Four Arthurian Romances
place where he was asleep. Then she made so bold as to approach the
madman, so that she could touch and handle him: then taking the
ointment she rubbed him with it until none remained in the box, being
so solicitous for his recovery that she proceeded to anoint him all over
with it; and she used it so freely that she heeded not the warning of
her mistress, nor indeed did she remember it. She put more on than was
needed, but in her opinion it was well employed. She rubbed his temples
and forehead, and his whole body down to the ankles. She rubbed his
temples and his whole body so much there in the hot sunshine that the
madness and the depressing gloom passed completely out of his brain. But
she was foolish to anoint his body, for of that there was no need. If
she had had five measures of it she would doubtless have done the same
thing. She carries off the box, and takes hidden refuge by her horse.
But she leaves the robe behind, wishing that, if God calls him back to
life, he may see it all laid out, and may take it and put it on. She
posts herself behind an oak tree until he had slept enough, and was
cured and quite restored, having regained his wits and memory. Then he
sees that he is as naked as ivory, and feels much ashamed; but he would
have been yet more ashamed had he known what had happened. As it is, he
knows nothing but that he is naked. He sees the new robe lying before
him, and marvels greatly how and by what adventure it had come there.
But he is ashamed and concerned, because of his nakedness, and says that
he is dead and utterly undone if any one has come upon him there and
recognised him. Meanwhile, he clothes himself and looks out into the
forest to see if any one was approaching. He tries to stand up and
support himself, but cannot summon the strength to walk away, for his
sickness has so affected him that he can scarcely stand upon his feet.
Thereupon, the damsel resolves to wait no longer, but, mounting, she
passed close by him, as if unaware of his presence. Quite indifferent as
to whence might come the help, which he needed so much to lead him away
to some lodging-place, where he might recruit his strength, he calls out
to her with all his might. And the damsel, for her part, looks about
her as if not knowing what the trouble is. Confused, she goes hither and
thither, not wishing to go straight up to him. Then he begins to call
again: "Damsel, come this way, here!" And the damsel guided toward him
her soft-stepping palfrey. By this ruse she made him think that she knew
nothing of him and had never seen him before; in so doing she was wise
and courteous. When she had come before him, she said: "Sir knight, what
do you desire that you call me so insistently?" "Ah," said he, "prudent
damsel, I have found myself in this wood by some mishap--I know not
what. For God's sake and your belief in Him, I pray you to lend me,
taking my word as pledge, or else to give me outright, that palfrey
you are leading in your hand." "Gladly, sire: but you must accompany me
whither I am going." "Which way?" says he. "To a town that stands near
by, beyond the forest." "Tell me, damsel, if you stand in need of me."
"Yes," she says, "I do; but I think you are not very well. For the next
two weeks at least you ought to rest. Take this horse, which I hold in
my right hand, and we shall go to our lodging-place." And he, who had no
other desire, takes it and mounts, and they proceed until they come to a
bridge over a swift and turbulent stream. And the damsel throws into the
water the empty box she is carrying, thinking to excuse herself to her
mistress for her ointment by saying that she was so unlucky as to let
the box fall into the water for, when her palfrey stumbled under her,
the box slipped from her gasp, and she came near falling in too, which
would have been still worse luck. It is her intention to invent this
story when she comes into her mistress' presence. Together they held
their way until they came to the town, where the lady detained my lord
Yvain and asked her damsel in private for her box and ointment: and the
damsel repeated to her the lie as she had invented it, not daring to
tell her the truth. Then the lady was greatly enraged, and said: "This
is certainly a very serious loss, and I am sure and certain that the
box will never be found again. But since it has happened so, there is
nothing more to be done about it. One often desires a blessing which
turns out to be a curse; thus I, who looked for a blessing and joy from
this knight, have lost the dearest and most precious of my possessions.
However, I beg you to serve him in all respects." "Ah, lady, how wisely
now you speak! For it would be too bad to convert one misfortune into
two."
(Vv. 3131-3254.) Then they say no more about the box, but minister in
every way they can to the comfort of my lord Yvain, bathing him and
washing his hair, having him shaved and clipped, for one could have
taken up a fist full of hair upon his face. His every want is satisfied:
if he asks for arms, they are furnished him: if he wants a horse, they
provide him with one that is large and handsome, strong and spirited.
