Archive of Our Own

Translator's Introduction:

The following text exists in only a single manuscript, British Library MS Add. 10138, discovered in the private collection of Chloe Lister upon Ms. Lister's death in 2009. The manuscript contains no other texts, and I have found no reference to the work in other contemporary authors, but the quality of the penmanship is high and the manuscript contains several beautiful illuminations, suggesting that perhaps it was privately commissioned. A note in the header of the first folio refers to the text as "La Pucele Sage," while the explicit calls it "Lunete et Ondine"; each seems equally appropriate, so I have included both. Although the author names himself as Chrétien de Troyes, medieval France's foremost romancier, a number of factors make it clear that this claim is blatantly false. In the first place, the text's language and style, along with an examination of the handwriting, make most scholars who have studied the manuscript conclude that it can be placed in the latter half of the thirteenth century, decades after Chrétien's death. One notable exception is M. Stephen Grace, who has argued in a 2010 article that the manuscript is an eighteenth-century forgery. If it is, it's a convincing one; see Brenner 2011. It was probably not written in France, but in Norman England. At a little under 1300 lines, it is far shorter than any of Chrétien's extant romances, including the dubiously-attributed Guillaume d'Angleterre. And then, of course, there's the homoeroticism.

Since the text's discovery, numerous critics have commented on the implied romantic/erotic relationship between its heroines, Lunete and the younger Noire Espine sister, whom the author names Ondine, even if, as in the case of Kyle N. Meyers, it is only to reject this reading in favor of a platonic one. (The prologue, which spends twenty-five lines expounding on the nature of love, becomes very confusing if the romance is to be read platonically; since there is no heterosexual love interest, why the discussion of love? I find Meyers's discussion of the prologue unconvincing; for more on this particular debate, see Tawley 2011, and Kay 2009.) Regardless of how one interprets the text, the focus on two female protagonists is out of keeping with Chrétien's typical plot constructions. One must conclude that if Chrétien had written a work so different in subject matter and style, it would have attracted contemporary attention and would exist in far more than the single manuscript of Lunete et Ondine that we have.

Whoever the author is, he (or she; see Tawley 2011) seems to have been an enthusiastic reader of other medieval literature; Georgina Stevens offers an interesting discussion of the "riddle episode" between Lunete and the Lady of Avalon, comparing it to the Anglo-Saxon riddle tradition illustrated in the Exeter Book riddles, while Theresa Brenner argues, based on the presence of the magical net, that the author must have read Der Stricker's thirteenth-century romance Daniel von dem Blühenden Tal. Obviously, our author read Chrétien's Le Chevalier au Lion, as Lunete et Ondine seems to be a sequel to this romance, and it seems clear from the reference to Lancelot and Guenevere in the prologue that he or she read Le Chevalier de la Charrette as well. Brenner also claims that the Orgueilleuse of Lunete et Ondine is meant to be read as the same Haughty Maiden of Logres whom Gawain serves in Le Conte du Graal, but this seems unlikely. Similarly, the Esclabor the Red here seems to have no relation to Esclabor the Unknown, father of Sir Palamedes; the name was probably chosen for its similarity to the name "Esclados," since the author shows a tendency to give siblings alliterative names.

At any rate, despite its obscurity, I feel the work will probably be of interest to anyone seeking to investigate the role of women or alternative sexualities in medieval romance, as well as issues of imitation and the influence of folklore traditions on medieval literature. I have aimed for accuracy rather than poetry in my translation, although in some places I have broken the author's long periodic constructions into shorter sentences, and I've divided the work into stanzas or paragraphs of uneven length based on sense, in order to make the poem easier to read. I have made no attempts whatsoever to recreate the meter or rhyme, for which I hope my readers will forgive me.

Lunete and Ondine, or The Clever Maiden

He is a fool who denies the power of Love;
For neither reason nor strength nor virtue
Can withstand the force of his arrows.
Love has been the ruin of many a king
And the cause of suffering for many a young lover
But a true and virtuous love
Is the cause of all that is good and noble;
It makes of a white-haired old man a brave young hero,
It makes of a poor woman a queen.
It judges neither by birth nor beauty nor sex.
It improves all who willingly bear its toils.
In the days of King Arthur and his noble court,
Love strengthened the hearts of all worthy knights
And propelled them to great deeds of chivalry.

I, Chrétien, who wrote of the love of Yvain for his fair lady
And of Lancelot for Guenevere, the queen,
Know well how love once ruled the conduct of men and ladies.
In those days, love flourished among good people
And the joys and pains of lovers
Were shared by all alike.
But nowadays the world is full of jealous people,
With filthy minds and spiteful hearts,
Who are such enemies of happiness
That they cannot see it anywhere without great anger,
And always seek to destroy it with their malicious gossip.
I turn from the wretched confines of the present
And seek the glories of the past
In the story of clever Lunete
And her lady, fair Ondine.

In May, when the lark sings in the brush
And the breeze is warm and fragrant,
Yvain, who ruled in the land of the magic fountain,
Held a feast for his lord, King Arthur of the Britons,
And all the knights of his court.
King Arthur was overjoyed at the hospitality
Of Yvain and his noble wife Laudine, the lady of Landuc;
The finest of foods and wines were laid out,
Silk and linen tapestries were hung from windows
And draped over walls and couches
And maidens played beautiful, lively tunes
On flute and viol, causing everyone there
To sigh in pleasure.

The knights of Arthur's court were equally glad
To see their comrade and friend.
Sir Gawain, who loved Yvain's company above all others,
Sat near to him and told stories of his adventures
While Sir Calogrenant sat by the Lady Laudine
And served her throughout the meal.
Gawain and Yvain, who were such models
Of chivalry and courtliness that no one
Could say with impartial tongue
That he might outdo them
Nor which of them was the better knight,
Each delighted in the other's friendship.

