LOVERS ***




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                  THE BOOK OF THE DUKE OF TRUE LOVERS



    NOW FIRST TRANSLATED FROM THE MIDDLE FRENCH OF CHRISTINE DE
    PISAN WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY ALICE KEMP-WELCH. THE BALLADS
    RENDERED INTO THE ORIGINAL METRES BY LAURENCE BINYON & ERIC R.
    D. MACLAGAN


                       THE MEDIEVAL LIBRARY UNDER
                       THE GENERAL EDITORSHIP OF
                 SIR ISRAEL GOLLANCZ, Litt. D., F.B.A.




[Illustration: _The Book Of The Duke Of True Lovers Now First Translated
From the Middle French of Christine de Pisan, by Alice Kemp-Welch.
Chatto and Windus. London MCMVIII._]

    The title on the reverse of this page, engraved upon the wood,
    was designed by Miss _Blanche C. Hunter_, and embodies the only
    authentic portrait of _Christine De Pisan_, engaged in writing,
    from the MS. now in the Bibliotheque Royale, Brussels.

[Illustration: _Ci commence le liure du duc des vrays amans._]


                                NEW YORK
                        OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
                            AMERICAN BRANCH

                         _All Rights reserved_

              Printed in England at _The Ballantyne Press_
                  Spottiswoode, Ballantyne & Co. Ltd.
                      _Colchester, London & Eton_






TRANSLATOR'S NOTE


The only two known MSS., both early fifteenth century French, of the
love-story here rendered into English prose, are the one in the
Bibliotheque Nationale (836), and that in the British Museum (Harley,
4431).

The MS. in the Bibliotheque Nationale forms one of the treasures of the
famous collection of MSS. made by Jean, Duc de Berry, the Mecaenas of
illuminated MSS. At his death it passed into the possession of his
daughter Marie, who, by marriage, had become Duchesse de Bourbon. When,
in the reign of Francois I., the Connetable de Bourbon, to whom it had
descended, was disgraced, the king seized his books and MSS., and
carried them off to Fontainebleau, well pleased to add by any means,
righteous or unrighteous, to the treasures of the royal library. Here
this MS. and others remained until the reign of Charles IX., when they
were removed to Paris, and placed in the Bibliotheque du Roi, now the
world-famous Bibliotheque Nationale.

The MS. in the British Museum has also had an interesting and chequered
career. It was originally presented by Christine de Pisan to Isabelle of
Bavaria, the queen of Charles VI. of France, whose books and MSS. were,
in 1425, acquired by John, Duke of Bedford, Regent of France. It is more
than probable that this MS. was amongst these and was brought to
England, for the various signatures on the enclosing parchment would
certainly seem to indicate that this was the case. Late in the fifteenth
century the MS. was sold to one of the most celebrated bibliophiles of
the day, Louis of Bruges. After this, there is a blank in its history,
until, in the seventeenth century, we find it once more in England, in
the possession of Henry, Duke of Newcastle, whose grand-daughter married
Edward Harley, Earl of Oxford, the founder of the splendid collection of
MSS. and books purchased in 1754 for the British Museum, and now known
as the Harleian Collection.

The writer of the story, Christine de Pisan, was one of the world's many
famous women, and one who, by her life and work, created an ideal for
womankind--that of sweetness and strength. Born in Venice in 1363, she
was, when five years of age, taken by her mother to Paris, to join her
father, Thomas de Pisan, who had been summoned thither by the king,
Charles V., to serve as his astrologer, in which service he remained
until the king's death. The Court of Charles V. was, in spite of the
constant warfare that troubled his kingdom, at once most cultured and
refined, and it was in such surroundings that Christine was brought up.
At the age of fifteen she was married to the king's notary and
secretary, Etienne de Castel, a gentleman of Picardy, who, however, died
some ten years later, leaving her with three children to provide for.
Like many another, she turned to letters as both a material and a mental
support. She wrote not only purely lyrical poetry, of extraordinary
variety and abundance considering that the subject is almost invariably
the joys and sorrows of love, sometimes, as she tells us, expressing her
own sentiments, sometimes those of others at whose request she wrote,
but she also wrote sacred and scientific poems, and moral and political
prose works, and a kind of romantic fiction, of which the story of The
Duke of True Lovers is an example, although it is quite possible, and
indeed probable, that it has some historic basis.

