IV
THE LAY OF ELIDUC
Now will I rehearse before you a very ancient Breton Lay. As the talewas told to me, so, in turn, will I tell it over again, to the best ofmy 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 inall the realm there was no worthier lord than he. This knight wasnamed Eliduc. He had wedded in his youth a noble lady of proud raceand name. They had long dwelt together in peace and content, for theirhearts were fixed on one another in faith and loyalty. Now it chancedthat Eliduc sought his fortune in a far land, where there was a greatwar. There he loved a Princess, the daughter of the King and Queen ofthose parts. Guillardun was the maiden's name, and in all the realmwas none more fair. The wife of Eliduc had to name, Guildeluec, in herown country. By reason of these two ladies their story is known as theLay of Guildeluec and Guillardun, but at first it was rightly calledthe Lay of Eliduc. The name is a little matter; but if you hearken tome you shall learn the story of these three lovers, in its pity andits truth.
Eliduc had as lord and suzerain, the King of Brittany over Sea. Theknight was greatly loved and cherished of his prince, by reason of hislong and loyal service. When the King's business took him from hisrealm, Eliduc was his master's Justice and Seneschal. He governed thecountry 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 chasethe stag within the woods. He was cunning and fair as Tristan, andso wise in venery, that the oldest forester might not gainsay him inaught concerning the shaw. But by reason of malice and envy, certainmen accused him to the King that he had meddled with the royalpleasaunce. The King bade Eliduc to avoid his Court. He gave no reasonfor 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 ofhis foes. He called to mind the wounds he had gained in his master'swars, but was answered never a word. When Eliduc found that he mightget no speech with his lord, it became his honour to depart. Hereturned to his house, and calling his friends around him, openedout to them this business of the King's wrath, in recompense for hisfaithful service.
"I did not reckon on a King's gratitude; but as the proverb says, itis useless for a farmer to dispute with the horse in his plough. Thewise and virtuous man keeps faith to his lord, and bears goodwill tohis neighbour, not for what he may receive in return."
Then the knight told his friends that since he might no longer stay inhis own country, he should cross the sea to the realm of Logres, andsojourn there awhile, for his solace. His fief he placed in the handsof 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 theutmost of his power, the knight prepared him for the road. Right heavywere 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 hisjourney. His dame came with him so far as she was able, wringing herhands, and making much sorrow, at the departure of her husband. At theend he pledged good faith to her, as she to him, and so she returnedto her own home. Eliduc went his way, till he came to a haven on thesea. He took ship, and sailed to the realm of Totenois, for many kingsdwell in that country, and ever there were strife and war. Now, nearto 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 onemaid only, young, and of an age to wed. Since he would not bestow thisdamsel on a certain prince of his neighbours, this lord made mortalwar upon his fellow, spoiling and wasting all his land. The ancientKing, for surety, had set his daughter within a castle, fair and verystrong. He had charged the sergeants not to issue forth from thegates, and for the rest there was none so bold as to seek to storm thekeep, or even to joust about the barriers. When Eliduc was told ofthis quarrel, he needed to go no farther, and sojourned for awhilein the land. He turned over in his mind which of these princes dealtunjustly with his neighbour. Since he deemed that the agèd king wasthe more vexed and sorely pressed in the matter, he resolved to aidhim 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 quittedhis own country, and sought refuge in the King's realm. For his parthe was willing to fight as a mercenary in the King's quarrel, and if asafe conduct were given him, he and the knights of his company wouldride, forthwith, to their master's aid. This letter, Eliduc sent bythe hands of his squires to the King. When the ancient lord had readthe letter, he rejoiced greatly, and made much of the messengers. Hesummoned his constable, and commanded him swiftly to write out thesafe conduct, that would bring the baron to his side. For the rest hebade that the messengers meetly should be lodged and apparelled, andthat such money should be given them as would be sufficient to theirneeds. Then he sealed the safe conduct with his royal seal, and sentit to Eliduc, straightway, by a sure hand.
