Yvain

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by Chretien de Troyes

To shameful, vulgar places.

  Like someone who carefully spreads

  Balm on cinders and ashes,

  Who hates honor and cherishes 1400

  Shame, who mixes sugar

  And bile, and honey and fat.

  But this time Love was different,

  Choosing a highborn home

  For which no one could possibly scold her. 1405

  And now the dead knight was buried,

  And the crowds of his people were gone,

  No priests, no knights, no soldiers,

  No ladies remained, only

  That lady who continued to grieve. 1410

  She stayed alone, often

  Clutching at her throat, wringing

  Her hands, beating her palms,

  Reading psalms from a prayerbook

  Illumined in letters of gold. 1415

  And lord Yvain still stands

  At the window, watching her, staring,

  And the more he watches the more

  He loves her and the more she charms him.

  She wept and she read, but he wished 1420

  She would give them up, and turn

  To him, and give him leave to speak.

  Love had caught him at the window

  And put this desire in his heart.

  But his desire is foolish, and he knows it: 1425

  How could he believe, how

  Could he trust it to happen? And he says:

  “What a fool I am, to want

  What I'll never have. Her lord

  Is dead of his wounds, and can I 1430

  Believe in peace between us?

  By God, I understand nothing!

  She loathes me, now, and not

  For nothing, and not wrongly.

  But ‘now’ is the crucial word, 1435

  For a woman’s mind has a thousand

  Directions. And perhaps that ‘now’

  Will change. Oh, surely it will change,

  And how stupid of me to stand here

  Lost in despair. God grant 1440

  That she changes soon! For Love

  Has decided to put me forever

  In her power, and Love takes what it wants!

  Not to accept Love’s wish

  When Love comes, and Love asks, is more 1445

  Than wicked, it is treachery. And I say,

  And whoever worships Love

  Let him listen, that a deserter from Love

  Deserves no happiness. I may lose,

  But I'll always love my enemy. 1450

  How could I ever hate her,

  If I wish to be loyal to Love?

  What Love wants, I want. But she,

  Should she accept me as a lover?

  She should, for it is she I love. 1455

  I call her my enemy: she hates me,

  And she has reason to hate me, remembering

  How I killed the man she loved.

  And I, am I her enemy?

  Never, but only her lover, 1460

  For who have I loved like this?

  I feel pain, seeing her beautiful

  Hair, finer than gold,

  And gleaming. Pain and anger

  Fill me, when she twists and breaks 1465

  That hair. I know nothing can dry

  The tears falling from her eyes.

  And all of it makes me miserable.

  Her eyes are forever full

  Of tears, tears without end, 1470

  And yet no eyes were ever

  Lovelier. I weep because

  She weeps, but my greatest pain

  Is seeing how she wounds her face,

  Though it can't deserve it. I've never 1475

  Beheld such a perfect face,

  So glowing and intense, so vividly

  Colored. And how it afflicts me

  To see her clutching at her throat!

  Surely, she cannot help 1480

  Herself, she does the worst

  She can. And yet no crystal,

  No mirror, is as clear or as smooth.

  Lord! Why is she so

  Obsessed, why can't she hurt herself 1485

  Less? Why wring those beautiful

  Hands, and beat and scratch

  At her breast? How wonderfully fine

  To see her, in some happy mood,

  If her beauty shines in such anger! 1490

  Oh yes, I can swear to that:

  Never before has Nature

  So outdone herself in beauty,

  For here all boundaries are exceeded.

  And how could it possibly have happened? 1495

  How could such beauty exist?

  Where could such beauty have come from?

  God must have made her Himself,

  With His own bare hands, to make Nature

  Gape. And it’s all used up, 1500

  Nature could not make another,

  She'd only be wasting her time.

  God Himself, if He wanted

  To try, could not do it again,

  No matter how hard He tried, 1505

  For it could not be done, not ever.”

  And so my lord Yvain

  Thought of that lady, tortured

  With grief. And when will it happen

  Again that a man held 1510

  In prison as Yvain was held,

  Knowing his life in danger,

  Will love so madly that he'll never

  Beg for himself, when no one

  Else could be begging for him? 1515

  He stayed standing at the window

  Till he saw the lady leave

  And both drawbridges were lowered

  Back into place. Some other

  Knight might have been miserable, 1520

  Preferring freedom, wishing

  To remain no longer where he was,

  But to him it was all the same

  If they shut the gates or opened them.

  Indeed, if they left them open 1525

  There could be no question of leaving,

  Not even were the lady to grant him

  Permission to go, gladly

  Pardoning him for the death of her lord,

  Freeing him in safety. Because 1530

  It was Love, and it was Shame, that held him,

  Standing to his right and his left.

