  ARGUMENTBook XI. tells how Gawain would brave the venture of the ChÂteau Marveil, and how the boatman and his daughter strove to withhold him. How Gawain came to the Castle, and of the Lit Merveil and its perils. How Gawain slew the lion, and ended the enchantments of the castle, and how he was healed of his wounds by the Queen ArnivÉ. BOOK XI ARNIVE Weary he closed his eyelids, and he slept in a slumber deep Till the light of the early morning must waken him from his sleep. And many a window saw he within that chamber wall, And clear glass was before each window—Thro' a doorway the light did fall, 'Twas open, without was an orchard, thither gat him the gallant knight 5 For the air, and the song-birds' music, and to see what might meet his sight And but little space had he sat there, when the castle he saw again As at eventide he saw it when he fought on the grassy plain. And he saw from the hall of the palace full many a maiden gaze, And many were fair to look on; and he thought, with a great amaze, 10 That a wondrous watch they must keep there, since they wearied not thro' the night, And little might they have slumbered, for as yet scarce had dawned the light. Then he thought, 'For the sake of these ladies will I lay me to sleep once more.' Then again to his couch he gat him, and for covering he drew him o'er The mantle the maid had lent him—Did no man his slumber break? 15 Nay, sorely the host had vexed him, if one should his guest awake. Then of true heart bethought the maiden, who soft by her mother lay, And she roused her from out her slumber, and she took to the guest her way, And again he slept so sweetly—Then she thought her, that gentle maid, That fain would she do him service, and she sat her beside his bed, 20 Fair was she, and sweet to look on, and but seldom at eventide, Or in hour of the early dawning, such venture has sought my side! Short space ere Gawain awakened and beheld how she watched him there, That thou breakest for me thy slumber, on thyself dost thou vengeance take, 25 Since nor service nor joust so knightly have I ridden for thy sweet sake!' And she answered, that gracious maiden, 'On thy service no claim have I, But look thou with favour on me, and thy will do I willingly, And all who are with my father, yea, mother alike and child, Do hail thee their lord and master, for love of thy dealings mild!' 30 Then he quoth, 'Is it long since thou camest? Had I of thy coming known Fain would I have asked a question, perchance thou the truth hadst shown: Yestreen and again this morning fair ladies have looked on me From a mighty tower, of thy goodness now tell me who may they be?' But the maiden she shrunk in terror, and she cried, 'Ask me not, Sir Knight, 35 Since ne'er may I give an answer—I prithee to hear aright, If I knew, yet I might not tell thee, nor do thou my silence chide, But ask thou what else shall please thee and my lips naught from thee shall hide, But on this thing alone keep silence, and follow thou what I say!' But Gawain, he would ever ask her, and ever an answer pray, 40 What ladies were they who sat there, and looked from that stately hall? And the maiden she wept full sorely, and aloud in her grief did call. 'Twas yet in the early dawning, and her father he sought her side, Nor I deem me had he been wrathful if here did such chance betide That Gawain with the maid had striven, and had forced her unto his will, 45 And the maiden, so fair and gentle, in such wise did she hold her still, For beside the couch was she seated—Then her father he mildly spake, 'Now weep not so sore, my daughter, for if one a jest doth make Whereof thou at first art wrathful, yet I ween ere the time be long, Shall thy sorrow be changed to gladness, and thy wailing to joyful song!' 50 Quoth Gawain, 'Nay, mine host, naught hath chanced here save that which thine eye may see; This maiden I fain would question, but naught would she tell to me, But now if it shall not vex thee let my service here find reward, And tell me, mine host, if it please thee, how it stands with those ladies there, 55 For I know not the place or the country where I looked on such maidens fair, So many there are, and their raiment showeth clear to my wondering sight!' Then the host wrung his hands for sorrow, and he spake, 'Ask me not, Sir Knight, In the name of God, ask no question—For wherever thy foot shall speed, Or whatever thine eyes shall light on, no need shall be like their need!' 60 'Then soothly I'll mourn for their sorrow,' quoth Gawain, 'but mine host now say Why vex thee so sore for my question? Thine answer why thus delay?' 