When Eliduc came in answer to the summons, he was received with greathonour by the King. His lodging was appointed in the house of a graveand courteous burgess of the city, who bestowed the fairest chamber onhis guest. Eliduc fared softly, both at bed and board. He called tohis table such good knights as were in misease, by reason of prison orof war. He charged his men that none should be so bold as to take pelfor penny from the citizens of the town, during the first forty days oftheir sojourn. But on the third day, it was bruited about the streets,that the enemy were near at hand. The country folk deemed that theyapproached to invest the city, and to take the gates by storm. Whenthe noise and clamour of the fearful burgesses came to the ears ofEliduc, he and his company donned their harness, and got to horse,as quickly as they might. Forty horsemen mounted with him; as to therest, many lay sick or hurt within the city, and others were captivesin the hands of the foe. These forty stout sergeants waited for nosounding of trumpets; they hastened to seek their captain at hislodging, and rode at his back through the city gate.
"Sir," said they, "where you go, there we will follow, and what youbid 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 dothem 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 mymind it is better to fall in the field than to hide behind walls; butif any of you have a wiser counsel to offer, now let him speak."
"Sir," replied a soldier of the company, "through the wood, in goodfaith, there runs a path, right strict and narrow. It is the wont ofthe enemy to approach our city by this track. After their deeds ofarms before the walls, it is their custom to return by the way theycame, helmet on saddle bow, and hauberk unbraced. If we might catchthem, unready in the path, we could trouble them very grievously, eventhough it be at the peril of our lives."
"Friends," answered Eliduc, "you are all the King's men, and are boundto serve him faithfully, even to the death. Come, now, with me whereI will go, and do that thing which you shall see me do. I give you myword as a loyal gentleman, that no harm shall hap to any. If we gainspoil 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. Hetold over to them, like a cunning captain, the crafty plan he haddevised, and taught them how to play their parts, and to call uponhis name. When the foe had entered on that perilous path, and werealtogether taken in the snare, Eliduc cried his name, and summoned hiscompanions to bear themselves like men. This they did stoutly, andassailed their enemy so fiercely that he was dismayed beyond measure,and his line being broken, fled to the forest. In this fight was theconstable taken, together with fifty and five other lords, who ownedthemselves prisoners, and were given to the keeping of the squires.Great was the spoil in horse and harness, and marvellous was thewealth they gained in gold and ransom. So having done such great deedsin 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 inhis need. Upon the road he saw a great company, charged and laden withspoil. Since the number of those who returned was more than those whowent forth, the king knew not again his own. He came down from thetower, in doubt and sore trouble, bidding that the gates should bemade fast, and that men should mount upon the walls. For such coil asthis, there was slender warrant. A squire who was sent out, came backwith all speed, and showed him of this adventure. He told over thestory of the ambush, and the tale of the prisoners. He rehearsed howthe constable was taken, and that many a knight was wounded, and manya brave man slain. When the King might give credence thereto, he hadmore joy than ever king before. He got him from his tower, and goingbefore Eliduc, he praised him to his face, and rendered him thecaptives as a gift. Eliduc gave the King's bounty to his men. Hebestowed on them besides, all the harness and the spoil; keeping, forhis part, but three knights, who had won much honour in the battle.From this day the King loved and cherished Eliduc very dearly. He heldthe knight, and his company, for a full year in his service, and atthe end of the year, such faith had he in the knight's loyalty, thathe appointed him Seneschal and Constable of his realm.
Eliduc was not only a brave and wary captain; he was also a courteousgentleman, 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. Shesent her privy chamberlain to the knight, praying him to come to herhouse, that she might solace herself with the story of his deeds, forgreatly she wondered that he had no care for her friendship. Eliducgave answer to the chamberlain that he would ride forthwith, sincemuch he desired to meet so high a dame. He bade his squire to saddlehis destrier, and rode to the palace, to have speech with the lady.Eliduc stood without the lady's chamber, and prayed the chamberlain totell the dame that he had come, according to her wish. The chamberlaincame forth with a smiling face, and straightway led him in thechamber. When the princess saw the knight, she cherished him verysweetly, and welcomed him in the most honourable fashion. The knightgazed upon the lady, who was passing fair to see. He thanked hercourteously, that she was pleased to permit him to have speech with sohigh a princess. Guillardun took Eliduc by the hand, and seated himupon the bed, near her side. They spake together of many things, foreach found much to say. The maiden looked closely upon the knight, hisface and semblance; to her heart she said that never before had shebeheld 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 timehad come. She sighed, and her face lost its fair colour; but she caredonly to hide her trouble from the knight, lest he should think her theless maidenly therefore. When they had talked together for a greatspace, Eliduc took his leave, and went his way. The lady would havekept him longer gladly, but since she did not dare, she allowed himto depart. Eliduc returned to his lodging, very pensive and deep inthought. He called to mind that fair maiden, the daughter of hisKing, who so sweetly had bidden him to her side, and had kissed himfarewell, with sighs that were sweeter still. He repented him rightearnestly that he had lived so long a while in the land withoutseeking her face, but promised that often he would enter her palacenow. Then he remembered the wife whom he had left in his own house. Herecalled the parting between them, and the covenant he made, that goodfaith and stainless honour should be ever betwixt the twain. But themaiden, from whom he came, was willing to take him as her knight! Ifsuch was her will, might any pluck him from her hand?
