Morien: A Metrical Romance Rendered into English Prose from the Mediæval Dutch

by Jessie L. Weston

But Sir Gawain, who marked this not, went smiting blow after blow on all that came nigh him, and so blinded and drave them backward with his strokes that he was left alone on the field. So weary and so weak were they that they lay all along the road, discomfited, prone on the earth, as those who have sore need of rest. But few of them were whole, for Sir Gawain had so wounded them that men may well tell the tale from now even unto Doomsday!

Then thought Sir Gawain within himself, since he had so long wielded his weapons and no man durst withstand him further he might find no better counsel than to fare on his way. He thanked God of true heart that he had thus won honour on this evil folk, and that he had escaped with his life, and free from mortal wound, he and his steed, and that God had thus protected them. Men say oft, and 'tis true, as was here well proven, that he who recks not of his ways, but doeth that which is displeasing alike to God and to the world, he was born in an evil hour.

Now when Sir Gawain had won the fight, and God had shown him favour by granting him good knighthood and the discomfiting of his foes, the day was well past nones, and Sir Gawain, the bold, had neither eaten nor drunk, nor done aught save fight that day and receive great blows. He rode on his way sore perplexed and unknowing where he might seek for lodging. So long did he ride that he was ware how it drew towards evening, and therewith did he behold a castle. Never was a man more oppressed with hunger and thirst and weariness; and he thought in his heart that he could do naught better than ride thither, and see if by hap he might find lodging for the night.

He found by the castle moat the lord of that burg and many of his folk with him; when he had dismounted on the turf he greeted them courteously, and the lord answered "God reward ye."

Quoth Sir Gawain, "Were it your command, and your will and pleasure, right gladly would I abide here within this night! I know not otherwise how I may win shelter. I have ridden all this day, and have seen naught save wilderness and waste land, and there found I no man with whom I might abide the night."

And the host spake, "So may good befall me in soul and body as I shall give to you in friendship, even to the uttermost, all that belongeth unto this even; lodging will I give ye, and food, ham and venison. My lodging is ever free, and ne'er refused to any knight who would fain be my guest. He hath safe conduct, good and sure, against all whom he may meet in this land, were it against mine own son, whom I love above all who own the laws of knighthood. My safe conduct is so well assured that whosoe'er should wrong my guest it should cost him his life and all that he had, had he not more than good fortune! This on my knighthood and by the Blessed Maid, Our Lady!"

But Sir Gawain, the Father of Adventure, who was wont to be received with honour, wist not that the knight whom he had slain was son to the lord of the castle. Now first shall ye hear of marvellous adventures whereof some be good and some evil.

Sir Gawain had come to that point that he deemed he was well assured of shelter for the night, nor was he on guard against his heavy mischance. The host, who would do his guest all honour, took the knight by the hand, and led him through three portals into a fair hall where he was received with courteous words. They disarmed him straightway, and stabled his steed right well. The host bade them take in ward Sir Gawain's armour and his sword; too far did they carry them! For that was he vexed and wrathful, and he would not it had so chanced for all his host's halls, were they of wroughten gold! For as they sat at table and ate and drank and had enow of all the earth might bear for the sustenance of man, and forgat thereby all sorrow, they heard sore wailing and lamentation, and the smiting together of hands, and knew not what it might mean. They heard folk who stood without the walls, at the master gate, who cried with loud voice, "Alas, alas! Undo and let us in!"

Then Sir Gawain's mood was changed, and his heart forbade him that sorrow and mischief drew near. He changed colour and grew red. The lord gave command from within that they should ask what company stood without, and what tidings they bare. Then they sprang to the gate, and opened it, even as their lord bade.

Then came they in, who stood without, bearing a bier, and making so great cry and lamentation that men heard it far and near through the open doorways. So came they into the hall, a great company of folk, and cried with a loud voice to the lord of the castle, "Alas, master, here lieth dead the best knight that one might find in the wide world, even your dear son. There liveth not his like on earth, so strong, so bold, so skilled in valiant deeds!"