SOURCE: “Wisdom Buildeth a Hut: Aucassin et Nicolette as Christian Comedy,” in Allegorica, Vol. 1, No. 1, Spring, 1976, pp. 250-68.

[In the following essay, Clark and Wasserman contend that Aucassin et Nicolette is better described as an instructional allegory than a parody, in that it uses inversion to highlight the absurdity of human sin.]

As a result of the growing critical awareness that irony was not an art mislaid by medieval writers until it was “rediscovered” by the Renaissance,¹ many romances, such as those of Chrétien de Troyes, are now recognized as parodies of a form which they were at first thought to trace out so mindlessly.² Yet in compensating for the previously ill-conceived charges of naivete, there may be the danger of reducing many a fine romance to little more than a belly laugh at the expense of the traditional genre. Such has been the case with Aucassin et Nicolette, which has begun to be treated as a rollicking parody of romance conventions.³ However, despite the fact that this tale can indeed be demonstrated to provide a plethora of inversions of the motifs most commonly associated with the genre, the narrative, like Chrétien's Erec et Enide, may best be thought of as an instructional allegory, rather than a parody, which uses inversion to point out the folly of human error instead of praising it.

Like its twelfth-century counterpart Erec et Enide,⁴Aucassin et Nicolette proves to be an allegory for the pursuance and attainment of wisdom and its attendant virtue of moderation.⁵ Therefore, if Aucassin does not always seem to be the very flower of knighthood—and one may certainly cite as evidence his reluctance to fight, his passivity and his occasional obtuseness—it is because the poet wishes to show the hero's evolving journey to a point at which he can embrace the wise and reject the foolish. The poet effects this growth within his hero by repeatedly placing him in decision-making situations and through trial and error training him to make the correct responses. For example, it is fitting that the tale begin with Aucassin being forced to choose between the luxury of pining for his beloved and the necessity of fulfilling his knightly duties and responsibilities—in other words, between love and honor.⁶

Aucassin chooses love and, hence, dishonor in societal terms. After bargaining for love with his father and in the process adopting a role associated with the Devil, who buys souls,⁷ Aucassin rides rashly and unthinkingly into battle and almost loses his head. Subsequently, having to exact a ransom for his captured enemy, he chooses to have his captive swear an oath against his father. All of these choices and actions are marked by rashness that demonstrates lack of proper thought and are justifiably labelled foolish; indeed, Aucassin's mother brands him as a fool (“Di va, faus! Que vex tu faire!”—3, 7⁸) and Aucassin's father calls his aspirations nothing more than foolish dreams (“Biax fix! fait li pere, tes enfanćes devés vos faire, nient baer a folie!”—10, 41-42⁹).

Aucassin's next decision consists in listening to and following the wise counsel of a fellow knight:

Montés sor un ceval, fait il, s’alés selonc ćele forest esbanoiier, si verrés ćes flors et ćes herbes s’orrés ćes oisellons canter. Par aventure orrés tel parole dont mix vos iert.

(20, 22-25)¹⁰

He rides to the woods where Nicolette waits and is promptly given a choice by the shepherds who tell him of the miraculous beast, i.e., Nicolette, which can cure his lovesickness:

Or le ćaciés, se vos volés, et se vos volés, si le laisçié; car je m’en sui bien acuités vers li.

(22, 40-42)¹¹

Aucassin correctly chooses to hunt for Nicolette. Yet while searching for his beloved, he encounters a grotesque and giant “yokel”¹² and, when the relative value of a greyhound or an ox comes into question, does not give the correct answer to the man in whom wisdom is clearly placed.¹³ However, berated by the yokel, Aucassin quickly repents, so that following this unfortunate mistake in judgment, he responds correctly to the crucial test of the hut¹⁴ which Nicolette describes as the proof of her lover's intentions:

A porpenser or se prist
qu’esprovera son ami,
s’i’ l’aime si com’il dist.

(19, 9-11)¹⁵

His next adventure takes him to the land of Torelore, where he again misjudges the situation, albeit an unusual one, to the chagrin of the king and the outright anger of the citizenry, who are, as they put it, not accustomed to fight to the death. Finally, separated from Nicolette once more, when the lovers are placed in separate ships and borne to the lands of their origin, he accepts the responsibilities of his birth, a great turnabout from his original behaviour, and correctly places himself in Nicolette's wise hands. When Aucassin's progress is evaluated, it soon becomes apparent that he keeps alternating between correct and incorrect responses: siege (wrong), shepherds (right), yokel (wrong), hut (right), Torelore (wrong), kingship (right), so that by trial and error he is brought from ignorance to wisdom and to the ability to make correct choices. Although he continues to make mistakes, they become progressively less severe and, more importantly, although he begins by making a wrong decision, he concludes by making the right one.¹⁶

Nicolette, in contrast, always chooses the right alternative and, hence, becomes the model for correct decision-making within the romance. She confronts distinct dilemmas three times, the exact number of times that Aucassin chooses correctly, and as will be shown later the heroine becomes identified with that same number. Her first dilemma comes as she stands on the walls of the castle, assesses her prospects, and states:

Se je me lais caïr, je briserai le col, et se je remain ći, on me prendera demain, si m’ardera on en un fu. Encor ainme je mix que je muire ći, que tos li pules me regardast demain a merveilles.

