d a thing impossible." "What is it?" asked
Sir Gawayne. "Since you have promised it, the promise must needs be
kept. Can I help you to perform your vow?" "Yes, you can, fair nephew
Gawayne, but I will never ask you to do a thing so terrible," said
King Arthur. "I am ready to do it, uncle, were it to wed the loathly
lady herself." "That is what she asks, that a fair young knight should
marry her. But she is too hideous and deformed; no man could make her
his wife." "If that is all your grief," replied Sir Gawayne, "things
shall soon be settled; I will wed this ill-favoured dame, and will be
your ransom." "You know not what you offer," answered the king. "I
never saw so deformed a being. Her speech is well enough, but her face
is terrible, with crooked nose and chin, and she has only one eye."
"She must be an ill-favoured maiden; but I heed it not," said Sir
Gawayne gallantly, "so that I can save you from trouble and care."
"Thanks, dear Gawayne, thanks a thousand times! Now through your
devotion I can keep my word. To-morrow we must fetch your bride from
her lonely lodging in the greenwood; but we will feign some pretext
for the journey. I will summon a hunting party, with horse and hound
and gallant riders, and none shall know that we go to bring home so
ugly a bride." "Gramercy, uncle," said Sir Gawayne. "Till to-morrow I
am a free man."

The Hunting Party

The next day King Arthur summoned all the court to go hunting in the
greenwood close to Tarn Wathelan; but he did not lead the chase near
the castle: the remembrance of his defeat and shame was too strong for
him to wish to see the place again. They roused a noble stag and
chased him far into the forest, where they lost him amid close
thickets of holly and yew interspersed with oak copses and hazel
bushes--bare were the hazels, and brown and withered the clinging oak
leaves, but the holly looked cheery, with its fresh green leaves and
scarlet berries. Though the chase had been fruitless, the train of
knights laughed and talked gaily as they rode back through the forest,
and the gayest of all was Sir Gawayne; he rode wildly down the forest
drives, so recklessly that he drew level with Sir Kay, the churlish
steward, who always preferred to ride alone. Sir Lancelot, Sir
Stephen, Sir Banier, and Sir Bors all looked wonderingly at the
reckless youth; but his younger brother, Gareth, was troubled, for he
knew all was not well with Gawayne, and Sir Tristram, buried in