Guillaume de Machaut

The Capture of Alexandria

Janet Shirley, Peter W. Edbury, Janet Shirley, Peter W. Edbury

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2021
• Print ISBN:
  9780754601012
• eBook ISBN:
  9781351931939
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: World History
• Index: History

Guillaume de Machaut, a man famous for both his poetry and his musical compositions, wrote his Prise d'Alexandrie (or Capture of Alexandria) just a few years after the death of his hero, King Peter I of Cyprus (1359-69). It is a verse history of Peter's reign, and was Machaut's last major literary work. Peter's ancestors had ruled the island of Cyprus since the 1190s, and in 1365 Peter gained notoriety throughout western Europe as leader of a crusading expedition which captured the Egyptian port of Alexandria. His forces, however, were unable to retain control, and Peter was left with a war against the Egyptian sultan. It was his increasingly desperate measures to continue the struggle and carry opinion with him that resulted in his murder in 1369. Machaut relied on information relayed by French participants in Peter's wars, but although he was not an eyewitness of these events, his account is independent of other narratives of the reign which were written in Cyprus apparently under the auspices of the king's heirs.

Part I

The Capture of Alexandria

By

Guillaume de Machaut

1. Prologue¹

Here begins the book of the Capture of Alexandria

Gods once upon a time would fall in love

and goddesses would play those courteous games

tender, delicious, made for lovers’ use;

and it was then that the bright sun, fair moon,

the commune of the stars, all the twelve signs

that rule the zodiac, together with

the shining planets, clear and bright, agreed

to call a parliament.

Mighty, majestic, came the glorious gods,

came scores of goddesses, far more of both

than I have room to tell you; nymphs from woods,

from rivers; satyrs too of every sort;

women tragedians² who humbly serve

the gods and offer sacrifice; and nymphs

of poetry, creatures of fairy kind.

One goddess stayed away. The noble task

did not appeal to Circe, wicked witch.

Mistress of powerful spells, she would have ruined

the meeting and their hopes.

Look at this lady – royally she comes!

Royal the throng of gods, but she, most fair,

Venus, outshines them all. With her comes Mars,

the god of war. How well she knows her worth,

decked out in all the splendour she deserves,

goddess and queen, ruler of hearts and souls,

of bodies and the wealth of all who love –

and yes, by God! of those as yet untouched.

No one breaks free whom Venus deigns to grasp.

The god of war spoke first.

‘I’ like to know’,

he said, ‘what you all think. I had dear friends,

but they’re all dead, alas, died wretchedly!

Good Alexander, he was one of them,

he conquered England, Flanders, all the world,

and sought incessantly by land and sea

for other realms and countries to subdue;

Hector and Caesar, Judas Maccabaeus,

King David, Joshua, great Charlemagne,

Arthur who suffered much, and the good duke

Godfrey of Bouillon, who invested all –

his gold, his wisdom, strength and courage, heart –

in his great task, and won the Promised Land,

or most of it, and there at last he died.

It falls to us now. We ought, all of us,

seek out a new Duke Godfrey, find a man

ready and able to defend his land.’³

‘Mars is quite right, that’s certain,’ said they all,

no deity dissenting. Then they begged

Nature to make a creature who should be

the best, most excellent, she could construct.

Into conjunction Nature brought two gods,

Venus and Mars. By Love and War she made

the creature that was needed, and so well

she did the work that everyone approved.

And God Himself, master and lord of all

who live and die, all that are, were, shall be,

God without end, the first and last, supreme

above all gods, He in His sovereign skill

placed life and soul within His creature. Soon,

guided and ruled by Nature, Venus bore

the fruit of that conjunction I described.

Vesta the priestess, lady of the nymphs,

of the tragediannes both old and young,

and of their holy temples, offered prayers

to every god and goddess, begging them

in noble generosity to give

a happy destiny to this new child.

Then she made sacrifice – heifer, ox, bull –

to every god and goddess who was there.

Gladly they took her offerings and so raised

the child to highest rank; and this is fact,

though, I don’t know, some of you may suppose

that it’s a pretty fable, nothing more.

Now ancient Saturn spoke. He talked good sense;

outranked by none, no god or goddess there

could claim more years.

‘Reason demands,’ he said,

‘that Courage place this child within a home

where Honour dwells. Quick now, let’s give him gifts;

this is appropriate, this we should do.’

Generous and prompt, each god hurried to give

the child fine gifts which would ensure his place

in Honour’s house.

And Fortune, was she there?

That I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see

and find out how she treats him in the end.

Now our young child is born. God give him grace,

good life and honour! Which day did he come?

Nature and God created this new man

in the year twenty-nine, Saint Denis’ day,

as daylight faded and the evening fell.⁴

Good care and right companions must be found –

four goddesses they chose, famous, revered,

to cherish, rule, teach and instruct the boy.

Hebe, goddess of youth, as sweet and kind

as she is fair, the darling cup-bearer

to the great gods, would guard his infancy

till he reached understanding, and perhaps

if need be later still. The gentle girl

would do this duty well.

Minerva next

they asked to serve the boy, and she was glad

as he and she were cousins. Goddess, queen,

she’s mistress of all wisdom.

After her,

bedecked with glory, Juno – and the air

sparkled all round her as th...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• Foreword
• Translator’s note
• Chronology
• Map
• Introduction
• Part I
• Part II
• Bibliography
• Index