The Story of Sir Gawaine
_Here followeth the story of Sir Gawaine and of how he discovered such
wonderful faithfulness unto King Arthur, who was his lord, that I do not
believe that the like of such faithfulness was ever seen before.
For indeed, though Sir Gawaine was at times very rough and harsh in his
manner, and though he was always so plain-spoken that his words hid the
gentle nature that lay within him, yet, under this pride of manner, was
much courtesy; and at times he was so urbane of manner and so soft of
speech that he was called by many the Knight of the Silver Tongue.
So here ye shall read how his faithfulness unto King Arthur brought him
such high reward that almost anyone in all the world might envy him his
great good fortune._
[Illustration: Sir Gawaine the Son of Lot, King of Orkney]
[Illustration] Chapter First.
_How a White Hart Appeared Before King Arthur, and How Sir Gawaine and
Gaheris, His Brother, Went in Pursuit Thereof, and of What Befell Them
in That Quest._
Upon a certain time King Arthur, together with Queen Guinevere and all
of his Court, were making progression through that part of his kingdom
which was not very near to Camelot. At this time the King journeyed in
very great state, and Queen Guinevere had her Court about her, so there
were many esquires and pages; wherefore, what with knights, lords, and
ladies in attendance, more than six score of people were with the King
and Queen.
Now it chanced that at this time the season of the year was very warm,
so that when the middle of the day had come the King commanded that a
number of pavilions should be spread for their accommodation, wherein
that they might rest there until the heat of the day had passed. So the
attendants spread three pavilions in a pleasant glade upon the outskirts
of the forest.
When this had been done, the King gave command that the tables, whereat
they were to eat their mid-day meal, should be spread beneath the shadow
of that glade of trees; for there was a gentle wind blowing and there
were many birds singing, so that it was very pleasant to sit in the open
air.
Accordingly the attendants of the Court did as the King commanded, and
the tables were set upon the grass beneath the shade, and the King and
Queen and all the lords and ladies of their Courts sat down to that
cheerful repast.
[Sidenote: _A white hart and a white hound appear before King Arthur at
feast._]
Now whiles they sat there feasting with great content of spirit, and
with much mirth and goodly talk among themselves, there came of a sudden
a great outcry from the woodland that was near by, and therewith there
burst forth from the cover of that leafy wilderness a very beautiful
white hart pursued by a white brachet of equal beauty. And there was not
a hair upon either of these animals that was not as white as milk, and
each wore about its neck a collar of gold very beautiful to behold.
The hound pursued the white hart with a very great outcry and bellowing,
and the hart fled in the utmost terror. In this wise they ran thrice
around the table where King Arthur and his Court sat at meat, and twice
in that chase the hound caught the hart and pinched it on its haunch,
and therewith the hart leaped away, and all they who sat there observed
that there was blood at two places upon its haunch where the hound had
pinched it. But each time the hart escaped from the hound, and the hound
followed after it with much outcry of yelling so that King Arthur and
Queen Guinevere and all their Court were annoyed at the noise and tumult
that those two creatures made. Then the hart fled away into the forest
again by another path, and the hound pursued it and both were gone, and
the baying of the hound sounded more and more distant as it ran away
into the woodland.
Now, ere the King and Queen and their Court had recovered from their
astonishment at these things, there suddenly appeared at that part of
the forest whence the hart and the hound had emerged, a knight and a
lady, and the knight was of very lordly presence and the lady was
exceedingly beautiful. The knight was clad in half-armor, and the lady
was clad in green as though for the chase; and the knight rode upon a
charger of dapple gray, and the lady upon a piebald palfrey. With them
were two esquires, also clad for the chase.
These, seeing the considerable company gathered there, paused as though
in surprise, and whilst they stood so, there suddenly appeared another
knight upon a black horse, clad in complete armor, and he seemed to be
very angry. For he ran upon the half-armed knight and smote him so sorry
a blow with his sword, that the first knight fell down from his horse
and lay upon the ground as though dead; whereat the lady who was with
him shrieked with great dolor.
[Sidenote: _King Arthur and his Court behold a knight carry off a lady
prisoner._]
Then the full-armed knight upon the black horse ran to the lady and
catched her, and he lifted her from her palfrey and laid her across the
horn of his saddle, and thereupon he rode back into the forest again.
The lady screamed with such vehemence of violent outcry, that it was a
great pity to hear her, but the knight paid no attention to her
shrieking, but bore her away by main force into the forest.
Then, after he and the lady had gone, the two esquires came and lifted
up the wounded knight upon his horse, and then they also went away into
the forest and were gone.
All this King Arthur and his Court beheld from a distance, and they were
so far away that they could not stay that knight upon the black horse
from doing what he did to carry away the lady into the forest; nor could
they bring succor to that other knight in half-armor whom they had
beheld struck down in that wise. So they were very greatly grieved at
what they had beheld and knew not what to think of it. Then King Arthur
said to his Court, “Messires, is there not some one of you who will
follow up this adventure and discover what is the significance of that
which we have seen, and compel that knight to tell why he behaved as he
did?”
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine and Gaheris undertake the adventure of these
things._]
Upon this Sir Gawaine said, “Lord, I shall be very glad indeed to take
upon me this adventure if I have thy leave to do so.” And King Arthur
said, “Thou hast my leave.” Then Sir Gawaine said, “Lord, I would that
thou would also let me take my younger brother, Gaheris, with me as mine
esquire in this undertaking, for he groweth apace unto manhood, and yet
he hath never beheld any considerable adventure at arms.” So King Arthur
said, “Thou hast my leave to take thy brother with thee.”
At this Gaheris was very glad, for he was of an adventurous spirit,
wherefore the thought of going with his brother upon this quest gave him
great pleasure.
So they two went to the pavilion of Sir Gawaine, and there Gaheris aided
Sir Gawaine as his esquire to don his armor. Then they rode forth upon
that quest which Sir Gawaine had undertaken.
Now they journeyed onward for a very considerable distance, following
that direction which they had seen the hart take when it had sped away
from before the hound, and when, from time to time, they would meet
some of the forest folk, they would inquire of them whither had fled
that white brachet and the white hart, and whither had fled the knight
and the lady, and so they followed that adventure apace.
[Sidenote: _They behold two knights fighting._]
By and by, after a long pass--it being far advanced in the
afternoon--they were suddenly aware of a great uproar of conflict, as of
a fierce battle in progress. So they followed this sound, and after a
while they came to an open meadow-land with very fair and level sward.
Here they beheld two knights fighting with great vehemence of passion,
and with a very deadly purpose. Then Sir Gawaine said, “What is this?
Let us go see.” So he and Gaheris rode forward to where those two
knights were engaged, and as they approached, the two knights paused in
their encounter, and rested upon their weapons. Then Sir Gawaine said,
“Ha! Messires, what is to do and why do ye fight with such passion, the
one against the other, in that wise?” Then one of the knights said to
Sir Gawaine, “Sir, this does not concern you;” and the other said,
“Meddle not with us, for this battle is of our own choosing.”
“Messires,” said Sir Gawaine, “I would be very sorry to interfere in
your quarrel, but I am in pursuit of a white hart and a white brachet
that came this way, and also of a knight who hath carried off a lady
upon the same pass. Now I would be greatly beholden to ye if you would
tell me if ye have seen aught of one or the other.”
