name it not the Lay of the Four Sorrows, but, rather, the Lay of the
Dolorous Knight. Would you hear the reason why it should bear this
name? My three comrades have finished their course; they have nothing
more to hope of their life. They are gone, and with them the pang of
their great sorrow, and the knowledge of their enduring love for you.
I alone have come, all amazed and fearful, from the net wherein they
were taken, but I find my life more bitter than my comrades found the
grave. I see you on your goings and comings about the house. I may
speak with you both matins and vespers. But no other joy do I get--
neither clasp nor kiss, nothing but a few empty, courteous words.
Since all these evils are come upon me because of you, I choose death
rather than life. For this reason your Lay should bear my name, and be
called the Lay of the Dolorous Knight. He who would name it the Lay
of the Four Sorrows would name it wrongly, and not according to the
truth."
"By my faith," replied the lady, "this is a fair saying. So shall the
song be known as the Lay of the Dolorous Knight."
Thus was the Lay conceived, made perfect, and brought to a fair birth.
For this reason it came by its name; though to this day some call it
the Lay of the Four Sorrows. Either name befits it well, for the story
tells of both these matters, but it is the use and wont in this land
to call it the Lay of the Dolorous Knight. Here it ends; no more is
there to say. I heard no more, and nothing more I know. Perforce I
bring my story to a close.
IV
THE LAY OF ELIDUC
Now will I rehearse before you a very ancient Breton Lay. As the tale
was told to me, so, in turn, will I tell it over again, to the best of
my art and knowledge. Hearken now to my story, its why and its reason.
In Brittany there lived a knight, so courteous and so brave, that in
all the realm there was no worthier lord than he. This knight was
named Eliduc. He had wedded in his youth a noble lady of proud race
and name. They had long dwelt together in peace and content, for their
hearts were fixed on one another in faith and loyalty. Now it chanced
that Eliduc sought his fortune in a far land, where there was a great
war. There he loved a Princess, the daughter of the King and Queen of
those parts. Guillardun was the maiden's name, and in all the realm
was none more fair. The wife of Eliduc had to name, Guildeluec, in her
own country. By reason of these two ladies their story is known as the
Lay of Guildeluec and Guillardun, but at first it was rightly called
the Lay of Eliduc. The name is a little matter; but if you hearken to
me you shall learn the story of these three lovers, in its pity and
its truth.
Eliduc had as lord and suzerain, the King of Brittany over Sea. The
knight was greatly loved and cherished of his prince, by reason of his
long and loyal service. When the King's business took him from his
realm, Eliduc was his master's Justice and Seneschal. He governed the
country well and wisely, and held it from the foe with a strong hand.
Nevertheless, in spite of all, much evil was appointed unto him.
Eliduc was a mighty hunter, and by the King's grace, he would chase
the stag within the woods. He was cunning and fair as Tristan, and
so wise in venery, that the oldest forester might not gainsay him in
aught concerning the shaw. But by reason of malice and envy, certain
men accused him to the King that he had meddled with the royal
pleasaunce. The King bade Eliduc to avoid his Court. He gave no reason
for his commandment, and the knight might learn nothing of the cause.
Often he prayed the King that he might know whereof he was accused.
Often he begged his lord not to heed the specious and crafty words of
his foes. He called to mind the wounds he had gained in his master's
wars, but was answered never a word. When Eliduc found that he might
get no speech with his lord, it became his honour to depart. He
returned to his house, and calling his friends around him, opened
out to them this business of the King's wrath, in recompense for his
faithful service.
"I did not reckon on a King's gratitude; but as the proverb says, it
is useless for a farmer to dispute with the horse in his plough. The
wise and virtuous man keeps faith to his lord, and bears goodwill to
his neighbour, not for what he may receive in return."
Then the knight told his friends that since he might no longer stay in
his own country, he should cross the sea to the realm of Logres, and
sojourn there awhile, for his solace. His fief he placed in the hands
of his wife, and he required of his men, and of all who held him dear,
that they would serve her loyally. Having given good counsel to the
utmost of his power, the knight prepared him for the road. Right heavy
were his friends and kin, that he must go forth from amongst them.
