Like Fulk fitz-Warine, but unlike Robin Hood, the story of Eustace the Monk is about a real person and retains some of the historical trappings. One highly decorated manuscript of the story survives, although some other manuscripts seem to have existed. The surviving manuscript was written around 1284, and the text was composed no earlier than 1223. The author is unknown, but the text was composed in Picard, the dialect of French spoken in the area around Boulogne.

Eustace came from Courset, which was very close to the town of Boulogne. As a young man he went to the Mediterranean, probably to Italy, not Spain, to learn sailing, and most of his career was as a highly successful pirate based on the Channel island of Sark. After his return home, he entered the monastery of St. Vulmar in Samer. His father died around 1190, in circumstances pretty much as the poem describes. It seems likely that Eustace left the monastery, probably not because he was too much trouble, but more likely because he became the heir to the holding of Courset (although he did have brothers).

For many years, relations between Eustace and the count of Boulogne, Renaud of Dammartin, seem to have been good, for when Renaud left Boulogne to serve in the French royal army that conquered Normandy, Anjou, and Maine in 1202-3, Eustace remained in Boulogne as the count's seneschal. Shortly after that, Eustace fell into disfavor. Although the poem makes it seem that he was hanging around for years driving Count Renaud crazy, Eustace probably only troubled him for a year, for in 1205, Eustace had already become a pirate. Despite his career choice, Eustace seems to have had good relations with King John of England, the lord of the Channel Isles, for he appears as John's ambassador to Boulogne in 1209. However, in the same year, he was formally outlawed by King Philip II of France.

The tables turned again when Renaud began negotiating with John in 1212 (Renaud eventually entered an alliance with John against Philip; he was captured by Philip at the battle of Bouvines in 1214 and committed suicide in prison), and Eustace switched to the French side. Despite his naval experience, he managed to lose the ship entrusted to him at the battle of Damme, which soured his relations with Philip somewhat. In 1215, when the English barons revolted against King John, Eustace ran weapons to assist them. Nevertheless, he seems to have had some pull at the English court, for members of his family who had been seized were released in that year. In 1217, he was participating in a French maritime invasion of England, when his boat became separated from the main flotilla and was taken. Eustace was executed immediately.

The poem celebrates some of Eustace's exploits, while ignoring others. Many of the stories are inventions, stories attributed to many different outlaws. Although written no more than fifty years after Eustace's death, most of the poem belongs in the realm of fiction.

This translation from the original French is based on Li Romans de Witasse le Moine: Roman du treizième siècle, ed. D. J. Conlon (Chapel Hill, 1972) and follows the division into laisses in that edition and in the manuscript; the translation is my own, although I am grateful to Paul Nelson for help. Modern readers may find the narrative style of the poem a bit strange. The author uses a lot of parataxis (placing two statements in proximity to each other without explaining the relationship between them) rather than the syntaxis (subordination and other relational devices) that characterizes modern (but not post-modern!) styles. (On syntaxis and parataxis, see Erich Auerbach, Mimesis.) This is compounded by a very short line---eight syllables---which is rather bouncy. Finally, the author, forced by the rhyme, does not always make statements in logical order and shifts from singular to plural subjects and back again (many contemporaries argued that poets were forced to lie to preserve their rhyme schemes and that therefore prose was better for serious subjects). I have supplied some connections and clarified some of the shifting subjects, but modern readers will find the narrative a little choppy and jumpy. I have also translated the whole narrative into the past tense, although old French poetic narratives often shift back and forth between present and past tense narrative. The notes are mine, unless otherwise indicated. The laisse numbering is original, but I have created the captions.

One caution: like much medieval humor, this poem can be vulgar by modern standards, and I've translated it into comparably vulgar terms.

Here the romance of Eustace the Monk begins

I will briefly tell you the stories of the monk as I know them. He delivered himself to Saint Samer¹ which is eight leagues distant from the sea. There he became a black monk.²

¹The monastery of St. Vulmar in Samer-en-bois. The name Samer itself is believed to be a syncopated version of Saint-Vulmar.

²A Benedictine monk, so known for their black habits.

After he returned from Toledo, where he learned necromancy, there was not a man in the realm of France who knew as much magic or sorcery. He worked many ruses upon many people. While he was in Toledo, he lived beneath the earth in a pit for all of one winter and one summer; there he spoke to the devil himself, who taught him the trickery and the art that deceives and gulls the world. He learned a thousand spells, a thousand enchantments, a thousand tricks. He knew how to do divination with a sword,³ how to read the psalter backwards,⁴ and how to divine losses in the harvest with the shoulder of a sheep.⁵ He knew how to do divination with a basin to recover a loss or theft.⁶ He knew how to enchant women, and how to ensorcel men. There was no man from here to Santiago de Compostela who knew as much about the zodiac, of the firmament, or of the heavenly sphere.⁷ He imitated the Chimera, the beast that one cannot know; it makes the monks afraid in their cloister.⁸ When Eustace had learned enough, he took leave of the devil. The devil told him that he would live until he had done enough evil. He would fight kings and counts and he would be killed at sea.

³By reading the scratches on the blade.

⁴So as to do black magic with it.

⁵This form of divination (scapulimancy) goes back to classical times; the diviner would examine the cracks in the bone.

⁶The questioner would throw money a bowl filled with water and the diviner would gaze into the bowl to see the answer.

⁷Santiago de Compostela in Galicia was the shrine of St. James and the object of a major pilgrimage in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. Spain was the land of astronomical knowledge because of its centuries of Muslim rule. Greek and Babylonian astronomical and geographical texts (and medical and philosophical texts as well) had been translated into Arabic and were available in Spain, whence many of these texts were transmitted to the rest of Europe.

⁸The chimera was a mythical monster that was a lion in front, a dragon in back, and a goat (sometimes including the head) in the middle.

Eustace returned to France; afterward he did a rotten young man's deed. One night he came to Montferrand;⁹ there he did great deviltry. The day before he left there, a rich woman tavern-keeper, who was very proud and haughty, had a great dinner prepared. It was at the time of the grape-harvest. Eustace had three companions, who had come with him from Toledo. The must¹⁰ was in the house; there were thirty vats of it. Eustace ate and drank there together with the tavern-keeper, and when he had eaten, it seems to me, and it came time to pay the bill, Eustace didn't have a penny of the local money, only money from Paris and Tours.¹¹ The lady scolded them a lot and refused their money. For the three shillings they had spent, they paid six shillings or more.¹²

When he was going to leave the town, Eustace, who knew a lot of sorcery, enchanted the tavern-keeper, and threw a grain that he had magicked earlier upon the sill of the door. And the tavern-keeper suddenly uncovered herself as far as her belt. She broke the bands of the first vat that she came to. There was a great sale of her commodities! She cried, "Now then, gentlemen!"

The wine ran through the house. Men and women ran up and when they had crossed the sill, the men tore off their pants and the women uncovered themselves to their belts or their belly-buttons. No one has ever seen such bestial vileness as happened in that house! They took the bands off the other vats; the wine ran in the streets. All the people ran there, but no one dared go in who didn't want to show his ass to everyone who had come in; for that reason, no one dared to go in.

It became apparent in the end that the pilgrims who had eaten there had done it. And the townsfolk took to the road, they went rushing after Eustace. They met the pilgrims three leagues from Montferrand. The townsfolk ran to them calling out, "Sir pilgrims, you will pay for this!"

And Eustace looked at them and said to his companions, "We're being followed here. What should we do about it?"

"By my head," said an old bearded man, who had been at Toledo for twenty years more, you may be sure of it. "I will strike them with such fear that there will be neither a clerk, a townsman, nor a priest who for five marks would want to be here."

The old man cast his spell, and a river appeared, great and broad, deep and black, larger than the Seine or Loire, between the clerks and the townsfolk. The townsfolk were terror-stricken; they turned back. To tell all, the river followed them; it struck at them incessantly with its claws. They went recoiling for fear that they would drown, and the pilgrims followed them. They returned to Montferrand and the pilgrims entered after them.

When Eustace entered the town, his trickery commenced again. The townsfolk cried out a warning, and Eustace winked at the old man to have him make a spell to put fear into the people. The tocsin began to ring, and folks started to assemble, and the evil old man began suddenly to work his spell. All grabbed each other by their heads; a great dispute arose among them. You have never seen so fierce a battle waged without spear-blows or sword-strokes. If someone happened upon the people there, he punched or grabbed the scruff of the neck of the first person he encountered. Many a blow was given there. Two thousand met each other there at Montferrand in the town; one pushed, another pursued, this one butted like a cow, another made his companion flee, another cried, "Lady! Sir!"

No one came to the battle who did not receive a slap or a blow. Then Eustace threw a grain among them and separated them all. Then they returned to themselves and were at peace, as before. None of the wine was lost; everything was as it had been before. All the women who had uncovered themselves before now covered themselves, and the men who had earlier torn off their pants, put them on again. Each one went to his inn, and Eustace took to the road and no one followed him any further.

"And you shall have them willingly."

The deal was struck right there. They climbed on, and went on riding.

The carter whipped up the horses and they leaped forward in great leaps to a fork in the road. It chafed Eustace's rear end, for the cart bumped along. They made evil progress forward. Eustace said to the cartman, "May God do you ill today! You are setting a terrible pace for us. God sent you bad luck!"

⁹Or Clermont-Ferrand.

¹⁰The extracted grape juice.

¹¹Each medieval region had its own coinage, which would not necessarily be accepted as payment elsewhere, although a few coins, such as the coins of Troyes (whence our "Troy" weights), were widely accepted. Contracts specified the coins in which payments were to be made. If one didn't have the local coins, one went to a money-changer, who would assay the coins and exchange them for the local money, taking a percentage for his trouble. Eustace has northern money, but he is now in the south of France.

¹²Medieval money: the denarius or penny (or denier in French) was the smallest minted coin, although pennies could be split into two or four parts. There were generally twelve denarii in the solidus or shilling (or sou in French) and twenty solidi to the librum (pound, livre). In addition there were other coins smaller than the pound, such as the mark, which was 2/3 of a pound, or 13 s 4 d.

"My good lord," said the carter, "It is not our trade to stay put. I have to do my work. I believe that nones has already passed."¹³

Eustace saw nothing was doing any good.

"Go softly," he said, "you vagrant, cursed be for being in such a hurry, for you have scorched all our butts!"

