Arthurian Romances (84 page)

The men and women said this because they all wanted to warn my lord Gawain not to go to the palfrey, but to turn back instead. Though he heard and understood them well, he would not abandon his quest on this account. He pressed forward and greeted the crowd and they all, men and women alike, returned his salutation, though it seemed that all of them were in great anguish and distress.

My lord Gawain advanced to the palfrey, held out his hand, and tried to take it by the halter, for it was saddled and bridled. But there was a huge knight seated beneath a leafy olive tree who said: ‘Knight, you've wasted your efforts coming for the palfrey. Only false pride could make you reach out your hand for it now; none the less I don't wish to forbid or oppose you if you really want to take it. But I advise you to leave, for if you take it you'll encounter strong opposition elsewhere.'

‘I'll not stop for this reason, good sir,' said my lord Gawain, ‘because the damsel admiring herself in a mirror beneath that elm tree sent me, and if I don't take it back to her now, then what did I come to seek? I would be disgraced throughout the land as a coward and failure.'

‘Then you will suffer for it, good brother,' said the huge knight, ‘because by God the Almighty Father to whom I commend my soul, no knight ever dared take it, as you intend to take it, who did not suffer for it by having his head chopped off. This I fear will happen to you. And if I forbade you to take it I meant no harm by it, for you can lead it away, if you wish: don't stop on my account, or because of anyone you see here. But you will suffer evil consequences if you dare take it out of here. I don't advise you to do so, for you would lose your head.'

My lord Gawain did not delay even a single instant after these words. He drove the palfrey, whose head was half black and half white, in front of him across the plank. It had no difficulty crossing, for it was well trained and schooled, and had crossed it many times. My lord Gawain took it by its rein of silk and came straight to the tree where the damsel was gazing in her
mirror. She had let her mantle and wimple fall to the ground so that one could better admire her face and body. My lord Gawain turned over the saddled palfrey to her, saying: ‘Come along now, maiden, and I'll help you mount.'

‘May God never let you claim, no matter where you go, that you took me in your arms!' said the maiden. ‘If you ever held any part of me with your bare hand, or touched or fondled me, I would think myself shamed. It would bring me much dishonour, if it were ever said or known that you touched my bare flesh. I dare say I'd rather have my flesh and skin sliced right to the bone at that spot! Leave me the palfrey at once – I can easily mount it by myself, for I've no need of your help. And may God permit me to see happen to you what I am expecting to today: before nightfall I shall have cause to rejoice! Go wherever you wish, for you'll not get any closer than you are to my body or my clothing, and I'll follow faithfully until you are overwhelmed by some great shame or misfortune on my account, for I am absolutely sure that I'll cause you to come to grief: it is as unavoidable as death.'

My lord Gawain listened to everything the haughty damsel told him without giving a single word in reply; he just handed over her palfrey to her and she let him have his horse. My lord Gawain leaned over, intending to pick up her mantle and help her put it on, but the damsel glared at him, unafraid and quick to insult a knight.

‘Vassal,' she said, ‘what business do you have with my mantle or wimple? By God, I'm not half as naïve as you think. I have absolutely no desire for you to undertake to serve me, for your hands are not clean enough to hold anything I'd wear or put around my head. Would you dare touch anything destined for my eyes or mouth, or for my forehead or face? May God never honour me again if I ever exhibit even the least desire to accept your service.'

So the maiden mounted, after putting on her clothes and lacing them herself, and said: ‘Now, knight, go wherever you wish and I'll follow along closely until I see you humiliated on my account; and, God willing, that shall be today.'

My lord Gawain held his peace and did not reply a single word. Shamefaced he mounted, and off they set; he turned back, with his head hung low, towards the oak tree where he had left the maiden and the knight who was in great need of a doctor to heal his wounds. And my lord Gawain knew more about healing wounds than anyone. In a hedgerow he saw a herb that was excellent for relieving the pain of wounds, and he went
to pick it. After picking the herb, he rode back until he again found the maiden weeping beneath the oak tree; and she told him as soon as she saw him: ‘My noble lord, I fear that this knight is dead, for he can no longer hear anything.'

My lord Gawain dismounted and found that his pulse was steady and that his mouth and cheeks were still warm.