Eliduc took with him ten knights of his household, and set out on his
journey. His dame came with him so far as she was able, wringing her
hands, and making much sorrow, at the departure of her husband. At the
end he pledged good faith to her, as she to him, and so she returned
to her own home. Eliduc went his way, till he came to a haven on the
sea. He took ship, and sailed to the realm of Totenois, for many kings
dwell in that country, and ever there were strife and war. Now, near
to Exeter, in this land, there dwelt a King, right rich and strong,
but old and very full of years. He had no son of his body, but one
maid only, young, and of an age to wed. Since he would not bestow this
damsel on a certain prince of his neighbours, this lord made mortal
war upon his fellow, spoiling and wasting all his land. The ancient
King, for surety, had set his daughter within a castle, fair and very
strong. He had charged the sergeants not to issue forth from the
gates, and for the rest there was none so bold as to seek to storm the
keep, or even to joust about the barriers. When Eliduc was told of
this quarrel, he needed to go no farther, and sojourned for awhile
in the land. He turned over in his mind which of these princes dealt
unjustly with his neighbour. Since he deemed that the agèd king was
the more vexed and sorely pressed in the matter, he resolved to aid
him to the best of his might, and to take arms in his service. Eliduc,
therefore, wrote letters to the King, telling him that he had quitted
his own country, and sought refuge in the King's realm. For his part
he was willing to fight as a mercenary in the King's quarrel, and if a
safe conduct were given him, he and the knights of his company would
ride, forthwith, to their master's aid. This letter, Eliduc sent by
the hands of his squires to the King. When the ancient lord had read
the letter, he rejoiced greatly, and made much of the messengers. He
summoned his constable, and commanded him swiftly to write out the
safe conduct, that would bring the baron to his side. For the rest he
bade that the messengers meetly should be lodged and apparelled, and
that such money should be given them as would be sufficient to their
needs. Then he sealed the safe conduct with his royal seal, and sent
it to Eliduc, straightway, by a sure hand.
When Eliduc came in answer to the summons, he was received with great
honour by the King. His lodging was appointed in the house of a grave
and courteous burgess of the city, who bestowed the fairest chamber on
his guest. Eliduc fared softly, both at bed and board. He called to
his table such good knights as were in misease, by reason of prison or
of war. He charged his men that none should be so bold as to take pelf
or penny from the citizens of the town, during the first forty days of
their sojourn. But on the third day, it was bruited about the streets,
that the enemy were near at hand. The country folk deemed that they
approached to invest the city, and to take the gates by storm. When
the noise and clamour of the fearful burgesses came to the ears of
Eliduc, he and his company donned their harness, and got to horse,
as quickly as they might. Forty horsemen mounted with him; as to the
rest, many lay sick or hurt within the city, and others were captives
in the hands of the foe. These forty stout sergeants waited for no
sounding of trumpets; they hastened to seek their captain at his
lodging, and rode at his back through the city gate.
"Sir," said they, "where you go, there we will follow, and what you
bid us, that shall we do."
"Friends," made answer the knight, "I thank you for your fellowship.
There is no man amongst us but who wishes to molest the foe, and do
them all the mischief that he is able. If we await them in the town,
we defend ourselves with the shield, and not with the sword. To my
mind it is better to fall in the field than to hide behind walls; but
if any of you have a wiser counsel to offer, now let him speak."
"Sir," replied a soldier of the company, "through the wood, in good
faith, there runs a path, right strict and narrow. It is the wont of
the enemy to approach our city by this track. After their deeds of
arms before the walls, it is their custom to return by the way they
came, helmet on saddle bow, and hauberk unbraced. If we might catch
them, unready in the path, we could trouble them very grievously, even
though it be at the peril of our lives."
"Friends," answered Eliduc, "you are all the King's men, and are bound
to serve him faithfully, even to the death. Come, now, with me where
I will go, and do that thing which you shall see me do. I give you my
word as a loyal gentleman, that no harm shall hap to any. If we gain
spoil and riches from the foe, each shall have his lot in the ransom.
At the least we may do them much hurt and mischief in this quarrel."
