Everyone asked: ‘How will this knight be put to death? Will he be flayed or hanged, drowned or burned upon a fire of thorns? Say, dwarf – you’re driving him – of what has he been found guilty? Is he convicted of theft? Is he a murderer? Did he lose a trial by combat?’
The dwarf held his silence and answered not a word to anyone. Followed constantly by Gawain, the dwarf took the knight to his lodgings: a tower keep that was on the opposite side of town and level with it. Meadows stretched out beyond the keep, which stood on a high granite cliff that fell sharply away into the valley. Gawain, on horseback, followed the cart into the keep. In the great hall they met an attractively attired girl, the fairest in the land. They saw that she was accompanied by two elegant and beautiful maidens.
As soon as the maidens saw my lord Gawain, they greeted him warmly and inquired about the other knight: ‘Dwarf, what ill has this knight done whom you drive around like a cripple?’
Instead of answering he had the knight get down from the cart, then left; no one knew where he went. My lord Gawain dismounted; then several valets came forward to relieve both knights of their armour. The girl had two miniver-lined mantles brought forward for them to wear. When the supper hour came, the food was splendidly prepared. The girl sat at table beside my lord Gawain. Nothing would have made them wish to change their lodging to seek better, for the girl did them great honour and provided them fair and pleasant company all through the evening.
After they had eaten their fill, two long, high beds were set up in the hall.7 Alongside was a third bed, more resplendent and finer than the others, for, as the tale affirms, it had every perfection one could wish for in a bed. When the time came to retire for the night, the girl took both of the guests to whom she had offered lodging and showed them the two spacious and comfortable beds, saying: ‘These two beds over here are made up for you; but only the one who has earned the privilege may sleep in this third bed nearest us. It was not prepared for you.’
The knight who had arrived in the cart responded to her injunction with complete contempt. ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘why we are forbidden to lie in this bed.’
The girl, having anticipated this question, replied without hesitation: ‘It is not for you to ask or inquire. A knight who has ridden in a cart is shamed throughout the land; he has no right to be concerned with what you have asked me about, and he certainly has no right to lie in this bed, for he might soon regret it. Nor did I have it arrayed so splendidly for you to lie upon; you would pay dearly for even thinking of doing so.’
‘You will see about that in due time,’ he said.
‘Will I?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then let’s see!’
‘By my head,’ said the knight, ‘I don’t know who will pay dearly for this, but I do know that I intend to lie down in this bed and rest as long as I like, whether you like it or not.’
As soon as he had removed his armour, he got into the bed, which was half an ell longer and higher than the other two. He lay down beneath a gold-starred coverlet of yellow samite. The fur that lined it was not skinned squirrel, but sable. The coverlet over him was suited for a king; the mattress was not thatch, or straw, or old matting.
Just at midnight a lance like a bolt of lightning came hurtling at him point first and nearly pinned the knight through his flanks to the coverlet, to the white sheets, and to the bed in which he was lying. On the lance was a pennon that was all ablaze; it set fire to the coverlet, the sheets, and the entire bed. The iron tip of the lance grazed the knight’s side; it removed a little skin, but he was not actually wounded. The knight sat up, put out the flame, then grabbed the lance and hurled it to the middle of the hall. Yet in spite of all this he did not get out of bed; instead he lay back down and slept just as soundly as he had before.
The next morning at daybreak the girl from the keep had preparations made for Mass, then awoke the knights and bade them rise. When Mass had been celebrated for them, the knight who had been seated in the cart came to the window that overlooked the meadow and gazed worriedly out across the fields below. The girl had come to the window nearby, where my lord Gawain spoke with her awhile in private. (I assure you that I don’t know what words they exchanged.) But as they were leaning on the window ledge, they saw down in the meadows below a coffin being carried along the riverbank; a knight was lying in it, and beside it three girls were weeping bitterly. Behind the coffin they saw a crowd coming, at the head of which rode a tall knight escorting a beautiful lady, who was riding to his left. The knight at the other window recognized that it was the queen; as long as she was in view he gazed attentively and with pleasure at her.
When he could no longer see her, he wanted to throw himself from the window and shatter his body on the ground below; he was already half out of the window when my lord Gawain saw him and, after dragging him back inside, said to him: ‘For pity’s sake, sir, calm down! For the love of God, never think of doing such a foolish thing again; you’re wrong to hate your life!’
‘No, it is right he should,’ countered the girl, ‘for won’t the news of his disgrace in the cart be known to all? He certainly should want to be killed, for he’s better off dead than living. Henceforth his life is shamed, scorned, and wretched.’
At that the knights requested their armour, which they donned. Then the girl had a special touch of courtesy and generosity: since she had mocked and ridiculed the knight sufficiently, she now gave him a horse and lance as token of her esteem and reconciliation.
The knights took leave of the girl with proper courtesy. Having thanked her, they then set off in the direction they had seen the crowd taking and were able to pass through the castle yard without anyone speaking to them. They rode as quickly as possible to where they had seen the queen, but they were unable to overtake the crowd, since it was moving at a rapid pace. Beyond the meadows they entered into an enclosed area and found a beaten path. They rode along in the forest until mid-morning, when they encountered a girl at a crossroads. They both greeted her, imploring and praying her to tell them, if she knew, where the queen had been taken.