Christine begins her story by saying that it had been confided to her by
a young prince who did not wish his name to be divulged, and who desired
only to be known as The Duke of True Lovers. It has been suggested, with
much likelihood, that this is the love story of Jean, Duc de Bourbon,
and Marie, Duchesse de Berry, who has already been alluded to as the
daughter of the famous Jean, Duc de Berry, and the inheritor of his MSS.
This Marie had been married, when quite a child, to Louis III. de
Chatillon, Comte de Dunois, and afterwards to Philippe d'Artois, Comte
d'Eu, Constable of France, whose wife she was at the time when the
incidents which have been woven into this story are supposed to have
taken place. Philippe d'Artois only survived the marriage three or four
years, and after three years of widowhood, the already much-married
Marie wedded (1400) our hero, Jean, Duc de Bourbon.

The principal facts which seem to afford strong evidence in favour of
connecting this love story with the two princely houses of Bourbon and
Berry are (1) that the MS. originally formed part of the library of the
Duc de Berry, and subsequently passed on marriage to that of the Duc de
Bourbon; (2) that although Christine's MSS. generally were so copied and
multiplied during her lifetime that they number even now at least two
hundred, there is only one other copy--the one already referred to as
being in the British Museum--known of this particular MS., this alone
seeming to indicate that its contents were regarded as of a private
family nature; and (3) that to add to the mystery, and to ensure
secrecy, there is no definite ending to the romance. The story merely
tells us that the ducal lover, harassed by mischief-makers, and unable
to bear the pain of a separation in his own country which her position
and his own gallantry alike demanded, departs with the army for an
expedition in Spain. For ten years the lovers meet from time to time
during the intervals between journeying and war, and further solace each
other with short love-poems, expressive of pensive longing, and with
these the story ends vaguely. But if we accept the story as being
founded on real life, history supplies a more definite ending. As
already stated, soon after the death of Marie's second husband,
Philippe, the lovers are married, and spend a few happy years in their
castle at Moulins, the chief town of the Duke's domains, surrounded by
and enjoying rare works of art and literature, their happiness only
marred by the unsettled state of France, and by consequent calls on the
Duke to fight for his country. It was on one of such occasions--the
memorable and decisive battle of Agincourt (1415)--that the Duke was
made prisoner, and taken to London, where he died in captivity, and
Marie, his Duchess, was left to mourn, and this time in real sorrow.

Thus ends the story, which Christine has told with her wonderful gift as
painter-poet. Besides making the lovers, and that noxious growth of
civilisation, the inevitable scandal-monger, intensely living through
her womanly sympathy and psychological insight, and introducing, in the
form of a letter, a most comprehensive and remarkable treatise on
feminine morality, the dangers of illicit love, and the satisfaction of
simple wifely duty, she takes us in imagination to a royal castle of the
fifteenth century. There we seem to live the daily life of its courtly
circle, and, through the vivid description of the sumptuous pageant, to
take part in the three days' tournament, and in the merry revels which
bring each day to a close. As we read, we realise the extraordinary
power of this woman, who seems in description to use the exact and
detailed brush of a Meissonier, whilst in her outlook on life she
possesses the broader and freer touch of a Puvis de Chavannes. Truly is
it a master-mind indeed which can see life largely, and see it well!

Much might be written about the interesting and talented Christine, but
we must bid her farewell now and here. Still she must ever be held in
remembrance for her untiring championship of two things very near to her
heart--a patriotic love for the land of her adoption, and an ardent
devotion to the cause of womankind. She had the happiness before her
death, which occurred about 1430 in the Convent of Poissy, near Paris,
to which she had retired, of seeing France aroused to patriotism, and
that, too, by a woman--Joan of Arc.




