Arthurian Romances (62 page)

‘Pray tell me,' queried my lord Yvain, ‘where was the noble and kind lord Gawain. He never failed to help a damsel in distress.'

‘He would have made me joyful and happy if I had found him at court: I could never have asked anything of him that would have been refused me; but a knight has carried off the queen,
¹³
they tell me, and the king was surely mad to send her off with him. And Kay, I believe, escorted her to meet the knight who has carried her off; and now my lord Gawain, who is seeking her, has embarked upon a difficult task. He will never rest a single day until he has found her. I have told you the entire truth about my situation. Tomorrow I shall die a hideous death and be burned without pity because of your shameful crime.'

‘May it never please God that anyone harm you on my account!' he replied. ‘As long as I'm alive, you shall not die! Tomorrow you can look for me, equipped according to my rank, to place myself at your command, as it is fitting for me to do. But you mustn't tell anyone who I am; no matter what happens in the battle, be careful that I am not recognized!'

‘Indeed, my lord, no amount of torture could compel me to reveal your name: I will suffer death first, since you wish it so. And yet I beg you not to return there on my account; I don't want you to undertake such a desperate fight. I thank you for promising to do it so willingly, but consider yourself free of your oath; for it is better that I alone die than see them delight in your death. Were they to kill you, still they'd not spare me; so it's better that you remain alive than for both of us to die.'

‘It pains me to hear what you've said,' answered my lord Yvain. ‘Good friend, either you do not want to be delivered from death, or else you scorn
the favour of my offer of help. I don't want to argue with you further, for you have done so much for me, indeed, that I must not fail you in any need that you might have. I know that you are distraught; but, if it please God in whom I trust, all three of them will be put to shame. No more of this now; I must go to seek what shelter I can in this wood, for I don't know of any lodging near to hand.'

‘Sir,' she said, ‘may God grant you both good lodging and a good night, and may he protect you from anything that might do you harm.'

My lord Yvain left at once, followed as ever by his lion. They travelled along until they neared a baron's stronghold that was enclosed all around by a thick, strong, and high wall. The town, which was extremely well fortified, feared no assault by mangonel or catapult. Outside the walls the entire area had been cleared so that no hut or house remained standing. You will hear the reason for this later, when the time comes.

My lord Yvain made his way straight towards the stronghold; as many as seven squires appeared, lowered a drawbridge for him, and advanced towards him. But they were very frightened by the lion they saw accompanying him, and they asked him to be pleased to leave his lion at the gate so it wouldn't attack or kill them.

‘Say no more about it,' he replied, ‘for I'll not enter without it! Either we will both be given lodgings or I shall remain out here, for I love it as much as myself. Yet you needn't be afraid of it, for I shall watch over it so well that you can feel quite safe.'

‘Well then, so be it!' they replied.

Then they entered the town and rode until they encountered knights, ladies, men-at-arms, and charming damsels approaching, who greeted him, helped him dismount, and saw to the removal of his armour.

They said to him: ‘May you be welcome, my lord, among us here, and may God grant that you stay until you can leave with great happiness and honour.'

Everyone, from the highest to the lowest, did their best to make him feel welcome; amidst great rejoicing they showed him to his lodgings. Yet after having shown their gladness, grief overwhelmed them and made them forget their joy; they began to cry out, to weep, and to tear at themselves. So for a long while they continued in this manner, alternating joy and sorrow: in order to honour their guest they behaved joyfully in spite of themselves, for they were fearful of an adventure they were expecting the next day. They were all convinced and certain that it would come to pass before midday. My lord Yvain was troubled to see them changing moods so often, for they showed both joy and grief.

He addressed himself to the lord of the town and castle. ‘In God's name,' he said, ‘good, dear, kind sir, would it please you to say why you have honoured me and welcomed me with joy, but then wept?'

‘Yes, if you really wish to know. But it would be much better for you if it were kept silent and hidden; if it were my choice, I would never tell you anything that might cause you to suffer. Let us bear our own grief, and don't you put any of it upon your heart.'

‘There is no way that I could see you grieving in this manner and not take it to heart; no, I am very eager to know, whatever trouble it might cause me.'