She replied courteously, saying: ‘If you promise me enough, I can show you the right road and direction and can name for you the land where she is going and the knight who is taking her. But whoever would enter into that land must undergo great tribulations; he will suffer dolefully before getting there.’
My lord Gawain said to her: ‘So help me God, my lady, I pledge my word that if it should please you I will put all my might into your service, if only you will tell me the truth.’
The knight who had ridden in the cart did not say that he pledged her all his might, but rather swore, as one whom Love has made strong and bold for any endeavour, to do anything she might wish without hesitation or fear and to be entirely at her command in everything.
‘Then I shall tell you,’ said she; and she spoke to them as follows: ‘Upon my word, lords, Meleagant, a huge and mighty knight and the son of the king of Gorre,8 has carried her off into the kingdom from which no foreigner returns: in that land he must remain in exile and servitude.’
Then the knights asked further: ‘Dear lady, where is this land? Where can we find the way that leads there?’
‘You will be told,’ she replied, ‘but you must know that you will encounter difficulties and treacherous passes, for it is no easy matter to enter there without the permission of the king, whose name is Bademagu. None the less, it is possible to enter by two extremely perilous ways, two exceptionally treacherous passes. One is named “The Underwater Bridge”, because the bridge is below the water, with as much running above it as beneath – neither more nor less, since the bridge is precisely in the middle; and it is but a foot and a half in width and of equal thickness. This choice is certainly to be shunned, yet it is the less dangerous. And it has many more perils I’ll not mention. The other bridge is more difficult and so much more perilous that it has never been crossed by man, for it is like a trenchant sword; therefore ever
yone calls it “The Sword Bridge”. I have told you the truth as far as I can give it to you.’
Then they asked her further: ‘My lady, would you deign to show us these two ways?’
‘This is the right way to the Underwater Bridge,’ the girl replied, ‘and that way goes right to the Sword Bridge.’
Then the knight who had been driven in the cart said: ‘Sir, I willingly share with you: choose one of these two ways and leave me the other; take whichever you prefer.’
‘Upon my word,’ said my lord Gawain, ‘both passages are exceedingly perilous and difficult. I cannot choose wisely and hardly know which to take; yet it is not right for me to delay when you have given me the choice: I take the Underwater Bridge.’
‘Then it is right that I go to the Sword Bridge without complaint,’ said the other, ‘which I agree to do.’
The three then parted, commending one another gently to God’s care. When the girl saw them riding off, she said: ‘Each of you must grant me a favour at my choosing, whenever I ask it. Take care not to forget that.’
‘In truth, we’ll not forget, fair friend,’ the two knights replied. Then they went their separate ways.
The Knight of the Cart was lost in thought, a man with no strength or defence against love, which torments him. His thoughts were so deep that he forgot who he was; he was uncertain whether or not he truly existed; he was unable to recall his own name; he did not know if he were armed or not, nor where he was going nor whence he came. He remembered nothing at all save one creature, for whom he forgot all others; he was so intent upon her alone that he did not hear, see, or pay attention to anything. His horse carried him swiftly along, following not the crooked way, but taking the better and more direct path. Thus unguided it bore him on to a heath. On this heath was a ford, and on the other side of the ford was an armed knight who guarded it; with him was a girl who had come on a palfrey. Though by this time it was nearing the hour of nones, our knight had not grown weary of his unceasing meditations. His horse, by now quite thirsty, saw the good clear water and galloped towards the ford. From the other side the guardian cried out:
‘Knight, I guard the ford and I forbid you to cross it!’
Our knight did not hear or pay attention to this, for he was still lost in his thoughts; all the while his horse kept racing towards the water. The guard cried out loudly enough to be heard: ‘You would be wise not to take the ford, for that is not the way to cross!’
And he swore by the heart within his breast to slay him if he entered the ford. Yet the knight heard not a word, and so the guard shouted to him a third time: ‘Knight, do not enter the ford against my order, or by my head I’ll strike you the moment I see you in it!’
The knight, still wrapped in his thoughts, heard nothing. His horse leapt quickly into the water, freed himself from the bit, and began to drink thirstily. The guardian swore that the knight would pay for this and that neither his shield nor the hauberk on his back would ever save him. He urged his horse to a gallop, and from the gallop to a run; he struck our knight from his steed flat into the ford that he had forbidden him to cross. The knight’s lance fell into the stream and his shield flew from round his neck. The cold water awakened him with a shock; startled, he leapt to his feet like a dreamer from sleep. He regained his sight and hearing and wondered who could have struck him. Then he saw the guardian and shouted to him: ‘Varlet, tell me why you struck me when I didn’t realize you were in front of me and had done you no wrong?’
‘Upon my word, you have indeed wronged me,’ he answered. ‘Were you not contemptuous of me when I shouted to you three times, as loudly as I could, not to cross the ford? You certainly must have heard at least two of my warnings, yet you entered in spite of me, and I said that I would strike you as soon as I saw you in the water.’
