In which we once again find our Idiosopher using insanely-powerful Internet research tools for frivolous ends.

A while back, Prof. Emily Steiner, who seems to be familiar with every medieval manuscript that’s survived to the modern era, tweeted an image of what she asserted to be a debate between a cockatrice and a wyvern.  It’s a snippet from Brunetto Latini, Livre du Trésor (1230?-1294). Manuscript BnF Fr 568, folio 48v (available via Gallica).

I can’t resist reading the captions on medieval illuminations, just to see if I can. The red letters looked to me like “De toutes maines de serpens”. Obviously this means “Concerning all kinds of serpents”, except for the word “maines”– what’s that?

all manner of serpents

“Why did it have to be snakes?” – Prof. Henry Jones, Jr.

I consulted the Dictionary of medieval French, and found definition 2 for “maine” is “manière, espèce”, with a citation to Le Roman de Tristan. So, fine. [1] But there’s one thing I overlooked:  that red curlicue over top of the word I’m puzzling over is a scribal abbreviation. After a couple of us got ourselves confused, Prof. Steiner let us know it stands for “re”, and the pen-strokes I read as “in” are actually “ni”. Properly read, that word is actually “manière” itself, and it hasn’t changed in 800 years.

That implies a nuance that hadn’t occurred to me about the lexicographer’s art: the scholar who wrote the dictionary included a word he knew didn’t exist and wasn’t used, just because it’s easy for students to read it that way in the text.  Awfully considerate of him.

[1] The Romance of Tristan is attributed to an author called Béroul, about whom nothing is known. The manuscript is in poor condition. The dictionary tells me the word “maine” is used in the phrase “male maine”, meaning intransigence or evil will, not bad manners. I tried to find the word in the manuscript, but failed. Maybe it’s underneath one of the coffee spills.