Chapter 2

But now will we be silent on their lamentations, and tell henceforth of Sir Gawain and Sir Lancelot, who rode both on their way.

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The adventure doeth us to wit that in the morning, so soon as it was day, they rode forth together through many a waste land, over many a heath and high hill, adown many a valley to seek Sir Perceval, but little did it profit them, for of him might they learn naught. Thus were they sorely vexed.

On the ninth day there came riding towards them a knight on a goodly steed, and well armed withal. He was all black, even as I tell ye: his head, his body, and his hands were all black, saving only his teeth. His shield and his armour were even those of a Moor, and black as a raven. He rode his steed at full gallop, with many a forward bound. When he beheld the knights, and drew nigh to them, and the one had greeted the other, he cried aloud to Sir Lancelot: "Knight, now give me to wit of one thing which I desire, or guard ye against my spear. The truth will I know. I shall tell ye herewith my custom; what knight soever I may meet, were he stronger than five men, and I knew it well, yet would I not hold my hand for fear or favour, but he should answer me, or I should fight against him. Now, Sir Knight, give me answer, by your troth, so truly as ye know, to that which I shall ask ye, and delay not, otherwise may ye well rue it!"

Quoth Sir Lancelot: "I were liefer dead than that a knight should force me to do that to which I had no mind--so were the shame equal. Hold to your custom an ye will; I were more fain to fight than to let ye be, if but to fell your pride. I ask naught but peace, yet will I chastise your discourtesy, or die in that will!"

The Moor, who was wroth with Sir Lancelot, abode not still, but reined back his steed, and laid his spear in rest as one who was keen to fight. Sir Gawain drew on one side, since the twain would fight, and thought in himself, as was right and courteous, that it were folly, and the custom of no good knight, for twain to fall on one man, since life stood not at stake. 'Twere time enough for him to take hand therein, and stand by his comrade, did he see him hard pressed. Therefore stood Sir Gawain still, as one who had no mind to fight, nor to break the laws of courtesy. Nevertheless he deemed that this was a devil rather than a man whom they had come upon! Had they not heard him call upon God no man had dared face him, deeming that he was the devil or one of his fellows out of hell, for that his steed was so great, and he was taller even than Sir Lancelot, and black withal, as I said afore.

Thus came the two together, the Moor and Sir Lancelot; each had a great spear and brake it in two, as a reed, yet neither felled the other, but each abode upon his steed. Then each drew his sword from its sheath, and set to work therewith, and of a sooth, had not God Himself so willed it both had died there; so mighty were their strokes that by right no man should escape alive. Had it been midnight, and dark as night is wont to be, yet had ye seen the grass and the flowers by the light of the sparks that flew so thick from helmet and sword and fell upon the earth. The smith that wrought their weapons I say he wrought them not amiss, he merited a fairer reward than Arthur ever gave to any man for such desert.

The knight and Sir Lancelot, neither would yield to the other till Sir Gawain parted them by his prayer, and made them withdraw each from the other, for great pity he deemed it should either there be slain; yet so fell were the blows that they smote, and so great their wrath withal, that he saw well did the strife endure but short while longer they had received such wounds as should be the death of one, or it might well be of both.

When Sir Gawain had parted the twain, whom he saw to be weary enow, he spake to the Moor: "'Tis an ill custom this to which ye are given; ye shall here renounce it. Had ye but asked in courteous wise that which ye have a mind to know, this knight had hearkened, and had answered ye of right goodwill; he had not refused, that do I know well. Ye be both rash and foolish, and one of the twain, ye, or he, shall lose by it, and from that do I dissent, an ye show me not better reason therefore."

Quoth the Moor: "How come ye to speak thus to me? Wot ye that I be afraid to fight against the twain of ye; or that I have held my hand through fear of death? Were the one of ye Sir Lancelot, and the other King Arthur's sister's son (these twain are wont to be praised above all in Arthur's court as I have ofttimes heard, though never have I seen them), yet would I not yield a foot to them!"

