ds." "Upon my faith, you may
rest assured that I am in the right, and I can irrefutably prove to you
that he who defeated your lord is better than he was himself. He beat
him and pursued him valiantly until he imprisoned him in his house."
"Now," she replies, "I hear the greatest nonsense that was ever uttered.
Begone, thou spirit charged with evil! Begone, thou foolish and tiresome
girl! Never again utter such idle words, and never come again into my
presence to speak a word on his behalf!" "Indeed, my lady, I knew full
well that I should receive no thanks from you, and I said so before I
spoke. But you promised me you would not be displeased, and that you
would not be angry with me for it. But you have failed to keep your
promise, and now, as it has turned out, you have discharged your wrath
on me, and I have lost by not holding my peace."

(Vv. 1727-1942.) Thereupon she goes back to the room where my lord Yvain
is waiting, comfortably guarded by her vigilance. But he is ill at ease
when he cannot see the lady, and he pays no attention, and hears no word
of the report which the damsel brings to him. The lady, too, is in great
perplexity all night, being worried about how she should defend the
spring; and she begins to repent of her action to the damsel, whom she
had blamed and insulted and treated with contempt. She feels very sure
and certain that not for any reward or bribe, nor for any affection
which she may bear him, would the maiden ever have mentioned him; and
that she must love her more than him, and that she would never give her
advice which would bring her shame or embarrassment: the maid is too
loyal a friend for that. Thus, lo! the lady is completely changed: she
fears now that she to whom she had spoken harshly will never love her
again devotedly; and him whom she had repulsed, she now loyally and with
good reason pardons, seeing that he had done her no wrong. So she argues
as if he were in her presence there, and thus she begins her argument:
"Come," she says, "canst thou deny that my lord was killed by thee?"
"That," says he, "I cannot deny. Indeed, I fully admit it." "Tell me,
then, the reason of thy deed. Didst thou do it to injure me, prompted by
hatred or by spite?" "May death not spare me now, if I did it to injure
you." "In that case, thou hast done me no wrong, nor art thou guilty
of aught toward him. For he would have killed thee, if he could. So it
seems to me that I have decided well and righte