Arthurian Romances

by Chretien de Troyes

  This gate was very high and wide, but had such a narrow entry-way that two men or two horses could not pass through together or meet one another in the gate without crowding or great difficulty; for it was built just like the trap that awaits the rat on its furtive scavenging: it had a blade poised above, ready to fall, strike, and pin, and triggered to be released and to fall at the slightest touch. Similarly, beneath the gate were two fulcrums connected to a portcullis above of sharp, cutting iron;6 if anything stepped on these devices, the portcullis overhead dropped and whoever was struck by the gate would be slashed entirely to pieces. And, precisely in the middle, the passage-way was as narrow as a forest trail.

  The knight skilfully manoeuvred his way along this narrow path, and my lord Yvain hurtled on madly at full speed after him. He was so near to catching him that he had seized hold of his back saddlebow; it was fortunate for him that he had stretched forward, for had he not been so lucky he would have been split apart, because his horse tripped the beam that supported the iron portcullis. Just like the devil out of hell, the door came crashing down, striking the saddle and horse behind, and slicing them both in half. But, thank God, it didn’t touch my lord Yvain, except that as it came slicing down his back it cut off both his spurs right at his heels, and he fell down stunned. The other knight, fatally wounded, escaped him in this way.

  There was another gate at the back like the one in front; as the fleeing knight raced through the gate, a second portcullis fell closed behind him. Thus was my lord Yvain trapped. Very surprised and discomfited, he remained locked within the hall, whose ceiling was studded with gilded bosses and whose walls were painted masterfully in the richest colours. But nothing troubled him more than not knowing where the knight had gone.

  While he was in his misery he heard the narrow door of a tiny room beside him open and he saw a damsel with an attractive body and fair face approaching, who closed the door after her. When she discovered my lord Yvain, she was dismayed at first.

  ‘Indeed, sir knight,’ said she, ‘I’m afraid you’re not welcome. If you’re found in here you’ll be torn to pieces, for my lord is mortally wounded and I’m certain that you have slain him. My lady is grieving so deeply and her people are weeping around her so much that they are on the point of killing themselves for grief. They know that you are in here, but their grief is so great that at present they can think of nothing else. Yet when they are ready to kill or capture you, they’ll not fail to do so as soon as they decide to assail you.’

  And my lord Yvain answered her: ‘If it pleases God, they will never kill me, nor will I ever be captured by them.’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘for I will do everything in my power to assist you. A man is not brave if he is too easily frightened; but since you’ve not been too frightened, I believe you are a brave man. Rest assured that, if I am able, I will do you service and honour, for you have already done as much for me. Once my lady sent me with a message to the king’s court. Perhaps I was not as prudent or courteous or correct as a maiden should be, but there was not a knight there who deigned to speak a single word to me, except you alone, standing here now. But you, to your great credit, honoured and served me there; for the honour that you paid me then I’ll now give you the recompense. I know your name well and recognized you at once: you are the son of King Urien and are named my lord Yvain. Now you may be confident and certain that if you trust in me you will never be captured or harmed. Take this little ring of mine and, if you please, return it to me after I have freed you.’

  Then she gave him the little ring and told him that its effect was like that of bark on wood, which covers it so it cannot be seen. The ring must be worn with the stone clasped within the palm; then whoever is wearing the ring on his finger need have no fear of anything, for no one no matter how wide open his eyes could ever see him, any more than he could see the wood with the bark growing over it. This pleased my lord Yvain. And after she told him this, she led him to sit upon a bed covered with such a costly quilt that the Duke of Austria didn’t have its equal. She told him that if he liked she would bring him something to eat, and he said that this would please him. The damsel ran swiftly to her room and returned at once bearing a roast capon and a full jug of good vintage wine, all covered with a white linen. And so she served him gladly and provided him with something to eat; and he, who really needed this, ate and drank very gladly.

