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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:53 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:36:53 -0700 |
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diff --git a/11417-h/11417-h.htm b/11417-h/11417-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c2d17b8 --- /dev/null +++ b/11417-h/11417-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8660 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=UTF-8"> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of French, by E.P. Dutton and Co. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%;} + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; right: 100%; font-size: 8pt; justify: right;} /* page numbers */ + // --> + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11417 ***</div> + +<h1>FRENCH</h1> +<h1>MEDIAEVAL</h1> +<h1>ROMANCES</h1> + +<h2>From the Lays of Marie de France</h2> + +<h3>Translated by</h3> +<h3>Eugene Mason</h3> + +<h3>1911</h3> + +<br> +<p><a href="#CONTENTS"><b>CONTENTS</b></a><br> +<p>INTRODUCTION</p> +<br> + +<p>The tales included in this little book of translations are derived +mainly from the "Lays" of Marie de France. I do not profess +them to be a complete collection of her stories in verse. +The ascription varies. Poems which were included in her +work but yesterday are withdrawn to-day, and new matter +suggested by scholars to take the place of the old. I believe +it to be, however, a far fuller version of Marie's "Lays" +than has yet appeared, to my knowledge, in English. Marie's +poems are concerned chiefly with love. To complete my book +I have added two famous mediaeval stories on the same +excellent theme. This, then, may be regarded as a volume +of French romances, dealing, generally, with one aspect of +mediaeval life.</p> + +<p>An age so feminist in its sympathies as ours should be +attracted the more easily to Marie de France, because she was +both an artist and a woman. To deliver oneself through any +medium is always difficult. For a woman of the Middle +Ages to express herself publicly by any means whatever was +almost impossible. A great lady, a great Saint or church-woman, +might do so very occasionally. But the individuality +of the ordinary wife was merged in that of her husband, and +for one Abbess of Shrewsbury or Whitby, for one St. Clare or +St. Hilda, there were how many thousand obscure sisters, +who were buried in the daily routine of a life hidden with +Christ in God! Doubtless the artistic temperament burst +out now and again in woman, and would take no denial. +It blew where it listed, appearing in the most unexpected +places. A young nun in a Saxon convent, for instance, +would write little dramas in Latin for the amusement and +edification of the noble maidens under her charge. These +comedies, written in the days of the Emperor Otho, can be +read with pleasure in the reign of King George, by those who +find fragrant the perfumes of the past. They deal with the +pious legends of the Saints, and are regarded with wistful +admiration by the most modern of Parisian playwrights. In +their combination of audacity and simplicity they could only +be performed by Saxon religious in the times of Otho, or by +marionettes in the more self-conscious life of to-day. Or, +again, an Abbess, the protagonist of one of the great love +stories of the world, by sheer force of personality, would +compose letters to one—how immeasurably her moral inferior, +in spite of his genius—expressing with an unexampled +poignancy the most passionate emotions of the heart. Or, to +take my third illustration, here are a woman's poems written +in an age when literature was almost entirely in the hands of +men. Consider the strength of character which alone induced +these three ladies to stray from the beaten paths of +their sex. To the average woman it was enough to be an +object of art herself, or to be the inspiration of masterpieces +by man. But these three women of the Middle Ages—and +such as they—shunned the easier way, and, in their several +spheres, were by deliberate effort, self-conscious artists.</p> + +<p>The place and date of birth of Marie de France are unknown—indeed +the very century in which she lived has been +a matter of dispute. Her poems are written in the French of +northern France; but that does not prove her necessarily to +be a Frenchwoman. French was the tongue of the English +Court, and many Englishmen have written in the same +language. Indeed, it is a very excellent vehicle for expression. +Occasionally, Marie would insert English words in her French +text, the better to convey her meaning; but it does not follow +therefrom that the romances were composed in England. It +seems strange that so few positive indications of her race and +home are given in her poems—nothing is contained beyond +her Christian name and the bare statement that she was of +France. She took great pride in her work, which she wrought +to the best of her ability, and was extremely jealous of that +bubble-reputation. Yet whilst this work was an excellent +piece of self-portraiture, it reveals not one single fact or date +on which to go. A consensus of critical opinion presumes +that Marie was a subject of the English Crown, born in an +ancient town called Pitre, some three miles above Rouen, in +the Duchy of Normandy. This speculation is based largely +on the unwonted topographical accuracy of her description +of Pitre, given in "The Lay of the Two Lovers." Such +evidence, perhaps, is insufficient to obtain a judgment in a +Court of Law. The date when Marie lived was long a matter +of dispute. The Prologue to her "Lays" contains a +dedication to some unnamed King; whilst her "Fables" is +dedicated to a certain Count William. These facts prove her +to have been a person of position and repute. The King was +long supposed to be Henry the Third of England, and this +would suggest that she lived in the thirteenth century. An +early scholar, the Abbé de La Rue, in fact, said that this was +"undoubtedly" the case, giving cogent reasons in support of +his contention. But modern scholarship, in the person of +Gaston Paris, has decided that the King was Henry the +Second, of pious memory; the Count, William Longsword, +Earl of Salisbury, his natural son by Fair Rosamund; and +that Marie must be placed in the second half of the twelfth +century. This shows that scholarship is not an exact science, +and that such words as "doubtless" should not be employed +more than necessary. A certain Eastern philosopher, when +engaged in instructing the youth of his country, used always +to conclude his lectures with the unvarying formula, "But, +gentlemen, all that I have told you is probably wrong." +This sage was a wise man (not always the same thing), and +his example should be had in remembrance. It seems +possible (and one hesitates to use a stronger word) that the +"Lays" of Marie were actually written at the Court of +Henry of England. From political ambition the King was +married to Eleanor of Aquitaine, a lady of literary tastes, +who came from a family in which the patronage of singers +was a tradition. Her husband, too, had a pronounced liking +for literature. He was fond of books, and once paid a visit +to Glastonbury to visit King Arthur's tomb. These, perhaps, +are limited virtues, but Henry the Second had need of every +rag. It is somewhat difficult to recognise in that King of +the Prologue, "in whose heart all gracious things are +rooted," the actual King who murdered Becket; who turned +over picture-books at Mass, and never confessed or communicated. +It is yet more difficult to perceive "joy as his +handmaid" who, because of the loss of a favourite city, +threatened to revenge himself on God, by robbing Him of that +thing—<i>i.e.</i>, the soul—He desired most in him; and whose +very last words were an echo of Job's curse upon the day +that he was born. Marie's phrases may be regarded, perhaps, +as a courtly flourish, rather than as conveying truth +with mathematical precision. If not, we should be driven to +suggest an alternative to the favourite simile of lying like an +epitaph. But I think it unlikely that Marie suffered with a +morbidly sensitive conscience. There is little enough real +devotion to be met with in her "Lays"; and if her last +book—a translation from the Latin of the Purgatory of St. +Patrick—is on a subject she avoids in her earlier work, it +was written under the influence of some high prelate, and +may be regarded as a sign that she watched the shadows +cast by the western sun lengthening on the grass.</p> + +<p>Gaston Paris suggests 1175 as an approximate date for the composition of +the "Lays" of Marie de France. Their success was immediate and +unequivocal, as indeed was to be expected in the case of a lady situated +so fortunately at Court. We have proof of this in the testimony of Denis +Pyramus, the author who wrote a Life of St. Edmund the King, early in +the following century. He says, in that poem, "And also Dame Marie, who +turned into rhyme and made verses of 'Lays' which are not in the least +true. For these she is much praised, and her rhyme is loved everywhere; +for counts, barons, and knights greatly admire it, and hold it dear. And +they love her writing so much, and take such pleasure in it, that they +have it read, and often copied. These Lays are wont to please ladies, +who listen to them with delight, for they are after their own hearts." +It is no wonder that the lords and ladies of her century were so +enthralled by Marie's romances, for her success was thoroughly well +deserved. Even after seven hundred years her colours remain surprisingly +vivid, and if the tapestry is now a little worn and faded in places, we +still follow with interest the movements of the figures wrought so +graciously upon the arras. Of course her stories are not original; but +was any plot original at any period of the earth's history? This is not +only an old, but an iterative world. The source of Marie's inspiration +is perfectly clear, for she states it emphatically in quite a number of +her Lays. This adventure chanced in Brittany, and in remembrance thereof +the Bretons made a Lay, which I heard sung by the minstrel to the music +of his rote. Marie's part consisted in reshaping this ancient material +in her own rhythmic and coloured words. Scholars tell us that the +essence of her stories is of Celtic rather than of Breton origin. It may +be so; though to the lay mind this is not a matter of great importance +one way or the other; but it seems better to accept a person's definite +statement until it is proved to be false. The Breton or Celtic +imagination had peculiar qualities of dreaminess, and magic and mystery. +Marie's mind was not cast in a precisely similar mould. Occasionally she +is successful enough; but generally she gives the effect of building +with a substance the significance of which she does not completely +realise. She may be likened to a child playing with symbols which, in +the hand of the enchanter, would be of tremendous import. Her treatment +of Isoude, for example, in "The Lay of the Honeysuckle," is quite +perfect in tone, and, indeed, is a little masterpiece in its own +fashion. But her sketch of Guenevere in "The Lay of Sir Launfal" is of a +character that one does not recall with pleasure. To see how Arthur's +Queen might be treated, we have but to turn to the pages of a +contemporary, and learn from Chrestien de Troyes' "Knight of the Cart," +how an even more considerable poet than Marie could deal with a Celtic +legend. The fact is that Marie's romances derive farther back than any +Breton or Celtic dream. They were so old that they had blown like +thistledown about the four quarters of the world. Her princesses came +really neither from Wales nor Brittany. They were of that stuff from +which romance is shaped. "Her face was bright as the day of union; her +hair dark as the night of separation; and her mouth was magical as +Solomon's seal." You can parallel her "Lays" from folklore, from +classical story and antiquity. Father and son fight together unwittingly +in "The Lay of Milon"; but Rustum had striven with Sohrab long before in +far Persia, and Cuchulain with his child in Ireland. Such stories are +common property. The writer takes his own where he finds it. Marie is +none the less admirable because her stories were narrated by the first +man in Eden; neither are Boccaccio and the Countess D'Aulnoy blameworthy +since they told again what she already had related so well. Marie, +indeed, was an admirable narrator. That was one of her shining virtues. +As a piece of artful tale telling, a specimen of the craft of keeping a +situation in suspense, the arrival of the lady before Arthur's Court, in +"The Lay of Sir Launfal," requires a deal of beating. The justness and +fineness of her sentiment in all that concerns the delicacies of the +human heart are also remarkable. But her true business was that of the +storyteller. In that trade she was almost unapproachable in her day. +There may have been—indeed, there was—a more considerable poet living; +but a more excellent writer of romances, than the author of "Eliduc," it +would have been difficult to find.</p> + +<p>The ladies who found the "Lays" of Marie after their +own hearts were not only admirers of beautiful stories; they +had the delicate privilege also of admiring themselves in +their habit as they lived—perhaps even lovelier than in reality—amidst +their accustomed surroundings. The pleasure of a +modern reader in such tales as these is enhanced by the +light they throw on the household arrangements and customs +of the gentlefolk of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. It +may be of interest to consider some of these domestic +arrangements, as illustrated by stories included in the present +volume.</p> + +<p>The corporate life of a mediaeval household centered in +the hall. It was office and dining and billiard room, and +was common to gentle and simple alike. The hall was by +far the largest room in the house. It was lighted by +windows, and warmed by an open fire of logs. The smoke +drifted about the roof, escaping finally by the simple means +of a lantern placed immediately above the hearth. A beaten +floor was covered by rushes and fresh hay, or with rugs in +that part affected by the more important members of the +household. The lord himself and his wife sat in chairs upon +a raised daïs. The retainers were seated on benches around +the wall, and before them was spread the dining table—a +mere board upon trestles—which was removed when once +the meal was done. After supper, chess and draughts were +played, or (as we may see in "The Lay of the Thorn") +minstrels sang ballads and the guest contributed to the +general entertainment by the recital of such jests and +adventures as commended themselves to his taste. If the +hall may be considered as the dining room of the mediaeval +home, the garden might almost be looked upon as the +drawing room. You would probably get more real privacy +in the garden than in any other part of the crowded castle, +including the lady's chamber. It is no wonder that we read +of Guenevere taking Launfal aside for a little private conversation +in her pleasaunce. It was not only the most +private, but also the most delightful room in the house—ceiled +with blue and carpeted with green. The garden was +laid out elaborately with a perron and many raised seats. +Trees stood about the lawn in tubs, and there was generally +a fountain playing in the centre, or possibly a pond, stocked +with fish. Fruit trees and flower beds grew thickly about +the garden, and a pleasanter place of perfume and colour and +shade it would be difficult to imagine in the summer heat. +The third room of which we hear continually in these +romances is the lady's chamber. It served the purpose of a +boudoir as well as that of a sleeping room, and consequently +had little real privacy. It contained the marriage chest with +its store of linen, and also the bed. This bed recurs eternally +in mediæval tales. It was used as a seat during the day, +and as a resting-place of nights. It was a magnificent +erection, carved and gilded, and inlaid with ivory. Upon it +was placed a mattress of feathers, and a soft pillow. The +sheets were of linen or silk, and over all was spread a +coverlet of some precious material. An excellent description +of such a couch is given in "The Lay of Gugemar." This +chamber served also as a bath room, and there the bath was +taken, piping hot, in the strange vessel, fashioned somewhat +like a churn, that we see in pictures of the Middle Ages.</p> + +<p>Of the dress of the ladies who moved about the castle, +seeing themselves reflected from Marie's pages as in a +polished mirror, I am not competent to speak. The type of +beauty preferred by the old romancers was that of a child's +princess of fairy tale—blue-eyed, golden-haired, and ruddy +of cheek. The lady would wear a shift of linen, "white as +meadow flower." Over this was worn a garment of fur or +silk, according to the season; and, above all, a vividly +coloured gown, all in one line from neck to feet, shapen +closely to the figure, or else the more loosely fitting bliaut. +Her girdle clipped her closely about the waist, falling to the +hem of her skirt, and her feet were shod in soundless shoes, +without heels. The hair was arranged in two long braids, +brought forward over her shoulders; as worn by those +smiling Queens wrought upon the western porch of Chartres +Cathedral. Out of doors, and, indeed, frequently within, as +may be proved by a reference to "The Lay of the Ash Tree," +the lady was clad in a mantle and a hood. It must have +taken a great deal of time and travail to appear so dainty a +production. But to become poetry for others, it is necessary +for a woman first to be prose to herself.</p> + +<p>I am afraid the raw material of this radiant divinity had +much to endure before she suffered her sea change. In +mediaeval illustrations we see the maiden sitting demurely +in company, with downcast eyes, and hands folded modestly +in her lap. This unnatural restraint was induced by the +lavish compulsion of the rod. If there was one text, above +all others, approved and acted upon by fathers and mothers +of the Middle Ages, it was that exhorting parents not to +cocker their child, neither to wink at his follies, but to beat +him on the sides with a stick. Turn to "The Lay of the +Thorn," and mark the gusto with which a mother disciplines +her maid. Parents trained their children with blows. +Husbands (ah, the audacity of the mediaeval husband) +scattered the like seeds of kindness on their wives. In a +book written for the edification of his unmarried daughters, +Chaucer's contemporary, the Knight of La Tour Landry, +tells the following interesting anecdote. A man had a +scolding wife, who railed ungovernably upon him before +strangers, "and he that was angry of her governance smote +her with his first down to the earth; and then with his foot +he struck her on the visage, and broke her nose; and all her +life after that she had her nose crooked, the which shent and +disfigured her visage after, that she might not for shame +show her visage, it was so foul blemished. And this she +had for her evil and great language that she was wont to say +to her husband. And therefore the wife ought to suffer, and +let the husband have the words, and to be master." May +I give yet another illustration before we pass from the +subject. This time it is taken not from a French knight, +but from a sermon of the great Italian preacher, St. +Bernardino of Siena. "There are men who can bear more +patiently with a hen that lays a fresh egg every day than +with their own wives; and sometimes when the hen breaks +a pipkin or a cup he will spare it a beating, simply for love +of the fresh egg which he is unwilling to lose. Oh, raving +madmen! who cannot bear a word from their own wives, +though they bear them such fair fruit; but when the woman +speaks a word more than they like, then they catch up a +stick, and begin to cudgel her; while the hen that cackles +all day, and gives you no rest, you take patience with her +for the sake of her miserable egg—and sometimes she will +break more in your house than she herself is worth, yet +you bear it in patience for the egg's sake. Many fidgetty +fellows, who sometimes see their wives turn out less neat +and dainty than they would like, smite them forthwith; and +meanwhile the hen may make a mess on the table, and you +suffer her. Have patience; it is not right to beat your wife +for every cause, no!"</p> + +<p>At the commencement of this Introduction I stated that +Marie's romances are concerned mainly with love. Her +talent was not very wide nor rich, and I have no doubt that +there were facets of her personality which she was unable +to get upon paper. The prettiest girl in the world can only +give what she has to give. By the time any reader reaches +the end of this volume he will be assured that the stories are +stories of love. Probably he will have noticed also that, in +many cases, the lady who inspires the most delicate of +sentiments is, incidentally, a married woman. He may ask +why this was so; and in answer I propose to conclude my +paper with a few observations upon the subject of mediaeval +love.</p> + +<p>I doubt in my own mind whether romance writers do not +exaggerate what was certainly a characteristic of the Middle +Ages. To be ordinary is to be uninteresting; and it is +obvious that the stranger the experience, the more likely is +it to attract the interest and attention of the hearer. Blessed +is the person—as well as the country—who has no history. +But it was really very difficult for the twelfth century poet +to write a love story, with a maiden as the central figure. +The noble maiden seldom had a love story. It is true enough +that she was sometimes referred to in the choice of her +husband: two young ladies in "A Story of Beyond the +Sea" are both consulted in the matter. As a rule, however, +her inclination was not permitted to stand in the way of the +interests of her parents or guardians. She was betrothed +in childhood, and married very young, for mercenary or +political reasons, to a husband much older than herself. We +read of a girl of twelve being married to a man of fifty. +There was no great opportunity for a love story here; and +the strange entreaty, on the part of the nameless French +poet, to love the maidens for the sake of Christ's love, +passed over the heads of the romance writers. Not that the +mediæval maidens showed any shrinking from matrimony. +"Fair daughter, I have given you a husband." "Blessed +be God," said the damsel. There spoke a contented spirit. +Things have changed, and we can but sigh after the good +old times.</p> + +<p>But the maiden inevitably became the wife, and the +whirligig of Time brought in his revenges. The lady now +found herself the most important member of her sex, in a +dwelling filled with men. She had few women about her +person, and the confidant of a great dame in old romance +is, frequently enough, her chamberlain. These young men +had no chance of marriage, and naturally strove to gain the +attention of a lady, whose favour was to them so important +a matter. A mediæval knight was the sworn champion of +God and the ladies—but more especially the latter. The +chatelaine, herself, found time hang heavily on her hands. +Amusements were few; books limited in number; a husband +not of absorbing interest; so she turned to such distractions +as presented themselves. The prettier a lady, the sweeter +the incense and flattery swung beneath her nose; for this +was one of the disadvantages of marrying an attractive +woman. "It is hard to keep a wife whom everyone admires; +and if no one admires her it is hard to have to live with her +yourself." One of these distractions took the shape of +Courts of Love, where the bored but literary chatelaine +discussed delicate problems of conduct pertaining to the +heart. The minstrel about the lady's castle, for his part, +sought her favourable notice not only by his songs but also +by giving an object lesson of his melancholy condition. One +would imagine that his proceedings were not always +calculated to further their purpose. A famous singer, for +instance, in honour of a lady who was named Lupa, caused +himself to be sewn in a wolf's skin, and ran before the +hounds till he was pulled down, half dead. Another great +minstrel and lover bought a leper's gown and bowl and +clapper from some afflicted wretch. He mutilated his forefinger, +and sat before his lady's door, in the company of a +piteous crowd of sick and maimed, to await her alms. No +doubt he trusted that his devotion would procure him a +different kind of charity. From such discussions as these, +and from conduct such as this, a type of love came into being +which was peculiar to the period. Since the lovers were +not bound in the sweet and common union of children and +home, since on the side of the lady all was of grace and +nought of debt, they searched out other bands to unite them +together. These they found in a system of devotion, silence +and faithfulness, which added a dignity to their relations. +These virtues they took so seriously that we find the +Chatelaine of Vergi dying because she believed her lover to +have betrayed her trust. The mediaeval romancer contemplated +such unions with joy and pity; but for all their +virtues we must not deceive ourselves with words. Such +honour was rooted in dishonour, and the measure of their +guilt was that they debased the moral currency. Presently the +greatest of all the poets of the Middle Ages would arise, to teach +a different fashion of devotion. His was a love that sought no +communion with its object, neither speech nor embrace. It +was sufficient for Dante to contemplate Beatrice from afar, +as one might kneel before the picture of a saint. I do not +say that a love like this—so spiritual and so aloof—will ever +be possible to men. It did not suffice even to Dante, for all +his tremendous moral muscle. Human love must always +and inevitably be founded on a physical basis. But the +burning drop of idealism that Dante contributed to the +passion of the Middle Ages has made possible the love of +which we now and again catch a glimpse in the union of +select natures. And that the seed of such flowering may be +carried about the world is one of the fairest hopes and +possibilities of the human race.</p> + +<p>EUGENE MASON.</p> + +<p>The originals of these narratives are to be found in +Roquefort's edition of the Poésies de Marie de France; in a +volume of the Nouvelles Françoises en Prose, edited by +Moland and D'Héricault; and in M. Gaston Raynaud's text +of La Chatelaine de Vergi.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CONTENTS"></a><h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<br> + + +<p>INTRODUCTION</p> + +<p><a href="#I"><b>I</b></a>. PROLOGUE BY WAY OF DEDICATION</p> + +<p><a href="#II"><b>II</b></a>. THE LAY OF GUGEMAR</p> + +<p><a href="#III"><b>III</b></a>. THE LAY OF THE DOLOROUS KNIGHT</p> + +<p><a href="#IV"><b>IV</b></a>. THE LAY OF ELIDUC</p> + +<p><a href="#V"><b>V.</b></a>. THE LAY OF THE NIGHTINGALE</p> + +<p><a href="#VI"><b>VI</b></a>. THE LAY OF SIR LAUNFAL</p> + +<p><a href="#VII"><b>VII</b></a>. THE LAY OF THE TWO LOVERS</p> + +<p><a href="#VIII"><b>VIII</b></a>. THE LAY OF THE WERE-WOLF</p> + +<p><a href="#IX"><b>IX</b></a>. THE LAY OF THE ASH TREE</p> + +<p><a href="#X"><b>X</b></a>. THE LAY OF THE HONEYSUCKLE</p> + +<p><a href="#XI"><b>XI</b></a>. THE LAY OF EQUITAN</p> + +<p><a href="#XII"><b>XII</b></a>. THE LAY OF MILON</p> + +<p><a href="#XIII"><b>XIII</b></a>. THE LAY OF YONEC</p> + +<p><a href="#XIV"><b>XIV</b></a>. THE LAY OF THE THORN</p> + +<p><a href="#XV"><b>XV</b></a>. THE LAY OF GRAELENT</p> + +<p><a href="#XVI"><b>XVI</b></a>. A STORY OF BEYOND THE SEA</p> + +<p><a href="#XVII"><b>XVII</b></a>. THE CHATELAINE OF VERGI</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="I"></a><h2>I</h2> +<br> + +<p>PROLOGUE</p> + +<p>BY WAY OF DEDICATION</p> + +<p>Those to whom God has given the gift of comely speech, +should not hide their light beneath a bushel, but should +willingly show it abroad. If a great truth is proclaimed +in the ears of men, it brings forth fruit a hundred-fold; +but when the sweetness of the telling is praised of many, +flowers mingle with the fruit upon the branch.</p> + +<p>According to the witness of Priscian, it was the custom +of ancient writers to express obscurely some portions +of their books, so that those who came after might +study with greater diligence to find the thought within +their words. The philosophers knew this well, and were +the more unwearied in labour, the more subtle in distinctions, +so that the truth might make them free. +They were persuaded that he who would keep himself +unspotted from the world should search for knowledge, +that he might understand. To set evil from me, and to +put away my grief, I purposed to commence a book. +I considered within myself what fair story in the Latin +or Romance I could turn into the common tongue. +But I found that all the stories had been written, and +scarcely it seemed the worth my doing, what so many +had already done. Then I called to mind those Lays +I had so often heard. I doubted nothing—for well I +know—that our fathers fashioned them, that men +should bear in remembrance the deeds of those who +have gone before. Many a one, on many a day, the +minstrel has chanted to my ear. I would not that they +should perish, forgotten, by the roadside. In my turn, +therefore, I have made of them a song, rhymed as well +as I am able, and often has their shaping kept me sleepless +in my bed.</p> + +<p>In your honour, most noble and courteous King, to +whom joy is a handmaid, and in whose heart all gracious +things are rooted, I have brought together these Lays, +and told my tales in seemly rhyme. Ere they speak +for me, let me speak with my own mouth, and say, +"Sire, I offer you these verses. If you are pleased to +receive them, the fairer happiness will be mine, and the +more lightly I shall go all the days of my life. Do not +deem that I think more highly of myself than I ought +to think, since I presume to proffer this, my gift." +Hearken now to the commencement of the matter.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="II"></a><h2>II</h2> +<br> + +<p>THE LAY OF GUGEMAR</p> + +<p>Hearken, oh gentles, to the words of Marie. When +the minstrel tells his tale, let the folk about the fire heed +him willingly. For his part the singer must be wary +not to spoil good music with unseemly words. Listen, +oh lordlings, to the words of Marie, for she pains herself +grievously not to forget this thing. The craft is hard—then +approve the more sweetly him who carols the tune. +But this is the way of the world, that when a man or +woman sings more tunably than his fellows, those about +the fire fall upon him, pell-mell, for reason of their +envy. They rehearse diligently the faults of his song, +and steal away his praise with evil words. I will brand +these folk as they deserve. They, and such as they, are +like mad dogs—cowardly and felon—who traitorously +bring to death men better than themselves. Now let the +japer, and the smiler with his knife, do me what harm +they may. Verily they are in their right to speak ill of +me.</p> + +<p>Hearken, oh gentles, to the tale I set before you, for +thereof the Bretons already have made a Lay. I will +not do it harm by many words, and here is the commencement +of the matter. According to text and +scripture, now I relate a certain adventure, which +bechanced in the realm of Brittany, in days long gone +before.</p> + +<p>In that time when Arthur maintained his realm, the +now in peace, the now in war, the King counted amongst +his vassals a certain baron, named Oridial. This +knight was lord of Leon, and was very near to his +prince's heart, both in council chamber and in field. +From his wife he had gotten two children, the one a son +and the other a fair daughter. Nogent, he had called +the damsel at the font, and the dansellon was named +Gugemar—no goodlier might be found in any realm. +His mother had set all her love upon the lad, and his +father shewed him every good that he was able. When +the varlet was no more a child, Oridial sent him to +the King, to be trained as a page in the courtesies of +the Court. Right serviceable was he in his station, and +meetly praised of all. The term of his service having +come, and he being found of fitting years and knowledge, +the King made him knight with his own hand, and +armed him in rich harness, according to his wish. So +Gugemar gave gifts to all those about his person, and +bidding farewell, took leave, and departed from the Court. +Gugemar went his way to Flanders, being desirous of advancement, +for in that kingdom ever they have strife +and war. Neither in Loraine nor Burgundy, Anjou nor +Gascony, might be found in that day a better knight +than he, no, nor one his peer. He had but one fault, +since of love he took no care. There was neither dame +nor maiden beneath the sky, however dainty and kind, +to whom he gave thought or heed, though had he +required her love of any damsel, very willingly would she +have granted his desire. Many there were who prayed him +for his love, but might have no kiss in return. So seeing +that he refrained his heart in this fashion, men deemed +him a strange man, and one fallen into a perilous case.</p> + +<p>In the flower of his deeds the good knight returned +to his own land, that he might see again his father +and lord, his mother and his sister, even as he very +tenderly desired. He lodged with them for the space +of a long month, and at the end of that time had envy +to hunt within the wood. The night being come, +Gugemar summoned his prickers and his squires, and +early in the morning rode within the forest. Great +pleasure had Gugemar in the woodland, and much he +delighted in the chase. A tall stag was presently started, +and the hounds being uncoupled, all hastened in pursuit—the +huntsmen before, and the good knight following +after, winding upon his horn. Gugemar rode at a great +pace after the quarry, a varlet riding beside, bearing his +bow, his arrows and his spear. He followed so hotly +that he over-passed the chase. Gazing about him +he marked, within a thicket, a doe hiding with her +fawn. Very white and wonderful was this beast, for she +was without spot, and bore antlers upon her head. The +hounds bayed about her, but might not pull her down. +Gugemar bent his bow, and loosed a shaft at the quarry. +He wounded the deer a little above the hoof, so that +presently she fell upon her side. But the arrow glanced +away, and returning upon itself, struck Gugemar +in the thigh, so grievously, that straightway he fell from +his horse upon the ground. Gugemar lay upon the grass, +beside the deer which he had wounded to his hurt. +He heard her sighs and groans, and perceived the +bitterness of her pity. Then with mortal speech the doe +spake to the wounded man in such fashion as this, +"Alas, my sorrow, for now am I slain. But thou, +Vassal, who hast done me this great wrong, do not think +to hide from the vengeance of thy destiny. Never may +surgeon and his medicine heal your hurt. Neither herb +nor root nor potion can ever cure the wound within your +flesh: For that there is no healing. The only balm to +close that sore must be brought by a woman, who for her +love will suffer such pain and sorrow as no woman +in the world has endured before. And to the dolorous +lady, dolorous knight. For your part you shall do and +suffer so great things for her, that not a lover beneath +the sun, or lovers who are dead, or lovers who yet shall +have their day, but shall marvel at the tale. Now, go +from hence, and let me die in peace."</p> + +<p>Gugemar was wounded twice over—by the arrow, and +by the words he was dismayed to hear. He considered +within himself to what land he must go to find this +healing for his hurt, for he was yet too young to die. He +saw clearly, and told it to his heart, that there was no +lady in his life to whom he could run for pity, and +be made whole of his wound. He called his varlet +before him,</p> + +<p>"Friend," said he, "go forthwith, and bring my comrades +to this place, for I have to speak with them."</p> + +<p>The varlet went upon his errand, leaving his master +sick with the heat and fever of his hurt. When he was +gone, Gugemar tore the hem from his shirt, and bound +it straitly about his wound. He climbed painfully +upon the saddle, and departed without more ado, for he +was with child to be gone before any could come to stay +him from his purpose. A green path led through +the deep forest to the plain, and his way across the +plain brought him to a cliff, exceeding high, and to the sea. +Gugemar looked upon the water, which was very still, for +this fair harbourage was land-locked from the main. +Upon this harbour lay one only vessel, bearing a rich +pavilion of silk, daintily furnished both without and +within, and well it seemed to Gugemar that he had seen +this ship before. Beneath the sky was no ship so rich +or precious, for there was not a sail but was spun of silk, +and not a plank, from keel to mast, but showed of ebony. +Too fair was the nave for mortal man, and Gugemar held +it in sore displeasure. He marvelled greatly from +what country it had come, and wondered long concerning +this harbour, and the ship that lay therein. Gugemar +got him down from his horse upon the shore, and with +mighty pain and labour climbed within the ship. He +trusted to find merchantmen and sailors therein, but +there was none to guard, and none he saw. Now within +the pavilion was a very rich bed, carved by cunning +workmen in the days of King Solomon. This fair bed +was wrought of cypress wood and white ivory, adorned +with gold and gems most precious. Right sweet were the +linen cloths upon the bed, and so soft the pillow, that +he who lay thereon would sleep, were he sadder than any +other in the world. The counterpane was of purple from +the vats of Alexandria, and over all was set a right fair +coverlet of cloth of gold. The pavilion was litten by two +great waxen torches, placed in candlesticks of fine gold, +decked with jewels worth a lord's ransom. So the +wounded knight looked on ship and pavilion, bed and +candle, and marvelled greatly. Gugemar sat him down +upon the bed for a little, because of the anguish of his +wound. After he had rested a space he got upon his feet, +that he might quit the vessel, but he found that for him +there was no return. A gentle wind had filled the +sails, and already he was in the open sea. When +Gugemar saw that he was far from land, he was very +heavy and sorrowful. He knew not what to do, by +reason of the mightiness of his hurt. But he must +endure the adventure as best he was able; so he prayed +to God to take him in His keeping, and in His good pleasure +to bring him safe to port, and deliver him from the peril of +death. Then climbing upon the couch, he laid his +head upon the pillow, and slept as one dead, until, with +vespers, the ship drew to that haven where he might find +the healing for his hurt.</p> + +<p>Gugemar had come to an ancient city, where the +King of that realm held his court and state. This King +was full of years, and was wedded to a dame of high +degree. The lady was of tender age, passing fresh +and fair, and sweet of speech to all. Therefore was the +King jealous of his wife beyond all measure. Such is the +wont of age, for much it fears that old and young cannot +mate together, and that youth will turn to youth. This +is the death in life of the old.</p> + +<p>The castle of this ancient lord had a mighty keep. +Beneath this tower was a right fair orchard, together +with a close, shut in by a wall of green marble, very +strong and high. This wall had one only gate, and the +door was watched of warders, both night and day. On +the other side of this garden was the sea, so that none +might do his errand in the castle therefrom, save in a +boat. To hold his dame in the greater surety, the +King had built a bower within the wall; there was no +fairer chamber beneath the sun. The first room was +the Queen's chapel. Beyond this was the lady's bedchamber, +painted all over with shapes and colours +most wonderful to behold. On one wall might be seen +Dame Venus, the goddess of Love, sweetly flushed as +when she walked the water, lovely as life, teaching men +how they should bear them in loyal service to their +lady. On another wall, the goddess threw Ovid's book +within a fire of coals. A scroll issuing from her lips +proclaimed that those who read therein, and strove to +ease them of their pains, would find from her neither +service nor favour. In this chamber the lady was put +in ward, and with her a certain maiden to hold her +company. This damsel was her niece, since she was her +sister's child, and there was great love betwixt the twain. +When the Queen walked within the garden, or went +abroad, this maiden was ever by her side, and came +again with her to the house. Save this damsel, neither +man nor woman entered in the bower, nor issued forth +from out the wall. One only man possessed the key of +the postern, an aged priest, very white and frail. This +priest recited the service of God within the chapel, and +served the Queen's plate and cup when she ate meat +at table.</p> + +<p>Now, on a day, the Queen had fallen asleep after meat, +and on her awaking would walk a little in the garden. +She called her companion to her, and the two went +forth to be glad amongst the flowers. As they looked +across the sea they marked a ship drawing near the land, +rising and falling upon the waves. Very fearful was the +Queen thereat, for the vessel came to anchorage, though +there was no helmsman to direct her course. The dame's +face became sanguine for dread, and she turned her +about to flee, because of her exceeding fear. Her maiden, +who was of more courage than she, stayed her mistress +with many comforting words. For her part she was very +desirous to know what this thing meant. She hastened +to the shore, and laying aside her mantle, climbed +within this wondrous vessel. Thereon she found no +living soul, save only the knight sleeping fast within +the pavilion. The damsel looked long upon the knight, +for pale he was as wax, and well she deemed him dead. +She returned forthwith to the Queen, and told her of +this marvel, and of the good knight who was slain.</p> + +<p>"Let us go together on the ship," replied the lady. +"If he be dead we may give him fitting burial, and the +priest shall pray meetly for his soul. Should he be yet +alive perchance he will speak, and tell us of his case."</p> + +<p>Without more tarrying the two damsels mounted +on the ship, the lady before, and her maiden following +after. When the Queen entered in the pavilion she +stayed her feet before the bed, for joy and grief of what +she saw. She might not refrain her eyes from gazing +on the knight, for her heart was ravished with his beauty, +and she sorrowed beyond measure, because of his grievous +hurt. To herself she said, "In a bad hour cometh the +goodly youth." She drew near the bed, and placing +her hand upon his breast, found that the flesh was warm, +and that the heart beat strongly in his side. Gugemar +awoke at the touch, and saluted the dame as sweetly +as he was able, for well he knew that he had come to +a Christian land. The lady, full of thought, returned +him his salutation right courteously, though the tears +were yet in her eyes. Straightway she asked of him +from what realm he came, and of what people, and in +what war he had taken his hurt.</p> + +<p>"Lady," answered Gugemar, "in no battle I received +this wound. If it pleases you to hear my tale I will +tell you the truth, and in nothing will I lie. I am a +knight of Little Brittany. Yesterday I chased a wonderful +white deer within the forest. The shaft with which +I struck her to my hurt, returned again on me, +and caused this wound upon my thigh, which may never +be searched, nor made whole. For this wondrous +Beast raised her plaint in a mortal tongue. She cursed +me loudly, with many evil words, swearing that never +might this sore be healed, save by one only damsel in +the world, and her I know not where to find. When I +heard my luckless fate I left the wood with what speed +I might, and coming to a harbour, not far from thence, +I lighted on this ship. For my sins I climbed therein. +Then without oars or helm this boat ravished me from +shore; so that I know not where I have come, nor +what is the name of this city. Fair lady, for God's love, +counsel me of your good grace, for I know not where to +turn, nor how to govern the ship."</p> + +<p>The lady made answer, +"Fair sir, willingly shall I give you such good counsel +as I may. This realm and city are the appanage of my +husband. He is a right rich lord, of high lineage, but +old and very full of years. Also he is jealous beyond +all measure; therefore it is that I see you now. By +reason of his jealousy he has shut me fast between +high walls, entered by one narrow door, with an ancient +priest to keep the key. May God requite him for his +deed. Night and day I am guarded in this prison, +from whence I may never go forth, without the knowledge +of my lord. Here are my chamber and my chapel, and +here I live, with this, my maiden, to bear me company. +If it pleases you to dwell here for a little, till you may +pass upon your way, right gladly we shall receive you, +and with a good heart we will tend your wound, till +you are healed."</p> + +<p>When Gugemar heard this speech he rejoiced greatly. +He thanked the lady with many sweet words, and +consented to sojourn in her hall awhile. He raised himself +upon his couch, and by the courtesy of the damsels left +the ship. Leaning heavily upon the lady, at the end +he won to her maiden's chamber, where there was a +fair bed covered with a rich dossal of broidered silk, +edged with fur. When he was entered in this bed, the +damsels came bearing clear water in basins of gold, +for the cleansing of his hurt. They stanched the blood +with a towel of fine linen, and bound the wound strictly, +to his exceeding comfort. So after the vesper meal was +eaten, the lady departed to her own chamber, leaving +the knight in much ease and content.</p> + +<p>Now Gugemar set his love so fondly upon the lady +that he forgot his father's house. He thought no more +of the anguish of his hurt, because of another wound +that was beneath his breast. He tossed and sighed in +his unrest, and prayed the maiden of his service to depart, +so that he might sleep a little. When the maid was gone, +Gugemar considered within himself whether he might +seek the dame, to know whether her heart was warmed +by any ember of the flame that burned in his. He turned +it this way and that, and knew not what to do. This +only was clear, that if the lady refused to search his +wound, death, for him, was sure and speedy.</p> + +<p>"Alas," said he, "what shall I do! Shall I go to my +lady, and pray her pity on the wretch who has none +to give him counsel? If she refuse my prayer, because +of her hardness and pride, I shall know there is nought +for me but to die in my sorrow, or, at least, to go heavily +all the days of my life."</p> + +<p>Then he sighed, and in his sighing lighted on a better +purpose; for he said within himself that doubtless +he was born to suffer, and that the best of him was tears. +All the long night he spent in vigil and groanings and +watchfulness. To himself he told over her words and +her semblance. He remembered the eyes and the fair +mouth of his lady, and all the grace and the sweetness, +which had struck like a knife at his heart. Between +his teeth he cried on her for pity, and for a little more +would have called her to his side. Ah, had he but +known the fever of the lady, and how terrible a lord +to her was Love, how great had been his joy and solace. +His visage would have been the more sanguine, which +was now so pale of colour, because of the dolour that +was his. But if the knight was sick by reason of his +love, the dame had small cause to boast herself of +health. The lady rose early from her bed, since she +might not sleep. She complained of her unrest, and of +Love who rode her so hardly. The maiden, who was +of her company, saw clearly enough that all her lady's +thoughts were set upon the knight, who, for his healing, +sojourned in the chamber. She did not know whether his +thoughts were given again to the dame. When, therefore, +the lady had entered in the chapel, the damsel went +straightway to the knight. He welcomed her gladly, +and bade her be seated near the bed. Then he inquired, +"Friend, where now is my lady, and why did she +rise so early from her bed?"</p> + +<p>Having spoken so far, he became silent, and sighed.</p> + +<p>"Sir," replied the maiden softly, "you love, and are +discreet, but be not too discreet therein. In such a +love as yours there is nothing to be ashamed. He who +may win my lady's favour has every reason to be proud +of his fortune. Altogether seemly would be your +friendship, for you are young, and she is fair."</p> + +<p>The knight made answer to the maiden, +"I am so fast in the snare, that I pray the fowler +to slay me, if she may not free me from the net. Counsel +me, fair sweet friend, if I may hope of kindness at her +hand."</p> + +<p>Then the maiden of her sweetness comforted the knight, +and assured him of all the good that she was able. So +courteous and debonair was the maid.</p> + +<p>When the lady had heard Mass, she hastened back +to the chamber. She had not forgotten her friend, +and greatly she desired to know whether he was awake +or asleep, of whom her heart was fain. She bade her +maiden to summon him to her chamber, for she had a +certain thing in her heart to show him at leisure, were +it for the joy or the sorrow of their days.</p> + +<p>Gugemar saluted the lady, and the dame returned +the knight his courtesy, but their hearts were too +fearful for speech. The knight dared ask nothing of +his lady, for reason that he was a stranger in a strange +land, and was adread to show her his love. But—as +says the proverb—he who will not tell of his sore, may +not hope for balm to his hurt. Love is a privy wound +within the heart, and none knoweth of that bitterness +but the heart alone. Love is an evil which may last +for a whole life long, because of man and his constant +heart. Many there be who make of Love a gibe and a +jest, and with specious words defame him by boastful +tales. But theirs is not love. Rather it is folly and +lightness, and the tune of a merry song. But let him +who has found a constant lover prize her above rubies, +and serve her with loyal service, being altogether at +her will. Gugemar loved in this fashion, and therefore +Love came swiftly to his aid. Love put words in his +mouth, and courage in his heart, so that his hope might +be made plain.