The chronicles and histories of late medieval Florence are replete with acts of violence committed by the traditional warrior elite. While scholars have identified a whole host of economic, social, and political factors that served as catalysts of this violence,1 recent scholarship by historians of chivalry has stressed the important role played by chivalric ideology in valorizing violence committed by traditional elites in defense of their honor and autonomy.2 And yet, the ideas and ideals that comprised Florentine chivalry, like iterations elsewhere in Italy and Europe, were often in tension with one another. Effusive praise of prowess and violence was met with the quiet approval of restraint and mercy and the honorable treatment of noble and knightly enemies. These âreform virtues,â which already existed within the general European constellation of chivalry under the loose umbrella of âcourtesy,â were promoted by individuals both within and outside of chivalric circles in late medieval Florence and Tuscany. These reformers shared similar concerns about the deleterious consequences of uncontrolled chivalric violence and responded by offering various reform themes. One such theme involved the reconceptualization of treason as synonymous with dishonorable conduct in armed conflict between individual knights.3
Indeed, subtle reform currents circulated within chivalric circles, primarily through the medium of imaginative literature, especially the large corpus of very popular chivalric romances composed and consumed in Tuscany in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.4 Given the nature of the extant historical sources for this period of Florentine and Tuscan history, however, it is difficult to establish with certainty which knights read, listened, and even tried their hand at writing romances. These sources also offer little insight into whether the ideas and ideals embedded in these texts had an appreciable impact on the mental framework and behavior of historical knights. This lack of insight into the intellectual and cultural milieu of the Florentine warrior elite can be explained by the sociocultural origin of most contemporary chroniclers, who belonged to a different and antagonistic cultural community, that of the Popolo.5 These popolani authors were not only largely ignorant of the intricacies of Florentine chivalry, but, as intellectual representatives and proponents of a popularly-supported Florentine government underpinned by a nascent civic ideology that was in many ways antithetical to chivalry, their works were often overtly hostile toward this group.
As a result of the limitations of traditional historical sources in the Florentine context, scholars must rely more heavily on the suggestive body of evidence provided by romances. Constance Bouchard and Richard Kaeuper have both argued for the validity and necessity of using imaginative literature to understand chivalry in the general European context, and this holds true for Florence and Tuscany.6 Moreover, the recent scholarship of Martin Aurell strongly suggests that many Florentine and Tuscan knights read and listened to literary works. In fact, Aurell notes that literacy among the warrior elite in Communal Italy was perhaps the highest in Europe, pointing out that the spatial arrangement of elite households were designed to enhance the experience of listening to literature read aloud.7 Aurellâs work complements the more general scholarship of Robert Black for late medieval and Renaissance Florence and Tuscany, painting a picture of literate or semi-literate knights who would have been more than capable of understanding, possibly even fully reading and writing, works of imaginative literature.8
Florentine knights who read or listened to these literary works were exposed to contradictory currents of thought: the most obvious is a veritable deluge of praise for violence committed in the defense or assertion of honor, but also present are more subtle reform messages intended to temper the violent excesses of the warrior elite. One of these reform messages connected dishonorable conduct with treason. Treason and its associated terms (betrayal, treachery, etc.) were traditionally associated with the public sphere and disloyalty to a lord or sovereign government,9 but this particular current of reform sought to redefine treason in a private context as a betrayal of chivalry itself and, by extension, an abnegation of membership in the knightly order.10 In these romances, the betrayal takes place when a knight engages in conduct that violates the normative ideals of chivalry, especially behaviors falling under the banner of courtesy, in order to successfully defend or assert his honor, thus turning an enterprise that is generally seen as positive and identity affirming into something dishonorable. Therefore, the goal of this current of reform was not to delegitimize knightly violence committed in the defense or assertion of honor, an idea that would have found little purchase among historical knights, but rather to limit the excesses of this type of violence by ensuring that knights conducted themselves in an honorable manner, one that allowed the prowess and valor of each knight to decide the victor.
This reform message was delivered to historical knights primarily through the use of exempla, specifically of literary knights who are condemned for their dishonorable conduct. Most of these offending knights reform their behavior after several rounds of castigation by fellow knights, which include accusations of treason. These reformed knights see their honor restored and their membership in the knightly order reaffirmed. These works also double down on this reform message by offering several exempla of traitorous knights who refuse or fail to be reformed and, thus, end their lives excluded from the chivalric community and with their honor destroyed by the indelible stain of shame. The ignominious fate of these unreformed knights was a powerful warning to historical warriors of the consequences of persisting in dishonorable and treasonous conduct.
Rustichello da Pisaâs Romanzo Arturiano, a French redaction of a compilation of popular Arthurian material completed in Pisa (c. 1270â1274),11 circulated widely in Tuscany and Italy,12 appealing as it did to the ânovellistic taste of municipal Italy of the late thirteenth century,â and provided much of the material for later âItalianâ Tristan romances.13 The militaristic nature of the episodes in this work suggests that the romance would have attracted the attention of the warrior elite both in the courts of northern Italy as well as in the cities and countryside of Tuscany.14 Thus, this romance would have introduced many historical knights to this reform message, primarily through the use of exempla.
When Tristan decides to spend the night at a castle whose owner is the father of a man Tristan had killed honorably in battle some time before, his identity is discovered and the lord of the castle orders twelve men to take Tristan into custody (312 [57.4]). The men arrive, fully armed, at Tristanâs room and take him prisoner while he is unarmed and in bed:
Allora il valvassore fece armare ben dodici uomini, e ordinò loro di recarsi subito nella camera dove era alloggiato Tristano, di catturarlo e di metterlo in prigione. Quelli subito vi si recarono, e trovarono Tristano in camicia e brache. Non potendosi difendere, così svestito e senza armi comâera, fu catturato con facilità .
[And then the vassal armed well twelve men, and ordered them to go to the room where Tristan was lodged, and to capture and put him in prison. They immediately went there and found Tristan in nightshirt and hose. Not being able to defend himself, as he was so dressed and without arms, he was easily captured]. (312 [57.11â14])
Making matters worse, the lord of the castle intends to execute Tristan (312 [58.16]), calling him a malvagio traditore [wicked traitor] and accusing him of killing his son in a in modo così sleale [very disloyal manner] (312 [58.22â23]). Tristan, of course, vehemently denies that he killed the lordâs son through dishonorable means or, in fact, that he could ever conduct himself in a disloyal and treacherous manner: âo non mi sono mai comportato da sleale e traditoreâ [I have never behaved like a disloyal [knight] and traitor] (312 [59.1]). Thus, both the lordâs accusation and Tristanâs denial clearly establish the connection between dishonorable conduct and treason.