‘Good maiden,' he said, ‘this knight is alive, you can be certain of it, for he has a steady pulse and is breathing well. And if his wounds are not fatal, I've brought him a herb which, I believe, will be of much help to him and will relieve some of the pain from his injuries as soon as he feels it. One cannot place a better herb upon a wound, for according to the book its strength is such that if it is placed on the bark of a tree that's been damaged, as long as it has not withered completely, the roots will grow again and the tree will once more be able to leaf out and flower. My lady, your friend will be in no danger of dying once this herb is placed upon his wounds and bound tightly. But I'll need a clean wimple to make a bandage.'

‘I'll give you one immediately,' she said, heartened by his words, ‘this very one I'm wearing on my head, for I've brought no other with me here.'

She removed the clean, white wimple from her head, and my lord Gawain cut it into strips, for this was the proper procedure, and used it to bind the herb he possessed over all the knight's wounds; and the maiden helped him as best she knew how.

My lord Gawain did not move until the knight sighed and spoke these words: ‘May God watch over the one who restored my speech, for I was in great fear of dying without confession. The devils had come in procession to seek my soul. Before my body is buried I dearly wish to confess my sins. If I had something to mount, I know a nearby chaplain to whom I'd go to tell all my sins in confession and take communion; I would no longer fear death once I'd made my confession and received communion. But please do me this favour now, if it is not too much trouble: give me the nag that squire is on, who's trotting along in this direction.'

When my lord Gawain heard this, he turned and saw a hideous squire approaching. What was he like? I'll tell you: his hair was tangled and red, bristly and sticking straight up like the spines of an enraged boar: his eyebrows were the same, and they covered his nose and all his face down to his moustache, which was twisted and long. He had a harelip and broad beard, forked and then curled, a short neck and high chest.

My lord Gawain was eager to go to him to find out whether he could have his nag, but first he said to the knight: ‘My lord, so help me God, I
don't know who the squire is. I'd rather give you seven chargers, if I had them here with me, than his poor horse, such as it is.'

‘My lord,' he replied, ‘rest assured that he is seeking nothing so much as to harm you, if he can.'

And my lord Gawain moved towards the approaching squire and asked him where he was going. The uncouth squire said to him: ‘Vassal, what's it to you where I'm going or where I'm coming from? Whatever road I'm taking, a curse upon you!'

My lord Gawain immediately gave him his just deserts: he struck him with open palm, and since he was wearing gauntlets and struck him purposefully, he toppled him from his saddle. And when he tried to stand back up, he stumbled and fell down again, and fainted seven or more times in less space – and this is no joke – than the length of a pinewood lance.

When he finally regained his feet, he said: ‘Vassal, you struck me!'

‘Indeed I did,' replied my lord Gawain, ‘but I didn't hurt you much; yet, as God is my witness, I'm sorry that I struck you – but you did speak rudely!'

‘Now I won't stop until I tell you how I intend to repay you; you'll lose the hand and arm with which you gave me that blow, for it will never be forgiven!'

In the meantime the wounded knight, recovered somewhat from his great weakness, began to speak and said to my lord Gawain: ‘Let this squire be, dear sir, for you'll never hear him say a word to your honour. Leave him, it's for the best; but first bring me his nag, then take this maiden you see here beside me; steady her palfrey and help her mount, for I no longer wish to remain here. If I can, I'll mount this nag and then look for someone to whom I can confess my sins, for I don't intend to stop until I receive the last rites, confess my sins, and take communion.'

My lord Gawain seized the nag at once and handed its reins to the knight, who had regained his sight; he looked at my lord Gawain and recognized him for the first time. My lord Gawain took the damsel and placed her courteously and graciously upon the Norwegian palfrey. While he was helping her to her saddle, the knight took my lord Gawain's horse and mounted, and began to make it prance all around.

My lord Gawain looked up and saw him galloping across the hillside; he was astounded and began to laugh, and with good humour said to him: ‘Sir knight, upon my word, it's very foolish of you to make my horse leap about like that. Dismount and give it to me, for you could easily hurt yourself and cause your wounds to reopen.'

And he answered: ‘Hold your tongue, Gawain! You'd be wise to take the nag, for you've lost your charger. I made him prance to test him out, and now I'll take him as my own.'

‘Hey! I came here to help you, and you would harm me in return? Don't take my horse, for that would be treachery!'

