The Anturs of Arther

A Middle English Romance

Paraphrased by Giles Watson

2012

Introduction: Very little is known about the author of the Anturs indeed, it is even possible that there was more than one author but much can be surmised. There is evidence that the anonymous poet was orthodox in religion, and particularly keen to promote the value of masses for the dead, but also that he or very possibly she had access to a vernacular translation of the Gospel of John. She let us be decisive believed in Purgatory, and subscribed to the common mediaeval notion that ghosts were the spirits of sinners who desired release. She had a spiritual point to make: too many knights succumb to the sins of pride and luxury, and their violent ways are not as laudable as they are made to seem in other romances but at the same time, she delighted in describing regal costumes and occasions, and revelled in her portrayals of the bloodthirstiness of hand-to-hand combat. She had little time for kings, and preferred to model her Arthur on the chronicles rather than on other romances. She had almost certainly read the better-known Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and her own Gawain is equally conscientious, and equally prone to acts of violence inspired by his sense of duty towards his king. Most importantly, whilst she chose to write in a genre which traditionally celebrated the deeds of men, she was clearly more interested in the minds of women. Her Gwinevere (Gaynore) is a sympathetic character: sensitive, prepared to admit her own weaknesses, seemingly more devoted to Sir Gawaine than to her husband, and most importantly, capable of manipulating the latter into making merciful decisions which he would never have made on his own. Her attitude seems to be mirrored by that of the unnamed woman who is described as the lover of Gawaines foe in battle: a woman prepared to humble herself at Gaynores feet in order to save the life of the man she loves. Only Gawaine himself can compete with the complexity of these female characters: he is a knight who is prepared to admit that deeds of arms often bring misery, and yet, when his king requires someone to bear arms in his name, Gawaine is the only knight to volunteer. Yet none of these characters are so memorable as the ghost of Gaynores mother: a half-decomposed corpse with a message from Purgatory. She comes to convict Gaynore of her pride, but also to plead with her daughters to arrange for propitiatory masses to be said in chantry chapels across the land, so that her soul can be released. Of all of the characters, she is the only one whose own utterances dominate a significant section of the poem, and the description of her decaying corpse which is not without its comic element is deliberately juxtaposed with the descriptions of the pomp and finery of Arthurs courtiers. Nor is it accidental that she makes her appearance at the time of the hunt, when the pretensions of the rich are most blatantly displayed. She is a mini-masterpiece: selfconsistent, compelling, and described with an economy which spurs the imagination. She is also the vehicle of the poets own opinions

about chivalry: its knights are mostly self-serving, its rituals are vanity, its obsession with riches and beauty is a diversion from the path of sanctity, and the supposedly ideal Christian king is a brutal conqueror whose pride will be subject to the worst judgement of all: he will die at the hands of his own bastard son. Critics have charged the author of the Anturs with a lack of originality. The whole second half of the poem, wrote F.J. Amours, is nothing but one of the stock stories so common in the Round Table cycle. An unknown knight, often with a companion, enters the hall where the king is seated in state, declares that he has a grievance, and offers to settle the matter with the bravest knight present. The challenge is accepted... often by Gawain himself... the stranger is usually defeated, and receives afterwards some compensating reward from Arthur.1 Amours is right: this part of the romance draws on a stock story but he entirely misses its satirical purpose. The unknown knight has been robbed of his lands because of King Arthurs rapaciousness, and the direct beneficiary of this injustice is Gawaine himself. The unknown knights companion is the woman whose voice of humility and mercy will save a life. Gawaine, who was so quick to admit the faults of knighthood in the presence of the ghost, only comes to admit that he himself has benefited from injustice after he has brought his enemy to within an inch of his life, and has been shamed into relenting by the pleadings of two women. The real victim of this lapse in judgement is Gawaines own horse, slain in the heat of the battle. At the beginning and the end of the poem, animals are the incidental sufferers as knights resolutely pursue the ideals and assumptions condemned by the ghost. The Anturs of Arther is an anti-romance. Even its name is satirical, for Arthurs adventures consist of hunting some harmless does, deputising one of his most gifted courtiers to do some fighting for him, and eventually, giving in to his wifes plea for mercy when all of this brutality becomes too hard to bear. In the late fifteenth century, chivalry was often satirised in marginal decorations in manuscripts, and on misericords. Men and women joust with household implements, riding astride geese and chickens. The author of the Anturs is more serious in her approach, and her motivations are very likely more spiritual, but her purpose is not entirely didactic. She has a gift for characterisation, and for a fast-moving narrative. She may be scornful of chivalry, but she knows how to use rhythm and alliteration in order to bring a joust to life on a page, just as she knows how to adapt it in order to bring a corpse convincingly back from the dead. Perhaps she was a nun, keen to raise funds for a chantry chapel at which she offered prayers but her poem has an originality and an internal consistency which critics have been too hasty to deny.

F.J. Amours, Scottish Alliterative Poems, pp. lxxii-iii; cited in Maldwyn Mills (ed.), Ywain and Gawain, Sir Percyvell of Gales, The Anturs of Arther, Guernsey, 1992, p. xxvi. My paraphrase is based on the Middle English text in Mills book.

