μεταμορφώσεις

[Jeff Bernstein]

Canto 43. How the King forgave the Fox all things, and made him Sovereign and greatest over all his lands.

 

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The Lion King answered Reynard the Fox,

     saying, “Reynard, ye be one that oweth

     me homage, which I hope ye will always

     do so. And also I say that henceforth

     ye shall be of my council, and sitteth

     as one of my justices. See to it well

     that ye not misdo anymore, but keep faith.

     I return you to your might and power,

and Sir Reynard, ye shall be as ye were before.”

 

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The King said, “See that you further all matters

     to the best right; for when you set your thought

     to virtue and goodness, then no advice

     is like to yours in high counsel and sharp wit,

     nor subtler in finding remedy for trouble.

     May you stay righteous, and always be true.

     In fact, henceforth I shall step back from work,

    and do by your word and rule. And any

who misdo you shall suffer my vengeance on them.”

 

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“From now on ye shall speak and say my words

     for me, and in all our land you shall reign

     as king over us. This office is yours.

     Occupy it with responsibility.”

     Then all of Reynard’s friends and lineage

     thanked the King highly. The King said to all,

     “I would do more for your sake than ye know.”

     And the Court celebrated, and the King

added, “I pray you all remind him to be true.”

 

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Dame Rukenawe the She-Ape answered him.

    “Yes, my Lord, certainly, he shall be true,

     and never think the contrary. If he be grim,

     he were no longer our kin or lineage,

     and I would renounce him, and would ever

     hinder him to the best of my power.

     But we have nothing to worry about”

     (she added); “Reynard the Fox reminds us

of all that is best in the nature of the Beast.”

 

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Reynard the Fox, smiling, thanked his Aunt

     for her courteous words; then thanked the King,

     saying, “Dear Lord, I am not worthy to hold

     the worship that ye give to me. I shall think

     thereon, and give you answer expedient

     to your good grace.” Herewith he departed

     with his friends from the King, and left the Court.

     Now hear what happened to Isengrim the Wolf.

Bruno the Bear, Tibert the Cat, and Ersewynde

 

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and her children and all their lineage

     carried Isengrim’s body from the field

     and laid him down on a litter of hay,

     and covered him warm, and looked to his wounds

     which were well past the number of twenty.

     And there came to him masters and surgeons

     who washed his wounds and bound them; but his pains

     would be a bother for a while yet,

and he was so sick and feeble that he cried long.

 

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They rubbed him under his temples and eyes,

     but he would not leave off his loud wailing,

     and they were afraid that he had gone mad.

     The masters gave him a drink, and he slept;

     then they comforted his wife, and told her

     her husband was saved, and would keep his life,

     but they couldn’t promise about his balls.

     ¶ So the Court broke up. The Beasts departed

each to their places and the homes that they came from.

 

 

Canto 44. How the Fox with his friends and lineage departed nobly from the King and went to his castle Malperduys.

 

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I will leave you now. There is in the world

     much seed yet of the Fox which now groweth

     and cometh up sore. Though they wear no red,

     there roam more foxes now than e’er before.

     The righteous Beasts are now all lost to us;

     truth has been fordriven and exiled;

     those that abide with us covet and hate,

     envy, and spread falsehood; but I have said

enough; and who am I to write of these misdeeds?

 

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I have enough to worry with myself.

     So I think it better to hold my peace,

     suffer in silence, do the best I can,

     and in that time reform myself to be

     better than I am, for the common good.

     I counsel every person to do this,

     here and now in this present life of ours.

     Fixing ourselves would bring us best profit.

We must do it now for we can’t fix it later.

 

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Reynard’s friends and lineage to the number

     of forty also took leave of the King;

     and they went with Reynard through the forest;

     and deep inside the obscuring branches

     they came to Castle Malperdy. Meanwhile

     the Fox had been thinking of how right glad

     he was, that he had so composed himself

     before the King. He admired his work

which had let him go into the world without shame.

 

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He also thought of how he might hinder

     his enemies, and what to do should he

     be blamed for it; for such foresight is wise.

