Although the two chargers had been urged to full tilt with the spur, Gawan’s lance had remained whole, and so he took it with him on leaving the bright meadow. Many ladies wept at his setting out and leaving them. ‘The man on whom we have pinned our high hopes has chosen a lady who is balm to his eyes yet a thorn to his heart,’ Queen Arnive lamented. ‘Alas, that he should now be following the Duchess Orgeluse towards Li gweiz prelljus! This bodes ill for his wounds!’ Four hundred ladies gave way to lamentation while he rode off to win renown. Any distress he suffered from his wounds was banished by the radiance of Orgeluse’s looks.
‘You must get me a garland from the twig of a certain tree,’ she said. ‘If you will give it me I shall praise your exploit, and then you may ask for my love.’
‘Madam, wherever that twig may be,’ he replied, ‘which can win me such high renown and bliss that I may acquaint you with my passion in the hope that you will favour me, I shall cull it unless death prevents me!’
However gay the flowers in that meadow, they were as nothing beside the brightness shed there by Orgeluse. She was so deep in Gawan’s thoughts that his former sufferings gave him no trouble now.
Thus leaving the Castle behind her, Orgeluse rode on with her guest along a broad, straight road for some two miles until they came to a magnificent forest of tamarisk and brazil, as willed by Clinschor whose forest it was.
‘Where shall I break the twig for the Garland that will mend my happiness, now so full of holes?’ He ought to have swung her down, as has often happened since to many a fine lady.
‘I shall show you where you can assert your claim to prowess,’ she said. They rode over the fields towards an escarpment till they saw the tree of the Garland. ‘Sir,’ she then said, ‘that tree is tended by the man who robbed me of my happiness. If you fetch me down a twig of it no knight would ever have won such high renown for love’s sake as a lady’s Servitor.’ Such were the words of this duchess.
‘I shall go no further. If you intend to ride on, may it rest in God’s hands! There will be no need to drag matters out, urge your mount to one spirited leap from here and you are over Li gweiz prelljus.’ She halted on the meadow, and Gawan rode on.
Gawan now heard the roar of a torrent which had cut a broad, deep bed for itself, barring the way. Yet the gallant, noble warrior set spur to his horse and drove him forward… The animal landed with only his forelegs on the far side, and so the leap ended in a spill, at which (though it may surprise you) the Duchess wept. The current was fast and strong, and Gawan exerted his great strength, but was weighed down by his armour. He then saw a branch of a tree that had taken root in the river and this the mighty man seized, since he wished to go on living. His lance was floating beside him, so the warrior grabbed it and climbed up on to the bank.
Meanwhile Gringuljete was swimming, now partly above water, now submerged. Gawan turned to help him. The beast had drifted so far downstream that Gawan could have done without having to run after him, burdened with heavy armour and weakened by many wounds as he was. But a whirlpool now drove his mount towards him, and he reached him with his lance at a point where heavy rains had carved out a broad gulley through the steep slope. Here the river-bank was breached, saving Gringuljete; for with his lance Gawan edged him so near to the shore that he was able to grasp his bridle. And so my lord Gawan hauled his charger on to the meadow, where, safe and sound, the beast shook himself. Gawan’s shield had not been lost either, and after girthing his horse he took possession of it. If there are any who do not protest at all his sufferings, let it rest. He had much to endure, since Love it was who willed it. – Dazzling Orgeluse was driving him on his gallant way towards the Garland.
The tree was so well guarded that had there been two Gawans they would have had to yield up their lives in the attempt to win the Garland which King Gramoflanz kept. And nevertheless Gawan culled it.
The river was called the Sabins, and it was a rough toll Gawan gathered when he and his mount splashed into it! However radiant Orgeluse’s looks, I would not take her love on such terms, I know where to draw the line.
When Gawan had broken the twig and set the Garland on his helmet, a handsome knight in the very prime of life rode up to him. His arrogant spirit was such that however much a man might have wronged him he declined to do battle with him unless he were one of two or more. His heart was so proud and lofty that whatever any one man did to him he let it rest without contention. Fil li roy Irot, that is, King Gramoflanz, offered Gawan a good morning.