Then thought Sir Gawain with himself, "We were foolish and unwise an we failed to show courtesy to one who praises us so highly."

But Sir Lancelot had great lust either to win the fight or to play it to a loss, and Sir Gawain, who was well ware of this, prayed him straitly, by the love he bare to him, and to King Arthur his lord, that for their honour he should hold his peace awhile, and let him say his will: "And this I charge ye, by the faith ye owe to my lady, my uncle's wife."

Sir Lancelot spake: "Of a sooth, an ye had not thus charged me I should have avenged myself or here been slain, in that this knight forced the strife upon me without cause, and loaded me with blows; but in that ye so conjure me, I am he that will harm no man for profit to myself save that he first attack me. And since it seemeth good to ye I will e'en lay the strife in respite. God grant me good counsel therein, since I do it not for cowardice, but for love of ye and for your prayer."

Thus stood the three in the open, and Sir Gawain spake to the Moor: "Ye be foolish in that ye do such things--now, neither we nor ye are harmed, yet might ye lightly do that which should cost ye your life. Tell me what ye seek, and I will give ye good counsel withal. If I may I shall tell ye that which ye should courteously have asked of this knight, who never yet was so hardly bestead by any man that he fell from his steed."

Quoth the Moor: "Ye say well. Now I pray ye by all who own the laws of knighthood, and by Sir Gawain afore all, since he is reckoned the best, he and Sir Lancelot, wherever it may be, in whatever need, far and wide throughout the world, of all men are these twain most praised (I myself know naught save that which I have heard tell), know ye aught of Sir Agloval, brother to Sir Perceval of Wales? Of him have I asked many, this long while past; I have ridden hither and thither this half year, and here and there have I sought him. For this have I dared many a peril, and here will I lie dead save that ye twain tell me, in friendship or in fight, if ye know aught of Sir Agloval. Now have we had enow of this talk; 'tis full time ye answer, or we take up our strife once again, and see the which of us hath the sooner his full."

Sir Gawain hearkened, and smiled at the black knight's speech, and spake soothfastly: "Now tell me what ye will of Sir Agloval that ye thus seek him, and thereafter will I tell ye that which I know."

And the Moor answered straightway: "So will I tell ye all. Sir Agloval is my father, 'twas he begat me. And more will I tell ye; it chanced aforetime as ye may now learn, when he came into the land of the Moors; there through his valiant deeds he won the heart of a maiden, she was my mother, by my troth. So far went the matter between them through their words and through his courtesy, and because he was so fair to look upon, that she gave him all his will--the which brought her small reward, and great sorrow. Each plighted their troth to the other ere she granted him her favours. Therein was she ill-counselled, for he forsook her thereafter--'tis more than fourteen years past; and when he parted from her she bare me, though he knew it not. He told her his quest, whereof he was sore troubled, and how it came about that he must needs leave her, and that will I now tell ye. My father was seeking a noble knight, who was lost as at that time, and who was hight Sir Lancelot. Still more may I tell ye; he told my mother that he and many of his fellows had sworn a great oath to seek Sir Lancelot, and their quest should endure two years or more an they found him not, or could learn no tidings of him. Nor should they tarry in any land more than one night or two. This vexed my father sorely, that for this cause, and to keep his oath, he must needs leave my mother. But ere he departed he sware to her that he would return when he had achieved his quest; but he kept not his oath. Thus have I sought him in many a court. All this did my lady mother tell me, and also of the troth-plight. Little good hath it done me that he be my father, and that he sware to my mother, ere he departed, that for her honour, and for her profit, he would return to her without fail. Doth he live, God send him mocking (this I pray in all humility), but an he be already dead, then may God forgive him his sins. I and my mother are disinherited, since that he hath deserted us, of great goods and of a fair heritage, that which fell to her from her father have we lost altogether. It hath been denied us by the law of the land. Thereto was I greatly shamed, for they called me fatherless, and I could shew naught against it, nor tell them who it was that begat me, since my father had thus fled. So did I cause myself to be dubbed knight, and sware a great oath (I were loth to break it) that never should I meet a knight but I would fight him, or he should tell me if he perchance knew any tidings of my father, that I might learn somewhat concerning him. Did I meet mine own brother, I would not break mine oath, nor my vow; and till now have I kept it well, nor broken it by my default. And here would I bid ye twain, if ye would part from me in friendship, that ye tell me what ye may know thereof, out and out, by your troth, and therewith end this talk. Otherwise let us end this matter even as we began it, for there liveth no knight under the sun for whom I would break mine oath, were it for my hurt, or for my profit."

