Morgan Le Fay:

The story that you are about to hear was all my doing. I wished it, I willed
it, I spelled it. So listen well little ones, for I am Morgan Le Fay – the
sorceress, no less – the queen of the Welsh Witches, and the enchanting
enemy of King Arthur.

I worked out these wonders because my womanly heart demanded an

answer to a question: What is it that makes a man? Is it valour in battle?
Is it a tongue that speaks true? Or is it a way with words that sways the
ladies? And what beasts must a true knight slay? Serpents that breathe
fire, or demons that whisper desire?

And so I sought a man to test. Not just any puny little man, but the finest
fellow who rode a horse since Felix Brutus left behind the flaming city of
Troy, and founded the race of brawling, warring, strife-loving men that
are known as the Britons. The most famous among the Britons is Arthur,
their King. But the noblest, the knight who perfectly combines courtesy
and valour - whose every word, whose every gesture, is governed by the
courtly code of chivalry, is not the king himself, but his nephew, Sir
Gawain. He is the one. If he can not pass the test that I set, then no man
can.
-

It is Christmas. Picture the splendid scene at Camelot Castle. The lords

and ladies who gather at Arthur’s court are the best in the kingdom. The
men are handsome, the women are pretty - and all are carefree and gay.
They celebrate the festive season with games and jousting, dancing and
carol singing. You can hear their noisy noels from ten miles away. For a
full fifteen days they celebrate, until at last a shiny New Year is about to
be born. After Mass in the chapel. the noble lords hold up New Year gifts
in their hands. The ladies play guessing games for the prizes, and laugh
out loud even when they lose and have to forfeit a kiss.

Such were the scenes that led up to dinner time. As the feast began, King
Arthur took his place on the high table. All around were noble knights
and fair ladies, and Queen Guinevere sat in their midst. Silks shimmered
and jewels sparkled, but the brightest gems were the queen’s shining
eyes.

Trumpets and drums heralded the courses. I will not describe the
sumptuous dishes that were laid before them, as you can well imagine
that no-one lacked anything. All I will note is that King Arthur sat still.
He did not lift a morsel to his mouth - for it was his custom not to eat on
such occasions until he had seen, or heard tell, of something wonderful -
and that is when I sent my creature in.

My man rattled the door and came clattering into the hall on his horse. He
was a giant, a man mountain, but although his shoulders and chest were
as broad and square as battlements, his waist was boyishly slender. He
was the biggest but also the most handsome of men. The gaze of every
lord and lady was upon him. What amazed them most was that every
aspect of the man was bright green. His tunic and fur-trimmed cloak were
green. His leggings, the same. His hands were green. His face was green.
His beard and long flowing hair were as green as grass. His eyes were
like emeralds. His horse? Yes, you’ve guessed it - that was a good shade
of green. In one hand he held a sprig of green holly. In the other a
monstrous, fearsome green axe. Its head was a yard wide. Yet he wore no
armour, nor carried any other weapon.
The green axeman rode into the hall, and head for the high table. When at
last he spoke, this is what he said...

The Green Knight:

“Who is the governor of this gang? I wish to set eyes on his face and
speak with him.”

Morgan Le Fay:

He cast his gaze on the knights, and looked them up and down as he
studied their faces, and considered who was the most renowned of them
all.

They looked back at him, and the longer they looked at him, the greener
he seemed to grow. No one spoke a word. I would not put their silence
down to fear, for here in the hall sat the bravest knights in all
Christendom. Rather, let us say, it was courtesy that held down every
tongue, until at last Arthur saluted the visitor and greeted him thus...

Arthur:

"Sir, you are welcome here. Please dismount from your horse, and join us
at this feast."

The Green Knight:

"No, so help me, I do not invite myself to your table. I am no gatecrasher.

By the sign of this stick of holly, you may be sure that I come in peace.
See, I wear civilian clothes. Had I war on my mind, I would have come
differently dressed. At home I have a sharp spear and a shining helmet -
but your fame and your love of thrill draws me here at this merry time of
year. The greatest knights in all Christendom celebrate in this hall. All I
ask is that one step forward, and join me in a game, a Christmas contest
shall we say, a spot of sport."

Arthur:

"Sir courteous knight, if it is single combat that you seek, you will not fail
to find a fight here."

