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20 Sir Gawain’s Adventures

Now we turn to Arthur and his noble knights who entered Lorraine and then went through Flanders. He seized all the lordships, and afterwards he moved into Germany and Lombardy the rich. There he made laws that lasted long after. Then he went into Tuscany, and destroyed the tyrants there; there were keen fighting men who knew of Arthur’s coming, and in narrow passes slew many of his people, and there they provisioned themselves from many good towns.

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But there was one city that maintained a strong defense against Arthur and his knights, which angered Arthur so that he said aloud, “I will win this town even if many a doughty man shall die!” Then the king approached the walls without a shield, wearing only little armor.

“Sir,” said Sir Florence, “what you do is folly, to stand unprotected so near to this perilous city.”

“If you are afraid,” said King Arthur, “I advise you to flee quickly. They will not win worship from me, but only waste their weapons; for it shall never come to pass that a rebel should have the opportunity, by the help of our Lord, to kill a crowned king who has been anointed with chrism.”

Then the noble knights of the Round Table approached the city, leaving their horses behind. They hurled themselves straight onto the barbicans, and there they slew down all who stood before them; in that conflict they won the bridge. Had there been no garrison, they would have fought through the gates and won the city through the strength of their hands that day.

Then our noble knights withdrew a little and went to the king, asking him to make camp. He pitched his cloth pavilions, setting them all about the siege, and had siege engines quickly set up. Then the king called Sir Florence to him and said these words: “My people are growing weak for lack of food, but nearby there are fair forests, which may feed our many footmen. You shall go to forage in those forests, and with you shall go Sir Gawain, and Sir Wishard with Sir Walchere, both worshipful knights, along with all the wisest men of the West Marches, and also, Sir Clermont and Sir Cliges, who performed well in arms, and the captain of Cardiff, who is a good knight. Now go and tell the fellowship so that all is done as I command.” So with that, Sir Florence went forth and his fellowship was soon ready. They rode over holt and heath, through forests and over hills. They came to a low meadow that was full of sweet flowers, and there these noble knights tethered their horses.

At the dawning of the next day, Sir Gawain took his horse and went to seek some wonders. He became aware of a man walking some distance away along the wood’s edge, by the side of a river; he bore his shield on his shoulder and rode on a strong horse, alone but for a boy who accompanied him, bearing a grim spear. On his glistening gold shield were three griffins worked in sable and precious stones, the main griffin in silver.

When Sir Gawain became aware of that gay knight, he gripped his spear and rode straight toward him on his strong horse, wishing to meet with that stern knight where he waited. When Sir Gawain came close to him, he asked him in English who he was. That other knight answered in the language of Tuscany, saying, “Where are you going, plunderer, who demands such a thing of me? I will not be your prey, try as you like; you shall be my prisoner, for all your proud demeanor.”

“You speak proudly,” said Sir Gawain, “but I warn you—for all your grim words, you should take care, before harm befalls you.” Then they used their lances according to the craft of arms, and came quickly at each other, delivering strong blows, breaking through shield and mail. Each was wounded in the shoulder a full hand’s breadth.

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Then they were both so angry, that neither would turn from the battle, but instead they quickly drew out their swords and struck each other’s helms with hateful blows; each stabbed at the other’s stomach with their steely swords. Fiercely those men fought on the ground while sparks flew from their helmets.

Then Sir Gawain was seriously wounded, and swung his sword Galantine, striking grimly and cleaving the knight’s shield in two. He pierced the thick hauberk, made of good mail, splitting apart the rich rubies, so that men could see his liver and lungs. The knight groaned at his grim wounds and faced Sir Gawain, striking him awkwardly and breaking the armor on both his forearm and upper arm; the blow cut open a vein, which sorely grieved Gawain. He was so seriously wounded that he almost lost his wits, and his armor was all bloody.

Then that knight spoke to Gawain, and bade him bind up his wound before he died, “for you are bleeding all over your horse and your bright clothes; all the surgeons of Britain will not be able to staunch your blood, for he who is hurt with this blade shall bleed forever.”