‘Sir,’ he said, ‘I have not let this Garland go entirely. I should have withheld my greeting had there been two of you who had not forborne to take a twig from my tree in this fashion in hope of making a name for themselves. They would have had to defend themselves! But like this it is beneath my notice.’
For his part too Gawan would have been disinclined to fight with him, for the King had ridden out unarmed – rather was the illustrious warrior carrying on his noble fist a moulted sparrowhawk which Gawan’s charming sister Itonje had sent him. His royal head was shaded by a peacock-feather hat from Sinzester, and the mantle he wore was of grass-green samite lined with gleaming ermine and cut so that its points on either side brushed the ground. The fine ambler which carried the King was of moderate height but strong enough and not lacking in marks of beauty. It had been brought from Denmark by land (unless it was by sea). The King rode quite defenceless, since he wore no sword.
‘Your shield declares you have been fighting,’ said King Gramoflanz, ‘there is so little left of it. – Lit marveile has fallen to you, you have endured the adventure which should have awaited me, except that subtle Clinschor has always set me a peaceful precedent and that I am at war with a lady who with her beauty has won true love’s victory. Her anger against me is unabated, and indeed she has overriding cause: I slew her noble husband Cidegast in the company of three others. I then abducted Orgeluse and offered her a crown and all my lands: yet her heart has vented its hostility on all my offers to subserve her. I kept her for a whole year subject to my entreaties, yet failed to win her love, I must tell you with deep sorrow. It is clear to me that she has offered you her love, since you are here to encompass my death. Now had you brought another with you, you could have taken my life, or both of you would have died – thus much would you have got for your trouble. My heart is set on other love, where help depends on your favour, now that you are lord of Terre mar-veile, for your prowess has won you glory. If you feel kindly disposed, help me with a young woman for whom my heart suffers pangs. She is King Lot’s daughter. Of all the women in the world none ever gained such cruel power over me. I have her love-token here. So convey to the handsome young lady there the assurance of my devotion. I am persuaded she is well disposed towards me, since I have faced the dangers of battle for her sake. After mighty Orgeluse vehemently and explicitly denied me her love, any renown I have since won, with pleasure or with pain, was brought to pass by Itonje. To my sorrow I have never set eyes on her. But if you will console me with your help, deliver this little ring to my sweet and lovely lady. You will be entirely exempt from battle here unless your numbers are greater, that is, two or more. Who would set it down to my credit if I were to kill you or force your surrender? I have never agreed to fight on such terms.’
‘I am a man well able to give an account of himself,’ replied my lord Gawan. ‘If you have no wish to win the fame of slaying me, for my part I shall gain none for having culled this twig; for who would give me any great credit for slaying you, unarmed as you are? So I will bear your message. Give me the ring and let me convey your humble duty and tell your doleful tale.’
The King thanked him profusely, and Gawan continued: ‘Since it is beneath your dignity to fight me, tell me who you are, sir.’
‘Do not think any the worse of me if I divulge my name,’ answered the King. ‘My father was named Irot, and he was slain by King Lot. I am King Gramoflanz. The integrity of my lofty spirit decrees that I shall never fight w
ith one man whatever the wrong he has done me, except a man called Gawan, whom I have heard so highly praised that I should like to meet him in battle to avenge my sorrows. For his father treacherously slew my father in the very act of greeting. I have enough to seek in that quarter. But now Lot has died, and Gawan has won pre-eminence in fame such as no other knight of the Table Round can match. The day on which I do battle with him will surely come.’
‘If you mean to do so to please your friend – assuming that she is one –’ replied the son of noble Lot, ‘while you accuse her father of such a low-down trick and would gladly kill her brother too, then she is a wicked young woman not to protest at such behaviour on your part. If she had filial and sisterly feelings she would shield both father and brother and seek to wean you from this hostility. How seemly would it be for your father-in-law to have committed an act of treachery? If you have not exacted vengeance upon yourself for having imputed treachery to him, a dead man, his son will not be disheartened or deterred from doing so! If he cannot count on his pretty sister’s good offices, he will hazard his own person in. this affair! Sir, my name is Gawan. Whatever my father has done to you, avenge it on me, for he is dead! To shield him from calumny I will stake in single combat any honour life has brought me!’
