Arthurian Romances

by Chretien de Troyes

  ‘Now I shall lead you away with me!’ he said. ‘Today’s fine sailing has brought my ship to sure harbour. Now my troubles are ended: after shipwreck I’ve reached port; after great trial, true happiness; after great pain, true health. At this moment all my wishes are fulfilled, since I’ve found you under escort and will be able to take you away with me now without incurring dishonour.’

  ‘Don’t be too confident,’ she said, ‘for I’m being escorted by this knight.’

  ‘Then you have poor protection indeed!’ said he. ‘I intend to take you at once. This knight would sooner eat a hogshead of salt, I believe, than dare to wrest you from me. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man I couldn’t defeat in order to possess you. Since I now have you here so opportunely, I intend to lead you away before his very eyes, in spite of anything he may do to try to stop me.’

  Our knight did not become angered by all the arrogant words he had heard but, without boasting or mockery, began to challenge him, saying: ‘Sir, don’t be too hasty and waste your words, but speak more reasonably. Your rights will not be denied you once you win them. But just remember that this girl has come here under my safekeeping. Now let her be; you’ve detained her far too long and, besides, she has no reason to be afraid of you.’

  The other declared that he would rather be burned alive than fail to carry her off in spite of her knight.

  ‘It would not be good were I to allow you to take her from me,’ he said. ‘Consider it settled: I must fight. But if we wish to do combat properly, we cannot by any means do it here on this path. Let’s go instead to a main road, or to a meadow or clearing.’

  The other replied that this suited him perfectly: ‘Indeed I grant your request, for you are quite right that this path is too narrow: my horse would be so hampered here that I’m afraid he’d break his leg before I could turn him about.’

  Then with very great effort, paying attention not to injure his steed, he managed to wheel about.

  ‘I’m very angered indeed that we’ve not met in an open place where other men could witness which of us fights better. But come along, let’s go and look; we’ll find a wide clearing nearby.’

  They rode until they reached a meadow in which there were knights, ladies, and ladies-in-waiting playing at many games, for the place was delightfully pleasant. Not all of them were occupied in idle sport; some were playing backgammon and chess, while others were occupied in various games of dice. Most were engaged in these diversions, though some others were playing at childhood games – rounds, dances and reels, singing, tumbling, and leaping. A few were testing their might in wrestling matches.

  Across the meadow from the others was an elderly knight mounted on a Spanish sorrel. His saddle and bridle were of gold, and his armour was of grey mesh. One hand was placed smartly on one of his hips as he watched the games and dances. Because of the warm weather, he was clad in his shirt, with a scarlet mantle trimmed with vair thrown over his shoulders. Opposite him, beside a path, were as many as twenty-three armed knights seated on good Irish steeds.

  As soon as the three riders neared them, they abandoned their merry-making, and their shouts could be heard through the meadows: ‘Look at that knight, just look! It’s the one who was driven in the cart. Let no one continue his play while he’s among us. Damned be anyone who seeks to amuse himself or dares to play as long as he is here!’

  While they were speaking in this manner, the old knight’s son (the one who loved the girl and already considered her his) approached his father and said: ‘Sir, I’m bursting with joy! Let anyone who wishes to hear this harken to it: God has granted me the one thing I have always most desired. He could not have rewarded me more if He had made me a crowned king, nor would I have been as grateful, nor would I have gained as much, for what I have been granted is fair and good.’

  ‘I’m not sure it’s been granted you yet,’ said the old knight to his son.

  ‘You’re not sure!’ snapped his son. ‘Can’t you see, then? By God, sir, how can you have any doubts when you see that I have her in my grasp? I met her just now as she was riding along in this forest from which I’ve just come. I believe God was bringing her to me, so I took her as my own.’

  ‘I’m not yet sure that that knight I see following you will agree to this. I think he’s coming to challenge you for her.’