All night long, that fair maiden, the daughter of the King, hadneither rest nor sleep. She rose up, very early in the morning, andcommanding her chamberlain, opened out to him all that was in herheart. She leaned her brow against the casement.
"By my faith," she said, "I am fallen into a deep ditch, and sorrowhas come upon me. I love Eliduc, the good knight, whom my father madehis Seneschal. I love him so dearly that I turn the whole night uponmy bed, and cannot close my eyes, nor sleep. If he assured me of hisheart, and loved me again, all my pleasure should be found in hishappiness. Great might be his profit, for he would become King of thisrealm, and little enough is it for his deserts, so courteous is he andwise. If he have nothing better than friendship to give me, I choosedeath before life, so deep is my distress."
When the princess had spoken what it pleased her to say, thechamberlain, whom she had bidden, gave her loyal counsel.
"Lady," said he, "since you have set your love upon this knight, sendhim now--if so it please you--some goodly gift-girdle or scarf orring. If he receive the gift with delight, rejoicing in your favour,you may be assured that he loves you. There is no Emperor, underHeaven, if he were tendered your tenderness, but would go the morelightly for your grace."
The damsel hearkened to the counsel of her chamberlain, and madereply, "If only I knew that he desired my love! Did ever maiden wooher knight before, by asking whether he loved or hated her? What if hemake of me a mock and a jest in the ears of his friends! Ah, if thesecrets 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 placemy girdle in his hand, and this my golden ring."
When the chamberlain had gone upon his errand, the maiden was sosick 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 astranger. 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 donefoolishly, and am worthy of blame, since I have bestowed my love verylightly. I spoke to him yesterday for the first time, and now I prayhim for his love. Doubtless he will make me a song! Yet if he be thecourteous gentleman I believe him, he will understand, and not dealhardly 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 joyall the days of my life."
Whilst the maiden lamented in this fashion, the chamberlain hastenedto the lodging of Eliduc. He came before the knight, and havingsaluted him in his lady's name, he gave to his hand the ring and thegirdle. The knight thanked him earnestly for the gifts. He placed thering upon his finger, and the girdle he girt about his body. He saidno more to the chamberlain, nor asked him any questions; save onlythat he proffered him a gift. This the messenger might not have, andreturned the way he came. The chamberlain entered in the palace andfound the princess within her chamber. He greeted her on the part ofthe knight, and thanked her for her bounty.
"Diva, diva," cried the lady hastily, "hide nothing from me; does helove 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 prudentgentleman, who knows well how to hide what is in his heart. I gave himgreeting in your name, and granted him your gifts. He set the ringupon his finger, and as to your girdle, he girt it upon him, andbelted it tightly about his middle. I said no more to him, nor he tome; but if he received not your gifts in tenderness, I am the moredeceived. Lady, I have told you his words: I cannot tell you histhoughts. Only, mark carefully what I am about to say. If Eliduc hadnot a richer gift to offer, he would not have taken your presents atmy hand."
"It pleases you to jest," said the lady. "I know well that Eliduc doesnot altogether hate me. Since my only fault is to cherish him toofondly, should he hate me, he would indeed be blameworthy. Never againby you, or by any other, will I require him of aught, or look to himfor comfort. He shall see that a maiden's love is no slight thing,lightly given, and lightly taken again--but, perchance, he will notdwell 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 youdesire him to learn."
When the maiden heard that Eliduc remained in the country, sherejoiced very greatly. She was glad that the knight would sojournawhile in her city, for she knew naught of the torment he endured,since first he looked upon her. He had neither peace nor delight, forhe could not get her from his mind. He reproached himself bitterly.He called to remembrance the covenant he made with his wife, when hedeparted 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 desiredgreatly to be loyal and honest, but he could not deny his love for themaiden--Guillardun, so frank and so fair.
