Читать книгу A History of Bohemian Literature - hrabe Francis Lützow - Страница 6

Table of Contents

If it were possible to compare the greatest literature of the world with that of a small and little-known country, it might be said that the "Question of the Manuscripts" is the necessary beginning of every account of Bohemian literature, just as the "Homeric Question" must form the commencement of every work on the literature of Greece. The "Question of the Manuscripts" turns on the genuineness of two documents which first became known at the beginning of the present century, and were supposed to be the most ancient writings in the Bohemian language. These manuscripts have from the first attracted great notice, and they gave a great impulse to the revival of Bohemian literature in the present century. The Manuscript of Königinhof is also by no means devoid of poetical merit, and these documents will therefore always have to be mentioned, even should it be finally proved that both were forgeries.

The manuscript that was first discovered is the so-called Rukopis Kralodvorsky or Manuscript of Königinhof.[1] It was stated that this document had been found by Venceslas Hanka (afterwards librarian of the Bohemian Museum) in the tower of the deanery church of Königinhof, or Králové Dvur, on September 16, 1817. It was further declared that Hanka's attention had first been attracted to the manuscript by Borč, chaplain at Königinhof, who was previously aware of its existence. The discovery at Königinhof immediately created great sensation even in countries very distant from Bohemia, a circumstance all the more worthy of note as Bohemia was then even more unknown than it now is. Goethe was greatly interested in the new discovery, to which he frequently refers in his writings, and he himself published a translation, or rather adaptation, of the Kytice (Nosegay), one of the lyrical poems of the Manuscript of Königinhof. Numerous translations of these poems into English,[2] German, Polish, Russian, Italian, and other languages soon appeared, and the interest was of course yet far greater in Bohemia itself, where they became the recognised models for the Bohemian writers who were then beginning to revive the national language.

Though some doubts as to the genuineness of the manuscript were expressed from the moment of its appearance, yet the majority of the Bohemian learned men, including such authorities as Palacký and Šafařik, firmly maintained its ancient origin. Within the last twenty years a change has taken place. Perhaps the majority of the Bohemian philologists of the present day believe the manuscript to be a forgery, that is to say, that it was written at the beginning of the present century. Its genuineness has been attacked from the palæographic point of view; it has been attempted to prove anachronisms in the manuscript; and it has been asserted that it contains verbal formations unknown to the early Bohemian language. A chemical examination of the manuscript has, however, proved that it differs in no way from authentic Bohemian manuscripts of the fourteenth century, and it can therefore now be affirmed that the Manuscript of Königinhof cannot be attacked from the point of view of palæography.[3] The defenders of the manuscript have been less successful in their endeavours to disprove the statement that it contains anachronisms, which could not have been committed by a writer of the thirteenth or fourteenth century. The almost complete darkness which surrounds the condition of the Slavonic race in very early times renders it very difficult to form a judgment on many of the disputed points. The defenders of the manuscript also lay stress on its similarity to undoubtedly genuine collections of early Bohemian writings, such as those known as the Manuscript of Königgrätz and that of St. Vitus. It is true that the contents of these collections differ somewhat from those of the manuscript, and are mainly of a religious character.

As regards the philological test, it is certain that the manuscript contains some verbal formations of which no other example can be found in the scanty remains of early Bohemian writings that have been preserved. On the other hand, in consequence of the very scantiness of these remains, a Ἁπαξ Λεγομενον does not necessarily prove the falsehood of the document in which we find it. The defenders of the manuscript have shown great ingenuity in proving that many of the locutions, unknown to ancient Bohemian, may be traced to the Moravian dialect, which at all times has differed somewhat from the language of Bohemia. They therefore maintain that the poems of the manuscript originated not in Bohemia itself, but in the sister-land, Moravia.