Then was there neither of the twain, Sir Gawain nor Sir Lancelot, but the tears fell from their eyes when they heard the knight's tale. Such pity had they for him, they waxed pale, and red, and discovered their faces, when they heard his plaint.

Quoth Sir Lancelot: "By my good days, nevermore will I be wrathful, nor bear rancour against ye for any lack of courtesy; ye need no longer stand on guard against me, my heart is not evil towards ye, and we will counsel ye well."

Then was the black knight blithe, and drew near to Sir Lancelot, and bared his head, which was black as pitch; that was the fashion of his land--Moors are black as burnt brands. But in all that men would praise in a knight was he fair; after his kind. Though he were black, what was he the worse? In him was naught unsightly; he was taller by half a foot than any knight who stood beside him, and as yet was he scarce more than a child! It pleased him so well when he heard them speak thus of Sir Agloval that he knelt him straightway on the earth; but Sir Gawain raised him up, and told him their tidings, how they were but as messengers, and belonged to the court of King Arthur, which was of high renown, and that they rode at that time seeking Sir Perceval and Sir Agloval, since the king desired them both. "And his mind is to see and speak with them; may we by any means persuade those noble knights we shall return straightway to the king's court, an it be so that they will ride with us (further will we not vaunt ourselves, 'tis of our good will, and their pleasure), thereby shall the king be the more honoured. They belong to the Round Table, and have done so of long time; both are of the king's court, and knights of high renown. Now an ye will work wisely, and shun your own harm, ye will mount, and ride to King Arthur's court, and delay not. I hope in God that Sir Agloval shall come thither within short space, or that ye shall hear tidings of him; for there come full oft tidings from afar. Go ye to court without tarrying, the king will receive ye well. Tell him, and give him to wit who ye be, and whence ye come, and the quest upon which ye ride; he will not let ye depart ere we come and bring with us your father, an God prosper us. Should ye ride thus through the land, and fight with every knight whom ye may meet, ye will need great good fortune to win every conflict without mischance or ill-hap! They who will be ever fighting, and ne'er avoid a combat, an they hold such custom for long, though at whiles they escape, yet shall they find their master, who will perforce change their mood! Now Sir Knight do our bidding, for your own honour's sake, and ride ye to court; grant us this grace, for ere ye have abode long time there I hope that ye shall behold your father or receive tidings of him. But till that time abide ye at the court, there shall ye be well at ease in many ways. Now promise us this; we shall seek your father, and may we find him, and God give us honour in our quest, then will we return as swiftly as may be, and rejoice ye and the king!"

When the Moor heard these words he laughed with heart and mouth (his teeth were white as chalk, otherwise was he altogether black), and he spake, "God our Father reward ye, noble knights, for the good will and the honour ye have done me, and also for the great comfort wherewith ye have lightened mine heart that long hath been all too heavy. An my steed fail me not I shall ride whither ye bid me to this king whom ye praise so highly."

With that he pledged to the knights hand and knighthood, and called God to witness that he would do their bidding, faithfully, and without dispute, so long as he might live.