The Green Knight:

"I tell you in good faith, I came to this court in search of some festive fun.
It is the very season for games. If there is any lad here so bold in his
heart, so thoughtless in his head, that he will trade me one blow for a
blow, then I will give him this axe as a prize. It is great and heavy and he
may do with it as he pleases. I shall grant his blade first strike against my
bare neck. I shall stand here and not flinch. He may cut with all his force,
but only once. If anyone will do me this favour, let him step forward. All
I ask is a single strike on the same terms. There will be no rush to claim
my right. I will wield my return cut, a year and a day from now. Come…
Such silence? Does anyone have anything to say?"

Morgan Le Fay:

If they were stunned before, they were more stunned now. The green
knight twisted and turned in his saddle, and cast his emerald gaze on each
and every face.

The Green Knight:

"What? Is this Arthur’s house? Are these the knights about whom the
whole world chatters? Where are the dragon-slaying, grail-seeking,
maiden-saving, questing, besting, knights of the renowned round table?
Can they be these boys who will not trade one little blow for another?"

Arthur:

"By heaven, no-one here is afraid, merely baffled by your foolish request.
Give me your axe by Mary, and I will grant you the cut that you desire."

Morgan Le Fay:

The green knight that I had sent stepped down from his horse and handed
the axe to the king. He stood bare-necked, without the slightest quiver or
shiver, and stroked his beard. Arthur swung the axe about, testing it for
weight and balance. But before he was ready to deal the blow, there came
a voice from the high table.

Sir Gawain:

"My worshipful Lord. If you will, command me now to rise from this
bench and to stand by you there. I do not think it right that you, my Lord,
should take up this haughty challenge here in your hall. So many of the
boldest men on earth sit here all around. I myself am the weakest, and my
life counts the least. If I were not your nephew, no one would pay me any
regard. To speak to the point - let us risk my neck, not yours."

Morgan Le Fay:

The leading nobles gathered, and they all advised one and the same, that
the crowned king should give Sir Gawain this game.

Sir Gawain:

"Let Saint Mary be my witness. I, Sir Gawain, take this axe to strike one
blow against the green neck of our guest, according to his own wishes.
And one year and a day from now I will accept a similar blow against
myself, from none other than this same green knight."

The Green Knight:

"I thank you for this favour. I incline my head to you sir, and sweep aside
my long flowing hair so you may take a better aim at my nape. Deal your
single blow. You will not see me flinch."

[Sound effect of axe and uproar]

Sir Gawain:

"And now courteous guest, I have granted your strange wish. Your head
is parted from your shoulders. You will not, I think be dealing any blow
against me a year and a day from now, nor on any day...

Hey, what in Heaven or Hell’s name is this? He, headless, stands quite
still. Must I believe my eyes? He springs across the floor. His hands reach
under the tables and among the diners’ feet. He picks up his head like a
ball. He vaults back up onto his horse. Now the blubbery green lips move.
He... It speaks!"

The Green Knight:

"your honour, do not fail, Sir Gawain, and do not forget. Remember your
oath before all these knights seated here. A year and a day from now,
your quest is to find me. Be sure to ask for the Knight of the Green
Chapel. Many men know me. Ask and you shall not fail to find. On New
Year’s morning take your blow, as I have just taken mine. It is right and
just. Come, or be called a coward."

Morgan Le Fay:

The hooves of his horse clatter out of the hall. The wild man in green is
gone. Sir Gawain is speechless, though all those seated around the hall
discuss the marvel they have just witnessed. The King takes Sir Gawain
by the arm.

King Arthur:

"My noble nephew, hang your axe up on the wall above the the high
table. In Christmases to come, those who feast here will gaze up at it and
remember your wondrous game. Eat and be merry. The year is young."

[Fade up some music]

Morgan Le Fay:

The year turns hastily on, through lean Lent, burning summer and mellow
autumn. At last the calendar reaches All Saints' Day, and Sir Gawain
recalls his grim quest. He must set out and seek the blow against his own
neck, according to the rules of the game. Little does he know that it was I,
Morgan Le Fay, who devised the rules of this sport. Soon I shall see what
stuff this man is made of. He says his final goodbyes to the famed knights
and ladies of Camelot. Last, but not least, he kneels before Queen
Guenevere.

