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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/20406-8.txt b/20406-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e0ff58 --- /dev/null +++ b/20406-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13848 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Epic and Romance, by W. P. Ker + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Epic and Romance + Essays on Medieval Literature + + +Author: W. P. Ker + + + +Release Date: January 20, 2007 [eBook #20406] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EPIC AND ROMANCE*** + + +E-text prepared by Ted Garvin, Linda Cantoni, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net/c/) + + + +Transcriber's note: + + This text employs some Anglo-Saxon characters, such as the + eth (Đ or đ, equivalent of "th") and the thorn (Ţ or ţ, also + equivalent of "th"). These characters should display properly + in most text viewers. The Anglo-Saxon yogh (equivalent of + "y," "g," or "gh") will display properly only if the user has + the proper font. To maximize accessibility, the character "3" + is used in this e-text to represent the yogh, e.g., "3ong" + (yong). + + + + + +EPIC AND ROMANCE + +Essays on Medieval Literature + +by + +W. P. KER + +Fellow of All Souls College, Oxford +Professor of English Literature in University College +London + + + + + + + +MacMillan and Co., Limited +St. Martin's Street, London +1931 +Copyright +First Edition (8vo) 1896 +Second Edition (Eversley Series) 1908 +Reprinted (Crown 8vo) 1922, 1926, 1931 + +Printed in Great Britain +By R. & R. Clark, Limited, Edinburgh + + + + +PREFACE + + +These essays are intended as a general description of some of the +principal forms of narrative literature in the Middle Ages, and as a +review of some of the more interesting works in each period. It is +hardly necessary to say that the conclusion is one "in which nothing +is concluded," and that whole tracts of literature have been barely +touched on--the English metrical romances, the Middle High German +poems, the ballads, Northern and Southern--which would require to be +considered in any systematic treatment of this part of history. + +Many serious difficulties have been evaded (in _Finnesburh_, more +particularly), and many things have been taken for granted, too +easily. My apology must be that there seemed to be certain results +available for criticism, apart from the more strict and scientific +procedure which is required to solve the more difficult problems of +_Beowulf_, or of the old Northern or the old French poetry. It is +hoped that something may be gained by a less minute and exacting +consideration of the whole field, and by an attempt to bring the more +distant and dissociated parts of the subject into relation with one +another, in one view. + +Some of these notes have been already used, in a course of three +lectures at the Royal Institution, in March 1892, on "the Progress of +Romance in the Middle Ages," and in lectures given at University +College and elsewhere. The plot of the Dutch romance of _Walewein_ was +discussed in a paper submitted to the Folk-Lore Society two years ago, +and published in the journal of the Society (_Folk-Lore_, vol. v. p. +121). + +I am greatly indebted to my friend Mr. Paget Toynbee for his help in +reading the proofs. + +I cannot put out on this venture without acknowledgment of my +obligation to two scholars, who have had nothing to do with my +employment of all that I have borrowed from them, the Oxford editors +of the Old Northern Poetry, Dr. Gudbrand Vigfusson and Mr. York +Powell. I have still to learn what Mr. York Powell thinks of these +discourses. What Gudbrand Vigfusson would have thought I cannot guess, +but I am glad to remember the wise goodwill which he was always ready +to give, with so much else from the resources of his learning and his +judgment, to those who applied to him for advice. + +W. P. KER. + +LONDON, _4th November 1896_. + + + + +POSTSCRIPT + + +This book is now reprinted without addition or change, except in a few +small details. If it had to be written over again, many things, no +doubt, would be expressed in a different way. For example, after some +time happily spent in reading the Danish and other ballads, I am +inclined to make rather less of the interval between the ballads and +the earlier heroic poems, and I have learned (especially from Dr. Axel +Olrik) that the Danish ballads do not belong originally to simple +rustic people, but to the Danish gentry in the Middle Ages. Also the +comparison of Sturla's Icelandic and Norwegian histories, though it +still seems to me right in the main, is driven a little too far; it +hardly does enough justice to the beauty of the _Life of Hacon_ +(_Hákonar Saga_), especially in the part dealing with the rivalry of +the King and his father-in-law Duke Skule. The critical problems with +regard to the writings of Sturla are more difficult than I imagined, +and I am glad to have this opportunity of referring, with admiration, +to the work of my friend Dr. Björn Magnússon Olsen on the _Sturlunga +Saga_ (in _Safn til Sögu Islands_, iii. pp. 193-510, Copenhagen, +1897). Though I am unable to go further into that debatable ground, I +must not pass over Dr. Olsen's argument showing that the life of the +original Sturla of Hvamm (_v. inf._ pp. 253-256) was written by Snorri +himself; the story of the alarm and pursuit (p. 255) came from the +recollections of Gudny, Snorri's mother. + +In the _Chansons de Geste_ a great discovery has been made since my +essay was written; the _Chançun de Willame_, an earlier and ruder +version of the epic of _Aliscans_, has been printed by the unknown +possessor of the manuscript, and generously given to a number of +students who have good reason to be grateful to him for his +liberality. There are some notes on the poem in _Romania_ (vols. +xxxii. and xxxiv.) by M. Paul Meyer and Mr. Raymond Weeks, and it has +been used by Mr. Andrew Lang in illustration of Homer and his age. It +is the sort of thing that the Greeks willingly let die; a rough +draught of an epic poem, in many ways more barbarous than the other +extant _chansons de geste_, but full of vigour, and notable (like _le +Roi Gormond_, another of the older epics) for its refrain and other +lyrical passages, very like the manner of the ballads. The _Chançun de +Willame_, it may be observed, is not very different from _Aliscans_ +with regard to Rainouart, the humorous gigantic helper of William of +Orange. One would not have been surprised if it had been otherwise, if +Rainouart had been first introduced by the later composer, with a view +to "comic relief" or some such additional variety for his tale. But it +is not so; Rainouart, it appears, has a good right to his place by +the side of William. The grotesque element in French epic is found +very early, _e.g._ in the _Pilgrimage of Charlemagne_, and is not to +be reckoned among the signs of decadence. + +There ought to be a reference, on p. 298 below, to M. Joseph Bédier's +papers in the _Revue Historique_ (xcv. and xcvii.) on _Raoul de +Cambrai_. M. Bédier's _Légendes épiques_, not yet published at this +time of writing, will soon be in the hands of his expectant readers. + +I am deeply indebted to many friends--first of all to York Powell--for +innumerable good things spoken and written about these studies. My +reviewers, in spite of all differences of opinion, have put me under +strong obligations to them for their fairness and consideration. +Particularly, I have to offer my most sincere acknowledgments to Dr. +Andreas Heusler of Berlin for the honour he has done my book in his +_Lied und Epos_ (1905), and not less for the help that he has given, +in this and other of his writings, towards the better understanding of +the old poems and their history. + +W. P. K. + +OXFORD, _25th Jan. 1908_. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER I + +INTRODUCTION + +I + +THE HEROIC AGE + PAGE + +Epic and Romance: the two great orders of medieval narrative 3 + +_Epic_, of the "heroic age," preceding _Romance_ of the "age +of chivalry" 4 + +The heroic age represented in three kinds of literature--Teutonic +Epic, French Epic, and the Icelandic Sagas 6 + +Conditions of Life in an "heroic age" 7 + +Homer and the Northern poets 9 + +Homeric passages in _Beowulf_ 10 + and in the _Song of Maldon_ 11 + +Progress of poetry in the heroic age 13 + +Growth of Epic, distinct in character, but generally incomplete, +among the Teutonic nations 14 + +II + +EPIC AND ROMANCE + +The complex nature of Epic 16 + +No kind or aspect of life that may not be included 16 + +This freedom due to the dramatic quality of true (_e.g._ +Homeric) Epic 17 + as explained by Aristotle 17 + +Epic does not require a magnificent ideal subject 18 + such as those of the artificial epic (_Aeneid_, _Gerusalemme + Liberata_, _Paradise Lost_) 18 + +The _Iliad_ unlike these poems in its treatment of "ideal" +motives (patriotism, etc.) 19 + +True Epic begins with a dramatic plot and characters 20 + +The Epic of the Northern heroic age is sound in its dramatic +conception 20 + and does not depend on impersonal ideals (with exceptions, + in the _Chansons de geste_) 21 + +The German heroes in history and epic (Ermanaric, Attila, +Theodoric) 21 + +Relations of Epic to historical fact 22 + +The epic poet is free in the conduct of his story 23 + but his story and personages must belong to his own + people 26 + +Nature of Epic brought out by contrast with secondary narrative +poems, where the subject is not national 27 + +This secondary kind of poem may be excellent, but is always +different in character from native Epic 28 + +Disputes of academic critics about the "Epic Poem" 30 + +Tasso's defence of Romance. Pedantic attempts to restrict +the compass of Epic 30 + +Bossu on Phaeacia 31 + +Epic, as the most comprehensive kind of poetry, includes +Romance as one of its elements 32 + but needs a strong dramatic imagination to keep Romance + under control 33 + +III + +ROMANTIC MYTHOLOGY + +Mythology not required in the greatest scenes in Homer 35 + +Myths and popular fancies may be a hindrance to the epic +poet, but he is compelled to make some use of them 36 + +He criticises and selects, and allows the characters of the gods +to be modified in relation to the human characters 37 + +Early humanism and reflexion on myth--two processes: (1) +rejection of the grosser myths; (2) refinement of myth +through poetry 40 + +Two ways of refining myth in poetry--(1) by turning it into +mere fancy, and the more ludicrous things into comedy; +(2) by finding an imaginative or an ethical meaning in it 40 + +Instances in Icelandic literature--_Lokasenna_ 41 + +Snorri Sturluson, his ironical method in the _Edda_ 42 + +The old gods rescued from clerical persecution 43 + +Imaginative treatment of the graver myths--the death of +Balder; the Doom of the Gods 43 + +Difficulties in the attainment of poetical self-command 44 + +Medieval confusion and distraction 45 + +Premature "culture" 46 + +Depreciation of native work in comparison with ancient +literature and with theology 47 + +An Icelandic gentleman's library 47 + +The whalebone casket 48 + +Epic not wholly stifled by "useful knowledge" 49 + +IV + +THE THREE SCHOOLS--TEUTONIC EPIC--FRENCH EPIC--THE +ICELANDIC HISTORIES + +Early failure of Epic among the Continental Germans 50 + +Old English Epic invaded by Romance (Lives of Saints, etc.) 50 + +Old Northern (Icelandic) poetry full of romantic mythology 51 + +French Epic and Romance contrasted 51 + +Feudalism in the old French Epic (_Chansons de Geste_) not +unlike the prefeudal "heroic age" 52 + +But the _Chansons de Geste_ are in many ways "romantic" 53 + +Comparison of the English _Song of Byrhtnoth_ (_Maldon_, A.D. +991) with the _Chanson de Roland_ 54 + +Severity and restraint of _Byrhtnoth_ 55 + +Mystery and pathos of _Roland_ 56 + +Iceland and the German heroic age 57 + +The Icelandic paradox--old-fashioned politics together with +clear understanding 58 + +Icelandic prose literature--its subject, the anarchy of the +heroic age; its methods, clear and positive 59 + +The Icelandic histories, in prose, complete the development +of the early Teutonic Epic poetry 60 + + +CHAPTER II + +THE TEUTONIC EPIC + +I + +THE TRAGIC CONCEPTION + +Early German poetry 65 + +One of the first things certain about it is that it knew the +meaning of tragic situations 66 + +The _Death of Ermanaric_ in Jordanes 66 + +The story of _Alboin_ in Paulus Diaconus 66 + +Tragic plots in the extant poems 69 + +The _Death of Ermanaric_ in the "Poetic Edda" (_Hamđismál_) 70 + +Some of the Northern poems show the tragic conception +modified by romantic motives, yet without loss of the +tragic purport--_Helgi and Sigrun_ 72 + +Similar harmony of motives in the _Waking of Angantyr_ 73 + +Whatever may be wanting, the heroic poetry had no want of +tragic plots--the "fables" are sound 74 + +Value of the abstract plot (Aristotle) 74 + +II + +SCALE OF THE POEMS + +List of extant poems and fragments in one or other of +the older Teutonic languages (German, English, and +Northern) in unrhymed alliterative verse 76 + +Small amount of the extant poetry 78 + +Supplemented in various ways 79 + +1. THE WESTERN GROUP (German and English) 79 + +Amount of story contained in the several poems, and scale +of treatment 79 + +_Hildebrand_, a short story 80 + +_Finnesburh_, (1) the Lambeth fragment (Hickes); and (2) +the abstract of the story in _Beowulf_ 81 + +_Finnesburh_, a story of (1) wrong and (2) vengeance, like the +story of the death of Attila, or of the betrayal of Roland 82 + +Uncertainty as to the compass of the _Finnesburh_ poem +(Lambeth) in its original complete form 84 + +_Waldere_, two fragments: the story of Walter of Aquitaine +preserved in the Latin _Waltharius_ 84 + +Plot of _Waltharius_ 84 + +Place of the _Waldere_ fragments in the story, and probable +compass of the whole poem 86 + +Scale of _Maldon_ 88 + and of _Beowulf_ 89 + +General resemblance in the themes of these poems--unity of +action 89 + +Development of style, and not neglect of unity nor multiplication +of contents, accounts for the difference of length +between earlier and later poems 91 + +Progress of Epic in England--unlike the history of Icelandic +poetry 92 + +2. THE NORTHERN GROUP 93 + +The contents of the so-called "Elder Edda" (_i.e._ _Codex +Regius_ 2365, 4to _Havn_.) 93 + to what extent _Epic_ 93 + +Notes on the contents of the poems, to show their scale; the +_Lay of Weland_ 94 + +Different plan in the _Lays of Thor_, _Ţrymskviđa_ and _Hymiskviđa_ 95 + +The _Helgi_ Poems--complications of the text 95 + +Three separate stories--_Helgi Hundingsbane and Sigrun_ 95 + +_Helgi Hiorvardsson and Swava_ 98 + +_Helgi and Kara_ (lost) 99 + +The story of the Volsungs--the long _Lay of Brynhild_ 100 + contains the whole story in abstract 100 + giving the chief place to the character of _Brynhild_ 101 + +The _Hell-ride of Brynhild_ 102 + +The fragmentary _Lay of Brynhild_ (_Brot af Sigurđarkviđu_) 103 + +Poems on the death of Attila--the _Lay of Attila_ (_Atlakviđa_), +and the Greenland _Poem of Attila_ (_Atlamál_) 105 + +Proportions of the story 105 + +A third version of the story in the _Lament of Oddrun_ +(_Oddrúnargrátr_) 107 + +The _Death of Ermanaric_ (_Hamđismál_) 109 + +The Northern idylls of the heroines (Oddrun, Gudrun)--the +_Old Lay of Gudrun_, or Gudrun's story to Theodoric 109 + +The _Lay of Gudrun_ (_Guđrúnarkviđa_)--Gudrun's sorrow for +Sigurd 111 + +The refrain 111 + +Gudrun's _Chain of Woe_ (_Tregrof Guđrúnar_) 111 + +The _Ordeal of Gudrun_, an episodic lay 111 + +Poems in dialogue, without narrative-- + (1) Dialogues in the common epic measure--_Balder's + Doom_, Dialogues of _Sigurd_, _Angantyr_--explanations in + prose, between the dialogues 112 + (2) Dialogues in the gnomic or elegiac measure: + (_a_) vituperative debates--_Lokasenna_, + _Harbarzlióđ_ (in irregular verse), _Atli and Rimgerd_ 112 + (_b_) Dialogues implying action--_The Wooing of Frey_ + (_Skírnismál_) 114 + +_Svipdag and Menglad_ (_Grógaldr_, _Fiölsvinnsmál_) 114 + +The _Volsung_ dialogues 115 + +The Western and Northern poems compared, with respect +to their scale 116 + +The old English poems (_Beowulf_, _Waldere_), in scale, midway +between the Northern poems and Homer 117 + +Many of the Teutonic epic remains may look like the "short +lays" of the agglutinative epic theory; but this is illusion 117 + +Two kinds of story in Teutonic Epic--(1) episodic, _i.e._ +representing a single action (_Hildebrand_, etc.); (2) summary, +_i.e._ giving the whole of a long story in abstract, +with details of one part of it (_Weland_, etc.) 118 + +The second class is unfit for agglutination 119 + +Also the first, when it is looked into 121 + +The Teutonic Lays are too individual to be conveniently +fused into larger masses of narrative 122 + +III + +EPIC AND BALLAD POETRY + +Many of the old epic lays are on the scale of popular ballads 123 + +Their style is different 124 + +As may be proved where later ballads have taken up the epic +subjects 125 + +The Danish ballads of _Ungen Sveidal_ (_Svipdag and Menglad_) 126 + and of _Sivard_ (_Sigurd and Brynhild_) 127 + +The early epic poetry, unlike the ballads, was ambitious and +capable of progress 129 + +IV + +THE STYLE OF THE POEMS + +Rhetorical art of the alliterative verse 133 + +English and Norse 134 + +Different besetting temptations in England and the North 136 + +English tameness; Norse emphasis and false wit (the Scaldic +poetry) 137 + +Narrative poetry undeveloped in the North; unable to compete +with the lyrical forms 137 + +Lyrical element in Norse narrative 138 + +_Volospá_, the greatest of all the Northern poems 139 + +False heroics; _Krákumál_ (_Death-Song of Ragnar Lodbrok_) 140 + +A fresh start, in prose, with no rhetorical encumbrances 141 + +V + +THE PROGRESS OF EPIC + +Various renderings of the same story due (1) to accidents of +tradition and impersonal causes; (2) to calculation and +selection of motives by poets, and intentional modification +of traditional matter 144 + +The three versions of the death of Gunnar and Hogni +compared--_Atlakviđa_, _Atlamál_, _Oddrúnargrátr_ 147 + +Agreement of the three poems in ignoring the German theory +of Kriemhild's revenge 149 + +The incidents of the death of Hogni clear in _Atlakviđa_, +apparently confused and ill recollected in the other two +poems 150 + +But it turns out that these two poems had each a view of its +own which made it impossible to use the original story 152 + +_Atlamál_, the work of a critical author, making his selection +of incidents from heroic tradition 153 + the largest epic work in Northern poetry, and the last of + its school 155 + +The "Poetic Edda," a collection of deliberate experiments +in poetry and not of casual popular variants 156 + +VI + +_BEOWULF_ + +_Beowulf_ claims to be a single complete work 158 + +Want of unity: a story and a sequel 159 + +More unity in _Beowulf_ than in some Greek epics. The first +2200 lines form a complete story, not ill composed 160 + +Homeric method of episodes and allusions in _Beowulf_ 162 + and _Waldere_ 163 + +Triviality of the main plot in both parts of _Beowulf_--tragic +significance in some of the allusions 165 + +The characters in _Beowulf_ abstract types 165 + +The adventures and sentiments commonplace, especially in +the fight with the dragon 168 + +Adventure of Grendel not pure fantasy 169 + +Grendel's mother more romantic 172 + +_Beowulf_ is able to give epic dignity to a commonplace set of +romantic adventures 173 + + +CHAPTER III + +THE ICELANDIC SAGAS + +I + +ICELAND AND THE HEROIC AGE + +The close of Teutonic Epic--in Germany the old forms were +lost, but not the old stories, in the later Middle Ages 179 + +England kept the alliterative verse through the Middle +Ages 180 + +Heroic themes in Danish ballads, and elsewhere 181 + +Place of Iceland in the heroic tradition--a new heroic literature +in prose 182 + +II + +MATTER AND FORM + +The Sagas are not pure fiction 184 + +Difficulty of giving form to genealogical details 185 + +Miscellaneous incidents 186 + +Literary value of the historical basis--the characters well +known and recognisable 187 + +The coherent Sagas--the tragic motive 189 + +Plan of _Njála_ 190 + of _Laxdćla_ 191 + of _Egils Saga_ 192 + +_Vápnfirđinga Saga_, a story of two generations 193 + +_Víga-Glúms Saga_, a biography without tragedy 193 + +_Reykdćla Saga_ 194 + +_Grettis Saga_ and _Gísla Saga_ clearly worked out 195 + +Passages of romance in these histories 196 + +_Hrafnkels Saga Freysgođa_, a tragic idyll, well proportioned 198 + +Great differences of scale among the Sagas--analogies with +the heroic poems 198 + +III + +THE HEROIC IDEAL + +Unheroic matters of fact in the Sagas 200 + +Heroic characters 201 + +Heroic rhetoric 203 + +Danger of exaggeration--Kjartan in _Laxdćla_ 204 + +The heroic ideal not made too explicit or formal 206 + +IV + +TRAGIC IMAGINATION + +Tragic contradictions in the Sagas--_Gisli_, _Njal_ 207 + +Fantasy 208 + +_Laxdćla_, a reduction of the story of Sigurd and Brynhild to +the terms of common life 209 + +Compare Ibsen's _Warriors in Helgeland_ 209 + +The Sagas are a late stage in the progress of heroic literature 210 + +The Northern rationalism 212 + +Self-restraint and irony 213 + +The elegiac mood infrequent 215 + +The story of Howard of Icefirth--ironical pathos 216 + +The conventional Viking 218 + +The harmonies of _Njála_ 219 + and of _Laxdćla_ 222 + +The two speeches of Gudrun 223 + +V + +COMEDY + +The Sagas not bound by solemn conventions 225 + +Comic humours 226 + +Bjorn and his wife in _Njála_ 228 + +_Bandamanna Saga_: "The Confederates," a comedy 229 + +Satirical criticism of the "heroic age" 231 + +Tragic incidents in _Bandamanna Saga_ 233 + +Neither the comedy nor tragedy of the Sagas is monotonous +or abstract 234 + +VI + +THE ART OF NARRATIVE + +Organic unity of the best Sagas 235 + +Method of representing occurrences as they appear at the +time 236 + +Instance from _Ţorgils Saga_ 238 + +Another method--the death of Kjartan as it appeared to a +churl 240 + +Psychology (not analytical) 244 + +Impartiality--justice to the hero's adversaries (_Fćreyinga +Saga_) 245 + +VII + +EPIC AND HISTORY + +Form of Saga used for contemporary history in the thirteenth +century 246 + +The historians, Ari (1067-1148) and Snorri (1178-1241) 248 + +The _Life of King Sverre_, by Abbot Karl Jónsson 249 + +Sturla (_c._ 1214-1284), his history of Iceland in his own time +(_Islendinga_ or _Sturlunga Saga_) 249 + +The matter ready to his hand 250 + +Biographies incorporated in _Sturlunga_: Thorgils and Haflidi 252 + +_Sturlu Saga_ 253 + +The midnight raid (A.D. 1171) 254 + +Lives of Bishop Gudmund, Hrafn, and Aron 256 + +Sturla's own work (_Islendinga Saga_) 257 + +The burning of Flugumyri 259 + +Traces of the heroic manner 264 + +The character of this history brought out by contrast with +Sturla's other work, the _Life of King Hacon of Norway_ 267 + +Norwegian and Icelandic politics in the thirteenth century 267 + +Norway more fortunate than Iceland--the history less +interesting 267 + +Sturla and Joinville contemporaries 269 + +Their methods of narrative compared 270 + +VIII + +THE NORTHERN PROSE ROMANCES + +Romantic interpolations in the Sagas--the ornamental +version of _Fóstbrćđra Saga_ 275 + +The secondary romantic Sagas--_Frithiof_ 277 + +French romance imported (_Strengleikar_, _Tristram's Saga_, +etc.) 278 + +Romantic Sagas made out of heroic poems (_Volsunga Saga_, +etc.) 279 + and out of authentic Sagas by repetition of common forms + and motives 280 + +Romantic conventions in the original Sagas 280 + +_Laxdćla_ and _Gunnlaug's Saga_--_Thorstein the White_ 281 + +_Thorstein Staffsmitten_ 282 + +Sagas turned into rhyming romances (_Rímur_) 283 + and into ballads in the Faroes 284 + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE OLD FRENCH EPIC + +(_CHANSONS DE GESTE_) + +Lateness of the extant versions 287 + +Competition of Epic and Romance in the twelfth century 288 + +Widespread influence of the _Chansons de geste_--a contrast to +the Sagas 289 + +Narrative style 290 + +No obscurities of diction 291 + +The "heroic age" imperfectly represented 292 + but not ignored 293 + +_Roland_--heroic idealism--France and Christendom 293 + +William of Orange--_Aliscans_ 296 + +Rainouart--exaggeration of heroism 296 + +Another class of stories in the _Chansons de geste_, more like +the Sagas 297 + +_Raoul de Cambrai_ 298 + +Barbarism of style 299 + +_Garin le Loherain_--style clarified 300 + +Problems of character--Fromont 301 + +The story of the death of Begon 302 + unlike contemporary work of the Romantic School 304 + +The lament for Begon 307 + +_Raoul_ and _Garin_ contrasted with _Roland_ 308 + +Comedy in French Epic--"humours" in _Garin_ 310 + in the _Coronemenz Looďs_, etc. 311 + +Romantic additions to heroic cycles--_la Prise d'Orange_ 313 + +_Huon de Bordeaux_--the original story grave and tragic 314 + converted to Romance 314 + + +CHAPTER V + +ROMANCE AND THE OLD FRENCH ROMANTIC +SCHOOLS + +Romance an element in Epic and Tragedy apart from all +"romantic schools" 321 + +The literary movements of the twelfth century 322 + +A new beginning 323 + +The Romantic School unromantic in its methods 324 + +Professional Romance 325 + +Characteristics of the school--courteous sentiment 328 + +Decorative passages--descriptions--pedantry 329 + +Instances from _Roman de Troie_ 330 + and from _Ider_, etc. 331 + +Romantic adventures--the "matter of Rome" and the +"matter of Britain" 334 + +Blending of classical and Celtic influences--_e.g._ in Benoit's +_Medea_ 334 + +Methods of narrative--simple, as in the _Lay of Guingamor_; +overloaded, as in _Walewein_ 337 + +_Guingamor_ 338 + +_Walewein_, a popular tale disguised as a chivalrous romance 340 + +The different versions of _Libeaux Desconus_--one of them is +sophisticated 343 + +_Tristram_--the Anglo-Norman poems comparatively simple +and ingenuous 344 + +French Romance and Provençal Lyric 345 + +Ovid in the Middle Ages--the _Art of Love_ 346 + +The Heroines 347 + +Benoit's _Medea_ again 348 + +Chrestien of Troyes, his place at the beginning of modern +literature 349 + +'Enlightenment' in the Romantic School 350 + +The sophists of Romance--the rhetoric of sentiment and +passion 351 + +The progress of Romance from medieval to modern literature 352 + +Chrestien of Troyes, his inconsistencies--nature and convention 352 + +Departure from conventional romance; Chrestien's _Enid_ 355 + +Chrestien's _Cliges_--"sensibility" 357 + +_Flamenca_, a Provençal story of the thirteenth century--the +author a follower of Chrestien 359 + +His acquaintance with romantic literature 360 + and rejection of the "machinery" of adventures 360 + +_Flamenca_, an appropriation of Ovid--disappearance of +romantic mythology 361 + +The _Lady of Vergi_, a short tragic story without false rhetoric 362 + +Use of medieval themes by the great poets of the fourteenth +century 363 + +Boccaccio and Chaucer--the _Teseide_ and the _Knight's Tale_ 364 + +Variety of Chaucer's methods 364 + +Want of art in the _Man of Law's Tale_ 365 + +The abstract point of honour (_Clerk's Tale_, _Franklin's Tale_) 366 + +Pathos in the _Legend of Good Women_ 366 + +Romantic method perfect in the _Knight's Tale_ 366 + +_Anelida_, the abstract form of romance 367 + +In _Troilus and Criseyde_ the form of medieval romance is +filled out with strong dramatic imagination 367 + +Romance obtains the freedom of Epic, without the old local +and national limitations of Epic 368 + +Conclusion 370 + + +APPENDIX + +Note A--Rhetoric of the Alliterative Poetry 373 + +Note B--Kjartan and Olaf Tryggvason 375 + +Note C--Eyjolf Karsson 381 + +Note D--Two Catalogues of Romances 384 + + +INDEX 391 + + + + +CHAPTER I + +INTRODUCTION + + +I + +THE HEROIC AGE + +The title of Epic, or of "heroic poem," is claimed by historians for a +number of works belonging to the earlier Middle Ages, and to the +medieval origins of modern literature. "Epic" is a term freely applied +to the old school of Germanic narrative poetry, which in different +dialects is represented by the poems of Hildebrand, of Beowulf, of +Sigurd and Brynhild. "Epic" is the name for the body of old French +poems which is headed by the _Chanson de Roland_. The rank of Epic is +assigned by many to the _Nibelungenlied_, not to speak of other Middle +High German poems on themes of German tradition. The title of prose +Epic has been claimed for the Sagas of Iceland. + +By an equally common consent the name Romance is given to a number of +kinds of medieval narrative by which the Epic is succeeded and +displaced; most notably in France, but also in other countries which +were led, mainly by the example and influence of France, to give up +their own "epic" forms and subjects in favour of new manners. + +This literary classification corresponds in general history to the +difference between the earlier "heroic" age and the age of chivalry. +The "epics" of Hildebrand and Beowulf belong, if not wholly to German +heathendom, at any rate to the earlier and prefeudal stage of German +civilisation. The French epics, in their extant form, belong for the +most part in spirit, if not always in date, to an order of things +unmodified by the great changes of the twelfth century. While among +the products of the twelfth century one of the most remarkable is the +new school of French romance, the brilliant and frequently +vainglorious exponent of the modern ideas of that age, and of all its +chivalrous and courtly fashions of thought and sentiment. The +difference of the two orders of literature is as plain as the +difference in the art of war between the two sides of the battle of +Hastings, which indeed is another form of the same thing; for the +victory of the Norman knights over the English axemen has more than a +fanciful or superficial analogy to the victory of the new literature +of chivalry over the older forms of heroic narrative. The history of +those two orders of literature, of the earlier Epic kinds, followed by +the various types of medieval Romance, is parallel to the general +political history of the earlier and the later Middle Ages, and may do +something to illustrate the general progress of the nations. The +passage from the earlier "heroic" civilisation to the age of chivalry +was not made without some contemporary record of the "form and +pressure" of the times in the changing fashions of literature, and in +successive experiments of the imagination. + +Whatever Epic may mean, it implies some weight and solidity; Romance +means nothing, if it does not convey some notion of mystery and +fantasy. A general distinction of this kind, whatever names may be +used to render it, can be shown, in medieval literature, to hold good +of the two large groups of narrative belonging to the earlier and the +later Middle Ages respectively. Beowulf might stand for the one side, +Lancelot or Gawain for the other. It is a difference not confined to +literature. The two groups are distinguished from one another, as the +respectable piratical gentleman of the North Sea coast in the ninth or +tenth century differs from one of the companions of St. Louis. The +latter has something fantastic in his ideas which the other has not. +The Crusader may indeed be natural and brutal enough in most of his +ways, but he has lost the sobriety and simplicity of the earlier type +of rover. If nothing else, his way of fighting--the undisciplined +cavalry charge--would convict him of extravagance as compared with men +of business, like the settlers of Iceland for example. + +The two great kinds of narrative literature in the Middle Ages might +be distinguished by their favourite incidents and commonplaces of +adventure. No kind of adventure is so common or better told in the +earlier heroic manner than the defence of a narrow place against odds. +Such are the stories of Hamther and Sorli in the hall of Ermanaric, of +the Niblung kings in the hall of Attila, of the Fight of Finnesburh, +of Walter at the Wasgenstein, of Byrhtnoth at Maldon, of Roland in the +Pyrenees. Such are some of the finest passages in the Icelandic Sagas: +the death of Gunnar, the burning of Njal's house, the burning of +Flugumyri (an authentic record), the last fight of Kjartan in +Svinadal, and of Grettir at Drangey. The story of Cynewulf and +Cyneheard in the English Chronicle may well have come from a poem in +which an attack and defence of this sort were narrated. + +The favourite adventure of medieval romance is something different,--a +knight riding alone through a forest; another knight; a shock of +lances; a fight on foot with swords, "racing, tracing, and foining +like two wild boars"; then, perhaps, recognition--the two knights +belong to the same household and are engaged in the same quest. + + Et Guivrez vers lui esperone, + De rien nule ne l'areisone, + Ne Erec ne li sona mot. + + _Erec_, l. 5007. + +This collision of blind forces, this tournament at random, takes the +place, in the French romances, of the older kind of combat. In the +older kind the parties have always good reasons of their own for +fighting; they do not go into it with the same sort of readiness as +the wandering champions of romance. + +The change of temper and fashion represented by the appearance and the +vogue of the medieval French romances is a change involving the whole +world, and going far beyond the compass of literature and literary +history. It meant the final surrender of the old ideas, independent of +Christendom, which had been enough for the Germanic nations in their +earlier days; it was the close of their heroic age. What the "heroic +age" of the modern nations really was, may be learned from what is +left of their heroic literature, especially from three groups or +classes,--the old Teutonic alliterative poems on native subjects; the +French _Chansons de Geste_; and the Icelandic Sagas. + +All these three orders, whatever their faults may be, do something to +represent a society which is "heroic" as the Greeks in Homer are +heroic. There can be no mistake about the likeness. To compare the +imaginations and the phrases of any of these barbarous works with the +poetry of Homer may be futile, but their contents may be compared +without reference to their poetical qualities; and there is no +question that the life depicted has many things in common with Homeric +life, and agrees with Homer in ignorance of the peculiar ideas of +medieval chivalry. + +The form of society in an heroic age is aristocratic and magnificent. +At the same time, this aristocracy differs from that of later and more +specialised forms of civilisation. It does not make an insuperable +difference between gentle and simple. There is not the extreme +division of labour that produces the contempt of the lord for the +villain. The nobles have not yet discovered for themselves any form of +occupation or mode of thought in virtue of which they are widely +severed from the commons, nor have they invented any such ideal of +life or conventional system of conduct as involves an ignorance or +depreciation of the common pursuits of those below them. They have no +such elaborate theory of conduct as is found in the chivalrous society +of the Middle Ages. The great man is the man who is best at the things +with which every one is familiar. The epic hero may despise the +churlish man, may, like Odysseus in the _Iliad_ (ii. 198), show little +sympathy or patience with the bellowings of the multitude, but he may +not ostentatiously refuse all community of ideas with simple people. +His magnificence is not defended by scruples about everything low. It +would not have mattered to Odysseus if he had been seen travelling in +a cart, like Lancelot; though for Lancelot it was a great misfortune +and anxiety. The art and pursuits of a gentleman in the heroic age are +different from those of the churl, but not so far different as to keep +them in different spheres. There is a community of prosaic interests. +The great man is a good judge of cattle; he sails his own ship. + +A gentleman adventurer on board his own ship, following out his own +ideas, carrying his men with him by his own power of mind and temper, +and not by means of any system of naval discipline to which he as well +as they must be subordinate; surpassing his men in skill, knowledge, +and ambition, but taking part with them and allowing them to take part +in the enterprise, is a good representative of the heroic age. This +relation between captain and men may be found, accidentally and +exceptionally, in later and more sophisticated forms of society. In +the heroic age a relation between a great man and his followers +similar to that between an Elizabethan captain and his crew is found +to be the most important and fundamental relation in society. In later +times it is only by a special favour of circumstances, as for example +by the isolation of shipboard from all larger monarchies, that the +heroic relation between the leader and the followers can be repeated. +As society becomes more complex and conventional, this relation +ceases. The homeliness of conversation between Odysseus and his +vassals, or between Njal and Thord Freedman's son, is discouraged by +the rules of courtly behaviour as gentlefolk become more idle and +ostentatious, and their vassals more sordid and dependent. The secrets +also of political intrigue and dexterity made a difference between +noble and villain, in later and more complex medieval politics, such +as is unknown in the earlier days and the more homely forms of +Society. An heroic age may be full of all kinds of nonsense and +superstition, but its motives of action are mainly positive and +sensible,--cattle, sheep, piracy, abduction, merchandise, recovery of +stolen goods, revenge. The narrative poetry of an heroic age, whatever +dignity it may obtain either by its dramatic force of imagination, or +by the aid of its mythology, will keep its hold upon such common +matters, simply because it cannot do without the essential practical +interests, and has nothing to put in their place, if kings and chiefs +are to be represented at all. The heroic age cannot dress up ideas or +sentiments to play the part of characters. If its characters are not +men they are nothing, not even thoughts or allegories; they cannot go +on talking unless they have something to do; and so the whole business +of life comes bodily into the epic poem. + +How much the matter of the Northern heroic literature resembles the +Homeric, may be felt and recognised at every turn in a survey of the +ground. In both there are the _ashen spears_; there are the _shepherds +of the people_; the retainers bound by loyalty to the prince who gives +them meat and drink; the great hall with its minstrelsy, its boasting +and bickering; the battles which are a number of single combats, while +"physiology supplies the author with images"[1] for the same; the +heroic rule of conduct ([Greek: iomen])[2]; the eminence of the hero, +and at the same time his community of occupation and interest with +those who are less distinguished. + +[Footnote 1: Johnson on the Epic Poem (_Life of Milton_).] + +[Footnote 2: _Il._ xii. 328.] + +There are other resemblances also, but some of these are miraculous, +and perhaps irrelevant. By what magic is it that the cry of Odysseus, +wounded and hard bestead in his retreat before the Trojans, comes over +us like the three blasts of the horn of Roland? + + Thrice he shouted, as loud as the head of a man will bear; + and three times Menelaus heard the sound thereof, and + quickly he turned and spake to Ajax: "Ajax, there is come + about me the cry of Odysseus slow to yield; and it is like + as though the Trojans had come hard upon him by himself + alone, closing him round in the battle."[3] + +[Footnote 3: _Il._ xi. 462.] + +It is reported as a discovery made by Mephistopheles in Thessaly, in +the classical _Walpurgisnacht_, that the company there was very much +like his old acquaintances on the Brocken. A similar discovery, in +regard to more honourable personages and other scenes, may be made by +other Gothic travellers in a "south-eastward" journey to heroic +Greece. The classical reader of the Northern heroics may be frequently +disgusted by their failures; he may also be bribed, if not to applaud, +at least to continue his study, by the glimmerings and "shadowy +recollections," the affinities and correspondences between the Homeric +and the Northern heroic world. + +Beowulf and his companions sail across the sea to Denmark on an errand +of deliverance,--to cleanse the land of monsters. They are welcomed by +Hrothgar, king of the Danes, and by his gentle queen, in a house less +fortunate than the house of Alcinous, for it is exposed to the attacks +of the lumpish ogre that Beowulf has to kill, but recalling in its +splendour, in the manner of its entertainment, and the bearing of its +gracious lord and lady, the house where Odysseus told his story. +Beowulf, like Odysseus, is assailed by an envious person with +discourteous words. Hunferth, the Danish courtier, is irritated by +Beowulf's presence; "he could not endure that any one should be +counted worthier than himself"; he speaks enviously, a biting +speech--[Greek: thymodakęs gar mythos]--and is answered in the tone of +Odysseus to Euryalus.[4] Beowulf has a story to tell of his former +perils among the creatures of the sea. It is differently introduced +from that of Odysseus, and has not the same importance, but it +increases the likeness between the two adventurers. + +[Footnote 4: _Od._ viii. 165.] + +In the shadowy halls of the Danish king a minstrel sings of the +famous deeds of men, and his song is given as an interlude in the main +action. It is a poem on that same tragedy of Finnesburh, which is the +theme of a separate poem in the Old English heroic cycle; so Demodocus +took his subjects from the heroic cycle of Achaea. The leisure of the +Danish king's house is filled in the same manner as the leisure of +Phaeacia. In spite of the difference of the climate, it is impossible +to mistake the likeness between the Greek and the Northern conceptions +of a dignified and reasonable way of life. The magnificence of the +Homeric great man is like the magnificence of the Northern lord, in so +far as both are equally marked off from the pusillanimity and +cheapness of popular morality on the one hand, and from the +ostentation of Oriental or chivalrous society on the other. The +likeness here is not purely in the historical details, but much more +in the spirit that informs the poetry. + +If this part of _Beowulf_ is a Northern _Odyssey_, there is nothing in +the whole range of English literature so like a scene from the _Iliad_ +as the narrative of Maldon. It is a battle in which the separate deeds +of the fighters are described, with not quite so much anatomy as in +Homer. The fighting about the body of Byrhtnoth is described as +strongly, as "the Fighting at the Wall" in the twelfth book of the +_Iliad_, and essentially in the same way, with the interchange of +blows clearly noted, together with the speeches and thoughts of the +combatants. Even the most heroic speech in Homer, even the power of +Sarpedon's address to Glaucus in the twelfth book of the _Iliad_, +cannot discredit, by comparison, the heroism and the sublimity of the +speech of the "old companion" at the end of _Maldon_. The language is +simple, but it is not less adequate in its own way than the +simplicity of Sarpedon's argument. It states, perhaps more clearly and +absolutely than anything in Greek, the Northern principle of +resistance to all odds, and defiance of ruin. In the North the +individual spirit asserts itself more absolutely against the bodily +enemies than in Greece; the defiance is made wholly independent of any +vestige of prudent consideration; the contradiction, "Thought the +harder, Heart the keener, Mood the more, as our Might lessens," is +stated in the most extreme terms. This does not destroy the +resemblance between the Greek and the Northern ideal, or between the +respective forms of representation. + +The creed of Maldon is that of Achilles:[5] "Xanthus, what need is +there to prophesy of death? Well do I know that it is my doom to +perish here, far from my father and mother; but for all that I will +not turn back, until I give the Trojans their fill of war." The +difference is that in the English case the strain is greater, the +irony deeper, the antithesis between the spirit and the body more +paradoxical. + +[Footnote 5: _Il._ xix. 420.] + +Where the centre of life is a great man's house, and where the most +brilliant society is that which is gathered at his feast, where +competitive boasting, story-telling, and minstrelsy are the principal +intellectual amusements, it is inevitable that these should find their +way into a kind of literature which has no foundation except +experience and tradition. Where fighting is more important than +anything else in active life, and at the same time is carried on +without organisation or skilled combinations, it is inevitable that it +should be described as it is in the _Iliad_, the _Song of Maldon_ and +_Song of Roland_, and the Icelandic Sagas, as a series of personal +encounters, in which every stroke is remembered. From this early +aristocratic form of society, there is derived in one age the +narrative of life at Ithaca or of the navigation of Odysseus, in +another the representation of the household of Njal or of Olaf the +Peacock, and of the rovings of Olaf Tryggvason and other captains. +There is an affinity between these histories in virtue of something +over and above the likeness in the conditions of things they describe. +There is a community of literary sense as well as of historical +conditions, in the record of Achilles and Kjartan Olafsson, of +Odysseus and Njal. + +The circumstances of an heroic age may be found in numberless times +and places, in the history of the world. Among its accompaniments will +be generally found some sort of literary record of sentiments and +imaginations; but to find an heroic literature of the highest order is +not so easy. Many nations instead of an _Iliad_ or an _Odyssey_ have +had to make shift with conventional repetitions of the praise of +chieftains, without any story; many have had to accept from their +story-tellers all sorts of monstrous adventures in place of the +humanities of debate and argument. Epic literature is not common; it +is brought to perfection by a slow process through many generations. +The growth of Epic out of the older and commoner forms of poetry, +hymns, dirges, or panegyrics, is a progress towards intellectual and +imaginative freedom. Few nations have attained, at the close of their +heroic age, to a form of poetical art in which men are represented +freely in action and conversation. The labour and meditation of all +the world has not discovered, for the purposes of narrative, any +essential modification of the procedure of Homer. Those who are +considered reformers and discoverers in later times--Chaucer, +Cervantes, Fielding--are discoverers merely of the old devices of +dramatic narration which were understood by Homer and described after +him by Aristotle. + +The growth of Epic, in the beginning of the history of the modern +nations, has been generally thwarted and stunted. It cannot be said of +many of the languages of the North and West of Europe that in them the +epic form has come fully to its own, or has realised its proper +nature. Many of them, however, have at least made a beginning. The +history of the older German literature, and of old French, is the +history of a great number of experiments in Epic; of attempts, that +is, to represent great actions in narrative, with the personages well +defined. These experiments are begun in the right way. They are not +merely barbarous nor fantastic. They are different also from such +traditional legends and romances as may survive among simple people +long after the day of their old glories and their old kings. The poems +of _Beowulf_ and _Waldere_, of _Roland_ and _William of Orange_, are +intelligible and reasonable works, determined in the main by the same +essential principles of narrative art, and of dramatic conversation +within the narrative, as are observed in the practice of Homer. +Further, these are poems in which, as in the Homeric poems, the ideas +of their time are conveyed and expressed in a noble manner: they are +high-spirited poems. They have got themselves clear of the confusion +and extravagance of early civilisation, and have hit upon a way of +telling a story clearly and in proportion, and with dignity. They are +epic in virtue of their superiority to the more fantastic motives of +interest, and in virtue of their study of human character. They are +heroic in the nobility of their temper and their style. If at any time +they indulge in heroic commonplaces of sentiment, they do so without +insincerity or affectation, as the expression of the general temper or +opinion of their own time. They are not separated widely from the +matters of which they treat; they are not antiquarian revivals of past +forms, nor traditional vestiges of things utterly remote and separate +from the actual world. What art they may possess is different from the +"rude sweetness" of popular ballads, and from the unconscious grace of +popular tales. They have in different degrees and manners the form of +epic poetry, in their own right. There are recognisable qualities that +serve to distinguish even a fragment of heroic poetry from the ballads +and romances of a lower order, however near these latter forms may +approach at times to the epic dignity. + + +II + +EPIC AND ROMANCE + +It is the nature of epic poetry to be at ease in regard to its subject +matter, to be free from the strain and excitement of weaker and more +abstract forms of poetry in dealing with heroic subjects. The heroic +ideal of epic is not attained by a process of abstraction and +separation from the meannesses of familiar things. The magnificence +and aristocratic dignity of epic is conformable to the practical and +ethical standards of the heroic age; that is to say, it tolerates a +number of things that may be found mean and trivial by academicians. +Epic poetry is one of the complex and comprehensive kinds of +literature, in which most of the other kinds may be included--romance, +history, comedy; _tragical_, _comical_, _historical_, _pastoral_ are +terms not sufficiently various to denote the variety of the _Iliad_ +and the _Odyssey_. + +The "common life" of the Homeric poems may appeal to modern pedantic +theorists, and be used by them in support of Euripidean or +Wordsworthian receipts for literature. But the comprehensiveness of +the greater kinds of poetry, of Homer and Shakespeare, is a different +thing from the premeditated and self-assertive realism of the authors +who take viciously to common life by way of protest against the +romantic extreme. It has its origin, not in a critical theory about +the proper matter of literature, but in dramatic imagination. In an +epic poem where the characters are vividly imagined, it follows +naturally that their various moods and problems involve a variety of +scenery and properties, and so the whole business of life comes into +the story. + +The success of epic poetry depends on the author's power of imagining +and representing characters. A kind of success and a kind of +magnificence may be attained in stories, professing to be epic, in +which there is no dramatic virtue, in which every new scene and new +adventure merely goes to accumulate, in immortal verse, the proofs of +the hero's nullity and insignificance. This is not the epic poetry of +the heroic ages. + +Aristotle, in his discussion of tragedy, chose to lay stress upon the +plot, the story. On the other hand, to complete the paradox, in the +epic he makes the characters all-important, not the story. Without the +tragic plot or fable, the tragedy becomes a series of moral essays or +monologues; the life of the drama is derived from the original idea of +the fable which is its subject. Without dramatic representation of the +characters, epic is mere history or romance; the variety and life of +epic are to be found in the drama that springs up at every encounter +of the personages. + +"Homer is the only poet who knows the right proportions of epic +narrative; when to narrate, and when to let the characters speak for +themselves. Other poets for the most part tell their story straight +on, with scanty passages of drama and far between. Homer, with little +prelude, leaves the stage to his personages, men and women, all with +characters of their own."[6] + +[Footnote 6: [Greek: Homęros de alla te polla axios epaineisthai kai +dę kai hoti monos tôn poiętôn ouk agnoei ho dei poiein auton. auton +gar dei ton poiętęn elachista legein: ou gar esti kata tauta mimętęs. +hoi men oun alloi autoi men di' holou agônizontai, mimountai de oliga +kai oligakis: ho de oliga phroimiasamenos euthys eisagei andra ę +gynaika ę allo ti ęthos kai ouden' aęthę all' echonta ęthę.]--ARIST. +_Poet._ 1460 a 5.] + +Aristotle wrote with very little consideration for the people who were +to come after him, and gives little countenance to such theories of +epic as have at various times been prevalent among the critics, in +which the dignity of the subject is insisted on. He does not imagine +it the chief duty of an epic poet to choose a lofty argument for +historical rhetoric. He does not say a word about the national or the +ecumenical importance of the themes of the epic poet. His analysis of +the plot of the _Odyssey_, but for the reference to Poseidon, might +have been the description of a modern realistic story. + +"A man is abroad for many years, persecuted by Poseidon and alone; +meantime the suitors of his wife are wasting his estate and plotting +against his son; after many perils by sea he returns to his own +country and discovers himself to his friends. He falls on his enemies +and destroys them, and so comes to his own again." + +The _Iliad_ has more likeness than the _Odyssey_ to the common pattern +of later sophisticated epics. But the war of Troy is not the subject +of the _Iliad_ in the same way as the siege of Jerusalem is the +subject of Tasso's poem. The story of the _Aeneid_ can hardly be told +in the simplest form without some reference to the destiny of Rome, or +the story of _Paradise Lost_ without the feud of heaven and hell. But +in the _Iliad_, the assistance of the Olympians, or even the presence +of the whole of Greece, is not in the same degree essential to the +plot of the story of Achilles. In the form of Aristotle's summary of +the _Odyssey_, reduced to "the cool element of prose," the _Iliad_ +may be proved to be something quite different from the common fashion +of literary epics. It might go in something like this way:-- + +"A certain man taking part in a siege is slighted by the general, and +in his resentment withdraws from the war, though his own side is in +great need of his help. His dearest friend having been killed by the +enemy, he comes back into the action and takes vengeance for his +friend, and allows himself to be reconciled." + +It is the debate among the characters, and not the onset of Hera and +Athena in the chariot of Heaven, that gives its greatest power to the +_Iliad_. The _Iliad_, with its "machines," its catalogue of the +forces, its funeral games, has contributed more than the _Odyssey_ to +the common pattern of manufactured epics. But the essence of the poem +is not to be found among the Olympians. Achilles refusing the embassy +or yielding to Priam has no need of the Olympian background. The poem +is in a great degree independent of "machines"; its life is in the +drama of the characters. The source of all its variety is the +imagination by which the characters are distinguished; the liveliness +and variety of the characters bring with them all the other kinds of +variety. + +It is impossible for the author who knows his personages intimately to +keep to any one exclusive mode of sentiment or one kind of scene. He +cannot be merely tragical and heroic, or merely comical and pastoral; +these are points of view to which those authors are confined who are +possessed by one kind of sentiment or sensibility, and who wish to +find expression for their own prevailing mood. The author who is +interested primarily in his characters will not allow them to be +obliterated by the story or by its diffused impersonal sentiment. The +action of an heroic poem must be "of a certain magnitude," but the +accessories need not be all heroic and magnificent; the heroes do not +derive their magnificence from the scenery, the properties, and the +author's rhetoric, but contrariwise: the dramatic force and +self-consistency of the _dramatis personae_ give poetic value to any +accessories of scenery or sentiment which may be required by the +action. They are not figures "animating" a landscape; what the +landscape means for the poet's audience is determined by the character +of his personages. + +All the variety of epic is explained by Aristotle's remark on Homer. +Where the characters are true, and dramatically represented, there can +be no monotony. + +In the different kinds of Northern epic literature--German, English, +French, and Norse--belonging to the Northern heroic ages, there will +be found in different degrees this epic quality of drama. Whatever +magnificence they may possess comes mainly from the dramatic strength +of the heroes, and in a much less degree from the historic dignity or +importance of the issues of the story, or from its mythological +decorations. + +The place of history in the heroic poems belonging to an heroic age is +sometimes misconceived. Early epic poetry may be concerned with great +historic events. It does not necessarily emphasise--by preference it +does not emphasise--the historic importance or the historic results of +the events with which it deals. Heroic poetry implies an heroic age, +an age of pride and courage, in which there is not any extreme +organisation of politics to hinder the individual talent and its +achievements, nor on the other hand too much isolation of the hero +through the absence of any national or popular consciousness. There +must be some unity of sentiment, some common standard of appreciation, +among the people to whom the heroes belong, if they are to escape +oblivion. But this common sentiment must not be such as to make the +idea of the community and its life predominant over the individual +genius of its members. In such a case there may be a Roman history, +but not anything approaching the nature of the Homeric poems. + +In some epic poems belonging to an heroic age, and not to a time of +self-conscious and reflective literature, there may be found general +conceptions that seem to resemble those of the _Aeneid_ rather than +those of the _Iliad_. In many of the old French _Chansons de Geste_, +the war against the infidels is made the general subject of the story, +and the general idea of the Holy War is expressed as fully as by +Tasso. Here, however, the circumstances are exceptional. The French +epic with all its Homeric analogies is not as sincere as Homer. It is +exposed to the touch of influences from another world, and though many +of the French poems, or great part of many of them, may tell of heroes +who would be content with the simple and positive rules of the heroic +life, this is not allowed them. They are brought within the sphere of +other ideas, of another civilisation, and lose their independence. + +Most of the old German heroic poetry is clearly to be traced, as far +as its subjects are concerned, to the most exciting periods in early +German history, between the fourth and the sixth centuries. The names +that seem to have been most commonly known to the poets are the names +that are most important to the historian--Ermanaric, Attila, +Theodoric. In the wars of the great migration the spirit of each of +the German families was quickened, and at the same time the spirit of +the whole of Germany, so that each part sympathised with all the rest, +and the fame of the heroes went abroad beyond the limits of their own +kindred. Ermanaric, Attila, and Theodoric, Sigfred the Frank, and +Gundahari the Burgundian, are heroes over all the region occupied by +all forms of Teutonic language. But although the most important period +of early German history may be said to have produced the old German +heroic poetry, by giving a number of heroes to the poets, at the same +time that the imagination was stirred to appreciate great things and +make the most of them, still the result is nothing like the patriotic +epic in twelve books, the _Aeneid_ or the _Lusiad_, which chooses, of +set purpose, the theme of the national glory. Nor is it like those old +French epics in which there often appears a contradiction between the +story of individual heroes, pursuing their own fortunes, and the idea +of a common cause to which their own fortunes ought to be, but are not +always, subordinate. The great historical names which appear in the +old German heroic poetry are seldom found there in anything like their +historical character, and not once in their chief historical aspect as +adversaries of the Roman Empire. Ermanaric, Attila, and Theodoric are +all brought into the same Niblung story, a story widely known in +different forms, though it was never adequately written out. The true +history of the war between the Burgundians and the Huns in the fifth +century is forgotten. In place of it, there is associated with the +life and death of Gundahari the Burgundian king a story which may have +been vastly older, and may have passed through many different forms +before it became the story of the Niblung treasure, of Sigfred and +Brynhild. This, which has made free with so many great historical +names, the name of Attila, the name of Theodoric, has little to do +with history. In this heroic story coming out of the heroic age, there +is not much that can be traced to historical as distinct from mythical +tradition. The tragedy of the death of Attila, as told in the +_Atlakviđa_ and the _Atlamál_, may indeed owe something to the facts +recorded by historians, and something more to vaguer historical +tradition of the vengeance of Rosamund on Alboin the Lombard. But, in +the main, the story of the Niblungs is independent of history, in +respect of its matter; in its meaning and effect as a poetical story +it is absolutely free from history. It is a drama of personal +encounters and rivalries. This also, like the story of Achilles, is +fit for a stage in which the characters are left free to declare +themselves in their own way, unhampered by any burden of history, any +purpose or moral apart from the events that are played out in the +dramatic clashing of one will against another. + +It is not vanity in an historian to look for the historical origin of +the tale of Troy or of the vengeance of Gudrun; but no result in +either case can greatly affect the intrinsic relations of the various +elements within the poems. The relations of Achilles to his +surroundings in the _Iliad_, of Attila and Ermanaric to theirs, are +freely conceived by the several poets, and are intelligible at once, +without reference to anything outside the poems. To require of the +poetry of an heroic age that it shall recognise the historical meaning +and importance of the events in which it originates, and the persons +whose names it uses, is entirely to mistake the nature of it. Its +nature is to find or make some drama played by kings and heroes, and +to let the historical framework take care of itself. The connexion of +epic poetry with history is real, and it is a fitting subject for +historical inquiry, but it lies behind the scene. The epic poem is cut +loose and set free from history, and goes on a way of its own. + +Epic magnificence and the dignity of heroic poetry may thus be only +indirectly derived from such greatness or magnificence as is known to +true prosaic history. The heroes, even if they can be identified as +historical, may retain in epic nothing of their historical character, +except such qualities as fit them for great actions. Their conduct in +epic poetry may be very far unlike their actual demeanour in true +history; their greatest works may be thrust into a corner of the epic, +or barely alluded to, or left out altogether. Their greatness in epic +may be quite a different kind of greatness from that of their true +history and where there are many poems belonging to the same cycle +there may be the greatest discrepancy among the views taken of the +same hero by different authors, and all the views may be alike remote +from the prosaic or scientific view. There is no constant or +self-consistent opinion about the character of Charles the Emperor in +old French poetry: there is one view in the _Chanson de Roland_, +another in the _Pčlerinage_, another in the _Coronemenz Looďs_: none +of the opinions is anything like an elaborate or detailed historical +judgment. Attila, though he loses his political importance and most of +his historical acquisitions in the Teutonic heroic poems in which he +appears, may retain in some of them his ruthlessness and strength; at +other times he may be a wise and peaceful king. All that is constant, +or common, in the different poetical reports of him, is that he was +great. What touches the mind of the poet out of the depths of the past +is nothing but the tradition, undefined, of something lordly. This +vagueness of tradition does not imply that tradition is impotent or +barren; only that it leaves all the execution, the growth of detail, +to the freedom of the poet. He is bound to the past, in one way; it is +laid upon him to tell the stories of the great men of his own race. +But in those stories, as they come to him, what is most lively is not +a set and established series of incidents, true or false, but +something to which the standards of truth and falsehood are scarcely +applicable; something stirring him up to admiration, a compulsion or +influence upon him requiring him to make the story again in his own +way; not to interpret history, but to make a drama of his own, filled +somehow with passion and strength of mind. It does not matter in what +particular form it may be represented, so long as in some form or +other the power of the national glory is allowed to pass into his +work. + +This vagueness and generality in the relation of heroic poetry to the +historical events and persons of an heroic age is of course quite a +different thing from vagueness in the poetry itself. Gunther and +Attila, Roland and Charlemagne, in poetry, are very vaguely connected +with their antitypes in history; but that does not prevent them from +being characterised minutely, if it should agree with the poet's taste +or lie within his powers to have it so. The strange thing is that this +vague relation should be so necessary to heroic poetry; that it should +be impossible at any stage of literature or in any way by taking +thought to make up for the want of it. + +The place of Gunther the Burgundian, Sigfred the Frank, and Attila the +Hun, in the poetical stories of the Niblung treasure may be in one +sense accidental. The fables of the treasure with a curse upon it, the +killing of the dragon, the sleeping princess, the wavering flame, are +not limited to this particular course of tradition, and, further, the +traditional motives of the Niblung story have varied enormously not +only in different countries, but in one and the same language at the +same time. The story is never told alike by two narrators; what is +common and essential in it is nothing palpable or fixed, but goes from +poet to poet "like a shadow from dream to dream." And the historical +names are apparently unessential; yet they remain. To look for the +details of the Niblung story in the sober history of the Goths and +Huns, Burgundians and Franks, is like the vanity confessed by the +author of the _Roman de Rou_, when he went on a sentimental journey to +Broceliande, and was disappointed to find there only the common +daylight and nothing of the Faerie. Nevertheless it is the historical +names, and the vague associations about them, that give to the Niblung +story, not indeed the whole of its plot, but its temper, its pride and +glory, its heroic and epic character. + +Heroic poetry is not, as a rule, greatly indebted to historical fact +for its material. The epic poet does not keep record of the great +victories or the great disasters. He cannot, however, live without the +ideas and sentiments of heroism that spring up naturally in periods +like those of the Teutonic migrations. In this sense the historic +Gunther and Attila are necessary to the Niblung story. The wars and +fightings of generation on generation went to create the heroism, the +loftiness of spirit, expressed in the Teutonic epic verse. The plots +of the stories may be commonplace, the common property of all popular +tales. The temper is such as is not found everywhere, but only in +historical periods of great energy. The names of Ermanaric and Attila +correspond to hardly anything of literal history in the heroic poems; +but they are the sign of conquests and great exploits that have gone +to form character, though their details are forgotten. + +It may be difficult to appreciate and understand in detail this vague +relation of epic poetry to the national life and to the renown of the +national heroes, but the general fact is not less positive or less +capable of verification than the date of the battle of Châlons, or the +series of the Gothic vowels. All that is needed to prove this is to +compare the poetry of a national cycle with the poetry that comes in +its place when the national cycle is deserted for other heroes. + +The secondary or adopted themes may be treated with so much of the +manner of the original poetry as to keep little of their foreign +character. The rhetoric, the poetical habit, of the original epic may +be retained. As in the Saxon poem on the Gospel history, the +_Hęliand_, the twelve disciples may be represented as Thanes owing +loyalty to their Prince, in common poetic terms befitting the men of +Beowulf or Byrhtnoth. As in the French poems on Alexander the Great, +Alexander may become a feudal king, and take over completely all that +belongs to such a rank. There may be no consciousness of any need for +a new vocabulary or a new mode of expression to fit the foreign +themes. In France, it is true, there is a general distinction of form +between the _Chansons de Geste_ and the romances; though to this there +are exceptions, themes not French, and themes not purely heroic, being +represented in the epic form. In the early Teutonic poetry there is no +distinction of versification, vocabulary, or rhetoric between the +original and the secondary narrative poems; the alliterative verse +belongs to both kinds equally. Nor is it always the case that subjects +derived from books or from abroad are handled with less firmness than +the original and traditional plots. Though sometimes a prevailing +affection for imported stories, for Celtic or Oriental legend, may be +accompanied by a relaxation in the style, the superiority of national +to foreign subjects is not always proved by greater strength or +eloquence. Can it be said that the Anglo-Saxon _Judith_, for instance, +is less heroic, less strong and sound, than the somewhat damaged and +motley accoutrements of Beowulf? + +The difference is this, that the more original and native kind of epic +has immediate association with all that the people know about +themselves, with all their customs, all that part of their experience +which no one can account for or refer to any particular source. A poem +like _Beowulf_ can play directly on a thousand chords of association; +the range of its appeal to the minds of an audience is almost +unlimited; on no side is the poet debarred from freedom of movement, +if only he remember first of all what is due to the hero. He has all +the life of his people to strengthen him. + +A poem like the _Hęliand_ is under an obligation to a literary +original, and cannot escape from this restriction. It makes what use +it can of the native associations, but with whatever perseverance the +author may try to bend his story into harmony with the laws of his own +country, there is an untranslated residue of foreign ideas. + +Whatever the defects or excesses of _Beowulf_ may be, the characters +are not distressed by any such unsolved contradiction as in the Saxon +_Hęliand_, or in the old English _Exodus_, or _Andreas_, or the other +poems taken from the Bible or the lives of saints. They have not, like +the personages of the second order of poems, been translated from one +realm of ideas to another, and made to take up burdens and offices +not their own. They have grown naturally in the mind of a poet, out of +the poet's knowledge of human nature, and the traditional ethical +judgments of which he is possessed. + +The comparative freedom of _Beowulf_ in its relation to historical +tradition and traditional ethics, and the comparative limitation of +the _Hęliand_, are not in themselves conditions of either advantage or +inferiority. They simply mark the difference between two types of +narrative poem. To be free and comprehensive in relation to history, +to summarise and represent in epic characters the traditional +experience of an heroic age, is not the proper virtue of every kind of +poetry, though it is proper to the Homeric kind. The freedom that +belongs to the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_ is also shared by many a +dismal and interminable poem of the Middle Ages. That foreign or +literary subjects impose certain limitations, and interfere with the +direct use of matter of experience in poetry, is nothing against them. +The Anglo-Saxon _Judith_, which is thus restricted as compared with +_Beowulf_, may be more like Milton for these restrictions, if it be +less like Homer. Exemption from them is not a privilege, except that +it gives room for the attainment of a certain kind of excellence, the +Homeric kind; as, on the other hand, it excludes the possibility of +the literary art of Virgil or Milton. + +The relation of epic poetry to its heroic age is not to be found in +the observance of any strict historical duty. It lies rather in the +epic capacity for bringing together all manner of lively passages from +the general experience of the age, in a story about famous heroic +characters. The plot of the story gives unity and harmony to the +composition, while the variety of its matter is permitted and +justified by the dramatic variety of the characters and their +interests. + +By its comprehensiveness and the variety of its substance, which are +the signs and products of its dramatic imagination, epic poetry of the +heroic age is distinguished from the more abstract kinds of narrative, +such as the artificial epic, and from all kinds of imagination or +fancy that are limited in their scope. + +In times when "the Epic Poem" was a more attractive, if not more +perilous theme of debate than it now is, there was a strong +controversy about the proper place and the proper kind of miraculous +details to be admitted. The question was debated by Tasso in his +critical writings, against the strict and pedantic imitators of +classical models, and with a strong partiality for Ariosto against +Trissino. Tasso made less of a distinction between romance and epic +than was agreeable to some of his successors in criticism; and the +controversy went on for generations, always more or less concerned +with the great Italian heroic poems, _Orlando_ and _Jerusalem_. Some +record of it will be found in Dr. Hurd's _Letters on Chivalry and +Romance_ (1762). If the controversy has any interest now, it must be +because it provided the most extreme statements of abstract literary +principles, which on account of their thoroughness are interesting. +From the documents it can be ascertained how near some of the critics +came to that worship of the Faultless Hero with which Dryden in his +heroic plays occasionally conformed, while he guarded himself against +misinterpretation in his prefaces. + +The epic poetry of the more austere critics was devised according to +the strictest principles of dignity and sublimity, with a precise +exclusion of everything "Gothic" and romantic. Davenant's Preface to +_Gondibert_--"the Author's Preface to his much Honour'd friend, Mr +Hobs"--may show how the canon of epic was understood by poets who took +things seriously; "for I will yield to their opinion, who permit not +_Ariosto_, no, not _Du Bartas_, in this eminent rank of the +_Heroicks_; rather than to make way by their admission for _Dante_, +_Marino_, and others." + +It is somewhat difficult to find a common measure for these names, but +it is clear that what is most distasteful to the writer, in theory at +any rate, is variety. Epic is the most solemn, stately, and frigid of +all kinds of composition. This was the result attained by the perverse +following of precepts supposed to be classical. The critics of the +seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were generally right in +distinguishing between Epic and Romance, and generally wrong in +separating the one kind from the other as opposite and mutually +exclusive forms, instead of seeing with Tasso, in his critical +discourses, that romance may be included in epic. Against the manifold +perils of the Gothic fantasy they set up the image of the Abstract +Hero, and recited the formulas of the decorous and symmetrical +abstract heroic poem. They were occasionally troubled by the "Gothic" +elements in Homer, of which their adversaries were not slow to take +advantage. + +One of the most orthodox of all the formalists, who for some reason +came to be very much quoted in England, Bossu, in his discourse on the +Epic Poem, had serious difficulties with the adventures of Ulysses, +and his stories told in Phaeacia. The episodes of Circe, of the +Sirens, and of Polyphemus, are _machines_; they are also not quite +easy to understand. "They are necessary to the action, and yet they +are not humanly probable." But see how Homer gets over the difficulty +and brings back these _machines_ to the region of human probability. +"Homčre les fait adroitement rentrer dans la Vraisemblance humaine par +la simplicité de ceux devant qui il fait faire ses récits fabuleux. Il +dit assez plaisamment que les Phéaques habitoient dans une Isle +éloignée des lieux oů demeurent les hommes qui ont de l'esprit. +[Greek: heisen d' en Scherię hekas andrôn alphęstaôn]. Ulysses les +avoit connus avant que de se faire connoître ŕ eux: et aiant observé +qu'ils avoient toutes les qualités de ces fainéans qui n'admirent rien +avec plus de plaisir que les aventures Romanesques: il les satisfait +par ces récits accommodez ŕ leur humeur. Mais le Poëte n'y a pas +oublié les Lecteurs raisonnables. Il leur a donné en ces Fables tout +le plaisir que l'on peut tirer des véritez Morales, si agréablement +déguisées sous ces miraculeuses allégories. C'est ainsi qu'il a réduit +ces Machines dans la vérité et dans la Vraisemblance Poëtique."[7] + +[Footnote 7: _Traité du Poëme Épique_, par le R.P. Le Bossu, Chanoine +Régulier de Sainte Genevičve; MDCLXXV (t. ii. p. 166).] + +Although the world has fallen away from the severity of this critic, +there is still a meaning at the bottom of his theory of machines. He +has at any rate called attention to one of the most interesting parts +of Epic, and has found the right word for the episodes of the +Phaeacian story of Odysseus. Romance is the word for them, and Romance +is at the same time one of the constituent parts and one of the +enemies of epic poetry. That it was dangerous was seen by the +academical critics. They provided against it, generally, by treating +it with contempt and proscribing it, as was done by those French +critics who were offended by Ariosto and perplexed by much of the +Gothic machinery of Tasso. They did not readily admit that epic poetry +is as complex as the plays of Shakespeare, and as incongruous as these +in its composition, if the different constituents be taken out +separately in the laboratory and then compared. + +Romance by itself is a kind of literature that does not allow the full +exercise of dramatic imagination; a limited and abstract form, as +compared with the fulness and variety of Epic; though episodes of +romance, and romantic moods and digressions, may have their place, +along with all other human things, in the epic scheme. + +The difference between the greater and the lesser kinds of narrative +literature is vital and essential, whatever names may be assigned to +them. In the one kind, of which Aristotle knew no other examples than +the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_, the personages are made individual +through their dramatic conduct and their speeches in varying +circumstances; in the other kind, in place of the moods and sentiments +of a multitude of different people entering into the story and working +it out, there is the sentiment of the author in his own person; there +is one voice, the voice of the story-teller, and his theory of the +characters is made to do duty for the characters themselves. There may +be every poetic grace, except that of dramatic variety; and wherever, +in narrative, the independence of the characters is merged in the +sequence of adventures, or in the beauty of the landscape, or in the +effusion of poetic sentiment, the narrative falls below the highest +order, though the art be the art of Ovid or of Spenser. + +The romance of Odysseus is indeed "brought into conformity with poetic +verisimilitude," but in a different way from that of Bossu _On the +Epic Poem_. It is not because the Phaeacians are romantic in their +tastes, but because it belongs to Odysseus, that the Phaeacian night's +entertainment has its place in the _Odyssey_. The _Odyssey_ is the +story of his home-coming, his recovery of his own. The great action +of the drama of Odysseus is in his dealings with Penelope, Eumaeus, +Telemachus, the suitors. The Phaeacian story is indeed episodic; the +interest of those adventures is different from that of the meeting +with Penelope. Nevertheless it is all kept in harmony with the +stronger part of the poem. It is not pure fantasy and "Faerie," like +the voyage of Maelduin or the vigil in the castle of Busirane. +Odysseus in the house of Alcinous is not different from Odysseus of +the return to Ithaca. The story is not pure romance, it is a dramatic +monologue; and the character of the speaker has more part than the +wonders of the story in the silence that falls on the listeners when +the story comes to an end. + +In all early literature it is hard to keep the story within limits, to +observe the proportion of the _Odyssey_ between strong drama and +romance. The history of the early heroic literature of the Teutonic +tongues, and of the epics of old France, comes to an end in the +victory of various romantic schools, and of various restricted and +one-sided forms of narrative. From within and without, from the +resources of native mythology and superstition and from the +fascination of Welsh and Arabian stories, there came the temptation to +forget the study of character, and to part with an inheritance of +tragic fables, for the sake of vanities, wonders, and splendours among +which character and the tragic motives lost their pre-eminent interest +and their old authority over poets and audience. + + +III + +ROMANTIC MYTHOLOGY + +Between the dramatic qualities of epic poetry and the myths and +fancies of popular tradition there must inevitably be a conflict and a +discrepancy. The greatest scenes of the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_ have +little to do with myth. Where the characters are most vividly realised +there is no room for the lighter kinds of fable; the epic "machines" +are superfluous. Where all the character of Achilles is displayed in +the interview with Priam, all his generosity, all his passion and +unreason, the imagination refuses to be led away by anything else from +looking on and listening. The presence of Hermes, Priam's guide, is +forgotten. Olympus cannot stand against the spell of words like those +of Priam and Achilles; it vanishes like a parched scroll. In the great +scene in the other poem where the disguised Odysseus talks with +Penelope, but will not make himself known to her for fear of spoiling +his plot, there is just as little opportunity for any intervention of +the Olympians. "Odysseus pitied his wife as she wept, but his eyes +were firm as horn or steel, unwavering in his eyelids, and with art he +concealed his tears.[8]" + +[Footnote 8: + + [Greek: autar' Odysseus + thymôi men gooôsan heęn eleaire gynaika, + ophthalmoi d' hôs ei kera hestasan ęe sidęros + atremas en blepharoisi; dolôi d' ho ge dakrya keuthen.] + + _Od._ xix. 209.] + +In passages like these the epic poet gets clear away from the cumbrous +inheritance of traditional fancies and stories. In other places he is +inevitably less strong and self-sustained; he has to speak of the gods +of the nation, or to work into his large composition some popular and +improbable histories. The result in Homer is something like the result +in Shakespeare, when he has a more than usually childish or +old-fashioned fable to work upon. A story like that of the _Three +Caskets_ or the _Pound of Flesh_ is perfectly consistent with itself +in its original popular form. It is inconsistent with the form of +elaborate drama, and with the lives of people who have souls of their +own, like Portia or Shylock. Hence in the drama which uses the popular +story as its ground-plan, the story is never entirely reduced into +conformity with the spirit of the chief characters. The caskets and +the pound of flesh, in despite of all the author's pains with them, +are imperfectly harmonised; the primitive and barbarous imagination in +them retains an inconvenient power of asserting its discordance with +the principal parts of the drama. Their unreason is of no great +consequence, yet it is something; it is not quite kept out of sight. + +The epic poet, at an earlier stage of literature than Shakespeare, is +even more exposed to this difficulty. Shakespeare was free to take his +plots where he chose, and took these old wives' tales at his own risk. +The epic poet has matter of this sort forced upon him. In his +treatment of it, it will be found that ingenuity does not fail him, +and that the transition from the unreasonable or old-fashioned part of +his work to the modern and dramatic part is cunningly worked out. "He +gets over the unreason by the grace and skill of his handling,"[9] +says Aristotle of a critical point in the "machinery" of the +_Odyssey_, where Odysseus is carried ashore on Ithaca in his sleep. +There is a continual play in the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_ between the +wonders of mythology and the spirit of the drama. In this, as in other +things, the Homeric poems observe the mean: the extremes may be found +in the heroic literature of other nations; the extreme of marvellous +fable in the old Irish heroic legends, for example; the extreme of +plainness and "soothfastness" in the old English lay of _Maldon_. In +some medieval compositions, as in _Huon of Bordeaux_, the two extremes +are brought together clumsily and without harmony. In other medieval +works again it is possible to find something like the Homeric +proportion--the drama of strong characters, taking up and transforming +the fanciful products of an earlier world, the inventions of minds not +deeply or especially interested in character. + +[Footnote 9: + + [Greek: nun de tois allois agathois aphanizei hędunôn to atopon.] + + ARISTOT. _Poet._ 1460 b.] + +The defining and shaping of myths in epic poetry is a process that +cannot go on in a wholly simple and unreflecting society. On the +contrary, this process means that the earlier stages of religious +legend have been succeeded by a time of criticism and selection. It is +hard on the old stories of the gods when men come to appreciate the +characters of Achilles and Odysseus. The old stories are not all of +equal value and authority; they cannot all be made to fit in with the +human story; they have to be tested, and some have to be rejected as +inconvenient. The character of the gods is modified under the +influence of the chief actors in the drama. Agamemnon, Diomede, +Odysseus, Ajax, and Achilles set the standard by which the gods are +judged. The Homeric view of the gods is already more than half-way to +the view of a modern poet. The gods lose their old tyranny and their +right to the steam of sacrifice as they gain their new poetical +empire, from which they need not fear to be banished; not, at any +rate, for any theological reasons. + +In Shakespearean drama, where each man is himself, with his own +character and his own fortune to make, there is small scope for any +obvious Divine interposition in the scene. The story of human actions +and characters, the more fully it is developed, leaves the less +opportunity for the gods to interfere in it. Something of this sort +was felt by certain medieval historians; they found it necessary to +begin with an apologetic preface explaining the long-suffering of God, +who has given freedom to the will of man to do good or evil. It was +felt to be on the verge of impiety to think of men as left to +themselves and doing what they pleased. Those who listen to a story +might be tempted to think of the people in it as self-sufficient and +independent powers, trespassing on the domain of Providence. A pious +exculpation was required to clear the author of blame.[10] + +[Footnote 10: "In the events of this history may be proved the great +long-suffering of God Almighty towards us every day; and the freedom +of will which He has given to every man, that each may do what he +will, good or evil."--_Hrafns Saga_, Prologue (_Sturlunga Saga_ +Oxford, 1878, II. p. 275). + +"As all good things are the work of God, so valour is made by Him and +placed in the heart of stout champions, and freedom therewithal to use +it as they will, for good or evil."--_Fóstbrćđra Saga_ (1852), p. 12: +one of the sophistical additions to the story: see below p. 275. + +The moral is different in the following passage:-- + +"And inasmuch as the Providence of God hath ordained, and it is His +pleasure, that the seven planets should have influence on the world, +and bear dominion over man's nature, giving him divers inclinations to +sin and naughtiness of life: nevertheless the Universal Creator has +not taken from him the free will, which, as it is well governed, may +subdue and abolish these temptations by virtuous living, if men will +use discretion."--_Tirant lo Blanch_ (1460), c. i.] + +In the _Iliad_ this scrupulous conscience has less need to deliver +itself. The gods are not far away; the heroes are not left alone. But +the poet has already done much to reduce the immediate power of the +gods, not by excluding them from the action, certainly, nor by any +attenuation of their characters into allegory, but by magnifying and +developing the characters of men. In many occasional references it +would seem that an approach was being made to that condition of mind, +at ease concerning the gods, so common in the North, in Norway and +Iceland, in the last days of heathendom. There is the great speech of +Hector to Polydamas--"we defy augury"[11]--there is the speech of +Apollo himself to Aeneas[12] about those who stand up for their own +side, putting trust in their own strength. But passages like these do +not touch closely on the relations of gods and men as they are +depicted in the story. As so depicted, the gods are not shadowy or +feeble abstractions and personifications; yet they are not of the +first value to the poem, they do not set the tone of it. + +[Footnote 11: _Il._ xii. 241.] + +[Footnote 12: _Il._ xvii. 227.] + +They are subsidiary, like some other of the most beautiful things in +the poem; like the similes of clouds and winds, like the pictures on +the Shield. They are there because the whole world is included in epic +poetry; the heroes, strong in themselves as they could be if they were +left alone in the common day, acquire an additional strength and +beauty from their fellowship with the gods. Achilles talking with the +Embassy is great; he is great in another way when he stands at the +trench with the flame of Athena on his head. These two scenes belong +to two different kinds of imagination. It is because the first is +there that the second takes effect. It is the hero that gives meaning +and glory to the light of the goddess. It is of some importance that +it is Achilles, and not another, that here is crowned with the light +of heaven and made terrible to his enemies. + +There is a double way of escape for young nations from their outgrown +fables and mythologies. They start with enormous, monstrous, and +inhuman beliefs and stories. Either they may work their way out of +them, by gradual rejection of the grosser ingredients, to something +more or less positive and rational; or else they may take up the myths +and transmute them into poetry. + +The two processes are not independent of one another. Both are found +together in the greater artists of early times, in Homer most notably; +and also in artists less than Homer; in the poem of _Beowulf_, in the +stories of Sigfred and Brynhild. + +There are further, under the second mode, two chief ways of operation +by which the fables of the gods may be brought into poetry. + +It is possible to take them in a light-hearted way and weave them into +poetical stories, without much substance or solemnity; enhancing the +beauty that may be inherent in any part of the national legend, and +either rejecting the scandalous chronicle of Olympus or Asgard +altogether, or giving it over to the comic graces of levity and irony, +as in the Phaeacian story of Ares and Aphrodite, wherein the Phaeacian +poet digressed from his tales of war in the spirit of Ariosto, and +with an equally accomplished and elusive defiance of censure.[13] + +[Footnote 13: The censure is not wanting:-- + +"L'on doit considérer que ce n'est ni le Poëte, ni son Héros, ni un +honnęte homme qui fait ce récit: mais que les Phéaques, peuples mols +et effeminez, se le font chanter pendant leur festin."--BOSSU, _op. +cit._ p. 152.] + +There is another way in which poetry may find room for fable. + +It may treat the myths of the gods as material for the religious or +the ethical imagination, and out of them create ideal characters, +analogous in poetry to the ideal divine or heroic figures of painting +and sculpture. This is the kind of imagination in virtue of which +modern poets are best able to appropriate the classical mythology; but +this modern imagination is already familiar to Homer, and that not +only in direct description, as in the description of the majesty of +Zeus, but also, more subtly, in passages where the character of the +divinity is suggested by comparison with one of the human personages, +as when Nausicaa is compared to Artemis,[14] a comparison that +redounds not less to the honour of the goddess than of Nausicaa. + +[Footnote 14: _Od._ vi. 151.] + +In Icelandic literature there are many instances of the trouble +arising from inconsiderate stories of the gods, in the minds of people +who had got beyond the more barbarous kind of mythology. They took the +boldest and most conclusive way out of the difficulty; they made the +barbarous stories into comedy. The _Lokasenna_, a poem whose author +has been called the Aristophanes of the Western Islands, is a dramatic +piece in which Loki, the Northern Satan, appearing in the house of the +gods, is allowed to bring his railing accusations against them and +remind them of their doings in the "old days." One of his victims +tells him to "let bygones be bygones." The gods are the subject of +many stories that are here raked up against them, stories of another +order of belief and of civilisation than those in which Odin appears +as the wise and sleepless counsellor. This poem implies a great amount +of independence in the author of it. It is not a satire on the gods; +it is pure comedy; that is, it belongs to a type of literature which +has risen above prejudices and which has an air of levity because it +is pure sport--or pure art--and therefore is freed from bondage to +the matter which it handles. This kind of invention is one that tests +the wit of its audience. A serious-minded heathen of an older school +would no doubt have been shocked by the levity of the author's manner. +Not much otherwise would the poem have affected a serious adversary of +heathendom, or any one whose education had been entirely outside of +the circle of heathen or mythological tradition. An Englishman of the +tenth century, familiar with the heroic poetry of his own tongue, +would have thought it indecent. If chance had brought such an one to +hear this _Lokasenna_ recited at some entertainment in a great house +of the Western Islands, he might very well have conceived the same +opinion of his company and their tastes in literature as is ascribed +by Bossu to Ulysses among the Phaeacians. + +This genius for comedy is shown in other Icelandic poems. As soon as +the monstrosities of the old traditions were felt to be monstrous, +they were overcome (as Mr. Carlyle has shown) by an appreciation of +the fun of them, and so they ceased to be burdensome. It is something +of this sort that has preserved old myths, for amusement, in popular +tales all over the world. The Icelandic poets went further, however, +than most people in their elaborate artistic treatment of their myths. +There is with them more art and more self-consciousness, and they give +a satisfactory and final poetical shape to these things, extracting +pure comedy from them. + +The perfection of this ironical method is to be found in the _Edda_, a +handbook of the Art of Poetry, written in the thirteenth century by a +man of liberal genius, for whom the Ćsir were friends of the +imagination, without any prejudice to the claims of the Church or of +his religion. In the view of Snorri Sturluson, the old gods are exempt +from any touch of controversy. Belief has nothing to do with them; +they are free. It may be remembered that some of the greatest English +writers of the seventeenth century have come short of this security of +view, and have not scrupled to repeat the calumny of the missionaries +and the disputants against the ancient gods, that Jupiter and Apollo +were angels of the bottomless pit, given over to their own devices for +a season, and masking as Olympians. + +In this freedom from embarrassing and irrelevant considerations in +dealing with myth, the author of the _Edda_ follows in his prose the +spirit of mythological poems three centuries older, in which, even +before the change of faith in the North, the gods were welcomed +without fear as sharing in many humorous adventures. + +And at the same time, along with this detached and ironical way of +thinking there is to be found in the Northern poetry the other, more +reverent mode of shaping the inherited fancies; the mode of Pindar, +rejecting the vain things fabled about the gods, and holding fast to +the more honourable things. The humours of Thor in the fishing for the +serpent and the winning of the hammer may be fairly likened to the +humours of Hermes in the Greek hymn. The _Lokasenna_ has some likeness +to the Homeric description of the brawls in heaven. But in the poems +that refer to the death of Balder and the sorrow of the gods there is +another tone; and the greatest of them all, the _Sibyl's Prophecy_, is +comparable, not indeed in volume of sound, but in loftiness of +imagination, to the poems in which Pindar has taken up the myths of +most inexhaustible value and significance--the Happy Islands, the +Birth of Athena. + +The poet who lives in anything like an heroic or Homeric age has it in +his power to mingle the elements of mythology and of human +story--Phaeacia and Ithaca--in any proportion he pleases. As a matter +of fact, all varieties of proportion are to be found in medieval +documents. At the one extreme is the mythological romance and fantasy +of Celtic epic, and at the other extreme the plain narrative of human +encounters, in the old English battle poetry or the Icelandic family +histories. As far as one can judge from the extant poems, the old +English and old German poetry did not make such brilliant romance out +of mythological legend as was produced by the Northern poets. These +alone, and not the poets of England or Saxony, seem to have +appropriated for literature, in an Homeric way, the histories of the +gods. Myth is not wanting in old English or German poetry, but it does +not show itself in the same clear and delightful manner as in the +Northern poems of Thor, or in the wooing of Frey. + +Thus in different places there are different modes in which an +inheritance of mythical ideas may be appreciated and used. It may +become a treasury for self-possessed and sure-handed artists, as in +Greece, and so be preserved long after it has ceased to be adequate to +all the intellectual desires. It may, by the fascination of its +wealth, detain the minds of poets in its enchanted ground, and prevent +them from ever working their way through from myth to dramatic +imagination, as in Ireland. + +The early literature, and therewith the intellectual character and +aptitudes, of a nation may be judged by their literary use of +mythology. They may neglect it, like the Romans; they may neglect all +things for the sake of it, like the Celts; they may harmonise it, as +the Greeks did, in a system of imaginative creations where the +harmony is such that myth need never be felt as an encumbrance or an +absurdity, however high or far the reason may go beyond it in any +direction of art or science. + +At the beginning of modern literature there are to be found the +attempts of Irish and Welsh, of English and Germans, Danes and +Northmen, to give shape to myth, and make it available for literature. +Together with that, and as part of the same process, there is found +the beginning of historical literature in an heroic or epic form. The +results are various; but one thing may be taken as certain, that +progress in literature is most assured when the mythology is so far +under control as to leave room for the drama of epic characters; for +epic, as distinguished from romance. + +Now the fortunes of these people were such as to make this +self-command exceedingly difficult for them, and to let in an enormous +extraneous force, encouraging the native mythopoetic tendencies, and +unfavourable to the growth of epic. They had to come to an +understanding with themselves about their own heathen traditions, to +bring the extravagances of them into some order, so as to let the epic +heroes have free play. But they were not left to themselves in this +labour of bringing mythology within bounds; even before they had +fairly escaped from barbarism, before they had made a fair beginning +of civilisation and of reflective literature on their own account, +they were drawn within the Empire, into Christendom. Before their +imaginations had fully wakened out of the primeval dream, the +cosmogonies and theogonies, gross and monstrous, of their national +infancy, they were asked to have an opinion about the classical +mythology, as represented by the Latin poets; they were made +acquainted with the miracles of the lives of saints. + +More than all this, even, their minds were charmed away from the +labour of epic invention, by the spell of the preacher. The task of +representing characters--Waldere or Theodoric or Attila--was forgotten +in the lyrical rapture of devotion, in effusion of pathos. The +fascination of religious symbolism crept over minds that had hardly +yet begun to see and understand things as they are; and in all their +reading the "moral," "anagogical," and "tropological" significations +prevailed against the literal sense. + +One part of medieval history is concerned with the progress of the +Teutonic nations, in so far as they were left to themselves, and in so +far as their civilisation is home-made. The _Germania_ of Tacitus, for +instance, is used by historians to interpret the later development of +Teutonic institutions. But this inquiry involves a good deal of +abstraction and an artificial limitation of view. In reality, the +people of Germania were never left to themselves at all, were never +beyond the influence of Southern ideas; and the history of the +influence of Southern ideas on the Northern races takes up a larger +field than the isolated history of the North. Nothing in the world is +more fantastic. The logic of Aristotle and the art of Virgil are +recommended to people whose chief men, barons and earls, are commonly +in their tastes and acquirements not very different from the suitors +in the _Odyssey_. Gentlemen much interested in raids and forays, and +the profits of such business, are confronted with a literature into +which the labours of all past centuries have been distilled. In a +society that in its native elements is closely analogous to Homer's +Achaeans, men are found engaged in the study of Boethius _On the +Consolation of Philosophy_, a book that sums up the whole course of +Greek philosophical speculation. Ulysses quoting Aristotle is an +anachronism; but King Alfred's translation of Boethius is almost as +much of a paradox. It is not easy to remain unmoved at the thought of +the medieval industry bestowed on authors like Martianus Capella _de +Nuptiis Philologiae_, or Macrobius _de Somnio Scipionis_. What is to +be said of the solemnity with which, in their pursuit of authoritative +doctrine, they applied themselves to extract the spiritual meaning of +Ovid's _Metamorphoses_, and appropriate the didactic system of the +_Art of Love_? + +In medieval literature, whatever there is of the Homeric kind has an +utterly different relation to popular standards of appreciation from +that of the Homeric poems in Greece. Here and there some care may be +taken, as by Charlemagne and Alfred, to preserve the national heroic +poetry. But such regard for it is rare; and even where it is found, it +comes far short of the honour paid to Homer by Alexander. English Epic +is not first, but one of the least, among the intellectual and +literary interests of King Alfred. Heroic literature is only one +thread in the weft of medieval literature. + +There are some curious documents illustrative of its comparative +value, and of the variety and complexity of medieval literature. + +Hauk Erlendsson, an Icelander of distinction in the fourteenth +century, made a collection of treatises in one volume for his own +amusement and behoof. It contains the _Volospá_, the most famous of +all the Northern mythical poems, the Sibyl's song of the doom of the +gods; it contains also the _Landnámabók_, the history of the +colonisation of Iceland; _Kristni Saga_, the history of the conversion +to Christianity; the history of _Eric the Red_, and _Fóstbrćđra Saga_, +the story of the two sworn brethren, Thorgeir and Thormod the poet. +Besides these records of the history and the family traditions of +Iceland and Greenland, there are some mythical stories of later date, +dealing with old mythical themes, such as the life of Ragnar Lodbrok. +In one of them, the _Heidreks Saga_, are embedded some of the most +memorable verses, after _Volospá_, in the old style of Northern +poetry--the poem of the _Waking of Angantyr_. The other contents of +the book are as follows: geographical, physical, and theological +pieces; extracts from St. Augustine; the _History of the Cross_; the +_Description of Jerusalem_; the _Debate of Body and Soul_; +_Algorismus_ (by Hauk himself, who was an arithmetician); a version of +the _Brut_ and of _Merlin's Prophecy_; _Lucidarium_, the most popular +medieval handbook of popular science. This is the collection, to which +all the ends of the earth have contributed, and it is in strange and +far-fetched company like this that the Northern documents are found. +In Greece, whatever early transactions there may have been with the +wisdom of Egypt or Phoenicia, there is no such medley as this. + +Another illustration of the literary chaos is presented, even more +vividly than in the contents of Hauk's book, by the whalebone casket +in the British Museum. Weland the smith (whom Alfred introduced into +his _Boethius_) is here put side by side with the Adoration of the +Magi; on another side are Romulus and Remus; on another, Titus at +Jerusalem; on the lid of the casket is the defence of a house by one +who is shooting arrows at his assailants; his name is written over +him, and his name is _Ćgili_,--Egil the master-bowman, as Weland is +the master-smith, of the Northern mythology. Round the two companion +pictures, Weland on the left and the Three Kings on the right, side by +side, there go wandering runes, with some old English verses about +the "whale," or walrus, from which the ivory for these engravings was +obtained. The artist plainly had no more suspicion than the author of +_Lycidas_ that there was anything incorrect or unnatural in his +combinations. It is under these conditions that the heroic poetry of +Germania has been preserved; never as anything more than an accident +among an infinity of miscellaneous notions, the ruins of ancient +empires, out of which the commonplaces of European literature and +popular philosophy have been gradually collected. + +The fate of epic poetry was the same as that of the primitive German +forms of society. In both there was a progress towards independent +perfection, an evolution of the possibilities inherent in them, +independent of foreign influences. But both in Teutonic society, and +in the poetry belonging to it and reflecting it, this independent +course of life is thwarted and interfered with. Instead of independent +strong Teutonic national powers, there are the more or less Romanised +and blended nationalities possessing the lands that had been conquered +by Goths and Burgundians, Lombards and Franks; instead of Germania, +the Holy Roman Empire; instead of Epic, Romance; not the old-fashioned +romance of native mythology, not the natural spontaneous romance of +the Irish legends or the Icelandic stories of gods and giants, but the +composite far-fetched romance of the age of chivalry, imported from +all countries and literatures to satisfy the medieval appetite for +novel and wonderful things. + +Nevertheless, the stronger kind of poetry had still something to show, +before all things were overgrown with imported legend, and before the +strong enunciation of the older manner was put out of fashion by the +medieval clerks and rhetoricians. + + +IV + +THE THREE SCHOOLS--TEUTONIC EPIC--FRENCH EPIC--THE ICELANDIC HISTORIES + +The Teutonic heroic poetry was menaced on all hands from the earliest +times; it was turned aside from the national heroes by saints and +missionaries, and charmed out of its sterner moods by the spell of +wistful and regretful meditation. In continental Germany it appears to +have been early vanquished. In England, where the epic poetry was +further developed than on the Continent, it was not less exposed to +the rivalry of the ideas and subjects that belonged to the Church. + +The Anglo-Saxon histories of St. Andrew and St. Helen are as full of +romantic passages as those poems of the fourteenth century in which +the old alliterative verse is revived to tell the tale of Troy or of +the _Mort Arthur_. The national subjects themselves are not proof +against the ideas of the Church; even in the fragments of _Waldere_ +they are to be found; and the poem of _Beowulf_ has been filled, like +so much of the old English poetry, with the melancholy of the +preacher, and the sense of the vanity of earthly things. But the +influence of fantasy and pathos could not dissolve the strength of +epic beyond recovery, or not until it had done something to show what +it was worth. Not all the subjects are treated in the romantic manner +of Cynewulf and his imitators. The poem of _Maldon_, written at the +very end of the tenth century, is firm and unaffected in its style, +and of its style there can be no question that it is heroic. + +The old Norse poetry was beyond the influence of most of the +tendencies and examples that corrupted the heroic poetry of the +Germans, and changed the course of poetry in England. It was not till +the day of its glory was past that it took to subjects like those of +Cynewulf and his imitators. But it was hindered in other ways from +representing the lives of heroes in a consistent epic form. If it knew +less of the miracles of saints, it knew more of the old mythology; and +though it was not, like English and German poetry, taken captive by +the preachers, it was stirred and thrilled by the beauty of its own +stories in a way that inclined to the lyrical rather than the epic +tone. Yet here also there are passages of graver epic, where the tone +is more assured and the composition more stately. + +The relation of the French epics to French romance is on the one side +a relation of antagonism, in which the older form gives way to the +newer, because "the newer song is sweeter in the ears of men." The +_Chanson de Geste_ is driven out by poems that differ from it in +almost every possible respect; in the character of their original +subject-matter, in their verse, their rhetoric, and all their gear of +commonplaces, and all the devices of their art. But from another point +of view there may be detected in the _Chansons de Geste_ no small +amount of the very qualities that were fatal to them, when the +elements were compounded anew in the poems of _Erec_ and _Lancelot_. + +The French epics have many points of likeness with the Teutonic +poetry of _Beowulf_ or _Finnesburh_, or of the Norse heroic songs. +They are epic in substance, having historical traditions at the back +of them, and owing the materials of their picture to no deliberate +study of authorities. They differ from _Beowulf_ in this respect, +among others, that they are the poems of feudal society, not of the +simpler and earlier communities. The difference ought not to be +exaggerated. As far as heroic poetry is concerned, the difference lies +chiefly in the larger frame of the story. The kingdom of France in the +French epics is wider than the kingdom of Hrothgar or Hygelac. The +scale is nearer that of the _Iliad_ than of the _Odyssey_. The +"Catalogue of the Armies sent into the Field" is longer, the mass of +fighting-men is more considerable, than in the epic of the older +school. There is also, frequently, a much fuller sense of the national +greatness and the importance of the defence of the land against its +enemies, a consciousness of the dignity of the general history, unlike +the carelessness with which the Teutonic poets fling themselves into +the story of individual lives, and disregard the historical +background. Generally, however, the Teutonic freedom and rebellious +spirit is found as unmistakably in the _Chansons de Geste_ as in the +alliterative poems. Feudalism appears in heroic poetry, and indeed in +prosaic history, as a more elaborate form of that anarchy which is the +necessary condition of an heroic age. It does not deprive the poet of +his old subjects, his family enmities, and his adventures of private +war. Feudalism did not invent, neither did it take away, the virtue of +loyalty that has so large a place in all true epic, along with its +counterpart of defiance and rebellion, no less essential to the story. +It intensified the poetical value of both motives, but they are older +than the _Iliad_. It provided new examples of the "wrath" of injured +or insulted barons; it glorified to the utmost, it honoured as +martyrs, those who died fighting for their lord.[15] + +[Footnote 15: + + Lor autres mors ont toz en terre mis: + Crois font sor aus, qu'il erent droit martir: + Por lor seignor orent esté ocis. + + _Garin le Loherain_, tom. ii. p. 88.] + +In all this it did nothing to change the essence of heroic poetry. The +details were changed, the scene was enlarged, and so was the number of +the combatants. But the details of feudalism that make a difference +between Beowulf, or the men of Attila, and the epic paladins of +Charlemagne in the French poems of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, +need not obscure the essential resemblance between one heroic period +and another. + +On the other hand, it is plain from the beginning that French epic had +to keep its ground with some difficulty against the challenge of +romantic skirmishers. In one of the earliest of the poems about +Charlemagne, the Emperor and his paladins are taken to the East by a +poet whom Bossu would hardly have counted "honest." In the poem of +_Huon of Bordeaux_, much later, the story of Oberon and the magic horn +has been added to the plot of a feudal tragedy, which in itself is +compact and free from extravagance. Between those extreme cases there +are countless examples of the mingling of the graver epic with more or +less incongruous strains. Sometimes there is magic, sometimes the +appearance of a Paynim giant, often the repetition of long prayers +with allusions to the lives of saints and martyrs, and throughout +there is the constant presence of ideas derived from homilies and the +common teaching of the Church. In some of these respects the French +epics are in the same case as the old English poems which, like +_Beowulf_, show the mingling of a softer mood with the stronger; of +new conventions with old. In some respects they show a further +encroachment of the alien spirit. + +The English poem of _Maldon_ has some considerable likeness in the +matter of its story, and not a little in its ideal of courage, with +the _Song of Roland_. A comparison of the two poems, in those respects +in which they are commensurable, will show the English poem to be +wanting in certain elements of mystery that are potent in the other. + +The _Song of Maldon_ and the _Song of Roncesvalles_ both narrate the +history of a lost battle, of a realm defended against its enemies by a +captain whose pride and self-reliance lead to disaster, by refusing to +take fair advantage of the enemy and put forth all his available +strength. Byrhtnoth, fighting the Northmen on the shore of the Essex +river, allows them of his own free will to cross the ford and come to +close quarters. "He gave ground too much to the adversary; he called +across the cold river and the warriors listened: 'Now is space granted +to you; come speedily hither and fight; God alone can tell who will +hold the place of battle.' Then the wolves of blood, the rovers, waded +west over Panta." + +This unnecessary magnanimity has for the battle of Maldon the effect +of Roland's refusal to sound the horn at the battle of Roncesvalles; +it is the tragic error or transgression of limit that brings down the +crash and ruin at the end of the day. + +In both poems there is a like spirit of indomitable resistance. The +close of the battle of Maldon finds the loyal companions of Byrhtnoth +fighting round his body, abandoned by the cowards who have run away, +but themselves convinced of their absolute strength to resist to the +end. + + Byrhtwold spoke and grasped his shield--he was an old + companion--he shook his ashen spear, and taught courage to + them that fought:-- + + "Thought shall be the harder, heart the keener, mood shall + be the more, as our might lessens. Here our prince lies low, + they have hewn him to death! Grief and sorrow for ever on + the man that leaves this war-play! I am old of years, but + hence I will not go; I think to lay me down by the side of + my lord, by the side of the man I cherished." + +The story of Roncesvalles tells of an agony equally hopeless and +equally secure from every touch of fear. + +The _Song of Maldon_ is a strange poem to have been written in the +reign of Ethelred the Unready. But for a few phrases it might, as far +as the matter is concerned, have been written before the conversion of +England, and although it is a battle in defence of the country, and +not a mere incident of private war, the motive chiefly used is not +patriotism, but private loyalty to the captain. Roland is full of the +spirit of militant Christendom, and there is no more constant thought +in the poem than that of the glory of France. The virtue of the +English heroes is the old Teutonic virtue. The events of the battle +are told plainly and clearly; nothing adventitious is brought in to +disturb the effect of the plain story; the poetical value lies in the +contrast between the grey landscape (which is barely indicated), the +severe and restrained description of the fighters, on the one hand, +and on the other the sublimity of the spirit expressed in the last +words of the "old companion." In the narrative of events there are no +extraneous beauties to break the overwhelming strength of the +eloquence in which the meaning of the whole thing is concentrated. +With Roland at Roncesvalles the case is different. He is not shown in +the grey light of the Essex battlefield. The background is more +majestic. There is a mysterious half-lyrical refrain throughout the +tale of the battle: "high are the mountains and dark the valleys" +about the combatants in the pass; they are not left to themselves like +the warriors of the poem of _Maldon_. It is romance, rather than epic +or tragedy, which in this way recognises the impersonal power of the +scene; the strength of the hills under which the fight goes on. In the +first part of the _Odyssey_ the spell of the mystery of the sea is all +about the story of Odysseus; in the later and more dramatic part the +hero loses this, and all the strength is concentrated in his own +character. In the story of Roland there is a vastness and vagueness +throughout, coming partly from the numbers of the hosts engaged, +partly from the author's sense of the mystery of the Pyrenean valleys, +and, in a very large measure, from the heavenly aid accorded to the +champion of Christendom. The earth trembles, there is darkness over +all the realm of France even to the Mount St. Michael: + + C'est la dulur pur la mort de Rollant. + +St. Gabriel descends to take from the hand of Roland the glove that he +offers with his last confession; and the three great angels of the +Lord are there to carry his soul to Paradise. + +There is nothing like this in the English poem. The battle is fought +in the light of an ordinary day; there is nothing to greet the eyes of +Byrhtnoth and his men except the faces of their enemies. + +It is not hard to find in old English poetry descriptions less austere +than that of _Maldon_; there may be found in the French _Chansons de +Geste_ great spaces in which there is little of the majestic light and +darkness of Roncesvalles. But it is hard to escape the conviction that +the poem of _Maldon_, late as it is, has uttered the spirit and +essence of the Northern heroic literature in its reserved and simple +story, and its invincible profession of heroic faith; while the poem +of Roncesvalles is equally representative of the French epic spirit, +and of the French poems in which the ideas common to every heroic age +are expressed with all the circumstances of the feudal society of +Christendom, immediately before the intellectual and literary +revolutions of the twelfth century. The French epics are full of omens +of the coming victory of romance, though they have not yet given way. +They still retain, in spite of their anticipations of the Kingdom of +the Grail, an alliance in spirit with the older Teutonic poetry, and +with those Icelandic histories that are the highest literary +expression of the Northern spirit in its independence of feudalism. + +The heroic age of the ancient Germans may be said to culminate, and +end, in Iceland in the thirteenth century. The Icelandic _Sagas_--the +prose histories of the fortunes of the great Icelandic houses--are the +last and also the finest expression and record of the spirit and the +ideas belonging properly to the Germanic race in its own right, and +not derived from Rome or Christendom. Those of the German nations who +stayed longest at home had by several centuries the advantage of the +Goths and Franks, and had time to complete their native education +before going into foreign subjects. The English were less exposed to +Southern influences than the continental Germans; the Scandinavian +nations less than the Angles and Saxons. In Norway particularly, the +common German ideas were developed in a way that produced a code of +honour, a consciousness of duty, and a strength of will, such as had +been unknown in the German nations who were earlier called upon to +match themselves against Rome. Iceland was colonised by a picked lot +of Norwegians; by precisely those Norwegians who had this strength of +will in its highest degree. + +Political progress in the Middle Ages was by way of monarchy; but +strong monarchy was contrary to the traditions of Germania, and in +Norway, a country of great extent and great difficulties of +communication, the ambition of Harold Fairhair was resisted by numbers +of chieftains who had their own local following and their own family +dignity to maintain, in their firths and dales. Those men found Norway +intolerable through the tyranny of King Harold, and it was by them +that Iceland was colonised through the earlier colonies in the +west--in Scotland, in Ireland, in Shetland and the other islands. + +The ideas that took the Northern colonists to Iceland were the ideas +of Germania,--the love of an independent life, the ideal of the +old-fashioned Northern gentleman, who was accustomed to consideration +and respect from the freemen, his neighbours, who had authority by his +birth and fortune to look after the affairs of his countryside, who +would not make himself the tenant, vassal, or steward of any king. In +the new country these ideas were intensified and defined. The ideal of +the Icelandic Commonwealth was something more than a vague motive, it +was present to the minds of the first settlers in a clear and definite +form. The most singular thing in the heroic age of Iceland is that the +heroes knew what they were about. The heroic age of Iceland begins in +a commonwealth founded by a social contract. The society that is +established there is an association of individuals coming to an +agreement with one another to invent a set of laws and observe them. +Thus while Iceland on the one hand is a reactionary state, founded by +men who were turning their backs on the only possible means of +political progress, cutting themselves off from the world, and +adhering obstinately to forms of life with no future before them, on +the other hand this reactionary commonwealth, this fanatical +representative of early Germanic use and wont, is possessed of a +clearness of self-consciousness, a hard and positive clearness of +understanding, such as is to be found nowhere else in the Middle Ages +and very rarely at all in any polity. + +The prose literature of Iceland displays the same two contradictory +characters throughout. The actions described, and the customs, are +those of an early heroic age, with rather more than the common amount +of enmity and vengeance, and an unequalled power of resistance and +rebellion in the individual wills of the personages. The record of all +this anarchy is a prose history, rational and unaffected, seeing all +things in a dry light; a kind of literature that has not much to learn +from any humanism or rationalism, in regard to its own proper subjects +at any rate. + +The people of Iceland were not cut off from the ordinary European +learning and its commonplaces. They read the same books as were read +in England or Germany. They read St. Gregory _de Cura Pastorali_, they +read _Ovidius Epistolarum_, and all the other popular books of the +Middle Ages. In time those books and the world to which they belonged +were able to obtain a victory over the purity of the Northern +tradition and manners, but not until the Northern tradition had +exhausted itself, and the Icelandic polity began to break up. The +literature of the maturity of Iceland just before the fall of the +Commonwealth is a literature belonging wholly and purely to Iceland, +in a style unmodified by Latin syntax and derived from the colloquial +idiom. The matter is the same in kind as the common matter of heroic +poetry. The history represents the lives of adventurers, the rivalries +and private wars of men who are not ignorant of right and honour, but +who acknowledge little authority over them, and are given to choose +their right and wrong for themselves, and abide the consequences. This +common matter is presented in a form which may be judged on its own +merits, and there is no need to ask concessions from any one in +respect of the hard or unfavourable conditions under which this +literature was produced. One at least of the Icelandic Sagas is one of +the great prose works of the world--the story of Njal and his sons. + +The most perfect heroic literature of the Northern nations is to be +found in the country where the heroic polity and society had most room +and leisure; and in Iceland the heroic ideals of life had conditions +more favourable than are to be discovered anywhere else in history. +Iceland was a world divided from the rest, outside the orbit of all +the states of Europe; what went on there had little more than an ideal +relation to the course of the great world; it had no influence on +Europe, it was kept separate as much as might be from the European +storms and revolutions. What went on in Iceland was the progress in +seclusion of the old Germanic life--a life that in the rest of the +world had been blended and immersed in other floods and currents. +Iceland had no need of the great movements of European history. + +They had a humanism of their own, a rationalism of their own, gained +quite apart from the great European tumults, and gained prematurely, +in comparison with the rest of Europe. Without the labour of the +Middle Ages, without the storm and stress of the reform of learning, +they had the faculty of seeing things clearly and judging their values +reasonably, without superstition. They had to pay the penalty of their +opposition to the forces of the world; there was no cohesion in their +society, and when once the balance of power in the island was +disturbed, the Commonwealth broke up. But before that, they +accomplished what had been ineffectually tried by the poet of +_Beowulf_, the poet of _Roland_; they found an adequate form of heroic +narrative. Also in their use of this instrument they were led at last +to a kind of work that has been made nowhere else in the world, for +nowhere else does the form of heroic narrative come to be adapted to +contemporary events, as it was in Iceland, by historians who were +themselves partakers in the actions they described. Epic, if the Sagas +are epic, here coincides with autobiography. In the _Sturlunga Saga_, +written by Sturla, Snorri's nephew, the methods of heroic literature +are applied by an eye-witness to the events of his own time, and there +is no discrepancy or incongruity between form and matter. The age +itself takes voice and speaks in it; there is no interval between +actors and author. This work is the end of the heroic age, both in +politics and in literature. After the loss of Icelandic freedom there +is no more left of Germania, and the _Sturlunga Saga_ which tells the +story of the last days of freedom is the last word of the Teutonic +heroic age. It is not a decrepit or imitative or secondary thing; it +is a masterpiece; and with this true history, this adaptation of an +heroic style to contemporary realities, the sequence of German heroic +tradition comes to an end. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE TEUTONIC EPIC + + +I + +THE TRAGIC CONCEPTION + +Of the heroic poetry in the Teutonic alliterative verse, the history +must be largely conjectural. The early stages of it are known merely +through casual references like those of Tacitus. We know that to the +mind of the Emperor Julian, the songs of the Germans resembled the +croaking of noisy birds; but this criticism is not satisfactory, +though it is interesting. The heroes of the old time before Ermanaric +and Attila were not without their poets, but of what sort the poems +were in which their praises were sung, we can only vaguely guess. Even +of the poems that actually remain it is difficult to ascertain the +history and the conditions of their production. The variety of styles +discoverable in the extant documents is enough to prevent the easy +conclusion that the German poetry of the first century was already a +fixed type, repeated by successive generations of poets down to the +extinction of alliterative verse as a living form. + +After the sixth century things become a little clearer, and it is +possible to speak with more certainty. One thing at any rate of the +highest importance may be regarded as beyond a doubt. The passages in +which Jordanes tells of Suanihilda trampled to death by the horses of +Ermanaric, and of the vengeance taken by her brothers Sarus and +Ammius, are enough to prove that the subjects of heroic poetry had +already in the sixth century, if not earlier, formed themselves +compactly in the imagination. If Jordanes knew a Gothic poem on +Ermanaric and the brothers of Suanihilda, that was doubtless very +different from the Northern poem of Sorli and Hamther, which is a +later version of the same story. But even if the existence of a Gothic +ballad of Swanhild were doubted,--and the balance of probabilities is +against the doubter,--it follows indisputably from the evidence that +in the time of Jordanes people were accustomed to select and dwell +upon dramatic incidents in what was accepted as history; the +appreciation of tragedy was there, the talent to understand a tragic +situation, to shape a tragic plot, to bring out the essential matter +in relief and get rid of irrelevant particulars. + +In this respect at any rate, and it is one of the most important, +there is continuity in the ancient poetry, onward from this early +date. The stories of Alboin in the Lombard history of Paulus Diaconus, +the meaning of which for the history of poetry is explained so +admirably in the Introduction to _Corpus Poeticum Boreale_, by Dr. +Vigfusson and Mr. York Powell, are further and more vivid +illustrations of the same thing. In the story of the youth of Alboin, +and the story of his death, there is matter of the same amount as +would suffice for one of the short epics of the kind we know,--a poem +of the same length as the Northern lay of the death of Ermanaric, of +the same compass as _Waltharius_,--or, to take another standard of +measurement, matter for a single tragedy with the unities preserved. +Further, there is in both of them exactly that resolute comprehension +and exposition of tragic meaning which is the virtue of the short +epics. The tragic contradiction in them could not be outdone by Victor +Hugo. It is no wonder that the story of Rosamond and Albovine king of +the Lombards became a favourite with dramatists of different schools, +from the first essays of the modern drama in the _Rosmunda_ of +Rucellai, passing by the common way of the novels of Bandello to the +Elizabethan stage. The earlier story of Alboin's youth, if less +valuable for emphatic tragedy, being without the baleful figure of a +Rosamond or a Clytemnestra, is even more perfect as an example of +tragic complication. Here again is the old sorrow of Priam; the slayer +of the son face to face with the slain man's father, and not in +enmity. In beauty of original conception the story is not finer than +that of Priam and Achilles; and it is impossible to compare the +stories in any other respect than that of the abstract plot. But in +one quality of the plot the Lombard drama excels or exceeds the story +of the last book of the _Iliad_. The contradiction is strained with a +greater tension; the point of honour is more nearly absolute. This +does not make it a better story, but it proves that the man who told +the story could understand the requirements of a tragic plot, could +imagine clearly a strong dramatic situation, could refrain from +wasting or obliterating the outline of a great story. + +The Lombards and the Gepidae were at war. Alboin, son of the Lombard +king Audoin, and Thurismund, son of the Gepid king Thurisvend, met in +battle, and Alboin killed Thurismund. After the battle, the Lombards +asked King Audoin to knight his son. But Audoin answered that he would +not break the Lombard custom, according to which it was necessary for +the young man to receive arms first from the king of some other +people. Alboin when he heard this set out with forty of the Lombards, +and went to Thurisvend, whose son he had killed, to ask this honour +from him. Thurisvend welcomed him, and set him down at his right hand +in the place where his son used to sit. + +Then follows the critical point of the action. The contradiction is +extreme; the reconciliation also, the solution of the case, is +perfect. Things are stretched to the breaking-point before the release +comes; nothing is spared that can possibly aggravate the hatred +between the two sides, which is kept from breaking out purely by the +honour of the king. The man from whom an infinite debt of vengeance is +owing, comes of his own will to throw himself on the generosity of his +adversary. This, to begin with, is hardly fair to simple-minded people +like the Gepid warriors; they may fairly think that their king is +going too far in his reading of the law of honour: + + And it came to pass while the servants were serving at the + tables, that Thurisvend, remembering how his son had been + lately slain, and calling to mind his death, and beholding + his slayer there beside him in his very seat, began to draw + deep sighs, for he could not withhold himself any longer, + and at last his grief burst forth in words. "Very pleasant + to me," quoth he, "is the seat, but sad enough it is to see + him that is sitting therein."[16] + +[Footnote 16: _C.P.B._, Introduction, p. lii.] + +By his confession of his thoughts the king gives an opening to those +who are waiting for it, and it is taken at once. Insult and rejoinder +break out, and it is within a hair's breadth of the irretrievable +plunge that the king speaks his mind. He is lord in that house, and +his voice allays the tumult; he takes the weapons of his son +Thurismund, and gives them to Alboin and sends him back in peace and +safety to his father's kingdom. It is a great story, even in a prose +abstract, and the strength of its tragic problem is invincible. It is +with strength like that, with a knowledge not too elaborate or minute, +but sound and clear, of some of the possibilities of mental conflict +and tragic contradiction, that heroic poetry first reveals itself +among the Germans. It is this that gives strength to the story of the +combat between Hildebrand and his son, of the flight of Walter and +Hildegund, of the death of Brynhild, of Attila and Gudrun. Some of the +heroic poems and plots are more simple than these. The battle of +Maldon is a fair fight without any such distressful circumstances as +in the case of Hildebrand or of Walter of Aquitaine. The adventures of +Beowulf are simple, also; there is suspense when he waits the attack +of the monster, but there is nothing of the deadly crossing of +passions that there is in other stories. Even in _Maldon_, however, +there is the tragic error; the fall and defeat of the English is +brought about by the over-confidence and over-generosity of Byrhtnoth, +in allowing the enemy to come to close quarters. In _Beowulf_, though +the adventures of the hero are simple, other less simple stories are +referred to by the way. One of these is a counterpart to the story of +the youth of Alboin and the magnanimity of Thurisvend. One of the most +famous of all the old subjects of heroic poetry was the vengeance of +Ingeld for the death of his father, King Froda. The form of this story +in _Beowulf_ agrees with that of Saxo Grammaticus in preserving the +same kind of opposition as in the story of Alboin, only in this case +there is a different solution. Here a deadly feud has been put to rest +by a marriage, and the daughter of Froda's slayer is married to +Froda's son. But as in the Lombard history and in so many of the +stories of Iceland, this reconciliation is felt to be intolerable and +spurious; the need of vengeance is real, and it finds a spokesman in +an old warrior, who cannot forget his dead lord, nor endure the sight +of the new bride's kinsmen going free and wearing the spoils of their +victory. So Ingeld has to choose between his wife, wedded to him out +of his enemy's house, and his father, whom that enemy has killed. And +so everywhere in the remains, not too voluminous, of the literature of +the heroic age, one encounters this sort of tragic scheme. One of +those ancient plots, abstracted and written out fair by Saxo, is the +plot of _Hamlet_. + +There is not one of the old Northern heroic poems, as distinct from +the didactic and mythological pieces, that is without this tragic +contradiction; sometimes expressed with the extreme of severity, as in +the lay of the death of Ermanaric; sometimes with lyrical +effusiveness, as in the lament of Gudrun; sometimes with a mystery +upon it from the under-world and the kingdom of the dead, as in the +poems of Helgi, and of the daughter of Angantyr. + +The poem of the death of Ermanaric is a version of the story told by +Jordanes, which since his time had come to be attached to the cycle of +the Niblungs. + +Swanhild, the daughter of Sigurd and Gudrun, was wedded to Ermanaric, +king of the Goths. The king's counsellor wrought on his mind with +calumnies against the queen, and he ordered her to be trampled to +death under horses' feet, and so she died, though the horses were +afraid of the brightness of her eyes and held back until her eyes were +covered. Gudrun stirred up her sons, Sorli and Hamther, to go and +avenge their sister. As they set out, they quarrelled with their +base-born brother Erp, and killed him,--the tragic error in this +history, for it was the want of a third man that ruined them, and Erp +would have helped them if they had let him. In the hall of the Goths +they defy their enemy and hew down his men; no iron will bite in their +armour; they cut off the hands and feet of Ermanaric. Then, as happens +so often in old stories, they go too far, and a last insult alters the +balance against them, as Odysseus alters it at the leave-taking with +Polyphemus. The last gibe at Ermanaric stirs him as he lies, and he +calls on the remnant of the Goths to stone the men that neither sword +nor spear nor arrow will bring down. And that was the end of them. + + "We have fought a good fight; we stand on slain Goths that + have had their fill of war. We have gotten a good report, + though we die to-day or to-morrow. No man can live over the + evening, when the word of the Fates has gone forth." + + There fell Sorli at the gable of the hall, and Hamther was + brought low at the end of the house. + +Among the Norse poems it is this one, the _Hamđismál_, that comes +nearest to the severity of the English _Maldon_ poem. It is wilder and +more cruel, but the end attains to simplicity. + +The gap in _Codex Regius_, the "Elder" or "Poetic Edda," has destroyed +the poems midway between the beginning and end of the tragedy of +Sigfred and Brynhild, and among them the poem of their last meeting. +There is nothing but the prose paraphrase to tell what that was, but +the poor substitute brings out all the more clearly the strength of +the original conception, the tragic problem. + +After the gap in the manuscript there are various poems of Brynhild +and Gudrun, in which different views of the story are taken, and in +all of them the tragic contradiction is extreme: in Brynhild's +vengeance on Sigurd, in Gudrun's lament for her husband slain by her +brothers, and in the later fortunes of Gudrun. In some of these poems +the tragedy becomes lyrical, and two kinds of imagination, epic and +elegiac, are found in harmony. + +The story of Helgi and Sigrun displays this rivalry of moods--a tragic +story, carried beyond the tragic stress into the mournful quiet of the +shadows. + +Helgi is called upon by Sigrun to help her against Hodbrodd, and save +her from a hateful marriage. Helgi kills Hodbrodd, and wins Sigrun; +but he has also killed Sigrun's father Hogni and her elder brother. +The younger brother Dag takes an oath to put away enmity, but breaks +his oath and kills Helgi. + +It is a story like all the others in which there is a conflict of +duties, between friendship and the duty of vengeance, a plot of the +same kind as that of Froda and Ingeld. Sigrun's brother is tried in +the same way as Ingeld in the story told by Saxo and mentioned in +_Beowulf_. But it does not end with the death of Helgi. Sigrun looks +for Helgi to come back in the hour of the "Assembly of Dreams," and +Helgi comes and calls her, and she follows him:-- + + "Thy hair is thick with rime, thou art wet with the dew of + death, thy hands are cold and dank." + + "It is thine own doing, Sigrun from Sevafell, that Helgi is + drenched with deadly dew; thou weepest cruel tears, thou + gold-dight, sunbright lady of the South, before thou goest + to sleep; every one of them falls with blood, wet and chill, + upon my breast. Yet precious are the draughts that are + poured for us, though we have lost both love and land, and + no man shall sing a song of lamentation though he see the + wounds on my breast, for kings' daughters have come among + the dead." + + "I have made thee a bed, Helgi, a painless bed, thou son of + the Wolfings. I shall sleep in thine arms, O king, as I + should if thou wert alive." + +This is something different from epic or tragedy, but it does not +interfere with the tragedy of which it is the end. + +The poem of the _Waking of Angantyr_ is so filled with mystery and +terror that it is hard to find in it anything else. After the +_Volospá_ it is the most wonderful of all the Northern poems. + +Hervor, daughter of Angantyr, is left alone to avenge her father and +her eleven brothers, killed by Arrow Odd before her birth. In her +father's grave is the sword of the Dwarfs that never is drawn in vain, +and she comes to his grave to find it. The island where he lies is +full of death-fires, and the dead are astir, but Hervor goes on. She +calls on her father and her brothers to help her: + + "Awake, Angantyr! It is Hervor that bids thee awake. Give me + the sword of the Dwarfs! Hervard! Hiorvard! Rani! Angantyr! + I bid you all awake!" + +Her father answers from the grave; he will not give up the sword, for +the forgers of it when it was taken from them put a curse on those who +wear it. But Hervor will not leave him until he has yielded to her +prayers, and at last she receives the sword from her father's +hands.[17] + +[Footnote 17: This poem has been followed by M. Leconte de Lisle in +_L'Épée d'Angantyr (Počmes Barbares)_. It was among the first of the +Northern poems to be translated into English, in Hickes's _Thesaurus_ +(1705), i. p. 193. It is also included in Percy's _Five Pieces of +Runic Poetry_ (1763).] + +Although the poem of Hervor lies in this way "between the worlds" of +Life and Death,--the phrase is Hervor's own,--although the action is +so strange and so strangely encompassed with unearthly fire and +darkness, its root is not set in the dim borderland where the dialogue +is carried on. The root is tragic, and not fantastic, nor is there any +excess, nor anything strained beyond the limit of tragedy, in the +passion of Hervor. + +Definite imagination of a tragic plot, and sure comprehension of the +value of dramatic problems, are not enough in themselves to make a +perfect poem. They may go along with various degrees of imperfection +in particular respects; faults of diction, either tenuity or +extravagance of phrasing may accompany this central imaginative power. +Strength of plot is partly independent of style; it bears translation, +it can be explained, it is something that can be abstracted from the +body of a poem and still make itself impressive. The dramatic value of +the story of the death of Alboin is recognisable even when it is +stated in the most general terms, as a mere formula; the story of +_Waltharius_ retains its life, even in the Latin hexameters; the plot +of _Hamlet_ is interesting, even in Saxo; the story of the Niblungs, +even in the mechanical prose paraphrase. This gift of shaping a plot +and letting it explain itself without encumbrances is not to be +mistaken for the whole secret of the highest kind of poetry. But, if +not the whole, it is the spring of the whole. All the other gifts may +be there, but without this, though all but the highest kind of epic or +tragic art may be attainable, the very highest will not be attained. + +Aristotle may be referred to again. As he found it convenient in his +description of epic to insist on its dramatic nature, in his +description of tragedy it pleased him to lay emphasis on that part of +the work which is common to tragedy and epic--the story, the plot. It +may be remarked how well the barbarous poetry conforms to the pattern +laid down in Aristotle's description. The old German epic, in +_Hildebrand_, _Waldere_, _Finnesburh_, _Byrhtnoth_, besides all the +Northern lays of Sigurd, Brynhild, and Gudrun, is dramatic in its +method, letting the persons speak for themselves as much as may be. So +far it complies with Aristotle's delineation of epic. And further, all +this dramatic bent may be seen clearly to have its origin in the mere +story,--in the dramatic situation, in fables that might be acted by +puppets or in a dumb show, and yet be tragical. No analytic or +psychological interest in varieties of character--in [Greek: +ęthę]--could have uttered the passion of Brynhild or of Gudrun. +Aristotle knew that psychological analysis and moral rhetoric were not +the authors of Clytemnestra or Oedipus. The barbarian poets are on a +much lower and more archaic level than the poets with whom Aristotle +is concerned, but here, where comparison is not meaningless nor +valueless, their imaginations are seen to work in the same sound and +productive way as the minds of Aeschylus or Sophocles, letting the +seed--the story in its abstract form, the mere plot--develop itself +and spring naturally into the fuller presentation of the characters +that are implied in it. It is another kind of art that studies +character in detail, one by one, and then sets them playing at chance +medley, and trusts to luck that the result will be entertaining. + +That Aristotle is confirmed by these barbarian auxiliaries is of no +great importance to Aristotle, but it is worth arguing that the +barbarous German imagination at an earlier stage, relatively, than the +Homeric, is found already possessed of something like the sanity of +judgment, the discrimination of essentials from accidents, which is +commonly indicated by the term classical. Compared with Homer these +German songs are prentice work; but they are begun in the right way, +and therefore to compare them with a masterpiece in which the same way +is carried out to its end is not unjustifiable. + + +II + +SCALE OF THE POEMS + +The following are the extant poems on native heroic themes, written in +one or other of the dialects of the Teutonic group, and in unrhymed +alliterative measures. + +(1) _Continental._--The _Lay of Hildebrand_ (_c._ A.D. 800), a Low +German poem, copied by High German clerks, is the only remnant of the +heroic poetry of the continental Germans in which, together with the +national metre, there is a national theme. + +(2) _English._--The poems of this order in old English are _Beowulf_, +_Finnesburh_, _Waldere_, and _Byrhtnoth_, or the _Lay of Maldon_. +Besides these there are poems on historical themes preserved in the +Chronicle, of which _Brunanburh_ is the most important, and two +dramatic lyrics, _Widsith_ and _Deor_, in which there are many +allusions to the mythical and heroic cycles. + +(3) _Scandinavian and Icelandic._--The largest number of heroic poems +in alliterative verse is found in the old Northern language, and in +manuscripts written in Iceland. The poems themselves may have come +from other places in which the old language of Norway was spoken, some +of them perhaps from Norway itself, many of them probably from those +islands round Britain to which a multitude of Norwegian settlers were +attracted,--Shetland, the Orkneys, the Western Islands of +Scotland.[18] + +[Footnote 18: Cf. G. Vigfusson, Prolegomena to _Sturlunga_ (Oxford, +1878); (_Corpus Poeticum Boreale_ (_ibid._ 1883); _Grimm Centenary +Papers_ 1886); Sophus Bugge, _Helgedigtene_ (1896; trans. Schofield, +1899).] + +The principal collection is that of the manuscript in the King's +Library at Copenhagen (2365, 4'o) generally referred to as _Codex +Regius_ (R); it is this book, discovered in the seventeenth century, +that has received the inaccurate but convenient names of _Elder Edda_, +or _Poetic Edda_, or _Edda of Sćmund the Wise_, by a series of +miscalculations fully described in the preface to the _Corpus Poeticum +Boreale_. Properly, the name _Edda_ belongs only to the prose treatise +by Snorri Sturluson. + +The chief contents of _Codex Regius_ are a series of independent poems +on the Volsung story, beginning with the tragedies of _Helgi and +Swava_ and _Helgi and Sigrun_ (originally unconnected with the Volsung +legend), and going on in the order of events. + +The series is broken by a gap in which the poems dealing with some of +the most important parts of the story have been lost. The matter of +their contents is known from the prose paraphrase called _Volsunga +Saga_. Before the Volsung series comes a number of poems chiefly +mythological: the _Sibyl's Prophecy_, (Volospá); _the Wooing of Frey_, +or the _Errand of Skirnir_; the _Flyting of Thor and Woden_ +(Harbarzlióđ); _Thor's Fishing for the Midgarth Serpent_ (Hymiskviđa); +the _Railing of Loki_ (Lokasenna); the _Winning of Thor's Hammer_ +(Ţrymskviđa); the _Lay of Weland_. There are also some didactic poems, +chief among them being the gnomic miscellany under the title +_Hávamál_; while besides this there are others, like _Vafţrúđnismál_, +treating of mythical subjects in a more or less didactic and +mechanical way. There are a number of prose passages introducing or +linking the poems. The confusion in some parts of the book is great. + +_Codex Regius_ is not the only source; other mythic and heroic poems +are found in other manuscripts. The famous poem of the _Doom of +Balder_ (Gray's "Descent of Odin"); the poem of the _Rescue of +Menglad_, the enchanted princess; the verses preserved in the +_Heiđreks Saga_, belonging to the story of Angantyr; besides the poem +of the _Magic Mill_ (Grottasöngr) and the _Song of the Dart_ (Gray's +"Fatal Sisters"). There are many fragmentary verses, among them some +from the _Biarkamál_, a poem with some curious points of likeness to +the English _Lay of Finnesburh_. A Swedish inscription has preserved +four verses of an old poem on Theodoric. + +Thus there is some variety in the original documents now extant out of +the host of poems that have been lost. One conclusion at least is +irresistible--that, in guessing at the amount of epic poetry of this +order which has been lost, one is justified in making a liberal +estimate. Fragments are all that we possess. The extant poems have +escaped the deadliest risks; the fire at Copenhagen in 1728, the +bombardment in 1807, the fire in the Cotton Library in 1731, in which +_Beowulf_ was scorched but not burned. The manuscripts of _Finnesburh_ +and _Maldon_ have been mislaid; but for the transcripts taken in time +by Hickes and Hearne they would have been as little known as the songs +that the Sirens sang. The poor remnants of _Waldere_ were found by +Stephens in two scraps of bookbinders' parchment. + +When it is seen what hazards have been escaped by those bits of +wreckage, and at the same time how distinct in character the several +poems are, it is plain that one may use some freedom in thinking of +the amount of this old poetry that has perished. + +The loss is partly made good in different ways: in the Latin of the +historians, Jordanes, Paulus Diaconus, and most of all in the +paraphrases, prose and verse, by Saxo Grammaticus; in Ekkehard's Latin +poem of _Waltharius_ (_c._ A.D. 930); in the _Volsunga Saga_, which +has kept the matter of the lost poems of _Codex Regius_ and something +of their spirit; in the _Thidreks Saga_, a prose story made up by a +Norwegian in the thirteenth century from current North German ballads +of the Niblungs; in the German poems of the twelfth and thirteenth +centuries, which, in a later form of the language and in rhyming +verse, have preserved at any rate some matters of tradition, some +plots of stories, if little of the peculiar manner and imagination of +the older poetry. + +The casual references to Teutonic heroic subjects in a vast number of +authors have been brought together in a monumental work, _die deutsche +Heldensage_, by Wilhelm Grimm (1829). + + +THE WESTERN GROUP + +_Hildebrand_, _Finnesburh_, _Waldere_, _Beowulf_, _Byrhtnoth_ + +The Western group of poems includes all those that are not +Scandinavian; there is only one among them which is not English, the +poem of _Hildebrand_. They do not afford any very copious material for +inferences as to the whole course and progress of poetry in the +regions to which they belong. A comparison of the fragmentary +_Hildebrand_ with the fragments of _Waldere_ shows a remarkable +difference in compass and fulness; but, at the same time, the +vocabulary and phrases of _Hildebrand_ declare that poem unmistakably +to belong to the same family as the more elaborate _Waldere_. +_Finnesburh_, the fragmentary poem of the lost Lambeth MS., seems +almost as far removed as _Hildebrand_ from the more expansive and +leisurely method of _Waldere_; while _Waldere_, _Beowulf_, and the +poem of _Maldon_ resemble one another in their greater ease and +fluency, as compared with the brevity and abruptness of _Hildebrand_ +or _Finnesburh_. The documents, as far as they go, bear out the view +that in the Western German tongues, or at any rate in England, there +was a development of heroic poetry tending to a greater amplitude of +narration. This progress falls a long way short of the fulness of +Homer, not to speak of the extreme diffuseness of some of the French +_Chansons de Geste_. It is such, however, as to distinguish the +English poems, _Waldere_, _Beowulf_, and _Byrhtnoth_, very obviously +from the poem of _Hildebrand_. While, at the same time, the brevity of +_Hildebrand_ is not like the brevity of the Northern poems. +_Hildebrand_ is a poem capable of expansion. It is easy enough to see +in what manner its outlines might be filled up and brought into the +proportions of _Waldere_ or _Beowulf_. In the Northern poems, on the +other hand, there is a lyrical conciseness, and a broken emphatic +manner of exposition, which from first to last prevented any such +increase of volume as seems to have taken place in the old English +poetry; though there are some poems, the _Atlamál_ particularly, which +indicate that some of the Northern poets wished to go to work on a +larger scale than was generally allowed them by their traditions. + +In the Northern group there is a great variety in respect of the +amount of incident that goes to a single poem; some poems deal with a +single adventure, while others give an abstract of a whole heroic +history. In the Western poems this variety is not to be found. There +is a difference in this respect between _Hildebrand_ and _Waldere_, +and still more, at least on the surface, between _Hildebrand_ and +_Beowulf_; but nothing like the difference between the _Lay of the +Hammer_ (Ţrymskviđa), which is an episode of Thor, and the _Lay of +Weland_ or the _Lay of Brynhild_, which give in a summary way a whole +history from beginning to end. + +_Hildebrand_ tells of the encounter of father and son, Hildebrand and +Hadubrand, with a few references to the past of Hildebrand and his +relations to Odoacer and Theodoric. It is one adventure, a tragedy in +one scene. + +_Finnesburh_, being incomplete at the beginning and end, is not good +evidence. What remains of it presents a single adventure, the fight in +the hall between Danes and Frisians. There is another version of the +story of _Finnesburh_, which, as reported in _Beowulf_ (ll. 1068-1154) +gives a good deal more of the story than is given in the separate +_Finnesburh Lay_. This episode in _Beowulf_, where a poem of +_Finnesburh_ is chanted by the Danish minstrel, is not to be taken as +contributing another independent poem to the scanty stock; the +minstrel's story is reported, not quoted at full length. It has been +reduced by the poet of _Beowulf_, so as not to take up too large a +place of its own in the composition. Such as it is, it may very well +count as direct evidence of the way in which epic poems were produced +and set before an audience; and it may prove that it was possible for +an old English epic to deal with almost the whole of a tragic history +in one sitting. In this case the tragedy is far less complex than the +tale of the Niblungs, whatever interpretation may be given to the +obscure allusions in which it is preserved. + +Finn, son of Folcwalda, king of the Frisians, entertained Hnćf the +Dane, along with the Danish warriors, in the castle of Finnesburh. +There, for reasons of his own, he attacked the Danes; who kept the +hall against him, losing their own leader Hnćf, but making a great +slaughter of the Frisians. + +The _Beowulf_ episode takes up the story at this point. + +Hnćf was slain in the place of blood. His sister Hildeburg, Finn's +wife, had to mourn for brother and son. + +Hengest succeeded Hnćf in command of the Danes and still kept the hall +against the Frisians. Finn was compelled to make terms with the Danes. +Hengest and his men were to live among the Frisians with a place of +their own, and share alike with Finn's household in all the gifts of +the king. Finn bound himself by an oath that Hengest and his men +should be free of blame and reproach, and that he would hold any +Frisian guilty who should cast it up against the Danes that they had +followed their lord's slayer.[19] Then, after the oaths, was held the +funeral of the Danish and the Frisian prince, brother and son of +Hildeburg the queen. + +[Footnote 19: Compare _Cynewulf and Cyneheard_ in the Chronicle (A.D. +755); also the outbreak of enmity, through recollection of old wrongs, +in the stories of Alboin, and of the vengeance for Froda (_supra_, pp. +68-70).] + +Then they went home to Friesland, where Hengest stayed with Finn +through the winter. With the spring he set out, meaning vengeance; but +he dissembled and rendered homage, and accepted the sword the lord +gives his liegeman. Death came upon Finn in his house; for the Danes +came back and slew him, and the hall was made red with the Frisian +blood. The Danes took Hildeburg and the treasure of Finn and carried +the queen and the treasure to Denmark. + +The whole story, with the exception of the original grievance or +grudge of the Frisian king, which is not explained, and the first +battle, which is taken as understood, is given in _Beowulf_ as the +contents of one poem, delivered in one evening by a harper. It is more +complicated than the story of _Hildebrand_, more even than _Waldere_; +and more than either of the two chief sections of _Beowulf_ taken +singly--"Beowulf in Denmark" and the "Fight with the Dragon." It is +far less than the plot of the long _Lay of Brynhild_, in which the +whole Niblung history is contained. In its distribution of the action, +it corresponds very closely to the story of the death of the Niblungs +as given by the _Atlakviđa_ and the _Atlamál_. The discrepancies +between these latter poems need not be taken into account here. In +each of them and in the _Finnesburh_ story there is a double climax; +first the wrong, then the vengeance. _Finnesburh_ might also be +compared, as far as the arrangement goes, with the _Song of Roland_; +the first part gives the treacherous attack and the death of the hero; +then comes a pause between the two centres of interest, followed in +the second part by expiation of the wrong. + +The story of _Finnesburh_ is obscure in many respects; the tradition +of it has failed to preserve the motive for Finn's attack on his +wife's brother, without which the story loses half its value. +Something remains, nevertheless, and it is possible to recognise in +this episode a greater regard for unity and symmetry of narrative than +is to be found in _Beowulf_ taken as a whole. + +The Lambeth poem of _Finnesburh_ most probably confined itself to the +battle in the hall. There is no absolute proof of this, apart from the +intensity of its tone, in the extant fragment, which would agree best +with a short story limited, like _Hildebrand_, to one adventure. It +has all the appearance of a short lay, a single episode. Such a poem +might end with the truce of Finn and Hengest, and an anticipation of +the Danes' vengeance: + + It is marvel an the red blood run not, as the rain does in + the street. + +Yet the stress of this adventure is not greater than that of Roland, +which does not end at Roncesvalles; it may be that the _Finnesburh_ +poem went on to some of the later events, as told in the _Finnesburh_ +abridgment in _Beowulf_. + +The story of Walter of Aquitaine as represented by the two fragments +of old English verse is not greatly inconsistent with the same story +in its Latin form of _Waltharius_. The Latin verses of _Waltharius_ +tell the story of the flight of Walter and Hildegund from the house of +Attila, and of the treacherous attack on Walter by Gunther, king of +the Franks, against the advice, but with the unwilling consent, of +Hagen, his liegeman and Walter's friend. Hagen, Hildegund, and Walter +were hostages with Attila from the Franks, Burgundians, and +Aquitanians. They grew up together at the Court of Attila till +Gunther, son of Gibicho, became king of the Franks and refused tribute +to the Huns. Then Hagen escaped and went home. Walter and Hildegund +were lovers, and they, too, thought of flight, and escaped into the +forests, westward, with a great load of treasure, and some fowling and +fishing gear for the journey. + +After they had crossed the Rhine, they were discovered by Hagen; and +Gunther, with twelve of the Franks, went after them to take the +Hunnish treasure: Hagen followed reluctantly. The pursuers came up +with Walter as he was asleep in a hold among the hills, a narrow green +place with overhanging cliffs all round, and a narrow path leading up +to it. Hildegund awakened Walter, and he went and looked down at his +adversaries. Walter offered terms, through the mediation of Hagen, but +Gunther would have none of them, and the fight began. The Latin poem +describes with great spirit how one after another the Franks went up +against Walter: Camelo (ll. 664-685), Scaramundus (686-724), +Werinhardus the bowman (725-755), Ekevrid the Saxon (756-780), who +went out jeering at Walter; Hadavartus (781-845), Patavrid (846-913), +Hagen's sister's son, whose story is embellished with a diatribe on +avarice; Gerwicus (914-940), fighting to avenge his companions and +restore their honour-- + + Is furit ut caesos mundet vindicta sodales; + +but he, too, fell-- + + Exitiumque dolens, pulsabat calcibus arvum. + +Then there was a breathing-space, before Randolf, the eighth of them, +made trial of Walter's defence (962-981). After him came Eleuther, +whose other name was Helmnod, with a harpoon and a line, and the line +was held by Trogus, Tanastus, and the king; Hagen still keeping aloof, +though he had seen his nephew killed. The harpoon failed; three +Frankish warriors were added to the slain; the king and Hagen were +left (l. 1060). + +Gunther tried to draw Hagen into the fight. Hagen refused at first, +but gave way at last, on account of the slaying of his nephew. He +advised a retreat for the night, and an attack on Walter when he +should have left the fastness. And so the day ended. + +Walter and Hildegund took turns to watch, Hildegund singing to awaken +Walter when his turn came. They left their hold in the morning; but +they had not gone a mile when Hildegund, looking behind, saw two men +coming down a hill after them. These were Gunther and Hagen, and they +had come for Walter's life. Walter sent Hildegund with the horse and +its burden into the wood for safety, while he took his stand on rising +ground. Gunther jeered at him as he came up; Walter made no answer to +him, but reproached Hagen, his old friend. Hagen defended himself by +reason of the vengeance due for his nephew; and so they fought, with +more words of scorn. Hagen lost his eye, and Gunther his leg, and +Walter's right hand was cut off by Hagen; and "this was their sharing +of the rings of Attila!"-- + + Sic, sic, armillas partiti sunt Avarenses (l. 1404). + +Walter and Hildegund were king and queen of Aquitaine, but of his +later wars and victories the tale has no more to tell. + +Of the two old English fragments of this story the first contains part +of a speech of Hildegund[20] encouraging Walter. + +[Footnote 20: Hildegyth, her English name, is unfortunately not +preserved in either of the fragmentary leaves. It is found (Hildigiđ) +in the _Liber Vitae_ (Sweet, _Oldest English Texts_, p. 155).] + +Its place appears to be in the pause of the fight, when the Frankish +champions have been killed, and Gunther and Hagen are alone. The +speech is rhetorical: "Thou hast the sword Mimming, the work of +Weland, that fails not them that wield it. Be of good courage, captain +of Attila; never didst thou draw back to thy hold for all the strokes +of the foeman; nay, my heart was afraid because of thy rashness. Thou +shalt break the boast of Gunther; he came on without a cause, he +refused the offered gifts; he shall return home empty-handed, if he +return at all." That is the purport of it. + +The second fragment is a debate between Gunther and Walter. It begins +with the close of a speech of Gunther (Guđhere) in which there are +allusions to other parts of the heroic cycle, such as are common in +_Beowulf_. + +The allusion here is to one of the adventures of Widia, Weland's son; +how he delivered Theodoric from captivity, and of Theodoric's +gratitude. The connexion is obscure, but the reference is of great +value as proving the resemblance of narrative method in _Waldere_ and +_Beowulf_, not to speak of the likeness to the Homeric way of quoting +old stories. Waldere answers, and this is the substance of his +argument: "Lo, now, Lord of the Burgundians, it was thy thought that +Hagena's hand should end my fighting. Come then and win my corselet, +my father's heirloom, from the shoulders weary of war."[21] + +[Footnote 21: The resemblance to Hildebrand, l. 58, is pointed out by +Sophus Bugge: "Doh maht du nu aodlihho, ibu dir din ellen taoc, In sus +heremo man hrusti giwinnan." (Hildebrand speaks): "Easily now mayest +thou win the spoils of so old a man, if thy strength avail thee." It +is remarkable as evidence of the strong conventional character of the +Teutonic poetry, and of the community of the different nations in the +poetical convention, that two short passages like _Hildebrand_ and +_Waldere_ should present so many points of likeness to other poems, in +details of style. Thus the two lines quoted from _Hildebrand_ as a +parallel to _Waldere_ contain also the equivalent of the Anglo-Saxon +phrase, _Ţonne his ellen deah_, a familiar part of the Teutonic +_Gradus_.] + +The fragment closes with a pious utterance of submission to heaven, by +which the poem is shown to be of the same order as _Beowulf_ in this +respect also, as well as others, that it is affected by a turn for +edification, and cannot stand as anything like a pure example of the +older kind of heroic poetry. The phrasing here is that of the +Anglo-Saxon secondary poems; the common religious phrasing that came +into vogue and supplemented the old heathen poetical catch-words. + +The style of _Waldere_ makes it probable that the action of the story +was not hurried unduly. If the author kept the same proportion +throughout, his poem may have been almost as long as _Waltharius_. It +is probable that the fight among the rocks was described in detail; +the _Maldon_ poem may show how such a subject could be managed in old +English verse, and how the matter of _Waltharius_ may have been +expressed in _Waldere_. Roughly speaking, there is about as much +fighting in the three hundred and twenty-five lines of _Maldon_ as in +double the number of hexameters in _Waltharius_; but the _Maldon_ poem +is more concise than the extant fragments of _Waldere_. _Waldere_ may +easily have taken up more than a thousand lines. + +The Latin and the English poems are not in absolute agreement. The +English poet knew that Guđhere, Guntharius, was Burgundian, not Frank; +and an expression in the speech of Hildegyth suggests that the fight +in the narrow pass was not so exact a succession of single combats as +in _Waltharius_. + +The poem of _Maldon_ is more nearly related in its style to _Waldere_ +and _Beowulf_ than to the _Finnesburh_ fragment. The story of the +battle has considerable likeness to the story of the fight at +Finnesburh. The details, however, are given in a fuller and more +capable way, at greater length. + +_Beowulf_ has been commonly regarded as exceptional, on account of its +length and complexity, among the remains of the old Teutonic poetry. +This view is hardly consistent with a right reading of _Waldere_, or +of _Maldon_ either, for that matter. It is not easy to make any great +distinction between _Beowulf_ and _Waldere_ in respect of the +proportions of the story. The main action of _Beowulf_ is comparable +in extent with the action of _Waltharius_. The later adventure of +_Beowulf_ has the character of a sequel, which extends the poem, to +the detriment of its proportions, but without adding any new element +of complexity to the epic form. Almost all the points in which the +manner of _Beowulf_ differs from that of _Finnesburh_ may be found in +_Waldere_ also, and are common to _Waldere_ and _Beowulf_ in +distinction from _Hildebrand_ and _Finnesburh_. The two poems, the +poem of _Beowulf_ and the fragments of _Waldere_, seem to be alike in +the proportion they allow to dramatic argument, and in their manner of +alluding to heroic matters outside of their own proper stories, not to +speak of their affinities of ethical tone and sentiment. + +The time of the whole action of _Beowulf_ is long. The poem, however, +falls naturally into two main divisions--_Beowulf in Denmark_, and the +_Death of Beowulf_. If it is permissible to consider these for the +present as two separate stories, then it may be affirmed that in none +of the stories preserved in the old poetic form of England and the +German Continent is there any great length or complexity. +_Hildebrand_, a combat; _Finnesburh_, a defence of a house; _Waldere_, +a champion beset by his enemies; _Beowulf in Denmark_, the hero as a +deliverer from pests; _Beowulf's Death_ in one action; _Maldon_ the +last battle of an English captain; these are the themes, and they are +all simple. There is more complexity in the story of _Finnesburh_, as +reported in _Beowulf_, than in all the rest; but even that story +appears to have observed as much as possible the unity of action. The +epic singer at the court of the Dane appears to have begun, not with +the narrative of the first contest, but immediately after that, +assuming that part of the story as known, in order to concentrate +attention on the vengeance, on the penalty exacted from Finn the +Frisian for his treachery to his guests. + +Some of the themes may have less in them than others, but there is no +such variety of scale among them as will be found in the Northern +poems. There seems to be a general agreement of taste among the +Western German poets and audiences, English and Saxon, as to the right +compass of an heroic lay. When the subject was a foreign one, as in +the _Hęliand_, in the poems of _Genesis_ and _Exodus_, in _Andreas_, +or _Elene_, there might be room for the complexity and variety of the +foreign model. The poem of _Judith_ may be considered as a happy +instance in which the foreign document has of itself, by a +pre-established harmony, conformed to an old German fashion. In the +original story of _Judith_ the unities are observed in the very degree +that was suited to the ways of the Anglo-Saxon poetry. It is hazardous +to speak generally of a body of poetry so imperfectly represented in +extant literature, but it is at any rate permissible to say that the +extant heroic poems, saved out of the wreck of the Western Teutonic +poetry, show a strong regard for unity of action, in every case except +that of _Beowulf_; while in that case there are two stories--a story +and a sequel--each observing a unity within its own limit. + +Considered apart from the Northern poems, the poems of England and +Germany give indication of a progress in style from a more archaic and +repressed, to a more developed and more prolix kind of narrative. The +difference is considerable between _Hildebrand_ and _Waldere_, +between _Finnesburh_ and _Beowulf_. + +It is the change and development in style, rather than any increase in +the complexity of the themes, that accounts for the difference in +scale between the shorter and the longer poems. + +For the natural history of poetical forms this point is of the highest +importance. The Teutonic poetry shows that epic may be developed out +of short lays through a gradual increase of ambition and of eloquence +in the poets who deal with common themes. There is no question here of +the process of agglutination and contamination whereby a number of +short lays are supposed to be compounded into an epic poem. Of that +process it may be possible to find traces in _Beowulf_ and elsewhere. +But quite apart from that, there is the process by which an archaic +stiff manner is replaced by greater freedom, without any loss of unity +in the plot. The story of Walter of Aquitaine is as simple as the +story of Hildebrand. The difference between _Hildebrand_ and _Waldere_ +is the difference between an archaic and an accomplished mode of +narrative, and this difference is made by a change in spirit and +imagination, not by a process of agglutination. To make the epic of +_Waldere_ it was not necessary to cobble together a number of older +lays on separate episodes. It was possible to keep the original plan +of the old story in its simplest irreducible form, and still give it +the force and magnificence of a lofty and eloquent style. It was for +the attainment of this pitch of style that the heroic poetry laboured +in _Waldere_ and _Beowulf_, with at least enough success to make these +poems distinct from the rest in this group. + +With all the differences among them, the continental and English +poems, _Hildebrand_, _Waldere_, and the rest, form a group by +themselves, with certain specific qualities of style distinguishing +them from the Scandinavian heroic poetry. The history of the +Scandinavian poetry is the converse of the English development. Epic +poetry in the North becomes more and more hopeless as time goes on, +and with some exceptions tends further and further away from the +original type which was common to all the Germans, and from which +those common forms and phrases have been derived that are found in the +"Poetic Edda" as well as in _Beowulf_ or the _Hęliand_. + +In England before the old poetry died out altogether there was +attained a certain magnitude and fulness of narrative by which the +English poems are distinguished, and in virtue of which they may claim +the title _epic_ in no transferred or distorted sense of the term. In +the North a different course is taken. There seems indeed, in the +_Atlamál_ especially, a poem of exceptional compass and weight among +those of the North, to have been something like the Western desire for +a larger scale of narrative poem. But the rhetorical expansion of the +older forms into an equable and deliberate narrative was counteracted +by the still stronger affection for lyrical modes of speech, for +impassioned, abrupt, and heightened utterance. No epic solidity or +composure could be obtained in the fiery Northern verse; the poets +could not bring themselves into the frame of mind required for long +recitals; they had no patience for the intervals necessary, in epic as +in dramatic poetry, between the critical moments. They would have +everything equally full of energy, everything must be emphatic and +telling. But with all this, the Northern heroic poems are in some of +their elements strongly allied to the more equable and duller poems +of the West; there is a strong element of epic in their lyrical +dialogues and monologues, and in their composition and arrangement of +plots. + + +THE NORTHERN GROUP + +In comparing the English and the Northern poems, it should be borne in +mind that the documents of the Northern poetry are hardly sufficient +evidence of the condition of Northern epic at its best. The English +documents are fragmentary, indeed, but at least they belong to a time +in which the heroic poetry was attractive and well appreciated; as is +proved by the wonderful freshness of the _Maldon_ poem, late though it +is. The Northern poems seem to have lost their vogue and freshness +before they came to be collected and written down. They were +imperfectly remembered and reported; the text of them is broken and +confused, and the gaps are made up with prose explanations. The +fortunate preservation of a second copy of _Volospá_, in Hauk's book, +has further multiplied labours and perplexities by a palpable +demonstration of the vanity of copiers, and of the casual way in which +the strophes of a poem might be shuffled at random in different texts; +while the chief manuscript of the poems itself has in some cases +double and incongruous versions of the same passage.[22] + +[Footnote 22: Cf. _C.P.B._, i. p. 375, for double versions of part of +_Hamđismál_, and of the _Lay of Helgi_. On pp. 377-379, parts of the +two texts of _Volospá_--R and H--are printed side by side for +comparison.] + +The _Codex Regius_ contains a number of poems that can only be called +_epic_ in the widest and loosest sense of the term, and some that are +not _epic_ in any sense at all. The gnomic verses, the mythological +summaries, may be passed over for the present; whatever illustrations +they afford of early beliefs and ideas, they have no evidence to give +concerning the proportions of stories. Other poems in the collection +come under the denomination of epic only by a rather liberal extension +of the term to include poems which are no more epic than dramatic, and +just as much the one as the other, like the poems of _Frey's Wooing_ +and of the earlier exploits of Sigurd, which tell their story +altogether by means of dialogue, without any narrative passages at +all. The links and explanations are supplied, in prose, in the +manuscript. Further, among the poems which come nearer to the English +form of narrative poetry there is the very greatest variety of scale. +The amount of story told in the Northern poems may vary indefinitely +within the widest limits. Some poems contain little more than an idyll +of a single scene; others may give an abstract of a whole history, as +the whole Volsung story is summarised, for instance, in the _Prophecy +of Gripir_. + +Some of the poems are found in such a confused and fragmentary form, +with interruptions and interpolations, that, although it is possible +to make out the story, it is hardly possible to give any confident +judgment about the original proportions of the poems. This is +particularly the case with the poems in which the hero bears the name +of Helgi. The difficulties of these were partly appreciated, but not +solved, by the original editor. + +The differences of scale may be illustrated by the following summary +description, which aims at little more than a rough measurement of the +stories, for purposes of comparison with _Beowulf_ and _Waldere_. + +The _Lay of Weland_ gives a whole mythical history. How Weland and his +brother met with the swan-maidens, how the swan-brides left them in +the ninth year, how Weland Smith was taken prisoner by King Nidad, and +hamstrung, and set to work for the king; and of the vengeance of +Weland. There are one hundred and fifty-nine lines, but in the text +there are many defective places. The _Lay_ is a ballad history, +beginning at the beginning, and ending, not with the end of the life +of Weland, nor with the adventures of his son Widia, but with the +escape of Weland from the king, his enemy, after he had killed the +king's sons and put shame on the king's daughter Bodvild. + +In plan, the _Lay of Weland_ is quite different from the lays of the +adventures of Thor, the _Ţrymskviđa_ and the _Hymiskviđa_, the songs +of the Hammer and the Cauldron. These are chapters, episodes, in the +history of Thor, not summaries of the whole matter, such as is the +poem of _Weland_. + +The stories of Helgi Hundingsbane, and of his namesakes, as has been +already remarked, are given in a more than usually complicated and +tangled form. + +At first everything is simple enough. A poem of the life of Helgi +begins in a way that promises a mode of narrative fuller and less +abrupt than the _Lay of Weland_. It tells of the birth of Helgi, son +of Sigmund; of the coming of the Norns to make fast the threads of his +destiny; of the gladness and the good hopes with which his birth was +welcomed. Then the _Lay of Helgi_ tells, very briefly, how he slew +King Hunding, how the sons of Hunding made claims for recompense. "But +the prince would make no payment of amends; he bade them look for no +payment, but for the strong storm, for the grey spears, and for the +rage of Odin."[23] And the sons of Hunding were slain as their father +had been. + +[Footnote 23: Cf. _Maldon_, l. 45 _sq._, "Hearest thou what this +people answer? They will pay you, for tribute, spears, the deadly +point, the old swords, the weapons of war that profit you not," etc.] + +Then the main interest begins, the story of Helgi and Sigrun. + +"A light shone forth from the Mountains of Flame, and lightnings +followed." There appeared to Helgi, in the air, a company of armed +maidens riding across the field of heaven; "their armour was stained +with blood, and light went forth from their spears." Sigrun from among +the other "ladies of the South" answered Helgi, and called on him for +help; her father Hogni had betrothed her, against her will, to +Hodbrodd, son of Granmar. Helgi summoned his men to save her from this +loathed wedding. The battle in which Helgi slew his enemies and won +the lady of the air is told very shortly, while disproportionate +length is given to an interlude of vituperative dialogue between two +heroes, Sinfiotli, Helgi's brother, and Gudmund, son of Granmar, the +warden of the enemy's coast; this passage of _Vetus Comoedia_ takes up +fifty lines, while only six are given to the battle, and thirteen to +the meeting of Helgi and Sigrun afterwards. Here ends the poem which +is described in _Codex Regius_ as the _Lay of Helgi_ (_Helgakviđa_). +The story is continued in the next section in a disorderly way, by +means of ill-connected quotations. The original editor, whether +rightly or wrongly, is quite certain that the _Lay of Helgi_, which +ends with the victory of Helgi over the unamiable bridegroom, is a +different poem from that which he proceeds to quote as the _Old Lay of +the Volsungs_, in which the same story is told. In this second version +there is at least one interpolation from a third; a stanza from a poem +in the "dialogue measure," which is not the measure in which the rest +of the story is told. It is uncertain what application was meant to +be given to the title _Old Lay of the Volsungs_, and whether the +editor included under that title the whole of his second version of +Helgi and Sigrun. For instance, he gives another version of the +railing verses of Sinfiotli, which he may or may not have regarded as +forming an essential part of his _Old Volsung Lay_. He distinguishes +it at any rate from the other "Flyting," which he definitely and by +name ascribes to _Helgakviđa_. + +It is in this second version of the story of Helgi that the tragedy is +worked out. Helgi slays the father of Sigrun in his battle against the +bridegroom's kindred: Sigrun's brother takes vengeance. The space is +scant enough for all that is told in it; scant, that is to say, in +comparison with the space of the story of Beowulf; though whether the +poem loses, as poetry, by this compression is another matter. + +It is here, in connexion with the second version, that the tragedy is +followed by the verses of the grief of Sigrun, and the return of Helgi +from the dead; the passage of mystery, the musical close, in which the +tragic idea is changed into something less distinct than tragedy, yet +without detriment to the main action. + +Whatever may be the critical solution of the textual problems of these +_Lays_, it is impossible to get out of the text any form of narrative +that shall resemble the English mode. Even where the story of Helgi is +slowest, it is quicker, more abrupt, and more lyrical even than the +_Lay of Finnesburh_, which is the quickest in movement of the English +poems. + +The story of Helgi and Sigrun is intelligible, and though incomplete, +not yet so maimed as to have lost its proportions altogether. Along +with it, however, in the manuscript there are other, even more +difficult fragments of poems about another Helgi, son of Hiorvard, +and his love for another Valkyria, Swava. And yet again there are +traces of a third Helgi, with a history of his own. The editors of +_Corpus Poeticum Boreale_ have accepted the view of the three Helgis +that is indicated by the prose passages of the manuscript here; +namely, that the different stories are really of the same persons born +anew, "to go through the same life-story, though with varying +incidents."[24] "Helgi and Swava, it is said, were born again," is the +note in the manuscript. "There was a king named Hogni, and his +daughter was Sigrun. She was a Valkyria and rode over air and sea; +_she was Swava born again_." And, after the close of the story of +Sigrun, "it was a belief in the old days that men were born again, but +that is now reckoned old wives' fables. Helgi and Sigrun, it is +reported, were born anew, and then he was Helgi Haddingjaskati, and +she Kara, Halfdan's daughter, as is told in the songs of Kara, and she +was a Valkyria." + +[Footnote 24: _C.P.B._, i. p. 130.] + +It is still possible to regard the "old wives' fable" (which is a +common element in Celtic legend and elsewhere) as something +unessential in the poems of Helgi; as a popular explanation intended +to reconcile different myths attaching to the name. However that may +be, the poems of _Helgi and Swava_ are so fragmentary and confused, +and so much has to be eked out with prose, that it is impossible to +say what the complete form and scale of the poetical story may have +been, and even difficult to be certain that it was ever anything else +than fragments. As they stand, the remains are like those of the story +of Angantyr; prominent passages quoted by a chronicler, who gives the +less important part of the story in prose, either because he has +forgotten the rest of the poem, or because the poem was made in that +way to begin with. + +Of the poem of _Kara_, mentioned in the manuscript, there is nothing +left except what can be restored by a conjectural transference of some +verses, given under the name of Helgi and Sigrun, to this third +mysterious plot. The conjectures are supported by the reference to the +third story in the manuscript, and by the fact that certain passages +which do not fit in well to the story of Helgi and Sigrun, where they +are placed by the collector, correspond with prose passages in the +late Icelandic romance of _Hromund Greipsson_,[25] in which Kara is +introduced. + +[Footnote 25: _C.P.B._, Introduction, p. lxxviii.] + +The story of Helgi and Swava is one that covers a large period of +time, though the actual remnants of the story are small. It is a +tragedy of the early Elizabethan type described by Sir Philip Sidney, +which begins with the wooing of the hero's father and mother. The hero +is dumb and nameless from his birth, until the Valkyria, Swava, meets +him and gives him his name, Helgi; and tells him of a magic sword in +an island, that will bring him victory. + +The tragedy is brought about by a witch who drives Hedin, the brother +of Helgi, to make a foolish boast, an oath on the Boar's head (like +the vows of the Heron or the Peacock, and the _gabs_ of the Paladins +of France) that he will wed his brother's bride. Hedin confesses his +vanity to Helgi, and is forgiven, Helgi saying, "Who knows but the +oath may be fulfilled? I am on my way to meet a challenge." + +Helgi is wounded mortally, and sends a message to Swava to come to +him, and prays her after his death to take Hedin for her lord. The +poem ends with two short energetic speeches: of Swava refusing to have +any love but Helgi's; and of Hedin bidding farewell to Swava as he +goes to make amends, and avenge his brother. + +These fragments, though their evidence tells little regarding epic +scale or proportions, are, at least, illustrations of the nature of +the stories chosen for epic narrative. The character of Hedin, his +folly and magnanimity, is in strong contrast to that of Dag, the +brother of Sigrun, who makes mischief in the other poem. The character +of Swava is a fainter repetition of Sigrun. + +Nothing very definite can be made out of any of the Helgi poems with +regard to the conventions of scale in narrative; except that the +collector of the poems was himself in difficulties in this part of his +work, and that he knew he had no complete poem to offer his readers, +except perhaps the _Helgakviđa_. + +The poem named by the Oxford editors "The Long Lay of Brunhild" (i. p. +293) is headed in the manuscript "Qviđa Sigurţar," _Lay of Sigurd_, +and referred to, in the prose gloss of _Codex Regius_, as "The Short +Lay of Sigurd."