The messenger stops off at the King's mother's castle on the way. He tells her of the news, and she proceeds to get him drunk. Once he is unconscious, she burns the letter and writes a new one to tell her son that his wife had given birth to a demon. The next day the messenger continues on his way and gives the message to the King. On reading it the King weeps, and curses his fortune. However, he writes a letter ordering Sir Kadore to offer any and all support to Emaré and to refuse her nothing.
The messenger sets off with this message and again stops off at the mother's castle. She again gets him drunk, and again burns the letter, and writes a new one informing Sir Kadore to exile Emaré.
The King of Galys has returned home from the wars, and asks Sir Kadore for news. The King reads the false letter and says that he never wrote it. They interrogate the messenger who says that he stopped at the King's mother's castle. The King is furious and says he will burn her at the stake, but his lords decide instead that she should be exiled, and she flees (Wikipedia)
She bade a feast be made for him, and she spiced his wine
with something that would make him sleep. So he ate and drank, and
then felt drowsy, and went to sleep with his head on the table.
When the messenger awoke, he was rather ashamed at having slept;
and he had no idea as to what had been done while he was sleeping.
Now by her orders the servants of the queen-
mother were on the watch for the return of the
messenger, and when he reached Dover they invited him to sup at the house of their lady, whilst
his horses were being got ready. He agreed, and
was well entertained, and again the queen-mother
spiced his cup so that he fell asleep.
("Patient Helen", Sabine Baring-Gould)
:)
"But when the messenger came to the old queen's palace, she had him plied in the best of ways (hon lät pâ bästa sätt undfägna honom), so that he got drunk and fell asleep (han blev drucken och insomnade) when she, as he was unaware (honom ovetande), took the letters and read them...
But when the messenger came to the place where the old queen resided, scouts sent by her brought him into her presence, and she plied him in the very best of ways (hon undfägnade honom pâ sitt allra bästa), so that he got drunk and fell asleep (han blev drucken och insomnade)..." (Helena Antonia, Swedish chapbook)
:)
Summary: "He travels for two days, until he [···] stays with the Male Dame overnight. [···] she makes him drunk and reads his message [···] The unsuspecting messenger promises to return that way.
One day and night bring him to the queen mother, who again inebriates him [···] The messenger sets out the next day and goes on without stopping [···] His absence has lasted for three weeks.
The whole matter of the substituted messages comes out, with the messenger's narrative clearly implicating the queen mother."
To the messenger she does not at all show
the great treachery or the jealousy
that she had within her heart.
(It never emerged, for any consideration,
until she will pay for it,
as she will well know.)
To fool and deceive him,
she had him given good wine to drink.
The wretch did not take notice;
he drank so much of it and so willingly
that he quite took leave of his good sense (de son sens se délivra)
because of the strong wine that made him drunk.
When the wicked lady saw this,
she laughs for the evil she is thinking.
She talks to him and flatters him so much
that she made him lie down
right inside her closet that night.
He was longing to sleep.
Because of the wine, which had gone to his head,
he had his brain all muddled;
and so he went to sleep. But that woman is awake,
who is preparing to do evil.
She has come right up to his bed
and feels through his garments
until she has found the case
in which the letter was placed.
She is very glad when she has it.
With it she quickly goes away
and has called a clerk of hers
from whom she has not at all concealed
the evil deed that she wants to do.
"Come forward! You must do,"
she says, "what I shall tell you."
"Lady, speak and I shall act."
"Now detach this seal for me
so neatly and so well
that I may have the letter out of it
and that I can put another one there."
"Lady, willingly."
Then he sought for what he needed.
With a very thin-bladed pen-knife
he detaches it and takes out the letter.
He has it read out before his lady.
[···]
at the seal in the case;
when he sees it, that pleased him greatly.
He well realized that he was drunk;
but he has got over it quickly;
he thinks that they made him lie down there
to rest at his ease;
it is for love of those whom he served,
he believes, that such hospitality was given him.
But it is otherwise than he thinks.
He gets himself ready without delay.
The wicked lady was already up
and sent for the messenger;
he came to her without dallying.
She entreats him to return
her way; let nothing hinder him.
He told her that since she wishes it,
he does not mind doing so.
Willingly will he return that way;
no obstacle will hold him.
