This Troublesome Priest

The young boy from Cheapside who grew up to be the nemesis of the King of England, and later, a Saint. The life and achievements of St. Thomas Becket are impressive no matter the times. Just as famous as his deeds however, was his infamous end...

The Angevin Empire at its height
Map created by the author

The twelfth century was a tumultuous time for the young Kingdom of England. Fifty two years before 1118, the year of Thomas' birth, the Saxon dynasty had been overthrown forever, replaced with the iron rule of the Normans. The lives of many, on both sides of the Channel, were changed forever. Around this time, Gilbert Becket decided to move his family from the village of Thierville in Normandy to London, there to seek a new life in the new Norman domain. By the time his son Thomas was born, he was a wealthy and respected London merchant and landowner. Young Thomas spent many a summer on the Sussex estates of the family friend Richer de L'Aigle, whiling away the sunny days hunting and hawking, fine pursuits of a young man. Schooled at Merton Priory and later Grammar School in London, young Thomas received a fine education for the day, thanks to his father's success in business. But dark times were coming. The peaceful days of King Henry I were soon overthrown in a ruinous civil war. After the tragic shipwreck which claimed the life of Prince William Adelin, the broken hearted Henry was left with only his daughter, Matilda, as his hope for an heir. Long did the King try to persuade the English barons to accept her, the first woman to reign in her own right in the history of England. Matilda, whose husband the Holy Roman Emperor Henry V had died not long before, was soon wed to Geoffrey of Anjou, so that Henry I might gain an alliance with the mighty County of Anjou in France. To the relief of the King, the couple produced a male heir, Henry. But when the King died in 1135, the ever suspicious Norman lords refused to acknowledge Matilda, throwing in their lot for Stephen, the Count of Blois, triggering a near twenty year devastating civil war in England between the forces loyal to Matilda, and those loyal to Stephen, in a period infamously known to history as The Anarchy. The war laid waste to vast swathes of Albion, and it was in this destruction that Gilbert Becket once prosperous trade crumbled. Young Thomas took up a job as a clerk to help the family, and soon ended up in the employ of Theobald of Bec, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the most powerful avatar of Christendom in the realm.

King Henry II of England
Image taken from the Manuscipt of the
Historia Anglorum of Matthew Parris

Escaping the turmoil that England had been hurled into, young Thomas marched forth as an emissary of Canterbury to Rome, spending many years in Europe learning the intricacies of many laws of the Church. After what seemed an age without end, there seemed to be hope at last for the dystopic British Isles. In December 1154, after a generation of endless war, the Norman dynasty lay in flames, when Henry the son of Empress Matilda landed on the southern coast of England. On the 19th of December, he was crowned King Henry II of England, Duke of Normandy, Count of Anjou, Duke of Aquitaine and Lord of Ireland, alongside his new Queen, Eleanor of Aquitaine. The House of Normandy was over. The House of Plantagenet, a dynasty that would rule England longer than any other, even to this day, had begun. By conquest and by marriage, King Henry now ruled one of the mightiest realms in Europe, a vast state known as the Angevin Empire. In those bygone days, the kings of England ruled more of France than the King of France did. The lawlessness of the Anarchy was over, and once again the people of England enjoyed peace. With order restored, young Thomas returned triumphantly to the British Isles, and was granted the honour of Archdeacon of Canterbury, and offices in Lincoln Cathedral and St. Paul's Cathedral. The merchant's son was rising rapidly within the ranks of Feudal England...

