Lady of the Lake
How the Lady of the Lake
took back her necklace from Sir Pellias.
One morning, Sir Gawaine summoned
his esquire unto him and said, "Fetch hither my armor and
case me in it." And the esquire did so. Then Sir Gawaine
said, "Help me unto my horse," and the esquire did so.
And the morning was still very early, with the grass all
lustrous and sparkling with dew, and the little birds singing
with such vehemence that it might have caused anyone great joy
to be alive. Wherefore, when Sir Gawaine was seated a-horseback
and in armor, he began to take more courage unto himself, and
the dark vapors that had whilom overshadowed him lifted
themselves a little. So he bespoke his esquire with stronger
voice, saying, "Take this glove of mine and bear it to Sir
Pellias and tell him that Sir Gawaine parades in the meadow in
front of the castle and that he there challenges Sir Pellias for
to meet him a-horse or afoot, howsoever that knight may
choose."
At these that esquire was very much
astonished, for Sir Gawaine and Sir Pellias had always been such
close friends that there was hardly their like for friendship in
all that land, wherefore their love for one another had become a
byword with all men. But he held his peace concerning his
thoughts and only said, "Wilt thou not eat food ere thou
goest to battle?" And Sir Gawaine said, "Nay, I will
not eat until I have fought. Where-fore do thou go and do as I
have bid thee."
So Sir Gawaine's esquire went to Sir
Pellias in his pavilion and he gave unto that knight the glove
of Sir Gawaine, and he delivered Sir Gawaine's message to him.
And Sir Pellias said, "Tell thy master that I will come
forth to meet him as soon as I have broken my fast."
Now, when the news of that challenge had
come to the ears of Sir Brandiles and Sir Mador de la Porte and
Sir Ewaine and Sir Marhaus, those knights were greatly disturbed
thereat, and Sir Ewaine said to the others, "Messires, let
us go and make inquiries concerning this business." So the
four knights went to the white pavilion where Sir Pellias was
breaking his fast.
And when they had come into the presence
of Sir Pellias, Sir Ewaine said to him, "What is this
quarrel betwixt my kinsman and thee?" And Sir Pellias made
reply, "I will not tell thee, so, let be and meddle not
with it."
Then Sir Ewaine said, "Wouldst thou
do serious battle with thy friend?" To which Sir Pellias
said, "He is a friend to me no longer."
Then Sir Brandiles cried out, "It is
a great pity that a quarrel should lie betwixt such friends as
thou and Sir Gawaine. Wilt thou not let us make peace betwixt
you?" But Sir Pellias replied, "Ye cannot make peace,
for this quarrel cannot be stayed until it is ended."
Then those knights saw that their words
could be of no avail and they went away and left Sir Pellias.
So when Sir Pellias had broken his fast he
summoned an esquire named Montenoir, and he bade him case him in
that red armor that he had worn for all this time, and Montenoir
did so. Then, when Sir Pellias was clad in that armor, he rode
forth into the meadow before the castle where Sir Gawaine
paraded. And when he had come thither those four other knights
came to him again and besought him that he would let peace be
made betwixt him and Sir Gawaine, but Sir Pellias would not
listen to them, and so they went away again and left him, and he
rode forth into the field before the castle of Grantmesnle.
Now a great concourse of people had come
down upon the castle walls for to behold that assault-at-arms,
for news thereof had gone all about that place. And it had also
come to be known that the knight that would do combat with Sir
Pellias was that very famous royal knight hight Sir Gawaine, the
son of King Lot of Orkney, and a nephew of King Arthur;
wherefore all the people were very desirous to behold so famous
a knight do battle.
Likewise the Lady Ettard came down to the
walls and took her stand in a lesser tower that overlooked the
field of battle. And when she had taken her stand at that place
she beheld that Sir Pellias wore that necklace of emeralds and
opal stones and gold above his body armor, and her heart went
out to him because of it, wherefore she hoped that he might be
the victor in that encounter.
Then each knight took his station in such
place as seemed to him to be fitting, and they dressed each his
spear and his shield and made him ready for the assault. Then,
when they were in all ways prepared, Sir Marhaus gave the signal
for the assault. Thereupon each knight instantly quitted that
station which he held, dashing against the other with the speed
of lightning, and with such fury that the earth thundered and
shook beneath their horses' hoofs. So they met fairly in the
centre of the course, each knight striking the other in the very
midst of his defences. And in that encounter the spear of Sir
Gawaine burst even to the hand-guard, but the spear of Sir
Pellias held, so that Sir Gawaine was cast out of his saddle
with terrible violence, smiting the earth with such force that
he rolled thrice over in the dust and then lay altogether
motionless as though bereft of life.