Yvain's happiness was perfect,
But Gawain's was marred by a flaw:
His friend, Lunete,
That maiden of such cleverness and ingenuity,
Was nowhere to be seen.
A man who was more brash
And less mindful of courtly manners
Might have asked his host
About this notable absence,
In the presence of wife, court, and all;
Sir Gawain, who shone with courtesy and tact,
Drew Sir Yvain to one side to a quiet corner
And asked, "My dear friend Yvain,
Where is the maiden Lunete,
My wise and gentle friend?
By God, if anyone at your court
Has earned a share in your happiness,
It is she, who saved your life
And made peace between you and your wife."

Then smiles were turned to frowns for Yvain
And laughs to sighs, and he said with a mournful face,
"Sir Gawain, it is true that Lunete
Has served me faithfully and well,
Ending the strife between my lady and me.
But alas, though before the trust between Lunete and my lady
Was as true and strong as any friendship,
Since she tricked Laudine into forgetting her anger,
Using deception to compel her forgiveness,
My lady's love for the maid Lunete
Has turned to resentment and suspicion.
What am I to do?
I owe Lunete a debt of gratitude
That no man could ever repay,
And it is only a churl who forgets his debts;
A man of honor repays them with interest.
Yet I cannot forget that it is my own foolishness
That cost me my wife's goodwill;
Surely if I rouse her anger again,
I will not obtain forgiveness so easily.
And a man owes his wife his allegiance,
For they are to be as one flesh.
And so I am torn,
As a man who is trapped between fire on one side
And savage beasts on the other.
On the one side, he will be burned,
On the other side, he will be ripped apart!
There is no safe path!"

Sir Yvain was downcast and unhappy,
Pricked most cruelly by honor.
Many a man has felt this pain,
When he has only bad choices to choose from.
Sir Gawain, as clever as he was courteous,
Assured his friend that he would solve his dilemma
And took himself from the table,
Begging leave from his host and hostess.
He searched the castle high and low,
In every chamber he searched for the maiden.

Finally he found her in a small chamber
That looked out on the courtyard.
He was shocked at her changed appearance;
Her face, which had been as beautiful
As a full moon in the spring
Was pale and wan and sad
Her hair hung lank and undressed
And her clothing was shabby.
He greeted her with cheerful grace,
and asked her what had caused this change.

"Sir, since you ask me to speak
I shall tell you the truth.
It is because of my advice
And my ingenuity
That my lady has received Sir Yvain as her lord again.
I acted for both her interests and his,
And the land has never been safer or more prosperous,
But all of this good is undone in my lady's eyes
When she remembers that I made her swear to forgive him
Before she knew what she was swearing.
Indeed, people are always ready to forget a good thing done to them
And remember a bad thing.
And so she is angry with me,
As she was when first my lord left to go to tournaments with you.
But at that time, my lord Sir Yvain returned to defend me
While now, I have no champion.
I have fallen out of her favor,
And I see no way to return to her good graces."

"Is there no way for you to be reconciled?" asked the good knight.
"I would gladly speak for you to your lady."

"I thank you, dear friend," replied the maiden,
"But I fear it is of no use. The women of my lady's court,
For whom I have done so many kindnesses,
Have tried to intercede on my behalf,
But my lady's ears are deaf to their words.
Even the most courteous and gentle heart
Can be hardened when it feels it has been wronged."

"Why then," Sir Gawain said, "you should go
To King Arthur's court at Carlisle.
For his court is the seat of honor and chivalry,
And any fair and gentle maiden
Will be received there with fine welcome
Among the queen's ladies."

"Sir Gawain," said the maiden,
"You are the model of chivalry and kindness,
And I do not doubt that if I went there in your company,
They would receive me honorably for your sake.
But I have been to the king's court,
On an errand from my lady,
And none there spoke a word to me
Save my lord Sir Yvain,
Perhaps because I did not behave myself
As a maiden ought to at so fine a court,
Or perhaps because my own birth
Is not as gentle as that of many a young lady.
Whatever the reason, I have no desire
To trade one place where I am not wanted
For another. No, I fear that I must leave
And seek out another court
Where, God willing, I may be of use."

Sir Gawain considered this
And finally agreed that she was right.
But where could she go?
In those days, as it is today,
It was no small thing for a maiden
Without father or husband or name
To leave a position of longstanding
And seek her living elsewhere.
But Sir Gawain, whose name was known
From the coasts of Ireland
And east to the land of Armenia
And south to the Holy Land
Knew a place for her.

He said to her, "Fair sister,
When your lord was yet known as
The Knight of the Lion,
Defender of innocent womanhood,
We fought over the inheritance of Noire Espine.
The eldest sister, the arrogant and malicious Orgueilleuse,
Said that she would take all of the land
Left to them by their father, the Lord of Noire Espine,
And would yield none of it to her sister,
The fair Ondine, unless forced to do so
By the court of King Arthur, most just of kings.
Because she sought my aid before the other,
And I am bound to help all maidens who beseech me,
I fought for Orgueilleuse,
While the Knight of the Lion fought to defend
The rights of Ondine.
The fight was declared a draw, but
Ondine was granted her share of the inheritance,
And was made liegewoman of her sister,
And she bore no ill will to any.
She is a gentle and generous maiden,
And if you go to her,
She will surely welcome you
For my sake and Sir Yvain's."

Lunete listened carefully to his counsel
And thought it wise.
She begged her leave of Sir Yvain and her lady,
And received it with good grace.
Taking only those articles which were hers,
And dressed simply,
As befits a modest and humble maiden,
She began her journey alone.
She traveled through many lands,
Riding day and night,
Until she reached the land of Noire Espine,
Where she saw two castles.