'Sir Knight, for thy manhood mourn I, if thou wilt not thy question spare Then strife sure shall be thy portion, and sorrow thine heart shall bear. And thy sorrow of joy shall rob us, myself and my children three, 65 Who were born for thy gallant service true service to yield to thee.' Quoth Gawain, 'Yet for this thou shalt tell me, or if thou still say me, Nay, And I learn not from thee the story yet the truth will I know alway!' Then the host he spake out truly, 'Sir Knight, I must sorely rue, The question thou here dost ask me—Thou goest to strife anew, 70 Arm thee well, and a shield I'll lend thee—In "Terre Merveil" thou art, And the "Lit Merveil" shall be here—And ne'er hath a knightly heart Withstood all the many dangers that in ChÂteau Merveil shall be! Turn aside, ere thy death o'ertake thee, for life should be dear to thee! For wherever thine hand shall have striven, or what ventures soe'er it found 75 As child's play have been thy perils to those which beset this ground!' Quoth Gawain, 'Yet 'twould sorely vex me, if I, but to save me pain, Rode hence, doing naught, and those ladies had looked for mine aid in vain. Long since have I heard of this castle, and since it so near doth stand No man from the task shall bring me; to the venture I set my hand!' 80 Then the host he did sore bemoan him, and he spake to his guest so true, 'Now as naught is all other peril, what perils around thee drew, To the peril of this adventure, to its awe, and its anguish dire, And naught but the truth am I speaking, for no man ever spake me liar! But that gallant knight, Sir Gawain, for naught would he turn aside, 85 If thy words be the words of wisdom, and God give me the strength thereto, Thy will and thy rede I'll follow, and knightly the deeds I'll do! Sir Host, of a sooth it were ill done, did I fail here a blow to strike, And coward should I be accounted of foeman and friend alike.' 90 Then first did the host bemoan him, such sorrow he ne'er might know, And he quoth to his guest, 'If it may be that Heaven such grace shall show That death be not here thy portion, then this land unto thee shall fall. And the stake is full many a maiden fast bound in a magic thrall, No man ere this day hath freed them—And with them many noble knights 95 Shall lie as yet imprisoned; and if thou with hand of might Shall loose them, thou winnest glory, and God showeth grace to thee, And joyful, o'er light and beauty, king and ruler thou sure shalt be! And maidens from many a country shall honour thee as their king. Nor think, if thou now dost ride hence, such deed shame on thee should bring, 100 Since on this field Lischois Giwellius hath yielded him to thine hand, And left unto thee his honour; who erstwhile in every land Hath done gallant deeds of knighthood, of right may I praise his name, No knight showed a higher courage, or won him a fairer fame. And in no heart the root of virtue it showeth such fair increase 105 In blossom and flower of God's planting, save in Ither of Gaheviess!' 'And he who at Nantes slew Prince Ither my ship bare but yesterday, Five steeds hath he given unto me, (God keep him in peace alway,) Princes and kings once rode them, but now they afar must fare, And tidings of him who o'erthrew them must they carry to PelrapÄr. 110 For thus have they sworn the victor—His shield telleth many a tale Of jousting so fair and knightly—He rode hence to seek the Grail!' Quoth Gawain, 'Say, whence came he hither? Mine host, since he rode so near, Knew he naught of the wondrous venture? Or did he the marvel hear?' 'Sir Knight, ne'er a word hath he heard here, I guarded me all too well, 115 Lest unseemly my deed be reckoned if unasked I the tale should tell. And hadst thou thyself not asked me thou never from me hadst known The venture that here awaits thee, wrought of terror and pain alone. Then never a greater sorrow have we known than we know to-day. 120 But if thou shalt here be victor, and over this land shalt reign, Then my poverty hath an ending, and my loss shall be turned to gain; Such trust in thy free hand have I, I shall joy without sorrow know If thy glory here winneth glory, and thy body be not laid low!' 