Then they went to embrace one another. They began to unlace their helmets, coifs, and ventails and to pull off the chain-mail. Afterwards they returned rejoicing to the camp. And squires who had been posted on a hill observed their mutual delight and came running to the king.
‘My lord, my lord!’ they exclaimed. ‘In faith my lord Gawain is bringing the knight here, and each is delighted to be with the other.’
All who heard the news came out from their tents and went to greet them, and Kay said to the king, his lord: ‘Your nephew, my lord Gawain, has won honour and glory. The fight was tough and frightfully dangerous, yet he’s returning just as bold and hardy as when he left, and I’m not lying when I say that he didn’t strike a single blow or feel a blow from anyone. He won’t say a word to deny it. How right for him to have the praise and glory and for everyone to claim that he did what neither of us was able to accomplish, even though we gave our best efforts!’
So Kay spoke his mind, just as he always did, whether right or wrong. And my lord Gawain did not wish to bring his companion fully armed to court, but disarmed: he had him disarmed in his own tent, and one of his chamberlains brought Perceval a robe from his trunk which he presented to him to wear. When he had donned the cloak and mantle, which suited him perfectly, the two of them came hand in hand to the king who was seated in front of his tent.
‘Sire,’ said my lord Gawain to the king, ‘I bring you, I believe, the knight you’ve been eager to see these past two weeks.20 He’s the one you spoke so much about and the one you came to find. Here he is: I present him to you.’
‘Dear nephew, my thanks to you,’ said the king, so pleased to see Perceval that he leapt to his feet to greet him, saying: ‘Good sir, be most welcome! I beg you to inform me by what name I should address you.’
‘By my faith, I’ll not hide it from you, noble king,’ said Perceval. ‘I am called Perceval the Welshman.’
‘Ah, Perceval, my dear friend, now that you’ve come to my court, I don’t want you ever to leave. I have been very upset on your account because I didn’t know when first I saw you the success that God had destined for you. Yet it was accurately predicted, so that all the court knew of it, by the maiden and the jester whom the seneschal Kay struck. You have perfectly fulfilled their prophecies in every respect, let there be no doubt of this, for I have heard true reports of your deeds of chivalry.’
As he was speaking the queen entered, having heard news of the knight who had arrived. As soon as Perceval saw her and was told that it was she, and saw she was followed by the maiden who had laughed when she beheld him, he went up to them at once and said: ‘May God give joy and honour to the most beautiful and best of all the ladies in the world, as all who see her or who have ever seen her bear witness.’
And the queen responded: ‘And we are glad to have found you to be a knight whose noble prowess and good deeds are well attested!’
Then Perceval greeted the damsel, the one who had laughed, and said as he embraced her: ‘My beauty, if ever you’re in need, I shall be the knight who will never fail to come to your aid.’ And the maiden thanked him.
Great was the joy that the king, the queen, and all the barons made over Perceval the Welshman, as they returned with him that night to Caerleon. And all night they revelled, and the whole of the next day, until on the third day they saw a damsel approaching on a tawny mule, holding a whip in her right hand. The damsel had her hair twisted into two tight black braids and, if the words given in the book are true, there was never a creature so ugly even in the bowels of Hell. You’ve never seen iron as black as her neck and hands, and this was nothing compared to the rest of her ugliness. Her eyes were two holes, as tiny as a rat’s eyes; she had a nose like a monkey’s or a cat’s, and the lips of an ass or an ox. Her teeth were the colour of egg yolk, flecked with red, and she had the beard of a goat. She had a hump in the middle of her chest, her backbone was twisted, and her hips and shoulders were well made for dancing; she was humpbacked and had legs twisted like two willow wands: just perfect for leading the dance!
