her castle and tell her that I have slain you, and then she will cherish me. Once I am in her good graces, I will do my best to get the love of her for you.” Then Sir Gawain pledged his word to Sir Pelleas, swearing to be true and faithful to him. Each pledged loyalty to the other, and so they exchanged horses and armor.
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Sir Gawain departed and went to the castle, where there were pavilions set up outside the gate. As soon as Ettard saw Sir Gawain, she fled toward the castle, but Sir Gawain called out loudly and bade her wait, for he was not Sir Pelleas. “I am another knight who has slain Sir Pelleas.”
“Then take off your helmet,” said the Lady Ettard, “so I may see your face.” When she saw that he was not Sir Pelleas, she had him dismount and led him into the castle.
She asked him if he had really slain Sir Pelleas, and he said yes. Then he told her his name was Sir Gawain, and that he was from the court of King Arthur and was the king’s sister’s son, and that he had slain Sir Pelleas.
“Truly,” she said, “that is a great pity, for he was a very accomplished knight. But of all men alive, I hated him most, for I could never be free of him. Because you have slain him, I will be your woman and do anything that will please you.” So she showed Gawain much hospitality. Gawain then said that he loved a lady who would not love him back.
“She is to blame,” said Ettard, “for not loving you, for you are a well-born man of great prowess, and there is no lady in the world who is too good for you.”
“Will you,” said Sir Gawain, “promise me to do whatever you can, by the faith of your body, to help me get the love of my lady?”
“Yes, sir, I promise you, by my faith.”
“Now,” said Sir Gawain, “it is you that I love so well; therefore, fulfill your promise.”
“I may not choose to say no,” said the Lady Ettard, “for then I would be forsworn.” And she then agreed to grant him his every desire.
It was the month of May, and she and Sir Gawain went out of the castle and ate in one of the pavilions, wherein was made a bed. There, Sir Gawain and Ettard went to bed together. In another pavilion she placed her damsels, and in a third, a portion of her knights, for she had no fear of Sir Pelleas. Sir Gawain slept with her in her pavilion two days and two nights.
On the third day, early in the morning, Sir Pelleas armed himself; he had not slept since Sir Gawain had promised by the faith of his body to come to him at his pavilion within the space of a day and a night. Sir Pelleas mounted on horseback and came to the pavilions that were set up outside the castle.
In the first pavilion he found three knights in three beds, with three squires lying at their feet. Then he went to the second pavilion and found four gentlewomen lying in four beds. Then he went to the third pavilion and found Sir Gawain lying in bed with his lady Ettard, each embracing the other. When he saw that, his heart almost burst for sorrow, and he said, “Alas that ever a knight should be found to be so false!”
Then he took his horse—for he could stay there no longer, due to his sorrow—and when he had ridden half a mile he stopped and turned, thinking that he might slay them both. When he again saw them both lying asleep together, he could not stay on his horse for sorrow, and he said to himself, “No matter how false this knight is, I will never slay him while he sleeps, for I will never dishonor the high Order of Knighthood.” And with that, he departed again.
Before he had ridden half a mile, he turned back again, thinking to slay them both and making the greatest sorrow that ever a man had made. When he came to the pavilions, he tied his horse to a tree, drew his sword, and went with the naked blade in his hand to where they were lying. Still, he thought it would be a great shame to slay them, so he laid the naked sword across their throats, took his horse, and rode away.
When Sir Pelleas came to his pavilions, he told his knights and squires what had happened, and said to them, “For the good and true service you have done for me, I shall give you all my goods, for I am going to my bed and will never arise again until I am dead. When I am dead, I charge you to take the heart out of my body and bear it between two silver dishes to the Lady Ettard; tell her I saw her lie with that false knight Sir Gawain.” Then Pelleas unarmed and went to his bed, making great dole and sorrow.
Then Sir Gawain and Ettard awoke from their sleep and found the naked sword across their throats. She recognized it as the sword of Sir Pelleas.
“Alas!” she said. “Sir Gawain, you have betrayed Pelleas and me; if he had been as discourteous to you as you have been to him, you would be a dead knight. You have deceived me, and all ladies and damsels should beware and learn a lesson from what has happened with you and me.” At this, Sir Gawain made himself ready and went into the forest.
It so happened that the Damsel of the Lake, Nyneve, met a knight of Sir Pelleas who was traveling on foot in the forest, making great dole. She asked him why, and the woeful knight told her all about how his master and lord was betrayed by a knight and a lady, and how he had taken to his bed, intending to die.
“Take me to him,” she said immediately, “and I will save his life. He shall not die for love, and she who has caused him to love to the point of death will be put in the same evil situation as he before long. It is not right that such a proud lady would have no mercy on such a valiant knight.”
Then that knight brought her to Sir Pelleas, and when she saw him lying there she thought that she had never seen such a handsome man. She threw an enchantment on him so that he fell asleep. Then she rode to see the Lady Ettard, ordering that no man should awaken him until she returned. Within two hours, she brought the Lady Ettard thither, and both ladies found Pelleas asleep.
“Lo,” said the Damsel of the Lake, “you ought to be ashamed for murdering such a knight.” At that, she threw an enchantment on Ettard so that she loved him so much she was almost out of her mind.
“Ah, Lord Jesus!” said the Lady Ettard. “How has it happened that I now love him whom I hated most of any man alive?”
“That is the righteous judgment of God,” said the damsel.
Then Sir Pelleas awoke and looked on Ettard; when he saw her, he recognized her, and he hated her more than any woman living, saying, “Away, traitoress, and come never in my sight!” When she heard him say this, she wept and made great sorrow as if she were out of her mind.
“Sir knight, Pelleas,” said the Damsel of the Lake, “take your horse and go immediately out of this country, and you shall love a lady who will love you in return.”
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“I will gladly,” said Sir Pelleas, “for this lady Ettard has done me great wrong and shame.” Then he told her everything from beginning to end, and how he had intended never to rise from his bed again until he was dead. “And now God has sent me such grace that I hate her as much as I have loved her.”
“You have me to thank for that,” said Nyneve.
Then Sir Pelleas armed himself and got his horse, commanding his men to follow, bringing his pavilions and his goods in such manner as the Damsel of the Lake assigned them. So this lady Ettard died of sorrow, and the Damsel of the Lake rejoiced in Sir Pelleas’ company, and they loved each other all their lives.
14 The Adventure of Sir Marhalt
Now we turn to Sir Marhalt, who rode south with the thirty-year-old damsel. They came to a deep forest, and by fortune they were still traveling when it became night, and they rode far along a dark path. Finally they came to a yard, and there they asked for lodging. But the man of the yard would not lodge them for any sum; instead, he said, “If you will undertake the adventure of your lodging, I will bring you someplace where you may stay tonight.”
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“What adventure is that which I must do for my lodging?” said Sir Marhalt.
“You shall find out when you come there,” said the good man.