Arthurian Romances

by Chretien de Troyes

  The boy did not give a fig for anything the king told him, nor did his grief or the shame done the queen make any impression on him.

  ‘Make me a knight, sir king,’ he said, ‘for I wish to be on my way.’

  The eyes of the rustic youth were bright and laughing in his head. None who saw him thought him wise, but everyone who observed him considered him handsome and noble.

  ‘Friend,’ said the king, ‘dismount and give your hunter to this squire, who will watch over it and do whatever you ask. I swear to God that all will be done in accordance with my honour and to your benefit.’

  And the boy replied: ‘The knights I met in the heath never dismounted, yet you want me to dismount! By my head, I’ll not dismount, so get on with it and I’ll be on my way.’

  ‘Ah!’ said the king, ‘my dear good friend, I’ll willingly do it to your benefit and my honour.’

  ‘By the faith I owe the Creator,’ said the boy, ‘good sir king, I’ll never be a knight if I’m not a red knight. Grant me the armour of the knight I met outside your gate, the one who carried off your golden cup.’

  The seneschal, who had been wounded, was angered by what he heard, and said: ‘Right you are, friend! Go and snatch his armour from him right now, for it belongs to you. You were no fool to come here and ask for it!’

  ‘Kay,’ said the king, ‘for the love of God, you are too eager to speak ill, and it doesn’t matter to whom! This is a wicked vice in a gentleman. Though the boy is naïve, still he may be of very noble line; and if his folly has come from poor teaching, because he had a low-bred master, he can still prove brave and wise. It is a wicked thing to mock another and to promise without giving. A gentleman should never undertake to promise anything to another that he cannot or will not grant him, for he might then earn the dislike of this person who otherwise would have been his friend but who, once the promise has been given, expects it to be kept. So by this you may understand that it is better to refuse a man something than to give him false hopes for, to tell the truth, he who makes promises he does not honour mocks and deceives himself, because it turns his friend’s heart from him.’ So the king spoke to Kay.

  As the boy turned to leave, he saw a maiden, fair and noble, whom he greeted. She returned his greeting with a laugh, and as she laughed she said to him: ‘Young man, if you live long enough, I think and believe in my heart that in this whole world there will never be, nor will anyone ever acknowledge, a better knight than yourself. This I think and feel and believe.’

  The maiden had not laughed in six full years or more, yet she said this so loudly that everyone heard her. And Kay, greatly upset by her words, leapt up and struck her so forcefully with his palm on her tender cheek that he knocked her to the ground. After slapping the maiden he turned back and saw a court jester standing beside a fireplace; he kicked him into the roaring fire because he was furiously angry at having often heard the jester say: ‘This maiden will not laugh until she has seen the man who will be the supreme lord among all knights.’

  The jester cried out and the maiden wept, and the boy tarried no longer; without a word to anyone he set off after the Red Knight. Yonet, who was well acquainted with all the best roads and was an enthusiastic carrier of news to the court, hurried alone and unaccompanied through an orchard beside the hall and out a postern gate until he came directly to the path where the Red Knight was awaiting knightly adventure. The boy swiftly approached to claim his armour, and the knight as he waited had put down the golden cup on a block of dark stone.

  When the boy had come near enough to make himself heard, he shouted: ‘Take off your armour! King Arthur commands you not to wear it any more!’

  And the Red Knight asked him: ‘Boy, does anyone dare come forth to uphold the king’s cause? If anyone does, don’t hide him from me.’

  ‘What the devil is this? Sir knight, are you mocking me by not taking off my armour? Remove it at once, I order you!’

  ‘Boy,’ he replied. ‘I’m asking you if anyone is coming on the king’s behalf to do combat against me.’

  ‘Sir knight, take off this armour at once, or I’ll take it from you myself, for I shall let you keep it no longer. Be confident that I shall attack you if you make me say more about this.’