Plot Summary: At the close of the hunting season, King Arthurs retinue descend from the fells and prepare to herd the barren does into the hollows in order to slaughter them with bows and arrows. Sir Gawaine leads King Arthurs wife Gaynore down the track, when suddenly the woods are cast into darkness, and they are separated from their companions. Whilst Gawaine endeavours to explain away the phenomenon as a solar eclipse, a decayed, animated corpse appears before them. Gawaine observes that it is crawling with snakes and toads, and draws his sword to defend his queen. The ghost tells Gawaine that it is all that remains of Gaynores mother, and that it once was more beautiful even than its daughter, but is now a rotting corpse. It commands him to bring Gaynore into its presence, and when he obeys, it tells her that it is in Purgatory, and can only be redeemed by her prayers. Gaynore asks whether there is any hope for her mothers soul, and after giving a prescription for its own salvation, the ghost turns on Gaynore, accusing her of pride, and insisting that she too will suffer its fate, if she does not change her ways. Moreover, it suggests that King Arthur himself is doomed to destruction because of his pride, employing that favourite mediaeval metaphor, the Wheel of Fortune. Gawaine realises that if Gaynores sin is enough to send her to Hell, the sins of Arthurs knights are far worse. The ghost predicts that although Arthur and his knights have been victorious in France, defeating Gian in battle, Arthur himself will fall at the battle of Camlann on the River Tamar. She says that Gawaine will be in Tuscany at the time, but will rush to Arthurs aid when he hears the news, and will also be killed. The heraldic symbols on the usurping knights shield reveal him to be Mordred, currently still a boy in King Arthurs court. The ghost disappears, leaving Gawaine and Guinevere alone together, but King Arthurs knights take courage, because the darkness has gone, and lead Guinevere to Rondallsete, where dinner is prepared. King Arthur and his knights sit down to dinner, but it is interrupted by a woman, richly arrayed, leading a mounted knight. The knight identifies himself as Sir Galeron, defrauded of land by King Arthur land which has, ironically, been given to Gawaine and lays down his challenge. Arthur accepts it, but Gawaine marches into the hall, ready to champion his king, yet not without doing Galeron the courtesy of a nights hospitality first. Whilst Galeron rests in preparation for the next days jousting, King Arthur calls his lords together, and against his kings better judgement, Gawaine volunteers to fight Galeron. The two knights are led to the lists the next day, while Gaynore looks on, weeping. They spur their horses, and clash. Gawaines horse is killed, and when Galeron gallantly offers him one of his own, Gawaine is offended. They fight on foot, and both knights receive blows which threaten their lives, until, in a sudden reversal of fortune, Gawaine has Galeron in his grip, and is ready to choke him to death. It is left to Galerons lady, and to Gaynore, to plead for his life. The King pleads with Gawaine to spare Galerons life, offering him enormous swathes of land in return, and Gawaine relents, returning Galerons lands to him, and pledging his friendship. Once the wounds are healed, Galeron is made a knight of the Round Table and only then, Gaynore remembers her promise to the ghost of her mother, and sends letters commanding that her soul be remembered in myriad masses.

Part 1: The Hunt

n the time of Arthur, a tale was untwined2 Beside the Tarn Wathelan, as told in the book: To Carlisle he came, of the conquering kind, With knights and with nobles who hunt in the brakes Who harry the herd and on the deer dine, And drive the stags down the steep woodland bank Deep into the dells to herd with the hinds. When hunting was done the hart by the brook Both the king and the queen Came, and riding between, Gawain garbed in green, Led Gaynore down the track.

Gawain led Gaynore down green woodland rides In a glittering gown that gleamed so gay, All trimmed with bright ribbons so the tale reads Ribbons of red, and in richest array. Her hood of grey hue her shadowed head hides, In purples and silks stones glint in a spray And clad in a cloak the rain hardly heeds, Set with bright sapphires she rides on her way: Sapphires and celidonies stitched to her hems. 3
Sir Gawain was one of the stock figures of Arthurian Romance an apparently unassuming, self-critical figure whose true virtues become evident in testing times. His most famous appearance is in the alliterative poem in the Staffordshire dialect known as Sir Gawain and the Green Knight the work of a poet of consummate skill, translated in the past century by both J.R.R. Tolkien and Simon Armitage. The Anturs of Arther may be a dim reflection of that poems brilliance, but the opening section - in which Gawain, in his role as champion of his kings wife Gaynore (Guinevere), is confronted by the ghost of his Ladys mother, in a rather grisly guise is certainly compelling. Unlike the Gawain poet, who relies wholly on alliteration, the author of this poem has also adopted a tyrannical rhyme-scheme which sometimes feels forced, but which also lends the poem a relentless forward movement, and works particularly well in the passages which exploit black comedy. The sudden shifts in tense are dramatic devices which were commonly employed in mediaeval narratives, all of which were originally designed for listening audiences.
2

Her saddle is slick With jewels and silk And white as wet milk As gaily she glides. So Dame Gaynore the good how gaily she glides Down the glade with Gawain4, by a mossy green well5, And this man on his mount by the white queen abides, Burgundy-born, by book and by bell, And leads her a long way at the lakes lapping sides. By a lush laurel, at the foot of the fell. Arthur, earl-flanked, earnestly rides, And sets them their stations, truly to tell: Their trysts with the stags: by trees they abide. Each lord, on demand, By a trunk takes his stand6 With bow and with hound, Where the branches reach wide. And under the boughs, they bide brash and bold, To kill barren does on the hillsides so bare,7
Detailed descriptions of the sumptuous costumes and jewellery of the ladies of court were a common feature of chivalric romances, but in this instance, the author is emphasising their luxury for a different reason: the ghosts condemnation of pride will set Gaynores riches in a new perspective. 4 Throughout the poem, the author exploits this connection between Gaynore and Gawaine: they are clearly closer to each other than Gaynore can ever be to her husband. 5 The reference to the green well is one of several indications that the author was well-acquainted with the atmospheric devices of the earlier alliterative romance, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. 6 In other words, each knight waits beside a trysting tree: an appointed place towards which the beaters will chase the deer in order that they can be slain. Mediaeval poets were fond of the trysting tree as a metaphor for loves entrapment: the archetypal examples being the tryst beneath the tree between Tristan and Isolde and the tryst between Troilus and Cressida. 7 The poet is at pains to point out at the beginning that the action takes place at the end of the hunting season. All others have slaked their blood-lust, but the knights of Arthurs court are still thirsty for it. The intended killing of the does so rudely interrupted by the appearance of a female ghost is surely a sign of their rapaciousness.
3

