Now many of the knights, as they mulled over it, began to realize and exclaim that they had all been defeated and undone by a single knight, except that each day he changed his horse and arms to appear as a different person. They realized this now for the first time. And my lord Gawain stated that he had never seen such a champion. Because he wished to make his acquaintance and learn his name, he said that he himself would sally forth first on the following day when the knights gathered. But he made no boast, saying rather that he thought and presumed the unknown knight would have the advantage and honour in the breaking of lances, but that perhaps he would not master him in the swordplay, for Gawain had not yet found his master there. So he is ready now to test himself on the morrow against the stranger knight who changes his armour and his horse and harness every day. He’ll soon be a bird of many moultings if he continues to shed his feathers and put on new plumage with each day! Gawain spoke with words like these; and the next day he saw Cligés return to the field, whiter than a lily, grasping his shield by its straps and riding the rested white Arabian, as had been arranged the night before. Gawain, bold and illustrious, scarcely slowed as he took the field, but spurred and urged on his horse, striving as best he could to win honour in the joust, if an opponent could be found.
Soon the two of them would be together on the field, for Cligés was eager for action as soon as he heard the crowd saying: ‘There’s Gawain, a great fighter on horse or afoot. No one can match him.’
Hearing these words, Cligés charged across the field towards him. Each rushed towards the other and they rode together with more speed than the stag who hears the baying of hounds at his hooves. Lances smashed against shields, and the blows struck with such fury that the lances splintered, split, and broke right down to their chamois-covered grips. Saddle-backs gave way as girths and breast-straps snapped. They hit the ground as one and drew their flashing swords. People gathered around to watch the battle. King Arthur stepped forward to separate them and make peace; but their white hauberks would be ripped to shreds, their shields split and hacked to bits, and their helmets crushed before there would be any talk of peace.
After the king had observed the battle as long as he wished – along with many others who were saying they found the white knight no less valiant in arms than my lord Gawain – they did not know how to say which was better, which worse, or which would defeat the other if the battle were allowed to continue until one was dead.
But it did not please the king for them to do more than they had done, so he stepped forward to separate them, saying: ‘Step back! I forbid you to strike another blow. Make peace and be friends! My dear nephew Gawain, I ask you this, because without just quarrel or hatred it is not becoming for a worthy man to prolong a battle or combat. But if this knight would consent to come and indulge his pleasure with us at my court, he would not find it hostile or disagreeable. Beg him to come, nephew.’
‘Gladly, my lord.’
Cligés was of no mind to refuse and willingly agreed to come as soon as the tournament was over, for now he had scrupulously carried out all that his father had commanded. And the king said he did not care for tournaments that lasted too long, so they could call an immediate end to it. Since it was the king’s desire and request, the knights separated at once.
Cligés sent for all his equipment, since he was to follow the king; he came as soon as he could to court, but not before he had dressed himself in the French style. No sooner had he reached court than everyone ran out to greet him, making much ado over him and showing more happiness at his coming than had ever before been seen, and all those who had been captured by him in the tournament addressed him as lord. He tried to deny this before them all, saying they might all be released from their pledges, if they truly thought and believed that it was he who had taken them prisoner.
They all responded as one: ‘We know it was you! We are honoured to know you and it is right for us to love and esteem you and call you lord, for there is none of us to equal you. Just as the sun outshines those tiny stars whose light can no longer be seen in the heavens when its rays appear, so our fame fades and dwindles before yours, though ours was once widely renowned throughout the world.’
Cligés did not know what to reply, for it seemed to him that they all praised him more than his due. But it both pleased and embarrassed him; the blood rose to his face, and they could see his embarrassment. Once they had escorted him through the great hall and brought him before the king, they finally ceased praising and extolling him.
By now it was time for the meal, so those whose duty it was hastened to set up the tables. Once the tables were placed in the palace, some took towels and others held the basins and offered water to those who approached. When all were washed and seated, the king took Cligés by the hand and had him sit across from him, for he greatly desired to learn more about this day, if he could. There is no point in speaking of the meal, for the courses were as copious as if cattle were a penny a head.
When they had finished all of the courses, the king broke his silence. ‘Friend,’ he said, ‘I wish to know whether it was out of pride that you did not deign to come to my court as soon as you arrived in this land, and why you kept apart from people and changed your armour. Tell me also your name and from what lineage you are descended.’
Cligés replied: ‘It shall not be hidden.’
He told the king everything he wished to know, and when the king had heard it, he embraced him and welcomed him joyfully; there was no one who was not happy to have him. My lord Gawain, too, heard his story and embraced and welcomed him even more than the others. But they all made him welcome, and everyone who spoke of him praised him for his beauty and valour. The king loved and honoured him above all his nephews. Cligés stayed with the king until early summer, accompanying him through all of Britain, and through France and Normandy, performing many deeds of chivalry and proving his worth in many ways.
