Prologue

If one has received from God the great

gift of eloquence, it is his fate

and duty to exercise and display

these talents. If one would compose a lay

he must speak or rather write

as well as he can for men’s delight

and appreciation. The talent will first

blossom in his company’s thirst

for more and ever more of the same.

Then people will hear of him: his name

will spread about him. In his pursuit

of fame these blossoms will bloom, and fruit

may even appear in the form of books

in library shelves and tables and nooks.

Some poets dare to be obscure

to engage the scholars (although perhaps fewer

simple readers). Priscian describes

how poets can dupe the scholarly tribes

and by this contrarian endeavor

contrive for their works to live forever.

The scholars’ glosses and citations

provide them with harmless occupations

by which they avoid the rudenesses

of the rough-and-tumble world that is

the lot of most. My original scheme

was to find a Latin text that would seem

to lend itself to a version in our

French and pass a pleasant hour.

But others have done such things before

and I wanted to occupy myself with a more

worthwhile project. I thought of the lays

I had heard in my younger days

that I could preserve for those who care

about bold knights and ladies fair.

Some of these I have put into rhyme

not merely to pass some idle time

but to do some good. Late into the night

I have sat and worked by candlelight.

I did this in your honour, sire,

whom all good men respect and admire,

a paragon of virtue and taste.

If your kind acceptance graced

my little verses it would please

me greatly, and upon my knees

I offer them to you, hoping to win

a royal smile. Let us begin.