</p> + +<p>"Lady," said he, "I die for your love. I am in fever +because of my wound, and if you care not to heal my +hurt I would rather die. Fair friend, I pray you for +grace. Do not gainsay me with evil words."</p> + +<p>The lady hearkened with a smile to Gugemar's +speech. Right daintily and sweetly she replied, +"Friend, yea is not a word of two letters. I do not +grant such a prayer every day of the week, and must +you have your gift so quickly?"</p> + +<p>"Lady," cried he, "for God's sake pity me, and take +it not amiss. She, who loves lightly, may make her +lover pray for long, so that she may hide how often her +feet have trodden the pathway with another friend. +But the honest dame, when she has once given her heart +to a friend, will not deny his wish because of pride. +The rather she will find her pride in humbleness, and +love him again with the same love he has set on her. +So they will be glad together, and since none will have +knowledge or hearing of the matter, they will rejoice +in their youth. Fair, sweet lady, be this thy pleasure?"</p> + +<p>When the lady heard these words well she found them +honest and true. Therefore without further prayings +and ado she granted Gugemar her love and her kiss. +Henceforward Gugemar lived greatly at his ease, for +he had sight and speech of his friend, and many a time +she granted him her embrace and tenderness, as is the +wont of lovers when alone.</p> + +<p>For a year and a half Gugemar dwelt with his lady, +in solace and great delight. Then Fortune turned her +wheel, and in a trice cast those down, whose seat had +been so high. Thus it chanced to them, for they were +spied upon and seen.</p> + +<p>On a morning in summer time the Queen and the +damoiseau sat fondly together. The knight embraced +her, eyes and face, but the lady stayed him, saying, +"Fair sweet friend, my heart tells me that I shall +lose you soon, for this hidden thing will quickly be made +clear. If you are slain, may the same sword kill me. +But if you win forth, well I know that you will find +another love, and that I shall be left alone with my +thoughts. Were I parted from you, may God give me +neither joy, nor rest, nor peace, if I would seek another +friend. Of that you need have no fear. Friend, for surety +and comfort of my heart deliver me now some sark +of thine. Therein I will set a knot, and make this +covenant with you, that never will you put your love +on dame or maiden, save only on her who shall first +unfasten this knot. Then you will ever keep faith with +me, for so cunning shall be my craft, that no woman +may hope to unravel that coil, either by force or guile, +or even with her knife."</p> + +<p>So the knight rendered the sark to his lady, and made +such bargain as she wished, for the peace and assurance +of her mind.</p> + +<p>For his part the knight took a fair girdle, and girt +it closely about the lady's middle. Right secret was the +clasp and buckle of this girdle. Therefore he required +of the dame that she would never grant her love, save +to him only, who might free her from the strictness of +this bond, without injury to band or clasp. Then they +kissed together, and entered into such covenant as you +have heard.</p> + +<p>That very day their hidden love was made plain to +men. A certain chamberlain was sent by that ancient +lord with a message to the Queen. This unlucky wretch, +finding that in no wise could he enter within the chamber, +looked through the window, and saw. Forthwith he +hastened to the King, and told him that which he had +seen. When the agèd lord understood these words, +never was there a sadder man than he. He called +together the most trusty sergeants of his guard, and +coming with them to the Queen's chamber, bade them +to thrust in the door. When Gugemar was found therein, +the King commanded that he should be slain with the +sword, by reason of the anguish that was his. Gugemar +was in no whit dismayed by the threat. He started to +his feet, and gazing round, marked a stout rod of fir, +on which it is the use for linen to be hung. This he +took in hand, and faced his foes, bidding them have a +care, for he would do a mischief to them all. The King +looked earnestly upon the fearless knight, inquiring +of him who he was, and where he was born, and in what +manner he came to dwell within his house. So Gugemar +told over to him this story of his fate. He showed him +of the Beast that he had wounded to his hurt; of the +nave, and of his bitter wound; of how he came within +the realm, and of the lady's surgery. He told all to +the ancient lord, to the last moment when he stood within +his power. The King replied that he gave no credence +to his word, nor believed that the story ran as he had +said. If, however, the vessel might be found, he would +commit the knight again to the waves. He would go +the more heavily for the knight's saining, and a +glad day would it be if he made shipwreck at sea. +When they had entered into this covenant together, +they went forth to the harbour, and there discovered +the barge, even as Gugemar had said. So they set +him thereon, and prayed him to return unto his own +realm.</p> + +<p>Without sail or oar the ship parted from that coast, +with no further tarrying. The knight wept and wrung +his hands, complaining of his lady's loss, and of her +cherishing. He prayed the mighty God to grant him +speedy death, and never to bring him home, save to +meet again with her who was more desirable than life. +Whilst he was yet at his orisons, the ship drew again +to that port, from whence she had first come. Gugemar +made haste to get him from the vessel, so that he +might the more swiftly return to his own land. He +had gone but a little way when he was aware of a +squire of his household, riding in the company of a certain +knight. This squire held the bridle of a destrier in his +hand, though no man rode thereon. Gugemar called +to him by name, so that the varlet looking upon him, +knew again his lord. He got him to his feet, and bringing +the destrier to his master, set the knight thereon. Great +was the joy, and merry was the feast, when Gugemar +returned to his own realm. But though his friends did +all that they were able, neither song nor game could +cheer the knight, nor turn him from dwelling in his +unhappy thoughts. For peace of mind they urged that +he took to himself a wife, but Gugemar would have +none of their counsel. Never would he wed a wife, on +any day, either for love or for wealth, save only that +she might first unloose the knot within his shirt. When +this news was noised about the country, there was neither +dame nor damsel in the realm of Brittany, but essayed +to unfasten the knot. But there was no lady who could +gain to her wish, whether by force or guile.</p> + +<p>Now will I show of that lady, whom Gugemar so +fondly loved. By the counsel of a certain baron the +ancient King set his wife in prison. She was shut fast +in a tower of grey marble, where her days were bad, +and her nights worse. No man could make clear to you +the great pain, the anguish and the dolour, that she +suffered in this tower, wherein, I protest, she died daily. +Two years and more she lay bound in prison, where +warders came, but never joy or delight. Often she +thought upon her friend.</p> + +<p>"Gugemar, dear lord, in an evil hour I saw you with +my eyes. Better for me that I die quickly, than endure +longer my evil lot. Fair friend, if I could but win to +that coast whence you sailed, very swiftly would I +fling myself in the sea, and end my wretched life." +When she had said these words she rose to her feet, +and coming to the door was amazed to find therein +neither bolt nor key. She issued forth, without challenge +from sergeant or warder, and hastening to the harbour, +found there her lover's ship, made fast to that very +rock, from which she would cast her down. When she +saw the barge she climbed thereon, but presently +bethought her that on this nave her friend had gone +to perish in the sea. At this thought she would have +fled again to the shore, but her bones were as water, and +she fell upon the deck. So in sore travail and sorrow, +the vessel carried her across the waves, to a port of +Brittany, guarded by a castle, strong and very fair. +Now the lord of this castle was named Meriadus. He +was a right warlike prince, and had made him ready to +fight with the prince of a country near by. He had +risen very early in the morning, to send forth a great +company of spears, the more easily to ravage this +neighbour's realm. Meriadus looked forth from his +window, and marked the ship which came to port. +He hastened down the steps of the perron, and calling to +his chamberlain, came with what speed he might to +the nave. Then mounting the ladder he stood upon +the deck. When Meriadus found within the ship a +dame, who for beauty seemed rather a fay than a mere +earthly woman, he seized her by her mantle, and brought +her swiftly to his keep. Right joyous was he because +of his good fortune, for lovely was the lady beyond +mortal measure. He made no question as to who had +set her on the barge. He knew only that she was fair, +and of high lineage, and that his heart turned towards +her with so hot a love as never before had he put on +dame or damsel. Now there dwelt within the castle +a sister of this lord, who was yet unwed. Meriadus +bestowed the lady in his sister's chamber, because it +was the fairest in the tower. Moreover he commanded +that she should be meetly served, and held in all reverence. +But though the dame was so richly clothed and +cherished, ever was she sad and deep in thought. +Meriadus came often to cheer her with mirth and speech, +by reason that he wished to gain her love as a free gift, +and not by force. It was in vain that he prayed her for +grace, since she had no balm for his wound. For answer +she showed him the girdle about her body, saying that +never would she give her love to man, save only to him +who might unloose the buckle of that girdle, without +harm to belt or clasp. When Meriadus heard these +words, he spoke in haste and said,</p> + +<p>"Lady, there dwells in this country a very worthy +knight, who will take no woman as wife, except she +first untie a certain crafty knot in the hem of a shirt, +and that without force or knife. For a little I would +wager that it was you who tied this knot."</p> + +<p>When the lady heard thereof her breath went from +her, and near she came to falling on the ground. +Meriadus caught her in his arms, and cut the laces of +her bodice, that she might have the more air. He +strove to unfasten her girdle, but might not dissever the +clasp. Yea, though every knight in the realm essayed +to unfasten that cincture, it would not yield, except +to one alone.</p> + +<p>Now Meriadus made the lists ready for a great +jousting, and called to that tournament all the knights +who would aid him in his war. Many a lord came at his +bidding, and with them Gugemar, amongst the first. +Meriadus had sent letters to the knight, beseeching +him, as friend and companion, not to fail him in this +business. So Gugemar hastened to the need of his +lord, and at his back more than one hundred spears. +All these Meriadus welcomed very gladly, and gave +them lodging within his tower. In honour of his guest, +the prince sent two gentlemen to his sister, praying +her to attire herself richly, and come to hall, together +with the dame whom he loved so dearly well. These +did as they were bidden, and arrayed in their sweetest +vesture, presently entered in the hall, holding each other +by the hand. Very pale and pensive was the lady, but +when she heard her lover's name her feet failed beneath +her, and had not the maiden held her fast, she would +have fallen on the floor. Gugemar rose from his seat +at the sight of the dame, her fashion and her semblance, +and stood staring upon her. He went a little apart, +and said within himself, +"Can this be my sweet friend, my hope, my heart, +my life, the fair lady who gave me the grace of her love? +From whence comes she; who might have brought her +to this far land? But I speak in my folly, for well I +know that this is not my dear. A little red, a little +white, and all women are thus shapen. My thoughts +are troubled, by reason that the sweetness of this lady +resembles the sweetness of that other, for whom my heart +sighs and trembles. Yet needs must that I have speech +of the lady."</p> + +<p>Gugemar drew near to the dame. He kissed her +courteously, and found no word to utter, save to pray +that he might be seated at her side. Meriadus spied +upon them closely, and was the more heavy because +of their trouble. Therefore he feigned mirth.</p> + +<p>"Gugemar, dear lord, if it pleases you, let this damsel +essay to untie the knot of your sark, if so be she may +loosen the coil."</p> + +<p>Gugemar made answer that very willingly he would +do this thing. He called to him a squire who had the +shirt in keeping, and bade him seek his charge, and +deliver it to the dame. The lady took the sark in hand. +Well she knew the knot that she had tied so cunningly, +and was so willing to unloose; but for reason of the +trouble at her heart, she did not dare essay. Meriadus +marked the distress of the damsel, and was more +sorrowful than ever was lover before.</p> + +<p>"Lady," said he, "do all that you are able to unfasten +this coil."</p> + +<p>So at his commandment she took again to her the +hem of the shirt, and lightly and easily unravelled the +tie.</p> + +<p>Gugemar marvelled greatly when he saw this thing. +His heart told him that of a truth this was his lady, +but he could not give faith to his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Friend, are you indeed the sweet comrade I have +known? Tell me truly now, is there about your body +the girdle with which I girt you in your own realm?"</p> + +<p>He set his hands to her waist, and found that the +secret belt was yet about her sides.</p> +<br> + +<p>"Fair sweet friend, tell me now by what adventure +I find you here, and who has brought you to this tower?"</p> + +<p>So the lady told over to her friend the pain and the +anguish and the dolour of the prison in which she was +held; of how it chanced that she fled from her dungeon, +and lighting upon a ship, entered therein, and came +to this fair haven; of how Meriadus took her from the +barge, but kept her in all honour, save only that ever +he sought for her love; "but now, fair friend, all is well, +for you hold your lady in your arms."</p> + +<p>Gugemar stood upon his feet, and beckoned with his +hand.</p> + +<p>"Lords," he cried, "hearken now to me. I have +found my friend, whom I have lost for a great while. +Before you all I pray and require of Meriadus to yield +me my own. For this grace I give him open thanks. +Moreover I will kneel down, and become his liege man. +For two years, or three, if he will, I will bargain to serve +in his quarrels, and with me, of riders, a hundred or +more at my back."</p> + +<p>Then answered Meriadus, +"Gugemar, fair friend, I am not yet so shaken or +overborne in war, that I must do as you wish, right +humbly. This woman is my captive. I found her: +I hold her: and I will defend my right against you +and all your power."</p> + +<p>When Gugemar heard these proud words he got to +horse speedily, him and all his company. He threw +down his glove, and parted in anger from the tower. But +he went right heavily, since he must leave behind his +friend. In his train rode all those knights who had drawn +together to that town for the great tournament. Not +a knight of them all but plighted faith to follow where he +led, and to hold himself recreant and shamed if he failed +his oath.</p> +<br> + +<p>That same night the band came to the castle of the +prince with whom Meriadus was at war. He welcomed +them very gladly, and gave them lodging in his tower. +By their aid he had good hope to bring this quarrel to +an end. Very early in the morning the host came together +to set the battle in array. With clash of mail and noise +of horns they issued from the city gate, Gugemar riding +at their head. They drew before the castle where +Meriadus lay in strength, and sought to take it by storm. +But the keep was very strong, and Meriadus bore himself +as a stout and valiant knight. So Gugemar, like a wary +captain, sat himself down before the town, till all the folk +of that place were deemed by friend and sergeant to be +weak with hunger. Then they took that high keep with +the sword, and burnt it with fire. The lord thereof they +slew in his own hall; but Gugemar came forth, after +such labours as you have heard, bearing his lady with +him, to return in peace to his own land.</p> + +<p>From this adventure that I have told you, has come +the Lay that minstrels chant to harp and viol—fair +is that song and sweet the tune.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="III"></a><h2>III</h2> + +<p>THE LAY OF THE DOLOROUS KNIGHT</p> +<br> + +<p>Hearken now to the Lay that once I heard a minstrel +chanting to his harp. In surety of its truth I will +name the city where this story passed. The Lay of the +Dolorous Knight, my harper called his song, but of those +who hearkened, some named it rather, The Lay of the +Four Sorrows.</p> + +<p>In Nantes, of Brittany, there dwelt a dame who was +dearly held of all, for reason of the much good that +was found in her. This lady was passing fair of body, +apt in book as any clerk, and meetly schooled in every +grace that it becometh dame to have. So gracious of +person was this damsel, that throughout the realm there +was no knight could refrain from setting his heart upon +her, though he saw her but one only time. Although the +demoiselle might not return the love of so many, certainly +she had no wish to slay them all. Better by far that a +man pray and require in love all the dames of his country, +than run mad in woods for the bright eyes of one. +Therefore this dame gave courtesy and good will to each +alike. Even when she might not hear a lover's words, so +sweetly she denied his wish that the more he held her dear +and was the more her servant for that fond denial. So +because of her great riches of body and of heart, this lady +of whom I tell, was prayed and required in love by +the lords of her country, both by night and by day.</p> + +<p>Now in Brittany lived four young barons, but their +names I cannot tell. It is enough that they were desirable +in the eyes of maidens for reason of their beauty, and +that men esteemed them because they were courteous of +manner and open of hand. Moreover they were stout and +hardy knights amongst the spears, and rich and worthy +gentlemen of those very parts. Each of these four knights +had set his heart upon the lady, and for love of her +pained himself mightily, and did all that he was able, so +that by any means he might gain her favour. Each +prayed her privily for her love, and strove all that he +could to make him worthy of the gift, above his fellows. +For her part the lady was sore perplexed, and considered +in her mind very earnestly, which of these four knights +she should take as friend. But since they all were +loyal and worthy gentlemen, she durst not choose +amongst them; for she would not slay three lovers +with her hand so that one might have content. Therefore +to each and all, the dame made herself fair and +sweet of semblance. Gifts she gave to all alike. Tender +messages she sent to each. Every knight deemed himself +esteemed and favoured above his fellows, and by soft +words and fair service diligently strove to please. When +the knights gathered together for the games, each of +these lords contended earnestly for the prize, so that he +might be first, and draw on him the favour of his dame. +Each held her for his friend. Each bore upon him her +gift—pennon, or sleeve, or ring. Each cried her name +within the lists.</p> + +<p>Now when Eastertide was come, a great tournament +was proclaimed to be held beyond the walls of Nantes, +that rich city. The four lovers were the appellants in +this tourney, and from every realm knights rode to +break a lance in honour of their dame. Frenchman +and Norman and Fleming; the hardiest knights of +Brabant, Boulogne and Anjou; each came to do his +devoir in the field. Nor was the chivalry of Nantes +backward in this quarrel, but till the vespers of the +tournament was come, they stayed themselves within +the lists, and struck stoutly for their lord. After the +four lovers had laced their harness upon them, they +issued forth from the city, followed by the knights who +were of their company in this adventure. But upon the +four fell the burden of the day, for they were known +of all by the embroidered arms upon their surcoat, +and the device fashioned on the shield. Now against +the four lovers arrayed themselves four other knights, +armed altogether in coats of mail, and helmets and +gauntlets of steel. Of these stranger knights two were +of Hainault, and the two others were Flemings. When +the four lovers saw their adversaries prepare themselves +for the combat, they had little desire to flee, but hastened +to join them in battle. Each lowered his spear, and +choosing his enemy, met him so eagerly that all men +wondered, for horse and man fell to the earth. The +four lovers recked little of their destriers, but freeing +their feet from the stirrups bent over the fallen foe, +and called on him to yield. When the friends of the +vanquished knights saw their case, they hastened to +their succour; so for their rescue there was a great press, +and many a mighty stroke with the sword.</p> + +<p>The damsel stood upon a tower to watch these feats +of arms. By their blazoned coats and shields she knew +her knights; she saw their marvellous deeds, yet might +not say who did best, nor give to one the praise. But +the tournament was no longer a seemly and ordered +battle. The ranks of the two companies were confused +together, so that every man fought against his fellow, +and none might tell whether he struck his comrade or +his foe. The four lovers did well and worshipfully, so +that all men deemed them worthy of the prize. But +when evening was come, and the sport drew to its close, +their courage led them to folly. Having ventured too +far from their companions, they were set upon by their +adversaries, and assailed so fiercely that three were +slain outright. As to the fourth he yet lived, but +altogether mauled and shaken, for his thigh was broken, +and a spear head remained in his side. The four bodies +were fallen on the field, and lay with those who had +perished in that day. But because of the great mischief +these four lovers had done their adversaries, their +shields were cast despitefully without the lists; but +in this their foemen did wrongfully, and all men held +them in sore displeasure.</p> + +<p>Great were the lamentation and the cry when the +news of this mischance was noised about the city. Such +a tumult of mourning was never before heard, for the +whole city was moved. All men hastened forth to the +place where the lists were set. Meetly to mourn the +dead there rode nigh upon two thousand knights, with +hauberks unlaced, and uncovered heads, plucking upon +their beards. So the four lovers were placed each upon +his shield, and being brought back in honour to Nantes, +were carried to the house of that dame, whom so greatly +they had loved. When the lady knew this distressful +adventure, straightway she fell to the ground. Being +returned from her swoon, she made her complaint, +calling upon her lovers each by his name.</p> + +<p>"Alas," said she, "what shall I do, for never shall +I know happiness again. These four knights had set their +hearts upon me, and despite their great treasure, +esteemed my love as richer than all their wealth. Alas, +for the fair and valiant knight! Alas, for the loyal and +generous man! By gifts such as these they sought to +gain my favour, but how might lady bereave three of +life, so as to cherish one. Even now I cannot tell for +whom I have most pity, or who was closest to my mind. +But three are dead, and one is sore stricken; neither +is there anything in the world which can bring me +comfort. Only this is there to do—to give the slain +men seemly burial, and, if it may be, to heal their +comrade of his wounds."</p> + +<p>So, because of her great love and nobleness, the lady +caused these three distressful knights to be buried well +and worshipfully in a rich abbey. In that place she +offered their Mass penny, and gave rich offerings of +silver and of lights besides. May God have mercy +on them in that day. As for the wounded knight +she commanded him to be carried to her own chamber. +She sent for surgeons, and gave him into their hands. +These searched his wounds so skilfully, and tended him +with so great care, that presently his hurt commenced +to heal. Very often was the lady in the chamber, and +very tenderly she cherished the stricken man. Yet ever +she felt pity for the three Knights of the Sorrows, and +ever she went heavily by reason of their deaths.</p> + +<p>Now on a summer's day, the lady and the knight +sat together after meat. She called to mind the sorrow +that was hers; so that, in a space, her head fell upon +her breast, and she gave herself altogether to her grief. +The knight looked earnestly upon his dame. Well he +might see that she was far away, and clearly he perceived +the cause.</p> + +<p>"Lady," said he, "you are in sorrow. Open now +your grief to me. If you tell me what is in your heart +perchance I may find you comfort."</p> + +<p>"Fair friend," replied she, "I think of what is gone, +and remember your companions, who are dead. Never +was lady of my peerage, however fair and good and +gracious, ever loved by four such valiant gentlemen, +nor ever lost them in one single day. Save you—who +were so maimed and in such peril—all are gone. Therefore +I call to mind those who loved me so dearly, and am +the saddest lady beneath the sun. To remember these +things, of you four I shall make a Lay, and will call it +the Lay of the Four Sorrows."</p> + +<p>When the knight heard these words he made answer +very swiftly, +"Lady, name it not the Lay of the Four Sorrows, +but, rather, the Lay of the Dolorous Knight. Would +you hear the reason why it should bear this name? +My three comrades have finished their course; they +have nothing more to hope of their life. They are gone, +and with them the pang of their great sorrow, and the +knowledge of their enduring love for you. I alone have +come, all amazed and fearful, from the net wherein +they were taken, but I find my life more bitter than my +comrades found the grave. I see you on your goings +and comings about the house. I may speak with you +both matins and vespers. But no other joy do I get— +neither clasp nor kiss, nothing but a few empty, courteous +words. Since all these evils are come upon me because +of you, I choose death rather than life. For this reason +your Lay should bear my name, and be called the Lay +of the Dolorous Knight. He who would name it the +Lay of the Four Sorrows would name it wrongly, and +not according to the truth."</p> + +<p>"By my faith," replied the lady, "this is a fair +saying. So shall the song be known as the Lay of the +Dolorous Knight."</p> + +<p>Thus was the Lay conceived, made perfect, and +brought to a fair birth. For this reason it came by its +name; though to this day some call it the Lay of the +Four Sorrows. Either name befits it well, for the story +tells of both these matters, but it is the use and wont +in this land to call it the Lay of the Dolorous Knight. +Here it ends; no more is there to say. I heard no +more, and nothing more I know. Perforce I bring my +story to a close.</p> + +<a name="IV"></a><h2>IV</h2> + +<p>THE LAY OF ELIDUC</p> +<br> + +<p>Now will I rehearse before you a very ancient Breton +Lay. As the tale was told to me, so, in turn, will I tell +it over again, to the best of my art and knowledge. +Hearken now to my story, its why and its reason.</p> + +<p>In Brittany there lived a knight, so courteous and so +brave, that in all the realm there was no worthier lord than +he. This knight was named Eliduc. He had wedded in +his youth a noble lady of proud race and name. They +had long dwelt together in peace and content, for their +hearts were fixed on one another in faith and loyalty. +Now it chanced that Eliduc sought his fortune in a +far land, where there was a great war. There he loved +a Princess, the daughter of the King and Queen of those +parts. Guillardun was the maiden's name, and in all +the realm was none more fair. The wife of Eliduc had to +name, Guildeluec, in her own country. By reason of +these two ladies their story is known as the Lay of Guildeluec +and Guillardun, but at first it was rightly called +the Lay of Eliduc. The name is a little matter; but +if you hearken to me you shall learn the story of these +three lovers, in its pity and its truth.</p> + +<p>Eliduc had as lord and suzerain, the King of Brittany +over Sea. The knight was greatly loved and cherished +of his prince, by reason of his long and loyal service. +When the King's business took him from his realm, +Eliduc was his master's Justice and Seneschal. He +governed the country well and wisely, and held it from +the foe with a strong hand. Nevertheless, in spite of +all, much evil was appointed unto him. Eliduc was a +mighty hunter, and by the King's grace, he would chase +the stag within the woods. He was cunning and fair as +Tristan, and so wise in venery, that the oldest forester +might not gainsay him in aught concerning the shaw. +But by reason of malice and envy, certain men accused +him to the King that he had meddled with the royal +pleasaunce. The King bade Eliduc to avoid his Court. +He gave no reason for his commandment, and the knight +might learn nothing of the cause. Often he prayed the +King that he might know whereof he was accused. +Often he begged his lord not to heed the specious and +crafty words of his foes. He called to mind the wounds +he had gained in his master's wars, but was answered +never a word. When Eliduc found that he might get +no speech with his lord, it became his honour to depart. +He returned to his house, and calling his friends around +him, opened out to them this business of the King's +wrath, in recompense for his faithful service.</p> + +<p>"I did not reckon on a King's gratitude; but as the +proverb says, it is useless for a farmer to dispute with +the horse in his plough. The wise and virtuous man +keeps faith to his lord, and bears goodwill to his neighbour, +not for what he may receive in return."</p> + +<p>Then the knight told his friends that since he might +no longer stay in his own country, he should cross the +sea to the realm of Logres, and sojourn there awhile, +for his solace. His fief he placed in the hands of his wife, +and he required of his men, and of all who held him +dear, that they would serve her loyally. Having given +good counsel to the utmost of his power, the knight +prepared him for the road. Right heavy were his friends +and kin, that he must go forth from amongst them.</p> + +<p>Eliduc took with him ten knights of his household, and +set out on his journey. His dame came with him so far +as she was able, wringing her hands, and making much +sorrow, at the departure of her husband. At the end +he pledged good faith to her, as she to him, and so she +returned to her own home. Eliduc went his way, till +he came to a haven on the sea. He took ship, and sailed +to the realm of Totenois, for many kings dwell in that +country, and ever there were strife and war. Now, +near to Exeter, in this land, there dwelt a King, right +rich and strong, but old and very full of years. He had +no son of his body, but one maid only, young, and of +an age to wed. Since he would not bestow this damsel +on a certain prince of his neighbours, this lord made +mortal war upon his fellow, spoiling and wasting all +his land. The ancient King, for surety, had set his +daughter within a castle, fair and very strong. He had +charged the sergeants not to issue forth from the gates, +and for the rest there was none so bold as to seek to +storm the keep, or even to joust about the barriers. +When Eliduc was told of this quarrel, he needed to go +no farther, and sojourned for awhile in the land. He +turned over in his mind which of these princes dealt +unjustly with his neighbour. Since he deemed that the +agèd king was the more vexed and sorely pressed in +the matter, he resolved to aid him to the best of his +might, and to take arms in his service. Eliduc, therefore, +wrote letters to the King, telling him that he had +quitted his own country, and sought refuge in the King's +realm. For his part he was willing to fight as a mercenary +in the King's quarrel, and if a safe conduct were +given him, he and the knights of his company would +ride, forthwith, to their master's aid. This letter, +Eliduc sent by the hands of his squires to the King. +When the ancient lord had read the letter, he rejoiced +greatly, and made much of the messengers. He summoned +his constable, and commanded him swiftly to +write out the safe conduct, that would bring the baron +to his side. For the rest he bade that the messengers +meetly should be lodged and apparelled, and that such +money should be given them as would be sufficient to +their needs. Then he sealed the safe conduct with his +royal seal, and sent it to Eliduc, straightway, by a sure +hand.</p> + +<p>When Eliduc came in answer to the summons, he +was received with great honour by the King. His +lodging was appointed in the house of a grave and +courteous burgess of the city, who bestowed the fairest +chamber on his guest. Eliduc fared softly, both at bed +and board. He called to his table such good knights +as were in misease, by reason of prison or of war. He +charged his men that none should be so bold as to take +pelf or penny from the citizens of the town, during the +first forty days of their sojourn. But on the third day, +it was bruited about the streets, that the enemy were +near at hand. The country folk deemed that they +approached to invest the city, and to take the gates +by storm. When the noise and clamour of the fearful +burgesses came to the ears of Eliduc, he and his company +donned their harness, and got to horse, as quickly as +they might. Forty horsemen mounted with him; as +to the rest, many lay sick or hurt within the city, and +others were captives in the hands of the foe. These +forty stout sergeants waited for no sounding of trumpets; +they hastened to seek their captain at his lodging, and +rode at his back through the city gate.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said they, "where you go, there we will follow, +and what you bid us, that shall we do."</p> + +<p>"Friends," made answer the knight, "I thank you +for your fellowship. There is no man amongst us but +who wishes to molest the foe, and do them all the mischief +that he is able. If we await them in the town, we +defend ourselves with the shield, and not with the +sword. To my mind it is better to fall in the field than +to hide behind walls; but if any of you have a wiser +counsel to offer, now let him speak."</p> + +<p>"Sir," replied a soldier of the company, "through +the wood, in good faith, there runs a path, right strict +and narrow. It is the wont of the enemy to approach +our city by this track. After their deeds of arms before +the walls, it is their custom to return by the way they +came, helmet on saddle bow, and hauberk unbraced. +If we might catch them, unready in the path, we could +trouble them very grievously, even though it be at the +peril of our lives."</p> + +<p>"Friends," answered Eliduc, "you are all the King's +men, and are bound to serve him faithfully, even to +the death. Come, now, with me where I will go, and +do that thing which you shall see me do. I give you my +word as a loyal gentleman, that no harm shall hap to +any. If we gain spoil and riches from the foe, each shall +have his lot in the ransom. At the least we may do them +much hurt and mischief in this quarrel."</p> + +<p>Eliduc set his men in ambush, near by that path, +within the wood. He told over to them, like a cunning +captain, the crafty plan he had devised, and taught them +how to play their parts, and to call upon his name. +When the foe had entered on that perilous path, and +were altogether taken in the snare, Eliduc cried his +name, and summoned his companions to bear themselves +like men. This they did stoutly, and assailed their +enemy so fiercely that he was dismayed beyond measure, +and his line being broken, fled to the forest. In this +fight was the constable taken, together with fifty and +five other lords, who owned themselves prisoners, and +were given to the keeping of the squires. Great was +the spoil in horse and harness, and marvellous was the +wealth they gained in gold and ransom. So having +done such great deeds in so short a space, they returned +to the city, joyous and content.</p> + +<p>The King looked forth from a tower. He feared +grievously for his men, and made his complaint of +Eliduc, who—he deemed—had betrayed him in his need. +Upon the road he saw a great company, charged and +laden with spoil. Since the number of those who +returned was more than those who went forth, the king +knew not again his own. He came down from the tower, +in doubt and sore trouble, bidding that the gates should +be made fast, and that men should mount upon the walls. +For such coil as this, there was slender warrant. A +squire who was sent out, came back with all speed, and +showed him of this adventure. He told over the story of +the ambush, and the tale of the prisoners. He rehearsed +how the constable was taken, and that many a knight +was wounded, and many a brave man slain. When the +King might give credence thereto, he had more joy than +ever king before. He got him from his tower, and going +before Eliduc, he praised him to his face, and rendered +him the captives as a gift. Eliduc gave the King's +bounty to his men. He bestowed on them besides, all +the harness and the spoil; keeping, for his part, but +three knights, who had won much honour in the battle. +From this day the King loved and cherished Eliduc very +dearly. He held the knight, and his company, for a full +year in his service, and at the end of the year, such faith +had he in the knight's loyalty, that he appointed him +Seneschal and Constable of his realm.</p> + +<p>Eliduc was not only a brave and wary captain; he +was also a courteous gentleman, right goodly to behold.</p> + +<p>That fair maiden, the daughter of the King, heard tell +of his deeds, and desired to see his face, because of the +good men spake of him. She sent her privy chamberlain +to the knight, praying him to come to her house, that +she might solace herself with the story of his deeds, for +greatly she wondered that he had no care for her friendship. +Eliduc gave answer to the chamberlain that +he would ride forthwith, since much he desired to +meet so high a dame. He bade his squire to saddle +his destrier, and rode to the palace, to have speech +with the lady. Eliduc stood without the lady's +chamber, and prayed the chamberlain to tell the dame +that he had come, according to her wish. The chamberlain +came forth with a smiling face, and straightway +led him in the chamber. When the princess saw the +knight, she cherished him very sweetly, and welcomed +him in the most honourable fashion. The knight +gazed upon the lady, who was passing fair to see. +He thanked her courteously, that she was pleased to +permit him to have speech with so high a princess. +Guillardun took Eliduc by the hand, and seated him +upon the bed, near her side. They spake together of +many things, for each found much to say. The maiden +looked closely upon the knight, his face and semblance; +to her heart she said that never before had she beheld +so comely a man. Her eyes might find no blemish in +his person, and Love knocked upon her heart, requiring +her to love, since her time had come. She sighed, and her +face lost its fair colour; but she cared only to hide her +trouble from the knight, lest he should think her the +less maidenly therefore. When they had talked together +for a great space, Eliduc took his leave, and went +his way. The lady would have kept him longer gladly, +but since she did not dare, she allowed him to depart. +Eliduc returned to his lodging, very pensive and deep +in thought. He called to mind that fair maiden, +the daughter of his King, who so sweetly had bidden +him to her side, and had kissed him farewell, with +sighs that were sweeter still. He repented him right +earnestly that he had lived so long a while in the land +without seeking her face, but promised that often +he would enter her palace now. Then he remembered +the wife whom he had left in his own house. He +recalled the parting between them, and the covenant +he made, that good faith and stainless honour should +be ever betwixt the twain. But the maiden, from +whom he came, was willing to take him as her knight! +If such was her will, might any pluck him from her +hand?</p> + +<p>All night long, that fair maiden, the daughter of the +King, had neither rest nor sleep. She rose up, very +early in the morning, and commanding her chamberlain, +opened out to him all that was in her heart. She leaned +her brow against the casement.</p> + +<p>"By my faith," she said, "I am fallen into a deep +ditch, and sorrow has come upon me. I love Eliduc, +the good knight, whom my father made his Seneschal. +I love him so dearly that I turn the whole night upon +my bed, and cannot close my eyes, nor sleep. If he +assured me of his heart, and loved me again, all my +pleasure should be found in his happiness. Great +might be his profit, for he would become King of this +realm, and little enough is it for his deserts, so courteous +is he and wise. If he have nothing better than friendship +to give me, I choose death before life, so deep is +my distress."</p> + +<p>When the princess had spoken what it pleased her to +say, the chamberlain, whom she had bidden, gave her +loyal counsel.</p> + +<p>"Lady," said he, "since you have set your love upon +this knight, send him now—if so it please you—some +goodly gift-girdle or scarf or ring. If he receive the +gift with delight, rejoicing in your favour, you may be +assured that he loves you. There is no Emperor, under +Heaven, if he were tendered your tenderness, but would +go the more lightly for your grace."</p> + +<p>The damsel hearkened to the counsel of her chamberlain, +and made reply, +"If only I knew that he desired my love! Did ever +maiden woo her knight before, by asking whether he +loved or hated her? What if he make of me a mock and +a jest in the ears of his friends! Ah, if the secrets of the +heart were but written on the face! But get you ready, +for go you must, at once."</p> + +<p>"Lady," answered the chamberlain, "I am ready to +do your bidding."</p> + +<p>"You must greet the knight a hundred times in my +name, and will place my girdle in his hand, and this my +golden ring."</p> + +<p>When the chamberlain had gone upon his errand, the +maiden was so sick at heart, that for a little she would +have bidden him return. Nevertheless, she let him +go his way, and eased her shame with words.</p> + +<p>"Alas, what has come upon me, that I should put my +heart upon a stranger. I know nothing of his folk, +whether they be mean or high; nor do I know whether he +will part as swiftly as he came. I have done foolishly, +and am worthy of blame, since I have bestowed my +love very lightly. I spoke to him yesterday for +the first time, and now I pray him for his love. +Doubtless he will make me a song! Yet if he be the +courteous gentleman I believe him, he will understand, +and not deal hardly with me. At least the dice are +cast, and if he may not love me, I shall know myself +the most woeful of ladies, and never taste of joy all +the days of my life."</p> +<br> + +<p>Whilst the maiden lamented in this fashion, the chamberlain +hastened to the lodging of Eliduc. He came +before the knight, and having saluted him in his lady's +name, he gave to his hand the ring and the girdle. The +knight thanked him earnestly for the gifts. He placed +the ring upon his finger, and the girdle he girt about his +body. He said no more to the chamberlain, nor asked +him any questions; save only that he proffered him a +gift. This the messenger might not have, and returned +the way he came. The chamberlain entered in the palace +and found the princess within her chamber. He greeted +her on the part of the knight, and thanked her for her +bounty.</p> + +<p>"Diva, diva," cried the lady hastily, "hide nothing +from me; does he love me, or does he not?"</p> + +<p>"Lady," answered the chamberlain, "as I deem, he +loves you, and truly. Eliduc is no cozener with words. +I hold him for a discreet and prudent gentleman, who +knows well how to hide what is in his heart. I gave him +greeting in your name, and granted him your gifts. He +set the ring upon his finger, and as to your girdle, he girt +it upon him, and belted it tightly about his middle. I +said no more to him, nor he to me; but if he received not +your gifts in tenderness, I am the more deceived. Lady, I +have told you his words: I cannot tell you his thoughts. +Only, mark carefully what I am about to say. If +Eliduc had not a richer gift to offer, he would not have +taken your presents at my hand."</p> + +<p>"It pleases you to jest," said the lady. "I know well +that Eliduc does not altogether hate me. Since my only +fault is to cherish him too fondly, should he hate me, +he would indeed be blameworthy. Never again by you, +or by any other, will I require him of aught, or look to +him for comfort. He shall see that a maiden's love is no +slight thing, lightly given, and lightly taken again—but, +perchance, he will not dwell in the realm so long as to +know of the matter."</p> + +<p>"Lady, the knight has covenanted to serve the King, +in all loyalty, for the space of a year. You have full +leisure to tell, whatever you desire him to learn."</p> + +<p>When the maiden heard that Eliduc remained in the +country, she rejoiced very greatly. She was glad that the +knight would sojourn awhile in her city, for she knew +naught of the torment he endured, since first he looked +upon her. He had neither peace nor delight, for he +could not get her from his mind. He reproached himself +bitterly. He called to remembrance the covenant he +made with his wife, when he departed from his own land, +that he would never be false to his oath. But his heart +was a captive now, in a very strong prison. He desired +greatly to be loyal and honest, but he could not deny his +love for the maiden—Guillardun, so frank and so fair.</p> + +<p>Eliduc strove to act as his honour required. He had +speech and sight of the lady, and did not refuse her kiss +and embrace. He never spoke of love, and was diligent +to offend in nothing. He was careful in this, because he +would keep faith with his wife, and would attempt no +matter against his King. Very grievously he pained himself, +but at the end he might do no more. Eliduc +caused his horse to be saddled, and calling his companions +about him, rode to the castle to get audience of +the King. He considered, too, that he might see his +lady, and learn what was in her heart. It was the hour +of meat, and the King having risen from table, had entered +in his daughter's chamber. The King was at chess, +with a lord who had but come from over-sea. The lady +sat near the board, to watch the movements of the game. +When Eliduc came before the prince, he welcomed him +gladly, bidding him to seat himself close at hand. Afterwards +he turned to his daughter, and said, +"Princess, it becomes you to have a closer friendship +with this lord, and to treat him well and worshipfully. +Amongst five hundred, there is no better knight than he."</p> + +<p>When the maiden had listened demurely to her father's +commandment, there was no gayer lady than she. She +rose lightly to her feet, and taking the knight a little from +the others, seated him at her side. They remained silent, +because of the greatness of their love. She did not dare +to speak the first, and to him the maid was more dreadful +than a knight in mail. At the end Eliduc thanked her +courteously for the gifts she had sent him; never was +grace so precious and so kind. The maiden made answer +to the knight, that very dear to her was the use he had +found for her ring, and the girdle with which he had +belted his body. She loved him so fondly that she +wished him for her husband. If she might not have her +wish, one thing she knew well, that she would take no +living man, but would die unwed. She trusted he would +not deny her hope.</p> + +<p>"Lady," answered the knight, "I have great joy in +your love, and thank you humbly for the goodwill you +bear me. I ought indeed to be a happy man, since you +deign to show me at what price you value our friendship. +Have you remembered that I may not remain always in +your realm? I covenanted with the King to serve him +as his man for the space of one year. Perchance I may +stay longer in his service, for I would not leave him till +his quarrel be ended. Then I shall return to my own +land; so, fair lady, you permit me to say farewell."</p> + +<p>The maiden made answer to her knight, +"Fair friend, right sweetly I thank you for your +courteous speech. So apt a clerk will know, without +more words, that he may have of me just what he would. +It becomes my love to give faith to all you say."</p> + +<p>The two lovers spoke together no further; each was +well assured of what was in the other's heart. Eliduc +rode back to his lodging, right joyous and content. +Often he had speech with his friend, and passing great +was the love which grew between the twain.