The first was grand, well-fortified and buttressed,
And looming with many towers over the plain.
The second was small and unassuming,
But well-made and attractive.
The clever Lunete knew that the first castle
Must be that of the haughty Orgueilleuse,
And the second one
The castle of her younger sister,
The fair and courteous Ondine.
She rode to the gate and politely begged an audience
With the castle's lady.
She was led into the hall of the castle,
Where the lady Ondine
Was seated with her maids,
Conversing most merrily and pleasantly with them
And embroidering fine patterns
On gold and silk cloth.

Ondine was young and as fresh
As a rosebud in the springtime.
There has never yet been a poet
Who could describe the beauty of her face,
So well-shaped it was, as smooth as if
It had been polished by a skilled craftsman.
Her hair fell shining to her waist,
Her brown eyes were laughing and clever,
Her nose was straight and noble in shape,
Her mouth was made to be kissed.
In my opinion, God has not made a woman
Who ever surpassed her for beauty;
She was fair when Sir Yvain defended her against her sister
And she grew more beautiful daily,
As does the flower shining with morning dew.

Many a fair face can hide an arrogant heart,
Making it ugly,
But this was not the case with Ondine,
Who was as courteous and gentle
As she was beautiful,
Skilled in embroidery,
And wise beyond measure, just in her every action.
Truly, her people could not have wished for a better lady.
She rose to greet Lunete as she entered.
"Welcome, maiden, whoever you are," said Ondine to Lunete.
"I do not know where you have come from,
But if you wish it, you shall be well lodged here."

Lunete acknowledged this greeting with a humble bow.
She marked the beauty of Ondine's well-formed body
And the brightness of her eyes,
And she was struck in her heart and thought
That she would never be happy unless she might serve this lady.
"I am called Lunete," she said, "and I thank you for your generosity.
In God's name, I wish for nothing more than to be your servant.
Only give me some task to do,
And I will do my best to help you in whatever way I can,
And serve you gladly."

Ondine noted Lunete's bright eyes and clever hands
And said, "Lunete, as God is my witness,
I have certainly heard your name!
In King Arthur's court,
I have heard how you preserved the life
Of Sir Yvain, using a magic ring
To hide him from his enemies,
And I have heard of the wise counsel
You gave to the Lady Laudine, so that she trusted you
Above her seneschal and all her men.
You are welcome here for as long as you wish to stay,
And I would be glad of your help, friend!"

Ondine was as good as her word,
And she dressed Lunete in fine clothing from her own wardrobe,
And seated her across from her at the table,
Giving her the finest of food and drinks.
Lunete served Ondine loyally and well.
She offered her counsel on every topic.
Before she had come, the lesser knights and vavasors
Had fought with each other,
For all knew that the elder sister Orgueilleuse
Considered herself higher and more deserving,
And so her men treated those of her sister
With rudeness and arrogance
And nobody could agree on anything.

But because of Lunete's cleverness
The land of Noire Espine became quiet and peaceful;
For there was nobody so skilled
At giving each person exactly what he wanted
As was Lunete, the clever maiden.
Being also well-taught in mathematics and philosophy,
She made certain that everyone received his fair share,
And she assisted her lady when making decisions.
Everyone in the land praised her conduct and her virtue,
And she was honored everywhere she went.

But nobody held her in such high esteem
As that fair Ondine, who yearned always to be with her
So that she never wished to be parted from her.
She frequently said to herself,
"Surely no woman has ever had a friend
So loyal and clever as Lunete.
The lady who let my friend leave her
Was a fool, for I would sooner die
Than be separated from my dear companion."
Her lady, Orgueilleuse, who was harsh and haughty,
Spoke sharply to her about Lunete, saying,
"You should not be a companion to this maiden,
Or she will betray you,
As she betrayed Laudine, the lady of Landuc.
Our father was the duke of Noire Espine;
Who was Lunete's father?
What castle or tower was he the lord of?"

Ondine was not distressed by Orgueilleuse's words,
Because she knew her sister was jealous,
And jealous people can never stand it
When others are happy.
She said, "Only a fool thinks someone's birth is important.
Worth is determined by virtue,
And one has only to look at a person's deeds
To determine their worth.
Lunete performed admirable service for Laudine,
But later their friendship was turned to hate
Because of the service Lunete performed for Yvain.
She has brought peace and order to our land
And God knows that I know nobody
More prudent and courtly and wise.
Anyone can see that I love her for her own sake
And not for the sake of her father."

Orgueilleuse had to be silent then
Because she could not answer Ondine.
This is always how it is with jealous people,
Who can never defend their baseless accusations.
Ondine did not heed her sister's spiteful words
But spent her days with Lunete
And thus greatly increased her happiness.
She loved and cherished her so much
That at every meal she insisted
That Lunete sit next to her,
And at night they shared a bed
And slept next to each other
Because they could not bear to be parted.

Lunete likewise loved Ondine dearly
Because Ondine was a gentle and prudent lady,
Who governed her people fairly;
She preserved all that was just
And abolished all that was unjust.
The maiden did not fear to speak openly
In her lady's presence
And was rewarded with love and esteem.
This was wise on her part;
Many reject very wise advice because they do not like it,
But a wise man knows the difference
Between flattery and good sense.
Ondine was not the kind to turn her nose up at honesty,
And Lunete loved her for it.
She forgot about the pain caused
By her quarrel with Lady Laudine,
And never gave a thought
To the land of the magic fountain,
So greatly did she honor and care for her lady.
You have never seen two creatures
Who took such pleasure in each other's company.
And they were one heart and one soul;
Nothing was lacking for them
And they wanted nothing.

But anyone who is wise knows
That Fortune is a fickle friend.
Very often she has granted her favors
To a prince or a king,
But when they are at the peak of their powers,
Her good will turns to hatred
And from the greatest wealth and authority
They are cast down into poverty and obscurity.
What is gained one day is lost the next,
And he who is happy will soon mourn.
So it was for the ladies of Noire Espine.

