"That monster, Fortune!"

Table of contents

1. Introduction

2. Medieval tragedy and Fortuna
2.1 Early Beginnings
2.2 Boethius and the De Consolatione Philosophiae
2.3 The Consolation and Fortune
2.3.1 Representation
2.3.2 Concept

3. From antiquity to tragedy

4. The Alliterative Morte Arthure
4.1 The AMA and the formula of the wheel
Regnabo – I shall reign
Regno – I reign
Regnavi – I reigned for a while
Sum sine Regno – I am without reign
4.2 King Arthur’s dream and Fortune
4.2.1 Fortune, Arthur and the Nine Worthies

5. Conclusion

Works cited

Primary source

Secondary sources

1. Introduction

The concept of Fortuna and her wheel, or to be more general of fate and fortune itself in ancient and medieval literary and philosophical culture has been the topic of numerous investigations stretching over cultural and temporal boundaries. Beginning with the Roman and early medieval tradition culminating in Boethius De Consolatione Philosophiae scholars have tried to apply the concept of Fortuna to nearly every literary production from Cicero up to Shakespeare’s Renaissance conception of medieval tragedy and Fortune’s influence upon it. On the other hand, Arthurian literature as a literary product has not only influenced the evolution of the European literary canon, but has itself been struck by several literary and philosophical concepts. Especially those Arthurian pre-Renaissance poems commonly referred to as the Alliterative Revival have been affected by the newly introduced model of medieval tragedy as established in Chaucer or Lydgate’s Fall of Princes. For Arthurian matters this fusion of traditions becomes most obvious in the anonymously composed Alliterative Morte Arthure; here, both the Boethian and the medieval tradition of Lady Fortune as the mistress of human fate and the hence resulting beginnings of early medieval tragedy come to the surface. As a concept not only closely linked to the wheel of Fortune but also to Arthurian literature per se the topos of the Nine Worthies, introduced for the first time by the fourteenth-century writer Jaques de Languyon in his Veux du Paon, also has to be taken into consideration. The Nine Worthies as a representation of Fortune’s grace and disposal with King Arthur being mentioned in the Alliterative Morte Arthure as one of the greatest amongst them, the fusion of all the concepts mentioned in the above has reached its zenith.

In the following, this paper will try to elaborate on the literary and philosophical concepts mentioned above, with a particular interest in the tradition of Fortuna and her appearance in the Alliterative Morte Arthure. Beginning with the commencements of the topos in late Roman and early medieval literature, I will try to exemplify the development of the concept with reference to Boethius’ De Consolatione Philospohiae and the Italo-English understanding and deployment of the de casibus tragedies, and answer the question of whether or not the AMA can be added to this genre. In doing so, the relation of the Alliterative Morte Arthure to the progress of the medieval tragic concept will be highlighted.

Finally, the Alliterative Morte Arthure will serve as the textual basis when both, the concept of Fortune and the Nine Worthies, as well as their amalgamation will be examined.

2. Medieval tragedy and Fortuna

2.1 Early Beginnings

Although referred to as one of the gods of Pantheon the tradition of the goddess Fortuna can be seen as rather short due to her not being one of the Roman di indigetes^[1]. She was probably introduced by the sixth Roman king Servius Tullius who justified his coronation with the help of the goddess. Unlike the indigenous gods of Roman cult, Fortuna did not possess any special characteristics solely ascribed to her.

This (…) reflects a multitude of Fortunae: from the very general abstractions, such as Fortuna bona, to the very specific, such as Fortuna conservatrix, with the object or person of one’s choice added in the genitive. There was no single general goddess of Fortuna, but rather a host of deities governing particular aspects and activities of life. (Frakes 12)

This is why the quality of her character differs considerably, as the case arises. She is described as a goddess of luck, purely docile and gracious to mankind; on the other hand, she can be malicious and fickle, which makes her appear indefinable. Her name, however, is formed by the adjective fors, which means luck, and the predicate ferre meaning “to bring” which ultimately leads to the analysis of her name as “the luck bringer” or bona dea as she was later called. She is described as being blind or at least blind folded and sometimes represented as being double faced like Janus with one smiling and one frowning face, which contributes to her inconsistency. Her identification as a woman underlined her fickleness of character; however, the negative image of the capricious ruler of fate was an attribute of later Roman times. The Ad Herennin fragment is one of the earliest accounts in this respect and attests to the change of character.

