Egypt :: :: University of Virginia Library

Sir Pelleas was a knight full bold,
And the lady Ettard was fair;
And he won at the tourney a sleeve of gold,
Which he prayed Sir Gawain to bear
To the lady Ettard, as he homeward rode;
Then Sir Gawain by oath was bound,
And he journeyed to where the damsel abode,
And the damsel herself he found.
But when he saw her so brave and bright,
His lust by the fiend was led;
So “Alas!” he cried, “for your own true knight
I left at the tourney, dead!”

Then she made great dole; but a lady fair
May never a long time grieve,
So she gave him her love and she bade him wear
Sir Pelleas' golden sleeve.

Sir Pelleas rides apace, apace,
Fain to behold his fere,
And ever he follows her flying face
By forest and mead and mere;
Till he comes at last to her castle gate,
And the warder has thrown it wide,
And he enters the walls with heart elate
For the love of his beauteous bride.
Then her name he cries; but none replies;
And her damsels are whispering low

By an open window; and soon he spies
A pavilion as white as snow.
He hastens out to the fair green lawn,
And the curtain he pulls aside;
Ah! better for love had he left it drawn;
For there is Ettard, his bride,
In the arms of his friend, asleep! He reels:
Then takes his sword, to slay;
Then pauses. A poor revenge, he feels,
And death too easy a way.
So he leaves the weapon across them both,
Keen shame, that shall never depart;
The symbol and sign of a severed troth,
And the pledge of a broken heart.