Eliduc strove to act as his honour required. He had speech and sightof the lady, and did not refuse her kiss and embrace. He never spokeof love, and was diligent to offend in nothing. He was careful inthis, because he would keep faith with his wife, and would attempt nomatter against his King. Very grievously he pained himself, but at theend he might do no more. Eliduc caused his horse to be saddled, andcalling his companions about him, rode to the castle to get audienceof the King. He considered, too, that he might see his lady, and learnwhat was in her heart. It was the hour of meat, and the King havingrisen from table, had entered in his daughter's chamber. The King wasat chess, with a lord who had but come from over-sea. The lady satnear the board, to watch the movements of the game. When Eliduc camebefore the prince, he welcomed him gladly, bidding him to seat himselfclose 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 isno 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, andtaking the knight a little from the others, seated him at her side.They remained silent, because of the greatness of their love. She didnot dare to speak the first, and to him the maid was more dreadfulthan a knight in mail. At the end Eliduc thanked her courteously forthe 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 theuse he had found for her ring, and the girdle with which he had beltedhis 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 shewould take no living man, but would die unwed. She trusted he wouldnot deny her hope.
"Lady," answered the knight, "I have great joy in your love, and thankyou humbly for the goodwill you bear me. I ought indeed to be ahappy man, since you deign to show me at what price you value ourfriendship. Have you remembered that I may not remain always in yourrealm? I covenanted with the King to serve him as his man for thespace of one year. Perchance I may stay longer in his service, for Iwould not leave him till his quarrel be ended. Then I shall return tomy own land; so, fair lady, you permit me to say farewell."
The maiden made answer to her knight, "Fair friend, right sweetly Ithank you for your courteous speech. So apt a clerk will know, withoutmore words, that he may have of me just what he would. It becomes mylove to give faith to all you say."
The two lovers spoke together no further; each was well assured ofwhat was in the other's heart. Eliduc rode back to his lodging, rightjoyous and content. Often he had speech with his friend, and passinggreat was the love which grew between the twain.
Eliduc pressed on the war so fiercely that in the end he took captivethe King who troubled his lord, and had delivered the land from itsfoes. 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 countedhim a generous knight. About this time that King, who had biddenEliduc avoid his realm, sought diligently to find him. He had sentthree messengers beyond the seas to seek his ancient Seneschal. Astrong enemy had wrought him much grief and loss. All his castles weretaken from him, and all his country was a spoil to the foe. Often andsorely he repented him of the evil counsel to which he had given ear.He mourned the absence of his mightiest knight, and drove from hiscouncils those false lords who, for malice and envy, had defamed him.These he outlawed for ever from his realm. The King wrote letters toEliduc, conjuring him by the loving friendship that was once betweenthem, and summoning him as a vassal is required of his lord, to hastento his aid, in that his bitter need. When Eliduc heard these tidingsthey pressed heavily upon him, by reason of the grievous love he borethe dame. She, too, loved him with a woman's whole heart. Between thetwo there was nothing but the purest love and tenderness. Never byword or deed had they spoiled their friendship. To speak a littleclosely together; to give some fond and foolish gift; this was the sumof their love. In her wish and hope the maiden trusted to hold theknight in her land, and to have him as her lord. Naught she deemedthat he was wedded to a wife beyond the sea.
"Alas," said Eliduc, "I have loitered too long in this country, andhave gone astray. Here I have set my heart on a maiden, Guillardun,the daughter of the King, and she, on me. If, now, we part, there isno help that one, or both, of us, must die. Yet go I must. My lordrequires me by letters, and by the oath of fealty that I have sworn.My own honour demands that I should return to my wife. I dare notstay; needs must I go. I cannot wed my lady, for not a priest inChristendom would make us man and wife. All things turn to blame. God,what a tearing asunder will our parting be! Yet there is one who willever think me in the right, though I be held in scorn of all. I willbe guided by her wishes, and what she counsels that will I do. TheKing, her sire, is troubled no longer by any war. First, I will go tohim, praying that I may return to my own land, for a little, becauseof the need of my rightful lord. Then I will seek out the maiden, andshow her the whole business. She will tell me her desire, and I shallact according to her wish."
The knight hesitated no longer as to the path he should follow. Hewent straight to the King, and craved leave to depart. He told himthe story of his lord's distress, and read, and placed in the King'shands, the letters calling him back to his home. When the King hadread the writing, and knew that Eliduc purposed to depart, he waspassing sad and heavy. He offered the knight the third part of hiskingdom, with all the treasure that he pleased to ask, if he wouldremain at his side. He offered these things to the knight--these, andthe gratitude of all his days besides.