Thomas Becket Enthroned
Nottingham Alabaster

With all the tenacity and determination that so characterised him, Becket hurled himself into his mission, impressing Archbishop Theobald with his whirlwind efficiency. Such was his drive, within a year the Archbishop recommended Becket directly to the King himself. Further up the rungs of the ladder of state did young Thomas go, when the King appointed him Lord Chancellor, arguably the most powerful minister of the kingdom, and custodian of the Great Seal of the Realm, a spectacular honour for one of such relatively humble birth. Fro seven years Thomas shone once more as comptroller of the King's finances, gaining the King's trust to such a degree that the heir to the throne the young Prince Henry was even sent to live in Becket's household. It was once remarked that the Prince once said that Becket became more a father to him than the King himself. When Theobald died in 1162, the mightiest Bishopric in England fell vacant, and to many there was no doubt as to whom should succeed. A deeply pious man at heart, Becket cast aside the Chancellorship and took the cloth on the 3rd of June, taking vows of asceticism, and pledging to champion the cause of Christendom in England. Storm clouds began to gather between the King and his new Archbishop, dismayed as Henry was that Becket had put the Church before State. It began with the rejection of the authority of secular courts over the clergy by Becket, which challenged the power of the state. Alarmed at this sudden thinking, King Henry conspired to turn the other Bishops against him. Yet rumours of treachery ran common, and in 1164, the King decreed, near four hundred years before Henry VIII, that England would not automatically bow to the wishes of the Pope of Rome (due to his fame, one often considers Henry VIII as the man who grappled with the Pope - the truth is that the Kings of England had wrestled with Rome for centuries by the time the Reformation took place). It took all of Henry's charisma and majesty with words to sway the gathered courts at Clarendon, but carry the day he did. Archbishop Becket however, refused to sign the heretical treaty. The board was set. Thomas Becket was ordered to present himself before the royal council on charges of contempt of royal authority. The Council, jealous of Becket's upstart power, convicted him, and the Archbishop was banished from the realm.


Evading the King's men, Becket fled to France where he was given sanctuary by King Louis VII in the monastery of Pontigny. For near two years he resisted in exile, excommunicating his foes in the English Church, for no precedent existed for removing the Archbishop of Canterbury from power. Meanwhile, King Henry seethed. The looming eyes of Pope Alexander III were ever watchful, but when Becket threatened the King of England himself with excommunication (a fate worse than death in the medieval world), the King's frustration turned to anger. When the Pope agreed a truce, Becket returned to England, immune to earthly shackles, and continued to excommunicate all in his path. When he heard that Prince Henry had been crowned in his absence, an act only the Archbishop of Canterbury could perform, he excommunicated the Archbishop of York.


King Henry was in Normandy when the news reached him. As news of rifts in his vast empire fell upon his ears, a cry of rage shook the hall, with words that to this day have been in dispute:


                 " What miserable fools and traitors hath I nourished and
                    raised in my household, who grant their Lord be so trifled
                   by so low born a cleric! "
                           - KING HENRY II ON BECKET


Some say his fury was stronger still, and that the King roared in frustration:

                 " Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?! "
                          - KING HENRY II's LETHAL WISH

The Murder of Thomas Becket
English Psalter of 1250,
currently in the Walters Art Gallery,
Baltimore

Legendary was the wrath of the Plantagenet Kings, and all who looked on feared what irrational deeds anger would inspire in the King. Standing there that day were four knights, Hugh de Morville, William de Tracy, Richard le Breton and Reginald FitzUrse, all eager to serve and please their King. Mistaking the King's fiery words for royal command, the four rode forth from court to carry out their terrible deed. On sunset of the fifth day of Christmas 1170, the four knights arrived in Canterbury town, their eyes set on the towering cathedral. As evening fell on Canterbury, the clergy and the Archbishop were celebrating the Vespers service. A certain Subdeacon of the cathedral beckoned the knights in, a name since blackened in history. The monks loyal to the Archbishop moved to bar the doors, but their hand was stayed by Becket. "'Tis not proper", spake he, "that a house of prayer,a church of Christ, be made a fortress". Seizing their chance, the knights burst in in full armour, sharpened swords gleaming in the failing light. "Where is Thomas Becket, traitor of the King and Kingdom", one demanded to the congregation. Silence reigned. "Where is the Archbishop!" they cried aloud. At this Becket rose to his feet and faced his foe. "The righteous will be like a bold lion and free from fear", said he. Into the evenlight he moved, "Here I am, not a traitor of the King but a priest; why do you seek me?". At the altar Archbishop Becket stopped, and turned to face the image of the holy confessor St. Benedict. The four men of steel bore down upon him, "Absolve and restore to communion those thou hast excommunicated, and reconcile those who hath been banished", the knights commanded. "No penance hath been made, so I shall not absolve them", the Archbishop coolly replied. "Then you", spake they, "will now die and will suffer what thou hast earned". "And I", said he, "am prepared to die for my Lord, so that in my blood the Church will attain liberty and peace; but in the name of Almighty God I forbid that thou striketh my men, cleric or layman should he be".