The damsel drove her mule right up before the king: such a damsel had never before been seen at the court of any king. She greeted the king and all the assembled barons except Perceval alone, to whom she spoke from her tawny mule: ‘Ah, Perceval! Fortune is bald behind and hairy in front.21 Cursed be anyone who’d greet you or who’d wish you well, for you didn’t catch hold of Fortune when you met her! You entered the castle of the Fisher King and saw the bleeding lance, but it was so much effort for you to open your mouth and speak that you couldn’t ask why that drop of blood flowed from the tip of the white shaft! And you didn’t ask or inquire what rich man was served from the grail you saw. Wretched is the man who sees that the propitious hour has come but waits for a still better one. And you are that wretched man, for you saw that it was the time and place to speak yet kept your silence! You had plenty of time to ask! Cursed be the hour you kept silent since, if you had asked, the rich king who is suffering so would already be healed of his wound and would be ruling in peace over the land he shall now never again command. And do you know the consequence of the king not ruling and not being healed of his wounds? Ladies will lose their husbands, lands will be laid waste, and maidens will remain helpless as orphans; many a knight will die. All these troubles will occur because of you.’
Then the damsel addressed the king: ‘King, do not be offended if I leave, for tonight I must find lodgings far from here. I don’t know whether you’ve heard tell of the Proud Castle, but that’s where I must go tonight. In that castle there are five hundred and sixty-six worthy knights, and you may know for certain that there’s not one who lacks the company of his sweetheart, a fair and courtly noble lady. I tell you all this because no one going there will fail to find a just or contest: anyone wishing to perform deeds of chivalry will find opportunities there for the asking. And should anyone wish to be esteemed the best knight in all the world, I believe I know the exact spot, the very piece of earth, where he could best win that honour if he were bold enough to attempt it. There is a damsel besieged on the peak below Montesclere. Whoever can lift the siege and free the maiden will win great glory: if God grants him good fortune, he will garner all the praise and be able to gird on without fear the Sword with the Strange Straps.’ Then the damsel, having said all she was pleased to say, ceased speaking and left without another word.
My lord Gawain leapt up and said that he would go and do all in his power to free the maiden. And Girflet, son of Do, said in turn that if God would grant him aid he would go to the Proud Castle.
‘And I’ll not stop,’ said Kahedin, ‘until I’ve reached the top of Mount Perilous.’
But Perceval swore a different oath, saying that he would not spend two nights in the same lodgings as long as he lived, nor hear word of any dangerous passage that he would not go to cross, nor learn of a knight of pre-eminent repute, or even two, that he would not test himself against, until he had learned who was served from the grail and had found the bleeding lance and been told the true reason why it bled. He would not abandon his quest for any hardship.
Thus as many as fifty knights stood up and swore and affirmed before one another that they would undertake whatever battle or adventure they learned about, no matter how fearful the land it was in.
And as they were making ready and arming themselves throughout the hall, Guinganbresil strode through the entry-way to the great hall, carrying a shield with an azure bend upon a field or. The bend covered precisely a third of the shield. Guinganbresil recognized the king and greeted him as was proper, but instead of greeting Gawain he accused him of felony, saying: ‘Gawain, you killed my lord, and you struck him without issuing a challenge. For this you are disgraced and shamed, and I accuse you of treason. May all the barons acknowledge that I’ve spoken nothing but the truth.’
On hearing these words, my lord Gawain, covered with shame, leapt to his feet, but his brother, Agravain the Haughty, sprang forth and restrained
him: ‘For the love of God, good sir,’ he said, ‘do not disgrace your lineage. I swear to defend you myself against the shame and outrage of which this knight accuses you.’
Gawain replied: ‘Brother, no man but myself must come to my defence: I alone must defend myself, since he accuses only me. And if I had known of any wrong I had committed against this knight, I would gladly have sued for peace and offered such amends as all his friends and mine would have acknowledged satisfactory. But since he has uttered this outrage, I accept his challenge and will defend myself here or there, anywhere he pleases.’
Guinganbresil said he would prove the foul and wicked treason at the end of forty days before the king of Escavalon, in his opinion more handsome than Absalom.
‘And I swear to you,’ said Gawain, ‘that I’ll follow after you at once and there we shall see who’s right.’
