Four Arthurian Romances
[Footnote 232: This commonplace remark is quoted as a proverb of the
rustic in "Ipomedon", 1671-72; id., 10, 348-51; "Roman de Mahomet",
1587-88; "Roman de Renart", vi. 85-86; Gower's "Mirour de l'omme", 28,
599, etc.]
[Footnote 233: It is curious to note that Corneille puts almost
identical words in the mouth of Don Gomes as he addresses the Cid ("Le
Cid", ii. 2).]
[Footnote 234: For this tournament and its parallels in folk-lore,
see Miss J.L. Weston, "The Three Days' Tournament" (London, 1902). She
argues (p. 14 f. and p. 43 f.) against Foerster's unqualified opinion of
the originality of Chrétien in his use of this current description of
a tournament, an opinion set forth in his "Einleitung to Lancelot", pp.
43, 126, 128, 138.]
[Footnote 235: Note that Chrétien here deliberately avoids such a list
of knights as he introduces in "Erec". (F.)]
[Footnote 236: It must be admitted that the text, which is offered
by all but one MS., is here unintelligible. The reference, if any be
intended, is not clear. (F.)]
[Footnote 237: Much has been made of this expression as intimating that
Chrétien wrote "Cligés" as a sort of disavowal of the immorality of
his lost "Tristan". Cf. Foerster, "Cligés" (Ed. 1910), p. xxxix f., and
Myrrha Borodine, "La femme et l'amour au XXIe Seicle d'apres les poemes
de Chrétien de Troyes" (Paris, 1909). G. Paris has ably defended another
interpretation of the references in "Cligés" to the Tristan legend in
"Journal des Savants", 1902, p. 442 f.]
[Footnote 238: This curious moral teaching appears to be a perversion
of three passages form St. Paul's Epistles: I Cor. vii. 9, I Cor. x. 32,
Eph. v. 15. Cf. H. Emecke, "Chrétien von Troyes als Personlichkeit und
als Dichter" (Wurzburg, 1892).]
[Footnote 239: "This feature of a woman who, thanks to some charm,
preserves her virginity with a husband whom she does not love, is found
not only in widespread stories, but in several French epic poems. In
only one, "Les Enfances Guillaume", does the husband, like Alis, remain
ignorant of the fraud of which he is the victim, and think that he
really possesses the woman.... If Chrétien alone gave to the charm
of the form of a potion, it is in imitation of the love potion in
"Tristan". (G. Paris in "Journal des Savants", 1902, p. 446). For
many other references to the effect of herb potions, cf. A. Hertel,
"Verzauberte Oerlichkeiten und Gegenstande in der altfranzosische
erzahlende Dichtung", p. 41 ff. (Hanover, 1908).]
[Footnote 240: I have pointed out the curious parallel between the
following passage and Dante's "Vita Nova", 41 ("Romantic Review", ii.
2). There is no certain evidence that Dante knew Chrétien's work (cf. A.
Farinelli, "Dante e la Francia", vol. i., p. 16 note), but it would be
strange if he did not know such a distinguished predecessor.]
[Footnote 241: For the legend of Solomon deceived by his wife, see
Foerster "Cligés" (ed. 1910), p. xxxii. f., and G. Paris in "Romania",
ix. 436-443, and in "Journal des Savants", 1902, p. 645 f. For an
additional reference, add "Ipomedon", 9103.]
[Footnote 242: For an imitation of the following scene, see Hans Herzog
in "Germania", xxxi. 325.]
[Footnote 243: "Porz d'Espaingne" refers to the passes in the Pyrenees
which formed the entrance-ways to Spain. Cf. The "Cilician Gates" in
Xenophon's "Anabasis".]
[Footnote 244: Chrétien here insists upon his divergence from the
famous dictum attributed to the Countess Marie de Champagne by Andre le
Chapelain: "Praeceptum tradit amoris, quod nulla etiam coniugata regis
poterit amoris praemio coronari, nisi extra coniugii foedera ipsius
amoris militae cernatur adiuneta". (Andreae Capellini, "De Amore", p.
154; Ed. Trojel, Havniae, 1892).