'Now arm thee for deadly warfare!'—unarmed was as yet Gawain, 125 'Now I prithee bring here my harness!' and the host to his will was fain. And from head to foot she armed him, the maiden fair and tall, And her father he sought the charger—Now a shield hung upon the wall, And the wood it was tough and well hardened, (else Gawain ne'er this tale might tell,) And the shield and the horse were brought him—and the host he bethought him well; 130 And, as once more he stood before him, he spake, 'List thou well, Sir Knight, I will tell thee how thou shalt bear thee, and guard thee thy life in fight:' 'My shield shalt thou carry with thee! Of war shall it bear no trace For but seldom I strive in battle, nor I count it me as disgrace. When thou comest, Sir Knight, to the castle, do this, it shall serve thy steed: 135 At the doorway a merchant sitteth, buy of him that which thou shalt need, Then give him thy steed, he will hold it, nor care thou what thou shalt buy, As a pledge will he hold thy charger, and will give it thee joyfully If unhurt from the Burg thou comest!' Quoth Gawain, 'Say, shall I not ride?' 'Nay, nay, for sore peril neareth, and the maidens their faces hide!' 140 'Thou shalt find that fair palace lonely, deserted by great and small, And no token of living creature shalt thou see in that stately hall. And may God's grace watch o'er thy footsteps, and His blessing go with thine hand When thou comest into the chamber where the "Lit Merveil" shall stand. And the couch, and the rollers beneath it, in Morocco they first were made 145 For the Ruler of all the Faithful; and were it in the balance weighed 'Gainst all treasures of crown and kingdom it still would outweigh them all. And I wot, there shall ill o'ertake thee, and God knoweth what shall befall, This sword and this shield that thou holdest, in thine hand must they ever be, 150 For surely when thou shalt think thee that the peril hath done its worst, Then first mayst thou look for conflict, and then shall the storm-cloudburst!' Then mournful I ween was the maiden, as Gawain to the saddle sprung, And all they who stood around her they wept and their hands they wrung, Then he quoth to his host, 'God grant me that hereafter I may repay 115 The care and the kindly counsel I have won from thy lips to-day.' Then leave did he pray of the maiden, and her sorrow was sore to see, He rode hence, and they whom he left here they mourned for him bitterly. And now, if ye fain would hearken what unto Gawain befell, The tale of his wondrous venture right gladly to ye I'll tell. 160 And in this wise I heard the story—As he came to the castle gate, A merchant with merchandise costly without did his coming wait. And so rich were his wares, and precious, that in sooth I were glad at heart If I, in so great a treasure, my portion might bear and part. Then, Sir Gawain, he sprang from his charger, for ne'er had he seen before 165 Outspread in the open market such goods as were here in store. And the booth was of velvet fashioned, four-square, and both wide and high, And that which lay there for purchase no monarch might lightly buy. The Baruch of Bagdad scarcely had paid that which lay therein; Nor the Patriarch of Rankulat might think him such prize to win. 170 Yea, and great as shall be the treasure that was found but awhile ago In the land of the Greeks yet their Emperor such riches might hardly know! And e'en if these twain had helped him the price he had failed to pay That a man must count for the treasure that here before Gawain lay. Then the knight greeted well the merchant as he looked on the wondrous store 175 Of marvels that lay before him, but he stayed not to turn it o'er, But bade him show clasp and girdle; then he quoth to the hero bold, 'For many a year have I sat here, yet no man doth my wares behold; Of all here shalt thou be the master; they were brought from a distant land, 180 If here thou shalt be the victor, (for in sooth hast thou come for fight,) And the venture shall well betide thee, I will deal with thee well, Sir Knight! For all that my booth containeth is thine if thou win the day! So trust thou in God and His mercy, and take to the Burg thy way. PlippalinÒt in sooth hath sent thee, and thy coming well praised shall be 185 Of many a gracious maiden if thy prowess shall set her free!' 