Oregon
Literary
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Vol. 2, No. 2

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Stephen Meyer
SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT
A libretto in five scenes


 

 

 

King Arthur

Lord of Britain

 

Queen Guinevere

his wife and Queen

 

Sir Pellinore

Sir Gaherus

Sir Agravaine

 

 

Leading knights at the court of King Arthur

The Green Knight/Sir Bertilak

Lord of the north

 

Sir Gawain

Nephew of King Arthur and one of his leading knights.

 

The Lady Elaine

Daughter of Bertilak, Lady of the Fountain

 

Vivienne

One of Queen Guinevere’s ladies, who dances with the king in the final scene (non-singing role)

 

Lords and Ladies of the court

 

 

SCENE ONE: The throne room of Arthur’s castle. It is Christmas Eve, and the room is filled with well-dressed lords and ladies. The hall is brightly lit, and musicians are playing cheerful tunes. Everyone appears to be merry, and it is clear that the wine has already been flowing freely for many hours. Downstage left is a large sturdy table, set with sumptuous plates and cups.

 

Arthur motioning toward the table:

 

Now my lords and ladies all

Whose splendor crowns my humble hall

I beg you, take your places here

to join with me in the Christmas cheer

 

The lords and ladies move to the table—each takes his or her glass

 

We drink to you, o Infant King

Whose tiny head is crowned with gold

And of your glory now we sing

The newborn King of all the world

 

Lord and Ladies

 

We drink to you, o Infant King

Whose tiny head is crowned with gold

And of your glory now we sing

The newborn King of all the world

 

The lords and ladies drink their Christmas toast

 

Guinevere aside, as the merriment continues in the background

 

We sing the praises of His mother mild

And yet my womb is barren, without child

My youth has faded, my body feels worn and old

The light in us has dimmed, the fire grown cold

 

In an attempt to dispel her mood, Guinevere now addresses the lords and ladies

 

Valiant knights I pray you tell and sing

Of far-off lands, of strange and wondrous things

Let one of you step forward, do his part

To fire my soul, and thaw my wintry heart

 

Sir Pellinore

 

Pellinore wants to tell about the splendors of his brother’s castle and court

 

Lords and ladies, I’ll tell you a tale

To fill your hearts with envy

I’ll tell of my brother’s Christmas court

In the land of Gold and Plenty

 

My brother is the richest king

In all the Eastern lands

His castle stretches for a league and a half

Above the golden sands

 

In Zanzibar, where even his servants

Wear rubies and diamond rings

The slop for his pigs is filled with gold

And other precious things

 

When last I counted, his beautiful wives

Numbered twenty or twenty one

 

The other Lords and Ladies look at each other nervously as the Queen begins to show obvious displeasure. Sir Gaherus interrupts

 

Sir Gaherus

 

Enough, my friend; can’t you see

That the gems and diamonds you describe

Are trifles at our lady’s court

And pale beside her lovely eyes

 

Guinevere looks with favor at Sir Gaherus

 

I’ll sing a song of deepest love

My truest heart’s devotion

Of how I wooed the Irish Queen

In the land across the ocean

 

When I was young my waist was slim

My flowing hair was gold and bright

No lady could resist my charms

I truly was a glorious sight

 

‘Twas then I cast my hopes and fears . . .

 

Sir Agravaine interrupting, with drunken swagger

 

How many times must we listen to your boasting?

You sickly, smarmy, sad-faced bore!

Any man worth the name leaves love to the ladies

And earns his fame on the field of war

 

If you ladies don’t mind a tale of battle

I’ll tell of my fight with the Turkish hordes

On that terrible day in the August heat

Down on the sands of the Desert of Gore

 

Pellinore

 

My friend, you exaggerate

The heat was really not that great

 

Gaherus

 

Indeed, my lord, as I remember

August had past; it was September

 

Agravaine trying to ignore the other knights

 

The Turks had gathered high on a hill

Forty thousand strong, or more

We were a brave but weary band

of fifty-three or fifty-four

 

Pellinore

 

Agravaine, that is not right

The Turks had already lost the fight

 

Gaherus

 

By the time you got up from your drunken bed

The Turks had already turned and fled

 

Some of the ladies begin to laugh at Agrivaine, while others attempt to help him back to his seat. But the drunken knight insists on continuing his tale. Arthur and Guinivere look on with increasing displeasure.