But the wound of love within him did not lessen or heal and his heart’s desire was ever upon a single thought: he constantly remembered Fenice, who tormented his heart from afar. He was eager to return to her, for he had deprived himself for too long of the sight of the most desirable creature that anyone could ever long for, and he did not wish to deprive himself any longer. He made ready to return to Greece, took his leave, and set off. It was very sad for my lord Gawain and the king, I believe, not to be able to detain him longer.
He was impatient to return to the one he loved and desired; he hurried across land and sea, but the way seemed very long – so eager was he to see once more the one who had stolen and taken away his heart. But she restored, repaid, and made recompense in kind for her theft by giving him her heart, for she loved no less than he. But he was not sure of that, for there had been no promise or agreement, so he was in terrible anxiety. She, too, was in a pitiable state, tormented and slain by love, and finding no pleasure or delight in anything she had seen since the hour in which she last saw him. She did not even know if he was alive, which brought even more sorrow into her heart.
But each day brought Cligés closer, and he was blessed with a strong breeze without storms. Happily and in high spirits he came ashore near Constantinople. The news reached the city. This pleased the emperor, but a hundred times more so the empress – of this there can be no doubt!
In the return to Greece Cligés and his companions came right to the port of Constantinople. All the richest and noblest men came to the port to greet him. The emperor, with the empress beside him, came out in advance of his court to greet Cligés, and kissed and welcomed him in front of all the others. And when Fenice greeted him they both blushed, and it is a wonder that they were able to stand there so close to one another without embracing and kissing with kisses that would satisfy love; but that would have been folly and madness. People ran up from all sides, overjoyed to see him, and they all escorted him through the town, some on foot, some on horseback, right up to the imperial palace.
There will be no word h
ere of the celebrations, the rejoicing, and the services accorded him; but everyone there did their best to do whatever they thought and believed would be pleasing and agreeable to Cligés. His uncle turned over everything to him except his crown, urging him to take whatever it pleased him to possess, whether land or riches. But he had no desire for silver or gold, so long as he dares not tell his thoughts to her for whom he cannot rest. Yet he had occasion and opportunity to tell her, had he not been afraid of being rebuffed, because all day long he was able to see her and sit alone beside her without challenge or opposition, for no one suspected or saw any harm in it.
A long while after his return Cligés came alone one day into the room of her who was not his enemy. You may be sure that her door was not shut in his face! He rested on his elbow beside her and all the others moved away so that no one was sitting near enough to overhear what they said. Fenice first questioned him about Britain, asking him about my lord Gawain’s character and renown, until finally her words hit upon what she dreaded: she asked him if he had come to love any lady or maiden in that land.
Cligés was not slow or hesitant in answering, knowing what to reply as soon as she spoke: ‘My lady,’ he said, ‘I loved while there, but I loved no one who was from there. My body was in Britain without my heart, like a piece of bark without its heartwood. I don’t know what became of my heart after I left Germany, except that it followed you here. My heart was here and my body there. I was not really absent from Greece, since my heart came here, and that is why I’ve returned. But my heart has not returned to me and I cannot bring it back, nor would I want to if I could. And you – how has it fared with you since you came into this land? What happiness have you experienced here? Do you like the people? Do you like the land? I ought not to ask you more than whether the country pleases you.’
‘It did not please me before, but now I sense a certain joy and satisfaction which, I assure you, I would not want to lose for the riches of Pavia or Piacenza,17 for I cannot wrest my heart from it, nor would I ever use force to do so. Nothing of me but the bark is left, for my heart is gone and I’m living without it. Though I have never been to Britain, my heart has had some sort of business there without me.’
‘My lady, when was your heart there? Tell me the time and season that it went, if it is something that can properly be told to me or someone else. Was it there when I was there?’
‘Yes, though you did not know it. It was there as long as you were, and then it left with you.’
‘God! I never knew it was there, and never saw it. And if I had seen it, my lady, truly I would have kept it good company.’
‘You would have been a great comfort to me. And it is right you should have, for I would have been kind to your heart, had it been pleased to come where it knew I was.’
‘My lady, truly it did come to you.’
‘To me? Then it was not alone, for mine also sought you out.’
‘Then, my lady, according to what you say, our two hearts are here with us, for mine is wholly yours.’
‘And you, friend, have mine, so we are in perfect accord. And you must know, so help me God, that your uncle has never had a part of me, for it did not please me and he did not have the occasion. He has never yet known me as Adam knew his wife. I am wrongly called a wife, but I know that those who call me his wife do not realize that I am still a maid. Even your uncle does not know it, for he has drunk of a sleeping potion and he thinks he is awake when he is asleep, and he imagines he has all the sport with me he wants, as if I were lying in his arms; but I have shut him out.