‘Gawain, whatever might happen to me, I don't regret this act; I'd like to rip your heart from your belly with my own two hands.'

‘This reminds me of a proverb,' said my lord Gawain, ‘which states: “Stick out your neck for someone and he'll break it”. I really would like to know why you want to rip out my heart and why you've taken my horse, for I never sought to do you harm, nor have I ever in all my life. I don't believe I've done anything to deserve this; I don't think I've ever seen you before.'

‘You have, Gawain; you saw me when you brought me great dishonour. Don't you recall the knight you tormented so and forced against his will to eat for a month with the hounds, his hands tied behind his back? Know that you acted foolishly, for now it will bring you disgrace.'

‘Then are you Greoreas, who took the damsel by force and did with her what you would? Yet you knew perfectly well that maidens are protected in King Arthur's land. The king has given them safe-conduct, and watches over and protects them. No, I don't think and refuse to believe that this is why you hate me and seek to do me ill, for I acted in accord with the law that is established and set throughout the kingdom.'

‘Gawain, you punished me on that occasion, I remember it well; so now you must suffer what I choose to do: I'll ride off on Gringalet, it's the best vengeance I can have now. You must trade him for the nag of the squire whom you struck down, for you'll get nothing else in exchange.'

At that Greoreas left him and set off after his sweetheart, who was riding rapidly away, and he followed her at full speed. Then the malevolent maiden laughed and said to my lord Gawain:

‘Vassal, vassal, what will you do? After what's happened one can truly say that a few fools flourish still! I'm perfectly aware that it's wrong of me to follow you, so help me God, but wherever you turn I'll gladly follow. I just wish that nag you took from the squire were a mare! You know why I wish that? Because it would be even more disgraceful.'

Immediately my lord Gawain mounted the ridiculous trotting nag, for he had no better option. The nag was an extremely ugly beast: it had a thin neck, an outsized head with long floppy ears, and it was so long in the tooth that they kept one lip from closing to within two fingers' breadth of the
other. Its eyes were weak and poor, its feet eaten away, and its thin flanks were all cut up by spurs. The nag was scrawny and long, with a thin crupper and distended spine. The reins and headstall of its bridle were of frayed rope; the saddle had no blanket pad and was far from new; the stirrups were so short and weak that Gawain did not dare use them.

‘Ha! Things are indeed going well!' said the spiteful maiden. ‘Now I'll be delighted and happy to go wherever you wish, because it is quite right and proper now that I should follow after you for a week or two, or three weeks or a month! Now that you're so well equipped and seated on such a fine horse you really look like a knight who should be escorting a maiden! So the first thing I want is to amuse myself by observing your misfortunes: try spurring your nag a bit to see how it goes! But don't be frightened, he's awfully swift and spirited! I'll follow you, for it is agreed that I'll never quit you until you are truly disgraced, and there is no way you can avoid it now.'

But he replied: ‘Good friend, you may say what you please, though it isn't proper for a girl to be so evil-tongued beyond the age of ten. On the contrary, she should be polite, courteous, and well-mannered.'

‘Unfortunate knight, I have no interest in any lessons from you! Ride on and hold your tongue, for now you're exactly the way I wanted to see you.'

So they rode on until evening, but neither of them said anything more. Gawain rode on, with the maiden following, and no matter how hard he tried he could not discover how to get his nag to run or gallop. Like it or not, it just walked along, for if he even touched it with his spurs it gave him a dreadful ride, jostling his insides so much that in the end he could not bear for it to go faster than a walk. So he rode upon the nag through lonely and uninhabited forests until he came to a flat plain crossed by a deep river, which was so wide that no stone could be shot across it by mangonel or catapult, and no bolt by any crossbow. On the other side of the water sat a very well designed, very strong, and very splendid castle. There is no reason for me to lie about it: the castle sat upon a cliff and was so well fortified that no finer fortress was ever beheld by eye of mortal man; and upon a bare rock was set a great hall entirely of dark marble. There were a good five hundred open windows in the great hall, and a hundred of them were filled with ladies and damsels gazing out into the meadows and flowering orchards in front of them. Most of the damsels were wearing clothes of samite, and most had donned tunics of many hues and silken robes with golden threads. The maidens stood thus at the windows, and those outside could see them from the waist up, with their lustrous hair and elegant bodies.