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THE Morte Darthur was finished, as the epilogue tells us, in the
ninth year of Edward IV., i.e. between March 4, 1469 and the same
date in 1470. It is thus, fitly enough, the last important
English book written before the introduction of printing into
this country, and since no manuscript of it has come down to us
it is also the first English classic for our knowledge of which
we are entirely dependent on a printed text. Caxton's story of
how the book was brought to him and he was induced to print it
may be read farther on in his own preface. From this we learn
also that he was not only the printer of the book, but to some
extent its editor also, dividing Malory's work into twenty-one
books, splitting up the books into chapters, by no means
skilfully, and supplying the ``Rubrish'' or chapter-headings. It
may be added that Caxton's preface contains, moreover, a brief
criticism which, on the points on which it touches, is still the
soundest and most sympathetic that has been written.
Caxton finished his edition the last day of July 1485, some
fifteen or sixteen years after Malory wrote his epilogue. It is
clear that the author was then dead, or the printer would not
have acted as a clumsy editor to the book, and recent discoveries
(if bibliography may, for the moment, enlarge its bounds to
mention such matters) have revealed with tolerable certainty when
Malory died and who he was. In letters to The Athenaeum in July
1896 Mr. T. Williams pointed out that the name of a Sir Thomas
Malorie occurred among those of a number of other Lancastrians
excluded from a general pardon granted by Edward IV. in 1468,
and that a William Mallerye was mentioned in the same year as
taking part in a Lancastrian rising. In September 1897, again,
in another letter to the same paper, Mr. A. T. Martin reported
the finding of the will of a Thomas Malory of Papworth, a hundred
partly in Cambridgeshire, partly in Hunts. This will was made on
September 16, 1469, and as it was proved the 27th of the next
month the testator must have been in immediate expectation of
death. It contains the most careful provision for the education
and starting in life of a family of three daughters and seven
sons, of whom the youngest seems to have been still an infant.
We cannot say with certainty that this Thomas Malory, whose last
thoughts were so busy for his children, was our author, or that
the Lancastrian knight discovered by Mr. Williams was identical
with either or both, but such evidence as the Morte Darthur
offers favours such a belief. There is not only the epilogue
with its petition, ``pray for me while I am alive that God send
me good deliverance and when I am dead pray you all for my
soul,'' but this very request is foreshadowed at the end of chap.
37 of Book ix. in the touching passage, surely inspired by
personal experience, as to the sickness ``that is the greatest
pain a prisoner may have''; and the reflections on English
fickleness in the first chapter of Book xxi., though the Wars of
the Roses might have inspired them in any one, come most
naturally from an author who was a Lancastrian knight.
If the Morte Darthur was really written in prison and by a
prisoner distressed by ill-health as well as by lack of liberty,
surely no task was ever better devised to while away weary hours.
Leaving abundant scope for originality in selection,
modification, and arrangement, as a compilation and translation
it had in it that mechanical element which adds the touch of
restfulness to literary work. No original, it is said, has yet
been found for Book vii., and it is possible that none will ever
be forthcoming for chap. 20 of Book xviii., which describes the
arrival of the body of the Fair Maiden of Astolat at Arthur's
court, or for chap. 25 of the same book, with its discourse
on true love; but the great bulk of the work has been traced
chapter by chapter to the ``Merlin'' of Robert de Borron and his
successors (Bks. i.-iv.), the English metrical romance La Morte
Arthur of the Thornton manuscript (Bk. v.), the French romances
of Tristan (Bks. viii.-x.) and of Launcelot (Bks. vi., xi.-xix.),
and lastly to the English prose Morte Arthur of Harley MS. 2252
(Bks. xviii., xx., xxi.). As to Malory's choice of his
authorities critics have not failed to point out that now and
again he gives a worse version where a better has come down to
us, and if he had been able to order a complete set of Arthurian
manuscripts from his bookseller, no doubt he would have done even
better than he did! But of the skill, approaching to original
genius, with which he used the books from which he worked there
is little dispute.
Malory died leaving his work obviously unrevised, and in this
condition it was brought to Caxton, who prepared it for the press
with his usual enthusiasm in the cause of good literature, and
also, it must be added, with his usual carelessness. New
chapters are sometimes made to begin in the middle of a sentence,
and in addition to simple misprints there are numerous passages
in which it is impossible to believe that we have the text as
Malory intended it to stand. After Caxton's edition Malory's
manuscript must have disappeared, and subsequent editions are
differentiated only by the degree of closeness with which they
follow the first. Editions appeared printed by Wynkyn de Worde
in 1498 and 1529, by William Copland in 1559, by Thomas East
about 1585, and by Thomas Stansby in 1634, each printer
apparently taking the text of his immediate predecessor and
reproducing it with modifications. Stansby's edition served for
reprints in 1816 and 1856 (the latter edited by Thomas Wright);
but in 1817 an edition supervised by Robert Southey went back to
Caxton's text, though to a copy (only two are extant, and only
one perfect!) in which eleven leaves were supplied from Wynkyn de
Worde's reprint. In 1868 Sir Edward Strachey produced for
the present publishers a reprint of Southey's text in modern
spelling, with the substitution of current words for those now
obsolete, and the softening of a handful of passages likely, he
thought, to prevent the book being placed in the hands of boys.
In 1889 a boon was conferred on scholars by the publication of
Dr. H. Oskar Sommer's page-for-page reprint of Caxton's text,
with an elaborate discussion of Malory's sources. Dr. Sommer's
edition was used by Sir E. Strachey to revise his Globe text, and
in 1897 Mr. Israel Gollancz produced for the ``Temple Classics''
a very pretty edition in which Sir Edward Strachey's principles
of modernisation in spelling and punctuation were adopted, but
with the restoration of obsolete words and omitted phrases. As
to the present edition, Sir Edward Strachey altered with so
sparing a hand that on many pages differences between his version
and that here printed will be looked for in vain; but the most
anxious care has been taken to produce a text modernised as to
its spelling, but in other respects in accurate accordance with
Caxton's text, as represented by Dr Sommer's reprint. Obvious
misprints have been silently corrected, but in a few cases notes
show where emendations have been introduced from Wynkyn de
Worde--not that Wynkyn had any more right to emend Caxton than
we, but because even a printer's conjecture gains a little
sanctity after four centuries. The restoration of obsolete words
has necessitated a much fuller glossary, and the index of names
has therefore been separated from it and enlarged. In its
present form the index is the work of Mr. Henry Littlehales.
A. W. POLLARD.
AFTER that I had accomplished and finished divers histories, as
well of contemplation as of other historial and worldly acts of
great conquerors and princes, and also certain books of ensamples
and doctrine, many noble and divers gentlemen of this realm of
England came and demanded me many and oft times, wherefore that I
have not do made and imprint the noble history of the Saint
Greal, and of the most renowned Christian king, first and chief
of the three best Christian, and worthy, King Arthur, which ought
most to be remembered among us Englishmen to-fore all other
Christian kings; for it is notoyrly known through the universal
world, that there be nine worthy and the best that ever were,
that is to wit, three Paynims, three Jews, and three Christian
men. As for the Paynims, they were to-fore the Incarnation of
Christ, which were named, the first Hector of Troy, of whom the
history is comen both in ballad and in prose, the second
Alexander the Great, and the third Julius Caesar, Emperor of
Rome, of whom the histories be well known and had. And as for
the three Jews, which also were to-fore the incarnation of our
Lord, of whom the first was duke Joshua which brought the
children of Israel into the land of behest, the second David king
of Jerusalem, and the third Judas Machabeus, of these three the
Bible rehearseth all their noble histories and acts. And since
the said Incarnation have been three noble Christian men,
stalled and admitted through the universal world into the number
of the nine best and worthy. Of whom was first the noble Arthur,
whose noble acts I purpose to write in this present book here
following. The second was Charlemain, or Charles the Great, of
whom the history is had in many places, both in French and in
English. And the third and last was Godfrey of Boloine, of whose
acts and life I made a book unto the excellent prince and king of
noble memory, King Edward the Fourth.
The said noble gentlemen instantly required me to imprint the
history of the said noble king and conqueror King Arthur, and of
his knights, with the history of the Saint Greal, and of the
death and ending of the said Arthur; affirming that I ought
rather to imprint his acts and noble feats, than of Godfrey of
Boloine, or any of the other eight, considering that he was a man
born within this realm, and king and emperor of the same: and
that there be in French divers and many noble volumes of his
acts, and also of his knights. To whom I answered that divers
men hold opinion that there was no such Arthur, and that all such
books as been made of him be feigned and fables, because that
some chronicles make of him no mention, nor remember him nothing,
nor of his knights. Whereto they answered, and one in special
said, that in him that should say or think that there was never
such a king called Arthur might well be aretted great folly and
blindness. For he said that there were many evidences of the
contrary. First ye may see his sepulchre in the monastery of
Glastonbury. And also in Policronicon, in the fifth book the
sixth chapter, and in the seventh book the twenty-third chapter,
where his body was buried, and after found, and translated into
the said monastery. Ye shall see also in the history of Bochas,
in his book De Casu Principum, part of his noble acts, and
also of his fall. Also Galfridus in his British book recounteth
his life: and in divers places of England many remembrances be
yet of him, and shall remain perpetually, and also of his
knights. First in the abbey of Westminster, at St. Edward's
shrine, remaineth the print of his seal in red wax closed in
beryl, in which is written, Patricius Arthurus Britannie, Gallie,
Germanie, Dacie, Imperator. Item in the castle of Dover ye may
see Gawaine's skull, and Cradok's mantle: at Winchester the Round
Table: in other places Launcelot's sword and many other things.
Then all these things considered, there can no man reasonably
gainsay but there was a king of this land named Arthur. For in
all places, Christian and heathen, he is reputed and taken for
one of the nine worthy, and the first of the three Christian men.
And also, he is more spoken of beyond the sea, more books made of
his noble acts, than there be in England, as well in Dutch,
Italian, Spanish, and Greekish, as in French. And yet of record
remain in witness of him in Wales, in the town of Camelot, the
great stones and the marvellous works of iron lying under the
ground, and royal vaults, which divers now living have seen.
Wherefore it is a marvel why he is no more renowned in his own
country, save only it accordeth to the Word of God, which saith
that no man is accepted for a prophet in his own country.
Then all these things aforesaid alleged, I could not well deny
but that there was such a noble king named Arthur, and reputed
one of the nine worthy, and first and chief of the Christian men.
And many noble volumes be made of him and of his noble knights in
French, which I have seen and read beyond the sea, which be not
had in our maternal tongue. But in Welsh be many and also in
French, and some in English but nowhere nigh all. Wherefore,
such as have late been drawn out briefly into English I have
after the simple conning that God hath sent to me, under the
favour and correction of all noble lords and gentlemen, enprised
to imprint a book of the noble histories of the said King Arthur,
and of certain of his knights, after a copy unto me delivered,
which copy Sir Thomas Malorye did take out of certain books of
French, and reduced it into English. And I, according to my
copy, have done set it in imprint, to the intent that noble men
may see and learn the noble acts of chivalry, the gentle and
virtuous deeds that some knights used in those days, by which
they came to honour, and how they that were vicious were punished
and oft put to shame and rebuke; humbly beseeching all noble
lords and ladies, with all other estates of what estate or degree
they been of, that shall see and read in this said book and work,
that they take the good and honest acts in their remembrance, and
to follow the same. Wherein they shall find many joyous and
pleasant histories, and noble and renowned acts of humanity,
gentleness, and chivalry. For herein may be seen noble chivalry,
courtesy, humanity, friendliness, hardiness, love, friendship,
cowardice, murder, hate, virtue, and sin. Do after the good and
leave the evil, and it shall bring you to good fame and renown.
And for to pass the time this book shall be pleasant to read in,
but for to give faith and belief that all is true that is
contained herein, ye be at your liberty: but all is written for
our doctrine, and for to beware that we fall not to vice nor sin,
but to exercise and follow virtue, by which we may come and
attain to good fame and renown in this life, and after this short
and transitory life to come unto everlasting bliss in heaven; the
which He grant us that reigneth in heaven, the blessed Trinity.
Amen.
Then to proceed forth in this said book, which I direct unto all
noble princes, lords and ladies, gentlemen or gentlewomen, that
desire to read or hear read of the noble and joyous history of
the great conqueror and excellent king, King Arthur,
sometime king of this noble realm, then called Britain; I,
William Caxton, simple person, present this book following, which
I have enprised to imprint: and treateth of the noble acts, feats
of arms of chivalry, prowess, hardiness, humanity, love,
courtesy, and very gentleness, with many wonderful histories and
adventures. And for to understand briefly the content of this
volume, I have divided it into XXI Books, and every book
chaptered, as hereafter shall by God's grace follow. The First
Book shall treat how Uther Pendragon gat the noble conqueror King
Arthur, and containeth xxviii chapters. The Second Book treateth
of Balin the noble knight, and containeth xix chapters. The
Third Book treateth of the marriage of King Arthur to Queen
Guenever, with other matters, and containeth xv chapters. The
Fourth Book, how Merlin was assotted, and of war made to King
Arthur, and containeth xxix chapters. The Fifth Book treateth of
the conquest of Lucius the emperor, and containeth xii chapters.
The Sixth Book treateth of Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel, and
marvellous adventures, and containeth xviii chapters. The
Seventh Book treateth of a noble knight called Sir Gareth, and
named by Sir Kay Beaumains, and containeth xxxvi chapters. The
Eighth Book treateth of the birth of Sir Tristram the noble
knight, and of his acts, and containeth xli chapters. The Ninth
Book treateth of a knight named by Sir Kay Le Cote Male Taille,
and also of Sir Tristram, and containeth xliv chapters. The
Tenth Book treateth of Sir Tristram, and other marvellous
adventures, and containeth lxxxviii chapters. The Eleventh Book
treateth of Sir Launcelot and Sir Galahad, and containeth xiv
chapters. The Twelfth Book treateth of Sir Launcelot and his
madness, and containeth xiv chapters. The Thirteenth Book
treateth how Galahad came first to king Arthur's court, and the
quest how the Sangreal was begun, and containeth xx chapters.
The Fourteenth Book treateth of the quest of the Sangreal,
and containeth x chapters. The Fifteenth Book treateth of Sir
Launcelot, and containeth vi chapters. The Sixteenth Book
treateth of Sir Bors and Sir Lionel his brother, and containeth
xvii chapters. The Seventeenth Book treateth of the Sangreal,
and containeth xxiii chapters. The Eighteenth Book treateth of
Sir Launcelot and the queen, and containeth xxv chapters. The
Nineteenth Book treateth of Queen Guenever and Launcelot, and
containeth xiii chapters. The Twentieth Book treateth of the
piteous death of Arthur, and containeth xxii chapters. The
Twenty-first Book treateth of his last departing, and how Sir
Launcelot came to revenge his death, and containeth xiii
chapters. The sum is twenty-one books, which contain the sum of
five hundred and seven chapters, as more plainly shall follow
hereafter.
IT befell in the days of Uther Pendragon, when he was king of all
England, and so reigned, that there was a mighty duke in Cornwall
that held war against him long time. And the duke was called the
Duke of Tintagil. And so by means King Uther sent for this duke,
charging him to bring his wife with him, for she was called a
fair lady, and a passing wise, and her name was called Igraine.
So when the duke and his wife were come unto the king, by the
means of great lords they were accorded both. The king liked and
loved this lady well, and he made them great cheer out of
measure, and desired to have lain by her. But she was a passing
good woman, and would not assent unto the king. And then she
told the duke her husband, and said, I suppose that we were sent
for that I should be dishonoured; wherefore, husband, I counsel
you, that we depart from hence suddenly, that we may ride all
night unto our own castle. And in like wise as she said so they
departed, that neither the king nor none of his council were ware
of their departing. All so soon as King Uther knew of their
departing so suddenly, he was wonderly wroth. Then he called to
him his privy council, and told them of the sudden departing of
the duke and his wife.
Then they advised the king to send for the duke and his wife by a
great charge; and if he will not come at your summons, then may
ye do your best, then have ye cause to make mighty war upon him.
So that was done, and the messengers had their answers; and that
was this shortly, that neither he nor his wife would not come at
him.
Then was the king wonderly wroth. And then the king sent him
plain word again, and bade him be ready and stuff him and garnish
him, for within forty days he would fetch him out of the biggest
castle that he hath.
When the duke had this warning, anon he went and furnished and
garnished two strong castles of his, of the which the one hight
Tintagil, and the other castle hight Terrabil. So his wife Dame
Igraine he put in the castle of Tintagil, and himself he put in
the castle of Terrabil, the which had many issues and posterns
out. Then in all haste came Uther with a great host, and laid a
siege about the castle of Terrabil. And there he pight many
pavilions, and there was great war made on both parties, and much
people slain. Then for pure anger and for great love of fair
Igraine the king Uther fell sick. So came to the king Uther Sir
Ulfius, a noble knight, and asked the king why he was sick. I
shall tell thee, said the king, I am sick for anger and for love
of fair Igraine, that I may not be whole. Well, my lord, said
Sir Ulfius, I shall seek Merlin, and he shall do you remedy, that
your heart shall be pleased. So Ulfius departed, and by
adventure he met Merlin in a beggar's array, and there Merlin
asked Ulfius whom he sought. And he said he had little ado to
tell him. Well, said Merlin, I know whom thou seekest, for thou
seekest Merlin; therefore seek no farther, for I am he; and if
King Uther will well reward me, and be sworn unto me to fulfil my
desire, that shall be his honour and profit more than mine; for I
shall cause him to have all his desire. All this will I
undertake, said Ulfius, that there shall be nothing reasonable
but thou shalt have thy desire. Well, said Merlin, he shall have
his intent and desire. And therefore, said Merlin, ride on your
way, for I will not be long behind.
THEN Ulfius was glad, and rode on more than a pace till that he
came to King Uther Pendragon, and told him he had met with
Merlin. Where is he? said the king. Sir, said Ulfius, he will
not dwell long. Therewithal Ulfius was ware where Merlin stood
at the porch of the pavilion's door. And then Merlin was bound
to come to the king. When King Uther saw him, he said he was
welcome. Sir, said Merlin, I know all your heart every deal; so
ye will be sworn unto me as ye be a true king anointed, to fulfil
my desire, ye shall have your desire. Then the king was sworn
upon the Four Evangelists. Sir, said Merlin, this is my desire:
the first night that ye shall lie by Igraine ye shall get a child
on her, and when that is born, that it shall be delivered to me
for to nourish there as I will have it; for it shall be your
worship, and the child's avail, as mickle as the child is worth.
I will well, said the king, as thou wilt have it. Now make you
ready, said Merlin, this night ye shall lie with Igraine in the
castle of Tintagil; and ye shall be like the duke her husband,
Ulfius shall be like Sir Brastias, a knight of the duke's, and I
will be like a knight that hight Sir Jordanus, a knight of the
duke's. But wait ye make not many questions with her nor her
men, but say ye are diseased, and so hie you to bed, and rise not
on the morn till I come to you, for the castle of Tintagil is but
ten miles hence; so this was done as they devised. But the duke
of Tintagil espied how the king rode from the siege of Terrabil,
and therefore that night he issued out of the castle at a postern
for to have distressed the king's host. And so, through his own
issue, the duke himself was slain or ever the king came at the
castle of Tintagil.
So after the death of the duke, King Uther lay with Igraine more
than three hours after his death, and begat on her that night
Arthur, and on day came Merlin to the king, and bade him make him
ready, and so he kissed the lady Igraine and departed in all
haste. But when the lady heard tell of the duke her husband, and
by all record he was dead or ever King Uther came to her, then
she marvelled who that might be that lay with her in likeness of
her lord; so she mourned privily and held her peace. Then all
the barons by one assent prayed the king of accord betwixt the
lady Igraine and him; the king gave them leave, for fain would he
have been accorded with her. So the king put all the trust in
Ulfius to entreat between them, so by the entreaty at the last
the king and she met together. Now will we do well, said Ulfius,
our king is a lusty knight and wifeless, and my lady Igraine is a
passing fair lady; it were great joy unto us all, an it might
please the king to make her his queen. Unto that they all well
accorded and moved it to the king. And anon, like a lusty
knight, he assented thereto with good will, and so in all haste
they were married in a morning with great mirth and joy.
And King Lot of Lothian and of Orkney then wedded Margawse that
was Gawaine's mother, and King Nentres of the land of Garlot
wedded Elaine. All this was done at the request of King Uther.
And the third sister Morgan le Fay was put to school in a
nunnery, and there she learned so much that she was a great clerk
of necromancy. And after she was wedded to King Uriens of the
land of Gore, that was Sir Ewain's le Blanchemain's father.
THEN Queen Igraine waxed daily greater and greater, so
it befell after within half a year, as King Uther lay by his
queen, he asked her, by the faith she owed to him, whose was
the child within her
body; then she sore abashed to give answer. Dismay you not, said
the king, but tell me the truth, and I shall love you the better,
by the faith of my body. Sir, said she, I shall tell you the
truth. The same night that my lord was dead, the hour of his
death, as his knights record, there came into my castle of
Tintagil a man like my lord in speech and in countenance, and two
knights with him in likeness of his two knights Brastias and
Jordanus, and so I went unto bed with him as I ought to do with
my lord, and the same night, as I shall answer unto God, this
child was begotten upon me. That is truth, said the king, as ye
say; for it was I myself that came in the likeness, and therefore
dismay you not, for I am father of the child; and there he told
her all the cause, how it was by Merlin's counsel. Then the
queen made great joy when she knew who was the father of her
child.
Soon came Merlin unto the king, and said, Sir, ye must purvey you
for the nourishing of your child. As thou wilt, said the king,
be it. Well, said Merlin, I know a lord of yours in this land,
that is a passing true man and a faithful, and he shall have the
nourishing of your child, and his name is Sir Ector, and he is a
lord of fair livelihood in many parts in England and Wales; and
this lord, Sir Ector, let him be sent for, for to come and speak
with you, and desire him yourself, as he loveth you, that he will
put his own child to nourishing to another woman, and that his
wife nourish yours. And when the child is born let it be
delivered to me at yonder privy postern unchristened. So like as
Merlin devised it was done. And when Sir Ector was come he made
fiaunce to the king for to nourish the child like as the king
desired; and there the king granted Sir Ector great rewards.
Then when the lady was delivered, the king commanded two knights
and two ladies to take the child, bound in a cloth of gold, and
that ye deliver him to what poor man ye meet at the postern gate
of the castle. So the child was delivered unto Merlin, and so he
bare it forth unto Sir Ector, and made an holy man to christen
him, and named him Arthur; and so Sir Ector's wife nourished him
with her own pap.
THEN within two years King Uther fell sick of a great malady.
And in the meanwhile his enemies usurped upon him, and did a
great battle upon his men, and slew many of his people. Sir,
said Merlin, ye may not lie so as ye do, for ye must to the field
though ye ride on an horse-litter: for ye shall never have the
better of your enemies but if your person be there, and then
shall ye have the victory. So it was done as Merlin had devised,
and they carried the king forth in an horse-litter with a great
host towards his enemies. And at St. Albans there met with the
king a great host of the North. And that day Sir Ulfius and Sir
Brastias did great deeds of arms, and King Uther's men overcame
the Northern battle and slew many people, and put the remnant to
flight. And then the king returned unto London, and made great
joy of his victory. And then he fell passing sore sick, so that
three days and three nights he was speechless: wherefore all the
barons made great sorrow, and asked Merlin what counsel were
best. There is none other remedy, said Merlin, but God will have
his will. But look ye all barons be before King Uther to-morn,
and God and I shall make him to speak. So on the morn all the
barons with Merlin came to-fore the king; then Merlin said aloud
unto King Uther, Sir, shall your son Arthur be king after your
days, of this realm with all the appurtenance? Then Uther
Pendragon turned him, and said in hearing of them all, I give him
God's blessing and mine, and bid him pray for my soul, and
righteously and worshipfully that he claim the crown, upon
forfeiture of my blessing; and therewith he yielded up the ghost,
and then was he interred as longed to a king. Wherefore the
queen, fair Igraine, made great sorrow, and all the barons.
THEN stood the realm in great jeopardy long while, for every lord
that was mighty of men made him strong, and many weened to have
been king. Then Merlin went to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and
counselled him for to send for all the lords of the realm, and
all the gentlemen of arms, that they should to London come by
Christmas, upon pain of cursing; and for this cause, that Jesus,
that was born on that night, that he would of his great mercy
show some miracle, as he was come to be king of mankind, for to
show some miracle who should be rightwise king of this realm. So
the Archbishop, by the advice of Merlin, sent for all the lords
and gentlemen of arms that they should come by Christmas even
unto London. And many of them made them clean of their life,
that their prayer might be the more acceptable unto God. So in
the greatest church of London, whether it were Paul's or not the
French book maketh no mention, all the estates were long or day
in the church for to pray. And when matins and the first mass
was done, there was seen in the churchyard, against the high
altar, a great stone four square, like unto a marble stone; and
in midst thereof was like an anvil of steel a foot on high, and
therein stuck a fair sword naked by the point, and letters there
were written in gold about the sword that said thus:--Whoso
pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil, is rightwise king
born of all England. Then the people marvelled, and told it to
the Archbishop. I command, said the Archbishop, that ye keep you
within your church and pray unto God still, that no man touch the
sword till the high mass be all done. So when all masses were
done all the lords went to behold the stone and the sword. And
when they saw the scripture some assayed, such as would have
been king. But none might stir the sword nor move it. He is not
here, said the Archbishop, that shall achieve the sword, but
doubt not God will make him known. But this is my counsel, said
the Archbishop, that we let purvey ten knights, men of good fame,
and they to keep this sword. So it was ordained, and then there
was made a cry, that every man should assay that would, for to
win the sword. And upon New Year's Day the barons let make a
jousts and a tournament, that all knights that would joust or
tourney there might play, and all this was ordained for to keep
the lords together and the commons, for the Archbishop trusted
that God would make him known that should win the sword.
So upon New Year's Day, when the service was done, the barons
rode unto the field, some to joust and some to tourney, and so it
happened that Sir Ector, that had great livelihood about London,
rode unto the jousts, and with him rode Sir Kay his son, and
young Arthur that was his nourished brother; and Sir Kay was made
knight at All Hallowmass afore. So as they rode to the jousts-
ward, Sir Kay lost his sword, for he had left it at his father's
lodging, and so he prayed young Arthur for to ride for his sword.
I will well, said Arthur, and rode fast after the sword, and when
he came home, the lady and all were out to see the jousting.
Then was Arthur wroth, and said to himself, I will ride to the
churchyard, and take the sword with me that sticketh in the
stone, for my brother Sir Kay shall not be without a sword this
day. So when he came to the churchyard, Sir Arthur alighted and
tied his horse to the stile, and so he went to the tent, and
found no knights there, for they were at the jousting. And so he
handled the sword by the handles, and lightly and fiercely pulled
it out of the stone, and took his horse and rode his way until he
came to his brother Sir Kay, and delivered him the sword. And as
soon as Sir Kay saw the sword, he wist well it was the sword of
the stone, and so he rode to his father Sir Ector, and said: Sir,
lo here is the sword of the stone, wherefore I must be king of
this land. When Sir Ector beheld the sword, he returned again and came to the church, and
there they alighted all three, and went into the church. And
anon he made Sir Kay swear upon a book how he came to that sword.
Sir, said Sir Kay, by my brother Arthur, for he brought it to me.
How gat ye this sword? said Sir Ector to Arthur. Sir, I will
tell you. When I came home for my brother's sword, I found
nobody at home to deliver me his sword; and so I thought my
brother Sir Kay should not be swordless, and so I came hither
eagerly and pulled it out of the stone without any pain. Found
ye any knights about this sword? said Sir Ector. Nay, said
Arthur. Now, said Sir Ector to Arthur, I understand ye must be
king of this land. Wherefore I, said Arthur, and for what cause?
Sir, said Ector, for God will have it so; for there should never
man have drawn out this sword, but he that shall be rightwise
king of this land. Now let me see whether ye can put the sword
there as it was, and pull it out again. That is no mastery, said
Arthur, and so he put it in the stone; wherewithal Sir Ector
assayed to pull out the sword and failed.
Now assay, said Sir Ector unto Sir Kay. And anon he pulled at
the sword with all his might; but it would not be. Now shall ye
assay, said Sir Ector to Arthur. I will well, said Arthur, and
pulled it out easily. And therewithal Sir Ector knelt down to
the earth, and Sir Kay. Alas, said Arthur, my own dear father
and brother, why kneel ye to me? Nay, nay, my lord Arthur, it is
not so; I was never your father nor of your blood, but I wot well
ye are of an higher blood than I weened ye were. And then Sir
Ector told him all, how he was betaken him for to nourish him,
and by whose commandment, and by Merlin's deliverance.
Then Arthur made great dole when he understood that Sir Ector was
not his father. Sir, said Ector unto Arthur, will ye be my good
and gracious lord when ye are king? Else were I to blame, said
Arthur, for ye are the man in the world that I am most beholden
to, and my good lady and mother your wife, that as well as her
own hath fostered me and kept. And if ever it be God's will that
I be king as ye say, ye shall desire of me what I may do, and I
shall not fail you; God forbid I should fail you Sir, said Sir
Ector, I will ask no more of you, but that ye will make my son,
your foster brother, Sir Kay, seneschal of all your lands. That
shall be done, said Arthur, and more, by the faith of my body,
that never man shall have that office but he, while he and I live
Therewithal they went unto the Archbishop, and told him how the
sword was achieved, and by whom; and on Twelfth-day all the
barons came thither, and to assay to take the sword, who that
would assay. But there afore them all, there might none take it
out but Arthur; wherefore there were many lords wroth, and said
it was great shame unto them all and the realm, to be
overgoverned with a boy of no high blood born. And so they fell
out at that time that it was put off till Candlemas and then all
the barons should meet there again; but always the ten knights
were ordained to watch the sword day and night, and so they set a
pavilion over the stone and the sword, and five always watched.
So at Candlemas many more great lords came thither for to have
won the sword, but there might none prevail. And right as Arthur
did at Christmas, he did at Candlemas, and pulled out the sword
easily, whereof the barons were sore aggrieved and put it off in
delay till the high feast of Easter. And as Arthur sped before,
so did he at Easter; yet there were some of the great lords had
indignation that Arthur should be king, and put it off in a delay
till the feast of Pentecost.
