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    "endpoint": "/api/sources/grail-romances/high-history-of-the-holy-graal/06-the-high-history-of-the-holy-graal-branch-v.json"
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  "work": {
    "slug": "high-history-of-the-holy-graal",
    "name": "High History of the Holy Graal"
  },
  "parents": [
    {
      "slug": "grail-romances",
      "name": "Holy Grail Romances",
      "url": "/sources/grail-romances/"
    }
  ],
  "chapter": {
    "num": 6,
    "slug": "06-the-high-history-of-the-holy-graal-branch-v",
    "title": "The High History of the Holy Graal: Branch V",
    "of": 36,
    "words": 5440,
    "text": "## The High History of the Holy Graal: Branch V\n\n\nINCIPIT.\n\nHere beginneth again another branch of the Graal in the name of\nthe Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.\n\nTITLE I.\n\nMessire Gawain goeth his way and evening draweth on; and on his\nright hand was there a narrow pathway that seemed him to be\nhaunted of folk. Thitherward goeth he, for that he seeth the sun\nwaxeth low, and findeth in the thick of the forest a great\nchapel, and without was a right fair manor. Before the chapel\nwas an orchard enclosed of a wooden fence that was scarce so high\nas a tall man. A hermit that seemed him a right worshipful man\nwas leaning against the fence, and looked into the orchard and\nmade great cheer from time to time. He seeth Messire Gawain, and\ncometh to meet him, and Messire Gawain alighteth.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the hermit, \"Welcome may you be.\"\n\n\"God grant you the joy of Paradise,\" saith Messire Gawain. The\nhermit maketh his horse be stabled of a squire, and then taketh\nhim by the hand and maketh him sit beside him to look on the\norchard.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the hermit, \"Now may you see that whereof I was\nmaking cheer.\"\n\nMessire Gawain looketh therewithin and seeth two damsels and a\nsquire and a child that were guarding a lion.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the hermit, \"Here see my joy, which is this child.\nSaw you ever so fair a child his age?\"\n\n\"Never,\" saith Messire Gawain. They go into the orchard to sit,\nfor the evening was fair and calm. He maketh disarm him, and\nthereupon the damsel bringeth him a surcoat of right rich silk\nfurred of ermine. And Messire Gawain looketh at the child that\nrode upon the lion right fainly.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the hermit, \"None durst guard him or be master over\nhim save this child only, and yet the lad is not more than six\nyears of age. Sir, he is of right noble lineage, albeit he is\nthe son of the most cruel man and most felon that is. Marin the\nJealous is his father, that slew his wife on account of Messire\nGawain. Never sithence that his mother was dead would not the\nlad be with his father, for well knoweth he that he slew her of\nwrong. And I am his uncle, so I make him be tended here of these\ndamsels and these two squires, but no one thing is there that he\nso much desireth to see as Messire Gawain. For after his\nfather's death ought he of right to be Messire Gawain's man. Sir,\nif any tidings you know of him, tell us them.\"\n\n\"By my faith, Sir,\" saith he, \"Tidings true can I give you. Lo,\nthere is his shield and his spear, and himself shall you have\nthis night for guest.\"\n\n\"Fair sir, are you he?\" saith the hermit.\n\n\"So men call me,\" saith Messire Gawain, \"And the lady saw I slain\nin the forest, whereof was I sore an-angered.\"\n\nII.\n\n\"Fair nephew,\" saith the hermit, \"See here your desire. Come to\nhim and make him cheer.\"\n\nThe lad alighteth of the lion and smiteth him with a whip and\nleadeth him to the den and maketh the door so that he may not\nissue forth, and cometh to Messire Gawain, and Messire Gawain\nreceiveth him between his arms. \"Sir,\" saith the child, \"Welcome\nmay you be!\"\n\n\"God give you growth of honour!\" saith Messire Gawain. He\nkisseth him and maketh cheer with him right sweetly.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the hermit, \"He will be of right your man, wherefore\nought you to counsel him and help him, for through you came his\nmother by her death, and right sore need will he have of your\nsuccour.\" The child kneeleth before him and holdeth up his\njoined hands.\n\n\"Look, Sir,\" saith the hermit, \"Is he not right pitiful? He\noffereth you his homage.