by Howard Pyle
Then, when the hermit had heard all of her story, he said, “It is well and I will take him in.” So he took Sir Pellias into his cell, and when they had helped lay him upon the couch, Parcenet and the dwarf went their way homeward again.
After they had gone, the hermit examined the hurt of Sir Pellias, and Sir Pellias lay in a deep swoon. And the swoon was so deep that the hermit beheld that it was the death-swoon, and that the knight was nigh to his end. So he said, “This knight must assuredly die in a very little while, for I can do naught to save him.” Wherefore he immediately quitted the side of Sir Pellias and set about in haste to prepare the last sacrament such as might be administered unto a noble knight who was dying.
The Lady of the Lake cometh to Sir Pellias.
Now whiles the hermit was about this business the door opened of a and bedight around the arms with armlets of emeralds and opal stones inset into gold. And her hair, which was very soft, was entirely black and was tied about with a cord of crimson ribbon. And the hermit beheld that her face was like to ivory for whiteness and that her eyes were bright, like unto jewels set into ivory, wherefore he knew that she was no ordinary mortal.
And this lady went straight to Sir Pellias and leaned over him so that her breath touched his forehead. And she said, “Alas! Sir Pellias, that thou shouldst lie so.” “Lady,” said the hermit, “thou mayst well say ‘Alas,’ for this knight hath only a few minutes to live.” To this the lady said, “Not so, thou holy man, for I tell thee that this knight shall have a long while yet to live.” And when she had said this she stooped and took from about his neck that necklace of emeralds and opal stones and gold that encircled it and she hung it about her own neck.
Now when the hermit beheld what she did, he said, “Lady, what is this that thou doest, and why dost thou take that ornament from a dying man?”
But the lady made reply very tranquilly, “I gave it unto him, wherefore I do but take back again what is mine own. But now I prithee let me be with this knight for a little while, for I have great hope that I may bring back life unto him again.”
Then the hermit was a-doubt and he said, “Wilt thou endeavor to heal him by magic?” And the lady said, “If I do, it will not be by magic that is black.”
So the hermit was satisfied and went away, and left the lady alone with Sir Pellias.
The Lady of the Lake healeth Sir Pellias.
Now when the lady was thus alone with the wounded knight she immediately set about doing sundry very strange things. For first she brought forth a loadstone of great power and potency and this she set to the wound. And, lo! the iron of the spear-head came forth from the wound; and as it came Sir Pellias groaned with great passion. And when the spear-point came forth there burst out a great issue of blood like to a fountain of crimson. But the lady immediately pressed a fragrant napkin of fine cambric linen to the wound and stanched the blood, and it bled no more, for she held it within the veins by very potent spells of magic. So, the blood being stanched in this wise, the lady brought forth from her bosom a small crystal phial filled with an elixir of blue color and of a very singular fragrance. And she poured some of this elixir between the cold and leaden lips of the knight; and when the elixir touched his lips the life began to enter into his body once more; for, in a little while, he opened his eyes and gazed about him with a very strange look, and the first thing that he beheld was that lady clad in green who stood beside him, and she was so beautiful that he thought that haply he had died and was in Paradise, wherefore he said, “Am I then dead?”
“Nay, thou art not dead,” said the lady, “yet hast thou been parlously nigh to death.” “Where then am I?” said Sir Pellias. And she replied, “Thou art in a deep part of the forest, and this is the cell of a saint-like hermit of the forest.” At this Sir Pellias said, “Who is it that hath brought me back to life?” Upon this the lady smiled and said, “It was I.”
Now for a little while Sir Pellias lay very silent, then by and by he spake and said, “Lady, I feel very strangely.” “Yea,” said the lady, “that is because thou hast now a different life.” Then Sir Pellias said, “How is it with me?” And the lady said, “It is thus: that to bring thee back to life I gave thee to drink of a certain draught of an elixir vitæ so that thou art now only half as thou wert before; for if by the one half thou art mortal, by the other half thou art fay.”
Sir Pellias loveth the Lady of the Lake.
