Arthurian Romances

by Chretien de Troyes

  Without waiting to hear more, his father answered these questions: ‘My son, all good men should honour and serve one who has shown himself worthy in this fashion, and keep his company.’

  Then his father cajoled him and urged him to say why he had asked this, what he was seeking, and from where he had come.

  ‘Sir, I don’t know whether you recall the terms of the agreement that was established when you made peace between Lancelot and myself. But you must remember, I’m sure, that in front of many witnesses we were both told to be ready in one year’s time to meet again at King Arthur’s court. I went there at the appointed time, armed and equipped for battle. I did all that was required of me: I sought Lancelot and inquired after him, for it was he I was to fight, but I was unable to find any trace of him. He had turned and fled! So I left after ensuring that Gawain had pledged his word that there would be no further delays: even if Lancelot is no longer alive and fails to return within the fixed term, Gawain himself has promised to fight me in his stead. Arthur has no knight more praiseworthy than Gawain, as is well known. But before elderberries blossom, I will see when we fight whether his deeds match his fame. The sooner we fight the better!’

  ‘Son,’ said his father, ‘now indeed you have shown yourself a fool to everyone here. Those who did not know it before have learned it now by your own words. It is the truth that a good heart is humble, but the fool and the braggart will never be rid of their folly. Son, I’m telling you this for your own good: your character is so hard and dry that there is no trace of gentility or friendship in you. You are filled with folly and your heart lacks all mercy. This is why I find fault with you; this will bring you down. If one is of noble heart, many will bear witness to it at the appropriate time; a gentleman need not praise his courage to magnify his act, for the act is its own best praise. Self-flattery does not enhance your renown at all; rather, it makes me esteem you the less. Son, I chastise you, but to what avail? Advice is of little use to a fool, and he who tries to rid a fool of his folly wastes his efforts. The goodness that one propounds, if it is not transformed into works, is wasted: wasted, lost, and gone for ever.’

  Meleagant was beside himself with fury and rage. I can assure you truthfully that no man alive was ever as full of wrath as he was; and in his anger the last bond between father and son was broken, for he did not mince words with his father, but said: ‘Are you dreaming or deluded to say that I am crazy to have told you of my triumph? I thought I’d come to you as to my lord, as to my father; but that doesn’t seem to be the case, and I feel you’ve treated me more odiously than I deserve. Nor can you give me any reason for having done so.’

  ‘Indeed I can.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘That I see nothing in you but lunacy and madness. I know only too well that heart of yours, which will yet bring you to great harm. Damned be anyone who could ever believe that Lancelot, this perfect knight who is esteemed by all but yourself, would ever flee out of fear of you! Perhaps he’s buried in his grave or locked up in some prison, whose gate is so tightly kept that he cannot leave without permission. I tell you I would be sorely upset if he were injured or dead. It would be a great loss indeed if a person so skilled, so handsome, so valiant, and so just were to perish before his time. May it please God that this not be so!’

  With these words Bademagu grew silent; but all that he had said had been heard and carefully noted by one of his daughters – the one I mentioned earlier in my story – and she was not at all pleased to hear such news of Lancelot. It was evident that he was being kept locked up, since no one had heard anything from him.

  ‘May God never have mercy upon me,’ she swore, ‘if I rest again before I know for certain what has become of him.’

  She noiselessly stole away and ran immediately to mount her elegant and sure-footed mule. For my part I can assure you that she had no idea which way to turn upon leaving the courtyard. Yet instead of inquiring, she took the first path she found. She rode swiftly along, uncertain of her destination, guided by chance, without servant or knightly escort. She sought far and wide in her eagerness to reach her goal, but her search was not destined to be brief. Yet she could not stop long in any one place if she wished to accomplish properly what she had set out to do: release Lancelot from prison if she could find him and manage it. And I believe that she will have traversed many a country before hearing anything of him. But what good is it for me to tell of her nightly lodgings and daily wanderings? She travelled on so many roads over mountains, through valleys, high and low, that a month or more passed without her having been able to learn more than she already knew, which was less than nothing.

