The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights

by John Steinbeck

But Sir Ewain said, "I am the youngest of the three and not so strong and experienced; therefore, let me have the oldest lady. She has seen much and she can best help me when I have need, for I shall need help more than the others."

  The youngest damsel flushed with anger.

  Sir Marhalt said, "Very well, if there is no opposing wish, I will choose the lady of maturity and grace. We too will have much in common, being neither very old nor very young but eased of vanities and not too demanding of each other."

  Sir Gawain crowed, "I thank you, gentle companions. The one remaining is the one I would have chosen at the risk of offending, for she is the youngest and fairest of all and I like her best."

  Sir Marhalt said, "Either we are fortunate by accident or God has chosen for us so that there is no dissension or anger. Now, ladies, lead us to our starting place."

  The ladies rose and each took the bridle of her knight, and where the path split into three they promised to return to this spot in twelve months' time and then they embraced and each knight set his lady on his horse behind him and gaily they set out on the triple quest, Sir Ewain to the west, Sir Marhalt south, and Gawain on the path that led northward.

  And first we will follow Sir Gawain as he rode gaily through the green forest with his lovely damsel panting behind him. Gawain chattered merrily to his companion.

  "How fortunate that you fell to me," he said. "If it had not been so, I would have contended for you. You do not answer. That is easily explained. You are very young and you had never the company of a gallant knight from the great world. You are blushing, I know, although I cannot see your face. Well, that is proper in so young a damsel. Perhaps your tongue is tied with confusion at the honor you have been paid--or maybe you were taught to keep silence when a knight speaks. That is the good old-fashioned way. Too seldom practiced now. You must not be afraid or too impressed with me. You will see that beneath my royal position and the aura of my knighthood I am as human as you are, a man, in fact, in spite of appearance. You are dazzled, my dear, and I can easily understand that."

  The damsel sat scowling behind him and she kicked her heels into the horse's flank so that he shied.

  "Perhaps some animal, or snake," said Gawain. "If you are frightened, put your arm about me. I will protect you from falling. You know, I like a girl who does not chatter all the time."

  "Is Sir Ewain your brother?" the damsel asked.

  "No, my cousin, and a very good boy. I can see that you would feel him too young and inexperienced to be interesting--and it is true that he is barely out of childhood, but when he has seen as much of the world as I have he will be a good knight. He comes of a noble line. But of course girls like an older man." The horse shied again. "I don't understand this," said Gawain. "He is a very steady mount. If you are fond of music I could sing to you. While I don't agree, I am said to have a fine voice. What song would you like to hear?"

  "I don't like singing," said the damsel. "Look, there is a pretty manor house ahead. I am thirsty, sir."

  "How like a girl," said Gawain. "Thirsty, hungry, cold, overheated, sad, happy, loving, hating--always something to draw attention. Well, perhaps that is why girls are attractive."

  An old knight sat near the path before the manor house and Gawain drew up.

  "Sir," he said, "God give you good fortune. Do you know of any adventures hereabouts, for a noble knight on quest?"

  "God grant you first if there is shortage," said the old knight courteously. "Adventures? Yes, more than you can shake a spear at, but the day is waning. What is adventure in the light is quite different at night. Alight, young sir, and stay the night. In the morning I will lead you to adventure."

  "We should go on," said Gawain. "It is proper that we should take our rest under the spreading branches of a tree."

  "Nonsense," said the damsel. "I am tired and thirsty."

  "She is very young," Gawain explained. "Very well, my dear. If you must."

  The damsel went into a little room and supped alone, and locked the door and did not answer Gawain's gentle knocking. And he returned to sit beside the fire with the old knight, to talk of horses and armor and whether a shield should be flat or duck-breasted to glance a spear aside. Thus they talked of their trade until sleep came.

  In the morning when they were mounted and armed, Sir Gawain said, "Now, sir. What adventure have you saved for me?"

  The old knight said, "Nearby there is a place which you will see--a cleared field in the forest, a stone cross, and turf level and firm, and on its verge a fountain of clear cold water. This place draws adventures as meat draws flies. I don't know what we will find, but if any wonder is about to happen, it will happen there."

