Four Arthurian Romances
by crying for mercy, you need have little hope of saving your lives or
bodies. Go forth disarmed to meet the King, and tell him from me that
Alexander sends you to him. Your action will not be in vain; for my lord
the King is so gentle and courteous that he will lay aside his wrath and
anger. But if you wish to act otherwise, you must expect to die, for his
heart will be closed to pity." All agree in accepting this advice, and
do not hesitate until they come to the King's tent, where they all fall
at his feet. The story they told was soon known throughout the camp.
The King and all his men mounted and spurred their horses to the town
without delay.
(Vv. 2201-2248.) Alexander goes out from the town to meet the King, who
was greatly pleased, and to surrender to him the Count. The King did not
delay in fitly punishing him. But Alexander is congratulated and praised
by the King and all the others who esteem him highly. Their joy drives
away the grief which they had felt not long before. But no joy of the
others can compare with the exultation of the Greeks. The King presents
him with the precious cup, weighing fifteen marks, and tells him
confidently that there is nothing in his possession so valuable that he
would not place it in his hands upon request--save only the crown and
the Queen. Alexander dares not mention his heart's desire, though he
knows well that he would not be refused in asking for his sweetheart's
hand. But he fears so much lest he might displease her, whose heart
would have been made glad, that he prefers to suffer without her rather
than to win her against her will. Therefore, he asks for a little time,
not wishing to prefer his request until he is sure of her pleasure. But
he asked for no respite or delay in accepting the cup of gold. He takes
the cup, and courteously begs my lord Gawain to accept this cup as
a gift from him, which Gawain did most reluctantly. When Soredamors
learned the truth about Alexander she was greatly pleased and delighted.
When she heard that he was alive, she was so happy that it seemed to
her as though she could never be sad again. But she reflects that he is
slower in coming than is his wont. Yet in good time she will have her
wish, for both of them in rivalry are occupied with one common thought.
(Vv. 2249-2278.) It seemed to Alexander an age before he could feast
his eyes with even one soft glance from her. Long ago he would fain have
gone to the Queen's tent, if he had not been detained elsewhere. He was
much put out by this delay, and as soon as he could, he betook himself
to the Queen in her tent. The Queen went to greet him, and, without his
having confided in her, she had already read his thoughts, and knew what
was passing in his mind. She greets him at the entrance of the tent, and
strives to make him welcome, well knowing for what purpose he has come.
Desirous of according him a favour, she beckons Soredamors to join them,
and they three engage in conversation at some distance from the rest.
The Queen first speaks, in whose mind there was no doubt that this
couple were in love. Of this fact she is quite sure, and is persuaded
moreover that Soredamors could not have a better lover. She took her
place between the two and began to say what was appropriate.
(Vv. 2279-2310.) "Alexander," says the Queen, "any love is worse than
hate, when it torments and distresses its devotee. Lovers know not what
they do when they conceal their passion from one another. Love is a
serious business, and whoever does not boldly lay its foundation firm
can hardly succeed in completing the edifice. They say there is nothing
so hard to cross as the threshold. Now I wish to instruct you in the
lore of love; for I know well that Love is tormenting you. Therefore, I
have undertaken to instruct you; and do you take good care not to keep
anything back from me, for I have plainly seen in the faces of you both
that of two hearts you have made but one. So beware, and conceal nothing
from me! You are acting very foolishly in not speaking out your mind;
for concealment will be the death of you; thus you will be the murderers
of Love. Now I counsel you to exercise no tyranny, and to seek no
passing gratification in your love; but to be honourably joined together
in marriage. So, I believe, your love shall long endure. I can assure
you that, if you agree to this, I will arrange the marriage."
(Vv. 2311-2360.) When the Queen had spoken her mind, Alexander thus made
reply: "Lady," he says, "I enter no defence against the charge you make,
but rather admit the truth of all you say. I wish never to be deserted
by love, but always to fix my thoughts on it. I am pleased and delighted
by what you have so kindly said. Since you know what my wishes are, I
see no reason why I should conceal them from you. Long ago, if I had
dared I would have confessed them openly; for the silence has been hard.
But it may well be that for some reason this maiden may not wish that I
be hers and she mine. But even if she grant me no rights over her, yet
will I place myself in her hands." At these words she trembled, having
no desire to refuse the gift. Her heart's desire betrays itself in her
words and her countenance. Falteringly she gives herself to him, and
says that without exception her will, her heart, and her body all is at
the disposal of the Queen, to do with her as she may please. The Queen
clasps them both in her arms, and presents one to the other. Then
laughingly she adds: "I give over to thee, Alexander, thy sweetheart's
body, and I know that thy heart does not draw back. Whoever may like it
or like it not, I give each of you to the other. Do thou, Soredamors,
take what is thine, and thou, Alexander, take what is thine!" Now she
has her own entire, and he has his without lack. At Windsor that day,
with the approval and permission of my lord Gawain and the King, the
marriage was celebrated. No one could tell, I am sure, so much of the
magnificence and the food, of the pleasure and entertainment, at this
wedding without falling short of the truth. Inasmuch as it would be
distasteful to some, I do not care to waste further words upon the
matter, but am anxious to turn to another subject.