     So Fox and his Friends at deep Malperdy

     celebrated their fortune and happiness.

     Reynard did them a wonderful reverence,

     thanking them all friendlylike for their faith

     and the worship they had done and showed him.

He offered to each his help, if ever they had need.

 

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Then the Beasts departed, and each of them

     went to their houses. The Fox went to his wife

     Dame Ermelyne, who welcomed him friendly.

     He told her and his children all the wonder

     that befell him at Court, leaving out nothing.

     The children were right glad that their father

     was so enhancéd and great with the King.

     And the Fox lived with his Wife and Children

in great joy and gladness happily ever after.

 

 

                                                              POSTSCRIPT

 

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If anyone says different of the Fox

     than ye have heard or read, believe it a lie.

     But this that ye have heard or read, this ye

     may well believe. Who believeth it not,

     is not therefore out of the right belief;

     even so, there be many who saw it

     who hold no less doubt, although they saw it.

     On the other hand, there be many things

believed by many, though these things were never seen.

 

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Those that read the matter of this poem,

     though it be of jests, may find yet therein

     many a good wisdom, both to eschew

     sin and vices, and to come to virtue

     and worship. No true person among us

     is blamed herein; all is spoken generally.

     Let they who think themselves guilty repent,

     and those who are good, may God keep them so.

If I’ve influenced anything bad, blame the Fox.

 

Praying all them that shall see this little treatise / to correct and amend / Where they shall find fault / For I have not added nor mysnusshed but have followed as nigh as I can copy which was in Dutch / and by me William Caxton translated in to this rude and simple englyssh in the abbey of Westminster. / fynysshed the 6th day of June the year of our lord 1481 and the 21th year of the reign of Kynge Edward the iiijth /

 

The End

of

Scrooby’s Reynard the Fox

14 July 2024 – 29 September 2024

[Jeff Bernstein]

End of μεταμορφώσεις, Book II.

 

[Jeff Bernstein]

[Jeff Bernstein]

¶ How the Church of Saint Michel came to the hill

 

