The rich cloth was meticulously worked with different criss-cross designs – violet and red and indigo, white and green, blue and yellow. The queen requested some ribbons made from five ells of silken thread wound round with gold. When the beautiful and ornately prepared ribbons were brought to her, she had them attached at once to the mantle by a man who was a past master at his craft.

When there was no more to be done on the mantle, the generous and noble lady embraced the maiden with the white dress and spoke generously to her: ‘My damsel, I order you to replace this meagre dress with this tunic, which is worth more than a hundred marks of silver. I wish to honour you in this manner. Now put this mantle on over it; another time I shall give you more.’

The maiden did not refuse it: she took the clothes and thanked her for them. Two maidens led her away to a secluded room; then she removed her old dress, for she no longer cared a straw for it. She then put on her tunic and tightened it, girded herself with a rich band of orphrey, and ordered that her old dress be given away, for the love of God; then she put on the mantle. Now she looked far from dispirited for this attire suited her so well that she became even more beautiful. The two maidens braided her golden hair with a thread of gold, but her hair shone more brightly than the golden thread, fine as it was. A golden chaplet, wrought with flowers of many different colours, was placed on her head by the maidens. As best they could, they undertook to adorn her in such a way that nothing could be improved. Two clasps of inlaid gold, set upon a topaz, were placed at her neck by one maiden. Now she was so pleasing and beautiful that I believe her equal could not be found in any land, however much one might seek, so well had Nature fashioned her.

Then she left the room and came to the queen. The queen welcomed her warmly: she loved her and was pleased with her because she was beautiful and well-bred. They took one another by the hand and came before the king, and when the king saw them he rose to meet them. So many knights there rose to greet them when they entered the hall that I could not name the tenth part, nor the thirteenth nor the fifteenth, but I can tell you the names of some of the noblest barons among those of the Round Table, who were the best in the world.

Before all the good knights Gawain must be the first, second Erec, son of Lac, and third Lancelot of the Lake;5 Gornemant of Gohort the fourth; and the fifth was the Fair Coward. The sixth was the Ugly Hero; the seventh Meliant de Liz; the eighth Mauduit the Wise; the ninth Dodinel the Wildman; let Gaudelu be counted tenth, for in him were many good qualities. The others I shall tell you without numbers, because the numbering encumbers me. Yvain the Valiant6 was seated further on; on another side Yvain the Bastard, and Tristan, who never laughed, was seated by Blioberis. Afterwards came Caradué Short-arm, a most entertaining knight, and Caveron de Roberdic, and the son of King Quenedic, and the youth of Quintareus, and Yder of the Sorrowful Mountain, Galerïet and Kay of Estral, Amauguin and Galet the Bald, Girflet, son of Do – and Taulas, who never tired of bearing arms, and a vassal of great courage, Loholt, the son of King Arthur, and Sagremor the Unruly – he must not be forgotten, nor Bedoier the constable, who knew much of chess and backgammon, nor Bravaïn, nor King Lot, nor Galegantin the Welshman.

When the beautiful stranger saw all the knights gathered round looking fixedly at her, she bowed her head: she was embarrassed, and no wonder. Her face became red, but modesty suited her so well that she became even more beautiful. When the king saw that she was embarrassed, he did not wish to draw away from her; he took her gently by the hand and seated her beside him at his right. At his left the queen took her seat and said to the king: ‘My lord, as I think and believe, anyone should be welcome at court who can win such a beautiful lady by deeds of arms in another land. We did well to wait for Erec; now you can bestow the kiss upon the most beautiful damsel in the court. I think no one will take it ill; no one without lying will ever be able to say that this is not the most beautiful of the maidens present here and of those in all the world.’

The king replied: ‘This is no lie. Unless someone challenges me, I shall give the honour of the white stag to her.’ Then he said to the knights: ‘My lords, what do you say? How does it seem to you? This damsel, in both body and face, and in all that befits a maiden, is the most gracious and beautiful that may be found, it seems to me, this side of where heaven and earth meet. I say that it is absolutely right that she should have the honour of the stag. And you, my lords, what do you wish to say? Have you any objection to this? If anyone wishes to oppose this, let him now say what he thinks. I am the king, and I must not he nor consent to any villainy or falsity or excess; I must preserve reason and rightness, for a loyal king ought to maintain law, truth, faith, and justice. I would not wish in any way to commit disloyalty or wrong, no more to the weak than to the strong; it is not right that any should complain of me, and I do not want the tradition or the custom, which my line is bound to uphold, to fall into disuse.