If the falsehood of the manuscript be admitted, the question arises, Who was the falsifier? who at the beginning of the present century, when the Bohemian language was at its lowest level, had a sufficient knowledge of that language to have written these poems? Hanka, of whom it is natural to think, has left us verses of his own so vastly inferior to some of the poems contained in the manuscript, that it is almost impossible to believe him to have been its author.[4]

Whatever may be the final result of the discussion, the Manuscript of Königinhof will always remain one of the curiosities of literature. The first part of the manuscript consists of six ballads, if we may thus describe them, five of which deal with warlike events; the first,[5] which describes a battle between the Bohemians and the Germans, has a distinctly heathen character. The sixth ballad contains a description of a tournament, and is one of those pieces in which the opponents of the genuineness of the manuscript think that they have discovered anachronisms. The second part of the manuscript consists of eight shorter songs. Some of them are by no means devoid of poetic merit, but they have a somewhat sentimental manner, which makes them appear rather modern to the reader. The adversaries of the manuscript have not been slow in noting this circumstance. I shall only translate one of the short poems of the manuscript, entitled "The Cuckoo":—

"In the fields there stands an oak-tree, On the oak-tree a cuckoo calls: He ever calls, he laments That spring does not last for ever. How could the wheat ripen in the fields If spring lasted for ever? How could the apples ripen in the garden If summer lasted for ever? Would not the ears of corn freeze in the stack If autumn lasted for ever? Would not the maiden be mournful If her solitude lasted for ever?"

In view of the uncertainty concerning the authenticity of the Manuscript of Königinhof, it is obviously impossible to assign a date to it. The writers who believe in its genuine character hold that the poems were transcribed and collected in their present shape at the end of the thirteenth or the beginning of the fourteenth century, but that some of them are of far higher antiquity. The distinctly heathen character of one of these poems renders this certain, of course, if only we can dismiss the supposition of a modern falsification.

The second ancient Bohemian manuscript that was supposed to have been discovered at the beginning of the present century is that of Zelená Hora or Grüneberg, which is generally mentioned in connection with the Manuscript of Königinhof, and is printed together with it in most editions. It has now been proved that the Manuscript of Grüneberg is a falsification dating from the present century, and its genuineness is now no longer maintained by any scholars, though a natural patriotic feeling has rendered it painful to many to admit that this manuscript, which was attributed to the ninth century, and described as "the most ancient document in Bohemian, and indeed in all Slavonic literature," is nothing but a fraudulent imposture.

It is proverbially easy to be wise post eventum, that is, in this case, after the fact of a forgery is recognised, but it is difficult to repress very natural surprise that the mysterious manner in which the Manuscript of Grüneberg first became known did not create greater suspicion than was actually the case. The manuscript was (in 1818) sent anonymously by post to Francis Count Kolovrat-Liebsteinsky, then high burgrave (or governor) of Bohemia. That nobleman had shortly before published an appeal to the Bohemians in favour of the National or Bohemian Museum, of which he was one of the founders, and which had as principal object the preservation of the relics of Bohemian antiquity. It was not until many years later that John Kovár, steward on Count Colloredo's estate of Grüneberg, declared that he had found the manuscript in an outlying room of the castle of Grüneberg; he further stated that he had believed his master, Count Colloredo, to have been so thoroughly German in his feelings that he would have destroyed the manuscript had it been shown to him. It is difficult for others than Bohemians to realise the absurdity of such a statement. The strictly absolutist government of Austria during the first half of the present century inexorably suppressed all public demonstrations of national feeling; whether German or Slavonic. It was thus impossible that literary controversies should assume a political aspect at that period, though this has certainly happened in more recent times. It was equally absurd to suggest that Count Colloredo, a distinguished general during the Napoleonic wars, was likely to take any interest whatever in documents belonging to the early period of the Bohemian language—a language that then, and even far more recently, was almost unknown to the upper classes of Bohemian society.

The Manuscript of Grüneberg consists of two small fragments of parchment, one of which contains a few lines only, entitled "The Decree of Domestic Law." The second larger fragment is called the "Judgment of Libussa." It deals with the semi-mythical Bohemian princess who is the heroine of many ancient tales. It is curious to note that many very grave disquisitions on the early social condition and judicial institutions of the Slavonic race have been based on this apocryphal manuscript.

The "Question of the Manuscripts," at least with regard to that of Königinhof, is yet undecided. The vast literature on the subject which has gradually accumulated has incidentally thrown much light on many social and philological questions concerning ancient Bohemia and its language. The committee of the Bohemian Museum no doubt indirectly expressed its opinion when the Manuscript of Grüneberg was removed from public view, while that of Königinhof continued to be exhibited in the hall of manuscripts in the museum.

