Medieval English Nunneries c. 1275 to 1535 Part 42

Ah, ah, vive l'amour!

Cela ne durera pas toujours,

goes with a delightful swing:

Ce matin je me suis levee Plus matin que ma tante; J'ai descendu dans mon jardin Cueillire la lavande.

Je n'avais pas cueilli trois brins Que mon amant y rentre; Il m'a dit trois mots en latin: Marions nous ensemble.

--Si mes parents le veul' bien, Pour moi je suis contente.

Si mes parents ne le veul' pas Dans un couvent j'y rentre.

Tous mes parents le veul' bien, Il n'y a que ma tante.

Et si ma tante ne veut pas Dans un couvent je rentre.

Je prierai Dieu pour mes parents Et le diable pour ma tante![1763]

In another song, with the refrain

Je ne m'y marieray jamais Je seray religieuse,

the girl laments her own coyness which has lost her her lover[1764].

Sometimes, on the other hand, it is the lover's falseness which drives her to enter a convent. In a song, which first occurs about 1555, the maiden laments "qu'amours sont faulses":

Je m'en iray rendre bigotte Avec les autres, Et porteray le noir aussi le gris (sont les couleurs de mon loyal amy) si porteray les blanches patenostres comme bigotte[1765].

In another very graceful little ditty the lover goes through the world in rain and wind, seeking his true love and finds her at last in a green valley:

Je luy ay dit "doucette, ou vas tu maintenant?

(m'amour)"

"m'en vois rendre nonnette (helas) en un pet.i.t couvent.

Puis que d'aultre que moy vous estes amoureux.

(m'amour) qui faict qu'en grand esmoy (helas) mon coeur soit langoureux.

Helas, toute vestue je seray de drap noir (m'amour) monstrant que despourveue (helas) je vis en desespoir"[1766].

Moreover the convent also plays its part in that numerous cla.s.s of folk songs, which tells of the discomfiture of a too bold gallant by the wits of a girl. An early example occurs in 1542:

L'autrier, en revenant de tour Sus mon cheval qui va le trou, Par des...o...b.. la couldrette L'herbe y croit folyette.

Je m'en entray en ung couvent Pour prendre mes esbatemens.

Par ung pet.i.t guinchet d'argent Je vis une nonnette, Vray Dieu, tant jolyette.

Des...o...b.. les drabs quand je la vys Blanche comme la fleur du lys, Je ma.s.seitys aupres du lit En lui disans: nonnette Serez vous ma miette?

Chevalier, troup me detenez, D'en faire a vostre voulente Si m'en laissez ung peu aller, Tant que je soye paree, Tost seray retournee.

Sire chevalier, ra.s.semblez A l'esperirer vous resemblez, Qui tient la proye enmy ses pieds Et puis la laisse enfuire Ainsi faictes vous, sire.

La nonnette si s'en alla A son abbesse racompta La en ces bois a ung musart Qui d'amour m'a priee, Je luy suis eschappee.

Le chevallier il demeura Soulz la branche d'ung olivier Attendant la nonnette-- Encore y peust il estre![1767]

Folk-songs, like flowers, spring up--or perhaps are transplanted--in the same form in different lands and under different skies; they laugh at political divisions and are a living monument to the solidarity of Europe.

Thus a song taken down from the lips of a Piedmontese _contadina_ in the nineteenth century is almost exactly the same as the sixteenth century French poem just quoted, even to such details as the olive and the fowler:

Gentil galant ca.s.sa'nt el bosc, S'e risc.u.n.tra-se'nt una munia, L'era tan bela, fresca e biunda.

Gentil galant a j'a ben dit: --Sete-ve s cun mi a l'umbreta, Mai pi viu sar munigheta.

--Gentil galant, spetei-me s, Che vada poze la tunicheta Poi turnr con vui a l'umbreta-- A l'a speta-la tre d, tre noit Sut a l'umbreta de l'oliva.

E mai pi la munia veniva.

Gentil galant va al munaste, L'a pica la porta grandeta; J'e sort la madre badessa.