[26] This is one of the most important of the Northern +heroic lays, in every respect; and, among other reasons, as an example +of definite artistic calculation and study, a finished piece of work. +It shows the difference between the Northern and the Western standards +of epic measurement. The poem is one that gives the whole of the +tragedy in no longer space than is used in the poem of _Maldon_ for +the adventures of a few hours of battle. There are 288 lines, not all +complete. + +[Footnote 26: The "Long Lay of Sigurd" has disappeared. Cf. Heusler, +_Die Lieder der Lücke im Codex Regius der Edda_, 1902.] + +There are many various modes of representation in the poem. The +beginning tells the earlier story of Sigurd and Brynhild in twenty +lines:-- + + It was in the days of old that Sigurd, the young Volsung, + the slayer of Fafni, came to the house of Giuki. He took the + troth-plight of two brothers; the doughty heroes gave oaths + one to another. They offered him the maid Gudrun, Giuki's + daughter, and store of treasure; they drank and took counsel + together many a day, Child Sigurd and the sons of Giuki; + until they went to woo Brynhild, and Sigurd the Volsung rode + in their company; he was to win her if he could get her. The + Southern hero laid a naked sword, a falchion graven, between + them twain; nor did the Hunnish king ever kiss her, neither + take her into his arms; he handed the young maiden over to + Giuki's son. + + She knew no guilt in her life, nor was any evil found in her + when she died, no blame in deed or thought. The grim Fates + came between.[27] + +[Footnote 27: From _C.P.B._, i. pp. 293, 294, with some +modifications.] + +"It was the Fates that worked them ill." This sententious close of the +prologue introduces the main story, chiefly dramatic in form, in which +Brynhild persuades Gunnar to plan the death of Sigurd, and Gunnar +persuades Hogni. It is love for Sigurd, and jealousy of Gudrun, that +form the motive of Brynhild. Gunnar's conduct is barely intelligible; +there is no explanation of his compliance with Brynhild, except the +mere strength of her importunity. Hogni is reluctant, and remembers +the oaths sworn to Sigurd. Gothorm, their younger brother, is made +their instrument,--he was "outside the oaths." The slaying of Sigurd +by Gothorm, and Sigurd's dying stroke that cuts his slayer in two, are +told in the brief manner of the prologue to the poem; likewise the +grief of Gudrun. Then comes Sigurd's speech to Gudrun before his +death. + +The principal part of the poem, from line 118 to the end, is filled by +the storm in the mind of Brynhild: her laughter at the grief of +Gudrun, her confession of her own sorrows, and her preparation for +death; the expostulations of Gunnar, the bitter speech of +Hogni,--"Let no man stay her from her long journey"; the stroke of the +sword with which Brynhild gives herself the death-wound; her dying +prophecy. In this last speech of Brynhild, with all its vehemence, +there is manifest care on the part of the author to bring out clearly +his knowledge of the later fortunes of Gudrun and Gunnar. The prophecy +includes the birth of Swanhild, the marriage of Attila and Gudrun, the +death of Gunnar at the hands of Attila, by reason of the love between +Gudrun and Oddrun; the vengeance of Gudrun on Attila, the third +marriage of Gudrun, the death of Swanhild among the Goths. With all +this, and carrying all this burden of history, there is the passion of +Brynhild, not wholly obscured or quenched by the rhetorical ingenuity +of the poet. For it is plain that the poet was an artist capable of +more than one thing at a time. He was stirred by the tragic personage +of Brynhild; he was also pleased, intellectually and dispassionately, +with his design of grouping together in one composition all the events +of the tragic history. + +The poem is followed by the short separate Lay (forty-four lines) of +the _Hell-ride of Brynhild_, which looks as if it might have been +composed by the same or another poet, to supply some of the history +wanting at the beginning of the _Lay of Brynhild_. Brynhild, riding +Hell-ward with Sigurd, from the funeral pile where she and Sigurd had +been laid by the Giuking lords, is encountered by a giantess who +forbids her to pass through her "rock-built courts," and cries shame +upon her for her guilt. Brynhild answers with the story of her evil +fate, how she was a Valkyria, punished by Odin for disobedience, set +in the ring of flame, to be released by none but the slayer of Fafni; +how she had been beguiled in Gunnar's wooing, and how Gudrun cast it +in her teeth. This supplies the motive for the anger of Brynhild +against Sigurd, not clearly expressed in the _Lay_, and also for +Gunnar's compliance with her jealous appeal, and Hogni's consent to +the death of Sigurd. While, in the same manner as in the _Lay_, the +formalism and pedantry of the historical poet are burnt up in the +passion of the heroine. "Sorrow is the portion of the life of all men +and women born: we two, I and Sigurd, shall be parted no more for +ever." The latter part of the _Lay_, the long monologue of Brynhild, +is in form like the _Lamentation of Oddrun_ and the idyll of Gudrun +and Theodoric; though, unlike those poems, it has a fuller narrative +introduction: the monologue does not begin until the situation has +been explained. + +On the same subject, but in strong contrast with the _Lay of +Brynhild_, is the poem that has lost its beginning in the great gap in +_Codex Regius_. It is commonly referred to in the editions as the +_Fragmentary Lay of Sigurd_ ("Brot af Sigurđarkviđu"); in the Oxford +edition it is styled the "Fragment of a short Brunhild Lay." There are +seventy-six lines (incomplete) beginning with the colloquy of Gunnar +and Hogni. Here also the character of Brynhild is the inspiration of +the poet. But there does not seem to have been in his mind anything +like the historical anxiety of the other poet to account for every +incident, or at least to show that, if he wished, he could account for +every incident, in the whole story. It is much stronger in expression, +and the conception of Brynhild is more dramatic and more imaginative, +though less eloquent, than in the longer poem. The phrasing is short +and emphatic:-- + + Gudrun, Giuki's daughter, stood without, and this was the + first word she spoke: "Where is Sigurd, the king of men, + that my brothers are riding in the van?" Hogni made answer + to her words: "We have hewn Sigurd asunder with the sword; + ever the grey horse droops his head over the dead king." + + Then spake Brynhild, Budli's daughter: "Have great joy of + your weapons and hands. Sigurd would have ruled everything + as he chose, if he had kept his life a little longer. It was + not meet that he should so rule over the host of the Goths + and the heritage of Giuki, who begat five sons that + delighted in war and in the havoc of battle." + + Brynhild laughed, the whole house rang: "Have long joy of + your hands and weapons, since ye have slain the valiant + king."[28] + +[Footnote 28: From _C.P.B._, i. p. 307, with some changes.] + +The mood of Brynhild is altered later, and she "weeps at that she had +laughed at." She wakens before the day, chilled by evil dreams. "It +was cold in the hall, and cold in the bed," and she had seen in her +sleep the end of the Niblungs, and woke, and reproached Gunnar with +the treason to his friend. + +It is difficult to estimate the original full compass of this +fragmentary poem, but the scale of its narrative and its drama can be +pretty clearly understood from what remains. It is a poem with nothing +superfluous in it. The death of Sigurd does not seem to have been +given in any detail, except for the commentary spoken by the eagle and +the raven, prophetic of the doom of the Niblungs. The mystery of +Brynhild's character is curiously recognised by a sort of informal +chorus. It is said that "they were stricken silent as she spoke, and +none could understand her bearing, that she should weep to speak of +that for which she had besought them laughing." It is one of the +simplest forms in narrative; but in this case the simplicity of the +rhetoric goes along with some variety and subtlety of dramatic +imagination. The character of the heroine is rightly imagined and +strongly rendered, and her change of mind is impressive, as the +author plainly meant it to be. + +The _Lay of Attila_ (_Atlakviđa_) and the Greenland poem of _Attila_ +(_Atlamál_) are two poems which have a common subject and the same +amount of story: how Attila sent for Gunnar and Hogni, the brothers of +Gudrun, and had them put to death, and how Gudrun took vengeance on +Attila. + +In the _Atlakviđa_ there are 174 lines, and some broken places; in +_Atlamál_ there are 384 lines; its narrative is more copious than in +most of the Norse Lays. There are some curious discrepancies in the +matter of the two poems, but these hardly affect the scale of the +story. The difference between them in this respect is fairly +represented by the difference in the number of their lines. The scenes +of the history are kept in similar proportions in both poems. + +The story of Gudrun's vengeance has been seen (p. 83) to correspond, +as far as the amount of action is concerned, pretty closely with the +story of Hengest and Finn. The epic unity is preserved; and, as in the +_Finnesburh_ story, there is a distribution of interest between the +_wrong_ and the _vengeance_,--(1) the death of Hnćf, the death of +Gunnar and Hogni; (2) the vengeance of Hengest, the vengeance of +Gudrun, with an interval of dissimulation in each case. + +The plot of the death of Attila, under all its manifold variations, is +never without a certain natural fitness for consistent and +well-proportioned narrative. + +None of the Northern poems take any account of the theory that the +murder of Sigfred was avenged by his wife upon her brothers. That +theory belongs to the _Nibelungenlied_; in some form or other it was +known to Saxo; it is found in the Danish ballad of _Grimild's +Revenge_, a translation or adaptation from the German. That other +conception of the story may be more full of tragic meaning; the +Northern versions, which agree in making Attila the slayer of the +Niblung kings, have the advantage of greater concentration. The motive +of Attila, which is different in each of the poems on this subject, is +in no case equal to the tragic motive of Kriemhild in the +_Nibelungen_. On the other hand, the present interest of the story is +not distracted by reference to the long previous history of Sigfred; a +new start is made when the Niblungs are invited to Attila's Court. The +situation is intelligible at once, without any long preliminary +explanation. + +In the _Lay of Attila_ the hoard of the Niblungs comes into the story; +its fatal significance is recognised; it is the "metal of discord" +that is left in the Rhine for ever. But the situation can be +understood without any long preliminary history of the Niblung +treasure and its fate. Just as the story of _Waldere_ explains itself +at once,--a man defending his bride and his worldly wealth against a +number of enemies, in a place where he is able to take them one by +one, as they come on,--so the story of _Attila_ can begin without long +preliminaries; though the previous history is to be found, in +tradition, in common stories, if any one cares to ask for it. The plot +is intelligible in a moment: the brothers inveigled away and killed by +their sister's husband (for reasons of his own, as to which the +versions do not agree); their sister's vengeance by the sacrifice of +her own children and the death of her husband. + +In the _Atlamál_ there is very much less recognition of the previous +history than in _Atlakviđa_. The story begins at once with the +invitation to the Niblung brothers and with their sister's warning. +Attila's motive is not emphasised; he has a grudge against them on +account of the death of Brynhild his sister, but his motive is not +very necessary for the story, as the story is managed here. The +present scene and the present passion are not complicated with too +much reference to the former history of the personages. This mode of +procedure will be found to have given some trouble to the author, but +the result at any rate is a complete and rounded work. + +There is great difference of treatment between _Atlakviđa_ and the +Greenland poem _Atlamál_, a difference which is worth some further +consideration.[29] There is, however, no very great difference of +scale; at any rate, the difference between them becomes unimportant +when they are compared with _Beowulf_. Even the more prolix of the +two, which in some respects is the fullest and most elaborate of the +Northern heroic poems, yet comes short of the English scale. _Atlamál_ +takes up very little more than the space of the English poem of +_Maldon_, which is a simple narrative of a battle, with nothing like +the tragic complexity and variety of the story of the vengeance of +Gudrun. + +[Footnote 29: See pp. 150-156 below.] + +There is yet another version of the death of Gunnar the Giuking to +compare with the two poems of _Attila_--the _Lament of Oddrun_ +(_Oddrúnargrátr_), which precedes the _Atlakviđa_ in the manuscript. +The form of this, as well as the plot of it, is wonderfully different +from either of the other two poems. This is one of the epic or tragic +idylls in which a passage of heroic legend is told dramatically by one +who had a share in it. Here the death of Gunnar is told by Oddrun his +mistress, the sister of Attila. + +This form of indirect narration, by giving so great a dramatic value +to the person of the narrator, before the beginning of her story, of +course tends to depreciate or to exclude the vivid dramatic scenes +that are common everywhere else in the Northern poems. The character +of the speaker leaves too little independence to the other characters. +But in none of the poems is the tragic plot more strongly drawn out +than in the seventy lines of Oddrun's story to Borgny. + +The father of Oddrun, Brynhild, and Attila had destined Oddrun to be +the bride of Gunnar, but it was Brynhild that he married. Then came +the anger of Brynhild against Sigurd, the death of Sigurd, the death +of Brynhild that is renowned over all the world. Gunnar sought the +hand of Oddrun from her brother Attila, but Attila would not accept +the price of the bride from the son of Giuki. The love of Oddrun was +given to Gunnar. "I gave my love to Gunnar as Brynhild should have +loved him. We could not withstand our love: I kept troth with Gunnar." +The lovers were betrayed to Attila, who would not believe the +accusation against his sister; "yet no man should pledge his honour +for the innocence of another, when it is a matter of love." At last he +was persuaded, and laid a plot to take vengeance on the Niblungs; +Gudrun knew nothing of what was intended. + +The death of Gunnar and Hogni is told in five-and-twenty lines:-- + + There was din of the hoofs of gold when the sons of Giuki + rode into the Court. The heart was cut out of the body of + Hogni; his brother they set in the pit of snakes. The wise + king smote on his harp, for he thought that I should come to + his help. Howbeit I was gone to the banquet at the house of + Geirmund. From Hlessey I heard how the strings rang loud. I + called to my handmaidens to rise and go; I sought to save + the life of the prince; we sailed across the sound, till we + saw the halls of Attila. But the accursed serpent crept to + the heart of Gunnar, so that I might not save the life of + the king. + + Full oft I wonder how I keep my life after him, for I + thought I loved him like myself. + + Thou hast sat and listened while I have told thee many evils + of my lot and theirs. The life of a man is as his thoughts + are. + + The Lamentation of Oddrun is finished. + +The _Hamđismál_, the poem of the death of Ermanaric, is one that, in +its proportions, is not unlike the _Atlakviđa_: the plot has been +already described (pp. 70-71). The poem of 130 lines as it stands has +suffered a good deal. This also is like the story of Hengest and the +story of Gudrun in the way the action is proportioned. It began with +the slaying of Swanhild, the wrong to Gudrun--this part is lost. It +goes on to the speech of Gudrun to her sons, Sorli and Hamther, and +their expedition to the hall of the Goth; it ends with their death. In +this case, also, the action must have begun at once and intelligibly, +as soon as the motive of the Gothic treachery and cruelty was +explained, or even without that explanation, in the more immediate +sense of the treachery and cruelty, in the story of Swanhild trampled +to death, and of the news brought to Gudrun. Here, also, there is much +less expansion of the story than in the English poems; everything is +surcharged with meaning. + +The _Old Lay of Gudrun_ (_Guđrúnarkviđa in forna_), or the tale of +Gudrun to Theodoric, an idyll like the story of Oddrun, goes quickly +over the event of the killing of Sigurd, and the return of Grani, +masterless. Unlike the _Lament of Oddrun_, this monologue of Gudrun +introduces dramatic passages. The meeting of Gudrun and her brother is +not merely told by Gudrun in indirect narration; the speeches of Hogni +and Gudrun are reported directly, as they might have been in a poem of +the form of _Atlakviđa_, or the _Lay of Sigurd_, or any other in +which the poet tells the story himself, without the introduction of an +imaginary narrator. The main part of the poem is an account of the way +in which Gudrun's mother, Grimhild, compelled her, by a potion of +forgetfulness, to lose the thought of Sigurd and of all her woes, and +consent to become the wife of Attila. This part is well prefaced by +the quiet account of the life of Gudrun in her widowhood, before +Grimhild began her schemes; how Gudrun lived in the house of Half, +with Thora, daughter of Hakon, in Denmark, and how the ladies spent +their time at the tapestry frame, working pictures of the heroes, the +ships of Sigmund, the ranks of Hunnish warriors. + +In the manuscript there are found at the end of the _Old Lay of +Gudrun_, as if they were part of it, some verses which have been +separated from it by the editors (_C.P.B._, i. 347) as a "Fragment of +an Atli Lay." They came from a poem of which the design, at any rate, +was the same as that of the _Old Lay_, and Gudrun is the speaker. She +tells how, after the death of Gunnar and Hogni, she was wakened by +Atli, to listen to his evil dreams, foreboding his doom, and how she +interpreted them in a way to comfort him and put him off his guard. + +In English poetry there are instances of stories introduced +dramatically, long before the pilgrimage to Canterbury. In _Beowulf_ +there are various episodes where a story is told by one of the persons +engaged. Besides the poem of Hengest chanted in Heorot, there is +Beowulf's own narrative of his adventures, after his return to his own +people in the kingdom of the Gauts, and passages still nearer in form +to the _Lament of Oddrun_ and the _Confession of Gudrun_ are the last +speech of Beowulf before his death (2426-2537), and the long speech of +Wiglaf (2900-3027) telling of the enmity of the Gauts and the Swedes. +But those are not filled with dramatic pathos to the same degree as +these Northern _Heroides_, the monologues of Oddrun and Gudrun. + +The _Lay of Gudrun_ (_Gudrúnarkviđa_) which comes in the manuscript +immediately before the _Lay of Sigurd_, is a pure heroic idyll. Unlike +most of its companions, it leaves the details of the Volsung story +very much in neglect, and brings all its force to bear on the +representation of the grief of the queen, contrasted with the stormy +passion of Brynhild. It is rightly honoured for its pathetic +imagination of the dumb grief of Gudrun, broken up and dissolved when +her sister draws away the covering from the face of Sigurd. "But fire +was kindled in the eyes of Brynhild, daughter of Budli, when she +looked upon his wounds." + +The refrain of the poem increases its resemblance to the form of a +Greek idyll. The verse is that of narrative poetry; the refrain is not +purely lyrical and does not come in at regular intervals. + +The _Tregrof Guđrúnar_, or _Chain of Woe_, restored by the Oxford +editors out of the most confused part of the original text, is pure +lamentation, spoken by Gudrun before her death, recounting all her +sorrows: the bright hair of Swanhild trampled in the mire; Sigurd +slain in his bed, despoiled of victory; Gunnar in the court of the +serpents; the heart of Hogni cut out of his living body--"Saddle thy +white steed and come to me, Sigurd; remember what we promised to one +another, that thou wouldst come from Hell to seek me, and I would come +to thee from the living world." + +The short poem entitled _Qviđa Guđrúnar_ in the manuscript, the +_Ordeal of Gudrun_ in the English edition, has a simple plot. The +subject is the calumny which was brought against Gudrun by Herkja, the +cast-off mistress of Attila (that "she had seen Gudrun and Theodoric +together") and the ordeal of water by which Gudrun proved her +innocence, while the falsehood was brought home to Herkja, the +bondwoman. The theme is slighter than all the rest, and this poem, at +least, might be reckoned not unfit to be taken up as a single scene in +a long epic. + +Some of the Northern poems in the epic measure are almost wholly made +up of dialogue. The story of _Balder's Doom_ is a dialogue between +Odin and the witch whom he raises from the dead. The earlier part of +the story of Sigurd in the "Elder Edda" is almost all dialogue, even +where the narrative measure is employed. + +There is hardly any mere narrative in the poems remaining of the cycle +of Angantyr. In several other cases, the writer has only given, +perhaps has only remembered clearly, the dramatic part of the poems in +which he was interested; the intervals of the story he fills up with +prose. It is difficult to tell where this want of narrative connexion +in the poetry is original, and where it is due to forgetfulness or +ignorance; where the prose of the manuscripts is to be taken as +standing in the place of lost narrative verses, and where it fills a +gap that was never intended to be filled with verse, but was always +left to the reciter, to be supplied in his own way by passages of +story-telling, between his chantings of the poetic dialogue of Hervor +and the Shepherd, for instance, or of Hervor and Angantyr. + +The poems just mentioned are composed in narrative measure. There are +also other dialogue poems in a measure different from this, and +peculiarly adapted to dialogues, the measure of the gnomic _Hávamál_ +and of the didactic mythological poems, _Vafţrúđnismál_, _Alvíssmál_, +_Grímnismál_. These pieces are some distance removed from epic or +ballad poetry. But there are others in this gnomic measure which it +is not easy to keep far apart from such dialogue poems as _Balder's +Doom_, though their verse is different. By their peculiar verse they +are distinguished from the English and Saxon heroic poetry; but they +retain, for all their peculiar metre and their want of direct +narrative, some of the characteristics of Teutonic epic. + +The _Lokasenna_ has a plot, and represents dramatically an incident in +the history of the gods. The chief business is Loki's shameless +rehearsal of accusations against the gods, and their helpless +rejoinders. It is a masque of the gods, and not a ballad like the +_Winning of Thor's Hammer_. It is not, however, a mere string of +"flytings" without a plot; there is some plot and action. It is the +absence of Thor that gives Loki courage to browbeat the gods; the +return of Thor at the end of the poem avenges the gods on their +accuser. + +In the strange poem of the _Railing of Thor and Harbard_, and in a +very rough and irregular kind of verse, there is a similar kind of +plot. + +The _Contention of Atli and Rimgerd the Giantess_ is a short comic +dialogue, interposed among the fragments of the poem of Helgi +Hiorvard's son, and marked off from them by its use of the dialogue +verse, as well as by its episodic plot. + +Helgi Hiorvard's son had killed the giant Hati, and the giant's +daughter comes at night where Helgi's ships are moored in the firth, +and stands on a rock over them, challenging Helgi and his men. Atli, +keeping watch on deck, answers the giantess, and there is an exchange +of gibes in the old style between them. Helgi is awakened and joins in +the argument. It is good comedy of its kind, and there is poetry in +the giantess's description of the company of armed maidens of the air +whom she has seen keeping guard over Helgi's ships--"three nines of +maids, but one rode foremost, a white maid, enhelmed. Their rearing +horses shook dew from their manes into the deep dales, and hail upon +the lofty woods; thence come fair seasons among men. But the whole +sight was hateful to me" (_C.P.B._, i. p. 154). + +The giantess is kept there by the gibes of Atli till the daybreak. +"Look eastward, now, Rimgerd!" And the giantess is turned into stone, +a great harbour mark, to be laughed at. + +In some other poems there is much more action, and much more need for +an interpreter to act as chorus in the intervals between the +dialogues. The story of the wooing of Gerd is in this form: how Frey +sat in the seat of Odin and saw a fair maid in Jotunheim, and got +great sickness of thought, till his swain Skirnir found the cause of +his languishing, and went to woo Gerd for him in Gymi's Garth. Another +love-story, and a story not unlike that of Frey and Gerd, is contained +in two poems _Grógaldr_ and _Fiölsvinnsmál_, that tell of the winning +of Menglad by her destined lover. + +These two latter poems are not in _Codex Regius_, and it was only +gradually that their relation to one another was worked out, chiefly +by means of the Danish ballad which contains the story of both +together in the right order. + +In the first, Svipdag the hero comes to his mother's grave to call on +her for counsel. He has been laid under a mysterious charge, to go on +a quest which he cannot understand, "to find out Menglad," and Menglad +he has never heard of, and does not know where she is to be found. + +The second poem, also in dialogue, and in the dialogue measure, gives +the coming of Svipdag to the mysterious castle, and his debate with +the giant who keeps the gate. For Menglad is the princess whose story +is told everywhere, and under a thousand names,--the lady of a strange +country, kept under a spell in a witch's castle till the deliverer +comes. The wooing of Gerd out of Jotunheim is another version of the +same story, which in different forms is one of the oldest and most +universal everywhere,--the fairy story of the princess beyond the sea. + +The second dialogue is very much encumbered by the pedantries of the +giant who keeps the gate; it ends, however, in the recognition of +Svipdag and Menglad. Menglad says: "Long have I sat waiting for thee, +many a day; but now is that befallen that I have sought for, and thou +art come to my bower. Great was the sorrow of my waiting; great was +thine, waiting for the gladness of love. Now it is very truth for us: +the days of our life shall not be sundered." + +The same form is used in the older poems of Sigurd, those that come +before the hiatus of the great manuscript, and have been gathered +together in the Oxford edition under the title of the _Old Play of the +Wolsungs_. They touch briefly on all the chief points of the story of +the Niblung hoard, from the capture and ransom of Andvari to the +winning of the warrior maiden Sigrdrifa by Sigurd. + +All these last-mentioned dialogue poems, in spite of their lyric or +elegiac measure, are like the narrative poems in their dependence upon +traditional, mythic, or heroic stories, from which they choose their +themes. They are not like the lyrical heroic poems of _Widsith_ and +_Deor_ in Anglo-Saxon literature, which survey a large tract of heroic +legend from a point of vantage. Something of this sort is done by some +of the Norse dialogue poems, _Vafţrúđnismál_, etc., but in the poems +of Frey and Gerd, of Svipdag and Menglad, and of the Niblung +treasure, though this reflective and comparative method occasionally +makes itself evident, the interest is that of the story. They have a +story to represent, just as much as the narrative poems, though they +are debarred from the use of narrative. + + * * * * * + +It must be confessed that there is an easily detected ambiguity in the +use of the term epic in application to the poems, whether German, +English, or Northern, here reviewed. That they are heroic poems cannot +be questioned, but that they are epic in any save the most general +sense of the term is not quite clear. They may be epic in character, +in a general way, but how many of them have a claim to the title in +its eminent and special sense? Most of them are short poems; most of +them seem to be wanting in the breadth of treatment, in the amplitude +of substance, that are proper to epic poetry. + +_Beowulf_, it may be admitted, is epic in the sense that distinguishes +between the longer narrative poem and the shorter ballad. The +fragments of _Waldere_ are the fragments of a poem that is not cramped +for room, and that moves easily and with sufficient eloquence in the +representation of action. The narrative of the _Maldon_ poem is not +pinched nor meagre in its proportions. Hardly any of the other poems, +however, can be compared with these in this respect. These are the +most liberal in scale of all the old Teutonic poems; the largest epic +works of which we know anything directly. These are the fullest in +composition, the least abstract or elliptical; and they still want +something of the scale of the _Iliad_. The poem of _Maldon_, for +instance, corresponds not to the _Iliad_, but to the action of a +single book, such as the twelfth, with which it has been already +compared. If the story of the English _Waldere_, when complete, was +not more elaborate than the extant Latin _Waltharius_, it must have +come far short of the proportions of Homer. It is a story for a single +recitation, like the story of Finnesburh in _Beowulf_. The poem of +_Beowulf_ may have more in it than the story of Walter and Hildegund, +but this advantage would seem to be gained at the expense of the unity +of the poem. It is lengthened out by a sequel, by the addition of a +new adventure which requires the poet to make a new start. In the poem +of _Hildebrand_ there is a single tragedy contained in a single scene. +It is briefly rendered, in a style evidently more primitive, less +expansive and eloquent, than the style of _Beowulf_ or _Waldere_. Even +if it had been given in a fuller form, the story would still have been +essentially a short one; it could not well have been longer than the +poem of _Sohrab and Rustum_, where the theme is almost the same, while +the scale is that of the classical epic. + +If the old English epic poetry falls short of the Homeric magnitude, +it almost equally exceeds the scale of the Northern heroic poems. If +_Beowulf_ and _Waldere_ seem inadequate in size, the defect will not +be made good out of the Northern lays of _Helgi_ or _Sigfred_. + +The Northern poems are exceedingly varied in their plan and +disposition, but none of them is long, and many of them are in the +form of _dramatic lyric_, with no place for pure narrative at all; +such are the poems of _Frey's Wooing_, of _Svipdag and Menglad_, and +others, in which there is a definite plot worked out by means of lyric +dialogue. None of them is of anything like the same scale as +_Beowulf_, which is a complex epic poem, or _Byrhtnoth_, which is an +episodic poem liberally dealt with and of considerable length. + +The Teutonic poetry presents itself, at a first view, as the +complement of Homer. Here are to be found many of the things that are +wanting at the beginning of Greek literary history. Here are single +epic lays, or clusters of them, in every form. Here, in place of the +two great poems, rounded and complete, there is the nebulous expanse +of heroic tradition, the outline of an heroic cycle, together with a +number of episodic poems taking their origin from one point or another +of the cycle, according as the different parts of the story happen to +catch the imagination of a poet. Instead of the Homeric scale of epic +there are a number of brief epic tragedies, the plots of which are +chosen from the multitude of stories current in tradition. + +Among these shorter epic poems, if such they may be called, there are +to be distinguished great varieties of procedure in regard to the +amount of action represented in the poem. + +There is one class of poem that represents a single action with some +detail; there is another that represents a long and complex story in a +summary and allusive way. The first kind may be called _episodic_ in +the sense that it takes up about the same quantity of story as might +make an act in a play; or perhaps, with a little straining of the +term, as much as might serve for one play in a trilogy. + +The second kind is not episodic; it does not seem fitted for a place +in a larger composition. It is a kind of short and summary epic, +taking as large a province of history as the _Iliad_ or the _Odyssey_. + +_Hildebrand_, the _Fight at Finnesburh_, _Waldere_, _Byrhtnoth_, the +_Winning of the Hammer_, _Thor's Fishing_, the _Death of the Niblungs_ +(in any of the Northern versions), the _Death of Ermanaric_, might all +be fairly regarded as belonging to the first kind of story; while the +_Lay of Weland_ and the _Lay of Brynhild_ cover a much larger extent +of story, though not of actual space, than any of those. + +It is not quite easy to find a common measure for these and for the +Homeric poems. One can tell perhaps from Mr. Arnold's poem of _Sohrab +and Rustum_ how much is wanting to the _Lay of Hildebrand_, and on +what scale the story of Hildebrand might have been told if it had been +told in the Homeric instead of the archaic German manner. The story of +Walter of Aquitaine in the Latin hexameters of _Waltharius_ takes up +1456 lines. Although the author of this Latin poem is something short +of Homer, "a little overparted" by the comparison, still his work is +designed on the scale of classical epic, and gives approximately the +right extent of the story in classical form. But while those stories +are comparatively short, even in their most expanded forms, the story +of Weland and the story of Helgi each contains as much as would +suffice for the plot of an _Odyssey_, or more. The _Lay of Brynhild_ +is not an episodic poem of the vengeance and the passion of Brynhild, +though that is the principal theme. It begins in a summary manner with +Sigurd's coming to the house of the Niblungs, the wedding of Sigurd +and Gudrun, the wooing of Brynhild for Gunnar; all these earlier +matters are taken up and touched on before the story comes to the +searchings of heart when the kings are persuaded to kill Sigurd. Then +the death of Sigurd is told of, and the rest of the poem is filled +with the tragedy of Brynhild and Gudrun; the future history of Gudrun +is spoken of prophetically by Brynhild before she throws herself on +the funeral pile. Plainly this cannot be considered in the same sense +"episodic" as the poem of Thor's fishing for the Midgarth snake. The +poems of Thor's fishing and the recovery of the hammer are distinctly +fragments of a legendary cycle. The _Lay of Brynhild_ makes an +attempt to complete the whole Volsung story from beginning to end, +while giving special importance to one particular incident of it,--the +passion of Brynhild after the death of Sigurd. The poems of _Attila_ +and the _Lay of the Death of Ermanaric_ are more restricted. + +It remains true that the great story of the Niblung tragedy was never +told at length in the poetical measure used for episodes of it, and +for the summary form of the _Lay of Brynhild_. It should be +remembered, however, that a poem of the scale of the _Nibelungenlied_, +taking up the whole matter, must go as far beyond the Homeric limit as +the _Lay of Brynhild_ falls short of it. From one point of view the +shorter episodic poems are more Homeric in their plots than either the +summary epics which cover the whole ground, as the _Lay of Brynhild_ +attempts to cover it, or the longer works in prose that begin at the +beginning and go on to the end, like the _Volsunga Saga_. The _Iliad_ +and the _Odyssey_ are themselves episodic poems; neither of them has +the reach of the _Nibelungenlied_. It should not be forgotten, either, +that Aristotle found the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_ rather long. The +Teutonic poems are not to be despised because they have a narrower +orbit than the _Iliad_. Those among them that contain matter enough +for a single tragedy, and there are few that have not as much as this +in them, may be considered not to fall far short of the standard fixed +by Aristotle for the right amount of action to be contained in an +heroic poem. They are too hurried, they are wanting in the classical +breadth and ease of narrative; but at any rate they are +comprehensible, they observe an epic unity. They do not, like certain +of the endless French poetical histories, remind one of the picture +of incomprehensible bulk in Aristotle's _Poetics_, the animal 10,000 +stadia long. + +Thus, though it is natural at first to imagine that in the old +Teutonic poetry one is possessed of such separate lays or ballads as +might be the original materials of a larger epic, an epic of the +Homeric scale, this impression will hardly remain long after a closer +criticism of the workmanship of the poems. Very few of them correspond +in the amount of their story to the episodes of the Homeric poems. +Many of them contain in a short space the matter of stories more +complicated, more tragical, than the story of Achilles. Most of them +by their unity and self-consistency make it difficult to think of them +as absorbed in a longer epic. This is the case not only with those +that take in a whole history, like the _Lay of Brynhild_, but also +with those whose plot is comparatively simple, like _Hildebrand_ or +_Waldere_. It is possible to think of the story of Walter and +Hildegund as forming part of a larger story of the fortunes of the +Huns. It has this subordinate place in the _Thidreks Saga_. But it is +not easy to believe that in such a case it preserves its value. +_Thidreks Saga_ is not an epic, though it is made by an agglutination +of ballads. In like manner the tragedy of _Hildebrand_ gains by its +isolation from the stories of the other chiefs, Theodoric and Odoacer. +The stories of Walter and of Hildebrand, like the story of Hamlet the +Dane, are too strong in themselves to form part of a larger +composition, without detriment to its unity and harmony. They might be +brought in allusively and in a subordinate way, like the story of +Thebes and other stories in the _Iliad_; but that is not the same +thing as making an epic poem out of separate lays. So that on all +grounds the first impression of the Teutonic epic poetry has to be +modified. If ever epic poetry was made by a conglomeration of +ballads, it must have had other kinds of material than this. Some of +the poems are episodic; others are rather to be described as +abridgments of epic than as separate epic scenes. But neither in the +one case nor in the other is there to be found the kind of poetry that +is required by the hypothesis of composite epic. There are short epics +that might conceivably have served as the framework, or the +ground-plan, of a more elaborate work, containing, like the _Lay of +Helgi_ or the _Lay of Brynhild_, incidents enough and hints of +character enough for a history fully worked out, as large as the +Homeric poems. If it should be asked why there is so little evidence +of any Teutonic attempt to weave together separate lays into an epic +work, the answer might be, first, that the separate lays we know are +too much separate and individual, too strong in themselves, to be +satisfactorily cobbled into a more expansive fabric; and, secondly, +that it has not yet been proved that epic poems can be made by process +of cobbling. The need of a comprehensive epic of the Niblungs was not +imperative. Neither was there any demand in Athens, in the time of +Sophocles and Euripides, for a comprehensive work--a _Thebaid_, a +_Roman de Thčbes_--to include the plots of all the tragedies of the +house of Cadmus. It was not a poet, but a prose journeyman, who did +this sort of work in the North, and it was not till the old school of +poetry had passed away that the composite prose history of the +Volsungs and Niblungs, of Sigmund and Sinfiotli, Sigurd, Brynhild, +Gudrun, and Atli, was put together out of the old poems. The old lays, +Northern and Western, whatever their value, have all strong individual +characters of their own, and do not easily submit to be regarded as +merely the unused materials, waiting for an epic composer who never +was born. + + +III + +EPIC AND BALLAD POETRY + +The ballads of a later age have many points of likeness to such poems +as _Hildebrand_, _Finnesburh_, _Maldon_, and the poems of the Northern +collection. The two orders of poetry are, however, not to be +confounded. Their affinity indeed is clear. But the older poems in +alliterative verse have a character not possessed by the ballads which +followed them, and which often repeated the same stories in the later +Middle Ages. Even the simplest of the older poems, which is the _Lay +of Hildebrand_, is distinguished by evident signs of dignity from even +the most ambitious of the rhyming ballads in any of the tongues. Its +rhetoric is of a different order. + +This is not a question of preferences, but of distinction of kinds. +The claim of an epic or heroic rank for the older poems need not be +forced into a denial of all the other excellences of the rhyming +ballads. + +_Ballad_, as the term is commonly used, implies a certain degree of +simplicity, and an absence of high poetical ambition. Ballads are for +the market-place and the "blind crowder," or for the rustic chorus +that sings the ballad burden. The wonderful poetical beauty of some of +the popular ballads of Scotland and Denmark, not to speak of other +lands, is a kind of beauty that is never attained by the great +poetical artists; an unconscious grace. The ballads of the Scottish +Border, from their first invention to the publication of the _Border +Minstrelsy_, lie far away from the great streams of poetical +inspiration. They have little or nothing to do with the triumphs of +the poets; the "progress of poesy" leaves them untouched; they learn +neither from Milton nor from Pope, but keep a life of their own that +has its sources far remote in the past, in quite another tradition of +art than that to which the great authors and their works belong. + +The Teutonic epic poems, the Northern poems at any rate, are ballads +in respect of their management of the plots. The scale of them is not +to be distinguished from the scale of a ballad: the ballads have the +same way of indicating and alluding to things and events without +direct narrative, without continuity, going rapidly from critical +point to point, in their survey of the fable. + +But there is this great difference, that the style of the earlier +epics is ambitious and self-conscious, an aristocratic and +accomplished style. The ballads of _Clerk Saunders_ or _Sir Patrick +Spens_ tell about things that have been generally forgotten, in the +great houses of the country, by the great people who have other things +to think about, and, if they take to literature, other models of +style. The lay of the fight at Finnesburh, the lays of the death of +Attila, were in their time the poems of the king's or the earl's hall; +they were at the height of literary accomplishment in their +generation, and their style displays the consciousness of rank. The +ballads never had anything like the honour that was given to the older +lays. + +The difference between epic and ballad style comes out most obviously +when, as frequently has happened, in Denmark, Iceland, and the +Faroes, the poems of the old school have been translated from their +epic verse into the "eights and sixes" or some other favourite measure +of the common ballads. This has been the case, for instance, with the +poem of Thor's Hammer, and the poem of the journey of Svipdag in +search of Menglad. In other cases, as in that of the return of Helgi +from the dead, it is less certain, though it is probable, that there +is a direct relation between the two kinds of poetry, between the old +Northern poem of Helgi and the Danish ballad of Sir Aage which has the +same story to tell; but a comparison of the two styles, in a case like +this, is none the less possible and justifiable. + +The poems in the older form and diction, however remote they may be +from modern fashions, assert themselves unmistakably to be of an +aristocratic and not a popular tradition. The ballads have many things +in common with the other poems, but they have lost the grand style, +and the pride and solemnity of language. One thing they have retained +almost invariably. Ballad poetry may be trusted to preserve the sense +of the tragic situation. If some ballads are less strong than others +in their rendering of a traditional story, their failure is not +peculiar to that kind of composition. Not every ballad-singer, and not +every tragic poet, has the same success in the development of his +fable. As a rule, however, it holds good that the ballads are sound in +their conception of a story; if some are constitutionally weak or +unshapely, and others have suffered from the infirmity of reciters and +transcribers, these accidents are not to be counted against the class +of poetry to which they belong. Yet, however well the ballads may give +the story, they cannot give it with the power of epic; and that this +power belongs to the older kind of verse, the verse of the _Lay of +Brynhild_, may be proved with all the demonstration that this kind of +argument allows. It is open to any one to say that the grand style is +less attractive than the charm of the ballad burdens, that the airy +music of the ballads is more appealing and more mysterious than all +the eloquence of heroic poetry; but that does not touch the question. +The rhetoric of the older poems merely claims to be acknowledged for +what it is worth. + +The Danish ballad of _Ungen Sveidal_, "Child Sveidal,"[30] does not +spoil the ancient story which had been given in the older language and +older verse of _Svipdag and Menglad_. But there are different ways of +describing how the adventurer comes to the dark tower to rescue the +unknown maiden. The ballad uses the common ballad forms, the common +easy rhymes and assonances:-- + + Out they cast their anchor + All on the white sea sand, + And who was that but the Child Sveidal + Was first upon the land? + + His heart is sore with deadly pain + For her that he never saw, + His name is the Child Sveidal; + So the story goes. + +[Footnote 30: Grundtvig, _Danmarks gamle Folkeviser_, No. 70. See +above, p. 114.] + +This sort of story need not be despised, and it is peculiarly valuable +when it appears in the middle of one of the least refreshing seasons +of literature, like this ballad in the age of the Lutheran Reformation +in Denmark. In such an age and among theological tracts and +controversies, the simple ballad measures may bring relief from +oppression and desolation; and call for thanks to the Danish ladies by +whose care this ballad and so many others were written down. But +gratitude need not conceal the truth, that the style of the ballad is +unlike the style of an heroic poem. The older poem from which _Child +Sveidal_ is derived may have left many poetical opportunities +unemployed; it comes short in many things, and makes up for them by +mythological irrelevances. But it is composed in a style of which it +is impossible to mistake the gravity; it has all the advantage of +established forms that have been tested and are able to bear the +weight of the poetical matter. There is a vast difference between the +simplicity of the ballad and the stately measure and rhetorical pomp +of the original:-- + + Svipdag is my name; Sunbright was my Father's name; + The winds have driven me far, along cold ways; + No one can gainsay the word of Fate, + Though it be spoken to his own destruction. + +The difference is as great as the difference between the ballad of the +_Marriage of Gawayne_ and the same story as told in the _Canterbury +Tales_; or the difference between Homer's way of describing the +recovery of lifted cattle and the ballad of _Jamie Telfer of the Fair +Dodheid_. + +It happens fortunately that one of the Danish ballads, _Sivard og +Brynild_, which tells of the death of Sigurd (_Danmarks gamle +Folkeviser_, No. 3), is one of the best of the ballads, in all the +virtues of that style, so that a comparison with the _Lay of +Brynhild_, one of the best poems of the old collection, is not unfair +to either of them. + +The ballad of _Sivard_, like the _Lay of Brynhild_, includes much more +than an episode; it is a complete tragic poem, indicating all the +chief points of the story. The tragic idea is different from that of +any of the other versions of the Volsung story, but quite as distinct +and strong as any. + + + SIVARD + + (_O the King's Sons of Denmark!_) + + Sivard has a horse that is fleet, and he has stolen Brynild + from the Mountain of Glass, all by the light of day. From + the Mountain of Glass he has stolen proud Brynild, and given + her to Hagen, his brother-in-arms. Brynild and Signild went + to the river shore to wash their silken gowns. "Signild, my + sister, where got you the golden rings on your hand?"--"The + gold rings on my hand I got from Sivard, my own true love; + they are his pledge of troth: and you are given to Hagen." + When Brynild heard this she went into the upper room and lay + there sick: there she lay sick and Hagen came to her. "Tell + me, maiden Brynild, my own true love, what is there in the + world to heal you; tell me, and I will bring it, though it + cost all the world's red gold."--"Nothing in the world you + can bring me, unless you bring me, into my hands, the head + of Sivard."--"And how shall I bring to your hands the head + of Sivard? There is not the sword in all the world that will + bite upon him: no sword but his own, and that I cannot + get."--"Go to his room, and bid him lend you his sword, for + his honour, and say, 'I have vowed an adventure for the sake + of my true love.' When first he hands you over his sword, I + pray you remember me, in the Lord God's name." It is Hagen + that has swept his mantle round him, and goes into the upper + room to Sivard. "Here you sit, Sivard, my foster-brother; + will you lend me your good sword for your honour? for I have + vowed a vow for the sake of my love."--"And if I lend you my + good sword Adelbring, you will never come in battle where it + will fail you. My good sword Adelbring you may have, indeed, + but keep you well from the tears of blood that are under the + hilt, keep you from the tears of blood that are so red.[31] + If they run down upon your fingers, it will be your death." + + Hagen got the sword, and it was his own sworn brother he + slew there in the room. He took up the bloody head under his + cloak of furs and brought it to proud Brynild. "Here you + have the head for which you sought; for the sake of you I + have slain my brother to my undoing."--"Take away the head + and let me not see it; nor will I pledge you my troth to + make you glad."--"Never will I pledge troth to you, and + nought is the gladness; for the sake of you I have slain my + brother; sorrow is on me, sore and great." It was Hagen drew + his sword and took the proud Brynild and hewed her asunder. + He set the sword against a stone, and the point was deadly + in the King's son's heart. He set the sword in the black + earth, and the point was death in the King's son's heart. + Ill was the day that maiden was born. For her were spilt the + lives of two King's sons. (_O the King's Sons of Denmark!_) + +[Footnote 31: Compare the warning of Angantyr to Hervor when he gives +her the sword Tyrfing--"Keep the sword sheathed, the slayer of +Hialmar; touch not the edges, there is venom upon them"--and the magic +sword Skofnung in _Kormaks Saga_.] + +This is a consistent tragic story, and it is well told. It has the +peculiar virtue of the ballad, to make things impressive by the sudden +manner in which they are spoken of and passed by; in this abrupt mode +of narrative the ballads, as has been noted already, are not much +different from the earlier poems. The _Lay of Brynhild_ is not much +more diffuse than the ballad of _Sivard_ in what relates to the +slaying of the hero. Both are alike distinct from the method of Homer; +compared with Homer both the lays and the ballads are hurried in their +action, over-emphatic, cramped in a narrow space. But when the style +and temper are considered, apart from the incidents of the story, then +it will appear that the lay belongs to a totally different order of +literature from the ballad. The ballad tells of things dimly +discerned by the poet; king's sons and daughters are no more to him +than they are to the story-tellers of the market-place--forms of a +shadowy grandeur, different from ordinary people, swayed by strange +motives, not irrationally, nor altogether in a way beyond the +calculation of simple audiences, yet in ways for which there is no +adequate mode of explanation known to the reciter. The ballad keeps +instinctively a right outline for its tragic story, but to develop the +characters is beyond its power. In the epic _Lay of Brynhild_, on the +other hand, the poet is concerned with passions which he feels himself +able to comprehend and to set forth dramatically; so that, while the +story of the poem is not very much larger in scale than that of the +ballad, the dramatic speeches are greatly elaborated. Brynhild in the +lay is not a mere tragic symbol, as in the ballad, but a tragic +character. The ballad has the seed of tragedy in it, but in the lay +the seed has sprung up in the dramatic eloquence of Brynhild's +utterances before her death. The ballad is tragical, but in an +abstract manner. The plot of the slighted woman and her vengeance, +with the remorse of Hagen, is all true, and not exaggerated in motive. +But while the motives are appreciated, it is not in the power of the +poet to develop the exposition of them, to make them dramatically +characteristic, as well as right in their general nature. It is just +this dramatic ideal which is the ambition and inspiration of the other +poet; the character of Brynhild has taken possession of his +imagination, and requires to be expressed in characteristic speech. A +whole poetical world is open to the poet of Brynhild, and to the other +poets of the Northern heroic cycle. They have taken the first day's +journey into the empire of Homer and Shakespeare; the forms of poetry +that they employ are varied and developed by them so as to express as +fully as possible the poetical conception of different individual +characters. It is not easy to leave them without the impression that +their poetry was capable of infinitely greater progress in this +direction; that some at least of the poets of the North were "bearers +of the torch" in their generation, not less than the poets of Provence +or France who came after them and led the imagination of Christendom +into another way. That is, it is possible to think of the poets of +Sigurd and Brynhild as holding among the Northern nations of the tenth +or eleventh century the place that is held in every generation by some +set of authors who, for the time, are at the head of intellectual and +literary adventure, who hold authority, from Odin or the Muses, to +teach their contemporaries one particular kind of song, till the time +comes when their vogue is exhausted, and they are succeeded by other +masters and other schools. This commission has been held by various +kinds of author since the beginning of history, and manifold are the +lessons that have been recommended to the world by their authority; +now epic, now courtly and idealist lyric, romantic drama, pedantic +tragedy, funeral orations, analytical novels. They are not all +amusing, and not all their prices are more than the rate of an old +song. But they all have a value as trophies, as monuments of what was +most important in their time, of the things in which the generations, +wise and foolish, have put their trust and their whole soul. The +ballads have not this kind of importance; the ballad poets are remote +from the lists where the great champions overthrow one another, where +poet takes the crown from poet. The ballads, by their very nature, are +secluded and apart from the great literary enterprises; it is the +beauty of them that they are exempt from the proclamations and the +arguments, the shouting and the tumult, the dust and heat, that +accompany the great literary triumphs and make epochs for the +historians, as in the day of _Cléopatre_, or the day of _Hernani_. The +ballad has no weight of responsibility upon it; it does not carry the +intellectual light of its century; its authors are easily satisfied. +In the various examples of the Teutonic alliterative poetry there is +recognisable the effort and anxiety of poets who are not content with +old forms, who have a poetical vocation to go on and find out new +forms, who are on the search for the "one grace above the rest," by +which all the chief poets are led. The remains of this poetry are so +many experiments, which, in whatever respects they may have failed, +yet show the work and energy of authors who are proud of their art, as +well as the dignity of men who are familiar with greatness and great +actions: in both which respects they differ from the ballad poets. The +spell of the popular story, the popular ballad, is not quite the same +as theirs. Theirs is more commanding; they are nearer to the strenuous +life of the world than are the simple people who remember, over their +fires of peat, the ancient stories of the wanderings of kings' sons. +They have outgrown the stage of life for which the fables and old +wives' tales are all-sufficient; they have begun to make a difference +between fable and characters; they have entered on a way by which the +highest poetical victories are attainable. The poetry of the old lays +of the Volsungs, as compared with popular ballads and tales, is +"weighty and philosophical"--full of the results of reflection on +character. Nor have they with all this lost the inexplicable magic of +popular poetry, as the poems of Helgi and Sigrun, and of the daughter +of Angantyr, and others, may easily prove. + + +IV + +THE STYLE OF THE POEMS + +The style of the poems, in what concerns their verse and diction, is +not less distinctly noble than their spirit and temper. The +alliterative verse, wherever it is found, declares itself as belonging +to an elaborate poetical tradition. The alliterative line is +rhetorically capable of a great amount of emphasis; it lends itself as +readily as the "drumming decasyllabon" of the Elizabethan style to +pompous declamation. Parallelism of phrases, the favourite rhetorical +device, especially with the old English poets, is incompatible with +tenuity of style; while the weight of the verse, as a rule, prevents +the richness of phrasing from becoming too extravagant and +frivolous.[32] + +[Footnote 32: Examples in Appendix, Note A.] + +The style of alliterative verse is not monotonous. Without reckoning +the forms that deviate from the common epic measure, such as the +Northern lyrical staves, there may be found in it as many varieties of +style as in English blank verse from the days of _Gorboduc_ onward. + +In its oldest common form it may be supposed that the verse was not +distinctly epic or lyric; lyric rather than epic, lyric with such +amount of epic as is proper for psalms of triumph, or for the praise +of a king, the kind of verse that might be used for any sort of +_carmina_, such as for marking authorship and ownership on a sword or +a horn, for epitaphs or spells, or for vituperative epigrams. + +In England and the Continent the verse was early adapted for +continuous history. The lyrical and gnomic usages were not abandoned. +The poems of _Widsith_ and _Deor's Lament_ show how the allusive and +lyrical manner of referring to heroic legend was kept up in England. +The general tendency, however, seems to have favoured a different kind +of poetry. The common form of old English verse is fitted for +narrative. The ideal of the poets is one that would have the sense +"variously drawn out from one verse to another." When the verse is +lyrical in tone, as in the _Dream of the Rood_, or the _Wanderer_, the +lyrical passion is commonly that of mourning or regret, and the +expression is elegiac and diffuse, not abrupt or varied. The verse, +whether narrative or elegiac, runs in rhythmical periods; the sense is +not "concluded in the couplet." The lines are mortised into one +another; by preference, the sentences begin in the middle of a line. +The parallelism of the old poetry, and its wealth of paraphrase, +encourage deliberation in the sentences, though they are often +interrupted by a short sentence, generally introduced to point a +moral. + +The old Norse poetry, with many likenesses to the old English, had a +different taste in rhetorical syntax. Instead of the long-drawn +phrases of the English poetry, and an arrangement of sentences by +which the metrical limits of the line were generally disguised, the +Norse alliterative poetry adopted a mode of speech that allowed the +line to ring out clearly, and gave full force to the natural emphasis +of the rhythm. + +These two opposite rhetorical tendencies are illustrated also by the +several variations upon the common rhythm that found favour in one +region and the other. Where an English or a German alliterative poet +wishes to vary from the common metre, he uses the lengthened line, an +expansion of the simple line, which, from its volume, is less suitable +for pointed expression, and more capable of pathos or solemnity, than +the ordinary form of verse. The long line of the Saxon and English +poets is not used in the Norse poetry; there the favourite verse, +where the ordinary narrative line is discarded, is in the form of +gnomic couplets, in which, as in the classical elegiac measure, a full +line is succeeded by a truncated or broken rhythm, and with the same +effect of clinching the meaning of the first line as is commonly given +by the Greek or Latin pentameter. Of this favourite Northern measure +there are only one or two casual and sporadic instances in English +poetry; in the short dramatic lyric of the _Exeter Book_, interpreted +so ingeniously by Mr. Bradley and Mr. Gollancz, and in the gnomic +verses of the same collection. + +This difference of taste goes very far to explain the difference +between English and Norse epic; to appreciate the difference of style +is to understand the history of the early poetry. It was natural that +the more equable form of the English and the Continental German +narrative poetry should prove itself fit for extended and continuous +epic narrative; it was inevitable that the Norse intolerance of tame +expression, and of everything unimpassioned or unemphatic, should +prevent the growth of any of the larger and slower kinds of poetry. + +The triumphs of alliterative poetry in the first or English kind are +the long swelling passages of tragic monologue, of which the greatest +is in the Saxon _Genesis_,--the speech of Satan after the fall from +heaven. The best of the Northern poetry is all but lyrical; the poem +of the Sibyl, the poems of Sigrun, Gudrun, Hervor. + +The nature of the two forms of poetry is revealed in their respective +manners of going wrong. The decline of the old English poetry is shown +by an increase of diffuseness and insipidity. The old Norse poetry was +attacked by an evil of a different sort, the malady of false wit and +over-decoration. The English poetry, when it loses strength and +self-control, is prone to monotonous lamentation; the Norse poetry is +tempted to overload itself with conceits. + +In the one there is excess of sentiment, in the other the contrary +vice of frigidity, and a premeditated and ostentatious use of +figurative expressions. + +The poem of _Beowulf_ has known the insidious approach and temptation +of diffuse poetic melancholy. The Northern poems are corrupted by the +vanity of metaphor. To evade the right term for everything has been +the aim of many poetic schools; it has seldom been attained more +effectually than in the poetry of the Norwegian tongue. + +Periphrastic epithets are part of the original and common stock of the +Teutonic poetry. They form a large part of the vocabulary of common +phrases which bear witness to the affinity existing among the remains +of this poetry in all the dialects.[33] + +[Footnote 33: Compare the index to Sievers's edition of the _Hęliand_ +for illustrations of this community of poetical diction in old Saxon, +English, Norse, and High German; and J. Grimm, _Andreas und Elene_ +(1840), pp. xxv.-xliv.] + +But this common device was differently applied in the end, by the two +literatures, English and Icelandic, in which the old forms of verse +held their ground longest against the rhyming forms. The tendency in +England was to make use of the well-worn epithets, to ply the +_Gradus_: the duller kind of Anglo-Saxon poetry is put together as +Latin verses are made in school,--an old-fashioned metaphor is all the +more esteemed for its age. The poets, and presumably their hearers, +are best content with familiar phrases. In Iceland, on the other hand, +there was an impatience of the old vocabulary, and a curiosity and +search for new figures, that in the complexity and absurdity of its +results is not approached by any school of "false wit" in the whole +range of literature. + +Already in the older forms of Northern poetry it is plain that there +is a tendency to lyrical emphasis which is unfavourable to the chances +of long narrative in verse. Very early, also, there are symptoms of +the familiar literary plague, the corruption of metaphor. Both these +tendencies have for their result the new school of poetry peculiar to +the North and the courts of the Northern kings and earls,--the Court +poetry, or poetry of the Scalds, which in its rise and progress +involved the failure of true epic. The German and English epic failed +by exhaustion in the competition with Latin and Romance literature, +though not without something to boast of before it went under. The +Northern epic failed, because of the premature development of lyrical +forms, first of all within itself, and then in the independent and +rival modes of the Scaldic poetry. + +The Scaldic poetry, though later in kind than the poems of _Codex +Regius_, is at least as old as the tenth century;[34] the latest of +the epic poems, _Atlamál_ (the Greenland poem of Attila), and others, +show marks of the influence of Court poetry, and are considerably +later in date than the earliest of the Scalds. + +[Footnote 34: See _Bidrag til den ćldste Skaldedigtnings Historie_, by +Dr. Sophus Bugge (1894).] + +The Court poetry is lyric, not epic. The aim of the Court poets was +not the narrative or the dramatic presentation of the greater heroic +legends; it was the elaborate decoration of commonplace themes, such +as the praise of a king, by every possible artifice of rhyme and +alliteration, of hard and exact construction of verse, and, above all, +of far-sought metaphorical allusions. In this kind of work, in the +praise of kings alive or dead, the poet was compelled to betake +himself to mythology and mythical history, like the learned poets of +other nations with their mythology of Olympus. In the mythology of +Asgard were contained the stores of precious names and epithets by +means of which the poems might be made to glitter and blaze.[35] It +was for the sake of poets like these that Snorri wrote his _Edda_, and +explained the mythical references available for the modern poetry of +his time, though fortunately his spirit and talent were not limited to +this didactic end, nor to the pedantries and deadly brilliance of +fashionable verse. By the time of Snorri the older kind of poetry had +become very much what Chaucer was to the Elizabethan sonneteers, or +Spenser to the contemporaries of Pope. It was regarded with some +amount of honour, and some condescension, but it had ceased to be the +right kind of poetry for a "courtly maker." + +[Footnote 35: Compare _C.P.B._, ii. 447, Excursus on the Figures and +Metaphors of old Northern Poetry.] + +The Northern poetry appears to have run through some of the same +stages as the poetry of Greece, though with insufficient results in +most of them. The epic poetry is incomplete, with all its nobility. +The best things of the old poetry are dramatic--lyrical monologues, +like the song of the Sibyl, and Gudrun's story to Theodoric, or +dialogues like those of Helgi and Sigrun, Hervor and Angantyr. Before +any adequate large rendering had been accorded to those tragic +histories, the Northern poetry, in its impatience of length, had +discovered the idyllic mode of expression and the dramatic monologue, +in which there was no excuse for weakness and tameness, and, on the +contrary, great temptation to excess in emphatic and figurative +language. Instead of taking a larger scene and a more complex and +longer story, the poets seem to have been drawn more and more to cut +short the story and to intensify the lyrical passion of their dialogue +or monologue. Almost as if they had known the horror of infinite +flatness that is all about the literature of the Middle Ages, as if +there had fallen upon them, in that Aleďan plain, the shadow of the +enormous beast out of Aristotle's _Poetics_, they chose to renounce +all superfluity, and throw away the makeshift wedges and supports by +which an epic is held up. In this way they did great things, and +_Volospá_ (the _Sibyl's Prophecy_) is their reward. To write out in +full the story of the Volsungs and Niblungs was left to the prose +compilers of the _Volsunga Saga_, and to the Austrian poet of the +_Nibelungenlied_. + +The _Volospá_ is as far removed from the courtly odes and their manner +and ingenuity as the _Marriage Hymn_ of Catullus from the _Coma +Berenices_. The _Volospá_, however, has this in common with the +mechanical odes, that equally with these it stands apart from epic, +that equally with these it fuses epic material into an alien form. The +sublimity of this great poem of the _Doom_ is not like the majesty or +strength of epic. The voice is not the voice of a teller of stories. +And it is here, not in true epic verse, that the Northern poetry +attains its height. + +It is no ignoble form of poetry that is represented by the _Sibyl's +Song_ and the _Lament of Gudrun_. But it was not enough for the +ambition of the poets. They preferred the composition of correct and +elaborate poems in honour of great men, with much expenditure of +mythology and without passion;[36] one of the forms of poetry which +may be truly said to leave nothing to be desired, the most artificial +and mechanical poetry in the world, except possibly the +closely-related kinds in the traditional elaborate verse of Ireland or +of Wales. + +[Footnote 36: These may be found in the second volume of the _Corpus +Poeticum Boreale_.] + +It was still possible to use this modern and difficult rhetoric, +occasionally, for subjects like those of the freer epic; to choose a +subject from heroic tradition and render it in the fashionable style. +The _Death-Song of Ragnar Lodbrok_[37] is the chief of those secondary +dramatic idylls. It is marked off by difference of verse, for one +thing, from the _Hamđismál_ and the _Atlakviđa_; and, besides this, it +has the characteristic of imitative and conventional heroic +literature--the unpersuasive and unconvincing force of the heroic +romance, the rhetoric of Almanzor. The end of the poem is fine, but it +does not ring quite true:-- + + The gods will welcome me; there is nothing to bewail in + death. I am ready to go; they are calling me home, the + maidens whom Odin has sent to call me. With gladness will I + drink the ale, set high among the gods. The hours of life + are gone over; laughing will I die. + +[Footnote 37: _C.P.B._, ii. 339.] + +It is not like the end of the sons of Gudrun; it is not of the same +kind as the last words of Sorli, which are simpler, and infinitely +more imaginative and true:-- + + We have fought; if we die to-day, if we die to-morrow, there + is little to choose. No man may speak when once the Fates + have spoken (_Hamđismál_, s.f.). + +It is natural that the _Song of Ragnar Lodbrok_ should be appreciated +by modern authors. It is one of the documents responsible for the +conventional Valkyria and Valhalla of the Romantic School, and for +other stage properties, no longer new. The poem itself is in spirit +rather more nearly related to the work of Tegnér or Oehlenschläger +than to the _Volospá_. It is a secondary and literary version, a +"romantic" version of ideas and images belonging to a past time, and +studied by an antiquarian poet with an eye for historical +subjects.[38] + +[Footnote 38: Translated in Percy's _Runic Poetry_ (1763), p. 27, and +often since.] + +The progress of epic was not at an end in the rise of the new Court +poetry that sounded sweeter in the ears of mortals than the old poems +of _Sigurd_ and _Brynhild_. The conceits and the hard correctness of +the Scalds did not satisfy all the curiosity or the imaginative +appetite of their patrons. There still remained a desire for epic, or +at least for a larger and freer kind of historical discourse. This was +satisfied by the prose histories of the great men of Iceland, of the +kings of Norway and the lords of the Isles; histories the nearest to +true epic of all that have ever been spoken without verse. That the +chief of all the masters of this art should have been Snorri +Sturluson, the exponent and practitioner of the mystery of the Court +poets, is among the pleasantest of historical paradoxes. + +The development of the Court poetry to all extremes of "false wit," +and of glaring pretence and artificiality of style, makes the contrast +all the more vivid between its brocaded stiffness and the ease and +freedom of the Sagas. But even apart from the Court poetry, it is +clear that there was little chance for any development of the Northern +heroic poetry into an Homeric fulness of detail. In the Norse poetry, +as in Greek, the primitive forms of heroic dirges or hymns give place +to narrative poetry; and that again is succeeded by a new kind of +lyric, in which the ancient themes of the _Lament_ and the _Song of +Praise_ are adorned with the new ideas and the new diction of poets +who have come to study novelty, and have entered, though with far +other arms and accoutrements, on the same course as the Greek lyric +authors of dithyrambs and panegyrical odes. In this progress of poetry +from the unknown older songs, like those of which Tacitus speaks, to +the epic form as it is preserved in the "Elder Edda," and from the +epic form to the lyrical form of the Scalds, the second stage is +incomplete; the epic form is uncertain and half-developed. The rise of +the Court poetry is the most obvious explanation of this failure. The +Court poetry, with all its faults, is a completed form which had its +day of glory, and even rather more than its share of good fortune. It +is the characteristic and successful kind of poetry in Iceland and +Norway, just as other kinds of elaborate lyric were cultivated, to the +depreciation of epic, in Provence and in Italy. It was to the Court +poet that the prizes were given; the epic form was put out of favour, +generations before the fragments of it were gathered together and +preserved by the collector from whose books they have descended to the +extant manuscripts and the editions of the "Elder Edda." + +But at the same time it may be represented that the Court poetry was +as much effect as cause of the depreciation of epic. The lyrical +strain declared itself in the Northern epic poetry too strongly for +any such epic work as either _Beowulf_ or the _Hęliand_. The bent was +given too early, and there was no recovery possible. The Court poetry, +in its rhetorical brilliance and its allusive phrases, as well as in +the hardness and correctness of its verse, is carrying out to +completion certain tastes and principles whose influence is manifest +throughout the other orders of old Northern poetry; and there is no +need to go to the Court poetry to explain the difference between the +history of Northern and of English alliterative verse, though it is by +means of the Court poetry that this difference may be brought into the +strongest light. The contrast between the English liking for +continuous discourse and the Norse liking for abrupt emphasis is +already to be discerned in the oldest literary documents of the two +nations. + + +V + +THE PROGRESS OF EPIC + +VARIOUS RENDERINGS OF THE SAME STORY + + Due (1) to accidents of tradition and impersonal causes: + (2) to calculation and selection of motives by the poets, + and intentional modification of traditional matter. + +_Beowulf_, as the poem stands, is quite a different sort of thing from +the poems in the Copenhagen manuscript. It is given out by its scribes +in all the glory of a large poem, handsomely furnished with a prelude, +a conclusion, and divisions into several books. It has the look of a +substantial epic poem. It was evidently regarded as something +considerable, as a work of eminent virtue and respectability. The +Northern poems, treasured and highly valued as they evidently were, +belong to a different fashion. In the _Beowulf_ of the existing +manuscript the fluctuation and variation of the older epic tradition +has been controlled by editors who have done their best to establish a +text of the poem. The book has an appearance of authority. There is +little of this in the Icelandic manuscript. The Northern poems have +evidently been taken as they were found. Imperfections of tradition, +which in _Beowulf_ would have been glossed over by an editorial +process, are here left staring at the reader. The English poem +pretends to be a literary work of importance--a book, in short; while +the Icelandic verses are plainly gathered from all quarters, and in +such a condition as to defy the best intentions of the editor, who did +his best to understand what he heard, but had no consistent policy of +improvement or alteration, to correct the accidental errors and +discrepancies of the oral communications. + +Further, and apart from the accidents of this particular book, there +is in the poems, even when they are best preserved, a character of +fluctuation and uncertainty, belonging to an older and less literary +fashion of poetry than that of _Beowulf_. + +_Beowulf_ has been regarded by some as a composite epic poem made out +of older and shorter poems. _Codex Regius_ shows that this hypothesis +is dealing with an undoubted _vera causa_ when it talks of short lays +on heroic subjects, and of the variations of treatment to be found in +different lays on one and the same theme, and of the possibilities of +contamination. + +Thus, in considering the story of Beowulf's descent under water, and +the difficulties and contradictions of that story as it stands, Ten +Brink has been led to suppose that the present text is made up of two +independent versions, run together by an editor in a hazardous way +without regard to the differences in points of detail, which still +remain to the annoyance of the careful reader. + +There is no great risk in the assumption that there were different +versions of the fight with Grendel's mother, which may have been +carelessly put together into one version in spite of their +contradictions. In the _Codex Regius_ there are three different +versions of the death of the Niblungs, the _Atlakviđa_, _Atlamál_, +and the _Lament of Oddrun_. The _Lament of Oddrun_ is vitally +different from the other two poems, and these differ from one another, +with regard to the motive of Atli's feud with Gunnar. It is possible +for the human mind to imagine an editor, a literary man, capable of +blending the poems in order to make a larger book. This would be +something like the process which Ten Brink has suspected in the +composition of this part of _Beowulf_. It is one thing, however, to +detect the possibility of such misdemeanours; and quite another thing +to suppose that it is by methods such as these that the bulk of the +larger epic is swollen beyond the size of common lays or ballads. It +is impossible, at any rate, by any reduction or analysis of _Beowulf_, +to get rid of its stateliness of narrative; it would be impossible by +any fusion or aggregation of the Eddic lays to get rid of their +essential brevity. No accumulation of lays can alter the style from +its trick of detached and abrupt suggestions to the slower and more +equable mode. + +That there was a growth of epic among the Teutonic nations is what is +proved by all the documents. This growth was of the same general kind +as the progress of any of the great forms of literature--the Drama, +the Novel. Successive generations of men, speaking the same or similar +forms of language, made poetical experiments in a common +subject-manner, trying different ways of putting things, and changing +their forms of poetry according to local and personal variations of +taste; so that the same story might be told over and over again, in +different times, with different circumstances. + +In one region the taste might be all for compression, for increase of +the tension, for suppression of the tamer intervals in the story. In +another it might run to greater length and ease, and favour a gradual +explication of the plot. + +The "Elder Edda" shows that contamination was possible. It shows that +there might be frequent independent variations on the same theme, and +that, apart from any editorial work, these versions might occasionally +be shuffled and jumbled by mere accidents of recollection. + +Thus there is nothing contrary to the evidence in the theory that a +redactor of _Beowulf_ may have had before him different versions of +different parts of the poem, corresponding to one another, more or +less, as _Atlamál_ corresponds to the _Atlakviđa_. This hypothesis, +however, does not account for the difference in form between the +English and the Northern poems. No handling of the _Atlamál_ or the +_Atlakviđa_ could produce anything like the appearance of _Beowulf_. +The contaminating editor may be useful as an hypothesis in certain +particular cases. But the heroic poetry got on very well without him, +generally speaking. It grew by a free and natural growth into a +variety of forms, through the ambitions and experiments of poets. + +Variety is evident in the poems that lie outside the Northern group; +_Finnesburh_ is of a different order from _Waldere_. It is in the +Northern collection, however, that the variety is most evident. There +the independent versions of the same story are brought together, side +by side. The experiments of the old school are ranged there; and the +fact that experiments were made, that the old school was not satisfied +with its conventions, is perhaps the most legitimate inference, and +one of the most significant, to be made by a reader of the poems. + +Variations on similar themes are found in all popular poetry; here +again the poems of the _Edda_ present themselves as akin to ballads. +Here again they are distinguished from ballads by their greater degree +of ambition and self-consciousness. For it will not do to dismiss the +Northern poems on the Volsung story as a mere set of popular +variations on common themes. The more carefully they are examined, the +less will be the part assigned to chance and imperfect recollection in +producing the variety of the poems. The variation, where there are +different presentations of the same subject, is not produced by +accident or the casual and faulty repetition of a conventional type of +poem, but by a poetical ambition for new forms. _Codex Regius_ is an +imperfect monument of a time of poetical energy in which old forms +were displaced by new, and old subjects refashioned by successive +poets. As in the Athenian or the English drama the story of Oedipus or +of Lear might be taken up by one playwright after another, so in the +North the Northern stories were made to pass through changes in the +minds of different poets. + +The analogy to the Greek and the English drama need not be forced. +Without any straining of comparisons, it may be argued that the +relation of the _Atlamál_ and _Atlakviđa_ is like the relation of +Euripides to Aeschylus, and not so much like the variations of ballad +tradition, in this respect, that the _Atlamál_ is a careful, +deliberate, and somewhat conceited attempt to do better in a new way +what has been done before by an older poet. The idylls of the +heroines, Brynhild, Gudrun, Oddrun, are not random and unskilled +variations; they are considerate and studied poems, expressing new +conceptions and imaginations. + +It is true that this poetry is still, in many respects, in the +condition of popular poetry and popular traditional stories. The +difference of plot in some versions of the same subject appears to be +due to the ordinary causes that produce the variants of popular +tales,--defective memory, accidental loss of one point in the story, +and change of emphasis in another. To causes such as these, to the +common impersonal accidents of tradition, may perhaps be referred one +of the strangest of all the alterations in the bearing of a story--the +variation of plot in the tradition of the Niblungs. + +In the "Elder Edda" the death of the Niblungs is laid to the charge of +Attila; their sister Gudrun does her best to save them; when she fails +in this, she takes vengeance for them on her husband. + +In the German tradition, as in the version known to Saxo in the +_Nibelungenlied_, in the Danish ballad of _Grimild's Revenge_ (which +is borrowed from the German), the lines are laid quite differently. +There it is their sister who brings about the death of the kings; it +is the wife of Sigfred, of Sigfred whom they have killed, that exacts +vengeance from her brothers Gunther and Hagene. Attila is here put +aside. Gudrun's slaughter of her children is unrecorded; there is no +motive for it when all her anger is turned against her brothers. This +shifting of the centre of a story is not easy to explain. But, +whatever the explanation may be, it seems probable that it lies +somewhere within the range of popular tradition, that the change is +due to some of the common causes of the transformation of stories, and +not to a definite and calculated poetical modification. The tragical +complications are so many in the story of the Niblungs that there +could not fail to be variations in the traditional interpretation of +motives, even without the assistance of the poets and their new +readings of character. + +In some of the literary documents there may be found two kinds of +variation from an original form of story,--variation due to those +popular and indefinite causes, the variation of failing memory, on the +one hand; and on the other, variation due to the ambition or conceit +of an author with ideas of his own. + +A comparison of the _Atlakviđa_, the _Atlamál_, and the _Lamentation +of Oddrun_ may at first suggest that we have here to deal with just +such variants as are common wherever stories are handed on by oral +tradition. Further consideration will more and more reduce the part +allotted to oral maltreatment, and increase the part of intentional +and artistic modification, in the variations of story to be found in +these poems. + +All three poems are agreed in their ignorance of the variation which +makes the wife of Sigfred into the avenger of his death. In all three +it is Attila who brings about the death of the brothers of Gudrun. + +It seems to have been a constant part of the traditional story, as +known to the authors of these three poems, that Attila, when he had +the brothers of Gudrun in his power, gave order to cut out the heart +of Hogni, and thereafter to throw Gunnar into the serpents' den. + +The _Atlakviđa_ presents an intelligible explanation of this; the +other two poems leave this part of the action rather vague. + +In the _Atlakviđa_ the motive of Attila's original hatred is left at +first unexplained, but comes out in the circumstances of the death of +the Niblungs. When the Burgundian kings are seized and bound, they are +called upon to buy themselves off with gold. It is understood in +Gunnar's reply, that the gold of the Niblung treasure is what is +sought for. He asks that the heart of Hogni may be brought to him. +They bring him, instead, the heart of Hialli, which Gunnar detects at +once as the heart of a coward. Then at last the heart of Hogni is cut +out and brought to Gunnar; and then he defies the Huns, and keeps his +secret. + + Now is the hoard of the Niblungs all in my keeping alone, + for Hogni is dead: there was doubt while we two lived, but + now there is doubt no more. Rhine shall bear rule over the + gold of jealousy, the eager river over the Niblung's + heritage; the goodly rings shall gleam in the whirling + water, they shall not pass to the children of the Huns. + +Gunnar was thrown among the snakes, and there he harped upon his harp +before his death came on him. The end of Gunnar is not told +explicitly; the story goes on to the vengeance of Gudrun. + +In the _Oddrúnargrátr_ there is another motive for Attila's enmity to +Gunnar: not the gold of the Niblungs, but the love that was between +Gunnar and Oddrun (Oddrun was the sister of Attila and Brynhild). The +death of Brynhild is alluded to, but that is not the chief motive. The +gold of the Niblungs is not mentioned. Still, however, the death of +Hogni precedes the death of Gunnar,--"They cut out the heart of Hogni, +and his brother they set in the serpents' close." Gunnar played upon +his harp among the serpents, and for a long time escaped them; but the +old serpent came out at last and crawled to his heart. It is implied +that the sound of his music is a charm for the serpents; but another +motive is given by Oddrun, as she tells the story: Gunnar played on +his harp for Oddrun, to be heard by her, so that she could come to +help him. But she came too late. + +It might be inferred from this poem that the original story of the +death of Hogni has been imperfectly recollected by the poet who +touches lightly on it and gives no explanation here. It is fairer to +suppose that it was passed over because it was irrelevant. The poet +had chosen for his idyll the love of Gunnar and Oddrun, a part of the +story which is elsewhere referred to among these poems, namely in the +_Long Lay of Brynhild_ (l. 58). By his choice of this, and his +rendering of it in dramatic monologue, he debarred himself from any +emphatic use of the motive for Hogni's death. It cannot be inferred +from his explanation of Gunnar's harp-playing that the common +explanation was unknown to him. On the contrary, it is implied here, +just as much as in _Atlakviđa_, that the serpents are kept from him by +the music, until the old sleepless one gives him his death. But the +poet, while he keeps this incident of the traditional version, is not +particularly interested in it, except as it affords him a new occasion +to return to his main theme of the love story. Gunnar's music is a +message to Oddrun. This is an imaginative and dramatic adaptation of +old material, not a mere lapse of memory, not a mere loss of the +traditional bearings of the story. + +The third of these poems, the _Atlamál_, is in some respects the most +remarkable of them all. In its plot it has more than the others, at +the first reading, the appearance of a faulty recollection; for, while +it makes a good deal of play with the circumstances of the death of +Hogni, it misses, or appears to miss, the point of the story; the +motive of Gunnar, which is evident and satisfactory in the +_Atlakviđa_, is here suppressed or dropped. The gold of the Niblungs +is not in the story at all; the motive of Attila appears to be anger +at the death of his sister Brynhild, Gunnar's wife, but his motive is +not much dwelt on. It is as if the author had forgotten the run of +events, like a blundering minstrel. + +On the other hand, the poem in its style is further from all the +manners of popular poetry, more affected and rhetorical, than any of +the other pieces in the book. It is written in the _málaháttr_, a +variety of the common epic measure, with a monotonous cadence; the +sort of measure that commends itself to an ambitious and rhetorical +poet with a fancy for correctness and regularity. The poem has its +origin in an admiration for the character of Gudrun, and a desire to +bring out more fully than in the older poems the tragic thoughts and +passion of the heroine. Gudrun's anxiety for her brothers' safety, and +her warning message to them not to come to the Court of the Huns, had +been part of the old story. In the _Atlakviđa_ she sends them a token, +a ring with a wolf's hair twisted round it, which is noticed by Hogni +but not accepted by Gunnar. In the _Atlamál_ something more is made of +this; her message here is written in runes, and these are falsified on +the way by Attila's messenger, so that the warning is at first unread. +But the confusion of the runes is detected by the wife of Hogni, and +so the story opens with suspense and forebodings of the doom. The +death of Hogni and Gunnar is explained in a new way, and always with +the passion of Gudrun as the chief theme. In this story the fight of +the Niblungs and the Huns is begun outside the doors of the hall. +Gudrun hears the alarm and rushes out with a welcome to her +brothers,--"that was their last greeting,"--and a cry of lamentation +over their neglect of her runes. Then she tries to make peace, and +when she fails in that, takes up a sword and fights for her brothers. +It is out of rage and spite against Gudrun, and in order to tame her +spirit, that Attila has the heart of Hogni cut out of him, and sends +Gunnar to the serpents. + +All this change in the story is the result of meditation and not of +forgetfulness. Right or wrong, the poet has devised his story in his +own way, and his motives are easily discovered. He felt that the +vengeance of Gudrun required to be more carefully and fully explained. +Her traditional character was not quite consistent with the horrors of +her revenge. In the _Atlamál_ the character of Gudrun is so conceived +as to explain her revenge,--the killing of her children follows close +upon her fury in the battle, and the cruelty of Attila is here a +direct challenge to Gudrun, not, as in the _Atlakviđa_, a mere +incident in Attila's search for the Niblung treasure. The cruelty of +the death of Hogni in the _Atlakviđa_ is purely a matter of business; +it is not of Attila's choosing, and apparently he favours the attempt +to save Hogni by the sacrifice of Hialli the feeble man. In the +_Atlamál_ it is to save Hogni from Attila that Hialli the cook is +chased into a corner and held under the knife. This comic interlude is +one of the liveliest passages of the poem. It serves to increase the +strength of Hogni. Hogni begs them to let the creature go,--"Why +should we have to put up with his squalling?" It may be observed that +in this way the poet gets out of a difficulty. It is not in his design +to have the coward's heart offered to Gunnar; he has dropped that part +of the story entirely. Gunnar is not asked to give up the treasure, +and has no reason to protect his secret by asking for the death of his +brother; and there would be no point in keeping the incident for the +benefit of Attila. That Gunnar should first detect the imposture, and +should then recognise the heart of his brother, is a fine piece of +heroic imagination of a primitive kind. It would have been wholly +inept and spiritless to transfer this from Gunnar to Attila. The poet +of _Atlamál_ shows that he understands what he is about. The more his +work is scrutinised, the more evident becomes the sobriety of his +judgment. His dexterity in the disposing of his incidents is proved in +every particular. While a first reading of the poem and a first +comparison with the story of _Atlakviđa_ may suggest the blundering +and irresponsible ways of popular reciters, a very little attention +will serve to bring out the difference and to justify this poet. He is +not an improviser; his temptations are of another sort. He is the poet +of a second generation, one of those who make up by energy of +intelligence for their want of original and spontaneous imagination. +It is not that he is cold or dull; but there is something wanting in +the translation of his thoughts into speech. His metres are hammered +out; the precision of his verse is out of keeping with the fury of his +tragic purport. The faults are the faults of overstudy, the faults of +correctness and maturity. + +The significance of the _Atlamál_ is considerable in the history of +the Northern poetry. It may stand for the furthest mark in one +particular direction; the epic poetry of the North never got further +than this. If _Beowulf_ or _Waldere_ may perhaps represent the highest +accomplishment of epic in old English verse, the _Atlamál_ has, at +least, as good a claim in the other language. The _Atlamál_ is not the +finest of the old poems. That place belongs, without any question, to +the _Volospá_, the Sibyl's Song of the judgment; and among the others +there are many that surpass the _Atlamál_ in beauty. But the _Atlamál_ +is complete; it is a work of some compass, diligently planned and +elaborated. Further, although it has many of the marks of the new +rhetoric, these do not change its character as a narrative poem. It +is a narrative poem, not a poem of lyrical allusions, not an heroic +ode. It is at once the largest and the most harmonious in construction +of all the poems. It proves that the change of the Northern poetry, +from narrative to the courtly lyric, was a change not made without +fair opportunity to the older school to show what it was worth. The +variety of the three poems of Attila, ending in the careful rhetoric +of the _Atlamál_, is proof sufficient of the labour bestowed by +different poets in their use of the epic inheritance. Great part of +the history of the North is misread, unless account is taken of the +artistic study, the invention, the ingenuity, that went to the making +of those poems. This variety is not the confusion of barbarous +tradition, or the shifts and experiments of improvisers. The prosody +and the rhetorical furniture of the poems might prevent that +misinterpretation. It might be prevented also by an observation of the +way the matter is dealt with, even apart from the details of the +language and the style. The proof from these two quarters, from the +matter and from the style, is not easily impugned. + +So the first impression is discredited, and so it appears that the +"Elder Edda," for all its appearance of disorder, haste, and hazard, +really contains a number of specimens of art, not merely a heap of +casual and rudimentary variants. The poems of the Icelandic manuscript +assert themselves as individual and separate works. They are not the +mere makings of an epic, the mere materials ready to the hand of an +editor. It still remains true that they are defective, but it is true +also that they are the work of artists, and of a number of artists +with different aims and ideals. The earliest of them is long past the +stage of popular improvisation, and the latest has the qualities of a +school that has learned more art than is good for it. + +The defect of the Northern epic is that it allowed itself to be too +soon restricted in its scope. It became too minute, too emphatic, too +intolerant of the comfortable dilutions, the level intervals, between +the critical moments.[39] It was too much affected by the vanities of +the rival Scaldic poetry; it was overcome by rhetoric. But it cannot +be said that it went out tamely. + +[Footnote 39: There is a natural affinity to Gray's poetry in the +Icelandic poetry that he translated--compressed, emphatic, incapable +of laxity.] + + +VI + +_BEOWULF_ + +The poem of _Beowulf_ has been sorely tried; critics have long been at +work on the body of it, to discover how it is made. It gives many +openings for theories of agglutination and adulteration. Many things +in it are plainly incongruous. The pedigree of Grendel is not +authentic; the Christian sentiments and morals are not in keeping with +the heroic or the mythical substance of the poem; the conduct of the +narrative is not always clear or easy to follow. These difficulties +and contradictions have to be explained; the composition of the poem +has to be analysed; what is old has to be separated from what is new +and adventitious; and the various senses and degrees of "old" and +"new" have to be determined, in the criticism of the poem. With all +this, however, the poem continues to possess at least an apparent and +external unity. It is an extant book, whatever the history of its +composition may have been; the book of the adventures of Beowulf, +written out fair by two scribes in the tenth century; an epic poem, +with a prologue at the beginning, and a judgment pronounced on the +life of the hero at the end; a single book, considered as such by its +transcribers, and making a claim to be so considered. + +Before any process of disintegration is begun, this claim should be +taken into account; the poem deserves to be appreciated as it stands. +Whatever may be the secrets of its authorship, it exists as a single +continuous narrative poem; and whatever its faults may be, it holds a +position by itself, and a place of some honour, as the one extant poem +of considerable length in the group to which it belongs. It has a +meaning and value apart from the questions of its origin and its mode +of production. Its present value as a poem is not affected by proofs +or arguments regarding the way in which it may have been patched or +edited. The patchwork theory has no power to make new faults in the +poem; it can only point out what faults exist, and draw inferences +from them. It does not take away from any dignity the book may possess +in its present form, that it has been subjected to the same kind of +examination as the _Iliad_. The poem may be reviewed as it stands, in +order to find out what sort of thing passed for heroic poetry with the +English at the time the present copy of the poem was written. However +the result was obtained, _Beowulf_ is, at any rate, the specimen by +which the Teutonic epic poetry must be judged. It is the largest +monument extant. There is nothing beyond it, in that kind, in respect +of size and completeness. If the old Teutonic epic is judged to have +failed, it must be because _Beowulf_ is a failure. + +Taking the most cursory view of the story of _Beowulf_, it is easy to +recognise that the unity of the plot is not like the unity of the +_Iliad_ or the _Odyssey_. One is inclined at first to reckon _Beowulf_ +along with those epics of which Aristotle speaks, the _Heracleids_ and +_Theseids_, the authors of which "imagined that because Heracles was +one person the story of his life could not fail to have unity."[40] + +[Footnote 40: _Poet._ 1451 a.] + +It is impossible to reduce the poem of _Beowulf_ to the scale of +Aristotle's _Odyssey_ without revealing the faults of structure in the +English poem:-- + + A man in want of work goes abroad to the house of a certain + king troubled by Harpies, and having accomplished the + purification of the house returns home with honour. Long + afterwards, having become king in his own country, he kills + a dragon, but is at the same time choked by the venom of it. + His people lament for him and build his tomb. + +Aristotle made a summary of the Homeric poem, because he wished to +show how simple its construction really was, apart from the episodes. +It is impossible, by any process of reduction and simplification, to +get rid of the duality in _Beowulf_. It has many episodes, quite +consistent with a general unity of action, but there is something more +than episodes, there is a sequel. It is as if to the _Odyssey_ there +had been added some later books telling in full of the old age of +Odysseus, far from the sea, and his death at the hands of his son +Telegonus. The adventure with the dragon is separate from the earlier +adventures. It is only connected with them because the same person is +involved in both. + +It is plain from Aristotle's words that the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_ +were in this, as in all respects, above and beyond the other Greek +epics known to Aristotle. Homer had not to wait for _Beowulf_ to serve +as a foil to his excellence. That was provided in the other epic poems +of Greece, in the cycle of Troy, in the epic stories of Theseus and +Heracles. It seems probable that the poem of _Beowulf_ may be at least +as well knit as the _Little Iliad_, the Greek cyclic poem of which +Aristotle names the principal incidents, contrasting its variety with +the simplicity of the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_.[41] + +[Footnote 41: [Greek: toigaroun ek men Iliados kai Odysseias mia +tragôidia poieitai hekateras ę duo monai, ek de Kypriôn pollai kai tęs +mikras Iliados pleon oktô, hoion hoplôn krisis, Philoktętęs, +Neoptolemos, Eurypylos, ptôcheia, Lakainai, Iliou persis, kai apoplous +kai Sinôn kai Trôiades] (1459 b).] + +Indeed it is clear that the plan of _Beowulf_ might easily have been +much worse, that is, more lax and diffuse, than it is. This meagre +amount of praise will be allowed by the most grudging critics, if they +will only think of the masses of French epic, and imagine the extent +to which a French company of poets might have prolonged the narrative +of the hero's life--the _Enfances_, the _Chevalerie_--before reaching +the _Death of Beowulf_. + +At line 2200 in _Beowulf_ comes the long interval of time, the fifty +years between the adventure at Heorot and the fight between Beowulf +and the dragon. Two thousand lines are given to the first story, a +thousand to the _Death of Beowulf_. Two thousand lines are occupied +with the narrative of Beowulf's expedition, his voyage to Denmark, his +fight with Grendel and Grendel's mother, his return to the land of the +Gauts and his report of the whole matter to King Hygelac. In this part +of the poem, taken by itself, there is no defect of unity. The action +is one, with different parts all easily and naturally included between +the first voyage and the return. It is amplified and complicated with +details, but none of these introduce any new main interests. _Beowulf_ +is not like the _Heracleids_ and _Theseids_. It transgresses the +limits of the Homeric unity, by adding a sequel; but for all that it +is not a mere string of adventures, like the bad epic in Horace's _Art +of Poetry_, or the innocent plays described by Sir Philip Sidney and +Cervantes. A third of the whole poem is detached, a separate +adventure. The first two-thirds taken by themselves form a complete +poem, with a single action; while, in the orthodox epic manner, +various allusions and explanations are introduced regarding the past +history of the personages involved, and the history of other people +famous in tradition. The adventure at Heorot, taken by itself, would +pass the scrutiny of Aristotle or Horace, as far as concerns the lines +of its composition. + +There is variety in it, but the variety is kept in order and not +allowed to interfere or compete with the main story. The past history +is disclosed, and the subordinate novels are interpolated, as in the +_Odyssey_, in the course of an evening's conversation in hall, or in +some other interval in the action. In the introduction of accessory +matter, standing in different degrees of relevance to the main plot, +the practice of _Beowulf_ is not essentially different from that of +classical epic. + +In the _Iliad_ we are allowed to catch something of the story of the +old time before Agamemnon,--the war of Thebes, Lycurgus, Jason, +Heracles,--and even of things less widely notable, less of a concern +to the world than the voyage of Argo, such as, for instance, the +business of Nestor in his youth. In _Beowulf_, in a similar way, the +inexhaustible world outside the story is partly represented by means +of allusions and digressions. The tragedy of Finnesburh is sung by the +harper, and his song is reported at some length, not merely referred +to in passing. The stories of Thrytho, of Heremod, of Sigemund the +Wćlsing and Fitela his son (Sigmund and Sinfiotli), are introduced +like the stories of Lycurgus or of Jason in Homer. They are +illustrations of the action, taken from other cycles. The fortunes of +the Danish and Gautish kings, the fall of Hygelac, the feuds with +Sweden, these matters come into closer relation with the story. They +are not so much illustrations taken in from without, as points of +attachment between the history of _Beowulf_ and the untold history all +round it, the history of the persons concerned, along with Beowulf +himself, in the vicissitudes of the Danish and Gautish kingdoms. + +In the fragments of _Waldere_, also, there are allusions to other +stories. In _Waldere_ there has been lost a poem much longer and +fuller than the _Lay of Hildebrand_, or any of the poems of the "Elder +Edda"--a poem more like _Beowulf_ than any of those now extant. The +references to Weland, to Widia Weland's son, to Hama and Theodoric, +are of the same sort as the references in _Beowulf_ to the story of +Froda and Ingeld, or the references in the _Iliad_ to the adventures +of Tydeus. + +In the episodic passages of _Beowulf_ there are, curiously, the same +degrees of relevance as in the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_. + +Some of them are necessary to the proper fulness of the story, though +not essential parts of the plot. Such are the references to Beowulf's +swimming-match; and such, in the _Odyssey_, is the tale told to +Alcinous. + +The allusions to the wars of Hygelac have the same value as the +references in the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_ to such portions of the +tale of Troy, and of the return of the Greek lords, as are not +immediately connected with the anger of Achilles, or the return of +Odysseus. The tale of _Finnesburh_ in _Beowulf_ is purely an +interlude, as much as the ballad of _Ares and Aphrodite_ in the +_Odyssey_. + +Many of the references to other legends in the _Iliad_ are +illustrative and comparative, like the passages about Heremod or +Thrytho in _Beowulf_. "Ares suffered when Otus and Ephialtes kept him +in a brazen vat, Hera suffered and Hades suffered, and were shot with +the arrows of the son of Amphitryon" (_Il._ v. 385). The long +parenthetical story of Heracles in a speech of Agamemnon (_Il._ xx. +98) has the same irrelevance of association, and has incurred the same +critical suspicions, as the contrast of Hygd and Thrytho, a fairly +long passage out of a wholly different story, introduced in _Beowulf_ +on the very slightest of suggestions. + +Thus in _Beowulf_ and in the Homeric poems there are episodes that are +strictly relevant and consistent, filling up the epic plan, opening +out the perspective of the story; also episodes that without being +strictly relevant are rightly proportioned and subordinated, like the +interlude of Finnesburh, decoration added to the structure, but not +overloading it, nor interfering with the design; and, thirdly, +episodes that seem to be irrelevant, and may possibly be +interpolations. All these kinds have the effect of increasing the mass +as well as the variety of the work, and they give to _Beowulf_ the +character of a poem which, in dealing with one action out of an heroic +cycle, is able, by the way, to hint at and partially represent a great +number of other stories. + +It is not in the episodes alone that _Beowulf_ has an advantage over +the shorter and more summary poems. The frequent episodes are only +part of the general liberality of the narrative. + +The narrative is far more cramped than in _Homer_; but when compared +with the short method of the Northern poems, not to speak of the +ballads, it comes out as itself Homeric by contrast. It succeeds in +representing pretty fully and continuously, not by mere allusions and +implications, certain portions of heroic life and action. + +The principal actions in _Beowulf_ are curiously trivial, taken by +themselves. All around them are the rumours of great heroic and tragic +events, and the scene and the personages are heroic and magnificent. +But the plot in itself has no very great poetical value; as compared +with the tragic themes of the Niblung legend, with the tale of +Finnesburh, or even with the historical seriousness of the _Maldon_ +poem, it lacks weight. The largest of the extant poems of this school +has the least important subject-matter; while things essentially and +in the abstract more important, like the tragedy of Froda and Ingeld, +are thrust away into the corners of the poem. + +In the killing of a monster like Grendel, or in the killing of a +dragon, there is nothing particularly interesting; no complication to +make a fit subject for epic. _Beowulf_ is defective from the first in +respect of plot. + +The story of Grendel and his mother is one that has been told in +myriads of ways; there is nothing commoner, except dragons. The +killing of dragons and other monsters is the regular occupation of the +heroes of old wives' tales; and it is difficult to give individuality +or epic dignity to commonplaces of this sort. This, however, is +accomplished in the poem of _Beowulf_. Nothing can make the story of +Grendel dramatic like the story of Waldere or of Finnesburh. But the +poet has, at any rate, in connexion with this simple theme, given a +rendering, consistent, adequate, and well-proportioned, of certain +aspects of life and certain representative characters in an heroic +age. + +The characters in _Beowulf_ are not much more than types; not much +more clearly individual than the persons of a comedy of Terence. In +the shorter Northern poems there are the characters of Brynhild and +Gudrun; there is nothing in _Beowulf_ to compare with them, although +in _Beowulf_ the personages are consistent with themselves, and +intelligible. + +Hrothgar is the generous king whose qualities were in Northern history +transferred to his nephew Hrothulf (Hrolf Kraki), the type of peaceful +strength, a man of war living quietly in the intervals of war. + +Beowulf is like him in magnanimity, but his character is less uniform. +He is not one of the more cruel adventurers, like Starkad in the myth, +or some of the men of the Icelandic Sagas. But he is an adventurer +with something strange and not altogether safe in his disposition. His +youth was like that of the lubberly younger sons in the fairy stories. +"They said that he was slack." Though he does not swagger like a +Berserk, nor "gab" like the Paladins of Charlemagne, he is ready on +provocation to boast of what he has done. The pathetic sentiment of +his farewell to Hrothgar is possibly to be ascribed, in the details of +its rhetoric, to the common affection of Anglo-Saxon poetry for the +elegiac mood; but the softer passages are not out of keeping with the +wilder moments of _Beowulf_, and they add greatly to the interest of +his character. He is more variable, more dramatic, than the king and +queen of the Danes, or any of the secondary personages. + +Wealhtheo, the queen, represents the poetical idea of a noble lady. +There is nothing complex or strongly dramatic in her character. + +Hunferth, the envious man, brought in as a foil to Beowulf, is not +caricatured or exaggerated. His sourness is that of a critic and a +politician, disinclined to accept newcomers on their own valuation. He +is not a figure of envy in a moral allegory. + +In the latter part of the poem it is impossible to find in the +character of Wiglaf more than the general and abstract qualities of +the "loyal servitor." + +Yet all those abstract and typical characters are introduced in such a +way as to complete and fill up the picture. The general impression is +one of variety and complexity, though the elements of it are simple +enough. + +With a plot like that of _Beowulf_ it might seem that there was danger +of a lapse from the more serious kind of heroic composition into a +more trivial kind. Certainly there is nothing in the plain story to +give much help to the author; nothing in Grendel to fascinate or tempt +a poet with a story made to his hand. + +The plot of _Beowulf_ is not more serious than that of a thousand +easy-going romances of chivalry, and of fairy tales beyond all number. + +The strength of what may be called an epic tradition is shown in the +superiority of _Beowulf_ to the temptations of cheap romantic +commonplace. Beowulf, the hero, is, after all, something different +from the giant-killer of popular stories, the dragon-slayer of the +romantic schools. It is the virtue and the triumph of the poet of +_Beowulf_ that when all is done the characters of the poem remain +distinct in the memory, that the thoughts and sentiments of the poem +are remembered as significant, in a way that is not the way of the +common romance. Although the incidents that take up the principal part +of the scene of _Beowulf_ are among the commonest in popular stories, +it is impossible to mistake the poem for one of the ordinary tales of +terror and wonder. The essential part of the poem is the drama of +characters; though the plot happens to be such that the characters are +never made to undergo a tragic ordeal like that of so many of the +other Teutonic stories. It is not incorrect to say of the poem of +_Beowulf_ that the main story is really less important to the +imagination than the accessories by which the characters are defined +and distinguished. It is the defect of the poem this should be so. +There is a constitutional weakness in it. + +Although the two stories of _Beowulf_ are both commonplace, there is a +difference between the story of Grendel and the story of the dragon. + +The story of the dragon is more of a commonplace than the other. +Almost every one of any distinction, and many quite ordinary people in +certain periods of history have killed dragons; from Hercules and +Bellerophon to Gawain, who, on different occasions, narrowly escaped +the fate of Beowulf; from Harald Hardrada (who killed two at least) to +More of More Hall who killed the dragon of Wantley. + +The latter part of _Beowulf_ is a tissue of commonplaces of every +kind: the dragon and its treasure; the devastation of the land; the +hero against the dragon; the defection of his companions; the loyalty +of one of them; the fight with the dragon; the dragon killed, and the +hero dying from the flame and the venom of it; these are commonplaces +of the story, and in addition to these there are commonplaces of +sentiment, the old theme of this transitory life that "fareth as a +fantasy," the lament for the glory passed away; and the equally common +theme of loyalty and treason in contrast. Everything is commonplace, +while everything is also magnificent in its way, and set forth in the +right epic style, with elegiac passages here and there. Everything is +commonplace except the allusions to matters of historical tradition, +such as the death of Ongentheow, the death of Hygelac. With these +exceptions, there is nothing in the latter part of _Beowulf_ that +might not have been taken at almost any time from the common stock of +fables and appropriate sentiments, familiar to every maker or hearer +of poetry from the days of the English conquest of Britain, and long +before that. It is not to be denied that the commonplaces here are +handled with some discretion; though commonplace, they are not mean or +dull.[42] + +[Footnote 42: It has been shown recently by Dr. Edward Sievers that +Beowulf's dragon corresponds in many points to the dragon killed by +Frotho, father of Haldanus, in Saxo, Book II. The dragon is not wholly +commonplace, but has some particular distinctive traits. See _Berichte +der Königl. Sächs. Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften_, 6 Juli 1895.] + +The story of Grendel and his mother is also common, but not as common +as the dragon. The function of this story is considerably different +from the other, and the class to which it belongs is differently +distributed in literature. Both are stories of the killing of +monsters, both belong naturally to legends of heroes like Theseus or +Hercules. But for literature there is this difference between them, +that dragons belong more appropriately to the more fantastic kinds of +narrative, while stories of the deliverance of a house from a +pestilent goblin are much more capable of sober treatment and +verisimilitude. Dragons are more easily distinguished and set aside as +fabulous monsters than is the family of Grendel. Thus the story of +Grendel is much better fitted than the dragon story for a composition +like _Beowulf_, which includes a considerable amount of the detail of +common experience and ordinary life. Dragons are easily scared from +the neighbourhood of sober experience; they have to be looked for in +the mountains and caverns of romance or fable. Whereas Grendel remains +a possibility in the middle of common life, long after the last dragon +has been disposed of. + +The people who tell fairy stories like the _Well of the World's End_, +the _Knight of the Red Shield_, the _Castle East o' the Sun and West +o' the Moon_, have no belief, have neither belief nor disbelief, in +the adventures of them. But the same people have other stories of +which they take a different view, stories of wonderful things more +near to their own experience. Many a man to whom the _Well of the +World's End_ is an idea, a fancy, has in his mind a story like that of +Grendel which he believes, which makes him afraid. The bogle that +comes to a house at night and throttles the goodman is a creature more +hardy than the dragon, and more persevering. Stories like that of +Beowulf and Grendel are to be found along with other popular stories +in collections; but they are to be distinguished from them. There are +popular heroes of tradition to this day who are called to do for +lonely houses the service done by Beowulf for the house of Hrothgar. + +Peer Gynt (not Ibsen's Peer Gynt, who is sophisticated, but the +original Peter) is a lonely deer-stalker on the fells, who is asked by +his neighbour to come and keep his house for him, which is infested +with trolls. Peer Gynt clears them out,[43] and goes back to his +deer-stalking. The story is plainly one that touches the facts of life +more nearly than stories of _Shortshanks_ or the _Blue Belt_. The +trolls are a possibility. + +[Footnote 43: Asbjörnsen, _Norske Huldre-Eventyr og Folkesagn_. _At +renske Huset_ is the phrase--"to cleanse the house." Cf. _Heorot is +gefćlsod_, "Heorot is cleansed," in _Beowulf_.] + +The story of Uistean Mor mac Ghille Phadrig is another of the same +sort.[44] It is not, like the _Battle of the Birds_ or _Conal Gulban_, +a thing of pure fantasy. It is a story that may pass for true when the +others have lost everything but their pure imaginative value as +stories. Here, again, in the West Highlands, the champion is called +upon like Beowulf and Peer Gynt to save his neighbours from a warlock. +And it is matter of history that Bishop Gudmund Arason of Hólar in +Iceland had to suppress a creature with a seal's head, Selkolla, that +played the game of Grendel.[45] + +[Footnote 44: J.F. Campbell, _Tales of the West Highlands_, ii. p. 99. +The reference to this story in _Catriona_ (p. 174) will be +remembered.] + +[Footnote 45: _Biskupa Sögur_, i. p. 604.] + +There are people, no doubt, for whom Peer Gynt and the trolls, Uistean +Mor and the warlock, even Selkolla that Bishop Gudmund killed, are as +impossible as the dragon in the end of the poem of _Beowulf_. But it +is certain that stories like those of Grendel are commonly believed in +many places where dragons are extinct. The story of Beowulf and +Grendel is not wildly fantastic or improbable; it agrees with the +conditions of real life, as they have been commonly understood at all +times except those of peculiar enlightenment and rationalism. It is +not to be compared with the Phaeacian stories of the adventures of +Odysseus. Those stories in the _Odyssey_ are plainly and intentionally +in a different order of imagination from the story of the killing of +the suitors. They are pure romance, and if any hearer of the _Odyssey_ +in ancient times was led to go in search of the island of Calypso, he +might come back with the same confession as the seeker for the wonders +of Broceliande,--_fol i alai_. But there are other wonderful things in +the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_ which are equally improbable to the +modern rationalist and sceptic; yet by no means of the same kind of +wonder as Calypso or the Sirens. Probably few of the earliest hearers +of the _Odyssey_ thought of the Sirens or of Calypso as anywhere near +them, while many of them must have had their grandmothers' testimony +for things like the portents before the death of the suitors. Grendel +in the poem of _Beowulf_ is in the same order of existence as these +portents. If they are superstitions, they are among the most +persistent; and they are superstitions, rather than creatures of +romance. The fight with Grendel is not of the same kind of adventure +as Sigurd at the hedge of flame, or Svipdag at the enchanted castle. +And the episode of Grendel's mother is further from matter of fact +than the story of Grendel himself. The description of the desolate +water is justly recognised as one of the masterpieces of the old +English poetry; it deserves all that has been said of it as a passage +of romance in the middle of epic. Beowulf's descent under the water, +his fight with the warlock's mother, the darkness of that "sea +dingle," the light of the mysterious sword, all this, if less +admirably worked out than the first description of the dolorous mere, +is quite as far from Heorot and the report of the table-talk of +Hrothgar, Beowulf, and Hunferth. It is also a different sort of thing +from the fight with Grendel. There is more of supernatural incident, +more romantic ornament, less of that concentration in the struggle +which makes the fight with Grendel almost as good in its way as its +Icelandic counterpart, the wrestling of Grettir and Glam. + +The story of _Beowulf_, which in the fight with Grendel has analogies +with the plainer kind of goblin story, rather alters its tone in the +fight with Grendel's mother. There are parallels in _Grettis Saga_, +and elsewhere, to encounters like this, with a hag or ogress under +water; stories of this sort have been found no less credible than +stories of haunting warlocks like Grendel. But this second story is +not told in the same way as the first. It has more of the fashion and +temper of mythical fable or romance, and less of matter of fact. More +particularly, the old sword, the sword of light, in the possession of +Grendel's dam in her house under the water, makes one think of other +legends of mysterious swords, like that of Helgi, and the "glaives of +light" that are in the keeping of divers "gyre carlines" in the _West +Highland Tales_. Further, the whole scheme is a common one in popular +stories, especially in Celtic stories of giants; after the giant is +killed his mother comes to avenge him. + +Nevertheless, the controlling power in the story of _Beowulf_ is not +that of any kind of romance or fantastic invention; neither the +original fantasy of popular stories nor the literary embellishments of +romantic schools of poetry. There are things in _Beowulf_ that may be +compared to things in the fairy tales; and, again, there are passages +of high value for their use of the motive of pure awe and mystery. But +the poem is made what it is by the power with which the characters are +kept in right relation to their circumstances. The hero is not lost or +carried away in his adventures. The introduction, the arrival in +Heorot, and the conclusion, the return of Beowulf to his own country, +are quite unlike the manner of pure romance; and these are the parts +of the work by which it is most accurately to be judged. + +The adventure of Grendel is put in its right proportion when it is +related by Beowulf to Hygelac. The repetition of the story, in a +shorter form, and in the mouth of the hero himself, gives strength and +body to a theme that was in danger of appearing trivial and fantastic. +The popular story-teller has done his work when he has told the +adventures of the giant-killer; the epic poet has failed, if he has +done no more than this. + +The character and personage of Beowulf must be brought out and +impressed on the audience; it is the poet's hero that they are bound +to admire. He appeals to them, not directly, but with unmistakable +force and emphasis, to say that they have beheld ("as may unworthiness +define") the nature of the hero, and to give him their praises. + +The beauty and the strength of the poem of _Beowulf_, as of all true +epic, depend mainly upon its comprehensive power, its inclusion of +various aspects, its faculty of changing the mood of the story. The +fight with Grendel is an adventure of one sort, grim, unrelieved, +touching close upon the springs of mortal terror, the recollection or +the apprehension of real adversaries possibly to be met with in the +darkness. The fight with Grendel's mother touches on other motives; +the terror is further away from human habitations, and it is +accompanied with a charm and a beauty, the beauty of the Gorgon, such +as is absent from the first adventure. It would have loosened the +tension and broken the unity of the scene, if any such irrelevances +had been admitted into the story of the fight with Grendel. The fight +with Grendel's mother is fought under other conditions; the stress is +not the same; the hero goes out to conquer, he is beset by no such +apprehension as in the case of the night attack. The poet is at this +point free to make use of a new set of motives, and here it is rather +the scene than the action that is made vivid to the mind. But after +this excursion the story comes back to its heroic beginning; and the +conversation of Beowulf with his hosts in Denmark, and the report that +he gives to his kin in Gautland, are enough to reduce to its right +episodic dimensions the fantasy of the adventure under the sea. In the +latter part of the poem there is still another distribution of +interest. The conversation of the personages is still to be found +occasionally carried on in the steady tones of people who have lives +of their own, and belong to a world where the tunes are not all in one +key. At the same time, it cannot be denied that the story of the +_Death of Beowulf_ is inclined to monotony. The epic variety and +independence are obliterated by the too obviously pathetic intention. +The character of this part of the poem is that of a late school of +heroic poetry attempting, and with some success, to extract the spirit +of an older kind of poetry, and to represent in one scene an heroic +ideal or example, with emphasis and with concentration of all the +available matter. But while the end of the poem may lose in some +things by comparison with the stronger earlier parts, it is not so +wholly lost in the charms of pathetic meditation as to forget the +martial tone and the more resolute air altogether. There was a danger +that Beowulf should be transformed into a sort of Amadis, a mirror of +the earlier chivalry; with a loyal servitor attending upon his death, +and uttering the rhetorical panegyric of an abstract ideal. But this +danger is avoided, at least in part. Beowulf is still, in his death, a +sharer in the fortunes of the Northern houses; he keeps his history. +The fight with the dragon is shot through with reminiscences of the +Gautish wars: Wiglaf speaks his sorrow for the champion of the Gauts; +the virtues of Beowulf are not those of a fictitious paragon king, but +of a man who would be missed in the day when the enemies of the Gauts +should come upon them. + +The epic keeps its hold upon what went before, and on what is to come. +Its construction is solid, not flat. It is exposed to the attractions +of all kinds of subordinate and partial literature,--the fairy story, +the conventional romance, the pathetic legend,--and it escapes them +all by taking them all up as moments, as episodes and points of view, +governed by the conception, or the comprehension, of some of the +possibilities of human character in a certain form of society. It does +not impose any one view on the reader; it gives what it is the proper +task of the higher kind of fiction to give--the play of life in +different moods and under different aspects. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE ICELANDIC SAGAS + + +I + +ICELAND AND THE HEROIC AGE + +The epic poetry of the Germans came to an end in different ways and at +different seasons among the several nations of that stock. In England +and the Continent it had to compete with the new romantic subjects and +new forms of verse. In Germany the rhyming measures prevailed very +early, but the themes of German tradition were not surrendered at the +same time. The rhyming verse of Germany, foreign in its origin, +continued to be applied for centuries in the rendering of German myths +and heroic stories, sometimes in a style with more or less pretence to +courtliness, as in the _Nibelungenlied_ and _Kudrun_; sometimes in +open parade of the travelling minstrel's "public manners" and simple +appetites. England had exactly the opposite fortune in regard to verse +and subject-matter. In England the alliterative verse survived the +changes of inflexion and pronunciation for more than five hundred +years after _Maldon_, and uttered its last words in a poem written +like the _Song of Byrhtnoth_ on a contemporary battle,--the poem of +_Scottish Field_.[46] + +[Footnote 46: Ed. Robson, Chetham Society, 1855, from the Lyme MS.; +ed. Furnivall and Hales, _Percy Folio Manuscript_, 1867.] + + There was girding forth of guns, with many great stones; + Archers uttered out their arrows and eagerly they shotten; + They proched us with spears and put many over; + That the blood outbrast at their broken harness. + There was swinging out of swords, and swapping of heads, + We blanked them with bills through all their bright armour, + That all the dale dinned of the derf strokes. + +But while this poem of Flodden corresponds in its subject to the poem +of _Maldon_, there is no such likeness between any other late +alliterative poem and the older poems of the older language. The +alliterative verse is applied in the fourteenth and fifteenth +centuries to every kind of subject except those of Germanic tradition. +England, however, has the advantage over Germany, that while Germany +lost the old verse, England did not lose the English heroic subjects, +though, as it happens, the story of King Horn and the story of +Havelock the Dane are not told in the verse that was used for King +Arthur and Gawain, for the tale of Troy and the wars of Alexander. The +recent discovery of a fragment of the _Song of Wade_ is an admonition +to be cautious in making the extant works of Middle English literature +into a standard for all that has ceased to exist. But no new +discovery, even of a Middle English alliterative poem of Beowulf or of +Walter of Aquitaine, would alter the fact that the alliterative +measure of English poetry in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, +like the ancient themes of the German rhyming poems, is a survival in +an age when the chief honours go to other kinds of poetry. The author +of _Piers Plowman_ is a notable writer, and so are the poets of +_Gawain_, and of the _Mort Arthure_, and of the _Destruction of Troy_; +but Chaucer and not Langland is the poetical master of that age. The +poems of the _Nibelungen_ and of _Kudrun_ are rightly honoured, but it +was to the author of _Parzival_, and to the courtly lyrics of Walther +von der Vogelweide, that the higher rank was given in the age of the +Hohenstaufen, and the common fame is justified by history, so often as +history chooses to have any concern with such things. + +In the lands of the old Northern speech the old heroic poetry was +displaced by the new Court poetry of the Scalds. The heroic subjects +were not, however, allowed to pass out of memory. The new poetry could +not do without them, and required, and obtained, its heroic dictionary +in the _Edda_. The old subjects hold their own, or something of their +own, with every change of fashion. They were made into prose stories, +when prose was in favour; they were the subjects of _Rímur_, rhyming +Icelandic romances, when that form came later into vogue.[47] In +Denmark they were paraphrased, many of them, by Saxo in his _History_; +many of them became the subjects of ballads, in Denmark, Norway, +Sweden, and the Faroes. + +[Footnote 47: See below, p. 283.] + +In this way some of the inheritance of the old German world was saved +in different countries and languages, for the most part in ballads and +chapbooks, apart from the main roads of literature. But these +heirlooms were not the whole stock of the heroic age. After the +failure and decline of the old poetry there remained an unexhausted +piece of ground; and the great imaginative triumph of the Teutonic +heroic age was won in Iceland with the creation of a new epic +tradition, a new form applied to new subjects. + +Iceland did something more than merely preserve the forms of an +antiquated life whose day was over. It was something more than an +island of refuge for muddled and blundering souls that had found the +career of the great world too much for them. The ideas of an +old-fashioned society migrated to Iceland, but they did not remain +there unmodified. The paradox of the history of Iceland is that the +unsuccessful old ideas were there maintained by a community of people +who were intensely self-conscious and exceptionally clear in mind. +Their political ideas were too primitive for the common life of +medieval Christendom. The material life of Iceland in the Middle Ages +was barbarous when compared with the life of London or Paris, not to +speak of Provence or Italy, in the same centuries. At the same time, +the modes of thought in Iceland, as is proved by its historical +literature, were distinguished by their freedom from extravagances,--from +the extravagance of medieval enthusiasm as well as from the +superstitions of barbarism. The life of an heroic age--that is, of an +older stage of civilisation than the common European medieval +form--was interpreted and represented by the men of that age +themselves with a clearness of understanding that appears to be quite +unaffected by the common medieval fallacies and "idolisms." This clear +self-consciousness is the distinction of Icelandic civilisation and +literature. It is not vanity or conceit. It does not make the +Icelandic writers anxious about their own fame or merits. It is simply +clear intelligence, applied under a dry light to subjects that in +themselves are primitive, such as never before or since have been +represented in the same way. The life is their own life; the record is +that of a dispassionate observer. + +While the life represented in the Sagas is more primitive, less +civilised, than the life of the great Southern nations in the Middle +Ages, the record of that life is by a still greater interval in +advance of all the common modes of narrative then known to the more +fortunate or more luxurious parts of Europe. The conventional form of +the Saga has none of the common medieval restrictions of view. It is +accepted at once by modern readers without deduction or apology on the +score of antique fashion, because it is in essentials the form with +which modern readers are acquainted in modern story-telling; and more +especially because the language is unaffected and idiomatic, not +"quaint" in any way, and because the conversations are like the talk +of living people. The Sagas are stories of characters who speak for +themselves, and who are interesting on their own merits. There are +good and bad Sagas, and the good ones are not all equally good +throughout. The mistakes and misuses of the inferior parts of the +literature do not, however, detract from the sufficiency of the common +form, as represented at its best. The invention of the common form of +the Saga is an achievement which deserves to be judged by the best in +its kind. That kind was not exempt, any more than the Elizabethan +drama or the modern novel, from the impertinences and superfluities of +trivial authors. Further, there were certain conditions and +circumstances about its origin that sometimes hindered in one way, +while they gave help in another. The Saga is a compromise between +opposite temptations, and the compromise is not always equitable. + + +II + +MATTER AND FORM + +It is no small part of the force of the Sagas, and at the same time a +difficulty and an embarrassment, that they have so much of reality +behind them. The element of history in them, and their close relation +to the lives of those for whom they were made, have given them a +substance and solidity beyond anything else in the imaginative stories +of the Middle Ages. It may be that this advantage is gained rather +unfairly. The art of the Sagas, which is so modern in many things, and +so different from the medieval conventions in its selection of matter +and its development of the plot, is largely indebted to circumstances +outside of art. In its rudiments it was always held close to the real +and material interests of the people; it was not like some other arts +which in their beginning are fanciful, or dependent on myth or legend +for their subject-matter, as in the medieval schools of painting or +sculpture generally, or in the medieval drama. Its imaginative methods +were formed through essays in the representation of actual life; its +first artists were impelled by historical motives, and by personal and +local interests. The art of the Sagas was from the first "immersed in +matter"; it had from the first all the advantage that is given by +interests stronger and more substantial than those of mere +literature; and, conversely, all the hindrance that such irrelevant +interests provide, when "mere literature" attempts to disengage itself +and govern its own course. + +The local history, the pedigrees of notable families, are felt as a +hindrance, in a greater or less degree, by all readers of the Sagas; +as a preliminary obstacle to clear comprehension. The Sagas differ in +value, according to their use and arrangement of these matters, in +relation to a central or imaginative conception of the main story and +the characters engaged in it. The best Sagas are not always those that +give the least of their space to historical matters, to the +genealogies and family memoirs. From these the original life of the +Sagas is drawn, and when it is cut off from these the Saga withers +into a conventional and insipid romance. Some of the best Sagas are +among those which make most of the history and, like _Njála_ and +_Laxdćla_, act out their tragedies in a commanding way that carries +along with it the whole crowd of minor personages, yet so that their +minor and particular existences do not interfere with the story, but +help it and give it substantiality. The tragedy of _Njal_, or of the +_Lovers of Gudrun_, may be read and judged, if one chooses, in +abstraction from the common background of Icelandic history, and in +forgetfulness of its bearing upon the common fortunes of the people of +the land; but these Sagas are not rightly understood if they are taken +only and exclusively in isolation. The tragedies gain a very distinct +additional quality from the recurrence of personages familiar to the +reader from other Sagas. The relation of the Sagas to actual past +events, and to the whole range of Icelandic family tradition, was the +initial difficulty in forming an adequate method of story-telling; the +particulars were too many, and also too real. But the reality of them +was, at the same time, the initial impulse of the Sagas; and the best +of the Sagas have found a way of saving the particulars of the family +and local histories, without injury to the imaginative and poetical +order of their narratives. + +The Sagas, with all the differences between them, have common +features, but among these is not to be reckoned an equal consideration +for the unity of action. The original matter of the oral traditions of +Iceland, out of which the written Sagas were formed, was naturally +very much made up of separate anecdotes, loosely strung together by +associations with a district or a family. Some of the stories, no +doubt, must have had by nature a greater unity and completeness than +the rest:--history in the rough has very often the outlines of tragedy +in it; it presents its authors with dramatic contrasts ready made +(Richard II. and Bolingbroke, Lewis XI. and Charles the Bold, +Elizabeth and Mary Queen of Scots); it provides real heroes. But there +are many interesting things which are not well proportioned, and which +have no respect for the unities; the hero is worth talking about +whether his story is symmetrical or not. The simplest form of heroic +narrative is that which puts together a number of adventures, such as +may easily be detached and repeated separately, adventures like that +of David and Goliath, Wallace with his fishing-rod, or Bruce in the +robbers' house. Many of the Sagas are mere loose strings of +adventures, of short stories, or idylls, which may easily be detached +and remembered out of connexion with the rest of the series. In the +case of many of these it is almost indifferent at what point they may +be introduced in the Saga; they merely add some particulars without +advancing the plot, if there be any plot. There are all varieties of +texture in the Sagas, from the extreme laxity of those that look like +mere collections of the anecdotes of a countryside (_Eyrbyggja_), to +the definite structure of those in which all the particulars +contribute to the main action (_Hrafnkels Saga_, _Bandamanna_, _Gísla +Saga_). + +The loose assemblage of stories current in Iceland before the Sagas +were composed in writing must, of course, have been capable of all +kinds of variation. The written Sagas gave a check to oral variations +and rearrangements; but many of them in extant alternative versions +keep the traces of the original story-teller's freedom of selection, +while all the Sagas together in a body acknowledge themselves +practically as a selection from traditional report. Each one, the most +complete as well as the most disorderly, is taken out of a mass of +traditional knowledge relating to certain recognisable persons, of +whom any one may be chosen for a time as the centre of interest, and +any one may become a subordinate character in some one else's +adventures. One Saga plays into the others, and introduces people +incidentally who may be the heroes of other stories. As a result of +this selective practice of the Sagas, it sometimes happens that an +important or an interesting part of the record may be dropped by one +Saga and picked up casually by another. Thus in the written Sagas, one +of the best stories of the two Foster-brothers (or rather "Brothers by +oath," _fratres jurati_) Thorgeir and Thormod the poet, is preserved +not by their own proper history, _Fóstbrćđra Saga_, but in the story +of Grettir the Strong; how they and Grettir lived a winter through in +the same house without quarrelling, and how their courage was +estimated by their host.[48] + +[Footnote 48: "Is it true, Thorgils, that you have entertained those +three men this winter, that are held to be the most regardless and +overbearing, and all of them outlaws, and you have handled them so +that none has hurt another?" Yes, it was true, said Thorgils. Skapti +said: "That is something for a man to be proud of; but what do you +think of the three, and how are they each of them in courage?" +Thorgils said: "They are all three bold men to the full; yet two of +them, I think, may tell what fear is like. It is not in the same way +with both; for Thormod fears God, and Grettir is so afraid of the dark +that after dark he would never stir, if he had his own way; but I do +not know that Thorgeir, my kinsman, is afraid of anything."--"You have +read them well," says Skapti; and so their talk ended (_Grettis Saga_, +c. 51).] + +This solidarity and interconnexion of the Sagas needs no explanation. +It could not be otherwise in a country like Iceland; a community of +neighbours (in spite of distances and difficulties of travelling) +where there was nothing much to think about or to know except other +people's affairs. The effect in the written Sagas is to give them +something like the system of the _Comédie Humaine_. There are new +characters in each, but the old characters reappear. Sometimes there +are discrepancies; the characters are not always treated from the same +point of view. On the whole, however, there is agreement. The +character of Gudmund the Great, for example, is well drawn, with zest, +and some irony, in his own Saga (_Ljósvetninga_); he is the prosperous +man, the "rich glutton," fond of praise and of influence, but not as +sound as he looks, and not invulnerable. His many appearances in other +Sagas all go to strengthen this impression of the full-blown great man +and his ambiguous greatness. So also Snorri the Priest, whose rise and +progress are related in _Eyrbyggja_, appears in many other Sagas, and +is recognised whenever he appears with the same certainty and the same +sort of interest as attaches to the name of Rastignac, when that +politician is introduced in stories not properly his own. Each +separate mention of Snorri the Priest finds its place along with all +the rest; he is never unequal to himself. + +It is in the short story, the episodic chapter, that the art of +Icelandic narrative first defines itself. This is the original unity; +it is here, in a limited, easily comprehensible subject-matter, that +the lines are first clearly drawn. The Sagas that are least regular +and connected are made up of definite and well-shaped single blocks. +Many of the Sagas are much improved by being taken to pieces and +regarded, not as continuous histories, but as collections of separate +short stories. _Eyrbyggja_, _Vatnsdćla_, and _Ljósvetninga_ are +collections of this sort--"Tales of the Hall." There is a sort of +unity in each of them, but the place of Snorri in _Eyrbyggja_, of +Ingimund in _Vatnsdćla_, and of Gudmund the Great in the history of +the House of Ljósavatn, is not that of a tragic or epic hero who +compels the episodes to take their right subordinate rank in a larger +story. These Sagas break up into separate chapters, losing thereby +none of the minor interests of story-telling, but doing without the +greater tragic or heroic interest of the fables that have one +predominant motive. + +Of more coherent forms of construction there are several different +examples among the Sagas. In each of these cases it is the tragic +conception, the tragic idea, of the kind long familiar to the Teutonic +nations, that governs the separate passages of the traditional +history. + +Tragic situations are to be found all through the Icelandic +literature, only they are not always enough to make a tragedy. There +is Nemesis in the end of Gudmund the Great, when his murdered enemy +haunts him; but this is not enough to make his Saga an organic thing. +The tragic problem of Alboin recurs, as was pointed out by the editors +of _Corpus Poeticum Boreale_, in the prelude to _Vatnsdćla Saga_; but +it stands by itself as one of the separate chapters in that history, +which contains the plots of other tragedies also, without adopting any +one of them as its single and overruling motive. These are instances +of the way in which tragic imagination, or at any rate the knowledge +and partial appreciation of tragic plots, may come short of +fulfilment, and may be employed in a comparatively futile and wasteful +form of literature. In the greater works, where the idea is fully +realised, there is no one formal type. The Icelandic Sagas have +different forms of success in the greater works, as well as different +degrees of approximation to success in the more desultory and +miscellaneous histories. + +_Njála_, which is the greatest of all the Sagas, does not make its +effect by any reduction of the weight or number of its details. It +carries an even greater burden of particulars than _Eyrbyggja_; it has +taken up into itself the whole history of the south country of Iceland +in the heroic age. + +The unity of _Njála_ is certainly not the unity of a restricted or +emaciated heroic play. Yet with all its complexity it belongs to quite +a different order of work from _Eyrbyggja_. + +It falls into three divisions, each of these a story by itself, with +all three combining to form one story, apart from which they are +incomplete. The first, the story of Gunnar, which is a tragedy by +itself, is a necessary part of the whole composition; for it is also +the story of the wisdom of Njal and the dignity of Bergthora, without +which the second part would be insipid, and the great act of the +burning of Njal's house would lose its depth and significance. The +third part is the payment of a debt to Njal, Bergthora, and +Skarphedinn, for whom vengeance is required; but it is also due even +more to Flosi their adversary. The essence of the tragic situation +lies in this, that the good man is in the wrong, and his adversary in +the right. The third part is required to restore the balance, in order +that the original wrong, Skarphedinn's slaughter of the priest of +Whiteness, should not be thought to be avoided in the death of its +author. _Njála_ is a work of large scale and liberal design; the +beauty of all which, in the story, is that it allows time for the +characters to assert themselves and claim their own, as they could not +do in a shorter story, where they would be whirled along by the plot. +The vengeance and reconciliation in the third part of _Njála_ are +brought about by something more than a summary poetical justice of +fines and punishments for misdeeds. It is a more leisurely, as well as +a more poetical justice, that allows the characters to assert +themselves for what they really are; the son of Lambi "filthy still," +and Flosi the Burner not less true in temper than Njal himself. + +_Njála_ and _Laxdćla_ are examples of two different ways in which +inconvenient or distracting particulars of history or tradition might +be reduced to serve the ends of imagination and the heroic design. +_Njála_ keeps up, more or less, throughout, a continuous history of a +number of people of importance, but always with a regard for the +principal plot of the story. In _Laxdćla_ there is, on the other hand, +a gradual approach to the tragedy of Kjartan, Bolli, and Gudrun; an +historical prologue of the founding of Laxdale, and the lives of +Kjartan's father and grandfather, before the chief part of the story +begins. In _Njála_ the main story opens as soon as Njal appears; of +prologue there is little more than is needed to prepare for the +mischief of Hallgerda, who is the cause of the strain between the two +houses of Lithend and Bergthorsknoll, and thereby the touchstone of +the generosity of Njal. In _Laxdćla_, although the prologue is not +irrelevant, there is a long delay before the principal personages are +brought together. There is no mistake about the story when once it +begins, and no question about the unity of the interest; Gudrun and +Fate may divide it between them, if it be divisible. It is purely the +stronger quality of this part of the book, in comparison with the +earlier, that saves _Laxdćla_ from the defects of its construction; by +the energy of the story of Kjartan, the early story of Laxdale is +thrown back and left behind as a mere prelude, in spite of its length. + +The story of Egil Skallagrimsson, the longest of the biographical +Sagas, shows exactly the opposite proportions to those of _Laxdćla_. +The life of Egil is prefaced by the history of his grandfather, +father, and uncle, Kveldulf, Skallagrim (Grim the Bald), and Thorolf. +Unhappily for the general effect of the book, the life of Egil is told +with less strength and coherence than the fate of his uncle. The most +commanding and most tragic part of _Egla_ is that which represents +Skallagrim and Thorolf in their relations to the tyranny of Harald the +king; how Thorolf's loyalty was ill paid, and how Skallagrim his +brother went in defiance to speak to King Harald. This, though it is +only a prelude to the story of Egil, is one of the finest imaginative +passages in the whole literature. The Saga has here been able to +express, in a dramatic and imaginative form, that conflict of +principles between the new monarchy and the old liberty which led to +the Icelandic migration. The whole political situation, it might be +said the whole early history of Iceland and Norway, is here summed up +and personified in the conflict of will between the three characters. +Thorolf, Harald the king, and Skallagrim play the drama of the +Norwegian monarchy, and the founding of the Icelandic Commonwealth. +After this compact and splendid piece of work the adventures of Egil +Skallagrimsson appear rather ineffectual and erratic, in spite of some +brilliant episodes. + +What was an author to do when his hero died in his bed, or survived +all his feuds and enmities? or when a feud could not be wound up in +one generation? + +_Vápnfirđinga Saga_ gives the history of two generations of feud, with +a reconciliation at the end, thus obtaining a rounded unity, though at +some cost of the personal interest in its transference from fathers to +sons. + +_Víga-Glúms Saga_ is a story which, with the best intentions in the +world, could not attain to tragedy like that of Gisli or of Grettir, +because every one knew that Glum was a threatened man who lived long, +and got through without any deadly injury. Glum is well enough fitted +for the part of a tragic hero. He has the slow growth, the unpromising +youth, the silence and the dangerous laughter, such as are recorded in +the lives of other notable personages in heroic literature:-- + + Glum turned homeward; and a fit of laughing came on him. It + took him in this way, that his face grew pale, and there ran + tears from his eyes like hailstones: it was often so with + him afterwards, when bloodshed was in his mind. + +But although there are several feuds in the story of Glum or several +incidents in a feud, somehow there is no tragedy. Glum dies quietly, +aged and sightless. There is a thread of romantic destiny in his +story; he keeps his good luck till he parts with the gifts of his +grandfather Vigfus--the cloak, the spear, and the sword that Vigfus +had given him in Norway. The prayer for Glum's discomfiture, which one +of his early adversaries had offered to Frey, then takes effect, when +the protecting luck has been given away. The fall of Glum is, +however, nothing incurable; the change in his fortune is merely that +he has to give up the land which he had extorted from his adversary +long before, and that he ceases to be the greatest man in Eyjafirth, +though continuing to be a man of importance still. His honour and his +family are not hard hit, after all. + +The history of Glum, with its biographical unity, its interest of +character, and its want of tragedy, is a form of story midway between +the closer knit texture of _Gísla Saga_ and the laxity of construction +in the stories without a hero, or with more than one, such as +_Ljósvetninga_ or _Vatnsdćla_. It is a biography with no strong crisis +in it; it might have been extended indefinitely. And, in fact, the +existing form of the story looks as if it were rather carelessly put +together, or perhaps abridged from a fuller version. The story in +_Reykdćla_ of Viga Skuta, Glum's son-in-law and enemy, contains a +better and fuller account of their dealings than _Glúma_, without any +discrepancy, though the _Reykdćla_ version alludes to divergencies of +tradition in certain points. The curious thing is that the _Reykdćla_ +version supplies information about Glum's character which supplements +what is told more baldly in his own Saga. Both accounts agree about +Glum's good nature, which is practised on by Skuta. Glum is constant +and trustworthy whenever he is appealed to for help. The _Reykdćla_ +version gives a pretty confirmation of this view of Glum's character +(c. 24), where Glum protects the old Gaberlunzie man, with the result +that the old man goes and praises his kindness, and so lets his +enemies know of his movements, and spoils his game for that time. This +episode is related to _Glúma_, as the foster-brother episode of +Grettir (c. 51), quoted above, is related to _Fóstbrćđra Saga_. + +If _Glúma_ is interesting and even fairly compact, in spite of its +want of any great dramatic moment, on the other hand the tragic ending +is not always enough to save a story from dissipation of interest. In +the story of Glum's antagonist, Viga Skuta, in the second part of +_Reykdćla Saga_, there is no proportion or composition; his adventures +follow one upon the other, without development, a series of hazards +and escapes, till he is brought down at last. In the earlier part of +the same Saga (the story of Vemund, Skuta's cousin, and Askel, Skuta's +father) there is more continuity in the chronicle of wrongs and +revenges, and, if this story be taken by itself, more form and +definite design. The two rivals are well marked out and opposed to one +another, while the mischief-making Vemund is well contrasted with his +uncle Askel, the just man and the peacemaker, who at the end is killed +in one of his nephew's feuds, in the fight by the frozen river from +which Vemund escapes, while his enemy is drowned and his best friend +gets a death wound. + +There are two Sagas in which a biographical theme is treated in such a +way that the story produces one single impressive and tragical effect, +leaving the mind with a sense of definite and necessary movement +towards a tragic conclusion,--the story of Grettir the Strong, and the +story of Gisli the Outlaw. These stories have analogies to one +another, though they are not cast in quite the same manner. + +In the life of Grettir there are many detached episodes, giving room +for theories of adulteration such as are only too inevitable and +certain in regard to the imbecile continuation of the story after +Grettir's death and his brother's vengeance. The episodes in the main +story are, however, not to be dismissed quite so easily as the +unnecessary romance of the Lady Spes (_Grettis Saga_, cc. 90-95). +While many of the episodes do little to advance the story, and some +of them seem to have been borrowed from other Sagas without sufficient +reason (cc. 25-27, from the _Foster-brothers_), most of them serve to +accentuate the character of Grettir, or to deepen the sense of the +mystery surrounding his life. + +The tragedy of Grettir is one of those which depend on Accident, +interpreted by the author as Fate. The hero is a doomed man, like +Gisli, who sees things clearly coming on, but is unable to get out of +their way. In both _Gisli_ and _Grettir_ there is an accompaniment of +mystery and fantasy--for Gisli in the songs of the dream woman, for +Grettir in various touches unlike the common prose of the Sagas. The +hopelessness of his ill fortune is brought out in a sober way in his +dealings with the chiefs who are unable to protect him, and in the +cheerless courage of his relations with the foster-brothers, when the +three are all together in the house of Thorgils Arason. It is +illustrated in a quite different and more fantastic way in the scenes +of his wanderings among the mountains, in the mysterious quiet of +Thorisdal, in his alliance with strange deliverers, outside of the +common world and its society, in the curse of Glam under the +moonlight. This last is one of the few scenes in the Sagas, though not +the only one, when the effect depends on something more than the +persons engaged in it. The moon with the clouds driving over counts +for more than a mere indication of time or weather; it is essential to +the story, and lends itself to the malignity of the adversary in +casting the spell of fear upon Grettir's mind. The solitude of +Drangey, in the concluding chapters of _Grettis Saga_, the cliffs, the +sea and the storms are all much less exceptional; they are necessary +parts of the action, more closely and organically related to the +destiny of the hero. There, in the final scenes, although there is +witchcraft practised against Grettir, it is not that, but the common +and natural qualities of the foolishness of the thrall and the heroism +of Grettir and his young brother on which the story turns. These are +the humanities of Drangey, a strong contrast, in the art of narrative, +to the moonlight spell of Glam. The notable thing is that the romantic +and fantastic passages in Grettir are not obscurations of the tragedy, +not irrelevant, but rather an expression by the way, and in an +exceptional mood, of the author's own view of the story and his +conviction that it is all one coherent piece. This certainly is the +effect of the romantic interludes in _Gisli_, which is perhaps the +most tragic of all the Sagas, or at any rate the most self-conscious +of its tragic aim. In the story of Gisli there is an introduction and +preparation, but there is no very great expense of historical +preliminaries. The discrepancies here between the two extant +redactions of the Saga seem to show that introductory chapters of this +sort were regarded as fair openings for invention and decoration by +editors, who had wits enough to leave the essential part of the story +very much to itself. Here, when once the action has begun, it goes on +to the end without a fault. The chief characters are presented at the +beginning; Gisli and Thorkell his brother; Thorgrim the Priest and +Vestein, their two brothers-in-law. A speech foretelling their +disunion is reported to Gisli, and leads him to propose the oath of +fellowship between the four; which proposal, meant to avert the omen, +brings about its fulfilment. And so the story goes on logically and +inevitably to the death of Gisli, who slew Thorgrim, and the +passionate agony of Thordis, Thorgrim's wife and Gisli's sister. + +_Hrafnkels Saga_ is a tragic idyll, complete and rounded. It is +different in its design from _Njála_ or _Laxdćla_, from the stories of +Grettir and Gisli. It is a short story, well concentrated. For mere +symmetry of design it might compete with any of the greater Icelandic +works, not to speak of any modern fiction. + +Hrafnkel, the proud man, did a cruel thing "for his oath's sake"; +killed his shepherd Einar for riding on Freyfaxi, the horse that +belonged to Frey the god, and to Hrafnkel his priest. To the father of +Einar he made offers of compensation which were not accepted. Then the +story, with much admirable detail (especially in the scenes at the +Althing), goes on to show how Hrafnkel's pride was humbled by Einar's +cousin. All through, however, Hrafnkel is represented as guilty of +tragic terror, not of wickedness; he is punished more than is due, and +in the end the balance is redressed, and his arrogant conqueror is +made to accept Hrafnkel's terms. It is a story clearly and +symmetrically composed; it would be too neat, indeed, if it were not +that it still leaves some accounts outstanding at the end: the +original error is wasteful, and the life of an innocent man is +sacrificed in the clearing of scores between Hrafnkel and his +adversary. + +The theory of a conglomerate epic may be applied to the Icelandic +Sagas with some effect. It is plain on the face of them that they +contain short stories from tradition which may correspond to the short +lays of the epic theory, which do in fact resemble in many things +certain of the lays of the "Elder Edda." Many of the Sagas, like +_Eyrbyggja_, _Vatnsdćla_, _Svarfdćla_, are ill compacted, and easily +broken up into separate short passages. On the other hand, these +broken and variegated Sagas are wanting in dignity and impressiveness +compared with some others, while those others have attained their +dignity, not by choosing their episodic chapters merely, but by +forcing their own original and commanding thought upon all their +matter. This is the case, whether the form be that of the +comprehensive, large, secure, and elaborate _Njála_; of _Laxdćla_, +with its dilatory introduction changing to the eagerness and quickness +of the story of Gudrun; of _Grettir_ and _Gisli_, giving shape in +their several ways to the traditional accumulation of a hero's +adventures; or, not less remarkable, the precision of _Hrafnkels Saga_ +and _Bandamanna_,[49] which appear to have discovered and fixed for +themselves the canons of good imaginative narrative in short compass, +and to have freed themselves, in a more summary way than _Njála_, from +the encumbrances of traditional history, and the distracting interests +of the antiquarian and the genealogist. These two stories, with that +of Howard of Icefirth[50] and some others, might perhaps be taken as +corresponding in Icelandic prose to the short epic in verse, such as +the _Atlakviđa_. They show, at any rate, that the difficulties of +reluctant subject-matter and of the manifold deliverances of tradition +were not able, in all cases, to get the better of that sense of form +which was revealed in the older poetic designs. + +[Footnote 49: See below, pp. 229 _sqq._] + +[Footnote 50: p. 216.] + +In their temper also, and in the quality of their heroic ideal, the +Sagas are the inheritors of the older heroic poetry. + + +III + +THE HEROIC IDEAL + +In the material conditions of Icelandic life in the "Saga Age" there +was all the stuff that was required for heroic narrative. This was +recognised by the story-tellers, and they made the most of it. It must +be admitted that there is some monotony in the circumstances, but it +may be contended that this is of no account in comparison with the +results that are produced in the best Sagas out of trivial occasions. +"Greatly to find quarrel in a straw" is the rule of their conduct. The +tempers of the men are easily stirred; they have a general name[51] +for the trial of a man's patience, applied to anything that puts a +strain on him, or encroaches on his honour. The trial may come from +anything--horses, sheep, hay, women, merchandise. From these follow +any number of secondary or retaliatory insults, trespasses, and +manslaughters. Anything almost is enough to set the play going. What +the matter in dispute may be, is almost indifferent to the author of +the story. Its value depends on the persons; it is what they choose to +make it. + +[Footnote 51: _Skapraun_, lit. _test of condition_.] + +The Sagas differ from all other "heroic" literatures in the larger +proportion that they give to the meannesses of reality. Their +historical character, and their attempts to preserve an accurate +memory of the past, though often freely modified by imagination, yet +oblige them to include a number of things, gross, common, and +barbarous, because they are part of the story. The Sagas differ one +from another in this respect. The characters are not all raised to the +height of Gunnar, Njal, Skarphedinn, Flosi, Bolli, Kjartan, Gisli. In +many of the Sagas, and in many scenes, the characters are dull and +ungainly. At the same time their perversity, the naughtiness, for +example, of Vemund in _Reykdćla_, or of Thorolf the crank old man in +_Eyrbyggja_, belongs to the same world as the lives of the more heroic +personages. The Sagas take an interest in misconduct, when there is +nothing better to be had, and the heroic age is frequently represented +by them rather according to the rules of modern unheroic story-telling +than of Bossu _on the Epic Poem_. The inequitable persons +(_újafnađarmenn_) in the Sagas are not all of them as lordly as +Agamemnon. For many readers this is an advantage; if the Sagas are +thereby made inferior to Homer, they are all the closer to modern +stories of "common life." The people of Iceland seem always to have +been "at the auld work of the marches again," like Dandie Dinmont and +Jock o' Dawstoncleugh, and many of their grievances and wrongs might +with little change have been turned into subjects for Crabbe or Mr. +Hardy. It requires no great stretch of fancy to see Crabbe at work on +the story of Thorolf Bćgifot and his neighbour in _Eyrbyggja_; the old +Thorolf, "curst with age," driven frantic by his homely neighbour's +greater skill in the weather, and taking it out in a vicious trespass +on his neighbour's hay; the neighbour's recourse to Thorolf's more +considerate son Arnkell; Arnkell's payment of the damage, and summary +method of putting accounts square again by seizure of his father's +oxen; with the consequences of all this, which perhaps are somewhat +too violent to be translated literally into the modern language of +Suffolk or Wessex. Episodes of this type are common in the Sagas, and +it is to them in a great measure that the Sagas owe their distinction +from the common run of medieval narrative. But no appreciation of this +"common life" in the Sagas can be just, if it ignores the essentially +"heroic" nature of the moral laws under which the Icelandic narratives +are conducted. Whether with good results or bad, is another question; +but there can be no doubt that the Sagas were composed under the +direction of an heroic ideal, identical in most respects with that of +the older heroic poetry. This ideal view is revealed in different +ways, as the Sagas have different ways of bringing their characters +before the audience. In the best passages, of course, which are the +most dramatic, the presuppositions and private opinions of the author +are not immediately disclosed in the speeches of the characters. But +the Sagas are not without their chorus; the general judgment of people +about their leaders is often expressed; and although the action of the +Sagas is generally sufficient to make its own impression and explain +itself, the author's reading of his characters is frequently added. +From the action and the commentary together, the heroic ideal comes +out clearly, and it is plain that its effect on the Sagas was not +merely an implicit and unconscious influence. It had risen into the +consciousness of the authors of the Sagas; it was not far from +definite expression in abstract terms. In this lay the danger. An +ideal, defined or described in set terms, is an ideal without any +responsibility and without any privilege. It may be picked up and +traded on by any fool or hypocrite. Undefined and undivulged, it +belongs only to those who have some original strength of imagination +or will, and with them it cannot go wrong. But a definite ideal, and +the terms of its definition, may belong to any one and be turned to +any use. So the ideal of Petrarch was formulated and abused by the +Petrarchists. The formula of Amadis of Gaul is derived from +generations of older unformulated heroes, and implies the exhaustion +of the heroic strain, in that line of descent. The Sagas have not come +as far as that, but the latter days, that have seen Amadis, and the +mechanical repetitions of Amadis, may find in the Sagas some +resemblances and anticipations of the formal hero, though not yet +enough to be dangerous. + +In all sound heroic literature there are passages that bring up the +shadow of the sceptic,--passages of noble sentiment, whose phrases are +capable of being imitated, whose ideas may make the fortune of +imitators and pretenders. In the Teutonic epic poetry, as in Homer, +there are many noble speeches of this sort, speeches of lofty +rhetoric, about which the spirit of depreciation prompts a suspicion +that perhaps they may be less weighty and more conventional than we +think. False heroics are easy, and unhappily they have borrowed so +much of the true, that the truth itself is sometimes put out of +countenance by the likeness. + +In the English and the Icelandic heroic poetry there is some ground +for thinking that the process of decline and the evolution of the +false heroic went to some length before it was stopped. The older +poems laid emphasis on certain qualities, and made them an example and +an edification. "So ought a man to do," is a phrase common to the +English and the Northern schools of epic. The point of honour comes +to be only too well understood--too well, that is, for the work of the +imagination. Possibly the latter part of _Beowulf_ is more abstract +than it ought to be; at any rate, there are many of the secondary +Anglo-Saxon poems which, like the old Saxon _Hęliand_, show an +excessive use of the poetic formulas of courage and loyalty. The +Icelandic poetry had also its spurious heroic phrases, by which +something is taken away from the force of their more authentic +originals. + +In the Sagas, as in the _Iliad_, in the _Song of Maldon_, in the +_Death of Ermanaric_, there is a rhetorical element by which the ideas +of absolute courage are expressed. Unhappily it is not always easy to +be sure whether the phrases are of the first or the second growth; in +most cases, the better opinion perhaps will be that they belong to a +time not wholly unsophisticated, yet not in the stage of secondary and +abstract heroic romance. The rhetoric of the Sagas, like the rhetoric +of the "Poetic Edda," was taken too seriously and too greedily by the +first modern discoverers of the old Northern literature. It is not, +any more than the rhetoric of Homer, the immediate expression of the +real life of an heroic age; for the good reason that it is literature, +and literature just on the autumnal verge, and plainly capable of +decay. The best of the Sagas were just in time to escape that touch of +over-reflexion and self-consciousness which checks the dramatic life +and turns it into matter of edification or sentiment. The best of them +also give many indications to show how near they were to +over-elaboration and refinement. + +Kjartan, for example, in _Laxdćla_ is represented in a way that +sometimes brings him dangerously near the ideal hero. The story (like +many of the other Sagas) plays about between the two extremes, of +strong imagination applied dramatically to the subject-matter, on the +one hand, and abstract ethical reflexion on the other. In the scene of +Kjartan's encounter with Olaf Tryggvason in Norway[52] there is a +typical example of the two kinds of operation. The scene and the +dialogue are fully adequate to the author's intention, about which +there can be no mistake. What he wishes to express is there expressed, +in the most lively way, with the least possible encumbrance of +explanation or chorus: the pride of Kjartan, his respect for his +unknown antagonist in the swimming-match, his anxiety to keep clear of +any submission to the king, with the king's reciprocal sense of the +Icelander's magnanimity; no stroke in all this is other than right. +While also it may be perceived that the author has brought into his +story an ingredient of rhetoric. In this place it has its use and its +effect; and, nevertheless, it is recognisable as the dangerous essence +of all that is most different from sound narrative or drama. + +[Footnote 52: Translated in Appendix, Note B.] + + Then said the king, "It is well seen that Kjartan is used to + put more trust in his own might than in the help of Thor and + Odin." + +This rings as true as the noble echo of it in the modern version of +the _Lovers of Gudrun_:-- + + If neither Christ nor Odin help, why then + Still at the worst we are the sons of men. + +No amount of hacking work can take away the eloquence of this +phrasing. Yet it is beyond question, that these phrases, like that +speech of Sarpedon which has been borrowed by many a hero since, are +of a different stuff from pure drama, or any pure imaginative work. +By taking thought, they may be more nearly imitated than is possible +in the case of any strong dramatic scene. The words of the king about +Kjartan are like the words that are used to Earl Hakon, by Sigmund of +the Faroes;[53] they are on their way to become, or they have already +become, an ethical commonplace. In the place where they are used, in +the debate between Kjartan and King Olaf, they have received the +strong life of the individual persons between whom they pass, just as +an actor may give life and character to any words that are put in his +mouth. Yet elsewhere the phrase may occur as a commonplace +formula--_hann trúđi á mátt sinn ok megin_ (he trusted in his own +might and main)--applied generally to those Northern pagans who were +known to be _securi adversus Deos_ at the time of the first preaching +of Christendom in the North. + +[Footnote 53: "Tell me what faith you are of," said the earl. "I +believe in my own strength," said Sigmund (_Fćreyinga Saga_).] + +All is well, however, so long as this heroic ideal is kept in its +right relation, as one element in a complex work, not permitted to +walk about by itself as a personage. This right subordination is +observed in the Sagas, whereby both the heroic characters are kept out +of extravagance (for neither Gunnar, Kari, nor Kjartan is an abstract +creature), and the less noble or the more complex characters are +rightly estimated. The Sagas, which in many things are ironical or +reticent, do not conceal their standard of measurement or value, in +relation to which characters and actions are to be appraised. They do +not, on the other hand, allow this ideal to usurp upon the rights of +individual characters. They are imaginative, dealing in actions and +characters; they are not ethical or sentimental treatises, or mirrors +of chivalry. + + +IV + +TRAGIC IMAGINATION + +In their definite tragical situations and problems, the Sagas are akin +to the older poetry of the Teutonic race. The tragical cases of the +earlier heroic age are found repeated, with variations, in the Sagas. +Some of the chief of these resemblances have been found and discussed +by the editors of _Corpus Poeticum Boreale_. Also in many places where +there is no need to look for any close resemblance in detail, there is +to be seen the same mode of comprehending the tragical stress and +contradiction as is manifested in the remains of the poetry. As in the +older Germanic stories, so in the Sagas, the plot is often more than +mere contest or adventure. As in _Finnesburh_ and _Waldere_, so in +_Gísla Saga_ and _Njála_ and many other Icelandic stories, the action +turns upon a debate between opposite motives of loyalty, friendship, +kindred. Gisli kills his sister's husband; it is his sister who begins +the pursuit of Gisli, his sister who, after Gisli's death, tries to +avenge him. Njal has to stand by his sons, who have killed his friend. +Gunnlaug and Hrafn, Kjartan and Bolli, are friends estranged by "Fate +and their own transgression," like Walter and Hagena. + +The Sagas, being prose and having an historical tradition to take +care of, are unable to reach the same intensity of passion as some of +the heroic poems, the poems of _Helgi_ and of _Sigurd_. They are all +the more epic, perhaps, on that account; more equable in their course, +with this compensation for their quieter manner, that they have more +room and more variety than the passionate heroic poems. These +histories have also, as a rule, to do without the fantasies of such +poetry as _Hervor and Angantyr_, or _Helgi and Sigrun_. The vision of +the Queens of the Air, the return of Helgi from the dead, the +chantings of Hervor "between the worlds," are too much for the plain +texture of the Sagas. Though, as has already been seen in _Grettir_ +and _Gisli_, this element of fantastic beauty is not wholly absent; +the less substantial graces of mythical romance, "fainter and +flightier" than those of epic, are sometimes to be found even in the +historical prose; the historical tragedies have their accompaniment of +mystery. More particularly, the story of the _Death of Thidrandi whom +the Goddesses slew_, is a prose counterpart to the poetry of Sigrun +and Hervor.[54] + +[Footnote 54: It is summarised in Dasent's _Njal_, i. p. xx., and +translated in Sephton's _Olaf Tryggvason_ (1895), pp. 339-341.] + +There are many other incidents in the Sagas which have the look of +romance about them. But of a number of these the distinction holds +good that has been already put forward in the case of _Beowulf_: they +are not such wonders as lie outside the bounds of common experience, +according to the estimate of those for whom the stories were told. +Besides some wonderful passages that still retain the visionary and +fantastic charm of myth and mythical romance, there are others in +which the wonders are more gross and nearer to common life. Such is +the story of the hauntings at Froda, in _Eyrbyggja_; the drowned man +and his companions coming home night after night and sitting in their +wet clothes till daybreak; such is the ghastly story of the funeral of +Víga-Styrr in _Heiđarvíga Saga_. Things of that sort are no exceptions +to common experience, according to the Icelandic judgment, and do not +stand out from the history as something different in kind; they do not +belong to the same order as the dream-poetry of Gisli or the vision of +Thidrandi. + +The self-denial of the Icelandic authors in regard to myth and pure +romance has secured for them, in exchange, everything that is +essential to strong dramatic stories, independent of mythological or +romantic attractions. + +Some of the Sagas are a reduction of heroic fable to the temper and +conditions of modern prose. _Laxdćla_ is an heroic epic, rewritten as +a prose history under the conditions of actual life, and without the +help of any supernatural "machinery." It is a modern prose version of +the Niblung tragedy, with the personages chosen from the life of +Iceland in the heroic age, and from the Icelandic family traditions. +It is not the only work that has reduced the Niblung story to terms of +matter of fact. The story of Sigurd and Brynhild has been presented as +a drama by Ibsen in his _Warriors in Helgeland_, with the names +changed, with new circumstances, and with nothing remaining of the +mythical and legendary lights that play about the fortunes of Sigurd +in the Northern poems. The play relies on the characters, without the +mysteries of Odin and the Valkyria. An experiment of the same sort had +been made long before. In _Laxdćla_, Kjartan stands for Sigurd: Gudrun +daughter of Osvifr, wife of Bolli, is in the place of Brynhild wife of +Gunnar, driving her husband to avenge her on her old lover. That the +authors of the Sagas were conscious at least in some cases of their +relation to the poems is proved by affinities in the details of their +language. In _Gísla Saga_, Thordis, sister of Gisli, has to endure the +same sorrow as the wife of Sigurd in the poems; her husband, like +Sigurd, is killed by her brother. One of the verses put in the mouth +of Gisli in the story contrasts her with Gudrun, daughter of Giuki, +who killed her husband (Attila) to avenge her brothers; whereas +Thordis was waking up the pursuers of her brother Gisli to avenge her +husband. With this verse in his head, it is impossible that the writer +of the Saga can have overlooked the resemblance which is no less +striking than the contrast between the two cases. + +The relation of the Sagas to the older poetry may be expressed in this +way, perhaps, that they are the last stage in a progress from the +earliest mythical imagination, and the earliest dirges and encomiums +of the great men of a tribe, to a consistent and orderly form of +narrative literature, attained by the direction of a critical faculty +which kept out absurdities, without impairing the dramatic energy of +the story. The Sagas are the great victory of the Humanities in the +North, at the end of a long process of education. The Northern +nations, like others, had to come to an understanding with themselves +about their inherited myths, their traditional literary forms. One age +after another helped in different ways to modify their beliefs, to +change their literary taste. Practically, they had to find out what +they were to think of the gods; poetically, what they were to put into +their songs and stories. With problems of this sort, when a beginning +has once been made, anything is possible, and there is no one kind of +success. Every nation that has ever come to anything has had to go to +school in this way. None has ever been successful right through; +while, on the other hand, success does not mean the attainment of any +definite end. There is a success for every stage in the progress, and +one nation or literature differs from another, not by reason of an +ultimate victory or defeat, but in the number of prizes taken by the +way. + +As far as can be made out, the people of the Northern tongue got the +better of the Western Teutons, in making far more than they out of the +store of primeval fancies about the gods and the worlds, and in giving +to their heroic poems both an intenser passion of expression and a +more mysterious grace and charm. The Western Teutons in their heroic +poetry seem, on the other hand, to have been steadier and less +flighty. They took earlier to the line of reasonable and dignified +narrative, reducing the lyrical element, perhaps increasing the gnomic +or reflective proportions of their work. So they succeeded in their +own way, with whatever success belongs to _Beowulf_, _Waldere_, +_Byrhtnoth_, not to speak of the new essays they made with themes +taken from the Church, in the poems of _Andreas_, _Judith_, and all +the rest. Meanwhile the Northerners were having their own difficulties +and getting over them, or out of them. They knew far more about the +gods, and made poems about them. They had no patience, so that they +could not dilute and expand their stories in the Western way. They saw +no good in the leisurely methods; they must have everything emphatic, +everything full of poetical meaning; hence no large poetry, but a +number of short poems with no slackness in them. With these they had +good reason to be content, as a good day's work in their day. But +whatever advantage the fiery Northern poems may have over the slower +verse of the Anglo-Saxons, they do not correspond to the same +intellectual wants, and they leave out something which seems to have +been attained in the Western poetry. The North had still to find out +what could be done with simpler materials, and without the magical +light of the companions of Sigrun. The Icelandic prose histories are +the solution of this new problem, a problem which the English had +already tried and solved in their own manner in the quieter passages +of their epic poetry, and, above all, in the severity of the poem of +_Maldon_. + +The Sagas are partly indebted to a spirit of negative criticism and +restraint; a tendency not purely literary, corresponding, at any rate, +to a similar tendency in practical life. The energy, the passion, the +lamentation of the Northern poetry, the love of all the wonders of +mythology, went along with practical and intellectual clearness of +vision in matters that required cool judgment. The ironical correction +of sentiment, the tone of the _advocatus diaboli_, is habitual with +many of the Icelandic writers, and many of their heroes. "To see +things as they really are," so that no incantation could transform +them, was one of the gifts of an Icelandic hero,[55] and appears to +have been shared by his countrymen when they set themselves to compose +the Sagas. + +[Footnote 55: _Harđar Saga_, c. xi.] + +The tone of the Sagas is generally kept as near as may be to that of +the recital of true history. Nothing is allowed any preponderance over +the story and the speeches in it. It is the kind of story furthest +removed from the common pathetic fallacies of the Middle Ages. The +rationalist mind has cleared away all the sentimental and most of the +superstitious encumbrances and hindrances of strong narrative. + +The history of the early Northern rationalism and its practical +results is part of the general history of religion and politics. In +some respects it may have been premature; in many cases it seems (as +might be expected) to have gone along with hardness and sterility of +mind, and to have left an inheritance of vacuity behind it. The +curious and elaborate hardness of the Icelandic Court poetry may +possibly be a sign of this same temper; in another way, the prevalent +coolness of Northern piety, even before the Reformation, is scarcely +to be dissociated from the coolness of the last days of heathendom. +The spirited acuteness of Snorri the Priest and his contemporaries was +succeeded by a moderate and unenthusiastic fashion of religion, for +the most part equally remote from the extravagances and the glories of +the medieval Church. But with these things the Sagas have little to +do; where they are in relation to this common rationalist habit of +mind, it is all to their good. The Sagas are not injured by any +scepticism or coolness in the minds of their authors. The positive +habit of mind in the Icelanders is enough to secure them against a +good deal of the conventional dulness of the Middle Ages. It made them +dissatisfied with anything that seemed wanting in vividness or +immediate force; it led them to select, in their histories, such +things as were interesting in themselves, and to present them +definitely, without any drawling commonplaces, or any makeshift +rhetorical substitutes for accurate vision and clear record. It did +not hinder, but it directed and concentrated the imagination. The +self-repression in the Sagas is bracing. It gives greater clearness, +greater resonance; it does not cut out or renounce anything that is +really worth keeping. + +If not the greatest charm of the Sagas, at any rate that which is +perhaps most generally appreciated by modern readers is their economy +of phrasing in the critical passages, the brevity with which the +incidents and speeches are conveyed, the restriction of all +commentary to the least available compass. Single phrases in the great +scenes of the Sagas are full-charged with meaning to a degree hardly +surpassed in any literature, certainly not in the literatures of +medieval Europe. Half a dozen words will carry all the force of the +tragedy of the Sagas, or render all the suspense and terror of their +adventurous moments, with an effect that is like nothing so much as +the effect of some of the short repressed phrases of Shakespeare in +_Hamlet_ or _King Lear_. The effect is attained not by study of the +central phrase so much as by the right arrangement and selection of +the antecedents; that is, by right proportion in the narrative. It is +in this way that the killing of Gunnar's dog, in the attack on +Lithend, is made the occasion for one of the great strokes of +narrative. The words of Gunnar, when he is roused by the dog's +howl--"Sore art thou handled, Sam, my fosterling, and maybe it is +meant that there is not to be long between thy death and mine!"