Now it happened that as Sir Gawain was riding one day through the country he encountered a troop of knights, followed by a squire, who led a Spanish charger, and about whose neck was hung a shield. Gawain rode up to the squire and said, "Tell me, what is yonder troop that hath ridden by?"

The squire answered, "Sir, Meliance of Lis, a brave and hardy knight."

"Is it to him you belong?" Sir Gawain asked.

"Nay, sir," said the squire, "my master is Teudaves, a knight as worthy as this one."

"Teudaves I know," said Gawain. "Whither fareth he? Tell me the truth."

"He proceedeth to a tourney, sir, which this Meliance of Lis hath undertaken against Thiébault of Tintagel. If you will take my advice you will throw yourself into the castle, and take part against the outsiders."

"Was it not," cried Gawain, "in the house of this Thiébault that Meliance of Lis was nurtured?"

"Aye, sir, so God save me!" said the squire. "His father loved Thiébault and trusted him so much that on his death-bed he committed to his care his little son, whom Thiébault cherished and protected, until the time came when the youth petitioned his daughter to give him her love; but she replied that she would never do that until he should be made a knight. The youth, being ardent, forthwith had himself knighted, and then returned to the maiden. 'Nay,' answered the girl to his renewed suit, 'it shall never be, until in my presence you shall have achieved such feats of arms that I will know my love hath cost you somewhat; for those things which come suddenly are not so sweet as those we earn. If you wish my love, take a tournament of my father. I desire to be certain that my love would be well placed in case I were to grant it.' What she suggested he performed, for love hath such lordship over lovers that those who are under his power would never dare refuse whatever it pleased him to enjoin. And you, sir, sluggish will you be if you do not enter the castle, for they will need you greatly, if you might help them."

To which Sir Gawain answered, "Brother, go thy way, it would be wise of you, and let my affairs be." So the squire departed, and Gawain rode towards Tintagel, for there was no other way by which he could pass.

Now Thiébault had summoned all his kith and kin, who had come, high and low, old and young; but he could not get the permission of his council to joust with his master, for the councillors feared lest he should utterly ruin their castle. Therefore the gates had been walled up with stones and mortar, leaving as the only approach one small postern, which had a gate made of copper, as much as a cart could haul. Sir Gawain rode to the gate, behind the troop that bore his harness, for there was no other road within seven leagues. He found the postern shut and so he turned into a close below the tower, that was fenced with a palisade. He dismounted under an oak and hung up his shields. Thither came the folk from the castle, most of them sorry that the tourney had been abandoned; in the fortress was an aged nobleman, great in land and lineage, whose word no one disputed. A long way off the troop had been pointed out to him, and before they rode into the close he went to Thiébault, and said, "Sir, so God save me, I have seen two companions of King Arthur, worthy men, who ride this way; I advise you to tourney with good hope, for we have brave knights, and servants, and archers, who will slay their horses, and I am certain they will joust before this gate; if their pride shall bring them the gain will be ours, and theirs will be the loss and the shame."

As a result of this counsel Thiébault allowed those who wished to take their arms and sally forth. The knights were right glad, and their squires ran after their horses, while the dames and the damsels climbed high places to see the tourney. Below, in the meadow, they saw the arms of Sir Gawain, and at first thought that there were two knights, because two shields hung from the tree. They cried out that they were fortunate to see two such knights arm. So some thought; but others exclaimed, "Fair Lord God, this knight hath arms and steeds sufficient for two; if he hath no companion, what will he do with two shields? Never was seen a knight who carried two shields at one and the same time. It is very strange if one man means to bear two shields."

While the ladies talked and the knights went forth from the castle the elder daughter of Thiébault mounted to the tower, she on account of whom the tournament had been undertaken, and with her her younger sister, whose sleeves were so quaint that she was called the Maid with the Narrow Sleeves, for she wore them tight. Dames and damsels climbed the tower with them, and the tourney was joined in front of the castle. None bore himself so well as Meliance of Lis, by the testimony of his fair friend, who said to those about her, "Ladies, never did I see a knight who delighted me as doth Meliance of Lis. Is it not a pleasure to see such a knight? That man must have a good seat and be skillful in the use of lance and shield who beareth himself so excellently."

Thereupon her sister, who sat by her side, said that she saw a fairer knight. The elder maiden was angry and rose to strike her sister. But the ladies interfered, and held her back, so that she missed her blow, which greatly incensed her.