  While these words were being exchanged, the others abandoned their dancing; they stopped their games and sport out of spite and hatred for the knight they saw approaching. And this knight unhesitatingly followed swiftly on the heels of the girl.

  ‘Knight,’ he said, ‘give up this girl, for you’ve no right to her. If you dare fight me, I’ll defend her against you here and now.’

  Then the old knight said: ‘Was I not right? My son, don’t keep the girl any longer; let her go.’

  The son was not at all pleased and swore that he would never give her up: ‘May God never again grant me joy if I give her up to him. I have her and intend to keep her as my own. Before I abandon her to him I’ll break my shield-strap and all its armlets; I’ll have abandoned all faith in my strength and weapons, in my sword and lance!’

  ‘I’ll not let you fight,’ retorted his father, ‘no matter what you say. You place too much faith in your own prowess. Now do as I order.’

  The son answered proudly: ‘Am I a child to be cowed? This is my boast: though there are many knights in this wide world there’s no one for as far as the sea stretches who is so mighty that I’d abandon her to him without a fight. I’m sure I can bring any knight to quick submission.’

  ‘I have no doubt, dear son,’ said his father, ‘that you believe this, so greatly do you trust in your own strength. But I do not consent and will not consent this day to have you test yourself against this knight.’

  ‘Were I to do as you say, I would be shamed,’ said the son. ‘May anyone who’d take your advice and abandon the field without a brave fight be damned! It is true when they said it’s bad business to deal with friends: it is better to trade elsewhere since you intend to cheat me. I can see that I could better test my courage in some far-off place, where no one would know me and attempt to dissuade me from my intention, as you do in seeking to bring me low. I am all the more fiercely determined because you have found fault with me; for as you well know, when anyone reproaches a person’s intent, this sparks and inflames him all the more. May God never again grant me joy if I should hesitate because of you. No, in spite of your wishes, I intend to fight!’

  ‘By the faith I owe the holy apostle Peter,’ said his father, ‘I can clearly see that pleading is to no avail. I’m wasting my time chastising you. But before long I’ll come up with a way to force you to do my will, whether you want to or not, for I’ll get the better of you.’

  At that he called all his knights. When they came to him, he ordered them to seize his son, who would pay no attention to him: ‘I’ll have him bound before I’ll let him fight. You are all my liegemen and owe me esteem and loyalty. By whatever you hold from me, respect my order and my wish. My son has acted rashly, it seems to me, and with unbridled pride in opposing my desires.’

  They answered that they would seize him and that he would never want to fight as long as they held him; and they said they would force him to release the girl in spite of his wishes. Then they all seized him by the arms and around the neck.

  ‘Now don’t you feel like a fool?’ asked his father. ‘Admit the truth: you no longer have the power to fight or joust and, no matter how much you might be upset, your feelings will do you no good now. Give in to what I want; you’ll do well to follow my advice. And do you know what I’m thinking? In order to lessen your disappointment, you and I, if you want, will follow this knight today and tomorrow, through the forest and across the plain, each of us on ambling steed. We might soon find him to be of the sort of character and bearing that I would permit you to fight him as you desire.’

  Then the son reluctantly agreed, for he had no choice. Seeing no other soluti
on, he said he would do it for his father, provided they both follow the knight. When the people gathered in the meadows saw this, they all said: ‘Did you see that? The knight who was in the cart has won such honour this day that he is leading away my lord’s son’s lady, and my lord permits it. We may truthfully say that he believes there is some merit in the man to let him lead her off. A hundred curses on anyone who stops his play on his account! Let’s return to our games!’

  Then they resumed their games and returned to their rounds and dances.

  The knight turned and rode out of the meadow at once. He took the girl with him and they set off purposefully. The son and father followed at a distance. Through a mowed field they rode until the hour of nones, when in a most picturesque setting they found a church with a walled crypt alongside the chancel. Being neither a boor nor fool, the knight entered the church on foot to pray to God; the girl looked after his horse until his return. When he had said his prayer and was returning, he saw an elderly monk coming directly towards him. As they met, the knight asked him politely to explain what was within the walls. The monk told him that there was a cemetery.