[Sidenote: _One of the knights tells their story._]
Then that knight who had first spoken said, “Sir, this is a very strange
matter, for it was upon account of that very white hart and that
brachet, and of the knight and the lady that we two were just now
engaged in that battle as thou didst behold. For the case is this: We
two are two brothers, and we were riding together in great amity when
that hart and that hound came hitherward. Then my brother said he very
greatly hoped that the white hart would escape from the hound, and I
said that I hoped that the hound would overtake the hart and bring it to
earth. Then came that knight with that lady, his captive, and I said
that I would follow that knight and rescue the lady, and my brother said
that he would undertake that adventure.
“Upon these points we fell into dispute; for it appeared to me that I
felt great affection for that hound, and my brother felt as
extraordinary regard for the white hart, and that as I had first spoken
I should have the right to follow that adventure; but my brother felt
affection for the hart, and he considered that as he was the elder of us
twain, he had the best right to the adventure. So we quarrelled, and by
and by we fell to upon that fight in which thou did see us engaged.”
At this Sir Gawaine was very greatly astonished, and he said, “Messires,
I cannot understand how so great a quarrel should have arisen from so
small a dispute; and, certes, it is a great pity for two brothers to
quarrel as ye have done, and to give one another such sore cuts and
wounds as I perceive you have both received.”
“Messires,” said the second knight, “I think thou art right, and I now
find myself to be very much ashamed of that quarrel.” And the other
said, “I too am sorry for what I have done.”
Then Sir Gawaine said, “Sirs, I would be very glad indeed if you would
tell me your names.” And the one knight said, “I am called Sir Sorloise
of the Forest.” And the other said, “I am called Sir Brian of the
Forest.”
Then Sir Sorloise said, “Sir Knight, I would deem it a very great
courtesy if thou wouldst tell me who thou art.”
“I would be very glad to do that,” said Sir Gawaine, and therewith he
told them his name and condition. Now, when they heard who Sir Gawaine
was, those two knights were very greatly astonished and pleased; for no
one in all the courts of chivalry was more famous than Sir Gawaine, the
son of King Lot of Orkney. Wherefore those two brothers said, “It is
certainly a great joy to us to meet so famous a knight as thou art, Sir
Gawaine.”
Then Sir Gawaine said, “Sir Knights, that hart and that hound came only
a short while ago to where King Arthur and Queen Guinevere and their
Courts of lords and ladies were at feast, and there, likewise, all we
beheld that knight seize upon the lady and make her captive. Wherefore,
I and my brother have come forth upon command of King Arthur for to
discover what is the meaning of that which we beheld. Now I shall deem
it a very great courtesy upon your part if you will cease from this
adventure and will go in amity unto the Court of the King, and will tell
him of what ye beheld and of how you quarrelled and of how we met. For
otherwise I myself will have to engage ye both, and that would be a
great pity; for ye are weary with battle and I am fresh.”
Then these two knights said, “Sir, we will do as you desire, for we have
no wish to have to do with so powerful a knight as you.”
Thereupon those two knights departed and went to the Court of King
Arthur as Sir Gawaine ordained, and Sir Gawaine and his brother rode
forward upon their adventure.
[Sidenote:_Sir Gawaine and Gaheris meet a knight beside the river._]
Now, by and by they came nigh to a great river, and there they beheld
before them a single knight in full armor, who carried a spear in his
hand and a shield hanging to his saddle-bow. Thereupon Sir Gawaine
made haste forward and he called aloud to the knight, and the knight
paused and waited until Sir Gawaine had overtaken him. And when Sir
Gawaine came up to that knight he said, “Sir Knight, hast thou seen a
white hart and a white hound pass by this way? And hast thou seen a
knight bearing off a captive lady?”
Unto this the knight said, “Yea, I beheld them both, and I am even now
following after them with intent to discover whither they are bound.”
Then Sir Gawaine said, “Sir Knight, I bid thee not to follow this
adventure farther, for I myself am set upon it. Wherefore I desire thee
for to give it over so that I may undertake it in thy stead.” “Sir,”
said the other knight, speaking with a very great deal of heat, “I know
not who thou art, nor do I care a very great deal. But touching the
pursuance of this adventure, I do tell thee that I myself intend to
follow it to the end and so will I do, let who will undertake to stay
me.”
Thereupon Sir Gawaine said, “Messire, thou shalt not go forward upon
this adventure unless thou hast first to do with me.” And the knight
said, “Sir, I am very willing for that.”
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine overthroweth the knight._]
So each knight took such stand upon that field as appeared to him to be
best, and each put himself into a posture of defence and dressed his
shield and his spear. Then, when they were thus prepared in all ways,
they immediately launched forth, the one against the other, rushing
together with great speed and with such an uproar that the ground
trembled and shook beneath them. So they met together in the midst of
the course and the spear of the strange knight burst all into small
pieces, but the spear of Sir Gawaine held; wherefore he hurled that
knight out of his saddle with such violence that he smote the ground
with a blow like an earthquake.
Then Sir Gawaine rode back to where his enemy was (for that knight was
unable to arise), and he removed the helmet from the head of the fallen
knight and beheld that he was very young and comely.
Now, when the fresh air smote upon the knight’s face, he presently awoke
from his swoon and came back unto his senses again, whereupon Sir
Gawaine said, “Dost thou yield unto me?” And the knight said, “I do so.”
Then Sir Gawaine said, “Who art thou?” And the knight said, “I am called
Sir Alardin of the Isles.” “Very well,” said Sir Gawaine; “then I lay my
command upon thee in this wise: that thou shalt go to the Court of King
Arthur and deliver thyself to him as a captive of my prowess. And thou
art to tell him all that thou knowest of the hart and the hound and the
knight and the lady. And thou shalt tell him all that hath befallen thee
in this assault.”
So the knight said that he would do that, and thereupon they parted, the
one party going the one way and the other party going the other way.
After that Sir Gawaine and his brother, Gaheris, rode a considerable
distance until they came, by and by, through a woodland into an open
plain, and it was now about the time of sunset. And they beheld in the
midst of the plain a very stately and noble castle with five towers and
of very great strength.
[Sidenote:_Sir Gawaine and Gaheris behold the dead brachet._]
And right here they saw a sight that filled them with great sorrow, for
they beheld the dead body of that white brachet lying beside the road
like any carrion. And they saw that the hound was pierced through with
three arrows, wherefore they wist that it had been slain very violently.
Now when Sir Gawaine beheld that beautiful hound lying dead in that
wise, he was filled with great sorrow. “What a pity it is,” he cried,
“that this noble hound should be slain in this wise; for I think that it
was the most beautiful hound that ever I saw in all my life. Here hath
assuredly been great treachery against it; for it hath been foully dealt
with because of that white hart which it pursued. Now, I make my vow
that if I can find that hart I will slay it with mine own hands, because
it was in that chase that this hound met its death.”
After that they rode forward toward that castle, and as they drew nigh,
lo! they beheld that white hart with the golden collar browsing upon the
meadows before the castle.
Now, as soon as the white hart beheld those two strangers, it fled with
great speed toward the castle, and it ran into the court-yard of the
castle. And when Sir Gawaine beheld the stag, he gave chase in pursuit
of it with great speed, and Gaheris followed after his brother.
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine slayeth the white hart._]
So Sir Gawaine pursued the white hart into the court-yard of the castle
and from thence it could not escape. Then Sir Gawaine leaped him down
from his horse and drew his sword and slew the hart with a single blow
of his weapon.
