23 “Bisclavret”
With an Introduction by Aisha Moundir and Paul Leedy
Marie de France
Introduction: The Humanity in the Inhuman in Marie de France’s “Bisclavret”
Despite the popularity of Marie de France’s works, little is known about her life. Historians and scholars alike have agreed, however, that she most likely belonged to a noble family and that she may have written for an English court. This speculation is due to the vocabulary used in her lais as well as her literary style (“Marie de France”). The content of her lais provides readers with an intimate familiarity with many noble and courtly traditions of the time, indicating that Marie de France may have time spent at court. Her speculated nobility can also be attested to by her proficiency in multiple languages: Anglo-Norman French as well as Latin.
Many of Marie de France’s works align with the supernatural, often utilizing imaginary worlds as tools for the exploration of the taboo, which can be seen through her subversion of the “damsel in distress” cliche and her exploration of the human condition via bestial transformation. Likewise, scholars have determined that most of Marie de France’s works fall into three genres of literature: Breton fable, animal fable, and spiritual voyage (Krueger 172).
Marie de France can, in a sense, be considered a deconstructionist, playing with the tropes and traditions of the early chivalric romance genre she helped to codify. She had a particular interest in the ever-popular topic of courtly love. Writers influenced by her might include Christine De Pizan, Geoffrey Chaucer, Dante Alighieri, and Thomas Malory (Mark). Her works include “St. Patrick’s Purgatory,” a translation of Aesop’s Fables , and her Lais (including two Arthurian lais).
Perhaps she is best known today for the lai Bisclavret, which, along with the Lay of Melion, stands as an important early work of werewolf fiction. However, this precursor is far removed from modern interpretations such as Werewolf of London (1935) or The Wolf Man (1941), while also being rather removed from the creature’s Proto-Indo-European or Greco-Roman roots. In her telling, there is no distinctive source of lycanthropy. Neither divine curse nor disease is used as justification for Bisclavret’s transformation, nor is he associated with any other werewolf tropes beyond the transformation itself. There is no mention of a silver vulnerability, nor full moon. Rather than a once-a-month affliction, his curse manifests for three days of the week, and he is cured by his clothes, rather than the natural passage of time. His wolf-form bears no human characteristics beyond his implied intelligence; his body is fully wolf while his mind seems to remain. He is treated sympathetically and only harms his wife who harmed him. Yet, like modern incarnations of the archetype, he transforms into a bestial state for a set amount of time.
The tale of Bisclavret is perfectly nestled between aforementioned genres of animal fable and spiritual voyage. The werewolf has long served as a symbol of the juxtaposition between man’s beastly instincts and the societal conditioning of civilized behavior. Marie de France carefully chooses the knight’s character to be her foil for this exploration of the animal fable and human spirit. Knights, especially during the medieval period, were well-respected and highly regarded members of society. They represented the best of men- chivalrous, brave, noble, daring, and often handsome. Within the text itself, it is stated that the knight is a good and noble man, revered by the people and the kingdom in which he serves. Through the creature, bisclavret, the knight can explore his animalistic side, free from societal confines and the necessity to act in a professional manner. Despite the knight’s transformation, Marie de France does not indicate that his werewolf form is any more violent than his human one. When the werewolf does lash out in violence, this is described as out of character for the creature, emphasizing the knight’s retention of his humanity. Throughout the lai, Marie de France switches between the proper noun, “Bisclavret”, and the common noun, “bisclavret.” The difference in the nouns used distinguishes the knight from the creature he turns into. This distinction also allows for a further humanization of the werewolf, as he was man before he was ever beast.
“Bisclavret”
In crafting lays, I won’t forget
—I musn’t—that of Bisclavret;
Bisclavret: so named in Breton;
But Garwaf in the Norman tongue.
One used to hear, in times gone by
—it often happened, actually—
men became werewolves, many men,
and in the forest made their den.
A werewolf is a savage beast;[1]
in his blood-rage, he makes a feast
of men, devours them, does great harms,
and in vast forests lives and roams.
Well, for now, let us leave all that;
I want to speak of Bisclavret.
In Brittany there lived a lord
—wondrous, the praise of him I’ve heard—
a good knight, handsome, known to be
all that makes for nobility.
Prized, he was, much, by his liege lord;
by all his neighbors was adored.
