The Complete Romances of Chrétien de Troyes / Edition 1

by David Staines

Overview

"[A]n eminently readable text, done clearly and accurately . . . it gives as good an idea as a translation can of the complexity and subtlety of Chrétien's originals. . . . The text is provided by a translator who understands the spirit as well as the letter of the original and renders it with style. . . . [T]his translation should attract a wide audience of students and Arthurian enthusiasts." —Speculum

"[A] significant contribution to the field of medieval studies [and] a pleasure to read." —Library Journal

"These are, above all, stories of courtly love and of knights tested in their devotion to chivalric ideals (with passion and duty often at odds); but they are also thrilling wonder stories of giants, wild men, tame lions, razor-sharp bridges and visits to the Other World." —Washington Post Book World

"This tastefully produced book will be the standard general translation for many years to come." —Choice

This new translation brings to life for a new generation of readers the stories of King Arthur, Lancelot, Guinevere, Gawain, Perceval, Yvain, and the other "knights and ladies" of Chrétien de Troyes' famous romances.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780253207876
Publisher:	Indiana University Press
Publication date:	01/22/1991
Edition description:	Reprint
Pages:	576
Product dimensions:	6.62(w) x 9.25(h) x (d)
Age Range:	18 Years

About the Author

David Staines is Professor of English at the University of Ottawa, widely published scholar, and general editor of the New Canadian Library.

Read an Excerpt

The Complete Romances of Chrétien de Troyes

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By David Staines

Indiana University Press

Copyright © 1990 Indiana University Press
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-253-20787-6

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CHAPTER 1

EREC AND ENIDE

THE PEASANT HAS A proverb: "What you scorn may be worth much more than you think." For the man does well who turns to good use whatever talents he has, while the man who neglects his talents could well be being silent about something which otherwise might bring much delight. That is why Christian of Troyes maintains it is right that all always aspire and endeavor to speak eloquently and to teach well. And he elicits a most pleasing pattern from a tale of adventure, in order to demonstrate and to prove that the man does not act wisely who fails to make full use of his knowledge so long as God grants him the grace to do so.

This is the tale of Erec, the son of Lac, which those who wish to make their living by storytelling in the presence of counts and kings usually mutilate and spoil. Now I am going to begin the story that henceforth will be remembered as long as Christianity endures. This is Christian's boast.

One springtime Easter Day, King Arthur held court in his castle at Cardigan. None so sumptuous was ever seen, for many fine knights were there, bold and proud warriors, as well as elegant ladies and beautiful and charming maidens who were the daughters of kings. Before the court dissolved, however, the king told his knights that he wished to revive the custom of the hunt for the white stag. Sir Gawain was not pleased by what he heard. "Lord," he said, "this hunt will never bring you pleasure or thanks. We have all known for some time the meaning of the custom of the white stag: whoever can kill the white stag has the right to kiss the most beautiful maiden of your court regardless of the consequences. Great peril could come from this, for there are five hundred young ladies of noble birth here, wise and charming, the daughters of kings. There is none who does not have a bold and valiant knight for her lover, and each lover would gladly affirm, whether right or wrong, that his beloved is the most charming and the most beautiful."

"I know this," the king replied. "Nevertheless I shall not renounce my plan on that account. The word of the king should not be contradicted. Tomorrow morning amid great festivity, we shall all go and hunt the white stag in the forest of adventures. This hunt will be an occasion of great wonders." And so the hunt was arranged for dawn the next day.

At daybreak the following morning, the king rose and dressed, putting on a short tunic for his ride in the forest. He had his knights awakened and the hunting horses harnessed. Armed with their bows and arrows, the men set out to hunt in the forest. After them the queen mounted. Accompanying her was her maid-in-waiting, the daughter of a king, who sat on a fine palfrey. Behind them spurring quickly was a knight named Erec, a member of the Round Table, who enjoyed great renown at the court. Since he had been there, no other knight had received so much praise. Such beauty was his that nowhere on earth could be found a knight so handsome. Though not yet twenty-five, he was most noble, brave, and becoming. Never had any man his age displayed such valor. What more can I say of his good qualities?