In the tournament many lances were shivered, shields pierced, and knights unhorsed; and it went hard with the knight who met Meliance of Lis, for there was none he did not throw on the hard ground. If his lance broke, he dealt great blows with his sword; and he bore himself better than any other knight on either side, to the great joy of his fair friend, who could not resist exclaiming, "Ladies, it is wonderful! Behold the best bachelor knight of whom minstrel hath ever sung or whom eyes have ever seen, the fairest and bravest of all those in the tourney!"

Then the little girl cried, "I see a handsomer one, and 'tis like, a better!"

The elder sister grew hot. "Ha, girl, you were malapert when you were so unlucky as to blame one whom I praised! Take that, to teach you better another time!" So saying, she slapped her sister, so hard that she left on the little girl's cheek the print of her five fingers. But the ladies who sat near scolded her and took her away.

After that they fell to talking of Sir Gawain. One of the damsels said, "The knight beneath yonder tree, why doth he delay to take arms?" A second damsel, who was ruder, exclaimed, "He hath sworn to keep the peace." And a third added, "He is a merchant. Don't tell me that he desireth to joust; he bringeth horses to market." "He is a money-changer," said a fourth. "The goods he hath he meaneth to sell to poor bachelors. Trust me, he hath money or raiment in those chests."

"You have wicked tongues!" cried the little girl. "And you lie! Do you think a merchant would bear such huge lances? You tire me to death, talking such nonsense! By the faith that I owe the Holy Spirit, he seemeth to me a knight rather than a merchant or a money-changer. He is a knight, and he looketh like one!"

The ladies all cried with one voice, "Fair sweet friend, if he looketh so, it doth not follow that he is so. He putteth it on because he wisheth to cheat the tariff. But in spite of all his cleverness he is a fool, for he will be taken up and hung for a cheat."

Now Gawain heard all that the ladies said about him, and he was ashamed and annoyed. But he thought, and thought rightly, that he lay under an accusation of treason, and that it was his duty to keep his pledge or forever disgrace himself and his line. It was for this reason that he took no part in the tourney, lest, if he fought, he should be wounded or taken prisoner.

Meliance of Lis called for great lances, to strike harder blows. Until night fell the tourney continued before the gate; the man who took any booty carried it to some place where he thought it would be safe. Then the ladies saw a squire, tall and strong, who held a piece of a lance and bore on his neck a steel cap. One of the ladies, who was foolish, called to him, saying, "Sir squire, so God help me, it is foolish of you to make prize of that tester, those arms and croup-piece. If you do a squire's duty you deserve a squire's wage. Below, in yonder meadow, is a man who hath riches he cannot defend. Unwise is he who misseth his gain while he hath the power to take it. He seemeth the most debonair of knights, and yet he would not stir if one plucked his beard. If you are wise, take the armor and the treasure, none will hinder you."

The squire went into the meadow and struck one of Gawain's horses, crying, "Vassal, are you sick that all day long you gape here and have done nothing, neither pierced shield nor shivered lance?"

Sir Gawain answered, "Pray, what is it to you why I tarry? You shall know, but not now. Get you gone about your business."

The squire withdrew, for Gawain was not the type of man to whom he would dare say anything unpleasant.

The tourney ended, after many knights had been killed and many horses captured. The outsiders had had the best, and the people of the castle gained by the intermission. At parting they all agreed that on the morrow with songs they would meet again and continue the encounter. So for that night they separated and those who had sallied forth returned to the castle, followed by Sir Gawain. At the gate he met the nobleman who had advised his lord to engage in the tourney. This man accosted him pleasantly, and said, "Fair sir, in this castle your hostel is ready. If it pleaseth you, remain here, for if you should go on it would be long before you arrived at a lodging; therefore I urge you to stay."

"I will tarry, your mercy!" said Gawain. "I have heard worse words."

The man led the guest to his house, talking of this and that, and asked him why on that day he had not borne arms. Sir Gawain explained how he had been accused of treason and was bound to be on his guard against prison and wounds until he could free himself from the reproach that was cast upon him, for it would be to the dishonor of himself and his friends if he should fail to appear at the time appointed.

The nobleman praised him, and said that if this was the reason he had done right. With that he led Gawain to his house, where they dismounted. The people of the castle blamed him, wondering how his lord would take it; while the elder daughter of Thiébault did her best to make trouble for Gawain, on account of her sister, with whom she was angry. "Sir," she said to her father, "on this day you have suffered no loss, but made a gain, greater than you think; you have only to go and take it. The man who hath brought it will not dare to defend it, for he is wily. Lances and shields he bringeth, with palfreys and chargers, and maketh himself resemble a knight to cheat the customs, so that he may pass free when he cometh to sell his wares. Render him his deserts. He is with Garin, the son of Bertan, who hath taken him to lodge at his house. I just saw him pass."

