The Romaunce of the Sowdone of Babylone and of Ferumbras His Sone Who Conquerede Rome — A Closer Reading

The Soudan’s Council: A Shift in Narrative Rhythm

The excerpt from lines 1740–1780 reveals a deliberate change in pace. The Soudan’s complaint—“He brennyth my Toures and my Citees, / And Burges he levethe me never oo”—is delivered in a measured, lamenting tone, with each line end-stopped. But when Sortibrance responds, the verse quickens with imperative verbs: “Take xij knightis … and sende hem to Charles.” The rhythm becomes more urgent, mirroring the escalation of threat. The Soudan’s oath “by Mahounde” and his vow to hang Ferumbras “as hye, as any shippes maste” inject a visceral, almost physical speed into the stanza. This alternation between deliberation and outburst is a hallmark of the poem’s narrative technique.

Charlemagne’s Forced Dispatch: Repetition and Rising Tension

In the earlier passage (lines 1692–1736), Charlemagne’s wrath is rendered through a repetitive structure: each baron who objects is ordered to go, with the king’s commands growing more terse. “Go thou forth in this same rees” and “Dresse the forth with he eke” create a staccato rhythm, while the barons’ pleas are longer and more varied. Bishop Turpin’s kneeling and plea—“lege lorde, mercy!”—contrasts with the king’s swift, almost mechanical response: “Thou goist eke, make the in hast redye!” The repetition of “go” and “shalte” across multiple stanzas builds tension, as the reader senses the inevitability of the mission. The narrator then abruptly shifts focus: “Owe let hem passe in goddis name, / And speke we of the Sowdo.” This direct address to the audience marks a clear break in pace, signaling a new scene.

Editorial Framing and the Poem’s Historical Voice

Hausknecht’s introduction, written in formal Victorian prose, contrasts sharply with the poem’s colloquial Middle English. He describes Charlemagne as “the great and valiant champion of Christendom,” a phrase that echoes the romance’s own heroic register. Yet his scholarly apparatus—notes, glossary, and source comparisons—imposes a slower, analytical pace on the reader. The poem itself, with its frequent use of direct speech and formulaic lines like “Thay toke here lefe and forth thay yede,” moves quickly, often skipping over travel or time. Hausknecht’s footnotes, however, pause to explain dialect forms or historical references, creating a dual reading experience: the swift narrative of the romance and the deliberate commentary of the editor.

Readers attentive to shifts in pace will notice how the poem uses direct speech to control tempo, slowing for council debates and accelerating for threats or commands. The editor’s notes provide a counter-rhythm, inviting reflection on the poem’s sources and language. This edition rewards those who read both the verse and the apparatus, observing how a medieval romance can be both swift and deliberate.

Reading the editor’s notes on the Soudan’s council, I found myself pausing over how slowly those pressures mount, how choices harden into consequence. It felt familiar, that weight of obligation disguised as command. Later I thought of Spenser’s quieter moments, where similar forces drift through allegory like weather. I reached for The Faerie Queene — Volume 01 — A Reader’s Guide, and the afternoon softened around me, almost like remembering.