The carter struck the horses hard, and the old bearded man suddenly began a spell, so that the further forward the cartman went forward, the more it would seem to him that he was going backward. The old man began to conjure, and the cartman began to go backward. He began to strike the horses, and they recoiled in rage. Then he began to swear and threaten his horses.

¹³The medieval day was divided into twelve hours of daylight and twelve hours of darkness. Because the length of the day and night changed throughout the year, the length of the hours changed as well (the daylight hours were longer in summer than in winter). Nones (or the ninth hour) would be at 3 pm on the equinoxes.

"Giddy-up, Martin! Giddy-up, Fauviel! By His bowels!¹⁴ By His head! Hup! Before you, by His teeth! I'm at the point of striking you all down! Giddy-up, you lazy old mules! Nothing will ever help you!"

He began to rage, for, as I have said, he thought he was going backward.

"Lords," he said, "get down! Cursed be that you ever got up! I quit you of any claim for my fee."

When each of them saw that the carter had quitted his claim and that they had paid their debt, they sallied forth from his cart, and the carter realized that he had been deceived; he had never gone backward, but had always gone forward.

¹⁴By implication, "By Jesus's bowels!"

Eustace came to Boulogne; he became a monk at Saint-Vulmar. There he did great deviltry until he left the abbey. He made the monks fast when they were supposed to sit down to breakfast. He made them go barefoot, when they were supposed to go shod. Eustace made them speak incorrectly when they were supposed to say their hours; Eustace made them make errors when they were supposed to say grace.¹⁵

The abbot was in his chamber one day. He would have been better off if he had been traveling. They had made quite enough food and drink appear for him: pork and mutton, wild birds, and venison.¹⁶ Eustace, who had earlier fooled many a valiant man, came before the abbot.

¹⁶Benedictine monks were not supposed to eat meat unless they were ill, although monastic records show that they often did.

"My lord," he said, "I have come. Will I be retained at court? If I though I could have something to eat, I would speak of my trade."¹⁷ The abbot said,

¹⁷Eustace seems here to be implying that the abbot's table is so magnificent, he must be keeping a court like a great noble.

"You are crazy. May my neck be cursed if you are not beaten tomorrow, if you are not held in the chapter!"¹⁸

Eustace said,

¹⁸Benedictines were expected to confess their faults before all the monks in the chapter meeting and might be punished there for them.

"Those who are threatened can still live a long time. They can fight for a long time on their own behalf!"¹⁹

Eustace went into the kitchen. He saw before him a basin that was all full of water. Eustace looked at it, he saw it. He began to magic it and the water began to reflect; it became as red as blood. Eustace sat down on a bench and saw half a pig. With everyone listening, he magicked it, first on the right, then on the left. It appeared to be an old woman, ugly, lame, and grimacing. The cook took flight and told the abbot, and the abbot came and saw the old horror. In front of the whole convent, he cried out.

"In the name of our Lady," said the abbot, "Let's get out of here. It's a devil!"

¹⁹These statements appear to be proverbs.

Eustace undid the charm. He carried the meat to his neighbor, a tavern-keeper whom he much loved. All the night he ate and drank there; he diced there against everyone. He didn't leave the bell in the clock nor the crucifixes nor the pictures; Eustace bet them all. Not a single bottle remained for a Monk; Eustace the monk stole²⁰ them all.

²⁰Or "drank."

It will not annoy you to hear this. I will tell you again tonight something else that will make you laugh; you will hear me recount and tell it. Some people speak, I think, about Basin and Maugis.²¹ Basin fooled many a town, and Maugis carried out many a ruse, for Maugis carried of the crown of France by necromancy, and also Joyeuse, Corte, Hauteclere, and Durendel that was so bright.²² Basin stole from Maugis and Maugis stole from Basin. I will leave off here talking to you about Maugis, and I will say to you concerning Eustace the Monk that he knew more than Maugis or Basin, that's my opinion. In comparison, neither Barat nor Haimet knew so many tricks.²³ Now hear of Eustace the Monk, who waged a long war against the count of Boulogne, of which this is the beginning.

²¹Basin of Gênes and Maugis of Aigremont were legendary necromancers who appear in a number of epics.

²²These are swords. This episode does not appear in any surviving poem; according to Conlon, 103, ll. 292-3, this episode may come from a now lost work.

²³Barat and Haimet appear in some of the works of Jehan Bodel (d. 1210), a troubadour from Arras who in addition to various tales, composed a poetic history of Charlemagne's Saxon wars (Les Saisnes) and a play about St. Nicholas.

This Eustace of whom you've heard me speak was born in Courset in the Boulonnais. His father was called Baldwin Busquet (you know this to be the truth of it) and he was a peer of the Boulonnais.²⁴ He knew a lot about pleading and the law. He was killed by the people of Bazinghem; Humphrey of Hervelinghem²⁵ had him killed and slaughtered there because Humphrey wanted to disinherit him. Baldwin Busquet had done Humphrey harm concerning a fief over which he had pleaded in court and Baldwin had given Humphrey the blow which made the battle start.

Eustace had become a monk at Saint-Vulmar near Boulogne. Eustace left the abbey when his father lost his life. He went before the count of Boulogne.

"My lord," said Eustace the Monk, "Humphrey has murdered my father. Do me justice, I pray you."

Consequently Humphrey was called to court. Eustace rose to his feet.

"Seigneurs," he said, "now listen to me. My father is dead and slaughtered. Humphrey has put him to death and killed him for me. He is my mortal enemy!"

"Concerning this charge," Humphrey said to him, "I swear by God and by man and by myself that I was never seen or heard there: but I'm going to go complain to my friends."

²⁴In imitation of the twelve peers of Charlemagne, the counts of Flanders created "peers" of Flanders, starting, perhaps, in the late eleventh century. Other lords in the region followed suit, and designated their most important subordinates "peers."

²⁵Or Hardinghem.

Soon they exchanged sureties and delivered their pledges and hostages. Then Humphrey took an oath as to his age. It was the thirtieth year of his peerage and he swore he was sixty years old and more, if one could believe it. Then it was judged that his relative or his serjeant²⁶ could fight for him. But he didn't have a relative nor a friend who dared to undertake the battle to defend his body for him. A vassal was chosen who was big and bold and strong and handsome. He was called Eustace of Marquise. Then the battle was joined. A young man named Manesier got up; he was the nephew of Baldwin Busquet. He was a big unmarried man, and handsome and strong. Humphrey accused him of the death of his uncle, whom Humphrey had killed, and said he would prove it. Thus the battle between Eustace and Manesier was joined (each of them fought forcefully). Both were strong and proud. The battle was at Etaples. There was a great massacre of the two vassels.

Eustace the Monk came there before the count of Boulogne.

²⁶A serjeant was a mounted fighter of common origins. These became increasingly important as lords ceased to rely on the military service of their vassals to meet their military needs. [Shades of Lynn Nelson!]

"My lord," he said, "you should know without fail that I take myself from this battle, that I will never agree with it. I will avenge the death of my father."²⁷

The Monk left the field; Manesier was soon killed. The Monk then served the count and gave him account of everything; he was the seneschal of the county of Boulogne, peer and bailiff, which was his right. Humphrey spoke ill of him to the count. The count harshly withdrew his confidence in Eustace's accounting. The count summoned Eustace soon. He asked him why he had detained the payments he held. Eustace said without delay,

"You see me ready to give acount when you have spoken about me before your peers and your barons. I am a peer of Boulogne."

And the count said,

²⁷Judicial duels were still held in the thirteenth century, but they were increasingly uncommon. The church had never liked duels or ordeals, which the authorities felt were attempts to coerce God, but in a society with very strict rules about what constituted good evidence and which had little forensic science, there were often not good alternatives, particularly in a he-said/he-said situation. In England, individuals could choose a trial by combat, but even succeeding in battle would not protect them from exile if they were "manifestly guilty." Gradually the judicial duel died out. The last known case in France was in 1386 or 1387.

"You will come to Hardrei²⁸ to give account to me. There you cannot give me a false account."

Eustace said, "This is betrayal! You wish to have me put in prison."

The Monk left there; it was bad luck he left the count for many times afterward he made the count sad. The count seized his holding and burned his garden. And Eustace the Monk swore that he had done ill to burn his garden; it cost 990 marks.

One day Eustace the Monk came to two mills outside of Boulogne that the count had had made. He had made his people stay behind. He found a miller in the first mill; he began to threaten the miller that he would cut off his head if he did not go quickly to the feast of the nuptials of Simon of Boulogne.

"Say to him that Eustace the Monk is come there to light them up, for he doesn't have anything by which he can see himself eat. I will make them two such candles that I will set the mills alight."

And the miller went to the count and spoke to him about Eustace the Monk. The count leapt up without hestiation from where he sat to eat and with great urgency had them cry out, "Now after Eustace the Monk!"

The mayor jumped up and the provost jumped up. The tocsin was rung immediately. When Eustace heard it ring, he began to go home. They began to follow him, but they couldn't catch up to him. At the nuptials of Simon of Boulogne, Eustace the Monk set fire to these two mills, as you have heard. This was the pure truth!

²⁸A castle and prison of the counts of Boulogne.

One day Eustace, who knew so much about guile, was at Clairmarais. There he heard it told and related that the count was going to Saint-Omer. He put on a white cloak²⁹ and on a gown with broad sleeves. He borrowed two monks from the abbey. All three were mounted. Eustace began to ride. They went outside a wood. He met the count between two valleys. The count was leading three proud horses. The count greeted Eustace, and Eustace bowed to him. The count came to one of his houses. It came into Eustace's heart that he should go talk to the count. He immediately began to turn back. When the count had dismounted, Eustace got there. Then Eustace the Monk sat down near the count of Boulogne. What a crazy fool Eustace was when he sat down next to the count, for Eustace knew well that if he were taken he would be burnt or hanged!

"My lord," he said, "for God's sake take mercy on Eustace the Monk; I beg you to pardon him for your anger."

And the count said, "Do you wish to say more? If I can catch Eustace, I will have him burnt alive. Eustace, dressed as a pilgrim, came to burn my two mills. He began to fight me. Sooner or later I will have him spied out; if I can get my hands on him I will make him die a horrible death; I will have him tortured, or hung, or burned, or drowned."