"With rapid motion they laid sacrilegious hands on him", and moved to drag him from the sanctum, for to strike down a man of the cloth was sin enough, but to do so on hallowed ground was the devil's work indeed. But Archbishop Becket was loath to release his grip upon the stone pillar. Seeing Reginald coming near, Archbishop Becket spoke his last command. "Touch me not, Reginald, you who oweth me faith and obedience, you who foolishly follow these men". A burning rage did this spark in the knight, who rounded on Becket, "I owe thee neither faith nor obedience when faced with fealty I owe my King". Seeing Doom coming now, Thomas Becket lowered in prayer when Reginald's blade sang through the air. With one mighty blow, as the heavenly crown was laid on the Archbishop's head, his earthly one was hewn by steel. A second blow met its mark, but not yet over was it. On the third strike he sank to his knees, "for the name of Jesus I am ready to embrace death", said he. So forceful was the knight's blow, the blade of the sword was shattered upon the cold stone below. An accomplice in the Church, loyal to the King, spoke the last. "We can leave this place, knights, he will rise no more".

The Becket Casket
Reliquary made c. 1180-1190,
Currently in the Victoria & Albert Museum, London

Soon after news of the impious deed spread like wildfire through Europe, and with it admiration for the pious Becket. Crowds across the continent chanted his name and called him martyr. two years later, Pope Alexander III declared him a saint. The four assassins fled north to Knaresborough Castle, and holed up for a year. All four were excommunicated by the Pope, yet journeyed to Rome, braving threats of lynching, to plead before the Vicar of Christ. Pope Alexander was merciful, and decreed that each man serve penance for fourteen years in the Holy Lands. To Outremer were they henceforth banished. But it was King Henry who was racked with grief and guilt at the horrible deed. Never truly meaning his death, after all, they had once been friends, the King fell into a desperate sorrow, and a fear for his immortal soul. On the 12th July, 1174, the King performed an unprecedented humility. By the Church of St. Dunstans, the King of England set out barefoot and clad in sackcloth, and undertook his pilgrimage to Canterbury Cathedral, whipped along the road to redemption. The monks, afraid of relic thieves, buried Becket beneath the floor in the East of the Cathedral. Fifty years later, King Henry III, grandson of Henry II, gave them a lavish new setting in pride of place within the Cathedral. There they regally sat until they were destroyed by order of King Henry VIII in 1538. The most intact relic survives today in the so called Becket Casket. Canterbury has ever since been a great pilgrimage site in Christendom, with images of the Saint all over the Christian World. Quite a legacy for the boy from Cheapside...