He’d wed a wife, a worthy soul,
most elegant and beautiful;
he loved her, and she loved him, too.
One thing she found most vexing, though.
During the week he’d disappear
for three whole days, she knew not where;
what happened to him, where he went.
His household, too, was ignorant.
He returned home again one day;
high-spirited and happy. She
straightaway proceeded to inquire:
“My fair sweet friend,” she said, “fair sire,
if I just dared, I’d ask of you
a thing I dearly wish to know,
except that I’m so full of fear
of your great anger, husband dear.”
When he had heard this, he embraced her,
drew her to him, clasped and kissed her.
“Lady,” he said, “come, ask away!
Nothing you wish, dear, certainly
I will not tell you, that I know.”
“Faith!” she said. “you have cured me so!
But I have such anxiety,
sire, on those days you part from me,
my heart is full of pain. I fear
so much that I will lose you, dear.
Oh, reassure me, hastily!
If you do not, I soon will die.
Tell me, dear husband: tell me, pray,
What do you do? Where do you stay?
It seems to me you’ve found another!
You wrong me, if you have a lover!”
“Lady,” he said, “have mercy, do!
I’ll have much harm in telling you.
I’d lose your love, if I should tell
and be lost to myself, as well.”
Now when the wife was thus addressed,
It seemed to her to be no jest.
oftimes she begged, with all her skill,
coaxing and flattering, until
at last he told her all he did,
the tale entire; kept nothing hid.
“Dame, I become a bisclavret.
in the great forest I’m afoot,
in deepest woods, near thickest trees,
and live on prey I track and seize.”
When he had told the whole affair,
she persevered; she asked him where
his clothes were; was he naked there?
“Lady,” he said, “I go all bare.”
“Tell me, for God’s sake, where you put
your clothes!”
“Oh, I’ll not tell you that:
I would be lost, you must believe,
if it were seen just how I live.
Bisclavret would I be, forever;
never could I be helped then, never,
till I got back my clothes, my own;
that’s why their cache must not be known.”
“Sire,” said his lady in reply,
“more than all earth I love you. Why
hide, why have secrets in your life?
Why, why mistrust your own dear wife?
That does not seem a loving thought.
What have I done? What sin, what fault
has caused your fear, in any way?
You must be fair! You have to say!”
So she harassed and harried him
so much, he finally gave in.
“Lady,” he said, “just by the wood,
just where I enter, by the road,
there’s an old chapel. Now, this place
has often brought me help and grace.
There is a stone there, in the brush,
hollow and wide, beneath a bush.
In brush and under bush, I store
my clothes[2], till I head home once more.”
The lady was amazed to hear:
She blushed deep red, from her pure fear.
Terror, she felt, at this strange tale.
She thought what means she could avail
herself of how to leave this man.
She could not lie with him again.
In these parts lived a chevalier
who had long been in love with her.
Much did he pray and sue, and give
largesse in service to his love;
she had not loved him, nor had she
granted him any surety
that she, too, loved; but now she sent
this knight the news of her intent.
“Friend,” she wrote him, “rejoice, and know
that for which you have suffered so,
I grant you now without delay;
I’ll not hold back in any way.
My body and my love I grant;
make me your mistress, if you want!”
Kindly he thanked her, and her troth
accepted; she received his oath.
She told her lover how her lord
went to the wood, and what he did,
what he became, once he was there.
She told in detail how and where
to find the road and clothing cache;
and then she sent him for the stash.
Thus was Bisclavret trapped for life;
ruined, betrayed, by his own wife.
Because his absences were known,
people assumed he’d really gone,
this time, for good. They searched around,
enough, but he could not be found,
for all their inquiries. At last
everyone let the matter rest.
The lady wed the chevalier
who’d been so long in love with her.
A whole year, after this event,
thus passed. The king went out to hunt,
went to the forest straightaway,
there where the bisclavret now lay.
The hunting dogs were now unleashed
and soon they found the changeling beast.
All day they flung themselves at him,
all day pursued, both dogs and men;
they almost had him. Now they’d rend
and tear him; now he’d meet his end.
His eye, distinguishing, could see
the king; to beg his clemency
he seized the royal stirrup, put
a kiss upon the leg and foot.
The king, observing, felt great fear.