  When they came to the clearing with its green velvet lawn, it was deserted, and the three dismounted and sat beside the ancient stone cross. And very soon they heard a voice crying out against outrageous fate and into the meadow rode a strong fair knight of noble stature, well armed and handsome. When he saw Sir Gawain he ceased his wailing and offered his salute and prayed God to send honor and repute to him.

  "Thank you," said Gawain. "And may he give you honor and fame also."

  "I must put such things aside, sir," said the knight. "For me there is nothing but sorrow and shame, as you will see." And he rode on to the farther side of the glade and sat his horse and waited. And he had not to wait long, for ten knights filed from the forest in a line. The first knight couched his spear and the sad knight met him mid-field and toppled him. Then one after another he met the other nine and with his one spear he unhorsed every one. When that was done he sat his horse with downcast eyes and the ten knights approached on foot and pulled him unresisting from his horse. They roped him hand and foot and slung him under his horse's belly and led the horse away with the sad knight swaying like a sack.

  Gawain watched in wonder. "What is this?" he asked. "He beat them all and then permitted them to take him."

  "That is true," said the old knight. "If he had wished he could have beaten them on foot as he did mounted."

  The damsel said shrilly, "It seems to me that you could help him if you are as great as you say. He is one of the best and handsomest knights I ever saw."

  "I would have helped if he wished. But it seemed to me he wanted what he got. It is not wise or courteous to interfere in other people's business unless you are asked."

  "I think you didn't want to help him," said the girl. "Perhaps you are jealous of him. It is possible that you are afraid."

  "You are a silly country girl," said Gawain. "I afraid? Let me tell you I am never afraid."

  And as they argued the old knight said, "Hush! The day is young, and more adventures are thronging. See, on the right hand of the meadow a knight all armed except his head."

  "I see him," the damsel said. "A handsome head, a manly face."

  As she spoke, another horseman entered the glade from the left, a dwarf in armor, and he too with bare head, a monster with shoulders wide as a door, a wide, thick frog's mouth, flat broad nose like an ape, and glittering eyes that sparkled like jet, an ugliness so perfect as to be beautiful. The dwarf called out to the waiting knight, "Where is the lady?"

  A handsome damsel stepped from the shelter of the trees, crying, "I am here."

  The knight said, "It is silly to argue and strive for her. Come, dwarf, and arm yourself to fight for her."

  The dwarf replied, "Gladly, if there were no other way. But there a good knight sits by the cross. Let him decide which of us shall have her."

  "I agree," said the knight. "If you will swear to abide by his decision."

  When they consulted Gawain he said, "There doesn't seem to be much choice. If you put it to me, I say let the lady decide who shall have her, and I will defend her choice."

  The lady did not hesitate. She went to the frog-faced dwarf and raised her arms to him, and he leaned from his saddle and plucked her from the ground and set her in front of him, and she embraced him and kissed him. The dwarf smiled wisely and bowed sati
rically to the company and rode away into the forest with the lady in his arms.

  The defeated knight came disconsolately and sat by the stone cross and all of them were unable to believe what they had seen. The old knight in disgust mounted his horse and rode away toward his manor.

  Now a strange knight, full armed, rode into the glade and he shouted, "Sir Gawain, I know you by your shield. Come joust with me for the honor of your knighthood." And when Gawain hesitated, his damsel said, "You had a reason to avoid the ten knights, what reason will you give to avoid this one who challenges you?"

  Gawain stood up angrily. "No reason. I accept." And he mounted and rode against the challenger, and both went down. Then ponderously they drew their swords and engaged on foot in slow, heavy combat, striking a few blows and then resting as though their hearts were not in it.

  Meanwhile, at the cross, the disappointed knight said to the damsel, "I cannot understand why she went with that dreadful dwarf."

  "Who knows what draws a maiden's heart?" she said. "A woman is not misled by the features of a man. She looks more deeply for her love."