‘My heart is yours and my body, too, is yours; and I will be an example of villainy to no one. For when my heart settled on you, it gave you my body as well, and promised that no one else would share in it. Love for you wounded me so deeply that I thought the sea would go dry before I healed. If I love you and you love me, you will never be called Tristan nor I Isolde, which would suggest that our love was not honourable. But I promise you that you will have no more solace from my love than you have now unless you can discover how to end my marriage and secrete me away from your uncle to where he could never find me again, in a way that he could not blame you or me or know whom to accuse. You must see to this tonight and tell me tomorrow the best plan you have devised, and I too will reflect on it. Come to speak with me early tomorrow, as soon as I am up, and we will lay out our plans and set about doing whichever we deem better.’
When Cligés heard her wishes, he agreed to everything and said that all would be well. He left her happy and went away happy himself, and that night each of them lay awake in bed delightedly devising the best plan possible. In the morning as soon as they awoke they met privately, as they had to.
Cligés spoke first and told what he had thought of in the night: ‘My lady,’ he said, ‘I am convinced that we could not do better than go to Britain; I thought I would take you there. Now please don’t refuse, for the joy in Troy when Paris brought Helen there could not compare to the joy that will be felt for you and me throughout the land of my great-uncle, the king. But if this does not suit you, tell me your thought, for I am ready, no matter what the consequences, to support your plan.’
Fenice replied: ‘I shall tell you: I will not run off with you like that, for then everyone would speak of us after we had left as they do of Isolde the Blonde and Tristan, and men and women everywhere would condemn our passion. No one would ever believe what really happened, nor should they. Who would believe that while still a maid I stole away and escaped from your uncle? I would be considered shameless and loose, and you would be taken for a fool. It is best to keep and observe the advice of Saint Paul: if you cannot remain pure, Saint Paul teaches you to conduct yourself with discretion, so that no one can criticize, blame, or reproach you.18 It is best to silence an evil tongue, and, if you’ve no objection, I believe I know a way to do so.
‘My plan is to pretend to die; before long I shall pretend to be sick, and you for your part should see to the construction of my tomb. Use your skill and attention to see that my tomb and coffin are built in such a way that I do not suffocate or die inside, and that no one will take any notice when you come at night to lift me from them. Find a place for me to hide afterwards where no one but you will see me, and let no one provide for any of my needs except you, to whom I give and entrust myself. Never in all my life do I wish to be served by any man but you. You will be my master and my servant; whatever you do for me will please me, and I will never again be mistress of an empire unless you are its lord. A simple place, dirty and dark, will be brighter to me than all these halls if you are there with me. If I can see you and have you with me, I will be a lady of limitless wealth and all the world will be mine. And if our plan is carried out discreetly, no harm will come of it and no one could ever speak ill of it, for throughout the empire it will be thought that I am rotting in the earth. Thessala, my most trustworthy nurse who raised me, will help me faithfully, for she is very artful and I have every confidence in her.’
After hearing his sweetheart, Cligés replied: ‘My lady, if this is feasible, and if you believe that your nurse’s advice is to be trusted, then we have only to make our preparations as quickly as possible. But if we fail to act prudently, then we are lost beyond hope. There is in this city an artisan who sculpts and carves with wondrous skill; he is known throughout the world for the images he has fashioned with brush and chisel. His name is John, and he’s my serf. No matter what the task, if John puts his mind to it no one can rival him, for by comparison all others are mere novices, like children with their nurse. The artists in Antioch and Rome have learned all they know by imitating his work. And there is no man more loyal than him. But now I’d like to test him, and if I find him true, I will free him and all his descendants. Nothing will keep me from telling him our plan, provided he will pledge his word and swear to help me loyally and never reveal my secret.’
‘Let it be as you say,’ she replied.
Having taken leave of her, Cligés
left the room and went off. Fenice sent for Thessala, her nurse, whom she had brought with her from the land of her birth. Thessala came at once, without hesitation or delay, though she did not know why she had been summoned. Discreetly she inquired what she wanted, what would be her pleasure, and Fenice did not hide or conceal the smallest detail of her plan.
‘Nurse,’ she said, ‘I know that whatever I tell you will not go beyond your lips, for I have tried you thoroughly before and always found you discreet. For all you have done for me I love you dearly. I come to you with all my troubles, never turning elsewhere for help. You are well aware that I cannot sleep, and what my thoughts and wishes are. There is only one thing my eyes see that brings me pleasure, but I will never find solace there unless I pay dearly for it first. I have found my kindred spirit: for if I desire him he too desires me, and if I suffer he too suffers for my grief and torment. Now I must reveal to you a plan and decision to which the two of us have privately agreed and given our consent.’
Then she told her that she wished to pretend to be ill, and said that her complaint would seem so bitter that in the end people would think she was dead. In the night Cligés will steal her away and they will be together all their days; otherwise it did not seem to her that she could bear to live. But if she were sure that Thessala would agree to help her, their wishes would become reality.
Arthurian Romances Page 26