“By God,” said Sir Gawain, “that troubles me but little. You shall not frighten me with all your great words. You think with your talking to tame my heart, but bad tidings will befall you before you leave here unless you quickly tell me who may staunch my bleeding.”

“I can do that, and I will, so long as you succor me so that I might be christened and be cleansed of my misdeeds. I ask Jesus’ mercy; I shall become Christian and steadfastly believe in God. For your help you may earn a reward for yourself.”

“I grant you your request,” said Gawain, “so help me God. I will fulfill your desire; you have greatly deserved it. Tell me the truth—what were you seeking here, all alone, and what lord or legate do you serve?”

“Sir,” he said, “I am called Priamus, and my father is a prince. He has been rebel to Rome and overridden much of their lands. My father is descended from Alexander, who was overlord of kings, and he is descended also from Hector in a straight line. There are many more of my kindred, such as Judas Maccabee and Duke Joshua. I am heir to Alexander’s lands, Africa, and all the Outer Isles. Yet, I will believe in the Lord in whom you believe, and consider your labor treasure enough. I was so haughty in my heart that I believed no man my equal. I was sent to this war, by consent of my father, with seven score knights; and now I have encountered with one who has given me my fill of fighting. Therefore, sir knight, for your king’s sake, tell me your name.”

“Sir,” said Sir Gawain, “I am no knight, but have been brought up in the household of noble King Arthur for many years; my task is to care for his armor and his wardrobe, and to care for the clothing that belongs to him, as well as clean the doublets for dukes and earls. At Yuletide he made me a yeoman and gave me good gifts—more than a hundred pounds, along with a horse and rich armor. If I have the benefit of serving my liege lord long, it shall go well for me.”

“Ah,” said Sir Priamus, “if his knaves are so keen, his knights must be splendid indeed! Now for love of the King of Heaven and for love of your king, whether you are knave or knight, tell me your name.”

“By God,” said Sir Gawain, “now I will tell you the truth. My name is Sir Gawain. I am well known in his court, allowed into his chambers, and one of the best of the Round Table. I was dubbed a duke by his own hands. Therefore do not begrudge me, good sir, if this good fortune has befallen me. It is the goodness of God that has given me my strength.”

“Now I am better pleased,” said Sir Priamus, “than if you had given me the province of Persia the rich, for I would rather have been torn apart by four wild horses than that a yeoman should have so defeated me, or else that any other page or servant should have defeated me in the field. But now I warn you, sir knight of the Round Table, the Duke of Lorraine is nearby with his knights, and the doughtiest men of the dauphin’s lands along with many Dutchmen, along with many lords of Lombardy, the defending force of Goddard, and men of Westwall, worshipful kings, and of Soissons and from the southlands Saracens in great number; in their rolls are named sixty thousand strong men of arms. Therefore, unless you hurry from this heath, it will be harm to us both, and we will be so sorely injured that it will be unlikely that we will ever recover. Take heed that the servant does not blow his horn, for if he does you will find yourself hewn to pieces. Here are waiting close by a hundred good knights of my retinue who wait upon me. If you are found by that company, they will ask neither ransom nor gold.”

Then Sir Gawain rode over the water with the worshipful knight following him, and they rode until they came to his companions who were grazing their horses in a low meadow; many lords there were leaning on their shields, laughing and joking with many loud words.

As soon as Sir Wishard became aware of Sir Gawain and saw that he was hurt, he went toward him weeping and wringing his hands. Then Sir Gawain told him how he had fought with a mighty man of strength. “Therefore, do not grieve good sir, for though my shield is now shattered and my shoulder injured, this knight Sir Priamus has more serious wounds. But, he says he has a salve that will heal us both. There is new business at hand that is nearer than you think, and by an hour after noon I think it will harm us all.”

Then Sir Priamus and Sir Gawain both dismounted and let their horses graze in the fair meadow. They allowed their armor and their shields to be removed. Both bled so much that every man there wondered at how they were able to sit in their saddles or stand on the earth.

“Now fetch me,” said Sir Priamus, “my vial that hangs by the girdle of my servant, for it is full of the power of the four good waters that pass through Paradise, that strong fruit that one day shall feed us all. Put that water on our flesh wherever we are wounded, and we shall be healed within four hours.” Then they had their wounds cleansed with cold white wine and anointed with balm over and over; within an hour’s time, there were no healthier men than they to be found since God had made the world.