  "You have no need," he replied. "Your love is as handsome as any I have seen." And he watched the two knights feinting and parrying on the lawn-like glade.

  "That proves what I said," the damsel remarked shyly. "He is not my love. I do not even like him. Your face may not have his arrogant perfection but to me it is more manly."

  "Do you mean that if you had a choice you would choose me?"

  "What have I said?" And the damsel blushed. "He is a boaster. He thinks he is better than anyone else. He believes a lady has only to look at him to love him. Such a man needs a lesson."

  The knight said eagerly, "While they are fighting, come ride away with me."

  "It would not be seemly," she said.

  "But you say you have no love for him."

  "That is true. I much prefer you."

  "I will care for you and give you all my heart."

  "He thinks of no one but himself."

  "Do you think he would follow us?"

  "I don't think he would dare. He is a fool."

  The two knights fought for a long time and the sun shone hotly down on their armor so that they dripped more sweat than blood, and at last the challenger stepped away and leaned on his sword and said, "For my part I think everything has been properly done and both of us have behaved worthily. If you have no particular savagery toward me, let us make peace. Understand, I do not beg for peace."

  "I understand," said Gawain. "There's no dishonor in mutual accord, and both of us have increased our honor. Agreed?"

  "Agreed," said the knight, and they removed their helmets and formally embraced, and they moved to the fountain and drank deeply and washed the stinging salt sweat from their eyes. Then Gawain looked about and asked, "Where is my damsel? I left her sitting by the cross."

  "Was she yours?" the other asked. "I saw her ride away behind that other knight. I thought she was his damsel."

  Now Gawain scowled a moment and then he laughed uneasily. "It may sound ungallant, but I'm glad she is gone. I drew her by lot, a silly country girl, pretty now, but the kind that runs to fat."

  "I didn't see her close up."

  "You didn't miss much," Gawain said. "She nearly drove me crazy with her rattling talk. I like a lady more mature, with some experience of the great world, not a stupid little country girl."

  "A chatterbox was she? I know the kind."

  "Never stopped," said Gawain. "And that poor fellow probably thinks he stole her from me. He will find out."

  "Well, I'm glad for you," said the knight. "I have a pleasant little estate and houses not far from here. Come lodge with me. Perhaps some farm girl will take your mind off your chatterbox."

  "Gladly," said Gawain. And as they rode toward the lodging he said, "If you live hereabouts, perhaps you can tell me what knight it is who could strike down ten men with a spear and then permit them to take him and bind him without a struggle."

  "I know him well," said the host. "And I know his story. Do you wish to hear it?"

  "I do," said Gawain. "My heart went out to him."

  "His name is Sir Pelleas," said the host. "He is one of the best knights in the world, I guess."

  "I could see that from his jousting--ten knights went down before one spear."

  "Oh, he has done more than that. When the lady Ettarde, who has great holdings and a castle near here, announced a three-day tournament, Sir Pelleas entered the fight, and although five hundred knights tried for the prize, he overturned everyone who came against him. The prize was a fine sword and a golden chaplet to give to the lady of his heart. There was no question who should have the prize, but when Sir Pelleas saw the lady Ettarde, he fell in love with her and he gave the chaplet to her and proclaimed her the fairest lady in the land, although there is some question about that, and he challenged anyone who should deny it to mortal combat. But this Ettarde is a curious vain and proud thing. She would have none of him. I will never understand women."

  "Nor I," said Gawain. "Only today a lady chose a dwarf with the face of a toad."

  "There you are," said the other. "In the castle there are many ladies much more beautiful than Ettarde and not one of them would have refused so handsome and well-made a knight as Pelleas, particularly after he demonstrated his prowess against five hundred knights for three days. But Sir Pelleas would not look at any other lady. He followed Ettarde moaning like a puppy, and the more he pleaded with her the more she disliked him and insulted him and tried to drive him away. I can't understand what he saw in her to love."

  "Who knows the mysteries of a man's heart?" said Gawain. "He must love her very deeply."

  "Well may you say so, sir. He has said that he will follow her to the end of the earth and give her no peace until she returns his love."