--are a +perfect dramatic indication of everything the author wishes to +express--the coolness of Gunnar, and his contempt for his enemies, as +well as his pity for his dog. They set everything in tune for the +story of Gunnar's death which follows. It is in this way that the +adventures of the Sagas are raised above the common form of mere +reported "fightings and flockings," the common tedious story of raids +and reprisals. This is one of the kinds of drama to be found in the +Sagas, and not exclusively in the best of them. One of the conditions +of this manner of composition and this device of phrasing is that the +author shall be able to keep himself out of the story, and let things +make their own impression. This is the result of the Icelandic habit +of restraint. The intellectual coolness of the Sagas is a pride that +keeps them from pathetic effusions; it does not impede the dramatic +passion, it merely gives a lesson to the sensibilities and sympathies, +to keep them out of the way when they are not wanted. + +This is one notable difference of temper and rhetoric between the +Sagas and the old English poems. One of the great beauties of the old +English poetry is its understanding of the moods of lamentation--the +mood of Ossian it might be called, without much error in the name. The +transience and uncertainty of the world, the memory of past good +fortune, and of things lost,--with themes like these the Anglo-Saxon +poets make some of their finest verse; and while this fashion of +meditation may seem perhaps to have come too readily, it is not the +worst poets who fall in with it. In the Icelandic poetry the notes of +lamentation are not wanting, and it cannot be said that the Northern +elegies are less sweet or less thrilling in their grief than those of +England in the kindred forms of verse. It is enough to think of +_Gudrun's Lament_ in the "Elder Edda," or of _Sonatorrek_, Egil +Skallagrimsson's elegy on the death of his two sons. It was not any +congenital dulness or want of sense that made the Sagas generally +averse to elegy. No mere writer of Sagas was made of stronger temper +than Egil, and none of them need have been ashamed of lamentation +after Egil had lamented. But they saw that it would not do, that the +fabric of the Saga was not made for excessive decoration of any kind, +and least of all for parenthesis of elegy. The English heroic poetry +is more relenting. _Beowulf_ is invaded by pathos in a way that often +brings the old English verse very nearly to the tone of the great +lament for Lancelot at the end of the _Morte d'Arthur_; which, no +doubt, is justification enough for any lapse from the pure heroic. In +the Sagas the sense of all the vanity of human wishes is expressed in +a different way: the lament is turned into dramatic action; the +author's sympathy is not shown in direct effusions, but in his +rendering of the drama.[56] The best instance of this is the story of +Howard of Icefirth. + +[Footnote 56: The pathos of Asdis, Grettir's mother, comes nearest to +the tone of the old English laments, or of the Northern elegiac +poetry, and may be taken as a contrast to the demeanour of Bjargey in +_Hávarđar Saga_, and an exception to the general rule of the Sagas in +this respect.] + +Howard's son Olaf, a high-spirited and generous young man, comes under +the spite of a domineering gentleman, all the more because he does +some good offices of his own free will for this tyrannical person. +Olaf is attacked and killed by the bully and his friends; then the +story goes on to tell of the vengeance of his father and mother. The +grief of the old man is described as a matter of fact; he was lame and +feeble, and took to his bed for a long time after his son's death. +Then he roused himself, and he and his wife went to look for help, and +finally were able to bring down their enemy. In all this there is no +reflexion or commentary by the author. The pathos is turned into +narrative; it is conveyed by means of the form of the story, the +relation of the incidents to one another. The passion of the old +people turns into resolute action, and is revealed in the perseverance +of Bjargey, Olaf's mother, tracking out her enemy and coming to her +kinsmen to ask for help. She rows her boat round her enemy's ship and +finds out his plans; then she goes to her brothers' houses, one after +another, and "borrows" avengers for her son. The repression and irony +of the Icelandic character are shown in the style of her address to +her brothers. "I have come to borrow your nets," she says to one, and +"I have come to borrow your turf-spade," to another; all which is +interpreted aright by the brothers, who see what her meaning is. Then +she goes home to her husband; and here comes in, not merely irony, but +an intentional rebuke to sentiment. Her husband is lying helpless and +moaning, and she asks him whether he has slept. To which he answers in +a stave of the usual form in the Sagas, the purport of which is that +he has never known sleep since the death of Olaf his son. "'Verily +that is a great lie,' says she, 'that thou hast never slept once these +three years. But now it is high time to be up and play the man, if +thou wilt have revenge for Olaf thy son; because never in thy days +will he be avenged, if it be not this day.' And when he heard his +wife's reproof he sprang out of bed on to the floor, and sang this +other stave,"--of which the substance is still lamentation, but +greatly modified in its effect by the action with which it is +accompanied. Howard seems to throw off his age and feebleness as time +goes on, and the height of his passion is marked by a note of his +cheerfulness and gladness after he has killed his enemy. This is +different from the method of _Beowulf_, where the grief of a father +for his son is rendered in an elegy, with some beauty and some +irrelevance, as if the charm of melancholy were too much for the +story-teller. + +The hardness of the Sagas is sometimes carried too far for the taste +of some readers, and there is room for some misgiving that in places +the Sagas have been affected by the contrary vice from that of +effusive pathos, namely, by a pretence of courage and endurance. In +some of the Northern poetry, as in _Ragnar's Death-Song_,[57] there +may be detected the same kind of insincere and exaggerated heroism as +in the modern romantic imitations of old Northern sentiment, now +fortunately less common than in the great days of the Northern +romantic movement at the beginning of this century. The old Northern +poetry seems to have become at one stage too self-conscious of the +literary effect of magnanimity, too quick to seize all the literary +profit that was to be made out of the conventional Viking. The Viking +of the modern romantic poets has been the affliction of many in the +last hundred years; none of his patrons seem to have guessed that he +had been discovered, and possibly had begun to be a bore, at a time +when the historical "Viking Age" had scarcely come to its close. There +is little in the Icelandic Sagas to show any affinity with his forced +and ostentatious bravery; but it may be suspected that here and there +the Sagas have made some use of the theatrical Viking, and have thrown +their lights too strongly on their death scenes. Some of the most +impressive passages of the Sagas are those in which a man receives a +death-wound with a quaint remark, and dies forthwith, like Atli in the +story of Grettir, who was thrust through as he stood at his door, and +said, "Those broad spears are in fashion now," as he went down. This +scene is one of the best of its kind; there is no fault to be found +with it. But there are possibly too many scenes and speeches of the +same sort; enough to raise the suspicion that the situation and the +form of phrase were becoming a conventional device, like some of the +"machines" in the secondary Sagas, and in the too-much-edited parts of +the better ones. This suspicion is not one that need be scouted or +choked off. The worser parts and baser parts of the literature are to +be detected by any means and all means. It is well in criticism, +however, to supplement this amputating practice by some regard for +the valid substances that have no need of it, and in this present case +to look away from the scenes where there is suspicion of journey work +and mechanical processes to the masterpieces that set the standard; +more especially to the story of the burning of Njal, which more than +any other is full of the peculiar strength and quality of the Sagas. + +[Footnote 57: _Vide supra_, p. 140, and _infra_, p. 295.] + +The beauty of _Njála_, and especially of the chapters about Njal's +death, is the result of a harmony between two extremes of sentiment, +each of which by itself was dangerous, and both of which have here +been brought to terms with each other and with the whole design of the +work. The ugliness of Skarphedinn's demeanour might have turned out to +be as excessive as the brutalities of _Svarfdćla_ or _Ljósvetninga +Saga_; the gentleness of Njal has some affinities with the gentleness +of the martyrs. Some few passages have distinctly the homiletic or +legendary tone about them:-- + + Then Flosi and his men made a great pile before each of the + doors, and then the women-folk who were inside began to weep + and to wail. + + Njal spoke to them, and said: "Keep up your hearts, nor + utter shrieks, for this is but a passing storm, and it will + be long before you have another such; and put your faith in + God, and believe that He is so merciful that He will not let + us burn both in this world and the next." + + Such words of comfort had he for them all, and others still + more strong (c. 128, Dasent's translation). + +It is easy to see in what school the style of this was learned, and of +this other passage, about Njal after his death:-- + + Then Hjallti said, "I shall speak what I say with all + freedom of speech. The body of Bergthora looks as it was + likely she would look, and still fair; but Njal's body and + visage seem to me so bright that I have never seen any dead + man's body so bright as this" (c. 131). + +At the other extreme are the heathenish manners of Skarphedinn, who, +in the scene at the Althing, uses all the bad language of the old +"flytings" in the heroic poetry,[58] who "grins" at the attempts to +make peace, who might easily, by a little exaggeration and change of +emphasis, have been turned into one of the types of the false heroic. + +[Footnote 58: Pp. 96, 113, above.] + +Something like this has happened to Egil, in another Saga, through +want of balance, want of comprehensive imagination in the author. In +_Njála_, where no element is left to itself, the picture is complete +and full of variety. The prevailing tone is neither that of the homily +nor that of the robustious Viking; it is the tone of a narrative that +has command of itself and its subject, and can play securely with +everything that comes within its scope. + +In the death of Njal the author's imagination has found room for +everything,--for the severity and the nobility of the old Northern +life, for the gentleness of the new religion, for the irony in which +the temper of Skarphedinn is made to complement and illustrate the +temper of Njal. + + Then Flosi went to the door and called out to Njal, and said + he would speak with him and Bergthora. + + Now Njal does so, and Flosi said: "I will offer thee, master + Njal, leave to go out, for it is unworthy that thou shouldst + burn indoors." + + "I will not go out," said Njal, "for I am an old man, and + little fitted to avenge my sons, but I will not live in + shame." + + Then Flosi said to Bergthora: "Come thou out, housewife, for + I will for no sake burn thee indoors." + + "I was given away to Njal young," said Bergthora, "and I + have promised him this, that we should both share the same + fate." + + After that they both went back into the house. + + "What counsel shall we now take?" said Bergthora. + + "We will go to our bed," says Njal, "and lay us down; I have + long been eager for rest." + + Then she said to the boy Thord, Kari's son: "Thee will I + take out, and thou shalt not burn in here." + + "Thou hast promised me this, grandmother," says the boy, + "that we should never part so long as I wished to be with + thee; but methinks it is much better to die with thee and + Njal than to live after you." + + Then she bore the boy to her bed, and Njal spoke to his + steward and said:-- + + "Now shalt thou see where we lay us down, and how I lay us + out, for I mean not to stir an inch hence, whether reek or + burning smart me, and so thou wilt be able to guess where to + look for our bones." + + He said he would do so. + + There had been an ox slaughtered, and the hide lay there. + Njal told the steward to spread the hide over them, and he + did so. + + So there they lay down both of them in their bed, and put + the boy between them. Then they signed themselves and the + boy with the cross, and gave over their souls into God's + hand, and that was the last word that men heard them utter. + + Then the steward took the hide and spread it over them, and + went out afterwards. Kettle of the Mark caught hold of him + and dragged him out; he asked carefully after his + father-in-law Njal, but the steward told him the whole + truth. Then Kettle said:-- + + "Great grief hath been sent on us, when we have had to share + such ill-luck together." + + Skarphedinn saw how his father laid him down and how he laid + himself out, and then he said:-- + + "Our father goes early to bed, and that is what was to be + looked for, for he is an old man." + +The harmonies of _Laxdćla_ are somewhat different from those of the +history of Njal, but here again the elements of grace and strength, of +gentleness and terror, are combined in a variety of ways, and in such +a way as to leave no preponderance to any one exclusively. Sometimes +the story may seem to fall into the exemplary vein of the "antique +poet historicall"; sometimes the portrait of Kjartan may look as if it +were designed, like the portrait of Amadis or Tirant the White, "to +fashion a gentleman or noble person in vertuous and gentle +discipline." Sometimes the story is involved in the ordinary business +of Icelandic life, and Kjartan and Bolli, the Sigurd and Gunnar of the +tragedy, are seen engaged in common affairs, such as make the alloy of +heroic narrative in the _Odyssey_. The hero is put to the proof in +this way, and made to adapt himself to various circumstances. +Sometimes the story touches on the barbarism and cruelty, which were +part of the reality familiar to the whole of Iceland in the age of the +Sturlungs, of which there is more in the authentic history of the +Sturlungs than in the freer and more imaginative story of Kjartan. At +one time the story uses the broad and fluent form of narrative, +leaving scene after scene to speak for itself; at other times it +allows itself to be condensed into a significant phrase. Of these +emphatic phrases there are two especially, both of them speeches of +Gudrun, and the one is the complement of the other: the one in the +tone of irony, Gudrun's comment on the death of Kjartan, a repetition +of Brynhild's phrase on the death of Sigurd;[59] the other Gudrun's +confession to her son at the end of the whole matter. + +[Footnote 59: Then Brynhild laughed till the walls rang again: "Good +luck to your hands and swords that have felled the goodly prince" +(_Brot Sgkv._ 10; cf. p. 103 above).] + + Gudrun meets her husband coming back, and says: "A good + day's work and a notable; I have spun twelve ells of yarn, + and you have slain Kjartan Olaf's son." + + Bolli answers: "That mischance would abide with me, without + thy speaking of it." + + Said Gudrun: "I reckon not that among mischances; it seemed + to me thou hadst greater renown that winter Kjartan was in + Norway, than when he came back to Iceland and trampled thee + under foot. But the last is best, that Hrefna will not go + laughing to bed this night." + + Then said Bolli in great wrath: "I know not whether she will + look paler at this news than thou, and I doubt thou mightest + have taken it no worse if we had been left lying where we + fought, and Kjartan had come to tell of it." + + Gudrun saw that Bolli was angry, and said: "Nay, no need of + words like these; for this work I thank thee; there is an + earnest in it that thou wilt not thwart me after." + +This is one of the crises of the story, in which the meaning of Gudrun +is brought out in a short passage of dialogue, at the close of a +section of narrative full of adventure and incident. In all that +precedes, in the relations of Gudrun to Kjartan before and after her +marriage with Bolli, as after the marriage of Kjartan and Hrefna, the +motives are generally left to be inferred from the events and actions. +Here it was time that Gudrun should speak her mind, or at least the +half of her mind. + +Her speech at the end of her life is equally required, and the two +speeches are the complement of one another. Bolli her son comes to see +her and sits with her. + + The story tells that one day Bolli came to Helgafell; for + Gudrun was always glad when he came to see her. Bolli sat + long with his mother, and there was much talk between them. + At last Bolli said: "Mother, will you tell me one thing? It + has been in my mind to ask you, who was the man you loved + best?" + + Gudrun answers: "Thorkell was a great man and a lordly; and + no man was goodlier than Bolli, nor of gentler breeding; + Thord Ingwin's son was the most discreet of them all, a wise + man in the law. Of Thorvald I make no reckoning." + + Then says Bolli: "All this is clear, all the condition of + your husbands as you have told; but it has not yet been told + whom you loved best. You must not keep it secret from me + longer." + + Gudrun answers: "You put me hard to it, my son; but if I am + to tell any one, I will rather tell you than another." + + Bolli besought her again to tell him. Then said Gudrun: "I + did the worst to him, the man that I loved the most." + + "Now may we believe," says Bolli, "that there is no more to + say." + + He said that she had done right in telling him what he + asked. + + Gudrun became an old woman, and it is said that she lost her + sight. She died at Helgafell, and there she rests. + +This is one of the passages which it is easy to quote, and also +dangerous. The confession of Gudrun loses incalculably when detached +from the whole story, as also her earlier answer fails, by itself, to +represent the meaning and the art of the Saga. They are the two keys +that the author has given; neither is of any use by itself, and both +together are of service only in relation to the whole story and all +its fabric of incident and situation and changing views of life. + + +V + +COMEDY + +The Poetical Justice of Tragedy is observed, and rightly observed, in +many of the Sagas and in the greater plots. Fate and Retribution +preside over the stories of Njal and his sons, and the _Lovers of +Gudrun_. The story of Gisli works itself out in accordance with the +original forebodings, yet without any illicit process in the logic of +acts and motives, or any intervention of the mysterious powers who +accompany the life of Gisli in his dreams. Even in less consistent +stories the same ideas have a part; the story of Gudmund the Mighty, +which is a series of separate chapters, is brought to an end in the +Nemesis for Gudmund's injustice to Thorkell Hake. But the Sagas claim +exemption from the laws of Tragedy, when poetical Justice threatens to +become tyrannical. Partly by the nature of their origin, no doubt, and +their initial dependence on historical recollections of actual +events,[60] they are driven to include a number of things that might +disappoint a well-educated gallery of spectators; the drama is not +always worked out, or it may be that the meaning of a chapter or +episode lies precisely in the disappointment of conventional +expectations. + +[Footnote 60: _Vide supra_, p. 193 (the want of tragedy in _Víga-Glúms +Saga_).] + +There is only one comedy, or at most two, among the Sagas--the story +of the Confederates (_Bandamanna Saga_) with an afterpiece, the short +story of Alecap (_Olkofra Ţáttr_). The composition of the Sagas, +however, admits all sorts of comic passages and undignified +characters, and it also quietly unravels many complications that seem +to be working up for a tragic ending. The dissipation of the storm +before it breaks is, indeed, so common an event that it almost becomes +itself a convention of narrative in the Sagas, by opposition to the +common devices of the feud and vengeance. There is a good instance of +this paradoxical conclusion in _Arons Saga_ (c. 12), an authentic +biography, apparently narrating an actual event. The third chapter of +_Glúma_ gives another instance of threatened trouble passing away. +Ivar, a Norwegian with a strong hatred of Icelanders, seems likely to +quarrel with Eyolf, Glum's father, but being a gentleman is won over +by Eyolf's bearing. This is a part of the Saga where one need not +expect to meet with any authentic historical tradition. The story of +Eyolf in Norway is probably mere literature, and shows the working of +the common principles of the Saga, as applied by an author of fiction. +The sojourn of Grettir with the two foster-brothers is another +instance of a dangerous situation going off without result. The whole +action of _Vápnfirđinga Saga_ is wound up in a reconciliation, which +is a sufficient close; but, on the other hand, the story of Glum ends +in a mere exhaustion of the rivalries, a drawn game. One of the later +more authentic histories, the story of Thorgils and Haflidi, dealing +with the matters of the twelfth century and not with the days of +Gunnar, Njal, and Snorri the Priest, is a story of rivalry passing +away, and may help to show how the composers of the Sagas were +influenced by their knowledge and observation of things near their +own time in their treatment of matters of tradition. + +Even more striking than this evasion of the conventional plot of the +blood-feud, is the freedom and variety in respect of the minor +characters, particularly shown in the way they are made to perplex the +simple-minded spectator. To say that all the characters in the Sagas +escape from the limitations of mere typical humours might be to say +too much; but it is obvious that simple types are little in favour, +and that the Icelandic authors had all of them some conception of the +ticklish and dangerous variability of human dispositions, and knew +that hardly any one was to be trusted to come up to his looks, for +good or evil. Popular imagination has everywhere got at something of +this sort in its views of the lubberly younger brother, the ash-raker +and idler who carries off the princess. Many of the heroes of the +Sagas are noted to have been slow in their growth and unpromising, +like Glum, but there are many more cases of change of disposition in +the Sagas than can be summed up under this old formula. There are +stories of the quiet man roused to action, like Thorarin in +_Eyrbyggja_, where it is plain that the quietness was strength from +the first. A different kind of courage is shown by Atli, the +poor-spirited prosperous man in _Hávarđar Saga_, who went into hiding +to escape being dragged into the family troubles, but took heart and +played the man later on. One of the most effective pieces of comedy in +the Sagas is the description of his ill-temper when he is found out, +and his gradual improvement. He comes from his den half-frozen, with +his teeth chattering, and nothing but bad words for his wife and her +inconvenient brother who wants his help. His wife puts him to bed, and +he comes to think better of himself and the world; the change of his +mind being represented in the unobtrusive manner which the Sagas +employ in their larger scenes. + +One of the most humorous and effective contradictions of the popular +judgment is that episode in _Njála_, where Kari has to trust to the +talkative person whose wife has a low opinion of him. It begins like +farce: any one can see that Bjorn has all the manners of the +swaggering captain; his wife is a shrew and does not take him at his +own valuation. The comedy of Bjorn is that he proves to be something +different both from his own Bjorn and his wife's Bjorn. He is the +idealist of his own heroism, and believes in himself as a hero. His +wife knows better; but the beauty of it all is that his wife is wrong. +His courage, it is true, is not quite certain, but he stands his +ground; there is a small particle of a hero in him, enough to save +him. His backing of Kari in the fight is what many have longed to see, +who have found little comfort in the discomfiture of Bobadil and +Parolles, and who will stand to it that the chronicler has done less +than justice to Sir John Falstaff both at Gadshill and Shrewsbury. +Never before Bjorn of _Njála_ was there seen on any theatre the person +of the comfortable optimist, with a soul apparently damned from the +first to a comic exposure and disgrace, but escaping this because his +soul has just enough virtue to keep him steady. The ordeal of Bjorn +contains more of the comic spirit than all the host of stage cowards +from Pyrgopolinices to Bob Acres, precisely because it introduces +something more than the simple humour, an essence more spiritual and +capricious. + +Further, the partnership of Kari and Bjorn, and Kari's appreciation of +his idealist companion, go a long way to save Kari from a too +exclusive and limited devotion to the purpose of vengeance. There is +much to be said on behalf of this Bjorn. His relations with Kari +prevent the hero of the latter part of the book from turning into a +mere hero. The humorous character of the squire brings out something +new in the character of the knight, a humorous response; all which +goes to increase the variety of the story, and to widen the difference +between this story and all the monotonous and abstract stories of +chivalrous adventures. + +The Sagas have comedy in them, comic incidents and characters, because +they have no notion of the dignity of abstract and limited heroics; +because they cannot understand the life of Iceland otherwise than in +full, with all its elements together. The one intentionally comic +history, _Bandamanna Saga_, "The Confederates," which is exceptional +in tone and plot, is a piece of work in which what may be called the +form or spirit or idea of the heroic Saga is brought fully within +one's comprehension by means of contrast and parody. _Bandamanna Saga_ +is a complete work, successful in every detail; as an artistic piece +of composition it will stand comparison with any of the Sagas. But it +is comedy, not tragedy; it is a mock-heroic, following the lines of +the heroic model, consistently and steadily, and serving as a +touchstone for the vanity of the heroic age. It is worth study, for +Comedy is later and therefore it would seem more difficult than +Tragedy, and this is the first reasonable and modern comedy in the +history of modern Europe. Further, the method of narrative, and +everything in it except the irony, belong to all the Sagas in common; +there is nothing particularly new or exceptional in the style or the +arrangement of the scenes; it is not so much a parody or a +mock-heroic, as an heroic work inspired with comic irony. It is not a +new kind of Saga, it is the old Saga itself put to the ordeal by the +Comic Muse, and proving its temper under the severest of all strains. + +This is the story of the Confederates.--There was a man named Ufeig +who lived in Midfirth, a free-handed man, not rich, who had a son +named Odd. The father and son disagreed, and Odd, the son, went off to +make his own fortune, and made it, without taking any further notice +of his father. The two men are contrasted; Ufeig being an unsuccessful +man and a humorist, too generous and too careless to get on in the +world, while Odd, his son, is born to be a prosperous man. The main +plot of the story is the reconciliation of the respectable son and the +prodigal father, which is brought about in the most perfect and +admirable manner. + +Odd got into trouble. He had a lawsuit against Uspak, a violent person +whom he had formerly trusted, who had presumed too much, had been +disgraced, and finally had killed the best friend of Odd in one of the +ways usual in such business in the Sagas. In the course of the lawsuit +a slight difficulty arose--one of Odd's jurymen died, and another had +to be called in his place. This was informal, but no one at first made +anything of it; till it occurred to a certain great man that Odd was +becoming too strong and prosperous, and that it was time to put him +down. Whereupon he went about and talked to another great man, and +half persuaded him that this view was the right one; and then felt +himself strong enough to step in and break down the prosecution by +raising the point about the formation of the jury. Odd went out of the +court without a word as soon as the challenge was made. + +While he was thinking it over, and not making much of it, there +appeared an old, bent, ragged man, with a flapping hat and a +pikestaff; this was Ufeig, his father, to whom he had never spoken +since he left his house. Ufeig now is the principal personage in the +story. He asks his son about the case and pretends to be surprised at +his failure. "Impossible! it is not like a gentleman to try to take in +an old man like me; how could you be beaten?" Finally, after Odd had +been made to go over all the several points of his humiliation, he is +reduced to trust the whole thing to his father, who goes away with the +comforting remark that Odd, by leaving the court when he did, before +the case was finished, had made one good move in the game, though he +did not know it. Ufeig gets a purse full of money from his son; goes +back to the court, where (as the case is not yet closed) he makes an +eloquent speech on the iniquity of such a plea as has been raised. "To +let a man-slayer escape, gentlemen! where are your oaths that you +swore? Will you prefer a paltry legal quibble to the plain open +justice of the case?" and so on, impressively and emotionally, in the +name of Equity, while all the time (equity + _x_) he plays with the +purse under his cloak, and gets the eyes of the judges fixed upon it. +Late in the day, Odd is brought back to hear the close of the case, +and Uspak is outlawed. + +Then the jealousy of the great men comes to a head, and a compact is +formed among eight of them to make an end of Odd's brand-new +prosperity. These eight are the Confederates from whom the Saga is +named, and the story is the story of Ufeig's ingenuity and malice as +applied to these noble Pillars of Society. To tell it rightly would be +to repeat the Saga. The skill with which the humorist plays upon the +strongest motives, and gets the conspirators to betray one another, is +not less beautifully represented than the spite which the humorist +provokes among the subjects of his experiments. The details are +finished to the utmost; most curiously and subtly in some of the +indications of character and disposition in the eight persons of +quality. The details, however, are only the last perfection of a work +which is organic from the beginning. Ufeig, the humorist, is the +servant and deputy of the Comic Muse, and there can be no doubt of the +validity of his credentials, or of the soundness of his procedure. He +is the ironical critic and censor of the heroic age; his touch is +infallible, as unerring as that of Figaro, in bringing out and making +ridiculous the meanness of the nobility. The decline and fall of the +noble houses is recorded in _Sturlunga Saga_; the essence of that +history is preserved in the comedy of the _Banded Men_. + +But, however the material of the heroic age may be handled in this +comedy, the form of heroic narrative comes out unscathed. There is +nothing for the comic spirit to fix upon in the form of the Sagas. The +Icelandic heroes may be vulnerable, but Comedy cannot take advantage +of them except by using the general form of heroic narrative in +Iceland, a form which proves itself equally capable of Tragedy and +Comedy. And as the more serious Icelandic histories are comprehensive +and varied, so also is this comic history. It is not an artificial +comedy, nor a comedy of humours, nor a purely satirical comedy. It is +no more exclusive or abstract in its contents than _Njála_; its strict +observance of limit and order is not the same thing as monotony; its +unity of action is consistent with diversities of motive. Along with, +and inseparable from, the satirical criticism of the great world, as +represented by the eight discomfited noble Confederates, there is the +even more satisfactory plot of the Nemesis of Respectability in the +case of Odd; while the successful malice and craft of Ufeig are +inseparable from the humanity, the constancy, and the imaginative +strength, which make him come out to help his prosaic son, and enable +him, the bent and thriftless old man, to see all round the frontiers +of his son's well-defined and uninteresting character. Also the +variety of the Saga appears in the variety of incident, and that +although the story is a short one. As the solemn histories admit of +comic passages, so conversely this comic history touches upon the +tragic. The death of Vali, slain by Uspak, is of a piece with the most +heroic scenes in Icelandic literature. Vali the friend of Odd goes +along with him to get satisfaction out of Uspak the mischief-maker. +Vali is all for peace; he is killed through his good nature, and +before his death forgives and helps his assailant. + + And when with the spring the days of summons came on, Odd + rode out with twenty men, till he came near by the garth of + Svalastead. Then said Vali to Odd: "Now you shall stop here, + and I will ride on and see Uspak, and find out if he will + agree to settle the case now without more ado." So they + stopped, and Vali went up to the house. There was no one + outside; the doors were open and Vali went in. It was dark + within, and suddenly there leapt a man out of the side-room + and struck between the shoulders of Vali, so that he fell on + the spot. Said Vali: "Look out for yourself, poor wretch! + for Odd is coming, hard by, and means to have your life. + Send your wife to him; let her say that we have made it up; + and you have agreed to everything, and that I have gone on + about my own gear down the valley!" Then said Uspak: "This + is an ill piece of work; this was meant for Odd and not for + you." + +This short heroic scene in the comedy has an effect corresponding to +that of the comic humours in the Icelandic tragedies; it redresses the +balance, it qualifies and diversifies what would otherwise be +monotonous. Simple and clear in outline as the best of the short +Icelandic stories are, they are not satisfied unless they have +introduced something, if only a suggestion, of worlds different from +their own immediate interests, a touch to show where their proper +story branches out into the history of other characters and fortunes. +This same story of the Confederates is wound up at the end, after the +reconciliation of the father and son, by a return to the adventures of +Uspak and to the subordinate tragic element in the comedy. The +poetical justice of the story leaves Uspak, the slayer of Vali, dead +in a cave of the hills; discovered there, alone, by shepherds going +their autumn rounds. + + +VI + +THE ART OF NARRATIVE + +The art of the Sagas will bear to be tested in every way: not that +every Saga or every part of one is flawless, far from it; but they all +have, though in different measure, the essentials of the fine art of +story-telling. Except analysis, it is hardly possible to require from +a story anything which will not be found supplied in some form or +other in the Sagas. The best of them have that sort of unity which can +hardly be described, except as a unity of life--the organic unity that +is felt in every particular detail. It is absurd to take separately +the details of a great work like _Njála_, or of less magnificent but +not less perfect achievements such as the story of Hrafnkel. There is +no story in the world that can surpass the _Bandamanna Saga_ in the +liveliness with which each particular reveals itself as a moment in +the whole story, inseparable from the whole, and yet in its own proper +space appearing to resume and absorb the life of the whole. Where the +work is elaborated in this way, where every particular is organic, it +is not possible to do much by way of illustration, or to exhibit +piecemeal what only exists as a complete thing, and can only be +understood as such. It is of some importance in the history of +literature that the rank and general character of these Icelandic +works should be asserted and understood. It would be equally laborious +and superfluous to follow each of them with an exposition of the value +of each stroke in the work. There are difficulties enough in the +language, and in the history, without any multiplication of +commentaries on the obvious; and there is little in the art of the +Sagas that is of doubtful import, however great may be the lasting +miracle that such things, of such excellence, should have been written +there and then. + +There is one general quality or characteristic of the Sagas which has +not yet been noticed, one which admits of explanation and +illustration, while it represents very well the prevailing mode of +imagination in the Sagas. The imaginative life of the Sagas (in the +best of them) is intensely strong at each critical point of the story, +with the result that all abstract, makeshift explanations are driven +out; the light is too strong for them, and the events are made to +appear in the order of their appearance, with their meaning gradually +coming out as the tale rolls on. No imagination has ever been so +consistently intolerant of anything that might betray the author's +knowledge before the author's chosen time. That everything should +present itself first of all as appearance, before it becomes +appearance with a meaning, is a common rule of all good story-telling; +but no historians have followed this rule with so complete and sound +an instinct as the authors of the Sagas. No medieval writers, and few +of the modern, have understood the point of view as well as the +authors of the story of Njal or of Kjartan. The reserve of the +narrator in the most exciting passages of the Sagas is not dulness or +want of sensibility; it is a consistent mode of procedure, to allow +things to make their own impression; and the result is attained by +following the order of impressions in the mind of one of the actors, +or of a looker-on. "To see things as they are" is an equivocal +formula, which may be claimed as their own privilege by many schools +and many different degrees of intelligence. "To see things as they +become," the rule of Lessing's _Laocoon_, has not found so many +adherents, but it is more certain in meaning, and more pertinent to +the art of narrative. It is a fair description of the aim of the +Icelandic authors and of their peculiar gift. The story for them is +not a thing finished and done with; it is a series of pictures rising +in the mind, succeeding, displacing, and correcting one another; all +under the control of a steady imagination, which will not be hurried, +and will not tell the bearing of things till the right time comes. The +vivid effect of the Saga, if it be studied at all closely, will be +found to be due to this steadiness of imagination which gives first +the blurred and inaccurate impression, the possibility of danger, the +matter for surmises and suspicions, and then the clearing up. Stated +generally in this way, the rule is an elementary one, but it is +followed in the Sagas with a singular consistency and success, and +with something more than a compulsory obedience. That both the +narrators and their audience in that country had their whole lives +filled with momentous problems in the interpretation of appearances +may well be understood. To identify a band of riders in the distance, +or a single man seen hurrying on the other side of the valley, was a +problem which might be a matter of life or death any day; but so it +has been in many places where there is nothing like the narrative art +of Iceland. The Icelandic historian is like no other in putting into +his work the thrill of suspense at something indistinctly seen going +on in the distance--a crowd of men moving, not known whether friends +or enemies. So it was in _Thorgils Saga_ (one of the later more +authentic histories, of the Sturlung cycle), when Thorgils and his men +came down to the Althing, and Bard and Aron were sent on ahead to find +out if the way was clear from the northern passes across the plain of +the Thing. Bard and Aron, as they came down past Armannsfell, saw a +number of horses and men on the plain below just where Haflidi, the +enemy, might have been expected to block the way. They left some of +their band to wait behind while they themselves went on. From that +point a chapter and more is taken up with the confused impression and +report brought back by the scouts to the main body. They saw Bard and +Aron ride on to the other people, and saw the others get up to meet +them, carrying weapons; and then Bard and Aron went out of sight in +the crowd, but the bearers of the report had no doubt that they were +prisoners. And further, they thought they made out a well-known horse, +Dapplecheek, and a gold-mounted spear among the strangers, both of +which had belonged to Thorgils, and had been given away by him to one +of his friends. From which it is inferred that his friend has been +robbed of the horse and the spear. + +The use of all this, which turns out to be all made up of true +eyesight and wrong judgment, is partly to bring out Thorgils; for his +decision, against the wish of his companions, is to ride on in any +event, so that the author gets a chapter of courage out of the +mistake. Apart from that, there is something curiously spirited and +attractive in the placing of the different views, with the near view +last of all. In the play between them, between the apprehension of +danger, the first report of an enemy in the way, the appearance of an +indistinct crowd, the false inference, and the final truth of the +matter, the Saga is faithful to its vital principle of variety and +comprehensiveness; no one appearance, not even the truest, must be +allowed too much room to itself. + +This indirect description is really the most vivid of all narrative +forms, because it gives the point of view that is wanting in an +ordinary continuous history. It brings down the story-teller from his +abstract and discursive freedom, and makes him limit himself to one +thing at a time, with the greatest advantage to himself and all the +rest of his story. In that way the important things of the story may +be made to come with the stroke and flash of present reality, instead +of being prosed away by the historian and his good grammar. + +There is a very remarkable instance of the use of this method in the +Book of Kings. Of Jehoram, son of Ahab, king of Israel, it is told +formally that "he wrought evil in the sight of the Lord," with the +qualification that his evil was not like that of Ahab and Jezebel. +This is impressive in its formal and summary way. It is quite another +mode of narrative, and it is one in which the spectator is introduced +to vouch for the matter, that presents the king of Israel, once for +all, in a sublime and tragic protest against the sentence of the +historian himself, among the horrors of the famine of Samaria. + + So we boiled my son, and did eat him: and I said unto her on + the next day, Give thy son, that we may eat him; and she + hath hid her son. + + And it came to pass, when the king heard the words of the + woman, that he rent his clothes; and he passed by upon the + wall, and the people looked, and, behold, he had sackcloth + within upon his flesh. + +No more than this is told of the unavailing penance of Jehoram the +son of Ahab. There is no preparation; all the tragedy lies in this +notice of something casually seen, and left without a commentary, for +any one to make his own story about, if he chooses. There is perhaps +nothing anywhere in narrative quite so sudden as this. The Northern +writers, however, carry out consistently the same kind of principles, +putting their facts or impressions forward in a right order and +leaving them to take care of themselves; while in the presentation of +events the spectator within the story has a good deal given him to do. +Naturally, where the author does not make use of analysis and where he +trusts to the reader's intellect to interpret things aright, the +"facts" must be fairly given; in a lucid order, with a progressive +clearness, from the point of view of those who are engaged in the +action. + +There is another and somewhat different function of the spectator in +the Sagas. In some cases, where there is no problem, where the action +is straightforward, the spectator and his evidence are introduced +merely to give breadth and freedom to the presentment, to get a +foreground for the scene. This is effected best of all, as it happens, +in a passage that called for nothing less than the best of the +author's power and wit; namely, the chapter of the death of Kjartan in +_Laxdćla_. + + And with this talk of Gudrun, Bolli was made to magnify his + ill-will and his grievance against Kjartan; and took his + weapons and went along with the others. They were nine + altogether; five sons of Osvifr, that is to say, Ospak and + Helgi, Vandrad, Torrad, and Thorolf; Bolli was the sixth, + Gunnlaug the seventh, sister's son of Osvifr, a comely man; + the other two were Odd and Stein, sons of Thorhalla the + talkative. They rode to Svinadal and stopped at the gully + called Hafragil; there they tied their horses and sat down. + Bolli was silent all the day, and laid him down at the edge + of the gully, above. + + Kjartan and his companions had come south over the pass, and + the dale was opening out, when Kjartan said that it was time + for Thorkell and his brother to turn back. Thorkell said + they would ride with him to the foot of the dale. And when + they were come south as far as the bothies called the North + Sheilings, Kjartan said to the brothers that they were not + to ride further. + + "Thorolf, the thief, shall not have this to laugh at, that I + was afraid to ride on my way without a host of men." + + Thorkell Whelp makes answer: "We will give in to you and + ride no further; but sorry shall we be if we are not there + and you are in want of men this day." + + Then said Kjartan: "Bolli my kinsman will not try to have my + life, and for the sons of Osvifr, if they lie in wait for + me, it remains to be seen which of us shall tell the tale + afterwards, for all that there may be odds against me." + + After that the brothers and their men rode west again. + + Now Kjartan rides southward down the valley, he and the two + others, An the Swart and Thorarinn. At Hafratindr in + Svinadal lived a man called Thorkell. There is no house + there now. He had gone to look after his horses that day, + and his shepherd along with him. They had a view of both + companies; the sons of Osvifr lying in wait, and Kjartan's + band of three coming down along the dale. Then said the herd + lad that they should go and meet Kjartan; it would be great + luck if they could clear away the mischief that was waiting + for them. + + "Hold your tongue," said Thorkell; "does the fool think he + can give life to a man when his doom is set? It is but + little I grudge them their good pleasure, though they choose + to hurt one another to their hearts' content. No! but you + and I, we will get to a place where there will be no risk, + where we can see all their meeting and have good sport out + of their play. They all say that Kjartan has more fighting + in him than any man; maybe he will need it all, for you and + I can see that the odds are something." + + And so it had to be as Thorkell wished. + +The tragic encounter that follows, the last meeting of the two +friends, Kjartan throwing away his weapons when he sees Bolli coming +against him, Bolli's repentance when he has killed his friend, when he +sits with his knee under Kjartan's head,--all this is told as well as +may be; it is one of the finest passages in all the Sagas. But even +this passage has something to gain from the episode of the churl and +his more generous servant who looked on at the fight. The scene opens +out; the spaces of the valley are shown as they appear to a looker-on; +the story, just before the critical moment, takes us aside from the +two rival bands and gives us the relation between them, the +gradually-increasing danger as the hero and his companions come down +out of the distance and nearer to the ambush. + +In this piece of composition, also, there goes along with the +pictorial vividness of the right point of view a further advantage to +the narrative in the character of the spectator. Two of the most +notable peculiarities of the Icelandic workmanship are thus brought +together,--the habit of presenting actions and events as they happen, +from the point of view of an immediate witness; and the habit of +correcting the heroic ideal by the ironical suggestion of the other +side. Nothing is so deeply and essentially part of the nature of the +Icelandic story, as its inability to give a limited or abstract +rendering of life. It is from this glorious incapacity that there are +derived both the habit of looking at events as appearances, before +they are interpreted, and the habit of checking heroics by means of +unheroic details, or, as here, by a suggestion of the way it strikes a +vulgar contemporary. Without this average man and his commentary the +story of the death of Kjartan would lose much. There is first of all +the comic value of the meanness and envy in the mind of the boor, his +complacency at the quarrels and mutual destruction of the magnificent +people. His intrusion on the scene, his judgment of the situation, is +proof of the variety of the life from which the Saga is drawn. More +than that, there is here a rather cruel test of the heroics of +_Laxdćla_, of the story itself; the notable thing about this spectator +and critic is that his boorish judgment is partly right, as the +judgment of Thersites is partly right--"too much blood and too little +brains." He is vulgar common sense in the presence of heroism. In his +own way a critic of the heroic ideals, his appearance in Svinadal as a +negative and depreciatory chorus in the tragedy of Kjartan is a touch +of something like the mood of _Bandamanna Saga_ in its criticism of +the nobles and their rivalries; although the author of _Laxdćla_ is +careful not to let this dangerous spirit penetrate too far. It is only +enough to increase the sense of the tragic vanity of human wishes in +the life and death of Kjartan Olafsson. + +Everything in the Sagas tends to the same end; the preservation of the +balance and completeness of the history, as far as it goes; the +impartiality of the record. The different sides are not represented as +fully as in _Clarissa Harlowe_ or _The Ring and the Book_, but they +are allowed their chance, according to the rules, which are not those +of analytical psychology. The Icelandic imagination is content if the +character is briefly indicated in a few dramatic speeches. The brevity +and externality of the Saga method might easily provoke from admirers +of Richardson a condemnation like that of Dr. Johnson on those who +know the dial-plate only and not the works. The psychology of the +Sagas, however, brief and superficial as it may be, is yet of the sort +that may be tested; the dials keep time, though the works are not +exposed. It may be doubtful at any moment how Skarphedinn will act, +but when his history is in progress, and when it is finished, the +reader knows that Skarphedinn is rightly rendered, and furthermore +that it is impossible to deal with him except as an individual +character, impressing the mind through a variety of qualities and +circumstances that are inexplicably consistent. It is impossible to +take his character to pieces. The rendering is in one sense +superficial, and open to the censures of the moralist--"from without +inwards"--like the characters of Scott. But as in this latter case, +the superficiality and slightness of the work are deceptive. The +character is given in a few strokes and without elaboration, but it is +given inevitably and indescribably; the various appearances of +Skarphedinn, different at different times, are all consistent with one +another in the unity of imagination, and have no need of psychological +analysis to explain them. + +The characters in the best of the Sagas grow upon the mind with each +successive appearance, until they are known and recognised at a hint. +In some cases it looks almost as if the author's dramatic imagination +were stronger and more just than his deliberate moral opinions; as if +his characters had taken the matter into their own hands, against his +will. Or is it art, and art of the subtlest order, which in Kjartan +Olafsson, the glorious hero, still leaves something of lightness, of +fickleness, as compared both with the intensity of the passion of +Gudrun and the dogged resolution of Bolli? There is another Saga in +which a hero of the likeness of Kjartan is contrasted with a dark, +malevolent, not ignoble figure,--the story of the Faroes, of Sigmund +Brestisson and Thrond of Gata. There, at the end of the story, when +Thrond of Gata has taken vengeance for the murder of his old enemy, it +is not Sigmund, the glorious champion of King Olaf, who is most +thought of, but Thrond the dark old man, his opponent and avenger. The +character of Thrond is too strong to be suppressed, and breaks through +the praise and blame of the chronicler, as, in another history, the +character of Saul asserts itself against the party of David. The +charge of superficiality or externality falls away to nothing in the +mind of any one who knows by what slight touches of imagination a +character may be brought home to an audience, if the character is +there to begin with. It is not by elaborate, continuous analysis, but +by a gesture here and a sentence there, that characters are expressed. +The Sagas give the look of things and persons at the critical moments, +getting as close as they can, by all devices, to the vividness of +things as they appear, as they happen; brief and reserved in their +phrasing, but the reverse of abstract or limited in their regard for +the different modes and aspects of life, impartial in their +acknowledgment of the claims of individual character, and unhesitating +in their rejection of conventional ideals, of the conventional +romantic hero as well as the conventional righteous man. The Sagas are +more solid and more philosophical than any romance or legend. + + +VII + +EPIC AND HISTORY + +In the close of the heroic literature of Iceland a number of general +causes are to be found at work. The period of the Sagas comes to an +end partly by a natural progress, culmination, and exhaustion of a +definite form of literary activity, partly through external influences +by which the decline is hastened. After the material of the early +heroic traditions had been all used up, after the writers of the +thirteenth century had given their present shapes to the stories of +the tenth and the eleventh centuries, two courses were open, and both +courses were taken. On the one hand the form of the Saga was applied +to historical matter near the writer's own time, or actually +contemporary, on the other hand it was turned to pure fiction. The +literature divides into history and romance. The authentic history, +the Sturlung cycle in particular, is the true heir and successor of +the heroic Saga. The romantic Sagas are less intimately related to the +histories of Njal or Gisli, though those also are representative of +some part of the essence of the Saga, and continue in a shadowy way +something of its original life. The Northern literatures in the +thirteenth century were invaded from abroad by the same romantic +forces as had put an end to the epic literature of France; +translations of French romances became popular, and helped to change +the popular taste in Norway and Iceland. At the same time the victory +of Romance was not entirely due to these foreigners; they found allies +in the more fanciful parts of the native literature. The schools of +Northern prose romance, which took the place of the older Sagas, were +indebted almost as much to the older native literature as to Tristram +or Perceval; they are the product of something that had all along been +part, though hardly the most essential part, of the heroic Sagas. The +romantic story of Frithiof and the others like it have disengaged from +the complexity of the older Sagas an element which contributes not a +little, though by no means everything, to the charm of _Njála_ and +_Laxdćla_. + +The historical work contained in the _Sturlunga Saga_ is a more +comprehensive and thorough modification of the old form. Instead of +detaching one of the elements and using it in separation from the +rest, as was done by the author of _Frithiof_, for example, the +historian of the Sturlungs kept everything that he was not compelled +to drop by the exigencies of his subject. The biographical and +historical work belonging to the _Sturlunga Saga_ falls outside the +order to which _Njal_ and _Gisli_ belong; it is epic, only in the +sense that a history may be called epic. Nevertheless it is true that +this historical work shows, even better than the heroic Sagas +themselves, what the nature of the heroic literature really is. In +dealing with a more stubborn and less profitable subject it brings out +the virtues of the Icelandic form of narrative. + +The relation of the Saga to authentic history had always been close. +The first attempt to give shape, in writing, to the traditions of the +heroic age was made by Ari Thorgilsson (_ob._ 1148), especially in +his _Landnámabók_, a history exact and positive, a record in detail of +all the first settlers of the island, with notes of the substance of +the popular stories by which their fame was transmitted. This exact +history, this positive work, precedes the freer and more imaginative +stories, and supplies some of them with a good deal of their matter, +which they work up in their own way. The fashion of writing, the +example of a written form of narrative, was set by Ari; though the +example was not followed closely nor in all points by the writers of +the Sagas: his form is too strict for them. + +It was too strict for his greatest successor in historical writing in +Iceland. Snorri Sturluson is the author of _Lives of the Kings of +Norway_, apparently founded upon Ari's _Book of Kings_, which has been +lost as an independent work. Snorri's _Lives_ themselves are extant in +a shape very far from authentic; one has to choose between the +abridged and inconvenient shape of _Heimskringla_, in which Snorri's +work appears to have been cut down and trimmed, and the looser form +presented by such compilations as the longer Saga of Olaf Tryggvason, +where more of Snorri appears to have been retained than in +_Heimskringla_, though it has to be extricated from all sorts of +irrelevant additions and interpolations. But whatever problems may +still remain unsolved, it is certain enough that Snorri worked on his +historical material with no intention of keeping to the positive lines +of Ari, and with the fullest intention of giving to his history of +Norway all the imaginative force of which he was capable. This was +considerable, as is proved by the stories of the gods in his _Edda_; +and in the histories of Olaf Tryggvason and of Saint Olaf, kings of +Norway, he has given companions to the very noblest of the Sagas +dealing with the Icelandic chiefs. Between the more scientific work of +Ari and the more imaginative work of Snorri comes, half-way, the _Life +of King Sverre_ (_ob._ 1202), written at the king's own dictation by +the Abbot Karl of Thingeyri. + +Ari collected the historical materials, both for Iceland and Norway, +and put them together in the extant _Landnámabók_ and the lost _Kings' +Lives_. Snorri Sturluson treated the _Kings' Lives_ in the spirit of +the greater Icelandic Sagas; his _Lives_ belong to heroic literature, +if there is any meaning in that name. The _Life of Sverre_ is not so +glorious as the _Life_ of either Olaf. Abbot Karl had not the same +interests or the same genius as Snorri, and his range was determined, +in most of the work, by the king himself. King Sverre, though he could +quote poetry to good effect when he liked, was mainly practical in his +ideas. + +The Sturlung history, which is the close of the heroic literature of +Iceland, has resemblances to the work of all three of the historians +just named. It is like Ari in its minuteness and accuracy; like +_Sverris Saga_, it has a contemporary subject to treat of; and it +shares with Snorri his spirit of vivid narrative and his sympathy with +the methods of the greater Sagas of Iceland. If authors were to be +judged by the difficulty of their undertakings, then Sturla, the +writer of the Sturlung history, would certainly come out as the +greatest of them all. For he was limited by known facts as much, or +even more than Ari; while he has given to his record of factions, +feuds, and anarchy almost as much spirit as Snorri gave to his lives +of the heroic kings, and more than Abbot Karl could give to the +history of Sverre and his political success. At the same time, +however, the difficulty of Sturla's work had been a good deal reduced +in the gradual progress of Icelandic literature. He had to represent +modern history, the history of his own time, in the form and with the +vividness of the imaginative Sagas. In undertaking this he was helped +by some examples of the same sort of thing, in Sagas written before +his time, and forming an intermediate stage between the group of which +_Njála_ is the head, and Sturla's history of his own family. The +biographies of Icelanders in the twelfth century, like that of +Thorgils and Haflidi quoted above, which form an introduction to the +Sturlung history, are something more authentic than the heroic Sagas, +but not much less spirited. It is difficult to draw a decided line +anywhere between the different classes; or, except by the date of its +subject, to mark off the story of the heroic age from the story of the +rather less heroic age that followed it. There was apparently an +accommodation of the Saga form to modern subjects, effected through a +number of experiments, with a result, complete and admirable, in +Sturla's history of the Sturlung fortunes. + +It may be said, also, that something of the work was done ready to the +author's hand; there was a natural fitness and correspondence between +the Icelandic reality, even when looked at closely by contemporary +eyes in the broad daylight, and the Icelandic form of representation. +The statue was already part shapen in the block, and led the hand of +the artist as he worked upon it. It is dangerous, no doubt, to say +after the work has been done, after the artist has conquered his +material and finished off his subject, that there was a natural +affinity between the subject and the author's mind. In the case of +Iceland, however, this pre-existent harmony is capable of being +proved. The conditions of life in Iceland were, and still are, such as +to exclude a number of the things that in other countries prevent the +historian from writing epic. There were none of the large, abstract +considerations and problems that turn the history into a dissertation +on political forces, on monarchy, on democracy, on diplomacy; there +were none of the large, vague multitudes of the people that impose +themselves on the historian's attention, to the detriment of his +individual characters. The public history of Iceland lies all in the +lives of private characters; it is the life of a municipality, very +much spread out, it is true, but much more like the life of a country +town or a group of country neighbours, than the society of a complex +state of any kind that has ever existed in Europe. Private interests +and the lives of individual men were what they had to think about and +talk about; and just in so far as they were involved in gossip, they +were debarred from the achievements of political history, and equally +inclined to that sort of record in which individual lives are +everything. If their histories were to have any life at all, it must +be the life of the drama or the dramatic narrative, and not that of +the philosophical history, or even of those medieval chronicles, +which, however unphilosophical, are still obliged by the greatness of +their subject to dwarf the individual actors in comparison with the +greatness of Kingdoms, Church, and Empire. Of those great +impersonalities there was little known in Iceland; and if the story of +Iceland was not to be (what it afterwards became) a mere string of +trivial annals, it must be by a deepening of the personal interest, by +making the personages act and talk, and by following intently the +various threads of their individual lives. + +So far the work was prepared for authors like Sturla, who had to +enliven the contemporary record of life in Iceland; it was prepared to +this extent, that any other kind of work was unpromising or even +hopeless. The present life in Sturla's time was, like the life of the +heroic age, a perpetual conflict of private wills, with occasional and +provisional reconciliations. The mode of narrative that was suitable +for the heroic stories could hardly fail to be the proper mode for the +contemporary factions of chiefs, heroic more or less, and so it was +proved by Sturla. + +_Sturlunga Saga_ contains some of the finest passages of narrative in +the whole of Icelandic literature. The biographical Sagas, with which +it is introduced or supported, are as good as all but the best of the +heroic Sagas, while they are not out of all comparison even with +_Njála_ or _Gísla_, with _Hrafnkels Saga_ or _Bandamanna_, in the +qualities in which these excel. + +The story of Thorgils and Haflidi has already been referred to in +illustration of the Icelandic method of narrative at its best. It is a +good story, well told, with the unities well preserved. The plot is +one that is known to the heroic Sagas--the growth of mischief and +ill-will between two honourable gentlemen, out of the villainy of a +worthless beast who gets them into his quarrels. Haflidi has an +ill-conditioned nephew whom, for his brother's sake, he is loth to +cast off. Thorgils takes up one of many cases in which this nephew is +concerned, and so is brought into disagreement with Haflidi. The end +is reconciliation, effected by the intervention of Bishop Thorlak +Runolfsson and Ketill the priest, aided by the good sense of the +rivals at a point where the game may be handsomely drawn, with no +dishonour to either side. The details are given with great liveliness. +One of the best scenes is that which has already been referred to (p. +238); another may be quoted of a rather different sort from an earlier +year. In the year 1120 at the Althing, Thorgils was with difficulty +dissuaded from breaking the peace as they stood, both parties, by the +door of the Thingvalla church on St. Peter's Day. Thorgils' friend +Bodvar had to use both arguments and unction to make him respect the +sanctity of the Althing, of the Church, and of the Saint to whom the +day belonged. Afterwards Thorgils said to his friend, "You are more +pious than people think." + + Bodvar answered: "I saw that we were penned between two + bands of them at the church door, and that if it broke into + a fight we should be cut to pieces. But for that I should + not have cared though Haflidi had been killed in spite of + the peace of Church and Parliament." + +The intervention at the end is very well given, particularly Ketill +the priest's story of his own enemy. + +_Sturlu Saga_, the story of the founder of the great Sturlung house, +the father of the three great Sturlung brothers, of whom Snorri the +historian was one, is longer and more important than the story of +Thorgils and Haflidi. The plot is a simple one: the rivalry between +Sturla and Einar, son of Thorgils. The contest is more deadly and more +complicated than that of Thorgils himself against Haflidi; that was +mainly a case of the point of honour, and the opponents were both of +them honourable men, while in this contest Sturla is politic and +unscrupulous, and his adversary "a ruffian by habit and repute." There +is a considerable likeness between the characters of Sturla and of +Snorri the priest, as that is presented in _Eyrbyggja_ and elsewhere. +A comparison of the rise of Snorri, as told in _Eyrbyggja_, with the +life of Sturla will bring out the unaltered persistence of the old +ways and the old standards, while the advantage lies with the later +subject in regard to concentration of interest. The _Life of Sturla_ +is not so varied as _Eyrbyggja_, but it is a more orderly piece of +writing, and at the same time more lively, through the unity of its +plot. Nor are the details spoiled by any tameness. Notable is the +company of rogues maintained by Einar; they and their ways are well +described. There was Geir the thief, son of Thorgerda the liar; he was +hanged by the priest Helgi. There was Vidcuth, son of stumpy Lina +(these gentry have no father's name to them); he was a short man and a +nimble. The third was Thorir the warlock, a little man from the North +country. This introduction serves to bring on the story of a moonlight +encounter with the robbers in snow; and in this sort of thing the +history of Sturla is as good as the best. It is worth while to look at +the account of the last decisive match with Einar--another snow piece. +It may be discovered there that the closer adhesion to facts, and the +nearer acquaintance with the persons, were no hindrance to the +Icelandic author who knew his business. It was not the multitude and +confusion of real details that could prevent him from making a good +thing out of his subject, if only his subject contained some +opportunity for passion and conflict, which it generally did. + +In this scene of the midnight raid in which the position of the two +rivals is decided, there is nothing at all heightened or exaggerated, +yet the proportions are such, the relations of the incidents are given +in such a way, as could not be bettered by any modern author dealing +with a critical point in a drama of private life. The style is that of +the best kind of subdued and sober narrative in which the excitement +of the situations is not spent in rhetoric. + +It fell at Hvamm in the winter nights (about Hallowmass) of the year +1171 that a man passed through, an old retainer of Sturla's; and +Sturla did not like his manner. As it turned out, this man went west +to Stadarhol, the house of Sturla's enemy, and told Einar all the +state of Sturla's house, how there were few men there. + +There was dancing at Hvamm that night, and it was kept up late. The +night was still, and every now and then some would look out and +listen, but they could hear no one stirring. + +The night after that Einar set out. He avoided Hvamm, but came down on +another steading, the house of Sturla's son-in-law Ingjald, and drove +off the cows and sheep, without any alarm; it was not till the morning +that one of the women got up and found the beasts gone. The news was +brought at once to Hvamm. Sturla had risen at daybreak and was looking +to his haystacks; it was north wind, and freezing. Ingjald came up, +and, "Now he is coming to ask me to buy his wethers," says Sturla; for +Sturla had warned him that he was in danger of being raided, and had +tried to get Ingjald to part with his sheep. Ingjald told him of the +robbery. Sturla said nothing, but went in and took down his axe and +shield. Gudny his wife was wakened, and asked what the news was. +"Nothing so far; only Einar has driven all Ingjald's beasts." Then +Gudny sprang up and shouted to the men: "Up, lads! Sturla is out, and +his weapons with him, and Ingjald's gear is gone!" + +Then follows the pursuit over the snow, and the fight, in which +Ingjald is killed, and Einar wounded and driven to beg for quarter. +After which it was the common saying that Einar's strength had gone +over to Sturla. + +It is a piece of clean and exact description, and particularly of the +succession of scenes and moods in life. The revels go on through the +calm night with an accompaniment of suspense and anxiety. There is no +better note in any chronicle of the anxieties of a lawless time, and +the steady flow of common pleasures in spite of the troubles; all the +manners of an heroic or a lawless time are summed up in the account of +the dance and its intermittent listening for the sound of enemies. +Sturla in the early light sees his son-in-law coming to him, and +thinks he knows what his errand is,--the author here, as usual, +putting the mistaken appearance first, and the true interpretation +second. In the beginning of the pursuit there is the silence and the +repression of a man in a rage, and the vehement call of his wife who +knows what he is about, and finds words for his anger and his purpose. +The weather of the whole story is just enough to play into the human +life--the quiet night, the north wind, and the frosty, sunless +morning. The snow is not all one surface; the drifts on the +hill-sides, the hanging cornice over a gully, these have their place +in the story, just enough to make the movements clear and +intelligible. This is the way history was written when the themes were +later by two centuries than those of the heroic Sagas. There is not +much difference, except in the "soothfastness"; the author is closer +to his subject, his imagination is confronted with something very near +reality, and is not helped, as in the older stories, by traditional +imaginative modifications of his subject. + +It is the same kind of excellence that is found in the other +subsidiary parts of _Sturlunga_, hardly less than in the main body of +that work. There is no reason for depressing these histories below the +level of any but the strongest work in the heroic Sagas. The history +of Bishop Gudmund and the separate lives of his two friends, Hrafn +and Aron, are not less vivid than the stories of the men of Eyre or +the men of Vatzdal. The wanderings of Aron round Iceland are all but +as thrilling as those of the outlaw Gisli or Grettir, whose adventures +and difficulties are so like his own. It is not easy to specify any +element in the one that is not in the other, while the handling of the +more authentic stories is not weak or faltering in comparison with the +others. No single incident in any of the Sagas is much better in its +way, and few are more humane than the scene in which Eyjolf Karsson +gets Aron to save himself, while he, Eyjolf, goes back into +danger.[61] + +[Footnote 61: Translated in Appendix, Note C.] + +The _Islendinga_ or _Sturlunga Saga_ of Sturla Thordarson, which is +the greatest of the pure historical works, is in some things inferior +to stories like those of the older Sturla, or of Hrafn and Aron. There +is no hero; perhaps least of all that hero, namely the nation itself, +which gives something like unity to the Shakespearean plays of the +Wars of the Roses. Historically there is much resemblance between the +Wars of the Roses and the faction fights in Iceland in which the old +constitution went to pieces and the old spirit was exhausted. But the +Icelandic tragedy had no reconciliation at the end, and there was no +national strength underneath the disorder, fit to be called out by a +peacemaker or a "saviour of society" like Henry VII. There was nothing +but the family interests of the great houses, and the _Sturlunga Saga_ +leaves it impossible to sympathise with either side in a contest that +has no principles and no great reformer to distinguish it. The anarchy +is worse than in the old days of the Northern rovers; the men are more +formal and more vain. Yet the history of these tumults is not without +its brightness of character. The generous and lawless Bishop Gudmund +belongs to the story; so do his champions Eyjolf, Hrafn, and Aron. +The figure of Snorri Sturluson is there, though he is rather +disappointing in his nephew's view of him. His enemy, Gizur the earl, +is a strong man, whose strength is felt in the course of the history; +and there are others. + +The beauty of _Sturlunga_ is that it gives a more detailed and more +rational account than is to be found elsewhere in the world of the +heroic age going to the bad, without a hero. The kind of thing +represented may be found in countless other places, but not Froissart +has rendered it so fully or with such truth, nor the _Paston Letters_ +with more intimate knowledge and experience. It is a history and not +an epic; the title of epic which may be claimed for _Njála_ and +_Laxdćla_, and even in a sense transferred to the later biographies, +does not rightly belong to Sturla's history of Iceland. It is a record +from year to year; it covers two generations; there is nothing in it +but faction. But it is descended from the epic school; it has the gift +of narrative and of vision. It represents, as no prosaic historian +can, the suspense and the shock of events, the alarm in the night, the +confusion of a house attacked, the encounter of enemies in the open, +the demeanour of men going to their death. The scenes are epic at +least, though the work as a whole is merely historical. + +There is a return in this to the original nature of the Saga, in some +respects. It was in the telling of adventures that the Sagas began, +separate adventures attaching to great names of the early days. The +separate adventures of Gisli were known and were told about before his +history was brought into the form and unity which it now possesses, +where the end is foreknown from the beginning. Many of the heroic +Sagas have remained in what must be very like their old oral form--a +string of episodes. _Eyrbyggja_, _Vatnsdćla_, _Flóamanna_, +_Svarfdćla_, are of this sort. _Sturlunga_, has not more unity than +_Eyrbyggja_, perhaps not as much, unless the rise of Gizur may be +reckoned to do for it what is done for the older story by the rise of +Snorri the Priest. But while the scenes thus fall apart in +_Sturlunga_, they are more vivid than in any other Icelandic book. In +no other is the art of description so nearly perfect. + +The scenes of _Sturlunga_ come into rivalry with the best of those in +the heroic Sagas. No one will ever be able to say, much less to +convince any one else, whether the burning of Njal's house or the +burning of Flugumyri is the better told or the more impressive. There +is no comparison between the personages in the two stories. But in +pure art of language and in the certainty of its effect the story of +Flugumyri is not less notable than the story of Bergthorsknoll. It may +be repeated here, to stand as the last words of the great Icelandic +school; the school which went out and had no successor till all its +methods were invented again, independently, by the great novelists, +after ages of fumbling and helpless experiments, after all the +weariness of pedantic chronicles and the inflation of heroic romance. + +Sturla had given his daughter Ingibjorg in marriage to Hall, son of +Gizur, and had come to the wedding at Flugumyri, Gizur's house at the +foot of the hills of Skagafjord, with steep slopes behind and the +broad open valley in front, a place with no exceptional defences, no +fortress. It was here, just after the bridal, and after the bride's +father had gone away, that Gizur's enemy, Eyjolf, came upon him, as he +had threatened openly in men's hearing. Sturla, who had left the house +just before, tells the story with the details that came to him from +the eye-witnesses, with exact particular descriptions. But there is no +drag in the story, and nothing mean in the style, whatever may have +been the brutal reality. It is, once again, the great scene of Epic +poetry repeated, the defence of a man's life and of his own people +against surrounding enemies; it is the drama of Gunnar or of Njal +played out again at the very end of the Northern heroic age, and the +prose history is quick to recognise the claims upon it. + +This is the end of the wedding at Flugumyri, in October of the year +1253, as told by Sturla:-- + + THE BURNING OF FLUGUMYRI + + Eyjolf saw that the attack was beginning to flag, and grew + afraid that the countryside might be raised upon them; so + they brought up the fire. John of Bakki had a tar-pin with + him; they took the sheepskins from the frames that stood + outside there, and tarred them and set them on fire. Some + took hay and stuffed it into the windows and put fire to it; + and soon there was a great smoke in the house and a choking + heat. Gizur lay down in the hall by one of the rows of + pillars, and kept his nose on the floor. Groa his wife was + near him. Thorbjorn Neb was lying there too, and he and + Gizur had their heads close together. Thorbjorn could hear + Gizur praying to God in many ways and fervently, and thought + he had never before heard praying like it. As for himself, + he could not have opened his mouth for the smoke. After that + Gizur stood up and Groa supported him, and he went to the + south porch. He was much distressed by the smoke and heat, + and thought to make his way out rather than be choked + inside. Gizur Glad was standing at the door, talking to + Kolbein Grön, and Kolbein was offering him quarter, for + there was a pact between them, that if ever it came to that, + they should give quarter to one another, whichever of them + had it in his power. Gizur stood behind Gizur Glad, his + namesake while they were talking, and got some coolness the + while. Gizur Glad said to Kolbein, "I will take quarter for + myself, if I may bring out another man along with me." + Kolbein agreed to this at once, excepting only Gizur and his + sons. + + Then Ingibjorg, Sturla's daughter, came to Groa at the door; + she was in her nightgown, and barefoot. She was then in her + fourteenth year, and tall and comely to see. Her silver belt + had tangled round her feet as she came from her bedroom. + There was on it a purse with many gold rings of hers in it; + she had it there with her. Groa was very glad to see her, + and said that there should be one lot for both of them, + whatever might befall. + + When Gizur had got himself cooled a little, he gave up his + thought of dashing out of the house. He was in linen + clothes, with a mail-coat over them, and a steel cap on his + head, and his sword _Corselet-biter_ in his hand. Groa was + in her nightgown only. Gizur went to Groa and took two gold + rings out of his girdle-pocket and put them into her hand, + because he thought that she would live through it, but not + he himself. One ring had belonged to Bishop Magnus his + uncle, and the other to his father Thorvald. + + "I wish my friends to have the good of these," he says, "if + things go as I would have them." + + Gizur saw that Groa took their parting much to heart. + + Then he felt his way through the house, and with him went + Gudmund the Headstrong, his kinsman, who did not wish to + lose sight of him. They came to the doors of the ladies' + room; and Gizur was going to make his way out there. Then he + heard outside the voices of men cursing and swearing, and + turned back from there. + + Now in the meantime Groa and Ingibjorg had gone to the door. + Groa asked for freedom for Ingibjorg. Kolbein heard that, + her kinsman, and asked Ingibjorg to come out to him. She + would not, unless she got leave to take some one out along + with her. Kolbein said that was too much to ask. Groa + besought her to go. + + "I have to look after the lad Thorlak, my sister's son," + says she. + + Thorlak was a boy of ten, the son of Thorleif the Noisy. He + had jumped out of the house before this, and his linen + clothes were all ablaze when he came down to the ground: he + got safe to the church. Some men say that Thorstein Genja + pushed Groa back into the fire; she was found in the porch + afterwards. Kolbein dashed into the fire for Ingibjorg, and + carried her out to the church. + + Then the house began to blaze up. A little after, Hall + Gizur's son [the bridegroom] came to the south door, and + Arni the Bitter, his henchman, with him. They were both very + hard put to it, and distressed by the heat. There was a + board across the doorway, half-way up. Hall did not stop to + look, but jumped straight out over the hatch. He had a sword + in one hand, and no weapon besides. Einar Thorgrimsson was + posted near where he leapt out, and hewed at his head with a + sword, and that was his death-wound. As he fell, another man + cut at his right leg below the knee and slashed it nearly + off. Thorleif the monk from Thverá, the brewer, had got out + before, and was in the yard; he took a sheepskin and put it + under Hall when Einar and the others went away; then he + rolled all together, Hall and the sheepskin, along to the + church when they were not looking. Hall was lightly clad, + and the cold struck deep into his wounds. The monk was + barefoot, and his feet were frostbitten, but he brought + himself and Hall to the church at last. + + Arni leapt out straight after Hall; he struck his foot on + the hatch (he was turning old) and fell as he came out. They + asked who that might be, coming in such a hurry. + + "Arni the Bitter is here," says he; "and I will not ask for + quarter. I see one lying not far away makes me like it well + enough if I travel the same road with him." + + Then said Kolbein: "Is there no man here remembers Snorri + Sturluson?"[62] + + [Footnote 62: Arni Beiskr (the Bitter) in company with Gizur + murdered Snorri Sturluson the historian at his house of + Reykholt, 22nd September 1241.] + + They both had a stroke at him, Kolbein and Ari Ingimund's + son, and more of them besides hewed at him, and he came by + his death there. + + Then the hall fell in, beginning from the north side into + the loft above the hall. Now all the buildings began to + flare up, except that the guest-house did not burn, nor the + ladies' room, nor the dairy. + + Now to go back to Gizur: he made his way through the house + to the dairy, with Gudmund, his kinsman, after him. Gizur + asked him to go away, and said that one man might find a way + of escape, if fate would have it so, that would not do for + two. Then Parson John Haldorsson came up; and Gizur asked + them both to leave him. He took off his coat of mail and his + morion, but kept his sword in his hand. Parson John and + Gudmund made their way from the dairy to the south door, and + got quarter. Gizur went into the dairy and found a curd-tub + standing on stocks; there he thrust the sword into the curds + down over the hilts. He saw close by a vat sunk in the earth + with whey in it, and the curd-tub stood over it and nearly + hid the sunken vat altogether. There was room for Gizur to + get into it, and he sat down in the whey in his linen + clothes and nothing else, and the whey came up to his + breast. It was cold in the whey. He had not been long there + when he heard voices, and their talk went thus, that three + men were meant to have the hewing of him; each man his + stroke, and no hurry about it, so as to see how he took it. + The three appointed were Hrani and Kolbein and Ari. And now + they came into the dairy with a light, and searched about + everywhere. They came to the vat that Gizur was in, and + thrust into it three or four times with spears. Then there + was a wrangle among them; some said there was something in + the vat, and others said no. Gizur kept his hand over his + belly, moving gently, so that they might be as long as + possible in finding out that there was anything there. He + had grazes on his hands, and all down to his knees skin + wounds, little and many. Gizur said afterwards that before + they came in he was shaking with cold, so that it rippled in + the vat, but after they came in he did not shiver at all. + They made two searches through the dairy, and the second + time was like the first. After that they went out and made + ready to ride away. Those men that still had life in them + were spared, to wit, Gudmund Falkason, Thord the Deacon, and + Olaf, who was afterwards called Guest, whose life Einar + Thorgrimsson had attempted before. By that time it was dawn. + +There is one passage in the story of Flugumyri, before the scene of +the burning, in which the narrative is heightened a little, as if the +author were conscious that his subject was related to the matter of +heroic poetry, or as if it had at once, like the battle of Maldon, +begun to be magnified by the popular memory into the likeness of +heroic battles. It is in the description of the defence of the hall +(_skáli_) at Flugumyri, before the assailants were driven back and had +to take to fire, as is told above. + + Eyjolf and his companions made a hard assault on the hall. + Now was there battle joined, and sharp onset, for the + defence was of the stoutest. They kept at it far into the + night, and struck so hard (say the men who were there) that + fire flew, as it seemed, when the weapons came together. + Thorstein Gudmund's son said afterwards that he had never + been where men made a braver stand; and all are agreed to + praise the defence of Flugumyri, both friends and enemies. + +The fire of the swords which is here referred to by the way, and with +something like an apology for exaggeration, is in the poem of +_Finnesburh_ brought out with emphasis, as a proper part of the +composition:-- + + swurdléoma stód, + Swylce eall Finnesburh fýrenu wáere. + + The sword-light rose, as though all Finnsburgh were aflame. + +It is characteristic of the Icelandic work that it should frequently +seem to reflect the incidents of epic poetry in a modified way. The +Sagas follow the outlines of heroic poetry, but they have to reduce +the epic magnificence, or rather it would be truer to say that they +present in plain language, and without extravagance, some of the +favourite passages of experience that have been at different times +selected and magnified by epic poets. Thus the death of Skarphedinn is +like a prose rendering of the death of Roland; instead of the last +stroke of the hero in his agony, cleaving the rock with Durendal, it +is noted simply that Skarphedinn had driven his axe into the beam +before him, in the place where he was penned in, and there the axe was +found when they came to look for him after the burning. The moderation +of the language here does not conceal the intention of the writer that +Skarphedinn's last stroke is to be remembered. It is by touches such +as these that the heroic nature of the Sagas is revealed. In spite of +the common details and the prose statement, it is impossible to +mistake their essential character. They are something loftier than +history, and their authors knew it. When history came to be written as +it was written by Sturla, it still retained this distinction. It is +history governed by an heroic spirit; and while it is closely bound to +the facts, it is at the same time controlled and directed by the +forms of an imaginative literature that had grown up in greater +freedom and at a greater distance from its historical matter. Sturla +uses, for contemporary history, a kind of narrative created and +perfected for another purpose, namely for the imaginative +reconstruction and representation of tradition, in the stories of +Njal, Grettir, and Gisli. + +There is no distortion or perversion in this choice and use of his +instrument, any more than in Fielding's adaptation of the method of +_Joseph Andrews_ to the matter of the _Voyage to Lisbon_. In the first +place, the imaginative form of narrative obliges the author to take +his subject seriously and treat it with dignity; he cannot leave it +crude and unformed. In the second place, there is a real affinity, in +Iceland, between the subject-matters of the true history and the +heroic Saga; the events are of the same kind, the personages are not +unlike. + +The imaginative treatment of the stories of Njal and Gisli had been +founded on real knowledge of life; in _Sturlunga_ the history of real +life is repaid for its loan. In Sturla's book, the contemporary alarms +and excursions, the midnight raids, the perils and escapes, the death +of the strong man, the painful ending of the poor-spirited, all the +shocks and accidents of his own time, are comprehended by the author +in the light of the traditional heroics, and of similar situations in +the imaginative Sagas; and so these matters of real life, and of the +writer's own experience, or near it, come to be co-ordinated, +represented, and made intelligible through imagination. _Sturlunga_ is +something more than a bare diary, or a series of pieces of evidence. +It has an author, and the author understands and appreciates the +matter in hand, because it is illuminated for him by the example of +the heroic literature. He carries an imaginative narrative design in +his head, and things as they happen fall into the general scheme of +his story as if he had invented them. + +How much this imaginative kind of true history is bound and indebted +to its native land, how little capable of transportation, is proved in +a very striking and interesting way by Sturla's other work, his essay +in foreign history, the _Life of King Hacon of Norway_. The _Hákonar +Saga_, as compared with _Sturlunga_, is thin, grey, and abstract. It +is a masterly book in its own kind; fluent and clear, and written in +the inimitable Icelandic prose. The story is parallel to the history +of Iceland, contemporary with _Sturlunga_. It tells of the agonies of +Norway, a confusion no less violent and cruel than the anarchy of +Iceland in the same sixty years; while the Norwegian history has the +advantage that it comes to an end in remedy, not in exhaustion. There +was no one in Iceland like King Hacon to break the heads of the +disorderly great men, and thus make peace in an effective way. +_Sturlunga_, in Iceland, is made up of mere anarchy; _Hákonar Saga_ is +the counterpart of _Sturlunga_, exhibiting the cure of anarchy in +Norway under an active king. But while the political import of +Sturla's _Hacon_ is thus greater, the literary force is much less, in +comparison with the strong work of _Sturlunga_. There is great +dexterity in the management of the narrative, great lucidity; but the +vivid imagination shown in the story of Flugumyri, and hardly less in +other passages of _Sturlunga_, is replaced in the life of Hacon by a +methodical exposition of facts, good enough as history, but seldom +giving any hint of the author's reserve of imaginative force. It is +not that Sturla does not understand his subject. The tragedy of Duke +Skule does not escape him; he recognises the contradiction in the +life of Hacon's greatest rival, between Skule's own nobility and +generosity of temper, and the hopelessness of the old scrambling +misrule of which he is the representative. But the tragedy of the +_Rival Kings_ (_Kongsemnerne_) is left for Ibsen to work out in full; +the portraits of Skule and Hacon are only given in outline. In the +part describing Hacon's childhood among the veterans of the Old Guard +(Sverre's men, the "ancient Birchlegs"), and in a few other places, +there is a lapse into the proper Icelandic manner. Elsewhere, and in +the more important parts of the history especially, it would seem as +if the author had gone out of his way to find a sober and colourless +pattern of work, instead of the full and vivid sort of story that came +natural to him. + +After Sturla, and after the fall of the Commonwealth of Iceland, +although there were still some interesting biographies to be +written--the _Life of Bishop Arne_, the _Life of Bishop Laurence_--it +may be reckoned that the heroic strain is exhausted. After that, it is +a new world for Iceland, or rather it is the common medieval world, +and not the peculiar Icelandic version of an heroic age. After the +fourteenth century the historical schools die out into meagre annals; +and even the glorious figure of Jón Arason, and the tragic end of the +Catholic bishop, the poet, the ruler, who along with his sons was +beheaded in the interests of the Reformed Religion and its adherents, +must go without the honours that were freely paid in the thirteenth +century to bishops and lords no more heroic, no more vehement and +self-willed. The history of Jón Arason has to be made out and put +together from documents; his Saga was left unwritten, though the facts +of his life and death may seem to prove that the old spirit lived +long after the failure of the old literature. + +The thirteenth century, the century of Snorri Sturluson and of Sturla +his nephew, is also the age of Villehardouin and Joinville. That is to +say, the finished historical work of the Icelandic School is +contemporary with the splendid improvisations and first essays of +French historical prose. The fates of the two languages are an +instance of "the way that things are shared" in this world, and may +raise some grudges against the dispensing fortune that has ordered the +_Life of St. Louis_ to be praised, not beyond its deserts, by century +after century, while the Northern masterpieces are left pretty much to +their own island and to the antiquarian students of the Northern +tongues. This, however, is a consideration which does not touch the +merits of either side. It is part of the fate of Icelandic literature +that it should not be influential in the great world, that it should +fall out of time, and be neglected, in the march of the great nations. +It is in this seclusion that its perfection is acquired, and there is +nothing to complain of. + +A comparison of the two contemporaries, Sturla and Joinville, brings +out the difference between two admirable varieties of history, dealing +with like subjects. The scenery of the _Life of St. Louis_ is +different from that of _Sturlunga_, but there is some resemblance in +parts of their themes, in so far as both narrate the adventures of +brave men in difficult places, and both are told by authors who were +on the spot themselves, and saw with their own eyes, or heard directly +from those who had seen. As a subject for literature there is not much +to choose between St. Louis in Egypt in 1250 and the burning of +Flugumyri three years later, though the one adventure had all the eyes +of the world upon it, and the other was of no more practical interest +to the world than floods or landslips or the grinding of rocks and +stones in an undiscovered valley. Nor is there much to choose between +the results of the two methods; neither Sturla nor Joinville has +anything to fear from a comparison between them. + +Sometimes, in details, there is a very close approximation of the +French and the Icelandic methods. Joinville's story, for example, of +the moonlight adventure of the clerk of Paris and the three robbers +might go straight into Icelandic. Only, the seneschal's opening of the +story is too personal, and does not agree with the Icelandic manner of +telling a story:-- + + As I went along I met with a wagon carrying three dead men + that a clerk had slain, and I was told they were being + brought for the king to see. When I heard this I sent my + squire after them, to know how it had fallen out. + +The difference between the two kinds is that Joinville, being mainly +experimental and without much regard for the older precedents and +models of historical writing, tells his story in his own way, as +memoirs, in the order of events as they come within his view, +revealing his own sentiments and policy, and keeping a distinction +between the things he himself saw and the things he did not see. +Whereas Sturla goes on the lines that had been laid down before him, +and does not require to invent his own narrative scheme; and further, +the scheme he receives from his masters is the opposite of Joinville's +personal memories. Though Sturla in great part of his work is as near +the reality as Joinville, he is obliged by the Icelandic custom to +keep himself out of the story, except when he is necessary; and then +he only appears in the third person on the same terms as the other +actors, with nothing except perhaps a greater particularity in +description to show that the author is there himself in the thick of +it. To let the story take care of itself is the first rule of the +Icelandic authors. If they have any emotion or sentiment of their own, +it must go into the story impersonally; it must inform or enliven the +characters and their speeches; it must quicken the style +unobtrusively, or else it must be suppressed. The parts of the Sagas +that are most touching, such as the death of Njal, and the parting of +Grettir and his mother, though they give evidence of the author's +sensibility, never allow him a word for himself. The method is the +method of Homer--[Greek: dolôi d' ho ge dakrya keuthen]--"he would not +confess that he wept." + +In Joinville, on the contrary, all the epic matter of the story is +surveyed and represented not as a drama for any one to come and look +at, and make his own judgment about it, but as the life of himself, +the Sire de Joinville, Seneschal of Champagne, known and interpreted +to himself first of all. It is barely possible to conceive the _Life +of St. Louis_ transposed into the mood of the _Odyssey_ or of _Njála_. +It is hard to see who would be a gainer thereby--certainly not St. +Louis himself. He would be deprived, for instance, of what is at once +the most heroic and the most trifling of all the passages in his +story, which belongs altogether to Joinville, and is worth nothing +except as he tells it, and because he tells it. The story of +Joinville's misunderstanding of the king, and the king's way of taking +it, on occasion of the Council at Acre and the question whether to +return or to stay and recover the prisoners from the Saracens, is not +only the whole _Life of St. Louis_ summed up and put into one chapter, +but it is also one of those rarest passages of true history in which a +character whom we thought we knew is presented with all his qualities +intensified in a momentary act or speech. It is as if the dulness of +custom were magically broken, and the familiar character stood out, +not different from himself, but with a new expression. In this great +scene the Barons were for returning home, and put forward Guy +Malvoisin their foreman to state their opinion. Joinville took the +other side, remembering the warning of a kinsman of his own not to +return in a hurry and forget the Lord's poor servants (_le peuple menu +Nostre Signour_). There was no one there but had friends in prison +among the Saracens, "so they did not rebuke me," says Joinville; but +only two ventured to speak on his side, and one of these was shouted +at (_mout felonessement_) by his uncle, the good knight Sir Jehan de +Beaumont, for so doing. The king adjourned the Council for a week. +What follows is a kind of narrative impossible under the Homeric or +the Icelandic conditions--no impersonal story, but a record of +Joinville's own changes of mind as he was played upon by the mind of +the king; an heroic incident, but represented in a way quite different +from any epic manner. Joinville describes the breaking up of the +Council, and how he was baited by them all: "The king is a fool, Sire +de Joinville, if he does not take your advice against all the council +of the realm of France"; how he sat beside the king at dinner, but the +king did not speak to him; how he, Joinville, thought the king was +displeased; and how he got up when the king was hearing grace, and +went to a window in a recess and stuck his arms out through the bars, +and leant there gazing out and brooding over the whole matter, making +up his mind to stay, whatever happened to all the rest; till some one +came behind him and put his hands on his head at the window and held +him there, and Joinville thought it was one of the other side +beginning to bother him again (_et je cuidai que ce fust mes sires +Phelippes d'Anemos, qui trop d'ennui m'avoit fait le jour pour le +consoil que je li avoie donnei_), till as he was trying to get free he +saw, by a ring on the hand, that it was the king. Then the king asked +him how it was that he, a young man, had been bold enough to set his +opinion against all the wisdom of France; and before their talk ended, +let him see that he was of the same mind as Joinville. + +This personal kind of story, in which an heroic scene is rendered +through its effect on one particular mind, is quite contrary to the +principles of the Icelandic history, except that both kinds are +heroic, and both are alive. + +Joinville gives the succession of his own emotions; the Icelandic +narrators give the succession of events, either as they might appear +to an impartial spectator, or (on occasion) as they are viewed by some +one in the story, but never as they merely affect the writer himself, +though he may be as important a personage as Sturla was in the events +of which he wrote the Chronicle. The subject-matter of the Icelandic +historian (whether his own experience or not) is displayed as +something in which he is not more nearly concerned than other people; +his business is to render the successive moments of the history so +that any one may form a judgment about them such as he might have +formed if he had been there. Joinville, while giving his own changes +of mind very clearly, is not as careful as the Icelandic writers are +about the proper order of events. Thus an Icelander would not have +written, as Joinville does, "the king came and put his hands on my +head"; he would have said, "John found that his head was being held"; +and the discovery by means of the ring would have been the first +direct intimation who it was. The story as told by Joinville, though +it is so much more intimate than any of the Sagas, is not as true to +the natural order of impressions. He follows out his own train of +sentiment; he is less careful of the order of perception, which the +Icelanders generally observe, and sometimes with extraordinary effect. + +Joinville's history is not one of a class, and there is nothing equal +to it; but some of the qualities of his history are characteristic of +the second medieval period, the age of romance. His prose, as compared +with that of Iceland, is unstudied and simple, an apparently +unreserved confession. The Icelandic prose, with its richness of +contents and its capability of different moods, is by comparison +resolute, secure, and impartial; its authors are among those who do +not give their own opinion about their stories. Joinville, for all his +exceptional genius in narrative, is yet like all the host of medieval +writers except the Icelandic school, in his readiness to give his +opinion, to improve the occasion, and to add to his plain story +something like the intonation of the preacher. Inimitable as he is, to +come from the Icelandic books to Joinville is to discover that he is +"medieval" in a sense that does not apply to those; that his work, +with all its sobriety and solidity, has also the incalculable and +elusive touch of fantasy, of exaltation, that seems to claim in a +special way the name of Romance. + + +VIII + +THE NORTHERN PROSE ROMANCES + +The history of the Sturlungs is the last great work of the classical +age of Icelandic literature, and after it the end comes pretty +sharply, as far as masterpieces are concerned. There is, however, a +continuation of the old literature in a lower degree and in degenerate +forms, which if not intrinsically valuable, are yet significant, as +bringing out by exaggeration some of the features and qualities of the +older school, and also as showing in a peculiar way the encroachments +of new "romantic" ideas and formulas. + +One of the extant versions of the _Foster-brothers' Story_ is +remarkable for its patches of euphuistic rhetoric, which often appear +suddenly in the course of plain, straightforward narrative. These +ornamental additions are not all of the same kind. Some of them are of +the alliterative antithetical kind which is frequently found in the +old Northern ecclesiastical prose,[63] and which has an English +counterpart in the alliterative prose of Ćlfric. Others are more +unusual; they are borrowed not from the Latin ecclesiastical school of +prose, but from the terms of the Northern poetry, and their effect is +often very curious. For instance, on page 13 there is a sudden break +from the common, unemphatic narrative of a storm at sea ("they were +drenched through, and their clothes froze on them") into the +incongruous statement that "the daughters of Ran (the sea-goddess) +came and wooed them and offered them rest in their embraces,"--a +conceit which might possibly be mistaken by a modern reader for the +fancy of Hans Andersen, but which is really something quite different, +not "pathetic fallacy," but an irruption of metaphorical rhetoric from +the poetical dictionary. There is another metaphorical flare-up on the +next page, equally amazing, in its plain context:-- + + She gave orders to take their clothes and have them thawed. + After that they had supper and were shown to bed. They were + not long in falling asleep. Snow and frost held all the + night through; _all that night the Dog (devourer) of the + elder-tree howled with unwearying jaws and worried the earth + with grim fangs of cold_. And when it began to grow light + towards daybreak, a man got up to look out, and when he came + in Thorgeir asked what sort of weather it was outside; + +and so on in the ordinary sober way. It is not surprising that an +editor should have been found to touch up the plain text of a Saga +with a few ornamental phrases here and there. Considering the amount +of bad taste and false wit in the contemporary poetry, the wonder is +that there should be such a consistent exclusion of all such things +from the prose of the Sagas. The _Fóstbrćđra_ variations show the +beginning of a process of decay, in which the lines of separation +between prose and poetry are cut through. + +[Footnote 63: _Fóstbr._ (1852) p. 8: "Ţví at ekki var hjarta hans seen +fóarn í fugli: ekki var ţat blóđfullt svá at ţat skylfi af hrćzlu, +heldr var ţat herdt af enum hćsta höfuđsmiđ í öllum hvatleik." ("His +heart was not fashioned like the crop in a fowl: it was not gorged +with blood that it should flutter with fear, but was tempered by the +High Headsmith in all alacrity.")] + +Except, however, as an indication of a general decline of taste, these +diversions in _Fóstbrćđra Saga_ do not represent the later and +secondary schools of Icelandic narrative. They remain as exceptional +results of a common degeneracy of literature; the prevailing forms are +not exactly of this special kind. Instead of embroidering poetical +diction over the plain text of the old Sagas, the later authors +preferred to invent new stories of their own, and to use in them the +machinery and vocabulary of the old Sagas. Hence arose various orders +of romantic Saga, cut off from the original sources of vitality, and +imitating the old forms very much as a modern romanticist might +intimate them. One of the best, and one of the most famous, of these +romantic Sagas is the story of Frithiof the Bold, which was chosen by +Tegnér as the groundwork of his elegant romantic poem, a brilliant +example of one particular kind of modern medievalism. The significance +of Tegnér's choice is that he went for his story to the secondary +order of Sagas. The original _Frithiof_ is almost as remote as Tegnér +himself from the true heroic tradition; and, like Tegnér's poem, makes +up for this want of a pedigree by a study and imitation of the great +manner, and by a selection and combination of heroic traits from the +older authentic literature. Hence Tegnér's work, an ingenious +rhetorical adaptation of all the old heroic motives, is already half +done for him by the earlier romanticist; the original prose Frithiof +is the same romantic hero as in the Swedish poem, and no more like the +men of the Icelandic histories than Raoul de Bragelonne is like +D'Artagnan. At the same time, it is easy to see how the authentic +histories have supplied materials for the romance; as has been shown +already, there are passages in the older Sagas that contain some +suggestions for the later kind of stories, and the fictitious hero is +put together out of reminiscences of Gunnar and Kjartan. + +The "romantic movement" in the old Northern literature was greatly +helped by foreign encouragement from the thirteenth century onward, +and particularly by a change of literary taste at the Court of Norway. +King Sverre at the end of the twelfth century quotes from the old +Volsung poem; he perhaps kept the Faroese memory for that kind of +poetry from the days of his youth in the islands. Hakon Hakonsson, two +generations later, had a different taste in literature and was fond of +French romances. It was in his day that the work of translation from +the French began; the results of which are still extant in +_Strengleikar_ (the Lays of Marie de France), in _Karlamagnus Saga_, +in the Norwegian versions of Tristram, Perceval, Iwain, and other +books of chivalry.[64] These cargoes of foreign romance found a ready +market in the North; first of all in Norway, but in Iceland also. They +came to Iceland just at the time when the native literature, or the +highest form of it at any rate, was failing; the failure of the native +literature let in these foreign competitors. The Norwegian +translations of French romances are not the chief agents in the +creation of the secondary Icelandic School, though they help. The +foreigners have contributed something to the story of Frithiof and the +story of Viglund. The phrase _náttúra amorsins_ (= _natura amoris_) +in the latter work shows the intrusion even of the Romance vocabulary +here, as under similar conditions in Germany and England. But while +the old Northern literature in its decline is affected by the vogue of +French romance, it still retains some independence. It went to the bad +in its own way; and the later kinds of story in the old Northern +tongue are not wholly spurious and surreptitious. They have some claim +upon _Njála_ and _Laxdćla_; there is a strain in them that +distinguishes them from the ordinary professional medieval romance in +French, English, or German. + +[Footnote 64: "The first romantic Sagas"--_i.e._ Sagas derived from +French romance--"date from the reign of King Hakon Hakonsson +(1217-1263), when the longest and best were composed, and they appear +to cease at the death of King Hakon the Fifth (1319), who, we are +expressly told, commanded many translations to be made" (G. Vigfusson, +Prol. § 25).] + +When the Icelandic prose began to fail, and the slighter forms of +Romance rose up in the place of Epic history, there were two modes in +which the older literature might be turned to profit. For one thing, +there was plenty of romantic stuff in the old heroic poetry, without +going to the French books. For another thing, the prose stories of the +old tradition had in them all kinds of romantic motives which were fit +to be used again. So there came into existence the highly-interesting +series of Mythical Romances on the themes of the old Northern mythical +and heroic poetry, and another series besides, which worked up in its +own way a number of themes and conventional motives from the older +prose books. + +Mythical sagas had their beginning in the classical age of the North. +Snorri, with his stories of the adventures of the gods, is the leader +in the work of getting pure romance, for pure amusement, out of what +once was religious or heroic myth, mythological or heroic poetry. Even +Ari the Wise, his great predecessor, had done something of the same +sort, if the _Ynglinga Saga_ be his, an historical abstract of +Northern mythical history; though his aim, like that of Saxo +Grammaticus, is more purely scientific than is the case with Snorri. +The later mythical romances are of different kinds. The _Volsunga +Saga_ is the best known on account of its subject. The story of +Heidrek, instead of paraphrasing throughout like the Volsung book, +inserts the poems of Hervor and Angantyr, and of their descendants, in +a consecutive prose narrative. _Halfs Saga_ follows the same method. +The story of _Hrolf Kraki_, full of interest from its connexion with +the matter of _Beowulf_ and of Saxo Grammaticus, is more like +_Volsunga Saga_ in its procedure.[65] + +[Footnote 65: The Mythical Sagas are described and discussed by +Vigfusson, Prol. § 34.] + +The other class[66] contains the Sagas of _Frithiof_ and _Viglund_, +and all the fictitious stories which copy the style of the proper +Icelandic Sagas. Their matter is taken from the adventures of the +heroic age; their personages are idealised romantic heroes; romantic +formulas, without substance. + +[Footnote 66: _Ibid._ § 11, "Spurious Icelandic Sagas" +(_Skrök-Sögur_). For _Frithiof_, see § 34.] + +Among the original Sagas there are some that show the beginning of the +process by which the substance was eliminated, and the romantic +_eidolon_ left to walk about by itself. The introductions of many of +the older Sagas, of _Gisli_ and _Grettir_ for example, giving the +adventures of the hero's ancestors, are made up in this way; and the +best Sagas have many conventional passages--Viking exploits, +discomfiture of berserkers, etc.--which the reader learns to take for +granted, like the tournaments in the French books, and which have no +more effect than simple adjectives to say that the hero is brave or +strong. Besides these stock incidents, there are ethical passages (as +has already been seen) in which the hero is in some danger of turning +into a figure of romance. Grettir, Gisli, Kjartan, Gunnlaug the +Wormtongue, Gunnar of Lithend, are all in some degree and at some +point or other in danger of romantic exaggeration, while Kari has to +thank his humorous squire, more than anything in himself, for his +preservation. Also in the original Sagas there are conventions of the +main plot, as well as of the episodes, such as are repeated with more +deliberation and less skill in the romantic Sagas. + +The love-adventures of Viglund are like those of Frithiof, and they +have a common likeness, except in their conclusion, to the adventures +of Kormak and Steingerd in _Kormaks Saga_. Kormak was too rude and +natural for romance, and the romancers had to make their heroes +better-looking, and to provide a happy ending. But the story of the +poet's unfortunate love had become a commonplace. + +The plot of _Laxdćla_, the story of the _Lovers of Gudrun_, which is +the Volsung story born again, became a commonplace of the same sort. +It certainly had a good right to the favour it received. The plot of +_Laxdćla_ is repeated in the story of Gunnlaug and Helga, even to a +repetition of the course of events by which Kjartan is defrauded. The +true lover is left in Norway and comes back too late; the second +lover, the dull, persistent man, contrasted with a more brilliant but +less single-minded hero, keeps to his wooing and spreads false +reports, and wins his bride without her goodwill. Compared with the +story of Kjartan and Gudrun, the story of Gunnlaug and Helga is +shallow and sentimental; the likeness to _Frithiof_ is considerable. + +The device of a false report, in order to carry off the bride of a man +absent in Norway, is used again in the story of _Thorstein the White_, +where the result is more summary and more in accordance with poetical +justice than in _Laxdćla_ or _Gunnlaug_. This is one of the best of +the Icelandic short stories, firmly drawn, with plenty of life and +variety in it. It is only in its use of what seems like a stock device +for producing agony that it resembles the more pretentious romantic +Sagas. + +Another short story of the same class and the same family tradition +(Vopnafjord), the story of _Thorstein Staffsmitten_, looks like a +clever working-up of a stock theme--the quiet man roused.[67] The +combat in it is less like the ordinary Icelandic fighting than the +combats in the French poems, more especially that of Roland and Oliver +in _Girart de Viane_; and on the whole there is no particular reason, +except its use of well-known East-country names, to reckon this among +the family histories rather than the romances. + +[Footnote 67: Translated by Mr. William Morris and Mr. E. Magnússon, +in the same volume as _Gunnlaug_, _Frithiof_, and _Viglund_ (_Three +Northern Love Stories_, etc., 1875).] + +Romantic Sagas of different kinds have been composed in Iceland, +century after century, in a more or less mechanical way, by the +repetition of old adventures, situations, phrases, characters, or +pretences of character. What the worst of them are like may be seen by +a reference to Mr. Ward's Catalogue of MS. Romances in the British +Museum, which contains a number of specimens. There is fortunately no +need to say anything more of them here. They are among the dreariest +things ever made by human fancy. But the first and freshest of the +romantic Sagas have still some reason in them and some beauty; they +are at least the reflection of something living, either of the romance +of the old mythology, or of the romantic grace by which the epic +strength of _Njal_ and _Gisli_ is accompanied. + +There are some other romantic transformations of the old heroic +matters to be noticed, before turning away from the Northern world and +its "twilight of the gods" to the countries in which the course of +modern literature first began to define itself as something distinct +from the older unsuccessful fashions, Teutonic or Celtic. + +The fictitious Sagas were not the most popular kind of literature in +Iceland in the later Middle Ages. The successors of the old Sagas, as +far as popularity goes, are to be found in the _Rímur_, narrative +poems, of any length, in rhyming verse; not the ballad measures of +Denmark, nor the short couplets of the French School such as were used +in Denmark and Sweden, in England, and in High and Low Germany, but +rhyming verse derived from the medieval Latin rhymes of the type best +known from the works of Bishop Golias.[68] This rhyming poetry was +very industrious, and turned out all kinds of stories; the native +Sagas went through the mill in company with the more popular romances +of chivalry. + +[Footnote 68: Vigfusson, Prol. p. cxxxviii. _C.P.B._, ii. 392. The +forms of verse used in the _Rímur_ are analysed in the preface to +_Riddara Rímur_, by Theodor Wisén (1881).] + +They were transformed also in another way. The Icelandic Sagas went +along with other books to feed the imagination of the ballad-singers +of the Faroes. Those islands, where the singing of ballads has always +had a larger share of importance among the literary and intellectual +tastes of the people than anywhere else in the world, have relied +comparatively little on their own traditions or inventions for their +ballad themes. Natural and popular as it is, the ballad poetry of the +Faroes is derived from Icelandic literary traditions. Even Sigmund +Brestisson, the hero of the islands, might have been forgotten but +for the _Fćreyinga Saga_; and Icelandic books, possibly near relations +of _Codex Regius_, have provided the islanders with what they sing of +the exploits of Sigurd and his horse Grani, as other writings brought +them the story of Roncesvalles. From Iceland also there passed to the +Faroes, along with the older legends, the stories of Gunnar and of +Kjartan; they have been turned into ballad measures, together with +_Roland_ and _Tristram_, in that refuge of the old songs of the +world. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE OLD FRENCH EPIC + +(_Chansons de Geste_) + + +It appears to be generally the case in all old epic literature, and it +is not surprising, that the existing specimens come from the end of +the period of its greatest excellence, and generally represent the +epic fashion, not quite at its freshest and best, but after it has +passed its culmination, and is already on the verge of decline. This +condition of things is exemplified in _Beowulf_; and the Sagas also, +here and there, show signs of over-refinement and exhaustion. In the +extant mass of old French epic this condition is enormously +exaggerated. The _Song of Roland_ itself, even in its earliest extant +form, is comparatively late and unoriginal; while the remainder of +French epic poetry, in all its variety, is much less authentic than +_Roland_, sensibly later, and getting rapidly and luxuriantly worse +through all the stages of lethargy. + +It is the misfortune of French epic that so much should have been +preserved of its "dotages," so little of the same date and order as +the _Song of Roland_, and nothing at all of the still earlier +epic--the more original _Roland_ of a previous generation. The +exuberance, however, of the later stages of French epic, and its long +persistence in living beyond its due time, are proof of a certain +kind of vitality. The French epic in the twelfth century, long after +its best days were over, came into the keenest and closest rivalry +with the younger romantic schools in their first vigour. Fortune has +to some extent made up for the loss of the older French poems by the +preservation of endless later versions belonging in date to the +exciting times of the great romantic revolution in literature. Feeble +and drowsy as they often are, the late-born hosts of the French epic +are nevertheless in the thick of a great European contest, matched not +dishonourably against the forces of Romance. They were not the +strongest possible champions of the heroic age, but they were _there_, +in the field, and in view of all spectators. At this distance of time, +we can see how much more fully the drift of the old Teutonic world was +caught and rendered by the imagination of Iceland; how much more there +is in Grettir or Skarphedinn than in Ogier the Dane, or Raoul de +Cambrai, or even Roland and Oliver. But the Icelandic work lay outside +of the consciousness of Europe, and the French epic was known +everywhere. There are no such masterpieces in the French epic as in +the Icelandic prose. The French epic, to make up for that, has an +exciting history; it lived by antagonism, and one may look on and see +how the _chansons de geste_ were fighting for their life against the +newer forms of narrative poetry. In all this there is the interest of +watching one of the main currents of history, for it was nothing less +than the whole future imaginative life of Europe that was involved in +the debate between the stubborn old epic fashion and the new romantic +adventurers. + +The _chansons de geste_ stand in a real, positive, ancestral relation +to all modern literature; there is something of them in all the poetry +of Europe. The Icelandic histories can make no such claim. Their +relation to modern life is slighter, in one sense; more spiritual, in +another. They are not widely known, they have had no share in +establishing the forms or giving vogue to the commonplaces of modern +literature. Now that they are published and accessible to modern +readers, their immediate and present worth, for the friends of +Skarphedinn and Gunnar, is out of all proportion to their past +historical influence. They have anticipated some of the literary +methods which hardly became the common property of Europe till the +nineteenth century; even now, when all the world reads and writes +prose stories, their virtue is unexhausted and unimpaired. But this +spiritual affinity with modern imaginations and conversations, across +the interval of medieval romance and rhetoric, is not due to any +direct or overt relation. The Sagas have had no influence; that is the +plain historical fact about them. + +The historical influence and importance of the _chansons de geste_, on +the other hand, is equally plain and evident. Partly by their +opposition to the new modes of fiction, and partly by compliance with +their adversaries, they belong to the history of those great schools +of literature in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries from which all +modern imaginations in prose and rhyme are descended. The "dolorous +rout" of Roncesvalles, and not the tragedy of the Niblungs, still less +the history of Gunnar or of Njal, is the heroic origin of modern +poetry; it is remembered and renowned, [Greek: pasi melousa], among +the poets who have given shape to modern imaginative literature, while +the older heroics of the Teutonic migration are forgotten, and the +things of Iceland are utterly unknown. + +French epic has some great advantages in comparison with the epic +experiments of Teutonic verse. For one thing, it exists in great +quantity; there is no want of specimens, though they are not all of +the best sort or the best period. Further, it has no difficulty, only +too much ease, in keeping a long regular course of narrative. Even +_Beowulf_ appears to have attained to its epic proportions by a +succession of efforts, and with difficulty; it labours rather heavily +over the longer epic course. _Maldon_ is a poem that runs freely, but +here the course is shorter, and it carries much less weight. The +Northern poems of the "Elder Edda" never attain the right epic scale +at all; their abrupt and lyrical manner is the opposite of the epic +mode of narration. It is true that the _chansons de geste_ are far +from the perfect continuity of the Homeric narrative. _Roland_ is +described by M. Gaston Paris in terms not unlike those that are +applied by Ten Brink in his criticism of _Beowulf_:-- + + "On peut dire que la _Chanson de Roland_ (ainsi que toutes + nos plus anciennes chansons de geste) se développe non pas, + comme les počmes homériques, par un courant large et + ininterrompu, non pas, comme le _Nibelungenlied_, par des + battements d'ailes égaux et lents, mais par un suite + d'explosions successives, toujours arrętées court et + toujours reprenant avec soudaineté" (_Litt. fr. au moyen + âge_, p. 59). + +_Roland_ is a succession of separate scenes, with no gradation or +transition between them. It still bears traces of the lyrical origins +of epic. But the narrative, though broken, is neither stinted nor +laboured; it does not, like _Beowulf_, give the impression that it has +been expanded beyond the convenient limits, and that the author is +scant of breath. And none of the later _chansons de geste_ are so +restricted and reserved in their design as _Roland_; most of them are +diffuse and long. The French and the Teutonic epics are at opposite +extremes of style. + +The French epics are addressed to the largest conceivable +audience.[69] They are plain and simple, as different as possible from +the allusive brevity of the Northern poems. Even the plainest of the +old English poems, even _Maldon_, has to employ the poetical diction, +the unprosaic terms and figures of the Teutonic School. The +alliterative poetry down to its last days has a vocabulary different +from that of prose, and much richer. The French epic language is not +distinguished and made difficult in this way; it is "not prismatic but +diaphanous." Those who could understand anything could understand it, +and the _chansons de geste_ easily found currency in the market-place, +when they were driven by the new romances from their old place of +honour in "bower and hall." The Teutonic poetry, even at its simplest, +must have required more attention in its hearers than the French, +through the strangeness and the greater variety of its vocabulary. It +is less familiar, less popular. Whatever dignity may be acquired by +the French epic is not due to any special or elaborate convention of +phrase. Where it is weak, its poverty is not disguised, as in the +weaker portions of Teutonic poetry, by the ornaments and synonyms of +the _Gradus_. The commonplaces of French epic are not imposing.[70] +With this difference between the French and the Teutonic conventions, +there is all the more interest in a comparison of the two kinds, where +they come into comparison through any resemblance of their subjects or +their thought, as in _Byrhtnoth_ and _Roland_. + +[Footnote 69: G. Paris, Preface to _Histoire de la littérature +française_, edited by L. Petit de Julleville.] + +[Footnote 70: See the preface to _Raoul de Cambrai_, ed. Paul Meyer +(Anc. Textes), for examples of such _chevilles_; and also _Aimeri de +Narbonne_, p. civ.] + +The French epics have generally a larger political field, more +numerous armies, and more magnificent kings, than the Teutonic. In the +same degree, their heroism is different from that of the earlier +heroic age. The general motives of patriotism and religion, France and +Christendom, prevent the free use of the simpler and older motives of +individual heroism. The hero of the older sort is still there, but his +game is hindered by the larger and more complex political conditions +of France; or if these are evaded, still the mere size of the country +and numbers of the fighting-men tell against his importance; he is +dwarfed by his surroundings. The limitation of the scenes in the poems +of _Beowulf_, _Ermanaric_, and _Attila_ throws out the figures in +strong relief. The mere extent of the stage and the number of the +supernumeraries required for the action of most of the French stories +appear to have told against the definiteness of their characters; as, +on the other hand, the personages in _Beowulf_, without much +individual character of their own, seem to gain in precision and +strength from the smallness of the scene in which they act. There is +less strict economy in the _chansons de geste_. + +Apart from this, there is real and essential vagueness in their +characters; their drama is rudimentary. The simplicity of the French +epic style, which is addressed to a large audience and easily +intelligible, is not capable of much dramatic subtlety. It can be made +to express a variety of actions and a variety of moods, but these are +generally rendered by means of common formulas, without much dramatic +insight or intention. While the fragments of Teutonic epic seem to +give evidence of a growing dramatic imagination, and the Northern +poems, especially, of a series of experiments in character, the French +epic imagination appears to have remained content with its +established and abstract formulas for different modes of sentiment +and passion. It would not be easy to find anything in French epic that +gives the same impression of discovery and innovation, of the search +for dramatic form, of the absorption of the poet's mind in the pursuit +of an imaginary character, as is given, again and again, by the +Northern poems of the Volsung cycle. Yet the _chansons de geste_ are +often true and effective in their outlines of character, and include a +quantity of "humours and observation," though their authors seem to +have been unable to give solidity to their sketches. + +The weakness of the drama in the French epics, even more than their +compliance with foreign romance in the choice of incidents or +machinery, is against their claim to be reckoned in the higher order +of heroic narrative. They are romantic by the comparative levity of +their imagination; the story, with them, is too much for the +personages. But it is still the problem of heroic character that +engages them, however feebly or conventionally they may deal with it. +They rely, like the Teutonic epic and the Sagas, on situations that +test the force of character, and they find those situations in the +common conditions of an heroic age, subject of course to the +modifications of the comparatively late period and late form of +society to which they belong. _Roland_ is a variation on the one +perpetual heroic theme; it has a grander setting, a grander +accompaniment, than _Byrhtnoth_ or _Waldere_, but it is essentially +the old story of the heroic age,--no knight-errantry, but the last +resistance of a man driven into a corner. + +The greatness of the poem of _Roland_ is that of an author who knows +his own mind, who has a certain mood of the heroic imagination to +express, and is at no loss for his instrument or for the lines of his +work. + +The poem, as has been already noted, has a general likeness in its +plan to the story of Finnesburh as told in _Beowulf_, and to the poems +of the death of Attila. The plot falls into two parts, the second part +being the vengeance and expiation. + +Although the story is thus not absolutely simple, like the adventures +of Beowulf, no epic has a more magnificent simplicity of effect. The +other personages, Charlemagne, Ganelon, Oliver, King Marsile, have to +Roland nothing like the importance of Agamemnon, Ajax, Diomede, or +Hector, as compared with Achilles in the _Iliad_. The poem is almost +wholly devoted to the praise and glorification of a single hero; it +retains very much of the old manners of the earlier stages of epic +poetry, before it ceased to be lyric. It is a poem in honour of a +chieftain. + +At the same time, this lyrical tone in _Roland_ and this pathetic +concentration of the interest on one personage do not interfere with +the epic plan of the narrative, or disturb the lines of the +composition. The central part of the poem is on the Homeric scale; the +fighting, the separate combats, are rendered in an Homeric way. +_Byrhtnoth_ and _Roland_ are the works that have given the best +medieval counterpart to the battles of Homer. There is more of a +crisis and a climax in _Roland_ than in the several battles of the +_Iliad_, and a different sort of climax from that of _Byrhtnoth_. +Everything leads to the agony and heroic death of Roland, and to his +glory as the unyielding champion of France and Christendom. It is not +as in the _Iliad_, where different heroes have their day, or as at +Maldon, where the fall of the captain leads to the more desperate +defence and the more exalted heroism of his companions. Roland is the +absolute master of the _Song of Roland_. No other heroic poetry +conveys the same effect of pre-eminent simplicity and grandeur. There +is hardly anything in the poem except the single mood; its simplicity +is overpowering, a type of heroic resistance for all the later poets +of Europe. This impressive effect is aided, it is true, by an infusion +of the lyrical tone and by playing on the pathetic emotions. Roland is +ideal and universal, and the story of his defeat, of the blast of his +horn, and the last stroke of Durendal, is a kind of funeral march or +"heroic symphony" into which a meaning may be read for every new hero, +to the end of the world; for any one in any age whose _Mood is the +more as the Might lessens_. Yet although Roland has this universal or +symbolical or musical meaning--unlike the more individual personages +in the Sagas, who would resent being made into allegories--the total +effect is mainly due to legitimate epic means. There is no stinting of +the epic proportions or suppression of the epic devices. The _Song of +Roland_ is narrative poetry, a model of narrative design, with the +proper epic spaces well proportioned, well considered, and filled with +action. It may be contrasted with the _Death-Song of Ragnar Lodbrok_, +which is an attempt to get the same sort of moral effect by a process +of lyrical distillation from heroic poetry; putting all the strongest +heroic motives into the most intense and emphatic form. There is +something lyrical in _Roland_, but the poem is not governed by lyrical +principles; it requires the deliberation and the freedom of epic; it +must have room to move in before it can come up to the height of its +argument. The abruptness of its periods is not really an interruption +of its even flight; it is an abruptness of detail, like a broken sea +with a larger wave moving under it; it does not impair or disguise the +grandeur of the movement as a whole. + +There are other poems among the _chansons de geste_ which admit of +comparison with _Roland_, though _Roland_ is supreme; other epics in +which the simple motives of heroism and loyalty are treated in a +simple and noble way, without any very strong individual character +among the personages. Of these rather abstract expositions of the +heroic ideal, some of the finest are to be found in the cycle of +William of Orange, more especially in the poems relating the exploits +of William and his nephew Vivian, and the death of Vivian in the +battle against the Moors-- + + En icel jor que la dolor fu grans + Et la bataille orible en Aliscans. + +Like _Roland_, the poem of _Aliscans_ is rather lyrical in its effect, +reiterating and reinforcing the heroic motives, making an impression +by repetition of one and the same mood; a poem of the glorification of +France. It shows, at the same time, how this motive might be degraded +by exaggeration and amplification. There are too many Moors in it (as +also in _Roland_), and the sequel is reckless and extravagant, where +William of Orange rides to the king's court for help and discovers an +ally in the enormous scullion of the king's kitchen, Rainouart, the +Morgante of French epic. Rainouart, along with William of Orange, was +seen by Dante in Paradise. In his gigantic and discourteous way he was +one of the champions of Christendom, and his manners are interesting +as a variation from the conventional heroic standards. But he takes up +too much room; he was not invented by the wide and comprehensive epic +imagination which finds a place for many varieties of mankind in its +story, but by some one who felt that the old epic forms were growing +thin and unsatisfactory, and that there was need of some violent +diversion to keep the audiences awake. This new device is not +abandoned till Rainouart has been sent to Avalon--the epic form and +spirit losing themselves in a misappropriation of Romance. These +excursions are of course not to be ascribed to the central authors of +the cycle of William of Orange; but already even in the most heroic +parts of the cycle there are indications of the flagging imagination, +the failure of the old motives, which gave an opening to these wild +auxiliary forces. Where the epic came to trust too much to the mere +heroic sentiment, to the moral of _Roland_, to the contrast of knight +and infidel, there was nothing for it but either to have recourse to +the formal heroics of Camoens or Tasso,--for which the time had not +yet come,--or to be dissolved altogether in a medley of adventures, +and to pass from its old station in the front of literature to those +audiences of the market-place that even now, in some parts of the +world, have a welcome for Charlemagne and his peers.[71] + +[Footnote 71: _Historia Verdadera de Carlo Magno y los doce Pares de +Francia_: Madrid, 4to (1891), a chap-book of thirty-two pages.] + +Those of the French epics in which the motives of _Roland_ are in some +form or other repeated, in which the defence of Christendom is the +burden, are rightly considered the best representatives of the whole +body. But there are others in which with less dignity of theme there +is more freedom, and in which an older epic type, more akin to the +Teutonic, nearer in many ways to the Icelandic Sagas, is preserved, +and for a long time maintains itself distinct from all the forms of +romance and the romantic schools. It is not in _Roland_ or in +_Aliscans_ that the epic interest in character is most pronounced and +most effective. Those among the _chansons de geste_ which make least +of the adventures in comparison with the personages, which think more +of the tragic situation than of rapid changes of scene and incident, +are generally those which represent the feuds and quarrels between the +king and his vassals, or among the great houses themselves; the +anarchy, in fact, which belongs to an heroic age and passes from +experience into heroic literature. There is hardly any of the +_chansons de geste_ in which this element of heroic anarchy is not to +be found in a greater or less degree. In _Roland_, for example, though +the main action is between the French and the Moors, it is jealousy +and rivalry that bring about the catastrophe, through the treason of +Ganelon. This sort of jealousy, which is subordinate in _Roland_, +forms the chief motive of some of the other epics. These depend for +their chief interest on the vicissitudes of family quarrels almost as +completely as the Sagas. These are the French counterparts of +_Eyrbyggja_, and of the stories of Glum or Gisli. In France, as in +Iceland, the effect of the story is produced as much by the energy of +the characters as by the interest of adventures. Only in the French +epic, while they play for larger stakes, the heroes are incomparably +less impressive. The imagination which represents them is different in +kind from the Icelandic, and puts up with a very indefinite and +general way of denoting character. Though the extant poems are late, +some of them have preserved a very elementary psychology and a very +simple sort of ethics, the artistic formulas and devices of a +rudimentary stage which has nothing to correspond to it in the extant +Icelandic prose. + +_Raoul de Cambrai_ in its existing form is a late poem; it has gone +through the process of translation from assonance into rhyme, and like +_Huon of Bordeaux_, though by a different method, it has been fitted +with a romantic continuation. But the first part of the poem +apparently keeps the lines of an older and more original version. The +story is not one of the later cyclic fabrications; it has an +historical basis and is derived from the genuine epic tradition of +that tenth-century school which unfortunately is only known through +its descendants and its influence. _Raoul de Cambrai_, though in an +altered verse and later style, may be taken as presenting an old story +still recognisable in most of its original features, especially in its +moral. + +Raoul de Cambrai, a child at his father's death, is deprived of his +inheritance. To make up for this he is promised, later, the first fief +that falls vacant, and asserts his claim in a way that brings him into +continual trouble,--a story with great opportunities for heroic +contrasts and complications. The situation is well chosen; it is +better than that of the story of Glum, which is rather like +it[72]--the right is not all on one side. Raoul has a just cause, but +cannot make it good; he is driven to be unjust in order to come by his +own. Violence and excess in a just cause will make a tragic history; +there is no fault to be found with the general scheme or principle in +this case. It is in the details that the barbarous simplicity of the +author comes out. For example, in the invasion of the lands on which +he has a claim, Raoul attacks and burns a nunnery, and in it the +mother of his best friend and former squire, Bernier. The injured man, +his friend, is represented as taking it all in a helpless dull +expostulatory way. The author has no language to express any +imaginative passion; he can only repeat, in a muffled professional +voice, that it was really a very painful and discreditable affair. The +violent passions here are those of the heroic age in its most +barbarous form; more sudden and uncontrolled even than the anger of +Achilles. But with all their vehemence and violence there is no real +tragic force, and when the hero is killed by his friend, and the +friend is sorry afterwards, there is nothing but the mere formal and +abstract identity of the situation to recall to mind the tragedy of +Kjartan and Bolli. + +[Footnote 72: Glum, like Raoul, is a widow's son deprived of his +rights.] + +_Garin le Loherain_ is a story with a similar plot,--the estrangement +and enmity of old friends, "sworn companions." Though no earlier than +_Raoul de Cambrai_, though belonging in date to the flourishing period +of romance, it is a story of the older heroic age, and its contents +are epic. Its heroes are unsophisticated, and the incidents, +sentiments, and motives are primitive and not of the romantic school. +The story is much superior to _Raoul de Cambrai_ in speed and +lightness; it does not drag at the critical moments; it has some +humour and some grace. Among other things, its gnomic passages +represent very fairly the dominant heroic ideas of courage and good +temper; it may be appealed to for the humanities of the _chansons de +geste_, expressed in a more fluent and less emphatic shape than +_Roland_. The characters are taken very lightly, but at least they are +not obtuse and awkward. If there is not much dramatic subtlety, there +is a recognition and appreciation of different aspects of the same +character. The story proceeds like an Icelandic Saga, through +different phases of a long family quarrel, springing from a +well-marked origin; foreshadowed and accompanied, as in many of the +Sagas, by the hereditary felonious character of the one party, which +yet is not blackened too much nor wholly unrelieved. + +As in many of the Icelandic stories, there is a stronger dramatic +interest in the adversary, the wrong side, than in the heroes. As with +Kari and Flosi in _Njála_, as with Kjartan and Bolli in _Laxdćla_, and +with Sigmund and Thrond of Gata in _Fćreyinga Saga_, so in the story +of Garin it is Fromont the enemy whose case is followed with most +attention, because it is less simple than that of the heroes, Garin of +Lorraine and Begon his brother. The character of Fromont shows the +true observation, as well as the inadequate and sketchy handling, of +the French epic school. Fromont is in the wrong; all the trouble +follows from his original misconduct, when he refused to stand by +Garin in a war of defence against the Moors:-- + + Iluec comence li grans borroflemens. + +But Fromont's demeanour afterwards is not that of a traitor and a +felon, such as his father was. He belongs to a felonious house; he is +the son of Hardré, one of the notorious traitors of French epic +tradition; but he is less than half-hearted in his own cause, always +lamentable, perplexed, and peevish, always trying to be just, and +always dragged further into iniquity by the mischief-makers among his +friends. This idea of a distracted character is worked out as well as +was possible for a poet of that school, in a passage of narrative +which represents more than one of the good qualities of French epic +poetry,--the story of the death of Begon, and the vengeance exacted +for him by his brother Garin. This episode shows how the French poets +could deal with matter like that of the Sagas. The story is well told, +fluently and clearly; it contains some fine expressions of heroic +sentiment, and a good fight, as well as the ineffectual sorrows and +good intentions of the anti-hero Fromont, with all the usual tissue of +violence which goes along with a feud in heroic narrative, when the +feud is regarded as something impersonal and fatal, outside the wishes +of the agents in it. + +It may be said here that although the story of Garin and of the feud +between the house of Lorraine and their enemies is long drawn out and +copious in details, it is not confused, but falls into a few definite +episodes of warfare, with intervals of truce and apparent +reconciliation. Of these separate acts in the tragedy, the _Death of +Begon_ is the most complete in itself; the most varied, as well as the +most compact. The previous action is for a modern taste too much +occupied with the commonplaces of epic warfare, Homeric combats in the +field, such as need the heroic motives of Maldon or Roncesvalles to +make them interesting. In the story of the _Death of Begon_ there is a +change of scene from the common epic battlefield; the incidents are +not taken from the common stock of battle-poetry, and the Homeric +supernumeraries are dismissed. + +This episode[73] begins after an interval in the feud, and tells how +Begon one day thought of his brother Garin whom he had not seen for +seven years and more (the business of the feud having been slack for +so long), and how he set out for the East country to pay his brother a +visit, with the chance of a big boar-hunt on the way. The opening +passage is a very complete and lively selection from the experience +and the sentiments of the heroic age; it represents the old heroic +temper and the heroic standard of value, with, at the same time, a +good deal of the gentler humanities. + +[Footnote 73: _Garin le Loherain_, ed. Paulin Paris (1833-35), vol. +ii. pp. 217-272.] + + One day Begon was in his castle of Belin; at his side was + the Duchess Beatrice, and he kissed her on the mouth: he saw + his two sons coming through the hall (so the story runs). + The elder was named Gerin and the younger Hernaudin; the one + was twelve and the other was ten years old, and with them + went six noble youths, running and leaping with one another, + playing and laughing and taking their sport. + + The Duke saw them and began to sigh, and his lady questioned + him:-- + + "Ah, my Lord Duke, why do you ponder thus? Gold and silver + you have in your coffers; falcons on their perch, and furs + of the vair and the grey, and mules and palfreys; and well + have you trodden down your enemies: for six days' journey + round you have no neighbour so stout but he will come to + your levy." + + Said the Duke: "Madame, you have spoken true, save in one + thing. Riches are not in the vair and the grey, nor in + money, nor in mules and horses, but riches are in kinsmen + and friends: the heart of a man is worth all the gold in the + land. Do you not remember how I was assailed and beset at + our home-coming? and but for my friends how great had been + my shame that day! Pepin has set me in these marches where I + have none of my near friends save Rigaut and Hervi his + father; I have no brother but one, Garin the Lothering, and + full seven years are past and gone that I have not seen him, + and for that I am grieved and vexed and ill at ease. Now I + will set off to see my brother Garin, and the child Girbert + his son that I have never seen. Of the woods of Vicogne and + of St. Bertin I hear news that there is a boar there; I will + run him down, please the Lord, and will bring the head to + Garin, a wonder to look upon, for of its like never man + heard tell." + +Begon's combined motives are all alike honest, and his rhetoric is as +sound as that of Sarpedon or of Gunnar. Nor is there any reason to +suppose, any more than in the case of Byrhtnoth, that what is striking +in the poem is due to its comparative lateness, and to its +opportunities of borrowing from new discoveries in literature. If that +were so, then we might find similar things among the newer fashions +of the contemporary twelfth-century literature; but in fact one does +not find in the works of the romantic school the same kind of humanity +as in this scene. The melancholy of Begon at the thought of his +isolation--"Bare is back without brother behind it"--is an adaptation +of a common old heroic motive which is obscured by other more showy +ideas in the romances. The conditions of life are here essentially +those of the heroic age, an age which has no particular ideas of its +own, which lives merely on such ideas as are struck out in the +collision of lawless heavy bodies, in that heroic strife which is the +parent of all things, and, among the rest, of the ideas of loyalty, +fellowship, fair dealing, and so on. There is nothing romantic or +idealist in Begon; he is merely an honest country gentleman, rather +short of work. + +He continues in the same strain, after the duchess has tried to +dissuade him. She points out to him the risk he runs by going to hunt +on his enemy's marches,-- + + C'est en la marche Fromont le poësti, + +--and tells him of her foreboding that he will never return alive. His +answer is like that of Hector to Polydamas:-- + + Diex! dist il, dame, merveilles avez dit: + Ja mar croiroie sorciere ne devin; + Par aventure vient li biens el paďs, + Je ne lairoie, por tot l'or que Diex fist, + Que je n'i voise, que talens m'en est prins. + +The hunting of the boar is as good as anything of its kind in history, +and it is impossible to read it without wishing that it had been +printed a few years earlier to be read by Sir Walter Scott. He would +have applauded as no one else can this story of the chase and of the +hunter separated from his companions in the forest. There is one line +especially in the lament for Begon after his death which is enough by +itself to prove the soundness of the French poet's judgment, and his +right to a welcome at Abbotsford: "This was a true man; his dogs loved +him":-- + + Gentis hons fu, moult l'amoient si chien. + +Begon came by his death in the greenwood. The forester found him there +and reported him to Fromont's seneschal, who called out six of his men +to go and take the poacher; and along with them went Thibaut, +Fromont's nephew, an old rival of Begon. Begon set his back to an +aspen tree and killed four of the churls and beat off the rest, but +was killed himself at last with an arrow. + +The four dead men were brought home and Begon's horse was led away:-- + + En une estable menerent le destrier + Fronce et hennit et si grate des pies + Que nus de char ne li ouse aprochier. + +Begon was left lying where he fell and his three dogs came back to +him:-- + + Seul ont Begon en la forest laissié: + Et jouste lui revindrent si trois chien, + Hulent et braient com fuissent enragié. + +This most spirited passage of action and adventure shows the poet at +his best; it is the sort of thing that he understands, and he carries +it through without a mistake. It is followed by an attempt at another +theme where something more is required of the author, and his success +is not so perfect. He is drawn into the field of tragic emotion. Here, +though his means are hardly sufficient for elaborate work, he sketches +well. The character of Fromont when the news of his opponent's death +is brought to him comes out as something of a different value from the +sheer barbarism of _Raoul de Cambrai_. The narrative is light and +wanting in depth, but there is no untruth and no dulness in the +conception, and the author's meaning is perfectly clear. Fromont is +different from the felons of his own household. Fromont is the +adversary, but he is a gentleman. Even when he knows no more of the +event than that a trespasser has been killed in the forest, he sends +his men to bring in the body;-- + + Frans hons de l'autre doient avoir pitié + +--and when he sees who it is (_vif l'ot véu, mort le reconnut bien_) +he breaks out into strong language against the churls who have killed +the most courteous knight that ever bore arms. Mingled with this +sentiment is the thought of all the trouble to come from the revival +of the feud, but his vexation does not spring from mere self-interest. +Fromondin his son is also angry with Thibaut his cousin; Thibaut ought +to be flayed alive for his foul stroke. But while Fromondin is +thinking of the shame of the murder which will be laid to the account +of his father's house, Fromont's thought is more generous, a thought +of respect and regret for his enemy. The tragedy of the feud continues +after this; as before, Fromont is involved by his irrepressible +kinsmen, and nothing comes of his good thoughts and intentions. + + Our wills and fates do so contrary run, + Our thoughts are ours, the ends none of our own. + +This moral axiom is understood by the French author, and in an +imaginative, not a didactic way, though his imagination is not strong +enough to make much of it. + +In this free, rapid, and unforced narrative, that nothing might be +wanting of the humanities of the French heroic poetry, there is added +the lament for Begon, by his brother and his wife. Garin's lament is +what the French epic can show in comparison with the famous lament for +Lancelot at the end of the _Mort d'Arthur_:-- + + Ha! sire Begues, li Loherains a dit + Frans chevaliers, corajeus et hardis! + Fel et angris contre vos anemis + Et dols et simples a trestoz vos amis! + Tant mar i fustes, biaus frčres, biaus amis! + +Here the advantage is with the English romantic author, who has +command of a more subtle and various eloquence. On the other hand, the +scene of the grief of the Duchess Beatrice, when Begon is brought to +his own land, and his wife and his sons come out to meet him, shows a +different point of view from romance altogether, and a different +dramatic sense. The whole scene of the conversation between Beatrice +and Garin is written with a steady hand; it needs no commentary to +bring out the pathos or the dramatic truth of the consolation offered +by Garin. + + She falls fainting, she cannot help herself; and when she + awakens her lamenting is redoubled. She mourns over her + sons, Hernaudin and Gerin: "Children, you are orphans; dead + is he that begot you, dead is he that was your + stay!"--"Peace, madame," said Garin the Duke, "this is a + foolish speech and a craven. You, for the sake of the land + that is in your keeping, for your lineage and your lordly + friends--some gentle knight will take you to wife and + cherish you; but it falls to me to have long sorrow. The + more I have of silver and fine gold, the more will be my + grief and vexation of spirit. Hernaudin and Gerin are my + nephews; it will be mine to suffer many a war for them, to + watch late, and to rise up early."--"Thank you, uncle," + said Hernaudin: "Lord! why have I not a little habergeon of + my own? I would help you against your enemies!" The Duke + hears him, and takes him in his arms and kisses the child. + "By God, fair nephew, you are stout and brave, and like my + brother in face and mouth, the rich Duke, on whom God have + mercy!" When this was said, they go to bury the Duke in the + chapel beyond Belin; the pilgrims see it to this day, as + they come back from Galicia, from St. James.[74] + +[Footnote 74: One of the frequent morals of French epic (repeated also +by French romance) is the vanity of overmuch sorrow for the dead. + + [Greek: alla chrę ton men katathaptein hos ke thanęsin + nęlea thymon echontas, ep' ęmati dakrysantas.] + + (Odysseus speaking) _Il._ xix. 228. + + "Laissiez ester," li quens Guillaumes dit; + "Tout avenra ce que doit avenir; + Li mort as mors, li vif voissent as vis; + Duel sor dolor et joie sor joďr + Ja nus frans hons nel devroit maintenir." + Les cors enportent, les out en terre mis. + + _Garin_, i. p. 262.] + +_Roland_, _Raoul de Cambrai_, and _Garin le Loherain_ represent three +kinds of French heroic poetry. _Roland_ is the more purely heroic +kind, in which the interest is concentrated on the passion of the +hero, and the hero is glorified by every possible means of patriotism, +religion, and the traditional ethics of battle, with the scenery and +the accompaniments all chosen so as to bring him into relief and give +him an ideal or symbolical value, like that of the statues of the +gods. _Raoul_ and _Garin_, contrasted with _Roland_, are two varieties +of another species; namely, of the heroic poetry which (like the +_Odyssey_ and the Icelandic stories) represents the common life of an +heroic age, without employing the ideal motives of great causes, +religious or patriotic, and without giving to the personages any +great representative or symbolical import. The subjects of _Raoul_ and +_Garin_ belong to the same order. The difference between them is that +the author of the first is only half awake to the chances offered by +his theme. The theme is well chosen, not disabled, like so many +romantic plots, by an inherent fallacy of ethics or imagination; a +story that shapes itself naturally, if the author has the wit to see +it. The author of _Raoul de Cambrai_, unhappily, has "no more wit than +a Christian or an ordinary man," and leaves his work encumbered with +his dulness of perception; an evidence of the fertility of the heroic +age in good subjects, and of the incompetence of some of the artists. +_Garin_, on the other hand, shows how the common subject-matter might +be worked up by a man of intelligence, rather discursive than +imaginative, but alive to the meaning of his story, and before +everything a continuous narrator, with the gift of natural sequence in +his adventures. He relates as if he were following the course of +events in his own memory, with simplicity and lucidity, qualities +which were not beyond the compass of the old French verse and diction. +He does not stop to elaborate his characters; he takes them perhaps +too easily. But his lightness of spirit saves him from the untruth of +_Raoul de Cambrai_; and while his ethics are the commonplaces of the +heroic age, these commonplaces are not mere formulas or cant; they are +vividly realised. + +There is no need to multiply examples in order to prove the capacity +of French epic for the same kind of subjects as those of the Sagas; +that is, for the representation of strenuous and unruly life in a +comprehensive and liberal narrative, noble in spirit and not much +hampered by conventional nobility or dignity. + +_Roland_ is the great achievement of French epic, and there are other +poems, also, not far removed from the severity of _Roland_ and +inspired by the same patriotic and religious ardour. But the poem of +_Garin of Lorraine_ (which begins with the defence of France against +the infidels, but very soon passes to the business of the great +feud--its proper theme), though it is lacking in the political +motives, not to speak of the symbolical imagination of _Roland_, is +significant in another way, because though much later in date, though +written at a time when Romance was prevalent, it is both archaic in +its subject and also comprehensive in its treatment. It has something +like the freedom of movement and the ease which in the Icelandic Sagas +go along with similar antique subjects. The French epic poetry is not +all of it made sublime by the ideas of _Roland_; there is still scope +for the free representation of life in different moods, with character +as the dominant interest. + +It should not be forgotten that the French epic has room for comedy, +not merely in the shape of "comic relief," though that unhappily is +sometimes favoured by the _chansons de geste_, and by the romances as +well, but in the "humours" inseparable from all large and unpedantic +fiction. + +A good deal of credit on this account may be claimed for Galopin, the +reckless humorist of the party of Garin of Lorraine, and something +rather less for Rigaut the Villain Unwashed, another of Garin's +friends. This latter appears to be one of the same family as Hreidar +the Simple, in the Saga of Harald Hardrada; a figure of popular +comedy, one of the lubbers who turn out something different from their +promise. Clumsy strength and good-nature make one of the most +elementary compounds, and may easily be misused (as in _Rainouart_) +where the author has few scruples and no dramatic consistency. Galopin +is a more singular humorist, a ribald and a prodigal, yet of gentle +birth, and capable of good service when he can be got away from the +tavern. + +There are several passages in the _chansons de geste_ where, as with +_Rainouart_, the fun is of a grotesque and gigantic kind, like the fun +to be got out of the giants in the Northern mythology, and the trolls +in the Northern popular tales. The heathen champion Corsolt in the +_Coronemenz Looďs_ makes good comedy of this sort, when he accosts the +Pope: "Little man! why is your head shaved?" and explains to him his +objection to the Pope's religion: "You are not well advised to talk to +me of God: he has done me more wrong than any other man in the world," +and so on.[75] + +[Footnote 75: + + Respont li reis: "N'iés pas bien enseigniez, + Qui devant mei oses de Deu plaidier; + C'est l'om el mont qui plus m'a fait irier: + Mon pere ocist une foldre del ciel: + Tot i fu ars, ne li pot l'en aidier. + Quant Deus l'ot mort, si fist que enseigniez; + El ciel monta, ça ne voit repairier; + Ge nel poeie sivre ne enchalcier, + Mais de ses omes me sui ge puis vengiez; + De cels qui furent levé et baptisié + Ai fait destruire plus de trente miliers, + Ardeir en feu et en eve neier; + Quant ge la sus ne puis Deu guerreier, + Nul de ses omes ne vueil ça jus laissier, + Et mei et Deu n'avons mais que plaidier: + Meie est la terre et siens sera li ciels." + + _l.c._, l. 522. + +The last verse expresses the same sentiment as the answer of the +Emperor Henry when he was told to beware of God's vengeance: "Celum +celi Domino, terram autem dedit filiis hominum" (Otton. Frising. +_Gesta Frid._ i. 11).] + +Also, in a less exaggerated way, there is some appreciation of the +humour to be found in the contrast between the churl and the knight, +and their different points of view; as in the passage of the _Charroi +de Nismes_ where William of Orange questions the countryman about the +condition of the city under its Saracen masters, and is answered with +information about the city tolls and the price of bread.[76] It must +be admitted, however, that this slight passage of comedy is far +outdone by the conversation in the romance of _Aucassin and +Nicolette_, between Aucassin and the countryman, where the author of +that story seems to get altogether beyond the conventions of his own +time into the region of Chaucer, or even somewhere near the forest of +Arden. The comedy of the _chansons de geste_ is easily satisfied with +plain and robust practical jokes. Yet it counts for something in the +picture, and it might be possible, in a detailed criticism of the +epics, to distinguish between the comic incidents that have an +artistic value and intention, and those that are due merely to the +rudeness of those common minstrels who are accused (by their rivals in +epic poetry) of corrupting and debasing the texts. + +[Footnote 76: + + Li cuens Guillaumes li comença ŕ dire: + --Diva, vilain, par la loi dont tu vives + Fus-tu a Nymes, la fort cité garnie? + --Oďl, voir, sire, le paaige me quistrent; + Ge fui trop poures, si nel poi baillier mie. + Il me lessčrent por mes enfanz qu'il virent. + --Di moi, vilain, des estres de la vile. + Et cil respont:--Ce vos sai-ge bien dire + Por un denier .ii. granz pains i véismes; + La denerée vaut .iii. en autre vile: + Moult par est bone, se puis n'est empirie. + --Fox, dist Guillaume, ce ne demant-je mie, + Mčs des paiens chevaliers de la vile, + Del rei Otrant et de sa compaignie. + + _l.c._, ll. 903-916.] + +There were many ways in which the French epic was degraded at the +close of its course--by dilution and expansion, by the growth of a +kind of dull parasitic, sapless language over the old stocks, by the +general failure of interest, and the transference of favour to other +kinds of literature. Reading came into fashion, and the minstrels lost +their welcome in the castles, and had to betake themselves to more +vulgar society for their livelihood. At the same time, epic made a +stand against the new modes and a partial compliance with them; and +the _chansons de geste_ were not wholly left to the vagrant reciters, +but were sometimes copied out fair in handsome books, and held their +own with the romances. + +The compromise between epic and romance in old French literature is +most interesting where romance has invaded a story of the simpler kind +like _Raoul de Cambrai_. Stories of war against the infidel, stories +like those of William of Orange, were easily made romantic. The poem +of the _Prise d'Orange_, for example, an addition to this cycle, is a +pure romance of adventure, and a good one, though it has nothing of +the more solid epic in it. Where the action is carried on between the +knights of France and the Moors, one is prepared for a certain amount +of wonder; the palaces and dungeons of the Moors are the right places +for strange things to happen, and the epic of the defence of France +goes easily off into night excursions and disguises: the Moorish +princess also is there, to be won by the hero. All this is natural; +but it is rather more paradoxical to find the epic of family feuds, +originally sober, grave, and business-like, turning more and more +extravagant, as it does in the _Four Sons of Aymon_, which in its +original form, no doubt, was something like the more serious parts of +_Raoul de Cambrai_ or of the _Lorrains_, but which in the extant +version is expanded and made wonderful, a story of wild adventures, +yet with traces still of its origin among the realities of the heroic +age, the common matters of practical interest to heroes. + +The case of _Huon of Bordeaux_ is more curious, for there the original +sober story has been preserved, and it is one of the best and most +coherent of them all,[77] till it is suddenly changed by the sound of +Oberon's horn and passes out of the real world altogether. + +[Footnote 77: Cf. Auguste Longnon, "L'élément historique de Huon de +Bordeaux," _Romania_, viii.] + +The lines of the earlier part of the story are worth following, for +there is no better story among the French poems that represent the +ruder heroic age--a simple story of feudal rivalries and jealousies, +surviving in this strange way as an introduction to the romance of +_Oberon_. + +The Emperor Charlemagne, one hundred and twenty-five years old, but +not particularly reverend, holds a court at Paris one Whitsuntide and +asks to be relieved of his kingdom. His son Charlot is to succeed him. +Charlot is worthless, the companion of traitors and disorderly +persons; he has made enough trouble already in embroiling Ogier the +Dane with the Emperor. Charlemagne is infatuated and will have his son +made king:-- + + Si m'aďt Diex, tu auras si franc fiet + Com Damediex qui tot puet justicier + Tient Paradis de regne droiturier! + +Then the traitor Amaury de la Tor de Rivier gets up and brings forward +the case of Bordeaux, which has rendered no service for seven years, +since the two brothers, Huon and Gerard, were left orphans. Amaury +proposes that the orphans should be dispossessed. Charlemagne agrees +at once, and withdraws his assent again (a painful spectacle!) when +it is suggested to him that Huon and his brother have omitted their +duties in pure innocence, and that their father Sewin was always +loyal. + +Messengers are sent to bring Huon and Gerard to Paris, and every +chance is to be given them of proving their good faith to the Emperor. + +This is not what Amaury the traitor wants; he goes to Charlot and +proposes an ambuscade to lie in wait for the two boys and get rid of +them; his real purpose being to get rid of the king's son as well as +of Huon of Bordeaux. + +The two boys set out, and on the way fall in with the Abbot of Clugni, +their father's cousin, a strong-minded prelate, who accompanies them. +Outside Paris they come to the ambush, and the king's son is +despatched by Amaury to encounter them. What follows is an admirable +piece of narrative. Gerard rides up to address Charlot; Charlot rides +at him as he is turning back to report to Huon and the Abbot, and +Gerard who is unarmed falls severely wounded. Then Huon, also unarmed, +rides at Charlot, though his brother calls out to him: "I see helmets +flashing there among the bushes." With his scarlet mantle rolled round +his arm he meets the lance of Charlot safely, and with his sword, as +he passes, cuts through the helmet and head of his adversary. + +This is good enough for Amaury, and he lets Huon and his party ride on +to the city, while he takes up the body of Charlot on a shield and +follows after. + +Huon comes before the Emperor and tells his story as far as he knows +it; he does not know that the felon he has killed is the Emperor's +son. Charlemagne gives solemn absolution to Huon. Then appears Amaury +with a false story, making Huon the aggressor. Charlemagne forgets +all about the absolution and snatches up a knife, and is with +difficulty calmed by his wise men. + +The ordeal of battle has to decide between the two parties; there are +elaborate preparations and preliminaries, obviously of the most vivid +interest to the audience. The demeanour of the Abbot of Clugni ought +not to be passed over: he vows that if Heaven permits any mischance to +come upon Huon, he, the Abbot, will make it good on St. Peter himself, +and batter his holy shrine till the gold flies. + +In the combat Huon is victorious; but unhappily a last treacherous +effort of his enemy, after he has yielded and confessed, makes Huon +cut off his head in too great a hurry before the confession is heard +by the Emperor or any witnesses:-- + + Le teste fist voler ens el larris: + Hues le voit, mais ce fu sans jehir. + + The head went flying over the lea, but it had no more words + to speak. + +Huon is not forgiven by the Emperor; the Emperor spares his life, +indeed, but sends him on a hopeless expedition. + +And there the first part of the story ends. The present version is +dated in the early part of the reign of St. Louis; it is contemporary +with Snorri Sturluson and Sturla his nephew, and exhibits, though not +quite in the Icelandic manner, the principal motives of early unruly +society, without much fanciful addition, and with a very strong hold +upon the tragic situation, and upon the types of character. As in +_Raoul de Cambrai_, right and wrong are mixed; the Emperor has a real +grievance against Huon, and Huon, with little fault of his own, is put +apparently in the wrong. The interests involved are of the strongest +possible. There was not a single lord among those to whom the +minstrel repeated his story who did not know that he might have to +look out for encroachments and injustice--interference at any +rate--from the king, and treachery from his neighbours. No one hoped +to leave his castles and lands in peace to his son, who did not also +fear that his son might be left defenceless and his lands exposed to +competition; a fear most touchingly expressed in the lament of William +of Poitiers, when he set out on the first Crusade.[78] + +[Footnote 78: "Pos de chantar m'es pres talens:"--Raynouard, _Choix +des poésies des Troubadours_, iv. p. 83; Bartsch, _Chrestomathie +provençale_.] + +Whatever general influences of law or politics or social economy are +supposed to be at work in the story of _Huon of Bordeaux_,--and all +this earlier part of it is a story of feudal politics and legal +problems,--these influences were also present in the real world in +which the maker and the hearers of the poem had their life. It is +plain and serious dealing with matter of fact. + +But after the ordeal of battle in which Huon kills the traitor, the +tone changes with great abruptness and a new story begins. + +The commission laid upon Huon by the implacable and doting Emperor is +nothing less than that which afterwards was made a byword for all +impossible enterprises--"to take the Great Turk by the beard." He is +to go to Babylon and, literally, to beard the Admiral there, and carry +off the Admiral's daughter. The audience is led away into the wide +world of Romance. Huon goes to the East by way of Rome and +Brindisi--naturally enough--but the real world ends at Brindisi; +beyond that everything is magical. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +ROMANCE + +AND THE OLD FRENCH ROMANTIC SCHOOLS + + +Romance in many varieties is to be found inherent in Epic and in +Tragedy; for some readers, possibly, the great and magnificent forms +of poetry are most attractive when from time to time they forget their +severity, and when the tragic strength is allowed to rest, as in the +fairy interludes of the _Odyssey_, or the similes of the clouds, +winds, and mountain-waters in the _Iliad_. If Romance be the name for +the sort of imagination that possesses the mystery and the spell of +everything remote and unattainable, then Romance is to be found in the +old Northern heroic poetry in larger measure than any epic or tragic +solemnity, and in no small measure also even in the steady course of +the Icelandic histories. Possibly Romance is in its best place here, +as an element in the epic harmony; perhaps the romantic mystery is +most mysterious when it is found as something additional among the +graver and more positive affairs of epic or tragic personages. The +occasional visitations of the dreaming moods of romance, in the middle +of a great epic or a great tragedy, are often more romantic than the +literature which is nothing but romance from beginning to end. The +strongest poets, Homer, Dante, and Shakespeare, have along with their +strong reasoning enough of the lighter and fainter grace and charm to +be the despair of all the "romantic schools" in the world. In the +Icelandic prose stories, as has been seen already, there is a similar +combination. These stories contain the strongest imaginative work of +the Middle Ages before Dante. Along with this there is found in them +occasionally the uncertain and incalculable play of the other, the +more airy mode of imagination; and the romance of the strong Sagas is +more romantic than that of the medieval works which have no other +interest to rely upon, or of all but a very few. + +One of the largest and plainest facts of medieval history is the +change of literature in the twelfth century, and the sudden and +exuberant growth and progress of a number of new poetical forms; +particularly the courtly lyric that took shape in Provence, and passed +into the tongues of Italy, France, and Germany, and the French romance +which obeyed the same general inspiration as the Provençal poetry, and +was equally powerful as an influence on foreign nations. The French +Romantic Schools of the twelfth century are among the most definite +and the most important appearances even in that most wonderful age; +though it is irrational to contrast them with the other great +historical movements of the time, because there is no real separation +between them. French romance is part of the life of the time, and the +life of the twelfth century is reproduced in French romance. + +The rise of these new forms of story makes an unmistakable difference +between the age that preceded them and everything that comes after. +They are a new, fresh, and prosperous beginning in literature, and +they imply the failure of the older manner of thought, the older +fashion of imagination, represented in the epic literature of France, +not to speak of the various Teutonic forms of heroic verse and prose +that are related to the epic of France only by a remote common +ancestry, and a certain general likeness in the conditions of "heroic" +life. + +The defeat of French epic, as has been noted already, was slow and +long resisted; but the victory of romance was inevitable. Together +with the influence of the Provençal lyric idealism, it determined the +forms of modern literature, long after the close of the Middle Ages. +The change of fashion in the twelfth century is as momentous and +far-reaching in its consequences as that to which the name +"Renaissance" is generally appropriated. The later Renaissance, +indeed, in what concerns imaginative literature, makes no such abrupt +and sudden change of fashion as was made in the twelfth century. The +poetry and romance of the Renaissance follow naturally upon the +literature of the Middle Ages; for the very good reason that it was +the Middle Ages which began, even in their dark beginnings, the modern +study of the humanities, and in the twelfth century made a remarkable +and determined effort to secure the inheritance of ancient poetry for +the advantage of the new tongues and their new forms of verse. There +is no such line of division between Ariosto and Chrestien of Troyes as +there is between Chrestien and the primitive epic. + +The romantic schools of the twelfth century are the result and +evidence of a great unanimous movement, the origins of which may be +traced far back in the general conditions of education and learning, +in the influence of Latin authors, in the interchange of popular +tales. They are among the most characteristic productions of the most +impressive, varied, and characteristic period in the Middle Ages; of +that century which broke, decisively, with the old "heroic" +traditions, and made the division between the heroic and the +chivalric age. When the term "medieval" is used in modern talk, it +almost always denotes something which first took definite shape in the +twelfth century. The twelfth century is the source of most of the +"medieval" influences in modern art and literature, and the French +romances of that age are the original authorities for most of the +"Gothic" ornaments adopted in modern romantic schools. + +The twelfth-century French romances form a definite large group, with +many ranks and divisions, some of which are easily distinguished, +while all are of great historical interest. + +One common quality, hardly to be mistaken, is that which marks them +all as belonging to a romantic _school_, in almost all the modern +senses of that term. That is to say, they are not the spontaneous +product of an uncritical and ingenuous imagination; they are not the +same sort of thing as the popular stories on which many of them are +founded; they are the literary work of authors more or less +sophisticated, on the look-out for new sensations and new literary +devices. It is useless to go to those French books in order to catch +the first fresh jet of romantic fancy, the "silly sooth" of the golden +age. One might as well go to the _Légende des Sičcles_. Most of the +romance of the medieval schools is already hot and dusty and fatigued. +It has come through the mills of a thousand active literary men, who +know their business, and have an eye to their profits. Medieval +romance, in its most characteristic and most influential form, is +almost as factitious and professional as modern Gothic architecture. +The twelfth-century dealers in romantic commonplaces are as fully +conscious of the market value of their goods as any later poet who has +borrowed from them their giants and enchanters, their forests and +their magic castles; and these and similar properties are used in the +twelfth century with the same kind of literary sharpness, the same +attention to the demands of the "reading public," as is shown by the +various poets and novelists who have waited on the successes, and +tried to copy the methods, of Goethe, Scott, or Victor Hugo. Pure +Romance, such as is found in the old Northern poems, is very rare in +the French stories of the twelfth century; the magical touch and the +sense of mystery, and all the things that are associated with the name +romance, when that name is applied to the _Ancient Mariner_, or _La +Belle Dame sans Merci_, or the _Lady of Shalott_, are generally absent +from the most successful romances of the great medieval romantic age, +full though they may be of all the forms of chivalrous devotion and +all the most wonderful romantic machines. Most of them are as +different from the true irresistible magic of fancy as _Thalaba_ from +_Kubla Khan_. The name "romantic school" is rightly applicable to them +and their work, for almost the last thing that is produced in a +"romantic school" is the infallible and indescribable touch of +romance. A "romantic school" is a company for the profitable working +of Broceliande, an organised attempt to "open up" the Enchanted +Ground; such, at least, is the appearance of a great deal of the +romantic literature of the early part of the nineteenth century, and +of its forerunner in the twelfth. There is this difference between the +two ages, that the medieval romanticists are freer and more original +than the moderns who made a business out of tales of terror and +wonder, and tried to fatten their lean kine on the pastures of +"Gothic" or of Oriental learning. + +The romance-writers of the twelfth century, though they did much to +make romance into a mechanic art, though they reduced the game to a +system and left the different romantic combinations and conventions +within the reach of almost any 'prentice hand, were yet in their way +original explorers. Though few of them got out of their materials the +kind of effect that appeals to us now most strongly, and though we +think we can see what they missed in their opportunities, yet they +were not the followers of any great man of their own time, and they +chose their own way freely, not as bungling imitators of a greater +artist. It is a disappointment to find that romance is rarely at its +finest in the works that technically have the best right in the world +to be called by that name. Nevertheless, the work that is actually +found there is interesting in its own way, and historically of an +importance which does not need to be emphasised. + +The true romantic interest is very unequally distributed over the +works of the Middle Ages, and there is least of it in the authors who +are most representative of the "age of chivalry." There is a +disappointment prepared for any one who looks in the greater romantic +authors of the twelfth century for the music of the _Faery Queene_ or +_La Belle Dame sans Merci_. There is more of the pure romantic element +in the poems of Brynhild, in the story of Njal, in the _Song of +Roland_, than in the famous romances of Chrestien of Troyes or any of +his imitators, though they have all the wonders of the Isle of Britain +at their command, though they have the very story of Tristram and the +very mystery of the Grail to quicken them and call them out. Elegance, +fluency, sentiment, romantic adventures are common, but for words like +those of Hervor at the grave of her father, or of the parting between +Brynhild and Sigurd, or of Helgi and Sigrun, it would be vain to +search in the romances of Benoit de Sainte More or of Chrestien. Yet +these are the masters of the art of romance when it was fresh and +strong, a victorious fashion. + +If the search be continued further, the search for that kind of +imaginative beauty which these authors do not give, it will not be +unsuccessful. The greater authors of the twelfth century have more +affinity to the "heroic romance" of the school of the _Grand Cyrus_ +than to the dreams of Spenser or Coleridge. But, while this is the +case with the most distinguished members of the romantic school, it is +not so with all the rest. The magic that is wanting to the clear and +elegant narrative of Benoit and Chrestien will be found elsewhere; it +will be found in one form in the mystical prose of the _Queste del St. +Graal_--a very different thing from Chrestien's _Perceval_--it will be +found, again and again, in the prose of Sir Thomas Malory; it will be +found in many ballads and ballad burdens, in _William and Margaret_, +in _Binnorie_, in the _Wife of Usher's Well_, in the _Rime of the +Count Arnaldos_, in the _Königskinder_; it will be found in the most +beautiful story of the Middle Ages, _Aucassin and Nicolette_; one of +the few perfectly beautiful stories in the world, about which there is +no need, in England at any rate, to say anything in addition to the +well-known passages in which it has been praised. _Aucassin and +Nicolette_ cannot be made into a representative medieval romance: +there is nothing else like it; and the qualities that make it what it +is are the opposite of the rhetorical self-possession, the correct and +deliberate narrative of Chrestien and his school. It contains the +quintessence of romantic imagination, but it is quite unlike the most +fashionable and successful romances. + +There are several stages in the history of the great Romantic School, +as well as several distinct sources of interest. The value of the +best works of the school consists in their representation of the +passion of love. They turn the psychology of the courtly amatory poets +into narrative. Chaucer's address to the old poets,--"Ye lovers that +can make of sentiment,"--when he complains that they have left little +for him to glean in the field of poetry, does not touch the lyrical +poets only. The narrative poetry of the courteous school is equally +devoted to the philosophy of love. Narrative poets like Chrestien, +when they turn to lyric, can change their instrument without changing +the purport of their verse; lyric or narrative, it has the same +object, the same duty. So also, two hundred years later, Chaucer +himself or Froissart may use narrative or lyric forms indifferently, +and observe the same "courteous" ideal in both. + +In the twelfth-century narratives, besides the interest of the +love-story and all its science, there was the interest of adventure, +of strange things; and here there is a great diversity among the +authors, and a perceptible difference between earlier and later usage. +Courteous sentiment, running through a succession of wonderful +adventures, is generally enough to make a romance; but there are some +notable varieties, both in the sentiment and in the incidents. The +sentiment comes later in the history of literature than the +adventures; the conventional romantic form of plot may be said to have +been fixed before the romantic sentiment was brought to its furthest +refinement. The wonders of romantic story are more easily traced to +their origin, or at least to some of their earlier forms, than the +spirit of chivalrous idealism which came in due time to take +possession of the fabulous stories, and gave new meanings to the lives +of Tristram and Lancelot. + +Variety of incident, remoteness of scene, and all the incredible +things in the world, had been at the disposal of medieval authors long +before the French Romantic Schools began to define themselves. The +wonders of the East, especially, had very early come into literature; +and the Anglo-Saxon _Epistle of Alexander_ seems to anticipate the +popular taste for Eastern stories, just as the Anglo-Saxon version of +_Apollonius of Tyre_ anticipates the later importation of Greek +romance, and the appropriation of classical rhetoric, in the twelfth +and thirteenth centuries; as the grace and brightness of the old +English poems of St. Andrew or St. Helen seem to anticipate the +peculiar charm of some of the French poems of adventures. In French +literature before the vogue of romance can be said to have begun, and +before the epic form had lost its supremacy, the poem of the +_Pilgrimage of Charlemagne_, one of the oldest extant poems of the +heroic cycle, is already far gone in subjection to the charm of mere +unqualified wonder and exaggeration--rioting in the wonders of the +East, like the Varangians on their holiday, when they were allowed a +free day to loot in the Emperor's palace.