  Then the Red Knight became irate. He raised his lance with both hands and struck the boy such a mighty blow across the shoulders with the shaft of his lance that it drove him down over the neck of his horse; the boy became enraged when he felt himself injured by the blow he had received. With all the accuracy he could summon he let fly his javelin at the knight’s eye: before he could react, the javelin had pierced the knight through the eye and brain, and had emerged from the back of his neck amid a gush of blood and brains. The Red Knight’s heart failed in agony and he tumbled forward, full-length, upon the ground.

  The boy dismounted, placed the knight’s lance to one side and lifted his shield from his shoulders. But he could not manage to get the helmet off the head because he did not know how to grasp it. And he wanted to ungird the sword, but he did not know how and could not pull it from its scabbard. So he took the scabbard and pulled and tugged. And Yonet began to laugh when he saw the boy struggling like this.

  ‘What’s going on, friend?’ he asked. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I don’t know. I thought your king had given me these arms, but I think I’ll have to carve up this dead knight into scraps before I can obtain any of his armour, since it clings so tightly to the corpse that inside and outside are as one, it seems to me, so tightly do they cling together.’

  ‘Now don’t you worry about a thing,’ said Yonet, ‘for I’ll separate it easily, if you wish me to.’

  ‘Then do it quickly,’ said the boy, ‘and give it to me without delay.’

  Yonet undressed the knight at once, right down to his big toe, leaving neither hauberk nor hose of mail, no helmet on his head nor any other armour. But the boy did not want to take off his own clothing, and refused, in spite of all Yonet’s pleadings, to don a very comfortable tunic of padded silken material that the knight, when he was alive, had worn beneath his hauberk; nor could Yonet persuade him to remove the rawhide buskins from his feet. He just said: ‘What the devil! Are you mocking me? Do you think I’ll change the good clothes so recently made for me by my mother for this knight’s clothing? Do you want me to trade my heavy canvas shirt for his thin shift? My jacket, which keeps out the water, for this one that wouldn’t stop a drop? May the man be hanged who ever would exchange his good clothing for someone else’s bad!’

  It is a difficult task to teach a fool. In spite of every exhortation, he would not take anything except the armour. Yonet laced up his mail leggings for him and strapped on the spurs over his rawhide buskins; then he put the hauberk on him – of which there was no finer – and placed the helmet, which fitted him perfectly, over the coif, and showed him how to gird on the sword so that it swung loosely. Then he placed the boy’s foot in the stirrup and had him mount the knight’s charger: the boy had never before seen a stirrup and knew nothing about spurs, having used only switches or whips. Yonet brought the shield and lance and gave them to him.

  Before Yonet left, the boy said: ‘Friend, take my hunter away with you, for he’s a fine horse and I am giving him to you because I have no need of him any longer; and take the king his cup and greet him for me, and tell the maiden whom Kay struck on the jaw that if I can, before I die, I hope to cook her such a dish that she’ll consider herself fully avenged.’

  Yonet replied that he would return the king’s cup and deliver the young man’s message faithfully. Then they parted and went their own ways. By the main door Yonet entered the hall where the barons were assembled; he returned the cup to the king, saying: ‘Sire, be cheerful, for your knight who was here sends back your cup to you.’

  ‘What knight are you talking about?’ asked the king, who was still filled with anger.

  ‘In the name of God, sire,’ said Yonet, ‘I’m talking about the boy who
left here a short while ago.’

  ‘Are you talking about that Welsh boy who asked me for the red-tinted armour of the knight who had caused me the greatest possible shame?’ inquired the king.

  ‘Sire, truly I mean him.’

  ‘And how did he get my cup? Did the Red Knight have such affection or respect for him that he freely gave it to him?’

  ‘No, the boy made him pay dearly for it by killing him.’

  ‘How did this come about, good friend?’

  ‘I don’t know, my lord, except that I saw the Red Knight strike him with his lance and injure him grievously, and then I saw the boy strike him with a javelin through the eye-slit so that blood and brains spilled out from beneath his helmet and he lay stretched out, dead, on the ground.’

  Then the king addressed the seneschal: ‘Ha! Kay, what harm you’ve caused me this day! By your venomous tongue, which has spoken many an idle word, you’ve driven from me a knight who today has done me a great service.’