  One day, as she was riding downcast and dejected through a field, she saw – in the distance, beside the shore, near an inlet–a tower: but for a league on any side there was not any house, or cabin, or hut. Meleagant had had it built in order to keep Lancelot, but his sister knew nothing of that. As soon as she saw it, she fixed her sights upon it and never turned away; and her heart promised her that this was what she had been seeking for so long. Now her search was ended; after many tribulations Fortune had guided her to the right path.

  The girl rode straight up to the tower, then circled it, listening carefully to see whether she might hear something that would bring her joy. She examined the tower from bottom to top and saw that it was tall and wide. But she was amazed to find no opening in it, except for a small and narrow window. Nor was there any stair or ladder to enter this high tower. She reasoned that this was deliberate and that therefore Lancelot was within, and she was determined to find out for sure or never eat again. She was going to call out his name and was about to say ‘Lancelot!’ when she heard a weak voice from within the tower that caused her to hold her tongue.

  The voice was filled with deepest doom and was calling for death. Lamenting piteously, it longed for death; in its suffering it asked only to die; life and its own body no longer held any value for it. Feebly, in a low and trembling voice, it lamented: ‘Ah, Fortune, how cruelly your wheel has now turned for me! Once I was on the top, but now I’ve been thrown down to the bottom; once I had everything, now I have nothing; once you wept to see me, now you laugh at me. Poor Lancelot, why did you trust in Fortune when she abandoned you so quickly? In no time at all she has cast you down from high to low. By mocking me, Fortune, you behave despicably – but what do you care? All has come to naught, no matter what. Ah! Holy Cross, Holy Spirit! I am lost! I am damned! How totally destroyed I am!

  ‘Ah, most worthy Gawain, unequalled in goodness, how I marvel that you’ve not come to rescue me! Certainly you are unchivalrous to have delayed so long. You should come to the aid of one you once loved so dearly. Indeed, I can say with certainty that there’s nowhere so hidden or secluded on either side of the sea that I would not have spent seven years, or even ten, to seek out had I known you to be imprisoned there. But why am I bothering with this? You are not brave enough to expose yourself to hardship on my account. Peasants are right to say that it’s hard to find a good friend any more: in times of trial it is easy to test one’s friends. Alas! I’ve been a prisoner for over a year now, and you are a faithless friend indeed, Gawain, to have left me to languish here so long.

  ‘Yet if you don’t know that I’m imprisoned here, then it’s unfair of me to accuse you so. Indeed that must be the case, I’m sure of it now! And I was wrong and unreasonable to have such thoughts, for I know that you and your men would have searched to the ends of the earth to release me from this evil confinement, had you only known the truth. And you would do it out of the love and friendship you bear me; yes, this is what I truly believe. But I’m wasting my breath. It can never happen! May Meleagant, who has brought me to this shame, be damned by God and Saint Sylvester! Out of envy he has done me all the evil he could conceive: he’s surely the most wicked man alive!’

  Then he said no more and grew silent, as grief gnawed away at his life. But the girl, who was staring at the ground as she listened to everythi
ng he said, knew now that her search was ended. She hesitated no more, but shouted ‘Lancelot!’ with all her strength and more. ‘My friend in the tower there, speak to one who loves you.’

  But the one within was too weak to hear her. She shouted louder, and louder still, until Lancelot with his last bit of strength heard her and wondered who could be calling him. Though he knew he was being called, still he did not recognize the voice; he thought perhaps it was some ghost. He looked all about him, but saw only himself and the tower walls.

  ‘My God,’ he wondered, ‘what am I hearing? I hear words but I see nothing. This is truly amazing! Yet I’m awake and not asleep. If it were a dream, I would probably think it was false imagining; but I’m awake, and therefore it troubles me.’