This connection is reinforced when Tristan laments that he cannot prove his innocence by means of his prowess and valor, a right belonging to any loyal and honorable knight, but one violated by the dishonorable and treacherous conduct of the lord of the castle:
Tristano, vedendosi in quel luogo, dove a nulla gli valevano la prodezza e la forza delle armi, e considerando la grande sfortuna che gli era capitata, divenne furente e disperato, lamentando e piagendo la precoce fine delle sue imprese di cavaliere. âOh, signor Lancillotto!â esclamò, âvoi non sapete la mia disgrazia, altrimenti mi liberereste da una morte così vergognosa per me, che non sono in grado di difendermi!â
[Tristan, seeing himself in that place, where prowess and force of arms were worth nothing, and considering the great misfortune that he had happened to him, he became furious and desperate, crying and lamenting the premature end of his knightly enterprise. âOh, Sir Lancelot!,â he exclaimed, âyou donât know my disgrace, otherwise you would liberate me from a death so shameful for me, that I am not capable of defending myself!â]. (312 [58.19â21]; my italics)
Indeed, when the decision is announced that he is to be beheaded, Tristan loudly bemoans that he is unable to die a valorous, honorable death because of the dishonorable actions of the treacherous lord: âE invero abbiate pietà di un uomo a cui dispiace molto di più di non aver potuto mostrare il suo valore, ora che è giunto così presto alla fine, che della sua morteâ [And verily have pity on a man who is very sorry to not have been able to show his worth, now that he has arrived at the end, that of his death] (312 [59.9]).
Fortunately for Tristan, Palamedes arrives at the castle in time to stop his execution. The arrival of Palamedes also buttresses the thrust of the reform theme, as Palamedes and Tristan were frequent adversaries and only occasional allies. Indeed, Palamedes initially hesitates before saving Tristan, as he seems to recognize that Tristanâs impending execution represents an opportunity to eliminate his greatest competitor on the field of honor. Tristan convinces Palamedes to rescue him by making it clear that, should Palamedes let him die in such a shameful and villainous manner, Palamedes would suffer great dishonor: ââPalamides, come puoi essere così malvagio da permettere che davanti a te stia per essere messo a morte il miglior cavaliere del mondo? Ne avrai certamente eterna vergogna, una volta che tutti sapranno che hai assistito a questo, e che non hai fatto niente per liberare il cavaliere!ââ [âPalamides, how can you be so contemptible as to allow the best knight in the world who is before you to be put to death? You will certainly have eternal shame, as soon as all know that you have assisted in this, and that you have done nothing to free the knight!â] (312 (60.33ÂÂâ34). Thus, Tristanâs powerful rebuke helps Palamedes see the error of his initial desire to allow Tristan to be killed through dishonorable means. In addition to avoiding the dishonor earned by standing by as Tristan dies in a shameful manner, Palamedes also wins great honor by freeing his erstwhile enemy through his prowess (312 [60.41â44]). In other words, in this scene, Rustichello promotes a reform message encouraging historical knights to recognize that vengeance or victory won through ignoble means is actually a source of dishonor and that by choosing not to exploit an opponent, even a mortal enemy, who is at a disadvantage, in turn earns a knight great honor.
While most of the knights in the Romanzo Arturiano are heroes who are easily reformed and redeemed, Rustichello also offers the powerful exemplum of a treacherous and dishonorable knight, the Signore della Rocca, whose obstinacy is overcome by Tristanâs personal example of honorable behavior. The interaction between Tristan and the Signore della Rocca not only provides one of the clearest examples of a literary knight being reformed but it also highlights the tensions inherent within Florentine and Tuscan chivalry, tensions that historical knights had to negotiate. In short, this exemplum would have resonated with historical knights who, inevitably, more closely resembled the Signore della Rocca than the literary hero Tristan in their mentality and conduct.
Tristan first encounters the Signore della Rocca while traveling in the company of Palamedes after learning of his misdeeds from a pair of knights who had been defeated and mistreated by him previously (322 [92]). Rather than attacking the Signore della Rocca and teaching him a lesson, Tristan decides instead to first instruct him on a variety of aspects of honorable conduct, an interaction that takes the form of a dialogue. Tristan begins by emphasizing the dishonor suffered when an armed knight attacks a peer who is unarmed: ââegli è disarmato; e voi avete le armi, perciò non potete toccarlo senza riceverne disonoreââ [âhe is unarmed; and you have arms, therefore you cannot touch him without receiving dishonorâ] (323 [94.5â6]; my italics). The Signore della Rocca responds by claiming the right, perhaps even the obligation, to attack and kill his mortal enemy wherever he finds him: ââSe egli è mio nemico, è mio dovere assalirlo in qualsiasi luogo io lo incontri, e metterlo a morte, se mi riesceââ [âIf he is my enemy, it is my obligation to assail him in any place that I meet him, and put him to death, if I am ableâ] (323 [94.7]). This powerful response would have resonated with historical knights, who also treated violent vengeance as both licit and praiseworthy.
Tristanâs condemnation of the Signoreâs powerful impulse to secure vengeance at any cost, especially through dishonorable means, is a rare dissenting voice in a loud chorus of approval. Tristanâs opinion, however, carries particular weight because of his status as the undoubted hero of Arthurian literature in Italy, making him a powerful agent of reform. Faced with the Signoreâs obstinacy, Tristan promises that all honorable knights will be required to resist his dishonorable efforts to secure vengeance (323 [94.7]). Tristan champions the reform message by acknowledging that violence committed when honor is in question is licit and praiseworthy, but only when carried out through honorable means. In the Signoreâs case, his desire to secure vengeance against a mortal enemy leads him to attack an unarmed opponent who is on foot and, thus, is a source of dishonor. Moreover, Tristan seems to understand the Signoreâs dishonorable conduct as an attack on the chivalric community, requiring all loyal and honorable knights to defend it.
Rather than taking the rebuke to heart, however, the Signore decides to attack Tristan, who is unarmed, thus directly contravening Tristanâs lesson. Tristan condemns the Signoreâs intransigence in no uncertain terms: ââsareste davvero così fellone da uccidere un cavaliere errante disarmato, quando voi siete armato?â; âIn verità questo non è un comportamento leale, ma molto disonesto! E quando vedo in voi la disonestà , non vi considero un cavaliereââ [âare you truly so felonous as to kill a knight-errant who is unarmed, when you are armedâ; âIn truth this is not loyal conduct, but very dishonest! And when I see in you [such] dishonesty, I do not consider you a knightâ] (323 [94.11â13]; my italics). Thus, Tristanâs reprimand connects the Signoreâs dishonorable conduct, described as dishonest and disloyal, to the abnegation of his membership in knightly order. The Signore responds by doubling down on the justification that a knight is obliged to attack his mortal enemy wherever and whenever he finds him (323 [94.12]).
