Then Sir Iwein took into account

the kinship between the two of them.

He said: ‘Kinsman Kalogreant,

it is right that my hand should avenge

whatever disgrace has befallen you.

I too will go and see the fountain,

and what wonders there are there.’

Then Kay spoke up again

in words that well became him,

for he could never refrain,

if any deed of valour befell anyone,

from being heartily grieved by it:

‘It is clearly apparent, Christ knows,

that this speech followed a meal.

You’re not fasting, I can clearly hear.

A goblet full of wine

confers, let it be said to you,

more speech and valour

than forty-four

full of water and beer.

When the cat has eaten a lot,

it immediately starts playing.

Sir Iwein, you act in the same fashion.

If I give you good advice, then do as I say:

you are too hasty with your speech.

Sleep on it a little.

If you have bad dreams at all,

then, truly, you ought

to be restrained by them,

or go your ways

with fortune's blessing,

and do not give me any account

of whatever honour befalls you there,

nor tell me half of the disgrace either.’

‘Sir Kay,’ said the Queen,

‘a curse upon your tongue,

which suppresses all that is good

and only says the worst possible

that your heart can imagine.

Yet I believe that in this respect I

am doing your tongue an injustice.

Iuwer herze twinget sî derzuo –

dazn dunchet deheiner schalcheit ze vil.

Nû muoz sî sprechen swaz ez wil –

nû ne magich sî niht gescheiden,

wan übel geschehe in beiden!

Ich wil iu daz zwâre sagen:

dem ir den vater het erslagen,

dern flizze sich des niht mêre,

wie er iu alle iuwer êre

benæme danne sî dâ tuot.

Habt ez iu eine, werdez iu guot.’