United Kingdom

The Biography
Thomas Becket: Warrior, Priest, Rebel, Victim: A 900-Year-Old Story Retold
(A grand tale of Becket's life, easy to read and with links to the original accounts)

United States

The Biography

Thomas Becket: Warrior, Priest, Rebel
(A grand tale of Becket's life, easy to read and with links to the original accounts)

November 27th 1095: A day that shook the world

"Then Jesus said to his disciples ‘If any would come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross and follow me. For whoever seeks to spare his own life shall lose it; but whoever shall lose his life for my sake will find it”

                                                                      - CHRIST ADDRESSES HIS DISCIPLES (MATTHEW 16:24-25)

At the turn of the eleventh century Anno Domini the Eastern Roman Empire, the last great remnant of the Ancient Roman Empire, was in decline, slowly worn down by relentless attack at the hands of the Turks. Yet even then, it was the great Christian superpower of the world, and Constantinople was by far the largest and richest city on Earth, the great bastion and defender of Christendom in the face of the rising power of Islam in the East. Though the days when the Caesars ruled from Rome were a distant memory, the power, prestige and the dream that was Rome lived on. Until the fateful day of the 26th of August 1071. For on that day began a chain of events culminating in a day which changed the world forever, and whose effects are felt stronger today than ever, on the 27th November 1095.



Gold Solidus of the Emperor Romanus IV
Constantinople Mint.

The Emperor Romanus IV, determined to take vengeance on Alp Arslan - Sultan of the Great Seljuk Empire - for his siege of the city of Manzikert (near the Eastern border of modern Turkey, then under Roman control), set off with a large army to confront his foe. On the road from Constantinople, the Romans were constantly harassed and demoralised by the arrows of the Turkish horse archers, yet the army held together. The Emperor reached Manzikert and took it easily, causing the Sultan to sue for peace. Determined to end the ‘Eastern threat’ once and for all with a decisive victory, Romanus refused and battle was joined. But the Turks were masters of the hit and of the run. Wherever the Roman charged, the Turk fled, showering his pursuer with arrows as he did so (A tactic known as the Parthian Shot, the bane even of the Ancient Roman Legions at their height.) Frustrated and demoralised, the Romans gave way, and the Turks pounced. The Roman soldiers, the great defenders of Christendom, were now men fleeing for their lives. The Turks captured Romanus and hurled him at the feet of Alp Arslan, who could not believe that this dirty and bloody wreck of a man before him was the mighty Emperor of the Romans. It was the worst Roman defeat since Adrianople, over six hundred years earlier, and worse was yet to come. A crippling financial crisis struck the Eastern Roman Empire, and the Imperial throne was sought by avaricious and selfish men. In the West, the Empire’s dominions in Southern Italy were the prey of the Normans. Not until the rule of the Emperor Alexius I Comnenus began in 1081 did the Empire begin to stabilise again.

A Christian Knight departs for the Crusades
Taken from the Westminster-Psalter.

Fourteen years later, Pope Urban II, a charismatic and energetic Pope, held council at Piacenza in northern Italy in 1095. Urban II was keen to follow in the footsteps of his illustrious predecessor, Pope Gregory VII, and restore the moral integrity of the Roman Church. He soon got his chance. Attending the council were representatives of the Emperor, who called upon the Bishop of Rome for aid. The Seljuk leadership was in disarray, now was the time to strike back at God’s enemies! The desperate plea struck deeply within the Supreme Pontiff’s mind, who called a Council to be held in Clermont (modern day Clermont-Ferrand) for monk and lord alike to consider the Emperor’s words. Little did the Emperor know that his call would be answered on a scale beyond his wildest dreams...


When the clergy and laymen gathered on the 18th of November 1095, all were expecting further discourse on ecclesiastical affairs and discussion of healing the rifts caused by corruption in the Church. So the Council progressed, until it came to the last item on the agenda. All assembled were struck dumb by Urban II’s closing speech. The Vicar of Christ rose and launched a scathing attack on his flock:

“Listen and learn! You, girt about with the badge of knighthood, are arrogant beyond great pride; you rage against your brothers and cut each other asunder. This, which rends asunder the sheep-fold of the Redeemer... This is not the soldiery of Christ!... You, the oppressors of children, plunderers of widows; you, guilty of homicide, of sacrilege, robbers of another’s rights; you, who await the pay of thieves for the shedding of Christ’s blood!”