Sir Gawain:

"Gracious queen, you honour me with your tears, but I cannot share your
regrets for the life of your faithful knight. We must all submit to our
fate."

Morgan Le Fay:

Servants set out his armour on a silk carpet. He held up his spiked helmet
and kissed it. He stepped into his grieves. His batman buckled him into
his breastplate. Five men lifted him up onto his horse. Over his shoulder,
he slung his shield on which was emblazoned, in gold, his five pointed
symbol – the sign by which all knew him as the noble Sir Gawain.
Sir Gawain:

(Softly) Our Father who art in Heaven, I pray that the sacred star of my
shield shall guide me and protect my honour. King Solomon devised this
everlasting knot. Each point of the perfect pentangle reminds me of my
duty. Lead me not into temptation with my five senses, Deliver me from
sinning with the five fingers of my hand. Give me strength from the five
wounds of your son, our saviour. Let me find comfort in the five joys of
St. Mary - and let me not waver from the five virtues of a true knight:
Generosity of heart, faith to words, purity of mind and body, courtesy to
high and low, and sympathy for those who suffer.

Morgan Le Fay:

As soon as he had spoken this prayer, he dug his golden spurs into the
side of his steed, and its hooves sent sparks flying off the cobbles.

He wandered westwards, through dark forests, over high mountains, and

across fast flowing rivers. On his way he met wild trolls and ogres, bulls,
bears, dragons and all manners of abominable beasts. He dealt with them
as a knight should, with his sword and lance when needs be. The rain, the
sleet and the snow showed him no pity. His only company was
Gryngelot, his horse. His only shelter was his armour - but all these
sufferings were nothing to him. Still he quested on, until at last, on the
eve of Christmas Day, he prayed to St. Mary for a chapel where he could
hear mass. He crossed himself three times as he came over the brow of
the hill, and the turrets and battlements of a strong but handsome castle
came into view. With hope in his heart, he spurred Gryngallt down the
grassy slope to the deep moat at the end of the drawbridge.

Sir Gawain:

"Good Porter! Please, be my messenger. Go to the noble lord of this

house. Tell him an errant knight is at his door, and humbly begs shelter."

Porter:

"I believe, by St. Peter, that you will find a welcome within these walls."

Morgan Le Fay:

The porter was not a bad sort. He returned soon with company to help the
guest down from his horse. As he stood in his resplendent armour,
knights and squires came out of the halls and knelt before him on the cold
ground.
Sir Gawain:

"Please, please, noble sirs. There is no need at all to kneel. I am a humble

knight like yourselves, a follower of King Arthur and the round table. I
come to your land on an errand. I must meet the one who goes by the
name of the Knight of the Green Chapel."

Morgan Le Fay:

As he spoke, the noble lord of the castle stepped out. He was tall, broad
and handsome, splendidly dressed in an ermine-lined cloak.

Bertilak:

"Gracious Sir Gawain. The five pointed star on your shield speaks your
name. My own is rather less renowned – though it is known well enough
around these parts. I am Bertilak. You are most welcome here. Treat
everything that is mine as yours! Do with it what you wish. My page boys
will free you from your armour and bring you fine clothes. Then join us
by the fire and warm your limbs."

[Fade up sound of fire and laughter and music]

"My lords, ladies, see I hold up my hood on my spear. I offer it as a prize

to the one who makes us laugh the most this Christmas!"

[music fades into bells]

"It is the midnight hour. The monks call us to mass."

[Sound of Chanting]

Morgan Le Fay:

Inside the chapel, Sir Gawain kneeled at the pew, and asked forgiveness
for his sins that Christmas night. When he arose from his prayers, he
noticed a lady who had joined the company of women. Although the
others were fair, she was far fairer still. She was more beautiful than even
Queen Guenevere, so he thought. Leading her by the hand was another
lady, though quite different to look at. The one lady was in the ripeness of
youth, the other was old and dry. The one wore bright pearls around her
white throat and over her soft breast. The other covered her eyes and hair
with a veil, and wrapped herself in a cloak. The one had delicate dewy
lips and the other’s were purple and swollen. If the young lady
commanded respect among those around her, the older received sill more.
Sir Gawain:

"Good ladies, I am Sir Gawain. Let me be your knight. Allow me to serve

you."