  Then with great effort Lancelot arose and moved slowly, step by step, towards the tiny aperture. When he reached it, he wedged his body in, filling it from top to bottom and side to side. He looked out as best he could and finally saw the girl who had called to him. Though he could see her, he did not recognize her. She, however, knew him at once and said: ‘Lancelot, I have come from afar seeking you. Now, thank God, my search is ended, for I have found you. I am the one who asked a favour of you as you were going to the Sword Bridge. You granted it to me willingly when I requested it: I asked for the head of the defeated knight, because I bore him no love. For that boon and that service I have exposed myself to these hardships; because of them I’ll release you from here!’

  ‘My thanks to you,’ said the prisoner upon hearing her words. ‘The service I did you will be well repaid if I am freed from this place. If you are able to free me, I swear to you that with the aid of the Apostle Paul I will be yours from this day forth. As God is my witness, the day will never come when I fail to do whatever you are pleased to request of me. All that you ask from me you shall have immediately, if it is mine to give.’

  ‘Have no doubt, my friend, that you will be set free this very day. I would not leave, not even for a thousand pounds, without seeing you released before daybreak. Afterwards I will provide you with rest, comfort, and repose: whatever I have that is pleasing, if you want it, will be given to you. Don’t be worried: I must leave you for a short while to find some implement to enlarge this opening enough so that you can escape through it.’

  ‘May God help you find it,’ he said in heartfelt agreement. ‘Here inside I have plenty of rope, which the soldiers gave me to haul up my food – stale barley bread and stagnant water that have ruined my health and spirit!’

  Then King Bademagu’s daughter found a solid pickaxe, as strong as it was sharp. She brought it to Lancelot, who in spite of his weakened body hammered and pounded and struck and dug until he was able to crawl out easily. How very relieved and happy he was – you can be sure – to be out of that prison and able to leave that place where he had been confined for so long. At last he was free and at large, and even if all the gold in the world were gathered together and piled as high as a mountain and offered to him, he would never have chosen to go back in.

  Now Lancelot was free, but he was still so weak that he staggered feebly. Gently, so as not to cause him injury, the girl helped him mount in front of her on her mule, and they set off in great haste. She kept off the main roads, deliberately, so that they would not be seen. They rode on cautiously, fearful that if they travelled openly someone might recognize them and do them harm, and this she was anxious to prevent. Therefore she avoided narrow passes, and they finally reached a retreat where she had often stayed because of its beauty and charm. The castle and its occupants were all in her service; the place was well-equipped, secure, and very private. There Lancelot would be safe. As soon as he arrived, she had him undressed and allowed him to stretch gently out upon a beautiful, thickly cushioned couch. She then bathed and cared for him so well that I could not tell you half of all the good she did. She handled and treated him as gently as she would her own father, completely reviving and healing him and giving him new life. No longer was he starved and weak: soon he was strong and fair, no less handsome than an angel, and able to stand. When he arose, the girl found him the most beautiful robe she had and dressed him in it. Lancelot slipped it on with more joy and grace than a bird in flight.

  He kissed and embraced the girl, then said to her fondly: ‘My dear friend, to God and to you alone I give thanks for being healed and healthy. Because you have made possible my escape, I give you my heart, my body, my service, and my possessions to take and keep whenever you wish. For all that you have done, I am yours. Yet I have been absent now for a long while from the court of King Arthur, who has honoured me greatly, and I have much still to do there. Therefore, my sweet noble friend, I must beg your leave with love. If it is pleasing to you, I am most eager to go there.’

  ‘Beloved Lancelot, good gentle friend,’ replied the girl. ‘I grant your request, for I seek only what is for your honour and good, both now and for ever.’

  She gave him the most marvellous horse that anyone had ever seen, and he leapt swiftly into the saddle without even touching the stirrups. When he had mounted, they heartily commended one another to the ever-truthful God. Lancelot set off on his way, so overjoyed that, I swear, nothing I could ever say would convey to you how happy he was to have escaped from that place where he had been imprisoned. He repeated over and over to himself that that despicable traitor who had held him prisoner was about to become the victim of his own deceits and be damned by his own doing.