Several other Bohemian manuscripts purporting to be of very ancient origin also made their appearance at the beginning of the present century, and modern additions were made to an authentic ancient manuscript. These falsifications were soon discovered, and in some cases suspicion undoubtedly points to Hanka.

The earliest Bohemian writings, the authenticity of which is uncontested, have a distinctly Christian and religious character. One of the most ancient written documents in the Bohemian language is the hymn "Gospodi pomiluj ny" (Lord have mercy on us). The earliest version is written in a language resembling the Old Slavonic, but with many specially Bohemian locutions. The authorship of the hymn has been attributed to St. Cyrillus and to St. Methodius, or to their early disciples, but there is no evidence to prove this conjecture. The date of the hymn also cannot be fixed, but the chronicler, Comas of Prague, tells us that it was sung by the people at the installation of Bishop Dietmar of Prague in 973. The hymn is sung, in a modernised version, in the Bohemian churches up to the present day.

Another very ancient hymn that has great historical interest is that to St. Venceslas. The date of this hymn also cannot be ascertained, but there is evidence that the veneration for the murdered Prince Venceslas was already very great in the eleventh century, and the hymn is certainly very ancient. The existent version dates from the thirteenth century. The composition of the hymn, which is rhymeless, but has frequent assonances, also vouches for its antiquity. The three original strophes run thus:—

"Holy Venceslas—Duke of the Bohemian land—Our Prince—Pray for us to God—And the Holy Ghost—Kyrie Eleison.

"Beautiful is the court of heaven—Happy he who enters there—Into eternal life—And the clear light—Of the Holy Ghost—Kyrie Eleison.

"Thy help we implore—Have mercy on us—Comfort the mournful—Deliver us from all evil—Holy Venceslas—Kyrie Eleison."

Many further strophes were added to this hymn when it became famous. During the Hussite wars it was the favourite war-song of the "lords sub una" (= Catholics), while the utraquists or Hussites sang the famous "All ye warriors of God."[6]

Among the very ancient documents written in the Bohemian language are a considerable number of missals, psalm-books, and translations of portions of the Holy Scriptures, which, though of great archaeological and historical interest, hardly require notice in an account of Bohemian literature.

Undeniable literary value, on the other hand, belongs to some of the many early Bohemian legends that have been preserved. Some have been known since the beginning of the revival of Bohemian literature, while others have been discovered quite recently, sometimes in parish churches or the libraries of remote monasteries. Such discoveries indeed continue up to the present day. A considerable number of these legends (with a few small writings of a more secular character) are contained in two collections, known respectively as the manuscripts of Königgrätz and of St. Vitus, the cathedral church of Prague.[7]

Many of these legends are very similar in character, and obviously adhere closely to Latin models. This, however, does not apply to all. The Legend of Judas differs greatly from other mediæval legends that deal with the same subject. It has a distinctly Oriental manner, and a strange similarity to the Greek tale of Œdipus. This is one of the few early legends the date of which can be approximately fixed. The author alludes to the murder of the last Premyslide prince (1306) as to a recent event. After referring to the death of "the hope of the Scariotic land" the author writes: "Let us on this occasion remember our country, that which has now happened in Bohemia, where there are now no kings descended from King Premysl."

One of the saints whose martyrdom the Bohemian writers have specially celebrated is St. Catherine. A long legend on this subject, which formed part of the Rosenberg Library,[8] was discovered at Stockholm, and has since been transported to Brünn. A more concise account of St. Catherine's martyrdom is preserved in the Church of St. Jacob at Brünn. Both legends have been published.

According to the longer legend, Catherine, daughter of Kost, King of Cyprus, declared that she would wed no one but Jesus Christ. She therefore refuses to marry the son of the heathen Emperor Maxentius. After fifty of the wisest masters vainly attempted to persuade her to renounce Christianity, Catherine is cruelly tortured by order of the Emperor Maxentius, and finally decapitated. The description of her martyrdom gives a curious insight into mediæval mysticism. By order of the Emperor, who is enraged at her steadfastness, "the beadles whip her with threefold whips of horse-hair," which have "leaden knots and angles;" then her snow-white nude body appears in six colours: her body appears white, her face green; red the flowing stream of blood; black the open wounds; blue the stripes caused by the whip; golden the plaits of her hair. All these colours of course have a mystical significance. When Catherine is decapitated, milk, as symbol of her purity, flows from her body.