(16, 12-16)¹⁷

She makes the correct decision and flees to the woods where she is faced with yet another set of alternatives:

Or estoit li forés pres a deus arbalestees, qui bien duoit trente liues de lonc et de le, si i avoit beste sauvaǵes et serpentine. Ele ot paor que, s’ele i entroit, qu’eles ne l’oćesisçent, si se repensa que, s’on le trovoit ileuc, c’on le remenroit en le vile por ardoir.

(16, 28-32)¹⁸

The whole of the seventeenth section of the romance consists of Nicolette's poetic lament of the dilemma and her choice of flight. Her decision to flee once again is clearly the right one, for her life is spared. Thus, Nicolette twice rejects death by fire, yet in her third dilemma, she wisely reverses herself when her father wishes to arrange a marriage for her:

Si li veut on doner cascun jor baron un des plus haus rois de tote Espaigne. Mais ele se lairoit anćois pendre u ardoir, qu’ele en presist nul, tant fust rices.

(40, 10-12)¹⁹

What emerges appears not to be the foolish consistency of always avoiding death by fire, but rather the wisdom to recognize when such a fate, regardless of her personal feelings, would be the appropriate choice; in effect, she rejects fire, except as an instrument of martyrdom, in order to save her from an “unholy” marriage which would lead doctrinally to consumption in the fires of Hell.²⁰

Nicolette's preference of martyrdom above unholy marriage must be contrasted directly with Aucassin's oft repeated threats and desires for suicide. While Nicolette rightly avoids consumption in flames, Aucassin, already aflame with love, actively embraces conscription into Hell, for, as he states, he wants no part of Heaven with its martyrs, “qui sont nu et decauć et estrumelé, qui moeurent de faim et de soi et de froit et de mesaises” (6, 30-31),²¹ and instead accepts a Hell populated with “li bel clerc, et li bel cevalier qui sont mort as tornois et as rices gueres, et li boin serǵant et li franc home. Aveuc ćiax voil jou aler. Et s’i vont les beles dames cortoises, que eles ont deus amis ou trois avoc leur barons …” (6, 33-37).²² Finally Aucassin decides “Avoc ćiax voil jou aler, mais que j’aie Nicolete, ma tresdouće amie, aveuc mi” (6, 39-40).²³ However, the last statement provides the turning point of the argument for it becomes suddenly clear that Nicolette will not reside in Hell with him. This is shown in iconographical terms alone by the fact that Nicolette's foster father places her in a vaulted tower in order to keep her from the flames, while Aucassin is hidden away in a dungeon, significantly located below the surface of the ground, in a hellish dungeon, dark, cracked and imperfect. Nicolette's tower possesses one window which not only gives upon a pleasant garden but also indicates illumination, since the light shines into her chamber, and spiritual awareness, since the senses are to the man in much the same way as windows are to the tower.²⁴ It should also be noted that Nicolette's foster father places her in the tower to prevent her being cast into the flames, which metaphorically indicates an attempt to save her from Hell.

Not only is the fact that Nicolette will not reside with Aucassin in Hell demonstrated by the lovers' respective physical confines, but also Nicolette does not fit the description of those placed in Hell; in addition, Aucassin can be shown not really to adhere to what he has stated concerning Heaven and Hell. For one thing, Nicolette is not portrayed as a lady with several lovers; she is, in fact, faithful to the point of martyrdom. Aucassin as well gives ample testament to belief in fidelity when he is brought to the idea of suicide by Nicolette's hypothetical infidelity:

Et puis que vos ariiés jut en lit a home s’el mien non, or ne quidiés mie que j’atendisse tant que je trovasse coutel dont je me peüsçe ferir el cuer et oćirre! Naie voir, tant n’atenderoie je mie, ains m’esquelderoie de si lonc que je verroie une maisiere u une bisse pierre, s’i hurteroie si durement me teste, que j’en feroie les ex voler, et que je m’esćerveleroie tos. Encor ameroie je mix a morir de si faite mort, que je seüsçe que vos eüsçiés jut en lit a home s’el mien non.

