Arthurian Romances

by Chretien de Troyes

  I cannot tell you or describe who each one was or give his name, but whoever else might or might not have come, Erec did not forget the father or the mother of my lady Enide. He was the first summoned, and he came to court very richly like a powerful baron and châtelain; he did not have a suite of chaplains or of silly, gaping folk but of good knights and well-dressed people. Each day they journeyed such a long way amid great joy and honour that on the day before Christmas they reached the city of Nantes. They did not stop at all until they entered the great hall where the king and his people were.

  Erec and Enide saw them; you may be sure this gave them joy. They went to meet them as quickly as they could, and greeted and embraced them; they spoke to them most tenderly and welcomed them with appropriate joy. When they had greeted one another, with hands linked in embrace all four came before the king and greeted him at once and the queen likewise, who was seated at his side.

  Erec took the vavasour by the hand and said: ‘Sire, you see before you my good host and good friend, who displayed such great honour to me that he made me lord in his house. Before he knew anything of me, he generously gave me lodging. He put all he had at my disposal; he even gave me his daughter, without advice or counsel from anyone.’

  ‘And this lady with him, friend,’ said the king, ‘who is she?’

  Erec concealed nothing from him. ‘Sire,’ he said, ‘I can tell you that this lady is the mother of my wife.’

  ‘She is her mother?’

  ‘Indeed, sire.’

  ‘Then I can truly say that the flower that comes from such a beautiful stem must be very beautiful and noble, and the fruit gathered there all the better, for what comes from a good source smells sweet. Enide is beautiful, and beautiful she must be by reason and by rights for her mother is a most beautiful lady and her father a handsome knight. She does not betray them in any respect, for she greatly resembles and takes after them both in many ways.’

  Here the king stopped and was silent after ordering them to be seated. They did not disobey his order but sat down at once. Now, seeing her father and mother, Enide was filled with joy because she had not seen them for a very long time. This had nurtured her joyous expectation: she was supremely gladdened and pleased and she showed her joy as much as she could; but however much she was able to show it, it was greater still within her.

  But I wish to say no more of this, for inclination draws me towards the people who were all assembled there from many diverse lands. There were many counts and kings, Normans, Bretons, Scotsmen, Irish. From England and from Cornwall there was a rich gathering of barons, for from Wales all the way to Anjou, in Maine or in Poitou, no important knight or noble lady of fine lineage was left; the best and the most noble of all were at the court at Nantes, for the king had summoned them all.

  Now hear if you will of the great joy and the great ceremony, the nobility and the magnificence that were displayed at the court. Before the hour of tierce had sounded, King Arthur had dubbed four hundred knights and more, all sons of counts and kings; he gave each of them three horses and three pairs of mantles, to improve the appearance of his court. The king was very powerful and generous: he did not give mantles made of serge, nor of rabbit or dark-brown wool, but of samite and ermine, of whole miniver and mottled silk, bordered with orphrey, stiff and rough. Alexander, who conquered so much that he subdued the whole world and was so generous and rich, was poor and miserly compared to him. Caesar, the emperor of Rome, and all the kings you hear about in narrative and epic poems, did not give so much at a celebration as King Arthur gave the day he crowned Erec; nor did Caesar and Alexander between them dare to expend as much as was spent at the court.

  The mantles were spread out freely through all the rooms; all of them were thrown out of the trunks, and anyone who wished could take some uninhibitedly. On a tapestry in the middle of the courtyard were thirty hogsheads of white sterlings, for at that time the sterling was in use throughout Brittany and had been since the time of Merlin. There everyone helped themselves; each person carried off that night as much as he wished to his lodgings.

  At the hour of tierce, on Christmas day, they all assembled there. The great joy coming to him quite stole Erec’s heart away. The tongue or lips of any mortal man, no matter how artful, could not describe a third or a quarter or a fifth of the display that was present at his coronation. So I am about to take on a foolish venture, wishing to undertake its description; but since I must do so, then come what may! I shall not refrain from telling a part of it, according to my understanding.