Now turn we to kynge Arthur at Flanders, where a farmer of the country came & told him how there was in the country of Constantyn beside Bretayne a great gyaunt, which had murdered & devoured much people of the country. He had been sustained seven years with the children of the familys of that land, & now all the children have been slayne & destroyed, & of late he hath taken the duchesse of Bretayne as she rode by with her men, & hath ledde her to his lodgynge high on a mountain, for to rauysshe & lye by her to her life’s end ¶ “Many people followed after her, more than five hundred, but not all of them together rescued her, but they left her shrykyng & cryenge lamentably. I suppose he hath slayn her in fulfyllynge his fowle lust of lechery. She was the wife of thy cousin sir Howel. Now as thou art a ryghtful kynge & noble conqueror, have pity on this lady & revenge us” ¶ “Fellow,” said kynge Arthur, “canst thou bring me to this gyaunt?” ¶ “Yes, sire,” said the good man. “Look yonder. Seest thou the rising smoke of two great fyres? There shalt thou find him; & more treasure than I suppose is in all of France” ¶ When the kynge had understanding of this piteous case he returned into his tent. He called to him sir Kaye & sir Bedevere & commanded them to ready horse & harness for himself & themselves. After evensong the three of them would ride on pylgrimage unto Saint Michel’s Mount ¶ Anon he made himself ready & armed him at all points, & took his horse & his shield; & they three departed & rode forth as fast as ever they might tell ¶ They came to the foreland of that mountain & there they alyghted. The kynge commanded them to wait, for he would go up the mountain himself. So he ascended until he came to a great fyre. There he found a widow wryngynge her hands & making great sorrow, sitting by a fresshe grave ¶ Kynge Arthur greeted her & asked of her wherefore she made such lamentation. She answered him & said, “Sir knyghte, speak softly! Yonder is a devill. If he hear thee speak he will come & destroy thee.” She never saw a knyghte of such great estate, nor so well-farynge a man, nor anyone so well-apparailled unto all ryghtes. He looked to be the noblest knyghte living, yet she said, “I think ye unhappy to be at this mountain, for such as fifty as you would not be able to bring him to ground. Behold!” said she. “Here lyeth a duchesse dead, the which was the fairest of all the world, wife to Sir Howel, Duke of Bretayne. That devill murdered her in forcynge her, & slytted her up vnto the nauyl when he took her” ¶ “Dame,” said the kynge, “I come with entreaty on behalf of the people.” “Fie on such treaties!” said she. “He setteth not by the kynge ne by no man else. But if ye have brought Arthur’s wife quene Gweneuer he shall be gladder than thou haddest given to him half of France” ¶ “I shall encounter him,” said the kynge, “and see what he can do, & the best shall have the victory.”  ¶ “Beware!” said the Dame. “Approach him not too nigh, for he hath vaynquysshed fifteen kynges. He hath made for himself a great jewelled coat embroidered with their beards.” “Well,” said Arthur, “I will accomplysshe my message, for all your fearful words.” & she said after him, “To tempt God is no wysdome” ¶ He went to the crest of the hille, & saw where the gyaunt sat at supper, sitting all naked, & gnawynge on the limb of a man; & behind him human parts were baking by a fyre, & three fair damoysels were turning three spits whereon were broached twelve children lately born, plump & precious like birdes ¶ When kynge Arthur beheld that pyteous sight he had great compassion for them so that his heart bled for sorrow ¶ The kynge called to the gyaunt & said, “God give thee short life & shameful death & the devill have thy soul! Why hast thou murdered these innocent children? Why murder the duchesse? Therefore this day thou shall die of my hand” ¶ Thenne the glutton started up, & took up a great clubbe & said, “Little man, I shall smote your head asunder!” & came nere & nere & swung at the kynge, who ducked & the clubbe brushed past; & Arthur carved him in his belly, so that his guttes & his entraylles fell to the ground, which came all bespurpled with blood; & he cutte off his genytours ¶ The gyaunt, screaming & howling, caught the kynge in his arms & they came together with a great dasshe, & Arthur thought the monster might crussh his ribbes ¶ Meanwhile the three maidens knelt down & called to Cryst for help & comfort of Arthur ¶ Thenne did Arthur welter & wring, so that he was then under & another time above, & so weltryng & walowynge they rolled downe the hylle tyl they came to the playne by the side of the sea; & ever as they scarmusshed together Arthur smote him with his dagger ¶ It fortuned they came to the place where the two faithful knyghtes were keeping Arthur’s horse. When they saw the kynge fast in the gyaunt’s arms they came & loosed him; & the gyaunt lay overthwart & still on the cold earth; & the kynge commanded sir Kaye to smite off the gyaunt’s head ¶ “This were well-done,” said the two knyghtes. ¶ Later, the head was sette upon a truncheon of a speare & borne to Sir Howel; after, it was put atop a tower that all the people may see & behold it ¶ “Go now ye two,” said Arthur, “up the mountain, & fetche me my shield & my sword; also the clubbe of iron; & take the treasure” ¶ So the knyghtes went, & some of the treasure they took; & returned again to the kynge ¶ Anon this was known throughout all the country, & the people came & thanked the kynge; & he said to them, “Give thanks to God; & distribute the goods among you”; for all the days of his life he made all good men ryche. ¶ Thenne kynge Arthur commanded his cousin sir Howel that he should ordaine for a church to be built on that hille in the worship of saint Michel ¶ On the morne after his great battle the kynge removed & came into Champayne, & there in a valley they pitched their tents ¶ Thus the good kynge finished his adventure with merveyllous honour & worship; & there we leave our heroes.

 

[Jeff Bernstein]

First appearance in English print?

"Do your worst, Mr. Hughes."