(14, 6-14)²⁵

This is to say that, despite Aucassin's protestations to the contrary, he does not want to spend eternity in the Hell which he has described to Nicolette's father, if women there have more than one lover, any more than he wants to spend the rest of his earthly life in the dungeon in which his actions and preferences have placed him. In fact, even the knighthood which Aucassin says leads to Hell is not embraced by Aucassin, since he refuses to fight to defend his own inheritance. Once he begins his search for Nicolette and wisdom, however, he even comes to resemble the Christ-like holy martyrs whom he previously derided as inhabitants of Heaven, since, as the narrator takes pains to note:

Ne quidiés mie que les ronćes et les espines l’esparnaisçent! Nenil niént! Ains li desronpent ses dras, qu’a painnes peüst on nouer desu el plus entier, et que li sans li isçi des bras et des costés et des ganbes en quarante lius u en trente, qu’aprés le vallet peüst on suïr le traće du sanc qui caoit sor l’erbe.

(24, 2-7)²⁶

Thus, the problem of proper decision-making has much greater implications than the winning of the individual's heart's desire, and becomes an issue of eschatological importance, for at the core of this pleasant romance lies the problem of the central character's embracing either Heaven or Hell. In the beginning Aucassin accepts Hell as the appropriate consequence of the life he desires to lead, yet Nicolette, who is consistently portrayed as the wisdom which recognizes and wishes to flee from danger,²⁷ saves him from his own foolish ambitions. It can be no coincidence that she repeatedly insists that Aucassin find her in three days (18, 34; 22, 39)²⁸ thereby symbolizing the harrowing of his soul from its self-inflicted Hell.²⁹

But the question remains, who is Nicolette that she can, like Beatrice, guide the soul from Hell to Paradise? She is, perhaps, best described in her own words, spoken while disguised as a jongleur, one of the people Aucassin thought resided in Hell:

… j’en sai con de le plus france creature et de la plus ǵentil et de le plus saǵe qui onques fust nee …

(40, 5-6)³⁰

Nobleness and gentleness are general, abstract qualities, but wisdom is distinct and a virtue not often found in romance heroines. In the same vein, Nicolette is an unknown entity, a typical romance heroine, until she is at last revealed to be the daughter of a king and is proclaimed to be high-born and wise. Again, since it is revealed that her father is a king, it is natural that she be described as high-born,³¹ yet at this strategic moment of revelation she is also named wise and, indeed, the reader does not learn Nicolette's true identity until the hero has become wise, so that the artistic accomplishment of the relaying of this information parallels the epistemology whereby Aucassin comes to know wisdom.

Of all Nicolette's myriad good qualities, her wisdom proves to be the one which comes most naturally and most often to the fore. Whereas Aucassin is rebuked for his foolishness in spurning his knightly responsibilities, and then ironically goes on to upbraid the king of Torelore for being a fool for abandoning his kingly and husbandly duties, Nicolette informs that same king:

‘Sire rois de Torelore,’
će dist la bele Nichole,
‘vostre ǵens me tient por fole!’

(33, 1-3)³²

Shortly after, she is named wise (“Nicole li preus, li saǵe”—37, 1) and Aucassin is made a king. Thus, one sees Aucassin following wisdom, learning to apply it, and slowly casting off the well-earned name of “fool.”

However, before Aucassin can apply wisdom, he must learn what wisdom is. From the beginning it is clear that he neither understands what he seeks nor how to obtain it. This ignorance has already been seen in his descriptions of Heaven and Hell. Similarly, he believes wisdom to lie in superficialities of form as revealed in the love debate, so that when Nicolette escapes and comes to see him, he insists on initiating a rather pointless argument over whether men are more faithful than women. Nicolette simply ignores the whole question as being unimportant if not silly. Instead, throughout the story, she poses a series of problems and riddles for Aucassin to solve. First, she insists upon the rather transparent conundrum of the miraculous beast and later presents Aucassin with the test of the hut. As Aucassin develops his gamesmanship, he understands more about knowledge and how it is applied. To illustrate, one might consider the scene in the first part of the tale, when Aucassin describes the healing of a sick pilgrim, such as those with whom he populated Heaven, by means of Nicolette's raising her skirt to expose her leg. Upon first consideration, the recounting of the event with its obvious sexual overtones seems worthy enough of the man who is preoccupied with the love debate, but when Aucassin himself is wounded and cured by Nicolette, the healing process seems quite different, so that the reader can conclude that Aucassin has been mistaken in his interpretation of the anecdote of Nicolette and the pilgrim, since his primary interest in the little story is sexual and he misses the real thrust of the story, which is that of Nicolette's healing power; he finds fascination in the tale because it describes Nicolette's advantages as a beautiful lover rather than as a miracle-working martyr-saint whose actions with the sick pilgrim emulate those of Christ. In this regard the anecdote itself proves a unique representation of the allegorizing process and the problem of how to read a romance, for if it is proper to couch healing powers in the flesh of a naked limb, then it is certainly possible, and even probable, that the story which contains this incident couches the message of wisdom in the fleshly characters of a romance.³³ Thus, one sees here the carrot-on-a-stick theory of learning, in which God sends messages not only in their most appropriate but also their most palatable form, in order to lead men to wisdom. Thus, it is with an exposed limb that Nicolette first catches Aucassin's fancy, much in the tradition of the seductive spiritual healer of the Canticum Canticorum, and later she will use the same imagery in her riddle. For this reason, Nicolette's insistence that Aucassin will not give five hundred pieces of gold for one of the limbs of the miraculous beast in the forest becomes explicable, since indeed he, too, now has become a pilgrim and is seeking to be healed. Accordingly, Nicolette binds Aucassin's injured limb, and since this action occurs within the three-day period already associated with the Harrowing of Hell, she is in a sense binding the wound, the evil and disjointed part of Aucassin, thereby metaphorically binding Satan as well.

