Four Arthurian Romances
compared with what there is in his; in his heart love was so completely
embodied that it was niggardly toward all other hearts. Now Lancelot
possesses all he wants, when the Queen voluntarily seeks his company
and love, and when he holds her in his arms, and she holds him in hers.
Their sport is so agreeable and sweet, as they kiss and fondle each
other, that in truth such a marvellous joy comes over them as was never
heard or known. But their joy will not be revealed by me, for in a
story, it has no place. Yet, the most choice and delightful satisfaction
was precisely that of which our story must not speak. That night
Lancelot's joy and pleasure were very great. But, to his sorrow, day
comes when he must leave his mistress' side. It cost him such pain to
leave her that he suffered a real martyr's agony. His heart now stays
where the Queen remains; he has not the power to lead it away, for it
finds such pleasure in the Queen that it has no desire to leave her:
so his body goes, and his heart remains. But enough of his body stays
behind to spot and stain the sheets with the blood which has fallen from
his fingers. Full of sighs and tears, Lancelot leaves in great distress.
He grieves that no time is fixed for another meeting, but it cannot
be. Regretfully he leaves by the window through which he had entered so
happily. He was so badly wounded in the fingers that they were in sorry,
state; yet he straightened the bars and set them in their place again,
so that from neither side, either before or behind, was it evident that
any one had drawn out or bent any of the bars. When he leaves the room,
he bows and acts precisely as if he were before a shrine; then he goes
with a heavy heart, and reaches his lodgings without being recognised by
any one. He throws himself naked upon his bed without awaking any one,
and then for the first time he is surprised to notice the cuts in his
fingers; but he is not at all concerned, for he is very sure that the
wound was caused by dragging the window bars from the wall. Therefore he
was not at all worried, for he would rather have had both arms dragged
from his body than not enter through the window. But he would have been
very angry and distressed, if he had thus injured and wounded himself
under any other circumstances.
(Vv. 4755-5006.) In the morning, within her curtained room, the Queen
had fallen into a gentle sleep; she had not noticed that her sheets
were spotted with blood, but she supposed them to be perfectly white
and clean and presentable. Now Meleagant, as soon as he was dressed and
ready, went to the room where the Queen lay. He finds her awake, and he
sees the sheets spotted with fresh drops of blood, whereupon he nudges
his companions and, suspicious of some mischief, looks at the bed of Kay
the seneschal, and sees that his sheets are blood-stained too, for you
must know that in the night his wounds had begun to bleed afresh. Then
he said: "Lady, now I have found the evidence that I desired. It is very
true that any man is a fool to try to confine a woman: he wastes his
efforts and his pains. He who tries to keep her under guard loses her
sooner than the man who takes no thought of her. A fine watch, indeed,
has been kept by my father, who is guarding you on my behalf! He
has succeeded in keeping you from me, but, in spite of him, Kay the
seneschal has looked upon you last night, and has done what he pleased
with you, as can readily be proved." "What is that?" she asks. "Since I
must speak, I find blood on your sheets, which proves the fact. I know
it and can prove it, because I find on both your sheets and his the
blood which issued from his wounds: the evidence is very strong."
Then the Queen saw on both beds the bloody sheets, and marvelling, she
blushed with shame and said: "So help me God, this blood which I see
upon my sheets was never brought here by Kay, but my nose bled during
the night, and I suppose it must be from my nose." In saying so, she
thinks she tells the truth. "By my head," says Meleagant, "there is
nothing in what you say. Swearing is of no avail, for you are taken
in your guilt, and the truth will soon be proved." Then he said to the
guards who were present: "Gentlemen, do not move, and see to it that the
sheets are not taken from the bed until I return. I wish the king to do
me justice, as soon as he has seen the truth." Then he searched until he
found him, and failing at his feet, he said: "Sire, come to see what
you have failed to guard. Come to see the Queen, and you shall see the
certain marvels which I have already seen and tested. But, before you
go, I beg you not to fail to be just and upright toward me. You know
well to what danger I have exposed myself for the Queen; yet, you are no
friend of mine and keep her from me under guard. This morning I went to
see her in her bed, and I remarked that Kay lies with her every night.
Sire, for God's sake, be not angry, if I am disgruntled and if I
complain. For it is very humiliating for me to be hated and despised by
one with whom Kay is allowed to lie." "Silence!" says the king; "I don't
believe it." "Then come, my lord, and see the sheets and the state in
which Kay has left them. Since you will not believe my words, and since
you think I am lying, I will show you the sheets and the quilt covered
with blood from Kay's wounds." "Come now," says the king, "I wish to
see for myself, and my eyes will judge of the truth." Then the king goes
directly to the room, where the Queen got up at his approach. He sees
that the sheets are blood-stained on her bed and on Kay's alike and he
says: "Lady, it is going badly now, if what my son has said is true."