  ‘I am free in spite of him!’ exclaimed Lancelot. Then he swore by the heart and body of the Creator of this world that Meleagant would never escape with his life if he ever succeeded in overpowering and capturing him: no, not for all the riches from Cairo to Ghent. He had been too deeply shamed.

  And it was to come to pass that Lancelot would avenge himself, for this very Meleagant, whom he had been threatening and was eager to encounter, had reached the court this same day without having been summoned. Upon his arrival he sought out and found my lord Gawain. Then the evil, proven traitor inquired whether Lancelot had been found or seen – as if he himself knew nothing of him! (And he did not, in fact, although he thought that he did.) Gawain replied truthfully that he had not seen him, nor had he come to court since Meleagant had last been there.

  ‘Since it is you whom I have found here,’ said Meleagant, ‘come forward and keep your promise to me. I will wait for you no longer.’

  ‘If it is pleasing to God, in whom I place my trust,’ answered Gawain, ‘I shall shortly keep my promise to you. I am confident that I shall acquit myself well. It is like casting dice; and with God and Saint Foy on my side, I shall cast more points than you, and before it’s over I shall pocket all the wagers.’

  Then Gawain ordered a carpet to be spread out before him. His squires quickly did as he commanded, carrying out his bidding without complaint or question. After they had taken the carpet and placed it where he had ordered, Gawain stepped upon it at once and summoned three young men in his suite, still unarmed themselves, to bring him his armour. These young men were his cousins or nephews, I’m not sure which, and were truly brave and well-bred. The three youths armed him so fittingly that no one in the world could have found fault with anything they did. After arming him, one among them went to fetch a Spanish warhorse, which could run more swiftly through open field and woodland, over hill and dale, than the fine Bucephalus.26 The renowned and worthy Gawain, the most skilled knight ever to be blessed by the sign of the Cross, mounted his magnificent steed. He was about to grasp his shield when completely unexpectedly he beheld Lancelot dismounting in front of him.

  Lancelot had appeared so suddenly that Gawain stared in wonder at him, and I do not exaggerate when I tell you that he was as astonished as if Lancelot had just fallen at his feet from a cloud. When he saw that it was indeed Lancelot, no other obligation could have kept Gawain, too, from dismounting and going forth to welcome him with outstretched arms. Gawain greeted him, then embraced and kissed him; he was filled with joy and rel
ieved at having found his companion. You must never doubt me when I assure you that Gawain would not have wanted to be chosen king, there and then, if it meant losing Lancelot.

  Soon King Arthur and everyone at court knew that Lancelot, whom they had been seeking for so long, had returned safe and sound – to the great displeasure of one among them. The court, which had long been anxious about him, came together in full assembly to celebrate his return. Young and old alike rejoiced in his presence. Joy dissipated and obliterated the grief that had reigned there; grief fled and joy appeared, eagerly beckoning again to everyone. And was the queen not there amid all this joy? Indeed she was, and among the first. Heavens, where else would she be? Never had she experienced greater joy than what she felt now at his return – how could she have stayed away? To tell the truth, she was so near him that she could scarcely restrain her body (and nearly didn’t!) from following her heart to him. Where then was her heart? Welcoming Lancelot with kisses. Why then was the body reticent? Was her joy not complete? Was it laced with anger or hatred? No indeed, not in the least; rather, she hesitated because the others present – the king and his entourage, who could see everything – would immediately perceive her love if, in sight of all, she were to do everything her heart desired. And if Reason had not subdued these foolish thoughts and this love-madness, everyone present would have understood her feelings. O, height of folly! In this way Reason encompassed and bound her foolish heart and thoughts, and brought her to her senses, postponing the full display of her affections until she could find a better and more private place where they might reach a safer harbour than they would have now.

  The king did Lancelot every honour and, when he had welcomed him properly, said: ‘My friend, in many a year I’ve not heard such welcome news of anyone as that of you today. But I have no idea what land you’ve been in for so long. I’ve had you sought high and low all winter and all summer yet you were nowhere to be found.’