Yvain

by Chretien de Troyes

She said, “for I shall do everything

  I can to assist you. It’s better

  For a knight not to be afraid.

  And I know you for a noble knight,

  Seeing how little you're frightened. 1000

  Understand me: I would do you honor,

  I would serve you, if I could, as you

  Have already done for me.

  My lady once sent me to Arthur’s

  Court with a message, and I suppose 1005

  I was neither as wise nor as courteous

  Nor in anything what I ought to have been

  As a girl at the king’s high court.

  And none of the knights would stoop

  To exchange a word with me, 1010

  Except you, who stand here now,

  But you, out of kindness and mercy,

  Were courteous and helped me. And for the honor

  You did me then I offer you,

  In exchange, this reward. I know 1015

  There is nothing you've asked. I know.

  But I knew you as soon as I saw you,

  You're the son of King Urien, and your name

  Is lord Yvain. And you

  Can be certain, you can be sure, 1020

  That trusting my words, you'll never

  Be captured or hurt. Accept

  This little ring, and if

  You please return it to me

  When it’s done its work, and you're free.” 1025

  Then she gave him the little ring

  And told him it had such power

  That, just as bark hid the wood

  Of a tree, and no one could see it,

  So this ring would conceal anyone 1030

  Who wore it, as long as the stone

  Sat in his palm: there was nothing

  To fear from anyone if he wore it

  As she'd said, for no one could possibly

  See him, no matter how keen 1035

  Their eyes, any more than they saw

  Through bark to the wood underneath.

  And lord Yvain was happy.

  And when she'd told him these things

  She led him to a couch covered 1040

  With cloth so rich that the Duke

  Of Austria could never afford it,

  And sat him there, and said

  If he cared to eat she would fetch him

  Food. And he said he would. 1045

  And running into her room

  The girl returned, as fast

  As possible, with a roasted fowl

  And a cake and a tablecloth

  And a full jug of wine 1050

  Made from good grapes, and a white

  Goblet covering it, and invited him

  To dine. And needing that food

  He ate it gladly and with good will.

  And when he had eaten and drunk 1055

  Knights were hurrying through

  The castle, hunting him,

  For their lord, already lying

  On his bier, wanted revenge.

  And she said to him: “Friend! 1060

  Do you hear? Everyone’s hunting you.

  What a lot of noise they're making!

  But no matter who comes or goes

  Don't let their noise make you move,

  For there’s no way they'll ever find you 1065

  If you never move from this couch.

  Oh, this room will be full of men

  At arms, angry, fierce,

  Just wanting to find you out,

  And I suspect they'll bring the body 1070

  In here, getting it ready

  For burial, and they'll crawl under benches

  And beds, seeking you. And you,

  A man who feels no fear,

  Ought to find it amusing, 1075

  Seeing so many men

  So blind, so desperate and defeated,

  And all the time so deluded,

  That they'll be half mad with rage.

  I know nothing more to tell you, 1080

  And I cannot stay here any longer.

  But I'm grateful to almighty God

  Who’s given me this chance

  To do something that might please you:

  It’s something I'd wanted to do.” 1085

  And then she went on her way,

  And after she'd turned and gone out

  Everyone else swarmed by,

  Rushing to the gates from both sides,

  Armed with clubs and swords, 1090

  A huge crowd pushing

  And shoving, furious, savage.

  And then they saw in front

  Of the gate the horse cut in half.

  And then they thought it was certain 1095

  That once the gates were opened

  They'd find him in there, the man

  They wanted to kill. So they had

  Those gates drawn up, those gates

  That had killed so many men, 1100

  And of course they set no trap

  Nor primed the springs, but rushed

  Across in a tumbling mob.

  And they found the other half

  Of the horse, dead, lying 1105

  On the threshold, but none of them had eyes

  Keen enough to see

  Lord Yvain, though they'd cheerfully have killed him.

  And he watched their fury, as they stormed

  And screamed and ranted and roared. 1110

  And they cried: “This is impossible!

  There’s no window here, no door,

  That anything could get through, except

  A bird, which can fly, or a squirrel,

  Or perhaps a woodchuck or a rat 1115

  Or something as small or smaller,

  For the windows are barred, and the gates

  Were all of them shut, as soon

  As our lord came through. His body

  Has got to be here, dead 1120

  Or alive, for there’s nothing out there.

  There’s more than half the saddle

  Out there, we see that, all right,

  But there’s nothing to be seen of him

  Except his cut-off spurs, 1125

  Sheared away from his feet.

  Now! Let’s hunt him in every

  Corner, and stop all this blather,

  For he’s got to be here, he’s got to,

  Unless we're all bewitched 1130

  Or the demons of hell have taken him.”