[79] The poem of +Charlemagne's journey to Constantinople is unrefined enough, but the +later and more elegant romances deal often in the same kind of matter. +Mere furniture counts for a good deal in the best romances, and they +are full of descriptions of riches and splendours. The story of Troy +is full of details of various sorts of magnificence; the city of Troy +itself and "Ylion," its master-tower, were built by Priam out of all +kinds of marble, and covered with sculpture all over. Much further on +in Benoit's poem (l. 14,553) Hector is brought home wounded to a room +which is described in 300 lines, with particulars of its remarkable +decorations, especially its four magical images. The tomb of +Penthesilea (l. 25,690) is too much for the author:-- + + Sepolture ot et monument + Tant que se _Plenius_ fust vis + Ou _cil qui fist Apocalis_ + Nel vos sauroient il retraire: + Por ço si m'en dei gie bien taire: + N'en dirai plus, que n'oseroie; + Trop halte chose envaďroie. + +[Footnote 79: See the account of the custom in the _Saga of Harald +Hardrada_, c. 16. "Harald entrusted to Jarizleif all the gold that he +had sent from Micklegarth, and all sorts of precious things: so much +wealth all together, as no man of the North Lands had ever seen before +in one man's hands. Harald had thrice come in for the palace-sweeping +(_Polotasvarf_) while he was in Micklegarth. It is the law there that +when the Greek king dies, the Varangians shall have a sweep of the +palace; they go over all the king's palaces where his treasures are, +and every man shall have for his own what falls to his hand" +(_Fornmanna Sögur_, vi. p. 171).] + +Pliny and the author of the Apocalypse are here acknowledged as +masters and authorities in the art of description. In other places of +the same work there is a very liberal use of natural history such as +is common in many versions of the history of Alexander. There is, for +example, a long description of the precious clothes of Briseide +(Cressida) at her departure, especially of her mantle, which had been +given to Calchas by an Indian poet in Upper India. It was made by +nigromancy, of the skin of the beast _Dindialos_, which is hunted in +the shadowless land by the savage people whose name is _Cenocefali_; +and the fringes of the mantle were not of the sable, but of a "beast +of price" that dwells in the water of Paradise:-- + + Dedans le flum de Paradis + Sont et conversent, ço set l'on + Se c'est vrais que nos en lison. + +Calchas had a tent which had belonged to Pharaoh:-- + + Diomedes tant la conduit + Qu'il descendi al paveillon + Qui fu al riche Pharaon, + Cil qui noa en la mer roge. + +In such passages of ornamental description the names of strange people +and of foreign kings have the same kind of value as the names of +precious stones, and sometimes they are introduced on their own +account, apart from the precious work of Arabian or Indian artists. Of +this sort is the "dreadful sagittary," who is still retained in +Shakespeare's _Troilus and Cressida_ on the ultimate authority (when +it comes to be looked into) of Benoit de Sainte More.[80] + +[Footnote 80: + + Il ot o lui un saietaire + Qui molt fu fels et deputaire: + Des le nombril tot contreval + Ot cors en forme de cheval: + Il n'est riens nule s'il volsist + Que d'isnelece n'ateinsist: + Cors, chiere, braz, a noz semblanz + Avoit, mes n'ert pas avenanz. + + l. 12,207.] + +A quotation by M. Gaston Paris (_Hist. litt. de la France_, xxx. p. +210), from the unpublished romance of _Ider_ (Edeyrn, son of Nudd), +shows how this fashion of rich description and allusion had been +overdone, and how it was necessary, in time, to make a protest against +it. Kings' pavilions were a favourite subject for rhetoric, and the +poet of _Ider_ explains that he does not approve of this fashion, +though he has pavilions of his own, and can describe them if he likes, +as well as any one:-- + + Tels diz n'a fors savor de songe, + Tant en acreissent les paroles: + Mes jo n'ai cure d'iperboles: + _Yperbole_ est chose non voire, + Qui ne fu et qui n'est a croire, + C'en est la difinicion: + Mes tant di de cest paveillon + Qu'il n'en a nul soz ciel qu'il vaille. + + Many poets give themselves pains to describe gardens and + pavilions and other things, and think they are beautifying + their work, but this is all dreaming and waste of words; I + will have no such hyperbole. (_Hyperbole_ means by + definition that which is untrue and incredible.) I will only + say of this pavilion that there was not its match under + heaven. + +The author, by his definition of _hyperbole_[81] in this place, +secures an ornamental word with which he consoles himself for his +abstinence in other respects. This piece of science is itself +characteristic of the rhetorical enterprise of the Romantic School; of +the way in which Pliny, Isidore, and other encyclopaedic authors were +turned into decorations. The taste for such things is common in the +early and the later Middle Ages; all that the romances did was to give +a certain amount of finish and neatness to the sort of work that was +left comparatively rude by the earlier pedants. There many be +discovered in some writers a preference for classical subjects in +their ornamental digressions, or for the graceful forms of allegory, +such as in the next century were collected for the Garden of the Rose, +and still later for the _House of Fame_. Thus Chrestien seems to +assert his superiority of taste and judgment when, instead of +Oriental work, he gives Enid an ivory saddle carved with the story of +Aeneas and Dido (_Erec_, l. 5337); or when, in the same book, Erec's +coronation mantle, though it is fairy work, bears no embroidered +designs of Broceliande or Avalon, but four allegorical figures of the +quadrivial sciences, with a reference by Chrestien to Macrobius as his +authority in describing them. One function of this Romantic School, +though not the most important, is to make an immediate literary profit +out of all accessible books of learning. It was a quick-witted school, +and knew how to turn quotations and allusions. Much of its art, like +the art of _Euphues_, is bestowed in making pedantry look attractive. + +[Footnote 81: Chaucer, who often yields to the temptations of +"Hyperbole" in this sense of the word, lays down the law against +impertinent decorations, in the rhetorical instruction of Pandarus to +Troilus, about Troilus's letter to Cressida (B. ii. l. 1037):-- + + Ne jompre eek no discordaunt thing yfere + As thus, to usen termes of phisyk; + In loves termes hold of thy matere + The forme alwey, and do that it be lyk; + For if a peyntour wolde peynte a pyk + With asses feet, and hede it as an ape, + It cordeth naught; so nere it but a jape.] + +The narrative material imported and worked up in the Romantic School +is, of course, enormously more important than the mere decorations +taken out of Solinus or Macrobius. It is not, however, with the +principal masters the most important part of their study. Chrestien, +for example, often treats his adventures with great levity in +comparison with the serious psychological passages; the wonder often +is that he should have used so much of the common stuff of adventures +in poems where he had a strong commanding interest in the sentiments +of the personages. There are many irrelevant and unnecessary +adventures in his _Erec_, _Lancelot_, and _Yvain_, not to speak of his +unfinished _Perceval_; while in _Cliges_ he shows that he did not rely +on the commonplaces of adventure, on the regular machinery of romance, +and that he might, when he chose, commit himself to a novel almost +wholly made up of psychology and sentiment. Whatever the explanation +be in this case, it is plain enough both that the adventures are of +secondary value as compared with the psychology, in the best +romances, and that their value, though inferior, is still +considerable, even in some of the best work of the "courtly makers." + +The greatest novelty in the twelfth-century narrative materials was +due to the Welsh; not that the "matter of Britain" was quite +overwhelming in extent, or out of proportion to the other stores of +legend and fable. "The matter of Rome the Great" (not to speak again +of the old epic "matter of France" and its various later romantic +developments) included all known antiquity, and it was recruited +continually by new importations from the East. The "matter of Rome," +however, the tales of Thebes and Troy and the wars of Alexander, had +been known more or less for centuries, and they did not produce the +same effect as the discovery of the Celtic stories. Rather, it may be +held that the Welsh stories gave a new value to the classical +authorities, and suggested new imaginative readings. As Chaucer's +_Troilus_ in our own time has inspired a new rendering of the _Life +and Death of Jason_, so (it would seem) the same story of Jason got a +new meaning in the twelfth century when it was read by Benoit de +Sainte More in the light of Celtic romance. Then it was discovered +that Jason and Medea were no more, and no less, than the adventurer +and the wizard's daughter, who might play their parts in a story of +Wales or Brittany. The quest of the Golden Fleece and the labours of +Jason are all reduced from the rhetoric of Ovid, from their classical +dignity, to something like what their original shape may have been +when the story that now is told in Argyll and Connaught of the _King's +Son of Ireland_ was told or chanted, ages before Homer, of a king's +son of the Greeks and an enchantress beyond sea. Something indeed, and +that of the highest consequence, as will be seen, was kept by Benoit +from his reading of the _Metamorphoses_; the passion of Medea, +namely. But the story itself is hardly distinguishable in kind from +_Libeaux Desconus_. It is not easy to say how far this treatment of +Jason may be due to the Welsh example of similar stories, and how far +to the general medieval disrespect for everything in the classics +except their matter. The Celtic precedents can scarcely have been +without influence on this very remarkable detection of the "Celtic +element" in the voyage of the Argonauts, while at the same time Ovid +ought not to be refused his share in the credit of medieval romantic +adventure. Virgil, Ovid, and Statius are not to be underrated as +sources of chivalrous adventure, even in comparison with the +unquestioned riches of Wales or Ireland. + +There is more than one distinct stage in the progress of the Celtic +influence in France. The culmination of the whole thing is attained +when Chrestien makes the British story of the capture and rescue of +Guinevere into the vehicle of his most finished and most courtly +doctrine of love, as shown in the examples of Lancelot and the Queen. +Before that there are several earlier kinds of Celtic romance in +French, and after that comes what for modern readers is more +attractive than the typical work of Chrestien and his school,--the +eloquence of the old French prose, with its languor and its +melancholy, both in the prose _Lancelot_ and in the _Queste del St. +Graal_ and _Mort Artus_. In Chrestien everything is clear and +positive; in these prose romances, and even more in Malory's English +rendering of his "French book," is to be heard the indescribable +plaintive melody, the sigh of the wind over the enchanted ground, the +spell of pure Romance. Neither in Chrestien of Troyes, nor yet in the +earlier authors who dealt more simply than he with their Celtic +materials, is there anything to compare with this later prose. + +In some of the earlier French romantic work, in some of the lays of +Marie de France, and in the fragments of the poems about Tristram, +there is a kind of simplicity, partly due to want of skill, but in its +effect often impressive enough. The plots made use of by the medieval +artists are some of them among the noblest in the world, but none of +the poets were strong enough to bring out their value, either in +translating _Dido_ and _Medea_, or in trying to educate Tristram and +other British heroes according to the manners of the Court of +Champagne. There are, however, differences among the misinterpretations +and the failures. No French romance appears to have felt the full +power of the story of Tristram and Iseult; no French poet had his mind +and imagination taken up by the character of Iseult as more than one +Northern poet was possessed by the tragedy of Brynhild. But there were +some who, without developing the story as Chaucer did with the story +of Troilus, at least allowed it to tell itself clearly. The Celtic +magic, as that is described in Mr. Arnold's _Lectures_, has scarcely +any place in French romance, either of the earlier period or of the +fully-developed and successful chivalrous order, until the time of the +prose books. The French poets, both the simpler sort and the more +elegant, appear to have had a gift for ignoring that power of +vagueness and mystery which is appreciated by some of the prose +authors of the thirteenth century. They seem for the most part to have +been pleased with the incidents of the Celtic stories, without +appreciating any charm of style that they may have possessed. They +treated them, in fact, as they treated Virgil and Ovid; and there is +about as much of the "Celtic spirit" in the French versions of +_Tristram_, as there is of the genius of Virgil in the _Roman +d'Eneas_. In each case there is something recognisable of the original +source, but it has been translated by minds imperfectly responsive. In +dealing with Celtic, as with Greek, Latin, or Oriental stories, the +French romancers were at first generally content if they could get the +matter in the right order and present it in simple language, like +tunes played with one finger. One great advantage of this procedure is +that the stories are intelligible; the sequence of events is clear, +and where the original conception has any strength or beauty it is not +distorted, though the colours may be faint. This earlier and more +temperate method was abandoned in the later stages of the Romantic +School, when it often happened that a simple story was taken from the +"matter of Britain" and overlaid with the chivalrous conventional +ornament, losing its simplicity without being developed in respect of +its characters or its sentiment. As an example of the one kind may be +chosen the _Lay of Guingamor_, one of the lays of Marie de France;[82] +as an example of the other, the Dutch romance of Gawain (_Walewein_), +which is taken from the French and exhibits the results of a common +process of adulteration. Or, again, the story of _Guinglain_, as told +by Renaud de Beaujeu with an irrelevant "courtly" digression, may be +compared with the simpler and more natural versions in English +(_Libeaux Desconus_) and Italian (_Carduino_), as has been done by M. +Gaston Paris; or the _Conte du Graal_ of Chrestien with the English +_Sir Perceval of Galles_. + +[Footnote 82: Not included in the editions of her works (Roquefort, +Warnke); edited by M. Gaston Paris in the eighth volume of _Romania_ +along with the lays of _Doon_, _Tidorel_, and _Tiolet_.] + +_Guingamor_ is one of the best of the simpler kind of romances. The +theme is that of an old story, a story which in one form and another +is extant in native Celtic versions with centuries between them. In +essentials it is the story of Ossian in the land of youth; in its +chief motive, the fairy-bride, it is akin to the old Irish story of +Connla. It is different from both in its definite historical manner of +treating the subject. The story is allowed to count for the full value +of all its incidents, with scarcely a touch to heighten the importance +of any of them. It is the argument of a story, and little more. Even +an argument, however, may present some of the vital qualities of a +fairy story, as well as of a tragic plot, and the conclusion, +especially, of _Guingamor_ is very fine in its own way, through its +perfect clearness. + +There was a king in Britain, and Guingamor was his nephew. The queen +fell in love with him, and was driven to take revenge for his +rejection of her; but being less cruel than other queens of similar +fortune, she planned nothing worse than to send him into the _lande +aventureuse_, a mysterious forest on the other side of the river, to +hunt the white boar. This white boar of the adventurous ground had +already taken off ten knights, who had gone out to hunt it and had +never returned. Guingamor followed the boar with the king's hound. In +his wanderings he came on a great palace, with a wall of green marble +and a silver shining tower, and open gates, and no one within, to +which he was brought back later by a maiden whom he met in the forest. +The story of their meeting was evidently, in the original, a story +like that of Weland and the swan-maidens, and those of other swan or +seal maidens, who are caught by their lovers as Weland caught his +bride. But the simplicity of the French story here is in excess of +what is required even by the illiterate popular versions of similar +incidents. + +Guingamor, after two days in the rich palace (where he met the ten +knights of the king's court, who had disappeared before), on the third +day wished to go back to bring the head of the white boar to the king. +His bride told him that he had been there for three hundred years, and +that his uncle was dead, with all his retinue, and his cities fallen +and destroyed. + +But she allowed him to go, and gave him the boar's head and the king's +hound; and told him after he had crossed the river into his own +country to eat and drink nothing. + +He was ferried across the river, and there he met a charcoal-burner +and asked for news of the king. The king had been dead for three +hundred years, he was told; and the king's nephew had gone hunting in +the forest and had never been seen again. Guingamor told him his +story, and showed him the boar's head, and turned to go back. + +Now it was after nones and turning late. He saw a wild apple-tree and +took three apples from it; but as he tasted them he grew old and +feeble and fell from his horse. + +The charcoal-burner had followed him and was going to help him, when +he saw two damsels richly dressed, who came to Guingamor and +reproached him for his forgetfulness. They put him gently on a horse +and brought him to the river, and ferried him over, along with his +hound. The charcoal-burner went back to his own house at nightfall. +The boar's head he took to the king of Britain that then was, and told +the story of Guingamor, and the king bade turn it into a lay. + +The simplicity of all this is no small excellence in a story. If +there is anything in this story that can affect the imagination, it is +there unimpaired by anything foreign or cumbrous. It is unsupported +and undeveloped by any strong poetic art, but it is sound and clear. + +In the Dutch romance of _Walewein_, and doubtless in its French +original (to show what is gained by the moderation and restriction of +the earlier school), another story of fairy adventures has been +dressed up to look like chivalry. The story of Walewein is one that +appears in collections of popular tales; it is that of Mac Iain +Direach in Campbell's _West Highland Tales_ (No. xlvi.), as well as of +Grimm's _Golden Bird_. The romance observes the general plot of the +popular story; indeed, it is singular among the romances in its close +adherence to the order of events as given in the traditional oral +forms. Though it contains 11,200 lines, it begins at the beginning and +goes on to the end without losing what may be considered the original +design. But while the general economy is thus retained, there are +large digressions, and there is an enormous change in the character of +the hero. While Guingamor in the French poem has little, if anything, +to distinguish him from the adventurer of popular fairy stories, the +hero in this Dutch romance is Gawain,--Gawain the Courteous, in +splendid armour, playing the part of Mac Iain Direach. The discrepancy +is very great, and there can be little doubt that the story as told in +Gaelic fifty years ago by Angus Campbell, quarryman, is, in respect of +the hero's condition and manners, more original than the medieval +romance. Both versions are simple enough in their plot, and their plot +is one and the same: the story of a quest for something wonderful, +leading to another quest and then another, till the several problems +are solved and the adventurer returns successful. In each story (as +in Grimm's version also) the Fox appears as a helper. + +Mac Iain Direach is sent to look for the Blue Falcon; the giant who +owns the Falcon sends him to the big Women of the Isle of Jura to ask +for their white glaive of light. The Women of Jura ask for the bay +filly of the king of Erin; the king of Erin sends him to woo for him +the king's daughter of France. Mac Iain Direach wins all for himself, +with the help of the Fox. + +Gawain has to carry out similar tasks: to find and bring back to King +Arthur a magical flying Chessboard that appeared one day through the +window and went out again; to bring to King Wonder, the owner of the +Chessboard, "the sword of the strange rings"; to win for the owner of +the sword the Princess of the Garden of India. + +Some things in the story, apart from the hero, are different from the +popular versions. In _Walewein_ there appears quite plainly what is +lost in the Gaelic and the German stories, the character of the +strange land in which the quests are carried out. Gawain has to pass +through or into a hill to reach the land of King Wonder; it does not +belong to the common earth. The three castles to which he comes have +all of them water about them; the second of them, Ravensten, is an +island in the sea; the third is beyond the water of Purgatory, and is +reached by two perilous bridges, the bridge of the sword and the +bridge under water, like those in Chrestien's _Lancelot_. There is a +distinction here, plain enough, between the human world, to which +Arthur and his Court belong, and the other world within the hill, and +the castles beyond the waters. But if this may be supposed to belong +to an older form of the story not evident in the popular versions, a +story of adventures in the land of the Dead, on the other hand the +romance has no conception of the meaning of these passages, and gets +no poetical result from the chances here offered to it. It has nothing +like the vision of Thomas of Erceldoune; the waters about the magic +island are tame and shallow; the castle beyond the Bridge of Dread is +loaded with the common, cheap, pedantic "hyperboles," like those of +the _Pčlerinage_ or of Benoit's _Troy_. Gawain is too heavily +armoured, also, and even his horse Gringalet has a reputation of his +own; all inconsistent with the lightness of the fairy tale. Gawain in +the land of all these dreams is burdened still by the heavy chivalrous +conventions. The world for him, even after he has gone through the +mountain, is still very much the old world with the old stale business +going on; especially tournaments and all their weariness. One natural +result of all this is that the Fox's part is very much reduced. In the +Gaelic story, Mac Iain Direach and his friend Gille Mairtean (the Lad +of March, the Fox) are a pair of equals; they have no character, no +position in the world, no station and its duties. They are quite +careless, and they move freely. Gawain is slow, and he has to put in a +certain amount of the common romantic business. The authors of that +romantic school, if ever they talked shop, may have asked one another, +"Where do you put your Felon Red Knight? Where do you put your doing +away of the Ill Custom? or your tournaments?" and the author of +_Walewein_ would have had an answer ready. Everything is there all +right: that is to say, all the things that every one else has, all the +mechanical business of romance. The Fox is postponed to the third +adventure, and there, though he has not quite grown out of his +original likeness to the Gille Mairtean, he is evidently constrained. +Sir Gawain of the romance, this courteous but rather dull and +middle-aged gentleman in armour, is not his old light-hearted +companion. + +Still, though this story of _Gawain_ is weighed down by the +commonplaces of the Romantic School, it shows through all its +encumbrances what sort of story it was that impressed the French +imagination at the beginning of the School. It may be permitted to +believe that the story of _Walewein_ existed once in a simpler and +clearer form, like that of _Guingamor_. + +The curious sophistication of _Guinglain_ by Renaud de Beaujeu has +been fully described and criticised by M. Gaston Paris in one of his +essays (_Hist. litt. de la France_, xxx. p. 171). His comparison with +the English and Italian versions of the story brings out the +indifference of the French poets to their plot, and their readiness to +sacrifice the unities of action for the sake of irrelevant sentiment. +The story is as simple as that of Walewein; an expedition, this time, +to rescue a lady from enchantment. She is bewitched in the form of a +serpent, and freed by a kiss (_le fier basier_). There are various +adventures on the journey; it has some resemblance to that of Gareth +in the _Morte d'Arthur_, and of the Red Cross Knight in Spenser, which +is founded upon Malory's _Gareth_.[83] One of the adventures is in the +house of a beautiful sorceress, who treats Guinglain with small +consideration. Renaud de Beaujeu, in order to get literary credit from +his handling of this romantic episode, brings Guinglain back to this +enchantress after the real close of the story, in a kind of +sentimental show-piece or appendix, by which the story is quite +overweighted and thrown off its balance for the sake of a rhetorical +demonstration. This of course belongs to the later period of romance, +when the simpler methods had been discredited; but the simpler form, +much nearer the fashion of popular stories, is still kept more or less +by the English and the Italian rhymes of "Sir Lybeaux." + +[Footnote 83: Britomart in the House of Busirane has some resemblance +to the conclusion of _Libius Disconius_.] + +The most remarkable examples of the earlier French romantic methods +are presented by the fragments remaining of the old Anglo-Norman poems +on Tristram and Yseult, by Béroul and Thomas, especially the +latter;[84] most remarkable, because in this case there is the +greatest contradiction between the tragic capabilities of the story +and the very simple methods of the Norman poets. It is a story that +might test the tragic strength and eloquence of any poet in any age of +the world; the poetical genius of Thomas is shown in his abstinence +from effort. Hardly anything could be simpler. He does very little to +fill out or to elaborate the story; he does nothing to vitiate his +style; there is little ornament or emphasis. The story itself is +there, as if the poet thought it an impertinence to add any harmonies +of his own. If it were only extant as a whole, it would be one of the +most notable of poems. Where else is there anything like it, for +sincerity and for thinness? + +[Footnote 84: Fr. Michel: _Tristan._ London, 1835. _Le Roman de +Tristan_ (Thomas) ed. Bédier; (Béroul) ed. Muret, _Anc. Textes_, +1902-1905. Cf. Gaston Paris, _Poëmes et Légendes_.] + +This poet of _Tristram_ does not represent the prevalent fashion of +his time. The eloquence and the passion of the amorous romances are +commonly more effusive, and seldom as true. The lost _Tristram_ of +Chrestien would probably have made a contrast with the Anglo-Norman +poem in this respect. Chrestien of Troyes is at the head of the French +Romantic School, and his interest is in the science of love; not in +ancient rude and passionate stories, such as the story of +Tristram--for it is rude and ancient, even in the French of +Thomas--not in the "Celtic magic," except for decorative and +incidental purposes, but in psychology and analysis of the emotions, +and in the appropriate forms of language for such things. + +It is impossible (as M. Gaston Paris has shown) to separate the spirit +of French romance from the spirit of the Provençal lyric poetry. The +romances represent in a narrative form the ideas and the spirit which +took shape as lyric poetry in the South; the romances are directly +dependent upon the poetry of the South for their principal motives. +The courtesy of the Provençal poetry, with its idealism and its +pedantry, its psychological formalism, its rhetoric of antithesis and +conceits, is to be found again in the narrative poetry of France in +the twelfth century, just as, in the thirteenth, all the floods of +lyrical idealism are collected in the didactic reservoir of the +_Romaunt of the Rose_. The dominant interest in the French romances is +the same as in the Provençal lyric poetry and in the _Romaunt of the +Rose_; namely, the idealist or courteous science of love. The origins +of this mode of thought are difficult to trace fully. The inquiry +belongs more immediately to the history of Provence than of France, +for the romancers are the pupils of the Provençal school; not +independent practitioners of the same craft, but directly indebted to +Provence for some of their main ideas and a good deal of their +rhetoric. In Provence itself the origins are partly to be found in the +natural (_i.e._ inexplicable) development of popular love-poetry, and +in the corresponding progress of society and its sentiments; while +among the definite influences that can be proved and explained, one of +the strongest is that of Latin poetry, particularly of the _Art of +Love_. About this there can be no doubt, however great may seem to be +the interval between the ideas of Ovid and those of the Provençal +lyrists, not to speak of their greater scholars in Italy, Dante and +Petrarch. The pedantry of Ovid was taken seriously, for one thing, in +an age when everything systematic was valuable just because it was a +system; when every doctrine was profitable. For another thing, they +found in Ovid the form, at least, of devotion, and again the _Art of +Love_ was not their only book. There were other writings of Ovid and +works of other poets from whom the Middle Ages learned their lesson of +chivalrous service; not for the most part, it must be confessed, from +the example of "Paynim Knights," but far more from the classical +"Legend of Good Women," from the passion of Dido and the other +heroines. It is true that there were some names of ancient heroes that +were held in honour; the name of Paris is almost inseparable from the +name of Tristram, wherever a medieval poet has occasion to praise the +true lovers of old time, and Dante followed the common form when he +brought the names together in his fifth canto. + +But what made by far the strongest impression on the Middle Ages was +not the example of Paris or of Leander, nor yet the passion of +Catullus and Propertius, who were then unknown, but the poetry of the +loyalty of the heroines, the fourth book of the _Aeneid_, the +_Heroides_ of Ovid, and certain parts of the _Metamorphoses_. If +anything literary can be said to have taken effect upon the temper of +the Middle Ages, so as to produce the manners and sentiments of +chivalry, this is the literature to which the largest share of +influence must be ascribed. The ladies of Romance all owe allegiance, +and some of them are ready to pay it, to the queens of the Latin +poets.[85] Virgil's Dido and Ovid's Medea taught the eloquence of +love to the French poets, and the first chivalrous lovers are those +who have learned to think poorly of the recreant knights of antiquity. + +[Footnote 85: A fine passage is quoted from the romance of _Ider_ in +the essay cited above, where Guenloďe the queen finds Ider near death +and thinks of killing herself, like Phyllis and other ladies of the +old time, who will welcome her. It is the "Saints' Legend of Cupid," +many generations before Chaucer, in the form of an invocation to Love, +the tyrant:-- + + Bel semblant ço quit me feront + Les cheitives qui a toi sont + Qui s'ocistrent par druerie + D'amor; mout voil lor compainie: + D'amor me recomfortera + La lasse Deďanira, + Qui s'encroast, et Canacé, + Eco, Scilla, Fillis, Pronné, + Ero, Biblis, Dido, Mirra, + Tisbé, la bele Hypermnestra, + Et des autres mil et cinc cenz. + Amor! por quoi ne te repenz + De ces simples lasses destruire? + Trop cruelment te voi deduire: + Pechié feiz que n'en as pitié; + Nuls deus fors toi ne fait pechié! + De ço est Tisbé al dessus, + Que por lié s'ocist Piramus; + Amors, de ço te puet loer + Car a ta cort siet o son per; + Ero i est o Leander: + Si jo i fusse avec Ider, + Aise fusse, ço m'est avis, + Com alme qu'est en paraďs.] + +The French romantic authors were scholars in the poetry of the +Provençal School, but they also knew a good deal independently of +their Provençal masters, and did not need to be told everything. They +read the ancient authors for themselves, and drew their own +conclusions from them. They were influenced by the special Provençal +rendering of the common ideas of chivalry and courtesy; they were also +affected immediately by the authors who influenced the Provençal +School. + +Few things are more instructive in this part of literature than the +story of Medea in the _Roman de Troie_ of Benoit de Sainte More. It +might even claim to be the representative French romance, for it +contains in an admirable form the two chief elements common to all the +dominant school--adventure (here reduced from Ovid to the scale of a +common fairy story, as has been seen already) and sentimental +eloquence, which in this particular story is very near its original +fountain-head. + +It is to be noted that Benoit is not in the least troubled by the +Latin rhetoric when he has to get at the story. Nothing Latin, except +the names, and nothing rhetorical remains to show that the story came +from Ovid, and not from Blethericus or some other of his +fellow-romancers in Wales,[86] so long, that is, as the story is +merely concerned with the Golden Fleece, the Dragon, the Bulls, and +all the tasks imposed on Jason. But one essential thing is retained by +Benoit out of the Latin which is his authority, and that is the way in +which the love of Medea for Jason is dwelt upon and described. + +[Footnote 86: Blethericus, or Bréri, is the Welsh authority cited by +Thomas in his _Tristan_. Cf. Gaston Paris, _Romania_, viii. p. 427.] + +This is for medieval poetry one of the chief sources of the psychology +in which it took delight,--an original and authoritative +representation of the beginning and growth of the passion of love, not +yet spoilt by the pedantry which later displayed itself unrestrained +in the following generations of amatory poets, and which took its +finest form in the poem of Guillaume de Lorris; but yet at the same +time giving a starting-point and some encouragement to the later +pedants, by its study of the different degrees of the passion, and by +the success with which they are explained and made interesting. This +is one of the masterpieces and one of the standards of composition in +early French romance; and it gives one of the most singular proofs of +the dependence of modern on ancient literature, in certain respects. +It would not be easy to prove any real connexion between Homer and the +Sagas, in order to explain the resemblances of temper, and even of +incident, between them; but in the case of the medieval romances there +is this direct and real dependence. The Medea of Apollonius Rhodius is +at the beginning of medieval poetry, in one line of descent (through +Virgil's Dido as well as Ovid's Medea); and it would be hard to +overestimate the accumulated debt of all the modern poets whose +rhetoric of passion, whether they knew it or not, is derived somehow +from the earlier medieval masters of Dante or Chaucer, Boccaccio or +Spenser. + +The "medieval" character of the work of Chrestien and his +contemporaries is plain enough. But "medieval" and other terms of the +same sort are too apt to impose themselves on the mind as complete +descriptive formulas, and in this case the term "medieval" ought not +to obscure the fact that it is modern literature, in one of its chief +branches, which has its beginning in the twelfth century. No later +change in the forms of fiction is more important than the +twelfth-century revolution, from which all the later forms and +constitutions of romance and novel are in some degree or other +derived. It was this revolution, of which Chrestien was one of the +first to take full advantage, that finally put an end to the old local +and provincial restrictions upon narrative. The older schools of epic +are bound to their own nation or tribe, and to the family traditions. +These restrictions are no hindrance to the poetry of Homer, nor to the +plots and conversations of the Sagas. Within these local restrictions +the highest form of narrative art is possible. Nevertheless the period +of these restrictions must come to an end; the heroic age cannot last +for ever. The merit of the twelfth-century authors, Benoit, Chrestien, +and their followers, is that they faced the new problems and solved +them. In their productions it may be seen how the Western world was +moving away from the separate national traditions, and beginning the +course of modern civilisation with a large stock of ideas, subjects, +and forms of expression common to all the nations. The new forms of +story might be defective in many ways, thin or formal or extravagant +in comparison with some of the older modes; but there was no help for +it, there was no progress to be made in any other way. + +The first condition of modern progress in novel-writing, as in other +more serious branches of learning, was that the author should be free +to look about him, to reflect and choose, to pick up his ideas and his +matter anyhow. He was turned out of the old limited region of epic +tradition. The nations had several centuries to themselves, in the +Dark Ages, in which they were at liberty to compose Homeric poems ("if +they had a mind"), but by the twelfth century that time was over. The +romancers of the twelfth century were in the same position as modern +authors in regard to their choice of subjects. Their subjects were not +prescribed to them by epic tradition. They were more or less +reflective and self-conscious literary men, citizens of the universal +world, ready to make the most of their education. They are the +sophists of medieval literature; emancipated, enlightened and +intelligent persons, with an apparatus of rhetoric, a set of abstract +ideas, a repertory of abstract sentiments, which they could apply to +any available subject. In this sophistical period, when the serious +interest of national epic was lost, and when stories, collected from +all the ends of the earth, were made the receptacles of a common, +abstract, sentimental pathos, it was of some importance that the +rhetoric should be well managed, and that the sentiment should be +refined. The great achievement of the French poets, on account of +which they are to be remembered as founders and benefactors, is that +they went to good masters for instruction. Solid dramatic +interpretation of character was beyond them, and they were not able to +make much of the openings for dramatic contrast in the stories on +which they worked. But they were caught and held by the language of +passion, the language of Dido and Medea; language not dramatic so much +as lyrical or musical, the expression of universal passion, such as +might be repeated without much change in a thousand stories. In this +they were happily guided. The greater drama, the stronger characters, +appeared in due time; but the dramas and the novels of Europe would +not have been what they are, without the medieval elaboration of the +simple motives, and the practice of the early romantic schools in +executing variations on Love and Jealousy. It may be remarked that +there were sources more remote and even more august, above and beyond +the Latin poets from whom the medieval authors copied their phrasing; +in so far as the Latin poets were affected by Athenian tragedy, +directly or indirectly, in their great declamatory passages, which in +turn affected the Middle Ages. + +The history of this school has no end, for it merges in the history of +the romantic schools that are still flourishing, and will be continued +by their successors. One of the principal lines of progress may be +indicated, to conclude this discourse on Epic Poetry. + +The twelfth-century romances are in most things the antithesis to +Homer, in narrative. They are fanciful, conceited, thin in their +drama, affected in their sentiments. They are like the "heroic +romances" of the seventeenth century, their descendants, as compared +with the strong imagination of Cervantes or Shakespeare, who are the +representatives, if not of the Homeric line, at any rate of the +Homeric principles, in their intolerance of the formally pathetic or +heroic, and who have all the great modern novelists on their side. + +But the early romantic schools, though they are generally formal and +sentimental, and not dramatic, have here and there the possibilities +of a stronger drama and a truer imagination, and seem at times almost +to have worked themselves free from their pedantry. + +There is sentiment and sentiment: and while the pathos of medieval +romance, like some of the effusion of medieval lyric, is often merely +formal repetition of phrases, it is sometimes more natural, and +sometimes the mechanical fancy seems to quicken into true poetical +vision, or at least to make room for a sane appreciation of real life +and its incidents. Chrestien of Troyes shows his genius most +unmistakably in his occasional surprising intervals of true +description and natural feeling, in the middle of his rhetoric; while +even his sustained rhetorical dissertations, like those of the _Roman +de la Rose_ in the next century, are not absolutely untrue, or +uncontrolled by observation of actual manners. Often the rhetorical +apparatus interferes in the most annoying way with the clear vision. +In the _Chevalier au Lion_, for example, there is a pretty sketch of a +family party--a girl reading a romance to her father in a garden, and +her mother coming up and listening to the story--from which there is a +sudden and annoying change to the common impertinences of the amatory +professional novelist. This is the passage, with the two kinds of +literature in abrupt opposition:-- + + Messire Yvain goes into the garden, and his people follow; + and he sees a goodly gentleman reclining on a cloth of silk + and leaning on his elbow; and a maiden was sitting before + him reading out of a romance, I know not whose the story. + And to listen to the romance a lady had drawn near; that was + her mother, and he was her father, and well might they be + glad to look on her and listen to her, for they had no other + child. She was not yet sixteen years old, and she was so + fair and gentle that the God of Love if he had seen her + would have given himself to be her slave, and never would + have bestowed the love of her on any other than himself. For + her sake, to serve her, he would have made himself man, + would have put off his deity, and would have stricken + himself with the dart whose wound is never healed, except a + disloyal physician tend it. It is not right that any should + recover from that wound, unless there be disloyalty in it; + and whoever is otherwise healed, he never loved with + loyalty. _Of this wound I could talk to you without end_, if + it pleased you to listen; but I know that some would say + that all my talk was idleness, for the world is fallen away + from true love, and men know not any more how to love as + they ought, for the very talk of love is a weariness to + them! (ll. 5360-5396). + +This short passage is representative of Chrestien's work, and indeed +of the most successful and influential work of the twelfth-century +schools. It is not, like some affected kinds of romance, entirely cut +off from reality. But the glimpses of the real world are occasional +and short; there is a flash of pure daylight, a breath of fresh air, +and then the heavy-laden, enchanted mists of rhetoric and obligatory +sentiment come rolling down and shut out the view. + +It is possible to trace out in some detail a line of progress in +medieval romance, in which there is a victory in the end for the more +ingenuous kind of sentiment; in which the rhetorical romantic forms +are altered and strengthened to bear the weight of true imagination. + +This line of progress is nothing less than the earlier life of all the +great modern forms of novel; a part of European history which deserves +some study from those who have leisure for it. + +The case may be looked at in this way. The romantic schools, following +on the earlier heroic literature, generally substituted a more +shallow, formal, limited set of characters for the larger and freer +portraits of the heroic age, making up for this defect in the +personages by extravagance in other respects--in the incidents, the +phrasing, the sentimental pathos, the rhetorical conceits. The great +advantage of the new school over the old was that it was adapted to +modern cosmopolitan civilisation; it left the artist free to choose +his subject anywhere, and to deal with it according to the laws of +good society, without local or national restrictions. But the earlier +work of this modern enlightenment in the Middle Ages was generally +very formal, very meagre in imagination. The progress of literature +was to fill out the romantic forms, and to gain for the new +cosmopolitan schemes of fiction the same sort of substantial contents, +the same command of human nature and its variety, as belong (with +local or national restrictions) to some at any rate of the earlier +epic authors. This being so, one of the interests of the study of +medieval romance must be the discovery of those places in which it +departs from its own dominant conventions, and seems to aim at +something different from its own nature: at the recovery of the fuller +life of epic for the benefit of romance. Epic fulness of life within +the limits of romantic form--that might be said to be the ideal which +is _not_ attained in the Middle Ages, but towards which many medieval +writers seem to be making their way. + +Chrestien's story of _Geraint and Enid_ (Geraint has to take the name +of _Erec_ in the French) is one of his earlier works, but cannot be +called immature in comparison with what he wrote afterwards. In +Chrestien's _Enid_ there is not a little superfluity of the common +sort of adventure. The story of Enid in the _Idylls of the King_ +(founded upon the Welsh _Geraint_, as given in Lady Charlotte Guest's +_Mabinogion_) has been brought within compass, and a number of quite +unnecessary adventures have been cut out. Yet the story here is the +same as Chrestien's, and the drama of the story is not the pure +invention of the English poet. Chrestien has all the principal +motives, and the working out of the problem is the same. In one place, +indeed, where the Welsh romance, the immediate source of Tennyson's +_Enid_, has shortened the scene of reconciliation between the lovers, +the Idyll has restored something like the proportions of the original +French. Chrestien makes Erec speak to Enid and renounce all his +ill-will, after the scene in which "the brute Earl" is killed; the +Welsh story, with no less effect, allows the reconciliation to be +taken for granted when Geraint, at this point in the history, with no +speech of his reported, lifts Enid on his own horse. The Idyll goes +back (apparently without any direct knowledge of Chrestien's version) +to the method of Chrestien. + +The story of Enid in Chrestien is very unlike the other stories of +distressed and submissive wives; it has none of the ineradicable +falsity of the story of Griselda. How much is due to Chrestien for +this can hardly be reckoned, in our ignorance of the materials he +used. But taking into account the other passages, like that of the +girl reading in the garden, where Chrestien shows a distinct original +appreciation of certain aspects of life, it cannot be far wrong to +consider Chrestien's picture of Enid as mainly his own; and, in any +case, this picture is one of the finest in medieval romance. There is +no comparison between Chrestien of Troyes and Homer, but it is not +impious to speak of Enid along with Nausicaa, and there are few other +ladies of romance who may claim as much as this. The adventure of the +Sparrowhawk, one of the finest pieces of pure romance in the poetry of +this century, is also one of the finest in the old French, and in many +ways very unlike the commonplaces of chivalry, in the simplicity of +the household where Enid waits on her father's guest and takes his +horse to the stable, in the sincerity and clearness with which +Chrestien indicates the gentle breeding and dignity of her father and +mother, and the pervading spirit of grace and loyalty in the whole +scene.[87] + +[Footnote 87: The Welsh version has the advantage here in noting more +fully than Chrestien the beauty of age in Enid's mother: "And he +thought that there could be no woman fairer than she must have been in +the prime of her youth." Chrestien says merely (at the end of his +story, l. 6621):-- + + Bele est Enide et bele doit + Estre par reison et par droit, + Que bele dame est mout sa mere + Bel chevalier a an son pere.] + +In the story of Enid, Chrestien has a subject which recommends itself +to modern readers. The misunderstanding between Enid and her husband, +and the reconciliation, are not peculiarly medieval, though the +adventures through which their history is worked out are of the +ordinary romantic commonplace. + +Indeed the relation of husband and wife in this story is rather +exceptionally divergent from the current romantic mode, and from the +conventional law that true love between husband and wife was +impossible. Afterwards, in his poem of _Lancelot_ (_le Chevalier de la +Charrette_), Chrestien took up and worked out this conventional and +pedantic theory, and made the love of Lancelot and the Queen into the +standard for all courtly lovers. In his _Enid_, however, there is +nothing of this. At the same time, the courtly and chivalrous mode +gets the better of the central drama in his _Enid_, in so far as he +allows himself to be distracted unduly from the pair of lovers by +various "hyperboles" of the Romantic School; there are a number of +unnecessary jousts and encounters, and a mysterious exploit of Erec in +a magic garden, which is quite out of connexion with the rest of the +story. The final impression is that Chrestien wanted strength of mind +or inclination to concentrate himself on the drama of the two lovers. +The story is taken too lightly. + +In _Cliges_, his next work, the dramatic situation is much less +valuable than in _Enid_, but the workmanship is far more careful and +exact, and the result is a story which may claim to be among the +earliest of modern novels, if the Greek romances, to which it has a +close relation, are not taken into account. The story has very little +"machinery"; there are none of the marvels of the Faerie in it. There +is a Thessalian witch (the heroine's nurse), who keeps well within the +limits of possible witchcraft, and there is the incident of the +sleeping-draught (familiar in the ballad of the _Gay Goshawk_), and +that is all. The rest is a simple love-story (or rather a double +love-story, for there is the history of the hero's father and mother, +before his own begins), and the personages are merely true lovers, +undistinguished by any such qualities as the sulkiness of Erec or the +discretion of Enid. It is all pure sensibility, and as it happens the +sensibility is in good keeping--not overdriven into the pedantry of +the more quixotic troubadours and minnesingers, and not warped by the +conventions against marriage. It is explained at the end that, though +Cliges and Fenice are married, they are lovers still:-- + + De s'amie a feite sa fame, + Mais il l'apele amie et dame, + Que por ce ne pert ele mie + Que il ne l'aint come s'amie, + Et ele lui autresi + Con l'an doit feire son ami: + Et chascun jor lor amors crut, + N'onques cil celi ne mescrut, + Ne querela de nule chose. + + _Cliges_, l. 6753. + +This poem of Chrestien's is a collection of the finest specimens of +medieval rhetoric on the eternal theme. There is little incident, and +sensibility has it all its own way, in monologues by the actors and +digressions by the author, on the nature of love. It is rather the +sentiment than the passion that is here expressed in the "language of +the heart"; but, however that may be, there are both delicacy and +eloquence in the language. The pensive Fenice, who debates with +herself for nearly two hundred lines in one place (4410-4574), is the +ancestress of many later heroines. + + Meis Fenice est sor toz pansive; + Ele ne trueve fonz ne rive + El panser dont ele est anplie, + Tant li abonde et mouteplie. + + _Cliges_, l. 4339. + +In the later works of Chrestien, in _Yvain_, _Lancelot_, and +_Perceval_, there are new developments of romance, more particularly +in the story of Lancelot and Guinevere. But these three later stories, +unlike _Cliges_, are full of the British marvels, which no one would +wish away, and yet they are encumbrances to what we must regard as the +principal virtue of the poet--his skill of analysis in cases of +sentiment, and his interest in such cases. _Cliges_, at any rate, +however far it may come short of the _Chevalier de la Charrette_ and +the _Conte du Graal_ in variety, is that one of Chrestien's poems, it +might be said that one of the twelfth-century French romances, which +best corresponds to the later type of novel. It is the most modern of +them; and at the same time it does not represent its own age any the +worse, because it also to some extent anticipates the fashions of +later literature. + +In this kind of romance, which reduces the cost of the "machinery," +and does without enchanters, dragons, magic mists, and deadly castles, +there are many other examples besides _Cliges_. + +A hundred years after Chrestien, one of his cleverest pupils wrote the +Provençal story of _Flamenca_,[88] a work in which the form of the +novel is completely disengaged from the unnecessary accidents of +romance, and reaches a kind of positive and modern clearness very much +at variance in some respects with popular ideas of what is medieval. +The Romance of the medieval Romantic School attains one of its highest +and most distinctive points in _Flamenca_, and shows what it had been +aiming at from the beginning--namely, the expression in an elegant +manner of the ideas of the _Art of Love_, as understood in the polite +society of those times. _Flamenca_ is nearly contemporary with the +_Roman de la Rose_ of Guillaume de Lorris. Its inspiring ideas are the +same, and though its influence on succeeding authors is +indiscernible, where that of the _Roman de la Rose_ is widespread and +enduring, _Flamenca_ would have as good a claim to be considered a +representative masterpiece of medieval literature, if it were not that +it appears to be breaking loose from medieval conventions where the +_Roman de la Rose_ makes all it can out of them. _Flamenca_ is a +simple narrative of society, with the indispensable three +characters--the husband, the lady, and the lover. The scene of the +story is principally at the baths of Bourbon, in the then present day; +and of the miracles and adventures of the more marvellous and +adventurous romances there is nothing left but the very pleasant +enumeration of the names of favourite stories in the account of the +minstrelsy at Flamenca's wedding. The author knew all that was to be +known in romance, of Greek, Latin, or British invention--Thebes and +Troy, Alexander and Julius Caesar, Samson and Judas Maccabeus, Ivain +and Gawain and Perceval, Paris and Tristram, and all Ovid's _Legend of +Good Women_--but out of all these studies he has retained only what +suited his purpose. He does not compete with the Greek or the British +champions in their adventures among the romantic forests. Chrestien of +Troyes is his master, but he does not try to copy the magic of the +Lady of the Fountain, or the Bridge of the Sword, or the Castle of the +Grail. He follows the doctrine of love expounded in Chrestien's +_Lancelot_, but his hero is not sent wandering at random, and is not +made to display his courtly emotions among the ruins and shadows of +the lost Celtic mythology, like Lancelot in Chrestien's poem. The life +described in _Flamenca_ is the life of the days in which it was +composed; and the hero's task is to disguise himself as a clerk, so as +to get a word with the jealously-guarded lady in church on Sundays, +while giving her the Psalter to kiss after the Mass. _Flamenca_, is +really the triumph of Ovid, with the _Art of Love_, over all his +Gothic competitors out of the fairy tales. The Provençal poet has +discarded everything but the essential dominant interests, and in so +doing has gone ahead of his master Chrestien, who (except in _Cliges_) +allowed himself to be distracted between opposite kinds of story, +between the school of Ovid and the school of Blethericus; and who, +even in _Cliges_, was less consistently modern than his Provençal +follower. + +[Footnote 88: Ed. Paul Meyer, 1865, and, again, 1901.] + +_Flamenca_ is the perfection and completion of medieval romance in one +kind and in one direction. It is all sentiment; the ideal courtly +sentiment of good society and its poets, made lively by the author's +knowledge of his own time and its manners, and his decision not to +talk about anything else. It is perhaps significant that he allows his +heroine the romance of _Flores and Blanchefleur_ for her reading, an +older story of true lovers, after the simpler pattern of Greek +romance, which the author of _Flamenca_ apparently feels himself +entitled to refer to with the condescension of a modern and critical +author towards some old-fashioned prettiness. He is completely +self-possessed and ironical with regard to his story. His theme is the +idle love whose origin is explained by Ovid; his personages are +nothing to him but the instruments of the symphony which he composes +and directs: _sopra lor vanitŕ che par persona_, over and through +their graceful inanity, passes the stream of sentiment, the shifting, +flickering light which the Provençal author has borrowed from Ovid and +transferred for his own purposes to his own time. It is perhaps the +first complete modern appropriation of classical examples in literary +art; for the poem of _Flamenca_ is classical in more than one sense of +the term--classical, not only because of its comprehension of the +spirit of the Latin poet and his code of manners and sentiment, but +because of its clear proportions and its definite abstract lines of +composition; because of the self-possession of the author and his +subordination of details and rejection of irrelevances. + +Many things are wanting to _Flamenca_ which it did not suit the author +to bring in. It was left to other greater writers to venture on other +and larger schemes with room for more strength and individuality of +character, and more stress of passion, still keeping the romantic +framework which had been designed by the masters of the twelfth +century, and also very much of the sentimental language which the same +masters had invented and elaborated. + +The story of the _Chastelaine de Vergi_[89] (dated by its editor +between 1282 and 1288) is an example of a different kind from +_Flamenca_; still abstract in its personages, still sentimental, but +wholly unlike _Flamenca_ in the tragic stress of its sentiment and in +the pathos of its incidents. There is no plot in _Flamenca_, or only +just enough to display the author's resources of eloquence; in the +_Chastelaine de Vergi_ there is no rhetorical expansion or effusion, +but instead of that the coherent closely-reasoned argument of a +romantic tragedy, with nothing in it out of keeping with the +conditions of "real life." It is a moral example to show the +disastrous result of breaking the first law of chivalrous love, which +enjoins loyal secrecy on the lover; the tragedy in this case arises +from the strong compulsion of honour under which the commandment is +transgressed. + +[Footnote 89: Ed. G. Raynaud, _Romania_, xxi. p. 145.] + +There was a knight who was the lover of the Chastelaine de Vergi, +unknown to all the world. Their love was discovered by the jealous +machinations of the Duchess of Burgundy, whom the knight had +neglected. The Duchess made use of her knowledge to insult the +Chastelaine; the Chastelaine died of a broken heart at the thought +that her lover had betrayed her; the knight found her dead, and threw +himself on his sword to make amends for his unwilling disloyalty. Even +a summary like this may show that the plot has capabilities and +opportunities in it; and though the scheme of the short story does not +allow the author to make use of them in the full detailed manner of +the great novelists, he understands what he is about, and his work is +a very fine instance of sensitive and clearly-executed medieval +narrative, which has nothing to learn (in its own kind, and granting +the conditions assumed by the author) from any later fiction. + +The story of the _Lady of Vergi_ was known to Boccaccio, and was +repeated both by Bandello and by Queen Margaret of Navarre. + +It is time to consider how the work of the medieval romantic schools +was taken up and continued by many of the most notable writers of the +period which no longer can be called medieval, in which modern +literature makes a new and definite beginning; especially in the works +of the two modern poets who have done most to save and adapt the +inheritance of medieval romance for modern forms of literature--Boccaccio +and Chaucer. + +The development of romance in these authors is not always and in all +respects a gain. Even the pathetic stories of the _Decameron_ (such as +the _Pot of Basil_, _Tancred and Gismunda_, _William of Cabestaing_) +seem to have lost something by the adoption of a different kind of +grammar, a more learned rhetoric, in comparison with the best of the +simple French stories, like the _Chastelaine de Vergi_. This is the +case in a still greater degree where Boccaccio has allowed himself a +larger scale, as in his version of the old romance of _Flores and +Blanchefleur_ (_Filocolo_), while his _Teseide_ might be taken as the +first example in modern history of the pernicious effect of classical +studies. The _Teseide_ is the story of Palamon and Arcita. The +original is lost, but it evidently was a French romance, probably not +a long one; one of the favourite well-defined cases or problems of +love, easily understood as soon as stated, presenting the rivalry of +the two noble kinsmen for the love of the lady Emily. It might have +been made into one of the stories of the _Decameron_, but Boccaccio +had other designs for it. He wished to write a classical epic in +twelve books, and not very fortunately chose this simple theme as the +groundwork of his operations. The _Teseide_ is the first of the solemn +row of modern epics; "reverend and divine, abiding without motion, +shall we say that they have being?" Everything is to be found in the +_Teseide_ that the best classical traditions require in epic--Olympian +machinery, catalogues of armies, descriptions of works of art to +compete with the Homeric and Virgilian shields, elaborate battles, and +epic similes, and funeral games. Chaucer may have been at one time +tempted by all this magnificence; his final version of the story, in +the _Knight's Tale_, is a proof among other things of his critical +tact. He must have recognised that the _Teseide_, with all its +ambition and its brilliancy of details, was a failure as a story; that +this particular theme, at any rate, was not well fitted to carry the +epic weight. These personages of romance were not in training for the +heavy classical panoply. So he reduced the story of Palamon and Arcita +to something not very different from what must have been its original +scale as a romance. His modifications of Boccaccio here are a lesson +in the art of narrative which can hardly be overvalued by students of +that mystery. + +Chaucer's procedure in regard to his romantic subjects is often very +difficult to understand. How firm and unwavering his critical +meditations and calculations were may be seen by a comparison of the +_Knight's Tale_ with its Italian source. At other times and in other +stories he appears to have worked on different principles, or without +much critical study at all. The _Knight's Tale_ is a complete and +perfect version of a medieval romance, worked out with all the +resources of Chaucer's literary study and reflexion; tested and +considered and corrected in every possible way. The story of +_Constance_ (the _Man of Law's Tale_) is an earlier work in which +almost everything is lacking that is found in the mere workmanship of +the _Knight's Tale_; though not, of course, the humanity, the pathos, +of Chaucer. The story of _Constance_ appears to have been taken by +Chaucer from one of the least artificial specimens of medieval +romance, the kind of romance that worked up in a random sort of way +the careless sequence of incidents in a popular traditional tale. Just +as the tellers of the stories in Campbell's _Highland Tales_, and +other authentic collections, make no scruple about proportion where +their memory happens to fail them or their irrelevant fancy to +distract them, but go on easily, dropping out a symmetrical adventure +here and there, and repeating a favourite "machine" if necessary or +unnecessary; so the story of _Constance_ forgets and repeats itself. +The voice is the voice of Chaucer, and so are the thoughts, but the +order or disorder of the story is that of the old wives' tales when +the old wives are drowsy. All the principal situations occur twice +over; twice the heroine is persecuted by a wicked mother-in-law, twice +sent adrift in a rudderless boat, twice rescued from a churl, and so +on. In this story the poetry of Chaucer appears as something almost +independent of the structure of the plot; there has been no such +process of design and reconstruction as in the _Knight's Tale_. + +It is almost as strange to find Chaucer in other stories, as in the +_Franklin's Tale_ and the _Clerk's Tale_, putting up with the most +abstract medieval conventions of morality; the Point of Honour in the +_Franklin's Tale_, and the unmitigated virtue of Griselda, are +hopelessly opposed to anything like dramatic truth, and very far +inferior as motives to the ethical ideas of many stories of the +twelfth century. The truth of _Enid_ would have given no opportunity +for the ironical verses in which Chaucer takes his leave of the Clerk +of Oxford and his heroine. + +In these romances Chaucer leaves some old medieval difficulties +unresolved and unreconciled, without attempting to recast the +situation as he found it in his authorities, or to clear away the +element of unreason in it. He takes the framework as he finds it, and +embroiders his poetry over it, leaving an obvious discrepancy between +his poetry and its subject-matter. + +In some other stories, as in the _Legend of Good Women_, and the tale +of Virginia, he is content with pathos, stopping short of vivid drama. +In the _Knight's Tale_ he seems to have deliberately chosen a +compromise between the pathetic mood of pure romance and a fuller +dramatic method; he felt, apparently, that while the contrast between +the two rivals admitted of drama, the position of the lady Emily in +the story was such as to prevent a full dramatic rendering of all the +characters. The plot required that the lady Emily should be left +without much share of her own in the action. + +The short and uncompleted poem of _Anelida_ gains in significance and +comes into its right place in Chaucer's works, when it is compared +with such examples of the older school as the _Chastelaine de Vergi_. +It is Chaucer's essay in that delicate abstract fashion of story which +formed one of the chief accomplishments of the French Romantic School. +It is his acknowledgment of his debt to the artists of sensibility, +the older French authors, "that can make of sentiment," and it proves, +like all his writings, how quick he was to save all he could from the +teaching of his forerunners, for the profit of "that fair style that +has brought him honour." To treat a simple problem, or "case," of +right and wrong in love, was a favourite task of medieval courtly +poetry, narrative and lyric. Chaucer in his _Anelida_ takes up this +old theme again, treating it in a form between narrative and lyric, +with the pure abstract melody that gives the mood of the actors apart +from any dramatic individuality. He is one of the Extractors of +Quintessence, and his _Anelida_ is the formal spirit, impalpable yet +definite, of the medieval courtly romance. + +It is not here, but in a poem the opposite of this in fulness and +richness of drama, that Chaucer attains a place for himself above all +other authors as the poet who saw what was needed to transform +medieval romance out of its limitations into a new kind of narrative. +Chaucer's _Troilus and Criseyde_ is the poem in which medieval romance +passes out of itself into the form of the modern novel. What Cervantes +and what Fielding did was done first by Chaucer; and this was the +invention of a kind of story in which life might be represented no +longer in a conventional or abstract manner, or with sentiment and +pathos instead of drama, but with characters adapting themselves to +different circumstances, no longer obviously breathed upon by the +master of the show to convey his own ideas, but moving freely and +talking like men and women. The romance of the Middle Ages comes to an +end, in one of the branches of the family tree, by the production of a +romance that has all the freedom of epic, that comprehends all good +and evil, and excludes nothing as common or unclean which can be made +in any way to strengthen the impression of life and variety. Chaucer +was not tempted by the phantasm of the Epic Poem like Boccaccio, and +like so many of the great and wise in later generations. The substance +of Epic, since his time, has been appropriated by certain writers of +history, as Fielding has explained in his lectures on that science in +_Tom Jones_. The first in the line of these modern historians is +Chaucer with his _Troilus and Criseyde_, and the wonder still is as +great as it was for Sir Philip Sidney:-- + + Chaucer undoubtedly did excellently in his _Troylus_ and + _Cresseid_; of whom, truly I know not whether to mervaile + more, either that he in that mistie time could see so + clearely, or that wee in this cleare age walke so + stumblingly after him. + +His great work grew out of the French Romantic School. The episode of +Troilus and Briseide in Benoit's _Roman de Troie_ is one of the best +passages in the earlier French romance; light and unsubstantial like +all the work of that School, but graceful, and not untrue. It is all +summed up in the monologue of Briseide at the end of her story (l. +20,308):-- + + Dex donge bien a Troylus! + Quant nel puis amer ne il mei + A cestui[90] me done et otrei. + Molt voldreie aveir cel talent + Que n'eüsse remembrement + Des ovres faites d'en arriere: + Ço me fait mal ŕ grant maničre! + +[Footnote 90: _i.e._ Diomede.] + +Boccaccio took up this story, from the Latin version of the Tale of +Troy, the _Historia Trojana_ of Guido. His _Filostrato_ is written on +a different plan from the _Teseide_; it is one of his best works. He +did not make it into an epic poem; the _Filostrato_, Boccaccio's +_Troilus and Cressida_, is a romance, differing from the older French +romantic form not in the design of the story, but in the new poetical +diction in which it is composed, and its new poetical ideas. There is +no false classicism in it, as there is in his _Palamon and Arcita_; it +is a novel of his own time, a story of the _Decameron_, only written +at greater length, and in verse. Chaucer, the "great translator," took +Boccaccio's poem and treated it in his own way, not as he had dealt +with the _Teseide_. The _Teseide_, because there was some romantic +improbability in the story, he made into a romance. The story of +Troilus he saw was strong enough to bear a stronger handling, and +instead of leaving it a romance, graceful and superficial as it is in +Boccaccio, he deepened it and filled it with such dramatic imagination +and such variety of life as had never been attained before his time by +any romancer; and the result is a piece of work that leaves all +romantic convention behind. The _Filostrato_ of Boccaccio is a story +of light love, not much more substantial, except in its new poetical +language, than the story of _Flamenca_. In Chaucer the passion of +Troilus is something different from the sentiment of romance; the +changing mind of Cressida is represented with an understanding of the +subtlety and the tragic meaning of that life which is "Time's fool." +Pandarus is the other element. In Boccaccio he is a personage of the +same order as Troilus and Cressida; they all might have come out of +the Garden of the _Decameron_, and there is little to choose between +them. Chaucer sets him up with a character and a philosophy of his +own, to represent the world outside of romance. The Comic Genius +claims a share in the tragedy, and the tragedy makes room for him, +because the tragic personages, "Tragic Comedians" as they are, can +bear the strain of the contrast. The selection of personages and +motives is made in another way in the romantic schools, but this poem +of Chaucer's is not romance. It is the fulfilment of the prophecy of +Socrates, just before Aristophanes and the tragic poet had to be put +to bed at the end of the _Symposium_, that the best author of tragedy +is the best author of comedy also. It is the freedom of the +imagination, beyond all the limits of partial and conventional forms. + + + + +NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS + + + + +APPENDIX + + +NOTE A (p. 133) + +_Rhetoric of the Western and Northern Alliterative Poems_ + +Any page of the Anglo-Saxon poets, and of the "Elder Edda," will show +the difference between the "continuous" and the "discrete"--the +Western and the Northern--modes of the alliterative verse. It may be +convenient to select some passages here for reference. + +(1) As an example of the Western style ("the sense variously drawn out +from one verse to another"), the speech of the "old warrior" stirring +up vengeance for King Froda (_Beowulf_, l. 2041 _sq._; see above, p. +70):-- + + ţonne cwiđ ćt beore se đe beah gesyhđ, + eald ćscwiga, se đe eall geman + garcwealm gumena (him biđ grim sefa) + onginneđ geomormod geongum cempan + ţurh hređra gehygd higes cunnian, + wigbealu weccean, ond ţćt word acwyđ: + "Meaht đu, min wine, mece gecnawan, + ţone ţin fćder to gefeohte bćr + under heregriman, hindeman siđe, + dyre iren, ţćr hine Dene slogon, + weoldon wćlstowe, syđđan Wiđergyld lćg + ćfter hćleţa hryre, hwate Scyldingas? + Nu her ţara banena byre nathwylces, + frćtwum hremig, on flet gćđ, + mordres gylpeđ ond ţone mađţum byređ + ţone ţe ţu mid rihte rćdan sceoldest!" + +(The "old warrior"--no less a hero than Starkad himself, according to +Saxo--bears a grudge on account of the slaying of Froda, and cannot +endure the reconciliation that has been made. He sees the reconciled +enemies still wearing the spoils of war, arm-rings, and even Froda's +sword, and addresses Ingeld, Froda's son):-- + + Over the ale he speaks, seeing the ring, + the old warrior, that remembers all, + the spear-wrought slaying of men (his thought is grim), + with sorrow at heart begins with the young champion, + in study of mind to make trial of his valour, + to waken the havoc of war, and thus he speaks: + "Knowest thou, my lord? nay, well thou knowest the falchion + that thy father bore to the fray, + wearing his helmet of war, in that last hour, + the blade of price, where the Danes him slew, + and kept the field, when Withergyld was brought down + after the heroes' fall; yea, the Danish princes slew him! + See now, a son of one or other of the men of blood, + glorious in apparel, goes through the hall, + boasts of the stealthy slaying, and bears the goodly heirloom + that thou of right shouldst have and hold!" + +(2) The Northern arrangement, with "the sense concluded in the +couplet," is quite different from the Western style. There is no need +to quote more than a few lines. The following passage is from the last +scene of _Helgi and Sigrun_ (_C.P.B._, i. p. 143; see p. 72 +above--"Yet precious are the draughts," etc.):-- + + Vel skolom drekka dýrar veigar + ţótt misst hafim munar ok landa: + skal engi mađr angr-lióđ kveđa, + ţótt mer á briósti benjar líti. + Nú ero brúđir byrgđar í haugi, + lofđa dísir, hjá oss liđnom. + +The figure of _Anadiplosis_ (or the "Redouble," as it is called in the +_Arte of English Poesie_) is characteristic of a certain group of +Northern poems. See the note on this, with references, in _C.P.B._, +i. p. 557. The poems in which this device appears are the poems of the +heroines (Brynhild, Gudrun, Oddrun), the heroic idylls of the North. +In these poems the repetition of a phrase, as in the Greek pastoral +poetry and its descendants, has the effect of giving solemnity to the +speech, and slowness of movement to the line. + +So in the _Long Lay of Brynhild_ (_C.P.B._, i. p. 296):-- + + svárar sifjar, svarna eiđa, + eiđa svarna, unnar trygđir; + +and (_ibid._)-- + + hann vas fyr utan eiđa svarna, + eiđa svarna, unnar trygđir; + +and in the _Old Lay of Gudrun_ (_C.P.B._, i. p. 319)-- + + Hverr vildi mer hnossir velja + hnossir velja, ok hugat mćla. + +There are other figures which have the same effect:-- + + Gott es at ráđa Rínar malmi, + ok unandi auđi styra, + ok sitjandi sćlo nióta. + + _C.P.B._, i. p. 296. + +But apart from these emphatic forms of phrasing, all the sentences are +so constructed as to coincide with the divisions of the lines, whereas +in the Western poetry, Saxon and Anglo-Saxon, the phrases are made to +cut across the lines, the sentences having their own limits, +independent of the beginnings and endings of the verses. + + +NOTE B (p. 205) + +_The Meeting of Kjartan and King Olaf Tryggvason_ (_Laxdćla Saga_, c. +40) + +Kjartan rode with his father east from Hjardarholt, and they parted in +Northwaterdale; Kjartan rode on to the ship, and Bolli, his kinsman, +went along with him. There were ten men of Iceland all together that +followed Kjartan out of goodwill; and with this company he rides to +the harbour. Kalf Asgeirsson welcomes them all. Kjartan and Bolli took +a rich freight with them. So they made themselves ready to sail, and +when the wind was fair they sailed out and down the Borg firth with a +gentle breeze and good, and so out to sea. They had a fair voyage, and +made the north of Norway, and so into Throndheim. There they asked for +news, and it was told them that the land had changed its masters; Earl +Hacon was gone, and King Olaf Tryggvason come, and the whole of Norway +had fallen under his sway. King Olaf was proclaiming a change of law; +men did not take it all in the same way. Kjartan and his fellows +brought their ship into Nidaros. + +At that time there were in Norway many Icelanders who were men of +reputation. There at the wharves were lying three ships all belonging +to men of Iceland: one to Brand the Generous, son of Vermund +Thorgrimsson; another to Hallfred the Troublesome Poet; the third ship +was owned by two brothers, Bjarni and Thorhall, sons of Skeggi, east +in Fleetlithe,--all these men had been bound for Iceland in the +summer, but the king had arrested the ships because these men would +not accept the faith that he was proclaiming. Kjartan was welcomed by +them all, and most of all by Brand, because they had been well +acquainted earlier. The Icelanders all took counsel together, and this +was the upshot, that they bound themselves to refuse the king's new +law. Kjartan and his mates brought in their ship to the quay, and fell +to work to land their freight. + +King Olaf was in the town; he hears of the ship's coming, and that +there were men in it of no small account. It fell out on a bright day +in harvest-time that Kjartan's company saw a number of men going to +swim in the river Nith. Kjartan said they ought to go too, for the +sport; and so they did. There was one man of the place who was far +the best swimmer. Kjartan says to Bolli: + +"Will you try your swimming against this townsman?" + +Bolli answers: "I reckon that is more than my strength." + +"I know not what is become of your hardihood," says Kjartan; "but I +will venture it myself." + +"That you may, if you please," says Bolli. + +Kjartan dives into the river, and so out to the man that swam better +than all the rest; him he takes hold of and dives under with him, and +holds him under for a time, and then lets him go. After that they swam +for a little, and then the stranger takes Kjartan and goes under with +him, and holds him under, none too short a time, as it seemed to +Kjartan. Then they came to the top, but there were no words between +them. They dived together a third time, and were down longer than +before. Kjartan thought it hard to tell how the play would end; it +seemed to him that he had never been in so tight a place in his life. +However, they come up at last, and strike out for the land. + +Then says the stranger: "Who may this man be?" + +Kjartan told his name. + +The townsman said: "You are a good swimmer; are you as good at other +sports as at this?" + +Kjartan answers, but not very readily: "When I was in Iceland it was +thought that my skill in other things was much of a piece; but now +there is not much to be said about it." + +The townsman said: "It may make some difference to know with whom you +have been matched; why do you not ask?" + +Kjartan said: "I care nothing for your name." + +The townsman says: "For one thing you are a good man of your hands, +and for another you bear yourself otherwise than humbly; none the less +shall you know my name and with whom you have been swimming; I am +Olaf Tryggvason, the king." + +Kjartan makes no answer, and turns to go away. He had no cloak, but a +coat of scarlet cloth. The king was then nearly dressed. He called to +Kjartan to wait a little; Kjartan turned and came back, rather slowly. +Then the king took from his shoulders a rich cloak and gave it to +Kjartan, saying he should not go cloakless back to his men. Kjartan +thanks the king for his gift, and goes to his men and shows them the +cloak. They did not take it very well, but thought he had allowed the +king too much of a hold on him. + +Things were quiet for a space; the weather began to harden with frost +and cold. The heathen men said it was no wonder they had ill weather +that autumn; it was all the king's newfangledness and the new law that +had made the gods angry. + +The Icelanders were all together that winter in the town; and Kjartan +took the lead among them. In time the weather softened, and men came +in numbers to the town at the summons of King Olaf. Many men had taken +the Christian faith in Throndheim, but those were more in number who +were against it. One day the king held an assembly in the town, out on +the point of Eyre, and declared the Faith with many eloquent words. +The Thronds had a great multitude there, and offered battle to the +king on the spot. The king said they should know that he had fought +against greater powers than to think of scuffling with clowns in +Throndheim. Then the yeomen were cowed, and gave in wholly to the +king, and many men were christened; then the assembly broke up. + +That same evening the king sends men to the Icelanders' inn to observe +and find out how they talked. When the messengers came there, there +was a loud sound of voices within. + +Kjartan spoke, and said to Bolli: "Kinsman, are you willing to take +this faith of the king's?" + +"I am not," says Bolli, "for it seems to me a feeble, pithless thing." + +Says Kjartan: "Seemed the king to you to have no threats for those +that refused to accept his will?" + +Says Bolli: "Truly the king seemed to us to come out clearly and leave +no shadow on that head, that they should have hard measure dealt +them." + +"No man's underling will I be," says Kjartan, "while I can keep my +feet and handle a sword; it seems to me a pitiful thing to be taken +thus like a lamb out of the pen, or a fox out of the trap. I hold it a +far better choice, if one must die, to do something first that shall +be long talked of after." + +"What will you do?" says Bolli. + +"I will not make a secret of it," says Kjartan; "burn the king's +house, and the king in it." + +"I call that no mean thing to do," says Bolli; "but yet it will not +be, for I reckon that the king has no small grace and good luck along +with him; and he keeps a strong watch day and night." + +Kjartan said that courage might fail the stoutest man; Bolli answered +that it was still to be tried whose courage would hold out longest. +Then many broke in and said that this talk was foolishness; and when +the king's spies had heard so much, they went back to the king and +told him how the talk had gone. + +On the morrow the king summons an assembly; and all the Icelanders +were bidden to come. When all were met, the king stood up and thanked +all men for their presence, those who were willing to be his friends +and had taken the Faith. Then he fell to speech with the Icelanders. +The king asks if they will be christened. They make little sound of +agreement to that. The king said that they might make a choice that +would profit them less. + +"Which of you was it that thought it convenient to burn me in my +house?" + +Then says Kjartan: "You think that he will not have the honesty to +confess it, he that said this. But here you may see him." + +"See thee I may," says the king, "and a man of no mean imagination; +yet it is not in thy destiny to see my head at thy feet. And good +enough cause might I have to stay thee from offering to burn kings in +their houses in return for their good advice; but because I know not +how far thy thought went along with thy words, and because of thy +manly declaration, thou shalt not lose thy life for this; it may be +that thou wilt hold the Faith better, as thou speakest against it more +than others. I can see, too, that it will bring the men of all the +Iceland ships to accept the Faith the same day that thou art +christened of thine own free will. It seems to me also like enough +that thy kinsmen and friends in Iceland will listen to what thou +sayest when thou art come out thither again. It is not far from my +thought that thou, Kjartan, mayst have a better Faith when thou +sailest from Norway than when thou camest hither. Go now all in peace +and liberty whither you will from this meeting; you shall not be +penned into Christendom; for it is the word of God that He will not +have any come to Him save in free will." + +There was much approval of this speech of the king's, yet chiefly from +the Christians; the heathen men left it to Kjartan to answer as he +would. Then said Kjartan: "We will thank you, Sir, for giving us your +peace; this more than anything would draw us to accept your Faith, +that you renounce all grounds of enmity and speak gently altogether, +though you have our whole fortunes in your hand to-day. And this is in +my mind, only to accept the Faith in Norway if I may pay some small +respect to Thor next winter when I come to Iceland." + +Then answered the king, smiling: "It is well seen from the bearing of +Kjartan that he thinks he has better surety in his strength and his +weapons than there where Thor and Odin are." + +After that the assembly broke up. + + +NOTE C (p. 257) + + _Eyjolf Karsson_: an Episode in the History of Bishop + Gudmund Arason, A.D. 1222 (from _Arons Saga Hjörleifssonar_, + c. 8, printed in _Biskupa Sögur_, i., and in _Sturlunga_, + ii. pp. 312-347). + + [Eyjolf Karsson and Aron stood by Bishop Gudmund in his + troubles, and followed him out to his refuge in the island + of Grimsey, lying off the north coast of Iceland, about 30 + miles from the mouth of Eyjafirth. There the Bishop was + attacked by the Sturlungs, Sighvat (brother of Snorri + Sturluson) and his son Sturla. His men were out-numbered; + Aron was severely wounded. This chapter describes how Eyjolf + managed to get his friend out of danger and how he went back + himself and was killed.] + +Now the story turns to Eyjolf and Aron. When many of Eyjolf's men were +down, and some had run to the church, he took his way to the place +where Aron and Sturla had met, and there he found Aron sitting with +his weapons, and all about were lying dead men and wounded. It is +reckoned that nine men must have lost their lives there. Eyjolf asks +his cousin whether he can move at all. Aron says that he can, and +stands on his feet; and now they go both together for a while by the +shore, till they come to a hidden bay; there they saw a boat ready +floating, with five or six men at the oars, and the bow to sea. This +was Eyjolf's arrangement, in case of sudden need. Now Eyjolf tells +Aron that he means the boat for both of them; giving out that he sees +no hope of doing more for the Bishop at that time. + +"But I look for better days to come," says Eyjolf. + +"It seems a strange plan to me," says Aron; "for I thought that we +should never part from Bishop Gudmund in this distress; there is +something behind this, and I vow that I will not go unless you go +first on board." + +"That I will not, cousin," says Eyjolf; "for it is shoal water here, +and I will not have any of the oarsmen leave his oar to shove her off; +and it is far too much for you to go afoot with wounds like yours. You +will have to go on board." + +"Well, put your weapons in the boat," says Aron, "and I will believe +you." + +Aron now goes on board; and Eyjolf did as Aron asked him. Eyjolf waded +after, pushing the boat, for the shallows went far out. And when he +saw the right time come, Eyjolf caught up a battle-axe out of the +stern of the boat, and gave a shove to the boat with all his might. + +"Good-bye, Aron," says Eyjolf; "we shall meet again when God pleases." + +And since Aron was disabled with wounds, and weary with loss of blood, +it had to be even so; and this parting was a grief to Aron, for they +saw each other no more. + +Now Eyjolf spoke to the oarsmen and told them to row hard, and not to +let Aron come back to Grimsey that day, and not for many a day if they +could help it. + +They row away with Aron in their boat; but Eyjolf turns to the shore +again and to a boat-house with a large ferry-boat in it, that belonged +to the goodman Gnup. And at the same nick of time he sees the Sturlung +company come tearing down from the garth, having finished their +mischief there. Eyjolf takes to the boat-house, with his mind made up +to defend it as long as his doom would let him. There were double +doors to the boat-house, and he puts heavy stones against them. + +Brand, one of Sighvat's followers, a man of good condition, caught a +glimpse of a man moving, and said to his companions that he thought he +had made out Eyjolf Karsson there, and they ought to go after him. +Sturla was not on the spot; there were nine or ten together. So they +come to the boat-house. Brand asks who is there, and Eyjolf says it is +he. + +"Then you will please to come out and come before Sturla," says Brand. + +"Will you promise me quarter?" says Eyjolf. + +"There will be little of that," says Brand. + +"Then it is for you to come on," says Eyjolf, "and for me to guard; and +it seems to me the shares are ill divided." + +Eyjolf had a coat of mail, and a great axe, and that was all. + +Now they came at him, and he made a good and brave defence; he cut +their pike-shafts through; there were stout strokes on both sides. And +in that bout Eyjolf breaks his axe-heft, and catches up an oar, and +then another, and both break with his blows. And in this bout Eyjolf +gets a thrust under his arm, and it came home. Some say that he broke +the shaft from the spear-head, and let it stay in the wound. He sees +now that his defence is ended. Then he made a dash out, and got +through them, before they knew. They were not expecting this; still +they kept their heads, and a man named Mar cut at him and caught his +ankle, so that his foot hung crippled. With that he rolls down the +beach, and the sea was at the flood. In such plight as he was in, +Eyjolf set to and swam; and swimming he came twelve fathoms from shore +to a shelf of rock, and knelt there; and then he fell full length upon +the earth, and spread his hands from him, turning to the East as if to +pray. + +Now they launch the boat, and go after him. And when they came to the +rock, a man drove a spear into him, and then another, but no blood +flowed from either wound. So they turn to go ashore, and find Sturla +and tell him the story plainly how it had all fallen out. Sturla held, +and other men too, that this had been a glorious defence. He showed +that he was pleased at the news. + + +NOTE D (p. 360) + +_Two Catalogues of Romances_ + +There are many references to books and cycles of romance in medieval +literature--minstrels' enumerations of their stock-in-trade, and +humorous allusions like those of Sir Thopas, and otherwise. There are +two passages, among others, which seem to do their best to cover the +whole ground, or at least to exemplify all the chief groups. One of +these is that referred to in the text, from _Flamenca_; the other is +to be found, much later, in the _Complaint of Scotland_ (1549). + +I. FLAMENCA (ll. 609-701) + + Qui volc ausir diverses comtes + De reis, de marques e de comtes, + Auzir ne poc tan can si volc; + Anc null' aurella non lai colc, + Quar l'us comtet de Priamus, + E l'autre diz de Piramus; + L'us contet de la bell'Elena + Com Paris l'enquer, pois l'anmena; + L'autres comtava d'Ulixes, + L'autre d'Ector et d'Achilles; + L'autre comtava d'Eneas, + E de Dido consi remas + Per lui dolenta e mesquina; + L'autre comtava de Lavina + Con fes lo breu el cairel traire + A la gaita de l'auzor caire; + L'us contet d'Apollonices + De Tideu e d'Etidiocles; + L'autre comtava d'Apolloine + Comsi retenc Tyr de Sidoine; + L'us comtet del rei Alexandri + L'autre d'Ero et de Leandri; + L'us dis de Catmus quan fugi + Et de Tebas con las basti, + L'autre contava de Jason + E del dragon que non hac son; + L'us comte d'Alcide sa forsa, + L'autre con tornet en sa forsa + Phillis per amor Demophon; + L'us dis com neguet en la fon + Lo bels Narcis quan s'i miret; + L'us dis de Pluto con emblet + Sa bella moillier ad Orpheu; + L'autre comtet del Philisteu + Golias, consi fon aucis + Ab treis peiras quel trais David; + L'us diz de Samson con dormi, + Quan Dalidan liet la cri; + L'autre comtet de Machabeu + Comen si combatet per Dieu; + L'us comtet de Juli Cesar + Com passet tot solet la mar, + E no i preguet Nostre Senor + Que nous cujes agues paor; + L'us diz de la Taula Redonda + Que no i venc homs que noil responda + Le reis segon sa conoissensa, + Anc nuil jorn ne i failli valensa; + L'autre comtava de Galvain, + E del leo que fon compain + Del cavallier qu'estors Luneta; + L'us diz de la piucella breta + Con tenc Lancelot en preiso + Cant de s'amor li dis de no; + L'autre comtet de Persaval + Co venc a la cort a caval; + L'us comtet d'Erec e d'Enida, + L'autre d'Ugonet de Perida; + L'us comtava de Governail + Com per Tristan ac grieu trebail, + L'autre comtava de Feniza + Con transir la fes sa noirissa + L'us dis del Bel Desconogut + E l'autre del vermeil escut + Que l'yras trobet a l'uisset; + L'autre comtava de Guiflet; + L'us comtet de Calobrenan, + L'autre dis con retenc un an + Dins sa preison Quec senescal + Lo deliez car li dis mal; + L'autre comtava de Mordret; + L'us retrais lo comte Duret + Com fo per los Ventres faiditz + E per Rei Pescador grazits; + L'us comtet l'astre d'Ermeli, + L'autre dis com fan l'Ancessi + Per gein lo Veil de la Montaina; + L'us retrais con tenc Alamaina + Karlesmaines tro la parti, + De Clodoveu e de Pipi + Comtava l'us tota l'istoria; + L'autre dis con cazec de gloria + Donz Lucifers per son ergoil; + L'us diz del vallet de Nantoil, + L'autre d'Oliveir de Verdu. + L'us dis lo vers de Marcabru, + L'autre comtet con Dedalus + Saup ben volar, et d'Icarus + Co neguet per sa leujaria. + Cascus dis lo mieil que sabia. + Per la rumor dels viuladors + E per brug d'aitans comtadors + Hac gran murmuri per la sala. + +The allusions are explained by the editor, M. Paul Meyer. The stories +are as follows: Priam, Pyramus, Helen, Ulysses, Hector, Achilles, +Dido, Lavinia (how she sent her letter with an arrow over the +sentinel's head, _Roman d'Eneas_, l. 8807, _sq._), Polynices, Tydeus, +and Eteocles; Apollonius of Tyre; Alexander; Hero and Leander; Cadmus +of Thebes; Jason and the sleepless Dragon; Hercules; Demophoon and +Phyllis (a hard passage); Narcissus; Pluto and the wife of Orpheus +("Sir Orfeo"); David and Goliath; Samson and Dalila; Judas Maccabeus; +Julius Caesar; the Round Table, and how the king had an answer for all +who sought him; Gawain and Yvain ("of the lion that was companion of +the knight whom Lunete rescued"[91]); of the British maiden who kept +Lancelot imprisoned when he refused her love; of Perceval, how he rode +into hall; Ugonet de Perida (?); Governail, the loyal comrade of +Tristram; Fenice and the sleeping-draught (Chrestien's _Cliges_, see +p. 357, above); Guinglain ("Sir Libeaus)"; Chrestien's _Chevalier de +la Charrette_ ("how the herald found the red shield at the entry," an +allusion explained by M. Gaston Paris, in _Romania_, xvi. p. 101), +Guiflet, Calobrenan, Kay punished for his railing accusations; +Mordred; how the Count Duret was dispossessed by the Vandals and +welcomed by the Fisher King (?); the luck of Hermelin (?); the Old Man +of the Mountain and his Assassins; the Wars of Charlemagne; Clovis and +Pepin of France; the Fall of Lucifer; Gui de Nanteuil; Oliver of +Verdun; the Flight of Daedalus, and how Icarus was drowned through his +vanity. The songs of Marcabrun, the troubadour, find a place in the +list among the stories. + +[Footnote 91: In a somewhat similar list of romances, in the Italian +poem of _L'Intelligenza_, ascribed to Dino Compagni (st. 75), Luneta +is named Analida; possibly the origin of Chaucer's Anelida, a name +which has not been clearly traced.] + +The author of _Flamenca_ has arranged his library, though there are +some incongruities; Daedalus belongs properly to the "matter of Rome" +with which the catalogue begins, and Lucifer interrupts the series of +_Chansons de geste_. The "matter of Britain," however, is all by +itself, and is well represented. + +II. THE COMPLAYNT OF SCOTLAND, c. vi. + +(Ed. J.A.H. Murray, _E.E.T.S._, pp. 62-64) + +[This passage belongs to the close of the Middle Ages, when the old +epic and romantic books were falling into neglect. There is no +distinction here between literary romance and popular tales; the +once-fashionable poetical works are reduced to their original +elements. Arthur and Gawain are no more respected than the Red Etin, +or the tale of the _Well at the World's End_ (the reading _volfe_ in +the text has no defender); the Four Sons of Aymon have become what +they were afterwards for Boileau (_Ep._ xi. 20), or rather for +Boileau's gardener. But, on the whole, the list represents the common +medieval taste in fiction. The _Chansons de geste_ have provided the +_Bridge of the Mantrible_ (from _Oliver and Fierabras_, which may be +intended in the _Flamenca_ reference to Oliver), and the _Siege of +Milan_ (see _English Charlemagne Romances_, _E.E.T.S._, part ii.), as +well as the _Four Sons of Aymon_ and _Sir Bevis_. The Arthurian cycle +is popular; the romance of _Sir Ywain_ (the Knight of the Lion) is +here, however, the only one that can be definitely traced in the +_Flamenca_ list also, though of course there is a general +correspondence in subject-matter. The classical fables from Ovid are +still among the favourites, and many of them are common to both lists. +See Dr. Furnivall's note, in the edition cited, pp. lxxiii.-lxxxii.] + +Quhen the scheiphird hed endit his prolixt orison to the laif of the +scheiphirdis, i meruellit nocht litil quhen i herd ane rustic pastour +of bestialite, distitut of vrbanite, and of speculatioune of natural +philosophe, indoctryne his nychtbours as he hed studeit ptholome, +auerois, aristotel, galien, ypocrites, or Cicero, quhilk var expert +practicians in methamatic art. Than the scheiphirdis vyf said: my veil +belouit hisband, i pray the to desist fra that tideus melancolic +orison, quhilk surpassis thy ingyne, be rason that it is nocht thy +facultee to disput in ane profund mater, the quhilk thy capacite can +nocht comprehend. ther for, i thynk it best that ve recreat our selfis +vytht ioyus comonyng quhil on to the tyme that ve return to the scheip +fald vytht our flokkis. And to begin sic recreatione i thynk it best +that everie ane of vs tel ane gude tayl or fable, to pas the tyme +quhil euyn. Al the scheiphirdis, ther vyuis and saruandis, var glaid +of this propositione. than the eldest scheiphird began, and al the +laif follouit, ane be ane in their auen place. it vil be ouer prolixt, +and no les tideus to reherse them agane vord be vord. bot i sal +reherse sum of ther namys that i herd. Sum vas in prose and sum vas +in verse: sum vas stories and sum var flet taylis. Thir var the namis +of them as eftir follouis: the taylis of cantirberrye, Robert le +dyabil duc of Normandie, the tayl of the volfe of the varldis end, +Ferrand erl of Flandris that mareit the deuyl, the taiyl of the reyde +eyttyn vitht the thre heydis, the tail quhou perseus sauit andromada +fra the cruel monstir, the prophysie of merlyne, the tayl of the +giantis that eit quyk men, on fut by fortht as i culd found, vallace, +the bruce, ypomedon, the tail of the three futtit dug of norrouay, the +tayl quhou Hercules sleu the serpent hidra that hed vij heydis, the +tail quhou the king of est mure land mareit the kyngis dochtir of vest +mure land, Skail gillenderson the kyngis sone of skellye, the tail of +the four sonnis of aymon, the tail of the brig of the mantribil, the +tail of syr euan, arthour's knycht, rauf col3ear, the seige of +millan, gauen and gollogras, lancelot du lac, Arthour knycht he raid +on nycht vitht gyltin spur and candil lycht, the tail of floremond of +albanye that sleu the dragon be the see, the tail of syr valtir the +bald leslye, the tail of the pure tynt, claryades and maliades, +Arthour of litil bertang3e, robene hude and litil ihone, the +meruellis of mandiueil, the tayl of the 3ong tamlene and of the +bald braband, the ryng of the roy Robert, syr egeir and syr gryme, +beuis of southamtoun, the goldin targe, the paleis of honour, the tayl +quhou acteon vas transformit in ane hart and syne slane be his auen +doggis, the tayl of Pirramus and tesbe, the tail of the amours of +leander and hero, the tail how Iupiter transformit his deir love yo in +ane cou, the tail quhou that iason van the goldin fleice, Opheus kyng +of portingal, the tail of the goldin appil, the tail of the thre veird +systirs, the tail quhou that dedalus maid the laborynth to keip the +monstir minotaurus, the tail quhou kyng midas gat tua asse luggis on +his hede because of his auereis. + + + + +INDEX + + +_Aage_, Danish ballad, related to Helgi and Sigrun, 144; + cf. York Powell, _C.P.B._ i. 502, and _Grimm Centenary Papers_ (1886), p. 47 + +Achilles, 12, 13, 19, 35, 39, 67 + +_Aeneid_, 18, 22, 334, 349 + +Alboin the Lombard (O.E. Ćlfwine, see _Davenant_), 23, 66, 69, 82 n, 189 + +Alexander the Great, in old French poetry, 27; + his _Epistle_; (Anglo-Saxon version), 329 + +_Aliscans, chanson de geste_ of the cycle of William of Orange, 296 + +_Alvíssmál_, in 'Elder Edda,' 112 + +Amadis of Gaul, a formal hero, 175, 203, 222 + +Ammius (O.N. Hamđer): see _Hamđismál_ + +_Andreas_, old English poem on the legend of St. Andrew, 28, 50, 90, 329 + +Andvari, 115 + +_Angantyr_, the _Waking of_, poem in _Hervarar Saga_, 48, 70, 73, 78, +112, 129 n + +_Apollonius of Tyre_, in Anglo-Saxon, 329 + +Ari Thorgilsson, called the Wise (Ari Fróđi, A.D. 1067-1148), + his _Landnámabók_ and _Konunga Ćfi_, 248; + _Ynglinga Saga_, 279 + +Ariosto, 30, 31, 40, 323 + +Aristotle on the dramatic element in epic, 17 _sq._; + his summary of the _Odyssey_, 36, 74, 120, 139, 159 _sq._ + +_Arnaldos, romance del Conde_, Spanish ballad, 327 + +Arni, Bishop of Skalholt (_ob._ 1298), his _Life_ (_Arna Saga_), 268 + +Arni Beiskr (the Bitter), murderer of Snorri Sturluson, his death at +Flugumyri, 263 + +Aron Hjörleifsson (_Arons Saga_), a friend of Bishop Gudmund, 225, 257, +381 _sq._ + +Asbjörnsen, P. Chr., 170 n + +Asdis, Grettir's mother, 216 n + +Askel: see _Reykdćla Saga_ + +_Atlakviđa_, the _Lay of Attila_, 146 _sq._: see _Attila_ + +_Atlamál_, the _Greenland Poem of Attila_, 92, 137, 146-156: see _Attila_ + +_Atli and Rimgerd, Contention of_, in 'Elder Edda,' 113 _sq._ + +Atli in _Grettis Saga_, his dying speech, 218 + in _Hávarđar Saga_, 227 + +Attila (O.E. Ćtla, O.N. Atli), the Hun, adopted as a German hero in +epic tradition, 22; + different views of him in epic, 24; + in _Waltharius_, 84; + in _Waldere_, 86; + in the 'Elder Edda,' 80, 83, 105 _sq._, 110, 137, 149 _sq._ + +_Aucassin et Nicolette_, 312, 327 + +Audoin the Lombard (O.E. Eadwine), father of Alboin, 67 + +_Aymon, Four Sons of_, i.e. _Renaus de Montauban_ (_chanson de geste_), +313, 387 + + +Balder, death of, 43, 78, 112 + +_Bandamanna Saga_, 'The Confederates,' 187, 226, 229-234 + +Beatrice the Duchess, wife of Begon de Belin, mother of Gerin and +Hernaudin, 307 _sq._ + +Begon de Belin, brother of Garin le Loherain, _q.v._ + +Benoit de Sainte More, his _Roman de Troie_, 330 _sq._, 334 + +_Beowulf_, 69, 88 _sq._, 110, 136, 145, 158-175, 290 + and the _Odyssey_, 10 + +_Beowulf_ and the _Hęliand_, 28 + +Bergthora, Njal's wife, 190, 220 _sq._ + +Bernier: see _Raoul de Cambrai_ + +Béroul: see _Tristram_ + +_Bevis, Sir_, 388 + +_Biarkamál_, 78 + +Bjargey: see _Hávarđar Saga_ + +Bjorn, in _Njála_, and his wife, 228-229 + +Blethericus, a Welsh author, 348 + +Boccaccio, his relation to the French Romantic School, and to Chaucer, +363-370 + +Bodvild, 95 + +Boethius _On the Consolation of Philosophy_, a favourite book, 46 + +Bolli, Gudrun's husband (_Laxdćla Saga_), 191, 207, 223, 376 _sq._; + kills Kjartan, 242 + +Bolli the younger, son of Bolli and Gudrun, 223-224 + +Bossu, on the Epic Poem, his opinion of Phaeacia, 32, 40 n + +Bradley, Mr. Henry, on the first Riddle in the _Exeter Book_, 135 +(_Academy_, March 24, 1888, p. 198) + +Bréri, cited by Thomas as his authority for the story of Tristram: +see _Blethericus_ + +Brink, Dr. Bernhard Ten, some time Professor at Strassburg, 145, 290 + +Broceliande visited by Wace, 26, 171 + +_Brunanburh_, poem of the battle of, 76 + +Brynhild, sister of Attila, wife of Gunnar the Niblung, _passim_ + long _Lay of_, in the 'Elder Edda' (_al. Sigurđarkviđa in Skamma_), + 83, 100 _sq._ + _Hell-ride of_, 102 + short _Lay of_ (fragment), 103, 256 + lost poem concerning, paraphrased in _Volsunga Saga_, 71 + Danish ballad of: see _Sivard_ + +Bugge, Dr. Sophus, sometime Professor in Christiania, 77 n, 87 n, 137 n + +_Byrhtnoth_: see _Maldon_ + + +_C.P.B._, i.e. _Corpus Poeticum Boreale_, q.v. + +Campbell, J.F., of Islay, 170 n, 340 + +Casket of whalebone (the Franks casket), in the British Museum, subjects +represented on it, 48; + runic inscriptions, 49 (cf. Napier, in _An English Miscellany_, + Oxford 1901) + +Charles the Great, Roman Emperor (Charlemagne), different views of him +in French Epic, 24; + in _Huon de Bordeaux_ 314 _sq._; + history of, in Norwegian (_Karlamagnus Saga_), 278; + in Spanish (chap-book), 297 n: see _Pčlerinage de Charlemagne_ + +Charlot: see _Huon de Bordeaux_ + +_Charroi de Nismes_, _chanson de geste_ of the cycle of William of +Orange, quoted, 312 + +Chaucer, 328, 332 n; + his relation to the French Romantic School, and to Boccaccio, 363-370 + +Chrestien de Troyes, 323, 344 + his works, + _Tristan_ (lost), 344; + _Erec_ (_Geraint and Enid_), 6, 332, 355 _sq._; + _Conte du Graal_ (_Perceval_), 327; + _Cliges_, 333, 357 _sq._, 387; + _Chevalier de la Charrette_ (_Lancelot_), 341, 357, 387; + _Yvain_ (_Chevalier au Lion_), 352 _sq._, 386 _sq._ + his influence on the author of _Flamenca_, 359 _sq._ + +_Codex Regius_ (2365, 4to), in the King's Library, Copenhagen: see +_Edda, 'the Elder_' + +_Comédie Humaine, la_, 188 + +Connla (the story of the fairy-bride): see _Guingamor_ + +Contract, Social, in Iceland, 59 + +_Coronemenz Looďs_, _chanson de geste_ of the cycle of William of +Orange, quoted, 311 + +_Corpus Poeticum Boreale_, ed. G. Vigfusson and F. York Powell, Oxford, +1883, _passim_ + +Corsolt, a pagan, 311 + +Cressida, in _Roman de Troie_, 330; + the story treated in different ways by Boccaccio and Chaucer, _q.v._ + +Cynewulf, the poet, 51 + +_Cynewulf and Cyneheard_ (English Chronicle, A.D. 755), 5, 82 n + + +Dag, brother of Sigrun, 72 + +Dandie Dinmont, 201 + +Dante, 31; + his reference to William of Orange, 296 + +_Dart, Song of the_ (_Darrađarlióđ_, Gray's 'Fatal Sisters'), 78 + +Davenant, Sir William, on the heroic poem (Preface to _Gondibert_), +quoted, 30; + author of a tragedy, 'Albovine King of the Lombards,' 67 + +_Deor's Lament_, old English poem, 76, 115, 134 + +Drangey, island in Eyjafirth, north of Iceland, Grettir's refuge, 196 + +Dryden and the heroic ideal, 30 + +Du Bartas, 31 + + +_Edda_, a handbook of the Art of Poetry, by Snorri Sturluson, 42, 138, 181 + +'Edda,' 'the Elder,' 'the Poetic,' 'of Sćmund the Wise' (_Codex +Regius_), 77, 93, 156 _passim_ + +Egil the Bowman, Weland's brother, represented on the Franks casket +(Ćgili), 48 + +Egil Skallagrimsson, 192, 215, 220 + +Einar Thorgilsson: see _Sturla of Hvamm_ + +Ekkehard, Dean of St. Gall, author of _Waltharius_, 84 + +_Elene_, by Cynewulf, an old English poem on the legend of St. Helen +(the Invention of the Cross), 50, 90, 329 + +_Eneas, Roman d'_, 386 + +_Enid_: see _Chrestien de Troyes_ + +_Erec_: see _Chrestien de Troyes_ + +Eric the Red, his Saga in Hauk's book, 47 + +Ermanaric (O.E. Eormenríc, O.N. Jörmunrekr), 22; + killed by the brothers of Suanihilda, 66: see _Hamđismál_ + +Erp: see _Hamđismál_ + +_Exodus_, old English poem of, 28, 90 + +Eyjolf Karsson, a friend of Bishop Gudmund, 257, 381, _sq._ + +Eyjolf Thorsteinsson: see _Gizur_ + +_Eyrbyggja Saga_, the story of the men of Eyre, 187 _sq._, 201, 227, 253 + + +_Fćreyinga Saga_, the story of the men of the Faroes (Thrond of Gata +and Sigmund Brestisson), 206, 245 + +Faroese ballads, 181, 283 + +Fielding, Henry, 266 + +_Fierabras_, 388 + +Finn: see _Finnesburh_ + +_Finnesburh_, old English poem (fragment), published by Hickes from a +Lambeth MS., now mislaid, 81 _sq._, 265 + episode in _Beowulf_, giving more of the story, 81 _sq._ + +_Fiölsvinnsmál_ see _Svipdag_ + +_Flamenca_, a Provençal romance, by a follower of Chrestien de Troyes, +in the spirit of Ovid, 359-362; + romances named in, 360, 384-387 + +_Flóamanna Saga_, the story of the people of Floi, 259 + +_Flores et Blanchefleur_, romance, referred to in _Flamenca_, 361; + translated by Boccaccio (_Filocolo_), 364 + +Flosi the Burner, in _Njála_, 218, 219, 190, 191, 219 _sq._ + +Flugumyri, a homestead in Northern Iceland (Skagafjord), Earl Gizur's +house, burned October 1253, the story as given by Sturla, 259-264 + +_Fóstbrćđra Saga_ (the story of the two sworn brethren, Thorgeir and +Thormod) 38 n, 47; + in Hauk's book, 187, 194, 196; + euphuistic interpolations in, 275 _sq._ + +Frey, poem of his wooing of Gerd (_Skirnismál_), in the 'Poetic Edda,' +77, 94, 114 + +_Frithiof the Bold_, a romantic Saga, 247, 277, 280 _sq._ + +Froda (Fróđá), homestead in Olafsvík, near the end of Snćfellsnes, +Western Iceland, a haunted house, _Eyrbyggja Saga_, 208 + +Froda (Frotho in Saxo Grammaticus), his story alluded to in _Beowulf_, +69, 72, 82 n, 163, 373 _sq._ + +Froissart and the courteous ideal, 328 + +Fromont, the adversary in the story of _Garin le Loherain_, _q.v._ + + +Galopin the Prodigal, in the story of _Garin le Loherain_, 310 + +_Gareth_, in Malory's _Morte d'Arthur_, original of the Red Cross +Knight in the _Faery Queene_, 343 + +_Garin le Loherain_ (_chanson de geste_), 53 n, 300-309 + +Gawain killed dragons, 168: see _Walewein_ + +_Gawain and the Green Knight_, alliterative poem, 180 + +_Gay Goshawk_, ballad of the, 357 + +_Genesis_, old English poem of, 90, 136 + +_Geraint_, Welsh story, 355 + +Gerd: see _Frey_ + +_Germania_ of Tacitus, 46 + +_Gísla Saga_, the story of Gisli the Outlaw, 187, 196 _sq._, 207, 225; + its relations to the heroic poetry, 210 + +Giuki (Lat. Gibicho, O.E. Gifica), father of Gunnar, Hogni, Gothorm, +and Gudrun, _q.v._ + +Gizur Thorvaldsson, the earl, at Flugumyri, 258, 259-264 + +Glam (_Grettis Saga_), 172, 196 + +Glum (_Víga-Glúms Saga_), 193 _sq._, 225 + and _Raoul de Cambrai_, 299 + +Gollancz, Mr., 135 (see _Academy_, Dec. 23, 1893, p. 572) + +Gothorm, 101 + +Gray, his translations from the Icelandic, 78, 157 n + +Gregory (St.) the Great, _de Cura Pastorali_, studied in Iceland, 59 + +Grendel, 165: see _Beowulf_ + +_Grettis Saga_, the story of Grettir the Strong, 172, 187, 195 _sq._, +216 n, 218, 226 + +Grimhild, mother of Gudrun, 110 + +_Grimild's Revenge_, Danish ballad (_Grimilds Hćvn_), 105, 149 + +Grimm, 136 n; + story of the _Golden Bird_, 340 + Wilhelm, _Deutsche Heldensage_, 79 + +_Grímnismál_, in 'Elder Edda,' 112 + +Gripir, Prophecy of (_Grípisspá_) in the 'Elder Edda,' a summary of +the Volsung story, 94 + +Groa, wife of Earl Gizur, _q.v._ + +_Grógaldr_: see _Svipdag_ + +_Grottasöngr_ (Song of the Magic Mill), 90 + +Gudmund Arason, Bishop of Hólar, 170, 256, 381 + +Gudmund, son of Granmar: see _Sinfiotli_ + +Gudmund the Mighty (Guđmundr inn Riki), in _Ljósvetninga_ and other +Sagas, 188, 225 + +Gudny, wife of Sturla of Hvamm, _q.v._ + +Gudrun (O.N. Guđrún), daughter of Giuki, sister of Gunnar and Hogni, +wife of Sigurd, 23, 71, 101, 149 _sq._ + and Theodoric, the _Old Lay of Gudrun_ (_Guđrúnarkviđa in forna_), + 103, 109 + _Lay of_ (_Guđrúnarkviđa_), 111 + _Lament of_, or _Chain of Woe_ (_Tregrof Guđrúnar_), 111, 215 + _Ordeal of_, 111 + daughter of Osvifr (_Laxdćla Saga_), 191, 209, 222-224 + +_Guingamor, Lay of_, by Marie de France, 337-340 + +_Guinglain_, romance, by Renaud de Beaujeu: see _Libeaux Desconus_ + +Gundaharius (Gundicarius), the Burgundian (O.E. Gúđhere, O.N. Gunnarr; +Gunther in the _Nibelungenlied_, etc.), 22: see _Gunnar_, _Gunther_ + +Gunnar of Lithend (Hlíđarendi), in _Njáls Saga_, 190; + his death, 214 + +Gunnar, son of Giuki, brother of Gudrun, 101 _sq._, 168 _sq._: see +_Gundaharius_, _Gunther_ + +Gunnlaug the Poet, called Wormtongue, his story (_Gunnlaugs Saga +Ormstungu_), 207, 281 + +Gunther (Guntharius, son of Gibicho) in _Waltharius_, 84 _sq._; + in _Waldere_, 100: see _Gundaharius_, _Gunnar_ + + +Hacon, King of Norway (A.D. 1217-1263): see _Hákonar Saga_; + his taste for French romances, 278 + +Hadubrand, son of Hildebrand, 81 + +Hagen (Hagano), in _Waltharius_, 84 _sq._ + +Hagen, in _Waldere_ (Hagena), 86, 239 + in _Sivard_, _q.v._: see _Hogni_ + +_Hákonar Saga_, the _Life_ of Hacon, Hacon's son, King of Norway (_ob._ +1263), written by Sturla, contrasted with his history of Iceland, 267 +_sq._ + +_Halfs Saga_, 280 + +Hall, son of Earl Gizur, 259 + +Hama, 163 + +_Hamlet_ in Saxo, 70 + +_Hamđismál_ ('Poetic Edda'), Lay of the death of Ermanaric, 66, 70-71, +109, 140 + +Harald, king of Norway (Fairhair), 58; + in _Egils Saga_, 192 + king of Norway (Hardrada), killed dragons, 168; + his Saga referred to (story of Hreidar the Simple), 310; + (Varangian custom), 329 n + +_Harbarzlióđ_: see _Thor_ + +_Harđar Saga ok Holmverja_, the story of Hord and the men of the +island, 212 n + +Hauk's Book, an Icelandic gentleman's select library in the fourteenth +century, 47 _sq._ (_Hauksbók_, ed. Finnur Jónsson, 1892-1896) + +_Hávamál_ in 'Poetic Edda,' a gnomic miscellany, 77 + +_Hávarđar Saga Isfirđings_, the story of Howard of Icefirth, 199, 216 +_sq._, 227 + +Hearne, Thomas, 78 + +Hedin, brother of Helgi, Hiorvard's son, 99 + +_Heiđarvíga Saga_, the story of the battle on the Heath (connected with +_Eyrbyggja Saga_), 209: see _Víga-Styrr_ + +_Heiđreks Saga_: see _Hervarar Saga_ + +_Heimskringla_, Snorri's _Lives of the Kings of Norway_, abridged, 248 + +Helgi and Kara, 98 + +Helgi, Hiorvard's son, and Swava, 97 _sq._, 113 + +Helgi Hundingsbane and Sigrun, 72, 93 n, 95 _sq._, 239 + +_Hęliand_, old Saxon poem on the Gospel history, using the forms of +German heroic poetry, 27, 90, 204 + +Hengest: see _Finnesburh_ + +Heremod, 162 + +Herkja, 111 + +Hermes, in the Homeric hymn, 43 + +_Hervarar Saga ok Heiđreks Konungs_ (_Heiđreks Saga_), one of the +romantic mythical Sagas in Hauk's book, 48; + contains the poems of the cycle of Angantyr, 78, 280 + +Hervor, daughter of Angantyr, 70, 73, 112, 208 + +Heusler, Dr. Andreas, Professor in Berlin, 100 n + +Hialli, 151 + +Hickes, George, D.D., 73 n, 78 + +_Hildebrand, Lay of_, 76, 79, 81, 87 n, 91 + +Hildeburg: see _Finnesburh_ + +Hildegund (Hildegyth), 84 _sq._: see _Walter_ + +Hnćf: see _Finnesburh_ + +Hobs, Mr. (_i.e._ Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury), 31 + +Hodbrodd, in story of Helgi and Sigrun, 72, 96 + +Hogni, father of Sigrun, 72, 96 + +Hogni, son of Giuki, brother of Gunnar, Gothorm, and Gudrun, 101, 151 +_sq._: see _Hagen_ + +Homeric analogies in medieval literature, 9 _sq._ + +Hrafn Sveinbjarnarson, a friend of Bishop Gudmund, 257; + _Hrafns Saga_ quoted, 38 n + +Hrafn: see _Gunnlaug_ + +_Hrafnkels Saga Freysgođa_, the story of Hrafnkel, Frey's Priest, 187, 198 + +Hrefna, Kjartan's wife, 223 + +Hreidar the Simple, an unpromising hero, in _Haralds Saga Harđráđa_, 310 + +Hrolf Kraki (Hrođulf in _Beowulf_), 166, 280 + +_Hromund Greipsson_, Saga of, 99 + +Hrothgar, 10, 166. + +Hunding, 95 + +Hunferth, 10, 166 + +_Huon de Bordeaux_ (_chanson de geste_), epic and romance combined +inartistically in, 37, 53, 314-317 + +Hurd's _Letters on Chivalry and Romance_, 30 + +Hygelac, 161 _sq._: see _Beowulf_ + +_Hymiskviđa_: see _Thor_ + + +Ibsen, Henrik, his _Hćrmćndene paa Helgeland_ (_Warriors in Helgeland_), +a drama founded on the Volsung story, its relation to _Laxdćla Saga_, 209 + his _Kongsemnerne_ (_Rival Kings_, Hacon and Skule), 268 + +_Ider_, romance, 331 _sq._, 347 n + +_Iliad_, 11 _sq._, 18, 38 _sq._, 52, 162 _sq._, 348, 352 n + +Ingeld: see _Froda_ + +Ingibjorg, daughter of Sturla, her wedding at Flugumyri, 259 _sq._ + +_Intelligenza, L'_, 386 n + + +Jehoram, son of Ahab, in the famine of Samaria, 239 + +Johnson, Dr., 9, 244 + +Joinville, Jean de, Seneschal of Champagne, his _Life of St. Louis_ +compared with Icelandic prose history, 269 _sq._ + +Jón Arason the poet, Bishop of Hólar, the last Catholic Bishop in +Iceland, beheaded by Reformers, 7th November 1550, a notable character, +268 + +Jordanes, historian of the Goths, his version of the story of +_Ermanaric_, its relation to _Hamđismál_, 65 + +_Judith_, old English poem of, 28, 29, 90 + +Julian, the Emperor, his opinion of German songs, 65 + + +Kara, 98 _sq._ + +Kari, in _Njála_, 206 + and Bjorn, 228-229 + +Karl Jónsson, Abbot of Thingeyri in Iceland, author of _Sverris Saga_, 249 + +Kjartan, son of Olaf the Peacock (_Laxdćla Saga_), 13, 191, 204, 207, 375 + his death, 240 _sq._ + +_Königskinder, die_, German ballad, 327 + +_Kormaks Saga_, 129 n, 281 + + +_Lancelot_, the French prose romance, 335 + +_Landnámabók_, in Hauk's book, 47 + +Laurence, Bishop of Hólar (_ob._ 1331), his _Life_ (_Laurentius Saga_), 268 + +_Laxdćla Saga_, the story of Laxdale (_the Lovers of the Gudrun_), 185, +190, 240 _sq._, 375; + a new version of the Niblung story, 209 _sq._, 222 _sq._, 281 + +Leconte de Lisle, _L'Epée d'Angantyr_, 73 n + +Lessing's _Laocoon_, 237 + +_Libeaux Desconus_, romance in different versions--French, by Renaud +de Beaujeu (_Guinglain_), 337, 343 _sq._, 387; + English, 337, 343; + Italian (_Carduino_), 337, 343 + +_Ljósvetninga Saga_, story of the House of Ljósavatn, 188 _sq._ + +_Lokasenna_ (the Railing of Loki), 41, 77, 113 + +Longnon, Auguste, 314 n + +Louis IX., king of France (St. Louis): see _Joinville_ + +_Lusiad_, the, a patriotic epic, unlike the poetry of the 'heroic age,' 22 + + +Macrobius, 47, 333 + +_Maldon_, poem of the battle of (A.D. 991), 69, 88, 95 n, 134, 205, 244; + compared with the _Iliad_, 11; + compared with _Roland_, 51, 54 _sq._, 294 + +Malory, Sir Thomas, his _Morte d'Arthur_, 215, 307 + +_Mantrible, Bridge of the_, 388 + +Marie de France, her _Lays_ translated into Norwegian (_Strengleikar_), +278; + _Guingamor_ criticised, 337-340 + +Marino, 31 + +Martianus Capella, _de Nuptiis Philologiae_, studied in the Middle Ages, 47 + +Medea, 334, 347 _sq._ + +_Menglad, Rescue of_, 78, 114: see _Svipdag_ + +Mephistopheles in Thessaly, 10 + +Meyer, Paul, 290 n, 359 n, 386 + +_Milan, Siege of_, 388 + +Mimming, the sword of Weland, 86 + +Morris, William, 205, 282, 334 + +_Mort Arthure_, alliterative poem, 180 + +_Mort Artus_, French prose romance, 335 + +_Morte d'Arthur_: see _Malory_ + + +_Nibelungenlied_, 105, 120, 149, 179 + +Niblung story, its relation to historical fact, 22 _sq._: see _Gunnar_, +_Hogni_, _Gudrun_, _Laxdćla Saga_ + +Nidad, 95 + +Njal, story of (_Njála_), 8, 13, 60, 185, 207, 219-221 + + +Oberon; see _Huon de Bordeaux_ + +Odd, Arrow (Örvar-Oddr), 73 + +Oddrun, sister of Brynhild and Attila, 102 + _Lament of_ (_Oddrúnargrátr_), in the 'Elder Edda,' 103, 107 _sq._, + 151 _sq._ + +Odd Ufeigsson: see _Bandamanna Saga_ + +Odoacer, referred to in _Lay of Hildebrand_, 81 + +Odysseus, 7, 9, 32 _sq._, 35, 71 + +_Odyssey_, the, 10, 163, 171; + Aristotle's summary of, 18; + romance in, 32 _sq._ + +Olaf Tryggvason, king of Norway, 205, 375 _sq._ + +_Olkofra Ţáttr_, the story of Alecap, related to _Bandamanna Saga_, 226 + +Ossian, in the land of youth: see _Guingamor_ + +Ovid in the Middle Ages, 47, 346, 412; +[Transcriber's Note: No page 412 in original.] + _Ovidius Epistolarum_ studied in Iceland, 59 + +Ovid's story of Medea, translated in the _Roman de Troie_, 334 _sq._, +348 _sq._; + _Heroides_ became the 'Saints' Legend of Cupid,' 347 + + +Paris, Gaston, 290, 291, 331, 337, 343, 345, 348 n, 387 + +Paulus Diaconus, heroic stories in the Lombard history, 66 _sq._ + +Peer Gynt, 170 + +_Pčlerinage de Charlemagne_ (_chanson de geste_), 24, 53, 329 + +Percy, Thomas, D.D., _Five Pieces of Runic Poetry_, 73 n, 141 n + +Phaeacia, Odysseus in, Bossu's criticism, 31 + +Pindar, his treatment of myths, 43 + +Poitiers, William IX., Count of, his poem on setting out for the +Crusade, 317 + +Powell, F. York, 66: see _Aage_ + +_Prise d'Orange_, _chanson de geste_ of the cycle of William of Orange, +in substance a romance of adventure, 313 + + +_Queste del St. Graal_, French prose romance, a contrast to the style +of Chrestien de Troyes, 327, 335 + + +Ragnar Lodbrok, his Death-Song (_Krákumál_), 140, 217, 295 + +Rainouart, the gigantic ally of William of Orange, 296, 311; + their names associated by Dante (_Par._ xviii. 46), _ibid._ + +_Raoul de Cambrai_ (_chanson de geste_), 291 n, 298-300, 309 + +Rastignac, Eugčne de, 188 + +_Reykdćla Saga_, the story of Vemund, Askel, and Skuta son of Askel, +connected with the story of Glum, 194, 201 + +Rigaut, son of Hervi the Villain, in the story of _Garin le Loherain_, 310 + +Rimgerd the Giantess: see _Atli_ + +_Rímur_, Icelandic rhyming romances, 181, 283 + +_Roland, Chanson de_, 9, 24, 83, 287, 293-295, 308; + compared with _Byrhtnoth_ (_Maldon_), 54 _sq._; + with an incident in _Njála_, 265 + +_Roman de la Rose_, of Guillaume de Lorris, 345, 348, 352, 359 + +_Rood, Dream of the_, old English poem, 134 + +Rosamund and Alboin in the Lombard history, 23, 67 + +_Rosmunda_, a tragedy, by Rucellai, 67 + +_Rou, Roman de_, the author's visit to Broceliande, 26 + + +Sam (Sámr), Gunnar's dog, 214 + +Sarpedon's address to Glaucus, 9, 11 + +Sarus and Ammius (Sorli and Hamther), brothers of Suanihilda (Jordanes), +66: see _Hamđismál_ + +Saxo Grammaticus, 69, 79, 105, 149, 181, 374 + +_Scotland, Complaynt of_, romances named in, 387-389 + +_Scottish Field_, alliterative poem on Flodden, 179 _sq._ + +Shakespeare, his treatment of popular tales, 36 _sq._ + +_Sibyl's Prophecy_: see _Volospá_ + +Sidney, Sir Philip, 99, 368 + +Sievers, Dr. Eduard, Professor in Leipzig, 136 n, 169 n + +Sigmund Brestisson, in _Fćreyinga Saga_, 206, 245, 283 + +Sigmund, father of Sinfiotli, Helgi, and Sigurd, 95, 110 + +Signild: see _Sivard_ + +Sigrdrifa, 115 + +Sigrun: see _Helgi_ + +Sigurd, the Volsung (O.N. Sigurđr), 22, 71, 100 _sq._, 129, 133 + fragmentary _Lay of_ (_Brot af Sigurđarkviđu_), 103 + _Lay of_: see _Brynhild_ + +Sinfiotli, debate of, and Gudmund, 96 + +_Sivard og Brynild_, Danish ballad, translated, 127-129 + +Skallagrim, how he told the truth to King Harald, 192 + +Skarphedinn, son of Njal, 190, 220 _sq._, 244, 265 + +Skirnir: see _Frey_ + +Skule, Duke, the rival of Hacon, 267 + +Skuta: see _Reykdćla Saga_ + +Snorri Sturluson (A.D. 1178-1241), author of the _Edda_, 42; + and of the _Lives of the Kings of Norway_, 248; + his murder avenged at Flugumyri, 263 + +Snorri the Priest (Snorri Gođi), in _Eyrbyggja_ and other Sagas, 188, +213, 253 + +_Sonatorrek_ (the Sons' Loss), poem by Egil Skallagrimsson, 215 + +Sorli: see _Hamđismál_ + +Spenser, 343 + +Starkad, 166, 374 + +Stephens, George, sometime Professor in Copenhagen, 78 + +Stevenson, R.L., _Catriona_, 170 n + +Sturla of Hvamm (Hvamm-Sturla), founder of the house of the Sturlungs, +his life (_Sturlu Saga_) 253-256 + +Sturla (_c._ A.D. 1214-1284), son of Thord, and grandson of Hvamm-Sturla, +nephew of Snorri, author of _Sturlunga Saga_ (_q.v._) and of _Hákonar +Saga_ (_q.v._) 61, 251, 259 + +_Sturlunga Saga_ (more accurately _Islendinga Saga_), of Sturla, Thord's +son, a history of the author's own times, using the forms of the heroic +Sagas, 61, 246 _sq._, 249 _sq._ + +Suanihilda: see _Swanhild_ + +_Svarfdćla Saga_, the story of the men of Swarfdale (_Svarfađardalr_), 219 + +_Sveidal, Ungen_, Danish ballad, on the story of Svipdag and Menglad, +114, 126 + +Sverre, king of Norway (_ob._ 1202), his _Life_ (_Sverris Saga_) written +by Abbot Karl Jónsson at the king's dictation, 249; + quotes a Volsung poem, 278 + +_Svipdag and Menglad_, old Northern poems of, 78, 114 _sq._: see _Sveidal_ + +Swanhild (O.N. Svanhildr), daughter of Sigurd and Gudrun, her cruel +death; the vengeance on Ermanaric known to Jordanes in the sixth +century, 65: see _Hamđismál_ + + +Tasso, 18, 21; + his critical essays on heroic poetry, 30 + +Tegnér, Esaias, 141; + his _Frithiofs Saga_, 277 + +Tennyson, _Enid_, 355 + +Theodoric (O.N. Ţióđrekr), a hero of Teutonic epic in different +dialects, 22, 81, 87; + fragment of Swedish poem on, inscription on stone at Rök, 78: see + _Gudrun_ + +Thersites, 243 + +Thidrandi, whom the goddesses slew, 208 + +_Ţidreks Saga_ (thirteenth century), a Norwegian compilation from North +German ballads on heroic subjects, 79, 121 + +Thomas: see _Tristram_ + +Thor, in old Northern literature, his Fishing for the World Serpent +(_Hymiskviđa_), 43, 77, 95; + the Winning of the Hammer (_Ţrymskviđa_), 43, 77, 81, 95 + Danish ballad of, 125 + the contention of, and Odin (_Harbarzlióđ_), 77, 113 + +Thorarin, in _Eyrbyggja_, the quiet man, 227 + +Thorgils and Haflidi (_Ţorgils Saga ok Hafliđa_), 226, 238, 252 _sq._ + +Thorkell Hake, in _Ljósvetinga Saga_, 225 + +Thorolf Bćgifot: see _Eyrbyggja_ + +Thorolf, Kveldulf's son: see _Skallagrim_ + +_Ţorsteins Saga Hvíta_, the story of Thorstein the White, points of +resemblance to _Laxdćla_ and _Gunnlaugs Saga_, 281 + +_Ţorsteins Saga Stangarhöggs_ (Thorstein Staffsmitten), a short story, 282 + +Thrond of Gata (_Fćreyinga Saga_), 245 + +_Ţrymskviđa_: see _Thor_ + +Thrytho, 162 + +Thurismund, son of Thurisvend, king of the Gepidae, killed by Alboin, 67 + +_Tirant lo Blanch_ (Tirant the White, Romance of), 38 n; + a moral work, 222 + +Trissino, author of _Italia liberata dai Goti_, a correct epic poem, 30 + +_Tristram and Iseult_, 336, Anglo-Norman poems, by Béroul and Thomas, 344; + of Chrestien (lost), _ibid._ + +Troilus, 368 _sq._ + +_Troy, Destruction of_, alliterative poem, 180 + + +Ufeig: see _Bandamanna Saga_ + +Uistean Mor mac Ghille Phadrig, 170 + +Uspak: see _Bandamanna Saga_ + + +_Vafţrúđnismál_, mythological poem in 'Elder Edda,' 77, 112, 115 + +Vali: see _Bandamanna Saga_ + +_Vápnfirđinga Saga_, the story of Vopnafjord, 193, 226 + +_Vatnsdćla Saga_, story of the House of Vatnsdal, 189 + +Vemund: see _Reykdćla Saga_ + +_Vergi, la Chastelaine de_, a short tragic story, 362 _sq._ + +_Víga-Glúms Saga_, 193: see _Glum_ + +Víga-Styrr: see _Heiđarvíga Saga_ + + _N.B._--The story referred to in the text is preserved in + Jón Olafsson's recollection of the leaves of the MS. which + were lost in the fire of 1728 (_Islendinga Sögur_, 1847, ii. + p. 296). It is not given in Mr. William Morris's translation + of the extant portion of the Saga, appended to his + _Eyrbyggja_. + +Vigfusson, Gudbrand, 77, 280 n, 283 n + +_Viglund, Story of_, a romantic Saga, 278 _sq._ + +Villehardouin, a contemporary of Snorri, 269 + +_Volospá_ (the Sibyl's Song of the Doom of the Gods), in the 'Poetic +Edda,' 43, 77, 139; + another copy in Hauk's book, 47, 93 + +_Volsunga Saga_, a prose paraphrase of old Northern poems, 71, 77, 79, 280 + +_Volsungs, Old Lay of the_, 96 + + +_Wade, Song of_, fragment recently discovered, 180 (see _Academy_, Feb. +15, 1896) + +_Waldere_, old English poem (fragment), 78, 86 _sq._, 116, 163: see +_Walter of Aquitaine_ + +_Walewein, Roman van_, Dutch romance of Sir Gawain; the plot compared +with the Gaelic story of Mac Iain Direach, 337, 340-343 + +Walter of Aquitaine, 5, 78, 84 _sq._, 206 + +_Waltharius_, Latin poem by Ekkehard, on the story of Walter of +Aquitaine, _q.v._ + +_Wanderer, the_, old English poem, 134 + +Ward, H.L.D., his Catalogue of MS. Romances in the British Museum, 282 + +Wealhtheo, 166 + +_Weland_, 338 + represented on the Franks casket in the British Museum, 48 + mentioned in _Waldere_, 87, 163 + _Lay of_, in 'Poetic Edda,' 77, 94 + +_Well at the World's End_, 387 + +Widia, Weland's son, 87, 163 + +_Widsith_ (the Traveller's Song), old English poem, 76, 115, 134 + +Wiglaf, the 'loyal servitor' in _Beowulf_, 166 + +William of Orange, old French epic hero, 296: see _Coronemenz Looďs_, +_Charroi de Nismes_, _Prise d'Orange_, _Aliscans_, _Rainouart_; cf. J. +Bédier, _Les Légendes épiques_ (1908) + + + + +Printed in Great Britain by R. & R. 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Ker</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + + .blockquot{margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .small {font-size: 75%;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .footnotes {border: none;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {font-weight: bold; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .notes {background-color: #eeeeee; color: #000; padding: .5em; + margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 75%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Epic and Romance, by W. P. Ker</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Epic and Romance</p> +<p> Essays on Medieval Literature</p> +<p>Author: W. P. Ker</p> +<p>Release Date: January 20, 2007 [eBook #20406]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EPIC AND ROMANCE***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Ted Garvin, Linda Cantoni,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net/c/)</h3> +<p> </p> +<div class="notes"> + +<p style="text-align: center"><b>Transcriber's Notes:</b></p> + +<p>This e-text employs some Anglo-Saxon characters, such as the eth (Đ or đ, +equivalent of "th") and the thorn (Ţ or ţ, also equivalent of "th"). These +characters should display properly in most browsers. The Anglo-Saxon yogh +(equivalent of "y," "g," or "gh") will display properly only if the user has the +proper font. A mouse-over pop-up transliteration has been provided for words +containing a yogh, e.g., <span title="yong">Ȝong</span>.</p> + +<p>This e-text also contains passages in ancient Greek. In the original text, some of the Greek +characters have diacritical marks that may not display properly in some browsers, +depending on the available fonts. In order to make this e-text as +accessible as possible, the diacritical marks have been omitted. Short phrases in Greek have a mouse-hover transliteration, +e.g., <span title="Greek: kalos">καλος</span>. Longer +passages have the transliteration immediately following.</p> +</div> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h1>EPIC AND ROMANCE</h1> + +<h2>ESSAYS ON MEDIEVAL LITERATURE</h2> + + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>W. P. KER</h2> + +<p style="text-align: center"> +FELLOW OF ALL SOULS COLLEGE, OXFORD<br /> +PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE IN UNIVERSITY COLLEGE<br /> +LONDON</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p style="text-align: center"> +<b><a href="#CONTENTS">Contents</a></b></p> + +<hr style="width: 35%;" /> + +<p style="text-align: center"> +MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED<br /> +ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON<br /> +1931<br /> +<br /> +<span class="small">COPYRIGHT</span><br /> +<span class="small"><i>First Edition (8vo)</i> 1896</span><br /> +<span class="small"><i>Second Edition (Eversley Series)</i> 1908</span><br /> +<span class="small"><i>Reprinted (Crown 8vo)</i> 1922, 1926, 1931</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="small">PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN</span><br /> +<span class="small">BY R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, EDINBURGH</span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">These</span> essays are intended as a general description of some of the +principal forms of narrative literature in the Middle Ages, and as a +review of some of the more interesting works in each period. It is +hardly necessary to say that the conclusion is one "in which nothing +is concluded," and that whole tracts of literature have been barely +touched on—the English metrical romances, the Middle High German +poems, the ballads, Northern and Southern—which would require to be +considered in any systematic treatment of this part of history.</p> + +<p>Many serious difficulties have been evaded (in <i>Finnesburh</i>, more +particularly), and many things have been taken for granted, too +easily. My apology must be that there seemed to be certain results +available for criticism, apart from the more strict and scientific +procedure which is required to solve the more difficult problems of +<i>Beowulf</i>, or of the old Northern or the old French poetry. It is +hoped that something may be gained by a less minute and exacting +consideration of the whole field, and by an attempt to bring the more +distant and dissociated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> parts of the subject into relation with one +another, in one view.</p> + +<p>Some of these notes have been already used, in a course of three +lectures at the Royal Institution, in March 1892, on "the Progress of +Romance in the Middle Ages," and in lectures given at University +College and elsewhere. The plot of the Dutch romance of <i>Walewein</i> was +discussed in a paper submitted to the Folk-Lore Society two years ago, +and published in the journal of the Society (<i>Folk-Lore</i>, vol. v. p. +121).</p> + +<p>I am greatly indebted to my friend Mr. Paget Toynbee for his help in +reading the proofs.</p> + +<p>I cannot put out on this venture without acknowledgment of my +obligation to two scholars, who have had nothing to do with my +employment of all that I have borrowed from them, the Oxford editors +of the Old Northern Poetry, Dr. Gudbrand Vigfusson and Mr. York +Powell. I have still to learn what Mr. York Powell thinks of these +discourses. What Gudbrand Vigfusson would have thought I cannot guess, +but I am glad to remember the wise goodwill which he was always ready +to give, with so much else from the resources of his learning and his +judgment, to those who applied to him for advice.</p> + +<p style="text-align: right">W. P. KER.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">London</span>, <i>4th November 1896</i>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p> +<h2>POSTSCRIPT</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">This</span> book is now reprinted without addition or change, except in a few +small details. If it had to be written over again, many things, no +doubt, would be expressed in a different way. For example, after some +time happily spent in reading the Danish and other ballads, I am +inclined to make rather less of the interval between the ballads and +the earlier heroic poems, and I have learned (especially from Dr. Axel +Olrik) that the Danish ballads do not belong originally to simple +rustic people, but to the Danish gentry in the Middle Ages. Also the +comparison of Sturla's Icelandic and Norwegian histories, though it +still seems to me right in the main, is driven a little too far; it +hardly does enough justice to the beauty of the <i>Life of Hacon</i> +(<i>Hákonar Saga</i>), especially in the part dealing with the rivalry of +the King and his father-in-law Duke Skule. The critical problems with +regard to the writings of Sturla are more difficult than I imagined, +and I am glad to have this opportunity of referring, with admiration, +to the work of my friend Dr. Björn Magnússon Olsen on the <i>Sturlunga +Saga</i> (in <i>Safn til Sögu Islands</i>, iii. pp. 193-510, Copen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span>hagen, +1897). Though I am unable to go further into that debatable ground, I +must not pass over Dr. Olsen's argument showing that the life of the +original Sturla of Hvamm (<i>v. inf.</i> pp. <a href="#Page_253">253</a>-256) was written by Snorri +himself; the story of the alarm and pursuit (<a href="#Page_255">p. 255</a>) came from the +recollections of Gudny, Snorri's mother.</p> + +<p>In the <i>Chansons de Geste</i> a great discovery has been made since my +essay was written; the <i>Chançun de Willame</i>, an earlier and ruder +version of the epic of <i>Aliscans</i>, has been printed by the unknown +possessor of the manuscript, and generously given to a number of +students who have good reason to be grateful to him for his +liberality. There are some notes on the poem in <i>Romania</i> (vols. +xxxii. and xxxiv.) by M. Paul Meyer and Mr. Raymond Weeks, and it has +been used by Mr. Andrew Lang in illustration of Homer and his age. It +is the sort of thing that the Greeks willingly let die; a rough +draught of an epic poem, in many ways more barbarous than the other +extant <i>chansons de geste</i>, but full of vigour, and notable (like <i>le +Roi Gormond</i>, another of the older epics) for its refrain and other +lyrical passages, very like the manner of the ballads. The <i>Chançun de +Willame</i>, it may be observed, is not very different from <i>Aliscans</i> +with regard to Rainouart, the humorous gigantic helper of William of +Orange. One would not have been surprised if it had been otherwise, if +Rainouart had been first introduced by the later composer, with a view +to "comic relief" or some such additional variety for his tale. But it +is not so; Rainouart, it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span> appears, has a good right to his place by +the side of William. The grotesque element in French epic is found +very early, <i>e.g.</i> in the <i>Pilgrimage of Charlemagne</i>, and is not to +be reckoned among the signs of decadence.</p> + +<p>There ought to be a reference, on <a href="#Page_298">p. 298</a> below, to M. Joseph Bédier's +papers in the <i>Revue Historique</i> (xcv. and xcvii.) on <i>Raoul de +Cambrai</i>. M. Bédier's <i>Légendes épiques</i>, not yet published at this +time of writing, will soon be in the hands of his expectant readers.</p> + +<p>I am deeply indebted to many friends—first of all to York Powell—for +innumerable good things spoken and written about these studies. My +reviewers, in spite of all differences of opinion, have put me under +strong obligations to them for their fairness and consideration. +Particularly, I have to offer my most sincere acknowledgments to Dr. +Andreas Heusler of Berlin for the honour he has done my book in his +<i>Lied und Epos</i> (1905), and not less for the help that he has given, +in this and other of his writings, towards the better understanding of +the old poems and their history.</p> + +<p style="text-align: right">W. P. K.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Oxford</span>, <i>25th Jan. 1908</i>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + +<p> </p> + +<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a></h3> + +<h3>INTRODUCTION</h3> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#I.I">The Heroic Age</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td> </td><td style="text-align: right">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td>Epic and Romance: the two great orders of medieval narrative</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Epic</i>, of the "heroic age," preceding <i>Romance</i> of the "age of chivalry"</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_4">4</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The heroic age represented in three kinds of literature—Teutonic Epic, French Epic, and the Icelandic Sagas</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Conditions of Life in an "heroic age"</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Homer and the Northern poets</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Homeric passages in <i>Beowulf</i><br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">and in the <i>Song of Maldon</i></span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_10">10</a><br /><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Progress of poetry in the heroic age</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Growth of Epic, distinct in character, but generally incomplete, among the Teutonic nations</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#I.II">Epic and Romance</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>The complex nature of Epic</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>No kind or aspect of life that may not be included</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>This freedom due to the dramatic quality of true (<i>e.g.</i> Homeric) Epic <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</a></span><br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">as explained by Aristotle</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_17">17</a><br /><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Epic does not require a magnificent ideal subject<br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">such as those of the artificial epic (<i>Aeneid</i>, <i>Gerusalemme Liberata</i>, <i>Paradise Lost</i>)</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_18">18</a><br /><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The <i>Iliad</i> unlike these poems in its treatment of "ideal" motives (patriotism, etc.)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>True Epic begins with a dramatic plot and characters</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_20">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Epic of the Northern heroic age is sound in its dramatic conception<br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">and does not depend on impersonal ideals (with exceptions, in the <i>Chansons de geste</i>)</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_20">20</a><br /><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The German heroes in history and epic (Ermanaric, Attila, Theodoric)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Relations of Epic to historical fact</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The epic poet is free in the conduct of his story<br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">but his story and personages must belong to his own people</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_23">23</a><br /><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Nature of Epic brought out by contrast with secondary narrative poems, where the subject is not national</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>This secondary kind of poem may be excellent, but is always different in character from native Epic</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Disputes of academic critics about the "Epic Poem"</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Tasso's defence of Romance. Pedantic attempts to restrict the compass of Epic</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Bossu on Phaeacia</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Epic, as the most comprehensive kind of poetry, includes Romance as one of its elements<br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">but needs a strong dramatic imagination to keep Romance under control</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_32">32</a><br /><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#I.III">Romantic Mythology</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>Mythology not required in the greatest scenes in Homer</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Myths and popular fancies may be a hindrance to the epic poet, but he is compelled to make some use of them</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>He criticises and selects, and allows the characters of the gods <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</a></span>to be modified in relation to the human characters</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Early humanism and reflexion on myth—two processes: (1) rejection of the grosser myths; (2) refinement of myth<br />through poetry</td><td style="text-align: right"> <br /><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Two ways of refining myth in poetry—(1) by turning it into mere fancy, and the more ludicrous things into comedy;<br />(2) by finding an imaginative or an ethical meaning in it</td><td style="text-align: right"> <br /><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Instances in Icelandic literature—<i>Lokasenna</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Snorri Sturluson, his ironical method in the <i>Edda</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The old gods rescued from clerical persecution</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Imaginative treatment of the graver myths—the death of Balder; the Doom of the Gods</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Difficulties in the attainment of poetical self-command</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Medieval confusion and distraction</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Premature "culture"</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Depreciation of native work in comparison with ancient literature and with theology</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>An Icelandic gentleman's library</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The whalebone casket</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Epic not wholly stifled by "useful knowledge"</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#I.IV">The Three Schools—Teutonic Epic—French Epic—The +Icelandic Histories</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>Early failure of Epic among the Continental Germans</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Old English Epic invaded by Romance (Lives of Saints, etc.)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Old Northern (Icelandic) poetry full of romantic mythology</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>French Epic and Romance contrasted</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Feudalism in the old French Epic (<i>Chansons de Geste</i>) not unlike the prefeudal "heroic age"</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>But the <i>Chansons de Geste</i> are in many ways "romantic"</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Comparison of the English <i>Song of Byrhtnoth</i> (<i>Maldon</i>, <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 991) with the <i>Chanson de Roland</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Severity and restraint of <i>Byrhtnoth</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Mystery and pathos of <i>Roland</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Iceland and the German heroic age</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Icelandic paradox—old-fashioned politics together with <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[Pg xiv]</a></span>clear understanding</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Icelandic prose literature—its subject, the anarchy of the heroic age; its methods, clear and positive</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Icelandic histories, in prose, complete the development of the early Teutonic Epic poetry</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p> </p> + +<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a></h3> + +<h3>THE TEUTONIC EPIC</h3> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#II.I">The Tragic Conception</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>Early German poetry</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>One of the first things certain about it is that it knew the meaning of tragic situations</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The <i>Death of Ermanaric</i> in Jordanes</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The story of <i>Alboin</i> in Paulus Diaconus</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Tragic plots in the extant poems</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The <i>Death of Ermanaric</i> in the "Poetic Edda" (<i>Hamðismál</i>)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Some of the Northern poems show the tragic conception modified by romantic motives, yet without loss of the tragic<br />purport—<i>Helgi and Sigrun</i></td><td style="text-align: right"> <br /><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Similar harmony of motives in the <i>Waking of Angantyr</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Whatever may be wanting, the heroic poetry had no want of tragic plots—the "fables" are sound</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Value of the abstract plot (Aristotle)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#II.II">Scale of the Poems</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>List of extant poems and fragments in one or other of the older Teutonic languages (German, English, and Northern) in<br />unrhymed alliterative verse</td><td style="text-align: right"> <br /><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Small amount of the extant poetry</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Supplemented in various ways</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[Pg xv]</a></span>1. <span class="smcap">The Western Group</span> (German and English)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Amount of story contained in the several poems, and scale of treatment</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Hildebrand</i>, a short story</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Finnesburh</i>, (1) the Lambeth fragment (Hickes); and (2) the abstract of the story in <i>Beowulf</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Finnesburh</i>, a story of (1) wrong and (2) vengeance, like the story of the death of Attila, or of the betrayal of Roland</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Uncertainty as to the compass of the <i>Finnesburh</i> poem (Lambeth) in its original complete form</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Waldere</i>, two fragments: the story of Walter of Aquitaine preserved in the Latin <i>Waltharius</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Plot of <i>Waltharius</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Place of the <i>Waldere</i> fragments in the story, and probable compass of the whole poem</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Scale of <i>Maldon</i><br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">and of <i>Beowulf</i></span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_88">88</a><br /><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>General resemblance in the themes of these poems—unity of action</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Development of style, and not neglect of unity nor multiplication of contents, accounts for the difference of length between<br />earlier and later poems</td><td style="text-align: right"> <br /><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Progress of Epic in England—unlike the history of Icelandic poetry</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>2. <span class="smcap">The Northern Group</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The contents of the so-called "Elder Edda" (<i>i.e.</i> <i>Codex Regius</i> 2365, 4to <i>Havn</i>.)<br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">to what extent <i>Epic</i></span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_93">93</a><br /><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Notes on the contents of the poems, to show their scale; the <i>Lay of Weland</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Different plan in the <i>Lays of Thor</i>, <i>Þrymskviða</i> and <i>Hymiskviða</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The <i>Helgi</i> Poems—complications of the text</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Three separate stories—<i>Helgi Hundingsbane and Sigrun</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Helgi Hiorvardsson and Swava</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Helgi and Kara</i> (lost)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The story of the Volsungs—the long <i>Lay of Brynhild</i><br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">contains the whole story in abstract</span><br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">giving the chief place to the character of <i>Brynhild</i></span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_100">100</a><br /><a href="#Page_100">100</a><br /><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The <i>Hell-ride of Brynhild</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvi" id="Page_xvi">[Pg xvi]</a></span>The fragmentary <i>Lay of Brynhild</i> (<i>Brot af Sigurðarkviðu</i>)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_103">103</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Poems on the death of Attila—the <i>Lay of Attila</i> (<i>Atlakviða</i>), and the Greenland <i>Poem of Attila</i> (<i>Atlamál</i>)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Proportions of the story</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_105">105</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>A third version of the story in the <i>Lament of Oddrun</i> (<i>Oddrúnargrátr</i>)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The <i>Death of Ermanaric</i> (<i>Hamðismál</i>)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Northern idylls of the heroines (Oddrun, Gudrun)—the <i>Old Lay of Gudrun</i>, or Gudrun's story to Theodoric</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_109">109</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The <i>Lay of Gudrun</i> (<i>Guðrúnarkviða</i>)—Gudrun's sorrow for Sigurd</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The refrain</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Gudrun's <i>Chain of Woe</i> (<i>Tregrof Guðrúnar</i>)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The <i>Ordeal of Gudrun</i>, an episodic lay</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Poems in dialogue, without narrative—<br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">(1) Dialogues in the common epic measure—<i>Balder's Doom</i>, Dialogues of <i>Sigurd</i>, <i>Angantyr</i>—explanations</span><br /><span style="margin-left: 2em">in prose, between the dialogues</span><br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">(2) Dialogues in the gnomic or elegiac measure:</span><br /><span style="margin-left: 2em">(<i>a</i>) vituperative debates—<i>Lokasenna</i>, <i>Harbarzlióð</i> (in irregular verse), <i>Atli and Rimgerd</i></span><br /><span style="margin-left: 2em;">(<i>b</i>) Dialogues implying action—<i>The Wooing of Frey</i> (<i>Skírnismál</i>)</span></td><td style="text-align: right"> <br /> <br /><a href="#Page_112">112</a><br /> <br /><a href="#Page_112">112</a><br /><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Svipdag and Menglad</i> (<i>Grógaldr</i>, <i>Fiölsvinnsmál</i>)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The <i>Volsung</i> dialogues</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Western and Northern poems compared, with respect to their scale</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The old English poems (<i>Beowulf</i>, <i>Waldere</i>), in scale, midway between the Northern poems and Homer</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Many of the Teutonic epic remains may look like the "short lays" of the agglutinative epic theory; but this is illusion</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Two kinds of story in Teutonic Epic—(1) episodic, <i>i.e.</i> representing a single action (<i>Hildebrand</i>, etc.);<br />(2) summary, <i>i.e.</i> giving the whole of a long story in abstract, with details of one part of it (<i>Weland</i>, etc.)</td><td style="text-align: right"> <br /><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The second class is unfit for agglutination</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_119">119</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Also the first, when it is looked into</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Teutonic Lays are too individual to be conveniently <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">[Pg xvii]</a></span>fused into larger masses of narrative</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#II.III">Epic and Ballad Poetry</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>Many of the old epic lays are on the scale of popular ballads</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Their style is different</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_124">124</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>As may be proved where later ballads have taken up the epic subjects</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Danish ballads of <i>Ungen Sveidal</i> (<i>Svipdag and Menglad</i>)<br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">and of <i>Sivard</i> (<i>Sigurd and Brynhild</i>)</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_126">126</a><br /><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The early epic poetry, unlike the ballads, was ambitious and capable of progress</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#II.IV">The Style of the Poems</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>Rhetorical art of the alliterative verse</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_133">133</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>English and Norse</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Different besetting temptations in England and the North</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>English tameness; Norse emphasis and false wit (the Scaldic poetry)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Narrative poetry undeveloped in the North; unable to compete with the lyrical forms</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Lyrical element in Norse narrative</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Volospá</i>, the greatest of all the Northern poems</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_139">139</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>False heroics; <i>Krákumál</i> (<i>Death-Song of Ragnar Lodbrok</i>)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_140">140</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>A fresh start, in prose, with no rhetorical encumbrances</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>V</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#II.V">The Progress of Epic</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>Various renderings of the same story due (1) to accidents of tradition and impersonal causes; (2) to calculation and<br />selection of motives by poets, and intentional modification of traditional matter</td><td style="text-align: right"> <br /><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The three versions of the death of Gunnar and Hogni compared—<i>Atlakviða</i>, <i>Atlamál</i>, <i>Oddrúnargrátr</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Agreement of the three poems in ignoring the German theory <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">[Pg xviii]</a></span>of Kriemhild's revenge</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The incidents of the death of Hogni clear in <i>Atlakviða</i>, apparently confused and ill recollected in the other two poems</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>But it turns out that these two poems had each a view of its own which made it impossible to use the original story</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Atlamál</i>, the work of a critical author, making his selection of incidents from heroic tradition<br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">the largest epic work in Northern poetry, and the last of its school</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_153">153</a><br /><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The "Poetic Edda," a collection of deliberate experiments in poetry and not of casual popular variants</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_156">156</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<h3><i><span class="smcap"><a href="#II.VI">Beowulf</a></span></i></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td><i>Beowulf</i> claims to be a single complete work</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_158">158</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Want of unity: a story and a sequel</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>More unity in <i>Beowulf</i> than in some Greek epics. The first 2200 lines form a complete story, not ill composed</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Homeric method of episodes and allusions in <i>Beowulf</i><br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">and <i>Waldere</i></span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_162">162</a><br /><a href="#Page_163">163</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Triviality of the main plot in both parts of <i>Beowulf</i>—tragic significance in some of the allusions</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The characters in <i>Beowulf</i> abstract types</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The adventures and sentiments commonplace, especially in the fight with the dragon</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_168">168</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Adventure of Grendel not pure fantasy</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Grendel's mother more romantic</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Beowulf</i> is able to give epic dignity to a commonplace set of romantic adventures</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p> </p> + +<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a></h3> + +<h3>THE ICELANDIC SAGAS</h3> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#III.I">Iceland and the Heroic Age</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>The close of Teutonic Epic—in Germany the old forms were <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xix" id="Page_xix">[Pg xix]</a></span>lost, but not the old stories, in the later Middle Ages</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_179">179</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>England kept the alliterative verse through the Middle Ages</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heroic themes in Danish ballads, and elsewhere</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_181">181</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Place of Iceland in the heroic tradition—a new heroic literature in prose</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_182">182</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>II</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#III.II">Matter and Form</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>The Sagas are not pure fiction</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Difficulty of giving form to genealogical details</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Miscellaneous incidents</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_186">186</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Literary value of the historical basis—the characters well known and recognisable</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_187">187</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The coherent Sagas—the tragic motive</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Plan of <i>Njála</i><br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">of <i>Laxdæla</i></span><br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">of <i>Egils Saga</i></span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_190">190</a><br /><a href="#Page_191">191</a><br /><a href="#Page_192">192</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Vápnfirðinga Saga</i>, a story of two generations</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Víga-Glúms Saga</i>, a biography without tragedy</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Reykdæla Saga</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Grettis Saga</i> and <i>Gísla Saga</i> clearly worked out</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_195">195</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Passages of romance in these histories</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_196">196</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Hrafnkels Saga Freysgoða</i>, a tragic idyll, well proportioned</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Great differences of scale among the Sagas—analogies with the heroic poems</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>III</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#III.III">The Heroic Ideal</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>Unheroic matters of fact in the Sagas</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_200">200</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heroic characters</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_201">201</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Heroic rhetoric</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Danger of exaggeration—Kjartan in <i>Laxdæla</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_204">204</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xx" id="Page_xx">[Pg xx]</a></span>The heroic ideal not made too explicit or formal</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#III.IV">Tragic Imagination</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>Tragic contradictions in the Sagas—<i>Gisli</i>, <i>Njal</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_207">207</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Fantasy</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_208">208</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Laxdæla</i>, a reduction of the story of Sigurd and Brynhild to the terms of common life</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_209">209</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Compare Ibsen's <i>Warriors in Helgeland</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_209">209</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Sagas are a late stage in the progress of heroic literature</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_210">210</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Northern rationalism</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_212">212</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Self-restraint and irony</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_213">213</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The elegiac mood infrequent</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The story of Howard of Icefirth—ironical pathos</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The conventional Viking</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The harmonies of <i>Njála</i><br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">and of <i>Laxdæla</i></span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_219">219</a><br /><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The two speeches of Gudrun</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_223">223</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>V</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#III.V">Comedy</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>The Sagas not bound by solemn conventions</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_225">225</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Comic humours</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_226">226</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Bjorn and his wife in <i>Njála</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Bandamanna Saga</i>: "The Confederates," a comedy</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_229">229</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Satirical criticism of the "heroic age"</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Tragic incidents in <i>Bandamanna Saga</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_233">233</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Neither the comedy nor tragedy of the Sagas is monotonous or abstract</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#III.VI">The Art of Narrative</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>Organic unity of the best Sagas</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_235">235</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Method of representing occurrences as they appear at the time</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_236">236</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxi" id="Page_xxi">[Pg xxi]</a></span>Instance from <i>Þorgils Saga</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_238">238</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Another method—the death of Kjartan as it appeared to a churl</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Psychology (not analytical)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_244">244</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Impartiality—justice to the hero's adversaries (<i>Færeyinga Saga</i>)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_245">245</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>VII</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#III.VII">Epic and History</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>Form of Saga used for contemporary history in the thirteenth century</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_246">246</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The historians, Ari (1067-1148) and Snorri (1178-1241)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The <i>Life of King Sverre</i>, by Abbot Karl Jónsson</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_249">249</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Sturla (<i>c.</i> 1214-1284), his history of Iceland in his own time (<i>Islendinga</i> or <i>Sturlunga Saga</i>)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_249">249</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The matter ready to his hand</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_250">250</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Biographies incorporated in <i>Sturlunga</i>: Thorgils and Haflidi</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_252">252</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Sturlu Saga</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_253">253</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The midnight raid (<span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1171)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_254">254</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Lives of Bishop Gudmund, Hrafn, and Aron</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_256">256</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Sturla's own work (<i>Islendinga Saga</i>)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The burning of Flugumyri</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_259">259</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Traces of the heroic manner</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_264">264</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The character of this history brought out by contrast with Sturla's other work, the <i>Life of King Hacon of Norway</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_267">267</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Norwegian and Icelandic politics in the thirteenth century</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_267">267</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Norway more fortunate than Iceland—the history less interesting</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_267">267</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Sturla and Joinville contemporaries</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_269">269</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Their methods of narrative compared</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_270">270</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<h3>VIII</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a href="#III.VIII">The Northern Prose Romances</a></span></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>Romantic interpolations in the Sagas—the ornamental version of <i>Fóstbræðra Saga</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_275">275</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The secondary romantic Sagas—<i>Frithiof</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_277">277</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>French romance imported (<i>Strengleikar</i>, <i>Tristram's Saga</i>, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxii" id="Page_xxii">[Pg xxii]</a></span>etc.)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_278">278</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Romantic Sagas made out of heroic poems (<i>Volsunga Saga</i>, etc.)<br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">and out of authentic Sagas by repetition of common forms and motives</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_279">279</a><br /><a href="#Page_280">280</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Romantic conventions in the original Sagas</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_280">280</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Laxdæla</i> and <i>Gunnlaug's Saga</i>—<i>Thorstein the White</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_281">281</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Thorstein Staffsmitten</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_282">282</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Sagas turned into rhyming romances (<i>Rímur</i>)<br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">and into ballads in the Faroes</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_283">283</a><br /><a href="#Page_284">284</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p> </p> + +<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a></h3> + +<h3>THE OLD FRENCH EPIC</h3> + +<h3>(<span class="smcap"><i>Chansons de Geste</i></span>)</h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>Lateness of the extant versions</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Competition of Epic and Romance in the twelfth century</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_288">288</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Widespread influence of the <i>Chansons de geste</i>—a contrast to the Sagas</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_289">289</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Narrative style</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_290">290</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>No obscurities of diction</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_291">291</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The "heroic age" imperfectly represented<br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">but not ignored</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_292">292</a><br /><a href="#Page_293">293</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Roland</i>—heroic idealism—France and Christendom</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_293">293</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>William of Orange—<i>Aliscans</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_296">296</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Rainouart—exaggeration of heroism</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_296">296</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Another class of stories in the <i>Chansons de geste</i>, more like the Sagas</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_297">297</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Raoul de Cambrai</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_298">298</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Barbarism of style</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_299">299</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Garin le Loherain</i>—style clarified</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_300">300</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Problems of character—Fromont</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_301">301</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The story of the death of Begon<br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">unlike contemporary work of the Romantic School</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_302">302</a><br /><a href="#Page_304">304</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The lament for Begon</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_307">307</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Raoul</i> and <i>Garin</i> contrasted with <i>Roland</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_308">308</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Comedy in French Epic—"humours" in <i>Garin</i> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxiii" id="Page_xxiii">[Pg xxiii]</a></span><br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">in the <i>Coronemenz Looïs</i>, etc.</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_310">310</a><br /><a href="#Page_311">311</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Romantic additions to heroic cycles—<i>la Prise d'Orange</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_313">313</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Huon de Bordeaux</i>—the original story grave and tragic<br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">converted to Romance</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_314">314</a><br /><a href="#Page_314">314</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p> </p> + +<h3><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a></h3> + +<h3>ROMANCE AND THE OLD FRENCH ROMANTIC SCHOOLS</h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>Romance an element in Epic and Tragedy apart from all "romantic schools"</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_321">321</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The literary movements of the twelfth century</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_322">322</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>A new beginning</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_323">323</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Romantic School unromantic in its methods</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_324">324</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Professional Romance</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_325">325</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Characteristics of the school—courteous sentiment</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_328">328</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Decorative passages—descriptions—pedantry</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_329">329</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Instances from <i>Roman de Troie</i><br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">and from <i>Ider</i>, etc.</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_330">330</a><br /><a href="#Page_331">331</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Romantic adventures—the "matter of Rome" and the "matter of Britain"</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_334">334</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Blending of classical and Celtic influences—<i>e.g.</i> in Benoit's <i>Medea</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_334">334</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Methods of narrative—simple, as in the <i>Lay of Guingamor</i>; overloaded, as in <i>Walewein</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_337">337</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Guingamor</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_338">338</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Walewein</i>, a popular tale disguised as a chivalrous romance</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_340">340</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The different versions of <i>Libeaux Desconus</i>—one of them is sophisticated</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_343">343</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Tristram</i>—the Anglo-Norman poems comparatively simple and ingenuous</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_344">344</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>French Romance and Provençal Lyric</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_345">345</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Ovid in the Middle Ages—the <i>Art of Love</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_346">346</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Heroines</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_347">347</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Benoit's <i>Medea</i> again</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_348">348</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Chrestien of Troyes, his place at the beginning of modern literature</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_349">349</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxiv" id="Page_xxiv">[Pg xxiv]</a></span>'Enlightenment' in the Romantic School</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_350">350</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The sophists of Romance—the rhetoric of sentiment and passion</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_351">351</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The progress of Romance from medieval to modern literature</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_352">352</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Chrestien of Troyes, his inconsistencies—nature and convention</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_352">352</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Departure from conventional romance; Chrestien's <i>Enid</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_355">355</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Chrestien's <i>Cliges</i>—"sensibility"</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_357">357</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Flamenca</i>, a Provençal story of the thirteenth century—the author a follower of Chrestien</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_359">359</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>His acquaintance with romantic literature<br /><span style="margin-left: 1em;">and rejection of the "machinery" of adventures</span></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_360">360</a><br /><a href="#Page_360">360</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Flamenca</i>, an appropriation of Ovid—disappearance of romantic mythology</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_361">361</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The <i>Lady of Vergi</i>, a short tragic story without false rhetoric</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_362">362</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Use of medieval themes by the great poets of the fourteenth century</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_363">363</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Boccaccio and Chaucer—the <i>Teseide</i> and the <i>Knight's Tale</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_364">364</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Variety of Chaucer's methods</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_364">364</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Want of art in the <i>Man of Law's Tale</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_365">365</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The abstract point of honour (<i>Clerk's Tale</i>, <i>Franklin's Tale</i>)</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_366">366</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Pathos in the <i>Legend of Good Women</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_366">366</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Romantic method perfect in the <i>Knight's Tale</i></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_366">366</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>Anelida</i>, the abstract form of romance</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_367">367</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>In <i>Troilus and Criseyde</i> the form of medieval romance is filled out with strong dramatic imagination</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_367">367</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Romance obtains the freedom of Epic, without the old local and national limitations of Epic</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_368">368</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Conclusion</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_370">370</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p> </p> + +<h3><a href="#APPENDIX">APPENDIX</a></h3> + +<table style="width: 100%" border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td><a href="#NOTE_A">Note A</a>—Rhetoric of the Alliterative Poetry</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_373">373</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#NOTE_B">Note B</a>—Kjartan and Olaf Tryggvason</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_375">375</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#NOTE_C">Note C</a>—Eyjolf Karsson</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_381">381</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#NOTE_D">Note D</a>—Two Catalogues of Romances</td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_384">384</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td style="text-align: right"> </td></tr> +<tr><td><b><a href="#INDEX">INDEX</a></b></td><td style="text-align: right"><a href="#Page_391">391</a></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h1>INTRODUCTION</h1> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="I.I"></a>I</h3> + +<h3>THE HEROIC AGE</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> title of Epic, or of "heroic poem," is claimed by historians for a +number of works belonging to the earlier Middle Ages, and to the +medieval origins of modern literature. "Epic" is a term freely applied +to the old school of Germanic narrative poetry, which in different +dialects is represented by the poems of Hildebrand, of Beowulf, of +Sigurd and Brynhild. "Epic" is the name for the body of old French +poems which is headed by the <i>Chanson de Roland</i>. The rank of Epic is +assigned by many to the <i>Nibelungenlied</i>, not to speak of other Middle +High German poems on themes of German tradition. The title of prose +Epic has been claimed for the Sagas of Iceland.</p> + +<p>By an equally common consent the name Romance is given to a number of +kinds of medieval narrative by which the Epic is succeeded and +displaced; most notably in France, but also in other countries which +were led, mainly by the example and influence of France, to give up +their own "epic" forms and subjects in favour of new manners.</p> + +<p>This literary classification corresponds in general history to the +difference between the earlier "heroic"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> age and the age of chivalry. +The "epics" of Hildebrand and Beowulf belong, if not wholly to German +heathendom, at any rate to the earlier and prefeudal stage of German +civilisation. The French epics, in their extant form, belong for the +most part in spirit, if not always in date, to an order of things +unmodified by the great changes of the twelfth century. While among +the products of the twelfth century one of the most remarkable is the +new school of French romance, the brilliant and frequently +vainglorious exponent of the modern ideas of that age, and of all its +chivalrous and courtly fashions of thought and sentiment. The +difference of the two orders of literature is as plain as the +difference in the art of war between the two sides of the battle of +Hastings, which indeed is another form of the same thing; for the +victory of the Norman knights over the English axemen has more than a +fanciful or superficial analogy to the victory of the new literature +of chivalry over the older forms of heroic narrative. The history of +those two orders of literature, of the earlier Epic kinds, followed by +the various types of medieval Romance, is parallel to the general +political history of the earlier and the later Middle Ages, and may do +something to illustrate the general progress of the nations. The +passage from the earlier "heroic" civilisation to the age of chivalry +was not made without some contemporary record of the "form and +pressure" of the times in the changing fashions of literature, and in +successive experiments of the imagination.