Calling his men, he cried, “Come here!”
“Lords!” he said, “Come and look at this!
See what a marvel is this kiss,
this humble, gracious gesturing!
That’s a man’s mind; it begs the king
for mercy. Now, drive back the hounds!
See that none strike or give it wounds
This beast has mind; it has intent[3].
Come, hurry up! It’s time we went.
I’ll give protection for this beast.
And for today, the hunt has ceased.”
The king had turned around, at that;
following him, the bisclavret
close by; he would not lose the king,
abandon him, for anything.
The king then led the beast, to bring
it to the castle, marvelling,
rejoicing at it, for he’d never,
seen such a wondrous creature, ever.
He loved the wolf and held it dear
and he charged every follower
that, for his love, they guard it well
and not mistreat the animal.
No one must strike it; and, he’d said,
it must be watered and well fed.
Gladly his men now guarded it.
Among the knights, the bisclavret
now lived, and slept close by the king;
everyone loved it, cherishing
its noble bearing and its charm.
It never wanted to do harm,
and where the king might walk or ride,
there it must be, just at his side,
wherever he might go or move;
so well it showed its loyal love.
What happened after that? Now, hear.
The king held court; he had appear
all barons, vassals; gave commands
to all who held from him their lands,
to help a festival take place,
serving with elegance and grace.
Among those chevaliers was he
—so richly dressed, so splendidly!—
who’d wed the wife of Bisclavret.
Little he knew or thought just yet
that he would find his foe so near!
Soon as he came, this chevalier,
to court, and Bisclavret could see
the man, he ran up furiously,
sank in his teeth, and dragged him close.
Many the injuries and woes
he would have suffered, but the king
called out commands, while brandishing
his staff. The beast rushed, twice, that day,
to bite the man; all felt dismay,
for none had seen the beast display
toward anyone, in any way,
such viciousness. There must be reason,
the household said, for him to seize on
the knight, who must have done him wrong;
the wish for vengeance seemed so strong.
And so they let the matter rest
till the conclusion of the feast.
The barons took their leave, each one,
each to his castle and his home.
All my good judgment counsels me
he who was first to leave was he
set upon by the bisclavret.
Small wonder the beast had such hate!
Not too long after this occurred
—such is my thought, so I have heard—
into the forest went the king
—so noble and so wise a being—
where he’d first found the bisclavret.
The animal was with him yet.
The night of this return, the king
took, in this countryside, lodging.
And this the wife of Bisclavret
well knew. Dressed fetchingly, she set
out to have speech with him next day;
rich gifts were part of her display.
Bisclavret saw her come. No man
had strength to hold him as he ran
up to his wife in rage and fury.
Hear of his vengeance! Hear the story!
He tore her nose off, then and there[4].
What worse could he have done to her?
From all sides now, and full of threat
Men ran and would have killed him, but
a wise man expeditiously
spoke to the king. “Listen to me!
He’s been with you, this animal;
there is not one man of us all
who has not, long since, had to see
and travel with him, frequently,
and he has harmed no one, not once
shown viciousness nor violence
save just now, as you saw him do.
And by the faith I owe to you,
he has some bitter quarrel with her
and with her husband, her seigneur.
She was wife to that chevalier
whom you so prized, and held so dear,
who disappeared some time ago.
What happened, no one seems to know.
Put her to torture. She may state
something, this dame, to indicate
why the beast feels for her such hate.
Force her to speak! She’ll tell it straight.
We’ve all known marvels, chanced to see
strange events, here in Brittany.”
The King thought this advice was fair;
and he detained the chevalier.
The lady, too, he held; and she
he put to pain and agony.
Part out of pain, part out of fear,
she made her former lord’s case clear:
how she managed to betray
her lord, and take his clothes away;
the story he had told to her,
what he became, and how, and where;
and how, when once his clothes were gone
—stolen—he was not seen again.
She gave her theory and her thought:
Surely this beast was Bisclavret.
These spoils, these clothes, the king demanded;
whether she would or no, commanded
that she go back and find them, get
and give them to the bisclavret.
When they were put in front of him
he didn’t seem to notice them.
The king’s wise man spoke up once more
—the one who’d counselled him before—
“Fair sire, this will not do at all!
We can’t expect this animal,
in front of you, sire, to get dressed
and change his semblance of a beast.