'Now wouldst thou withstand this venture leave here for awhile thy steed, If thou trust it unto my keeping, I will give to the charge good heed.' Quoth Gawain, 'Yea, I'll gladly do so, if unseemly be not the task, Too greatly I fear thy riches such grace from thine hand to ask, 190 For ne'er since I rode upon it such keeper my steed hath known'— Out quoth the merchant freely, 'Sir Knight, all shall be thine own, Myself, and the wares I guard here, (nor further of them I'll speak,) They are his, who in safety faceth the danger thou here dost seek!' And so bold was I ween the hero that on foot did he go straightway, 195 Undaunted, to face the peril untold that before him lay. And, as I before have told ye, the Burg it stood high and wide, And its bulwarks so stoutly builded did guard it on either side. If for thirty years they stormed it, not a berry or leaf would yield, However the foe might threaten; in the midst was a grassy field, 200 (Yet the Lechfeld I ween is longer,) many turrets they towered on high, And the story it tells that Gawain, as the palace he did espy, Saw the roof shine all many-coloured, as peacock's plumes its glow, And so bright it was that its glory was dimmed nor by rain nor snow. And within was it richly furnished, and decked to delight the eye, 205 And the pillars were richly carven, and the windows were arched on high, And many a fair couch costly had they set there against the wall, Nor touched they the one to the other, and rich covers lay over all. And but now had the maidens sat there, but each one had taken thought, And no one of them all remained there, and of welcome Gawain found naught. 210 Yet their joy came again with his coming, and the day of their bliss was he, Yet none there might dare behold him, tho' to serve them he aye was fain, And yet in this thing were they guiltless—Thro' the palace strode knight Gawain, And he looked on this side and the other, and he sought well the chamber o'er, 215 If to left or to right I know not, but he saw there an open door, And wherever that door might lead him the hero was fain to go, If high fame he might gain for his seeking, or die there a death of woe! So stepped he within the chamber, and behold! the shining floor, As glass it lay smooth beneath him, and the Lit-Merveil he saw, 220 The wonder-couch; and beneath it four rollers as crystal clear, And fashioned of fire-red rubies: as the swift wind afar and near Did it speed o'er the shining pavement, no floor might fairer be, Chrysolite, sardius, jasper, inwrought there the eye might see. For so had Klingsor willed it, and the thought it was his alone, 225 From far-off lands his magic had brought to the Burg each stone. So smooth 'neath his feet the pavement, scarce might be his footing hold, Then fain would he seek the venture, but, so is the marvel told, As ever he stood before it the couch from its station fled, And swift as the winds of heaven o'er the glittering floor it sped. 230 (And Gawain he found all too heavy the shield that his hand gripped fast, And yet did his host give counsel it should ne'er on one side be cast.) Thought Gawain, 'Now, how may I reach thee, since still thou dost fly from me? Methinks thou shalt have a lesson, it may be I may spring to thee!' Then still stood the couch before him, and straight from the ground he leapt 235 And stood firm in the midst of the marvel, and again o'er the floor it swept, And hither and thither turning in the four walls its goal it found, And blow upon blow fell swiftly, till the Burg echoed back the sound. And many a charge did he ride there, with crash, as of thunder-cloud, Or as trumpeters blow together when their blasts thro' the hall ring loud, 240 And the one vieth with the other, and each for a fair prize blows. Less loud should have been their tumult than the tumult that there arose! And waken and watch must Sir Gawain, altho' on a bed he lay. And his head with his shield he covered—There he lay, and would wait His will 245 Who hath help in His power, and helpeth all those who entreat Him still, And shutteth His ear to no man who in sorrow for aid doth pray. And the man who is wise and steadfast, as dawneth his sorrow's day, Doth call on the hand of the Highest, that shall ne'er be too short to reach, And the aid that shall meet their lacking He sendeth to all and each. 250 And so was it now with Gawain—Thro' Whose