Eustace said, "By my cloak! There should be good and beautiful peace here, for Eustace has become a monk, and you are the count of Boulogne, so you should have mercy on him. For goodness sake, Sire, I beg you to pardon him for your anger and he will be your friend. My lord, make peace with him: have mercy on a sinner!"

And the count said, "Now shut up! Don't plead with me any more about it. Go away from here! Get lost! I don't care about your words. For the love of Eustace the Monk, I can no longer trust any monk. (By the bowels of St. Mary! I think this monk is spying on me. In the whole world there is not such a bad tyrant! I'm very much afraid that he'll enchant me.) Sir monk, what is your name?"

"They call me brother Simon; I am the cellerar of Clairmarais. Eustace came to the house yesterday with his band of thirty, all proudly armed with iron. There he begged the lord abbot that he should seek a treaty from you."

Said the count, "Your abbot should not have undertaken to give him lodging, for I'm going to root him out of there. He will not be my friend if he gives lodging to my enemy. I'm going to cut all the heads off the cassocks there. Sir monk, where were you born?"

"My lord, at Lens where I lived for twenty years."

"By my faith!" said the count of Boulogne, "If you were not tonsured, you would look like Eustace the Monk in your appearance, your face, your body, your aspect and your stature, your eyes, your mouth, and your nose; but you have a big tonsure, red shoes and a white gown, and your face is discolored. I would throw all three of you in prison if it weren't for God alone. Go away from here! Get lost!"

The two monks were very frightened and Eustace wasn't any more at ease. Some of Eustace's relatives and followers were with the count. The count had made all the peers of Boulogne swear three times that they would hand Eustace over to him despite parentage and kinship. A serjeant came before the count. He told him about Eustace the Monk.

"My lord," said he, "What are you waiting for? Eustace is sitting next to you. Seize him, if you know how to strike. It's he, I'm telling you the truth."

"Do tell, Bedel, you son of a whore," said William of Mont Cavrel, "It's sir Simon the cellerar. I know him like a penny."

²⁹From the cloak it would seem that the monks at Clairmarais were Cistercians, who wore undyed wool.

"It's true," said Hugh of Guigny,³⁰ "Eustace was never so yellow."

"No," said Hugh of Bellignies, "He was born at Lens, near Hénin-Liétard."

"By my faith," said Anselm of Cayeux, "Eustace is neither yellow nor blue-white."

"No," said Wales of Capella, "He is rosy in the cheeks."

The two monks trembled for fear. Eustace said, "Folks do resemble each other."

They said their Miserere. The heart of each one leaped. Eustace took leave of the count, and all three of them took to the road. Eustace, who had learned much magic from the devil, went into a stable. He had a serjeant saddle Moriel, the count's horse, that was very rich and handsome. He mounted it and rode off. In parting, he said to the serjeant, that he should go announce to the count that Eustace had seized Moriel, and the serjeant cried out quickly,

"Haloo! Haloo! St. Mary!"

The count and the rest of his retinue jumped up.

"What's wrong with you?" said the knights.

"That devilish monk your enemy has left here mounted on Moriel."

"Truly," said the count, "by His head! By His bowels! By His wounds! Now right away, hurry up! Since he is mounted on Moriel, he will never be caught or trapped, for Morial runs like a storm, and that man has a devil in his head who leads him. I know it for a fact, I will never see the horse again. God!," said the count, "that I didn't take him when he was seated next to me!"

The serjeant said, "I told you so, but you didn't believe my words."

The count had his retinue mount, all his serjeants and knights. They went rushing after Eustace and pursuing him. Eustace came to a hamlet. There he left Moriel with a man that he knew. He knew that he had been recognized. He took off his habit and dressed himself in another costume. He put on a linen cape and slung a club around his neck. He went to guard a herd of animals that were staying in a field. The count of Boulogne came there.

"Young man," he said, "in which direction did a white monk with a black horse go?"

"My lord, he went through this whole valley, on a horse as black as a blackberry."

The count went off; he didn't stay any longer, and he followed Eustace at great speed. And Eustace didn't rest easy until he had left his animals and taken off into the forest. The count rode like a madman, so that he left all his companions behind. He saw the two monks running away. He cried out to them in great rage, "By His legs! You won't get away; you will never escape me."

The monks said their prayers, that God would rescue them from prison, from evil and from villany.

"Ah! Ah! My Lady! St. Mary! Make the count not inflict harm or shame upon us. Eustace the Monk is taken, the devil, the enemy. The count wants to take us also; I think that he will have us hanged. He is close to us. See him! By God, let us beg his mercy!"

You have never seen any two monks who had so lost their strength; they were in complete despair, for they thought they had lost everything. They had descended in a valley, and the count got off his horse. He grabbed them by the hoods and they went down on their knees.

"Have mercy, for God's sake!" said sir Vincent.

"By His legs! God!" said the count. "You will never escape me. You'll be hanged from a tree."

"My lord, mercy! My lord, mercy!"

"You will not escape in that way," said the count, "By St. Honorius! For you are proven thieves. Return my horse Moriel to me or else you will be killed."

The count had them both tied up and had them stowed at an inn.

³⁰Or Guines.

Eustace was in the forest. He saw the count's baggage train. A boy³¹ led a mule. Eustace beat him. He cut out the boy's tongue out and sent him after the count. And that boy went running to the count to tell him about Eustace the monk, but since he could not speak, he began to babble. The count said, "The devil! What is wrong with you?"

And the boy said, "Boo, boo."

Because his tongue was cut out, he couldn't say any more. The count said to a squire, "This is the one who was leading our mules. He has been in bad hands and he has lost his tongue, at the very least. Eustace has had him in his hand and taken our mule."

The count went after Eustace. He went into the forest of Hardelot, and went through all parts of it. Eustace had two spies, who spied day and night; they never took a rest. Eustace had raised and fostered them, these two boys. The count went chasing Eustace. One of the boys came before him.

"My lord," he said, "How much will I have, if I show you my lord? I am Eustace the Monk's man."

"By my faith," said the count of Boulogne, "If you show him to me, I will strike him well and you will be a gentleman in my court."

"He is seated at dinner. If you follow me, you will take him."

"Go," said the count, "I will follow you. I will go far behind you. But take care that he does not notice. I fear lest he deceive you."

³¹The term "boy" (garchon) could be a male child or a servant, depending on the circumstances.

The other lookout heard the boy and understood the boy's treason, that he had betrayed the lord who had raised him. He went to Eustace and told him that the other one had sold him to the count. Said Eustace, "Leave here. When the boy comes here to deceive and gull me, I will give the wretch the garotte,³² for he deserves it very well."

The one lookout left Eustace and the other lookout came back to him.

Eustace said, "May it please you to cut this branch off for me?"

"Gladly," said the boy.

He cut the branch.

"Turn it well, for I shall make a cord of it!"

He turned the cord, he worked hard at it. And Eustace put the cord around his neck; around his neck he put the garotte.

"Mercy, for the sake of God!" cried the boy, "My lord, why do you want to hang me? At least can you wait until I have confessed?"

Eustace said, "Bad pleasure to you, but look at me here, who knows a lot about it; you have fallen into bad hands. You thought to make me wait until the count could take me. I don't have time to confess you. Go upstairs to talk to God! Climb up into this tree and you will talk to God from closer by. Climb up and then tell me how you sold me to the count."

"My lord," he said, "by St. Remigius! I have sold you and betrayed you. What devils told you about it? There never was a man who could kill you. Go away, you have no need to wait."

³²"the garotte" = "le hart au poivre" or literally "the peppered cord." Why the cord is peppered is unclear.

Eustace said, "After I hang you. Climb up and repent."³³

The boy quickly climbed into the tree and hanged himself with the cord. The count came riding very quickly. Eustace mounted on Moriel again. He saw the count coming after him.

"My lord," he said, "should I stand guard? Take charge of this hanged man for me. I will go with your permission."

³³This can also be read as "Climb up and hang yourself."

The count followed him like a madman. The count and his people chased Eustace fiercely. They caught two of his serjeants and they poked out the eyes of both men. When Eustace heard the news, he swore by the Holy Virgin that for the three eyes³⁴ that the count had poked out, four of his men would lose their feet.

³⁴This seems to be an error in the manuscript, because later on it appears that there were four eyes (as we might expect).

The count went to Saint-Omer; he could not trap Eustace. Eustace began to keep watch to see whether he couldn't find four men whose feet he might cut off in the wood or on the road or on some path. He encountered five serjeants going around; these were the count's serjeants. They were leading two monks to prison. Both of them were from Clairmarais.³⁵ Eustace said to them, "Dismount! You will not continue to lead these two monks away and you will talk to us. If you are sick, you will be worse."

Eustace stopped them and cut all four men's feet off. To the fifth he said, "Go to the count. Tell him from Eustace the Monk that for the four eyes he put out, Eustace has cut off four men's feet."

"My lord," he said, "very willingly!"

He did not leave his trotters behind! He went running to the count and told him now that for the four eyes that the count had put out, Eustace had cut the feet off four men.

"Indeed," said the count, "By His legs! By the bowels of this criminal, of this false monk, who has done me so much shame and dishonor!"

Twenty knights were sent into the forest to spy things out. They went wandering in the forest for a long time. They cost the count dearly.

One day they were in the forest. Eustace the Monk dressed himself in a hair shirt and sackcloth. He went along a path and came upon the twenty knights. He held himself most piteously. He greeted them simply and they responded happily, "Tell us where you come from and where you are going."

³⁵These would seem to be the monks Eustace "borrowed" earlier in the story, when he stole Moriel.

"Seigneurs, right at the moment I am coming from Bologne to the count of Dammartin. ³⁶ I wish to complain about a bad monk. He has stripped me in this region and told me that he had a war against the count in this region. He took 100 marks worth from me. He was very like a beggar and outrageous. He didn't want to give me any of his bread, not in the morning nor for supper. Seigneurs, tell me without delay where I will find the count."

One of them answered, "At Hardrei. Go there; I will lead you."

Eustace went to Hardrei. He came to the count's house and Eustace said,

"Would God were here, who could do me justice against the devil! My lord," said Eustace the Monk, "Where is the count of Boulogne?"

A serjeant said, "Go over there."

Eustace went before the count.

