But Pellinore did grimace, saying, “I lost my kingdom hopelessly pursuing the Questing Beast. Once bitten, et cetera. Besides, I have not ate my meat, and am sufficiently hungry to fall to an entire baron of beef.”
But Gawaine hearing this, and already envious of Pellinore for gaining the seat next Arthur, when he, a nephew of the king’s own blood, must sit away from him (and therefore Arthur’s wish to allay envy by having a round and not a rectangular table was defied), he did purpose to go upon this quest himself and thereby gain great honor for himself and deny it to Pellinore.
But when Gawaine rose and announced his purpose, the king, who was determined to allow no intestine rivalry except on the jousting-field, said, “Thou, Gawaine, shalt seek the white hart.” And turning to Pellinore he said, “Be a good chap, Pellinore, and pursue the knight with the lady.”
Now Gawaine did sulk, for he had enjoyed an anticipatory vision of killing the knight and making lascivious use of the grateful lady (to whom furthermore he would be entitled by the old laws of courtesy). And King Arthur was well aware of this, which is why he gave Gawaine that part of the quest that concerned the stag. For Gawaine was not as yet so great in soul as he would become. Yet he lost no time in caparisoning himself in full armor and riding in pursuit of the white hart, the which he tracked by means of its hoofprints and also its fumets, which were pure white like unto those of a bird, and after many leagues this trail led to a castle.
Seeing nobody at the gate nor in the yard, Gawaine dismounted and entered this castle on foot, and no sooner had he got inside than a knight did rush at him with a naked sword, and he was hard put to defend his life. But at last he smote the knight to the floor, and he unlaced his helm, and putting his sword at the unprotected neck, he asked him to yield.
“Yield I do,” said the other, “and I beg your mercy as knight and nobleman.”
“That you may have,” said Gawaine, and he allowed the knight to rise.
But no sooner had this happened than the knight proved himself a deceitful man and a violator of the laws of courtesy, for he picked up his fallen sword once more and again he rushed at Gawaine. But Sir Gawaine struck him down once more and removing his helm altogether he swore he would cut off his head.
Now the knight made great moan and begged so piteously for his life to be spared that Gawaine relented and gave him mercy. And then the knight arose, and once again did he attack Sir Gawaine.
Therefore Gawaine felled the treacherous man for the third time, and he said to him, “Felon, prepare to die.” And he lifted his sword high, with great contempt owing to the shrieks which he then heard and believed to come from the knight who at the prospect of death had turned womanly. For Gawaine did not realize that it was indeed a lady who screamed, and now she came from behind him and she hurled herself upon the body of the knight, at just the same moment that the sword was swiftly descending to cut off the knight’s head, and instead it cut off her own.
Looking upon this terrible thing that had been done by misadventure, Sir Gawaine was as if a man of stone, he who had been so great a lover of women, and the bright-red blood flowed around his boots.
Now the other knight rose from the floor and lifting up the headless body of the lady spake as follows. “Sir Gawaine, you have done a passing foul deed in killing this damsel. All ladies are under the protection of the knights of the Round Table at all times and everywhere, whoever they may be and even when they seem wicked.”
And Sir Gawaine knew the greatest shame.
“Now,” said the knight, “for no quest is without purpose, henceforth you will be the pre-eminent protector of ladies amongst the company of the Table and their especial champion. Any knight must defend any lady who comes to him for succor. You must have it as your principal purpose to seek out distressed female persons and offer them your aid.”
Now Sir Gawaine, though still knowing great dole, thought that his punishment, if such it were, was not so heavy as it might have been, for since being a very young child he had ever been a great womanizer and not only for narrow matters of venery: he was much pleased by female company from little maids to aged crones, whereas he was much uneasy, owing to feelings of rivalry, in the exclusive fellowship of men, for while he was never the very greatest knight, and though his superiors in prowess Launcelot and Tristram were to have single loves more famous than his (because adulterous, for Fame doth love Shame), Sir Gawaine would know women better than all the other knights together, for ladies are generally fond of those who admire them, and it is rather other men, owing to envy, who condemn lechers, and not women.