  "Sometimes that is the worst possible way," said Gawain. "It might be better to blow a kiss and ride away. Some ladies do not prize what they can have."

  "There is no doubt that she means it. She has tried every way to be rid of him. But he has taken up his quarters in a priory nearby her castle and rides back and forth under her window crying out his pain and pleading for her mercy until Ettarde, driven out of her mind, sends knights against him. Then he defeats them all on horse and afterward allows them to take him."

  "That's what he did today. Why is that?"

  "It is the only way he can see her. And though she insults him and dishonors him in every way, he only loves her more and begs to be her prisoner so he may see her. And so she has him thrown from the castle and again he rides under her window baying like a lovesick hound."

  "It is a shame to see a man sink so low," said Gawain.

  "Well," his host said, "he has worked it out that if he keeps at it long enough he will wear her down, but the only result is that her dislike for him has turned to bitter hatred. He has caused her so much trouble that she would adore the man who killed him--but she can find no knight able to defeat him on the field and none will kill him."

  "It is a pity," Gawain said. "Tomorrow I will search him out and try to help him."

  "You will fail," said the host. "He will not listen to reason."

  "Nonetheless you have given me an idea," said Gawain.

  In the morning Gawain asked his way to the priory where Sir Pelleas had his residence and he found that knight bruised and beaten.

  "How can you allow this without defending yourself?" asked Gawain.

  Sir Pelleas began, "I love a lady and she--"

  "I know the story," said Gawain. "But I do not understand why you allow her to trample on you."

  "Because I hope she will have pity on me at last. Love causes many a good knight to suffer before he is accepted. But, alas, I am unfortunate."

  Gawain said, "Among the ornaments of ladies, pity is a rarity."

  "If I can prove the depth of my love, she will relent."

  "Stop your mooning," Gawain said. "Your method is painful,
insulting, and ineffective. If you will give me leave, I have a plan to deliver the lady's heart into your hands."

  "Who are you?"

  "I am Sir Gawain of King Arthur's court, his sister's son. King Lot of Orkney was my father."

  "I am Sir Pelleas, Lord of the Isles. And I have never loved a lady or a damsel until now."

  "That is apparent," said Gawain. "You need the help of some good friend."

  "I will die if I do not see her. She insults me and curses me, but I can wish no more than to see her, even though she wishes me gone or dead."

  "If you can stop your moaning long enough to listen, I have a plan. She wishes you dead. Give me your armor. I will go to her and tell her I have killed you. This will bring sharply to her what she has lost, and when she mourns for you I will bring her to you and you will know her love."

  "Is that the way of it?" Pelleas asked.

  "I believe that ladies love best what they do not have," said Gawain.

  "You will be faithful to me? You will not act against me?"

  "Why should I?" said Sir Gawain. "I will return here within a day and a night. If I do not, you will know that something has gone amiss."

  On this agreement the two exchanged armor and shields, and they embraced, and then Gawain mounted and rode toward the castle of the lady Ettarde.

  Ladies' pavilions were set up in the grassy meadow without the gate, and Ettarde and her damsels played and danced and sang in the sweetness of field flowers.

  When Gawain, bearing Sir Pelleas's device on his shield, came in view, the ladies sprang up and fled toward the castle gate in fright and dismay. But Gawain called out that he was not Pelleas. "I am another knight," he cried. "I have killed Pelleas and taken his armor."

  Ettarde stopped warily. "Take off your helmet," she said. "Let me see your face."

  And when she saw that it was not Pelleas she begged him to dismount. "Have you really slain Pelleas?"

  "I have," said Gawain. "He was the best knight I ever met, but in the end I defeated him, and when he would not yield, I killed him. How else do you think I could have got his armor?"

  "That is true," Ettarde said. "He was a wonderful fighting man--but I hated him because I could not be rid of him. He cried and wept and moaned like a sick calf until I wished him dead. I like a man of decision. Since you have slain him for me, I shall grant you anything you wish." And Ettarde blushed when she said it.