</p> + +<p>Eliduc pressed on the war so fiercely that in the end +he took captive the King who troubled his lord, and had +delivered the land from its foes. He was greatly praised +of all as a crafty captain in the field, and a hardy comrade +with the spear. The poor and the minstrel counted +him a generous knight. About this time that King, +who had bidden Eliduc avoid his realm, sought diligently +to find him. He had sent three messengers beyond the +seas to seek his ancient Seneschal. A strong enemy +had wrought him much grief and loss. All his castles +were taken from him, and all his country was a spoil +to the foe. Often and sorely he repented him of the evil +counsel to which he had given ear. He mourned the +absence of his mightiest knight, and drove from his +councils those false lords who, for malice and envy, +had defamed him. These he outlawed for ever from his +realm. The King wrote letters to Eliduc, conjuring +him by the loving friendship that was once between +them, and summoning him as a vassal is required of +his lord, to hasten to his aid, in that his bitter need. +When Eliduc heard these tidings they pressed heavily +upon him, by reason of the grievous love he bore the +dame. She, too, loved him with a woman's whole heart. +Between the two there was nothing but the purest love +and tenderness. Never by word or deed had they spoiled +their friendship. To speak a little closely together; +to give some fond and foolish gift; this was the sum +of their love. In her wish and hope the maiden trusted +to hold the knight in her land, and to have him as her +lord. Naught she deemed that he was wedded to a wife +beyond the sea.</p> + +<p>"Alas," said Eliduc, "I have loitered too long in +this country, and have gone astray. Here I have set +my heart on a maiden, Guillardun, the daughter of the +King, and she, on me. If, now, we part, there is no +help that one, or both, of us, must die. Yet go I must. +My lord requires me by letters, and by the oath of fealty +that I have sworn. My own honour demands that I +should return to my wife. I dare not stay; needs must +I go. I cannot wed my lady, for not a priest in Christendom +would make us man and wife. All things turn to +blame. God, what a tearing asunder will our parting +be! Yet there is one who will ever think me in the right, +though I be held in scorn of all. I will be guided by her +wishes, and what she counsels that will I do. The King, +her sire, is troubled no longer by any war. First, I will +go to him, praying that I may return to my own land, +for a little, because of the need of my rightful lord. +Then I will seek out the maiden, and show her the whole +business. She will tell me her desire, and I shall act +according to her wish."</p> + +<p>The knight hesitated no longer as to the path he should +follow. He went straight to the King, and craved leave +to depart. He told him the story of his lord's distress, +and read, and placed in the King's hands, the letters +calling him back to his home. When the King had read +the writing, and knew that Eliduc purposed to depart, +he was passing sad and heavy. He offered the knight +the third part of his kingdom, with all the treasure that +he pleased to ask, if he would remain at his side. He +offered these things to the knight—these, and the +gratitude of all his days besides.</p> + +<p>"Do not tempt me, sire," replied the knight. "My +lord is in such deadly peril, and his letters have come +so great a way to require me, that go I must to aid him +in his need. When I have ended my task, I will return +very gladly, if you care for my services, and with me a +goodly company of knights to fight in your quarrels."</p> + +<p>The King thanked Eliduc for his words, and granted +him graciously the leave that he demanded. He gave +him, moreover, all the goods of his house; gold and +silver, hound and horses, silken cloths, both rich and +fair, these he might have at his will. Eliduc took of +them discreetly, according to his need. Then, very +softly, he asked one other gift. If it pleased the King, +right willingly would he say farewell to the princess, +before he went. The King replied that it was his pleasure, +too. He sent a page to open the door of the maiden's +chamber, and to tell her the knight's request. When +she saw him, she took him by the hand, and saluted him +very sweetly. Eliduc was the more fain of counsel +than of claspings. He seated himself by the maiden's +side, and as shortly as he might, commenced to show +her of the business. He had done no more than read her +of his letters, than her face lost its fair colour, and near +she came to swoon. When Eliduc saw her about to +fall, he knew not what he did, for grief. He kissed her +mouth, once and again, and wept above her, very +tenderly. He took, and held her fast in his arms, till +she had returned from her swoon.</p> + +<p>"Fair dear friend," said he softly, "bear with me +while I tell you that you are my life and my death, +and in you is all my comfort. I have bidden farewell +to your father, and purposed to go back to my own land, +for reason of this bitter business of my lord. But my +will is only in your pleasure, and whatever the future +brings me, your counsel I will do."</p> + +<p>"Since you cannot stay," said the maiden, "take +me with you, wherever you go. If not, my life is so +joyless without you, that I would wish to end it with +my knife."</p> + +<p>Very sweetly made answer Sir Eliduc, for in honesty +he loved honest maid, +"Fair friend, I have sworn faith to your father, and +am his man. If I carried you with me, I should give +the lie to my troth. Let this covenant be made between +us. Should you give me leave to return to my own +land I swear to you on my honour as a knight, that I +will come again on any day that you shall name. My +life is in your hands. Nothing on earth shall keep me +from your side, so only that I have life and health."</p> + +<p>Then she, who loved so fondly, granted her knight +permission to depart, and fixed the term, and named the +day for his return. Great was their sorrow that the hour +had come to bid farewell. They gave rings of gold for +remembrance, and sweetly kissed adieu. So they severed +from each other's arms.</p> + +<p>Eliduc sought the sea, and with a fair wind, crossed +swiftly to the other side. His lord was greatly content +to learn the tidings of his knight's return. His friends +and his kinsfolk came to greet him, and the common +folk welcomed him very gladly. But, amongst them all, +none was so blithe at his home-coming as the fair and +prudent lady who was his wife. Despite this show of +friendship, Eliduc was ever sad, and deep in thought. +He went heavily, till he might look upon his friend. +He felt no happiness, nor made pretence of any, till he +should meet with her again. His wife was sick at heart, +because of the coldness of her husband. She took +counsel with her soul, as to what she had done amiss. +Often she asked him privily, if she had come short or +offended in any measure, whilst he was without the +realm. If she was accused by any, let him tell her the +accusation, that she might purge herself of the offence.</p> + +<p>"Wife," answered Eliduc, "neither I, nor any other, +charge you with aught that is against your honour to +do. The cause of my sorrow is in myself. I have pledged +my faith to the King of that country, from whence I +come, that I will return to help him in his need. When +my lord the King has peace in his realm, within eight +days I shall be once more upon the sea. Great travail +I must endure, and many pains I shall suffer, in readiness +for that hour. Return I must, and till then I have no +mind for anything but toil; for I will not give the lie +to my plighted word."</p> + +<p>Eliduc put his fief once more in the hands of his dame. +He sought his lord, and aided him to the best of his +might. By the counsel and prowess of the knight, the +King came again into his own. When the term appointed +by his lady, and the day she named for his return drew +near, Eliduc wrought in such fashion that peace was +accorded between the foes. Then the knight made him +ready for his journey, and took thought to the folk +he should carry with him. His choice fell on two of +his nephews, whom he loved very dearly, and on a +certain chamberlain of his household. These were trusted +servitors, who were of his inmost mind, and knew much +of his counsel. Together with these went his squires, +these only, for Eliduc had no care to take many. All +these, nephew and squire and chamberlain, Eliduc +made to promise, and confirm by an oath, that they +would reveal nothing of his business.</p> + +<p>The company put to sea without further tarrying, +and, crossing quickly, came to that land where Eliduc +so greatly desired to be. The knight sought a hostel +some distance from the haven, for he would not be seen +of any, nor have it bruited that Eliduc was returned. +He called his chamberlain, and sent him to his friend, +bearing letters that her knight had come, according to +the covenant that had been made. At nightfall, before +the gates were made fast, Eliduc issued forth from the +city, and followed after his messenger. He had clothed +himself in mean apparel, and rode at a footpace +straight to the city, where dwelt the daughter of the +King. The chamberlain arrived before the palace, +and by dint of asking and prying, found himself within +the lady's chamber. He saluted the maiden, and told +her that her lover was near. When Guillardun heard +these tidings she was astonied beyond measure, and +for joy and pity wept right tenderly. She kissed the +letters of her friend, and the messenger who brought +such welcome tidings. The chamberlain prayed the lady +to attire and make her ready to join her friend. The +day was spent in preparing for the adventure, according +to such plan as had been devised. When dark was come, +and all was still, the damsel stole forth from the palace, +and the chamberlain with her. For fear that any man +should know her again, the maiden had hidden, beneath +a riding cloak, her silken gown, embroidered with gold. +About the space of a bow shot from the city gate, +there was a coppice standing within a fair meadow. +Near by this wood, Eliduc and his comrades awaited +the coming of Guillardun. When Eliduc saw the lady, +wrapped in her mantle, and his chamberlain leading +her by the hand, he got from his horse, and kissed her +right tenderly. Great joy had his companions at so +fair a sight. He set her on the horse, and climbing +before her, took bridle in glove, and returned to the haven, +with all the speed he might. He entered forthwith in +the ship, which put to sea, having on board none, +save Eliduc, his men, and his lady, Guillardun. With +a fair wind, and a quiet hour, the sailors thought that +they would swiftly come to shore. But when their +journey was near its end, a sudden tempest arose on +the sea. A mighty wind drove them far from their +harbourage, so that their rudder was broken, and their +sail torn from the mast. Devoutly they cried on St. +Nicholas, St. Clement, and Madame St. Mary, to aid +them in this peril. They implored the Mother that she +would approach her Son, not to permit them to perish, +but to bring them to the harbour where they would +come. Without sail or oar, the ship drifted here and +there, at the mercy of the storm. They were very close +to death, when one of the company, with a loud voice +began to cry, +"What need is there of prayers! Sir, you have with +you, her, who brings us to our death. We shall never win +to land, because you, who already have a faithful wife, +seek to wed this foreign woman, against God and His +law, against honour and your plighted troth. Grant us +to cast her in the sea, and straightway the winds and +the waves will be still."</p> + +<p>When Eliduc heard these words he was like to come +to harm for rage.</p> + +<p>"Bad servant and felon traitor," he cried, "you +should pay dearly for your speech, if I might leave my +lady."</p> + +<p>Eliduc held his friend fast in his arms, and cherished +her as well as he was able. When the lady heard that +her knight was already wedded in his own realm, she +swooned where she lay. Her face became pale and discoloured; +she neither breathed nor sighed, nor could +any bring her any comfort. Those who carried her to +a sheltered place, were persuaded that she was but dead, +because of the fury of the storm. Eliduc was passing +heavy. He rose to his feet, and hastening to his squire, +smote him so grievously with an oar, that he fell senseless +on the deck. He haled him by his legs to the side of +the ship and flung the body in the sea, where it was +swiftly swallowed by the waves. He went to the broken +rudder, and governed the nave so skilfully, that it +presently drew to land. So, having come to their fair +haven, they cast anchor, and made fast their bridge to +the shore. Dame Guillardun lay yet in her swoon, and +seemed no other than if she were really dead. Eliduc's +sorrow was all the more, since he deemed that he had +slain her with his hand. He inquired of his companions +in what near place they might lay the lady to her rest, +"for I will not bid her farewell, till she is put in holy +ground with such pomp and rite as befit the obsequies +of the daughter of a King." His comrades answered +him never a word, for they were all bemused by reason +of what had befallen. Eliduc, therefore, considered +within himself to what place he should carry the lady. +His own home was so near the haven where he had +come, that very easily they could ride there before +evening. He called to mind that in his realm there was +a certain great forest, both long and deep. Within +this wood there was a little chapel, served by a holy +hermit for forty years, with whom Eliduc had oftimes +spoken.</p> + +<p>"To this holy man," he said, "I will bear my lady. +In his chapel he shall bury her sweet body. I will endow +him so richly of my lands, that upon her chantry shall +be founded a mighty abbey. There some convent of +monks or nuns or canons shall ever hold her in remembrance, +praying God to grant her mercy in His day."</p> + +<p>Eliduc got to horse, but first took oath of his comrades +that never, by them, should be discovered, that which +they should see. He set his friend before him on the +palfrey, and thus the living and the dead rode together, +till they had entered the wood, and come before the +chapel. The squires called and beat upon the door, but +it remained fast, and none was found to give them any +answer. Eliduc bade that one should climb through a +window, and open the door from within. When they +had come within the chapel they found a new made +tomb, and writ thereon, that the holy hermit having +finished his course, was made perfect, eight days before +Passing sad was Eliduc, and esmayed. His companions +would have digged a second grave, and set therein, his +friend; but the knight would in no wise consent, for—he +said—he purposed to take counsel of the priests +of his country, as to building some church or abbey +above her tomb. "At this hour we will but lay her +body before the altar, and commend her to God His holy +keeping." He commanded them to bring their mantles +and make a bed upon the altar-pace. Thereon they +laid the maiden, and having wrapped her close in her +lover's cloak, left her alone. When the moment came +for Eliduc to take farewell of his lady, he deemed that +his own last hour had come. He kissed her eyes and her +face.</p> + +<p>"Fair friend," said he, "if it be pleasing to God, +never will I bear sword or lance again, or seek the +pleasures of this mortal world. Fair friend, in an ill +hour you saw me! Sweet lady, in a bitter hour you +followed me to death! Fairest, now were you a queen, +were it not for the pure and loyal love you set upon me? +Passing sad of heart am I for you, my friend. The hour +that I have seen you in your shroud, I will take the +habit of some holy order, and every day, upon your +tomb, I will tell over the chaplet of my sorrow."</p> + +<p>Having taken farewell of the maiden, Eliduc came +forth from the chapel, and closed the doors. He sent +messages to his wife, that he was returning to his house, +but weary and overborne. When the dame heard these +tidings, she was happy in her heart, and made ready +to greet him. She received her lord tenderly; but +little joy came of her welcome, for she got neither smiles +in answer, nor tender words in return. She dared not +inquire the reason, during the two days Eliduc remained +in the house. The knight heard Mass very early in the +morning, and then set forth on the road leading to the +chapel where the maiden lay. He found her as he had +parted, for she had not come back from her swoon, +and there was neither stir in her, nor breath. He +marvelled greatly, for he saw her, vermeil and white, +as he had known her in life. She had lost none of her +sweet colour, save that she was a little blanched. He +wept bitterly above her, and entreated for her soul. +Having made his prayer, he went again to his house.</p> + +<p>On a day when Eliduc went forth, his wife called to +her a varlet of her household, commanding him to +follow his lord afar off, and mark where he went, and +on what business. She promised to give him harness +and horses, if he did according to her will. The varlet +hid himself in the wood, and followed so cunningly +after his lord, that he was not perceived. He watched +the knight enter the chapel, and heard the cry and +lamentation that he made. When Eliduc came out, the +varlet hastened to his mistress, and told her what he +had seen, the tears and dolour, and all that befell his +lord within the hermitage. The lady summoned all her +courage.</p> + +<p>"We will go together, as soon as we may, to this +hermitage. My lord tells me that he rides presently to +the Court to speak with the King. I knew that my +husband loved this dead hermit very tenderly, but I +little thought that his loss would make him mad with +grief."</p> + +<p>The next day the dame let her lord go forth in peace. +When, about noon, Eliduc rode to the Court to greet +his King, the lady rose quickly, and carrying the varlet +with her, went swiftly to the hermitage. She entered +the chapel, and saw the bed upon the altar-pace, and +the maiden thereon, like a new sprung rose. Stooping +down the lady removed the mantle. She marked the +rigid body, the long arms, and the frail white hands, +with their slender fingers, folded on the breast. Thus +she learned the secret of the sorrow of her lord. She +called the varlet within the chapel, and showed him +this wonder.</p> + +<p>"Seest thou," she said, "this woman, who for beauty +shineth as a gem! This lady, in her life, was the lover +of my lord. It was for her that all his days were spoiled +by grief. By my faith I marvel little at his sorrow, +since I, who am a woman too, will—for pity's sake or +love—never know joy again, having seen so fair a lady +in the dust."</p> + +<p>So the wife wept above the body of the maiden. +Whilst the lady sat weeping, a weasel came from under +the altar, and ran across Guillardun's body. The varlet +smote it with his staff, and killed it as it passed. He +took the vermin and flung it away. The companion +of this weasel presently came forth to seek him. She +ran to the place where he lay, and finding that he would +not get him on his feet, seemed as one distraught. +She went forth from the chapel, and hastened to the +wood, from whence she returned quickly, bearing a +vermeil flower beneath her teeth. This red flower she +placed within the mouth of that weasel the varlet had +slain, and immediately he stood upon his feet. When +the lady saw this, she cried to the varlet,</p> + +<p>"Throw, man, throw, and gain the flower."</p> + +<p>The servitor flung his staff, and the weasels fled away, +leaving that fair flower upon the floor. The lady rose. +She took the flower, and returned with it swiftly to the +altar pace. Within the mouth of the maiden, she set +a flower that was more vermeil still. For a short space +the dame and the damsel were alike breathless. Then +the maiden came to herself, with a sigh. She opened +her eyes, and commenced to speak.</p> + +<p>"Diva," she said, "have I slept so long, indeed!"</p> + +<p>When the lady heard her voice she gave thanks to +God. She inquired of the maiden as to her name and +degree. The damsel made answer to her, +"Lady, I was born in Logres, and am daughter to +the King of that realm. Greatly there I loved a knight, +named Eliduc, the seneschal of my sire. We fled together +from my home, to my own most grievous fault. +He never told me that he was wedded to a wife in his +own country, and he hid the matter so cunningly, that +I knew naught thereof. When I heard tell of his dame, +I swooned for pure sorrow. Now I find that this false +lover, has, like a felon, betrayed me in a strange land. +What will chance to a maiden in so foul a plight? Great +is that woman's folly who puts her trust in man."</p> + +<p>"Fair damsel," replied the lady, "there is nothing +in the whole world that can give such joy to this felon, +as to hear that you are yet alive. He deems that you +are dead, and every day he beweeps your swoon in the +chapel. I am his wife, and my heart is sick, just for +looking on his sorrow. To learn the reason of his grief, +I caused him to be followed, and that is why I have +found you here. It is a great happiness for me to +know that you live. You shall return with me to my +home, and I will place you in the tenderness of your +friend. Then I shall release him of his marriage troth, +since it is my dearest hope to take the veil."</p> + +<p>When the wife had comforted the maiden with such +words, they went together to her own house. She called +to her servitor, and bade him seek his lord. The varlet +went here and there, till he lighted on Eliduc. He +came before him, and showed him of all these things. +Eliduc mounted straightway on his horse, and waiting +neither for squire or companion, that same night came +to his hall. When he found alive, her, who once was +dead, Eliduc thanked his wife for so dear a gift. He +rejoiced beyond measure, and of all his days, no day +was more happy than this. He kissed the maiden +often, and very sweetly she gave him again his kiss, +for great was the joy between the twain. The dame +looked on their happiness, and knew that her lord +meetly had bestowed his love. She prayed him, therefore, +that he would grant her leave to depart, since she would +serve God as a cloistered nun. Of his wealth she craved +such a portion as would permit her to found a convent. +He would then be able to wed the maiden on whom his +heart was set, for it was neither honest nor seemly that +a man should maintain a wife with either hand.</p> + +<p>Eliduc could do no otherwise than consent. He gave +the permission she asked, and did all according to her +will. He endowed the lady of his lands, near by that +chapel and hermitage, within the wood. There he built +a church with offices and refectory, fair to see. Much +wealth he bestowed on the convent, in money and estate. +When all was brought to a good end, the lady took the +veil upon her head. Thirty other ladies entered in the +house with her, and long she ruled them as their Abbess, +right wisely and well.</p> + +<p>Eliduc wedded with his friend, in great pomp, and +passing rich was the marriage feast. They dwelt in +unity together for many days, for ever between them +was perfect love. They walked uprightly, and gave +alms of their goods, till such a time as it became them +to turn to God. After much thought, Eliduc built a +great church close beside his castle. He endowed it +with all his gold and silver, and with the rest of his +land. He set priests there, and holy layfolk also, for +the business of the house, and the fair services of religion.</p> + +<p>When all was builded and ordered, Eliduc offered himself, +with them, that he—weak man—might serve the +omnipotent God. He set with the Abbess Guildeluec +—who once was his dame—that wife whom he loved +so dearly well. The Abbess received her as a sister, +and welcomed her right honourably. She admonished +her in the offices of God, and taught her of the rules +and practice of their holy Order. They prayed to God +for their friend, that He would grant him mercy in His +day. In turn, he entreated God for them. Messages +came from convent and monastery as to how they fared, +so that each might encourage the other in His way. +Each strove painfully, for himself and his, to love God +the more dearly, and to abide in His holy faith. Each +made a good end, and the mercy of God was abundantly +made clear to all.</p> + +<p>Of the adventure of these three lovers, the courteous +Bretons made this Lay for remembrance, since they +deemed it a matter that men should not forget.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="V"></a><h2>V.</h2> +<br> + +<p>THE LAY OF THE NIGHTINGALE</p> + +<p>Now will I tell you a story, whereof the Breton harper +already has made a Lay. Laustic, I deem, men name +it in that country, which, being interpreted, means rossignol +in French, and nightingale in good plain English.</p> + +<p>In the realm of Brittany stands a certain rich and +mighty city, called Saint Malo. There were citizens +of this township two knights, so well spoken and reputed +of all, that the city drew therefrom great profit and fame. +The houses of these lords were very near the one to the +other. One of the two knights had to wife a passing fair +lady, right gracious of manner and sweet of tongue. +Wondrous pleasure found this dame to array herself +richly, after the wont and fashion of her time. The other +knight was yet a bachelor. He was well accounted of +amongst his fellows as a hardy knight and as an honourable +man. He gave hospitality gladly. Largely he +gained, largely he spent, and willingly bestowed gifts of +all that he had.</p> + +<p>This bachelor set his love upon his neighbour's wife. +By reason of his urgent prayers, his long suit and service, +and by reason that all men spake naught of him but +praise—perchance, also, for reason that he was never far +from her eye—presently this lady came to set her heart +on him again. Though these two friends loved right +tenderly, yet were they so private and careful in their +loves that none perceived what was in their hearts. No +man pried on them, or disturbed their goings and comings. +These were the more easy to devise since the bachelor +and the lady were such near neighbours. Their two +houses stood side by side, hall and cellar and combles. +Only between the gardens was built a high and ancient +wall, of worn gray stone. When the lady sat within her +bower, by leaning from the casement she and her +friend might speak together, he to her, and she to +him. They could also throw messages in writing, and +divers pretty gifts, the one to the other. Little enough +had they to displease them, and greatly were they at their +ease, save only that they might not take their pleasure +together, so often as their hearts had wished. For the +dame was guarded very straitly when her husband +was abroad. Yet not so strictly but that they might +have word and speech, the now by night and now +by day. At least, however close the watch and ward, none +might hinder that at times these fair lovers stood within +their casements, and looked fondly on the other's face.</p> + +<p>Now after these friends had loved for a great space it +chanced that the season became warm and sweet. It +was the time when meadow and copse are green; when +orchards grow white with bloom, and birds break into +song as thickly as the bush to flower. It is the season +when he who loves would win to his desire. Truly I tell +you that the knight would have done all in his power to +attain his wish, and the lady, for her part, yearned for +sight and speech of her friend. At night, when the moon +shone clearly in the sky, and her lord lay sleeping at +her side, often the dame slipped softly from her bed, +and hastening to the casement, leaned forth to have +sight of him who watched. The greater part of the +dark they kept vigil together, for very pleasant it is to +look upon your friend, when sweeter things are denied.</p> + +<p>This chanced so often, and the lady rose so frequently +from her bed, that her lord was altogether wrathful, and +many a time inquired the reason of her unrest.</p> + +<p>"Husband," replied the dame, "there is no dearer joy +in this world, than to hear the nightingale sing. It +is to hearken to the song that rises so sweetly on the +night, that I lean forth from the casement. What tune +of harp or viol is half so fair! Because of my delight +in his song, and of my desire to hear, I may not shut +my eyes till it be morn."</p> + +<p>When the husband heard the lady's words he laughed +within himself for wrath and malice. He purposed +that very soon the nightingale should sing within +a net. So he bade the servants of his house to devise +fillets and snares, and to set their cunning traps about +the orchard. Not a chestnut tree nor hazel within +the garth but was limed and netted for the caging +of this bird. It was not long therefore ere the nightingale +was taken, and the servants made haste to give +him to the pleasure of their lord. Wondrous merry +was the knight when he held him living in his hand. +He went straightway to the chamber of his dame, and +entering, said,</p> + +<p>"Wife, are you within? Come near, for I must speak +with you. Here is the nightingale, all limed and taken, +who made vigil of your sleeping hours. Take now your +rest in peace, for he will never disturb you more."</p> + +<p>When the lady understood these words she was +marvellously sorrowful and heavy. She prayed her +lord to grant her the nightingale for a gift. But for +all answer he wrung his neck with both hands so fiercely +that the head was torn from the body. Then, right foully, +he flung the bird upon the knees of the dame, in such +fashion that her breast was sprinkled with the blood. +So he departed, incontinent, from the chamber in a rage.</p> + +<p>The lady took the little body in her hands, and wept +his evil fate. She railed on those who with nets and +snares had betrayed the nightingale to his death; for +anger and hate beyond measure had gained hold on +her heart.</p> + +<p>"Alas," cried she, "evil is come upon me. Never +again may I rise from my bed in the night, and watch +from the casement, so that I may see my friend. One +thing I know full well, that he will deem my love is no +more set upon him. Woe to her who has none to give +her counsel. This I will do. I will bestow the nightingale +upon him, and send him tidings of the chance that has +befallen."</p> + +<p>So this doleful lady took a fair piece of white samite, +broidered with gold, and wrought thereon the whole +story of this adventure. In this silken cloth she wrapped +the body of the little bird, and calling to her a trusty +servant of her house, charged him with the message, +and bade him bear it to her friend. The varlet went +his way to the knight, and having saluted him on the +part of the lady, he told over to him the story, and +bestowed the nightingale upon him. When all had been +rehearsed and shown to him, and he had well considered +the matter, the knight was very dolent; yet in no +wise would he avenge himself wrongfully. So he caused +a certain coffret to be fashioned, made not of iron or steel, +but of fine gold and fair stones, most rich and precious, +right strongly clasped and bound. In this little chest +he set the body of the nightingale, and having sealed +the shrine, carried it upon him whenever his business +took him abroad.</p> + +<p>This adventure could not long be hid. Very swiftly +it was noised about the country, and the Breton folk +made a Lay thereon, which they called the Lay of the +Laustic, in their own tongue.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="VI"></a><h2>VI</h2> + +<p>THE LAY OF SIR LAUNFAL</p> + +<p>I will tell you the story of another Lay. It relates the +adventures of a rich and mighty baron, and the Breton +calls it, the Lay of Sir Launfal.</p> + +<p>King Arthur—that fearless knight and courteous +lord—removed to Wales, and lodged at Caerleon-on-Usk, +since the Picts and Scots did much mischief in the land. +For it was the wont of the wild people of the north to +enter in the realm of Logres, and burn and damage +at their will. At the time of Pentecost, the King cried +a great feast. Thereat he gave many rich gifts to his +counts and barons, and to the Knights of the Round +Table. Never were such worship and bounty shown +before at any feast, for Arthur bestowed honours and +lands on all his servants—save only on one. This lord, +who was forgotten and misliked of the King, was +named Launfal. He was beloved by many of the Court, +because of his beauty and prowess, for he was a worthy +knight, open of heart and heavy of hand. These lords, +to whom their comrade was dear, felt little joy to see so +stout a knight misprized. Sir Launfal was son to a King +of high descent, though his heritage was in a distant +land. He was of the King's household, but since Arthur +gave him naught, and he was of too proud a mind to +pray for his due, he had spent all that he had. Right +heavy was Sir Launfal, when he considered these things, +for he knew himself taken in the toils. Gentles, marvel +not overmuch hereat. Ever must the pilgrim go heavily +in a strange land, where there is none to counsel and +direct him in the path.</p> + +<p>Now, on a day, Sir Launfal got him on his horse, +that he might take his pleasure for a little. He came +forth from the city, alone, attended by neither servant +nor squire. He went his way through a green mead, +till he stood by a river of clear running water. Sir +Launfal would have crossed this stream, without thought +of pass or ford, but he might not do so, for reason that +his horse was all fearful and trembling. Seeing that he +was hindered in this fashion, Launfal unbitted his steed, +and let him pasture in that fair meadow, where they +had come. Then he folded his cloak to serve him as a +pillow, and lay upon the ground. Launfal lay in great +misease, because of his heavy thoughts, and the discomfort +of his bed. He turned from side to side, and +might not sleep. Now as the knight looked towards +the river he saw two damsels coming towards him; +fairer maidens Launfal had never seen. These two +maidens were richly dressed in kirtles closely laced and +shapen to their persons and wore mantles of a goodly +purple hue. Sweet and dainty were the damsels, alike +in raiment and in face. The elder of these ladies carried +in her hands a basin of pure gold, cunningly wrought +by some crafty smith—very fair and precious was the +cup; and the younger bore a towel of soft white linen. +These maidens turned neither to the right hand nor to +the left, but went directly to the place where Launfal +lay. When Launfal saw that their business was with +him, he stood upon his feet, like a discreet and courteous +gentleman. After they had greeted the knight, one +of the maidens delivered the message with which she +was charged.</p> + +<p>"Sir Launfal, my demoiselle, as gracious as she is +fair, prays that you will follow us, her messengers, as +she has a certain word to speak with you. We will +lead you swiftly to her pavilion, for our lady is very +near at hand. If you but lift your eyes you may see +where her tent is spread."</p> + +<p>Right glad was the knight to do the bidding of the +maidens. He gave no heed to his horse, but left him +at his provand in the meadow. All his desire was to +go with the damsels, to that pavilion of silk and divers +colours, pitched in so fair a place. Certainly neither +Semiramis in the days of her most wanton power, +nor Octavian, the Emperor of all the West, had so +gracious a covering from sun and rain. Above the tent +was set an eagle of gold, so rich and precious, that none +might count the cost. The cords and fringes thereof were +of silken thread, and the lances which bore aloft the +pavilion were of refined gold. No King on earth might +have so sweet a shelter, not though he gave in fee the +value of his realm. Within this pavilion Launfal came +upon the Maiden. Whiter she was than any altar lily, +and more sweetly flushed than the new born rose in +time of summer heat. She lay upon a bed with napery +and coverlet of richer worth than could be furnished +by a castle's spoil. Very fresh and slender showed the +lady in her vesture of spotless linen. About her person +she had drawn a mantle of ermine, edged with purple +dye from the vats of Alexandria. By reason of the heat +her raiment was unfastened for a little, and her throat +and the rondure of her bosom showed whiter and more +untouched than hawthorn in May. The knight came +before the bed, and stood gazing on so sweet a sight. +The Maiden beckoned him to draw near, and when he had +seated himself at the foot of her couch, spoke her mind.</p> + +<p>"Launfal," she said, "fair friend, it is for you that +I have come from my own far land. I bring you my +love. If you are prudent and discreet, as you are goodly +to the view, there is no emperor nor count, nor king, +whose day shall be so filled with riches and with mirth +as yours."</p> + +<p>When Launfal heard these words he rejoiced greatly, +for his heart was litten by another's torch.</p> + +<p>"Fair lady," he answered, "since it pleases you to +be so gracious, and to dower so graceless a knight with +your love, there is naught that you may bid me do—right +or wrong, evil or good—that I will not do to the +utmost of my power. I will observe your commandment, +and serve in your quarrels. For you I renounce my +father and my father's house. This only I pray, that +I may dwell with you in your lodging, and that you will +never send me from your side."</p> + +<p>When the Maiden heard the words of him whom so +fondly she desired to love, she was altogether moved, +and granted him forthwith her heart and her tenderness. +To her bounty she added another gift besides. +Never might Launfal be desirous of aught, but he would +have according to his wish. He might waste and spend +at will and pleasure, but in his purse ever there was to +spare. No more was Launfal sad. Right merry was the +pilgrim, since one had set him on the way, with such +a gift, that the more pennies he bestowed, the more +silver and gold were in his pouch.</p> + +<p>But the Maiden had yet a word to say.</p> + +<p>"Friend," she said, "hearken to my counsel. I lay this +charge upon you, and pray you urgently, that you tell +not to any man the secret of our love. If you show this +matter, you will lose your friend, for ever and a day. +Never again may you see my face. Never again will +you have seisin of that body, which is now so tender +in your eyes."</p> + +<p>Launfal plighted faith, that right strictly he would +observe this commandment. So the Maiden granted him +her kiss and her embrace, and very sweetly in that fair +lodging passed the day till evensong was come.</p> + +<p>Right loath was Launfal to depart from the pavilion +at the vesper hour, and gladly would he have stayed, +had he been able, and his lady wished.</p> + +<p>"Fair friend," said she, "rise up, for no longer +may you tarry. The hour is come that we must part. +But one thing I have to say before you go. When you +would speak with me I shall hasten to come before +your wish. Well I deem that you will only call your +friend where she may be found without reproach or +shame of men. You may see me at your pleasure; my +voice shall speak softly in your ear at will; but I must +never be known of your comrades, nor must they ever +learn my speech."</p> + +<p>Right joyous was Launfal to hear this thing. He +sealed the covenant with a kiss, and stood upon his +feet. Then there entered the two maidens who had led +him to the pavilion, bringing with them rich raiment, +fitting for a knight's apparel. When Launfal had clothed +himself therewith, there seemed no goodlier varlet under +heaven, for certainly he was fair and true. After these +maidens had refreshed him with clear water, and dried +his hands upon the napkin, Launfal went to meat. +His friend sat at table with him, and small will had he +to refuse her courtesy. Very serviceably the damsels +bore the meats, and Launfal and the Maiden ate and +drank with mirth and content. But one dish was more +to the knight's relish than any other. Sweeter than +the dainties within his mouth, was the lady's kiss upon +his lips.</p> + +<p>When supper was ended, Launfal rose from table, +for his horse stood waiting without the pavilion. The +destrier was newly saddled and bridled, and showed +proudly in his rich gay trappings. So Launfal kissed, +and bade farewell, and went his way. He rode back +towards the city at a slow pace. Often he checked his +steed, and looked behind him, for he was filled with +amazement, and all bemused concerning this adventure. +In his heart he doubted that it was but a dream. He +was altogether astonished, and knew not what to do. +He feared that pavilion and Maiden alike were from the +realm of faery.</p> + +<p>Launfal returned to his lodging, and was greeted by +servitors, clad no longer in ragged raiment. He fared +richly, lay softly, and spent largely, but never knew +how his purse was filled. There was no lord who had +need of a lodging in the town, but Launfal brought him +to his hall, for refreshment and delight. Launfal bestowed +rich gifts. Launfal redeemed the poor captive. +Launfal clothed in scarlet the minstrel. Launfal gave +honour where honour was due. Stranger and friend +alike he comforted at need. So, whether by night or by +day, Launfal lived greatly at his ease. His lady, she +came at will and pleasure, and, for the rest, all was added +unto him.</p> + +<p>Now it chanced, the same year, about the feast of St. +John, a company of knights came, for their solace, to +an orchard, beneath that tower where dwelt the Queen. +Together with these lords went Gawain and his cousin, +Yvain the fair. Then said Gawain, that goodly knight, +beloved and dear to all,</p> + +<p>"Lords, we do wrong to disport ourselves in this +pleasaunce without our comrade Launfal. It is not well +to slight a prince as brave as he is courteous, and of a +lineage prouder than our own."</p> + +<p>Then certain of the lords returned to the city, and +finding Launfal within his hostel, entreated him to +take his pastime with them in that fair meadow. The +Queen looked out from a window in her tower, she and +three ladies of her fellowship. They saw the lords at +their pleasure, and Launfal also, whom well they knew. +So the Queen chose of her Court thirty damsels—the +sweetest of face and most dainty of fashion—and commanded +that they should descend with her to take their +delight in the garden. When the knights beheld this +gay company of ladies come down the steps of the +perron, they rejoiced beyond measure. They hastened +before to lead them by the hand, and said such words +in their ear as were seemly and pleasant to be spoken. +Amongst these merry and courteous lords hasted not +Sir Launfal. He drew apart from the throng, for with +him time went heavily, till he might have clasp and +greeting of his friend. The ladies of the Queen's fellowship +seemed but kitchen wenches to his sight, in comparison +with the loveliness of the maiden. When the +Queen marked Launfal go aside, she went his way, +and seating herself upon the herb, called the knight +before her. Then she opened out her heart.</p> + +<p>"Launfal, I have honoured you for long as a worthy +knight, and have praised and cherished you very dearly. +You may receive a queen's whole love, if such be your +care. Be content: he to whom my heart is given, +has small reason to complain him of the alms."</p> + +<p>"Lady," answered the knight, "grant me leave to +go, for this grace is not for me. I am the King's man, +and dare not break my troth. Not for the highest +lady in the world, not even for her love, will I set this +reproach upon my lord."</p> + +<p>When the Queen heard this, she was full of wrath, +and spoke many hot and bitter words.</p> + +<p>"Launfal," she cried, "well I know that you think +little of woman and her love. There are sins more black +that a man may have upon his soul. Traitor you are, +and false. Right evil counsel gave they to my lord, +who prayed him to suffer you about his person. You +remain only for his harm and loss."</p> + +<p>Launfal was very dolent to hear this thing. He was +not slow to take up the Queen's glove, and in his haste +spake words that he repented long, and with tears.</p> + +<p>"Lady," said he, "I am not of that guild of which +you speak. Neither am I a despiser of woman, since +I love, and am loved, of one who would bear the prize +from all the ladies in the land. Dame, know now and +be persuaded, that she, whom I serve, is so rich in state, +that the very meanest of her maidens, excels you, +Lady Queen, as much in clerkly skill and goodness, +as in sweetness of body and face, and in every +virtue."</p> + +<p>The Queen rose straightway to her feet, and fled to +her chamber, weeping. Right wrathful and heavy was +she, because of the words that had besmirched her. +She lay sick upon her bed, from which, she said, she +would never rise, till the King had done her justice, +and righted this bitter wrong. Now the King that day +had taken his pleasure within the woods. He returned +from the chase towards evening, and sought the chamber +of the Queen. When the lady saw him, she sprang from +her bed, and kneeling at his feet, pleaded for grace and +pity. Launfal—she said—had shamed her, since he +required her love. When she had put him by, very +foully had he reviled her, boasting that his love was +already set on a lady, so proud and noble, that her +meanest wench went more richly, and smiled more +sweetly, than the Queen. Thereat the King waxed +marvellously wrathful, and swore a great oath that he +would set Launfal within a fire, or hang him from a +tree, if he could not deny this thing, before his peers.</p> + +<p>Arthur came forth from the Queen's chamber, and +called to him three of his lords. These he sent to seek +the knight who so evilly had entreated the Queen. +Launfal, for his part, had returned to his lodging, in +a sad and sorrowful case. He saw very clearly that he +had lost his friend, since he had declared their love to +men. Launfal sat within his chamber, sick and heavy +of thought. Often he called upon his friend, but the +lady would not hear his voice. He bewailed his evil +lot, with tears; for grief he came nigh to swoon; a +hundred times he implored the Maiden that she would +deign to speak with her knight. Then, since the lady +yet refrained from speech, Launfal cursed his hot and +unruly tongue. Very near he came to ending all this +trouble with his knife. Naught he found to do but to +wring his hands, and call upon the Maiden, begging her +to forgive his trespass, and to talk with him again, as +friend to friend.</p> + +<p>But little peace is there for him who is harassed by +a King. There came presently to Launfal's hostel those +three barons from the Court. These bade the knight +forthwith to go with them to Arthur's presence, to acquit +him of this wrong against the Queen. Launfal went +forth, to his own deep sorrow. Had any man slain him +on the road, he would have counted him his friend. +He stood before the King, downcast and speechless, +being dumb by reason of that great grief, of which he +showed the picture and image.</p> + +<p>Arthur looked upon his captive very evilly.</p> + +<p>"Vassal," said he, harshly, "you have done me a +bitter wrong. It was a foul deed to seek to shame me +in this ugly fashion, and to smirch the honour of the +Queen. Is it folly or lightness which leads you to boast +of that lady, the least of whose maidens is fairer, and +goes more richly, than the Queen?"</p> + +<p>Launfal protested that never had he set such shame +upon his lord. Word by word he told the tale of how +he denied the Queen, within the orchard. But concerning +that which he had spoken of the lady, he owned the +truth, and his folly. The love of which he bragged was +now lost to him, by his own exceeding fault. He cared +little for his life, and was content to obey the judgment +of the Court.</p> + +<p>Right wrathful was the King at Launfal's words. +He conjured his barons to give him such wise counsel +herein, that wrong might be done to none. The lords +did the King's bidding, whether good came of the matter, +or evil. They gathered themselves together, and appointed +a certain day that Launfal should abide the +judgment of his peers. For his part Launfal must give +pledge and surety to his lord, that he would come before +this judgment in his own body. If he might not give +such surety then he should be held captive till the +appointed day. When the lords of the King's household +returned to tell him of their counsel, Arthur demanded +that Launfal should put such pledge in his hand, +as they had said. Launfal was altogether mazed and +bewildered at this judgment, for he had neither friend +nor kindred in the land. He would have been set in +prison, but Gawain came first to offer himself as his +surety, and with him, all the knights of his fellowship. +These gave into the King's hand as pledge, the fiefs and +lands that they held of his Crown. The King having +taken pledges from the sureties, Launfal returned to +his lodging, and with him certain knights of his company. +They blamed him greatly because of his foolish +love, and chastened him grievously by reason of the +sorrow he made before men. Every day they came to +his chamber, to know of his meat and drink, for much +they feared that presently he would become mad.</p> + +<p>The lords of the household came together on the day +appointed for this judgment. The King was on his chair, +with the Queen sitting at his side. The sureties brought +Launfal within the hall, and rendered him into the hands +of his peers. Right sorrowful were they because of his +plight. A great company of his fellowship did all that +they were able to acquit him of this charge. When all +was set out, the King demanded the judgment of the +Court, according to the accusation and the answer. +The barons went forth in much trouble and thought to +consider this matter. Many amongst them grieved +for the peril of a good knight in a strange land; others +held that it were well for Launfal to suffer, because of +the wish and malice of their lord. Whilst they were thus +perplexed, the Duke of Cornwall rose in the council, +and said,</p> + +<p>"Lords, the King pursues Launfal as a traitor, and +would slay him with the sword, by reason that he +bragged of the beauty of his maiden, and roused the +jealousy of the Queen. By the faith that I owe this +company, none complains of Launfal, save only the +King. For our part we would know the truth of this +business, and do justice between the King and his man. +We would also show proper reverence to our own liege +lord. Now, if it be according to Arthur's will, let us +take oath of Launfal, that he seek this lady, who has +put such strife between him and the Queen. If her +beauty be such as he has told us, the Queen will have +no cause for wrath. She must pardon Launfal for his +rudeness, since it will be plain that he did not speak +out of a malicious heart. Should Launfal fail his word, +and not return with the lady, or should her fairness +fall beneath his boast, then let him be cast off from our +fellowship, and be sent forth from the service of the +King."