Part 3

When she heard the knight was to stay she rejoiced greatly, right glad was she of his sojourn. But nought knew she of the trouble he endured since seeing her; never knew he joy or delight save only as he thought of her. And for this he deemed himself given over to evil, in that before he left his own land he had promised his wife to love none save her only. Now is his heart in sore torment; he would fain keep faith, yet can he not withhold him from loving the damsel, Guilliadun, who was so fair to see and hold speech withal, to clip and kiss. Yet hath he resolved not to seek her love, deeming that dishonour, in that he would keep faith with his wife, and in that he was in the king's service. In sore distress was Eliduc. But now he tarries no longer; he mounts his horse, and calls his comrades to him, and goeth to the castle to speak with the king. And if he may he will see the damsel likewise; it was for this chance he went.

The king had risen from meat, and entered into his daughter's chamber; and now he played at chess with a knight from over sea, and thereby taught his daughter who sat on the other side of the board. Eliduc came forward, and the king made him fair semblance, and gave him a place at his side. "Damsel," he saith to his daughter, "you should in truth know this knight, and do him great honour, for among five hundred you will find none better." Now when the maid heard her father's command, she was right glad; and she riseth and calleth to her the knight, and they sat together apart from the rest. Both were kindled with love; she dared not speak to him, and he feared to address her, save to thank her for the gift she had sent him,--none had he ever had so dear and goodly. She answered the knight that of this she was right glad, for she had sent him the ring and the girdle in token she had given herself to him, for she loved him with such a love that she longed to make him her lord; and if she might not have him, one thing she knew of a sooth, never would she have living man,--now let him make known his will. "Lady," said he, "grateful am I for your love, and great joy have I therein; that I am so prized by you maketh me dearly glad, and on my side there will be no withholding. Yet though I remain a year with the king--for I have given him my word not to depart until his war is ended--thereafter I must go back into my own land, for I would not longer remain here, if I may have my leave of you." "Friend, good thanks to you," the damsel maketh answer. "Before that time you, who are so wise and courteous, will well devise what to do with me; I love and trust in you beyond all living creature." Thus they came to good accord, and at that time spoke no more together.

Eliduc goeth to his hostel glad at heart, in that he hath well prospered. Often may he have speech with his friend, and great is the love between them. And thereafter he so bestirred himself in the strife that he seized and captured him who had made war upon the king, and brought peace to all the land. Greatly was he honoured for his prowess, wisdom and largess; and high fortune was his.

Now in time already past, the king of Bretaigne, his liege lord, had sent three messengers from out his land to seek him, in that he was beset and beleagered and harried and pillaged; many of his castles were taken, and all his land laid waste. Right often he repented him that he had parted with Eliduc; ill counsel had been his when that he looked askance upon him. But now the traitors who had slandered and accused him had been banished from the land, and exiled forever; and now he conjured him by his great need, and summoned and besought him by the faith he owed as liegeman and by the oath of his vassalage, that he come now to aid him, for right great was his need.

Eliduc heard the message, and he was full heavy of heart because of the damsel, for he loved her sorely, and she him so much it might not be more. But between them was no lightness or folly or wrong doing, and their love showed itself only in speech and sweet customs and goodly gifts. Her hope and thought was that he should be wholly hers, and that she would hold him to her; for she knew nought of his wife. "Alas," saith he, "ill have I done; too long have I tarried in this region, and on an ill day saw I this land. Here have I loved a maiden, Guilliadun the king's daughter, right sorely, and she me. If I needs must part with her, one of us will die, or both mayhap. And yet it behooves me to go; my liege lord hath sent for me by letter, and conjured me by my oath, and so hath my wife likewise. Now it beseems me to have care. I may not longer abide here, but must needs depart. Were I to marry my love, christianity would not suffer it; all paths lead to ill; on all sides lieth sorrow. God! how she feareth the parting. But I will deal fairly with her, let whoso will blame me; I will do her will, and act according to her counsel. The king her father hath fair peace; no man, I think, will again make war upon him; and so because of my liege lord's need, I will ask leave of him before the day of the term set for my service, and I will go to the damsel and make known to her this matter; she shall tell me her desire herein, and I will fulfil it as well as in me lieth."

The knight tarried no longer, but goeth to ask leave of the king. He speaketh and telleth all the story, and showed and read him his liege lord's letter that had summoned him at need. The king heard the summons, and that the knight would abide there no longer, and he was right grieved and sorry. He offered him good share of his havings, the third part of his heritage, and what was left of his treasure. "If you will but abide here," he saith, "I will do so much for you that you will thank me all the days of your life." "In God's name," saith the knight, "in that my liege is so hard pressed, and hath sent to me from afar off, I must go to him in his need; nor will I in anywise abide here at this time; but if you again have need of my service, I will gladly return unto you, and with good force of knights." For this the king gave him thanks and sweetly granted him leave. And the king further made him free of all the goods of his household, gold and silver, horses and dogs, and stuffs of silk goodly and fair; and of all these he took in measure.

