after him, and so they both fled till they came to his companions who
were in the meadow, where they spent the night. When Sir Whishard saw
Sir Gawain so hurt, he ran to him weeping, and asked him who it was had
wounded him; and Sir Gawain told him how he had fought with that
man--pointing to Prianius--who had salves to heal them both. "But I can
tell ye other tidings," said he--"that soon we must encounter many
enemies, for a great army is close to us in our front."
Then Prianius and Sir Gawain alighted and let their horses graze while
they unarmed, and when they took this armor and their clothing off, the
hot blood ran down freshly from their wounds till it was piteous to
see. But Prianius took from his page a vial filled from the four rivers
that flow out of Paradise, and anointed both their wounds with a certain
balm, and washed them with that water, and within an hour afterwards
they were both as sound and whole as ever they had been. Then, at the
sound of a trumpet, all the knights were assembled to council; and after
much talking, Prianius said, "Cease your words, for I warn you in yonder
wood ye shall find knights out of number, who will put out cattle for a
decoy to lead you on; and ye are not seven hundred!"
"Nevertheless," said Sir Gawain, "let us at once encounter them, and see
what they can do; and may the best have the victory."
Then they saw suddenly an earl named Sir Ethelwold, and the Duke of
Duchmen come leaping out of ambush of the woods in front, with many a
thousand after them, and all rode straight down to the battle. And Sir
Gawain, full of ardor and courage, comforted his knights, saying, "They
all are ours." Then the seven hundred knights, in one close company, set
spurs to their horses and began to gallop, and fiercely met their
enemies. And then were men and horses slain and overthrown on every
side, and in and out amidst them all, the knights of the Round Table
pressed and thrust, and smote down to the earth all who withstood them,
till at length the whole of them turned back and fled.
"By heaven!" said Sir Gawain, "this gladdeneth well my heart, for now
behold them as they flee! they are full seventy thousand less in number
than they were an hour ago!"
Thus was the battle quickly ended, and a great host of high lords and
knights of Lombardy and Saracens left dead upon the field. Then Sir
Gawain and his company collected a great plenty of cattle, and of gold
and silver, and all kind of treasure, and returned to King Arthur, where
he still kept the siege.
"Now God be thanked," cried he; "but who is he that standeth yonder by
himself, and seemeth not a prisoner?"
"Sir," said Sir Gawain, "he is a good man with his weapons, and hath
matched me; but cometh hither to be made a Christian. Had it not been
for his warnings, we none of us should have been here this day. I pray
thee, therefore, let him be baptized, for there can be few nobler men,
or better knights."
So Prianius was christened, and made a duke and knight of the Round
Table.
Presently afterwards, they made a last attack upon the city, and entered
by the walls on every side; and as the men were rushing to the pillage,
came the Duchess forth, with many ladies and damsels, and kneeled before
King Arthur; and besought him to receive their submission. To whom the
king made answer, with a noble countenance, "Madam, be well assured that
none shall harm ye, or your ladies; neither shall any that belong to
thee be hurt; but the Duke must abide my judgment." Then he commanded to
stay the assault and took the keys from the Duke's eldest son, who
brought them kneeling. Anon the Duke was sent a prisoner to Dover for
his life, and rents and taxes were assigned for dowry of the Duchess and
her children.
Then went he on with all his hosts, winning all towns and castles, and
wasting them that refused obedience, till he came to Viterbo. From
thence he sent to Rome, to ask the senators whether they would receive
him for their lord and governor. In answer, came out to him all the
Senate who remained alive, and the Cardinals, with a majestic retinue
and procession; and laying great treasures at his feet, they prayed him
to come in at once to Rome, and there be peaceably crowned as Emperor.
"At this next Christmas," said King Arthur, "will I be crowned, and hold
my Round Table in your city."
Anon he entered Rome, in mighty pomp and state; and after him came all
his hosts, and his knights, and princes, and great lords, arrayed in
gold and jewels, such as never were beheld before. And then was he
crowned Emperor by the Pope's hands, with all the highest solemnity that
could be made.
Then after his coronation, he abode in Rome for a season, settling his
lands and giving kingdoms to his knights and servants, to each one after
his deserving, and in such wise fashion that no man among them all
complained. Also he made many dukes and earls, and loaded all his
men-at-arms with riches and great treasures.