                             - POPE URBAN II DENOUNCES VIOLENCE AGAINST FELLOW CHRISTIANS

Never before had a Pope so masterfully struck at the conscience of his subjects, tearing forth their guilt from the depths of their depravity. His words turned to the plight of Christendom in the East:

Pope Urban II preaches the Crusade
Taken from the Livre des Passages d'Outre-mer.

“From the confines of Jerusalem and the city of Constantinople a horrible tale has gone forth... a race from the kingdom of the Persians, an accursed race, a race utterly alienated from God... has invaded the lands of those Christians and has depopulated them by the sword, pillage and fire... it has destroyed the churches of God!”

          - POPE URBAN II TURNS TO THE PLIGHT OF THE EAST


Here Urban refers to the destruction of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, torn down at the orders of the Caliph Al-Hakim in 1009. It does not take a stretch of the imagination to see already the beginnings of the violent tensions between East and West right now in 2010. The Bishop of Rome turned his cry to Jerusalem, the land which ‘floweth with milk and honey’, given by God to the children of Israel in the Old Testament. He implores the men of Christendom to liberate the land from the infidel:

“Nay, more, the sorrowful here will be glad there, the poor here will be rich there, and the enemies of the Lord here will be His friends there!”

                                                            - POPE URBAN II SPEAKS OF THE REWARDS OF THE CRUSADE

Doubtless, even the most materialistic of those present’s ears would have pricked up at the mention of untold riches in the East. Europe was a desolate land in the 11th century, a land dominated by the right of primogeniture – a law that decreed that only the firstborn son would inherit. This left a great deal of sons destitute and envious, and ready to cause trouble at a moment’s notice. If what the Pope said was true, even a peasant here could be a lord in the Holy Lands. Then came Urban II’s dramatic finale:

“Let therefore hatred depart from among you, let your quarrels end, let wars cease, and let all dissensions slumber. Enter upon the road to the Holy Sepulchre; wrest that land from the wicked race, and subject it to yourselves...Undertake this journey for the remission of your sins, with the assurance of the imperishable glory of the Kingdom of Heaven!”

                                                               - POPE URBAN II CALLS CHRISTENDOM TO THE CRUSADE

 

The Archangel Michael casts Satan down from Heaven
Artist unknown. Taken by author in Pinacoteca Gallery
of the Vatican Museums.

Here, and now, God’s representative on Earth was offering to all who answered his call the forgiveness of Christ and a place in Heaven! One can only wonder at the intensely powerful effect this would have on the deeply pious Christian knights present. Tears flowed from many an eye, and as one, the gathered crowds bellowed what would become the famous war cry of the crusaders; “God Wills It!”

One must always leave modern ethics behind when looking at this. Life was mostly a grim affair in the 11th century. Life expectancy seldom stretched past 30, death, plague, war and famine surrounded all. Is it any wonder that men turned to God? Urban II’s speech is dramatic enough today, let alone nine hundred years ago. Not even Urban II himself was prepared for the scale of the response to his plea. Tens of thousands across the nations of Europe answered the Pope’s call, and flocked to the sign of the cross, calling upon the valour of Saint Michael the Archangel. The First Crusade had begun.

Due to the incredible importance of the First Crusade I shall, in future posts, follow the course of the great ‘armed pilgrimage’, to its cataclysmic finale. The text of Urban II's mighty speech was recorded by many authors, many of whom were actually present at the Council. A collection of all these is easily available at Amazon, which also includes material for the whole of the Crusade:

United Kingdom

The First Crusade: The Chronicle and other Materials
(Highly useful and nicely organised, containing original texts for events across the whole crusade)

United States

The First Crusade: The Chronicle and other Materials
(Highly useful and nicely organised, containing original texts for events across the whole crusade)

