Poets Translate Poets: A Hudson Review Anthology (8 page)

To nick his neck on the one side, severing the skin.

Th

e sharp edge sank into the fl esh and through the shining fat

So the bright blood shot over his shoulders and out onto the earth.

And when Gawain glimpsed his own blood there, gleaming on the snow,

He sprang forth more than a spear’s length with his feet planted together:

He grasped his helmet hurriedly and clapped it onto his head;

With a shake of his shoulders then he jerked his shield down into place,

And drew his bright sword from his belt and challenged fi erily.

Never since he had been a newborn babe in his mother’s arms

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Had he ever felt himself in this world to be half so happy a man.

“You can put a stop to your bold strokes, sir! Give me no more of them!

For I have taken one blow in this place, without resisting it,

But if you off er me any more, I will pay you back at once,

I will repay you to the full, rely on it—and be

Your foe.

Only one stroke must fall—

Th

us did we make our vow

Which we pledged in Arthur’s hall—

And therefore, man, stop now!”

Th

e great lord turned away from him and rested on his axe—

He set the shaft on the riverbank and leaned on the sharp blade

And took a good long look at the knight who had taken a fi ghting stance,

How that doughty hero stood up to him, so fearless and undaunted,

Fully armed and free of dread: it warmed his heart to watch.

Th

en he addressed him cheerfully in his resounding voice

And with a ringing resonance he spoke thus to the man:

“Bold knight, don’t be so fi erce and grim, here on this grassy ground.

Nobody has used you ill, or in unmannerly fashion,

Nor acted against the covenant that we shaped at the King’s court.

I pledged you a stroke, and you have it—you may hold yourself well paid;

I release you from the rest of it, from any other claims.

If I had not been nimble, perhaps I’d have dealt you a blow

More out of anger, one that might indeed have provoked your wrath.

Th

e fi rst stroke, though, I threatened you for fun, with only a feint,

Not slicing you open with a slash. In this I gave you justice

According to the agreement we craft ed your fi rst night in my castle,

When you faithfully fulfi lled our pact and were a man of your word:

All of your winnings you gave to me, as an honest man should do.

Th

e other feint I gave you, sir, because on the following morning

You kissed my lovely wife and gave me back the kisses taken.

For those two days you took from me those merely feigning blows

At your nape.

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If a true man keeps his word,

Th

en he meets no mishap.

You fell short on the third,

And thus you took that tap.

“For that is my garment you are wearing, that selfsame woven girdle.

It was my own wife gave it to you, I know it very well.

And I know all about your kisses, and all the things you did;

And as for your wooing by my wife, it was I who set it up.

For I sent her to test your worth, and to tell the truth, I think

You are one of the most faultless men who ever went on foot:

As a pearl beside a white pea is so much more to be prized,

So is Sir Gawain, for good faith, beside all other knights.

You were lacking only a little here, and your fi delity failed,

Th

ough not from greed for this craft smanship, nor for making love,

But only because you loved your life, so I blame you all the less.”

Th

e other, valiant as he was, stood silent a long while,

So overcome with mortifi cation he shuddered inside himself;

And all the blood in his breast fl ushed up and mingled in his face;

So that he winced and shied for shame at what the knight had said.

Th

ere at that moment the fi rst words bursting out of him were these:

“A curse upon such cowardice and also covetousness!

In the pair of you are villainy and vice, that destroy virtue.”

Th

e good knight then caught hold of the knot, unloosed the fastening,

And roughly fl inging the whole belt to the lord who owned it, said,

“Look at it! Th

ere the false thing is, may the Fiend take it away!

Because I was anxious about your stroke, cowardice instructed me

To accord myself with covetousness and forsake my character;

Th

e largesse and the loyalty which truly belong to knighthood,

Now I am found faulty in them, and false, who have been afraid

Always of treachery and untruth—both of which lead to sorrow

And care!

I confess before you, knight,

My faults in private here.

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Your good will, if I might

Regain, will make me wary.”

At that the other lord stood laughing, and answered amiably,

“I hold it to be wholly healed, the injury that I had.

You have confessed yourself so cleanly, acknowledging your faults,

And you had your penance put to you at the sharp edge of my blade,

Th

at I hold you cleansed of that off ense, and purifi ed as clean

As if you had never sinned at all since the day that you were born.

And I will give you this girdle, sir, with the gold along its hems;

For it is as green as my gown, Sir Gawain, and wearing it you may

Th

ink back upon this selfsame game, when you are pressing forward

Among other princes of excellence; this will be a noble token

Of the feat you performed at the Green Chapel, when you’re among

chivalrous knights.

And now you shall, in this New Year, come back with me to my house,

And we shall revel away the rest of this glorious festival

Most happily.”

He pressed him hard, that lord:

“I think that with my lady

We shall bring you to accord—

Who was your bitter enemy.”

“Indeed I cannot,” said the knight, and seizing hold of his helmet,

He doff ed it out of courtesy, and off ered the lord his thanks.

“I have lingered here quite long enough. Good luck to you and yours,

And may He who determines all rewards repay you generously!