Then the Archbishop of Canterbury by Merlin's providence let
purvey then of the best knights that they might get, and such
knights as Uther Pendragon loved best and most trusted in his days. And such
knights were put about Arthur as Sir Baudwin of Britain, Sir Kay,
Sir Ulfius, Sir Brastias. All these, with many other, were
always about Arthur, day and night, till the feast of Pentecost.
AND at the feast of Pentecost all manner of men assayed to pull
at the sword that would assay; but none might prevail but Arthur,
and pulled it out afore all the lords and commons that were
there, wherefore all the commons cried at once, We will have
Arthur unto our king, we will put him no more in delay, for we
all see that it is God's will that he shall be our king, and who
that holdeth against it, we will slay him. And therewithal they
kneeled at once, both rich and poor, and cried Arthur mercy
because they had delayed him so long, and Arthur forgave them,
and took the sword between both his hands, and offered it upon
the altar where the Archbishop was, and so was he made knight of
the best man that was there. And so anon was the coronation
made. And there was he sworn unto his lords and the commons for
to be a true king, to stand with true justice from thenceforth
the days of this life. Also then he made all lords that held of
the crown to come in, and to do service as they ought to do. And
many complaints were made unto Sir Arthur of great wrongs that
were done since the death of King Uther, of many lands that were
bereaved lords, knights, ladies, and gentlemen. Wherefore King
Arthur made the lands to be given again unto them that owned
them.
When this was done, that the king had stablished all the
countries about London, then he let make Sir Kay seneschal of
England; and Sir Baudwin of Britain was made constable; and Sir
Ulfius was made chamberlain; and Sir Brastias was made warden to
wait upon the north from Trent forwards, for it was that time the
most party the king's enemies. But within few years after
Arthur won all the north, Scotland, and all that were under their
obeissance. Also Wales, a part of it, held against Arthur, but
he overcame them all, as he did the remnant, through the noble
prowess of himself and his knights of the Round Table.
THEN the king removed into Wales, and let cry a great feast that
it should be holden at Pentecost after the incoronation of him at
the city of Carlion. Unto the feast came King Lot of Lothian and
of Orkney, with five hundred knights with him. Also there came
to the feast King Uriens of Gore with four hundred knights with
him. Also there came to that feast King Nentres of Garlot, with
seven hundred knights with him. Also there came to the feast the
king of Scotland with six hundred knights with him, and he was
but a young man. Also there came to the feast a king that was
called the King with the Hundred Knights, but he and his men were
passing well beseen at all points. Also there came the king of
Carados with five hundred knights. And King Arthur was glad of
their coming, for he weened that all the kings and knights had
come for great love, and to have done him worship at his feast;
wherefore the king made great joy, and sent the kings and knights
great presents. But the kings would none receive, but rebuked
the messengers shamefully, and said they had no joy to receive no
gifts of a beardless boy that was come of low blood, and sent him
word they would none of his gifts, but that they were come to
give him gifts with hard swords betwixt the neck and the
shoulders: and therefore they came thither, so they told to the
messengers plainly, for it was great shame to all them to see
such a boy to have a rule of so noble a realm as this land was.
With this answer the messengers departed and told to King Arthur this answer. Wherefore,
by the advice of his barons, he took him to a strong tower with
five hundred good men with him. And all the kings aforesaid in a
manner laid a siege to-fore him, but King Arthur was well
victualed. And within fifteen days there came Merlin among them
into the city of Carlion. Then all the kings were passing glad
of Merlin, and asked him, For what cause is that boy Arthur made
your king? Sirs, said Merlin, I shall tell you the cause, for he
is King Uther Pendragon's son, born in wedlock, gotten on
Igraine, the duke's wife of Tintagil. Then is he a bastard, they
said all. Nay, said Merlin, after the death of the duke, more
than three hours, was Arthur begotten, and thirteen days after
King Uther wedded Igraine; and therefore I prove him he is no
bastard. And who saith nay, he shall be king and overcome all
his enemies; and, or he die, he shall be long king of all
England, and have under his obeissance Wales, Ireland, and
Scotland, and more realms than I will now rehearse. Some of the
kings had marvel of Merlin's words, and deemed well that it
should be as he said; and some of them laughed him to scorn, as
King Lot; and more other called him a witch. But then were they
accorded with Merlin, that King Arthur should come out and speak
with the kings, and to come safe and to go safe, such surance
there was made. So Merlin went unto King Arthur, and told him
how he had done, and bade him fear not, but come out boldly and
speak with them, and spare them not, but answer them as their
king and chieftain; for ye shall overcome them all, whether they
will or nill.
THEN King Arthur came out of his tower, and had under his gown a
jesseraunt of double mail, and there went with him the
Archbishop of Canterbury, and Sir Baudwin of Britain, and Sir
Kay, and Sir Brastias: these were the men of most worship that
were with him. And when they were met there was no meekness, but
stout words on both sides; but always King Arthur answered them,
and said he would make them to bow an he lived. Wherefore they
departed with wrath, and King Arthur bade keep them well, and
they bade the king keep him well. So the king returned him to
the tower again and armed him and all his knights. What will ye
do? said Merlin to the kings; ye were better for to stint, for ye
shall not here prevail though ye were ten times so many. Be we
well advised to be afeared of a dream-reader? said King Lot.
With that Merlin vanished away, and came to King Arthur, and bade
him set on them fiercely; and in the meanwhile there were three
hundred good men, of the best that were with the kings, that went
straight unto King Arthur, and that comforted him greatly. Sir,
said Merlin to Arthur, fight not with the sword that ye had by
miracle, till that ye see ye go unto the worse, then draw it out
and do your best. So forthwithal King Arthur set upon them in
their lodging. And Sir Baudwin, Sir Kay, and Sir Brastias slew
on the right hand and on the left hand that it was marvel; and
always King Arthur on horseback laid on with a sword, and did
marvellous deeds of arms, that many of the kings had great joy of
his deeds and hardiness.
Then King Lot brake out on the back side, and the King with the
Hundred Knights, and King Carados, and set on Arthur fiercely
behind him. With that Sir Arthur turned with his knights, and
smote behind and before, and ever Sir Arthur was in the foremost
press till his horse was slain underneath him. And therewith
King Lot smote down King Arthur. With that his four knights
received him and set him on horseback. Then he drew his sword
Excalibur, but it was so bright in his enemies' eyes, that it
gave light like thirty torches. And therewith he put them a-
back, and slew much people. And then the commons of Carlion
arose with clubs and staves and slew many knights; but all the kings held them together
with their knights that were left alive, and so fled and
departed. And Merlin came unto Arthur, and counselled him to
follow them no further.
SO after the feast and journey, King Arthur drew him unto London,
and so by the counsel of Merlin, the king let call his barons to
council, for Merlin had told the king that the six kings that
made war upon him would in all haste be awroke on him and on his
lands. Wherefore the king asked counsel at them all. They could
no counsel give, but said they were big enough. Ye say well,
said Arthur; I thank you for your good courage, but will ye all
that loveth me speak with Merlin? ye know well that he hath done
much for me, and he knoweth many things, and when he is afore
you, I would that ye prayed him heartily of his best advice. All
the barons said they would pray him and desire him. So Merlin
was sent for, and fair desired of all the barons to give them
best counsel. I shall say you, said Merlin, I warn you all, your
enemies are passing strong for you, and they are good men of arms
as be alive, and by this time they have gotten to them four kings
more, and a mighty duke; and unless that our king have more
chivalry with him than he may make within the bounds of his own
realm, an he fight with them in battle, he shall be overcome and
slain. What were best to do in this cause? said all the barons.
I shall tell you, said Merlin, mine advice; there are two
brethren beyond the sea, and they be kings both, and marvellous
good men of their hands; and that one hight King Ban of Benwick,
and that other hight King Bors of Gaul, that is France. And
on these two kings warreth a mighty man of men, the King Claudas,
and striveth with them for a castle, and great war is betwixt
them. But this Claudas is so mighty of goods whereof he getteth
good knights, that he putteth these two kings most part to the
worse; wherefore this is my counsel, that our king and sovereign
lord send unto the kings Ban and Bors by two trusty knights with
letters well devised, that an they will come and see King Arthur
and his court, and so help him in his wars, that he will be sworn
unto them to help them in their wars against King Claudas. Now,
what say ye unto this counsel? said Merlin. This is well
counselled, said the king and all the barons.
Right so in all haste there were ordained to go two knights on
the message unto the two kings. So were there made letters in
the pleasant wise according unto King Arthur's desire. Ulfius
and Brastias were made the messengers, and so rode forth well
horsed and well armed and as the guise was that time, and so
passed the sea and rode toward the city of Benwick. And there
besides were eight knights that espied them, and at a strait
passage they met with Ulfius and Brastias, and would have taken
them prisoners; so they prayed them that they might pass, for
they were messengers unto King Ban and Bors sent from King
Arthur. Therefore, said the eight knights, ye shall die or be
prisoners, for we be knights of King Claudas. And therewith two
of them dressed their spears, and Ulfius and Brastias dressed
their spears, and ran together with great raundom. And Claudas'
knights brake their spears, and theirs to-held and bare the two
knights out of their saddles to the earth, and so left them
lying, and rode their ways. And the other six knights rode afore
to a passage to meet with them again, and so Ulfius and Brastias
smote other two down, and so passed on their ways. And at the
fourth passage there met two for two, and both were laid unto the
earth; so there was none of the eight knights but he was sore
hurt or bruised. And when they come to Benwick it fortuned there
were both kings, Ban and Bors.
And when it was told the kings that there were come messengers,
there were sent unto them two knights of worship, the one hight
Lionses, lord of the country of Payarne, and Sir Phariance a
worshipful knight. Anon they asked from whence they came, and
they said from King Arthur, king of England; so they took them in
their arms and made great joy each of other. But anon, as the
two kings wist they were messengers of Arthur's, there was made
no tarrying, but forthwith they spake with the knights, and
welcomed them in the faithfullest wise, and said they were most
welcome unto them before all the kings living; and therewith they
kissed the letters and delivered them. And when Ban and Bors
understood the letters, then they were more welcome than they
were before. And after the haste of the letters they gave them
this answer, that they would fulfil the desire of King Arthur's
writing, and Ulfius and Brastias, tarry there as long as they
would, they should have such cheer as might be made them in those
marches. Then Ulfius and Brastias told the kings of the
adventure at their passages of the eight knights. Ha! ah! said
Ban and Bors, they were my good friends. I would I had wist of
them; they should not have escaped so. So Ulfius and Brastias
had good cheer and great gifts, as much as they might bear away;
and had their answer by mouth and by writing, that those two
kings would come unto Arthur in all the haste that they might.
So the two knights rode on afore, and passed the sea, and came to
their lord, and told him how they had sped, whereof King Arthur
was passing glad. At what time suppose ye the two kings will be
here? Sir, said they, afore All Hallowmass. Then the king let
purvey for a great feast, and let cry a great jousts. And by All
Hallowmass the two kings were come over the sea with three
hundred knights well arrayed both for the peace and for the war.
And King Arthur met with them ten mile out of London, and there
was great joy as could be thought or made. And on All Hallowmass
at the great feast, sat in the hall the three kings, and Sir Kay
seneschal served in the hall, and Sir Lucas the butler, that
was Duke Corneus' son, and Sir Griflet, that was the son of
Cardol, these three knights had the rule of all the service that
served the kings. And anon, as they had washen and risen, all
knights that would joust made them ready; by then they were ready
on horseback there were seven hundred knights. And Arthur, Ban,
and Bors, with the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Sir Ector, Kay's
father, they were in a place covered with cloth of gold like an
hall, with ladies and gentlewomen, for to behold who did best,
and thereon to give judgment.
AND King Arthur and the two kings let depart the seven hundred
knights in two parties. And there were three hundred knights of
the realm of Benwick and of Gaul turned on the other side. Then
they dressed their shields, and began to couch their spears many
good knights. So Griflet was the first that met with a knight,
one Ladinas, and they met so eagerly that all men had wonder; and
they so fought that their shields fell to pieces, and horse and
man fell to the earth; and both the French knight and the English
knight lay so long that all men weened they had been dead. When
Lucas the butler saw Griflet so lie, he horsed him again anon,
and they two did marvellous deeds of arms with many bachelors.
Also Sir Kay came out of an ambushment with five knights with
him, and they six smote other six down. But Sir Kay did that day
marvellous deeds of arms, that there was none did so well as he
that day. Then there came Ladinas and Gracian, two knights of
France, and did passing well, that all men praised them.
Then came there Sir Placidas, a good knight, and met with Sir
Kay, and smote him down horse and man, wherefore Sir Griflet was wroth, and met with Sir
Placidas so hard, that horse and man fell to the earth. But when
the five knights wist that Sir Kay had a fall, they were wroth
out of wit, and therewith each of them five bare down a knight.
When King Arthur and the two kings saw them begin to wax wroth on
both parties, they leapt on small hackneys, and let cry that all
men should depart unto their lodging. And so they went home and
unarmed them, and so to evensong and supper. And after, the
three kings went into a garden, and gave the prize unto Sir Kay,
and to Lucas the butler, and unto Sir Griflet. And then they
went unto council, and with them Gwenbaus, the brother unto Sir
Ban and Bors, a wise clerk, and thither went Ulfius and Brastias,
and Merlin. And after they had been in council, they went unto
bed. And on the morn they heard mass, and to dinner, and so to
their council, and made many arguments what were best to do. At
the last they were concluded, that Merlin should go with a token
of King Ban, and that was a ring, unto his men and King Bors';
and Gracian and Placidas should go again and keep their castles
and their countries, as for [dread of King Claudas] King Ban of
Benwick, and King Bors of Gaul had ordained them, and so passed
the sea and came to Benwick. And when the people saw King Ban's
ring, and Gracian and Placidas, they were glad, and asked how the
kings fared, and made great joy of their welfare and cording, and
according unto the sovereign lords desire, the men of war made
them ready in all haste possible, so that they were fifteen
thousand on horse and foot, and they had great plenty of victual
with them, by Merlin's provision. But Gracian and Placidas were
left to furnish and garnish the castles, for dread of King
Claudas. Right so Merlin passed the sea, well victualled both by
water and by land. And when he came to the sea he sent home the
footmen again, and took no more with him but ten thousand men on
horseback, the most part men of arms, and so shipped and passed
the sea into England, and landed at Dover; and through the wit of
Merlin, he had the host northward, the priviest way that could be
thought, unto the forest of Bedegraine, and there in a valley
he lodged them secretly.
Then rode Merlin unto Arthur and the two kings, and told them how
he had sped; whereof they had great marvel, that man on earth
might speed so soon, and go and come. So Merlin told them ten
thousand were in the forest of Bedegraine, well armed at all
points. Then was there no more to say, but to horseback went all
the host as Arthur had afore purveyed. So with twenty thousand
he passed by night and day, but there was made such an ordinance
afore by Merlin, that there should no man of war ride nor go in
no country on this side Trent water, but if he had a token from
King Arthur, where through the king's enemies durst not ride as
they did to-fore to espy.
AND SO within a little space the three kings came unto the castle
of Bedegraine, and found there a passing fair fellowship, and
well beseen, whereof they had great joy, and victual they wanted
none. This was the cause of the northern host: that they were
reared for the despite and rebuke the six kings had at Carlion.
And those six kings by their means, gat unto them five other
kings; and thus they began to gather their people.
And now they sware that for weal nor woe, they should not leave
other, till they had destroyed Arthur. And then they made an
oath. The first that began the oath was the Duke of Cambenet,
that he would bring with him five thousand men of arms, the which
were ready on horseback. Then sware King Brandegoris of
Stranggore that he would bring five thousand men of arms on
horseback. Then sware King Clariance of Northumberland he would
bring three thousand men of arms. Then sware the King of the Hundred Knights, that was a passing good
man and a young, that he would bring four thousand men of arms on
horseback. Then there swore King Lot, a passing good knight, and
Sir Gawain's father, that he would bring five thousand men of
arms on horseback. Also there swore King Urience, that was Sir
Uwain's father, of the land of Gore, and he would bring six
thousand men of arms on horseback. Also there swore King Idres
of Cornwall, that he would bring five thousand men of arms on
horseback. Also there swore King Cradelmas to bring five
thousand men on horseback. Also there swore King Agwisance of
Ireland to bring five thousand men of arms on horseback. Also
there swore King Nentres to bring five thousand men of arms on
horseback. Also there swore King Carados to bring five thousand
men of arms on horseback. So their whole host was of clean men
of arms on horseback fifty thousand, and a-foot ten thousand of
good men's bodies. Then were they soon ready, and mounted upon
horse and sent forth their fore-riders, for these eleven kings in
their ways laid a siege unto the castle of Bedegraine; and so
they departed and drew toward Arthur, and left few to abide at
the siege, for the castle of Bedegraine was holden of King
Arthur, and the men that were therein were Arthur's.
So by Merlin's advice there were sent fore-riders to skim the
country, and they met with the fore-riders of the north, and made
them to tell which way the host came, and then they told it to
Arthur, and by King Ban and Bors' council they let burn and
destroy all the country afore them, there they should ride.
The King with the Hundred Knights met a wonder dream two nights
afore the battle, that there blew a great wind, and blew down
their castles and their towns, and after that came a water and
bare it all away. All that heard of the sweven said it was a
token of great battle. Then by counsel of Merlin, when they wist
which way the eleven kings would ride and lodge that night, at
midnight they set upon them, as they were in their pavilions.
But the scout-watch by their host cried, Lords! at arms! for here
be your enemies at your hand!
THEN King Arthur and King Ban and King Bors, with their good and
trusty knights, set on them so fiercely that they made them
overthrow their pavilions on their heads, but the eleven kings,
by manly prowess of arms, took a fair champaign, but there was
slain that morrowtide ten thousand good men's bodies. And so
they had afore them a strong passage, yet were they fifty
thousand of hardy men. Then it drew toward day. Now shall ye do
by mine advice, said Merlin unto the three kings: I would that
King Ban and King Bors, with their fellowship of ten thousand
men, were put in a wood here beside, in an ambushment, and keep
them privy, and that they be laid or the light of the day come,
and that they stir not till ye and your knights have fought with
them long. And when it is daylight, dress your battle even afore
them and the passage, that they may see all your host, for then
will they be the more hardy, when they see you but about twenty
thousand men, and cause them to be the gladder to suffer you and
your host to come over the passage. All the three kings and the
whole barons said that Merlin said passingly well, and it was
done anon as Merlin had devised. So on the morn, when either
host saw other, the host of the north was well comforted. Then
to Ulfius and Brastias
were delivered three thousand men of arms, and they set on them
fiercely in the passage, and slew on the right hand and on the
left hand that it was wonder to tell.
When that the eleven kings saw that there was so few a fellowship
did such deeds of arms, they were ashamed and set on them again
fiercely; and there was Sir Ulfius's horse slain under him, but
he did marvellously well on foot. But the Duke Eustace of
Cambenet and King Clariance of Northumberland, were alway
grievous on Ulfius. Then Brastias saw his fellow fared so withal
he smote the duke with a spear, that horse and man fell down.
That saw King Clariance and returned unto Brastias, and either
smote other so that horse and man went to the earth, and so they
lay long astonied, and their horses' knees brast to the hard
bone. Then came Sir Kay the seneschal with six fellows with him,
and did passing well. With that came the eleven kings, and there
was Griflet put to the earth, horse and man, and Lucas the
butler, horse and man, by King Brandegoris, and King Idres, and
King Agwisance. Then waxed the medley passing hard on both
parties. When Sir Kay saw Griflet on foot, he rode on King
Nentres and smote him down, and led his horse unto Sir Griflet,
and horsed him again. Also Sir Kay with the same spear smote
down King Lot, and hurt him passing sore. That saw the King with
the Hundred Knights, and ran unto Sir Kay and smote him down, and
took his horse, and gave him King Lot, whereof he said gramercy.
When Sir Griflet saw Sir Kay and Lucas the butler on foot, he
took a sharp spear, great and square, and rode to Pinel, a good
man of arms, and smote horse and man down, and then he took his
horse, and gave him unto Sir Kay. Then King Lot saw King Nentres
on foot, he ran unto Melot de la Roche, and smote him down, horse
and man, and gave King Nentres the horse, and horsed him again.
Also the King of the Hundred Knights saw King Idres on foot; then
he ran unto Gwiniart de Bloi, and smote him down, horse and man,
and gave King Idres the horse, and horsed him again; and King
Lot smote down Clariance de la Forest Savage, and gave the horse
unto Duke Eustace. And so when they had horsed the kings again
they drew them, all eleven kings, together, and said they would
be revenged of the damage that they had taken that day. The
meanwhile came in Sir Ector with an eager countenance, and found
Ulfius and Brastias on foot, in great peril of death, that were
foul defoiled under horse-feet.
Then Arthur as a lion, ran unto King Cradelment of North Wales,
and smote him through the left side, that the horse and the king
fell down; and then he took the horse by the rein, and led him
unto Ulfius, and said, Have this horse, mine old friend, for
great need hast thou of horse. Gramercy, said Ulfius. Then Sir
Arthur did so marvellously in arms, that all men had wonder.
When the King with the Hundred Knights saw King Cradelment on
foot, he ran unto Sir Ector, that was well horsed, Sir Kay's
father, and smote horse and man down, and gave the horse unto the
king, and horsed him again. And when King Arthur saw the king
ride on Sir Ector's horse, he was wroth and with his sword he
smote the king on the helm, that a quarter of the helm and shield
fell down, and so the sword carved down unto the horse's neck,
and so the king and the horse fell down to the ground. Then Sir
Kay came unto Sir Morganore, seneschal with the King of the
Hundred Knights, and smote him down, horse and man, and led the
horse unto his father, Sir Ector; then Sir Ector ran unto a
knight, hight Lardans, and smote horse and man down, and led the
horse unto Sir Brastias, that great need had of an horse, and was
greatly defoiled. When Brastias beheld Lucas the butler, that
lay like a dead man under the horses' feet, and ever Sir Griflet
did marvellously for to rescue him, and there were always
fourteen knights on Sir Lucas; then Brastias smote one of them on
the helm, that it went to the teeth, and he rode to another and
smote him, that the arm flew into the field. Then he went to the
third and smote him on the shoulder, that shoulder and arm flew
in the field. And when
Griflet saw rescues, he smote a knight on the temples, that head
and helm went to the earth, and Griflet took the horse of that
knight, and led him unto Sir Lucas, and bade him mount upon the
horse and revenge his hurts. For Brastias had slain a knight to-
fore and horsed Griflet.
THEN Lucas saw King Agwisance, that late had slain Moris de la
Roche, and Lucas ran to him with a short spear that was great,
that he gave him such a fall, that the horse fell down to the
earth. Also Lucas found there on foot, Bloias de La Flandres,
and Sir Gwinas, two hardy knights, and in that woodness that
Lucas was in, he slew two bachelors and horsed them again. Then
waxed the battle passing hard on both parties, but Arthur was
glad that his knights were horsed again, and then they fought
together, that the noise and sound rang by the water and the
wood. Wherefore King Ban and King Bors made them ready, and
dressed their shields and harness, and they were so courageous
that many knights shook and bevered for eagerness. All this
while Lucas, and Gwinas, and Briant, and Bellias of Flanders,
held strong medley against six kings, that was King Lot, King
Nentres, King Brandegoris, King Idres, King Uriens, and King
Agwisance. So with the help of Sir Kay and of Sir Griflet they
held these six kings hard, that unnethe they had any power to
defend them. But when Sir Arthur saw the battle would not be
ended by no manner, he fared wood as a lion, and steered his
horse here and there, on the right hand, and on the left hand,
that he stinted not till he had slain twenty knights. Also he
wounded King Lot sore on the shoulder, and made him to leave that
ground, for Sir Kay and Griflet did with King Arthur there great
deeds of arms. Then Ulfius, and Brastias, and Sir Ector
encountered against the Duke Eustace, and King Cradelment,
and King Clariance of Northumberland, and King Carados, and
against the King with the Hundred Knights. So these knights
encountered with these kings, that they made them to avoid the
ground. Then King Lot made great dole for his damages and his
fellows, and said unto the ten kings, But if ye will do as I
devise we shall be slain and destroyed; let me have the King with
the Hundred Knights, and King Agwisance, and King Idres, and the
Duke of Cambenet, and we five kings will have fifteen thousand
men of arms with us, and we will go apart while ye six kings hold
medley with twelve thousand; an we see that ye have foughten with
them long, then will we come on fiercely, and else shall we never
match them, said King Lot, but by this mean. So they departed as
they here devised, and six kings made their party strong against
Arthur, and made great war long.
In the meanwhile brake the ambushment of King Ban and King Bors,
and Lionses and Phariance had the vanguard, and they two knights
met with King Idres and his fellowship, and there began a great
medley of breaking of spears, and smiting of swords, with slaying
of men and horses, and King Idres was near at discomforture.
That saw Agwisance the king, and put Lionses and Phariance in
point of death; for the Duke of Cambenet came on withal with a
great fellowship. So these two knights were in great danger of
their lives that they were fain to return, but always they
rescued themselves and their fellowship marvellously When King
Bors saw those knights put aback, it grieved him sore; then he
came on so fast that his fellowship seemed as black as Inde.
When King Lot had espied King Bors, he knew him well, then he
said, O Jesu, defend us from death and horrible maims! for I see
well we be in great peril of death; for I see yonder a king, one
of the most worshipfullest men and one of the best knights of the
world, is inclined unto his fellowship. What is he? said the
King with the Hundred Knights. It is, said King Lot, King Bors
of Gaul; I marvel how they came into this country without
witting of us all. It was by Merlin's advice, said the
knight. As for him, said King Carados, I will encounter with
King Bors, an ye will rescue me when myster is. Go on, said they
all, we will do all that we may. Then King Carados and his host
rode on a soft pace, till that they came as nigh King Bors as
bow-draught; then either battle let their horse run as fast as
they might. And Bleoberis, that was godson unto King Bors, he
bare his chief standard, that was a passing good knight. Now
shall we see, said King Bors, how these northern Britons can bear
the arms: and King Bors encountered with a knight, and smote him
throughout with a spear that he fell dead unto the earth; and
after drew his sword and did marvellous deeds of arms, that all
parties had great wonder thereof; and his knights failed not, but
did their part, and King Carados was smitten to the earth. With
that came the King with the Hundred Knights and rescued King
Carados mightily by force of arms, for he was a passing good
knight of a king, and but a young man.
BY then came into the field King Ban as fierce as a lion, with
bands of green and thereupon gold. Ha! a! said King Lot, we must
be discomfited, for yonder I see the most valiant knight of the
world, and the man of the most renown, for such two brethren as
is King Ban and King Bors are not living, wherefore we must needs
void or die; and but if we avoid manly and wisely there is but
death. When King Ban came into the battle, he came in so
fiercely that the strokes redounded again from the wood and the
water; wherefore King Lot wept for pity and dole that he saw so
many good knights take their end. But through the great force of
King Ban they made both the northern battles that were departed
hurtled together for great dread; and the three kings and
their knights slew on ever, that it was pity on to behold that
multitude of the people that fled. But King Lot, and King of the
Hundred Knights, and King Morganore gathered the people together
passing knightly, and did great prowess of arms, and held the
battle all that day, like hard.
When the King of the Hundred Knights beheld the great damage that
King Ban did, he thrust unto him with his horse, and smote him on
high upon the helm, a great stroke, and astonied him sore. Then
King Ban was wroth with him, and followed on him fiercely; the
other saw that, and cast up his shield, and spurred his horse
forward, but the stroke of King Ban fell down and carved a cantel
off the shield, and the sword slid down by the hauberk behind his
back, and cut through the trapping of steel and the horse even in
two pieces, that the sword felt the earth. Then the King of the
Hundred Knights voided the horse lightly, and with his sword he
broached the horse of King Ban through and through. With that
King Ban voided lightly from the dead horse, and then King Ban
smote at the other so eagerly, and smote him on the helm that he
fell to the earth. Also in that ire he felled King Morganore,
and there was great slaughter of good knights and much people.
By then came into the press King Arthur, and found King Ban
standing among dead men and dead horses, fighting on foot as a
wood lion, that there came none nigh him, as far as he might
reach with his sword, but he caught a grievous buffet; whereof
King Arthur had great pity. And Arthur was so bloody, that by
his shield there might no man know him, for all was blood and
brains on his sword. And as Arthur looked by him he saw a knight
that was passingly well horsed, and therewith Sir Arthur ran to
him, and smote him on the helm, that his sword went unto his
teeth, and the knight sank down to the earth dead, and anon
Arthur took the horse by the rein, and led him unto King Ban, and
said, Fair brother, have this horse, for he have great myster
thereof, and me repenteth sore of your great damage. It shall be
soon revenged, said King Ban, for I trust in God mine ure is
not such but some of them may sore repent this. I will well,
said Arthur, for I see your deeds full actual; nevertheless, I
might not come at you at that time.
But when King Ban was mounted on horseback, then there began new
battle, the which was sore and hard, and passing great slaughter.
And so through great force King Arthur, King Ban, and King Bors
made their knights a little to withdraw them. But alway the
eleven kings with their chivalry never turned back; and so
withdrew them to a little wood, and so over a little river, and
there they rested them, for on the night they might have no rest
on the field. And then the eleven kings and knights put them on
a heap all together, as men adread and out of all comfort. But
there was no man might pass them, they held them so hard together
both behind and before, that King Arthur had marvel of their
deeds of arms, and was passing wroth. Ah, Sir Arthur, said King
Ban and King Bors, blame them not, for they do as good men ought
to do. For by my faith, said King Ban, they are the best
fighting men, and knights of most prowess, that ever I saw or
heard speak of, and those eleven kings are men of great worship;
and if they were longing unto you there were no king under the
heaven had such eleven knights, and of such worship. I may not
love them, said Arthur, they would destroy me. That wot we well,
said King Ban and King Bors, for they are your mortal enemies,
and that hath been proved aforehand; and this day they have done
their part, and that is great pity of their wilfulness.
Then all the eleven kings drew them together, and then said King
Lot, Lords, ye must other ways than ye do, or else the great loss
is behind; ye may see what people we have lost, and what good men
we lose, because we wait always on these foot-men, and ever in
saving of one of the foot-men we lose ten horsemen for him;
therefore this is mine advice, let us put our foot-men from us,
for it is near night, for the noble Arthur will not tarry on the
footmen, for they may save themselves, the wood is near hand.
And when we horsemen be together, look every each of you kings
let make such ordinance that none break upon pain of death.