Fortunam insanam esse et caecam et brutam perhibent philosophi,

Saxoque instare in globoso praedicant uolubili,

Quia quo id saxum inpulerit fors, eo cadere Fortuna, autumant.

Insanam autem esse aiunt quia atrox incerta instabilisque sit;

Caecam ob eam rem esse iterant quia nil cernat quo sese adplicet;

Brutam quia dignum atque indignum nequeat internoscere.

Sunt autem alii philosophi qui contra Fortunam negant

Esse ullam sed temeriate res regi omnes autumant.

Id magis uerisimile esse usus reapse experiuno edocet;

Uelut Orestes modo fuit rex, factust mendicus modo. (qtd. in Frakes 14)

Fortuna is described here as being insane, blind and asinine as well as cruel, doubtful and erratic. This condemning picture of Fortuna’ s nature is due to the Hellenistic concept of Tyche which served as a role model for the later Roman goddess. She is in absolute control of human fate and life, visualized by three symbols which are innate to her. Due to one of her titles as goddess of fertility she is sometimes shown with a cornucopia to symbolize affluence, abundance and wealth; however, as a goddess of fate the rudder and the wheel or ball are signs of higher importance. The steering wheel represents her power over the course of human life and fate, whereas the wheel and the ball are more likely to be symbols of her arbitrariness: “Saxoque instare in globoso praedicant uolubili, Quia quo id saxum inpulerit fors, eo cadere Fortuna, autumant” (qtd. in Frakes 12).

With the dawn of Christianity, however, the personified goddess began to disappear though not completely; instead of being a goddess herself she now became a divine instrument. She was not the executive power of antiquity anymore, for this would have been insupportable for Christendom; however, she became the executrix of godly providence and at the same time a tolerable figure of philosophy and poetry. “Die christliche Fortuna, die ihren aus heidnischem Kult übernommenen Namen und das Attribut des Rades behalten darf, ist heilspädagogisches Werkzeug Gottes; ihre Gaben sind der Prüfstein, an dem der Mensch sich bewähren muß“ (Sanders 16). In the course of the Middle Ages this theo-philosophical image had been enormously influenced by Boethius’ De Consolatione Philosophiae, whose literary arrangement of a former pagan deity transformed it not only into a topos, widely known and used in Medieval literature but also into God’s agent in the affairs of mankind.

2.2 Boethius and the De Consolatione Philosophiae

By writing the Consolation of Philosophy Boethius provided all educated people of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance with one of their principal classics, a work of both intellectual profundity and literary delight to be read not only in Latin by clerks in their study but also by layman at leisure, […]. (Gibson 1, emphasis in the original)

When approaching the field of the philosophy of Fortune it is one man whose name inevitably comes to one’s mind: Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius. Neither the perfect Roman thinker, nor the medieval philosopher Boethius nonetheless highly contributed to both intellectual realms. With the dawn of Christianity in the fifth century A.D. the inwardly Stoic yet Christian philosopher was nonetheless the one fit for the task to unite the old Roman literacy with the formation of a new culture still in progress. As a classical philosopher Boethius had been highly influenced by Aristotle and Plato as well as by the stoic statesman Seneca and has often been considered to be the last Roman and the first medieval thinker and writer. As the originator of educational disciplines nowadays known as the septem artes liberales Boethius’ early writings were mostly of a technical or educational nature. “Nothing in these earlier works really prepares us for the surprise engendered by a reading of the Consolation […]. That book, read against the background of Boethius’ other writings, is as startling and unpredictable as his terrible end” (O’Daly 14).