And the men are amazed, the herds to behold, And hearken to hunting-horns, brazen their blare. They cast off their leashes, on cliffs so cold, Encourage their hounds to kill and not care, Culling the does, and in numbers untold, With hounds fell and feisty whose loping spells fear. As they sweat, pant and slaver, and paw on the mould8 They sniff and they kill By the woods and the hill. The deer in the dell All scatter and scare. And darkly the deer drift through the dim woods, And dreading her death, she cowers, the doe. Like rapids on rivers, and wild, rushing winds, Like boars that blare from their nostrils, and blow, The hunters, they hail, and their word wakes the wilds And rankles the horns that rise up from the Roe. No rest will they grant, and nature is riled Though greyhounds in green groves, gladly they go! Yes, gladly they go, under groves growing wild. The king calls the chase And they follow the trace At a cantering pace They would hunt the whole world! Yes, they surge in their sport, the seemliest knights, Seeking their sovereign, deep in the green, All but Sir Gawain, chivalrous knight, Who is wooded with Gaynore under the green:
8

This line is missing, so I have offered a reconstruction, marked in italics.

By the laurel they land, the leaves gleaming bright, By the box and the barberry9 soft was their sheen. In the bright of the light, an eye-splitting sight: A marvel of mid-day - a sight never seen! I quiver to contemplate! Glum grew the light The day grew as dark As midnights grim mirk. Even Arthur was irked In haste to dismount: On foot they all fled a coward each man They flew to the forest, they flew to the fells,10 The rain ran in runnels, they made wretched moans, Spurred on by snow like a harrowing of hell, Like flames from a lake, their hope undermined. Lucifer laughs, and in madness he hails, Laughing at Gaynore with lungs made of wind, And madly the mountains knelled with their yells. Their cheeks and their chestplates tear-wet and wild, They cried, We are cowed And our lady is cursed, Their fear spelled aloud:
There may well be significance in this botanical choice. The box has a distinctly foxy smell when the sun shines upon it: perhaps an inducement for the hunting instinct, but perhaps also indicating sexual tension. Box trees were much more abundant during the Middle Ages, and are still an indicator species for ancient woodland. The Barberry, by contrast, was a plant deliberately cultivated in mediaeval England, because of its delicious berries, which flavoured punches, were used to make jellies, and were candied as eaten as sweets (indeed, plants which have escaped from the monastic garden still survive on the walls of the decaying Godstow Priory in Oxford). It is possible that the two plants represent Gawaines hunting instinct and Gaynores capacity for nurture typical mediaeval stereotypes of male and female roles but they may also be there to remind the reader that a man and a woman (the latter married to another and a king at that) are now isolated in a wild place. See Geoffrey Grigson, The Englishmans Flora, St Albans, 1975, pp. 54 and 132-134. 10 This observation bears interesting comparison with the descriptions of the knights vicarious bravery later on in the poem, as they watch Gawaine risk his life on their account. Whilst the poet who wrote Sir Gawaine and the Green Knight let the silence of the other knights in response to the Green Knights challenge pass without comment, this poet seems deliberately to imply that the rest of Arthurs knights are cowards of the worst kind: those who would happily encourage another to be brave, whilst saving their own skins.
9

Each wept like a child. She stops and she shudders, Dame Gaynore the gay, And says to Sir Gawaine, What do you think? It is but an eclipse, I heard scholars say11 Thus he comforts his queen, and tries not to shrink. She cries, Sir Cador, Constantine, Clegius and Cay Are uncourteous knights who cower and blink! By Cross and by Creed, they have scurried away, And the gruesomest ghost awaits on the brink! Grieve not! cried Gawain, To the ghost I shall say, You are spirit, not flesh,12 Im not craven nor nesh Your woes Ill unmesh, And Ill send you away! All bare was its body, and blackened its bone All shrouded in cloud, and evilly clad. It yammered and yowled fit to cave in a brain No womanly skin or complexion it had.13 It stopped and it stood, as still as a stone, It moaned and it mumbled, and murmured like mad! To the grisly ghost Sir Gawaine has gone At a run, like a raider, never afraid, (I am rarely a craven was Gawains refrain).14 On her skull of grim bone A toad sat enthroned,
11

Mediaeval scholars were already adept at predicting eclipses, although at least one that which preceded the Council of Whitby was seen as supernatural, and consequently helped to change the course of history. The poet resolutely steers away from Gawaines naturalistic explanation. 12 It now becomes clear what lesson Gawaine must learn: the flesh is transitory, but the spirit endures, even in the most wretched form. 13 The description of the ghost of Gaynores mother is a deliberately calculated juxtaposition with the description of Gaynores own costume. 14 Ironic since Gawaine needs to learn that an excess of courage is just as much of an impediment to the spirit as excessive cowardice.

And bleak as a moan Her eyes glowed with pain. Agleam like the glade, the ghastly ghost glides Enclosed in a cloud, in clothing unclear, Beset with spry serpents15 that cling to its sides My tongue dare not tell of the toads at its ear He unscabbards his sword and boldly abides, His countenance still, unquivered by fear. The hounds slink in hollows, and chivalry hides, And the ground is aghast, all grimy and drear Even the greyhounds stand gaunt, yet hang near.16 The birds in a host All stare at the ghost And screech like the lost As the leaf meets the sere.

15

Perhaps the author makes little distinction between serpents and worms. Indeed, the etchers of grotesque cadaver brasses made little distinction between the two in the same period. 16 Even the hounds have more gumption than King Arthurs knights.