(Vv. 2361-2382.) That day at Windsor Alexander had all the honour and
happiness that he could desire. Three different joys and honours were
his: one was the town which he captured; another was the present of the
best kingdom in Wales, which King Arthur had promised to give him when
the war was over; that very day he made him king in his hall. But the
greatest joy of all was the third--that his sweetheart was queen of the
chess-board where he was king. Before five months had passed, Soredamors
found herself with child, and carried it until the time was fulfilled.
The seed remained in germ until the fruit was fully matured. No more
beautiful child was ever born before or since than he whom they now
called Cligés.
(Vv. 2383-2456.) So Cligés was born, in whose honour this story has
been put in the Romance tongue. You shall hear me tell of him and of his
valorous deeds, when he shall have grown to manhood and obtained a good
report. But meanwhile in Greece it came about that he who ruled over
Constantinople drew near his end. He died, as indeed he must, not being
able to outlive his time. But before he died he assembled all the nobles
of his land to send and seek for his son Alexander, who was happily
detained in Britain. The messengers start out from Greece, and begin
their voyage over the seas; but a tempest catches them in its grasp, and
damages their ship and company. They were all drowned at sea, except one
unfaithful wretch, who was more devoted to Alis the younger son than to
Alexander the eider. When he escaped from the sea, he returned to
Greece with the story that they had all been lost at sea as they were
conducting their lord back from Britain, and that he was the only
survivor of the tragedy. They believed this lie of his, and, taking Alis
without objection or dissent, they crowned him emperor of Greece. But
it was not long before Alexander learned that Alis was emperor. Then he
took leave of King Arthur, unwilling to let his brother usurp his land
without protest. The King makes no opposition to his plan, but bids him
take with him so great a company of Welshmen, Scots, and Cornishmen that
his brother will not dare to withstand him when he sees him come with
such a host. Alexander, had he pleased, might have led a mighty force;
but he has no desire to harm his own people, if his brother will consent
to do his will. He took with him forty knights besides Soredamors and
his son; these two persons, who were so dear to him, he did not wish
to leave behind. Escorted as far as Shoreham by the entire court, they
there embarked, and with fair winds their ship made way more quickly
than a fleeing stag. Within a month, I think, they arrived in port
before Athens, a rich and powerful city. Indeed, the emperor was
residing there, and had convoked, a great assembly of his noblemen. As
soon as they arrived Alexander sent a privy messenger into the city to
learn whether they would receive him, or whether they would resist his
claim to be their only lawful lord.
(Vv. 2457-2494.) He who was chosen for this mission was a courteous
knight with good judgment, named Acorionde, a rich man and eloquent;
he was a native of the country, too, having been born in Athens. His
ancestors for generations had always exercised lordship in the city.
When he had learned that the emperor was in the city he went and
challenged the crown on behalf of his brother Alexander, accusing him
openly of having usurped it unlawfully. Arriving at the palace, he finds
plenty of people who welcome him; but he says nothing to any of those
who greet him until he learns what is their attitude and disposition
toward their lawful lord. Coming into the presence of the emperor he
neither greets him nor bows before him nor calls him emperor. "Alis,"
he says, "I bring thee tidings of Alexander, who is out yonder in the
harbour. Listen to thy brother's message: he asks thee for what belongs
to him, nor does he demand what is unjust. Constantinople, which thou
dost hold, should be his and shall be his. It would be neither just nor
right that discord should arise between you two. So give him the crown
without contest, for it is right that thou shouldst surrender it."
(Vv. 2495-2524.) Alis replies: "Fair gentle friend, thou hast undertaken
a mad enterprise in bearing this message. There is little comfort in
thy speech, for well I know that my brother is dead. I should rejoice,
indeed, to learn that he was still alive. But I shall not believe the
news until I have seen him with my eyes. He died some time ago, alas!
What thou sayest is not credible. And if he lives, why does he not come?
He need never fear that I will not bestow on him some lands. He is a
fool to hold aloof from me, for in serving me he will find profit. But
no one shall possess the crown and empire beside me." He liked not the
speech of the emperor, and did not fail to speak his mind in the reply
he made. "Alis," he says, "may God confound me if the matter is thus
allowed to stand. I defy thee in thy brother's name, and dutifully
speaking in his name, I summon all those whom I see here to renounce
thee and to join his cause. It is right that they should side with him
and recognise him as their lord. Let him who is loyal now stand forth."
(Vv. 2525-2554.) Upon saying this he leaves the court, and the emperor
summons those in whom he has most confidence. He requests their advice
concerning this defiance upon his brother's part, and wishes to learn
if he can trust them to lend no support or help to his brother's claim.
Thus he tries to test the loyalty of each; but he finds not one who