Less known than the legend of St. Catherine, but certainly equally valuable, is the Bohemian legend of St. Dorothy. The martyrdom of that saint has been a favourite subject for the painters and poets of many countries. In our time Mr. Swinburne has made it the subject of a beautiful poem. Several Bohemian versions of the legend have been preserved. The most interesting of them, though probably not one of the oldest, is the version contained in the manuscript of St. Vitus. It is written in short and somewhat irregular rhymes. The mediæval mystical idea of the marriage between Christ and female saints appears here even more prominently than in the legend of St. Catherine. Dorothy, who is of royal blood, refuses to marry the cruel heathen King Fabricius and to renounce the Christian faith. The poem begins with a short invocation of St. Dorothy:—

"Dorothy, O maiden fair, The Holy Church celebrates thy festival, For thou wast a maiden choice, One chosen by God. Thy virtues, beauty, and purity No one can describe; Adorned by these Thou wast wedded to Christ. Rejoicing now with thy husband, Help us in our misery; Lead us to eternal bliss."

In consequence of her refusal to renounce Christianity, Dorothy is cruelly scourged by order of King Fabricius. The description of her sufferings is very similar to that contained in the legend of St. Catherine, but we miss the curious conceit of the six colours that suddenly appear on the body of the martyr. Dorothy is finally led out to execution, and on her way meets "Theophilus, the clerk of the land," who mockingly asks her where she is going. Dorothy answers:—

"To a garden, a delightful one, In which manifold fruits, Apples, flowers, and roses, I shall gather."

Theophilus replies with a sneer, "Send me some of the fruits which grow in your lord's garden." After Dorothy's death "a child beautifully dressed in purple" (that is, an angel) appears to Theophilus, carrying a basket which contains three apples and three roses. The child says, "My sister Dorothy sends you this fruit." Then, seeing this, Theophilus exclaims:—

"I believe in thee, O Jesus Christ, That thou art the living Son Of the True God, For whose sake the virtuous Dorothy, Guiltless, was executed to-day. I the sinner beg, O maiden, Earnestly for thy favour; Deign to intercede for me, That in the realm of thy husband I too may join thee."

The legend of St. Prokop (which forms part of the Manuscript of Königgrätz) also deserves special notice. It incidentally throws considerable light on the condition of Bohemia at the period when Christianity was introduced. There was then great antagonism between the partisans of the Greek ritual, which Cyrillus and Methodius had introduced, and the followers of the Latin Church, who from Germany had introduced their ritual into Bohemia. The monastery on the Sazava[9], of which Prokop became abbot, was the centre of those who sympathised with the Eastern Church. Up to the time when the Slavonic monks were replaced by priests of the Latin Church (in 1096), the religious services were held there according to the Eastern ritual, and when Charles IV. again established a community of Slavonic monks at Prague, he obtained for it the Pope's permission to use the Slavonic tongue in all ecclesiastical functions and to employ the Glagolitic alphabet[10]. The legend, written in an awkward and unattractive style, has little artistic value. The author was, no doubt, a monk, since the monastery of Sazava and its records were probably his source of information. As is the case with most early Bohemian legends, it is very difficult to fix the date of that referring to St. Prokop. The existent manuscript probably belongs to the early part of the fourteenth century, though the circumstance that some rhymes have been corrupted and lines omitted has led Bohemian critics to the supposition that the legend was written a considerable time before, perhaps not long after the death of St. Prokop, who lived in the eleventh century. The legend[11], as already stated, deals principally with the rivalry between the monks of the Eastern and those of the Roman ritual. Prokop, who had retired to the then desert region near the river Sazava, is found there by Prince Ulrick, who builds a monastery for him on the spot where they met. After Prokop's death, as well as that of Prince Ulrick, "Germans of the Latin rite" take possession of the monastery on the Sazava. The ghost of Prokop three times appears to them, and on his third apparition the Germans return terrified to Prague.