This he did in great haste, but when he had done that and it was too
late to mend it, he repented him of what he had done very sorely.
Now with all this tumult, there came out the lord and the lady of that
castle; and the lord was one of very haughty and noble aspect, and the
lady was extraordinarily graceful and very beautiful of appearance. And
Sir Gawaine looked upon the lady and he thought he had hardly ever seen
so beautiful a dame, wherefore he was more sorry than ever that, in his
haste, he had slain that white hart.
But when the lady of the castle beheld the white hart, that it lay dead
upon the stone pavement of the court-yard, she smote her hands together
and shrieked with such shrillness and strength, that it pierced the ears
to hear her. And she cried out, “Oh, my white hart, art thou then dead?”
And therewith she fell to weeping with great passion. Then Sir Gawaine
said, “Lady, I am very sorry for what I have done, and I would that I
could undo it.” Then the lord of that castle said to Sir Gawaine, “Sir,
didst thou slay that stag?” “Yea,” said Sir Gawaine. “Sir,” said the
lord of the castle, “thou hast done very ill in this matter, and if thou
wilt wait a little I will take full vengeance upon thee.” Unto which Sir
Gawaine said, “I will wait for thee as long as it shall please thee.”
[Sidenote: _The knight of the castle assaileth Sir Gawaine._]
Then the lord of the castle went into his chamber and clad himself in
his armor, and in a little while he came out very fiercely. “Sir,” said
Sir Gawaine, “what is thy quarrel with me?” And the lord of the castle
said, “Because thou hast slain the white hart that was so dear to my
lady.” To the which Sir Gawaine said, “I would not have slain the white
hart only that because of it the white brachet was so treacherously
slain.” Upon this the lord of the castle was more wroth than ever, and
he ran at Sir Gawaine and smote him unawares, so that he clave through
the epaulier of his armor and cut through the flesh and unto the bone of
the shoulder, so that Sir Gawaine was put to a great agony of pain at
the stroke. Then Sir Gawaine was filled with rage at the pain of the
wound, wherefore he smote the knight so woful a blow that he cut through
his helmet and into the bone beneath, and thereupon the knight fell down
upon his knees because of the fierceness of the blow, and he could not
rise up again. Then Sir Gawaine catched his helmet and rushed it off
from his head.
Upon this the knight said in a weak voice, “Sir Knight, I crave mercy of
you, and yield myself to you.”
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine maketh to slay the knight of the castle._]
But Sir Gawaine was very furious with anger because of that unexpected
blow which he had received and because of the great agony of the wound,
wherefore he would not have mercy, but lifted up his sword with intent
to slay that knight.
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine striketh the lady of the castle without
intent._]
Then the lady of the castle beheld what Sir Gawaine was intent to do,
and she brake away from her damsels and ran and flung herself upon the
knight so as to shield him with her own body. And in that moment Sir
Gawaine was striking and could not stay his blow; nevertheless, he was
able to turn his sword in his hand so that the edge thereof did not
smite the lady. But the flat of the sword struck her upon the neck a
very grievous blow, and the blade cut her a little, so that the blood
ran down her smooth white neck and over her kerchief; and with the
violence of the blow the lady fell down and lay upon the ground as
though she were dead.
Now when Sir Gawaine beheld that, he thought that he had slain that lady
in his haste, and he was all a-dread at what he had done, wherefore he
cried, “Woe is me! what have I done?”
“Alas!” said Gaheris, “that was a very shameful blow that thou didst
strike; and the shame of it is mine also because thou art my brother.
Now I wish I had not come with thee to this place.”
Then Sir Gawaine said to the lord of that castle, “Sir, I will spare thy
life, for I am very sorry for what I have done in my haste.”
But the knight of the castle was filled with great bitterness, because
he thought that his lady was dead, wherefore he cried out as in despair,
“I will not now have thy mercy, for thou art a knight without mercy and
without pity. And since thou hast slain my lady, who is dearer to me
than my life, thou mayst slay me also. For that is the only service
which thou canst now render me.”
But by now the damsels of the lady had come to her where she lay, and
the chiefest of these cried out to the lord of the castle, “Ha, sir, thy
lady is not dead, but only in a swoon from which she will presently
recover.”
Then when the lord of the castle heard that, he fell to weeping in great
measure from pure joy; for now that he knew his lady was alive he could
not contain himself for joy. Therewith Sir Gawaine came to him and
lifted him up from the ground where he was, and kissed him upon the
cheek. Then certain others came and bare the lady away into her chamber,
and there in a little while she recovered from that swoon and was but
little the worse for the blow she had received.
That night Sir Gawaine, and his brother, Gaheris, abided with the knight
and the lady, and when the knight learned who Sir Gawaine was, he felt
it great honor to have so famous a knight in that place. So they feasted
together that evening in great amity.
Now, after they had refreshed themselves, Sir Gawaine said, “I beseech
you, sir, to tell me what was the meaning of the white hart and the
white brachet which led me into this adventure.”
To this the lord of the castle (whose name was Sir Ablamor of the
Marise) said, “I will do so.” And therewith he spake as follows:
“You must know, sir, that I have a brother who hath always been very
dear to me, and when I took this, my lady, unto wife, he took her sister
as his wife.
[Sidenote:_The lord of the castle telleth the story of the white hart
and the white hound._]
“Now, my brother dwelt in a castle nigh to this, and we held commerce
together in great amity. But it befell upon a day that my lady and my
brother’s lady were riding through this forest together discoursing very
pleasantly. What time there appeared a lady unto them, exceedingly
beautiful, and of very strange appearance, for I do not think that
either my lady or her sister ever beheld her like before.
“This strange lady brought unto those two ladies a white hart and a
white brachet, and the hart and the hound she held each by a silver
chain attached to a golden collar that encircled its neck. And the white
hart she gave unto my lady and the white brachet she gave unto my lady’s
sister. And then she went away leaving them very glad.
“But their gladness did not last for very long, for ever since that time
there hath been nothing else but discord between my brother and myself,
and between my lady and her sister, for the white hound hath ever sought
the white hart for to destroy it, wherefore I and my lady have
entertained very great offence against my brother and his lady because
they did not keep the white brachet at home. So it has come to pass that
a number of times we have sought to destroy the hound, so that my
brother and his lady have held equal offence against us.
“Now this day it chanced I was toward the outskirts of the forest to the
east of us, when I heard a great outcry in the woodland, and by and by
the white hart that belonged to my lady came fleeing through the
woodland, and the white brachet that belonged to my brother’s lady was
in pursuit of it; and my brother and his lady and two esquires followed
rapidly after the hart and the brachet.
“Then I was very greatly angered, for it seemed to me that they were
chasing that white hart out of despite of my lady and myself, wherefore
I followed after them with all speed.
“So I came upon them at the outskirts of the woodland, nigh to where
there were a number of pavilions pitched in the shade of a glade of
trees in the midst of the meadow, and there, in mine anger, I struck my
brother a great blow so that I smote him down from his horse. And I
catched his lady and I threw her across the horn of my saddle and I bore
her here away to this castle, and here I have held her out of revenge
because they pursued the white hart which belonged to my lady. For my
lady loved that hart as she loved nothing else in the world, excepting
myself.”
