The Knight and the Girdle

As a knight who must live my life in accordance with a strict moral code in order to hold myself to the high standards of chivalry that King Arthur mandates for his knights, I find fables interesting.  Though these little stories oftentimes seem to be simple, the morals contained within them are often important truths that even, or perhaps especially, all knights would be well served to remember.  A fable that I came across recently, seemed to be of particular interest to my own situation.

In the tale, a poor rooster searches for food in a dung heap, but finds precious jewel hidden within it.  Rather than keep this valuable prize, the rooster deems it to be of little use to himself as it cannot be eaten, and discards it.  You may wonder how in the world I find this brief story to be of particular interest to me when many other fables have more noble morals attached to them.  You see, the piece of Jasper found by the fowl cannot help but remind me of my own green girdle.

Before you dismiss this notion as mere silliness, consider this, in the moral at the fable’s conclusion, listeners are informed that Jasper “makis ane man stark and victorious,/ Preservis als fra cacis perrillous./ Quha hes this stane sall have gude hap to speid/ Of fyre, nor fallis him neidis not to dreid” (Henryson 123-126).  Is this not startlingly similar to what I was told of the green girdle?  As I feared for my life, the wife of my host told me that the girdle would provide me a means of surviving since I would be unharmed as long as I wore it.  In this fable, it seems that Jasper is of a similar protective property.

Long have I struggled with feelings of shame for accepting, and then concealing the green girdle, which I still wear, not for protection, but as a reminder.  Though I have since been absolved by my host Bertilak for my transgression, I remained troubled by it.  I cannot help it for I have always tried to remain strictly within the bounds of chivalry and have done my best to live my life with the utmost courtesy.  In this tale, however, the fowl is called a fool for leaving such a powerful object behind.  This mirrors the words of my host when he told me that I could not be blamed for taking the girdle as I “wanted to live” (Gawain Fitt IV 2368).  It is suggested that the fowl should have acted as I did and accepted the protection of an amulet such as the Jasper. Although I remain shamed by my behavior, I cannot help but take some comfort in the form of this fable as an additional assurance that I may not have acted entirely in the wrong.

The Power of a Veil

I suppose one could say that I am rather familiar with objects containing miraculous powers.  Granted, in my case perhaps it is more accurate to say objects I thought to have miraculous powers.  Thus, this veil of Veronica is rather interesting to me since it seems to actually have all the power that it is claimed to.  In my case, I was led to believe that a girdle of bright green had the power protect me.  It was claimed that “[f]or whoever is buckled into this green belt,/ As long as it is tightly fastened about him/ There is no man on earth who can strike him down,/ For he cannot be killed by any trick in the world” (1851-4).  With this in mind, along with a dangerous task that I had to undergo, one I believed would lead me to my doom, I engaged in some behavior that haunts me to this day.  I, one of Arthur’s knights, and a man of his own blood, was seized by “cowardice and covetousness” (2508), and broke a bargain, lying in the process.  Such conduct is truly embarrassing to me to this day.  Of course, I did survive, but I think that had less to do with the belt and far more to do with the complexity of the situation.  While I do wear the belt to this day, it is not because I believe it will make me invincible.  Rather, I wear it as a reminder of how far I can fall if I do not live up to the standards that one of Arthur’s knights ought to.  Thus, though it is an important belt, it is not so because of any magical powers.

Of course, this veil of Veronica does in truth seem to have real, and very strong powers for healing.  I was fascinated by the description of it healing the man called Vespian.  When the kerchief was rubbed across him, “[t]he wasps went away—all sorrow went with them— And what was leprous before was now unencumbered” (255-256).  Unlike my girdle, this cloth really did work in the way that it was hailed to.  Of course, no matter how real its healing abilities, it, too, seemed to usher in poor behavior just as my girdle did.  Following this amazing healing, an army was gathered up and sent to lay siege to Jerusalem.  The soldiers “set upon every section of Syria, Despoiling and scorching all left behind. Naught but smoke and lamenting endured in fine towns” (305-307).  Such a miraculous article should lead to celebration, harmony, and healing, not rampant destruction.  By comparison, my own cowardice seems relatively minor, not that I am trying to excuse my poor behavior in the least, of course, it was deplorable in its own way, if slightly different from raising an army.

From these instances, I can conclude that people succumb to their worst natures whenever powerful objects are involved.  Something about them seems to bring out the most negative traits in people.  This is deeply unfortunate, of course, especially when the power within them could be used for the benefit of all, not for inspiring violence and bloodshed.

A Worthy Knight?

For whatever the reason, I have never really felt worthy of the position which I hold in Arthur’s court.  So far as I am concerned, his other knights are bolder, braver, stronger, and generally more talented than I.  How then, you may ask, do I find myself held in such high regard?  In truth, I am Arthur’s nephew.  This is no secret, mind you.  Rather, it is well known throughout the court.  As such, I feel that my companions have perhaps a better opinion of me than I deserve simply because the same noble blood that runs in Arthur’s veins is in mine as well.  Perhaps Arthur keeps me at the high table out of nepotism, or maybe he is blinded by our familial tie.  Which of these are true, I know not.  It does not matter, though, as I feel my position is undeserved regardless.

The time when I was perhaps the most aware of my own inadequacy was one New Year’s during the court’s feast.  As was usual for me, I occupied a seat that communicated to all that Arthur held me in favor.  I was at the high table, “seated beside Guenevere” (109) and many of the best knights Arthur had in his service.  Although I felt out of place being honored so, I enjoyed the feast regardless.  It would have been difficult not to with such mirth and merrymaking all round me!  Still, I was acutely aware of my position.

A great shock came upon the hall that evening, however, when a terrible and mysterious visitor burst into our midst.  He was a tremendous man, and perhaps even more notable than that was the fact that he was completely green, in both skin and dress, save for his terrible rolling “red eyes” (304).  He flew into the hall with no regard for us, mounted on horseback no less!  I was astounded by his brash discourtesy, especially as a feast was in progress.  Then, he had the gall to pose a challenge to the hall.  Shamefully, no one responded.  How I wish that I had spoken sooner!  Arthur, as a result, was forced to take up the challenge, lest the honor of the court be ruined.

However, I could not in good faith let him do such a thing.  Arthur is wonderful, and brave, and noble.  There is no one in England, no, the world, who could be a better king than he.  If he were to come to grief in this strange and supernatural challenge, it would be as if I had killed him by not stepping in myself!  For it mattered little if I died at the hands of this terrifying green knight.  As I have said, “I am the weakest [of Arthur’s court], I know, and the dullest minded,/ So my death would be the least loss” (354-55).  Of course, truth be told, I was terrified to say those words, but I knew them to be right.  I never could have forgiven myself if one of my worthier counterparts had died, or suffered so much as a scratch.  If anything, I thought, perhaps taking the challenge would help me to become just a bit worthier of my place in Arthur’s court, whether I came out of the ordeal alive or not.