And who that seeth any man dress him to flee, lightly that he be
slain, for it is better that we slay a coward, than through a
coward all we to be slain. How say ye? said King Lot, answer me
all ye kings. It is well said, quoth King Nentres; so said the
King of the Hundred Knights; the same said the King Carados, and
King Uriens; so did King Idres and King Brandegoris; and so did
King Cradelment, and the Duke of Cambenet; the same said King
Clariance and King Agwisance, and sware they would never fail
other, neither for life nor for death. And whoso that fled, but
did as they did, should be slain. Then they amended their
harness, and righted their shields, and took new spears and set
them on their thighs, and stood still as it had been a plump of
wood.
WHEN Sir Arthur and King Ban and Bors beheld them and all their
knights, they praised them much for their noble cheer of
chivalry, for the hardiest fighters that ever they heard or saw.
With that, there dressed them a forty noble knights, and said
unto the three kings, they would break their battle; these were
their names: Lionses, Phariance, Ulfius, Brastias, Ector, Kay,
Lucas the butler, Griflet le Fise de Dieu, Mariet de la Roche,
Guinas de Bloi, Briant de la Forest Savage, Bellaus, Morians of
the Castle [of] Maidens, Flannedrius of the Castle of Ladies,
Annecians that was King Bors' godson, a noble knight, Ladinas de
la Rouse, Emerause, Caulas, Graciens le Castlein, one Blois de la
Case, and Sir Colgrevaunce de Gorre; all these knights rode on
afore with spears on their thighs, and spurred their horses
mightily as the horses might run. And the eleven kings with part
of their knights rushed with their horses as fast as they might
with their spears, and there they did on both parties marvellous
deeds of arms. So came into the thick of the press, Arthur,
Ban, and Bors, and slew down right on both hands, that their
horses went in blood up to the fetlocks. But ever the eleven
kings and their host was ever in the visage of Arthur. Wherefore
Ban and Bors had great marvel, considering the great slaughter
that there was, but at the last they were driven aback over a
little river. With that came Merlin on a great black horse, and
said unto Arthur, Thou hast never done! Hast thou not done
enough? of three score thousand this day hast thou left alive but
fifteen thousand, and it is time to say Ho! For God is wroth
with thee, that thou wilt never have done; for yonder eleven
kings at this time will not be overthrown, but an thou tarry on
them any longer, thy fortune will turn and they shall increase.
And therefore withdraw you unto your lodging, and rest you as
soon as ye may, and reward your good knights with gold and with
silver, for they have well deserved it; there may no riches be
too dear for them, for of so few men as ye have, there were never
men did more of prowess than they have done today, for ye have
matched this day with the best fighters of the world. That is
truth, said King Ban and Bors. Also said Merlin, withdraw you
where ye list, for this three year I dare undertake they shall
not dere you; and by then ye shall hear new tidings. And then
Merlin said unto Arthur, These eleven kings have more on hand
than they are ware of, for the Saracens are landed in their
countries, more than forty thousand, that burn and slay, and have
laid siege at the castle Wandesborow, and make great destruction;
therefore dread you not this three year. Also, sir, all the
goods that be gotten at this battle, let it be searched, and when
ye have it in your hands, let it be given freely unto these two
kings, Ban and Bors, that they may reward their knights withal;
and that shall cause strangers to be of better will to do you
service at need. Also you be able to reward your own knights of
your own goods whensomever it liketh you. It is well said, quoth
Arthur, and as thou hast devised, so shall it be done. When it
was delivered to Ban and Bors, they gave the goods as freely
to their knights as freely as it was given to them. Then Merlin
took his leave of Arthur and of the two kings, for to go and see
his master Bleise, that dwelt in Northumberland; and so he
departed and came to his master, that was passing glad of his
coming; and there he told how Arthur and the two kings had sped
at the great battle, and how it was ended, and told the names of
every king and knight of worship that was there. And so Bleise
wrote the battle word by word, as Merlin told him, how it began,
and by whom, and in likewise how it was ended, and who had the
worse. All the battles that were done in Arthur's days Merlin
did his master Bleise do write; also he did do write all the
battles that every worthy knight did of Arthur's court.
After this Merlin departed from his master and came to King
Arthur, that was in the castle of Bedegraine, that was one of the
castles that stand in the forest of Sherwood. And Merlin was so
disguised that King Arthur knew him not, for he was all befurred
in black sheep-skins, and a great pair of boots, and a bow and
arrows, in a russet gown, and brought wild geese in his hand, and
it was on the morn after Candlemas day; but King Arthur knew him
not. Sir, said Merlin unto the king, will ye give me a gift?
Wherefore, said King Arthur, should I give thee a gift, churl?
Sir, said Merlin, ye were better to give me a gift that is not in
your hand than to lose great riches, for here in the same place
where the great battle was, is great treasure hid in the earth.
Who told thee so, churl? said Arthur. Merlin told me so, said
he. Then Ulfius and Brastias knew him well enough, and smiled.
Sir, said these two knights, it is Merlin that so speaketh unto
you. Then King Arthur was greatly abashed, and had marvel of
Merlin, and so had King Ban and King Bors, and so they had great
disport at him. So in the meanwhile there came a damosel that
was an earl's daughter: his name was Sanam, and her name was
Lionors, a passing fair damosel; and so she came thither for to
do homage, as other lords did after the great battle. And King
Arthur set his love greatly upon her, and so did she upon him,
and the king had ado with her, and gat on her a child: his
name was Borre, that was after a good knight, and of the Table
Round. Then there came word that the King Rience of North Wales
made great war on King Leodegrance of Cameliard, for the which
thing Arthur was wroth, for he loved him well, and hated King
Rience, for he was alway against him. So by ordinance of the
three kings that were sent home unto Benwick, all they would
depart for dread of King Claudas; and Phariance, and Antemes, and
Gratian, and Lionses [of] Payarne, with the leaders of those that
should keep the kings' lands.
AND then King Arthur, and King Ban, and King Bors departed with
their fellowship, a twenty thousand, and came within six days
into the country of Cameliard, and there rescued King
Leodegrance, and slew there much people of King Rience, unto the
number of ten thousand men, and put him to flight. And then had
these three kings great cheer of King Leodegrance, that thanked
them of their great goodness, that they would revenge him of his
enemies; and there had Arthur the first sight of Guenever, the
king's daughter of Cameliard, and ever after he loved her. After
they were wedded, as it telleth in the book. So, briefly to make
an end, they took their leave to go into their own countries, for
King Claudas did great destruction on their lands. Then said
Arthur, I will go with you. Nay, said the kings, ye shall not at
this time, for ye have much to do yet in these lands, therefore
we will depart, and with the great goods that we have gotten in
these lands by your gifts, we shall wage good knights and
withstand the King Claudas' malice, for by the grace of God, an
we have need we will send to you for your succour; and if ye
have need, send for us, and we will not tarry, by the faith of
our bodies. It shall not, said Merlin, need that these two kings
come again in the way of war, but I know well King Arthur may not
be long from you, for within a year or two ye shall have great
need, and then shall he revenge you on your enemies, as ye have
done on his. For these eleven kings shall die all in a day, by
the great might and prowess of arms of two valiant knights (as it
telleth after); their names be Balin le Savage, and Balan, his
brother, that be marvellous good knights as be any living.
Now turn we to the eleven kings that returned unto a city that
hight Sorhaute, the which city was within King Uriens', and there
they refreshed them as well as they might, and made leeches
search their wounds, and sorrowed greatly for the death of their
people. With that there came a messenger and told how there was
come into their lands people that were lawless as well as
Saracens, a forty thousand, and have burnt and slain all the
people that they may come by, without mercy, and have laid siege
on the castle of Wandesborow. Alas, said the eleven kings, here
is sorrow upon sorrow, and if we had not warred against Arthur as
we have done, he would soon revenge us. As for King Leodegrance,
he loveth Arthur better than us, and as for King Rience, he hath
enough to do with Leodegrance, for he hath laid siege unto him.
So they consented together to keep all the marches of Cornwall,
of Wales, and of the North. So first, they put King Idres in the
City of Nauntes in Britain, with four thousand men of arms, to
watch both the water and the land. Also they put in the city of
Windesan, King Nentres of Garlot, with four thousand knights to
watch both on water and on land. Also they had of other men of
war more than eight thousand, for to fortify all the fortresses
in the marches of Cornwall. Also they put more knights in all
the marches of Wales and Scotland, with many good men of arms,
and so they kept them together the space of three year, and ever
allied them with mighty kings and dukes and lords. And to them
fell King Rience of North Wales, the which and Nero that was
a mighty man of men. And all this while they furnished them and
garnished them of good men of arms, and victual, and of all
manner of habiliment that pretendeth to the war, to avenge them
for the battle of Bedegraine, as it telleth in the book of
adventures following.
THEN after the departing of King Ban and of King Bors, King
Arthur rode into Carlion. And thither came to him, King Lot's
wife, of Orkney, in manner of a message, but she was sent thither
to espy the court of King Arthur; and she came richly beseen,
with her four sons, Gawaine, Gaheris, Agravine, and Gareth, with
many other knights and ladies. For she was a passing fair lady,
therefore the king cast great love unto her, and desired to lie
by her; so they were agreed, and he begat upon her Mordred, and
she was his sister, on his mother's side, Igraine. So there she
rested her a month, and at the last departed. Then the king
dreamed a marvellous dream whereof he was sore adread. But all
this time King Arthur knew not that King Lot's wife was his
sister. Thus was the dream of Arthur: Him thought there was
come into this land griffins and serpents, and him thought they
burnt and slew all the people in the land, and then him thought
he fought with them, and they did him passing great harm, and
wounded him full sore, but at the last he slew them. When the
king awaked, he was passing heavy of his dream, and so to put it
out of thoughts, he made him ready with many knights to ride a-
hunting. As soon as he was in the forest the king saw a great
hart afore him. This hart will I chase, said King Arthur, and so
he spurred the horse, and rode after long, and so by fine force
oft he was like to have smitten the hart; whereas the king
had chased the hart so long, that his horse lost his breath, and
fell down dead. Then a yeoman fetched the king another horse.
So the king saw the hart enbushed, and his horse dead, he set him
down by a fountain, and there he fell in great thoughts. And as
he sat so, him thought he heard a noise of hounds, to the sum of
thirty. And with that the king saw coming toward him the
strangest beast that ever he saw or heard of; so the beast went
to the well and drank, and the noise was in the beast's belly
like unto the questing of thirty couple hounds; but all the while
the beast drank there was no noise in the beast's belly: and
there.with the beast departed with a great noise, whereof the
king had great marvel. And so he was in a great thought, and
therewith he fell asleep. Right so there came a knight afoot
unto Arthur and said, Knight full of thought and sleepy, tell me
if thou sawest a strange beast pass this way. Such one saw I,
said King Arthur, that is past two mile; what would ye with the
beast? said Arthur. Sir, I have followed that beast long time,
and killed mine horse, so would God I had another to follow my
quest. Right so came one with the king's horse, and when the
knight saw the horse, he prayed the king to give him the horse:
for I have followed this quest this twelvemonth, and either I
shall achieve him, or bleed of the best blood of my body.
Pellinore, that time king, followed the Questing Beast, and after
his death Sir Palamides followed it.
SIR knight, said the king, leave that quest, and suffer me
to have it, and I will follow it another twelvemonth. Ah,
fool, said the knight unto Arthur, it is in vain thy desire,
for it shall never be achieved but by me, or my next kin.
Therewith he started unto the king's horse and mounted into the
saddle, and said, Gramercy, this horse is my own. Well, said the
king, thou mayst take my horse by force, but an I might prove
thee whether thou were better on horseback or I.--Well, said the
knight, seek me here when thou wilt, and here nigh this well thou
shalt find me, and so passed on his way. Then the king sat in a
study, and bade his men fetch his horse as fast as ever they
might. Right so came by him Merlin like a child of fourteen year
of age, and saluted the king, and asked him why he was so
pensive. I may well be pensive, said the king, for I have seen
the marvellest sight that ever I saw. That know I well, said
Merlin, as well as thyself, and of all thy thoughts, but thou art
but a fool to take thought, for it will not amend thee. Also I
know what thou art, and who was thy father, and of whom thou wert
begotten; King Uther Pendragon was thy father, and begat thee on
Igraine. That is false, said King Arthur, how shouldest thou
know it, for thou art not so old of years to know my father?
Yes, said Merlin, I know it better than ye or any man living. I
will not believe thee, said Arthur, and was wroth with the child.
So departed Merlin, and came again in the likeness of an old man
of fourscore year of age, whereof the king was right glad, for he
seemed to be right wise.
Then said the old man, Why are ye so sad? I may well be heavy,
said Arthur, for many things. Also here was a child, and told me
many things that meseemeth he should not know, for he was not of
age to know my father. Yes, said the old man, the child told you
truth, and more would he have told you an ye would have suffered
him. But ye have done a thing late that God is displeased with
you, for ye have lain by your sister, and on her ye have gotten a
child that shall destroy you and all the knights of your realm.
What are ye, said Arthur, that tell me these tidings? I am
Merlin, and I was he in the child's likeness. Ah, said King
Arthur, ye are a marvellous man, but I marvel much of thy words
that I must die in battle. Marvel not, said Merlin, for it is
God's will your body to be punished for your foul deeds; but
I may well be sorry, said Merlin, for I shall die a shameful
death, to be put in the earth quick, and ye shall die a
worshipful death. And as they talked this, came one with the
king's horse, and so the king mounted on his horse, and Merlin on
another, and so rode unto Carlion. And anon the king asked Ector
and Ulfius how he was begotten, and they told him Uther Pendragon
was his father and Queen Igraine his mother. Then he said to
Merlin, I will that my mother be sent for that I may speak with
her; and if she say so herself then will I believe it. In all
haste, the queen was sent for, and she came and brought with her
Morgan le Fay, her daughter, that was as fair a lady as any might
be, and the king welcomed Igraine in the best manner.
RIGHT SO came Ulfius, and said openly, that the king and all
might hear that were feasted that day, Ye are the falsest lady of
the world, and the most traitress unto the king's person.
Beware, said Arthur, what thou sayest; thou speakest a great
word. I am well ware, said Ulfius, what I speak, and here is my
glove to prove it upon any man that will say the contrary, that
this Queen Igraine is causer of your great damage, and of your
great war. For, an she would have uttered it in the life of King
Uther Pendragon, of the birth of you, and how ye were begotten ye
had never had the mortal wars that ye have had; for the most part
of your barons of your realm knew never whose son ye were, nor of
whom ye were begotten; and she that bare you of her body should
have made it known openly in excusing of her worship and yours,
and in like wise to all the realm, wherefore I prove her
false to God and to you and to all your realm, and who will say
the contrary I will prove it on his body.
Then spake Igraine and said, I am a woman and I may not fight,
but rather than I should be dishonoured, there would some good
man take my quarrel. More, she said, Merlin knoweth well, and ye
Sir Ulfius, how King Uther came to me in the Castle of Tintagil
in the likeness of my lord, that was dead three hours to-fore,
and thereby gat a child that night upon me. And after the
thirteenth day King Uther wedded me, and by his commandment when
the child was born it was delivered unto Merlin and nourished by
him, and so I saw the child never after, nor wot not what is his
name, for I knew him never yet. And there, Ulfius said to the
queen, Merlin is more to blame than ye. Well I wot, said the
queen, I bare a child by my lord King Uther, but I wot not where
he is become. Then Merlin took the king by the hand, saying,
This is your mother. And therewith Sir Ector bare witness how he
nourished him by Uther's commandment. And therewith King Arthur
took his mother, Queen Igraine, in his arms and kissed her, and
either wept upon other. And then the king let make a feast that
lasted eight days.
Then on a day there came in the court a squire on horseback,
leading a knight before him wounded to the death, and told him
how there was a knight in the forest had reared up a pavilion by
a well, and hath slain my master, a good knight, his name was
Miles; wherefore I beseech you that my master may be buried, and
that some knight may revenge my master's death. Then the noise
was great of that knight's death in the court, and every man said
his advice. Then came Griflet that was but a squire, and he was
but young, of the age of the king Arthur, so he besought the king
for all his service that he had done him to give the order of
knighthood.
THOU art full young and tender of age, said Arthur, for to take
so high an order on thee. Sir, said Griflet, I beseech you make
me knight. Sir, said Merlin, it were great pity to lose Griflet,
for he will be a passing good man when he is of age, abiding with
you the term of his life. And if he adventure his body with
yonder knight at the fountain, it is in great peril if ever he
come again, for he is one of the best knights of the world, and
the strongest man of arms. Well, said Arthur. So at the desire
of Griflet the king made him knight. Now, said Arthur unto Sir
Griflet, sith I have made you knight thou must give me a gift.
What ye will, said Griflet. Thou shalt promise me by the faith
of thy body, when thou hast jousted with the knight at the
fountain, whether it fall ye be on foot or on horseback, that
right so ye shall come again unto me without making any more
debate. I will promise you, said Griflet, as you desire. Then
took Griflet his horse in great haste, and dressed his shield and
took a spear in his hand, and so he rode a great wallop till he
came to the fountain, and thereby he saw a rich pavilion, and
thereby under a cloth stood a fair horse well saddled and
bridled, and on a tree a shield of divers colours and a great
spear. Then Griflet smote on the shield with the butt of his
spear, that the shield fell down to the ground. With that the
knight came out of the pavilion, and said, Fair knight, why smote
ye down my shield? For I will joust with you, said Griflet. It
is better ye do not, said the knight, for ye are but young, and
late made knight, and your might is nothing to mine. As for
that, said Griflet, I will joust with you. That is me loath,
said the knight, but sith I must needs, I will dress me thereto.
Of whence be ye? said the knight. Sir, I am of Arthur's court.
So the two knights ran together that Griflet's spear all to-
shivered; and there withal he smote Griflet through the shield
and the left side, and brake the spear that the truncheon stuck
in his body, that horse and knight fell down.
WHEN the knight saw him lie so on the ground, he alighted, and
was passing heavy, for he weened he had slain him, and then he
unlaced his helm and gat him wind, and so with the truncheon he
set him on his horse, and so betook him to God, and said he had a
mighty heart, and if he might live he would prove a passing good
knight. And so Sir Griflet rode to the court, where great dole
was made for him. But through good leeches he was healed and
saved. Right so came into the court twelve knights, and were
aged men, and they came from the Emperor of Rome, and they asked
of Arthur truage for this realm, other else the emperor would
destroy him and his land. Well, said King Arthur, ye are
messengers, therefore ye may say what ye will, other else ye
should die therefore. But this is mine answer: I owe the emperor
no truage, nor none will I hold him, but on a fair field I shall
give him my truage that shall be with a sharp spear, or else with
a sharp sword, and that shall not be long, by my father's soul,
Uther Pendragon. And therewith the messengers departed passingly
wroth, and King Arthur as wroth, for in evil time came they then;
for the king was passingly wroth for the hurt of Sir Griflet.
And so he commanded a privy man of his chamber that or it be day
his best horse and armour, with all that longeth unto his person,
be without the city or to-morrow day. Right so or to-morrow day
he met with his man and his horse, and so mounted up and
dressed his shield and took his spear, and bade his
chamberlain tarry there till he came again. And so Arthur rode a
soft pace till it was day, and then was he ware of three churls
chasing Merlin, and would have slain him. Then the king rode
unto them, and bade them: Flee, churls! then were they afeard
when they saw a knight, and fled. O Merlin, said Arthur, here
hadst thou been slain for all thy crafts had I not been. Nay,
said Merlin, not so, for I could save myself an I would; and thou
art more near thy death than I am, for thou goest to the
deathward, an God be not thy friend.
So as they went thus talking they came to the fountain, and the
rich pavilion there by it. Then King Arthur was ware where sat a
knight armed in a chair. Sir knight, said Arthur, for what cause
abidest thou here, that there may no knight ride this way but if
he joust with thee? said the king. I rede thee leave that
custom, said Arthur. This custom, said the knight, have I used
and will use maugre who saith nay, and who is grieved with my
custom let him amend it that will. I will amend it, said Arthur.
I shall defend thee, said the knight. Anon he took his horse and
dressed his shield and took a spear, and they met so hard either
in other's shields, that all to-shivered their spears. Therewith
anon Arthur pulled out his sword. Nay, not so, said the knight;
it is fairer, said the knight, that we twain run more together
with sharp spears. I will well, said Arthur, an I had any more
spears. I have enow, said the knight; so there came a squire and
brought two good spears, and Arthur chose one and he another; so
they spurred their horses and came together with all their
mights, that either brake their spears to their hands. Then
Arthur set hand on his sword. Nay, said the knight, ye shall do
better, ye are a passing good jouster as ever I met withal, and
once for the love of the high order of knighthood let us joust
once again. I assent me, said Arthur. Anon there were brought
two great spears, and every knight gat a spear, and therewith
they ran together that Arthur's spear all to-shivered. But the
other knight hit him so hard in midst of the shield, that
horse and man fell to the earth, and therewith Arthur was eager,
and pulled out his sword, and said, I will assay thee, sir
knight, on foot, for I have lost the honour on horseback. I will
be on horseback, said the knight. Then was Arthur wroth, and
dressed his shield toward him with his sword drawn. When the
knight saw that, he alighted, for him thought no worship to have
a knight at such avail, he to be on horseback and he on foot, and
so he alighted and dressed his shield unto Arthur. And there
began a strong battle with many great strokes, and so hewed with
their swords that the cantels flew in the fields, and much blood
they bled both, that all the place there as they fought was
overbled with blood, and thus they fought long and rested them,
and then they went to the battle again, and so hurtled together
like two rams that either fell to the earth. So at the last they
smote together that both their swords met even together. But the
sword of the knight smote King Arthur's sword in two pieces,
wherefore he was heavy. Then said the knight unto Arthur, Thou
art in my daunger whether me list to save thee or slay thee, and
but thou yield thee as overcome and recreant, thou shalt die. As
for death, said King Arthur, welcome be it when it cometh, but to
yield me unto thee as recreant I had liefer die than to be so
shamed. And therewithal the king leapt unto Pellinore, and took
him by the middle and threw him down, and raced off his helm.
When the knight felt that he was adread, for he was a passing big
man of might, and anon he brought Arthur under him, and raced off
his helm and would have smitten off his head.
THEREWITHAL came Merlin and said, Knight, hold thy hand, for an
thou slay that knight thou puttest this realm in the greatest
damage that ever was realm: for this knight is a man of more
worship than thou wotest of. Why, who is he? said the knight.
It is King Arthur. Then would he have slain him for dread of his
wrath, and heaved up his sword, and therewith Merlin cast an
enchantment to the knight, that he fell to the earth in a great
sleep. Then Merlin took up King Arthur, and rode forth on the
knight's horse. Alas! said Arthur, what hast thou done, Merlin?
hast thou slain this good knight by thy crafts? There liveth not
so worshipful a knight as he was; I had liefer than the stint of
my land a year that he were alive. Care ye not, said Merlin, for
he is wholer than ye; for he is but asleep, and will awake within
three hours. I told you, said Merlin, what a knight he was; here
had ye been slain had I not been. Also there liveth not a bigger
knight than he is one, and he shall hereafter do you right good
service; and his name is Pellinore, and he shall have two sons
that shall be passing good men; save one they shall have no
fellow of prowess and of good living, and their names shall be
Percivale of Wales and Lamerake of Wales, and he shall tell you
the name of your own son, begotten of your sister, that shall be
the destruction of all this realm.
RIGHT SO the king and he departed, and went unto an hermit that
was a good man and a great leech. So the hermit searched all his
wounds and gave him good salves; so the king was there three
days, and then were his wounds well amended that he might ride
and go, and so departed. And as they rode, Arthur said, I have
no sword. No force, said Merlin, hereby is a sword that shall be
yours, an I may. So they rode till they came to a lake, the
which was a fair water and broad, and in the midst of the
lake Arthur was ware of an arm clothed in white samite, that held
a fair sword in that hand. Lo! said Merlin, yonder is that sword
that I spake of. With that they saw a damosel going upon the
lake. What damosel is that? said Arthur. That is the Lady of
the Lake, said Merlin; and within that lake is a rock, and
therein is as fair a place as any on earth, and richly beseen;
and this damosel will come to you anon, and then speak ye fair to
her that she will give you that sword. Anon withal came the
damosel unto Arthur, and saluted him, and he her again. Damosel,
said Arthur, what sword is that, that yonder the arm holdeth
above the water? I would it were mine, for I have no sword. Sir
Arthur, king, said the damosel, that sword is mine, and if ye
will give me a gift when I ask it you, ye shall have it. By my
faith, said Arthur, I will give you what gift ye will ask. Well!
said the damosel, go ye into yonder barge, and row yourself to
the sword, and take it and the scabbard with you, and I will ask
my gift when I see my time. So Sir Arthur and Merlin alighted
and tied their horses to two trees, and so they went into the
ship, and when they came to the sword that the hand held, Sir
Arthur took it up by the handles, and took it with him, and the
arm and the hand went under the water. And so [they] came unto
the land and rode forth, and then Sir Arthur saw a rich pavilion.
What signifieth yonder pavilion? It is the knight's pavilion,
said Merlin, that ye fought with last, Sir Pellinore; but he is
out, he is not there. He hath ado with a knight of yours that
hight Egglame, and they have foughten together, but at the last
Egglame fled, and else he had been dead, and he hath chased him
even to Carlion, and we shall meet with him anon in the highway.
That is well said, said Arthur, now have I a sword, now will I
wage battle with him, and be avenged on him. Sir, you shall not
so, said Merlin, for the knight is weary of fighting and chasing,
so that ye shall have no worship to have ado with him; also he
will not be lightly matched of one knight living, and therefore
it is my counsel, let him pass, for he shall do you good service
in short time, and his sons after his days. Also ye shall
see that day in short space, you shall be right glad to give him
your sister to wed. When I see him, I will do as ye advise, said
Arthur.
Then Sir Arthur looked on the sword, and liked it passing well.
Whether liketh you better, said Merlin, the sword or the
scabbard? Me liketh better the sword, said Arthur. Ye are more
unwise, said Merlin, for the scabbard is worth ten of the swords,
for whiles ye have the scabbard upon you, ye shall never lose no
blood, be ye never so sore wounded; therefore keep well the
scabbard always with you. So they rode unto Carlion, and by the
way they met with Sir Pellinore; but Merlin had done such a
craft, that Pellinore saw not Arthur, and he passed by without
any words. I marvel, said Arthur, that the knight would not
speak. Sir, said Merlin, he saw you not, for an he had seen you,
ye had not lightly departed. So they came unto Carlion, whereof
his knights were passing glad. And when they heard of his
adventures, they marvelled that he would jeopard his person so,
alone. But all men of worship said it was merry to be under such
a chieftain, that would put his person in adventure as other poor
knights did.
THIS meanwhile came a messenger from King Rience of North Wales,
and king he was of all Ireland, and of many isles. And this was
his message, greeting well King Arthur in this manner wise,
saying that King Rience had discomfited and overcome eleven
kings, and everych of them did him homage, and that was this,
they gave him their beards clean flayed off, as much as there
was; wherefore the messenger came for King Arthur's beard. For
King Rience had purfled a mantle with kings' beards, and there
lacked one place of the mantle; wherefore he sent for his
beard, or else he would enter into his lands, and burn and slay,
and never leave till he have the head and the beard. Well, said
Arthur, thou hast said thy message, the which is the most
villainous and lewdest message that ever man heard sent unto a
king; also thou mayest see my beard is full young yet to make a
purfle of it. But tell thou thy king this: I owe him none
homage, nor none of mine elders; but or it be long to, he shall
do me homage on both his knees, or else he shall lose his head,
by the faith of my body, for this is the most shamefulest message
that ever I heard speak of. I have espied thy king met never yet
with worshipful man, but tell him, I will have his head without
he do me homage. Then the messenger departed.
Now is there any here, said Arthur, that knoweth King Rience?
Then answered a knight that hight Naram, Sir, I know the king
well; he is a passing good man of his body, as few be living, and
a passing proud man, and Sir, doubt ye not he will make war on
you with a mighty puissance. Well, said Arthur, I shall ordain
for him in short time.
THEN King Arthur let send for all the children born on May-day,
begotten of lords and born of ladies; for Merlin told King Arthur
that he that should destroy him should be born on May-day,
wherefore he sent for them all, upon pain of death; and so there
were found many lords' sons, and all were sent unto the king, and
so was Mordred sent by King Lot's wife, and all were put in a
ship to the sea, and some were four weeks old, and some less.
And so by fortune the ship drave unto a castle, and was all to-
riven, and destroyed the most part, save that Mordred was cast
up, and a good man found him, and nourished him till he was
fourteen year old, and then he brought him to the court, as it
rehearseth afterward, toward the end of the Death of Arthur. So
many lords and barons of this realm were displeased, for their
children were so lost, and many put the wite on Merlin more than
on Arthur; so what for dread and for love, they held their peace.
But when the messenger came to King Rience, then was he wood out
of measure, and purveyed him for a great host, as it rehearseth
after in the book of Balin le Savage, that followeth next after,
how by adventure Balin gat the sword.
AFTER the death of Uther Pendragon reigned Arthur his son, the
which had great war in his days for to get all England into his
hand. For there were many kings within the realm of England, and
in Wales, Scotland, and Cornwall. So it befell on a time when
King Arthur was at London, there came a knight and told the king
tidings how that the King Rience of North Wales had reared a
great number of people, and were entered into the land, and burnt
and slew the king's true liege people. If this be true, said
Arthur, it were great shame unto mine estate but that he were
mightily withstood. It is truth, said the knight, for I saw the
host myself. Well, said the king, let make a cry, that all the
lords, knights, and gentlemen of arms, should draw unto a castle
called Camelot in those days, and there the king would let make a
council-general and a great jousts.
So when the king was come thither with all his baronage, and
lodged as they seemed best, there was come a damosel the which
was sent on message from the great lady Lile of Avelion. And
when she came before King Arthur, she told from whom she came,
and how she was sent on message unto him for these causes. Then
she let her mantle fall that was richly furred; and then was she
girt with a noble sword whereof the king had marvel, and
said, Damosel, for what cause are ye girt with that sword? it
beseemeth you not. Now shall I tell you, said the damosel; this
sword that I am girt withal doth me great sorrow and cumbrance,
for I may not be delivered of this sword but by a knight, but he
must be a passing good man of his hands and of his deeds, and
without villainy or treachery, and without treason. And if I may
find such a knight that hath all these virtues, he may draw out
this sword out of the sheath, for I have been at King Rience's it
was told me there were passing good knights, and he and all his
knights have assayed it and none can speed. This is a great
marvel, said Arthur, if this be sooth; I will myself assay to
draw out the sword, not presuming upon myself that I am the best
knight, but that I will begin to draw at your sword in giving
example to all the barons that they shall assay everych one after
other when I have assayed it. Then Arthur took the sword by the
sheath and by the girdle and pulled at it eagerly, but the sword
would not out.