  ‘As God is your help, please take me there.’

  ‘Gladly, sir.’

  Then he led him into the crypt, among the most beautiful tombs that could be found from there to Dombes,14 or even to Pamplona. Upon each were carved letters forming the names of those who were to be buried in the tombs. The knight himself began to read through the list of names and discovered: HERE WILL LIE GAWAIN, HERE LIONEL, AND HERE YVAIN. After these three there were many resting places bearing the names of many fine knights, the most esteemed and greatest of this or any other land. Among the tombs he found one of marble, which seemed to be more finely worked than all the others.

  The knight called to the monk and asked: ‘What is the purpose of all these tombs here?’

  ‘You have seen the inscriptions,’ he replied. ‘If you have comprehended them well, then you know what they say and the meaning of the tombs.’

  ‘Tell me what that largest one is for?’

  ‘I will tell you all there is to know,’ the hermit replied. ‘This sarcophagus surpasses all others that have ever been made. Never has anyone seen a more elaborate or finely carved tomb; it is beautiful without and even more so within. But do not be concerned about that, for it can never do you any good and you will never see inside, because if anyone were to wish to open the tomb, he would need seven large and very strong men to open it, since it is covered by a heavy stone slab. You can be sure that to lift it would take seven men stronger than you or I. On it is a carved inscription that says: HE WHO WILL LIFT THIS SLAB BY HIS UNAIDED STRENGTH WILL FREE ALL THE MEN AND WOMEN WHO ARE IMPRISONED IN THE LAND WHENCE NO ONE RETURNS: SINCE FIRST THEY CAME HERE, NO CLERIC OR NOBLEMAN HAS BEEN FREED. FOREIGNERS ARE KEPT PRISONER, WHILE THOSE OF THIS LAND MAY COME AND GO AS THEY PLEASE.

  The knight went at once and seized hold of the slab and lifted it without the least difficulty, more easily than ten men could have done by putting their combined strength to the task. The monk was so astounded that he nearly fainted when he saw this marvel, for he never thought to see the like of it in all his life.

  ‘Sir,’ he said, ‘now I am most eager to know your name. Will you tell me?’

  ‘Upon my word, I will not,’ answered the knight.

  ‘Indeed, this weighs heavily upon me,’ said the other. ‘But to tell me would be a worthy action, and you could be rewarded well. Who are you? Where are you from?’

  ‘I am a knight, as you see, born in the Kingdom of Logres – I think that is enough. Now, if you please, it is your turn to tell me who will lie in this tomb.’

  ‘Sir, he who will free all those who are trapped in the kingdom from which none escape.’

  When the monk had told him all there was to know, the knight commended him to God and to all His saints, then returned to the girl as quickly as he could. The elderly, grey-haired monk accompanied him from the church till they reached the road. As the girl was remounting, the monk told her all that the knight had done inside and begged her to tell him his name, if she knew it. She assured him that she did not know it, but that one thing was certain: there was not a living knight his equal as far as the four winds blow.

  The girl left the monk and hurried after the knight. The two who had been following them arrived then and found the monk alone before the church. The old knight said: ‘Sir, tell us if you have seen a knight escorting a girl.’

  The monk answered: ‘It will be no trouble to tell you all I know, for they have just this moment left here. While the knight was inside he did a most marvellous thing by lifting the stone slab from the huge marble tomb, alone and with no effort at all. He is going to rescue the queen. There is no doubt that he will rescue her and all the other people with her. You, who have often read the inscription on the stone slab, well know that this is so. Truly no mortal knight who ever sat in a saddle was as worthy as he.’

  Then the father said to his son: ‘My son, what do you think? Is he not exceedingly bold to have performed such a deed? Now you can clearly tell whether it was you or I who was in the wrong. Not for all the wealth in Amiens would I have wanted you to fight with him. Yet you resisted mightily before you could be swayed from your purpose. Now we can return, for it would be madness to follow them further.’