Guinganbresil set off immediately and my lord Gawain made preparations to follow without delay. Anyone who had a good shield and good lance, a good helmet and good sword, offered them to him but he refused to wear anything that was not his own. With him he took seven squires, seven warhorses, and two shields. Before he left the court there was much grieving for him: many a breast was beaten, many a hair torn out, and many a face scratched; even the most sensible of the ladies showed their sorrow for him. Many men and women wept for him, but my lord Gawain set off. You will hear me tell at length of the adventures with which he met.
First of all he saw a troop of knights cross a clearing, and he asked a squire who had a shield hanging at his neck and who was coming along alone after them leading a Spanish warhorse: ‘Squire, tell me, who are these knights passing here?’
And he replied: ‘Sir, it is Meliant de Liz, a bold and hardy knight.’
‘Are you his squire?’
‘No, sir, I’m not. My lord is called Traet d’Anez, and he’s every bit as worthy.’
‘Upon my word,’ said my lord Gawain, ‘I know Traet d’Anez well. Where is he going? Hide nothing from me.’
‘Sir, he is going to a tournament in which Meliant de Liz has challenged Tiebaut of Tintagel, and I suggest that you join him against his adversaries.’
‘Heavens,’ said my lord Gawain then, ‘wasn’t Meliant de Liz raised in Tiebaut’s manor?’
‘Yes, sir, so help me God. His father dearly loved Tiebaut as his liegeman and trusted him so much that as he lay upon his deathbed he commended his young son to him. And Tiebaut raised and watched over him as dearly as he could, until he began to seek the love of one of his daughters; and she said she would never grant him her love until he had become a knight. And so with high hopes he had himself knighted and returned to renew his suit. “By my faith,” said the maiden, “you cannot have my love until you’ve jousted and performed enough feats of arms in my presence to earn my love, for things which are had for nothing are not nearly so sweet and delightful as those for which one pays dearly. Challenge my father to a tourney if you want to have my love, for I want to know without a doubt that my love would be well placed if it were placed in you.”
‘So he has undertaken the tournament just as she proposed, because love has such mastery over those in its service that they would never dare refuse anything it might command of them. You’d be making a great mistake not to side with those in the castle, for they’ll have real need of your support if you’re willing to help them.’
‘Friend,’ said Gawain, ‘be on your way, you’d do well to follow your lord and stop saying these things.’
The squire left at once, and my lord Gawain rode on his way: he headed directly for Tintagel, as there was no other route. Tiebaut had assembled all his family and his cousins and had summoned all his neighbours, and they had all come – high and low, young and old. But Tiebaut had found no one among his privy council who favoured war against his lord, for they were all very afraid that Meliant was out to destroy them completely. So he had had all the entries to the castle walled up and filled: the gates were solidly blocked and there was no gatekeeper other than heavy rocks in mortar, and everything had been walled in except a small postern gate whose door was impregnable. The door, built to last for ever, was of copper and locked by a bar: there was enough iron in that door to load down a heavy cart.
My lord Gawain, preceded by all his equipage, came to this door; he had to pass through the castle or turn back, since there was no other path or road for seven long leagues around. When he saw the postern closed, he rode out on to a clearing below the keep, which was enclosed by a palisade, and dismounted beneath an oak tree from which he hung his shields. Those in the castle saw this, and many there were saddened that the tournament had been delayed. But in the castle there was an old vavasour – very wise and respected, powerful because of his lands and lineage – and whatever advice he gave, no matter how it worked out in the end, was always followed by those in the castle. He had seen Gawain and his men approaching, for they had been pointed out to him at a distance, before they had entered the fenced clearing.
He went to speak with Tiebaut and said: ‘Sir, so help me God, I believe I’ve seen two knights coming this way, who are companions to King Arthur. Two brave knights are valuable to us, for either one of them could win a tourney. I would advise you for my part to enter confidently into this tournament, for you have good knights, good men-at-arms, and good archers who’ll kill their horses, and I am certain that they’ll come to do battle before this gate. If their pride leads them here, the victory will be ours, and theirs the loss and suffering.’
