SOURCE: Houck, Margaret. “Wace's Individuality and Narrative Technique.” In Sources of the “Roman de Brut” of Wace. University of California Publications in English. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1941, pp. 167-95.

[In the following essay, written in 1938, Houck examines the techniques through which Wace transforms Geoffrey of Monmouth's narrative history into a stylized work approaching fiction.]

Most of the alterations made by Wace in Geoffrey's narrative have their source in his characteristic technique of storytelling and his poetic individuality; that is, in his style as a narrative poet. His style manifests itself chiefly in his development of dramatic settings for events, in his use of various devices to give an effect of lively action, in his tendency to enter sympathetically into the situation he is presenting, in his frequent additions of realistic circumstances not mentioned by Geoffrey, in his expression of certain characteristic sentiments, and in the technique of his verse.¹

Wace's account of Uther's feast at which he became enamored of Ygerne is an excellent example of the poet's use of detailed background for a scene. Geoffrey merely mentions (VIII. xix. 423) that Uther gave a feast at which he took notice of Ygerne by sending her messages and presents, until at last Gorlois, angered, left the table. Wace evidently felt that a proper stage setting should be provided for the action (vv. 8793-840); he tells us, therefore, that the king was seated at the head of the room (“Al cief de la sale”) on the dais, that the barons sat about, each in the order of his rank (“s'onor”), and that face to face with the king was seated the “quens de Cornuaille,” with his wife Ygerne beside him. Having thus produced the stage illusion of depth and background, he fixes our attention upon the chief figures in the scene, and, by substituting for the general statements of his source a series of realistic details, skillfully chosen and deftly phrased, he enables us to follow their looks and movements. It is the king with whom we are chiefly concerned, since the initiative rests with him, and we are therefore made to observe him watching Ygerne, to see him eating, drinking, sitting silent, talking, always with his thoughts upon her, gazing at her sidewise, smiling, winking, making “d'amor signe” to her; while the lady, beautiful and “sage,” bears herself in such a manner that she neither accepts nor disdains him. Gorlois we hardly notice until the end of the comedy, when it is suddenly borne in upon us that, sitting unobserved, he has been noting the looks, the smiles, the signs of the king, and that his anger and resentment have been steadily growing; and finally he is brought decisively to our attention when his feeling surges beyond control and he rises abruptly and quits the table “sans congié,” taking his wife with him. The facts of the incident are obviously taken from the Historia; but under the poet's pen the scene has come alive, and has assumed the perspective of dramatic action occurring before our eyes.

Background details are used somewhat differently in Wace's account of the ambush of the Roman army by Belinus (vv. 3035-56). Geoffrey tells us (III. ix. 288) that Belinus waited at night in a valley for the enemy host, which came the next morning at dawn. The poet, to give the sense of silent waiting, first has Belinus command that no one in the army shall utter a cry or make any noise. Then he describes, with invented details, the quiet beauty of the night during which they waited:

Biax fu li tans, com en esté
Bele la nuit et sans oré,
Et la lune bien cler raia.

When the Romans came, “tot aséur, ne dotent gote,” they were plainly visible in the moonlight:

A la lune qui cler luisoit
S'en aloient à grant esploit.

Suddenly they saw gleaming, under the moon, helmets and trappings and shields—

Et al la lune luire virent
Hiaumes et sèles et escus—

and then, with a battle cry, the enemy was upon them. These are two examples of a quality which appears constantly in the poem.² The poet was not content merely to relate the event as it was told by Geoffrey; he must supply for it the appropriate setting, and then vivify the action—give it the lively and climactic effect of drama.

To achieve this end he uses special devices. When important persons are to be brought into the action, he first supplies characterizations of them, to give an anticipatory idea of the sort of deeds they will perform. In direct discourse, he introduces frequent remarks and exclamations to indicate the feeling proper to the occasion. His best-known characterization, that of Arthur (vv. 9247-71), though mainly taken from Geoffrey (IX. i. 432), adds certain qualities that were probably regarded in Wace's day as essential to the ideal knight. His initial characterization of Caesar (vv. 3909-38), which does not appear in Geoffrey (IV. i. 306), apparently reflects the contemporary reputation of that great leader. Other characterizations were evidently derived from the account in the Historia of the person's actions; for example, the sketches of Lucius Hiberius (vv. 12,852-9), of Frollo (vv. 10,171-3), of Edwin (vv. 14,543-58), and of Gorlois (vv. 8690-7).

The poet introduces direct discourse and dialogue much more frequently than does Geoffrey, both to interrupt long speeches and, perhaps primarily, to give the lively and realistic effect of an exchange of conversation. Thus, when Helena's nurse is warning Bedivere against the giant, instead of having her speak solo at some length, as Geoffrey does (X. iii. 470-1), Wace has the two carry on a more natural conversation of questions and answers (vv. 11,663-837).³ A favorite use of this device of direct discourse is at the close of speeches, when the poet often enables us to hear the crowd signify their feeling about what has been said. When Membricius finishes his address to the Trojans, for instance, Wace makes audible the answer of the people, “Bien dit, bien dit, ce dient tuit” (v. 560); Geoffrey only states that they approved (I. xi. 235). Again, whereas Geoffrey says nothing of the response of Arthur's guests when the letter of Lucius was presented by his envoys (IX. xv. 461), the poet (vv. 10,989-11,004) describes the tumult that arose in the hall:

A ceste parole a grant bruit,
Et mult s'en corochièrent tuit:
Maint Breton oissiés crier
Et Deu aramir et jurer
Que cil seront deshonoré
Qui le message ont aporté,
Et lors ont mult as messagiers
Dit ramprones et reproviers;

and he shows us the king, rising and crying out to them, “Taisiés, taisiés!” and reminding them of the rights of envoys:

N'i aront mal, messagier sont,
Signor ont, lor message font;
Dire pueent ce qu'il vauront,
Jà par home mal n'i aront.(4)

Apparently for the purpose of giving a livelier effect to the narrative, as well as to mark the appropriate feeling aroused by it, Wace occasionally exclaims briefly over some event. “Dex quel honte, Dex quel pécié!” he interjects, when he relates the marriage of Vortigern to the pagan Rowena (v. 7163). Again, he shows a touch of humor: What marvel that the pagans fought well to save their skins! (vv. 7994-6); or of irritation at the misdeeds of the Saxons: May God confound all their “geste”! (v. 13,756); or a sympathetic pleasure: God! what joy Brian felt at the arrival of Cadwallo! (v. 14,813).⁵ Rarely, he uses also a rhetorical question to produce a similar effect: Who would believe that Anacletus was lying? (v. 430); Who should suspect such a learned man as Eopa of treachery? (v. 8474).

The frequent use of such devices as these—details of background to provide a setting against which the action may be visualized, preliminary characterizations of the actors, direct discourse in the form of conversation or of response to speeches, exclamations as a keynote of the emotion aroused by the action—enabled the poet to produce a lively effect in his narrative, and gives the reader the sense of a drama enacted before his eyes.