\"\n\nAnd Messire Gawain setteth his hands within his own: \"Certes,\"\nsaith Messire Gawain, \"Both your honour and your homage receive I\ngladly, and my succour and my counsel shall you have so often as\nyou shall have need thereof. But fain would I know your name?\"\n\n\"Sir, I am called Meliot of Logres.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the hermit, \"He saith true, for his mother was\ndaughter of a rich earl of the kingdom of Logres.\"\n\nIII.\n\nMessire Gawain was well harboured the night and lay in a right\nfair house and right rich. In the morning, when Messire Gawain\nhad heard mass, the hermit asked him, \"Whitherward go you?\" and\nhe said, \"Toward the land of King Fisherman, and God allow me.\"\n\n\"Messire Gawain,\" saith the hermit, \"Now God grant you speed your\nbusiness better than did the other knight that was there before\nyou, through whom are all the lands fallen into sorrow, and the\ngood King Fisherman languisheth thereof.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith Messire Gawain, \"God grant me herein to do His\npleasure.\"\n\nThereupon he taketh his leave and goeth his way, and the hermit\ncommendeth him to God. And Messire Gawain rideth on his journeys\nuntil he hath left far behind the forest of the hermitage, and\nfindeth the fairest land in the world and the fairest meadowlands\nthat ever had he seen, and it lasted a good couple of great\nleagues Welsh. And he seeth a high forest before him, and\nmeeteth a squire that came from that quarter, and seeth that he\nis sore downcast and right simple.\n\n\"Fair friend,\" saith Messire Gawain, \"Whence come you?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"I come from yonder forest down below.\"\n\n\"Whose man are you?\" saith Messire Gawain.\n\n\"I belong to the worshipful man that owneth the forest.\"\n\n\"You seem not over joyful,\" saith Messire Gawain.\n\n\"Sir, I have right to be otherwise,\" saith the squire, \"For he\nthat loseth his good lord ought not to be joyful.\"\n\n\"And who is your lord?\"\n\n\"The best in the world.\"\n\n\"Is he dead?\" saith Messire Gawain.\n\n\"Nay, of a truth, for that would be right sore grief to the\nworld, but in joy hath he not been this long time past.\"\n\n\"And what name hath he?\"\n\n\"They call him Parlui there where he is.\"\n\n\"And where then, is he, may I know?\"\n\n\"In no wise, Sir, of me; but so much may I well tell you that he\nis in this forest, but I ought not to learn you of the place more\nat large, nor ought I to do any one thing that may be against my\nmaster's will.\"\n\nMessire Gawain seeth that the squire is of passing comeliness and\nseeth him forthwith bow his head toward the ground and the tears\nfall from his eyes. Thereupon he asketh what aileth him.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"Never may I have joy until such time as I be\nentered into a hermitage to save my soul. For the greatest sin\nthat any man may do have I wrought; for I have slain my mother\nthat was a Queen, for this only that she told me I should not be\nKing after my father's death, for that she would make me monk or\nclerk, and that my other brother, who is younger-born than I,\nshould have the kingdom. When my father knew that I had slain my\nmother, he withdrew himself into this forest, and made a\nhermitage and renounced his kingdom. I have no will to hold the\nland for the great disloyalty that I have wrought, and therefore\nam I resolved that it is meeter I should set my body in\nbanishment than my father.\"\n\n\"And what is your name?\" saith Messire Gawain.\n\n\"Sir, my name is Joseus, and I am of the lineage of Joseph of\nAbarimacie. King Pelles is my father, that is in this forest,\nand King Fisherman mine uncle, and the King of Castle Mortal, and\nthe Widow Lady of Camelot my aunt, and the Good Knight Par-lui-\nfet is of this lineage as near akin as I.\"\n\nIV.\n\nWith that, the squire departeth and taketh leave of Messire\nGawain, and he commendeth him to God and hath great pity of him,\nand entereth into the forest and goeth great pace, and findeth\nthe stream of a spring that ran with a great rushing, and nigh\nthereunto was a way that was much haunted. He abandoneth his\nhigh-way, and goeth all along the stream from the spring that\nlasteth a long league plenary, until that he espieth a right fair\nhouse and right fair chapel well enclosed within a hedge of wood.