Upon these rules of accent and alliteration the strict form of Anglo-Saxon verse was based. But when the Normans came they brought a new form of poetry, and gradually rhymes began to take the place of alliteration. Layamon wrote his Brut more than a hundred years after the coming of the Normans, and although his poem is in the main alliterative, sometimes he has rhyming lines such as "mochel dal heo iwesten: mid harmen pen mesten," that is:--
"Great part they laid waste: With harm the most."
Sometimes even in translation the rhyme may be kept, as:--
"And faer forh nu to niht: In to Norewaieze forh riht."
which can be translated:--
"And fare forth now to-night Into Norway forth right."
At times, too, Layamon has neither rhyme nor alliteration in his lines, sometimes he has both, so that his poem is a link between the old poetry and the new.
I hope that you are not tired with this long explanation, for I think if you take the trouble to understand it, it may make the rest of this chapter more interesting. Now I will tell you a little more of the poem itself.
Layamon tells many wonderful stories of Arthur, from the time he was born to his last great battle in which he was killed, fighting against the rebel Modred.
This is how Layamon tells the story of Arthur"s death, or rather of his "pa.s.sing":
"Arthur went to Cornwall with a great army.
Modred heard that and he against him came With unnumbered folk. There were many of them fated.
Upon the Tambre they came together, The place was called Camelford, evermore has that name lasted.
And at Camelford were gathered sixty thousand And more thousands thereto. Modred was their chief.
Then hitherward gan ride Arthur the mighty With numberless folk fated though they were.
Upon the Tambre they came together, Drew their long swords, smote on the helmets, So that fire sprang forth. Spears were splintered, Shields gan shatter, shafts to break.
They fought all together folk unnumbered.
Tambre was in flood with unmeasured blood.
No man in the fight might any warrior know, Nor who did worse nor who did better so was the conflict mingled, For each slew downright were he swain were he knight.
There was Modred slain and robbed of his life day.
In the fight There were slain all the brave Arthur"s warriors n.o.ble.
And the Britons all of Arthur"s board, And all his lieges of many a kingdom.
And Arthur sore wounded with war spear broad.
Fifteen he had fearful wounds.
One might in the least two gloves thrust.
Then was there no more in the fight on life Of two hundred thousand men that there lay hewed in pieces But Arthur the king alone, and of his knights twain.
But Arthur was sore wounded wonderously much.
Then to him came a knave who was of his kindred.
He was Cador"s son the earl of Cornwall.
Constantine hight the knave. He was to the king dear.
Arthur him looked on where he lay on the field, And these words said with sorrowful heart.
Constantine thou art welcome thou wert Cador"s son, I give thee here my kingdom.
Guard thou my Britons so long as thou livest, And hold them all the laws that have in my days stood And all the good laws that in Uther"s days stood.
And I will fare to Avelon to the fairest of all maidens To Argente their Queen, an elf very fair, And she shall my wounds make all sound All whole me make with healing draughts, And afterwards I will come again to my kingdom And dwell with the Britons with mickle joy.
Even with the words that came upon the sea A short boat sailing, moving amid the waves And two women were therein wounderously clad.
And they took Arthur anon and bare him quickly And softly him adown laid and to glide forth gan they.
Then was it come what Merlin said whilom That unmeasured sorrow should be at Arthur"s forth faring.
Britons believe yet that he is still in life And dwelleth in Avelon with the fairest of all elves, And every Briton looketh still when Arthur shall return.
Was never the man born nor never the lady chosen Who knoweth of the sooth of Arthur to say more.
But erstwhile there was a wizard Merlin called.
He boded with words the which were sooth That an Arthur should yet come the English to help."
You see by this last line that Layamon has forgotten the difference between Briton and English. He has forgotten that in his lifetime Arthur fought against the English. To him Arthur has become an English hero. And perhaps he wrote these last words with the hope in his heart that some day some one would arise who would deliver his dear land from the rule of the stranger Normans. This, we know, happened. Not, indeed, by the might of one man, but by the might of the English spirit, the strong spirit which had never died, and which Layamon himself showed was still alive when he wrote his book in English.
Chapter VIII THE BEGINNING OF THE READING TIME
WE are now going on two hundred years to speak of another book about Arthur. This is Morte d"Arthur, by Sir Thomas Malory.
Up to this time all books had to be written by hand. But in the fifteenth century printing was discovered. This was one of the greatest things which ever happened for literature, for books then became much more plentiful and were not nearly so dear as they had been, and so many more people could afford to buy them.
