Arthur felt the charm, and before a blow was struck, his sturdy limbs lost their strength, and his head grew faint.  He was fain to yield himself prisoner to the churlish knight, who refused to release him except upon condition that he should return at the end of a year, and bring a true answer to the question, “What thing is it which women most desire?” or in default thereof surrender himself and his lands.  King Arthur accepted the terms, and gave his oath to return at the time appointed.  During the year the king rode east, and he rode west, and inquired of all whom he met what thing it is which all women most desire.  Some told him riches; some, pomp and state; some, mirth; some, flattery; and some, a gallant knight.  But in the diversity of answers he could find no sure dependence.  The year was well-nigh spent, when one day, as he rode thoughtfully through a forest, he saw sitting beneath a tree a lady of such hideous aspect that he turned away his eyes, and when she greeted him in seemly sort, made no answer.  “What wight art thou,” the lady said, “that will not speak to me?  It may chance that I may resolve thy doubts, though I be not fair of aspect.”  “If thou wilt do so,” said King Arthur, “choose what reward thou wilt, thou grim lady, and it shall be given thee.”  “Swear me this upon thy faith,” she said, and Arthur swore it.  Then the lady told him the secret, and demanded her reward, which was that the king should find some fair and courtly knight to be her husband.

King Arthur hastened to the grim baron’s castle and told him one by one all the answers which he had received from his various advisers, except the last, and not one was admitted as the true one.  “Now yield thee, Arthur,” the giant said, “for thou hast not paid thy ransom, and thou and thy lands are forfeited to me.”  Then King Arthur said: 

    “Yet hold thy hand, thou proud baron,
      I pray thee hold thy hand,
    And give me leave to speak once more,
      In rescue of my land. 
    This morn as I came over a moor,
      I saw a lady set,
    Between an oak and a green holly,
      All clad in red scarlett. 
    She says all women would have their will,
      This is their chief desire;
    Now yield, as thou art a baron true,
      That I have paid my hire.”

“It was my sister that told thee this,” the churlish baron exclaimed.  “Vengeance light on her!  I will some time or other do her as ill a turn.”

King Arthur rode homeward, but not light of heart, for he remembered the promise he was under to the loathly lady to—­give her one of his young and gallant knights for a husband.  He told his grief to Sir Gawain, his nephew, and he replied, “Be not sad, my lord, for I will marry the loathly lady.”  King Arthur replied: 

    “Now nay, now nay, good Sir Gawaine,
      My sister’s son ye be;
    The loathly lady’s all too grim,
      And all too foule for thee.”