When all this was done, the lords and knights, and all the men of great
estate, came together before him, and said, "Noble Emperor! by the
blessing of Eternal God, thy mortal warfare is all finished, and thy
conquests all achieved; for now in all the world is none so great and
mighty as to dare make war with thee. Wherefore we beseech and heartily
pray thee of thy noble grace, to turn thee homeward, and give us also
leave to see our wives and homes again, for now we have been from them a
long season, and all thy journey is completed with great honor and
worship."
"Ye say well," replied he, "and to tempt God is no wisdom; therefore
make ready in all haste, and turn we home to England."
So King Arthur returned with his knights and lords and armies, in great
triumph and joy, through all the countries he had conquered, and
commanded that no man, upon pain of death, should rob or do any violence
by the way. And crossing the sea, he came at length to Sandwich, where
Queen Guinevere received him, and made great joy at his arrival. And
through all the realm of Britain was there such rejoicing as no tongue
can tell.
IX
SIR GAWAIN AND THE MAID WITH THE NARROW SLEEVES
Now it happened that as Sir Gawain was riding one day through the
country he encountered a troop of knights, followed by a squire, who led
a Spanish charger, and about whose neck was hung a shield. Gawain rode
up to the squire and said, "Tell me, what is yonder troop that hath
ridden by?"
The squire answered, "Sir, Meliance of Lis, a brave and hardy knight."
"Is it to him you belong?" Sir Gawain asked.
"Nay, sir," said the squire, "my master is Teudaves, a knight as worthy
as this one."
"Teudaves I know," said Gawain. "Whither fareth he? Tell me the truth."
"He proceedeth to a tourney, sir, which this Meliance of Lis hath
undertaken against Thiébault of Tintagel. If you will take my advice you
will throw yourself into the castle, and take part against the
outsiders."
"Was it not," cried Gawain, "in the house of this Thiébault that
Meliance of Lis was nurtured?"
"Aye, sir, so God save me!" said the squire. "His father loved Thiébault
and trusted him so much that on his death-bed he committed to his care
his little son, whom Thiébault cherished and protected, until the time
came when the youth petitioned his daughter to give him her love; but
she replied that she would never do that until he should be made a
knight. The youth, being ardent, forthwith had himself knighted, and
then returned to the maiden. 'Nay,' answered the girl to his renewed
suit, 'it shall never be, until in my presence you shall have achieved
such feats of arms that I will know my love hath cost you somewhat; for
those things which come suddenly are not so sweet as those we earn. If
you wish my love, take a tournament of my father. I desire to be certain
that my love would be well placed in case I were to grant it.' What she
suggested he performed, for love hath such lordship over lovers that
those who are under his power would never dare refuse whatever it
pleased him to enjoin. And you, sir, sluggish will you be if you do not
enter the castle, for they will need you greatly, if you might help
them."
To which Sir Gawain answered, "Brother, go thy way, it would be wise of
you, and let my affairs be." So the squire departed, and Gawain rode
towards Tintagel, for there was no other way by which he could pass.
Now Thiébault had summoned all his kith and kin, who had come, high and
low, old and young; but he could not get the permission of his council
to joust with his master, for the councillors feared lest he should
utterly ruin their castle. Therefore the gates had been walled up with
stones and mortar, leaving as the only approach one small postern,
which had a gate made of copper, as much as a cart could haul. Sir
Gawain rode to the gate, behind the troop that bore his harness, for
there was no other road within seven leagues. He found the postern shut
and so he turned into a close below the tower, that was fenced with a
palisade. He dismounted under an oak and hung up his shields. Thither
came the folk from the castle, most of them sorry that the tourney had
been abandoned; in the fortress was an aged nobleman, great in land and
lineage, whose word no one disputed. A long way off the troop had been
pointed out to him, and before they rode into the close he went to
Thiébault, and said, "Sir, so God save me, I have seen two companions of
King Arthur, worthy men, who ride this way; I advise you to tourney with
good hope, for we have brave knights, and servants, and archers, who
will slay their horses, and I am certain they will joust before this
gate; if their pride shall bring them the gain will be ours, and theirs
will be the loss and the shame."