When he has pledged this to her,
he swiftly took leave;
she gives him leave, and he goes off.
He suspected no treachery;
[···]
She was very happy when she sees
the messenger who is coming from France.
And the messenger advances
until he greets her and she, him.
Then she said: "Now, let there be no lying!
Were you in France?" "Yes, Lady."
"Did you see my son? How does he do?"
"Very well, Lady. And he is so valiant
that he is winning all the tourneys."
"And at the news that he heard,
tell me if he rejoiced."
"Indeed, Lady, I well remember
that he went to read it in his chamber,
he and only two others.
They were there a rather long time.
I don't know what he saw there and what he did,
except that in turn I made up a letter
that I am carrying back to the seneschal.
And I am taking him word that great harm
will come to him if he does not do
what he will see set out in the letter."
When the lady hears this,
she dares not inquire of him further
lest he take notice;
for she desires to deceive him.
And so she wanted to let it go at that,
and thinks about putting him at ease.
Strong wines were not denied him,
and he made such a disposition of them
that he fell into a drunken state.
Thus he failed two times,
for he was never able to keep from it;
and afterward many a day he thought himself a fool.
Many evils are done through drunkenness;
therefore, the one who indulges in it is a great fool;
many have been killed through it,
and many a great deed hindered.
So it was with this man
who foolishly plunged into it.
The glutton drank so much that he became drunk;
not until the next day did he emerge
from drunkenness. This gladdened her,
the wicked, arrogant lady.
As she had done a short time before,
in her chamber, at her back,
she made him lie down that night.
There the messenger satisfied
his desire to sleep,
he who, on that score, was not wise.
When the dark night had come,
the king's mother did not hold back;
she has stolen his letter
and taken it into her chamber,
so that no one ever knew of it except the clerk
by whom was opened the seal
of the letter that the messenger carried.
The wicked lady exhorted him
and told him not to resist
her will, but to detach quickly
the seal that her son is sending.
The wicked clerk, who was in the way of evil,
just as his lady was,
said "Gladly," without urging.
He detaches the seal with the little pen-knife;
he draws out the letter that is inside,
then he has spread it flat
and read it out before his lady.
The king calls his seneschal,
not concealing his distress,
and has said to him without delay:
"The messenger who came from France,
have him come to me immediately.
I want to have words with him."
"Sire," he says, "very willingly."
He has sent for him by two squires.
They soon went and soon returned,
and brought the messenger
promply before the king,
trembling with fear;
he well believes that he has done wrong,
and his heart is constricted with fear.
The king sees him, and asks him,
when he had left the seneschal
to go straight to France,
by what route he had gone.
"And let there be no concealing from me
the lodging where you were received,
both coming and going.
With that, I wish to acquit you.
If you tell the truth, you will have nothing to fear;
if you die, you will soon know
what death dies a man who is hanged;
you will be defended by nothing else."
The messenger understood the king,
and has answered like a sensible man:
"Sire," he says, "I shall tell you
the whole truth, whatever I may get for it.
Outward bound, I slept at the home of your mother,
who was very hospitable towards me.
Through cunning, as I guess,
she had me drink of her strong wine,
until it went to my head.
Thus folly took hold of me,
and did with me as she pleased.
She made me lie in her closet
that night, until the next day,
when I arose quite early.
When I saw myself in that chamber,
my limbs trembled with fright.
I feared treachery so much
that I put my hand into my case.
I saw the seneschal's seal;
thus, I could not think of any evil.
As soon as I was ready to leave,
I saw her coming before me.
She prayed much for me not to leave her,
that I should return to her place,
and thus I promised her.
I went to you; I returned passing by her place,
and, the next day, I took myself for a fool.
I drank so much that night that I got drunk;
until the next day, I had not emerged from drunkenness.
And I lay in her closet,
where I had lain the other time,
as one who does not doubt of any evil
nor does think of any evil.
Since your seal was intact,
I did not notice at all
that they could have exchanged the letter.
But, since you did not write
the words that the seneschal read,
I do believe that the disloyal one,
your mother, had them changed;
but I couldn't do anything about it.
I pray that you don't make her die suffering.
I have told you everything I had to tell.
Do with me as you please."