Lady Bertilak:

"You may serve us with the art of your conversation. It is not often we
have the pleasure of such courteous company."

Bertilak:

"My wife longs for the courtly manners of Camelot. Out here in the sticks
we barely know how to hold a knife at the table!"

Sir Gawain:

"Lady Bertilak, I will do all I can to keep you entertained, but do not
over-expect. I am, at bottom, a man of action and not words."

Morgan Le Fay:

They spent the Christmas days in laughter, song and feasting. Among the
ladies, the oldest, of whom I have spoken, took the place of honour at the
table. Lady Bertilak was often at the side of Sir Gawain. They exchanged
many glances and many words, though all of them quite proper. She
seemed to delight in his conversation - and he in her company. In truth,
she diverted him from dark thoughts of the blow that he must receive. She
made him feel that that this short life, though often brutal, had been worth
living.

[Fade up some music]

Sir Gawain:

"Dear hosts. The last time I rejoiced so much and so freely at Christmas
was when I was a boy. I thank you for these delights. But now it is time
for me to leave your welcoming roof and to pick up my quest. I have
sworn to meet the Knight of the Green Chapel this New Year’s morning,
and just three more days remain for me to seek my destiny."

Bertilak:

"Leave? I will not hear of it. The chapel of which you speak is a mere two
miles from here. It makes no sense to leave us so soon. Rest in comfort
for three more days and on New Year’s morning, my servant will guide
you to the Chapel of the Green Knight."

Lady Bertilak:

"I would not blame you if you are in a rush to leave. I quite understand if
our company bores you. We cannot compete with the ladies of Camelot
for refined entertainment, although we do our best to amuse our guests.
But Sir, for my sake, if you value me at all, please stay."

Sir Gawain:

"When a lady puts it like that, how can a knight refuse? My debt to you
both for your welcome, is now greater still. I am at your service. I will do
whatever you ask."

Lady Bertilak:

"I will have to think of some little service you can perform."

Bertilak:

"Since you will do whatever I ask, here’s what I suggest: Let’s have a
little festive fun. In the morning I will set out hunting before dawn. You
shall remain here. Rest your limbs and find comfort and amusement
within the walls of this castle. In the evening, when I return, I shall give
you whatever I have caught while hunting. And if you have gained
anything good during the day, you shall give that to me."

Sir Gawain:

"A simple exchange. I see no harm in that."

Bertilak:

"Exactly. Now, do I have your word as a knight that, win or lose, you will
swop straight and true?"

Sir Gawain:

"By the Holy Pentangle on my shield, I swear."

Bertilak:

"Then let us drink to our bargain!"

 You have been listening to the first part of Sir Gawain and the Green
Knight adapted from the Medieval text for Storynory by Hugh Fraser.
The parts of Morgan Le Fay and Lady Bertilak was played by Natasha
Gostwick.

The parts of The Green Knight and Lord Bertilak was played by Sam
Freeman.

And the parts of Sir Gawain and King Arthur were played by me, Richard
Scott.

We present the second and final part of our audio drama (part one is here)
in which Sir Gawain meets his destiny on New Year's Day. He must
allow The Knight of the Green Chapel one strike against him with an axe.
In the meantime he faces a more delicate challenge in the castle of Lord
Bertilak.

 Natasha Gostwick as Morgan Le Fay and Lady Bertilak

 Richard Scott as Sir Gawain and King Arthur
 Sam Freeman The Green Knight and Lord Bertilak
Many thanks to Jon Sayles for his site full of free recordings of early
music which he plays so wonderfully on the classical guitar. Do fill up
your iPod with Jon’s MP3s because there’s some lovely music here.

Adapted by Hugh Fraser for Storynory.

Proofread by Claire Deakin

(pull up sound of hunting horns)

Morgan Le Fay:

Before the cock crowed, the huntsmen and hounds gathered in the
courtyard of the castle. They set out noisily for the forest, with many
barks and calls on the hunting horn. Wild things trembled when they
heard the din. Deer darted along the valley. Soon the hinds were
springing this way and that to flee the flying arrows and the greyhounds
snapping at their feet. Bertilak galloped ahead of the pack, thrilling to the
chase.

But in the castle, the handsome head of Sir Gawain lay on his pillow. His
strong limbs stretched out between the richly coloured covers of the bed.
As the rays of the morning sun fell on his face, he lingered somewhere
between sleep and awakening.