Sir Pellias and Sir Gawaine do battle
At this, all those people upon the walls
shouted with a great voice, for it was an exceedingly noble
assault-at-arms.
Then the four knights who stood watching
that encounter made all haste unto Sir Gawaine where he lay; and
Sir Pellias also rode back and sat his horse nigh at hand. Then
Sir Ewaine and Sir Gawaine's esquire unlaced the helmet of Sir
Gawaine with all speed, and, behold ! his face was the color of
ashes and they could not see that he breathed.
Thereupon Sir Marhaus said, "I
believe that thou hast slain this knight, Sir Pellias," and
Sir Pellias said, "Dost thou think so?"
"Yea," quoth Sir Marhaus, "and I deem it a great
pity." Unto which Sir Pellias made reply, "He hath not
suffered more than he deserved."
At these words Sir Ewaine was filled with
great indignation, wherefore he cried out, "Sir Knight, I
think that thou forgettest the quality of this knight. For not
only is he a fellow-companion of the Round Table, to whom thou
hast vowed entire brotherhood, but he is also the son of a king
and the nephew of King Arthur himself."
But to this Sir Pellias maintained a very
steadfast countenance and replied, "I would not repent me
of this were that knight a king in his own right instead of the
son of a king."
Then Sir Ewaine lifted up his voice with
great indignation, crying out upon Sir Pellias, "Begone I
or a great ill may befall thee." "Well," said Sir
Pellias, "I will go."
Upon this he turned his horse and rode
away from that place and entered the woodland and so was gone
from their sight.
Sir Pellias departs into the forest.
Then those others present lifted up Sir
Gawaine and bare him away unto the pavilion late of Sir Pellias,
and there they laid him upon the couch of Sir Pellias. But it
was above an hour ere he recovered himself again; and for a
great part of that while those nigh unto him believed him to
have been dead.
Sir Pellias is more wounded.
But not one of those knights knew what was
the case; to wit, that Sir Pellias had been so sorely wounded in
the side in that encounter that it was not to be hoped that he
could live for more than that day. For, though the spear of Sir
Gawaine had burst, and though Sir Pellias had overthrown him
entirely, yet the head of Sir Gawaine's spear had pierced the
armor of Sir Pellias, and had entered his side and had there
broken off, so that of the iron of the spear, the length of the
breadth of a palm had remained in the body of Sir Pellias a
little above the midriff. Wherefore, while Sir Pellias sat there
talking so steadfastly unto those four knights, he was yet
whiles in a great passion of pain, and the blood ran down into
his armor in abundance. So, what with the loss of the blood, and
of the great agony which he suffered, the brain of Sir Pellias
swam as light as a feather all the time that he held talk with
those others. But he said not a word unto them concerning the
grievous sound he had received, but rode away very proudly into
the forest.
But when he had come into the forest he
could not forbear him any longer, but fell to groaning very
sorely, crying out, "Alas! alas! I have certes got my
death-wound in this battle!"
Now it chanced that morn that the damsel
Parcenet had ridden forth to fly a young gerfalcon, and a dwarf
belonging to the Lady Ettard had ridden with her for company.
So, as the damsel and the dwarf rode through a certain part of
the forest skirt, not a very great distance from Grantmesnle,
where the thicker part of the woodland began and the thinner
part thereof ceased, the damsel heard a voice in the woodlands,
lamenting with very great dolor. So she stopped and harkened,
and by and by she heard that voice again making a great moan.
Then Parcenet said to the dwarf, "What is that I hear?
Certes, it is the voice of someone in lamentation. Now let us go
and see who it is that maketh such woful moan." And the
dwarf said, "It shall be as thou sayest."
How Parcenet findeth Sir Pellias
wounded in the forest
So the damsel and the dwarf went a little
way farther and there they beheld a knight sitting upon a black
horse beneath an oak-tree. And that knight was clad altogether
in red armor, wherefore, Parcenet knew that it must be Sir
Pellias. And she saw that Sir Pellias leaned with the butt of
his spear upon the ground and so upheld himself upon his horse
from which he would otherwise have fallen because of his great
weakness, and all the while he made that great moan that
Parcenet had heard. So, seeing him in this sorry condition,
Parcenet was overcome with great pity, and she made haste to him
crying out, "Alas! Sir Pellias, what ails thee?"