  In the hall were two faldstools of ivory, white and beautiful and new, identical in style and size. Their maker was without any doubt extremely subtle and ingenious for he made the pair of them so alike, in height, length, and ornamentation, that you might inspect them from every side to distinguish one from the other without ever being able to find anything in one not present in the other. There was nothing in them made of wood, but only of gold and fine ivory. They were very minutely carved, for two of the legs had the form of leopards, and the other two of crocodiles. A knight, Bruiant of the Isles, had made a gift of them in homage to King Arthur and the queen. King Arthur sat on one; he had Erec, dressed in moiré cloth, sit on the other. In the story can be read a description of the robe, and I claim as my guarantor Macrobius,21 who applied himself to its history, lest anyone should say I am lying. Macrobius teaches me how to describe, as I found it in the book, the handiwork of the cloth and the images portrayed on it.

  Four fairies had created it with great skill and great mastery. One of them portrayed Geometry, how she examines and measures the extent of the earth and sky so that nothing is omitted, and then the bottom and the top, and then the breadth and the length, and then how she carefully reckons the breadth of the ocean, and thus measures the whole world. This work was the first fairy’s contribution.

  And the second put her effort into portraying Arithmetic, taking pains to show clearly how she accurately numbers the days and hours of time, and the water of the sea drop by drop, and then all the grains of sand and the stars in sequence, and how many leaves are in a wood: she tells the truth of all these. No number ever deceived her and she will never lie about anything, for it is her wish to give it her detailed attention. Such was the work of Arithmetic.

  And the third work was that of Music, with which all pleasures harmonize: song and descant, and sounds of strings, harp, rote, and vielle. This work was good and beautiful, for before her lay all the instruments and delights.

  The fourth one, whose work was next, accomplished a most excellent task, for she represented the best of the arts: she concerned herself with Astronomy, who makes so many wonders and seeks counsel from the stars, moon, and sun. Nowhere else does she take counsel about what she must do; these advise her very well about whatever she asks of them, and whatever was and will be they enable her to know with certainty, without lying or deceit.

  This work was portrayed in the cloth from which Erec’s robe was made, fashioned and woven with golden thread. The fur lining that was sewn into it was from strange beasts that have completely blond heads and necks as black as mulberries and backs that are bright red on top, with black bellies and indigo tails. Such beasts are born in India, and are called berbiolettes;22 they eat nothing but spices, cinnamon, and fresh clove. What should I tell you of the mantle? It was very rich and fine and handsome. There were four stones on the fasteners. On one side were two chrysolites and on the other two amethysts, which were set in gold.

  Enide had not yet come to the palace at that time; when the king saw that she delayed, he ordered Gawain to go to fetch her. Gawain ran to her without delay, and with him were King Caroduant and the generous King of Galloway; Guivret the Short accompanied him, and then came Yder, son of Nut. So many other barons hurried there just to escort the ladies that one could have destroyed an army, for there were more than a thousand of them. The queen had taken great pains to adorn Enide as well as she could. They brought her to the palace, t
he courtly Gawain on one side and on the other the generous King of Galloway, who cherished her particularly because of Erec, who was his nephew.

  As soon as they arrived at the palace, King Arthur hurried forth to meet them and nobly seated Enide beside Erec, for he wanted to do her great honour. At once he ordered two crowns, both of fine solid gold, to be brought forth from his treasure. As soon as he had pronounced this order, the crowns were brought before him, glowing with carbuncles, for there were four of them in each one. The light of the moon is nothing compared to the light the very least of those carbuncles could shed. Because of the light they reflected, all those in the palace were so thoroughly dazzled that for a while they could not see a thing; even the king was dazzled by it, and yet he greatly rejoiced to see them so bright and beautiful. He had two maidens take one of them and two barons hold the other.