You don’t grasp what this means, my king!
—or see his shame and suffering.
Into your rom have led this beast;
with him, his clothes. Let him get dressed;
For quite some time, leave him alone.
If he’s a man, that is soon known!”
The king himself led the bisclavret;
and on him all the doors were shut.
They waited. And then finally
two barons, with the king, all three,
entered. What a discovery!
There on the king’s bed, they could see
asleep, the knight. How the king ran
up to the bed, to embrace his man,
kiss him, a hundred times and more!
Quickly he acted to restore
his lands, as soon as possible;
more he bestowed than I can tell.
His wife was banished. She was chased
out of the country, and disgraced,
and chased out, travelling with her,
her mate and co-conspirator.
Quite a few children had this dame,
who in their way achieved some fame
for looks, for a distinctive face;
numbers of women of her race
—it’s true—were born without a nose.
Noseless they lived, the story goes.
And this same story you have heard
truly occurred; don’t doubt my word.
I made this lai of Bisclavret
so no one, ever will forget.
Works Cited:
Bisclavret by Marie de France is taken from the Early British Literature Anthology, Anglo-Saxon Period to Eighteenth Century edited by Joy Pasini, Ph.D.
Cohen, Jeffrey. “The Werewolf’s Indifference.” Studies in the Age of Chaucer, vol. 34, 2012, pp. 351-356. EBSCO, https://doi.org/10.1353/sac.2012.0024.
“Marie de France.” Encyclopedia of World Biography, 2nd ed., vol. 10, Gale, 2004, p. 259. Gale eBooks, link.gale.com/apps/doc/CX3404704214/GVRL?u=psucic&sid=bookmark-GVRL&xid=3a801bbd. Accessed 17 Apr. 2025.
Mark, Joshua. “Marie De France.” World History, 6 Apr. 2019, www.worldhistory.org/Marie_de_France/. Accessed 10 Dec. 2023.
“Savage, Adj., Sense I.1.” Oxford English Dictionary, Oxford UP, March 2025, https://doi.org/10.1093/OED/3021507726.
Schneider, Thomas R. “The Chivalric Masculinity of Marie de France’s Shape-Changers.” Arthuriana, vol. 26, no. 3, 2016, pp. 25–40. JSTOR, jstor.org/stable/26443642. Accessed 5 May 2025.
Shyovitz, David I. “Christians and Jews in the Twelfth-Century Werewolf Renaissance.” Journal of the History of Ideas, vol. 75, no. 4, 2014, pp. 521–43. JSTOR, jstor.org/stable/43289684. Accessed 5 May 2025.
Whitacre, Andrea. “The Body That Is Not One: Overclothing as Bodily Transformation in Topographia Hibernica.” Essays in Medieval Studies, vol. 34, 2018, p. 99-112. Project MUSE, https://dx.doi.org/10.1353/ems.2018.0008.
Wright, Monica L. “Material Marie: The Power of Textiles in the Lais.” Le Cygne, vol. 3, 2016, pp. 39–52. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/26392839. Accessed 5 May 2025.