Then he said courteously to the king that with his leave he would gladly go speak with his daughter. "Right willingly," the king made answer, and sent with him a damsel to open the chamber. So Eliduc goeth to speak with the maiden, and so soon as she saw him she called him to her, and gave him greeting a thousand times. He showed her his affair, and briefly maketh known to her his going; but before he had told her all, or had asked leave of her, she lost her colour, and swooned for very sorrow. Now when Eliduc saw her swoon, he began to make lament; many times he kissed her on the mouth, and weepeth right tenderly; and he took her and held her in his arms until she recovered her senses. "In God's name, sweet friend," saith he, "suffer me to speak to you for a little; you are my life and my death, and in you lies all my comfort, wherefore now I would take counsel with you because of the faith that is between us. 'Tis for dire need that I return into my own land and have asked leave of your father; yet will I do your pleasure herein, whatsoever may befall me." "Take me with you," saith she, "sith ye will not remain here; or if you will not have it so, then will I slay myself, for without you never shall I know joy or gladness." Eliduc answered her gently, for much he loved her with true love: "Fair one, I am of a truth pledged by oath to your father's service until the day when our term was set, and if I take you with me now I shall belie my faith. But truly I swear and promise you that if you will grant me leave, and appoint a respite, and name a day when you would have me return to you again, nothing in the world shall keep me from you if I be a living man and sound. My life is wholly in your hands." When the damsel heard his great love, she appointed a term, and named a day when he should come and take her away with him. Great sorrow they made at parting; they exchanged rings of gold, and sweetly each kissed the other.

Then Eliduc rode down to the sea. The wind was fair and the passage short; and when he was come into his own land again, his liege lord rejoiced and made merry. So did his friends and kinsmen, and other folk likewise, but more than all others his good wife who was so fair and wise and valiant. But always he was sad because of the love by which he was held captive, and never for any thing he saw would he show joy or gladness; never will he be of good cheer till he see his sweet friend again. Well he guarded his secret and ever he kept his own counsel. His wife was grieved at heart and knew not what it might mean, and to herself made great lament. Often she asked him if he had heard any say that she had misdone while he was out of the land; willingly would she clear herself before his people, whensoever it should please him. "Lady," saith he, "none hath accused you of fault or misdeed. But in the land where I have been I have given oath and pledge to the king that I will return to him again, for that he hath right great need of me. If the king my lord were at peace I should not abide here eight days. Sore travail must I endure before I can return thither, and never shall I know joy or gladness until I have so done, for I would not belie my oath." Thereafter the dame let be.

Eliduc, meantime, was with his lord; much he aided and strengthened him, and the king acted ever after his counsel and maintained all the land. But when the term drew near that the damsel had appointed, he set himself to make peace, and brought all his enemies to accord. Thereafter he made him ready to set forth, together with such folk as he desired to take with him,--his two nephews whom he greatly loved, his squire, and one of his chamberlains, who was in the counsel of those twain and carried their messages. He had no care for other folk, and these he made swear and promise to keep his counsel.

He tarried no longer, but took the sea, and speedily won the other shore, and came into the country where he was so sore desired. Eliduc was right cunning, and took lodging far from the haven, for that he desired not to be seen or known or discovered. He made ready his chamberlain and sent him to his love, and made known to her that he had come, well had he obeyed her commandment; and he bade her that night, when all was dark, that she should issue out of the city, together with the chamberlain, and that he would meet her. The messenger changed his garments and set forth on foot in all haste; straight to the city he went where dwelt the king's daughter, and he so sought and contrived that he entered into her chamber. He gave greeting to the damsel and told her that her love had come. When she heard the news she was sore abashed and shaken, full softly she wept for joy, and many a time she kissed the messenger. He told her how at dusk she was to go with him; and all day they were together and devised well concerning their going. At night when it was wholly dusk, the youth issued out of the city and the damsel with him, and none other save those two only. She was dressed in stuff of silk but scantly broidered with gold, and all wrapped about in a short mantle; in great fear was she lest she be seen.

A bow's shot from the gate was a wood enclosed by a goodly paling, and beside it her friend awaited their coming. Thither the chamberlain brought her, and the knight lighted down from his horse and kissed her; great joy was theirs at being together again. Then he set her upon his horse, and mounted likewise, and took the reins and rode off in all haste. They came unto the haven of Totness, and entered into the ship forthright; no other company was there save only Eliduc's followers and Guilliadun his friend. The wind was fresh and fair and the weather serene.