Just as Aucassin has failed to grasp the sententia of the anecdote involving Nicolette's bared limb, so has he again been guilty of gross misunderstanding of the nature of things, as is readily apparent upon re-examination of his acceptance of Hell. He was told:

Enseurquetot que cuideriés vous avoir gaegnié, se vous l’avies asognentee ne mise a vo lit? Mout i ariés peu conquis, car tos les jors du siecle en seroit vo arme en enfer; qu’en paradis n’enterriés vos ja.

(6, 20-24)³⁴

Aucassin's acceptance of Hell, then, is based on the premise that Nicolette will be his mistress, which, given the nature of Nicolette, is false. It is not until the end of the tale that Aucassin learns the proper relationship between man and wisdom and, abandoning the idea of the necessity of having Nicolette as a mistress, takes her to wife, as is proper.³⁵

It has already been pointed out that Aucassin is not much of a knight, but one finds in the romance a serious rather than an entirely humorous cast to the portrayal where inversion evokes more overtones of damnation than laughter. The faults which characterize Aucassin the knight are rashness, overindulgence and despair, all of which betoken the immoderation of thought and deed which arises from lack of wisdom and the inability to make correct judgments. Nowhere is this more graphically displayed than in Aucassin's first charge into battle. This passage must be examined at length since it provides the audience with the first real glimpse of Aucassin in action and therefore also establishes much of the key imagery which recurs throughout the romance.

The poet goes to great lengths to present the mental state of his protagonist as he rides into the fray:

Or ne quidiés vous qu’il pensast n’a bués n’a naces n’a civrès prendre, ne qu’il ferist cevalier n autres lui! Nenil niênt!

(10, 6-8)³⁶

It proves curious that the poet notes that Aucassin has no thought of oxen, since oxen will reappear in the tale of the giant yokel when Aucassin will be shamed for thinking only of his greyhound³⁷ while the wise giant tells of the lost oxen of which Aucassin was unaware. Significantly, medieval emblems show the ox as a symbol of submissiveness, patience, and a spirit of self-sacrifice,³⁸ the very qualities of which Aucassin is indeed unmindful.

After such a reckless entrance into battle, Aucassin is subsequently captured and makes some rather remarkable conclusions about the imminent fate of his head:

Ha! Dix, fait il, doucé creature! Sont ćou mi anemi mortel qui ći me mainent, et qui ja me cauperont le teste? Et puis que j’arai la teste caupee, ja mais ne parlerai a Nicolete, me douće amie, que je tant aim.

(10, 17-20)³⁹

Rather than being simply an outlandish tribute to silliness intended to provide a parody of knightly sentiments,⁴⁰ this exclamation presents an important iconographical addition to the presentation of Aucassin as a foolish man. The source of the knight's foolishness, a foolishness which makes him mistake Hell for Heaven, is made immediately clear. He is plainly guilty of excessive love to the point of idolatry,⁴¹ for the language of his lament makes God a “douce creature,” a term for a lover rather than for a deity. And this idolatry of his beloved is seen overtly in Aucassin's treatment of the lock of Nicolette's hair as a holy relic.⁴² Since Aucassin's problem both here and in the case of the yokel's oxen seems to be largely a matter of perception, the poet chooses to express the knight's loss of judgment as a loss of his head, the proverbial seat of wisdom. In fact, Aucassin himself appears to be preoccupied with his own misconceptions concerning the head. At the thought of losing his own head, Aucassin revives in battle and promptly pummels his enemy over the head (10, 33-34)⁴³ and later threatens to behead that same captive if he will not swear an oath against Count Garin (10, 76-77)⁴⁴. The Knight's problem, as in the case of confusing his love of God for the fleshly love of a woman,⁴⁵ is one of judgment and perception, since he does not understand that the impulses of the heart and the head are contrary, and not co-incidental:

Par mon cief! qui que les [his father's promises to let him see Nicolette] oblit, je nes voil mie obliër, ains me tient mout au cuer.