</p> + +<p>This counsel seemed good to the lords of the household. +They sent certain of his friends to Launfal, to acquaint +him with their judgment, bidding him to pray his damsel +to the Court, that he might be acquitted of this blame. +The knight made answer that in no wise could he do +this thing. So the sureties returned before the judges, +saying that Launfal hoped neither for refuge nor for +succour from the lady, and Arthur urged them to a +speedy ending, because of the prompting of the Queen.</p> + +<p>The judges were about to give sentence upon Launfal, +when they saw two maidens come riding towards the +palace, upon two white ambling palfreys. Very sweet +and dainty were these maidens, and richly clothed in +garments of crimson sendal, closely girt and fashioned +to their bodies. All men, old and young, looked willingly +upon them, for fair they were to see. Gawain, and three +knights of his company, went straight to Launfal, and +showed him these maidens, praying him to say which +of them was his friend. But he answered never a +word. The maidens dismounted from their palfreys, +and coming before the dais where the King was seated, +spake him fairly, as they were fair.</p> + +<p>"Sire, prepare now a chamber, hung with silken +cloths, where it is seemly for my lady to dwell; for she +would lodge with you awhile."</p> + +<p>This gift the King granted gladly. He called to him +two knights of his household, and bade them bestow +the maidens in such chambers as were fitting to their +degree. The maidens being gone, the King required +of his barons to proceed with their judgment, saying +that he had sore displeasure at the slowness of the cause.</p> + +<p>"Sire," replied the barons, "we rose from Council, +because of the damsels who entered in the hall. We +will at once resume the sitting, and give our judgment +without more delay."</p> + +<p>The barons again were gathered together, in much +thought and trouble, to consider this matter. There +was great strife and dissension amongst them, for they +knew not what to do. In the midst of all this noise and +tumult, there came two other damsels riding to the hall +on two Spanish mules. Very richly arrayed were these +damsels in raiment of fine needlework, and their kirtles +were covered by fresh fair mantles, embroidered with +gold. Great joy had Launfal's comrades when they +marked these ladies. They said between themselves +that doubtless they came for the succour of the good +knight. Gawain, and certain of his company, made +haste to Launfal, and said, +"Sir, be not cast down. Two ladies are near at +hand, right dainty of dress, and gracious of person. +Tell us truly, for the love of God, is one of these your +friend?"</p> + +<p>But Launfal answered very simply that never before +had he seen these damsels with his eyes, nor known and +loved them in his heart.</p> + +<p>The maidens dismounted from their mules, and +stood before Arthur, in the sight of all. Greatly were +they praised of many, because of their beauty, and of +the colour of their face and hair. Some there were who +deemed already that the Queen was overborne.</p> + +<p>The elder of the damsels carried herself modestly +and well, and sweetly told over the message wherewith +she was charged.</p> + +<p>"Sire, make ready for us chambers, where we may +abide with our lady, for even now she comes to speak +with thee."</p> + +<p>The King commanded that the ladies should be led +to their companions, and bestowed in the same honourable +fashion as they. Then he bade the lords of his +household to consider their judgment, since he would +endure no further respite. The Court already had given +too much time to the business, and the Queen was +growing wrathful, because of the blame that was hers. +Now the judges were about to proclaim their sentence, +when, amidst the tumult of the town, there came riding +to the palace the flower of all the ladies of the world. +She came mounted upon a palfrey, white as snow, +which carried her softly, as though she loved her burthen. +Beneath the sky was no goodlier steed, nor one more +gentle to the hand. The harness of the palfrey was so +rich, that no king on earth might hope to buy trappings +so precious, unless he sold or set his realm in pledge. +The Maiden herself showed such as I will tell you. +Passing slim was the lady, sweet of bodice and slender +of girdle. Her throat was whiter than snow on branch, +and her eyes were like flowers in the pallor of her face. +She had a witching mouth, a dainty nose, and an open +brow. Her eyebrows were brown, and her golden hair +parted in two soft waves upon her head. She was clad +in a shift of spotless linen, and above her snowy kirtle +was set a mantle of royal purple, clasped upon her breast. +She carried a hooded falcon upon her glove, and a greyhound +followed closely after. As the Maiden rode at a +slow pace through the streets of the city, there was +none, neither great nor small, youth nor sergeant, but +ran forth from his house, that he might content his +heart with so great beauty. Every man that saw her +with his eyes, marvelled at a fairness beyond that of +any earthly woman. Little he cared for any mortal +maiden, after he had seen this sight. The friends of +Sir Launfal hastened to the knight, to tell him of his +lady's succour, if so it were according to God's will.</p> + +<p>"Sir comrade, truly is not this your friend? This +lady is neither black nor golden, mean nor tall. She is +only the most lovely thing in all the world."</p> + +<p>When Launfal heard this, he sighed, for by their +words he knew again his friend. He raised his head, +and as the blood rushed to his face, speech flowed from +his lips.</p> + +<p>"By my faith," cried he, "yes, she is indeed my +friend. It is a small matter now whether men slay me, +or set me free; for I am made whole of my hurt just +by looking on her face."</p> + +<p>The Maiden entered in the palace—where none so +fair had come before—and stood before the King, in +the presence of his household. She loosed the clasp +of her mantle, so that men might the more easily perceive +the grace of her person. The courteous King +advanced to meet her, and all the Court got them on +their feet, and pained themselves in her service. When +the lords had gazed upon her for a space, and praised +the sum of her beauty, the lady spake to Arthur in this +fashion, for she was anxious to begone.</p> + +<p>"Sire, I have loved one of thy vassals,—the knight +who stands in bonds, Sir Launfal. He was always +misprized in thy Court, and his every action turned to +blame. What he said, that thou knowest; for over +hasty was his tongue before the Queen. But he never +craved her in love, however loud his boasting. I cannot +choose that he should come to hurt or harm by me. +In the hope of freeing Launfal from his bonds, I have +obeyed thy summons. Let now thy barons look boldly +upon my face, and deal justly in this quarrel between +the Queen and me."</p> + +<p>The King commanded that this should be done, and +looking upon her eyes, not one of the judges but was +persuaded that her favour exceeded that of the Queen.</p> + +<p>Since then Launfal had not spoken in malice against +his lady, the lords of the household gave him again his +sword. When the trial had come thus to an end the +Maiden took her leave of the King, and made her ready +to depart. Gladly would Arthur have had her lodge +with him for a little, and many a lord would have rejoiced +in her service, but she might not tarry. Now without +the hall stood a great stone of dull marble, where it +was the wont of lords, departing from the Court, to +climb into the saddle, and Launfal by the stone. The +Maiden came forth from the doors of the palace, and +mounting on the stone, seated herself on the palfrey, +behind her friend. Then they rode across the plain +together, and were no more seen.</p> + +<p>The Bretons tell that the knight was ravished by +his lady to an island, very dim and very fair, known +as Avalon. But none has had speech with Launfal and +his faery love since then, and for my part I can tell +you no more of the matter.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="VII"></a><h2>VII</h2> + +<p>THE LAY OF THE TWO LOVERS</p> +<br> + +<p>Once upon a time there lived in Normandy two lovers, +who were passing fond, and were brought by Love to +Death. The story of their love was bruited so abroad, +that the Bretons made a song in their own tongue, +and named this song the Lay of the Two Lovers.</p> + +<p>In Neustria—that men call Normandy—there is +verily a high and marvellously great mountain, where +lie the relics of the Two Children. Near this high place +the King of those parts caused to be built a certain fair +and cunning city, and since he was lord of the Pistrians, +it was known as Pistres. The town yet endures, with +its towers and houses, to bear witness to the truth; +moreover the country thereabouts is known to us all +as the Valley of Pistres.</p> + +<p>This King had one fair daughter, a damsel sweet of +face and gracious of manner, very near to her father's +heart, since he had lost his Queen. The maiden increased +in years and favour, but he took no heed to her trothing, +so that men—yea, even his own people—blamed him +greatly for this thing. When the King heard thereof +he was passing heavy and dolent, and considered within +himself how he might be delivered from this grief. So +then, that none should carry off his child, he caused +it to be proclaimed, both far and near, by script and trumpet, +that he alone should wed the maid, who would bear +her in his arms, to the pinnacle of the great and perilous +mountain, and that without rest or stay. When this +news was noised about the country, many came upon +the quest. But strive as they would they might not +enforce themselves more than they were able. However +mighty they were of body, at the last they failed upon +the mountain, and fell with their burthen to the ground. +Thus, for a while, was none so bold as to seek the high +Princess.</p> + +<p>Now in this country lived a squire, son to a certain +count of that realm, seemly of semblance and courteous, +and right desirous to win that prize, which was so +coveted of all. He was a welcome guest at the Court, +and the King talked with him very willingly. This +squire had set his heart upon the daughter of the King, +and many a time spoke in her ear, praying her to give +him again the love he had bestowed upon her. So +seeing him brave and courteous, she esteemed him for +the gifts which gained him the favour of the King, +and they loved together in their youth. But they +hid this matter from all about the Court. This thing +was very grievous to them, but the damoiseau thought +within himself that it were good to bear the pains he +knew, rather than to seek out others that might prove +sharper still. Yet in the end, altogether distraught by +love, this prudent varlet sought his friend, and showed +her his case, saying that he urgently required of her +that she would flee with him, for no longer could he +endure the weariness of his days. Should he ask her +of the King, well he knew that by reason of his love he +would refuse the gift, save he bore her in his arms up +the steep mount. Then the maiden made answer to +her lover, and said,</p> + +<p>"Fair friend, well I know you may not carry me to +that high place. Moreover should we take to flight, +my father would suffer wrath and sorrow beyond +measure, and go heavily all his days. Certainly my love +is too fond to plague him thus, and we must seek another +counsel, for this is not to my heart. Hearken well. +I have kindred in Salerno, of rich estate. For more +than thirty years my aunt has studied there the art +of medicine, and knows the secret gift of every root +and herb. If you hasten to her, bearing letters from +me, and show her your adventure, certainly she will +find counsel and cure. Doubt not that she will discover +some cunning simple, that will strengthen your body, +as well as comfort your heart. Then return to this +realm with your potion, and ask me at my father's +hand. He will deem you but a stripling, and set forth +the terms of his bargain, that to him alone shall I be +given who knows how to climb the perilous mountain, +without pause or rest, bearing his lady between his +arms."</p> + +<p>When the varlet heard this cunning counsel of the +maiden, he rejoiced greatly, and thanking her sweetly +for her rede, craved permission to depart. He returned +to his own home, and gathering together a goodly store +of silken cloths most precious, he bestowed his gear +upon the pack horses, and made him ready for the road. +So with a little company of men, mounted on swift +palfreys, and most privy to his mind, he arrived at +Salerno. Now the squire made no long stay at his +lodging, but as soon as he might, went to the damsel's +kindred to open out his mind. He delivered to the +aunt the letters he carried from his friend, and bewailed +their evil case. When the dame had read these letters +with him, line by line, she charged him to lodge with +her awhile, till she might do according to his wish. +So by her sorceries, and for the love of her maid, she +brewed such a potion that no man, however wearied +and outworn, but by drinking this philtre, would not +be refreshed in heart and blood and bones. Such virtue +had this medicine, directly it were drunken. This simple +she poured within a little flacket, and gave it to the +varlet, who received the gift with great joy and delight, +and returned swiftly to his own land.</p> + +<p>The varlet made no long sojourn in his home. He +repaired straightway to the Court, and, seeking out the +King, required of him his fair daughter in marriage, +promising, for his part, that were she given him, he +would bear her in his arms to the summit of the mount. +The King was no wise wrath at his presumption. He +smiled rather at his folly, for how should one so young +and slender succeed in a business wherein so many +mighty men had failed. Therefore he appointed a +certain day for this judgment. Moreover he caused letters +to be written to his vassals and his friends—passing +none by—bidding them to see the end of this adventure. +Yea, with public cry and sound of trumpet he bade all +who would, come to behold the stripling carry his fair +daughter to the pinnacle of the mountain. And from +every region round about men came to learn the issue +of this thing. But for her part the fair maiden did all +that she was able to bring her love to a good end. Ever +was it fast day and fleshless day with her, so that by +any means she might lighten the burthen that her +friend must carry in his arms.</p> + +<p>Now on the appointed day this young dansellon came +very early to the appointed place, bringing the flacket +with him. When the great company were fully met +together, the King led forth his daughter before them; +and all might see that she was arrayed in nothing but +her smock. The varlet took the maiden in his arms, +but first he gave her the flask with the precious brewage +to carry, since for pride he might not endure to drink +therefrom, save at utmost peril. The squire set forth +at a great pace, and climbed briskly till he was halfway +up the mount. Because of the joy he had in +clasping his burthen, he gave no thought to the +potion. But she—she knew the strength was failing in +his heart.</p> + +<p>"Fair friend," said she, "well I know that you tire: +drink now, I pray you, of the flacket, and so shall your +manhood come again at need."</p> + +<p>But the varlet answered,</p> + +<p>"Fair love, my heart is full of courage; nor for any +reason will I pause, so long as I can hold upon my way. +It is the noise of all this folk—the tumult and the +shouting—that makes my steps uncertain. Their cries +distress me, I do not dare to stand."</p> + +<p>But when two thirds of the course was won, the grasshopper +would have tripped him off his feet. Urgently +and often the maiden prayed him, saying,</p> + +<p>"Fair friend, drink now of thy cordial."</p> + +<p>But he would neither hear, nor give credence to her +words. A mighty anguish filled his bosom. He climbed +upon the summit of the mountain, and pained himself +grievously to bring his journey to an end. This he might +not do. He reeled and fell, nor could he rise again, for +the heart had burst within his breast.</p> + +<p>When the maiden saw her lover's piteous plight, she +deemed that he had swooned by reason of his pain. +She kneeled hastily at his side, and put the enchanted +brewage to his lips, but he could neither drink nor speak, +for he was dead, as I have told you. She bewailed his +evil lot, with many shrill cries, and flung the useless +flacket far away. The precious potion bestrewed the +ground, making a garden of that desolate place. For +many saving herbs have been found there since that day +by the simple folk of that country, which from the +magic philtre derived all their virtue.</p> + +<p>But when the maiden knew that her lover was dead, +she made such wondrous sorrow, as no man had ever +seen. She kissed his eyes and mouth, and falling upon +his body, took him in her arms, and pressed him closely +to her breast. There was no heart so hard as not to +be touched by her sorrow; for in this fashion died a +dame, who was fair and sweet and gracious, beyond +the wont of the daughters of men.</p> + +<p>Now the King and his company, since these two +lovers came not again, presently climbed the mountain +to learn their end. But when the King came upon +them lifeless, and fast in that embrace, incontinent he +fell to the ground, bereft of sense. After his speech +had returned to him, he was passing heavy, and lamented +their doleful case, and thus did all his people with him.</p> + +<p>Three days they kept the bodies of these two fair +children from earth, with uncovered face. On the +third day they sealed them fast in a goodly coffin of +marble, and by the counsel of all men, laid them softly +to rest on that mountain where they died. Then they +departed from them, and left them together, alone.</p> + +<p>Since this adventure of the Two Children this hill +is known as the Mountain of the Two Lovers, and their +story being bruited abroad, the Breton folk have made +a Lay thereof, even as I have rehearsed before you.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="VIII"></a><h2>VIII</h2> + +<p>THE LAY OF THE WERE-WOLF</p> +<br> + +<p>Amongst the tales I tell you once again, I would not +forget the Lay of the Were-Wolf. Such beasts as he are +known in every land. Bisclavaret he is named in +Brittany; whilst the Norman calls him Garwal.</p> + +<p>It is a certain thing, and within the knowledge of +all, that many a christened man has suffered this change, +and ran wild in woods, as a Were-Wolf. The Were-Wolf +is a fearsome beast. He lurks within the thick +forest, mad and horrible to see. All the evil that he +may, he does. He goeth to and fro, about the solitary +place, seeking man, in order to devour him. Hearken, +now, to the adventure of the Were-Wolf, that I have +to tell.</p> + +<p>In Brittany there dwelt a baron who was marvellously +esteemed of all his fellows. He was a stout knight, and +a comely, and a man of office and repute. Right +private was he to the mind of his lord, and dear to the +counsel of his neighbours. This baron was wedded +to a very worthy dame, right fair to see, and sweet of +semblance. All his love was set on her, and all her love +was given again to him. One only grief had this lady. +For three whole days in every week her lord was absent +from her side. She knew not where he went, nor on +what errand. Neither did any of his house know the +business which called him forth.</p> + +<p>On a day when this lord was come again to his house, +altogether joyous and content, the lady took him to +task, right sweetly, in this fashion, +"Husband," said she, "and fair, sweet friend, I have +a certain thing to pray of you. Right willingly would I +receive this gift, but I fear to anger you in the asking. +It is better for me to have an empty hand, than to gain +hard words."</p> + +<p>When the lord heard this matter, he took the lady +in his arms, very tenderly, and kissed her.</p> + +<p>"Wife," he answered, "ask what you will. What +would you have, for it is yours already?"</p> + +<p>"By my faith," said the lady, "soon shall I be +whole. Husband, right long and wearisome are the +days that you spend away from your home. I rise +from my bed in the morning, sick at heart, I know +not why. So fearful am I, lest you do aught to +your loss, that I may not find any comfort. Very +quickly shall I die for reason of my dread. Tell me +now, where you go, and on what business! How may +the knowledge of one who loves so closely, bring you +to harm?"</p> + +<p>"Wife," made answer the lord, "nothing but evil +can come if I tell you this secret. For the mercy of +God do not require it of me. If you but knew, you +would withdraw yourself from my love, and I should be +lost indeed."</p> + +<p>When the lady heard this, she was persuaded that +her baron sought to put her by with jesting words. +Therefore she prayed and required him the more urgently, +with tender looks and speech, till he was overborne, and +told her all the story, hiding naught.</p> + +<p>"Wife, I become Bisclavaret. I enter in the forest, +and live on prey and roots, within the thickest of the +wood."</p> + +<p>After she had learned his secret, she prayed and +entreated the more as to whether he ran in his raiment, +or went spoiled of vesture.</p> + +<p>"Wife," said he, "I go naked as a beast."</p> + +<p>"Tell me, for hope of grace, what you do with your +clothing?"</p> + +<p>"Fair wife, that will I never. If I should lose my +raiment, or even be marked as I quit my vesture, +then a Were-Wolf I must go for all the days of my life. +Never again should I become man, save in that hour +my clothing were given back to me. For this reason +never will I show my lair."</p> + +<p>"Husband," replied the lady to him, "I love you +better than all the world. The less cause have you for +doubting my faith, or hiding any tittle from me. What +savour is here of friendship? How have I made forfeit +of your love; for what sin do you mistrust my honour? +Open now your heart, and tell what is good to be +known."</p> + +<p>So at the end, outwearied and overborne by her +importunity, he could no longer refrain, but told her all.</p> + +<p>"Wife," said he, "within this wood, a little from +the path, there is a hidden way, and at the end thereof +an ancient chapel, where oftentimes I have bewailed my +lot. Near by is a great hollow stone, concealed by a +bush, and there is the secret place where I hide my +raiment, till I would return to my own home."</p> + +<p>On hearing this marvel the lady became sanguine of +visage, because of her exceeding fear. She dared no +longer to lie at his side, and turned over in her mind, +this way and that, how best she could get her from him. +Now there was a certain knight of those parts, who, for +a great while, had sought and required this lady for +her love. This knight had spent long years in her service, +but little enough had he got thereby, not even fair +words, or a promise. To him the dame wrote a letter, +and meeting, made her purpose plain.</p> + +<p>"Fair friend," said she, "be happy. That which +you have coveted so long a time, I will grant without +delay. Never again will I deny your suit. My heart, +and all I have to give, are yours, so take me now as +love and dame."</p> + +<p>Right sweetly the knight thanked her for her grace, +and pledged her faith and fealty. When she had confirmed +him by an oath, then she told him all this business +of her lord—why he went, and what he became, and +of his ravening within the wood. So she showed him +of the chapel, and of the hollow stone, and of how to +spoil the Were-Wolf of his vesture. Thus, by the kiss +of his wife, was Bisclavaret betrayed. Often enough +had he ravished his prey in desolate places, but from +this journey he never returned. His kinsfolk and +acquaintance came together to ask of his tidings, when +this absence was noised abroad. Many a man, on many +a day, searched the woodland, but none might find him, +nor learn where Bisclavaret was gone.</p> + +<p>The lady was wedded to the knight who had cherished +her for so long a space. More than a year had passed +since Bisclavaret disappeared. Then it chanced that +the King would hunt in that self-same wood where the +Were-Wolf lurked. When the hounds were unleashed +they ran this way and that, and swiftly came upon his +scent. At the view the huntsman winded on his horn, +and the whole pack were at his heels. They followed +him from morn to eve, till he was torn and bleeding, +and was all adread lest they should pull him down. +Now the King was very close to the quarry, and when +Bisclavaret looked upon his master, he ran to him for pity +and for grace. He took the stirrup within his paws, +and fawned upon the prince's foot. The King was very +fearful at this sight, but presently he called his courtiers +to his aid.</p> + +<p>"Lords," cried he, "hasten hither, and see this marvellous +thing. Here is a beast who has the sense of +man. He abases himself before his foe, and cries for +mercy, although he cannot speak. Beat off the hounds, +and let no man do him harm. We will hunt no more +to-day, but return to our own place, with the wonderful +quarry we have taken."</p> + +<p>The King turned him about, and rode to his hall, +Bisclavaret following at his side. Very near to his +master the Were-Wolf went, like any dog, and had no +care to seek again the wood. When the King had brought +him safely to his own castle, he rejoiced greatly, for +the beast was fair and strong, no mightier had any man +seen. Much pride had the King in his marvellous beast. +He held him so dear, that he bade all those who wished +for his love, to cross the Wolf in naught, neither to +strike him with a rod, but ever to see that he was richly +fed and kennelled warm. This commandment the Court +observed willingly. So all the day the Wolf sported +with the lords, and at night he lay within the chamber +of the King. There was not a man who did not make +much of the beast, so frank was he and debonair. None +had reason to do him wrong, for ever was he about his +master, and for his part did evil to none. Every day +were these two companions together, and all perceived +that the King loved him as his friend.</p> + +<p>Hearken now to that which chanced.</p> + +<p>The King held a high Court, and bade his great vassals +and barons, and all the lords of his venery to the feast. +Never was there a goodlier feast, nor one set forth with +sweeter show and pomp. Amongst those who were +bidden, came that same knight who had the wife of +Bisclavaret for dame. He came to the castle, richly +gowned, with a fair company, but little he deemed +whom he would find so near. Bisclavaret marked his +foe the moment he stood within the hall. He ran +towards him, and seized him with his fangs, in the +King's very presence, and to the view of all. Doubtless +he would have done him much mischief, had not the +King called and chidden him, and threatened him with a +rod. Once, and twice, again, the Wolf set upon the +knight in the very light of day. All men marvelled at +his malice, for sweet and serviceable was the beast, +and to that hour had shown hatred of none. With one +consent the household deemed that this deed was done +with full reason, and that the Wolf had suffered at the +knight's hand some bitter wrong. Right wary of his +foe was the knight until the feast had ended, and all +the barons had taken farewell of their lord, and departed, +each to his own house. With these, amongst the very +first, went that lord whom Bisclavaret so fiercely had +assailed. Small was the wonder that he was glad to go.</p> + +<p>No long while after this adventure it came to pass +that the courteous King would hunt in that forest where +Bisclavaret was found. With the prince came his wolf, +and a fair company. Now at nightfall the King abode +within a certain lodge of that country, and this was +known of that dame who before was the wife of Bisclavaret. +In the morning the lady clothed her in her +most dainty apparel, and hastened to the lodge, since +she desired to speak with the King, and to offer him +a rich present. When the lady entered in the chamber, +neither man nor leash might restrain the fury of the Wolf. +He became as a mad dog in his hatred and malice. +Breaking from his bonds he sprang at the lady's face, +and bit the nose from her visage. From every side +men ran to the succour of the dame. They beat off +the wolf from his prey, and for a little would have cut +him in pieces with their swords. But a certain wise +counsellor said to the King,</p> + +<p>"Sire, hearken now to me. This beast is always +with you, and there is not one of us all who has not +known him for long. He goes in and out amongst us, +nor has molested any man, neither done wrong or felony +to any, save only to this dame, one only time as we have +seen. He has done evil to this lady, and to that knight, +who is now the husband of the dame. Sire, she was +once the wife of that lord who was so close and private +to your heart, but who went, and none might find where +he had gone. Now, therefore, put the dame in a sure +place, and question her straitly, so that she may tell—if +perchance she knows thereof—for what reason this +Beast holds her in such mortal hate. For many a strange +deed has chanced, as well we know, in this marvellous +land of Brittany."</p> + +<p>The King listened to these words, and deemed the +counsel good. He laid hands upon the knight, and put +the dame in surety in another place. He caused them +to be questioned right straitly, so that their torment +was very grievous. At the end, partly because of her +distress, and partly by reason of her exceeding fear, +the lady's lips were loosed, and she told her tale. She +showed them of the betrayal of her lord, and how his +raiment was stolen from the hollow stone. Since then +she knew not where he went, nor what had befallen +him, for he had never come again to his own land. +Only, in her heart, well she deemed and was persuaded, +that Bisclavaret was he.</p> + +<p>Straightway the King demanded the vesture of his +baron, whether this were to the wish of the lady, or +whether it were against her wish. When the raiment +was brought him, he caused it to be spread before +Bisclavaret, but the Wolf made as though he had not +seen. Then that cunning and crafty counsellor took +the King apart, that he might give him a fresh rede.</p> + +<p>"Sire," said he, "you do not wisely, nor well, to +set this raiment before Bisclavaret, in the sight of all. +In shame and much tribulation must he lay aside the +beast, and again become man. Carry your wolf within +your most secret chamber, and put his vestment therein. +Then close the door upon him, and leave him alone for +a space. So we shall see presently whether the ravening +beast may indeed return to human shape."</p> + +<p>The King carried the Wolf to his chamber, and shut +the doors upon him fast. He delayed for a brief while, +and taking two lords of his fellowship with him, came +again to the room. Entering therein, all three, softly +together, they found the knight sleeping in the King's +bed, like a little child. The King ran swiftly to the bed +and taking his friend in his arms, embraced and kissed +him fondly, above a hundred times. When man's speech +returned once more, he told him of his adventure. +Then the King restored to his friend the fief that was +stolen from him, and gave such rich gifts, moreover, as +I cannot tell. As for the wife who had betrayed +Bisclavaret, he bade her avoid his country, and chased +her from the realm. So she went forth, she and her second +lord together, to seek a more abiding city, and were no +more seen.</p> + +<p>The adventure that you have heard is no vain fable. +Verily and indeed it chanced as I have said. The Lay +of the Were-Wolf, truly, was written that it should ever +be borne in mind.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="IX"></a><h2>IX</h2> + +<p>THE LAY OF THE ASH TREE</p> +<br> + +<p>Now will I tell you the Lay of the Ash Tree, according +to the story that I know.</p> + +<p>In ancient days there dwelt two knights in Brittany, +who were neighbours and close friends. These two +lords were brave and worthy gentlemen, rich in goods +and lands, and near both in heart and home. Moreover +each was wedded to a dame. One of these ladies was +with child, and when her time was come, she was +delivered of two boys. Her husband was right happy +and content. For the joy that was his, he sent messages +to his neighbour, telling that his wife had brought forth +two sons, and praying that one of them might be +christened with his name. The rich man was at meat +when the messenger came before him. The servitor +kneeled before the dais, and told his message in his ear. +The lord thanked God for the happiness that had befallen +his friend, and bestowed a fair horse on the bringer of +good tidings. His wife, sitting at board with her husband, +heard the story of the messenger, and smiled +at his news. Proud she was, and sly, with an envious +heart, and a rancorous tongue. She made no effort +to bridle her lips, but spoke lightly before the servants +of the house, and said,</p> + +<p>"I marvel greatly that so reputable a man as our +neighbour, should publish his dishonour to my lord. +It is a shameful thing for any wife to have two children +at a birth. We all know that no woman brings forth +two at one bearing, except two husbands have aided her +therein."</p> + +<p>Her husband looked upon her in silence for awhile, +and when he spoke it was to blame her very sternly.</p> + +<p>"Wife," he said, "be silent. It is better to be dumb, +than to utter such words as these. As you know well, +there is not a breath to tarnish this lady's good name."</p> + +<p>The folk of the house, who listened to these words, +stored them in their hearts, and told abroad the tale, +spoken by their lady. Very soon it was known throughout +Brittany. Greatly was the lady blamed for her evil +tongue, and not a woman who heard thereof—whether +she were rich or poor—but who scorned her for her malice. +The servant who carried the message, on his return +repeated to his lord of what he had seen and heard. +Passing heavy was the knight, and knew not what to +do. He doubted his own true wife, and suspected her +the more sorely, because she had done naught that was +in any way amiss.</p> + +<p>The lady, who so foully slandered her fellow, fell +with child in the same year. Her neighbour was avenged +upon her, for when her term was come, she became the +mother of two daughters. Sick at heart was she. She +was right sorrowful, and lamented her evil case.</p> + +<p>"Alas," she said, "what shall I do, for I am dishonoured +for all my days. Shamed I am, it is the simple +truth. When my lord and his kinsfolk shall hear of +what has chanced, they will never believe me a stainless +wife. They will remember how I judged all women in +my plight. They will recall how I said before my house, +that my neighbour could not have been doubly a mother, +unless she had first been doubly a wife. I have the best +reason now to know that I was wrong, and I am caught +in my own snare. She who digs a pit for another, +cannot tell that she may not fall into the hole herself. +If you wish to speak loudly concerning your neighbour, +it is best to say nothing of him but in praise. The only +way to keep me from shame, is that one of my children +should die. It is a great sin; but I would rather trust +to the mercy of God, than suffer scorn and reproach for +the rest of my life."</p> + +<p>The women about her comforted her as best they +might in this trouble. They told her frankly that they +would not suffer such wrong to be done, since the slaying +of a child was not reckoned a jest. The lady had a +maiden near her person, whom she had long held and +nourished. The damsel was a freeman's daughter, and +was greatly loved and cherished of her mistress. When +she saw the lady's tears, and heard the bitterness of +her complaint, anguish went to her heart, like a knife. +She stooped over her lady, striving to bring her comfort.</p> + +<p>"Lady," she said, "take it not so to heart. Give +over this grief, for all will yet be well. You shall deliver +me one of these children, and I will put her so far from +you, that you shall never see her again, nor know shame +because of her. I will carry her safe and sound to the +door of a church. There I will lay her down. Some +honest man shall find her, and—please God—will be +at the cost of her nourishing."</p> + +<p>Great joy had the lady to hear these words. She +promised the maiden that in recompense of her service, +she would grant her such guerdon as she should wish. +The maiden took the babe—yet smiling in her sleep—and +wrapped her in a linen cloth. Above this she set +a piece of sanguine silk, brought by the husband of +this dame from a bazaar in Constantinople—fairer was +never seen. With a silken lace they bound a great ring +to the child's arm. This ring was of fine gold, weighing +fully an ounce, and was set with garnets most precious.</p> + +<p>Letters were graven thereon, so that those who found the +maid might understand that she came of a good house. +The damsel took the child, and went out from the +chamber. When night was come, and all was still, she +left the town, and sought the high road leading through +the forest. She held on her way, clasping the baby +to her breast, till from afar, to her right hand, she +heard the howling of dogs and the crowing of cocks. +She deemed that she was near a town, and went the +lighter for the hope, directing her steps, there, whence +the noises came. Presently the damsel entered in a fair +city, where was an Abbey, both great and rich. This +Abbey was worshipfully ordered, with many nuns in +their office and degree, and an Abbess in charge of all. +The maiden gazed upon the mighty house, and considered +its towers and walls, and the church with its +belfry. She went swiftly to the door, and setting the +child upon the ground, kneeled humbly to make her +prayer.</p> + +<p>"Lord," said she, "for the sake of Thy Holy Name, +if such be Thy will, preserve this child from death."</p> + +<p>Her petition ended, the maiden looked about her, +and saw an ash tree, planted to give shadow in a sunny +place. It was a fair tree, thick and leafy, and was +divided into four strong branches. The maiden took +the child again in her arms, and running to the ash, +set her within the tree. There she left her, commending +her to the care of God. So she returned to her mistress, +and told her all that she had done.</p> + +<p>Now in this Abbey was a porter, whose duty it was +to open the doors of the church, before folk came to +hear the service of God. This night he rose at his +accustomed hour, lighted candles and lamps, rang the +bells, and set wide the doors. His eyes fell upon the +silken stuff within the ash. He thought at first that some +bold thief had hidden his spoil within the tree. He felt +with his hand to discover what it might be, and found +that it was a little child. The porter praised God for +His goodness; he took the babe, and going again to his +house, called to his daughter, who was a widow, with an +infant yet in the cradle.</p> + +<p>"Daughter," he cried, "get from bed at once; light +your candle, and kindle the fire. I bring you a little +child, whom I have found within our ash. Take her +to your breast; cherish her against the cold, and bathe +her in warm water."</p> + +<p>The widow did according to her father's will. She +kindled a fire, and taking the babe, washed and cherished +her in her need. Very certain she was, when she saw +that rich stuff of crimson samite, and the golden ring +about the arm, that the girl was come of an honourable +race. The next day, when the office was ended, the +porter prayed the Abbess that he might have speech +with her as she left the church. He related his story, +and told of the finding of the child. The Abbess bade +him to fetch the child, dressed in such fashion as she +was discovered in the ash. The porter returned to his. +house, and showed the babe right gladly to his dame. +The Abbess observed the infant closely, and said that +she would be at the cost of her nourishing, and would +cherish her as a sister's child. She commanded the +porter strictly to forget that he took her from the ash. +In this manner it chanced that the maiden was tended +of the Abbess. The lady considered the maid as her +niece, and since she was taken from the ash, gave her +the name of Frêne. By this name she was known of all, +within the Abbey precincts, where she was nourished.</p> + +<p>When Frêne came to that age in which a girl turns to +woman, there was no fairer maiden in Brittany, nor +so sweet a damsel. Frank, she was, and open, but +discreet in semblance and in speech. To see her was to +love her, and to prize her smile above the beauty of +the world. Now at Dol there lived a lord of whom much +good was spoken. I will tell you his name. The folk +of his country called him Buron. This lord heard speak +of the maiden, and began to love her, for the sweetness +men told of her. As he rode home from some tournament, +he passed near the convent, and prayed the Abbess +that he might look upon her niece. The Abbess gave +him his desire. Greatly was the maiden to his mind. +Very fair he found her, sweetly schooled and fashioned, +modest and courteous to all. If he might not win her +to his love, he counted himself the more forlorn. This +lord was at his wits end, for he knew not what to do. +If he repaired often to the convent, the Abbess would +consider of the cause of his comings, and he would never +again see the maiden with his eyes. One thing only +gave him a little hope. Should he endow the Abbey +of his wealth, he would make it his debtor for ever. +In return he might ask a little room, where he might +abide to have their fellowship, and, at times, withdraw +him from the world. This he did. He gave richly of +his goods to the Abbey. Often, in return, he went to +the convent, but for other reasons than for penitence +and peace. He besought the maiden, and with prayers +and promises, persuaded her to set upon him her love. +When this lord was assured that she loved him, on a +certain day he reasoned with her in this manner.</p> + +<p>"Fair friend," said he, "since you have given me +your love, come with me, where I can cherish you +before all the world. You know, as well as I, that if +your aunt should perceive our friendship, she would +be passing wrath, and grieve beyond measure. If my +counsel seems good, let us flee together, you with me, +and I with you. Certes, you shall never have cause to +regret your trust, and of my riches you shall have the +half."</p> + +<p>When she who loved so fondly heard these words, +she granted of her tenderness what it pleased him to +have, and followed after where he would. Frêne fled +to her lover's castle, carrying with her that silken cloth +and ring, which might do her service on a day. These +the Abbess had given her again, telling her how one +morning at prime she was found upon an ash, this +ring and samite her only wealth, since she was not her +niece. Right carefully had Frêne guarded her treasure +from that hour. She shut them closely in a little chest, +and this coffret she bore with her in her flight, for she +would neither lose them nor forget.</p> + +<p>The lord, with whom the maiden fled, loved and +cherished her very dearly. Of all the men and servants +of his house, there was not one—either great or small—but +who loved and honoured her for her simplicity. +They lived long together in love and content, till the +fair days passed, and trouble came upon this lord. The +knights of his realm drew together, and many a time +urged that he should put away his friend, and wed with +some rich gentlewoman. They would be joyous if a +son were born, to come after to his fief and heritage. +The peril was too great to suffer that he remained a +bachelor, and without an heir. Never more would +they hold him as lord, or serve him with a good heart, +if he would not do according to their will.</p> + +<p>There being naught else to do, the lord deferred to +this counsel of his knights, and begged them to name +the lady whom he needs must wed.</p> + +<p>"Sir," answered they, "there is a lord of these parts, +privy to our counsel, who has but one child, a maid, +his only heir. Broad lands will he give as her dowry. +This damsel's name is Coudre, and in all this country +there is none so fair. Be advised: throw away the +ash rod you carry, and take the hazel as your staff.<a name="FNanchor1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> +The ash is a barren stock; but the hazel is thick with +nuts and delight. We shall be content if you take this +maiden as your wife, so it be to the will of God, and +she be given you of her kinsfolk."</p> + +<p>Buron demanded the hand of the lady in marriage, +and her father and kin betrothed her to the lord. Alas! +it was hid from all, that these two were twin sisters. +It was Frêne's lot to be doubly abandoned, and to see +her lover become her sister's husband. When she +learned that her friend purposed taking to himself a +wife, she made no outcry against his falseness. She +continued to serve her lord faithfully, and was diligent +in the business of his house. The sergeant and the varlet +were marvellously wrathful, when they knew that she +must go from amongst them. On the day appointed for +the marriage, Buron bade his friends and acquaintance +to the feast. Together with these came the Archbishop, +and those of Dol who held of him their lands. His +betrothed was brought to his home by her mother. +Great dread had the mother because of Frêne, for she +knew of the love that the lord bore the maiden, and +feared lest her daughter should be a stranger in her own +hall. She spoke to her son-in-law, counselling him to +send Frêne from his house, and to find her an honest +man for her husband. Thus there would be quittance +between them. Very splendid was the feast. Whilst +all was mirth and jollity, the damsel visited the chambers, +to see that each was ordered to her lord's pleasure. +She hid the torment in her heart, and seemed neither +troubled nor downcast. She compassed the bride with +every fair observance, and waited upon her right daintily.</p> + +<a name="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor1">[1]</a><div class=note> This is a play on words; Frêne in the French, +meaning ash, and Coudre meaning hazel.</div> + +<p>Her courage was marvellous to that company of lords +and ladies, who observed her curiously. The mother +of the bride regarded her also, and praised her privily. +She said aloud that had she known the sweetness of +this lady, she would not have taken her lover from her, +nor spoiled her life for the sake of the bride. The night +being come the damsel entered in the bridal chamber +to deck the bed against her lord. She put off her mantle, +and calling the chamberlains, showed them how their +master loved to lie. His bed being softly arrayed, a +coverlet was spread upon the linen sheets. Frêne looked +upon the coverlet: in her eyes it showed too mean a +garnishing for so fair a lord. She turned it over in +her mind, and going to her coffret she took therefrom +that rich stuff of sanguine silk, and set it on the couch. +This she did not only in honour of her friend, but +that the Archbishop might not despise the house, +when he blessed the marriage bed, according to the rite. +When all was ready the mother carried the bride to +that chamber where she should lie, to disarray her +for the night. Looking upon the bed she marked the +silken coverlet, for she had never seen so rich a cloth, +save only that in which she wrapped her child. When +she remembered of this thing, her heart turned to water. +She summoned a chamberlain.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," she said, "tell me in good faith where +this garniture was found."</p> + +<p>"Lady," he made reply, "that you shall know. Our +damsel spread it on the bed, because this dossal is +richer than the coverlet that was there before."</p> + +<p>The lady called for the damsel. Frêne came before +her in haste, being yet without her mantle. All the +mother moved within her, as she plied her with questions.</p> + +<p>"Fair friend, hide it not a whit from me. Tell me +truly where this fair samite was found; whence came +it; who gave it to you? Answer swiftly, and tell me +who bestowed on you this cloth?"</p> + +<p>The damsel made answer to her:</p> + +<p>"Lady, my aunt, the Abbess, gave me this silken stuff, +and charged me to keep it carefully. At the same time +she gave me a ring, which those who put me forth, +had bound upon me."</p> + +<p>"Fair friend, may I see this ring?"</p> + +<p>"Certes, lady, I shall be pleased to show it."</p> + +<p>The lady looked closely on the ring, when it was +brought. She knew again her own, and the crimson +samite flung upon the bed. No doubt was in her mind. +She knew and was persuaded that Frêne was her very +child. All words were spoken, and there was nothing +more to hide.</p> + +<p>"Thou art my daughter, fair friend."</p> + +<p>Then for reason of the pity that was hers, she fell to +the ground, and lay in a swoon. When the lady came +again to herself, she sent for her husband, who, all +adread, hastened to the chamber. He marvelled the +more sorely when his wife fell at his feet, and embracing +him closely, entreated pardon for the evil that she had +done.</p> + +<p>Knowing nothing of her trespass, he made reply, +"Wife, what is this? Between you and me there is +nothing to call for forgiveness. Pardon you may have for +whatever fault you please. Tell me plainly what is +your wish."