As a result of this counsel Thiébault allowed those who wished to take
their arms and sally forth. The knights were right glad, and their
squires ran after their horses, while the dames and the damsels climbed
high places to see the tourney. Below, in the meadow, they saw the arms
of Sir Gawain, and at first thought that there were two knights, because
two shields hung from the tree. They cried out that they were fortunate
to see two such knights arm. So some thought; but others exclaimed,
"Fair Lord God, this knight hath arms and steeds sufficient for two; if
he hath no companion, what will he do with two shields? Never was seen a
knight who carried two shields at one and the same time. It is very
strange if one man means to bear two shields."
While the ladies talked and the knights went forth from the castle the
elder daughter of Thiébault mounted to the tower, she on account of whom
the tournament had been undertaken, and with her her younger sister,
whose sleeves were so quaint that she was called the Maid with the
Narrow Sleeves, for she wore them tight. Dames and damsels climbed the
tower with them, and the tourney was joined in front of the castle. None
bore himself so well as Meliance of Lis, by the testimony of his fair
friend, who said to those about her, "Ladies, never did I see a knight
who delighted me as doth Meliance of Lis. Is it not a pleasure to see
such a knight? That man must have a good seat and be skillful in the use
of lance and shield who beareth himself so excellently."
Thereupon her sister, who sat by her side, said that she saw a fairer
knight. The elder maiden was angry and rose to strike her sister. But
the ladies interfered, and held her back, so that she missed her blow,
which greatly incensed her.
In the tournament many lances were shivered, shields pierced, and
knights unhorsed; and it went hard with the knight who met Meliance of
Lis, for there was none he did not throw on the hard ground. If his
lance broke, he dealt great blows with his sword; and he bore himself
better than any other knight on either side, to the great joy of his
fair friend, who could not resist exclaiming, "Ladies, it is wonderful!
Behold the best bachelor knight of whom minstrel hath ever sung or whom
eyes have ever seen, the fairest and bravest of all those in the
tourney!"
Then the little girl cried, "I see a handsomer one, and 'tis like, a
better!"
The elder sister grew hot. "Ha, girl, you were malapert when you were so
unlucky as to blame one whom I praised! Take that, to teach you better
another time!" So saying, she slapped her sister, so hard that she left
on the little girl's cheek the print of her five fingers. But the ladies
who sat near scolded her and took her away.
After that they fell to talking of Sir Gawain. One of the damsels said,
"The knight beneath yonder tree, why doth he delay to take arms?" A
second damsel, who was ruder, exclaimed, "He hath sworn to keep the
peace." And a third added, "He is a merchant. Don't tell me that he
desireth to joust; he bringeth horses to market." "He is a
money-changer," said a fourth. "The goods he hath he meaneth to sell to
poor bachelors. Trust me, he hath money or raiment in those chests."
"You have wicked tongues!" cried the little girl. "And you lie! Do you
think a merchant would bear such huge lances? You tire me to death,
talking such nonsense! By the faith that I owe the Holy Spirit, he
seemeth to me a knight rather than a merchant or a money-changer. He is
a knight, and he looketh like one!"
The ladies all cried with one voice, "Fair sweet friend, if he looketh
so, it doth not follow that he is so. He putteth it on because he
wisheth to cheat the tariff. But in spite of all his cleverness he is a
fool, for he will be taken up and hung for a cheat."
Now Gawain heard all that the ladies said about him, and he was ashamed
and annoyed. But he thought, and thought rightly, that he lay under an
accusation of treason, and that it was his duty to keep his pledge or
forever disgrace himself and his line. It was for this reason that he
took no part in the tourney, lest, if he fought, he should be wounded or
taken prisoner.
Meliance of Lis called for great lances, to strike harder blows. Until
night fell the tourney continued before the gate; the man who took any
booty carried it to some place where he thought it would be safe. Then
the ladies saw a squire, tall and strong, who held a piece of a lance
and bore on his neck a steel cap. One of the ladies, who was foolish,
called to him, saying, "Sir squire, so God help me, it is foolish of you
to make prize of that tester, those arms and croup-piece. If you do a
squire's duty you deserve a squire's wage. Below, in yonder meadow, is a
man who hath riches he cannot defend. Unwise is he who misseth his gain
while he hath the power to take it. He seemeth the most debonair of
knights, and yet he would not stir if one plucked his beard. If you are
wise, take the armor and the treasure, none will hinder you."