‘If you are he with whom I stand in lasting feud, your noble nature both gladdens and saddens me,’ said the King. ‘There is something about you that pleases me, namely that I am to fight with you. For your part a great honour has befallen you, in that I have conceded to you alone that I shall meet you in single combat. And it will enhance the glory of born if we invite noble ladies to witness it. I shall bring fifteen hundred, and you too have a resplendent company at Schastel marveile. For your complement bring your uncle King Arthur from the Land called Löver. Do you know the town of Bems-on-Korcha? – His following are all diere. He can arrive here in a week from now in gay pomp. I myself shall appear on the field at Joflanze on the sixteenth day from today to exact payment for this Garland.’
The King invited Gawan to accompany him into the town of Rosche Sabins. ‘You will find no other bridge.’
‘I shall go back die way I came,’ replied Gawan. ‘I shall do as you ask in all else.’
They pledged their word that they would come to die duelling-ground at Joflanze with knights and ladies to do single combat with one another at die time and on die terms laid down.
And so Gawan took his leave of that noble man. With a light heart he gave his horse free rein – he was wearing die Garland as crest! – and far from wishing to check his mount he spurred him towards die gorge. Gringuljete timed his leap so well and made such ample allowance that Gawan did not come down. The Duchess now rode up to where he had alighted on the grass to girti his horse and quickly dismounted opposite him, then, puissant lady, threw herself at his feet.
‘My lord, I never deserved die hardships I asked you to undergo,’ she said. ‘Truly, your trials afflicted me with such heartfelt suffering as a faithful woman must feel for her dear friend.’
‘If it is true, madam,’ he said, ‘that no hidden malice lurks in what you are saying to me, you are on die way to getting a good name. Do not doubt that I know this much: if Knighthood is to be given its due, you have wronged it! The Office of die Shield is so sublime that whoever practised it correctly never let himself be made a mock of. Madam, if I may say so myself, all who have seen me engaged in chivalry have had to concede my competence: yet several times since you first met me you have maintained die contrary. But no matter: receive this Garland. By your dazzling looks, you must never again offer a knight such insults! If I am to be die butt of your mockery I would radier be without love.’
‘My lord,’ said die lovely Duchess amid a flood of tears, ‘when I tell you of die distress that weighs on my heart you will grant that mine is the greater sorrow. Let any I have slighted have the courtesy to pardon it. I cannot lose more happiness man I lost in peerless Cidegast! My fine handsome charming lover! Inspired by desire of true honour, his renown was so illustrious that mortal men, whoever they were, had to concede him fame unsurpassed by any other. He was a fount of quality, untouched by any falsity, his youth fecund of excellence. Pressing up from darkness he had unfolded towards me light and thrust his fame so high that it could be reached by none whom baseness had power to weaken; indeed it grew so high from his heart’s seed that all other was overshadowed by it. How does swift Saturn run his course high above all other planets…? My paragon of a husband – for I can truly call him so – was as faithful as the unicorn, a creature maidens should lament, since it is for his love of purity that he is slain. I was his heart, he my life. I lost him, and am a woman fraught with loss. He was slain by King GramoílÁnz, from whom you bring this Garland. My lord, if I have used you ill it was because I wished to put to the test whether you were of such worth that I should offer you my love. I am well aware that I said things which offended you; yet it was to try you out. Now graciously set aside your anger and pardon me once and for all like the very gallant knight you are. I compare you to gold that has been purified in die fire – your spirit has been purged. The man whose harm I sought through you and whom I still hope to harm has done me mortal wrong.’