Born around 480 A.D. the later Roman senator faced adoption after the death of his father, a member of one of the most aristocratic families in Italy. His adoptive father as well being an important political figure of ancient Rome, Quintus Aurelius Memmius Symmachus, whose daughter Boethius would later marry, is said to have had a considerable influence on the young man. It is his intellectual upbringing which attests most to this influence. Coined by the philosophical works of Plato and Aristotle, Boethius tried to combine both Roman and Greek thought and tradition into Latin.

In 493, when Boethius was still a boy, the ostrogothic king Theoderic became ruler of Italy; however, he solely remained king of the Ostrogoths which gave the Roman upper class the freedom to establish themselves as senior officials. Boethius himself became consul in 510 having not yet reached the age of thirty, and was announced as Master of Offices twelve years later. Shortly after Boethius’ career had reached its ultimate high, crested by the consulship of both his sons in 522, relations of the Roman senate and the Ravenna court where Theoderic stayed started to head towards a crisis. Even though he was of importance to the court and the king, Boethius found himself accused of treason and conspiracy against Theoderic and was sentenced to exile and execution. Ironically enough it would be in exile during the last years of his life that his most famous work would be composed.

Boehtius’ oeuvre is one of the most influential books of medieval times, not only because of its depiction of Fortune but also because of its effect on later literature. The Consolation itself can be considered to be at least semi-autobiographical, for the book portrays the emotional turbulence of an imprisoned character comforted only by the appearance of Lady Philosophy. Like Boethius, the prisoner became the victim of a conspiracy and is now falsely accused, which makes him doubt that human life is orderly in any sense. The second book is basically concerned with Philosophy; it sketches a general picture of Fortune and her impact on mankind. This recollection leads the prisoner to finally make a comparison of free will with providential government and the cognition that although there is no such thing as chance, things do not happen as they do necessarily.

The Consolation is composed as a mixture of prose and verse also known as Prosimetrum and poems which form a kind of dialogue between Lady Philosophy and the imprisoned.

2.3 The Consolation and Fortune

I am well acquainted with the many deceptions of that monster, Fortune. She pretends to be friendly to those she intends to cheat, and disappoints those she unexpectedly leaves with intolerable sorrow. […] You are wrong if you think that Fortune has changed toward you. This is her nature, the way she always behaves. She is changeable, and so in her relations with you, she has merely done what she always does. (Green 17f)

Already in the first few passages Boethius mentions the goddess and her influence on the fate of the imprisoned. Book I and especially book II deal extensively with Fortune, her appearance and her influence upon the prisoner; it is, therefore, the task of this chapter to analyze Boethius’ adoption and reshaping of the former Roman concept. How he transformed the pagan goddess into a topos of medieval literature.

2.3.1 Representation

Inconstant as the winds or wat’ry main,

The cruel wanton shifts the scenes of fate;

She blasts the glory of the conqu’ror’s reign,

And lifts the captive from his humble state.

The haughty dame with a malicious joy,

Deals woe around, and ne’er repents of ill;

Her ears still deaf to mis’ry’s piercing cry,

To sorrow’s tears unpitying still.

Capricious thus she sports, and boasts her power,

Her highest joy with happiness to crown

Her vot’ries blind, then sudden the next hour,

To deep despair to hurl them headlong down. (Ridpath 40)

Boethius’ Fortune is a rather Roman Fortuna at first glance. She is introduced by Philosophy as the fate-ruling goddess of antiquity equipped with all the powers and peculiarities one would know her by. She is blind or at least blindfolded and shown once more as the capricious controller of human fate. Even though she is misleadingly called divinity in some translations, she is, however, deprived of all her former cult titles in Boethius’ work, for the title deo is exclusively reserved for the Christian God himself. Being no longer a goddess she is presented as only a servant of divine providence; other than in books I and II she therefore plays no major role, although the analysis of her concept is still in progress until the end of book V. The only identifying feature left to her after her de-deification is her wheel upon which man may climb.