Wace's tendency to enter sympathetically into the motives of the characters and into the human elements involved in a situation also prompts him to make many alterations in his paraphrase of Geoffrey's material. For example, Geoffrey (I. vii. 230-1) has Brutus summon the captured Anacletus to him and tell his prisoner that he intends to fall upon the Greeks that night in a surprise attack and slay them unawares, and that, to help him carry out this plan, Anacletus must trick the Greek guards, whereby he may save his own life and that of his fellow prisoner, the prince Antigonus. Wace apparently felt that it was not the part of a wise leader to divulge his whole plan, even to a prisoner of whom he meant to make use in effecting it; and probably it seemed to him needless cruelty to tell a man, threatening him with death, that the result of his treachery would be the slaughter of his countrymen. Therefore (vv. 375-98) he has Brutus relate to Anacletus only so much of his purpose as the prisoner needed to know in order to carry out the treachery forced upon him, with no mention of the consequences to the Greeks of what he must do. Moreover, he justifies Brutus' use of such a method to save his men, as well as the compliance of Anacletus, by the comment (vv. 363-6):

Boisdie et engin doit-on faire
Por destruire son aversaire;
Et por ses amis délivrer
Doit l'on en grant péril entrer.

The poet, again, showed his understanding of human nature in his amused account of the actions of the people after Morvid slew the sea beast and was himself devoured by it (vv. 3467-3520; Geoffrey, III. xv. 295). Wace, unlike Geoffrey, keeps in mind the point of view of these seafaring people throughout his story of the incident; he describes the hideousness of the beast, its ravages along the coast, the flight of the terrified folk into the forests and highlands. And he presents the people to us again after the fight, torn between their genuine joy over the death of the monster and their dutiful grief over the king's death. There was not a “vilain” who didn't rejoice, he tells us. For the death of the king they comforted themselves by the thought of the beast's destruction. They wavered between their feeling that they should be “tot dolent” over the king and their feeling of “confortement” that the monster was dead. And finally there was such great joy among them that they quite forgot the king, and all their sorrow over his death was ended.

It was probably this tendency to enter imaginatively into the motives and feelings of the characters which led Wace to make alterations also in the story of Lear and his daughters. For example, Geoffrey says nothing about Cordelia's emotions after her father turned against her in anger, but goes on at once to relate the weddings of Goneril and Regan (II. xi. 264). Wace, however, apparently both because he felt that it was necessary to describe her mental state in order to give point to her later action and because he was interested in Cordelia, tells us something of the way she felt (vv. 1821-4, 1833-44): The girl was unable to reply to Lear's angry speech, though she was almost bursting with anger and shame; she could not argue with her father, and he would not listen to her. While her sisters were being honorably married, there was nothing for her to do except wait—“I don't know,” says the poet, “what there was that she could have done.” Her father had promised her no dowry (“bien”) nor, so resentful (“fel”) was he, would he allow her to be married in his kingdom. The girl was full of anguish, very bitter and ashamed; but more because her father hated her wrongfully than because of the “prou” she had lost through her honesty of speech.

This same interest in the motives of his characters led the poet to enter more fully also into the cause of Goneril's action. Geoffrey relates in some detail (II. xii. 266) the indignation which Goneril felt at the size of her father's retinue and at the gibes which his knights flung at her servants because their food was not abundant. Therefore, after speaking to her husband, she required that Lear should dismiss half his men. Wace (vv. 1905-36) sees avarice and disdain for her father as the motives of her action:

Gonerille fu trop avère
Et grant escar tint de son père.

He allows her, however, to state her case, by setting forth in her own words her speech to her husband, in which she justified her conduct toward Lear; and the poet remarks philosophically that there are very few women without faults and without the root of avarice in their nature:

Mult i a poi feme sans visse
Et sans racine d'avarisce.

Thus her treatment of Lear is shown to be the natural result of her character. Also, Wace manifests (vv. 1957-2024) a clearer awareness than Geoffrey of the fact that the king must suffer much over his hapless condition and the folly of his conduct before he can make the resolve to throw himself upon Cordelia's mercy; and therefore he lets us hear Lear's⁶ lamentation before the king takes ship for France, not, as does Geoffrey (II. xii. 267), after he is on board. Lear, he tells us, had to suffer much anguished thought again and again before he could bring himself to go to his daughter. He shows also a truer sense of the emotional unity of the story by omitting Geoffrey's statement that the chief cause of Lear's lamentation on the ship was that less respect was given to him than to the two other princes on board; and thereby he retains as the sole cause of the king's misery his sense of his own blindness and his unwise action. These alterations and additions are, of course, suggested to the imaginative mind by Geoffrey's narrative; but Wace was apparently unwilling to leave too much to the imagination of his readers. And probably he himself became greatly interested in the mental states of the actors in the incident.

As we have seen, Wace shows that Goneril's treatment of her father was the natural result of her character; an attitude of tolerant understanding toward the persons in his narrative is characteristic of the poet. There are no villains in his stories so completely black that he cannot justify their motives somewhat, or at least enter with some degree of fellow feeling into the predicaments in which they become involved.⁷ Mordred's treachery, for instance, was pretty bad, and the poet takes occasion to exclaim over it disapprovingly—“Oiés quel honte et quel vilté!” (v. 13,422). This false nephew, who “n'avoit mie bonne foi,” committed the “grant félonie” of taking homage from Arthur's people and exacting hostages from the “castiax,” and then proceeded to the “forcor vilenie” of taking to himself the wife of the king—an act “contre crestiane loi” (vv. 13,421-36). Nevertheless, the poet bears in mind that both Mordred and the queen suffered for their treachery:

A Mordret et à la reine
Dex, tel mal fist cele saisine!

(vv. 11,468-9)

And he represents Mordred more than once as an unhappy man who could not bring himself to repent and give up the fruits of his ill-doing, and who felt himself so guilty that to make overtures of peace would seem weakness.⁸ Again, Hengist—“cest traïor, cest aversaire”—showed himself a deceitful and cruel barbarian, a clever and scheming flatterer of the weak British king. Nevertheless, when the Saxon first embarked upon his treacherous plans, Wace remarks that he was merely trying to advance himself, as, the poet says, everyone ought to do:

D'avancir soi s'entremetoit,
Comme cascuns faire devroit.

(vv. 7005-6)

Yet, although the poet manifests a tolerant understanding of even the worst of his characters, he occasionally points out the disastrous result of wrong or foolish action. Bladud, for example, had the wish to fly, so he had wings made and fitted. But his attempt resulted disastrously, since he fell upon the temple of Apollo and was killed; and thus, says Wace, he ended foolishly—“Enssi folement trespassa” (vv. 1683-92). Again, Morvid was a king of immoderate cruelty, given to “grant ire” which he “ne pooit amesurer,” though he was also very brave. Because, in his fight with the sea monster, he would rely upon his own strength alone, therefore he died of his own mad courage—“Morz fu li rois par s'estotie.” And the poet points the moral of the incident:

Trop granz hardiment est folie,
Fax est qui trop en soi se fie.