Then quoth Sir Lancelot: "Knight, an ye be in any need, when ye come into Arthur's land,--I ween 'tis all unknown to ye,--speak but of us twain whom ye see here and men shall do ye naught but honour and courtesy, where'er ye come, in any place. And when ye come to the king, ere ye tell him aught beside, say that ye have seen and have spoken with us; and trow me, without fail, ye shall be well received!" The Moor spake: "'Tis well said--God reward ye for this courtesy; but were it your will and pleasing to ye that I knew the names of ye two then i'sooth were I the blither withal!"

Then straightway Sir Gawain did him to wit who they were, and how they were hight; and the Moor made no delay, but fell on his knees before them. Sir Gawain raised him up, but the Moor laid his hands together and spake, "God the Father of all, and Ruler of the World, grant that I may amend my misdoing to your honour. Sir Lancelot, very dear lord, I own myself right guilty, for I did evil, and naught else!"

Sir Gawain spake: "Take ye not to heart that which has here chanced, it shall be naught the worse for ye."

Sir Gawain and Sir Lancelot were both mounted upon their steeds. The Moor spake: "'Tis labour lost. Such good knights as ye be, since ye at this time fare to seek my father, by the power of our Lord I will not stay behind; 'twere shame an I did. I shall ride with ye twain!"

Quoth Sir Gawain: "Then must ye lay aside all outrageousness, and ride peaceably on your way, and whatever knight shall meet ye, and greet ye courteously, him shall ye greet and let pass on his way without strife or contention; and be his friend an he hath done ye no wrong--this do I counsel ye straitly. But he that is fierce and fell towards ye or towards another, on him shall ye prove your prowess, and humble his pride, if ye may. And honour all women, and keep them from shame, first and last, as best ye may. Be courteous and of gentle bearing to all ye meet who be well-mannered toward ye, and he who hath no love for virtue against him spare neither sword, nor spear, nor shield!"

The Moor spake: "Since that ye will it so, I will at your bidding forbear, otherwise might I rue it! May God be gracious to me."

So rode they all three together till they came to a parting of the ways where stood a fair cross, and thereon letters red as blood. Sir Gawain was learned in clerkly lore, he read the letters wherein was writ that here was the border of Arthur's land, and let any man who came to the cross, and who bare the name of knight, bethink him well, since he might not ride far without strife and conflict, and the finding of such adventures as might lightly turn to his harm, or even to his death--the land was of such customs.

This did Sir Gawain tell to the twain. Then they saw, by the parting of the ways, a hermit's cell, fairly builded, and the knights bethought them that they would turn them thither that they might hear and see, and know what the words boded.

There saw they the hermit, who seemed to them a right good man; and they dismounted at his little window, and asked his tidings, if perchance a knight in red armour had passed that way? And the good man answered and said 'twas but the other day, afore noon, that he had seen two knights who were wondrous like unto each other. "Of a truth it seemed to me, by their features and by their gestures, that they should be brothers. Their steeds seemed beyond measure weary. They came that self-same road that cometh from that land that men here call Britain; they were both in seeming men of might, and the one had steed and armour that were even red as blood. They dismounted, both of them, at the foot of that cross ye see there. There many a judgment is given. There did a knight lose his life, he and his wife with him; well did they deserve that their memory should be held in honour by the friends of our Lord, for they made a right good ending! They had sought the shrine of a saint, with them they had money and steeds, beside other goods, as befitted folk of high degree. Here did they fall in with a company of robbers, who slew the good knight, and took his steed and his money, and all that he had. Of this was his wife so sorrowful that for grief and woe her heart brake, and so did they die here, the twain of them, even at the cross roads, where ye see the fair cross, where now many a judgment is spoken. 'Twas made through the knight's will. Hither come folk stripped and bare-foot, doing penance for their sins; and they who pass ahorse or afoot have here had many a prayer granted. The knights of whom ye ask did there their orisons, as well became them, but I may not tell ye whither they went at their departing; in sooth I know naught, for I said my prayers here within and forgat them. But they were tall and strong, and the one wore red armour, and the other bare the badge of King Arthur."