\nHe looketh from without the entrance under a little tree and\nseeth there sitting one of the seemliest men that he had ever\nseen of his age. And he was clad as a hermit, his head white and\nno hair on his face, and he held his hand to his chin, and made a\nsquire hold a destrier right fair and strong and tail, and a\nshield with a sun thereon; and he was looking at a habergeon and\nchausses of iron that he had made bring before him. And when he\nseeth Messire Gawain he dresseth him over against him and saith:\n\"Fair sir,\" saith he, \"Ride gently and make no noise, for no need\nhave we of worse than that we have.\"\n\nAnd Messire Gawain draweth rein, and the worshipful man saith to\nhim: \"Sir, for God's sake take it not of discourtesy; for right\nfainly would I have besought you to harbour had I not good cause\nto excuse me, but a knight lieth within yonder sick, that is held\nfor the best knight in the world. Wherefore fain would I he\nshould have no knight come within this close, for and if he\nshould rise, as sick as he is, none might prevent him nor hold\nhim back, but presently he should arm him and mount on his horse\nand joust at you or any other; and so he were here, well might we\nbe the worse thereof. And therefore do I keep him so close and\nquiet within yonder, for that I would not have him see you nor\nnone other, for and he were so soon to die, sore loss would it be\nto the world.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith Messire Gawain, \"What name hath he?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith he, \"He hath made him of himself, and therefore do I\ncall him Par-lui-fer, of dearness and love.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith Messire Gawain, \"May it not be in any wise that I\nmay see him?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the hermit, \"I have told you plainly that nowise may\nit not be. No strange man shall not see him within yonder until\nsuch time as he be whole and of good cheer.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith Messire Gawain, \"Will you in nowise do nought for me\nwhatsoever I may say?\"\n\n\"Certes, sir, no one thing is there in the world that I would\ntell him, save he spake first to me.\"\n\nHereof is Messire Gawain right sorrowful that he may not speak to\nthe knight. \"Sir,\" saith he to the hermit, \"Of what age is the\nknight, and of what lineage?\"\n\n\"Of the lineage of Joseph of Abarimacie the Good Soldier.\"\n\nV.\n\nThereupon behold you a damsel that cometh to the door of the\nchapel and calleth very low to the hermit, and the hermit riseth\nup and taketh leave of Messire Gawain, and shutteth the door of\nthe chapel; and the squire leadeth away the destrier and beareth\nthe arms within door and shutteth the postern door of the house.\nAnd Messire abideth without and knoweth not of a truth whether it\nbe the son of the Widow Lady, for many good men there be of one\nlineage. He departeth all abashed and entereth again into the\nforest. The history telleth not all the journeys that he made.\nRather, I tell you in brief words that he wandered so far by\nlands and kingdoms that he found a right fair land and a rich,\nand a castle seated in the midst thereof. Thitherward goeth he\nand draweth nigh the castle and seeth it compassed about of high\nwalls, and he seeth the entrance of the castle far without. He\nlooketh and seeth a lion chained that lay in the midst of the\nentrance to the gate, and the chain was fixed in the wall. And\non either side of the gate he seeth two serjeants of beaten\ncopper that were fixed to the wall, and by engine shot forth\nquarrels from their cross-bows with great force and great wrath.\nMessire Gawain durst not come anigh the gate for that he seeth\nthe lion and these folk. He looketh above on the top of the wall\nand seeth a sort of folk that seemed him to be of holy life, and\nsaw there priests clad in albs and knights bald and ancient that\nwere clad in ancient seeming garments. And in each crenel of the\nwall was a cross and a chapel. Above the wall, hard by an issue\nfrom a great hall that was in the castle, was another chapel, and\nabove the chapel was a tall cross, and on either side of this\ncross another that was somewhat lower, and on the top of each\ncross was a golden eagle. The priests and the knights were upon\nthe walls and knelt toward this chapel, and looked up to heaven\nand made great joy, and well it seemed him that they beheld God\nin Heaven with His Mother. Messire Gawain looketh at them from\nafar, for he durst not come anigh the castle for these that shoot\ntheir arrows so strongly that none armour might defend him. Way\nseeth he none to right nor left save he go back again. He\nknoweth not what to do. He looketh before him and seeth a priest\nissue forth of the gateway. \"Fair sir,\" saith Messire Gawain,\n\"Welcome may you be!