He had mounted a charger, dressed in an ermine-trimmed cloak, a tunic of splendid flowered silk from Constantinople, and leggings of silk brocade that were finely designed and cut. His gold spurs were fastened and he was firmly fixed in the stirrups as he came galloping along the road. He carried no other weapon but his sword. Racing along, he overtook the queen at the turning in the road. "Lady," he said, "if you please, I would like to join you along this route. The only reason I came here is to keep you company."

"Dear friend," the queen answered by way of thanks, "I delight in your company, you may be certain of that. I could have no finer companion."

They then galloped along until they reached the edge of the forest. Those who had gone ahead had already flushed out the stag. Some were blowing horns, others shouting. With a great din, the hounds dashed after the stag, running, darting, and barking. The archers sent up a shower of arrows. Leading all the hunters was the king riding a Spanish hunting horse.

Queen Guinevere was in the forest listening for the hounds, and alongside her were Erec and her courteous and beautiful maid-in-waiting. But because those who had flushed out the stag were so far away, the three could hear nothing, not horn, hunting horse, or hound. In order to listen carefully, all three had stopped in a roadside clearing, hoping to hear a man's voice or a hound's cry somewhere. They were in this place but a short time when they sighted an armed knight approaching on a charger, his shield hanging from his neck, his lance in his hand. From a distance the queen saw him: riding beside him on his right was a maiden of elegant bearing, and coming along the road ahead of them on a large packhorse was a dwarf, who carried a knotted whip in his hand. Watching this handsome and proper knight, Queen Guinevere wished to know his identity and that of his maiden. She commanded her maid to go at once and speak with him. "Young lady," the queen said, "that knight who rides there, go and tell him to come to me and to bring his maiden with him."

Her maid rode at an amble straight to the knight. His whip in his hand, the dwarf came to meet her. "Stop, young lady!" shouted the dwarf, who was full of wickedness. "What are you after? Nothing past here concerns you."

"Dwarf, let me pass on, for the queen sends me there. I wish to talk with that knight," she replied.

The evil, base-born dwarf stood in the center of the road. "Nothing here concerns you," he said. "Go back. It is improper for you to address so fine a knight."

The maid rode forward and tried to force her way past, having great contempt for the dwarf because she saw how small he was. When the dwarf saw her riding toward him, he raised his whip, intending to lash her across the face. But she raised her arm to protect herself. He struck her again, this time hitting her on her bare, unprotected hand. He brought down such a blow on the back of her hand that the entire hand turned blue. Unable to do more, the maid was forced to return whether she wished to or not. She wept as she made her way back, the tears from her eyes streaming down her face.

At the sight of her injured maid, the queen was angry and distraught; she did not know what to do. "Alas, Erec, dear friend," she said, "I am deeply pained that this dwarf has done my maid such an injury. The knight is certainly a churl to let a monster like that strike such a lovely creature. Dear friend Erec, go to the knight there and tell him to come to me at once. I wish to be acquainted with him and his lady."

Spurring his horse, Erec galloped straight to the knight. The despicable dwarf saw him approaching and went to meet him. "Vassal, stand back!" he exclaimed. "I don't know what business you have here. I advise you to draw back."

"Move away, you disagreeable dwarf," Erec replied. "You are wicked and provoking. Let me by."

"You shall not go by."

"Yes, I will."

"No, you will not."

Erec forced the dwarf aside. Of all people the dwarf was the most wicked, and he dealt him a terrible blow across the neck with his whip. The whip's stroke slashed Erec's neck and face. From one end to the other, lines appeared from the lashes. Seeing the armed knight's arrogance and ferocity, Erec realized that he could not have the satisfaction of hitting the dwarf, for fear the knight would kill him at once were he to strike his dwarf before his eyes. Folly is not valor, and so Erec, having no alternative, acted prudently by returning to the queen.