  By the time he had eaten and drunk, the knights were milling about outside and searching for him, because they wished to avenge their lord, who by now had been placed in his bier. The damsel said to Yvain: ‘Friend, do you hear them all looking for you? There’s a lot of noise and commotion; but, no matter who comes or goes, don’t move on account of their noise, for you’ll never be found if you don’t stir from this bed. Soon you’ll see this room full of hostile and troublesome people who expect to find you here. And I believe they’ll carry the body through here for burial; they’ll start to look for you under benches and beds. To a man who is unafraid it will be an amusing sport to see people so blinded; for they’ll all be so blinded, so confused, and so deceived that they’ll be beside themselves with rage. I have nothing more to tell you, and I don’t dare stay here any longer. But praise God for having given me the time and opportunity to do something to please you, for I was most eager to do so.’

  Then she set off on her way and, as soon as she had departed, the people began to gather at the gates on both sides, with clubs and swords in hand; there was a dense crowd and great surge of cruel and hostile people. They saw the half of the horse that had been sliced in two lying before the gate; this convinced them that when the doors were opened, they would find inside there the one they were seeking to kill. Then they had the portcullis, which had been the death of many people, hauled up; but they did not reset the snares or traps, and everyone entered abreast. At the threshold they found the other half of the horse that had been slain, but not a single one of them had an eye keen enough to see my lord Yvain, whom they would gladly have killed.

  Yet he saw them going mad with rage and anger, saying: ‘How can this be? There’s no door or window in here through which anything could escape, unless it were a bird and flew, or a squirrel or marmot or other beast as small as that or smaller, because the windows are barred and both gates were closed after my lord escaped through them. The body, dead or alive, has to be in here, since it isn’t outside! More than half the saddle is inside here, as we clearly see, yet we find no trace of him except the severed spurs that fell from his feet. Now let’s search every corner and desist from this idle talk. I think he must still be in here; or else we’re all bewitched, or the devils have stolen him from us!’

  Driven by anger, they all sought for him within the room, striking upon the walls and the beds and benches; but the bed where Yvain was lying was passed over and spared, and he was not hurt or touched. They struck all around it and made a tremendous uproar with their clubs throughout the room, like a blind man who taps along as he looks for something.

  While they were upending beds and stools, there entered one of the most beautiful women ever seen by human eye – such an exceptionally beautiful lady has never before been reported or told of. But she was so crazed with grief that she was on the verge of killing herself. All at once she cried out as loudly as she could and fell down in a faint. When she was lifted back to her feet, she began clawing at herself and tearing out her hair like a madwoman; her hands grabbed and ripped her clothing and she fainted with every step. Nothing could comfort her, for she could see her lord dead in the coffin being carried in front of her. She felt she could never be comforted again, and so she cried out at the top of her voice. Holy water, crosses, and candles were carried in by nuns from a convent, along with missals and censers; then came priests who were charged with seeking solemn absolution for the object of that poor soul’s thoughts.

  My lord Yvain heard the indescribable cries and moanings, which surpassed all words and could never be recorded in a book. The proce
ssion passed on, but in the middle of the room there was a great commotion around the coffin, for warm blood, clear and red, was flowing again from the dead man’s wound. This was taken as proof positive that the knight who had done battle with him and who had defeated and killed him was undoubtedly still inside the hall. Then they searched and looked everywhere, overturning and moving everything, until they were all in a sweat from the great anguish and turmoil they felt on seeing the red blood that had dripped out before them. My lord Yvain was repeatedly struck and jostled there where he lay, but he never moved for all that. And the more the wounds bled, the more frenzied the people became; and they wondered why they bled when they could not find the cause.

  And each and every one of them declared: ‘Among us is the one who killed him, yet we can’t see him at all; this is a wondrous and devilish thing!’