  ‘My lord,’ said Yonet to the king, ‘by my head, he sends word by me to the queen’s handmaiden, whom Kay in his fury struck out of hatred and spite, that he will avenge her if he lives long enough and has the opportunity to do so.’

  The fool, who was sitting beside the fire, jumped to his feet as he heard these words, and came merrily before the king, leaping and dancing for joy, and saying: ‘Sire, king, as God is my saviour, the time of your adventure is nearing. You will often witness cruel and harsh ones, and I swear to you that Kay can be sure that he will regret his feet and hands and his wicked, foolish tongue because before forty days have passed the young knight will have avenged the kick Kay gave me; and the blow he struck the maiden will be dearly paid for and properly avenged, for his right arm will be broken between the shoulder and elbow – he’ll carry it in a sling from his neck for half a year, and well deserved! He can no more escape this than death.’

  These words so enraged Kay that he nearly died of wrath and, in his anger, he could scarcely restrain himself from killing the jester in front of the whole court. But because it would displease the king he refrained from attacking him.

  And the king said: ‘Ah, Kay! How angry you have made me this day! Had someone instructed the boy and taught him enough of weaponry that he could use his shield and lance a little, no doubt he would have made a fine knight. But he doesn’t know a thing about weapons or anything else, and couldn’t even draw his sword if he needed to. Now he’s sitting armed upon his steed and will encounter some vassal who won’t hesitate to maim him in order to win his horse; he’ll be dead or crippled before long, because he’s so simple-minded and uncouth that he doesn’t know how to defend himself! The other will instantly overwhelm him.’ So the king lamented, mourned, and pitied the young man; but he could gain nothing by it, so he fell silent.

  Meanwhile the boy rode on without delay through the forest until upon the flatlands he came to a river which was wider than a crossbow-shot, for all the waters had drained into it and now flowed along its bed. He crossed a meadow towards the raging waters, but he did not set foot in them, for he saw that they were dark and deep and swifter than the Loire. He rode along the riverbank opposite a high, rocky cliff, and the water facing him lapped against the foot of the rock. In the rock, on a slope that dropped down to the water, was built a fine and mighty castle. Where the river spread into a bay, the boy turned to his left and saw the castle towers appear, which seemed to him to grow and spring forth from the castle walls. In the middle of the castle stood a high and imposing tower; there, where the waters of the bay fought with the tide, the foot of this mighty barbican was washed by the sea. At the four corners of the walls, built of solid square-cut stones, were four low turrets, strong and elegant. The castle was very well situated and quite comfortable within. In front of the round entrance tower stood a bridge over the water. Made of stone, sand, and lime, the bridge was strong and high, with battlements all around. In the middle of the bridge was a tower and on the near end a drawbridge, built and ordained for its rightful purpose: a bridge by day and a gate by night.

  The boy rode towards the bridge. A gentleman robed in ermine was strolling on the bridge, awaiting the approaching youth. The gentleman held a short staff in his hand to add to his dignity, and was followed by two squires without cloaks. As he approached, the boy remembered well what his mother had taught him, for he greeted him and said: ‘Sir, my mother taught me this.’

  ‘God bless you, dear brother,’ said the gentleman, who saw by his speech that he was a naïve simpleton. He added: ‘Dear brother, where are you from?’

  ‘Where? From King Arthur’s court.’

  ‘What did you do there?’

  ‘The king, may God bless him, made me a knight.’

  ‘A knight? So help me God, I never thought that he would be doing such acts in the present circumstances. I thought the king would be concerned with other things than making knights. Now tell me, my good young man, who gave you this armour?’

  ‘The king gave it to me.’

  ‘Gave it? How so?’

  And he told him the tale just as you have heard it. If anyone were to tell it again it would be boring and wearisome, for no story improves by repetition. Then the gentleman asked him how skilled he was with his horse.

  ‘I can make it run up hills and down, just as I could run the hunter I used to have that I took from my mother’s house.’

  ‘Now tell me, dear friend, how you manage your armour.’