"My lord," he said, "for the sake of God, mercy! I am a townsman from les Andelys. I was coming from Bruges in Flanders, bringing silk hose and a good 30 pounds of money. A drunken idiot (he was tonsured like a priest and he seemed very like a monk---he said he was your enemy) took my gold and silver and squirrel-skin and my grey fur and my horse and my gown. I'm complaining to you about this crazy monk who disrobed me. Do me justice. The place is not far from here."

(Eustace was telling the truth, for he was there; he himself was the one talking to the count.)

"This false monk of stinking ancestry made me wear this sackcloth, and then he had me swear that I would come talk to you. You should know that he is not far from here: I saw him go into a bush."

"What sort of man is he?" the count said. "Is he black or white, big or little?"

Said Eustace,"He is about my size," and the count jumped up at once.

"Now," said the count, "Take me there and I will avenge you upon him."

Eustace said, "Go there now. I will take you there. Now you will take him."

The count followed him with his band of seven men and thirty of Eustace's men followed them. Eustace led the count among his people and entourage. The count wasn't very much at ease. Eustace said, "Have no fear. I want to be reconciled to you. For the sake of God, have mercy, good my lord! My lord, let us talk of peace."

And the count said, "Leave me alone! It is useless for the die is cast. You will never be reconciled to me."

Said Eustace, "Go away, since it cannot be otherwise. You have come under my safe-conduct and you have not been deceived about it."

The count turned back and Eustace turned away.

The count had himself armed one day and had all his folk summoned, for Eustace was said to have gone into a castle. The count went to the castle. Eustace who knew so many tricks began to ponder how he might escape. He at once exchanged his robe of dark brown for the poor tunic of a good man. In conclusion, he left the castle. He met a man along the way who was carrying a big bundle of hay. Eustace bought the hay at once and carried it to the gate. He cried out, "I am selling white fodder."

He had gotten very weak underneath the hay. One eye was closed and the other open. The hay covered him well. The Monk passed by, limping toward the count of Boulogne.

"Goodman," said the count of Boulogne, "tell me whether Eustace the Monk is still inside. I fear he might have escaped me."

Eustace said, "To tell you the truth, he stayed at my house last evening and he left in the morning. Now you can take him as he is going."

The count said, "Mount up! Now you can take him!"

The horses were spurred then. They all moved quickly. And Eustace, that man who knew so many tricks, didn't stay there any longer. He put down the hay and went to the tail of the train. A boy was leading a horse. Eustace seized it and leapt to the saddle-bow. Hearing them, the servant called out about it: "See the Monk leaving!"

When the count of Boulogne heard this, he cried out, "Now after the Monk!"

The Monk soon escaped from them. No one took him nor caught him. The count must have been out of his mind on account of that man who had escaped him.

The count and his people went into Hardelot one day. Eustace, dressed as a pilgrim, went after him on the road. He had ten companions with him. The count dismounted from his horse and Eustace came before him.

"My lord, we are penitents from the pope in Rome. We have done evil to many a man. We repent for the sake of God and in we are in great torment."

The count had them given 3 shillings when he heard them speak thus. The count went into the castle. His horses were left outside. Eustace took all the horses, torched the town and set it on fire. He sent word to the count by a serjeant that the penitent to whom the count had given the three shillings had done this.

"By my faith," said the count, "I'll go crazy, if I don't have this joker, this criminal, this false pilgrim taken! If I wanted to go after him now, I wouldn't have anything to ride on. He knows too cleverly how to do his business. There was never such a diabolic monk! If I can get my hands on him, he won't die very much after!"

One day Eustace went wandering and met a merchant, who was coming from Bruges in Flanders carrying £60. The merchant was from Boulogne. He knew Eustace the Monk very well. He was not very much at ease, for he was afraid for his pennies. Eustace said to him quickly, "Tell me how much money you have."

"My lord," he said, "I'll tell you: I'll never lie to you. I have £60 in a coffer and I have 15 shillings in my purse."

Eustace then quickly turned him around. He soon led him into a thicket and counted his money. He gave it all back to the merchant and said, "Go, commend yourself to God! If you had told me a lie, you wouldn't have taken a penny from here, but you would have lost them all, for you would never have had a penny of it."

And the merchant thanked him for it.

³⁶Dammartin, Count Renaud's original holding. Renaud became the count of Boulogne by repudiating his wife and eloping with Countess Ida of Boulogne (some time around 1190).

Eustace said, "Come, promise me that you will go to the count and that you will take him this palfrey.³⁷ It is the tithe of his horses.³⁸ I have ten fat and handsome ones. Someone came yesterday evening and told me that the count had nothing to ride on, for I had taken all his horses yesterday evening when I left him. Now I want to pay him a tithe. You need to take this horse and also bring him three pennies and this coin-purse, for this is, without a doubt, the tithe of the three good Angevin shillings that he gave to the pilgrims who led away his ten horses and set his town alight."

The merchant swore to him that he would go to the count of Boulogne and that he would bring the count the three pennies and the purse and the palfrey all together.

"Tell him that Eustace sends him the tithe of all his booty."

The merchant took his leave of the monk and left completely happy. He went to the count right away and told him about Eustace the Monk. The count had the merchant seized and held; he believed in an instant that he was Eustace the Monk.

"My lord," the merchant said to him, "I am from right here in Boulogne. Eustace had me swear that I would come talk to you. I came here to fulfill my oath."

The count answered, "I can well believe it."

When the count heard him speak thus, he had him released right away, and without fail, the merchant delivered the horse and the three pennies and the purse into the count's charge.

The count went hunting one day. A lookout came to annnounce to him that Eustace was in the forest, and the count dressed himself and his entire retinue in sackcloth. He went on foot after the lookout. They were lying in ambush in a ditch. Eustace's lookout approached them, for he knew very well that it was the count. The lookout went to Eustace and told him about it. Now Eustace went to do business with a charcoal burner. The charcoal burner had a donkey that carried his charcoal to sell. Eustace, to say no more, dressed in the clothing of the charcoal burner, and put on his black cap and covered his face with soot, blackened his neck and then his hands; he was marvellously tanned. The donkey was loaded up with charcoal. Eustace grabbed a switch and took to the road toward Boulogne. The count didn't care a shallot about him, when he saw him passing, and did not deign to speak to him. And Eustace called out to him, "Seigneur," he said, "What are you doing there?"

The count answered at first, "What's your business, sir peasant?"

Said Eustace, "By St. Omer! I will go to the count to show him that the people of Eustace the Monk do us much shame and dishonor. I do not dare lead my packhorse to carry my charcoal to sell lest Eustace take it from me. Now, he lies much at ease beside a good fire of charcoal and he has enough meat and venison. He has lit all my charcoal that cost me so much to make."

"Is he near here?" said the count.

Eustace said, "He is in here. Follow this path at once if you wish to talk to him."

Eustace hit Romer the donkey with his switch, and the count and his people began to enter the forest. He found the charcoal burner sitting, the one whose clothes Eustace had put on. He was greatly mistreated and beaten for they thought without a lie that he was Eustace the Monk.

"Seigneurs," he said, "have mercy, for God's sake! Why are you beating me thus? You can have this robe, but you should know that I have no possessions. It is the robe of Eustace the Monk, who now rides toward Boulogne; he's leading my donkey and my charcoal. He has tanned his face, his hands, and his nape with soot. He put on my black cap. He made me take off my gown, and made me put on his."

And the count said, "Listen, seigneurs! Now take him if you like. By God's teeth, if that living devil hasn't escaped me so many times! It was the charcoal burner who was going over there, who just spoke to us."

Said the count, "Now! Right away! After him!"

³⁷A palfrey was a good horse for riding in peacetime (as opposed to the destrier, the war horse, which would be ridden only in training or battle).

³⁸Tithes were normally paid only to the church, unless a lay person owned the revenues of a particular church. The tithe was supposed to be the tenth part of one's increase (that is, it was a sort of income tax). So this is a joke. The stolen horses are Eustace's "income."

Their horses were nearby. They mounted, then went hastening after Eustace. Meanwhile, Eustace had washed his face and met a potter. The potter cried, "This way to the pots! This way to the pots!"³⁹

And Eustace was not a fool, for he knew well that he was being chased. He made a quick deal with the potter: in exchange for Eustace's donkey and coals, he got ewers, pots, and vessels. Thus Eustace became a potter. The potter became a charcoal burner. The potter was foolish when he left his calling, for he would never be the master of this one.

Eustace called, "This way to the pots! This way to the pots!"

And the count came out of the wood. The count asked the potter if he had seen a charcoal burner.

"My lord," said Eustace the Monk, "He is going straight to Boulogne. He is leading a donkey with all his charcoals."

The count clapped his spurs [into his horse]. When his serjeants and knights caught up with the charcoal burner, they beat and mistreated him a lot. There they beat him up in an ugly fashion. They bound him hand and foot and bundled him onto a packhorse. His head was near the crupper. The peasant cried and brayed and yelled, "Seigneurs," he said, "I beg you, for the sake of God, to have mercy on me! Tell me why you have taken me and if I have misbehaved in any way toward you, I will amend it willingly."

"Aha, aha, sir poltroon," said the count, "do you think to escape? Soon I will have you hanged."

A knight who knew the potter very well looked at him. And the wise knight, who knew his family origins well, said, "What devil made you a charcoal burner? You used to be a potter. The jack of all trades is the master of none."

"My lord, mercy!" said the goodman, "I gave my pots to the charcoal burner for this donkey and for these coals. May God send him bad luck, since because of him I am thus led away. I think he stole them. So help me God, I didn't steal them; I gave my pots for the donkey. He went quickly toward the wood crying out, ‘This way to the pots, this way to the pots!'"

And the knight said to the count, "Eustace knows a lot about shame! Eustace was a charcoal burner before; now he has become a potter."

"Truly," said the count, "by His wound! Everyone after him as fast as you can! Bring me everyone you meet today and tomorrow. I'll never be done with the Monk if I don't take him in one blow."

³⁹Literally, "To the pots!"

They let the charcoal burner go and returned to the chase. They entered the forest. Eustace threw away his pots. He unloaded them⁴⁰ all in one deal for he had carried them a very long way.

⁴⁰Or "broke them all."

Eustace the tonsured one climbed up into a kite's nest. There he made himself into a nightengale; he truly held the count for a fool. When he saw the count pass by, Eustace began to cry out, "Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!"⁴¹

And the count Renaud answered, "I'll kill him if I can get my hands on him!"