The author begins by thus addressing his readers: "Listen, old people and children—To what I wish to tell you—Of the patron of the Slavs—Of the holy Prokop—He who was born in Bohemia—Who propagated God's law in a saintly fashion—Who faithfully fulfilled the holy law—Who worked many miracles. … St. Prokop is of the Slav race—Born not far from Česky Brod.—That village did God well bless—In which this saint was born."

The legend then proceeds to tell us of Prokop's youth and education, laying special stress on the fact that at the monastery on the Vyšehrad he received instruction in the Slavonic language. Prokop obtains great favour among the monks, who wish to choose him as their provost. But Prokop flies from all worldly honours and retires to a desert district, "where is a river, and that river is called Sazava, and it still flows beneath the monastery." The meeting between the hermit and Prince Ulrick is thus described: "The Prince, named Ulrick—Called to the hunters, who were running in every direction—And speaking to them all said—'In what woods shall we hunt?'—He said, 'We must begin—Where shall we begin?'—'Let us,' he said—'try the hills near the Sazava.—Into these woods I desire to go—Let us go there; that is my counsel.'—All run after him; all obey him—But when they penetrate into the forest—They all lose the prince.—By God's will it happened—That not one of them remained with him.—To the prince a stag appears, beautiful—Large and very fleshy—Prince Ulrick is not frightened—And having his crossbow in his hand—He wished to shoot the stag—Which was running not far from him—Not fleeing hastily before him.—Just as if sense were given it—It placed itself on that rock—Where St. Prokop was working.—He was then felling an oak—And the stag sprang up behind him—Turning its antlers towards him.—Between the antlers it had a cross—Prince Ulrick well noticed this—Directly he drops his crossbow from his hand—And stops his horse—Seeing this wondrous animal—And the meek-faced monk—The prince begins to ask the monk—Having rapidly descended from his horse—'Who art thou who lives here in this solitude?—How art thou called and what art thou doing here?'—Holy Prokop directly—Answered him kindly—'I live in this solitude—As a sinner, and Prokop is my name.'" The prince then begs Prokop's forgiveness for having attempted the life of an animal evidently consecrated to Christ. He becomes yet more certain of the saintliness of the hermit when Prokop miraculously transforms into exquisite wine the water which the prince is drinking. Ulrick exclaims, "Such noble wine hast thou in this desert? I have been in many lands, but never have I drank better wine." He then tells Prokop that he will build a monastery on the spot where they are standing. Of this monastery Prokop, in spite of his hesitation, becomes abbot. The legend then gives an account of several other miracles wrought by him. Then "in the year 1054 after the birth of Christ, he was, two days before his death, informed by a divine vision of his approaching end." Before dying Prokop foretells that troubles after his death will befall the monks. Under the reign of Ulrick's successor the prophecy is fulfilled. The Slavonic monks are expelled and Germans take their places. During the first night which the Germans spend in the monastery Prokop's ghost appears to them, warning them to leave instantly; he again, equally without result, repeats his warning on the following day. Then "he shows himself to them on the third night—And shows them his power.—He begins to speak:—'Listen, ye Germans—I have fulfilled my duty (by giving them due warning)—But you heed not my words.—Not for you did I prepare this site—But I founded it for the sons of my own country—Not for you, faithless calumniators—You are infamous Hungarians[12], come from anywhere.—If even the prince has given you this monastery—It will to-day be taken from you.—You would not listen to good words—I will now render your dwelling on the Sazava distasteful to you.—Quick, delay not your journey—Return in haste to Prague.—After he had said this, holding a large stick in his hand—He unmercifully thrashed the Germans with it." … The legend ends with the return of the Bohemian monks to the monastery on the Sazava.

Early Bohemian legends, as already mentioned, are very numerous. Besides those already referred to, the legends of the "tears of St. Mary," the "joys of St. Mary," the "tears of Mary Magdalene," the "legends of St. George and St. Anselm," are among the best. The last-named legend expresses the characteristic opinion that Judas Iscariot was probably a German! Two allegorical poems, of a religious character, entitled The Contest of the Body and the Soul and Truth, are also very ancient.