After exchanging a few words, Tristan and the Signore della Rocca ride at one another with their lances leveled. This honorable act of violence, which Tristan easily wins thanks to his prowess and valor, stands in stark contrast to the dishonorable nature of the Signoreâs violence. In addition, Tristan offers the vanquished knight peace, an honorable act of mercy that also differs sharply from the Signoreâs now unrealized plan to kill Tristan after defeating him (323 [95.1â8]). The Signore della Rocca reacts with great humility to Tristanâs offer of an honorable peace and forswears his desire for vengeance, implying that Tristanâs prowess and honorable conduct has convinced him to change his ways (323 [95.16â20]). This last scene sharply emphasizes the reform theme, as Tristan succeeds in defending his honor through violence without resorting to dishonorable means, and he earns even greater honor by offering his vanquished enemy mercy, rather than putting him to death. Thus, Tristan is a powerful model of reformed knighthood to be emulated by historical knights.
The Tristano Riccardiano, composed in Tuscany (probably Pisa) by a Florentine in the late-thirteenth century (c. 1280â1300), also offers powerful exempla that promote a reform message connecting dishonorable conduct and treason.15 The Florentine origin of the author suggests that he may have had the warrior elite of that city in mind when crafting this reform message, as Florence was plagued during the final decades of the thirteenth century by devastating violence inflicted by members of this group against one another and their fellow citizens. The composition of this work also roughly corresponds with the promulgation of a series of repressive laws aimed at controlling the excessive violence of Florentine knights.
The anonymous author of this work often explicitly connects dishonorable conduct and treason, as in the case of Lancelotâs conflict with a fellow knight, Lamorak. The scene begins when Lancelot interrupts a private combat between two other knights, Lamorak and Maleagant, who are fighting over whether Queen Guinevere or Isolde, lady of Orcanie, is the most beautiful (316â318/317â319). When Lancelot discovers that Lamorak is serving as Isoldeâs champion in the fait dâarmes (deed of arms or single combat), he takes this as an attack on Guinevere and, thus, as an affront to his personal honor.16 His immediate resort to violence is typical of both literary and historical knights:
âPer mia fé, voi avete molto fallito e molto malvagia[mente contra mee.âE] incontanente ismontoe da cavallo e imbraccioe lo scudo e mise mano a la spada e disse:âCavaliere, ora lasciate a mee questa battaglia, impercioe châio la voglio menare a ffine, perchâio debo difendere madama da tutti li cavalieri.â
[âBy my faith [Lamorak], you have offended me very seriously.â At once he dismounted from his horse, took up his shield and drew his sword, saying, âKnight [Maleagant], leave this battle to me, and I will fight it to the end, for it is I who must defend my lady from all knightsâ]. (318/319)
When Lancelot strikes Lamorak, who is busy fighting Maleagant and unable to defend himself, the latter two knights join together to condemn Lancelotâs violence. Lamorak criticizes Lancelot for ââvoi fate molto grande villania quando voi non ci lasciate menare a ffine nostra battaglia, la quale noi avemo incominciata intra noi dueââ [âacting very basely in not letting the two of us conclude the battle which we had begunâ], a sentiment echoed by Maleagant who characterizes Lancelotâs conduct as ââla maggiore villania châunqua fosse fatta per uno cavaliereââ [âthe basest thing any knight ever didâ] (318/319). Both rebukes share a common theme: Lancelotâs single-minded pursuit of vengeance against Lamorak leads him to act in a dishonorable manner and, thus, act in a manner unbefitting of a knight.
Once again, the author explicitly connects dishonorable conduct and treason when Lancelot strikes Lamorak for a second time. This time, Lamorak excoriates Lancelot for his treacherous conduct: ââPer mia fé, Lancialotto, questi kolpi che voi mâavete dati siranno ricontati davanti a lo ree Artù, sì come voi mâavete ferito molto malvagiamente per due fiateââ [âBy my faith, Lancelot, these blows you have given me will surely be told before King Arthur, for you have treacherously struck me twiceâ] (318â320/319â321; my italics). Just as Tristanâs example in the Romanzo Arturiano presents a model of reformed knighthood for emulation by historical knights, so Lancelotâs dishonorable conduct and treason against chivalry itself is a powerful warning of how historical knights should not comport themselves.
Indeed, the author clarifies the consequences of dishonorable and treasonous conduct in this literary world with the arrival of a fourth knight, Eric, who witnesses Lancelotâs behavior:
âPer mia fé, cuscino, voi non fate kortesia, quando voi kombattete ko lâAmorat per questa aventura. Ondâio voglio che voi si lasciate questa battaglia e nnoe kombattete piue ko llui[...] Onde per lo certo il sappiate, se lo ree Artù sappesse queste kose, per neuna cagione voi sì ne potreste essere <iscusato> e ssareste molto biasimato e lo ree non vi vorrebe vedere in sua korte.â
[âBy my faith, cousin [Lancelot], you are not courteous in fighting Lamorak over this adventure. I want you to drop the battle and fight no more with him [â¦] You may be very certain that if King Arthur learned about all this, there is nothing you could do to obtain pardon; you would be harshly blamed, and the king would not want to see you in his court ever againâ]. (320/321)
Ericâs warning about the dire consequences facing a knight if the larger chivalric community learned of his dishonorable and treasonous conduct seems to finally convince Lancelot to stop attacking Lamorak and make peace. The conclusion of the scene, however, leaves even a modern reader wondering about the sincerity of Lancelotâs apology and the success of the reform message promoted by the three knights. Indeed, Lancelotâs apology to Lamorak is qualified by an obstinate defense of his right, perhaps even obligation, to violently defend the honor of his lady and, by extension, his own honor: ââim[percioe che voi] sappete bene ked io sì debo difendere mada[ma in tu]tte parte a mio podereââ [âfor you [Lamorak] know very well that I must defend my lady everywhere, to the best of my abilityâ] (320â322/321â323; my italics). Lamorak can only respond by praying that Lancelot ââper unâaltra fiata voi non dobiate <fare> quella villaniaââ [ânot do such a base thing another timeâ] (322/323).