"Strike! strike!" said Eustace the Monk.

"By my faith," said the count of Boulogne, "That I'll do. I'll strike him!"

Eustace was still at ease, so there remained two words for him to cry out.

"He didn't hear it! He did! He didn't hear it! He did!"

When the count of Boulogne heard, "Certainly, he heard it!" said the count of the Boulogne, "He's stolen all my good horses!"

Eustace cried out, "Today, today!"

"You say well," said the count, "it will certainly be today that I'll kill him with my own hands, if I can get him in my clutches."

The count said,"He is never foolish, who believes the advice of a nightingale. The nightingale has taught me well how to take revenge on my enemies, for the nightingale has called to me to strike him and kill him."

⁴¹"Ochis! Ochis! Ochis! Ochis!" This works better in French than in English, for the words sound more like the onomatopoeia used for bird calls.

The the count of Boulogne stirred himself to serve Eustace the monk right.⁴² He arrested four monks; soon they were led to prison. Afterward, he sent four merchants and a pig to prison. He made three chicken-dealers and two donkey-men prisoners there now. He led six fishermen to prison on the spot, along with their fish. And he arrange for four clerics and an archpriest to be in prison. That day there were more than sixty companions in his prison.

The count went to Neufchâtel; there a new trial began. Eustace, who knew so much guile, entered the city behind him, dressed in women's clothes. He looked marvelously like a woman. He was clad in a linen robe and he was well veiled. He had his distaff by his side. Then Eustace the Monk spun. Soon he went up to a serjeant who was holding one of the count's horses. Eustace said, "Let me mount up and I'll let you screw me."

"Very gladly," said the serjeant. "My dear young lady, mount this good palfrey that's waiting here. I'll give you four pennies if you let me screw you. I'll really teach you how to give ass."

The young man lifted up Eustace's foot and Eustace fly with a fart.

"Ha, young lady, you're farting!"

⁴²"Serve Eustace right" = "servir." The word servir describes what a vassal was supposed to do for his lord.

Eustace said, "Don't worry! Dear sweet friend,⁴³ don't trouble yourself. It's this saddle that's creaking."

Eustace the Monk mounted. He and the young man went riding in the forest side by side. Said the young man, "Let's not go any further. I have my lord's horse and you the better palfrey." The young man said, "May I be shamed if this deal is not completely struck. Now let's get down to our business."

"Young man," said Eustace the Monk, "I greatly want to screw. Soon I will screw you. Now come a little farther, so that no one spying shall see us."

"Young lady," said the young man, "take care that this is not a trick. By the bowels of St. Mary, I'll kill you."

Said Eustace, "Dear sweet friend, never could you be so mistaken. My dwelling is ahead here. Now come a little farther again."

The young man foolishly followed him. Eustace came among his people. He seized the young man by the throat. Now the young man could see he was a fool! It's true, what the peasant says about this, that the goat who has a bad bed scratches a lot.

Eustace said, "Dismount from that horse right here! Don't bring it any farther. The palfrey will remain here quite nicely. The count will never mount it."

They both dismounted there. A great laugh went up.

"Seigneurs," said Eustace the Monk, "This young man will carry out his business, for I have a contract with him."

Eustace led him a little further, into a fen.

"Young man," he said, "I won't hurt you. Now take off all your clothes. I know that you will do it willingly."

The young man went into the marsh, for he did not dare to refuse.

Eustace said, "Now for giving ass! You have a great desire to screw. Stick out your ass, or you'll be beaten so you'll never walk again. You thought you would screw me; you should be thoroughly ashamed of yourself for wanting to fuck a black monk!"

The young man said, "Mercy, for God's sake! Don't shame me so greatly here! My lord," he said, "by our Lady, I thought you were a woman!"

⁴³This address was one commonly used in courtly materials by the lovers. Much of the language here parodies the romances.

Eustace said (he was not a heretic, an ass-fucker, nor a sodomite):⁴⁴ "You will leave as you have come. Tell the count on my behalf just how I treated you."

"I will tell it to him right away on your behalf," said the young man.

The young man took to the road at once, but he didn't dare return to the count to deliver his message. He fled to a foreign land.

The war between Eustace the Monk and the count lasted a long time. Eustace did the count great shame.

⁴⁴In the late eleventh century, the Church became increasingly exercized against certain groups in society who had previously been largely ignored. Heretics and male homosexuals were increasingly tried and sometimes executed, while lepers, prostitutes, and Jews all began to be legally segregated from the rest of society (and sometimes physically assaulted). As the comments about Eustace show, these "forbidden" categories of people came to run together as far as the authorities were concerned, and the characteristics assigned to one group were assigned to the others as well. All of these groups were "feminized" (that is, assigned female [and consequently negative] characteristics) and "sexualized" (depicted as emblematic of sexuality or as sexually insatiable). For more on this subject, see R. I. Moore, The Formation of a Persecuting Society (London, 1987).

One day Eustace was at Capella.⁴⁵ He knew the news that the count was searching for him everywhere. He had great trust in a priest. This priest was the guest-master;⁴⁶ he was rich and well-off. The priest betrayed Eustace to the count. Eustace did him great shame. He tied the priest's hands and feet and threw him into a ditch.

⁴⁵St. Mary near Brouckham, founded by Ida, the countess of Boulogne, in the late eleventh century, but known universally as "Capella" or "The Chapel."

⁴⁶A monastic official responsible for looking after guest quarters and the lay guests of the monasteries. In many places this official had a budget of his own, which, of course, offered opportunities for graft.

One day the count of Boulogne came toward Genech⁴⁷ on business. He brought King Philip⁴⁸ with him, who was leading his whole host, and his son, the king Louis,⁴⁹ brought a handsome multitude with him. The king had a handsome company. This night he lay at Capella,⁵⁰ and his host gathered at St. Mary in the Wood,⁵¹ which was near Capella. A handsome company turned in there. Eustace the Monk, who had caused the count so much trouble, was there; he was looking out from behind the wood. There he captured a townsman from Corbey, and did not leave the man any clothes but his tunic. Eustace sent him to the king at Capella. Eustace also sent a knight to follow after the townsman. The king promised to punish Eustace, then he said to the count of Boulogne, "Count, you have heard of Eustace the Monk, who strips and kills my people?"

The count answered, "So help me God, I have not been able to avenge myself on him. That warrior monk is a devil."

⁴⁷Or Gennes-Ivergny.

⁴⁸Philip II "Augustus" of France (1180-1223); Renaud was his ally between about 1202 and 1212, but before and after this, he had been in and out of alliance with the counts of Flanders.

⁴⁹Louis VIII (1223-6).

⁵⁰Between 1209 and 1212, Philip, Renaud, and Louis carried out various coordinated military activities along the Flemish border.

⁵¹Ruisseauville, a community of canons.

Then the king had Eustace chased, but he could never catch him. The king went to Sangatte;⁵² When the king came back from Sangatte, the count was in the rear guard, because the king's people would not stand guard.⁵³ Eustace, who knew so much trickery, was nearby in a town. The count of Boulogne's lookout told him about Eustace the Monk, that in that town he could espy the king's host that was passing by. The count went there, and Eustace, who knew so much magic, was warned by his own lookout. He saw a new pen. A peasant was closing in this pen. Eustace went right over to him. The peasant had an old cape, and Eustace nabbed it immediately. He gave the peasant his good robe, and sent the man to his own lodging. The pen was easy to close and Eustace began then [to work on it]. Eustace took a billhook with which he improved the uprights and the sticks.⁵⁴ He was wearing an old cap. The count came out of a valley and went straight to Eustace, who was busily closing this pen.

"Peasant," said the count of Boulogne, "Is Eustace the Monk in there?"

Eustace said, "I do not know for certain, my lord, and I don't want to tell you a lie. Right now he has gone away from the town; he has run away from the king's host. He fled right up here in great need. He is not far away. You can reach him very well."

And the count began to ride, and Eustace, who was not looking for anything else, placed himself at the tail end of the host. There he took five knights, six palfreys, and five war-horses, for he had a great company that was not far away. They went to hide in the wood. Afterward they sat down to eat. Humphrey, his moral enemy, came upon him at table there. Humphrey had entered the wood to rest, but he thought he would never return. He was terrified and alarmed. Eustace raised him to his feet. Eustace said, "Now dismount and eat with us."

Humphrey dismounted. He was very much afraid and had little trust in Eustace. And when the after-dinner hour came, Humphrey began to beseech Eustace pressingly for mercy. Eustace said, "Get lost! you killed my father and betrayed my first cousin to his death, and you have slandered me to the count. I will not make a long story of it now, but if someone were to give me all of France I wouldn't make peace with you. But because you have eaten with me, from today you need not beware of me. Now you can go off completely acquitted of it, and say to the count on my behalf that just now I was closing the pen when he asked me which way Eustace the Monk had gone, or if he were still inside."

⁵²A fortress along the coast in Guines; this puts the action around 1209 or so, when Renaud and Philip combined forces to attack Count Arnold II of Guines. The real Eustace was by then a pirate and probably did not take part in this expedition (although in 1209 he was the English ambassador to Boulogne). However, when he was Renaud's seneschal in 1203, Eustace did oversee an attack on Guines.

⁵³The rearguard was a danger position, for it could be cut off from the main army. The audience of Eustace would remember that in the Song of Roland, Roland fell defending the rear.

⁵⁴Wood was already scarce in some parts of Europe by the twelfth century. In addition, enclosures were often not permanent structures, but only existed while there were crops in the fields that might be damaged by animals. Thus it was common to make enclosures with wicker.

Humphrey left Eustace and told the count all his words. And the count came back immediately and Eustace went away. Then Eustace decked himself out as a leper. He carried a drinking bowl, crutch, and a clacker.⁵⁵ When he saw the count pass by, he began to clack his clacker. There he got twenty-seven pennies from the count and his knights. When the count had passed by, a boy came in the rear, who was leading a very good warhorse. Eustace knocked him down, leapt to the saddle and went his way. And the boy went to the count.

"My lord, by my faith! A leper has taken one of your horses from me."

"Truly! By His bowels! By His chest! By His legs! That man who was clacking here was the Monk we're chasing! By my faith!" said Count Renaud, "He really seemed like a leper. His fingers were all hooked and his face was ulcerous."