</p> + +<p>Whatever Epic may mean, it implies some weight and solidity; Romance +means nothing, if it does not convey some notion of mystery and +fantasy. A general distinction of this kind, whatever names may be +used to render it, can be shown, in medieval<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> literature, to hold good +of the two large groups of narrative belonging to the earlier and the +later Middle Ages respectively. Beowulf might stand for the one side, +Lancelot or Gawain for the other. It is a difference not confined to +literature. The two groups are distinguished from one another, as the +respectable piratical gentleman of the North Sea coast in the ninth or +tenth century differs from one of the companions of St. Louis. The +latter has something fantastic in his ideas which the other has not. +The Crusader may indeed be natural and brutal enough in most of his +ways, but he has lost the sobriety and simplicity of the earlier type +of rover. If nothing else, his way of fighting—the undisciplined +cavalry charge—would convict him of extravagance as compared with men +of business, like the settlers of Iceland for example.</p> + +<p>The two great kinds of narrative literature in the Middle Ages might +be distinguished by their favourite incidents and commonplaces of +adventure. No kind of adventure is so common or better told in the +earlier heroic manner than the defence of a narrow place against odds. +Such are the stories of Hamther and Sorli in the hall of Ermanaric, of +the Niblung kings in the hall of Attila, of the Fight of Finnesburh, +of Walter at the Wasgenstein, of Byrhtnoth at Maldon, of Roland in the +Pyrenees. Such are some of the finest passages in the Icelandic Sagas: +the death of Gunnar, the burning of Njal's house, the burning of +Flugumyri (an authentic record), the last fight of Kjartan in +Svinadal, and of Grettir at Drangey. The story of Cynewulf and +Cyneheard in the English Chronicle may well have come from a poem in +which an attack and defence of this sort were narrated.</p> + +<p>The favourite adventure of medieval romance is something different,—a +knight riding alone through a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> forest; another knight; a shock of +lances; a fight on foot with swords, "racing, tracing, and foining +like two wild boars"; then, perhaps, recognition—the two knights +belong to the same household and are engaged in the same quest.</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Et Guivrez vers lui esperone,<br /> +De rien nule ne l'areisone,<br /> +Ne Erec ne li sona mot.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em"><i>Erec</i>, l. 5007.</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>This collision of blind forces, this tournament at random, takes the +place, in the French romances, of the older kind of combat. In the +older kind the parties have always good reasons of their own for +fighting; they do not go into it with the same sort of readiness as +the wandering champions of romance.</p> + +<p>The change of temper and fashion represented by the appearance and the +vogue of the medieval French romances is a change involving the whole +world, and going far beyond the compass of literature and literary +history. It meant the final surrender of the old ideas, independent of +Christendom, which had been enough for the Germanic nations in their +earlier days; it was the close of their heroic age. What the "heroic +age" of the modern nations really was, may be learned from what is +left of their heroic literature, especially from three groups or +classes,—the old Teutonic alliterative poems on native subjects; the +French <i>Chansons de Geste</i>; and the Icelandic Sagas.</p> + +<p>All these three orders, whatever their faults may be, do something to +represent a society which is "heroic" as the Greeks in Homer are +heroic. There can be no mistake about the likeness. To compare the +imaginations and the phrases of any of these barbarous works with the +poetry of Homer may be futile, but their contents may be compared +without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> reference to their poetical qualities; and there is no +question that the life depicted has many things in common with Homeric +life, and agrees with Homer in ignorance of the peculiar ideas of +medieval chivalry.</p> + +<p>The form of society in an heroic age is aristocratic and magnificent. +At the same time, this aristocracy differs from that of later and more +specialised forms of civilisation. It does not make an insuperable +difference between gentle and simple. There is not the extreme +division of labour that produces the contempt of the lord for the +villain. The nobles have not yet discovered for themselves any form of +occupation or mode of thought in virtue of which they are widely +severed from the commons, nor have they invented any such ideal of +life or conventional system of conduct as involves an ignorance or +depreciation of the common pursuits of those below them. They have no +such elaborate theory of conduct as is found in the chivalrous society +of the Middle Ages. The great man is the man who is best at the things +with which every one is familiar. The epic hero may despise the +churlish man, may, like Odysseus in the <i>Iliad</i> (ii. 198), show little +sympathy or patience with the bellowings of the multitude, but he may +not ostentatiously refuse all community of ideas with simple people. +His magnificence is not defended by scruples about everything low. It +would not have mattered to Odysseus if he had been seen travelling in +a cart, like Lancelot; though for Lancelot it was a great misfortune +and anxiety. The art and pursuits of a gentleman in the heroic age are +different from those of the churl, but not so far different as to keep +them in different spheres. There is a community of prosaic interests. +The great man is a good judge of cattle; he sails his own ship.</p> + +<p>A gentleman adventurer on board his own ship,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> following out his own +ideas, carrying his men with him by his own power of mind and temper, +and not by means of any system of naval discipline to which he as well +as they must be subordinate; surpassing his men in skill, knowledge, +and ambition, but taking part with them and allowing them to take part +in the enterprise, is a good representative of the heroic age. This +relation between captain and men may be found, accidentally and +exceptionally, in later and more sophisticated forms of society. In +the heroic age a relation between a great man and his followers +similar to that between an Elizabethan captain and his crew is found +to be the most important and fundamental relation in society. In later +times it is only by a special favour of circumstances, as for example +by the isolation of shipboard from all larger monarchies, that the +heroic relation between the leader and the followers can be repeated. +As society becomes more complex and conventional, this relation +ceases. The homeliness of conversation between Odysseus and his +vassals, or between Njal and Thord Freedman's son, is discouraged by +the rules of courtly behaviour as gentlefolk become more idle and +ostentatious, and their vassals more sordid and dependent. The secrets +also of political intrigue and dexterity made a difference between +noble and villain, in later and more complex medieval politics, such +as is unknown in the earlier days and the more homely forms of +Society. An heroic age may be full of all kinds of nonsense and +superstition, but its motives of action are mainly positive and +sensible,—cattle, sheep, piracy, abduction, merchandise, recovery of +stolen goods, revenge. The narrative poetry of an heroic age, whatever +dignity it may obtain either by its dramatic force of imagination, or +by the aid of its mythology, will keep its hold upon such common +matters, simply because it cannot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> do without the essential practical +interests, and has nothing to put in their place, if kings and chiefs +are to be represented at all. The heroic age cannot dress up ideas or +sentiments to play the part of characters. If its characters are not +men they are nothing, not even thoughts or allegories; they cannot go +on talking unless they have something to do; and so the whole business +of life comes bodily into the epic poem.</p> + +<p>How much the matter of the Northern heroic literature resembles the +Homeric, may be felt and recognised at every turn in a survey of the +ground. In both there are the <i>ashen spears</i>; there are the <i>shepherds +of the people</i>; the retainers bound by loyalty to the prince who gives +them meat and drink; the great hall with its minstrelsy, its boasting +and bickering; the battles which are a number of single combats, while +"physiology supplies the author with images"<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> for the same; the +heroic rule of conduct (<span title="Greek: iomen">ιομεν</span>)<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>; the eminence of the hero, +and at the same time his community of occupation and interest with +those who are less distinguished.</p> + +<p>There are other resemblances also, but some of these are miraculous, +and perhaps irrelevant. By what magic is it that the cry of Odysseus, +wounded and hard bestead in his retreat before the Trojans, comes over +us like the three blasts of the horn of Roland?</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Thrice he shouted, as loud as the head of a man will bear; +and three times Menelaus heard the sound thereof, and +quickly he turned and spake to Ajax: "Ajax, there is come +about me the cry of Odysseus slow to yield; and it is like +as though the Trojans had come hard upon him by himself +alone, closing him round in the battle."<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> +<p>It is reported as a discovery made by Mephistopheles in Thessaly, in +the classical <i>Walpurgisnacht</i>, that the company there was very much +like his old acquaintances on the Brocken. A similar discovery, in +regard to more honourable personages and other scenes, may be made by +other Gothic travellers in a "south-eastward" journey to heroic +Greece. The classical reader of the Northern heroics may be frequently +disgusted by their failures; he may also be bribed, if not to applaud, +at least to continue his study, by the glimmerings and "shadowy +recollections," the affinities and correspondences between the Homeric +and the Northern heroic world.</p> + +<p>Beowulf and his companions sail across the sea to Denmark on an errand +of deliverance,—to cleanse the land of monsters. They are welcomed by +Hrothgar, king of the Danes, and by his gentle queen, in a house less +fortunate than the house of Alcinous, for it is exposed to the attacks +of the lumpish ogre that Beowulf has to kill, but recalling in its +splendour, in the manner of its entertainment, and the bearing of its +gracious lord and lady, the house where Odysseus told his story. +Beowulf, like Odysseus, is assailed by an envious person with +discourteous words. Hunferth, the Danish courtier, is irritated by +Beowulf's presence; "he could not endure that any one should be +counted worthier than himself"; he speaks enviously, a biting +speech—<span title="Greek: thymodakês gar mythos">θυμοδακης γαρ μυθος</span>—and is answered in the tone of +Odysseus to Euryalus.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> Beowulf has a story to tell of his former +perils among the creatures of the sea. It is differently introduced +from that of Odysseus, and has not the same importance, but it +increases the likeness between the two adventurers.</p> + +<p>In the shadowy halls of the Danish king a minstrel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> sings of the +famous deeds of men, and his song is given as an interlude in the main +action. It is a poem on that same tragedy of Finnesburh, which is the +theme of a separate poem in the Old English heroic cycle; so Demodocus +took his subjects from the heroic cycle of Achaea. The leisure of the +Danish king's house is filled in the same manner as the leisure of +Phaeacia. In spite of the difference of the climate, it is impossible +to mistake the likeness between the Greek and the Northern conceptions +of a dignified and reasonable way of life. The magnificence of the +Homeric great man is like the magnificence of the Northern lord, in so +far as both are equally marked off from the pusillanimity and +cheapness of popular morality on the one hand, and from the +ostentation of Oriental or chivalrous society on the other. The +likeness here is not purely in the historical details, but much more +in the spirit that informs the poetry.</p> + +<p>If this part of <i>Beowulf</i> is a Northern <i>Odyssey</i>, there is nothing in +the whole range of English literature so like a scene from the <i>Iliad</i> +as the narrative of Maldon. It is a battle in which the separate deeds +of the fighters are described, with not quite so much anatomy as in +Homer. The fighting about the body of Byrhtnoth is described as +strongly, as "the Fighting at the Wall" in the twelfth book of the +<i>Iliad</i>, and essentially in the same way, with the interchange of +blows clearly noted, together with the speeches and thoughts of the +combatants. Even the most heroic speech in Homer, even the power of +Sarpedon's address to Glaucus in the twelfth book of the <i>Iliad</i>, +cannot discredit, by comparison, the heroism and the sublimity of the +speech of the "old companion" at the end of <i>Maldon</i>. The language is +simple, but it is not less adequate in its own way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> than the +simplicity of Sarpedon's argument. It states, perhaps more clearly and +absolutely than anything in Greek, the Northern principle of +resistance to all odds, and defiance of ruin. In the North the +individual spirit asserts itself more absolutely against the bodily +enemies than in Greece; the defiance is made wholly independent of any +vestige of prudent consideration; the contradiction, "Thought the +harder, Heart the keener, Mood the more, as our Might lessens," is +stated in the most extreme terms. This does not destroy the +resemblance between the Greek and the Northern ideal, or between the +respective forms of representation.</p> + +<p>The creed of Maldon is that of Achilles:<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> "Xanthus, what need is +there to prophesy of death? Well do I know that it is my doom to +perish here, far from my father and mother; but for all that I will +not turn back, until I give the Trojans their fill of war." The +difference is that in the English case the strain is greater, the +irony deeper, the antithesis between the spirit and the body more +paradoxical.</p> + +<p>Where the centre of life is a great man's house, and where the most +brilliant society is that which is gathered at his feast, where +competitive boasting, story-telling, and minstrelsy are the principal +intellectual amusements, it is inevitable that these should find their +way into a kind of literature which has no foundation except +experience and tradition. Where fighting is more important than +anything else in active life, and at the same time is carried on +without organisation or skilled combinations, it is inevitable that it +should be described as it is in the <i>Iliad</i>, the <i>Song of Maldon</i> and +<i>Song of Roland</i>, and the Icelandic Sagas, as a series of personal +encounters, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> which every stroke is remembered. From this early +aristocratic form of society, there is derived in one age the +narrative of life at Ithaca or of the navigation of Odysseus, in +another the representation of the household of Njal or of Olaf the +Peacock, and of the rovings of Olaf Tryggvason and other captains. +There is an affinity between these histories in virtue of something +over and above the likeness in the conditions of things they describe. +There is a community of literary sense as well as of historical +conditions, in the record of Achilles and Kjartan Olafsson, of +Odysseus and Njal.</p> + +<p>The circumstances of an heroic age may be found in numberless times +and places, in the history of the world. Among its accompaniments will +be generally found some sort of literary record of sentiments and +imaginations; but to find an heroic literature of the highest order is +not so easy. Many nations instead of an <i>Iliad</i> or an <i>Odyssey</i> have +had to make shift with conventional repetitions of the praise of +chieftains, without any story; many have had to accept from their +story-tellers all sorts of monstrous adventures in place of the +humanities of debate and argument. Epic literature is not common; it +is brought to perfection by a slow process through many generations. +The growth of Epic out of the older and commoner forms of poetry, +hymns, dirges, or panegyrics, is a progress towards intellectual and +imaginative freedom. Few nations have attained, at the close of their +heroic age, to a form of poetical art in which men are represented +freely in action and conversation. The labour and meditation of all +the world has not discovered, for the purposes of narrative, any +essential modification of the procedure of Homer. Those who are +considered reformers and discoverers in later times—Chaucer, +Cervantes, Fielding—are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> discoverers merely of the old devices of +dramatic narration which were understood by Homer and described after +him by Aristotle.</p> + +<p>The growth of Epic, in the beginning of the history of the modern +nations, has been generally thwarted and stunted. It cannot be said of +many of the languages of the North and West of Europe that in them the +epic form has come fully to its own, or has realised its proper +nature. Many of them, however, have at least made a beginning. The +history of the older German literature, and of old French, is the +history of a great number of experiments in Epic; of attempts, that +is, to represent great actions in narrative, with the personages well +defined. These experiments are begun in the right way. They are not +merely barbarous nor fantastic. They are different also from such +traditional legends and romances as may survive among simple people +long after the day of their old glories and their old kings. The poems +of <i>Beowulf</i> and <i>Waldere</i>, of <i>Roland</i> and <i>William of Orange</i>, are +intelligible and reasonable works, determined in the main by the same +essential principles of narrative art, and of dramatic conversation +within the narrative, as are observed in the practice of Homer. +Further, these are poems in which, as in the Homeric poems, the ideas +of their time are conveyed and expressed in a noble manner: they are +high-spirited poems. They have got themselves clear of the confusion +and extravagance of early civilisation, and have hit upon a way of +telling a story clearly and in proportion, and with dignity. They are +epic in virtue of their superiority to the more fantastic motives of +interest, and in virtue of their study of human character. They are +heroic in the nobility of their temper and their style. If at any time +they indulge in heroic commonplaces of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> sentiment, they do so without +insincerity or affectation, as the expression of the general temper or +opinion of their own time. They are not separated widely from the +matters of which they treat; they are not antiquarian revivals of past +forms, nor traditional vestiges of things utterly remote and separate +from the actual world. What art they may possess is different from the +"rude sweetness" of popular ballads, and from the unconscious grace of +popular tales. They have in different degrees and manners the form of +epic poetry, in their own right. There are recognisable qualities that +serve to distinguish even a fragment of heroic poetry from the ballads +and romances of a lower order, however near these latter forms may +approach at times to the epic dignity.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="I.II"></a>II</h3> + +<h3>EPIC AND ROMANCE</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is the nature of epic poetry to be at ease in regard to its subject +matter, to be free from the strain and excitement of weaker and more +abstract forms of poetry in dealing with heroic subjects. The heroic +ideal of epic is not attained by a process of abstraction and +separation from the meannesses of familiar things. The magnificence +and aristocratic dignity of epic is conformable to the practical and +ethical standards of the heroic age; that is to say, it tolerates a +number of things that may be found mean and trivial by academicians. +Epic poetry is one of the complex and comprehensive kinds of +literature, in which most of the other kinds may be included—romance, +history, comedy; <i>tragical</i>, <i>comical</i>, <i>historical</i>, <i>pastoral</i> are +terms not sufficiently various to denote the variety of the <i>Iliad</i> +and the <i>Odyssey</i>.</p> + +<p>The "common life" of the Homeric poems may appeal to modern pedantic +theorists, and be used by them in support of Euripidean or +Wordsworthian receipts for literature. But the comprehensiveness of +the greater kinds of poetry, of Homer and Shakespeare, is a different +thing from the premeditated and self-assertive realism of the authors +who take viciously to common life by way of protest against the +romantic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> extreme. It has its origin, not in a critical theory about +the proper matter of literature, but in dramatic imagination. In an +epic poem where the characters are vividly imagined, it follows +naturally that their various moods and problems involve a variety of +scenery and properties, and so the whole business of life comes into +the story.</p> + +<p>The success of epic poetry depends on the author's power of imagining +and representing characters. A kind of success and a kind of +magnificence may be attained in stories, professing to be epic, in +which there is no dramatic virtue, in which every new scene and new +adventure merely goes to accumulate, in immortal verse, the proofs of +the hero's nullity and insignificance. This is not the epic poetry of +the heroic ages.</p> + +<p>Aristotle, in his discussion of tragedy, chose to lay stress upon the +plot, the story. On the other hand, to complete the paradox, in the +epic he makes the characters all-important, not the story. Without the +tragic plot or fable, the tragedy becomes a series of moral essays or +monologues; the life of the drama is derived from the original idea of +the fable which is its subject. Without dramatic representation of the +characters, epic is mere history or romance; the variety and life of +epic are to be found in the drama that springs up at every encounter +of the personages.</p> + +<p>"Homer is the only poet who knows the right proportions of epic +narrative; when to narrate, and when to let the characters speak for +themselves. Other poets for the most part tell their story straight +on, with scanty passages of drama and far between. Homer, with little +prelude, leaves the stage to his personages, men and women, all with +characters of their own."<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> +<p>Aristotle wrote with very little consideration for the people who were +to come after him, and gives little countenance to such theories of +epic as have at various times been prevalent among the critics, in +which the dignity of the subject is insisted on. He does not imagine +it the chief duty of an epic poet to choose a lofty argument for +historical rhetoric. He does not say a word about the national or the +ecumenical importance of the themes of the epic poet. His analysis of +the plot of the <i>Odyssey</i>, but for the reference to Poseidon, might +have been the description of a modern realistic story.</p> + +<p>"A man is abroad for many years, persecuted by Poseidon and alone; +meantime the suitors of his wife are wasting his estate and plotting +against his son; after many perils by sea he returns to his own +country and discovers himself to his friends. He falls on his enemies +and destroys them, and so comes to his own again."</p> + +<p>The <i>Iliad</i> has more likeness than the <i>Odyssey</i> to the common pattern +of later sophisticated epics. But the war of Troy is not the subject +of the <i>Iliad</i> in the same way as the siege of Jerusalem is the +subject of Tasso's poem. The story of the <i>Aeneid</i> can hardly be told +in the simplest form without some reference to the destiny of Rome, or +the story of <i>Paradise Lost</i> without the feud of heaven and hell. But +in the <i>Iliad</i>, the assistance of the Olympians, or even the presence +of the whole of Greece, is not in the same degree essential to the +plot of the story of Achilles. In the form of Aristotle's summary of +the <i>Odyssey</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> reduced to "the cool element of prose," the <i>Iliad</i> +may be proved to be something quite different from the common fashion +of literary epics. It might go in something like this way:—</p> + +<p>"A certain man taking part in a siege is slighted by the general, and +in his resentment withdraws from the war, though his own side is in +great need of his help. His dearest friend having been killed by the +enemy, he comes back into the action and takes vengeance for his +friend, and allows himself to be reconciled."</p> + +<p>It is the debate among the characters, and not the onset of Hera and +Athena in the chariot of Heaven, that gives its greatest power to the +<i>Iliad</i>. The <i>Iliad</i>, with its "machines," its catalogue of the +forces, its funeral games, has contributed more than the <i>Odyssey</i> to +the common pattern of manufactured epics. But the essence of the poem +is not to be found among the Olympians. Achilles refusing the embassy +or yielding to Priam has no need of the Olympian background. The poem +is in a great degree independent of "machines"; its life is in the +drama of the characters. The source of all its variety is the +imagination by which the characters are distinguished; the liveliness +and variety of the characters bring with them all the other kinds of +variety.</p> + +<p>It is impossible for the author who knows his personages intimately to +keep to any one exclusive mode of sentiment or one kind of scene. He +cannot be merely tragical and heroic, or merely comical and pastoral; +these are points of view to which those authors are confined who are +possessed by one kind of sentiment or sensibility, and who wish to +find expression for their own prevailing mood. The author who is +interested primarily in his characters will not allow them to be +obliterated by the story or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> by its diffused impersonal sentiment. The +action of an heroic poem must be "of a certain magnitude," but the +accessories need not be all heroic and magnificent; the heroes do not +derive their magnificence from the scenery, the properties, and the +author's rhetoric, but contrariwise: the dramatic force and +self-consistency of the <i>dramatis personae</i> give poetic value to any +accessories of scenery or sentiment which may be required by the +action. They are not figures "animating" a landscape; what the +landscape means for the poet's audience is determined by the character +of his personages.</p> + +<p>All the variety of epic is explained by Aristotle's remark on Homer. +Where the characters are true, and dramatically represented, there can +be no monotony.</p> + +<p>In the different kinds of Northern epic literature—German, English, +French, and Norse—belonging to the Northern heroic ages, there will +be found in different degrees this epic quality of drama. Whatever +magnificence they may possess comes mainly from the dramatic strength +of the heroes, and in a much less degree from the historic dignity or +importance of the issues of the story, or from its mythological +decorations.</p> + +<p>The place of history in the heroic poems belonging to an heroic age is +sometimes misconceived. Early epic poetry may be concerned with great +historic events. It does not necessarily emphasise—by preference it +does not emphasise—the historic importance or the historic results of +the events with which it deals. Heroic poetry implies an heroic age, +an age of pride and courage, in which there is not any extreme +organisation of politics to hinder the individual talent and its +achievements, nor on the other hand too much isolation of the hero +through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> the absence of any national or popular consciousness. There +must be some unity of sentiment, some common standard of appreciation, +among the people to whom the heroes belong, if they are to escape +oblivion. But this common sentiment must not be such as to make the +idea of the community and its life predominant over the individual +genius of its members. In such a case there may be a Roman history, +but not anything approaching the nature of the Homeric poems.</p> + +<p>In some epic poems belonging to an heroic age, and not to a time of +self-conscious and reflective literature, there may be found general +conceptions that seem to resemble those of the <i>Aeneid</i> rather than +those of the <i>Iliad</i>. In many of the old French <i>Chansons de Geste</i>, +the war against the infidels is made the general subject of the story, +and the general idea of the Holy War is expressed as fully as by +Tasso. Here, however, the circumstances are exceptional. The French +epic with all its Homeric analogies is not as sincere as Homer. It is +exposed to the touch of influences from another world, and though many +of the French poems, or great part of many of them, may tell of heroes +who would be content with the simple and positive rules of the heroic +life, this is not allowed them. They are brought within the sphere of +other ideas, of another civilisation, and lose their independence.</p> + +<p>Most of the old German heroic poetry is clearly to be traced, as far +as its subjects are concerned, to the most exciting periods in early +German history, between the fourth and the sixth centuries. The names +that seem to have been most commonly known to the poets are the names +that are most important to the historian—Ermanaric, Attila, +Theodoric. In the wars of the great migration the spirit of each of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +the German families was quickened, and at the same time the spirit of +the whole of Germany, so that each part sympathised with all the rest, +and the fame of the heroes went abroad beyond the limits of their own +kindred. Ermanaric, Attila, and Theodoric, Sigfred the Frank, and +Gundahari the Burgundian, are heroes over all the region occupied by +all forms of Teutonic language. But although the most important period +of early German history may be said to have produced the old German +heroic poetry, by giving a number of heroes to the poets, at the same +time that the imagination was stirred to appreciate great things and +make the most of them, still the result is nothing like the patriotic +epic in twelve books, the <i>Aeneid</i> or the <i>Lusiad</i>, which chooses, of +set purpose, the theme of the national glory. Nor is it like those old +French epics in which there often appears a contradiction between the +story of individual heroes, pursuing their own fortunes, and the idea +of a common cause to which their own fortunes ought to be, but are not +always, subordinate. The great historical names which appear in the +old German heroic poetry are seldom found there in anything like their +historical character, and not once in their chief historical aspect as +adversaries of the Roman Empire. Ermanaric, Attila, and Theodoric are +all brought into the same Niblung story, a story widely known in +different forms, though it was never adequately written out. The true +history of the war between the Burgundians and the Huns in the fifth +century is forgotten. In place of it, there is associated with the +life and death of Gundahari the Burgundian king a story which may have +been vastly older, and may have passed through many different forms +before it became the story of the Niblung treasure, of Sigfred and +Brynhild. This,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> which has made free with so many great historical +names, the name of Attila, the name of Theodoric, has little to do +with history. In this heroic story coming out of the heroic age, there +is not much that can be traced to historical as distinct from mythical +tradition. The tragedy of the death of Attila, as told in the +<i>Atlakviða</i> and the <i>Atlamál</i>, may indeed owe something to the facts +recorded by historians, and something more to vaguer historical +tradition of the vengeance of Rosamund on Alboin the Lombard. But, in +the main, the story of the Niblungs is independent of history, in +respect of its matter; in its meaning and effect as a poetical story +it is absolutely free from history. It is a drama of personal +encounters and rivalries. This also, like the story of Achilles, is +fit for a stage in which the characters are left free to declare +themselves in their own way, unhampered by any burden of history, any +purpose or moral apart from the events that are played out in the +dramatic clashing of one will against another.</p> + +<p>It is not vanity in an historian to look for the historical origin of +the tale of Troy or of the vengeance of Gudrun; but no result in +either case can greatly affect the intrinsic relations of the various +elements within the poems. The relations of Achilles to his +surroundings in the <i>Iliad</i>, of Attila and Ermanaric to theirs, are +freely conceived by the several poets, and are intelligible at once, +without reference to anything outside the poems. To require of the +poetry of an heroic age that it shall recognise the historical meaning +and importance of the events in which it originates, and the persons +whose names it uses, is entirely to mistake the nature of it. Its +nature is to find or make some drama played by kings and heroes, and +to let the historical framework take care of itself. The connexion of +epic poetry with history is real,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> and it is a fitting subject for +historical inquiry, but it lies behind the scene. The epic poem is cut +loose and set free from history, and goes on a way of its own.</p> + +<p>Epic magnificence and the dignity of heroic poetry may thus be only +indirectly derived from such greatness or magnificence as is known to +true prosaic history. The heroes, even if they can be identified as +historical, may retain in epic nothing of their historical character, +except such qualities as fit them for great actions. Their conduct in +epic poetry may be very far unlike their actual demeanour in true +history; their greatest works may be thrust into a corner of the epic, +or barely alluded to, or left out altogether. Their greatness in epic +may be quite a different kind of greatness from that of their true +history and where there are many poems belonging to the same cycle +there may be the greatest discrepancy among the views taken of the +same hero by different authors, and all the views may be alike remote +from the prosaic or scientific view. There is no constant or +self-consistent opinion about the character of Charles the Emperor in +old French poetry: there is one view in the <i>Chanson de Roland</i>, +another in the <i>Pèlerinage</i>, another in the <i>Coronemenz Looïs</i>: none +of the opinions is anything like an elaborate or detailed historical +judgment. Attila, though he loses his political importance and most of +his historical acquisitions in the Teutonic heroic poems in which he +appears, may retain in some of them his ruthlessness and strength; at +other times he may be a wise and peaceful king. All that is constant, +or common, in the different poetical reports of him, is that he was +great. What touches the mind of the poet out of the depths of the past +is nothing but the tradition, undefined, of something lordly. This +vagueness of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> tradition does not imply that tradition is impotent or +barren; only that it leaves all the execution, the growth of detail, +to the freedom of the poet. He is bound to the past, in one way; it is +laid upon him to tell the stories of the great men of his own race. +But in those stories, as they come to him, what is most lively is not +a set and established series of incidents, true or false, but +something to which the standards of truth and falsehood are scarcely +applicable; something stirring him up to admiration, a compulsion or +influence upon him requiring him to make the story again in his own +way; not to interpret history, but to make a drama of his own, filled +somehow with passion and strength of mind. It does not matter in what +particular form it may be represented, so long as in some form or +other the power of the national glory is allowed to pass into his +work.</p> + +<p>This vagueness and generality in the relation of heroic poetry to the +historical events and persons of an heroic age is of course quite a +different thing from vagueness in the poetry itself. Gunther and +Attila, Roland and Charlemagne, in poetry, are very vaguely connected +with their antitypes in history; but that does not prevent them from +being characterised minutely, if it should agree with the poet's taste +or lie within his powers to have it so. The strange thing is that this +vague relation should be so necessary to heroic poetry; that it should +be impossible at any stage of literature or in any way by taking +thought to make up for the want of it.</p> + +<p>The place of Gunther the Burgundian, Sigfred the Frank, and Attila the +Hun, in the poetical stories of the Niblung treasure may be in one +sense accidental. The fables of the treasure with a curse upon it, the +killing of the dragon, the sleeping princess, the wavering flame, are +not limited to this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> particular course of tradition, and, further, the +traditional motives of the Niblung story have varied enormously not +only in different countries, but in one and the same language at the +same time. The story is never told alike by two narrators; what is +common and essential in it is nothing palpable or fixed, but goes from +poet to poet "like a shadow from dream to dream." And the historical +names are apparently unessential; yet they remain. To look for the +details of the Niblung story in the sober history of the Goths and +Huns, Burgundians and Franks, is like the vanity confessed by the +author of the <i>Roman de Rou</i>, when he went on a sentimental journey to +Broceliande, and was disappointed to find there only the common +daylight and nothing of the Faerie. Nevertheless it is the historical +names, and the vague associations about them, that give to the Niblung +story, not indeed the whole of its plot, but its temper, its pride and +glory, its heroic and epic character.</p> + +<p>Heroic poetry is not, as a rule, greatly indebted to historical fact +for its material. The epic poet does not keep record of the great +victories or the great disasters. He cannot, however, live without the +ideas and sentiments of heroism that spring up naturally in periods +like those of the Teutonic migrations. In this sense the historic +Gunther and Attila are necessary to the Niblung story. The wars and +fightings of generation on generation went to create the heroism, the +loftiness of spirit, expressed in the Teutonic epic verse. The plots +of the stories may be commonplace, the common property of all popular +tales. The temper is such as is not found everywhere, but only in +historical periods of great energy. The names of Ermanaric and Attila +correspond to hardly anything of literal history in the heroic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> poems; +but they are the sign of conquests and great exploits that have gone +to form character, though their details are forgotten.</p> + +<p>It may be difficult to appreciate and understand in detail this vague +relation of epic poetry to the national life and to the renown of the +national heroes, but the general fact is not less positive or less +capable of verification than the date of the battle of Châlons, or the +series of the Gothic vowels. All that is needed to prove this is to +compare the poetry of a national cycle with the poetry that comes in +its place when the national cycle is deserted for other heroes.</p> + +<p>The secondary or adopted themes may be treated with so much of the +manner of the original poetry as to keep little of their foreign +character. The rhetoric, the poetical habit, of the original epic may +be retained. As in the Saxon poem on the Gospel history, the +<i>Hêliand</i>, the twelve disciples may be represented as Thanes owing +loyalty to their Prince, in common poetic terms befitting the men of +Beowulf or Byrhtnoth. As in the French poems on Alexander the Great, +Alexander may become a feudal king, and take over completely all that +belongs to such a rank. There may be no consciousness of any need for +a new vocabulary or a new mode of expression to fit the foreign +themes. In France, it is true, there is a general distinction of form +between the <i>Chansons de Geste</i> and the romances; though to this there +are exceptions, themes not French, and themes not purely heroic, being +represented in the epic form. In the early Teutonic poetry there is no +distinction of versification, vocabulary, or rhetoric between the +original and the secondary narrative poems; the alliterative verse +belongs to both kinds equally. Nor is it always the case that subjects +derived from books<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> or from abroad are handled with less firmness than +the original and traditional plots. Though sometimes a prevailing +affection for imported stories, for Celtic or Oriental legend, may be +accompanied by a relaxation in the style, the superiority of national +to foreign subjects is not always proved by greater strength or +eloquence. Can it be said that the Anglo-Saxon <i>Judith</i>, for instance, +is less heroic, less strong and sound, than the somewhat damaged and +motley accoutrements of Beowulf?</p> + +<p>The difference is this, that the more original and native kind of epic +has immediate association with all that the people know about +themselves, with all their customs, all that part of their experience +which no one can account for or refer to any particular source. A poem +like <i>Beowulf</i> can play directly on a thousand chords of association; +the range of its appeal to the minds of an audience is almost +unlimited; on no side is the poet debarred from freedom of movement, +if only he remember first of all what is due to the hero. He has all +the life of his people to strengthen him.</p> + +<p>A poem like the <i>Hêliand</i> is under an obligation to a literary +original, and cannot escape from this restriction. It makes what use +it can of the native associations, but with whatever perseverance the +author may try to bend his story into harmony with the laws of his own +country, there is an untranslated residue of foreign ideas.</p> + +<p>Whatever the defects or excesses of <i>Beowulf</i> may be, the characters +are not distressed by any such unsolved contradiction as in the Saxon +<i>Hêliand</i>, or in the old English <i>Exodus</i>, or <i>Andreas</i>, or the other +poems taken from the Bible or the lives of saints. They have not, like +the personages of the second order of poems, been translated from one +realm of ideas to another, and made to take up burdens and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> offices +not their own. They have grown naturally in the mind of a poet, out of +the poet's knowledge of human nature, and the traditional ethical +judgments of which he is possessed.</p> + +<p>The comparative freedom of <i>Beowulf</i> in its relation to historical +tradition and traditional ethics, and the comparative limitation of +the <i>Hêliand</i>, are not in themselves conditions of either advantage or +inferiority. They simply mark the difference between two types of +narrative poem. To be free and comprehensive in relation to history, +to summarise and represent in epic characters the traditional +experience of an heroic age, is not the proper virtue of every kind of +poetry, though it is proper to the Homeric kind. The freedom that +belongs to the <i>Iliad</i> and the <i>Odyssey</i> is also shared by many a +dismal and interminable poem of the Middle Ages. That foreign or +literary subjects impose certain limitations, and interfere with the +direct use of matter of experience in poetry, is nothing against them. +The Anglo-Saxon <i>Judith</i>, which is thus restricted as compared with +<i>Beowulf</i>, may be more like Milton for these restrictions, if it be +less like Homer. Exemption from them is not a privilege, except that +it gives room for the attainment of a certain kind of excellence, the +Homeric kind; as, on the other hand, it excludes the possibility of +the literary art of Virgil or Milton.</p> + +<p>The relation of epic poetry to its heroic age is not to be found in +the observance of any strict historical duty. It lies rather in the +epic capacity for bringing together all manner of lively passages from +the general experience of the age, in a story about famous heroic +characters. The plot of the story gives unity and harmony to the +composition, while the variety of its matter is permitted and +justified by the dramatic variety of the characters and their +interests.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> + +<p>By its comprehensiveness and the variety of its substance, which are +the signs and products of its dramatic imagination, epic poetry of the +heroic age is distinguished from the more abstract kinds of narrative, +such as the artificial epic, and from all kinds of imagination or +fancy that are limited in their scope.</p> + +<p>In times when "the Epic Poem" was a more attractive, if not more +perilous theme of debate than it now is, there was a strong +controversy about the proper place and the proper kind of miraculous +details to be admitted. The question was debated by Tasso in his +critical writings, against the strict and pedantic imitators of +classical models, and with a strong partiality for Ariosto against +Trissino. Tasso made less of a distinction between romance and epic +than was agreeable to some of his successors in criticism; and the +controversy went on for generations, always more or less concerned +with the great Italian heroic poems, <i>Orlando</i> and <i>Jerusalem</i>. Some +record of it will be found in Dr. Hurd's <i>Letters on Chivalry and +Romance</i> (1762). If the controversy has any interest now, it must be +because it provided the most extreme statements of abstract literary +principles, which on account of their thoroughness are interesting. +From the documents it can be ascertained how near some of the critics +came to that worship of the Faultless Hero with which Dryden in his +heroic plays occasionally conformed, while he guarded himself against +misinterpretation in his prefaces.</p> + +<p>The epic poetry of the more austere critics was devised according to +the strictest principles of dignity and sublimity, with a precise +exclusion of everything "Gothic" and romantic. Davenant's Preface to +<i>Gondibert</i>—"the Author's Preface to his much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> Honour'd friend, Mr +Hobs"—may show how the canon of epic was understood by poets who took +things seriously; "for I will yield to their opinion, who permit not +<i>Ariosto</i>, no, not <i>Du Bartas</i>, in this eminent rank of the +<i>Heroicks</i>; rather than to make way by their admission for <i>Dante</i>, +<i>Marino</i>, and others."</p> + +<p>It is somewhat difficult to find a common measure for these names, but +it is clear that what is most distasteful to the writer, in theory at +any rate, is variety. Epic is the most solemn, stately, and frigid of +all kinds of composition. This was the result attained by the perverse +following of precepts supposed to be classical. The critics of the +seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were generally right in +distinguishing between Epic and Romance, and generally wrong in +separating the one kind from the other as opposite and mutually +exclusive forms, instead of seeing with Tasso, in his critical +discourses, that romance may be included in epic. Against the manifold +perils of the Gothic fantasy they set up the image of the Abstract +Hero, and recited the formulas of the decorous and symmetrical +abstract heroic poem. They were occasionally troubled by the "Gothic" +elements in Homer, of which their adversaries were not slow to take +advantage.</p> + +<p>One of the most orthodox of all the formalists, who for some reason +came to be very much quoted in England, Bossu, in his discourse on the +Epic Poem, had serious difficulties with the adventures of Ulysses, +and his stories told in Phaeacia. The episodes of Circe, of the +Sirens, and of Polyphemus, are <i>machines</i>; they are also not quite +easy to understand. "They are necessary to the action, and yet they +are not humanly probable." But see how Homer gets over the difficulty +and brings back these <i>machines</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> to the region of human probability. +"Homère les fait adroitement rentrer dans la Vraisemblance humaine par +la simplicité de ceux devant qui il fait faire ses récits fabuleux. Il +dit assez plaisamment que les Phéaques habitoient dans une Isle +éloignée des lieux où demeurent les hommes qui ont de l'esprit. +<span title="Greek: heisen d' en Scheriê hekas andrôn alphêstaôn">εισεν δ' εν Σχεριη εκας ανδρων αλφησταων</span>. Ulysses les +avoit connus avant que de se faire connoître à eux: et aiant observé +qu'ils avoient toutes les qualités de ces fainéans qui n'admirent rien +avec plus de plaisir que les aventures Romanesques: il les satisfait +par ces récits accommodez à leur humeur. Mais le Poëte n'y a pas +oublié les Lecteurs raisonnables. Il leur a donné en ces Fables tout +le plaisir que l'on peut tirer des véritez Morales, si agréablement +déguisées sous ces miraculeuses allégories. C'est ainsi qu'il a réduit +ces Machines dans la vérité et dans la Vraisemblance Poëtique."<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p> + +<p>Although the world has fallen away from the severity of this critic, +there is still a meaning at the bottom of his theory of machines. He +has at any rate called attention to one of the most interesting parts +of Epic, and has found the right word for the episodes of the +Phaeacian story of Odysseus. Romance is the word for them, and Romance +is at the same time one of the constituent parts and one of the +enemies of epic poetry. That it was dangerous was seen by the +academical critics. They provided against it, generally, by treating +it with contempt and proscribing it, as was done by those French +critics who were offended by Ariosto and perplexed by much of the +Gothic machinery of Tasso. They did not readily admit that epic poetry +is as complex as the plays of Shakespeare, and as incongruous as these +in its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> composition, if the different constituents be taken out +separately in the laboratory and then compared.</p> + +<p>Romance by itself is a kind of literature that does not allow the full +exercise of dramatic imagination; a limited and abstract form, as +compared with the fulness and variety of Epic; though episodes of +romance, and romantic moods and digressions, may have their place, +along with all other human things, in the epic scheme.</p> + +<p>The difference between the greater and the lesser kinds of narrative +literature is vital and essential, whatever names may be assigned to +them. In the one kind, of which Aristotle knew no other examples than +the <i>Iliad</i> and the <i>Odyssey</i>, the personages are made individual +through their dramatic conduct and their speeches in varying +circumstances; in the other kind, in place of the moods and sentiments +of a multitude of different people entering into the story and working +it out, there is the sentiment of the author in his own person; there +is one voice, the voice of the story-teller, and his theory of the +characters is made to do duty for the characters themselves. There may +be every poetic grace, except that of dramatic variety; and wherever, +in narrative, the independence of the characters is merged in the +sequence of adventures, or in the beauty of the landscape, or in the +effusion of poetic sentiment, the narrative falls below the highest +order, though the art be the art of Ovid or of Spenser.</p> + +<p>The romance of Odysseus is indeed "brought into conformity with poetic +verisimilitude," but in a different way from that of Bossu <i>On the +Epic Poem</i>. It is not because the Phaeacians are romantic in their +tastes, but because it belongs to Odysseus, that the Phaeacian night's +entertainment has its place in the <i>Odyssey</i>. The <i>Odyssey</i> is the +story of his home<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>-coming, his recovery of his own. The great action +of the drama of Odysseus is in his dealings with Penelope, Eumaeus, +Telemachus, the suitors. The Phaeacian story is indeed episodic; the +interest of those adventures is different from that of the meeting +with Penelope. Nevertheless it is all kept in harmony with the +stronger part of the poem. It is not pure fantasy and "Faerie," like +the voyage of Maelduin or the vigil in the castle of Busirane. +Odysseus in the house of Alcinous is not different from Odysseus of +the return to Ithaca. The story is not pure romance, it is a dramatic +monologue; and the character of the speaker has more part than the +wonders of the story in the silence that falls on the listeners when +the story comes to an end.</p> + +<p>In all early literature it is hard to keep the story within limits, to +observe the proportion of the <i>Odyssey</i> between strong drama and +romance. The history of the early heroic literature of the Teutonic +tongues, and of the epics of old France, comes to an end in the +victory of various romantic schools, and of various restricted and +one-sided forms of narrative. From within and without, from the +resources of native mythology and superstition and from the +fascination of Welsh and Arabian stories, there came the temptation to +forget the study of character, and to part with an inheritance of +tragic fables, for the sake of vanities, wonders, and splendours among +which character and the tragic motives lost their pre-eminent interest +and their old authority over poets and audience.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="I.III"></a>III</h3> + +<h3>ROMANTIC MYTHOLOGY</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Between</span> the dramatic qualities of epic poetry and the myths and +fancies of popular tradition there must inevitably be a conflict and a +discrepancy. The greatest scenes of the <i>Iliad</i> and the <i>Odyssey</i> have +little to do with myth. Where the characters are most vividly realised +there is no room for the lighter kinds of fable; the epic "machines" +are superfluous. Where all the character of Achilles is displayed in +the interview with Priam, all his generosity, all his passion and +unreason, the imagination refuses to be led away by anything else from +looking on and listening. The presence of Hermes, Priam's guide, is +forgotten. Olympus cannot stand against the spell of words like those +of Priam and Achilles; it vanishes like a parched scroll. In the great +scene in the other poem where the disguised Odysseus talks with +Penelope, but will not make himself known to her for fear of spoiling +his plot, there is just as little opportunity for any intervention of +the Olympians. "Odysseus pitied his wife as she wept, but his eyes +were firm as horn or steel, unwavering in his eyelids, and with art he +concealed his tears.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a>"</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> +<p>In passages like these the epic poet gets clear away from the cumbrous +inheritance of traditional fancies and stories. In other places he is +inevitably less strong and self-sustained; he has to speak of the gods +of the nation, or to work into his large composition some popular and +improbable histories. The result in Homer is something like the result +in Shakespeare, when he has a more than usually childish or +old-fashioned fable to work upon. A story like that of the <i>Three +Caskets</i> or the <i>Pound of Flesh</i> is perfectly consistent with itself +in its original popular form. It is inconsistent with the form of +elaborate drama, and with the lives of people who have souls of their +own, like Portia or Shylock. Hence in the drama which uses the popular +story as its ground-plan, the story is never entirely reduced into +conformity with the spirit of the chief characters. The caskets and +the pound of flesh, in despite of all the author's pains with them, +are imperfectly harmonised; the primitive and barbarous imagination in +them retains an inconvenient power of asserting its discordance with +the principal parts of the drama. Their unreason is of no great +consequence, yet it is something; it is not quite kept out of sight.</p> + +<p>The epic poet, at an earlier stage of literature than Shakespeare, is +even more exposed to this difficulty. Shakespeare was free to take his +plots where he chose, and took these old wives' tales at his own risk. +The epic poet has matter of this sort forced upon him. In his +treatment of it, it will be found that ingenuity does not fail him, +and that the transition from the unreasonable or old-fashioned part of +his work to the modern and dramatic part is cunningly worked out. "He +gets over the unreason by the grace and skill of his handling,"<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> +says Aristotle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> of a critical point in the "machinery" of the +<i>Odyssey</i>, where Odysseus is carried ashore on Ithaca in his sleep. +There is a continual play in the <i>Iliad</i> and <i>Odyssey</i> between the +wonders of mythology and the spirit of the drama. In this, as in other +things, the Homeric poems observe the mean: the extremes may be found +in the heroic literature of other nations; the extreme of marvellous +fable in the old Irish heroic legends, for example; the extreme of +plainness and "soothfastness" in the old English lay of <i>Maldon</i>. In +some medieval compositions, as in <i>Huon of Bordeaux</i>, the two extremes +are brought together clumsily and without harmony. In other medieval +works again it is possible to find something like the Homeric +proportion—the drama of strong characters, taking up and transforming +the fanciful products of an earlier world, the inventions of minds not +deeply or especially interested in character.</p> + +<p>The defining and shaping of myths in epic poetry is a process that +cannot go on in a wholly simple and unreflecting society. On the +contrary, this process means that the earlier stages of religious +legend have been succeeded by a time of criticism and selection. It is +hard on the old stories of the gods when men come to appreciate the +characters of Achilles and Odysseus. The old stories are not all of +equal value and authority; they cannot all be made to fit in with the +human story; they have to be tested, and some have to be rejected as +inconvenient. The character of the gods is modified under the +influence of the chief actors in the drama. Agamemnon, Diomede, +Odysseus, Ajax, and Achilles set the standard by which the gods are +judged. The Homeric view of the gods is already more than half-way to +the view of a modern poet. The gods lose their old tyranny and their +right to the steam of sacrifice as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> they gain their new poetical +empire, from which they need not fear to be banished; not, at any +rate, for any theological reasons.</p> + +<p>In Shakespearean drama, where each man is himself, with his own +character and his own fortune to make, there is small scope for any +obvious Divine interposition in the scene. The story of human actions +and characters, the more fully it is developed, leaves the less +opportunity for the gods to interfere in it. Something of this sort +was felt by certain medieval historians; they found it necessary to +begin with an apologetic preface explaining the long-suffering of God, +who has given freedom to the will of man to do good or evil. It was +felt to be on the verge of impiety to think of men as left to +themselves and doing what they pleased. Those who listen to a story +might be tempted to think of the people in it as self-sufficient and +independent powers, trespassing on the domain of Providence. A pious +exculpation was required to clear the author of blame.<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a></p> + +<p>In the <i>Iliad</i> this scrupulous conscience has less need to deliver +itself. The gods are not far away;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> the heroes are not left alone. But +the poet has already done much to reduce the immediate power of the +gods, not by excluding them from the action, certainly, nor by any +attenuation of their characters into allegory, but by magnifying and +developing the characters of men. In many occasional references it +would seem that an approach was being made to that condition of mind, +at ease concerning the gods, so common in the North, in Norway and +Iceland, in the last days of heathendom. There is the great speech of +Hector to Polydamas—"we defy augury"<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a>—there is the speech of +Apollo himself to Aeneas<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> about those who stand up for their own +side, putting trust in their own strength. But passages like these do +not touch closely on the relations of gods and men as they are +depicted in the story. As so depicted, the gods are not shadowy or +feeble abstractions and personifications; yet they are not of the +first value to the poem, they do not set the tone of it.</p> + +<p>They are subsidiary, like some other of the most beautiful things in +the poem; like the similes of clouds and winds, like the pictures on +the Shield. They are there because the whole world is included in epic +poetry; the heroes, strong in themselves as they could be if they were +left alone in the common day, acquire an additional strength and +beauty from their fellowship with the gods. Achilles talking with the +Embassy is great; he is great in another way when he stands at the +trench with the flame of Athena on his head. These two scenes belong +to two different kinds of imagination. It is because the first is +there that the second takes effect. It is the hero that gives meaning +and glory to the light of the goddess. It is of some importance that +it is Achilles, and not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> another, that here is crowned with the light +of heaven and made terrible to his enemies.</p> + +<p>There is a double way of escape for young nations from their outgrown +fables and mythologies. They start with enormous, monstrous, and +inhuman beliefs and stories. Either they may work their way out of +them, by gradual rejection of the grosser ingredients, to something +more or less positive and rational; or else they may take up the myths +and transmute them into poetry.</p> + +<p>The two processes are not independent of one another. Both are found +together in the greater artists of early times, in Homer most notably; +and also in artists less than Homer; in the poem of <i>Beowulf</i>, in the +stories of Sigfred and Brynhild.</p> + +<p>There are further, under the second mode, two chief ways of operation +by which the fables of the gods may be brought into poetry.</p> + +<p>It is possible to take them in a light-hearted way and weave them into +poetical stories, without much substance or solemnity; enhancing the +beauty that may be inherent in any part of the national legend, and +either rejecting the scandalous chronicle of Olympus or Asgard +altogether, or giving it over to the comic graces of levity and irony, +as in the Phaeacian story of Ares and Aphrodite, wherein the Phaeacian +poet digressed from his tales of war in the spirit of Ariosto, and +with an equally accomplished and elusive defiance of censure.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a></p> + +<p>There is another way in which poetry may find room for fable.</p> + +<p>It may treat the myths of the gods as material for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> the religious or +the ethical imagination, and out of them create ideal characters, +analogous in poetry to the ideal divine or heroic figures of painting +and sculpture. This is the kind of imagination in virtue of which +modern poets are best able to appropriate the classical mythology; but +this modern imagination is already familiar to Homer, and that not +only in direct description, as in the description of the majesty of +Zeus, but also, more subtly, in passages where the character of the +divinity is suggested by comparison with one of the human personages, +as when Nausicaa is compared to Artemis,<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> a comparison that +redounds not less to the honour of the goddess than of Nausicaa.</p> + +<p>In Icelandic literature there are many instances of the trouble +arising from inconsiderate stories of the gods, in the minds of people +who had got beyond the more barbarous kind of mythology. They took the +boldest and most conclusive way out of the difficulty; they made the +barbarous stories into comedy. The <i>Lokasenna</i>, a poem whose author +has been called the Aristophanes of the Western Islands, is a dramatic +piece in which Loki, the Northern Satan, appearing in the house of the +gods, is allowed to bring his railing accusations against them and +remind them of their doings in the "old days." One of his victims +tells him to "let bygones be bygones." The gods are the subject of +many stories that are here raked up against them, stories of another +order of belief and of civilisation than those in which Odin appears +as the wise and sleepless counsellor. This poem implies a great amount +of independence in the author of it. It is not a satire on the gods; +it is pure comedy; that is, it belongs to a type of literature which +has risen above prejudices and which has an air of levity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> because it +is pure sport—or pure art—and therefore is freed from bondage to +the matter which it handles. This kind of invention is one that tests +the wit of its audience. A serious-minded heathen of an older school +would no doubt have been shocked by the levity of the author's manner. +Not much otherwise would the poem have affected a serious adversary of +heathendom, or any one whose education had been entirely outside of +the circle of heathen or mythological tradition. An Englishman of the +tenth century, familiar with the heroic poetry of his own tongue, +would have thought it indecent. If chance had brought such an one to +hear this <i>Lokasenna</i> recited at some entertainment in a great house +of the Western Islands, he might very well have conceived the same +opinion of his company and their tastes in literature as is ascribed +by Bossu to Ulysses among the Phaeacians.</p> + +<p>This genius for comedy is shown in other Icelandic poems. As soon as +the monstrosities of the old traditions were felt to be monstrous, +they were overcome (as Mr. Carlyle has shown) by an appreciation of +the fun of them, and so they ceased to be burdensome. It is something +of this sort that has preserved old myths, for amusement, in popular +tales all over the world. The Icelandic poets went further, however, +than most people in their elaborate artistic treatment of their myths. +There is with them more art and more self-consciousness, and they give +a satisfactory and final poetical shape to these things, extracting +pure comedy from them.</p> + +<p>The perfection of this ironical method is to be found in the <i>Edda</i>, a +handbook of the Art of Poetry, written in the thirteenth century by a +man of liberal genius, for whom the Æsir were friends of the +imagination, without any prejudice to the claims of the Church<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> or of +his religion. In the view of Snorri Sturluson, the old gods are exempt +from any touch of controversy. Belief has nothing to do with them; +they are free. It may be remembered that some of the greatest English +writers of the seventeenth century have come short of this security of +view, and have not scrupled to repeat the calumny of the missionaries +and the disputants against the ancient gods, that Jupiter and Apollo +were angels of the bottomless pit, given over to their own devices for +a season, and masking as Olympians.</p> + +<p>In this freedom from embarrassing and irrelevant considerations in +dealing with myth, the author of the <i>Edda</i> follows in his prose the +spirit of mythological poems three centuries older, in which, even +before the change of faith in the North, the gods were welcomed +without fear as sharing in many humorous adventures.</p> + +<p>And at the same time, along with this detached and ironical way of +thinking there is to be found in the Northern poetry the other, more +reverent mode of shaping the inherited fancies; the mode of Pindar, +rejecting the vain things fabled about the gods, and holding fast to +the more honourable things. The humours of Thor in the fishing for the +serpent and the winning of the hammer may be fairly likened to the +humours of Hermes in the Greek hymn. The <i>Lokasenna</i> has some likeness +to the Homeric description of the brawls in heaven. But in the poems +that refer to the death of Balder and the sorrow of the gods there is +another tone; and the greatest of them all, the <i>Sibyl's Prophecy</i>, is +comparable, not indeed in volume of sound, but in loftiness of +imagination, to the poems in which Pindar has taken up the myths of +most inexhaustible value and significance—the Happy Islands, the +Birth of Athena.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>The poet who lives in anything like an heroic or Homeric age has it in +his power to mingle the elements of mythology and of human +story—Phaeacia and Ithaca—in any proportion he pleases. As a matter +of fact, all varieties of proportion are to be found in medieval +documents. At the one extreme is the mythological romance and fantasy +of Celtic epic, and at the other extreme the plain narrative of human +encounters, in the old English battle poetry or the Icelandic family +histories. As far as one can judge from the extant poems, the old +English and old German poetry did not make such brilliant romance out +of mythological legend as was produced by the Northern poets. These +alone, and not the poets of England or Saxony, seem to have +appropriated for literature, in an Homeric way, the histories of the +gods. Myth is not wanting in old English or German poetry, but it does +not show itself in the same clear and delightful manner as in the +Northern poems of Thor, or in the wooing of Frey.</p> + +<p>Thus in different places there are different modes in which an +inheritance of mythical ideas may be appreciated and used. It may +become a treasury for self-possessed and sure-handed artists, as in +Greece, and so be preserved long after it has ceased to be adequate to +all the intellectual desires. It may, by the fascination of its +wealth, detain the minds of poets in its enchanted ground, and prevent +them from ever working their way through from myth to dramatic +imagination, as in Ireland.</p> + +<p>The early literature, and therewith the intellectual character and +aptitudes, of a nation may be judged by their literary use of +mythology. They may neglect it, like the Romans; they may neglect all +things for the sake of it, like the Celts; they may harmonise it, as +the Greeks did, in a system of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> imaginative creations where the +harmony is such that myth need never be felt as an encumbrance or an +absurdity, however high or far the reason may go beyond it in any +direction of art or science.</p> + +<p>At the beginning of modern literature there are to be found the +attempts of Irish and Welsh, of English and Germans, Danes and +Northmen, to give shape to myth, and make it available for literature. +Together with that, and as part of the same process, there is found +the beginning of historical literature in an heroic or epic form. The +results are various; but one thing may be taken as certain, that +progress in literature is most assured when the mythology is so far +under control as to leave room for the drama of epic characters; for +epic, as distinguished from romance.</p> + +<p>Now the fortunes of these people were such as to make this +self-command exceedingly difficult for them, and to let in an enormous +extraneous force, encouraging the native mythopoetic tendencies, and +unfavourable to the growth of epic. They had to come to an +understanding with themselves about their own heathen traditions, to +bring the extravagances of them into some order, so as to let the epic +heroes have free play. But they were not left to themselves in this +labour of bringing mythology within bounds; even before they had +fairly escaped from barbarism, before they had made a fair beginning +of civilisation and of reflective literature on their own account, +they were drawn within the Empire, into Christendom. Before their +imaginations had fully wakened out of the primeval dream, the +cosmogonies and theogonies, gross and monstrous, of their national +infancy, they were asked to have an opinion about the classical +mythology, as represented by the Latin poets; they were made +acquainted with the miracles of the lives of saints.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>More than all this, even, their minds were charmed away from the +labour of epic invention, by the spell of the preacher. The task of +representing characters—Waldere or Theodoric or Attila—was forgotten +in the lyrical rapture of devotion, in effusion of pathos. The +fascination of religious symbolism crept over minds that had hardly +yet begun to see and understand things as they are; and in all their +reading the "moral," "anagogical," and "tropological" significations +prevailed against the literal sense.</p> + +<p>One part of medieval history is concerned with the progress of the +Teutonic nations, in so far as they were left to themselves, and in so +far as their civilisation is home-made. The <i>Germania</i> of Tacitus, for +instance, is used by historians to interpret the later development of +Teutonic institutions. But this inquiry involves a good deal of +abstraction and an artificial limitation of view. In reality, the +people of Germania were never left to themselves at all, were never +beyond the influence of Southern ideas; and the history of the +influence of Southern ideas on the Northern races takes up a larger +field than the isolated history of the North. Nothing in the world is +more fantastic. The logic of Aristotle and the art of Virgil are +recommended to people whose chief men, barons and earls, are commonly +in their tastes and acquirements not very different from the suitors +in the <i>Odyssey</i>. Gentlemen much interested in raids and forays, and +the profits of such business, are confronted with a literature into +which the labours of all past centuries have been distilled. In a +society that in its native elements is closely analogous to Homer's +Achaeans, men are found engaged in the study of Boethius <i>On the +Consolation of Philosophy</i>, a book that sums up the whole course of +Greek philosophical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> speculation. Ulysses quoting Aristotle is an +anachronism; but King Alfred's translation of Boethius is almost as +much of a paradox. It is not easy to remain unmoved at the thought of +the medieval industry bestowed on authors like Martianus Capella <i>de +Nuptiis Philologiae</i>, or Macrobius <i>de Somnio Scipionis</i>. What is to +be said of the solemnity with which, in their pursuit of authoritative +doctrine, they applied themselves to extract the spiritual meaning of +Ovid's <i>Metamorphoses</i>, and appropriate the didactic system of the +<i>Art of Love</i>?</p> + +<p>In medieval literature, whatever there is of the Homeric kind has an +utterly different relation to popular standards of appreciation from +that of the Homeric poems in Greece. Here and there some care may be +taken, as by Charlemagne and Alfred, to preserve the national heroic +poetry. But such regard for it is rare; and even where it is found, it +comes far short of the honour paid to Homer by Alexander. English Epic +is not first, but one of the least, among the intellectual and +literary interests of King Alfred. Heroic literature is only one +thread in the weft of medieval literature.</p> + +<p>There are some curious documents illustrative of its comparative +value, and of the variety and complexity of medieval literature.</p> + +<p>Hauk Erlendsson, an Icelander of distinction in the fourteenth +century, made a collection of treatises in one volume for his own +amusement and behoof. It contains the <i>Volospá</i>, the most famous of +all the Northern mythical poems, the Sibyl's song of the doom of the +gods; it contains also the <i>Landnámabók</i>, the history of the +colonisation of Iceland; <i>Kristni Saga</i>, the history of the conversion +to Christianity; the history of <i>Eric the Red</i>, and <i>Fóstbræðra Saga</i>, +the story of the two sworn brethren, Thorgeir and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> Thormod the poet. +Besides these records of the history and the family traditions of +Iceland and Greenland, there are some mythical stories of later date, +dealing with old mythical themes, such as the life of Ragnar Lodbrok. +In one of them, the <i>Heidreks Saga</i>, are embedded some of the most +memorable verses, after <i>Volospá</i>, in the old style of Northern +poetry—the poem of the <i>Waking of Angantyr</i>. The other contents of +the book are as follows: geographical, physical, and theological +pieces; extracts from St. Augustine; the <i>History of the Cross</i>; the +<i>Description of Jerusalem</i>; the <i>Debate of Body and Soul</i>; +<i>Algorismus</i> (by Hauk himself, who was an arithmetician); a version of +the <i>Brut</i> and of <i>Merlin's Prophecy</i>; <i>Lucidarium</i>, the most popular +medieval handbook of popular science. This is the collection, to which +all the ends of the earth have contributed, and it is in strange and +far-fetched company like this that the Northern documents are found. +In Greece, whatever early transactions there may have been with the +wisdom of Egypt or Phoenicia, there is no such medley as this.</p> + +<p>Another illustration of the literary chaos is presented, even more +vividly than in the contents of Hauk's book, by the whalebone casket +in the British Museum. Weland the smith (whom Alfred introduced into +his <i>Boethius</i>) is here put side by side with the Adoration of the +Magi; on another side are Romulus and Remus; on another, Titus at +Jerusalem; on the lid of the casket is the defence of a house by one +who is shooting arrows at his assailants; his name is written over +him, and his name is <i>Ægili</i>,—Egil the master-bowman, as Weland is +the master-smith, of the Northern mythology. Round the two companion +pictures, Weland on the left and the Three Kings on the right, side by +side, there go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> wandering runes, with some old English verses about +the "whale," or walrus, from which the ivory for these engravings was +obtained. The artist plainly had no more suspicion than the author of +<i>Lycidas</i> that there was anything incorrect or unnatural in his +combinations. It is under these conditions that the heroic poetry of +Germania has been preserved; never as anything more than an accident +among an infinity of miscellaneous notions, the ruins of ancient +empires, out of which the commonplaces of European literature and +popular philosophy have been gradually collected.</p> + +<p>The fate of epic poetry was the same as that of the primitive German +forms of society. In both there was a progress towards independent +perfection, an evolution of the possibilities inherent in them, +independent of foreign influences. But both in Teutonic society, and +in the poetry belonging to it and reflecting it, this independent +course of life is thwarted and interfered with. Instead of independent +strong Teutonic national powers, there are the more or less Romanised +and blended nationalities possessing the lands that had been conquered +by Goths and Burgundians, Lombards and Franks; instead of Germania, +the Holy Roman Empire; instead of Epic, Romance; not the old-fashioned +romance of native mythology, not the natural spontaneous romance of +the Irish legends or the Icelandic stories of gods and giants, but the +composite far-fetched romance of the age of chivalry, imported from +all countries and literatures to satisfy the medieval appetite for +novel and wonderful things.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the stronger kind of poetry had still something to show, +before all things were overgrown with imported legend, and before the +strong enunciation of the older manner was put out of fashion by the +medieval clerks and rhetoricians.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="I.IV"></a>IV</h3> + +<h3>THE THREE SCHOOLS—TEUTONIC EPIC—FRENCH EPIC—THE ICELANDIC HISTORIES</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Teutonic heroic poetry was menaced on all hands from the earliest +times; it was turned aside from the national heroes by saints and +missionaries, and charmed out of its sterner moods by the spell of +wistful and regretful meditation. In continental Germany it appears to +have been early vanquished. In England, where the epic poetry was +further developed than on the Continent, it was not less exposed to +the rivalry of the ideas and subjects that belonged to the Church.</p> + +<p>The Anglo-Saxon histories of St. Andrew and St. Helen are as full of +romantic passages as those poems of the fourteenth century in which +the old alliterative verse is revived to tell the tale of Troy or of +the <i>Mort Arthur</i>. The national subjects themselves are not proof +against the ideas of the Church; even in the fragments of <i>Waldere</i> +they are to be found; and the poem of <i>Beowulf</i> has been filled, like +so much of the old English poetry, with the melancholy of the +preacher, and the sense of the vanity of earthly things. But the +influence of fantasy and pathos could not dissolve the strength of +epic beyond recovery, or not until it had done something to show<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> what +it was worth. Not all the subjects are treated in the romantic manner +of Cynewulf and his imitators. The poem of <i>Maldon</i>, written at the +very end of the tenth century, is firm and unaffected in its style, +and of its style there can be no question that it is heroic.</p> + +<p>The old Norse poetry was beyond the influence of most of the +tendencies and examples that corrupted the heroic poetry of the +Germans, and changed the course of poetry in England. It was not till +the day of its glory was past that it took to subjects like those of +Cynewulf and his imitators. But it was hindered in other ways from +representing the lives of heroes in a consistent epic form. If it knew +less of the miracles of saints, it knew more of the old mythology; and +though it was not, like English and German poetry, taken captive by +the preachers, it was stirred and thrilled by the beauty of its own +stories in a way that inclined to the lyrical rather than the epic +tone. Yet here also there are passages of graver epic, where the tone +is more assured and the composition more stately.</p> + +<p>The relation of the French epics to French romance is on the one side +a relation of antagonism, in which the older form gives way to the +newer, because "the newer song is sweeter in the ears of men." The +<i>Chanson de Geste</i> is driven out by poems that differ from it in +almost every possible respect; in the character of their original +subject-matter, in their verse, their rhetoric, and all their gear of +commonplaces, and all the devices of their art. But from another point +of view there may be detected in the <i>Chansons de Geste</i> no small +amount of the very qualities that were fatal to them, when the +elements were compounded anew in the poems of <i>Erec</i> and <i>Lancelot</i>.</p> + +<p>The French epics have many points of likeness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> with the Teutonic +poetry of <i>Beowulf</i> or <i>Finnesburh</i>, or of the Norse heroic songs. +They are epic in substance, having historical traditions at the back +of them, and owing the materials of their picture to no deliberate +study of authorities. They differ from <i>Beowulf</i> in this respect, +among others, that they are the poems of feudal society, not of the +simpler and earlier communities. The difference ought not to be +exaggerated. As far as heroic poetry is concerned, the difference lies +chiefly in the larger frame of the story. The kingdom of France in the +French epics is wider than the kingdom of Hrothgar or Hygelac. The +scale is nearer that of the <i>Iliad</i> than of the <i>Odyssey</i>. The +"Catalogue of the Armies sent into the Field" is longer, the mass of +fighting-men is more considerable, than in the epic of the older +school. There is also, frequently, a much fuller sense of the national +greatness and the importance of the defence of the land against its +enemies, a consciousness of the dignity of the general history, unlike +the carelessness with which the Teutonic poets fling themselves into +the story of individual lives, and disregard the historical +background. Generally, however, the Teutonic freedom and rebellious +spirit is found as unmistakably in the <i>Chansons de Geste</i> as in the +alliterative poems. Feudalism appears in heroic poetry, and indeed in +prosaic history, as a more elaborate form of that anarchy which is the +necessary condition of an heroic age. It does not deprive the poet of +his old subjects, his family enmities, and his adventures of private +war. Feudalism did not invent, neither did it take away, the virtue of +loyalty that has so large a place in all true epic, along with its +counterpart of defiance and rebellion, no less essential to the story. +It intensified the poetical value of both motives, but they are older +than the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> <i>Iliad</i>. It provided new examples of the "wrath" of injured +or insulted barons; it glorified to the utmost, it honoured as +martyrs, those who died fighting for their lord.<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p> + +<p>In all this it did nothing to change the essence of heroic poetry. The +details were changed, the scene was enlarged, and so was the number of +the combatants. But the details of feudalism that make a difference +between Beowulf, or the men of Attila, and the epic paladins of +Charlemagne in the French poems of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, +need not obscure the essential resemblance between one heroic period +and another.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, it is plain from the beginning that French epic had +to keep its ground with some difficulty against the challenge of +romantic skirmishers. In one of the earliest of the poems about +Charlemagne, the Emperor and his paladins are taken to the East by a +poet whom Bossu would hardly have counted "honest." In the poem of +<i>Huon of Bordeaux</i>, much later, the story of Oberon and the magic horn +has been added to the plot of a feudal tragedy, which in itself is +compact and free from extravagance. Between those extreme cases there +are countless examples of the mingling of the graver epic with more or +less incongruous strains. Sometimes there is magic, sometimes the +appearance of a Paynim giant, often the repetition of long prayers +with allusions to the lives of saints and martyrs, and throughout +there is the constant presence of ideas derived from homilies and the +common teaching of the Church. In some of these respects<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> the French +epics are in the same case as the old English poems which, like +<i>Beowulf</i>, show the mingling of a softer mood with the stronger; of +new conventions with old. In some respects they show a further +encroachment of the alien spirit.</p> + +<p>The English poem of <i>Maldon</i> has some considerable likeness in the +matter of its story, and not a little in its ideal of courage, with +the <i>Song of Roland</i>. A comparison of the two poems, in those respects +in which they are commensurable, will show the English poem to be +wanting in certain elements of mystery that are potent in the other.</p> + +<p>The <i>Song of Maldon</i> and the <i>Song of Roncesvalles</i> both narrate the +history of a lost battle, of a realm defended against its enemies by a +captain whose pride and self-reliance lead to disaster, by refusing to +take fair advantage of the enemy and put forth all his available +strength. Byrhtnoth, fighting the Northmen on the shore of the Essex +river, allows them of his own free will to cross the ford and come to +close quarters. "He gave ground too much to the adversary; he called +across the cold river and the warriors listened: 'Now is space granted +to you; come speedily hither and fight; God alone can tell who will +hold the place of battle.' Then the wolves of blood, the rovers, waded +west over Panta."</p> + +<p>This unnecessary magnanimity has for the battle of Maldon the effect +of Roland's refusal to sound the horn at the battle of Roncesvalles; +it is the tragic error or transgression of limit that brings down the +crash and ruin at the end of the day.</p> + +<p>In both poems there is a like spirit of indomitable resistance. The +close of the battle of Maldon finds the loyal companions of Byrhtnoth +fighting round his body, abandoned by the cowards who have run away,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +but themselves convinced of their absolute strength to resist to the +end.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Byrhtwold spoke and grasped his shield—he was an old +companion—he shook his ashen spear, and taught courage to +them that fought:—</p> + +<p>"Thought shall be the harder, heart the keener, mood shall +be the more, as our might lessens. Here our prince lies low, +they have hewn him to death! Grief and sorrow for ever on +the man that leaves this war-play! I am old of years, but +hence I will not go; I think to lay me down by the side of +my lord, by the side of the man I cherished."</p></div> + +<p>The story of Roncesvalles tells of an agony equally hopeless and +equally secure from every touch of fear.</p> + +<p>The <i>Song of Maldon</i> is a strange poem to have been written in the +reign of Ethelred the Unready. But for a few phrases it might, as far +as the matter is concerned, have been written before the conversion of +England, and although it is a battle in defence of the country, and +not a mere incident of private war, the motive chiefly used is not +patriotism, but private loyalty to the captain. Roland is full of the +spirit of militant Christendom, and there is no more constant thought +in the poem than that of the glory of France. The virtue of the +English heroes is the old Teutonic virtue. The events of the battle +are told plainly and clearly; nothing adventitious is brought in to +disturb the effect of the plain story; the poetical value lies in the +contrast between the grey landscape (which is barely indicated), the +severe and restrained description of the fighters, on the one hand, +and on the other the sublimity of the spirit expressed in the last +words of the "old companion." In the narrative of events there are no +extraneous beauties to break the overwhelming strength of the +eloquence in which the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> meaning of the whole thing is concentrated. +With Roland at Roncesvalles the case is different. He is not shown in +the grey light of the Essex battlefield. The background is more +majestic. There is a mysterious half-lyrical refrain throughout the +tale of the battle: "high are the mountains and dark the valleys" +about the combatants in the pass; they are not left to themselves like +the warriors of the poem of <i>Maldon</i>. It is romance, rather than epic +or tragedy, which in this way recognises the impersonal power of the +scene; the strength of the hills under which the fight goes on. In the +first part of the <i>Odyssey</i> the spell of the mystery of the sea is all +about the story of Odysseus; in the later and more dramatic part the +hero loses this, and all the strength is concentrated in his own +character. In the story of Roland there is a vastness and vagueness +throughout, coming partly from the numbers of the hosts engaged, +partly from the author's sense of the mystery of the Pyrenean valleys, +and, in a very large measure, from the heavenly aid accorded to the +champion of Christendom. The earth trembles, there is darkness over +all the realm of France even to the Mount St. Michael:</p> + +<p style="text-align: center"> +C'est la dulur pur la mort de Rollant.<br /> +</p> + +<p>St. Gabriel descends to take from the hand of Roland the glove that he +offers with his last confession; and the three great angels of the +Lord are there to carry his soul to Paradise.</p> + +<p>There is nothing like this in the English poem. The battle is fought +in the light of an ordinary day; there is nothing to greet the eyes of +Byrhtnoth and his men except the faces of their enemies.</p> + +<p>It is not hard to find in old English poetry descriptions less austere +than that of <i>Maldon</i>; there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> may be found in the French <i>Chansons de +Geste</i> great spaces in which there is little of the majestic light and +darkness of Roncesvalles. But it is hard to escape the conviction that +the poem of <i>Maldon</i>, late as it is, has uttered the spirit and +essence of the Northern heroic literature in its reserved and simple +story, and its invincible profession of heroic faith; while the poem +of Roncesvalles is equally representative of the French epic spirit, +and of the French poems in which the ideas common to every heroic age +are expressed with all the circumstances of the feudal society of +Christendom, immediately before the intellectual and literary +revolutions of the twelfth century. The French epics are full of omens +of the coming victory of romance, though they have not yet given way. +They still retain, in spite of their anticipations of the Kingdom of +the Grail, an alliance in spirit with the older Teutonic poetry, and +with those Icelandic histories that are the highest literary +expression of the Northern spirit in its independence of feudalism.</p> + +<p>The heroic age of the ancient Germans may be said to culminate, and +end, in Iceland in the thirteenth century. The Icelandic <i>Sagas</i>—the +prose histories of the fortunes of the great Icelandic houses—are the +last and also the finest expression and record of the spirit and the +ideas belonging properly to the Germanic race in its own right, and +not derived from Rome or Christendom. Those of the German nations who +stayed longest at home had by several centuries the advantage of the +Goths and Franks, and had time to complete their native education +before going into foreign subjects. The English were less exposed to +Southern influences than the continental Germans; the Scandinavian +nations less than the Angles and Saxons. In Norway particularly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> the +common German ideas were developed in a way that produced a code of +honour, a consciousness of duty, and a strength of will, such as had +been unknown in the German nations who were earlier called upon to +match themselves against Rome. Iceland was colonised by a picked lot +of Norwegians; by precisely those Norwegians who had this strength of +will in its highest degree.</p> + +<p>Political progress in the Middle Ages was by way of monarchy; but +strong monarchy was contrary to the traditions of Germania, and in +Norway, a country of great extent and great difficulties of +communication, the ambition of Harold Fairhair was resisted by numbers +of chieftains who had their own local following and their own family +dignity to maintain, in their firths and dales. Those men found Norway +intolerable through the tyranny of King Harold, and it was by them +that Iceland was colonised through the earlier colonies in the +west—in Scotland, in Ireland, in Shetland and the other islands.</p> + +<p>The ideas that took the Northern colonists to Iceland were the ideas +of Germania,—the love of an independent life, the ideal of the +old-fashioned Northern gentleman, who was accustomed to consideration +and respect from the freemen, his neighbours, who had authority by his +birth and fortune to look after the affairs of his countryside, who +would not make himself the tenant, vassal, or steward of any king. In +the new country these ideas were intensified and defined. The ideal of +the Icelandic Commonwealth was something more than a vague motive, it +was present to the minds of the first settlers in a clear and definite +form. The most singular thing in the heroic age of Iceland is that the +heroes knew what they were about. The heroic age of Iceland begins in +a commonwealth founded by a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> social contract. The society that is +established there is an association of individuals coming to an +agreement with one another to invent a set of laws and observe them. +Thus while Iceland on the one hand is a reactionary state, founded by +men who were turning their backs on the only possible means of +political progress, cutting themselves off from the world, and +adhering obstinately to forms of life with no future before them, on +the other hand this reactionary commonwealth, this fanatical +representative of early Germanic use and wont, is possessed of a +clearness of self-consciousness, a hard and positive clearness of +understanding, such as is to be found nowhere else in the Middle Ages +and very rarely at all in any polity.</p> + +<p>The prose literature of Iceland displays the same two contradictory +characters throughout. The actions described, and the customs, are +those of an early heroic age, with rather more than the common amount +of enmity and vengeance, and an unequalled power of resistance and +rebellion in the individual wills of the personages. The record of all +this anarchy is a prose history, rational and unaffected, seeing all +things in a dry light; a kind of literature that has not much to learn +from any humanism or rationalism, in regard to its own proper subjects +at any rate.</p> + +<p>The people of Iceland were not cut off from the ordinary European +learning and its commonplaces. They read the same books as were read +in England or Germany. They read St. Gregory <i>de Cura Pastorali</i>, they +read <i>Ovidius Epistolarum</i>, and all the other popular books of the +Middle Ages. In time those books and the world to which they belonged +were able to obtain a victory over the purity of the Northern +tradition and manners, but not until the Northern tradition had +exhausted itself, and the Icelandic polity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> began to break up. The +literature of the maturity of Iceland just before the fall of the +Commonwealth is a literature belonging wholly and purely to Iceland, +in a style unmodified by Latin syntax and derived from the colloquial +idiom. The matter is the same in kind as the common matter of heroic +poetry. The history represents the lives of adventurers, the rivalries +and private wars of men who are not ignorant of right and honour, but +who acknowledge little authority over them, and are given to choose +their right and wrong for themselves, and abide the consequences. This +common matter is presented in a form which may be judged on its own +merits, and there is no need to ask concessions from any one in +respect of the hard or unfavourable conditions under which this +literature was produced. One at least of the Icelandic Sagas is one of +the great prose works of the world—the story of Njal and his sons.</p> + +<p>The most perfect heroic literature of the Northern nations is to be +found in the country where the heroic polity and society had most room +and leisure; and in Iceland the heroic ideals of life had conditions +more favourable than are to be discovered anywhere else in history. +Iceland was a world divided from the rest, outside the orbit of all +the states of Europe; what went on there had little more than an ideal +relation to the course of the great world; it had no influence on +Europe, it was kept separate as much as might be from the European +storms and revolutions. What went on in Iceland was the progress in +seclusion of the old Germanic life—a life that in the rest of the +world had been blended and immersed in other floods and currents. +Iceland had no need of the great movements of European history.</p> + +<p>They had a humanism of their own, a rationalism of their own, gained +quite apart from the great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> European tumults, and gained prematurely, +in comparison with the rest of Europe. Without the labour of the +Middle Ages, without the storm and stress of the reform of learning, +they had the faculty of seeing things clearly and judging their values +reasonably, without superstition. They had to pay the penalty of their +opposition to the forces of the world; there was no cohesion in their +society, and when once the balance of power in the island was +disturbed, the Commonwealth broke up. But before that, they +accomplished what had been ineffectually tried by the poet of +<i>Beowulf</i>, the poet of <i>Roland</i>; they found an adequate form of heroic +narrative. Also in their use of this instrument they were led at last +to a kind of work that has been made nowhere else in the world, for +nowhere else does the form of heroic narrative come to be adapted to +contemporary events, as it was in Iceland, by historians who were +themselves partakers in the actions they described. Epic, if the Sagas +are epic, here coincides with autobiography. In the <i>Sturlunga Saga</i>, +written by Sturla, Snorri's nephew, the methods of heroic literature +are applied by an eye-witness to the events of his own time, and there +is no discrepancy or incongruity between form and matter. The age +itself takes voice and speaks in it; there is no interval between +actors and author. This work is the end of the heroic age, both in +politics and in literature. After the loss of Icelandic freedom there +is no more left of Germania, and the <i>Sturlunga Saga</i> which tells the +story of the last days of freedom is the last word of the Teutonic +heroic age. It is not a decrepit or imitative or secondary thing; it +is a masterpiece; and with this true history, this adaptation of an +heroic style to contemporary realities, the sequence of German heroic +tradition comes to an end.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h1>THE TEUTONIC EPIC</h1> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="II.I"></a>I</h3> + +<h3>THE TRAGIC CONCEPTION</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Of</span> the heroic poetry in the Teutonic alliterative verse, the history +must be largely conjectural. The early stages of it are known merely +through casual references like those of Tacitus. We know that to the +mind of the Emperor Julian, the songs of the Germans resembled the +croaking of noisy birds; but this criticism is not satisfactory, +though it is interesting. The heroes of the old time before Ermanaric +and Attila were not without their poets, but of what sort the poems +were in which their praises were sung, we can only vaguely guess. Even +of the poems that actually remain it is difficult to ascertain the +history and the conditions of their production. The variety of styles +discoverable in the extant documents is enough to prevent the easy +conclusion that the German poetry of the first century was already a +fixed type, repeated by successive generations of poets down to the +extinction of alliterative verse as a living form.</p> + +<p>After the sixth century things become a little clearer, and it is +possible to speak with more certainty. One thing at any rate of the +highest importance may be regarded as beyond a doubt. The passages in +which Jordanes tells of Suanihilda trampled to death<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> by the horses of +Ermanaric, and of the vengeance taken by her brothers Sarus and +Ammius, are enough to prove that the subjects of heroic poetry had +already in the sixth century, if not earlier, formed themselves +compactly in the imagination. If Jordanes knew a Gothic poem on +Ermanaric and the brothers of Suanihilda, that was doubtless very +different from the Northern poem of Sorli and Hamther, which is a +later version of the same story. But even if the existence of a Gothic +ballad of Swanhild were doubted,—and the balance of probabilities is +against the doubter,—it follows indisputably from the evidence that +in the time of Jordanes people were accustomed to select and dwell +upon dramatic incidents in what was accepted as history; the +appreciation of tragedy was there, the talent to understand a tragic +situation, to shape a tragic plot, to bring out the essential matter +in relief and get rid of irrelevant particulars.</p> + +<p>In this respect at any rate, and it is one of the most important, +there is continuity in the ancient poetry, onward from this early +date. The stories of Alboin in the Lombard history of Paulus Diaconus, +the meaning of which for the history of poetry is explained so +admirably in the Introduction to <i>Corpus Poeticum Boreale</i>, by Dr. +Vigfusson and Mr. York Powell, are further and more vivid +illustrations of the same thing. In the story of the youth of Alboin, +and the story of his death, there is matter of the same amount as +would suffice for one of the short epics of the kind we know,—a poem +of the same length as the Northern lay of the death of Ermanaric, of +the same compass as <i>Waltharius</i>,—or, to take another standard of +measurement, matter for a single tragedy with the unities preserved. +Further, there is in both of them exactly that resolute comprehension +and exposition of tragic meaning which is the virtue<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> of the short +epics. The tragic contradiction in them could not be outdone by Victor +Hugo. It is no wonder that the story of Rosamond and Albovine king of +the Lombards became a favourite with dramatists of different schools, +from the first essays of the modern drama in the <i>Rosmunda</i> of +Rucellai, passing by the common way of the novels of Bandello to the +Elizabethan stage. The earlier story of Alboin's youth, if less +valuable for emphatic tragedy, being without the baleful figure of a +Rosamond or a Clytemnestra, is even more perfect as an example of +tragic complication. Here again is the old sorrow of Priam; the slayer +of the son face to face with the slain man's father, and not in +enmity. In beauty of original conception the story is not finer than +that of Priam and Achilles; and it is impossible to compare the +stories in any other respect than that of the abstract plot. But in +one quality of the plot the Lombard drama excels or exceeds the story +of the last book of the <i>Iliad</i>. The contradiction is strained with a +greater tension; the point of honour is more nearly absolute. This +does not make it a better story, but it proves that the man who told +the story could understand the requirements of a tragic plot, could +imagine clearly a strong dramatic situation, could refrain from +wasting or obliterating the outline of a great story.</p> + +<p>The Lombards and the Gepidae were at war. Alboin, son of the Lombard +king Audoin, and Thurismund, son of the Gepid king Thurisvend, met in +battle, and Alboin killed Thurismund. After the battle, the Lombards +asked King Audoin to knight his son. But Audoin answered that he would +not break the Lombard custom, according to which it was necessary for +the young man to receive arms first from the king of some other +people. Alboin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> when he heard this set out with forty of the Lombards, +and went to Thurisvend, whose son he had killed, to ask this honour +from him. Thurisvend welcomed him, and set him down at his right hand +in the place where his son used to sit.</p> + +<p>Then follows the critical point of the action. The contradiction is +extreme; the reconciliation also, the solution of the case, is +perfect. Things are stretched to the breaking-point before the release +comes; nothing is spared that can possibly aggravate the hatred +between the two sides, which is kept from breaking out purely by the +honour of the king. The man from whom an infinite debt of vengeance is +owing, comes of his own will to throw himself on the generosity of his +adversary. This, to begin with, is hardly fair to simple-minded people +like the Gepid warriors; they may fairly think that their king is +going too far in his reading of the law of honour:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>And it came to pass while the servants were serving at the +tables, that Thurisvend, remembering how his son had been +lately slain, and calling to mind his death, and beholding +his slayer there beside him in his very seat, began to draw +deep sighs, for he could not withhold himself any longer, +and at last his grief burst forth in words. "Very pleasant +to me," quoth he, "is the seat, but sad enough it is to see +him that is sitting therein."<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></p></div> + +<p>By his confession of his thoughts the king gives an opening to those +who are waiting for it, and it is taken at once. Insult and rejoinder +break out, and it is within a hair's breadth of the irretrievable +plunge that the king speaks his mind. He is lord in that house, and +his voice allays the tumult; he takes the weapons of his son +Thurismund, and gives them to Alboin and sends him back in peace and +safety to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> his father's kingdom. It is a great story, even in a prose +abstract, and the strength of its tragic problem is invincible. It is +with strength like that, with a knowledge not too elaborate or minute, +but sound and clear, of some of the possibilities of mental conflict +and tragic contradiction, that heroic poetry first reveals itself +among the Germans. It is this that gives strength to the story of the +combat between Hildebrand and his son, of the flight of Walter and +Hildegund, of the death of Brynhild, of Attila and Gudrun. Some of the +heroic poems and plots are more simple than these. The battle of +Maldon is a fair fight without any such distressful circumstances as +in the case of Hildebrand or of Walter of Aquitaine. The adventures of +Beowulf are simple, also; there is suspense when he waits the attack +of the monster, but there is nothing of the deadly crossing of +passions that there is in other stories. Even in <i>Maldon</i>, however, +there is the tragic error; the fall and defeat of the English is +brought about by the over-confidence and over-generosity of Byrhtnoth, +in allowing the enemy to come to close quarters. In <i>Beowulf</i>, though +the adventures of the hero are simple, other less simple stories are +referred to by the way. One of these is a counterpart to the story of +the youth of Alboin and the magnanimity of Thurisvend. One of the most +famous of all the old subjects of heroic poetry was the vengeance of +Ingeld for the death of his father, King Froda. The form of this story +in <i>Beowulf</i> agrees with that of Saxo Grammaticus in preserving the +same kind of opposition as in the story of Alboin, only in this case +there is a different solution. Here a deadly feud has been put to rest +by a marriage, and the daughter of Froda's slayer is married to +Froda's son. But as in the Lombard history and in so many of the +stories of Iceland, this reconciliation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> is felt to be intolerable and +spurious; the need of vengeance is real, and it finds a spokesman in +an old warrior, who cannot forget his dead lord, nor endure the sight +of the new bride's kinsmen going free and wearing the spoils of their +victory. So Ingeld has to choose between his wife, wedded to him out +of his enemy's house, and his father, whom that enemy has killed. And +so everywhere in the remains, not too voluminous, of the literature of +the heroic age, one encounters this sort of tragic scheme. One of +those ancient plots, abstracted and written out fair by Saxo, is the +plot of <i>Hamlet</i>.</p> + +<p>There is not one of the old Northern heroic poems, as distinct from +the didactic and mythological pieces, that is without this tragic +contradiction; sometimes expressed with the extreme of severity, as in +the lay of the death of Ermanaric; sometimes with lyrical +effusiveness, as in the lament of Gudrun; sometimes with a mystery +upon it from the under-world and the kingdom of the dead, as in the +poems of Helgi, and of the daughter of Angantyr.</p> + +<p>The poem of the death of Ermanaric is a version of the story told by +Jordanes, which since his time had come to be attached to the cycle of +the Niblungs.</p> + +<p>Swanhild, the daughter of Sigurd and Gudrun, was wedded to Ermanaric, +king of the Goths. The king's counsellor wrought on his mind with +calumnies against the queen, and he ordered her to be trampled to +death under horses' feet, and so she died, though the horses were +afraid of the brightness of her eyes and held back until her eyes were +covered. Gudrun stirred up her sons, Sorli and Hamther, to go and +avenge their sister. As they set out, they quarrelled with their +base-born brother Erp, and killed him,—the tragic error in this +history, for it was the want of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> a third man that ruined them, and Erp +would have helped them if they had let him. In the hall of the Goths +they defy their enemy and hew down his men; no iron will bite in their +armour; they cut off the hands and feet of Ermanaric. Then, as happens +so often in old stories, they go too far, and a last insult alters the +balance against them, as Odysseus alters it at the leave-taking with +Polyphemus. The last gibe at Ermanaric stirs him as he lies, and he +calls on the remnant of the Goths to stone the men that neither sword +nor spear nor arrow will bring down. And that was the end of them.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"We have fought a good fight; we stand on slain Goths that +have had their fill of war. We have gotten a good report, +though we die to-day or to-morrow. No man can live over the +evening, when the word of the Fates has gone forth."</p> + +<p>There fell Sorli at the gable of the hall, and Hamther was +brought low at the end of the house.</p></div> + +<p>Among the Norse poems it is this one, the <i>Hamðismál</i>, that comes +nearest to the severity of the English <i>Maldon</i> poem. It is wilder and +more cruel, but the end attains to simplicity.</p> + +<p>The gap in <i>Codex Regius</i>, the "Elder" or "Poetic Edda," has destroyed +the poems midway between the beginning and end of the tragedy of +Sigfred and Brynhild, and among them the poem of their last meeting. +There is nothing but the prose paraphrase to tell what that was, but +the poor substitute brings out all the more clearly the strength of +the original conception, the tragic problem.</p> + +<p>After the gap in the manuscript there are various poems of Brynhild +and Gudrun, in which different views of the story are taken, and in +all of them the tragic contradiction is extreme: in Brynhild's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +vengeance on Sigurd, in Gudrun's lament for her husband slain by her +brothers, and in the later fortunes of Gudrun. In some of these poems +the tragedy becomes lyrical, and two kinds of imagination, epic and +elegiac, are found in harmony.</p> + +<p>The story of Helgi and Sigrun displays this rivalry of moods—a tragic +story, carried beyond the tragic stress into the mournful quiet of the +shadows.</p> + +<p>Helgi is called upon by Sigrun to help her against Hodbrodd, and save +her from a hateful marriage. Helgi kills Hodbrodd, and wins Sigrun; +but he has also killed Sigrun's father Hogni and her elder brother. +The younger brother Dag takes an oath to put away enmity, but breaks +his oath and kills Helgi.</p> + +<p>It is a story like all the others in which there is a conflict of +duties, between friendship and the duty of vengeance, a plot of the +same kind as that of Froda and Ingeld. Sigrun's brother is tried in +the same way as Ingeld in the story told by Saxo and mentioned in +<i>Beowulf</i>. But it does not end with the death of Helgi. Sigrun looks +for Helgi to come back in the hour of the "Assembly of Dreams," and +Helgi comes and calls her, and she follows him:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Thy hair is thick with rime, thou art wet with the dew of +death, thy hands are cold and dank."</p> + +<p>"It is thine own doing, Sigrun from Sevafell, that Helgi is +drenched with deadly dew; thou weepest cruel tears, thou +gold-dight, sunbright lady of the South, before thou goest +to sleep; every one of them falls with blood, wet and chill, +upon my breast. Yet precious are the draughts that are +poured for us, though we have lost both love and land, and +no man shall sing a song of lamentation though he see the +wounds on my breast, for kings' daughters have come among +the dead."</p> + +<p>"I have made thee a bed, Helgi, a painless bed, thou son of +the Wolfings. I shall sleep in thine arms, O king, as I +should if thou wert alive."</p></div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>This is something different from epic or tragedy, but it does not +interfere with the tragedy of which it is the end.</p> + +<p>The poem of the <i>Waking of Angantyr</i> is so filled with mystery and +terror that it is hard to find in it anything else. After the +<i>Volospá</i> it is the most wonderful of all the Northern poems.</p> + +<p>Hervor, daughter of Angantyr, is left alone to avenge her father and +her eleven brothers, killed by Arrow Odd before her birth. In her +father's grave is the sword of the Dwarfs that never is drawn in vain, +and she comes to his grave to find it. The island where he lies is +full of death-fires, and the dead are astir, but Hervor goes on. She +calls on her father and her brothers to help her:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Awake, Angantyr! It is Hervor that bids thee awake. Give me +the sword of the Dwarfs! Hervard! Hiorvard! Rani! Angantyr! +I bid you all awake!"</p></div> + +<p>Her father answers from the grave; he will not give up the sword, for +the forgers of it when it was taken from them put a curse on those who +wear it. But Hervor will not leave him until he has yielded to her +prayers, and at last she receives the sword from her father's +hands.<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a></p> + +<p>Although the poem of Hervor lies in this way "between the worlds" of +Life and Death,—the phrase is Hervor's own,—although the action is +so strange and so strangely encompassed with unearthly fire and +darkness, its root is not set in the dim borderland where the dialogue +is carried on. The root is tragic, and not fantastic, nor is there any +excess, nor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> anything strained beyond the limit of tragedy, in the +passion of Hervor.</p> + +<p>Definite imagination of a tragic plot, and sure comprehension of the +value of dramatic problems, are not enough in themselves to make a +perfect poem. They may go along with various degrees of imperfection +in particular respects; faults of diction, either tenuity or +extravagance of phrasing may accompany this central imaginative power. +Strength of plot is partly independent of style; it bears translation, +it can be explained, it is something that can be abstracted from the +body of a poem and still make itself impressive. The dramatic value of +the story of the death of Alboin is recognisable even when it is +stated in the most general terms, as a mere formula; the story of +<i>Waltharius</i> retains its life, even in the Latin hexameters; the plot +of <i>Hamlet</i> is interesting, even in Saxo; the story of the Niblungs, +even in the mechanical prose paraphrase. This gift of shaping a plot +and letting it explain itself without encumbrances is not to be +mistaken for the whole secret of the highest kind of poetry. But, if +not the whole, it is the spring of the whole. All the other gifts may +be there, but without this, though all but the highest kind of epic or +tragic art may be attainable, the very highest will not be attained.</p> + +<p>Aristotle may be referred to again. As he found it convenient in his +description of epic to insist on its dramatic nature, in his +description of tragedy it pleased him to lay emphasis on that part of +the work which is common to tragedy and epic—the story, the plot. It +may be remarked how well the barbarous poetry conforms to the pattern +laid down in Aristotle's description. The old German epic, in +<i>Hildebrand</i>, <i>Waldere</i>, <i>Finnesburh</i>, <i>Byrhtnoth</i>, besides all the +Northern lays of Sigurd, Brynhild, and Gudrun, is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> dramatic in its +method, letting the persons speak for themselves as much as may be. So +far it complies with Aristotle's delineation of epic. And further, all +this dramatic bent may be seen clearly to have its origin in the mere +story,—in the dramatic situation, in fables that might be acted by +puppets or in a dumb show, and yet be tragical. No analytic or +psychological interest in varieties of character—in +<span title="Greek: êthê">ηθη</span>—could have uttered the passion of Brynhild or of Gudrun. +Aristotle knew that psychological analysis and moral rhetoric were not +the authors of Clytemnestra or Oedipus. The barbarian poets are on a +much lower and more archaic level than the poets with whom Aristotle +is concerned, but here, where comparison is not meaningless nor +valueless, their imaginations are seen to work in the same sound and +productive way as the minds of Aeschylus or Sophocles, letting the +seed—the story in its abstract form, the mere plot—develop itself +and spring naturally into the fuller presentation of the characters +that are implied in it. It is another kind of art that studies +character in detail, one by one, and then sets them playing at chance +medley, and trusts to luck that the result will be entertaining.</p> + +<p>That Aristotle is confirmed by these barbarian auxiliaries is of no +great importance to Aristotle, but it is worth arguing that the +barbarous German imagination at an earlier stage, relatively, than the +Homeric, is found already possessed of something like the sanity of +judgment, the discrimination of essentials from accidents, which is +commonly indicated by the term classical. Compared with Homer these +German songs are prentice work; but they are begun in the right way, +and therefore to compare them with a masterpiece in which the same way +is carried out to its end is not unjustifiable.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="II.II"></a>II</h3> + +<h3>SCALE OF THE POEMS</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> following are the extant poems on native heroic themes, written in +one or other of the dialects of the Teutonic group, and in unrhymed +alliterative measures.</p> + +<p>(1) <i>Continental.</i>—The <i>Lay of Hildebrand</i> (<i>c.</i> <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 800), a Low +German poem, copied by High German clerks, is the only remnant of the +heroic poetry of the continental Germans in which, together with the +national metre, there is a national theme.</p> + +<p>(2) <i>English.</i>—The poems of this order in old English are <i>Beowulf</i>, +<i>Finnesburh</i>, <i>Waldere</i>, and <i>Byrhtnoth</i>, or the <i>Lay of Maldon</i>. +Besides these there are poems on historical themes preserved in the +Chronicle, of which <i>Brunanburh</i> is the most important, and two +dramatic lyrics, <i>Widsith</i> and <i>Deor</i>, in which there are many +allusions to the mythical and heroic cycles.</p> + +<p>(3) <i>Scandinavian and Icelandic.</i>—The largest number of heroic poems +in alliterative verse is found in the old Northern language, and in +manuscripts written in Iceland. The poems themselves may have come +from other places in which the old language of Norway was spoken, some +of them perhaps from Norway itself, many of them probably from those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +islands round Britain to which a multitude of Norwegian settlers were +attracted,—Shetland, the Orkneys, the Western Islands of +Scotland.<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a></p> + +<p>The principal collection is that of the manuscript in the King's +Library at Copenhagen (2365, 4<sup>o</sup>) generally referred to as <i>Codex +Regius</i> (R); it is this book, discovered in the seventeenth century, +that has received the inaccurate but convenient names of <i>Elder Edda</i>, +or <i>Poetic Edda</i>, or <i>Edda of Sæmund the Wise</i>, by a series of +miscalculations fully described in the preface to the <i>Corpus Poeticum +Boreale</i>. Properly, the name <i>Edda</i> belongs only to the prose treatise +by Snorri Sturluson.</p> + +<p>The chief contents of <i>Codex Regius</i> are a series of independent poems +on the Volsung story, beginning with the tragedies of <i>Helgi and +Swava</i> and <i>Helgi and Sigrun</i> (originally unconnected with the Volsung +legend), and going on in the order of events.</p> + +<p>The series is broken by a gap in which the poems dealing with some of +the most important parts of the story have been lost. The matter of +their contents is known from the prose paraphrase called <i>Volsunga +Saga</i>. Before the Volsung series comes a number of poems chiefly +mythological: the <i>Sibyl's Prophecy</i>, (Volospá); <i>the Wooing of Frey</i>, +or the <i>Errand of Skirnir</i>; the <i>Flyting of Thor and Woden</i> +(Harbarzlióð); <i>Thor's Fishing for the Midgarth Serpent</i> (Hymiskviða); +the <i>Railing of Loki</i> (Lokasenna); the <i>Winning of Thor's Hammer</i> +(Þrymskviða); the <i>Lay of Weland</i>. There are also some didactic poems, +chief among them being the gnomic miscellany under the title +<i>Hávamál</i>; while besides this there are others, like <i>Vafþrúðnismál</i>, +treating of mythical subjects in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> a more or less didactic and +mechanical way. There are a number of prose passages introducing or +linking the poems. The confusion in some parts of the book is great.</p> + +<p><i>Codex Regius</i> is not the only source; other mythic and heroic poems +are found in other manuscripts. The famous poem of the <i>Doom of +Balder</i> (Gray's "Descent of Odin"); the poem of the <i>Rescue of +Menglad</i>, the enchanted princess; the verses preserved in the +<i>Heiðreks Saga</i>, belonging to the story of Angantyr; besides the poem +of the <i>Magic Mill</i> (Grottasöngr) and the <i>Song of the Dart</i> (Gray's +"Fatal Sisters"). There are many fragmentary verses, among them some +from the <i>Biarkamál</i>, a poem with some curious points of likeness to +the English <i>Lay of Finnesburh</i>. A Swedish inscription has preserved +four verses of an old poem on Theodoric.</p> + +<p>Thus there is some variety in the original documents now extant out of +the host of poems that have been lost. One conclusion at least is +irresistible—that, in guessing at the amount of epic poetry of this +order which has been lost, one is justified in making a liberal +estimate. Fragments are all that we possess. The extant poems have +escaped the deadliest risks; the fire at Copenhagen in 1728, the +bombardment in 1807, the fire in the Cotton Library in 1731, in which +<i>Beowulf</i> was scorched but not burned. The manuscripts of <i>Finnesburh</i> +and <i>Maldon</i> have been mislaid; but for the transcripts taken in time +by Hickes and Hearne they would have been as little known as the songs +that the Sirens sang. The poor remnants of <i>Waldere</i> were found by +Stephens in two scraps of bookbinders' parchment.</p> + +<p>When it is seen what hazards have been escaped by those bits of +wreckage, and at the same time how distinct in character the several +poems are, it is plain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> that one may use some freedom in thinking of +the amount of this old poetry that has perished.</p> + +<p>The loss is partly made good in different ways: in the Latin of the +historians, Jordanes, Paulus Diaconus, and most of all in the +paraphrases, prose and verse, by Saxo Grammaticus; in Ekkehard's Latin +poem of <i>Waltharius</i> (<i>c.</i> <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 930); in the <i>Volsunga Saga</i>, which +has kept the matter of the lost poems of <i>Codex Regius</i> and something +of their spirit; in the <i>Thidreks Saga</i>, a prose story made up by a +Norwegian in the thirteenth century from current North German ballads +of the Niblungs; in the German poems of the twelfth and thirteenth +centuries, which, in a later form of the language and in rhyming +verse, have preserved at any rate some matters of tradition, some +plots of stories, if little of the peculiar manner and imagination of +the older poetry.</p> + +<p>The casual references to Teutonic heroic subjects in a vast number of +authors have been brought together in a monumental work, <i>die deutsche +Heldensage</i>, by Wilhelm Grimm (1829).</p> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Western Group</span></h3> + +<p style="text-align: center"><b><i>Hildebrand</i>, <i>Finnesburh</i>, <i>Waldere</i>, <i>Beowulf</i>, <i>Byrhtnoth</i></b></p> + +<p>The Western group of poems includes all those that are not +Scandinavian; there is only one among them which is not English, the +poem of <i>Hildebrand</i>. They do not afford any very copious material for +inferences as to the whole course and progress of poetry in the +regions to which they belong. A comparison of the fragmentary +<i>Hildebrand</i> with the fragments of <i>Waldere</i> shows a remarkable +difference<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> in compass and fulness; but, at the same time, the +vocabulary and phrases of <i>Hildebrand</i> declare that poem unmistakably +to belong to the same family as the more elaborate <i>Waldere</i>. +<i>Finnesburh</i>, the fragmentary poem of the lost Lambeth MS., seems +almost as far removed as <i>Hildebrand</i> from the more expansive and +leisurely method of <i>Waldere</i>; while <i>Waldere</i>, <i>Beowulf</i>, and the +poem of <i>Maldon</i> resemble one another in their greater ease and +fluency, as compared with the brevity and abruptness of <i>Hildebrand</i> +or <i>Finnesburh</i>. The documents, as far as they go, bear out the view +that in the Western German tongues, or at any rate in England, there +was a development of heroic poetry tending to a greater amplitude of +narration. This progress falls a long way short of the fulness of +Homer, not to speak of the extreme diffuseness of some of the French +<i>Chansons de Geste</i>. It is such, however, as to distinguish the +English poems, <i>Waldere</i>, <i>Beowulf</i>, and <i>Byrhtnoth</i>, very obviously +from the poem of <i>Hildebrand</i>. While, at the same time, the brevity of +<i>Hildebrand</i> is not like the brevity of the Northern poems. +<i>Hildebrand</i> is a poem capable of expansion. It is easy enough to see +in what manner its outlines might be filled up and brought into the +proportions of <i>Waldere</i> or <i>Beowulf</i>. In the Northern poems, on the +other hand, there is a lyrical conciseness, and a broken emphatic +manner of exposition, which from first to last prevented any such +increase of volume as seems to have taken place in the old English +poetry; though there are some poems, the <i>Atlamál</i> particularly, which +indicate that some of the Northern poets wished to go to work on a +larger scale than was generally allowed them by their traditions.</p> + +<p>In the Northern group there is a great variety in respect of the +amount of incident that goes to a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> single poem; some poems deal with a +single adventure, while others give an abstract of a whole heroic +history. In the Western poems this variety is not to be found. There +is a difference in this respect between <i>Hildebrand</i> and <i>Waldere</i>, +and still more, at least on the surface, between <i>Hildebrand</i> and +<i>Beowulf</i>; but nothing like the difference between the <i>Lay of the +Hammer</i> (Þrymskviða), which is an episode of Thor, and the <i>Lay of +Weland</i> or the <i>Lay of Brynhild</i>, which give in a summary way a whole +history from beginning to end.</p> + +<p><i>Hildebrand</i> tells of the encounter of father and son, Hildebrand and +Hadubrand, with a few references to the past of Hildebrand and his +relations to Odoacer and Theodoric. It is one adventure, a tragedy in +one scene.</p> + +<p><i>Finnesburh</i>, being incomplete at the beginning and end, is not good +evidence. What remains of it presents a single adventure, the fight in +the hall between Danes and Frisians. There is another version of the +story of <i>Finnesburh</i>, which, as reported in <i>Beowulf</i> (ll. 1068-1154) +gives a good deal more of the story than is given in the separate +<i>Finnesburh Lay</i>. This episode in <i>Beowulf</i>, where a poem of +<i>Finnesburh</i> is chanted by the Danish minstrel, is not to be taken as +contributing another independent poem to the scanty stock; the +minstrel's story is reported, not quoted at full length. It has been +reduced by the poet of <i>Beowulf</i>, so as not to take up too large a +place of its own in the composition. Such as it is, it may very well +count as direct evidence of the way in which epic poems were produced +and set before an audience; and it may prove that it was possible for +an old English epic to deal with almost the whole of a tragic history +in one sitting. In this case the tragedy is far less complex than the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +tale of the Niblungs, whatever interpretation may be given to the +obscure allusions in which it is preserved.</p> + +<p>Finn, son of Folcwalda, king of the Frisians, entertained Hnæf the +Dane, along with the Danish warriors, in the castle of Finnesburh. +There, for reasons of his own, he attacked the Danes; who kept the +hall against him, losing their own leader Hnæf, but making a great +slaughter of the Frisians.</p> + +<p>The <i>Beowulf</i> episode takes up the story at this point.</p> + +<p>Hnæf was slain in the place of blood. His sister Hildeburg, Finn's +wife, had to mourn for brother and son.</p> + +<p>Hengest succeeded Hnæf in command of the Danes and still kept the hall +against the Frisians. Finn was compelled to make terms with the Danes. +Hengest and his men were to live among the Frisians with a place of +their own, and share alike with Finn's household in all the gifts of +the king. Finn bound himself by an oath that Hengest and his men +should be free of blame and reproach, and that he would hold any +Frisian guilty who should cast it up against the Danes that they had +followed their lord's slayer.<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> Then, after the oaths, was held the +funeral of the Danish and the Frisian prince, brother and son of +Hildeburg the queen.</p> + +<p>Then they went home to Friesland, where Hengest stayed with Finn +through the winter. With the spring he set out, meaning vengeance; but +he dissembled and rendered homage, and accepted the sword the lord +gives his liegeman. Death came upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> Finn in his house; for the Danes +came back and slew him, and the hall was made red with the Frisian +blood. The Danes took Hildeburg and the treasure of Finn and carried +the queen and the treasure to Denmark.</p> + +<p>The whole story, with the exception of the original grievance or +grudge of the Frisian king, which is not explained, and the first +battle, which is taken as understood, is given in <i>Beowulf</i> as the +contents of one poem, delivered in one evening by a harper. It is more +complicated than the story of <i>Hildebrand</i>, more even than <i>Waldere</i>; +and more than either of the two chief sections of <i>Beowulf</i> taken +singly—"Beowulf in Denmark" and the "Fight with the Dragon." It is +far less than the plot of the long <i>Lay of Brynhild</i>, in which the +whole Niblung history is contained. In its distribution of the action, +it corresponds very closely to the story of the death of the Niblungs +as given by the <i>Atlakviða</i> and the <i>Atlamál</i>. The discrepancies +between these latter poems need not be taken into account here. In +each of them and in the <i>Finnesburh</i> story there is a double climax; +first the wrong, then the vengeance. <i>Finnesburh</i> might also be +compared, as far as the arrangement goes, with the <i>Song of Roland</i>; +the first part gives the treacherous attack and the death of the hero; +then comes a pause between the two centres of interest, followed in +the second part by expiation of the wrong.</p> + +<p>The story of <i>Finnesburh</i> is obscure in many respects; the tradition +of it has failed to preserve the motive for Finn's attack on his +wife's brother, without which the story loses half its value. +Something remains, nevertheless, and it is possible to recognise in +this episode a greater regard for unity and symmetry of narrative than +is to be found in <i>Beowulf</i> taken as a whole.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Lambeth poem of <i>Finnesburh</i> most probably confined itself to the +battle in the hall. There is no absolute proof of this, apart from the +intensity of its tone, in the extant fragment, which would agree best +with a short story limited, like <i>Hildebrand</i>, to one adventure. It +has all the appearance of a short lay, a single episode. Such a poem +might end with the truce of Finn and Hengest, and an anticipation of +the Danes' vengeance:</p> + +<p style="text-align: center"> +It is marvel an the red blood run not, as the rain does in the street.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Yet the stress of this adventure is not greater than that of Roland, +which does not end at Roncesvalles; it may be that the <i>Finnesburh</i> +poem went on to some of the later events, as told in the <i>Finnesburh</i> +abridgment in <i>Beowulf</i>.</p> + +<p>The story of Walter of Aquitaine as represented by the two fragments +of old English verse is not greatly inconsistent with the same story +in its Latin form of <i>Waltharius</i>. The Latin verses of <i>Waltharius</i> +tell the story of the flight of Walter and Hildegund from the house of +Attila, and of the treacherous attack on Walter by Gunther, king of +the Franks, against the advice, but with the unwilling consent, of +Hagen, his liegeman and Walter's friend. Hagen, Hildegund, and Walter +were hostages with Attila from the Franks, Burgundians, and +Aquitanians. They grew up together at the Court of Attila till +Gunther, son of Gibicho, became king of the Franks and refused tribute +to the Huns. Then Hagen escaped and went home. Walter and Hildegund +were lovers, and they, too, thought of flight, and escaped into the +forests, westward, with a great load of treasure, and some fowling and +fishing gear for the journey.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p>After they had crossed the Rhine, they were discovered by Hagen; and +Gunther, with twelve of the Franks, went after them to take the +Hunnish treasure: Hagen followed reluctantly. The pursuers came up +with Walter as he was asleep in a hold among the hills, a narrow green +place with overhanging cliffs all round, and a narrow path leading up +to it. Hildegund awakened Walter, and he went and looked down at his +adversaries. Walter offered terms, through the mediation of Hagen, but +Gunther would have none of them, and the fight began. The Latin poem +describes with great spirit how one after another the Franks went up +against Walter: Camelo (ll. 664-685), Scaramundus (686-724), +Werinhardus the bowman (725-755), Ekevrid the Saxon (756-780), who +went out jeering at Walter; Hadavartus (781-845), Patavrid (846-913), +Hagen's sister's son, whose story is embellished with a diatribe on +avarice; Gerwicus (914-940), fighting to avenge his companions and +restore their honour—</p> + +<p style="text-align: center"> +Is furit ut caesos mundet vindicta sodales;<br /> +</p> + +<p>but he, too, fell—</p> + +<p style="text-align: center"> +Exitiumque dolens, pulsabat calcibus arvum.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Then there was a breathing-space, before Randolf, the eighth of them, +made trial of Walter's defence (962-981). After him came Eleuther, +whose other name was Helmnod, with a harpoon and a line, and the line +was held by Trogus, Tanastus, and the king; Hagen still keeping aloof, +though he had seen his nephew killed. The harpoon failed; three +Frankish warriors were added to the slain; the king and Hagen were +left (l. 1060).</p> + +<p>Gunther tried to draw Hagen into the fight. Hagen refused at first, +but gave way at last, on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> account of the slaying of his nephew. He +advised a retreat for the night, and an attack on Walter when he +should have left the fastness. And so the day ended.</p> + +<p>Walter and Hildegund took turns to watch, Hildegund singing to awaken +Walter when his turn came. They left their hold in the morning; but +they had not gone a mile when Hildegund, looking behind, saw two men +coming down a hill after them. These were Gunther and Hagen, and they +had come for Walter's life. Walter sent Hildegund with the horse and +its burden into the wood for safety, while he took his stand on rising +ground. Gunther jeered at him as he came up; Walter made no answer to +him, but reproached Hagen, his old friend. Hagen defended himself by +reason of the vengeance due for his nephew; and so they fought, with +more words of scorn. Hagen lost his eye, and Gunther his leg, and +Walter's right hand was cut off by Hagen; and "this was their sharing +of the rings of Attila!"—</p> + +<p style="text-align: center"> +Sic, sic, armillas partiti sunt Avarenses (l. 1404).<br /> +</p> + +<p>Walter and Hildegund were king and queen of Aquitaine, but of his +later wars and victories the tale has no more to tell.</p> + +<p>Of the two old English fragments of this story the first contains part +of a speech of Hildegund<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> encouraging Walter.</p> + +<p>Its place appears to be in the pause of the fight, when the Frankish +champions have been killed, and Gunther and Hagen are alone. The +speech is rhetorical: "Thou hast the sword Mimming, the work of +Weland, that fails not them that wield it. Be of good courage, captain +of Attila; never didst thou draw back to thy hold for all the strokes +of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> foeman; nay, my heart was afraid because of thy rashness. Thou +shalt break the boast of Gunther; he came on without a cause, he +refused the offered gifts; he shall return home empty-handed, if he +return at all." That is the purport of it.</p> + +<p>The second fragment is a debate between Gunther and Walter. It begins +with the close of a speech of Gunther (Guðhere) in which there are +allusions to other parts of the heroic cycle, such as are common in +<i>Beowulf</i>.</p> + +<p>The allusion here is to one of the adventures of Widia, Weland's son; +how he delivered Theodoric from captivity, and of Theodoric's +gratitude. The connexion is obscure, but the reference is of great +value as proving the resemblance of narrative method in <i>Waldere</i> and +<i>Beowulf</i>, not to speak of the likeness to the Homeric way of quoting +old stories. Waldere answers, and this is the substance of his +argument: "Lo, now, Lord of the Burgundians, it was thy thought that +Hagena's hand should end my fighting. Come then and win my corselet, +my father's heirloom, from the shoulders weary of war."<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a></p> + +<p>The fragment closes with a pious utterance of submission to heaven, by +which the poem is shown to be of the same order as <i>Beowulf</i> in this +respect also, as well as others, that it is affected by a turn for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +edification, and cannot stand as anything like a pure example of the +older kind of heroic poetry. The phrasing here is that of the +Anglo-Saxon secondary poems; the common religious phrasing that came +into vogue and supplemented the old heathen poetical catch-words.</p> + +<p>The style of <i>Waldere</i> makes it probable that the action of the story +was not hurried unduly. If the author kept the same proportion +throughout, his poem may have been almost as long as <i>Waltharius</i>. It +is probable that the fight among the rocks was described in detail; +the <i>Maldon</i> poem may show how such a subject could be managed in old +English verse, and how the matter of <i>Waltharius</i> may have been +expressed in <i>Waldere</i>. Roughly speaking, there is about as much +fighting in the three hundred and twenty-five lines of <i>Maldon</i> as in +double the number of hexameters in <i>Waltharius</i>; but the <i>Maldon</i> poem +is more concise than the extant fragments of <i>Waldere</i>. <i>Waldere</i> may +easily have taken up more than a thousand lines.</p> + +<p>The Latin and the English poems are not in absolute agreement. The +English poet knew that Guðhere, Guntharius, was Burgundian, not Frank; +and an expression in the speech of Hildegyth suggests that the fight +in the narrow pass was not so exact a succession of single combats as +in <i>Waltharius</i>.</p> + +<p>The poem of <i>Maldon</i> is more nearly related in its style to <i>Waldere</i> +and <i>Beowulf</i> than to the <i>Finnesburh</i> fragment. The story of the +battle has considerable likeness to the story of the fight at +Finnesburh. The details, however, are given in a fuller and more +capable way, at greater length.</p> + +<p><i>Beowulf</i> has been commonly regarded as exceptional, on account of its +length and complexity, among the remains of the old Teutonic poetry. +This<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> view is hardly consistent with a right reading of <i>Waldere</i>, or +of <i>Maldon</i> either, for that matter. It is not easy to make any great +distinction between <i>Beowulf</i> and <i>Waldere</i> in respect of the +proportions of the story. The main action of <i>Beowulf</i> is comparable +in extent with the action of <i>Waltharius</i>. The later adventure of +<i>Beowulf</i> has the character of a sequel, which extends the poem, to +the detriment of its proportions, but without adding any new element +of complexity to the epic form. Almost all the points in which the +manner of <i>Beowulf</i> differs from that of <i>Finnesburh</i> may be found in +<i>Waldere</i> also, and are common to <i>Waldere</i> and <i>Beowulf</i> in +distinction from <i>Hildebrand</i> and <i>Finnesburh</i>. The two poems, the +poem of <i>Beowulf</i> and the fragments of <i>Waldere</i>, seem to be alike in +the proportion they allow to dramatic argument, and in their manner of +alluding to heroic matters outside of their own proper stories, not to +speak of their affinities of ethical tone and sentiment.</p> + +<p>The time of the whole action of <i>Beowulf</i> is long. The poem, however, +falls naturally into two main divisions—<i>Beowulf in Denmark</i>, and the +<i>Death of Beowulf</i>. If it is permissible to consider these for the +present as two separate stories, then it may be affirmed that in none +of the stories preserved in the old poetic form of England and the +German Continent is there any great length or complexity. +<i>Hildebrand</i>, a combat; <i>Finnesburh</i>, a defence of a house; <i>Waldere</i>, +a champion beset by his enemies; <i>Beowulf in Denmark</i>, the hero as a +deliverer from pests; <i>Beowulf's Death</i> in one action; <i>Maldon</i> the +last battle of an English captain; these are the themes, and they are +all simple. There is more complexity in the story of <i>Finnesburh</i>, as +reported in <i>Beowulf</i>, than in all the rest; but even that story +appears to have observed as much as possible the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> unity of action. The +epic singer at the court of the Dane appears to have begun, not with +the narrative of the first contest, but immediately after that, +assuming that part of the story as known, in order to concentrate +attention on the vengeance, on the penalty exacted from Finn the +Frisian for his treachery to his guests.</p> + +<p>Some of the themes may have less in them than others, but there is no +such variety of scale among them as will be found in the Northern +poems. There seems to be a general agreement of taste among the +Western German poets and audiences, English and Saxon, as to the right +compass of an heroic lay. When the subject was a foreign one, as in +the <i>Hêliand</i>, in the poems of <i>Genesis</i> and <i>Exodus</i>, in <i>Andreas</i>, +or <i>Elene</i>, there might be room for the complexity and variety of the +foreign model. The poem of <i>Judith</i> may be considered as a happy +instance in which the foreign document has of itself, by a +pre-established harmony, conformed to an old German fashion. In the +original story of <i>Judith</i> the unities are observed in the very degree +that was suited to the ways of the Anglo-Saxon poetry. It is hazardous +to speak generally of a body of poetry so imperfectly represented in +extant literature, but it is at any rate permissible to say that the +extant heroic poems, saved out of the wreck of the Western Teutonic +poetry, show a strong regard for unity of action, in every case except +that of <i>Beowulf</i>; while in that case there are two stories—a story +and a sequel—each observing a unity within its own limit.</p> + +<p>Considered apart from the Northern poems, the poems of England and +Germany give indication of a progress in style from a more archaic and +repressed, to a more developed and more prolix kind of narrative. The +difference is considerable between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> <i>Hildebrand</i> and <i>Waldere</i>, +between <i>Finnesburh</i> and <i>Beowulf</i>.</p> + +<p>It is the change and development in style, rather than any increase in +the complexity of the themes, that accounts for the difference in +scale between the shorter and the longer poems.</p> + +<p>For the natural history of poetical forms this point is of the highest +importance. The Teutonic poetry shows that epic may be developed out +of short lays through a gradual increase of ambition and of eloquence +in the poets who deal with common themes. There is no question here of +the process of agglutination and contamination whereby a number of +short lays are supposed to be compounded into an epic poem. Of that +process it may be possible to find traces in <i>Beowulf</i> and elsewhere. +But quite apart from that, there is the process by which an archaic +stiff manner is replaced by greater freedom, without any loss of unity +in the plot. The story of Walter of Aquitaine is as simple as the +story of Hildebrand. The difference between <i>Hildebrand</i> and <i>Waldere</i> +is the difference between an archaic and an accomplished mode of +narrative, and this difference is made by a change in spirit and +imagination, not by a process of agglutination. To make the epic of +<i>Waldere</i> it was not necessary to cobble together a number of older +lays on separate episodes. It was possible to keep the original plan +of the old story in its simplest irreducible form, and still give it +the force and magnificence of a lofty and eloquent style. It was for +the attainment of this pitch of style that the heroic poetry laboured +in <i>Waldere</i> and <i>Beowulf</i>, with at least enough success to make these +poems distinct from the rest in this group.</p> + +<p>With all the differences among them, the continental and English +poems, <i>Hildebrand</i>, <i>Waldere</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> and the rest, form a group by +themselves, with certain specific qualities of style distinguishing +them from the Scandinavian heroic poetry. The history of the +Scandinavian poetry is the converse of the English development. Epic +poetry in the North becomes more and more hopeless as time goes on, +and with some exceptions tends further and further away from the +original type which was common to all the Germans, and from which +those common forms and phrases have been derived that are found in the +"Poetic Edda" as well as in <i>Beowulf</i> or the <i>Hêliand</i>.</p> + +<p>In England before the old poetry died out altogether there was +attained a certain magnitude and fulness of narrative by which the +English poems are distinguished, and in virtue of which they may claim +the title <i>epic</i> in no transferred or distorted sense of the term. In +the North a different course is taken. There seems indeed, in the +<i>Atlamál</i> especially, a poem of exceptional compass and weight among +those of the North, to have been something like the Western desire for +a larger scale of narrative poem. But the rhetorical expansion of the +older forms into an equable and deliberate narrative was counteracted +by the still stronger affection for lyrical modes of speech, for +impassioned, abrupt, and heightened utterance. No epic solidity or +composure could be obtained in the fiery Northern verse; the poets +could not bring themselves into the frame of mind required for long +recitals; they had no patience for the intervals necessary, in epic as +in dramatic poetry, between the critical moments. They would have +everything equally full of energy, everything must be emphatic and +telling. But with all this, the Northern heroic poems are in some of +their elements strongly allied to the more equable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> and duller poems +of the West; there is a strong element of epic in their lyrical +dialogues and monologues, and in their composition and arrangement of +plots.</p> + + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Northern Group</span></h3> + +<p>In comparing the English and the Northern poems, it should be borne in +mind that the documents of the Northern poetry are hardly sufficient +evidence of the condition of Northern epic at its best. The English +documents are fragmentary, indeed, but at least they belong to a time +in which the heroic poetry was attractive and well appreciated; as is +proved by the wonderful freshness of the <i>Maldon</i> poem, late though it +is. The Northern poems seem to have lost their vogue and freshness +before they came to be collected and written down. They were +imperfectly remembered and reported; the text of them is broken and +confused, and the gaps are made up with prose explanations. The +fortunate preservation of a second copy of <i>Volospá</i>, in Hauk's book, +has further multiplied labours and perplexities by a palpable +demonstration of the vanity of copiers, and of the casual way in which +the strophes of a poem might be shuffled at random in different texts; +while the chief manuscript of the poems itself has in some cases +double and incongruous versions of the same passage.<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a></p> + +<p>The <i>Codex Regius</i> contains a number of poems that can only be called +<i>epic</i> in the widest and loosest sense of the term, and some that are +not <i>epic</i> in any sense at all. The gnomic verses, the mythological<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +summaries, may be passed over for the present; whatever illustrations +they afford of early beliefs and ideas, they have no evidence to give +concerning the proportions of stories. Other poems in the collection +come under the denomination of epic only by a rather liberal extension +of the term to include poems which are no more epic than dramatic, and +just as much the one as the other, like the poems of <i>Frey's Wooing</i> +and of the earlier exploits of Sigurd, which tell their story +altogether by means of dialogue, without any narrative passages at +all. The links and explanations are supplied, in prose, in the +manuscript. Further, among the poems which come nearer to the English +form of narrative poetry there is the very greatest variety of scale. +The amount of story told in the Northern poems may vary indefinitely +within the widest limits. Some poems contain little more than an idyll +of a single scene; others may give an abstract of a whole history, as +the whole Volsung story is summarised, for instance, in the <i>Prophecy +of Gripir</i>.</p> + +<p>Some of the poems are found in such a confused and fragmentary form, +with interruptions and interpolations, that, although it is possible +to make out the story, it is hardly possible to give any confident +judgment about the original proportions of the poems. This is +particularly the case with the poems in which the hero bears the name +of Helgi. The difficulties of these were partly appreciated, but not +solved, by the original editor.</p> + +<p>The differences of scale may be illustrated by the following summary +description, which aims at little more than a rough measurement of the +stories, for purposes of comparison with <i>Beowulf</i> and <i>Waldere</i>.</p> + +<p>The <i>Lay of Weland</i> gives a whole mythical history. How Weland and his +brother met with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> swan-maidens, how the swan-brides left them in +the ninth year, how Weland Smith was taken prisoner by King Nidad, and +hamstrung, and set to work for the king; and of the vengeance of +Weland. There are one hundred and fifty-nine lines, but in the text +there are many defective places. The <i>Lay</i> is a ballad history, +beginning at the beginning, and ending, not with the end of the life +of Weland, nor with the adventures of his son Widia, but with the +escape of Weland from the king, his enemy, after he had killed the +king's sons and put shame on the king's daughter Bodvild.</p> + +<p>In plan, the <i>Lay of Weland</i> is quite different from the lays of the +adventures of Thor, the <i>Þrymskviða</i> and the <i>Hymiskviða</i>, the songs +of the Hammer and the Cauldron. These are chapters, episodes, in the +history of Thor, not summaries of the whole matter, such as is the +poem of <i>Weland</i>.</p> + +<p>The stories of Helgi Hundingsbane, and of his namesakes, as has been +already remarked, are given in a more than usually complicated and +tangled form.</p> + +<p>At first everything is simple enough. A poem of the life of Helgi +begins in a way that promises a mode of narrative fuller and less +abrupt than the <i>Lay of Weland</i>. It tells of the birth of Helgi, son +of Sigmund; of the coming of the Norns to make fast the threads of his +destiny; of the gladness and the good hopes with which his birth was +welcomed. Then the <i>Lay of Helgi</i> tells, very briefly, how he slew +King Hunding, how the sons of Hunding made claims for recompense. "But +the prince would make no payment of amends; he bade them look for no +payment, but for the strong storm, for the grey spears, and for the +rage of Odin."<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> And the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> sons of Hunding were slain as their father +had been.</p> + +<p>Then the main interest begins, the story of Helgi and Sigrun.</p> + +<p>"A light shone forth from the Mountains of Flame, and lightnings +followed." There appeared to Helgi, in the air, a company of armed +maidens riding across the field of heaven; "their armour was stained +with blood, and light went forth from their spears." Sigrun from among +the other "ladies of the South" answered Helgi, and called on him for +help; her father Hogni had betrothed her, against her will, to +Hodbrodd, son of Granmar. Helgi summoned his men to save her from this +loathed wedding. The battle in which Helgi slew his enemies and won +the lady of the air is told very shortly, while disproportionate +length is given to an interlude of vituperative dialogue between two +heroes, Sinfiotli, Helgi's brother, and Gudmund, son of Granmar, the +warden of the enemy's coast; this passage of <i>Vetus Comoedia</i> takes up +fifty lines, while only six are given to the battle, and thirteen to +the meeting of Helgi and Sigrun afterwards. Here ends the poem which +is described in <i>Codex Regius</i> as the <i>Lay of Helgi</i> (<i>Helgakviða</i>). +The story is continued in the next section in a disorderly way, by +means of ill-connected quotations. The original editor, whether +rightly or wrongly, is quite certain that the <i>Lay of Helgi</i>, which +ends with the victory of Helgi over the unamiable bridegroom, is a +different poem from that which he proceeds to quote as the <i>Old Lay of +the Volsungs</i>, in which the same story is told. In this second version +there is at least one interpolation from a third; a stanza from a poem +in the "dialogue measure," which is not the measure in which the rest +of the story is told. It is uncertain what application<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> was meant to +be given to the title <i>Old Lay of the Volsungs</i>, and whether the +editor included under that title the whole of his second version of +Helgi and Sigrun. For instance, he gives another version of the +railing verses of Sinfiotli, which he may or may not have regarded as +forming an essential part of his <i>Old Volsung Lay</i>. He distinguishes +it at any rate from the other "Flyting," which he definitely and by +name ascribes to <i>Helgakviða</i>.</p> + +<p>It is in this second version of the story of Helgi that the tragedy is +worked out. Helgi slays the father of Sigrun in his battle against the +bridegroom's kindred: Sigrun's brother takes vengeance. The space is +scant enough for all that is told in it; scant, that is to say, in +comparison with the space of the story of Beowulf; though whether the +poem loses, as poetry, by this compression is another matter.</p> + +<p>It is here, in connexion with the second version, that the tragedy is +followed by the verses of the grief of Sigrun, and the return of Helgi +from the dead; the passage of mystery, the musical close, in which the +tragic idea is changed into something less distinct than tragedy, yet +without detriment to the main action.</p> + +<p>Whatever may be the critical solution of the textual problems of these +<i>Lays</i>, it is impossible to get out of the text any form of narrative +that shall resemble the English mode. Even where the story of Helgi is +slowest, it is quicker, more abrupt, and more lyrical even than the +<i>Lay of Finnesburh</i>, which is the quickest in movement of the English +poems.</p> + +<p>The story of Helgi and Sigrun is intelligible, and though incomplete, +not yet so maimed as to have lost its proportions altogether. Along +with it, however, in the manuscript there are other, even more +difficult fragments of poems about another Helgi, son of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> Hiorvard, +and his love for another Valkyria, Swava. And yet again there are +traces of a third Helgi, with a history of his own. The editors of +<i>Corpus Poeticum Boreale</i> have accepted the view of the three Helgis +that is indicated by the prose passages of the manuscript here; +namely, that the different stories are really of the same persons born +anew, "to go through the same life-story, though with varying +incidents."<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> "Helgi and Swava, it is said, were born again," is the +note in the manuscript. "There was a king named Hogni, and his +daughter was Sigrun. She was a Valkyria and rode over air and sea; +<i>she was Swava born again</i>." And, after the close of the story of +Sigrun, "it was a belief in the old days that men were born again, but +that is now reckoned old wives' fables. Helgi and Sigrun, it is +reported, were born anew, and then he was Helgi Haddingjaskati, and +she Kara, Halfdan's daughter, as is told in the songs of Kara, and she +was a Valkyria."</p> + +<p>It is still possible to regard the "old wives' fable" (which is a +common element in Celtic legend and elsewhere) as something +unessential in the poems of Helgi; as a popular explanation intended +to reconcile different myths attaching to the name. However that may +be, the poems of <i>Helgi and Swava</i> are so fragmentary and confused, +and so much has to be eked out with prose, that it is impossible to +say what the complete form and scale of the poetical story may have +been, and even difficult to be certain that it was ever anything else +than fragments. As they stand, the remains are like those of the story +of Angantyr; prominent passages quoted by a chronicler, who gives the +less important part of the story in prose, either because he has +forgotten the rest of the poem, or because the poem was made in that +way to begin with.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>Of the poem of <i>Kara</i>, mentioned in the manuscript, there is nothing +left except what can be restored by a conjectural transference of some +verses, given under the name of Helgi and Sigrun, to this third +mysterious plot. The conjectures are supported by the reference to the +third story in the manuscript, and by the fact that certain passages +which do not fit in well to the story of Helgi and Sigrun, where they +are placed by the collector, correspond with prose passages in the +late Icelandic romance of <i>Hromund Greipsson</i>,<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> in which Kara is +introduced.</p> + +<p>The story of Helgi and Swava is one that covers a large period of +time, though the actual remnants of the story are small. It is a +tragedy of the early Elizabethan type described by Sir Philip Sidney, +which begins with the wooing of the hero's father and mother. The hero +is dumb and nameless from his birth, until the Valkyria, Swava, meets +him and gives him his name, Helgi; and tells him of a magic sword in +an island, that will bring him victory.</p> + +<p>The tragedy is brought about by a witch who drives Hedin, the brother +of Helgi, to make a foolish boast, an oath on the Boar's head (like +the vows of the Heron or the Peacock, and the <i>gabs</i> of the Paladins +of France) that he will wed his brother's bride. Hedin confesses his +vanity to Helgi, and is forgiven, Helgi saying, "Who knows but the +oath may be fulfilled? I am on my way to meet a challenge."</p> + +<p>Helgi is wounded mortally, and sends a message to Swava to come to +him, and prays her after his death to take Hedin for her lord. The +poem ends with two short energetic speeches: of Swava refusing to have +any love but Helgi's; and of Hedin bidding farewell to Swava as he +goes to make amends, and avenge his brother.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> + +<p>These fragments, though their evidence tells little regarding epic +scale or proportions, are, at least, illustrations of the nature of +the stories chosen for epic narrative. The character of Hedin, his +folly and magnanimity, is in strong contrast to that of Dag, the +brother of Sigrun, who makes mischief in the other poem. The character +of Swava is a fainter repetition of Sigrun.</p> + +<p>Nothing very definite can be made out of any of the Helgi poems with +regard to the conventions of scale in narrative; except that the +collector of the poems was himself in difficulties in this part of his +work, and that he knew he had no complete poem to offer his readers, +except perhaps the <i>Helgakviða</i>.</p> + +<p>The poem named by the Oxford editors "The Long Lay of Brunhild" (i. p. +293) is headed in the manuscript "Qviða Sigurþar," <i>Lay of Sigurd</i>, +and referred to, in the prose gloss of <i>Codex Regius</i>, as "The Short +Lay of Sigurd."<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> This is one of the most important of the Northern +heroic lays, in every respect; and, among other reasons, as an example +of definite artistic calculation and study, a finished piece of work. +It shows the difference between the Northern and the Western standards +of epic measurement. The poem is one that gives the whole of the +tragedy in no longer space than is used in the poem of <i>Maldon</i> for +the adventures of a few hours of battle. There are 288 lines, not all +complete.</p> + +<p>There are many various modes of representation in the poem. The +beginning tells the earlier story of Sigurd and Brynhild in twenty +lines:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>It was in the days of old that Sigurd, the young Volsung, +the slayer of Fafni, came to the house of Giuki. He took the +troth-plight of two brothers; the doughty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> heroes gave oaths +one to another. They offered him the maid Gudrun, Giuki's +daughter, and store of treasure; they drank and took counsel +together many a day, Child Sigurd and the sons of Giuki; +until they went to woo Brynhild, and Sigurd the Volsung rode +in their company; he was to win her if he could get her. The +Southern hero laid a naked sword, a falchion graven, between +them twain; nor did the Hunnish king ever kiss her, neither +take her into his arms; he handed the young maiden over to +Giuki's son.</p> + +<p>She knew no guilt in her life, nor was any evil found in her +when she died, no blame in deed or thought. The grim Fates +came between.<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></p></div> + +<p>"It was the Fates that worked them ill." This sententious close of the +prologue introduces the main story, chiefly dramatic in form, in which +Brynhild persuades Gunnar to plan the death of Sigurd, and Gunnar +persuades Hogni. It is love for Sigurd, and jealousy of Gudrun, that +form the motive of Brynhild. Gunnar's conduct is barely intelligible; +there is no explanation of his compliance with Brynhild, except the +mere strength of her importunity. Hogni is reluctant, and remembers +the oaths sworn to Sigurd. Gothorm, their younger brother, is made +their instrument,—he was "outside the oaths." The slaying of Sigurd +by Gothorm, and Sigurd's dying stroke that cuts his slayer in two, are +told in the brief manner of the prologue to the poem; likewise the +grief of Gudrun. Then comes Sigurd's speech to Gudrun before his +death.</p> + +<p>The principal part of the poem, from line 118 to the end, is filled by +the storm in the mind of Brynhild: her laughter at the grief of +Gudrun, her confession of her own sorrows, and her preparation for +death; the expostulations of Gunnar, the bitter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> speech of +Hogni,—"Let no man stay her from her long journey"; the stroke of the +sword with which Brynhild gives herself the death-wound; her dying +prophecy. In this last speech of Brynhild, with all its vehemence, +there is manifest care on the part of the author to bring out clearly +his knowledge of the later fortunes of Gudrun and Gunnar. The prophecy +includes the birth of Swanhild, the marriage of Attila and Gudrun, the +death of Gunnar at the hands of Attila, by reason of the love between +Gudrun and Oddrun; the vengeance of Gudrun on Attila, the third +marriage of Gudrun, the death of Swanhild among the Goths. With all +this, and carrying all this burden of history, there is the passion of +Brynhild, not wholly obscured or quenched by the rhetorical ingenuity +of the poet. For it is plain that the poet was an artist capable of +more than one thing at a time. He was stirred by the tragic personage +of Brynhild; he was also pleased, intellectually and dispassionately, +with his design of grouping together in one composition all the events +of the tragic history.</p> + +<p>The poem is followed by the short separate Lay (forty-four lines) of +the <i>Hell-ride of Brynhild</i>, which looks as if it might have been +composed by the same or another poet, to supply some of the history +wanting at the beginning of the <i>Lay of Brynhild</i>. Brynhild, riding +Hell-ward with Sigurd, from the funeral pile where she and Sigurd had +been laid by the Giuking lords, is encountered by a giantess who +forbids her to pass through her "rock-built courts," and cries shame +upon her for her guilt. Brynhild answers with the story of her evil +fate, how she was a Valkyria, punished by Odin for disobedience, set +in the ring of flame, to be released by none but the slayer of Fafni; +how she had been beguiled in Gunnar's wooing, and how Gudrun cast it +in her teeth. This supplies the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> motive for the anger of Brynhild +against Sigurd, not clearly expressed in the <i>Lay</i>, and also for +Gunnar's compliance with her jealous appeal, and Hogni's consent to +the death of Sigurd. While, in the same manner as in the <i>Lay</i>, the +formalism and pedantry of the historical poet are burnt up in the +passion of the heroine. "Sorrow is the portion of the life of all men +and women born: we two, I and Sigurd, shall be parted no more for +ever." The latter part of the <i>Lay</i>, the long monologue of Brynhild, +is in form like the <i>Lamentation of Oddrun</i> and the idyll of Gudrun +and Theodoric; though, unlike those poems, it has a fuller narrative +introduction: the monologue does not begin until the situation has +been explained.</p> + +<p>On the same subject, but in strong contrast with the <i>Lay of +Brynhild</i>, is the poem that has lost its beginning in the great gap in +<i>Codex Regius</i>. It is commonly referred to in the editions as the +<i>Fragmentary Lay of Sigurd</i> ("Brot af Sigurðarkviðu"); in the Oxford +edition it is styled the "Fragment of a short Brunhild Lay." There are +seventy-six lines (incomplete) beginning with the colloquy of Gunnar +and Hogni. Here also the character of Brynhild is the inspiration of +the poet. But there does not seem to have been in his mind anything +like the historical anxiety of the other poet to account for every +incident, or at least to show that, if he wished, he could account for +every incident, in the whole story. It is much stronger in expression, +and the conception of Brynhild is more dramatic and more imaginative, +though less eloquent, than in the longer poem. The phrasing is short +and emphatic:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Gudrun, Giuki's daughter, stood without, and this was the +first word she spoke: "Where is Sigurd, the king of men, +that my brothers are riding in the van?" Hogni made answer +to her words: "We have hewn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> Sigurd asunder with the sword; +ever the grey horse droops his head over the dead king."</p> + +<p>Then spake Brynhild, Budli's daughter: "Have great joy of +your weapons and hands. Sigurd would have ruled everything +as he chose, if he had kept his life a little longer. It was +not meet that he should so rule over the host of the Goths +and the heritage of Giuki, who begat five sons that +delighted in war and in the havoc of battle."</p> + +<p>Brynhild laughed, the whole house rang: "Have long joy of +your hands and weapons, since ye have slain the valiant +king."<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a></p></div> + +<p>The mood of Brynhild is altered later, and she "weeps at that she had +laughed at." She wakens before the day, chilled by evil dreams. "It +was cold in the hall, and cold in the bed," and she had seen in her +sleep the end of the Niblungs, and woke, and reproached Gunnar with +the treason to his friend.</p> + +<p>It is difficult to estimate the original full compass of this +fragmentary poem, but the scale of its narrative and its drama can be +pretty clearly understood from what remains. It is a poem with nothing +superfluous in it. The death of Sigurd does not seem to have been +given in any detail, except for the commentary spoken by the eagle and +the raven, prophetic of the doom of the Niblungs. The mystery of +Brynhild's character is curiously recognised by a sort of informal +chorus. It is said that "they were stricken silent as she spoke, and +none could understand her bearing, that she should weep to speak of +that for which she had besought them laughing." It is one of the +simplest forms in narrative; but in this case the simplicity of the +rhetoric goes along with some variety and subtlety of dramatic +imagination. The character of the heroine is rightly imagined and +strongly ren<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>dered, and her change of mind is impressive, as the +author plainly meant it to be.</p> + +<p>The <i>Lay of Attila</i> (<i>Atlakviða</i>) and the Greenland poem of <i>Attila</i> +(<i>Atlamál</i>) are two poems which have a common subject and the same +amount of story: how Attila sent for Gunnar and Hogni, the brothers of +Gudrun, and had them put to death, and how Gudrun took vengeance on +Attila.</p> + +<p>In the <i>Atlakviða</i> there are 174 lines, and some broken places; in +<i>Atlamál</i> there are 384 lines; its narrative is more copious than in +most of the Norse Lays. There are some curious discrepancies in the +matter of the two poems, but these hardly affect the scale of the +story. The difference between them in this respect is fairly +represented by the difference in the number of their lines. The scenes +of the history are kept in similar proportions in both poems.</p> + +<p>The story of Gudrun's vengeance has been seen (p. 83) to correspond, +as far as the amount of action is concerned, pretty closely with the +story of Hengest and Finn. The epic unity is preserved; and, as in the +<i>Finnesburh</i> story, there is a distribution of interest between the +<i>wrong</i> and the <i>vengeance</i>,—(1) the death of Hnæf, the death of +Gunnar and Hogni; (2) the vengeance of Hengest, the vengeance of +Gudrun, with an interval of dissimulation in each case.</p> + +<p>The plot of the death of Attila, under all its manifold variations, is +never without a certain natural fitness for consistent and +well-proportioned narrative.</p> + +<p>None of the Northern poems take any account of the theory that the +murder of Sigfred was avenged by his wife upon her brothers. That +theory belongs to the <i>Nibelungenlied</i>; in some form or other it was +known to Saxo; it is found in the Danish ballad of <i>Grimild's +Revenge</i>, a translation or adaptation from the German. That other +conception of the story<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> may be more full of tragic meaning; the +Northern versions, which agree in making Attila the slayer of the +Niblung kings, have the advantage of greater concentration. The motive +of Attila, which is different in each of the poems on this subject, is +in no case equal to the tragic motive of Kriemhild in the +<i>Nibelungen</i>. On the other hand, the present interest of the story is +not distracted by reference to the long previous history of Sigfred; a +new start is made when the Niblungs are invited to Attila's Court. The +situation is intelligible at once, without any long preliminary +explanation.</p> + +<p>In the <i>Lay of Attila</i> the hoard of the Niblungs comes into the story; +its fatal significance is recognised; it is the "metal of discord" +that is left in the Rhine for ever. But the situation can be +understood without any long preliminary history of the Niblung +treasure and its fate. Just as the story of <i>Waldere</i> explains itself +at once,—a man defending his bride and his worldly wealth against a +number of enemies, in a place where he is able to take them one by +one, as they come on,—so the story of <i>Attila</i> can begin without long +preliminaries; though the previous history is to be found, in +tradition, in common stories, if any one cares to ask for it. The plot +is intelligible in a moment: the brothers inveigled away and killed by +their sister's husband (for reasons of his own, as to which the +versions do not agree); their sister's vengeance by the sacrifice of +her own children and the death of her husband.</p> + +<p>In the <i>Atlamál</i> there is very much less recognition of the previous +history than in <i>Atlakviða</i>. The story begins at once with the +invitation to the Niblung brothers and with their sister's warning. +Attila's motive is not emphasised; he has a grudge against them on +account of the death of Brynhild his sister,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> but his motive is not +very necessary for the story, as the story is managed here. The +present scene and the present passion are not complicated with too +much reference to the former history of the personages. This mode of +procedure will be found to have given some trouble to the author, but +the result at any rate is a complete and rounded work.</p> + +<p>There is great difference of treatment between <i>Atlakviða</i> and the +Greenland poem <i>Atlamál</i>, a difference which is worth some further +consideration.<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> There is, however, no very great difference of +scale; at any rate, the difference between them becomes unimportant +when they are compared with <i>Beowulf</i>. Even the more prolix of the +two, which in some respects is the fullest and most elaborate of the +Northern heroic poems, yet comes short of the English scale. <i>Atlamál</i> +takes up very little more than the space of the English poem of +<i>Maldon</i>, which is a simple narrative of a battle, with nothing like +the tragic complexity and variety of the story of the vengeance of +Gudrun.</p> + +<p>There is yet another version of the death of Gunnar the Giuking to +compare with the two poems of <i>Attila</i>—the <i>Lament of Oddrun</i> +(<i>Oddrúnargrátr</i>), which precedes the <i>Atlakviða</i> in the manuscript. +The form of this, as well as the plot of it, is wonderfully different +from either of the other two poems. This is one of the epic or tragic +idylls in which a passage of heroic legend is told dramatically by one +who had a share in it. Here the death of Gunnar is told by Oddrun his +mistress, the sister of Attila.</p> + +<p>This form of indirect narration, by giving so great a dramatic value +to the person of the narrator, before the beginning of her story, of +course tends to depreciate or to exclude the vivid dramatic scenes +that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> are common everywhere else in the Northern poems. The character +of the speaker leaves too little independence to the other characters. +But in none of the poems is the tragic plot more strongly drawn out +than in the seventy lines of Oddrun's story to Borgny.</p> + +<p>The father of Oddrun, Brynhild, and Attila had destined Oddrun to be +the bride of Gunnar, but it was Brynhild that he married. Then came +the anger of Brynhild against Sigurd, the death of Sigurd, the death +of Brynhild that is renowned over all the world. Gunnar sought the +hand of Oddrun from her brother Attila, but Attila would not accept +the price of the bride from the son of Giuki. The love of Oddrun was +given to Gunnar. "I gave my love to Gunnar as Brynhild should have +loved him. We could not withstand our love: I kept troth with Gunnar." +The lovers were betrayed to Attila, who would not believe the +accusation against his sister; "yet no man should pledge his honour +for the innocence of another, when it is a matter of love." At last he +was persuaded, and laid a plot to take vengeance on the Niblungs; +Gudrun knew nothing of what was intended.</p> + +<p>The death of Gunnar and Hogni is told in five-and-twenty lines:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>There was din of the hoofs of gold when the sons of Giuki +rode into the Court. The heart was cut out of the body of +Hogni; his brother they set in the pit of snakes. The wise +king smote on his harp, for he thought that I should come to +his help. Howbeit I was gone to the banquet at the house of +Geirmund. From Hlessey I heard how the strings rang loud. I +called to my handmaidens to rise and go; I sought to save +the life of the prince; we sailed across the sound, till we +saw the halls of Attila. But the accursed serpent crept to +the heart of Gunnar, so that I might not save the life of +the king.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + +<p>Full oft I wonder how I keep my life after him, for I +thought I loved him like myself.</p> + +<p>Thou hast sat and listened while I have told thee many evils +of my lot and theirs. The life of a man is as his thoughts +are.</p> + +<p>The Lamentation of Oddrun is finished.</p></div> + +<p>The <i>Hamðismál</i>, the poem of the death of Ermanaric, is one that, in +its proportions, is not unlike the <i>Atlakviða</i>: the plot has been +already described (pp. <a href="#Page_70">70</a>-71). The poem of 130 lines as it stands has +suffered a good deal. This also is like the story of Hengest and the +story of Gudrun in the way the action is proportioned. It began with +the slaying of Swanhild, the wrong to Gudrun—this part is lost. It +goes on to the speech of Gudrun to her sons, Sorli and Hamther, and +their expedition to the hall of the Goth; it ends with their death. In +this case, also, the action must have begun at once and intelligibly, +as soon as the motive of the Gothic treachery and cruelty was +explained, or even without that explanation, in the more immediate +sense of the treachery and cruelty, in the story of Swanhild trampled +to death, and of the news brought to Gudrun. Here, also, there is much +less expansion of the story than in the English poems; everything is +surcharged with meaning.</p> + +<p>The <i>Old Lay of Gudrun</i> (<i>Guðrúnarkviða in forna</i>), or the tale of +Gudrun to Theodoric, an idyll like the story of Oddrun, goes quickly +over the event of the killing of Sigurd, and the return of Grani, +masterless. Unlike the <i>Lament of Oddrun</i>, this monologue of Gudrun +introduces dramatic passages. The meeting of Gudrun and her brother is +not merely told by Gudrun in indirect narration; the speeches of Hogni +and Gudrun are reported directly, as they might have been in a poem of +the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> form of <i>Atlakviða</i>, or the <i>Lay of Sigurd</i>, or any other in +which the poet tells the story himself, without the introduction of an +imaginary narrator. The main part of the poem is an account of the way +in which Gudrun's mother, Grimhild, compelled her, by a potion of +forgetfulness, to lose the thought of Sigurd and of all her woes, and +consent to become the wife of Attila. This part is well prefaced by +the quiet account of the life of Gudrun in her widowhood, before +Grimhild began her schemes; how Gudrun lived in the house of Half, +with Thora, daughter of Hakon, in Denmark, and how the ladies spent +their time at the tapestry frame, working pictures of the heroes, the +ships of Sigmund, the ranks of Hunnish warriors.</p> + +<p>In the manuscript there are found at the end of the <i>Old Lay of +Gudrun</i>, as if they were part of it, some verses which have been +separated from it by the editors (<i>C.P.B.</i>, i. 347) as a "Fragment of +an Atli Lay." They came from a poem of which the design, at any rate, +was the same as that of the <i>Old Lay</i>, and Gudrun is the speaker. She +tells how, after the death of Gunnar and Hogni, she was wakened by +Atli, to listen to his evil dreams, foreboding his doom, and how she +interpreted them in a way to comfort him and put him off his guard.</p> + +<p>In English poetry there are instances of stories introduced +dramatically, long before the pilgrimage to Canterbury. In <i>Beowulf</i> +there are various episodes where a story is told by one of the persons +engaged. Besides the poem of Hengest chanted in Heorot, there is +Beowulf's own narrative of his adventures, after his return to his own +people in the kingdom of the Gauts, and passages still nearer in form +to the <i>Lament of Oddrun</i> and the <i>Confession of Gudrun</i> are the last +speech of Beowulf before his death (2426-2537), and the long speech of +Wiglaf (2900-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>3027) telling of the enmity of the Gauts and the Swedes. +But those are not filled with dramatic pathos to the same degree as +these Northern <i>Heroides</i>, the monologues of Oddrun and Gudrun.</p> + +<p>The <i>Lay of Gudrun</i> (<i>Gudrúnarkviða</i>) which comes in the manuscript +immediately before the <i>Lay of Sigurd</i>, is a pure heroic idyll. Unlike +most of its companions, it leaves the details of the Volsung story +very much in neglect, and brings all its force to bear on the +representation of the grief of the queen, contrasted with the stormy +passion of Brynhild. It is rightly honoured for its pathetic +imagination of the dumb grief of Gudrun, broken up and dissolved when +her sister draws away the covering from the face of Sigurd. "But fire +was kindled in the eyes of Brynhild, daughter of Budli, when she +looked upon his wounds."</p> + +<p>The refrain of the poem increases its resemblance to the form of a +Greek idyll. The verse is that of narrative poetry; the refrain is not +purely lyrical and does not come in at regular intervals.</p> + +<p>The <i>Tregrof Guðrúnar</i>, or <i>Chain of Woe</i>, restored by the Oxford +editors out of the most confused part of the original text, is pure +lamentation, spoken by Gudrun before her death, recounting all her +sorrows: the bright hair of Swanhild trampled in the mire; Sigurd +slain in his bed, despoiled of victory; Gunnar in the court of the +serpents; the heart of Hogni cut out of his living body—"Saddle thy +white steed and come to me, Sigurd; remember what we promised to one +another, that thou wouldst come from Hell to seek me, and I would come +to thee from the living world."</p> + +<p>The short poem entitled <i>Qviða Guðrúnar</i> in the manuscript, the +<i>Ordeal of Gudrun</i> in the English edition, has a simple plot. The +subject is the calumny which was brought against Gudrun by Herkja, the +cast-off mistress of Attila (that "she had seen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> Gudrun and Theodoric +together") and the ordeal of water by which Gudrun proved her +innocence, while the falsehood was brought home to Herkja, the +bondwoman. The theme is slighter than all the rest, and this poem, at +least, might be reckoned not unfit to be taken up as a single scene in +a long epic.</p> + +<p>Some of the Northern poems in the epic measure are almost wholly made +up of dialogue. The story of <i>Balder's Doom</i> is a dialogue between +Odin and the witch whom he raises from the dead. The earlier part of +the story of Sigurd in the "Elder Edda" is almost all dialogue, even +where the narrative measure is employed.</p> + +<p>There is hardly any mere narrative in the poems remaining of the cycle +of Angantyr. In several other cases, the writer has only given, +perhaps has only remembered clearly, the dramatic part of the poems in +which he was interested; the intervals of the story he fills up with +prose. It is difficult to tell where this want of narrative connexion +in the poetry is original, and where it is due to forgetfulness or +ignorance; where the prose of the manuscripts is to be taken as +standing in the place of lost narrative verses, and where it fills a +gap that was never intended to be filled with verse, but was always +left to the reciter, to be supplied in his own way by passages of +story-telling, between his chantings of the poetic dialogue of Hervor +and the Shepherd, for instance, or of Hervor and Angantyr.</p> + +<p>The poems just mentioned are composed in narrative measure. There are +also other dialogue poems in a measure different from this, and +peculiarly adapted to dialogues, the measure of the gnomic <i>Hávamál</i> +and of the didactic mythological poems, <i>Vafþrúðnismál</i>, <i>Alvíssmál</i>, +<i>Grímnismál</i>. These pieces are some distance removed from epic or +ballad poetry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> But there are others in this gnomic measure which it +is not easy to keep far apart from such dialogue poems as <i>Balder's +Doom</i>, though their verse is different. By their peculiar verse they +are distinguished from the English and Saxon heroic poetry; but they +retain, for all their peculiar metre and their want of direct +narrative, some of the characteristics of Teutonic epic.</p> + +<p>The <i>Lokasenna</i> has a plot, and represents dramatically an incident in +the history of the gods. The chief business is Loki's shameless +rehearsal of accusations against the gods, and their helpless +rejoinders. It is a masque of the gods, and not a ballad like the +<i>Winning of Thor's Hammer</i>. It is not, however, a mere string of +"flytings" without a plot; there is some plot and action. It is the +absence of Thor that gives Loki courage to browbeat the gods; the +return of Thor at the end of the poem avenges the gods on their +accuser.