(vv. 3490-1)

The act of Constans in abandoning his monkish habit seemed to his people, Wace tells us, an “orible cose”—

Vilté lor samblast et folie
A retraire de l'abeïe;

(vv. 6631-2)

and the poet himself is more outspoken in his condemnation of this action than of any other in the poem: Constans became king, indeed, but to attain this end he had left the vocation to which he should have held. He abandoned the order of God, and he came to an ill death; and Wace asserts that this was as it should be:⁹

Ne doit pas hom à bon cief traire
De faire ce qu'il ne doit faire.

(vv. 6693-4)

There are two or three traits in human nature, moreover, which, according to the poet, usually lead to disaster. Chief among these is “orgoil.” The “orgillos” man is either brought to a bad end, or else his “orgoil” is in some way humbled; generally it is the first that happens. Octa, for instance, “mult s'orgilla” (v. 9094) over the Britons, whom Uther, in his illness, had placed under the leadership of Lot. He and his Saxons might have been defeated by the Britons, but the latter “s'entrorgillèrent” and refused to obey the summons of Lot to fight against them under him as general. In order to subdue their “orgoil” it was necessary for Uther to shame them by having himself borne in a litter to Verulam, where the Saxons were besieged. These had been defending this place successfully, but when they heard that Uther was there in a litter they scorned his powers, opened the gates, and sallied forth against the Britons. However, says Wace, their pride destroyed them, and he conquered who ought to conquer:

Mais lor orgoel, jo croi, lor nut,
Et cil vainquit qui vaincre dut.(10)

(vv. 9145-6)

On the other hand, the successful leader must be able to oppose “orgoil” to “orgoil,” and thereby bring the haughty man to submission. Caesar, besides knowing how to daunt the evildoer (“félon donter”), knew also how to moderate the pride of the arrogant man (“orgillos amesurer”); and this Wace indicates as one of his chief sources of greatness (vv. 4253-4 ff.). Moreover, in a powerful king, who must deal with headstrong followers, “orgoil” is a proper trait to use towards them—not towards others. Arthur, for example, though towards the humble he was “dols et pitos,” towards the “orgilleus” was himself “orgillos” (vv. 9253-4). Again, the man who is “desmesuré” in his passions usually comes to a bad end. Thus Morvid, who “a desmesure ert de grant ire,” and who was also generous “a desmesure,” (vv. 3423, 3437) did much that was unbefitting a king; and in the end he perished through his own foolhardiness. Carausius, although in the beginning he showed many good qualities, loved war better than peace, and became so successful in his piracy that finally “nule mesure n'i savoit” (v. 5539); and his destruction became necessary.¹¹ It is evident throughout the poem that Wace regards the good king as a man “de grant mesure.”¹²

The poet rounds out Geoffrey's narrative with details which his sense of the reality of the situation, apparently, suggested should be included. He seems to have felt, for instance, that Geoffrey's narrative of the campaign of Belinus and Brennius in Germany (III. ix) did not take into sufficient account the strategical importance of the Alps. The two brothers went to Germany from Rome; but Geoffrey says nothing about their crossing the mountains. Wace, however, could not ignore this obstacle, nor the obvious advantage which it would give to the Romans if they were at all awake to their own interests. Therefore (vv. 2984-3004) he adds to the Historia narrative the further detail that the Romans sent some of their men to harass the Britons in the mountain passes, while others were to guard these passes to prevent the brothers from returning; for they believed that with the Germans behind and the Romans in front they might so hem in the Britons that they could destroy them. The poet shows a good perception of the difficulties of the long, crooked, narrow way through the mountains, and is aware that a few people there could destroy a host:

Assés i pooit desconfire
Uns poi de gent, un grant empire.

And he adds to Geoffrey's account the statement that the ambush of the Romans by Belinus took place in a valley of “Mont Giu” (vv. 3035-7). He alters other details of Geoffrey's account of this campaign to make it seem more convincing. Geoffrey tells us that when the brothers discovered that the Romans had followed them to Germany, Brennius started back to capture and punish Rome. The Romans, discovering his intention, turned back also and attempted to outmarch him. Then Belinus, discovering in his turn what they were doing, started the next morning after the Romans, and was so surprisingly successful in outdistancing their hurrying army that he was able to overtake and ambush them. Wace apparently felt that this threefold chase lacked elements of probability, and he therefore tried to add them (vv. 3019-34). The Romans, he says, knew a more direct way back to their country than that taken by Brennius, and by using it might pass him. Moreover, Belinus, learning from his spies what route the Romans were taking, employed “païsans” to serve as guides and lead his army by a short cut to a point where he could ambush them.

Again, Wace supplies some details to Geoffrey's account of the sea encounter between Brennius and the Danish king, apparently to make the story more convincing. Geoffrey (III. i. 277) tells us that Brennius went to Norway for troops to use against his brother. There he married the king's daughter and obtained men, and was returning with them to Britain when he was beset by “Ginchtalacus,” who loved the Norwegian princess and had followed Brennius. In the ensuing battle the Dane got the girl. Wace, evidently not satisfied with Geoffrey's bare statement that the Danish king had followed Brennius, elaborates the account from his own invention (vv. 2485-504). The princess, he informs us, grieved over her projected marriage to Brennius, for she had long loved the Danish king, who loved her in turn, and who was to have married her. Therefore she sent word to him that she was given to Brennius, and that he must make haste to intercept them on their way to Britain, or he would never have her.¹³ Similarly, Wace completes Geoffrey's story of Morvid's fight with the sea beast, in which the Historia relates only that the king was devoured by the monster (III. xv), by telling us—what was really the point of the matter—that the beast, also, died (vv. 3508-11).

Wace has considerably altered Geoffrey's account of the events immediately preceding the final departure of the Roman legions from Britain, perhaps because he did not feel that the Historia narrative had sufficient regard for the probabilities of the situation. Geoffrey relates (VI. ii) that Guethelin, metropolitan of London, spoke to the assembled Britons, explaining to them the situation in which they were to be left, and bidding them, though Maximian had left in the land only tillers of the soil and craftsmen, with no knowledge of warfare, to bestir themselves and learn to fight to defend their liberty; and he heartened them with the idea that, after all, a soldier could be born of a shopkeeper. The metropolitan's speech, as Geoffrey reports it, was probably an effective one for an archbishop to make to his flock; but Wace appears to have felt that it did not give the people a true idea of their predicament. For certainly, according to contemporary ideas of military matters, it would not be possible for the Britons, tillers of the soil and craftsmen, with very few knights, if any at all, left among them, with no king, and with only priests to lead them, to make even a pretense of organizing themselves into a military body. The poet's military tradition, and that of the men for whom he was writing, required the armor-clad knight, schooled by long training in the use of sword and lance, accustomed from youth to management of the war steed. How would it be possible for artisans and peasants, with no opportunity to come by this necessary training, to transform themselves into fighting men capable of withstanding fierce barbarians? As the poet himself says,

Comment fust terre desfandue,
Qui de bons chevalier ert nue?