Part 2: The Ghosts Complaint

he beaters all heard, though they stood far behind, The jaw on the dewlap17, the channering chin; The knight called on Christ he cried to the wind By the king on the Cross, the cleanser of sin, Tell me, cursed creature, whats on your mind, And why walk these woods, so wasted and thin? I used to be fair; my flesh was once fine, Christened and chrismed, and kings were my kin. Bold, brash and brave, those ancestors of mine, And God grants me grace To do penance in this place, And I turn my gaunt face To screech at your Queen.

I was brighter than her than sunlight in May Brighter than Brangeuayne or Beryl of old18. Friendship and freedom and unfettered play I had greater than Gaynore, and good hoards of gold! Of palaces, parks, of ponds, such display, Of towers, of towns, of treasures untold, Of castles and countries, of cliffs, in my day, But now I am snatched off, shivering and cold, In a fever of fretting and cowering in clay19: Lo, courteous knight, Deaths a doleful, sad blight;
17

A clever device. We think at first that the author is referring to the quaking jaws of the terrified deer and only realise afterwards that it is the flapping jawbone of a decayed and animated human cadaver. 18 In the story of Tristan and Isolde, Brangeuayne takes Isoldes place in Tristans bed, in order to suggest that her mistress is innocent of adultery. It is probably also significant that Beryl is the name of a precious stone, as well as a womans Christian name. 19 A literal description of the bodys location. It later becomes obvious that the soul itself is in Purgatory.

Let me once have a sight Of Gaynore the gay! And Sir Gawaine the Good goes up to the Queen And brings to the corpse the kings beautiful bird. It says, Welcome Gaynore such woes I have seen20 Look! Doleful Death made your mother his bride! My cheek was once crimson, like the rose on the green, My skin like the lilies that bloomed at its side. Now Im a ghost, and grisly my groan, In Lucifers lake Im compelled to abide: This is my lot, girl listen and learn! Your fur and your ring, Your mirrors that sing, Your dukes and your King Shall be harried, and burn! This death you shall die, I say without doubt, So take hearty heed, while you are still here, When in richest array21, as you ride in the rout, Be kind to the poor, whilst theres still time to care, When beggars and bairns beset you about Beware, for your body will ride on a bier, And those who once doted will soon turn to doubt. Then nothing will help but the holiest prayer, For the prayers of the poor may purchase you peace: Give them alms at the gate And send them your meat When youre sitting in state
20 21

From this point onwards, the testimony of Gaynores mother on the sufferings of the afterlife seems to prefigure that of the ghost of Hamlets father. An ironic repetition of a phrase which is used more than once in the poem.

Long before your surcease22. Before your surcease, when the feast is being served, And I rot in the dungeon doomed there to dwell Needy and naked, scorned and enslaved (My home is a-simmer, an outpost of Hell) By a dozen black demons Im basted and seared On brass grates and brimstone, like a steak on a grill. My skin is all blistered, my eyes are both bleared, My tongue torn in two by the torments I tell. Hear as I speak what you fear to know: Now think upon this, For your sin is amiss, Youre a hussy for bliss And youll share in my woe!

22

The poets perspective on the chivalric romance starts to become clear: what is important is not deeds of arms, but the salvation of the human soul through deeds of alms. Gaynores mother warns her that if she does not care for the poor in this life, she will be in a worse situation than theirs in the next.

Part 3: The Ghosts Demands

grieve for your fate, said Gaynore, and wish You redeemed. Mother, I ask, though I barely dare, Whether Matins and Mass might serve to wash You of sin or jewels of the earth help you to fare Better? Might bishops with beads bring you to bliss, Or cloisters and covenants heal you of care? For you were my mother, how horrid it is: Your body was beautiful; now it is bare! Yes, worms bared my body, and who is to blame? You know this is true: Vows were broken. I rue The day! So do you! I am writhing in pain!

Then tell, groaned Gaynore, What penance might Save you? And what saint plead for thy sake? For baleful beasts blast your body with blight, Your blood blinds my eyes can mere worms break You? Worms are my paramours23, writhing and white, They sink me down softly to dwell in a lake. Even these words are wombed in black night, And wretched the worms each writhes like a snake. In torment I toss Gaynore, know this: Were nine hundred masses done At Matins and Nones, My saved soul would soon Grope gladly for bliss.24
An anticipation of the last scene of Romeo and Juliet. A clear affirmation of the ghosts (and by implication, the poets) belief in the efficacy of prayers for the dead. It is clear that the author is not a Lollard, although it is possible that s/he had access to scriptural translations of Lollard provenance.
24 23

May he bring you to bliss, who bought us with blood, Who hung clear on a cross25 and was crowned with thorns, Christened and chrismed with candle and creed, In a font of cold stone, baptised newborn; And mild mother Mary who nurtured the seed, And swaddled the bairn of Bethlehem born: May they give me the grace to turn your fate good Through prayers at Mass, and Matins at morn. Keep mindful at Mass, and meekly implore Him, who hung on a rood Staunched evil with good With his deluge of blood To abide at your door! I stretch forth my hand! I repent as you scold! A million masses may silence your groaning But one thing, cried Gaynore, I need to be told What sin angers Christ, that I should be disowning? Pride26 and pretences - read the prophets of old Made plain to all people pay heed to their preaching! Prides branches bear bitter fruit; you must be bold, For thousands are doomed, ignoring Gods bidding, All of them damned, stripped bare of bliss. In Christ put your trust To purge you of lust
The Middle English text uses the word clarifet the origin of our modern clarified. The phrase is not heretical: it implies not that Christ was cleansed of sin on the Cross, but that his glory was made manifest. However, the word-choice does suggest familiarity with a vernacular translation of the Gospel of John (pers. comm., Yvonne Parrey, 2012: John 23 in the Scottish Bible, has "The houre cummis, that mannis sonn be clarifiet", which in the Vulgate is "Venit hora, ut clarificetur Filius hominis", so the Scots is not a bad translation. It is normally translated in modern English as "The hour has come for the Son of Man to receive great glory.") In the context of a chivalric romance, the choice of a vernacular word pointing to the deity of Christ clearly has a didactic purpose: knighthood is not everything; there is a more valid way to glory. 26 Compare this phrase with the later descriptions of the pomp and ceremony of King Arthurs court.
25