“Sir,” said Sir Gawaine, “this is a very strange matter. Now I beseech
thee to tell me of what appearance was that lady who gave the white hart
and the white hound unto those two ladies?” “Messire,” said the knight,
“she was clad all in crimson, and about her throat and arms were a great
many ornaments of gold beset with stones of divers colors, and her hair
was red like gold and was enmeshed in a net of gold, and her eyes were
very black and shone with exceeding brightness, and her lips were like
coral, so that she possessed a very strange appearance.”
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine heareth of Vivien._]
“Ha!” said Sir Gawaine, “from this description methinks that lady could
have been none other than the sorceress Vivien. For now she spendeth all
of her time in doing such mischief as this by means of her enchantment,
out of pure despite. And, indeed, I think it would be a very good thing
if she were put out of this world so that she could do no more such
mischief. But tell me, Messire, where now is that lady, thy wife’s
sister?” “Sir,” said the knight, “she is in this castle and is a
prisoner of honor.” “Well,” quoth Sir Gawaine, “since now both the hart
and the hound are dead, ye can assuredly bear no more enmity toward her
and your brother, wherefore I do beseech you that you will let her go
free, and will enter again into a condition of amity and good-will the
one with the other, in such a manner as hath afore obtained between
you.” And the lord of the castle said, “Sir, it shall be so.”
And so he set the lady free at that time, and thereafter there was amity
between them as Sir Gawaine had ordained.
And the next day Sir Gawaine and his brother, Gaheris, returned unto
this Court of the King and he told King Arthur and his Court all that
had befallen, hiding nothing from them.
[Sidenote: _Queen Guinevere is displeased with Sir Gawaine._]
Now, Queen Guinevere was very much displeased when she heard how Sir
Gawaine would show no mercy to that knight and how he had struck the
lady with his sword. Wherefore she said aside to one of those who stood
nigh to her, “It seems to me to be a very strange thing for a belted
knight to do, to refuse to give mercy unto a fallen enemy and to strike
a lady with his sword; for I should think that any sword that had drawn
blood from a lady in such wise would be dishonored for aye; and I cannot
think that anyone who would strike a lady in that wise would hold
himself guiltless unto his vow of knighthood.”
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine breaketh his sword._]
This Sir Gawaine overheard and he was exceedingly wroth thereat. But he
concealed his anger at that time. Only after he had gone away he said to
Gaheris, his brother, “I believe that lady hateth me with all her heart;
but some time I will show to her that I have in me more courtesy and am
more gentle than she believes me to be. As for my sword, since she
deemeth it to be dishonored by that blow, I will not use it any more.”
So he took the sword out of its sheath and brake it across his knee and
flung it away.
Now all this hath been told to set forth that which follows; for there
ye shall learn what great things of nobility Sir Gawaine could do when
it behooved him to do them. For, haply, ye who have read this story may
feel as Queen Guinevere did, that Sir Gawaine was not rightwise
courteous as a belted knight should have been in that adventure
aforetold.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: King Arthur findeth yᵉ old woman in yᵉ hut:]
[Illustration] Chapter Second.
_How King Arthur Became Lost in the Forest, and How He Fell Into a Very
Singular Adventure in a Castle Unto Which He Came._
Now, it befell upon a time some while after this, that King Arthur was
at Tintagalon upon certain affairs of state. And Queen Guinevere and her
Court and the King’s Court made progression from Camelot unto Carleon,
and there they abided until the King should be through his business at
Tintagalon and should join them at Carleon.
Now that time was the spring of the year, and all things were very jolly
and gay, wherefore King Arthur became possessed with a great desire for
adventure. So he called unto him a certain favorite esquire, hight
Boisenard, and he said to him, “Boisenard, this day is so pleasant that
I hardly know how I may contain myself because of the joy I take in it,
for it seems to be that my heart is nigh ready to burst with a great
pleasure of desiring. So I am of a mind to go a-gadding with only thee
for companion.”
To this Boisenard said, “Lord, I know of nothing that would give to me a
greater pleasure than that.”
So King Arthur said, “Very well, let us then go away from this place in
such a manner that no one will be aware of our departure. And so we will
go to Carleon and surprise the Queen by coming unexpectedly to that
place.”
So Boisenard brought armor, without device, and he clad the King in that
armor; and then they two rode forth together, and no one wist that they
had left the castle.
[Sidenote: _King Arthur sets forth with his esquire._]
And when they came forth into the fields, King Arthur whistled and sang
and jested and laughed and made himself merry; for he was as a war-horse
turned forth upon the grass that taketh glory in the sunshine and the
warm air and becometh like unto a colt again.
So by and by they came into the forest and rode that way with great
content of spirit; and they took this path and they took that path for
no reason but because the day was so gay and jolly. So, by and by, they
lost their way in the mazes of the woodland and knew not where they
were.
[Sidenote: _They are lost in the forest._]
Now when they found themselves to be lost in that wise they journeyed
with more circumspection, going first by this way and then by that, but
in no manner could they find their way out from their entanglement. And
so fell night-time and they knew not where they were; but all became
very dark and obscure, with the woodland full of strange and unusual
sounds around about them.
Then King Arthur said, “Boisenard, this is a very perplexing pass and I
do not know how we shall find lodging for this night.”
To this Boisenard said, “Lord, if I have thy permission to do so, I will
climb one of these trees and see if I can discover any sign of
habitation in this wilderness.” And King Arthur said, “Do so, I pray
thee.”
[Sidenote: _Boisenard beholdeth a light._]
So Boisenard climbed a very tall tree and from the top of the tree he
beheld a light a great distance away, and he said, “Lord, I see a light
in that direction.” And therewith he came down from the tree again.
So King Arthur and Boisenard went in the direction that Boisenard had
beheld the light, and by and by they came out of the forest and into an
open place where they beheld a very great castle with several tall
towers, very grim and forbidding of appearance. And it was from this
castle that the light had appeared that Boisenard had seen. So they two
rode up to the castle and Boisenard called aloud and smote upon the gate
of the castle. Then immediately there came a porter and demanded of them
what they would have. Unto him Boisenard said, “Sirrah, we would come in
to lodge for to-night, for we are a-weary.” So the porter said, “Who are
you?”--speaking very roughly and rudely to them, for he could not see of
what condition they were because of the darkness. Then Boisenard said,
“This is a knight of very good quality and I am his esquire, and we have
lost our way in the forest and now we come hither seeking shelter.”
“Sir,” said the porter, “if ye know what is good for you, ye will sleep
in the forest rather than come into this place, for this is no very good
retreat for errant knights to shelter themselves.”
Upon this King Arthur bespake the porter, for that which the porter said
aroused great curiosity within him. So he said, “Nay, we will not go
away from here and we demand to lodge here for this night.”
Then the porter said, “Very well; ye may come in.” And thereupon he
opened the gate and they rode into the court-yard of that castle.
[Sidenote: _King Arthur and his esquire enter the castle._]
Now at the noise of their coming, there appeared a great many lights
within the castle, and there came running forth divers attendants. Some
of these aided King Arthur and Boisenard to dismount, and others took
the horses, and others again brought basins of water for them to wash
withal. And after they had washed their faces and hands, other
attendants brought them into the castle.