(vv. 6244-5)

Wace therefore alters materially the account of the incident (vv. 6318-98). Instead of Guethelin, heartening his people with what would have appeared to Wace's readers a vain and absurd hope, he has a “sage home,” evidently a Roman, address them. This man justifies the action of the legions in departing without intention of returning; then he states frankly that the Britons, unlike their ancestors, who were “mult fort et bon combatéor,” seemed to have degenerated into baseness. The Romans had done what was possible to secure safety for the British by building fortifications along the shores; if the Britons could find courage to maintain their liberty, they must be content with that. There was no very hopeful tone in this address of the “sage home,” and when he concluded there was great mourning and bitterness, unlike the cheers of Guethelin's auditors. The poet must have felt that he had presented the situation more nearly in its true colors.¹⁴

In spite of his occasional moralizing reflections on the bad results that are likely to follow from foolhardiness, “orgoil,” and “desmesure,” Wace seems to have accepted philosophically the conditions of public life as he observed them. This is noticeable in the difference between his attitude and that of Geoffrey toward Caesar's method of dealing with the rebellious Gauls after his first repulse from Britain. There is an accent of scornful ridicule in Geoffrey's statement of the matter (IV. v): “Thus he that previously had stripped them of all they possessed and roared at them with the fierceness of a lion, now became a meek lamb, bleating out with a humble voice that it was a pleasure to restore all to them. Nor did he cease from his blandishments until he had regained all his lost power.” Wace seems to have regarded Caesar's methods rather as an indication of his finesse in dealing with human nature than as a sign of weakness. Caesar, he says (vv. 4253 ff.), knew very well how to appease the covetous and how to change his attitude (“son talent”); and he knew very well also how to humble himself where force could accomplish nothing. He saw that the French were up in arms and leagued against him, that his own men were war-weary. The poet comments upon the power of gold—“Mult a avoir grant poësté”—for its use at this time brought a war to nothing. Those who before had hated Caesar and wished to kill him, now, for gold, changed their minds and did homage to him. Wace evidently regarded Caesar as a clever strategist in this, a man well versed in the power of “avoir” over human nature and skilled in making use of this power; he seems to regard Caesar's action rather as a piece of diplomacy well accomplished than as tactics which should provoke scorn. As a matter of fact, the use of “avoir” to change men's hearts must have been a phenomenon of fairly common occurrence in Wace's world. Monasteries and abbeys bought, with money, immunity from fire and pillage at the hands of warlike factions.¹⁵ Robert of Caen himself was won over to the cause of Geoffrey of Anjou, Ordericus tells us, by “precibus et promissis.”¹⁶ The methods which Henry I used to gain support in Normandy against his brother, Robert Curthose, were not unlike those used by Caesar in bringing over to his side the rebellious Gauls, as these are set forth in Geoffrey's account.¹⁷ Wace could have observed more than once, in the affairs of Normandy, the truth of his reflection, “Mult a avoir grant poësté.”

Throughout the poem, indeed, as in his version of this incident, Wace shows an understanding of the ordinary emotions which give rise to action, and a willingness to accept human nature as it is. He accepts, for instance, the fact that prowess cannot hold out against hunger and thirst.¹⁸ He represents as the chief reason why the Romans were leaving Britain, not the laboriousness of the expeditions and the shame it imposed upon the Roman army to wear themselves out “ob inbelles & erraticos latrunculos,” as Geoffrey does (VI. ii), but simply the great expense of coming and going (vv. 6322-3). He points out that Hengist, in trying to gain influence over Vortigern by flattery, was simply doing what everyone ought to do, attempting to advance himself (vv. 7005-6); and he observes that the Saxon knew how to go about the matter skillfully:

Bien sot au roi aler entor
A guise de losangéor.

He even justifies trickery and deceit when one is trying to bring about the destruction of a foe:

Boisdie et engin doit-on faire
Por destruire son aversaire,

(vv. 363-4)

though he holds also that one should be willing to endanger himself for his friends (vv. 365-6).

In most of his generalizations he shows himself in sympathy with the conventional ideas of his time. Satan, he says, “mult avoit grant vertu” (v. 5706) and has turned many a man to evildoing (v. 7160). The person who leaves “l'ordre Deu” commits an act which properly leads to destruction; for

Ne doit pas hom à bon cief traire,
De faire ce qu'il ne doit faire.

(vv. 6693-4)

In his perception of the frequent change and reversal of conditions he is also a son of his time. He has Lear lament the relentless turning of fortune's wheel; and he himself remarks, when Cassibellaunus, once victor, has been driven into a corner by Caesar and Androgeus,

Mais fortune est d'altre color
Et sa roele a fait un tor;
Icil sunt al desos torné
Qui el desus orent esté.

(vv. 4766-9)

He frequently comments upon the changing fortunes of combatants in war; in that business, he observes, it often happens that the person who loses in the beginning afterward recovers his lost ground:

Tot ainsi avient de tel œvre
Que tex i pert qui puis recoevre.(19)

(vv. 6012-3)

The origin and changes of place names likewise engage his interest.²⁰ A name, he comments, often comes from “mult petit d'aventure,” yet endures for a long time (vv. 5118-21); but he notes also that such names tend to lose their identity completely as a result of the vicissitudes which overtake the regions they indicate:

Par pluisors grans destruimens
Que ont fait aliènes gens
Qui la terre ont sovent éue,
Sovent prise, sovent perdue,
Sont les villes et les contrées,
Totes or altrement nomées
Que li ancissors les nomèrent
Qui premièrement les fondèrent.

(vv. 1277-84)

There is certainly nothing in the ideas and sentiments which Wace expresses throughout the poem to indicate the churchman; indeed, he shows considerably less interest in ecclesiastical matters than Geoffrey. He abbreviates the Historia account (IV. xix) of the coming of Christianity to Britain in the reign of Lucius, and its organization there, partly, perhaps, because he felt that his readers would not be interested in the early ecclesiastical affairs of the island (vv. 5335-83). Again, although he mentions the coming of St. Germanus to Britain at the time of Vortigern (vv.7317-34), he disposes of the matter more summarily than does Geoffrey (VI. xiii), and makes no mention of the Pelagian heresy, stating only that Germanus came to “redrecier” the churches and to declare the law of God, which, having been corrupted by Hengist, was ill observed. Occasionally the poet mentions the struggle between the Britons and the Saxons as a conflict between Christians and pagans; but in this he merely follows the Historia.²¹ He quite omits Geoffrey's rather circumstantial account of the martyrdom of Alban, as well as his rhetorical encomium of the Christian martyrs which precedes this account (V. v).