Though the chronology of early Bohemian literature is hopelessly unreliable, it can, speaking generally, be stated—leaving the manuscripts of Grüneberg and Königinhof out of consideration—that the existent Bohemian writings of a secular character are less ancient than those dealing with entirely religious subjects. Here, too, the earliest writings have the character of poetic works; for the first prose writings belonging to Bohemia were all in Latin.

Among these early works should be mentioned several poems of an epic character, which are very similar to the chivalrous poetry of other European countries. The literature of the period of the Crusades (wars in which the Bohemians took a considerable part) possessed, in many respects, an international character. Knights of many European countries met in Palestine. A brisk exchange of ideas between men whose tendencies and ideals were identical was but natural. The subjects of the songs and epics of chivalrous poetry are limited in number, and often belong to several countries when national particularities often influence the details of the narrative. Such heroes of chivalrous poetry are Alexander of Macedon, who is conceived as a Christian knight and a crusader, Tristram and Isolde, and the other heroes and heroines of the round table; Theodoric or Dietrich of Berne (Verona), and the other heroes of ancient Gothic tradition.

In consequence of the geographical position of Bohemia, these tales reached the country later than lands lying farther west, and often from German sources. Yet the prejudiced attempts of German writers to prove that the Bohemian remains of chivalrous poetry are adaptations and translations from the German have in many cases proved unsuccessful.

In consequence of the wholesale destruction of Bohemian literature, we are here also obliged to found conjectures on a comparatively small number of fragments.

Of only one of these epic poems has a considerable portion been preserved. This is the Alexandreis, of which several manuscripts of different dates are in existence. From these fragments the erudition of Bohemian scholars has, to a great extent, reconstituted the poem: we now possess more than half the poem, and can, to a certain extent, conjecture what was contained in the still missing parts. The Bohemian Alexandreis is undoubtedly an adaptation of the Latin poem of Philip Gaultier (Walter) de Chatillon, also known from his birthplace, Lille, as Gualterus de Insulis, who lived in the twelfth century, and died about the year 1201. Chatillon's Alexandreis, based on the work of Quintus Curtius, enjoyed great popularity during the Middle Ages, and was generally adopted as the classical account of the career of the great Macedonian. The author of the Bohemian Alexandreis is unknown, but it is possible to fix an approximative date for the poem. It was undoubtedly written during the reign of King Premysl Ottokar II. (1253–78). Ottokar, who had extended the frontiers of Bohemia from the Baltic in the north to the Adriatic in the south, was often compared to Alexander the Great, and that hero's history, therefore, had great interest for the Bohemian writers of that period. Recent critics have attempted to fix the date of the Alexandreis yet more accurately. In the years 1264 and 1267 Ottokar undertook crusades against the heathen Prussians and Lithuanians, and seems even to have thought of rendering parts of those districts permanently dependent on Bohemia, thus securing for the country an outlet towards the Baltic. It is conjectured that the passage in the account of Alexander's entry into Babylon, in which the author prays that "God may grant Bohemia a king who will subdue the Lithuanians, Tartars" (see later), refers to Ottokar's far-reaching plan.

Generally speaking, the author of the Alexandreis follows strictly in the footsteps of Chatillon, or rather of Quintus Curtius, to whom so many of the mediæval tales about Alexander can be traced. Yet the Bohemian Alexandreis has not only a distinctly Christian, but also a national (Bohemian) character. The Persians are heathens doomed to hell. Margraves, burgraves, and counts are found in the contending armies. The Bohemian nobles Jan, Radvan, Mladota, and Radota form part of Alexander's court. The account of the festivities on the occasion of Alexander's entry into Babylon (a portion of which I have translated) describes them as similar to those which took place at Prague on the occasion of the coronation of the Bohemian kings. For Chatillon's hexameters the author has substituted a rhymed metre, consisting of verses of eight syllables, which generally, though not always, have a cæsura after the fourth syllable. The rhymes are very rugged and often irregular.

The author's preface begins with a quaint attempt at disarming his critics. He tells us that Solomon, the wisest of men, admitted that there were three things, and even four things that he did not know[13]; "if, then, he who surpassed all others in wisdom was liable to be mistaken, then I, should any one doubt my word, need not be offended; I who compared to him am as a weary beast to a lion, a wax taper to the sun, or a shallow rivulet to the sea."

