Lady Bertilaks Character and Sir Gawain and The Green Knight Paper Lady Bertilak plays an important part in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. How does Lady

Lady Bertilaks Character and Sir Gawain and The Green Knight Paper Lady Bertilak plays an important part in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. How does Lady Bertilak’s character represent the role of women in the Middle Ages?The only thing needed is the story that is attached. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight
After the siege and the assault of Troy, when that burg was destroyed and burnt to ashes, and the traitor
tried for his treason, the noble Æneas and his kin sailed forth to become princes and patrons of well-nigh
all the Western Isles. Thus Romulus built Rome (and gave to the city his own name, which it bears even
to this day); and Ticius turned him to Tuscany; and Langobard raised him up dwellings in Lombardy; and
Felix Brutus sailed far over the French ?ood, and founded the kingdom of Britain, wherein have been war
and waste and wonder, and bliss and bale, ofttimes since.
And in that kingdom of Britain have been wrought more gallant deeds than in any other; but of all British
kings Arthur was the most valiant, as I have heard tell, therefore will I set forth a wondrous adventure that
fell out in his time. And if ye will listen to me, but for a little while, I will tell it even as it stands in story
stiff and strong, ?xed in the letter, as it hath long been known in the land.*****
King Arthur lay at Camelot upon a Christmas-tide, with many a gallant lord and lovely lady, and all the
noble brotherhood of the Round Table. There they held rich revels with gay talk and jest; one while they
would ride forth to joust and tourney, and again back to the court to make carols; 2 for there was the feast
holden ?fteen days with all the mirth that men could devise, song and glee, glorious to hear, in the
daytime, and dancing at night. Halls and chambers were crowded with noble guests, the bravest of
knights and the loveliest of ladies, and Arthur himself was the comeliest king that ever held a court. For
all this fair folk were in their youth, the fairest and most fortunate under heaven, and the king himself of
such fame that it were hard now to name so valiant a hero.
Now the New Year had but newly come in, and on that day a double portion was served on the high table
to all the noble guests, and thither came the king with all his knights, when the service in the chapel had
been sung to an end. And they greeted each other for the New Year, and gave rich gifts, the one to the
other (and they that received them were not wroth, that may ye well believe!), and the maidens laughed
and made mirth till it was time to get them to meat. Then they washed and sat them down to the feast in
?tting rank and order, and Guinevere the queen, gaily clad, sat on the high daïs. Silken was her seat, with
a fair canopy over her head, of rich tapestries of Tars, embroidered, and studded with costly gems; fair she
was to look upon, with her shining grey eyes, a fairer woman might no man boast himself of having seen.
But Arthur would not eat till all were served, so full of joy and gladness was he, even as a child; he liked
not either to lie long, or to sit long at meat, so worked upon him his young blood and his wild brain. And
another custom he had also, that came of his nobility, that he would never eat upon an high day till he had
been advised of some knightly deed, or some strange and marvellous tale, of his ancestors, or of arms, or
of other ventures. Or till some stranger knight should seek of him leave to joust with one of the Round
Table, that they might set their lives in jeopardy, one against another, as fortune might favour them. Such
was the king’s custom when he sat in hall at each high feast with his noble knights, therefore on that New
Year tide, he abode, fair of face, on the throne, and made much mirth withal.
Thus the king sat before the high tables, and spake of many things; and there good Sir Gawain was seated
by Guinevere the queen, and on her other side sat Agravain, à la dure main; 3 both were the king’s sister’s
sons and full gallant knights. And at the end of the table was Bishop Bawdewyn, and Ywain, King Urien’s
son, sat at the other side alone. These were worthily served on the daïs, and at the lower tables sat many
valiant knights. Then they bare the ?rst course with the blast of trumpets and waving of banners, with the
sound of drums and pipes, of song and lute, that many a heart was uplifted at the melody. Many were the
dainties, and rare the meats, so great was the plenty they might scarce ?nd room on the board to set on the
dishes. Each helped himself as he liked best, and to each two were twelve dishes, with great plenty of
beer and wine.
Now I will say no more of the service, but that ye may know there was no lack, for there drew near a
venture that the folk might well have left their labour to gaze upon. As the sound of the music ceased, and
the ?rst course had been ?tly served, there came in at the hall door one terrible to behold, of stature
greater than any on earth; from neck to loin so strong and thickly made, and with limbs so long and so
great that he seemed even as a giant. And yet he was but a man, only the mightiest that might mount a
steed; broad of chest and shoulders and slender of waist, and all his features of like fashion; but men
marvelled much at his colour, for he rode even as a knight, yet was green all over.