 

Agravaine

 

The shields flashed bright in the noonday sun

As the Turks began their dread advance

I dug my spurs in my horse’s flank

And lowered my long and trusty lance

 

The Lords now begin to speak all at once, some claiming that the battle took place in September, others that it was nothing compared to the horrible fight with the Hungarians on the Salt Plains. The Ladies express their boredom. As the clamor reaches its height, a door in the back of the room swings open, and a tall, strongly-built Knight enters the room. He is clad all in green from head to toe, and in his hands he holds a gigantic battle-axe.

 

The Green Knight

 

Is this Arthur’s Court?

 

Arthur

 

I am King Arthur

 

There is an awkward silence as the stranger remains standing in the doorway

 

Guinevere stepping out from the table and beckoning to the Green Knight

 

I can see by your rain-soaked clothes and the snow on your face

You’ve traveled far; now come and take a place

 

The Green Knight

 

I do not come to beg for food

From pampered queens, nor do I want

To share a cup of wine with drunken lords

I seek the truth, and nothing more

Be true to me, and I’ll be on my way

 

Arthur

 

Friend, your words are harsh and plain

But all who come are welcome here

Speak your truth, then come and share

An honest cup of Christmas cheer

 

The Green Knight

 

My lands lie far in the frozen North

But even there, Arthur, I’ve heard your name

Minstrels tell of your wonderful court

Your brave strong knights, your ladies fair

But your men are lazy and fat, I see, and the women

Are no more beautiful than any others

Beneath their velvet and gold and costly pearls.

 

General commotion. Gaherus, Pellinore, and Agravaine all rise up with anger. They reach for their weapons and move to attack the Green Knight.

 

Guinevere

 

Peace my Lords, silence, dearest friends

Manners are different in the North, I’m sure

Our guest the noble Knight meant no offense

He must be tired, I’m sure he’ll make amends

 

The Green Knight

 

I didn’t come, o Queen, to share in flowery speech

And manners, I find, are often masks

To shelter cowards [Agravaine rushes angrily towards the Knight]; I come

To ask if anyone would be so bold

To play a simple Christmas game with me:

 

Let he who dares now take this axe

And give me one of his stoutest blows

In one year’s time let him come to me

I’ll pay him back, and then we’ll see

If Arthur’s fame is just and true

Or merely empty words

 

Lords and Ladies [in consternation and bewilderment]

 

What does this mean?

What game is this?

There must be something he’s concealing

Who is this knight?

What is his plan?

There’s something more he’s not revealing

 

Agravaine

 

No one can doubt my bravery

I’ve demonstrated that on the field of war

But I’ll have no truck with knavery

The man’s a brute, and nothing more

 

Gaherus

 

I’ve often fought with fearsome foes

But the knight is so ill-bred and coarse

His taunts cannot force me to risk my life

I reject his challenge, with no remorse

 

Pellinore

 

While we sit and hear this useless chatter

The beer goes flat and the meat grows cold

Send the Green Knight back to his home

with a jug of ale and a sack of gold.

 

Gawain has been sitting a little apart from the others at a far corner of the table, but now he leaves his place and moves to the center of the stage.

 

Gawain

 

Your words are strange, Green Knight

and fill my heart with fear

Yet Gawain can’t deny a guest at Arthur’s court

A chance to play his favorite game

Give me your axe, and I swear to you

Your neck will feel its steely bite

With any luck you’ll never live

To pay me back for my strong sharp blow

Then we’ll be rid of your harsh rude words

That have spoiled our Christmas merriment

 

The Green Knight hands Gawain his battle axe and removes his cloak in order to bare his neck. He strides over to the table and roughly pushes aside some plates and cups, making a place where he can stretch out his torso. He lays his head on the table in front of Gawain in expectation of his blows

 

Guinevere

 

Gawain I beg you, leave the game

Leave the Green Knight’s axe alone

There’s something in his deep loud voice

That strikes a dark and sinister tone

 

Gawain

 

My Queen, I thank you for your deep concern

But in the Green Knight’s glance I see

A challenge I cannot refuse

He shames me, my queen, he shames us all

 

Gawain swings the axe and brings it down with enormous force on the Green Knight’s neck. Although the blow severs the Knight’s neck, he nevertheless lifts his head from the table and puts his cloak back on

 

The Green Knight

 

Gawain, your blow shows a doughty arm

Well-trained in the arts of battle and war

I thank you for the game, but remind you now

The terms of our bargain must be paid

In the Green Chapel on Christmas Day

in one year’s time—I’ll expect you there

To bare your delicate neck for me

to swing the broad and deadly axe.