Then Sir Pellias looked up and beheld that the lady had about her neck the collar of emeralds and opal stones and gold which he had aforetime worn. And, lo! his heart went out to her with exceeding ardor, and he said, “Lady, thou sayest that I am half fay, and I do perceive that thou art altogether fay. Now, I pray thee to let it be that henceforth I may abide nigh unto where thou art.” And the lady said, “It shall be as thou dost ask, for it was to that end I have suffered thee nearly to die, and then have brought thee back unto life again.”
Then Sir Pellias said, “When may I go with thee?” And she said, “In a little when thou hast had to drink.” “How may that be?” said Sir Pellias, “seeing that I am but yet like unto a little child for weakness.” To the which the lady made reply, “When thou hast drunk of water thy strength shall return unto thee, and thou shalt be altogether well and whole again.”
So the Lady of the Lake went out, and presently returned, bearing in her hand an earthen crock filled with water from the fountain near at hand. And when Sir Pellias had drunk that water he felt, of a sudden, his strength come altogether back to him.
Yet he was not at all as he had been before, for now his body felt as light as air, and his soul was dilated with a pure joy such as he had never felt in his life before that time. Wherefore he immediately uprose from his couch of pain, and he said, “Thou hast given life unto me again, now do I give that life unto thee forever.”
Then the lady looked upon him and smiled with great loving-kindness. And she said, “Sir Pellias, I have held thee in tender regard ever since I beheld thee one day in thy young knighthood drink a draught of milk at a cottager’s hut in this forest. For the day was warm and thou hadst set aside thy helmet, and a young milkmaid, brown of face and with bare feet, came and brought thee a bowl of milk, which same thou didst drink of with great appetite. That was the first time that I beheld thee — although thou didst not see me. Since that time I have had great friendship for all thy fellowship of King Arthur’s Court and for King Arthur himself, all for thy sake.”
Then Sir Pellias said, “Lady, wilt thou accept me for thy knight?” and she said, “Aye.” Then Sir Pellias said, “May I salute thee?” And she said, “Yea, if it pleasures thee.” So Sir Pellias kissed her upon the lips, and so their troth was plighted.
Now return we unto Parcenet and the dwarf:
Parcenet bringeth news of Sir Pellias to Sir Mador de la Porte.
After those two had left that hermitage in the woodland, they betook their way again toward Grantmesnle, and when they had come nigh out of the forest at a place not far from the glade of trees wherein those knights-companion had taken up their inn, they met one of those knights clad in half-armor, and that knight was Sir Mador de la Porte. Then Parcenet called upon him by name, saying, “Alas! Sir Mador, I have but this short time quitted a hermit’s cell in the forest where I left Sir Pellias sorely wounded to death, so I fear me he hath only a little while to live.”
Then Sir Mador de la Porte cried out, “Ha! maiden, what is this thou tellest me? That is a very hard thing to believe; for when Sir Pellias quitted us this morn he gave no sign of wound or disease of any sort.”
But Parcenet replied, “Ne’theless, I myself beheld him lying in great pain and dole, and, ere he swooned his death-swoon, he himself told me that he had the iron of a spear in his side.”
Then Sir Mador de la Porte said, “Alas! alas! that is sorry news! Now, damsel, by thy leave and grace, I will leave thee and hasten to my companions to tell them this news.” And Parcenet said, “I prithee do so.”
S
o Sir Mador de la Porte made haste to the pavilion where were his companions, and he told them the news that he had heard.
Now at this time Sir Gawaine was altogether recovered from the violent overthrow he had suffered that morning, wherefore when he heard the news that Sir Mador de la Porte brought to him, he smote his hands together and cried out aloud, “Woe is me! what have I done! For first I betrayed my friend, and now I have slain him. Now I will go forth straightway to find him and to crave his forgiveness ere he die.”
But Sir Ewaine said, “What is this that thou wouldst do? Thou art not yet fit to undertake any journey.”
Sir Gawaine departeth to find Sir Pellias.
Sir Gawaine said, “I care not, for I am determined to go and find my friend.” Nor would he suffer any of his companions to accompany him; but when he had summoned his esquire to bring him his horse, he mounted thereon and rode away into the forest alone, betaking his way to the westward, and lamenting with great sorrow as he journeyed forward.