For he was clad all in green, with a straight coat, and a mantle above; all decked and lined with fur was
the cloth and the hood that was thrown back from his locks and lay on his shoulders. Hose had he of the
same green, and spurs of bright gold with silken fastenings richly worked; and all his vesture was verily
green. Around his waist and his saddle were bands with fair stones set upon silken work, ’twere too long
to tell of all the tri?es that were embroidered thereon–birds and insects in gay gauds of green and gold.
All the trappings of his steed were of metal of like enamel, even the stirrups that he stood in stained of the
same, and stirrups and saddle-bow alike gleamed and shone with green stones. Even the steed on which
he rode was of the same hue, a green horse, great and strong, and hard to hold, with broidered bridle,
meet for the rider.
The knight was thus gaily dressed in green, his hair falling around his shoulders; on his breast hung a
beard, as thick and green as a bush, and the beard and the hair of his head were clipped all round above
his elbows. The lower part of his sleeves were fastened with clasps in the same wise as a king’s mantle.
The horse’s mane was crisp and plaited with many a knot folded in with gold thread about the fair green,
here a twist of the hair, here another of gold. The tail was twined in like manner, and both were bound
about with a band of bright green set with many a precious stone; then they were tied aloft in a cunning
knot, whereon rang many bells of burnished gold. Such a steed might no other ride, nor had such ever
been looked upon in that hall ere that time; and all who saw that knight spake and said that a man might
scarce abide his stroke.
The knight bore no helm nor hauberk, neither gorget nor breast-plate, neither shaft nor buckler to smite
nor to shield, but in one hand he had a holly-bough, that is greenest when the groves are bare, and in his
other an axe, huge and uncomely, a cruel weapon in fashion, if one would picture it. The head was an ellyard long, the metal all of green steel and gold, the blade burnished bright, with a broad edge, as well
shapen to shear as a sharp razor. The steel was set into a strong staff, all bound round with iron, even to
the end, and engraved with green in cunning work. A lace was twined about it, that looped at the head,
and all adown the handle it was clasped with tassels on buttons of bright green richly broidered.
The knight rideth through the entrance of the hall, driving straight to the high daïs, and greeted no man,
but looked ever upwards; and the ?rst words he spake were, “Where is the ruler of this folk? I would
gladly look upon that hero, and have speech with him.” He cast his eyes on the knights, and mustered
them up and down, striving ever to see who of them was of most renown.
Then was there great gazing to behold that chief, for each man marvelled what it might mean that a knight
and his steed should have even such a hue as the green grass; and that seemed even greener than green
enamel on bright gold. All looked on him as he stood, and drew near unto him wondering greatly what he
might be; for many marvels had they seen, but none such as this, and phantasm and faërie did the folk
deem it. Therefore were the gallant knights slow to answer, and gazed astounded, and sat stone still in a
deep silence through that goodly hall, as if a slumber were fallen upon them. I deem it was not all for
doubt, but some for courtesy that they might give ear unto his errand.
Then Arthur beheld this adventurer before his high daïs, and knightly he greeted him, for fearful was he
never. “Sir,” he said, “thou art welcome to this place–lord of this hall am I, and men call me Arthur. Light
thee down, and tarry awhile, and what thy will is, that shall we learn after.”
“Nay,” quoth the stranger, “so help me He that sitteth on high, ’twas not mine errand to tarry any while in
this dwelling; but the praise of this thy folk and thy city is lifted up on high, and thy warriors are holden
for the best and the most valiant of those who ride mail-clad to the ?ght. The wisest and the worthiest of
this world are they, and well proven in all knightly sports. And here, as I have heard tell, is fairest
courtesy, therefore have I come hither as at this time. Ye may be sure by the branch that I bear here that I
come in peace, seeking no strife. For had I willed to journey in warlike guise I have at home both hauberk
and helm, shield and shining spear, and other weapons to mine hand, but since I seek no war my raiment
is that of peace. But if thou be as bold as all men tell thou wilt freely grant me the boon I ask.”
And Arthur answered, “Sir Knight, if thou cravest battle here thou shalt not fail for lack of a foe.”