"Lady, the situation is worse now," he said. "The despicable dwarf has badly hurt me, for he slashed my face. I dared not touch or hit him. But no one should blame me for this, since I was all unarmed, and I feared the rude and arrogant knight who was armed. He would not have regarded the matter as a jest. In his conceit he would have killed me at once. Yet I make you a promise: if I can, I will avenge my disgrace or else increase it. But my weapons are too far from here when now I need them, for I left them at Cardigan when I set out this morning. If I were to go and fetch them, I might never chance upon the knight again, for he is galloping away. I must follow him at once, far or near, until I can find equipment to borrow or hire. If I find someone to lend me arms, the knight will discover me ready for immediate combat. You can be absolutely certain both of us will fight until he defeats me, or I him. And if I can, I shall be on my return within three days. You will then see me back home again either happy or sad, I don't know which. Lady, I can delay no longer. I must follow the knight. Off I go. To God I commend you." And more than five hundred times the queen similarly commended him to God to protect him from harm. Erec left the queen to pursue the knight without pause, while the queen stayed in the forest where the king had overtaken the stag.

The king had arrived before the other men at the stag's capture. They killed the white stag and carried it away. They all turned back toward home, bearing the stag, and they rode along until they reached Cardigan.

After supper, when the high spirits of all the barons pervaded the household, the king declared that in accordance with the practice, since he had captured the stag, he would go and bestow the kiss to observe the custom of the stag. Throughout the court a great din arose. Everyone was asserting and swearing that this would never happen without the dispute of swords or ash lances. Every knight wished to prove in armed combat that his beloved was the greatest beauty in the hall. That kind of talk was most alarming.

You can be certain Sir Gawain was not pleased by what he heard. He addressed the king on the subject. "Lord, these knights of yours are deeply upset. They all talk about this kiss and say it will never happen without dissension or battle," he said.

"Dear nephew Gawain," the king replied sensibly, "advise me, with due respect to my honor and my prerogative, how to avoid the dissension."

Several of the finest barons of the court hastened to council. King Yder had come there; he had been the first summoned. After him came the wise and worthy King Cadiolant. Kay and Girflet had come there, King Amauguin as well, and many other barons had joined them.

The discussion continued until the queen arrived. She recounted the adventure that had happened in the forest, telling them about the armed knight she had seen and the wicked little dwarf who had hit her maid's bare hand with his whip and foully struck Erec in the same way on the face. She continued by noting that Erec had followed the knight to avenge his disgrace or else increase it, and that he was to return, if he could, within three days. "Lord," the queen addressed the king, "listen to me a minute. If these barons agree, postpone this kiss until Erec returns in three days." Everyone there agreed with her, and the king himself approved her suggestion.

Erec continued his pursuit of the armed knight and the dwarf who had struck him until they reached a well-situated town, which was both beautiful and fortified, where they immediately entered through the gateway. In the town there was jubilation among the knights and among the maidens, for many beautiful maidens were there. Along the streets, some people were feeding molting falcons and sparrowhawks; others were bringing tercels outside, along with sorrel-hooded goshawks. Elsewhere, other people were playing games, some at dice or another game of chance, others intent on chess and backgammon. In front of the stables the grooms were rubbing down and currying the horses. In their chambers the ladies were preparing themselves in their finery. From the distance the people caught sight of the knight approaching with his dwarf and his maiden; they recognized him and went in threes to meet him. Although they all joyfully welcomed him, they paid no attention to Erec, for they did not recognize him.

Erec followed the knight closely through the town until he saw him take lodging, and was extremely pleased and happy to see that he was lodged. Proceeding a little farther, he noticed a rather elderly vavasor resting at the top of some steps. The vavasor was a handsome man, elderly and white-haired, noble and well born, though his dwelling was poor. He was seated there all alone, apparently absorbed in his thoughts. Erec assumed that he was a man of worth who would not hesitate to offer him lodging, and as he entered the yard through the gate, the vavasor hurried to meet him. Before Erec had uttered a word, the vavasor greeted him. "Welcome, dear sir," he said. "If you care to accept my hospitality, behold, my lodging awaits you."

"Thank you," Erec replied. "That is the reason I came here: I need shelter for the night."

When Erec dismounted, the host himself took his horse and led it away by the reins, rejoicing over his guest. The vavasor called to his wife and his beautiful daughter, who were busily engaged in a workroom. I do not know what work they were doing. The lady came outside at his call, as did his daughter, who was attired in a white shift of fine material with wide pleats. She wore this under a long-sleeved white linen smock, which was so old that it was worn through at the elbows; she wore no other clothing. The outside attire was meager, but the person within was attractive.