</p> + +<p>"Husband, my offence is so black, that you had better +give me absolution before I tell you the sin. A long time +ago, by reason of lightness and malice, I spoke evil of my +neighbour, whenas she bore two sons at a birth. I fell +afterwards into the very pit that I had digged. Though +I told you that I was delivered of a daughter, the truth +is that I had borne two maids. One of these I wrapped +in our stuff of samite, together with the ring you gave +me the first time we met, and caused her to be laid beside +a church. Such a sin will out. The cloth and the ring I +have found, and I have recognised our maid, whom I had +lost by my own folly. She is this very damsel—so fair +and amiable to all—whom the knight so greatly loved. +Now we have married the lord to her sister."</p> + +<p>The husband made answer, +"Wife, if your sin be double, our joy is manifold. Very +tenderly hath God dealt with us, in giving us back our +child. I am altogether joyous and content to have two +daughters for one. Daughter, come to your father's +side."</p> + +<p>The damsel rejoiced greatly to hear this story. Her +father tarried no longer, but seeking his son-in-law, +brought him to the Archbishop, and related the adventure. +The knight knew such joy as was never yet. The +Archbishop gave counsel that on the morrow he would +part him and her whom he had joined together. This +was done, for in the morning he severed them, bed and +board. Afterwards he married Frêne to her friend, and +her father accorded the damsel with a right good heart. +Her mother and sister were with her at the wedding, and +for dowry her father gave her the half of his heritage. +When they returned to their own realm they took +Coudre, their daughter, with them. There she was +granted to a lord of those parts, and rich was the feast.</p> + +<p>When this adventure was bruited abroad, and all +the story, the Lay of the Ash Tree was written, so called +of the lady, named Frêne.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="X"></a><h2>X</h2> + +<p>THE LAY OF THE HONEYSUCKLE</p> +<br> + +<p>With a glad heart and right good mind will I tell the +Lay that men call Honeysuckle; and that the truth may +be known of all it shall be told as many a minstrel has +sung it to my ear, and as the scribe hath written it +for our delight. It is of Tristan and Isoude, the Queen. +It is of a love which passed all other love, of love from +whence came wondrous sorrow, and whereof they died +together in the self-same day.</p> + +<p>King Mark was sorely wrath with Tristan, his sister's +son, and bade him avoid his realm, by reason of the +love he bore the Queen. So Tristan repaired to his own +land, and dwelt for a full year in South Wales, where +he was born. Then since he might not come where +he would be, Tristan took no heed to his ways, but +let his life run waste to Death. Marvel not overmuch +thereat, for he who loves beyond measure must ever +be sick in heart and hope, when he may not win according +to his wish. So sick in heart and mind was Tristan that +he left his kingdom, and returned straight to the realm +of his banishment, because that in Cornwall dwelt the +Queen. There he hid privily in the deep forest, withdrawn +from the eyes of men; only when the evening +was come, and all things sought their rest, he prayed +the peasant and other mean folk of that country, of their +charity to grant him shelter for the night. From the +serf he gathered tidings of the King. These gave again +to him what they, in turn, had taken from some outlawed +knight. Thus Tristan learned that when Pentecost +was come King Mark purposed to hold high Court at +Tintagel, and keep the feast with pomp and revelry; +moreover that thither would ride Isoude, the Queen.</p> + +<p>When Tristan heard this thing he rejoiced greatly, +since the Queen might not adventure through the forest, +except he saw her with his eyes. After the King had +gone his way, Tristan entered within the wood, and +sought the path by which the Queen must come. There +he cut a wand from out a certain hazel-tree, and having +trimmed and peeled it of its bark, with his dagger he +carved his name upon the wood. This he placed upon +her road, for well he knew that should the Queen but +mark his name she would bethink her of her friend. +Thus had it chanced before. For this was the sum of +the writing set upon the wand, for Queen Isoude's heart +alone: how that in this wild place Tristan had lurked +and waited long, so that he might look upon her face, +since without her he was already dead. Was it not with +them as with the Honeysuckle and the Hazel tree she +was passing by! So sweetly laced and taken were they +in one close embrace, that thus they might remain +whilst life endured. But should rough hands part so +fond a clasping, the hazel would wither at the root, +and the honeysuckle must fail. Fair friend, thus is +the case with us, nor you without me, nor I without you.</p> + +<p>Now the Queen fared at adventure down the forest +path. She spied the hazel wand set upon her road, and +well she remembered the letters and the name. She bade +the knights of her company to draw rein, and dismount +from their palfreys, so that they might refresh themselves +a little. When her commandment was done she +withdrew from them a space, and called to her Brangwaine, +her maiden, and own familiar friend. Then she +hastened within the wood, to come on him whom more +she loved than any living soul. How great the joy +between these twain, that once more they might speak +together softly, face to face. Isoude showed him her +delight. She showed in what fashion she strove to bring +peace and concord betwixt Tristan and the King, and +how grievously his banishment had weighed upon her +heart. Thus sped the hour, till it was time for them to +part; but when these lovers freed them from the other's +arms, the tears were wet upon their cheeks. So Tristan +returned to Wales, his own realm, even as his uncle +bade. But for the joy that he had had of her, his friend, +for her sweet face, and for the tender words that she had +spoken, yea, and for that writing upon the wand, to +remember all these things, Tristan, that cunning harper, +wrought a new Lay, as shortly I have told you. +Goatleaf, men call this song in English. Chèvrefeuille +it is named in French; but Goatleaf or Honeysuckle, +here you have the very truth in the Lay that I have +spoken.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XI"></a><h2>XI</h2> + +<p>THE LAY OF EQUITAN</p> +<br> + +<p>In ancient days many a noble lord lived in Brittany +beyond the Seas. By reason of their courtesy and nobleness +they would gladly keep in remembrance the deeds +that were done in the land. That these marvellous +things should not be forgotten they fashioned them into +Lays. Amongst these Lays I have heard tell of one +which is not made to die as though it had never been.</p> + +<p>Equitan, lord of Nantes, was a loyal and courteous +gentleman, of great worth, beloved by all in his own +country. He was set on pleasure, and was Love's lover, +as became a gentle knight. Like many others who dote +on woman, he observed neither sense nor measure in +love. But it is in the very nature of Love that proportion +cannot enter into the matter.</p> + +<p>Equitan had for seneschal a right brave and loyal +knight, who was captain of his army, and did justice +in his realm. He was often abroad upon his master's +business, for the King would not forego his delight for +any reason whatever. To dance, to hunt, to fish within +the river—this was all his joy. This seneschal was married +to a wife, by whom great evil came upon the land. +Very desirable was the lady; passing tender of body, +and sweet of vesture, coiffed and fretted with gold. Her +eyes were blue; her face warmly coloured, with a +fragrant mouth, and a dainty nose. Certainly she had +no peer in all the realm. The King had heard much +in praise of this lady and many a time saluted her upon +the way. He had also sent her divers gifts. Often he +considered in his mind how best he might get speech +with the dame. For his privy pleasure this amorous +King went to chase in that country where the seneschal +had his castle. The lady being in her own house, +Equitan craved a lodging for the night. By this means +when the hunt was done, he could speak with her, and +show what was in his heart. Equitan found the lady +as discreet as courteous. He looked closely upon her, +for she was fair of face and person, and sweet of semblance +and address. Love bound him captive to his +car. The god loosed a shaft which entered deeply in his +breast. The arrow pierced to his heart, and from thenceforth +he cared nothing for measure, or kingship, or +delight. Equitan was so surprised of the lady, that he +remained silent and pensive. He heard nothing, and +nothing he could do. All night he lay in unrest upon +the bed, reproaching himself for what had come to pass.</p> + +<p>"Alas," said he, "what evil fate has led me into +this land! The sight only of this lady has put such +anguish into my heart that my members fail beneath +me. It is Love, I deem, who rides me thus cruelly. +But if I love this lady I shall do a great wrong. She +is the wife of my seneschal, and it is my duty to keep +the same love and faith to him as I would wish him +to observe with me. If by any means I could know +what is in her mind, I should be the easier, for torment +is doubled that you bear alone. There is not a dame, +however curst, but would rather love than not; for if +she were a contemner of love where would be her courtesy? +But if she loves, there is not a woman under the +sky who would not suck thereout all the advantage +that she may. If the matter came to the ears of the +seneschal, he ought not to think too hardly of me. He +cannot hope to keep such treasure for himself alone; +and, certes, I shall claim my portion."</p> + +<p>Equitan tossed on his bed, and sighed. His thoughts +were still on the lady, so that in a little he said, +"I think of the ford, before I come to the river. I +go too quickly, for I know not yet whether the lady will +take me as her friend. But know I will as swiftly as I +can, since I cannot get rest or sleep. I will come before +her as soon as it is day, and if she feels as I feel, the +sooner I shall be rid of my pain."</p> + +<p>The King kept vigil till the daylight came at last. +He arose and went forth, as if to the chase. He returned +presently, telling that he was sick, and going straight +to his chamber, lay upon his bed. The seneschal was +very troubled, for he could not imagine the sickness +of which his master felt the pangs. He counselled his +wife to seek their guest, that she might cheer and comfort +him in his trouble. When they were alone the King +opened to her his heart. He told her that he was dying +for her love, and that if she had no more than friendship +to offer, he preferred death before life.</p> + +<p>"Sire," replied the dame, "I require a little time to +think of what you say, for I cannot answer yes or no, +without thought, in a business of this moment. I am +not of your wealth, and you are too high a lord, for your +love to do more than rest lightly on me. When you +have had your desire, it will as lightly fly away. My +sorrow would be overlong, if I should love you, and +grant you what you wish. It is much the best that +between you and me love should not be spoken of. +You are a puissant prince; my husband is one of your +vassals, and faith and trust should bind us—not the +dangerous bond of love. Love is only lasting between +like and like. Better is the love of an honest man—so +he be of sense and worth—than that of a prince or +king, with no loyalty in him. She who sets her love more +highly than she can reach, may pluck no fruit from the +tree. The rich man deems that love is his of right. +He prays little of his friend, for he thinks none dare +take her from his hand, and that her tenderness is his +by prize of lordship."</p> + +<p>When she had ceased, Equitan made answer, +"Lady, I can offer you but short thanks for your +words, since they savour of scant courtesy. You speak +of love as a burgess makes a bargain. Those who desire +to get, rather than to give, often find that they have the +worser half of the business. There is no lady under +heaven—so she be courteous and kind and of a good +heart—but would grant her grace to a true lover, even +though she have beneath her cloak only a rich prince +in his castle. Those who care but for a fresh face—tricksters +in love as a cozener with dice—are justly +flouted and deceived, as oftentimes we see. None wastes +pity on him who receives the stripes he deserves. Dear +lady, let me make myself plain. Do not regard me as +your King; look on me as your servant and your friend. +I give my word and plight my troth that all my happiness +shall be found in your pleasure. Let me not die +for your love. You shall be the Dame, and I the page; +you shall be the scornful beauty, and I the prayer at +your knee."</p> + +<p>The King prayed the lady so urgently, so tenderly +he sued for grace, that at the last she assured him of +her love, and gave him the gift of her heart. They +granted rings one to another, and pledged affiance +between them. They kept this faith, and guarded this +love, till they died together, and there was an end to all.</p> + +<p>Equitan and the lady loved for a great while without +it coming to the ears of any. When the King desired +to have speech of his friend, he told his household that +he would be alone, since it was the day appointed for +his bleeding. The King having shut the doors of his +chamber, there was none so bold as to enter therein, +save he were bidden of his lord. Whilst he was busied +in this fashion, the seneschal sat in open court to hear +the pleas and right the wrong. He was as much to the +King's mind, as his wife was to the King's heart. The +lord was so assotted upon the lady that he would neither +take to himself a wife, nor listen to a word upon the +matter. His people blamed him loudly, so loudly that +it came to the ears of the lady. She was passing heavy, +for she feared greatly that the barons would have their +way. When next she had speech with Equitan, in place +of the kiss and sweetness of her customary greeting, +she came before him making great sorrow and in tears. +The King inquiring the reason of her dolour, the lady +replied, +"Sire, I lament our love, and the trouble I always +said would be mine. You are about to wed the daughter +of some King, and my good days are over. Everybody +says so, and I know it to be true. What will become of +me when you put me away! I will die, rather than lose +you, for I may have no other comfort."</p> + +<p>The King made answer very tenderly, +"Fair friend, you need not fear. There will never be +wife of mine to put you from me. I shall never wed, +except your husband die, and then it is you who would +be my queen and lady. I will leave you for no other +dame."</p> + +<p>The lady thanked him sweetly for his words. Much +was she beholden to him in her heart. Since she was +assured that he would not leave her for any other, +she turned over swiftly in her mind the profit that would +come from her husband's death. Much happiness might +be bought at a little cost, if Equitan would lend his aid.</p> + +<p>The King made answer that he would do her will to +the utmost of his power, whether her counsel were for +good or evil.</p> + +<p>"Sire," said the lady, "let it please you to hunt +the forest within the country where I dwell. You +can lodge in my lord's castle, and there you must be +bled. Three days after your surgery is done, you must +call for your bath. My lord shall be bled with you, so +that he may go to his bathing at the same time. It +will be your part to keep him at your side, and make +him your constant companion. It will be mine to +heat the water, and to carry the baths to your chamber. +My husband's bath shall boil so fiercely, that no breathing +man, having entered therein, may come forth living. +When he is dead you must call for your people, and +show them how the seneschal has died suddenly in his +bath."</p> + +<p>Because of his love the King granted her desire, and +promised to do according to her will. Before three +months were done the King rode to the chase within the +lady's realm. He caused surgeons to bleed him for his +health, and the seneschal with him. He said that he +would take his bath on the third day, and the seneschal +required his, too, to be made ready. The lady caused +the water to be heated, and carried the baths to the +chamber. According to her device she set a bath +beside each bed, filling with boiling water that bath +which her lord should enter. Her lord had gone forth +for a little, so for a space the King and the lady were +alone. They sat on the husband's bed, and looked +tenderly each on the other, near by that heated bath. +The door of the chamber was kept by a young damsel +to give them warning. The seneschal made haste to +return, and would have struck on the door of the +chamber, but was stayed by the maiden. He put her +by, and in his impatience flung the door wide open. +Entering he found his master and his wife clasped in +each other's arms. When the King saw the seneschal +he had no thought but to hide his dishonour. He +started up, and sprang with joined feet in the bath +that was filled with boiling water. There he perished +miserably, in the very snare he had spread for another, +who was safe and sound. The seneschal marked what +had happened to the King. In his rage he turned to +his wife, and laying hands upon her thrust her, head +first, in the self-same bath. So they died together, the +King first, and the lady afterwards, with him.</p> + +<p>Those who are willing to listen to fair words, may +learn from this ensample, that he who seeks another's +ill often brings the evil upon himself.</p> + +<p>As I have told you before, of this adventure the +Bretons made the Lay of Equitan, the lady whom he +loved, and of their end.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XII"></a><h2>XII</h2> + +<p>THE LAY OF MILON</p> +<br> + +<p>He who would tell divers tales must know how to vary +the tune. To win the favour of any, he must speak to +the understanding of all. I purpose in this place to +show you the story of Milon, and—since few words are +best—I will set out the adventure as briefly as I may.</p> + +<p>Milon was born in South Wales. So great was his +prowess that from the day he was dubbed knight there +was no champion who could stand before him in the lists. +He was a passing fair knight, open and brave, courteous +to his friends, and stern to his foes. Men praised his +name in whatever realm they talked of gallant deeds—Ireland, +Norway, and Wales, yea, from Jutland even +to Albania. Since he was praised by the frank, he was +therefore envied of the mean. Nevertheless, by reason of +his skill with the spear, he was counted a very worshipful +knight, and was honourably entreated by many a prince +in divers lands.</p> + +<p>In Milon's own realm there lived a lord whose name +has gone from mind. With this baron dwelt his daughter, +a passing fair and gracious damsel. Much talk had this +maiden heard of Milon's knightly deeds, so that she +began to set her thoughts upon him, because of the good +men spoke of him. She sent him a message by a sure +hand, saying that if her love was to his mind, sweetly +would it be to her heart. Milon rejoiced greatly when +he knew this thing. He thanked the lady for her words, +giving her love again in return for her own, and swearing +that he would never depart therefrom any day of his days. +Beyond this courteous answer Milon bestowed on the messenger +costly gifts, and made him promises that were +richer still.</p> + +<p>"Friend," said he, "of your charity I pray you that I +may have speech with my friend, in such a fashion +that none shall know of our meeting. Carry her this, my +golden ring. Tell her, on my part, that so she pleases she +shall come to me, or, if it be her better pleasure, I will go +to her."</p> + +<p>The messenger bade farewell, and returned to his lady. +He placed the ring in her hand, saying that he had +done her will, as he was bidden to do.</p> + +<p>Right joyous was the damsel to know that Milon's love +was tender as her own. She required her friend to come +for speech within the private garden of her house, where +she was wont to take her delight. Milon came at her +commandment. He came so often, and so dearly she +loved him, that in the end she gave him all that maid may +give. When the damsel perceived how it was with her, +she sent messages to her friend, telling him of her case, +and making great sorrow.</p> + +<p>"I have lost my father and all his wealth," said the +lady, "for when he hears of this matter he will make +of me an example. Either I shall be tormented with +the sword, or else he will sell me as a slave in a far +country."</p> + +<p>(For such was the usage of our fathers in the days +of this tale).</p> + +<p>Milon grieved sorely, and made answer that he would +do the thing the damsel thought most seemly to be done.</p> + +<p>"When the child is born," replied the lady, "you must carry him +forthwith to my sister. She is a rich dame, pitiful and good, and is +wedded to a lord of Northumberland. You will send messages with the +babe—both in writing and by speech—that the little innocent is her +sister's child. Whether it be a boy or girl his mother will have +suffered much because of him, and for her sister's sake you will pray +her to cherish the babe. Beyond this I shall set your signet by a lace +about his neck, and write letters wherein shall be made plain the name +of his sire, and the sad story of his mother. When he shall have grown +tall, and of an age to understand these matters, his aunt will give him +your ring, and rehearse to him the letter. If this be done, perchance +the orphan will not be fatherless all his days."</p> + +<p>Milon approved the counsel of the lady, and when her +time had come she was brought to bed of a boy. The old +nurse who tended her mistress was privy to the damsel's +inmost mind. So warily she went to work, so cunning was +she in gloss and concealment, that none within the palace +knew that there was aught to hide. The damsel looked +upon her boy, and saw that he was very fair. She laced +the ring about his neck, and set the letter that it were +death to find, within a silken chatelaine. The child +was then placed in his cradle, swathed close in white +linen. A pillow of feathers was put beneath his head, +and over all was laid a warm coverlet, wadded with +fur. In this fashion the ancient nurse gave the babe to +his father, who awaited him within the garden. Milon +commended the child to his men, charging them to carry +him loyally, by such towns as they knew, to that lady +beyond the Humber. The servitors set forth, bearing the +infant with them. Seven times a day they reposed them +in their journey, so that the women might nourish the +babe, and bathe and tend him duly. They served their +lord so faithfully, keeping such watch upon the way, +that at the last they won to the lady to whom they +were bidden. The lady received them courteously, as +became her breeding. She broke the seal of the letter, and +when she was assured of what was therein, marvellously +she cherished the infant. These having bestowed the boy +in accordance with their lord's commandment, returned +to their own land.</p> + +<p>Milon went forth from his realm to serve beyond the +seas for guerdon. His friend remained within her house +and was granted by her father in marriage to a right rich +baron of that country. Though this baron was a worthy +knight, justly esteemed of all his fellows, the damsel was +grieved beyond measure when she knew her father's will. +She called to mind the past, and regretted that Milon had +gone from the country, since he would have helped her +in her need.</p> + +<p>"Alas!" said the lady, "what shall I do? I doubt +that I am lost, for my lord will find that his bride is +not a maid. If this becomes known they will make +me a bondwoman for all my days. Would that my +friend were here to free me from this coil. It were good +for me to die rather than to live, but by no means can I +escape from their hands. They have set warders about +me, men, old and young, whom they call my chamberlains, +contemners of love, who delight themselves in +sadness. But endure it I must, for, alas, I know not +how to die."</p> + +<p>So on the appointed day the lady was wedded to the +baron, and her husband took her to dwell with him +in his fief.</p> + +<p>When Milon returned to his own country he was right +heavy and sorrowful to learn of this marriage. He +lamented his wretched case, but in this he found comfort, +that he was not far from the realm where the lady abode +whom so tenderly he loved. Milon commenced to think +within himself how best he might send letters to the +damsel that he was come again to his home, yet so that +none should have knowledge thereof. He wrote a +letter, and sealed it with his seal. This message he +made fast to the neck, and hid within the plumage of +a swan that was long his, and was greatly to his +heart. He bade his squire to come, and made him +his messenger.</p> + +<p>"Change thy raiment swiftly," said he, "and hasten to +the castle of my friend. Take with thee my swan, and see +that none, neither servant nor handmaid, delivers the +bird to my lady, save thyself alone."</p> + +<p>The squire did according to his lord's commandment. +He made him ready quickly, and went forth, bearing +the swan with him. He went by the nearest road, and +passing through the streets of the city, came before the +portal of the castle. In answer to his summons the porter +drew near.</p> + +<p>"Friend," said he, "hearken to me. I am of Caerleon, +and a fowler by craft. Within my nets I have snared the +most marvellous swan in the world. This wondrous bird +I would bestow forthwith upon your lady, but perforce I +must offer her the gift with my own hand."</p> + +<p>"Friend," replied the porter, "fowlers are not always +welcomed of ladies. If you come with me I will bring +you where I may know whether it pleases my lady to have +speech with you and to receive your gift."</p> + +<p>The porter entered in the hall, where he found none but +two lords seated at a great table, playing chess for their +delight. He swiftly returned on his steps, and the fowler +with him, so furtively withal that the lords were not +disturbed at their game, nor perceived aught of the matter. +They went therefore to the chamber of the lady. In +answer to their call the door was opened to them by a +maiden, who led them before her dame. When the swan +was proffered to the lady it pleased her to receive the gift. +She summoned a varlet of her household and gave the +bird to his charge, commanding him to keep it safely, +and to see that it ate enough and to spare.</p> + +<p>"Lady," said the servitor, "I will do your bidding. +We shall never receive from any fowler on earth such +another bird as this. The swan is fit to serve at a royal +table, for the bird is plump as he is fair."</p> + +<p>The varlet put the swan in his lady's hands. She took +the bird kindly, and smoothing his head and neck, +felt the letter that was hidden beneath its feathers. The +blood pricked in her veins, for well she knew that the +writing was sent her by her friend. She caused the fowler +to be given of her bounty, and bade the men to go forth +from her chamber. When they had parted the lady +called a maiden to her aid. She broke the seal, and +unfastening the letter, came upon the name of Milon at +the head. She kissed the name a hundred times through +her tears. When she might read the writing she learned +of the great pain and dolour that her lover suffered by +day and by night. In you—he wrote—is all my pleasure, +and in your white hands it lies to heal me or to slay. +Strive to find a plan by which we may speak as friend +to friend, if you would have me live. The knight +prayed her in his letter to send him an answer by means +of the swan. If the bird were well guarded, and kept +without provand for three days, he would of a surety +fly back to the place from whence he came, with any +message that the lady might lace about his neck.</p> + +<p>When the damsel had considered the writing, and +understood what was put therein, she commanded that her +bird should be tended carefully, and given plenteously to +eat and to drink. She held him for a month within her +chamber, but this was less from choice, than for the +craft that was necessary to obtain the ink and parchment +requisite for her writing. At the end she wrote a letter +according to her heart, and sealed it with her ring. The +lady caused the swan to fast for three full days; then +having concealed the message about his neck, let him +take his flight. The bird was all anhungered for food, +and remembering well the home from which he drew, he +returned thither as quickly as his wings might bear him.</p> + +<p>He knew again his town, and his master's house, and +descended to the ground at Milon's very feet. Milon +rejoiced greatly when he marked his own. He caught +the bird by his wings, and crying for his steward, bade +him give the swan to eat. The knight removed the +missive from the messenger's neck. He glanced from head +to head of the letter, seeking the means that he hoped to +find, and the salutation he so tenderly wished. Sweet +to his heart was the writing, for the lady wrote that without +him there was no joy in her life, and since it was his +desire to hear by the swan, it would be her pleasure also.</p> + +<p>For twenty years the swan was made the messenger of +these two lovers, who might never win together. There +was no speech between them, save that carried by the +bird. They caused the swan to fast for three days, +and then sent him on his errand. He to whom the letter +came, saw to it that the messenger was fed to heart's +desire. Many a time the swan went upon his journey, +for however strictly the lady was held of her husband, +there was none who had suspicion of a bird.</p> + +<p>The dame beyond the Humber nourished and tended +the boy committed to her charge with the greatest care. +When he was come to a fitting age she made him to +be knighted of her lord, for goodly and serviceable was +the lad. On the same day the aunt read over to him +the letter, and put in his hand the ring. She told him +the name of his mother, and his father's story. In all +the world there was no worthier knight, nor a more +chivalrous and gallant gentleman. The lad hearkened +diligently to the lady's tale. He rejoiced greatly to hear +of his father's prowess, and was proud beyond measure of +his renown. He considered within himself, saying to his +own heart, that much should be required of his father's +son, and that he would not be worthy of his blood if he +did not endeavour to merit his name. He determined +therefore that he would leave his country, and seek +adventure as a knight errant, beyond the sea. The +varlet delayed no longer than the evening. On the morrow +he bade farewell to his aunt, who having warned and +admonished him for his good, gave him largely of her +wealth, to bring him on his way. He rode to Southampton, +that he might find a ship equipped for sea, +and so came to Barfleur. Without any tarrying the lad +went straight to Brittany, where he spent his money and +himself in feasts and in tourneys. The rich men of the +land were glad of his friendship, for there was none who +bore himself better in the press with spear or with sword. +What he took from the rich he bestowed on such knights +as were poor and luckless. These loved him greatly, +since he gained largely and spent freely, granting of his +wealth to all. Wherever this knight sojourned in the +realm he bore away the prize. So debonair was he and +chivalrous that his fame and praise crossed the water, +and were noised abroad in his own land. Folk told how a +certain knight from beyond the Humber, who had passed +the sea in quest of wealth and honour, had so done, that +by reason of his prowess, his liberality, and his modesty, +men called him the Knight Peerless, since they did not +know his name.</p> + +<p>This praise of the good knight, and of his deeds, came +to be heard of Milon. Very dolent was he and sorely +troubled that so young a knight should be esteemed above +his fathers. He marvelled greatly that the stout spears +of the past had not put on their harness and broken a +lance for their ancient honour. One thing he determined, +that he would cross the sea without delay, so that he +might joust with the dansellon, and abate his pride. In +wrath and anger he purposed to fight, to beat his adversary +from the saddle, and bring him at last to shame. +After this was ended he would seek his son, of whom he +had heard nothing, since he had gone from his aunt's +castle. Milon caused his friend to know of his wishes. +He opened out to her all his thought, and craved her +permission to depart. This letter he sent by the swan, +commending the bird to her care.</p> + +<p>When the lady heard of her lover's purpose, she thanked +him for his courtesy, for greatly was his counsel to her +mind. She approved his desire to quit the realm for +the sake of his honour, and far from putting let and +hindrance in his path, trusted that in the end he would +bring again her son. Since Milon was assured of his +friend's goodwill, he arrayed himself richly, and crossing +the sea to Normandy, came afterwards into the land of +the Bretons. There he sought the friendship of the lords +of that realm, and fared to all the tournaments of which +he might hear. Milon bore himself proudly, and gave +graciously of his wealth, as though he were receiving a +gift. He sojourned till the winter was past in that land, +he, and a brave company of knights whom he held in his +house with him. When Easter had come, and the season +that men give to tourneys and wars and the righting of +their private wrongs, Milon considered how he could meet +with the knight whom men called Peerless. At that +time a tournament was proclaimed to be held at Mont +St. Michel. Many a Norman and Breton rode to the +game; knights of Flanders and of France were there in +plenty, but few fared from England. Milon drew to the +lists amongst the first. He inquired diligently of the +young champion, and all men were ready to tell from +whence he came, and of his harness, and of the blazon on +his shield. At length the knight appeared in the lists and +Milon looked upon the adversary he so greatly desired +to see. Now in this tournament a knight could joust +with that lord who was set over against him, or he could +seek to break a lance with his chosen foe. A player must +gain or lose, and he might find himself opposed either +by his comrade or his enemy. Milon did well and worshipfully +in the press, and was praised of many that +day. But the Knight Peerless carried the cry from all +his fellows, for none might stand before him, nor rival +him in skill and address. Milon observed him curiously. +The lad struck so heavily, he thrust home so shrewdly, that +Milon's hatred changed to envy as he watched. Very +comely showed the varlet, and much to Milon's mind. +The older knight set himself over against the champion, +and they met together in the centre of the field. Milon +struck his adversary so fiercely, that the lance splintered +in his gauntlet; but the young knight kept his seat +without even losing a stirrup. In return his spear was +aimed with such cunning that he bore his antagonist +to the ground. Milon lay upon the earth bareheaded, +for his helmet was unlaced in the shock. His hair and +beard showed white to all, and the varlet was heavy to +look on him whom he had overthrown. He caught +the destrier by the bridle, and led him before the stricken +man.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said he, "I pray you to get upon your horse. +I am right grieved and vexed that I should have done +this wrong. Believe me that it was wrought unwittingly."</p> + +<p>Milon sprang upon his steed. He approved the +courtesy of his adversary, and looking upon the hand +that held his bridle, he knew again his ring. He made +inquiry of the lad.</p> + +<p>"Friend," said he, "hearken to me. Tell me now +the name of thy sire. How art thou called; who is +thy mother? I have seen much, and gone to and fro +about the world. All my life I have journeyed from realm +to realm, by reason of tourneys and quarrels and princes' +wars, yet never once by any knight have I been borne +from my horse. This day I am overthrown by a boy, +and yet I cannot help but love thee."</p> + +<p>The varlet answered, +"I know little of my father. I understand that his +name is Milon, and that he was a knight of Wales. +He loved the daughter of a rich man, and was loved +again. My mother bore me in secret, and caused me +to be carried to Northumberland, where I was taught and +tended. An old aunt was at the costs of my nourishing. +She kept me at her side, till of all her gifts she gave me +horse and arms, and sent me here, where I have remained. +In hope and wish I purpose to cross the sea, and return +to my own realm. There I would seek out my father, +and learn how it stands between him and my mother. +I will show him my golden ring, and I will tell him +of such privy matters that he may not deny our +kinship, but must love me as a son, and ever hold me +dear."</p> + +<p>When Milon heard these words he could endure +them no further. He got him swiftly from his horse, +and taking the lad by the fringe of his hauberk, he +cried, +"Praise be to God, for now am I healed. Fair friend, +by my faith thou art my very son, for whom I came +forth from my own land, and have sought through all +this realm."</p> + +<p>The varlet climbed from the saddle, and stood upon +his feet. Father and son kissed each other tenderly, +with many comfortable words. Their love was fair to +see, and those who looked upon their meeting, wept +for joy and pity.</p> +<br> + +<p>Milon and his son departed from the tournament so +soon as it came to an end, for the knight desired greatly +to speak to the varlet at leisure, and to open before him +all his mind. They rode to their hostel, and with the +knights of their fellowship, passed the hours in mirth +and revelry. Milon spoke to the lad of his mother. He +told him of their long love, and how she was given by +her father in marriage to a baron of his realm. He +rehearsed the years of separation, accepted by both +with a good heart, and of the messenger who carried +letters between them, when there was none they dared +to trust in, save only the swan.</p> + +<p>The son made answer,</p> + +<p>"In faith, fair father, let us return to our own land. +There I will slay this husband, and you shall yet be +my mother's lord."</p> + +<p>This being accorded between them, on the morrow they +made them ready for the journey, and bidding farewell to +their friends, set forth for Wales. They embarked in a +propitious hour, for a fair wind carried the ship right +swiftly to its haven. They had not ridden far upon +their road, when they met a certain squire of the lady's +household on his way to Brittany, bearing letters to +Milon. His task was done long before sundown in +chancing on the knight. He gave over the sealed +writing with which he was charged, praying the knight to +hasten to his friend without any tarrying, since her +husband was in his grave. Milon rejoiced greatly when +he knew this thing. He showed the message to his son, +and pressed forward without pause or rest. They made +such speed, that at the end they came to the castle where +the lady had her lodging. Light of heart was she +when she clasped again her child. These two fond +lovers sought neither countenance of their kin, nor counsel +of any man. Their son handselled them together, and +gave the mother to his sire. From the day they were wed +they dwelt in wealth and in sweetness to the end of +their lives.</p> + +<p>Of their love and content the minstrel wrought this +Lay. I, also, who have set it down in writing, have won +guerdon enough just by telling over the tale.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XIII"></a><h2>XIII</h2> + +<p>THE LAY OF YONEC</p> +<br> + +<p>Since I have commenced I would not leave any of these +Lays untold. The stories that I know I would tell +you forthwith. My hope is now to rehearse to you the +story of Yonec, the son of Eudemarec, his mother's +first born child.</p> + +<p>In days of yore there lived in Britain a rich man, old +and full of years, who was lord of the town and realm of +Chepstow. This town is builded on the banks of the +Douglas, and is renowned by reason of many ancient +sorrows which have there befallen. When he was well +stricken in years this lord took to himself a wife, that he +might have children to come after him in his goodly +heritage. The damsel, who was bestowed on this +wealthy lord, came of an honourable house, and was +kind and courteous, and passing fair. She was beloved +by all because of her beauty, and none was more sweetly +spoken of from Chepstow to Lincoln, yea, or from there +to Ireland. Great was their sin who married the maiden +to this aged man. Since she was young and gay, he +shut her fast within his tower, that he might the easier +keep her to himself. He set in charge of the damsel +his elder sister, a widow, to hold her more surely in +ward. These two ladies dwelt alone in the tower, together +with their women, in a chamber by themselves. There +the damsel might have speech of none, except at the +bidding of the ancient dame. More than seven years +passed in this fashion. The lady had no children for +her solace, and she never went forth from the castle +to greet her kinsfolk and her friends. Her husband's +jealousy was such that when she sought her bed, no +chamberlain or usher was permitted in her chamber +to light the candles. The lady became passing heavy. +She spent her days in sighs and tears. Her loveliness +began to fail, for she gave no thought to her person. +Indeed at times she hated the very shadow of that beauty +which had spoiled all her life.</p> + +<p>Now when April had come with the gladness of the +birds, this lord rose early on a day to take his pleasure +in the woods. He bade his sister to rise from her bed +to make the doors fast behind him. She did his will, +and going apart, commenced to read the psalter that +she carried in her hand. The lady awoke, and shamed +the brightness of the sun with her tears. She saw that +the old woman was gone forth from the chamber, so +she made her complaint without fear of being overheard.</p> + +<p>"Alas," said she, "in an ill hour was I born. My +lot is hard to be shut in this tower, never to go out till +I am carried to my grave. Of whom is this jealous +lord fearful that he holds me so fast in prison? Great +is a man's folly always to have it in mind that he may +be deceived. I cannot go to church, nor hearken to the +service of God. If I might talk to folk, or have a little +pleasure in my life, I should show the more tenderness +to my husband, as is my wish. Very greatly are my +parents and my kin to blame for giving me to this +jealous old man, and making us one flesh. I cannot even +look to become a widow, for he will never die. In place +of the waters of baptism, certainly he was plunged in +the flood of the Styx. His nerves are like iron, and his +veins quick with blood as those of a young man. Often +have I heard that in years gone by things chanced to the +sad, which brought their sorrows to an end. A knight +would meet with a maiden, fresh and fair to his desire. +Damsels took to themselves lovers, discreet and brave, +and were blamed of none. Moreover since these ladies +were not seen of any, except their friends, who was +there to count them blameworthy! Perchance I deceive +myself, and in spite of all the tales, such adventures +happened to none. Ah, if only the mighty God would +but shape the world to my wish!"</p> + +<p>When the lady had made her plaint, as you have +known, the shadow of a great bird darkened the narrow +window, so that she marvelled what it might mean. +This falcon flew straightway into the chamber, jessed +and hooded from the glove, and came where the dame +was seated. Whilst the lady yet wondered upon him, +the tercel became a young and comely knight before her +eyes. The lady marvelled exceedingly at this sorcery. +Her blood turned to water within her, and because of +her dread she hid her face in her hands. By reason of +his courtesy the knight first sought to persuade her to +put away her fears.</p> + +<p>"Lady," said he, "be not so fearful. To you this +hawk shall be as gentle as a dove. If you will listen to +my words I will strive to make plain what may now be +dark. I have come in this shape to your tower that I +may pray you of your tenderness to make of me your +friend. I have loved you for long, and in my heart +have esteemed your love above anything in the world. +Save for you I have never desired wife or maid, and I +shall find no other woman desirable, until I die. I should +have sought you before, but I might not come, nor even +leave my own realm, till you called me in your need. +Lady, in charity, take me as your friend."</p> + +<p>The lady took heart and courage whilst she hearkened +to these words. Presently she uncovered her face, and +made answer. She said that perchance she would be +willing to give him again his hope, if only she had assurance +of his faith in God. This she said because of her +fear, but in her heart she loved him already by reason +of his great beauty. Never in her life had she beheld +so goodly a youth, nor a knight more fair.</p> + +<p>"Lady," he replied, "you ask rightly. For nothing +that man can give would I have you doubt my faith and +affiance. I believe truly in God, the Maker of all, who +redeemed us from the woe brought on us by our father +Adam, in the eating of that bitter fruit. This God is +and was and ever shall be the life and light of us poor +sinful men. If you still give no credence to my word, +ask for your chaplain; tell him that since you are sick +you greatly desire to hear the Service appointed by +God to heal the sinner of his wound. I will take your +semblance, and receive the Body of the Lord. You will +thus be certified of my faith, and never have reason +to mistrust me more."</p> + +<p>When the sister of that ancient lord returned from +her prayers to the chamber, she found that the lady +was awake. She told her that since it was time to get +her from bed, she would make ready her vesture. The +lady made answer that she was sick, and begged her +to warn the chaplain, for greatly she feared that she +might die. The agèd dame replied,</p> + +<p>"You must endure as best you may, for my lord +has gone to the woods, and none will enter in the tower, +save me."</p> + +<p>Right distressed was the lady to hear these words. +She called a woman's wiles to her aid, and made seeming +to swoon upon her bed. This was seen by the sister of +her lord, and much was she dismayed. She set wide +the doors of the chamber, and summoned the priest. +The chaplain came as quickly as he was able, carrying +with him the Lord's Body. The knight received the +Gift, and drank of the Wine of that chalice; then the +priest went his way, and the old woman made fast the +door behind him.</p> + +<p>The knight and the lady were greatly at their ease; +a comelier and a blither pair were never seen. They +had much to tell one to the other, but the hours passed +till it was time for the knight to go again to his own +realm. He prayed the dame to give him leave to depart, +and she sweetly granted his prayer, yet so only that he +promised to return often to her side.</p> + +<p>"Lady," he made answer, "so you please to require +me at any hour, you may be sure that I shall hasten at +your pleasure. But I beg you to observe such +measure in the matter, that none may do us wrong. +This old woman will spy upon us night and day, and if +she observes our friendship, will certainly show it to +her lord. Should this evil come upon us, for both it +means separation, and for me, most surely, death."</p> + +<p>The knight returned to his realm, leaving behind +him the happiest lady in the land. On the morrow +she rose sound and well, and went lightly through the +week. She took such heed to her person, that her former +beauty came to her again. The tower that she was wont +to hate as her prison, became to her now as a pleasant +lodging, that she would not leave for any abode and +garden on earth. There she could see her friend at will, +when once her lord had gone forth from the chamber. +Early and late, at morn and eve, the lovers met together. +God grant her joy was long, against the evil day that +came.</p> + +<p>The husband of the lady presently took notice of +the change in his wife's fashion and person. He was +troubled in his soul, and misdoubting his sister, took +her apart to reason with her on a day. He told her of +his wonder that his dame arrayed her so sweetly, and +inquired what this should mean. The crone answered +that she knew no more than he, "for we have very little +speech one with another. She sees neither kin nor friend; +but, now, she seems quite content to remain alone in +her chamber."</p> + +<p>The husband made reply,</p> + +<p>"Doubtless she is content, and well content. But +by my faith, we must do all we may to discover the +cause. Hearken to me. Some morning when I have +risen from bed, and you have shut the doors upon me, +make pretence to go forth, and let her think herself +alone. You must hide yourself in a privy place, where +you can both hear and see. We shall then learn the +secret of this new found joy."</p> + +<p>Having devised this snare the twain went their ways. +Alas, for those who were innocent of their counsel, and +whose feet would soon be tangled in the net.