\"\n\n\"Good adventure to you also,\" saith the good man, \"What is your\npleasure?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith Messire Gawain, \"So please you, I would fain ask you\nto tell me what castle is this?\"\n\n\"It is,\" saith he, \"the entrance to the land of the rich King\nFisherman, and within yonder are they beginning the service of\nthe Most Holy Graal.\"\n\n\"Allow me then,\" saith Messire Gawain, \"that I may pass on\nfurther, for toward the land of King Fisherman have I emprised my\nway.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the priest, \"I tell you of a truth that you may not\nenter the castle nor come nigher unto the Holy Graal, save you\nbring the sword wherewith S. John was beheaded.\"\n\n\"What?\" saith Messire Gawain, \"Shall I be evilly entreated and I\nbring it not?\"\n\n\"So much may you well believe me herein,\" saith the priest, \"And\nI tell you moreover that he who hath it is the fellest\nmisbelieving King that lives. But so you bring the Sword, this\nentrance will be free to you, and great joy will be made of you\nin all places wherein King Fisherman hath power.\"\n\n\"Then must I needs go back again,\" saith Messire Gawain, \"Whereof\nI have right to be sore sorrowful.\"\n\n\"So ought you not to be,\" saith the priest, \"For, so you bring\nthe sword and conquer it for us, then will it be well known that\nyou are worthy to behold the Holy Graal. But take heed you\nremember him who would not ask whereof it served.\"\n\nThereupon Messire Gawain departeth so sorrowful and full of\nthought that he remembereth not to ask in what land he may find\nthe sword nor the name of the King that hath it. But he will\nknow tidings thereof when God pleaseth.\n\nVI.\n\nThe history telleth us and witnesseth that he rode so far that he\ncame to the side of a little hill, and the day was right fair and\nclear. He looketh in front of him before a chapel and seeth a\ntall burgess sitting on a great destrier that was right rich and\nfair. The burgess espieth Messire Gawain and cometh over against\nhim, and saluteth him right courteously and Messire Gawain him.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith Messire Gawain, \"God give you joy.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the goodman, \"Right sorrowful am I of this that you\nhave a horse so lean and spare of flesh. Better would it become\nso worshipful man as you seem to be that he were better horsed.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith Messire Gawain, \"I may not now amend it, whereof am\nI sorry; another shall I have when it shall please God.\"\n\n\"Fair sir,\" saith the burgess, \"Whither are you bound to go?\"\n\n\"I go seek the sword wherewith the head of S. John Baptist was\ncut off.\"\n\n\"Ha, sir,\" saith the burgess, \"You are running too sore a peril.\nA King hath it that believeth not in God, and is sore fell and\ncruel. He is named Gurgalain, and many knights have passed\nhereby that went thither for the sword, but never thence have\nthey returned. But, and you are willing to pledge me your word\nthat so God grant you to conquer the sword, you will return\nhither and show it me on your return, I will give you this\ndestrier, which is right rich, for your own.\"\n\n\"Will you?\" saith Messire Gawain, \"Then are you right courteous,\nfor you know me not.\"\n\n\"Certes, sir,\" saith he, \"So worshipful man seem you to be, that\nyou will hold well to this that you have covenanted with me.\"\n\n\"And to this do I pledge you my word,\" saith Messire Gawain,\n\"that, so God allow me to conquer it, I will show it to you on my\nreturn.\"\n\nVII.\n\nThereupon the burgess alighteth and mounteth upon Messire\nGawain's horse, and Messire Gawain upon his, and taketh leave of\nthe burgess and goeth his way and entereth into a right great\nforest beyond the city, and rideth until sundown and findeth\nneither castle nor city. And he findeth a meadow in the midst of\nthe forest, right broad, and it ran on beyond, like as there were\nthe stream of a spring in the midst. He looketh toward the foot\nof the meadow close by the forest, and seeth a right large tent,\nwhereof the cords were of silk and the pegs of ivory fixed in the\nground, and the tops of the poles of gold and upon each was a\ngolden eagle. The tent was white round about, and the hanging\nabove was of the richest silk, the same as red samite.