grace he had gotten fame, He called on His power and His mercy to shelter him here from shame. Then stilled for a space the clamour—The couch stood within the hall, And an equal space had they measured from its station to either wall. Yet now waxed his peril greater, for five hundred missiles, swung 255 With craft from hands yet hidden, were against Sir Gawain flung. And they fell on the couch as he lay there; but the shield it was hard and new, And it sheltered him well, and I think me of the blows did he feel but few. And the stones were as river pebbles, so heavy, and hard, and round, And in many a place on the surface of the shield might their trace be found. 260 At length was the stone-shower ended, and never before he knew Such sharp and such heavy missiles as those which toward him flew. For now full five hundred cross-bows were bended, their bolts they sped, And each one was aimed at the hero as he lay on the Wonder-Bed. (And he who hath faced such peril in sooth he of darts may tell:) 265 Yet their wrath was soon spent, and silence for awhile on the chamber fell. And he who would seek for comfort he ne'er on such couch should lie! Little solace or rest may he find there, but peace from his face shall fly! And youth would wax grey and agÈd, if such comfort should be its share As fell to the lot of Gawain, when he lay on that couch so fair. 270 Yet nor weariness nor terror had weakened or hand or heart, Tho' the stones and the bolts of the cross-bow had done on his limbs their part, And spite of both shield and corslet, sore bruisÈd and cut was he: And he thought that, this peril ended, the venture should ended be— But yet with his hand must he battle, and the prize of the victor win, 275 For a doorway e'en now flew open, and one trode the hall within; And the hide of the grey sea-otter was his covering on head and limb, And his hosen were wide, and he carried a club in his strong right hand, And 'twas thicker I ween than a pitcher that round-bellied doth firmly stand. 280 So came he unto Sir Gawain, (and his coming it pleased him ill,) Yet he thought, 'He doth bear no harness, mine arms shall withstand him still,' Upright on the couch he sat him, as nor terror nor pain he knew, And the peasant, as he would flee him, a space from the bed withdrew, And he cried in a voice so wrathful, 'From me hast thou naught to fear, 285 Yet such peril I'll loose upon thee that thy life must thou buy full dear; The devil himself doth aid thee, else wert thou not still in life, Bethink thee, for death cometh swiftly, and the ending of all thy strife, No more can the devil shield thee, that I tell thee ere hence I pass!' Then he gat him once more thro' the doorway, and Gawain gripped his sword-hilt fast, 290 And the shafts did he smite asunder of the arrows that thro' his shield Had passed, and had pierced his armour, nor yet to his hand would yield. Then a roar, as of mighty thunder, on the ear of Gawain did fall, As when twenty drums were sounding to dance in the castle hall. Then the hero, so firm and dauntless, whose courage ne'er felt the smart 295 Of the wounds that cowardice pierceth, thought thus in his steadfast heart: 'What evil shall now befall me? Must I yet more sorrow know? For sorrow enow have I seen here, yet here will I face my foe!' He looked toward the peasant's doorway, and a mighty lion sprang thro', And its size was e'en that of a warhorse, and straight on Gawain it flew. 300 But Gawain he was loth to fly here, and his shield he held fast before, As best for defence should serve him, and he sprang down upon the floor. And the lion was hunger-ravening, yet little should find for food, Tho' raging it sprang on the hero, who bravely its rush withstood. The shield it had near torn from him, with the first grip its talons fierce 305 It drave thro' the wood, such hardness but seldom a beast may pierce. Yet Gawain did right well defend him, his sword-blade aloft he swung, And on three feet the beast must hold him, while the fourth from the shield yet hung. And the fight raged hither and thither, as the lion, on the hero good, 310 Sprang ever with snorting nostrils, and gleaming fangs and white— And if on such food they had reared it, that its meat was a gallant knight, I had cared not to sit beside it! Nor such custom pleased Gawain well, Who for life or for death must fight it—and the strife