Therefore Sir Gawaine’s part of this quest was finished, and he returned to King Arthur’s court. And when he had gone from the castle where he had accidentally chopped off the lady’s head, the knight put her body down, and she took up her head from the floor and placed it upon her neck. For she was not a human woman but rather the Lady of the Lake.
“Now,” said she to the knight, who was one of the men whom she held in thrall and used as retainers, “let us go to deal with King Pellinore.” For it had been the Lady of the Lake and this knight who had created the scene at court, with the white hart and the false kidnaping.
Meanwhile, what had happened with Pellinore was this: though reluctant to go upon a new quest, when he did once begin one he soon grew fanatical on it, as he had been when following the Questing Beast, losing his country thereby. So now, when some leagues away from Camelot he came upon a damsel a-sitting beside a well, with a wounded, bleeding knight lying in her arms, King Pellinore saluted her but continued on his way to look for the lady who had been carried out of Arthur’s court by the huge knight in black armor, for so only had he been charged to do.
And the damsel by the well cried out piteously, “Help me for the sake of Jesus Christ!” But King Pellinore, though he was a good man, would not suffer to be distracted when upon a quest, and thus he rode onwards, and in a little while the wounded man died in the damsel’s arms, and in grief over this she slew herself with his sword.
But Pellinore knew nought of this unhappy event, for he had gone out of that valley and into the next, where he saw a silken pavilion in a meadow, and before it was the very knight who had come into the court of King Arthur and stolen the lady away by force.
Now riding up to him King Pellinore said, “Sir knight, I am charged to find the lady you took away and to return her to King Arthur. This is my quest, and it took me from my meat, which I would fain not have left. Therefore be sure that nothing will keep me from completing this quest but my death.”
“My lord,” said the knight, who was large as a tree and his armor was black as night, “know you that this lady is my property and there is no means to have her while I do live.” Then he lowered his visor, mounted his huge horse, fewtered his lance, and King Pellinore did the same, and drawing apart the length of the meadow, they did charge upon each other.
Now in the shock of their meeting, which was so violent that the wind made by it did almost blow down the pavilion, both lances splintered against both shields, and the other knight was thrown from his steed. Therefore Pellinore dismounted, so as not to have the uncourteous advantage even though this was a fight to the death, and he drew his sword.
But the other knight jeered at him for his foolishness, saying, “Had you remained mounted, you might have lived longer.” For he towered above King Pellinore, and his sword itself was five foot long.
“Sir knight,” said King Pellinore, “there is but one manner in which a quest must be pursued, and that is according to the right principles, which do not admit alteration.”
“Then die of excess courtesy,” said the knight.
“And far better it will be than to live ignobly,” said King Pellinore.
Then the knight raised his great sword in two hands high over his head, but before he could bring it down Pellinore smote him across the waist, cutting him through the belly, and next he gave him such a stroke upon the helmet that it parted down
to the nasal, as did the head within it, the which was sliced as if it were a melon, and when King Pellinore took his blade away, the knight’s brains did spew out of both parts of his cleft skull.
Then having cleansed his sword on the grass Pellinore did enter the pavilion, where he found the lady lying upon a satin couch, and she was stark naked and passing fair, with long red hair and green eyes, and she did greet him lovingly, with provocation of body, saying, “Take me, for you have won me.”
“Nay,” said King Pellinore, “my quest doth not permit me such a thing. I am charged to deliver you to King Arthur, and nothing more.”
Therefore the lady rose and clothed herself. “Thou art a good knight,” said she, “and have performed well. Yet thou art not perfect.”
And on the journey back to Camelot, Pellinore pondered on this strange statement, which he did not understand, for he had done exactly what he had been commanded to do by his liege lord King Arthur, than which no knight could do more. And so they came unto the Round Table, where Arthur yet sate and with all the company including Sir Gawaine, who was downcast.