Wace manifests an apparent dislike for certain sentiments and forms of expression. He seems to dislike the expression of barbarous feelings, and he usually abridges or omits passages which indicate motives of cruelty. For example, although he states that Arthur destroyed and starved the Scots, until they lay dead “A vingt, à cent, et à milliers” (vv.9686-9), he omits Geoffrey's statement that Arthur intended the complete destruction of the Scots and Picts and treated them with immutable cruelty (IX. vi); and he passes rapidly over the whole account of the king's merciless conquest of these peoples, pausing only to elaborate, at some length, the scene in which their conqueror finally took mercy upon them.²² The tone of contempt, moreover, is foreign to him, and any passage expressing contempt which appears in the Historia he either omits or presents with a different implication. Geoffrey, for instance, speaks with scorn of the attempts of the untrained Britons to defend themselves from the inroads of the Picts and Scots (VI. iii). In his paraphrase of this passage (vv. 6400-56) Wace not only avoids any suggestion of disdain, but deliberately expresses pity for their miserable plight. Censoriousness, also, is distasteful to him. When Guethelin, seeing the misery of his people, crossed to Brittany in search of aid, Geoffrey represents Aldroenus, the king, as answering the metropolitan's request for help with a long speech in which he pointed out the worthlessness of Britain and the slavish condition of the people (VI. iv). Since in the end he granted the desired assistance, this speech apparently impressed Wace as unnecessary and discourteous, and he omits it entirely. Instead, he represents the king as so full of pity for the woes of the Britons that after hearing them he became “tot tristes et ploreus” (vv. 6543 ff.).²³ Wace's distaste for the relation of unpleasant incidents, unless they were necessary to the story, led probably to his omission (vv. 14,444-52) of the circumstance mentioned by Geoffrey (XII. i) that Ethelfrid drove away his wife and took another, so that the first was forced to seek refuge with Edwin.

Wace shows also a conventional regard for the niceties of social intercourse and of speech. He represents Gofar, for instance, as thanking the twelve peers for their aid (v. 929), and has Brutus remember to thank Diana for the vision she sent (v. 693)—two little social duties which Geoffrey neglected. Again, he is rather more delicate than Geoffrey in his phraseology when speaking of the vices of Membricius. The Historia says that this king gave himself up to “Sodomitan” pleasure, not preferring “naturalem uenerem naturali libidini” (II. vi). Wace is satisfied to let it go at “Sodomitan” pleasure, and adds the moral implied in the reference:

Si se prist al vilain mestier
Dont li Sodomite périrent,
Quant il en lor citez fondirent
Et vif chaièrent en abisme.(24)

(vv. 1514-7)

Also he omits Geoffrey's phrase “ad tartara” (VI. xvi. 378 and VIII. vii), and prefers to say that the man was killed, or beheaded, not that he was “sent to hell.” A similar delicacy, probably, deterred him from stating, as does Geoffrey (XII. iv. 518), that Cadwallo ate of Brian's flesh, thinking it venison; instead, he professes ignorance in the matter—“Jo ne sai se il en gosta” (v. 14,661). Yet, although he shows greater sensibility than Geoffrey in such matters, he avoids anything which savors of the sentimental; and for this reason, apparently, he omitted the fine passage in Geoffrey (I. xi. 237) describing the emotion of Ignoge upon leaving her home and kindred in Greece, and Brutus' tenderness toward her grief. Also, apparently for the same reason, he omitted the lamentations of the Britons and of King Cadwallader as they departed from Britain to take refuge in Brittany (XII. xv). Such expressions of emotion may have seemed to the poet “desmesuré,” a departure from the golden mean of moderation; and it was perhaps this same feeling which led him to omit certain rather rhetorical exclamatory passages which appear here and there in the Historia.²⁵ His own exclamations are always brief, and serve simply to indicate the emotion proper to the occasion.

It is perhaps in keeping with this somewhat conventional niceness and this predilection for moderation that the poet should show skepticism regarding certain marvels included in Geoffrey's narrative. That he lacked the sort of fancy which might have allowed him to see fairies in the forest of Broceliande is evident from his mention of them in the Roman de Rou (II:283-4, vv. 6396 ff.). Formerly, he says, it would rain in this forest if a hunter, while pouring water over his body from the fountain of “Berenton,” dampened the rock beside the fountain; but, he adds, “io ne sai par quel raison.” There, also, one sees fairies—if the Breton tell us the truth—and various other “merueilles.” “I went there,” he admits, “in search of marvels. I saw the forest and I saw the earth; I sought marvels, but I didn't find them.” It was apparently to guard himself from at least the self-accusation of “folie” that he usually slips into his narration of marvelous tales some phrase or sentence absolving himself from responsibility for the truth of the matter. In telling the story of the eagle which spoke at Shaftesbury, for instance, he says cautiously,

Uns aigles, ce dist-on, parla;
Ne sai que dit, ne que nonça.(26)

(vv. 1654-6)

Again, though he adds to Geoffrey's account of the founding of Alba the story of the repeated disappearance of the god-images from the place and their reappearance in the temple of Lavinium, he is careful to add, “Mais jo ne sai en quel manière” (v. 104). He is very circumspect, also, in what he adds to Geoffrey's narrative regarding Arthur's death (vv. 13,681-97): If “l'estore” doesn't lie, Arthur was wounded mortally, yet had himself carried to Avalon for the healing of his wounds. He is there still, and the “Breton” await him, according to what they say—he will come again from there, and will be able to live once more. “Maistre Gasse,” however, who made this book, doesn't wish to say more regarding his end than the prophet Merlin said—Merlin said of Arthur, and he was right, that his end would be doubtful.²⁷ The prophet spoke the truth: ever since, people have been doubtful, and always will be doubtful, I believe, of whether he is dead or living. Thus the poet avoids the necessity of asserting his own position in the matter of Arthur's passing;²⁸ and this suggests that he was perhaps attempting not to take a stand on a moot question which would offend the convictions of any of his readers. He observes a similar discretion in his account of Merlin's action in the moving of the rocks of Stonehenge from Ireland to Britain (vv. 8325-64), in which he makes a noteworthy alteration in the Historia narrative (VIII. xii). Geoffrey relates that Merlin commanded the men to try their strength at moving the rocks; and they set to work with all kinds of devices; some made use of cords, some of ropes, some of scaling ladders. When they had found their efforts unavailing, Merlin laughed, and made ready his own “machinationes.” After he had properly placed everything that was necessary, he laid down the rocks with incredible ease. Wace apparently felt that since Geoffrey intended, evidently, to show that magic was used, why should he try to disguise the fact? Therefore he omits mention of the various devices employed at first by the men and of the “machinationes” of Merlin. The men tried their strength merely by pushing vainly at the rocks from all sides. Then Merlin advanced and stood still, looked about, moved his lips like a man who is praying; though, remarks Wace, “I don't know whether it was a prayer which he said” (“Ne sai s'il dist prière ou non”). Without more ado, or any “machinationes,” he showed the Britons that they could move the rocks. The poet is noncommittal in this matter also, but it is difficult to credit him with any real belief in the power of magic to move the rocks of Stonehenge. He will tell a tale of marvel when it appears in his source, or even add one which he has read elsewhere, but he makes it quite clear that the responsibility for believing it rests upon the reader, not upon the poet.