When they were cleansed and whole, the barrels were tapped and they had bread and meat and many rich birds. When they had eaten, Sir Gawain said, “Lordings, to arms!” When they were armed and assembled, called together to council by a clear clarion call, Sir Gawain explained the situation. “Now tell us, Sir Priamus, the purpose of yonder group of knights.”

“Sirs,” said Sir Priamus, “they have made a vow to rescue me or else to die manfully in the trying. This was the original purpose when I left them—to save me upon pain of their lives.”

“Now, good men,” said Sir Gawain, “gird up your hearts! If we go away empty-handed it will grieve our king. During this fight, Sir Florence shall stay here and stand firm as a noble knight, for he was chosen and charged with this duty by the king himself in his chamber. Whether he fights or flees—we shall follow after. As for me, I shall never forsake yonder fair folk.”

“Ah, father!” said Florence, “you speak fair words, but I am just a child compared to tried men-at-arms, and if I do any folly, the fight must be yours. Therefore, do not sacrifice your honor. My wits are simple, and you are our true leader; therefore, do as you think best.”

“Now fair lords,” said Sir Priamus, “cease your words at once, I warn you. You shall find in yonder woods many perilous knights who exceed your numbers, you who do not have more than seven hundred warriors in this place. By my faith, that is few to fight against so many, for servants and pages will little help us—they will hide in haste, despite their lofty words.”

“You say well, “ said Sir Gawain, “so help me God! Now fair son,” said Sir Gawain to Sir Florence, “will you take your fellowship of the best proven men, to the number of a hundred knights, and nobly prove yourself by defeating yonder prey?”

“I assent to do that willingly,” said Florence. Then Sir Florence called to him Sir Floridas with five score knights, and they went forth at a fast trot, driving quickly. Then Sir Florence followed after with seven hundred noble men of arms, and he was intercepted by Sir Ferrante of Spain, who rode a fair steed that had been fostered in Famagosta; the devil was his father.

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He hurried toward Sir Florence and said, “Where are you hurrying, false knight?” This made Sir Florence angry, and he took up his spear and rode toward the company, waiting no longer. Full in the forehead he hit Sir Ferrante, breaking his neck-bone.

Then Ferrante’s cousin cried aloud, “You have slain a knight and anointed king who, before this time, had never encountered a warrior who was able to harm him. Therefore, you shall die, and none of your men will escape!”

“Fie on you,” said Floridas, “you heretical wretch!” And with that he swung at him with his sword so that all the flesh on his flank was flayed off and the man’s bowels and entrails fell to the earth. Then a man rode up quickly to rescue that baron who was born in Rhodes and rebel to Christ. He pressed in proudly, chasing after his prey. But Richard of the Round Table rode up against him on his strong steed and thrust through his shield all the way to his heart. He roared loudly, but never rose again. Then all his fellows—more than five hundred—fell upon Sir Florence and his five score knights. Sir Florence and Sir Floridas took up their spears and felled five men at the front of the first charge. Sorely they assailed our folk, breaking bows and breasts, bringing down many.

When Sir Priamus, the hostage knight, perceived their actions, he went to Sir Gawain and said these words: “These noble men are hard beset, for they are overwhelmed with more than five hundred Saracens. Now, for the love of God, would you allow me, along with a small group of my men, to help them somewhat?”

“Sir, do not begrudge it,” said Sir Gawain. “The victory is theirs, for they have great gifts which have been granted by my lord. Therefore, let them fight as long as they wish, these fresh knights—some of them have not fought their fill all these past five winters. Therefore I will not move from my position half a horse-length unless I see that they are attacked by a greater force than that which they can counter.” At that moment, Sir Gawain became aware that men were coming along the edge of the wood with all manner of weapons; there rode the Earl of Ethelwold with many thousands behind him. The duke of the Dutchmen followed after him, passing with Priamus’ knights.

Then Gawain, that good knight, encouraged his knights, saying: “Grieve not, good men, at yonder great sight; do not be abashed by yonder boys in their bright trappings. If we fight with faith, the field will be ours!”