  He was shamed if he went away,

  For no one would believe he'd done

  What he'd done, and seen what he'd seen. 1535

  And then he felt so strong

  A desire at least to see

  The lady, if nothing more,

  That prison meant nothing. He would rather

  Die than leave. —And now 1540

  The girl returned, wanting

  To keep him company, to amuse

  And entertain him, and more

  Than ready to bring him anything

  His heart desired. But love, 1545

  Seizing him, left him thoughtful,

  Distracted, languid and weak.

  And she said: “My lord Yvain!

  What sort of day have you had?”

  “The sort that pleases me immensely.” 1550

  “Pleases you? By God! Are you telling

  The truth? What? How

  Can you be amused, seeing

  Them hunting and intending to kill you?”

  “Surely, good friend,” he said, 1555

  “I've no interest at all in dying,

  And yet, as God is my witness,

  I've delighted in everything I've seen,

  I'm pleased and will always be pleased.”

  “We can leave that subject alone,” 1560

  She said, “for I see quite well

  What those words are meant to mean.

  I'm neither so simple or dull

  That I can't understand such talk.

  But follow me, for I need 1565

  To find some quick and easy

  Way to free you from your prison.

  Please God, I'll
have you free

  Tonight or tomorrow. Come,

  I'll show you the way.” And he answered: 1570

  “One thing is certain: I'll never

  Leave like a thief, I'll never

  Sneak away in the dark.

  And when all your people are gathered

  Out in those streets, I can leave 1575

  With far more honor than if

  I went by night.” And after

  These words they entered her little

  Room. And the girl, who knew

  What she was doing, was anxious to bring him 1580

  Whatever he wanted, freely

  Supplying all he needed,

  As she'd promised to do. And when

  There was time, she turned in her mind

  Exactly what he'd said, and how pleased 1585

  He had been with everything he saw,

  Even as they'd hunted him in the room

  And tried to kill him, and longed to.

  And this girl stood so high in her lady’s

  Favor there was nothing she feared 1590

  To say, whatever her words

  Might lead to. The lady told her

  Everything, and she kept things to herself.

  Then why be afraid to offer

  Her mistress consolation, and advice 1595

  That would bring her honor? The first time

  The two were alone she said:

  “Lady! I find myself

  Astonished at this wildness and violence.

  My lady! Do you think this sort 1600

  Of sorrow will bring back your lord?”

  “No,” she answered, “but I'd rather

  Be dead of my grief.” “And why?”

  “To go where he has gone.”

  “Follow him? May God protect you 1605

  And find you another lord

  As good, as He can do.”

  “You've never spoken so huge

  A lie, there is no one as good.”

  “There are better, and if you would accept him 1610

  I'd bring him here, in proof.”

  “Leave me! Be quiet! I will never

  Find one.” “My lady, you will,

  If you'll only permit it. Tell me,

  If you please, who will defend 1615

  Your lands when King Arthur comes,

  And he comes in another week,

  Seeking the stone and the fountain?

  Our Lady Sauvage has long since

  Sent word of his coming, sent a letter 1620

  With that news. Ah! How truly

  She has sought to help you! What you need

  To be planning is how to defend

  Your fountain, and with whose help,

  And all you can do is weep! 1625

  My lady, dear lady, delay

  No longer. I beg you! None

  Of your knights is worth as much

  As a single chambermaid, none of them,

  And you know it, lady. The best 1630

  Of your knights can barely lift

  A shield or pick up a spear.

  You have plenty of weak-kneed men,

  But none of them have the courage

  To mount a war-horse and sit tall. 1635

  And the king is coming with so huge

  An army that nothing will stop him.”

  The lady knew very well

  That this was honest advice,

  But she had her foolish side, 1640

  Like almost every woman

  Alive, totally blind

  To her madness, excusing herself

  As she pushed away what she really

  Wanted. “Leave me!” she cried, 1645

  “Not another word! And run

  For your life if you speak like this

  Again! You talk too much,

  You tire me.” “Surely, my lady!

  How easy to see you're a woman, 1650

  For women grow angry when anyone

  Gives them good advice.”

  She left, and the lady was alone,

  And when she'd thought a bit more

  She knew she'd been very wrong. 1655

  And all her desire was to know

  How the girl could have proven

  That a better knight could be found

  Than her lord had ever been.

  And she wished she could hear her explain, 1660

  But she'd forbidden the girl to speak.

  So, longing to hear, she waited

  For the girl to return. But nothing

  She'd said had made any difference:

  The girl began at once: 1665

  “Oh, my lady! Is it fitting

  To kill yourself with grief?

  By God! Get control of yourself,

  Stop it, if only for shame.

