The Story of King Arthur and his Knights
them. And Sir Pellias was so enchanted with the sweetness of the music,
and with the beauty of the Lady Ettard, that he wist not whether he were
indeed upon the earth or in Paradise, wherefore, because of his great
pleasure, he said unto the Lady Ettard, “Lady, I would that I might do
somewhat for thee to show unto thee how high is the regard and the honor
in which I hold thee.”
Now as Sir Pellias sat beside her, the Lady Ettard had continually held
in observation that wonderful collar of gold and of emerald and of opal
stones which hung about his neck; and she coveted that collar
exceedingly. Wherefore, she now said unto Sir Pellias, “Sir Knight, thou
mayst indeed do me great favor if thou hast a mind for to do so.” “What
favor may I do thee, Lady?” said Sir Pellias. “Sir,” said the Lady
Ettard, “thou mayst give unto me that collar which hangeth about thy
neck.”
At this the countenance of Sir Pellias fell, and he said, “Lady, I may
not do that; for that collar came unto me in such an extraordinary
fashion that I may not part it from me.”
Then the Lady Ettard said, “Why mayst thou not part it from thee, Sir
Pellias?”
Thereupon Sir Pellias told her all of that extraordinary adventure with
the Lady of the Lake, and of how that fairy lady had given the collar
unto him.
At this the Lady Ettard was greatly astonished, and she said, “Sir
Pellias, that is a very wonderful story. Ne’theless, though thou mayst
not give that collar unto me, yet thou mayst let me wear it for a little
while. For indeed I am charmed by the beauty of that collar beyond all
manner of liking, wherefore I do beseech thee for to let me wear it for
a little.”
[Sidenote: _Sir Pellias lets the Lady Ettard wear the collar._]
Then Sir Pellias could refuse her no longer, so he said, “Lady, thou
shalt have it to wear for a while.” Thereupon he took the collar from
off of his neck, and he hung it about the neck of the Lady Ettard.
Then, after a little time the virtue of that jewel departed from Sir
Pellias and entered into the Lady Ettard, and the Lady Ettard looked
upon Sir Pellias with altogether different eyes than those with which
she had before regarded him. Wherefore she said unto herself: “Hah! what
ailed me that I should have been so enchanted with that knight to the
discredit of my champion who hath served me so faithfully? Hath not this
knight done me grievous discredit? Hath he not come hitherward for no
other reason than for that purpose? Hath he not overthrown mine own true
knight in scorn of me? What then hath ailed me that I should have given
him such regard as I have bestowed upon him?” But though she thought all
this, yet she made no sign thereof unto Sir Pellias, but appeared to
laugh and talk very cheerfully. Nevertheless, she immediately began to
cast about in her mind for some means whereby she might be revenged upon
Sir Pellias; for she said unto herself, “Lo! is he not mine enemy and is
not mine enemy now in my power? Wherefore should I not take full measure
of revenge upon him for all that which he hath done unto us of
Grantmesnle?”
[Sidenote: _The Lady Ettard layeth plans against Sir Pellias._]
So by and by she made an excuse and arose and left Sir Pellias. And she
took Parcenet aside, and she said unto the damsel Parcenet, “Go and
fetch me hither presently a powerful sleeping-draught.” Then Parcenet
said, “Lady, what would you do?” And the Lady Ettard said, “No matter.”
And Parcenet said, “Would you give unto that noble knight a
sleeping-draught?” And the lady said, “I would.” Then Parcenet said,
“Lady, that would surely be an ill thing to do unto one who sitteth in
peace at your table and eateth of your salt.” Whereunto the Lady Ettard
said, “Take thou no care as to that, girl, but go thou straightway and
do as I bid thee.”
Then Parcenet saw that it was not wise for her to disobey the lady.
Wherefore she went straightway and did as she was bidden. So she brought
the sleeping-draught to the lady in a chalice of pure wine, and the Lady
Ettard took the chalice and said to Sir Pellias, “Take thou this chalice
of wine, Sir Knight, and drink it unto me according to the measure of
that good will thou hast unto me.” Now Parcenet stood behind her lady’s
chair, and when Sir Pellias took the chalice she frowned and shook her
head at him. But Sir Pellias saw it not, for he was intoxicated with the
beauty of the Lady Ettard, and with the enchantment of the collar of
emeralds and opal stones and gold which she now wore. Wherefore he said
unto her, “Lady, if there were poison in that chalice, yet would I drink
of the wine that is in it at thy command.”
At that the Lady Ettard fell a-laughing beyond measure, and she said,
“Sir Knight, there is no poison in that cup.”
So Sir Pellias took the chalice and drank the wine, and he said, “Lady,
how is this? The wine is bitter.” To which the Lady Ettard made reply,
“Sir, that cannot be.”
[Sidenote: _Sir Pellias sleepeth._]
Then in a little while Sir Pellias his head waxed exceedingly heavy as
if it were of lead, wherefore he bowed his head upon the table where he
sat. That while the Lady Ettard remained watching him very strangely,
and by and by she said, “Sir Knight, dost thou sleep?” To the which Sir
Pellias replied not, for the fumes of the sleeping-draught had ascended
into his brains and he slept.
