ADDITIONAL NOTES
Note A, p. [9].—The Grail and the Round Table, as originally drawn into Arthurian story, were in all probability survivals of features in old Celtic nature-worship.
Note B, p. [26].—Cavall, it may be noted, is referred to in the Welsh romance Geraint, Son of Erbin, as taking part in a stag-hunt under the leadership of Arthur, and is there called “Arthur’s darling dog” (annwylgi Arthur).
Note C, p. [94].—Argante—afterwards known as Morgain, or Morgan, la fée or le fay—is first heard of, in literature, in the poem called Vita Merlini, commonly dated 1148 and ascribed to Geoffrey of Monmouth (see p. 112). She there appears as a maiden, possessed of magic powers, who heals Arthur’s wounds after the battle of Camlan. Although she is usually spoken of by the romancers as being Arthur’s sister, she is also represented as one who hates, and is involved in certain malign schemes against, him. Her place in Arthurian story is one of the many points at which the records and popular legends of “the British King” touch the borders of fairy-land. The fairy element in Arthurian romance is a fascinating, albeit intricate, subject of study, but the scope and purpose of this little book allow only the briefest references to it. Those who are interested in the subject will find a very full, and suggestive, treatment of it in Studies in the Fairy Mythology of Arthurian Romance, by Lucy A. Paton (Radcliffe College Monographs, Boston, U.S.A., 1903).
Note D, p. [101].—Chrétien himself, in the opening lines of Cligés, states that he had written of “le roi Marc et Iseut la blonde.”
Note E, p. [105].—Tristram, or Tristan, is the most accomplished of all the heroes who are associated with Arthur. In the romances he is pre-eminent as hunter, horseman, linguist, musician, harp-player. He is also a liar of infinite resource.
Note F, p. [115].—Malory, it should be said, is indebted for some of his most picturesque touches in his account of the passing of Arthur and of other incidents to an unknown English poet who, probably in the fourteenth century, composed a metrical Le Morte Arthure. As the first edition of the present book has been accused of having done “grave injustice to our vernacular Arthurian literature before Malory” through failure to recognise the merits of “the unknown but most true poet whose rightful laurels have so long been worn by the prose writer,” an extract from the poem may be given in order to enable the reader to judge to which of the two, from a purely literary point of view, the “rightful laurels” ought to belong. Here is the poet’s account of the flinging of Excalibur:—
“The knyght was bothe hende and free;
To save that swerd he was fulle glad,
And thought, whethyr it better bee
Yif neuyr man it after had;
An I it caste in to the see,
Off mold was neuyr man so mad.
The swerd he hyd undyr a tree,
And sayd, ‘syr, I ded as ye me bad.’
‘What saw thow there?’ than sayd the kynge,
‘Telle me now, yiff thow can;’
‘Sertes, syr,’ he said, ‘nothynge
But watres depe, and waives wanne,’
‘A, now thou haste broke my byddynge!
Why hast thou do so, thow false man?
Another bode thou muste me brynge,’” etc.
Note G, p. [130].—It would be impossible, within the limits of such a book as this, to pass in review all the English Arthurian literature of the nineteenth century. William Morris’s Defence of Guinevere, King Arthur’s Tomb, and other Arthurian poems doubtless breathe much more of the primitive romantic spirit of the legends than Tennyson’s Idylls, but they are but slight experiments in comparison with Tennyson’s elaborate design. Then there are other works like Heber’s Morte Arthur, Lytton’s King Arthur, and Hawker of Morwenstow’s Quest of the Sangreal, which claim a place in any full survey of modern Arthurian literature, but are hardly of sufficient importance to have required notice in so brief a chapter as the last had, necessarily, to be.