And the knight answered, “Nay, I ask no ?ght, in faith here on the benches are but beardless children,
were I clad in armour on my steed there is no man here might match me. Therefore I ask in this court but
a Christmas jest, for that it is Yule-tide, and New Year, and there are here many fain for sport. If any one
in this hall holds himself so hardy, 4 so bold both of blood and brain, as to dare strike me one stroke for
another, I will give him as a gift this axe, which is heavy enough, in sooth, to handle as he may list, and I
will abide the ?rst blow, unarmed as I sit. If any knight be so bold as to prove my words let him come
swiftly to me here, and take this weapon, I quit claim to it, he may keep it as his own, and I will abide his
stroke, ?rm on the ?oor. Then shalt thou give me the right to deal him another, the respite of a year and a
day shall he have. Now haste, and let see whether any here dare say aught.”
Now if the knights had been astounded at the ?rst, yet stiller were they all, high and low, when they had
heard his words. The knight on his steed straightened himself in the saddle, and rolled his eyes ?ercely
round the hall, red they gleamed under his green and bushy brows. He frowned and twisted his beard,
waiting to see who should rise, and when none answered he cried aloud in mockery, “What, is this
Arthur’s hall, and these the knights whose renown hath run through many realms? Where are now your
pride and your conquests, your wrath, and anger, and mighty words? Now are the praise and the renown
of the Round Table overthrown by one man’s speech, since all keep silence for dread ere ever they have
seen a blow!”
With that he laughed so loudly that the blood rushed to the king’s fair face for very shame; he waxed
wroth, as did all his knights, and sprang to his feet, and drew near to the stranger and said, “Now by
heaven foolish is thy asking, and thy folly shall ?nd its ?tting answer. I know no man aghast at thy great
words. Give me here thine axe and I shall grant thee the boon thou hast asked.” Lightly he sprang to him
and caught at his hand, and the knight, ?erce of aspect, lighted down from his charger.
Then Arthur took the axe and gripped the haft, and swung it round, ready to strike. And the knight stood
before him, taller by the head than any in the hall; he stood, and stroked his beard, and drew down his
coat, no more dismayed for the king’s threats than if one had brought him a drink of wine.
Then Gawain, who sat by the queen, leaned forward to the king and spake, “I beseech ye, my lord, let this
venture be mine. Would ye but bid me rise from this seat, and stand by your side, so that my liege lady
thought it not ill, then would I come to your counsel before this goodly court. For I think it not seemly
when such challenges be made in your hall that ye yourself should undertake it, while there are many
bold knights who sit beside ye, none are there, methinks, of readier will under heaven, or more valiant in
open ?eld. I am the weakest, I wot, and the feeblest of wit, and it will be the less loss of my life if ye seek
sooth. For save that ye are mine uncle naught is there in me to praise, no virtue is there in my body save
your blood, and since this challenge is such folly that it beseems ye not to take it, and I have asked it from
ye ?rst, let it fall to me, and if I bear myself ungallantly then let all this court blame me.”
Then they all spake with one voice that the king should leave this venture and grant it to Gawain.
Then Arthur commanded the knight to rise, and he rose up quickly and knelt down before the king, and
caught hold of the weapon; and the king loosed his hold of it, and lifted up his hand, and gave him his
blessing, and bade him be strong both of heart and hand. “Keep thee well, nephew,” quoth Arthur, “that
thou give him but the one blow, and if thou redest him rightly I trow thou shalt well abide the stroke he
may give thee after.”
Gawain stepped to the stranger, axe in hand, and he, never fearing, awaited his coming. Then the Green
Knight spake to Sir Gawain, “Make we our covenant ere we go further. First, I ask thee, knight, what is
thy name? Tell me truly, that I may know thee.”
“In faith,” quoth the good knight, “Gawain am I, who give thee this buffet, let what may come of it; and at
this time twelvemonth will I take another at thine hand with whatsoever weapon thou wilt, and none
other.”
Then the other answered again, “Sir Gawain, so may I thrive as I am fain to take this buffet at thine
hand,” and he quoth further, “Sir Gawain, it liketh me well that I shall take at thy ?st that which I have
asked here, and thou hast readily and truly rehearsed all the covenant that I asked of the king, save that
thou shalt swear me, by thy troth, to seek me thyself wherever thou hopest that I may be found, and win
thee such reward as thou dealest me to-day, before this folk.”
“Where shall I seek thee?” quoth Gawain. “Where is thy place? By Him that made me, I wot never where
thou dwellest, nor know I thee, knight, thy court, nor thy name. But teach me truly all that pertaineth
thereto, and tell me thy name, and I shall use all my wit to win my way thither, and that I swear thee for
sooth, and by my sure troth.”