One day Lunete and Ondine were playing chess
And making merry in their great hall
When the herald announced
That Orgueilleuse, the lady of Noire Espine,
Had arrived. And no sooner had he spoken
Than she came through the door.
Her former beauty was ruined,
For her eyes were red with crying
And her hair was disheveled from pulling,
And she wrung her hands with distress.
"For God's sake, sister," said Ondine to her,
"Tell me, what is the matter?
Nothing can please me
Until I find out what is troubling you."

"That is the reason I have come here,"
Said the lady. "A giant has attacked my castle
Most brutally. He has razed my towns
And stolen my sheep
And killed my knights,
And he says that he will not stop his destruction
Until I have given myself to him in marriage.
But it is absurd that I should marry such a man;
I would rather die than do so.
To kill my people and sack my land
Is no kind of chivalry or courtesy,
And a wicked man
Should receive no good as his reward.
Yet my advisers,
Who are so weak and cowardly
That none of them would dare to face this giant
Say I should give myself to him,
So that my vassals might not suffer on my account.
Throughout all the land
People talk of nothing but the wisdom of your maiden,
So I have come to see if she will help me.
If she will not, we are both lost,
For surely the giant will not be satisfied with my land
But will move on to steal from yours,
And if I am forced to marry him,
Then he will be your liege lord,
And we will all be subject to his depravity."

Ondine and Lunete were both shocked and saddened
To see Orgueilleuse's pride
Brought so low by such a misfortune.
Lunete said, "Of course I will do whatever I can
To aid you, my lady, in your time of distress.
Only leave me some time to think
And decide what is the best thing to do."

The lady granted this, and her younger sister,
As soft-hearted as she was beautiful, said,
"Do not go back to your castle tonight, sister,
But stay here, and you will eat and drink well,
And sleep in a soft bed,
And you can return tomorrow refreshed and revived."

Orgueilleuse accepted her sister's hospitality,
But the meal was somber,
For, as anyone can tell you,
The finest dishes in the world
Will taste like bitter ash and dust
When your mind is full of gloom and sadness.
Everyone present bid each other goodnight
And went their separate ways in silence.

In bed that night Ondine could not sleep.
She tossed and turned,
First too hot and then too cold.
Her mind was troubled by the news
Her sister had brought.
She woke Lunete, who was next to her
Asleep in the bed, and said,
"Dear friend, I am at my wit's end
And don't know what to do.
How will we save my sister's land and body
From this crude and wicked giant?
I have few fighting men, and my sister's men
Are cowardly and lazy.
Of everyone I know,
No one is as clever or wise as you.
Please, give me what counsel you can!"

Lunete replied, "Because there are no
Knights here and no men brave enough
To fight this savage giant,
We must go and seek aid elsewhere.
The court of King Arthur is known far and wide
As the model for courtesy and chivalry,
And there are many noble knights there
Who seek adventure,
And will willingly offer their arms
In defense of those who seek their help.
There I know lives Sir Gawain,
The noblest of knights,
Who will refuse no request for aid,
As well you know.
There is also the court of Laudine,
Who once was my lady,
And her husband, Sir Yvain;
He was your defender
When your sister arrogantly refused
To grant you your inheritance.
He is the flower of chivalry,
The defender of maidens and ladies everywhere.
You must send messengers to them,
To explain the situation,
And if you find no help in either court,
You must send for help somewhere else."

Ondine said, "There is no one
That I trust so much as you.
Will you go to the court of King Arthur,
Fair friend, will you seek aid
In the land of the magic fountain?"

Lunete shook her head with eyes downcast
And replied, "My dear lady,
I fear that my intercession
Will do you little good.
I have been twice to the court at Carlisle,
And once I was snubbed by the ladies and knights
Because of my birth or because of my conduct
Which perhaps was not so ladylike.
Once I went there to seek aid
And a defense against the slander
Of my lady's seneschal;
I found nobody to help me,
Because nobody is willing to help
A person he despises,
No matter what good they might do him.
If I go there seeking help,
No doubt they will send me away again.
And you know quite well
That I left my lady Laudine
Because she believed I had betrayed her.
The love between us was turned to resentment,
And her husband, Sir Yvain,
Was torn between the loyalty
A man owes his friend and that which he owes his wife
And did not know what to do.
No, someone else must go to the courts
Of King Arthur and the lady Laudine.
I will seek assistance elsewhere,
And I shall not rest or return
Until I have found someone to help
Defeat this giant and free you and your sister
From his villainous violence."

The prudent Ondine said,
"When first I went to King Arthur's court,
I found no one to help me defend my inheritance,
But later Sir Yvain fought on my behalf
And the king granted me my land.
I will go to Carlisle and the king's court
And to Sir Yvain and Lady Laudine,
And I will see if they will grant me
What you say they will deny you."
The decision had been made,
So they went to sleep then.

In the morning they arose and went to hear mass.
Lady Ondine announced, "Sister,
Lunete and I will go to seek some knight
Brave and skilled enough to defeat the giant.
I beg you to take care of my lands and my people
In my absence; I will return with help."
Lady Orgueilleuse granted this.
The time had come to depart.

Ondine prepared fine palfreys for them
And for the six maidens who would accompany her.
She offered another six maidens to Lunete,
To keep her company on her journey,
But Lunete said, "My dear lady,
I will go alone.
One rider can travel much more quickly
Than seven, and I do not know
How far I will have to go.
But please accept this ring from me:
It is magic, and so long as you wear it
And remember me,
No harm can befall you, and no wall can imprison you."

Ondine smiled and kissed her friend, and said,
"I have no magic gift to offer you, sweet sister,
But please accept this ring from me,
And show it when you need shelter or aid;
Perhaps those who know me
Will grant it to you for love of me,
Or perhaps you can trade it for what you need
For the stone in this ring is costly."
And so they embraced and departed,
Each going her separate way.