"Do not tempt me, sire," replied the knight. "My lord is in suchdeadly peril, and his letters have come so great a way to require me,that go I must to aid him in his need. When I have ended my task, Iwill return very gladly, if you care for my services, and with me agoodly company of knights to fight in your quarrels."
The King thanked Eliduc for his words, and granted him graciously theleave that he demanded. He gave him, moreover, all the goods of hishouse; gold and silver, hound and horses, silken cloths, both rich andfair, these he might have at his will. Eliduc took of them discreetly,according to his need. Then, very softly, he asked one other gift.If it pleased the King, right willingly would he say farewell to theprincess, before he went. The King replied that it was his pleasure,too. He sent a page to open the door of the maiden's chamber, and totell her the knight's request. When she saw him, she took him bythe hand, and saluted him very sweetly. Eliduc was the more fain ofcounsel than of claspings. He seated himself by the maiden's side, andas shortly as he might, commenced to show her of the business. He haddone no more than read her of his letters, than her face lost its faircolour, and near she came to swoon. When Eliduc saw her about to fall,he knew not what he did, for grief. He kissed her mouth, once andagain, and wept above her, very tenderly. He took, and held her fastin his arms, till she had returned from her swoon.
"Fair dear friend," said he softly, "bear with me while I tell youthat you are my life and my death, and in you is all my comfort. Ihave bidden farewell to your father, and purposed to go back to my ownland, for reason of this bitter business of my lord. But my will isonly in your pleasure, and whatever the future brings me, your counselI will do."
"Since you cannot stay," said the maiden, "take me with you, whereveryou go. If not, my life is so joyless without you, that I would wishto end it with my knife."
Very sweetly made answer Sir Eliduc, for in honesty he loved honestmaid, "Fair friend, I have sworn faith to your father, and am his man.If I carried you with me, I should give the lie to my troth. Let thiscovenant be made between us. Should you give me leave to return to myown land I swear to you on my honour as a knight, that I will comeagain on any day that you shall name. My life is in your hands.Nothing on earth shall keep me from your side, so only that I havelife and health."
Then she, who loved so fondly, granted her knight permission todepart, and fixed the term, and named the day for his return. Greatwas their sorrow that the hour had come to bid farewell. They gaverings of gold for remembrance, and sweetly kissed adieu. So theysevered from each other's arms.
Eliduc sought the sea, and with a fair wind, crossed swiftly to theother side. His lord was greatly content to learn the tidings of hisknight's return. His friends and his kinsfolk came to greet him, andthe common folk welcomed him very gladly. But, amongst them all, nonewas so blithe at his home-coming as the fair and prudent lady who washis wife. Despite this show of friendship, Eliduc was ever sad, anddeep in thought. He went heavily, till he might look upon his friend.He felt no happiness, nor made pretence of any, till he should meetwith her again. His wife was sick at heart, because of the coldness ofher husband. She took counsel with her soul, as to what she had doneamiss. Often she asked him privily, if she had come short or offendedin any measure, whilst he was without the realm. If she was accused byany, let him tell her the accusation, that she might purge herself ofthe offence.
"Wife," answered Eliduc, "neither I, nor any other, charge you withaught that is against your honour to do. The cause of my sorrow isin myself. I have pledged my faith to the King of that country, fromwhence I come, that I will return to help him in his need. When mylord the King has peace in his realm, within eight days I shall beonce more upon the sea. Great travail I must endure, and many pains Ishall suffer, in readiness for that hour. Return I must, and till thenI have no mind for anything but toil; for I will not give the lie tomy plighted word."
Eliduc put his fief once more in the hands of his dame. He soughthis lord, and aided him to the best of his might. By the counsel andprowess of the knight, the King came again into his own. When the termappointed by his lady, and the day she named for his return drew near,Eliduc wrought in such fashion that peace was accorded between thefoes. Then the knight made him ready for his journey, and took thoughtto the folk he should carry with him. His choice fell on two of hisnephews, whom he loved very dearly, and on a certain chamberlain ofhis household. These were trusted servitors, who were of his inmostmind, and knew much of his counsel. Together with these went hissquires, these only, for Eliduc had no care to take many. All these,nephew and squire and chamberlain, Eliduc made to promise, and confirmby an oath, that they would reveal nothing of his business.