Now when the afternoon had fallen very late, so that the sun was sloping to its setting, and the light fell as red as fire through the forest leaves, Sir Gawaine came to that hermit’s cell where it stood in the silent and solitary part of the forest woodland. And he beheld that the hermit was outside of his cell digging in a little garden of lentils. So when the hermit saw the armed knight come into that lawn all in the red light of the setting sun, he stopped digging and leaned upon his trowel. Then Sir Gawaine drew nigh, and, as he sat upon his horse, he told the holy man of the business whereon he had come.
To this the hermit said, “There came a lady hither several hours ago, and she was clad all in green, and was of a very singular appearance, so that it was easy to see that she was fay. And by means of certain charms of magic that lady cured thy friend, and after she had healed him, the two rode away into the forest together.”
Then Sir Gawaine was very much amazed, and he said, “This is a very strange thing that thou tellest me, that a knight who is dying should be brought back to life again in so short a time, and should so suddenly ride forth from a bed of pain. Now, I prithee tell me whither they went.” The hermit said, “They went to the westward.” Whereupon, when Sir Gawaine heard this, he said, “I will follow them.”
Sir Gawaine follows a singular light.
So he rode away and left the hermit gazing after him. And as he rode forward upon his way, the twilight began to fall apace, so that the woodlands after a while grew very dark and strange all around him. But as the darkness descended a very singular miracle happened, for, lo! there appeared before Sir Gawaine, a light of a pale blue color, and it went before him and showed him the way, and he followed it, much marvelling.
Now after he had followed the light for a very long time he came at last, of a sudden, to where the woodland ceased, and where there was a wide, open plain of very great extent. And this plain was all illuminated by a singular radiance which was like that of a clear full moonlight, albeit no moon was shining at that time. And in that pale and silver light Sir Gawaine could see everything with wonderful distinctness; wherefore he beheld that he was in a plain covered all over with flowers of divers sorts, the odors whereof so filled the night that it appeared to press upon the bosom with a great pleasure. And he beheld that in front of him lay a great lake, very wide and still. And all those things appeared so strange in that light that Sir Gawaine wotted that he had come into a land of faëry. So he rode among tall flowers toward that lake in a sort of fear, for he wist not what was to befall him.
Now as he drew near the lake he perceived a knight and a lady approaching him; and when they had come nigh he beheld that the knight was Sir Pellias, and that his countenance was exceedingly strange. And he beheld that the lady was she whom he had aforetime seen all clad in green apparel when he had travelled in the Forest of Adventure with Sir Ewaine and Sir Marhaus.
Sir Gawaine findeth Sir Pellias.
Now when Sir Gawaine first beheld Sir Pellias he was filled with a great fear, for he thought it was a spirit that he saw. But when he perceived that Sir Pellias was alive, there came into his bosom a joy as great as that fear had been; wherefore he made haste toward Sir Pellias. And when he had come near to Sir Pellias, he leaped from off of his horse, crying out, “Forgive! Forgive!” with great vehemence of passion. Then he would have taken Sir Pellias into his arms, but Sir Pellias withdrew himself from the contact of Sir Gawaine, though not with any violence of anger. And Sir Pellias spake in a voice very thin and of a silvery clearness as though it came from a considerable distance, and he said, “Touch me not, for I am not as I was aforetime, being not all human, but part fay. But concerning my forgiveness: I do forgive thee whatsoever injury I may have suffered at thy hands. And more than this I give unto thee my love, and I greatly hope for thy joy and happiness. But now I go away to leave thee, dear friend, and haply I shall not behold thee again, wherefore I do leave this with thee as my last behest; to wit, that thou dost go back to King Arthur’s Court and make thy peace with the Queen. So thou mayst bring them news of all that hath happened unto me.”
Then Sir Gawaine cried out in great sorrow, “Whither wouldst thou go?”
And Sir Pellias said, “I shall go to yonder wonderful city of gold and azure which lieth in yonder valley of flowers.”
Then Sir Gawaine said, “I see no city but only a lake of water.”
Whereupon Sir Pellias replied, “Ne’theless, there is a city yonder and thither I go, wherefore I do now bid thee farewell.”
Then Sir Gawaine looked into the face of Sir Pellias and beheld again that strange light that it was of a very singular appearance, for, lo! it was white like to ivory and his eyes shone like jewels set in ivory, and a smile lay upon his lips and grew neither more nor less, but always remained the same. (For those who were of that sort had always that singular appearance and smiled in that manner — to wit, the Lady of the Lake, and Sir Pellias, and Sir Launcelot of the Lake.)