[···]
how the foolish messenger went off,
the one who did not acquit himself wisely, (qui n'esploita pas comme sage)
how he went, how he returned,
and how afterwards he thought himself a fool
when the treachery was known
that the wicked lady had brought about
through the exchanged letter
[···]
(La Manekine, Philippe de Beaumanoir)
"Pour lui engagner et deçoivre,
lui fit donner bon vin à boire.
Ne s'en perçut le pautonnier:
s'en but tant et si volentiers He drank so much, on his own free will,
que de son sens se delivra that he was bereft of reason/consciousness
par le fort vin que l'enivra."
"Bien s'est aperçu qu'il fut ivre,
mais maintenant en est delivres: He realized that he had been drunk, and they
pense qu'on le fit là jesir made him stay for a while for him to recover.
pour réposer à son plaisir"
"Forts vins ne li furent véés,
Et il s'en est tel grad conreé
Qu'il est en ivresse déchu.
Ainsi fut il deux fois déchu.
Qu'il onques garder ne s'i sot,
Se s'en tint puis maint jour à sot
Par ivresse sont plus de mals faits ; Temperance rant, recalling Chaucer's
Pour c'est qu'il tout fou que s'y met. Man of Law's Tale, in which the messenger
Plus d'hommes sont étés tués is branded a prattling, reeking sinner.
Et maint grant bien fait delué ;
Ensemble fu-il de celui Drunken violence has had many a casualty.
Qui solement s'i embati. However, ethanol has no such effect upon his system.
Tant but le gars qu'il s'enivra, He drank so much that he became intoxicated.
Jusqu'au lendemain ne délivra T he effect lasted all night, until the next day.
D'ivresse; de ce fin lie
La méchante dame outrequidie.
La où le messager se dort,
Cui le vin demenoit plus fort
A son caves les ont tost mises
Et dedens se boiste rassises ;
De là se partent, si s'en vont
Comme ivre dormant laissé l'honte. He left his honour/shame by sleeping drunk.
(La Manekine, French chapbook)
:)
"She received the messenger quite wonderfully [···] Then, the old vixen [···] had strong wine brought for him. And, when the messenger was drunk, she purloined the letter".
("The Slavic King's Daughter", German chapbook)
:)
And thus, let's proceed to the scene in the tale itself. The original is not in pentameter, but I couldn't make it fit into the German verse. I give the highlighted lines original in German:
"The Lady for him lavishly did care,
and gave her faithful cupbearers commands
to serve him noble wine, glass upon glass,
until he crossed the threshold, could not hold, [···] dass er voll verduldete.
lost all good sense, and consciousness as well. Von seine Sinne er davon schiet,
He sold his loyalty to quench his thirst! also in Untreue geriet.
As he lay drunk, bereft of consciousness, Davon er betrunken gelag [···]
the wicked Lady carried on her ruse:
the letters from his pocket she did steal
[···]
[···] that he had drunk much more than he could hold, dass er von Trinken wird
so that the messenger forgot himself, das er sein Selbes vergisset,
till he yielded, defeated, overcome, das von er übermisset
turned coat, and gave his loyalty away. [···] bei Tage Treue ohne Zucht [···]
The Lady stayed disloyal till the end:
she called for the same wine of evenings past,
and got him drunk, as she had done before,
until he could not hold, lost consciousness,
and thus, trifled his loyalty once more.
She stole the second letter, as before [···]
The messenger was still stark unaware: Der Bote, der still wartet inne,
he lay there, lost in surreal, crazy dreams, er warf mit Unsinne,
for he had drunk until he fell asleep, dass er sich süß trinken lieg,
but all those joys would soon come to an end. davon Freude will vergehen.
When he woke up, he didn't have a clue
of what the Lady'd done behind his back,
the change of letters on that fateful night,
while he lay down, bereft of consciousness.
His clouded mind gave way to aching heart: Sein Dummheit erkannte Herzeleid:
he rested before getting on his steed. Er nahm Urlaub von die Reit.
He still thanked Her Ladyship for all
and promised he'll reward her even more
at the end of the war, with precious gifts
That made him proud and confident again."
That "aching heart" or "Herzeleid" that has made our drunken messenger have a rest is, like in Trivet's version, a run of the mill case of veisalgia, an affliction otherwise known as hangover or wrath of grapes.