The company put to sea without further tarrying, and, crossingquickly, came to that land where Eliduc so greatly desired to be. Theknight sought a hostel some distance from the haven, for he wouldnot be seen of any, nor have it bruited that Eliduc was returned. Hecalled his chamberlain, and sent him to his friend, bearing lettersthat her knight had come, according to the covenant that had beenmade. At nightfall, before the gates were made fast, Eliduc issuedforth from the city, and followed after his messenger. He had clothedhimself in mean apparel, and rode at a footpace straight to the city,where dwelt the daughter of the King. The chamberlain arrived beforethe palace, and by dint of asking and prying, found himself within thelady's chamber. He saluted the maiden, and told her that her loverwas near. When Guillardun heard these tidings she was astonied beyondmeasure, and for joy and pity wept right tenderly. She kissed theletters of her friend, and the messenger who brought such welcometidings. The chamberlain prayed the lady to attire and make her readyto join her friend. The day was spent in preparing for the adventure,according to such plan as had been devised. When dark was come,and all was still, the damsel stole forth from the palace, and thechamberlain with her. For fear that any man should know her again,the maiden had hidden, beneath a riding cloak, her silken gown,embroidered with gold. About the space of a bow shot from the citygate, there was a coppice standing within a fair meadow. Near by thiswood, Eliduc and his comrades awaited the coming of Guillardun. WhenEliduc saw the lady, wrapped in her mantle, and his chamberlainleading her by the hand, he got from his horse, and kissed her righttenderly. Great joy had his companions at so fair a sight. He sether on the horse, and climbing before her, took bridle in glove,and returned to the haven, with all the speed he might. He enteredforthwith in the ship, which put to sea, having on board none, saveEliduc, his men, and his lady, Guillardun. With a fair wind, and aquiet hour, the sailors thought that they would swiftly come to shore.But when their journey was near its end, a sudden tempest arose on thesea. A mighty wind drove them far from their harbourage, so that theirrudder was broken, and their sail torn from the mast. Devoutly theycried on St. Nicholas, St. Clement, and Madame St. Mary, to aid themin this peril. They implored the Mother that she would approach herSon, not to permit them to perish, but to bring them to the harbourwhere they would come. Without sail or oar, the ship drifted here andthere, at the mercy of the storm. They were very close to death, whenone of the company, with a loud voice began to cry, "What need isthere of prayers! Sir, you have with you, her, who brings us to ourdeath. We shall never win to land, because you, who already have afaithful wife, seek to wed this foreign woman, against God and Hislaw, against honour and your plighted troth. Grant us to cast her inthe sea, and straightway the winds and the waves will be still."
When Eliduc heard these words he was like to come to harm for rage.
"Bad servant and felon traitor," he cried, "you should pay dearly foryour speech, if I might leave my lady."
Eliduc held his friend fast in his arms, and cherished her as well ashe was able. When the lady heard that her knight was already weddedin his own realm, she swooned where she lay. Her face became pale anddiscoloured; she neither breathed nor sighed, nor could any bringher any comfort. Those who carried her to a sheltered place, werepersuaded that she was but dead, because of the fury of the storm.Eliduc was passing heavy. He rose to his feet, and hastening to hissquire, smote him so grievously with an oar, that he fell senseless onthe deck. He haled him by his legs to the side of the ship and flungthe body in the sea, where it was swiftly swallowed by the waves. Hewent to the broken rudder, and governed the nave so skilfully, that itpresently drew to land. So, having come to their fair haven, they castanchor, and made fast their bridge to the shore. Dame Guillardun layyet in her swoon, and seemed no other than if she were really dead.Eliduc's sorrow was all the more, since he deemed that he had slainher with his hand. He inquired of his companions in what near placethey might lay the lady to her rest, "for I will not bid her farewell,till she is put in holy ground with such pomp and rite as befit theobsequies of the daughter of a King." His comrades answered him nevera word, for they were all bemused by reason of what had befallen.Eliduc, therefore, considered within himself to what place he shouldcarry the lady. His own home was so near the haven where he had come,that very easily they could ride there before evening. He called tomind that in his realm there was a certain great forest, both long anddeep. Within this wood there was a little chapel, served by a holyhermit for forty years, with whom Eliduc had oftimes spoken.
"To this holy man," he said, "I will bear my lady. In his chapel heshall bury her sweet body. I will endow him so richly of my lands,that upon her chantry shall be founded a mighty abbey. There someconvent of monks or nuns or canons shall ever hold her in remembrance,praying God to grant her mercy in His day."