</p> + +<p>Three days after, this husband pretended to go forth +from his house. He told his wife that the King had +bidden him by letters to his Court, but that he should +return speedily. He went from the chamber, making +fast the door. His sister arose from her bed, and hid +behind her curtains, where she might see and hear +what so greedily she desired to know. The lady could +not sleep, so fervently she wished for her friend. The +knight came at her call, but he might not tarry, nor +cherish her more than one single hour. Great was the +joy between them, both in word and tenderness, till +he could no longer stay. All this the crone saw with +her eyes, and stored in her heart. She watched the +fashion in which he came, and the guise in which he +went. But she was altogether fearful and amazed that +so goodly a knight should wear the semblance of a hawk. +When the husband returned to his house—for he was +near at hand—his sister told him that of which she was +the witness, and of the truth concerning the knight. +Right heavy was he and wrathful. Straightway he +contrived a cunning gin for the slaying of this bird. He +caused four blades of steel to be fashioned, with point +and edge sharper than the keenest razor. These he +fastened firmly together, and set them securely within +that window, by which the tercel would come to his +lady. Ah, God, that a knight so fair might not see nor +hear of this wrong, and that there should be none to +show him of such treason.</p> + +<p>On the morrow the husband arose very early, at daybreak, +saying that he should hunt within the wood. +His sister made the doors fast behind him, and returned +to her bed to sleep, because it was yet but dawn. The +lady lay awake, considering of the knight whom she +loved so loyally. Tenderly she called him to her side. +Without any long tarrying the bird came flying at her +will. He flew in at the open window, and was entangled +amongst the blades of steel. One blade pierced his +body so deeply, that the red blood gushed from the +wound. When the falcon knew that his hurt was to +death, he forced himself to pass the barrier, and coming +before his lady fell upon her bed, so that the sheets +were dabbled with his blood. The lady looked upon +her friend and his wound, and was altogether anguished +and distraught.</p> + +<p>"Sweet friend," said the knight, "it is for you that +my life is lost. Did I not speak truly that if our loves +were known, very surely I should be slain?"</p> + +<p>On hearing these words the lady's head fell upon the +pillow, and for a space she lay as she were dead. The +knight cherished her sweetly. He prayed her not to +sorrow overmuch, since she should bear a son who would +be her exceeding comfort. His name should be called +Yonec. He would prove a valiant knight, and would +avenge both her and him by slaying their enemy. The +knight could stay no longer, for he was bleeding to death +from his hurt. In great dolour of mind and body he +flew from the chamber. The lady pursued the bird +with many shrill cries. In her desire to follow him she +sprang forth from the window. Marvellous it was that +she was not killed outright, for the window was fully +twenty feet from the ground. When the lady made her +perilous leap she was clad only in her shift. Dressed +in this fashion she set herself to follow the knight by +the drops of blood which dripped from his wound. She +went along the road that he had gone before, till she +lighted on a little lodge. This lodge had but one door, +and it was stained with blood. By the marks on the +lintel she knew that Eudemarec had refreshed him in the +hut, but she could not tell whether he was yet within. +The damsel entered in the lodge, but all was dark, and +since she might not find him, she came forth, and pursued +her way. She went so far that at the last the lady +came to a very fair meadow. She followed the track +of blood across this meadow, till she saw a city near at +hand. This fair city was altogether shut in with high +walls. There was no house, nor hall, nor tower, but +shone bright as silver, so rich were the folk who dwelt +therein. Before the town lay a still water. To the right +spread a leafy wood, and on the left hand, near by the +keep, ran a clear river. By this broad stream the ships +drew to their anchorage, for there were above three +hundred lying in the haven. The lady entered in the +city by the postern gate. The gouts of freshly fallen +blood led her through the streets to the castle. None +challenged her entrance to the city; none asked of her +business in the streets; she passed neither man nor +woman upon her way. Spots of red blood lay on the +staircase of the palace. The lady entered and found +herself within a low ceiled room, where a knight was +sleeping on a pallet. She looked upon his face and +passed beyond. She came within a larger room, empty, +save for one lonely couch, and for the knight who slept +thereon. But when the lady entered in the third chamber +she saw a stately bed, that well she knew to be her +friend's. This bed was of inwrought gold, and was +spread with silken cloths beyond price. The furniture +was worth the ransom of a city, and waxen torches in +sconces of silver lighted the chamber, burning night and +day. Swiftly as the lady had come she knew again her +friend, directly she saw him with her eyes. She hastened +to the bed, and incontinently swooned for grief. The +knight clasped her in his arms, bewailing his wretched +lot, but when she came to her mind, he comforted her +as sweetly as he might.</p> + +<p>"Fair friend, for God's love I pray you get from +hence as quickly as you are able. My time will end before +the day, and my household, in their wrath, may do you +a mischief if you are found in the castle. They are +persuaded that by reason of your love I have come to +my death. Fair friend, I am right heavy and sorrowful +because of you."</p> + +<p>The lady made answer, +"Friend, the best thing that can befall me is that we +shall die together. How may I return to my husband? +If he finds me again he will certainly slay me with the +sword."</p> + +<p>The knight consoled her as he could. He bestowed +a ring upon his friend, teaching her that so long as she +wore the gift, her husband would think of none of these +things, nor care for her person, nor seek to revenge him +for his wrongs. Then he took his sword and rendered +it to the lady, conjuring her by their great love, never +to give it to the hand of any, till their son should be +counted a brave and worthy knight. When that time +was come she and her lord would go—together with +the son—to a feast. They would lodge in an Abbey, +where should be seen a very fair tomb. There her son +must be told of this death; there he must be girt +with this sword. In that place shall be rehearsed the +tale of his birth, and his father, and all this bitter +wrong. And then shall be seen what he will do.</p> + +<p>When the knight had shown his friend all that was +in his heart, he gave her a bliaut, passing rich, that she +might clothe her body, and get her from the palace. +She went her way, according to his command, bearing +with her the ring, and the sword that was her most +precious treasure. She had not gone half a mile beyond +the gate of the city when she heard the clash of bells, +and the cries of men who lamented the death of their +lord. Her grief was such that she fell four separate +times upon the road, and four times she came from out +her swoon. She bent her steps to the lodge where her +friend had refreshed him, and rested for awhile. Passing +beyond she came at last to her own land, and returned +to her husband's tower. There, for many a day, she +dwelt in peace, since—as Eudemarec foretold—her +lord gave no thought to her outgoings, nor wished to +avenge him, neither spied upon her any more.</p> + +<p>In due time the lady was delivered of a son, whom +she named Yonec. Very sweetly nurtured was the lad. +In all the realm there was not his like for beauty and +generosity, nor one more skilled with the spear. When +he was of a fitting age the King dubbed him knight. +Hearken now, what chanced to them all, that self-same +year.</p> + +<p>It was the custom of that country to keep the feast +of St. Aaron with great pomp at Caerleon, and many +another town besides. The husband rode with his +friends to observe the festival, as was his wont. Together +with him went his wife and her son, richly +apparelled. As the roads were not known of the company, +and they feared to lose their way, they took with +them a certain youth to lead them in the straight path. +The varlet brought them to a town; in all the world +was none so fair. Within this city was a mighty Abbey, +filled with monks in their holy habit. The varlet craved +a lodging for the night, and the pilgrims were welcomed +gladly of the monks, who gave them meat and drink +near by the Abbot's table. On the morrow, after Mass, +they would have gone their way, but the Abbot prayed +them to tarry for a little, since he would show them his +chapter house and dormitory, and all the offices of the +Abbey. As the Abbot had sheltered them so courteously, +the husband did according to his wish.</p> + +<p>Immediately that the dinner had come to an end, +the pilgrims rose from table, and visited the offices of +the Abbey. Coming to the chapter house they entered +therein, and found a fair tomb, exceeding great, covered +with a silken cloth, banded with orfreys of gold. Twenty +torches of wax stood around this rich tomb, at the head, +the foot, and the sides. The candlesticks were of fine +gold, and the censer swung in that chantry was fashioned +from an amethyst. When the pilgrims saw the great +reverence vouchsafed to this tomb, they inquired of +the guardians as to whom it should belong, and of the +lord who lay therein. The monks commenced to weep, +and told with tears, that in that place was laid the body +of the best, the bravest, and the fairest knight who ever +was, or ever should be born. "In his life he was King +of this realm, and never was there so worshipful a lord. +He was slain at Caerwent for the love of a lady of those +parts. Since then the country is without a King. Many +a day have we waited for the son of these luckless lovers +to come to our land, even as our lord commanded us +to do."</p> + +<p>When the lady heard these words she cried to her +son with a loud voice before them all.</p> + +<p>"Fair son," said she, "you have heard why God +has brought us to this place. It is your father who lies +dead within this tomb. Foully was he slain by this +ancient Judas at your side."</p> + +<p>With these words she plucked out the sword, and +tendered him the glaive that she had guarded for so +long a season. As swiftly as she might she told the +tale of how Eudemarec came to have speech with his +friend in the guise of a hawk; how the bird was betrayed +to his death by the jealousy of her lord; and of Yonec +the falcon's son. At the end she fell senseless across +the tomb, neither did she speak any further word until +the soul had gone from her body. When the son saw +that his mother lay dead upon her lover's grave, he +raised his father's sword and smote the head of that +ancient traitor from his shoulders. In that hour he +avenged his father's death, and with the same blow +gave quittance for the wrongs of his mother. As soon +as these tidings were published abroad, the folk of that +city came together, and setting the body of that fair +lady within a coffin, sealed it fast, and with due rite +and worship placed it beside the body of her friend. +May God grant them pardon and peace. As to Yonec, +their son, the people acclaimed him for their lord, as +he departed from the church.</p> + +<p>Those who knew the truth of this piteous adventure, +after many days shaped it to a Lay, that all men might +learn the plaint and the dolour that these two friends +suffered by reason of their love.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XIV"></a><h2>XIV</h2> + +<p>THE LAY OF THE THORN</p> +<br> + +<p>Whosoever counts these Lays as fable, may be assured +that I am not of his mind. The dead and past stories +that I have told again in divers fashions, are not set +down without authority. The chronicles of these far off +times are yet preserved in the land. They may be read +by the curious at Caerleon, or in the monastery of St. +Aaron. They may be heard in Brittany, and in many +another realm besides. To prove how the remembrance +of such tales endures, I will now relate to you the +adventure of the Two Children, making clear what has +remained hidden to this very hour.</p> + +<p>In Brittany there lived a prince, high of spirit, fair of +person, courteous and kind to all. This Childe was a +King's son, and there were none to cherish him but his +father and his father's wife, for his mother was dead. +The King held him dearer than aught else in the world, +and close he was to the lady's heart. The lady, for +her part, had a daughter by another husband than +the King. Very dainty was the maiden, sweet of colour +and of face, passing young and fair. Both these children, +born to so high estate, were right tender of age, for the +varlet, who was the elder of the twain, was but seven +years. The two children loved together very sweetly. +Nothing seemed of worth to one, if it were not shared +with the other. They were nourished at the same table, +went their ways together, and lived side by side. The +guardians who held them in ward, seeing their great love, +made no effort to put them apart, but allowed them to +have all things in common. The love of these children +increased with their years, but Dame Nature brought +another love to youth and maid than she gave to the +child. They delighted no more in their old frolic and +play. Such sport gave place to clasp and kisses, to +many words, and to long silences. To savour their +friendship they took refuge in an attic of the keep, but all +the years they had passed together, made the new love +flower more sweetly in their hearts, as each knew well. +Very pure and tender was their love, and good would it +have been if they could have hidden it from their fellows. +This might not be, for in no great while they were spied +upon, and seen.</p> + +<p>It chanced upon a day that this prince, so young and +debonair, came home from the river with an aching +head, by reason of the heat. He entered in a chamber, +and shutting out the noise and clamour, lay upon his +bed, to ease his pain. The Queen was with her daughter +in a chamber, instructing her meetly in that which it +becomes a maid to know. Closer to a damsel's heart is +her lover than her kin. So soon as she heard that her +friend was come again to the house, she stole forth from +her mother, without saying word to any, and accompanied +by none, went straight to the chamber where he +slept. The prince welcomed her gladly, for they had not +met together that day. The lady, who thought no wrong, +condoled with him in his sickness, and of her sweetness +gave him a hundred kisses to soothe his hurt. Too +swiftly sped the time in this fashion. Presently the +Queen noticed that the damsel was no longer with her +at her task. She rose to her feet, and going quickly to +the chamber of the prince, entered therein without call +or knock, for the door was unfastened on the latch. +When the Queen saw these two lovers fondly laced in +each other's arms, she knew and was certified of their +love. Right wrathful was the Queen. She caught the +maiden by the wrist, and shut her fast in her room. She +prayed the King to govern his son more strictly, and to +hold him in such ward about the Court that he might get +no speech with the damsel. Since he could have neither +sight nor word of his friend, save only the sound of weeping +from her chamber, the prince determined to tarry no further +in the palace. He sought his father the self-same +hour, and showed him what was in his mind.</p> + +<p>"Sire," said he, "I crave a gift. If it pleases you to be +a father to your son, make me now a knight. I desire to +seek another realm, and to serve some prince for guerdon. +The road calls me, for many a knight has won much +riches with his sword."</p> + +<p>The King did not refuse the lad's request, but accorded +it should be even as he wished. He prayed the prince to +dwell for a year about the Court, that he might the more +readily assist at such tourneys and follow such feats of +arms as were proclaimed in the kingdom. This the prince +agreed to do—the more readily because there was +nothing else to be done. He remained therefore at the +Court, moving ever by his father's side. The maiden, for +her part, was in the charge of her mother, who reproached +her always for that she had done amiss. The Queen did +not content herself with reproaches and threats. She +used the sharp discipline upon her, so that the maiden +suffered grievously in her person. Sick at heart was +the varlet whilst he hearkened to the beatings, the +discipline and the chastisement wherewith her mother +corrected the damsel. He knew not what to do, for +well he understood that his was the fault, and that by +reason of him was her neck bowed down in her youth. +More and more was he tormented because of his friend.</p> + +<p>More and more the stripes with which she was afflicted +became heavier for him to bear. He shut himself close +within his chamber, and making fast the door, gave his +heart over to tears.</p> + +<p>"Alas," cried he, "what shall I do! How may the +ill be cured that I have brought on us by my lightness +and folly! I love her more than life, and, certes, if I +may not have my friend I will prove that I can die for +her, though I cannot live without her."</p> + +<p>Whilst the prince made this lamentation, the Queen +came before the King.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said she, "I pledge my oath and word as a +crowned lady that I keep my daughter as strictly as I +may. Think to your own son, and see to it that he cannot +set eyes on the maid. He considers none other thing +but how to get clasp and speech of his friend."</p> + +<p>For this reason the King guarded his son about the +Court as closely as the Queen held the maiden in her +chamber. So vigilant was the watch that these pitiful +lovers might never have word together. They had no +leisure to meet; they never looked one on the other; +nor heard tidings of how they did, whether by letter +or by sergeant.</p> + +<p>They lived this death in life till the same year—eight +days before the Feast of St. John—the varlet was dubbed +knight. The King spent the day in the chase, and +returning, brought with him great store of fowl and +venison that he had taken. After supper, when the +tables were removed, the King seated himself for his +delight upon a carpet spread before the dais, his son +and many a courteous lord with him. The fair company +gave ear to the Lay of Alys, sweetly sung by a minstrel +from Ireland, to the music of his rote. When his story +was ended, forthwith he commenced another, and related +the Lay of Orpheus; none being so bold as to disturb +the singer, or to let his mind wander from the song. +Afterwards the knights spoke together amongst themselves. +They told of adventures which in ancient days +had chanced to many, and were noised about Brittany. +Amongst these lords sat a damsel, passing sweet of +tongue. In her turn she told of a certain adventure +which awaited the adventurous at the Ford of the +Thorn, once every year, on the vigil of St. John, "but +much I doubt whether now there be knights so bold +as to dare the perils of that passage." When the newly +made knight heard these words his pride quickened +within him. He considered that although he was belted +with the sword, he had as yet done no deed to prove +his courage in the eyes of men. He deemed the time +had come to show his hardihood, and to put to silence +the malicious lips. He stood upon his feet, calling +upon damsel, King and barons to hearken to his voice, +and spake out manfully in the ears of great and small.</p> + +<p>"Lords," cried he, "whatever says the maiden, I +boast before you all that on St. John's Eve I will ride +alone to the Ford of the Thorn, and dare this adventure, +whether it bring me gain or whether it bring me loss."</p> + +<p>The King was right heavy to hear these words. He +thought them to be the gab and idle speech of a boy.</p> + +<p>"Fair son," said he, "put this folly from your mind."</p> + +<p>But when the King was persuaded that whether it +were foolishness or wisdom the lad was determined to +go his way, and abide the issue of the adventure,</p> + +<p>"Go swiftly," said he, "in the care of God. Since +risk your life you must, play it boldly like a pawn, and +may God grant you heart's desire and happy hours."</p> + +<p>The self-same night, whilst the lad lay sleeping in +his bed, that fair lady, his friend, was in much unrest +in hers. The tidings of her lover's boast had been carried +quickly to her chamber, and sorely was she adread for +what might chance. When the Eve of St. John was +come, and the day drew towards evening, the varlet, +with all fair hopes, made him ready to ride to the Ford +Adventurous. He had clad himself from basnet to +shoes in steel, and mounted on a strong destrier, went +his road to essay the Passage of the Thorn. Whilst he +took his path the maiden took hers. She went furtively +to the orchard, that she might importune God to bring +her friend again, safe and sound to his own house. She +seated herself on the roots of a tree, and with sighs and +tears lamented her piteous case.</p> + +<p>"Father of Heaven," said the girl, "Who was and +ever shall be, be pitiful to my prayer. Since it is not +to Thy will that any man should be wretched, be +merciful to a most unhappy maid. Fair Sire, give back +the days that are gone, when my friend was at my side, +and grant that once again I may be with him. Lord +God of Hosts, when shall I be healed? None knows the +bitterness of my sorrow, for none may taste thereof, +save such as set their heart on what they may not have. +These only, Lord, know the wormwood and the gall."</p> + +<p>Thus prayed the maiden, seated on the roots of that +ancient tree, her feet upon the tender grass. At the time +of her orisons much was she sought and inquired after +in the palace, but none might find where she had hidden. +The damsel herself was given over altogether to her love +and her sorrow, and had no thought for anything, save +for prayers and tears. The night wore through, and +dawn already laced the sky, when she fell on a little +slumber, in the tree where she was sheltered. She woke +with a start, but returned to her sleep more deeply +than before. She had not slept long, when herseemed +she was ravished from the tree—but I cannot make +this plain for I know no wizardry—to that Ford of the +Thorn, where her friend and lover had repaired. The +knight looked upon the sleeping maiden, and marvelled +at so fair a sight. All adread was the lady when she +came from her slumber, for she knew not where she +lay, and wondered greatly. She covered her head by +reason of her exceeding fear, but the knight consoled +her courteously.</p> + +<p>"Diva," said he, "there is no reason for terror. If +you are an earthly woman, speaking with a mortal +tongue, tell me your story. Tell me in what guise and +manner you came so suddenly to this secret place."</p> + +<p>The maiden began to be of more courage, till she +remembered that she was no longer in the orchard of +the castle. She inquired of the knight to what haunt +she had come.</p> + +<p>"Lady," he made answer, "you are laid at the Ford +of the Thorn, where adventures chance to the seeker, +sometimes greatly against the mind, and sometimes +altogether according to the heart."</p> + +<p>"Ah, dear God," cried the lady, "now shall I be made +whole. Sir, look a little closer upon me, for I have been +your friend. Thanks be to God, who so soon has heard +my prayer."</p> + +<p>This was the beginning of adventures which happened +that night to the seeker. The maiden hastened to +embrace her lover. He got him nimbly from his horse, +and taking her softly between his arms, kissed her with +more kisses than I can tell. Then they sat together +beneath the thorn, and the damsel told how she fell +asleep within that old tree in the pleasaunce, of how +she was rapt from thence in her slumber, and of how, +yet sleeping, he came upon her by the Ford. When the +knight had hearkened to all that she had to say, he +looked from her face, and glancing across the river, +marked a lord, with lifted lance, riding to the ford. +This knight wore harness of a fair vermeil colour, and +bestrode a horse white of body, save for his two ears, +which were red as the rider's mail. Slender of girdle +was this knight, and he made no effort to enter the river, +but drew rein upon the other side of the passage, +and watched. The varlet said to his friend that it became +his honour to essay some feats of arms with this adversary. +He got to horse, and rode to the river, leaving +the maiden beneath the thorn. Had she but found +another horse at need, very surely would she have ridden +to his aid. The two knights drew together as swiftly +as their steeds could bear them. They thrust so shrewdly +with the lance, that their shields were split and broken. +The spears splintered in the gauntlet, and both champions +were unhorsed by the shock, rolling on the sand; +but nothing worse happened to them. Since they had +neither squire nor companion to help them on their +feet, they pained them grievously to get them from the +ground. When they might climb upon their steeds, +they hung again the buckler about the neck, and lowered +their ashen spears. Passing heavy was the varlet, for +shame that his friend had seen him thrown. The two +champions met together in the onset, but the prince +struck his adversary so cunningly with the lance, that +the laces of his buckler were broken, and the shield +fell from his body. When the varlet saw this he rejoiced +greatly, for he knew that the eyes of his friend were upon +him. He pressed his quarrel right fiercely, and tumbling +his foe from the saddle, seized his horse by the bridle.<a name="FNanchor2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2"><sup>[2]</sup></a></p> + +<p>The two knights passed the ford, and the prince +feared sorely because of the skill and mightiness of his +adversary. He could not doubt that if they fell upon +him together he would perish at their hands. He put +the thought from mind, for he would not suspect them +of conduct so unbecoming to gentle knight, and so +contrary to the laws of chivalry. If they desired some +passage of arms, doubtless they would joust as gentlemen, +and each for himself alone. When these three knights +were mounted on their steeds, they crossed the ford +with courtesy and order, each seeking to give precedence +to his companion. Having come to the bank +the stranger knights prayed the prince to run a course +for their pleasure. He answered that it was his wish, +too, and made him ready for the battle. The prince +rejoiced greatly when he saw one of these two adversaries +ride a little apart, that he might the more easily observe +the combat. He was assured that he would suffer no +felony at their hands. For their part the two knights +were persuaded that they had to do with an errant who +had ridden to the ford for no other gain than honour +and praise. The two adversaries took their places +within the lists. They lowered their lance, and covering +their bodies with the shield, smote fiercely together. +So rude was the shock that the staves of the spears +were broken, and the strong destriers were thrown upon +their haunches. Neither of the good knights had lost +his saddle. Each of the combatants got him to his feet, +and drawing the sword, pressed upon his fellow, till the +blood began to flow. When the knight who judged this +quarrel saw their prowess, he came near, and commanded +that the battle should cease. The adversaries drew apart, +and struck no further blow with the sword. Right +courteously and with fair words he spake to the prince. +"Friend," said the knight, "get to your horse, and +break a lance with me. Then we can go in peace, for +our time grows short. You must endure till the light be +come if you hope to gain the prize. Do your devoir, +valiantly, for should you chance to be thrown in this +course, or slain by misadventure, you have lost your +desire. None will ever hear of this adventure; all +your life you will remain little and obscure. Your maiden +will be led away by the victor, seated on the good +Castilian horse you have gained by right of courage. +Fight bravely. The trappings of the destrier are worth +the spoil of a king's castle, and as for the horse himself +he is the swiftest and the fairest in the world. Be not +amazed that I tell you of these matters. I have watched +you joust, and know you for a hardy knight and a +gallant gentleman. Besides I stand to lose horse and +harness equally with you."</p> + +<p><a name="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor2">[2]</a><div class=note> There is here some omission in the manuscript.</div><br> + +<p>The prince listened to these words, and accorded that +the knight spoke wisely and well. He would willingly +have taken counsel of the maiden, but first, as surely +he knew, he must joust with this knight. He gathered +the reins in his glove, and choosing a lance with an +ashen staff, opposed himself to his adversary. The +combatants met together so fiercely that the lance +pierced the steel of the buckler; yet neither lost stirrup +by the shock. When the prince saw this he smote the +knight so shrewdly that he would have fallen from the +saddle, had he not clung to the neck of his destrier. +Of his courtesy the prince passed on, and refrained his +hand until his enemy had recovered his seat. On his +return he found the knight full ready to continue his +devoir. Each of the champions plucked forth his sword, +and sheltered him beneath his shield. They struck +such mighty blows that the bucklers were hewn in pieces, +but in spite of all they remained firm in the saddle. +The maiden was aghast whilst she watched the melée. +She had great fear for her friend, lest mischief should +befall him, and she cried loudly to the knight that, for +grace, he should give over this combat, and go his way. +Very courteous was the knight, and meetly schooled +in what was due to maidens. He saluted the damsel, +and, together with his companion, rode straightway +from the ford. The prince watched them pass for +a little, then without further tarrying he went swiftly +to the maiden, where, all fearful and trembling, she +knelt beneath the thorn. The lady stood upon her feet +as her lover drew near. She climbed behind him on +the saddle, for well she knew that their pains were +done. They fared so fast that when it was yet scarce +day they came again to the palace. The King saw them +approach, and rejoiced greatly at his son's prowess; +but at this he marvelled much, that he should return +with the daughter of the Queen.</p> + +<p>The self-same day of this homecoming—as I have +heard tell—the King had summoned to Court his barons +and vassals because of a certain quarrel betwixt two of +his lords. This quarrel being accorded between them, +and come to a fair end, the King related to that blithe +company the story of this adventure. He told again +that which you know, of how the prince defended the +Ford, of the finding of the maiden beneath the thorn, +of the mighty joust, and of that white horse which was +taken from the adversary.</p> + +<p>The prince both then and thereafter caused the horse +to be entreated with the greatest care. He received the +maiden to wife, and cherished her right tenderly. She, +and the steed on which she would always ride, were his +richest possessions. The destrier lived many years in +much honour, but on a day when his master was taking +the harness from his head, he fell and died forthwith.</p> + +<p>Of the story which has been set before you the Bretons +wrought a Lay. They did not call the song the Lay of +the Ford, although the adventure took place at a river; +neither have they named it The Lay of the Two Children. +For good or ill the rhyme is known as the Lay of the +Thorn. It begins well and endeth better, for these +kisses find their fruition in marriage.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XV"></a><h2>XV</h2> + +<p>THE LAY OF GRAELENT</p> +<br> + +<p>Now will I tell you the adventure of Graelent, even as +it was told to me, for the Lay is sweet to hear, and the +tune thereof lovely to bear in mind.</p> + +<p>Graelent was born in Brittany of a gentle and noble +house, very comely of person and very frank of heart. +The King who held Brittany in that day, made mortal +war upon his neighbours, and commanded his vassals +to take arms in his quarrel. Amongst these came +Graelent, whom the King welcomed gladly, and since +he was a wise and hardy knight greatly was he honoured +and cherished by the Court. So Graelent strove +valiantly at tourney and at joust, and pained himself +mightily to do the enemy all the mischief that he was +able. The Queen heard tell the prowess of her knight, +and loved him in her heart for reason of his feats of +arms and of the good men spoke of him. So she called +her chamberlain apart, and said, +"Tell me truly, hast thou not often heard speak of +that fair knight, Sir Graelent, whose praise is in all +men's mouths?"</p> + +<p>"Lady," answered the chamberlain, "I know him +for a courteous gentleman, well spoken of by all."</p> + +<p>"I would he were my friend," replied the lady, "for +I am in much unrest because of him. Go thou, and +bid him come to me, so he would be worthy of my love." +"Passing gracious and rich is your gift, lady, and +doubtless he will receive it with marvellous joy. Why, +from here to Troy there is no priest even, however holy, +who in looking on your face would not lose Heaven in +your eyes."</p> + +<p>Thereupon the chamberlain took leave of the Queen, +and seeking Graelent within his lodging saluted him +courteously, and gave him the message, praying him to +come without delay to the palace.</p> + +<p>"Go before, fair friend," answered the knight, "for +I will follow you at once."</p> + +<p>So when the chamberlain was gone Graelent caused +his grey horse to be saddled, and mounting thereon, rode +to the castle, attended by his squire. He descended +without the hall, and passing before the King entered +within the Queen's chamber. When the lady saw him +she embraced him closely, and cherished and honoured +him sweetly. Then she made the knight to be seated +on a fair carpet, and to his face praised him for his +exceeding comeliness. But he answered her very +simply and courteously, saying nothing but what was +seemly to be said. Then the Queen kept silence for a +great while, considering whether she should require him +to love her for the love of love; but at the last, made +bold by passion, she asked if his heart was set on any +maid or dame.</p> + +<p>"Lady," said he, "I love no woman, for love is a +serious business, not a jest. Out of five hundred who +speak glibly of love, not one can spell the first letter +of his name. With such it is idleness, or fulness of bread, +or fancy, masking in the guise of love. Love requires of +his servants chastity in thought, in word and in deed. +If one of two lovers is loyal, and the other jealous and +false, how may their friendship last, for Love is slain! +But sweetly and discreetly love passes from person to +person, from heart to heart, or it is nothing worth. +For what the lover would, that would the beloved; +what she would ask of him that should he go before to +grant. Without accord such as this, love is but a bond +and a constraint. For above all things Love means +sweetness, and truth, and measure; yea, loyalty to the +loved one and to your word. And because of this I dare +not meddle with so high a matter."</p> + +<p>The Queen heard Graelent gladly, finding him so +tripping of tongue, and since his words were wise and +courteous, at the end she discovered to him her heart.</p> + +<p>"Friend, Sir Graelent, though I am a wife, yet have +I never loved my lord. But I love you very dearly, +and what I have asked of you will you not go before +to grant?"</p> + +<p>"Lady," said he, "give me pity and forgiveness, +but this may not be. I am the vassal of the King, and +on my knees have pledged him loyalty and faith, and +sworn to defend his life and honour. Never shall he +have shame because of me."</p> + +<p>With these words Sir Graelent took his leave of the +Queen, and went his way.</p> + +<p>Seeing him go in this fashion the Queen commenced +to sigh. She was grieved in her heart, and knew not +what to do. But whatever chanced she would not +renounce her passion, so often she required his love by +means of soft messages and costly gifts, but he refused +them all. Then the Queen turned from love to hate, +and the greatness of her passion became the measure +of her wrath, for very evilly she spoke of Graelent to the +King. So long as the war endured Graelent remained +in that realm. He spent all that he had upon his company, +for the King grudged wages to his men. The +Queen persuaded the King to this, counselling him that +by withholding the pay of the sergeants, Graelent +might in no wise flee the country, nor take service +with another lord. So at the end Graelent was wonderfully +downcast, nor was it strange that he was sad, +for there remained nothing which he might pledge, +but one poor steed, and when this was gone, no horse +had he to carry him from the country.</p> + +<p>It was now the month of May, when the hours are +long and warm. The burgess, with whom Graelent +lodged, had risen early in the morning, and with his +wife had gone to eat with neighbours in the town. +No one was in the house except Graelent, no squire, +nor archer, nor servant, save only the daughter of his +host, a very courteous maid. When the hour for dinner +was come she prayed the knight that they might sit +at board together. But he had no heart for mirth, and +seeking out his squire bade him bridle and saddle his +horse, for he had no care to eat.</p> + +<p>"I have no saddle," replied the squire.</p> + +<p>"Friend," said the demoiselle, "I will lend you +bridle and saddle as well."</p> + +<p>So when the harness was done upon him, Graelent +mounted his horse, and went his way through the town, +clad in a cloak of sorry fur, which he had worn overlong +already. The townsfolk in the street turned and stared +upon him, making a jest of his poverty, but of their +jibes he took no heed, for such act but after their kind, +and seldom show kindliness or courtesy.</p> + +<p>Now without the town there spread a great forest, +thick with trees, and through the forest ran a river. +Towards this forest Graelent rode, deep in heavy thought, +and very dolent. Having ridden for a little space +beneath the trees, he spied within a leafy thicket a fair +white hart, whiter even than snow on winter branches. +The hart fled before him, and Graelent followed so +closely in her track that man and deer presently came +together to a grassy lawn, in the midst of which sprang +a fountain of clear, sweet water. Now in this fountain +a demoiselle disported herself for her delight. Her +raiment was set on a bush near by, and her two maidens +stood on the bank busied in their lady's service. Graelent +forgot the chase at so sweet a sight, since never in his +life had he seen so lovely a dame. For the lady was +slender in shape and white, very gracious and dainty +of colour, with laughing eyes and an open brow, certainly +the most beautiful thing in all the world. Graelent +dared not draw nigh the fountain for fear of troubling +the dame, so he came softly to the bush to set hands +upon her raiment. The two maidens marked his +approach, and at their fright the lady turned, and calling +him by name, cried with great anger,</p> + +<p>"Graelent, put my raiment down, for it will profit +you little even if you carry it away, and leave me naked +in this wood. But if you are indeed too greedy of gain +to remember your knighthood, at least return me my +shift, and content yourself with my mantle, since it +will bring you money, as it is very good."</p> + +<p>"I am not a merchant's son," answered Graelent +merrily, "nor am I a huckster to sell mantles in a booth. +If your cloak were worth the spoil of three castles I +would not now carry it from the bush. Come forth +from your bathing, fair friend, and clothe yourself in +your vesture, for you have to say a certain word to +me."</p> + +<p>"I will not trust myself to your hand, for you might +seize upon me," answered the lady, "and I tell you +frankly that I put no faith in your word, nor have had +any dealings with your school."</p> + +<p>Then Graelent answered still more merrily, +"Lady, needs must I suffer your wrath. But at +least I will guard your raiment till you come forth +from the well and, fairest, very dainty is your body in +my eyes."</p> + +<p>When the lady knew that Graelent would not depart, +nor render again her raiment, then she demanded surety +that he would do her no hurt. This thing was accorded +between them, so she came forth from the fountain, +and did her vesture upon her. Then Graelent took her +gently by the left hand, and prayed and required of her +that she would grant him love for love. But the lady +answered, +"I marvel greatly that you should dare to speak to +me in this fashion, for I have little reason to think you +discreet. You are bold, sir knight, and overbold, to +seek to ally yourself with a woman of my lineage."</p> + +<p>Sir Graelent was not abashed by the dame's proud +spirit, but wooed and prayed her gently and sweetly, +promising that if she granted him her love he would +serve her in all loyalty, and never depart therefrom all +the days of his life. The demoiselle hearkened to the +words of Graelent, and saw plainly that he was a valiant +knight, courteous and wise. She thought within herself +that should she send him from her, never might she +find again so sure a friend. Since, then, she knew him +worthy of her love, she kissed him softly, and spoke to +him in this manner, +"Graelent, I will love you none the less truly, though +we have not met until this day. But one thing is needful +that our love may endure. Never must you speak a +word by which this hidden thing may become known. +I will furnish you with deniers in your purse, with cloth +of silk, with silver and with gold. Night and day will +I stay with you, and great shall be the love between us +twain. You shall see me riding at your side; you may +talk and laugh with me at your pleasure, but I must +never be seen of your comrades, nor must they know +aught concerning your bride. Graelent, you are loyal, +brave, and courteous, and comely enough to the view. +For you I spread my snare at the fountain; for you +shall I suffer heavy pains, as well I knew before I set +forth on this adventure. Now must I trust to your +discretion, for if you speak vainly and boastfully of +this thing then am I undone. Remain now for a year +in this country, which shall be for you a home that your +lady loves well. But noon is past, and it is time for you +to go. Farewell, and a messenger shortly shall tell you +that which I would have you do."</p> + +<p>Graelent took leave of the lady, and she sweetly +clasped and kissed him farewell. He returned to his +lodging, dismounted from his steed, and entering within +a chamber, leaned from the casement, considering this +strange adventure. Looking towards the forest he saw +a varlet issue therefrom riding upon a palfrey. He drew +rein before Graelent's door, and taking his feet from the +stirrup, saluted the knight. So Graelent inquired +from whence he rode, and of his name and business.</p> + +<p>"Sir," answered he, "I am the messenger of your +lady. She sends you this destrier by my hand, and would +have me enter in your service, to pay your servitors their +wages and to take charge of your lodging."</p> + +<p>When Graelent heard this message he thought it +both good and fair. He kissed the varlet upon the +cheek, and accepting his gift, caused the destrier—which +was the noblest, the swiftest and the most speedy +under the sun—to be led to the stable. Then the varlet +carried his baggage to his master's chamber, and took +therefrom a large cushion and a rich coverlet which he +spread upon the couch. After this he drew thereout a +purse containing much gold and silver, and stout cloth +fitting for the knight's apparel. Then he sent for the +host, and paying him what was owing, called upon him +to witness that he was recompensed most largely for +the lodging. He bade him also to seek out such knights +as should pass through the town to refresh and solace +themselves in the company of his lord. The host was +a worthy man. He made ready a plenteous dinner, +and inquired through the town for such poor knights as +were in misease by reason of prison or of war. These he +brought to the hostelry of Sir Graelent, and comforted +them with instruments of music, and with all manner +of mirth. Amongst them sat Graelent at meat, gay and +debonair, and richly apparelled. Moreover, to these +poor knights and the harpers Graelent gave goodly +gifts, so that there was not a citizen in all the town +who did not hold him in great worship, and regard him +as his lord.</p> + +<p>From this moment Graelent lived greatly at his ease, +for not a cloud was in his sky. His lady came at will +and pleasure; all day long they laughed and played +together, and at night she lay softly at his side. What +truer happiness might he know than this? Often, +besides, he rode to such tournaments of the land as he +was able, and all men esteemed him for a stout and worthy +knight. Very pleasant were his days, and his love, and +if such things might last for ever he had nothing else +to ask of life.</p> + +<p>When a full year had passed by, the season drew to +the Feast of Pentecost. Now it was the custom of the +King to summon at that tide his barons and all who +held their fiefs of him to his Court for a rich banquet. +Amongst these lords was bidden Sir Graelent. After +men had eaten and drunk the whole day, and all were +merry, the King commanded the Queen to put off her +royal robes, and to stand forth upon the dais. Then he +boasted before the company,</p> + +<p>"Lord barons, how seems it to you? Beneath the +sky is there a lovelier Queen than mine, be she maid, +lady or demoiselle?"</p> + +<p>So all the lords made haste to praise the Queen, and +to cry and affirm that in all the world was neither maid +nor wife so dainty, fresh and fair. Not a single voice +but bragged of her beauty, save only that of Graelent. +He smiled at their folly, for his heart remembered his +friend, and he held in pity all those who so greatly +rejoiced in the Queen. So he sat with covered head, +and with face bent smiling to the board. The Queen +marked his discourtesy, and drew thereto the notice +of the King.</p> + +<p>"Sire, do you observe this dishonour! Not one of +these mighty lords but has praised the beauty of your +wife, save Graelent only, who makes a mock of her. +Always has he held me in envy and despite."</p> + +<p>The King commanded Graelent to his throne, and +in the hearing of all bade the knight to tell, on his faith +as vassal to his liege, for what reason he had hid his +face and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Sire," answered Graelent to the King, "Sire, +hearken to my words. In all the world no man of your +lineage does so shameful a deed as this. You make +your wife a show upon a stage. You force your lords +to praise her just with lies, saying that the sun does +not shine upon her peer. One man will tell the truth to +your face, and say that very easily can be found a fairer +dame than she."</p> + +<p>Right heavy was the King when he heard these words. +He conjured Graelent to tell him straightly if he knew +a daintier dame.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sire, and thirty times more gracious than the +Queen."</p> + +<p>The Queen was marvellously wrathful to hear this +thing, and prayed her husband of his grace to compel +the knight to bring that woman to the Court of whose +beauty he made so proud a boast.</p> + +<p>"Set us side by side, and let the choice be made +between us. Should she prove the fairer let him go in +peace; but if not, let justice be done on him for his +calumny and malice."</p> + +<p>So the King bade his guards to lay hands on Graelent, +swearing that between them never should be love nor +peace, nor should the knight issue forth from prison, +until he had brought before him her whose beauty he +had praised so much.</p> + +<p>Graelent was held a captive. He repented him of +his hasty words, and begged the King to grant him +respite. He feared to have lost his friend, and sweated +grievously with rage and mortification. But though +many of the King's house pitied him in his evil case, +the long days brought him no relief, until a full year +went by, and once again the King made a great banquet +to his barons and his lieges. Then was Graelent brought +to hall, and put to liberty on such terms that he would +return bringing with him her whose loveliness he had +praised before the King. Should she prove so desirable +and dear, as his boast, then all would be well, for he +had naught to fear. But if he returned without his +lady, then he must go to judgment, and his only hope +would be in the mercy of the King.</p> + +<p>Graelent mounted his good horse, and parted from +the Court sad and wrathful. He sought his lodging, +and inquired for his servant, but might not find him. +He called upon his friend, but the lady did not heed +his voice. Then Graelent gave way to despair, and +preferred death to life. He shut himself within his +chamber, crying upon his dear one for grace and mercy, +but from her he got neither speech nor comfort. So +seeing that his love had withdrawn herself from him +by reason of his grievous fault, he took no rest by night +or day, and held his life in utter despite. For a full year +he lived in this piteous case, so that it was marvellous +to those about him that he might endure his life.</p> + +<p>On the day appointed the sureties brought Graelent +where the King was set in hall with his lords. Then the +King inquired of Graelent where was now his friend.</p> + +<p>"Sire," answered the knight, "she is not here, for +in no wise might I find her. Now do with me according +to your will."</p> + +<p>"Sir Graelent," said the King, "very foully have +you spoken. You have slandered the Queen, and given +all my lords the lie. When you go from my hands +never will you do more mischief with your tongue."</p> + +<p>Then the King spoke with a high voice to his barons.</p> + +<p>"Lords, I pray and command you to give judgment +in this matter. You heard the blame that Graelent set +upon me before all my Court. You know the deep +dishonour that he fastened on the Queen. How may +such a disloyal vassal deal honestly with his lord, for +as the proverb tells, 'Hope not for friendship from the +man who beats your dog!'"