It is obvious, further, that his use of vernacular verse would lead to other alterations, prompted in part by his desire to achieve certain poetic effects that were impossible to Geoffrey's often somewhat ponderous chronicler's Latin. The usual impression produced by the end-stopped octosyllabic couplet is, of course, that of terseness of expression and conciseness of thought; and in his poem Wace shows a masterly command of this metrical form. He heightens the normal effect of the couplet, moreover, by his employment of one technical device in particular, the repetition of words or phrases in the same verse or in succeeding verses. This device had been used by poets before him, but, according to Mr. F. M. Warren,²⁹ Wace's improvements in the method of employing it are “of so striking a nature that they may be said to have founded a school of expression,” so that “during the next decade or longer the leading poets look back to Wace's Brut as a classic.” The repetition of words and phrases in the Roman de Brut gives the effect of alertness of perception, of liveliness, of a clear and emphatic definition of idea and detail. The poet's effective use of this device is particularly observable in his paraphrase (vv. 1961-2020) of Geoffrey's lamentation by King Lear (II. xii). To show his method and purpose the latter part of this lamentation must be quoted in full. It will be noticed that, aside from his repetition of the word “tant,” which runs through the whole passage, closely accompanied by words containing the same sound, other repetitions follow upon one another in such a manner as to give an effect of rhythm quite independent of the meter which Wace is using, a rhythm rising and falling irregularly as the voice rises and falls in a spoken lament:

Bien me dist voir ma jone fille,
Que jo blamoie, Cordéille,
Qui me dist tant com jo aroie
Tant amés et prisiés seroie.
N'entendi mie la parole,
Ains la haï et tinc por fole.
Tant com jo oi et tant valui
Et tant amés et prisiés fui;
Tant trovai jo qui me blandi
Et qui volontiers me servi:
Por mon avoir me blandissoient,
Or se destornent, s'il me voient;
Bien me dist Cordéille voir
Mais jo nel sot aparcevoir,
Ne l'aparçui, ne l'entendi,
Ains la blamai et la haï
Et de ma tère la caçai
Que nule rien ne li donai;
Or me sunt mes filles faillies
Qui lors estoient mes amies,
Qui m'amoient sor tote rien;
Tant com jo oi alques de bien;
Or m'estuet cele aler requerre
Que jo caçai en altre terre;
Mais jo comment la requerrai
Qui de mon raine l'o caçai,
Et nonporquant savoir irai,
Se jo nul bien i troverai.
Jà moins ne pis ne me fera
Que les aisnées m'ont fait ça.

Although the repetitions in this passage are too intimately woven into the fabric of the poetry to be effectively isolated, the most noticeable of them may be pointed out:

Bien me dist voir ma jone fille …
Que me dist …
Bien me dist Cordéille voir …
Tant amés et prisiés seroie …
Et tant amés et prisiés fui;
Tant trovai jo qui me blandi …
Por mon avoir me blandissoient …
Mais jo nel sot aparcevoir,
Ne l'aparçui, ne l'entendi …
Et de ma tère la caçai …
Que jo caçai en altre terre …
Que de mon raine l'o caçai.

Evidently the words repeated are those that stress Lear's primary causes of regret as they returned again and again to his mind: Certainly my young daughter told me; I was so much loved and valued; I find that I was flattered; but I did not perceive it; and I chased her from my land. This is undoubtedly the work of a conscious artist—of an artist with a clear comprehension of the effect which he wished to produce and a masterly control of the technique that would produce it.³⁰

In more formal speeches, also, Wace used this device of verbal repetition effectively. A comparison of the speech of Membricius to the Trojans as given by Geoffrey (I. x. 234-5) with Wace's rendering of it (vv. 515-58) will make this clear. It will be observed that in this, as in other speeches, Wace's greater effectiveness of expression has its source not only in his use of the couplet, allowing more conciseness and directness of speech than Geoffrey's Latin prose, or his use of the vernacular, more colloquial and familiar, but also in certain qualities of the poet which have already been considered. That is, he shows in his rendering of these speeches a grasp of the circumstances of the situation and of the human emotions involved which enabled him to shape the phrases of his speech-maker in a way that would make their appeal convincing to the auditors. Thus Membricius begins his address with a short, emphatic question which would at once fix attention: “Por quoi, fait il, estes en dote?” Then he puts into a couplet the question at issue, wording it in such a fashion that it would touch their pride; Isn't it better policy to go free than to seek a master? Next, with an emphatic repetition of “Let him give,” he states briefly his idea of the terms they should demand:

Doint-nous li rois or et argent,
Et doint nous et nès et forment.
Et doint nous quanques a mestier
As nés conduire et al nagier;
Et doint à Brutus, no signor,
Jnorgen sa fille à oissor.

The folly of remaining in the land he states in a single antithetical verse: If we have fared badly, we shall fare worse—“Se mal éumes, pisarons”; for, he reminds them, all the many kinsmen of those they have killed will seek revenge:

Lor parens, lor oncles, lor pères,
Lor neveus, lor fils, et lor frères,
Et lor altres amis procains.

He quotes a homely proverb to give point to his prophecy: From an old injury, a new sore—“De viés mesfait novèle plais.” And he goes on, with terse, emphatic sentences, to point out the inevitable results of their remaining—

Nous décroistrons et il croistront;
Nous décarrons et il sordront;

and if once the Greeks could gain the advantage, we should see—either we, or those who would then be alive—that not one of the Trojans would survive. And, he adds grimly, we should have well deserved such a fate for our folly. What we should do, then, he concludes, is to go on our way, if Brutus, our king, will consent to that. The natural response is evidently that of the crowd: “Bien dit, bien dit, ce crient tuit.” Wace has made Membricius sound all the notes of popular appeal—avarice, common sense, proverbial wisdom couched in homely language, fear of future destruction by a revengeful people—all set forth in terse, colloquial phrases, with due advantage taken of the persuasive effect of repetition, antithesis, and climax. All the ideas of the speech are supplied by the Historia; but Wace has given them an expression which makes us expect the quick response of the people. And what he has done here he has achieved in practically every speech in the poem.³¹