\nThitherward goeth Messire Gawain and alighteth before the door of\nthe tent, and smiteth off the bridle of his horse, and letteth\nhim feed on the grass, and leaneth his spear and his shield\nwithout the tent, and looketh narrowly within\"and seeth a right\nrich couch of silk and gold, and below was a cloth unfolded as it\nwere a feather-bed, and above a coverlid of ermine and vair\nwithout any gold, and at the head of the couch two pillows so\nrich that fairer none ever saw, and such sweet smell gave they\nforth that it seemed the tent was sprinkled of balm. And round\nabout the couch were rich silken cloths spread on the ground.\nAnd at the head of the couch on the one side and the other were\ntwo seats of ivory, and upon them were two cushions stuffed with\nstraw, right rich, and at the foot of the couch, above the bed,\ntwo candlesticks of gold wherein were two tall waxen tapers. A\ntable was set in the midst of the tent, that was all of ivory\nbanded of gold, with rich precious stones, and upon the table was\nthe napkin spread and the basin of silver and the knife with an\nivory handle and the rich set of golden vessels. Messire Gawain\nseeth the rich couch and setteth him down thereon all armed in\nthe midst, and marvelleth him wherefore the tent is so richly\napparelled and yet more that therein he seeth not a soul.\nHowbeit, he was minded to disarm him.\n\nVIII.\n\nThereupon, behold you, saluteth a dwarf that entereth the tent\nand saluteth Messire Gawain. Then he kneeleth before him and\nwould fain disarm him. Then Messire Gawain remembereth him of\nthe dwarf through whom the lady was slain.\n\n\"Fair sweet friend, withdraw yourself further from me, for as at\nthis time I have no mind to disarm.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the dwarf, \"Without misgiving may you do so, for\nuntil to-morrow have you no occasion to be on your guard, and\nnever were you more richly lodged than to-night you shall be, nor\nmore honourably.\"\n\nWith that Messire Gawain began to disarm him, and the dwarf\nhelpeth him. And when he was disarmed, he setteth his arms nigh\nthe couch and his spear and sword and shield lying within the\ntent, and the dwarf taketh a basin of silver and a white napkin,\nand maketh Messire Gawain wash his hands and his face.\nAfterward, he unfasteneth a right fair coffer, and draweth forth\na robe of cloth of gold furred of ermine and maketh Messire\nGawain be clad therewithal.\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the dwarf, \"Be not troubled as touching your\ndestrier, for you will have him again when you rise in the\nmorning. I will lead him close hereby to be better at ease, and\nthen will I return to you.\"\n\nAnd Messire Gawain giveth him leave. Thereupon, behold you, two\nsquires that bear in the wine and set the meats upon the table\nand make Messire Gawain sit to eat, and they have great torches\nlighted on a tall cresset of gold and depart swiftly. Whilst\nMessire Gawain was eating, behold you, thereupon, two damsels\nthat come into the tent and salute him right courteously. And he\nmaketh answer, the fairest he may.\n\n\"Sir,\" say the damsels, \"God grant you force and power tomorrow\nto destroy the evil custom of this tent.\"\n\n\"Is there then any evil custom herein, damsel?\" saith he.\n\n\"Yea, sir, a right foul custom, whereof much it grieveth me, but\nwell meseemeth that you are the knight to amend it by the help of\nGod.\"\n\nIX.\n\nTherewith he riseth from the table, and one of the squires was\napparelled to take away the cloths. And the two damsels take him\nby the hand and lead him without the tent, and they set them down\nin the midst of the meadow. \"Sir,\" saith the elder damsel, \"What\nis your name?\"\n\n\"Damsel,\" saith he, \"Gawain is my name.\"\n\n\"Thereof do we love you the better, for well we know that the\nevil custom of the tent shall be done away on condition that you\nchoose to-night the one of us two that most shall please you.