Old French Romances | Page 5

resemble those of

Boccaccio's Princess of Babylon (ii. 7), who was herself taken from
one of the Greek romances by Xenophon of Ephesus. Here again, then,
we can trace back to Greek influence reaching Western Europe in the
twelfth century through the medium of the Crusades. But the tale finds
no echo among the folk, so far as I am aware, and is thus purely and
simply a romance of adventure.
This, however, is not the only story connected with the Crusades in
which the Soudan loves a lady of the Franks. Saladin is credited by the
chatty Chronicle of Rheims with having gained the love of Eleanor,
wife of Louis VII., when they were in Palestine on the Second Crusade.
As Saladin did not ascend the throne till twenty years later, chronology
is enabled to clear his memory of this piece of scandal. But its
existence chimes in with such relations between Moslem and Christian
as is represented in our story, which were clearly not regarded at the
time with any particular aversion by the folk; they agree with Cardinal
Mazarin on this point.
VI
So much for the origin of our tales. Yet who cares for origins nowadays?
We are all democrats now, and a tale, like a man, is welcomed for its
merits and not for its pedigree. Yet even democracy must own, that
pedigree often leaves its trace in style and manner, and certainly the
tales before us owe some of their charm to their lineage. "Out of
Byzantium by Old France" is a good strain by which to produce
thoroughbred romance.
Certainly we breathe the very air of romance in these stories. There is
none of your modern priggish care for the state of your soul. Men take
rank according to their might, women are valued for their beauty alone.
Adventures are to the adventurous, and the world is full of them. Every
place but that in which one is born is equally strange and wondrous.
Once beyond the bounds of the city walls and none knows what may
happen. We have stepped forth into the Land of Faerie, but at least we
are in the open air.
Mr. Pater seems to regard our stories as being a premonition of the

freedom and gaiety of the Renaissance rather than as especially
characteristic of the times of Romance. All that one need remark upon
such misconception is that it only proves that Mr. Pater knew less of
Romance Literature than he did of his favourite subject. The freshness,
the gaiety, the direct outlook into life are peculiar neither to Romance
nor Renaissance; their real source was the esprit Gaulois. But the
unquestioning, if somewhat external, piety, the immutability of the
caste system, the spirit of adventure, the frankly physical love of
woman, the large childlike wonder, these are of the essence of
Romance, and they are fully represented in the tales before us. Wonder
and reverence, are not these the parents of Romance? Intelligent
curiosity and intellectual doubt--those are what the Renaissance
brought. Without indulging in invidious comparisons between the
relative value of these gifts, I would turn back to our stories with the
remark that much of the wonder which they exhibit is due to the vague
localisation which runs through them. Rome, Paris, Byzantium, form
spots of light on the mediaeval map, but all between is in the dim
obscure where anything may occur, and the brave man moves about
with his life in his hands.
We thus obtain that absence or localisation which helps to give the
characteristic tone to mediaeval romance. Events happen in a sort of
sublime No Man's Land. They happen, as it were, at the root of the
mountains, on the glittering plain, and in short, we get news from
Nowhere. It seems, therefore, peculiarly appropriate that they should be
done into English in the same style and by the same hand that has
already written the annals of those countries of romance. Writing here,
in front of Mr. Morris's versions, I am speaking, as it were, before his
face, and must not say all that I should like in praise of the style in
which he has clothed them, and of its appropriateness for its present
purpose. I should merely like to recall the fact that it was used by him
in his versions of the Sagas as long ago as 1869. Since then it has been
adopted by all who desire to give an appropriate English dress to their
versions of classic or mediaeval masterpieces of a romantic character.
We may take it, I think, that this style has established itself as the only
one suitable for a romantic version, and who shall use it with ease and
grace if not its original inventor?

If their style suits Mr. Morris,