But the fair lady of the castle rose betimes, and clad herself in a rich
mantle that reached even to the ground, and was bordered and lined with
costly furs. On her head she wore no golden circlet, but a network of
precious stones, that gleamed and shone through her tresses in clusters
of twenty together. Thus she came into the chamber and set open a
window, and called to him gaily, “Sir Knight, how may ye sleep? The
morning is so fair.”
Sir Gawain was deep in slumber, and in his dream he vexed him much for
the destiny that should befall him on the morrow, when he should meet
the knight at the Green Chapel, and abide his blow; but when the lady
spake he heard her, and came to himself, and roused from his dream and
answered swiftly. The lady came laughing, and kissed him courteously,
and he welcomed her fittingly with a cheerful countenance. He saw her so
glorious and gaily dressed, so faultless of features and complexion,
that it warmed his heart to look upon her.
They spake to each other smiling, and all was bliss and good cheer
between them. They exchanged fair words, and much happiness was therein,
yet was there a gulf between them, and she might win no more of her
knight, for that gallant prince watched well his words—he would neither
take her love, nor frankly refuse it. He cared for his courtesy, lest he
be deemed churlish, and yet more for his honour lest he be traitor to
his host. “God forbid,” quoth he to himself, “that it should so befall.”
Thus with courteous words did he set aside all the special speeches that
came from her lips.
Then spake the lady to the knight, “Ye deserve blame if ye hold not that
lady who sits beside ye above all else in the world, if ye have not
already a love whom ye hold dearer, and like better, and have sworn such
firm faith to that lady that ye care not to loose it—as I scarce may
believe. And now I pray ye straitly that ye tell me that in truth, and
hide it not.”
And the knight answered, “By S. John” (and he smiled as he spake) “no
such love have I, nor do I think to have yet awhile.”
“That is the worst word I may hear,” quoth the lady, “but in sooth I
have mine answer; kiss me now courteously, and I will go hence; I can
but mourn as a maiden that loves much.”
Sighing, she stooped down and kissed him, and then she rose up and spake
as she stood, “Now, dear, at our parting do me this grace: give me some
gift, if it were but thy glove, that I may bethink me of my knight, and
lessen my mourning.”