‘Late hym go,’ seyde sir Uwayne unto sir Gawayne, ‘for he is a passynge good knyght os ony lyvynge. I wolde not be my wylle that ony of us were macched with hym.’
‘Nay,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘nat so! Hit were shame to us and he were nat assayed, were he never so good a knyght.’
‘Welle,’ seyde sir Uwayne, ‘I wolle assay hym before you, for I am weyker than ye, and yff he smyte me downe than may ye revenge me.’
So thes two knyghtes come togedir with grete raundom, that sir Uwayne smote sir Marhaus, that his spere braste in pecis on the shelde. And sir Marhaus smote hym so sore that horse and man he bare to the erthe, and hurte sir Uwayne on the lefte syde. Than sir Marhaus turned his horse and rode thidir as he com fro and made hym redy with his spere. Whan sir Gawayne saw that, he dressed his shelde, and than they feautirde their sperys, and they com togedyrs with all the myght of their horses, that eyther knyght smote other so harde in myddis the sheldis. But sir Gawaynes spere brake, but sir Marhaus speare helde, and therewith sir Gawayne and his horse russhed downe to the erthe.
And lyghtly sir Gawayne wan on his feete and pulde oute his swerde and dressed hym toward sir Marhaus on foote. And sir Marhaus saw that he pulde oute his swerde, and began to com to sir Gawayne on horsebak.
‘Sir knyght,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘alyght on foote, or ellis I woll sle thyne horse.’
‘Gramercy,’ sayde sir Marhaus, of your jentylnesse! Ye teche me curtesy, for hit is nat commendable one knyght to be on horsebak and the other on foote.’
And therewith sir Marhaus sette his spere agayne a tre, and alyght and tyed his horse to a tre, and dressed his shelde, and eyther com unto other egirly and smote togedyrs with hir swerdys, that hir sheldis flew in cantellys, and they bresed their helmys and hawbirkes and woundid eyther other.
But sir Gawayne, fro hit was nine of the clok, wexed ever strenger and strenger, for by than hit cam to the howre of noone he had three tymes his myght encresed. And all this aspyed sir Marhaus and had grete wondir how his myght encreced. And so they wounded eyther other passyng sore. So whan hit was past noone, and whan it drewe toward evynsonge, sir Gawayns strength fyebled and woxe passyng faynte, that unnethe he myght dure no lenger, and sir Marhaus was than bygger and bygger.
‘Sir knyght,’ seyde sir Marhaus, ‘I have welle felt that ye ar a passynge goode knyght and a mervaylous man of myght as ever I felte ony whyle hit lastyth, and oure quarellys ar nat grete, and therefore hit were pyté to do you hurte, for a fele ye ar passynge fyeble.’
‘A,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘jantyll knyght, ye say the worde that I sholde sey.’
And therewith they toke of her helmys and eyther kyssed other and there they swore togedyrs eythir to love other as brethirne. And sir Marhaus prayde sir Gawayne to lodge with hym that nyght. And so they toke their horsis and rode towarde sir Marhaus maner.
And as they rode by the way, ‘Sir knyght,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘I have mervayle of you, so valyaunte a man as ye be of prouesse, that ye love no ladyes and damesels.’
‘Sir,’ seyde sir Marhaus, ‘they name me wrongfully, for hit be the damesels of the turret that so name me and other suche as they be. Now shal I telle you for what cause I hate them: for they be sorsseres and inchaunters many of them, and be a knyght never so good of his body and as full of prouesse as a man may be, they woll make hym a starke cowerde to have the bettir of hym. And this is the pryncipall cause that I hate them. And all good ladyes and jantyllwomen, I owghe them my servyse as a knyght ought to do.’
For, as the booke rehersyth in Freynsch, there was this many knyghtes that overmacched sir Gawayne for all his thryse double myght that he had: sir Launcelot de Lake, sir Trystrams, sir Bors de Gaynes, sir Percivale, sir Pelleas, sir Marhaus; thes six knyghtes had the bettir of sir Gawayne.
Than within a lytyll whyle they come to sir Marhaus place which was in a lytyll pryory, and there they alyght, and ladyes and damesels unarmed them and hastely loked to their hurtes, for they were all three hurte. And so they had good lodgyng with sir Marhaus and good chere, for whan he wyste that they were kynge Arthurs syster-sonnes he made them all the chere that lay in his power. And so they sojourned there a sevennyght and were well eased of their woundis, and at the laste departed.