YVAIN
or, The Knight with the Lion
(Vv. 1-174.) Arthur, the good King of Britain, whose prowess teaches us
that we, too, should be brave and courteous, held a rich and royal
court upon that precious feast-day which is always known by the name
of Pentecost. [31] The court was at Carduel in Wales. When the meal was
finished, the knights betook themselves whither they were summoned by
the ladies, damsels, and maidens. Some told stories; others spoke of
love, of the trials and sorrows, as well as of the great blessings,
which often fall to the members of its order, which was rich and
flourishing in those days of old. But now its followers are few, having
deserted it almost to a man, so that love is much abased. For lovers
used to deserve to be considered courteous, brave, generous, and
honourable. But now love is a laughing-stock, for those who have no
intelligence of it assert that they love, and in that they lie. Thus
they utter a mockery and lie by boasting where they have no right. [32]
But let us leave those who are still alive, to speak of those of former
time. For, I take it, a courteous man, though dead, is worth more than
a living knave. So it is my pleasure to relate a matter quite worthy of
heed concerning the King whose fame was such that men still speak of him
far and near; and I agree with the opinion of the Bretons that his name
will live on for evermore. And in connection with him we call to mind
those goodly chosen knights who spent themselves for honour's sake. But
upon this day of which I speak, great was their astonishment at seeing
the King quit their presence; and there were some who felt chagrined,
and who did not mince their words, never before having seen the King, on
the occasion of such a feast, enter his own chamber either to sleep or
to seek repose. But this day it came about that the Queen detained him,
and he remained so long at her side that he forgot himself and fell
asleep. Outside the chamber door were Dodinel, Sagremor, and Kay, my
lord Gawain, my lord Yvain, and with them Calogrenant, a very comely
knight, who had begun to tell them a tale, though it was not to his
credit, but rather to his shame. The Queen could hear him as he told his
tale, and rising from beside the King, she came upon them so stealthily
that before any caught sight of her, she had fallen, as it were, right
in their midst. Calogrenant alone jumped up quickly when he saw her
come. Then Kay, who was very quarrelsome, mean, sarcastic, and abusive,
said to him: "By the Lord, Calogrenant, I see you are very bold and
forward now, and certainly it pleases me to see you the most courteous
of us all. And I know that you are quite persuaded of your own
excellence, for that is in keeping with your little sense. And of course
it is natural that my lady should suppose that you surpass us all in
courtesy and bravery. We failed to rise through sloth, forsooth, or
because we did not care! Upon my word, it is not so, my lord; but we
did not see my lady until you had risen first." "Really, Kay," the Queen
then says, "I think you would burst if you could not pour out the poison
of which you are so full. You are troublesome and mean thus to annoy
your companions." "Lady," says Kay, "if we are not better for your
company, at least let us not lose by it. I am not aware that I said
anything for which I ought to be accused, and so I pray you say no more.
It is impolite and foolish to keep up a vain dispute. This argument
should go no further, nor should any one try to make more of it. But
since there must be no more high words, command him to continue the tale
he had begun." Thereupon Calogrenant prepares to reply in this fashion:
"My lord, little do I care about the quarrel, which matters little and
affects me not. If you have vented your scorn on me, I shall never be
harmed by it. You have often spoken insultingly, my lord Kay, to braver
and better men than I, for you are given to this kind of thing. The
manure-pile will always stink, [33] and gadflies sting, and bees will
hum, and so a bore will torment and make a nuisance of himself. However,
with my lady's leave, I'll not continue my tale to-day, and I beg her
to say no more about it, and kindly not give me any unwelcome command."
"Lady," says Kay, "all those who are here will be in your debt, for they
are desirous to hear it out. Don't do it as a favour to me! But by the
faith you owe the King, your lord and mine, command him to continue, and
you will do well." "Calogrenant," the Queen then says, "do not mind the
attack of my lord Kay the seneschal. He is so accustomed to evil speech
that one cannot punish him for it. I command and request you not to
be angered because of him, nor should you fail on his account to say
something which it will please us all to hear; if you wish to preserve
my good-will, pray begin the tale anew." "Surely, lady, it is a very
unwelcome command you lay upon me. Rather than tell any more of my
tale to-day, I would have one eye plucked out, if I did not fear your
displeasure. Yet will I perform your behest, however distasteful it may
be. Then since you will have it so, give heed. Let your heart and ears
be mine. For words, though heard, are lost unless understood within the
heart. Some men there are who give consent to what they hear but do not
understand: these men have the hearing alone. For the moment the heart
fails to understand, the word falls upon the ears simply as the wind
that blows, without stopping to tarry there; rather it quickly passes on
if the heart is not so awake as to be ready to receive it. For the heart
alone can receive it when it comes along, and shut it up within. The
ears are the path and channel by which the voice can reach the heart,
while the heart receives within the bosom the voice which enters through
the ear. Now, whoever will heed my words, must surrender to me his heart
and ears, for I am not going to speak of a dream, an idle tale, or lie,
with which many another has regaled you, but rather shall I speak of
what I saw."
(Vv. 175-268.) "It happened seven years ago that, lonely as a
countryman, I was making my way in search of adventures, fully armed
as a knight should be, when I came upon a road leading off to the right
into a thick forest. The road there was very bad, full of briars and
thorns. In spite of the trouble and inconvenience, I followed the road
and path. Almost the entire day I went thus riding until I emerged from
the forest of Broceliande. [34] Out from the forest I passed into the
open country where I saw a wooden tower at the distance of half a Welsh
league: it may have been so far, but it was not anymore. Proceeding
faster than a walk, I drew near and saw the palisade and moat all round
it, deep and wide, and standing upon the bridge, with a moulted falcon
upon his wrist, I saw the master of the castle. I had no sooner saluted
him than he came forward to hold my stirrup and invited me to
dismount. I did so, for it was useless to deny that I was in need of a
lodging-place. Then he told me more than a hundred times at once that
blessed was the road by which I had come thither. Meanwhile, we crossed
the bridge, and passing through the gate, found ourselves in the
courtyard. In the middle of the courtyard of this vavasor, to whom may
God repay such joy and honour as he bestowed upon me that night, there
hung a gong not of iron or wood, I trow, but all of copper. Upon this
gong the vavasor struck three times with a hammer which hung on a post
close by. Those who were upstairs in the house, upon hearing his voice
and the sound, came out into the yard below. Some took my horse which
the good vavasor was holding; and I saw coming toward me a very fair and
gentle maid. On looking at her narrowly I saw she was tall and slim and
straight. Skilful she was in disarming me, which she did gently and with
address; then, when she had robed me in a short mantle of scarlet stuff
spotted with a peacock's plumes, all the others left us there, so that
she and I remained alone. This pleased me well, for I needed naught