Or suffer you must Gaynore, hear this! Now hear me, wept Gaynore27, grisly ghost, What is the penance or prayer that will save? Meekness, it moaned, is what you need most, And pity the poor: youll be one in the grave! The charitable please Christ more than the chaste Its better to give alms than be boastful or brave: These are the gifts of the Holy Ghosts grace, Inspiring each soul, salvation to crave! But speak no more to the chantry28 make haste! Queen in your comfort, who charms a whole state, Hold these words in your heart: We live once, then depart! Child, look to your fate! How shall we fare, cried Gawaine, who are fickle and fight, And are quick to oppress the poor of the land, And overrun the world, and fight against right, And war for mens worship, by might of our hands?29 Your king is too covetous; so are his knights! The Great Wheel30 will revolve but a moment it stands Still! When hes majestic, and high in his might, The Wheel shall swing low, as justice demands!
The degree to which womens voices dominate this portion of the poem is significant, since they will play a defining role at its resolution. Chantry chapels were specifically set aside and often purpose-built for clergy or monks to say prayers for the souls of the dead. 29 Despite the apparent religious orthodoxy of this part of the poem, it works against the spirit of the traditional mediaeval romance, which customarily lauded knights deeds-at-arms. Gawaine, ever conscientious, realises that Arthurs knights are rapacious, and that the ghosts command that Gaynore must care for the poor is diametrically opposed to the chivalric ideal since the poor are always the first to suffer at the hands of warriors. 30 The Wheel of Fortune: a common motif in mediaeval art and literature. Artistic depictions of the Wheel commonly depict a crowned king sitting at its apex, and a Fool at its nadir the implication being that a brief rotation will reverse their positions.
28 27

Thus shall misfortune bring misery and blight! Fell Fortune, by night, Is an awesome wheelwright Whose spokes turn in spite At a touch of his hands!

Part 4: The Ghosts Predictions

n France31 you have fought, and by force you have won Vassals and villeins, to drudgery doomed, Brittany and Burgoyne are both under your thumb Amid deafening clamour, all France has been claimed, 32 And Gian regrets it was ever begun: There are no living left not wounded or maimed, And yet the rich Romans will soon overrun, Your fabled Round Table turned over and shamed. The Tamar33 will stop you, and Arthur will fall. Gawaine, you must choose Tuscany or crows34, For Arthur shall lose His throne to his thrall.

A knight35 shall come stealthily, seizing the crown, And at Carlisle be crowned as a king; Hell pause not to parley, take the land for his own, And slander and strife on Britain hell bring. Theyll tell you in Tuscany36, treasons enthroned, Youll turn in your tracks to hear such a thing: The Round Tables glory will lose all renown, And at Romsey37 the red blades shall ring. Hell die in distress, the doughtiest of all:
The Arthurian romances originally a British (and more specifically, Welsh) tradition were appropriated by French writers, and then re-imported. The Anturs post-date this process, and they also appear to reflect on the meddling of Plantagenet English kings in continental matters. 32 Guienne: listed as one of Arthurs conquests in the Morte Arthur. 33 The river which divides Cornwall from the rest of England, and a traditional site for the Battle of Camlann. The poet confuses this with battles against the Roman Empire. 34 Gawaine must choose between the lands he has gained through Arthurs conquests, or an honest death. 35 Mordred, Arthurs bastard son. 36 Arthur travels through Tuscany as he hears of Mordreds treachery in the Morte Arthur. 37 Another likely reference to the Morte, which mentions Dorset as the scene of one of Arthurs battles.
31

Get you well, Gawaine, Boldest knight in Britain, In a ditch youll be slain; And fates blade shall fall. Fates blade shall fall, and slice you like stubble, On Cornwalls coast pay heed to my words And there, honest Arthur, overcome by the rabble, Shall be sliced by swords, most woeful his wounds, And routed and ruined, every knight of the Table: Theyll all die that day, lives lost in the wind. Surprise shall defeat them: a knight shielded in sable: A St. Andrews cross with silver entwined38. I said, sable his shield! Sooth for to say: In King Arthurs hall The child plays at ball Who shall conquer you all Cruelly that day! Good day to you Gawaine, and Gaynore, be good! My time has run out, though I had more to tell, For I must walk my way, through yonder dark wood, To whimper with woe and to broil in hell! By him who righteously hung on the rood, Remember my pain, and the place where I dwell. Lift up my soul and seek succour from God, Buy Matins and Masses, and pay for them well, For Masses are medicines, purging all pride: Now a Mass seems more sweet Than the spices you eat
38

The heraldic symbols of Mordred.

And with no more debate, Away the ghost glides.

Part 5: Sir Galerons Challenge

ith grisly gasps the ghost glides away, Groaning and griping and bawling aloud. Wind buffets the world and brings back the day, The sun waxes clear, and uncovers the cloud. The king blows his bugle and rides in array; His fair knights in the field, they flock in a crowd. To the queen they all ride; they dare not delay, And speak to her mildly, undaunted and proud, Pretending no weather had forced their retreat: Pomps princes in pride, Gaynores silks at their sides, To Rondallsete ride To drink and to eat.