The squire went into the meadow and struck one of Gawain's horses,
crying, "Vassal, are you sick that all day long you gape here and have
done nothing, neither pierced shield nor shivered lance?"
Sir Gawain answered, "Pray, what is it to you why I tarry? You shall
know, but not now. Get you gone about your business."
The squire withdrew, for Gawain was not the type of man to whom he would
dare say anything unpleasant.
The tourney ended, after many knights had been killed and many horses
captured. The outsiders had had the best, and the people of the castle
gained by the intermission. At parting they all agreed that on the
morrow with songs they would meet again and continue the encounter. So
for that night they separated and those who had sallied forth returned
to the castle, followed by Sir Gawain. At the gate he met the nobleman
who had advised his lord to engage in the tourney. This man accosted him
pleasantly, and said, "Fair sir, in this castle your hostel is ready. If
it pleaseth you, remain here, for if you should go on it would be long
before you arrived at a lodging; therefore I urge you to stay."
"I will tarry, your mercy!" said Gawain. "I have heard worse words."
The man led the guest to his house, talking of this and that, and asked
him why on that day he had not borne arms. Sir Gawain explained how he
had been accused of treason and was bound to be on his guard against
prison and wounds until he could free himself from the reproach that was
cast upon him, for it would be to the dishonor of himself and his
friends if he should fail to appear at the time appointed.
The nobleman praised him, and said that if this was the reason he had
done right. With that he led Gawain to his house, where they dismounted.
The people of the castle blamed him, wondering how his lord would take
it; while the elder daughter of Thiébault did her best to make trouble
for Gawain, on account of her sister, with whom she was angry. "Sir,"
she said to her father, "on this day you have suffered no loss, but made
a gain, greater than you think; you have only to go and take it. The man
who hath brought it will not dare to defend it, for he is wily. Lances
and shields he bringeth, with palfreys and chargers, and maketh himself
resemble a knight to cheat the customs, so that he may pass free when he
cometh to sell his wares. Render him his deserts. He is with Garin, the
son of Bertan, who hath taken him to lodge at his house. I just saw him
pass."
Thiébault took his horse, for he himself wished to go there. The little
girl, who saw him leave, went out secretly by a back gate and straight
down the hill to the house of Garin, who had two fair daughters. When
these saw their little lady they should have been glad, and glad they
were, each took her by a hand and led her into the house, kissing her
eyes and lips.
In the meantime Garin and his son Herman had left the house and were
going up to the castle to speak to their lord. Midway there they met
Thiébault and saluted him. He asked whither Garin was going and said he
had intended to pay him a visit. "By my faith," said the nobleman, "that
will not displease me, and at my house you shall see the fairest of
knights."
"It is even he whom I seek," said Thiébault, "to arrest him. He is a
merchant who selleth horses and pretendeth to be a knight."
"Alas," said Garin, "'tis a churlish speech I hear you make! I am your
man and you are my master, but on the spot I renounce your homage, and
in the name of all my line now defy you, rather than suffer you to
disgrace my house."
"Indeed," answered Thiébault, "I have no wish to do any such thing.
Neither you nor your house shall ever receive aught but honor from me;
not but what I have been counseled so to proceed."
"Your great mercy!" exclaimed the nobleman. "It will be my honor if you
will visit my guest."
So side by side they went on until they reached the house. When Sir
Gawain saw them, he rose out of courtesy, and said, "Welcome!" The two
saluted him and took their seats beside him. Then the nobleman, who was
the lord of that country, asked why he had taken no part in the tourney,
and Gawain narrated how a knight had accused him of treason and how he
was on his way to defend himself in a royal court. "Doubtless,"
answered the lord, "that is sufficient excuse. But where is the battle
to be held?"
"Sir, before the king of Cavalon, whither I am journeying."
"And I," said the nobleman, "will guide you. Since you must needs pass
through a poor country, I will provide you with food and packbeasts to
carry it."
Gawain answered that he had no need to accept anything, for if it could
be bought he would have food and lodging wherever he went.
With these words Thiébault took leave. As he departed, from the opposite
direction he saw come his little daughter, who embraced Gawain's leg,
and said, "Fair sir, listen! I have come to complain of my sister, who
hath beaten me. So please you, do me justice!"