Thiébault took his horse, for he himself wished to go there. The little girl, who saw him leave, went out secretly by a back gate and straight down the hill to the house of Garin, who had two fair daughters. When these saw their little lady they should have been glad, and glad they were, each took her by a hand and led her into the house, kissing her eyes and lips.

In the meantime Garin and his son Herman had left the house and were going up to the castle to speak to their lord. Midway there they met Thiébault and saluted him. He asked whither Garin was going and said he had intended to pay him a visit. "By my faith," said the nobleman, "that will not displease me, and at my house you shall see the fairest of knights."

"It is even he whom I seek," said Thiébault, "to arrest him. He is a merchant who selleth horses and pretendeth to be a knight."

"Alas," said Garin, "'tis a churlish speech I hear you make! I am your man and you are my master, but on the spot I renounce your homage, and in the name of all my line now defy you, rather than suffer you to disgrace my house."

"Indeed," answered Thiébault, "I have no wish to do any such thing. Neither you nor your house shall ever receive aught but honor from me; not but what I have been counseled so to proceed."

"Your great mercy!" exclaimed the nobleman. "It will be my honor if you will visit my guest."

So side by side they went on until they reached the house. When Sir Gawain saw them, he rose out of courtesy, and said, "Welcome!" The two saluted him and took their seats beside him. Then the nobleman, who was the lord of that country, asked why he had taken no part in the tourney, and Gawain narrated how a knight had accused him of treason and how he was on his way to defend himself in a royal court. "Doubtless," answered the lord, "that is sufficient excuse. But where is the battle to be held?"

"Sir, before the king of Cavalon, whither I am journeying."

"And I," said the nobleman, "will guide you. Since you must needs pass through a poor country, I will provide you with food and packbeasts to carry it."

Gawain answered that he had no need to accept anything, for if it could be bought he would have food and lodging wherever he went.

With these words Thiébault took leave. As he departed, from the opposite direction he saw come his little daughter, who embraced Gawain's leg, and said, "Fair sir, listen! I have come to complain of my sister, who hath beaten me. So please you, do me justice!"

Gawain made no answer, for he did not know what she meant. He put his hand on her head, while the girl pulled him, saying, "To you, fair sir, I complain of my sister. I do not love her, since to-day she hath done me great shame for your sake."

"Fair one, what have I to do with that? How can I do you justice against your sister?"

Thiébault, who had taken leave, heard his child's entreaty, and said, "Girl, who bade you come here and complain to this knight?"

Gawain asked, "Fair sweet sir, is this maid your daughter?"

"Aye; but never mind what she says. A girl is a silly creature."

"Certes," said Gawain, "I should be churlish if I did not do what she desires. Tell me, my sweet child and fair, in what manner I can justify you against your sister."

"If it pleaseth you, for love of me, bear arms in the tourney."

"Tell me, dear friend," said Gawain, "have you ever before made petition to any knight?"

"No, sir."

"Never mind her," exclaimed her father. "Pay no heed to her folly."

Sir Gawain answered, "Sir, so aid me the Lord God, for so little a girl, she hath spoken very well, and I will not refuse her. To-morrow, if she wisheth, I will be her knight."

"Your mercy, fair sweet sir!" cried the child, who was overjoyed, and bowed down to his feet.

Without more words they parted. Thiébault carried his daughter back on the neck of his palfrey. As they rode up the hill be asked her what the quarrel had been about, and she told him the story from beginning to end, saying, "Sir, I was vexed with my sister, who declared that Meliance of Lis was the best of all the knights; and I, who had seen this knight in the meadow, could not help saying that I had seen a fairer, whereupon my sister called me a silly girl and beat me. Fie on me, if I take it from her! I would cut off both my braids close to my head, which would be a great loss, if to-morrow in the tourney this knight would conquer Meliance of Lis, and put an end to the fuss of madam, my sister! She talked so much that she tired all the ladies; but a little rain will hush a great wind."

"Fair child," said her father, "I command and allow you, in courtesy, to send him some love-token, a sleeve or a wimple."

The child, who was simple, answered, "With pleasure since you bid me. But my sleeves are so small, I should not like to send them. Most likely he would not care for them."

"Daughter, say no more," said Thiébault. "I will think about it. I am very glad." So saying, he took her in his arms, and had great joy of embracing and kissing her, until he came in front of his palace. But when his elder daughter saw him approach, with the child before him, she was vexed, and exclaimed, "Sir, whence cometh my sister, the Maid with the Narrow Sleeves? She is full of her tricks; she hath been quick about it; where did you find her?"