The source, then, of the most frequent alterations which Wace made in Geoffrey's narrative was the individuality of the poet himself, which caused him to give consistent expression to certain ideas and sentiments, and to employ certain methods of narration. Geoffrey is—or pretends to be—a historian primarily; he is interested in dynasties and reigns, and in the telling of stories only as they have to do with the fates of kings. But Wace is first of all a storyteller, and will even depart from his source, when necessary, to tell a story which appeals to him. Moreover, he shows an interest in discovering the basic motives which impel men and women to their actions, and a degree of tolerance, as a result, for even their evil deeds. He evidently believed, however, that certain qualities would be likely to lead people to their own destruction—a belief in “nigromance,” for instance, resulted in a foolish fatality; the ambition which led to the abandonment of “l'ordre Deu” ended properly in a “mal definement”; “orgoil,” unless it is rightly used by a man in power to hold his haughty nobles in check, carries with it inevitably either destruction or humiliation as the consequence; “desmesure” in any quality, like immoderate cruelty, naturally sweeps a man onward into disaster. Throughout his poem, he shows himself something of the man of the world, accepting without much demur the manifest facts of life, sensible, observant of the social niceties of speech and action, moderate in sentiment and emotion, somewhat skeptical of “mervelles” and of magic. As a poet, he was a self-conscious artist, and produced verse so excellent that one can accept without question the statement that Chrétien de Troies, his better-known contemporary, “reconnaissait en Wace un grand styliste, mâitre de descriptions plastiques et créateur de vers bien frappés.”³²

Notes

1. For discussions of Wace's style, see L. Waldner, Wace's Brut und seine Quellen, pp. 114 ff.; A. Ulbrich, “Ueber das Verhältniss von Wace's Roman de Brut zu seiner Quelle,” particularly pp. 251 ff., in which he is chiefly interested in demonstrating Wace's ability as a poet; Margaret Pelan, L'influence du Brut de Wace sur les romanciers français de son temps, Paris, 1931, passim, especially pp. 69, 70, 88, 148-9, 166, 171, in which she stresses mainly the characteristics of Wace's style which were imitated by other writers; F. M. Warren, four articles on “Some Features of Style in Early French Narrative Poetry,” Modern Philology, Vols. III and IV.

2. See, e.g., vv. 10,901-12, the description of the Roman envoys as they approached Arthur at the feast (Geoffrey, IX. xv. 459); vv. 3467-82, the ravages of the sea beast (Geoffrey, III. xv. 295); vv. 12,092-110, Gawain and the other envoys of Arthur at the camp of Lucius (Geoffrey, X. iv. 474).

3. In telling of Arthur's defiance to Lucius, delivered by his nephew Gawain, and of the demands of Lucius on this occasion, Geoffrey merely states generally what the two said, and only reports that Gawain killed Quintilian because he made a slur upon the Britons (X. iv. 474-5). Wace (vv. 12,116-55) gives the speech of Gawain in his own words, as well as the remark of Quintilian. See also the encounter between Brutus and Anacletus (Geoffrey, I. vii-viii. 230-1; Wace, vv. 375-98); etc. These again are merely convenient examples of this method in Wace; characters in the poem frequently break into speech on occasions when Geoffrey only reports the sense of what they said.

4. Cf. also vv. 11,043-51, Gawain's answer to Cador's remarks on the debasing effects of peace; vv. 11,321-2, the response of Arthur's counselors to the speech of the king of Scotland; vv. 12,842-51, the response of the army to Arthur's speech before his battle with Lucius; etc.

5. See also vv. 7163, 8485, 14,355, etc.

6. It is interesting to observe that Wace has altered Lear's outcries against fate and fortune as set forth by Geoffrey—“O irreuocabilia seria fatorum,” “O irata fortuna”—to a complaint, more familiar to medieval readers, against the fickle turning of the wheel of fortune:

   Fortune trop par es muable,
   Tu ne pues estre un jor estable,
   Nus ne se doit en toi fier:
   Tant fais ta roe fort torner,
   Mult as tost ta color muée
   Tost es chaoite, tost levée.
   Cui tu veus de bon oil véoir
   Tost l'as monté en grant avoir
   Et dès que tu tornes ton vis,
   Tost l'as d'auques à néant mis.
   Tost as un vilain halt levé
   Et un roi em plus bas torné:
   Contes, rois, dus, quant tu veus, plesses
   Que tu nule rien ne lor lesses.

   (vv. 1965-78)

7. His attitude toward Luclon, mother of Ferrex and Porrex, is an exception to this (vv. 2209-26); but she enters too briefly into the narrative to receive any sympathy. Wace does occasionally represent a king as bad in all respects—for example, Eumanus (vv. 3685 ff.) and Membricius (vv. 1497 ff.)—but these are persons who appear only momentarily in the chronicle, and he merely follows Geoffrey in his characterization of them.

8. Vv. 13,479-82. See also vv. 13,569-70 and v. 13,582.

9. The morals which Wace draws are, of course, implicit in Geoffrey's narrative, if one wishes to find them there; it is characteristic of the poet that he pauses to point them out.

10. Cassibellaunus also met his downfall because of his “grant orguil” (v. 4562) towards Androgeus, who was not appeased until the king had been “tant humiliés” (v. 4861) that he begged aid from his wronged kinsman. So also Winder, for his pride (v. 5005), was humbled, and the “orgoil” of Arivargus (v. 5222) in refusing to pay the tribute due to Rome was finally subdued. Likewise Edwin, who was “orgillos” (v. 14,558), met with defeat in the end, as did also the “orgillos” Peanda (v. 15,044). Similarly, Arthur rejoiced over having reduced “l'orgoil de Rome” (v. 13,385-6).

11. G. Paris notes (Litt. fr. au moyen âge, 1890, p. 55) that desmesure “joue dans notre épopée le rôle de l'hybris dans l'épopée grecque.”

12. For Wace's descriptions of the kings whom he evidently regards as commendable monarchs, see vv. 1531-40, 2645 ff., 3295-3300, 3526 ff., 3671 ff., 5802-3, etc. Their chief qualities appear to be the ability to rule wisely and justly, to make themselves so feared by others that no one will dare to attack their land, to show themselves strong and “de grant measure,” to establish and keep peace and justice in the realm. Caesar he appears to admire not only for his prowess, but also for his knowledge of human nature and for his skill in handling and drawing under his control men of all ranks (vv. 3902 ff., vv. 4253 ff.). To Arthur, apparently his ideal of a knightly king, he assigns not only the strength and the generosity in giving which Geoffrey mentions (IX. i. 432), but also a love of glory and renown, and a desire to make his deeds such as would live in memory, a haughtiness which could meet haughtiness in others, side by side with a pitying regard for the lowly and a willingness to respect and comply with a request for aid from the needy. It may be noted that Suger also states that it is the duty of a king to care for the poor and indigent, in his Gesta Ludovici Regis, Cog. Grossi), ed. Molinier (Coll. de Textes pour servir à l'enseignement de l'hist.), Paris, 1887, p. 41. Arthur, moreover, had himself served with courtesy and maintained himself nobly. It is noteworthy also that Wace has Arthur make war upon the Saxons, not, as Geoffrey says, because he wished to gain from them wealth to distribute to his retinue, but because he had vowed to rid the land of this treacherous and dangerous people (vv. 9267-71)—evidently, to Wace, a more admirable motive.

