Arthurian Romances (72 page)

These words so enraged Kay that he nearly died of wrath and, in his anger, he could scarcely restrain himself from killing the jester in front of the whole court. But because it would displease the king he refrained from attacking him.

And the king said: ‘Ah, Kay! How angry you have made me this day! Had someone instructed the boy and taught him enough of weaponry that he could use his shield and lance a little, no doubt he would have made a fine knight. But he doesn't know a thing about weapons or anything else, and couldn't even draw his sword if he needed to. Now he's sitting armed upon his steed and will encounter some vassal who won't hesitate to maim him in order to win his horse; he'll be dead or crippled before long, because he's so simple-minded and uncouth that he doesn't know how to defend himself! The other will instantly overwhelm him.' So the king lamented, mourned, and pitied the young man; but he could gain nothing by it, so he fell silent.

Meanwhile the boy rode on without delay through the forest until upon the flatlands he came to a river which was wider than a crossbow-shot, for all the waters had drained into it and now flowed along its bed. He crossed a meadow towards the raging waters, but he did not set foot in them, for he saw that they were dark and deep and swifter than the Loire. He rode along the riverbank opposite a high, rocky cliff, and the water facing him lapped against the foot of the rock. In the rock, on a slope that dropped down to the water, was built a fine and mighty castle. Where the river spread into a bay, the boy turned to his left and saw the castle towers appear, which seemed to him to grow and spring forth from the castle walls. In the middle of the castle stood a high and imposing tower; there, where the waters of the bay fought with the tide, the foot of this mighty barbican was washed by the sea. At the four corners of the walls, built of solid square-cut stones, were
four low turrets, strong and elegant. The castle was very well situated and quite comfortable within. In front of the round entrance tower stood a bridge over the water. Made of stone, sand, and lime, the bridge was strong and high, with battlements all around. In the middle of the bridge was a tower and on the near end a drawbridge, built and ordained for its rightful purpose: a bridge by day and a gate by night.

The boy rode towards the bridge. A gentleman robed in ermine was strolling on the bridge, awaiting the approaching youth. The gentleman held a short staff in his hand to add to his dignity, and was followed by two squires without cloaks. As he approached, the boy remembered well what his mother had taught him, for he greeted him and said: ‘Sir, my mother taught me this.'

‘God bless you, dear brother,' said the gentleman, who saw by his speech that he was a naïve simpleton. He added: ‘Dear brother, where are you from?'

‘Where? From King Arthur's court.'

‘What did you do there?'

‘The king, may God bless him, made me a knight.'

‘A knight? So help me God, I never thought that he would be doing such acts in the present circumstances. I thought the king would be concerned with other things than making knights. Now tell me, my good young man, who gave you this armour?'

‘The king gave it to me.'

‘Gave it? How so?'

And he told him the tale just as you have heard it. If anyone were to tell it again it would be boring and wearisome, for no story improves by repetition. Then the gentleman asked him how skilled he was with his horse.

‘I can make it run up hills and down, just as I could run the hunter I used to have that I took from my mother's house.'

‘Now tell me, dear friend, how you manage your armour.'

‘I know how to put it on and off, just as the squire armed me after he'd stripped the armour from the man I'd killed. And it is so comfortable that it doesn't rub me at all when I'm wearing it.'

‘By God, I am impressed by this,' said the gentleman, ‘and am pleased to hear it. Now don't be offended if I ask what need brought you this way?'

‘Sir, my mother taught me to go up to gentlemen, to take advice from them, and to believe what they tell me, for profit comes to those who believe them.'

The gentleman replied: ‘Dear brother, blessed be your mother, for she advised you well. But don't you wish to ask something else?'

‘Yes.'

‘And what is that?'

‘This and no more: that you give me lodging this day.'

‘Most willingly,' said the gentleman, ‘if you'll grant me a boon that will bring you great profit, as you'll see.'

‘And what is that?' he asked.

‘That you believe your mother's advice and mine.'

‘In faith,' he said, ‘I grant it.'

‘Then dismount.'