Sir Gawain:
"I hear the latch on the door rise gently. I feel a soft presence in the room.
Do I dream? She parts the curtain of the bed, and settles gently down near
my feet. I feel her blue eyes gazing on my face. What shall I do? Pretend
to sleep on? Better, I think, to find out what brings her here. (Yawning
noise)… My Lady Bertilak…"

Lady Bertilak:

"You, Sir Gawain, are my prisoner. You failed to hear me enter. The
sentries of your five senses were asleep. And now I have taken you by
surprise."

Sir Gawain:

"Fair lady, I beg for mercy. Now, I pray, retreat behind the door so that I
may rise and dress, and then I can receive you more properly."

Lady Bertilak:

"No indeed, my noble prisoner. You shall not rise from your bed. Instead,
I shall tuck you in, and I shall sit here and talk pleasantly with the knight
whom I have caught."

Sir Gawain:

"It is my pleasure to be held captive by one so lovely."

Lady Bertilak:

"Lucky will be the one who marries you. If a woman lived seven life
times, it would be hard to find a husband more handsome, noble and
pleasant."

Sir Gawain:

"Then you are all the more fortunate, because you have already chosen a
husband who is better than me in every respect."

Lady Bertilak:

"I am no longer sure that you are a true knight - for would not a true
Knight seek at least a single kiss from a lady?"

Sir Gawain:

"Very well My lady, if I will grant you one chaste kiss, will you set me
free?"
Lady Bertilak:

"I agree to your terms. In exchange for one kiss, I will release my
prisoner – for now."

Morgan Le Fay:

Lady Bertilak held the knight’s handsome head in her hands, and her lips
gave him a single kiss on the forehead. A moment later, she slipped from
the room. Sir Gawain arose and dressed, and occupied himself happily
until evening when Bertilak returned from the hunt. The whole household
gathered in the great hall to see the cuts of meat, the venison they had
prepared for roasting."

Bertilak:

"Sir Gawain, do you not agree that is a profitable result for a day’s
hunting?"

Sir Gawain:

"It is the finest kill I have seen for many a year."

Bertilak:

It is all yours, Sir Gawain. I give it to you freely as we agreed in our pact.
If you have gained anything good today, will you give it to me?"

Sir Gawain:

"I have indeed won a prize today, but this is all it was..."

Morgan Le Fay:

Sir Gawain embraced his host and kissed him on the forehead as tenderly
as he could manage.

Bertilak:

(laughingly) "Well perhaps your gift was the better of the two. Will you
tell me where you gained this kiss?"

Sir Gawain:

"No Sir. I shall not. The rules of our pact do not stipulate that I must give
you that information."
Bertilak:

"Well thank you for trading so freely. What if we do the same tomorrow?
I will go out hunting in the morning, and you rest in the castle. In the
evening we shall exchange whatever good we have gained during the
day."

Sir Gawain:

"It shall be my honour and my pleasure."

Morgan Le Fay:

They sat that evening eating, drinking, and enjoying their conversation.
At the dawning of the next day, Bertilak led the hunt across the fields
through the mist. At the edge of the marsh, the hounds caught the scent of
a wild boar. A white tusk flashed in the first rays of the sun. The hoary
old beast was fenced in by the snarls of the dogs and the spears of the
men. He lowered his porcupine head and charged at his tormenters.
Arrows flew and ricocheted off his hairy hide. Dogs yelped and men
screamed as the fierce pig gashed them.

Back in the castle, the Lord’s wife slipped once again into the room of Sir
Gawain and softly closed the door behind her.

Sir Gawain:

"Good morning, dear lady."

Lady Bertilak:

"I no longer believe that you are truly Sir Gawain as you say you are.
You are an impostor."

Sir Gawain:

"My lady Bertilak, I cannot think what I have done to put such doubts
into your mind."

Lady Bertilak:

"Why it seems strange that a knight, so famed the world over for his
manners, grace and chivalry to women, should have so promptly
forgotten the lesson I taught him yesterday."

Sir Gawain:
"I beg your forgiveness. What lesson was that?"

Lady Bertilak:

"Why, don’t you recall? The lesson of a kiss."