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Tales of chivalry and knightly ventures were stories that many a boy in a medieval hall dreamed upon. To be strong and pure of heart, to have no fear, to be a servant of God and to be willing to lay down one’s life in defence of those who cannot defend themselves – that is chivalry. It is scarce wonder that chivalry is so highly prized a code today as it ever was in the time of armoured knights thundering down the lists, lances lowered in the joust. There is such a tale which I look at today. An old English poem from the fourteenth century, composed by an unknown soul somewhere in the Midlands, it tells of the perilous quest of Sir Gawain – a Knight of the Round Table in the court of King Arthur – and his trials of faith and honour along the way. The poem has a very strong message of its own, which can be seen only through the story as a whole, which I present to you here in its shortest form.

The Green Knight warns Sir Gawain
From the original manuscript

One Christmas when Arthur ruled the Britons, there was magnificent feasting and joy, and ‘the most famous knights in the annals of Christendom’ jousted and sparred and made merry. Then on New Year’s Day, suddenly a strange visitor entered Camelot. A vast knight clad entirely in Green, the size of several men, astride a mighty green stallion, wielding a great axe, demanded to speak with the noblest among the crowd. So rose Arthur, as the rest of the hall stood transfixed in fear at the sight of the strange knight. The Green Knight then issued his famous challenge: that any man there who dared to call himself brave should come forth and strike off the Knight’s head with his mighty axe. The Green Knight vowed he would kneel and not flinch and receive the blow, on the sole condition that he may give a stroke in return. The hall was struck dumb by the Knight’s challenge, as he drew himself up and taunted Arthur:

“What? Is this Arthur’s Hall?

And these the knights whose renown hath run through many realms?

Where are now your pride and your conquests,

Your wrath, and anger, and mighty words?

Now are the praise and the renown of the Round Table overthrown by one man’s speech,

Since all keep silence for dread ere they have ever seen a blow!”

                                                                - THE GREEN KNIGHT TAUNTS ARTHUR

The Knight’s taunts were intolerable to the chivalric knights, shaken awake by the insults to their majesty. Young Sir Gawain, the cousin of Arthur, begged the King to allow him to accept. Arthur relented and sent forth Gawain. After telling the Knight his name, and swearing to uphold the agreement, Gawain took the great axe and with one swift blow severed the stranger’s head. After a moment of exultation from the court, all looked in horror as the headless knight strode across the hall to claim his head. The head then spoke and warned Gawain to find the Green Chapel and remember his vow, before the Knight rode off into the night.

Almost a year passed and Gawain remembered his vow and, renowned as the most virtuous of all Arthur’s Knights, he prepared to seek the Green Chapel, despite protests from Sir Lancelot and Sir Bedivere. He took up his armour, sword, spear and shield, mounted his horse Gryngolet and rode forth from Camelot. Sir Gawain spent many days wandering the cruel wilderness of Britain, at times fighting Giants and Dragons, in search of the one who would certainly deliver his own death blow. Then one day he reached a castle, whose lord was a man with a large red beard and possessing a kindly spirit, received Sir Gawain as an honoured guest. Gawain’s humility and piety were met by the lord’s kindness as a host, and earned him the deep respect and admiration of all there, - including the lord’s wife. Gawain tells them of his vow and how he must reach the Green Chapel soon, as New Year was almost upon them. The lord laughed and told him to stay a while, for the Chapel was but two miles away.