</p> + +<p>The lords of the King's household went out from before +him, and gathered themselves together to consider +their judgment. They kept silence for a great space, +for it was grievous to them to deal harshly with so +valiant a knight. Whilst they thus refrained from words +a certain page hastened unto them, and prayed them not +to press the matter, for (said he) "even now two young +maidens, the freshest maids in all the realm, seek the +Court. Perchance they bring succour to the good +knight, and, so it be the will of God, may deliver him +from peril." So the lords waited right gladly, and +presently they saw two damsels come riding to the +palace. Very young were these maidens, very slender +and gracious, and daintily cloaked in two fair mantles. +So when the pages had hastened to hold their stirrup +and bridle, the maidens dismounted from their palfreys +and entering within the hall came straight before the +King.</p> + +<p>"Sire," said one of the two damsels, "hearken now +to me. My lady commands us to pray you to put back +this cause for a while, nor to deliver judgment therein, +since she comes to plead with you for the deliverance +of this knight."</p> + +<p>When the Queen heard this message she was filled +with shame, and made speed to get her from the hall +Hardly had she gone than there entered two other +damsels, whiter and more sweetly flushed even than their +fellows. These bade the King to wait for a little, +since their mistress was now at hand. So all men stared +upon them, and praised their great beauty, saying that +if the maid was so fair, what then must be the loveliness +of the dame. When, therefore, the demoiselle came +in her turn, the King's household stood upon their feet +to give her greeting. Never did woman show so queenly +to men's sight as did this lady riding to the hall. Passing +sweet she was to see, passing simple and gracious of +manner, with softer eyes and a daintier face than girl +of mother born. The whole Court marvelled at her +beauty, for no spot or blemish might be found in her +body. She was richly dressed in a kirtle of vermeil silk, +broidered with gold, and her mantle was worth the spoil +of a king's castle. Her palfrey was of good race, and +speedy; the harness and trappings upon him were +worth a thousand livres in minted coin. All men pressed +about her, praising her face and person, her simplicity +and queenlihead. She came at slow pace before the +King, and dismounting from the palfrey, spoke very +courteously in this fashion.</p> + +<p>"Sire," said she, "hearken to me, and you, lord +barons, give heed to my pleading. You know the words +Graelent spake to the King, in the ears of men, when +the Queen made herself a show before the lords, saying +that often had he seen a fairer lady. Very hasty and +foolish was his tongue, since he provoked the King to +anger. But at least he told the truth when he said that +there is no dame so comely but that very easily may be +found one more sweet than she. Look now boldly upon +my face, and judge you rightly in this quarrel between +the Queen and me. So shall Sir Graelent be acquitted +of this blame."</p> + +<p>Then gazing upon her, all the King's household, lord +and lackey, prince and page, cried with one voice that +her favour was greater than that of the Queen. The +King himself gave judgment with his barons that this +thing was so; therefore Sir Graelent was acquitted of +his blame, and declared a free man.</p> + +<p>When judgment was given the lady took her leave of +the King, and attended by her four damsels departed +straightway from the hall upon her palfrey. Sir Graelent +caused his white horse to be saddled, and mounting, +followed hotly after her through the town. Day after +day he rode in her track, pleading for pity and pardon, +but she gave him neither good words nor bad in answer. +So far they fared that at last they came to the forest, +and taking their way through a deep wood rode to the +bank of a fair, clear stream. The lady set her palfrey +to the river, but when she saw that Graelent also would +enter therein she cried to him,</p> + +<p>"Stay, Graelent, the stream is deep, and it is death +for you to follow."</p> + +<p>Graelent took no heed to her words, but forced his +horse to enter the river, so that speedily the waters +closed above his head. Then the lady seized his bridle, +and with extreme toil brought horse and rider back +again to land.</p> + +<p>"Graelent," said she, "you may not pass this river, +however mightily you pain yourself, therefore must you +remain alone on this bank."</p> + +<p>Again the lady set her palfrey to the river, but Graelent +could not suffer to see her go upon her way alone. +Again he forced his horse to enter the water; but the +current was very swift and the stream was very deep, +so that presently Graelent was torn from his saddle, +and being borne away by the stream came very nigh to +drown. When the four maidens saw his piteous plight +they cried aloud to their lady, and said,</p> + +<p>"Lady, for the love of God, take pity on your poor +friend. See, how he drowns in this evil case. Alas, +cursed be the day you spake soft words in his ear, and +gave him the grace of your love. Lady, look how the +current hurries him to his death. How may your heart +suffer him to drown whom you have held so close! +Aid him, nor have the sin on your soul that you endured +to let the man who loved you die without your help."</p> + +<p>When the lady heard the complaint of her maidens, +no longer could she hide the pity she felt in her heart. +In all haste she turned her palfrey to the river, and +entering the stream clutched her lover by the belt. +Thus they won together to the bank. There she stripped +the drowned man of his raiment, and wrapping him +fast in her own dry mantle cherished him so meetly +that presently he came again to life. So she brought +him safely into her own land, and none has met Sir +Graelent since that day.</p> + +<p>But the Breton folk still hold firmly that Graelent +yet liveth with his friend. His destrier, when he escaped +him from the perilous river, grieved greatly for his +master's loss. He sought again the mighty forest, yet +never was at rest by night or day. No peace might he +find, but ever pawed he with his hoofs upon the ground, +and neighed so loudly that the noise went through all +the country round about. Many a man coveted so +noble a steed, and sought to put bit and bridle in his +mouth, yet never might one set hands upon him, for +he would not suffer another master. So each year in +its season the forest was filled with the cry and the trouble +of this noble horse which might not find its lord.</p> + +<p>This adventure of the good steed and of the stout +knight, who went to the land of faery with his love, was +noised abroad throughout all Brittany, and the Bretons +made a Lay thereof which was sung in the ears of many +people, and was called a Lay of the Death of Sir +Graelent.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XVI"></a><h2>XVI</h2> + +<p>A STORY OF BEYOND THE SEA</p> +<br> + +<p>In times gone by there lived a Count of Ponthieu, who +loved chivalry and the pleasures of the world beyond +measure, and moreover was a stout knight and a gallant +gentleman. In the self-same day there lived a Count +of St. Pol, who was lord of much land, and a right worthy +man. One grief he had, that there was no heir of his +body; but a sister was his, a prudent woman and a +passing good gentlewoman, who was dame of Dommare +in Ponthieu. This lady had a son, Thibault by name, +who was heir to this County of St. Pol, but he was a +poor man so long as his uncle lived. He was a prudent +knight, valiant and skilled with the spear, noble and +fair. Greatly was he loved and honoured of all honest +people, for he was of high race and gentle birth.</p> + +<p>The Count of Ponthieu, of whom the tale hath spoken, +had to wife a very worthy lady. He and his dame had +but one child, a daughter, very good and gracious, who +increased with her days in favour and in virtues; and +the maid was of some sixteen years. The third year after +her birth her mother died, whereof she was sorely +troubled and right heavy. The Count, her father, took +to himself another wife with no long tarrying, a dame +of gentle race and breeding. Of this lady he got him +quickly a son; very near was the boy to his father's +heart. The lad grew with his years in stature and in +valour, and gave promise to increase in all good qualities.</p> + +<p>The Count of Ponthieu marked my lord Thibault of +Dommare. He summoned the knight to his castle, +and made him of his house for guerdon. When Sir +Thibault was of his fellowship he rejoiced greatly, for +the Count prospered in goods and in praise by reason +of his servant's deeds. As they came from a tournament +on a day, the Count and my lord Thibault together, +the Count required of his companion and said,</p> + +<p>"Thibault, by the aid of God tell me truly which +jewel of my crown shines the fairest in your eyes!"</p> + +<p>"Sir," replied Messire Thibault, "I am only a beggar, +but so help me God, of all the jewels in your crown I +love and covet none, save only my demoiselle, your +daughter."</p> + +<p>When he heard this thing the Count had great content. +He laughed in his heart and said,</p> + +<p>"Thibault, I will grant her to the beggar, if it be to +her mind."</p> + +<p>"Sir," answered he, "thanks and gramercy. May +God make it up to you."</p> + +<p>Then went the Count to his daughter, and said,</p> + +<p>"Fair daughter, I have promised you in marriage, +so it go not against your heart."</p> + +<p>"Sir," inquired the maid, "to whom?"</p> + +<p>"In the name of God, to a loyal man, and a true +man, of whom much is hoped; to a knight of my own +household, Thibault of Dommare."</p> + +<p>"Dear sir," answered the maiden sweetly, "if your +county were a kingdom, and I were the king's only +child, I would choose him as my husband, and gladly +give him all that I had."</p> + +<p>"Daughter," said the Count, "blessed be your pretty +person, and the hour that you were born."</p> + +<p>Thus was this marriage made. The Count of Ponthieu +and the Count of St. Pol were at the feast, and many +another honourable man besides. Great was the joy +in which they met, fair was the worship, and marvellous +the delight. The bride and groom lived together in all +happiness for five years. This was their only sorrow, +that it pleased not our Lord Jesus Christ that they +should have an heir to their flesh.</p> + +<p>On a night Sir Thibault lay in his bed. He considered +within himself and said,</p> + +<p>"Lord, whence cometh it that I love this dame so +fondly, and she me, yet we may have no heir of our +bodies to serve God and to do a little good in the world?"</p> + +<p>Then he remembered my lord St. James, the Apostle +of Spain, who gives to the fervent supplicant that which +rightly he desires. Earnestly, to his own heart, he +promised that he would walk a pilgrim in his way. +His wife lay sleeping at his side, but when she came from +out her sleep, he took her softly in his arms, and required +of her that she would bestow on him a gift.</p> + +<p>"Sir," said the lady, "what gift would you +have?"</p> + +<p>"Wife," he made answer, "that you shall know when +it is mine."</p> + +<p>"Husband," said she, "if it be mine to grant, I will +give it you, whatever the price."</p> + +<p>"Wife," he said, "I pray you to grant me leave to +seek my lord St. James the Apostle, that he may intercede +with our Lord Jesus Christ to bestow on us an heir +of our flesh, whereby God may be served in this world +and Holy Church glorified."</p> + +<p>"Sir," cried the lady, "sweet and dear it is that you +should crave such bounty, and I grant the permission +you desire right willingly."</p> + +<p>Deep and long was the tenderness that fell betwixt +these twain. Thus passed a day, and another day, and +yet a third. On this third day it chanced that they lay +together in their bed, and it was night. Then said the +dame,</p> + +<p>"Husband, I pray and require of you a gift."</p> + +<p>"Wife," he replied, "ask, and I will give it you, if +by any means I can."</p> + +<p>"Husband," she said, "I require leave to come with +you on this errand and journey."</p> + +<p>When Messire Thibault heard this thing he was right +sorrowful, and said,</p> + +<p>"Wife, grievous would be the journey to your body, +for the way is very long, and the land right strange and +perilous."</p> + +<p>Said she,</p> + +<p>"Husband, be not in doubt because of me. You +shall be more hindered of your squire than of your wife."</p> + +<p>"Dame," said he, "as God wills and as you wish."</p> + +<p>The days went, and these tidings were so noised +abroad that the Count of Ponthieu heard thereof. He +commanded my lord Sir Thibault to his house, and said,</p> + +<p>"Thibault, you are a vowed pilgrim, as I hear, and +my daughter too!"</p> + +<p>"Sir," answered he, "that is verily and truly so."</p> + +<p>"Thibault," replied the Count, "as to yourself what +pleases you is to my mind also, but concerning my +daughter that is another matter."</p> + +<p>"Sir," made answer Sir Thibault, "go she must, and +I cannot deny her."</p> + +<p>"Since this is so," said the Count, "part when you +will. Make ready for the road your steeds, your palfreys, +and the pack horses, and I will give you riches and gear +enough for the journey."</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Messire Thibault, "thanks and gramercy."</p> + +<p>Thus these pilgrims arrayed them, and sought that +shrine with marvellous joy. They fared so speedily +upon the way, that at length they came near to my +lord St. James, by less than two days faring. That +night they drew to a goodly town. After they had eaten +in the hostel, Sir Thibault called for the host and inquired +of him the road for the morrow, how it ran, and whether +it were smooth.</p> + +<p>"Fair sir," replied the innkeeper to the knight, "at +the gate of this town you will find a little wood. Beyond +the wood a strong smooth road runs for the whole day's +journey."</p> + +<p>Hearing this they asked no more questions, but the +beds being laid down, they went to their rest. The +morrow broke full sweetly. The pilgrims rose lightly +from their beds as soon as it was day, and made much +stir and merriment. Sir Thibault rose also, since he +might not sleep, but his head was heavy. He therefore +called his chamberlain, and said,</p> + +<p>"Rise quickly, and bid the company to pack the +horses and go their way. Thou shalt remain with me, +and make ready our harness, for I am a little heavy +and disquieted."</p> + +<p>The chamberlain made known to the sergeants the +pleasure of their lord, so that presently they took the +road. In no great while Messire Thibault and his dame +got them from the bed, and arraying their persons, +followed after their household. The chamberlain folded +the bed linen, and it was yet but dawn, though warm +and fair. The three went forth through the gate of +the city, those three together, with no other companion +save God alone, and drew near to the forest. When they +came close they found two roads, the one good, the +other ill; so that Sir Thibault said to his chamberlain,</p> + +<p>"Put spurs to your horse, and ride swiftly after our +people. Bid them await our coming, for foul it is for +lady and knight to pass through this wood with so +little company."</p> + +<p>The servitor went speedily, and Messire Thibault +entered the forest. He drew rein beside the two roads, +for he knew not which to follow.</p> + +<p>"Wife," he said, "which way is ours?"</p> + +<p>"Please God, the good," she answered.</p> + +<p>Now in this wood were robbers, who spoiled the fair +way, and made wide and smooth the false, so that +pilgrims should mistake and wander from the path. +Messire Thibault lighted from his horse. He looked +from one to the other, and finding the wrong way +broader and more smooth than the true, he cried,</p> + +<p>"Wife, come now; in the name of God, this."</p> + +<p>They had proceeded along this road for some quarter +of a mile when the path grew strict and narrow, and +boughs made dark the way.</p> + +<p>"Wife," said the knight, "I fear that we fare but ill."</p> + +<p>When he had thus spoken he looked before him, +and marked four armed thieves, seated on four strong +horses, and each bore lance in hand. Thereupon he +glanced behind him, and, lo, four other robbers, armed +and set in ambush, so he said,</p> + +<p>"Dame, be not affrighted of aught that you may see +from now."</p> + +<p>Right courteously Sir Thibault saluted the robbers in +his path, but they gave no answer to his greeting. +Afterwards he sought of them what was in their mind, +and one replied that he should know anon. The thief, +who had thus spoken, drew towards my lord Thibault, +with outstretched sword, thinking to smite him in the +middle. Messire Thibault saw the blow about to fall, +and it was no marvel if he feared greatly. He sprang +forward nimbly, as best he might, so that the glaive +smote the air. Then as the robber staggered by, Sir +Thibault seized him fiercely, and wrested the sword from +his hand. The knight advanced stoutly against those +three from whom the thief had come. He struck the +foremost amidst the bowels, so that he perished miserably. +Then he turned and went again to that one who had +first come against him with the sword, and slew him also. +Now it was decreed of God that after the knight had +slain three of this company of robbers, that the five +who were left, encompassed him round about, and +killed his palfrey. Sir Thibault tumbled flat upon his +back, although he was not wounded to his hurt. Since +he had neither sword nor other harness he could do no +more. The thieves therefore stripped him to his very +shirt, his boots and hosen, and binding him hand and foot +with a baldrick, cast him into a thorn bush, right thick +and sharp. When they had done this they hastened to +the lady. From her they took her palfrey and her vesture, +even to the shift. Passing fair was the lady; she +wept full piteously, and never was dame more sorrowful +than she. Now one of these bold robbers stared upon +the lady, and saw that she was very fair. He spoke to +his companions in this fashion,</p> + +<p>"Comrades, I have lost my brother in this broil. I +will take this woman for his blood money."</p> + +<p>But the others made answer,</p> + +<p>"I, too, have lost my kin. I claim as much as you, +and my right is good as yours."</p> + +<p>So said a third, and a fourth, and a fifth. Then spake +yet another.</p> + +<p>"In keeping of the lady will be found neither peace +nor profit. Rather let us lead her from here within the +forest, there do our pleasure upon her, and then put her +again upon the path, so that she may go her way."</p> + +<p>Thus they did as they had devised together, and left +her on the road.</p> + +<p>Right sick at heart was Messire Thibault when he saw +her so entreated, but nothing could he do. He bore no +malice against his wife by reason of that which had +befallen, for well he knew that it, was by force, and not +according to her will. When he saw her again, weeping +bitterly and altogether shamed, he called to her, and +said,</p> + +<p>"Wife, for God's love unloose me from these bonds, and +deliver me from the torment that I suffer, for these +thorns are sharper than I can endure."</p> + +<p>The lady hastened to the place where Sir Thibault +lay, and marked a sword flung behind the bush, belonging +to one of those felons that were slain. She took +the glaive, and went towards her lord, filled full of +wrath and evil thoughts because of what had chanced +to her. She feared greatly lest her husband should +bear malice for that which he had seen, reproaching +her upon a day, and taunting her for what was past. +She said,</p> + +<p>"Sir, you are out of your pain already."</p> + +<p>She raised the sword, and came towards her husband, +thinking to strike him midmost the body. When he +marked the falling glaive he deemed that his day had +come, for he was a naked man, clad in nought but his +shirt and hosen. He trembled so sorely that his bonds +were loosed, and the lady struck so feebly that she +wounded him but little, severing that baldrick with +which his hands were made fast. Thereat the knight +brake the cords about his legs, and leaping upon his +feet, cried, +"Dame, by the grace of God it is not to-day that you +shall slay me with the sword."</p> + +<p>Then she made answer, +"Truly, sir, the sorer grief is mine."</p> + +<p>Sir Thibault took the sword, and set it again in the +sheath, afterwards he put his hand upon the lady's +shoulder, and brought her back by the path they had +fared. At the fringe of the woodland he found a large +part of his fellowship, who were come to meet him. When +these saw their lord and lady so spoiled and disarrayed +they inquired of them, +"Sir, who hath put you in this case?"</p> + +<p>He set them by, saying that they had fallen amongst +felons who had done them much mischief.</p> + +<p>Mightily the sergeants lamented; but presently they +fetched raiment from the packs, and arrayed them, for +enough they had and to spare. So they climbed into +the saddle, and continued their journey.</p> + +<p>They rode that day, nor for aught that had chanced +did Messire Thibault show sourer countenance to the +lady. At nightfall they came to a goodly town, and +there took shelter in an inn. Messire Thibault sought +of his host if there was any convent of nuns in those +parts where a lady might repose her. The host made +answer to him,</p> + +<p>"Sir, you are served to your wish. Just beyond the walls +is a right fair religious house, with many holy women."</p> + +<p>On the morrow Messire Thibault went to this house, and +heard Mass. Afterwards he spoke to the Abbess and her +chapter, praying that he might leave his lady in their +charge, until his return; and this they accorded very +willingly. Messire Thibault bestowed the lady in this +convent, with certain of his house to do her service, +and went his way to bring his pilgrimage to a fair end. +When he had knelt before the shrine, and honoured the +Saint, he came again to the convent and the lady. He +gave freely of his wealth to the house, and taking to +himself his wife, returned with her to their own land, in the +same joy and honour as he had brought her forth, save +only that they lay not together.</p> + +<p>Great was the gladness of the folk of that realm when +Sir Thibault returned to his home. The Count of +Ponthieu, the father of his wife was there, and there, too, +was his uncle the Count of St. Pol. Many worthy and +valiant gentlemen came for his welcome, and a fair company +of dames and maidens likewise honoured the lady. +That day the Count of Ponthieu sat at meat with my +lord Thibault, and ate from the same dish, the two +together. Then it happed that the Count spake to +him,</p> + +<p>"Thibault, fair son, he who journeys far hears many +a strange matter and sees many strange sights, which +are hidden from those who sit over the fire. Tell me +therefore, of your favour, something of all you have seen +and heard since you went from amongst us."</p> + +<p>Messire Thibault answered shortly that he knew no tale +worth the telling. The Count would take no denial, +but plagued him so sorely, begging him of his courtesy +to tell over some adventure, that at the last he was +overborne.</p> + +<p>"Sir, I will narrate a story, since talk I must; but +at least let it be in your private ear, if you please, and +not for the mirth of all."</p> + +<p>The Count replied that his pleasure was the same. +After meat, when men had eaten their fill, the Count +rose in his chair, and taking my lord Thibault by the +hand, entreated,</p> + +<p>"Tell me now, I pray, that which it pleases you to +tell, for there are few of the household left in hall."</p> + +<p>Then Messire Thibault began to relate that which +chanced to a knight and a dame, even as it has been +rehearsed before you in this tale; only he named not +the persons to whom this lot was appointed. The +Count, who was wise and sober of counsel, inquired +what the knight had done with the lady. Thibault +made answer that the knight had brought the lady +back by the way she went, with the same joy and +worship as he led her forth, save only that they slept +not together.</p> + +<p>"Thibault," said the Count, "your knight walked +another road than I had trod. By my faith in God and +my love for you, I had hanged this dame by her tresses +to a tree. The laces of her gown would suffice if I could +find no other cord."</p> + +<p>"Sir," said Messire Thibault, "you have but my +word. The truth can only be assured if the lady might +bear witness and testify with her own mouth."</p> + +<p>"Thibault," said the Count, "know you the name +of this knight?"</p> + +<p>"Sir," cried Messire Thibault, "I beg you again to +exempt me from naming the knight to whom this +sorrow befell. Know of a truth that his name will +bring no profit."</p> + +<p>"Thibault," said the Count, "it is my pleasure that +his name should not be hid."</p> + +<p>"Sir," answered Thibault, "tell I must, as you will +not acquit me; but I take you to witness that I speak +only under compulsion, since gladly I would have kept +silence, had this been your pleasure, for in the telling +there is neither worship nor honour."</p> + +<p>"Thibault," replied the Count, "without more words +I would know forthwith who was the knight to whom +this adventure chanced. By the faith that you owe +to your God and to me, I conjure you to tell me his +name, since it is in your mind."</p> + +<p>"Sir," replied Messire Thibault, "I will answer by +the faith I owe my God and you, since you lay this +charge upon me. Know well, and be persuaded, that +I am the knight on whom this sorrow lighted. Hold +it for truth that I was sorely troubled and sick of heart. +Be assured that never before have I spoken to any living +man about the business, and moreover that gladly +would I have held my peace, had such been your will."</p> + +<p>When the Count heard this adventure he was sore +astonied, and altogether cast down. He kept silence +for a great space, speaking never a word. At the last +he said, +"Thibault, was it indeed my child who did this +thing?"</p> + +<p>"Sir, it is verily and truly so."</p> + +<p>"Thibault," said the Count, "sweet shall be your +vengeance, since you have given her again to my hand."</p> + +<p>Because of his exceeding wrath the Count sent straightway +for his daughter, and demanded of her if those +things were true of which Messire Thibault had spoken. +She inquired of the accusation, and her father answered, +"That you would have slain him with the sword, +even as he has told me?"</p> + +<p>"Sir, of a surety."</p> + +<p>"And wherefore would you slay your husband?"</p> + +<p>"Sir, for reason that I am yet heavy that he is not +dead."</p> + +<p>When the Count heard the lady speak in this fashion, he +answered her nothing, but suffered in silence until the +guests had departed. After these were gone, the Count +came on a day to Rue-sur-Mer, and Messire Thibault +with him, and the Count's son. With them also went +the lady. Then the Count caused a ship to be got +ready, very stout and speedy, and he made the dame +to enter in the boat. He set also on the ship an untouched +barrel, very high and strong. These three lords climbed +into the nave, with no other company, save those sailors +who should labour at the oar. The Count commanded +the mariners to put the ship to sea, and all marvelled +greatly as to what he purposed, but there was none so +bold as to ask him any questions. When they had rowed +a great way from the land, the Count bade them to +strike the head from out the barrel. He took that dame, +his own child, who was so dainty and so fair, and thrust +her in the tun, whether she would or whether she would +not. This being done he caused the cask to be made +fast again with staves and wood, so that the water +might in no manner enter therein. Afterwards he +dragged the barrel to the edge of the deck, and with +his own hand cast it into the sea, saying,</p> + +<p>"I commend thee to the wind and waves."</p> + +<p>Passing heavy was Messire Thibault at this, and the +lady's brother also, and all who saw. They fell at the +Count's feet, praying him of his grace that she might +be delivered from the barrel. So hot was his wrath +that he would not grant their prayer, for aught that they +might do or say. They therefore left him to his rage, +and turning to the Heavenly Father, besought our +Lord Jesus Christ that of His most sweet pity He would +have mercy on her soul, and give her pardon for her +sins.</p> + +<p>The ship came again to land, leaving the lady in sore +peril and trouble, even as the tale has told you. But +our Lord Jesus Christ, who is Lord and Father of all, +and desireth not the death of a sinner, but rather that +he should turn from his wickedness and live—as each +day He showeth us openly by deed, by example and by +miracle—sent succour to this lady, even as you shall +hear. For a ship from Flanders, laden with merchandise, +marked this barrel drifting at the mercy of winds and +waters, before ever the Count and his companions were +come ashore. One of the merchants said to his comrades,</p> + +<p>"Friends, behold a barrel drifting in our course. +If we may reach it, perchance we may find it to our gain."</p> + +<p>This ship was wont to traffic with the Saracens in +their country, so the sailors rowed towards the barrel, +and partly by cunning and partly by strength, at the +last got it safely upon the deck. The merchants looked +long at the cask. They wondered greatly what it could +be, and wondering, they saw that the head of the barrel +was newly closed. They opened the cask, and found +therein a woman at the point of death, for air had failed +her. Her body was gross, her visage swollen, and the +eyes started horribly from her head. When she breathed +the fresh air and felt the wind blow upon her, she sighed +a little, so that the merchants standing by, spoke comfortably +to her, but she might not answer them a word. +In the end, heart and speech came again to her. She +spoke to the chapmen and the sailors who pressed about +her, and much she marvelled how she found herself +amongst them. When she perceived that she was with +merchants and Christian men she was the more easy, +and fervently she praised Jesus Christ in her heart, +thanking Him for the loving kindness which had kept +her from death. For this lady was altogether contrite +in heart, and earnestly desired to amend her life towards +God, repenting the trespass she had done to others, +and fearing the judgment that was rightly her due. +The merchants inquired of the lady whence she came, +and she told them the truth, saying that she was a +miserable wretch and a poor sinner, as they could see +for themselves. She related the cruel adventure which +had chanced to her, and prayed them to take pity on +a most unhappy lady, and they answered that mercy +they would show. So with meat and drink her former +beauty came to her again.</p> + +<p>Now this merchant ship fared so far that she came to +the land of the Paynims, and cast anchor in the port +of Aumarie. Galleys of these Saracens came to know +their business, and they answered that they were +traffickers in divers merchandise in many a realm. +They showed them also the safe conduct they carried +of princes and mighty lords that they might pass in +safety through their countries to buy and sell their +goods. The merchants got them to land in this port, +taking the lady with them. They sought counsel one +of the other to know what it were best to do with her. +One was for selling her as a slave, but his companion +proposed to give her as a sop to the rich Soudan of +Aumarie, that their business should be the less hindered. +To this they all agreed. They arrayed the lady freshly +in broidered raiment, and carried her before the Soudan, +who was a lusty young man. He accepted their gift, +receiving the lady with a right glad heart, for she was +passing fair. The Soudan inquired of them as to who +she was.</p> + +<p>"Sire," answered the merchants, "we know no more +than you, but marvellous was the fashion in which she +came to our hands."</p> + +<p>The gift was so greatly to the Soudan's mind that he +served the chapmen to the utmost of his power. He +loved the lady very tenderly, and entreated her in all +honour. He held and tended her so well, that her sweet +colour came again to her, and her beauty increased +beyond measure. The Soudan sought to know by those +who had the gift of tongues as to the lady's home and +race, but these she would not reveal to any. He was +the more thoughtful therefore, because he might see +that she was a dame of birth and lineage. He inquired +of her as to whether she were a Christian woman, promising +that if she would deny her faith, he would take her +as his wife, since he was yet unwed. The lady saw +clearly that it were better to be converted by love than +perforce; so she answered that her religion was to do +her master's pleasure. When she had renounced her +faith, and rejected the Christian law, the Soudan made +her his dame according to the use and wont of this +country of the Paynim. He held her very dear, cherishing +her in all honour, for his love waxed deeper as the days +wore on.</p> + +<p>In due time it was with this lady after the manner +of women, and she came to bed of a son. The Soudan +rejoiced greatly, being altogether merry and content. +The lady, for her part, lived in fair fellowship with the +folk of her husband's realm. Very courteous was she, +and very serviceable, so that presently she was instructed +in the Saracen tongue. In no long while after the birth +of her son she conceived of a maid, who in the years +that befell grew passing sweet and fair, and richly was +she nurtured as became the daughter of so high a prince. +Thus for two years and a half the lady dwelt with the +Paynim in much softness and delight.</p> + +<p>Now the story keeps silence as to the lady and the +Soudan, her husband, till later, as you may hear, and +returns to the Count of Ponthieu, the son of the Count, +and to my lord Thibault of Dommare, who were left +grieving for the dame who was flung into the sea, as +you have heard, nor knew aught of her tidings, but +deemed that she were rather dead than alive. Now +tells the story—and the truth bears witness to itself +and is its own confirmation—that the Count was in +Ponthieu, together with his son, and Messire Thibault. +Very heavy was the Count, for in no wise could he get +his daughter from his mind, and grievously he lamented +the wrong that he had done her. Messire Thibault +dared not take to himself another wife, because of the +anguish of his friend. The son of the Count might not +wed also; neither durst he to become knight, though +he was come to an age when such things are greatly to +a young man's mind.</p> + +<p>On a day the Count considered deeply the sin that he +had committed against his own flesh. He sought the +Archbishop of Rheims in confession, and opened out +his grief, telling in his ear the crime that he had wrought. +He determined to seek those holy fields beyond the sea, +and sewed the Cross upon his mantle. When Messire +Thibault knew that his lord, the Count, had taken the +Cross, he confessed him, and did likewise. And when +the Count's son was assured of the purpose of his sire +and of Messire Thibault, whom he loved dearly, he took +the Cross with them. Passing heavy was the Count to +mark the Sign upon his son's raiment.</p> + +<p>"Fair son, what is this you have done; for now the +land remains without a lord!"</p> + +<p>The son answered, and said, +"Father, I wear the Sign first and foremost for the +love of God; afterwards for the saving of my soul, and +by reason that I would serve and honour Him to the +utmost of my power, so long as I have life in my body."</p> + +<p>The Count put his realm in ward full wisely. He +used diligence in making all things ready, and bade +farewell to his friends. Messire Thibault and the son +of the Count ordered their business, and the three set +forth together, with a fair company. They came to +that holy land beyond the sea, safe of person and of +gear. There they made devout pilgrimage to every +place where they were persuaded it was meet to go, +and God might be served. When the Count had done +all that he was able, he deemed that there was yet one +thing to do. He gave himself and his fellowship to the +service of the Temple for one year; and at the end of +this term he purposed to seek his country and his home. +He sent to Acre, and made ready a ship against his +voyage. He took his leave of the Knights Templar, +and other lords of that land, and greatly they praised +him for the worship that he had brought them. When +the Count and his company were come to Acre they +entered in the ship, and departed from the haven with +a fair wind. But little was their solace. For when they +drew to the open sea a strong and horrible tempest +sprang suddenly upon them, so that the sailors knew +not where they went, and feared each hour that all +would be drowned. So piteous was their plight that, +with ropes, they bound themselves one to another, the +son to the father, the uncle to the nephew, according +as they stood. The Count, his son, and Messire Thibault +for their part, fastened themselves together, so that the +same end should chance to all. In no long time after +this was done they saw land, and inquired of the shipmen +whither they were come. The mariners answered +that this realm belonged to the Paynim, and was called +the Land of Aumarie. They asked of the Count,</p> + +<p>"Sire, what is your will that we do? If we seek the +shore, doubtless we shall be made captives, and fall +into the hands of the Saracen."</p> + +<p>The Count made answer, +"Not my will, but the will of Jesus Christ be done. +Let the ship go as He thinks best. We will commit our +bodies and our lives to His good keeping, for a fouler +and an uglier death we cannot die, than to perish in +this sea."</p> + +<p>They drove with the wind along the coast of Aumarie, +and the galleys and warships of the Saracens put out +to meet them. Be assured that this was no fair meeting, +for the Paynims took them and led them before the +Soudan, who was lord of that realm. There they gave +him the goods and the bodies of these Christians as a +gift. The Soudan sundered this fair fellowship, setting +them in many places and in divers prisons; but since +the Count, his son, and Messire Thibault were so securely +bound together, he commanded that they should be +cast into a dungeon by themselves, and fed upon the +bread of affliction and the water of affliction. So it +was done, even as he commanded. In this prison they +lay for a space, till such time as the Count's son fell +sick. His sickness was so grievous that the Count and +Messire Thibault feared greatly that this sorrow was to +death.</p> + +<p>Now it came to pass that the Soudan held high Court +because of the day of his birth, for such was the custom +of the Saracens. After they had well eaten, the Saracens +stood before the Soudan, and said,</p> + +<p>"Sire, we require of you our right."</p> + +<p>He inquired of what right they were speaking, and +they answered,</p> + +<p>"Sire, a Christian captive to set as a mark for our +arrows."</p> + +<p>When the Soudan heard this he gave no thought to +such a trifle, but made reply,</p> + +<p>"Get you to the prison, and take out that captive +who has the least of life in him."</p> + +<p>The Paynim hastened to the dungeon, and brought +forth the Count, bearded, unkempt and foredone. The +Soudan marked his melancholy case, so he said to them, +"This man has not long to live; take him hence, and +do your will on him."</p> + +<p>The wife of the Soudan, of whom you have heard, the +daughter of this very Count, was in the hall, when they +brought forth her father to slay him. Immediately that +her eyes fell upon him the blood in her veins turned to +water; not so much that she knew him as her sire, but +rather that Nature tugged at her heart strings. Then +spake the dame to the Soudan, +"Husband, I, too, am French, and would gladly +speak with this poor wretch ere he die, if so I may."</p> + +<p>"Wife," answered the Soudan, "truly, yes; it +pleases me well."</p> + +<p>The lady came to the Count. She took him apart, +and bidding the Saracens fall back, she inquired of +him whence he was.</p> + +<p>"Lady, I am from the kingdom of France, of a +county that men call Ponthieu."</p> + +<p>When the lady heard this her bowels were moved. +Earnestly she demanded his name and race.</p> + +<p>"Of a truth, lady, I have long forgotten my father's +house, for I have suffered such pain and anguish since +I departed, that I would rather die than live. But +this you may know, that I—even the man who speaks +to you—was once the Count of Ponthieu."</p> + +<p>The lady hearkened to this, but yet she made no sign. +She went from the Count, and coming to the Soudan, +said,</p> + +<p>"Husband, give me this captive as a gift, if such +be your pleasure. He knows chess and draughts and +many fair tales to bring solace to the hearer. He shall +play before you, and we will make our pastime of his +skill."</p> + +<p>"Wife," answered the Soudan, "I grant him to you +very willingly; do with him as you wish."</p> + +<p>The lady took the captive, and bestowed him in her +chamber. The gaolers sought another in his stead, and +brought forth my lord Thibault, the husband to the +dame. He came out in tatters, for he was clothed +rather in his long hair and great beard, than in raiment. +His body was lean and bony, and he seemed as one who +had endured pain and sorrow enough, and to spare. +When the lady saw him she said to the Soudan,</p> + +<p>"Husband, with this one also would I gladly speak, +if so I may."</p> + +<p>"Wife," answered the Soudan, "it pleases me well."</p> + +<p>The lady came to my lord Thibault, and inquired +of him whence he was.</p> + +<p>"Lady, I am of the realm of that ancient gentleman +who was taken from prison before me. I had his daughter +to wife, and am his knight."</p> + +<p>The lady knew well her lord, so she returned to the +Soudan, and said to him, +"Husband, great kindness will you show me, if you +give me this captive also."</p> + +<p>"Wife," said the Soudan, "I grant him to you very +willingly."</p> + +<p>She thanked him sweetly, and bestowed the gift in +her chamber, with the other.</p> + +<p>The archers hastened together, and drawing before +the Soudan said, +"Sire, you do us wrong, for the day is far spent."</p> + +<p>They went straight to the prison, and brought forth +the son of the Count, shagged and filthy, as one who +had not known of water for many a day. He was a +young man, so young that his beard had not come on +him, but for all his youth he was so thin and sick and +weak, that he scarce could stand upon his feet. When +the lady saw him she had compassion upon him. She +came to him asking whose son he was and of his home, +and he replied that he was son to that gentleman, who +was first brought out of the dungeon. She knew well +that this was her brother, but she made herself strange +unto him.</p> + +<p>"Husband," said she to the Soudan, "verily you will +shew kindness to your wife beyond measure if you +grant me this captive. He knows chess and draughts +and other delights passing fair to see and hear."</p> + +<p>And the Soudan made answer, +"Wife, by our holy law if they were a hundred I +would give them all to you gladly."</p> + +<p>The lady thanked him tenderly, and bestowed the +captive swiftly in her chamber. The Saracens went again +to the prison and fetched out another, but the lady +left him to his fate, when she looked upon his face. So +he won a martyr's crown, and our Lord Jesus Christ +received his soul. As for the dame, she hid herself from +the sight, for it gave her little joy, this slaying of the +Christian by the Paynims.</p> + +<p>The lady came to her chamber, and at her coming the +captives would have got them to their feet, but she +made signs that they should remain seated. Drawing +close she made gestures of friendship. The Count, who +was very shrewd, asked at this, +"Lady, when will they slay us?"</p> + +<p>She answered that their time had not yet come.</p> + +<p>"Lady," said he, "the sorer grief is ours, for we are +so anhungered, that for a little our souls would leave +our bodies."</p> + +<p>The lady went out, and bade meat to be made ready. +This she carried in, giving to each a little, and to each a +little drink. When they had eaten, they had yet greater +hunger than before. In this manner she fed them, +little by little, ten times a day, for she deemed that +should they eat to their desire, they would die of repletion. +For this reason she caused them to break their +fast temperately. Thus the good lady dealt with them +for the first seven days, and at nights, by her grace, +they lay softly at their ease. She did away with their +rags, and clad them in seemly apparel. When the week +was done she set before them meat and drink to their +heart's desire, so that their strength returned to them +again. They had chess and draughts, and played these +games to their great content. The Soudan was often +with them. He watched the play, and took pleasure +in their gladness. But the lady refrained, so that none +might conceive, either by speech or fashion, that he +had known her before.</p> + +<p>Now a short while after this matter of the captives, +the story tells that the Soudan had business enough of +his own, for a mighty Sultan laid waste his realm, and +sought to do him much mischief. To avenge his wrong +the Soudan commanded his vassals from every place, +and assembled a great host. When the lady knew this, +she entered the chamber where the captives lay, and +sitting amidst them lifted her hand, and said, +"Sirs, you have told me somewhat of your business; +now will I be assured whether you are true men or not. +You told me that in your own land you were once the +Count of Ponthieu, that this man was wedded to your +daughter, and that this other was your son. Know +that I am a Saracen, having the science of astrology; +so I tell you plainly that you were never so near to a +shameful death, as you are now, if you hide from me +the truth. What chanced to your daughter, the wife +of this knight?"</p> + +<p>"Lady," replied the Count, "I deem her to be dead."</p> + +<p>"How came she to her death?"</p> + +<p>"Certes, lady," said the Count, "because for once +she received her deserts."</p> + +<p>"Tell me of these deservings," said the dame.</p> + +<p>Then the Count began to tell, with tears, of how she +was wedded, but was yet a barren wife; how the good +knight vowed pilgrimage to my lord St. James in +Galicia, and how the lady prayed that she might go +with him, which prayer he granted willingly. He told +how they went their way with joy, till alone, in the deep +wood, they met with sturdy felons who set upon them. +The good knight might do nothing against so many, +for he was a naked man; but despite of all, he slew three, +and five were left, who killed his palfrey, and spoiling +him to the very shirt, bound him hands and feet, and +flung him into a thorn bush. They spoiled the lady also +and stole her palfrey from her. When they looked upon +her, and saw that she was fair, each would have taken +her. Afterwards they accorded that she should be to +all, and having had their will in her despite, they departed +and left her weeping bitterly. This the good knight saw, +so he besought her courteously to unloose his hands, +that they might get them from the wood. But the lady +marked a sword belonging to one of these felons that +were slain. She handselled it, and hastening where he +lay, cried in furious fashion, "You are unbound already." +Then she raised the naked sword, and struck at his +body. But by the loving kindness of God, and the +vigour of the knight, she but sundered the bonds that +bound him, so that he sprang forth, and wounded as +he was, cried, +"Dame, by the grace of God it is not to-day that you +shall kill me with the sword."</p> + +<p>At this word that fair lady, the wife of the Soudan, +spoke suddenly, and said,</p> + +<p>"Ah, sir, you have told the tale honestly, and very +clear it is why she would have slain him."</p> + +<p>"For what reason, lady?"</p> + +<p>"Certes," answered she, "for reason of the great +shame which had befallen her."</p> + +<p>When Messire Thibault heard this he wept right +tenderly, and said, +"Alas, what part had she in this wickedness! May +God keep shut the doors of my prison if I had shown +her the sourer face therefore, seeing that her will was not +in the deed."</p> + +<p>"Sir," said the lady, "she feared your reproach. +But tell me which is the more likely, that she be alive +or dead?"</p> + +<p>"Lady," said Thibault, "we know not what to think."</p> + +<p>"Well I know," cried the Count, "of the great +anguish we have suffered, by reason of the sin I sinned +against her."</p> + +<p>"If it pleased God that she were yet living," inquired +the lady, "and tidings were brought which you could +not doubt, what would you have to say?"</p> + +<p>"Lady," said the Count, "I should be happier than +if I were taken from this prison, or were granted more +wealth than ever I have had in my life."</p> + +<p>"Lady," said Messire Thibault, "so God give me no +joy of my heart's dearest wish, if I had not more solace +than if men crowned me King of France."</p> + +<p>"Certes, lady," said the dansellon, who was her +brother, "none could give or promise me aught so +sweet, as the life of that sister, who was so fair and +good."</p> + +<p>When the lady hearkened to these words her heart +yearned with tenderness. She praised God, rendering +Him thanks, and said to them, +"Be sure that you speak with unfeigned lips."</p> + +<p>And they answered and said that they spoke with +unfeigned lips. Then the lady began to weep with happy +tears, and said to them, +"Sir, now may you truly say that you are my father, +for I am that daughter on whom you wrought such +bitter justice. And you, Messire Thibault, are my lord +and husband; and you, sir dansellon, are my brother."</p> + +<p>Then she rehearsed to them in what manner she was +found of the chapmen, and how they bestowed her as +a gift on the Soudan. They were very glad, and rejoiced +mightily, humbling themselves before her, but she +forbade them to show their mirth, saying, +"I am a Saracen, and have renounced the faith; +otherwise I should not be here, but were dead already. +Therefore I pray and beseech you as you love your lives +and would prolong your days, whatever you may see or +hear, not to show me any affection, but keep yourselves +strange to me, and leave me to unravel the coil. Now +I will tell why I have revealed myself to you. My +husband, the Soudan, rides presently to battle. I +know well, Messire Thibault, that you are a hardy +knight, and I will pray the Soudan to take you with +him. If ever you were brave, now is the time to make +it plain. See to it that you do him such service that he +have no grievance against you."