THE BOOK OF THE DUKE OF TRUE LOVERS


Here begins the Book of The Duke of True Lovers

Although I might have no desire or intent at the present time to
discourse of love, since all my mind is occupied with other matter the
which is more pleasing to me, I am willing, for the sake of others, now
to commence a wondrous story, for to this I am besought by one who,
instead of making request, has the right to give command to one even
more worthy than I. And this is a lord whom it behoves one duly to obey,
and who of his grace has desired me to make known the trouble which,
whether he has been wise, or whether he has been foolish, he has, during
many winters and summers, long been in by reason of love to the which
his heart is still in bondage. But he would not that I should make known
his name. It contents him who tells this story for their sake, to be
called the Duke of True Lovers. And it is his pleasure that I recount,
even as he has told them unto me, the grievous distresses, the joys, and
the strange adventures, through the which, during many bygone years, he
has passed. And he would that to this rehearsal I should at the same
time add other matter, the which I grant him, for I know him to be of
such disposition, and of such good sense, that his humility will take in
good part the imperfection of my little poem, and, with his consent, I
will relate on his behalf the facts even as he has set them forth.




THE DUKE OF TRUE LOVERS


I was a mere lad when I first experienced a great desire to become a
lover. And for that I heard it maintained that a lover is courteous
above other folk, and better esteemed amongst men, I desired to be one.
To this end I resorted thither where I might choose a lady whom I might
serve, but ne'ertheless I was longwhile without one, for, on my soul, I
had not the understanding to make choice, and although I had enough of
leisure, I ne'ertheless understood not how to discover the way to this.
And because of my desire, I frequented much fair company of dames and
maidens, and saw many very fair damsels, but youth still kept possession
of me, so that in nowise did I know how to determine whom to choose.
Thus I was longwhile happy, content with this gay and pleasing life. But
when the time dured too long for me, in this manner did I make sore
plaint to love:--

    Very God of Love, who art of lovers Lord,
    And Venus, thou, Love's Lady and Goddess,
    Since in love only is set my happiness,
    Vouchsafe to turn my heart soon thitherward.

    Vouchsafe, that I be with right courage stored,
    Soon to bring unto me my heart's mistress,
    Very God of Love, who art of lovers Lord.

    And may I choose, if thou the grace accord,
    One that shall pardon me the simpleness
    Of youth, and honour on my days impress;
    Out of a great desire have I implored,
    Very God of Love, who art of lovers Lord.

And because of the desire which I had in view, oft did I discourse thus
until that true love heard me, and gratified my longing. And I will
rehearse unto you in what manner love first took possession of my heart
and made it captive, and never after set it free.

[Illustration: _"On a day for my diversion... we mounted on to our
horses"_]

On a day, for my diversion, with one of my kinsfolk and four others of
my gentlemen, we mounted on to our horses. A longing for the chase took
possession of me, and, to ensure success, I caused the huntsmen to take
greyhounds and ferrets. Then, without ado, we entered on a path the
which I had ofttimes followed, but not far had we gone when a wide
beaten track led us whither I knew there were many rabbits. And near by,
I assure you, there was a strong and very goodly castle, but its name I
will not make known.

At that time there was come to this place a Princess who was held of
every one as so good and beautiful, and of so great worth, that she was
had in honour of all. In nowise did we know that she was there, since we
came thither by chance. Here and there, without the castle, her
attendants amused themselves, some singing, some casting the weight, and
others, afoot, exercising with the bar. And as they remained there, we
turned our steps toward them. Then they all turned them toward us, and
when they perceived us, and recognised who we were, the chief amongst
them at once rose up. And when they had saluted us, they tarried not,
but, as it seemed to me, by twos and by threes repaired them to their
mistress. And methinks they did not hide from her that we were come
there, for as soon as we were come quite nigh unto the castle, we saw a
goodly company of ladies coming forth to meet us. And these gave us
welcome with gracious bearing.

And we straightway turned toward them, and saluted them on bended knee.
And there was amongst them both a lady and a maiden who were kinsfolk of
her who was mistress of them all. And without giving affront, and
without rebuke, I kissed the maiden with fair tresses, as well as the
lady. And my cousin and I escorted the maiden, who was high-born, and
the noble lady, and in suchwise entered the castle.

And the Lady, of whom every one spake well, had already come forth from
out her chamber, and stood there with noble mien, neither proudly, nor
haughtily, but in such manner as befitted her noble estate and royal
person. And as soon as we saw her, we duly saluted her, and, in a little
space, she came forward, and took me with ungloved hand, and kissed me,
and said, "I knew not of your coming, fair cousin. You are right
welcome, but what brings you here now?"

Then said my cousin, "Certes, my Lady, we set out for amusement, and
knew not that you were here. Chance brought us hither, but praised be
God who has so favoured us that we have found at your hands so warm a
welcome."

