Pelleas’s hopeless love for the scornful maiden is one of the saddest stories which form part of the Arthurian records. In his despair at being rejected by the “sovereign lady” for whom he had fought and prevailed, he sought the help of Sir Gawaine--“And, Sir Knight, sith ye are so nigh a cousin unto King Arthur, and a king’s son, therefore I pray thee, betray me not, but help me, for I may never come by her but by the help of some good knight; for she is in a strong castle here fast by, within this four miles, and over all this country she is lady of.” Gawaine vowed to serve him, and declared that he would ride to the castle, taking with him Pelleas’s horse and armour, and tell her that he had slain her lover: “and so shall I come within to her, and then shall I do my true part, and ye shall not fail to have her love.” But instead of winning Ettarde for Pelleas, he won her for himself, declaring that he had slain Pelleas and had come for her love. They went out of the castle and dwelt with each other for two days in a pavilion. The rest of the pitiful story is best told in Malory’s own words. “And on the third day, in the morning early, Sir Pelleas armed him, for he had not slept sith that Sir Gawaine departed from him; for Sir Gawaine had promised him by the faith of his body to come unto him to his pavilion by the priory within the space of a day and a night. Then Sir Pelleas mounted on horsebacke, and came to the pavilion that stood without the castle.... Then hee went to the third pavilion and found Sir Gawaine with his lady Ettarde; and when he saw that, his heart almost brast with sorrow, and he said: ‘Alas, that ever a knight should bee found so false.’ And then he tooke his horse and might no longer abide for sorrow. And when hee had ridden nigh halfe a mile, he turned againe and thought to sley them both, and when he saw them lye so fast sleeping, unneth (scarcely) hee might hold him on horseback for sorrow, and said thus to himselfe, ‘Though this knight be never so false, I will not sley him sleeping, for I will never destroy the high order of knighthood.’ ... And when he came to the pavilions (a third time) he tied his horse to a tree, and pulled out his sword naked in his hand, and went straight to them where as they lay together, and yet he thought that it were great shame for him to sley them sleeping, and laid the naked sword overthwart both their throats, and then hee tooke his horse, and rod foorth his way, making great and wofull lamentation.” Such is the story of Sir Gawaine and Sir Pelleas, knights of Camelot.