Eliduc got to horse, but first took oath of his comrades that never,by them, should be discovered, that which they should see. He set hisfriend before him on the palfrey, and thus the living and the deadrode together, till they had entered the wood, and come before thechapel. The squires called and beat upon the door, but it remainedfast, and none was found to give them any answer. Eliduc bade that oneshould climb through a window, and open the door from within. Whenthey had come within the chapel they found a new made tomb, and writthereon, that the holy hermit having finished his course, was madeperfect, eight days before Passing sad was Eliduc, and esmayed. Hiscompanions would have digged a second grave, and set therein, hisfriend; but the knight would in no wise consent, for--he said--hepurposed to take counsel of the priests of his country, as to buildingsome church or abbey above her tomb. "At this hour we will but lay herbody before the altar, and commend her to God His holy keeping."He commanded them to bring their mantles and make a bed upon thealtar-pace. Thereon they laid the maiden, and having wrapped her closein her lover's cloak, left her alone. When the moment came for Eliducto take farewell of his lady, he deemed that his own last hour hadcome. He kissed her eyes and her face.
"Fair friend," said he, "if it be pleasing to God, never will I bearsword or lance again, or seek the pleasures of this mortal world. Fairfriend, in an ill hour you saw me! Sweet lady, in a bitter hour youfollowed me to death! Fairest, now were you a queen, were it not forthe pure and loyal love you set upon me? Passing sad of heart am I foryou, my friend. The hour that I have seen you in your shroud, I willtake the habit of some holy order, and every day, upon your tomb, Iwill tell over the chaplet of my sorrow."
Having taken farewell of the maiden, Eliduc came forth from thechapel, and closed the doors. He sent messages to his wife, that hewas returning to his house, but weary and overborne. When the dameheard these tidings, she was happy in her heart, and made ready togreet him. She received her lord tenderly; but little joy came of herwelcome, for she got neither smiles in answer, nor tender words inreturn. She dared not inquire the reason, during the two days Eliducremained in the house. The knight heard Mass very early in themorning, and then set forth on the road leading to the chapel wherethe maiden lay. He found her as he had parted, for she had not comeback from her swoon, and there was neither stir in her, nor breath. Hemarvelled greatly, for he saw her, vermeil and white, as he had knownher in life. She had lost none of her sweet colour, save that she wasa little blanched. He wept bitterly above her, and entreated for hersoul. Having made his prayer, he went again to his house.
On a day when Eliduc went forth, his wife called to her a varlet ofher household, commanding him to follow his lord afar off, and markwhere he went, and on what business. She promised to give him harnessand horses, if he did according to her will. The varlet hid himself inthe wood, and followed so cunningly after his lord, that he was notperceived. He watched the knight enter the chapel, and heard thecry and lamentation that he made. When Eliduc came out, the varlethastened to his mistress, and told her what he had seen, the tears anddolour, and all that befell his lord within the hermitage. The ladysummoned all her courage.
"We will go together, as soon as we may, to this hermitage. My lordtells me that he rides presently to the Court to speak with the King.I knew that my husband loved this dead hermit very tenderly, but Ilittle thought that his loss would make him mad with grief."
The next day the dame let her lord go forth in peace. When, aboutnoon, Eliduc rode to the Court to greet his King, the lady rosequickly, and carrying the varlet with her, went swiftly to thehermitage. She entered the chapel, and saw the bed upon thealtar-pace, and the maiden thereon, like a new sprung rose. Stoopingdown the lady removed the mantle. She marked the rigid body, the longarms, and the frail white hands, with their slender fingers, folded onthe breast. Thus she learned the secret of the sorrow of her lord. Shecalled the varlet within the chapel, and showed him this wonder.
"Seest thou," she said, "this woman, who for beauty shineth as a gem!This lady, in her life, was the lover of my lord. It was for her thatall his days were spoiled by grief. By my faith I marvel little athis sorrow, since I, who am a woman too, will--for pity's sake orlove--never know joy again, having seen so fair a lady in the dust."
So the wife wept above the body of the maiden. Whilst the ladysat weeping, a weasel came from under the altar, and ran acrossGuillardun's body. The varlet smote it with his staff, and killed itas it passed. He took the vermin and flung it away. The companion ofthis weasel presently came forth to seek him. She ran to the placewhere he lay, and finding that he would not get him on his feet,seemed as one distraught. She went forth from the chapel, and hastenedto the wood, from whence she returned quickly, bearing a vermeilflower beneath her teeth. This red flower she placed within the mouthof that weasel the varlet had slain, and immediately he stood upon hisfeet. When the lady saw this, she cried to the varlet,
"Throw, man, throw, and gain the flower."