Arthur sat at his supper, with servants at his side, Under slivers of silk, with dainties galore, With wealth at his willing, and wine at his word, With pastry and bacon, gold-leafed without flaw, There came a musician, whose psaltery cried, And a lissom lady39 led a worn man of war. He rode through the hall, and grimly he called, Hailing King Arthur, hearty and sure, And he said to the sovereign, splendidly crowned, Youre unequalled in might Im an heir and a knight, So match reason with right And be more renowned!
39

The description of Galerons lady is as glorious as that of Gaynore herself: hinting at their rivalry, but also providing the common ground which will lead to both of them pleading for an end to the jousting as the poem reaches its climax.

Manly in his mantle, Arthur sat at his meat, In silk trimmed with fur, all ermine-white, Knitted and knotted, calm and complete, With tassels of topaz embroidered so tight.40 He lifted his eyes, all grey and effete, His beard red-brown, and his mail gleaming bright: The seemliest sovereign to sit in a seat That ever a vassal had held in his sight, And comely, the King, too composed to compete, Says, Come, burly wight, From your hot horse alight! What worries you, knight? Make confession complete! He was the worthiest knight you ever beheld: His robe was a glory; no grass was as green. His lady bore blankets embroidered with birds, Beaten with gold, and with clasps like a queen. The plaits in her hair were bejewelled like a brides, Her headdress was ribboned, with gold weaved between, And comely her crown, bright to behold, With curious kerchiefs, each clasped with a pin, Her apparel: provocation to princes of might, And each knight longed to hold Her bright birds, weaved bold, A sweet pain to behold, In front of her knight: A knight in full colours, his arms in full sheen, His helmet-crest comely, and bright to behold,
40

The description of Arthurs costume is also designed to conflict with the ghosts advice about humility.

His mail and his mantle were blazoned and clean, And bordered about with hot-burnished gold. His tabard milk-white, and weaved like a dream, With trappings to match (as I have been told), With a shield on his shoulder of shimmering sheen, With boars heads of black, and brows glowering bold. His steed was with sandalwood smeared to the heel, His chevron adorned Like a bold unicorn, As sharp as a thorn, With a spike of pure steel. In steel was he surfeited, sitting stern on his steed, Adorned with bright stars which shone in a spray. His garments and gloves were glowing like gold, Weaved with bold ribbons, in richest array, With shin-guards of iron, cut cleanly and cold, His knees jewelled green an emerald display. His lance was aloft and his aspect was bold; His mount was a Fresian steed41, hot from the fray, But skittish and nervous, well-trained for war, Yet distracted to see Such bright fleurs-de-lys: Such games and such glee It had not seen before. Then the King called him close, and spoke in his ear, From whence are you come, and what is your will? Tell me your provenance; what is your fear, And why does your steed stop, and stand so still?
41

He either has more than one horse, or borrows a different horse when it comes to the joust: see the climax of the poem.

The knight lifted his visor, and viewed the King clear, And watched him most wisely, staring, until He said, Whether Kaiser or King, I bid you hear: You must find me a knight to fight by his skill Someone who strives, and not to seek fame!42 And the King, on a height, Cried, Linger all night, You courteous knight, And tell me your name! My name is Sir Galeron, without any guile, The greatest of Galway, in groves and in glens: In Carrake, in Cummake, in Conyngame, in Kile, In Lonwik, in Lannax, and in Laudonnes hills. You have won by deceit, and duplicitous guile, A gift for Sir Gawaine my heart on a grill Yet youll wring both your hands, and worry the while, Before any knight should transgress my will, For my will is as iron: it will not bend or yield While my head is still here! He must come without fear With a shield and sharp spear To fight on the field! On the field I will fight I pledge by my faith With any fool on earth who is fierce and freeborn, For to lose my lordship makes me wince like a wraith, And no one shall live who would laugh me to scorn. But we live in woodland: my knights earn their worth By hunting the herd with hound and with horn,
42

A similar challenge to that made by the Green Knight and the same individual answers his challenge.

So go knight, and gladly, for we have no wrath But well match you at midday do not be forlorn! And rest well, brave knight, for I ride forth tonight! But Gawaine, greatest of all, Strode forth through the hall, Not afraid of his pall, All arrayed for the fight.

Part 6: Preparation for the Joust

hrough a pompish pavilion with purple-draped walls, Embroidered with beads, and dazzling with light, Gawaine led Galeron past chapels and halls To a tall-chimneyed chamber where embers burned bright. They haltered his steed and led him to stall Where hay hung from hatches: a horses delight43. A brocaded bedspread and squires at his call, They opened the cellar for feasting the knight: With torches ablaze, and standards between, Plates to dazzle the sight Of so worthy a knight, Of such girth and such height, With their silvery sheen.

In silver so bright they serve him the best White wine in the world, in cups of clear glass, With luscious meats of fowl, fish and beast, Rich dainties and delicacies smothered with glaze. And once bold Galeron has gone to his rest, The King calls for counsel: with anger he glows: Take heed my lords, lest your honour is lost: Which knight will fight Galeron? grimly he growls. Sir Gawain says, King, there is no cause to grieve. I will fight with this knight To uphold my right By my pledge and my plight, My Lord, with your leave!
43

According to the rules of chivalry, full hospitality is offered not only to Galeron, but also to his horse, even though he is currently a sworn enemy to King Arthurs court.

I know well, said the King, you are champing to fight, But Id not, for a lordship, see your life lost.44 Let go, said Sir Gawaine, God stands with the right: He shant escape scot-free, unscathed by our host! And at dawning of day, doughty and bright, They heard Matins and Mass with no trembling or haste, Pitched pavilions at Plumpton45, their pomp in full sight, Where no knights before had fought hand to hand. They set lists on the level, marked out on the land. Three sops soaked in wine They brought to Gawaine To settle his brain46 Till the King gave command. The King gave command to the Earl of Kent To be kindly and courteous to Galeron the knight, And bade him on dainties to dine in his tent While all of his men were armed left and right, And after Queen Gaynore, glumly they went While Galeron was feasted under her sight, 47 And horsemen grasped reins and bade their mounts wait As lords at the lists reined in to alight All but the two strongest: in stirrups they stood. And King Arthurs throne Was set high on the loam. Gaynore let out a moan For Gawaine the good.