Sir Thomas Malory, 7.2

[Jeff Bernstein]

¶ How sir Launcelot got stuck naked in a tree

 

And soo sir Launcelot rode over marshes & valleys through many strange countrys tyl by fortune he came to a fair castle. As he passed by the walls he was ware of a Hawke come fleynge ouer his head toward a hyghe elme. Long lunes hung loosely about her feet. She flewe vnto the elme and took her perche ¶ But whenne she would have taken her flyghte again, she hung helpless by her legges, for the lunes were wrapped in the branches ¶ Sir Launcelot beheld the Hawke & saw how she hung & was sorry for her ¶ Meane whyle a lady came out of the castle & shee cryed on hyghe, “O Launcelot, Launcelot, good courteous knyghte, helpe me to get my hawke! My lord will destroye me, for I kepte the hawke & she slypped from me, & when my lord my husband knows this he will slee me!” “What is your lord’s name?” said sir Launcelot. “Sir,” she said, “his name is sir Phelot. He is a knyghte that follows vnto the kynge of Northgalys.” “Well, faire lady, now that ye knowe my name & requyre me of knyghthode to helpe you, I will doo what I may to get your hawke. Yet Godde knoweth I am a poor climber, & the tree is hyghe, with few branches to help me up” ¶ But his wily fyghtying taughte sir Launcelot to be wyse; soo surely he alyght & tethered his horse to the same tree; & he asked the lady to unarme him. “Thou art a well-ruled knyght,” she said with glad countenance. When he was vnarmed he put off all his clothes vnto his sherte & brieches. Thenne with myghte & hardyness he climbed vp to the Hawke ¶ He broke off a branch & tied the lunes to it; thenne he dropped the hawke & anon the lady got the hawke into her hand ¶ Thenne came sir Phelot out of the busshes all armed. With naked sword in hand he said, “Knyghte Launcelot, I’ve found you nicely” & the vylayn stode nere & nere to slee him ¶ “Ah, lady,” said sir Launcelot, “why have ye betrayed me? I have not deserved that ye should shewe me this straungenes.” “She hath done,” said sir Phelot, “only as I commanded her. Launcelot, thy houre is come that thou must die.” “That were shame vnto thee,” said sir Launcelot. “Thou, an armed knyghte, to slee a naked man by treason!” “Thou gettest none other grace,” said sir Phelot; “Help thyself as thou canst” ¶ “Since thou will doo none other,” said sir Launcelot, “hang my sworde vpon a branch that I may get it, & thenne doo thy best to slee me as thou canst.” “Nay, nay,” said sir Phelot, “for I knowe better than thou know. Now talk no more with me” ¶ “Alas,” thought sir Launcelot, “I am lyke to perysshe. Ah, that ever a knyghte should die weaponless!” And he almost wept for pity ¶ He looked above him & vnder hym. Over his head was a leafless branch. He broke it off & held it in his handes. Thenne he considered how his horse stoode. Thenne he began to come lower. Thenne he hurled the branch at sir Phelot, who ducked; & sir Launcelot leapt, & took another branch in hand & dropped onto his horse ¶ Sir Phelot lasshed at him, hoping to slee him; but sir Launcelot put away the stroke with the branch, & he smote him on the side of the heade so that he felle doune in a swoune to the ground ¶ Sir Launcelot took the sword out of the hand of sir Phelot & strucke off the head from the body. Thenne cryed the lady, “Alas! Why hast thou slayne my husband?” “I do no wrong,” said sir Launcelot, “for with falsehood ye both would have slee me with treason. Now it has fallen on you” ¶ Thenne she sounded as though she would die ¶ Meane whyle sir Launcelot got all his armour & put it on him for dread of more enemies, for the knyghte’s castle was nygh; & as soone as he myght he took his horse & thanked Godde & departed vnto the courte of kynge Arthur, & there he told the Order neither the begynnynge nor the endynge of this adventure; & he hoped at no time should it be discovered and knowen openly by some other.

[Jeff Bernstein]

[Jeff Bernstein]

[Jeff Bernstein]

How do we resist?