Now as they came into the castle, they were aware of a great noise of
very many people talking and laughing together, with the sound of
singing and of harping. And so they came into the hall of the castle and
beheld that it was lighted with a great number of candles and tapers and
torches. Here they found a multitude of people gathered at a table
spread for a feast, and at the head of the table there sat a knight,
well advanced in years and with hair and beard white as milk. Yet he was
exceedingly strong and sturdy of frame, having shoulders of wonderful
broadness and a great girth of chest. This knight was of a very stern
and forbidding appearance, and was clad altogether in black, and he wore
around his neck a chain of gold, with a locket of gold hanging pendant
from it.
Now when this knight beheld King Arthur and Boisenard come into the
hall, he called aloud to them in a very great voice bidding them to come
and sit with him at the head of the table; and they did so, and those at
the head of the table made place for them, and thus they sat there
beside the knight.
Now King Arthur and Boisenard were exceedingly hungry, wherefore they
ate with great appetite and made joy of the entertainment which they
received, and meantime the knight held them in very pleasant discourse,
talking to them of such things as would give them the most
entertainment. So after a while the feast was ended and they ceased from
eating.
[Sidenote: _The knight of the castle challenges King Arthur to an
adventure._]
Then, of a sudden, the knight said to King Arthur, “Messire, thou art
young and lusty of spirit and I doubt not but thou hath a great heart
within thee. What say you now to a little sport betwixt us two?” Upon
this King Arthur regarded that knight very steadily and he believed that
his face was not so old as it looked; for his eyes were exceedingly
bright and shone like sparks of light; wherefore he was a-doubt and he
said, “Sir, what sport would you have?” Upon this the knight fell
a-laughing in great measure and he said, “This is a very strange sport
that I have in mind, for it is this: That thou and I shall prove the one
unto the other what courage each of us may have.” And King Arthur said,
“How shall we prove that?” Whereunto the knight made reply, “This is
what we shall do: Thou and I shall stand forth in the middle of this
hall, and thou shalt have leave to try to strike off my head; and if I
can receive that blow without dying therefrom, then I shall have leave
to strike thy head off in a like manner.”
Upon this speech King Arthur was greatly a-dread and he said, “That is
very strange sport for two men to engage upon.”
Now when King Arthur said this, all those who were in the hall burst out
laughing beyond all measure and as though they would never stint from
their mirth. Then, when they had become in a measure quiet again, the
knight of that castle said, “Sir, art thou afraid of that sport?” Upon
which King Arthur fell very angry and he said, “Nay, I am not afeared,
for no man hath ever yet had reason to say that I showed myself afeared
of anyone.” “Very well,” said the knight of the castle; “then let us try
that sport of which I spake.” And King Arthur said, “I am willing.”
Then Boisenard came to King Arthur where he was, and he said, “Lord, do
not thou enter into this thing, but rather let me undertake this venture
in thy stead, for I am assured that some great treachery is meditated
against thee.” But King Arthur said, “Nay; no man shall take my danger
upon himself, but I will assume mine own danger without calling upon any
man to take it.” So he said to the knight of the castle, “Sir, I am
ready for that sport of which thou didst speak, but who is to strike
that first blow and how shall we draw lots therefor?” “Messire,” said
the knight of the castle, “there shall be no lots drawn. For, as thou
art the guest of this place, so shall thou have first assay at that
sport.”
Therewith that knight arose and laid aside his black robe, and he was
clad beneath in a shirt of fine linen very cunningly worked. And he wore
hosen of crimson. Then he opened that linen undergarment at the throat
and he turned down the collar thereof so as to lay his neck bare to the
blow. Thereupon he said, “Now, Sir Knight, thou shalt have to strike
well if thou wouldst win at this sport.”
[Sidenote: _King Arthur cuts off the head of the knight of the castle._]
But King Arthur showed no dread of that undertaking, for he arose and
drew Excalibur so that the blade of the sword flashed with exceeding
brightness. Then he measured his distance, and lifted the sword, and he
smote the knight of the castle with all his might upon the neck. And,
lo! the blade cut through the neck of the knight of the castle with
wonderful ease, so that the head flew from the body to a great distance
away.
But the trunk of the body of that knight did not fall, but instead of
that it stood, and it walked to where the head lay, and the hands of the
trunk picked up the head and they set the head back upon the body and,
lo! that knight was as sound and whole as ever he had been in all his
life.
Upon this all those of the castle shouted and made great mirth, and they
called upon King Arthur that it was now his turn to try that sport. So
the King prepared himself, laying aside his surcoat and opening his
undergarment at the throat, as the knight of the castle had done. And at
that Boisenard made great lamentation. Then the knight of the castle
said, “Sir, art thou afeared?” And King Arthur said, “No, I am not
afeared, for every man must come to his death some time, and it appears
that my time hath now come, and that I am to lay down my life in this
foolish fashion for no fault of mine own.”
Then the knight of the castle said, “Well, stand thou away a little
distance so that I may not strike thee too close, and so lose the virtue
of my blow.”
[Sidenote: _The knight torments King Arthur._]
So King Arthur stood forth in the midst of the hall, and the knight of
the castle swung his sword several times, but did not strike. Likewise,
he several times laid the blade of the sword upon King Arthur’s neck,
and it was very cold. Then King Arthur cried out in great passion, “Sir,
it is thy right to strike, but I beseech thee not to torment me in this
manner.” “Nay,” said the knight of the castle, “it is my right to strike
when it pleases me, and I will not strike any before that time. For if
it please me I will torment thee for a great while ere I slay thee.” So
he laid his sword several times more upon King Arthur’s neck, and King
Arthur said no more, but bore that torment with a very steadfast spirit.
Then the knight of the castle said, “Thou appearest to be a very
courageous and honorable knight, and I have a mind to make a covenant
with thee.” And King Arthur said, “What is that covenant?” “It is this,”
said the knight of the castle, “I will spare thee thy life for a year
and a day if thou wilt pledge me thy knightly word to return hither at
the end of that time.”
Then King Arthur said, “Very well; it shall be so.” And therewith he
pledged his knightly word to return at the end of that time, swearing to
that pledge upon the cross of the hilt of Excalibur.
[Sidenote: _The knight of the castle sets King Arthur a riddle._]
Then the knight of the castle said, “I will make another covenant with
thee.” “What is it?” said King Arthur. “My second covenant is this,”
quoth the knight of the castle, “I will give to thee a riddle, and if
thou wilt answer that riddle when thou returnest hither, and if thou
makest no mistake in that answer, then will I spare thy life and set
thee free.” And King Arthur said, “What is that riddle?” To which the
knight made reply, “The riddle is this: What is it that a woman desires
most of all in the world?”
“Sir,” said King Arthur, “I will seek to find the answer to that riddle,
and I give thee gramercy for sparing my life for so long a time as thou
hast done, and for giving me the chance to escape my death.” Upon this
the knight of the castle smiled very sourly, and he said, “I do not
offer this to thee because of mercy to thee, but because I find pleasure
in tormenting thee. For what delight canst thou have in living thy life
when thou knowest that thou must, for a surety, die at the end of one
short year? And what pleasure canst thou have in living even that year
when thou shalt be tormented with anxiety to discover the answer to my
riddle?”
Then King Arthur said, “I think thou art very cruel.” And the knight
said, “I am not denying that.”
So that night King Arthur and Boisenard lay at the castle, and the next
day they took their way thence. And King Arthur was very heavy and
troubled in spirit; ne’theless he charged Boisenard that he should say
nothing concerning that which had befallen, but that he should keep it
in secret. And Boisenard did as the King commanded, and said nothing
concerning that adventure.