Like Lancelot, the eponymous hero of the Tristano Riccardiano also needs reform. Tristanâs dishonorable conduct occurs during a fight between the hero and an unknown knight near the Fountain of Adventure (286â290/287â291). After exchanging many blows and admiring one anotherâs prowess, the two knights come together to make peace (290/291). When Tristan learns the identity of the other knight, his mortal enemy Lamorak, his willingness to make peace is replaced by an almost visceral need for vengeance. In fact, Tristan is molto allegro [overjoyed] to have the opportunity to attack Lamorak, whom he eagerly calls out:
âAmoratto, per mia fé, ora seâ tue morto né da mee non puoâ tue kampare in nessuna maniera, impercioe châio voglio ke ttue sappie ked io sì sono Tristano di Cornovaglia, per le cui mani tue dèi morire [â¦] E ssì tti dico ked io ora non ti lasceroe più per cortesia in nessuna maniera; e impercioe io sì ttâappello a la battaglia.â
[âLamorak, by my faith, you are a dead man now, nor will I let you live for any reason; for I would have you know that I am Tristan of Cornwall, by whose hands you must die [â¦] And I tell you that I will by no means let you off out of courtesy now; therefore I summon you to fightâ]. (290â292/291â293)
Lamorak immediately concedes the battle and asks Tristan for mercy, but the latter refuses. In fact, Tristan demands that Lamorak defend himself so that he can safely attack: ââe impercioe [vi dico] ke voi sì vi guardiate da mee, impercioe kâio vi disfido, e impercioe il ti dico perchâio non voglio che[ ttue possi dire] kâio ti feggia [a ttra]dimentoââ [âI tell you [Lamorak] to be on your guard, for I challenge you. I tell you this because I do not want you to be able to say that I attacked you dishonorablyâ] (292/293). This is a remarkable exchange because it suggests that Lancelot is aware of the dishonor he will suffer if, in his pursuit of vengeance against Lamorak, he conducts himself in a manner unbefitting a knight.
Despite this recognition, when Lamorak continues to refuse to fight, Tristan falls victim to the same overpowering desire for violent vengeance that plagues other literary and, ostensibly, historical knights. Lamorak responds to Tristanâs attack in a manner similar to his castigation of Lancelotâs conduct during Lamorakâs combat against Maleagant. In this case, however, Lamorak reprimands Tristan for attacking a knight who has surrendered and seeks mercy, stating ââPer mia fé, Tristano, voi avete troppo fallito quando voi mi ferite, dappoi ked io non voglio piue combattere, e impercioe vo priego ke voi non mi dobiate piue fedire, impercioe ked io sì vi lascio questa battagliaââ [âBy my faith, Tristan, you do very wrong to attack me, for I no longer wish to fight. Therefore I pray you not to strike me again, for I concede this battle to youâ] (292/293). Like Lancelot, Tristan is consumed by his desire to secure vengeance by any means necessary. When he strikes Lamorak again, the knight issues an even more powerful rebuke of Tristanâs dishonorable conduct:
âPer mia fé, Tristano, ora conosco io bene ke voi sì mâavete ferito due fiate e ssì kome voi non dovete, impercioe kâio non vidi unqua neuno kavaliere il quale volesse menare a morte tutti li cavalieri, sì come fate voi. Ma io voglio che voi sappiate [â¦] ked io sì mi richiameroe di voi a lo ree Arturi ed a ttutti li buoni cavalieri, sì come voi mi volete menare a ffine, chiamandovâio mercede.â
[âBy my faith, Tristan, I see now that you have struck me twice when you should not; I never saw any knight who wanted to kill all other knights, as you are doing. I want you to know [â¦] that I will complain of you to King Arthur and to all the worthy knights, that you wanted to kill me even as I was asking for mercyâ]. (292â294/293â295)
Although Tristan eventually relents and makes peace with Lamorak, the heroâs continued willingness to abandon the proper and honorable conduct he promotes elsewhere in the work and demonstrates at the start of his conflict with Lamorak, suggests the powerful impulse among historical knights to secure violent vengeance through whatever means are necessary. Thus, Tristanâs eventual transformation in the face of this potent impulse reinforces the authorâs reform message.
The anonymous Tuscan romance Tristano Panciatichiano, composed in the early fourteenth century in the Pisan vernacular, provided members of the Florentine and Tuscan warrior elite with numerous exempla of literary knights who are condemned for dishonorable conduct committed during the violent pursuit of honor and vengeance.17 As in the Tristano Riccardiano, this conduct is often connected explicitly to treason, and most of the offending knights see the error of their ways and are reformed. An exchange between Sir Gauvain and Lamorak illustrates the powerful, almost visceral desire for vengeance at any cost felt by the Signore, Lancelot, and Tristan in previous examples, as well as efforts to correct this impulse through reform. In this particular scene, Gauvain comes across Lamorak, his mortal enemy, who is injured and cannot defend himself. Gauvain initially sees nothing wrong with taking his vengeance whenever the opportunity presents itself, regardless of the fact that his enemy is incapacitated. Lamorak responds to Gauvainâs aggression by condemning his conduct: ââQuesto serebbe grande villania [â¦] e voi lo sapete bene [â¦] et chi lo saperà lo vi porà in grande disnoreââ [âThis would be great villainy [â¦] and well you know it [â¦] and whoever finds this out will hold you in low esteemâ] (314/315). This sharp rebuke, however, does not succeed in stopping Gauvain, who is poised to behead Lamorak. After Tristan witnesses the grande oltraggio [great outrage] done by Gauvain, he decides to rescue the defenseless knight by attacking Gauvain (314/315). With Lamorak safe from Gauvainâs violence, Tristan rides off, leaving the formerly defenseless knight with the power to punish Gauvain. Lamorak, an honorable knight in comparison, chooses to show mercy rather than to take vengeance upon Gauvain, thus echoing Tristanâs merciful treatment of the Signore:
âSiate leale, cavalieri, ché vedete che Dio vâà mostrato così grande meraviglia et ora potreâ io fare di voi quello che voi volavate fare di me.â Et messer Calvano che conosce che dice vero et conosce suo male inconcio e conosce la bontà de lLamoratto e la cortesia sua, volleli fare honore.
[âBe loyal, knight, because you see that God has in this way shown you a great wonder, and now I could do to you what you wanted to do to me.â And Sir Gauvain, who knows that [Lamorak] speaks truly and realizes his plight and recognizes [Lamorakâs] goodness and courtesy, wanted to pay him honor]. (314/315)
This course of action not only wins Lamorak great honor but also succeeds in reforming Gauvain through his example. Thus, the lesson imparted by this scene to historical knights is very similar to that offered in other examples: while violence employed as a matter of honor was licit and praiseworthy, a knight who pursued vengeance at all costs and whatever the circumstances often left the honorable path and became entangled in the thicket of dishonor. His dishonorable conduct violated the normative ideals of chivalry and, thus, was connected to villainy and to treason. These serious charges served as both a deterrent of similar behavior in the future and an impetus for reform, because failure to do so resulted in dishonor and the abnegation of membership in the knightly order.
