Twelve weeks after, he left his spouse, impelled by his venturous and ambitious mind; for the king of Norway asked him to fight against a wild giant who had carried off his daughter and was destroying his castles. Torrent bade his mistress farewell, leaving her two golden rings as talismans, and set off with fifty companions. Arrived at the coast of Norway, he and his companions entered a dense forest, in which a great many wild beasts lived. His companions, seized with fear, parted from him, and continued their voyage at sea. They told the king of Norway the false tale that Torrent had perished on shore. The king then set out himself to rescue his daughter. Torrent meanwhile encountered a giant named Weraunt, Cate’s brother, and slew him in a hard struggle, but was himself wounded. In the giant’s castle he saved Gendres, daughter of the Norwegian king, and conducted her to her father. On the road they were met by a large train of gallant knights, and were then convoyed in triumph to the king’s court. There Torrent soon recovered from his wounds, and was amply rewarded with honours and presents. He stayed above twelve months at the Norwegian court. The false companions of Torrent were drowned in the sea by the king’s command, but one squire escaped to Portugal, and reported the tidings that Torrent yet remained in Norway. Soon after, as Desonelle was delivered of twins, the hatred of Calamond suddenly broke out against her. By his order, Desonelle and her two children were put to sea in a small boat; but a favourable wind saved them from ruin, and drove the boat upon the coast of Palestine. As she, helpless, wandered about the downs, a huge dragon (griffin or gripe) appeared, and seized one of her children, and immediately after a wild leopard dragged away the other. With submission she suffered her miserable fate, relying on the help of the Holy Virgin.
The king of Jerusalem, just returning from a voyage, happened to find the leopard with the child, which he ordered to be saved and delivered to him. Seeing from the foundling’s golden ring that the child was of noble descent, and pitying its helpless state, he took it into his palace, and brought him up as his own son (as it were) at his court. The child was named Leobertus.
The dragon or gripe with the other child was seen by a pious hermit, St. Antony, who, though son of the king of Greece, had in his youth forsaken the world. Through his prayer St. Mary made the dragon put down the infant; Antony carried him to his father, who adopted him and ordered him to be baptized. He was named Antony fice Greffoun (Antony, son of the griffin or gripe).
Desonelle wandered up and down, after the loss of her children, till she happened to meet the king of Nazareth hunting. He, recognizing her as the king of Portugal’s daughter, gave her a kind welcome and assistance. At his court she lived several years in happy retirement. Torrent returned at length into Portugal, notwithstanding all the entreaties of the Norwegian king that he would dwell in Norway somewhat longer. At his arrival, King Calamond took refuge in his stronghold, and greeted him from thence with scornful words. Torrent, after having summoned his friends from Arragon, Provence, and Calabre, conquered the castle, and took Calamond prisoner. The traitor was sent out to sea in a leaky boat, and perished.
In his stead, Torrent was elected king by all the noblemen of the empire, and took the crown. But forty days after this, he quitted his realm, having intrusted two knights with its government, and passed to the Holy Land at the head of a large force. There he fought fifteen years against the infidels, conquered several towns, and got immeasurable treasures as booty. The king of Jerusalem, hearing about Torrent’s deeds, and anxious for his own security, sent his son Leobertus, with an army of 50,000 men, against Torrent. A pitched battle began, but it was for a long time doubtful to which side victory would incline, till at last the two chiefs encountered. The son vanquishing his father decided the fate of the battle. Torrent was conveyed as a prisoner to Jerusalem, and thrown into a dungeon. There he lay above a year, till he was once overheard complaining his misfortunes by his son, who, touched with pity, prevailed upon the king to set Torrent at liberty. In this new state Torrent soon found an opportunity to show his valour and skill in arms, when a grand tournament was held at Jerusalem. There he proved sole victor over all the knights, and got the chief prize. The king of Nazareth, who had assisted at this joust, telling his folk at home who had won the prize, described the arms and escutcheon of the valiant knight. By these Desonelle recognized her beloved spouse. At her request the king called princes and knights from all parts of the world to a great tournament. The kings of Jerusalem, Greece, Leobertus, Antony fice Greffoun, and Torrent answered the call. Before an illustrious assembly of mighty princes and noble ladies, all of whom were surpassed by Desonelle in beauty and grace, the tournament began. Leobertus and Antony excelled in it, but the chief was Torrent, who performed wonders in the joust, vanquishing all valiant adversaries. The next morning Desonelle could no longer brook reserve, and was about to discover herself to Torrent; but overwhelmed with joy she fainted, when she had scarcely uttered the first words of greeting. It was not till midday that she was able to tell Torrent and the other knights her fates and those of her children. Then parents and children passionately embraced on recognizing each other. At Torrent’s request, all of them, with the kings of Nazareth, Jerusalem, and Greece, and many attendants, sailed for Portugal. There the nuptials of Torrent with Desonelle were celebrated with a great round of splendid festivities. Torrent was finally elected Emperor of Rome, and reigned a long time gloriously. He lies there buried in a fair abbey.
A benediction finishes the romance.