Sir Gawain:

"Dear Lady. If it pleases you, it shall be my honour to receive one kiss on

the cheek."

Morgan Le Fay:

Lady Bertilak kissed the knight gently on the cheek, and laughingly
questioned him about the art of courtly romance. Sir Gawain deftly
answered her questions, always with great courtesy, but skillfully denying
her the chance to demand any more kisses. Until at last, at mid morning,
he allowed her just one more kiss, a parting one as is proper. She left him
with a loving smile, and he rose and dressed for the day.

Meanwhile, Lord Bertilak stood ankle deep in a cold stream, a sword in

his hand. The great wild boar stood higher up the hill, grunting
menacingly, its bristles on end. It lowered its head and charged with its
ferocious tusks pointing straight at the knight. There followed a fight in
which both rolled over in the stream. It was single combat, man versus
pig, tusk against sword, but the boar got the worst of it, and Bertilak,
though wounded, held its head up high. All around the huntsmen blew
their horns to celebrate the kill and their master’s triumph.

That evening in the castle, Bertilak presented the huge hairy head and the
cuts of pork to Sir Gawain as his gift. Sir Gawain, according to the rules
of the game, gave Bertilak the winnings he had won during his day in the
castle.

Sir Gawain:

[Two Kissing sounds]

Bertilak:

"Ha-ah! This is twice as good today. Two kisses! At this rate you shall be
a rich man. I thank you, Sir Gawain, once again for playing so fairly and
so honorably. By St. Giles, you are the best man I know. Now let us dine
and relax, and tomorrow let us play the game of trades a third and final
time."
Morgan Le Fay:

In the morning, after Mass and a quick bite of breakfast, Bertilak

mounted his horse and led the hunt out over the bright frosty ground. The
hard winter sun rose above the hill tops, and the clouds reached across the
skies with long rosy fingers. The huntsmen released the hounds at the
edge of the woods, and as the horns blew all around, some of the
whippets caught the scent of a fox. The hounds soon caught up, panting
hard, and some of the huntsmen caught sight of a fleeting red flash. The
fox doubled back, dodged through hedgerows, paddled across streams,
slipped through prickly thickets, slid between narrow rocks, and many
times the hounds lost his cunning scent, only to catch it again minutes
later… While in the castle, our noble knight lay sleeping, resting his
strong limbs.

The lady of the house dressed herself in her most lovely robe, and
arranged the pearls over her delicate breast. She trod silently down the
corridor, and slipped into the room of her sleeping guest. He stirred and
groaned, as if he was having some bad dream. She bent low over his head
and softly kissed his face.

Sir Gawain:

"Lady Bertilak. This is the most pleasant awakening."

Lady Bertilak:

"Now I will scold you. You are very much to blame if you do not love the
lady who has come to you so frankly. It is not courteous for a knight to
fend off a woman’s advances, as if they were the stabs of an enemy...

Unless, of course, you love another. Yes, that is the only conclusion I can
draw. You do not return my kisses because you carry the picture of a
sweetheart in your soul, one who is more beautiful and delightful to your
eyes."

Sir Gawain:

"I swear a double oath. I have no sweetheart, nor do I intend to have any
for now."

Lady Bertilak:

"That is very painful for me to hear. Now Sir, let us kiss one more time,
and I will leave you to your rest."
Sir Gawain:

"It will be my great pleasure to receive one more kiss."

Lady Bertilak:

"There. That is your last kiss. But before I leave you with my broken
heart, will you not give me just some little gift? A token of our friendship
that has been so proper, something to ease my sorrow. May I take a glove
to remember you by?

Sir Gawain:

"My glove is nothing special. It is not a fitting gift for a lady."

Lady Bertilak:

"I will make a fair exchange. I will give you this ring in return. Its jewel
is clear and bright, and very costly."

Sir Gawain:

"I could not accept such a gift."

Lady Bertilak:

"Very well. I shall leave you."

Sir Gawain:

"Goodbye, my lady."

Lady Bertilak:

"Unless, perhaps, you will accept something less eye-catching from me.
This green belt which I wear around my waist. I would be glad for you to
have it as your own. It looks plain enough to the untrained eye, but I will
tell you this secret. It was made by the witch, Morgan Le Fay, whom you
have seen, though you may not have known it was her. She is the revered
lady, now old, but once beautiful, who lives under this roof. Long ago,
when she was fresh and young, she loved Merlin the Wizard and from
him she learned much magic. He or she who wears this magical garter is
immune to any weapon. No cut of a sword or an axe can harm the one
who wears it. I think it might prove useful to a man of your profession."

