Part II: Anglo-Norman Literary Period, part of the Middle Ages Literary Period

22

The Lay of Les Deus Amanz: The king’s daughter

 

IN times gone by, in Normandy,

There was told an oft-heard story,

Of two who loved one another,

And in that love died together.

A Breton lay told of that same,

The Two Lovers was its name.

For the truth is that in Neustrie,

Which we call now Normandy,

There is a mount, wondrous high,

And there it is the lovers lie.

In a place, near that mountain,

In his wisdom, there a certain

King had founded a fine city,

For the lord of Pîtres was he.

When asked he gave it a name,

Thus Pîtres he called the same.

The name indeed has endured,

Of town and castle, he was lord.

We know that country withal,

The Vale of Pîtres it is called.

The king had a lovely daughter,

Courteous, of gentle character,

And she now cheered his life

After the loss of his dear wife.

Now, many turned to murmuring;

His people unhappy with the king;

And when he heard what men said

He was troubled: she must be wed.

So he mused, and he considered

How she might yet be delivered

From every suitor for her hand.

Far and wide went his command,

That he who’d win his daughter,

Must in his arms transport her,

To the top of that mountain tall,

That lay beyond the city wall,

Must carry her there, to its crest,

Without seeking a moment’s rest.

 

The Lay of Les Deus Amanz: The young nobleman

 

AS soon as the news was known,

And throughout the country sown,

Many a youth sought, as agreed,

To do so, yet could not succeed;

Though they all gave of their best,

Not one could achieve that test.

All failed to win her; finally,

They were obliged to let her be.

Long time she remained unwed,

No man sought her for his bed.

There was a youth in that country,

He a count, handsome and free,

And he resolved to try his hand,

To outdo all others in that land.

He frequented the king’s court,

Often lingered there, in short,

Fell in love with the king’s daughter,

Thus oftentimes he sought her,

To ask that she grant him her love,

And thus her own affection prove.

Since he was noble, and courteous,

And the king prized him, she was

Inclined to give of herself, freely,

And he thanked her most humbly.

They would often speak together,

Faithfully they loved each other,

And did all in their power to hide

Their love, all trace of it denied.

To endure so was full troubling,

But giving thought to the thing

He thought it better to so suffer,

Than to be hasty, and so lose her.

He waited long thus for her love.

 

The Lay of Les Deus Amanz: A stratagem

 

ONE day his thoughts did so move

In that direction, he approached her,

Being prudent, and a noble lover,

And revealed to her his distress,

Then, in anguish, made this request,

That she away with him should flee,

That he might not so troubled be.

For if he asked her of her father,

He well-knew that he so loved her,

He would never grant her to him,

Except he please her father’s whim,

And bear her up the mountain-side.

Then the maid quietly replied:

‘Friend, I know that all must drop

Me, well before they reach the top;

Such deeds lie not in your power.

But if I went with you this hour,

He would rage, and my belief

Is that he’d surely die of grief;

I hold him dear, I love him so,
I would not bring him sorrow.

Some other path we must take,

Since that I cannot, for his sake.

In Salerno an aunt have I,

On whose wealth we may rely.

For more than thirty years therein,

My aunt has practised medicine,

And from long dealing in such lore,

Is wise in herbs and roots, and more.

If you would now but hasten there,

Bear her my letter, in your care,

And tell her of our plight, I’m sure

She’ll offer you counsel, and cure.

Electuaries she’ll give to you,

And potions that strengthen too,

And they will much increase your power,

And give you courage gainst this hour.

When you return to this country,

Then demand if you may wed me.

And he will take you for a fool,

And so repeat his previous rule,

That he will grant me to no man

Unless he shows him that he can

Bear me to the mountain crest,

In his two arms, and seek no rest.’

 

The Lay of Les Deus Amanz: The strengthening potion

 

SHE had delighted the young man

With her wise counsel, and her plan,

And he thanked her, in his delight,

And, taking leave of her that night,

He returned to his own country,

And there prepared for the journey.

Gathering rich fabrics, monies,

Beasts of burden and palfreys.

With him went the most worthy

Of the young men of his company.