Ondine rode first to the king's court at Carlisle.
She explained the situation to King Arthur
And asked if any at his court would be willing
To fight in defense of Noire Espine.
King Arthur replied, "Fair friend,
Your distress pains me most grievously,
And I would gladly undertake your defense,
But alas! The king of Gorre has said
That if I do not defeat him,
He will take over my lands and add them to his kingdom;
Already he has razed several towers
And sacked several towns,
And he has taken prisoners, whom he treats most cruelly.
Every knight in my kingdom
Is fighting in its defense,
Because it is a foolish man who rides to a foreign land
To seek adventure and a chance to prove his prowess
When a foreigner threatens his homeland;
Surely any man who will not defend his king
Is a coward and a worthless oath-breaker.
God willing we will be victorious;
If the giant still harasses you then,
Return, and I have no doubt
That a dozen knights will strive to see
Who can be the first to offer his help."

Feeling downcast and depressed,
Ondine thanked the king and rode on.
She rode until she found the cold and clear stream
And the beautiful tree,
And the basin that causes a terrible storm
When its water is spilled on a certain stone.
She knew then that she had found Landuc, the realm
Of Lady Laudine and Sir Yvain, son of Urien.
She continued until she reached their castle,
And she was granted an audience with the lord and lady.
She explained her situation,
And Lady Laudine listened carefully,

And when she was done, the lady said,
"I am greatly sorry for your distress, and your sister's,
But I am afraid I cannot spare my husband.
Every day now for a fortnight
Esclabor the Red, the brother of Esclados,
Who was my husband while he yet lived,
Has come to cause storms in Landuc,
Because he claims that when Sir Yvain killed Sir Esclados,
The reign of Landuc should have gone to him,
Though I inherited it from my father Laududet.
His ravages tear apart my forest and my villages,
And his knights pillage my lands.
Sir Yvain is able to keep them from my castle,
But he has very little help from my people,
Who are a great deal better at buying and selling
Than they are at fighting.
Without Yvain, the land would be utterly lost.
Unless you can help us banish Esclabor,
We cannot offer you help."

Ondine was so depressed by this
She could scarcely speak.
"Wicked men threaten good ones everywhere,"
She said to herself. "The world has become
Very dangerous, and nobody can help me;
They are too busy defending themselves."

While she was beseeching Arthur and Yvain,
Lunete traveled day and night
From one court to another,
Asking if anyone would help defeat the giant.
But she could find no one anywhere
Who was willing to fight.
Many of the courts were filled with cowards;
Even in the courts where knights
Knew the meaning of chivalry,
Their lords feared attack from wicked men
And could not spare their fighting men
From the defense of their lands.
So Lunete traveled across many lands
Without meeting with any success.

She rode all day,
And at night she slept in the woods,
Trusting only to her own cleverness
To keep her safe.
She traveled through forests and dales,
Over rivers and plains,
Until she reached the sea.
It was night when she reached the shore.
The land there was rocky and harsh,
There were no trees to offer cover,
Or a place to spend the night,
So Lunete walked along the beach,
Hoping that she might sleep in the shelter
Of some large rock.
To her amazement, she saw a boat
Moored in the harbor,
Not some fisherman's vessel, crude and rustic,
But the richest ship Lunete had ever laid eyes on,
Far more luxurious than any boat
You or I have ever seen.

The sail was spun of finest silk,
Embroidered with beautiful patterns,
And every mast and spar and oar was fashioned
From luxurious ebony
That gleamed in the light of the moon.
Rubies and sapphires gleamed on its prow,
And all of the fixtures were gold.
Lunete was very much afraid
That it was the boat of pirates,
Or of some foreign enemy,
But there was no other place to sleep,
So she hailed the ship,
In hopes of getting lodging there.
At her signal, the boat moved closer,

But when she boarded it,
She was very much surprised
To find nobody on board.
No pilot manned the rudder,
No rowers pulled the oars.
The ship was empty,
But someone had laid out a table
Set with luxurious foods,
Dainty meats and finely-dressed fowl
And the purest and most delicious kinds of wine.
They had also set up a bed,
Strewn with clean linen cloths
And coverlets made of silk and gold cloth,
With pillows the likes of which
A king would consider himself lucky
To lay his head upon.

Lunete, who was as prudent and clever
As any woman who has ever been born,
Said to herself, "This is not the work of human hands
But of fairies and elves.
Wisdom tells me to be on my guard,
But if they have offered me hospitality,
It is for some reason.
I have not been able to find aid among the courts of men.
Perhaps the courts of Avalon will help me."

She took from her pocket a ring
That would protect anyone who wore it
From any kind of poison
And from her belt a dagger.
She put the ring on her finger
And held the dagger at the ready
While she ate of the fine food that had been laid out.
When she had eaten her fill,
She lay in the soft bed that had been prepared
And, closing her eyes, went to sleep.

While Lunete slept on the unfamiliar ship,
Ondine wandered the wilderness,
Dejected and unsure where to go for help.
She sent her handmaidens home
To report on their journeys to her sister,
And to see whether her friend Lunete
Had met with any luck.
They were reluctant to leave their lady,
But with her charming and kind words
She persuaded them, and soon she was alone.
"Oh, God," she said to herself,
"What can I do now? Where can I go?
The courts of Arthur and Yvain have failed me.
Everywhere I go, Fortune frowns upon me."

While she was speaking like this,
Roaming without a destination through
The forest of Broceliande,
She heard a sound of someone weeping
And wailing most piteously.
"Who makes this lament?" she called.
"What is the matter?"

She saw in the forest a little cottage;
Out from this cottage came an old woman,
Her hair gray, her face weathered with age,
Leaning on a stick and crying unhappily.
"Who asks?" the old woman demanded.

"My name is Ondine, vassal of Orgueilleuse,
The lady of Noire Espine," said the maiden.
"Now tell me, mistress,
What ails you? What causes you such grief?"