  And so they all of them, wild

  With rage, hunted him all over

  The room, beating on everything—

  Walls and couches and chairs— 1135

  But their blows never touched the couch

  Where Yvain lay resting, so nothing

  Hurt him. But they banged and smashed

  About so furiously, bashing

  Everywhere, fighting immense 1140

  Battles like blind men in the dark,

  Pounding as blind men pound

  When they hunt what they cannot see—

  And then, suddenly, as they searched

  And searched again, under beds, 1145

  Under stools, there appeared a woman

  As lovely as any creature on earth.

  No one had spoken a word

  Of so splendid a lady, and yet

  Her grief was so intense 1150

  She seemed ready to take her own life.

  And then she cried out so loudly

  That she seemed to have exhausted herself

  And dropped to the ground, unconscious.

  And when they lifted her up 1155

  She began to tear at her clothes

  Like a woman gone mad, and she pulled

  At her hair, and ripped it out,

  And she tore at her dress, and at every

  Step fell in a faint, 1160

  And nothing could relieve her pain,

  For she saw her lord carried

  In and laid on his death bed,

  And all her happiness was e
nded,

  And so she cried and wailed. 1165

  Holy water and the cross

  And uplifted candles were carried

  In front, by the nuns from a convent,

  And then came the Holy Word

  And incense and priests, the stewards 1170

  Of eternal absolution, which miserable

  Souls are always seeking.

  And lord Yvain listened

  To that weeping beyond description,

  Which no words can describe, which never 1175

  Can be written in a book. And the solemn

  Procession went by, but then

  In the middle of the room a crowd

  Milled around the bier,

  For fresh red blood began 1180

  To run from the corpse’s cold wounds,

  And this was positive proof

  That whoever had fought their lord

  In battle, and beaten him, and killed him,

  Was surely still there. And everyone 1185

  Hunted and searched again,

  And ransacked the room, and turned it

  Upside down, till they all

  Were sweating in confusion and pain,

  And all of it caused by that blood 1190

  Trickling down in plain sight.

  And this time blow after blow

  Fell on my lord Yvain,

  Where he lay, but he never moved.

  And the crowd grew wilder and wilder 1195

  As the wounds stayed open, and bled,

  For no one knew why they bled

  Or who was responsible. And this one

  Said to that one, and babbled:

  “The murderer is here, he’s here, 1200

  And no one can see him, no one.

  This is a wonder, it is witchery.”

  And such pain and sorrow afflicted

  The lady that she left her senses

  And shrieked like a mad wild creature: 1205

  “God! God! Can't they find

  The murderer, the traitor, who killed

  My dear sweet lord? Good?

  Oh, he was better than good!

  It will be Your fault, it will, 1210

  My God, if You let him escape.

  I accuse no one but You

  For stealing him out of our sight.

  No one has ever known

  Such violence, and such wrong, as You do me, 1215

  Not even allowing me to see

  This man, who must be so near.

  And surely, seeing nothing,

  I claim that some phantom, some demon,

  Has placed himself between us, 1220

  And I am completely bewitched.

  Or he is a coward, and afraid.

  What a coward he must be, to fear

  My tears, a coward of cowards

  Not to dare show me his face! 1225

  Ah demon, cowardly creature,

  Why tremble and shake at the sight

  Of me? You were brave with my lord!

  Cheating, empty thing,

  If I only had you in my power! 1230

  Let me lay my hands on you!

  And how could a creature like you

  Ever kill my lord, except

  By treachery and tricks? My lord

  Could never be beaten by you, 1235

  No, not if he saw your face.

  For neither God nor man

  Ever knew any man like him,

  And no one like him is left.

  Had you been merely mortal 1240

  You’d never have dared oppose him,

  For there was no one like him, no one.”

  And so the lady struggled,

  Fighting with everything, and herself,

  And so she tormented and tore 1245

  At herself. And they all renewed

  Her grief, which couldn't have been greater,

  Until the body was borne off for burial.

  And after beating about, and hunting,

  And shouting, her people were so tired 1250

  That they'd given up, in weariness,

  Finding no one they could see, no one

  They could blame. And all the nuns

  And priests finished their service

  And left, some returning 1255

  To their church, some praying

  At their lord’s new tomb. —But the girl

  In her room had no interest in any

  Of this, her thoughts were only

  Of lord Yvain, and coming 1260

  To him as quickly as she could

  She said: “Good sir! These people

  Have been hunting you in crowds. They've raised

  An enormous racket in here,

  Beating about in every 1265

  Corner with more zeal than hounds

  Barking after partridge or quail.