‘Nay,’ sayde sir Marhaus, ‘we woll nat departe so lyghtly, for I woll brynge you thorow the foreste.’ So they rode forth all three. And sir Marhaus toke with hym his grettyste spere. And so they rode thorow the foreste, and rode day be day well-nye a seven dayes or they founde ony aventure. So at the laste they com into a grete foreste that was named the contrey and foreste of Arroy, and the contrey is of strange adventures.
‘In this contrey,’ seyde Marhaus, ‘cam nevir knyght syn hit was crystynde but he founde strange adventures.’
And so they rode and cam into a depe valey full of stonys, and thereby they sawe a fayre streme of watir. Aboven thereby was the hede of the streme, a fayre fountayne, and three damesels syttynge thereby. And than they rode to them and ayther salewed othir. And the eldyst had a garlonde of golde aboute her hede, and she was three score wyntir of age or more, and hir heyre was whyght undir the garlonde. The secunde damselle was of thirty wyntir of age, wyth a cerclet of golde aboute her hede. The thirde damesel was but fiftene yere of age, and a garlonde of floures aboute hir hede. Whan thes knyghtes had so beholde them they asked hem the cause why they sate at the fountayne.
‘We be here,’ seyde the damesels, ‘for this cause: if we may se ony of arraunte knyghtes to teche hem unto stronge aventures. And ye be three knyghtes adventures and we be three damesels, and therefore eche one of you muste chose one of us; and whan ye have done so, we woll lede you unto three hyghewayes, and there eche of you shall chose a way and his damesell with hym. And this day twelve moneth ye muste mete here agayne, and God sende you the lyves, and thereto ye muste plyght your trouth.’
‘This is well seyde,’ seyde sir Marhaus. ‘Now shall everyche of us chose a damesell.’
‘I shall tell you,’ seyde sir Uwayne, ‘I am yongyst and waykest of you bothe, therefore lette me have the eldyst damesell, for she hath sene much and can beste helpe me whan I have nede, for I have moste nede of helpe of you bothe.’
‘Now,’ seyde sir Marhaus, ‘I woll have the damesell of thirty wyntir age, for she fallyth beste to me.’
‘Well,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘I thanke you, for ye have leffte me the yongyst and the fayryste, and hir is me moste levyste.’
Than every damesell toke hir knyght by the reygne of his brydyll and brought hem to the three wayes, and there was made promesse to mete at the fountayne that day twelve monthe and they were lyvynge. And so they kyssed and departed, and every knyght sette his lady behynde hym. And sir Uwayne toke the way that lay weste, and sir Marhaus toke the way that lay sowthe, and sir Gawayne toke the way that lay northe.
Now woll we begyn at sir Gawayne that helde that way tyll that he com to a fayre maner where dwelled an olde knyght and a good householder. And there sir Gawayne asked the knyght if he knewe of any aventures.
‘I shall shewe you to-morne,’ seyde the knyght, ‘mervelos adventures.’
So on the morne they rode all in same to the foreste of aventures tyll they com to a launde, and thereby they founde a crosse. And as they stood and hoved, there cam by them the fayreste knyght and the semelyest man that ever they sawe. But he made the grettyst dole that ever man made. And than he was ware of sir Gawayne and salewed hym, and prayde to God to sende hym muche worshyp.
‘As for that,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘gramercy. Also I pray to God sende you honoure and worshyp.’
‘A,’ sayde the knyght, ‘I may lay that on syde, for sorow and shame commyth unto me after worshyppe.’
And therewyth he passed unto that one syde of the lawnde, and [21] on that other syde saw sir Gawayne ten knyghtes that hoved and made hem redy with hir sheldis and with hir sperys agaynste that one knyght that cam by sir Gawayne. Than this one knyght feautred a grete spere, and one of the ten knyghtes encountir
d with hym. But this wofull knyght smote hym so harde that he felle over his horse tayle. So this dolorous knyght served them all, that at the leste way he smote downe horse and man, and all he ded with one spere. And so whan they were all ten on foote they wente to the one knyght, and he stoode stone-stylle and suffyrde hem to pulle hym downe of his horse, and bounde hym honde and foote, and tyed hym undir the horse bely, and so led hym with hem.
‘A, Jesu,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘this is a dolefull syght to se the yondir knyght so to be entreted. And hit semyth by the knyght that he sufferyth hem to bynde hym so, for he makyth no resistence.’
‘No,’ seyde his hoste, ‘that is trouth, for, and he wolde, they all were to weyke for hym.’
‘Sir,’ seyde the damesell unto sir Gawayne, ‘mesemyth hit were your worshyp to helpe that dolerouse knyght, for methynkes he is one of the beste knyghtes that ever I sawe.’
‘I wolde do for hym,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘but hit semyth he wolde have no helpe.’