  ‘I agree with that,’ replied his son, ‘we are wasting our time following him. Let us return since that is your wish.’

  He acted very wisely in turning back. The girl rode on beside the knight; she was eager to get him to pay attention to her and learn from him his name. Time and time again she begged and implored him until in his annoyance he said to her: ‘Did I not tell you that I’m from the Kingdom of Arthur? I swear by God and His might that you’ll not learn my name.’

  Then she asked him for leave to turn back, which he gladly granted. With that the girl left and the knight rode on alone until it was very late.

  After vespers, about the hour of compline, as he was riding along he saw a knight coming out of the woods after hunting. He had his helmet strapped on and the venison God had permitted him to take was tied over the back of his iron-grey hunter. This vavasour rode swiftly up to the knight and prayed him to accept lodging.

  ‘Sir,’ said he, ‘it will soon be night and is already past the time when it is reasonable to think of lodging. I have a manor house nearby where I will take you. I will do my best to lodge you better than you’ve ever been lodged before. I’ll be happy if you’ll accept.’

  ‘For my part, I’m delighted to accept,’ said the knight.

  The vavasour immediately sent his son ahead to make ready the house and hasten the supper preparations, and the youth loyally and willingly did as he was bidden, riding off rapidly. The others, in no hurry, continued their easy pace until they reached the house. This vavasour had married a very accomplished lady and was blessed with five much-beloved sons (three mere youths and two already knighted) as well as two beautiful and charming daughters, who were still unmarried. They were not natives of this land, but were held captive, having been imprisoned for a long while away from their homeland of Logres.

  As the vavasour led the knight into his courtyard, his wife ran forward to meet him, and his sons and daughters all hastened out and vied with one another to serve him. They greeted the knight and helped him dismount. The sisters and five brothers almost ignored their father, for they knew that he would want it so. They made the stranger welcome and honoured him. When they had relieved him of his armour, one of his host’s two daughters took her own mantle from her shoulders and placed it about his neck. I do not intend to give you any details about the fine dinner he was served; but after the meal they showed no reluctance to converse about many topics. First, the vavasour began to ask his guest who he was and from what land, but did not ask him his name.

  Our knight answered at once: ‘I am from the Kingdom of Logres and have never before been in this land.’

  When
the vavasour heard this, he and his wife and all his children were most astonished. They were all very upset and began to say to him: ‘Woe that you were ever here, good sir, for you will suffer for it: like us you will be reduced to servitude and exile.’

  ‘And where then are you from?’ the knight asked.

  ‘Sir, we are from your land. Many good men from your land are held in servitude in this country. Cursed be the custom, and those who promote it, that dictates that all foreigners who enter here must stay, prisoners in this land. Anyone who wishes may come in, but once here he must remain. Even for you there is no hope: I don’t think you’ll ever leave.’

  ‘Indeed I will,’ said he, ‘if I am able.’

  Then the vavasour said: ‘What! Do you believe you can escape?’

  ‘Yes, if God is willing. And I’ll do everything within my power.’

  ‘Then all the others would be able to leave without fear; for when one person can escape this imprisonment without trickery, all the others, I assure you, will be able to leave unchallenged.’

  The vavasour then remembered that he had been told that a knight of great goodness was coming boldly into the land to seek the queen, who was being held by Meleagant, the king’s son. He thought, ‘Indeed, I am quite convinced that this is he, I shall tell him so.’ Then he spoke: ‘Sir, do not hide your purpose from me. For my part I swear to give you the best counsel I know. I myself stand to gain by any success you might have. For your good and mine, tell me the truth. I am convinced that you came into this land to seek the queen among this heathen people, who are worse than Saracens.’

  ‘I came for no other purpose,’ replied the knight. ‘I do not know where my lady is imprisoned, but I am intent upon rescuing her and am thus in great need of counsel. Advise me if you can.’