44 45 46 47

Arthur values Gawaines skills as a soldier, and is unwilling to lose him in a joust. Modern Plumpton Wall, one of the hays of Inglewood Forest. Perhaps a comparison with Christ, who was served with a sponge soaked in vinegar on the cross. Ironically, Gaynore must attend to the hospitality afforded to the foe of the knight to whom she is so clearly devoted.

Gawaine and Galeron spur on their steeds, All glittering gold their armour and gear, Led to the lists by two lords in bright weeds, With men armed with maces to bring up the rear. Each digs in his spurs, - his horses hide bleeds And out in the field, each has planted his spear. Shafts of hard wood are splintered to bits, For each joys in jousting, and neither knows fear. Lance-shafts a-shiver, and shields in full sheen, And with swords sharp and bright With a mail-splitting smite, They clash, knight-on-knight, Gawaine clad in green.48

48

The last verse of this section does not appear in one of the manuscripts, and it is possible that it has been added by a later scribe who equated Sir Galeron with Gawaines earlier foe, the Green Knight. This part of the poem is, of course, much more typical of late mediaeval chivalric romances, and it has been suggested that there was also a change of author between the disappearance of the ghost of Gaynores mother and the arrival of Galeron at King Arthurs court although the last stanzas certainly re-direct the poem towards its original purpose, and therefore cast these stanzas in an ironic light.

Part 7: The Joust

nd Gawaine the good is garbed in bright green With griffins of gold49 engraved on his shield, Knitted and knotted, with chevrons between. On a sauntering steed, he swerves to one side; The other knight spits, eyes slitted and mean, Cries, Why do you feint? Are you sly or afraid? And swats with his sword: a gash red and clean In the shoulder of Gawaine; blood soaks through the braid. The clashing and clamour make fearful ado: The sword, a bright bane, Splits his mail-coat in twain To the white collar bone, His shield cleaved in two. It carves through the cantel, gouges into the knight, Through his shield and shoulder a hilts depth or more, And his unscathed assailant laughs from a height, And Gawaine is angry, grieving full sore: Ill reward you this rout, and repay you aright! Then he gallops at Galeron, hard as he dare, Rips into his blazon, through mail burnished bright, His shimmering sword shearing through like a spear, So Galerons steed shudders with fright: Eyes rolling white, with tottering gait. The knight faces his fate And with stirrups stretched straight Canters back to the fight. With stirrups stretched straight, fiercely he strikes,

49

Here the poet echoes the Morte, rather than Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, which gives Gawain a shield decorated solely with a pentagram.

Flails at Sir Gawain as if he were straw. His lady aloft, shrilly she shrieks When she sees all the blood and how freely it flows, But the lords and the ladies all clamour alike, And thank God for Gawaine, knight without flaws. With a swipe of his sword, Galeron strikes: Smites Gawaines steed it founders and falls, And Gawaine, he grieves, he calls on the Rood, For his slain steed he weeps From his stirrups he leaps And a vengeance he reaps For Gresell 50 the good. Gresell is gone, cries Gawaine, By God! The handsomest horse to ever eat hay. By him who in Bedlam was born for our good, Ill vanquish this knight, and avenge you this day. Ill give you my Fresian steed, Galeron said, It will never blench or be slain in the fray. Be done with your Fresian I wish it were dead ! Gawaine stood still in a doleful display, I mourn for no manticore my stallion of war!51 And he stood by his steed So stalwart in need, And his eyes seemed to bleed With weeping so sore. With woe and with weeping, he turns to the knight,
In Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Gawains horse is Gringolet. Gawaine is offended by Galerons offer of a replacement horse, and compares his foes alternative mount with a manticore a composite monstrosity often regarded as an unholy hybrid. Possibly, he is also in doubt about the composure of the Fresian steed, since it seemed daunted by the bright fleurs-de-lys and other trinkets on display in King Arthurs hall.
51 50

Rounds on his rival whose wounds are so red Who draws back in dread at the desperate sight Of Gawaine undaunted, who so wants him dead: Thus well drive out the day, and bring on black night And the sunset shall stain where knight and horse bled! In the midst of the joust, Galeron alights, Brandishing his blade like a demon of dread, And they bound to do battle, their brands flashing bright, Till shields hang in shreds And chainmail runs red, And the lords shrink with dread To watch such a fight. And fighting on foot upon the fair field As fresh as two lions, fierce for the kill: Its wondrous to watch the pair of them wield Their weapons and Gawaine does not flag in will, But shoves his sharp sword under Galerons shield, Into his waist, wounding him well: No stuffing to stop it: armour caves in to steel, But Galeron stands like a stone as men stare Takes a lunge at Gawaine Between visor and chain, And if hes not slain Its by less than a hair. And hefting and hacking on helms, they are hewing, Their beryls all bashed in, on borders so bright, Each clash of the sword, the precious stones strewing Till the field glints and gleams in the midst of the fight, The shields on their shoulders are shabby and shredding Their tabards not one rivet stands straight.