“King Arthur!” said the lady. “Know you I have lately tested two of your foremost knights.”
“Then tell me, lady,” said Arthur, “what is thy judgment of their performance. Did they do well or ill?”
“Both well and ill,” said the lady. “Mostly well, but with a certain failure, the which in each case was significant.”
Now King Arthur was some vexed, for he did not take to this lady, whom he believed too proud, and seeing both Gawaine and Pellinore still living, he knew that their quests had been achieved. “Lady,” said he, “I hope thou art not being too fine in these matters, or over-nice. For obviously thou hast been delivered, else thou wouldst not be here.”
“Well, Arthur,” said the lady, “I do not speak lightly. Know you that I am the Lady of the Lake.” And at this, King Arthur and all his company did gasp in amazement.
“The same, then, who gave me Excalibur?” asked King Arthur, and then he knew shame. “I had supposed that a trick of Merlin’s,” said he.
“Know you then,” said the lady, “that some things are not mere wizardry, and that a king must always allow for what I must call the possibility of the impossible, the existence of that which can never be explained to mortals, who foolishly distinguish between that which they can touch and that which they dream.”
But King Pellinore’s guts were rumbling with hunger, and now he looked for his plate of meat, which Sir Kay had removed, and therefore he was peevish.
“Well, lady,” he said, “if you are impalpable spirit, I am a man, and damn me if I know for what you took me away from my meal, when I did as well as I could only to be told it wasn’t as good as it should have been.”
“Well,” to him said the Lady of the Lake, “thy failure was a grave one. And thou shalt remember it all the days of thy life. The weeping damsel holding the wounded knight was thine own daughter, whom thou hadst not seen since thou didst undertake to follow the Questing Beast. The knight who bled into her lap was to have wedded her. Because thou wouldst not stop to aid them, he died and thy daughter slew herself.”
And King Pellinore sobbed into his hands. “Yet,” said he, raising his wet face, “what could I have done? I was upon a quest, charged by King Arthur in the name of the Round Table.”
“No quest,” said the Lady of the Lake, “should be conducted blindly, for ills and evils abound. To have a purpose is good, but to be so intent upon it as to see only its end is folly. Never to be distracted is ultimately to serve nothing but Vanity.”
“Lady,” said King Pellinore, with a certain bitterness, “me-thinks this is a cruel lesson, the which might have been kindlier taught.”
“To a churl, perhaps,” said the lady. “But thou art a knight of the Round Table, who with thy fellows would set a precedent over the past and make an example to the future. He who is noblest becomes so by rising above pain.”
Now Merlin had begun to dote on the Lady of the Lake, for her powers far exceeded his own, though that she was beautiful meant nothing to him, for he was incapable of carnal desire.
But the same was never true of Sir Gawaine, who now recognized her as the lady whom he believed he had beheaded by accident, and not only was he relieved to see her standing hale, but seeing her red tresses falling against her white neck, he knew a quickening of the reins, for it had been some hours since he had had a game abed.
“Lady,” said he, “no doubt there was a moral to the adventure in which I was involved, the sorry initial results of which I am happy to see were not permanent. But should we not pursue the meaning of this mystery in private?”
“Lascivious boy,” said the lady sternly, “’tis time thou didst go beyond thy simple philosophy of groins.”
And to be so chided before the entire company of knights, Sir Gawaine was abashed, but he was also defiant. “But,” said he, “if you were not killed by me, wherein lies the lesson I should learn? And what of mine obligation to be the peculiar defender of ladies?”
“The latter thou hast ever been,” said the Lady of the Lake, and then she smiled, for Sir Gawaine had charm even for such as she (and as there is much boy in any lecher, there is some mother even in faery women). “But thou art lacking in generosity to men. The knight whom thou didst fell yielded to thee. Yet thou wouldst have cut off his head had I not intervened.”
Now Gawaine protested. “Twice earlier he yielded. Then, when I spared him, twice he rose and attacked me again. Surely there is some limit to mercy towards the deceitful.”