Then she replies: "So help me God, never even in a dream was uttered
such a monstrous lie. I think Kay the seneschal is courteous and loyal
enough not to commit such a deed, and besides, I do not expose my body
in the market-place, nor offer it of my own free will. Surely, Kay
is not the man to make an insulting proposal to me, and I have never
desired and shall never desire to do such a thing myself." "Sire, I
shall be much obliged to you," says Meleagant to his father, "if Kay
shall be made to atone for this outrage, and the Queen's shame thus
be exposed. It devolves upon you to see that justice is done, and this
justice I now request and claim. Kay has betrayed King Arthur, his lord,
who had such confidence in him that he entrusted to him what he loved
most in the world." "Let me answer, sire," says Kay, "and I shall
exonerate myself. May God have no mercy upon my soul when I leave this
world, if I ever lay with my lady! Indeed, I should rather be dead than
ever do my lord such an ugly wrong, and may God never grant me better
health than I have now but rather kill me on the spot, if such a thought
ever entered my mind! But I know that my wounds bled profusely last
night, and that is the reason why my sheets are stained with blood. That
is why your son suspects me, but surely he has no right to do so."
And Meleagant answers him: "So help me God, the devils and demons have
betrayed you. You grew too heated last night and, as a result of your
exertions, your wounds have doubtless bled afresh. There is no use in
your denying it; we can see it, and it is perfectly evident. It is
right that he should atone for his crime, who is so plainly taken in his
guilt. Never did a knight with so fair a name commit such iniquities
as this, and yours is the shame for it." "Sire, sire," says Kay to the
king, "I will defend the Queen and myself against the accusation of your
son. He harasses and distresses me, though he has no ground to treat me
so." "You cannot fight," the king replies, "you are too ill." "Sire, if
you will allow it, I will fight with him, ill as I am, and will show
him that I am not guilty of the crime which he imputes to me." But the
Queen, having secretly sent word to Lancelot, tells the king that she
will present a knight who will defend the seneschal, if Meleagant dares
to urge this charge. Then Meleagant said at once: "There is no knight
without exception, even were he a giant, whom I will not fight until one
of us is defeated." Then Lancelot came in, and with him such a rout
of knights that the whole hall was filled with them. As soon as he had
entered, in the hearing of all, both young and old, the Queen told
what had happened, and said: "Lancelot, this insult has been done me
by Meleagant. In the presence of all who hear his words he says I have
lied, if you do not make him take it back. Last night, he asserted,
Kay lay with me, because he found my sheets, like his, all stained with
blood; and he says that he stands convicted, unless he will undertake
his own defence, or unless some one else will fight the battle on his
behalf." Lancelot says: "You need never use arguments with me. May it
not please God that either you or he should be thus discredited! I am
ready to fight and to prove to the extent of my power that he never
was guilty of such a thought. I am ready to employ my strength in his
behalf, and to defend him against this charge." Then Meleagant jumped up
and said: "So help me God, I am pleased and well satisfied with that:
no one need think that I object." And Lancelot said: "My lord king, I
am well acquainted with suits and laws, with trials and verdicts: in
a question of veracity an oath should be taken before the fight."
Meleagant at once replies: "I agree to take an oath; so let the relics
be brought at once, for I know well that I am right." And Lancelot
answers him: "So help me God, no one who ever knew Kay the seneschal
would doubt his word on such a point." Then they call for their horses,
and ask that their arms be brought. This is promptly done, and when
the valets had armed them, they were ready for the fight. Then the holy
relics are brought forth: Meleagant steps forward, with Lancelot by his
side, and both fall on their knees. Then Meleagant, laying his hands
upon the relics, swears unreservedly: "So help me God and this holy
relic, Kay the seneschal lay with the Queen in her bed last night
and, had his pleasure with her." "And I swear that thou liest," says
Lancelot, "and furthermore I swear that he neither lay with her nor
touched her. And may it please God to take vengeance upon him who has
lied, and may He bring the truth to light! Moreover, I will take another
oath and swear, whoever may dislike it or be displeased, that if I am
permitted to vanquish Meleagant to-day, I will show him no mercy, so
help me God and these relics here!" The king felt no joy when he heard
this oath.
(Vv. 5007-5198.) When the oaths had been taken, their horses were
brought forward, which were fair and good in every way. Each man mounts
his own home, and they ride at once at each other as fast as the steeds
can carry them; and when the horses are in mid-career, the knights
strike each other so fiercely that there is nothing left of the lances
in their hands. Each brings the other to earth; however, they are not
dismayed, but they rise at once and attack each other with their sharp
drawn swords. The burning sparks fly in the air from their helmets. They
assail each other so bitterly with the drawn swords in their hands that,
as they thrust and draw, they encounter each other with their blows and
will not pause even to catch their breath. The king in his grief and
anxiety called the Queen, who had gone up in the tower to look out from
the balcony: he begged her for God's sake, the Creator, to let them be
separated. "Whatever is your pleasure is agreeable to me," the Queen
says honestly: "I shall not object to anything you do." Lancelot plainly
heard what reply the Queen made to the king's request, and from
that time he ceased to fight and renounced the struggle at once. But