13. It is interesting to observe that Layamon, in retelling this story from Wace, has supplied the one detail needed to complete it (vv. 4478-559); namely, that the Danish king discovered the princess not by chance, as Wace and Geoffrey have it, but by the fact that the sails of her ship alone were of silk. Here, then, we can follow the growth of a popular tale as it passed through three successive hands, and perceive the motives which led to the accretion of details about the bare plot.

14. A noteworthy alteration by Wace occurs in his account of Maximian's coming to Britain. Geoffrey (V. ix. 341 ff.) relates that Caradoc, duke of Cornwall, sent his son Maurice secretly to Rome, without the knowledge or sanction of the British king and his council, to ask Maximian to come to Britain as successor of Octavius. When Maurice brought him, it became necessary to introduce him to the court by a ruse, since he had not been officially asked to come. Wace, apparently disliking the trickery thus employed, omits the statement that Maurice went to Rome secretly, and, instead, has the king, Octavius, agree to the plan of sending for Maximian; and he therefore omits mention of the ruse related by Geoffrey (vv. 5942-6003).

15. Ordericus Vitalis, Hist. Eccles., ed. Le Prevost, 1885 (Soc. de l'hist. de France), Vol. V, p. 82.

16. Ibid., p. 108.

17. C. W. David, “Robert Curthose,” Harvard Historical Studies, Vol. XXV, pp. 157-8, 168. Mr. David tells us that nearly all the barons spurned Robert's authority “and betrayed the fealty which they owed him, while they ran after the king's gold and silver and surrendered towns and castles on every side”; so that Henry was finally forced to return to England for more money. Henry of Huntingdon also states (Hist. Angl., Rolls Ser., p. 235) that Henry I on this occasion “conquisivit igitur Cadomum pecunia.”

18. Vv. 4778-83; Geoffrey, IV. ix.

19. See also vv. 4631-2, 5896-7, 9103-4.

20. “Etymologien,” says Ulbrich (op. cit., p. 197), “sind sein Steckenpferd.”

21. He does have the Scotch, imploring mercy of Arthur, remind him that they, though they were Christians, had been forced into submission to the pagan Saxons (vv. 9700-62); but their whole speech is an invention of the poet, suggested only by Geoffrey (IX. vi. 442), and this detail was probably the result of his desire to arouse a sympathetic interest in the plight of the conquered and miserable people. For parallel passages in Geoffrey and Wace on this point, see further vv. 7163-82, Geoffrey, VI. xii; vv. 7239-42, Geoffrey, VI. xiii; etc. Considering that Wace completed the Roman only a few years after the launching of the Second Crusade, his failure to show any emotional concern regarding the opposition of heathen to Christian seems to argue a lack of interest in the matter on the part of his readers also.

22. He abridges also Geoffrey's account of Maximian's cruelty towards the people of Gaul (V. xiii), omitting mention of his enlistment particularly of those men whom he knew to be greedy (vv. 6026-101). Throughout his poem he occasionally leaves out passages which seem to express an unnecessary or superfluous cruelty. Where it is an essential part of a characterization, however, he makes no bones about relating such details, as in the account of Morvid (vv. 3457-66).

23. See also vv. 14,669-78 (Geoffrey, XII. v-vi), in which he omits both the rather patronizing speech of the king of Brittany and the defensive answer of Cadwallo, and speaks only of the amity of their relationship.

24. These last three verses appear in a late MS, but, according to the editor, are scratched out in the MS which he used as the basis for the printed edition.

25. E.g., Geoffrey's long lamentation after the conquest of Britain by Gormond (XI.ix); his disapproving exclamations over Vortimer's hardihood in wishing to have his dead body raised over the port where the Saxons landed (VI. xiv); the lamentations of the Neustrians and Angevins over their slain dukes (X. ix. 489).

26. Geoffrey also is cautious here: “Cuius sermones si ueros esse arbitrarer …” (II. ix).

27. Wace took this, of course, from Geoffrey's prophecies of Merlin, in which the prophet says of Arthur, “& exitus eius dubius erit” (VII. iii. 385).

28. For similar disclaimers of knowledge on his part, see also vv. 9673 ff., in his account of the wonders of the Scotch lake: “Ensi come je oï retraire”; and v. 3452 in his account of the incredible numbers killed in battle by Morvid: “Ne sai comment il fu prové.”

29. “Some Features of Style in Early French Narrative Poetry,” four articles which appeared in Modern Philology, Vol. III (1905-6) and Vol. IV (1906-7). For references to Wace see Vol. III, pp. 187, 190-2, 517-29; Vol. IV, pp. 657-8, 662, 672-3. Warren notes particularly the poet's use of the repetition of words and phrases and of the “tirade lyrique”; and he comments as follows upon Wace's art (Vol. IV, p. 657): “Wace was ever self-conscious; he took his vocation seriously; he studied his words and his rhythm; he strove after style. With the object of perfecting his poetic art, he gladly received every tradition component of literary expression and tried to improve upon it, to embellish it.”

    Aside from the qualities mentioned by Warren, we may note also as characteristic qualities of his technique the balanced verse (e.g., vv. 2401, 3572, 6214, etc.), antithesis in the verse (e.g., vv. 3676, 7749, etc.), and antithesis in the couplet (e.g., 5550-1, etc.).

30. Dr. Philpot has called attention to a similar use of repetition in Thomilaine's reconciliation of Brennius and Belinus (Maistre Wace, pp. 53-5), and the effectiveness of this passage was noted by Ulbrich also (op. cit., p. 204). Wace used the same device in his statement of the plea of the conquered Scots to Arthur, in large part an invention of the poet (vv. 9712-62; Geoffrey, IX. vi), though his achievement in this is less successful.

31. Examples are the speech of the flatterers to Brennius (vv. 2387-2450; Geoffrey, III. i), the letter of Cassibellaunus to Caesar (vv. 3985-4042; Geoffrey, IV. ii), the speech of Androgeus to Caesar (vv. 4880-915; Geoffrey, IV. x), the speech of Cador to Arthur as they go to take counsel regarding the demand of Rome, and Gawain's answer (vv. 11,015-51; Geoffrey, IX. xv. 461), the speech of Helena's nurse to Bedivere's inquiry (vv. 11,663-834; Geoffrey, X. iii), and many others.

32. Margaret Pelan, op. cit., p. 70. The characterization by G. Paris (Litt. norm., 1899, p. 27) is also of interest: “Par son amour sincère de la vérité (lui demander de la critique serait peu raisonnable), par la justesse habituelle de son jugement, par son style sobre, net, sans grand éclat, mais toujours assez vif et souvent animé d'une ironie presque épigrammatique, il nous représente bien l'esprit normand d'autrefois dans sa teneur moyenne, et il mérite d'être de la part des Normands l'objet d'études attentives.”