So he dismounted. One of the two squires who had come there took his horse and the other removed his armour, leaving him in the coarse robe, the buskins, and the roughly sewn and ill-fitting buckskin cloak that his mother had given him. Then the gentleman had himself equipped with the sharp steel spurs the young man had been wearing, mounted the boy's horse, hung the shield by its strap from his own neck, took the lance, and said: ‘Friend, learn now about weapons and take heed of how you should hold the lance and spur your horse and rein him in.'

Then he unfurled the pennon and showed him how he should grip his shield. He let it hang a little forward so that it rested on the horse's neck, fewtered his lance, then spurred the horse, which was worth a hundred marks of silver, for none ran more swiftly or willingly or mightily. The gentleman was very skilled with shield, horse and lance, for he had practised with them since boyhood; everything the gentleman did pleased and delighted the young man. When he had gone through all his manoeuvres in front of the boy, who had observed them all very carefully, he returned to the youth with lance raised and asked him: ‘Friend, could you manoeuvre the lance and shield like that, and spur and guide your horse?'

And he replied without hesitation that he would not care to live another day, nor possess lands or riches, until he had mastered this ability as well.

‘What one doesn't know can be learned, if one is willing to listen and work,' said the gentleman. ‘My good friend, every profession requires effort and devotion and practice: with these three one can learn everything. And since you've never used weapons nor seen anyone else use them, there's no shame or blame if you don't know how to use them.'

Then the gentleman had him mount and he began to carry the lance and shield as properly as if throughout his life he had frequented the tournaments and wars, and wandered through every land seeking battle and adventure, for it came naturally to him; and since Nature was his teacher and his heart was set upon it, nothing for which Nature and his heart strove could be
difficult. With the help of these two he did so well that the gentleman was delighted and thought to himself that had this young man worked with arms all his life he would truly have been a master.

When the boy had completed his turn he rode back before the gentleman with lance raised, just as he had seen him do, and spoke: ‘Sir, did I do well? Do you think I will gain from any effort if I am willing to make it? My eyes have never beheld anything I've yearned for so much. I truly want to know as much as you do about knighthood.'

‘Friend, if your heart is in it,' said the gentleman, ‘you'll learn much and never experience any difficulty.' Three times the gentleman mounted the horse, three times he demonstrated the weapons until he had showed him all he knew and all there was to show, and three times he had the young man mount.

The last time he said to him: ‘Friend, if you were to meet a knight, what would you do if he struck you?'

‘I'd strike back at him.'

‘And if your lance splintered?'

‘If that happened I'd have no choice but to rush at him with my fists.'

‘Friend, that's not what you should do.'

‘Then what should I do?'

‘Pursue him with your sword and engage him with that.'

Then the gentleman thrust his lance upright into the ground before him, for he was very eager to teach him more about weapons so he would be able to defend himself well with the sword if he were challenged and attack with it when need arose. Then he grasped the sword in his hand. ‘Friend,' he said, ‘this is the way you'll defend yourself if someone assails you.'

‘So help me God,' the boy replied, ‘no one knows more about this than I do, because I often practised, hitting pads and shields at my mother's house until I was weary from it.'

‘Then let's return now to my lodgings,' said the gentleman, ‘for there's nothing more to do; and tonight you'll have proper lodgings, regardless of any objection.'

Then they went on side by side, and the boy said to his host: ‘Sir, my mother taught me never to go with any man or keep his company for long without asking his name. So if her advice was proper, I want to know your name.'

‘My good friend,' said the gentleman, ‘I'm called Gornemant of Gohort.'
¹¹

They continued on towards his lodgings, walking hand in hand. A squire
came unsummoned to the bottom of the staircase carrying a short mantle. He hurried to dress the boy in it so that after the heat of exercise he should not catch a harmful cold. The gentleman had large and splendid lodgings and handsome servants. The meal was noble, well-prepared and splendidly laid out. The knights first washed, then sat down to eat; and the gentleman had the boy sit beside him and made him eat from the same bowl as himself. I'll say no more about how many courses they had or what they were, only that they had plenty to eat and drink. I'll say no more about the meal.