The Tristano Panciatichiano also offers numerous exempla of unreformed knights, warriors who either refuse or fail to be reformed. These knights end their lives as traitors, excluded from the chivalric community, an ignominious fate glaringly obvious to the aristocratic and knightly audience. One of the major stories of unreformed knighthood in the Tristano Panciatichiano is that of the serf-knights of Vermillion City, who murder their lord, the King of Vermilion City. Palamedes is offered the opportunity to secure vengeance against the serf-knights on behalf of the deceased king, and he readily accepts when he learns that the King had been killed through per fellonia et per tradimento [wickedness and treachery] (474/475). Indeed, a messenger from the kingdom informs Palamedes that the serf-knights had ridden down the king after he had dismounted to drink from a stream during a hunt, an act described as âa grande torto et a grande tradigioneâ [a great misdeed and a great treachery] (476/477). In this case, the connection of dishonorable conduct with treason is very explicit, as the actions of the serf-knights constituted laesa maiestas (lèse-majesté), or treason against their sovereign lord, a charge which Palamedes lays out in stark terms:
Allora si torna elli inverso li frati cavalieri e disse, âIo vi posso ora dire, signori cavalieri, la cagione perchâio sono qui venuto in questo campo, perciò che voi avete facto inver lo vostro legiptimo signore sì fatta dislealtà che voi sete degni di ricevere morte vitiperosa. Et se voi ciò volete rinegare o dire che voi lui non uccideste io sono aparecchiato di provarvelo cioè questa tradigione.â
[Then [Palamedes] turns toward the brother [serf-]knights and said, âI can now tell you, lord knights, the reason for which I have come here onto this field: because you have done such a disloyal thing against your legitimate lord that you deserve to receive a contemptible death. And if you want to deny it or say that you did not kill him, I am ready to prove it to you, that is, this betrayalâ]. (524/525)
Moreover, this particular story offers a direct and explicit connection between dishonorable conduct, treason, and low social status, that of a serf. Thus, the lesson imparted to historical knights took on added impetus, as dishonorable and treasonous conduct led not only to exclusion from the chivalric community but also the loss of cherished social status.
Palamedes, a great and honorable knight, delivers the divinely ordained vengeance against the serf-knights, but not before the audience of the Tristano Panciatichiano is offered irrefutable proof that the serf-knights conduct themselves dishonorably and, thus, are unworthy to enjoy the dignity of knighthood. During the first charge, Palamedes manages to kill one of the serf-knights with his lance, but he is in turn knocked from his saddle by the second knight, who had villainously attacked him at the same time. The serf-knight compounds his dishonorable conduct by attempting to ride down Palamedes, who is now on foot.18 It is at this point that Palamedes delivers a rebuke of the serf-knightâs dishonorable conduct: ââSe voi non discendete, io ucciderò lo cavallo e si arete onta e vergognaââ [âIf you donât get off, Iâll kill the horse and youâll have [the] dishonor and shameâ] (526/527). The serf-knight does not comply, and Palamedes is forced to kill his horse, which draws an even more virulent condemnation from the hero: ââAi, cavalieri! che voi mâavete fatto fare villania, se Dio mi salvi, e disnore, ché vostro cavallo mâavete fatto uccidere. Lo biasimo non è mica mio, anzi è vostroââ [âAh, Knight! You have made me act villainously and dishonorably, may God save me, because you made me kill your horse. The blame is not mine at all; instead, it is yoursâ] (526/527). Palamedesâ excoriation of the serf-knight thus targets not only his dishonorable conduct, which is associated through use of the term âvillainâ with his low social status (i.e., villein), but also the dishonorable deeds the serf-knight forces Palamedes to commit. Rather than staining Palamedesâs honor, however, this compounds the serf-knightâs dishonor.
The battle between Palamedes and the remaining serf-knight continues on the ground. It is at this stage of the combat that the author tellingly criticizes the impulse of both literary and historical knights to pursue vengeance and matters of honor through violence at any cost, by condemning a knight who is a âproâ e ardito cavalieri e savio di battagliaâ [valiant and bold knight and expert in battle] but lacking in the other tenets of chivalric ideology (528/529). In other words, a knight who obstinately seeks vengeance or honor through dishonorable means is not worthy of bearing the dignity of knighthood.
Given the historical context of this work, produced as it was in the first-half of the fourteenth century, the dishonorable serf-knight likely was an attack on the new elite of Florence and other Tuscan cities who had pretensions to knighthood, men who may have even been brave and skilled in the profession of arms but ultimately lacking in the other important elements found in the constellation of chivalry. Such men could not help but conduct themselves in a dishonorable and treasonous manner. In the end, Palamedes defeats the serf-knight, reinforcing the reform message that violent vengeance can be secured while conducting oneself in an honorable manner. Knights who fail to understand this, like the serf-knights, are deemed traditori [traitors] and unworthy to bear the dignity of knighthood (532/533).
A second exemplum of unreformed and treacherous knighthood found in the Tristano Panciatichiano, as well as in other works, is Breus-senza-pietà [Breus without pity]. Similar to the serf-knights, Breusâs prowess and bravery are not in question, but he suffers from severe character defects, especially his penchant for dishonorable conduct and treachery. Indeed, the author of the romance at one point describes him as âbene buono cavalieri, ma la sua follia lo faceva assai vileâ [a very good knight, but his folly [disloyal and treacherous conduct] was making him very base] (330/331). Breusâs interaction with the Page of the Slashed Surcoat offers clear evidence of Breusâs dishonorable conduct.19 Breus arrives on the scene just after the Page of the Slashed Surcoat had fought and defeated a fellow knight. Both knights lay wounded on the grass, but the defeated knight was unable to move or speak, let alone defend himself. Breus, mounted on his warhorse, immediately attacked the defenseless knight, who is described as his mortal enemy, with the intention of killing him. This conduct drew a swift rebuke from the Page of the Slashed Surcoat who cried: âNon fate, châelli è villania, ché lo cavalieri non si puote levare perciò châelli è feritoâ [Donât do it because it is villainy, since the knight cannot get up because he is wounded] (320/321). Once again, the obstinate pursuit of vengeance through whatever means are necessary is decried as dishonorable and villainous conduct. As with other unreformed knights, Breus ignores the pageâs harsh criticism, continuing his single-minded pursuit of vengeance against his mortal enemy instead.