The land of Britain around the Green Chapel
Photograph by David Green

So Gawain stayed in the comfort of the castle, and the lord made a wager with Gawain – that tomorrow he would go hunting and whatever he won on it he would present to Gawain, whilst Gawain would remain in comfort in the castle and present to the lord what he had won that day. The knight accepted, and the next morning it began. The lord hunts many deer and brings them back to the castle, but Gawain awakes to see the lord’s wife sitting on his bed and the two talk for hours with Gawain resisting with the utmost courtesy her depraved advances (I am reminded of the tale of Sir Galahad from Monty Python and the Holy Grail...). As promised, the lord gives the deer to Gawain, and Gawain kisses the lord on the cheek. Amused, the lord makes the same challenge for tomorrow. The next day, the lord, after a long day of hunting, brings back a mighty boar. The lord’s wife once again tries to tempt the gallant knight, who once again politely refuses to capitulate (The confrontation in the knight's mind is not all so different from that in the mind of Macbeth, when he is torn between his duties to King Duncan and to his wife). The lord gives Gawain the boar, and the knight gives the lord two kisses. The lord offers the challenge one more time before Gawain leaves for his quest, promising him a guide to the Green Chapel on New Year’s Day. This time, the lord’s hunt is arduous, returning only with a fox. The lord’s wife however, makes one last attempt to tarnish the knight, and offers him her ring. Sir Gawain refuses, as he has nothing suitable to offer in return. Instead she offers him her green silk girdle, which will render the wearer protection from even the mightiest foe. Seeing the potential value of such an item in light of what is to come, and feeling a sudden fear of death, the knight accepts her gift. The lord returns and offers Gawain the fox, and in return the knight kisses him three times – but does not give him the girdle.

Tintagel, the legendary site of Camelot
Photograph by Manfred Heyde

The next day, after bidding the kindest of farewells, Sir Gawain and his guide leave for the Green Chapel. As they draw nearer, the guide desperately attempts to dissuade the knight from his doom, offering to keep his retreat secret. Gawain politely refuses, as his code of chivalry and honour would curse him if he were to make this choice. He continues alone, until he reaches a place serenaded by the sound of an axe being sharpened. The Green Knight is there, ready to honour their agreement. Sir Gawain bravely kneels and requests his death blow. The Green Knight brings the axe down once, and Gawain flinches, and the axe stops above his neck. The Green Knight rebukes his cowardice, and Gawain begs that he offer another blow, promising to be brave. The Green Knight swings again and deliberately misses. Gawain angrily asks why he holds back, and asks if it is not him who has fear in his heart. A third time the axe swings down, and this time the blade makes a slight cut into Gawain’s neck. Sir Gawain jumps to his feet, pulls on his helmet and in a rage reminds his foe that the pact was for one stroke, not three. The Green Knight suddenly laughs and throws off his fearsome visage. He applauds Sir Gawain’s chivalry, the greatest in the world, and declares him the most virtuous man alive. He reveals himself to be the lord of the castle where Gawain stayed, and that it was he who tasked the lady with attempting to seduce him. Gawain was honest with him on the first two days, but on the third he did not offer the lord the silk girdle, and was therefore punished by the wound on his neck. Sir Gawain is overcome with shame and humility, and prays to God for his forgiveness. The Knights part company, and Gawain returns to Camelot, where he tells Arthur he will forever bear the green girdle as a sign of his failure to keep his promise with the lord. The Knights of the Round Table declare as one that they will from this day forth all wear a green silk girdle, to honour Sir Gawain, who was truly the perfect Knight. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is a moral story, warning us of the price of straying from the good path, and the value of keeping one's word. Yet at the same time it is a surprisingly effective story, presenting moral dilemmas and temptations for the hero along the path.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is a masterpiece of English medieval lore, and at only 2530 lines long, readily available at Amazon:

United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (Penguin Classics)
(A translation which focuses more on ease of understanding than poetry)

Oxford World's Classics:
Sir Gawain and The Green Knight (Oxford World's Classics)
(A good compromise between the poetic and prosaic)

Simon Armitage CBE's Translation:
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight
(A translation which retains the poetic meter of the original, translated by a poet!)

United States

Penguin Classics:
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (Penguin Classics)
(A version which focuses more on ease of understanding than poetry)

Oxford World's Classics:
Sir Gawain and The Green Knight (Oxford World's Classics)

Simon Armitage CBE's Translation:
Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (A New Verse Translation)
(A translation which retains the poetic meter of the original, translated by a poet!)