ever fiercer fell. So sorely the beast was wounded, the chamber with blood ran o'er; 315 Fierce sprang the lion upon Gawain, and would bear him unto the floor, But Gawain a sword-thrust dealt him, thro' the heart the swift blade sped Till his hand smote full on the breast-bone, and the lion at his feet fell dead. And now all the deadly peril and the conflict was over-past— In the same hour Gawain bethought him, 'Where now shall my lot be cast? 320 Since to sit in this blood I like not, and I must of the couch beware, For it runneth a race so frantic 'twere foolish to sit me there!' But yet was his head so deafened with the blows that upon him fell, And many his wounds, and the life-blood did forth from its fountains well, And his strength waxed faint, and it left him, and he fell on the chamber floor; 325 His head lay on the lion's body, and the shield might he hold no more. And if wisdom and power were his portion, of the twain was he reft I ween, And tho' fair was the Burg, yet within it full rough had his handling been. His senses forsook him wholly—no such pillow I ween was his As that which on Mount RibbelÉ Gymele gave to Kahenis; 330 Both fair and wise was the maiden—and his honour he slept away— But here honour ran swift-footed to Gawain as he prostrate lay. For in sooth ye shall well have hearkened, and shall know how such chance befell, That thus lay the hero lifeless, from the first have ye heard it well. Then in secret one looked upon him, and the chamber with blood was red, 335 And the lion alike and the hero they lay as the twain were dead. 'Twas a fair and gracious maiden who saw thro' a loop-hole high, And her face it grew wan, and the colour from her lips and her cheek must fly. Yet ArnivÉ was wise, and her wisdom did here o'er the woe prevail, 340 And still for this deed must I praise her, she drew near to aid Gawain, And from peril of death she freed him who freedom for her would gain. Then herself she was fain to behold him, and they gazed thro' the window small, And naught might they tell, those women, of what waited them in the hall. Was it news of a joyful future? Or of woe that should last for aye? 345 And the queen's heart it sore misgave her that the hero had died that day, (And the thought brought her grief and sorrow,) since he sought him no better bed, But silent he lay, and rested on the corse of the lion his head. And she spake, 'From my heart I mourn thee, if thy manhood so true and brave Hath won thee no better guerdon, and thy life thou hast failed to save. 350 If death here hath been thy portion for our sake, who shall strangers be, And thy truth to such fate hath brought thee, then for ever I'll mourn for thee. And thy virtue I'll praise, tho' the counting of thy years I may never know!' And she spake to the weeping women, as they looked on the knight laid low, 'Ye maids who shall be baptizÈd, and by water have won a place 355 In God's kingdom, pray ye unto Him, that He show to this hero grace!' Then she sent below two maidens, and she bade them to seek Gawain, And softly draw nigh unto him, nor pass from his side again Till they brought her full assurance how it went with the gallant knight, If perchance he should yet be living, or had found his death in fight. 360 So she gave to the twain commandment—Did they weep those maidens fair? Yea, both must weep full sorely for the grief that was here their share, When they found the hero lying, for his wounds they ran with blood Till the shield in blood was swimming—then they bent o'er the hero good, And with gentle hand the helmet one loosened from off his head, 365 And she saw a light foam gathered upon his lips so red, And she waited a space and hearkened, if perchance she might hear his breath, For but now had she thought him living, yet she deemed it might well be death. And his over-dress was of sable, and the mystic beasts it bore, (And courage and fame were his portion from his youth till his dying day.) From the coat with her ready fingers the sable she tore away, And she held it before his nostrils, for thus might she better know If yet he should live, since his breathing would stir the hair to and fro. And the breath was yet there, and straightway she bade her companion bring 375 Fair water, the gentle maiden did swift on her errand spring. Then the mai |
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