Her flattering and deceitful character dazzled the prisoner and led to his fall. However, as Philosophy strengthens, this has always been Fortune’s nature and she can therefore not be blamed. “If you think Fortune has changed her behaviour towards you, you are in a mistake. This is the character of the dame; it is her very nature. With respect to you, she has preserved her wonted consistency, being constant in nothing but mutability […]” (Ridpath 38). To defend this position many scholars have misleadingly suggested that Fortune herself is called to the stage in the preceding of the second Prosa in book II; however it becomes clear that it is not Fortune who appears, but rather Philosophy impersonating the goddess – “But allow me to personate Fortune for a few moments, […]” (Ridpath 40) – to confront the prisoner’s clouded mind with a more wholesome depiction of the divinity he thinks guilty of his misery.

In her own argumentation she does not only give yet another definition of her nature, but is also shown in another light apart from being capricious and controlling, which is her nature as the bearer of goods. Worldly wealth and honour derive either directly or indirectly from her and can, like her own possessions, be handled as she wishes. In other words, abundance and opulence are only human possessions sine die. “[…]: riches, honours and all other things of that nature, are subject to me, and in my power: they acknowledge me as their mistress; with me they come; and when I depart, they follow” (Ridpath 41). By only being able to provide man with worldly and therefore transitory goods absolute happiness can never be achieved, for man is never satisfied by Fortune’s gifts. The summum bonum can therefore never be gained from Fortune but can only be found in devotion to God. As the bearer of these goods Boethius’ Fortune is transformed, though being highly influenced by antiquity, into the personification of earthly caducity embedded into a divine plan; this reinterpretation paved her way into Christian medieval times.

2.3.2 Concept

What is most noticeable in this respect is that Boethius managed to combine both aspects of medieval Christian and Roman pagan in the figure of Fortune. Her characterisation and representation might mirror the tradition of antiquity; however, the concept now associated with her is truly Christian. To elaborate on this Boethius created a counterpart to the former goddess, an antagonist who would be able to explain the new role of Fortune – Philosophy: “Relentlessly, Philosophia forces the Prisoner into rethinking the entire relationship between man and Fortuna” (Frakes 35).

Though having lost her status as goddess her concept remains almost the same in medieval times. She is still known and feared for her disposal; however, the fall of man is now not dependent on her own will, for she and her wheel have simply become an implement of God. The impermanence of worldly goods as given by Fortune and the awareness of mankind of this impermanence respectively the hence resulting appreciation of other goods apart from prosperity and honour is part of God’s divine plan. With respect to this, it is Fortune ’s obligation to force mankind into introspection.

In fine, prosperous Fortune by her blandishments leads man stray from the true good; but on the other hand, adverse Fortune with her rigours teaches them wherein real happiness consists, and conducts them to it. […] She has separated the true from the false: by her departure she has carried off hers, and left yours. (Ridpath 74)

She achieves this introspection through the use of her wheel, by which she causes the reversal in man’s life. In Boethius the wheel of Fortune has already become an innate instrument of Fortune ’s action and therefore an inseparable topic of the concept of Fortune; however it is in the Consolation that a relation beyond mere attributive function is established between the goddess and her instrument. The wheel itself had formerly simply been a device to illustrate Fortune ’s inconsistent character, but by the time of Boethius it had become more than that. “By the fifth or sixth century, at any rate, the wheel was no longer thought of as independent. Boethius uses the figure of Fortune controlling it as if the idea were perfectly familiar” (Patch, The Goddess 151). The wheel itself was connected with two different meanings: firstly, the wheel had become a symbol for the objects bestowed by Fortune such as wealth and honour. Each turn of the wheel would then necessarily bring a change to man’s fortune; however, this would mean that change of fortune is absolutely subordinate to Fortune’s disposal. Yet, on the other hand, as familiar as the idea of Fortuna spinning the wheel herself, was the idea of man being involved voluntarily in this procedure of rise and fall. Although Boethius calls this submission a yoke, it is nonetheless a decision of one’s own will, which is an important thing to notice.