To that the knight replied: ‘May I be damned if ever I heard you or if ever I saw you before! It’s quite possible you did warn me not to cross the ford, but I was lost in my thoughts. Rest assured that you’ll regret this if I ever get even one hand on your reins!’
The guardian of the ford replied: ‘What good would that do you? Go ahead and grab my reins if you dare. I don’t give a fistful of ashes for your haughty threats!’
‘I’d like nothing better than to seize hold of you right now,’ he retorted, ‘no matter what might come of it!’
At that the guardian advanced to the middle of the ford. The unknown knight grabbed the reins with his left hand and a leg with his right. He pulled and tugged and squeezed the leg so hard that the guard cried out, for it felt as if his leg was being yanked from his body.
He implored him to stop: ‘Knight, if it pleases you to fight me on equal terms, then remount your horse and take your lance and shield and come joust with me.’
‘Upon my word, I won’t do it. I think you’ll try to run away as soon as you’re free from my grasp.’
When the other heard this, he was greatly shamed, and answered: ‘Sir knight, mount your horse and have no fear, for I give you my solemn oath that I’ll not flee. You have cast shame upon me and I am offended.’
The unknown knight replied: ‘First you will pledge me your word: I want you to swear to me that you will not flinch or flee, and that you will not touch or approach me until you see me remounted. I shall have been very generous indeed to set you free, when now I have you.’
The guardian of the ford had no choice but to give his oath. When the knight heard his pledge, he went after his lance and shield, which had been floating in the ford, going along with the current, and were by now a good distance downstream. Then he returned to get his horse; when he had overtaken it and remounted, he took the shield by the straps and fewtered his lance.
Then the two spurred towards each other as fast as their steeds could carry them. The knight responsible for guarding the ford reached the other knight first and struck him so hard that he shattered his lance at once. The other dealt him a blow that sent him tumbling flat beneath the water, which closed completely over him. Then the Knight of the Cart withdrew and dismounted, confident that he could drive away a hundred such before him. He drew his steel-bladed sword from his scabbard, and the other knight sprang up and drew his fine, flashing blade. Again they engaged in hand-to-hand struggle, protected behind their shields, which gleamed with gold.
Their swords flashed repeatedly; they struck such mighty blows and the battle was so lengthy that the Knight of the Cart felt shame in his heart and said that he would be unable to meet the trials of the way he had undertaken, since he needed so long to defeat a single knight. Had he met a hundred such in a valley yesterday, he felt certain they would have had no defence against him, so he was exceedingly distressed and angry to be so weak today that his blows were feeble and his day wasted. Thereat he rushed the guardian of the ford until he was forced to give way and flee; though loath to do so, he left the ford’s passage free. Our knight pursued him until he fell forward on to his hands; then the rider of the cart came up to him and swore by all he could see that he would rue having knocked him into the ford and disturbed his meditations.
Upon hearing these threats, the girl whom the knight of the ford had brought with him was most fearful and begged our knight for her sake not to kill the other. But he said that in truth he must; he could not show the mercy she asked since the other had shamed him so. Then he came up to him, with sword drawn.
Frightened, the guardian said: ‘For God’s sake and mine, show me the mercy I ask of you!’
‘As God is my witness,’ replied the Knight of the Cart, ‘no person has ever treated me so vilely that, when he begs me for mercy in God’s name, I would not show him mercy at once for God’s sake, as is right. Since I would do wrong to refuse what you have asked in His name, I will show you mercy; but first you will swear to become my prisoner wherever and whenever I summon you.’
With heavy heart he swore this to the knight, whereupon the girl said: ‘Sir knight, since in your goodness you have granted him the mercy
he requested, if ever you have released a captive, release this one now to me. If you free him for me, I swear to repay you in due course whatever you would be pleased to request that is within my power to grant.’
And then the knight understood who she was from the words she spoke, and he released his prisoner to her. She was troubled and upset, for she feared he had recognized her, which she did not want him to do. But he was eager to be off, so the girl and her knight commended him to God and asked his leave, which he granted.
Then he continued on his way until near nightfall, when he beheld a most comely and attractive girl approaching. She was splendidly attired and greeted him properly and graciously. He replied: ‘May God keep you well and happy.’
‘Sir,’ she then said, ‘my lodging nearby is set to welcome you if you will take my advice and accept my hospitality. But you may lodge there only if you agree to sleep with me – I make my offer on this condition.’
Many would have thanked her five hundred times for such an offer, but he became quite downcast and answered her very differently: ‘My lady, I thank you most sincerely for your kind offer of hospitality; but, if you please, I would prefer not to sleep with you.’
‘By my eyes,’ said the girl, ‘on no other condition will I lodge you.’
The knight, when he saw he had no choice, granted her what she wished, though it pained his heart to do so. Yet if it wounded him now, how much more it would do so at bedtime! The girl who accompanied him would likewise suffer disappointment and sorrow; perhaps she would love him so much that she would not want to let him go. After he had granted her her wish, she led him to the finest bailey from there to Thessaly. It was enclosed round about by high walls and a deep moat. There was no one within, apart from him for whom she had been waiting.
Arthurian Romances Page 30