  Then he ordered the bishops and priors and abbots of the religious orders to come forward to anoint the new king according to Christian law. At once all the prelates, young and old, came forward, for at the court there were many clerics and bishops and abbots. The bishop of Nantes himself, who was a very saintly gentleman, most piously and fittingly performed the coronation of the new king and put the crown upon his head. King Arthur ordered a sceptre to be brought forth, which was greatly praised. Hear how the sceptre was made: it was brighter than stained glass, made from a single emerald that was as big as a fist. I dare say, in truth, that in all the world there is no manner of fish, or wild beast, or man, or flying bird, which was not wrought and carved there, each accurate in its true image. The sceptre was given to the king, who looked at it with wonder; then, without delay, he placed it in Erec’s right hand. Now he was king as was proper. Then they crowned Enide.

  The bells had already rung for Mass, so they went to the main church to hear the Mass and service; they went to pray at the cathedral. You would have seen Enide’s father weep for joy, and her mother as well, whose name was Tarsenesyde; truly that was her mother’s name, and her father’s was Licorant. Both of them were very happy. When they arrived at the cathedral all the monks of the church issued forth to meet them, bringing relics and treasures, crosses and gospel books and censers, and reliquaries with holy relics, for there were many in the church. Everything was brought out in their honour, and there was no lack of singing.

  Never did anyone see together so many kings, counts, dukes, and barons at one Mass; so great was the crowd and so dense that the church was completely full. No peasant could enter there, only ladies and knights, and outside the door of the church there were many more, for so many had gathered that not everybody could enter the church. When they had heard the entire Mass, they returned to the castle.

  All was ready and in order, tables set and tablecloths laid. There were five hundred tables and more, but I do not wish to make you believe something that does not seem true: it would appear too great a lie if I said that five hundred tables were set up together in one great hall; I do not wish to say that. Rather, they filled five halls, so that one could only with great difficulty find a way between the tables. At each table, in truth, there was either a king or a duke or a count, and at least a hundred knights were seated at each table. A thousand knights served the bread and a thousand the wine and a thousand the food, all of them dressed in new ermine pelisses. Of the various dishes they were served I could give you an accurate account, but I won’t since I must attend to something else besides telling about the food. They had plenty, without shortages; with great joy and great abundance they were served as they desired.

  When that celebration was over, the king dismissed the gathering of kings and dukes and counts, whose number was very large, and of other people, including the lesser folk who had come to the celebration. He had most generously given them horses and arms and money, clothes and costly silks of many kinds, because he was extremely noble and because of his great love of Erec. The tale ends here at this point.

  HERE ENDS THE ROMANCE OF EREC AND ENIDE.

  CLIGÉS

  HE WHO wrote Erec and Enide, who translated Ovid’s Commandments and the Art of Love into French,1 who wrote The Shoulder Bite, and about King Mark and Isolde the Blonde, and of the metamorphosis of the hoopoe, swallow, and nightingale, begins now a new tale of a youth who, in Greece, was of King Arthur’s line. But before I tell you anything of him, you will hear about the life of his father – his origins and lineage. He was so valiant and bold of heart that, in order to win fame and glory, he went from Greece to England, which in those days was called Britain. This story that I wish to relate to you we find written down in one of the books in my lord St Peter’s Library in Beauvais;2 the tale from which Chrétien fashions this romance was taken from there. The book containing the true story is very old, therefore it is all the more worthy of belief. Through the books we have, we learn of the deeds of ancient peoples and of bygone days. Our books have taught us that chivalry and learning first flourished in Greece; then to Rome came chivalry and the sum of knowledge, which now has come to France.3 May God grant that they be maintained here and may He be pleased enough with this land that the glory now in France may never leave. God merely lent it to the others: no one speaks any more of the Greeks or Romans; their fame has grown silent and their glowing ember has gone out.

  Chrétien begins his tale, following his source, which tells of an emperor, mighty in wealth and glory, who ruled over Greece and Constantinople. He was wed to a most noble empress, by whom he had two children. But before the second was born, the first was of an age to become a knight and defend the kingdom, if he chose. The elder was named Alexander; the younger, Alis. Their father’s name likewise was Alexander, and their mother’s name was Tantalis.