Upon the advice of his aged counsellor, Tiebaut gave all his men permission to arm themselves and sally forth if they so desired. The knights were heartened by this; squires ran to fetch armour and to saddle and lead out the horses. The ladies and maidens went to sit in the highest places to observe the tournament, and below them in the plain they saw my lord Gawain’s equipment: and they thought at first that there were two knights, because they saw the two shields hanging from the oak tree. And when they had taken their places, the ladies said they were fortunate because they could watch these two knights arming in front of them. Thus they talked among themselves, and there were several who said: ‘Dear God, this knight has so much equipment and so many horses that there’s more than enough for two, yet he has no companion with him. What will he do with two shields? No knight’s ever been seen to carry two shields at the same time, so it would be most surprising if this one knight were to carry both these shields.’
While the ladies were conversing the knights rode out, and Tiebaut’s elder daughter, who was the cause of the tournament, had climbed to the top of the tower. With her was her younger sister, who dressed herself in such elegant sleeves that she was called The Maiden with the Small Sleeves, and this name was embroidered along her sleeves. With Tiebaut’s two daughters, all the ladies and maidens had climbed to the top of the towers, and the tournament was just now assembling in front of the castle.
But there was no knight as handsome as Meliant de Liz, according to his sweetheart’s words to the ladies all around her: ‘My ladies, truly no knight I’ve ever seen has pleased me more than Meliant de Liz – why should I he to you about this? Is it not a comfort and delight to behold such a splendid knight? So handsome a knight cannot help but sit well in his saddle and wield his lance and shield with the best.’
But her sister, who was seated beside her, said that there was a more handsome knight. Her elder sister became angry and rose to strike her; but the ladies pulled her away and restrained her and kept her from hitting her sister, which made her most upset.
Then the tournament began, where many a lance was broken, many a sword blow landed, and many a knight struck down. You can be sure that those who jousted with Meliant de Liz paid dearly, for every knight who faced his lance was thrown to the hard earth; and if his lance shattered, he paid out heavily with his sword, and he did better than any other knight on either side. And his sweetheart was so delighted that she could not refrain from saying: ‘My ladies, his deeds
are wondrous to behold! You’ve never seen or heard tell of any to equal them! Behold the best young knight you’ve ever laid eyes upon, for he is more handsome and a better fighter than anyone else at the tournament.’
Her little sister countered: ‘I see a more handsome and better knight, I think.’
Her sister, enflamed with anger, rushed upon her and said furiously: ‘You brat! How could you be so impertinent to dare criticize anyone whom I had praised? Let this blow teach you to keep silent in the future!’
Then she slapped her so hard that her fingers left their stamp upon her face, and the ladies who were there rebuked her strongly and pulled her away. Afterwards they too spoke of my lord Gawain among themselves. ‘Heavens,’ said one of the damsels, ‘what’s keeping that knight under the hornbeam22 from putting on his armour?’
Another, more unrestrained, answered: ‘He’s sworn not to participate.’
And a third added afterwards: ‘He’s a merchant, don’t say any more about his participating in the tournament: he’s brought all those horses to sell.’
‘No, he’s a money-changer,’ said the fourth. ‘He doesn’t have any intention of sharing those goods he’s brought with him among the poor knights today. Don’t think I’m lying to you: it’s money and dishes he’s got in those chests and trunks.’
‘To be sure, you’ve got wicked tongues,’ said the younger sister, ‘and you’re all wrong. Do you think a merchant would carry as heavy a lance as he has? Indeed you make me die with shame by saying such evil things. By the faith I owe the Holy Spirit, he seems more like a champion than a merchant or money-changer: he’s a knight, and looks the part!’
And unanimously all the ladies replied: ‘Dear friend, though he may seem to be a knight, he isn’t; and he only pretends to be so he can avoid taxes and customs duties. He’s a fool, though he thinks himself so clever, because he’ll be caught for this like a thief and convicted of base and stupid larceny. He’ll soon have a rope around his neck!’
Arthurian Romances Page 61