How to Cite this Chapter:
de France, Marie. “Bisclavret.” Transatlantic Literature and Premodern Worlds, edited by Marissa Nicosia, et al., Pressbooks, 2025. https://psu.pb.unizin.org/opentransatlanticlit/chapter/bisclavret/
Moundir, Aisha, and Paul Leedy. “The Humanity in the Inhuman in Marie de France’s “Bisclavret.” Transatlantic Literature and Premodern Worlds, edited by Marissa Nicosia, et al., Pressbooks, 2025. https://psu.pb.unizin.org/opentransatlanticlit/chapter/bisclavret/
- Marie de France begins her description of werewolves in alignment with the popular etymology of the supernatural creatures. During the medieval period, a belief in the supernatural was common, particularly lycanthropy- the belief in werewolves (Gilbert). Savage, when used during the twelfth century, meant “a wild, undomesticated, untamed animal” (“Savage”). The knight’s bestial transformation into a werewolf was thought to deprive man of his humanity, turning him into something completely inhuman. David Shyovitz writes, “In this view, monsters are ‘specular objects’ - the monstrous creatures that surface in particular historical contexts serve as lenses that reveal the key beliefs, values, and anxieties of the cultures in which they were generated” (522). Through the story, de France is using monstrous transformation as fodder for the exploration of the society at large. Despite the nature of werewolves as “savage,” Marie de France immediately defies that notion with the character of Bisclavret. The process of Bisclavret’s transformation is one founded on solitude. For both the protection of himself and his wife, Bisclavret spends his three days of transformation in the forest, completely cut off from human society. Rather than rampaging through Brittany or other nearby towns, the knight stays hidden in the forest, surviving on prey. Jeffrey Cohen’s essay, “The Werewolf’s Indifference,” contemplates this same contrast of the werewolf's savage nature with the knight’s gentleness. Cohen states, “What matters is that, unlike the opening gloss, no invitation is extended to consider brutality against specific bodies” (354). Marie de France gives no notion that his secondary form is vicious; rather, she explicitly confirms the passivity of the creature later in the text. ↵
- When discussing bestial transformation, it is important to recognize the significance of clothing. Monica L. Wright explains that in Marie de France’s lais at large, clothing is used a form of comfort that protects characters from the world around them (Wright 50). But in “Bisclavret,” the knight retains his connection to his humanity and his physical human form through his clothing. By storing his clothing somewhere safe and hidden, such as an abandoned chapel, he can guarantee his successful transformation from werewolf to man. His clothing is a protective layer, a “symbolic artifact,” representing the dynamics of beast versus man (Frese 189). In the article, “The Body That Is Not One: Overclothing as Bodily Transformation in Topographia Hibernica,” Andrea Whitacre states, “...appearance can change or seem to change, but the true body and identity within must remain stable” (100). In the text, the knight is hesitant to inform his wife of this hiding place out of fear that his transformation may be compromised should she disturb his clothes. These fears are validated later on in the text, as his wife’s new lover removes the knight’s clothes from their place, effectively trapping the knight as a bisclavret. As part of his wife’s punishment for betraying him, she must retrieve the knight’s clothes and return them to the King’s court. When she does, the bisclavret is hesitant to change back. Despite being a beast, Bisclavret is also a human who desires privacy and does not want to compromise his dignity for the sake of transforming back into a man (Gilbert). ↵
- As the king states, Bisclavret is fully cognizant of the space he occupies as both knight and beast. His intellect allows him to plead with the king. As well as keen sensibilities, Bisclavret also displays the incredible amount of gentleness that distinguishes him as an anomaly amongst his kind, proving that if one were to “unzip the wolf skin” one would discover “the human who had always been dwelling inside” (Cohen 355). His status as a knight also put him at an advantage here, as he was familiar with the court systems and the proper way to address royalty. This good behavior is enough to impress the king, who chooses to spare the werewolf’s life. The two eventually form a close bond, highlighting the value of the relationship between dog and man, as well as paralleling the trust between the knight and the monarchy in which he serves. ↵
- Marie de France’s depiction of marriage and women within this lai serves as commentary on the relationship between masculinity and the treatment of women. Through the knight, Marie de France captures the relationship between a man’s masculinity and the freedom he receives from the indulgence of his animal instincts. Through Bisclavret’s wife, Marie de France explores the consequences that women face at the hands of masculinity and violence (Schneider). The history of werewolves has roots in male violence, as most historical depictions of these creatures were male (Schneider 32). Marie de France subverts the common medieval literary trend of women as shapeshifters by utilizing a knight-turned-werewolf in her lai. During the twelfth century, women were depicted, both in literature and in the real world, as physically and mentally inconsistent, making them fodder for changeability within the supernatural literary genre (Scheider 27). Despite the knight being the one to change form, his wife is also subject to this change, and due to the medieval fear of the supernatural, she betrays their marriage and traps her husband as a bisclavret. Upon reunion with his wife, the bisclavret attacks and disfigures her. While this disfigurement may seem justified, it is also a commentary on the perpetrated violence against women. The wounds he inflicts on his wife are not just consequences for her alone to deal with, but ones her offspring will face, too. However, these ramifications do not seem to affect the chevalier, the interloper in the knight’s marriage, despite his equal participation in the plot against Bisclavret. Through the wife and the chevalier, Marie de France uses her characters to emphasize the disparities in treatment between men and women who commit the same misdeeds, exposing a double standard. ↵
