Four Arthurian Romances
(Vv. 4385-4474.) Thus they were bemoaning their fate; and my lord Yvain
who was in their midst, heard their complaints, which were neither
groundless nor assumed. He saw Lunete on her knees and stripped to her
shift, having already made confession, and besought God's mercy for her
sins. Then he who had loved her deeply once came to her and raised her
up, saying: "My damsel, where are those who blame and accuse you? Upon
the spot, unless they refuse, battle will be offered them." And she, who
had neither seen nor looked at him before, said: "Sire, you come from
God in this time of my great need! The men who falsely accuse me are all
ready before me here; if you had been a little later I should soon have
been reduced to fuel and ashes. You have come here in my defence,
and may God give you the power to accomplish it in proportion as I am
guiltless of the accusation which is made against me!" The seneschal and
his two brothers heard these words. "Ah!" they exclaim, "woman, chary
of uttering truth but generous with lies! He indeed is mad who for thy
words assumes so great a task. The knight must be simple-minded who has
come here to die for thee, for he is alone and there are three of us. My
advice to him is that he turn back before any harm shall come to him."
Then he replies, as one impatient to begin: "Whoever is afraid, let him
run away! I am not so afraid of your three shields that I should go off
defeated without a blow. I should be indeed discourteous, if, while yet
unscathed and in perfect case, I should leave the place and field to
you. Never, so long as I am alive and sound, will I run away before
such threats. But I advise thee to set free the damsel whom thou hast
unjustly accused; for she tells me, and I believe her word, and she has
assured me upon the salvation of her soul, that she never committed,
or spoke, or conceived any treason against her mistress. I believe
implicitly what she has told me, and will defend her as best I can, for
I consider the righteousness of her cause to be in my favour. For, if
the truth be known, God always sides with the righteous cause, for God
and the Right are one; and if they are both upon my side, then I have
better company and better aid than thou." [323] Then the other responds
imprudently that he may make every effort that pleases him and is
convenient to do him injury, provided that his lion shall not do him
harm. And he replies that he never brought the lion to champion his
cause, nor does he wish any but himself to take a hand: but if the lion
attacks him, let him defend himself against him as best he can, for
concerning him he will give no guarantee. Then the other answers:
"Whatever thou mayst say; unless thou now warn thy lion, and make him
stand quietly to one side, there is no use of thy longer staying here,
but begone at once, and so shalt thou be wise; for throughout this
country every one is aware how this girl betrayed her lady, and it is
right that she receive her due reward in fire and flame." "May the Holy
Spirit forbid!" says he who knows the truth; "may God not let me
stir from here until I have delivered her!" Then he tells the lion to
withdraw and to lie down quietly, and he does so obediently.
(Vv. 4475-4532.) The lion now withdrew, and the parley and quarrel being
ended between them two, they all took their distance for the charge. The
three together spurred toward him, and he went to meet them at a walk.
He did not wish to be overturned or hurt at this first encounter. So he
let them split their lances, while keeping his entire, making for them a
target of his shield, whereon each one broke his lance. Then he galloped
off until he was separated from them by the space of an acre; but he
soon returned to the business in hand, having no desire to delay. On
his coming up the second time, he reached the seneschal before his two
brothers, and breaking his lance upon his body, he carried him to earth
in spite of himself, and he gave him such a powerful blow that for a
long while he lay stunned, incapable of doing him any harm. And then the
other two came at him with their swords bared, and both deal him great
blows, but they receive still heavier blows from him. For a single one
of the blows he deals is more than a match for two of theirs; thus he
defends himself so well that they have no advantage over him, until the
seneschal gets up and does his best to injure him, in which attempt the
others join, until they begin to press him and get the upper hand. Then
the lion, who is looking on, delays no longer to lend him aid; for it
seems to him that he needs it now. And all the ladies, who are devoted
to the damsel, beseech God repeatedly and pray to Him earnestly not to
allow the death or the defeat of him who has entered the fray on her
account. The ladies, having no other weapons, thus assist him with their
prayers. And the lion brings him such effective aid, that at his first
attack, he strikes so fiercely the seneschal, who was now on his feet,
that he makes the meshes fly from the hauberk like straw, and he drags
him down with such violence that he tears the soft flesh from his
shoulder and all down his side. He strips whatever he touches, so that
the entrails lie exposed. The other two avenge this blow.
(Vv. 4533-4634.) Now they are all even on the field. The seneschal is
marked for death, as he turns and welters in the red stream of warm
blood pouring from his body. The lion attacks the others; for my
lord Yvain is quite unable, though he did his best by beating or
by threatening him, to drive him back; but the lion doubtless feels
confident that his master does not dislike his aid, but rather loves him
the more for it: so he fiercely attacks them, until they have reason
to complain of his blows, and they wound him in turn and use him badly.