When the page takes it upon himself to defend the incapacitated knight, Breus rides down the page with his horse. Palamedes, who happens to witness Breusâs dishonorable conduct, immediately admonishes the knight for attacking while mounted a fellow knight who is injured and on foot, calling him a disleale cavalieri [disloyal knight] (320/321). Breus predictably rejects Palamedesâs criticism and attacks him. Palamedes easily defeats Breus in an honorable combat, after which Breus flees, leaving the victorious knight, the Page of the Slashed Surcoat, and the recently arrived Bors of Gaul to discuss the evil knightâs conduct. Borsâs reaction captures the prevailing feeling among these honorable knights toward Breusâ dishonorable and treacherous conduct: ââO God! If I could ever get my hands on him, I would kill himââ (320/321). This implies that honorable knights thought it was their duty to eliminate dishonorable knights who refused to be reformed. Such dishonorable conduct was a betrayal of chivalry and an abnegation of the right to bear the dignity of knighthood.
While the knights were talking, they were joined by another knight whom they did not recognize; little did they know it was Breus, who had changed his horse and arms. Breus does this to sow great confusion among the knights who were looking for him. He even claims to have chased after Brius lo disleale [Breus the Disloyal], who ultimately escapes (322/323). The knights accept him as one of their own, and together they pledge to catch and kill Breus, whose constant disloyalty and treacherous conduct is like a cancer in the body of chivalry (322/323). This pledge once again reinforces the dictate that all honorable knights are obliged to defend the sanctity of chivalry against the corruption caused by the dishonorable and treasonous conduct of some knights.
The incognito Breus convinces the page, Palamedes, and Bors to spend the night at his castle, promising to help them catch Breus the next day. They agree and travel to his castle discussing along the way âdella morte di Brius et di sue grandi disle[a]ltadiâ [Breusâs death and about his great treachery] (322/323). Breus, who has more treachery planned, gives them lodging in the lower level of his castle, which is actually a prison, and then retires for the night to plan how to kill them. Eventually, Lancelot arrives at Breusâs castle to rescue the honorable knights through his great prowess.20 When Breus resists, Lancelot easily knocks him from his horse before dismounting, like an honorable knight, to finish Breus with his sword. Breus resorts to cunning in order to escape from certain death at Lancelotâs hands. Breus begins his ruse by appealing to Lancelotâs great nobility and offering to release his prisoners in exchange for his life, an offer which Lancelot readily accepts. As soon as Breus releases the prisoners and locks himself safely in his castle, however, he immediately swears he will avenge himself on Lancelot as soon as he is able (330/331). Rather than learning a valuable lesson from Lancelotâs honorable conduct and courtesy after his defeat, Breus immediately rekindles his desire for vengeance, this time against Lancelot, using whatever dishonorable and treacherous means are necessary.
Breus resurfaces later in the romance when he comes across Tristan and Palamedes, although the author assures his audience that the knight spent the interim âandava tuttavia per fare male così come elli era costumato di fare già grande tempoâ [going around doing evil deeds as he had been accustomed to doing for a long time already] (392/393). Breus does not spend long in Tristan and Palamedesâ company, however, as he is forced to flee when another knight, Bliobleris, arrives and demands a joust. Breus gallops away, only to run into three more knights: Hector, Percival, and Erec. According to the author, Erec has a reputation for âgran forza et di grande ardimento siché non farebbe leggierimente codardia. Et si avia in lui una gratia che molti cavalieri no llâaviano, châelli non arà mancato di cosa châelli promettesseroâ [such great strength and great boldness that he would not easily do anything cowardly. And he had a quality that many knights do not have: that he would never break a promise he had made] (400/401). He was, in many ways, a model knight and perhaps the only one capable of reforming Breus.
Similar to his earlier deception, Breus tricks the three knights into believing that Bliobleris, who is chasing him, is actually Breus, âlo più disleale cavalieri del mondoâ [the most disloyal knight in the world] (400/401). The knights prepare to fight Bliobleris, who believes, in turn, that the three knights are Breusâs friends. Bliobleris first knocks Erec from his saddle after a violent clash. Percival and Hector are amazed that âlo più vile cavalieri e lo più malvagio del mondo à e così proâ cavalieri abattuto come è messer Arecâ [the most vile and wicked knight in the world has struck down such a valiant knight as Sir Erec] (402/403). Indeed, it seems inconceivable, if not entirely contradictory to the reform message that this work promotes so powerfully elsewhere, that an honorable, loyal knight such as Erec could be bested by a dishonorable, treacherous knight like Breus. Of course, the audience knows the true identity of the victorious knight, thus making this seemingly damning contradiction a moot point.
After defeating Percival in a similar fashion, Bliobleris finally jousts against Hector, resulting in both knights being unhorsed. When Breus sees Bliobleris on foot, he regards it (as only a treacherous knight could) as an opportunity to avenge himself. The author makes explicit that Breus was not in any way troubled by the fact that his pursuit of vengeance led him to attack, while mounted and after sewing considerable confusion, a fellow knight who was on foot (404/405). When Breus runs Bliobleris down, his dishonorable conduct draws the ire and condemnation of the other knights, especially Erec, who âno llo volle niente sofferire, châelli era molto cortese cavalieri, Erec, châera cavalieri di molto grande lignaggio e arditoâ [didnât want to permit [Breusâs attack on BlioÂbleris] at all because Erec was a very courteous knight, of very great lineage, and bold] (404/405). As an honorable knight, Erec is offended by Breusâs dishonorable conduct and feels obliged to stop it if possible.
Erecâs efforts to reform Breus take the form of a conversation, somewhat similar to the dialog between Tristan and the Signore della Rocca in Romanzo Arturiano, with the predictable difference that Breus is not at all receptive to the reform message. Erec begins by admonishing Breus for fate villania [committing villainy] and grande disleeltà [great disloyalty] by attacking a knight who is on foot while mounted (404/405). Breus justifies his dishonorable violence with the excuse of vengeance, but Erec attempts to correct him by pointing out the dishonorable and treacherous nature of such conduct, declaring âche più grande tradigione e fellonia non potrebbe cavalieri fare, cioè dâasaglire questo cavalieri a piedi essendo voi a cavalloâ [a knight could do no greater treachery and felony than to assail this knight on foot while being on horseback] (404/405). This time, Breus feigns understanding, tricking Erec into believing that he will not attack Bliobleris. Of course, as soon as Breus is free from Erecâs control, he attacks Bliobleris, drawing yet another condemnation from the knight: âCerto, cavalieri, voi non sete mica leale; anzi sete disleale e fellone!â [Knight, you are certainly not very loyal; rather, you are disloyal and wicked!] (404/405).