  No highborn lady ought 1670

  To keep up her mourning so long.

  Remember your honor, think

  Of your high and noble birth.

  Do you think that all the honor

  On earth died with your lord? 1675

  A hundred as good, or better,

  Have been left in this world.” “May the good Lord

  Destroy me, but you lie in your teeth!

  How could you show me a single

  Man with a name as noble 1680

  As my lord enjoyed all his life?”

  “You wouldn't be grateful, if I did,

  I know you wouldn't. You'd fly

  In a fury, there'd be insults, there'd be threats.”

  “Not at all, I assure you I won't.” 1685

  “How good it would be, how lucky,

  My lady, for you and your future,

  If you let it please you—and may God

  Give you the will to be pleased!

  And why should I hold my tongue? 1690

  No one listens to the likes

  Of us. You'll think me presumptuous,

  But I'll tell you exactly what I think.

  When a pair of knights have come

  Together in battle, and one 1695

  Has beaten the other, who seems

  To you most worthy? Me,

  I give the prize to the victor.

  And how does it seem to you?”

  “I think you're trying to trick me, 1700

  Trying to trap me with my words.”

  “Good lord! Well, you

  Can be sure I'm right, I know

  What I'm saying. I can prove it, too.

  The knight who defeated your lord 1705

  Was better than he was. He beat him,

  And then he chased him bravely

  Here to his home, and then

  He locked him up in his house.”

  “Oh now,” she answered, “I hear 1710

  The worst nonsense in the world.

  Enough! You've a wicked heart.

  Enough! You're a stupid, tiresome

  Girl. Enough of your silliness!

  Never come in my presence 1715

  With praise for that man. Enough!”

  “Indeed, my lady! As I told you,

  I knew you'd be ungrateful.

  I told you I knew. But you gave me

  Your word, you promised, that if 1720

  I spoke you'd listen and not

  Be angry. You haven't kept

  Your promise, you gave me your word

  And you broke it. I spoke because

  You wished it, you asked me to speak, 1725

  But you're angry, and I've lost by my words.”

  And then she returned to the room

  Where she kept my lord Yvain

  Resting and waiting in great comfort,

  But nothing pleased him, when he heard 1730

  He could not see the lady,

  And though she repeated her quarrel

  With her mistress, he paid no attention.

  And the lady, too, lay awake

  All night, at war with herself, 1735

  Terribly worried how

&nb
sp; To protect her wonderful spring,

  And beginning to regret how she'd scolded

  And insulted her servant, and shown her

  Such violent contempt, for she was sure, 1740

  Completely certain, that it was not

  For a bribe or any reward,

  Nor because she loved him, that the girl

  Had begun to speak of her husband’s

  Killer; she knew she loved her 1745

  Better than him, and her advice

  Intended no shame and no harm:

  The girl was too loyal a friend.

  And like that! the lady suddenly

  Changed toward the girl she'd abused, 1750

  Worried, now, that she'd never

  Ever love her again.

  And he whom she'd pushed away

  She calmly excused, convinced

  By reason and by argument that nothing 1755

  He'd done had injured her.

  And so she debated with herself,

  As if he were standing in front of her.

  And these were the words of her argument:

  “Now,” she said, “could you possibly 1760

  Deny that you killed my lord?”

  “That,” he replied, “I could never

  Say. I admit it.” “Then tell me,

  Did you do it because you hate me,

  To hurt me, to make me miserable?” 1765

  “May death take me here

  And now if I ever meant you

  Harm.” “Then you've done me no wrong,

  And you've done no wrong to him:

  He'd have killed you, if he could. 1770

  And thus it seems to me

  I've judged correctly, and well.”

  And so, by this same proof,

  She found reason and right and wisdom,

  And no need for her to hate him, 1775

  Ensuring herself what she wanted

  And all the time igniting

  Herself, like smoking wood,

  Bursting into flame when it’s stirred,

  Smouldering if no one blows it 1780

  Awake. If the girl had come to her

  Now, she'd have won the argument

  She'd tried so hard to win

  And been so insulted for beginning.

  And in the morning she came 1785

  And began it all over again,

  Starting where she'd stopped before.

  And it made the lady lower

  Her head, for she knew she'd done wrong

  To be angry and insult her as she'd done. 1790

  And now she wanted to make

  Amends, and asked the knight’s name,

  And his birth, and what he was like,

  And wisely humbling herself.

  And she said: “I beg your pardon 1795

  For my offensive words, and my swollen

  Pride, speaking to you

  Like a fool. I will follow your advice.

  But tell me, if you know, what sort

  Of man is this knight of whom 1800

  You've told me so much, arguing

  His cause, and what was his birth?

  And if he’s worthy of me,

 

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