\"\n\n\"Damsel, gramercy,\" saith he. Thereupon he riseth up, for he was\nweary, and draweth him toward the couch, and the damsels help him\nand wait upon his going to bed. And when he was lien down, they\nseated themselves before him and lighted the taper and leant over\nthe couch and prospered him much service. Messire Gawain\nanswered them naught save \"Gramercy,\" for he was minded to sleep\nand take his rest.\n\n\"By God,\" saith the one to the other, \"And this were Messire\nGawain, King Arthur's nephew, he would speak to us after another\nsort, and more of disport should we find in him than in this one.\nBut this is a counterfeit Gawain, and the honour we have done him\nhath been ill bestowed. Who careth? To-morrow shall he pay his\nreckoning.\"\n\nX.\n\nThereupon, lo you, the dwarf where he cometh. \"Fair friend,\" say\nthey, \"Keep good watch over this knight that he flee not away,\nfor he goeth a-cadging from, hostel to hostel and maketh him be\ncalled Messire Gawain, but Messire Gawain meseemeth is he not.\nFor, and it were he, and we had been minded to watch with him two\nnights, he would have wished it to be three or four.\"\n\n\"Damsel,\" saith the dwarf, \"He may not flee away save he go\nafoot, for his horse is in my keeping.\"\n\nAnd Messire Gawain heareth well enough that which the damsels\nsay, but he answereth them never a word. Thereupon they depart,\nand say: God give him an ill night, for an evil knight and a\nvanquished and recreant, and command the dwarf that he move not\non any occasion. Messire Gawain slept right little the night,\nand so soon as he saw the day, arose and found his arms ready and\nhis horse that had been led all ready saddled before the tent.\nHe armed himself as swiftly as he might, and the dwarf helpeth\nhim and saith to him: \"Sir, you have not done service to our\ndamsels as they would fain you should, wherefore they make sore\ncomplaint of you.\"\n\n\"That grieveth me,\" saith Messire Gawain, \"if that I have\ndeserved it.\"\n\n\"It is great pity,\" saith the dwarf, \"when knight so comely as be\nyou is so churlish as they say.\"\n\n\"They may say their pleasure,\" saith he, \"for it is their right.\nI know not to whom to render thanks for the good lodging that I\nhave had save to God, and if I shall see the lord of the tent or\nthe lady I shall con them much thanks thereof.\"\n\nXI.\n\nThereupon, lo you, where two knights come in front of the tent on\ntheir horses, all armed, and see Messire Gawain that was mounted\nand had his shield on his neck and his spear in his fist, as he\nthat thinketh to go without doing aught further. And the knights\ncome before him: \"Sir,\" say they, \"Pay for your lodging! Last\nnight did we put ourselves to misease on your account and left\nyou the tent and all that is therein at your pleasure, and now\nyou are fain to go in this fashion.\"\n\n\"What pleaseth it you that I should do?\" saith Messire Gawain.\n\n\"It is meet I should requite you of my victual and the honour of\nthe tent.\"\n\nThereupon, lo you, where the two damsels come that were of right\ngreat beauty. \"Sir Knight,\" say they, \"Now shall we see whether\nyou be King Arthur's nephew!\"\n\n\"By my faith,\" saith the dwarf, \"Methinketh this is not he that\nshall do away the evil custom whereby we lose the coming hither\nof knights! Albeit if he may do it, I will forego mine ill will\ntoward him.\"\n\nMessire Gawain thus heard himself mocked by day as well as by\nnight and had great shame thereof. He seeth that he may not\ndepart without a fight. One of the knights drew to backward and\nwas alighted; the other was upon his horse all armed, his shield\non his neck and grasping his spear in his fist. And he cometh\ntoward Messire Gawain full career and Messire Gawain toward him,\nand smiteth him so wrathfully that he pierceth his shield and\npinneth his shield to his arm and his arm to his rib and\nthrusteth his spear into his body, and hurtleth against him so\nsore that he beareth him to the ground, him and his horse\ntogether at the first blow.\n\n\"By my head! Look at Messire Gawain the counterfeit! Better\ndoth he to-day than he did last night!\"\n\nHe draweth back his spear, and pulleth forth his sword and\nrunneth upon him, when the knight crieth him mercy and saith that\nhe holdeth himself vanquished. Messire Gawain bethinketh him\nwhat he shall do and whether the damsels are looking at him.\n\n\"Sir knight,\" saith the elder, \"Need you not fear the other\nknight until such time as this one be slain, nor will the evil\ncustom be done away so long as this one is on live. For he is\nthe lord of the other and because of the shameful custom hath no\nknight come hither this right long space.