Sir, said the damosel, you need not to pull half so hard, for he
that shall pull it out shall do it with little might. Ye say
well, said Arthur; now assay ye all my barons; but beware ye be
not defiled with shame, treachery, nor guile. Then it will not
avail, said the damosel, for he must be a clean knight without
villainy, and of a gentle strain of father side and mother side.
Most of all the barons of the Round Table that were there at that
time assayed all by row, but there might none speed; wherefore
the damosel made great sorrow out of measure, and said, Alas! I
weened in this court had been the best knights without treachery
or treason. By my faith, said Arthur, here are good knights, as
I deem, as any be in the world, but their grace is not to help
you, wherefore I am displeased.
THEN fell it so that time there was a poor knight with King
Arthur, that had been prisoner with him half a year and more for
slaying of a knight, the which was cousin unto King Arthur. The
name of this knight was called Balin, and by good means of the
barons he was delivered out of prison, for he was a good man
named of his body, and he was born in Northumberland. And so he
went privily into the court, and saw this adventure, whereof it
raised his heart, and he would assay it as other knights did, but
for he was poor and poorly arrayed he put him not far in press.
But in his heart he was fully assured to do as well, if his grace
happed him, as any knight that there was. And as the damosel
took her leave of Arthur and of all the barons, so departing,
this knight Balin called unto her, and said, Damosel, I pray you
of your courtesy, suffer me as well to assay as these lords;
though that I be so poorly clothed, in my heart meseemeth I am
fully assured as some of these others, and meseemeth in my heart
to speed right well. The damosel beheld the poor knight, and saw
he was a likely man, but for his poor arrayment she thought he
should be of no worship without villainy or treachery. And then
she said unto the knight, Sir, it needeth not to put me to more
pain or labour, for it seemeth not you to speed there as other
have failed. Ah! fair damosel, said Balin, worthiness, and good
tatches, and good deeds, are not only in arrayment, but manhood
and worship is hid within man's person, and many a worshipful
knight is not known unto all people, and therefore worship and
hardiness is not in arrayment. By God, said the damosel, ye say
sooth; therefore ye shall assay to do what ye may. Then Balin
took the sword by the girdle and sheath, and drew it out
easily; and when he looked on the sword it pleased him much.
Then had the king and all the barons great marvel that Balin had
done that adventure, and many knights had great despite of Balin.
Certes, said the damosel, this is a passing good knight, and the
best that ever I found, and most of worship without treason,
treachery, or villainy, and many marvels shall he do. Now,
gentle and courteous knight, give me the sword again. Nay, said
Balin, for this sword will I keep, but it be taken from me with
force. Well, said the damosel, ye are not wise to keep the sword
from me, for ye shall slay with the sword the best friend that ye
have, and the man that ye most love in the world, and the sword
shall be your destruction. I shall take the adventure, said
Balin, that God will ordain me, but the sword ye shall not have
at this time, by the faith of my body. Ye shall repent it within
short time, said the damosel, for I would have the sword more for
your avail than for mine, for I am passing heavy for your sake;
for ye will not believe that sword shall be your destruction, and
that is great pity. With that the damosel departed, making great
sorrow.
Anon after, Balin sent for his horse and armour, and so would
depart from the court, and took his leave of King Arthur. Nay,
said the king, I suppose ye will not depart so lightly from this
fellowship, I suppose ye are displeased that I have shewed you
unkindness; blame me the less, for I was misinformed against you,
but I weened ye had not been such a knight as ye are, of worship
and prowess, and if ye will abide in this court among my
fellowship, I shall so advance you as ye shall be pleased. God
thank your highness, said Balin, your bounty and highness may no
man praise half to the value; but at this time I must needs
depart, beseeching you alway of your good grace. Truly, said the
king, I am right wroth for your departing; I pray you, fair
knight, that ye tarry not long, and ye shall be right welcome to
me, and to my barons, and I shall amend all miss that I have done
against you; God thank your great lordship, said Balin, and
therewith made him ready to depart. Then the most part of
the knights of the Round Table said that Balin did not this
adventure all only by might, but by witchcraft.
THE meanwhile, that this knight was making him ready to depart,
there came into the court a lady that hight the Lady of the Lake.
And she came on horseback, richly beseen, and saluted King
Arthur, and there asked him a gift that he promised her when she
gave him the sword. That is sooth, said Arthur, a gift I
promised you, but I have forgotten the name of my sword that ye
gave me. The name of it, said the lady, is Excalibur, that is as
much to say as Cut-steel. Ye say well, said the king; ask what
ye will and ye shall have it, an it lie in my power to give it.
Well, said the lady, I ask the head of the knight that hath won
the sword, or else the damosel's head that brought it; I take no
force though I have both their heads, for he slew my brother, a
good knight and a true, and that gentlewoman was causer of my
father's death. Truly, said King Arthur, I may not grant neither
of their heads with my worship, therefore ask what ye will else,
and I shall fulfil your desire. I will ask none other thing,
said the lady. When Balin was ready to depart, he saw the Lady
of the Lake, that by her means had slain Balin's mother, and he
had sought her three years; and when it was told him that she
asked his head of King Arthur, he went to her straight and said,
Evil be you found; ye would have my head, and therefore ye shall
lose yours, and with his sword lightly he smote off her head
before King Arthur. Alas, for shame! said Arthur, why have ye
done so? ye have shamed me and all my court, for this was a lady
that I was beholden to, and hither she came under my safe-
conduct; I shall never forgive you that trespass. Sir, said
Balin, me forthinketh of your displeasure, for this same lady was
the untruest lady living, and by enchantment and sorcery she hath
been the destroyer of many good knights, and she was causer that
my mother was burnt, through her falsehood and treachery. What
cause soever ye had, said Arthur, ye should have forborne her in
my presence; therefore, think not the contrary, ye shall repent
it, for such another despite had I never in my court; therefore
withdraw you out of my court in all haste ye may.
Then Balin took up the head of the lady, and bare it with him to
his hostelry, and there he met with his squire, that was sorry he
had displeased King Arthur and so they rode forth out of the
town. Now, said Balin, we must depart, take thou this head and
bear it to my friends, and tell them how I have sped, and tell my
friends in Northumberland that my most foe is dead. Also tell
them how I am out of prison, and what adventure befell me at the
getting of this sword. Alas! said the squire, ye are greatly to
blame for to displease King Arthur. As for that, said Balin, I
will hie me, in all the haste that I may, to meet with King
Rience and destroy him, either else to die therefore; and if it
may hap me to win him, then will King Arthur be my good and
gracious lord. Where shall I meet with you? said the squire. In
King Arthur's court, said Balin. So his squire and he departed
at that time. Then King Arthur and all the court made great dole
and had shame of the death of the Lady of the Lake. Then the
king buried her richly.
AT that time there was a knight, the which was the king's son of
Ireland, and his name was Lanceor, the which was an orgulous
knight, and counted himself one of the best of the court; and
he had great despite at Balin for the achieving of the sword,
that any should be accounted more hardy, or more of prowess; and
he asked King Arthur if he would give him leave to ride after
Balin and to revenge the despite that he had done. Do your best,
said Arthur, I am right wroth with Balin; I would he were quit of
the despite that he hath done to me and to my court. Then this
Lanceor went to his hostelry to make him ready. In the meanwhile
came Merlin unto the court of King Arthur, and there was told him
the adventure of the sword, and the death of the Lady of the
Lake. Now shall I say you, said Merlin; this same damosel that
here standeth, that brought the sword unto your court, I shall
tell you the cause of her coming: she was the falsest damosel
that liveth. Say not so, said they. She hath a brother, a
passing good knight of prowess and a full true man; and this
damosel loved another knight that held her to paramour, and this
good knight her brother met with the knight that held her to
paramour, and slew him by force of his hands. When this false
damosel understood this, she went to the Lady Lile of Avelion,
and besought her of help, to be avenged on her own brother.
AND so this Lady Lile of Avelion took her this sword that she
brought with her, and told there should no man pull it out of the
sheath but if he be one of the best knights of this realm, and he
should be hard and full of prowess, and with that sword he should
slay her brother. This was the cause that the damosel came into
this court. I know it as well as ye. Would God she had not come
into this court, but she came never in fellowship of worship to
do good, but always great harm; and that knight that hath
achieved the sword shall be destroyed by that sword, for the
which will be great damage, for there liveth not a knight of more
prowess than he is, and he shall do unto you, my Lord Arthur,
great honour and kindness; and it is great pity he shall not
endure but a while, for of his strength and hardiness I know not
his match living.
So the knight of Ireland armed him at all points, and dressed his
shield on his shoulder, and mounted upon horseback, and took his
spear in his hand, and rode after a great pace, as much as his
horse might go; and within a little space on a mountain he had a
sight of Balin, and with a loud voice he cried, Abide, knight,
for ye shall abide whether ye will or nill, and the shield that
is to-fore you shall not help. When Balin heard the noise, he
turned his horse fiercely, and said, Fair knight, what will ye
with me, will ye joust with me? Yea, said the Irish knight,
therefore come I after you. Peradventure, said Balin, it had
been better to have holden you at home, for many a man weeneth to
put his enemy to a rebuke, and oft it falleth to himself. Of
what court be ye sent from? said Balin. I am come from the court
of King Arthur, said the knight of Ireland, that come hither for
to revenge the despite ye did this day to King Arthur and to his
court. Well, said Balin, I see well I must have ado with you,
that me forthinketh for to grieve King Arthur, or any of his
court; and your quarrel is full simple, said Balin, unto me, for
the lady that is dead, did me great damage, and else would I have
been loath as any knight that liveth for to slay a lady. Make
you ready, said the knight Lanceor, and dress you unto me, for
that one shall abide in the field. Then they took their spears,
and came together as much as their horses might drive, and the
Irish knight smote Balin on the shield, that all went shivers off
his spear, and Balin hit him through the shield, and the hauberk
perished, and so pierced through his body and the horse's croup,
and anon turned his horse fiercely, and drew out his sword, and
wist not that he had slain him; and then he saw him lie as a dead
corpse.
THEN he looked by him, and was ware of a damosel that came riding
full fast as the horse might ride, on a fair palfrey. And when
she espied that Lanceor was slain, she made sorrow out of
measure, and said, O Balin, two bodies thou hast slain and one
heart, and two hearts in one body, and two souls thou hast lost.
And therewith she took the sword from her love that lay dead, and
fell to the ground in a swoon. And when she arose she made great
dole out of measure, the which sorrow grieved Balin passingly
sore, and he went unto her for to have taken the sword out of her
hand, but she held it so fast he might not take it out of her
hand unless he should have hurt her, and suddenly she set the
pommel to the ground, and rove herself through the body. When
Balin espied her deeds, he was passing heavy in his heart, and
ashamed that so fair a damosel had destroyed herself for the love
of his death. Alas, said Balin, me repenteth sore the death of
this knight, for the love of this damosel, for there was much
true love betwixt them both, and for sorrow might not longer
behold him, but turned his horse and looked toward a great
forest, and there he was ware, by the arms, of his brother Balan.
And when they were met they put off their helms and kissed
together, and wept for joy and pity. Then Balan said, I little
weened to have met with you at this sudden adventure; I am right
glad of your deliverance out of your dolorous prisonment, for a
man told me, in the castle of Four Stones, that ye were
delivered, and that man had seen you in the court of King Arthur,
and therefore I came hither into this country, for here I
supposed to find you. Anon the knight Balin told his brother of
his adventure of the sword, and of the death of the Lady of the
Lake, and how King Arthur was displeased with him. Wherefore
he sent this knight after me, that lieth here dead, and the death
of this damosel grieveth me sore. So doth it me, said Balan, but
ye must take the adventure that God will ordain you. Truly, said
Balin, I am right heavy that my Lord Arthur is displeased with
me, for he is the most worshipful knight that reigneth now on
earth, and his love will I get or else will I put my life in
adventure. For the King Rience lieth at a siege at the Castle
Terrabil, and thither will we draw in all haste, to prove our
worship and prowess upon him. I will well, said Balan, that we
do, and we will help each other as brethren ought to do.
Now go we hence, said Balin, and well be we met. The meanwhile
as they talked, there came a dwarf from the city of Camelot on
horseback, as much as he might; and found the dead bodies,
wherefore he made great dole, and pulled out his hair for sorrow,
and said, Which of you knights have done this deed? Whereby
askest thou it? said Balan. For I would wit it, said the dwarf.
It was I, said Balin, that slew this knight in my defence, for
hither he came to chase me, and either I must slay him or he me;
and this damosel slew herself for his love, which repenteth me,
and for her sake I shall owe all women the better love. Alas,
said the dwarf, thou hast done great damage unto thyself, for
this knight that is here dead was one of the most valiantest men
that lived, and trust well, Balin, the kin of this knight will
chase you through the world till they have slain you. As for
that, said Balin, I fear not greatly, but I am right heavy that I
have displeased my lord King Arthur, for the death of this
knight. So as they talked together, there came a king of
Cornwall riding, the which hight King Mark. And when he saw
these two bodies dead, and understood how they were dead, by the
two knights above said, then made the king great sorrow for the
true love that was betwixt them, and said, I will not depart till
I have on this earth made a tomb, and there he pight his
pavilions and sought through all the country to find a tomb, and
in a church they found one was fair and rich, and then the king
let put them both in the earth, and put the tomb upon them, and
wrote the names of them both on the tomb. How here lieth Lanceor
the king's son of Ireland, that at his own request was slain by
the hands of Balin; and how his lady, Colombe, and paramour, slew
herself with her love's sword for dole and sorrow.
THE meanwhile as this was a-doing, in came Merlin to King Mark,
and seeing all his doing, said, Here shall be in this same place
the greatest battle betwixt two knights that was or ever shall
be, and the truest lovers, and yet none of them shall slay other.
And there Merlin wrote their names upon the tomb with letters of
gold that should fight in that place, whose names were Launcelot
de Lake, and Tristram. Thou art a marvellous man, said King Mark
unto Merlin, that speakest of such marvels, thou art a boistous
man and an unlikely to tell of such deeds. What is thy name?
said King Mark. At this time, said Merlin, I will not tell, but
at that time when Sir Tristram is taken with his sovereign lady,
then ye shall hear and know my name, and at that time ye shall
hear tidings that shall not please you. Then said Merlin to
Balin, Thou hast done thyself great hurt, because that thou
savest not this lady that slew herself, that might have saved her
an thou wouldest. By the faith of my body, said Balin, I might
not save her, for she slew herself suddenly. Me repenteth, said
Merlin; because of the death of that lady thou shalt strike a
stroke most dolorous that ever man struck, except the stroke of
our Lord, for thou shalt hurt the truest knight and the man of
most worship that now liveth, and through that stroke three
kingdoms shall be in great poverty, misery and wretchedness
twelve years, and the knight shall not be whole of that wound for
many years. Then Merlin took his leave of Balin. And Balin
said, If I wist it were sooth that ye say I should do such a
perilous deed as that, I would slay myself to make thee a liar.
Therewith Merlin vanished away suddenly. And then Balan and his
brother took their leave of King Mark. First, said the king,
tell me your name. Sir, said Balan, ye may see he beareth two
swords, thereby ye may call him the Knight with the Two Swords.
And so departed King Mark unto Camelot to King Arthur, and Balin
took the way toward King Rience; and as they rode together they
met with Merlin disguised, but they knew him not. Whither ride
you? said Merlin. We have little to do, said the two knights, to
tell thee. But what is thy name? said Balin. At this time, said
Merlin, I will not tell it thee. It is evil seen, said the
knights, that thou art a true man that thou wilt not tell thy
name. As for that, said Merlin, be it as it be may, I can tell
you wherefore ye ride this way, for to meet King Rience; but it
will not avail you without ye have my counsel. Ah! said Balin,
ye are Merlin; we will be ruled by your counsel. Come on, said
Merlin, ye shall have great worship, and look that ye do
knightly, for ye shall have great need. As for that, said Balin,
dread you not, we will do what we may.
THEN Merlin lodged them in a wood among leaves beside the
highway, and took off the bridles of their horses and put them to
grass and laid them down to rest them till it was nigh midnight.
Then Merlin bade them rise, and make them ready, for the king was
nigh them, that was stolen away from his host with a three score
horses of his best knights, and twenty of them rode to-fore to
warn the Lady de Vance that the king was coming; for that night
King Rience should have lain with her. Which is the king? said
Balin. Abide, said Merlin, here in a strait way ye shall meet
with him; and therewith he showed Balin and his brother where he
rode.
Anon Balin and his brother met with the king, and smote him down,
and wounded him fiercely, and laid him to the ground; and there
they slew on the right hand and the left hand, and slew more than
forty of his men, and the remnant fled. Then went they again to
King Rience and would have slain him had he not yielded him unto
their grace. Then said he thus: Knights full of prowess, slay
me not, for by my life ye may win, and by my death ye shall win
nothing. Then said these two knights, Ye say sooth and truth,
and so laid him on a horse-litter. With that Merlin was
vanished, and came to King Arthur aforehand, and told him how his
most enemy was taken and discomfited. By whom? said King Arthur.
By two knights, said Merlin, that would please your lordship, and
to-morrow ye shall know what knights they are. Anon after came
the Knight with the Two Swords and Balan his brother, and brought
with them King Rience of North Wales, and there delivered him to
the porters, and charged them with him; and so they two returned
again in the dawning of the day. King Arthur came then to
King Rience, and said, Sir king, ye are welcome: by what
adventure come ye hither? Sir, said King Rience, I came hither
by an hard adventure. Who won you? said King Arthur. Sir, said
the king, the Knight with the Two Swords and his brother, which
are two marvellous knights of prowess. I know them not, said
Arthur, but much I am beholden to them. Ah, said Merlin, I shall
tell you: it is Balin that achieved the sword, and his brother
Balan, a good knight, there liveth not a better of prowess and of
worthiness, and it shall be the greatest dole of him that ever I
knew of knight, for he shall not long endure. Alas, said King
Arthur, that is great pity; for I am much beholden unto him, and
I have ill deserved it unto him for his kindness. Nay, said
Merlin, he shall do much more for you, and that shall ye know in
haste. But, sir, are ye purveyed, said Merlin, for to-morn the
host of Nero, King Rience's brother, will set on you or noon with
a great host, and therefore make you ready, for I will depart
from you.
THEN King Arthur made ready his host in ten battles and Nero was
ready in the field afore the Castle Terrabil with a great host,
and he had ten battles, with many more people than Arthur had.
Then Nero had the vanguard with the most part of his people, and
Merlin came to King Lot of the Isle of Orkney, and held him with
a tale of prophecy, till Nero and his people were destroyed. And
there Sir Kay the seneschal did passingly well, that the days of
his life the worship went never from him; and Sir Hervis de Revel
did marvellous deeds with King Arthur, and King Arthur slew that
day twenty knights and maimed forty. At that time came in
the Knight with the Two Swords and his brother Balan, but they
two did so marvellously that the king and all the knights
marvelled of them, and all they that beheld them said they were
sent from heaven as angels, or devils from hell; and King Arthur
said himself they were the best knights that ever he saw, for
they gave such strokes that all men had wonder of them.
In the meanwhile came one to King Lot, and told him while he
tarried there Nero was destroyed and slain with all his people.
Alas, said King Lot, I am ashamed, for by my default there is
many a worshipful man slain, for an we had been together there
had been none host under the heaven that had been able for to
have matched with us; this faiter with his prophecy hath mocked
me. All that did Merlin, for he knew well that an King Lot had
been with his body there at the first battle, King Arthur had
been slain, and all his people destroyed; and well Merlin knew
that one of the kings should be dead that day, and loath was
Merlin that any of them both should be slain; but of the twain,
he had liefer King Lot had been slain than King Arthur. Now what
is best to do? said King Lot of Orkney; whether is me better to
treat with King Arthur or to fight, for the greater part of our
people are slain and destroyed? Sir, said a knight, set on
Arthur for they are weary and forfoughten and we be fresh. As
for me, said King Lot, I would every knight would do his part as
I would do mine. And then they advanced banners and smote
together and all to-shivered their spears; and Arthur's knights,
with the help of the Knight with the Two Swords and his brother
Balan put King Lot and his host to the worse. But always King
Lot held him in the foremost front, and did marvellous deeds of
arms, for all his host was borne up by his hands, for he abode
all knights. Alas he might not endure, the which was great pity,
that so worthy a knight as he was one should be overmatched, that
of late time afore had been a knight of King Arthur's, and wedded
the sister of King Arthur; and for King Arthur lay by King Lot's
wife, the which was Arthur's sister, and gat on her Mordred,
therefore King Lot held against Arthur. So there was a knight
that was called the Knight with the Strange Beast, and at that
time his right name was called Pellinore, the which was a good
man of prowess, and he smote a mighty stroke at King Lot as he
fought with all his enemies, and he failed of his stroke, and
smote the horse's neck, that he fell to the ground with King Lot.
And therewith anon Pellinore smote him a great stroke through the
helm and head unto the brows. And then all the host of Orkney
fled for the death of King Lot, and there were slain many
mothers' sons. But King Pellinore bare the wite of the death of
King Lot, wherefore Sir Gawaine revenged the death of his father
the tenth year after he was made knight, and slew King Pellinore
with his own hands. Also there were slain at that battle twelve
kings on the side of King Lot with Nero, and all were buried in
the Church of Saint Stephen's in Camelot, and the remnant of
knights and of others were buried in a great rock.
SO at the interment came King Lot's wife Margawse with her four
sons, Gawaine, Agravaine, Gaheris, and Gareth. Also there came
thither King Uriens, Sir Ewaine's father, and Morgan le Fay his
wife that was King Arthur's sister. All these came to the
interment. But of all these twelve kings King Arthur let make
the tomb of King Lot passing richly, and made his tomb by his
own; and then Arthur let make twelve images of latten and copper,
and over-gilt it with gold, in the sign of twelve kings, and each
one of them held a taper of wax that burnt day and night; and
King Arthur was made in sign of a figure standing above them with
a sword drawn in his hand, and all the twelve figures had
countenance like unto men that were overcome. All this made
Merlin by his subtle craft, and there he told the king, When I am
dead these tapers shall burn no longer, and soon after the
adventures of the Sangreal shall come among you and be achieved.
Also he told Arthur how Balin the worshipful knight shall give
the dolorous stroke, whereof shall fall great vengeance. Oh,
where is Balin and Balan and Pellinore? said King Arthur. As for
Pellinore, said Merlin, he will meet with you soon; and as for
Balin he will not be long from you; but the other brother will
depart, ye shall see him no more. By my faith, said Arthur, they
are two marvellous knights, and namely Balin passeth of prowess
of any knight that ever I found, for much beholden am I unto him;
would God he would abide with me. Sir, said Merlin, look ye keep
well the scabbard of Excalibur, for ye shall lose no blood while
ye have the scabbard upon you, though ye have as many wounds upon
you as ye may have. So after, for great trust, Arthur betook the
scabbard to Morgan le Fay his sister, and she loved another
knight better than her husband King Uriens or King Arthur, and
she would have had Arthur her brother slain, and therefore she
let make another scabbard like it by enchantment, and gave the
scabbard Excalibur to her love; and the knight's name was called
Accolon, that after had near slain King Arthur. After this
Merlin told unto King Arthur of the prophecy that there should be
a great battle beside Salisbury, and Mordred his own son should
be against him. Also he told him that Bagdemegus was his cousin,
and germain unto King Uriens.
WITHIN a day or two King Arthur was somewhat sick, and he let
pitch his pavilion in a meadow, and there he laid him down on
a pallet to sleep, but he might have no rest. Right so he heard
a great noise of an horse, and therewith the king looked out at
the porch of the pavilion, and saw a knight coming even by him,
making great dole. Abide, fair sir, said Arthur, and tell me
wherefore thou makest this sorrow. Ye may little amend me, said
the knight, and so passed forth to the castle of Meliot. Anon
after there came Balin, and when he saw King Arthur he alighted
off his horse, and came to the King on foot, and saluted him. By
my head, said Arthur, ye be welcome. Sir, right now came riding
this way a knight making great mourn, for what cause I cannot
tell; wherefore I would desire of you of your courtesy and of
your. gentleness to fetch again that knight either by force or
else by his good will. I will do more for your lordship than
that, said Balin; and so he rode more than a pace, and found the
knight with a damosel in a forest, and said, Sir knight, ye must
come with me unto King Arthur, for to tell him of your sorrow.
That will I not, said the knight, for it will scathe me greatly,
and do you none avail. Sir, said Balin, I pray you make you
ready, for ye must go with me, or else I must fight with you and
bring you by force, and that were me loath to do. Will ye be my
warrant, said the knight, an I go with you? Yea, said Balin, or
else I will die therefore. And so he made him ready to go with
Balin, and left the damosel still. And as they were even afore
King Arthur's pavilion, there came one invisible, and smote this
knight that went with Balin throughout the body with a spear.
Alas, said the knight, I am slain under your conduct with a
knight called Garlon; therefore take my horse that is better than
yours, and ride to the damosel, and follow the quest that I was
in as she will lead you, and revenge my death when ye may. That
shall I do, said Balin, and that I make vow unto knighthood; and
so he departed from this knight with great sorrow. So King
Arthur let bury this knight richly, and made a mention on his
tomb, how there was slain Herlews le Berbeus, and by whom the
treachery was done, the knight Garlon. But ever the damosel
bare the truncheon of the spear with her that Sir Herlews was
slain withal.
So Balin and the damosel rode into a forest, and there met with a
knight that had been a-hunting, and that knight asked Balin for
what cause he made so great sorrow. Me list not to tell you,
said Balin. Now, said the knight, an I were armed as ye be I
would fight with you. That should little need, said Balin, I am
not afeard to tell you, and told him all the cause how it was.
Ah, said the knight, is this all? here I ensure you by the faith
of my body never to depart from you while my life lasteth. And
so they went to the hostelry and armed them, and so rode forth
with Balin. And as they came by an hermitage even by a
churchyard, there came the knight Garlon invisible, and smote
this knight, Perin de Mountbeliard, through the body with a
spear. Alas, said the knight, I am slain by this traitor knight
that rideth invisible. Alas, said Balin, it is not the first
despite he hath done me; and there the hermit and Balin buried
the knight under a rich stone and a tomb royal. And on the morn
they found letters of gold written, how Sir Gawaine shall revenge
his father's death, King Lot, on the King Pellinore. Anon after
this Balin and the damosel rode till they came to a castle, and
there Balin alighted, and he and the damosel went to go into the
castle, and anon as Balin came within the castle's gate the
portcullis fell down at his back, and there fell many men about
the damosel, and would have slain her. When Balin saw that, he
was sore aggrieved, for he might not help the damosel. Then he
went up into the tower, and leapt over walls into the ditch, and
hurt him not; and anon he pulled out his sword and would have
foughten with them. And they all said nay, they would not fight
with him, for they did nothing but the old custom of the castle;
and told him how their lady was sick, and had lain many years,
and she might not be whole but if she had a dish of silver full
of blood of a clean maid and a king's daughter; and therefore the
custom of this castle is, there shall no damosel pass this way
but she shall bleed of her blood in a silver dish full. Well,
said Balin, she shall bleed as much as she may bleed, but I will
not lose the life of her whiles my life lasteth. And so Balin
made her to bleed by her good will, but her blood helped not the
lady. And so he and she rested there all night, and had there
right good cheer, and on the morn they passed on their ways. And
as it telleth after in the Sangreal, that Sir Percivale's sister
helped that lady with her blood, whereof she was dead.
THEN they rode three or four days and never met with adventure,
and by hap they were lodged with a gentle man that was a rich man
and well at ease. And as they sat at their supper Balin
overheard one complain grievously by him in a chair. What is
this noise? said Balin. Forsooth, said his host, I will tell
you. I was but late at a jousting, and there I jousted with a
knight that is brother unto King Pellam, and twice smote I him
down, and then he promised to quit me on my best friend; and so
he wounded my son, that cannot be whole till I have of that
knight's blood, and he rideth alway invisible; but I know not his
name. Ah! said Balin, I know that knight, his name is Garlon, he
hath slain two knights of mine in the same manner, therefore I
had liefer meet with that knight than all the gold in this
realm, for the despite he hath done me. Well, said his host, I
shall tell you, King Pellam of Listeneise hath made do cry in all
this country a great feast that shall be within these twenty
days, and no knight may come there but if he bring his wife with
him, or his paramour; and that knight, your enemy and mine, ye
shall see that day. Then I behote you, said Balin, part of his
blood to heal your son withal. We will be forward to-morn, said
his host. So on the morn they rode all three toward Pellam, and
they had fifteen days' journey or they came thither; and that
same day began the great feast. And so they alighted and stabled
their horses, and went into the castle; but Balin's host might
not be let in because he had no lady. Then Balin was well
received and brought unto a chamber and unarmed him; and there
were brought him robes to his pleasure, and would have had Balin
leave his sword behind him. Nay, said Balin, that do I not, for
it is the custom of my country a knight always to keep his weapon
with him, and that custom will I keep, or else I will depart as I
came. Then they gave him leave to wear his sword, and so he went
unto the castle, and was set among knights of worship, and his
lady afore him.
Soon Balin asked a knight, Is there not a knight in this court
whose name is Garlon? Yonder he goeth, said a knight, he with
the black face; he is the marvellest knight that is now living,
for he destroyeth many good knights, for he goeth invisible. Ah
well, said Balin, is that he? Then Balin advised him long: If I
slay him here I shall not escape, and if I leave him now,
peradventure I shall never meet with him again at such a steven,
and much harm he will do an he live. Therewith this Garlon
espied that this Balin beheld him, and then he came and smote
Balin on the face with the back of his hand, and said, Knight,
why beholdest me so? for shame therefore, eat thy meat and do
that thou came for. Thou sayest sooth, said Balin, this is not
the first despite that thou hast done me, and therefore I will do
what I came for, and rose up fiercely and clave his head to the
shoulders. Give me the truncheon, said Balin to his lady,
wherewith he slew your knight. Anon she gave it him, for alway
she bare the truncheon with her. And therewith Balin smote him
through the body, and said openly, With that truncheon thou hast
slain a good knight, and now it sticketh in thy body. And then
Balin called unto him his host, saying, Now may ye fetch blood
enough to heal your son withal.