</p> + +<p>The lady departed forthwith, and coming before the +Soudan, said, +"Husband, one of my captives desires greatly to go +with you, if such be your pleasure."</p> + +<p>"Wife," answered he, "I dare not put myself in his +hand, for fear that he may do me a mischief."</p> + +<p>"Husband, he will not dare to be false, since I hold +his companions as hostages."</p> + +<p>"Wife," said he, "I will take him with me, because +of your counsel, and I will deliver him a good horse and +harness, and all that warrior may require."</p> + +<p>The lady returned straightway to the chamber. She +said to Messire Thibault, +"I have persuaded the Soudan to bring you to the +battle. Act therefore manfully."</p> + +<p>At this her brother knelt at her knee, praying her to +plead with the Soudan that he might go also.</p> + +<p>"That I may not do," said she, "or the thing will +be too clear."</p> + +<p>The Soudan ordered his business, and went forth, +Messire Thibault being with him, and came upon the +enemy. According to his word, the Soudan had given +to the knight both horse and harness. By the will of +Jesus Christ, who faileth never such as have faith and +affiance in Him, Messire Thibault did such things in +arms that in a short space the enemies of the Soudan +were put under his feet. The Soudan rejoiced greatly +at his knight's deeds and his victory, and returned +bringing many captives with him. He went straight +to the dame, and said, +"Wife, by my law I have naught but good to tell +of your prisoner, for he has done me faithful service. +So he deny his faith, and receive our holy religion, I +will grant him broad lands, and find him a rich heiress +in marriage."</p> + +<p>"Husband, I know not, but I doubt if he will do this +thing."</p> + +<p>No more was spoken of the matter; but the lady set +her house in order, as best she was able, and coming +to her captives said, +"Sirs, go warily, so that the Saracens see nothing +of what is in our mind; for, please God, we shall yet +win to France and the county of Ponthieu."</p> + +<p>On a day the lady came before the Soudan. She +went in torment, and lamented very grievously.</p> + +<p>"Husband, it is with me as it was before. Well I +know it, for I have fallen into sore sickness, and my food +has no relish in my mouth, no, not since you went to +the battle."</p> + +<p>"Wife, I am right glad to hear that you are with +child, although your infirmity is very grievous unto +me. Consider and tell me those things that you deem will +be to your healing, and I will seek and procure them +whatever the cost."</p> + +<p>When the lady heard this, her heart beat lightly in +her breast. She showed no semblance of joy, save this +only, that she said, +"Husband, my old captive tells me that unless I +breathe for awhile such air as that of my native land, +and that quickly, I am but dead, for in nowise have I +long to live."</p> + +<p>"Wife," said the Soudan, "your death shall not be +on my conscience. Consider and show me where you +would go, and there I will cause you to be taken."</p> + +<p>"Husband, it is all one to me, so I be out of this +city."</p> + +<p>Then the Soudan made ready a ship, both fair and +strong, and garnished her plenteously with wines and +meats.</p> + +<p>"Husband," said the lady to the Soudan, "I will +take of my captives the aged and the young, that they +may play chess and draughts at my bidding, and I will +carry with me my son for my delight."</p> + +<p>"Wife," answered he, "your will is my pleasure. +But what shall be done with the third captive?"</p> + +<p>"Husband, deal with him after your desire."</p> + +<p>"Wife, I desire that you take him on the ship; for +he is a brave man, and will keep you well, both on +land and sea, if you have need of his sword."</p> + +<p>The lady took leave of the Soudan, bidding him farewell, +and urgently he prayed her to return so soon as +she was healed of her sickness. The stores being put +upon the ship and all things made ready, they entered +therein and set sail from the haven. With a fair +wind they went very swiftly, so that the shipmen +sought the lady, saying, +"Madam, this wind is driving the boat to Brindisi. +Is it your pleasure to take refuge there, or to go elsewhere?"</p> + +<p>"Let the ship keep boldly on her course," answered +the lady to them, "for I speak French featly and other +tongues also, so I will bring you to a good end."</p> + +<p>They made such swift passage by day and by night, +that according to the will of Our Lord they came quickly +to Brindisi. The ship cast anchor safely in the harbour, +and they lighted on the shore, being welcomed gladly +by the folk of that country. The lady, who was very +shrewd, drew her captives apart, and said, +"Sirs, I desire you to call to mind the pledge and +the covenant you have made. I must now be certain +that you are true men, remembering your oaths and +plighted words. I pray you to let me know, by all +that you deem of God, whether you will abide or not +by our covenant together; for it is yet not too late to +return to my home."</p> + +<p>They answered, +"Lady, know beyond question that the bargain we +have made we will carry out loyally. By our faith in +God and as christened men we will abide by this covenant; +so be in no doubt of our assurance."</p> + +<p>"I trust you wholly," replied the lady; "but, sirs, +see here my son, whom I had of the Soudan, what shall +we do with him?"</p> + +<p>"Lady, the boy is right welcome, and to great honour +shall he come in our own land."</p> + +<p>"Sirs," said the dame, "I have dealt mischievously +with the Soudan, for I have stolen my person from him, +and the son who was so dear to his heart."</p> + +<p>The lady went again to the shipmen, and lifting her +hand, said to them, +"Sirs, return to the Soudan whence you came, and +greet him with this message. Tell him that I have taken +from him my body and the son he loved so well, that I +might deliver my father, my lord, and my brother +from the prison where they were captive."</p> + +<p>When the sailors heard this they were very dolent, +but there was naught that they might do. They set +sail for their own country, sad and very heavy by reason +of the lady, of the young lad, whom they loved greatly, +and of the captives who were escaped altogether from +their hand.</p> + +<p>For his part the Count arrayed himself meetly by +grace of merchants and Templars, who lent him gladly +of their wealth. He abode in the town, together with +his fellowship, for their solace, till they made them ready +for the journey, and took the road to Rome. The Count +sought the Pontiff, and his company with him. Each +confessed him of the secrets of his heart, and when the +Bishop heard thereof, he accepted their devotion, and +comforted them right tenderly. He baptised the child, +who was named William. He reconciled the lady with +Holy Church, and confirmed the lady and Messire Thibault +her lord, in their marriage bond, reknitting them together, +giving penance to each, and absolution for their +sins. After this they made no long sojourn in Rome, +but took their leave of the Apostle who had honoured +them so greatly. He granted them his benison, and +commended them to God. So they went their way in +great solace and delight, praising God and His Mother, +and all the calendar of saints, and rendering thanks +for the mercies which had been vouchsafed to them. +Journeying thus they came at last to the country of +their birth, and were met by a fair procession of bishops +and abbots, monks and priests, who had desired them +fervently. But of all these welcomes they welcomed +most gladly her who was recovered from death, and had +delivered her sire, her lord, and her brother from the +hands of the Paynim, even as you have heard. There +we leave them for awhile, and will tell you of the +shipmen and Saracens who had fared with them across +the sea.</p> + +<p>The sailors and Saracens who had carried them to +Brindisi, returned as quickly as they were able, and +with a fair wind cast anchor before Aumarie. They +got them to land, very sad and heavy, and told their +tidings to the Soudan. +Right sorrowful was the Soudan, and neither for time +nor reason could he forget his grief. Because of this +mischief he loved that daughter the less who tarried +with him, and showed her the less courtesy. Nevertheless +the maiden increased in virtue and in wisdom, +so that the Paynim held her in love and honour, praising +her for the good that was known of her. But now the +story is silent as to that Soudan who was so tormented +by reason of the flight of his dame and captives; and +comes again to the Count of Ponthieu, who was welcomed +to his realm with such pomp and worship, as became a +lord of his degree.</p> + +<p>In no long while after his return the son of the Count +was dubbed knight, and rich was the feast. He became +a knight both chivalrous and brave. Greatly he loved +all honourable men, and gladly he bestowed fair gifts +on the poor knights and poor gentlewomen of the +country. Much was he esteemed of lord and hind, +for he was a worthy knight, generous, valiant and +debonair, proud only to his foes. Yet his days on earth +were but a span, which was the sorer pity, for he died +lamented of all.</p> + +<p>Now it befell that the Count held high Court, and +many a knight and lord sat with him at the feast. +Amongst these came a very noble man and knight, of +great place, in Normandy, named my lord Raoul des +Preaux. This Raoul had a daughter, passing sweet and +fair. The Count spoke so urgently to Raoul and to +the maiden's kin that a marriage was accorded between +William, his grandson, the son of the Soudan of Aumarie, +and the daughter of my lord Raoul, the heiress to all +his wealth. William wedded the damsel with every rich +observance, and in right of his wife this William became +Lord of Preaux.</p> + +<p>For a long while the realm had peace from its foes.</p> + +<p>Messire Thibault dwelt with the lady, and had of her +two sons, who in later days were worthy gentlemen of +great worship. The son of the Count of Ponthieu, of +whom we have spoken much and naught but good, died +shortly after, to the grief of all the land. The Count of +St. Pol was yet alive; therefore the two sons of my +lord Thibault were heirs to both these realms, and attained +thereto in the end. That devout lady, their mother, +because of her contrite heart, gave largely to the poor; +and Messire Thibault, like the honourable gentleman he +was, abounded in good works so long as he was quick.</p> + +<p>Now it chanced that the daughter of the lady, who +abode with the Soudan her father, increased greatly +in favour and in virtue. She was called The Fair +Captive, by reason that her mother had left her in the +Soudan's keeping, as you have heard. A certain brave +Turk in the service of the Soudan—Malakin of Baudas +by name—saw this damsel, so fair and gracious, and +desired her dearly in his heart, because of the good men +told of her. He came before his master, and said to +him,</p> + +<p>"Sire, in return for his labour your servant craves +a gift."</p> + +<p>"Malakin," returned the Soudan, "what gift would +you have?"</p> + +<p>"Sire, I would dare to tell it to your face, if only +she were not so high above my reach."</p> + +<p>The Sultan who was both shrewd and quick witted +made reply,</p> + +<p>"Say out boldly what is in your mind, for I hold +you dear, and remember what you have done. If there +is aught it beseems me to grant—saving only my honour—be +assured that it is yours."</p> + +<p>"Sire, well I know that your honour is without spot, +nor would I seek anything against it. I pray you to +bestow on your servant—if so it be your pleasure—my +lady your daughter, for she is the gift I covet most in +all the world."</p> + +<p>The Soudan kept silence, and considered for a space. +He knew well that Malakin was both valiant and wise, +and might easily come to great honour and degree. +Since the servant was worthy of his high desire, the +Soudan said, +"By my law you have required of me a great thing, +for I love my daughter dearly, and have no other heir. +You know well, and it is the simple truth, that she comes +of the best and bravest blood in France, for her mother +is the child of the Count of Ponthieu. But since you +too are valiant, and have done me loyal service, for my +part I will give her to you willingly, save only that it +be to the maiden's mind."</p> + +<p>"Sire," said Malakin, "I would not take her against +her wish."</p> + +<p>The Soudan bade the girl be summoned. When she +came, he said, +"Fair daughter, I have granted you in marriage, if +it pleases you."</p> + +<p>"Sir," answered the maiden, "my pleasure is in your +will."</p> + +<p>The Soudan took her by the hand, saying, +"Take her, Malakin, the maid is yours."</p> + +<p>Malakin received her with a glad heart, and wedded +her according to the Paynim rite, bringing her to his +house right joyously, with the countenance of all his +friends. Afterwards he returned with her to his own +land. The Soudan escorted them upon their way, +with such a fair company of his household as seemed +good to him. Then he bade farewell to his child and her +lord, and returned to his home. But a great part of his +fellowship he commanded to go with her for their service, +Malakin came back to his own land, where he was +welcomed right gladly of his friends, and served and +honoured by all the folk of his realm. He lived long and +tenderly with his wife, neither were they childless, as +this story testifies. For of this lady, who was called +the Fair Captive, was born the mother of that courteous +Turk, the Sultan Saladin, an honourable, a wise, and a +conquering lord.</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XVII"></a><h2>XVII</h2> + +<p>THE CHATELAINE OF VERGI</p> +<br> + +<p>There are divers men who make a great show of loyalty, +and pretend to such discretion in the hidden things they +hear, that at the end folk come to put faith in them. +When by their false seeming they have persuaded the +simple to open out to them their love and their deeds, +then they noise the matter about the country, and make +it their song and their mirth. Thus it chances that the +lesser joy is his who has bared to them his heart. For +the sweeter the love, the more bitter is the pang that +lovers know, when each deems the other to have bruited +abroad the secret he should conceal. Oftentimes these +blabbers do such mischief with their tongue, that the +love they spoil comes to its close in sorrow and in care. +This indeed happened in Burgundy to a brave and worthy +knight, and to the Lady of Vergi. This knight loved +his lady so dearly that she granted him her tenderness, +on such covenant as this—that the day he showed her +favour to any, that very hour he would lose the love +and the grace she bestowed on him. To seal this bond +they devised together that the knight should come a +days to an orchard, at such hour as seemed good to +his friend. He must remain coy in his nook within the +wall till he might see the lady's lapdog run across the +orchard. Then without further tarrying he should enter +her chamber, knowing full well she was alone, whom so +fondly he desired to greet. This he did, and in this +fashion they met together for a great while, none being +privy to their sweet and stolen love, save themselves +alone.</p> + +<p>The knight was courteous and fair, and by reason of +his courage was right welcome to that Duke who was lord +of Burgundy. He came and went about the Court, and +that so often that the Duchess set her mind upon him. +She cared so little to hide her thought, that had his +heart not been in another's keeping, he must surely +have perceived in her eyes that she loved him. But +however tender her semblance the knight showed no +kindness in return, for he marked nothing of her inclination. +Passing troubled was the dame that he should +treat her thus; so that on a day she took him apart, +and sought to make him of her counsel.</p> + +<p>"Sir, as men report, you are a brave and worthy +knight, for the which give God thanks. It would +not be more than your deserts, if you had for friend a +lady in so high a place that her love would bring to you +both honour and profit. How richly could such a +lady serve you!"</p> + +<p>"Lady," said he, "I have never yet had this in my +thought."</p> + +<p>"By my faith," she answered, "it seems to me that +the longer you wait, the less is your hope. Perchance +the lady will stoop very readily from her throne, if you +but kneel at her knee."</p> + +<p>The knight replied, +"Lady, by my faith, I know little why you speak such +words, and I understand their meaning not at all. I +am neither duke nor count to dare to set my love in +so high a seat. There is nought in me to gain the love +of so sovereign a dame, pain me how I may."</p> + +<p>"Such things have been," said she, "and so may +chance again. Many more marvellous works have been +wrought than this, and the day of miracles is not yet +past. Tell me, know you not yet that you have gained +the love of some high princess, even mine?"</p> + +<p>The knight made answer forthwith, +"Lady, I know it not. I would desire to have your +love in a fair and honourable fashion; but may God +keep me from such love between us, as would put shame +upon my lord. In no manner, nor for any reason, will +I enter on such a business as would lead me to deal my +true and lawful lord so shrewd and foul a wrong."</p> + +<p>Bitter at heart was the dame to see her love so scorned.</p> + +<p>"Fie upon you," she cried, "and who required of +you any such thing?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, lady, to God be the praise; you have said +enough to make your meaning passing plain."</p> + +<p>The lady strove no more to show herself kind to him. +Great was the wrath and sharp the malice that she hid +within her heart, and well she purposed that, if she might, +she would avenge herself speedily. All the day she +considered her anger. That night as she lay beside the +Duke she began to sigh, and afterwards to weep. Presently +the Duke inquired of her grief, bidding her show +it him forthwith.</p> + +<p>"Certes," said the dame, "I make this great sorrow +because no prince can tell who is his faithful servant, and +who is not. Often he gives the more honour and wealth +to those who are traitors rather than friends, and sees +nothing of their wrong."</p> + +<p>"In faith, wife," answered the Duke, "I know not why +you speak these words. At least I am free of such blame +as this, for in nowise would I nourish a traitor, if only a +traitor I knew him to be."</p> + +<p>"Hate then this traitor," cried she,—and she named a +name—"who gives me no peace, praying and requiring +me the livelong day that I should grant him my love. +For a great while he had been in this mind—as he +says—but did not dare to speak his thoughts. I considered +the whole matter, fair lord, and resolved to show +it you at once. It is likely enough to be true that he +cherished this hope, for we have never heard that he loves +elsewhere. I entreat you in guerdon, to look well to your +own honour, since this, as you know, is your duty and +right."</p> + +<p>Passing grievous was this business to the Duke. He +answered to the lady,</p> + +<p>"I will bring it to a head, and very quickly, as I deem."</p> + +<p>That night the Duke lay upon a bed of little ease. He +could neither sleep nor rest, by reason of that lord, his +friend, who, he was persuaded, had done him such bitter +wrong as justly to have forfeited his love. Because of +this he kept vigil the whole night through. He rose very +early on the morrow, and bade him come whom his wife +had put to blame, although he had done nothing blameworthy. +Then he took him to task, man to man, when +there were but these two together.</p> + +<p>"Certes," he said, "it is a heavy grief that you who are +so comely and brave, should yet have no honour in you. +You have deceived me the more, for I have long believed +you to be a man of good faith, giving loyalty, at least, to +me, in return for the love I have given to you. I know +not how you can have harboured such a felon's wish, as +to pray and require the Duchess to grant you her grace. +You are guilty of such treachery that conduct more +vile it would be far to seek. Get you hence from my +realm. You have my leave to part, and it is denied to +you for ever. If you return here it will be at your utmost +peril, for I warn you beforehand that if I lay hands +upon you, you will die a shameful death."</p> + +<p>When the knight heard this judgment, such wrath and +mortification were his that his members trembled beneath +him. He called to mind his friend, of whom he would +have no joy, if he might not come and go and sojourn +in that realm from which the Duke had banished +him. Moreover he was sick at heart that his lord should +deem him a disloyal traitor, without just cause. He +knew such sore discomfort that he held himself as dead +and betrayed.</p> + +<p>"Sire," said he, "for the love of God believe this never, +neither think that I have been so bold. To do that of +which you wrongfully charge me, has never entered my +mind, not one day, nor for one single hour. Who has +told you this lie has wrought a great ill."</p> + +<p>"You gain nothing by such denials," answered the +Duke, "for of a surety the thing is true. I have heard +from her own lips the very guise and fashion in which +you prayed and required her love, like the envious +traitor that you are. Many another word it may well be +that you spoke, as to which the lady of her courtesy keeps +silence."</p> + +<p>"My lady says what it pleases her to say," replied the +dolorous knight, "and my denials are lighter than +her word. Naught is there for me to say; nothing is left +for me to do, so that I may be believed that this adventure +never happened."</p> + +<p>"Happen it did, by my soul," said the Duke, remembering +certain words of his wife. Well he deemed that he +might be assured of the truth, if but the lady's testimony +were true that this lord had never loved otherwhere. +Therefore the Duke said to the knight, +"If you will pledge your faith to answer truly what I +may ask, I shall be certified by your words whether +or not you have done this deed of which I misdoubt +you."</p> + +<p>The knight had but one desire—to turn aside his lord's +wrath, which had so wrongfully fallen upon him. He +feared only lest he should be driven from the land where +lodged the dame who was the closest to his mind. +Knowing nothing of what was in the Duke's thought, he +considered that his question could only concern the one +matter; so he replied that without fraud or concealment +he would do as his lord had said. Thus he pledged his +faith, and the Duke accepted his affiance.</p> + +<p>When this was done the Duke made question,</p> + +<p>"I have loved you so dearly that at the bottom of my +heart I cannot believe you guilty of such shameless +misdoing as the Duchess tells me. I would not credit it +a moment, if you yourself were not the cause of my doubtfulness. +From your face, the care you bestow upon your +person, and a score of trifles, any who would know, can +readily see that you are in love with some lady. Since +none about the Court perceives damsel or dame on whom +you have set your heart, I ask myself whether indeed +it may not be my wife, who tells me that you have +entreated her for love. Nothing that any one may do +can take this suspicion from my mind, except you tell +me yourself that you love elsewhere, making it so plain +that I am left without doubt that I know the naked +truth. If you refuse her name you will have broken +your oath, and forth from my realm you go as an outlawed +man."</p> + +<p>The knight had none to give him counsel. To himself +he seemed to stand at the parting of two ways, both +one and the other leading to death. If he spoke the +simple truth (and tell he must if he would not be a +perjurer) then was he as good as dead; for if he did +such wrong as to sin against the covenant with his lady +and his friend, certainly he would lose her love, so it +came to her knowledge. But if he concealed the truth +from the Duke, then he was false to his oath, and had +lost both country and friend. But little he recked of +country, so only he might keep his Love, since of all +his riches she was the most dear. The knight called to +heart and remembrance the fair joy and the solace that +were his when he had this lady between his arms. He +considered within himself that if by reason of his misdoing +she came to harm, or were lost to him, since he +might not take her where he went, how could he live +without her. It would be with him also, as erst with +the Castellan of Couci, who having his Love fast only +in his heart, told over in his song,</p> + +Ah, God, strong Love, I sit and weep alone,<br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Remembering the solace that was given;</span><br> +The tender guise, the semblance that was shown<br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By her, my friend, my comrade, and my Heaven.</span><br> +<br> +When grief brings back the joy that was mine own,<br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I would the heart from out my breast were riven.</span><br> +Ah, Lord, the sweet words hushed, the beauty flown;<br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Would God that I were dead, and low, and shriven.</span><br> + +<p>The knight was in anguish such as this, for he knew +not whether to make clear the truth, or to lie and be +banished from the country.</p> + +<p>Whilst he was deep in thought, turning over in his +mind what it were best to do, tears rose in his heart +and flowed from his eyes, so that his face was wet, by +reason of the sorrow that he suffered. The Duke +had no more mirth than the knight, deeming that his +secret was so heavy that he dared not make it plain. +The Duke spoke swiftly to his friend,</p> + +<p>"I see clearly that you fear to trust me wholly, as a +knight should trust his lord. If you confess your counsel +privily to me, you cannot think that I shall show the +matter to any man. I would rather have my teeth +drawn one by one, than speak a word."</p> + +<p>"Ah," cried the knight, "for God's love, have pity, +Sire. I know not what I ought to say, nor what will +become of me; but I would rather die than lose what lose +I shall if she only hears that you have the truth, and that +you heard it from my lips, whilst I am a living man."</p> + +<p>The Duke made answer,</p> + +<p>"I swear to you by my body and my soul, and on +the faith and love I owe you again by reason of your +homage, that never in my life will I tell the tale to any +creature born, or even breathe a word or make a sign +about the business."</p> + +<p>With the tears yet running down his face the knight +said to him,</p> + +<p>"Sire, right or wrong, now will I show my secret. +I love your niece of Vergi, and she loves me, so that no +friends can love more fondly."</p> + +<p>"If you wish to be believed," replied the Duke, "tell +me now, if any, save you two alone, knows anything of +this joy?"</p> + +<p>And the knight made answer to him,</p> + +<p>"Nay, not a creature in the world."</p> + +<p>Then said the Duke,</p> + +<p>"No love is so privy as that. If none has heard +thereof, how do you meet together, and how devise +time and place?"</p> + +<p>"By my faith, Sire, I will tell you all, and keep back +nothing, since you know so much of our counsel."</p> + +<p>So he related the whole story of his goings to and fro +within the pleasaunce; of that first covenant with his +friend, and of the office of the little dog.</p> + +<p>Then said the Duke,</p> + +<p>"I require of you that I may be your comrade at +such fair meeting. When you go again to the orchard, I +too, would enter therein, and mark for myself the success of +your device. As for my niece she shall perceive naught."</p> + +<p>"Sire, if it be your will it is my pleasure also; save, +only, that you find it not heavy or burdensome. Know +well that I go this very night."</p> + +<p>The Duke said that he would go with him, for the +vigil would in no wise be burdensome, but rather a +frolic and a game. They accorded between them a place +of meeting, where they would draw together on foot, +and alone. When nightfall was come they fared to the +hostel of the Duke's niece, for her dwelling was near +at hand. They had not tarried long in the garden, when +the Duke saw his niece's lapdog run straight to that +end of the orchard where the knight was hidden. +Wondrous kindness showed the knight to his lady's +dog. Immediately he took his way to her lodging, and left +his master in his nook by the wall. The Duke followed +after till he drew near the chamber, and held himself +coy, concealing him as best he might. It was easy +enough to do this, for a great tree stood there, high and +leafy, so that he was covered close as by a shield. From +this place he marked the little dog enter the chamber, +and presently saw his niece issue therefrom, and hurry +forth to meet her lover in the pleasaunce. He was so +close that he could see and hear the solace of that +greeting, the salutation of her mouth and of her hands. +She embraced him closely in her fair white arms, kissing +him more than a hundred times, whilst she spoke many +comforting words. The knight for his part kissed her +again, and held her fast, praising her with many tender +names.</p> + +<p>"My lady, my friend, my love," said he, "heart and +mistress and hope, and the sum of all that I hold dear, +know well that I have yearned to be with you as we are +now, every day and all day long since we met."</p> + +<p>"Sweet lord, sweet friend, sweet love," replied the +lady, "never has a day nor an hour gone by but I was +awearied of its length. But I grieve no longer over the +past, for I have my heart's desire when you are with +me, joyous and well. Right welcome are you to your +friend."</p> + +<p>And the knight made answer,</p> + +<p>"Love, you are welcome and wellmet."</p> + +<p>From his place of hiding, near the entrance to the +chamber, the Duke hearkened to every word. His +niece's voice and face were so familiar to him, that he +could not doubt that the Duchess had lied. Greatly +was he content, for he was now assured that his friend +had not done amiss in that of which he had misdoubted +him. All through the night he kept watch and ward. +But during his vigil the dame and the knight, close and +sleepless in the chamber, knew such joy and tenderness +as it is not seemly should be told or heard, save of those +who hope themselves to attain such solace, when Love +grants them recompense for all their pains. For he +who desires nothing of this joy and quittance, even if +it were told him, would but listen to a tongue he could +not understand, since his heart is not turned to Love, +and none can know the wealth of such riches, except +Love whisper it in his ear. Of such kingdom not all +are worthy: for there joy goes without anger, and solace +is crowned with fruition. But so fleet are things sweet, +that to the lover his joy seems to find but a brief content. +So pleasant is the life he passes that he wishes his night +a week, his week to stretch to a month, the month +become a year, and one year three, and three years +twenty, and the twenty attain to a hundred. Yea, when +the term and end were reached, he would that the dusk +were closing, rather than the dawn had come.</p> + +<p>This was the case with the lover whom the Duke +awaited in the orchard. When day was breaking, and +he durst remain no longer, he came with his lady to +the door. The Duke marked the fashion of their leave-taking, +the kisses given and granted, the sighs and the +weeping as they bade farewell. When they had wept +many tears, and devised an hour for their next meeting, +the knight departed in this fashion, and the lady shut +the door. But so long as she might see him, she followed +his going with her pretty eyes, since there was nothing +better she could do.</p> + +<p>When the Duke knew the postern was made fast, +he hastened on his road until he overtook the knight, +who to himself was making his complaint of the season, +that all too short was his hour. The same thought +and the self same words were hers from whom he had +parted, for the briefness of the time had betrayed her +delight, and she had no praises for the dawn. The knight +was deep in his thought and speech, when he was overtaken +by the Duke. The Duke embraced his friend, +greeting him very tenderly. Then he said to him,</p> + +<p>"I pledge my faith that I will love you all the days +of my life, never on any day seeking to do you a mischief, +for you have told me the very truth, and have not lied +to me by a single word."</p> + +<p>"Sire," he made answer, "thanks and gramercy. +But for the love of God I require and pray of you that +it be your pleasure to hide this counsel; for I should +lose my love, and the peace and comfort of my life—yea, +and should die without sin of my own, if I deemed +that any other in this realm than yourself knew aught +of the business."</p> + +<p>"Now speak of it never," replied the Duke. "Know +that the counsel shall be kept so hidden, that by me +shall not a syllable be spoken."</p> + +<p>On this covenant they came again whence they had set +forth together. That day, when men sat at meat, the +Duke showed to his knight a friendlier semblance and a +fairer courtesy than ever he had done before. The +Duchess felt such wrath and despitefulness at this, +that—without any leasing—she rose from the table, +and making pretence of sudden sickness, went to lie +upon her bed, where she found little softness. When +the Duke had eaten and washed and made merry, he +afterwards sought his wife's chamber, and causing her +to be seated on her bed, commanded that none should +remain, save himself. So all men went forth at his +word, even as he had bidden. Thereupon the Duke +inquired of the lady how this evil had come to her, and +of what she was sick. She made answer,</p> + +<p>"As God hears me, never till I ate at table did I deem +that you had so little sense or decency, as when I saw +you making much of him, who, I have told you already, +strove to bring shame and disgrace on me. When I +watched you entreat him with more favour than even +was your wont, such great sorrow and such great anger +took hold on me, that I could not contain myself in the +hall."</p> + +<p>"Sweet friend," replied the Duke, "know that I shall +never believe—either from your lips or from those of +any creature in the world—that the story ever happened +as you rehearsed it. I am so deep in his counsel that he +has my quittance, for I have full assurance that he never +dreamed of such a deed. But as to this you must ask +of me no more."</p> + +<p>The Duke went straightway from the chamber, leaving +the lady sunk in thought. However long she had to live, +never might she know an hour's comfort, till she had +learnt something of that secret of which the Duke +forbade her to seek further. No denial could now stand +in her way, for in her heart swiftly she devised a means +to unriddle this counsel, so only she might endure +until the evening, and the Duke was in her arms. She +was persuaded that, beyond doubt, such solace would +win her wish more surely than wrath or tears. For +this purpose she held herself coy, and when the Duke +came to lie at her side she betook herself to the further +side of the bed, making semblance that his company +gave her no pleasure. Well she knew that such show +of anger was the device to put her lord beneath her feet. +Therefore she turned her back upon him, that the Duke +might the more easily be drawn by the cords of her wrath. +For this same reason when he had no more than kissed +her, she burst out,</p> + +<p>"Right false and treacherous and disloyal are you to +make such a pretence of affection, who yet have never +loved me truly one single day. All these years of our +wedded life I have been foolish enough to believe, what +you took such pains in the telling, that you loved +me with a loyal heart. To-day I see plainly that I +was the more deceived."</p> + +<p>"In what are you deceived?" inquired the Duke.</p> + +<p>"By my faith," cried she, who was sick of her desire, +"you warn me that I be not so bold as to ask aught of +that of which you know the secret."</p> + +<p>"In God's name, sweet wife, of what would you +know?"</p> + +<p>"Of all that he has told you, the lies and the follies +he has put in your mind, and led you to believe. But +it matters little now whether I hear it or not, for I +remember how small is my gain in being your true +and loving wife. For good or for ill I have shown you +all my counsel. There was nothing that was known +and seen of my heart that you were not told at once; +and of your courtesy you repay me by concealing your +mind. Know, now, without doubt, that never again +shall I have in you such affiance, nor grant you my love +with such sweetness, as I have bestowed them in the past."</p> +<br> + +<p>Thereat the Duchess began to weep and sigh, making +the most tender sorrow that she was able. The Duke +felt such pity for her grief that he said to her,</p> + +<p>"Fairest and dearest, your wrath and anger are more +heavy than I can bear; but learn that I cannot tell +what you wish me to say without sinning against my +honour too grievously."</p> + +<p>Then she replied forthwith,</p> + +<p>"Husband, if you do not tell me, the reason can only +be that you do not trust me to keep silence in the business. +I wonder the more sorely at this, because there +is no matter, either great or small, that you have told +me, which has been published by me. I tell you honestly +that never in my life could I be so indiscreet."</p> + +<p>When she had said this, she betook her again to her +tears. The Duke kissed and embraced her, and was +so sick of heart that strength failed him to keep his +purpose.</p> + +<p>"Fair wife," he said to her, "by my soul I am at +my wits' end. I have such trust and faith in you that +I deem I should hide nothing, but show you all that I +know. Yet I dread that you will let fall some word. +Know, wife—and I tell it you again—that if ever +you betray this counsel you will get death for your +payment."</p> + +<p>The Duchess made answer,</p> + +<p>"I agree to the bargain, for it is not possible that I +should deal you so shrewd a wrong."</p> + +<p>Then he who loved her, because of his faith and his +credence in her word, told all this story of his niece, +even as he had learned it from the knight. He told how +those two were alone together in the shadow of the +wall, when the little dog ran to them. He showed +plainly of that coming forth from the chamber, and of +the entering in; nothing was hid, he concealed naught +of that he had heard and seen. When the Duchess +understood that the love of a mighty dame was despised +for the sake of a lowly gentlewoman, her humiliation +was bitter in her mouth as death. She showed no semblance +of despitefulness, but made covenant and +promise with the Duke to keep the matter close, saying +that should she repeat his tale he might hang her from +a tree.</p> + +<p>Time went very heavily with the lady, till she could +get speech with her, whom she hated from the hour she +knew her to be the friend of him who had caused her +such shame and grief. She was persuaded that for this +reason he would not give her love, in return for that +she set on him. She confirmed herself in her purpose, +that at such time and place she saw the Duke speaking +with his niece, she would go swiftly to the lady, and tell +out all her mind, hiding nothing because it was evil. +Neither time nor place was met, till Pentecost was come, +and the Duke held high Court, commanding to the feast +all the ladies of his realm, amongst the first that lady, +his niece, who was the Chatelaine of Vergi. When the +Duchess looked on her, the blood pricked in her veins, +for reason that she hated her more than aught else in +the world. She had the courage to hide her malice, and +greeted the lady more gladly than ever she had done +before. But she yearned to show openly the anger that +burned in her heart, and the delay was much against +her mind. On Pentecost, whilst the tables were removed, +the Duchess brought the ladies to her chamber with +her, that, apart from the throng, they might the more +graciously attire them for the dance. She deemed her +hour had come, and having no longer the power to +refrain her lips, she said gaily, as if in jest,</p> + +<p>"Chatelaine, array yourself very sweetly, since there +is a fair and worthy lord you have to please."</p> + +<p>The lady answered right simply,</p> + +<p>"In truth, madam, I know not what you are thinking +of; but for my part I wish for no such friendship as +may not be altogether according to my honour and to +that of my lord."</p> + +<p>"I grant that readily," replied the Duchess, "you +are a good mistress, and have an apt pupil in your little +dog."</p> + +<p>The ladies returned with the Duchess to the hall, +where the dances were already set. They had listened +to the tale, but could not mark the jest. The chatelaine +remained in the chamber. Her colour came and went, +and because of her wrath and trouble the heart throbbed +thickly in her breast. She passed within a tiring chamber, +where a little maiden was lying at the foot of the +bed; but for grief she might not perceive her. The +chatelaine flung herself upon the bed, bewailing her +evil plight, for she was exceedingly sorrowful. She +said,</p> + +<p>"Ah, Lord God, take pity on me! What may this +mean, that I have listened to my lady's reproaches +because of the training of my little dog! This she can +have learned from none—as well I know—save from him +whom I have loved, and who has betrayed me. He +would never have shown her this thing, except that he +was her familiar friend, and doubtless loves her more +dearly than me, whom he has betrayed. I see now the +value of his oaths, since he finds it so easy to fail in his +covenant. Sweet God, and I loved him so fondly, more +fondly than any woman has loved before; who never had +him from my thoughts one single hour, whether it were +night or day. For he was my mirth and my carol; in +him were my joy and my pleasure; he alone was my +solace and comfort. Ah, my friend, how can this have +come; you who were always with me, even when I +might not see you with my eyes! What ill has befallen +you, that you durst prove false to me? I deemed you +more faithful—God take me in His keeping—than ever +was Tristan to Isoude. May God pity a poor fool, I +loved you half as much again than I had love for myself. +From the first to the last of our friendship, never by +thought, or by word, or by deed, have I done amiss; +there is no wrong doing, trifling or great, to make plain +your hatred, or to excuse so vile a betrayal as this +scorning of our love for a fresher face, this desertion +of me, this proclaiming of our secret. Alas, my friend, +I marvel greatly; for as God is my witness my heart +was not thus towards you. If God had offered me all +the kingdoms of the world, yea, and His Heaven and its +Paradise besides, I would have refused them gladly, had +my gain meant the losing of you. For you were my +wealth and my song and my health, and nothing can +hurt me any more, since my heart has learnt that yours +no longer loves me. Ah, lasting, precious love! Who +could have guessed that he would deal this blow, to +whom I gave the grace of my tenderness—who said +that I was his lady both in body and in soul, and +he the slave at my bidding. Yea, he told it over so +sweetly, that I believed him faithfully, nor thought in +any wise that his heart would bear wrath and malice +against me, whether for Duchess or for Queen. How +good was this love, since the heart in my breast must +always cleave to his! I counted him to be my friend, +in age as in youth, our lives together; for well I knew +that if he died first I should not dare to endure long +without him, because of the greatness of my love. The +grave, with him, would be fairer, than life in a world +where I might never see him with my eyes. Ah, lasting, +precious love! Is it then seemly that he should publish +our counsel, and destroy her who had done him no +wrong? When I gave him my love without grudging, +I warned him plainly, and made covenant with him, +that he would lose me the self same hour that he made +our tenderness a song. Since part we must, I may not +live after so bitter a sorrow; nor would I choose to +live, even if I were able. Fie upon life, it has no savour +in it. Since it pleases me naught, I pray to God to grant +me death, and—so truly as I have loved him who requites +me thus—to have mercy on my soul. I forgive him +his wrong, and may God give honour and life to him +who has betrayed and delivered me to death. Since +it comes from his hand, death, meseems, is no bitter +potion; and when I remember his love, to die for his +sake is no grievous thing."</p> + +<p>When the chatelaine had thus spoken she kept silence, +save only that she said in sighing,</p> + +<p>"Sweet friend, I commend you to God."</p> + +<p>With these words she strained her arms tightly across +her breast, the heart failed her, and her face lost its fair +colour. She swooned in her anguish, and lay back, pale +and discoloured in the middle of the bed, without life or +breath.</p> + +<p>Of this her friend knew nothing, for he sought his +delight in the hall, at carol and dance and play. But +amongst all those ladies he had no pleasure in any that +he saw, since he might not perceive her to whom his +heart was given, and much he marvelled thereat. He +took the Duke apart, and said in his ear,</p> + +<p>"Sire, whence is this that your niece tarries so long, and +comes not to the dancing? Have you put her in prison?"</p> + +<p>The Duke looked upon the dancers, for he had not +concerned himself with the revels. He took his friend +by the hand, and led him directly to his wife's chamber. +When he might not find her there he bade the knight +seek her boldly in the tiring chamber; and this he did +of his courtesy that these two lovers might solace +themselves with clasp and kiss. The knight thanked his +lord sweetly, and entered softly in the chamber, where +his friend lay dark and discoloured upon the bed. Time +and place being met together, he took her in his arms +and touched her lips. But when he found how cold was +her mouth, how pale and rigid her person, he knew by +the semblance of all her body that she was quite dead. +In his amazement he cried out swiftly,</p> + +<p>"What is this? Alas, is my dear one dead?"</p> + +<p>The maiden started from the foot of the bed where +she still lay, making answer,</p> + +<p>"Sir, I deem truly that she be dead. Since she came +to this room she has done nothing but call upon death, +by reason of her friend's falsehood, whereof my lady +assured her, and because of a little dog, whereof my +lady made her jest. This sorrow brought her to her +death."</p> + +<p>When the knight understood from this that the words +he had spoken to the Duke had slain his friend, he was +discomforted beyond measure.</p> + +<p>"Alas," said he, "sweet love, the most gracious and +the best that ever knight had, loyal and true, how have +I slain you, like the faithless traitor that I am! It +were only just that I should receive the wages for my +deed, so that you could have gone free of blame. But +you were so faithful of heart that you took it on yourself +to pay the price. Then I will do justice on myself for +the treason I have wrought."</p> + +<p>The knight drew from its sheath a sword that was +hanging from the wall, and thrust it throught his heart. +He pained himself to fall upon his lady's body; and +because of the mightiness of his hurt, bled swiftly to +death. The maiden fled forth from the chamber, when +she marked these lifeless lovers, for she was all adread +at what she saw. She lighted on the Duke, and told +him all that she had heard and seen, keeping back +nothing. She showed him the beginning of the matter, +and also of the little dog, whereof the Duchess had +spoken.</p> + +<p>Hearken all to what befell. The Duke went straightway +to the tiring chamber, and drew from out the wound +that sword by which the knight lay slain. He said no +word, but hastened forthwith to the hall where the guests +were yet at their dancing. Entering there he acquitted +himself of his promise, for he smote the Duchess on +the head with the naked sword he carried in his hand. He +struck the blow without one word, since his wrath was +too deep for speech. The Duchess fell at his feet, in +the sight of the barons of his realm, whereat the feast +was sorely troubled, for in place of mirth and carol, now +were blood and death. Then the Duke told loudly +and swiftly, before all who cared to hear, this pitiful +story, in the midst of his Court. There was not one +but wept, and his tears were the more piteous when he +beheld those two lovers who lay dead in the chamber, +and the Duchess in her hall. So the Court broke up in +dole and anger, for of this deed came mighty mischief. +On the morrow the Duke caused the lovers to be laid +in one tomb, and the Duchess in a place apart. But +of this adventure the Duke had such bitterness that never +was he known to laugh again. He took the Cross, +and went beyond the sea, where joining himself to +the Knights Templar, he never returned to his own +realm.</p> + +<p>Ah, God! all this mischief and encumbrance chanced +to the knight by reason of his making plain that he +should have hid, and of publishing what his friend +forbade him to speak, if he would keep her love. From +this ensample we may learn that it is not seemly to love, +and tell. He who blabs and blazons his friendship gets +not one kiss the more; but he who goes discreetly +preserves life and love and fame. For the friendship +of the discreet lover falls not before the mine of such +false and felon pryers as burrow privily into their +neighbour's secret love.</p> +<br> + +<p>PRINTED BY</p> + +<p>THE TEMPLE PRESS AT LETCHWORTH IN GREAT BRITAIN</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11417 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |