From Sir Gawain and the Green Knight - anthology. This excerpt from the famous Arthurian tale Sir Gawain and the Green Knight focuses on the flirtations of the lady of the castle and on Sir Gawain's resistance to her temptations. Gawain is careful to maintain a chaste relationship between himself and the lady, in keeping with the virtuous and dutiful conduct that befits a knight; yet he is equally careful not to offend her in his rejections. At the end of this excerpt, Sir Gawain accepts a gift from the lady, a sash, which is a protection from death. The irony is that though he was chivalrous in accepting something from her, he was also cowardly in not facing danger without the magical help of the sash. This poem was originally written in Old English and has since been translated into modern English. From Sir Gawain and the Green Knight Part III, pp. 37-39 Anonymous Translated by Marie Borroff ...For that high-born beauty so hemmed him about, Made so plain her meaning, the man must needs Either take her tendered love or distastefully refuse. His courtesy concerned him, lest crass he appear, But more his soul's mischief, should he commit sin And belie his loyal oath to the lord of the house. "God forbid!" said the bold knight, "That shall not befall!" With a little fond laughter he lightly let pass All the words of special weight that were sped his way; "I find you much at fault," the fair one said, "Who can be cold toward a creature so close by your side, Of all women in this world most wounded in heart, Unless you have a sweetheart, one you hold dearer, And allegiance to that lady so loyally knit That you will never love another, as now I believe. And, sir, if it be so, then say it, I beg you; By all your heart holds dear, hide it no longer With guile." "Lady, by Saint John," He answers with a smile, Lover have I none, Nor will have, yet awhile." Those words," said the woman, "are the worst of all, But I have had my answer, and hard do I find it! Kiss me now kindly; I can but go hence To lament my life long like a maid lovelorn." She inclines her head quickly and kisses the knight, Then straightens with a sigh, and says as she stands, "Now, dear, ere I depart, do me this pleasure: Give me some little gift, your glove or the like, That I may think on you, man, and mourn the less." "Now by heaven," said he, "I wish I had here My most precious possession, to put it in your hands, For your deeds, beyond doubt, have often deserved A repayment far passing my power to bestow. But a love-token, lady, were of little avail; It is not to your honor to have at this time A glove as a guerdon from Gawain's hand, And I am here on an errand in unknown realms And have no bearers with baggage with becoming gifts, With distresses me, madame, for your dear sake. A man must keep within his compass: account it neither grief Nor slight." "Nay, noblest knight alive," Said that beauty of body white, "Though you be loath to give, Yet you shall take, by right." She reached out a rich ring, wrought all of gold, With a splendid stone displayed on the band That flashed before his eyes like a fiery sun; It was worth a king's wealth, you may well believe. But he waved it away with these ready words: "Before God, good lady, I forego all gifts; None have I to offer, nor any will I take." And she urged it on him eagerly, and ever he refused, And vowed in very earnest, prevail she would not. And she sad to find it so, and said to him then, "If my ring is refused for its rich cost You would not be my debtor for so dear a thing-- I shall give you my girdle; you gain less thereby." She released a knot lightly, and loosened a belt That was caught about her kirtle, the bright cloak beneath, Of a gay green silk, with gold overwroght, And the borders all bound with embroidery fine, And this she presses upon him, and pleads with a smile, Unworthy though it were, that it would not be scorned. But the man still maintains that he means to accept Neither gold nor any gift, till by God's grace The fate that lay before him was fully achieved. "And be not offended, fair lady, I beg, And give over your offer, for ever I must Decline. I am grateful for favor shown Past all deserts of mine, And ever shall be your own True servant, rain or shine." "Now does my present displease you," she promptly inquired, "Because it seems in your sight so simple a thing? And belike, as it is little, it is less to praise, But if the virtue that invests it were verily known, It would be held, I hope, in higher esteem. For the man that possesses this piece of silk, If he bore it on his body, belted about, There is no hand under heaven that could hew him down, For he could not be killed by any craft on earth." Then the man began to muse, and mainly he thought It was a pearl for his plight, the peril to come When he gains the Green Chapel to get his reward: Could he escape unscathed, the scheme were noble! Then he bore with her words and withstood them no more, And she repeated her petition and pleaded anew, And he granted it, and gladly she gave him the belt, And besought him for her sake to conceal it well, Lest the noble lord should know--and the knight agrees That not a soul save themselves shall see it thenceforth With sight. He thanked her with fervent heart, As often as ever he might; Three times, before they part, She has kissed the stalwart knight. Source: Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Translated by Borroff, Marie. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1967.