</p> + +<p>In the strange poem of the <i>Railing of Thor and Harbard</i>, and in a +very rough and irregular kind of verse, there is a similar kind of +plot.</p> + +<p>The <i>Contention of Atli and Rimgerd the Giantess</i> is a short comic +dialogue, interposed among the fragments of the poem of Helgi +Hiorvard's son, and marked off from them by its use of the dialogue +verse, as well as by its episodic plot.</p> + +<p>Helgi Hiorvard's son had killed the giant Hati, and the giant's +daughter comes at night where Helgi's ships are moored in the firth, +and stands on a rock over them, challenging Helgi and his men. Atli, +keeping watch on deck, answers the giantess, and there is an exchange +of gibes in the old style between them. Helgi is awakened and joins in +the argument. It is good comedy of its kind, and there is poetry in +the giantess's description of the company of armed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> maidens of the air +whom she has seen keeping guard over Helgi's ships—"three nines of +maids, but one rode foremost, a white maid, enhelmed. Their rearing +horses shook dew from their manes into the deep dales, and hail upon +the lofty woods; thence come fair seasons among men. But the whole +sight was hateful to me" (<i>C.P.B.</i>, i. p. 154).</p> + +<p>The giantess is kept there by the gibes of Atli till the daybreak. +"Look eastward, now, Rimgerd!" And the giantess is turned into stone, +a great harbour mark, to be laughed at.</p> + +<p>In some other poems there is much more action, and much more need for +an interpreter to act as chorus in the intervals between the +dialogues. The story of the wooing of Gerd is in this form: how Frey +sat in the seat of Odin and saw a fair maid in Jotunheim, and got +great sickness of thought, till his swain Skirnir found the cause of +his languishing, and went to woo Gerd for him in Gymi's Garth. Another +love-story, and a story not unlike that of Frey and Gerd, is contained +in two poems <i>Grógaldr</i> and <i>Fiölsvinnsmál</i>, that tell of the winning +of Menglad by her destined lover.</p> + +<p>These two latter poems are not in <i>Codex Regius</i>, and it was only +gradually that their relation to one another was worked out, chiefly +by means of the Danish ballad which contains the story of both +together in the right order.</p> + +<p>In the first, Svipdag the hero comes to his mother's grave to call on +her for counsel. He has been laid under a mysterious charge, to go on +a quest which he cannot understand, "to find out Menglad," and Menglad +he has never heard of, and does not know where she is to be found.</p> + +<p>The second poem, also in dialogue, and in the dialogue measure, gives +the coming of Svipdag to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> mysterious castle, and his debate with +the giant who keeps the gate. For Menglad is the princess whose story +is told everywhere, and under a thousand names,—the lady of a strange +country, kept under a spell in a witch's castle till the deliverer +comes. The wooing of Gerd out of Jotunheim is another version of the +same story, which in different forms is one of the oldest and most +universal everywhere,—the fairy story of the princess beyond the sea.</p> + +<p>The second dialogue is very much encumbered by the pedantries of the +giant who keeps the gate; it ends, however, in the recognition of +Svipdag and Menglad. Menglad says: "Long have I sat waiting for thee, +many a day; but now is that befallen that I have sought for, and thou +art come to my bower. Great was the sorrow of my waiting; great was +thine, waiting for the gladness of love. Now it is very truth for us: +the days of our life shall not be sundered."</p> + +<p>The same form is used in the older poems of Sigurd, those that come +before the hiatus of the great manuscript, and have been gathered +together in the Oxford edition under the title of the <i>Old Play of the +Wolsungs</i>. They touch briefly on all the chief points of the story of +the Niblung hoard, from the capture and ransom of Andvari to the +winning of the warrior maiden Sigrdrifa by Sigurd.</p> + +<p>All these last-mentioned dialogue poems, in spite of their lyric or +elegiac measure, are like the narrative poems in their dependence upon +traditional, mythic, or heroic stories, from which they choose their +themes. They are not like the lyrical heroic poems of <i>Widsith</i> and +<i>Deor</i> in Anglo-Saxon literature, which survey a large tract of heroic +legend from a point of vantage. Something of this sort is done by some +of the Norse dialogue poems, <i>Vafþrúðnismál</i>, etc., but in the poems +of Frey and Gerd, of Svipdag and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> Menglad, and of the Niblung +treasure, though this reflective and comparative method occasionally +makes itself evident, the interest is that of the story. They have a +story to represent, just as much as the narrative poems, though they +are debarred from the use of narrative.</p> + +<hr style="width: 35%;" /> + +<p>It must be confessed that there is an easily detected ambiguity in the +use of the term epic in application to the poems, whether German, +English, or Northern, here reviewed. That they are heroic poems cannot +be questioned, but that they are epic in any save the most general +sense of the term is not quite clear. They may be epic in character, +in a general way, but how many of them have a claim to the title in +its eminent and special sense? Most of them are short poems; most of +them seem to be wanting in the breadth of treatment, in the amplitude +of substance, that are proper to epic poetry.</p> + +<p><i>Beowulf</i>, it may be admitted, is epic in the sense that distinguishes +between the longer narrative poem and the shorter ballad. The +fragments of <i>Waldere</i> are the fragments of a poem that is not cramped +for room, and that moves easily and with sufficient eloquence in the +representation of action. The narrative of the <i>Maldon</i> poem is not +pinched nor meagre in its proportions. Hardly any of the other poems, +however, can be compared with these in this respect. These are the +most liberal in scale of all the old Teutonic poems; the largest epic +works of which we know anything directly. These are the fullest in +composition, the least abstract or elliptical; and they still want +something of the scale of the <i>Iliad</i>. The poem of <i>Maldon</i>, for +instance, corresponds not to the <i>Iliad</i>, but to the action of a +single book, such as the twelfth, with which it has been already +compared.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> If the story of the English <i>Waldere</i>, when complete, was +not more elaborate than the extant Latin <i>Waltharius</i>, it must have +come far short of the proportions of Homer. It is a story for a single +recitation, like the story of Finnesburh in <i>Beowulf</i>. The poem of +<i>Beowulf</i> may have more in it than the story of Walter and Hildegund, +but this advantage would seem to be gained at the expense of the unity +of the poem. It is lengthened out by a sequel, by the addition of a +new adventure which requires the poet to make a new start. In the poem +of <i>Hildebrand</i> there is a single tragedy contained in a single scene. +It is briefly rendered, in a style evidently more primitive, less +expansive and eloquent, than the style of <i>Beowulf</i> or <i>Waldere</i>. Even +if it had been given in a fuller form, the story would still have been +essentially a short one; it could not well have been longer than the +poem of <i>Sohrab and Rustum</i>, where the theme is almost the same, while +the scale is that of the classical epic.</p> + +<p>If the old English epic poetry falls short of the Homeric magnitude, +it almost equally exceeds the scale of the Northern heroic poems. If +<i>Beowulf</i> and <i>Waldere</i> seem inadequate in size, the defect will not +be made good out of the Northern lays of <i>Helgi</i> or <i>Sigfred</i>.</p> + +<p>The Northern poems are exceedingly varied in their plan and +disposition, but none of them is long, and many of them are in the +form of <i>dramatic lyric</i>, with no place for pure narrative at all; +such are the poems of <i>Frey's Wooing</i>, of <i>Svipdag and Menglad</i>, and +others, in which there is a definite plot worked out by means of lyric +dialogue. None of them is of anything like the same scale as +<i>Beowulf</i>, which is a complex epic poem, or <i>Byrhtnoth</i>, which is an +episodic poem liberally dealt with and of considerable length.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Teutonic poetry presents itself, at a first view, as the +complement of Homer. Here are to be found many of the things that are +wanting at the beginning of Greek literary history. Here are single +epic lays, or clusters of them, in every form. Here, in place of the +two great poems, rounded and complete, there is the nebulous expanse +of heroic tradition, the outline of an heroic cycle, together with a +number of episodic poems taking their origin from one point or another +of the cycle, according as the different parts of the story happen to +catch the imagination of a poet. Instead of the Homeric scale of epic +there are a number of brief epic tragedies, the plots of which are +chosen from the multitude of stories current in tradition.</p> + +<p>Among these shorter epic poems, if such they may be called, there are +to be distinguished great varieties of procedure in regard to the +amount of action represented in the poem.</p> + +<p>There is one class of poem that represents a single action with some +detail; there is another that represents a long and complex story in a +summary and allusive way. The first kind may be called <i>episodic</i> in +the sense that it takes up about the same quantity of story as might +make an act in a play; or perhaps, with a little straining of the +term, as much as might serve for one play in a trilogy.</p> + +<p>The second kind is not episodic; it does not seem fitted for a place +in a larger composition. It is a kind of short and summary epic, +taking as large a province of history as the <i>Iliad</i> or the <i>Odyssey</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Hildebrand</i>, the <i>Fight at Finnesburh</i>, <i>Waldere</i>, <i>Byrhtnoth</i>, the +<i>Winning of the Hammer</i>, <i>Thor's Fishing</i>, the <i>Death of the Niblungs</i> +(in any of the Northern versions), the <i>Death of Ermanaric</i>, might all +be fairly regarded as belonging to the first kind of story; while the +<i>Lay of Weland</i> and the <i>Lay of Brynhild</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> cover a much larger extent +of story, though not of actual space, than any of those.</p> + +<p>It is not quite easy to find a common measure for these and for the +Homeric poems. One can tell perhaps from Mr. Arnold's poem of <i>Sohrab +and Rustum</i> how much is wanting to the <i>Lay of Hildebrand</i>, and on +what scale the story of Hildebrand might have been told if it had been +told in the Homeric instead of the archaic German manner. The story of +Walter of Aquitaine in the Latin hexameters of <i>Waltharius</i> takes up +1456 lines. Although the author of this Latin poem is something short +of Homer, "a little overparted" by the comparison, still his work is +designed on the scale of classical epic, and gives approximately the +right extent of the story in classical form. But while those stories +are comparatively short, even in their most expanded forms, the story +of Weland and the story of Helgi each contains as much as would +suffice for the plot of an <i>Odyssey</i>, or more. The <i>Lay of Brynhild</i> +is not an episodic poem of the vengeance and the passion of Brynhild, +though that is the principal theme. It begins in a summary manner with +Sigurd's coming to the house of the Niblungs, the wedding of Sigurd +and Gudrun, the wooing of Brynhild for Gunnar; all these earlier +matters are taken up and touched on before the story comes to the +searchings of heart when the kings are persuaded to kill Sigurd. Then +the death of Sigurd is told of, and the rest of the poem is filled +with the tragedy of Brynhild and Gudrun; the future history of Gudrun +is spoken of prophetically by Brynhild before she throws herself on +the funeral pile. Plainly this cannot be considered in the same sense +"episodic" as the poem of Thor's fishing for the Midgarth snake. The +poems of Thor's fishing and the recovery of the hammer are distinctly +fragments<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> of a legendary cycle. The <i>Lay of Brynhild</i> makes an +attempt to complete the whole Volsung story from beginning to end, +while giving special importance to one particular incident of it,—the +passion of Brynhild after the death of Sigurd. The poems of <i>Attila</i> +and the <i>Lay of the Death of Ermanaric</i> are more restricted.</p> + +<p>It remains true that the great story of the Niblung tragedy was never +told at length in the poetical measure used for episodes of it, and +for the summary form of the <i>Lay of Brynhild</i>. It should be +remembered, however, that a poem of the scale of the <i>Nibelungenlied</i>, +taking up the whole matter, must go as far beyond the Homeric limit as +the <i>Lay of Brynhild</i> falls short of it. From one point of view the +shorter episodic poems are more Homeric in their plots than either the +summary epics which cover the whole ground, as the <i>Lay of Brynhild</i> +attempts to cover it, or the longer works in prose that begin at the +beginning and go on to the end, like the <i>Volsunga Saga</i>. The <i>Iliad</i> +and the <i>Odyssey</i> are themselves episodic poems; neither of them has +the reach of the <i>Nibelungenlied</i>. It should not be forgotten, either, +that Aristotle found the <i>Iliad</i> and the <i>Odyssey</i> rather long. The +Teutonic poems are not to be despised because they have a narrower +orbit than the <i>Iliad</i>. Those among them that contain matter enough +for a single tragedy, and there are few that have not as much as this +in them, may be considered not to fall far short of the standard fixed +by Aristotle for the right amount of action to be contained in an +heroic poem. They are too hurried, they are wanting in the classical +breadth and ease of narrative; but at any rate they are +comprehensible, they observe an epic unity. They do not, like certain +of the endless French poetical histories, remind one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> of the picture +of incomprehensible bulk in Aristotle's <i>Poetics</i>, the animal 10,000 +stadia long.</p> + +<p>Thus, though it is natural at first to imagine that in the old +Teutonic poetry one is possessed of such separate lays or ballads as +might be the original materials of a larger epic, an epic of the +Homeric scale, this impression will hardly remain long after a closer +criticism of the workmanship of the poems. Very few of them correspond +in the amount of their story to the episodes of the Homeric poems. +Many of them contain in a short space the matter of stories more +complicated, more tragical, than the story of Achilles. Most of them +by their unity and self-consistency make it difficult to think of them +as absorbed in a longer epic. This is the case not only with those +that take in a whole history, like the <i>Lay of Brynhild</i>, but also +with those whose plot is comparatively simple, like <i>Hildebrand</i> or +<i>Waldere</i>. It is possible to think of the story of Walter and +Hildegund as forming part of a larger story of the fortunes of the +Huns. It has this subordinate place in the <i>Thidreks Saga</i>. But it is +not easy to believe that in such a case it preserves its value. +<i>Thidreks Saga</i> is not an epic, though it is made by an agglutination +of ballads. In like manner the tragedy of <i>Hildebrand</i> gains by its +isolation from the stories of the other chiefs, Theodoric and Odoacer. +The stories of Walter and of Hildebrand, like the story of Hamlet the +Dane, are too strong in themselves to form part of a larger +composition, without detriment to its unity and harmony. They might be +brought in allusively and in a subordinate way, like the story of +Thebes and other stories in the <i>Iliad</i>; but that is not the same +thing as making an epic poem out of separate lays. So that on all +grounds the first impression of the Teutonic epic poetry has to be +modified. If ever epic poetry was made by a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> conglomeration of +ballads, it must have had other kinds of material than this. Some of +the poems are episodic; others are rather to be described as +abridgments of epic than as separate epic scenes. But neither in the +one case nor in the other is there to be found the kind of poetry that +is required by the hypothesis of composite epic. There are short epics +that might conceivably have served as the framework, or the +ground-plan, of a more elaborate work, containing, like the <i>Lay of +Helgi</i> or the <i>Lay of Brynhild</i>, incidents enough and hints of +character enough for a history fully worked out, as large as the +Homeric poems. If it should be asked why there is so little evidence +of any Teutonic attempt to weave together separate lays into an epic +work, the answer might be, first, that the separate lays we know are +too much separate and individual, too strong in themselves, to be +satisfactorily cobbled into a more expansive fabric; and, secondly, +that it has not yet been proved that epic poems can be made by process +of cobbling. The need of a comprehensive epic of the Niblungs was not +imperative. Neither was there any demand in Athens, in the time of +Sophocles and Euripides, for a comprehensive work—a <i>Thebaid</i>, a +<i>Roman de Thèbes</i>—to include the plots of all the tragedies of the +house of Cadmus. It was not a poet, but a prose journeyman, who did +this sort of work in the North, and it was not till the old school of +poetry had passed away that the composite prose history of the +Volsungs and Niblungs, of Sigmund and Sinfiotli, Sigurd, Brynhild, +Gudrun, and Atli, was put together out of the old poems. The old lays, +Northern and Western, whatever their value, have all strong individual +characters of their own, and do not easily submit to be regarded as +merely the unused materials, waiting for an epic composer who never +was born.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="II.III"></a>III</h3> + +<h3>EPIC AND BALLAD POETRY</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> ballads of a later age have many points of likeness to such poems +as <i>Hildebrand</i>, <i>Finnesburh</i>, <i>Maldon</i>, and the poems of the Northern +collection. The two orders of poetry are, however, not to be +confounded. Their affinity indeed is clear. But the older poems in +alliterative verse have a character not possessed by the ballads which +followed them, and which often repeated the same stories in the later +Middle Ages. Even the simplest of the older poems, which is the <i>Lay +of Hildebrand</i>, is distinguished by evident signs of dignity from even +the most ambitious of the rhyming ballads in any of the tongues. Its +rhetoric is of a different order.</p> + +<p>This is not a question of preferences, but of distinction of kinds. +The claim of an epic or heroic rank for the older poems need not be +forced into a denial of all the other excellences of the rhyming +ballads.</p> + +<p><i>Ballad</i>, as the term is commonly used, implies a certain degree of +simplicity, and an absence of high poetical ambition. Ballads are for +the market-place and the "blind crowder," or for the rustic chorus +that sings the ballad burden. The wonderful poetical beauty of some of +the popular ballads of Scotland and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> Denmark, not to speak of other +lands, is a kind of beauty that is never attained by the great +poetical artists; an unconscious grace. The ballads of the Scottish +Border, from their first invention to the publication of the <i>Border +Minstrelsy</i>, lie far away from the great streams of poetical +inspiration. They have little or nothing to do with the triumphs of +the poets; the "progress of poesy" leaves them untouched; they learn +neither from Milton nor from Pope, but keep a life of their own that +has its sources far remote in the past, in quite another tradition of +art than that to which the great authors and their works belong.</p> + +<p>The Teutonic epic poems, the Northern poems at any rate, are ballads +in respect of their management of the plots. The scale of them is not +to be distinguished from the scale of a ballad: the ballads have the +same way of indicating and alluding to things and events without +direct narrative, without continuity, going rapidly from critical +point to point, in their survey of the fable.</p> + +<p>But there is this great difference, that the style of the earlier +epics is ambitious and self-conscious, an aristocratic and +accomplished style. The ballads of <i>Clerk Saunders</i> or <i>Sir Patrick +Spens</i> tell about things that have been generally forgotten, in the +great houses of the country, by the great people who have other things +to think about, and, if they take to literature, other models of +style. The lay of the fight at Finnesburh, the lays of the death of +Attila, were in their time the poems of the king's or the earl's hall; +they were at the height of literary accomplishment in their +generation, and their style displays the consciousness of rank. The +ballads never had anything like the honour that was given to the older +lays.</p> + +<p>The difference between epic and ballad style comes out most obviously +when, as frequently has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> happened, in Denmark, Iceland, and the +Faroes, the poems of the old school have been translated from their +epic verse into the "eights and sixes" or some other favourite measure +of the common ballads. This has been the case, for instance, with the +poem of Thor's Hammer, and the poem of the journey of Svipdag in +search of Menglad. In other cases, as in that of the return of Helgi +from the dead, it is less certain, though it is probable, that there +is a direct relation between the two kinds of poetry, between the old +Northern poem of Helgi and the Danish ballad of Sir Aage which has the +same story to tell; but a comparison of the two styles, in a case like +this, is none the less possible and justifiable.</p> + +<p>The poems in the older form and diction, however remote they may be +from modern fashions, assert themselves unmistakably to be of an +aristocratic and not a popular tradition. The ballads have many things +in common with the other poems, but they have lost the grand style, +and the pride and solemnity of language. One thing they have retained +almost invariably. Ballad poetry may be trusted to preserve the sense +of the tragic situation. If some ballads are less strong than others +in their rendering of a traditional story, their failure is not +peculiar to that kind of composition. Not every ballad-singer, and not +every tragic poet, has the same success in the development of his +fable. As a rule, however, it holds good that the ballads are sound in +their conception of a story; if some are constitutionally weak or +unshapely, and others have suffered from the infirmity of reciters and +transcribers, these accidents are not to be counted against the class +of poetry to which they belong. Yet, however well the ballads may give +the story, they cannot give it with the power of epic; and that this +power belongs to the older kind of verse, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> verse of the <i>Lay of +Brynhild</i>, may be proved with all the demonstration that this kind of +argument allows. It is open to any one to say that the grand style is +less attractive than the charm of the ballad burdens, that the airy +music of the ballads is more appealing and more mysterious than all +the eloquence of heroic poetry; but that does not touch the question. +The rhetoric of the older poems merely claims to be acknowledged for +what it is worth.</p> + +<p>The Danish ballad of <i>Ungen Sveidal</i>, "Child Sveidal,"<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> does not +spoil the ancient story which had been given in the older language and +older verse of <i>Svipdag and Menglad</i>. But there are different ways of +describing how the adventurer comes to the dark tower to rescue the +unknown maiden. The ballad uses the common ballad forms, the common +easy rhymes and assonances:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Out they cast their anchor<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All on the white sea sand,</span><br /> +And who was that but the Child Sveidal<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Was first upon the land?</span><br /> +<br /> +His heart is sore with deadly pain<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For her that he never saw,</span><br /> +His name is the Child Sveidal;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So the story goes.</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>This sort of story need not be despised, and it is peculiarly valuable +when it appears in the middle of one of the least refreshing seasons +of literature, like this ballad in the age of the Lutheran Reformation +in Denmark. In such an age and among theological tracts and +controversies, the simple ballad measures may bring relief from +oppression and desolation; and call for thanks to the Danish ladies by +whose care this ballad and so many others were written<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> down. But +gratitude need not conceal the truth, that the style of the ballad is +unlike the style of an heroic poem. The older poem from which <i>Child +Sveidal</i> is derived may have left many poetical opportunities +unemployed; it comes short in many things, and makes up for them by +mythological irrelevances. But it is composed in a style of which it +is impossible to mistake the gravity; it has all the advantage of +established forms that have been tested and are able to bear the +weight of the poetical matter. There is a vast difference between the +simplicity of the ballad and the stately measure and rhetorical pomp +of the original:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Svipdag is my name; Sunbright was my Father's name;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The winds have driven me far, along cold ways;</span><br /> +No one can gainsay the word of Fate,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Though it be spoken to his own destruction.</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>The difference is as great as the difference between the ballad of the +<i>Marriage of Gawayne</i> and the same story as told in the <i>Canterbury +Tales</i>; or the difference between Homer's way of describing the +recovery of lifted cattle and the ballad of <i>Jamie Telfer of the Fair +Dodheid</i>.</p> + +<p>It happens fortunately that one of the Danish ballads, <i>Sivard og +Brynild</i>, which tells of the death of Sigurd (<i>Danmarks gamle +Folkeviser</i>, No. 3), is one of the best of the ballads, in all the +virtues of that style, so that a comparison with the <i>Lay of +Brynhild</i>, one of the best poems of the old collection, is not unfair +to either of them.</p> + +<p>The ballad of <i>Sivard</i>, like the <i>Lay of Brynhild</i>, includes much more +than an episode; it is a complete tragic poem, indicating all the +chief points of the story. The tragic idea is different from that of +any of the other versions of the Volsung story, but quite as distinct +and strong as any.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + + +<p style="text-align: center"><b>SIVARD</b></p> + +<p style="text-align: center">(<i>O the King's Sons of Denmark!</i>)</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Sivard has a horse that is fleet, and he has stolen Brynild +from the Mountain of Glass, all by the light of day. From +the Mountain of Glass he has stolen proud Brynild, and given +her to Hagen, his brother-in-arms. Brynild and Signild went +to the river shore to wash their silken gowns. "Signild, my +sister, where got you the golden rings on your hand?"—"The +gold rings on my hand I got from Sivard, my own true love; +they are his pledge of troth: and you are given to Hagen." +When Brynild heard this she went into the upper room and lay +there sick: there she lay sick and Hagen came to her. "Tell +me, maiden Brynild, my own true love, what is there in the +world to heal you; tell me, and I will bring it, though it +cost all the world's red gold."—"Nothing in the world you +can bring me, unless you bring me, into my hands, the head +of Sivard."—"And how shall I bring to your hands the head +of Sivard? There is not the sword in all the world that will +bite upon him: no sword but his own, and that I cannot +get."—"Go to his room, and bid him lend you his sword, for +his honour, and say, 'I have vowed an adventure for the sake +of my true love.' When first he hands you over his sword, I +pray you remember me, in the Lord God's name." It is Hagen +that has swept his mantle round him, and goes into the upper +room to Sivard. "Here you sit, Sivard, my foster-brother; +will you lend me your good sword for your honour? for I have +vowed a vow for the sake of my love."—"And if I lend you my +good sword Adelbring, you will never come in battle where it +will fail you. My good sword Adelbring you may have, indeed, +but keep you well from the tears of blood that are under the +hilt, keep you from the tears of blood that are so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> red.<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> +If they run down upon your fingers, it will be your death."</p> + +<p>Hagen got the sword, and it was his own sworn brother he +slew there in the room. He took up the bloody head under his +cloak of furs and brought it to proud Brynild. "Here you +have the head for which you sought; for the sake of you I +have slain my brother to my undoing."—"Take away the head +and let me not see it; nor will I pledge you my troth to +make you glad."—"Never will I pledge troth to you, and +nought is the gladness; for the sake of you I have slain my +brother; sorrow is on me, sore and great." It was Hagen drew +his sword and took the proud Brynild and hewed her asunder. +He set the sword against a stone, and the point was deadly +in the King's son's heart. He set the sword in the black +earth, and the point was death in the King's son's heart. +Ill was the day that maiden was born. For her were spilt the +lives of two King's sons. (<i>O the King's Sons of Denmark!</i>)</p></div> + +<p>This is a consistent tragic story, and it is well told. It has the +peculiar virtue of the ballad, to make things impressive by the sudden +manner in which they are spoken of and passed by; in this abrupt mode +of narrative the ballads, as has been noted already, are not much +different from the earlier poems. The <i>Lay of Brynhild</i> is not much +more diffuse than the ballad of <i>Sivard</i> in what relates to the +slaying of the hero. Both are alike distinct from the method of Homer; +compared with Homer both the lays and the ballads are hurried in their +action, over-emphatic, cramped in a narrow space. But when the style +and temper are considered, apart from the incidents of the story, then +it will appear that the lay belongs to a totally different order of +literature<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> from the ballad. The ballad tells of things dimly +discerned by the poet; king's sons and daughters are no more to him +than they are to the story-tellers of the market-place—forms of a +shadowy grandeur, different from ordinary people, swayed by strange +motives, not irrationally, nor altogether in a way beyond the +calculation of simple audiences, yet in ways for which there is no +adequate mode of explanation known to the reciter. The ballad keeps +instinctively a right outline for its tragic story, but to develop the +characters is beyond its power. In the epic <i>Lay of Brynhild</i>, on the +other hand, the poet is concerned with passions which he feels himself +able to comprehend and to set forth dramatically; so that, while the +story of the poem is not very much larger in scale than that of the +ballad, the dramatic speeches are greatly elaborated. Brynhild in the +lay is not a mere tragic symbol, as in the ballad, but a tragic +character. The ballad has the seed of tragedy in it, but in the lay +the seed has sprung up in the dramatic eloquence of Brynhild's +utterances before her death. The ballad is tragical, but in an +abstract manner. The plot of the slighted woman and her vengeance, +with the remorse of Hagen, is all true, and not exaggerated in motive. +But while the motives are appreciated, it is not in the power of the +poet to develop the exposition of them, to make them dramatically +characteristic, as well as right in their general nature. It is just +this dramatic ideal which is the ambition and inspiration of the other +poet; the character of Brynhild has taken possession of his +imagination, and requires to be expressed in characteristic speech. A +whole poetical world is open to the poet of Brynhild, and to the other +poets of the Northern heroic cycle. They have taken the first day's +journey into the empire of Homer and Shake<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>speare; the forms of poetry +that they employ are varied and developed by them so as to express as +fully as possible the poetical conception of different individual +characters. It is not easy to leave them without the impression that +their poetry was capable of infinitely greater progress in this +direction; that some at least of the poets of the North were "bearers +of the torch" in their generation, not less than the poets of Provence +or France who came after them and led the imagination of Christendom +into another way. That is, it is possible to think of the poets of +Sigurd and Brynhild as holding among the Northern nations of the tenth +or eleventh century the place that is held in every generation by some +set of authors who, for the time, are at the head of intellectual and +literary adventure, who hold authority, from Odin or the Muses, to +teach their contemporaries one particular kind of song, till the time +comes when their vogue is exhausted, and they are succeeded by other +masters and other schools. This commission has been held by various +kinds of author since the beginning of history, and manifold are the +lessons that have been recommended to the world by their authority; +now epic, now courtly and idealist lyric, romantic drama, pedantic +tragedy, funeral orations, analytical novels. They are not all +amusing, and not all their prices are more than the rate of an old +song. But they all have a value as trophies, as monuments of what was +most important in their time, of the things in which the generations, +wise and foolish, have put their trust and their whole soul. The +ballads have not this kind of importance; the ballad poets are remote +from the lists where the great champions overthrow one another, where +poet takes the crown from poet. The ballads, by their very nature, are +secluded and apart from the great literary enterprises; it is the +beauty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> of them that they are exempt from the proclamations and the +arguments, the shouting and the tumult, the dust and heat, that +accompany the great literary triumphs and make epochs for the +historians, as in the day of <i>Cléopatre</i>, or the day of <i>Hernani</i>. The +ballad has no weight of responsibility upon it; it does not carry the +intellectual light of its century; its authors are easily satisfied. +In the various examples of the Teutonic alliterative poetry there is +recognisable the effort and anxiety of poets who are not content with +old forms, who have a poetical vocation to go on and find out new +forms, who are on the search for the "one grace above the rest," by +which all the chief poets are led. The remains of this poetry are so +many experiments, which, in whatever respects they may have failed, +yet show the work and energy of authors who are proud of their art, as +well as the dignity of men who are familiar with greatness and great +actions: in both which respects they differ from the ballad poets. The +spell of the popular story, the popular ballad, is not quite the same +as theirs. Theirs is more commanding; they are nearer to the strenuous +life of the world than are the simple people who remember, over their +fires of peat, the ancient stories of the wanderings of kings' sons. +They have outgrown the stage of life for which the fables and old +wives' tales are all-sufficient; they have begun to make a difference +between fable and characters; they have entered on a way by which the +highest poetical victories are attainable. The poetry of the old lays +of the Volsungs, as compared with popular ballads and tales, is +"weighty and philosophical"—full of the results of reflection on +character. Nor have they with all this lost the inexplicable magic of +popular poetry, as the poems of Helgi and Sigrun, and of the daughter +of Angantyr, and others, may easily prove.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="II.IV"></a>IV</h3> + +<h3>THE STYLE OF THE POEMS</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> style of the poems, in what concerns their verse and diction, is +not less distinctly noble than their spirit and temper. The +alliterative verse, wherever it is found, declares itself as belonging +to an elaborate poetical tradition. The alliterative line is +rhetorically capable of a great amount of emphasis; it lends itself as +readily as the "drumming decasyllabon" of the Elizabethan style to +pompous declamation. Parallelism of phrases, the favourite rhetorical +device, especially with the old English poets, is incompatible with +tenuity of style; while the weight of the verse, as a rule, prevents +the richness of phrasing from becoming too extravagant and +frivolous.<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a></p> + +<p>The style of alliterative verse is not monotonous. Without reckoning +the forms that deviate from the common epic measure, such as the +Northern lyrical staves, there may be found in it as many varieties of +style as in English blank verse from the days of <i>Gorboduc</i> onward.</p> + +<p>In its oldest common form it may be supposed that the verse was not +distinctly epic or lyric; lyric rather than epic, lyric with such +amount of epic as is proper for psalms of triumph, or for the praise +of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> a king, the kind of verse that might be used for any sort of +<i>carmina</i>, such as for marking authorship and ownership on a sword or +a horn, for epitaphs or spells, or for vituperative epigrams.</p> + +<p>In England and the Continent the verse was early adapted for +continuous history. The lyrical and gnomic usages were not abandoned. +The poems of <i>Widsith</i> and <i>Deor's Lament</i> show how the allusive and +lyrical manner of referring to heroic legend was kept up in England. +The general tendency, however, seems to have favoured a different kind +of poetry. The common form of old English verse is fitted for +narrative. The ideal of the poets is one that would have the sense +"variously drawn out from one verse to another." When the verse is +lyrical in tone, as in the <i>Dream of the Rood</i>, or the <i>Wanderer</i>, the +lyrical passion is commonly that of mourning or regret, and the +expression is elegiac and diffuse, not abrupt or varied. The verse, +whether narrative or elegiac, runs in rhythmical periods; the sense is +not "concluded in the couplet." The lines are mortised into one +another; by preference, the sentences begin in the middle of a line. +The parallelism of the old poetry, and its wealth of paraphrase, +encourage deliberation in the sentences, though they are often +interrupted by a short sentence, generally introduced to point a +moral.</p> + +<p>The old Norse poetry, with many likenesses to the old English, had a +different taste in rhetorical syntax. Instead of the long-drawn +phrases of the English poetry, and an arrangement of sentences by +which the metrical limits of the line were generally disguised, the +Norse alliterative poetry adopted a mode of speech that allowed the +line to ring out clearly, and gave full force to the natural emphasis +of the rhythm.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + +<p>These two opposite rhetorical tendencies are illustrated also by the +several variations upon the common rhythm that found favour in one +region and the other. Where an English or a German alliterative poet +wishes to vary from the common metre, he uses the lengthened line, an +expansion of the simple line, which, from its volume, is less suitable +for pointed expression, and more capable of pathos or solemnity, than +the ordinary form of verse. The long line of the Saxon and English +poets is not used in the Norse poetry; there the favourite verse, +where the ordinary narrative line is discarded, is in the form of +gnomic couplets, in which, as in the classical elegiac measure, a full +line is succeeded by a truncated or broken rhythm, and with the same +effect of clinching the meaning of the first line as is commonly given +by the Greek or Latin pentameter. Of this favourite Northern measure +there are only one or two casual and sporadic instances in English +poetry; in the short dramatic lyric of the <i>Exeter Book</i>, interpreted +so ingeniously by Mr. Bradley and Mr. Gollancz, and in the gnomic +verses of the same collection.</p> + +<p>This difference of taste goes very far to explain the difference +between English and Norse epic; to appreciate the difference of style +is to understand the history of the early poetry. It was natural that +the more equable form of the English and the Continental German +narrative poetry should prove itself fit for extended and continuous +epic narrative; it was inevitable that the Norse intolerance of tame +expression, and of everything unimpassioned or unemphatic, should +prevent the growth of any of the larger and slower kinds of poetry.</p> + +<p>The triumphs of alliterative poetry in the first or English kind are +the long swelling passages of tragic monologue, of which the greatest +is in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> Saxon <i>Genesis</i>,—the speech of Satan after the fall from +heaven. The best of the Northern poetry is all but lyrical; the poem +of the Sibyl, the poems of Sigrun, Gudrun, Hervor.</p> + +<p>The nature of the two forms of poetry is revealed in their respective +manners of going wrong. The decline of the old English poetry is shown +by an increase of diffuseness and insipidity. The old Norse poetry was +attacked by an evil of a different sort, the malady of false wit and +over-decoration. The English poetry, when it loses strength and +self-control, is prone to monotonous lamentation; the Norse poetry is +tempted to overload itself with conceits.</p> + +<p>In the one there is excess of sentiment, in the other the contrary +vice of frigidity, and a premeditated and ostentatious use of +figurative expressions.</p> + +<p>The poem of <i>Beowulf</i> has known the insidious approach and temptation +of diffuse poetic melancholy. The Northern poems are corrupted by the +vanity of metaphor. To evade the right term for everything has been +the aim of many poetic schools; it has seldom been attained more +effectually than in the poetry of the Norwegian tongue.</p> + +<p>Periphrastic epithets are part of the original and common stock of the +Teutonic poetry. They form a large part of the vocabulary of common +phrases which bear witness to the affinity existing among the remains +of this poetry in all the dialects.<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a></p> + +<p>But this common device was differently applied in the end, by the two +literatures, English and Icelandic, in which the old forms of verse +held their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> ground longest against the rhyming forms. The tendency in +England was to make use of the well-worn epithets, to ply the +<i>Gradus</i>: the duller kind of Anglo-Saxon poetry is put together as +Latin verses are made in school,—an old-fashioned metaphor is all the +more esteemed for its age. The poets, and presumably their hearers, +are best content with familiar phrases. In Iceland, on the other hand, +there was an impatience of the old vocabulary, and a curiosity and +search for new figures, that in the complexity and absurdity of its +results is not approached by any school of "false wit" in the whole +range of literature.</p> + +<p>Already in the older forms of Northern poetry it is plain that there +is a tendency to lyrical emphasis which is unfavourable to the chances +of long narrative in verse. Very early, also, there are symptoms of +the familiar literary plague, the corruption of metaphor. Both these +tendencies have for their result the new school of poetry peculiar to +the North and the courts of the Northern kings and earls,—the Court +poetry, or poetry of the Scalds, which in its rise and progress +involved the failure of true epic. The German and English epic failed +by exhaustion in the competition with Latin and Romance literature, +though not without something to boast of before it went under. The +Northern epic failed, because of the premature development of lyrical +forms, first of all within itself, and then in the independent and +rival modes of the Scaldic poetry.</p> + +<p>The Scaldic poetry, though later in kind than the poems of <i>Codex +Regius</i>, is at least as old as the tenth century;<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> the latest of +the epic poems, <i>Atlamál</i> (the Greenland poem of Attila), and others,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +show marks of the influence of Court poetry, and are considerably +later in date than the earliest of the Scalds.</p> + +<p>The Court poetry is lyric, not epic. The aim of the Court poets was +not the narrative or the dramatic presentation of the greater heroic +legends; it was the elaborate decoration of commonplace themes, such +as the praise of a king, by every possible artifice of rhyme and +alliteration, of hard and exact construction of verse, and, above all, +of far-sought metaphorical allusions. In this kind of work, in the +praise of kings alive or dead, the poet was compelled to betake +himself to mythology and mythical history, like the learned poets of +other nations with their mythology of Olympus. In the mythology of +Asgard were contained the stores of precious names and epithets by +means of which the poems might be made to glitter and blaze.<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> It +was for the sake of poets like these that Snorri wrote his <i>Edda</i>, and +explained the mythical references available for the modern poetry of +his time, though fortunately his spirit and talent were not limited to +this didactic end, nor to the pedantries and deadly brilliance of +fashionable verse. By the time of Snorri the older kind of poetry had +become very much what Chaucer was to the Elizabethan sonneteers, or +Spenser to the contemporaries of Pope. It was regarded with some +amount of honour, and some condescension, but it had ceased to be the +right kind of poetry for a "courtly maker."</p> + +<p>The Northern poetry appears to have run through some of the same +stages as the poetry of Greece, though with insufficient results in +most of them. The epic poetry is incomplete, with all its nobility.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +The best things of the old poetry are dramatic—lyrical monologues, +like the song of the Sibyl, and Gudrun's story to Theodoric, or +dialogues like those of Helgi and Sigrun, Hervor and Angantyr. Before +any adequate large rendering had been accorded to those tragic +histories, the Northern poetry, in its impatience of length, had +discovered the idyllic mode of expression and the dramatic monologue, +in which there was no excuse for weakness and tameness, and, on the +contrary, great temptation to excess in emphatic and figurative +language. Instead of taking a larger scene and a more complex and +longer story, the poets seem to have been drawn more and more to cut +short the story and to intensify the lyrical passion of their dialogue +or monologue. Almost as if they had known the horror of infinite +flatness that is all about the literature of the Middle Ages, as if +there had fallen upon them, in that Aleïan plain, the shadow of the +enormous beast out of Aristotle's <i>Poetics</i>, they chose to renounce +all superfluity, and throw away the makeshift wedges and supports by +which an epic is held up. In this way they did great things, and +<i>Volospá</i> (the <i>Sibyl's Prophecy</i>) is their reward. To write out in +full the story of the Volsungs and Niblungs was left to the prose +compilers of the <i>Volsunga Saga</i>, and to the Austrian poet of the +<i>Nibelungenlied</i>.</p> + +<p>The <i>Volospá</i> is as far removed from the courtly odes and their manner +and ingenuity as the <i>Marriage Hymn</i> of Catullus from the <i>Coma +Berenices</i>. The <i>Volospá</i>, however, has this in common with the +mechanical odes, that equally with these it stands apart from epic, +that equally with these it fuses epic material into an alien form. The +sublimity of this great poem of the <i>Doom</i> is not like the majesty or +strength of epic. The voice is not the voice of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> teller of stories. +And it is here, not in true epic verse, that the Northern poetry +attains its height.</p> + +<p>It is no ignoble form of poetry that is represented by the <i>Sibyl's +Song</i> and the <i>Lament of Gudrun</i>. But it was not enough for the +ambition of the poets. They preferred the composition of correct and +elaborate poems in honour of great men, with much expenditure of +mythology and without passion;<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> one of the forms of poetry which +may be truly said to leave nothing to be desired, the most artificial +and mechanical poetry in the world, except possibly the +closely-related kinds in the traditional elaborate verse of Ireland or +of Wales.</p> + +<p>It was still possible to use this modern and difficult rhetoric, +occasionally, for subjects like those of the freer epic; to choose a +subject from heroic tradition and render it in the fashionable style. +The <i>Death-Song of Ragnar Lodbrok</i><a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> is the chief of those secondary +dramatic idylls. It is marked off by difference of verse, for one +thing, from the <i>Hamðismál</i> and the <i>Atlakviða</i>; and, besides this, it +has the characteristic of imitative and conventional heroic +literature—the unpersuasive and unconvincing force of the heroic +romance, the rhetoric of Almanzor. The end of the poem is fine, but it +does not ring quite true:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The gods will welcome me; there is nothing to bewail in +death. I am ready to go; they are calling me home, the +maidens whom Odin has sent to call me. With gladness will I +drink the ale, set high among the gods. The hours of life +are gone over; laughing will I die.</p></div> + +<p>It is not like the end of the sons of Gudrun; it is not of the same +kind as the last words of Sorli,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> which are simpler, and infinitely +more imaginative and true:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>We have fought; if we die to-day, if we die to-morrow, there +is little to choose. No man may speak when once the Fates +have spoken (<i>Hamðismál</i>, s.f.).</p></div> + +<p>It is natural that the <i>Song of Ragnar Lodbrok</i> should be appreciated +by modern authors. It is one of the documents responsible for the +conventional Valkyria and Valhalla of the Romantic School, and for +other stage properties, no longer new. The poem itself is in spirit +rather more nearly related to the work of Tegnér or Oehlenschläger +than to the <i>Volospá</i>. It is a secondary and literary version, a +"romantic" version of ideas and images belonging to a past time, and +studied by an antiquarian poet with an eye for historical +subjects.<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a></p> + +<p>The progress of epic was not at an end in the rise of the new Court +poetry that sounded sweeter in the ears of mortals than the old poems +of <i>Sigurd</i> and <i>Brynhild</i>. The conceits and the hard correctness of +the Scalds did not satisfy all the curiosity or the imaginative +appetite of their patrons. There still remained a desire for epic, or +at least for a larger and freer kind of historical discourse. This was +satisfied by the prose histories of the great men of Iceland, of the +kings of Norway and the lords of the Isles; histories the nearest to +true epic of all that have ever been spoken without verse. That the +chief of all the masters of this art should have been Snorri +Sturluson, the exponent and practitioner of the mystery of the Court +poets, is among the pleasantest of historical paradoxes.</p> + +<p>The development of the Court poetry to all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> extremes of "false wit," +and of glaring pretence and artificiality of style, makes the contrast +all the more vivid between its brocaded stiffness and the ease and +freedom of the Sagas. But even apart from the Court poetry, it is +clear that there was little chance for any development of the Northern +heroic poetry into an Homeric fulness of detail. In the Norse poetry, +as in Greek, the primitive forms of heroic dirges or hymns give place +to narrative poetry; and that again is succeeded by a new kind of +lyric, in which the ancient themes of the <i>Lament</i> and the <i>Song of +Praise</i> are adorned with the new ideas and the new diction of poets +who have come to study novelty, and have entered, though with far +other arms and accoutrements, on the same course as the Greek lyric +authors of dithyrambs and panegyrical odes. In this progress of poetry +from the unknown older songs, like those of which Tacitus speaks, to +the epic form as it is preserved in the "Elder Edda," and from the +epic form to the lyrical form of the Scalds, the second stage is +incomplete; the epic form is uncertain and half-developed. The rise of +the Court poetry is the most obvious explanation of this failure. The +Court poetry, with all its faults, is a completed form which had its +day of glory, and even rather more than its share of good fortune. It +is the characteristic and successful kind of poetry in Iceland and +Norway, just as other kinds of elaborate lyric were cultivated, to the +depreciation of epic, in Provence and in Italy. It was to the Court +poet that the prizes were given; the epic form was put out of favour, +generations before the fragments of it were gathered together and +preserved by the collector from whose books they have descended to the +extant manuscripts and the editions of the "Elder Edda."</p> + +<p>But at the same time it may be represented that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> the Court poetry was +as much effect as cause of the depreciation of epic. The lyrical +strain declared itself in the Northern epic poetry too strongly for +any such epic work as either <i>Beowulf</i> or the <i>Hêliand</i>. The bent was +given too early, and there was no recovery possible. The Court poetry, +in its rhetorical brilliance and its allusive phrases, as well as in +the hardness and correctness of its verse, is carrying out to +completion certain tastes and principles whose influence is manifest +throughout the other orders of old Northern poetry; and there is no +need to go to the Court poetry to explain the difference between the +history of Northern and of English alliterative verse, though it is by +means of the Court poetry that this difference may be brought into the +strongest light. The contrast between the English liking for +continuous discourse and the Norse liking for abrupt emphasis is +already to be discerned in the oldest literary documents of the two +nations.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="II.V"></a>V</h3> + +<h3>THE PROGRESS OF EPIC</h3> + +<h4>VARIOUS RENDERINGS OF THE SAME STORY</h4> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr><td>Due (1) to accidents of tradition and impersonal causes:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.8em">(2) to calculation and selection of motives by the poets,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em">and intentional modification of traditional matter.</span></td></tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p><span class="smcap"><i>Beowulf</i></span>, as the poem stands, is quite a different sort of thing from +the poems in the Copenhagen manuscript. It is given out by its scribes +in all the glory of a large poem, handsomely furnished with a prelude, +a conclusion, and divisions into several books. It has the look of a +substantial epic poem. It was evidently regarded as something +considerable, as a work of eminent virtue and respectability. The +Northern poems, treasured and highly valued as they evidently were, +belong to a different fashion. In the <i>Beowulf</i> of the existing +manuscript the fluctuation and variation of the older epic tradition +has been controlled by editors who have done their best to establish a +text of the poem. The book has an appearance of authority. There is +little of this in the Icelandic manuscript. The Northern poems have +evidently been taken as they were found. Imperfections of tradition, +which in <i>Beowulf</i> would have been glossed over by an editorial +process, are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> here left staring at the reader. The English poem +pretends to be a literary work of importance—a book, in short; while +the Icelandic verses are plainly gathered from all quarters, and in +such a condition as to defy the best intentions of the editor, who did +his best to understand what he heard, but had no consistent policy of +improvement or alteration, to correct the accidental errors and +discrepancies of the oral communications.</p> + +<p>Further, and apart from the accidents of this particular book, there +is in the poems, even when they are best preserved, a character of +fluctuation and uncertainty, belonging to an older and less literary +fashion of poetry than that of <i>Beowulf</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Beowulf</i> has been regarded by some as a composite epic poem made out +of older and shorter poems. <i>Codex Regius</i> shows that this hypothesis +is dealing with an undoubted <i>vera causa</i> when it talks of short lays +on heroic subjects, and of the variations of treatment to be found in +different lays on one and the same theme, and of the possibilities of +contamination.</p> + +<p>Thus, in considering the story of Beowulf's descent under water, and +the difficulties and contradictions of that story as it stands, Ten +Brink has been led to suppose that the present text is made up of two +independent versions, run together by an editor in a hazardous way +without regard to the differences in points of detail, which still +remain to the annoyance of the careful reader.</p> + +<p>There is no great risk in the assumption that there were different +versions of the fight with Grendel's mother, which may have been +carelessly put together into one version in spite of their +contradictions. In the <i>Codex Regius</i> there are three different +versions of the death of the Niblungs, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> <i>Atlakviða</i>, <i>Atlamál</i>, +and the <i>Lament of Oddrun</i>. The <i>Lament of Oddrun</i> is vitally +different from the other two poems, and these differ from one another, +with regard to the motive of Atli's feud with Gunnar. It is possible +for the human mind to imagine an editor, a literary man, capable of +blending the poems in order to make a larger book. This would be +something like the process which Ten Brink has suspected in the +composition of this part of <i>Beowulf</i>. It is one thing, however, to +detect the possibility of such misdemeanours; and quite another thing +to suppose that it is by methods such as these that the bulk of the +larger epic is swollen beyond the size of common lays or ballads. It +is impossible, at any rate, by any reduction or analysis of <i>Beowulf</i>, +to get rid of its stateliness of narrative; it would be impossible by +any fusion or aggregation of the Eddic lays to get rid of their +essential brevity. No accumulation of lays can alter the style from +its trick of detached and abrupt suggestions to the slower and more +equable mode.</p> + +<p>That there was a growth of epic among the Teutonic nations is what is +proved by all the documents. This growth was of the same general kind +as the progress of any of the great forms of literature—the Drama, +the Novel. Successive generations of men, speaking the same or similar +forms of language, made poetical experiments in a common +subject-manner, trying different ways of putting things, and changing +their forms of poetry according to local and personal variations of +taste; so that the same story might be told over and over again, in +different times, with different circumstances.</p> + +<p>In one region the taste might be all for compression, for increase of +the tension, for suppression of the tamer intervals in the story. In +another it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> might run to greater length and ease, and favour a gradual +explication of the plot.</p> + +<p>The "Elder Edda" shows that contamination was possible. It shows that +there might be frequent independent variations on the same theme, and +that, apart from any editorial work, these versions might occasionally +be shuffled and jumbled by mere accidents of recollection.</p> + +<p>Thus there is nothing contrary to the evidence in the theory that a +redactor of <i>Beowulf</i> may have had before him different versions of +different parts of the poem, corresponding to one another, more or +less, as <i>Atlamál</i> corresponds to the <i>Atlakviða</i>. This hypothesis, +however, does not account for the difference in form between the +English and the Northern poems. No handling of the <i>Atlamál</i> or the +<i>Atlakviða</i> could produce anything like the appearance of <i>Beowulf</i>. +The contaminating editor may be useful as an hypothesis in certain +particular cases. But the heroic poetry got on very well without him, +generally speaking. It grew by a free and natural growth into a +variety of forms, through the ambitions and experiments of poets.</p> + +<p>Variety is evident in the poems that lie outside the Northern group; +<i>Finnesburh</i> is of a different order from <i>Waldere</i>. It is in the +Northern collection, however, that the variety is most evident. There +the independent versions of the same story are brought together, side +by side. The experiments of the old school are ranged there; and the +fact that experiments were made, that the old school was not satisfied +with its conventions, is perhaps the most legitimate inference, and +one of the most significant, to be made by a reader of the poems.</p> + +<p>Variations on similar themes are found in all popular poetry; here +again the poems of the <i>Edda</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> present themselves as akin to ballads. +Here again they are distinguished from ballads by their greater degree +of ambition and self-consciousness. For it will not do to dismiss the +Northern poems on the Volsung story as a mere set of popular +variations on common themes. The more carefully they are examined, the +less will be the part assigned to chance and imperfect recollection in +producing the variety of the poems. The variation, where there are +different presentations of the same subject, is not produced by +accident or the casual and faulty repetition of a conventional type of +poem, but by a poetical ambition for new forms. <i>Codex Regius</i> is an +imperfect monument of a time of poetical energy in which old forms +were displaced by new, and old subjects refashioned by successive +poets. As in the Athenian or the English drama the story of Oedipus or +of Lear might be taken up by one playwright after another, so in the +North the Northern stories were made to pass through changes in the +minds of different poets.</p> + +<p>The analogy to the Greek and the English drama need not be forced. +Without any straining of comparisons, it may be argued that the +relation of the <i>Atlamál</i> and <i>Atlakviða</i> is like the relation of +Euripides to Aeschylus, and not so much like the variations of ballad +tradition, in this respect, that the <i>Atlamál</i> is a careful, +deliberate, and somewhat conceited attempt to do better in a new way +what has been done before by an older poet. The idylls of the +heroines, Brynhild, Gudrun, Oddrun, are not random and unskilled +variations; they are considerate and studied poems, expressing new +conceptions and imaginations.</p> + +<p>It is true that this poetry is still, in many respects, in the +condition of popular poetry and popular<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> traditional stories. The +difference of plot in some versions of the same subject appears to be +due to the ordinary causes that produce the variants of popular +tales,—defective memory, accidental loss of one point in the story, +and change of emphasis in another. To causes such as these, to the +common impersonal accidents of tradition, may perhaps be referred one +of the strangest of all the alterations in the bearing of a story—the +variation of plot in the tradition of the Niblungs.</p> + +<p>In the "Elder Edda" the death of the Niblungs is laid to the charge of +Attila; their sister Gudrun does her best to save them; when she fails +in this, she takes vengeance for them on her husband.</p> + +<p>In the German tradition, as in the version known to Saxo in the +<i>Nibelungenlied</i>, in the Danish ballad of <i>Grimild's Revenge</i> (which +is borrowed from the German), the lines are laid quite differently. +There it is their sister who brings about the death of the kings; it +is the wife of Sigfred, of Sigfred whom they have killed, that exacts +vengeance from her brothers Gunther and Hagene. Attila is here put +aside. Gudrun's slaughter of her children is unrecorded; there is no +motive for it when all her anger is turned against her brothers. This +shifting of the centre of a story is not easy to explain. But, +whatever the explanation may be, it seems probable that it lies +somewhere within the range of popular tradition, that the change is +due to some of the common causes of the transformation of stories, and +not to a definite and calculated poetical modification. The tragical +complications are so many in the story of the Niblungs that there +could not fail to be variations in the traditional interpretation of +motives, even without the assistance of the poets and their new +readings of character.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + +<p>In some of the literary documents there may be found two kinds of +variation from an original form of story,—variation due to those +popular and indefinite causes, the variation of failing memory, on the +one hand; and on the other, variation due to the ambition or conceit +of an author with ideas of his own.</p> + +<p>A comparison of the <i>Atlakviða</i>, the <i>Atlamál</i>, and the <i>Lamentation +of Oddrun</i> may at first suggest that we have here to deal with just +such variants as are common wherever stories are handed on by oral +tradition. Further consideration will more and more reduce the part +allotted to oral maltreatment, and increase the part of intentional +and artistic modification, in the variations of story to be found in +these poems.</p> + +<p>All three poems are agreed in their ignorance of the variation which +makes the wife of Sigfred into the avenger of his death. In all three +it is Attila who brings about the death of the brothers of Gudrun.</p> + +<p>It seems to have been a constant part of the traditional story, as +known to the authors of these three poems, that Attila, when he had +the brothers of Gudrun in his power, gave order to cut out the heart +of Hogni, and thereafter to throw Gunnar into the serpents' den.</p> + +<p>The <i>Atlakviða</i> presents an intelligible explanation of this; the +other two poems leave this part of the action rather vague.</p> + +<p>In the <i>Atlakviða</i> the motive of Attila's original hatred is left at +first unexplained, but comes out in the circumstances of the death of +the Niblungs. When the Burgundian kings are seized and bound, they are +called upon to buy themselves off with gold. It is understood in +Gunnar's reply, that the gold of the Niblung treasure is what is +sought for.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> He asks that the heart of Hogni may be brought to him. +They bring him, instead, the heart of Hialli, which Gunnar detects at +once as the heart of a coward. Then at last the heart of Hogni is cut +out and brought to Gunnar; and then he defies the Huns, and keeps his +secret.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Now is the hoard of the Niblungs all in my keeping alone, +for Hogni is dead: there was doubt while we two lived, but +now there is doubt no more. Rhine shall bear rule over the +gold of jealousy, the eager river over the Niblung's +heritage; the goodly rings shall gleam in the whirling +water, they shall not pass to the children of the Huns.</p></div> + +<p>Gunnar was thrown among the snakes, and there he harped upon his harp +before his death came on him. The end of Gunnar is not told +explicitly; the story goes on to the vengeance of Gudrun.</p> + +<p>In the <i>Oddrúnargrátr</i> there is another motive for Attila's enmity to +Gunnar: not the gold of the Niblungs, but the love that was between +Gunnar and Oddrun (Oddrun was the sister of Attila and Brynhild). The +death of Brynhild is alluded to, but that is not the chief motive. The +gold of the Niblungs is not mentioned. Still, however, the death of +Hogni precedes the death of Gunnar,—"They cut out the heart of Hogni, +and his brother they set in the serpents' close." Gunnar played upon +his harp among the serpents, and for a long time escaped them; but the +old serpent came out at last and crawled to his heart. It is implied +that the sound of his music is a charm for the serpents; but another +motive is given by Oddrun, as she tells the story: Gunnar played on +his harp for Oddrun, to be heard by her, so that she could come to +help him. But she came too late.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> + +<p>It might be inferred from this poem that the original story of the +death of Hogni has been imperfectly recollected by the poet who +touches lightly on it and gives no explanation here. It is fairer to +suppose that it was passed over because it was irrelevant. The poet +had chosen for his idyll the love of Gunnar and Oddrun, a part of the +story which is elsewhere referred to among these poems, namely in the +<i>Long Lay of Brynhild</i> (l. 58). By his choice of this, and his +rendering of it in dramatic monologue, he debarred himself from any +emphatic use of the motive for Hogni's death. It cannot be inferred +from his explanation of Gunnar's harp-playing that the common +explanation was unknown to him. On the contrary, it is implied here, +just as much as in <i>Atlakviða</i>, that the serpents are kept from him by +the music, until the old sleepless one gives him his death. But the +poet, while he keeps this incident of the traditional version, is not +particularly interested in it, except as it affords him a new occasion +to return to his main theme of the love story. Gunnar's music is a +message to Oddrun. This is an imaginative and dramatic adaptation of +old material, not a mere lapse of memory, not a mere loss of the +traditional bearings of the story.</p> + +<p>The third of these poems, the <i>Atlamál</i>, is in some respects the most +remarkable of them all. In its plot it has more than the others, at +the first reading, the appearance of a faulty recollection; for, while +it makes a good deal of play with the circumstances of the death of +Hogni, it misses, or appears to miss, the point of the story; the +motive of Gunnar, which is evident and satisfactory in the +<i>Atlakviða</i>, is here suppressed or dropped. The gold of the Niblungs +is not in the story at all; the motive of Attila appears to be anger +at the death of his sister Brynhild,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> Gunnar's wife, but his motive is +not much dwelt on. It is as if the author had forgotten the run of +events, like a blundering minstrel.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, the poem in its style is further from all the +manners of popular poetry, more affected and rhetorical, than any of +the other pieces in the book. It is written in the <i>málaháttr</i>, a +variety of the common epic measure, with a monotonous cadence; the +sort of measure that commends itself to an ambitious and rhetorical +poet with a fancy for correctness and regularity. The poem has its +origin in an admiration for the character of Gudrun, and a desire to +bring out more fully than in the older poems the tragic thoughts and +passion of the heroine. Gudrun's anxiety for her brothers' safety, and +her warning message to them not to come to the Court of the Huns, had +been part of the old story. In the <i>Atlakviða</i> she sends them a token, +a ring with a wolf's hair twisted round it, which is noticed by Hogni +but not accepted by Gunnar. In the <i>Atlamál</i> something more is made of +this; her message here is written in runes, and these are falsified on +the way by Attila's messenger, so that the warning is at first unread. +But the confusion of the runes is detected by the wife of Hogni, and +so the story opens with suspense and forebodings of the doom. The +death of Hogni and Gunnar is explained in a new way, and always with +the passion of Gudrun as the chief theme. In this story the fight of +the Niblungs and the Huns is begun outside the doors of the hall. +Gudrun hears the alarm and rushes out with a welcome to her +brothers,—"that was their last greeting,"—and a cry of lamentation +over their neglect of her runes. Then she tries to make peace, and +when she fails in that, takes up a sword and fights for her brothers. +It is out of rage and spite against Gudrun, and in order<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> to tame her +spirit, that Attila has the heart of Hogni cut out of him, and sends +Gunnar to the serpents.</p> + +<p>All this change in the story is the result of meditation and not of +forgetfulness. Right or wrong, the poet has devised his story in his +own way, and his motives are easily discovered. He felt that the +vengeance of Gudrun required to be more carefully and fully explained. +Her traditional character was not quite consistent with the horrors of +her revenge. In the <i>Atlamál</i> the character of Gudrun is so conceived +as to explain her revenge,—the killing of her children follows close +upon her fury in the battle, and the cruelty of Attila is here a +direct challenge to Gudrun, not, as in the <i>Atlakviða</i>, a mere +incident in Attila's search for the Niblung treasure. The cruelty of +the death of Hogni in the <i>Atlakviða</i> is purely a matter of business; +it is not of Attila's choosing, and apparently he favours the attempt +to save Hogni by the sacrifice of Hialli the feeble man. In the +<i>Atlamál</i> it is to save Hogni from Attila that Hialli the cook is +chased into a corner and held under the knife. This comic interlude is +one of the liveliest passages of the poem. It serves to increase the +strength of Hogni. Hogni begs them to let the creature go,—"Why +should we have to put up with his squalling?" It may be observed that +in this way the poet gets out of a difficulty. It is not in his design +to have the coward's heart offered to Gunnar; he has dropped that part +of the story entirely. Gunnar is not asked to give up the treasure, +and has no reason to protect his secret by asking for the death of his +brother; and there would be no point in keeping the incident for the +benefit of Attila. That Gunnar should first detect the imposture, and +should then recognise the heart of his brother, is a fine piece of +heroic imagination of a primitive kind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> It would have been wholly +inept and spiritless to transfer this from Gunnar to Attila. The poet +of <i>Atlamál</i> shows that he understands what he is about. The more his +work is scrutinised, the more evident becomes the sobriety of his +judgment. His dexterity in the disposing of his incidents is proved in +every particular. While a first reading of the poem and a first +comparison with the story of <i>Atlakviða</i> may suggest the blundering +and irresponsible ways of popular reciters, a very little attention +will serve to bring out the difference and to justify this poet. He is +not an improviser; his temptations are of another sort. He is the poet +of a second generation, one of those who make up by energy of +intelligence for their want of original and spontaneous imagination. +It is not that he is cold or dull; but there is something wanting in +the translation of his thoughts into speech. His metres are hammered +out; the precision of his verse is out of keeping with the fury of his +tragic purport. The faults are the faults of overstudy, the faults of +correctness and maturity.</p> + +<p>The significance of the <i>Atlamál</i> is considerable in the history of +the Northern poetry. It may stand for the furthest mark in one +particular direction; the epic poetry of the North never got further +than this. If <i>Beowulf</i> or <i>Waldere</i> may perhaps represent the highest +accomplishment of epic in old English verse, the <i>Atlamál</i> has, at +least, as good a claim in the other language. The <i>Atlamál</i> is not the +finest of the old poems. That place belongs, without any question, to +the <i>Volospá</i>, the Sibyl's Song of the judgment; and among the others +there are many that surpass the <i>Atlamál</i> in beauty. But the <i>Atlamál</i> +is complete; it is a work of some compass, diligently planned and +elaborated. Further, although it has many of the marks of the new +rhetoric, these do not change<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> its character as a narrative poem. It +is a narrative poem, not a poem of lyrical allusions, not an heroic +ode. It is at once the largest and the most harmonious in construction +of all the poems. It proves that the change of the Northern poetry, +from narrative to the courtly lyric, was a change not made without +fair opportunity to the older school to show what it was worth. The +variety of the three poems of Attila, ending in the careful rhetoric +of the <i>Atlamál</i>, is proof sufficient of the labour bestowed by +different poets in their use of the epic inheritance. Great part of +the history of the North is misread, unless account is taken of the +artistic study, the invention, the ingenuity, that went to the making +of those poems. This variety is not the confusion of barbarous +tradition, or the shifts and experiments of improvisers. The prosody +and the rhetorical furniture of the poems might prevent that +misinterpretation. It might be prevented also by an observation of the +way the matter is dealt with, even apart from the details of the +language and the style. The proof from these two quarters, from the +matter and from the style, is not easily impugned.</p> + +<p>So the first impression is discredited, and so it appears that the +"Elder Edda," for all its appearance of disorder, haste, and hazard, +really contains a number of specimens of art, not merely a heap of +casual and rudimentary variants. The poems of the Icelandic manuscript +assert themselves as individual and separate works. They are not the +mere makings of an epic, the mere materials ready to the hand of an +editor. It still remains true that they are defective, but it is true +also that they are the work of artists, and of a number of artists +with different aims and ideals. The earliest of them is long past the +stage of popular improvisation, and the latest has the qualities<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> of a +school that has learned more art than is good for it.</p> + +<p>The defect of the Northern epic is that it allowed itself to be too +soon restricted in its scope. It became too minute, too emphatic, too +intolerant of the comfortable dilutions, the level intervals, between +the critical moments.<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> It was too much affected by the vanities of +the rival Scaldic poetry; it was overcome by rhetoric. But it cannot +be said that it went out tamely.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="II.VI"></a>VI</h3> + +<h3><i>BEOWULF</i></h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> poem of <i>Beowulf</i> has been sorely tried; critics have long been at +work on the body of it, to discover how it is made. It gives many +openings for theories of agglutination and adulteration. Many things +in it are plainly incongruous. The pedigree of Grendel is not +authentic; the Christian sentiments and morals are not in keeping with +the heroic or the mythical substance of the poem; the conduct of the +narrative is not always clear or easy to follow. These difficulties +and contradictions have to be explained; the composition of the poem +has to be analysed; what is old has to be separated from what is new +and adventitious; and the various senses and degrees of "old" and +"new" have to be determined, in the criticism of the poem. With all +this, however, the poem continues to possess at least an apparent and +external unity. It is an extant book, whatever the history of its +composition may have been; the book of the adventures of Beowulf, +written out fair by two scribes in the tenth century; an epic poem, +with a prologue at the beginning, and a judgment pronounced on the +life of the hero at the end; a single book, considered as such by its +transcribers, and making a claim to be so considered.</p> + +<p>Before any process of disintegration is begun, this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> claim should be +taken into account; the poem deserves to be appreciated as it stands. +Whatever may be the secrets of its authorship, it exists as a single +continuous narrative poem; and whatever its faults may be, it holds a +position by itself, and a place of some honour, as the one extant poem +of considerable length in the group to which it belongs. It has a +meaning and value apart from the questions of its origin and its mode +of production. Its present value as a poem is not affected by proofs +or arguments regarding the way in which it may have been patched or +edited. The patchwork theory has no power to make new faults in the +poem; it can only point out what faults exist, and draw inferences +from them. It does not take away from any dignity the book may possess +in its present form, that it has been subjected to the same kind of +examination as the <i>Iliad</i>. The poem may be reviewed as it stands, in +order to find out what sort of thing passed for heroic poetry with the +English at the time the present copy of the poem was written. However +the result was obtained, <i>Beowulf</i> is, at any rate, the specimen by +which the Teutonic epic poetry must be judged. It is the largest +monument extant. There is nothing beyond it, in that kind, in respect +of size and completeness. If the old Teutonic epic is judged to have +failed, it must be because <i>Beowulf</i> is a failure.</p> + +<p>Taking the most cursory view of the story of <i>Beowulf</i>, it is easy to +recognise that the unity of the plot is not like the unity of the +<i>Iliad</i> or the <i>Odyssey</i>. One is inclined at first to reckon <i>Beowulf</i> +along with those epics of which Aristotle speaks, the <i>Heracleids</i> and +<i>Theseids</i>, the authors of which "imagined that because Heracles was +one person the story of his life could not fail to have unity."<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> +<p>It is impossible to reduce the poem of <i>Beowulf</i> to the scale of +Aristotle's <i>Odyssey</i> without revealing the faults of structure in the +English poem:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>A man in want of work goes abroad to the house of a certain +king troubled by Harpies, and having accomplished the +purification of the house returns home with honour. Long +afterwards, having become king in his own country, he kills +a dragon, but is at the same time choked by the venom of it. +His people lament for him and build his tomb.</p></div> + +<p>Aristotle made a summary of the Homeric poem, because he wished to +show how simple its construction really was, apart from the episodes. +It is impossible, by any process of reduction and simplification, to +get rid of the duality in <i>Beowulf</i>. It has many episodes, quite +consistent with a general unity of action, but there is something more +than episodes, there is a sequel. It is as if to the <i>Odyssey</i> there +had been added some later books telling in full of the old age of +Odysseus, far from the sea, and his death at the hands of his son +Telegonus. The adventure with the dragon is separate from the earlier +adventures. It is only connected with them because the same person is +involved in both.</p> + +<p>It is plain from Aristotle's words that the <i>Iliad</i> and the <i>Odyssey</i> +were in this, as in all respects, above and beyond the other Greek +epics known to Aristotle. Homer had not to wait for <i>Beowulf</i> to serve +as a foil to his excellence. That was provided in the other epic poems +of Greece, in the cycle of Troy, in the epic stories of Theseus and +Heracles. It seems probable that the poem of <i>Beowulf</i> may be at least +as well knit as the <i>Little Iliad</i>, the Greek cyclic poem of which +Aristotle names the principal incidents, con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>trasting its variety with +the simplicity of the <i>Iliad</i> and <i>Odyssey</i>.<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a></p> + +<p>Indeed it is clear that the plan of <i>Beowulf</i> might easily have been +much worse, that is, more lax and diffuse, than it is. This meagre +amount of praise will be allowed by the most grudging critics, if they +will only think of the masses of French epic, and imagine the extent +to which a French company of poets might have prolonged the narrative +of the hero's life—the <i>Enfances</i>, the <i>Chevalerie</i>—before reaching +the <i>Death of Beowulf</i>.</p> + +<p>At line 2200 in <i>Beowulf</i> comes the long interval of time, the fifty +years between the adventure at Heorot and the fight between Beowulf +and the dragon. Two thousand lines are given to the first story, a +thousand to the <i>Death of Beowulf</i>. Two thousand lines are occupied +with the narrative of Beowulf's expedition, his voyage to Denmark, his +fight with Grendel and Grendel's mother, his return to the land of the +Gauts and his report of the whole matter to King Hygelac. In this part +of the poem, taken by itself, there is no defect of unity. The action +is one, with different parts all easily and naturally included between +the first voyage and the return. It is amplified and complicated with +details, but none of these introduce any new main interests. <i>Beowulf</i> +is not like the <i>Heracleids</i> and <i>Theseids</i>. It transgresses the +limits of the Homeric unity, by adding a sequel; but for all that it +is not a mere string of adventures, like the bad epic in Horace's <i>Art +of Poetry</i>, or the innocent plays described by Sir Philip Sidney and +Cervantes. A third of the whole poem is detached, a separate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +adventure. The first two-thirds taken by themselves form a complete +poem, with a single action; while, in the orthodox epic manner, +various allusions and explanations are introduced regarding the past +history of the personages involved, and the history of other people +famous in tradition. The adventure at Heorot, taken by itself, would +pass the scrutiny of Aristotle or Horace, as far as concerns the lines +of its composition.</p> + +<p>There is variety in it, but the variety is kept in order and not +allowed to interfere or compete with the main story. The past history +is disclosed, and the subordinate novels are interpolated, as in the +<i>Odyssey</i>, in the course of an evening's conversation in hall, or in +some other interval in the action. In the introduction of accessory +matter, standing in different degrees of relevance to the main plot, +the practice of <i>Beowulf</i> is not essentially different from that of +classical epic.</p> + +<p>In the <i>Iliad</i> we are allowed to catch something of the story of the +old time before Agamemnon,—the war of Thebes, Lycurgus, Jason, +Heracles,—and even of things less widely notable, less of a concern +to the world than the voyage of Argo, such as, for instance, the +business of Nestor in his youth. In <i>Beowulf</i>, in a similar way, the +inexhaustible world outside the story is partly represented by means +of allusions and digressions. The tragedy of Finnesburh is sung by the +harper, and his song is reported at some length, not merely referred +to in passing. The stories of Thrytho, of Heremod, of Sigemund the +Wælsing and Fitela his son (Sigmund and Sinfiotli), are introduced +like the stories of Lycurgus or of Jason in Homer. They are +illustrations of the action, taken from other cycles. The fortunes of +the Danish and Gautish kings, the fall of Hygelac, the feuds with +Sweden,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> these matters come into closer relation with the story. They +are not so much illustrations taken in from without, as points of +attachment between the history of <i>Beowulf</i> and the untold history all +round it, the history of the persons concerned, along with Beowulf +himself, in the vicissitudes of the Danish and Gautish kingdoms.</p> + +<p>In the fragments of <i>Waldere</i>, also, there are allusions to other +stories. In <i>Waldere</i> there has been lost a poem much longer and +fuller than the <i>Lay of Hildebrand</i>, or any of the poems of the "Elder +Edda"—a poem more like <i>Beowulf</i> than any of those now extant. The +references to Weland, to Widia Weland's son, to Hama and Theodoric, +are of the same sort as the references in <i>Beowulf</i> to the story of +Froda and Ingeld, or the references in the <i>Iliad</i> to the adventures +of Tydeus.</p> + +<p>In the episodic passages of <i>Beowulf</i> there are, curiously, the same +degrees of relevance as in the <i>Iliad</i> and <i>Odyssey</i>.</p> + +<p>Some of them are necessary to the proper fulness of the story, though +not essential parts of the plot. Such are the references to Beowulf's +swimming-match; and such, in the <i>Odyssey</i>, is the tale told to +Alcinous.</p> + +<p>The allusions to the wars of Hygelac have the same value as the +references in the <i>Iliad</i> and the <i>Odyssey</i> to such portions of the +tale of Troy, and of the return of the Greek lords, as are not +immediately connected with the anger of Achilles, or the return of +Odysseus. The tale of <i>Finnesburh</i> in <i>Beowulf</i> is purely an +interlude, as much as the ballad of <i>Ares and Aphrodite</i> in the +<i>Odyssey</i>.</p> + +<p>Many of the references to other legends in the <i>Iliad</i> are +illustrative and comparative, like the passages about Heremod or +Thrytho in <i>Beowulf</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> "Ares suffered when Otus and Ephialtes kept him +in a brazen vat, Hera suffered and Hades suffered, and were shot with +the arrows of the son of Amphitryon" (<i>Il.</i> v. 385). The long +parenthetical story of Heracles in a speech of Agamemnon (<i>Il.</i> xx. +98) has the same irrelevance of association, and has incurred the same +critical suspicions, as the contrast of Hygd and Thrytho, a fairly +long passage out of a wholly different story, introduced in <i>Beowulf</i> +on the very slightest of suggestions.</p> + +<p>Thus in <i>Beowulf</i> and in the Homeric poems there are episodes that are +strictly relevant and consistent, filling up the epic plan, opening +out the perspective of the story; also episodes that without being +strictly relevant are rightly proportioned and subordinated, like the +interlude of Finnesburh, decoration added to the structure, but not +overloading it, nor interfering with the design; and, thirdly, +episodes that seem to be irrelevant, and may possibly be +interpolations. All these kinds have the effect of increasing the mass +as well as the variety of the work, and they give to <i>Beowulf</i> the +character of a poem which, in dealing with one action out of an heroic +cycle, is able, by the way, to hint at and partially represent a great +number of other stories.</p> + +<p>It is not in the episodes alone that <i>Beowulf</i> has an advantage over +the shorter and more summary poems. The frequent episodes are only +part of the general liberality of the narrative.</p> + +<p>The narrative is far more cramped than in <i>Homer</i>; but when compared +with the short method of the Northern poems, not to speak of the +ballads, it comes out as itself Homeric by contrast. It succeeds in +representing pretty fully and continuously, not by mere allusions and +implications, certain portions of heroic life and action.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> + +<p>The principal actions in <i>Beowulf</i> are curiously trivial, taken by +themselves. All around them are the rumours of great heroic and tragic +events, and the scene and the personages are heroic and magnificent. +But the plot in itself has no very great poetical value; as compared +with the tragic themes of the Niblung legend, with the tale of +Finnesburh, or even with the historical seriousness of the <i>Maldon</i> +poem, it lacks weight. The largest of the extant poems of this school +has the least important subject-matter; while things essentially and +in the abstract more important, like the tragedy of Froda and Ingeld, +are thrust away into the corners of the poem.</p> + +<p>In the killing of a monster like Grendel, or in the killing of a +dragon, there is nothing particularly interesting; no complication to +make a fit subject for epic. <i>Beowulf</i> is defective from the first in +respect of plot.</p> + +<p>The story of Grendel and his mother is one that has been told in +myriads of ways; there is nothing commoner, except dragons. The +killing of dragons and other monsters is the regular occupation of the +heroes of old wives' tales; and it is difficult to give individuality +or epic dignity to commonplaces of this sort. This, however, is +accomplished in the poem of <i>Beowulf</i>. Nothing can make the story of +Grendel dramatic like the story of Waldere or of Finnesburh. But the +poet has, at any rate, in connexion with this simple theme, given a +rendering, consistent, adequate, and well-proportioned, of certain +aspects of life and certain representative characters in an heroic +age.</p> + +<p>The characters in <i>Beowulf</i> are not much more than types; not much +more clearly individual than the persons of a comedy of Terence. In +the shorter Northern poems there are the characters of Brynhild and +Gudrun; there is nothing in <i>Beowulf</i> to compare<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> with them, although +in <i>Beowulf</i> the personages are consistent with themselves, and +intelligible.</p> + +<p>Hrothgar is the generous king whose qualities were in Northern history +transferred to his nephew Hrothulf (Hrolf Kraki), the type of peaceful +strength, a man of war living quietly in the intervals of war.</p> + +<p>Beowulf is like him in magnanimity, but his character is less uniform. +He is not one of the more cruel adventurers, like Starkad in the myth, +or some of the men of the Icelandic Sagas. But he is an adventurer +with something strange and not altogether safe in his disposition. His +youth was like that of the lubberly younger sons in the fairy stories. +"They said that he was slack." Though he does not swagger like a +Berserk, nor "gab" like the Paladins of Charlemagne, he is ready on +provocation to boast of what he has done. The pathetic sentiment of +his farewell to Hrothgar is possibly to be ascribed, in the details of +its rhetoric, to the common affection of Anglo-Saxon poetry for the +elegiac mood; but the softer passages are not out of keeping with the +wilder moments of <i>Beowulf</i>, and they add greatly to the interest of +his character. He is more variable, more dramatic, than the king and +queen of the Danes, or any of the secondary personages.</p> + +<p>Wealhtheo, the queen, represents the poetical idea of a noble lady. +There is nothing complex or strongly dramatic in her character.</p> + +<p>Hunferth, the envious man, brought in as a foil to Beowulf, is not +caricatured or exaggerated. His sourness is that of a critic and a +politician, disinclined to accept newcomers on their own valuation. He +is not a figure of envy in a moral allegory.</p> + +<p>In the latter part of the poem it is impossible to find in the +character of Wiglaf more than the general and abstract qualities of +the "loyal servitor."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + +<p>Yet all those abstract and typical characters are introduced in such a +way as to complete and fill up the picture. The general impression is +one of variety and complexity, though the elements of it are simple +enough.</p> + +<p>With a plot like that of <i>Beowulf</i> it might seem that there was danger +of a lapse from the more serious kind of heroic composition into a +more trivial kind. Certainly there is nothing in the plain story to +give much help to the author; nothing in Grendel to fascinate or tempt +a poet with a story made to his hand.</p> + +<p>The plot of <i>Beowulf</i> is not more serious than that of a thousand +easy-going romances of chivalry, and of fairy tales beyond all number.</p> + +<p>The strength of what may be called an epic tradition is shown in the +superiority of <i>Beowulf</i> to the temptations of cheap romantic +commonplace. Beowulf, the hero, is, after all, something different +from the giant-killer of popular stories, the dragon-slayer of the +romantic schools. It is the virtue and the triumph of the poet of +<i>Beowulf</i> that when all is done the characters of the poem remain +distinct in the memory, that the thoughts and sentiments of the poem +are remembered as significant, in a way that is not the way of the +common romance. Although the incidents that take up the principal part +of the scene of <i>Beowulf</i> are among the commonest in popular stories, +it is impossible to mistake the poem for one of the ordinary tales of +terror and wonder. The essential part of the poem is the drama of +characters; though the plot happens to be such that the characters are +never made to undergo a tragic ordeal like that of so many of the +other Teutonic stories. It is not incorrect to say of the poem of +<i>Beowulf</i> that the main story is really less important to the +imagination<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> than the accessories by which the characters are defined +and distinguished. It is the defect of the poem this should be so. +There is a constitutional weakness in it.</p> + +<p>Although the two stories of <i>Beowulf</i> are both commonplace, there is a +difference between the story of Grendel and the story of the dragon.</p> + +<p>The story of the dragon is more of a commonplace than the other. +Almost every one of any distinction, and many quite ordinary people in +certain periods of history have killed dragons; from Hercules and +Bellerophon to Gawain, who, on different occasions, narrowly escaped +the fate of Beowulf; from Harald Hardrada (who killed two at least) to +More of More Hall who killed the dragon of Wantley.</p> + +<p>The latter part of <i>Beowulf</i> is a tissue of commonplaces of every +kind: the dragon and its treasure; the devastation of the land; the +hero against the dragon; the defection of his companions; the loyalty +of one of them; the fight with the dragon; the dragon killed, and the +hero dying from the flame and the venom of it; these are commonplaces +of the story, and in addition to these there are commonplaces of +sentiment, the old theme of this transitory life that "fareth as a +fantasy," the lament for the glory passed away; and the equally common +theme of loyalty and treason in contrast. Everything is commonplace, +while everything is also magnificent in its way, and set forth in the +right epic style, with elegiac passages here and there. Everything is +commonplace except the allusions to matters of historical tradition, +such as the death of Ongentheow, the death of Hygelac. With these +exceptions, there is nothing in the latter part of <i>Beowulf</i> that +might not have been taken at almost any time from the common stock of +fables and appropriate sentiments, familiar to every maker or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> hearer +of poetry from the days of the English conquest of Britain, and long +before that. It is not to be denied that the commonplaces here are +handled with some discretion; though commonplace, they are not mean or +dull.<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a></p> + +<p>The story of Grendel and his mother is also common, but not as common +as the dragon. The function of this story is considerably different +from the other, and the class to which it belongs is differently +distributed in literature. Both are stories of the killing of +monsters, both belong naturally to legends of heroes like Theseus or +Hercules. But for literature there is this difference between them, +that dragons belong more appropriately to the more fantastic kinds of +narrative, while stories of the deliverance of a house from a +pestilent goblin are much more capable of sober treatment and +verisimilitude. Dragons are more easily distinguished and set aside as +fabulous monsters than is the family of Grendel. Thus the story of +Grendel is much better fitted than the dragon story for a composition +like <i>Beowulf</i>, which includes a considerable amount of the detail of +common experience and ordinary life. Dragons are easily scared from +the neighbourhood of sober experience; they have to be looked for in +the mountains and caverns of romance or fable. Whereas Grendel remains +a possibility in the middle of common life, long after the last dragon +has been disposed of.</p> + +<p>The people who tell fairy stories like the <i>Well of the World's End</i>, +the <i>Knight of the Red Shield</i>, the <i>Castle East o' the Sun and West +o' the Moon</i>, have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> no belief, have neither belief nor disbelief, in +the adventures of them. But the same people have other stories of +which they take a different view, stories of wonderful things more +near to their own experience. Many a man to whom the <i>Well of the +World's End</i> is an idea, a fancy, has in his mind a story like that of +Grendel which he believes, which makes him afraid. The bogle that +comes to a house at night and throttles the goodman is a creature more +hardy than the dragon, and more persevering. Stories like that of +Beowulf and Grendel are to be found along with other popular stories +in collections; but they are to be distinguished from them. There are +popular heroes of tradition to this day who are called to do for +lonely houses the service done by Beowulf for the house of Hrothgar.</p> + +<p>Peer Gynt (not Ibsen's Peer Gynt, who is sophisticated, but the +original Peter) is a lonely deer-stalker on the fells, who is asked by +his neighbour to come and keep his house for him, which is infested +with trolls. Peer Gynt clears them out,<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> and goes back to his +deer-stalking. The story is plainly one that touches the facts of life +more nearly than stories of <i>Shortshanks</i> or the <i>Blue Belt</i>. The +trolls are a possibility.</p> + +<p>The story of Uistean Mor mac Ghille Phadrig is another of the same +sort.<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> It is not, like the <i>Battle of the Birds</i> or <i>Conal Gulban</i>, +a thing of pure fantasy. It is a story that may pass for true when the +others have lost everything but their pure imaginative value as +stories. Here, again, in the West Highlands, the champion is called +upon like Beowulf and Peer Gynt to save his neighbours from a warlock. +And it is matter of history that Bishop Gudmund Arason of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> Hólar in +Iceland had to suppress a creature with a seal's head, Selkolla, that +played the game of Grendel.<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a></p> + +<p>There are people, no doubt, for whom Peer Gynt and the trolls, Uistean +Mor and the warlock, even Selkolla that Bishop Gudmund killed, are as +impossible as the dragon in the end of the poem of <i>Beowulf</i>. But it +is certain that stories like those of Grendel are commonly believed in +many places where dragons are extinct. The story of Beowulf and +Grendel is not wildly fantastic or improbable; it agrees with the +conditions of real life, as they have been commonly understood at all +times except those of peculiar enlightenment and rationalism. It is +not to be compared with the Phaeacian stories of the adventures of +Odysseus. Those stories in the <i>Odyssey</i> are plainly and intentionally +in a different order of imagination from the story of the killing of +the suitors. They are pure romance, and if any hearer of the <i>Odyssey</i> +in ancient times was led to go in search of the island of Calypso, he +might come back with the same confession as the seeker for the wonders +of Broceliande,—<i>fol i alai</i>. But there are other wonderful things in +the <i>Iliad</i> and the <i>Odyssey</i> which are equally improbable to the +modern rationalist and sceptic; yet by no means of the same kind of +wonder as Calypso or the Sirens. Probably few of the earliest hearers +of the <i>Odyssey</i> thought of the Sirens or of Calypso as anywhere near +them, while many of them must have had their grandmothers' testimony +for things like the portents before the death of the suitors. Grendel +in the poem of <i>Beowulf</i> is in the same order of existence as these +portents. If they are superstitions, they are among the most +persistent; and they are superstitions, rather than creatures of +romance. The fight with Grendel is not of the same kind of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> adventure +as Sigurd at the hedge of flame, or Svipdag at the enchanted castle. +And the episode of Grendel's mother is further from matter of fact +than the story of Grendel himself. The description of the desolate +water is justly recognised as one of the masterpieces of the old +English poetry; it deserves all that has been said of it as a passage +of romance in the middle of epic. Beowulf's descent under the water, +his fight with the warlock's mother, the darkness of that "sea +dingle," the light of the mysterious sword, all this, if less +admirably worked out than the first description of the dolorous mere, +is quite as far from Heorot and the report of the table-talk of +Hrothgar, Beowulf, and Hunferth. It is also a different sort of thing +from the fight with Grendel. There is more of supernatural incident, +more romantic ornament, less of that concentration in the struggle +which makes the fight with Grendel almost as good in its way as its +Icelandic counterpart, the wrestling of Grettir and Glam.</p> + +<p>The story of <i>Beowulf</i>, which in the fight with Grendel has analogies +with the plainer kind of goblin story, rather alters its tone in the +fight with Grendel's mother. There are parallels in <i>Grettis Saga</i>, +and elsewhere, to encounters like this, with a hag or ogress under +water; stories of this sort have been found no less credible than +stories of haunting warlocks like Grendel. But this second story is +not told in the same way as the first. It has more of the fashion and +temper of mythical fable or romance, and less of matter of fact. More +particularly, the old sword, the sword of light, in the possession of +Grendel's dam in her house under the water, makes one think of other +legends of mysterious swords, like that of Helgi, and the "glaives of +light" that are in the keeping of divers "gyre carlines" in the <i>West +Highland Tales</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> Further, the whole scheme is a common one in popular +stories, especially in Celtic stories of giants; after the giant is +killed his mother comes to avenge him.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the controlling power in the story of <i>Beowulf</i> is not +that of any kind of romance or fantastic invention; neither the +original fantasy of popular stories nor the literary embellishments of +romantic schools of poetry. There are things in <i>Beowulf</i> that may be +compared to things in the fairy tales; and, again, there are passages +of high value for their use of the motive of pure awe and mystery. But +the poem is made what it is by the power with which the characters are +kept in right relation to their circumstances. The hero is not lost or +carried away in his adventures. The introduction, the arrival in +Heorot, and the conclusion, the return of Beowulf to his own country, +are quite unlike the manner of pure romance; and these are the parts +of the work by which it is most accurately to be judged.</p> + +<p>The adventure of Grendel is put in its right proportion when it is +related by Beowulf to Hygelac. The repetition of the story, in a +shorter form, and in the mouth of the hero himself, gives strength and +body to a theme that was in danger of appearing trivial and fantastic. +The popular story-teller has done his work when he has told the +adventures of the giant-killer; the epic poet has failed, if he has +done no more than this.</p> + +<p>The character and personage of Beowulf must be brought out and +impressed on the audience; it is the poet's hero that they are bound +to admire. He appeals to them, not directly, but with unmistakable +force and emphasis, to say that they have beheld ("as may unworthiness +define") the nature of the hero, and to give him their praises.</p> + +<p>The beauty and the strength of the poem of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> <i>Beowulf</i>, as of all true +epic, depend mainly upon its comprehensive power, its inclusion of +various aspects, its faculty of changing the mood of the story. The +fight with Grendel is an adventure of one sort, grim, unrelieved, +touching close upon the springs of mortal terror, the recollection or +the apprehension of real adversaries possibly to be met with in the +darkness. The fight with Grendel's mother touches on other motives; +the terror is further away from human habitations, and it is +accompanied with a charm and a beauty, the beauty of the Gorgon, such +as is absent from the first adventure. It would have loosened the +tension and broken the unity of the scene, if any such irrelevances +had been admitted into the story of the fight with Grendel. The fight +with Grendel's mother is fought under other conditions; the stress is +not the same; the hero goes out to conquer, he is beset by no such +apprehension as in the case of the night attack. The poet is at this +point free to make use of a new set of motives, and here it is rather +the scene than the action that is made vivid to the mind. But after +this excursion the story comes back to its heroic beginning; and the +conversation of Beowulf with his hosts in Denmark, and the report that +he gives to his kin in Gautland, are enough to reduce to its right +episodic dimensions the fantasy of the adventure under the sea. In the +latter part of the poem there is still another distribution of +interest. The conversation of the personages is still to be found +occasionally carried on in the steady tones of people who have lives +of their own, and belong to a world where the tunes are not all in one +key. At the same time, it cannot be denied that the story of the +<i>Death of Beowulf</i> is inclined to monotony. The epic variety and +independence are obliterated by the too obviously pathetic intention. +The character of this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> part of the poem is that of a late school of +heroic poetry attempting, and with some success, to extract the spirit +of an older kind of poetry, and to represent in one scene an heroic +ideal or example, with emphasis and with concentration of all the +available matter. But while the end of the poem may lose in some +things by comparison with the stronger earlier parts, it is not so +wholly lost in the charms of pathetic meditation as to forget the +martial tone and the more resolute air altogether. There was a danger +that Beowulf should be transformed into a sort of Amadis, a mirror of +the earlier chivalry; with a loyal servitor attending upon his death, +and uttering the rhetorical panegyric of an abstract ideal. But this +danger is avoided, at least in part. Beowulf is still, in his death, a +sharer in the fortunes of the Northern houses; he keeps his history. +The fight with the dragon is shot through with reminiscences of the +Gautish wars: Wiglaf speaks his sorrow for the champion of the Gauts; +the virtues of Beowulf are not those of a fictitious paragon king, but +of a man who would be missed in the day when the enemies of the Gauts +should come upon them.</p> + +<p>The epic keeps its hold upon what went before, and on what is to come. +Its construction is solid, not flat. It is exposed to the attractions +of all kinds of subordinate and partial literature,—the fairy story, +the conventional romance, the pathetic legend,—and it escapes them +all by taking them all up as moments, as episodes and points of view, +governed by the conception, or the comprehension, of some of the +possibilities of human character in a certain form of society. It does +not impose any one view on the reader; it gives what it is the proper +task of the higher kind of fiction to give—the play of life in +different moods and under different aspects.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h1>THE ICELANDIC SAGAS</h1> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<h3><a name="III.I"></a>I</h3> + +<h3>ICELAND AND THE HEROIC AGE</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> epic poetry of the Germans came to an end in different ways and at +different seasons among the several nations of that stock. In England +and the Continent it had to compete with the new romantic subjects and +new forms of verse. In Germany the rhyming measures prevailed very +early, but the themes of German tradition were not surrendered at the +same time. The rhyming verse of Germany, foreign in its origin, +continued to be applied for centuries in the rendering of German myths +and heroic stories, sometimes in a style with more or less pretence to +courtliness, as in the <i>Nibelungenlied</i> and <i>Kudrun</i>; sometimes in +open parade of the travelling minstrel's "public manners" and simple +appetites. England had exactly the opposite fortune in regard to verse +and subject-matter. In England the alliterative verse survived the +changes of inflexion and pronunciation for more than five hundred +years after <i>Maldon</i>, and uttered its last words in a poem written +like the <i>Song of Byrhtnoth</i> on a contemporary battle,—the poem of +<i>Scottish Field</i>.<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +There was girding forth of guns, with many great stones;<br /> +Archers uttered out their arrows and eagerly they shotten;<br /> +They proched us with spears and put many over;<br /> +That the blood outbrast at their broken harness.<br /> +There was swinging out of swords, and swapping of heads,<br /> +We blanked them with bills through all their bright armour,<br /> +That all the dale dinned of the derf strokes.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>But while this poem of Flodden corresponds in its subject to the poem +of <i>Maldon</i>, there is no such likeness between any other late +alliterative poem and the older poems of the older language. The +alliterative verse is applied in the fourteenth and fifteenth +centuries to every kind of subject except those of Germanic tradition. +England, however, has the advantage over Germany, that while Germany +lost the old verse, England did not lose the English heroic subjects, +though, as it happens, the story of King Horn and the story of +Havelock the Dane are not told in the verse that was used for King +Arthur and Gawain, for the tale of Troy and the wars of Alexander. The +recent discovery of a fragment of the <i>Song of Wade</i> is an admonition +to be cautious in making the extant works of Middle English literature +into a standard for all that has ceased to exist. But no new +discovery, even of a Middle English alliterative poem of Beowulf or of +Walter of Aquitaine, would alter the fact that the alliterative +measure of English poetry in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, +like the ancient themes of the German rhyming poems, is a survival in +an age when the chief honours go to other kinds of poetry. The author +of <i>Piers Plowman</i> is a notable writer, and so are the poets of +<i>Gawain</i>, and of the <i>Mort Arthure</i>, and of the <i>Destruction of Troy</i>; +but Chaucer and not Langland is the poetical master of that age. The +poems of the <i>Nibelungen</i> and of <i>Kudrun</i> are rightly honoured, but it +was to the author of <i>Parzival</i>, and to the courtly lyrics of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> Walther +von der Vogelweide, that the higher rank was given in the age of the +Hohenstaufen, and the common fame is justified by history, so often as +history chooses to have any concern with such things.</p> + +<p>In the lands of the old Northern speech the old heroic poetry was +displaced by the new Court poetry of the Scalds. The heroic subjects +were not, however, allowed to pass out of memory. The new poetry could +not do without them, and required, and obtained, its heroic dictionary +in the <i>Edda</i>. The old subjects hold their own, or something of their +own, with every change of fashion. They were made into prose stories, +when prose was in favour; they were the subjects of <i>Rímur</i>, rhyming +Icelandic romances, when that form came later into vogue.<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> In +Denmark they were paraphrased, many of them, by Saxo in his <i>History</i>; +many of them became the subjects of ballads, in Denmark, Norway, +Sweden, and the Faroes.</p> + +<p>In this way some of the inheritance of the old German world was saved +in different countries and languages, for the most part in ballads and +chapbooks, apart from the main roads of literature. But these +heirlooms were not the whole stock of the heroic age. After the +failure and decline of the old poetry there remained an unexhausted +piece of ground; and the great imaginative triumph of the Teutonic +heroic age was won in Iceland with the creation of a new epic +tradition, a new form applied to new subjects.</p> + +<p>Iceland did something more than merely preserve the forms of an +antiquated life whose day was over. It was something more than an +island of refuge for muddled and blundering souls that had found the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +career of the great world too much for them. The ideas of an +old-fashioned society migrated to Iceland, but they did not remain +there unmodified. The paradox of the history of Iceland is that the +unsuccessful old ideas were there maintained by a community of people +who were intensely self-conscious and exceptionally clear in mind. +Their political ideas were too primitive for the common life of +medieval Christendom. The material life of Iceland in the Middle Ages +was barbarous when compared with the life of London or Paris, not to +speak of Provence or Italy, in the same centuries. At the same time, +the modes of thought in Iceland, as is proved by its historical +literature, were distinguished by their freedom from +extravagances,—from the extravagance of medieval enthusiasm as well +as from the superstitions of barbarism. The life of an heroic +age—that is, of an older stage of civilisation than the common +European medieval form—was interpreted and represented by the men of +that age themselves with a clearness of understanding that appears to +be quite unaffected by the common medieval fallacies and "idolisms." +This clear self-consciousness is the distinction of Icelandic +civilisation and literature. It is not vanity or conceit. It does not +make the Icelandic writers anxious about their own fame or merits. It +is simply clear intelligence, applied under a dry light to subjects +that in themselves are primitive, such as never before or since have +been represented in the same way. The life is their own life; the +record is that of a dispassionate observer.</p> + +<p>While the life represented in the Sagas is more primitive, less +civilised, than the life of the great Southern nations in the Middle +Ages, the record of that life is by a still greater interval in +advance of all the common modes of narrative then known to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> more +fortunate or more luxurious parts of Europe. The conventional form of +the Saga has none of the common medieval restrictions of view. It is +accepted at once by modern readers without deduction or apology on the +score of antique fashion, because it is in essentials the form with +which modern readers are acquainted in modern story-telling; and more +especially because the language is unaffected and idiomatic, not +"quaint" in any way, and because the conversations are like the talk +of living people. The Sagas are stories of characters who speak for +themselves, and who are interesting on their own merits. There are +good and bad Sagas, and the good ones are not all equally good +throughout. The mistakes and misuses of the inferior parts of the +literature do not, however, detract from the sufficiency of the common +form, as represented at its best. The invention of the common form of +the Saga is an achievement which deserves to be judged by the best in +its kind. That kind was not exempt, any more than the Elizabethan +drama or the modern novel, from the impertinences and superfluities of +trivial authors. Further, there were certain conditions and +circumstances about its origin that sometimes hindered in one way, +while they gave help in another. The Saga is a compromise between +opposite temptations, and the compromise is not always equitable.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="III.II"></a>II</h3> + +<h3>MATTER AND FORM</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is no small part of the force of the Sagas, and at the same time a +difficulty and an embarrassment, that they have so much of reality +behind them. The element of history in them, and their close relation +to the lives of those for whom they were made, have given them a +substance and solidity beyond anything else in the imaginative stories +of the Middle Ages. It may be that this advantage is gained rather +unfairly. The art of the Sagas, which is so modern in many things, and +so different from the medieval conventions in its selection of matter +and its development of the plot, is largely indebted to circumstances +outside of art. In its rudiments it was always held close to the real +and material interests of the people; it was not like some other arts +which in their beginning are fanciful, or dependent on myth or legend +for their subject-matter, as in the medieval schools of painting or +sculpture generally, or in the medieval drama. Its imaginative methods +were formed through essays in the representation of actual life; its +first artists were impelled by historical motives, and by personal and +local interests. The art of the Sagas was from the first "immersed in +matter"; it had from the first all the advantage that is given by +interests stronger and more substantial than those of mere +literature;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> and, conversely, all the hindrance that such irrelevant +interests provide, when "mere literature" attempts to disengage itself +and govern its own course.</p> + +<p>The local history, the pedigrees of notable families, are felt as a +hindrance, in a greater or less degree, by all readers of the Sagas; +as a preliminary obstacle to clear comprehension. The Sagas differ in +value, according to their use and arrangement of these matters, in +relation to a central or imaginative conception of the main story and +the characters engaged in it. The best Sagas are not always those that +give the least of their space to historical matters, to the +genealogies and family memoirs. From these the original life of the +Sagas is drawn, and when it is cut off from these the Saga withers +into a conventional and insipid romance. Some of the best Sagas are +among those which make most of the history and, like <i>Njála</i> and +<i>Laxdæla</i>, act out their tragedies in a commanding way that carries +along with it the whole crowd of minor personages, yet so that their +minor and particular existences do not interfere with the story, but +help it and give it substantiality. The tragedy of <i>Njal</i>, or of the +<i>Lovers of Gudrun</i>, may be read and judged, if one chooses, in +abstraction from the common background of Icelandic history, and in +forgetfulness of its bearing upon the common fortunes of the people of +the land; but these Sagas are not rightly understood if they are taken +only and exclusively in isolation. The tragedies gain a very distinct +additional quality from the recurrence of personages familiar to the +reader from other Sagas. The relation of the Sagas to actual past +events, and to the whole range of Icelandic family tradition, was the +initial difficulty in forming an adequate method of story-telling; the +particulars were too many, and also too real. But the reality of them +was, at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> same time, the initial impulse of the Sagas; and the best +of the Sagas have found a way of saving the particulars of the family +and local histories, without injury to the imaginative and poetical +order of their narratives.</p> + +<p>The Sagas, with all the differences between them, have common +features, but among these is not to be reckoned an equal consideration +for the unity of action. The original matter of the oral traditions of +Iceland, out of which the written Sagas were formed, was naturally +very much made up of separate anecdotes, loosely strung together by +associations with a district or a family. Some of the stories, no +doubt, must have had by nature a greater unity and completeness than +the rest:—history in the rough has very often the outlines of tragedy +in it; it presents its authors with dramatic contrasts ready made +(Richard II. and Bolingbroke, Lewis XI. and Charles the Bold, +Elizabeth and Mary Queen of Scots); it provides real heroes. But there +are many interesting things which are not well proportioned, and which +have no respect for the unities; the hero is worth talking about +whether his story is symmetrical or not. The simplest form of heroic +narrative is that which puts together a number of adventures, such as +may easily be detached and repeated separately, adventures like that +of David and Goliath, Wallace with his fishing-rod, or Bruce in the +robbers' house. Many of the Sagas are mere loose strings of +adventures, of short stories, or idylls, which may easily be detached +and remembered out of connexion with the rest of the series. In the +case of many of these it is almost indifferent at what point they may +be introduced in the Saga; they merely add some particulars without +advancing the plot, if there be any plot. There are all varieties of +texture in the Sagas, from the extreme<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> laxity of those that look like +mere collections of the anecdotes of a countryside (<i>Eyrbyggja</i>), to +the definite structure of those in which all the particulars +contribute to the main action (<i>Hrafnkels Saga</i>, <i>Bandamanna</i>, <i>Gísla +Saga</i>).</p> + +<p>The loose assemblage of stories current in Iceland before the Sagas +were composed in writing must, of course, have been capable of all +kinds of variation. The written Sagas gave a check to oral variations +and rearrangements; but many of them in extant alternative versions +keep the traces of the original story-teller's freedom of selection, +while all the Sagas together in a body acknowledge themselves +practically as a selection from traditional report. Each one, the most +complete as well as the most disorderly, is taken out of a mass of +traditional knowledge relating to certain recognisable persons, of +whom any one may be chosen for a time as the centre of interest, and +any one may become a subordinate character in some one else's +adventures. One Saga plays into the others, and introduces people +incidentally who may be the heroes of other stories. As a result of +this selective practice of the Sagas, it sometimes happens that an +important or an interesting part of the record may be dropped by one +Saga and picked up casually by another. Thus in the written Sagas, one +of the best stories of the two Foster-brothers (or rather "Brothers by +oath," <i>fratres jurati</i>) Thorgeir and Thormod the poet, is preserved +not by their own proper history, <i>Fóstbræðra Saga</i>, but in the story +of Grettir the Strong; how they and Grettir lived a winter through in +the same house without quarrelling, and how their courage was +estimated by their host.<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a></p> + +<p>This solidarity and interconnexion of the Sagas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> needs no explanation. +It could not be otherwise in a country like Iceland; a community of +neighbours (in spite of distances and difficulties of travelling) +where there was nothing much to think about or to know except other +people's affairs. The effect in the written Sagas is to give them +something like the system of the <i>Comédie Humaine</i>. There are new +characters in each, but the old characters reappear. Sometimes there +are discrepancies; the characters are not always treated from the same +point of view. On the whole, however, there is agreement. The +character of Gudmund the Great, for example, is well drawn, with zest, +and some irony, in his own Saga (<i>Ljósvetninga</i>); he is the prosperous +man, the "rich glutton," fond of praise and of influence, but not as +sound as he looks, and not invulnerable. His many appearances in other +Sagas all go to strengthen this impression of the full-blown great man +and his ambiguous greatness. So also Snorri the Priest, whose rise and +progress are related in <i>Eyrbyggja</i>, appears in many other Sagas, and +is recognised whenever he appears with the same certainty and the same +sort of interest as attaches to the name of Rastignac, when that +politician is introduced in stories not properly his own. Each +separate mention of Snorri the Priest finds its place along with all +the rest; he is never unequal to himself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p>It is in the short story, the episodic chapter, that the art of +Icelandic narrative first defines itself. This is the original unity; +it is here, in a limited, easily comprehensible subject-matter, that +the lines are first clearly drawn. The Sagas that are least regular +and connected are made up of definite and well-shaped single blocks. +Many of the Sagas are much improved by being taken to pieces and +regarded, not as continuous histories, but as collections of separate +short stories. <i>Eyrbyggja</i>, <i>Vatnsdæla</i>, and <i>Ljósvetninga</i> are +collections of this sort—"Tales of the Hall." There is a sort of +unity in each of them, but the place of Snorri in <i>Eyrbyggja</i>, of +Ingimund in <i>Vatnsdæla</i>, and of Gudmund the Great in the history of +the House of Ljósavatn, is not that of a tragic or epic hero who +compels the episodes to take their right subordinate rank in a larger +story. These Sagas break up into separate chapters, losing thereby +none of the minor interests of story-telling, but doing without the +greater tragic or heroic interest of the fables that have one +predominant motive.</p> + +<p>Of more coherent forms of construction there are several different +examples among the Sagas. In each of these cases it is the tragic +conception, the tragic idea, of the kind long familiar to the Teutonic +nations, that governs the separate passages of the traditional +history.</p> + +<p>Tragic situations are to be found all through the Icelandic +literature, only they are not always enough to make a tragedy. There +is Nemesis in the end of Gudmund the Great, when his murdered enemy +haunts him; but this is not enough to make his Saga an organic thing. +The tragic problem of Alboin recurs, as was pointed out by the editors +of <i>Corpus Poeticum Boreale</i>, in the prelude to <i>Vatnsdæla Saga</i>; but +it stands by itself as one of the separate chapters<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> in that history, +which contains the plots of other tragedies also, without adopting any +one of them as its single and overruling motive. These are instances +of the way in which tragic imagination, or at any rate the knowledge +and partial appreciation of tragic plots, may come short of +fulfilment, and may be employed in a comparatively futile and wasteful +form of literature. In the greater works, where the idea is fully +realised, there is no one formal type. The Icelandic Sagas have +different forms of success in the greater works, as well as different +degrees of approximation to success in the more desultory and +miscellaneous histories.</p> + +<p><i>Njála</i>, which is the greatest of all the Sagas, does not make its +effect by any reduction of the weight or number of its details. It +carries an even greater burden of particulars than <i>Eyrbyggja</i>; it has +taken up into itself the whole history of the south country of Iceland +in the heroic age.</p> + +<p>The unity of <i>Njála</i> is certainly not the unity of a restricted or +emaciated heroic play. Yet with all its complexity it belongs to quite +a different order of work from <i>Eyrbyggja</i>.</p> + +<p>It falls into three divisions, each of these a story by itself, with +all three combining to form one story, apart from which they are +incomplete. The first, the story of Gunnar, which is a tragedy by +itself, is a necessary part of the whole composition; for it is also +the story of the wisdom of Njal and the dignity of Bergthora, without +which the second part would be insipid, and the great act of the +burning of Njal's house would lose its depth and significance. The +third part is the payment of a debt to Njal, Bergthora, and +Skarphedinn, for whom vengeance is required; but it is also due even +more to Flosi their adversary. The essence of the tragic situation +lies in this, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> the good man is in the wrong, and his adversary in +the right. The third part is required to restore the balance, in order +that the original wrong, Skarphedinn's slaughter of the priest of +Whiteness, should not be thought to be avoided in the death of its +author. <i>Njála</i> is a work of large scale and liberal design; the +beauty of all which, in the story, is that it allows time for the +characters to assert themselves and claim their own, as they could not +do in a shorter story, where they would be whirled along by the plot. +The vengeance and reconciliation in the third part of <i>Njála</i> are +brought about by something more than a summary poetical justice of +fines and punishments for misdeeds. It is a more leisurely, as well as +a more poetical justice, that allows the characters to assert +themselves for what they really are; the son of Lambi "filthy still," +and Flosi the Burner not less true in temper than Njal himself.</p> + +<p><i>Njála</i> and <i>Laxdæla</i> are examples of two different ways in which +inconvenient or distracting particulars of history or tradition might +be reduced to serve the ends of imagination and the heroic design. +<i>Njála</i> keeps up, more or less, throughout, a continuous history of a +number of people of importance, but always with a regard for the +principal plot of the story. In <i>Laxdæla</i> there is, on the other hand, +a gradual approach to the tragedy of Kjartan, Bolli, and Gudrun; an +historical prologue of the founding of Laxdale, and the lives of +Kjartan's father and grandfather, before the chief part of the story +begins. In <i>Njála</i> the main story opens as soon as Njal appears; of +prologue there is little more than is needed to prepare for the +mischief of Hallgerda, who is the cause of the strain between the two +houses of Lithend and Bergthorsknoll, and thereby the touchstone of +the generosity of Njal. In <i>Laxdæla</i>, although the prologue is not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> +irrelevant, there is a long delay before the principal personages are +brought together. There is no mistake about the story when once it +begins, and no question about the unity of the interest; Gudrun and +Fate may divide it between them, if it be divisible. It is purely the +stronger quality of this part of the book, in comparison with the +earlier, that saves <i>Laxdæla</i> from the defects of its construction; by +the energy of the story of Kjartan, the early story of Laxdale is +thrown back and left behind as a mere prelude, in spite of its length.</p> + +<p>The story of Egil Skallagrimsson, the longest of the biographical +Sagas, shows exactly the opposite proportions to those of <i>Laxdæla</i>. +The life of Egil is prefaced by the history of his grandfather, +father, and uncle, Kveldulf, Skallagrim (Grim the Bald), and Thorolf. +Unhappily for the general effect of the book, the life of Egil is told +with less strength and coherence than the fate of his uncle. The most +commanding and most tragic part of <i>Egla</i> is that which represents +Skallagrim and Thorolf in their relations to the tyranny of Harald the +king; how Thorolf's loyalty was ill paid, and how Skallagrim his +brother went in defiance to speak to King Harald. This, though it is +only a prelude to the story of Egil, is one of the finest imaginative +passages in the whole literature. The Saga has here been able to +express, in a dramatic and imaginative form, that conflict of +principles between the new monarchy and the old liberty which led to +the Icelandic migration. The whole political situation, it might be +said the whole early history of Iceland and Norway, is here summed up +and personified in the conflict of will between the three characters. +Thorolf, Harald the king, and Skallagrim play the drama of the +Norwegian monarchy, and the founding of the Icelandic Commonwealth. +After this compact and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> splendid piece of work the adventures of Egil +Skallagrimsson appear rather ineffectual and erratic, in spite of some +brilliant episodes.</p> + +<p>What was an author to do when his hero died in his bed, or survived +all his feuds and enmities? or when a feud could not be wound up in +one generation?</p> + +<p><i>Vápnfirðinga Saga</i> gives the history of two generations of feud, with +a reconciliation at the end, thus obtaining a rounded unity, though at +some cost of the personal interest in its transference from fathers to +sons.</p> + +<p><i>Víga-Glúms Saga</i> is a story which, with the best intentions in the +world, could not attain to tragedy like that of Gisli or of Grettir, +because every one knew that Glum was a threatened man who lived long, +and got through without any deadly injury. Glum is well enough fitted +for the part of a tragic hero. He has the slow growth, the unpromising +youth, the silence and the dangerous laughter, such as are recorded in +the lives of other notable personages in heroic literature:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Glum turned homeward; and a fit of laughing came on him. It +took him in this way, that his face grew pale, and there ran +tears from his eyes like hailstones: it was often so with +him afterwards, when bloodshed was in his mind.</p></div> + +<p>But although there are several feuds in the story of Glum or several +incidents in a feud, somehow there is no tragedy. Glum dies quietly, +aged and sightless. There is a thread of romantic destiny in his +story; he keeps his good luck till he parts with the gifts of his +grandfather Vigfus—the cloak, the spear, and the sword that Vigfus +had given him in Norway. The prayer for Glum's discomfiture, which one +of his early adversaries had offered to Frey, then takes effect, when +the protecting luck has been given<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> away. The fall of Glum is, +however, nothing incurable; the change in his fortune is merely that +he has to give up the land which he had extorted from his adversary +long before, and that he ceases to be the greatest man in Eyjafirth, +though continuing to be a man of importance still. His honour and his +family are not hard hit, after all.</p> + +<p>The history of Glum, with its biographical unity, its interest of +character, and its want of tragedy, is a form of story midway between +the closer knit texture of <i>Gísla Saga</i> and the laxity of construction +in the stories without a hero, or with more than one, such as +<i>Ljósvetninga</i> or <i>Vatnsdæla</i>. It is a biography with no strong crisis +in it; it might have been extended indefinitely. And, in fact, the +existing form of the story looks as if it were rather carelessly put +together, or perhaps abridged from a fuller version. The story in +<i>Reykdæla</i> of Viga Skuta, Glum's son-in-law and enemy, contains a +better and fuller account of their dealings than <i>Glúma</i>, without any +discrepancy, though the <i>Reykdæla</i> version alludes to divergencies of +tradition in certain points. The curious thing is that the <i>Reykdæla</i> +version supplies information about Glum's character which supplements +what is told more baldly in his own Saga. Both accounts agree about +Glum's good nature, which is practised on by Skuta. Glum is constant +and trustworthy whenever he is appealed to for help. The <i>Reykdæla</i> +version gives a pretty confirmation of this view of Glum's character +(c. 24), where Glum protects the old Gaberlunzie man, with the result +that the old man goes and praises his kindness, and so lets his +enemies know of his movements, and spoils his game for that time. This +episode is related to <i>Glúma</i>, as the foster-brother episode of +Grettir (c. 51), quoted above, is related to <i>Fóstbræðra Saga</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + +<p>If <i>Glúma</i> is interesting and even fairly compact, in spite of its +want of any great dramatic moment, on the other hand the tragic ending +is not always enough to save a story from dissipation of interest. In +the story of Glum's antagonist, Viga Skuta, in the second part of +<i>Reykdæla Saga</i>, there is no proportion or composition; his adventures +follow one upon the other, without development, a series of hazards +and escapes, till he is brought down at last. In the earlier part of +the same Saga (the story of Vemund, Skuta's cousin, and Askel, Skuta's +father) there is more continuity in the chronicle of wrongs and +revenges, and, if this story be taken by itself, more form and +definite design. The two rivals are well marked out and opposed to one +another, while the mischief-making Vemund is well contrasted with his +uncle Askel, the just man and the peacemaker, who at the end is killed +in one of his nephew's feuds, in the fight by the frozen river from +which Vemund escapes, while his enemy is drowned and his best friend +gets a death wound.</p> + +<p>There are two Sagas in which a biographical theme is treated in such a +way that the story produces one single impressive and tragical effect, +leaving the mind with a sense of definite and necessary movement +towards a tragic conclusion,—the story of Grettir the Strong, and the +story of Gisli the Outlaw. These stories have analogies to one +another, though they are not cast in quite the same manner.</p> + +<p>In the life of Grettir there are many detached episodes, giving room +for theories of adulteration such as are only too inevitable and +certain in regard to the imbecile continuation of the story after +Grettir's death and his brother's vengeance. The episodes in the main +story are, however, not to be dismissed quite so easily as the +unnecessary romance of the Lady Spes (<i>Grettis Saga</i>, cc. 90-95). +While many of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> episodes do little to advance the story, and some +of them seem to have been borrowed from other Sagas without sufficient +reason (cc. 25-27, from the <i>Foster-brothers</i>), most of them serve to +accentuate the character of Grettir, or to deepen the sense of the +mystery surrounding his life.</p> + +<p>The tragedy of Grettir is one of those which depend on Accident, +interpreted by the author as Fate. The hero is a doomed man, like +Gisli, who sees things clearly coming on, but is unable to get out of +their way. In both <i>Gisli</i> and <i>Grettir</i> there is an accompaniment of +mystery and fantasy—for Gisli in the songs of the dream woman, for +Grettir in various touches unlike the common prose of the Sagas. The +hopelessness of his ill fortune is brought out in a sober way in his +dealings with the chiefs who are unable to protect him, and in the +cheerless courage of his relations with the foster-brothers, when the +three are all together in the house of Thorgils Arason. It is +illustrated in a quite different and more fantastic way in the scenes +of his wanderings among the mountains, in the mysterious quiet of +Thorisdal, in his alliance with strange deliverers, outside of the +common world and its society, in the curse of Glam under the +moonlight. This last is one of the few scenes in the Sagas, though not +the only one, when the effect depends on something more than the +persons engaged in it. The moon with the clouds driving over counts +for more than a mere indication of time or weather; it is essential to +the story, and lends itself to the malignity of the adversary in +casting the spell of fear upon Grettir's mind. The solitude of +Drangey, in the concluding chapters of <i>Grettis Saga</i>, the cliffs, the +sea and the storms are all much less exceptional; they are necessary +parts of the action, more closely and organically<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> related to the +destiny of the hero. There, in the final scenes, although there is +witchcraft practised against Grettir, it is not that, but the common +and natural qualities of the foolishness of the thrall and the heroism +of Grettir and his young brother on which the story turns. These are +the humanities of Drangey, a strong contrast, in the art of narrative, +to the moonlight spell of Glam. The notable thing is that the romantic +and fantastic passages in Grettir are not obscurations of the tragedy, +not irrelevant, but rather an expression by the way, and in an +exceptional mood, of the author's own view of the story and his +conviction that it is all one coherent piece. This certainly is the +effect of the romantic interludes in <i>Gisli</i>, which is perhaps the +most tragic of all the Sagas, or at any rate the most self-conscious +of its tragic aim. In the story of Gisli there is an introduction and +preparation, but there is no very great expense of historical +preliminaries. The discrepancies here between the two extant +redactions of the Saga seem to show that introductory chapters of this +sort were regarded as fair openings for invention and decoration by +editors, who had wits enough to leave the essential part of the story +very much to itself. Here, when once the action has begun, it goes on +to the end without a fault. The chief characters are presented at the +beginning; Gisli and Thorkell his brother; Thorgrim the Priest and +Vestein, their two brothers-in-law. A speech foretelling their +disunion is reported to Gisli, and leads him to propose the oath of +fellowship between the four; which proposal, meant to avert the omen, +brings about its fulfilment. And so the story goes on logically and +inevitably to the death of Gisli, who slew Thorgrim, and the +passionate agony of Thordis, Thorgrim's wife and Gisli's sister.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Hrafnkels Saga</i> is a tragic idyll, complete and rounded. It is +different in its design from <i>Njála</i> or <i>Laxdæla</i>, from the stories of +Grettir and Gisli. It is a short story, well concentrated. For mere +symmetry of design it might compete with any of the greater Icelandic +works, not to speak of any modern fiction.</p> + +<p>Hrafnkel, the proud man, did a cruel thing "for his oath's sake"; +killed his shepherd Einar for riding on Freyfaxi, the horse that +belonged to Frey the god, and to Hrafnkel his priest. To the father of +Einar he made offers of compensation which were not accepted. Then the +story, with much admirable detail (especially in the scenes at the +Althing), goes on to show how Hrafnkel's pride was humbled by Einar's +cousin. All through, however, Hrafnkel is represented as guilty of +tragic terror, not of wickedness; he is punished more than is due, and +in the end the balance is redressed, and his arrogant conqueror is +made to accept Hrafnkel's terms. It is a story clearly and +symmetrically composed; it would be too neat, indeed, if it were not +that it still leaves some accounts outstanding at the end: the +original error is wasteful, and the life of an innocent man is +sacrificed in the clearing of scores between Hrafnkel and his +adversary.</p> + +<p>The theory of a conglomerate epic may be applied to the Icelandic +Sagas with some effect. It is plain on the face of them that they +contain short stories from tradition which may correspond to the short +lays of the epic theory, which do in fact resemble in many things +certain of the lays of the "Elder Edda." Many of the Sagas, like +<i>Eyrbyggja</i>, <i>Vatnsdæla</i>, <i>Svarfdæla</i>, are ill compacted, and easily +broken up into separate short passages. On the other hand, these +broken and variegated Sagas are wanting in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> dignity and impressiveness +compared with some others, while those others have attained their +dignity, not by choosing their episodic chapters merely, but by +forcing their own original and commanding thought upon all their +matter. This is the case, whether the form be that of the +comprehensive, large, secure, and elaborate <i>Njála</i>; of <i>Laxdæla</i>, +with its dilatory introduction changing to the eagerness and quickness +of the story of Gudrun; of <i>Grettir</i> and <i>Gisli</i>, giving shape in +their several ways to the traditional accumulation of a hero's +adventures; or, not less remarkable, the precision of <i>Hrafnkels Saga</i> +and <i>Bandamanna</i>,<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> which appear to have discovered and fixed for +themselves the canons of good imaginative narrative in short compass, +and to have freed themselves, in a more summary way than <i>Njála</i>, from +the encumbrances of traditional history, and the distracting interests +of the antiquarian and the genealogist. These two stories, with that +of Howard of Icefirth<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> and some others, might perhaps be taken as +corresponding in Icelandic prose to the short epic in verse, such as +the <i>Atlakviða</i>. They show, at any rate, that the difficulties of +reluctant subject-matter and of the manifold deliverances of tradition +were not able, in all cases, to get the better of that sense of form +which was revealed in the older poetic designs.</p> + +<p>In their temper also, and in the quality of their heroic ideal, the +Sagas are the inheritors of the older heroic poetry.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="III.III"></a>III</h3> + +<h3>THE HEROIC IDEAL</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the material conditions of Icelandic life in the "Saga Age" there +was all the stuff that was required for heroic narrative. This was +recognised by the story-tellers, and they made the most of it. It must +be admitted that there is some monotony in the circumstances, but it +may be contended that this is of no account in comparison with the +results that are produced in the best Sagas out of trivial occasions. +"Greatly to find quarrel in a straw" is the rule of their conduct. The +tempers of the men are easily stirred; they have a general name<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> +for the trial of a man's patience, applied to anything that puts a +strain on him, or encroaches on his honour. The trial may come from +anything—horses, sheep, hay, women, merchandise. From these follow +any number of secondary or retaliatory insults, trespasses, and +manslaughters. Anything almost is enough to set the play going. What +the matter in dispute may be, is almost indifferent to the author of +the story. Its value depends on the persons; it is what they choose to +make it.</p> + +<p>The Sagas differ from all other "heroic" literatures in the larger +proportion that they give to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> meannesses of reality. Their +historical character, and their attempts to preserve an accurate +memory of the past, though often freely modified by imagination, yet +oblige them to include a number of things, gross, common, and +barbarous, because they are part of the story. The Sagas differ one +from another in this respect. The characters are not all raised to the +height of Gunnar, Njal, Skarphedinn, Flosi, Bolli, Kjartan, Gisli. In +many of the Sagas, and in many scenes, the characters are dull and +ungainly. At the same time their perversity, the naughtiness, for +example, of Vemund in <i>Reykdæla</i>, or of Thorolf the crank old man in +<i>Eyrbyggja</i>, belongs to the same world as the lives of the more heroic +personages. The Sagas take an interest in misconduct, when there is +nothing better to be had, and the heroic age is frequently represented +by them rather according to the rules of modern unheroic story-telling +than of Bossu <i>on the Epic Poem</i>. The inequitable persons +(<i>újafnaðarmenn</i>) in the Sagas are not all of them as lordly as +Agamemnon. For many readers this is an advantage; if the Sagas are +thereby made inferior to Homer, they are all the closer to modern +stories of "common life." The people of Iceland seem always to have +been "at the auld work of the marches again," like Dandie Dinmont and +Jock o' Dawstoncleugh, and many of their grievances and wrongs might +with little change have been turned into subjects for Crabbe or Mr. +Hardy. It requires no great stretch of fancy to see Crabbe at work on +the story of Thorolf Bægifot and his neighbour in <i>Eyrbyggja</i>; the old +Thorolf, "curst with age," driven frantic by his homely neighbour's +greater skill in the weather, and taking it out in a vicious trespass +on his neighbour's hay; the neighbour's recourse to Thorolf's more +considerate son Arnkell; Arnkell's payment of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> the damage, and summary +method of putting accounts square again by seizure of his father's +oxen; with the consequences of all this, which perhaps are somewhat +too violent to be translated literally into the modern language of +Suffolk or Wessex. Episodes of this type are common in the Sagas, and +it is to them in a great measure that the Sagas owe their distinction +from the common run of medieval narrative. But no appreciation of this +"common life" in the Sagas can be just, if it ignores the essentially +"heroic" nature of the moral laws under which the Icelandic narratives +are conducted. Whether with good results or bad, is another question; +but there can be no doubt that the Sagas were composed under the +direction of an heroic ideal, identical in most respects with that of +the older heroic poetry. This ideal view is revealed in different +ways, as the Sagas have different ways of bringing their characters +before the audience. In the best passages, of course, which are the +most dramatic, the presuppositions and private opinions of the author +are not immediately disclosed in the speeches of the characters. But +the Sagas are not without their chorus; the general judgment of people +about their leaders is often expressed; and although the action of the +Sagas is generally sufficient to make its own impression and explain +itself, the author's reading of his characters is frequently added. +From the action and the commentary together, the heroic ideal comes +out clearly, and it is plain that its effect on the Sagas was not +merely an implicit and unconscious influence. It had risen into the +consciousness of the authors of the Sagas; it was not far from +definite expression in abstract terms. In this lay the danger. An +ideal, defined or described in set terms, is an ideal without any +responsibility and without any privilege. It may be picked up and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +traded on by any fool or hypocrite. Undefined and undivulged, it +belongs only to those who have some original strength of imagination +or will, and with them it cannot go wrong. But a definite ideal, and +the terms of its definition, may belong to any one and be turned to +any use. So the ideal of Petrarch was formulated and abused by the +Petrarchists. The formula of Amadis of Gaul is derived from +generations of older unformulated heroes, and implies the exhaustion +of the heroic strain, in that line of descent. The Sagas have not come +as far as that, but the latter days, that have seen Amadis, and the +mechanical repetitions of Amadis, may find in the Sagas some +resemblances and anticipations of the formal hero, though not yet +enough to be dangerous.</p> + +<p>In all sound heroic literature there are passages that bring up the +shadow of the sceptic,—passages of noble sentiment, whose phrases are +capable of being imitated, whose ideas may make the fortune of +imitators and pretenders. In the Teutonic epic poetry, as in Homer, +there are many noble speeches of this sort, speeches of lofty +rhetoric, about which the spirit of depreciation prompts a suspicion +that perhaps they may be less weighty and more conventional than we +think. False heroics are easy, and unhappily they have borrowed so +much of the true, that the truth itself is sometimes put out of +countenance by the likeness.</p> + +<p>In the English and the Icelandic heroic poetry there is some ground +for thinking that the process of decline and the evolution of the +false heroic went to some length before it was stopped. The older +poems laid emphasis on certain qualities, and made them an example and +an edification. "So ought a man to do," is a phrase common to the +English and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> Northern schools of epic. The point of honour comes +to be only too well understood—too well, that is, for the work of the +imagination. Possibly the latter part of <i>Beowulf</i> is more abstract +than it ought to be; at any rate, there are many of the secondary +Anglo-Saxon poems which, like the old Saxon <i>Hêliand</i>, show an +excessive use of the poetic formulas of courage and loyalty. The +Icelandic poetry had also its spurious heroic phrases, by which +something is taken away from the force of their more authentic +originals.</p> + +<p>In the Sagas, as in the <i>Iliad</i>, in the <i>Song of Maldon</i>, in the +<i>Death of Ermanaric</i>, there is a rhetorical element by which the ideas +of absolute courage are expressed. Unhappily it is not always easy to +be sure whether the phrases are of the first or the second growth; in +most cases, the better opinion perhaps will be that they belong to a +time not wholly unsophisticated, yet not in the stage of secondary and +abstract heroic romance. The rhetoric of the Sagas, like the rhetoric +of the "Poetic Edda," was taken too seriously and too greedily by the +first modern discoverers of the old Northern literature. It is not, +any more than the rhetoric of Homer, the immediate expression of the +real life of an heroic age; for the good reason that it is literature, +and literature just on the autumnal verge, and plainly capable of +decay. The best of the Sagas were just in time to escape that touch of +over-reflexion and self-consciousness which checks the dramatic life +and turns it into matter of edification or sentiment. The best of them +also give many indications to show how near they were to +over-elaboration and refinement.</p> + +<p>Kjartan, for example, in <i>Laxdæla</i> is represented in a way that +sometimes brings him dangerously near the ideal hero. The story (like +many of the other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> Sagas) plays about between the two extremes, of +strong imagination applied dramatically to the subject-matter, on the +one hand, and abstract ethical reflexion on the other. In the scene of +Kjartan's encounter with Olaf Tryggvason in Norway<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> there is a +typical example of the two kinds of operation. The scene and the +dialogue are fully adequate to the author's intention, about which +there can be no mistake. What he wishes to express is there expressed, +in the most lively way, with the least possible encumbrance of +explanation or chorus: the pride of Kjartan, his respect for his +unknown antagonist in the swimming-match, his anxiety to keep clear of +any submission to the king, with the king's reciprocal sense of the +Icelander's magnanimity; no stroke in all this is other than right. +While also it may be perceived that the author has brought into his +story an ingredient of rhetoric. In this place it has its use and its +effect; and, nevertheless, it is recognisable as the dangerous essence +of all that is most different from sound narrative or drama.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Then said the king, "It is well seen that Kjartan is used to +put more trust in his own might than in the help of Thor and +Odin."</p></div> + +<p>This rings as true as the noble echo of it in the modern version of +the <i>Lovers of Gudrun</i>:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +If neither Christ nor Odin help, why then<br /> +Still at the worst we are the sons of men.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>No amount of hacking work can take away the eloquence of this +phrasing. Yet it is beyond question, that these phrases, like that +speech of Sarpedon which has been borrowed by many a hero since, are +of a different stuff from pure drama, or any pure<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> imaginative work. +By taking thought, they may be more nearly imitated than is possible +in the case of any strong dramatic scene. The words of the king about +Kjartan are like the words that are used to Earl Hakon, by Sigmund of +the Faroes;<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> they are on their way to become, or they have already +become, an ethical commonplace. In the place where they are used, in +the debate between Kjartan and King Olaf, they have received the +strong life of the individual persons between whom they pass, just as +an actor may give life and character to any words that are put in his +mouth. Yet elsewhere the phrase may occur as a commonplace +formula—<i>hann trúði á mátt sinn ok megin</i> (he trusted in his own +might and main)—applied generally to those Northern pagans who were +known to be <i>securi adversus Deos</i> at the time of the first preaching +of Christendom in the North.</p> + +<p>All is well, however, so long as this heroic ideal is kept in its +right relation, as one element in a complex work, not permitted to +walk about by itself as a personage. This right subordination is +observed in the Sagas, whereby both the heroic characters are kept out +of extravagance (for neither Gunnar, Kari, nor Kjartan is an abstract +creature), and the less noble or the more complex characters are +rightly estimated. The Sagas, which in many things are ironical or +reticent, do not conceal their standard of measurement or value, in +relation to which characters and actions are to be appraised. They do +not, on the other hand, allow this ideal to usurp upon the rights of +individual characters. They are imaginative, dealing in actions and +characters; they are not ethical or sentimental treatises, or mirrors +of chivalry.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="III.IV"></a>IV</h3> + +<h3>TRAGIC IMAGINATION</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> their definite tragical situations and problems, the Sagas are akin +to the older poetry of the Teutonic race. The tragical cases of the +earlier heroic age are found repeated, with variations, in the Sagas. +Some of the chief of these resemblances have been found and discussed +by the editors of <i>Corpus Poeticum Boreale</i>. Also in many places where +there is no need to look for any close resemblance in detail, there is +to be seen the same mode of comprehending the tragical stress and +contradiction as is manifested in the remains of the poetry. As in the +older Germanic stories, so in the Sagas, the plot is often more than +mere contest or adventure. As in <i>Finnesburh</i> and <i>Waldere</i>, so in +<i>Gísla Saga</i> and <i>Njála</i> and many other Icelandic stories, the action +turns upon a debate between opposite motives of loyalty, friendship, +kindred. Gisli kills his sister's husband; it is his sister who begins +the pursuit of Gisli, his sister who, after Gisli's death, tries to +avenge him. Njal has to stand by his sons, who have killed his friend. +Gunnlaug and Hrafn, Kjartan and Bolli, are friends estranged by "Fate +and their own transgression," like Walter and Hagena.</p> + +<p>The Sagas, being prose and having an historical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> tradition to take +care of, are unable to reach the same intensity of passion as some of +the heroic poems, the poems of <i>Helgi</i> and of <i>Sigurd</i>. They are all +the more epic, perhaps, on that account; more equable in their course, +with this compensation for their quieter manner, that they have more +room and more variety than the passionate heroic poems. These +histories have also, as a rule, to do without the fantasies of such +poetry as <i>Hervor and Angantyr</i>, or <i>Helgi and Sigrun</i>. The vision of +the Queens of the Air, the return of Helgi from the dead, the +chantings of Hervor "between the worlds," are too much for the plain +texture of the Sagas. Though, as has already been seen in <i>Grettir</i> +and <i>Gisli</i>, this element of fantastic beauty is not wholly absent; +the less substantial graces of mythical romance, "fainter and +flightier" than those of epic, are sometimes to be found even in the +historical prose; the historical tragedies have their accompaniment of +mystery. More particularly, the story of the <i>Death of Thidrandi whom +the Goddesses slew</i>, is a prose counterpart to the poetry of Sigrun +and Hervor.<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a></p> + +<p>There are many other incidents in the Sagas which have the look of +romance about them. But of a number of these the distinction holds +good that has been already put forward in the case of <i>Beowulf</i>: they +are not such wonders as lie outside the bounds of common experience, +according to the estimate of those for whom the stories were told. +Besides some wonderful passages that still retain the visionary and +fantastic charm of myth and mythical romance, there are others in +which the wonders are more gross and nearer to common life. Such is +the story of the hauntings at Froda, in <i>Eyrbyggja</i>; the drowned man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +and his companions coming home night after night and sitting in their +wet clothes till daybreak; such is the ghastly story of the funeral of +Víga-Styrr in <i>Heiðarvíga Saga</i>. Things of that sort are no exceptions +to common experience, according to the Icelandic judgment, and do not +stand out from the history as something different in kind; they do not +belong to the same order as the dream-poetry of Gisli or the vision of +Thidrandi.</p> + +<p>The self-denial of the Icelandic authors in regard to myth and pure +romance has secured for them, in exchange, everything that is +essential to strong dramatic stories, independent of mythological or +romantic attractions.</p> + +<p>Some of the Sagas are a reduction of heroic fable to the temper and +conditions of modern prose. <i>Laxdæla</i> is an heroic epic, rewritten as +a prose history under the conditions of actual life, and without the +help of any supernatural "machinery." It is a modern prose version of +the Niblung tragedy, with the personages chosen from the life of +Iceland in the heroic age, and from the Icelandic family traditions. +It is not the only work that has reduced the Niblung story to terms of +matter of fact. The story of Sigurd and Brynhild has been presented as +a drama by Ibsen in his <i>Warriors in Helgeland</i>, with the names +changed, with new circumstances, and with nothing remaining of the +mythical and legendary lights that play about the fortunes of Sigurd +in the Northern poems. The play relies on the characters, without the +mysteries of Odin and the Valkyria. An experiment of the same sort had +been made long before. In <i>Laxdæla</i>, Kjartan stands for Sigurd: Gudrun +daughter of Osvifr, wife of Bolli, is in the place of Brynhild wife of +Gunnar, driving her husband to avenge her on her old lover. That the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +authors of the Sagas were conscious at least in some cases of their +relation to the poems is proved by affinities in the details of their +language. In <i>Gísla Saga</i>, Thordis, sister of Gisli, has to endure the +same sorrow as the wife of Sigurd in the poems; her husband, like +Sigurd, is killed by her brother. One of the verses put in the mouth +of Gisli in the story contrasts her with Gudrun, daughter of Giuki, +who killed her husband (Attila) to avenge her brothers; whereas +Thordis was waking up the pursuers of her brother Gisli to avenge her +husband. With this verse in his head, it is impossible that the writer +of the Saga can have overlooked the resemblance which is no less +striking than the contrast between the two cases.</p> + +<p>The relation of the Sagas to the older poetry may be expressed in this +way, perhaps, that they are the last stage in a progress from the +earliest mythical imagination, and the earliest dirges and encomiums +of the great men of a tribe, to a consistent and orderly form of +narrative literature, attained by the direction of a critical faculty +which kept out absurdities, without impairing the dramatic energy of +the story. The Sagas are the great victory of the Humanities in the +North, at the end of a long process of education. The Northern +nations, like others, had to come to an understanding with themselves +about their inherited myths, their traditional literary forms. One age +after another helped in different ways to modify their beliefs, to +change their literary taste. Practically, they had to find out what +they were to think of the gods; poetically, what they were to put into +their songs and stories. With problems of this sort, when a beginning +has once been made, anything is possible, and there is no one kind of +success. Every nation that has ever come to anything has had to go to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> +school in this way. None has ever been successful right through; +while, on the other hand, success does not mean the attainment of any +definite end. There is a success for every stage in the progress, and +one nation or literature differs from another, not by reason of an +ultimate victory or defeat, but in the number of prizes taken by the +way.</p> + +<p>As far as can be made out, the people of the Northern tongue got the +better of the Western Teutons, in making far more than they out of the +store of primeval fancies about the gods and the worlds, and in giving +to their heroic poems both an intenser passion of expression and a +more mysterious grace and charm. The Western Teutons in their heroic +poetry seem, on the other hand, to have been steadier and less +flighty. They took earlier to the line of reasonable and dignified +narrative, reducing the lyrical element, perhaps increasing the gnomic +or reflective proportions of their work. So they succeeded in their +own way, with whatever success belongs to <i>Beowulf</i>, <i>Waldere</i>, +<i>Byrhtnoth</i>, not to speak of the new essays they made with themes +taken from the Church, in the poems of <i>Andreas</i>, <i>Judith</i>, and all +the rest. Meanwhile the Northerners were having their own difficulties +and getting over them, or out of them. They knew far more about the +gods, and made poems about them. They had no patience, so that they +could not dilute and expand their stories in the Western way. They saw +no good in the leisurely methods; they must have everything emphatic, +everything full of poetical meaning; hence no large poetry, but a +number of short poems with no slackness in them. With these they had +good reason to be content, as a good day's work in their day. But +whatever advantage the fiery Northern poems may have over the slower +verse of the Anglo-Saxons, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> do not correspond to the same +intellectual wants, and they leave out something which seems to have +been attained in the Western poetry. The North had still to find out +what could be done with simpler materials, and without the magical +light of the companions of Sigrun. The Icelandic prose histories are +the solution of this new problem, a problem which the English had +already tried and solved in their own manner in the quieter passages +of their epic poetry, and, above all, in the severity of the poem of +<i>Maldon</i>.</p> + +<p>The Sagas are partly indebted to a spirit of negative criticism and +restraint; a tendency not purely literary, corresponding, at any rate, +to a similar tendency in practical life. The energy, the passion, the +lamentation of the Northern poetry, the love of all the wonders of +mythology, went along with practical and intellectual clearness of +vision in matters that required cool judgment. The ironical correction +of sentiment, the tone of the <i>advocatus diaboli</i>, is habitual with +many of the Icelandic writers, and many of their heroes. "To see +things as they really are," so that no incantation could transform +them, was one of the gifts of an Icelandic hero,<a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> and appears to +have been shared by his countrymen when they set themselves to compose +the Sagas.</p> + +<p>The tone of the Sagas is generally kept as near as may be to that of +the recital of true history. Nothing is allowed any preponderance over +the story and the speeches in it. It is the kind of story furthest +removed from the common pathetic fallacies of the Middle Ages. The +rationalist mind has cleared away all the sentimental and most of the +superstitious encumbrances and hindrances of strong narrative.</p> + +<p>The history of the early Northern rationalism and its practical +results is part of the general history of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> religion and politics. In +some respects it may have been premature; in many cases it seems (as +might be expected) to have gone along with hardness and sterility of +mind, and to have left an inheritance of vacuity behind it. The +curious and elaborate hardness of the Icelandic Court poetry may +possibly be a sign of this same temper; in another way, the prevalent +coolness of Northern piety, even before the Reformation, is scarcely +to be dissociated from the coolness of the last days of heathendom. +The spirited acuteness of Snorri the Priest and his contemporaries was +succeeded by a moderate and unenthusiastic fashion of religion, for +the most part equally remote from the extravagances and the glories of +the medieval Church. But with these things the Sagas have little to +do; where they are in relation to this common rationalist habit of +mind, it is all to their good. The Sagas are not injured by any +scepticism or coolness in the minds of their authors. The positive +habit of mind in the Icelanders is enough to secure them against a +good deal of the conventional dulness of the Middle Ages. It made them +dissatisfied with anything that seemed wanting in vividness or +immediate force; it led them to select, in their histories, such +things as were interesting in themselves, and to present them +definitely, without any drawling commonplaces, or any makeshift +rhetorical substitutes for accurate vision and clear record. It did +not hinder, but it directed and concentrated the imagination. The +self-repression in the Sagas is bracing. It gives greater clearness, +greater resonance; it does not cut out or renounce anything that is +really worth keeping.</p> + +<p>If not the greatest charm of the Sagas, at any rate that which is +perhaps most generally appreciated by modern readers is their economy +of phrasing in the critical passages, the brevity with which the +incidents<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> and speeches are conveyed, the restriction of all +commentary to the least available compass. Single phrases in the great +scenes of the Sagas are full-charged with meaning to a degree hardly +surpassed in any literature, certainly not in the literatures of +medieval Europe. Half a dozen words will carry all the force of the +tragedy of the Sagas, or render all the suspense and terror of their +adventurous moments, with an effect that is like nothing so much as +the effect of some of the short repressed phrases of Shakespeare in +<i>Hamlet</i> or <i>King Lear</i>. The effect is attained not by study of the +central phrase so much as by the right arrangement and selection of +the antecedents; that is, by right proportion in the narrative. It is +in this way that the killing of Gunnar's dog, in the attack on +Lithend, is made the occasion for one of the great strokes of +narrative. The words of Gunnar, when he is roused by the dog's +howl—"Sore art thou handled, Sam, my fosterling, and maybe it is +meant that there is not to be long between thy death and mine!"—are a +perfect dramatic indication of everything the author wishes to +express—the coolness of Gunnar, and his contempt for his enemies, as +well as his pity for his dog. They set everything in tune for the +story of Gunnar's death which follows. It is in this way that the +adventures of the Sagas are raised above the common form of mere +reported "fightings and flockings," the common tedious story of raids +and reprisals. This is one of the kinds of drama to be found in the +Sagas, and not exclusively in the best of them. One of the conditions +of this manner of composition and this device of phrasing is that the +author shall be able to keep himself out of the story, and let things +make their own impression. This is the result of the Icelandic habit +of restraint. The intellectual coolness of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> Sagas is a pride that +keeps them from pathetic effusions; it does not impede the dramatic +passion, it merely gives a lesson to the sensibilities and sympathies, +to keep them out of the way when they are not wanted.</p> + +<p>This is one notable difference of temper and rhetoric between the +Sagas and the old English poems. One of the great beauties of the old +English poetry is its understanding of the moods of lamentation—the +mood of Ossian it might be called, without much error in the name. The +transience and uncertainty of the world, the memory of past good +fortune, and of things lost,—with themes like these the Anglo-Saxon +poets make some of their finest verse; and while this fashion of +meditation may seem perhaps to have come too readily, it is not the +worst poets who fall in with it. In the Icelandic poetry the notes of +lamentation are not wanting, and it cannot be said that the Northern +elegies are less sweet or less thrilling in their grief than those of +England in the kindred forms of verse. It is enough to think of +<i>Gudrun's Lament</i> in the "Elder Edda," or of <i>Sonatorrek</i>, Egil +Skallagrimsson's elegy on the death of his two sons. It was not any +congenital dulness or want of sense that made the Sagas generally +averse to elegy. No mere writer of Sagas was made of stronger temper +than Egil, and none of them need have been ashamed of lamentation +after Egil had lamented. But they saw that it would not do, that the +fabric of the Saga was not made for excessive decoration of any kind, +and least of all for parenthesis of elegy. The English heroic poetry +is more relenting. <i>Beowulf</i> is invaded by pathos in a way that often +brings the old English verse very nearly to the tone of the great +lament for Lancelot at the end of the <i>Morte d'Arthur</i>; which, no +doubt, is justification<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> enough for any lapse from the pure heroic. In +the Sagas the sense of all the vanity of human wishes is expressed in +a different way: the lament is turned into dramatic action; the +author's sympathy is not shown in direct effusions, but in his +rendering of the drama.<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> The best instance of this is the story of +Howard of Icefirth.</p> + +<p>Howard's son Olaf, a high-spirited and generous young man, comes under +the spite of a domineering gentleman, all the more because he does +some good offices of his own free will for this tyrannical person. +Olaf is attacked and killed by the bully and his friends; then the +story goes on to tell of the vengeance of his father and mother. The +grief of the old man is described as a matter of fact; he was lame and +feeble, and took to his bed for a long time after his son's death. +Then he roused himself, and he and his wife went to look for help, and +finally were able to bring down their enemy. In all this there is no +reflexion or commentary by the author. The pathos is turned into +narrative; it is conveyed by means of the form of the story, the +relation of the incidents to one another. The passion of the old +people turns into resolute action, and is revealed in the perseverance +of Bjargey, Olaf's mother, tracking out her enemy and coming to her +kinsmen to ask for help. She rows her boat round her enemy's ship and +finds out his plans; then she goes to her brothers' houses, one after +another, and "borrows" avengers for her son. The repression and irony +of the Icelandic character are shown in the style of her address to +her brothers. "I have come to borrow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> your nets," she says to one, and +"I have come to borrow your turf-spade," to another; all which is +interpreted aright by the brothers, who see what her meaning is. Then +she goes home to her husband; and here comes in, not merely irony, but +an intentional rebuke to sentiment. Her husband is lying helpless and +moaning, and she asks him whether he has slept. To which he answers in +a stave of the usual form in the Sagas, the purport of which is that +he has never known sleep since the death of Olaf his son. "'Verily +that is a great lie,' says she, 'that thou hast never slept once these +three years. But now it is high time to be up and play the man, if +thou wilt have revenge for Olaf thy son; because never in thy days +will he be avenged, if it be not this day.' And when he heard his +wife's reproof he sprang out of bed on to the floor, and sang this +other stave,"—of which the substance is still lamentation, but +greatly modified in its effect by the action with which it is +accompanied. Howard seems to throw off his age and feebleness as time +goes on, and the height of his passion is marked by a note of his +cheerfulness and gladness after he has killed his enemy. This is +different from the method of <i>Beowulf</i>, where the grief of a father +for his son is rendered in an elegy, with some beauty and some +irrelevance, as if the charm of melancholy were too much for the +story-teller.</p> + +<p>The hardness of the Sagas is sometimes carried too far for the taste +of some readers, and there is room for some misgiving that in places +the Sagas have been affected by the contrary vice from that of +effusive pathos, namely, by a pretence of courage and endurance. In +some of the Northern poetry, as in <i>Ragnar's Death-Song</i>,<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a> there +may be detected the same kind of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> insincere and exaggerated heroism as +in the modern romantic imitations of old Northern sentiment, now +fortunately less common than in the great days of the Northern +romantic movement at the beginning of this century. The old Northern +poetry seems to have become at one stage too self-conscious of the +literary effect of magnanimity, too quick to seize all the literary +profit that was to be made out of the conventional Viking. The Viking +of the modern romantic poets has been the affliction of many in the +last hundred years; none of his patrons seem to have guessed that he +had been discovered, and possibly had begun to be a bore, at a time +when the historical "Viking Age" had scarcely come to its close. There +is little in the Icelandic Sagas to show any affinity with his forced +and ostentatious bravery; but it may be suspected that here and there +the Sagas have made some use of the theatrical Viking, and have thrown +their lights too strongly on their death scenes. Some of the most +impressive passages of the Sagas are those in which a man receives a +death-wound with a quaint remark, and dies forthwith, like Atli in the +story of Grettir, who was thrust through as he stood at his door, and +said, "Those broad spears are in fashion now," as he went down. This +scene is one of the best of its kind; there is no fault to be found +with it. But there are possibly too many scenes and speeches of the +same sort; enough to raise the suspicion that the situation and the +form of phrase were becoming a conventional device, like some of the +"machines" in the secondary Sagas, and in the too-much-edited parts of +the better ones. This suspicion is not one that need be scouted or +choked off. The worser parts and baser parts of the literature are to +be detected by any means and all means. It is well in criticism, +however, to supplement this amputating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> practice by some regard for +the valid substances that have no need of it, and in this present case +to look away from the scenes where there is suspicion of journey work +and mechanical processes to the masterpieces that set the standard; +more especially to the story of the burning of Njal, which more than +any other is full of the peculiar strength and quality of the Sagas.</p> + +<p>The beauty of <i>Njála</i>, and especially of the chapters about Njal's +death, is the result of a harmony between two extremes of sentiment, +each of which by itself was dangerous, and both of which have here +been brought to terms with each other and with the whole design of the +work. The ugliness of Skarphedinn's demeanour might have turned out to +be as excessive as the brutalities of <i>Svarfdæla</i> or <i>Ljósvetninga +Saga</i>; the gentleness of Njal has some affinities with the gentleness +of the martyrs. Some few passages have distinctly the homiletic or +legendary tone about them:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Then Flosi and his men made a great pile before each of the +doors, and then the women-folk who were inside began to weep +and to wail.</p> + +<p>Njal spoke to them, and said: "Keep up your hearts, nor +utter shrieks, for this is but a passing storm, and it will +be long before you have another such; and put your faith in +God, and believe that He is so merciful that He will not let +us burn both in this world and the next."</p> + +<p>Such words of comfort had he for them all, and others still +more strong (c. 128, Dasent's translation).</p></div> + +<p>It is easy to see in what school the style of this was learned, and of +this other passage, about Njal after his death:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Then Hjallti said, "I shall speak what I say with all +freedom of speech. The body of Bergthora looks as it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> was +likely she would look, and still fair; but Njal's body and +visage seem to me so bright that I have never seen any dead +man's body so bright as this" (c. 131).</p></div> + +<p>At the other extreme are the heathenish manners of Skarphedinn, who, +in the scene at the Althing, uses all the bad language of the old +"flytings" in the heroic poetry,<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a> who "grins" at the attempts to +make peace, who might easily, by a little exaggeration and change of +emphasis, have been turned into one of the types of the false heroic.</p> + +<p>Something like this has happened to Egil, in another Saga, through +want of balance, want of comprehensive imagination in the author. In +<i>Njála</i>, where no element is left to itself, the picture is complete +and full of variety. The prevailing tone is neither that of the homily +nor that of the robustious Viking; it is the tone of a narrative that +has command of itself and its subject, and can play securely with +everything that comes within its scope.</p> + +<p>In the death of Njal the author's imagination has found room for +everything,—for the severity and the nobility of the old Northern +life, for the gentleness of the new religion, for the irony in which +the temper of Skarphedinn is made to complement and illustrate the +temper of Njal.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Then Flosi went to the door and called out to Njal, and said +he would speak with him and Bergthora.</p> + +<p>Now Njal does so, and Flosi said: "I will offer thee, master +Njal, leave to go out, for it is unworthy that thou shouldst +burn indoors."</p> + +<p>"I will not go out," said Njal, "for I am an old man, and +little fitted to avenge my sons, but I will not live in +shame."</p> + +<p>Then Flosi said to Bergthora: "Come thou out, housewife, for +I will for no sake burn thee indoors."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I was given away to Njal young," said Bergthora, "and I +have promised him this, that we should both share the same +fate."</p> + +<p>After that they both went back into the house.</p> + +<p>"What counsel shall we now take?" said Bergthora.</p> + +<p>"We will go to our bed," says Njal, "and lay us down; I have +long been eager for rest."</p> + +<p>Then she said to the boy Thord, Kari's son: "Thee will I +take out, and thou shalt not burn in here."</p> + +<p>"Thou hast promised me this, grandmother," says the boy, +"that we should never part so long as I wished to be with +thee; but methinks it is much better to die with thee and +Njal than to live after you."</p> + +<p>Then she bore the boy to her bed, and Njal spoke to his +steward and said:—</p> + +<p>"Now shalt thou see where we lay us down, and how I lay us +out, for I mean not to stir an inch hence, whether reek or +burning smart me, and so thou wilt be able to guess where to +look for our bones."</p> + +<p>He said he would do so.</p> + +<p>There had been an ox slaughtered, and the hide lay there. +Njal told the steward to spread the hide over them, and he +did so.</p> + +<p>So there they lay down both of them in their bed, and put +the boy between them. Then they signed themselves and the +boy with the cross, and gave over their souls into God's +hand, and that was the last word that men heard them utter.</p> + +<p>Then the steward took the hide and spread it over them, and +went out afterwards. Kettle of the Mark caught hold of him +and dragged him out; he asked carefully after his +father-in-law Njal, but the steward told him the whole +truth. Then Kettle said:—</p> + +<p>"Great grief hath been sent on us, when we have had to share +such ill-luck together."</p> + +<p>Skarphedinn saw how his father laid him down and how he laid +himself out, and then he said:—</p> + +<p>"Our father goes early to bed, and that is what was to be +looked for, for he is an old man."