(Mai und Beaflor, author unknown. Translated from the German [the original highlights shown in parallel] by the mistress of this blog)
:)
Then she plied him with as much beer and wine as he could drink and got him very drunk. When she could see that he was fit for nothing but sleep, she led him to his chamber. And when he was unconscious, she rifled through his personal belongings, found the letter and threw it into a fire.
His comfort was well attended to, he was given bread and ale, and wine, and again became very intoxicated. And when he was fast asleep the king's mother searched for the letter he was carrying, found it and cast it into the fire.
(Emaré, modern prose)
:)
But it is the original medieval retelling that contains a motif unseen in the modern ones. He is not "very drunk" or "drunk", but "bereft of reason":
She made hym dronken ( drunk ) of ale and wyne,
And when she sawe that hyt was tyme,
Tho chambur she wolde hym lede.
And when he was on slepe browght,
The qwene that was of wykked thowght,
Tho chambur gan she wende. (SIC)
(Emaré, original)
He made hym well at ese and fyne,
Bothe of brede, ale and wyne,
And that berafte hym hys reson.
(took away from him his reason)
When he was on slepe browght,
The false qwene hys lettur sowghte.
This Galys messenger is both "bereft of reason" and "brought on sleep (unconscious)".
(Emaré, with translation of highlighted passage and comments by the mistress of this blog)
:)
Bot he with strong wyn which he dronk
Forth with the travail of the day
Was drunke, aslepe and while he lay,
Sche hath hise lettres overseie
And formed in an other weie.
(John Gower, Confessio Amantis [original])
:)
But he from strong wine which he drank
And his exhaustion from the day
Fell sleeping drunk, and while he lay,
She took his letter from Allee
And formed another forgery.
(John Gower, Confessio Amantis [present-day English])
:)
That night she made the messenger so drunk with an evil drink which laid hold of his brain, and bound his senses so strongly, that he lay as if insensible, and as a dead man.
Then, in the morning, the messenger arose, quite sick and ill-at-ease through the badness of the drink which had envenomed his brain.
But the traitress comforted him greatly with
her false show ; and that night she made him drunk,
as before.
They could not suspect treachery in any quarter but that
of the messenger. And he at last said that he felt
guilty of no treason, nevertheless he freely
acknowledged to them his drunkenness at the court of Domild;
and if there were treason, there was
the source.
(Nicolas Trivet, Chronicle)
:)
Donegild answered, "The hour is late, and I have no letter writ. Tarry, and until the morning take your rest. I will then have ready a message for the King."
She plied the messenger with wine and ale, and while he slept the sleep of swine, she stealthily slipped out the letter from his casket and wickedly prepared another to put into its place.
The faithless servant had no mind to miss the good wine and ale of the King's mother,
therefore he went straightway to her abode. She made him welcome as before and did
everything that she could to please him and entertain him.
He drank as heavily as at his first visit, and again he fell into a swinish sleep.
The letter intrusted to his care was stolen from his casket, and in its stead one was placed...
He drank as heavily as at his first visit, and again he fell into a swinish sleep.
Such was the letter which the faithless messenger carried to the bishop; and when the good man read it,
...
The King ordered the faithless messenger to be brought before him, and under pain of torture he confessed where he had spent the night when on his way. So, step by step, the King traced out the whole sad story, and knew it was his own mother who, false to the allegiance she had sworn to him and to his rule, had driven his loving wife unto her death.
(Eva March Tappan)
:)
The messenger passed his time in eating and drinking till his wits were gone; so that, while he was snoring like a swine, his letters were secretly conveyed from his box, and another letter wickedly indited, to the following purport, was substituted for them.
Having arrived at the court of the queen mother, that fiend-like woman received him with much courtesy and favour, ordering him the same entertainments as before; and during his drunken sleep his letters were again stolen, and others, to the following purport, were substituted for them.
On the morrow the messenger made his way to the constable's castle and delivered to him the letter, who, when he had read its contents, grievously lamented the bitter wickedness of the sentence,
Soon after this, King Alla returned home and went straight to the castle, inquiring for his wife and child. At the sound of these words a sudden cold about the heart seized the faithful constable, who plainly laid before him the whole event, showing him at the same time the letter he had received, with his own seal affixed. The messenger was put to the rack till he had confessed distinctly where he had passed each night between his departure from Scotland and arrival at the royal castle. The hand that wrote the letter was discovered, with all the venom of this most cursed deed; and the effect of it was that Alla, in the transport of fury, slew his own mother. Thus ended the ill-spent life of the traitress to her allegiance, old Donegild.