The count had him chased everywhere. Eustace made himself into a cripple. He tied his leg to his buttock, for he knew very well how to walk with a crutch. He bound a ripped up cow's lung to his thigh with a bloody bandage. Eustace went into a monastery. The count was staying there. The priest was singing the mass. The monastery was completely filled with people, of knights and serjeants. Eustace went before the count and told him of his malady. He showed him his leg and his buttock and begged the count to do him some good. The count gave him twelve pennies and Eustace took the pennies. He went straight to the priest, there where the priest was taking the offering. Eustace raised up his thigh and showed the priest his bottom.

"My lord," said Eustace, "see what bad shape I'm in! My thigh is all rotten! For the sake of God and St. Mary, beg these knights to give me some of their pennies to have my thigh cured."

The priest said, "Now I will have the offering go around and then I will speak of it. I will gladly pray for you."

When the offering had gone all around, the priest prayed without hesitation for Eustace the Monk, who had shamed many a man.

"Seigneurs," said the priest, "listen! This poor man you see here has a thigh that is completely rotten. For the sake of God and of St. Mary, the man who does something good for him will do a good deed. He has but one foot and a crutch. For the sake of God, seigneurs, do him some good! I ask you for anything."

⁵⁵From the twelfth century, lepers were considered legally dead. A person who contracted leprosy was stripped of his or her property, which then went to his or her heirs, and required to separate himself or herself from society. In some places, lepers were required to live in leprosaria, but where they were not, they were required to carry a noisemaker to warn others of their approach (leprosy was considered highly contagious). Similarly, they were not to share dishes or utensils with others, for fear of contagion.

⁵⁶That is, they threw the leper alms.

Eustace was not a fool. He got eight shillings there. He retreated from the monastery before the mass had been sung. He had no need to receive the benediction, for he liked war better than peace!⁵⁷ He went to the count's horse and mounted on it. He leaned his crutch in the ditch and the children cried loudly,

⁵⁷The benediction at the end of the mass is "Peace be with you."

"The man with the crutch is taking a horse. See how he is riding through the ditch!"⁵⁸

Then the knights sallied forth; not a single man remained in the monastery. All marveled when they heard about the man with the crutch who had fled on the rich Spanish horse. Word ran quickly around the company.

"Truly," said the count, "By His bowels! That was that disloyal monk, who has done me so much evil and shame! Now he has taken my horse. It will do me no good to follow him for I will never catch up."

Then the count had everyone swear that if they could catch Eustace in a wood, a town, or on a path, they would make him a prisoner.

⁵⁸The ditch here would seem to be part of the fortifications around the monastery, which would consist of an earthwork and a ditch. Eustace seems to be leaning his crutch against the built-up part, but riding through the dug-out part.

The count went back again. The track led him to the blacksmith who had turned the shoes around. However, the smith was to be wretchedly turned around himself. The count had the blacksmith summoned (I think that he wanted to torture him) and commanded him to surrender Eustace the Monk without any trickery. The smith said, "I don't have him here any more, so help me St. Mary!"

The count said, "You will give him to me. It's proven by this track that you brought him here."

The smith said, "My lord, have mercy! Three squires passed this way. They turned their horseshoes around, but I didn't know why they did it. They left here right away. They went along this path, upon which you returned."

Said the count, "By the holy wounds! This Monk is very disloyal! We returned here because he had his horseshoes turned backward.! You, smith who turned the horseshoes backward, you have lost me twenty pounds! Either give me twenty pounds or you will be hanged on high."

The smith promised him twenty pounds as a bond, and delivered a hostage and pledge to the count. The count turned again toward Eustace. He passed the forest of Hardelot. Eustace was sitting down to eat outside a huge abbey. Carpenters were doing carpentry there, for they wanted to built a new monastery. The count passed in front. A serjeant ran to the monastery. Eustace became a carpenter when he saw the serjeant coming near. He hung a hatchet from his neck. He went out of the monastery at once.

"God save you, my lord!" said Eustace, "What manner of men have just passed by?"

The serjeant said, "They are sworn accomplices, who are exiled from their country. They are going to seek a man who knows a lot about war in this region. They have heard people speak about the Monk, who was born near Boulogne. They have asked and inquired a great deal about him. He is very valiant and very strong!"

"Brother," said Eustace the Monk, "You are carrying out business that will never be worth a button to you. He is a crazy drunkard, a glutton. Right now your enemy, the devilish monk, is eating inside this abbey. A bad evil since he came! He has starved us all. Dismount and you will see the one you want to seize in that corner over there. It's the Monk, have no doubt."

⁵⁹That is, Eustace, William, and the page.

⁶⁰This stratagem goes back to ancient times. One of the twelve labors of Hercules was to find the oxen of Geryon, stolen by Cacus. To throw Hercules off the scent, Cacus (a giant) dragged the cattle backward, but the cattle began to low, and Hercules found them anyway.

The serjeant dismounted quickly; after that he said to the monk thus: "Hold my packhorse for me," he said. "There is not such a fine one from here to Monchy,⁶¹ and watch out that he does not strike you, for he kicks up his foot behind."

Said the Monk, "Trust me. He will not strike me if I can help it."

The young man went into the monastery. He found no trace of the Monk. And when he didn't find him, he concluded that he had been tricked. He had gone and wasted his time. Now Eustace mounted. Eustace called out loud, "Carpenters, take your hatchet. I'm leaving. I commend you to God."

"By God's teeth," said the serjeant, "Get off my horse! Bring him back to me!"

"I won't do it since the horse is so good. The count will not take me today, because I will lead this good horse away."

Eustace said, "My lord vassal, you will go back on foot. Tell the count on my behalf that he would have been well treated and fed if he had dismounted here."

Eustace went into the forest and the other one went off on foot all tormented and desolate. This day had turned out badly for him! He frequently fell in the snow and he was dying of thirst and hunger and he went in such agitation that his teeth chattered like a hammer. The count was sitting down to eat; then he saw his squire all soiled with mud on his pants.

Said the count, "You've had good luck! You have followed me by an hour. Have you met the monk?"

The tortured man could not say a word.

The count began to speak to him again. "Answer, you Devil," said the count. "Do you have a bad taste in your mouth?"

"My lord," the squire said to him, "The Monk is a good knight, for he often takes from your people. He teaches you your paternoster very well. He has put me off my packhorse. My body was at risk."

"Truly!" said the count. "By His legs! By His chest! By His bowels! By His throat! How he tricks everyone. By His legs! It doesn't go well for seigneur or serjeant where he appears."

⁶¹Moncy-au-Bois, Monchy-Cayeux, or Monchy-le-Preux, all in the Pas-de-Calais.

Eustace was in the forest. The count came straight to that place. Eustace was mounted on Moriel, but the saddle wasn't well cinched up. The count followed Eustace like a madman. Now Eustace would truly be caught. Eustace spurred Moriel. Moriel jumped and the saddle turned. Eustace fell and the count took him. Eustace defended himself vigorously. He threw his shield in front. He attacked with both hands. And Sir Eustace struck the count, whom he had willingly shamed. One pulled, the other tugged, you've never seen such a torment as the count took from Eustace, for Eustace knew how to defend himself. Eustace was taken and kept. Then he was well guarded and held. They bound his hands and feet. He was stowed on a packhorse. The count wanted to hang him right away, but some of Eustace's men were there. Before the cuckoo⁶² could fly away, he would have to be killed or hanged.

"My lords," said the count of Boulogne, "I have taken Eustace the Monk. Now advise me on what I should do. I will act according to your counsel. Do you advise me to hang him, or to send him to the king of France?"

William of Mont Cavrel said, "It would not be nice for us. He is our relative and our friend. You have been too much his enemy."

Said the count, "I will hang him now. Now I will take vengeance on that man who steals from me. Or I will send him to the king, for I will not let him go for any man, and the king will have him hanged or drowned. He will be tormented."

Said William, "Good sweet my lord, restrain your anger a little bit. Give us the monk on our guarantee, upon whatever we hold of you."

"By God's bowels, I won't do it!" said the count, "Not before I've destroyed him."

And Anselm of Cayeux said, "My lord, restrain your anger again. It would harm his friends too much if you were to decide to destroy him."

"My lord," said Hugh of Bellignies, "Do you want to destroy yourself in the end?"

"Yes! By St. Peter in Rome! Never will he trick any man again," said the count. "He has done too much evil. This monk is too disloyal."

Wales of Capella answered, "He will not die today, by His skull! You are too evil a man, my lord count; you will not do yourself any good in this manner. Eustace acted as a man of war; you took away his land. Now you will lead him to judgment or you will hold it no longer. If you hang the Monk, you will have too many enemies. And if you do him anything but good, there will be drawn swords."

"My lord," said Baldwin of Aire, "hear me a little bit concerning this business. Send him to Paris to the king. Let him be judged by right and by law."

The count said, "He will escape the man who lets him live a day."

"Have him so well bound that he cannot escape justice."

The count said, "I will send him to the king; thus will I deliver myself of him."

Some people said, "I will recompense you for him."

⁶²The European cuckoo lays its eggs in other bird's nests. The fledglings hatch before those of the host birds, and the young cuckoo destroys the other eggs. The hosts then raise the young cuckoo. As a result of this behavior, the cuckoo in Europe is a symbol of cuckoldry (the word itself comes from "cuckoo" and in general of dishonesty.

The count sent him to Hardrei and when it began to grow dark, the count ordered a carter to take Eustace to the king. The carter pledged his faith that he would take him to the king of France; thus no one would know about it. Hugh of Guigny⁶³ mounted up; his band of thirty men was all armed with iron. These were supposed to lead him to the king, but they wanted to help Eustace rather than harm him. Eustace was put in the cart. They took to the road by night. His friends put on mourning garb. They passed Montrueil-sur-mer. Hugh of Guigny warned them that they should be prepared to help Eustace the Monk, for they could rescue him below Beaurains. William of Fiennes armed himself. He and his band of thirty went to Beaurains; they rescued Eustace the Monk in spite of the count of Boulogne. The Monk passed beyond the Canche river.⁶⁴ He had no desire to go to France.⁶⁵ When the count heard word he had made his escape.

The abbot of Jumièges came. Eustace looked at him and saw him. "Sir abbot," he said, "there you are! What are you carrying. Don't rush away!"