</p></div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> + +<p>The harmonies of <i>Laxdæla</i> are somewhat different from those of the +history of Njal, but here again the elements of grace and strength, of +gentleness and terror, are combined in a variety of ways, and in such +a way as to leave no preponderance to any one exclusively. Sometimes +the story may seem to fall into the exemplary vein of the "antique +poet historicall"; sometimes the portrait of Kjartan may look as if it +were designed, like the portrait of Amadis or Tirant the White, "to +fashion a gentleman or noble person in vertuous and gentle +discipline." Sometimes the story is involved in the ordinary business +of Icelandic life, and Kjartan and Bolli, the Sigurd and Gunnar of the +tragedy, are seen engaged in common affairs, such as make the alloy of +heroic narrative in the <i>Odyssey</i>. The hero is put to the proof in +this way, and made to adapt himself to various circumstances. +Sometimes the story touches on the barbarism and cruelty, which were +part of the reality familiar to the whole of Iceland in the age of the +Sturlungs, of which there is more in the authentic history of the +Sturlungs than in the freer and more imaginative story of Kjartan. At +one time the story uses the broad and fluent form of narrative, +leaving scene after scene to speak for itself; at other times it +allows itself to be condensed into a significant phrase. Of these +emphatic phrases there are two especially, both of them speeches of +Gudrun, and the one is the complement of the other: the one in the +tone of irony, Gudrun's comment on the death of Kjartan, a repetition +of Brynhild's phrase on the death of Sigurd;<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> the other Gudrun's +confession to her son at the end of the whole matter.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> +<div class="blockquot"><p>Gudrun meets her husband coming back, and says: "A good +day's work and a notable; I have spun twelve ells of yarn, +and you have slain Kjartan Olaf's son."</p> + +<p>Bolli answers: "That mischance would abide with me, without +thy speaking of it."</p> + +<p>Said Gudrun: "I reckon not that among mischances; it seemed +to me thou hadst greater renown that winter Kjartan was in +Norway, than when he came back to Iceland and trampled thee +under foot. But the last is best, that Hrefna will not go +laughing to bed this night."</p> + +<p>Then said Bolli in great wrath: "I know not whether she will +look paler at this news than thou, and I doubt thou mightest +have taken it no worse if we had been left lying where we +fought, and Kjartan had come to tell of it."</p> + +<p>Gudrun saw that Bolli was angry, and said: "Nay, no need of +words like these; for this work I thank thee; there is an +earnest in it that thou wilt not thwart me after."</p></div> + +<p>This is one of the crises of the story, in which the meaning of Gudrun +is brought out in a short passage of dialogue, at the close of a +section of narrative full of adventure and incident. In all that +precedes, in the relations of Gudrun to Kjartan before and after her +marriage with Bolli, as after the marriage of Kjartan and Hrefna, the +motives are generally left to be inferred from the events and actions. +Here it was time that Gudrun should speak her mind, or at least the +half of her mind.</p> + +<p>Her speech at the end of her life is equally required, and the two +speeches are the complement of one another. Bolli her son comes to see +her and sits with her.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The story tells that one day Bolli came to Helgafell; for +Gudrun was always glad when he came to see her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> Bolli sat +long with his mother, and there was much talk between them. +At last Bolli said: "Mother, will you tell me one thing? It +has been in my mind to ask you, who was the man you loved +best?"</p> + +<p>Gudrun answers: "Thorkell was a great man and a lordly; and +no man was goodlier than Bolli, nor of gentler breeding; +Thord Ingwin's son was the most discreet of them all, a wise +man in the law. Of Thorvald I make no reckoning."</p> + +<p>Then says Bolli: "All this is clear, all the condition of +your husbands as you have told; but it has not yet been told +whom you loved best. You must not keep it secret from me +longer."</p> + +<p>Gudrun answers: "You put me hard to it, my son; but if I am +to tell any one, I will rather tell you than another."</p> + +<p>Bolli besought her again to tell him. Then said Gudrun: "I +did the worst to him, the man that I loved the most."</p> + +<p>"Now may we believe," says Bolli, "that there is no more to +say."</p> + +<p>He said that she had done right in telling him what he +asked.</p> + +<p>Gudrun became an old woman, and it is said that she lost her +sight. She died at Helgafell, and there she rests.</p></div> + +<p>This is one of the passages which it is easy to quote, and also +dangerous. The confession of Gudrun loses incalculably when detached +from the whole story, as also her earlier answer fails, by itself, to +represent the meaning and the art of the Saga. They are the two keys +that the author has given; neither is of any use by itself, and both +together are of service only in relation to the whole story and all +its fabric of incident and situation and changing views of life.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="III.V"></a>V</h3> + +<h3>COMEDY</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Poetical Justice of Tragedy is observed, and rightly observed, in +many of the Sagas and in the greater plots. Fate and Retribution +preside over the stories of Njal and his sons, and the <i>Lovers of +Gudrun</i>. The story of Gisli works itself out in accordance with the +original forebodings, yet without any illicit process in the logic of +acts and motives, or any intervention of the mysterious powers who +accompany the life of Gisli in his dreams. Even in less consistent +stories the same ideas have a part; the story of Gudmund the Mighty, +which is a series of separate chapters, is brought to an end in the +Nemesis for Gudmund's injustice to Thorkell Hake. But the Sagas claim +exemption from the laws of Tragedy, when poetical Justice threatens to +become tyrannical. Partly by the nature of their origin, no doubt, and +their initial dependence on historical recollections of actual +events,<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a> they are driven to include a number of things that might +disappoint a well-educated gallery of spectators; the drama is not +always worked out, or it may be that the meaning of a chapter or +episode lies precisely in the disappointment of conventional +expectations.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> +<p>There is only one comedy, or at most two, among the Sagas—the story +of the Confederates (<i>Bandamanna Saga</i>) with an afterpiece, the short +story of Alecap (<i>Olkofra Þáttr</i>). The composition of the Sagas, +however, admits all sorts of comic passages and undignified +characters, and it also quietly unravels many complications that seem +to be working up for a tragic ending. The dissipation of the storm +before it breaks is, indeed, so common an event that it almost becomes +itself a convention of narrative in the Sagas, by opposition to the +common devices of the feud and vengeance. There is a good instance of +this paradoxical conclusion in <i>Arons Saga</i> (c. 12), an authentic +biography, apparently narrating an actual event. The third chapter of +<i>Glúma</i> gives another instance of threatened trouble passing away. +Ivar, a Norwegian with a strong hatred of Icelanders, seems likely to +quarrel with Eyolf, Glum's father, but being a gentleman is won over +by Eyolf's bearing. This is a part of the Saga where one need not +expect to meet with any authentic historical tradition. The story of +Eyolf in Norway is probably mere literature, and shows the working of +the common principles of the Saga, as applied by an author of fiction. +The sojourn of Grettir with the two foster-brothers is another +instance of a dangerous situation going off without result. The whole +action of <i>Vápnfirðinga Saga</i> is wound up in a reconciliation, which +is a sufficient close; but, on the other hand, the story of Glum ends +in a mere exhaustion of the rivalries, a drawn game. One of the later +more authentic histories, the story of Thorgils and Haflidi, dealing +with the matters of the twelfth century and not with the days of +Gunnar, Njal, and Snorri the Priest, is a story of rivalry passing +away, and may help to show how the composers of the Sagas were +influenced by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> their knowledge and observation of things near their +own time in their treatment of matters of tradition.</p> + +<p>Even more striking than this evasion of the conventional plot of the +blood-feud, is the freedom and variety in respect of the minor +characters, particularly shown in the way they are made to perplex the +simple-minded spectator. To say that all the characters in the Sagas +escape from the limitations of mere typical humours might be to say +too much; but it is obvious that simple types are little in favour, +and that the Icelandic authors had all of them some conception of the +ticklish and dangerous variability of human dispositions, and knew +that hardly any one was to be trusted to come up to his looks, for +good or evil. Popular imagination has everywhere got at something of +this sort in its views of the lubberly younger brother, the ash-raker +and idler who carries off the princess. Many of the heroes of the +Sagas are noted to have been slow in their growth and unpromising, +like Glum, but there are many more cases of change of disposition in +the Sagas than can be summed up under this old formula. There are +stories of the quiet man roused to action, like Thorarin in +<i>Eyrbyggja</i>, where it is plain that the quietness was strength from +the first. A different kind of courage is shown by Atli, the +poor-spirited prosperous man in <i>Hávarðar Saga</i>, who went into hiding +to escape being dragged into the family troubles, but took heart and +played the man later on. One of the most effective pieces of comedy in +the Sagas is the description of his ill-temper when he is found out, +and his gradual improvement. He comes from his den half-frozen, with +his teeth chattering, and nothing but bad words for his wife and her +inconvenient brother who wants his help. His wife puts him to bed, and +he comes to think better of himself and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> world; the change of his +mind being represented in the unobtrusive manner which the Sagas +employ in their larger scenes.</p> + +<p>One of the most humorous and effective contradictions of the popular +judgment is that episode in <i>Njála</i>, where Kari has to trust to the +talkative person whose wife has a low opinion of him. It begins like +farce: any one can see that Bjorn has all the manners of the +swaggering captain; his wife is a shrew and does not take him at his +own valuation. The comedy of Bjorn is that he proves to be something +different both from his own Bjorn and his wife's Bjorn. He is the +idealist of his own heroism, and believes in himself as a hero. His +wife knows better; but the beauty of it all is that his wife is wrong. +His courage, it is true, is not quite certain, but he stands his +ground; there is a small particle of a hero in him, enough to save +him. His backing of Kari in the fight is what many have longed to see, +who have found little comfort in the discomfiture of Bobadil and +Parolles, and who will stand to it that the chronicler has done less +than justice to Sir John Falstaff both at Gadshill and Shrewsbury. +Never before Bjorn of <i>Njála</i> was there seen on any theatre the person +of the comfortable optimist, with a soul apparently damned from the +first to a comic exposure and disgrace, but escaping this because his +soul has just enough virtue to keep him steady. The ordeal of Bjorn +contains more of the comic spirit than all the host of stage cowards +from Pyrgopolinices to Bob Acres, precisely because it introduces +something more than the simple humour, an essence more spiritual and +capricious.</p> + +<p>Further, the partnership of Kari and Bjorn, and Kari's appreciation of +his idealist companion, go a long way to save Kari from a too +exclusive and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> limited devotion to the purpose of vengeance. There is +much to be said on behalf of this Bjorn. His relations with Kari +prevent the hero of the latter part of the book from turning into a +mere hero. The humorous character of the squire brings out something +new in the character of the knight, a humorous response; all which +goes to increase the variety of the story, and to widen the difference +between this story and all the monotonous and abstract stories of +chivalrous adventures.</p> + +<p>The Sagas have comedy in them, comic incidents and characters, because +they have no notion of the dignity of abstract and limited heroics; +because they cannot understand the life of Iceland otherwise than in +full, with all its elements together. The one intentionally comic +history, <i>Bandamanna Saga</i>, "The Confederates," which is exceptional +in tone and plot, is a piece of work in which what may be called the +form or spirit or idea of the heroic Saga is brought fully within +one's comprehension by means of contrast and parody. <i>Bandamanna Saga</i> +is a complete work, successful in every detail; as an artistic piece +of composition it will stand comparison with any of the Sagas. But it +is comedy, not tragedy; it is a mock-heroic, following the lines of +the heroic model, consistently and steadily, and serving as a +touchstone for the vanity of the heroic age. It is worth study, for +Comedy is later and therefore it would seem more difficult than +Tragedy, and this is the first reasonable and modern comedy in the +history of modern Europe. Further, the method of narrative, and +everything in it except the irony, belong to all the Sagas in common; +there is nothing particularly new or exceptional in the style or the +arrangement of the scenes; it is not so much a parody or a +mock-heroic, as an heroic work inspired with comic irony. It is not a +new kind of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> Saga, it is the old Saga itself put to the ordeal by the +Comic Muse, and proving its temper under the severest of all strains.</p> + +<p>This is the story of the Confederates.—There was a man named Ufeig +who lived in Midfirth, a free-handed man, not rich, who had a son +named Odd. The father and son disagreed, and Odd, the son, went off to +make his own fortune, and made it, without taking any further notice +of his father. The two men are contrasted; Ufeig being an unsuccessful +man and a humorist, too generous and too careless to get on in the +world, while Odd, his son, is born to be a prosperous man. The main +plot of the story is the reconciliation of the respectable son and the +prodigal father, which is brought about in the most perfect and +admirable manner.</p> + +<p>Odd got into trouble. He had a lawsuit against Uspak, a violent person +whom he had formerly trusted, who had presumed too much, had been +disgraced, and finally had killed the best friend of Odd in one of the +ways usual in such business in the Sagas. In the course of the lawsuit +a slight difficulty arose—one of Odd's jurymen died, and another had +to be called in his place. This was informal, but no one at first made +anything of it; till it occurred to a certain great man that Odd was +becoming too strong and prosperous, and that it was time to put him +down. Whereupon he went about and talked to another great man, and +half persuaded him that this view was the right one; and then felt +himself strong enough to step in and break down the prosecution by +raising the point about the formation of the jury. Odd went out of the +court without a word as soon as the challenge was made.</p> + +<p>While he was thinking it over, and not making much of it, there +appeared an old, bent, ragged man,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> with a flapping hat and a +pikestaff; this was Ufeig, his father, to whom he had never spoken +since he left his house. Ufeig now is the principal personage in the +story. He asks his son about the case and pretends to be surprised at +his failure. "Impossible! it is not like a gentleman to try to take in +an old man like me; how could you be beaten?" Finally, after Odd had +been made to go over all the several points of his humiliation, he is +reduced to trust the whole thing to his father, who goes away with the +comforting remark that Odd, by leaving the court when he did, before +the case was finished, had made one good move in the game, though he +did not know it. Ufeig gets a purse full of money from his son; goes +back to the court, where (as the case is not yet closed) he makes an +eloquent speech on the iniquity of such a plea as has been raised. "To +let a man-slayer escape, gentlemen! where are your oaths that you +swore? Will you prefer a paltry legal quibble to the plain open +justice of the case?" and so on, impressively and emotionally, in the +name of Equity, while all the time (equity + <i>x</i>) he plays with the +purse under his cloak, and gets the eyes of the judges fixed upon it. +Late in the day, Odd is brought back to hear the close of the case, +and Uspak is outlawed.</p> + +<p>Then the jealousy of the great men comes to a head, and a compact is +formed among eight of them to make an end of Odd's brand-new +prosperity. These eight are the Confederates from whom the Saga is +named, and the story is the story of Ufeig's ingenuity and malice as +applied to these noble Pillars of Society. To tell it rightly would be +to repeat the Saga. The skill with which the humorist plays upon the +strongest motives, and gets the conspirators to betray one another, is +not less beautifully represented than the spite which the humorist +provokes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> among the subjects of his experiments. The details are +finished to the utmost; most curiously and subtly in some of the +indications of character and disposition in the eight persons of +quality. The details, however, are only the last perfection of a work +which is organic from the beginning. Ufeig, the humorist, is the +servant and deputy of the Comic Muse, and there can be no doubt of the +validity of his credentials, or of the soundness of his procedure. He +is the ironical critic and censor of the heroic age; his touch is +infallible, as unerring as that of Figaro, in bringing out and making +ridiculous the meanness of the nobility. The decline and fall of the +noble houses is recorded in <i>Sturlunga Saga</i>; the essence of that +history is preserved in the comedy of the <i>Banded Men</i>.</p> + +<p>But, however the material of the heroic age may be handled in this +comedy, the form of heroic narrative comes out unscathed. There is +nothing for the comic spirit to fix upon in the form of the Sagas. The +Icelandic heroes may be vulnerable, but Comedy cannot take advantage +of them except by using the general form of heroic narrative in +Iceland, a form which proves itself equally capable of Tragedy and +Comedy. And as the more serious Icelandic histories are comprehensive +and varied, so also is this comic history. It is not an artificial +comedy, nor a comedy of humours, nor a purely satirical comedy. It is +no more exclusive or abstract in its contents than <i>Njála</i>; its strict +observance of limit and order is not the same thing as monotony; its +unity of action is consistent with diversities of motive. Along with, +and inseparable from, the satirical criticism of the great world, as +represented by the eight discomfited noble Confederates, there is the +even more satisfactory plot of the Nemesis of Respectability in the +case of Odd;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> while the successful malice and craft of Ufeig are +inseparable from the humanity, the constancy, and the imaginative +strength, which make him come out to help his prosaic son, and enable +him, the bent and thriftless old man, to see all round the frontiers +of his son's well-defined and uninteresting character. Also the +variety of the Saga appears in the variety of incident, and that +although the story is a short one. As the solemn histories admit of +comic passages, so conversely this comic history touches upon the +tragic. The death of Vali, slain by Uspak, is of a piece with the most +heroic scenes in Icelandic literature. Vali the friend of Odd goes +along with him to get satisfaction out of Uspak the mischief-maker. +Vali is all for peace; he is killed through his good nature, and +before his death forgives and helps his assailant.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>And when with the spring the days of summons came on, Odd +rode out with twenty men, till he came near by the garth of +Svalastead. Then said Vali to Odd: "Now you shall stop here, +and I will ride on and see Uspak, and find out if he will +agree to settle the case now without more ado." So they +stopped, and Vali went up to the house. There was no one +outside; the doors were open and Vali went in. It was dark +within, and suddenly there leapt a man out of the side-room +and struck between the shoulders of Vali, so that he fell on +the spot. Said Vali: "Look out for yourself, poor wretch! +for Odd is coming, hard by, and means to have your life. +Send your wife to him; let her say that we have made it up; +and you have agreed to everything, and that I have gone on +about my own gear down the valley!" Then said Uspak: "This +is an ill piece of work; this was meant for Odd and not for +you."</p></div> + +<p>This short heroic scene in the comedy has an effect corresponding to +that of the comic humours in the Icelandic tragedies; it redresses the +balance, it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> qualifies and diversifies what would otherwise be +monotonous. Simple and clear in outline as the best of the short +Icelandic stories are, they are not satisfied unless they have +introduced something, if only a suggestion, of worlds different from +their own immediate interests, a touch to show where their proper +story branches out into the history of other characters and fortunes. +This same story of the Confederates is wound up at the end, after the +reconciliation of the father and son, by a return to the adventures of +Uspak and to the subordinate tragic element in the comedy. The +poetical justice of the story leaves Uspak, the slayer of Vali, dead +in a cave of the hills; discovered there, alone, by shepherds going +their autumn rounds.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="III.VI"></a>VI</h3> + +<h3>THE ART OF NARRATIVE</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> art of the Sagas will bear to be tested in every way: not that +every Saga or every part of one is flawless, far from it; but they all +have, though in different measure, the essentials of the fine art of +story-telling. Except analysis, it is hardly possible to require from +a story anything which will not be found supplied in some form or +other in the Sagas. The best of them have that sort of unity which can +hardly be described, except as a unity of life—the organic unity that +is felt in every particular detail. It is absurd to take separately +the details of a great work like <i>Njála</i>, or of less magnificent but +not less perfect achievements such as the story of Hrafnkel. There is +no story in the world that can surpass the <i>Bandamanna Saga</i> in the +liveliness with which each particular reveals itself as a moment in +the whole story, inseparable from the whole, and yet in its own proper +space appearing to resume and absorb the life of the whole. Where the +work is elaborated in this way, where every particular is organic, it +is not possible to do much by way of illustration, or to exhibit +piecemeal what only exists as a complete thing, and can only be +understood as such. It is of some importance in the history of +literature that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> rank and general character of these Icelandic +works should be asserted and understood. It would be equally laborious +and superfluous to follow each of them with an exposition of the value +of each stroke in the work. There are difficulties enough in the +language, and in the history, without any multiplication of +commentaries on the obvious; and there is little in the art of the +Sagas that is of doubtful import, however great may be the lasting +miracle that such things, of such excellence, should have been written +there and then.</p> + +<p>There is one general quality or characteristic of the Sagas which has +not yet been noticed, one which admits of explanation and +illustration, while it represents very well the prevailing mode of +imagination in the Sagas. The imaginative life of the Sagas (in the +best of them) is intensely strong at each critical point of the story, +with the result that all abstract, makeshift explanations are driven +out; the light is too strong for them, and the events are made to +appear in the order of their appearance, with their meaning gradually +coming out as the tale rolls on. No imagination has ever been so +consistently intolerant of anything that might betray the author's +knowledge before the author's chosen time. That everything should +present itself first of all as appearance, before it becomes +appearance with a meaning, is a common rule of all good story-telling; +but no historians have followed this rule with so complete and sound +an instinct as the authors of the Sagas. No medieval writers, and few +of the modern, have understood the point of view as well as the +authors of the story of Njal or of Kjartan. The reserve of the +narrator in the most exciting passages of the Sagas is not dulness or +want of sensibility; it is a consistent mode of procedure, to allow +things to make their own impres<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>sion; and the result is attained by +following the order of impressions in the mind of one of the actors, +or of a looker-on. "To see things as they are" is an equivocal +formula, which may be claimed as their own privilege by many schools +and many different degrees of intelligence. "To see things as they +become," the rule of Lessing's <i>Laocoon</i>, has not found so many +adherents, but it is more certain in meaning, and more pertinent to +the art of narrative. It is a fair description of the aim of the +Icelandic authors and of their peculiar gift. The story for them is +not a thing finished and done with; it is a series of pictures rising +in the mind, succeeding, displacing, and correcting one another; all +under the control of a steady imagination, which will not be hurried, +and will not tell the bearing of things till the right time comes. The +vivid effect of the Saga, if it be studied at all closely, will be +found to be due to this steadiness of imagination which gives first +the blurred and inaccurate impression, the possibility of danger, the +matter for surmises and suspicions, and then the clearing up. Stated +generally in this way, the rule is an elementary one, but it is +followed in the Sagas with a singular consistency and success, and +with something more than a compulsory obedience. That both the +narrators and their audience in that country had their whole lives +filled with momentous problems in the interpretation of appearances +may well be understood. To identify a band of riders in the distance, +or a single man seen hurrying on the other side of the valley, was a +problem which might be a matter of life or death any day; but so it +has been in many places where there is nothing like the narrative art +of Iceland. The Icelandic historian is like no other in putting into +his work the thrill of suspense at something indistinctly seen going +on in the distance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>—a crowd of men moving, not known whether friends +or enemies. So it was in <i>Thorgils Saga</i> (one of the later more +authentic histories, of the Sturlung cycle), when Thorgils and his men +came down to the Althing, and Bard and Aron were sent on ahead to find +out if the way was clear from the northern passes across the plain of +the Thing. Bard and Aron, as they came down past Armannsfell, saw a +number of horses and men on the plain below just where Haflidi, the +enemy, might have been expected to block the way. They left some of +their band to wait behind while they themselves went on. From that +point a chapter and more is taken up with the confused impression and +report brought back by the scouts to the main body. They saw Bard and +Aron ride on to the other people, and saw the others get up to meet +them, carrying weapons; and then Bard and Aron went out of sight in +the crowd, but the bearers of the report had no doubt that they were +prisoners. And further, they thought they made out a well-known horse, +Dapplecheek, and a gold-mounted spear among the strangers, both of +which had belonged to Thorgils, and had been given away by him to one +of his friends. From which it is inferred that his friend has been +robbed of the horse and the spear.</p> + +<p>The use of all this, which turns out to be all made up of true +eyesight and wrong judgment, is partly to bring out Thorgils; for his +decision, against the wish of his companions, is to ride on in any +event, so that the author gets a chapter of courage out of the +mistake. Apart from that, there is something curiously spirited and +attractive in the placing of the different views, with the near view +last of all. In the play between them, between the apprehension of +danger, the first report of an enemy in the way, the appearance of an +indistinct crowd, the false inference,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> and the final truth of the +matter, the Saga is faithful to its vital principle of variety and +comprehensiveness; no one appearance, not even the truest, must be +allowed too much room to itself.</p> + +<p>This indirect description is really the most vivid of all narrative +forms, because it gives the point of view that is wanting in an +ordinary continuous history. It brings down the story-teller from his +abstract and discursive freedom, and makes him limit himself to one +thing at a time, with the greatest advantage to himself and all the +rest of his story. In that way the important things of the story may +be made to come with the stroke and flash of present reality, instead +of being prosed away by the historian and his good grammar.</p> + +<p>There is a very remarkable instance of the use of this method in the +Book of Kings. Of Jehoram, son of Ahab, king of Israel, it is told +formally that "he wrought evil in the sight of the Lord," with the +qualification that his evil was not like that of Ahab and Jezebel. +This is impressive in its formal and summary way. It is quite another +mode of narrative, and it is one in which the spectator is introduced +to vouch for the matter, that presents the king of Israel, once for +all, in a sublime and tragic protest against the sentence of the +historian himself, among the horrors of the famine of Samaria.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>So we boiled my son, and did eat him: and I said unto her on +the next day, Give thy son, that we may eat him; and she +hath hid her son.</p> + +<p>And it came to pass, when the king heard the words of the +woman, that he rent his clothes; and he passed by upon the +wall, and the people looked, and, behold, he had sackcloth +within upon his flesh.</p></div> + +<p>No more than this is told of the unavailing penance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> of Jehoram the +son of Ahab. There is no preparation; all the tragedy lies in this +notice of something casually seen, and left without a commentary, for +any one to make his own story about, if he chooses. There is perhaps +nothing anywhere in narrative quite so sudden as this. The Northern +writers, however, carry out consistently the same kind of principles, +putting their facts or impressions forward in a right order and +leaving them to take care of themselves; while in the presentation of +events the spectator within the story has a good deal given him to do. +Naturally, where the author does not make use of analysis and where he +trusts to the reader's intellect to interpret things aright, the +"facts" must be fairly given; in a lucid order, with a progressive +clearness, from the point of view of those who are engaged in the +action.</p> + +<p>There is another and somewhat different function of the spectator in +the Sagas. In some cases, where there is no problem, where the action +is straightforward, the spectator and his evidence are introduced +merely to give breadth and freedom to the presentment, to get a +foreground for the scene. This is effected best of all, as it happens, +in a passage that called for nothing less than the best of the +author's power and wit; namely, the chapter of the death of Kjartan in +<i>Laxdæla</i>.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>And with this talk of Gudrun, Bolli was made to magnify his +ill-will and his grievance against Kjartan; and took his +weapons and went along with the others. They were nine +altogether; five sons of Osvifr, that is to say, Ospak and +Helgi, Vandrad, Torrad, and Thorolf; Bolli was the sixth, +Gunnlaug the seventh, sister's son of Osvifr, a comely man; +the other two were Odd and Stein, sons of Thorhalla the +talkative. They rode to Svinadal and stopped at the gully +called Hafragil; there they tied their horses and sat down. +Bolli was silent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> all the day, and laid him down at the edge +of the gully, above.</p> + +<p>Kjartan and his companions had come south over the pass, and +the dale was opening out, when Kjartan said that it was time +for Thorkell and his brother to turn back. Thorkell said +they would ride with him to the foot of the dale. And when +they were come south as far as the bothies called the North +Sheilings, Kjartan said to the brothers that they were not +to ride further.</p> + +<p>"Thorolf, the thief, shall not have this to laugh at, that I +was afraid to ride on my way without a host of men."</p> + +<p>Thorkell Whelp makes answer: "We will give in to you and +ride no further; but sorry shall we be if we are not there +and you are in want of men this day."</p> + +<p>Then said Kjartan: "Bolli my kinsman will not try to have my +life, and for the sons of Osvifr, if they lie in wait for +me, it remains to be seen which of us shall tell the tale +afterwards, for all that there may be odds against me."</p> + +<p>After that the brothers and their men rode west again.</p> + +<p>Now Kjartan rides southward down the valley, he and the two +others, An the Swart and Thorarinn. At Hafratindr in +Svinadal lived a man called Thorkell. There is no house +there now. He had gone to look after his horses that day, +and his shepherd along with him. They had a view of both +companies; the sons of Osvifr lying in wait, and Kjartan's +band of three coming down along the dale. Then said the herd +lad that they should go and meet Kjartan; it would be great +luck if they could clear away the mischief that was waiting +for them.</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue," said Thorkell; "does the fool think he +can give life to a man when his doom is set? It is but +little I grudge them their good pleasure, though they choose +to hurt one another to their hearts' content. No! but you +and I, we will get to a place where there will be no risk, +where we can see all their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> meeting and have good sport out +of their play. They all say that Kjartan has more fighting +in him than any man; maybe he will need it all, for you and +I can see that the odds are something."</p> + +<p>And so it had to be as Thorkell wished.</p></div> + +<p>The tragic encounter that follows, the last meeting of the two +friends, Kjartan throwing away his weapons when he sees Bolli coming +against him, Bolli's repentance when he has killed his friend, when he +sits with his knee under Kjartan's head,—all this is told as well as +may be; it is one of the finest passages in all the Sagas. But even +this passage has something to gain from the episode of the churl and +his more generous servant who looked on at the fight. The scene opens +out; the spaces of the valley are shown as they appear to a looker-on; +the story, just before the critical moment, takes us aside from the +two rival bands and gives us the relation between them, the +gradually-increasing danger as the hero and his companions come down +out of the distance and nearer to the ambush.</p> + +<p>In this piece of composition, also, there goes along with the +pictorial vividness of the right point of view a further advantage to +the narrative in the character of the spectator. Two of the most +notable peculiarities of the Icelandic workmanship are thus brought +together,—the habit of presenting actions and events as they happen, +from the point of view of an immediate witness; and the habit of +correcting the heroic ideal by the ironical suggestion of the other +side. Nothing is so deeply and essentially part of the nature of the +Icelandic story, as its inability to give a limited or abstract +rendering of life. It is from this glorious incapacity that there are +derived both the habit of looking at events as appearances, before +they are interpreted, and the habit of checking heroics by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> means of +unheroic details, or, as here, by a suggestion of the way it strikes a +vulgar contemporary. Without this average man and his commentary the +story of the death of Kjartan would lose much. There is first of all +the comic value of the meanness and envy in the mind of the boor, his +complacency at the quarrels and mutual destruction of the magnificent +people. His intrusion on the scene, his judgment of the situation, is +proof of the variety of the life from which the Saga is drawn. More +than that, there is here a rather cruel test of the heroics of +<i>Laxdæla</i>, of the story itself; the notable thing about this spectator +and critic is that his boorish judgment is partly right, as the +judgment of Thersites is partly right—"too much blood and too little +brains." He is vulgar common sense in the presence of heroism. In his +own way a critic of the heroic ideals, his appearance in Svinadal as a +negative and depreciatory chorus in the tragedy of Kjartan is a touch +of something like the mood of <i>Bandamanna Saga</i> in its criticism of +the nobles and their rivalries; although the author of <i>Laxdæla</i> is +careful not to let this dangerous spirit penetrate too far. It is only +enough to increase the sense of the tragic vanity of human wishes in +the life and death of Kjartan Olafsson.</p> + +<p>Everything in the Sagas tends to the same end; the preservation of the +balance and completeness of the history, as far as it goes; the +impartiality of the record. The different sides are not represented as +fully as in <i>Clarissa Harlowe</i> or <i>The Ring and the Book</i>, but they +are allowed their chance, according to the rules, which are not those +of analytical psychology. The Icelandic imagination is content if the +character is briefly indicated in a few dramatic speeches. The brevity +and externality of the Saga method might easily provoke from admirers +of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> Richardson a condemnation like that of Dr. Johnson on those who +know the dial-plate only and not the works. The psychology of the +Sagas, however, brief and superficial as it may be, is yet of the sort +that may be tested; the dials keep time, though the works are not +exposed. It may be doubtful at any moment how Skarphedinn will act, +but when his history is in progress, and when it is finished, the +reader knows that Skarphedinn is rightly rendered, and furthermore +that it is impossible to deal with him except as an individual +character, impressing the mind through a variety of qualities and +circumstances that are inexplicably consistent. It is impossible to +take his character to pieces. The rendering is in one sense +superficial, and open to the censures of the moralist—"from without +inwards"—like the characters of Scott. But as in this latter case, +the superficiality and slightness of the work are deceptive. The +character is given in a few strokes and without elaboration, but it is +given inevitably and indescribably; the various appearances of +Skarphedinn, different at different times, are all consistent with one +another in the unity of imagination, and have no need of psychological +analysis to explain them.</p> + +<p>The characters in the best of the Sagas grow upon the mind with each +successive appearance, until they are known and recognised at a hint. +In some cases it looks almost as if the author's dramatic imagination +were stronger and more just than his deliberate moral opinions; as if +his characters had taken the matter into their own hands, against his +will. Or is it art, and art of the subtlest order, which in Kjartan +Olafsson, the glorious hero, still leaves something of lightness, of +fickleness, as compared both with the intensity of the passion of +Gudrun and the dogged resolution of Bolli? There is another Saga in +which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> a hero of the likeness of Kjartan is contrasted with a dark, +malevolent, not ignoble figure,—the story of the Faroes, of Sigmund +Brestisson and Thrond of Gata. There, at the end of the story, when +Thrond of Gata has taken vengeance for the murder of his old enemy, it +is not Sigmund, the glorious champion of King Olaf, who is most +thought of, but Thrond the dark old man, his opponent and avenger. The +character of Thrond is too strong to be suppressed, and breaks through +the praise and blame of the chronicler, as, in another history, the +character of Saul asserts itself against the party of David. The +charge of superficiality or externality falls away to nothing in the +mind of any one who knows by what slight touches of imagination a +character may be brought home to an audience, if the character is +there to begin with. It is not by elaborate, continuous analysis, but +by a gesture here and a sentence there, that characters are expressed. +The Sagas give the look of things and persons at the critical moments, +getting as close as they can, by all devices, to the vividness of +things as they appear, as they happen; brief and reserved in their +phrasing, but the reverse of abstract or limited in their regard for +the different modes and aspects of life, impartial in their +acknowledgment of the claims of individual character, and unhesitating +in their rejection of conventional ideals, of the conventional +romantic hero as well as the conventional righteous man. The Sagas are +more solid and more philosophical than any romance or legend.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="III.VII"></a>VII</h3> + +<h3>EPIC AND HISTORY</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the close of the heroic literature of Iceland a number of general +causes are to be found at work. The period of the Sagas comes to an +end partly by a natural progress, culmination, and exhaustion of a +definite form of literary activity, partly through external influences +by which the decline is hastened. After the material of the early +heroic traditions had been all used up, after the writers of the +thirteenth century had given their present shapes to the stories of +the tenth and the eleventh centuries, two courses were open, and both +courses were taken. On the one hand the form of the Saga was applied +to historical matter near the writer's own time, or actually +contemporary, on the other hand it was turned to pure fiction. The +literature divides into history and romance. The authentic history, +the Sturlung cycle in particular, is the true heir and successor of +the heroic Saga. The romantic Sagas are less intimately related to the +histories of Njal or Gisli, though those also are representative of +some part of the essence of the Saga, and continue in a shadowy way +something of its original life. The Northern literatures in the +thirteenth century were invaded from abroad by the same romantic +forces as had put an end to the epic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> literature of France; +translations of French romances became popular, and helped to change +the popular taste in Norway and Iceland. At the same time the victory +of Romance was not entirely due to these foreigners; they found allies +in the more fanciful parts of the native literature. The schools of +Northern prose romance, which took the place of the older Sagas, were +indebted almost as much to the older native literature as to Tristram +or Perceval; they are the product of something that had all along been +part, though hardly the most essential part, of the heroic Sagas. The +romantic story of Frithiof and the others like it have disengaged from +the complexity of the older Sagas an element which contributes not a +little, though by no means everything, to the charm of <i>Njála</i> and +<i>Laxdæla</i>.</p> + +<p>The historical work contained in the <i>Sturlunga Saga</i> is a more +comprehensive and thorough modification of the old form. Instead of +detaching one of the elements and using it in separation from the +rest, as was done by the author of <i>Frithiof</i>, for example, the +historian of the Sturlungs kept everything that he was not compelled +to drop by the exigencies of his subject. The biographical and +historical work belonging to the <i>Sturlunga Saga</i> falls outside the +order to which <i>Njal</i> and <i>Gisli</i> belong; it is epic, only in the +sense that a history may be called epic. Nevertheless it is true that +this historical work shows, even better than the heroic Sagas +themselves, what the nature of the heroic literature really is. In +dealing with a more stubborn and less profitable subject it brings out +the virtues of the Icelandic form of narrative.</p> + +<p>The relation of the Saga to authentic history had always been close. +The first attempt to give shape, in writing, to the traditions of the +heroic age was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> made by Ari Thorgilsson (<i>ob.</i> 1148), especially in +his <i>Landnámabók</i>, a history exact and positive, a record in detail of +all the first settlers of the island, with notes of the substance of +the popular stories by which their fame was transmitted. This exact +history, this positive work, precedes the freer and more imaginative +stories, and supplies some of them with a good deal of their matter, +which they work up in their own way. The fashion of writing, the +example of a written form of narrative, was set by Ari; though the +example was not followed closely nor in all points by the writers of +the Sagas: his form is too strict for them.</p> + +<p>It was too strict for his greatest successor in historical writing in +Iceland. Snorri Sturluson is the author of <i>Lives of the Kings of +Norway</i>, apparently founded upon Ari's <i>Book of Kings</i>, which has been +lost as an independent work. Snorri's <i>Lives</i> themselves are extant in +a shape very far from authentic; one has to choose between the +abridged and inconvenient shape of <i>Heimskringla</i>, in which Snorri's +work appears to have been cut down and trimmed, and the looser form +presented by such compilations as the longer Saga of Olaf Tryggvason, +where more of Snorri appears to have been retained than in +<i>Heimskringla</i>, though it has to be extricated from all sorts of +irrelevant additions and interpolations. But whatever problems may +still remain unsolved, it is certain enough that Snorri worked on his +historical material with no intention of keeping to the positive lines +of Ari, and with the fullest intention of giving to his history of +Norway all the imaginative force of which he was capable. This was +considerable, as is proved by the stories of the gods in his <i>Edda</i>; +and in the histories of Olaf Tryggvason and of Saint Olaf, kings of +Norway, he has given companions to the very noblest of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> Sagas +dealing with the Icelandic chiefs. Between the more scientific work of +Ari and the more imaginative work of Snorri comes, half-way, the <i>Life +of King Sverre</i> (<i>ob.</i> 1202), written at the king's own dictation by +the Abbot Karl of Thingeyri.</p> + +<p>Ari collected the historical materials, both for Iceland and Norway, +and put them together in the extant <i>Landnámabók</i> and the lost <i>Kings' +Lives</i>. Snorri Sturluson treated the <i>Kings' Lives</i> in the spirit of +the greater Icelandic Sagas; his <i>Lives</i> belong to heroic literature, +if there is any meaning in that name. The <i>Life of Sverre</i> is not so +glorious as the <i>Life</i> of either Olaf. Abbot Karl had not the same +interests or the same genius as Snorri, and his range was determined, +in most of the work, by the king himself. King Sverre, though he could +quote poetry to good effect when he liked, was mainly practical in his +ideas.</p> + +<p>The Sturlung history, which is the close of the heroic literature of +Iceland, has resemblances to the work of all three of the historians +just named. It is like Ari in its minuteness and accuracy; like +<i>Sverris Saga</i>, it has a contemporary subject to treat of; and it +shares with Snorri his spirit of vivid narrative and his sympathy with +the methods of the greater Sagas of Iceland. If authors were to be +judged by the difficulty of their undertakings, then Sturla, the +writer of the Sturlung history, would certainly come out as the +greatest of them all. For he was limited by known facts as much, or +even more than Ari; while he has given to his record of factions, +feuds, and anarchy almost as much spirit as Snorri gave to his lives +of the heroic kings, and more than Abbot Karl could give to the +history of Sverre and his political success. At the same time, +however, the difficulty of Sturla's work had been a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> good deal reduced +in the gradual progress of Icelandic literature. He had to represent +modern history, the history of his own time, in the form and with the +vividness of the imaginative Sagas. In undertaking this he was helped +by some examples of the same sort of thing, in Sagas written before +his time, and forming an intermediate stage between the group of which +<i>Njála</i> is the head, and Sturla's history of his own family. The +biographies of Icelanders in the twelfth century, like that of +Thorgils and Haflidi quoted above, which form an introduction to the +Sturlung history, are something more authentic than the heroic Sagas, +but not much less spirited. It is difficult to draw a decided line +anywhere between the different classes; or, except by the date of its +subject, to mark off the story of the heroic age from the story of the +rather less heroic age that followed it. There was apparently an +accommodation of the Saga form to modern subjects, effected through a +number of experiments, with a result, complete and admirable, in +Sturla's history of the Sturlung fortunes.</p> + +<p>It may be said, also, that something of the work was done ready to the +author's hand; there was a natural fitness and correspondence between +the Icelandic reality, even when looked at closely by contemporary +eyes in the broad daylight, and the Icelandic form of representation. +The statue was already part shapen in the block, and led the hand of +the artist as he worked upon it. It is dangerous, no doubt, to say +after the work has been done, after the artist has conquered his +material and finished off his subject, that there was a natural +affinity between the subject and the author's mind. In the case of +Iceland, however, this pre-existent harmony is capable of being +proved. The conditions of life in Iceland were, and still are, such as +to exclude a number of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> things that in other countries prevent the +historian from writing epic. There were none of the large, abstract +considerations and problems that turn the history into a dissertation +on political forces, on monarchy, on democracy, on diplomacy; there +were none of the large, vague multitudes of the people that impose +themselves on the historian's attention, to the detriment of his +individual characters. The public history of Iceland lies all in the +lives of private characters; it is the life of a municipality, very +much spread out, it is true, but much more like the life of a country +town or a group of country neighbours, than the society of a complex +state of any kind that has ever existed in Europe. Private interests +and the lives of individual men were what they had to think about and +talk about; and just in so far as they were involved in gossip, they +were debarred from the achievements of political history, and equally +inclined to that sort of record in which individual lives are +everything. If their histories were to have any life at all, it must +be the life of the drama or the dramatic narrative, and not that of +the philosophical history, or even of those medieval chronicles, +which, however unphilosophical, are still obliged by the greatness of +their subject to dwarf the individual actors in comparison with the +greatness of Kingdoms, Church, and Empire. Of those great +impersonalities there was little known in Iceland; and if the story of +Iceland was not to be (what it afterwards became) a mere string of +trivial annals, it must be by a deepening of the personal interest, by +making the personages act and talk, and by following intently the +various threads of their individual lives.</p> + +<p>So far the work was prepared for authors like Sturla, who had to +enliven the contemporary record of life in Iceland; it was prepared to +this extent,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> that any other kind of work was unpromising or even +hopeless. The present life in Sturla's time was, like the life of the +heroic age, a perpetual conflict of private wills, with occasional and +provisional reconciliations. The mode of narrative that was suitable +for the heroic stories could hardly fail to be the proper mode for the +contemporary factions of chiefs, heroic more or less, and so it was +proved by Sturla.</p> + +<p><i>Sturlunga Saga</i> contains some of the finest passages of narrative in +the whole of Icelandic literature. The biographical Sagas, with which +it is introduced or supported, are as good as all but the best of the +heroic Sagas, while they are not out of all comparison even with +<i>Njála</i> or <i>Gísla</i>, with <i>Hrafnkels Saga</i> or <i>Bandamanna</i>, in the +qualities in which these excel.</p> + +<p>The story of Thorgils and Haflidi has already been referred to in +illustration of the Icelandic method of narrative at its best. It is a +good story, well told, with the unities well preserved. The plot is +one that is known to the heroic Sagas—the growth of mischief and +ill-will between two honourable gentlemen, out of the villainy of a +worthless beast who gets them into his quarrels. Haflidi has an +ill-conditioned nephew whom, for his brother's sake, he is loth to +cast off. Thorgils takes up one of many cases in which this nephew is +concerned, and so is brought into disagreement with Haflidi. The end +is reconciliation, effected by the intervention of Bishop Thorlak +Runolfsson and Ketill the priest, aided by the good sense of the +rivals at a point where the game may be handsomely drawn, with no +dishonour to either side. The details are given with great liveliness. +One of the best scenes is that which has already been referred to (p. +238); another may be quoted of a rather different sort from an earlier +year.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> In the year 1120 at the Althing, Thorgils was with difficulty +dissuaded from breaking the peace as they stood, both parties, by the +door of the Thingvalla church on St. Peter's Day. Thorgils' friend +Bodvar had to use both arguments and unction to make him respect the +sanctity of the Althing, of the Church, and of the Saint to whom the +day belonged. Afterwards Thorgils said to his friend, "You are more +pious than people think."</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Bodvar answered: "I saw that we were penned between two +bands of them at the church door, and that if it broke into +a fight we should be cut to pieces. But for that I should +not have cared though Haflidi had been killed in spite of +the peace of Church and Parliament."</p></div> + +<p>The intervention at the end is very well given, particularly Ketill +the priest's story of his own enemy.</p> + +<p><i>Sturlu Saga</i>, the story of the founder of the great Sturlung house, +the father of the three great Sturlung brothers, of whom Snorri the +historian was one, is longer and more important than the story of +Thorgils and Haflidi. The plot is a simple one: the rivalry between +Sturla and Einar, son of Thorgils. The contest is more deadly and more +complicated than that of Thorgils himself against Haflidi; that was +mainly a case of the point of honour, and the opponents were both of +them honourable men, while in this contest Sturla is politic and +unscrupulous, and his adversary "a ruffian by habit and repute." There +is a considerable likeness between the characters of Sturla and of +Snorri the priest, as that is presented in <i>Eyrbyggja</i> and elsewhere. +A comparison of the rise of Snorri, as told in <i>Eyrbyggja</i>, with the +life of Sturla will bring out the unaltered persistence of the old +ways and the old standards, while the advantage lies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> with the later +subject in regard to concentration of interest. The <i>Life of Sturla</i> +is not so varied as <i>Eyrbyggja</i>, but it is a more orderly piece of +writing, and at the same time more lively, through the unity of its +plot. Nor are the details spoiled by any tameness. Notable is the +company of rogues maintained by Einar; they and their ways are well +described. There was Geir the thief, son of Thorgerda the liar; he was +hanged by the priest Helgi. There was Vidcuth, son of stumpy Lina +(these gentry have no father's name to them); he was a short man and a +nimble. The third was Thorir the warlock, a little man from the North +country. This introduction serves to bring on the story of a moonlight +encounter with the robbers in snow; and in this sort of thing the +history of Sturla is as good as the best. It is worth while to look at +the account of the last decisive match with Einar—another snow piece. +It may be discovered there that the closer adhesion to facts, and the +nearer acquaintance with the persons, were no hindrance to the +Icelandic author who knew his business. It was not the multitude and +confusion of real details that could prevent him from making a good +thing out of his subject, if only his subject contained some +opportunity for passion and conflict, which it generally did.</p> + +<p>In this scene of the midnight raid in which the position of the two +rivals is decided, there is nothing at all heightened or exaggerated, +yet the proportions are such, the relations of the incidents are given +in such a way, as could not be bettered by any modern author dealing +with a critical point in a drama of private life. The style is that of +the best kind of subdued and sober narrative in which the excitement +of the situations is not spent in rhetoric.</p> + +<p>It fell at Hvamm in the winter nights (about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> Hallowmass) of the year +1171 that a man passed through, an old retainer of Sturla's; and +Sturla did not like his manner. As it turned out, this man went west +to Stadarhol, the house of Sturla's enemy, and told Einar all the +state of Sturla's house, how there were few men there.</p> + +<p>There was dancing at Hvamm that night, and it was kept up late. The +night was still, and every now and then some would look out and +listen, but they could hear no one stirring.</p> + +<p>The night after that Einar set out. He avoided Hvamm, but came down on +another steading, the house of Sturla's son-in-law Ingjald, and drove +off the cows and sheep, without any alarm; it was not till the morning +that one of the women got up and found the beasts gone. The news was +brought at once to Hvamm. Sturla had risen at daybreak and was looking +to his haystacks; it was north wind, and freezing. Ingjald came up, +and, "Now he is coming to ask me to buy his wethers," says Sturla; for +Sturla had warned him that he was in danger of being raided, and had +tried to get Ingjald to part with his sheep. Ingjald told him of the +robbery. Sturla said nothing, but went in and took down his axe and +shield. Gudny his wife was wakened, and asked what the news was. +"Nothing so far; only Einar has driven all Ingjald's beasts." Then +Gudny sprang up and shouted to the men: "Up, lads! Sturla is out, and +his weapons with him, and Ingjald's gear is gone!"</p> + +<p>Then follows the pursuit over the snow, and the fight, in which +Ingjald is killed, and Einar wounded and driven to beg for quarter. +After which it was the common saying that Einar's strength had gone +over to Sturla.</p> + +<p>It is a piece of clean and exact description, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> particularly of the +succession of scenes and moods in life. The revels go on through the +calm night with an accompaniment of suspense and anxiety. There is no +better note in any chronicle of the anxieties of a lawless time, and +the steady flow of common pleasures in spite of the troubles; all the +manners of an heroic or a lawless time are summed up in the account of +the dance and its intermittent listening for the sound of enemies. +Sturla in the early light sees his son-in-law coming to him, and +thinks he knows what his errand is,—the author here, as usual, +putting the mistaken appearance first, and the true interpretation +second. In the beginning of the pursuit there is the silence and the +repression of a man in a rage, and the vehement call of his wife who +knows what he is about, and finds words for his anger and his purpose. +The weather of the whole story is just enough to play into the human +life—the quiet night, the north wind, and the frosty, sunless +morning. The snow is not all one surface; the drifts on the +hill-sides, the hanging cornice over a gully, these have their place +in the story, just enough to make the movements clear and +intelligible. This is the way history was written when the themes were +later by two centuries than those of the heroic Sagas. There is not +much difference, except in the "soothfastness"; the author is closer +to his subject, his imagination is confronted with something very near +reality, and is not helped, as in the older stories, by traditional +imaginative modifications of his subject.</p> + +<p>It is the same kind of excellence that is found in the other +subsidiary parts of <i>Sturlunga</i>, hardly less than in the main body of +that work. There is no reason for depressing these histories below the +level of any but the strongest work in the heroic Sagas. The history +of Bishop Gudmund and the separate lives of his two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> friends, Hrafn +and Aron, are not less vivid than the stories of the men of Eyre or +the men of Vatzdal. The wanderings of Aron round Iceland are all but +as thrilling as those of the outlaw Gisli or Grettir, whose adventures +and difficulties are so like his own. It is not easy to specify any +element in the one that is not in the other, while the handling of the +more authentic stories is not weak or faltering in comparison with the +others. No single incident in any of the Sagas is much better in its +way, and few are more humane than the scene in which Eyjolf Karsson +gets Aron to save himself, while he, Eyjolf, goes back into +danger.<a name="FNanchor_61_61" id="FNanchor_61_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a></p> + +<p>The <i>Islendinga</i> or <i>Sturlunga Saga</i> of Sturla Thordarson, which is +the greatest of the pure historical works, is in some things inferior +to stories like those of the older Sturla, or of Hrafn and Aron. There +is no hero; perhaps least of all that hero, namely the nation itself, +which gives something like unity to the Shakespearean plays of the +Wars of the Roses. Historically there is much resemblance between the +Wars of the Roses and the faction fights in Iceland in which the old +constitution went to pieces and the old spirit was exhausted. But the +Icelandic tragedy had no reconciliation at the end, and there was no +national strength underneath the disorder, fit to be called out by a +peacemaker or a "saviour of society" like Henry VII. There was nothing +but the family interests of the great houses, and the <i>Sturlunga Saga</i> +leaves it impossible to sympathise with either side in a contest that +has no principles and no great reformer to distinguish it. The anarchy +is worse than in the old days of the Northern rovers; the men are more +formal and more vain. Yet the history of these tumults is not without +its brightness of character. The generous and lawless Bishop Gudmund +belongs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> to the story; so do his champions Eyjolf, Hrafn, and Aron. +The figure of Snorri Sturluson is there, though he is rather +disappointing in his nephew's view of him. His enemy, Gizur the earl, +is a strong man, whose strength is felt in the course of the history; +and there are others.</p> + +<p>The beauty of <i>Sturlunga</i> is that it gives a more detailed and more +rational account than is to be found elsewhere in the world of the +heroic age going to the bad, without a hero. The kind of thing +represented may be found in countless other places, but not Froissart +has rendered it so fully or with such truth, nor the <i>Paston Letters</i> +with more intimate knowledge and experience. It is a history and not +an epic; the title of epic which may be claimed for <i>Njála</i> and +<i>Laxdæla</i>, and even in a sense transferred to the later biographies, +does not rightly belong to Sturla's history of Iceland. It is a record +from year to year; it covers two generations; there is nothing in it +but faction. But it is descended from the epic school; it has the gift +of narrative and of vision. It represents, as no prosaic historian +can, the suspense and the shock of events, the alarm in the night, the +confusion of a house attacked, the encounter of enemies in the open, +the demeanour of men going to their death. The scenes are epic at +least, though the work as a whole is merely historical.</p> + +<p>There is a return in this to the original nature of the Saga, in some +respects. It was in the telling of adventures that the Sagas began, +separate adventures attaching to great names of the early days. The +separate adventures of Gisli were known and were told about before his +history was brought into the form and unity which it now possesses, +where the end is foreknown from the beginning. Many of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> heroic +Sagas have remained in what must be very like their old oral form—a +string of episodes. <i>Eyrbyggja</i>, <i>Vatnsdæla</i>, <i>Flóamanna</i>, +<i>Svarfdæla</i>, are of this sort. <i>Sturlunga</i>, has not more unity than +<i>Eyrbyggja</i>, perhaps not as much, unless the rise of Gizur may be +reckoned to do for it what is done for the older story by the rise of +Snorri the Priest. But while the scenes thus fall apart in +<i>Sturlunga</i>, they are more vivid than in any other Icelandic book. In +no other is the art of description so nearly perfect.</p> + +<p>The scenes of <i>Sturlunga</i> come into rivalry with the best of those in +the heroic Sagas. No one will ever be able to say, much less to +convince any one else, whether the burning of Njal's house or the +burning of Flugumyri is the better told or the more impressive. There +is no comparison between the personages in the two stories. But in +pure art of language and in the certainty of its effect the story of +Flugumyri is not less notable than the story of Bergthorsknoll. It may +be repeated here, to stand as the last words of the great Icelandic +school; the school which went out and had no successor till all its +methods were invented again, independently, by the great novelists, +after ages of fumbling and helpless experiments, after all the +weariness of pedantic chronicles and the inflation of heroic romance.</p> + +<p>Sturla had given his daughter Ingibjorg in marriage to Hall, son of +Gizur, and had come to the wedding at Flugumyri, Gizur's house at the +foot of the hills of Skagafjord, with steep slopes behind and the +broad open valley in front, a place with no exceptional defences, no +fortress. It was here, just after the bridal, and after the bride's +father had gone away, that Gizur's enemy, Eyjolf, came upon him, as he +had threatened openly in men's hearing. Sturla, who had left the house +just before, tells the story with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> the details that came to him from +the eye-witnesses, with exact particular descriptions. But there is no +drag in the story, and nothing mean in the style, whatever may have +been the brutal reality. It is, once again, the great scene of Epic +poetry repeated, the defence of a man's life and of his own people +against surrounding enemies; it is the drama of Gunnar or of Njal +played out again at the very end of the Northern heroic age, and the +prose history is quick to recognise the claims upon it.</p> + +<p>This is the end of the wedding at Flugumyri, in October of the year +1253, as told by Sturla:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p style="text-align: center"><b>THE BURNING OF FLUGUMYRI</b></p> + +<p>Eyjolf saw that the attack was beginning to flag, and grew +afraid that the countryside might be raised upon them; so +they brought up the fire. John of Bakki had a tar-pin with +him; they took the sheepskins from the frames that stood +outside there, and tarred them and set them on fire. Some +took hay and stuffed it into the windows and put fire to it; +and soon there was a great smoke in the house and a choking +heat. Gizur lay down in the hall by one of the rows of +pillars, and kept his nose on the floor. Groa his wife was +near him. Thorbjorn Neb was lying there too, and he and +Gizur had their heads close together. Thorbjorn could hear +Gizur praying to God in many ways and fervently, and thought +he had never before heard praying like it. As for himself, +he could not have opened his mouth for the smoke. After that +Gizur stood up and Groa supported him, and he went to the +south porch. He was much distressed by the smoke and heat, +and thought to make his way out rather than be choked +inside. Gizur Glad was standing at the door, talking to +Kolbein Grön, and Kolbein was offering him quarter, for +there was a pact between them, that if ever it came to that, +they should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> give quarter to one another, whichever of them +had it in his power. Gizur stood behind Gizur Glad, his +namesake while they were talking, and got some coolness the +while. Gizur Glad said to Kolbein, "I will take quarter for +myself, if I may bring out another man along with me." +Kolbein agreed to this at once, excepting only Gizur and his +sons.</p> + +<p>Then Ingibjorg, Sturla's daughter, came to Groa at the door; +she was in her nightgown, and barefoot. She was then in her +fourteenth year, and tall and comely to see. Her silver belt +had tangled round her feet as she came from her bedroom. +There was on it a purse with many gold rings of hers in it; +she had it there with her. Groa was very glad to see her, +and said that there should be one lot for both of them, +whatever might befall.</p> + +<p>When Gizur had got himself cooled a little, he gave up his +thought of dashing out of the house. He was in linen +clothes, with a mail-coat over them, and a steel cap on his +head, and his sword <i>Corselet-biter</i> in his hand. Groa was +in her nightgown only. Gizur went to Groa and took two gold +rings out of his girdle-pocket and put them into her hand, +because he thought that she would live through it, but not +he himself. One ring had belonged to Bishop Magnus his +uncle, and the other to his father Thorvald.</p> + +<p>"I wish my friends to have the good of these," he says, "if +things go as I would have them."</p> + +<p>Gizur saw that Groa took their parting much to heart.</p> + +<p>Then he felt his way through the house, and with him went +Gudmund the Headstrong, his kinsman, who did not wish to +lose sight of him. They came to the doors of the ladies' +room; and Gizur was going to make his way out there. Then he +heard outside the voices of men cursing and swearing, and +turned back from there.</p> + +<p>Now in the meantime Groa and Ingibjorg had gone to the door. +Groa asked for freedom for Ingibjorg. Kolbein heard that, +her kinsman, and asked Ingibjorg<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> to come out to him. She +would not, unless she got leave to take some one out along +with her. Kolbein said that was too much to ask. Groa +besought her to go.</p> + +<p>"I have to look after the lad Thorlak, my sister's son," +says she.</p> + +<p>Thorlak was a boy of ten, the son of Thorleif the Noisy. He +had jumped out of the house before this, and his linen +clothes were all ablaze when he came down to the ground: he +got safe to the church. Some men say that Thorstein Genja +pushed Groa back into the fire; she was found in the porch +afterwards. Kolbein dashed into the fire for Ingibjorg, and +carried her out to the church.</p> + +<p>Then the house began to blaze up. A little after, Hall +Gizur's son [the bridegroom] came to the south door, and +Arni the Bitter, his henchman, with him. They were both very +hard put to it, and distressed by the heat. There was a +board across the doorway, half-way up. Hall did not stop to +look, but jumped straight out over the hatch. He had a sword +in one hand, and no weapon besides. Einar Thorgrimsson was +posted near where he leapt out, and hewed at his head with a +sword, and that was his death-wound. As he fell, another man +cut at his right leg below the knee and slashed it nearly +off. Thorleif the monk from Thverá, the brewer, had got out +before, and was in the yard; he took a sheepskin and put it +under Hall when Einar and the others went away; then he +rolled all together, Hall and the sheepskin, along to the +church when they were not looking. Hall was lightly clad, +and the cold struck deep into his wounds. The monk was +barefoot, and his feet were frostbitten, but he brought +himself and Hall to the church at last.</p> + +<p>Arni leapt out straight after Hall; he struck his foot on +the hatch (he was turning old) and fell as he came out. They +asked who that might be, coming in such a hurry.</p> + +<p>"Arni the Bitter is here," says he; "and I will not ask for +quarter. I see one lying not far away makes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> me like it well +enough if I travel the same road with him."</p> + +<p>Then said Kolbein: "Is there no man here remembers Snorri +Sturluson?"<a name="FNanchor_62_62" id="FNanchor_62_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a></p> + + +<p>They both had a stroke at him, Kolbein and Ari Ingimund's +son, and more of them besides hewed at him, and he came by +his death there.</p> + +<p>Then the hall fell in, beginning from the north side into +the loft above the hall. Now all the buildings began to +flare up, except that the guest-house did not burn, nor the +ladies' room, nor the dairy.</p> + +<p>Now to go back to Gizur: he made his way through the house +to the dairy, with Gudmund, his kinsman, after him. Gizur +asked him to go away, and said that one man might find a way +of escape, if fate would have it so, that would not do for +two. Then Parson John Haldorsson came up; and Gizur asked +them both to leave him. He took off his coat of mail and his +morion, but kept his sword in his hand. Parson John and +Gudmund made their way from the dairy to the south door, and +got quarter. Gizur went into the dairy and found a curd-tub +standing on stocks; there he thrust the sword into the curds +down over the hilts. He saw close by a vat sunk in the earth +with whey in it, and the curd-tub stood over it and nearly +hid the sunken vat altogether. There was room for Gizur to +get into it, and he sat down in the whey in his linen +clothes and nothing else, and the whey came up to his +breast. It was cold in the whey. He had not been long there +when he heard voices, and their talk went thus, that three +men were meant to have the hewing of him; each man his +stroke, and no hurry about it, so as to see how he took it. +The three appointed were Hrani and Kolbein and Ari. And now +they came into the dairy with a light, and searched about +everywhere. They came to the vat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> that Gizur was in, and +thrust into it three or four times with spears. Then there +was a wrangle among them; some said there was something in +the vat, and others said no. Gizur kept his hand over his +belly, moving gently, so that they might be as long as +possible in finding out that there was anything there. He +had grazes on his hands, and all down to his knees skin +wounds, little and many. Gizur said afterwards that before +they came in he was shaking with cold, so that it rippled in +the vat, but after they came in he did not shiver at all. +They made two searches through the dairy, and the second +time was like the first. After that they went out and made +ready to ride away. Those men that still had life in them +were spared, to wit, Gudmund Falkason, Thord the Deacon, and +Olaf, who was afterwards called Guest, whose life Einar +Thorgrimsson had attempted before. By that time it was dawn.</p></div> + +<p>There is one passage in the story of Flugumyri, before the scene of +the burning, in which the narrative is heightened a little, as if the +author were conscious that his subject was related to the matter of +heroic poetry, or as if it had at once, like the battle of Maldon, +begun to be magnified by the popular memory into the likeness of +heroic battles. It is in the description of the defence of the hall +(<i>skáli</i>) at Flugumyri, before the assailants were driven back and had +to take to fire, as is told above.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Eyjolf and his companions made a hard assault on the hall. +Now was there battle joined, and sharp onset, for the +defence was of the stoutest. They kept at it far into the +night, and struck so hard (say the men who were there) that +fire flew, as it seemed, when the weapons came together. +Thorstein Gudmund's son said afterwards that he had never +been where men made a braver stand; and all are agreed to +praise the defence of Flugumyri, both friends and enemies.</p></div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> + +<p>The fire of the swords which is here referred to by the way, and with +something like an apology for exaggeration, is in the poem of +<i>Finnesburh</i> brought out with emphasis, as a proper part of the +composition:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">swurdléoma stód,</span><br /> +Swylce eall Finnesburh fýrenu wǽre.<br /> +<br /> +The sword-light rose, as though all Finnsburgh were aflame.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>It is characteristic of the Icelandic work that it should frequently +seem to reflect the incidents of epic poetry in a modified way. The +Sagas follow the outlines of heroic poetry, but they have to reduce +the epic magnificence, or rather it would be truer to say that they +present in plain language, and without extravagance, some of the +favourite passages of experience that have been at different times +selected and magnified by epic poets. Thus the death of Skarphedinn is +like a prose rendering of the death of Roland; instead of the last +stroke of the hero in his agony, cleaving the rock with Durendal, it +is noted simply that Skarphedinn had driven his axe into the beam +before him, in the place where he was penned in, and there the axe was +found when they came to look for him after the burning. The moderation +of the language here does not conceal the intention of the writer that +Skarphedinn's last stroke is to be remembered. It is by touches such +as these that the heroic nature of the Sagas is revealed. In spite of +the common details and the prose statement, it is impossible to +mistake their essential character. They are something loftier than +history, and their authors knew it. When history came to be written as +it was written by Sturla, it still retained this distinction. It is +history governed by an heroic spirit; and while it is closely bound to +the facts, it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> at the same time controlled and directed by the +forms of an imaginative literature that had grown up in greater +freedom and at a greater distance from its historical matter. Sturla +uses, for contemporary history, a kind of narrative created and +perfected for another purpose, namely for the imaginative +reconstruction and representation of tradition, in the stories of +Njal, Grettir, and Gisli.</p> + +<p>There is no distortion or perversion in this choice and use of his +instrument, any more than in Fielding's adaptation of the method of +<i>Joseph Andrews</i> to the matter of the <i>Voyage to Lisbon</i>. In the first +place, the imaginative form of narrative obliges the author to take +his subject seriously and treat it with dignity; he cannot leave it +crude and unformed. In the second place, there is a real affinity, in +Iceland, between the subject-matters of the true history and the +heroic Saga; the events are of the same kind, the personages are not +unlike.</p> + +<p>The imaginative treatment of the stories of Njal and Gisli had been +founded on real knowledge of life; in <i>Sturlunga</i> the history of real +life is repaid for its loan. In Sturla's book, the contemporary alarms +and excursions, the midnight raids, the perils and escapes, the death +of the strong man, the painful ending of the poor-spirited, all the +shocks and accidents of his own time, are comprehended by the author +in the light of the traditional heroics, and of similar situations in +the imaginative Sagas; and so these matters of real life, and of the +writer's own experience, or near it, come to be co-ordinated, +represented, and made intelligible through imagination. <i>Sturlunga</i> is +something more than a bare diary, or a series of pieces of evidence. +It has an author, and the author understands and appreciates the +matter in hand, because it is illuminated for him by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> the example of +the heroic literature. He carries an imaginative narrative design in +his head, and things as they happen fall into the general scheme of +his story as if he had invented them.</p> + +<p>How much this imaginative kind of true history is bound and indebted +to its native land, how little capable of transportation, is proved in +a very striking and interesting way by Sturla's other work, his essay +in foreign history, the <i>Life of King Hacon of Norway</i>. The <i>Hákonar +Saga</i>, as compared with <i>Sturlunga</i>, is thin, grey, and abstract. It +is a masterly book in its own kind; fluent and clear, and written in +the inimitable Icelandic prose. The story is parallel to the history +of Iceland, contemporary with <i>Sturlunga</i>. It tells of the agonies of +Norway, a confusion no less violent and cruel than the anarchy of +Iceland in the same sixty years; while the Norwegian history has the +advantage that it comes to an end in remedy, not in exhaustion. There +was no one in Iceland like King Hacon to break the heads of the +disorderly great men, and thus make peace in an effective way. +<i>Sturlunga</i>, in Iceland, is made up of mere anarchy; <i>Hákonar Saga</i> is +the counterpart of <i>Sturlunga</i>, exhibiting the cure of anarchy in +Norway under an active king. But while the political import of +Sturla's <i>Hacon</i> is thus greater, the literary force is much less, in +comparison with the strong work of <i>Sturlunga</i>. There is great +dexterity in the management of the narrative, great lucidity; but the +vivid imagination shown in the story of Flugumyri, and hardly less in +other passages of <i>Sturlunga</i>, is replaced in the life of Hacon by a +methodical exposition of facts, good enough as history, but seldom +giving any hint of the author's reserve of imaginative force. It is +not that Sturla does not understand his subject. The tragedy of Duke +Skule does not escape him; he recognises<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> the contradiction in the +life of Hacon's greatest rival, between Skule's own nobility and +generosity of temper, and the hopelessness of the old scrambling +misrule of which he is the representative. But the tragedy of the +<i>Rival Kings</i> (<i>Kongsemnerne</i>) is left for Ibsen to work out in full; +the portraits of Skule and Hacon are only given in outline. In the +part describing Hacon's childhood among the veterans of the Old Guard +(Sverre's men, the "ancient Birchlegs"), and in a few other places, +there is a lapse into the proper Icelandic manner. Elsewhere, and in +the more important parts of the history especially, it would seem as +if the author had gone out of his way to find a sober and colourless +pattern of work, instead of the full and vivid sort of story that came +natural to him.</p> + +<p>After Sturla, and after the fall of the Commonwealth of Iceland, +although there were still some interesting biographies to be +written—the <i>Life of Bishop Arne</i>, the <i>Life of Bishop Laurence</i>—it +may be reckoned that the heroic strain is exhausted. After that, it is +a new world for Iceland, or rather it is the common medieval world, +and not the peculiar Icelandic version of an heroic age. After the +fourteenth century the historical schools die out into meagre annals; +and even the glorious figure of Jón Arason, and the tragic end of the +Catholic bishop, the poet, the ruler, who along with his sons was +beheaded in the interests of the Reformed Religion and its adherents, +must go without the honours that were freely paid in the thirteenth +century to bishops and lords no more heroic, no more vehement and +self-willed. The history of Jón Arason has to be made out and put +together from documents; his Saga was left unwritten, though the facts +of his life and death may seem to prove that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> old spirit lived +long after the failure of the old literature.</p> + +<p>The thirteenth century, the century of Snorri Sturluson and of Sturla +his nephew, is also the age of Villehardouin and Joinville. That is to +say, the finished historical work of the Icelandic School is +contemporary with the splendid improvisations and first essays of +French historical prose. The fates of the two languages are an +instance of "the way that things are shared" in this world, and may +raise some grudges against the dispensing fortune that has ordered the +<i>Life of St. Louis</i> to be praised, not beyond its deserts, by century +after century, while the Northern masterpieces are left pretty much to +their own island and to the antiquarian students of the Northern +tongues. This, however, is a consideration which does not touch the +merits of either side. It is part of the fate of Icelandic literature +that it should not be influential in the great world, that it should +fall out of time, and be neglected, in the march of the great nations. +It is in this seclusion that its perfection is acquired, and there is +nothing to complain of.</p> + +<p>A comparison of the two contemporaries, Sturla and Joinville, brings +out the difference between two admirable varieties of history, dealing +with like subjects. The scenery of the <i>Life of St. Louis</i> is +different from that of <i>Sturlunga</i>, but there is some resemblance in +parts of their themes, in so far as both narrate the adventures of +brave men in difficult places, and both are told by authors who were +on the spot themselves, and saw with their own eyes, or heard directly +from those who had seen. As a subject for literature there is not much +to choose between St. Louis in Egypt in 1250 and the burning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> of +Flugumyri three years later, though the one adventure had all the eyes +of the world upon it, and the other was of no more practical interest +to the world than floods or landslips or the grinding of rocks and +stones in an undiscovered valley. Nor is there much to choose between +the results of the two methods; neither Sturla nor Joinville has +anything to fear from a comparison between them.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, in details, there is a very close approximation of the +French and the Icelandic methods. Joinville's story, for example, of +the moonlight adventure of the clerk of Paris and the three robbers +might go straight into Icelandic. Only, the seneschal's opening of the +story is too personal, and does not agree with the Icelandic manner of +telling a story:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>As I went along I met with a wagon carrying three dead men +that a clerk had slain, and I was told they were being +brought for the king to see. When I heard this I sent my +squire after them, to know how it had fallen out.</p></div> + +<p>The difference between the two kinds is that Joinville, being mainly +experimental and without much regard for the older precedents and +models of historical writing, tells his story in his own way, as +memoirs, in the order of events as they come within his view, +revealing his own sentiments and policy, and keeping a distinction +between the things he himself saw and the things he did not see. +Whereas Sturla goes on the lines that had been laid down before him, +and does not require to invent his own narrative scheme; and further, +the scheme he receives from his masters is the opposite of Joinville's +personal memories. Though Sturla in great part of his work is as near +the reality as Joinville, he is obliged by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> the Icelandic custom to +keep himself out of the story, except when he is necessary; and then +he only appears in the third person on the same terms as the other +actors, with nothing except perhaps a greater particularity in +description to show that the author is there himself in the thick of +it. To let the story take care of itself is the first rule of the +Icelandic authors. If they have any emotion or sentiment of their own, +it must go into the story impersonally; it must inform or enliven the +characters and their speeches; it must quicken the style +unobtrusively, or else it must be suppressed. The parts of the Sagas +that are most touching, such as the death of Njal, and the parting of +Grettir and his mother, though they give evidence of the author's +sensibility, never allow him a word for himself. The method is the +method of Homer—<span title="Greek: dolôi d' ho ge dakrya keuthen">δολωι δ' ο γε δακρυα κευθεν</span>—"he would not +confess that he wept."</p> + +<p>In Joinville, on the contrary, all the epic matter of the story is +surveyed and represented not as a drama for any one to come and look +at, and make his own judgment about it, but as the life of himself, +the Sire de Joinville, Seneschal of Champagne, known and interpreted +to himself first of all. It is barely possible to conceive the <i>Life +of St. Louis</i> transposed into the mood of the <i>Odyssey</i> or of <i>Njála</i>. +It is hard to see who would be a gainer thereby—certainly not St. +Louis himself. He would be deprived, for instance, of what is at once +the most heroic and the most trifling of all the passages in his +story, which belongs altogether to Joinville, and is worth nothing +except as he tells it, and because he tells it. The story of +Joinville's misunderstanding of the king, and the king's way of taking +it, on occasion of the Council at Acre and the question whether to +return or to stay and recover the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> prisoners from the Saracens, is not +only the whole <i>Life of St. Louis</i> summed up and put into one chapter, +but it is also one of those rarest passages of true history in which a +character whom we thought we knew is presented with all his qualities +intensified in a momentary act or speech. It is as if the dulness of +custom were magically broken, and the familiar character stood out, +not different from himself, but with a new expression. In this great +scene the Barons were for returning home, and put forward Guy +Malvoisin their foreman to state their opinion. Joinville took the +other side, remembering the warning of a kinsman of his own not to +return in a hurry and forget the Lord's poor servants (<i>le peuple menu +Nostre Signour</i>). There was no one there but had friends in prison +among the Saracens, "so they did not rebuke me," says Joinville; but +only two ventured to speak on his side, and one of these was shouted +at (<i>mout felonessement</i>) by his uncle, the good knight Sir Jehan de +Beaumont, for so doing. The king adjourned the Council for a week. +What follows is a kind of narrative impossible under the Homeric or +the Icelandic conditions—no impersonal story, but a record of +Joinville's own changes of mind as he was played upon by the mind of +the king; an heroic incident, but represented in a way quite different +from any epic manner. Joinville describes the breaking up of the +Council, and how he was baited by them all: "The king is a fool, Sire +de Joinville, if he does not take your advice against all the council +of the realm of France"; how he sat beside the king at dinner, but the +king did not speak to him; how he, Joinville, thought the king was +displeased; and how he got up when the king was hearing grace, and +went to a window in a recess and stuck his arms out through the bars, +and leant there gazing out and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> brooding over the whole matter, making +up his mind to stay, whatever happened to all the rest; till some one +came behind him and put his hands on his head at the window and held +him there, and Joinville thought it was one of the other side +beginning to bother him again (<i>et je cuidai que ce fust mes sires +Phelippes d'Anemos, qui trop d'ennui m'avoit fait le jour pour le +consoil que je li avoie donnei</i>), till as he was trying to get free he +saw, by a ring on the hand, that it was the king. Then the king asked +him how it was that he, a young man, had been bold enough to set his +opinion against all the wisdom of France; and before their talk ended, +let him see that he was of the same mind as Joinville.</p> + +<p>This personal kind of story, in which an heroic scene is rendered +through its effect on one particular mind, is quite contrary to the +principles of the Icelandic history, except that both kinds are +heroic, and both are alive.</p> + +<p>Joinville gives the succession of his own emotions; the Icelandic +narrators give the succession of events, either as they might appear +to an impartial spectator, or (on occasion) as they are viewed by some +one in the story, but never as they merely affect the writer himself, +though he may be as important a personage as Sturla was in the events +of which he wrote the Chronicle. The subject-matter of the Icelandic +historian (whether his own experience or not) is displayed as +something in which he is not more nearly concerned than other people; +his business is to render the successive moments of the history so +that any one may form a judgment about them such as he might have +formed if he had been there. Joinville, while giving his own changes +of mind very clearly, is not as careful as the Icelandic writers are +about the proper order of events. Thus an Icelander<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> would not have +written, as Joinville does, "the king came and put his hands on my +head"; he would have said, "John found that his head was being held"; +and the discovery by means of the ring would have been the first +direct intimation who it was. The story as told by Joinville, though +it is so much more intimate than any of the Sagas, is not as true to +the natural order of impressions. He follows out his own train of +sentiment; he is less careful of the order of perception, which the +Icelanders generally observe, and sometimes with extraordinary effect.</p> + +<p>Joinville's history is not one of a class, and there is nothing equal +to it; but some of the qualities of his history are characteristic of +the second medieval period, the age of romance. His prose, as compared +with that of Iceland, is unstudied and simple, an apparently +unreserved confession. The Icelandic prose, with its richness of +contents and its capability of different moods, is by comparison +resolute, secure, and impartial; its authors are among those who do +not give their own opinion about their stories. Joinville, for all his +exceptional genius in narrative, is yet like all the host of medieval +writers except the Icelandic school, in his readiness to give his +opinion, to improve the occasion, and to add to his plain story +something like the intonation of the preacher. Inimitable as he is, to +come from the Icelandic books to Joinville is to discover that he is +"medieval" in a sense that does not apply to those; that his work, +with all its sobriety and solidity, has also the incalculable and +elusive touch of fantasy, of exaltation, that seems to claim in a +special way the name of Romance.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><a name="III.VIII"></a>VIII</h3> + +<h3>THE NORTHERN PROSE ROMANCES</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> history of the Sturlungs is the last great work of the classical +age of Icelandic literature, and after it the end comes pretty +sharply, as far as masterpieces are concerned. There is, however, a +continuation of the old literature in a lower degree and in degenerate +forms, which if not intrinsically valuable, are yet significant, as +bringing out by exaggeration some of the features and qualities of the +older school, and also as showing in a peculiar way the encroachments +of new "romantic" ideas and formulas.</p> + +<p>One of the extant versions of the <i>Foster-brothers' Story</i> is +remarkable for its patches of euphuistic rhetoric, which often appear +suddenly in the course of plain, straightforward narrative. These +ornamental additions are not all of the same kind. Some of them are of +the alliterative antithetical kind which is frequently found in the +old Northern ecclesiastical prose,<a name="FNanchor_63_63" id="FNanchor_63_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> and which has an English +counterpart in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> alliterative prose of Ælfric. Others are more +unusual; they are borrowed not from the Latin ecclesiastical school of +prose, but from the terms of the Northern poetry, and their effect is +often very curious. For instance, on page 13 there is a sudden break +from the common, unemphatic narrative of a storm at sea ("they were +drenched through, and their clothes froze on them") into the +incongruous statement that "the daughters of Ran (the sea-goddess) +came and wooed them and offered them rest in their embraces,"—a +conceit which might possibly be mistaken by a modern reader for the +fancy of Hans Andersen, but which is really something quite different, +not "pathetic fallacy," but an irruption of metaphorical rhetoric from +the poetical dictionary. There is another metaphorical flare-up on the +next page, equally amazing, in its plain context:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>She gave orders to take their clothes and have them thawed. +After that they had supper and were shown to bed. They were +not long in falling asleep. Snow and frost held all the +night through; <i>all that night the Dog (devourer) of the +elder-tree howled with unwearying jaws and worried the earth +with grim fangs of cold</i>. And when it began to grow light +towards daybreak, a man got up to look out, and when he came +in Thorgeir asked what sort of weather it was outside;</p></div> + +<p>and so on in the ordinary sober way. It is not surprising that an +editor should have been found to touch up the plain text of a Saga +with a few ornamental phrases here and there. Considering the amount +of bad taste and false wit in the contemporary poetry, the wonder is +that there should be such a consistent exclusion of all such things +from the prose of the Sagas. The <i>Fóstbræðra</i> variations<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> show the +beginning of a process of decay, in which the lines of separation +between prose and poetry are cut through.</p> + +<p>Except, however, as an indication of a general decline of taste, these +diversions in <i>Fóstbræðra Saga</i> do not represent the later and +secondary schools of Icelandic narrative. They remain as exceptional +results of a common degeneracy of literature; the prevailing forms are +not exactly of this special kind. Instead of embroidering poetical +diction over the plain text of the old Sagas, the later authors +preferred to invent new stories of their own, and to use in them the +machinery and vocabulary of the old Sagas. Hence arose various orders +of romantic Saga, cut off from the original sources of vitality, and +imitating the old forms very much as a modern romanticist might +intimate them. One of the best, and one of the most famous, of these +romantic Sagas is the story of Frithiof the Bold, which was chosen by +Tegnér as the groundwork of his elegant romantic poem, a brilliant +example of one particular kind of modern medievalism. The significance +of Tegnér's choice is that he went for his story to the secondary +order of Sagas. The original <i>Frithiof</i> is almost as remote as Tegnér +himself from the true heroic tradition; and, like Tegnér's poem, makes +up for this want of a pedigree by a study and imitation of the great +manner, and by a selection and combination of heroic traits from the +older authentic literature. Hence Tegnér's work, an ingenious +rhetorical adaptation of all the old heroic motives, is already half +done for him by the earlier romanticist; the original prose Frithiof +is the same romantic hero as in the Swedish poem, and no more like the +men of the Icelandic histories than Raoul de Bragelonne is like +D'Artagnan. At the same time, it is easy to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> see how the authentic +histories have supplied materials for the romance; as has been shown +already, there are passages in the older Sagas that contain some +suggestions for the later kind of stories, and the fictitious hero is +put together out of reminiscences of Gunnar and Kjartan.</p> + +<p>The "romantic movement" in the old Northern literature was greatly +helped by foreign encouragement from the thirteenth century onward, +and particularly by a change of literary taste at the Court of Norway. +King Sverre at the end of the twelfth century quotes from the old +Volsung poem; he perhaps kept the Faroese memory for that kind of +poetry from the days of his youth in the islands. Hakon Hakonsson, two +generations later, had a different taste in literature and was fond of +French romances. It was in his day that the work of translation from +the French began; the results of which are still extant in +<i>Strengleikar</i> (the Lays of Marie de France), in <i>Karlamagnus Saga</i>, +in the Norwegian versions of Tristram, Perceval, Iwain, and other +books of chivalry.<a name="FNanchor_64_64" id="FNanchor_64_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> These cargoes of foreign romance found a ready +market in the North; first of all in Norway, but in Iceland also. They +came to Iceland just at the time when the native literature, or the +highest form of it at any rate, was failing; the failure of the native +literature let in these foreign competitors. The Norwegian +translations of French romances are not the chief agents in the +creation of the secondary Icelandic School, though they help. The +foreigners have contributed something to the story of Frithiof and the +story of Viglund.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> The phrase <i>náttúra amorsins</i> (= <i>natura amoris</i>) +in the latter work shows the intrusion even of the Romance vocabulary +here, as under similar conditions in Germany and England. But while +the old Northern literature in its decline is affected by the vogue of +French romance, it still retains some independence. It went to the bad +in its own way; and the later kinds of story in the old Northern +tongue are not wholly spurious and surreptitious. They have some claim +upon <i>Njála</i> and <i>Laxdæla</i>; there is a strain in them that +distinguishes them from the ordinary professional medieval romance in +French, English, or German.</p> + +<p>When the Icelandic prose began to fail, and the slighter forms of +Romance rose up in the place of Epic history, there were two modes in +which the older literature might be turned to profit. For one thing, +there was plenty of romantic stuff in the old heroic poetry, without +going to the French books. For another thing, the prose stories of the +old tradition had in them all kinds of romantic motives which were fit +to be used again. So there came into existence the highly-interesting +series of Mythical Romances on the themes of the old Northern mythical +and heroic poetry, and another series besides, which worked up in its +own way a number of themes and conventional motives from the older +prose books.</p> + +<p>Mythical sagas had their beginning in the classical age of the North. +Snorri, with his stories of the adventures of the gods, is the leader +in the work of getting pure romance, for pure amusement, out of what +once was religious or heroic myth, mythological or heroic poetry. Even +Ari the Wise, his great predecessor, had done something of the same +sort, if the <i>Ynglinga Saga</i> be his, an historical abstract of +Northern mythical history; though his aim, like that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> of Saxo +Grammaticus, is more purely scientific than is the case with Snorri. +The later mythical romances are of different kinds. The <i>Volsunga +Saga</i> is the best known on account of its subject. The story of +Heidrek, instead of paraphrasing throughout like the Volsung book, +inserts the poems of Hervor and Angantyr, and of their descendants, in +a consecutive prose narrative. <i>Halfs Saga</i> follows the same method. +The story of <i>Hrolf Kraki</i>, full of interest from its connexion with +the matter of <i>Beowulf</i> and of Saxo Grammaticus, is more like +<i>Volsunga Saga</i> in its procedure.<a name="FNanchor_65_65" id="FNanchor_65_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a></p> + +<p>The other class<a name="FNanchor_66_66" id="FNanchor_66_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a> contains the Sagas of <i>Frithiof</i> and <i>Viglund</i>, +and all the fictitious stories which copy the style of the proper +Icelandic Sagas. Their matter is taken from the adventures of the +heroic age; their personages are idealised romantic heroes; romantic +formulas, without substance.</p> + +<p>Among the original Sagas there are some that show the beginning of the +process by which the substance was eliminated, and the romantic +<i>eidolon</i> left to walk about by itself. The introductions of many of +the older Sagas, of <i>Gisli</i> and <i>Grettir</i> for example, giving the +adventures of the hero's ancestors, are made up in this way; and the +best Sagas have many conventional passages—Viking exploits, +discomfiture of berserkers, etc.—which the reader learns to take for +granted, like the tournaments in the French books, and which have no +more effect than simple adjectives to say that the hero is brave or +strong. Besides these stock incidents, there are ethical passages (as +has already been seen) in which the hero is in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> some danger of turning +into a figure of romance. Grettir, Gisli, Kjartan, Gunnlaug the +Wormtongue, Gunnar of Lithend, are all in some degree and at some +point or other in danger of romantic exaggeration, while Kari has to +thank his humorous squire, more than anything in himself, for his +preservation. Also in the original Sagas there are conventions of the +main plot, as well as of the episodes, such as are repeated with more +deliberation and less skill in the romantic Sagas.</p> + +<p>The love-adventures of Viglund are like those of Frithiof, and they +have a common likeness, except in their conclusion, to the adventures +of Kormak and Steingerd in <i>Kormaks Saga</i>. Kormak was too rude and +natural for romance, and the romancers had to make their heroes +better-looking, and to provide a happy ending. But the story of the +poet's unfortunate love had become a commonplace.</p> + +<p>The plot of <i>Laxdæla</i>, the story of the <i>Lovers of Gudrun</i>, which is +the Volsung story born again, became a commonplace of the same sort. +It certainly had a good right to the favour it received. The plot of +<i>Laxdæla</i> is repeated in the story of Gunnlaug and Helga, even to a +repetition of the course of events by which Kjartan is defrauded. The +true lover is left in Norway and comes back too late; the second +lover, the dull, persistent man, contrasted with a more brilliant but +less single-minded hero, keeps to his wooing and spreads false +reports, and wins his bride without her goodwill. Compared with the +story of Kjartan and Gudrun, the story of Gunnlaug and Helga is +shallow and sentimental; the likeness to <i>Frithiof</i> is considerable.</p> + +<p>The device of a false report, in order to carry off the bride of a man +absent in Norway, is used again in the story of <i>Thorstein the White</i>, +where the result<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> is more summary and more in accordance with poetical +justice than in <i>Laxdæla</i> or <i>Gunnlaug</i>. This is one of the best of +the Icelandic short stories, firmly drawn, with plenty of life and +variety in it. It is only in its use of what seems like a stock device +for producing agony that it resembles the more pretentious romantic +Sagas.</p> + +<p>Another short story of the same class and the same family tradition +(Vopnafjord), the story of <i>Thorstein Staffsmitten</i>, looks like a +clever working-up of a stock theme—the quiet man roused.<a name="FNanchor_67_67" id="FNanchor_67_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> The +combat in it is less like the ordinary Icelandic fighting than the +combats in the French poems, more especially that of Roland and Oliver +in <i>Girart de Viane</i>; and on the whole there is no particular reason, +except its use of well-known East-country names, to reckon this among +the family histories rather than the romances.</p> + +<p>Romantic Sagas of different kinds have been composed in Iceland, +century after century, in a more or less mechanical way, by the +repetition of old adventures, situations, phrases, characters, or +pretences of character. What the worst of them are like may be seen by +a reference to Mr. Ward's Catalogue of MS. Romances in the British +Museum, which contains a number of specimens. There is fortunately no +need to say anything more of them here. They are among the dreariest +things ever made by human fancy. But the first and freshest of the +romantic Sagas have still some reason in them and some beauty; they +are at least the reflection of something living, either of the romance +of the old mythology, or of the romantic grace by which the epic +strength of <i>Njal</i> and <i>Gisli</i> is accompanied.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p> + +<p>There are some other romantic transformations of the old heroic +matters to be noticed, before turning away from the Northern world and +its "twilight of the gods" to the countries in which the course of +modern literature first began to define itself as something distinct +from the older unsuccessful fashions, Teutonic or Celtic.</p> + +<p>The fictitious Sagas were not the most popular kind of literature in +Iceland in the later Middle Ages. The successors of the old Sagas, as +far as popularity goes, are to be found in the <i>Rímur</i>, narrative +poems, of any length, in rhyming verse; not the ballad measures of +Denmark, nor the short couplets of the French School such as were used +in Denmark and Sweden, in England, and in High and Low Germany, but +rhyming verse derived from the medieval Latin rhymes of the type best +known from the works of Bishop Golias.<a name="FNanchor_68_68" id="FNanchor_68_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a> This rhyming poetry was +very industrious, and turned out all kinds of stories; the native +Sagas went through the mill in company with the more popular romances +of chivalry.</p> + +<p>They were transformed also in another way. The Icelandic Sagas went +along with other books to feed the imagination of the ballad-singers +of the Faroes. Those islands, where the singing of ballads has always +had a larger share of importance among the literary and intellectual +tastes of the people than anywhere else in the world, have relied +comparatively little on their own traditions or inventions for their +ballad themes. Natural and popular as it is, the ballad poetry of the +Faroes is derived from Icelandic literary traditions. Even Sigmund +Brestisson, the hero of the islands, might have been forgotten but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> +for the <i>Færeyinga Saga</i>; and Icelandic books, possibly near relations +of <i>Codex Regius</i>, have provided the islanders with what they sing of +the exploits of Sigurd and his horse Grani, as other writings brought +them the story of Roncesvalles. From Iceland also there passed to the +Faroes, along with the older legends, the stories of Gunnar and of +Kjartan; they have been turned into ballad measures, together with +<i>Roland</i> and <i>Tristram</i>, in that refuge of the old songs of the +world.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h1>THE OLD FRENCH EPIC</h1> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> + +<h3>THE OLD FRENCH EPIC</h3> + +<h4>(<i>Chansons de Geste</i>)</h4> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> appears to be generally the case in all old epic literature, and it +is not surprising, that the existing specimens come from the end of +the period of its greatest excellence, and generally represent the +epic fashion, not quite at its freshest and best, but after it has +passed its culmination, and is already on the verge of decline. This +condition of things is exemplified in <i>Beowulf</i>; and the Sagas also, +here and there, show signs of over-refinement and exhaustion. In the +extant mass of old French epic this condition is enormously +exaggerated. The <i>Song of Roland</i> itself, even in its earliest extant +form, is comparatively late and unoriginal; while the remainder of +French epic poetry, in all its variety, is much less authentic than +<i>Roland</i>, sensibly later, and getting rapidly and luxuriantly worse +through all the stages of lethargy.</p> + +<p>It is the misfortune of French epic that so much should have been +preserved of its "dotages," so little of the same date and order as +the <i>Song of Roland</i>, and nothing at all of the still earlier +epic—the more original <i>Roland</i> of a previous generation. The +exuberance, however, of the later stages of French epic, and its long +persistence in living beyond its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> due time, are proof of a certain +kind of vitality. The French epic in the twelfth century, long after +its best days were over, came into the keenest and closest rivalry +with the younger romantic schools in their first vigour. Fortune has +to some extent made up for the loss of the older French poems by the +preservation of endless later versions belonging in date to the +exciting times of the great romantic revolution in literature. Feeble +and drowsy as they often are, the late-born hosts of the French epic +are nevertheless in the thick of a great European contest, matched not +dishonourably against the forces of Romance. They were not the +strongest possible champions of the heroic age, but they were <i>there</i>, +in the field, and in view of all spectators. At this distance of time, +we can see how much more fully the drift of the old Teutonic world was +caught and rendered by the imagination of Iceland; how much more there +is in Grettir or Skarphedinn than in Ogier the Dane, or Raoul de +Cambrai, or even Roland and Oliver. But the Icelandic work lay outside +of the consciousness of Europe, and the French epic was known +everywhere. There are no such masterpieces in the French epic as in +the Icelandic prose. The French epic, to make up for that, has an +exciting history; it lived by antagonism, and one may look on and see +how the <i>chansons de geste</i> were fighting for their life against the +newer forms of narrative poetry. In all this there is the interest of +watching one of the main currents of history, for it was nothing less +than the whole future imaginative life of Europe that was involved in +the debate between the stubborn old epic fashion and the new romantic +adventurers.</p> + +<p>The <i>chansons de geste</i> stand in a real, positive, ancestral relation +to all modern literature; there is something of them in all the poetry +of Europe. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> Icelandic histories can make no such claim. Their +relation to modern life is slighter, in one sense; more spiritual, in +another. They are not widely known, they have had no share in +establishing the forms or giving vogue to the commonplaces of modern +literature. Now that they are published and accessible to modern +readers, their immediate and present worth, for the friends of +Skarphedinn and Gunnar, is out of all proportion to their past +historical influence. They have anticipated some of the literary +methods which hardly became the common property of Europe till the +nineteenth century; even now, when all the world reads and writes +prose stories, their virtue is unexhausted and unimpaired. But this +spiritual affinity with modern imaginations and conversations, across +the interval of medieval romance and rhetoric, is not due to any +direct or overt relation. The Sagas have had no influence; that is the +plain historical fact about them.</p> + +<p>The historical influence and importance of the <i>chansons de geste</i>, on +the other hand, is equally plain and evident. Partly by their +opposition to the new modes of fiction, and partly by compliance with +their adversaries, they belong to the history of those great schools +of literature in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries from which all +modern imaginations in prose and rhyme are descended. The "dolorous +rout" of Roncesvalles, and not the tragedy of the Niblungs, still less +the history of Gunnar or of Njal, is the heroic origin of modern +poetry; it is remembered and renowned, <span title="Greek: pasi melousa">πασι μελουσα</span>, among +the poets who have given shape to modern imaginative literature, while +the older heroics of the Teutonic migration are forgotten, and the +things of Iceland are utterly unknown.</p> + +<p>French epic has some great advantages in comparison with the epic +experiments of Teutonic verse.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> For one thing, it exists in great +quantity; there is no want of specimens, though they are not all of +the best sort or the best period. Further, it has no difficulty, only +too much ease, in keeping a long regular course of narrative. Even +<i>Beowulf</i> appears to have attained to its epic proportions by a +succession of efforts, and with difficulty; it labours rather heavily +over the longer epic course. <i>Maldon</i> is a poem that runs freely, but +here the course is shorter, and it carries much less weight. The +Northern poems of the "Elder Edda" never attain the right epic scale +at all; their abrupt and lyrical manner is the opposite of the epic +mode of narration. It is true that the <i>chansons de geste</i> are far +from the perfect continuity of the Homeric narrative. <i>Roland</i> is +described by M. Gaston Paris in terms not unlike those that are +applied by Ten Brink in his criticism of <i>Beowulf</i>:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"On peut dire que la <i>Chanson de Roland</i> (ainsi que toutes +nos plus anciennes chansons de geste) se développe non pas, +comme les poèmes homériques, par un courant large et +ininterrompu, non pas, comme le <i>Nibelungenlied</i>, par des +battements d'ailes égaux et lents, mais par un suite +d'explosions successives, toujours arrêtées court et +toujours reprenant avec soudaineté" (<i>Litt. fr. au moyen +âge</i>, p. 59).</p></div> + +<p><i>Roland</i> is a succession of separate scenes, with no gradation or +transition between them. It still bears traces of the lyrical origins +of epic. But the narrative, though broken, is neither stinted nor +laboured; it does not, like <i>Beowulf</i>, give the impression that it has +been expanded beyond the convenient limits, and that the author is +scant of breath. And none of the later <i>chansons de geste</i> are so +restricted and reserved in their design as <i>Roland</i>; most of them are +diffuse and long. The French and the Teutonic epics are at opposite +extremes of style.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p> + +<p>The French epics are addressed to the largest conceivable +audience.<a name="FNanchor_69_69" id="FNanchor_69_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> They are plain and simple, as different as possible from +the allusive brevity of the Northern poems. Even the plainest of the +old English poems, even <i>Maldon</i>, has to employ the poetical diction, +the unprosaic terms and figures of the Teutonic School. The +alliterative poetry down to its last days has a vocabulary different +from that of prose, and much richer. The French epic language is not +distinguished and made difficult in this way; it is "not prismatic but +diaphanous." Those who could understand anything could understand it, +and the <i>chansons de geste</i> easily found currency in the market-place, +when they were driven by the new romances from their old place of +honour in "bower and hall." The Teutonic poetry, even at its simplest, +must have required more attention in its hearers than the French, +through the strangeness and the greater variety of its vocabulary. It +is less familiar, less popular. Whatever dignity may be acquired by +the French epic is not due to any special or elaborate convention of +phrase. Where it is weak, its poverty is not disguised, as in the +weaker portions of Teutonic poetry, by the ornaments and synonyms of +the <i>Gradus</i>. The commonplaces of French epic are not imposing.<a name="FNanchor_70_70" id="FNanchor_70_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> +With this difference between the French and the Teutonic conventions, +there is all the more interest in a comparison of the two kinds, where +they come into comparison through any resemblance of their subjects or +their thought, as in <i>Byrhtnoth</i> and <i>Roland</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p><p>The French epics have generally a larger political field, more +numerous armies, and more magnificent kings, than the Teutonic. In the +same degree, their heroism is different from that of the earlier +heroic age. The general motives of patriotism and religion, France and +Christendom, prevent the free use of the simpler and older motives of +individual heroism. The hero of the older sort is still there, but his +game is hindered by the larger and more complex political conditions +of France; or if these are evaded, still the mere size of the country +and numbers of the fighting-men tell against his importance; he is +dwarfed by his surroundings. The limitation of the scenes in the poems +of <i>Beowulf</i>, <i>Ermanaric</i>, and <i>Attila</i> throws out the figures in +strong relief. The mere extent of the stage and the number of the +supernumeraries required for the action of most of the French stories +appear to have told against the definiteness of their characters; as, +on the other hand, the personages in <i>Beowulf</i>, without much +individual character of their own, seem to gain in precision and +strength from the smallness of the scene in which they act. There is +less strict economy in the <i>chansons de geste</i>.</p> + +<p>Apart from this, there is real and essential vagueness in their +characters; their drama is rudimentary. The simplicity of the French +epic style, which is addressed to a large audience and easily +intelligible, is not capable of much dramatic subtlety. It can be made +to express a variety of actions and a variety of moods, but these are +generally rendered by means of common formulas, without much dramatic +insight or intention. While the fragments of Teutonic epic seem to +give evidence of a growing dramatic imagination, and the Northern +poems, especially, of a series of experiments in character, the French +epic imagination appears to have remained content with its +established<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> and abstract formulas for different modes of sentiment +and passion. It would not be easy to find anything in French epic that +gives the same impression of discovery and innovation, of the search +for dramatic form, of the absorption of the poet's mind in the pursuit +of an imaginary character, as is given, again and again, by the +Northern poems of the Volsung cycle. Yet the <i>chansons de geste</i> are +often true and effective in their outlines of character, and include a +quantity of "humours and observation," though their authors seem to +have been unable to give solidity to their sketches.</p> + +<p>The weakness of the drama in the French epics, even more than their +compliance with foreign romance in the choice of incidents or +machinery, is against their claim to be reckoned in the higher order +of heroic narrative. They are romantic by the comparative levity of +their imagination; the story, with them, is too much for the +personages. But it is still the problem of heroic character that +engages them, however feebly or conventionally they may deal with it. +They rely, like the Teutonic epic and the Sagas, on situations that +test the force of character, and they find those situations in the +common conditions of an heroic age, subject of course to the +modifications of the comparatively late period and late form of +society to which they belong. <i>Roland</i> is a variation on the one +perpetual heroic theme; it has a grander setting, a grander +accompaniment, than <i>Byrhtnoth</i> or <i>Waldere</i>, but it is essentially +the old story of the heroic age,—no knight-errantry, but the last +resistance of a man driven into a corner.</p> + +<p>The greatness of the poem of <i>Roland</i> is that of an author who knows +his own mind, who has a certain mood of the heroic imagination to +express, and is at no loss for his instrument or for the lines of his +work.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> + +<p>The poem, as has been already noted, has a general likeness in its +plan to the story of Finnesburh as told in <i>Beowulf</i>, and to the poems +of the death of Attila. The plot falls into two parts, the second part +being the vengeance and expiation.</p> + +<p>Although the story is thus not absolutely simple, like the adventures +of Beowulf, no epic has a more magnificent simplicity of effect. The +other personages, Charlemagne, Ganelon, Oliver, King Marsile, have to +Roland nothing like the importance of Agamemnon, Ajax, Diomede, or +Hector, as compared with Achilles in the <i>Iliad</i>. The poem is almost +wholly devoted to the praise and glorification of a single hero; it +retains very much of the old manners of the earlier stages of epic +poetry, before it ceased to be lyric. It is a poem in honour of a +chieftain.</p> + +<p>At the same time, this lyrical tone in <i>Roland</i> and this pathetic +concentration of the interest on one personage do not interfere with +the epic plan of the narrative, or disturb the lines of the +composition. The central part of the poem is on the Homeric scale; the +fighting, the separate combats, are rendered in an Homeric way. +<i>Byrhtnoth</i> and <i>Roland</i> are the works that have given the best +medieval counterpart to the battles of Homer. There is more of a +crisis and a climax in <i>Roland</i> than in the several battles of the +<i>Iliad</i>, and a different sort of climax from that of <i>Byrhtnoth</i>. +Everything leads to the agony and heroic death of Roland, and to his +glory as the unyielding champion of France and Christendom. It is not +as in the <i>Iliad</i>, where different heroes have their day, or as at +Maldon, where the fall of the captain leads to the more desperate +defence and the more exalted heroism of his companions. Roland is the +absolute master of the <i>Song of Roland</i>. No other heroic poetry +conveys the same effect of pre-eminent sim<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>plicity and grandeur. There +is hardly anything in the poem except the single mood; its simplicity +is overpowering, a type of heroic resistance for all the later poets +of Europe. This impressive effect is aided, it is true, by an infusion +of the lyrical tone and by playing on the pathetic emotions. Roland is +ideal and universal, and the story of his defeat, of the blast of his +horn, and the last stroke of Durendal, is a kind of funeral march or +"heroic symphony" into which a meaning may be read for every new hero, +to the end of the world; for any one in any age whose <i>Mood is the +more as the Might lessens</i>. Yet although Roland has this universal or +symbolical or musical meaning—unlike the more individual personages +in the Sagas, who would resent being made into allegories—the total +effect is mainly due to legitimate epic means. There is no stinting of +the epic proportions or suppression of the epic devices. The <i>Song of +Roland</i> is narrative poetry, a model of narrative design, with the +proper epic spaces well proportioned, well considered, and filled with +action. It may be contrasted with the <i>Death-Song of Ragnar Lodbrok</i>, +which is an attempt to get the same sort of moral effect by a process +of lyrical distillation from heroic poetry; putting all the strongest +heroic motives into the most intense and emphatic form. There is +something lyrical in <i>Roland</i>, but the poem is not governed by lyrical +principles; it requires the deliberation and the freedom of epic; it +must have room to move in before it can come up to the height of its +argument. The abruptness of its periods is not really an interruption +of its even flight; it is an abruptness of detail, like a broken sea +with a larger wave moving under it; it does not impair or disguise the +grandeur of the movement as a whole.</p> + +<p>There are other poems among the <i>chansons de</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> <i>geste</i> which admit of +comparison with <i>Roland</i>, though <i>Roland</i> is supreme; other epics in +which the simple motives of heroism and loyalty are treated in a +simple and noble way, without any very strong individual character +among the personages. Of these rather abstract expositions of the +heroic ideal, some of the finest are to be found in the cycle of +William of Orange, more especially in the poems relating the exploits +of William and his nephew Vivian, and the death of Vivian in the +battle against the Moors—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +En icel jor que la dolor fu grans<br /> +Et la bataille orible en Aliscans.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>Like <i>Roland</i>, the poem of <i>Aliscans</i> is rather lyrical in its effect, +reiterating and reinforcing the heroic motives, making an impression +by repetition of one and the same mood; a poem of the glorification of +France. It shows, at the same time, how this motive might be degraded +by exaggeration and amplification. There are too many Moors in it (as +also in <i>Roland</i>), and the sequel is reckless and extravagant, where +William of Orange rides to the king's court for help and discovers an +ally in the enormous scullion of the king's kitchen, Rainouart, the +Morgante of French epic. Rainouart, along with William of Orange, was +seen by Dante in Paradise. In his gigantic and discourteous way he was +one of the champions of Christendom, and his manners are interesting +as a variation from the conventional heroic standards. But he takes up +too much room; he was not invented by the wide and comprehensive epic +imagination which finds a place for many varieties of mankind in its +story, but by some one who felt that the old epic forms were growing +thin and unsatisfactory, and that there was need of some violent +diversion to keep the audiences awake. This new<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> device is not +abandoned till Rainouart has been sent to Avalon—the epic form and +spirit losing themselves in a misappropriation of Romance. These +excursions are of course not to be ascribed to the central authors of +the cycle of William of Orange; but already even in the most heroic +parts of the cycle there are indications of the flagging imagination, +the failure of the old motives, which gave an opening to these wild +auxiliary forces. Where the epic came to trust too much to the mere +heroic sentiment, to the moral of <i>Roland</i>, to the contrast of knight +and infidel, there was nothing for it but either to have recourse to +the formal heroics of Camoens or Tasso,—for which the time had not +yet come,—or to be dissolved altogether in a medley of adventures, +and to pass from its old station in the front of literature to those +audiences of the market-place that even now, in some parts of the +world, have a welcome for Charlemagne and his peers.<a name="FNanchor_71_71" id="FNanchor_71_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a></p> + +<p>Those of the French epics in which the motives of <i>Roland</i> are in some +form or other repeated, in which the defence of Christendom is the +burden, are rightly considered the best representatives of the whole +body. But there are others in which with less dignity of theme there +is more freedom, and in which an older epic type, more akin to the +Teutonic, nearer in many ways to the Icelandic Sagas, is preserved, +and for a long time maintains itself distinct from all the forms of +romance and the romantic schools. It is not in <i>Roland</i> or in +<i>Aliscans</i> that the epic interest in character is most pronounced and +most effective. Those among the <i>chansons de geste</i> which make least +of the adventures in comparison with the personages, which think more +of the tragic situation than of rapid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> changes of scene and incident, +are generally those which represent the feuds and quarrels between the +king and his vassals, or among the great houses themselves; the +anarchy, in fact, which belongs to an heroic age and passes from +experience into heroic literature. There is hardly any of the +<i>chansons de geste</i> in which this element of heroic anarchy is not to +be found in a greater or less degree. In <i>Roland</i>, for example, though +the main action is between the French and the Moors, it is jealousy +and rivalry that bring about the catastrophe, through the treason of +Ganelon. This sort of jealousy, which is subordinate in <i>Roland</i>, +forms the chief motive of some of the other epics. These depend for +their chief interest on the vicissitudes of family quarrels almost as +completely as the Sagas. These are the French counterparts of +<i>Eyrbyggja</i>, and of the stories of Glum or Gisli. In France, as in +Iceland, the effect of the story is produced as much by the energy of +the characters as by the interest of adventures. Only in the French +epic, while they play for larger stakes, the heroes are incomparably +less impressive. The imagination which represents them is different in +kind from the Icelandic, and puts up with a very indefinite and +general way of denoting character. Though the extant poems are late, +some of them have preserved a very elementary psychology and a very +simple sort of ethics, the artistic formulas and devices of a +rudimentary stage which has nothing to correspond to it in the extant +Icelandic prose.</p> + +<p><i>Raoul de Cambrai</i> in its existing form is a late poem; it has gone +through the process of translation from assonance into rhyme, and like +<i>Huon of Bordeaux</i>, though by a different method, it has been fitted +with a romantic continuation. But the first part of the poem +apparently keeps the lines of an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> older and more original version. The +story is not one of the later cyclic fabrications; it has an +historical basis and is derived from the genuine epic tradition of +that tenth-century school which unfortunately is only known through +its descendants and its influence. <i>Raoul de Cambrai</i>, though in an +altered verse and later style, may be taken as presenting an old story +still recognisable in most of its original features, especially in its +moral.</p> + +<p>Raoul de Cambrai, a child at his father's death, is deprived of his +inheritance. To make up for this he is promised, later, the first fief +that falls vacant, and asserts his claim in a way that brings him into +continual trouble,—a story with great opportunities for heroic +contrasts and complications. The situation is well chosen; it is +better than that of the story of Glum, which is rather like +it<a name="FNanchor_72_72" id="FNanchor_72_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a>—the right is not all on one side. Raoul has a just cause, but +cannot make it good; he is driven to be unjust in order to come by his +own. Violence and excess in a just cause will make a tragic history; +there is no fault to be found with the general scheme or principle in +this case. It is in the details that the barbarous simplicity of the +author comes out. For example, in the invasion of the lands on which +he has a claim, Raoul attacks and burns a nunnery, and in it the +mother of his best friend and former squire, Bernier. The injured man, +his friend, is represented as taking it all in a helpless dull +expostulatory way. The author has no language to express any +imaginative passion; he can only repeat, in a muffled professional +voice, that it was really a very painful and discreditable affair. The +violent passions here are those of the heroic age in its most +barbarous form; more sudden and uncontrolled even than the anger of +Achilles. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> with all their vehemence and violence there is no real +tragic force, and when the hero is killed by his friend, and the +friend is sorry afterwards, there is nothing but the mere formal and +abstract identity of the situation to recall to mind the tragedy of +Kjartan and Bolli.</p> + +<p><i>Garin le Loherain</i> is a story with a similar plot,—the estrangement +and enmity of old friends, "sworn companions." Though no earlier than +<i>Raoul de Cambrai</i>, though belonging in date to the flourishing period +of romance, it is a story of the older heroic age, and its contents +are epic. Its heroes are unsophisticated, and the incidents, +sentiments, and motives are primitive and not of the romantic school. +The story is much superior to <i>Raoul de Cambrai</i> in speed and +lightness; it does not drag at the critical moments; it has some +humour and some grace. Among other things, its gnomic passages +represent very fairly the dominant heroic ideas of courage and good +temper; it may be appealed to for the humanities of the <i>chansons de +geste</i>, expressed in a more fluent and less emphatic shape than +<i>Roland</i>. The characters are taken very lightly, but at least they are +not obtuse and awkward. If there is not much dramatic subtlety, there +is a recognition and appreciation of different aspects of the same +character. The story proceeds like an Icelandic Saga, through +different phases of a long family quarrel, springing from a +well-marked origin; foreshadowed and accompanied, as in many of the +Sagas, by the hereditary felonious character of the one party, which +yet is not blackened too much nor wholly unrelieved.</p> + +<p>As in many of the Icelandic stories, there is a stronger dramatic +interest in the adversary, the wrong side, than in the heroes. As with +Kari and Flosi in <i>Njála</i>, as with Kjartan and Bolli in <i>Laxdæla</i>, and +with Sigmund and Thrond of Gata in <i>Færeyinga</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> <i>Saga</i>, so in the story +of Garin it is Fromont the enemy whose case is followed with most +attention, because it is less simple than that of the heroes, Garin of +Lorraine and Begon his brother. The character of Fromont shows the +true observation, as well as the inadequate and sketchy handling, of +the French epic school. Fromont is in the wrong; all the trouble +follows from his original misconduct, when he refused to stand by +Garin in a war of defence against the Moors:—</p> + +<p style="text-align: center"> +Iluec comence li grans borroflemens.<br /> +</p> + +<p>But Fromont's demeanour afterwards is not that of a traitor and a +felon, such as his father was. He belongs to a felonious house; he is +the son of Hardré, one of the notorious traitors of French epic +tradition; but he is less than half-hearted in his own cause, always +lamentable, perplexed, and peevish, always trying to be just, and +always dragged further into iniquity by the mischief-makers among his +friends. This idea of a distracted character is worked out as well as +was possible for a poet of that school, in a passage of narrative +which represents more than one of the good qualities of French epic +poetry,—the story of the death of Begon, and the vengeance exacted +for him by his brother Garin. This episode shows how the French poets +could deal with matter like that of the Sagas. The story is well told, +fluently and clearly; it contains some fine expressions of heroic +sentiment, and a good fight, as well as the ineffectual sorrows and +good intentions of the anti-hero Fromont, with all the usual tissue of +violence which goes along with a feud in heroic narrative, when the +feud is regarded as something impersonal and fatal, outside the wishes +of the agents in it.</p> + +<p>It may be said here that although the story of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> Garin and of the feud +between the house of Lorraine and their enemies is long drawn out and +copious in details, it is not confused, but falls into a few definite +episodes of warfare, with intervals of truce and apparent +reconciliation. Of these separate acts in the tragedy, the <i>Death of +Begon</i> is the most complete in itself; the most varied, as well as the +most compact. The previous action is for a modern taste too much +occupied with the commonplaces of epic warfare, Homeric combats in the +field, such as need the heroic motives of Maldon or Roncesvalles to +make them interesting. In the story of the <i>Death of Begon</i> there is a +change of scene from the common epic battlefield; the incidents are +not taken from the common stock of battle-poetry, and the Homeric +supernumeraries are dismissed.</p> + +<p>This episode<a name="FNanchor_73_73" id="FNanchor_73_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a> begins after an interval in the feud, and tells how +Begon one day thought of his brother Garin whom he had not seen for +seven years and more (the business of the feud having been slack for +so long), and how he set out for the East country to pay his brother a +visit, with the chance of a big boar-hunt on the way. The opening +passage is a very complete and lively selection from the experience +and the sentiments of the heroic age; it represents the old heroic +temper and the heroic standard of value, with, at the same time, a +good deal of the gentler humanities.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>One day Begon was in his castle of Belin; at his side was +the Duchess Beatrice, and he kissed her on the mouth: he saw +his two sons coming through the hall (so the story runs). +The elder was named Gerin and the younger Hernaudin; the one +was twelve and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> other was ten years old, and with them +went six noble youths, running and leaping with one another, +playing and laughing and taking their sport.</p> + +<p>The Duke saw them and began to sigh, and his lady questioned +him:—</p> + +<p>"Ah, my Lord Duke, why do you ponder thus? Gold and silver +you have in your coffers; falcons on their perch, and furs +of the vair and the grey, and mules and palfreys; and well +have you trodden down your enemies: for six days' journey +round you have no neighbour so stout but he will come to +your levy."</p> + +<p>Said the Duke: "Madame, you have spoken true, save in one +thing. Riches are not in the vair and the grey, nor in +money, nor in mules and horses, but riches are in kinsmen +and friends: the heart of a man is worth all the gold in the +land. Do you not remember how I was assailed and beset at +our home-coming? and but for my friends how great had been +my shame that day! Pepin has set me in these marches where I +have none of my near friends save Rigaut and Hervi his +father; I have no brother but one, Garin the Lothering, and +full seven years are past and gone that I have not seen him, +and for that I am grieved and vexed and ill at ease. Now I +will set off to see my brother Garin, and the child Girbert +his son that I have never seen. Of the woods of Vicogne and +of St. Bertin I hear news that there is a boar there; I will +run him down, please the Lord, and will bring the head to +Garin, a wonder to look upon, for of its like never man +heard tell."</p></div> + +<p>Begon's combined motives are all alike honest, and his rhetoric is as +sound as that of Sarpedon or of Gunnar. Nor is there any reason to +suppose, any more than in the case of Byrhtnoth, that what is striking +in the poem is due to its comparative lateness, and to its +opportunities of borrowing from new discoveries in literature. If that +were so, then we might find similar things among the newer fashions +of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> the contemporary twelfth-century literature; but in fact one does +not find in the works of the romantic school the same kind of humanity +as in this scene. The melancholy of Begon at the thought of his +isolation—"Bare is back without brother behind it"—is an adaptation +of a common old heroic motive which is obscured by other more showy +ideas in the romances. The conditions of life are here essentially +those of the heroic age, an age which has no particular ideas of its +own, which lives merely on such ideas as are struck out in the +collision of lawless heavy bodies, in that heroic strife which is the +parent of all things, and, among the rest, of the ideas of loyalty, +fellowship, fair dealing, and so on. There is nothing romantic or +idealist in Begon; he is merely an honest country gentleman, rather +short of work.</p> + +<p>He continues in the same strain, after the duchess has tried to +dissuade him. She points out to him the risk he runs by going to hunt +on his enemy's marches,—</p> + +<p style="text-align: center"> +C'est en la marche Fromont le poësti,<br /> +</p> + +<p>—and tells him of her foreboding that he will never return alive. His +answer is like that of Hector to Polydamas:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Diex! dist il, dame, merveilles avez dit:<br /> +Ja mar croiroie sorciere ne devin;<br /> +Par aventure vient li biens el païs,<br /> +Je ne lairoie, por tot l'or que Diex fist,<br /> +Que je n'i voise, que talens m'en est prins.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>The hunting of the boar is as good as anything of its kind in history, +and it is impossible to read it without wishing that it had been +printed a few years earlier to be read by Sir Walter Scott. He would +have applauded as no one else can this story of the chase and of the +hunter separated from his com<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>panions in the forest. There is one line +especially in the lament for Begon after his death which is enough by +itself to prove the soundness of the French poet's judgment, and his +right to a welcome at Abbotsford: "This was a true man; his dogs loved +him":—</p> + +<p style="text-align: center"> +Gentis hons fu, moult l'amoient si chien.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Begon came by his death in the greenwood. The forester found him there +and reported him to Fromont's seneschal, who called out six of his men +to go and take the poacher; and along with them went Thibaut, +Fromont's nephew, an old rival of Begon. Begon set his back to an +aspen tree and killed four of the churls and beat off the rest, but +was killed himself at last with an arrow.</p> + +<p>The four dead men were brought home and Begon's horse was led away:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +En une estable menerent le destrier<br /> +Fronce et hennit et si grate des pies<br /> +Que nus de char ne li ouse aprochier.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>Begon was left lying where he fell and his three dogs came back to +him:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Seul ont Begon en la forest laissié:<br /> +Et jouste lui revindrent si trois chien,<br /> +Hulent et braient com fuissent enragié.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>This most spirited passage of action and adventure shows the poet at +his best; it is the sort of thing that he understands, and he carries +it through without a mistake. It is followed by an attempt at another +theme where something more is required of the author, and his success +is not so perfect. He is drawn into the field of tragic emotion. Here, +though his means are hardly sufficient for elaborate work, he sketches +well. The character of Fromont when the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> news of his opponent's death +is brought to him comes out as something of a different value from the +sheer barbarism of <i>Raoul de Cambrai</i>. The narrative is light and +wanting in depth, but there is no untruth and no dulness in the +conception, and the author's meaning is perfectly clear. Fromont is +different from the felons of his own household. Fromont is the +adversary, but he is a gentleman. Even when he knows no more of the +event than that a trespasser has been killed in the forest, he sends +his men to bring in the body;—</p> + +<p style="text-align: center"> +Frans hons de l'autre doient avoir pitié<br /> +</p> + +<p>—and when he sees who it is (<i>vif l'ot véu, mort le reconnut bien</i>) +he breaks out into strong language against the churls who have killed +the most courteous knight that ever bore arms. Mingled with this +sentiment is the thought of all the trouble to come from the revival +of the feud, but his vexation does not spring from mere self-interest. +Fromondin his son is also angry with Thibaut his cousin; Thibaut ought +to be flayed alive for his foul stroke. But while Fromondin is +thinking of the shame of the murder which will be laid to the account +of his father's house, Fromont's thought is more generous, a thought +of respect and regret for his enemy. The tragedy of the feud continues +after this; as before, Fromont is involved by his irrepressible +kinsmen, and nothing comes of his good thoughts and intentions.</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Our wills and fates do so contrary run,<br /> +Our thoughts are ours, the ends none of our own.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>This moral axiom is understood by the French author, and in an +imaginative, not a didactic way, though his imagination is not strong +enough to make much of it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p> + +<p>In this free, rapid, and unforced narrative, that nothing might be +wanting of the humanities of the French heroic poetry, there is added +the lament for Begon, by his brother and his wife. Garin's lament is +what the French epic can show in comparison with the famous lament for +Lancelot at the end of the <i>Mort d'Arthur</i>:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Ha! sire Begues, li Loherains a dit<br /> +Frans chevaliers, corajeus et hardis!<br /> +Fel et angris contre vos anemis<br /> +Et dols et simples a trestoz vos amis!<br /> +Tant mar i fustes, biaus frères, biaus amis!<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>Here the advantage is with the English romantic author, who has +command of a more subtle and various eloquence. On the other hand, the +scene of the grief of the Duchess Beatrice, when Begon is brought to +his own land, and his wife and his sons come out to meet him, shows a +different point of view from romance altogether, and a different +dramatic sense. The whole scene of the conversation between Beatrice +and Garin is written with a steady hand; it needs no commentary to +bring out the pathos or the dramatic truth of the consolation offered +by Garin.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>She falls fainting, she cannot help herself; and when she +awakens her lamenting is redoubled. She mourns over her +sons, Hernaudin and Gerin: "Children, you are orphans; dead +is he that begot you, dead is he that was your +stay!"—"Peace, madame," said Garin the Duke, "this is a +foolish speech and a craven. You, for the sake of the land +that is in your keeping, for your lineage and your lordly +friends—some gentle knight will take you to wife and +cherish you; but it falls to me to have long sorrow. The +more I have of silver and fine gold, the more will be my +grief and vexation of spirit. Hernaudin and Gerin are my +nephews; it will be mine to suffer many a war for them, to +watch late, and to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> rise up early."—"Thank you, uncle," +said Hernaudin: "Lord! why have I not a little habergeon of +my own? I would help you against your enemies!" The Duke +hears him, and takes him in his arms and kisses the child. +"By God, fair nephew, you are stout and brave, and like my +brother in face and mouth, the rich Duke, on whom God have +mercy!" When this was said, they go to bury the Duke in the +chapel beyond Belin; the pilgrims see it to this day, as +they come back from Galicia, from St. James.<a name="FNanchor_74_74" id="FNanchor_74_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a></p></div> + +<p><i>Roland</i>, <i>Raoul de Cambrai</i>, and <i>Garin le Loherain</i> represent three +kinds of French heroic poetry. <i>Roland</i> is the more purely heroic +kind, in which the interest is concentrated on the passion of the +hero, and the hero is glorified by every possible means of patriotism, +religion, and the traditional ethics of battle, with the scenery and +the accompaniments all chosen so as to bring him into relief and give +him an ideal or symbolical value, like that of the statues of the +gods. <i>Raoul</i> and <i>Garin</i>, contrasted with <i>Roland</i>, are two varieties +of another species; namely, of the heroic poetry which (like the +<i>Odyssey</i> and the Icelandic stories) represents the common life of an +heroic age, without employing the ideal motives of great causes, +religious or patriotic, and without giving to the personages<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> any +great representative or symbolical import. The subjects of <i>Raoul</i> and +<i>Garin</i> belong to the same order. The difference between them is that +the author of the first is only half awake to the chances offered by +his theme. The theme is well chosen, not disabled, like so many +romantic plots, by an inherent fallacy of ethics or imagination; a +story that shapes itself naturally, if the author has the wit to see +it. The author of <i>Raoul de Cambrai</i>, unhappily, has "no more wit than +a Christian or an ordinary man," and leaves his work encumbered with +his dulness of perception; an evidence of the fertility of the heroic +age in good subjects, and of the incompetence of some of the artists. +<i>Garin</i>, on the other hand, shows how the common subject-matter might +be worked up by a man of intelligence, rather discursive than +imaginative, but alive to the meaning of his story, and before +everything a continuous narrator, with the gift of natural sequence in +his adventures. He relates as if he were following the course of +events in his own memory, with simplicity and lucidity, qualities +which were not beyond the compass of the old French verse and diction. +He does not stop to elaborate his characters; he takes them perhaps +too easily. But his lightness of spirit saves him from the untruth of +<i>Raoul de Cambrai</i>; and while his ethics are the commonplaces of the +heroic age, these commonplaces are not mere formulas or cant; they are +vividly realised.</p> + +<p>There is no need to multiply examples in order to prove the capacity +of French epic for the same kind of subjects as those of the Sagas; +that is, for the representation of strenuous and unruly life in a +comprehensive and liberal narrative, noble in spirit and not much +hampered by conventional nobility or dignity.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Roland</i> is the great achievement of French epic, and there are other +poems, also, not far removed from the severity of <i>Roland</i> and +inspired by the same patriotic and religious ardour. But the poem of +<i>Garin of Lorraine</i> (which begins with the defence of France against +the infidels, but very soon passes to the business of the great +feud—its proper theme), though it is lacking in the political +motives, not to speak of the symbolical imagination of <i>Roland</i>, is +significant in another way, because though much later in date, though +written at a time when Romance was prevalent, it is both archaic in +its subject and also comprehensive in its treatment. It has something +like the freedom of movement and the ease which in the Icelandic Sagas +go along with similar antique subjects. The French epic poetry is not +all of it made sublime by the ideas of <i>Roland</i>; there is still scope +for the free representation of life in different moods, with character +as the dominant interest.</p> + +<p>It should not be forgotten that the French epic has room for comedy, +not merely in the shape of "comic relief," though that unhappily is +sometimes favoured by the <i>chansons de geste</i>, and by the romances as +well, but in the "humours" inseparable from all large and unpedantic +fiction.</p> + +<p>A good deal of credit on this account may be claimed for Galopin, the +reckless humorist of the party of Garin of Lorraine, and something +rather less for Rigaut the Villain Unwashed, another of Garin's +friends. This latter appears to be one of the same family as Hreidar +the Simple, in the Saga of Harald Hardrada; a figure of popular +comedy, one of the lubbers who turn out something different from their +promise. Clumsy strength and good-nature make one of the most +elementary compounds, and may<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> easily be misused (as in <i>Rainouart</i>) +where the author has few scruples and no dramatic consistency. Galopin +is a more singular humorist, a ribald and a prodigal, yet of gentle +birth, and capable of good service when he can be got away from the +tavern.</p> + +<p>There are several passages in the <i>chansons de geste</i> where, as with +<i>Rainouart</i>, the fun is of a grotesque and gigantic kind, like the fun +to be got out of the giants in the Northern mythology, and the trolls +in the Northern popular tales. The heathen champion Corsolt in the +<i>Coronemenz Looïs</i> makes good comedy of this sort, when he accosts the +Pope: "Little man! why is your head shaved?" and explains to him his +objection to the Pope's religion: "You are not well advised to talk to +me of God: he has done me more wrong than any other man in the world," +and so on.<a name="FNanchor_75_75" id="FNanchor_75_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a></p> + +<p>Also, in a less exaggerated way, there is some appreciation of the +humour to be found in the con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span>trast between the churl and the knight, +and their different points of view; as in the passage of the <i>Charroi +de Nismes</i> where William of Orange questions the countryman about the +condition of the city under its Saracen masters, and is answered with +information about the city tolls and the price of bread.<a name="FNanchor_76_76" id="FNanchor_76_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a> It must +be admitted, however, that this slight passage of comedy is far +outdone by the conversation in the romance of <i>Aucassin and +Nicolette</i>, between Aucassin and the countryman, where the author of +that story seems to get altogether beyond the conventions of his own +time into the region of Chaucer, or even somewhere near the forest of +Arden. The comedy of the <i>chansons de geste</i> is easily satisfied with +plain and robust practical jokes. Yet it counts for something in the +picture, and it might be possible, in a detailed criticism of the +epics, to distinguish between the comic incidents that have an +artistic value and intention, and those that are due merely to the +rudeness of those common minstrels who are accused (by their rivals in +epic poetry) of corrupting and debasing the texts.</p> + +<p>There were many ways in which the French epic was degraded at the +close of its course—by dilution<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> and expansion, by the growth of a +kind of dull parasitic, sapless language over the old stocks, by the +general failure of interest, and the transference of favour to other +kinds of literature. Reading came into fashion, and the minstrels lost +their welcome in the castles, and had to betake themselves to more +vulgar society for their livelihood. At the same time, epic made a +stand against the new modes and a partial compliance with them; and +the <i>chansons de geste</i> were not wholly left to the vagrant reciters, +but were sometimes copied out fair in handsome books, and held their +own with the romances.</p> + +<p>The compromise between epic and romance in old French literature is +most interesting where romance has invaded a story of the simpler kind +like <i>Raoul de Cambrai</i>. Stories of war against the infidel, stories +like those of William of Orange, were easily made romantic. The poem +of the <i>Prise d'Orange</i>, for example, an addition to this cycle, is a +pure romance of adventure, and a good one, though it has nothing of +the more solid epic in it. Where the action is carried on between the +knights of France and the Moors, one is prepared for a certain amount +of wonder; the palaces and dungeons of the Moors are the right places +for strange things to happen, and the epic of the defence of France +goes easily off into night excursions and disguises: the Moorish +princess also is there, to be won by the hero. All this is natural; +but it is rather more paradoxical to find the epic of family feuds, +originally sober, grave, and business-like, turning more and more +extravagant, as it does in the <i>Four Sons of Aymon</i>, which in its +original form, no doubt, was something like the more serious parts of +<i>Raoul de Cambrai</i> or of the <i>Lorrains</i>, but which in the extant +version is expanded and made wonderful, a story of wild adventures, +yet with traces<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> still of its origin among the realities of the heroic +age, the common matters of practical interest to heroes.</p> + +<p>The case of <i>Huon of Bordeaux</i> is more curious, for there the original +sober story has been preserved, and it is one of the best and most +coherent of them all,<a name="FNanchor_77_77" id="FNanchor_77_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> till it is suddenly changed by the sound of +Oberon's horn and passes out of the real world altogether.</p> + +<p>The lines of the earlier part of the story are worth following, for +there is no better story among the French poems that represent the +ruder heroic age—a simple story of feudal rivalries and jealousies, +surviving in this strange way as an introduction to the romance of +<i>Oberon</i>.</p> + +<p>The Emperor Charlemagne, one hundred and twenty-five years old, but +not particularly reverend, holds a court at Paris one Whitsuntide and +asks to be relieved of his kingdom. His son Charlot is to succeed him. +Charlot is worthless, the companion of traitors and disorderly +persons; he has made enough trouble already in embroiling Ogier the +Dane with the Emperor. Charlemagne is infatuated and will have his son +made king:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Si m'aït Diex, tu auras si franc fiet<br /> +Com Damediex qui tot puet justicier<br /> +Tient Paradis de regne droiturier!<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>Then the traitor Amaury de la Tor de Rivier gets up and brings forward +the case of Bordeaux, which has rendered no service for seven years, +since the two brothers, Huon and Gerard, were left orphans. Amaury +proposes that the orphans should be dispossessed. Charlemagne agrees +at once, and with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span>draws his assent again (a painful spectacle!) when +it is suggested to him that Huon and his brother have omitted their +duties in pure innocence, and that their father Sewin was always +loyal.</p> + +<p>Messengers are sent to bring Huon and Gerard to Paris, and every +chance is to be given them of proving their good faith to the Emperor.</p> + +<p>This is not what Amaury the traitor wants; he goes to Charlot and +proposes an ambuscade to lie in wait for the two boys and get rid of +them; his real purpose being to get rid of the king's son as well as +of Huon of Bordeaux.</p> + +<p>The two boys set out, and on the way fall in with the Abbot of Clugni, +their father's cousin, a strong-minded prelate, who accompanies them. +Outside Paris they come to the ambush, and the king's son is +despatched by Amaury to encounter them. What follows is an admirable +piece of narrative. Gerard rides up to address Charlot; Charlot rides +at him as he is turning back to report to Huon and the Abbot, and +Gerard who is unarmed falls severely wounded. Then Huon, also unarmed, +rides at Charlot, though his brother calls out to him: "I see helmets +flashing there among the bushes." With his scarlet mantle rolled round +his arm he meets the lance of Charlot safely, and with his sword, as +he passes, cuts through the helmet and head of his adversary.</p> + +<p>This is good enough for Amaury, and he lets Huon and his party ride on +to the city, while he takes up the body of Charlot on a shield and +follows after.</p> + +<p>Huon comes before the Emperor and tells his story as far as he knows +it; he does not know that the felon he has killed is the Emperor's +son. Charlemagne gives solemn absolution to Huon. Then appears Amaury +with a false story, making<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> Huon the aggressor. Charlemagne forgets +all about the absolution and snatches up a knife, and is with +difficulty calmed by his wise men.</p> + +<p>The ordeal of battle has to decide between the two parties; there are +elaborate preparations and preliminaries, obviously of the most vivid +interest to the audience. The demeanour of the Abbot of Clugni ought +not to be passed over: he vows that if Heaven permits any mischance to +come upon Huon, he, the Abbot, will make it good on St. Peter himself, +and batter his holy shrine till the gold flies.</p> + +<p>In the combat Huon is victorious; but unhappily a last treacherous +effort of his enemy, after he has yielded and confessed, makes Huon +cut off his head in too great a hurry before the confession is heard +by the Emperor or any witnesses:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Le teste fist voler ens el larris:<br /> +Hues le voit, mais ce fu sans jehir.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p style="text-align: center">The head went flying over the lea, but it had no more words +to speak.</p> + +<p>Huon is not forgiven by the Emperor; the Emperor spares his life, +indeed, but sends him on a hopeless expedition.</p> + +<p>And there the first part of the story ends. The present version is +dated in the early part of the reign of St. Louis; it is contemporary +with Snorri Sturluson and Sturla his nephew, and exhibits, though not +quite in the Icelandic manner, the principal motives of early unruly +society, without much fanciful addition, and with a very strong hold +upon the tragic situation, and upon the types of character. As in +<i>Raoul de Cambrai</i>, right and wrong are mixed; the Emperor has a real +grievance against Huon, and Huon, with little fault of his own, is put +apparently in the wrong. The interests involved are of the strongest +possible. There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> was not a single lord among those to whom the +minstrel repeated his story who did not know that he might have to +look out for encroachments and injustice—interference at any +rate—from the king, and treachery from his neighbours. No one hoped +to leave his castles and lands in peace to his son, who did not also +fear that his son might be left defenceless and his lands exposed to +competition; a fear most touchingly expressed in the lament of William +of Poitiers, when he set out on the first Crusade.<a name="FNanchor_78_78" id="FNanchor_78_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a></p> + +<p>Whatever general influences of law or politics or social economy are +supposed to be at work in the story of <i>Huon of Bordeaux</i>,—and all +this earlier part of it is a story of feudal politics and legal +problems,—these influences were also present in the real world in +which the maker and the hearers of the poem had their life. It is +plain and serious dealing with matter of fact.</p> + +<p>But after the ordeal of battle in which Huon kills the traitor, the +tone changes with great abruptness and a new story begins.</p> + +<p>The commission laid upon Huon by the implacable and doting Emperor is +nothing less than that which afterwards was made a byword for all +impossible enterprises—"to take the Great Turk by the beard." He is +to go to Babylon and, literally, to beard the Admiral there, and carry +off the Admiral's daughter. The audience is led away into the wide +world of Romance. Huon goes to the East by way of Rome and +Brindisi—naturally enough—but the real world ends at Brindisi; +beyond that everything is magical.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h1>ROMANCE</h1> + +<h2>AND THE OLD FRENCH ROMANTIC SCHOOLS</h2> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p> + +<h3>ROMANCE</h3> + +<h4>AND THE OLD FRENCH ROMANTIC SCHOOLS</h4> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Romance</span> in many varieties is to be found inherent in Epic and in +Tragedy; for some readers, possibly, the great and magnificent forms +of poetry are most attractive when from time to time they forget their +severity, and when the tragic strength is allowed to rest, as in the +fairy interludes of the <i>Odyssey</i>, or the similes of the clouds, +winds, and mountain-waters in the <i>Iliad</i>. If Romance be the name for +the sort of imagination that possesses the mystery and the spell of +everything remote and unattainable, then Romance is to be found in the +old Northern heroic poetry in larger measure than any epic or tragic +solemnity, and in no small measure also even in the steady course of +the Icelandic histories. Possibly Romance is in its best place here, +as an element in the epic harmony; perhaps the romantic mystery is +most mysterious when it is found as something additional among the +graver and more positive affairs of epic or tragic personages. The +occasional visitations of the dreaming moods of romance, in the middle +of a great epic or a great tragedy, are often more romantic than the +literature which is nothing but romance from beginning to end. The +strongest poets, Homer, Dante, and Shakespeare, have along with their +strong reasoning enough of the lighter and fainter grace and charm to +be the despair<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> of all the "romantic schools" in the world. In the +Icelandic prose stories, as has been seen already, there is a similar +combination. These stories contain the strongest imaginative work of +the Middle Ages before Dante. Along with this there is found in them +occasionally the uncertain and incalculable play of the other, the +more airy mode of imagination; and the romance of the strong Sagas is +more romantic than that of the medieval works which have no other +interest to rely upon, or of all but a very few.</p> + +<p>One of the largest and plainest facts of medieval history is the +change of literature in the twelfth century, and the sudden and +exuberant growth and progress of a number of new poetical forms; +particularly the courtly lyric that took shape in Provence, and passed +into the tongues of Italy, France, and Germany, and the French romance +which obeyed the same general inspiration as the Provençal poetry, and +was equally powerful as an influence on foreign nations. The French +Romantic Schools of the twelfth century are among the most definite +and the most important appearances even in that most wonderful age; +though it is irrational to contrast them with the other great +historical movements of the time, because there is no real separation +between them. French romance is part of the life of the time, and the +life of the twelfth century is reproduced in French romance.</p> + +<p>The rise of these new forms of story makes an unmistakable difference +between the age that preceded them and everything that comes after. +They are a new, fresh, and prosperous beginning in literature, and +they imply the failure of the older manner of thought, the older +fashion of imagination, represented in the epic literature of France, +not to speak of the various Teutonic forms of heroic verse and prose +that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> are related to the epic of France only by a remote common +ancestry, and a certain general likeness in the conditions of "heroic" +life.</p> + +<p>The defeat of French epic, as has been noted already, was slow and +long resisted; but the victory of romance was inevitable. Together +with the influence of the Provençal lyric idealism, it determined the +forms of modern literature, long after the close of the Middle Ages. +The change of fashion in the twelfth century is as momentous and +far-reaching in its consequences as that to which the name +"Renaissance" is generally appropriated. The later Renaissance, +indeed, in what concerns imaginative literature, makes no such abrupt +and sudden change of fashion as was made in the twelfth century. The +poetry and romance of the Renaissance follow naturally upon the +literature of the Middle Ages; for the very good reason that it was +the Middle Ages which began, even in their dark beginnings, the modern +study of the humanities, and in the twelfth century made a remarkable +and determined effort to secure the inheritance of ancient poetry for +the advantage of the new tongues and their new forms of verse. There +is no such line of division between Ariosto and Chrestien of Troyes as +there is between Chrestien and the primitive epic.</p> + +<p>The romantic schools of the twelfth century are the result and +evidence of a great unanimous movement, the origins of which may be +traced far back in the general conditions of education and learning, +in the influence of Latin authors, in the interchange of popular +tales. They are among the most characteristic productions of the most +impressive, varied, and characteristic period in the Middle Ages; of +that century which broke, decisively, with the old "heroic" +traditions, and made the division between the heroic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> and the +chivalric age. When the term "medieval" is used in modern talk, it +almost always denotes something which first took definite shape in the +twelfth century. The twelfth century is the source of most of the +"medieval" influences in modern art and literature, and the French +romances of that age are the original authorities for most of the +"Gothic" ornaments adopted in modern romantic schools.</p> + +<p>The twelfth-century French romances form a definite large group, with +many ranks and divisions, some of which are easily distinguished, +while all are of great historical interest.</p> + +<p>One common quality, hardly to be mistaken, is that which marks them +all as belonging to a romantic <i>school</i>, in almost all the modern +senses of that term. That is to say, they are not the spontaneous +product of an uncritical and ingenuous imagination; they are not the +same sort of thing as the popular stories on which many of them are +founded; they are the literary work of authors more or less +sophisticated, on the look-out for new sensations and new literary +devices. It is useless to go to those French books in order to catch +the first fresh jet of romantic fancy, the "silly sooth" of the golden +age. One might as well go to the <i>Légende des Siècles</i>. Most of the +romance of the medieval schools is already hot and dusty and fatigued. +It has come through the mills of a thousand active literary men, who +know their business, and have an eye to their profits. Medieval +romance, in its most characteristic and most influential form, is +almost as factitious and professional as modern Gothic architecture. +The twelfth-century dealers in romantic commonplaces are as fully +conscious of the market value of their goods as any later poet who has +borrowed from them their giants and enchanters, their forests and +their magic castles;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> and these and similar properties are used in the +twelfth century with the same kind of literary sharpness, the same +attention to the demands of the "reading public," as is shown by the +various poets and novelists who have waited on the successes, and +tried to copy the methods, of Goethe, Scott, or Victor Hugo. Pure +Romance, such as is found in the old Northern poems, is very rare in +the French stories of the twelfth century; the magical touch and the +sense of mystery, and all the things that are associated with the name +romance, when that name is applied to the <i>Ancient Mariner</i>, or <i>La +Belle Dame sans Merci</i>, or the <i>Lady of Shalott</i>, are generally absent +from the most successful romances of the great medieval romantic age, +full though they may be of all the forms of chivalrous devotion and +all the most wonderful romantic machines. Most of them are as +different from the true irresistible magic of fancy as <i>Thalaba</i> from +<i>Kubla Khan</i>. The name "romantic school" is rightly applicable to them +and their work, for almost the last thing that is produced in a +"romantic school" is the infallible and indescribable touch of +romance. A "romantic school" is a company for the profitable working +of Broceliande, an organised attempt to "open up" the Enchanted +Ground; such, at least, is the appearance of a great deal of the +romantic literature of the early part of the nineteenth century, and +of its forerunner in the twelfth. There is this difference between the +two ages, that the medieval romanticists are freer and more original +than the moderns who made a business out of tales of terror and +wonder, and tried to fatten their lean kine on the pastures of +"Gothic" or of Oriental learning.</p> + +<p>The romance-writers of the twelfth century, though they did much to +make romance into a mechanic art, though they reduced the game to a +system and left<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> the different romantic combinations and conventions +within the reach of almost any 'prentice hand, were yet in their way +original explorers. Though few of them got out of their materials the +kind of effect that appeals to us now most strongly, and though we +think we can see what they missed in their opportunities, yet they +were not the followers of any great man of their own time, and they +chose their own way freely, not as bungling imitators of a greater +artist. It is a disappointment to find that romance is rarely at its +finest in the works that technically have the best right in the world +to be called by that name. Nevertheless, the work that is actually +found there is interesting in its own way, and historically of an +importance which does not need to be emphasised.</p> + +<p>The true romantic interest is very unequally distributed over the +works of the Middle Ages, and there is least of it in the authors who +are most representative of the "age of chivalry." There is a +disappointment prepared for any one who looks in the greater romantic +authors of the twelfth century for the music of the <i>Faery Queene</i> or +<i>La Belle Dame sans Merci</i>. There is more of the pure romantic element +in the poems of Brynhild, in the story of Njal, in the <i>Song of +Roland</i>, than in the famous romances of Chrestien of Troyes or any of +his imitators, though they have all the wonders of the Isle of Britain +at their command, though they have the very story of Tristram and the +very mystery of the Grail to quicken them and call them out. Elegance, +fluency, sentiment, romantic adventures are common, but for words like +those of Hervor at the grave of her father, or of the parting between +Brynhild and Sigurd, or of Helgi and Sigrun, it would be vain to +search in the romances of Benoit de Sainte More or of Chrestien. Yet +these are the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> masters of the art of romance when it was fresh and +strong, a victorious fashion.</p> + +<p>If the search be continued further, the search for that kind of +imaginative beauty which these authors do not give, it will not be +unsuccessful. The greater authors of the twelfth century have more +affinity to the "heroic romance" of the school of the <i>Grand Cyrus</i> +than to the dreams of Spenser or Coleridge. But, while this is the +case with the most distinguished members of the romantic school, it is +not so with all the rest. The magic that is wanting to the clear and +elegant narrative of Benoit and Chrestien will be found elsewhere; it +will be found in one form in the mystical prose of the <i>Queste del St. +Graal</i>—a very different thing from Chrestien's <i>Perceval</i>—it will be +found, again and again, in the prose of Sir Thomas Malory; it will be +found in many ballads and ballad burdens, in <i>William and Margaret</i>, +in <i>Binnorie</i>, in the <i>Wife of Usher's Well</i>, in the <i>Rime of the +Count Arnaldos</i>, in the <i>Königskinder</i>; it will be found in the most +beautiful story of the Middle Ages, <i>Aucassin and Nicolette</i>; one of +the few perfectly beautiful stories in the world, about which there is +no need, in England at any rate, to say anything in addition to the +well-known passages in which it has been praised. <i>Aucassin and +Nicolette</i> cannot be made into a representative medieval romance: +there is nothing else like it; and the qualities that make it what it +is are the opposite of the rhetorical self-possession, the correct and +deliberate narrative of Chrestien and his school. It contains the +quintessence of romantic imagination, but it is quite unlike the most +fashionable and successful romances.</p> + +<p>There are several stages in the history of the great Romantic School, +as well as several distinct sources<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> of interest. The value of the +best works of the school consists in their representation of the +passion of love. They turn the psychology of the courtly amatory poets +into narrative. Chaucer's address to the old poets,—"Ye lovers that +can make of sentiment,"—when he complains that they have left little +for him to glean in the field of poetry, does not touch the lyrical +poets only. The narrative poetry of the courteous school is equally +devoted to the philosophy of love. Narrative poets like Chrestien, +when they turn to lyric, can change their instrument without changing +the purport of their verse; lyric or narrative, it has the same +object, the same duty. So also, two hundred years later, Chaucer +himself or Froissart may use narrative or lyric forms indifferently, +and observe the same "courteous" ideal in both.</p> + +<p>In the twelfth-century narratives, besides the interest of the +love-story and all its science, there was the interest of adventure, +of strange things; and here there is a great diversity among the +authors, and a perceptible difference between earlier and later usage. +Courteous sentiment, running through a succession of wonderful +adventures, is generally enough to make a romance; but there are some +notable varieties, both in the sentiment and in the incidents. The +sentiment comes later in the history of literature than the +adventures; the conventional romantic form of plot may be said to have +been fixed before the romantic sentiment was brought to its furthest +refinement. The wonders of romantic story are more easily traced to +their origin, or at least to some of their earlier forms, than the +spirit of chivalrous idealism which came in due time to take +possession of the fabulous stories, and gave new meanings to the lives +of Tristram and Lancelot.</p> + +<p>Variety of incident, remoteness of scene, and all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> the incredible +things in the world, had been at the disposal of medieval authors long +before the French Romantic Schools began to define themselves. The +wonders of the East, especially, had very early come into literature; +and the Anglo-Saxon <i>Epistle of Alexander</i> seems to anticipate the +popular taste for Eastern stories, just as the Anglo-Saxon version of +<i>Apollonius of Tyre</i> anticipates the later importation of Greek +romance, and the appropriation of classical rhetoric, in the twelfth +and thirteenth centuries; as the grace and brightness of the old +English poems of St. Andrew or St. Helen seem to anticipate the +peculiar charm of some of the French poems of adventures. In French +literature before the vogue of romance can be said to have begun, and +before the epic form had lost its supremacy, the poem of the +<i>Pilgrimage of Charlemagne</i>, one of the oldest extant poems of the +heroic cycle, is already far gone in subjection to the charm of mere +unqualified wonder and exaggeration—rioting in the wonders of the +East, like the Varangians on their holiday, when they were allowed a +free day to loot in the Emperor's palace.<a name="FNanchor_79_79" id="FNanchor_79_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_79_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a> The poem of +Charlemagne's journey to Constantinople is unrefined enough, but the +later and more elegant romances deal often in the same kind of matter. +Mere furniture counts for a good deal in the best romances, and they +are full of descriptions of riches and splendours. The story of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> Troy +is full of details of various sorts of magnificence; the city of Troy +itself and "Ylion," its master-tower, were built by Priam out of all +kinds of marble, and covered with sculpture all over. Much further on +in Benoit's poem (l. 14,553) Hector is brought home wounded to a room +which is described in 300 lines, with particulars of its remarkable +decorations, especially its four magical images. The tomb of +Penthesilea (l. 25,690) is too much for the author:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Sepolture ot et monument<br /> +Tant que se <i>Plenius</i> fust vis<br /> +Ou <i>cil qui fist Apocalis</i><br /> +Nel vos sauroient il retraire:<br /> +Por ço si m'en dei gie bien taire:<br /> +N'en dirai plus, que n'oseroie;<br /> +Trop halte chose envaïroie.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>Pliny and the author of the Apocalypse are here acknowledged as +masters and authorities in the art of description. In other places of +the same work there is a very liberal use of natural history such as +is common in many versions of the history of Alexander. There is, for +example, a long description of the precious clothes of Briseide +(Cressida) at her departure, especially of her mantle, which had been +given to Calchas by an Indian poet in Upper India. It was made by +nigromancy, of the skin of the beast <i>Dindialos</i>, which is hunted in +the shadowless land by the savage people whose name is <i>Cenocefali</i>; +and the fringes of the mantle were not of the sable, but of a "beast +of price" that dwells in the water of Paradise:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Dedans le flum de Paradis<br /> +Sont et conversent, ço set l'on<br /> +Se c'est vrais que nos en lison.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>Calchas had a tent which had belonged to Pharaoh:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span>—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Diomedes tant la conduit<br /> +Qu'il descendi al paveillon<br /> +Qui fu al riche Pharaon,<br /> +Cil qui noa en la mer roge.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>In such passages of ornamental description the names of strange people +and of foreign kings have the same kind of value as the names of +precious stones, and sometimes they are introduced on their own +account, apart from the precious work of Arabian or Indian artists. Of +this sort is the "dreadful sagittary," who is still retained in +Shakespeare's <i>Troilus and Cressida</i> on the ultimate authority (when +it comes to be looked into) of Benoit de Sainte More.<a name="FNanchor_80_80" id="FNanchor_80_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_80_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a></p> + +<p>A quotation by M. Gaston Paris (<i>Hist. litt. de la France</i>, xxx. p. +210), from the unpublished romance of <i>Ider</i> (Edeyrn, son of Nudd), +shows how this fashion of rich description and allusion had been +overdone, and how it was necessary, in time, to make a protest against +it. Kings' pavilions were a favourite subject for rhetoric, and the +poet of <i>Ider</i> explains that he does not approve of this fashion, +though he has pavilions of his own, and can describe them if he likes, +as well as any one:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Tels diz n'a fors savor de songe,<br /> +Tant en acreissent les paroles:<br /> +Mes jo n'ai cure d'iperboles:<br /> +<i>Yperbole</i> est chose non voire,<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span>Qui ne fu et qui n'est a croire,<br /> +C'en est la difinicion:<br /> +Mes tant di de cest paveillon<br /> +Qu'il n'en a nul soz ciel qu'il vaille.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Many poets give themselves pains to describe gardens and +pavilions and other things, and think they are beautifying +their work, but this is all dreaming and waste of words; I +will have no such hyperbole. (<i>Hyperbole</i> means by +definition that which is untrue and incredible.) I will only +say of this pavilion that there was not its match under +heaven.</p></div> + +<p>The author, by his definition of <i>hyperbole</i><a name="FNanchor_81_81" id="FNanchor_81_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_81_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a> in this place, +secures an ornamental word with which he consoles himself for his +abstinence in other respects. This piece of science is itself +characteristic of the rhetorical enterprise of the Romantic School; of +the way in which Pliny, Isidore, and other encyclopaedic authors were +turned into decorations. The taste for such things is common in the +early and the later Middle Ages; all that the romances did was to give +a certain amount of finish and neatness to the sort of work that was +left comparatively rude by the earlier pedants. There many be +discovered in some writers a preference for classical subjects in +their ornamental digressions, or for the graceful forms of allegory, +such as in the next century were collected for the Garden of the Rose, +and still later for the <i>House of Fame</i>. Thus Chrestien seems to +assert his superiority<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> of taste and judgment when, instead of +Oriental work, he gives Enid an ivory saddle carved with the story of +Aeneas and Dido (<i>Erec</i>, l. 5337); or when, in the same book, Erec's +coronation mantle, though it is fairy work, bears no embroidered +designs of Broceliande or Avalon, but four allegorical figures of the +quadrivial sciences, with a reference by Chrestien to Macrobius as his +authority in describing them. One function of this Romantic School, +though not the most important, is to make an immediate literary profit +out of all accessible books of learning. It was a quick-witted school, +and knew how to turn quotations and allusions. Much of its art, like +the art of <i>Euphues</i>, is bestowed in making pedantry look attractive.