Gawain made no answer, for he did not know what she meant. He put his
hand on her head, while the girl pulled him, saying, "To you, fair sir,
I complain of my sister. I do not love her, since to-day she hath done
me great shame for your sake."
"Fair one, what have I to do with that? How can I do you justice against
your sister?"
Thiébault, who had taken leave, heard his child's entreaty, and said,
"Girl, who bade you come here and complain to this knight?"
Gawain asked, "Fair sweet sir, is this maid your daughter?"
"Aye; but never mind what she says. A girl is a silly creature."
"Certes," said Gawain, "I should be churlish if I did not do what she
desires. Tell me, my sweet child and fair, in what manner I can justify
you against your sister."
"If it pleaseth you, for love of me, bear arms in the tourney."
"Tell me, dear friend," said Gawain, "have you ever before made petition
to any knight?"
"No, sir."
"Never mind her," exclaimed her father. "Pay no heed to her folly."
Sir Gawain answered, "Sir, so aid me the Lord God, for so little a girl,
she hath spoken very well, and I will not refuse her. To-morrow, if she
wisheth, I will be her knight."
"Your mercy, fair sweet sir!" cried the child, who was overjoyed, and
bowed down to his feet.
Without more words they parted. Thiébault carried his daughter back on
the neck of his palfrey. As they rode up the hill be asked her what the
quarrel had been about, and she told him the story from beginning to
end, saying, "Sir, I was vexed with my sister, who declared that
Meliance of Lis was the best of all the knights; and I, who had seen
this knight in the meadow, could not help saying that I had seen a
fairer, whereupon my sister called me a silly girl and beat me. Fie on
me, if I take it from her! I would cut off both my braids close to my
head, which would be a great loss, if to-morrow in the tourney this
knight would conquer Meliance of Lis, and put an end to the fuss of
madam, my sister! She talked so much that she tired all the ladies; but
a little rain will hush a great wind."
"Fair child," said her father, "I command and allow you, in courtesy, to
send him some love-token, a sleeve or a wimple."
The child, who was simple, answered, "With pleasure since you bid me.
But my sleeves are so small, I should not like to send them. Most likely
he would not care for them."
"Daughter, say no more," said Thiébault. "I will think about it. I am
very glad." So saying, he took her in his arms, and had great joy of
embracing and kissing her, until he came in front of his palace. But
when his elder daughter saw him approach, with the child before him, she
was vexed, and exclaimed, "Sir, whence cometh my sister, the Maid with
the Narrow Sleeves? She is full of her tricks; she hath been quick about
it; where did you find her?"
"And you," he answered, "what is it to you? Hush, for she is better than
you are. You pulled her hair and beat her, which grieveth me. You acted
rudely; you were discourteous."
When she heard her father's rebuke, the maid was greatly abashed.
Thiébault had brought from his chests a piece of red samite, and he bade
his people cut out and make a sleeve, wide and long. Then he called his
daughter and said, "Child, to-morrow rise betimes and visit the knight
before he leaveth his hostel. For love's sake you will give him this
new sleeve, which he will wear in the tourney when he goeth thither."
The girl answered that so soon as ever she saw the clear dawn she would
dress herself and go. With that her father went his way, while she, in
great glee, charged her companions that they should not let her
oversleep but should wake her when day broke, if they would have her
love them. They did as she wished, and when it dawned caused her to wake
and dress. All alone she went to the house where Sir Gawain lodged, but,
early though it was, the knights had risen and gone to the monastery to
hear mass sung. She waited until they had offered long orisons and
listened to the service, as much as was right. When they returned the
child rose to greet Sir Gawain, and cried, "Sir, on this day may God
save and honor you! For love of me, wear the sleeve which I carry in my
hand."
"With pleasure," he answered; "friend, your mercy!"
After that the knights were not slow to take arms, and came pouring out
of the town, while the damsels again went up to the walls and the dames
of the castle saw the troops of brave and hardy knights approach.
They rode with loose rein, and in front was Meliance of Lis, who went so
fast that he left the rest in the rear, two rods and more. When his
maiden saw her friend she could not keep quiet, but cried, "Ladies,
yonder comes the man who hath the lordship of chivalry!"