“That is enough in the New Year, it needs no more,” quoth the Green Knight to the gallant Gawain, “if I
tell thee truly when I have taken the blow, and thou hast smitten me; then will I teach thee of my house
and home, and mine own name, then mayest thou ask thy road and keep covenant. And if I waste no
words then farest thou the better, for thou canst dwell in thy land, and seek no further. But take now thy
toll, and let see how thy strikest.”
“Gladly will I,” quoth Gawain, handling his axe.
Then the Green Knight swiftly made him ready, he bowed down his head, and laid his long locks on the
crown that his bare neck might be seen. Gawain gripped his axe and raised it on high, the left foot he set
forward on the ?oor, and let the blow fall lightly on the bare neck. The sharp edge of the blade sundered
the bones, smote through the neck, and clave it in two, so that the edge of the steel bit on the ground, and
the fair head fell to the earth that many struck it with their feet as it rolled forth. The blood spurted forth,
and glistened on the green raiment, but the knight neither faltered nor fell; he started forward with outstretched hand, and caught the head, and lifted it up; then he turned to his steed, and took hold of the
bride, set his foot in the stirrup, and mounted. His head he held by the hair, in his hand. Then he seated
himself in his saddle as if naught ailed him, and he were not headless. He turned his steed about, the grim
corpse bleeding freely the while, and they who looked upon him doubted them much for the covenant.
For he held up the head in his hand, and turned the face towards them that sat on the high daïs, and it
lifted up the eyelids and looked upon them and spake as ye shall hear. “Look, Gawain, that thou art ready
to go as thou hast promised, and seek leally till thou ?nd me, even as thou hast sworn in this hall in the
hearing of these knights. Come thou, I charge thee, to the Green Chapel, such a stroke as thou hast dealt
thou hast deserved, and it shall be promptly paid thee on New Year’s morn. Many men know me as the
knight of the Green Chapel, and if thou askest, thou shalt not fail to ?nd me. Therefore it behoves thee to
come, or to yield thee as recreant.”
With that he turned his bridle, and galloped out at the hall door, his head in his hands, so that the sparks
?ew from beneath his horse’s hoofs. Whither he went none knew, no more than they wist whence he had
come; and the king and Gawain they gazed and laughed, for in sooth this had proved a greater marvel
than any they had known aforetime.
Though Arthur the king was astonished at his heart, yet he let no sign of it be seen, but spake in courteous
wise to the fair queen: “Dear lady, be not dismayed, such craft is well suited to Christmas-tide when we
seek jesting, laughter and song, and fair carols of knights and ladies. But now I may well get me to meat,
for I have seen a marvel I may not forget.” Then he looked on Sir Gawain, and said gaily, “Now, fair
nephew, hang up thine axe, since it has hewn enough,” and they hung it on the dossal above the daïs,
where all men might look on it for a marvel, and by its true token tell of the wonder. Then the twain sat
them down together, the king and the good knight, and men served them with a double portion, as was the
share of the noblest, with all manner of meat and of minstrelsy. And they spent that day in gladness, but
Sir Gawain must well bethink him of the heavy venture to which he had set his hand. *****
This beginning of adventures had Arthur at the New Year; for he yearned to hear gallant tales, though his
words were few when he sat at the feast. But now had they stern work on hand. Gawain was glad to begin
the jest in the hall, but ye need have no marvel if the end be heavy. For though a man be merry in mind
when he has well drunk, yet a year runs full swiftly, and the beginning but rarely matches the end.
For Yule was now over-past5, and the year after, each season in its turn following the other. For after
Christmas comes crabbed Lent, that will have ?sh for ?esh and simpler cheer. But then the weather of the
world chides with winter; the cold withdraws itself, the clouds uplift, and the rain falls in warm showers
on the fair plains. Then the ?owers come forth, meadows and grove are clad in green, the birds make
ready to build, and sing sweetly for solace of the soft summer that follows thereafter. The blossoms bud
and blow in the hedgerows rich and rank, and noble notes enough are heard in the fair woods.
After the season of summer, with the soft winds, when zephyr breathes lightly on seeds and herbs, joyous
indeed is the growth that waxes thereout when the dew drips from the leaves beneath the blissful glance
of the bright sun. But then comes harvest and hardens the grain, warning it to wax ripe ere the winter. The
drought driv…
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