Then Sir Pellias looked at her as though
she were a great way removed from him, and, because of the
faintness of his soul, he beheld her, as it were, through thin
water. And he said, very faintly, "Maiden, I am sore
hurt." Thereupon she said, "How art thou hurt, Sir
Pellias?" And he replied, "I have a grievous wound in
my side, for a spear's point standeth therein nigh a palm's
breadth deep so that it reaches nearly to my heart, wherefore,
meseems that I shall not live for very long."
Upon this the maiden cried out,
"Alas! alas! what is this!" and she made great lament
and smote her hands together with sorrow that that noble knight
should have come to so grievous an extremity.
Then the dwarf that was with Parcenet,
seeing how greatly she was distracted by sorrow, said,
"Damsel, I know of a certain place in this forest (albeit
it is a considerable distance from this) where there dwelleth a
certain very holy hermit who is an extraordinarily skilful
leech. Now, an we may bring this knight unto the chapel where
that hermit dwelleth, I believe that he may be greatly holpen
unto health and ease again."
Upon this Parcenet said, "Gansaret"
- for Gansaret was the dwarf's name- "Gansaret, let us take
this knight unto that place as quickly as we are able. For I
tell thee sooth when I say that I have a very great deal of love
for him." "Well," said the dwarf, "I will
show thee where that chapel is."
So the dwarf took the horse of Sir Pellias
by the bridle-rein and led the way through that forest, and
Parcenet rode beside Sir Pellias and upheld him upon his saddle.
For some whiles Sir Pellias fainted with sickness and with pain
so that he would else have fallen had she not upheld him. Thus
they went forward very sorrowfully and at so slow a pace that it
was noontide ere they came to that certain very dense and lonely
part of the forest where the hermit abided.
And when they had come unto that place the
dwarf said, "Yonder, damsel, is the chapel whereof I spake."
Then Parcenet lifted up her eyes and she
beheld where was a little woodland chapel built in among the
leafy trees of the forest. And around this chapel was a little
open lawn bedight with flowers, and nigh to the door of the
hermitage was a fountain of water as clear as crystal. And this
was a very secret and lonely place and withal very silent and
peaceful, for in front of the chapel they beheld a wild doe and
her fawn browsing upon the tender grass and herbs without any
fear of harm. And when the dwarf and the maiden and the wounded
knight drew nigh, the doe and the fawn looked up with great wide
eyes and spread their large ears with wonder, yet fled not,
fearing no harm, but by and by began their browsing again.
Likewise all about the chapel in the branches of the trees were
great quantities of birds, singing and chirping very cheerfully.
And those birds were waiting for their mid-day meal that the
hermit was used to cast unto them.
(Now this was that same forest sanctuary
whereunto King Arthur had come that time when he had been so
sorely wounded by Sir Pellinore as hath been aforetold in this
history.)
As the maiden and the dwarf and the
wounded knight drew nigh to this chapel, a little bell began
ringing very sweetly so that the sound thereof echoed all
through those quiet woodlands, for it was now the hour of noon.
And Sir Pellias heard that bell as it were a great way off, and
first he said, "Whither am I come?" and then he made
shift to cross himself. And Parcenet crossed herself and the
dwarf kneeled down and crossed himself. Then when the bell had
ceased ringing, the dwarf cried out in a loud voice, "What
ho! what ho! here is one needing help!"
Parcenet and the dwarf bring Sir
Pellias to the hermit of the forest
Then the door of the sanctuary was opened
and there came forth from that place a very venerable man with a
long white beard as it were of finely carded wool. And, lo! as
he came forth, all those birds that waited there flew about him
in great quantities, for they thought that he had come forth for
to feed them; where-fore the hermit was compelled to brush those
small fowls away with his hands as he came unto where the three
were stationed.
And when he had come unto them he demanded
of them who they were and why they had come thither with that
wounded knight. So Parcenet told him how it was with them, and
of how they had found Sir Pellias so sorely wounded in the
forest that morning and had brought him hither-ward.
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.
Now whiles the hermit was about this
business the door opened of a sudden and there came into that
place a very strange lady clad all in green 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.
The Lady of the Lake cometh to Sir
Pellias
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, where-fore 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 heals 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 vita 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 falls in love with 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 feit 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.
Parcenet bringeth news of Sir Pellias
to Sir Mador de la Porte
Now return we unto Parcenet and the dwarf:
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."
So Sir Mador de la Porte made haste to the
pavilion where were his companions, and he told them the news
that he had heard.
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