  I cease now to speak of the empress Tantalis, of the emperor, and of Alis; I shall tell of Alexander, who was so courageous and bold that he would not consider becoming a knight in his own land. He had heard mention of King Arthur, who reigned in those days, and of the barons who always accompanied him, making his court feared and renowned throughout the world. Whatever might come of it, whatever might happen to him, nothing in the world could prevent his wanting to travel to Britain. But before voyaging to Britain or to Cornwall, it was proper to take leave of his father.

  The handsome and brave Alexander went to speak with the emperor in order to request, and take, leave; he told him his wishes and what he intended to undertake: ‘Good father, in order to learn honour, and win fame and glory, I dare to ask a favour of you, which I wish you to grant me. And if you are of a mind to grant it, do not put it off.’

  The emperor could not imagine any harm coming to him in this matter: it was his duty to seek and promote his son’s honour above all else. He imagined he would be doing a good service. Imagined? – indeed, he would be if he increased his son’s honour.

  ‘Dear son,’ he said, ‘I grant you your pleasure; now tell me what it is you would have me give you.’

  The young man had managed to achieve what he wanted and was happy because of it, since he had been granted the gift he had sought so eagerly.

  ‘My lord,’ he said, ‘would you like to know what you have granted me? I wish to have an abundance of your gold and silver, and such companions from among your men as I shall choose; for I wish to leave your empire and present my service to the king who rules Britain, so that he might make me a knight. I swear to you that I’ll never arm my face or put a helmet over my head as long as I live unless King Arthur girds the sword upon me, if he will deign to do so, for I do not wish to be knighted by anyone else.’

  Without hesitating, the emperor replied: ‘Dear son, for God’s sake don’t say that! All of this land is yours, along with the rich city of Constantinople. You must not consider me miserly, since I offer you such a splendid gift. Soon I’ll have you crowned; tomorrow you’ll be made a knight. All Greece will be in your hands, and you will receive the homage and oaths of our barons, as is proper. It would not be wise to refuse this.’

  The young man heard his
father promise to knight him the next day after Mass, but insisted that he would win glory or fail in a land other than his own.

  ‘If you wish to honour me according to my request, then give me vair and miniver, good horses, and silken cloth; for before I become a knight I wish to serve King Arthur. I am not yet worthy enough to bear arms. No pleading or flattery can keep me from going to that distant land to see the king and his barons, who are so greatly renowned for courtesy and valour. Many high-born men through indolence have forfeited the great fame they might have had, had they set off through the world. Idleness and glory do not go well together, it seems to me; a noble man who sits and waits gains nothing. Valour burdens a coward, while cowardice weighs down the brave; thus they are contrary and opposed. He who spends all his time amassing wealth is a slave to it. Dear father, as long as I am free to seek glory, if I am worthy enough I wish to strive and work for it.’

  There is no doubt that the emperor was both happy and sad at this: happy to hear that his son was striving for valour, and sad, on the other hand, that he was leaving him. But no matter how it saddened him, he was obligated because of the promise he had made to grant his son’s wish: for an emperor must never lie.

  ‘Dear son,’ he said, ‘since I see you striving for glory I must not fail to do what pleases you. You may fill two boats with gold and silver from my treasury, but you must always show largesse, courtesy, and good manners.’

  The young man was filled with joy on hearing that his father had promised to open his treasury to him, and was exhorting and urging him to give and spend liberally. And he explained to him the reason.

  ‘Dear son,’ he said, ‘believe me when I tell you that largesse is the queen and lady who brightens all virtues, and this is not difficult to prove Where could one find a man who, no matter how powerful or rich, would not be reproached if he were miserly? What man has so many other good qualities – excepting only God’s grace – that largesse would not increase his fame? Largesse alone makes one a worthy man, not high birth, courtesy, wisdom, gentility, riches, strength, chivalry, boldness, power, beauty, or any other gift. But just as the rose, when it buds fresh and new, is more beautiful than any other flower, so largesse, wherever it appears, surpasses all other virtues and causes the good qualities it finds in a worthy man who comports himself well to be increased five-hundred fold. There is so much to be said of largesse that I could not tell the half.’