 

In order to reach this holy place

Go north through the wilderness of Grief

To the very end of the frozen path

Leave plenty of time—it takes a month

To ride through the wastes of my northern home

Remember your promise—your honor and soul

Depend on the truth with which you play

This deadly game, the game of life

 


SCENE TWO: A frozen wilderness, dimly illuminated by the full moon. On the left is a small, crudely-built hut in which the lady Elaine is kneeling by a small fire. Gawain enters upstage right, without seeing the hut. He seems on the brink of exhaustion.

 

Gawain

 

My horse is lame, and the night is now so cold

That even the stars seem to shudder in their celestial frame

Time itself has frozen still

 

How I long to turn my horse’s face

again towards the warmth of the southern sun

to feel again the heat of a fire, to smell a feast

prepared with love, to hear again the laughter of friends

 

Why must I pay so dearly now

For a moment’s whim?

Why must I perish here with cold

or offer my neck to the Green Knight’s axe

For a promise rashly made when half stupefied with wine?

 

For honor? For the right to be named a Companion of the King?

To fulfil the knightly vows that I once made so long ago?

 

Recalling his vows, Gawain becomes calmer

 

With fear and dread I passed the sacred door

And kindled there the altar’s holy fire

I knelt upon the church’s hard stone floor

To ask the Lord to grant my heart’s desire

 

In hope and penitence, I passed the night

My heart was full of sacrifice and love

When morning came, the church was filled with light

And above the altar, I saw the holy dove

 

The church soon filled—Arthur’s court was there

Robes were gleaming, armor flashing bright

I took the vows of service, faith and prayer

And with his sword the king made me a knight

 

The cold seems redoubled, and Gawain’s noble mood vanishes.

 

How vain my noble vows seem now!

How empty the great king’s solemn pomp!

Honor can neither warm me nor fill my belly

Like a brute beast I die here of hunger and cold

 

Yet what do I see?

A wisp of smoke from a hidden fire?

A shepherd’s hut, or lonely hermit’s cell?

 

Gawain approaches the door of the hut and knocks upon it

 

If anyone is within, open please, and have mercy on a dying man

 

Elaine to herself

 

I wish only to be alone with my grief

But in giving mercy, perhaps I will find it myself.

 

to Gawain

 

Enter, traveler, share my poor meal and little fire

 

Gawain

 

May God reward you!

 

Gawain enters and removes his snow-covered cloak

 

Elaine

 

I can see by your beautiful robes, good sir

That you have traveled far from your home

Such lovely things cannot be found

In the humbler homes of our northern land

 

Gawain

 

Indeed, fair lady, I come from Arthur’s court

 

Elaine with sudden anger

 

Arthur’s court!

 

That gaudy shell that only serves to hide

A rotten core of sin and empty pride!

 

Gawain taking offense

 

By what right do you sully the noble name

Of Arthur the king, whose splendid fame

And magic sword, and mighty spear

Makes friends delight, and enemies fear?

 

Elaine

 

By what right, you ask, by what right?

 

I speak the truth by the right of my grieving

My long quiet years of pain and woe

I speak the truth of the crime committed

By Arthur’s companion, so long ago

 

I was once married to the best of husbands

A noble man, both brave and good

He guarded a fountain whose crystal water

Gave healing to all who drank of its flood

 

All people were free to drink of this fountain

But they had to obey this single law

All people who would drink of its water

Must approach with humility and awe

 

One day a knight rode from Arthur’s court

His horse was hot, and lathered with sweat

“Fetch me a drink,” he said to my husband

“And I’ll be forever in your debt”

 

“Certainly, sir” replied my husband

“But first lay aside your shield and sword

You must set down your lance and armor

Before the water can be poured”

 

“I’m a Companion of the great King Arthur

And will never disarm for knight or knave

Defend yourself, or step aside

And give me the water I so desperately crave”

 

My husband was neither knight nor knave

But a more valiant man could not be found

Although he had neither sword nor armor

He bravely stood the hallowed ground

 

Then the knight charged, and killed my husband

And threw his fair body into the mud

But the cruel man’s thirst remained unslackened

For the healing water had turned to blood

 

During the preceding music, Gawain sees the suffering of Elaine, and is gradually overcome by anguish and remorse

 

Gawain:

 

Lady, that river of blood flows still between us

I cannot stay beneath your roof

Let the cruel hand of Winter be your avenger

Let his cold justice fall on my head!