Then were the knights sorely grieved, and kindled as a coal for sorrow, in that they might not know, by any craft, whitherward they rode. Then they asked the manner of the land, and whither led the roads which they saw before them.

Then answered the good hermit, "I will tell ye as best I may. The road by which ye came, that do ye know; and the road that runneth straight therefrom that will ye shun, an ye heed my counsel. 'Tis a land of ill-fame, where men follow evil customs; their best, 'tis but others' worst! He who will keep his horse, his weapons and his life will shun that road. And the right-hand way goeth to a wild waste land, wherein no man dwelleth; an I bethink me well 'tis over a year and a day since I saw man or woman come from thence. An it so befall that ye fare thitherward ye shall find such a marvel that would ye dare the venture, and amend the wrong it shall cost ye life and limb, that do I tell ye here. For there shall ye find the most fell beast ever man heard or read of; take ye good heed thereof, 'tis the Foul Fiend himself, that know I well, that roameth in the guise of a beast. Against him may no weapon serve, there was never spear so sharp nor sword so well tempered, as I know of a truth, that may harm that devil, but it will break or bend as hath full oft been proven in time past. Now hath the beast chosen his dwelling in a little forest, there will he abide all night, but the day he prowleth by straight and winding ways. He devoureth man and beast alike, nor may I tell ye the marvels I have heard concerning him. He hath laid waste a broad land, and driven thereout all the country-folk, so that none remain. Now have I told ye the truth concerning these two roads, and what may befall ye therein; for the third, it leadeth hereby to the sea coast; I know not what I may say more."

Quoth Sir Lancelot: "By the Lord who made me, Sir Gawain, we must needs depart from each other here and now, would we find these knights. And I will dare that which I deem the most perilous venture. Ye shall ride straightway whichever road ye will, otherwise shall we lose the knights who were lately here, they shall not have ridden far as yet. And if it be that ye find them, then I charge and conjure ye, by my will and your valour, that if ye may, ye shall bring them with ye and return hither to this place. Do this, Sir Knight, for my prayer. And do the hermit to wit how matters have gone with ye, that he may tell me the truth thereof if peradventure I too come hither, and the knight shall go with ye, and God keep ye both since we be now come to this point. Do him honour as a good man and true, in whatsoever place ye may be, this I pray ye of your valour."

Sir Gawain gave him answer: "Dear comrade, I am fain to do your bidding, and may God keep us in life and limb, and in worldly honour. Now choose ye first which road ye will take, for here will we abide no longer."

Then said Sir Lancelot: "I ween that 'tis the most pressing need to go fight against the beast whereof the good man telleth us; methinks 'twere well that I ride thither."

And the hermit answered: "Alas, Sir Knight, ye be so fair that I deem below the throne one might scarce find your equal, and will ye brave a venture which no man may achieve! The folk hath fled out of the land, none may withstand that beast, no shaft is so fell as the venom which he shooteth on all who near him; and the man whom it reacheth, and upon whom it shall light (I am he who lieth not), he dieth ere the third day be past, had he never a wound upon him. This hath been the worse for many. Then is the beast greater than a horse, and runneth more swiftly than any horse may. Ye are wise an ye shun the fiend. This do I tell ye beforehand. Had he not chosen his lair, and did he wander from the land, as well might be, by the Lord who made us he had laid the world waste! Ye would do well to turn back."

But 'twas labour lost; not for all the riches that belonged to King Arthur would he have taken back his word and his covenant, for any prayer that might be made him, nor have yielded aught through fear.

Then would the knights take leave of each other that they might depart. The Moor spake to the twain: "For what do ye take me? Am I a lesser or a weaker man than either of ye that Sir Gawain must needs ride with me? I will not have it so. There is no knight so bold but I dare well withstand him. I know well what is unfitting. Now say whither ye will betake ye, and send me what road ye will; I will dare the venture, be it never so perilous. By my knighthood, and by all who follow Christendom, I shall adventure alone, and take that which may chance."