The servitor flung his staff, and the weasels fled away, leaving thatfair flower upon the floor. The lady rose. She took the flower, andreturned with it swiftly to the altar pace. Within the mouth of themaiden, she set a flower that was more vermeil still. For a shortspace the dame and the damsel were alike breathless. Then the maidencame to herself, with a sigh. She opened her eyes, and commenced tospeak.
"Diva," she said, "have I slept so long, indeed!"
When the lady heard her voice she gave thanks to God. She inquired ofthe maiden as to her name and degree. The damsel made answer to her,"Lady, I was born in Logres, and am daughter to the King of thatrealm. Greatly there I loved a knight, named Eliduc, the seneschal ofmy sire. We fled together from my home, to my own most grievous fault.He never told me that he was wedded to a wife in his own country, andhe hid the matter so cunningly, that I knew naught thereof. When Iheard tell of his dame, I swooned for pure sorrow. Now I find thatthis false lover, has, like a felon, betrayed me in a strange land.What will chance to a maiden in so foul a plight? Great is thatwoman's folly who puts her trust in man."
"Fair damsel," replied the lady, "there is nothing in the whole worldthat can give such joy to this felon, as to hear that you are yetalive. He deems that you are dead, and every day he beweeps your swoonin the chapel. I am his wife, and my heart is sick, just for lookingon his sorrow. To learn the reason of his grief, I caused him tobe followed, and that is why I have found you here. It is a greathappiness for me to know that you live. You shall return with me to myhome, and I will place you in the tenderness of your friend. Then Ishall release him of his marriage troth, since it is my dearest hopeto take the veil."
When the wife had comforted the maiden with such words, they wenttogether to her own house. She called to her servitor, and bade himseek his lord. The varlet went here and there, till he lighted onEliduc. He came before him, and showed him of all these things. Eliducmounted straightway on his horse, and waiting neither for squire orcompanion, that same night came to his hall. When he found alive, her,who once was dead, Eliduc thanked his wife for so dear a gift. Herejoiced beyond measure, and of all his days, no day was more happythan this. He kissed the maiden often, and very sweetly she gave himagain his kiss, for great was the joy between the twain. The damelooked on their happiness, and knew that her lord meetly had bestowedhis love. She prayed him, therefore, that he would grant her leave todepart, since she would serve God as a cloistered nun. Of his wealthshe craved such a portion as would permit her to found a convent. Hewould then be able to wed the maiden on whom his heart was set, for itwas neither honest nor seemly that a man should maintain a wife witheither hand.
Eliduc could do no otherwise than consent. He gave the permission sheasked, and did all according to her will. He endowed the lady of hislands, near by that chapel and hermitage, within the wood. There hebuilt a church with offices and refectory, fair to see. Much wealth hebestowed on the convent, in money and estate. When all was brought toa good end, the lady took the veil upon her head. Thirty other ladiesentered in the house with her, and long she ruled them as theirAbbess, right wisely and well.
Eliduc wedded with his friend, in great pomp, and passing rich was themarriage feast. They dwelt in unity together for many days, for everbetween them was perfect love. They walked uprightly, and gave alms oftheir goods, till such a time as it became them to turn to God. Aftermuch thought, Eliduc built a great church close beside his castle.He endowed it with all his gold and silver, and with the rest of hisland. He set priests there, and holy layfolk also, for the business ofthe house, and the fair services of religion.
When all was builded and ordered, Eliduc offered himself, with them,that he--weak man--might serve the omnipotent God. He set with theAbbess Guildeluec--who once was his dame--that wife whom he loved sodearly well. The Abbess received her as a sister, and welcomed herright honourably. She admonished her in the offices of God, and taughther of the rules and practice of their holy Order. They prayed to Godfor their friend, that He would grant him mercy in His day. In turn,he entreated God for them. Messages came from convent and monastery asto how they fared, so that each might encourage the other in His way.Each strove painfully, for himself and his, to love God the moredearly, and to abide in His holy faith. Each made a good end, and themercy of God was abundantly made clear to all.
Of the adventure of these three lovers, the courteous Bretons madethis Lay for remembrance, since they deemed it a matter that menshould not forget.