 

Gawain rushes out into the cold night once more

 


SCENE THREE: A luxuriously appointed room in a castle of Sir Bertilak. The walls are hung with rich tapestries that depict various hunting scenes, and in the middle of the room is a large bed, covered with silken sheets. Gawain is lying asleep on the bed. Near the bed Sir Bertilak stands. He is elegantly dressed, in expensive fabric and rich furs, and looks upon Gawain with concern. In the corner of the room is a sack filled with game, a bow with a quiver of arrows, a horn, and other accoutrements of the hunt. As the music of the entr’acte ends, Gawain begins to awaken.

 

Bertilak

 

Friend, do you waken?

Has the fever and delirium finally past?

 

offering water and bread

 

Here’s something to drink

and bite of bread to sustain the body

 

Welcome guest, it gives me joy

that the faithful care of my loving Elaine

has helped to heal your dreadful wounds

to soothe your soul and soften your pain

 

I found you on my daily hunt

Half frozen by winter’s icy breath

You had only a couple of hours, no more

Before you felt the hand of death

 

I rejoice to see you raise your eyes

to the world of light and love once more

Now let me know from whence you came

Tell me your story, I implore

 

Gawain

 

I thank you for your great kindness, my lord

But I fear that your efforts will bring little reward

For though you have saved me from the door of death

I must soon approach that door again

 

My name is Gawain and I’ve traveled far

From Arthur’s court, to fulfil a promise rashly made

A promise to a demon, the dread Green Knight

A year ago, I gave him three blows, and now I must

Receive three blows in turn

 

On Christmas Day I must search and find

The Chapel Green, where the fiend himself

Awaits me with his mighty axe

His hard green eyes will show no mercy

and I soon must meet my doom

 

My only fear is that in my sleep

I have missed the day, and the harsh Green Knight

Holds me in contempt, and Arthur’s court

Is dishonored by my failure

 

Bertilak

 

Sir Gawain, put your heart at ease

The Chapel Green is only a mile away

And although your wounds are heavy and sore

You have slept for only a night and a day

 

Christmas eve is upon us now

The snow is crisp, the moon is high

My impatient ear hears the wild game calling

I will hunt tonight under starry sky

 

Sir Gawain, I leave you then

To the care of my daughter, the Lady Elaine

She approaches now, with a cup of warming broth

and will care for you when I am away

 

Bertilak exits. Elaine enters, carrying a cup of broth. When Gawain sees that she is the same woman he met in the hut, the widow of the man that he killed, he sits up in bed with a sudden start, then puts up his hands as if to push her away.

 

Elaine

 

Take this, Companion of the King

All of God’s creatures must eat

 

She carries the broth to Gawain and tries to give it to him, but he will not take it.

 

Gawain

 

Do not call me the King’s companion

God himself has forsaken me

 

How can I eat from the hand of a woman

Whose husband I killed in thoughtless sin

 

I understand now the plan of God

To make me see, in the last days of life

The empty darkness of my soul

 

Elaine

 

Indeed, Companion, you have hurt me more deeply

Than you can ever imagine

 

After you left the forest hut

I realized that I had given shelter to my husband’s murderer

The man whom I hate above any other

When first my lord Bertilak brought you in

My grief burned more hotly still

I longed to tell him who you were

So that he might kill you there, as you killed my husband

Or leave you out in the cruel night

to let the cold frost work my justice.

 

But killing you, or causing you to be killed

Would not bring my husband back, or heal my pain

Take then this broth, and if you must

Regard it as God’s mercy, not my own

 

Gawain

 

Gawain takes the cup of broth and drinks from it.

 

I thank you for your mercy, good lady

And understand that the very sight of me

Must be hateful to your eyes.

I will not detain you—but you should know

That God’s justice is near.

 

Tomorrow I must meet my doom

At the hands of the dread Green Knight.

Only the nearness of my own death

Emboldens me to beg for forgiveness

And to ask if there is any way

I can make amends for my heartless deed.

 

Elaine

 

What’s done cannot be undone

But there is one gesture that you can make