[Jeff Bernstein]

¶ How Sir Launcelot slew a dragon to winne the hande of a Naked Woman

NOW speake we of sir Launcelot du lake & of sir Galahad, sir Launcelot’s son, as the book of Frensshe rehearseth ¶ Afore the time that sir Galahad was gotten or borned, there came in a Hermit vnto kynge Arthur as the knyghtes satte at the table round. Whenne the Hermit sawe the Siege Perilous, the empty chair awayting the occupation of its hero, he enquyred of the kyng why that chair was voyd. Sir Arthur answered, “Never shalle none sitte in that syege but one—unless he be destroyed in the getting.” The Hermit asked, “Who is he who shall sitte there?” “Nay,” said Arthur. “We know not who shalle sitte therein” ¶ “I know,” said the Hermit. “You know what?” asked kynge Arthur. “He who shall sitte in that chair is yet vngotten & vnborne,” said the Hermit, “& who sits there,” he said, “shall winne the Royal Grail” ¶ Alle the knyghtes sat astonyed at the mention of the Sancgreal; & kynge Arthur remembrid Merlyn speake of such a wonder at the enterement of the xij kynges ¶ The Hermit said no more but departed from the courte of the table round ¶ Thenne after this feeste sir Launcelot rode on his adventure tyl on a time he passed ouer the bridge of Corbyn, & there he sawe the fairest tower that euer he sawe. There vnder the Tower stood many people; & alle these men & wymmen cryed at once to sir Launcelot. “Welcome, knyghte,” said they alle, “for by thee shalle we be helpen oute of danger.” “What mean ye,” said sir Launcelot, “that ye crye soo vpon me?” “Ah, faire knyght,” said they, “here is within this Tower a dolorous lady that hath been there in paynes many wynters & dayes. For euer she boyleth in scaldynge water. Sir Gawaine was here,” said alle the people, “but did not helpe her & soo he lefte her in payne.” “Soo may I,” said sir Launcelot, “leaue her in payne as well as sir Gawaine did.” “Nay,” said the people, “we knowe well that it is you who shalle deliuer her.” “Well,” said Launcelot, “thenne shewe me what I shalle doo” ¶ Soo they brought sir Launcelot into the tower. “To go up into the lady’s chambre,” they told him, “ye must deliver vs from a serpent that is here in this tombe” ¶ Sir Launcelot tooke his shelde & said, “Bringe me thither, & what I may doo vnto the pleasure of God & you, I wille doo” ¶ Soo whenne sir Launcelot came thither he sawe written vpon the tombe letters of gold that said HERE ONLY SHALLE A LEOPARD OF KYNGE’S BLOOD SLEE THIS SERPENT & ENGENDRE A LION ¶ Soo sir Launcelot lyfte vp the tombe & there came out an horryble & a fyendly dragon spyttynge fyre oute of his mouthe. Thenne sir Launcelot drewe his sword & fought with the dragon longe & atte laste with great payne sir Launcelot slewe that dragon ¶ Thence sir Launcelot ascended the Tower ¶ ’Twas by enchauntement that Quene Morgan & the Quene of Northgalys hadde locked a lady up there in many paynes because she was called the fairest lady of that countrey. She has been there five yeares, & neuer yet was she delyuerd oute of her great paynes by any knyghte of the world who had adventured the challenge of the serpent ¶ When sir Launcelot came to the chamber where the lady was, he took hold of the locked doores & heaved them off their iron bolts with his hands ¶ He wente in to the chambre that was as hot as any stewe & there he behelde the fairest lady that euer he sawe & she was naked as a needle ¶ & he tooke her by the hand ¶ Later, the people broughte her clothes, & whenne she was arrayed sir Launcelot thoughte she might be the fairest lady of all the world, if not for Quene Guinevere ¶ & alle the people gave thankynges vnto God & hym, and saluted him, and said, “What is your name? We requyre you of your knygthode telle us.” “My name,” he said, “is Launcelot du lake” ¶ Thenne this lady said to sir Launcelot, “Sire, if it please you wille ye goo with me into a chappel that we may give more loving & thankynge vnto God?” “Madame,” said sir Launcelot, “cometh with me & I wille goo with you.” ¶ So sir Launcelot and the Lady wente & gave furthur thankynges vnto God.

 

 

 

 

 

Edited 16 hours ago by Jeff Bernstein

[Jeff Bernstein]

Ah, the stories that blossom spontaneously from nature

 

[Jeff Bernstein]