Eliduc set his men in ambush, near by that path, within the wood. He
told over to them, like a cunning captain, the crafty plan he had
devised, and taught them how to play their parts, and to call upon
his name. When the foe had entered on that perilous path, and were
altogether taken in the snare, Eliduc cried his name, and summoned his
companions to bear themselves like men. This they did stoutly, and
assailed their enemy so fiercely that he was dismayed beyond measure,
and his line being broken, fled to the forest. In this fight was the
constable taken, together with fifty and five other lords, who owned
themselves prisoners, and were given to the keeping of the squires.
Great was the spoil in horse and harness, and marvellous was the
wealth they gained in gold and ransom. So having done such great deeds
in so short a space, they returned to the city, joyous and content.
The King looked forth from a tower. He feared grievously for his men,
and made his complaint of Eliduc, who--he deemed--had betrayed him in
his need. Upon the road he saw a great company, charged and laden with
spoil. Since the number of those who returned was more than those who
went forth, the king knew not again his own. He came down from the
tower, in doubt and sore trouble, bidding that the gates should be
made fast, and that men should mount upon the walls. For such coil as
this, there was slender warrant. A squire who was sent out, came back
with all speed, and showed him of this adventure. He told over the
story of the ambush, and the tale of the prisoners. He rehearsed how
the constable was taken, and that many a knight was wounded, and many
a brave man slain. When the King might give credence thereto, he had
more joy than ever king before. He got him from his tower, and going
before Eliduc, he praised him to his face, and rendered him the
captives as a gift. Eliduc gave the King's bounty to his men. He
bestowed on them besides, all the harness and the spoil; keeping, for
his part, but three knights, who had won much honour in the battle.
From this day the King loved and cherished Eliduc very dearly. He held
the knight, and his company, for a full year in his service, and at
the end of the year, such faith had he in the knight's loyalty, that
he appointed him Seneschal and Constable of his realm.
Eliduc was not only a brave and wary captain; he was also a courteous
gentleman, right goodly to behold.
That fair maiden, the daughter of the King, heard tell of his deeds,
and desired to see his face, because of the good men spake of him. She
sent her privy chamberlain to the knight, praying him to come to her
house, that she might solace herself with the story of his deeds, for
greatly she wondered that he had no care for her friendship. Eliduc
gave answer to the chamberlain that he would ride forthwith, since
much he desired to meet so high a dame. He bade his squire to saddle
his destrier, and rode to the palace, to have speech with the lady.
Eliduc stood without the lady's chamber, and prayed the chamberlain to
tell the dame that he had come, according to her wish. The chamberlain
came forth with a smiling face, and straightway led him in the
chamber. When the princess saw the knight, she cherished him very
sweetly, and welcomed him in the most honourable fashion. The knight
gazed upon the lady, who was passing fair to see. He thanked her
courteously, that she was pleased to permit him to have speech with so
high a princess. Guillardun took Eliduc by the hand, and seated him
upon the bed, near her side. They spake together of many things, for
each found much to say. The maiden looked closely upon the knight, his
face and semblance; to her heart she said that never before had she
beheld so comely a man. Her eyes might find no blemish in his person,
and Love knocked upon her heart, requiring her to love, since her time
had come. She sighed, and her face lost its fair colour; but she cared
only to hide her trouble from the knight, lest he should think her the
less maidenly therefore. When they had talked together for a great
space, Eliduc took his leave, and went his way. The lady would have
kept him longer gladly, but since she did not dare, she allowed him
to depart. Eliduc returned to his lodging, very pensive and deep in
thought. He called to mind that fair maiden, the daughter of his
King, who so sweetly had bidden him to her side, and had kissed him
farewell, with sighs that were sweeter still. He repented him right
earnestly that he had lived so long a while in the land without
seeking her face, but promised that often he would enter her palace
now. Then he remembered the wife whom he had left in his own house. He
recalled the parting between them, and the covenant he made, that good
faith and stainless honour should be ever betwixt the twain. But the
maiden, from whom he came, was willing to take him as her knight! If
such was her will, might any pluck him from her hand?
All night long, that fair maiden, the daughter of the King, had
neither rest nor sleep. She rose up, very early in the morning, and
commanding her chamberlain, opened out to him all that was in her
heart. She leaned her brow against the casement.