ANON all the knights arose from the table for to set on Balin,
and King Pellam himself arose up fiercely, and said, Knight, hast
thou slain my brother? thou shalt die therefore or thou depart.
Well, said Balin, do it yourself. Yes, said King Pellam, there
shall no man have ado with thee but myself, for the love of my
brother. Then King Pellam caught in his hand a grim weapon and
smote eagerly at Balin; but Balin put the sword betwixt his head
and the stroke, and therewith his sword burst in sunder. And
when Balin was weaponless he ran into a chamber for to seek some
weapon, and so from chamber to chamber, and no weapon he could
find, and always King Pellam after him. And at the last he
entered into a chamber that was marvellously well dight and
richly, and a bed arrayed with cloth of gold, the richest that
might be thought, and one lying therein, and thereby stood a
table of clean gold with four pillars of silver that bare up the
table, and upon the table stood a marvellous spear strangely
wrought. And when Balin saw that spear, he gat it in his hand
and turned him to King Pellam, and smote him passingly sore with
that spear, that King Pellam fell down in a swoon, and therewith
the castle roof and walls brake and fell to the earth, and Balin
fell down so that he might not stir foot nor hand. And so
the most part of the castle, that was fallen down through that
dolorous stroke, lay upon Pellam and Balin three days.
THEN Merlin came thither and took up Balin, and gat him a good
horse, for his was dead, and bade him ride out of that country.
I would have my damosel, said Balin. Lo, said Merlin, where she
lieth dead. And King Pellam lay so, many years sore wounded, and
might never be whole till Galahad the haut prince healed him in
the quest of the Sangreal, for in that place was part of the
blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, that Joseph of Arimathea brought
into this land, and there himself lay in that rich bed. And that
was the same spear that Longius smote our Lord to the heart; and
King Pellam was nigh of Joseph's kin, and that was the most
worshipful man that lived in those days, and great pity it was of
his hurt, for through that stroke, turned to great dole, tray and
tene. Then departed Balin from Merlin, and said, In this world
we meet never no more. So he rode forth through the fair
countries and cities, and found the people dead, slain on every
side. And all that were alive cried, O Balin, thou hast caused
great damage in these countries; for the dolorous stroke thou
gavest unto King Pellam three countries are destroyed, and doubt
not but the vengeance will fall on thee at the last. When Balin
was past those countries he was passing fain.
So he rode eight days or he met with adventure. And at the last
he came into a fair forest in a valley, and was ware of a tower,
and there beside he saw a great horse of war, tied to a tree, and
there beside sat a fair knight on the ground and made great
mourning, and he was a likely man, and a well made. Balin
said, God save you, why be ye so heavy? tell me and I will amend
it, an I may, to my power. Sir knight, said he again, thou dost
me great grief, for I was in merry thoughts, and now thou puttest
me to more pain. Balin went a little from him, and looked on his
horse; then heard Balin him say thus: Ah, fair lady, why have ye
broken my promise, for thou promisest me to meet me here by noon,
and I may curse thee that ever ye gave me this sword, for with
this sword I slay myself, and pulled it out. And therewith Balin
stert unto him and took him by the hand. Let go my hand, said
the knight, or else I shall slay thee. That shall not need, said
Balin, for I shall promise you my help to get you your lady, an
ye will tell me where she is. What is your name? said the
knight. My name is Balin le Savage. Ah, sir, I know you well
enough, ye are the Knight with the Two Swords, and the man of
most prowess of your hands living. What is your name? said
Balin. My name is Garnish of the Mount, a poor man's son, but by
my prowess and hardiness a duke hath made me knight, and gave me
lands; his name is Duke Hermel, and his daughter is she that I
love, and she me as I deemed. How far is she hence? said Balin.
But six mile, said the knight. Now ride we hence, said these two
knights. So they rode more than a pace, till that they came to a
fair castle well walled and ditched. I will into the castle,
said Balin, and look if she be there. So he went in and searched
from chamber to chamber, and found her bed, but she was not
there. Then Balin looked into a fair little garden, and under a
laurel tree he saw her lie upon a quilt of green samite and a
knight in her arms, fast halsing either other, and under their
heads grass and herbs. When Balin saw her lie so with the
foulest knight that ever he saw, and she a fair lady, then Balin
went through all the chambers again, and told the knight how he
found her as she had slept fast, and so brought him in the place
there she lay fast sleeping.
AND when Garnish beheld her so lying, for pure sorrow his mouth
and nose burst out a-bleeding, and with his sword he smote off
both their heads, and then he made sorrow out of measure, and
said, O Balin, much sorrow hast thou brought unto me, for hadst
thou not shewed me that sight I should have passed my sorrow.
Forsooth, said Balin, I did it to this intent that it should
better thy courage, and that ye might see and know her falsehood,
and to cause you to leave love of such a lady; God knoweth I did
none other but as I would ye did to me. Alas, said Garnish, now
is my sorrow double that I may not endure, now have I slain that
I most loved in all my life; and therewith suddenly he rove
himself on his own sword unto the hilts. When Balin saw that, he
dressed him thenceward, lest folk would say he had slain them;
and so he rode forth, and within three days he came by a cross,
and thereon were letters of gold written, that said, It is not
for no knight alone to ride toward this castle. Then saw he an
old hoar gentleman coming toward him, that said, Balin le Savage,
thou passest thy bounds to come this way, therefore turn again
and it will avail thee. And he vanished away anon; and so he
heard an horn blow as it had been the death of a beast. That
blast, said Balin, is blown for me, for I am the prize and yet am
I not dead. Anon withal he saw an hundred ladies and many
knights, that welcomed him with fair semblant, and made him
passing good cheer unto his sight, and led him into the castle,
and there was dancing and minstrelsy and all manner of joy. Then
the chief lady of the castle said, Knight with the Two Swords, ye
must have ado and joust with a knight hereby that keepeth an
island, for there may no man pass this way but he must joust or
he pass. That is an unhappy custom, said Balin, that a knight
may not pass this way but if he joust. Ye shall not have ado but
with one knight, said the lady.
Well, said Balin, since I shall thereto I am ready, but
travelling men are oft weary and their horses too, but though my
horse be weary my heart is not weary, I would be fain there my
death should be. Sir, said a knight to Balin, methinketh your
shield is not good, I will lend you a bigger. Thereof I pray
you. And so he took the shield that was unknown and left his
own, and so rode unto the island, and put him and his horse in a
great boat; and when he came on the other side he met with a
damosel, and she said, O knight Balin, why have ye left your own
shield? alas ye have put yourself in great danger, for by your
shield ye should have been known; it is great pity of you as ever
was of knight, for of thy prowess and hardiness thou hast no
fellow living. Me repenteth, said Balin, that ever I came within
this country, but I may not turn now again for shame, and what
adventure shall fall to me, be it life or death, I will take the
adventure that shall come to me. And then he looked on his
armour, and understood he was well armed, and therewith blessed
him and mounted upon his horse.
THEN afore him he saw come riding out of a castle a knight, and
his horse trapped all red, and himself in the same colour. When
this knight in the red beheld Balin, him thought it should be his
brother Balin by cause of his two swords, but by cause he
knew not his shield he deemed it was not he. And so they
aventryd their spears and came marvellously fast together, and
they smote each other in the shields, but their spears and their
course were so big that it bare down horse and man, that they lay
both in a swoon. But Balin was bruised sore with the fall of his
horse, for he was weary of travel. And Balan was the first that
rose on foot and drew his sword, and went toward Balin, and he
arose and went against him; but Balan smote Balin first, and he
put up his shield and smote him through the shield and tamed his
helm. Then Balin smote him again with that unhappy sword, and
well-nigh had felled his brother Balan, and so they fought there
together till their breaths failed. Then Balin looked up to the
castle and saw the towers stand full of ladies. So they went
unto battle again, and wounded everych other dolefully, and then
they breathed ofttimes, and so went unto battle that all the
place there as they fought was blood red. And at that time there
was none of them both but they had either smitten other seven
great wounds, so that the least of them might have been the death
of the mightiest giant in this world.
Then they went to battle again so marvellously that doubt it was
to hear of that battle for the great blood-shedding, and their
hauberks unnailed that naked they were on every side. At last
Balan the younger brother withdrew him a little and laid him
down. Then said Balin le Savage, What knight art thou? for or
now I found never no knight that matched me. My name is, said
he, Balan, brother unto the good knight, Balin. Alas, said
Balin, that ever I should see this day, and therewith he fell
backward in a swoon. Then Balan yede on all four feet and hands,
and put off the helm off his brother, and might not know him by
the visage it was so ful hewn and bled; but when he awoke he
said, O Balan, my brother, thou hast slain me and I thee,
wherefore all the wide world shall speak of us both. Alas, said
Balan, that ever I saw this day, that through mishap I might not
know you, for I espied well your two swords, but by cause ye
had another shield I deemed ye had been another knight. Alas,
said Balin, all that made an unhappy knight in the castle, for he
caused me to leave my own shield to our both's destruction, and
if I might live I would destroy that castle for ill customs.
That were well done, said Balan, for I had never grace to depart
from them since that I came hither, for here it happed me to slay
a knight that kept this island, and since might I never depart,
and no more should ye, brother, an ye might have slain me as ye
have, and escaped yourself with the life.
Right so came the lady of the tower with four knights and six
ladies and six yeomen unto them, and there she heard how they
made their moan either to other, and said, We came both out of
one tomb, that is to say one mother's belly, and so shall we lie
both in one pit. So Balan prayed the lady of her gentleness, for
his true service, that she would bury them both in that same
place there the battle was done. And she granted them, with
weeping, it should be done richly in the best manner. Now, will
ye send for a priest, that we may receive our sacrament, and
receive the blessed body of our Lord Jesus Christ? Yea, said the
lady, it shall be done; and so she sent for a priest and gave
them their rights. Now, said Balin, when we are buried in one
tomb, and the mention made over us how two brethren slew each
other, there will never good knight, nor good man, see our tomb
but they will pray for our souls. And so all the ladies and
gentlewomen wept for pity. Then anon Balan died, but Balin died
not till the midnight after, and so were they buried both, and
the lady let make a mention of Balan how he was there slain by
his brother's hands, but she knew not Balin's name.
IN the morn came Merlin and let write Balin's name on the tomb
with letters of gold, that Here lieth Balin le Savage that was
the Knight with the Two Swords, and he that smote the Dolorous
Stroke. Also Merlin let make there a bed, that there should
never man lie therein but he went out of his wit, yet Launcelot
de Lake fordid that bed through his noblesse. And anon after
Balin was dead, Merlin took his sword, and took off the pommel
and set on another pommel. So Merlin bade a knight that stood
afore him handle that sword, and he assayed, and he might not
handle it. Then Merlin laughed. Why laugh ye? said the knight.
This is the cause, said Merlin: there shall never man handle this
sword but the best knight of the world, and that shall be Sir
Launcelot or else Galahad his son, and Launcelot with this sword
shall slay the man that in the world he loved best, that shall be
Sir Gawaine. All this he let write in the pommel of the sword.
Then Merlin let make a bridge of iron and of steel into that
island, and it was but half a foot broad, and there shall never
man pass that bridge, nor have hardiness to go over, but if he
were a passing good man and a good knight without treachery or
villainy. Also the scabbard of Balin's sword Merlin left it on
this side the island, that Galahad should find it. Also Merlin
let make by his subtilty that Balin's sword was put in a marble
stone standing upright as great as a mill stone, and the stone
hoved always above the water and did many years, and so by
adventure it swam down the stream to the City of Camelot, that is
in English Winchester. And that same day Galahad the haut prince
came with King Arthur, and so Galahad brought with him the
scabbard and achieved the sword that was there in the marble
stone hoving upon the water. And on Whitsunday he achieved
the sword as it is rehearsed in the book of Sangreal.
Soon after this was done Merlin came to King Arthur and told him
of the dolorous stroke that Balin gave to King Pellam, and how
Balin and Balan fought together the marvellest battle that ever
was heard of, and how they were buried both in one tomb. Alas,
said King Arthur, this is the greatest pity that ever I heard
tell of two knights, for in the world I know not such two
knights. Thus endeth the tale of Balin and of Balan, two
brethren born in Northumberland, good knights.
IN the beginning of Arthur, after he was chosen king by adventure
and by grace; for the most part of the barons knew not that he
was Uther Pendragon's son, but as Merlin made it openly known.
But yet many kings and lords held great war against him for that
cause, but well Arthur overcame them all, for the most part the
days of his life he was ruled much by the counsel of Merlin. So
it fell on a time King Arthur said unto Merlin, My barons will
let me have no rest, but needs I must take a wife, and I will
none take but by thy counsel and by thine advice. It is well
done, said Merlin, that ye take a wife, for a man of your bounty
and noblesse should not be without a wife. Now is there any that
ye love more than another? Yea, said King Arthur, I love
Guenever the king's daughter, Leodegrance of the land of
Cameliard, the which holdeth in his house the Table Round that ye
told he had of my father Uther. And this damosel is the most
valiant and fairest lady that I know living, or yet that ever I
could find. Sir, said Merlin, as of her beauty and fairness she
is one of the fairest alive, but, an ye loved her not so well as
ye do, I should find you a damosel of beauty and of goodness that
should like you and please you, an your heart were not set; but
there as a man's heart is set, he will be loath to return.
That is truth, said King Arthur. But Merlin warned the king
covertly that Guenever was not wholesome for him to take to wife,
for he warned him that Launcelot should love her, and she him
again; and so he turned his tale to the adventures of Sangreal.
Then Merlin desired of the king for to have men with him that
should enquire of Guenever, and so the king granted him, and
Merlin went forth unto King Leodegrance of Cameliard, and told
him of the desires of the king that he would have unto his wife
Guenever his daughter. That is to me, said King Leodegrance, the
best tidings that ever I heard, that so worthy a king of prowess
and noblesse will wed my daughter. And as for my lands, I will
give him, wist I it might please him, but he hath lands enow, him
needeth none; but I shall send him a gift shall please him much
more, for I shall give him the Table Round, the which Uther
Pendragon gave me, and when it is full complete, there is an
hundred knights and fifty. And as for an hundred good knights I
have myself, but I faute fifty, for so many have been slain in my
days. And so Leodegrance delivered his daughter Guenever unto
Merlin, and the Table Round with the hundred knights, and so they
rode freshly, with great royalty, what by water and what by land,
till that they came nigh unto London.
WHEN King Arthur heard of the coming of Guenever and the hundred
knights with the Table Round, then King Arthur made great joy for
her coming, and that rich present, and said openly, This fair
lady is passing welcome unto me, for I have loved her long, and
therefore there is nothing so lief to me. And these knights with
the Round Table please me more than right great riches. And in
all haste the king let ordain for the marriage and the
coronation in the most honourable wise that could be devised.
Now, Merlin, said King Arthur, go thou and espy me in all this
land fifty knights which be of most prowess and worship. Within
short time Merlin had found such knights that should fulfil
twenty and eight knights, but no more he could find. Then the
Bishop of Canterbury was fetched, and he blessed the sieges with
great royalty and devotion, and there set the eight and twenty
knights in their sieges. And when this was done Merlin said,
Fair sirs, ye must all arise and come to King Arthur for to do
him homage; he will have the better will to maintain you. And so
they arose and did their homage, and when they were gone Merlin
found in every sieges letters of gold that told the knights'
names that had sitten therein. But two sieges were void. And so
anon came young Gawaine and asked the king a gift. Ask, said the
king, and I shall grant it you. Sir, I ask that ye will make me
knight that same day ye shall wed fair Guenever. I will do it
with a good will, said King Arthur, and do unto you all the
worship that I may, for I must by reason ye are my nephew, my
sister's son.
FORTHWITHAL there came a poor man into the court, and brought
with him a fair young man of eighteen years of age riding upon a
lean mare; and the poor man asked all men that he met, Where
shall I find King Arthur? Yonder he is, said the knights, wilt
thou anything with him? Yea, said the poor man, therefore I came
hither. Anon as he came before the king, he saluted him and
said: O King Arthur, the flower of all knights and kings, I
beseech Jesu save thee. Sir, it was told me that at this time of
your marriage ye would give any man the gift that he would
ask, out except that were unreasonable. That is truth, said the
king, such cries I let make, and that will I hold, so it apair
not my realm nor mine estate. Ye say well and graciously, said
the poor man; Sir, I ask nothing else but that ye will make my
son here a knight. It is a great thing thou askest of me, said
the king. What is thy name? said the king to the poor man. Sir,
my name is Aries the cowherd. Whether cometh this of thee or of
thy son? said the king. Nay, sir, said Aries, this desire cometh
of my son and not of me, for I shall tell you I have thirteen
sons, and all they will fall to what labour I put them, and will
be right glad to do labour, but this child will not labour for
me, for anything that my wife or I may do, but always he will be
shooting or casting darts, and glad for to see battles and to
behold knights, and always day and night he desireth of me to be
made a knight. What is thy name? said the king unto the young
man. Sir, my name is Tor. The king beheld him fast, and saw he
was passingly well-visaged and passingly well made of his years.
Well, said King Arthur unto Aries the cowherd, fetch all thy sons
afore me that I may see them. And so the poor man did, and all
were shaped much like the poor man. But Tor was not like none of
them all in shape nor in countenance, for he was much more than
any of them. Now, said King Arthur unto the cow herd, where is
the sword he shall be made knight withal? It is here, said Tor.
Take it out of the sheath, said the king, and require me to make
you a knight.
Then Tor alighted off his mare and pulled out his sword,
kneeling, and requiring the king that he would make him knight,
and that he might be a knight of the Table Round. As for a
knight I will make you, and therewith smote him in the neck with
the sword, saying, Be ye a good knight, and so I pray to God so
ye may be, and if ye be of prowess and of worthiness ye shall be
a knight of the Table Round. Now Merlin, said Arthur, say
whether this Tor shall be a good knight or no. Yea, sir, he
ought to be a good knight, for he is come of as good a man as any
is alive, and of kings' blood. How so, sir? said the king.
I shall tell you, said Merlin: This poor man, Aries the cowherd,
is not his father; he is nothing sib to him, for King Pellinore
is his father. I suppose nay, said the cowherd. Fetch thy wife
afore me, said Merlin, and she shall not say nay. Anon the wife
was fetched, which was a fair housewife, and there she answered
Merlin full womanly, and there she told the king and Merlin that
when she was a maid, and went to milk kine, there met with her a
stern knight, and half by force he had my maidenhead, and at that
time he begat my son Tor, and he took away from me my greyhound
that I had that time with me, and said that he would keep the
greyhound for my love. Ah, said the cowherd, I weened not this,
but I may believe it well, for he had never no tatches of me.
Sir, said Tor unto Merlin, dishonour not my mother. Sir, said
Merlin, it is more for your worship than hurt, for your father is
a good man and a king, and he may right well advance you and your
mother, for ye were begotten or ever she was wedded. That is
truth, said the wife. It is the less grief unto me, said the
cowherd.
SO on the morn King Pellinore came to the court of King Arthur,
which had great joy of him, and told him of Tor, how he was his
son, and how he had made him knight at the request of the
cowherd. When Pellinore beheld Tor, he pleased him much. So the
king made Gawaine knight, but Tor was the first he made at the
feast. What is the cause, said King Arthur, that there be two
places void in the sieges? Sir, said Merlin, there shall no man
sit in those places but they that shall be of most worship. But
in the Siege Perilous there shall no man sit therein but one, and
if there be any so hardy to do it he shall be destroyed, and
he that shall sit there shall have no fellow. And therewith
Merlin took King Pellinore by the hand, and in the one hand next
the two sieges and the Siege Perilous he said, in open audience,
This is your place and best ye are worthy to sit therein of any
that is here. Thereat sat Sir Gawaine in great envy and told
Gaheris his brother, yonder knight is put to great worship, the
which grieveth me sore, for he slew our father King Lot,
therefore I will slay him, said Gawaine, with a sword that was
sent me that is passing trenchant. Ye shall not so, said
Gaheris, at this time, for at this time I am but a squire, and
when I am made knight I will be avenged on him, and therefore,
brother, it is best ye suffer till another time, that we may have
him out of the court, for an we did so we should trouble this
high feast. I will well, said Gawaine, as ye will.
THEN was the high feast made ready, and the king was wedded at
Camelot unto Dame Guenever in the church of Saint Stephen's, with
great solemnity. And as every man was set after his degree,
Merlin went to all the knights of the Round Table, and bade them
sit still, that none of them remove. For ye shall see a strange
and a marvellous adventure. Right so as they sat there came
running in a white hart into the hall, and a white brachet next
him, and thirty couple of black running hounds came after with a
great cry, and the hart went about the Table Round as he went by
other boards. The white brachet bit him by the buttock and
pulled out a piece, wherethrough the hart leapt a great leap and
overthrew a knight that sat at the board side; and therewith
the knight arose and took up the brachet, and so went forth out
of the hall, and took his horse and rode his way with the
brachet. Right so anon came in a lady on a white palfrey, and
cried aloud to King Arthur, Sir, suffer me not to have this
despite, for the brachet was mine that the knight led away. I
may not do therewith, said the king.
With this there came a knight riding all armed on a great horse,
and took the lady away with him with force, and ever she cried
and made great dole. When she was gone the king was glad, for
she made such a noise. Nay, said Merlin, ye may not leave these
adventures so lightly; for these adventures must be brought again
or else it would be disworship to you and to your feast. I will,
said the king, that all be done by your advice. Then, said
Merlin, let call Sir Gawaine, for he must bring again the white
hart. Also, sir, ye must let call Sir Tor, for he must bring
again the brachet and the knight, or else slay him. Also let
call King Pellinore, for he must bring again the lady and the
knight, or else slay him. And these three knights shall do
marvellous adventures or they come again. Then were they called
all three as it rehearseth afore, and each of them took his
charge, and armed them surely. But Sir Gawaine had the first
request, and therefore we will begin at him.
SIR GAWAINE rode more than a pace, and Gaheris his brother that
rode with him instead of a squire to do him service. So as they
rode they saw two knights fight on horseback passing sore, so Sir
Gawaine and his brother rode betwixt them, and asked them for
what cause they fought so. The one knight answered and said, We
fight for a simple matter, for we two be two brethren born
and begotten of one man and of one woman. Alas, said Sir
Gawaine, why do ye so? Sir, said the elder, there came a white
hart this way this day, and many hounds chased him, and a white
brachet was alway next him, and we understood it was adventure
made for the high feast of King Arthur, and therefore I would
have gone after to have won me worship; and here my younger
brother said he would go after the hart, for he was better knight
than I: and for this cause we fell at debate, and so we thought
to prove which of us both was better knight. This is a simple
cause, said Sir Gawaine; uncouth men ye should
debate withal, and not brother with brother; therefore but if you
will do by my counsel I will have ado with you, that is ye shall
yield you unto me, and that ye go unto King Arthur and yield you
unto his grace. Sir knight, said the two brethren, we are
forfoughten and much blood have we lost through our wilfulness,
and therefore we would be loath to have ado with you. Then do as
I will have you, said Sir Gawaine. We will agree to fulfil your
will; but by whom shall we say that we be thither sent? Ye may
say, By the knight that followeth the quest of the hart that was
white. Now what is your name? said Gawaine. Sorlouse of the
Forest, said the elder. And my name is, said the younger, Brian
of the Forest. And so they departed and went to the king's
court, and Sir Gawaine on his quest.
And as Gawaine followed the hart by the cry of the hounds, even
afore him there was a great river, and the hart swam over; and as
Sir Gawaine would follow after, there stood a knight over the
other side, and said, Sir knight, come not over after this hart
but if thou wilt joust with me. I will not fail as for that,
said Sir Gawaine, to follow the quest that I am in, and so made
his horse to swim over the water. And anon they gat their spears
and ran together full hard; but Sir Gawaine smote him off his
horse, and then he turned his horse and bade him yield him. Nay,
said the knight, not so, though thou have the better of me on
horseback. I pray thee, valiant knight, alight afoot, and
match we together with swords. What is your name? said Sir
Gawaine. Allardin of the Isles, said the other. Then either
dressed their shields and smote together, but Sir Gawaine smote
him so hard through the helm that it went to the brains, and the
knight fell down dead. Ah! said Gaheris, that was a mighty
stroke of a young knight.
THEN Gawaine and Gaheris rode more than a pace after the white
hart, and let slip at the hart three couple of greyhounds, and so
they chased the hart into a castle, and in the chief place of the
castle they slew the hart; Sir Gawaine and Gaheris followed
after. Right so there came a knight out of a chamber with a
sword drawn in his hand and slew two of the greyhounds, even in
the sight of Sir Gawaine, and the remnant he chased them with his
sword out of the castle. And when he came again, he said, O my
white hart, me repenteth that thou art dead, for my sovereign
lady gave thee to me, and evil have I kept thee, and thy death
shall be dear bought an I live. And anon he went into his
chamber and armed him, and came out fiercely, and there met he
with Sir Gawaine. Why have ye slain my hounds? said Sir Gawaine,
for they did but their kind, and liefer I had ye had wroken your
anger upon me than upon a dumb beast. Thou sayest truth, said
the knight, I have avenged me on thy hounds, and so I will on
thee or thou go. Then Sir Gawaine alighted afoot and dressed his
shield, and struck together mightily, and clave their shields,
and stoned their helms, and brake their hauberks that the blood
ran down to their feet.
At the last Sir Gawaine smote the knight so hard that he fell
to the earth, and then he cried mercy, and yielded him, and
besought him as he was a knight and gentleman, to save his life.
Thou shalt die, said Sir Gawaine, for slaying of my hounds. I
will make amends, said the knight, unto my power. Sir Gawaine
would no mercy have, but unlaced his helm to have stricken off
his head. Right so came his lady out of a chamber and fell over
him, and so he smote off her head by misadventure. Alas, said
Gaheris, that is foully and shamefully done, that shame shall
never from you; also ye should give mercy unto them that ask
mercy, for a knight without mercy is without worship. Sir
Gawaine was so stonied of the death of this fair lady that he
wist not what he did, and said unto the knight, Arise, I will
give thee mercy. Nay, nay, said the knight, I take no force of
mercy now, for thou hast slain my love and my lady that I loved
best of all earthly things. Me sore repenteth it, said Sir
Gawaine, for I thought to strike unto thee; but now thou shalt go
unto King Arthur and tell him of thine adventures, and how thou
art overcome by the knight that went in the quest of the white
hart. I take no force, said the knight, whether I live or I die;
but so for dread of death he swore to go unto King Arthur, and he
made him to bear one greyhound before him on his horse, and
another behind him. What is your name? said Sir Gawaine, or we
depart. My name is, said the knight, Ablamar of the Marsh. So
he departed toward Camelot.
AND Sir Gawaine went into the castle, and made him ready to lie
there all night, and would have unarmed him. What will ye do,
said Gaheris, will ye unarm you in this country? Ye may
think ye have many enemies here. They had not sooner said that
word but there came four knights well armed, and assailed Sir
Gawaine hard, and said unto him, Thou new-made knight, thou hast
shamed thy knighthood, for a knight without mercy is dishonoured.
Also thou hast slain a fair lady to thy great shame to the
world's end, and doubt thou not thou shalt have great need of
mercy or thou depart from us. And therewith one of them smote
Sir Gawaine a great stroke that nigh he fell to the earth, and
Gaheris smote him again sore, and so they were on the one side
and on the other, that Sir Gawaine and Gaheris were in jeopardy
of their lives; and one with a bow, an archer, smote Sir Gawaine
through the arm that it grieved him wonderly sore. And as they
should have been slain, there came four fair ladies, and besought
the knights of grace for Sir Gawaine; and goodly at request of
the ladies they gave Sir Gawaine and Gaheris their lives, and
made them to yield them as prisoners. Then Gawaine and Gaheris
made great dole. Alas! said Sir Gawaine, mine arm grieveth me
sore, I am like to be maimed; and so made his complaint
piteously.
Early on the morrow there came to Sir Gawaine one of the four
ladies that had heard all his complaint, and said, Sir knight,
what cheer? Not good, said he. It is your own default, said the
lady, for ye have done a passing foul deed in the slaying of the
lady, the which will be great villainy unto you. But be ye not
of King Arthur's kin? said the lady. Yes truly, said Sir
Gawaine. What is your name? said the lady, ye must tell it me or
ye pass. My name is Gawaine, the King Lot of Orkney's son, and
my mother is King Arthur's sister. Ah! then are ye nephew unto
King Arthur, said the lady, and I shall so speak for you that ye
shall have conduct to go to King Arthur for his love. And so she
departed and told the four knights how their prisoner was King
Arthur's nephew, and his name is Sir Gawaine, King Lot's son of
Orkney. And they gave him the hart's head because it was in his
quest. Then anon they delivered Sir Gawaine under this promise,
that he should bear the dead lady with him in this manner;
the head of her was hanged about his neck, and the whole body of
her lay before him on his horse's mane. Right so rode he forth
unto Camelot. And anon as he was come, Merlin desired of King
Arthur that Sir Gawaine should be sworn to tell of all his
adventures, and how he slew the lady, and how he would give no
mercy unto the knight, wherethrough the lady was slain. Then the
king and the queen were greatly displeased with Sir Gawaine for
the slaying of the lady. And there by ordinance of the queen
there was set a quest of ladies on Sir Gawaine, and they judged
him for ever while he lived to be with all ladies, and to fight
for their quarrels; and that ever he should be courteous, and
never to refuse mercy to him that asketh mercy. Thus was Gawaine
sworn upon the Four Evangelists that he should never be against
lady nor gentlewoman, but if he fought for a lady and his
adversary fought for another. And thus endeth the adventure of
Sir Gawaine that he did at the marriage of King Arthur. Amen.
WHEN Sir Tor was ready, he mounted upon his horseback, and rode
after the knight with the brachet. So as he rode he met with a
dwarf suddenly that smote his horse on the head with a staff,
that he went backward his spear length. Why dost thou so? said
Sir Tor. For thou shalt not pass this way, but if thou joust
with yonder knights of the pavilions. Then was Tor ware where
two pavilions were, and great spears stood out, and two shields
hung on trees by the pavilions. I may not tarry, said Sir Tor,
for I am in a quest that I must needs follow. Thou shalt not
pass, said the dwarf, and therewithal he blew his horn. Then
there came one armed on horseback, and dressed his shield,
and came fast toward Tor, and he dressed him against him, and
so ran together that Tor bare him from his horse. And anon the
knight yielded him to his mercy. But, sir, I have a fellow in
yonder pavilion that will have ado with you anon. He shall be
welcome, said Sir Tor. Then was he ware of another knight coming
with great raundon, and each of them dressed to other, that
marvel it was to see; but the knight smote Sir Tor a great stroke
in midst of the shield that his spear all to-shivered. And Sir
Tor smote him through the shield below of the shield that it went
through the cost of the knight, but the stroke slew him not. And
therewith Sir Tor alighted and smote him on the helm a great
stroke, and therewith the knight yielded him and besought him of
mercy. I will well, said Sir Tor, but thou and thy fellow must
go unto King Arthur, and yield you prisoners unto him. By whom
shall we say are we thither sent? Ye shall say by the knight
that went in the quest of the knight that went with the brachet.