(10, 46-48)⁴⁶

In this passage he clearly equates the two. He has lost his heart and as a result of this false equation proceeds to put his head in jeopardy. Finally, in a fit of jealousy—indeed, madness—Aucassin declares:

Et puis que vos ariiés jut en lit a home s’el mien non, or ne quidiés mie que j’atendisse tant que je trovasse coutel dont je me peüsçe ferir el cuer et ocirre! Naie voir, tant n’atenderoie je mie, ains m’esquelderoie de si lonc que je verroie une maisiere u une bisse pierre, s’i hurteroie si durement me teste, que j’en feroie les ex voler, et que je m’esćerveleroie tos.

(14, 6-12)⁴⁷

Returning to the battle in which Aucassin first voices his concern for his head, one notes that Aucassin immediately upon recognizing his perilous situation lashes out with the immoderation of a wild animal, “con li senglers quant li cien l’asalent en le forest” (10, 27)⁴⁸, and promptly slays ten men and wounds seven. However, if Aucassin is like the boar, that animal, with its murderous lack of restraint, is one of the very beasts which Nicolette fears before entering the forest. Furthermore, when Aucassin in his boar-like frenzy kills first ten knights and then wounds seven, he demonstrates through use of symbolic numbers⁴⁹ a disregard for the moderation which order and law provide and which is symbolized by the number ten, associated with perfection, completeness and law through the Ten Commandments.⁵⁰ Indeed, Aucassin, who has already embraced Hell, will be seen to be guilty of breaking most of the Ten Commandments either in thought or in deed, as he worships an idol in Nicolette, refuses to honour his father and mother, wishes to be guilty of adultery, covets Nicolette, proves guilty of murder in Torelore, and lies concerning the greyhound, to name but a few of his misdeeds. Similarly, when this berserker-like knight strikes out in his immoderation and subsequently wounds seven more men (“foes”) he in effect renounces the seven cardinal virtues or, more likely, the seven sacraments, or any other of the positive groupings of seven which are common in medieval thought,⁵¹ and in Samson-like blindness topples over the seven pillars which support the House of Wisdom. Accordingly, the first real proof that Aucassin is beginning to renounce his previous immoderate behaviour is his decision to reside at the hut which Nicolette has built at the intersection of seven paths in the forest.

However, the most striking and most important aspect of Aucassin's immoderation and rejection of wisdom appears in the initial charge into battle which has already been seen to prove so much of the iconographical foundation of the poem:

Onques ne l’en sovint, ains pensa tant a Nicolete, sa doucé amie, qu’il oublia ses resnes et quanques il dut faire. Et li cevax, qui ot senti les esperons, l’en porta parmi le presse, se se lanće tres entremi ses anemis.

(10, 9-12)⁵²

In interpreting this curious passage, one should keep in mind the negative connotations of the horse, which was often associated with the flesh and man's libidinous self in medieval iconography. As D. W. Robertson points out in his study of this motif,⁵³ one can with right reason bridle one's horse. In fact, reins were often considered symbolic of the restraints which wisdom exerted over the flesh when the two were brought into the proper hierarchical relationship. Certainly Aucassin has lost all restraint and here appropriately drops the reins and allows his horse to take him whither it will. However, the poet makes repeated and striking use of this widely known medieval metaphor, which finds one of its most famous applications in the prologue to Andreas' treatise, in order to bind together various segments of his own romance, since bridles are found in almost every adventure in Aucassin et Nicolette. What Aucassin does with his bridle is often the barometer of his wisdom in a given situation. For example, when he follows the wise advice of a fellow knight and decides to ride off into the woods in order to cheer himself, he places a bridle upon his horse. As he is riding, he hears the song of the shepherds and, assuming that it concerns Nicolette, begins to prick his horse; this sign of immoderation is almost immediately followed by his rather sharp questions which incite a brief argument between himself and the shepherds. It is not until he reins himself in that he is told that much-desired riddle, which he promptly solves. After once again being remonstrated with for his lack of wisdom and taking the lesson to heart, Aucassin immediately reins in his horse when he sees wisdom's hut, yet in a sudden reverie for Nicolette which parallels the language of his first dropping of the reins, falls from his horse and once again learns the painful lesson of the need for self-control and thus humbled, crawls to the hut and ties his horse to a neighboring thorn. The thorn itself proves significant as a symbol for tribulation,⁵⁴ which hearkens back to the purifying forty wounds received by Aucassin, and as a symbol of patient endurance, which likewise is reminiscent of the lost oxen of which Aucassin was previously unmindful.