</p> + +<p>The narrative material imported and worked up in the Romantic School +is, of course, enormously more important than the mere decorations +taken out of Solinus or Macrobius. It is not, however, with the +principal masters the most important part of their study. Chrestien, +for example, often treats his adventures with great levity in +comparison with the serious psychological passages; the wonder often +is that he should have used so much of the common stuff of adventures +in poems where he had a strong commanding interest in the sentiments +of the personages. There are many irrelevant and unnecessary +adventures in his <i>Erec</i>, <i>Lancelot</i>, and <i>Yvain</i>, not to speak of his +unfinished <i>Perceval</i>; while in <i>Cliges</i> he shows that he did not rely +on the commonplaces of adventure, on the regular machinery of romance, +and that he might, when he chose, commit himself to a novel almost +wholly made up of psychology and sentiment. Whatever the explanation +be in this case, it is plain enough both that the adventures are of +secondary value as compared with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> the psychology, in the best +romances, and that their value, though inferior, is still +considerable, even in some of the best work of the "courtly makers."</p> + +<p>The greatest novelty in the twelfth-century narrative materials was +due to the Welsh; not that the "matter of Britain" was quite +overwhelming in extent, or out of proportion to the other stores of +legend and fable. "The matter of Rome the Great" (not to speak again +of the old epic "matter of France" and its various later romantic +developments) included all known antiquity, and it was recruited +continually by new importations from the East. The "matter of Rome," +however, the tales of Thebes and Troy and the wars of Alexander, had +been known more or less for centuries, and they did not produce the +same effect as the discovery of the Celtic stories. Rather, it may be +held that the Welsh stories gave a new value to the classical +authorities, and suggested new imaginative readings. As Chaucer's +<i>Troilus</i> in our own time has inspired a new rendering of the <i>Life +and Death of Jason</i>, so (it would seem) the same story of Jason got a +new meaning in the twelfth century when it was read by Benoit de +Sainte More in the light of Celtic romance. Then it was discovered +that Jason and Medea were no more, and no less, than the adventurer +and the wizard's daughter, who might play their parts in a story of +Wales or Brittany. The quest of the Golden Fleece and the labours of +Jason are all reduced from the rhetoric of Ovid, from their classical +dignity, to something like what their original shape may have been +when the story that now is told in Argyll and Connaught of the <i>King's +Son of Ireland</i> was told or chanted, ages before Homer, of a king's +son of the Greeks and an enchantress beyond sea. Something indeed, and +that of the highest consequence, as will be seen, was kept by Benoit +from his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> reading of the <i>Metamorphoses</i>; the passion of Medea, +namely. But the story itself is hardly distinguishable in kind from +<i>Libeaux Desconus</i>. It is not easy to say how far this treatment of +Jason may be due to the Welsh example of similar stories, and how far +to the general medieval disrespect for everything in the classics +except their matter. The Celtic precedents can scarcely have been +without influence on this very remarkable detection of the "Celtic +element" in the voyage of the Argonauts, while at the same time Ovid +ought not to be refused his share in the credit of medieval romantic +adventure. Virgil, Ovid, and Statius are not to be underrated as +sources of chivalrous adventure, even in comparison with the +unquestioned riches of Wales or Ireland.</p> + +<p>There is more than one distinct stage in the progress of the Celtic +influence in France. The culmination of the whole thing is attained +when Chrestien makes the British story of the capture and rescue of +Guinevere into the vehicle of his most finished and most courtly +doctrine of love, as shown in the examples of Lancelot and the Queen. +Before that there are several earlier kinds of Celtic romance in +French, and after that comes what for modern readers is more +attractive than the typical work of Chrestien and his school,—the +eloquence of the old French prose, with its languor and its +melancholy, both in the prose <i>Lancelot</i> and in the <i>Queste del St. +Graal</i> and <i>Mort Artus</i>. In Chrestien everything is clear and +positive; in these prose romances, and even more in Malory's English +rendering of his "French book," is to be heard the indescribable +plaintive melody, the sigh of the wind over the enchanted ground, the +spell of pure Romance. Neither in Chrestien of Troyes, nor yet in the +earlier authors who dealt more simply<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> than he with their Celtic +materials, is there anything to compare with this later prose.</p> + +<p>In some of the earlier French romantic work, in some of the lays of +Marie de France, and in the fragments of the poems about Tristram, +there is a kind of simplicity, partly due to want of skill, but in its +effect often impressive enough. The plots made use of by the medieval +artists are some of them among the noblest in the world, but none of +the poets were strong enough to bring out their value, either in +translating <i>Dido</i> and <i>Medea</i>, or in trying to educate Tristram and +other British heroes according to the manners of the Court of +Champagne. There are, however, differences among the +misinterpretations and the failures. No French romance appears to have +felt the full power of the story of Tristram and Iseult; no French +poet had his mind and imagination taken up by the character of Iseult +as more than one Northern poet was possessed by the tragedy of +Brynhild. But there were some who, without developing the story as +Chaucer did with the story of Troilus, at least allowed it to tell +itself clearly. The Celtic magic, as that is described in Mr. Arnold's +<i>Lectures</i>, has scarcely any place in French romance, either of the +earlier period or of the fully-developed and successful chivalrous +order, until the time of the prose books. The French poets, both the +simpler sort and the more elegant, appear to have had a gift for +ignoring that power of vagueness and mystery which is appreciated by +some of the prose authors of the thirteenth century. They seem for the +most part to have been pleased with the incidents of the Celtic +stories, without appreciating any charm of style that they may have +possessed. They treated them, in fact, as they treated Virgil and +Ovid; and there is about as much of the "Celtic spirit" in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> French +versions of <i>Tristram</i>, as there is of the genius of Virgil in the +<i>Roman d'Eneas</i>. In each case there is something recognisable of the +original source, but it has been translated by minds imperfectly +responsive. In dealing with Celtic, as with Greek, Latin, or Oriental +stories, the French romancers were at first generally content if they +could get the matter in the right order and present it in simple +language, like tunes played with one finger. One great advantage of +this procedure is that the stories are intelligible; the sequence of +events is clear, and where the original conception has any strength or +beauty it is not distorted, though the colours may be faint. This +earlier and more temperate method was abandoned in the later stages of +the Romantic School, when it often happened that a simple story was +taken from the "matter of Britain" and overlaid with the chivalrous +conventional ornament, losing its simplicity without being developed +in respect of its characters or its sentiment. As an example of the +one kind may be chosen the <i>Lay of Guingamor</i>, one of the lays of +Marie de France;<a name="FNanchor_82_82" id="FNanchor_82_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_82_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a> as an example of the other, the Dutch romance of +Gawain (<i>Walewein</i>), which is taken from the French and exhibits the +results of a common process of adulteration. Or, again, the story of +<i>Guinglain</i>, as told by Renaud de Beaujeu with an irrelevant "courtly" +digression, may be compared with the simpler and more natural versions +in English (<i>Libeaux Desconus</i>) and Italian (<i>Carduino</i>), as has been +done by M. Gaston Paris; or the <i>Conte du Graal</i> of Chrestien with the +English <i>Sir Perceval of Galles</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Guingamor</i> is one of the best of the simpler kind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> of romances. The +theme is that of an old story, a story which in one form and another +is extant in native Celtic versions with centuries between them. In +essentials it is the story of Ossian in the land of youth; in its +chief motive, the fairy-bride, it is akin to the old Irish story of +Connla. It is different from both in its definite historical manner of +treating the subject. The story is allowed to count for the full value +of all its incidents, with scarcely a touch to heighten the importance +of any of them. It is the argument of a story, and little more. Even +an argument, however, may present some of the vital qualities of a +fairy story, as well as of a tragic plot, and the conclusion, +especially, of <i>Guingamor</i> is very fine in its own way, through its +perfect clearness.</p> + +<p>There was a king in Britain, and Guingamor was his nephew. The queen +fell in love with him, and was driven to take revenge for his +rejection of her; but being less cruel than other queens of similar +fortune, she planned nothing worse than to send him into the <i>lande +aventureuse</i>, a mysterious forest on the other side of the river, to +hunt the white boar. This white boar of the adventurous ground had +already taken off ten knights, who had gone out to hunt it and had +never returned. Guingamor followed the boar with the king's hound. In +his wanderings he came on a great palace, with a wall of green marble +and a silver shining tower, and open gates, and no one within, to +which he was brought back later by a maiden whom he met in the forest. +The story of their meeting was evidently, in the original, a story +like that of Weland and the swan-maidens, and those of other swan or +seal maidens, who are caught by their lovers as Weland caught his +bride. But the simplicity of the French story here is in excess of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> +what is required even by the illiterate popular versions of similar +incidents.</p> + +<p>Guingamor, after two days in the rich palace (where he met the ten +knights of the king's court, who had disappeared before), on the third +day wished to go back to bring the head of the white boar to the king. +His bride told him that he had been there for three hundred years, and +that his uncle was dead, with all his retinue, and his cities fallen +and destroyed.</p> + +<p>But she allowed him to go, and gave him the boar's head and the king's +hound; and told him after he had crossed the river into his own +country to eat and drink nothing.</p> + +<p>He was ferried across the river, and there he met a charcoal-burner +and asked for news of the king. The king had been dead for three +hundred years, he was told; and the king's nephew had gone hunting in +the forest and had never been seen again. Guingamor told him his +story, and showed him the boar's head, and turned to go back.</p> + +<p>Now it was after nones and turning late. He saw a wild apple-tree and +took three apples from it; but as he tasted them he grew old and +feeble and fell from his horse.</p> + +<p>The charcoal-burner had followed him and was going to help him, when +he saw two damsels richly dressed, who came to Guingamor and +reproached him for his forgetfulness. They put him gently on a horse +and brought him to the river, and ferried him over, along with his +hound. The charcoal-burner went back to his own house at nightfall. +The boar's head he took to the king of Britain that then was, and told +the story of Guingamor, and the king bade turn it into a lay.</p> + +<p>The simplicity of all this is no small excellence in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> a story. If +there is anything in this story that can affect the imagination, it is +there unimpaired by anything foreign or cumbrous. It is unsupported +and undeveloped by any strong poetic art, but it is sound and clear.</p> + +<p>In the Dutch romance of <i>Walewein</i>, and doubtless in its French +original (to show what is gained by the moderation and restriction of +the earlier school), another story of fairy adventures has been +dressed up to look like chivalry. The story of Walewein is one that +appears in collections of popular tales; it is that of Mac Iain +Direach in Campbell's <i>West Highland Tales</i> (No. xlvi.), as well as of +Grimm's <i>Golden Bird</i>. The romance observes the general plot of the +popular story; indeed, it is singular among the romances in its close +adherence to the order of events as given in the traditional oral +forms. Though it contains 11,200 lines, it begins at the beginning and +goes on to the end without losing what may be considered the original +design. But while the general economy is thus retained, there are +large digressions, and there is an enormous change in the character of +the hero. While Guingamor in the French poem has little, if anything, +to distinguish him from the adventurer of popular fairy stories, the +hero in this Dutch romance is Gawain,—Gawain the Courteous, in +splendid armour, playing the part of Mac Iain Direach. The discrepancy +is very great, and there can be little doubt that the story as told in +Gaelic fifty years ago by Angus Campbell, quarryman, is, in respect of +the hero's condition and manners, more original than the medieval +romance. Both versions are simple enough in their plot, and their plot +is one and the same: the story of a quest for something wonderful, +leading to another quest and then another, till the several problems +are solved and the adventurer returns<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> successful. In each story (as +in Grimm's version also) the Fox appears as a helper.</p> + +<p>Mac Iain Direach is sent to look for the Blue Falcon; the giant who +owns the Falcon sends him to the big Women of the Isle of Jura to ask +for their white glaive of light. The Women of Jura ask for the bay +filly of the king of Erin; the king of Erin sends him to woo for him +the king's daughter of France. Mac Iain Direach wins all for himself, +with the help of the Fox.</p> + +<p>Gawain has to carry out similar tasks: to find and bring back to King +Arthur a magical flying Chessboard that appeared one day through the +window and went out again; to bring to King Wonder, the owner of the +Chessboard, "the sword of the strange rings"; to win for the owner of +the sword the Princess of the Garden of India.</p> + +<p>Some things in the story, apart from the hero, are different from the +popular versions. In <i>Walewein</i> there appears quite plainly what is +lost in the Gaelic and the German stories, the character of the +strange land in which the quests are carried out. Gawain has to pass +through or into a hill to reach the land of King Wonder; it does not +belong to the common earth. The three castles to which he comes have +all of them water about them; the second of them, Ravensten, is an +island in the sea; the third is beyond the water of Purgatory, and is +reached by two perilous bridges, the bridge of the sword and the +bridge under water, like those in Chrestien's <i>Lancelot</i>. There is a +distinction here, plain enough, between the human world, to which +Arthur and his Court belong, and the other world within the hill, and +the castles beyond the waters. But if this may be supposed to belong +to an older form of the story not evident in the popular versions, a +story of adventures in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> land of the Dead, on the other hand the +romance has no conception of the meaning of these passages, and gets +no poetical result from the chances here offered to it. It has nothing +like the vision of Thomas of Erceldoune; the waters about the magic +island are tame and shallow; the castle beyond the Bridge of Dread is +loaded with the common, cheap, pedantic "hyperboles," like those of +the <i>Pèlerinage</i> or of Benoit's <i>Troy</i>. Gawain is too heavily +armoured, also, and even his horse Gringalet has a reputation of his +own; all inconsistent with the lightness of the fairy tale. Gawain in +the land of all these dreams is burdened still by the heavy chivalrous +conventions. The world for him, even after he has gone through the +mountain, is still very much the old world with the old stale business +going on; especially tournaments and all their weariness. One natural +result of all this is that the Fox's part is very much reduced. In the +Gaelic story, Mac Iain Direach and his friend Gille Mairtean (the Lad +of March, the Fox) are a pair of equals; they have no character, no +position in the world, no station and its duties. They are quite +careless, and they move freely. Gawain is slow, and he has to put in a +certain amount of the common romantic business. The authors of that +romantic school, if ever they talked shop, may have asked one another, +"Where do you put your Felon Red Knight? Where do you put your doing +away of the Ill Custom? or your tournaments?" and the author of +<i>Walewein</i> would have had an answer ready. Everything is there all +right: that is to say, all the things that every one else has, all the +mechanical business of romance. The Fox is postponed to the third +adventure, and there, though he has not quite grown out of his +original likeness to the Gille Mairtean, he is evidently constrained. +Sir Gawain of the romance, this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> courteous but rather dull and +middle-aged gentleman in armour, is not his old light-hearted +companion.</p> + +<p>Still, though this story of <i>Gawain</i> is weighed down by the +commonplaces of the Romantic School, it shows through all its +encumbrances what sort of story it was that impressed the French +imagination at the beginning of the School. It may be permitted to +believe that the story of <i>Walewein</i> existed once in a simpler and +clearer form, like that of <i>Guingamor</i>.</p> + +<p>The curious sophistication of <i>Guinglain</i> by Renaud de Beaujeu has +been fully described and criticised by M. Gaston Paris in one of his +essays (<i>Hist. litt. de la France</i>, xxx. p. 171). His comparison with +the English and Italian versions of the story brings out the +indifference of the French poets to their plot, and their readiness to +sacrifice the unities of action for the sake of irrelevant sentiment. +The story is as simple as that of Walewein; an expedition, this time, +to rescue a lady from enchantment. She is bewitched in the form of a +serpent, and freed by a kiss (<i>le fier basier</i>). There are various +adventures on the journey; it has some resemblance to that of Gareth +in the <i>Morte d'Arthur</i>, and of the Red Cross Knight in Spenser, which +is founded upon Malory's <i>Gareth</i>.<a name="FNanchor_83_83" id="FNanchor_83_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_83_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a> One of the adventures is in the +house of a beautiful sorceress, who treats Guinglain with small +consideration. Renaud de Beaujeu, in order to get literary credit from +his handling of this romantic episode, brings Guinglain back to this +enchantress after the real close of the story, in a kind of +sentimental show-piece or appendix, by which the story is quite +overweighted and thrown off its balance for the sake of a rhetorical +demonstration. This of course belongs to the later period<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> of romance, +when the simpler methods had been discredited; but the simpler form, +much nearer the fashion of popular stories, is still kept more or less +by the English and the Italian rhymes of "Sir Lybeaux."</p> + +<p>The most remarkable examples of the earlier French romantic methods +are presented by the fragments remaining of the old Anglo-Norman poems +on Tristram and Yseult, by Béroul and Thomas, especially the +latter;<a name="FNanchor_84_84" id="FNanchor_84_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_84_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a> most remarkable, because in this case there is the +greatest contradiction between the tragic capabilities of the story +and the very simple methods of the Norman poets. It is a story that +might test the tragic strength and eloquence of any poet in any age of +the world; the poetical genius of Thomas is shown in his abstinence +from effort. Hardly anything could be simpler. He does very little to +fill out or to elaborate the story; he does nothing to vitiate his +style; there is little ornament or emphasis. The story itself is +there, as if the poet thought it an impertinence to add any harmonies +of his own. If it were only extant as a whole, it would be one of the +most notable of poems. Where else is there anything like it, for +sincerity and for thinness?</p> + +<p>This poet of <i>Tristram</i> does not represent the prevalent fashion of +his time. The eloquence and the passion of the amorous romances are +commonly more effusive, and seldom as true. The lost <i>Tristram</i> of +Chrestien would probably have made a contrast with the Anglo-Norman +poem in this respect. Chrestien of Troyes is at the head of the French +Romantic School, and his interest is in the science of love; not in +ancient rude and passionate stories, such as the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> story of +Tristram—for it is rude and ancient, even in the French of +Thomas—not in the "Celtic magic," except for decorative and +incidental purposes, but in psychology and analysis of the emotions, +and in the appropriate forms of language for such things.</p> + +<p>It is impossible (as M. Gaston Paris has shown) to separate the spirit +of French romance from the spirit of the Provençal lyric poetry. The +romances represent in a narrative form the ideas and the spirit which +took shape as lyric poetry in the South; the romances are directly +dependent upon the poetry of the South for their principal motives. +The courtesy of the Provençal poetry, with its idealism and its +pedantry, its psychological formalism, its rhetoric of antithesis and +conceits, is to be found again in the narrative poetry of France in +the twelfth century, just as, in the thirteenth, all the floods of +lyrical idealism are collected in the didactic reservoir of the +<i>Romaunt of the Rose</i>. The dominant interest in the French romances is +the same as in the Provençal lyric poetry and in the <i>Romaunt of the +Rose</i>; namely, the idealist or courteous science of love. The origins +of this mode of thought are difficult to trace fully. The inquiry +belongs more immediately to the history of Provence than of France, +for the romancers are the pupils of the Provençal school; not +independent practitioners of the same craft, but directly indebted to +Provence for some of their main ideas and a good deal of their +rhetoric. In Provence itself the origins are partly to be found in the +natural (<i>i.e.</i> inexplicable) development of popular love-poetry, and +in the corresponding progress of society and its sentiments; while +among the definite influences that can be proved and explained, one of +the strongest is that of Latin poetry, particularly of the <i>Art of +Love</i>. About this there can be no doubt, however great may seem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> to be +the interval between the ideas of Ovid and those of the Provençal +lyrists, not to speak of their greater scholars in Italy, Dante and +Petrarch. The pedantry of Ovid was taken seriously, for one thing, in +an age when everything systematic was valuable just because it was a +system; when every doctrine was profitable. For another thing, they +found in Ovid the form, at least, of devotion, and again the <i>Art of +Love</i> was not their only book. There were other writings of Ovid and +works of other poets from whom the Middle Ages learned their lesson of +chivalrous service; not for the most part, it must be confessed, from +the example of "Paynim Knights," but far more from the classical +"Legend of Good Women," from the passion of Dido and the other +heroines. It is true that there were some names of ancient heroes that +were held in honour; the name of Paris is almost inseparable from the +name of Tristram, wherever a medieval poet has occasion to praise the +true lovers of old time, and Dante followed the common form when he +brought the names together in his fifth canto.</p> + +<p>But what made by far the strongest impression on the Middle Ages was +not the example of Paris or of Leander, nor yet the passion of +Catullus and Propertius, who were then unknown, but the poetry of the +loyalty of the heroines, the fourth book of the <i>Aeneid</i>, the +<i>Heroides</i> of Ovid, and certain parts of the <i>Metamorphoses</i>. If +anything literary can be said to have taken effect upon the temper of +the Middle Ages, so as to produce the manners and sentiments of +chivalry, this is the literature to which the largest share of +influence must be ascribed. The ladies of Romance all owe allegiance, +and some of them are ready to pay it, to the queens of the Latin +poets.<a name="FNanchor_85_85" id="FNanchor_85_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_85_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> Virgil's Dido and Ovid's Medea taught the eloquence of +love to the French poets, and the first chivalrous lovers are those +who have learned to think poorly of the recreant knights of antiquity.</p> + +<p>The French romantic authors were scholars in the poetry of the +Provençal School, but they also knew a good deal independently of +their Provençal masters, and did not need to be told everything. They +read the ancient authors for themselves, and drew their own +conclusions from them. They were influenced by the special Provençal +rendering of the common ideas of chivalry and courtesy; they were also +affected immediately by the authors who influenced the Provençal +School.</p> + +<p>Few things are more instructive in this part of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> literature than the +story of Medea in the <i>Roman de Troie</i> of Benoit de Sainte More. It +might even claim to be the representative French romance, for it +contains in an admirable form the two chief elements common to all the +dominant school—adventure (here reduced from Ovid to the scale of a +common fairy story, as has been seen already) and sentimental +eloquence, which in this particular story is very near its original +fountain-head.</p> + +<p>It is to be noted that Benoit is not in the least troubled by the +Latin rhetoric when he has to get at the story. Nothing Latin, except +the names, and nothing rhetorical remains to show that the story came +from Ovid, and not from Blethericus or some other of his +fellow-romancers in Wales,<a name="FNanchor_86_86" id="FNanchor_86_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_86_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a> so long, that is, as the story is +merely concerned with the Golden Fleece, the Dragon, the Bulls, and +all the tasks imposed on Jason. But one essential thing is retained by +Benoit out of the Latin which is his authority, and that is the way in +which the love of Medea for Jason is dwelt upon and described.</p> + +<p>This is for medieval poetry one of the chief sources of the psychology +in which it took delight,—an original and authoritative +representation of the beginning and growth of the passion of love, not +yet spoilt by the pedantry which later displayed itself unrestrained +in the following generations of amatory poets, and which took its +finest form in the poem of Guillaume de Lorris; but yet at the same +time giving a starting-point and some encouragement to the later +pedants, by its study of the different degrees of the passion, and by +the success with which they are explained and made interesting. This +is one of the masterpieces and one of the standards of composition<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> in +early French romance; and it gives one of the most singular proofs of +the dependence of modern on ancient literature, in certain respects. +It would not be easy to prove any real connexion between Homer and the +Sagas, in order to explain the resemblances of temper, and even of +incident, between them; but in the case of the medieval romances there +is this direct and real dependence. The Medea of Apollonius Rhodius is +at the beginning of medieval poetry, in one line of descent (through +Virgil's Dido as well as Ovid's Medea); and it would be hard to +overestimate the accumulated debt of all the modern poets whose +rhetoric of passion, whether they knew it or not, is derived somehow +from the earlier medieval masters of Dante or Chaucer, Boccaccio or +Spenser.</p> + +<p>The "medieval" character of the work of Chrestien and his +contemporaries is plain enough. But "medieval" and other terms of the +same sort are too apt to impose themselves on the mind as complete +descriptive formulas, and in this case the term "medieval" ought not +to obscure the fact that it is modern literature, in one of its chief +branches, which has its beginning in the twelfth century. No later +change in the forms of fiction is more important than the +twelfth-century revolution, from which all the later forms and +constitutions of romance and novel are in some degree or other +derived. It was this revolution, of which Chrestien was one of the +first to take full advantage, that finally put an end to the old local +and provincial restrictions upon narrative. The older schools of epic +are bound to their own nation or tribe, and to the family traditions. +These restrictions are no hindrance to the poetry of Homer, nor to the +plots and conversations of the Sagas. Within these local restrictions +the highest form of narrative art is possible. Nevertheless the period +of these restrictions must come to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> an end; the heroic age cannot last +for ever. The merit of the twelfth-century authors, Benoit, Chrestien, +and their followers, is that they faced the new problems and solved +them. In their productions it may be seen how the Western world was +moving away from the separate national traditions, and beginning the +course of modern civilisation with a large stock of ideas, subjects, +and forms of expression common to all the nations. The new forms of +story might be defective in many ways, thin or formal or extravagant +in comparison with some of the older modes; but there was no help for +it, there was no progress to be made in any other way.</p> + +<p>The first condition of modern progress in novel-writing, as in other +more serious branches of learning, was that the author should be free +to look about him, to reflect and choose, to pick up his ideas and his +matter anyhow. He was turned out of the old limited region of epic +tradition. The nations had several centuries to themselves, in the +Dark Ages, in which they were at liberty to compose Homeric poems ("if +they had a mind"), but by the twelfth century that time was over. The +romancers of the twelfth century were in the same position as modern +authors in regard to their choice of subjects. Their subjects were not +prescribed to them by epic tradition. They were more or less +reflective and self-conscious literary men, citizens of the universal +world, ready to make the most of their education. They are the +sophists of medieval literature; emancipated, enlightened and +intelligent persons, with an apparatus of rhetoric, a set of abstract +ideas, a repertory of abstract sentiments, which they could apply to +any available subject. In this sophistical period, when the serious +interest of national epic was lost, and when stories, collected from +all the ends of the earth, were made the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> receptacles of a common, +abstract, sentimental pathos, it was of some importance that the +rhetoric should be well managed, and that the sentiment should be +refined. The great achievement of the French poets, on account of +which they are to be remembered as founders and benefactors, is that +they went to good masters for instruction. Solid dramatic +interpretation of character was beyond them, and they were not able to +make much of the openings for dramatic contrast in the stories on +which they worked. But they were caught and held by the language of +passion, the language of Dido and Medea; language not dramatic so much +as lyrical or musical, the expression of universal passion, such as +might be repeated without much change in a thousand stories. In this +they were happily guided. The greater drama, the stronger characters, +appeared in due time; but the dramas and the novels of Europe would +not have been what they are, without the medieval elaboration of the +simple motives, and the practice of the early romantic schools in +executing variations on Love and Jealousy. It may be remarked that +there were sources more remote and even more august, above and beyond +the Latin poets from whom the medieval authors copied their phrasing; +in so far as the Latin poets were affected by Athenian tragedy, +directly or indirectly, in their great declamatory passages, which in +turn affected the Middle Ages.</p> + +<p>The history of this school has no end, for it merges in the history of +the romantic schools that are still flourishing, and will be continued +by their successors. One of the principal lines of progress may be +indicated, to conclude this discourse on Epic Poetry.</p> + +<p>The twelfth-century romances are in most things the antithesis to +Homer, in narrative. They are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> fanciful, conceited, thin in their +drama, affected in their sentiments. They are like the "heroic +romances" of the seventeenth century, their descendants, as compared +with the strong imagination of Cervantes or Shakespeare, who are the +representatives, if not of the Homeric line, at any rate of the +Homeric principles, in their intolerance of the formally pathetic or +heroic, and who have all the great modern novelists on their side.</p> + +<p>But the early romantic schools, though they are generally formal and +sentimental, and not dramatic, have here and there the possibilities +of a stronger drama and a truer imagination, and seem at times almost +to have worked themselves free from their pedantry.</p> + +<p>There is sentiment and sentiment: and while the pathos of medieval +romance, like some of the effusion of medieval lyric, is often merely +formal repetition of phrases, it is sometimes more natural, and +sometimes the mechanical fancy seems to quicken into true poetical +vision, or at least to make room for a sane appreciation of real life +and its incidents. Chrestien of Troyes shows his genius most +unmistakably in his occasional surprising intervals of true +description and natural feeling, in the middle of his rhetoric; while +even his sustained rhetorical dissertations, like those of the <i>Roman +de la Rose</i> in the next century, are not absolutely untrue, or +uncontrolled by observation of actual manners. Often the rhetorical +apparatus interferes in the most annoying way with the clear vision. +In the <i>Chevalier au Lion</i>, for example, there is a pretty sketch of a +family party—a girl reading a romance to her father in a garden, and +her mother coming up and listening to the story—from which there is a +sudden and annoying change to the common impertinences of the amatory +professional novelist.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> This is the passage, with the two kinds of +literature in abrupt opposition:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Messire Yvain goes into the garden, and his people follow; +and he sees a goodly gentleman reclining on a cloth of silk +and leaning on his elbow; and a maiden was sitting before +him reading out of a romance, I know not whose the story. +And to listen to the romance a lady had drawn near; that was +her mother, and he was her father, and well might they be +glad to look on her and listen to her, for they had no other +child. She was not yet sixteen years old, and she was so +fair and gentle that the God of Love if he had seen her +would have given himself to be her slave, and never would +have bestowed the love of her on any other than himself. For +her sake, to serve her, he would have made himself man, +would have put off his deity, and would have stricken +himself with the dart whose wound is never healed, except a +disloyal physician tend it. It is not right that any should +recover from that wound, unless there be disloyalty in it; +and whoever is otherwise healed, he never loved with +loyalty. <i>Of this wound I could talk to you without end</i>, if +it pleased you to listen; but I know that some would say +that all my talk was idleness, for the world is fallen away +from true love, and men know not any more how to love as +they ought, for the very talk of love is a weariness to +them! (ll. 5360-5396).</p></div> + +<p>This short passage is representative of Chrestien's work, and indeed +of the most successful and influential work of the twelfth-century +schools. It is not, like some affected kinds of romance, entirely cut +off from reality. But the glimpses of the real world are occasional +and short; there is a flash of pure daylight, a breath of fresh air, +and then the heavy-laden, enchanted mists of rhetoric and obligatory +sentiment come rolling down and shut out the view.</p> + +<p>It is possible to trace out in some detail a line of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> progress in +medieval romance, in which there is a victory in the end for the more +ingenuous kind of sentiment; in which the rhetorical romantic forms +are altered and strengthened to bear the weight of true imagination.</p> + +<p>This line of progress is nothing less than the earlier life of all the +great modern forms of novel; a part of European history which deserves +some study from those who have leisure for it.</p> + +<p>The case may be looked at in this way. The romantic schools, following +on the earlier heroic literature, generally substituted a more +shallow, formal, limited set of characters for the larger and freer +portraits of the heroic age, making up for this defect in the +personages by extravagance in other respects—in the incidents, the +phrasing, the sentimental pathos, the rhetorical conceits. The great +advantage of the new school over the old was that it was adapted to +modern cosmopolitan civilisation; it left the artist free to choose +his subject anywhere, and to deal with it according to the laws of +good society, without local or national restrictions. But the earlier +work of this modern enlightenment in the Middle Ages was generally +very formal, very meagre in imagination. The progress of literature +was to fill out the romantic forms, and to gain for the new +cosmopolitan schemes of fiction the same sort of substantial contents, +the same command of human nature and its variety, as belong (with +local or national restrictions) to some at any rate of the earlier +epic authors. This being so, one of the interests of the study of +medieval romance must be the discovery of those places in which it +departs from its own dominant conventions, and seems to aim at +something different from its own nature: at the recovery of the fuller +life of epic for the benefit of romance. Epic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> fulness of life within +the limits of romantic form—that might be said to be the ideal which +is <i>not</i> attained in the Middle Ages, but towards which many medieval +writers seem to be making their way.</p> + +<p>Chrestien's story of <i>Geraint and Enid</i> (Geraint has to take the name +of <i>Erec</i> in the French) is one of his earlier works, but cannot be +called immature in comparison with what he wrote afterwards. In +Chrestien's <i>Enid</i> there is not a little superfluity of the common +sort of adventure. The story of Enid in the <i>Idylls of the King</i> +(founded upon the Welsh <i>Geraint</i>, as given in Lady Charlotte Guest's +<i>Mabinogion</i>) has been brought within compass, and a number of quite +unnecessary adventures have been cut out. Yet the story here is the +same as Chrestien's, and the drama of the story is not the pure +invention of the English poet. Chrestien has all the principal +motives, and the working out of the problem is the same. In one place, +indeed, where the Welsh romance, the immediate source of Tennyson's +<i>Enid</i>, has shortened the scene of reconciliation between the lovers, +the Idyll has restored something like the proportions of the original +French. Chrestien makes Erec speak to Enid and renounce all his +ill-will, after the scene in which "the brute Earl" is killed; the +Welsh story, with no less effect, allows the reconciliation to be +taken for granted when Geraint, at this point in the history, with no +speech of his reported, lifts Enid on his own horse. The Idyll goes +back (apparently without any direct knowledge of Chrestien's version) +to the method of Chrestien.</p> + +<p>The story of Enid in Chrestien is very unlike the other stories of +distressed and submissive wives; it has none of the ineradicable +falsity of the story of Griselda. How much is due to Chrestien for +this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> can hardly be reckoned, in our ignorance of the materials he +used. But taking into account the other passages, like that of the +girl reading in the garden, where Chrestien shows a distinct original +appreciation of certain aspects of life, it cannot be far wrong to +consider Chrestien's picture of Enid as mainly his own; and, in any +case, this picture is one of the finest in medieval romance. There is +no comparison between Chrestien of Troyes and Homer, but it is not +impious to speak of Enid along with Nausicaa, and there are few other +ladies of romance who may claim as much as this. The adventure of the +Sparrowhawk, one of the finest pieces of pure romance in the poetry of +this century, is also one of the finest in the old French, and in many +ways very unlike the commonplaces of chivalry, in the simplicity of +the household where Enid waits on her father's guest and takes his +horse to the stable, in the sincerity and clearness with which +Chrestien indicates the gentle breeding and dignity of her father and +mother, and the pervading spirit of grace and loyalty in the whole +scene.<a name="FNanchor_87_87" id="FNanchor_87_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_87_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a></p> + +<p>In the story of Enid, Chrestien has a subject which recommends itself +to modern readers. The misunderstanding between Enid and her husband, +and the reconciliation, are not peculiarly medieval, though the +adventures through which their history is worked out are of the +ordinary romantic commonplace.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span></p> + +<p>Indeed the relation of husband and wife in this story is rather +exceptionally divergent from the current romantic mode, and from the +conventional law that true love between husband and wife was +impossible. Afterwards, in his poem of <i>Lancelot</i> (<i>le Chevalier de la +Charrette</i>), Chrestien took up and worked out this conventional and +pedantic theory, and made the love of Lancelot and the Queen into the +standard for all courtly lovers. In his <i>Enid</i>, however, there is +nothing of this. At the same time, the courtly and chivalrous mode +gets the better of the central drama in his <i>Enid</i>, in so far as he +allows himself to be distracted unduly from the pair of lovers by +various "hyperboles" of the Romantic School; there are a number of +unnecessary jousts and encounters, and a mysterious exploit of Erec in +a magic garden, which is quite out of connexion with the rest of the +story. The final impression is that Chrestien wanted strength of mind +or inclination to concentrate himself on the drama of the two lovers. +The story is taken too lightly.</p> + +<p>In <i>Cliges</i>, his next work, the dramatic situation is much less +valuable than in <i>Enid</i>, but the workmanship is far more careful and +exact, and the result is a story which may claim to be among the +earliest of modern novels, if the Greek romances, to which it has a +close relation, are not taken into account. The story has very little +"machinery"; there are none of the marvels of the Faerie in it. There +is a Thessalian witch (the heroine's nurse), who keeps well within the +limits of possible witchcraft, and there is the incident of the +sleeping-draught (familiar in the ballad of the <i>Gay Goshawk</i>), and +that is all. The rest is a simple love-story (or rather a double +love-story, for there is the history of the hero's father and mother, +before his own begins), and the personages are merely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> true lovers, +undistinguished by any such qualities as the sulkiness of Erec or the +discretion of Enid. It is all pure sensibility, and as it happens the +sensibility is in good keeping—not overdriven into the pedantry of +the more quixotic troubadours and minnesingers, and not warped by the +conventions against marriage. It is explained at the end that, though +Cliges and Fenice are married, they are lovers still:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +De s'amie a feite sa fame,<br /> +Mais il l'apele amie et dame,<br /> +Que por ce ne pert ele mie<br /> +Que il ne l'aint come s'amie,<br /> +Et ele lui autresi<br /> +Con l'an doit feire son ami:<br /> +Et chascun jor lor amors crut,<br /> +N'onques cil celi ne mescrut,<br /> +Ne querela de nule chose.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 7.5em"><i>Cliges</i>, l. 6753.</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>This poem of Chrestien's is a collection of the finest specimens of +medieval rhetoric on the eternal theme. There is little incident, and +sensibility has it all its own way, in monologues by the actors and +digressions by the author, on the nature of love. It is rather the +sentiment than the passion that is here expressed in the "language of +the heart"; but, however that may be, there are both delicacy and +eloquence in the language. The pensive Fenice, who debates with +herself for nearly two hundred lines in one place (4410-4574), is the +ancestress of many later heroines.</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Meis Fenice est sor toz pansive;<br /> +Ele ne trueve fonz ne rive<br /> +El panser dont ele est anplie,<br /> +Tant li abonde et mouteplie.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 8em"><i>Cliges</i>, l. 4339.</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>In the later works of Chrestien, in <i>Yvain</i>, <i>Lancelot</i>, and +<i>Perceval</i>, there are new developments of romance,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> more particularly +in the story of Lancelot and Guinevere. But these three later stories, +unlike <i>Cliges</i>, are full of the British marvels, which no one would +wish away, and yet they are encumbrances to what we must regard as the +principal virtue of the poet—his skill of analysis in cases of +sentiment, and his interest in such cases. <i>Cliges</i>, at any rate, +however far it may come short of the <i>Chevalier de la Charrette</i> and +the <i>Conte du Graal</i> in variety, is that one of Chrestien's poems, it +might be said that one of the twelfth-century French romances, which +best corresponds to the later type of novel. It is the most modern of +them; and at the same time it does not represent its own age any the +worse, because it also to some extent anticipates the fashions of +later literature.</p> + +<p>In this kind of romance, which reduces the cost of the "machinery," +and does without enchanters, dragons, magic mists, and deadly castles, +there are many other examples besides <i>Cliges</i>.</p> + +<p>A hundred years after Chrestien, one of his cleverest pupils wrote the +Provençal story of <i>Flamenca</i>,<a name="FNanchor_88_88" id="FNanchor_88_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_88_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a> a work in which the form of the +novel is completely disengaged from the unnecessary accidents of +romance, and reaches a kind of positive and modern clearness very much +at variance in some respects with popular ideas of what is medieval. +The Romance of the medieval Romantic School attains one of its highest +and most distinctive points in <i>Flamenca</i>, and shows what it had been +aiming at from the beginning—namely, the expression in an elegant +manner of the ideas of the <i>Art of Love</i>, as understood in the polite +society of those times. <i>Flamenca</i> is nearly contemporary with the +<i>Roman de la Rose</i> of Guillaume de Lorris. Its inspiring ideas are the +same, and though its influence on succeeding authors is +indis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span>cernible, where that of the <i>Roman de la Rose</i> is widespread and +enduring, <i>Flamenca</i> would have as good a claim to be considered a +representative masterpiece of medieval literature, if it were not that +it appears to be breaking loose from medieval conventions where the +<i>Roman de la Rose</i> makes all it can out of them. <i>Flamenca</i> is a +simple narrative of society, with the indispensable three +characters—the husband, the lady, and the lover. The scene of the +story is principally at the baths of Bourbon, in the then present day; +and of the miracles and adventures of the more marvellous and +adventurous romances there is nothing left but the very pleasant +enumeration of the names of favourite stories in the account of the +minstrelsy at Flamenca's wedding. The author knew all that was to be +known in romance, of Greek, Latin, or British invention—Thebes and +Troy, Alexander and Julius Caesar, Samson and Judas Maccabeus, Ivain +and Gawain and Perceval, Paris and Tristram, and all Ovid's <i>Legend of +Good Women</i>—but out of all these studies he has retained only what +suited his purpose. He does not compete with the Greek or the British +champions in their adventures among the romantic forests. Chrestien of +Troyes is his master, but he does not try to copy the magic of the +Lady of the Fountain, or the Bridge of the Sword, or the Castle of the +Grail. He follows the doctrine of love expounded in Chrestien's +<i>Lancelot</i>, but his hero is not sent wandering at random, and is not +made to display his courtly emotions among the ruins and shadows of +the lost Celtic mythology, like Lancelot in Chrestien's poem. The life +described in <i>Flamenca</i> is the life of the days in which it was +composed; and the hero's task is to disguise himself as a clerk, so as +to get a word with the jealously-guarded lady in church on Sundays, +while giving her the Psalter to kiss after the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> Mass. <i>Flamenca</i>, is +really the triumph of Ovid, with the <i>Art of Love</i>, over all his +Gothic competitors out of the fairy tales. The Provençal poet has +discarded everything but the essential dominant interests, and in so +doing has gone ahead of his master Chrestien, who (except in <i>Cliges</i>) +allowed himself to be distracted between opposite kinds of story, +between the school of Ovid and the school of Blethericus; and who, +even in <i>Cliges</i>, was less consistently modern than his Provençal +follower.</p> + +<p><i>Flamenca</i> is the perfection and completion of medieval romance in one +kind and in one direction. It is all sentiment; the ideal courtly +sentiment of good society and its poets, made lively by the author's +knowledge of his own time and its manners, and his decision not to +talk about anything else. It is perhaps significant that he allows his +heroine the romance of <i>Flores and Blanchefleur</i> for her reading, an +older story of true lovers, after the simpler pattern of Greek +romance, which the author of <i>Flamenca</i> apparently feels himself +entitled to refer to with the condescension of a modern and critical +author towards some old-fashioned prettiness. He is completely +self-possessed and ironical with regard to his story. His theme is the +idle love whose origin is explained by Ovid; his personages are +nothing to him but the instruments of the symphony which he composes +and directs: <i>sopra lor vanità che par persona</i>, over and through +their graceful inanity, passes the stream of sentiment, the shifting, +flickering light which the Provençal author has borrowed from Ovid and +transferred for his own purposes to his own time. It is perhaps the +first complete modern appropriation of classical examples in literary +art; for the poem of <i>Flamenca</i> is classical in more than one sense of +the term—classical, not only because of its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> comprehension of the +spirit of the Latin poet and his code of manners and sentiment, but +because of its clear proportions and its definite abstract lines of +composition; because of the self-possession of the author and his +subordination of details and rejection of irrelevances.</p> + +<p>Many things are wanting to <i>Flamenca</i> which it did not suit the author +to bring in. It was left to other greater writers to venture on other +and larger schemes with room for more strength and individuality of +character, and more stress of passion, still keeping the romantic +framework which had been designed by the masters of the twelfth +century, and also very much of the sentimental language which the same +masters had invented and elaborated.</p> + +<p>The story of the <i>Chastelaine de Vergi</i><a name="FNanchor_89_89" id="FNanchor_89_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_89_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a> (dated by its editor +between 1282 and 1288) is an example of a different kind from +<i>Flamenca</i>; still abstract in its personages, still sentimental, but +wholly unlike <i>Flamenca</i> in the tragic stress of its sentiment and in +the pathos of its incidents. There is no plot in <i>Flamenca</i>, or only +just enough to display the author's resources of eloquence; in the +<i>Chastelaine de Vergi</i> there is no rhetorical expansion or effusion, +but instead of that the coherent closely-reasoned argument of a +romantic tragedy, with nothing in it out of keeping with the +conditions of "real life." It is a moral example to show the +disastrous result of breaking the first law of chivalrous love, which +enjoins loyal secrecy on the lover; the tragedy in this case arises +from the strong compulsion of honour under which the commandment is +transgressed.</p> + +<p>There was a knight who was the lover of the Chastelaine de Vergi, +unknown to all the world.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> Their love was discovered by the jealous +machinations of the Duchess of Burgundy, whom the knight had +neglected. The Duchess made use of her knowledge to insult the +Chastelaine; the Chastelaine died of a broken heart at the thought +that her lover had betrayed her; the knight found her dead, and threw +himself on his sword to make amends for his unwilling disloyalty. Even +a summary like this may show that the plot has capabilities and +opportunities in it; and though the scheme of the short story does not +allow the author to make use of them in the full detailed manner of +the great novelists, he understands what he is about, and his work is +a very fine instance of sensitive and clearly-executed medieval +narrative, which has nothing to learn (in its own kind, and granting +the conditions assumed by the author) from any later fiction.</p> + +<p>The story of the <i>Lady of Vergi</i> was known to Boccaccio, and was +repeated both by Bandello and by Queen Margaret of Navarre.</p> + +<p>It is time to consider how the work of the medieval romantic schools +was taken up and continued by many of the most notable writers of the +period which no longer can be called medieval, in which modern +literature makes a new and definite beginning; especially in the works +of the two modern poets who have done most to save and adapt the +inheritance of medieval romance for modern forms of +literature—Boccaccio and Chaucer.</p> + +<p>The development of romance in these authors is not always and in all +respects a gain. Even the pathetic stories of the <i>Decameron</i> (such as +the <i>Pot of Basil</i>, <i>Tancred and Gismunda</i>, <i>William of Cabestaing</i>) +seem to have lost something by the adoption of a different kind of +grammar, a more learned rhetoric, in comparison with the best of the +simple French<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> stories, like the <i>Chastelaine de Vergi</i>. This is the +case in a still greater degree where Boccaccio has allowed himself a +larger scale, as in his version of the old romance of <i>Flores and +Blanchefleur</i> (<i>Filocolo</i>), while his <i>Teseide</i> might be taken as the +first example in modern history of the pernicious effect of classical +studies. The <i>Teseide</i> is the story of Palamon and Arcita. The +original is lost, but it evidently was a French romance, probably not +a long one; one of the favourite well-defined cases or problems of +love, easily understood as soon as stated, presenting the rivalry of +the two noble kinsmen for the love of the lady Emily. It might have +been made into one of the stories of the <i>Decameron</i>, but Boccaccio +had other designs for it. He wished to write a classical epic in +twelve books, and not very fortunately chose this simple theme as the +groundwork of his operations. The <i>Teseide</i> is the first of the solemn +row of modern epics; "reverend and divine, abiding without motion, +shall we say that they have being?" Everything is to be found in the +<i>Teseide</i> that the best classical traditions require in epic—Olympian +machinery, catalogues of armies, descriptions of works of art to +compete with the Homeric and Virgilian shields, elaborate battles, and +epic similes, and funeral games. Chaucer may have been at one time +tempted by all this magnificence; his final version of the story, in +the <i>Knight's Tale</i>, is a proof among other things of his critical +tact. He must have recognised that the <i>Teseide</i>, with all its +ambition and its brilliancy of details, was a failure as a story; that +this particular theme, at any rate, was not well fitted to carry the +epic weight. These personages of romance were not in training for the +heavy classical panoply. So he reduced the story of Palamon and Arcita +to something not very different<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> from what must have been its original +scale as a romance. His modifications of Boccaccio here are a lesson +in the art of narrative which can hardly be overvalued by students of +that mystery.</p> + +<p>Chaucer's procedure in regard to his romantic subjects is often very +difficult to understand. How firm and unwavering his critical +meditations and calculations were may be seen by a comparison of the +<i>Knight's Tale</i> with its Italian source. At other times and in other +stories he appears to have worked on different principles, or without +much critical study at all. The <i>Knight's Tale</i> is a complete and +perfect version of a medieval romance, worked out with all the +resources of Chaucer's literary study and reflexion; tested and +considered and corrected in every possible way. The story of +<i>Constance</i> (the <i>Man of Law's Tale</i>) is an earlier work in which +almost everything is lacking that is found in the mere workmanship of +the <i>Knight's Tale</i>; though not, of course, the humanity, the pathos, +of Chaucer. The story of <i>Constance</i> appears to have been taken by +Chaucer from one of the least artificial specimens of medieval +romance, the kind of romance that worked up in a random sort of way +the careless sequence of incidents in a popular traditional tale. Just +as the tellers of the stories in Campbell's <i>Highland Tales</i>, and +other authentic collections, make no scruple about proportion where +their memory happens to fail them or their irrelevant fancy to +distract them, but go on easily, dropping out a symmetrical adventure +here and there, and repeating a favourite "machine" if necessary or +unnecessary; so the story of <i>Constance</i> forgets and repeats itself. +The voice is the voice of Chaucer, and so are the thoughts, but the +order or disorder of the story is that of the old wives' tales when +the old wives are drowsy. All the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> principal situations occur twice +over; twice the heroine is persecuted by a wicked mother-in-law, twice +sent adrift in a rudderless boat, twice rescued from a churl, and so +on. In this story the poetry of Chaucer appears as something almost +independent of the structure of the plot; there has been no such +process of design and reconstruction as in the <i>Knight's Tale</i>.</p> + +<p>It is almost as strange to find Chaucer in other stories, as in the +<i>Franklin's Tale</i> and the <i>Clerk's Tale</i>, putting up with the most +abstract medieval conventions of morality; the Point of Honour in the +<i>Franklin's Tale</i>, and the unmitigated virtue of Griselda, are +hopelessly opposed to anything like dramatic truth, and very far +inferior as motives to the ethical ideas of many stories of the +twelfth century. The truth of <i>Enid</i> would have given no opportunity +for the ironical verses in which Chaucer takes his leave of the Clerk +of Oxford and his heroine.</p> + +<p>In these romances Chaucer leaves some old medieval difficulties +unresolved and unreconciled, without attempting to recast the +situation as he found it in his authorities, or to clear away the +element of unreason in it. He takes the framework as he finds it, and +embroiders his poetry over it, leaving an obvious discrepancy between +his poetry and its subject-matter.</p> + +<p>In some other stories, as in the <i>Legend of Good Women</i>, and the tale +of Virginia, he is content with pathos, stopping short of vivid drama. +In the <i>Knight's Tale</i> he seems to have deliberately chosen a +compromise between the pathetic mood of pure romance and a fuller +dramatic method; he felt, apparently, that while the contrast between +the two rivals admitted of drama, the position of the lady<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> Emily in +the story was such as to prevent a full dramatic rendering of all the +characters. The plot required that the lady Emily should be left +without much share of her own in the action.</p> + +<p>The short and uncompleted poem of <i>Anelida</i> gains in significance and +comes into its right place in Chaucer's works, when it is compared +with such examples of the older school as the <i>Chastelaine de Vergi</i>. +It is Chaucer's essay in that delicate abstract fashion of story which +formed one of the chief accomplishments of the French Romantic School. +It is his acknowledgment of his debt to the artists of sensibility, +the older French authors, "that can make of sentiment," and it proves, +like all his writings, how quick he was to save all he could from the +teaching of his forerunners, for the profit of "that fair style that +has brought him honour." To treat a simple problem, or "case," of +right and wrong in love, was a favourite task of medieval courtly +poetry, narrative and lyric. Chaucer in his <i>Anelida</i> takes up this +old theme again, treating it in a form between narrative and lyric, +with the pure abstract melody that gives the mood of the actors apart +from any dramatic individuality. He is one of the Extractors of +Quintessence, and his <i>Anelida</i> is the formal spirit, impalpable yet +definite, of the medieval courtly romance.</p> + +<p>It is not here, but in a poem the opposite of this in fulness and +richness of drama, that Chaucer attains a place for himself above all +other authors as the poet who saw what was needed to transform +medieval romance out of its limitations into a new kind of narrative. +Chaucer's <i>Troilus and Criseyde</i> is the poem in which medieval romance +passes out of itself into the form of the modern novel. What Cervantes +and what Fielding did was done first by Chaucer;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> and this was the +invention of a kind of story in which life might be represented no +longer in a conventional or abstract manner, or with sentiment and +pathos instead of drama, but with characters adapting themselves to +different circumstances, no longer obviously breathed upon by the +master of the show to convey his own ideas, but moving freely and +talking like men and women. The romance of the Middle Ages comes to an +end, in one of the branches of the family tree, by the production of a +romance that has all the freedom of epic, that comprehends all good +and evil, and excludes nothing as common or unclean which can be made +in any way to strengthen the impression of life and variety. Chaucer +was not tempted by the phantasm of the Epic Poem like Boccaccio, and +like so many of the great and wise in later generations. The substance +of Epic, since his time, has been appropriated by certain writers of +history, as Fielding has explained in his lectures on that science in +<i>Tom Jones</i>. The first in the line of these modern historians is +Chaucer with his <i>Troilus and Criseyde</i>, and the wonder still is as +great as it was for Sir Philip Sidney:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Chaucer undoubtedly did excellently in his <i>Troylus</i> and +<i>Cresseid</i>; of whom, truly I know not whether to mervaile +more, either that he in that mistie time could see so +clearely, or that wee in this cleare age walke so +stumblingly after him.</p></div> + +<p>His great work grew out of the French Romantic School. The episode of +Troilus and Briseide in Benoit's <i>Roman de Troie</i> is one of the best +passages in the earlier French romance; light and unsubstantial like +all the work of that School, but graceful, and not untrue. It is all +summed up in the monologue of Briseide at the end of her story (l. +20,308):<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span>—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Dex donge bien a Troylus!<br /> +Quant nel puis amer ne il mei<br /> +A cestui<a name="FNanchor_90_90" id="FNanchor_90_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_90_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a> me done et otrei.<br /> +Molt voldreie aveir cel talent<br /> +Que n'eüsse remembrement<br /> +Des ovres faites d'en arriere:<br /> +Ço me fait mal à grant manière!<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>Boccaccio took up this story, from the Latin version of the Tale of +Troy, the <i>Historia Trojana</i> of Guido. His <i>Filostrato</i> is written on +a different plan from the <i>Teseide</i>; it is one of his best works. He +did not make it into an epic poem; the <i>Filostrato</i>, Boccaccio's +<i>Troilus and Cressida</i>, is a romance, differing from the older French +romantic form not in the design of the story, but in the new poetical +diction in which it is composed, and its new poetical ideas. There is +no false classicism in it, as there is in his <i>Palamon and Arcita</i>; it +is a novel of his own time, a story of the <i>Decameron</i>, only written +at greater length, and in verse. Chaucer, the "great translator," took +Boccaccio's poem and treated it in his own way, not as he had dealt +with the <i>Teseide</i>. The <i>Teseide</i>, because there was some romantic +improbability in the story, he made into a romance. The story of +Troilus he saw was strong enough to bear a stronger handling, and +instead of leaving it a romance, graceful and superficial as it is in +Boccaccio, he deepened it and filled it with such dramatic imagination +and such variety of life as had never been attained before his time by +any romancer; and the result is a piece of work that leaves all +romantic convention behind. The <i>Filostrato</i> of Boccaccio is a story +of light love, not much more substantial, except in its new poetical +language, than the story of <i>Flamenca</i>. In Chaucer the passion of +Troilus is something different from the sentiment of romance; the +changing mind of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> Cressida is represented with an understanding of the +subtlety and the tragic meaning of that life which is "Time's fool." +Pandarus is the other element. In Boccaccio he is a personage of the +same order as Troilus and Cressida; they all might have come out of +the Garden of the <i>Decameron</i>, and there is little to choose between +them. Chaucer sets him up with a character and a philosophy of his +own, to represent the world outside of romance. The Comic Genius +claims a share in the tragedy, and the tragedy makes room for him, +because the tragic personages, "Tragic Comedians" as they are, can +bear the strain of the contrast. The selection of personages and +motives is made in another way in the romantic schools, but this poem +of Chaucer's is not romance. It is the fulfilment of the prophecy of +Socrates, just before Aristophanes and the tragic poet had to be put +to bed at the end of the <i>Symposium</i>, that the best author of tragedy +is the best author of comedy also. It is the freedom of the +imagination, beyond all the limits of partial and conventional forms.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="APPENDIX" id="APPENDIX"></a>APPENDIX</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a name="NOTE_A"></a>Note A</span> (<a href="#Page_133">p. 133</a>)</h3> + +<h4><i>Rhetoric of the Western and Northern Alliterative Poems</i></h4> + +<p><span class="smcap">Any</span> page of the Anglo-Saxon poets, and of the "Elder Edda," will show +the difference between the "continuous" and the "discrete"—the +Western and the Northern—modes of the alliterative verse. It may be +convenient to select some passages here for reference.</p> + +<p>(1) As an example of the Western style ("the sense variously drawn out +from one verse to another"), the speech of the "old warrior" stirring +up vengeance for King Froda (<i>Beowulf</i>, l. 2041 <i>sq.</i>; see above, +<a href="#Page_70">p. +70</a>):—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +þonne cwið æt beore se ðe beah gesyhð,<br /> +eald æscwiga, se ðe eall geman<br /> +garcwealm gumena (him bið grim sefa)<br /> +onginneð geomormod geongum cempan<br /> +þurh hreðra gehygd higes cunnian,<br /> +wigbealu weccean, ond þæt word acwyð:<br /> +"Meaht ðu, min wine, mece gecnawan,<br /> +þone þin fæder to gefeohte bær<br /> +under heregriman, hindeman siðe,<br /> +dyre iren, þær hine Dene slogon,<br /> +weoldon wælstowe, syððan Wiðergyld læg<br /> +æfter hæleþa hryre, hwate Scyldingas?<br /> +Nu her þara banena byre nathwylces,<br /> +frætwum hremig, on flet gæð,<br /> +mordres gylpeð ond þone maðþum byreð<br /> +þone þe þu mid rihte rædan sceoldest!"<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span></p> + +<p>(The "old warrior"—no less a hero than Starkad himself, according to +Saxo—bears a grudge on account of the slaying of Froda, and cannot +endure the reconciliation that has been made. He sees the reconciled +enemies still wearing the spoils of war, arm-rings, and even Froda's +sword, and addresses Ingeld, Froda's son):—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Over the ale he speaks, seeing the ring,<br /> +the old warrior, that remembers all,<br /> +the spear-wrought slaying of men (his thought is grim),<br /> +with sorrow at heart begins with the young champion,<br /> +in study of mind to make trial of his valour,<br /> +to waken the havoc of war, and thus he speaks:<br /> +"Knowest thou, my lord? nay, well thou knowest the falchion<br /> +that thy father bore to the fray,<br /> +wearing his helmet of war, in that last hour,<br /> +the blade of price, where the Danes him slew,<br /> +and kept the field, when Withergyld was brought down<br /> +after the heroes' fall; yea, the Danish princes slew him!<br /> +See now, a son of one or other of the men of blood,<br /> +glorious in apparel, goes through the hall,<br /> +boasts of the stealthy slaying, and bears the goodly heirloom<br /> +that thou of right shouldst have and hold!"<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>(2) The Northern arrangement, with "the sense concluded in the +couplet," is quite different from the Western style. There is no need +to quote more than a few lines. The following passage is from the last +scene of <i>Helgi and Sigrun</i> (<i>C.P.B.</i>, i. p. 143; see +<a href="#Page_72">p. 72</a> +above—"Yet precious are the draughts," etc.):—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Vel skolom drekka dýrar veigar</span><br /> +þótt misst hafim munar ok landa:<br /> +skal engi maðr angr-lióð kveða,<br /> +þótt mer á briósti benjar líti.<br /> +Nú ero brúðir byrgðar í haugi,<br /> +lofða dísir, hjá oss liðnom.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>The figure of <i>Anadiplosis</i> (or the "Redouble," as it is called in the +<i>Arte of English Poesie</i>) is characteristic of a certain group of +Northern poems. See the note on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> this, with references, in <i>C.P.B.</i>, +i. p. 557. The poems in which this device appears are the poems of the +heroines (Brynhild, Gudrun, Oddrun), the heroic idylls of the North. +In these poems the repetition of a phrase, as in the Greek pastoral +poetry and its descendants, has the effect of giving solemnity to the +speech, and slowness of movement to the line.</p> + +<p>So in the <i>Long Lay of Brynhild</i> (<i>C.P.B.</i>, i. p. 296):—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +svárar sifjar, svarna eiða,<br /> +eiða svarna, unnar trygðir;<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>and (<i>ibid.</i>)—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +hann vas fyr utan eiða svarna,<br /> +eiða svarna, unnar trygðir;<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>and in the <i>Old Lay of Gudrun</i> (<i>C.P.B.</i>, i. p. 319)—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Hverr vildi mer hnossir velja<br /> +hnossir velja, ok hugat mæla.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>There are other figures which have the same effect:—</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Gott es at ráða Rínar malmi,<br /> +ok unandi auði styra,<br /> +ok sitjandi sælo nióta.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em"><i>C.P.B.</i>, i. p. 296.</span><br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>But apart from these emphatic forms of phrasing, all the sentences are +so constructed as to coincide with the divisions of the lines, whereas +in the Western poetry, Saxon and Anglo-Saxon, the phrases are made to +cut across the lines, the sentences having their own limits, +independent of the beginnings and endings of the verses.</p> + + +<p> </p> + + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a name="NOTE_B"></a>Note B</span> (<a href="#Page_205">p. 205</a>)</h3> + +<h4><i>The Meeting of Kjartan and King Olaf Tryggvason<br /> +</i> (<i>Laxdæla Saga</i>, c. +40)</h4> + +<p>Kjartan rode with his father east from Hjardarholt, and they parted in +Northwaterdale; Kjartan rode on to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> the ship, and Bolli, his kinsman, +went along with him. There were ten men of Iceland all together that +followed Kjartan out of goodwill; and with this company he rides to +the harbour. Kalf Asgeirsson welcomes them all. Kjartan and Bolli took +a rich freight with them. So they made themselves ready to sail, and +when the wind was fair they sailed out and down the Borg firth with a +gentle breeze and good, and so out to sea. They had a fair voyage, and +made the north of Norway, and so into Throndheim. There they asked for +news, and it was told them that the land had changed its masters; Earl +Hacon was gone, and King Olaf Tryggvason come, and the whole of Norway +had fallen under his sway. King Olaf was proclaiming a change of law; +men did not take it all in the same way. Kjartan and his fellows +brought their ship into Nidaros.</p> + +<p>At that time there were in Norway many Icelanders who were men of +reputation. There at the wharves were lying three ships all belonging +to men of Iceland: one to Brand the Generous, son of Vermund +Thorgrimsson; another to Hallfred the Troublesome Poet; the third ship +was owned by two brothers, Bjarni and Thorhall, sons of Skeggi, east +in Fleetlithe,—all these men had been bound for Iceland in the +summer, but the king had arrested the ships because these men would +not accept the faith that he was proclaiming. Kjartan was welcomed by +them all, and most of all by Brand, because they had been well +acquainted earlier. The Icelanders all took counsel together, and this +was the upshot, that they bound themselves to refuse the king's new +law. Kjartan and his mates brought in their ship to the quay, and fell +to work to land their freight.</p> + +<p>King Olaf was in the town; he hears of the ship's coming, and that +there were men in it of no small account. It fell out on a bright day +in harvest-time that Kjartan's company saw a number of men going to +swim in the river Nith. Kjartan said they ought to go too, for the +sport; and so they did. There was one man of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span> the place who was far +the best swimmer. Kjartan says to Bolli:</p> + +<p>"Will you try your swimming against this townsman?"</p> + +<p>Bolli answers: "I reckon that is more than my strength."</p> + +<p>"I know not what is become of your hardihood," says Kjartan; "but I +will venture it myself."</p> + +<p>"That you may, if you please," says Bolli.</p> + +<p>Kjartan dives into the river, and so out to the man that swam better +than all the rest; him he takes hold of and dives under with him, and +holds him under for a time, and then lets him go. After that they swam +for a little, and then the stranger takes Kjartan and goes under with +him, and holds him under, none too short a time, as it seemed to +Kjartan. Then they came to the top, but there were no words between +them. They dived together a third time, and were down longer than +before. Kjartan thought it hard to tell how the play would end; it +seemed to him that he had never been in so tight a place in his life. +However, they come up at last, and strike out for the land.</p> + +<p>Then says the stranger: "Who may this man be?"</p> + +<p>Kjartan told his name.</p> + +<p>The townsman said: "You are a good swimmer; are you as good at other +sports as at this?"</p> + +<p>Kjartan answers, but not very readily: "When I was in Iceland it was +thought that my skill in other things was much of a piece; but now +there is not much to be said about it."</p> + +<p>The townsman said: "It may make some difference to know with whom you +have been matched; why do you not ask?"</p> + +<p>Kjartan said: "I care nothing for your name."</p> + +<p>The townsman says: "For one thing you are a good man of your hands, +and for another you bear yourself otherwise than humbly; none the less +shall you know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> my name and with whom you have been swimming; I am +Olaf Tryggvason, the king."</p> + +<p>Kjartan makes no answer, and turns to go away. He had no cloak, but a +coat of scarlet cloth. The king was then nearly dressed. He called to +Kjartan to wait a little; Kjartan turned and came back, rather slowly. +Then the king took from his shoulders a rich cloak and gave it to +Kjartan, saying he should not go cloakless back to his men. Kjartan +thanks the king for his gift, and goes to his men and shows them the +cloak. They did not take it very well, but thought he had allowed the +king too much of a hold on him.</p> + +<p>Things were quiet for a space; the weather began to harden with frost +and cold. The heathen men said it was no wonder they had ill weather +that autumn; it was all the king's newfangledness and the new law that +had made the gods angry.</p> + +<p>The Icelanders were all together that winter in the town; and Kjartan +took the lead among them. In time the weather softened, and men came +in numbers to the town at the summons of King Olaf. Many men had taken +the Christian faith in Throndheim, but those were more in number who +were against it. One day the king held an assembly in the town, out on +the point of Eyre, and declared the Faith with many eloquent words. +The Thronds had a great multitude there, and offered battle to the +king on the spot. The king said they should know that he had fought +against greater powers than to think of scuffling with clowns in +Throndheim. Then the yeomen were cowed, and gave in wholly to the +king, and many men were christened; then the assembly broke up.</p> + +<p>That same evening the king sends men to the Icelanders' inn to observe +and find out how they talked. When the messengers came there, there +was a loud sound of voices within.</p> + +<p>Kjartan spoke, and said to Bolli: "Kinsman, are you willing to take +this faith of the king's?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am not," says Bolli, "for it seems to me a feeble, pithless thing."</p> + +<p>Says Kjartan: "Seemed the king to you to have no threats for those +that refused to accept his will?"</p> + +<p>Says Bolli: "Truly the king seemed to us to come out clearly and leave +no shadow on that head, that they should have hard measure dealt +them."</p> + +<p>"No man's underling will I be," says Kjartan, "while I can keep my +feet and handle a sword; it seems to me a pitiful thing to be taken +thus like a lamb out of the pen, or a fox out of the trap. I hold it a +far better choice, if one must die, to do something first that shall +be long talked of after."</p> + +<p>"What will you do?" says Bolli.</p> + +<p>"I will not make a secret of it," says Kjartan; "burn the king's +house, and the king in it."</p> + +<p>"I call that no mean thing to do," says Bolli; "but yet it will not +be, for I reckon that the king has no small grace and good luck along +with him; and he keeps a strong watch day and night."</p> + +<p>Kjartan said that courage might fail the stoutest man; Bolli answered +that it was still to be tried whose courage would hold out longest. +Then many broke in and said that this talk was foolishness; and when +the king's spies had heard so much, they went back to the king and +told him how the talk had gone.</p> + +<p>On the morrow the king summons an assembly; and all the Icelanders +were bidden to come. When all were met, the king stood up and thanked +all men for their presence, those who were willing to be his friends +and had taken the Faith. Then he fell to speech with the Icelanders. +The king asks if they will be christened. They make little sound of +agreement to that. The king said that they might make a choice that +would profit them less.</p> + +<p>"Which of you was it that thought it convenient to burn me in my +house?"</p> + +<p>Then says Kjartan: "You think that he will not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> have the honesty to +confess it, he that said this. But here you may see him."</p> + +<p>"See thee I may," says the king, "and a man of no mean imagination; +yet it is not in thy destiny to see my head at thy feet. And good +enough cause might I have to stay thee from offering to burn kings in +their houses in return for their good advice; but because I know not +how far thy thought went along with thy words, and because of thy +manly declaration, thou shalt not lose thy life for this; it may be +that thou wilt hold the Faith better, as thou speakest against it more +than others. I can see, too, that it will bring the men of all the +Iceland ships to accept the Faith the same day that thou art +christened of thine own free will. It seems to me also like enough +that thy kinsmen and friends in Iceland will listen to what thou +sayest when thou art come out thither again. It is not far from my +thought that thou, Kjartan, mayst have a better Faith when thou +sailest from Norway than when thou camest hither. Go now all in peace +and liberty whither you will from this meeting; you shall not be +penned into Christendom; for it is the word of God that He will not +have any come to Him save in free will."</p> + +<p>There was much approval of this speech of the king's, yet chiefly from +the Christians; the heathen men left it to Kjartan to answer as he +would. Then said Kjartan: "We will thank you, Sir, for giving us your +peace; this more than anything would draw us to accept your Faith, +that you renounce all grounds of enmity and speak gently altogether, +though you have our whole fortunes in your hand to-day. And this is in +my mind, only to accept the Faith in Norway if I may pay some small +respect to Thor next winter when I come to Iceland."</p> + +<p>Then answered the king, smiling: "It is well seen from the bearing of +Kjartan that he thinks he has better surety in his strength and his +weapons than there where Thor and Odin are."</p> + +<p>After that the assembly broke up.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a name="NOTE_C"></a>Note C</span> (<a href="#Page_257">p. 257</a>)</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Eyjolf Karsson</i>: an Episode in the History of Bishop +Gudmund Arason, <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1222 (from <i>Arons Saga Hjörleifssonar</i>, +c. 8, printed in <i>Biskupa Sögur</i>, i., and in <i>Sturlunga</i>, +ii. pp. 312-347).</p> + +<p>[Eyjolf Karsson and Aron stood by Bishop Gudmund in his +troubles, and followed him out to his refuge in the island +of Grimsey, lying off the north coast of Iceland, about 30 +miles from the mouth of Eyjafirth. There the Bishop was +attacked by the Sturlungs, Sighvat (brother of Snorri +Sturluson) and his son Sturla. His men were out-numbered; +Aron was severely wounded. This chapter describes how Eyjolf +managed to get his friend out of danger and how he went back +himself and was killed.]</p></div> + + +<p>Now the story turns to Eyjolf and Aron. When many of Eyjolf's men were +down, and some had run to the church, he took his way to the place +where Aron and Sturla had met, and there he found Aron sitting with +his weapons, and all about were lying dead men and wounded. It is +reckoned that nine men must have lost their lives there. Eyjolf asks +his cousin whether he can move at all. Aron says that he can, and +stands on his feet; and now they go both together for a while by the +shore, till they come to a hidden bay; there they saw a boat ready +floating, with five or six men at the oars, and the bow to sea. This +was Eyjolf's arrangement, in case of sudden need. Now Eyjolf tells +Aron that he means the boat for both of them; giving out that he sees +no hope of doing more for the Bishop at that time.</p> + +<p>"But I look for better days to come," says Eyjolf.</p> + +<p>"It seems a strange plan to me," says Aron; "for I thought that we +should never part from Bishop Gudmund in this distress; there is +something behind this, and I vow that I will not go unless you go +first on board."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That I will not, cousin," says Eyjolf; "for it is shoal water here, +and I will not have any of the oarsmen leave his oar to shove her off; +and it is far too much for you to go afoot with wounds like yours. You +will have to go on board."</p> + +<p>"Well, put your weapons in the boat," says Aron, "and I will believe +you."</p> + +<p>Aron now goes on board; and Eyjolf did as Aron asked him. Eyjolf waded +after, pushing the boat, for the shallows went far out. And when he +saw the right time come, Eyjolf caught up a battle-axe out of the +stern of the boat, and gave a shove to the boat with all his might.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Aron," says Eyjolf; "we shall meet again when God pleases."</p> + +<p>And since Aron was disabled with wounds, and weary with loss of blood, +it had to be even so; and this parting was a grief to Aron, for they +saw each other no more.</p> + +<p>Now Eyjolf spoke to the oarsmen and told them to row hard, and not to +let Aron come back to Grimsey that day, and not for many a day if they +could help it.</p> + +<p>They row away with Aron in their boat; but Eyjolf turns to the shore +again and to a boat-house with a large ferry-boat in it, that belonged +to the goodman Gnup. And at the same nick of time he sees the Sturlung +company come tearing down from the garth, having finished their +mischief there. Eyjolf takes to the boat-house, with his mind made up +to defend it as long as his doom would let him. There were double +doors to the boat-house, and he puts heavy stones against them.</p> + +<p>Brand, one of Sighvat's followers, a man of good condition, caught a +glimpse of a man moving, and said to his companions that he thought he +had made out Eyjolf Karsson there, and they ought to go after him. +Sturla was not on the spot; there were nine or ten together. So they +come to the boat-house. Brand asks who is there, and Eyjolf says it is +he.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then you will please to come out and come before Sturla," says Brand.</p> + +<p>"Will you promise me quarter?" says Eyjolf.</p> + +<p>"There will be little of that," says Brand.</p> + +<p>"Then it is for you to come on," says Eyjolf, "and for me to guard; and +it seems to me the shares are ill divided."</p> + +<p>Eyjolf had a coat of mail, and a great axe, and that was all.</p> + +<p>Now they came at him, and he made a good and brave defence; he cut +their pike-shafts through; there were stout strokes on both sides. And +in that bout Eyjolf breaks his axe-heft, and catches up an oar, and +then another, and both break with his blows. And in this bout Eyjolf +gets a thrust under his arm, and it came home. Some say that he broke +the shaft from the spear-head, and let it stay in the wound. He sees +now that his defence is ended. Then he made a dash out, and got +through them, before they knew. They were not expecting this; still +they kept their heads, and a man named Mar cut at him and caught his +ankle, so that his foot hung crippled. With that he rolls down the +beach, and the sea was at the flood. In such plight as he was in, +Eyjolf set to and swam; and swimming he came twelve fathoms from shore +to a shelf of rock, and knelt there; and then he fell full length upon +the earth, and spread his hands from him, turning to the East as if to +pray.</p> + +<p>Now they launch the boat, and go after him. And when they came to the +rock, a man drove a spear into him, and then another, but no blood +flowed from either wound. So they turn to go ashore, and find Sturla +and tell him the story plainly how it had all fallen out. Sturla held, +and other men too, that this had been a glorious defence. He showed +that he was pleased at the news.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span></p> + + +<h3><span class="smcap"><a name="NOTE_D"></a>Note D</span> (<a href="#Page_360">p. 360</a>)</h3> + +<h4><i>Two Catalogues of Romances</i></h4> + +<p>There are many references to books and cycles of romance in medieval +literature—minstrels' enumerations of their stock-in-trade, and +humorous allusions like those of Sir Thopas, and otherwise. There are +two passages, among others, which seem to do their best to cover the +whole ground, or at least to exemplify all the chief groups. One of +these is that referred to in the text, from <i>Flamenca</i>; the other is +to be found, much later, in the <i>Complaint of Scotland</i> (1549).</p> + +<p style="text-align: center"><b>I. <span class="smcap">Flamenca</span> (ll. 609-701)</b></p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tbody> +<tr> +<td> +Qui volc ausir diverses comtes<br /> +De reis, de marques e de comtes,<br /> +Auzir ne poc tan can si volc;<br /> +Anc null' aurella non lai colc,<br /> +Quar l'us comtet de Priamus,<br /> +E l'autre diz de Piramus;<br /> +L'us contet de la bell'Elena<br /> +Com Paris l'enquer, pois l'anmena;<br /> +L'autres comtava d'Ulixes,<br /> +L'autre d'Ector et d'Achilles;<br /> +L'autre comtava d'Eneas,<br /> +E de Dido consi remas<br /> +Per lui dolenta e mesquina;<br /> +L'autre comtava de Lavina<br /> +Con fes lo breu el cairel traire<br /> +A la gaita de l'auzor caire;<br /> +L'us contet d'Apollonices<br /> +De Tideu e d'Etidiocles;<br /> +L'autre comtava d'Apolloine<br /> +Comsi retenc Tyr de Sidoine;<br /> +L'us comtet del rei Alexandri<br /> +L'autre d'Ero et de Leandri;<br /> +L'us dis de Catmus quan fugi<br /> +Et de Tebas con las basti,<br /> +L'autre contava de Jason<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span>E del dragon que non hac son;<br /> +L'us comte d'Alcide sa forsa,<br /> +L'autre con tornet en sa forsa<br /> +Phillis per amor Demophon;<br /> +L'us dis com neguet en la fon<br /> +Lo bels Narcis quan s'i miret;<br /> +L'us dis de Pluto con emblet<br /> +Sa bella moillier ad Orpheu;<br /> +L'autre comtet del Philisteu<br /> +Golias, consi fon aucis<br /> +Ab treis peiras quel trais David;<br /> +L'us diz de Samson con dormi,<br /> +Quan Dalidan liet la cri;<br /> +L'autre comtet de Machabeu<br /> +Comen si combatet per Dieu;<br /> +L'us comtet de Juli Cesar<br /> +Com passet tot solet la mar,<br /> +E no i preguet Nostre Senor<br /> +Que nous cujes agues paor;<br /> +L'us diz de la Taula Redonda<br /> +Que no i venc homs que noil responda<br /> +Le reis segon sa conoissensa,<br /> +Anc nuil jorn ne i failli valensa;<br /> +L'autre comtava de Galvain,<br /> +E del leo que fon compain<br /> +Del cavallier qu'estors Luneta;<br /> +L'us diz de la piucella breta<br /> +Con tenc Lancelot en preiso<br /> +Cant de s'amor li dis de no;<br /> +L'autre comtet de Persaval<br /> +Co venc a la cort a caval;<br /> +L'us comtet d'Erec e d'Enida,<br /> +L'autre d'Ugonet de Perida;<br /> +L'us comtava de Governail<br /> +Com per Tristan ac grieu trebail,<br /> +L'autre comtava de Feniza<br /> +Con transir la fes sa noirissa<br /> +L'us dis del Bel Desconogut<br /> +E l'autre del vermeil escut<br /> +Que l'yras trobet a l'uisset;<br /> +L'autre comtava de Guiflet;<br /> +L'us comtet de Calobrenan,<br /> +L'autre dis con retenc un an<br /> +Dins sa preison Quec senescal<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span>Lo deliez car li dis mal;<br /> +L'autre comtava de Mordret;<br /> +L'us retrais lo comte Duret<br /> +Com fo per los Ventres faiditz<br /> +E per Rei Pescador grazits;<br /> +L'us comtet l'astre d'Ermeli,<br /> +L'autre dis com fan l'Ancessi<br /> +Per gein lo Veil de la Montaina;<br /> +L'us retrais con tenc Alamaina<br /> +Karlesmaines tro la parti,<br /> +De Clodoveu e de Pipi<br /> +Comtava l'us tota l'istoria;<br /> +L'autre dis con cazec de gloria<br /> +Donz Lucifers per son ergoil;<br /> +L'us diz del vallet de Nantoil,<br /> +L'autre d'Oliveir de Verdu.<br /> +L'us dis lo vers de Marcabru,<br /> +L'autre comtet con Dedalus<br /> +Saup ben volar, et d'Icarus<br /> +Co neguet per sa leujaria.<br /> +Cascus dis lo mieil que sabia.<br /> +Per la rumor dels viuladors<br /> +E per brug d'aitans comtadors<br /> +Hac gran murmuri per la sala.<br /> +</td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> + +<p>The allusions are explained by the editor, M. Paul Meyer. The stories +are as follows: Priam, Pyramus, Helen, Ulysses, Hector, Achilles, +Dido, Lavinia (how she sent her letter with an arrow over the +sentinel's head, <i>Roman d'Eneas</i>, l. 8807, <i>sq.</i>), Polynices, Tydeus, +and Eteocles; Apollonius of Tyre; Alexander; Hero and Leander; Cadmus +of Thebes; Jason and the sleepless Dragon; Hercules; Demophoon and +Phyllis (a hard passage); Narcissus; Pluto and the wife of Orpheus +("Sir Orfeo"); David and Goliath; Samson and Dalila; Judas Maccabeus; +Julius Caesar; the Round Table, and how the king had an answer for all +who sought him; Gawain and Yvain ("of the lion that was companion of +the knight whom Lunete rescued"<a name="FNanchor_91_91" id="FNanchor_91_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_91_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a>);<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> of the British maiden who kept +Lancelot imprisoned when he refused her love; of Perceval, how he rode +into hall; Ugonet de Perida (?); Governail, the loyal comrade of +Tristram; Fenice and the sleeping-draught (Chrestien's <i>Cliges</i>, see +<a href="#Page_357">p. 357</a>, above); Guinglain ("Sir Libeaus)"; Chrestien's <i>Chevalier de +la Charrette</i> ("how the herald found the red shield at the entry," an +allusion explained by M. Gaston Paris, in <i>Romania</i>, xvi. p. 101), +Guiflet, Calobrenan, Kay punished for his railing accusations; +Mordred; how the Count Duret was dispossessed by the Vandals and +welcomed by the Fisher King (?); the luck of Hermelin (?); the Old Man +of the Mountain and his Assassins; the Wars of Charlemagne; Clovis and +Pepin of France; the Fall of Lucifer; Gui de Nanteuil; Oliver of +Verdun; the Flight of Daedalus, and how Icarus was drowned through his +vanity. The songs of Marcabrun, the troubadour, find a place in the +list among the stories.</p> + +<p>The author of <i>Flamenca</i> has arranged his library, though there are +some incongruities; Daedalus belongs properly to the "matter of Rome" +with which the catalogue begins, and Lucifer interrupts the series of +<i>Chansons de geste</i>. The "matter of Britain," however, is all by +itself, and is well represented.</p> + +<p style="text-align: center"><b>II. <span class="smcap">The Complaynt of Scotland</span>, c. vi.</b></p> + +<p style="text-align: center">(Ed. J.A.H. Murray, <i>E.E.T.S.</i>, pp. 62-64)</p> + +<p>[This passage belongs to the close of the Middle Ages, when the old +epic and romantic books were falling into neglect. There is no +distinction here between literary romance and popular tales; the +once-fashionable poetical works are reduced to their original +elements. Arthur and Gawain are no more respected than the Red Etin, +or the tale of the <i>Well at the World's End</i> (the reading <i>volfe</i> in +the text has no defender); the Four Sons of Aymon have become what +they were afterwards<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span> for Boileau (<i>Ep.</i> xi. 20), or rather for +Boileau's gardener. But, on the whole, the list represents the common +medieval taste in fiction. The <i>Chansons de geste</i> have provided the +<i>Bridge of the Mantrible</i> (from <i>Oliver and Fierabras</i>, which may be +intended in the <i>Flamenca</i> reference to Oliver), and the <i>Siege of +Milan</i> (see <i>English Charlemagne Romances</i>, <i>E.E.T.S.</i>, part ii.), as +well as the <i>Four Sons of Aymon</i> and <i>Sir Bevis</i>. The Arthurian cycle +is popular; the romance of <i>Sir Ywain</i> (the Knight of the Lion) is +here, however, the only one that can be definitely traced in the +<i>Flamenca</i> list also, though of course there is a general +correspondence in subject-matter. The classical fables from Ovid are +still among the favourites, and many of them are common to both lists. +See Dr. Furnivall's note, in the edition cited, pp. lxxiii.-lxxxii.]</p> + +<p>Quhen the scheiphird hed endit his prolixt orison to the laif of the +scheiphirdis, i meruellit nocht litil quhen i herd ane rustic pastour +of bestialite, distitut of vrbanite, and of speculatioune of natural +philosophe, indoctryne his nychtbours as he hed studeit ptholome, +auerois, aristotel, galien, ypocrites, or Cicero, quhilk var expert +practicians in methamatic art. Than the scheiphirdis vyf said: my veil +belouit hisband, i pray the to desist fra that tideus melancolic +orison, quhilk surpassis thy ingyne, be rason that it is nocht thy +facultee to disput in ane profund mater, the quhilk thy capacite can +nocht comprehend. ther for, i thynk it best that ve recreat our selfis +vytht ioyus comonyng quhil on to the tyme that ve return to the scheip +fald vytht our flokkis. And to begin sic recreatione i thynk it best +that everie ane of vs tel ane gude tayl or fable, to pas the tyme +quhil euyn. Al the scheiphirdis, ther vyuis and saruandis, var glaid +of this propositione. than the eldest scheiphird began, and al the +laif follouit, ane be ane in their auen place. it vil be ouer prolixt, +and no les tideus to reherse them agane vord be vord. bot i sal +reherse sum of ther<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span> namys that i herd. Sum vas in prose and sum vas +in verse: sum vas stories and sum var flet taylis. Thir var the namis +of them as eftir follouis: the taylis of cantirberrye, Robert le +dyabil duc of Normandie, the tayl of the volfe of the varldis end, +Ferrand erl of Flandris that mareit the deuyl, the taiyl of the reyde +eyttyn vitht the thre heydis, the tail quhou perseus sauit andromada +fra the cruel monstir, the prophysie of merlyne, the tayl of the +giantis that eit quyk men, on fut by fortht as i culd found, vallace, +the bruce, ypomedon, the tail of the three futtit dug of norrouay, the +tayl quhou Hercules sleu the serpent hidra that hed vij heydis, the +tail quhou the king of est mure land mareit the kyngis dochtir of vest +mure land, Skail gillenderson the kyngis sone of skellye, the tail of +the four sonnis of aymon, the tail of the brig of the mantribil, the +tail of syr euan, arthour's knycht, rauf <span title="colyear">colȜear</span>, the seige of +millan, gauen and gollogras, lancelot du lac, Arthour knycht he raid +on nycht vitht gyltin spur and candil lycht, the tail of floremond of +albanye that sleu the dragon be the see, the tail of syr valtir the +bald leslye, the tail of the pure tynt, claryades and maliades, +Arthour of litil <span title="bertangye">bertangȜe</span>, robene hude and litil ihone, the +meruellis of mandiueil, the tayl of the <span title="yong">Ȝong</span> tamlene and of the +bald braband, the ryng of the roy Robert, syr egeir and syr gryme, +beuis of southamtoun, the goldin targe, the paleis of honour, the tayl +quhou acteon vas transformit in ane hart and syne slane be his auen +doggis, the tayl of Pirramus and tesbe, the tail of the amours of +leander and hero, the tail how Iupiter transformit his deir love yo in +ane cou, the tail quhou that iason van the goldin fleice, Opheus kyng +of portingal, the tail of the goldin appil, the tail of the thre veird +systirs, the tail quhou that dedalus maid the laborynth to keip the +monstir minotaurus, the tail quhou kyng midas gat tua asse luggis on +his hede because of his auereis.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="INDEX" id="INDEX"></a>INDEX</h2> + + +<p> +<i><a name="Aage">Aage</a></i>, Danish ballad, related to Helgi and Sigrun, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">cf. York Powell, <i>C.P.B.</i> i. 502, and <i>Grimm Centenary Papers</i> (1886), p. 47</span><br /> +<br /> +Achilles, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Aeneid</i>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, <a href="#Page_349">349</a><br /> +<br /> +Alboin the Lombard (O.E. Ælfwine, see <i><a href="#Davenant">Davenant</a></i>), <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a> n, <a href="#Page_189">189</a><br /> +<br /> +Alexander the Great, in old French poetry, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his <i>Epistle</i>; (Anglo-Saxon version), <a href="#Page_329">329</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Aliscans">Aliscans</a>, chanson de geste</i> of the cycle of William of Orange, <a href="#Page_296">296</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Alvíssmál</i>, in 'Elder Edda,' <a href="#Page_112">112</a><br /> +<br /> +Amadis of Gaul, a formal hero, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_203">203</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a><br /> +<br /> +Ammius (O.N. Hamðer): see <i><a href="#Hamthismal">Hamðismál</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Andreas</i>, old English poem on the legend of St. Andrew, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_329">329</a><br /> +<br /> +Andvari, <a href="#Page_115">115</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Angantyr</i>, the <i>Waking of</i>, poem in <i>Hervarar Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a> n<br /> +<br /> +<i>Apollonius of Tyre</i>, in Anglo-Saxon, <a href="#Page_329">329</a><br /> +<br /> +Ari Thorgilsson, called the Wise (Ari Fróði, <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1067-1148),<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his <i>Landnámabók</i> and <i>Konunga Æfi</i>, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Ynglinga Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_279">279</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Ariosto, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_323">323</a><br /> +<br /> +Aristotle on the dramatic element in epic, <a href="#Page_17">17</a> <i>sq.</i>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his summary of the <i>Odyssey</i>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_159">159</a> <i>sq.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Arnaldos, romance del Conde</i>, Spanish ballad, <a href="#Page_327">327</a><br /> +<br /> +Arni, Bishop of Skalholt (<i>ob.</i> 1298), his <i>Life</i> (<i>Arna Saga</i>), <a href="#Page_268">268</a><br /> +<br /> +Arni Beiskr (the Bitter), murderer of Snorri Sturluson, his death at Flugumyri, <a href="#Page_263">263</a><br /> +<br /> +Aron Hjörleifsson (<i>Arons Saga</i>), a friend of Bishop Gudmund, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Asbjörnsen, P. Chr., <a href="#Page_170">170</a> n<br /> +<br /> +Asdis, Grettir's mother, <a href="#Page_216">216</a> n<br /> +<br /> +Askel: see <i><a href="#Reykdaela">Reykdæla Saga</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Atlakviða</i>, the <i>Lay of Attila</i>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a> <i>sq.</i>: see <i> +<a href="#Attila">Attila</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Atlamál</i>, the <i>Greenland Poem of Attila</i>, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>-156: see <i> +<a href="#Attila">Attila</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Atli and Rimgerd, Contention of</i>, in 'Elder Edda,' <a href="#Page_113">113</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Atli">Atli</a> in <i>Grettis Saga</i>, his dying speech, <a href="#Page_218">218</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i>Hávarðar Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Attila">Attila</a> (O.E. Ætla, O.N. Atli), the Hun, adopted as a German hero in epic tradition, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">different views of him in epic, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i>Waltharius</i>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i>Waldere</i>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in the 'Elder Edda,' <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a> <i>sq.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Aucassin et Nicolette</i>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>, <a href="#Page_327">327</a><br /> +<br /> +Audoin the Lombard (O.E. Eadwine), father of Alboin, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Aymon, Four Sons of</i>, i.e. <i>Renaus de Montauban</i> (<i>chanson de geste</i>), <a href="#Page_313">313</a>, <a href="#Page_387">387</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Balder, death of, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Bandamanna">Bandamanna</a> Saga</i>, 'The Confederates,' <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_229">229</a>-234<br /> +<br /> +Beatrice the Duchess, wife of Begon de Belin, mother of Gerin and Hernaudin, <a href="#Page_307">307</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Begon de Belin, brother of Garin le Loherain, <i>q.v.</i><br /> +<br /> +Benoit de Sainte More, his <i>Roman de Troie</i>, <a href="#Page_330">330</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Beowulf">Beowulf</a></i>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a>, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>-175, <a href="#Page_290">290</a><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">and the <i>Odyssey</i>, <a href="#Page_10">10</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Beowulf</i> and the <i>Hêliand</i>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a><br /> +<br /> +Bergthora, Njal's wife, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Bernier: see <i><a href="#Raoul">Raoul de Cambrai</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Béroul: see <i><a href="#Tristram">Tristram</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Bevis, Sir</i>, <a href="#Page_388">388</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Biarkamál</i>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a><br /> +<br /> +Bjargey: see <i><a href="#Havarthar">Hávarðar Saga</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Bjorn, in <i>Njála</i>, and his wife, <a href="#Page_228">228</a>-229<br /> +<br /> +<a name="Blethericus">Blethericus</a>, a Welsh author, <a href="#Page_348">348</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Boccaccio">Boccaccio</a>, his relation to the French Romantic School, and to Chaucer, <a href="#Page_363">363</a>-370<br /> +<br /> +Bodvild, <a href="#Page_95">95</a><br /> +<br /> +Boethius <i>On the Consolation of Philosophy</i>, a favourite book, <a href="#Page_46">46</a><br /> +<br /> +Bolli, Gudrun's husband (<i>Laxdæla Saga</i>), <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a> <i>sq.</i>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">kills Kjartan, <a href="#Page_242">242</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Bolli the younger, son of Bolli and Gudrun, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>-224<br /> +<br /> +Bossu, on the Epic Poem, his opinion of Phaeacia, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a> n<br /> +<br /> +Bradley, Mr. Henry, on the first Riddle in the <i>Exeter Book</i>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a> (<i>Academy</i>, March 24, 1888, p. 198)<br /> +<br /> +Bréri, cited by Thomas as his authority for the story of Tristram: see <i> +<a href="#Blethericus">Blethericus</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Brink, Dr. Bernhard Ten, some time Professor at Strassburg, <a href="#Page_145">145</a>, <a href="#Page_290">290</a><br /> +<br /> +Broceliande visited by Wace, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Brunanburh</i>, poem of the battle of, <a href="#Page_76">76</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Brynhild">Brynhild</a>, sister of Attila, wife of Gunnar the Niblung, <i>passim</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">long <i>Lay of</i>, in the 'Elder Edda' (<i>al. Sigurðarkviða in Skamma</i>), <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a> <i>sq.</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Hell-ride of</i>, <a href="#Page_102">102</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">short <i>Lay of</i> (fragment), <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">lost poem concerning, paraphrased in <i>Volsunga Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Danish ballad of: see <i><a href="#Sivard">Sivard</a></i></span><br /> +<br /> +Bugge, Dr. Sophus, sometime Professor in Christiania, <a href="#Page_77">77</a> n, <a href="#Page_87">87</a> n, <a href="#Page_137">137</a> n<br /> +<br /> +<i>Byrhtnoth</i>: see <i><a href="#Maldon">Maldon</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>C.P.B.</i>, i.e. <i><a href="#Corpus">Corpus Poeticum Boreale</a></i>, q.v.<br /> +<br /> +Campbell, J.F., of Islay, <a href="#Page_170">170</a> n, <a href="#Page_340">340</a><br /> +<br /> +Casket of whalebone (the Franks casket), in the British Museum, subjects represented on it, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">runic inscriptions, <a href="#Page_49">49</a> (cf. Napier, in <i>An English Miscellany</i>, Oxford 1901)</span><br /> +<br /> +Charles the Great, Roman Emperor (Charlemagne), different views of him in French Epic, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i>Huon de Bordeaux</i> <a href="#Page_314">314</a> <i>sq.</i>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">history of, in Norwegian (<i>Karlamagnus Saga</i>), <a href="#Page_278">278</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Spanish (chap-book), <a href="#Page_297">297</a> n: see <i> +<a href="#Pelerinage">Pèlerinage de Charlemagne</a></i></span><br /> +<br /> +Charlot: see <i><a href="#Huon">Huon de Bordeaux</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Charroi">Charroi</a> de Nismes</i>, <i>chanson de geste</i> of the cycle of William of Orange, quoted, <a href="#Page_312">312</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Chaucer">Chaucer</a>, <a href="#Page_328">328</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a> n;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his relation to the French Romantic School, and to Boccaccio, <a href="#Page_363">363</a>-370</span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Chrestien">Chrestien</a> de Troyes, <a href="#Page_323">323</a>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his works,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Tristan</i> (lost), <a href="#Page_344">344</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Erec</i> (<i>Geraint and Enid</i>), <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a> <i>sq.</i>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Conte du Graal</i> (<i>Perceval</i>), <a href="#Page_327">327</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Cliges</i>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_387">387</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Chevalier de la Charrette</i> (<i>Lancelot</i>), <a href="#Page_341">341</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_387">387</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Yvain</i> (<i>Chevalier au Lion</i>), <a href="#Page_352">352</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_386">386</a> <i>sq.</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his influence on the author of <i>Flamenca</i>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a> <i>sq.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Codex Regius</i> (2365, 4to), in the King's Library, Copenhagen: see +<a href="#Edda"> <i>Edda, 'the Elder</i>'</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Comédie Humaine, la</i>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a><br /> +<br /> +Connla (the story of the fairy-bride): see <i><a href="#Guingamor">Guingamor</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Contract, Social, in Iceland, <a href="#Page_59">59</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Coronemenz">Coronemenz</a> Looïs</i>, <i>chanson de geste</i> of the cycle of William of Orange, quoted, <a href="#Page_311">311</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Corpus">Corpus</a> Poeticum Boreale</i>, ed. G. Vigfusson and F. York Powell, Oxford, 1883, <i>passim</i><br /> +<br /> +Corsolt, a pagan, <a href="#Page_311">311</a><br /> +<br /> +Cressida, in <i>Roman de Troie</i>, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the story treated in different ways by +<a href="#Boccaccio">Boccaccio</a> and <a href="#Chaucer">Chaucer</a>, <i>q.v.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +Cynewulf, the poet, <a href="#Page_51">51</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Cynewulf and Cyneheard</i> (English Chronicle, <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 755), <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a> n<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Dag, brother of Sigrun, <a href="#Page_72">72</a><br /> +<br /> +Dandie Dinmont, <a href="#Page_201">201</a><br /> +<br /> +Dante, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">his reference to William of Orange, <a href="#Page_296">296</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Dart, Song of the</i> (<i>Darraðarlióð</i>, Gray's 'Fatal Sisters'), <a href="#Page_78">78</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Davenant">Davenant</a>, Sir William, on the heroic poem (Preface to <i>Gondibert</i>), quoted, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">author of a tragedy, 'Albovine King of the Lombards,' <a href="#Page_67">67</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Deor's Lament</i>, old English poem, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a><br /> +<br /> +Drangey, island in Eyjafirth, north of Iceland, Grettir's refuge, <a href="#Page_196">196</a><br /> +<br /> +Dryden and the heroic ideal, <a href="#Page_30">30</a><br /> +<br /> +Du Bartas, <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span><i>Edda</i>, a handbook of the Art of Poetry, by Snorri Sturluson, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a><br /> +<br /> +'<a name="Edda">Edda</a>,' 'the Elder,' 'the Poetic,' 'of Sæmund the Wise' (<i>Codex Regius</i>), <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a> <i>passim</i><br /> +<br /> +Egil the Bowman, Weland's brother, represented on the Franks casket (Ægili), <a href="#Page_48">48</a><br /> +<br /> +Egil Skallagrimsson, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a><br /> +<br /> +Einar Thorgilsson: see <i><a href="#Sturla">Sturla of Hvamm</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Ekkehard, Dean of St. Gall, author of <i>Waltharius</i>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Elene</i>, by Cynewulf, an old English poem on the legend of St. Helen (the Invention of the Cross), <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_329">329</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Eneas, Roman d'</i>, <a href="#Page_386">386</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Enid</i>: see <i><a href="#Chrestien">Chrestien de Troyes</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Erec</i>: see <i><a href="#Chrestien">Chrestien de Troyes</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Eric the Red, his Saga in Hauk's book, <a href="#Page_47">47</a><br /> +<br /> +Ermanaric (O.E. Eormenríc, O.N. Jörmunrekr), <a href="#Page_22">22</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">killed by the brothers of Suanihilda, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>: see <i> +<a href="#Hamthismal">Hamðismál</a></i></span><br /> +<br /> +Erp: see <i><a href="#Hamthismal">Hamðismál</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Exodus</i>, old English poem of, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a><br /> +<br /> +Eyjolf Karsson, a friend of Bishop Gudmund, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a>, <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Eyjolf Thorsteinsson: see <i><a href="#Gizur">Gizur</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Eyrbyggja">Eyrbyggja</a> Saga</i>, the story of the men of Eyre, <a href="#Page_187">187</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>Færeyinga Saga</i>, the story of the men of the Faroes (Thrond of Gata and Sigmund Brestisson), <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a><br /> +<br /> +Faroese ballads, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a><br /> +<br /> +Fielding, Henry, <a href="#Page_266">266</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Fierabras</i>, <a href="#Page_388">388</a><br /> +<br /> +Finn: see <i><a href="#Finnesburh">Finnesburh</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Finnesburh">Finnesburh</a></i>, old English poem (fragment), published by Hickes from a Lambeth MS., now mislaid, <a href="#Page_81">81</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_265">265</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">episode in <i>Beowulf</i>, giving more of the story, <a href="#Page_81">81</a> <i>sq.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Fiölsvinnsmál</i> see <i><a href="#Svipdag">Svipdag</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Flamenca</i>, a Provençal romance, by a follower of Chrestien de Troyes, in the spirit of Ovid, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>-362;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">romances named in, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>, <a href="#Page_384">384</a>-387</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Flóamanna Saga</i>, the story of the people of Floi, <a href="#Page_259">259</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Flores et Blanchefleur</i>, romance, referred to in <i>Flamenca</i>, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">translated by Boccaccio (<i>Filocolo</i>), <a href="#Page_364">364</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Flosi the Burner, in <i>Njála</i>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Flugumyri, a homestead in Northern Iceland (Skagafjord), Earl Gizur's house, burned October 1253, the story as given by Sturla, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>-264<br /> +<br /> +<i>Fóstbræðra Saga</i> (the story of the two sworn brethren, Thorgeir and Thormod) <a href="#Page_38">38</a> n, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in Hauk's book, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">euphuistic interpolations in, <a href="#Page_275">275</a> <i>sq.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Frey">Frey</a>, poem of his wooing of Gerd (<i>Skirnismál</i>), in the 'Poetic Edda,' <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Frithiof the Bold</i>, a romantic Saga, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>, <a href="#Page_280">280</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Froda (Fróðá), homestead in Olafsvík, near the end of Snæfellsnes, Western Iceland, a haunted house, <i>Eyrbyggja Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Froda">Froda</a> (Frotho in Saxo Grammaticus), his story alluded to in <i>Beowulf</i>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a> n, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>, <a href="#Page_373">373</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Froissart and the courteous ideal, <a href="#Page_328">328</a><br /> +<br /> +Fromont, the adversary in the story of <i><a href="#Garin">Garin le Loherain</a></i>, <i>q.v.</i><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Galopin the Prodigal, in the story of <i>Garin le Loherain</i>, <a href="#Page_310">310</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Gareth</i>, in Malory's <i>Morte d'Arthur</i>, original of the Red Cross Knight in the <i>Faery Queene</i>, <a href="#Page_343">343</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Garin">Garin</a> le Loherain</i> (<i>chanson de geste</i>), <a href="#Page_53">53</a> n, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>-309<br /> +<br /> +Gawain killed dragons, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>: see <i><a href="#Walewein">Walewein</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Gawain and the Green Knight</i>, alliterative poem, <a href="#Page_180">180</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Gay Goshawk</i>, ballad of the, <a href="#Page_357">357</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Genesis</i>, old English poem of, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_136">136</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Geraint</i>, Welsh story, <a href="#Page_355">355</a><br /> +<br /> +Gerd: see <i><a href="#Frey">Frey</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Germania</i> of Tacitus, <a href="#Page_46">46</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Gísla Saga</i>, the story of Gisli the Outlaw, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">its relations to the heroic poetry, <a href="#Page_210">210</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Giuki (Lat. Gibicho, O.E. Gifica), father of <a href="#Gunnar">Gunnar</a>, +<a href="#Hogni">Hogni</a>, <a href="#Gothorm">Gothorm</a>, and +<a href="#Gudrun">Gudrun</a>, <i>q.v.</i><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Gizur">Gizur</a> Thorvaldsson, the earl, at Flugumyri, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_259">259</a>-264<br /> +<br /> +Glam (<i>Grettis Saga</i>), <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Glum">Glum</a> (<i>Víga-Glúms Saga</i>), <a href="#Page_193">193</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and <i>Raoul de Cambrai</i>, <a href="#Page_299">299</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Gollancz, Mr., <a href="#Page_135">135</a> (see <i>Academy</i>, Dec. 23, 1893, p. 572)<br /> +<br /> +<a name="Gothorm">Gothorm</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a><br /> +<br /> +Gray, his translations from the Icelandic, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a> n<br /> +<br /> +Gregory (St.) the Great, <i>de Cura Pastorali</i>, studied in Iceland, <a href="#Page_59">59</a><br /> +<br /> +Grendel, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>: see <i><a href="#Beowulf">Beowulf</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span><i>Grettis Saga</i>, the story of Grettir the Strong, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a> n, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a><br /> +<br /> +Grimhild, mother of Gudrun, <a href="#Page_110">110</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Grimild's Revenge</i>, Danish ballad (<i>Grimilds Hævn</i>), <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a><br /> +<br /> +Grimm, <a href="#Page_136">136</a> n;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">story of the <i>Golden Bird</i>, <a href="#Page_340">340</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wilhelm, <i>Deutsche Heldensage</i>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Grímnismál</i>, in 'Elder Edda,' <a href="#Page_112">112</a><br /> +<br /> +Gripir, Prophecy of (<i>Grípisspá</i>) in the 'Elder Edda,' a summary of the Volsung story, <a href="#Page_94">94</a><br /> +<br /> +Groa, wife of Earl <a href="#Gizur">Gizur</a>, <i>q.v.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Grógaldr</i>: see <i><a href="#Svipdag">Svipdag</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Grottasöngr</i> (Song of the Magic Mill), <a href="#Page_90">90</a><br /> +<br /> +Gudmund Arason, Bishop of Hólar, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a><br /> +<br /> +Gudmund, son of Granmar: see <i><a href="#Sinfiotli">Sinfiotli</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Gudmund the Mighty (Guðmundr inn Riki), in <i>Ljósvetninga</i> and other Sagas, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a><br /> +<br /> +Gudny, wife of <a href="#Sturla">Sturla of Hvamm</a>, <i>q.v.</i><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Gudrun">Gudrun</a> (O.N. Guðrún), daughter of Giuki, sister of Gunnar and Hogni, wife of Sigurd, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and Theodoric, the <i>Old Lay of Gudrun</i> (<i>Guðrúnarkviða in forna</i>), <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_109">109</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Lay of</i> (<i>Guðrúnarkviða</i>), <a href="#Page_111">111</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Lament of</i>, or <i>Chain of Woe</i> (<i>Tregrof Guðrúnar</i>), <a href="#Page_111">111</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Ordeal of</i>, <a href="#Page_111">111</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">daughter of Osvifr (<i>Laxdæla Saga</i>), <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>-224</span><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Guingamor">Guingamor</a>, Lay of</i>, by Marie de France, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>-340<br /> +<br /> +<i>Guinglain</i>, romance, by Renaud de Beaujeu: see <i><a href="#Libeaux">Libeaux Desconus</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Gundaharius">Gundaharius</a> (Gundicarius), the Burgundian (O.E. Gúðhere, O.N. Gunnarr; Gunther in the <i>Nibelungenlied</i>, etc.), <a href="#Page_22">22</a>: see <i> +<a href="#Gunnar">Gunnar</a></i>, <i><a href="#Gunther">Gunther</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Gunnar of Lithend (Hlíðarendi), in <i>Njáls Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his death, <a href="#Page_214">214</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Gunnar">Gunnar</a>, son of Giuki, brother of Gudrun, <a href="#Page_101">101</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_168">168</a> <i>sq.</i>: see <i> +<a href="#Gundaharius">Gundaharius</a></i>, <i><a href="#Gunther">Gunther</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Gunnlaug">Gunnlaug</a> the Poet, called Wormtongue, his story (<i>Gunnlaugs Saga Ormstungu</i>), <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Gunther">Gunther</a> (Guntharius, son of Gibicho) in <i>Waltharius</i>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a> <i>sq.</i>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i>Waldere</i>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>: see <i> +<a href="#Gundaharius">Gundaharius</a></i>, <i><a href="#Gunnar">Gunnar</a></i></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Hacon, King of Norway (<span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1217-1263): see <i> +<a href="#Hakonar">Hákonar Saga</a></i>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his taste for French romances, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Hadubrand, son of Hildebrand, <a href="#Page_81">81</a><br /> +<br /> +Hagen (Hagano), in <i>Waltharius</i>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Hagen">Hagen</a>, in <i>Waldere</i> (Hagena), <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_239">239</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">in <i><a href="#Sivard">Sivard</a></i>, <i>q.v.</i>: see <i> +<a href="#Hogni">Hogni</a></i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Hakonar">Hákonar</a> Saga</i>, the <i>Life</i> of Hacon, Hacon's son, King of Norway (<i>ob.</i> 1263), written by Sturla, contrasted with his history of Iceland, <a href="#Page_267">267</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Halfs Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_280">280</a><br /> +<br /> +Hall, son of Earl Gizur, <a href="#Page_259">259</a><br /> +<br /> +Hama, <a href="#Page_163">163</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Hamlet</i> in Saxo, <a href="#Page_70">70</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Hamthismal">Hamðismál</a></i> ('Poetic Edda'), Lay of the death of Ermanaric, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>-71, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, <a href="#Page_140">140</a><br /> +<br /> +Harald, king of Norway (Fairhair), <a href="#Page_58">58</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">in <i>Egils Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">king of Norway (Hardrada), killed dragons, <a href="#Page_168">168</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">his Saga referred to (story of Hreidar the Simple), <a href="#Page_310">310</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">(Varangian custom), <a href="#Page_329">329</a> n</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Harbarzlióð</i>: see <i><a href="#Thor">Thor</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Harðar Saga ok Holmverja</i>, the story of Hord and the men of the island, <a href="#Page_212">212</a> n<br /> +<br /> +Hauk's Book, an Icelandic gentleman's select library in the fourteenth century, <a href="#Page_47">47</a> <i>sq.</i> (<i>Hauksbók</i>, ed. Finnur Jónsson, 1892-1896)<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hávamál</i> in 'Poetic Edda,' a gnomic miscellany, <a href="#Page_77">77</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Havarthar">Hávarðar</a> Saga Isfirðings</i>, the story of Howard of Icefirth, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_216">216</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a><br /> +<br /> +Hearne, Thomas, <a href="#Page_78">78</a><br /> +<br /> +Hedin, brother of Helgi, Hiorvard's son, <a href="#Page_99">99</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Heitharviga">Heiðarvíga</a> Saga</i>, the story of the battle on the Heath (connected with <i>Eyrbyggja Saga</i>), <a href="#Page_209">209</a>: see <i> +<a href="#Viga-Styrr">Víga-Styrr</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Heiðreks Saga</i>: see <i><a href="#Hervarar">Hervarar Saga</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Heimskringla</i>, Snorri's <i>Lives of the Kings of Norway</i>, abridged, <a href="#Page_248">248</a><br /> +<br /> +Helgi and Kara, <a href="#Page_98">98</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Helgi">Helgi</a>, Hiorvard's son, and Swava, <a href="#Page_97">97</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_113">113</a><br /> +<br /> +Helgi Hundingsbane and Sigrun, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a> n, <a href="#Page_95">95</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_239">239</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Hêliand</i>, old Saxon poem on the Gospel history, using the forms of German heroic poetry, <a href="#Page_27">27</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a><br /> +<br /> +Hengest: see <i><a href="#Finnesburh">Finnesburh</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Heremod, <a href="#Page_162">162</a><br /> +<br /> +Herkja, <a href="#Page_111">111</a><br /> +<br /> +Hermes, in the Homeric hymn, <a href="#Page_43">43</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Hervarar">Hervarar</a> Saga ok Heiðreks Konungs</i> (<i>Heiðreks Saga</i>), one of the romantic mythical Sagas in Hauk's book, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>;<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1em;">contains the poems of the cycle of Angantyr, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_280">280</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Hervor, daughter of Angantyr, <a href="#Page_70">70</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a><br /> +<br /> +Heusler, Dr. Andreas, Professor in Berlin, <a href="#Page_100">100</a> n<br /> +<br /> +Hialli, <a href="#Page_151">151</a><br /> +<br /> +Hickes, George, D.D., <a href="#Page_73">73</a> n, <a href="#Page_78">78</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Hildebrand, Lay of</i>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a> n, <a href="#Page_91">91</a><br /> +<br /> +Hildeburg: see <i><a href="#Finnesburh">Finnesburh</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Hildegund (Hildegyth), <a href="#Page_84">84</a> <i>sq.</i>: see <i> +<a href="#Walter">Walter</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Hnæf: see <i><a href="#Finnesburh">Finnesburh</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Hobs, Mr. (<i>i.e.</i> Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury), <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> +<br /> +Hodbrodd, in story of Helgi and Sigrun, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a><br /> +<br /> +Hogni, father of Sigrun, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Hogni">Hogni</a>, son of Giuki, brother of Gunnar, Gothorm, and Gudrun, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a> <i>sq.</i>: see <i> +<a href="#Hagen">Hagen</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Homeric analogies in medieval literature, <a href="#Page_9">9</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Hrafn Sveinbjarnarson, a friend of Bishop Gudmund, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Hrafns Saga</i> quoted, <a href="#Page_38">38</a> n</span><br /> +<br /> +Hrafn: see <i><a href="#Gunnlaug">Gunnlaug</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Hrafnkels Saga Freysgoða</i>, the story of Hrafnkel, Frey's Priest, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a><br /> +<br /> +Hrefna, Kjartan's wife, <a href="#Page_223">223</a><br /> +<br /> +Hreidar the Simple, an unpromising hero, in <i>Haralds Saga Harðráða</i>, <a href="#Page_310">310</a><br /> +<br /> +Hrolf Kraki (Hroðulf in <i>Beowulf</i>), <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_280">280</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Hromund Greipsson</i>, Saga of, <a href="#Page_99">99</a><br /> +<br /> +Hrothgar, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>.<br /> +<br /> +Hunding, <a href="#Page_95">95</a><br /> +<br /> +Hunferth, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Huon">Huon</a> de Bordeaux</i> (<i>chanson de geste</i>), epic and romance combined inartistically in, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>-317<br /> +<br /> +Hurd's <i>Letters on Chivalry and Romance</i>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a><br /> +<br /> +Hygelac, <a href="#Page_161">161</a> <i>sq.</i>: see <i><a href="#Beowulf">Beowulf</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Hymiskviða</i>: see <i><a href="#Thor">Thor</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Ibsen, Henrik, his <i>Hærmændene paa Helgeland</i> (<i>Warriors in Helgeland</i>), a drama founded on the Volsung story, its relation to <i>Laxdæla Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his <i>Kongsemnerne</i> (<i>Rival Kings</i>, Hacon and Skule), <a href="#Page_268">268</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Ider</i>, romance, <a href="#Page_331">331</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_347">347</a> n<br /> +<br /> +<i>Iliad</i>, <a href="#Page_11">11</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_162">162</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>, <a href="#Page_352">352</a> n<br /> +<br /> +Ingeld: see <i><a href="#Froda">Froda</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Ingibjorg, daughter of Sturla, her wedding at Flugumyri, <a href="#Page_259">259</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Intelligenza, L'</i>, <a href="#Page_386">386</a> n<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Jehoram, son of Ahab, in the famine of Samaria, <a href="#Page_239">239</a><br /> +<br /> +Johnson, Dr., <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Joinville">Joinville</a>, Jean de, Seneschal of Champagne, his <i>Life of St. Louis</i> compared with Icelandic prose history, <a href="#Page_269">269</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Jón Arason the poet, Bishop of Hólar, the last Catholic Bishop in Iceland, beheaded by Reformers, 7th November 1550, a notable character, <a href="#Page_268">268</a><br /> +<br /> +Jordanes, historian of the Goths, his version of the story of <i>Ermanaric</i>, its relation to <i>Hamðismál</i>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Judith</i>, old English poem of, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a><br /> +<br /> +Julian, the Emperor, his opinion of German songs, <a href="#Page_65">65</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Kara, <a href="#Page_98">98</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Kari, in <i>Njála</i>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and Bjorn, <a href="#Page_228">228</a>-229</span><br /> +<br /> +Karl Jónsson, Abbot of Thingeyri in Iceland, author of <i>Sverris Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a><br /> +<br /> +Kjartan, son of Olaf the Peacock (<i>Laxdæla Saga</i>), <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_204">204</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his death, <a href="#Page_240">240</a> <i>sq.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Königskinder, die</i>, German ballad, <a href="#Page_327">327</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Kormaks Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a> n, <a href="#Page_281">281</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>Lancelot</i>, the French prose romance, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Landnámabók</i>, in Hauk's book, <a href="#Page_47">47</a><br /> +<br /> +Laurence, Bishop of Hólar (<i>ob.</i> 1331), his <i>Life</i> (<i>Laurentius Saga</i>), <a href="#Page_268">268</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Laxdaela">Laxdæla</a> Saga</i>, the story of Laxdale (<i>the Lovers of the Gudrun</i>), <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a new version of the Niblung story, <a href="#Page_209">209</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Leconte de Lisle, <i>L'Epée d'Angantyr</i>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a> n<br /> +<br /> +Lessing's <i>Laocoon</i>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Libeaux">Libeaux</a> Desconus</i>, romance in different versions—French, by Renaud de Beaujeu (<i>Guinglain</i>), <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_343">343</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_387">387</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">English, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Italian (<i>Carduino</i>), <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_343">343</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Ljósvetninga Saga</i>, story of the House of Ljósavatn, <a href="#Page_188">188</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Lokasenna</i> (the Railing of Loki), <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_113">113</a><br /> +<br /> +Longnon, Auguste, <a href="#Page_314">314</a> n<br /> +<br /> +Louis IX., king of France (St. Louis): see <i><a href="#Joinville">Joinville</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Lusiad</i>, the, a patriotic epic, unlike the poetry of the 'heroic age,' <a href="#Page_22">22</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Macrobius, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span><i><a name="Maldon">Maldon</a></i>, poem of the battle of (<span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 991), <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a> n, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">compared with the <i>Iliad</i>, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">compared with <i>Roland</i>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Malory">Malory</a>, Sir Thomas, his <i>Morte d'Arthur</i>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Mantrible, Bridge of the</i>, <a href="#Page_388">388</a><br /> +<br /> +Marie de France, her <i>Lays</i> translated into Norwegian (<i>Strengleikar</i>), <a href="#Page_278">278</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Guingamor</i> criticised, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>-340</span><br /> +<br /> +Marino, <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> +<br /> +Martianus Capella, <i>de Nuptiis Philologiae</i>, studied in the Middle Ages, <a href="#Page_47">47</a><br /> +<br /> +Medea, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, <a href="#Page_347">347</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Menglad, Rescue of</i>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>: see <i> +<a href="#Svipdag">Svipdag</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Mephistopheles in Thessaly, <a href="#Page_10">10</a><br /> +<br /> +Meyer, Paul, <a href="#Page_290">290</a> n, <a href="#Page_359">359</a> n, <a href="#Page_386">386</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Milan, Siege of</i>, <a href="#Page_388">388</a><br /> +<br /> +Mimming, the sword of Weland, <a href="#Page_86">86</a><br /> +<br /> +Morris, William, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Mort Arthure</i>, alliterative poem, <a href="#Page_180">180</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Mort Artus</i>, French prose romance, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Morte d'Arthur</i>: see <i><a href="#Malory">Malory</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>Nibelungenlied</i>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a><br /> +<br /> +Niblung story, its relation to historical fact, <a href="#Page_22">22</a> <i>sq.</i>: see <i> +<a href="#Gunnar">Gunnar</a></i>, <i><a href="#Hogni">Hogni</a></i>, <i> +<a href="#Gudrun">Gudrun</a></i>, <i><a href="#Laxdaela">Laxdæla Saga</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Nidad, <a href="#Page_95">95</a><br /> +<br /> +Njal, story of (<i>Njála</i>), <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>-221<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Oberon; see <i><a href="#Huon">Huon de Bordeaux</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Odd, Arrow (Örvar-Oddr), <a href="#Page_73">73</a><br /> +<br /> +Oddrun, sister of Brynhild and Attila, <a href="#Page_102">102</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Lament of</i> (<i>Oddrúnargrátr</i>), in the 'Elder Edda,' <a href="#Page_103">103</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a> <i>sq.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +Odd Ufeigsson: see <i><a href="#Bandamanna">Bandamanna Saga</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Odoacer, referred to in <i>Lay of Hildebrand</i>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a><br /> +<br /> +Odysseus, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_32">32</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Odyssey</i>, the, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Aristotle's summary of, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">romance in, <a href="#Page_32">32</a> <i>sq.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +Olaf Tryggvason, king of Norway, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Olkofra Þáttr</i>, the story of Alecap, related to <i>Bandamanna Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a><br /> +<br /> +Ossian, in the land of youth: see <i><a href="#Guingamor">Guingamor</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Ovid in the Middle Ages, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_346">346</a>, <span title="Transcriber's Note: No page 412 in original.">412</span>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Ovidius Epistolarum</i> studied in Iceland, <a href="#Page_59">59</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Ovid's story of Medea, translated in the <i>Roman de Troie</i>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a> <i>sq.</i>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Heroides</i> became the 'Saints' Legend of Cupid,' <a href="#Page_347">347</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Paris, Gaston, <a href="#Page_290">290</a>, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a> n, <a href="#Page_387">387</a><br /> +<br /> +Paulus Diaconus, heroic stories in the Lombard history, <a href="#Page_66">66</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Peer Gynt, <a href="#Page_170">170</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Pelerinage">Pèlerinage</a> de Charlemagne</i> (<i>chanson de geste</i>), <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>, <a href="#Page_329">329</a><br /> +<br /> +Percy, Thomas, D.D., <i>Five Pieces of Runic Poetry</i>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a> n, <a href="#Page_141">141</a> n<br /> +<br /> +Phaeacia, Odysseus in, Bossu's criticism, <a href="#Page_31">31</a><br /> +<br /> +Pindar, his treatment of myths, <a href="#Page_43">43</a><br /> +<br /> +Poitiers, William IX., Count of, his poem on setting out for the Crusade, <a href="#Page_317">317</a><br /> +<br /> +Powell, F. York, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>: see <i><a href="#Aage">Aage</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Prise">Prise</a> d'Orange</i>, <i>chanson de geste</i> of the cycle of William of Orange, in substance a romance of adventure, <a href="#Page_313">313</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>Queste del St. Graal</i>, French prose romance, a contrast to the style of Chrestien de Troyes, <a href="#Page_327">327</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Ragnar Lodbrok, his Death-Song (<i>Krákumál</i>), <a href="#Page_140">140</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>, <a href="#Page_295">295</a><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Rainouart">Rainouart</a>, the gigantic ally of William of Orange, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">their names associated by Dante (<i>Par.</i> xviii. 46), <i>ibid.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Raoul">Raoul</a> de Cambrai</i> (<i>chanson de geste</i>), <a href="#Page_291">291</a> n, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>-300, <a href="#Page_309">309</a><br /> +<br /> +Rastignac, Eugène de, <a href="#Page_188">188</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Reykdaela">Reykdæla</a> Saga</i>, the story of Vemund, Askel, and Skuta son of Askel, connected with the story of Glum, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a><br /> +<br /> +Rigaut, son of Hervi the Villain, in the story of <i>Garin le Loherain</i>, <a href="#Page_310">310</a><br /> +<br /> +Rimgerd the Giantess: see <i><a href="#Atli">Atli</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Rímur</i>, Icelandic rhyming romances, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Roland, Chanson de</i>, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>-295, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">compared with <i>Byrhtnoth</i> (<i>Maldon</i>), <a href="#Page_54">54</a> <i>sq.</i>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">with an incident in <i>Njála</i>, <a href="#Page_265">265</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Roman de la Rose</i>, of Guillaume de Lorris, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>, <a href="#Page_352">352</a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Rood, Dream of the</i>, old English poem, <a href="#Page_134">134</a><br /> +<br /> +Rosamund and Alboin in the Lombard history, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Rosmunda</i>, a tragedy, by Rucellai, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Rou, Roman de</i>, the author's visit to Broceliande, <a href="#Page_26">26</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Sam (Sámr), Gunnar's dog, <a href="#Page_214">214</a><br /> +<br /> +Sarpedon's address to Glaucus, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_11">11</a><br /> +<br /> +Sarus and Ammius (Sorli and Hamther), brothers of Suanihilda (Jordanes), <a href="#Page_66">66</a>: see <i> +<a href="#Hamthismal">Hamðismál</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span>Saxo Grammaticus, <a href="#Page_69">69</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>, <a href="#Page_374">374</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Scotland, Complaynt of</i>, romances named in, <a href="#Page_387">387</a>-389<br /> +<br /> +<i>Scottish Field</i>, alliterative poem on Flodden, <a href="#Page_179">179</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Shakespeare, his treatment of popular tales, <a href="#Page_36">36</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Sibyl's Prophecy</i>: see <i><a href="#Volospa">Volospá</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Sidney, Sir Philip, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>, <a href="#Page_368">368</a><br /> +<br /> +Sievers, Dr. Eduard, Professor in Leipzig, <a href="#Page_136">136</a> n, <a href="#Page_169">169</a> n<br /> +<br /> +Sigmund Brestisson, in <i>Færeyinga Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_283">283</a><br /> +<br /> +Sigmund, father of Sinfiotli, Helgi, and Sigurd, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>, <a href="#Page_110">110</a><br /> +<br /> +Signild: see <i><a href="#Sivard">Sivard</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Sigrdrifa, <a href="#Page_115">115</a><br /> +<br /> +Sigrun: see <i><a href="#Helgi">Helgi</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Sigurd, the Volsung (O.N. Sigurðr), <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_100">100</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">fragmentary <i>Lay of</i> (<i>Brot af Sigurðarkviðu</i>), <a href="#Page_103">103</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Lay of</i>: see <i><a href="#Brynhild">Brynhild</a></i></span><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Sinfiotli">Sinfiotli</a>, debate of, and Gudmund, <a href="#Page_96">96</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Sivard">Sivard</a> og Brynild</i>, Danish ballad, translated, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>-129<br /> +<br /> +<a name="Skallagrim">Skallagrim</a>, how he told the truth to King Harald, <a href="#Page_192">192</a><br /> +<br /> +Skarphedinn, son of Njal, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_265">265</a><br /> +<br /> +Skirnir: see <i><a href="#Frey">Frey</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Skule, Duke, the rival of Hacon, <a href="#Page_267">267</a><br /> +<br /> +Skuta: see <i><a href="#Reykdaela">Reykdæla Saga</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Snorri Sturluson (<span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1178-1241), author of the <i>Edda</i>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">and of the <i>Lives of the Kings of Norway</i>, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his murder avenged at Flugumyri, <a href="#Page_263">263</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Snorri the Priest (Snorri Goði), in <i>Eyrbyggja</i> and other Sagas, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Sonatorrek</i> (the Sons' Loss), poem by Egil Skallagrimsson, <a href="#Page_215">215</a><br /> +<br /> +Sorli: see <i><a href="#Hamthismal">Hamðismál</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Spenser, <a href="#Page_343">343</a><br /> +<br /> +Starkad, <a href="#Page_166">166</a>, <a href="#Page_374">374</a><br /> +<br /> +Stephens, George, sometime Professor in Copenhagen, <a href="#Page_78">78</a><br /> +<br /> +Stevenson, R.L., <i>Catriona</i>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a> n<br /> +<br /> +<a name="Sturla">Sturla</a> of Hvamm (Hvamm-Sturla), founder of the house of the Sturlungs, his life (<i>Sturlu Saga</i>) <a href="#Page_253">253</a>-256<br /> +<br /> +Sturla (<i>c.</i> <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1214-1284), son of Thord, and grandson of Hvamm-Sturla, nephew of Snorri, author of <i> +<a href="#Sturlunga">Sturlunga Saga</a></i> (<i>q.v.</i>) and of <i> +<a href="#Hakonar">Hákonar Saga</a></i> (<i>q.v.</i>) <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>, <a href="#Page_259">259</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Sturlunga">Sturlunga</a> Saga</i> (more accurately <i>Islendinga Saga</i>), of Sturla, Thord's son, a history of the author's own times, using the forms of the heroic Sagas, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_249">249</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Suanihilda: see <i><a href="#Swanhild">Swanhild</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Svarfdæla Saga</i>, the story of the men of Swarfdale (<i>Svarfaðardalr</i>), <a href="#Page_219">219</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Sveidal">Sveidal</a>, Ungen</i>, Danish ballad, on the story of Svipdag and Menglad, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>, <a href="#Page_126">126</a><br /> +<br /> +Sverre, king of Norway (<i>ob.</i> 1202), his <i>Life</i> (<i>Sverris Saga</i>) written by Abbot Karl Jónsson at the king's dictation, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">quotes a Volsung poem, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Svipdag">Svipdag</a> and Menglad</i>, old Northern poems of, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a> <i>sq.</i>: see <i> +<a href="#Sveidal">Sveidal</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Swanhild">Swanhild</a> (O.N. Svanhildr), daughter of Sigurd and Gudrun, her cruel death; the vengeance on Ermanaric known to Jordanes in the sixth century, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>: see <i> +<a href="#Hamthismal">Hamðismál</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Tasso, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his critical essays on heroic poetry, <a href="#Page_30">30</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Tegnér, Esaias, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his <i>Frithiofs Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Tennyson, <i>Enid</i>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a><br /> +<br /> +Theodoric (O.N. Þióðrekr), a hero of Teutonic epic in different dialects, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">fragment of Swedish poem on, inscription on stone at Rök, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>: see <i> +<a href="#Gudrun">Gudrun</a></i></span><br /> +<br /> +Thersites, <a href="#Page_243">243</a><br /> +<br /> +Thidrandi, whom the goddesses slew, <a href="#Page_208">208</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Þidreks Saga</i> (thirteenth century), a Norwegian compilation from North German ballads on heroic subjects, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a><br /> +<br /> +Thomas: see <i><a href="#Tristram">Tristram</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Thor">Thor</a>, in old Northern literature, his Fishing for the World Serpent (<i>Hymiskviða</i>), <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">the Winning of the Hammer (<i>Þrymskviða</i>), <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Danish ballad of, <a href="#Page_125">125</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the contention of, and Odin (<i>Harbarzlióð</i>), <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_113">113</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Thorarin, in <i>Eyrbyggja</i>, the quiet man, <a href="#Page_227">227</a><br /> +<br /> +Thorgils and Haflidi (<i>Þorgils Saga ok Hafliða</i>), <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Thorkell Hake, in <i>Ljósvetinga Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a><br /> +<br /> +Thorolf Bægifot: see <i><a href="#Eyrbyggja">Eyrbyggja</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Thorolf, Kveldulf's son: see <i><a href="#Skallagrim">Skallagrim</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Þorsteins Saga Hvíta</i>, the story of Thorstein the White, points of resemblance to <i>Laxdæla</i> and <i>Gunnlaugs Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a><br /> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span><i>Þorsteins Saga Stangarhöggs</i> (Thorstein Staffsmitten), a short story, <a href="#Page_282">282</a><br /> +<br /> +Thrond of Gata (<i>Færeyinga Saga</i>), <a href="#Page_245">245</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Þrymskviða</i>: see <i><a href="#Thor">Thor</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Thrytho, <a href="#Page_162">162</a><br /> +<br /> +Thurismund, son of Thurisvend, king of the Gepidae, killed by Alboin, <a href="#Page_67">67</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Tirant lo Blanch</i> (Tirant the White, Romance of), <a href="#Page_38">38</a> n;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a moral work, <a href="#Page_222">222</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Trissino, author of <i>Italia liberata dai Goti</i>, a correct epic poem, <a href="#Page_30">30</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Tristram">Tristram</a> and Iseult</i>, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>, Anglo-Norman poems, by Béroul and Thomas, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of Chrestien (lost), <i>ibid.</i></span><br /> +<br /> +Troilus, <a href="#Page_368">368</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Troy, Destruction of</i>, alliterative poem, <a href="#Page_180">180</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +Ufeig: see <i><a href="#Bandamanna">Bandamanna Saga</a></i><br /> +<br /> +Uistean Mor mac Ghille Phadrig, <a href="#Page_170">170</a><br /> +<br /> +Uspak: see <i><a href="#Bandamanna">Bandamanna Saga</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>Vafþrúðnismál</i>, mythological poem in 'Elder Edda,' <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a><br /> +<br /> +Vali: see <i><a href="#Bandamanna">Bandamanna Saga</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Vápnfirðinga Saga</i>, the story of Vopnafjord, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Vatnsdæla Saga</i>, story of the House of Vatnsdal, <a href="#Page_189">189</a><br /> +<br /> +Vemund: see <i><a href="#Reykdaela">Reykdæla Saga</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Vergi, la Chastelaine de</i>, a short tragic story, <a href="#Page_362">362</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Víga-Glúms Saga</i>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>: see <i> +<a href="#Glum">Glum</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<a name="Viga-Styrr">Víga-Styrr</a>: see <i><a href="#Heitharviga">Heiðarvíga Saga</a></i><br /> +</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>N.B.</i>—The story referred to in the text is preserved in +Jón Olafsson's recollection of the leaves of the MS. which +were lost in the fire of 1728 (<i>Islendinga Sögur</i>, 1847, ii. +p. 296). It is not given in Mr. William Morris's translation +of the extant portion of the Saga, appended to his +<i>Eyrbyggja</i>.</p></div> + +<p> +Vigfusson, Gudbrand, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_280">280</a> n, <a href="#Page_283">283</a> n<br /> +<br /> +<i>Viglund, Story of</i>, a romantic Saga, <a href="#Page_278">278</a> <i>sq.</i><br /> +<br /> +Villehardouin, a contemporary of Snorri, <a href="#Page_269">269</a><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Volospa">Volospá</a></i> (the Sibyl's Song of the Doom of the Gods), in the 'Poetic Edda,' <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">another copy in Hauk's book, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>, <a href="#Page_93">93</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Volsunga Saga</i>, a prose paraphrase of old Northern poems, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_280">280</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Volsungs, Old Lay of the</i>, <a href="#Page_96">96</a><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>Wade, Song of</i>, fragment recently discovered, <a href="#Page_180">180</a> (see <i>Academy</i>, Feb. 15, 1896)<br /> +<br /> +<i>Waldere</i>, old English poem (fragment), <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>: see <i> +<a href="#Walter">Walter of Aquitaine</a></i><br /> +<br /> +<i><a name="Walewein">Walewein</a>, Roman van</i>, Dutch romance of Sir Gawain; the plot compared with the Gaelic story of Mac Iain Direach, <a href="#Page_337">337</a>, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>-343<br /> +<br /> +<a name="Walter">Walter</a> of Aquitaine, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a> <i>sq.</i>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Waltharius</i>, Latin poem by Ekkehard, on the story of <a href="#Walter">Walter of Aquitaine</a>, <i>q.v.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Wanderer, the</i>, old English poem, <a href="#Page_134">134</a><br /> +<br /> +Ward, H.L.D., his Catalogue of MS. Romances in the British Museum, <a href="#Page_282">282</a><br /> +<br /> +Wealhtheo, <a href="#Page_166">166</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Weland</i>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">represented on the Franks casket in the British Museum, <a href="#Page_48">48</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">mentioned in <i>Waldere</i>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_163">163</a></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Lay of</i>, in 'Poetic Edda,' <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_94">94</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Well at the World's End</i>, <a href="#Page_387">387</a><br /> +<br /> +Widia, Weland's son, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_163">163</a><br /> +<br /> +<i>Widsith</i> (the Traveller's Song), old English poem, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a><br /> +<br /> +Wiglaf, the 'loyal servitor' in <i>Beowulf</i>, <a href="#Page_166">166</a><br /> +<br /> +William of Orange, old French epic hero, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>: see <i> +<a href="#Coronemenz">Coronemenz Looïs</a></i>, <i><a href="#Charroi">Charroi de Nismes</a></i>, <i> +<a href="#Prise">Prise d'Orange</a></i>, <i><a href="#Aliscans">Aliscans</a></i>, <i> +<a href="#Rainouart">Rainouart</a></i>; cf. J. Bédier, <i>Les Légendes épiques</i> (1908)</p> + +<hr style="width: 35%;" /> + +<h3>THE END</h3> + +<p style="text-align: center"> +<span class="small"><i>Printed in Great Britain by</i> <span class="smcap">R. & R. Clark, Limited</span>, <i>Edinburgh</i>.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>FOOTNOTES</h2> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Johnson on the Epic Poem (<i>Life of Milton</i>).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <i>Il.</i> xii. 328.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <i>Il.</i> xi. 462.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> <i>Od.</i> viii. 165.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> <i>Il.</i> xix. 420.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> +Ομηρος δε αλλα τε πολλα αξιος επαινεισθαι και +δη και οτι μονος των ποιητων ουκ αγνοει ο δει ποιειν αυτον. αυτον +γαρ δει τον ποιητην ελαχιστα λεγειν: ου γαρ εστι κατα ταυτα μιμητης. +οι μεν ουν αλλοι αυτοι μεν δι' ολου αγωνιζονται, μιμουνται δε ολιγα +και ολιγακις: ο δε ολιγα φροιμιασαμενος ευθυς εισαγει ανδρα η +γυναικα η αλλο τι ηθος και ουδεν' αηθη αλλ' εχοντα ηθη.—<span class="smcap">Arist.</span> +<i>Poet.</i> 1460 a 5.</p> +<p>[<i>Transliteration:</i> Homêros de alla te polla axios epaineisthai kai +dê kai hoti monos tôn poiêtôn ouk agnoei ho dei poiein auton. auton +gar dei ton poiêtên elachista legein: ou gar esti kata tauta mimêtês. +hoi men oun alloi autoi men di' holou agônizontai, mimountai de oliga +kai oligakis: ho de oliga phroimiasamenos euthys eisagei andra ê +gynaika ê allo ti êthos kai ouden' aêthê all' echonta êthê.] +</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> <i>Traité du Poëme Épique</i>, par le R.P. Le Bossu, Chanoine +Régulier de Sainte Geneviève; MDCLXXV (t. ii. p. 166).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> +</p> +<p><span style="margin-left: 10em;">αυταρ' Οδυσσευς</span><br /> +θυμωι μεν γοοωσαν εην ελεαιρε γυναικα,<br /> +οφθαλμοι δ' ως ει κερα εστασαν ηε σιδηρος<br /> +ατρεμας εν βλεφαροισι; δολωι δ' ο γε δακρυα κευθεν.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em"><i>Od.</i> xix. 209.</span> +</p> +<p>[<i>Transliteration:</i></p> +<p><span style="margin-left: 10em;">autar' Odysseus</span><br /> +thymôi men gooôsan heên eleaire gynaika,<br /> +ophthalmoi d' hôs ei kera hestasan êe sidêros<br /> +atremas en blepharoisi; dolôi d' ho ge dakrya keuthen.] +</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> +</p> +<p><span title="Greek: nun de tois allois agathois aphanizei hêdunôn to atopon">νυν δε τοις αλλοις αγαθοις αφανιζει ηδυνων το ατοπον</span>.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em"><span class="smcap">Aristot.</span> <i>Poet.</i> 1460 b.</span> +</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> "In the events of this history may be proved the great +long-suffering of God Almighty towards us every day; and the freedom +of will which He has given to every man, that each may do what he +will, good or evil."—<i>Hrafns Saga</i>, Prologue (<i>Sturlunga Saga</i> +Oxford, 1878, II. p. 275). +</p><p> +"As all good things are the work of God, so valour is made by Him and +placed in the heart of stout champions, and freedom therewithal to use +it as they will, for good or evil."—<i>Fóstbræðra Saga</i> (1852), p. 12: +one of the sophistical additions to the story: see below <a href="#Page_275">p. 275</a>. +</p><p> +The moral is different in the following passage:— +</p><p> +"And inasmuch as the Providence of God hath ordained, and it is His +pleasure, that the seven planets should have influence on the world, +and bear dominion over man's nature, giving him divers inclinations to +sin and naughtiness of life: nevertheless the Universal Creator has +not taken from him the free will, which, as it is well governed, may +subdue and abolish these temptations by virtuous living, if men will +use discretion."—<i>Tirant lo Blanch</i> (1460), c. i.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> <i>Il.</i> xii. 241.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> <i>Il.</i> xvii. 227.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> The censure is not wanting:— +</p><p> +"L'on doit considérer que ce n'est ni le Poëte, ni son Héros, ni un +honnête homme qui fait ce récit: mais que les Phéaques, peuples mols +et effeminez, se le font chanter pendant leur festin."—<span class="smcap">Bossu</span>, <i>op. +cit.</i> p. 152.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> <i>Od.</i> vi. 151.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> +</p> +<p> +Lor autres mors ont toz en terre mis:<br /> +Crois font sor aus, qu'il erent droit martir:<br /> +Por lor seignor orent esté ocis.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em"><i>Garin le Loherain</i>, tom. ii. p. 88.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> <i>C.P.B.</i>, Introduction, p. lii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> This poem has been followed by M. Leconte de Lisle in +<i>L'Épée d'Angantyr (Poèmes Barbares)</i>. It was among the first of the +Northern poems to be translated into English, in Hickes's <i>Thesaurus</i> +(1705), i. p. 193. It is also included in Percy's <i>Five Pieces of +Runic Poetry</i> (1763).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Cf. G. Vigfusson, Prolegomena to <i>Sturlunga</i> (Oxford, +1878); (<i>Corpus Poeticum Boreale</i> (<i>ibid.</i> 1883); <i>Grimm Centenary +Papers</i> 1886); Sophus Bugge, <i>Helgedigtene</i> (1896; trans. Schofield, +1899).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Compare <i>Cynewulf and Cyneheard</i> in the Chronicle (<span class="smcap">a.d.</span> +755); also the outbreak of enmity, through recollection of old wrongs, +in the stories of Alboin, and of the vengeance for Froda (<i>supra</i>, pp. + <a href="#Page_68">68</a>-70).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> Hildegyth, her English name, is unfortunately not +preserved in either of the fragmentary leaves. It is found (Hildigið) +in the <i>Liber Vitae</i> (Sweet, <i>Oldest English Texts</i>, p. 155).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> The resemblance to Hildebrand, l. 58, is pointed out by +Sophus Bugge: "Doh maht du nu aodlihho, ibu dir din ellen taoc, In sus +heremo man hrusti giwinnan." (Hildebrand speaks): "Easily now mayest +thou win the spoils of so old a man, if thy strength avail thee." It +is remarkable as evidence of the strong conventional character of the +Teutonic poetry, and of the community of the different nations in the +poetical convention, that two short passages like <i>Hildebrand</i> and +<i>Waldere</i> should present so many points of likeness to other poems, in +details of style. Thus the two lines quoted from <i>Hildebrand</i> as a +parallel to <i>Waldere</i> contain also the equivalent of the Anglo-Saxon +phrase, <i>Þonne his ellen deah</i>, a familiar part of the Teutonic +<i>Gradus</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Cf. <i>C.P.B.</i>, i. p. 375, for double versions of part of +<i>Hamðismál</i>, and of the <i>Lay of Helgi</i>. On pp. 377-379, parts of the +two texts of <i>Volospá</i>—R and H—are printed side by side for +comparison.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Cf. <i>Maldon</i>, l. 45 <i>sq.</i>, "Hearest thou what this +people answer? They will pay you, for tribute, spears, the deadly +point, the old swords, the weapons of war that profit you not," etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> <i>C.P.B.</i>, i. p. 130.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> <i>C.P.B.</i>, Introduction, p. lxxviii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> The "Long Lay of Sigurd" has disappeared. Cf. Heusler, +<i>Die Lieder der Lücke im Codex Regius der Edda</i>, 1902.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> From <i>C.P.B.</i>, i. pp. 293, 294, with some +modifications.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> From <i>C.P.B.</i>, i. p. 307, with some changes.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> See pp. + <a href="#Page_150">150</a>-156 below.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> Grundtvig, <i>Danmarks gamle Folkeviser</i>, No. 70. See +above, <a href="#Page_114">p. 114</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> Compare the warning of Angantyr to Hervor when he gives +her the sword Tyrfing—"Keep the sword sheathed, the slayer of +Hialmar; touch not the edges, there is venom upon them"—and the magic +sword Skofnung in <i>Kormaks Saga</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> Examples in + <a href="#APPENDIX">Appendix</a>, <a href="#NOTE_A">Note A</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> Compare the index to Sievers's edition of the <i>Hêliand</i> +for illustrations of this community of poetical diction in old Saxon, +English, Norse, and High German; and J. Grimm, <i>Andreas und Elene</i> +(1840), pp. xxv.-xliv.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> See <i>Bidrag til den ældste Skaldedigtnings Historie</i>, by +Dr. Sophus Bugge (1894).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> Compare <i>C.P.B.</i>, ii. 447, Excursus on the Figures and +Metaphors of old Northern Poetry.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> These may be found in the second volume of the <i>Corpus +Poeticum Boreale</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> <i>C.P.B.</i>, ii. 339.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> Translated in Percy's <i>Runic Poetry</i> (1763), p. 27, and +often since.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> There is a natural affinity to Gray's poetry in the +Icelandic poetry that he translated—compressed, emphatic, incapable +of laxity.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> <i>Poet.</i> 1451 a.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> +τοιγαρουν εκ μεν Ιλιαδος και Οδυσσειας μια +τραγωιδια ποιειται εκατερας η δυο μοναι, εκ δε Κυπριων πολλαι και της +μικρας Ιλιαδος πλεον οκτω, οιον οπλων κρισις, Φιλοκτητης, +Νεοπτολεμος, Ευρυπυλος, πτωχεια, Λακαιναι, Ιλιου περσις, και αποπλους +και Σινων και Τρωιαδες (1459 b). +</p> +<p>[<i>Transliteration:</i> toigaroun ek men Iliados kai Odysseias mia +tragôidia poieitai hekateras ê duo monai, ek de Kypriôn pollai kai tês +mikras Iliados pleon oktô, hoion hoplôn krisis, Philoktêtês, +Neoptolemos, Eurypylos, ptôcheia, Lakainai, Iliou persis, kai apoplous +kai Sinôn kai Trôiades.]</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> It has been shown recently by Dr. Edward Sievers that +Beowulf's dragon corresponds in many points to the dragon killed by +Frotho, father of Haldanus, in Saxo, Book II. The dragon is not wholly +commonplace, but has some particular distinctive traits. See <i>Berichte +der Königl. Sächs. Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften</i>, 6 Juli 1895.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> Asbjörnsen, <i>Norske Huldre-Eventyr og Folkesagn</i>. <i>At +renske Huset</i> is the phrase—"to cleanse the house." Cf. <i>Heorot is +gefælsod</i>, "Heorot is cleansed," in <i>Beowulf</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> J.F. Campbell, <i>Tales of the West Highlands</i>, ii. p. 99. +The reference to this story in <i>Catriona</i> (p. 174) will be +remembered.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> <i>Biskupa Sögur</i>, i. p. 604.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> Ed. Robson, Chetham Society, 1855, from the Lyme MS.; +ed. Furnivall and Hales, <i>Percy Folio Manuscript</i>, 1867.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> See below, + <a href="#Page_283">p. 283</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> "Is it true, Thorgils, that you have entertained those +three men this winter, that are held to be the most regardless and +overbearing, and all of them outlaws, and you have handled them so +that none has hurt another?" Yes, it was true, said Thorgils. Skapti +said: "That is something for a man to be proud of; but what do you +think of the three, and how are they each of them in courage?" +Thorgils said: "They are all three bold men to the full; yet two of +them, I think, may tell what fear is like. It is not in the same way +with both; for Thormod fears God, and Grettir is so afraid of the dark +that after dark he would never stir, if he had his own way; but I do +not know that Thorgeir, my kinsman, is afraid of anything."—"You have +read them well," says Skapti; and so their talk ended (<i>Grettis Saga</i>, +c. 51).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> See below, + <a href="#Page_229">pp. 229</a> <i>sqq.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> + <a href="#Page_216">p. 216</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> <i>Skapraun</i>, lit. <i>test of condition</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> Translated in + <a href="#APPENDIX">Appendix</a>, <a href="#NOTE_B">Note B</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> "Tell me what faith you are of," said the earl. "I +believe in my own strength," said Sigmund (<i>Færeyinga Saga</i>).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> It is summarised in Dasent's <i>Njal</i>, i. p. xx., and +translated in Sephton's <i>Olaf Tryggvason</i> (1895), pp. 339-341.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> <i>Harðar Saga</i>, c. xi.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> The pathos of Asdis, Grettir's mother, comes nearest to +the tone of the old English laments, or of the Northern elegiac +poetry, and may be taken as a contrast to the demeanour of Bjargey in +<i>Hávarðar Saga</i>, and an exception to the general rule of the Sagas in +this respect.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> <i>Vide supra</i>, + <a href="#Page_140">p. 140</a>, and <i>infra</i>, <a href="#Page_295">p. 295</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> Pp. + <a href="#Page_96">96</a>, <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, above.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> Then Brynhild laughed till the walls rang again: "Good +luck to your hands and swords that have felled the goodly prince" +(<i>Brot Sgkv.</i> 10; cf. <a href="#Page_103">p. 103</a> above).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> <i>Vide supra</i>, + <a href="#Page_193">p. 193</a> (the want of tragedy in <i>Víga-Glúms +Saga</i>).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_61_61" id="Footnote_61_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> Translated in + <a href="#APPENDIX">Appendix</a>, <a href="#NOTE_C">Note C</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_62_62" id="Footnote_62_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> Arni Beiskr (the Bitter) in company with Gizur +murdered Snorri Sturluson the historian at his house of +Reykholt, 22nd September 1241.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_63_63" id="Footnote_63_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> <i>Fóstbr.</i> (1852) p. 8: "Því at ekki var hjarta hans seen +fóarn í fugli: ekki var þat blóðfullt svá at þat skylfi af hræzlu, +heldr var þat herdt af enum hæsta höfuðsmið í öllum hvatleik." ("His +heart was not fashioned like the crop in a fowl: it was not gorged +with blood that it should flutter with fear, but was tempered by the +High Headsmith in all alacrity.")</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_64_64" id="Footnote_64_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> "The first romantic Sagas"—<i>i.e.</i> Sagas derived from +French romance—"date from the reign of King Hakon Hakonsson +(1217-1263), when the longest and best were composed, and they appear +to cease at the death of King Hakon the Fifth (1319), who, we are +expressly told, commanded many translations to be made" (G. Vigfusson, +Prol. § 25).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_65_65" id="Footnote_65_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> The Mythical Sagas are described and discussed by +Vigfusson, Prol. § 34.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_66_66" id="Footnote_66_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> <i>Ibid.</i> § 11, "Spurious Icelandic Sagas" +(<i>Skrök-Sögur</i>). For <i>Frithiof</i>, see § 34.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_67_67" id="Footnote_67_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> Translated by Mr. William Morris and Mr. E. Magnússon, +in the same volume as <i>Gunnlaug</i>, <i>Frithiof</i>, and <i>Viglund</i> (<i>Three +Northern Love Stories</i>, etc., 1875).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_68_68" id="Footnote_68_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> Vigfusson, Prol. p. cxxxviii. <i>C.P.B.</i>, ii. 392. The +forms of verse used in the <i>Rímur</i> are analysed in the preface to +<i>Riddara Rímur</i>, by Theodor Wisén (1881).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_69_69" id="Footnote_69_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> G. Paris, Preface to <i>Histoire de la littérature +française</i>, edited by L. Petit de Julleville.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_70_70" id="Footnote_70_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> See the preface to <i>Raoul de Cambrai</i>, ed. Paul Meyer +(Anc. Textes), for examples of such <i>chevilles</i>; and also <i>Aimeri de +Narbonne</i>, p. civ.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_71_71" id="Footnote_71_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> <i>Historia Verdadera de Carlo Magno y los doce Pares de +Francia</i>: Madrid, 4to (1891), a chap-book of thirty-two pages.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_72_72" id="Footnote_72_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> Glum, like Raoul, is a widow's son deprived of his +rights.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_73_73" id="Footnote_73_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> <i>Garin le Loherain</i>, ed. Paulin Paris (1833-35), vol. +ii. pp. 217-272.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_74_74" id="Footnote_74_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> One of the frequent morals of French epic (repeated also +by French romance) is the vanity of overmuch sorrow for the dead. +</p> +<p>αλλα χρη τον μεν καταθαπτειν ος κε θανησιν<br /> +νηλεα θυμον εχοντας, επ' ηματι δακρυσαντας.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 7em">(Odysseus speaking) <i>Il.</i> xix. 228.</span> +</p> +<p>[<i>Transliteration:</i></p> +<p>alla chrê ton men katathaptein hos ke thanêsin<br /> +nêlea thymon echontas, ep' êmati dakrysantas.] +</p> +<p> +"Laissiez ester," li quens Guillaumes dit;<br /> +"Tout avenra ce que doit avenir;<br /> +Li mort as mors, li vif voissent as vis;<br /> +Duel sor dolor et joie sor joïr<br /> +Ja nus frans hons nel devroit maintenir."<br /> +Les cors enportent, les out en terre mis.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10em"><i>Garin</i>, i. p. 262.</span> +</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_75_75" id="Footnote_75_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> +</p> +<p> +Respont li reis: "N'iés pas bien enseigniez,<br /> +Qui devant mei oses de Deu plaidier;<br /> +C'est l'om el mont qui plus m'a fait irier:<br /> +Mon pere ocist une foldre del ciel:<br /> +Tot i fu ars, ne li pot l'en aidier.<br /> +Quant Deus l'ot mort, si fist que enseigniez;<br /> +El ciel monta, ça ne voit repairier;<br /> +Ge nel poeie sivre ne enchalcier,<br /> +Mais de ses omes me sui ge puis vengiez;<br /> +De cels qui furent levé et baptisié<br /> +Ai fait destruire plus de trente miliers,<br /> +Ardeir en feu et en eve neier;<br /> +Quant ge la sus ne puis Deu guerreier,<br /> +Nul de ses omes ne vueil ça jus laissier,<br /> +Et mei et Deu n'avons mais que plaidier:<br /> +Meie est la terre et siens sera li ciels."<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 12.5em"><i>l.c.</i>, l. 522.</span> +</p> + +<p> +The last verse expresses the same sentiment as the answer of the +Emperor Henry when he was told to beware of God's vengeance: "Celum +celi Domino, terram autem dedit filiis hominum" (Otton. Frising. +<i>Gesta Frid.</i> i. 11).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_76_76" id="Footnote_76_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> +</p> +<p> +Li cuens Guillaumes li comença à dire:<br /> +—Diva, vilain, par la loi dont tu vives<br /> +Fus-tu a Nymes, la fort cité garnie?<br /> +—Oïl, voir, sire, le paaige me quistrent;<br /> +Ge fui trop poures, si nel poi baillier mie.<br /> +Il me lessèrent por mes enfanz qu'il virent.<br /> +—Di moi, vilain, des estres de la vile.<br /> +Et cil respont:—Ce vos sai-ge bien dire<br /> +Por un denier .ii. granz pains i véismes;<br /> +La denerée vaut .iii. en autre vile:<br /> +Moult par est bone, se puis n'est empirie.<br /> +—Fox, dist Guillaume, ce ne demant-je mie,<br /> +Mès des paiens chevaliers de la vile,<br /> +Del rei Otrant et de sa compaignie.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 11.5em"><i>l.c.</i>, ll. 903-916.</span> +</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_77_77" id="Footnote_77_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> Cf. Auguste Longnon, "L'élément historique de Huon de +Bordeaux," <i>Romania</i>, viii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_78_78" id="Footnote_78_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> "Pos de chantar m'es pres talens:"—Raynouard, <i>Choix +des poésies des Troubadours</i>, iv. p. 83; Bartsch, <i>Chrestomathie +provençale</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_79_79" id="Footnote_79_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_79_79"><span class="label">[79]</span></a> See the account of the custom in the <i>Saga of Harald +Hardrada</i>, c. 16. "Harald entrusted to Jarizleif all the gold that he +had sent from Micklegarth, and all sorts of precious things: so much +wealth all together, as no man of the North Lands had ever seen before +in one man's hands. Harald had thrice come in for the palace-sweeping +(<i>Polotasvarf</i>) while he was in Micklegarth. It is the law there that +when the Greek king dies, the Varangians shall have a sweep of the +palace; they go over all the king's palaces where his treasures are, +and every man shall have for his own what falls to his hand" +(<i>Fornmanna Sögur</i>, vi. p. 171).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_80_80" id="Footnote_80_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_80_80"><span class="label">[80]</span></a> +</p> +<p> +Il ot o lui un saietaire<br /> +Qui molt fu fels et deputaire:<br /> +Des le nombril tot contreval<br /> +Ot cors en forme de cheval:<br /> +Il n'est riens nule s'il volsist<br /> +Que d'isnelece n'ateinsist:<br /> +Cors, chiere, braz, a noz semblanz<br /> +Avoit, mes n'ert pas avenanz.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10em">l. 12,207.</span> +</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_81_81" id="Footnote_81_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_81_81"><span class="label">[81]</span></a> Chaucer, who often yields to the temptations of +"Hyperbole" in this sense of the word, lays down the law against +impertinent decorations, in the rhetorical instruction of Pandarus to +Troilus, about Troilus's letter to Cressida (B. ii. l. 1037):— +</p> +<p> +Ne jompre eek no discordaunt thing yfere<br /> +As thus, to usen termes of phisyk;<br /> +In loves termes hold of thy matere<br /> +The forme alwey, and do that it be lyk;<br /> +For if a peyntour wolde peynte a pyk<br /> +With asses feet, and hede it as an ape,<br /> +It cordeth naught; so nere it but a jape. +</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_82_82" id="Footnote_82_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_82_82"><span class="label">[82]</span></a> Not included in the editions of her works (Roquefort, +Warnke); edited by M. Gaston Paris in the eighth volume of <i>Romania</i> +along with the lays of <i>Doon</i>, <i>Tidorel</i>, and <i>Tiolet</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_83_83" id="Footnote_83_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_83_83"><span class="label">[83]</span></a> Britomart in the House of Busirane has some resemblance +to the conclusion of <i>Libius Disconius</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_84_84" id="Footnote_84_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_84_84"><span class="label">[84]</span></a> Fr. Michel: <i>Tristan.</i> London, 1835. <i>Le Roman de +Tristan</i> (Thomas) ed. Bédier; (Béroul) ed. Muret, <i>Anc. Textes</i>, +1902-1905. Cf. Gaston Paris, <i>Poëmes et Légendes</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_85_85" id="Footnote_85_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_85_85"><span class="label">[85]</span></a> A fine passage is quoted from the romance of <i>Ider</i> in +the essay cited above, where Guenloïe the queen finds Ider near death +and thinks of killing herself, like Phyllis and other ladies of the +old time, who will welcome her. It is the "Saints' Legend of Cupid," +many generations before Chaucer, in the form of an invocation to Love, +the tyrant:— +</p> +<p> +Bel semblant ço quit me feront<br /> +Les cheitives qui a toi sont<br /> +Qui s'ocistrent par druerie<br /> +D'amor; mout voil lor compainie:<br /> +D'amor me recomfortera<br /> +La lasse Deïanira,<br /> +Qui s'encroast, et Canacé,<br /> +Eco, Scilla, Fillis, Pronné,<br /> +Ero, Biblis, Dido, Mirra,<br /> +Tisbé, la bele Hypermnestra,<br /> +Et des autres mil et cinc cenz.<br /> +Amor! por quoi ne te repenz<br /> +De ces simples lasses destruire?<br /> +Trop cruelment te voi deduire:<br /> +Pechié feiz que n'en as pitié;<br /> +Nuls deus fors toi ne fait pechié!<br /> +De ço est Tisbé al dessus,<br /> +Que por lié s'ocist Piramus;<br /> +Amors, de ço te puet loer<br /> +Car a ta cort siet o son per;<br /> +Ero i est o Leander:<br /> +Si jo i fusse avec Ider,<br /> +Aise fusse, ço m'est avis,<br /> +Com alme qu'est en paraïs. +</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_86_86" id="Footnote_86_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_86_86"><span class="label">[86]</span></a> Blethericus, or Bréri, is the Welsh authority cited by +Thomas in his <i>Tristan</i>. Cf. Gaston Paris, <i>Romania</i>, viii. p. 427.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_87_87" id="Footnote_87_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_87_87"><span class="label">[87]</span></a> The Welsh version has the advantage here in noting more +fully than Chrestien the beauty of age in Enid's mother: "And he +thought that there could be no woman fairer than she must have been in +the prime of her youth." Chrestien says merely (at the end of his +story, l. 6621):— +</p> +<p> +Bele est Enide et bele doit<br /> +Estre par reison et par droit,<br /> +Que bele dame est mout sa mere<br /> +Bel chevalier a an son pere. +</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_88_88" id="Footnote_88_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_88_88"><span class="label">[88]</span></a> Ed. Paul Meyer, 1865, and, again, 1901.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_89_89" id="Footnote_89_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_89_89"><span class="label">[89]</span></a> Ed. G. Raynaud, <i>Romania</i>, xxi. p. 145.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_90_90" id="Footnote_90_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_90_90"><span class="label">[90]</span></a> <i>i.e.</i> Diomede.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_91_91" id="Footnote_91_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_91_91"><span class="label">[91]</span></a> In a somewhat similar list of romances, in the Italian +poem of <i>L'Intelligenza</i>, ascribed to Dino Compagni (st. 75), Luneta +is named Analida; possibly the origin of Chaucer's Anelida, a name +which has not been clearly traced.</p></div> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EPIC AND ROMANCE***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 20406-h.txt or 20406-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/4/0/20406">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/4/0/20406</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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