Now, what be your two names? said Sir Tor. My name is, said the
one, Sir Felot of Langduk; and my name is, said the other, Sir
Petipase of Winchelsea. Now go ye forth, said Sir Tor, and God
speed you and me. Then came the dwarf and said unto Sir Tor, I
pray you give me a gift. I will well, said Sir Tor, ask. I ask
no more, said the dwarf, but that ye will suffer me to do you
service, for I will serve no more recreant knights. Take an
horse, said Sir Tor, and ride on with me. I wot ye ride after
the knight with the white brachet, and I shall bring you where he
is, said the dwarf. And so they rode throughout a forest, and at
the last they were ware of two pavilions, even by a priory, with
two shields, and the one shield was enewed with white, and the
other shield was red.
THEREWITH Sir Tor alighted and took the dwarf his glaive, and so
he came to the white pavilion, and saw three damosels lie in it,
on one pallet, sleeping, and so he went to the other pavilion,
and found a lady lying sleeping therein, but there was the white
brachet that bayed at her fast, and therewith the lady yede out
of the pavilion and all her damosels. But anon as Sir Tor espied
the white brachet, he took her by force and took her to the
dwarf. What, will ye so, said the lady, take my brachet from me?
Yea, said Sir Tor, this brachet have I sought from King Arthur's
court hither. Well, said the lady, knight, ye shall not go far
with her, but that ye shall be met and grieved. I shall abide
what adventure that cometh by the grace of God, and so mounted
upon his horse, and passed on his way toward Camelot; but it was
so near night he might not pass but little further. Know ye any
lodging? said Tor. I know none, said the dwarf, but here beside
is an hermitage, and there ye must take lodging as ye find. And
within a while they came to the hermitage and took lodging; and
was there grass, oats and bread for their horses; soon it was
sped, and full hard was their supper; but there they rested them
all night till on the morn, and heard a mass devoutly, and took
their leave of the hermit, and Sir Tor prayed the hermit to pray
for him. He said he would, and betook him to God. And so
mounted upon horseback and rode towards Camelot a long while.
With that they heard a knight call loud that came after them, and
he said, Knight, abide and yield my brachet that thou took from
my lady. Sir Tor returned again, and beheld him how he was a
seemly knight and well horsed, and well armed at all points; then
Sir Tor dressed his shield, and took his spear in his hands, and
the other came fiercely upon him, and smote both horse and man to
the earth. Anon they arose lightly and drew their swords as
eagerly as lions, and put their shields afore them, and smote
through the shields, that the cantels fell off both parties.
Also they tamed their helms that the hot blood ran out, and the
thick mails of their hauberks they carved and rove in sunder that
the hot blood ran to the earth, and both they had many wounds and
were passing weary. But Sir Tor espied that the other knight
fainted, and then he sued fast upon him, and doubled his strokes,
and gart him go to the earth on the one side. Then Sir Tor bade
him yield him. That will I not, said Abelleus, while my life
lasteth and the soul is within my body, unless that thou wilt
give me the brachet. That will I not do, said Sir Tor, for it
was my quest to bring again thy brachet, thee, or both.
WITH that came a damosel riding on a palfrey as fast as she might
drive, and cried with a loud voice unto Sir Tor. What will ye
with me? said Sir Tor. I beseech thee, said the damosel, for
King Arthur's love, give me a gift; I require thee, gentle
knight, as thou art a gentleman. Now, said Tor, ask a gift and I
will give it you. Gramercy, said the damosel; now I ask the head
of the false knight Abelleus, for he is the most outrageous
knight that liveth, and the greatest murderer. I am loath, said
Sir Tor, of that gift I have given you; let him make amends in
that he hath trespassed unto you. Now, said the damosel, he may
not, for he slew mine own brother before mine own eyes, that was
a better knight than he, an he had had grace; and I kneeled half
an hour afore him in the mire for to save my brother's life, that
had done him no damage, but fought with him by adventure of arms,
and so for all that I could do he struck off his head; wherefore
I require thee, as thou art a true knight, to give me my
gift, or else I shall shame thee in all the court of King Arthur;
for he is the falsest knight living, and a great destroyer of
good knights. Then when Abelleus heard this, he was more afeard,
and yielded him and asked mercy. I may not now, said Sir Tor,
but if I should be found false of my promise; for while I would
have taken you to mercy ye would none ask, but if ye had the
brachet again, that was my quest. And therewith he took off his
helm, and he arose and fled, and Sir Tor after him, and smote off
his head quite.
Now sir, said the damosel, it is near night; I pray you come and
lodge with me here at my place, it is here fast by. I will well,
said Sir Tor, for his horse and he had fared evil since they
departed from Camelot, and so he rode with her, and had passing
good cheer with her; and she had a passing fair old knight to her
husband that made him passing good cheer, and well eased both his
horse and him. And on the morn he heard his mass, and brake his
fast, and took his leave of the knight and of the lady, that
besought him to tell them his name. Truly, he said, my name is
Sir Tor that was late made knight, and this was the first quest
of arms that ever I did, to bring again that this knight Abelleus
took away from King Arthur's court. O fair knight, said the lady
and her husband, an ye come here in our marches, come and see our
poor lodging, and it shall be always at your commandment. So Sir
Tor departed and came to Camelot on the third day by noon, and
the king and the queen and all the court was passing fain of his
coming, and made great joy that he was come again; for he went
from the court with little succour, but as King Pellinore his
father gave him an old courser, and King Arthur gave him armour
and a sword, and else had he none other succour, but rode so
forth himself alone. And then the king and the queen by Merlin's
advice made him to swear to tell of his adventures, and so he
told and made proofs of his deeds as it is afore rehearsed,
wherefore the king and the queen made great joy. Nay, nay, said
Merlin, these be but japes to that he shall do; for he shall
prove a noble knight of prowess, as good as any is living,
and gentle and courteous, and of good tatches, and passing
true of his promise, and never shall outrage. Wherethrough
Merlin's words King Arthur gave him an earldom of lands that fell
unto him. And here endeth the quest of Sir Tor, King Pellinore's
son.
THEN King Pellinore armed him and mounted upon his horse, and
rode more than a pace after the lady that the knight led away.
And as he rode in a forest, he saw in a valley a damosel sit by a
well, and a wounded knight in her arms, and Pellinore saluted
her. And when she was ware of him, she cried overloud, Help me,
knight; for Christ's sake, King Pellinore. And he would not
tarry, he was so eager in his quest, and ever she cried an
hundred times after help. When she saw he would not abide, she
prayed unto God to send him as much need of help as she had, and
that he might feel it or he died. So, as the book telleth, the
knight there died that there was wounded, wherefore the lady for
pure sorrow slew herself with his sword. As King Pellinore rode
in that valley he met with a poor man, a labourer. Sawest thou
not, said Pellinore, a knight riding and leading away a lady?
Yea, said the man, I saw that knight, and the lady that made
great dole; and yonder beneath in a valley there shall ye see two
pavilions, and one of the knights of the pavilions challenged
that lady of that knight, and said she was his cousin near,
wherefore he should lead her no farther. And so they waged
battle in that quarrel, the one said he would have her by force,
and the other said he would have the rule of her, by cause he was
her kinsman, and would lead her to her kin. For this quarrel he
left them fighting. And if ye will ride a pace ye shall find
them fighting, and the lady was beleft with the two squires in
the pavilions. God thank thee, said King Pellinore.
Then he rode a wallop till he had a sight of the two pavilions,
and the two knights fighting. Anon he rode unto the pavilions,
and saw the lady that was his quest, and said, Fair lady, ye must
go with me unto the court of King Arthur. Sir knight, said the
two squires that were with her, yonder are two knights that fight
for this lady, go thither and depart them, and be agreed with
them, and then may ye have her at your pleasure. Ye say well,
said King Pellinore. And anon he rode betwixt them, and departed
them, and asked them the causes why that they fought? Sir
knight, said the one, I shall tell you, this lady is my kinswoman
nigh, mine aunt's daughter, and when I heard her complain that
she was with him maugre her head, I waged battle to fight with
him. Sir knight, said the other, whose name was Hontzlake of
Wentland, and this lady I gat by my prowess of arms this day at
Arthur's court. That is untruly said, said King Pellinore, for
ye came in suddenly there as we were at the high feast, and took
away this lady or any man might make him ready; and therefore it
was my quest to bring her again and you both, or else the one of
us to abide in the field; therefore the lady shall go with me, or
I will die for it, for I have promised it King Arthur. And
therefore fight ye no more, for none of you shall have no part of
her at this time; and if ye list to fight for her, fight with me,
and I will defend her. Well, said the knights, make you ready,
and we shall assail you with all our power. And as King
Pellinore would have put his horse from them, Sir Hontzlake rove
his horse through with a sword, and said: Now art thou on foot
as well as we are. When King Pellinore espied that his horse was
slain, lightly he leapt from his horse and pulled out his sword,
and put his shield afore him, and said, Knight, keep well thy
head, for thou shalt have a buffet for the slaying of my horse.
So King Pellinore gave him such a stroke upon the helm that he
clave the head down to the chin, that he fell to the earth dead.
AND then he turned him to the other knight, that was sore
wounded. But when he saw the other's buffet, he would not fight,
but kneeled down and said, Take my cousin the lady with you at
your request, and I require you, as ye be a true knight, put her
to no shame nor villainy. What, said King Pellinore, will ye not
fight for her? No, sir, said the knight, I will not fight with
such a knight of prowess as ye be. Well, said Pellinore, ye say
well; I promise you she shall have no villainy by me, as I am
true knight; but now me lacketh an horse, said Pellinore, but I
will have Hontzlake's horse. Ye shall not need, said the knight,
for I shall give you such an horse as shall please you, so that
you will lodge with me, for it is near night. I will well, said
King Pellinore, abide with you all night. And there he had with
him right good cheer, and fared of the best with passing good
wine, and had merry rest that night. And on the morn he heard a
mass and dined; and then was brought him a fair bay courser, and
King Pellinore's saddle set upon him. Now, what shall I call
you? said the knight, inasmuch as ye have my cousin at your
desire of your quest. Sir, I shall tell you, my name is King
Pellinore of the Isles and knight of the Table Round. Now I am
glad, said the knight, that such a noble man shall have the rule
of my cousin. Now, what is your name? said Pellinore, I pray you
tell me. Sir, my name is Sir Meliot of Logurs, and this lady my
cousin hight Nimue, and the knight that was in the other pavilion
is my sworn brother, a passing good knight, and his name is Brian
of the Isles, and he is full loath to do wrong, and full loath to
fight with any man, but if he be sore sought on, so that for
shame he may not leave it. It is marvel, said Pellinore, that he
will not have ado with me. Sir, he will not have ado with no
man but if it be at his request. Bring him to the court, said
Pellinore, one of these days. Sir, we will come together. And
ye shall be welcome, said Pellinore, to the court of King Arthur,
and greatly allowed for your coming. And so he departed with the
lady, and brought her to Camelot.
So as they rode in a valley it was full of stones, and there the
lady's horse stumbled and threw her down, that her arm was sore
bruised and near she swooned for pain. Alas! sir, said the lady,
mine arm is out of lithe, wherethrough I must needs rest me. Ye
shall well, said King Pellinore. And so he alighted under a fair
tree where was fair grass, and he put his horse thereto, and so
laid him under the tree and slept till it was nigh night. And
when he awoke he would have ridden. Sir, said the lady, it is so
dark that ye may as well ride backward as forward. So they abode
still and made there their lodging. Then Sir Pellinore put off
his armour; then a little afore midnight they heard the trotting
of an horse. Be ye still, said King Pellinore, for we shall hear
of some adventure.
AND therewith he armed him. So right even afore him there met
two knights, the one came froward Camelot, and the other from the
north, and either saluted other. What tidings at Camelot? said
the one. By my head, said the other, there have I been and
espied the court of King Arthur, and there is such a fellowship
they may never be broken, and well-nigh all the world holdeth
with Arthur, for there is the flower of chivalry. Now for this
cause I am riding into the north, to tell our chieftains of the
fellowship that is withholden with King Arthur. As for that,
said the other knight, I have brought a remedy with me, that is
the greatest poison that ever ye heard speak of, and to Camelot
will I with it, for we have a friend right nigh King Arthur, and
well cherished, that shall poison King Arthur; for so he hath
promised our chieftains, and received great gifts for to do it.
Beware, said the other knight, of Merlin, for he knoweth all
things by the devil's craft. Therefore will I not let it, said
the knight. And so they departed asunder. Anon after Pellinore
made him ready, and his lady, [and] rode toward Camelot; and as
they came by the well there as the wounded knight was and the
lady, there he found the knight, and the lady eaten with lions or
wild beasts, all save the head, wherefore he made great sorrow,
and wept passing sore, and said, Alas! her life might I have
saved; but I was so fierce in my quest, therefore I would not
abide. Wherefore make ye such dole? said the lady. I wot not,
said Pellinore, but my heart mourneth sore of the death of her,
for she was a passing fair lady and a young. Now, will ye do by
mine advice? said the lady, take this knight and let him be
buried in an hermitage, and then take the lady's head and bear it
with you unto Arthur. So King Pellinore took this dead knight on
his shoulders, and brought him to the hermitage, and charged the
hermit with the corpse, that service should be done for the soul;
and take his harness for your pain. It shall be done, said the
hermit, as I will answer unto God.
AND therewith they departed, and came there as the head of the
lady lay with a fair yellow hair that grieved King Pellinore
passingly sore when he looked on it, for much he cast his
heart on the visage. And so by noon they came to Camelot; and
the king and the queen were passing fain of his coming to the
court. And there he was made to swear upon the Four Evangelists,
to tell the truth of his quest from the one to the other. Ah!
Sir Pellinore, said Queen Guenever, ye were greatly to blame that
ye saved not this lady's life. Madam, said Pellinore, ye were
greatly to blame an ye would not save your own life an ye might,
but, save your pleasure, I was so furious in my quest that I
would not abide, and that repenteth me, and shall the days of my
life. Truly, said Merlin, ye ought sore to repent it, for that
lady was your own daughter begotten on the lady of the Rule, and
that knight that was dead was her love, and should have wedded
her, and he was a right good knight of a young man, and would
have proved a good man, and to this court was he coming, and his
name was Sir Miles of the Launds, and a knight came behind him
and slew him with a spear, and his name is Loraine le Savage, a
false knight and a coward; and she for great sorrow and dole slew
herself with his sword, and her name was Eleine. And because ye
would not abide and help her, ye shall see your best friend fail
you when ye be in the greatest distress that ever ye were or
shall be. And that penance God hath ordained you for that deed,
that he that ye shall most trust to of any man alive, he shall
leave you there ye shall be slain. Me forthinketh, said King
Pellinore, that this shall me betide, but God may fordo well
destiny.
Thus, when the quest was done of the white hart, the which
followed Sir Gawaine; and the quest of the brachet, followed of
Sir Tor, Pellinore's son; and the quest of the lady that the
knight took away, the which King Pellinore at that time followed;
then the king stablished all his knights, and them that were of
lands not rich he gave them lands, and charged them never to do
outrageousity nor murder, and always to flee treason; also, by no
means to be cruel, but to give mercy unto him that asketh mercy,
upon pain of forfeiture of their worship and lordship of King
Arthur for evermore; and always to do ladies, damosels, and
gentlewomen succour, upon pain of death. Also, that no man take
no battles in a wrongful quarrel for no law, nor for no world's
goods. Unto this were all the knights sworn of the Table Round,
both old and young. And every year were they sworn at the high
feast of Pentecost.
Explicit the Wedding of King Arthur.
Sequitur quartus liber.
SO after these quests of Sir Gawaine, Sir Tor, and King
Pellinore, it fell so that Merlin fell in a dotage on the damosel
that King Pellinore brought to court, and she was one of the
damosels of the lake, that hight Nimue. But Merlin would let her
have no rest, but always he would be with her. And ever she made
Merlin good cheer till she had learned of him all manner thing
that she desired; and he was assotted upon her, that he might not
be from her. So on a time he told King Arthur that he should not
dure long, but for all his crafts he should be put in the earth
quick. And so he told the king many things that should befall,
but always he warned the king to keep well his sword and the
scabbard, for he told him how the sword and the scabbard should
be stolen by a woman from him that he most trusted. Also he told
King Arthur that he should miss him,--Yet had ye liefer than all
your lands to have me again. Ah, said the king, since ye know of
your adventure, purvey for it, and put away by your crafts that
misadventure. Nay, said Merlin, it will not be; so he departed
from the king. And within a while the Damosel of the Lake
departed, and Merlin went with her evermore wheresomever she
went. And ofttimes Merlin would have had her privily away by his
subtle crafts; then she made him to swear that he should
never do none enchantment upon her if he would have his will.
And so he sware; so she and Merlin went over the sea unto the
land of Benwick, whereas King Ban was king that had great war
against King Claudas, and there Merlin spake with King Ban's
wife, a fair lady and a good, and her name was Elaine, and there
he saw young Launcelot. There the queen made great sorrow for
the mortal war that King Claudas made on her lord and on her
lands. Take none heaviness, said Merlin, for this same child
within this twenty year shall revenge you on King Claudas, that
all Christendom shall speak of it; and this same child shall be
the most man of worship of the world, and his first name is
Galahad, that know I well, said Merlin, and since ye have
confirmed him Launcelot. That is truth, said the queen, his
first name was Galahad. O Merlin, said the queen, shall I live
to see my son such a man of prowess? Yea, lady, on my peril ye
shall see it, and live many winters after.
And so, soon after, the lady and Merlin departed, and by the way
Merlin showed her many wonders, and came into Cornwall. And
always Merlin lay about the lady to have her maidenhood, and she
was ever passing weary of him, and fain would have been delivered
of him, for she was afeard of him because he was a devil's son,
and she could not beskift him by no mean. And so on a time it
happed that Merlin showed to her in a rock whereas was a great
wonder, and wrought by enchantment, that went under a great
stone. So by her subtle working she made Merlin to go under that
stone to let her wit of the marvels there; but she wrought so
there for him that he came never out for all the craft he could
do. And so she departed and left Merlin.
AND as King Arthur rode to Camelot, and held there a great feast
with mirth and joy, so soon after he returned unto Cardoile, and
there came unto Arthur new tidings that the king of Denmark, and
the king of Ireland that was his brother, and the king of the
Vale, and the king of Soleise, and the king of the Isle of
Longtains, all these five kings with a great host were entered
into the land of King Arthur, and burnt and slew clean afore
them, both cities and castles, that it was pity to hear. Alas,
said Arthur, yet had I never rest one month since I was crowned
king of this land. Now shall I never rest till I meet with those
kings in a fair field, that I make mine avow; for my true liege
people shall not be destroyed in my default, go with me who will,
and abide who that will. Then the king let write unto King
Pellinore, and prayed him in all haste to make him ready with
such people as he might lightliest rear and hie him after in all
haste. All the barons were privily wroth that the king would
depart so suddenly; but the king by no mean would abide, but made
writing unto them that were not there, and bade them hie after
him, such as were not at that time in the court. Then the king
came to Queen Guenever, and said, Lady, make you ready, for ye
shall go with me, for I may not long miss you; ye shall cause me
to be the more hardy, what adventure so befall me; I will not wit
my lady to be in no jeopardy. Sir, said she, I am at your
commandment, and shall be ready what time so ye be ready. So on
the morn the king and the queen departed with such fellowship as
they had, and came into the north, into a forest beside Humber,
and there lodged them. When the word and tiding came unto the
five kings above said, that Arthur was beside Humber in a forest,
there was a knight, brother unto one of the five kings, that
gave them this counsel: Ye know well that Sir Arthur hath the
flower of chivalry of the world with him, as it is proved by the
great battle he did with the eleven kings; and therefore hie unto
him night and day till that we be nigh him, for the longer he
tarrieth the bigger he is, and we ever the weaker; and he is so
courageous of himself that he is come to the field with little
people, and therefore let us set upon him or day and we shall
slay down; of his knights there shall none escape.
UNTO this counsel these five kings assented, and so they passed
forth with their host through North Wales, and came upon Arthur
by night, and set upon his host as the king and his knights were
in their pavilions. King Arthur was unarmed, and had laid him to
rest with his Queen Guenever. Sir, said Sir Kay, it is not good
we be unarmed. We shall have no need, said Sir Gawaine and Sir
Griflet, that lay in a little pavilion by the king. With that
they heard a great noise, and many cried, Treason, treason!
Alas, said King Arthur, we be betrayed! Unto arms, fellows, then
he cried. So they were armed anon at all points. Then came
there a wounded knight unto the king, and said, Sir, save
yourself and my lady the queen, for our host is destroyed, and
much people of ours slain. So anon the king and the queen and the
three knights took their horses, and rode toward Humber to pass
over it, and the water was so rough that they were afraid to pass
over. Now may ye choose, said King Arthur, whether ye will abide
and take the adventure on this side, for an ye be taken they will
slay you. It were me liefer, said the queen, to die in the water
than to fall in your enemies' hands and there be slain.
And as they stood so talking, Sir Kay saw the five kings coming
on horseback by themselves alone, with their spears in their
hands even toward them. Lo, said Sir Kay, yonder be the five
kings; let us go to them and match them. That were folly, said
Sir Gawaine, for we are but three and they be five. That is
truth, said Sir Griflet. No force, said Sir Kay, I will
undertake for two of them, and then may ye three undertake for
the other three. And therewithal, Sir Kay let his horse run as
fast as he might, and struck one of them through the shield and
the body a fathom, that the king fell to the earth stark dead.
That saw Sir Gawaine, and ran unto another king so hard that he
smote him through the body. And therewithal King Arthur ran to
another, and smote him through the body with a spear, that he
fell to the earth dead Then Sir Griflet ran unto the fourth king,
and gave him such a fall that his neck brake. Anon Sir Kay ran
unto the fifth king, and smote him so hard on the helm that the
stroke clave the helm and the head to the earth. That was well
stricken, said King Arthur, and worshipfully hast thou holden thy
promise, therefore I shall honour thee while that I live. And
therewithal they set the queen in a barge into Humber; but always
Queen Guenever praised Sir Kay for his deeds, and said, What lady
that ye love, and she love you not again she were greatly to
blame; and among ladies, said the queen, I shall bear your noble
fame, for ye spake a great word, and fulfilled it worshipfully.
And therewith the queen departed.
Then the king and the three knights rode into the forest, for
there they supposed to hear of them that were escaped; and there
he found the most part of his people, and told them all how the
five kings were dead. And therefore let us hold us together till
it be day, and when their host have espied that their chieftains
be slain, they will make such dole that they shall no more help
themselves. And right so as the king said, so it was; for when
they found the five kings dead, they made such dole that they
fell from their horses. Therewithal came King Arthur but with a
few people, and slew on the left hand and on the right hand,
that well-nigh there escaped no man, but all were slain to the
number thirty thousand. And when the battle was all ended, the
king kneeled down and thanked God meekly. And then he sent for
the queen, and soon she was come, and she made great joy of the
overcoming of that battle.
THEREWITHAL came one to King Arthur, and told him that King
Pellinore was within three mile with a great host; and he said,
Go unto him, and let him understand how we have sped. So within
a while King Pellinore came with a great host, and saluted the
people and the king, and there was great joy made on every side.
Then the king let search how much people of his party there was
slain; and there were found but little past two hundred men slain
and eight knights of the Table Round in their pavilions. Then
the king let rear and devise in the same place whereat the battle
was done a fair abbey, and endowed it with great livelihood, and
let it call the Abbey of La Beale Adventure. But when some of
them came into their countries, whereof the five kings were
kings, and told them how they were slain, there was made great
dole. And all King Arthur's enemies, as the King of North Wales,
and the kings of the North, [when they] wist of the battle, they
were passing heavy. And so the king returned unto Camelot in
haste.
And when he was come to Camelot he called King Pellinore unto
him, and said, Ye understand well that we have lost eight knights
of the best of the Table Round, and by your advice we will choose
eight again of the best we may find in this court. Sir, said
Pellinore, I shall counsel you after my conceit the best: there
are in your court full noble knights both of old and young; and
therefore by mine advice ye shall choose half of the old and
half of the young. Which be the old? said King Arthur. Sir,
said King Pellinore, meseemeth that King Uriens that hath wedded
your sister Morgan le Fay, and the King of the Lake, and Sir
Hervise de Revel, a noble knight, and Sir Galagars, the fourth.
This is well devised, said King Arthur, and right so shall it be.
Now, which are the four young knights? said Arthur. Sir, said
Pellinore, the first is Sir Gawaine, your nephew, that is as good
a knight of his time as any is in this land; and the second as
meseemeth best is Sir Griflet le Fise de Dieu, that is a good
knight and full desirous in arms, and who may see him live he
shall prove a good knight; and the third as meseemeth is well to
be one of the knights of the Round Table, Sir Kay the Seneschal,
for many times he hath done full worshipfully, and now at your
last battle he did full honourably for to undertake to slay two
kings. By my head, said Arthur, he is best worth to be a knight
of the Round Table of any that ye have rehearsed, an he had done
no more prowess in his life days.
NOW, said King Pellinore, I shall put to you two knights, and ye
shall choose which is most worthy, that is Sir Bagdemagus, and
Sir Tor, my son. But because Sir Tor is my son I may not praise
him, but else, an he were not my son, I durst say that of his age
there is not in this land a better knight than he is, nor of
better conditions and loath to do any wrong, and loath to take
any wrong. By my head, said Arthur, he is a passing good knight
as any ye spake of this day, that wot I well, said the king; for
I have seen him proved, but he saith little and he doth much
more, for I know none in all this court an he were as well
born on his mother's side as he is on your side, that is like him
of prowess and of might: and therefore I will have him at this
time, and leave Sir Bagdemagus till another time. So when they
were so chosen by the assent of all the barons, so were there
found in their sieges every knights' names that here are
rehearsed, and so were they set in their sieges; whereof Sir
Bagdemagus was wonderly wroth, that Sir Tor was advanced afore
him, and therefore suddenly he departed from the court, and took
his squire with him, and rode long in a forest till they came to
a cross, and there alighted and said his prayers devoutly. The
meanwhile his squire found written upon the cross, that
Bagdemagus should never return unto the court again, till he had
won a knight's body of the Round Table, body for body. So, sir,
said the squire, here I find writing of you, therefore I rede you
return again to the court. That shall I never, said Bagdemagus,
till men speak of me great worship, and that I be worthy to be a
knight of the Round Table. And so he rode forth, and there by
the way he found a branch of an holy herb that was the sign of
the Sangreal, and no knight found such tokens but he were a good
liver.
So, as Sir Bagdemagus rode to see many adventures, it happed him
to come to the rock whereas the Lady of the Lake had put Merlin
under the stone, and there he heard him make great dole; whereof
Sir Bagdemagus would have holpen him, and went unto the great
stone, and it was so heavy that an hundred men might not lift it
up. When Merlin wist he was there, he bade leave his labour, for
all was in vain, for he might never be holpen but by her that put
him there. And so Bagdemagus departed and did many adventures,
and proved after a full good knight, and came again to the court
and was made knight of the Round Table. So on the morn there
fell new tidings and other adventures.
THEN it befell that Arthur and many of his knights rode a-hunting
into a great forest, and it happed King Arthur, King Uriens, and
Sir Accolon of Gaul, followed a great hart, for they three were
well horsed, and so they chased so fast that within a while they
three were then ten mile from their fellowship. And at the last
they chased so sore that they slew their horses underneath them.
Then were they all three on foot, and ever they saw the hart
afore them passing weary and enbushed. What will we do? said
King Arthur, we are hard bestead. Let us go on foot, said King
Uriens, till we may meet with some lodging. Then were they ware
of the hart that lay on a great water bank, and a brachet biting
on his throat, and more other hounds came after. Then King
Arthur blew the prise and dight the hart.
Then the king looked about the world, and saw afore him in a
great water a little ship, all apparelled with silk down to the
water, and the ship came right unto them and landed on the sands.
Then Arthur went to the bank and looked in, and saw none earthly
creature therein. Sirs, said the king, come thence, and let us
see what is in this ship. So they went in all three, and found
it richly behanged with cloth of silk. By then it was dark
night, and there suddenly were about them an hundred torches set
upon all the sides of the ship boards, and it gave great light;
and therewithal there came out twelve fair damosels and saluted
King Arthur on their knees, and called him by his name, and said
he was right welcome, and such cheer as they had he should have
of the best. The king thanked them fair. Therewithal they led
the king and his two fellows into a fair chamber, and there was a
cloth laid, richly beseen of all that longed unto a table, and
there were they served of all wines and meats that they
could think; of that the king had great marvel, for he fared
never better in his life as for one supper. And so when they had
supped at their leisure, King Arthur was led into a chamber, a
richer beseen chamber saw he never none, and so was King Uriens
served, and led into such another chamber, and Sir Accolon was
led into the third chamber passing richly and well beseen; and so
they were laid in their beds easily. And anon they fell asleep,
and slept marvellously sore all the night. And on the morrow
King Uriens was in Camelot abed in his wife's arms, Morgan le
Fay. And when he awoke he had great marvel, how he came there,
for on the even afore he was two days' journey from Camelot. And
when King Arthur awoke he found himself in a dark prison, hearing
about him many complaints of woful knights.
WHAT are ye that so complain? said King Arthur. We be here
twenty knights, prisoners, said they, and some of us have lain
here seven year, and some more and some less. For what cause?
said Arthur. We shall tell you, said the knights; this lord of
this castle, his name is Sir Damas, and he is the falsest knight
that liveth, and full of treason, and a very coward as any
liveth, and he hath a younger brother, a good knight of prowess,
his name is Sir Ontzlake; and this traitor Damas, the elder
brother will give him no part of his livelihood, but as Sir
Ontzlake keepeth thorough prowess of his hands, and so he keepeth
from him a full fair manor and a rich, and therein Sir Ontzlake
dwelleth worshipfully, and is well beloved of all people. And
this Sir Damas, our master is as evil beloved, for he is
without mercy, and he is a coward, and great war hath been
betwixt them both, but Ontzlake hath ever the better, and ever he
proffereth Sir Damas to fight for the livelihood, body for body,
but he will not do; other-else to find a knight to fight for him.