To Salerno he made his way,

And a visit to the aunt did pay,

With the missive from his lover;

When she’d read all the letter,

She remained with him, till he

Was strengthened remarkably,

By the medicines she proffered,

And then a potion last she offered,

Such that whoever drank of it,

However great a task was set,

It would all his power renew,

Reaching each vein and sinew,

His body strong in every way,

As all fatigue it held at bay.

So he returned to his own land,

The potion, in a flask, to hand.

When the young man alighted

In his country, all delighted,

He lingered not in that place,

But hastened to the king apace,

Seeking to wed his daughter

If to the summit he brought her.

The king did not refuse, yet he

Thought the count full of folly,

Being too young to e’er succeed;

For many a valiant man indeed,

Had now attempted that affair,
And none had carried her there.

On a day the king had named,

To all his friends he proclaimed

His intent, his household too,

All who would his actions view;

So they came from every part,

For the youth and his sweetheart,

Since he would adventure there,

Her to the summit he must bear.

His lover had prepared wisely,

Ate not, fasting most strictly;

For, so as to lighten his load,

She on her love her aid bestowed.

 

The Lay of Les Deus Amanz: He attempts the feat

 

ON the day, thus it did befall,

The youth was there before them all,

With him the potion brought, and lo,

Beside the Seine, in the meadow,

Before the crowd gathered there,

The king led forth his daughter fair;

She wore naught except her shift.

Now, in his arms, the youth did lift

His love; she held the potion for him,

For he knew that she’d not fail him,

And so she clasped it in her hand,

And yet in vain, you understand,

Since the youth drank not a drop,

But set out for the mountain-top.

And so he climbed the lower slope,

His mind so filled with joy and hope

Of the potion he took no thought.

She felt with tiredness he fought,

‘Friend,’ she cried, ‘you must drink!

You must be weary now, I think.

Drink and renew your strength.’

But he replied to her, at length:
‘Fair one, I’m strong enough I find,

Not for aught would I fall behind,

For in the time that I might drink

I could walk three paces I think.

The people shouting out, likewise,

Might deafen me with all their cries;

And all of that would trouble me,

I may not rest here, truthfully.’

When he climbed the final stage

A war with faintness he did wage,

The maid oft crying, with emotion:

‘Friend, drink now of the potion.’

He would not hear a single word,

Rather, in pain, his loins did gird.

 

The Lay of Les Deus Amanz: They reach the summit, the youth dies

 

TO the top he comes now, and sighs,

Falls to the ground, and cannot rise.

The heart is throbbing in his chest,

His lover sees her friend must rest,

He’s overcome, in a deep swoon,

She falls to her knees, that soon

She might rouse him with the potion,

But his lips could make no motion,

For there he died, I now relate

While she wept aloud his fate,

Hurling the bottle from her hand,

Careless of where it might land.

Thereafter all the herbs that grew

On that mount, proved healthful to

All of that country far and wide;

Many a fine plant could be spied

Yielding virtue of its root there.

 

The Lay of Les Deus Amanz: The death of the king’s daughter

 

NOW I’ll tell of the maiden fair,

She who had lost her dear lover;

None had grieved so deeply ever.

She lay beside him, touched his face,

Clasped his body in her embrace,

Kissed him on his mouth and eyes;

From her heart’s depths rose her sighs.

Alas, the maid too, she died there,

Who was so noble, wise and fair.

The king, and his whole company,

Seeing that they came not, he

Went after them; and there, too late,

He found them; swooning at their fate.

When he could speak, he lamented;

Sorrow his whole court tormented.

Three days later they were interred,

A marble tomb on them conferred;

Within the two young folk were laid,

And, as agreed, their grave was made

Upon the mount; thus it was done,

Then they all departed, one by one.

Thereafter, folk named the mount

The Two Lovers, on their account.

For all of this happened as I say,

And of it the Bretons made a lay.

 

The End of the Lay of Les Deus Amanz

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This work (Early British Literature Anthology, Anglo-Saxon Period to Eighteenth Century by Joy Pasini, Ph.D.) is free of known copyright restrictions.

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