  ‘I know how to put it on and off, just as the squire armed me after he’d stripped the armour from the man I’d killed. And it is so comfortable that it doesn’t rub me at all when I’m wearing it.’

  ‘By God, I am impressed by this,’ said the gentleman, ‘and am pleased to hear it. Now don’t be offended if I ask what need brought you this way?’

  ‘Sir, my mother taught me to go up to gentlemen, to take advice from them, and to believe what they tell me, for profit comes to those who believe them.’

  The gentleman replied: ‘Dear brother, blessed be your mother, for she advised you well. But don’t you wish to ask something else?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what is that?’

  ‘This and no more: that you give me lodging this day.’

  ‘Most willingly,’ said the gentleman, ‘if you’ll grant me a boon that will bring you great profit, as you’ll see.’

  ‘And what is that?’ he asked.

  ‘That you believe your mother’s advice and mine.’

  ‘In faith,’ he said, ‘I grant it.’

  ‘Then dismount.’

  So he dismounted. One of the two squires who had come there took his horse and the other removed his armour, leaving him in the coarse robe, the buskins, and the roughly sewn and ill-fitting buckskin cloak that his mother had given him. Then the gentleman had himself equipped with the sharp steel spurs the young man had been wearing, mounted the boy’s horse, hung the shield by its strap from his own neck, took the lance, and said: ‘Friend, learn now about weapons and take heed of how you should hold the lance and spur your horse and rein him in.’

  Then he unfurled the pennon and showed him how he should grip his shield. He let it hang a little forward so that it rested on the horse’s neck, fewtered his lance, then spurred the horse, which was worth a hundred marks of silver, for none ran more swiftly or willingly or mightily. The gentleman was very skilled with shield, horse and lance, for he had practised with them since boyhood; everything the gentleman did pleased and delighted the young man. When he had gone through all his manoeuvres in front of the boy, who had observed them all very carefully, he returned to the youth with lance raised and asked him: ‘Friend, could you manoeuvre the lance and shield like that, and spur and guide your horse?’

  And he replied without hesitation that he would not care to live another day, nor possess lands or riches, until he had mastered this ability as well.

  ‘What one doesn’t know can be learned, if one is willing to listen a
nd work,’ said the gentleman. ‘My good friend, every profession requires effort and devotion and practice: with these three one can learn everything. And since you’ve never used weapons nor seen anyone else use them, there’s no shame or blame if you don’t know how to use them.’

  Then the gentleman had him mount and he began to carry the lance and shield as properly as if throughout his life he had frequented the tournaments and wars, and wandered through every land seeking battle and adventure, for it came naturally to him; and since Nature was his teacher and his heart was set upon it, nothing for which Nature and his heart strove could be difficult. With the help of these two he did so well that the gentleman was delighted and thought to himself that had this young man worked with arms all his life he would truly have been a master.

  When the boy had completed his turn he rode back before the gentleman with lance raised, just as he had seen him do, and spoke: ‘Sir, did I do well? Do you think I will gain from any effort if I am willing to make it? My eyes have never beheld anything I’ve yearned for so much. I truly want to know as much as you do about knighthood.’

  ‘Friend, if your heart is in it,’ said the gentleman, ‘you’ll learn much and never experience any difficulty.’ Three times the gentleman mounted the horse, three times he demonstrated the weapons until he had showed him all he knew and all there was to show, and three times he had the young man mount.

  The last time he said to him: ‘Friend, if you were to meet a knight, what would you do if he struck you?’

  ‘I’d strike back at him.’

  ‘And if your lance splintered?’

  ‘If that happened I’d have no choice but to rush at him with my fists.’

  ‘Friend, that’s not what you should do.’

  ‘Then what should I do?’

  ‘Pursue him with your sword and engage him with that.’

  Then the gentleman thrust his lance upright into the ground before him, for he was very eager to teach him more about weapons so he would be able to defend himself well with the sword if he were challenged and attack with it when need arose. Then he grasped the sword in his hand. ‘Friend,’ he said, ‘this is the way you’ll defend yourself if someone assails you.’