The old woman answered,
"I will tell you, though I cannot see
That it is any concern of yours.
When I was young and beautiful,
I married a knight of these parts,
Whose name was Sir Gales of Brittany.
We had a daughter, as beautiful as the morning,
Who married a handsome and courteous young knight
And gave birth to our grandson, Amhar.
But as day turns to night
And spring turns to winter,
Our happiness faded and was destroyed.

My husband and son-in-law,
In order to increase their names and our wealth,
Went to fight in the tournaments at King Arthur's court.
There, though both of them were as valiant
And upright as any knight ever born,
They met their ends:
My husband was struck from his horse and broke his neck,
And my son-in-law was pierced through the heart
By another's lance; his shield did him little good!
My beautiful daughter died of the grief,
And I was left alone with my little grandson.
I have kept him very well here,
In the woods where knights are rarely seen,
So that he will not die the way his fathers did.

But today, as I was gathering roots and berries
And taking rabbits from their snares for dinner,
The boy wandered away into the woods.
All day I have searched for him,
And I would search for him still,
But I am old, and my eyes do not see well in the dark.
Indeed, I will never see him again."

The maiden was very much saddened
To hear this tale, and she said to the old woman,
"Go back to your house and rest, mistress,
I will search for the boy,
And if God and good Fortune will help me,
I will bring him back to you
As quickly as I can."

The old woman went back into the cottage,
And Ondine walked through the forest,
Looking in every tree and hollow,
Not stopping for a moment to rest,
For she feared that the boy would be eaten by wolves
If she were not quick about finding him.
She searched all through the night,
And when at last the sun rose,
She found the boy curled up under a tree.
Happily, she took him back to his grandmother.
The old woman wept for joy,
And kissed and hugged her grandson and Ondine.

"My lady," said the old woman,
"I owe you more than I could ever pay.
If I were a queen I would grant you half my kingdom.
But I am a poor old woman,
And I have no land of my own.
Still, I will give you a reward for your kindness.
When my husband still lived,
He did a service for Morgan le Fay,
And as payment, she gave him a powerful potion.
It will put any man or beast to sleep;
Only give him a drop of it!
He will not wake up for two or three days,
No matter how you poke or prod him
Or how loudly you shout.
I have kept it in my husband's honor,
But now I will give it to you,
For a maiden without knight or sword to protect herself
Must use her wits as a shield."

Ondine thanked the woman courteously
And put the potion in the pocket on her belt.
She wished she had her clever friend,
The maiden Lunete, with her at that moment:
Lunete would surely know
How to turn this gift to their advantage.

But Lunete was still asleep on the boat.
When she awoke, she found herself
In a green and pleasant grove
Surrounded by beautiful and well-dressed maidens.
Every one of them was lovelier than
A flower in the springtime,
But chief among them was a maid
Before whose beauty the others seemed pale and wan
Like stars before the moon's light.
Her complexion was like two spots of blood on fresh snow;
Her hair made gold look tarnished and dim.
Her clothes were of royal purple
And very well-made;
I have certainly never worn their like.

She stood, with all her maidens gathered around,
And said, "Are you the maid Lunete,
Who serves the younger sister
Of the lady of Noire Espine,
Whose cleverness is known
From the coasts of Ireland
South to the Holy Land?"

"I am," said Lunete, "and I can prove it,"
And she showed the maiden
The ring that Ondine had given her.

"A fair ring," said the maiden.
"I do not believe you will ever see
The person who gave it to you again.
I would like to keep you here
To give me counsel and advise me
For I am the Lady of Avalon,
And I have need of good advisers,
For my lords and ladies are scheming
And often incite my people to revolt.
If you will stay among us,
You will be well rewarded;
You will be clothed like a queen
And have the finest food and best chambers.
You will have more gold than Midas,
And enjoy the most pleasant music and games."

"I thank you, lady,"
Said the maiden, "but I cannot stay,
For I have promised my lady to help defend her land,
And I would not betray her for all the gold in the world.
I would rather be her scullery maid
Than the empress of Byzantium."

At this the lady flew into a rage,
And she said, "If you will not stay willingly,
I will throw you into a dark prison
And feed you on bitter bread and water."

Lunete, that clever maiden, saw
That the lady would not willingly let her go,
And so she said, "Let us play a game of riddles.
If I lose, I will stay and serve you faithfully.
If I win, you must grant me your assistance,"
And she explained how the giant
Threatened the ladies of Noire Espine.
The Lady of Avalon agreed to these terms.

Since Lunete had challenged the lady,
It was her job to begin the game, and so she said,
"I am a small, warm house,
Big enough for one person to live comfortably.
As long as you stay, you shall want for neither food nor drink,
But once you have left, you may never return."

The Lady of Avalon thought about this,
Before the answer came to her.
"You are a mother's womb," she said,
And she was not wrong.
Then it was the lady's turn.
"I have no mouth nor any voice
Yet I speak words of wisdom.
I am smaller than a shield,
Yet I contain lands and men.
If you ask me tomorrow,
I will say the same thing that I did today."

Lunete sat down and thought for so long
The lady thought that she had won,
But finally the maiden answered,
"You are a book." And now it was time
For the contest to be won.

Lunete thought carefully and arranged her words
And said, "I am a dreadful disease
And the only cure
Is the thing that has caused the infection.
I am a fire to melt ice
And a cold wind.
I have killed many a man,
But without me,
No good man or woman has ever lived."

The lady of Avalon sat and wracked her brains,
She tore her hair, she kicked her feet,
But she could not think of the answer.
Lunete smiled, for she knew that she had won,
And she said, "I am love."
Anyone who has ever been in love would know this answer,
But for those who are jealous or coarse,
The ways of love are a mystery.