Sir Gawain:
"No harm from any weapon, you say. My lady?"

Lady Bertilak:

"No harm."

Sir Gawain:

"By St. Mary, I shall gladly accept this gift, and thank you with all my
heart."

Lady Bertilak:

"Here, I unclasp the belt from my waist and place it on the end of your
bed. If you are not afraid, I will step closer and give you one more kiss,
the third, and truly the last on this day, and then, upon my word, I shall
leave you. But will you make me this promise, on your honour as a true
knight, that you will say nothing of this gift to my husband?"

Sir Gawain:

"My lady, you have my word. I shall say nothing of this gift."

Morgan Le Fay

With one final kiss, the lady and the knight parted. He rose and placed the
green belt among his things. Hope sprang up in his heart. He believed that
he might yet see the sun set on New Year’s Day. When he was dressed,
he went directly to chapel, asked to see the priest, and made his
confession - though he did not think to mention to the priest anything of
his trust in the green belt of Morgan Le Fay.

Towards the end of the day, the hunting hounds ran the fox to ground,
and cunning Reynard met a swift end. Bertilak returned to the castle with
its mangy red pelt as his trophy.

Bertilak:

"Good Sir Gawain. This is all I have to show my day in the saddle,
though I must say the hunting was fast and fun. I trust your day has
rewarded you better."

Sir Gawain:

"I thank you. I have enjoyed a most pleasant day, and I am in the best of
spirits. This evening I have three gifts to offer you.
[Three kissing sounds]
Sir Bertilak:

"By Mary, you are fortunate to have found such gifts, provided you
struck a good bargain for these three kisses!"

Sir Gawain:

"I believe I did, sir."

Morgan Le Fay:

That night, New Year’s Eve, there was great feasting and rejoicing. Sir
Gawain spoke and jested merrily with all around, and was careful to give
his most special courtesies to Lady Bertilak. Everyone said that they had
not seen the knight in such good spirits since he came to the castle. Until,
at last, it was time to take their leave, and for Sir Gawain to give his
thanks for such a wonderful stay. Guest and host hugged one another, and
commended each other to Christ. Before he retired to bed, Bertilak
appointed a servant to rise at first light to guide Sir Gawain on his way to
the Green Chapel, to meet his destiny.

[Sound of birds and open air]

Servant:

"My noble Sir. If you will grant me my release, I would come no further
with you. The green chapel which my lord commanded me to show you is
just over that crag. Climb up and you shall see it. If you care for your life,
listen to what I suggest: Do not go on. There is a terrible creature who
lives there, half man, half beast - the Knight of the Green Chapel they call
him. He deals death to all who cross his path. No poor man, no priest, no
lord has ever survived an encounter with him. Go further, and you go to
your doom. Instead, if you have good sense, follow the track in the other
direction. It will lead you far away from here. I will tell not a single soul
that you departed from you dark plan. I give you my word. I will say to
everyone who asks that you rode down freely to the Green Chapel."

Sir Gawain:

"Thank you kindly for your well meaning wishes, but I have sworn an
oath that I shall meet the Green Knight on this very morning, and by the
five pointed star of my shield, I will not break with my word."

Servant:
"Then goodbye honoured sir. There are many in the castle, among the
high born and the humble, among the noble and the fair, who greatly
regret your resolve."

[Play up a eery soundscape]

Sir Gawain:

"By Mary, this place is ugly, and over grown with weeds. It is a fitting
place for a wild man in green to do honour to the devil. This is the chill
chapel of ill-fortune. It is the most unholy church I ever entered."

[Play up weird scything nose]

"Why I believe that dreaded sound was made in my honour. Let God’s
will be done. No noise shall frighten me. Where be the master of this
place? It is I, Sir Gawain, come to keep my word!"

The Green Knight:

"Gawain! You are welcome to my abode. You have timed your visit as a
true man should, quite in accord with the pact we made a year and a day
ago. Remove your helmet and let us complete our exchange. I will return
you the blow that I promised."