Having internalized the experience of the hut and gained wisdom in the person of Nicolette, Aucassin yields himself to the proper relationship between himself and his wise councillor and accordingly places Nicolette on the horse before him, so that she may theoretically be the pilot or guide of his future actions. At this point the poet shows himself to be a subtle master of language, since the phrase “metre a raison” (27, 8)⁵⁵ means “to address,” yet the word “raison” itself gives testimony to the reason which Nicolette represents. Again the attainment of reason and the iconography of reins coincide, for having followed Nicolette's advice to flee, the pair arrives at the sea, where Aucassin dismounts and appropriately has his damsel in one hand and his horse's reins in the other, so that the attainment of wisdom goes hand in hand with the reining in of one's lower self. Thus, when Aucassin goes to upbraid the king of Torelore for forsaking his social responsibilities, a lesson which Aucassin has just learned of late, the hero leaves Nicolette holding his horse, as the poet takes pains to note. However, Aucassin slips one final time on his tortuous path to reason, and this, too, finds its expression within the metaphor of horses and reins. Upon being shown the mock battle of apples and cheeses, the hero asks the king if he would like him to avenge him on them, to which the king replies in the affirmative. The result is that Aucassin briefly mirrors his previous boar-like propensity for killing, which forces the king to take him by the bridle and say to him:

Sire, dist li rois, trop en avés vos fait. Il n’est mie costume que nos entroćions li uns l’autre.

(32, 14-15)⁵⁶

What has happened here is that Aucassin is indeed guilty of wrong action, in that he is guilty of too much action, that is, of lack of moderation.

Thus, when one considers the iconography of the romance and the progression of the hero through his many decision-making adventures, the observations of the many critics who have discussed the tale do not serve as well as those of a fellow countryman who wrote a similar tale of wisdom thirty years before. As Chrétien de Troyes points out concerning his tale of Erec et Enide:

Li vilains dit an son respit
Que tel chose a l’an an despit,
Qui mout vaut miauz que l’an ne cuide.
Por ce fet bien qui son estuide
Atorne a bien, quel que il l’et;
Car qui son estuide antrelet,
Tost i puet tel chose teisir,
Qui mout vandroit puis a pleisir.
Por ce dit Crestiiens de Troies
Que reisons est que totes voies
Doit chascuns panser et antandre
A bien dire et a bien aprandre,
Et tret d’un conte d’avanture
Une mout bele conjointure,
Par qu’an puet prover et savoir
Que cil ne fet mie savoir,
Qui sa sciance n’abandone
Tant con Deus la grace l’an done.

(1-18)⁵⁷

In this light, Aucassin et Nicolette is neither an improbable love story aimed at the swooning hearts of thirteenth-century courtiers, nor a light-hearted romp through courtly conventions, but a parable which instructs by demonstrating the absurdity of sin and is thus better labelled a Christian comedy.

Notes

1. See D. W. Robertson, A Preface to Chaucer: Studies in Medieval Perspectives (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1962), p. 83.

2. See, for example, W. T. H. Jackson, “Problems of Communication in the Romances of Chrétien de Troyes,” in Medieval Literature and Folklore Studies: Essays in Honor of Francis Lee Utley, ed. Jerome Mandel and Bruce A. Rosenberg (New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1970), pp. 50ff.

3. See in particular Robert Harden, “Aucassin et Nicolette as Parody,” Studies in Philology 63 (1966), 1-9, and Jessie Crossland, Medieval French Literature (Oxford: Basil S. Blackwell, 1956), p. 86ff.

4. For an allegorical reading of Chrétien, see Tom Artin, The Allegory of Adventure: Reading Erec and Yvain (Lewisburg, Pa.: Bucknell University Press, 1974), p. 32ff.

5. Wisdom is an active virtue, in that its purpose is to solve mysteries (see Robertson, pp. 33 and 53ff.) so that one derives pleasure from the solutions of such divine puzzles, since their solutions invariably lead to God. Furthermore, there is a distinct danger in the inactive mind, because this indicates delight in the surface, which leads to an acceptance of the “chaf” rather than of the “fruyt” (Robertson, p. 61). Thus, active reason is reason used, while passive reason which dwells on the surface is reason abused (Robertson, p. 65).

6. This proves to be a very common choice in medieval romance, a choice which both Erec and Tristan make as well, with varying results.

