The king went ahead, as one wise and courteous, and spake gently, “Kay, hast thou come from far? Has mischance befallen thee?” and Kay, who was ever sharp and ready of tongue, answered, “Sire, let me be; ye have naught wherewith to reproach me. I have vanquished one of their knights, but he hath taken my horse; the field is mine, for I have conquered it; and he who hath ridden hence hath the worse!” All held their peace, and laughed not.
“Sir, are ye in need of help?” quoth Tor fis Ares. And then the others spake; “Seneschal, are ye wounded?” “Methinks ye limp somewhat,” quoth Sir Gawain.
“Kay, hand me your shield,” said Sir Ywain. “Right valiantly have ye approved yourself, marvellous were the blows I saw ye deal! God be thanked that ye did thus well!” With that he took the shield, and hung it around his own neck. Each joined in the sport as best he might, and Kay was right well aware thereof.
Then he spake to Sir Ywain, “Sir, I will grant ye to-morrow so much as I have won to-day, the joust and the field shall ye have in exchange for my shield which ye bear. Ye can do well, an ye will, and I were fain to repay ye in such wise as I may.”
Those who heard might not refrain their mirth, and in merry mood they led him to the tent, and disarmed him, and the lord of Lys said, “Sir Kay, ye passed the boundary of the four olive trees, and he who first passes betwixt them is held for vanquished.” And Kay answered, “May be, Sir, by the faith I owe the King of Heaven an ye know the differ ’twixt entry and exit ’tis more than I may do; sure, ’tis all one, for there where one cometh in the other goeth out!”
Suddenly there rang forth from the castle and the minster a peal so great and glad that ye might scarce hear God thunder, and the king asked wherefore the bells rang thus.
Then Bran de Lis spake, “I will tell ye, Sire: ’tis Saturday to-day, and now that noon be past they within will do naught against ye, come what may. In this land is the Mother of God more honoured than elsewhere in Christendom; know of a truth that ye shall presently see knights and ladies, burgesses and other folk, clad in their best, betake them to the minster; they go to hear Vespers, and do honour to Our Lady. Thus it is from noon on Saturday till Tierce on Monday, when Mass is sung, and the bells chimed throughout the burg, then they get them to their tasks again; the minstrels and other folk. I tell ye without fail till then shall no joust be ridden; to-morrow, an ye will, ye may go forth to hunt in the forest.”
The king praised the custom much, and spent the night with a light heart until the morn, when he arose, and with his knights betook him to the woods, and all day long the forest rang to the sound of the huntsman’s horn.
Now it chanced that Sir Gawain beheld a great stag, which two of his hounds had severed from the rest of the herd, and he followed hard after the chase till that the quarry was pulled down in a clearing. There he slew and quartered it, and gave their portion to the dogs, but would take with him naught save the back and sides. So he rode on fairly, and without annoy, the hounds running ahead, till, as he went his way, he heard nigh at hand a hawk cry loudly. Then he turned him quickly towards the sound, and came on to a wide and dusky path, and followed it speedily to a dwelling, the fairest he had found in any land wherein he had sojourned.
’Twas set in the midst of a clearing, and no wish or thought of man might devise aught that was lacking unto it. There was a fair hall and a strong tower, ’twas set round about with palisades, and there was a good drawbridge over the moat, which was wide enow, and full of running water. At the entry of the bridge was a pine-tree, and beneath, on a fair carpet, sat a knight; never had ye seen one so tall, or so proud of bearing.