The account of the deeds of the great Macedonian conqueror strictly follows the mediæval tradition of Alexander's career. Beginning with his birth and youth, the author then gives a detailed account of his education by Aristoteles and the wise counsel given him by that philosopher. Then follows a full account of Alexander's campaigns and victories. Very interesting is the author's account of his hero's arrival at Troy. He here has an extensive digression concerning the destruction of that city, which is not contained in Chatillon's work. It is curious to meet with the world-old tale of Paris and the three goddesses in Bohemian literature. The Christian writer no doubt considered it more seemly to relate the appearance of the three goddesses in the form of a dream. He writes: "Now it happened to him (Alexander) to march—To the spot where are the bastions of Troy—Now the only traces—Are stones lying on the ground—If it does not appear idle to you[14]—I will relate to you—Why this destruction took place—Why all this happened.—Paris was the king's son at Troy—Brought up at home in honors.—His father and mother—Out of love for their child—Treated him so kindly—That they allowed him his will in all things—The prince prepared for the chace—Nothing else was on his mind.—Then it befell—That when he was riding far away in the woods—He went astray from the other hunters—And his horse was very weary—He rode away from the path to a lonely spot—Where a fine beech-tree stood in a thicket.—Throwing his horse's bridle up to one of the branches—He fell asleep under the tree—It then befell him in this hour—That in his dream he saw three goddesses—The one who rules love—The other who rules over wisdom—And all warlike knowledge—The third who rules over (= disposes of) riches—And they had a golden apple—Which each of them desired—For on it was written:—'To her who is the most beautiful, this shall be given.'—They chose him as judge between them—Saying: 'We give you this power—That we may dispute no longer about this—Give this apple to whichever one thou wilt—And over whatever thing each of us has power—In that will she aid you.'—Then at that moment the prince—Began to take counsel with himself—Saying: 'What is not due to me—According to my right as a prince?—I have already too great riches—Also warlike spirit have I sufficient—And sense as great as others—Why then should I require greater wisdom?—My fortune also is favorable to me—But I should wish to possess a fair woman.'—Saying this he awards the apple—To her who rules over love."

The author ends his digression with these reflections: "Oh, erring heart of man—Oh, restless designs!—For the sake of one fair woman—For indeed her beauty was great—The whole world was in arms—For ten years it strove in war—Till in the eleventh year!—How can we remember all the ills that then befell Troy!"

It is natural that in a work such as the Alexandreis dealing principally with the events of war, and written for warlike knights, battle-pieces should be numerous, and indeed constitute the greatest portion of the work. The following is an extract from one of the best of these battle-pieces, the description of the battle of Arbela. Alexander has just killed "Aristomanes, prince of India." "Easy," cry the Greeks, "easy will be for us glory and praise—Now that our king has obtained such glory!—The fight was stubborn on both sides—Not few the mortal wounds—They then dealt each other—When they first met—Then the battle-axes, lances—Drew blood like water—And the Greek king rushing at the enemy—Struck at the foolish people.—Meanwhile sword, lance, and battle-axe—Aimed at him from every direction—Strike his head;—Yet his mind remains undisturbed.—Thus did he bear himself in fight—As if he had been forged out of iron—And it was easy for him to bear all blows—While fortune in everything favoured him.—Thus did death refrain from him—Though it struck down many of the best men there.—Faros was the name of one of them—The second was called Eliphas—And he was Count of Egypt—While the former was Margrave of Syria—Both were valorous men—A great loss by their deaths—Befell that heathen king. … But ever, as was said—Nothing availed the heathens—When they attempted to destroy the Greeks—Everywhere on the sand, on the grass—A stream flowed, rendering the earth bloody—In it lay the wretched men—Like a forest or a grove that has been felled.—On both sides hundreds were killed—The fourfold gates of hell—Then were opened wide—Such a cry was raised by the devils—As if they thought that the earth had resolved—To drive them out of hell—Then the souls flew away quickly—Like herds that scatter.—So many fell that day—That they would have been sufficient to fill Pluto's house—For in that battle rarely was any one spared—Until the Greeks were tired."