7. The Devil traditionally purchases souls with the flesh. See Chaucer's “Parson's Tale,” line 850.

8. Line numbers in parentheses refer to Aucassin und Nicolette: Kritischer Text mit Paradigmen und Glossar, ed. Hermann Suchier, 10th ed. (Paderborn: Ferdinand Schöningh, 1932). The following translation, “‘Fool, to weep the livelong day’” is from Aucassin and Nicolette and Other Medieval Romances and Legends, trans. Eugene Mason (New York: E. P. Dutton & Co., Inc., 1958), p. 3. Subsequent translations of the Old French will appear in the notes and will refer to page numbers in the Mason edition, unless otherwise indicated.

9. “‘Fair son,’ replied his father, ‘better are such deeds as these than foolish dreams.’” (p. 11)

10. “‘Get to horse,’ said he, ‘take your pleasure in the woodland, amongst flowers and bracken, and the songs of the birds. Perchance, who knows? you may hear some word of which you will be glad.’” (pp. 22-23)

11. “‘Now go to your hunting if you will, and if you will not, let it go, for truly have I carried out my bargain with her.’” (p. 25)

12. Crossland, p. 170, calls the yokel “appealing.”

13. The yokel is wise, insofar as he knows who Aucassin is and whom he seeks.

14. Proverbs 9:1 “Wisdom hath builded her house, she hath hewn out her seven pillars.” In addition, see Roberta D. Cornelius, The Figurative Castle: A Study in the Mediaeval Allegory of the Edifice with Special Reference to Religious Writings (Bryn Mawr, Pa.: Bryn Mawr Press, 1930).

15. “There she called to heart her love, / There bethought her she would prove / Whether true her lover's vows.” (p. 21)

16. Northrop Frye, Anatomy of Criticism (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1957), pp. 186ff. points out the episodic and the relation between the episodic and the progressional nature of romance, so that each single episode is a microcosm of the greater dialectical movement of the work as well as acting as a stairstep in the achievement of that dialectic. Thus, when he faces the problems of judgment within each individual adventure, Aucassin learns a little more and comes a little bit closer to perfect attainment of wisdom, which is the theme of the romance as a whole.

17. “‘… should I fall, my neck must be broken; and if I stay, tomorrow shall I be taken, and men will burn my body in a fire. Yet were it better to die, now, in this place, than to be made a show tomorrow in the market.’” (p. 18)

18. “Now the forest lay but the distance of two bolts from a crossbow, and ran some thirty leagues in length and breadth; moreover, within were many wild beasts and serpents. She feared these greatly, lest they should do her a mischief; but presently she remembered that should men lay hands upon her, they would lead her back to the city to burn her at the fire.” (p. 19)

19. “Any day he would give her for husband one of the highest kings in all Spain; but rather would she be hanged or burned than take him, however rich he be.” (p. 40)

20. This relates to Constance's marriage in Chaucer's “Man of Law's Tale”; there the heroine refuses to marry a heathen until he is baptized.

21. “‘… those who are naked, and barefoot, and full of sores; who are dying of hunger and of thirst, of cold and of wretchedness.’” (p. 6)

22. “‘… the fair clerks and the fair knights who are slain in the tourney and the great wars, and the stout archer and the loyal man. With them will I go. And there go the fair and courteous ladies, who have friends, two or three, together with their wedded lords.’” (pp. 6-7)

23. “‘With these will I go, so only that I have Nicolette, my very sweet friend, by my side.’” (p. 7)

24. J. E. Cirlot, A Dictionary of Symbols, trans. Jack Sage (New York: Philosophical Library, 1962), pp. 326-327, points out “the analogy between the tower and man: for just as the tree is closer to the human figure than are the horizontal forms of animals, so, too, is the tower the only structural form distinguished by verticality: windows at the topmost level, almost always large in size, correspond to the eyes and the mind of man.”

25. “‘Be sure that if thou wert found in any man's bed, save it be mine, I should not need a dagger to pierce my heart and slay me. Certes, no; wait would I not for a knife; but on the first wall or the nearest stone would I cast myself, and beat out my brains altogether. Better to die so foul a death as this, than know thee to be in any man's bed, save mine.’”

26. “Do not think that the spines and thorns were pitiful to him. Truly it was not so; for his raiment was so torn that the least tattered of his garments could scarcely hold to his body, and the blood ran from his arms and legs and flanks in forty places, or at least in thirty, so that you could have followed after him by the blood which he left upon the grass.” (p. 26)

27. One should note that she advises herself to flee often but advises Aucassin to flee only after they have met by the hut.

28. Mason, pp. 21 and 25.

29. Chrétien alludes to the imagery of the Harrowing of Hell in Erec et Enide and in Lancelot; the time between Christ's entombment and his rising on the third day is, apocryphally speaking, the time when Christ descended into Hell and freed souls from Satan's domination.