“Nay,” said the Lady of the Lake, “there is no limit to mercy, and the treacherous need it most of all.”
“Then,” asked Sir Gawaine, “these yieldings and forgivings should have continued ad infinitum?”
“Until,” said the lady, “thou slewest him standing.”
Now old Merlin did thrill with admiration for this lady, and her divine command of ruth, and he wished to impress her by some means. Therefore he said to King Arthur, “Methinks I must needs go away, now that you have your Round Table, its complement of knights (except for those who will come), and your queen.”
And in truth King Arthur was somewhat weary of the old magician and his devilry, but nonetheless he professed polite regret and asked whether Merlin would remain away for long.
Now in his state of assotment with the Lady of the Lake, Merlin did boast, “Know you, King Arthur, that the matter of Britain is but one of the many irons I have in the fire. There are a myriad stars in the sky, and there is an universe in a drop of water. The air you breathe is not an emptiness, but a fluid in which swim minuscule particles, the which if made to collide together in a certain way could explode all of Camelot.”
But the Lady of the Lake did grimace at him, saying, “What rot you talk, old man.”
“My lady,” said Merlin, “if you would accompany me to my alchemical laboratory I might show you these wonders.”
“I am bored,” said the lady, “by the physical application of reason. I am interested only in that which is mythical. Thou, Merlin, art incapable of making a true miracle. Thou hast never lifted a great weight except by levers, the which thou hast concealed from men’s eyes by putting them under hypnotic spell. And all of thy tricks have been such legerdemain, for when human wits are befuddled Time seems to stop, gravity is suspended, and matter is transparent. But a charlatan can so perform at a fair: and all mortals yearn to be gulled.”
Now her scorn did pique old Merlin, but deliciously, and he said, “Lady, if you will come with me I shall show you marvels not so easily dismissed, clear diamonds I have made from swart coal, and pearls from grains of sand. And a glass through which I can look into the body of a man and sees his bones and entrails, and a black box, the which I call a camera obscura, with which I can take me, upon an emulsion, a likeness of anything in Nature, like unto a picture painted of it.”
“These are but childish sports with matter,” said th
e Lady of the Lake, “but art thou capable of transforming Envy, Vanity, and Spite into the virtues of Self-Respect, Generosity, and Patience?” But then she sighed and said, “However, I shall come with thee, for the time for thy departure is at hand.”
And the Lady of the Lake and Merlin then left the court, and King Arthur was not sorry to see them go; and as for King Pellinore, he was resentful at first as is any man who must recognize his own flaw as having been correctly identified, and he wondered why, if the results of Gawaine’s failing had proved lot to be permanent, his own daughter’s death must be real and not an illusion: for his mistake had been mere neglect, which was to say passive, whereas Gawaine’s, being one of action, would seem much worse: and thus Pellinore was yet the victim of confusion.
But Sir Gawaine did ponder on what the Lady of the Lake had told him, and he determined to be a better knight in future, for ’twas true that he had been wont to see other men only as rivals and therefore he had no male friends.
Now Merlin and the Lady of the Lake reached the Enchanted Forest, where they came upon the weird well of Alaban, where Uther Pendragon’s couriers had found the wizard many years before, and he had gone to the king on their summons, and had begun the thing that led to this moment.
“Now, lady,” he said, “you shall see what no other, male nor female, hath ever seen nor even heard of, for I confess that I love you with all mine heart.” And he went to a great stone near by, the which he lifted with the tip of his littlest finger, discovering thereunder a flight of stone steps which led down into the ground.
But the Lady of the Lake shook her head and said, “Merlin, thy stone is made of parchment, is it not? And painted to resemble granite? Were it not for its hinges, concealed beneath, the wind would carry it away.”
“Well,” said Merlin, “there are more cunning things below.” And he went down the stair, and he touched the wall there and a radiant light appeared, the which revealed a vast subterranean chamber, where there were many strange engines and countless vessels of glass containing corrosive fluids, and it smelled of brimstone.
Arthur Rex Page 12
