One of these truths highly esteemed for centuries, but now fallen by the wayside, is courtesy. This word does not merely mean that one blows one's nose on a handkerchief rather than a sleeve, or hold every possible door open for any passing lady, but rather it encompasses an entire way of life. A life of responsibility, generosity, self-control, chastity, gentleness-in short, the courteous life was the living out of the Christian ethic. Part of this life demanded, then, that a man be all things to all men in the proper time. A prime example is Lancelot who was said to be the gentlest of men among ladies and the fiercest of men in battle.

But, as we also see in the figure of Lancelot, the Medieval recognized that man was flawed. So, in their stories of incredible virtue and valor, they always included the fallen nature of the human being-the remnant of the Garden of Eden. The Arthurian legend, if looked at in a certain light, is almost a complete replaying of the first few chapters of Genesis. The result may be merely the fall of one glorious kingdom rather than the entire universe, but the allegory is the same.

So in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight we see a similar tale of one man, particularly renown for his courtesy, who nonetheless when tempted by the promise of knowledge and power is seduced and punished for his sin.

The decisive moment begins when Berselac's wife during her ritual morning seduction of Sir Gawain, attempts a different tack than her usual brazen overtures. Having been refused for the first time, she offers him "my girdel, that gaynes yow lasse (Dunn 436)." At first he refuses this as well, loathe to take any lovers gift that would betray his duty to his host. But she wheedles, like the snake, demeaning the gift by saying it is "symple in hitself, and so hit wel semes?/Lo! So hit is little, and lasse hit is worthy (Dunn 436)." Then, like the serpent, she shows that the "fruit" is "good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise (Genesis 3:6)" by promising that the girdle has the miraculous power to protect a man from all sword-danger: "For he myght not be slayn for slyght upon erthe (Dunn 436)." Gawain considers, like Eve, and sees that the girdle "myght he haf slypped to be unslayn, the sleght were noble (Dunn 436)."

Unlike the Garden of Eden, Gawain does not share the gift with anyone, but the effects of his sin are already apparent. Although he does not realize that he is now actually "naked" or "vulnerable" (i.e., the girdle weakens him so that he is not completely invulnerable to the blow the Green Knight will hand him), he immediately hides the token in a safe corner, just as Adam and Eve hid when they heard God approach (Genesis 3:8). Directly after that, he seeks out the priest, confesses his sins and receives absolution.

This curious point raises some serious questions. If Gawain had truly confessed at this point, he would have most likely relinquished the token to the father, or returned it to the lady. If his confession has been absolutely honest, he would have admitted his plan to omit mention of the token to Berselac and use it as a "cheat" in the upcoming trial at arms. To receive absolution for such a confession, he should have made reparation for his sin of the mind by not carrying out such a falsehood. If he omitted his plan of secrecy in the confession, then the confession was no true sacrament since Gawain was consciously withholding a sin he was meaning to carry out.

The dilemma is similar to the more pernicious end of Guido da Montefeltro in the eighth malbowlge of the eighth circle of Hell in Canto XXVIII of Dante's Inferno. This particular counselor of fraud gave into the pope's request once the pontiff said: "Fear nothing; here and now/I absolve thee in advance (Dante 242)." Guido eventually learned that confession without contrition is inefficacious when a devil dragged him off to hell saying, "Absolved uncontrite means no absolution;/Nor can one will at once sin and contrition,/The contradiction bars the false conclusion (Dante, Inferno 243)."

Therefore, no matter whether he confessed this one crucial sin or not, Gawain invalidated the sacrament because of his intent to sin as soon as Berselac and he exchanged their trophies of the day. In betraying Berselac, he also betrays God. Gawain's sin lies in his compromise of courtesy to his human and his divine host-a sin for which he will dearly pay.

Upon the battlefield on New Year's Day, a day whose very title promises new life and rebirth, Gawain and the Green Knight meet for a second time. With the first swing, Gawain shies away, afraid to be slain. With the second swing, Gawain holds firm, but the Green Knight stops just short of the young man's neck. On the third swing, both Gawain and the Green Knight keep to their original promise to stand and to strike. Gawain is nicked, but otherwise uninjured.

The Green Knight explains that the reason why on the third blow Gawain received a nick was because he was not honest with the third interchange with Berselac (the Green Knight): "Trewe mon trewe restore,/Thenne thar mon drede no wathe./At the thrid, thou fayled thore,/And therfor that tappe ta thee (Dunn 453)."

But one could easily read more closely into this particular set of threes. The number in and of itself is immediately representative of the Trinity, and point to God's glory and hand in all earthly matters-even something as fantastic as this. The three could also relate to each of the hunts. The first is like the deer that cowers and flees before the huntsman. The second is like the boar that sends terror into the hearts of men. And the third is like the fox that deserves whatever wound he receives for his "quethsipe (Dunn 151)" or wickedness.

Continuing the Garden of Eden theme so prevalent in the Arthurian legends, the first bout when Gawain flinched is similar to when Adam and Eve hid from God for fear of His wrath (Genesis 3:8). The second, when the Green Knight did not hit Gawain is rather like God's decree on our first parents, that they should be cast out of the Garden, but still live and subdue the earth. The sword in this case is blunted ("fiery swords…/Broke short and bated at the points thereof [Dante, Purgatorio 127]") as God's justice is tempered by mercy. The third is like the wound of concupiscence or original sin-the curse that is upon all human kind-the perpetual reminder of our fall.

To show allegorically and physically that awful humiliation, that flaw in every man's makeup, Gawain determines to wear the girdle always.

"This is the bende of this blame I bere in my nek,
This is the lathe and the losse tha it laght have
Of cowardice and covetyse that I haf caght thare.
This is the token of untrawthe that I am tan inne,
And I mot nedes hit were wyle I may last (Dunn 458)"

But while Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is overshadowed with the doom of an entire nation, the Genesis story, the story of the fall of man and expulsion from the Garden of Eden, the earthly paradise, brings with it the promise of Christ's coming, and the redemption of all mankind, even the Gawains among us.