The abbot said, "What's it to you?"

Eustace could scarcely refrain from striking him.

⁶³Or Guines.

⁶⁴The Canche was the border between Boulogne and Montreuil.

⁶⁵Although we call all of the country ruled by the king of France "France," in the Middle Ages this term could simply mean the region around Paris. French writers therefore sometimes talk about "going into France," meaning approaching Paris.

"It's my business, my lord prick!⁶⁶ By my head, I'll get some of it. Dismount right away! Don't say another thing, or else you will be so badly beaten that you wouldn't want it for £100!"

⁶⁶Technically, "couillart" means testicle, but modern abuse in English refers to another portion of that set of organs.

The abbot thought that he was drunk. He spoke to him very lightly.⁶⁷ He said to Eustace, "Go away. There is nothing here that you seek."

Eustace said, "Don't lie to me. Dismount right this minute or it will go badly for you!"

The abbot dismounted; he was very much afraid. And Eustace asked him how much money he was carrying with him.

The abbot said, "Truly, four marks. I have four silver marks with me."

Eustace counted it at once. He found thirty marks or more. He returned the four marks to the abbot, as many as the abbot had said he had. The abbot was rightly punished; if the abbot had spoken the truth, he would have gotten back all his money. The abbot lost his money only because he lied.

One day the count was at Boulogne. Eustace the Monk came there and went into Boulogne. He had bought mackerels and sold them to the count's serjeants. To collect his payment and account, Eustace went to eat at the court, but he couldn't have a penny. He demanded his payment, but he couldn't get a drop of silver. Instead, the serjeants gave him a date when they would pay. Eustace left then. The count was getting dressed to go out and had his horses saddled. Eustace went to the horses and seized four of the most handsome. He pretended to guide them to the water. He had three boys go with him to guide the horses there and he led them out of Boulogne. Eustace heard the serjeants. He had the children, who were leading the four horses, dismount and the children went back to Boulogne. Eustace sent word by a serjeant he met to the count that he had seized four horses as payment for the mackerels. The serjeant went running to the count and told him all about Eustace the Monk, who had sold forty mackerels, indeed more.

"He has taken four good horses for the payment, it seems to me, and he has eaten at your court."

"By God's feet! He drives too hard a bargain! I will shorten his life, by the bowels of St. Mary!"

⁶⁷The manuscript is faulty here and the editor has had to reconstruct the lines.

The count began to chase him, but he could never catch him. Eustace became a pastry-chef, a knife-sharpener,⁶⁸ and a cake-seller.

The count was at Calais one day. Eustace, who knew so much about evil and guile, came there at a quick gallop, He had a great and full fire laid in an inn outside the town. He had a squire with him. He made waffles and new pies and good and handsome crêpes. The pies he had stuffed with tow, peas and wax. Eustace had them stuffed very well and with great mastery. The count was seated at table, and Eustace took up his trade and brought it before the count. He came to the count, and told him that a young man, who held a tenement of him, had made him a present, that the young man was to plead before the count and would come to eat with him. Inside they accepted the present; every one of them would hold himself to have been deceived. Eustace wrote a letter and put it in one of the pies. In truth, it explained the whole joke.

Eustace took his leave of the count, and when the food was eaten, they at once carried the present before the count. The pies were carried in there. The man who presented them there, a knight, took one of them. He was the count's constable and his very close friend. He took a big bite of a tart; then he couldn't open his trap or get his teeth to come out again. When he had been unstuck, he said to his companion,

"Taste. You have never tasted or eaten pies like this in your life."

Then the other one took a tart. He had large teeth so he bit in strongly, and he couldn't get his teeth out. He began to sweat with pain, and when he could detach himself he began to swear loudly, "By God's teeth, I'll be damned! I've bitten into the devil, that's my opinion."

All those who bit into these pies were badly tricked! There wasn't a single person who would have bitten into one if he could have had a taste of it before. In one of the pies they found the letter that told them that Eustace the Monk had done this.

"By my faith," said the count of Boulogne, "This monk is very disloyal; he has led me down the garden path. May he go to the devil, this man who has not been taken or caught!"

⁶⁸Or perhaps a maker of crêpes.

Eustace went to England. He begged the mercy of King John.⁶⁹ Dressed as a hospitaller,⁷⁰ he went to bow down at the king's feet. The king asked him why he had bowed down before him.

Eustace said, "My lord, have mercy!"

Said the king, "Get up from here. Since you are a hospitaller, you will willingly have mercy."

Said Eustace, "Hear my business. Eustace the Monk sends to you and asking mercy begs you to keep him in your household."

The king answered without hesitation, "He will be retained, if he wishes to swear that he will serve me in good faith and never fail me. I will want to have hostages from him."

Said Eustace, "My lord, you will have my daughter as a pledge, if you please, or my wife, if you wish."

Said the king, "Are you the monk of whom you speak?"

"Yes, my lord, my name is Eustace."

⁶⁹King John (1199-1216).

⁷⁰The Hospitallers were the first of the military monastic orders, as they actually predated the first crusade. They originally escorted Christian pilgrims to Jerusalem and kept the hospital of St. Mary and St. John of Jerusalem (hence their name). The order expanded very quickly in the twelfth century and managed to preserve their reputation in the thirteenth. The Knights of Malta are descended from this order.

And the king said, "By St. Edmund,⁷¹ who is a righteous lord to me! I will retain you willingly. How welcome you are!"

Eustace was thus retained and the king gave him galleys.

⁷¹Edmund, king and martyr, was captured by Vikings in battle in 869 and refused to deny Christianity. His cult dates from the tenth century and he was a very important English saint. It may be significant that French soldiers, although defeated in an attempted conquest of England, claimed to have removed his body from Bury and taken it France in 1217.

Eustace went to sea. Eustace had thirty galleys. He came to the Channel Isles.⁷² The people of these islands were armed. They assembled together, led by a castellan. When he saw this fleet arrive, he said to his people, "Now wait until they have arrived. When we see them on land, then we will discomfit them."

When Eustace arrived, he left the ship first of all and his companions sallied forth after him; then the people of these islands assaulted them. Eustace went to the castellan, who came in front, first of all. The castellan, who would regret it, led his entire company among the masts.

⁷²Jersey, Guernsey, and Sark which although English, were French-speaking in the Middle Ages (and people are still bilingual there); they lie off the coast of France. The historical Eustace had a base on Sark.

"Godehiere [God be here]"⁷³ cried Romerel.

⁷³The poet from time to time gives rather mangled versions of English.

Eustace cried, "Winchelsea!"⁷⁴

They gave each other great blows and were very badly battered, for the one strongly attacked and the other knew well how to defend. Then there began a great, harsh and long melée. Eustace held a great ax, with which he made great strokes in that place. He split many a helm and broke the shoulder of many a warhorse. He struck to the right, then to the left. He made himself the lord and master of the fleet.

Eustace said, "Now hit two of them! Soon you will see them flee."

There was a great and fierce battle; that day many a corpse was made. Eustace threw them out of that place and assailed all the isles, so that there remained nothing to burn, neither in the castle nor in the manor.

One day the flood tide came in. Eustace was at Harfleur, there where the Seine flows into the sea. He had his galleys at anchor. He got into a boat, along with his band of thirty men friends. He began to row up the Seine. They reached the shore without delay. They came to Pont-Audemar. He went only the bridge. Eustace was wearing a habit. Before him he saw Cadoc, the seneschal of Normandy. Cadoc had three hundred serjeants in his company to guard the ports of the Seine so that the Monk could not pass there. Eustace called to a barber and had himself shaved on the bridge.

Eustace said, "What will you do if you catch up with the Monk?"

Cadoc said to him, "I will have him brought to the king of France, who will have him crucified or hanged or burned or drowned."

⁷⁴The port from which Eustace had sailed. This is his war cry.

Eustace said, "By St. Winnoc!⁷⁵ If you give me your cloak, I will quickly lead you to him, and then I will show him to you."

Cadoc replied, "You will have my cloak, if you turn the Monk over to me."

Eustace said, "You will see him. Take off your cloak. Give it here."

⁷⁵Originally Welsh, Winnoc (d. c. 717) became a monk in Saint-Bertin in Saint-Omer, then founded his own monastery near Dunkirk. His body was taken to the monastery of St. Winnoc at Bergues c. 900. Perhaps swearing by St. Winnoc was to convince Cadoc that Eustace was Flemish.

Cadoc, who would soon have no cloak, gave Eustace his cloak. It was a furry cape of grey squirrel-skin,⁷⁶ and Eustace put it on. And Eustace said, "Now mount up! He is near here in these meadows."

Cadoc and his band of thirty mounted up. Eustace himself led them to the meadows by Pont-Audemar. He would irritate the seneschal soon! There was a reaper in the field; he was reaping part of the meadow.

Eustace said, "By St. Winnoc! If this reaper escapes you, you will never take the Monk!"

Cadoc went there, he and his company riding hard. They found a large bog and they all fell in. Each of them got enmired in an ugly fashion. The horses were in it up their chests. And meanwhile Eustace went to Cadoc, and greeted him, "My lord, what are you doing there?"

"In truth!" said Cadoc, "By his guts! God send you bad luck, for you led us this way! You have evilly tricked up."

Eustace laughed abundantly from his cowl at Cadoc. Cadoc was very much deceived when he fell into the bog! Fifteen of his men were enmired, and they swore like heretics, and their companions in the same way.

⁷⁶Although we don't get excited by squirrel-skin, it was highly regarded in the Middle Ages and was one of the two armorial furs (the other was ermine). Cinderella was actually wearing squirrel-skin (vair) slippers not glass (ver) ones, when she went to the ball.

Eustace said, "By St. Remigius!⁷⁷ You'll never get out of this marsh unless you take my advice."

And Cadoc cried out loud, "You son of a whore! You evil camp-follower! You've gotten us into a tight spot! You will have a bad day tomorrow! You will have if I get my hands on you!"

Eustace said, "I'm not afraid of you since you are in the bog. You can stay there until Easter. If you don't take my advice, you'll never get out of the bog. You should hold each other's hands. Get to your feet on your saddles. If you know how to jump with your feet together, you will have lightened your horses and you will be more free. Believe me, do it now."