‘Then,' he said, ‘I shall tell you. I have suffered greatly because of a giant who has demanded I give him my daughter, who is more beautiful than all the maidens in the world. The wicked giant, may God curse him, is named Harpin of the Mountain; never a day passes that he doesn't take everything of mine within his grasp; no one has more cause than I to complain, to lament, and to grieve. I am about to go out of my mind with grief, for I had six sons who were knights, fairer than any I knew in this world; the giant has taken all six of them. He killed two of them as I looked on, and tomorrow will kill the other four unless I either find someone to face him in battle and rescue my sons, or agree to hand my daughter over to him. And when he has taken her, he'll turn her over to the vilest and filthiest stable-boys he can find in his household for their sport, since he would scorn to take her for himself.

‘Tomorrow this sorrow awaits me, unless God Almighty brings me help. And therefore it's no wonder, my good sir, that we are weeping; but on your account we force ourselves, in so far as we can at this time, to assume a cheerful countenance. For a man is a fool to receive a worthy man and not show him honour, and you seem a worthy man to me. Now, my lord, I have told you the sum of our great distress. The giant has left us nothing in the town or in the castle except what you see here; you must have seen for yourself, if you paid any heed this night, that there's not a board standing. Except for these bare walls, he has levelled the whole city. After he had carried off everything he wanted, he set fire to the rest; thus he's done me many a wicked deed.'

My lord Yvain listened to everything that his host told him, and after he had heard it all he was pleased to answer him.

‘Sir,' said he, ‘I am very upset and distressed by your troubles, but I am surprised you have not sought help from the court of good King Arthur. No man is so mighty that he couldn't find at Arthur's court some who'd like to measure their own strength against his.'

Then the wealthy man explained to Yvain that he would have had good help had he known where to find my lord Gawain.

‘He would never have failed in this combat, for my wife is his sister; but the queen has been carried off by a knight from a foreign land, who came to court to fetch her. However, he would never have been able to carry her off by his own devices if Kay had not so misled the king that he placed the queen in his keeping and entrusted her to him. He was a fool and she imprudent to entrust herself to Kay's escort; and I am the one who stands to suffer and lose the most in this, for it is quite certain that the brave Sir Gawain would have come here in all haste had he known of the danger facing his niece and nephews. But he doesn't know, which so grieves me that my heart is nearly bursting; instead, he has gone after the knight, to whom God should cause great woe for having carried off the queen.'

My lord Yvain could not stop sighing when he heard this; out of the pity he felt for him, he answered: ‘Dear good kind sir, I will gladly face this perilous adventure, if the giant and your sons come early enough tomorrow not to cause me too great a delay, for I must be somewhere else tomorrow at noon, as I have given my oath.'

‘Good my lord, I thank you one hundred thousand times for your willingness,' replied the noble man. And all the people in the household thanked him in like manner.

Then from a chamber came the maiden with her graceful body, and her fair and pleasing face. She was miserable, sad, and quiet, with her head bowed towards the earth as she walked, for her grief was unceasing; and her mother walked beside her, since the lord had summoned them to meet their guest. They approached with mantles wrapped about to hide their tears; and he bade them open their mantles and raise their heads, saying: ‘What I am asking you to do should not be difficult, for God and good fortune have brought us a very high-born gentleman, who has assured me that he will do battle against the giant. Don't let anything keep you from falling at his feet at once.'

‘May God never let me see that day!' said my lord Yvain at once. ‘It would not be at all fitting for the sister or the niece of my lord Gawain to fall at my feet for any reason. May God keep me from ever being so filled with pride as to allow them to fall at my feet. In truth, I'd never get over the shame it would cause me. But I would be grateful to them if they would take comfort until tomorrow, when they will see if God wishes to help them. There is no need to beg me further as long as the giant arrives early enough so that I won't have to break my promise elsewhere; for nothing
will prevent me from being tomorrow at midday at what is truly the greatest venture I could ever undertake.'