Commend me to that courteous lady, your gracious, lovely wife,

Both to her and that other one, my honored noble ladies,

Who so adroitly have beguiled their knight with their trickery.

But it is not an unusual thing for a fool to act foolishly,

Or for a man, through the wiles of women, to be brought down to grief.

For in the same style Adam once was beguiled by one on earth,

And Solomon by many women, and Samson was another—

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Delilah dealt him his destiny—and David aft erwards

Was blinded by Bathsheba and endured much misery.

Now, since these were ruined by women’s wiles, it would be an enormous

gain

To love them well, but not believe them—if any man could do that!

For these were the favored ones of old whom fortune followed aft er,

Yet they all went astray, although they were the most excellent men

Under heaven!

All of them had the wool

Pulled over their eyes by women;

If I’m an equal fool,

Might I not be forgiven?

“But as for your girdle,” Gawain said, “may God reward you for it!

Th

at I will wear with all good will, though not for gain of gold,

Nor for the cincture, nor the silk, nor for the long pendants,

Nor for its costliness and prestige, nor the wonderful workmanship;

But as a token of my transgression, I shall see it oft en

When I am riding out to renown, and remember with remorse

Th

e faultiness and the frailty that cling to the obstinate fl esh,

How it tends to be easily enticed to the spots and stains of sin.

And thus, when my prowess in battle shall prick me on to pride,

One look at this love-lace will remind me, and humble me in my heart.

But one thing I would like to know, so long as it won’t off end you:

Since you are the lord of yonder lands which I have been staying in,

So honorably received by you—may He repay you for it

Who holds the heavens above the earth and sits enthroned on high—

What are you called by your rightful name?—and then I will ask no more!”

“I will tell you that without deceit,” the other man replied.

“Bertilak of Hautdesert is how I am known in this land.

Th

rough the mighty force of Morgan le Fay, who is living in my castle,

And her skill in the magical lore and craft s that she once learned so well

Th

rough the masterful arts of Merlin himself, many of which she acquired,

For she had pleasant love-dealings over a long while

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With that wise and excellent wizard—as is known to the knights from whence

You came.

Morgan le Fay the goddess

Th

erefore is her name.

Whatever his haughtiness

Th

ere’s no man she can’t tame.

“She sent me out in this disguise to assail your handsome hall,

To put your vaunted pride to the test, to see if it held true,

Th

e great renown of the Round Table, that is vaunted everywhere.

She sent me out as this marvel you see, to drive you out of your minds,

And to so distress Queen Guinevere that she would be startled to death

From horror at seeing that selfsame knight, that ghastly phantom speaker

Talk from his head that he held in his hand, facing the high table.

She is the one who lives at my home, that ancient, agèd lady;

Even more than that, she is your aunt, half-sister to King Arthur,

She is the Duchess of Tintagel’s daughter, whom noble Uther later

Fathered Arthur himself upon, who is now your sovereign King.

Th

erefore, my lord, I now beseech you, come and visit your aunt,

Make merry once again in my house, where my people love you so,

And I, my fi ne fellow, bear you as much good will, by my faith, as any

Man living under God on earth, for your great integrity.”

Gawain said nothing except that he could not stay, by any means.

Th

e two knights then embraced and kissed, commended one another

To the high Prince of Paradise, and they separated right there

In the cold.

Gawain on his fair steed

Made haste to the King’s stronghold,

And the knight in brightest green

Wherever he wanted to go.

Gawain now went riding over many wild ways in the world

On Gringolet, since, through the grace of God, he had gotten away with his

life.

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Oft en he lodged inside a house, and oft en out of doors,

And met with many adventures in valleys and won many victories

Which I, at this time, do not intend to tell you all about.

Th

e hurt had healed and was whole again that he’d taken in his neck,

And he wore the gleaming belt about his body all the time,

But slantwise as a baldric that is fastened at the side,

Th

e lace locked under his left arm, and tied there with a knot

As a token of the spot of sin—the fault—he’d been taken in.

And thus that knight, all safe and sound, came to the King’s court.

Delight was wakened in that house when the noble folk were told

Th

at good Gawain had come again: they thought it amazing luck.

Th

e King walked out and kissed the knight, and the Queen kissed him too,

And aft er them many a trusty knight who came to hail him there

Asked him about his travels; he told them fantastic tales,

Describing all the tribulations he’d met with since he left —

His adventure at the Green Chapel, the deportment of its Knight,

Th

e amorous actions of the lady, and then at last, the lace.

He bared the scar of the nick on his neck in order to show them all

What he had taken at that lord’s hands for his unfaithfulness,

His blame.

It tormented him to tell;

He groaned for grief, and pain—

Th

e blood in his face upwelled

When he showed the cut, for shame.

“Look at this, lords!” the knight cried out, handling the lace.

“Th

is is the ribbon of the blame that I also bear on my neck.

Th

is is the sign of the injury and damage I have deserved—

From cowardice and covetousness that both caught hold of me.

Th

is is the token of the untruth that I was taken in,