("The Lawyer's Tale", Charles Cowden Clarke)
:)
He drunk himself silly with ale and wine and soon passed out. As he slept like a swine Donegild exchanged his letter for a forged one.
The messenger sped off for the castle but instead of delivering the letter directly to the Constable, he went first again to the Queen Mother’s court. Just where does this messenger’s allegiance lie – in his King or the drink? She again entertained him with food and wine and exchanged his letter once more for a forged one.
(Told by the Weye)
:)
The messenger drank heavily of wine and ale and while he slept like a swine his letters were secretly stolen from his box; and another letter concerning this matter was skillfully counterfeited and sinfully wrought, addressed to the king as if from the constable.
Oh messenger, full of drunkenness, your breath is strong, your limbs are always faltering, and you reveal all secrets. Your mind is lost, you jangle like a jay. Your face has taken on a new appearance. Where drunkenness abounds, no doubt, in any company, no secret is hidden.
He drank and stuffed his girdle well; he sleeps and snores in his swinish way all night until the sun began to rise.
(Chaucer, Man of Law's Tale, modernization I)
:)
This messenger drank sadly ale and wine,
And stolen were his letters privily
Out of his box, while he slept as a swine;
And counterfeited was full subtilly
Another letter, wrote full sinfully,
Unto the king, direct of this mattere
From his Constable, as ye shall after hear.
O messenger full fill'd of drunkenness,
Strong is thy breath, thy limbes falter aye,
And thou betrayest alle secretness;
Thy mind is lorn, thou janglest as a jay;
Thy face is turned in a new array;
Where drunkenness reigneth in any rout,
There is no counsel hid, withoute doubt.
He drank, and well his girdle underpight;
‘He stowed away plenty (of wine) under his girdle,’ i. e. drank his fill.
He slept, and eke he snored in his guise under his girdle
All night, until the sun began to rise.
(Chaucer, Man of Law's Tale)
:)
Courier goes to Donegild, hoping to get paid for letting her add something.
She gets him drunk and changes message to say that the baby is a freak.
Messenger again stops at the king's mother's house.
She gets him drunk and changes the kings message.
Messenger again gets drunk at Donegild's house on the way back.
Through Knaresborough, there did he
Arrive the first day, where he found
The mother of Allee, the crowned;
And as Domilda she was known,
By whom destruction's seeds were sown.
For he, who'd thanks and wages rate,
Goes to this lady to relate
His message of the newborn boy.
She listened with pretended joy
And him rewarded handsomely.
But in the night all secretly
She took the letters he did bring,
And point by point changed everything.
And she, when she had heard this thing,
Decided she would him invite
To feast and revel for the night,
Pretending like she him would thank.
But he from strong wine which he drank
And his exhaustion from the day
Fell sleeping drunk, and while he lay,
She took his letter from Allee
And formed another forgery.
(John Gower, Confessio Amantis [present-day English])
:)
Of ale and wine he guzzled many a swig,
And lost the letters unto him committed;
He slept, while in a stupor, like a pig;
Thus Donegild him sinfully outwitted
And had new letters subtly counterfeited.
O messenger, to alcohol a slave,
Your breath reeks, all things double you do see;
With you no confidence is kept, you knave.
You like a magpie chatter mindlessly;
Your speech is peppered with profanity.
Wherever drunken chums together chat,
No secret’s kept, you can be sure of that.
She welcomes him, and to him she does bring
That ale which is for him the only thing,
Besides carousing with the girls, that counts.
Snorting in bed, he tries to sleep it off,
Until the sun does night’s dark mantle doff.
[...]
(When the messenger confesses of his 'crime')
(Chaucer, Man of Law's Tale, modernization II)
:)
a drunken messenger
(Goucher)
:)
- Intercepts letters after encouraging the messenger to get drunk – as such, Donegild represents the medieval ale-wife (compare: Mme. Thénardier, or the innkeeper in Table-Be-Set/type 563 tales)
(English Questions)
[···] plying the messenger with ale and wine, intercepts the letter [···]
Susan Wittig