"And you," he answered, "what is it to you? Hush, for she is better than you are. You pulled her hair and beat her, which grieveth me. You acted rudely; you were discourteous."

When she heard her father's rebuke, the maid was greatly abashed.

Thiébault had brought from his chests a piece of red samite, and he bade his people cut out and make a sleeve, wide and long. Then he called his daughter and said, "Child, to-morrow rise betimes and visit the knight before he leaveth his hostel. For love's sake you will give him this new sleeve, which he will wear in the tourney when he goeth thither."

The girl answered that so soon as ever she saw the clear dawn she would dress herself and go. With that her father went his way, while she, in great glee, charged her companions that they should not let her oversleep but should wake her when day broke, if they would have her love them. They did as she wished, and when it dawned caused her to wake and dress. All alone she went to the house where Sir Gawain lodged, but, early though it was, the knights had risen and gone to the monastery to hear mass sung. She waited until they had offered long orisons and listened to the service, as much as was right. When they returned the child rose to greet Sir Gawain, and cried, "Sir, on this day may God save and honor you! For love of me, wear the sleeve which I carry in my hand."

"With pleasure," he answered; "friend, your mercy!"

After that the knights were not slow to take arms, and came pouring out of the town, while the damsels again went up to the walls and the dames of the castle saw the troops of brave and hardy knights approach.

They rode with loose rein, and in front was Meliance of Lis, who went so fast that he left the rest in the rear, two rods and more. When his maiden saw her friend she could not keep quiet, but cried, "Ladies, yonder comes the man who hath the lordship of chivalry!"

As swiftly as his horse would carry him Sir Gawain charged Meliance of Lis, who did not evade the blow, but met it boldly, and shivered his lance. On his part Sir Gawain smote so hard that he grieved Meliance, whom he flung on the field; the steed he grasped by the rein and gave to a varlet, bidding him take it to the lady on whose account he had entered the tourney, and say that his master had sent her the first spoil he had made that day. The youth took the charger, saddled as it was, and led it towards the girl, who was sitting at the window of the tower, whence she had watched the joust, and when she saw the encounter she cried to her sister, "Sister, there lies Meliance of Lis, whom you praised so highly! A wise man ought to give praise where it is due. You see, I was right yesterday when I said I saw a better knight."

Thus she teased her sister, who grew angry, and cried, "Child, hold your tongue! If you say another word, I will slap you so that you will not have a foot to stand on!" "Oh, sister," answered the little girl, "remember God! You ought not to beat me because I told you the truth. I saw him tumble as well as you; I think he will not be able to get up. Be as cross as you please, I must say that there is not a lady here who did not see him fall flat on the ground."

Her sister would have struck her, had she been able, but the ladies around would not allow it.

With that came the squire, who held the rein in his right hand. He saw the girl sitting at the window and presented the steed. She thanked him a hundred times, and bade the steed be taken in charge. The squire returned to tell his master, who seemed the lord of the tournament, for there was no knight so gallant that he did not cast from the saddle, if he reached him with the lance. On that day he captured four steeds. The first he sent to the little girl, the second to the wife of the nobleman who had been so kind, and the third and fourth to his own daughters.

The tourney was over and the knights entered the city. On both sides the honor belonged to Sir Gawain. It was not yet noon when he returned from the encounter; the city was full of knights, who ran after him, asking who he was and of what land. At the gate of his hostel he was met by the damsel, who did naught but grasp his stirrup, salute him, and cry, "A thousand mercies, fair sweet sir!" He answered frankly, "Friend, before I am recreant to your service, may I be aged and bald! I shall never be so remote, but a message will bring me. If I know your need, I shall come at the first summons, whatever business be mine!"

While they talked her father came and wished Sir Gawain to stay with him for that night; but first he begged, that if his guest pleased, he would tell his name. Sir Gawain answered, "Sir, I am called Gawain. My name was never concealed, nor have I ever told it before it hath been asked."

When Thiébault knew that the knight was Sir Gawain his heart was full of joy, and he exclaimed, "Sir, be pleased to lodge with me, and accept my service. Hitherto I have done you little worship, and never did I set eyes on a knight whom so much I longed to honor."

In spite of urging, Sir Gawain refused to stay. The little girl, who was good and clever, clasped his foot and kissed it, commending him to God. Sir Gawain asked why she had done that, and the girl replied that she had kissed his foot in order that he should remember her wherever he went. He answered, "Doubt it not, fair sweet friend! I shall never forget you, after I have parted hence."

With that Sir Gawain took leave of his host and the others, who one and all commended him to God. That night he slept in an abbey, and had all that was necessary.