  Because of this the lady was so grief-stricken that she quite lost her mind and cried out as if she were mad: ‘Ah! My God! Will they never find the murderer, the traitor who has killed my good husband? Good? Indeed, the best of the good! True God, You will be to blame if You let him escape from here; I should blame no one but You, for You have stolen him from my sight. Such violence has never been seen nor such despicable wrong as You do me by refusing even to let me see the man who is so near to me. Since I cannot see him, I can affirm that either a phantom or a devil has come among us here, and I am completely bewitched. Or else he is a coward and afraid of me. He is a coward to fear me: it is great cowardice that keeps him from daring to show himself before me. Ah! Phantom, cowardly creature! Why are you afraid of me when you were so bold in front of my husband? Empty and elusive creature, if only I had you in my power! Why can’t I get you in my grasp? Yet how did you manage to kill my husband, if it wasn’t through deceit? Truly my husband would never have been defeated by you had he been able to see you, for no one in the world was his equal – neither God nor man knew his equal, and none like him remain. To be sure, had you been a mortal man you would never have dared attack my husband, for no one could compare with him.’

  Thus the lady argued within herself; thus she struggled alone; thus she confounded herself. And her people likewise were so sad that it was impossible to grieve more. They carried the body away to bury it. After having expended so much effort looking for Yvain, they grew weary from the search and finally gave up from fatigue, for they could find no one in the least suspicious.

  Meanwhile the nuns and priests had finished the entire service; the people left the church and came to the place of burial. But the maiden from the chamber had no desire to accompany them; she remembered my lord Yvain, returned quickly to him, and said: ‘Good sir, there’s been a great crowd of these people in here. They rummaged through here a lot and delved into every corner more persistently than a hound on the scent of partridge or quail. No doubt you were afraid.’

  ‘Upon my word,’ he answered, ‘you’re right! I never thought I’d be so afraid. Yet now, if it’s possible, I should like to look out through some window or tiny opening and watch the procession and the corpse.’

  But it was not the corpse or the funeral procession he was interested in, and he would gladly have consigned them to the fire, even had it cost him a hundred marks. A hundred marks? Indeed, more than a hundred thousand. No, he had only said this because he wished to see the lady of the town. The damsel placed him before a little window, thereby repaying him as best she could for the honour he had once done her.

  Through this window my lord Yvain observed the beautiful lady, who was saying: ‘Good sir, may God have mercy on your soul, for I firmly believe that no knight who ever mounted a horse could compare with you in any way. My dear husband, no knight ever equalled you in honour or in companionship; generosity was your friend and boldness your companion. May your soul join the company of the saints, dear good husband!’

  Then she ripped at her clothing, tearing whatever came into her hands. Only with great difficulty did my lord Yvain restrain himself from running to seize her hands. But the damsel, with courtesy and graciousness, besought and begged and ordered and warned him not to do anything foolish.

  ‘You are well off here,’ she said. ‘Be careful not to move for any reason until this grief is abated; let these people leave first, for they will soon depart. If you heed my advice as I urge you to heed it, great good may come to you from it. You can stay here and watch the people coming and going as they pass through this way; no one can possibly see you and you will be at a great advantage. So refrain from speaking rashly, for someone who rants and raves and exerts himself to rash acts whenever he has the time and opportunity, I consider more foolish than brave. Though you may be thinking of folly, be careful to refrain from doing it. The wise man conceals his foolish thoughts and, if he can, puts wisdom to work. Act sensibly now and be careful not to leave your head as hostage, for they would accept no ransom. Watch out for yourself and remember my advice; stay still until I return. I dare not remain here any longer, because if I stay too long they’d begin to suspect me when they didn’t see me in the crowd with the others, and I’d pay dearly for it.’

  With that she departed and Yvain remained, not knowing what to do. He was upset to see them burying the body, since he now had no way of proving that he had killed the knight. If he did not have some proof to show in the assembly, he would be thoroughly shamed. Kay was so wicked and provocative, so full of insults and mockery, that he would never relinquish but would keep hurling insults and taunts at him, just as he had the other day. The wicked taunts are still rankling and fresh within him. But New Love has sweetened him with her sugar and honeycomb, and has made a foray into his lands where she has captured her prey: Yvain’s enemy has led away his heart, and he loves the creature who most hates him. The lady, although she does not know it, has fully avenged the death of her husband: she has taken greater vengeance than she could ever have thought possible had Love herself not avenged her by striking Yvain such a gentle blow through the eyes into the heart. The effects of this blow are more enduring than those from lance or sword: a sword blow is healed and cured as soon as a doctor sees to it; but the wound of Love grows worse when it is nearest to its doctor.