After they had risen from table, the gentleman, who was most courteous, begged the boy seated beside him to stay for a month. Indeed, if he wished, he would gladly detain him a full year and meanwhile would teach him such things, if he were pleased to learn them, as he should know in time of need.

And the boy responded afterwards: ‘Sir, I don't know if I'm near the manor where my mother lives, but I pray God to guide me there so that I might behold her again; for I saw her fall in a faint at the head of the bridge in front of the gate, and I don't know whether she's alive or dead. I am well aware she fainted in grief at my departure, and for this reason until I know how she is I cannot tarry for long. So I must be on my way tomorrow at dawn.'

The gentleman understood that there was no point insisting and kept his silence. Without further conversation they retired to rest, because the beds were already prepared.

The gentleman arose early and came to the boy's bed, where he found him still lying. He had a shift and linen underclothing brought there for the boy, and red-dyed hose and a cloak of violet silk which had been woven in India. He had them brought to him to wear, and said: ‘Friend, you will wear this clothing you see here, if you'll heed my advice.'

And the boy replied: ‘Good sir, surely you don't mean that! Aren't the clothes my mother made me better than any of these? And yet you want me to wear these!'

‘Young man,' said the gentleman, ‘by my head, yours are worse! You assured me, dear friend, when I brought you here that you would heed my every command.'

‘And so I shall,' said the boy, ‘I'll never oppose you in anything at all.'

He hesitated no longer in putting on the new clothes, and left aside those his mother had made for him. The gentleman leaned over and attached the boy's right spur: custom once dictated that he who knighted another should attach his spur. There were many other squires present, and every one who
could came to give him a hand with his armour. And the gentleman took the sword, girded it on him, and kissed him and said that in giving him the sword he had conferred on him the highest order that God had set forth and ordained: that is, the order of knighthood, which must be maintained without villainy.

And he added: ‘Young man, remember that if you are ever compelled to go into combat with any knight, I want to beg one thing of you: if you gain the upper hand and he is no longer able to defend himself or hold out against you, you must grant him mercy rather than killing him outright. And be careful not to be too talkative or prone to gossip. Anyone who is too talkative soon discovers he has said something that brings him reproach; and the wise man says and declares: “He who talks too much commits a sin.” Therefore, young man, I warn you not to talk too much. And I beseech you, if you find a maiden or woman – be she damsel or lady – who is disconsolate in any way, to do right by consoling her if you know how to console her and are able to do so. And do not scorn another lesson I would teach you, for it must not be scorned: go gladly to church and pray to Him who made all things to have mercy on your soul and keep you a true Christian in this earthly life.'

And the youth said to the gentleman: ‘May you be blessed, good sir, by all the popes of Rome, for I heard my mother say the same thing.'

‘You must never again claim, dear brother,' continued the gentleman, ‘that your mother taught or instructed you. I don't blame you at all for having said it until now; but henceforth, begging your pardon, I urge you to correct yourself. For if you continue to say that, people will take you for a fool. Therefore I urge you to refrain from saying that.'

‘Then what shall I say, good sir?'

‘You can say that the vavasour who attached your spur taught and instructed you.'

And the boy promised that he would never again as long as he lived refer to the words of any other master than the vavasour himself, for he thought that that was good advice. The gentleman then blessed him, raising his hand high above him and saying: ‘Good sir, God save you! Be off, and may God guide your steps since it does not please you to delay.'

The new knight left his host and was very impatient to reach his mother and find her alive and well. He set off into the deep forests, where he was more at home than in the open fields, and rode until he saw a strong and mighty castle. Outside its walls there was nothing but the sea, a river, and wasteland. He hastened towards the castle until he came before its gate; but
he had to cross such a fragile bridge before passing through the gate that he thought it would barely hold him. The knight stepped on to the bridge and crossed it without enduring any injury, harm, or shame. He reached the gate but found it locked; he did not knock softly or whisper, but beat upon it so hard that immediately a thin and pale maiden came to the windows of the main hall and said: ‘Who is calling there?'