If we take a survey of the poem, we shall recognize in its conception a harmonious plan and a certain unity of action, which, as in most of the romances, is founded on the hero and the interest he affects us with (See Ten Brink, Engl. Literat., I. p. 317). In the centre of the action is placed Torrent’s love of Desonelle; for all the various combats that he undertakes against dragons and giants, against the prince of Arragon and King Calamond, are undertaken solely to gain him Desonelle. Even his expedition against the infidels and the fighting with his son are designed by Providence to make him find again his lost love. Halliwell (Preface, p. vii), therefore, is not right in deeming the romance ‘a rambling poem of adventures without much plot.’ The length and tediousness of the episodes may have prevented him from recognizing the unity of the whole. At the same time, however, it must be admitted that the poem cannot rank with the masterpieces of romantic poetry written in the same metre, like Amis and Amiloun, Ipomadon, Kyng of Tars, Octavian, either in the invention of plot or in the dissection of passions. The diction is so swelled with stereotyped phrases, and so surfeited with trivialities, that we may justly suppose the poem to have been composed at a period when romantic poetry had passed its best time, and had begun to decay. As to the authorship of the poem, it was probably composed by a monk. It is an easy thing to show peculiarities in the course of the story which are essentially monkish. As the romance begins and ends with a benediction, in the same way each deed and each adventure of the hero is introduced and finished by long prayers. Moreover, the poet points frequently to a direct interposition of Heaven (ll. 675, 1568, 1948); he describes the anguish and sorrow that Desonelle feels about her children’s baptism (ll. 1892-1896 and 2074-76); he mentions emphatically Communion and Confession (1272 and 2139), Masses (756 and 813); he finally praises the Emperor for founding churches and abbeys (l. 2658). On the other side, we find very few of those marks which characterize the works of minstrels: the poet seldom predicts the fates of his heroes to excite the attention of his auditors; he mentions only by the way the performances of the gleemen, and nowhere speaks of the rewards that they get.
Passing to a special inquiry into the origin of the story of Torrent, I cannot persuade myself that it is of the poet’s own invention, as that would be the only instance of a Middle-English romance not being taken from foreign originals (except, of course, Chaucer’s Sir Thopas, which was written to ridicule this whole branch of poetry), whilst slight alterations or additions were frequently introduced by the translators. A French original of the romance is supposed by Halliwell to have existed (Preface, vi). He says, ‘It is probably, like the second copy of the romance of Horn, a modernized version of an older English romance, which was itself translated from the French. I have not been able to discover any traces of the French original, but there are some singular allusions to its origin in the poem itself. I allude to the frequent references to the Book of Rome.[3] This term was applied to the French language, in which most of the old romances were originally written.’ As for me, I don’t think that we can much rely upon references of this kind, because they are common to all of these Middle-English romances. Of a somewhat greater weight is perhaps the fact that one or two of the proper names are French; and even the oath, ‘par l’amour de dieu,’ is worth mentioning. After all, there is no evident proof as to the French origin. But there is no doubt that the story of Torrent in its principal features—the adversities of a family separated by misfortunes, the mother robbed of her children by wild beasts, at last united again—proceeded from the old Eustache legend.[4-5] Therewith another motive is combined, that of the woman innocently condemned, on which motive a large stock of legends is founded; for instance, those of Crescentia, Sibilla, Oliva, Genovefa, Griseldis and Octavian legends. Upon this motive and its old origin from India, see Streve, ‘The Octavian legend,’ Erlangen Dissert., 84.
I will consider first the legend of Eustache in its original version. According to the Greek Martyr Acts, which were probably composed in the eighth century, this saint was before his baptism a captain of Trajan, named Placidus. As he one day hunted in the forest, the Saviour appeared to him between the antlers of a hart, and converted him. Placidus changed his name into Eustache, when he was baptized with his wife and sons. God announced to him by an angel his future martyrdom. Eustache was afflicted by dreadful calamities, lost all his estate, and was compelled to go abroad as a beggar with his wife and his children. As he went on board a ship bound for Egypt, his wife was seized by the shipmaster and carried off. Soon after, when Eustache was travelling along the shore, his two children were borne away by a lion and a leopard. Eustache then worked for a long time as a journeyman, till he was discovered by the Emperor Trajan, who had sent out messengers for him, and called him to his court. Reappointed captain, Eustache undertook an expedition against the Dacians. During this war he found his wife in a cottage as a gardener,—the shipmaster had fallen dead to the ground as he ventured to touch her,—and in the same cottage he found again his two sons as soldiers: herdsmen had rescued them from the wild beasts, and brought them up. Glad was their meeting again! But as they returned to Rome, they were all burnt in a glowing bull of brass by the Emperor’s order, because they refused to sacrifice to the heathen gods.
This legend, which reminds us at once of the story of Job, has been incorporated in almost all mediæval collections of legends, and upon it are founded some mediæval poems, which are enumerated by H. Knust in his splendid work Dos Obras Didácticas y dos Leyendas, Madrid, 1878; cf. R. Köhler, Zeitschrift für rom. phil. III, p. 272 ff., Varnhagen, Anglia, III, p. 399 ff.; two latin versions are edited by the same, Zeitschrift für deutsches Alterthum XXIV, p. 241 ff., and XXV, p. 1 ff.