"By my faith," she said, "I am fallen into a deep ditch, and sorrow
has come upon me. I love Eliduc, the good knight, whom my father made
his Seneschal. I love him so dearly that I turn the whole night upon
my bed, and cannot close my eyes, nor sleep. If he assured me of his
heart, and loved me again, all my pleasure should be found in his
happiness. Great might be his profit, for he would become King of this
realm, and little enough is it for his deserts, so courteous is he and
wise. If he have nothing better than friendship to give me, I choose
death before life, so deep is my distress."
When the princess had spoken what it pleased her to say, the
chamberlain, whom she had bidden, gave her loyal counsel.
"Lady," said he, "since you have set your love upon this knight, send
him now--if so it please you--some goodly gift-girdle or scarf or
ring. If he receive the gift with delight, rejoicing in your favour,
you may be assured that he loves you. There is no Emperor, under
Heaven, if he were tendered your tenderness, but would go the more
lightly for your grace."
The damsel hearkened to the counsel of her chamberlain, and made
reply, "If only I knew that he desired my love! Did ever maiden woo
her knight before, by asking whether he loved or hated her? What if he
make of me a mock and a jest in the ears of his friends! Ah, if the
secrets of the heart were but written on the face! But get you ready,
for go you must, at once."
"Lady," answered the chamberlain, "I am ready to do your bidding."
"You must greet the knight a hundred times in my name, and will place
my girdle in his hand, and this my golden ring."
When the chamberlain had gone upon his errand, the maiden was so
sick at heart, that for a little she would have bidden him return.
Nevertheless, she let him go his way, and eased her shame with words.
"Alas, what has come upon me, that I should put my heart upon a
stranger. I know nothing of his folk, whether they be mean or high;
nor do I know whether he will part as swiftly as he came. I have done
foolishly, and am worthy of blame, since I have bestowed my love very
lightly. I spoke to him yesterday for the first time, and now I pray
him for his love. Doubtless he will make me a song! Yet if he be the
courteous gentleman I believe him, he will understand, and not deal
hardly with me. At least the dice are cast, and if he may not love me,
I shall know myself the most woeful of ladies, and never taste of joy
all the days of my life."
Whilst the maiden lamented in this fashion, the chamberlain hastened
to the lodging of Eliduc. He came before the knight, and having
saluted him in his lady's name, he gave to his hand the ring and the
girdle. The knight thanked him earnestly for the gifts. He placed the
ring upon his finger, and the girdle he girt about his body. He said
no more to the chamberlain, nor asked him any questions; save only
that he proffered him a gift. This the messenger might not have, and
returned the way he came. The chamberlain entered in the palace and
found the princess within her chamber. He greeted her on the part of
the knight, and thanked her for her bounty.
"Diva, diva," cried the lady hastily, "hide nothing from me; does he
love me, or does he not?"
"Lady," answered the chamberlain, "as I deem, he loves you, and truly.
Eliduc is no cozener with words. I hold him for a discreet and prudent
gentleman, who knows well how to hide what is in his heart. I gave him
greeting in your name, and granted him your gifts. He set the ring
upon his finger, and as to your girdle, he girt it upon him, and
belted it tightly about his middle. I said no more to him, nor he to
me; but if he received not your gifts in tenderness, I am the more
deceived. Lady, I have told you his words: I cannot tell you his
thoughts. Only, mark carefully what I am about to say. If Eliduc had
not a richer gift to offer, he would not have taken your presents at
my hand."
"It pleases you to jest," said the lady. "I know well that Eliduc does
not altogether hate me. Since my only fault is to cherish him too
fondly, should he hate me, he would indeed be blameworthy. Never again
by you, or by any other, will I require him of aught, or look to him
for comfort. He shall see that a maiden's love is no slight thing,
lightly given, and lightly taken again--but, perchance, he will not
dwell in the realm so long as to know of the matter."
"Lady, the knight has covenanted to serve the King, in all loyalty,
for the space of a year. You have full leisure to tell, whatever you
desire him to learn."
When the maiden heard that Eliduc remained in the country, she
rejoiced very greatly. She was glad that the knight would sojourn
awhile in her city, for she knew naught of the torment he endured,
since first he looked upon her. He had neither peace nor delight, for
he could not get her from his mind. He reproached himself bitterly.