Then they took up their reins and began to gallop, and as they got close they knocked down many noble knights. There has never been a jollier jousting on earth. Then the rich men of the Round Table ran through the thickest of the press with their strong spears, so that many a man was injured as a result of their prowess. The knaves fled the field, and only knights who were keen of heart were willing to fight. “By God,” said Sir Gawain, “this gladdens my heart, that yonder fellows are gone, for they were great in number. Now they are fewer in the field than at first, when they numbered twenty thousand.”

Then Jubeaunce of Genoa, a mighty giant, cast his spear at Sir Gerard, a good Welsh knight. He struck the Welsh knight straight to the heart. Then our knights mightily attacked their mid-guard, and in one skirmish many Saracens were destroyed, and the sovereigns of Soissons were saved forever.

By that time Sir Priamus, the good prince, rode to his pennant accompanied by royal lords. He quickly took it up, and rode with the royal company of the Round Table out of the wood, followed by his retinue. They followed behind him like sheep from the fold, going straight to the field to stand by their kind lord. Then they sent these words to the duke: “Sir, we have been your hired soldiers these past seven winters, and now we forsake you for the love of our liege lord, King Arthur. With our honor, we may go where we like, for neither reward nor gold have we received.”

“Fie on you! The devil take your bones! I care little for such soldiers!” Then the duke turned his Dutchmen on Sir Gawain and Sir Priamus. The two of them gripped their spears and went at them by the most direct route. There Sir Priamus met with the Marquess of Moses’ land and smote him clean through. Then Chastelain, a child of King Arthur’s chamber—he was a ward of Sir Gawain—he came at Sir Cheldrake, who was a noble chieftain; with his spear he smote him clean through. So that child achieved the advantage in the contest of arms. But then he was chased down, with nowhere to escape, and one of the enemy smote him through the neck. When Sir Gawain saw that, he wept with all his heart and felt as if inwardly he would burst for sorrow. When Gotlake, a good man of arms, saw the death of Chastelain the child, his mood changed and wet water ran down his cheeks.

Then Sir Gawain prepared himself and rode at a duke; Sir Dauphin the duke drove hard against him. But Sir Gawain came at him with a great spear and drove the head into his heart. He pulled it out and ran to another man, Sir Hardolf, a hardy man of arms, and slyly he slipped in the spear and Hardolf fell to the earth. That day he slew in the valley more than sixty men at arms with his own hands.

Then Sir Gawain saw the man that had slain Chastelain, his child, and swiftly with his sword ran him through. “If you had escaped without wounds, the shame would have been ours!” After that Sir Gawain turned back to the battle, rushing at the enemy, and rode straight through to the rearguard, clearing a path all the way. Sir Priamus came riding next, making his way. There they hewed and hurled and brought down many heathen knights; on the other side of the battle, Sir Florence did what he could. The lords of Lorraine and Lombardy were captured and led away by our noble knights. Such an advantage our lords achieved through chance in that war, and their reputations were raised forever after.

When Sir Florence and Sir Gawain had won the field, they sent ahead of them five score knights with their enemies and prisoners following after. Sir Gawain waited until the prisoners were through a narrow pass, of which he had great dread. So they rode until they saw the city, and that same day they captured it by assault. Sir Florence and Sir Gawain harbored their people there, and after went to the king’s tent to tell this tale truly, how they had fared that day, and how his fierce men had done. “And many of your enemies lost their lives, and many noble prisoners have yielded themselves into our hands. But Chastelain, my ward, had his head chopped off this day; yet before he died, he slew an important knight with his own hands.”

“Now thanks be to God!” said the noble king. “But I marvel at that excellent knight who stands beside you; he seems a stranger, but seems not to be a prisoner.”

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“Sir,” said Sir Gawain, “this is a good man of arms. He contested against me in the morning, and if it had not been for his help, I would have died. Now he has yielded himself to God and to me, sir king, to become a Christian in good faith. Once he is baptized into the true faith, there will not be a better nor nobler knight alive.”

So the king quickly had him christened and confirmed him as Priamus, the name he bore before, and with his own hands dubbed him a duke and made him a knight of the Round Table.