Sir Pellias disappeareth into the lake.
Then Sir Pellias and the Lady of the Lake turned and left Sir Gawaine where he stood, and they went toward the lake, and they entered the lake, and when the feet of the horse of Sir Pellias had touched the water of the lake, lo! Sir Pellias was gone and Sir Gawaine beheld him no more, although he stood there for a long time weeping with great passion.
So endeth the story of Sir Pellias.
But Sir Gawaine returned unto the Court of King Arthur as he had promised Sir Pellias to do, and he made his peace with Queen Guinevere and, thereafter, though the Queen loved him not, yet there was a peace betwixt them. And Sir Gawaine published these things to the Court of King Arthur and all men marvelled at what he told.
And only twice thereafter was Sir Pellias ever seen of any of his aforetime companions.
And Sir Marhaus was made a Companion of the Round Table and became one of the foremost knights thereof.
And the Lady Ettard took Sir Engamore into favor again, and that summer they were wedded and Sir Engamore became lord of Grantmesnle.
So endeth this story.
PART III. The Story of Sir Gawaine
HERE FOLLOWETH THE story of Sir Gawaine and of how he discovered such wonderful faithfulness unto King Arthur, who was his lord, that I do not believe that the like of such faithfulness was ever seen before.
For indeed, though Sir Gawaine was at times very rough and harsh in his manner, and though he was always so plain-spoken that his words hid the gentle nature that lay within him, yet, under this pride of manner, was much courtesy; and at times he was so urbane of manner and so soft of speech that he was called by many the Knight of the Silver Tongue.
So here ye shall read how his faithfulness unto King Arthur brought him such high reward that almost anyone in all the world might envy him his great good fortune.
Chapter First.
HOW A WHITE Hart Appeared Before King Arthur, and How Sir Gawaine and Gaheris, His Brother, Went in Pursuit Thereof, and of What Befell Them in That Quest.
UPON a certain time King Arthur, together with Queen Guinevere and all of his Court, were making progression through that part of his kingdom which was not very near to Camelot. At this time the King journeyed in very great state, and Queen Guinevere had her Court about her, so there were many esquires and pages; wherefore, what with knights, lords, and ladies in attendance, more than six score of people were with the King and Queen.
Now it chanced that at this time the season of the year was very warm, so that when the middle of the day had come the King commanded that a number of pavilions should be spread for their accommodation, wherein that they might rest there until the heat of the day had passed. So the attendants spread three pavilions in a pleasant glade upon the outskirts of the forest.
When this had been done, the King gave command that the tables, whereat they were to eat their mid-day meal, should be spread beneath the shadow of that glade of trees; for there was a gentle wind blowing and there were many birds singing, so that it was very pleasant to sit in the open air.
Accordingly the attendants of the Court did as the King commanded, and the tables were set upon the grass beneath the shade, and the King and Queen and all the lords and ladies of their Courts sat down to that cheerful repast.
A white hart and a white hound appear before King Arthur at feast.
Now whiles they sat there feasting with great content of spirit, and with much mirth and goodly talk among themselves, there came of a sudden a great outcry from the woodland that was near by, and therewith there burst forth from the cover of that leafy wilderness a very beautiful white hart pursued by a white brachet of equal beauty. And there was not a hair upon either of these animals that was not as white as milk, and each wore about its neck a collar of gold very beautiful to behold.
The hound pursued the white hart with a very great outcry and bellowing, and the hart fled in the utmost terror. In this wise they ran thrice around the table where King Arthur and his Court sat at meat, and twice in that chase the hound caught the hart and pinched it on its haunch, and therewith the hart leaped away, and all they who sat there observed that there was blood at two places upon its haunch where the hound had pinched it. But each time the hart escaped from the hound, and the hound followed after it with much outcry of yelling so that King Arthur and Queen Guinevere and all their Court were annoyed at the noise and tumult that those two creatures made. Then the hart fled away into the forest again by another path, and the hound pursued it and both were gone, and the baying of the hound sounded more and more distant as it ran away into the woodland.