And the good and gracious lady laughed at this, and made answer, "Then
let us go amuse ourselves."

So we descended down into a green meadow, and then, accompanying us, she
went to a very fair place, and drew me to her right side to sit down
beside her. And without more ado, large cushions of gold and of silk
were brought to her, under the shade of a willow, where, beneath the
trees, the waters of a spring ran fair and clear along a straight
channel fashioned and cut with skill through the green and tender
herbage.

And no longer did she remain standing, but she seated herself with me
beside her, and then the others withdrew them to a distance from us, and
sat them down, here and there, beside the stream. Then she began to
question me, for I confess that I knew not at that time how to converse
with her or with others, for I was still somewhat young.

And she began her discourse by making enquiry of me concerning a journey
from the which I was newly come, and, in especial, of the demeanour and
the appearance of the ladies, and, further, in what manner the Court,
the which the King and Queen held, was ordered. And I made her answer
according to my knowledge. And I remember me that we discoursed together
there of many things.

[Illustration: _"And now it is time that I tell how the grievous malady
began... for love's sake."_]

And now it is time that I tell of how the grievous malady began the
which has made me to suffer right cruelly for love's sake. Truly it is a
marvel to understand how it came to pass that love of her whom I had
ofttimes seen, but whom I had never before thought on, took possession
of my heart. It is like unto one who passes over the sea, exploring many
lands to discover that which he might find close at hand, but the which
he perceives not until another makes it known unto him. Thus in truth
did it befall me, for, by reason of my want of understanding, in nowise
did I perceive the grace of my precious lady until love put me in the
way, and I had but desired to see such an one in order to yield my heart
to her. For long had I seen her oft, but, until that day, no thought had
I given to her. Thus I had ready to my hand that which I went elsewhere
to seek. But, in order to allay my passion, love at length willed to
release my heart from this strife. And now, when this perfect one, who
has caused me sore trouble, spake to me, her speech and her gentle and
gracious bearing pleased me more than ever aforetime, and made me wholly
dumb. Intently did I observe her, and right well did I contemplate her
beauty, since she seemed to me to be more distinguished, and to have
much more of grace and sweetness, than I had ever before observed.

Then love, the playful archer, who saw my silent demeanour, and that I
was inclined unto love, took the arrow with the which it is his wont to
surprise lovers, and bent his bow, and drew it silently. But I heeded it
not. The arrow of a tender glance, the which is so pleasing and so
powerful, pierced me to the heart. Then was I sore bewildered. Verily
did I think myself to be lost when I felt the loving blow, but my heart
yielded itself to the amorous wound. In nowise was the wound mortal, for
it came to pass that the sting pierced me again and again.

Then her gentle, laughing eyes, all fraught with loving fetters, so
stirred my heart, that I knew not how to make answer unto her. Truly
must she have thought my look and my manner to be foolish, since I moved
neither hand nor foot, and I so ofttimes changed colour at her glance,
that it might have been thought that my heart trembled with fear. How
shall I set the matter forth briefly? If I longed to be made captive,
then in this I failed not.

Thus ended the life of my early youth. How to live otherwise, true love
now taught me. In this manner was I made captive from that hour.

Longwhiles did I remain there, and I discoursed in a simple manner, like
unto a child, and, without ceasing, I kindled the burning fire-brand in
my heart. When I gazed on her beauty, I was caught as is the moth in the
candle, or the bird in the lime, and no heed did I take of it.

And when I had tarried in this place nigh unto the third of a summer's
day, my cousin no longer remained in meditation, but said to me, "Take
your leave now, for, on my soul, methinks you have detained my Lady too
long here, and it is the time to sup."

Then the noble and courteous one, who is called fair and good, besought
me much to sup with her, but I excused me. For but a short while longer
did I linger there, and then I arose, and would have taken my leave, but
it behoved us first to take wine, and so we drank. And when we had
drunken and eaten, I besought her that of her grace it might please her
that I should escort her to her dwelling, but the fair one consented
not. So, without tarrying, I took leave of her and of them all.

Then love, the more to pierce my tender heart, caused me of a sudden to
receive a loving glance from her, the which came to me like a tender
greeting as I left the place, for, whiles I was departing,