Four Arthurian Romances
is left without the heart it cannot possibly live on. For such a marvel
was never seen as the body alive without the heart. Yet this marvel now
came about: for he kept his body without the heart, which was wont to be
enclosed in it, but which would not follow the body now. The heart has
a good abiding-place, while the body, hoping for a safe return to its
heart, in strange fashion takes a new heart of hope, which is so often
deceitful and treacherous. He will never know in advance, I think, the
hour when this hope will play him false, for if he overstays by single
day the term which he has agreed upon, it will be hard for him to gain
again his lady's pardon and goodwill. Yet I think he will overstay
the term, for my lord Gawain will not allow him to part from him, as
together they go to joust wherever tournaments are held. And as the year
passes by my lord Yvain had such success that my lord Gawain strove
to honour him, and caused him to delay so long that all the first year
slipped by, and it came to the middle of August of the ensuing year,
when the King held court at Chester, whither they had returned the day
before from a tournament where my lord Yvain had been and where he had
won the glory and the story tells how the two companions were unwilling
to lodge in the town, but had their tents set up outside the city, and
held court there. For they never went to the royal court, but the King
came rather to join in theirs, for they had the best knights, and the
greatest number, in their company. Now King Arthur was seated in their
midst, when Yvain suddenly had a thought which surprised him more than
any that had occurred to him since he had taken leave of his lady, for
he realised that he had broken his word, and that the limit of his
leave was already exceeded. He could hardly keep back his tears, but he
succeeded in doing so from shame. He was still deep in thought when
he saw a damsel approaching rapidly upon a black palfrey with white
forefeet. As she got down before the tent no one helped her to dismount,
and no one went to take her horse. As soon as she made out the King, she
let her mantle fall, and thus displayed she entered the tent and came
before the King, announcing that her mistress sent greetings to the
King, and to my lord Gawain and all the other knights, except
Yvain, that disloyal traitor, liar, hypocrite, who had deserted her
deceitfully. "She has seen clearly the treachery of him who pretended
he was a faithful lover while he was a false and treacherous thief. This
thief has traduced my lady, who was all unprepared for any evil, and
to whom it never occurred that he would steal her heart away. Those who
love truly do not steal hearts away; there are, however, some men,
by whom these former are called thieves, who themselves go about
deceitfully making love, but in whom there is no real knowledge of the
matter. The lover takes his lady's heart, of course, but he does not run
away with it; rather does he treasure it against those thieves who,
in the guise of honourable men, would steal it from him. But those are
deceitful and treacherous thieves who vie with one another in stealing
hearts for which they care nothing. The true lover, wherever he may go,
holds the heart dear and brings it back again. But Yvain has caused my
lady's death, for she supposed that he would guard her heart for her,
and would bring it back again before the year elapsed. Yvain, thou wast
of short memory when thou couldst not remember to return to thy mistress
within a year. She gave thee thy liberty until St. John's day, and thou
settest so little store by her that never since has a thought of her
crossed thy mind. My lady had marked every day in her chamber, as the
seasons passed: for when one is in love, one is ill at ease and cannot
get any restful sleep, but all night long must needs count and reckon
up the days as they come and go. Dost thou know how lovers spend their
time? They keep count of the time and the season. Her complaint is not
presented prematurely or without cause, and I am not accusing him in any
way, but I simply say that we have been betrayed by him who married
my lady. Yvain, my mistress has no further care for thee, but sends thee
word by me never to come back to her, and no longer to keep her ring.
She bids thee send it back to her by me, whom thou seest present here.
Surrender it now, as thou art bound to do."
(Vv. 2774-3230.) Senseless and deprived of speech, Yvain is unable to
reply. And the damsel steps forth and takes the ring from his finger,
commending to God the King and all the others except him, whom she
leaves in deep distress. And his sorrow grows on him: he feels oppressed
by what he hears, and is tormented by what he sees. He would rather be
banished alone in some wild land, where no one would know where to seek
for him, and where no man or woman would know of his whereabouts any
more than if he were in some deep abyss. He hates nothing so much as he
hates himself, nor does he know to whom to go for comfort in the death
he has brought upon himself. But he would rather go insane than not
take vengeance upon himself, deprived, as he is, of joy through his own
fault. He rises from his place among the knights, fearing he will lose
his mind if he stays longer in their midst. On their part, they pay no
heed to him, but let him take his departure alone. They know well enough
that he cares nothing for their talk or their society. And he goes away
until he is far from the tents and pavilions. Then such a storm broke
loose in his brain that he loses his senses; he tears his flesh and,
stripping off his clothes, he flees across the meadows and fields,
leaving his men quite at a loss, and wondering what has become of him.