Sir Gawain:

"I shall stand still and let you strike. But make it a single stroke, for that
is all that was sworn to."

Morgan Le Fay:

Now the fate that I planned was being fulfilled. Sir Gawain inclined his
head and showed the flesh on the back of his neck. Then the Green
Knight lifted his grim weapon aloft, and swung as if he meant to deal him
death. but Sir Gawain swayed sideways, and the blade landed in the green
moss.

The Green Knight:

"Is this Sir Gawain, famed for his courage? I think not. Would a true
knight flinch before death? Did I so much as shiver when you struck my
head from my shoulders in the court of King Arthur?"

Sir Gawain:
"Sir. Strike again and I will not move an inch. Only hurry and get the
deed done."

Morgan Le Fay:

My green man lifted his axe and swung once again with all the might of
his great body, but he stopped it just short of the neck of the knight. Sir
Gawain stood perfectly still, true to his word.

The Green Knight:

"So you have found your courage. I stopped short so you could be hear
my praise and be honoured as a true knight. But these words will be the
last you shall hear for this time I will strike true."

Sir Gawain:

"So strike. The time for games is over."

The Green Knight:

"Since you are in such a hurry to depart this world. I will not detain you."

[Sound effect of blade rushing through air]

Morgan Le Fay:

My man swung, and his blade caught the flesh and drew Sir Gawain’s red
blood from his veins. But the wound was not deep nor did any serious
harm. Feeling the nick on his neck, Sir Gawain knew that his duty was
done. He need stand still no longer. His sword was drawn in a trice.

Sir Gawain:

"You’ve had your swing by St. Mary. Our contract is complete. Now
stand and fight in a contest that is fair."

The Green Knight:

"Hey gentle knight, your anger is understandable, but there is no need for
it. Had I wanted to kill you, believe me, the strike of my axe would have
done for you. See now, I put down my weapon and lift my helmet from
my head. I think, you shall soon see a face that you know."

Sir Gawain:

"Bertilak!"
The Green Knight / Bertilak:

"I offered you one playful blow which did you no harm. This good I gave
you in return for your truth, for on the first day of your trial, you freely
and fairly delivered to me one kiss from my lovely wife. The second blow
that missed you was also my gift, because on the second day of our
bargain you truly surrendered two kisses from my wife. My third blow
stung you, but did you no great harm. I took this slight cut out of your
flesh with justice, for you are wearing something that is mine: The green
garter that my wife gave you, and which is now belted around your waist.
This you should have surrendered to me, by the rules of our pact.

Sir Gawain:

"Oh by St. Mary I see now that I have sinned! I loved my life too dearly
and accepted this gift without telling you. I have failed my word. I have
been disloyal to my host. I am no worthy knight."

The Green Knight:

"Do not be so harsh on yourself, Good Sir. I do not think there is another
knight in the world who would have passed these tests with such honour.
Three times you have proved yourself a true guest and a faithful knight.
How many men, brave and unflinching in battle, are equally strong in the
face of womanly beauty? Not many, I say. And of those, how many so
deftly and courteously weave their way through such a delicate trap. You
are a man apart, I declare, the one true knight."

Sir Gawain:

"No sir. I have failed - and for that I am truly sorry."

The Green Knight:

"The standards you set for yourself are too high. Now return to my walls
where you will be most welcome to stay a little longer."

Sir Gawain:

"No. I thank you. My quest is at an end. I must give you your green belt
and be on my way."

The Green Knight:

"Keep it. I give it freely. Remember me and my lady by it."

Sir Gawain:

"Thank you sir. May God be with you and your good wife. I will always
wear this green garter to remind me of the day I fell short of my duty."

Morgan Le Fay:

And now my test is at an end. What lesson shall we draw from this tale?

Sir Gawain returned to Camelot and related the result of his quest with
great shame. The courtiers laughed to learn of how he was tricked, and
thought it a good sport. King Arthur, if he honoured his knightly nephew
before, he honored him thrice as much now. He commanded that every
knight of the round table should wear a green garter from that time on, in
remembrance of the noblest of their number, Sir Gawain.

And so shall we conclude that this noble knight behaved with shame, fun,
or honour? And to return to my question, what is it that makes a man?

I now have my answer and I give it to you freely. This is the single word
that sums up a man and makes him what he is:

Imperfection.