Very interesting is the account of the festivities which took place at Babylon when Alexander entered the town. As I have already mentioned, many of the ancient Bohemian customs on the occasion of the coronation of their kings are here accurately reproduced. The author first describes a tournament; he writes: "Already courageously and in a manner worthy of praise—Had they fought bravely—Striking with their heavy lances;—Many a one on both sides, as may be believed—Had been unhorsed.—This knightly pastime—Lasted for some time—Till the king himself gave a sign to the people—And thus did the time pass away.—Then all the more important citizens—Nobles and men who held State offices—Appeared before their king—Bringing great presents—Honouring his dignity—Goods of various sorts (they brought)—Such as to the human eye—Give the enjoyment of pleasure—For their valuable presents—They received much praise.—In the meantime they lead in panthers—Lions and many great ostriches—And whatever other birds they had collected.—The beasts shaking their cages—Began to bellow (literally neigh), not liking their imprisonment—How could they (the people) have had anything better?—Anything more pleasant to see:—Many actors and jugglers—Various boxers—With whom the streets swarmed—Gave them pleasure—And they also enjoyed music of various sorts—The rejoicing continued so long—That the whole night passed;—Then only did the people go home—Never, I ween, was there so great a rejoicing in the world.—Not even when mighty Rome—Chose her king—Was there so great joy.—Nor did they (the Romans)—With such overwhelming honours—Receive their emperor—As were then awarded to him (Alexander)—And rightly were they given to him—The honours which he then received.—For starting with but a small force—And after enduring many troubles—He had struggled so vigorously for his cause—That the whole world bowed down before him—May God deign to listen to his Christian people and ordain this—That there be such a king in Bohemia!—I warrant that then in a short time—Lithuania and the Tartars—Men of whatever name—The Besermans and the Prussians—Also the unconformed (not yet baptized) Russians—Would be in such a state of terror—That they would accept baptism—And renounce their idols—And this could happen—Were but one obstacle removed—That is, that the Germans, who are strangers here—Wish and hope—That on the bridge of Prague—[May God avert this]—No Bohemian be seen any longer[15]—And it may perhaps soon happen—That we shall see none of them (the Germans) any more—Admire your king, O city of Babylon—For, know it, he is worthy of wonder—He the conqueror of the whole world—The terror of all other kings!"

It has already been stated that the author of the Alexandreis is unknown. There is, however, no doubt that the book is the work of a Bohemian noble. The whole current of thought, the descriptions of battles and the pomps of chivalry, the author's pedantic accuracy with regard to the different grades of the nobility, his dislike of the German townsmen (up to the time of Hus the Bohemian cities were mainly inhabited by Germans)—these and other circumstances tend to prove that this supposition is correct.

Portions of other epic poems belonging to chivalrous literature have also been preserved; among them are some belonging to the circle of legends of which Theodoric was the centre; such are The Garden of Roses, Laurin, and others. They are evidently adaptations from the German, and possess little originality and less interest. Other fragments deal with the tale of the Round Table. Among these Tristram and Tandarius and Floribella may be mentioned. The former poem, as the late Mr. Wratislaw has remarked, is strikingly similar to parts of the Morte d'Arthur. This specially applies to one of the fragments which contains a description of the combat between Tristram and the "noble from Ireland whose name was Morolt." Tandarius and Floribella also differs little from many other poems of chivalry. The heroine is imprisoned and eventually rescued by Tandarius. Numerous descriptions of tournaments and single combats fill up the greatest part of the book.

Closely connected with the chivalrous poetry of an epic character are some early lyric poems that have been preserved. They, however, all belong to a period considerably later than the Alexandreis, and Bohemian critics have no doubt correctly attributed them to the reign of King John. Here, too, the songs that have been preserved are not numerous. A favourite form of these early Bohemian lyrics were the so-called Songs at Daybreak (in Bohemian Svitanicka), which have a great affinity to the French aubades and to the albes of the Provençal minstrels. The motive of these songs, several of which have been preserved, varies but slightly. They tell of the parting of two lovers, caused by the approach of dawn, and of the fears which they express with regard to the "false gossips," rivals, or inquisitive people who may be watching them. A translation of the best of these songs may be of interest.