He did not want to give them absolute assurance, because he was afraid that the giant might not come early enough for him still to return in time to rescue the maiden who was imprisoned in the chapel. None the less he gave them enough assurances that they were quite hopeful; and they thanked him one and all, for they placed great trust in his prowess and thought he must be a fine man because of the lion accompanying him, who lay as gently beside him as would a lamb. They took comfort and rejoiced for the hope they found in him, and were never afterwards sad.

When the time came they led him to bed in a well-lighted room, and both the damsel and her mother accompanied him, for already they held him very dear and would have held him a hundred thousand times dearer still had they known of his courtliness and great prowess. Both he and the lion lay down and rested in that room, since no one else dared sleep there; instead, they locked the door so tightly that they could not come out until dawn the next day. After the room was unlocked, Yvain arose and heard Mass and, to fulfil the promise he had made them, waited until the hour of prime.

Then he summoned the lord of the town and spoke to him in the presence of everyone: ‘My lord, I can delay no more; I hope you will not object to my leaving, because it is impossible for me to stay longer. Yet I assure you that I would gladly stay a bit longer, for the sake of the nephews and niece of my beloved Sir Gawain, if I did not have pressing business such a long way from here.'

All the maiden's blood quaked and boiled with fear, as did the lady's and the vavasour's. They were so afraid Yvain would leave that they were about to fall at his feet in spite of their majesty, when they recalled that it would neither satisfy nor please him. Then the lord offered to share his wealth with Yvain, if he would accept either land or some other goods, if he would only wait a little longer.

‘God forbid that I should accept anything!' Yvain replied.

And the grief-stricken maiden began to weep aloud and beg him to stay. Distressed and anguished, she prayed him in the name of the glorious Queen of Heaven and the angels and in God's name not to leave, but to wait just a bit longer. She begged him also in the name of Gawain, her uncle, whom he said he knew and loved and esteemed. And he felt great compassion when he heard that she implored him in the name of the man he most loved, and by the Queen of Heaven, and by God, who is the honey
and sweetness of pity. He sighed deeply in his anguish, because on the one hand he would not for all the wealth of Tarsus want to see her whom he had sworn to help be burned to death; his life would reach its end or he would go completely mad if he could not arrive in time to save her. Yet on the other hand, memory of the great nobility of his friend, my lord Gawain, caused him such distress that his heart nearly burst in two since he could stay no longer.

Yet he did not move, but lingered there until the giant suddenly arrived leading the captive knights. From his neck there hung a large, squared club, pointed in front, with which he prodded them frequently. What they were wearing was not worth a straw: only filthy, smelly shirts; their feet and hands were tightly bound with ropes, and they were seated upon four thin, weak, and worn-out nags that limped along. They came following the edge of the wood; a dwarf, ugly as a puffed-up toad, had tied the horses' tails together and was walking beside the four of them; he was beating them constantly with a six-knotted whip to show how brave he was. He beat them until they were covered with blood. In this manner they were led shamefully along by both knight and dwarf.

On a level spot before the gate the giant stopped and shouted to the worthy man that he intended to kill his sons if he did not give him his daughter. He intended to turn her over to his lackeys to be their whore, for he didn't love or prize her enough to deign to debase himself with her. She would have a thousand knaves with her constantly, all covered with lice and naked like tramps and scullery-boys, and all abusing her shamefully.

The gentleman nearly went mad when he heard the giant saying he would debauch his daughter, or else his four sons would be killed at once before his very eyes. He suffered the agony of one who would prefer to be dead than alive. He kept bemoaning his sad fate and weeping profusely.

But then my lord Yvain began to speak, with noble and comforting words: ‘Sir, this giant, who's boasting so out there, is most vile and conceited; but may God never grant him power over your daughter! He despises and insults her so! It would be a terrible thing if such a truly beautiful creature, born of such noble parents, were abandoned to his knaves. Bring me my horse and my armour! Have the drawbridge lowered and let me cross over it. One or the other of us – I don't know which – will have to be defeated. If I can force this cruel and wicked man, who's caused you so much misery, to humble himself to free your sons and make amends before your people for the insults he has spoken, then I should wish to commend you to God and be about my other business.'