hundred-fold; but when the sweetness of the telling is praised of
many, flowers mingle with the fruit upon the branch.

According to the witness of Priscian, it was the custom of ancient
writers to express obscurely some portions of their books, so that
those who came after might study with greater diligence to find the
thought within their words. The philosophers knew this well, and were
the more unwearied in labour, the more subtle in distinctions, so that
the truth might make them free. They were persuaded that he who would
keep himself unspotted from the world should search for knowledge,
that he might understand. To set evil from me, and to put away my
grief, I purposed to commence a book. I considered within myself
what fair story in the Latin or Romance I could turn into the common
tongue. But I found that all the stories had been written, and
scarcely it seemed the worth my doing, what so many had already done.
Then I called to mind those Lays I had so often heard. I doubted
nothing--for well I know--that our fathers fashioned them, that men
should bear in remembrance the deeds of those who have gone before.
Many a one, on many a day, the minstrel has chanted to my ear. I would
not that they should perish, forgotten, by the roadside. In my turn,
therefore, I have made of them a song, rhymed as well as I am able,
and often has their shaping kept me sleepless in my bed.

In your honour, most noble and courteous King, to whom joy is a
handmaid, and in whose heart all gracious things are rooted, I have
brought together these Lays, and told my tales in seemly rhyme. Ere
they speak for me, let me speak with my own mouth, and say, "Sire, I
offer you these verses. If you are pleased to receive them, the fairer
happiness will be mine, and the more lightly I shall go all the days
of my life. Do not deem that I think more highly of myself than I
ought to think, since I presume to proffer this, my gift." Hearken now
to the commencement of the matter.

II

THE LAY OF GUGEMAR

Hearken, oh gentles, to the words of Marie. When the minstrel tells
his tale, let the folk about the fire heed him willingly. For his part
the singer must be wary not to spoil good music with unseemly words.
Listen, oh lordlings, to the words of Marie, for she pains herself
grievously not to forget this thing. The craft is hard--then approve
the more sweetly him who carols the tune. But this is the way of the
world, that when a man or wom