The lady of Avalon ranted and raved,
But in the end she had to give Lunete her assistance,
Because she had agreed to the terms of the game.
"Listen," she said to the maiden,
Holding in front of her a finely-woven net,
"This net has been the ruin of many a man.
It is so cleverly made as to be invisible,
And when a creature walks into it,
He will quickly become so ensnared
That he cannot move his legs or his arms or his head;
In fact, he will be lucky if he can move his eyes!
Once he is trapped, he will remain stuck there
Until you release him in the way I shall show you."
Then she showed Lunete how to release
A creature who had been caught in the net;
Only someone with very quick and clever hands
Would even be capable of it.
Lunete thanked the lady of Avalon
And took her leave.
She was as happy with her gift
As was Ondine with hers.

The lady returned to the realm of the Lady of Landuc
Where things were in a very bad way.
Sir Yvain had been gravely wounded
And lay on his bed on the brink of death,
While Laudine was defending her realm
As best she could.
When the situation had been explained to Ondine,
She said, "I will help you
To the best of my ability, if this does not displease you."
Laudine was very agreeable to this,
And so they arranged their scheme.

On the following morning, Esclabor the Red,
In his usual manner, spilled water on the rock,
Causing a horrific storm in the kingdom.
Ondine dressed her hair nicely
And put on robes of royal quality
And rode forth on her gleaming palfrey.
She was not afraid, for she bore
The ring the maiden Lunete had given her.
She knew well that it would protect her from all harm,
So her face was calm and clear as she said,
"Peace, sir knight! My lady Laudine
Has decided to give in to your demands.
She bids me make you comfortable here
While she gathers her counselors,
And then you will meet with her
To decide upon the terms of the truce."

Esclabor was greatly satisfied by this news
And looked on with good cheer
As Ondine prepared a table laden with good food and wine.
She sat down and ate with him then,
Entertaining him with witty conversation
And strange and amusing stories,
And while he laughed and ate,
The maiden subtly removed from her belt pouch
The sleeping potion given her by the old woman
And poured a drop of it into the knight's wine.
When he had finished his drink,
His eyes felt heavy and his head very tired,
And he lay down on the grass and slept deeply.

When he was asleep, Ondine summoned
The men from Laudine's castle
And they came forth to bind him with chains.
They took him and his horse
And led them into the castle, where they threw him in prison.
Laudine smiled and laughed.
"An army without its leader is like a snake without a head,"
She said, "Without Esclabor, his men will be lost."
She thanked Ondine for her help,
But though their problem had been solved,
Yvain was still not well enough to fight.
Ondine decided she had better return home
To report all this to her sister
And to see if the maiden Lunete had returned.

But Lunete had not yet returned;
The road was long, and her horse had wandered away,
Or been stolen by thieves when she was in Avalon.
As she walked along, guiding her steps toward Noire Espine,
A group of four armed men, sat astride their horses,
Saw her coming from the wooded hills above.
None recognized her, but one of them
Saw her fine robe, made of scarlet and samite
And trimmed with vair,
A parting gift from the Lady of Avalon,
And he said to his companions,
"Look, brothers, a brightly-hued bird
Has flown into our trap.
Let us see if we can catch her!"
Two of them broke off to the east
And two of them broke off to the west
So that they might surround her
And steal whatever wealth she carried
And her very person.

But Lunete, who was no fool,
Heard them ahead of her on the road,
And subtly spread the net before her
And then sat down, as if to rest a moment.
The brigands from the east
Rode into the net, and their horses' legs
Were soon ensnared; terrified,
They threw their riders, and they, too,
Were so entangled they could not move a limb
Or even twitch an eye.
The brigands from the west could not see the net
But they could see their friends fall,
And they rode out, their blood hot with anger,
To avenge their friends on Lunete
But their horses were caught in the net
And soon they were trapped,
Bound so tightly they could not twitch a finger.

Lunete smiled and said,
"It seems as if I have caught
Four foxes with my snare.
What shall I do with them?"

The brigands cried for mercy
And begged her forgiveness
For the violence they planned to do to her.
She listened carefully to their pleas
And finally told them,
"I will let you go on three conditions.
This is the first: tell me what you know
Of the giant who menaces Noire Espine."

"He is a wicked brute," said one of the brigands.
"He has ravaged the countryside and
Is now besieging the lady in her castle," said a second.
The third said, "He has grown impatient
With the lady's equivocal answers.
He says if she will not give him herself in marriage,
Then she must give him her sister;
If she will not give him her sister,
He will take both of them
And hand them over to his stable boys
To be used in the foulest ways."

At these words Lunete burned with anger
So that she could hardly speak,
But she restrained her passion and said,
"The second condition is that
You never again attack passersby on the road.
I have wandered from one end of the world to the other
And met many people, kings and peasants,
And if you take up brigands' ways again,
I will surely hear of it and see you hanged."

The bandits agreed readily to this,
And asked her what the third condition was.
"The third condition is that
You lend me a horse
And go to Noire Espine with me
And offer your assistance to Lady Ondine.
If Ondine is not there,
Offer your assistance to her sister, Lady Orgueilleuse."

When the bandits heard this condition,
They were very unhappy,
Because they feared the giant's cruelty,
But they agreed, not knowing
What other magic the clever maiden possessed.
Having obtained their word,
She loosed them from the net
Using the methods shown to her by the Lady of Avalon,
And they started off towards Noire Espine.

Ondine had already arrived.
She was saddened and downcast
When her sister told her that they had had no word
Of the maiden Lunete, her friend,
And that the giant was now threatening
To throw her and her sister to his stable boys.
It seemed that things had gone from bad to worse for them.
But, as the wise men say,
Trust in God but tie your horse.
No good has ever come to anyone
Who sat around and waited for Fortune to help him.

Ondine told her sister about the potion,
And they concocted a plan to use it wisely.
When night fell, the giant was in the habit
Of taking three whole sheep and boiling them
Without salt or pepper for his supper.
Together with six strong men,
Ondine came forth quietly from her castle
After sunset, while the giant was hunting his sheep,
And put a drop of the potion in his pot.
They waited while he took the sheep,
Wool and all, and dropped them in the pot,
And while he ate, the grease dripping from his lips.
After he finished, he felt the potion's sweetness
And fell asleep. When his eyes were closed,
Ondine and her men came out to bind the giant
Hand and foot as quickly as they could.