And thus learning spread.
It is not quite known who first discovered the art of printing, but William Caxton was the first man who set up a printing-press in England. He was an English wool merchant who had gone to live in Bruges, but he was very fond of books, and after a time he gave up his wool business, came back to England, and began to write and print books. One of the first books he printed was Malory"s Morte d"Arthur.
In the preface Caxton tells us how, after he had printed some other books, many gentlemen came to him to ask him why he did not print a history of King Arthur, "which ought most to be remembered among us Englishmen afore all the Christian kings; to whom I answered that diverse men hold opinion that there was no such Arthur, and all such books as be made of him be but fained matters and fables."
But the gentlemen persuaded Caxton until at last he undertook to "imprint a book of the n.o.ble histories of the said King Arthur and of certaine of his knights, after a copy unto me delivered, which copy Sir Thomas Malory tooke out of certaine bookes in the Frenche, and reduced it into English."
It is a book, Caxton says, "wherein ye shall find many joyous and pleasant histories, and n.o.ble and renowned acts. . . . Doe after the good and leave the ill, and it shall bring you unto good fame and renowne. And for to pa.s.s the time this booke shall be pleasant to read in."
In 1485, when Morte d"Arthur was first printed, people indeed found it a book "pleasant to read in," and we find it so still.
It is written in English not unlike the English of to-day, and although it has a quaint, old-world sound, we can readily understand it.
Morte d"Arthur really means the death of Arthur, but the book tells not only of his death, but of his birth and life, and of the wonderful deeds of many of his knights. This is how Malory tells of the manner in which Arthur came to be king.
But first let me tell you that Uther Pendragon, the King, had died, and although Arthur was his son and should succeed to him, men knew it not. For after Arthur was born he was given to the wizard Merlin, who took the little baby to Sir Ector, a gallant knight, and charged him to care for him. And Sir Ector, knowing nothing of the child, brought him up as his own son.
Thus, after the death of the King, "the realm stood in great jeopardy a long while, for every lord that was mighty of men made him strong, and many weened to have been King.
"Then Merlin went to the Archbishop of Canterbury and counselled him for to send for all the lords of the realm, and all the gentlemen of arms, that they should come to London afore Christmas upon pain of cursing, and for this cause, that as Jesus was born on that night, that he would of his great mercy show some miracle, as he was come to be king of all mankind, for to show some miracle who should be right wise king of this realm.
So the Archbishop by the advice of Merlin, sent for all the lords and gentlemen of arms that they should come by Christmas even unto London. . . . So in the greatest church of London, whether it were Paul"s or not the French book maketh no mention, all the estates were long or* day in the church for to pray. And when matins and the first ma.s.s were done, there was seen in the churchyard, against the high altar, a great stone foursquare, like unto a marble stone, and in the midst thereof was like an anvil of steel a foot on high, and therein stuck a fair sword naked by the point, and letters there were written in gold about the sword that said thus:-- "Whoso pulleth out this sword of the stone and anvil is rightwise king born of all England."
*Before
"Then the people marvelled and told it to the Archbishop. . . .
So when all ma.s.ses were done, all the lords went to behold the stone and the sword. And when they saw the scripture, some essayed; such as would have been king. But none might stir the sword nor move it.
""He is not here," said the Archbishop, "that shall achieve the sword, but doubt not G.o.d will make him known. But this is my counsel," said the Archbishop, "that we let purvey ten knights, men of good fame, and they to keep the sword."
"So it was ordained, and then there was made a cry, that every man should essay that would, for to win the sword. . . .
"Now upon New Year"s Day, when the service was done, the barons rode unto the field, some to joust, and some to tourney, and so it happened that Sir Ector rode unto the jousts, and with him rode Sir Kay his son, and young Arthur that was his nourished brother. So as they rode to the jousts-ward, Sir Kay had lost his sword for he had left it at his father"s lodging, and so he prayed young Arthur for to ride for his sword.
""I will well," said Arthur, and rode fast after the sword, and when he came home, the lady and all were out to see the jousting.
Then was Arthur wroth and said to himself, "I will ride to the churchyard, and take the sword with me that sticketh in the stone, for my brother Sir Kay shall not be without a sword this day." So when he came to the churchyard Sir Arthur alit and tied his horse to the stile, and so he went to the tent and found no knights there, for they were at the jousting, and so he handled the sword by the handles, and lightly and fiercely pulled it out of the stone, and took his horse and rode his way until he came to his brother Sir Kay, and delivered him the sword.