‘Unless death forestall me, madam,’ replied my lord Gawan, ‘I shall acquaint that king with such desperation as will check his arrogance I I have pledged my word to ride and meet him in single combat shortly – men indeed we shall tax our manhood! My lady, I have pardoned you. If you would be so civil as not to frown on my uncouth suggestion, I should advise what would be much to your honour as a woman and what noblesse enjoins. We are now alone. – Madam, grant me your favour.’
‘I have never warmed to a mail-clad arm,’ she answered. ‘But I will not dispute that at some time you may claim the reward you have deserved. I shall mourn all your sufferings till you are well again and your various wounds and lesions are healed. I will go up to Schastel marveile with you.’
‘Then you are making me a very happy man,’ said this ardent lover as, gathering the lovely woman firmly to him, he lifted her on to her palfrey. (She had thought him unworthy of such a favour when he had met her beside die spring and she had addressed him so forwardly.)
Gawan rode happily on, but she could not restrain her tears till he joined her in her sorrow and asked her to say why she was weeping and begged her in God’s name to forbear.
‘I must complain to you,’ she said, ‘of the man who slew noble Cidegast, causing sorrow to grope into my heart where happiness had dwelt whilst I still enjoyed his love! I am not so far reduced that I have not since sought to harm that king at great cost, with many sharp jousts aimed at his life. What if you were to give me die help that would avenge me and make good die grief that has given edge to my sufferings! To encompass Gramoflanz’s death I accepted service offered by a king who was lord of earth’s most precious treasure. Sir, his name is Anfortas. In the name of love I received from him the merchandise of Thabronit which still stands at your Gate and could only be had for a fortune. In my service this king suffered a disaster that ruined my whole happiness. Instead of giving him love I was forced to seek new griefs – he was wounded in my service! Anfortas’s wound brought me equal or greater sorrow than Cidegast had power to give me. Now tell me, how am I, poor woman, with my faithful heart, to keep my reason in the face of such afflictions? My mind does give way, now and then, when I think of him lying diere so helpless – the man I chose to console me for die loss of Cidegast and to avenge him. Now hear me pronounce by what means Clinschor acquired die rich Merchandise at your Gate.
‘After comely Anfortas, sender of die gift, had been turned away forever from love and its ecstasies, I went in dread lest I be put to shame. For Clinschor has the art of necromancy at his beck unfailingly, so that he can bind men and women with his spells. Of all the worthy people on whom his eye falls not one does he leave without trouble. And so I gave him my precious Merchandise in order to be left in peace, and on diese terms: that I s
hould seek the love of the man who had faced and achieved the Adventure; but that if he would not favour me the Merchandise should revert to me. – In such terms did those present swear. As matters stand, it shall be our joint possession. I was hoping to bring Gramoflanz down with this ruse, but unfortunately this has not yet come about – had he gone for the Adventure he would have met his death!
‘Clinschor is subtle and urbane. For the sake of his prestige he lets me have my famous retinue engage in deeds of arms with lance and sword throughout his lands. Every day of every week of the year I have special detachments on the watch for haughty Gramoflanz, some by day, others by night, at such great cost have I planned to harm him. He has fought many battles with them – what is it that shields him all die time? I steadfastly plotted his death. I allowed many to serve me for love who, though too wealthy to accept my pay, were otherwise well disposed towards me – yet without promise to requite them. No man ever saw me whose service I could not have had, bar one who wore red armour. He put my retinue in great jeopardy, since he undid them to such effect, riding up to Logroys, that he strewed them on the ground in a way that gave me little pleasure. Five of my knights pursued him to a place between Logroys and your landing-stage: he discomfited them all on die meadow and gave their mounts to the ferryman. After he had defeated my people, I rode after the warrior myself and offered him my lands and person. He replied that he had a wife more beautiful and one he held more dear. I was piqued by what he said and asked him who she might be. “She whose looks are so radiant is called the Queen of Belrepeire. My own name is Parzival. I do not want your love: the Gral bids me seek other troubles.” With diese wrathful words the fine warrior rode off. Tell me, please, was it wrong of me to offer the noble knight my love with an eye to avenging my bereavement, and has it cheapened my love?’
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