‘No,’ seyde the damesel, ‘methynkes ye have no lyste to helpe hym.’
Thus as they talked they sawe a knyght on the other syde of the launde all armed save the hede. And on the other syde there com a dwarff on horsebak all armed save the hede, with a grete mowthe and a shorte nose. And whan the dwarff com nyghe he seyde, ‘Where is this lady sholde mete us here?’ And therewithall she com forth oute of the woode. And than they began to stryve for the lady, for the knyght seyde he wolde have hir.
‘Woll we do welle?’ seyde the dwarff. ‘Yondir is a knyght at the crosse. Lette hit be putt uppon hym, and as he demeth hit, so shall hit be.’
‘I woll well,’ seyde the knyght.
And so they wente all three unto sir Gawayne and tolde hym wherefore they stroof.
‘Well, sirres, woll ye putt the mater in myne honde?’
‘Ye, sir,’ they seyde bothe.
‘Now, damesell,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ye shall stonde betwyxte them bothe, and whethir ye lyste bettir to go to he shall have you.’
And whan she was sette betwene hem bothe she lefte the knyght and went to the dwarff. And than the dwarff toke hir up and wente his way syngyng, and the knyght wente his way with grete mournyng.’
Than com there two knyghtes all armed and cryed on hyght, ‘Sir Gawayne, knyght of the courte of kynge Arthure! Make the redy in haste and juste with me!’ So they ran togedirs, that eyther felle downe. And than on foote they drew there swerdis and dud full actually. The meanewhyle the other knyght went to the damesell and asked hir why she abode with that knyght, and seyde, ‘If ye wolde abyde with me I wolde be your faythefull knyght.’
‘And with you woll I be,’ seyde the damesell. ‘for I may nat fynde in my herte to be with hym, for ryght now here was one knyght that scomfyted ten knyghtes, and at the laste he was cowardly ledde away. And therefore let us two go whyle they fyght.’
And sir Gawayne fought with that othir knyght longe, but at the laste they accorded bothe. And than the knyght prayde sir Gawayne to lodge with hym that nyght. So as sir Gawayne wente with this knyght he seyde, ‘What knyght is he in this contrey that smote downe the ten knyghtes? For whan he had done so manfully he suffirde hem to bynde hym hande and foote, and so led hym away.’
‘A,’ sayde the knyght, ‘that is the beste knyght I trow in the worlde and the moste man of prouesse, and hit is the grettyst pyté of hym as of ony knyght lyvynge, for he hath be served so as he was this tyme more than ten tymes. And his name hyght sir Pelleas; and he lovyth a grete lady in this contrey, and hir name is Ettarde. And so whan he loved hir there was cryed in this contrey a grete justis three dayes, and all this knyghtes of this contrey were there and jantyllwomen. And who that preved hym the beste knyght sholde have a passyng good rswerd”l and a cerclet of golde, and that cerclet the knyght sholde geff hit to the fayryste lady that was at that justis.
‘And this knyght sir Pelleas was far the beste of ony that was there, and there were fyve hondred knyghtes, but there was nevir man that ever sir Pelleas met but he stroke hym downe other ellys frome his horse, and every day of three dayes he strake downe twenty knyghtes. And therefore they gaff hym the pryce. And furthewithall he wente thereas the lady Ettarde was and gaff her the cerclet and seyde opynly she was the fayreste lady that there was, and that wolde he preve uppon ony knyght that wolde sey nay.
‘And so he chose hir for his soveraygne lady, and never to love [22] other but her. But she was so prowde that she had scorne of hym and seyde she wolde never love hym thoughe he wolde dye for hir; wherefore all ladyes and jantyllwomen had scorne of hir that she was so prowde, for there were fayrer than she, and there was none that was there but and sir Pelleas wolde have profyrde hem love they wolde have shewed hym the same for his noble prouesse. And so this knyght promysed Ettarde to folow hir into this contray and nevir to leve her tyll she loved hym, and thus he is here the moste party nyghe her and logged by a pryory.
And every weke she sendis knyghtes to fyght with hym, and whan he hath putt hem to the worse, than woll he suffir hem wylfully to take hym presonere because he wolde have a syght of this lady. And allwayes she doth hym grete dispyte, for somtyme she makyth his knyghtes to tye hym to his horse tayle, and somtyme bynde hym undir the horse bealy. Thus in the moste shamfyUyste wyse that she can thynke he is brought to hir, and all she doth hit for to cawse hym to leve this contrey and to leve his lovynge. But all this cannat make hym to leve, for, and he wolde a fought on foote, he myght have had the bettir of the ten knyghtes as well on foote as on horsebak.’