When my lord Yvain sees his lion wounded, his heart is wroth within his
breast, and rightly so; but he makes such efforts to avenge him, and
presses them so hard, that he completely reduces them; they no longer
resist him, but surrender to him at discretion, because of the lion's
help, who is now in great distress; for he was wounded everywhere, and
had good cause to be in pain. For his part, my lord Yvain was by no
means in a healthy state, for his body bore many a wound. But he is not
so anxious about himself as about his lion, which is in distress. Now
he has delivered the damsel exactly in accordance with his wish, and
the lady has very willingly dismissed the grudge that she bore her.
And those men were burned upon the pyre which had been kindled for
the damsel's death; for it is right and just that he who has misjudged
another, should suffer the same manner of death as that to which he had
condemned the other. Now Lunete is joyous and glad at being reconciled
with her mistress, and together they were more happy than any one ever
was before. Without recognising him, all present offered to him, who was
their lord, their service so long as life should last; even the lady,
who possessed unknowingly his heart, begged him insistently to tarry
there until his lion and he had quite recovered. And he replied: "Lady,
I shall not now tarry here until my lady removes from me her displeasure
and anger: then the end of all my labours will come." "Indeed," she
said, "that grieves me. I think the lady cannot be very courteous who
cherishes ill-will against you. She ought not to close her door against
so valorous a knight as you, unless he had done her some great wrong."
"Lady," he replies, "however great the hardship be, I am pleased by what
ever may be her will. But speak to me no more of that; for I shall say
nothing of the cause or crime, except to those who are informed of it."
"Does any one know it, then, beside you two?" "Yes, truly, lady." "Well,
tell us at least your name, fair sir; then you will be free to go."
"Quite free, my lady? No, I shall not be free. I owe more than I can
pay. Yet, I ought not to conceal from you my name. You will never hear
of 'The Knight with the Lion' without hearing of me; for I wish to be
known by that name." "For God's sake, sir, what does that name mean? For
we never saw you before, nor have we ever heard mentioned this name
of yours." "My lady, you may from that infer that my fame is not
widespread." Then the lady says: "Once more, if it did not oppose your
will, I would pray you to tarry here." "Really, my lady, I should not
dare, until I knew certainly that I had regained my lady's good-will."
"Well, then, go in God's name, fair sir; and, if it be His will, may He
convert your grief and sorrow into joy." "Lady," says he, "may God hear
your prayer." Then he added softly under his breath: "Lady, it is you
who hold the key, and, though you know it not, you hold the casket in
which my happiness is kept under lock."
(Vv. 4635-4674.) Then he goes away in great distress, and there is no
one who recognises him save Lunete, who accompanied him a long distance.
Lunete alone keeps him company, and he begs her insistently never to
reveal the name of her champion. "Sire," says she, "I will never do so."
Then he further requested her that she should not forget him, and that
she should keep a place for him in his mistress' heart, whenever the
chance arose. She tells him to be at ease on that score; for she will
never be forgetful, nor unfaithful, nor idle. Then he thanks her a
thousand times, and he departs pensive and oppressed, because of his
lion that he must needs carry, being unable to follow him on foot. He
makes for him a litter of moss and ferns in his shield. When he has made
a bed for him there, he lays him in it as gently as he can, and carries
him thus stretched out full length on the inner side of his shield.
Thus, in his shield he bears him off, until he arrives before the gate
of a mansion, strong and fair. Finding it closed, he called, and the
porter opened it so promptly that he had no need to call but once. He
reaches out to take his rein, and greets him thus: "Come in, fair sire.
I offer you the dwelling of my lord, if it please you to dismount." "I
accept the offer gladly," he replies, "for I stand in great need of it,
and it is time to find a lodging."
(Vv. 4675-4702.) Thereupon, he passed through the gate, and saw the
retainers in a mass coming to meet him. They greeted him and helped him
from his horse, and laid down upon the pavement his shield with the lion
on it. And some, taking his horse, put it in a stable: while others very
properly relieved him of his arms and took them. Then the lord of the
castle heard the news, and at once came down into the courtyard,
and greeted him. And his lady came down, too, with all her sons and
daughters and a great crowd of other people, who all rejoiced to offer
him a lodging. They gave him a quiet room, because they deemed that he
was sick; but their good nature was put to a test when they allowed the
lion to go with him. His cure was undertaken by two maidens skilled in
surgery, who were daughters of the lord. I do not know how many days
he stayed there, until he and his lion, being cured, were compelled to
proceed upon their way.
(Vv. 4703-4736.) But within this time it came about that my lord of
Noire Espine had a struggle with Death, and so fierce was Death's attack
that he was forced to die. After his death it happened that the elder of
two daughters whom he had, announced that she would possess uncontested
all the estates for herself during her entire lifetime, and that she
would give no share to her sister. And the other one said that she would
go to King Arthur's court to seek help for the defence of her claim to
the land. When the former saw that her sister would by no means concede
all the estates to her without contest, she was greatly concerned, and