Unto that Sir Damas had granted to find a knight, but he is so
evil beloved and hated, that there is never a knight will fight
for him. And when Damas saw this, that there was never a knight
would fight for him, he hath daily lain await with many knights
with him, and taken all the knights in this country to see and
espy their adventures, he hath taken them by force and brought
them to his prison. And so he took us separately as we rode on
our adventures, and many good knights have died in this prison
for hunger, to the number of eighteen knights; and if any of us
all that here is, or hath been, would have foughten with his
brother Ontzlake, he would have delivered us, but for because
this Damas is so false and so full of treason we would never
fight for him to die for it. And we be so lean for hunger that
unnethe we may stand on our feet. God deliver you, for his
mercy, said Arthur.
Anon, therewithal there came a damosel unto Arthur, and asked
him, What cheer? I cannot say, said he. Sir, said she, an ye
will fight for my lord, ye shall be delivered out of prison, and
else ye escape never the life. Now, said Arthur, that is hard,
yet had I liefer to fight with a knight than to die in prison;
with this, said Arthur, I may be delivered and all these
prisoners, I will do the battle. Yes, said the damosel. I am
ready, said Arthur, an I had horse and armour. Ye shall lack
none, said the damosel. Meseemeth, damosel, I should have seen
you in the court of Arthur. Nay said the damosel, I came never
there, I am the lord's daughter of this castle. Yet was she
false, for she was one of the damosels of Morgan le Fay.
Anon she went unto Sir Damas, and told him how he would do battle
for him, and so he sent for Arthur. And when he came he was well
coloured, and well made of his limbs, that all knights that saw
him said it were pity that such a knight should die in prison.
So Sir Damas and he were agreed that he should fight for him
upon this covenant, that all other knights should be delivered;
and unto that was Sir Damas sworn unto Arthur, and also to do the
battle to the uttermost. And with that all the twenty knights
were brought out of the dark prison into the hall, and delivered,
and so they all abode to see the battle.
NOW turn we unto Accolon of Gaul, that when he awoke he found
himself by a deep well-side, within half a foot, in great peril
of death. And there came out of that fountain a pipe of silver,
and out of that pipe ran water all on high in a stone of marble.
When Sir Accolon saw this, he blessed him and said, Jesus save my
lord King Arthur, and King Uriens, for these damosels in this
ship have betrayed us, they were devils and no women; and if I
may escape this misadventure, I shall destroy all where I may
find these false damosels that use enchantments. Right with that
there came a dwarf with a great mouth and a flat nose, and
saluted Sir Accolon, and said how he came from Queen Morgan le
Fay, and she greeteth you well, and biddeth you be of strong
heart, for ye shall fight to morrow with a knight at the hour of
prime, and therefore she hath sent you here Excalibur, Arthur's
sword, and the scabbard, and she biddeth you as ye love her, that
ye do the battle to the uttermost, without any mercy, like as ye
had promised her when ye spake together in privity; and what
damosel that bringeth her the knight's head, which ye shall fight
withal, she will make her a queen. Now I understand you well,
said Accolon, I shall hold that I have promised her now I have
the sword: when saw ye my lady Queen Morgan le Fay? Right late,
said the dwarf. Then Accolon took him in his arms and said,
Recommend me unto my lady queen, and tell her all shall be
done that I have promised her, and else I will die for it. Now I
suppose, said Accolon, she hath made all these crafts and
enchantments for this battle. Ye may well believe it, said the
dwarf. Right so there came a knight and a lady with six squires,
and saluted Accolon, and prayed him for to arise, and come and
rest him at his manor. And so Accolon mounted upon a void horse,
and went with the knight unto a fair manor by a priory, and there
he had passing good cheer.
Then Sir Damas sent unto his brother Sir Ontzlake, and bade make
him ready by to-morn at the hour of prime, and to be in the field
to fight with a good knight, for he had found a good knight that
was ready to do battle at all points. When this word came unto
Sir Ontzlake he was passing heavy, for he was wounded a little
to-fore through both his thighs with a spear, and made great
dole; but as he was wounded, he would have taken the battle on
hand. So it happed at that time, by the means of Morgan le Fay,
Accolon was with Sir Ontzlake lodged; and when he heard of that
battle, and how Ontzlake was wounded, he said that he would fight
for him. Because Morgan le Fay had sent him Excalibur and the
sheath for to fight with the knight on the morn: this was the
cause Sir Accolon took the battle on hand. Then Sir Ontzlake was
passing glad, and thanked Sir Accolon with all his heart that he
would do so much for him. And therewithal Sir Ontzlake sent word
unto his brother Sir Damas, that he had a knight that for him
should be ready in the field by the hour of prime.
So on the morn Sir Arthur was armed and well horsed, and asked
Sir Damas, When shall we to the field? Sir, said Sir Damas, ye
shall hear mass. And so Arthur heard a mass, and when mass was
done there came a squire on a great horse, and asked Sir Damas if
his knight were ready, for our knight is ready in the field.
Then Sir Arthur mounted upon horseback, and there were all the
knights and commons of that country; and so by all advices there
were chosen twelve good men of the country for to wait upon the
two knights. And right as Arthur was on horseback there
came a damosel from Morgan le Fay, and brought unto Sir Arthur a
sword like unto Excalibur, and the scabbard, and said unto
Arthur, Morgan le Fay sendeth here your sword for great love.
And he thanked her, and weened it had been so, but she was false,
for the sword and the scabbard was counterfeit, and brittle, and
false.
AND then they dressed them on both parties of the field, and let
their horses run so fast that either smote other in the midst of
the shield with their spear-heads, that both horse and man went
to the earth; and then they started up both, and pulled out their
swords. The meanwhile that they were thus at the battle, came
the Damosel of the Lake into the field, that put Merlin under the
stone; and she came thither for love of King Arthur, for she knew
how Morgan le Fay had so ordained that King Arthur should have
been slain that day, and therefore she came to save his life.
And so they went eagerly to the battle, and gave many great
strokes, but always Arthur's sword bit not like Accolon's sword;
but for the most part, every stroke that Accolon gave he wounded
sore Arthur, that it was marvel he stood, and always his blood
fell from him fast.
When Arthur beheld the ground so sore be-bled he was dismayed,
and then he deemed treason that his sword was changed; for his
sword bit not steel as it was wont to do, therefore he dreaded
him sore to be dead, for ever him seemed that the sword in
Accolon's hand was Excalibur, for at every stroke that Accolon
struck he drew blood on Arthur. Now, knight, said Accolon unto
Arthur, keep thee well from me; but Arthur answered not again,
and gave him such a buffet on the helm that it made him to stoop,
nigh falling down to the earth. Then Sir Accolon withdrew
him a little, and came on with Excalibur on high, and smote Sir
Arthur such a buffet that he fell nigh to the earth. Then were
they wroth both, and gave each other many sore strokes, but
always Sir Arthur lost so much blood that it was marvel he stood
on his feet, but he was so full of knighthood that knightly he
endured the pain. And Sir Accolon lost not a deal of blood,
therefore he waxed passing light, and Sir Arthur was passing
feeble, and weened verily to have died; but for all that he made
countenance as though he might endure, and held Accolon as short
as he might. But Accolon was so bold because of Excalibur that
he waxed passing hardy. But all men that beheld him said they
saw never knight fight so well as Arthur did considering the
blood that he bled. So was all the people sorry for him, but the
two brethren would not accord. Then always they fought together
as fierce knights, and Sir Arthur withdrew him a little for to
rest him, and Sir Accolon called him to battle and said, It is no
time for me to suffer thee to rest. And therewith he came
fiercely upon Arthur, and Sir Arthur was wroth for the blood that
he had lost, and smote Accolon on high upon the helm, so
mightily, that he made him nigh to fall to the earth; and
therewith Arthur's sword brast at the cross, and fell in the
grass among the blood, and the pommel and the sure handles he
held in his hands. When Sir Arthur saw that, he was in great
fear to die, but always he held up his shield and lost no ground,
nor bated no cheer.
THEN Sir Accolon began with words of treason, and said, Knight,
thou art overcome, and mayst not endure, and also thou art
weaponless, and thou hast lost much of thy blood, and I am full
loath to slay thee, therefore yield thee to me as recreant. Nay,
said Sir Arthur, I may not so, for I have promised to do the
battle to the uttermost by the faith of my body, while me lasteth
the life, and therefore I had liefer to die with honour than to
live with shame; and if it were possible for me to die an hundred
times, I had liefer to die so oft than yield me to thee; for
though I lack weapon, I shall lack no worship, and if thou slay
me weaponless that shall be thy shame. Well, said Accolon, as
for the shame I will not spare, now keep thee from me, for thou
art but a dead man. And therewith Accolon gave him such a stroke
that he fell nigh to the earth, and would have had Arthur to have
cried him mercy. But Sir Arthur pressed unto Accolon with his
shield, and gave him with the pommel in his hand such a buffet
that he went three strides aback.
When the Damosel of the Lake beheld Arthur, how full of prowess
his body was, and the false treason that was wrought for him to
have had him slain, she had great pity that so good a knight and
such a man of worship should so be destroyed. And at the next
stroke Sir Accolon struck him such a stroke that by the damosel's
enchantment the sword Excalibur fell out of Accolon's hand to the
earth. And therewithal Sir Arthur lightly leapt to it, and gat
it in his hand, and forthwithal he knew that it was his sword
Excalibur, and said, Thou hast been from me all too long, and
much damage hast thou done me; and therewith he espied the
scabbard hanging by his side, and suddenly he sterte to him and
pulled the scabbard from him, and threw it from him as far as he
might throw it. O knight, said Arthur, this day hast thou done
me great damage with this sword; now are ye come unto your death,
for I shall not warrant you but ye shall as well be rewarded with
this sword, or ever we depart, as thou hast rewarded me; for much
pain have ye made me to endure, and much blood have I lost. And
therewith Sir Arthur rushed on him with all his might and pulled
him to the earth, and then rushed off his helm, and gave him
such a buffet on the head that the blood came out at his ears,
his nose, and his mouth. Now will I slay thee, said Arthur.
Slay me ye may well, said Accolon, an it please you, for ye are
the best knight that ever I found, and I see well that God is
with you. But for I promised to do this battle, said Accolon, to
the uttermost, and never to be recreant while I lived, therefore
shall I never yield me with my mouth, but God do with my body
what he will. Then Sir Arthur remembered him, and thought he
should have seen this knight. Now tell me, said Arthur, or I
will slay thee, of what country art thou, and of what court? Sir
Knight, said Sir Accolon, I am of the court of King Arthur, and
my name is Accolon of Gaul. Then was Arthur more dismayed than
he was beforehand; for then he remembered him of his sister
Morgan le Fay, and of the enchantment of the ship. O sir knight,
said he, I pray you tell me who gave you this sword, and by whom
ye had it.
THEN Sir Accolon bethought him, and said, Woe worth this sword,
for by it have I got my death. It may well be, said the king.
Now, sir, said Accolon, I will tell you; this sword hath been in
my keeping the most part of this twelvemonth; and Morgan le Fay,
King Uriens' wife, sent it me yesterday by a dwarf, to this
intent, that I should slay King Arthur, her brother. For ye
shall understand King Arthur is the man in the world that she
most hateth, because he is most of worship and of prowess of any
of her blood; also she loveth me out of measure as paramour, and
I her again; and if she might bring about to slay Arthur by her
crafts, she would slay her husband King Uriens lightly, and then
had she me devised to be king in this land, and so to reign,
and she to be my queen; but that is now done, said Accolon, for I
am sure of my death. Well, said Sir Arthur, I feel by you ye
would have been king in this land. It had been great damage to
have destroyed your lord, said Arthur. It is truth, said
Accolon, but now I have told you truth, wherefore I pray you tell
me of whence ye are, and of what court? O Accolon, said King
Arthur, now I let thee wit that I am King Arthur, to whom thou
hast done great damage. When Accolon heard that he cried aloud,
Fair, sweet lord, have mercy on me, for I knew not you. O Sir
Accolon, said King Arthur, mercy shalt thou have, because I feel
by thy words at this time thou knewest not my person; but I
understand well by thy words that thou hast agreed to the death
of my person, and therefore thou art a traitor; but I wite thee
the less, for my sister Morgan le Fay by her false crafts made
thee to agree and consent to her false lusts, but I shall be sore
avenged upon her an I live, that all Christendom shall speak of
it; God knoweth I have honoured her and worshipped her more than
all my kin, and more have I trusted her than mine own wife and
all my kin after.
Then Sir Arthur called the keepers of the field, and said, Sirs,
come hither, for here are we two knights that have fought unto a
great damage unto us both, and like each one of us to have slain
other, if it had happed so; and had any of us known other, here
had been no battle, nor stroke stricken. Then all aloud cried
Accolon unto all the knights and men that were then there
gathered together, and said to them in this manner, O lords, this
noble knight that I have fought withal, the which me sore
repenteth, is the most man of prowess, of manhood, and of worship
in the world, for it is himself King Arthur, our alther liege
lord, and with mishap and with misadventure have I done this
battle with the king and lord that I am holden withal.
THEN all the people fell down on their knees and cried King
Arthur mercy. Mercy shall ye have, said Arthur: here may ye see
what adventures befall ofttime of errant knights, how that I have
fought with a knight of mine own unto my great damage and his
both. But, sirs, because I am sore hurt, and he both, and I had
great need of a little rest, ye shall understand the opinion
betwixt you two brethren: As to thee, Sir Damas, for whom I have
been champion and won the field of this knight, yet will I judge
because ye, Sir Damas, are called an orgulous knight, and full of
villainy, and not worth of prowess your deeds, therefore I will
that ye give unto your brother all the whole manor with the
appurtenance, under this form, that Sir Ontzlake hold the manor
of you, and yearly to give you a palfrey to ride upon, for that
will become you better to ride on than upon a courser. Also I
charge thee, Sir Damas, upon pain of death, that thou never
distress no knights errant that ride on their adventure. And
also that thou restore these twenty knights that thou hast long
kept prisoners, of all their harness, that they be content for;
and if any of them come to my court and complain of thee, by my
head thou shalt die therefore. Also, Sir Ontzlake, as to you,
because ye are named a good knight, and full of prowess, and true
and gentle in all your deeds, this shall be your charge I will
give you, that in all goodly haste ye come unto me and my court,
and ye shall be a knight of mine, and if your deeds be thereafter
I shall so prefer you, by the grace of God, that ye shall in
short time be in ease for to live as worshipfully as your brother
Sir Damas. God thank your largeness of your goodness and of your
bounty, I shall be from henceforward at all times at your
commandment; for, sir, said Sir Ontzlake, as God would, as I
was hurt but late with an adventurous knight through both my
thighs, that grieved me sore, and else had I done this battle
with you. God would, said Arthur, it had been so, for then had
not I been hurt as I am. I shall tell you the cause why: for I
had not been hurt as I am, had it not been mine own sword, that
was stolen from me by treason; and this battle was ordained
aforehand to have slain me, and so it was brought to the purpose
by false treason, and by false enchantment. Alas, said Sir
Ontzlake, that is great pity that ever so noble a man as ye are
of your deeds and prowess, that any man or woman might find in
their hearts to work any treason against you. I shall reward
them, said Arthur, in short time, by the grace of God. Now, tell
me, said Arthur, how far am I from Camelot? Sir, ye are two
days' journey therefrom. I would fain be at some place of
worship, said Sir Arthur, that I might rest me. Sir, said Sir
Ontzlake, hereby is a rich abbey of your elders' foundation, of
nuns, but three miles hence. So the king took his leave of all
the people, and mounted upon horseback, and Sir Accolon with him.
And when they were come to the abbey, he let fetch leeches and
search his wounds and Accolon's both; but Sir Accolon died within
four days, for he had bled so much blood that he might not live,
but King Arthur was well recovered. So when Accolon was dead he
let send him on an horse-bier with six knights unto Camelot, and
said: Bear him to my sister Morgan le Fay, and say that I send
her him to a present, and tell her I have my sword Excalibur and
the scabbard; so they departed with the body.
THE meanwhile Morgan le Fay had weened King Arthur had been dead.
So on a day she espied King Uriens lay in his bed sleeping.
Then she called unto her a maiden of her counsel, and said, Go
fetch me my lord's sword, for I saw never better time to slay him
than now. O madam, said the damosel, an ye slay my lord ye can
never escape. Care not you, said Morgan le Fay, for now I see my
time in the which it is best to do it, and therefore hie thee
fast and fetch me the sword. Then the damosel departed, and
found Sir Uwaine sleeping upon a bed in another chamber, so she
went unto Sir Uwaine, and awaked him, and bade him, Arise, and
wait on my lady your mother, for she will slay the king your
father sleeping in his bed, for I go to fetch his sword. Well,
said Sir Uwaine, go on your way, and let me deal. Anon the
damosel brought Morgan the sword with quaking hands, and she
lightly took the sword, and pulled it out, and went boldly unto
the bed's side, and awaited how and where she might slay him
best. And as she lifted up the sword to smite, Sir Uwaine leapt
unto his mother, and caught her by the hand, and said, Ah, fiend,
what wilt thou do? An thou wert not my mother, with this sword I
should smite off thy head. Ah, said Sir Uwaine, men saith that
Merlin was begotten of a devil, but I may say an earthly devil
bare me. O fair son, Uwaine, have mercy upon me, I was tempted
with a devil, wherefore I cry thee mercy; I will never more do
so; and save my worship and discover me not. On this covenant,
said Sir Uwaine, I will forgive it you, so ye will never be about
to do such deeds. Nay, son, said she, and that I make you
assurance.
THEN came tidings unto Morgan le Fay that Accolon was dead, and
his body brought unto the church, and how King Arthur had
his sword again. But when Queen Morgan wist that Accolon was
dead, she was so sorrowful that near her heart to-brast. But
because she would not it were known, outward she kept her
countenance, and made no semblant of sorrow. But well she wist
an she abode till her brother Arthur came thither, there should
no gold go for her life.
Then she went unto Queen Guenever, and asked her leave to ride
into the country. Ye may abide, said Queen Guenever, till your
brother the king come home. I may not, said Morgan le Fay, for I
have such hasty tidings, that I may not tarry. Well, said
Guenever, ye may depart when ye will. So early on the morn, or
it was day, she took her horse and rode all that day and most
part of the night, and on the morn by noon she came to the same
abbey of nuns whereas lay King Arthur; and she knowing he was
there, she asked where he was. And they answered how he had laid
him in his bed to sleep, for he had had but little rest these
three nights. Well, said she, I charge you that none of you
awake him till I do, and then she alighted off her horse, and
thought for to steal away Excalibur his sword, and so she went
straight unto his chamber, and no man durst disobey her
commandment, and there she found Arthur asleep in his bed, and
Excalibur in his right hand naked. When she saw that she was
passing heavy that she might not come by the sword without she
had awaked him, and then she wist well she had been dead. Then
she took the scabbard and went her way on horseback. When the
king awoke and missed his scabbard, he was wroth, and he asked
who had been there, and they said his sister, Queen Morgan had
been there, and had put the scabbard under her mantle and was
gone. Alas, said Arthur, falsely ye have watched me. Sir, said
they all, we durst not disobey your sister's commandment. Ah,
said the king, let fetch the best horse may be found, and bid Sir
Ontzlake arm him in all haste, and take another good horse and
ride with me. So anon the king and Ontzlake were well armed, and
rode after this lady, and so they came by a cross and found a
cowherd, and they asked the poor man if there came any lady
riding that way. Sir, said this poor man, right late came a lady
riding with a forty horses, and to yonder forest she rode. Then
they spurred their horses, and followed fast, and within a while
Arthur had a sight of Morgan le Fay; then he chased as fast as he
might. When she espied him following her, she rode a greater
pace through the forest till she came to a plain, and when she
saw she might not escape, she rode unto a lake thereby, and said,
Whatsoever come of me, my brother shall not have this scabbard.
And then she let throw the scabbard in the deepest of the water
so it sank, for it was heavy of gold and precious stones.
Then she rode into a valley where many great stones were, and
when she saw she must be overtaken, she shaped herself, horse and
man, by enchantment unto a great marble stone. Anon withal came
Sir Arthur and Sir Ontzlake whereas the king might know his
sister and her men, and one knight from another. Ah, said the
king, here may ye see the vengeance of God, and now am I sorry
that this misadventure is befallen. And then he looked for the
scabbard, but it would not be found, so he returned to the abbey
where he came from. So when Arthur was gone she turned all into
the likeliness as she and they were before, and said, Sirs, now
may we go where we will.
THEN said Morgan, Saw ye Arthur, my brother? Yea, said her
knights, right well, and that ye should have found an we might
have stirred from one stead, for by his armyvestal countenance he
would have caused us to have fled. I believe you, said Morgan.
Anon after as she rode she met a knight leading another knight on
his horse before him, bound hand and foot, blindfold, to have
drowned him in a fountain. When she saw this knight so
bound, she asked him, What will ye do with that knight? Lady,
said he, I will drown him. For what cause? she asked. For I
found him with my wife, and she shall have the same death anon.
That were pity, said Morgan le Fay. Now, what say ye, knight, is
it truth that he saith of you? she said to the knight that should
be drowned. Nay truly, madam, he saith not right on me. Of
whence be ye, said Morgan le Fay, and of what country? I am of
the court of King Arthur, and my name is Manassen, cousin unto
Accolon of Gaul. Ye say well, said she, and for the love of him
ye shall be delivered, and ye shall have your adversary in the
same case ye be in. So Manassen was loosed and the other knight
bound. And anon Manassen unarmed him, and armed himself in his
harness, and so mounted on horseback, and the knight afore him,
and so threw him into the fountain and drowned him. And then he
rode unto Morgan again, and asked if she would anything unto King
Arthur. Tell him that I rescued thee, not for the love of him
but for the love of Accolon, and tell him I fear him not while I
can make me and them that be with me in likeness of stones; and
let him wit I can do much more when I see my time. And so she
departed into the country of Gore, and there was she richly
received, and made her castles and towns passing strong, for
always she dreaded much King Arthur.
When the king had well rested him at the abbey, he rode unto
Camelot, and found his queen and his barons right glad of his
coming. And when they heard of his strange adventures as is
afore rehearsed, then all had marvel of the falsehood of Morgan
le Fay; many knights wished her burnt. Then came Manassen to
court and told the king of his adventure. Well, said the king,
she is a kind sister; I shall so be avenged on her an I live,
that all Christendom shall speak of it. So on the morn there
came a damosel from Morgan to the king, and she brought with her
the richest mantle that ever was seen in that court, for it was
set as full of precious stones as one might stand by another, and
there were the richest stones that ever the king saw. And
the damosel said, Your sister sendeth you this mantle, and
desireth that ye should take this gift of her; and in what thing
she hath offended you, she will amend it at your own pleasure.
When the king beheld this mantle it pleased him much, but he said
but little.
WITH that came the Damosel of the Lake unto the king, and said,
Sir, I must speak with you in privity. Say on, said the king,
what ye will. Sir, said the damosel, put not on you this mantle
till ye have seen more, and in no wise let it not come on you,
nor on no knight of yours, till ye command the bringer thereof to
put it upon her. Well, said King Arthur, it shall be done as ye
counsel me. And then he said unto the damosel that came from his
sister, Damosel, this mantle that ye have brought me, I will see
it upon you. Sir, she said, It will not beseem me to wear a
king's garment. By my head, said Arthur, ye shall wear it or it
come on my back, or any man's that here is. And so the king made
it to be put upon her, and forth withal she fell down dead, and
never more spake word after and burnt to coals. Then was the
king wonderly wroth, more than he was to-forehand, and said unto
King Uriens, My sister, your wife, is alway about to betray me,
and well I wot either ye, or my nephew, your son, is of counsel
with her to have me destroyed; but as for you, said the king to
King Uriens, I deem not greatly that ye be of her counsel, for
Accolon confessed to me by his own mouth, that she would have
destroyed you as well as me, therefore I hold you excused; but as
for your son, Sir Uwaine, I hold him suspect, therefore I charge
you put him out of my court. So Sir Uwaine was discharged. And
when Sir Gawaine wist that, he made him ready to go with
him; and said, Whoso banisheth my cousin-germain shall banish me.
So they two departed, and rode into a great forest, and so they
came to an abbey of monks, and there were well lodged. But when
the king wist that Sir Gawaine was departed from the court, there
was made great sorrow among all the estates. Now, said Gaheris,
Gawaine's brother, we have lost two good knights for the love of
one. So on the morn they heard their masses in the abbey, and so
they rode forth till that they came to a great forest. Then was
Sir Gawaine ware in a valley by a turret [of] twelve fair
damosels, and two knights armed on great horses, and the damosels
went to and fro by a tree. And then was Sir Gawaine ware how
there hung a white shield on that tree, and ever as the damosels
came by it they spit upon it, and some threw mire upon the
shield.
THEN Sir Gawaine and Sir Uwaine went and saluted them, and asked
why they did that despite to the shield. Sir, said the damosels,
we shall tell you. There is a knight in this country that owneth
this white shield, and he is a passing good man of his hands, but
he hateth all ladies and gentlewomen, and therefore we do all
this despite to the shield. I shall say you, said Sir Gawaine,
it beseemeth evil a good knight to despise all ladies and
gentlewomen, and peradventure though he hate you he hath some
certain cause, and peradventure he loveth in some other places
ladies and gentlewomen, and to be loved again, an he be such a
man of prowess as ye speak of. Now, what is his name? Sir, said
they, his name is Marhaus, the king's son of Ireland. I know him
well, said Sir Uwaine, he is a passing good knight as any is
alive, for I saw him once proved at a jousts where many knights
were gathered, and that time there might no man withstand
him. Ah! said Sir Gawaine, damosels, methinketh ye are to blame,
for it is to suppose, he that hung that shield there, he will not
be long therefrom, and then may those knights match him on
horseback, and that is more your worship than thus; for I will
abide no longer to see a knight's shield dishonoured. And
therewith Sir Uwaine and Gawaine departed a little from them, and
then were they ware where Sir Marhaus came riding on a great
horse straight toward them. And when the twelve damosels saw Sir
Marhaus they fled into the turret as they were wild, so that some
of them fell by the way. Then the one of the knights of the
tower dressed his shield, and said on high, Sir Marhaus, defend
thee. And so they ran together that the knight brake his spear
on Marhaus, and Marhaus smote him so hard that he brake his neck
and the horse's back. That saw the other knight of the turret,
and dressed him toward Marhaus, and they met so eagerly together
that the knight of the turret was soon smitten down, horse and
man, stark dead.
AND then Sir Marhaus rode unto his shield, and saw how it was
defouled, and said, Of this despite I am a part avenged, but for
her love that gave me this white shield I shall wear thee, and
hang mine where thou wast; and so he hanged it about his neck.
Then he rode straight unto Sir Gawaine and to Sir Uwaine, and
asked them what they did there? They answered him that they came
from King Arthur's court to see adventures. Well, said Sir
Marhaus, here am I ready, an adventurous knight that will fulfil
any adventure that ye will desire; and so departed from them, to
fetch his range. Let him go, said Sir Uwaine unto Sir
Gawaine, for he is a passing good knight as any is living; I
would not by my will that any of us were matched with him. Nay,
said Sir Gawaine, not so, it were shame to us were he not
assayed, were he never so good a knight. Well, said Sir Uwaine,
I will assay him afore you, for I am more weaker than ye, and if
he smite me down then may ye revenge me. So these two knights
came together with great raundon, that Sir Uwaine smote Sir
Marhaus that his spear brast in pieces on the shield, and Sir
Marhaus smote him so sore that horse and man he bare to the
earth, and hurt Sir Uwaine on the left side.
Then Sir Marhaus turned his horse and rode toward Gawaine with
his spear, and when Sir Gawaine saw that he dressed his shield,
and they aventred their spears, and they came together with all
the might of their horses, that either knight smote other so hard
in midst of their shields, but Sir Gawaine's spear brake, but Sir
Marhaus' spear held; and therewith Sir Gawaine and his horse
rushed down to the earth. And lightly Sir Gawaine rose on his
feet, and pulled out his sword, and dressed him toward Sir
Marhaus on foot, and Sir Marhaus saw that, and pulled out his
sword and began to come to Sir Gawaine on horseback. Sir knight,
said Sir Gawaine, alight on foot, or else I will slay thy horse.
Gramercy, said Sir Marhaus, of your gentleness ye teach me
courtesy, for it is not for one knight to be on foot, and the
other on horseback. And therewith Sir Marhaus set his spear
against a tree and alighted and tied his horse to a tree, and
dressed his shield, and either came unto other eagerly, and smote
together with their swords that their shields flew in cantels,
and they bruised their helms and their hauberks, and wounded
either other. But Sir Gawaine from it passed nine of the clock
waxed ever stronger and stronger, for then it came to the hour of
noon, and thrice his might was increased. All this espied Sir
Marhaus and had great wonder how his might increased, and so they
wounded other passing sore. And then when it was past noon, and
when it drew toward evensong, Sir Gawaine's strength feebled, and
waxed passing faint that unnethes he might dure any longer,
and Sir Marhaus was then bigger and bigger. Sir knight, said Sir
Marhaus, I have well felt that ye are a passing good knight and a
marvellous man of might as ever I felt any, while it lasteth, and
our quarrels are not great, and therefore it were pity to do you
hurt, for I feel ye are passing feeble. Ah, said Sir Gawaine,
gentle knight, ye say the word that I should say. And therewith
they took off their helms, and either kissed other, and there
they swore together either to love other as brethren. And Sir
Marhaus prayed Sir Gawaine to lodge with him that night. And so
they took their horses, and rode toward Sir Marhaus' house. And
as they rode by the way, Sir knight, said Sir Gawaine, I have
marvel that so valiant a man as ye be love no ladies nor
damosels. Sir, said Sir Marhaus, they name me wrongfully those
that give me that name, but well I wot it be the damosels of the
turret that so name me, and other such as they be. Now shall I
tell you for what cause I hate them: for they be sorceresses and
enchanters many of them, and be a knight never so good of his
body and full of prowess as man may be, they will make him a
stark coward to have the better of him, and this is the principal
cause that I hate them; and to all good ladies and gentlewomen I
owe my service as a knight ought to do.
