Sir Thomas Malory's Morte Darthur. Sir Thomas Malory
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“So he chose her for his sovereign lady, never to love any other but her. But she was so proud that she scorned him, and said she would never love him, even if he died for her. Because of this all the ladies and gentlewomen scorned her for being so proud, for there were some who were fairer than she, and any one of them there would have returned Sir Pelleas’ love gladly if he had offered it to them.
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“So this knight promised to follow Ettard into this country and never to leave her until she loved him, and thus he stays most of the time in a priory which is near to her. And every week she sends knights to fight with him. When he has defeated them, he allows them to take him prisoner, for he wishes to have a sight of his lady. And always she does him great wrong—sometimes she makes her knights tie him to his horse’s tail, and sometimes she makes them bind him under the belly of the horse. Thus, in the most shameful way she can conceive, he is brought to her, and she does all this to cause him to leave this land and leave his loving. But all of this cannot make him leave. If he would fight on foot, he would defeat the ten knights just as he did on horseback.”
“Alas!” said Sir Gawain, “that is a great pity for him! After tonight, I will seek him tomorrow in the forest and help him in any way that I can.”
So in the morning Sir Gawain took his leave of his host, Sir Carados, and rode into the forest. Finally, he met with Sir Pelleas, and found him moaning greatly. Each of them greeted the other, and Gawain asked why he made such sorrow.
And as it was described above, so Sir Pelleas told Sir Gawain. “But always I allow her knights to do with me as you saw yesterday, hoping at last to win her love. She well knows that no knight could easily defeat me if I fought to the fullest of my ability. And if I did not love her so much, I would rather die a hundred times than suffer the shame of being defeated; but I believe that in the end she will have pity on me, for love causes many a good knight to suffer in order to have his desire. But alas, I am unfortunate!” And then he made such sorrow he could barely stay in the saddle.
“Now,” said Sir Gawain, “stop your mourning, and I shall promise you, by the faith of my body, that I will do all that is in my power to get you the love of your lady, and to that end, I pledge my word.”
“Ah,” said Sir Pelleas, “from what court are you?”
“Sir, I am of the court of King Arthur; I am his sister’s son, and King Lot of Orkney was my father, and my name is Sir Gawain.”
“And my name is Sir Pelleas, born in the Isles, and I am lord of many isles. I never loved a lady or damsel until now. And sir knight, since you are so closely related to King Arthur and are a king’s son, betray me not, but help me, for I may never get her love except through the help of some good knight. She is in a strong castle nearby, within four miles, and she is lady over all this country. I would never be able to come into her presence unless I allowed her knights to take me, and unless I did so in order to see her, I would have died long before now. Yet, I have never had a kind word from her—when I am brought before her she rebukes me in the foulest manner. Then they take my horse and my armor and push me out of the gates, and she will allow me neither food nor drink. Always I offer to be her prisoner, but she will not allow that. I would desire nothing more, no matter what I might suffer, if I could just see her every day.”
“Well,” said Sir Gawain, “I shall amend this situation. Do as I suggest: I will take your armor and ride to 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