--Coza cerchei-vo, gentil galant?

--Mi ma cerco na munigheta, Ch'a m'a promess d'avn a l'umbreta.

--J'avie la quaja dnans ai pe, V'la s la.s.sa-v-la vule via.

Cozi l'a fait la munia zolia[1768].

Another version, still sung in many parts of France, is called _The Ferry Woman_. In this a girl ferrying a gentleman from court across a stream, promises him her love in return for two thousand pounds, but bids him wait till they land and can climb to the top room of a house. But when the gallant leaps ash.o.r.e she pushes off her boat, taking the money with her and crying: "Galant, j't'ai pa.s.se la riviere:

Avec ton or et ton argent Je vais entrer dans un couvent, Dans un couvent de filles vertueuses Pour etre un jour aussi religieuse!

"Si je pa.s.se par le couvent, J'irai mettre le feu dedans, Je brulerai la tour et la tourniere Pour mieux bruler la belle bateliere"[1769].

Occasionally the references to nuns in folk-songs have even less significance. Thus one of the metamorphoses gone through by the girl, who (in a very common folk theme) a.s.sumes different shapes to elude her lover, is to become a nun:

"Si tu me suis encore Comme un amant Je me ferai nonne Dans un convent, Et jamais tu n'auras Mon coeur content."

"Si tu te fais nonne Dans un couvent Je me ferai Moine chantant Pour confesser la nonne Dans le couvent"[1770].

Again in _Le Canard Blanc_ occur the question and answer:

Que ferons nous de tant d'argent?

Nous mettrons nos filles au couvent Et nos garcons au regiment.

Si nos fill's ne veul' point d'couvent Nous les marierons richement[1771].

One very curious song deserves quotation, a Florentine carnival song of the time of Lorenzo the Magnificent, written by one Guglielmo called _Il Giuggiola_. It retails the woes of some poor "Lacresine" or "Lanclesine"

who have come to Rome on a pilgrimage and been robbed of all their money on the way, and the ingenious suggestion has been made that "Lacresine" is a corruption of "Anglesine" and that the song is supposed to be sung by English nuns; certainly it is in broken Italian, such as foreigners would use:

Misericordia et caritate Alle pofer Lacresine Che l'argente pel chammine Tutt'a spese et consumate.

Del paese ba.s.se Magne, Dove a.s.sai fatiche afute Tutte noi pofer compagne Per ir Rome sian fenute.

Ma per tanto esser piofute, Non pofer Lanclesine.

Nelle parte di Melane State noi mal governate, Che da ladri et gente strane Nostre robe star furate; Talche noi tutte bitate [Non mai piu far tal chammine.]

Pero pofer Lanclesine Buon messer da caritate.

Queste pofer Nastasie Le fu tutte rotte stiene Talche sue gran malattie Per vergognia sotto tiene.

Cos zoppe far conviene Con fatiche suo chammine Per pofer Lanclesine Buon messer da caritate.

Chi e dijote San Branchatie Che star tant' in ciel potente, Per afer sue sancte gratie Voglia a noi donare argente, Che le pofer malcontente Pessin compier lor chammine, Per pofer Lanclesine Buon messer da caritate[1772].

"Pity and charity for poor English ladies, who have spent and used up all their money on the road. From the land of low Germany, where we have had great difficulties, all we poor sisters are on our way to Rome, but because it has rained so hard, we have not been able to continue our road. _Therefore, good sirs, give alms to us poor English ladies._ In the district of Milan ill-used were we, for thieves and strangers stole all our goods; so buffetted were we, never again will we go on such a journey. _Therefore, good sirs, give alms to us poor English ladies._ Poor Anastasia was so knocked about, that in shame she hides her ill and must needs continue her road limping.

_Therefore, good sirs, give alms to us poor English ladies._ Whoever is a devotee of St Pancras, who is so powerful in heaven, whoever wishes to have his grace, let him give us money, so that we poor miserable creatures may get to our journey's end; _therefore, good sirs, give alms to us poor English ladies_."