  You must have been afraid.”

  “By God!” he said. “You're right!

  I never expected such fear. 1270

  And still, if possible, I'd like

  To watch through some crack in a wall

  Or some window, and see the funeral

  Procession, and the corpse.” And yet

  He was interested neither in funeral 1275

  Nor corpse; he'd gladly have watched

  As both of them burned, if it cost him

  A thousand marks. A thousand?

  More likely three thousand, by God!

  It was the lady of that castle he wanted 1280

  To see, it was she he spoke of.

  And the girl put him in front of

  A tiny window, repaying him

  As well as she could the honor

  He had once done her. And from 1285

  That window my lord Yvain

  Could watch the beautiful lady,

  Who said: “Good sir! May God

  Surely have mercy on your soul,

  For never have I known of a knight 1290

  Anywhere who was your equal,

  In anything as worthy as you!

  Your honor, my beloved good lord,

  Was never equalled by any

  Knight, nor your courtesy. Kindness 1295

  And openness were your friends, and courage

  And bravery rode at your side.

  May your soul join the company

  Of saints, my good sweet lord!”

  Then she beat at herself, and tore 1300

  At everything her hands could reach.

  And lord Yvain suffered

  Such pain, it was hard, no matter

  What happened, to keep from running

  To grasp her hands. But the girl 1305

  Begged him, and counselled him, and scolded him,

  Though always gracefully and in good taste,

  To keep from foolish things,

  And she said: “You're well off right here.

  Let nothing take you away 1310

  Until this sorrow has eased

  And all these people have gone,

  As soon they must. Behave

  As I urge, exactly as I

  Urge you to do, and many 1315

  Good things may come to you.

  And the best thing will be to stay

  Where you are and watch these people,

  Inside and out, going

  Their ways, and none of them seeing 1320

  You, and everything for the best.

  But guard your tongue, keep it

  In control, for violence and passion 1322a

  And impulse only cause trouble, 1322b

  If you give them the chance, and I call that 1322c

  Wicked and cowardly, not brave. 1322d

  Be careful, if you think of being

  A fool, to do nothing at all.

  The wise man hides his folly 1325

  And lets the good go to work,

  If he can. Behave like the wise,

  Who keep their heads out of danger—

  They'd take no ransom for that head

  Of you
rs! Be careful of yourself, 1330

  And remember my advice! Be calm

  And wait for my return,

  For I dare not stay here longer.

  If I stay on here with you

  Perhaps they'll begin to suspect me, 1335

  Not seeing me there with the others,

  Milling in that crowd down there,

  And I might be severely punished.”

  So off she goes, and he stays,

  Not knowing what he ought to do. 1340

  He sees them about to bury

  The corpse, and he’s had no chance

  To snatch some trophy for himself,

  Something to prove beyond doubt

  That he'd conquered and killed the man. 1345

  Without some evidence, some proof,

  He might be utterly disgraced.

  For Kay is so savage, so spiteful,

  So full of insults, so mean,

  He could never hold him off, 1350

  And Kay would go on, forever

  Sniping and insulting, exactly

  As he'd done the other day.

  Those taunts had never left

  His heart, still beat there, fresh, 1355

  And yet a new love had softened

  That rancor with its sugar and honey,

  A love that had hunted in his heart

  And completely conquered its prey.

  His enemy had captured his heart, 1360

  He loved the creature who hated

  Him most. Not suspecting a thing,

  The lady had avenged her lord’s death.

  She'd managed a greater vengeance

  Than anything she could have accomplished 1365

  By herself, without Love’s assistance,

  Who came to him so gently

  That it struck his heart through his eyes.

  And this is a longer-lasting

  Wound than a sword or a spear 1370

  Can inflict, for a sword-blow is healed

  And well once a doctor has cared for it,

  And the wounds of Love grow worse

  The nearer they are to their cure.

  And thus lord Yvain is wounded 1375

  And can never again be cured,

  For Love itself has conquered him.

  Places she has always avoided

  Are places Love sometimes seeks;

  She longs for no lodging, no landlord, 1380

  But this one, and the proof is that nothing

  Can be bad, or too low, so long

  As Love finds herself there.

  Everywhere else is empty,

  She searches so hard. How shameful 1385

  For Love to act this way,

  Picking the worst of all places,

  The lowest, the most base, as readily

  As the best, though this time she’s chosen

  The best of all possible homes. 1390

  Love is most welcome, here,

  And here she'll be, shown great honor,

  And here she'd do well to stay.

  And so Love should, a creature

  Of such nobility that it seems 1395

  Incredible she could dare descend