He called to remembrance the covenant he made with his wife, when he
departed from his own land, that he would never be false to his oath.
But his heart was a captive now, in a very strong prison. He desired
greatly to be loyal and honest, but he could not deny his love for the
maiden--Guillardun, so frank and so fair.
Eliduc strove to act as his honour required. He had speech and sight
of the lady, and did not refuse her kiss and embrace. He never spoke
of love, and was diligent to offend in nothing. He was careful in
this, because he would keep faith with his wife, and would attempt no
matter against his King. Very grievously he pained himself, but at the
end he might do no more. Eliduc caused his horse to be saddled, and
calling his companions about him, rode to the castle to get audience
of the King. He considered, too, that he might see his lady, and learn
what was in her heart. It was the hour of meat, and the King having
risen from table, had entered in his daughter's chamber. The King was
at chess, with a lord who had but come from over-sea. The lady sat
near the board, to watch the movements of the game. When Eliduc came
before the prince, he welcomed him gladly, bidding him to seat himself
close at hand. Afterwards he turned to his daughter, and said,
"Princess, it becomes you to have a closer friendship with this lord,
and to treat him well and worshipfully. Amongst five hundred, there is
no better knight than he."
When the maiden had listened demurely to her father's commandment,
there was no gayer lady than she. She rose lightly to her feet, and
taking the knight a little from the others, seated him at her side.
They remained silent, because of the greatness of their love. She did
not dare to speak the first, and to him the maid was more dreadful
than a knight in mail. At the end Eliduc thanked her courteously for
the gifts she had sent him; never was grace so precious and so kind.
The maiden made answer to the knight, that very dear to her was the
use he had found for her ring, and the girdle with which he had belted
his body. She loved him so fondly that she wished him for her husband.
If she might not have her wish, one thing she knew well, that she
would take no living man, but would die unwed. She trusted he would
not deny her hope.
"Lady," answered the knight, "I have great joy in your love, and thank
you humbly for the goodwill you bear me. I ought indeed to be a
happy man, since you deign to show me at what price you value our
friendship. Have you remembered that I may not remain always in your
realm? I covenanted with the King to serve him as his man for the
space of one year. Perchance I may stay longer in his service, for I
would not leave him till his quarrel be ended. Then I shall return to
my own land; so, fair lady, you permit me to say farewell."
The maiden made answer to her knight, "Fair friend, right sweetly I
thank you for your courteous speech. So apt a clerk will know, without
more words, that he may have of me just what he would. It becomes my
love to give faith to all you say."
The two lovers spoke together no further; each was well assured of
what was in the other's heart. Eliduc rode back to his lodging, right
joyous and content. Often he had speech with his friend, and passing
great was the love which grew between the twain.
Eliduc pressed on the war so fiercely that in the end he took captive
the King who troubled his lord, and had delivered the land from its
foes. He was greatly praised of all as a crafty captain in the field,
and a hardy comrade with the spear. The poor and the minstrel counted
him a generous knight. About this time that King, who had bidden
Eliduc avoid his realm, sought diligently to find him. He had sent
three messengers beyond the seas to seek his ancient Seneschal. A
strong enemy had wrought him much grief and loss. All his castles were
taken from him, and all his country was a spoil to the foe. Often and
sorely he repented him of the evil counsel to which he had given ear.
He mourned the absence of his mightiest knight, and drove from his
councils those false lords who, for malice and envy, had defamed him.
These he outlawed for ever from his realm. The King wrote letters to
Eliduc, conjuring him by the loving friendship that was once between
them, and summoning him as a vassal is required of his lord, to hasten
to his aid, in that his bitter need. When Eliduc heard these tidings
they pressed heavily upon him, by reason of the grievous love he bore
the dame. She, too, loved him with a woman's whole heart. Between the
two there was nothing but the purest love and tenderness. Never by
word or deed had they spoiled their friendship. To speak a little
closely together; to give some fond and foolish gift; this was the sum
of their love. In her wish and hope the maiden trusted to hold the
knight in her land, and to have him as her lord. Naught she deemed
that he was wedded to a wife beyond the sea.