  My lord Yvain has suffered this wound from which he’ll never be healed, for Love has completely overwhelmed him. Lady Love has removed herself from all those diverse places where her concerns were scattered: she wants no host or lodging except him, and indeed she behaves nobly by withdrawing from base places in order to give herself entirely to him. I don’t believe that even a small hint of love remained elsewhere: she had ransacked all those lowly lodgings. It’s a great shame that Love behaves like that and acts so badly by accepting lodging in the lowliest place she can find just as willingly as she would in the best. Now, however, she is housed well; here she will be held in honour and here it is good for her to stay. This is the way Love should behave, being such a noble thing; it’s a wonder she dared shame herself by descending to such base places. She behaves like someone who pours out her balm on the ashes and dust, who hates honour and loves baseness, who mingles soot with honey, and mixes sugar with gall. But this time Love has not done so: she has taken lodging in freehold land, for which no one can reproach her.

  After they had buried the knight all the people departed; neither priest, knight, retainer, nor lady remained behind, except she who could not hide her grief. She remained all alone, frequently grasping her throat, wringing her hands and striking her palms, as she read her psalms from a psalter illuminated with gilded letters. And my lord Yvain was still at the window observing her; and the more he watched her, the more he loved her and the more she pleased him. He wished that she would cease her weeping and her reading, and that it were possible for him to speak to her. Love, who had caught him at the window, filled him with this wish; but he despaired of his desire, for he could not believe or hope that his wish could come true.

  ‘I consider myself a fool,’ he said, ‘to desire what I cannot have; I fatally wounded her husband,
yet I want to have peace with her! Upon my word, such thoughts are senseless: right now she hates me more than anything, and rightfully so. I was correct to speak of “right now”, for a woman has more than a hundred moods. This mood she is now in will yet change, perhaps; in fact there is no “perhaps”: it will change. I’m a fool to despair of it, and may God grant that she change, for I am destined to be in her power from this time on since Love wishes it. He who refuses to welcome Love eagerly as soon as she draws near to him commits a felony and treason; and I say – heed it who will – that such a person does not deserve any happiness. But I shall not lose on this account; I shall love my enemy for ever, for I must not bear her any hatred if I do not want to betray Love. I must love whomever Love chooses.

  ‘And should she consider me her friend? Yes, indeed, because I love her. Yet I must call her my enemy because she hates me, and rightfully so, since I have killed the one she loved. Am I therefore her enemy? Indeed I am not, but her friend instead, for I’ve never before loved anyone so much.

  ‘I grieve for her beautiful hair, which surpasses pure gold as it glistens; it kindles and enflames me with passion when I see her tearing and pulling it out. Nor can the tears that flow from her eyes ever be dried: all these things displease me. Although they are filled with unceasing tears there never were more beautiful eyes. It grieves me that she is weeping, but nothing causes me more distress than to see her doing injury to her face, which has not deserved it. I’ve never seen a more perfectly shaped face, nor one fresher or more full of colour; but it pierces my heart through that she is an enemy to it. And truly, she is not holding back but is doing the worst she can to it, yet no crystal or mirror is so bright or smooth.

  ‘God! Why is she acting so madly? Why does she not moderate the hurt she does to herself? Why does she wring her beautiful hands and strike and scratch at her breast? Would she not be a true wonder to look upon if she were happy, when now she is so beautiful even in anguish? Indeed yes, I swear it’s true; never again will Nature be able to create such immeasurable beauty, for in making her Nature has surpassed every limit. Or else, perhaps, Nature had no hand in creating her? Then how could she have come to be? Where did such great beauty come from? God with his bare hands must have made her to make Nature marvel at her. Nature’s time would all be wasted if she tried to make another like her, for even God could not succeed again. And I believe that even if He decided to make the effort, He’d never be able to make another like her, no matter how hard He tried.’