[29]
THE BOY AND THE MANTLE
Percy MS., p. 284. Hales & Furnivall, II, 304.
This ballad and the two which follow it are clearly not of the same rise, and not meant for the same ears, as those which go before. They would come down by professional rather than by domestic tradition, through minstrels rather than knitters and weavers. They suit the hall better than the bower, the tavern or public square better than the cottage, and would not go to the spinning-wheel at all. An exceedingly good piece of minstrelsy 'The Boy and the Mantle' is, too; much livelier than most of the numerous variations on the somewhat overhandled theme.[211]
Of these, as nearest related, the fabliau or "romance" of Le Mantel Mautaillié, 'Cort Mantel,' must be put first: Montaiglon et Raynaud, Recueil Général des Fabliaux, III, 1, from four manuscripts, three of the thirteenth century, one of the fourteenth; and previously by Michel, from the three older manuscripts, in Wolf, Ueber die Lais, p. 324. A rendering of the fabliau in prose, existing in a single manuscript, was several times printed in the sixteenth century: given in Legrand, ed. Renouard, I, 126, and before, somewhat modernized, by Caylus, 'Les Manteaux,' Œuvres Badines, VI, 435.[212]
The story in 'Cort Mantel' goes thus. Arthur was holding full court at Pentecost, never more splendidly. Not only kings, dukes, and counts were there, but the attendance of all young bachelors had been commanded, and he that had a bele amie was to bring her. The court assembled on Saturday, and on Sunday all the world went to church. After service the queen took the ladies to her apartments, till dinner should be ready. But it was Arthur's wont not to dine that day until he had had or heard of some adventure;[213] dinner was kept waiting; and it was therefore with great satisfaction that the knights saw a handsome and courteous varlet arrive, who must certainly bring news; news that was not to be good to all, though some would be pleased (cf. stanza 5 of the ballad). A maid had sent him from a very distant country to ask a boon of the king. He was not to name the boon or the lady till he had the king's promise; but what he asked was no harm. The king having said that he would grant what was asked, the varlet took from a bag a beautiful mantle, of fairy workmanship. This mantle would fit no dame or damsel who had in any way misbehaved towards husband or lover; it would be too short or too long; and the boon was that the king should require all the ladies of the court to put it on.
The ladies were still waiting dinner, unconscious of what was coming. Gawain was sent to require their presence, and he simply told them that the magnificent mantle was to be given to the one it best fitted. The king repeated the assurance, and the queen, who wished much to win the mantle, was the first to try it on. It proved too short. Ywain suggested that a young lady who stood near the queen should try. This she readily did, and what was short before was shorter still. Kay, who had been making his comments unguardedly, now divulged the secret, and after that nobody cared to have to do with the mantle. The king said, We may as well give it back; but the varlet insisted on having the king's promise. There was general consternation and bad humor.
Kay called his mistress, and very confidently urged her to put on the mantle. She demurred, on the ground that she might give offence by forwardness; but this roused suspicion in Kay, and she had no resource but to go on. The mantle was again lamentably short. Bruns and Ydier let loose some gibes. Kay bade them wait; he had hopes for them. Gawain's amie next underwent the test, then Ywain's, then Perceval's. Still a sad disappointment. Many were the curses on the mantle that would fit nobody, and on him that brought it. Kay takes the unlucky ladies, one after the other, to sit with his mistress.
At this juncture Kay proposes that they shall have dinner, and continue the experiment by and by. The varlet is relentless; but Kay has the pleasure of seeing Ydier discomfited. And so they go on through the whole court, till the varlet says that he fears he shall be obliged to carry his mantle away with him. But first let the chambers be searched; some one may be in hiding who may save the credit of the court. The king orders a search, and they find one lady, not in hiding, but in her bed, because she is not well. Being told that she must come, she presents herself as soon as she can dress, greatly to the vexation of her lover, whose name is Carados Briebras. The varlet explains to her the quality of the mantle, and Carados, in verses very honorable to his heart, begs that she will not put it on if she has any misgivings.[214] The lady says very meekly that she dare not boast being better than other people, but, if it so please her lord, she will willingly don the mantle. This she does, and in sight of all the barons it is neither too short nor too long. "It was well we sent for her," says the varlet. "Lady, your lover ought to be delighted. I have carried this mantle to many courts, and of more than a thousand who have put it on you are the only one that has escaped disgrace. I give it to you, and well you deserve it." The king confirms the gift, and no one can gainsay.