The garden was nigh broad as wide, And every angle duly squared;
Such skilful art Had planned the trees that each apart Six fathoms stood, yet like a net The interlacing branches met;
and how “channelled brooks” flowed from clear fountains through “thymy herbage and gay flowers.”
The debt which the mediæval world owed to the East is shown both in the fruits and the spices which are described as growing in the garden, and in the pastimes said to have been enjoyed in its cool shade. We read of pomegranates, nutmegs, almonds, dates, figs, liquorice, aniseed, cinnamon, and zedoary, an Eastern plant used as a stimulant. When the poet would tell of dance and song, he goes by
A shaded pathway, where my feet, Bruised mint and fennel savouring sweet,
to a secluded lawn. Here he sees one whose name is “Gladness”:
Gently swaying, rose and fell Her supple form, the while her feet Kept measured time with perfect beat:
While minstrels sang, the tambourine Kept with the flute due time I ween.
Then saw I cunning jugglers play, And girls cast tambourines away Aloft in air, then gaily trip Beneath them, and on finger-tip Catch them again.
In every garden there was a fountain or sheet of water with a small channelled way carrying the water to the castle and through the women’s apartment. Sometimes these waterways were made use of by the lover as a means of communication with his beloved, as we read in the romance of _Tristan and Isolde_, where Tristan, to apprise his mistress that he is at their trysting-place in the garden, drops into the water small pieces of bark and twigs, which are quickly carried to the chamber where Isolde is waiting and watching. And one eventide a perilous encounter befalls. Tristan has been banished the Court, for evil tongues have whispered in King Mark’s ear of his love for Isolde, and have further whispered of secret meetings in the garden, beside the fountain. Now near the fountain is a pine-tree, into which King Mark resolves to climb, and perchance to discover the meeting of the lovers. As daylight fades, Tristan scales the wall, and hastens to throw into the water the little signals for his lady. But as he stoops over the pool he sees, reflected in its clear surface, the image of the king, with bow ready bent. Can he stop the floating twigs as they are hurried along on their mission? No. The water carries them away out of sight, and Isolde must come. She comes, but Tristan does not go to meet her as was his wont, but remains standing by the water. She wonders at her lover’s seeming unconcern, but as she approaches him, suddenly, in the bright moonlight, she, too, sees in the water the reflection of the king, and the lovers are saved.