I turn my rolling wheel with rapidity; and please myself with exalting what was low, and with bringing down what was high. Mount up upon it then; but upon this condition, that you do not complain, if I pull you down whenever my sportive humour shall prompt me to do it. (Ridpath 41f)

The Stoic belief in man’s free will and the Christian concept of divine providence do not collide, but rather unite in the motif of Fortune. With Boethius one arrives therefore at the beginning of the two major conceptions of Lady Fortune: First of all, it is Fortune herself who is spinning the wheel and, secondly, mankind is actually on the rim which gave room for numerous literary adaptations such as Bocaccio’s formula of four and even the addition of more wheels to emphasize the effect. All in all, Boethius’ representation of Fortune herself and the transmission of her and her concept into medieval religion and art can truly be considered as the headstone not only of Fortune as a literary topos but also as the prototype of what would later be called medieval tragedy.

3. From antiquity to tragedy

When it comes to the genre of tragedy two branches immediately come to mind: the first is certainly Aristotle’s perception of tragedy, which shaped the Continental view of this sort of drama for centuries. The other is not so much influenced by some sort of technical approach but rather by how a certain poet revived what we should later perceive as tragedy – Shakespeare. However, especially the latter form of tragedy did not appear out of the blue but looks back on a long history of development, with its roots far away from blank verse and drama. The roots of medieval tragedy or to be more precise of a type of tragedy later called de casibus or tragedy of Fortune can once again be found in Boethius’ Consolatione Philosophiae.^[2] “And what else doth the weeping muse of Tragedy deplore, but the flourishing state of kingdoms overwhelmed by the indiscriminating strokes of Fortune” (Ridpath 44). This quotation is undoubtedly not the most famous definition of medieval tragedy; however, it is the first to define tragedy as a change from prosperity to adversity – as a change of fortune!

Unlike our contemporary perception of the genre tragedy, the medieval embodiment was intended to be narrated and not performed, and the tragic fall was not ascribed to the Aristotelian harmatia but to the reversal of fortune. Dante Alighieri and Giovanni Boccaccio were the first medieval poets to engage themselves in the field of medieval tragedy. While Dante’s Inferno encourages the image of a personified Christian Fortune in the sense of ancilla dei:

‘[…]: that One [God], whose wisdom knows infinity,

made all the heavens and gave each one a guide

and each sphere shining shines on all the others,

so light is spread with equal distribution,

for worldly splendors He decreed the same

and ordained a guide and general ministress

who would at her [Fortune] discretion shift the world’s

vain wealth from nation to nation, house to house,

with no chance of interference from mankind;

so while one nation rules, another falls,

according to whatever she decrees

(her sentence hidden like a snake in grass).

Your knowledge has no influence on her;

for she foresees, she judges and she rules

her kingdom as the other gods do theirs.

Her changing changes never take a rest;

necessity keeps her in constant motion,

as men come and go to take their turn with her.

And this is she so crucified and cursed;

Even those in luck who, should be praising her

Instead revile her and condemn her acts. […].’ (Alighieri 131f, my insertion)

Boccaccio does not mention Fortune as a personified divine agency at all. However, Boccaccio’s De Casibus Virorum Illustrium can nonetheless be called exempla of tragedy of Fortune, though he refrained from calling his “case histories”. Rather, he intended his biographical account of the fall of great kings and noble men to be historical exempla in the style of historia magistra vitae. Still, even if one admits that Boccaccio’s work is merely history writing, the works written in imitation of the de casibus form have adopted its implemented idea of tragedy – in association with a personified Fortune having taken the back seat. This is mainly due to Geoffrey Chaucer, who turned Boccaccio’s non-tragedies into dramatic narration. His famous definition of medieval tragedy in The Monks Tale, a story designed in the traditions of Boccaccio and Boethius, established not only the de casibus tragedy in England but really paved the way for what would later turn into Elizabethan tragedy.

In his book on John Lydgate’s Fall of Princes Nigel Mortimer comes up with the most wholesome definition of medieval tragedy in defining it as:

[...]

^[1] I chose the name Fortuna to refer to the pagan goddess whereas I will call the Christianized instrument Fortune.

^[2] In capitalizing “fortune” I intend to strengthen the relation of this kind of tragedy to the goddess.