But they had made a dreadful mistake.
They should have used two or three drops of potion,
Since the giant was so much bigger than a man,
But just as a large man shakes off his cups
More quickly than a little fellow,
The giant woke before they had managed
To finish tying him; they had only bound his feet,
And with his arms, he grabbed a man in each fist
And dashed them against the rocks
Until their heads were cracked and they died.

The other four and the maiden
Ran as quickly as they could to escape the giant's wrath.
The plan had failed, and surely now
The giant would watch his food more carefully,
Having been fooled once.
Everyone in Noire Espine
Was overcome with grief;
You could not meet a single person
Who was not crying or moaning
And wishing he had never been born.

On the following day,
Lunete and her four bandits
Arrived at the borders of Orgueilleuse's land.
Everywhere they looked,
They saw burnt fields, ruined houses,
And dead animals; in places
Where farmers should have been
Plowing and sowing their furrows,
Ravens and wolves were eating
The burnt and mutilated cattle.
The sight filled the brigands with fear
And made Lunete burn with anger.
They rode quickly and quietly
To avoid the giant besieging Orgueilleuse's castle
And arrived at Ondine's gate.

"For God's sake," cried Lunete, "let us in,
Before that wicked giant
Discovers we are here,
And does to us what he has done to so many."

The watchman was very suspicious,
Seeing the bandits riding in Lunete's party,
And asked, "Who are you that we should let you in?"

"Have I been gone so long that you have forgotten me entirely?"
The maiden asked. "I am Lunete, and your lady
Is dearer to me than my own body."

When Ondine heard her friend's name,
She was filled with more joy
Than she had felt in many a day,
And she commanded the watchmen to open the gate.
When Lunete and her party had been admitted,
Ondine embraced her and kissed her heartily,
And Lunete returned her embraces, weeping with joy.
Anyone who witnessed their joyful meeting
Would be moved to tears, unless his heart were stone.
What a welcome the noble Ondine gave her friend!
Sending their horses to the stables,
She laid out what food she could for the maid and the bandits
Before drawing a rich bath for Lunete
To wash off the filth of her journey.

When all were fed and clean and rested,
They sat down and Ondine asked
What the results of Lunete's journey had been.
Lunete told her the story of how
She had won the magical net from the Lady of Avalon,
And how she had come to be riding with four bandits.
In return, Ondine told her
How she had obtained the potion,
What had become of the lord and lady of Landuc
And how she had failed to capture the giant.

Lunete thought carefully before saying,
"Don't worry about that, my lady,
I think I can make sure that
The giant never bothers us again."
She told all present her plan,
And Orgueilleuse and Ondine approved of it.

Ondine said, "Fortune smiled upon me
The day I met you, Lunete.
God willing, you plan will free us
From this wretched giant and rid us of his depredations."

Early in the morning, before cock had crowed
While the lark yet slept in the darkness,
Lunete carefully laid her net out
In front of Orgueilleuse's castle.
She and the bandits then hid and waited for the giant.
At daybreak, as was his custom,
The giant strode up to the castle,
With his men at arms at his back.

"By God," said the giant, "You must not love your men much,
Lady Orgueilleuse! They lie dead on the plain,
Those men whom you sent to bind me,
Eaten by wolves and vultures.
If you do not want the rest of your men to die,
Submit to me, or give me your sister,
Or I will take you both and throw you to my stable boys,
To be abused in filth as you deserve!"

Orgueilleuse, standing on her wall,
Stuck her nose haughtily in the air and said,
"I do not believe you can do it.
If you are going to make that sort of threat,
Make sure you can carry it out.
Nobody has any respect for a braggart
Who mocks other people
But cannot make good on his boasts."

Enraged, the giant rushed forward
As if to break down her gate with his fists
And his feet were caught in the net.
He dropped with a noise like a felled tree,
His body and limbs trapped in the net.
The more he struggled, the more tightly he was bound;
He could move neither his hands nor his feet,
And he cried that it was the devil himself who had captured him.
While he lay bound,
Unable to move so much as a finger,
The four bandits fell upon him
And slew him like a dog,
Cutting his head clean off.

When his men saw that the giant was dead,
They were so stricken with fear
That they did not know what to do.
They ran this way and that;
Some of them were killed by the bandits,
Some of them were picked off by archers
On the walls of the castles;
I do not know what became off all of them,
So perhaps some of them got away,
Though I cannot imagine that very much ever became of them.
No good ever comes to a man
Who abandons his lord in his hour of need.

The people of Noire Espine rejoiced, saying,
"God bless Lady Orgueilleuse!
God bless Lady Ondine!
And God bless Lunete, that clever maiden,
Who has served us all so loyally."

Orgueilleuse was very well pleased
By the giant's defeat, and she said to her sister,
"You and your maid have certainly done well.
Our father left me a great many castles
Including a very pretty one called Regnevel.
I shall give it to you and you shall be its lady."
Ondine was very happy at this gift,
And thanked her sister cordially.

The lady of Regnevel then returned to her own castle
With her dear friend Lunete.
They soon forgot all of the troubles they had suffered
And lacked for nothing,
Loving and suiting each other so well
That they never had any quarrels
And the people never complained
Of Ondine's rule or Lunete's counsel.
For it is proper for a lady to have a friend
Whom she can trust and love,
To give her wise counsel and good advice
And it is proper for a maiden
To have a kind and gentle lady
Who will repay her loyalty as it deserves.
The clever maiden served her fair lady
Faithfully and well,
And I am sure I do not have to tell you
That they were very happy.
This is where the story of Lunete and Ondine ends;
If there is any more,
Nobody ever told it to me.