[318] They go in search of him through all the country around--in the
lodgings of the knights, by the hedgerows, and in the gardens--but they
seek him where he is not to be found. Still fleeing, he rapidly pursued
his way until he met close by a park a lad who had in his hand a bow and
five barbed arrows, which were very sharp and broad. He had sense enough
to go and take the bow and arrows which he held. However, he had no
recollection of anything that he had done. He lies in wait for the
beasts in the woods, killing them, and then eating the venison raw. Thus
he dwelt in the forest like a madman or a savage, until he came upon a
little, low-lying house belonging to a hermit, who was at work clearing
his ground. When he saw him coming with nothing on, he could easily
perceive that he was not in his right mind; and such was the case, as
the hermit very well knew. So, in fear, he shut himself up in his little
house, and taking some bread and fresh water, he charitably set it
outside the house on a narrow window-ledge. And thither the other comes,
hungry for the bread which he takes and eats. I do not believe that he
ever before had tasted such hard and bitter bread. The measure of barley
kneaded with the straw, of which the bread, sourer than yeast, was made,
had not cost more than five sous; and the bread was musty and as dry
as bark. But hunger torments and whets his appetite, so that the
bread tasted to him like sauce. For hunger is itself a well mixed and
concocted sauce for any food. My lord Yvain soon ate the hermit's bread,
which tasted good to him, and drank the cool water from the jar. When he
had eaten, he betook himself again to the woods in search of stags and
does. And when he sees him going away, the good man beneath his roof
prays God to defend him and guard him lest he ever pass that way again.
But there is no creature, with howsoever little sense, that will not
gladly return to a place where he is kindly treated. So, not a day
passed while he was in this mad fit that he did not bring to his door
some wild game. Such was the life he led; and the good man took it upon
himself to remove the skin and set a good quantity of the venison to
cook; and the bread and the water in the jug was always standing on the
window-ledge for the madman to make a meal. Thus he had something to eat
and drink: venison without salt or pepper, and good cool water from the
spring. And the good man exerted himself to sell the hide and buy bread
made of barley, or oats, or of some other grain; so, after that, Yvain
had a plentiful supply of bread and venison, which sufficed him for
a long time, until one day he was found asleep in the forest by two
damsels and their mistress, in whose service they were. When they saw
the naked man, one of the three ran and dismounted and examined him
closely, before she saw anything about him which would serve to identify
him. If he had only been richly attired, as he had been many a time, and
if she could have seen him then she would have known him quickly enough.
But she was slow to recognise him, and continued to look at him until
at last she noticed a scar which he had on his face, and she recollected
that my lord Yvain's face was scarred in this same way; she was sure of
it, for she had often seen it. Because of the scar she saw that it was
he beyond any doubt; but she marvelled greatly how it came about that
she found him thus poor and stripped. Often she crosses herself in
amazement, but she does not touch him or wake him up; rather does
she mount her horse again, and going back to the others, tells them
tearfully of her adventure. I do not know if I ought to delay to tell
you of the grief she showed; but thus she spoke weeping to her mistress:
"My lady, I have found Yvain, who has proved himself to be the best
knight in the world, and the most virtuous. I cannot imagine what sin
has reduced the gentleman to such a plight. I think he must have had
some misfortune, which causes him thus to demean himself, for one may
lose his wits through grief. And any one can see that he is not in his
right mind, for it would surely never be like him to conduct himself
thus indecently unless he had lost his mind. Would that God had restored
to him the best sense he ever had, and would that he might then consent
to render assistance to your cause! For Count Alier, who is at war with
you, has made upon you a fierce attack. I should see the strife between
you two quickly settled in your favour if God favoured your fortunes
so that he should return to his senses and undertake to aid you in this
stress." To this the lady made reply: "Take care now! For surely, if he
does not escape, with God's help I think we can clear his head of all
the madness and insanity. But we must be on our way at once! For I
recall a certain ointment with which Morgan the Wise presented me,
saying there was no delirium of the head which it would not cure."
Thereupon, they go off at once toward the town, which was hard by, for
it was not any more than half a league of the kind they have in that
country; and, as compared with ours, two of their leagues make one and
four make two. And he remains sleeping all alone, while the lady goes
to fetch the ointment. The lady opens a case of hers, and, taking out a
box, gives it to the damsel, and charges her not to be too prodigal in
its use: she should rub only his temples with it, for there is no use of
applying it elsewhere; she should anoint only his temples with it, and
the remainder she should carefully keep, for there is nothing the matter
with him except in his brain. She sends him also a robe of spotted fur,
a coat, and a mantle of scarlet silk. The damsel takes them, and leads
in her right hand an excellent palfrey. And she added to these, of her
own store, a shirt, some soft hose, and some new drawers of proper cut.
With all these things she quickly set out, and found him still asleep
where she had left him. After putting her horse in an enclosure where
she tied him fast, she came with the clothes and the ointment to the