But when they were about to come to land, there was a storm upon the sea, and a head wind arose that drave them far from the haven, and broke and splintered their masts, and tore all their sails. They called devotely upon God and Saint Nicolas and Saint Clement, and Our Lady, Saint Mary, that she beseech aid of her son, that he save them from destruction and suffer them to come into the haven. Now forward and now back, so are they driven along the shore; right sore was their peril. Then one of the shipmen cried aloud: "What can we do? Sir, here within you have with you her by reason of whom we perish; never shall we reach land. You are married to a loyal wife, yet besides, you carry with you this other, against God and the law, against right and faith and justice. Let us cast her into the sea, then shall we straightway come to shore." Eliduc heareth what he saith and is well nigh burnt with anger. "Dog," he saith, "foul traitor, say not so a second time. If I could leave my love I would make you pay dear." But even then he was holding her in his arms, and was giving such comfort as he might against the sickness she had from the sea, and for that she had heard her lord had a wife other than herself in his own land. She turned all pale and fell down in a swoon, and so she remained, and neither revived nor breathed forth even a sigh. And those who helped her friend bear her thence thought of a truth that she was dead. As for him he made great sorrow; and sprang to his feet and ran swiftly towards the sailor who had spoken, and struck him with an oar that he felled him flat, then he seized him by the leg and cast him over the ship's side that the waves bore away his body. Then after he had cast him into the sea, he took the helm, and so guided and directed the boat that he brought her into the haven and came to land; and when she rode safe, they lowered the bridge and cast anchor.

But Guilliadun still lay in a swoon and seemed as one dead. Eliduc made right great sorrow and was full fain of death likewise. He asked of his companions what counsel they could give him as to where he might carry the damsel, for he would not part with her, and she should be buried in holy ground with great honour and high estate, in that she was a king's daughter, and such was her right. But his comrades were all abashed and could in no wise counsel him. So Eliduc set himself to think to what spot he should bear her. His house was so near the sea he might be there at the hour of meat, and round about his house lay a forest a good thirty leagues of length. Therewithin dwelt a hermit, and near his cell he had a chapel; forty years had he dwelt there, and Eliduc had ofttimes spoken with him. To him, he saith, he will bear the damsel, and bury her there in the chapel, and he will give of his land enough to found an abbey, and to establish there a convent of monks and nuns and chanons, who every day shall pray for her that God grant her sweet mercy. Then he let bring the horses, and bade all mount, but first he had them all give oath that they would keep his secret. Thereafter they set out, and he himself bore his love before him on his palfrey.

They followed the highroad so long that they entered into the forest and came to the chapel; there they knocked and called, but found none to answer or open to them, and at last the knight sent one of his men forward to unbar the door. Eight days before, the holy hermit, that perfect one, had died, and within they found the new made tomb. Right sorry was Eliduc and sore troubled; his comrades would fain have made ready a grave wherein he might lay his friend, but he thrust them back, saying: "This shall not be until I have taken counsel with the wise folk of the land how I may sanctify this place with abbey and minster. Meanwhile, we will lay her before the altar and commend her to God."

So he let bring his cloak, and straightway a couch was made whereon they laid the damsel, and left her as one dead. But when the knight came to depart he thought to die of sorrow. He kissed her eyes and face: "Fair one," saith he, "may it not be God's will that I bear arms henceforth, or live the life of the world. Fair friend, on an ill day did you set eyes on me, and on an ill day you followed me, sweet love. Fair one, a queen you were, and the love with which you loved me was loyal and true. Right sore is my heart for you, and that day whereon I shall bury you I will receive the order of monkhood; and each day will I lay my sorrow upon your tomb." Therewith he departed from the damsel and shut behind him the door of the chapel.

He sent a messenger to his house, and let his wife know he was coming, but was weary and spent. When she heard the tidings she was right glad thereof, and made herself ready against his coming. Right fairly she received her lord, but little joy had he thereof, for he made no good cheer, nor said any fair word; and no one dared ask him aught. Two days he spent in the house in this manner: early in the morning he heard mass, and then set forth on the highway, and rode to the chapel in the wood where lay the damsel. He found her ever in the swoon, and ever she gave forth no sigh, nor revived, nor recovered her wit; yet it seemed to him a great marvel that she was still so red and white, and save that she was a little pale had not changed colour. Right bitterly he wept for her, and prayed for her soul; and when he had made his prayer, he returned home again.

