Invocation

Harp of my Muse! Harp of the North!
Harp of Scott’s time-honoured worth!
Revive again that ancient sound!
In my more modest scale,
Sing with that poetry profound!

When love and warfare challenged them,
Eubulo and De Warenne
Braved all and did not fail:
Trembled not, nor shed a tear,
Even when the end seemed near:
Retell, my harp, their tale!

No doubt this story cast its spell
In Conisbrough’s great keep,
As Geoffrey, De Warenne’s minstrel,
Sang Lady Maud to sleep.
My harp is not like his!
An echo in the aftertime,
When men have almost done with rhyme,
And history’s almost forgot;
But there’s enough to shape my plot –
So here it is!

FITT FIRST

Prologue, Eubulo le Strange

Your name is Eubulo le Strange,
You are Earl Warenne’s squire,
You’re here to train to be a knight
And skill of arms acquire.

Earl Warenne was with Lancaster
’Gainst Edward’s favourite,
Piers Gaveston, a French upstart
With greater charm than wit.

You often went with Earl Warenne
To visit Pontefract,
You met the Lady Alice there,
And loved – but dared not act.

She is the loveliest lady
That you have ever known,
As beautiful as a summer’s day,
And, withal, high-born.

But Alice is Lancaster’s wife,
The marriage was arranged
When she was nine – no wonder then,
That they are long estranged.

You want to win the lady’s love –
But how, and what to do?
Perhaps the code of Courtly Love
Will tell you how to woo:

A trail of courage or of skill
Your worthiness can prove,
Or you can write a virelay,
Or rondeau to your love*.

> IF you decide to try to write a rondeau, GOTO 1, Rondeau to the Fair Alice; If you decide to prove your love in a trial of courage, GOTO 2, The Joust.

1, Rondeau to the Fair Alice

I
Wanting the fair Alice to know
My love, I’m writing this rondeau.
I’m not a Wace or Layamon,
And cannot write a ‘King Horn’ clone*,
But do my best my love to show.

My heart for her is all aglow
But sadly she always says no!
I lay awake from dark to dawn:
Wanting the fair Alice!

Her mouth is like a cupid’s bow,
Her eyes like diamonds seem to glow,
Her breasts – but I can’t look upon
Those secret fruits until she’s won –
Oh ’tis a torture of sweet woe
Wanting the fair Alice!

II
You show your poem to Lady Alice,
And though she wishes you no malice
She cannot help but smile:
“You’ll think my heart is hard as granite,
But you weren’t born ’neath rhyming planet;
This has a clumsy style!”

> GOTO 3, Lady Alice’s Declaration

2, The Joust

I
A joust is held by Lancaster
And you vow you will fight for her
And show that you are worth her favour
By your chivalrous behaviour.
Three knights are slain on the first day
And you regret your vow
And wish that you could sneak away –
But it is too late now!
The heralds’ trumpets loudly blare –
It’s your turn now, your foe is there:
A huge knight on a mighty charger,
Making you wish that you were larger!
You mount your horse and take your lance
Hoping that you’ll stand a chance
Then shouting, “Here’s for Lady Alice!”
You charge with all your skill and malice.
A mighty crash! – You’re seeing red,
And stars are spinning in your head,
You’re flying through the air!
Then suddenly with a crumpling sound,
Both horse and rider hit the ground,
And lie defeated there.

II
A mighty cheer comes from the crowd,
And then another just as loud –
The second is for you.
Because, although you lost the fight
You bravely took on the Great Knight
Which no-one else dared do.
So, though you won great honour there
You failed to win your lady fair,
And wonder what she’ll say
When you see her next day.

> GOTO 3, Lady Alice’s Declaration

3, Lady Alice’s Declaration

“You don’t have to do anything really,”
Says Alice with a sigh,
“Because my love is given freely,”
A tear welled in her eye,
“But I beg you, please persevere
In this task: get me out of here!”

Your heart is heavy, ’cause you know
That fealty* means you must say no.
You are the squire of De Warenne,
And he’s one of Lancaster’s men.

> READ Interlude 1 (next posting)