Now in that year which followed, King Arthur settled his affairs. Also
he sought everywhere to find the answer to that riddle. Many there were
who gave him answers in plenty, for one said that a woman most desired
wealth, and another said she most desired beauty, and one said she
desired power to please, and another said that she most desired fine
raiment; and one said this, and another said that; but no answer
appeared to King Arthur to be good and fitting for his purpose.
So the year passed by, until only a fortnight remained; and then King
Arthur could not abide to stay where he was any longer, for it seemed to
him his time was very near to hand, and he was filled with a very bitter
anxiety of soul, wherefore he was very restless to be away.
So he called Boisenard to him, and he said, “Boisenard, help me to arm,
for I am going away.”
Then Boisenard fell a-weeping in very great measure, and he said, “Lord,
do not go.”
At this King Arthur looked very sternly at his esquire, and said,
“Boisenard, how is this? Wouldst thou tempt me to violate mine honor? It
is not very hard to die, but it would be very bitter to live my life in
dishonor; wherefore tempt me no more, but do my bidding and hold thy
peace. And if I do not return in a month from this time, then mayst thou
tell all that hath befallen. And thou mayst tell Sir Constantine of
Cornwall that he is to search the papers in my cabinet, and that there
he will find all that is to be done should death overtake me.”
[Sidenote: _King Arthur set forth to return to the castle of the evil
knight._]
So Boisenard put a plain suit of armor upon King Arthur, though he could
hardly see what he was about for the tears that flowed down out of his
eyes in great abundance. And he laced upon the armor of the King a
surcoat without device, and he gave the King a shield without device.
Thereupon King Arthur rode away without considering whither his way took
him. And of everyone whom he met he inquired what that thing was that a
woman most desired, and no one could give him an answer that appeared to
him to be what it should be, wherefore he was in great doubt and torment
of spirit.
[Sidenote: _King Arthur cometh to the hut of an old woman._]
Now the day before King Arthur was to keep his covenant at that castle,
he was wandering through the adjacent forest in great travail of soul,
for he wist not what he should do to save his life. As he wandered so,
he came of a sudden upon a small hut built up under an overhanging
oak-tree so that it was very hard to tell where the oak-tree ended and
the hut began. And there were a great many large rocks all about covered
with moss, so that the King might very easily have passed by the hut
only that he beheld a smoke to arise therefrom as from a fire that
burned within. So he went to the hut and opened the door and entered. At
first he thought there was no one there, but when he looked again he
beheld an old woman sitting bent over a small fire that burned upon the
hearth. And King Arthur had never beheld such an ugly beldame as that
one who sat there bending over that fire, for her ears were very huge
and flapped, and her hair hung down over her head like to snakes, and
her face was covered all over with wrinkles so that there were not any
places at all where there was not a wrinkle; and her eyes were bleared
and covered over with a film, and the eyelids were red as with the
continual weeping of her eyes, and she had but one tooth in her mouth,
and her hands, which she spread out to the fire, were like claws of
bone.
Then King Arthur gave her greeting and she gave the King greeting, and
she said to him, “My lord King, whence come ye? and why do ye come to
this place?”
Then King Arthur was greatly astonished that that old woman should know
him, who he was, and he said, “Who are you that appeareth to know me?”
“No matter,” said she, “I am one who meaneth you well; so tell me what
is the trouble that brings you here at this time.” So the King confessed
all his trouble to that old woman, and he asked her if she knew the
answer to that riddle, “What is it that a woman most desires?” “Yea,”
said the old woman, “I know the answer to that riddle very well, but I
will not tell it to thee unless thou wilt promise me something in
return.”
At this King Arthur was filled with very great joy that the old woman
should know the answer to that riddle, and he was filled with doubt of
what she would demand of him, wherefore he said, “What is it thou must
have in return for that answer?”
Then the old woman said, “If I aid thee to guess thy riddle aright, thou
must promise that I shall become wife unto one of the knights of thy
Court, whom I may choose when thou returnest homeward again.”
“Ha!” said King Arthur, “how may I promise that upon the behalf of
anyone?” Upon this the old woman said, “Are not the knights of thy Court
of such nobility that they will do that to save thee from death?” “I
believe they are,” said King Arthur. And with that he meditated a long
while, saying unto himself, “What will my kingdom do if I die at this
time? I have no right to die.” So he said to the old woman, “Very well,
I will make that promise.”
[Sidenote: _The old woman telleth King Arthur to answer the riddle._]
Then she said unto the King, “This is the answer to that riddle: That
which a woman most desires is to have her will.” And the answer seemed
to King Arthur to be altogether right.
Then the old woman said, “My lord King, thou hast been played upon by
that knight who hath led thee into this trouble, for he is a great
conjurer and a magician of a very evil sort. He carrieth his life not
within his body, but in a crystal globe which he weareth in a locket
hanging about his neck; wherefore it was that when thou didst cut the
head from off his body, his life remained in that locket and he did not
die. But if thou hadst destroyed that locket, then he would immediately
have died.”
“I will mind me of that,” said King Arthur.
So King Arthur abided with that old woman for that night, and she
refreshed him with meat and drink and served him very well. And the next
morning he set forth unto that castle where he had made his covenant,
and his heart was more cheerful than it had been for a whole year.
[Illustration: Sir Gawaine finds the beautiful Lady]
[Illustration] Chapter Third.
_How King Arthur Overcame the Knight-Enchanter, and How Sir Gawaine
Manifested the High Nobility of His Knighthood._
[Sidenote: _King Arthur returneth to the castle of the evil knight._]
Now, when King Arthur came to the castle, the gateway thereof was
immediately opened to him and he entered. And when he had entered,
sundry attendants came and conducted him into the hall where he had
aforetime been. There he beheld the knight of that castle and a great
many people who had come to witness the conclusion of the adventure. And
when the knight beheld King Arthur he said to him, “Sir, hast thou come
to redeem thy pledge?” “Yea,” said King Arthur, “for so I made my vow to
thee.” Then the knight of the castle said, “Sir, hast thou guessed that
riddle?” And King Arthur said, “I believe that I have.” The knight of
the castle said, “Then let me hear thy answer thereto. But if thou
makest any mistake, or if thou dost not guess aright, then is thy life
forfeit.” “Very well,” said King Arthur, “let it be that way. Now this
is the answer to thy riddle: That which a woman most desires is to have
her will.”
Now when the lord of the castle heard King Arthur guess aright he wist
not what to say or where to look, and those who were there also
perceived that the King had guessed aright.
Then King Arthur came very close to that knight with great sternness of
demeanor, and he said, “Now, thou traitor knight! thou didst ask me to
enter into thy sport with thee a year ago, so at these present it is my
turn to ask thee to have sport with me. And this is the sport I will
have, that thou shalt give me that chain and locket that hang about thy
neck, and that I shall give thee the collar which hangeth about my
neck.”
[Sidenote: _King Arthur slayeth the knight of the castle._]
At this, the face of that knight fell all pale, like to ashes, and he
emitted a sound similar to the sound made by a hare when the hound lays
hold upon it. Then King Arthur catched him very violently by the arm,
and he catched the locket and brake it away from about the knight’s
neck, and upon that the knight shrieked very loud, and fell down upon
his knees and besought mercy of the King, and there was great uproar in
that place. Then King Arthur opened the locket and lo! there was a ball
as of crystal, very clear and shining. And King Arthur said, “I will
have no mercy,” and therewith he flung the ball violently down upon the
stone of the pavement so that it brake with a loud noise. Then, upon
that instant, the knight-conjurer gave a piercing bitter cry and fell
down upon the ground; and when they ran to raise him up, behold! he was
entirely dead.