They believed Eustace's advice. Each one climbed up on his saddle, and they held each other by the hands, and Cadoc jumped first of all. He fell in the bog up to his rear end. The others stayed on the saddles, but he jumped into the bog up to his belt. Eustace was not sorry about it; he almost fainted from laughter.

Eustace said, "You are taken! You will never escape from if if you are not thrown a rope."

"Truly," said Cadoc, "By His legs! By His chest! By His bowels! By the teeth of God, how I am shamed!"

Eustace called out loud; he loudly called the reaper, who came quickly. He jumped into the bog near Cadoc. He jumped in to help Cadoc, but he sank up to his belt there.

Eustace said, "Now there are more!"

Cadoc concluded without hesitation that the reaper was Eustace the Monk. He now attacked the reaper who had jumped in. He struck him near his ear with his fist. The reaper was very surprised, for his whole ear tingled. Cadoc struck him again in the eye. And the reaper thought that Cadoc was drunk, for he strongly resisted being rescued. The reaper had fallen into bad hands. He was badly mistreated and beaten.

And Eustace called out to Cadoc, "Let him be! Let there be no more blows! He has left his scythe and come to your aid. Now is the time to repay his good deed, but you do him shame and harm. My name is Eustace the Monk, and I have put you in this trap. You will not be able to get to your feet today, and I'm going toward the sea. You have given me your cloak, and badly have I repaid you for it! I had myself shaved in front of you. Now I will make you into a fisherman! Now you should not be a miser or a joker! Stamp around in this shit a lot, for there are eels enough here. But you are very tired, for you have taken such big fish that you can't pull them out."

Cadoc said, "If I were out of this, your death would be near! Never again would any man be swindered nor tricked by you."

Eustace said, "Those who are threatened may still live a long time! They can defend themselves for a long time!"

Eustace left that place and went back to his boat. Cadoc called so much toward the bridge at Pont-Audemar that they came to rescue him from the place where Eustace had made him a fisherman. When Cadoc had been taken out of that place, he armed three hundred serjeants. They want riding to Boulogne. He sent a hundred ahead. He really thought to take Eustace, but Eustace, without waiting any longer, put himself into the waves' protection.

Eustace went to Barfleur. He had thirty marks from piracy in the isles and in other places. He came to Barfleur. He received thirty payments. Cadoc began to follow him, but he couldn't catch him. He followed Eustace and the ship. Eustace turned back and took five ships from him. Cadoc didn't want to follow him any more. Cadoc retreated, for the sea was too harsh to him. Eustace raised his sail. At Courseulles he engaged a good rich ship that sailed sweetly before him. Eustace jumped into the ship. He attacked those on board. Eustace then dealt with them and attacked them so hard that he got two hundred marks; whereupon they held themselves for lost.

Eustace, who had done much evil here on earth, went to England. He went straight to King John and appealed to him at once.

"My lord," he said, "I wish to ask a piece of your land."

And the king said, "You shall have it. And take it where you wish. I will give you a palace in London, which is very rich and well constructed."

⁷⁷Remigius converted the first Frankish king, in the late fifth century. His cult was celebrated at Reims (and many other places).

Eustace thanked him, and he not been there a long time when he had the palace demolished. He set more than four workers at the task. He razed the the building, which had cost a thousand silver marks before it fell to the ground. When the king came there, he said that the man who had committed this outrage was rabid in his heart. He lent him four hundred marks to do all that he wished. Eustace completed the palace, which was very rich and well constructed.⁷⁸

⁷⁸This passage doesn't seem to make a lot of sense, and I may not have translated it correctly.

The Monk was in England. The count of Boulogne came there. He had parted badly from the king of France⁷⁹ and he came quickly to King John. The Monk turned to go away when he saw Renaud of Boulogne. The king [of France] had guarded the sea so that the Monk could not pass over it. Eustace, who knew tricks, took a bow and a viele. He returned as a minstrel and put on a minstrel's tunic. He had a hat with striped bands of embroidery and a leafy staff. He went to the beach and saw a merchant getting settled. They all got on the ship, and Eustace, who had such great forethought, remained. He put his feet together and jumped in.

Said the pilot, "Sir minstrel, you'll get out, so help me God."

Eustace said to him, "In truth, when we are there! Now I do not hold you for a wise man. I will give you five pieces of sterling or my viele for my passage."

"What tall tales are are you telling now?"

"I am a jongleur and a minstrel. You will hardly find another like me. I know all the songs. For God's sake, good my lord, let us pass! I come from Northumberland. I've been in Ireland for five years. I have drunk so much good ale that now I have a pale and ashen face. Now I'm going back to drink wine at Argenteuil or Provins."

"What's your name, without lying?"

⁷⁹This puts these events in 1212, when Renaud and John entered into an alliance. Eustace was actually one of the witnesses in the charter that records the agreement. See Conlan, Witasse, 111.

"My lord, I'm called Malferas,⁸⁰ an Englishman from Ganstead. Ya, ya, God it wot! [Yes, yes, God knows it]"

Said the pilot, "You are English? I thought that you were French. Do you know any songs?"

⁸⁰Mal=evil; feras=ferant=doing.

"Yes, of Agoulland and Aimon; I know the whole of Blanchandin, and I know of Florence of Rome.⁸¹ There is not a song in the world that I have not heard or made a note of or played. I would divert you well, but I would not sing for anything, for this sea greatly frightens me and I wouldn't be able to put my mind to anything that would be worth a damn."

⁸¹The Romance of Agouland and the Romance of the Four Sons of Aimon, Blancandin and Florence of Rome have all survived.

No one asked him anything more; thus the Monk carried out his business. At vespers, he arrived a Boulogne. Then he turned away suddenly like a boy running on foot. He carried a big box with him. He hid a letter inside it. He came to the king and showed it to him. The king looked at the letter and saw that the Monk had come to France and sent him greeting, that he had been punished by King John, and had never been compensated there for his daughter, whom the king had killed and burned and disfigured.⁸² And that the count of Boulogne was there. And that for this reason Eustace the Monk had come. And that he did not want to betray the king, but to serve him well.

Said the king, "If he is on this side of the water, have him talk to me, and he can come and go under safe-conduct; he can come here very easily, for he need not take care in coming this far."

Eustace said, "You see me right here!"

⁸²There is no evidence that John had Eustace's daughter executed. In fact, in 1215 John sent a letter to the abbess of Wilton asking her to release Eustace's daughter (Conlon, Witasse, 113). However, as she was a private hostage, and not a state hostage, John would have been legally justified in having her put to death.

"Are you he?" the king said to him. "There stands a mighty small Frenchman. You are not big, in fact, you're small. Yet you are so bold and strong. You know guile and trickery; you have no need of catgut.⁸³ You will never serve me unless you live a good life."

⁸³A translation problem. "Sains de cat" is literally "cat's fat" or perhaps "catgut" (a reference to his trade as a minstrel?). However, the Larousse Dictionnaire de l'ancien français, 93 defines "cat" as chicanery. So maybe the meaning is more like "You know guile and trickery, but you have no need of chicanery."

Said Eustace, "By St. Simon!⁸⁴ I will never do anything but good again."

⁸⁴Simon (the apostle) was often depicted with a boat, perhaps why Eustace swears by him here.

The Monk was a good warrior. He was very strong and fierce. H did much deviltry in the islands and other places. The king had Louis pass over the see with a great fleet.⁸⁵ He commanded the ship of Boulogne⁸⁶ with his own body and in person. The king took it with him to Damme. The king lost his ships that year!⁸⁷ Eustace was accused of having betrayed his ships. Eustace absconded, for there was no man bold enough to dare support him, and thus they let matters be.

⁸⁵The plan was for Louis to conquer England from John, who had been excommunicated in 1205. However, John made his peace with the pope in 1213. Philip still planned to attack John, but to protect himself from John's ally, Count Ferrand of Flanders, Philip attacked Flanders by sea.

⁸⁶A very large fortified ship, according to Conlon, Witasse, 117, l. 2256.

⁸⁷A fleet sent by King John to aid Count Ferrand caught the French fleet napping and inflicted major damage on it.

Another time he went to cross over the sea with the great fleet.⁸⁸ Robert de Courtenai⁸⁹ was with him; and so was the young man from Montacute.⁹⁰ Eustace, who was so brave and noble, came to the high sea. More than twenty ships passed before him,⁹¹ and he attacked them with great fires and balistas,⁹² for they had put them in their smaller boats. They defended themselves by throwing things and with lances and shooting with arrows. The French killed a lot of the English. They defended themselves like warriors. Eustace fought hard with an oar he held.⁹³ He broke arms and legs. He killed this one and threw another down; he attacked another, and struck down a second, and crushed the third's throat, but they attacked him on all sides. The English worked hard at it and struck with great axes in the battle, but the French defended themselves so well that the English couldn't get on the ship. Then the English began to throw quicklime in great pots, that they hurled over the sides. The powder rose up in a big cloud. That was something that hurt them more; they couldn't defend themselves any longer, for their eyes were full of cinders. They were in the face of the wind, which tormented them.

⁸⁸In 1216, Louis invaded England, taking advantage of a civil war between King John and his barons. Eustace was in command of the fleet. When John died later in the year, Louis held a good portion of English territory, including London. John was succeeded by his son Henry, who was still a child. Louis's expedition, however, was condemned by the Church and King Philip was in the process of washing his hands of it. Louis was unable to keep his forces coordinated, while the opposition began to consolidate. Louis's troops were routed at Lincoln and his side suffered further desertions. Eustace then back to France to bring Louis reinforcements. His fleet had seven large ships and seventy smaller boats carrying supplies (see M. Powicke, The Thirteenth Century, 13).

⁸⁹The text says Robert de Tornelle, but Robert de Courtenai commanded the fleet. He was related to Louis.

⁹⁰or Montaigu or Montigny.

⁹¹The French fleet was caught by an English fleet off Sandwich, which sailed upwind of them.

⁹²A sort of sling-shot with which one could fling stones. At sea, these stones could be shot into the sails of opposing vessels, causing them to capsize.

⁹³The historical evidence reports that Eustace was captured below-decks.

Eustace jumped up in the ship and fought them very hard. All the barons were taken and Eustace the Monk was killed. He had his head cut off. Thus the melée came to an end.⁹⁴

No one can live for a long time who has bad intentions all his days.

⁹⁴Peace was subsequently made. Louis did penance, the English paid him to go away, and most of the rebels were punished relatively lightly.