So the cart jolts along with the Dwarf and the knight, while Gawain trots behind, until they come to a town full of grand houses, finely built and richly decorated. All the people stare when they see the knight in the cart, and shout and jeer:
'Look at him, sitting there. Hey, you, bet you're sorry now for your crimes. Serves you right!'
'A wicked-looking knight, you can tell by his face,' they tell each other. 'I expect he's a murderer, or a thief.'
'What's he done?' they call out to the Dwarf. 'Is he going to be hanged? A good thing too.'
The Dwarf does not answer a single word but drives on, until they reach a tower built on a steep cliff of rock with a meadow behind at the edge of the town.
The Dwarf disappeared, but Gawain and the other knight entered the tower, where their armour was taken from them, they were dressed in two green cloaks, and a girl led them to the table.
After the meal two long, 
high
beds were made ready for them in the Hall. Yet next to these stood a far more
splendid bed, covered with yellow silken cloth and decorated with golden stars.
'Whose is that bed?' the knight asked the girl.
'Not yours, that's for sure,' she replied. 'Someone who has been disgraced by sitting in a cart shouldn't even dare to ask. No-one can lie in that bed unless he is worthy to do so - or he'll pay the price.'
'We'll see about that,' said the knight, and he took off his clothes and climbed into the magnificent bed under the thick, warm furs and the silken coverlet.
At midnight a lance plunged from the rafters above the bed right where the knight's body lay, meaning to pin him fast to the white sheets and the mattress beneath. The lance missed by a millimetre, cutting the knight's skin a little, and stood quivering in the mattress. A small flag all ablaze was attached to the lance and soon set fire to the whole bed. The knight got up, put out the fire and swung the lance about his head in the middle of the Hall - all without leaving the bed. Then he lay down and went back to sleep.