Now when the people of that castle beheld their knight thus suddenly
dead, and when they beheld King Arthur how he stood in the fury of his
kingly majesty, they were greatly afeared so that they shrunk away from
the King where he stood. Then the King turned and went out from that
castle and no one stayed him, and he mounted his horse and rode away,
and no one gave him let or hindrance in his going.
Now when the King had left the castle in that wise, he went straight to
the hut where was the old beldame and he said to her, “Thou hast holpen
me a very great deal in mine hour of need, so now will I fulfil that
pledge which I made unto thee, for I will take thee unto my Court and
thou shalt choose one of my knights for thy husband. For I think there
is not one knight in all my Court but would be very glad to do anything
that lieth in his power to reward one who hath saved me as thou hast
done this day.”
[Sidenote: _King Arthur taketh the old woman away with him._]
Therewith he took that old woman and he lifted her up upon the crupper
of his horse; then he himself mounted upon his horse, and so they rode
away from that place. And the King comported himself to that aged
beldame in all ways with the utmost consideration as though she had been
a beautiful dame of the highest degree in the land. Likewise he showed
her such respect that had she been a lady of royal blood, he could not
have shown greater respect to her.
So in due time they reached the Court, which was then at Carleon. And
they came there nigh about mid-day.
Now about that time it chanced that the Queen and a number of the lords
of the Court, and a number of the ladies of the Court, were out in the
fields enjoying the pleasantness of the Maytime; for no one in all the
world, excepting the esquire, Boisenard, knew anything of the danger
that beset King Arthur; hence all were very glad of the pleasantness of
the season. Now as King Arthur drew nigh to that place, these lifted up
their eyes and beheld him come, and they were astonished beyond all
measure to see King Arthur come to them across that field with that old
beldame behind him upon the saddle, wherefore they stood still to wait
until King Arthur reached them.
But when King Arthur had come to them, he did not dismount from his
horse, but sat thereon and regarded them all very steadfastly; and Queen
Guinevere said, “Sir, what is this? Hast thou a mind to play some merry
jest this day that thou hast brought hither that old woman?”
“Lady,” said King Arthur, “excepting for this old woman it were like to
have been a very sorry jest for thee and for me; for had she not aided
me I would now have been a dead man and in a few days you would
doubtless all have been in great passion of sorrow.”
Then all they who were there marvelled very greatly at the King’s words.
And the Queen said, “Sir, what is it that hath befallen thee?”
Thereupon King Arthur told them all that had happened to him from the
very beginning when he and Boisenard had left the castle of Tintagalon.
And when he had ended his story, they were greatly amazed.
Now there were seventeen lords of the Court there present. So when King
Arthur had ended his story, he said unto these, “Messires, I have given
my pledge unto this aged woman that any one of you whom she may choose,
shall take her unto him as his wife, and shall treat her with all the
regard that it is possible for him to do; for this was the condition
that she laid upon me. Now tell me, did I do right in making unto her my
pledge that I would fulfil that which she desired?” And all of those who
were present said, “Yea, lord, thou didst right, for we would do all in
the world for to save thee from such peril as that from which thou hast
escaped.”
[Sidenote: _The old woman chooseth Sir Gawaine._]
Then King Arthur said to that old woman, “Lady, is there any of these
knights here whom you would choose for to be your husband?” Upon this,
the old woman pointed with her very long, bony finger unto Sir Gawaine,
saying, “Yea, I would marry that lord, for I see by the chain that is
around his neck and by the golden circlet upon his hair and by the
haughty nobility of his aspect, that he must be the son of a king.”
Then King Arthur said unto Sir Gawaine, “Sir, art thou willing to fulfil
my pledge unto this old woman?” And Sir Gawaine said, “Yea, lord,
whatsoever thou requirest of me, that will I do.” So Sir Gawaine came to
the old woman and took her hand into his and set it to his lips; and not
one of all those present so much as smiled. Then they all turned their
faces and returned unto the King’s castle; and they were very silent and
downcast, for this was sore trouble that had come upon that Court.
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine taketh the old woman to wife._]
Now after they had returned unto the Court, they assigned certain
apartments therein to that old woman, and they clad her in rich raiment
such as a queen might wear, and they assigned unto her a Court such as
was fit for a queen; and it seemed to all the Court that, in the rich
robes which she wore, she was ten times more ugly than she was before.
So when eleven days had passed, Sir Gawaine was wedded to that old
woman in the chapel of the King’s Court with great ceremony and pomp of
circumstance, and all of those who were there were as sad and as
sorrowful as though Sir Gawaine had been called upon to suffer his
death.
Afterward that they were married, Sir Gawaine and the old woman went to
Sir Gawaine’s house and there Sir Gawaine shut himself off from all the
world and suffered no one to come nigh him; for he was proud beyond all
measure, and in this great humiliation he suffered in such a wise that
words cannot tell how great was that humiliation. Wherefore he shut
himself away from the world that no one might behold his grief and his
shame.
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine is in great sorrow._]
And all the rest of that day he walked continually up and down his
chamber, for he was altogether in such despair that it came unto his
mind that it would be well if he took his own life; for it seemed to him
impossible for to suffer such shame as that which had come upon him. So
after a while it fell the dark of the early night and therewith a
certain strength came to Sir Gawaine and he said, “This is a shame for
me for to behave in this way; for since I have married that lady she is
my true wedded wife and I do not treat her with that regard unto which
she hath the right.” So he went out of that place and sought the
apartment of that old woman who was his wife, and by that time it was
altogether dark. But when Sir Gawaine had come into that place where she
was, that old woman upbraided him, crying out upon him, “So, Sir! You
have treated me but ill upon this our wedding-day, for you have stayed
all the afternoon away from me and now only come to me when it is dark
night.” And Sir Gawaine said, “Lady, I could not help it, for I was very
sore oppressed with many cares. But if I have disregarded thee this day,
I do beseech thy forgiveness therefore, and I will hold myself willing
to do all that is in my power to recompense thee for any neglect that I
have placed upon thee.” Then the lady said, “Sir, it is very dark in
this place; let us then have a light.” “It shall be as thou dost
desire,” said Sir Gawaine, “and I, myself, will go and fetch a light for
thee.”
So Sir Gawaine went forth from that place and he brought two waxen
tapers, one in either hand, and he bore them in candlesticks of gold;
for he was minded to show all respect unto that old woman. And when he
came into the room he perceived that she was at the farther end of the
apartment and he went toward her, and she arose and stood before him as
he approached.
[Sidenote: _Of the beautiful lady who appeareth to Sir Gawaine._]
But when the circle of light fell upon that old woman, and when Sir
Gawaine beheld her who stood before him, he cried out aloud in a very
great voice because of the great marvel and wonder of that which he saw.
For, instead of that old woman whom he had left, he beheld a lady of
extraordinary beauty and in the very flower of her youth. And he beheld
that her hair was long and glossy and very black, and that her eyes were
likewise black like to black jewels, and that her lips were like coral,
and her teeth were like pearls. So, for a while, Sir Gawaine could not
speak, and then he cried out, “Lady! lady! who art thou?”