‘Alas,’ sayde sir Gawayne, ‘hit is grete pyté of hym, and aftir this nyght I woll seke hym to-morow in this foreste to do hym all the helpe I can.’
So on the morow sir Gawayne toke his leve of his oste, sir Carados, and rode into the foreste. And at the laste he mette with sir Pelleas makynge grete mone oute of mesure; so eche of hem salewed other, and asked hym why he made such sorow. And as hit above rehersyth sir Pelleas tolde sir Gawayne.
‘But allwayes I suffir her knyghtes to fare so with me as ye sawe yestirday, in truste at the laste to wynne hir love; for she knoweth well all hir knyghtes sholde nat lyghtly wynne me and me lyste to fyght with them to the uttirmoste. Wherefore and I loved hir nat so sore I had lever dye an hondred tymes, and I myght dye so ofte rathir than I wolde suffir that dispyte, but I truste she woll have pyté uppon me at the laste; for love causyth many a good knyght to suffir to have his entente, but alas, I am infortunate!’ And therewith he made so grete dole that unnethe he myght holde hym on his horse bak.
‘Now,’ sayde sir Gawayne, ‘leve your mournynge, and I shall promyse you by the feyth of my body to do all that lyeth in my powere to gete you the love of your lady, and thereto I woll plyghte you my trouthe.’
‘A,’ seyd sir Pelleas, ‘of what courte ar ye?’
‘Sir, I am of the courte of kynge Arthure, and his sistir-son, and kynge Lotte of Orkeney was my fadir, and my name is sir Gawayne.”And my name is sir Pelleas, born in the Iles, and of many iles I am lorde, and never loved I lady nother damesel tyll nowe. And, sir knyght, syn ye ar so nye cosyn unto kyng Arthure and ar a kynges son, therefore betray me nat, but help me, for I may nevir com by hir but by some good knyght, for she is in a stronge castell here faste by, within this four myle, and over all this contrey she is lady off.
‘And so I may never com to hir presence but as I suffir hir knyghtes to take me, and but if I ded so that I myght have a syght of hir, I had bene dede longe ar this tyme. And yet fayre worde had I never none of hir. But whan I am brought tofore hir she rebukyth me in the fowlyst maner; and than they take me my horse and harneyse and puttyth me oute of the yatis, and she woll nat suffir me to ete nother drynke. And allwayes I offir me to be her presoner, but that woll she nat suffir me, for I wolde desire no more, what paynes that ever I had, so that I myght have a syght of hir dayly.’
‘Well,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘all this shall I amende, and ye woll do as I shall devyse. I woll have your armoure, and so woll I ryde unto hir castell and tell hir
that I have slayne you, and so shall I come within hir to cause hir to cheryshe me. And than shall I do my trew parte, that ye shall nat fayle to have the love of hit.’
And there, whan sir Gawayne plyght his trouthe unto sir Pelleas to be trew and feythfull unto hym, so eche one plyght their trouthe to other, and so they chonged horse and harneyse. And sir Gawayne departed and com to the castel where stood hir pavylyons withoute the gate. And as sone as Ettarde had aspyed sir Gawayne she fledde in toward the castell. But sir Gawayne spake on hyght and bade hir abyde, for he was nat sir Pelleas.
‘I am another knyght that have slayne sir Pelleas.’
‘Than do of your helme,’ seyde the lady Ettarde, ‘that I may se your vysage.’
So whan she saw that hit was nat sir Pelleas she made hym alyght and lad hym into hir castell, and asked hym feythfully whethir he had slayne sir Pelleas, and he seyde yee. Than he tolde hir his name was sir Gawayne, of the courte of kynge Arthure and his sistyrs son, and how he had slayne sir Pelleas.
‘Truly,’ seyde she, ‘that is grete pyté for he was a passynge good knyght of his body. But of all men on lyve I hated hym moste, for I coude never be quytte of hym. And for ye have slayne hym I shall be your woman and to do onythynge that may please you.’
So she made sir Gawayne good chere. Than sir Gawayne sayde that he loved a lady and by no meane she wolde love hym.
‘Sche is to blame,’ seyde Ettarde, ‘and she woll nat love you, for ye that be so well-borne a man and suche a man of prouesse, there is no lady in this worlde to good for you.’
‘Woll ye,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘promyse me to do what that ye may do be the fayth of your body to gete me the love of my lady?’
‘Yee, sir, and that I promyse you be my fayth.’
‘Now,’ seyde sir Gawayne, ‘hit is yourself that I love so well; therefore holde your promyse.’
‘I may nat chese,’ seyde the lady Ettarde, ‘but if I sholde be forsworne.’
Complete Works of Sir Thomas Malory Page 15