The maiden was most beautiful. In creating her, Nature had expended all her effort. More than five hundred times even Nature herself had marveled at having fashioned on this one occasion such a beautiful creature. Since that time, despite all her possible efforts, there was no way in which she could reproduce her own model. Nature bears witness that never before had such a lovely creature been seen on the face of the earth. I tell you honestly, the shining golden hair of the blonde Iseult was nothing in comparison with this maiden's hair. Her forehead and face were whiter and brighter than the lily-in-bloom. In a most wondrous fashion, Nature had given her complexion a fresh rosy hue that illuminated her face. So brilliantly glowing were her eyes that they seemed a pair of stars. God never knew how to make a finer nose, mouth, or eyes. What more can I say of her beauty? To be honest, she was made to be gazed upon, for a man could see himself reflected in her as in a mirror.

When the maiden came out of the workroom and noticed the knight whom she had never seen, she stepped back a little. Because she did not know him, she was embarrassed and began to blush. For his part, Erec was dazzled to behold such great beauty in her.

"Sweet gentle daughter," the vavasor said to her, "take this horse and lead it to the stable with mine. Make certain it has everything. Remove the saddle and bridle. Give it hay and oats. Brush and groom it that it may be well cared for."

The maiden took the horse, unlaced the breaststrap, and removed the saddle and bridle. Now, under her proper attention, the horse received excellent care. She put a halter around its neck, then rubbed it well, brushed it, and groomed it. She tied it to the feeding-trough and heaped in front fresh sweet hay and oats. Then she returned to her father.

"My dear daughter," he said to her, "take this lord by the hand and show him the highest honor."

The maiden did not know discourtesy. She did not hesitate to take him by the hand and lead him upstairs. The lady of the house had gone ahead to prepare her home. She had decked the beds with quilts and spreads where all three of them would sit, Erec beside the maiden and his host across from them. In front of them the fire blazed brightly. The vavasor had no household staff, not even a chambermaid or a serving girl, but only one serving man, who was cooking meat and fowl for supper in the kitchen. He was fast in arranging the meal, for he knew well how to prepare and cook meat quickly by boiling it in water and roasting it on a spit. When the meal had been prepared according to the instructions he had received, he offered them water in two basins, then set everything in place, portable tables with cloths and bowls. All of them sat down to eat and found they had everything they wanted.

When they had dined to their satisfaction and left the tables, Erec addressed his host, the lord of the house. "Dear host, tell me," he said, "why is your daughter, who is so beautiful and careful of herself, turned out in dress so poor and beneath her station?"

"Dear friend," the vavasor replied, "poverty harms many men, and I am no exception. Although it hurts me deeply to see her dressed so poorly, I cannot amend the situation. I have been at war so long that I have lost all my land, which I was forced to mortgage and sell. Yet she would have been well dressed had I let her accept what people wished to give her. Even the lord of this town would have clothed her in splendid style and complied with all her wishes, for she is his niece and he is a count. In all this land there is no baron, however renowned, who would not have married her gladly had I consented. But I am still waiting for a better occasion when God may show her greater honor and chance may bring a count or a king here who will lead her away.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from The Complete Romances of Chrétien de Troyes by David Staines. Copyright © 1990 Indiana University Press. Excerpted by permission of Indiana University Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents

Acknowledgements
Introduction
Erec and Enide
Cliges
The Knight of the Cart
The Knight With the Lion
The Story of the Grail
Appendix: William of England
Variant Readings of the Manuscript
A Bibliography of Texts and Critical Studies
An Index of Proper Names

Editorial Reviews

"Chretien is where the literary tradition of the Arthurian romance can be seen to begin. . . . His poems are the earliest we have that portray knights errant questing through dangerous forests to challenge unknown opponents and to learn the meaning of love. . . . Staines [also] provides the first, and only, English translation of "Guillaume d'Angeleterre" [and] it is very good to have it available."—Times Literary Supplement

From the Publisher

Chretien is where the literary tradition of the Arthurian romance can be seen to begin. . . . His poems are the earliest we have that portray knights errant questing through dangerous forests to challenge unknown opponents and to learn the meaning of love. . . . Staines [also] provides the first, and only, English translation of "Guillaume d'Angeleterre" [and] it is very good to have it available.

Times Literary Supplement