It is only when Breus, the malvagio e traito [wicked and treacherous] and âlo più disleale cavalieri del mondoâ [most disloyal knight in the world], escapes that the knights realize they have been âastiati costui villanamenteâ [villainously deceived] (406/407). Blioblerisâs reaction to Breusâs ruse and escape aptly summarizes the prevailing feeling among the honorable and loyal knights, for âQuando Briobreis intende queste novelle e elli sâincomincia a segnare dela meraviglia e dice, âAi, Dio! Fue unqua al mondo così disleale cavalieri e che tanto sapesse di tradimento e di fellonia?ââ [he begins to cross himself in amazement and says, âOh, God! Was there ever such a disloyal knight in the world who knew so much about betrayal and wickedness?â] (406/407).
Breus appears for a final time in the romance while Palamedes and Tristan are traveling to the tournament at Loverzep. Breus, once again incognito, ambushes them, attacking Tristan, who is unarmed (552/553). This dishonorable conduct, completely in keeping with Breusâs past behavior, is once again condemned by honorable knights. When Palamedes bravely intercepts Breus and knocks him to the ground, it seems that this time Breus will not escape punishment for all of his dishonorable and treacherous deeds. Palamedes allows Tristan to decide whether or not to kill the cavalieri di malo affare [knight of evil deeds], and Tristan advises restraint and mercy, thus completely rejecting Breusâs model of knighthood (552â554/553â555). Breus eventually escapes, and when Tristan and Palamedes realize his true identity, they become enraged, for âchâelli è lo più disleale cavalieri del mondo e lo più traditore e quelli che peggio fa quando elli si trovi in lu[o]go che fare possaâ [he is the most disloyal knight in the world and the most treacherous and who does the worst he can when he finds himself in a place where he can do it] (556/557). Thus, Breus is the only treasonous and dishonorable knight to avoid physical punishment for his manifold treachery and remain unreformed, although he has been so thoroughly dishonored that he no longer is deemed worthy of bearing the dignity of knighthood, an ignominious fate.21
Reform messages were not limited to the large corpus of Arthurian works that circulated in Tuscany during this period; indeed, they can also be found in works belonging to the âMatter of France,â such as the anonymous fourteenth century Florentine prose romance, the Storia e legenda di Messer Prodesagio.22 This romance promotes a similar reform message to historical knights through an exemplum of a dishonorable and treacherous knight, Andrea Maganza, whose fall from grace and power is spectacular and ignominious. Despite Maganzaâs initial prominence at the court of the emperor, he quickly becomes the romanceâs primary villain, a fact that is not supposed to be surprising to the audience of this work, given the Maganza familyâs long history of treachery. Andrea, like his uncle Ganelon who famously betrayed Roland, proves to be no exception.23 Indeed, the family is described as âgrande e nobile baronia di gente, ed erano tutti la magiore parte forti e arditi uomini dellâarme, se none châelli avevano la maladetta magagna châegli erano tutti traditoriâ [great and noble barons of people, and they were all for the most part strong and brave men at arms, if not [for the fact] that they had the cursed defect that they were all traitors] (3). This defect renders them unfit to bear the dignity of knighthood.
At the start of the romance, the eponymous hero, Prodesagio, is only a child, but his father, Ciattivo, is a great knight and nobleman at the court of the emperor (4). One day, Ciattivo has an altercation with a member of the Maganza family at the court of the emperor of France, resulting in the death of the Maganza man (3). Ciattivo decides to leave the court, but the narrator makes it clear that he does not flee out of fear of the Maganza or of their prowess, but rather âper paura di loro tradimentiâ [through fear of their treachery], a sensible precaution given the familyâs long history of dishonorable conduct (3). This emphasis on treachery clarifies for the audience that Ciattivo did not flee out of fear of vengeance, which would have been a source of great dishonor, but rather because the Maganza family could not be trusted to pursue vengeance in an honorable manner.
Ciattivoâs foreboding proves to be prescient, for a short time later, Andrea tricks Ciattivo into entering the Belvase woods unarmed, where Andrea ambushes him.24 While ambushing an enemy in battle is not inherently dishonorable, Andreaâs use of a counterfeit letter purportedly from the emperor requesting Ciattivoâs presence at a meeting renders this a dishonorable and treacherous act, allowing the Maganza to secure vengeance through means unworthy of the dignity of knighthood (5). Compounding Andreaâs treachery was his personal conduct during the ambush, when he rode down Ciattivo, who was on foot, killing him (7). The lesson seems to be that vengeance secured through dishonorable means was not actually a source of honor, but rather treacherous conduct unbecoming of a knight.
When the only survivor of Ciattivoâs party returns home and reports Andreaâs treachery, there is great sadness at the court.25 The reaction of the young hero of the romance, Prodesagio, who swears an oath to âfare la grande vendetta sopra lo traditoreâ [make great vengeance against the traitor [Andrea]] is yet another salvo of this powerful reform message that spans the entirety of the work (8). Unfortunately for Prodesagio, he is too young and not strong enough to wear his fatherâs armor and, thus, must wait for his vengeance. Indeed, the entire romance from this point forward is the story of his pursuit of vengeance, a quest to rid the empire and the chivalric community of the pernicious cancer represented by the dishonorable Maganza family.
Unlike many of the knights discussed earlier, however, Prodesagioâs steadfast desire for vengeance does not lead him to act dishonorably or to betray the chivalric community. Ostensibly, historical knights would have been able to easily contrast Prodesagioâs continuous honorable conduct with the actions of members of the Maganza family and their Saracen allies, both of whom perpetrate numerous acts of treachery, threatening the empire and the entirety of Christendom.26 Not only does Prodesagio counter these threats through praiseworthy acts of violence, but the hero never deviates from the path of honor in his pursuit of vengeance. In the end, the author judges Prodesagioâs vengeance for the treacherous murder of his father positively, stating unequivocally that Ciattivo is bene vendicato [well avenged] (75). For historical knights who heard or read this work, the lesson of Andreaâs treachery and Prodesagioâs tireless pursuit of vengeance while maintaining his honor is two-fold: first, an unreformed knight will not only lose his life but also his honor and membership in the chivalric community; and second, the treasonous conduct of an unrepentant knight must be cleansed by all honorable knights through valorous violence.
The authors of the large corpus of romances composed and consumed in late medieval Florence and Tuscany exposed historical knights to numerous examples of dishonorable and treacherous knights being reformed and of unreformed, traitorous knights receiving violent justice. The former group saw their honor restored and identities affirmed, while the latter lost not only their honor and identities but also their lives. Such reform efforts offered a powerful and necessary, albeit subtle, balance to the effusive praise of excessive, valorized violence that generally dominates the narratives of chivalric romances and epics. The goal, after all, was not to stop historical knights from exercising the bloody violence that was central to their identities, but rather to encourage them to do so honorably, thus allowing prowess and valor to determine the outcome.