One morning as they came from mass his wife had him watched by one of his servants, and she promised the varlet if he rode far, and saw whither her lord went, she would give him horse and arms. The youth did her commandment; he entered into the wood, and followed after the knight in such wise that he should not be seen. Well he watched, and saw how he entered the chapel, and heard the lament he made there; but before Eliduc issued forth, he returned again to his lady. All he had heard he told her: the grief, the noise and the outcry her lord had made in the chapel hermitage. All her heart was moved thereby, and she saith: "Let us go straightway, and seek through the chapel. My lord, methinketh, will ride forth soon, for he goeth to the court today to speak with the king. The hermit died a while agone, and I know that my lord loved him well, yet never for him would he make such sorrow." So at that time she let the matter be.

That same day past noon, Eliduc goeth to hold speech with the king, and his wife setteth forth with the varlet, who bringeth her to the hermitage; so she entered into the chapel, and saw the bed of the damsel who was like unto a fresh rose; she turned back the coverlet, and saw her slender body, her fair arms and white hands, and her long, smooth, delicate fingers. Now she knoweth the truth, and why her lord maketh such sorrow. She calleth to her the varlet, and showed him the wonder: "See now this woman who is like unto a gem for beauty. She is the love of my lord, and 't is for her he maketh such lament, and by my faith, I marvel not thereat, sith so fair a woman hath perished. What for pity and what for love, I shall never know joy again." Then she began to weep and make lament for the maiden.

Now as she sat weeping beside the bed, a weasel issued out from under the altar and ran thither, and in that it had passed over the body, the varlet struck it with his staff and killed it. He cast it aside, but before a man might run a league, its mate sped thither and saw the spot where it lay. The small beast ran about the head of its fellow, and stirred it gently with its foot, and when it failed to rouse that other, it seemed to make great sorrow, and issued out of the chapel and sought among the herbs of the wood. There it seized in its teeth a flower, all bright red of colour, and sped quickly back, and placed the blossom in the mouth of its dead mate, in such wise that, lo you, it forthwith came to life. The lady saw this and cried to the boy: "Stop it, throw your staff, good youth, let it not escape you." So the varlet threw and struck it, that it let fall the blossom. The lady riseth and taketh it, and speedily returneth again, and layeth the flower upon the lips of the maid who was so fair. And when it had rested there a little space, she breathed forth a sigh and revived, and thereafter opened her eyes and spake: "God! how I have slept," saith she.

Now when the dame heard her speak, she gave thanks to God, and asked the maid who she was; and she made answer: "Lady, I am of Logres, daughter to a king of that land. Greatly I loved a man of arms, Eliduc, the good knight. He carried me away with him, but he sinned in that he deceived me, for that he is married to a wife, yet never told me, nor made any sign thereof. When I heard speak of his wife I must needs swoon for the sorrow that I had; and churlishly he hath left me all uncounselled in a strange land; he hath betrayed me, yet wherefore I know not. Great is her folly who setteth her trust in a man."

"Fair one," the dame answered her, "there is nought living in all the world that can give him joy,--this I can tell you of a sooth. He thinketh you to be dead, and he is so out of all comfort that it is marvel to see. Each day he cometh to look on you, and deemeth you lifeless beyond all doubt. I am his wife, and my heart is heavy for him; because of the grief he showed I wished to know whither he went, and I followed after him and found you; great joy have I that you are on live. I will take you with me and give you back to your friend. For my part I will cry him quit of all, and will take the veil." In this wise the dame comforted her, and led her away.

The lady made ready her servant and sent for her lord. The boy rideth until he findeth Eliduc; he greeted him courteously and told him all the adventure. The knight mounteth a horse, nor stayeth for any squire, and that same night he reached his own house. When he found his love living, right sweetly he thanked his wife. Full joyful was Eliduc, never on any day was he so glad; often he kissed the maid, and she him right sweetly, and together they made great joy. When his wife saw their countenance, she bespoke her lord, and asked and besought his leave that she might depart from him, for that she would fain be a nun and serve God. And she besought him that he give her part of his land whereon to found an abbey; and further, she bade him take to wife the maid he so loved; for it is not meet or seemly that a man maintain two wives, nor will the law suffer it. Eliduc accorded to her wish, and took leave of her in all gentleness, saying he would do her will in all things, and would give her of his land.

In a boscage, not far from the castle and hard by the chapel and the hermitage, she established her church and let build her houses; wide lands and goodly possessions her lord joined to these, that she may have good maintenance there,--well will she have wherewithal to live. And when all was well brought to an end, the lady let veil her head, and thirty nuns with her, and there took up her life and her order.

Eliduc wedded his love; with great honour and rich service was the feast held on the day he married her. Long they lived together, and right perfect was the love between them. Many deeds of goodness and of alms they did, until at last they turned them wholly to God. Then near the castle upon the other side, Eliduc let build a church, and added thereto the more part of his land, and all his gold and silver; and men of good religion he placed there to maintain the house and the order. And when all was made ready he delayed no longer, but he, together with his wife, surrendered themselves to the service of God omnipotent.