He stayed there until, upon a Tuesday, Count Alier came to the town with
his men and knights, who started fires and took plunder. Those in the
town at once rose up and equipped themselves with arms. Some armed and
some unarmed, they issued forth to meet the plunderers, who did not
deign to retreat before them, but awaited them in a narrow pass. My lord
Yvain struck at the crowd; he had had so long a rest that his strength
was quite restored, and he struck a knight upon his shield with such
force that he sent down in a heap, I think, the knight together with his
horse. The knight never rose again, for his backbone was broken and
his heart burst within his breast. My lord Yvain drew back a little to
recover. Then protecting himself completely with his shield, he spurred
forward to clear the pass. One could not have counted up to four before
one would have seen him cast down speedily four knights. Whereupon,
those who were with him waxed more brave, for many a man of poor and
timid heart, at the sight of some brave man who attacks a dangerous task
before his eyes, will be overwhelmed by confusion and shame, which will
drive out the poor heart in his body and give him another like to a
hero's for courage. So these men grew brave and each stood his ground in
the fight and attack. And the lady was up in the tower, whence she saw
the fighting and the rush to win and gain possession of the pass, and
she saw lying upon the ground many who were wounded and many killed,
both of her own party and of the enemy, but more of the enemy than of
her own. For my courteous, bold, and excellent lord Yvain made them
yield just as a falcon does the teal. And the men and women who had
remained within the town declared as they watched the strife: "Ah, what
a valiant knight! How he makes his enemies yield, and how fierce is his
attack! He was about him as a lion among the fallow deer, when he is
impelled by need and hunger. Then, too, all our other knights are more
brave and daring because of him, for, were it not for him alone, not a
lance would have been splintered nor a sword drawn to strike. When such
an excellent man is found he ought to be loved and dearly prized. See
now how he proves himself, see how he maintains his place, see how he
stains with blood his lance and bare sword, see how he presses the enemy
and follows them up, how he comes boldly to attack them, then gives
away and turns about; but he spends little time in giving away, and soon
returns to the attack. See him in the fray again, how lightly he esteems
his shield, which he allows to be cut in pieces mercilessly. Just see
how keen he is to avenge the blows which are dealt at him. For, if some
one should use all the forest of Argone [319] to make lances for him,
I guess he would have none left by night. For he breaks all the lances
that they place in his socket, and calls for more. And see how he
wields the sword when he draws it! Roland never wrought such havoc with
Durendal against the Turks at Ronceval or in Spain! [320] If he had in
his company some good companions like himself, the traitor, whose attack
we are suffering, would retreat today discomfited, or would stand his
ground only to find defeat." Then they say that the woman would be
blessed who should be loved by one who is so powerful in arms, and who
above all others may be recognised as a taper among candles, as a moon
among the stars, and as the sun above the moon. He so won the hearts of
all that the prowess which they see in him made them wish that he had
taken their lady to wife, and that he were master of the land.
(Vv. 3255-3340.) Thus men and women alike praised him, and in doing so
they but told the truth. For his attack on his adversaries was such
that they vie with one another in flight. But he presses hard upon their
heels, and all his companions follow him, for by his side they feel
as safe as if they were enclosed in a high and thick stone wall.
The pursuit continues until those who flee become exhausted, and the
pursuers slash at them and disembowel their steeds. The living roll
over upon the dead as they wound and kill each other. They work dreadful
destruction upon each other; and meanwhile the Count flees with my
lord Yvain after him, until he comes up with him at the foot of a steep
ascent, near the entrance of a strong place which belonged to the Count.
There the Count was stopped, with no one near to lend him aid; and
without any excessive parley my lord Yvain received his surrender. For
as soon as he held him in his hands, and they were left just man to
man, there was no further possibility of escape, or of yielding, or of
self-defence; so the Count pledged his word to go to surrender to the
lady of Noroison as her prisoner, and to make such peace as she might
dictate. And when he had accepted his word he made him disarm his head
and remove the shield from about his neck, and the Count surrendered to
him his sword. Thus he won the honour of leading off the Count as his
prisoner, and of giving him over to his enemies, who make no secret of
their joy. But the news was carried to the town before they themselves
arrived. While all come forth to meet them, the lady herself leads the
way. My lord Yvain holds his prisoner by the hand, and presents him to
her. The Count gladly acceded to her wishes and demands, and secured
her by his word, oath, and pledges. Giving her pledges, he swears to her
that he will always live on peaceful terms with her, and will make good
to her all the loss which she can prove, and will build up again the
houses which he had destroyed. When these things were agreed upon in
accordance with the lady's wish, my lord Yvain asked leave to depart.
But she would not have granted him this permission had he been willing
to take her as his mistress, or to marry her. But he would not allow
himself to be followed or escorted a single step, but rather departed
hastily: in this case entreaty was of no avail. So he started out to
retrace his path, leaving the lady much chagrined, whose joy he had
caused a while before. When he will not tarry longer she is the more
distressed and ill at ease in proportion to the happiness he had brought
to her, for she would have wished to honour him, and would have made
him, with his consent, lord of all her possessions, or else she would
have paid him for his services whatever sum he might have named. But he
would not heed any word of man or woman. Despite their grief he left the
knights and the lady who vainly tried to detain him longer.
(Vv. 3341-3484.) Pensively my lord Yvain proceeded through a deep wood,