led why they bled, without knowing whose fault it was. [313]
And each one to his neighbour said: "The murderer is among us here, and
yet we do not see him, which is passing strange and mysterious." At this
the lady showed such grief that she made an attempt upon her life, and
cried as if beside herself: "All God, then will the murderer not be
found, the traitor who took my good lord's life? Good? Aye, the best of
the good, indeed! True God, Thine will be the fault if Thou dost let him
thus escape. No other man than Thou should I blame for it who dost hide
him from my sight. Such a wonder was never seen, nor such injustice, as
Thou dost to me in not allowing me even to see the man who must be so
close to me. When I cannot see him, I may well say that some demon or
spirit has interposed himself between us, so that I am under a spell. Or
else he is a coward and is afraid of me: he must be a craven to stand in
awe of me, and it is an act of cowardice not to show himself before
me. Ah, thou spirit, craven thing! Why art thou so in fear of me, when
before my lord thou weft so brave? O empty and elusive thing, why cannot
I have thee in my power? Why cannot I lay hands upon thee now? But how
could it ever come about that thou didst kill my lord, unless it was
done by treachery? Surely my lord would never have met defeat at thy
hands had he seen thee face to face. For neither God nor man ever knew
of his like, nor is there any like him now. Surely, hadst thou been a
mortal man, thou wouldst never have dared to withstand my lord, for no
one could compare with him." Thus the lady struggles with herself, and
thus she contends and exhausts herself. And her people with her, for
their part, show the greatest possible grief as they carry off the
body to burial. After their long efforts and search they are completely
exhausted by the quest, and give it up from weariness, inasmuch as they
can find no one who is in any way guilty. The nuns and priests, having
already finished the service, had returned from the church and were gone
to the burial. But to all this the damsel in her chamber paid no heed.
Her thoughts are with my lord Yvain, and, coming quickly, she said to
him: "Fair sir, these people have been seeking you in force. They have
raised a great tumult here, and have poked about in all the corners more
diligently than a hunting-dog goes ferreting a partridge or a quail.
Doubtless you have been afraid." "Upon my word, you are right,"