Then that lady smiled upon Sir Gawaine with such loving-kindness that he
wist not what to think, other than that this was an angel who had
descended to that place out of paradise. Wherefore he stood before her
for a long time and could find no more words to say, and she continued
to smile upon him very kindly in that wise. Then by and by Sir Gawaine
said to her, “Lady, where is that dame who is my wife?” And the lady
said, “Sir Gawaine, I am she.” “It is not possible,” cried out Sir
Gawaine, “for she was old and extraordinarily ugly, but I believe that
thou art beautiful beyond any lady whom I have beheld.” And the lady
said, “Nevertheless, I am she and because thou hast taken me for thy
wife with thine own free will and with great courtesy, so is a part of
that enchantment that lay upon me removed from me. For I will now be
able to appear before thee in mine own true shape. For whiles I was a
little while ago so ugly and foul as thou didst behold me to be, now am
I to be as thou seest me, for one-half the day--and the other half
thereof I must be ugly as I was before.”
Then Sir Gawaine was filled beyond all words with great joy. And with
that joy there came an extreme passion of loving regard for that lady.
So he cried out aloud several times, “This is surely the most wonderful
thing that ever befell any man in all the world.” Therewith he fell down
upon his knees and took that lady’s hands into his own hands, and kissed
her hands with great fervor, and all the while she smiled upon him as
she had done at first.
Then again the lady said, “Come, sit thee down beside me and let us
consider what part of the day I shall be in the one guise, and what part
of the day I shall be in the other guise; for all day I may have the one
appearance, and all night I may have the other appearance.”
Then Sir Gawaine said, “I would have thee in this guise during the night
time, for then we are together at our own inn; and since thou art of
this sort that I now see thee, I do not at all reckon how the world may
regard thee.”
Upon this the lady spake with great animation, saying, “No, sir, I would
not have it in that wise, for every woman loveth the regard of the
world, and I would fain enjoy such beauty as is mine before the world,
and not endure the scorn and contempt of men and women.”
To this Sir Gawaine said, “Lady, I would have it the other way.”
And she said, “Nay, I would have it my way.”
[Sidenote: _Sir Gawaine giveth the lady her will._]
Then Sir Gawaine said, “So be it. For since I have taken thee for my
wife, so must I show thee respect in all matters; wherefore thou shalt
have thy will in this and in all other things.”
Then that lady fell a-laughing beyond all measure and she said, “Sir, I
did but put this as a last trial upon thee, for as I am now, so shall I
always be.”
Upon this Sir Gawaine was so filled with joy that he knew not how to
contain himself.
So they sat together for a long time, hand in hand. Then after a while
Sir Gawaine said, “Lady, who art thou?” Unto which she made reply, “I am
one of the Ladies of the Lake; but for thy sake I have become mortal
like to other women and have quit that very beautiful home where I one
time dwelt. I have kept thee in my heart for a considerable while, for I
was not very far distant at that time when thou didst bid adieu to Sir
Pellias beside the lake. There I beheld how thou didst weep and bewail
thyself when Sir Pellias left thee, wherefore my heart went out to thee
with great pity. So, after a while, I quitted that lake and became
mortal for thy sake. Now, when I found the trouble into which King
Arthur had fallen I took that occasion to have him fetch me unto thee so
that I might test the entire nobility of thy knighthood; and, lo! I have
found it all that I deemed it possible to be. For though I appeared to
thee so aged, so ugly, and so foul, yet hast thou treated me with such
kind regard that I do not believe that thou couldst have behaved with
more courtesy to me had I been the daughter of a king. Wherefore it doth
now afford me such pleasure for to possess thee for my knight and my
true lord, that I cannot very well tell thee how great is my joy
therein.”
[Sidenote:_Sir Gawaine lets make great rejoicing._]
Then Sir Gawaine said, “Lady, I do not think it can be so great as my
joy in possessing thee.” And thereupon he came to her and laid his hand
upon her shoulder and kissed her upon the lips.
Then, after that, he went forth and called with a great voice all
through that house, and the people of the house came running from
everywhere. And he commanded that the people should bring lights and
refreshments, and they brought the lights, and when they had brought
them and beheld that beautiful lady instead of the aged dame, they were
filled with great wonder and joy; wherefore they cried out aloud and
clapped their hands together and made much sound of rejoicing. And they
set a great feast for Sir Gawaine and his lady, and in place of the
sorrow and darkness that had been, there was joy and light, and music
and singing; wherefore those of the King’s Court, beholding this from a
distance, said, “It is very strange that Sir Gawaine should have taken
so much joy of having wedded that old beldame.”
But when the next morning had come, that lady clad herself in raiment of
yellow silk, and she hung about her many strands of precious stones of
several colors, and she set a golden crown upon her head. And Sir
Gawaine let call his horse, and he let call a snow-white palfrey for the
lady, and thereupon they rode out from that place and entered the Court
of the King. But when the King and the Queen and their several Courts
beheld that lady, they were filled with such great astonishment that
they wist not what to say for pure wonder. And when they heard all that
had happened, they gave great joy and loud acclaim so that all their
mourning was changed into rejoicing. And, indeed, there was not one
knight there of all that Court who would not have given half his life to
have been so fortunate in that matter as was Sir Gawaine, the son of
King Lot of Orkney.
* * * * *
Such is the story of Sir Gawaine, and from it I draw this significance:
as that poor ugly beldame appeared unto the eyes of Sir Gawaine, so doth
a man’s duty sometimes appear to him to be ugly and exceedingly
ill-favored unto his desires. But when he shall have wedded himself unto
that duty so that he hath made it one with him as a bridegroom maketh
himself one with his bride, then doth that duty become of a sudden very
beautiful unto him and unto others.
So may it be with ye that you shall take duty unto yourselves no matter
how much it may mislike ye to do so. For indeed a man shall hardly have
any real pleasure in his life unless his inclination becometh wedded
unto his duty and cleaveth unto it as a husband cleaveth unto his wife.
For when inclination is thus wedded unto duty, then doth the soul take
great joy unto itself as though a wedding had taken place betwixt a
bridegroom and a bride within its tabernacle.
Likewise, when you shall have become entirely wedded unto your duty,
then shall you become equally worthy with that good knight and gentleman
Sir Gawaine; for it needs not that a man shall wear armor for to be a
true knight, but only that he shall do his best endeavor with all
patience and humility as it hath been ordained for him to do. Wherefore,
when your time cometh unto you to display your knightness by assuming
your duty, I do pray that you also may approve yourself as worthy as Sir
Gawaine approved himself in this story which I have told you of as above
written.
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[Illustration] CONCLUSION
_So endeth this volume wherein hath been told, with every circumstance
of narration, the history of those Three Worthies who were of the Court
of King Arthur.
And now, if God will give me the grace to do so, I will some time, at no
very great time from this, write the further history of sundry other
knights and worthies of whom I have not yet spoken.
And among the first of these shall be Sir Launcelot, whom all the world
knoweth to have been the greatest knight in prowess of arms of any who
has lived, excepting Sir Galahad, who was his son. And I shall tell you
the story of Sir Ewaine and Sir Geraint, and of Sir Percival and of
sundry others.
But of this another time. For now, with great regret I bid you adieu and
bring this history unto a close.
So may God grant us to come together at another time with such happiness
and prosperity that you may have a free and untroubled heart to enjoy
the narrated history of those excellent men which I shall then set
before you. Amen._
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