Then lords rue the day that this bargain was brewing, That set knight on knight and would never abate, And Arthur feels mangled in soul and in brain: Both Sir Lot 52 and Sir Lake Little meaning can make Gaynore weeps for the sake Of gallant Gawaine. And weeping, Dame Gaynore, her eyes wet and grey, Is aggrieved at Sir Gawaines grisly gashes, When grim-faced Gawaine, like a hawk at its prey, Sweeps in with his sword, plunges and slashes. Down the side of Sir Galeron he carves, as through clay, And rips through the mails as if they are rushes: He strikes him a blow fit to fillet and flay, Leaves him grovelling on ground, and blood flows in flushes, And grovelling on ground he groans on the green And yet, wounded he rose And on Gawain he closed, Lunging straight at his nose With his sword quick and keen, And cruel and keen, his sword carves through air, Backhanded and brutal, he lethally strikes, His sword weighted with woe for Gawaine, I fear, But he gets his come-uppance - and this part I like! Just when he thinks to slay, then and there, His sword slips and slants, and on the mail slides, And Gawaine rebounds, grabs hold like a bear, And chokes him. His lady how shrilly she shrieks,53
52

Gawaines own father.

And screams at Dame Gaynore, plaintive with pain, Lady great is your might Have mercy! My knight Is in such a sore plight! He wont bother you again! And wilfully Gaynore goes up to her King, Snatches off her crown and cowers at his feet, Crying aloud, You are rich, royal, and strong, But I am your wife, and your wills not complete If not wound up with mine. To kill him is wrong! Equal their wounds look how freely they bleed, Their shoulders in shreds, their shields unstrung! The groans of Sir Gawaine are a grisly creed Gut-wrenching groans that grieve me full sore! For your wife bends her knee: Gracious Lord, humour me Get your knights to agree To bring an end to this war!

For several stanzas, the poem seems to have reverted to something more akin to the traditional Romance genre, dwelling on the martial prowess of Gawaine and Galeron, but tellingly, the perspective shifts once more to that of the women who watch the joust, and who have very different views on the violence.

53

Part 8: Peace

ut then spoke Sir Galeron: Sir Gawaine the Good, I never knew that there was such a knight! I relinquish my claim I swear by the Rood! To your Lord and his retinue I resign my right. I am henceforth your vassal a pledge made with blood Of all men on earth, you are greatest in might! And meekly he made for the King where he stood, And surrendered his sword, which was burnished so bright54, Crying, Of rents and of riches I make my release! And down knelt the knight, Shouting up to the height, And the King stood upright And commanded the peace.

The King commanded peace as he stood upright, And Gawaine relented, for the Kings sake, And these were the lords who leapt up in his sight: Yvayn and Uryayn and Arrake of the Lake, Sir Meliaduke, Sir Marrake all knights of great might And the two trenchant toilers, both barely could speak Without burly helpers to keep them upright, So bruised and so bloodless, their faces both bleak, So pale of complexion, so weakened by wounds And each pledged for peace As a God-sent release That the bleeding should cease: Pledged, and held up his hands.

54

The phrase is, of course, a deliberate and satirical clich.

Behold, your King gives you, Gawaine the good, All of Glamorgan, with its glades bright and green, The worship of Wales, to wield as you would, And Kirfre Castle, of bronze colour and sheen, And all Ulster Hall, to have and to hold, Wayforth and Waterforth, and all lands between, Two baronies of Brittany, with burgesses bold, With towers embattled, fit for a queen: I endow you as duke, dubbed by my hands But make peace with this knight Who put up such a fight, And resign him your right And give back his lands. I give you, Galeron, and without any guile, All lands that stretch between Logher and Layre: Carrake, Cummake, Conyngame and Kile All for yourself, and thereafter, your heirs The Lother, the Lemmok, the Loynak, the Lile, With wealds and with woodlands and waters so fair But bid you remain, and bide here awhile, And at the Round Table, our wrongs to repair. In this field I enfeoff you, as free as the air! And the King and the Queen With Lords riding between Weave the woodlands so green, And to Carlisle they fare.55
55

The return to the Round Table invites the reader to speculate on the degree to which the characters have learned lessons from their circumstances. King Arthur now knows how to use the offer of lands as a means of encouraging one of his knights to be merciful. Sir Gawaine seems to have gone backwards from his realisation that most of the deeds of the knights are not glorious but rapacious perhaps because the challenge with which he is issued is not to be met in battle, but in an individual joust. When he chooses (or is compelled, given that his King and Queen demand it) to offer mercy, his largesse takes the form of the restitution of lands previously taken from Sir Galeron. Thus, the men do little to deflect the fate already predicted for them by the ghost of Gaynores mother.

To Carlisle comes Arthur, with knights keen and bright, Through glades so green, and in royal array, To the Round Table, with two wounded knights, Saved by the surgeons so they all say The King and the Queen, all loving, as right, Gawaine and Galeron made Dukes that same day. He was wed with his lady love supplanting the fight, With gems for his gifts, Sir Galeron the gay. Thus Gawaine and Galeron put difference away, And when wounds congealed And all grudges healed His knighthood was sealed Till his dying day. And Gaynore wrote letters, forbearing the feast, To monks and to nuns, to chant and to sing, She pressed them to pray both bishop and priest With myriad masses, her mother to bring Out of burning.56 And scholars learned and finest Were sent throughout Britain, the Mass-bell to ring. And all of it happened in Inglewood Forest To knights and to ladies, to huntsmen and King. And to catch such a quarry is not to be spurned:
The real learners are the women: Gaynore and Galerons lover, who join forces to make a plea for peace on behalf of men who are too hot-headed to appreciate its benefits. 56 The ghosts voice is heeded at last and it is the triumph of a (dead) womans voice over the violent inheritance of a male hegemony. It is more than possible that the author was a woman perhaps a nun living somewhere in the north of England, with access to a scriptorium containing a vernacular translation of the Gospel of John who wished to encourage women (and, perhaps more reluctantly, men) to turn away from the pomp and pride of chivalry, but who still subscribed to an orthodox theology in which prayers for dead souls in Purgatory were regarded as efficacious.

That strength, pride and power Are gone in an hour By chivalrys flower Let the lesson be learned. Here is an end to the Adventures of Arthur.