Then the Lady Ettard arose laughing, and she smote her hands together
and summoned her attendants. And she said to them, “Take this knight
away, and convey him into an inner apartment, and when ye have brought
him thither, strip him of his gay clothes and of his ornaments so that
only his undergarments shall remain upon him. And when ye have done
that, lay him upon a pallet and convey him out of the castle and into
that meadow beneath the walls where he overthrew Sir Engamore, so that
when the morning shall arise he shall become a mock and a jest unto all
who shall behold him. Thus shall we humiliate him in that same field
wherein he overthrew Sir Engamore, and his humiliation shall be greater
than the humiliation of Sir Engamore hath been.”
Now when the damsel Parcenet heard this she was greatly afflicted, so
that she withdrew herself apart and wept for Sir Pellias. But the others
took Sir Pellias and did unto him as the Lady Ettard had commanded.
Now when the next morning had come, Sir Pellias awoke with the sun
shining into his face. And he wist not at all where he was, for his
brains were befogged by the sleeping-draught which he had taken. So he
said unto himself, “Am I dreaming, or am I awake? for certes, the last
that I remember was that I sat at supper with the Lady Ettard, yet here
I am now in an open field with the sun shining upon me.”
So he raised himself upon his elbow, and behold! he lay beneath the
castle walls nigh to the postern gate. And above him, upon the top of
the wall, was a great concourse of people, who, when they beheld that he
was awake, laughed at him and mocked at him. And the Lady Ettard also
gazed down at him from a window and he saw that she laughed at him and
made herself merry. And lo! he beheld that he lay there clad only in his
linen undervestment, and that he was in his bare feet as though he were
prepared to sleep at night. So he sat upon the cot, saying unto himself,
“Certainly this must be some shameful dream that oppresses me.” Nor was
he at all able to recover from his bewilderment.
[Sidenote: _The damsel Parcenet bringeth succor to Sir Pellias._]
Now, as he sat thus, the postern gate was opened of a sudden, and the
damsel Parcenet came out thence. And her face was all be-wet with tears,
and she bare in her hand a flame-colored mantle. Straightway she ran to
Sir Pellias, and said, “Thou good and gentle knight, take thou this and
wrap thyself in it.”
Upon this Sir Pellias wist that this was no dream, but a truth of great
shame; wherefore he was possessed with an extreme agony of shame, so
that he fell to trembling, whilst his teeth chattered as though with an
ague. Then he said to Parcenet, “Maiden, I thank thee.” And he could
find no more words to say. So he took the mantle and wrapped himself in
it.
Now when the people upon the walls beheld what Parcenet had done, they
hooted her and reviled her with many words of ill-regard. So the maiden
ran back again into the castle, but Sir Pellias arose and went his way
toward his pavilion wrapped in that mantle. And as he went he staggered
and tottered like a drunken man, for a great burden of shame lay upon
him almost more than he could carry.
[Sidenote: _Sir Pellias taketh great grief because of his shame._]
So when Sir Pellias had reached his pavilion, he entered it and threw
himself on his face upon his couch and lay there without saying
anything. And by and by Sir Brandiles and Mador de la Porte heard of
that plight into which Sir Pellias had fallen, and thereupon they
hastened to where he lay and made much sorrow over him. Likewise, they
were exceedingly wroth at the shame that had been put upon him;
wherefore they said, “We will get us aid from Camelot, and we will burst
open yonder castle and we will fetch the Lady Ettard hither to crave thy
pardon for this affront. This we will do even if we have to drag her
hither by the hair of her head.”
But Sir Pellias lifted not his head, only he groaned and he said, “Let
be, Messires; for under no circumstance shall ye do that thing, she
being a woman. As it is, I would defend her honor even though I died in
that defence. For I know not whether I am bewitched or what it is that
ails me, but I love her with a very great passion and I cannot tear my
heart away from her.”
At this Sir Brandiles and Sir Mador de la Porte were greatly astonished,
wherefore they said the one to the other, “Certes, that lady hath laid
some powerful spell upon him.”
Then after a while Sir Pellias bade them go away and leave him, and they
did so, though not with any very good will.
So Sir Pellias lay there for all that day until the afternoon had come.
Then he aroused himself and bade his esquire for to bring him his armor.
Now when Sir Brandiles and Sir Mador de la Porte heard news of this they
went to where he was and said, “Sir, what have ye a mind to do?” To this
Sir Pellias said, “I am going to try to win me unto the Lady Ettard’s
presence.” Then they said, “What madness is this?” “I know not,” said
Sir Pellias, “but, meseems, that if I do not behold the Lady Ettard and
talk with her I shall surely die of longing to see her.” And they say,
“Certes, this is madness.” Whereunto he replied, “I know not whether it
is madness or whether I am caught in some enchantment.”
So the esquire fetched unto Sir Pellias his armor as he had commanded,
and he clad Sir Pellias in it so that he was altogether armed from head
to foot. Thereupon straightway Sir Pellias mounted his horse and rode
out toward the castle of Grantmesnle.
Now when the Lady Ettard beheld Sir Pellias again parading the meadow
below the castle, she called unto her six of her best knights, and she
said unto them, “Behold, Messires, yonder is that knight who brought so
much shame upon us yesterday. Now I bid ye for to go forth against him
and to punish him as he deserveth.”
So those six knights went and armed themselves, and when they had done
so they straightway rode forth against Sir Pellias.
[Sidenote: _Sir Pellias overcometh six knights._]
Now, when Sir Pellias beheld these approach, his heart overflowed with
fury and he shouted in a great voice and drave forward against them. And
for a while they withstood him, but he was not to be withstood, but
fought with surpassing fury, wherefore they presently brake from before
him and fled. So he pursued them with great fury about that field and