30. “‘… well I know her for the most loyal of creatures and as the most winning and modest of maidens born.’” (p. 39) A better reading would be “wise” for the Old French sage, as opposed to Mason's “modest.”

31. Since Nicolette has twelve brothers, her linkage to Christ is strengthened, since the sum 12 + 1 (disciples and Christ) proves to be a manifestation of typical numbers.

32. “‘Simple folk, and simple King, / Deeming maid so slight a thing.’” (p. 34) A better reading would be the more literal “Sir King of Torelore,” said the beautiful Nicolette, “your people consider me a fool …”

33. Consider one of the statements in the prologue to Erec et Enide:

    Por ce dit Crestiiens de Troies
    Que reisons est que totes voies
    Doit chascuns panser et antandre
    A bien dire et a bien aprandre,
    Et tret d’un conte d’avanture
    Une mout bele conjointure …

    (ll. 9-14)

    The text is from Erec und Enide von Christian von Troyes, ed. Wendelin Foerster (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1965). The following translation is from Chrétien de Troyes, Arthurian Romances, trans. W. W. Comfort (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1914), p. 1: “So Chrétien de Troyes maintains that one ought always to study and strive to speak well and teach the right; and he derives from a story of adventure a pleasing argument …”

34. “‘Beyond this, what profit would you have, had you become her lover, and taken her to your bed? Little enough would be your gain therefrom, for your soul would lie tormented in Hell all the days of all time, so that to Paradise never should you win.’” (p. 6)

35. See Robertson, pp. 393-448.

36. “Now think not that he sought spoil of oxen and cattle, nor to smite others and himself escape. Nay, but of all this he took no heed.” (p. 10)

37. See George Ferguson, Signs and Symbols in Christian Art (New York: Oxford University Press, 1961), p. 15; the dog serves as a symbol of fidelity and as such well represents Aucassin's faithfulness to Nicolette.

38. Ibid., p. 22.

39. “‘Ha, God,’ cried he, ‘sweet Creature, these are my mortal foes who lead me captive, and who soon will strike off my head; and when my head is smitten, never again may I have fair speech with Nicolette, my sweet friend, whom I hold so dear.’” (p. 10)

40. Harden's article (note 3) explores this approach; see as well Barbara N. Sargent, “Parody in Aucassin et Nicolette: Some Further Considerations,” French Review 43 (1970), 597-605.

41. See Robertson, pp. 450ff.

42. Lancelot and Alexander (Cliges) react in much the same fashion concerning locks from their respective beloveds' heads.

43. Mason, p. 11.

44. Mason, p. 12.

45. In effect, it proves to be a case of cultivation of cupiditas rather than caritas.

46. “‘By my head, I will remember, whosoever may forget; so close is it to my heart.’” (p. 11)

47. “‘Be sure that if thou wert found in any man's bed, save it be mine, I should not need a dagger to pierce my heart and slay me. Certes, no; wait would I not for a knife; but on the first wall or the nearest stone would I cast myself, and beat out my brains altogether.” (p. 16)

48. “… as the wild boar deals when brought to bay by hounds in the wood …” (p. 11)

49. V. F. Hopper, Medieval Number Symbolism (New York: Columbia University Press, 1938), pp. 3-11 gives a good background on symbolic numbers.

50. See Hopper, p. 114 for the division of the Ten Commandments into groups of three and seven.

51. Ibid., pp. 113-115 for positive Christian groupings of seven.

52. “Another was with him, and he thought so dearly upon Nicolette, his fair friend, that the reins fell from his hand, and he struck never a blow. Then the charger, yet smarting from the spur, bore him into the battle, amidst the thickest of the foe.” (p. 10)

53. Robertson, pp. 253-254.

54. Due to its linkage with the crown of thorns, the thorn becomes a symbol of tribulation. See Ferguson, p. 38.

55. “But she spake to him, sweetly wise. …” (p. 30)

56. “‘Sire,’ replied the King, ‘too ready is such payment as yours. It is not our custom, nor theirs, to fight a quarrel to the death.’” (p. 34)

57. The text is from the Foerster edition cited above. The Comfort translation, p. 1, follows:

    “The rustic's proverb says that many a thing is despised that is worth much more than is supposed. Therefore, he does well who makes the most of whatever intelligence he may possess. For he who neglects this concern may likely omit to say something which would subsequently give great pleasure. So Chrétien de Troyes maintains that one ought always to study and strive to speak well and teach the right; and he derives from a story of adventure a pleasing argument whereby it may be proved and known that he is not wise who does not make liberal use of his knowledge so long as God may give him grace.”