\"\n\n\"Hearken now,\" saith the knight, \"the great disloyalty of her!\nNought in the world is there she loved so well in seeming as did\nshe me, and now hath she adjudged me my death!\"\n\n\"Again I tell you plainly,\" saith she, \"that never will it be\ndone away unless he slay you.\"\n\nThereupon Messire Gawain lifteth the skirt of his habergeon and\nthrusteth his sword into his body. Thereupon, lo you, the other\nknight, right angry and sorrowful and full of wrath for his\nfellow that he seeth dead, and cometh in great rage to Messire\nGawain and Messire Gawain to him, and so stoutly they mell\ntogether that they pierce the shields and pierce the habergeons\nand break the flesh of the ribs with the points of their spears,\nand the bodies of the knights and their horses hurtle together so\nstiffly that saddle-bows are to-frushed and stirrups loosened and\ngirths to-brast and fewtres splintered and spears snapped short,\nand the knights drop to the ground with such a shock that the\nblood rayeth forth at mouth and nose. In the fall that the\nknight made, Messire Gawain brake his collar-bone in the hurtle.\nThereupon the dwarf crieth out: \"Damsel, your counterfeit Gawain\ndoth it well!\"\n\n\"Our Gawain shall he be,\" say they, \"so none take him from us!\"\n\nMessire Gawain draweth from over the knight and cometh toward his\nhorse, and right fain would he have let the knight live had it\nnot been for the damsels. For the knight crieth him mercy and\nMessire Gawain had right great pity of him. Howbeit the damsels\ncry to him; \"And you slay him not, the evil custom will not be\noverthrown.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" saith the younger damsel, \"And you would slay him, smite\nhim in the sole of his foot with your sword, otherwise will he\nnot die yet.\"\n\n\"Damsel,\" saith the knight, \"Your love of me is turned to shame!\nNever more ought knight to set affiance nor love on damsel. But\nGod keep the other that they be not such as you!\"\n\nMessire Gawain marvelleth at this that the damsel saith to him,\nand draweth him back, and hath great pity of the knight, and\ncometh to the other side whither the horses were gone, and taketh\nthe saddle of the knight that was dead and setteth it on his own\nhorse and draweth him away. And the wounded knight was\nremounted, for the dwarf had helped him, and fleeth toward the\nforest a great gallop. And the damsels cry out, \"Messire Gawain,\nyour pity will be our death this day! For the Knight without\nPity is gone for succour, and if he escape, we shall be dead and\nyou also!\"\n\nXII.\n\nThereupon Messire Gawain leapeth on his horse and taketh a spear\nthat was leaning against the tent and followeth the knight in\nsuch sort that he smiteth him to the ground. Afterward he saith\nto him: \"No further may you go!\"\n\n\"That grieveth me,\" saith the knight, \"For before night should I\nhave been avenged of you and of the damsels.\"\n\nAnd Messire Gawain draweth his sword and thrusteth it into the\nsole of his foot a full palm's breadth, and the knight stretcheth\nhimself forth and dieth. And Messire Gawain returneth back, and\nthe damsels make great joy of him and tell him that never\notherwise could the evil custom have been done away. For, and he\nhad gone his way, all would have been to begin over again, for he\nis of such kind seeing that he was of the kindred of Achilles,\nand that all his ancestors might never otherwise die. And\nMessire Gawain alighteth, and the damsels would have searched the\nwound in his side, and he telleth them that he taketh no heed\nthereof.\n\n\"Sir,\" say they, \"Again do we proffer you our service, for well\nwe know that you are a good knight. Take for your lady-love\nwhich of us you will.\"\n\n\"Gramercy, damsel,\" saith Messire Gawain, \"Your love do I refuse\nnot and to God do I commend you.\"\n\n\"How?\" say the damsels, \"Will you go your way thus? Certes,\nmeeter were it to-day for you to sojourn in this tent and be at\nease.\"\n\n\"It may not be,\" saith he, \"for leisure have I none to abide\nhere.\"\n\n\"Let him go!\" saith the younger, \"for the falsest knight is he of\nthe world.\"\n\n\"By my head,\" saith the elder, \"it grieveth me that he goeth, for\nstay would have pleased me well.\"\n\nTherewithal Messire Gawain departeth and is remounted on his\nhorse. Then he entereth into the forest.",
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  }
}