The literature is extensive, but see in particular: Silvia Diacciati, Popolani e magnati: Società e politica nella Firenze del Duecento (Spoleto: CISAM, 2011); Andrea Zorzi, La trasformazione di un quadro: Ricerche su politica e giustizia a Firenze dal comune allo Stato territoriale (Florence: Firenze University Press, 2008); John Najemy, A History of Florence, 1200â1575 (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2006); Jean-Claude Maire Vigueur, Cavalieri e cittadini: Guerra, conflitti e società nellâItalia comunale (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2004); and Carol Lansing, The Florentine Magnates: Lineage and Faction in a Medieval Commune (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1991). General studies include: Samuel K. Cohn Jr. and Fabrizio Ricciardelli, eds., The Culture of Violence in Renaissance Italy (Florence: Le Lettere, 2012) and Lauro Martines, ed., Violence and Civil Disorder in Italian Cities (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1972).
Peter Sposato, âChivalry and Honor-Violence in Late Medieval Florence,â in Prowess, Piety, and Public Order in Medieval Society: Studies in Honor of Richard W. Kaeuper, ed. Daniel Franke and Craig Nakashian, 102â119 (Leiden: Brill, 2017). For the general European context, see: Richard Kaeuper, Medieval Chivalry (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2016).
For an important example of a reformer operating outside of chivalric circles, the Florentine notary Brunetto Latini, see: Peter Sposato, âReforming the Chivalric Elite in Thirteenth Century Florence: The Evidence of Brunetto Latiniâs Il Tesoretto,â Viator 46.1 (Spring 2015): 203â228.
For an analysis of reform messages in chivalric literature, see: Kaeuper, Chivalry and Violence, 231â297; Kaeuper and Elspeth Kennedy, The Book of Chivalry of Geoffroi de Charny: Text, Context, and Translation (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1996), 29â30, 52â56; and Sposato, âReforming the Chivalric Elite,â 210â227. A comprehensive discussion of these romances can be found in The Arthur of the Italians: The Arthurian Legend in Medieval Italian Literature and Culture, ed. Gloria Allaire and F. Regina Psaki (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2014) and Daniela Delcorno Branca, Tristano e Lancillotto in Italia: Studi di letteratura arturiana (Ravenna: Longo Editore, 1998).
Constance Bouchard, âStrong of Body, Brave and Nobleâ: Chivalry and Society in Medieval France (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1998) and Richard Kaeuper, âLiterature as Essential Evidence for Understanding Chivalry,â Journal of Medieval Military History 5 (2007): 1â15.
Martin Aurell, The Lettered Knight: Knowledge and Aristocratic Behaviour in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries, tr. Jean-Charles Khalifa and Jeremy Price (Budapest: Central European Press, 2017), 39â97, 103â111, 145â172.
Robert Black, Education and Society in Florentine Tuscany: Teachers, Pupils and Schools, c. 1250â1500 (Leiden: Brill, 2007).
For treason against a centralized authority in the Florentine context, see: Robert Fredona, âBaldus de Ubaldis on Conspiracy and Laesa Maiestas in Late Trecento Florence,â in The Politics of Law in Late Medieval and Renaissance Italy, ed. Lawrin Armstrong and Julius Kirshner, 141â160 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2016).
Kaeuper, Medieval Chivalry, 46â48 at 46; and Richard Kaeuper, Chivalry and Violence in Medieval Europe (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999), 186: Kaeuper argues that the focus of knightly loyalty was to chivalry itself.
Rustichello da Pisa, Il Romanzo Arturiano, ed. and trans. Fabrizio Cigni (Pisa: Cassa di risparmio di Pisa, 1994). All English translations for this work are mine. Page numbers are given in parentheses.
Fabrizio Cigni, âFrench Redactions in Italy: Rustichello da Pisa,â in Allaire and Psaki, The Arthur of the Italians, 21â40 at 26â27: Cigni identifies four principal manuscripts.
Italian Literature II: Tristano Riccardiano, ed. and trans. F. Regina Psaki (Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2006) [hereafter Tristano Riccardiano]; all English translations are Psakiâs. Page numbers are given in parentheses. See also: Marie-José Heijkant, âFrom France to Italy: The Tristan Texts,â in Allaire and Psaki, The Arthur of the Italians, 48Ââ50.
For a further discussion of Guinevereâs treason, see in this volume: Albrecht Classen, âTreason and Deception in Late Medieval German Romances and Novels Königin Sibille, Melusine, and Malagisâ; Inna MatyuÂshina, âTreacherous Women at King Arthurâs Court: Punishment and Shameâ; Melissa Ridley Elmes, âTreason and the Feast in Sir Thomas Maloryâs Morte Darthurâ; and Larissa Tracy, âThe Shame Game, from Guinevere to Cersei: Adultery, Treason and Betrayal.â
Italian Literature I: Tristano Panciatichiano, ed. and trans. Gloria Allaire (Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2002) [hereafter Tristano Panciatichiano]; all English translations are Allaireâs. Page numbers are given in parentheses. See also: Heijkant, âFrom France to Italy,â 50â52.
For the altercation between Lancelot and Breus and the aftermath, see: Tristano Panciatichiano, 327/328â332/333.
Undoubtedly, this would have registered with historical knights. On the question of knightly readership, see: Bouchard, âStrong of Body, Brave and Nobleâ, 105â109; Kaeuper, âLiterature as Essential Evidence,â 1â15; and Aurell, The Lettered Knight, 39â97, 103â111, and 145â172.
La legenda e storia di messere Prodesagio, ed. Marco Maulu (Cagliari: Centro di Studi Filologici Sardi, 2010); all English translations are mine. Page numbers are given in parentheses.
For Ganelon as a traitor, see: La legenda e storia di messere Prodesagio, 8. For discussions of other Charlemagne romances in this volume, see: Tina Boyer, âLegal Ramifications of Ordeals and Treason in Morant und Galieâ and Ana Grinberg, âReligious Identity, Loyalty, and Treason in the Cycle du roi.â
La legenda e storia di messere Prodesagio, 9: ââquando noi passavamo per lo bosco di Belvase noi trovamo uno aguato che copriva tutta la contrada di cavalieri; e uno traditore châà nome Andrea da Pontieri [Maganza]ââ [âwhen we passed through the forest of Belvase we discovered an ambush that covered the road traveled by the knights; and a traitor that had the name Andrea da Pontieri [Maganza]â].
For example, the knight Riccieri, a member of the Maganza family, employs magic to treacherously defeat one of Prodesagioâs loyal knights, Rinieri (La legenda e storia di messere Prodesagio, 54). Likewise, the king of the Turks employs treacherous tactics to capture Prodesagio during battle (La legenda e storia di messere Prodesagio, 59).