As the book rehearseth in French, there were many knights that
overmatched Sir Gawaine, for all the thrice might that he had:
Sir Launcelot de Lake, Sir Tristram, Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir
Percivale, Sir Pelleas, and Sir Marhaus, these six knights had
the better of Sir Gawaine. Then within a little while they came
to Sir Marhaus' place, which was in a little priory, and there
they alighted, and ladies and damosels unarmed them, and hastily
looked to their hurts, for they were all three hurt. And so they
had all three good lodging with Sir Marhaus, and good cheer; for
when he wist that they were King Arthur's sister's sons he made
them all the cheer that lay in his power, and so they sojourned
there a sennight, and were well eased of their wounds, and at the
last departed. Now, said Sir Marhaus, we will not depart so
lightly, for I will bring you through the forest; and rode
day by day well a seven days or they found any adventure. At the
last they came into a great forest, that was named the country
and forest of Arroy, and the country of strange adventures. In
this country, said Sir Marhaus, came never knight since it was
christened but he found strange adventures; and so they rode, and
came into a deep valley full of stones, and thereby they saw a
fair stream of water; above thereby was the head of the stream a
fair fountain, and three damosels sitting thereby. And then they
rode to them, and either saluted other, and the eldest had a
garland of gold about her head, and she was three score winter of
age or more, and her hair was white under the garland. The
second damosel was of thirty winter of age, with a circlet of
gold about her head. The third damosel was but fifteen year of
age, and a garland of flowers about her head. When these knights
had so beheld them, they asked them the cause why they sat at
that fountain? We be here, said the damosels, for this cause: if
we may see any errant knights, to teach them unto strange
adventures; and ye be three knights that seek adventures, and we
be three damosels, and therefore each one of you must choose one
of us; and when ye have done so we will lead you unto three
highways, and there each of you shall choose a way and his
damosel with him. And this day twelvemonth ye must meet here
again, and God send you your lives, and thereto ye must plight
your troth. This is well said, said Sir Marhaus.
NOW shall everych of us choose a damosel. I shall tell you, said
Sir Uwaine, I am the youngest and most weakest of you both,
therefore I will have the eldest damosel, for she hath seen
much, and can best help me when I have need, for I have most need
of help of you both. Now, said Sir Marhaus, I will have the
damosel of thirty winter age, for she falleth best to me. Well,
said Sir Gawaine, I thank you, for ye have left me the youngest
and the fairest, and she is most liefest to me. Then every
damosel took her knight by the reins of his bridle, and brought
him to the three ways, and there was their oath made to meet at
the fountain that day twelvemonth an they were living, and so
they kissed and departed, and each knight set his lady behind
him. And Sir Uwaine took the way that lay west, and Sir Marhaus
took the way that lay south, and Sir Gawaine took the way that
lay north. Now will we begin at Sir Gawaine, that held that way
till that he came unto a fair manor, where dwelled an old knight
and a good householder, and there Sir Gawaine asked the knight if
he knew any adventures in that country. I shall show you some
to-morn, said the old knight, and that marvellous. So, on the
morn they rode into the forest of adventures to a laund, and
thereby they found a cross, and as they stood and hoved there
came by them the fairest knight and the seemliest man that ever
they saw, making the greatest dole that ever man made. And then
he was ware of Sir Gawaine, and saluted him, and prayed God to
send him much worship. As to that, said Sir Gawaine, gramercy;
also I pray to God that he send you honour and worship. Ah, said
the knight, I may lay that aside, for sorrow and shame cometh to
me after worship.
AND therewith he passed unto the one side of the laund; and on
the other side saw Sir Gawaine ten knights that hoved still and
made them ready with their shields and spears against that one
knight that came by Sir Gawaine.
Then this one knight aventred a great spear, and one of the
ten knights encountered with him, but this woful knight smote him
so hard that he fell over his horse's tail. So this same
dolorous knight served them all, that at the leastway he smote
down horse and man, and all he did with one spear; and so when
they were all ten on foot, they went to that one knight, and he
stood stone still, and suffered them to pull him down off his
horse, and bound him hand and foot, and tied him under the
horse's belly, and so led him with them. O Jesu! said Sir
Gawaine, this is a doleful sight, to see the yonder knight so to
be entreated, and it seemeth by the knight that he suffereth them
to bind him so, for he maketh no resistance. No, said his host,
that is truth, for an he would they all were too weak so to do
him. Sir, said the damosel unto Sir Gawaine, meseemeth it were
your worship to help that dolorous knight, for methinketh he is
one of the best knights that ever I saw. I would do for him,
said Sir Gawaine, but it seemeth he will have no help. Then,
said the damosel, methinketh ye have no lust to help him.
Thus as they talked they saw a knight on the other side of the
laund all armed save the head. And on the other side there came
a dwarf on horseback all armed save the head, with a great mouth
and a short nose; and when the dwarf came nigh he said, Where is
the lady should meet us here? and therewithal she came forth out
of the wood. And then they began to strive for the lady; for the
knight said he would have her, and the dwarf said he would have
her. Will we do well? said the dwarf; yonder is a knight at the
cross, let us put it both upon him, and as he deemeth so shall it
be. I will well, said the knight, and so they went all three
unto Sir Gawaine and told him wherefore they strove. Well, sirs,
said he, will ye put the matter in my hand? Yea, they said both.
Now damosel, said Sir Gawaine, ye shall stand betwixt them both,
and whether ye list better to go to, he shall have you. And when
she was set between them both, she left the knight and went to
the dwarf, and the dwarf took her and went his way singing, and
the knight went his way with great mourning.
Then came there two knights all armed, and cried on high, Sir
Gawaine! knight of King Arthur's, make thee ready in all haste
and joust with me. So they ran together, that either fell down,
and then on foot they drew their swords, and did full actually.
The meanwhile the other knight went to the damosel, and asked her
why she abode with that knight, and if ye would abide with me, I
will be your faithful knight. And with you will I be, said the
damosel, for with Sir Gawaine I may not find in mine heart to be
with him; for now here was one knight discomfited ten knights,
and at the last he was cowardly led away; and therefore let us
two go whilst they fight. And Sir Gawaine fought with that other
knight long, but at the last they accorded both. And then the
knight prayed Sir Gawaine to lodge with him that night. So as
Sir Gawaine went with this knight he asked him, What knight is he
in this country that smote down the ten knights? For when he had
done so manfully he suffered them to bind him hand and foot, and
so led him away. Ah, said the knight, that is the best knight I
trow in the world, and the most man of prowess, and he hath been
served so as he was even more than ten times, and his name hight
Sir Pelleas, and he loveth a great lady in this country and her
name is Ettard. And so when he loved her there was cried in this
country a great jousts three days, and all the knights of this
country were there and gentlewomen, and who that proved him the
best knight should have a passing good sword and a circlet of
gold, and the circlet the knight should give it to the fairest
lady that was at the jousts. And this knight Sir Pelleas was the
best knight that was there, and there were five hundred knights,
but there was never man that ever Sir Pelleas met withal but he
struck him down, or else from his horse; and every day of three
days he struck down twenty knights, therefore they gave him the
prize, and forthwithal he went thereas the Lady Ettard was, and
gave her the circlet, and said openly she was the fairest lady
that there was, and that would he prove upon any knight that
would say nay.
AND so he chose her for his sovereign lady, and never to love
other but her, but she was so proud that she had scorn of him,
and said that she would never love him though he would die for
her. Wherefore all ladies and gentlewomen had scorn of her that
she was so proud, for there were fairer than she, and there was
none that was there but an Sir Pelleas would have proffered them
love, they would have loved him for his noble prowess. And so
this knight promised the Lady Ettard to follow her into this
country, and never to leave her till she loved him. And thus he
is here the most part nigh her, and lodged by a priory, and every
week she sendeth knights to fight with him. And when he hath put
them to the worse, then will he suffer them wilfully to take him
prisoner, because he would have a sight of this lady. And always
she doth him great despite, for sometime she maketh her knights
to tie him to his horse's tail, and some to bind him under the
horse's belly; thus in the most shamefullest ways that she can
think he is brought to her. And all she doth it for to cause him
to leave this country, and to leave his loving; but all this
cannot make him to leave, for an he would have fought on foot he
might have had the better of the ten knights as well on foot as
on horseback. Alas, said Sir Gawaine, it is great pity of him;
and after this night I will seek him to-morrow, in this forest,
to do him all the help I can. So on the morn Sir Gawaine took
his leave of his host Sir Carados, and rode into the forest; and
at the last he met with Sir Pelleas, making great moan out of
measure, so each of them saluted other, and asked him why he made
such sorrow. And as it is above rehearsed, Sir Pelleas told
Sir Gawaine: But always I suffer her knights to fare so with me
as ye saw yesterday, in trust at the last to win her love, for
she knoweth well all her knights should not lightly win me, an me
list to fight with them to the uttermost. Wherefore an I loved
her not so sore, I had liefer die an hundred times, an I might
die so oft, rather than I would suffer that despite; but I trust
she will have pity upon me at the last, for love causeth many a
good knight to suffer to have his entent, but alas I am
unfortunate. And therewith he made so great dole and sorrow that
unnethe he might hold him on horseback.
Now, said Sir Gawaine, leave your mourning and I shall promise
you by the faith of my body to do all that lieth in my power to
get you the love of your lady, and thereto I will plight you my
troth. Ah, said Sir Pelleas, of what court are ye? tell me, I
pray you, my good friend. And then Sir Gawaine said, I am of the
court of King Arthur, and his sister's son, and King Lot of
Orkney was my father, and my name is Sir Gawaine. And then he
said, My name is Sir Pelleas, born in the Isles, and of many
isles I am lord, and never have I loved lady nor damosel till now
in an unhappy time; and, sir knight, since ye are so nigh cousin
unto King Arthur, and a king's son, therefore betray me not but
help me, for I may never come by her but by some good knight, for
she is in a strong castle here, fast by within this four mile,
and over all this country she is lady of. And so I may never
come to her presence, but as I suffer her knights to take me, and
but if I did so that I might have a sight of her, I had been dead
long or this time; and yet fair word had I never of her, but when
I am brought to-fore her she rebuketh me in the foulest manner.
And then they take my horse and harness and put me out of the
gates, and she will not suffer me to eat nor drink; and always I
offer me to be her prisoner, but that she will not suffer me, for
I would desire no more, what pains so ever I had, so that I might
have a sight of her daily. Well, said Sir Gawaine, all this
shall I amend an ye will do as I shall devise: I will have your
horse and your armour, and so will I ride unto her castle
and tell her that I have slain you, and so shall I come within
her to cause her to cherish me, and then shall I do my true part
that ye shall not fail to have the love of her.
AND therewith Sir Gawaine plight his troth unto Sir Pelleas to be
true and faithful unto him; so each one plight their troth to
other, and so they changed horses and harness, and Sir Gawaine
departed, and came to the castle whereas stood the pavilions of
this lady without the gate. And as soon as Ettard had espied Sir
Gawaine she fled in toward the castle. Sir Gawaine spake on
high, and bade her abide, for he was not Sir Pelleas; I am
another knight that have slain Sir Pelleas. Do off your helm,
said the Lady Ettard, that I may see your visage. And so when
she saw that it was not Sir Pelleas, she bade him alight and led
him unto her castle, and asked him faithfully whether he had
slain Sir Pelleas. And he said her yea, and told her his name
was Sir Gawaine of the court of King Arthur, and his sister's
son. Truly, said she, that is great pity, for he was a passing
good knight of his body, but of all men alive I hated him most,
for I could never be quit of him; and for ye have slain him I
shall be your woman, and to do anything that might please you.
So she made Sir Gawaine good cheer. Then Sir Gawaine said that
he loved a lady and by no means she would love him. She is to
blame, said Ettard, an she will not love you, for ye that be so
well born a man, and such a man of prowess, there is no lady in
the world too good for you. Will ye, said Sir Gawaine, promise
me to do all that ye may, by the faith of your body, to get me
the love of my lady? Yea, sir, said she, and that I promise you
by the faith of my body. Now, said Sir Gawaine, it is
yourself that I love so well, therefore I pray you hold your
promise. I may not choose, said the Lady Ettard, but if I should
be forsworn; and so she granted him to fulfil all his desire.
So it was then in the month of May that she and Sir Gawaine went
out of the castle and supped in a pavilion, and there was made a
bed, and there Sir Gawaine and the Lady Ettard went to bed
together, and in another pavilion she laid her damosels, and in
the third pavilion she laid part of her knights, for then she had
no dread of Sir Pelleas. And there Sir Gawaine lay with her in
that pavilion two days and two nights. And on the third day, in
the morning early, Sir Pelleas armed him, for he had never slept
since Sir Gawaine departed from him; for Sir Gawaine had promised
him by the faith of his body, to come to him unto his pavilion by
that priory within the space of a day and a night.
Then Sir Pelleas mounted upon horseback, and came to the
pavilions that stood without the castle, and found in the first
pavilion three knights in three beds, and three squires lying at
their feet. Then went he to the second pavilion and found four
gentlewomen lying in four beds. And then he yede to the third
pavilion and found Sir Gawaine lying in bed with his Lady Ettard,
and either clipping other in arms, and when he saw that his heart
well-nigh brast for sorrow, and said: Alas! that ever a knight
should be found so false; and then he took his horse and might
not abide no longer for pure sorrow. And when he had ridden nigh
half a mile he turned again and thought to slay them both; and
when he saw them both so lie sleeping fast, unnethe he might hold
him on horseback for sorrow, and said thus to himself, Though
this knight be never so false, I will never slay him sleeping,
for I will never destroy the high order of knighthood; and
therewith he departed again. And or he had ridden half a mile he
returned again, and thought then to slay them both, making the
greatest sorrow that ever man made. And when he came to the
pavilions, he tied his horse unto a tree, and pulled out his
sword naked in his hand, and went to them thereas they lay, and
yet he thought it were shame to slay them sleeping, and laid the
naked sword overthwart both their throats, and so took his horse
and rode his way.
And when Sir Pelleas came to his pavilions he told his knights
and his squires how he had sped, and said thus to them, For your
true and good service ye have done me I shall give you all my
goods, for I will go unto my bed and never arise until I am dead.
And when that I am dead I charge you that ye take the heart out
of my body and bear it her betwixt two silver dishes, and tell
her how I saw her lie with the false knight Sir Gawaine. Right
so Sir Pelleas unarmed himself, and went unto his bed making
marvellous dole and sorrow.
When Sir Gawaine and Ettard awoke of their sleep, and found the
naked sword overthwart their throats, then she knew well it was
Sir Pelleas' sword. Alas! said she to Sir Gawaine, ye have
betrayed me and Sir Pelleas both, for ye told me ye had slain
him, and now I know well it is not so, he is alive. And if Sir
Pelleas had been as uncourteous to you as ye have been to him ye
had been a dead knight; but ye have deceived me and betrayed me
falsely, that all ladies and damosels may beware by you and me.
And therewith Sir Gawaine made him ready, and went into the
forest. So it happed then that the Damosel of the Lake, Nimue,
met with a knight of Sir Pelleas, that went on his foot in the
forest making great dole, and she asked him the cause. And so
the woful knight told her how his master and lord was betrayed
through a knight and lady, and how he will never arise out of his
bed till he be dead. Bring me to him, said she anon, and I will
warrant his life he shall not die for love, and she that hath
caused him so to love, she shall be in as evil plight as he is or
it be long to, for it is no joy of such a proud lady that will
have no mercy of such a valiant knight. Anon that knight brought
her unto him, and when she saw him lie in his bed, she thought
she saw never so likely a knight; and therewith she threw an
enchantment upon him, and he fell asleep. And therewhile
she rode unto the Lady Ettard, and charged no man to awake him
till she came again. So within two hours she brought the Lady
Ettard thither, and both ladies found him asleep: Lo, said the
Damosel of the Lake, ye ought to be ashamed for to murder such a
knight. And therewith she threw such an enchantment upon her
that she loved him sore, that well-nigh she was out of her mind.
O Lord Jesu, said the Lady Ettard, how is it befallen unto me
that I love now him that I have most hated of any man alive?
That is the righteous judgment of God, said the damosel. And
then anon Sir Pelleas awaked and looked upon Ettard; and when he
saw her he knew her, and then he hated her more than any woman
alive, and said: Away, traitress, come never in my sight. And
when she heard him say so, she wept and made great sorrow out of
measure.
SIR KNIGHT PELLEAS, said the Damosel of the Lake, take your horse
and come forth with me out of this country, and ye shall love a
lady that shall love you. I will well, said Sir Pelleas, for
this Lady Ettard hath done me great despite and shame, and there
he told her the beginning and ending, and how he had purposed
never to have arisen till that he had been dead. And now such
grace God hath sent me, that I hate her as much as ever I loved
her, thanked be our Lord Jesus! Thank me, said the Damosel of
the Lake. Anon Sir Pelleas armed him, and took his horse, and
commanded his men to bring after his pavilions and his stuff
where the Damosel of the Lake would assign. So the Lady Ettard
died for sorrow, and the Damosel of the Lake rejoiced Sir
Pelleas, and loved together during their life days.
NOW turn we unto Sir Marhaus, that rode with the damosel of
thirty winter of age, southward. And so they came into a deep
forest, and by fortune they were nighted, and rode long in a deep
way, and at the last they came unto a courtelage, and there they
asked harbour. But the man of the courtelage would not lodge
them for no treatise that they could treat, but thus much the
good man said, An ye will take the adventure of your lodging, I
shall bring you where ye shall be lodged. What adventure is that
that I shall have for my lodging? said Sir Marhaus. Ye shall wit
when ye come there, said the good man. Sir, what adventure so it
be, bring me thither I pray thee, said Sir Marhaus; for I am
weary, my damosel, and my horse. So the good man went and opened
the gate, and within an hour he brought him unto a fair castle,
and then the poor man called the porter, and anon he was let into
the castle, and so he told the lord how he brought him a knight
errant and a damosel that would be lodged with him. Let him in,
said the lord, it may happen he shall repent that they took their
lodging here.
So Sir Marhaus was let in with torchlight, and there was a goodly
sight of young men that welcomed him. And then his horse was led
into the stable, and he and the damosel were brought into the
hall, and there stood a mighty duke and many goodly men about
him. Then this lord asked him what he hight, and from whence he
came, and with whom he dwelt. Sir, he said, I am a knight of
King Arthur's and knight of the Table Round, and my name is Sir
Marhaus, and born I am in Ireland. And then said the duke to
him, That me sore repenteth: the cause is this, for I love not
thy lord nor none of thy fellows of the Table Round; and
therefore ease thyself this night as well as thou mayest, for as
to-morn I and my six sons shall match with you. Is there no
remedy but that I must have ado with you and your six sons at
once? said Sir Marhaus. No, said the duke, for this cause I made
mine avow, for Sir Gawaine slew my seven sons in a recounter,
therefore I made mine avow, there should never knight of King
Arthur's court lodge with me, or come thereas I might have ado
with him, but that I would have a revenging of my sons' death.
What is your name? said Sir Marhaus; I require you tell me, an it
please you. Wit thou well I am the Duke of South Marches. Ah,
said Sir Marhaus, I have heard say that ye have been long time a
great foe unto my lord Arthur and to his knights. That shall ye
feel to-morn, said the duke. Shall I have ado with you? said Sir
Marhaus. Yea, said the duke, thereof shalt thou not choose, and
therefore take you to your chamber, and ye shall have all that to
you longeth. So Sir Marhaus departed and was led to a chamber,
and his damosel was led unto her chamber. And on the morn the
duke sent unto Sir Marhaus and bade make him ready. And so Sir
Marhaus arose and armed him, and then there was a mass sung afore
him, and brake his fast, and so mounted on horseback in the court
of the castle where they should do the battle. So there was the
duke all ready on horseback, clean armed, and his six sons by
him, and everych had a spear in his hand, and so they
encountered, whereas the duke and his two sons brake their spears
upon him, but Sir Marhaus held up his spear and touched none of
them.
THEN came the four sons by couple, and two of them brake their
spears, and so did the other two. And all this while Sir
Marhaus touched them not. Then Sir Marhaus ran to the duke, and
smote him with his spear that horse and man fell to the earth,
and so he served his sons; and then Sir Marhaus alighted down and
bade the duke yield him or else he would slay him. And then some
of his sons recovered, and would have set upon Sir Marhaus; then
Sir Marhaus said to the duke, Cease thy sons, or else I will do
the uttermost to you all. Then the duke saw he might not escape
the death, he cried to his sons, and charged them to yield them
to Sir Marhaus; and they kneeled all down and put the pommels of
their swords to the knight, and so he received them. And then
they helped up their father, and so by their cominal assent
promised to Sir Marhaus never to be foes unto King Arthur, and
thereupon at Whitsuntide after to come, he and his sons, and put
them in the king's grace.
Then Sir Marhaus departed, and within two days his damosel
brought him whereas was a great tournament that the Lady de Vawse
had cried. And who that did best should have a rich circlet of
gold worth a thousand besants. And there Sir Marhaus did so
nobly that he was renowned, and had sometime down forty knights,
and so the circlet of gold was rewarded him. Then he departed
from them with great worship; and so within seven nights his
damosel brought him to an earl's place, his name was the Earl
Fergus, that after was Sir Tristram's knight; and this earl was
but a young man, and late come into his lands, and there was a
giant fast by him that hight Taulurd, and he had another brother
in Cornwall that hight Taulas, that Sir Tristram slew when he was
out of his mind. So this earl made his complaint unto Sir
Marhaus, that there was a giant by him that destroyed all his
lands, and how he durst nowhere ride nor go for him. Sir, said
the knight, whether useth he to fight on horseback or on foot?
Nay, said the earl, there may no horse bear him. Well, said Sir
Marhaus, then will I fight with him on foot; so on the morn Sir
Marhaus prayed the earl that one of his men might bring him
whereas the giant was; and so he was, for he saw him sit
under a tree of holly, and many clubs of iron and gisarms about
him. So this knight dressed him to the giant, putting his shield
afore him, and the giant took an iron club in his hand, and at
the first stroke he clave Sir Marhaus' shield in two pieces. And
there he was in great peril, for the giant was a wily fighter,
but at last Sir Marhaus smote off his right arm above the elbow.
Then the giant fled and the knight after him, and so he drove him
into a water, but the giant was so high that he might not wade
after him. And then Sir Marhaus made the Earl Fergus' man to
fetch him stones, and with those stones the knight gave the giant
many sore knocks, till at the last he made him fall down into the
water, and so was he there dead. Then Sir Marhaus went unto the
giant's castle, and there he delivered twenty-four ladies and
twelve knights out of the giant's prison, and there he had great
riches without number, so that the days of his life he was never
poor man. Then he returned to the Earl Fergus, the which thanked
him greatly, and would have given him half his lands, but he
would none take. So Sir Marhaus dwelled with the earl nigh half
a year, for he was sore bruised with the giant, and at the last
he took his leave. And as he rode by the way, he met with Sir
Gawaine and Sir Uwaine, and so by adventure he met with four
knights of Arthur's court, the first was Sir Sagramore le
Desirous, Sir Osanna, Sir Dodinas le Savage, and Sir Felot of
Listinoise; and there Sir Marhaus with one spear smote down these
four knights, and hurt them sore. So he departed to meet at his
day aforeset.
NOW turn we unto Sir Uwaine, that rode westward with his damosel
of three score winter of age, and she brought him thereas
was a tournament nigh the march of Wales. And at that tournament
Sir Uwaine smote down thirty knights, therefore was given him the
prize, and that was a gerfalcon, and a white steed trapped with
cloth of gold. So then Sir Uwaine did many strange adventures by
the means of the old damosel, and so she brought him to a lady
that was called the Lady of the Rock, the which was much
courteous. So there were in the country two knights that were
brethren, and they were called two perilous knights, the one
knight hight Sir Edward of the Red Castle, and the other Sir Hue
of the Red Castle; and these two brethren had disherited the Lady
of the Rock of a barony of lands by their extortion. And as this
knight was lodged with this lady she made her complaint to him of
these two knights.
Madam, said Sir Uwaine, they are to blame, for they do against
the high order of knighthood, and the oath that they made; and if
it like you I will speak with them, because I am a knight of King
Arthur's, and I will entreat them with fairness; and if they will
not, I shall do battle with them, and in the defence of your
right. Gramercy said the lady, and thereas I may not acquit you,
God shall. So on the morn the two knights were sent for, that
they should come thither to speak with the Lady of the Rock, and
wit ye well they failed not, for they came with an hundred horse.
But when this lady saw them in this manner so big, she would not
suffer Sir Uwaine to go out to them upon no surety nor for no
fair language, but she made him speak with them over a tower, but
finally these two brethren would not be entreated, and answered
that they would keep that they had. Well, said Sir Uwaine, then
will I fight with one of you, and prove that ye do this lady
wrong. That will we not, said they, for an we do battle, we two
will fight with one knight at once, and therefore if ye will
fight so, we will be ready at what hour ye will assign. And if
ye win us in battle the lady shall have her lands again. Ye say
well, said Sir Uwaine, therefore make you ready so that ye be
here to-morn in the defence of the lady's right.
SO was there sikerness made on both parties that no treason
should be wrought on neither party; so then the knights departed
and made them ready, and that night Sir Uwaine had great cheer.
And on the morn he arose early and heard mass, and brake his
fast, and so he rode unto the plain without the gates, where
hoved the two brethren abiding him. So they rode together
passing sore, that Sir Edward and Sir Hue brake their spears upon
Sir Uwaine. And Sir Uwaine smote Sir Edward that he fell over
his horse and yet his spear brast not. And then he spurred his
horse and came upon Sir Hue and overthrew him, but they soon
recovered and dressed their shields and drew their swords and
bade Sir Uwaine alight and do his battle to the uttermost. Then
Sir Uwaine devoided his horse suddenly, and put his shield afore
him and drew his sword, and so they dressed together, and either
gave other such strokes, and there these two brethren wounded Sir
Uwaine passing grievously that the Lady of the Rock weened he
should have died. And thus they fought together five hours as
men raged out of reason. And at the last Sir Uwaine smote Sir
Edward upon the helm such a stroke that his sword carved unto his
canel bone, and then Sir Hue abated his courage, but Sir Uwaine
pressed fast to have slain him. That saw Sir Hue: he kneeled
down and yielded him to Sir Uwaine. And he of his gentleness
received his sword, and took him by the hand, and went into the
castle together. Then the Lady of the Rock was passing glad, and
the other brother made great sorrow for his brother's death.
Then the lady was restored of all her lands, and Sir Hue was
commanded to be at the court of King Arthur at the next feast of
Pentecost. So Sir Uwaine dwelt with the lady nigh half a year,
for it was long or he might be whole of his great hurts.
And so when it drew nigh the term-day that Sir Gawaine, Sir
Marhaus, and Sir Uwaine should meet at the cross-way, then every
knight drew him thither to hold his promise that they had made;
and Sir Marhaus and Sir Uwaine brought their damosels with them,
but Sir Gawaine had lost his damosel, as it is afore rehearsed.
RIGHT so at the twelvemonths' end they met all three knights at
the fountain and their damosels, but the damosel that Sir Gawaine
had could say but little worship of him so they departed from the
damosels and rode through a great forest, and there they met with
a messenger that came from King Arthur, that had sought them
well-nigh a twelvemonth throughout all England, Wales, and
Scotland, and charged if ever he might find Sir Gawaine and Sir
Uwaine to bring them to the court again. And then were they all
glad, and so prayed they Sir Marhaus to ride with them to the
king's court. And so within twelve days they came to Camelot,
and the king was passing glad of their coming, and so was all the
court. Then the king made them to swear upon a book to tell him
all their adventures that had befallen them that twelvemonth, and
so they did. And there was Sir Marhaus well known, for there
were knights that he had matched aforetime, and he was named one
of the best knights living.
Against the feast of Pentecost came the Damosel of the Lake and
brought with her Sir Pelleas; and at that high feast there was
great jousting of knights, and of all knights that were at that
jousts, Sir Pelleas had the prize, and Sir Marhaus was named the
next; but Sir Pelleas was so strong there might but few knights
sit him a buffet with a spear. And at that next feast Sir
Pelleas and Sir Marhaus were made knights of the Table Round, for
there were two sieges void, for two knights were slain that
twelvemonth, and great joy had King Arthur of Sir Pelleas and of
Sir Marhaus. But Pelleas loved never after Sir Gawaine, but as
he spared him for the love of King Arthur; but ofttimes at jousts
and tournaments Sir Pelleas quit Sir Gawaine, for so it
rehearseth in the book of French. So Sir Tristram many days
after fought with Sir Marhaus in an island, and there they did a
great battle, but at the last Sir Tristram slew him, so Sir
Tristram was wounded that unnethe he might recover, and lay at a
nunnery half a year. And Sir Pelleas was a worshipful knight,
and was one of the four that achieved the Sangreal, and the
Damosel of the Lake made by her means that never he had ado with
Sir Launcelot de Lake, for where Sir Launcelot was at any jousts
or any tournament, she would not suffer him be there that day,
but if it were on the side of Sir Launcelot.
WHEN King Arthur had after long war rested, and held a royal
feast and Table Round with his allies of kings, princes, and
noble knights all of the Round Table, there came into his hall,
he sitting in his throne royal, twelve ancient men, bearing each
of them a branch of olive, in token that they came as ambassadors
and messengers from the Emperor Lucius, which was called at that
time, Dictator or Procuror of the Public Weal of Rome. Which
said messengers, after their entering and coming into the
presence of King Arthur, did to him their obeisance in making to
him reverence, and said to him in this wise: The high and mighty
Emperor Lucius sendeth to the King of Britain greeting,
commanding thee to acknowledge him for thy lord, and to send him
the truage due of this realm unto the Empire, which thy father
and other to-fore thy precessors have paid as is of record, and
thou as rebel not knowing him as thy sovereign, withholdest and
retainest contrary to the statutes and decrees made by the noble
and worthy Julius Cesar, conqueror of this realm, and first
Emperor of Rome. And if thou refuse his demand and commandment
know thou for certain that he shall make strong war against thee,
thy realms and lands, and shall chastise thee and thy subjects,
that it shall be ensample perpetual unto all kings and princes,
for to deny their truage unto that noble empire which
domineth upon the universal world. Then when they had showed the
effect of their message, the king commanded them to withdraw
them, and said he should take advice of council and give to them
an answer. Then some of the young knights, hearing this their
message, would have run on them to have slain them, saying that
it was a rebuke to all the knights there being present to suffer
them to say so to the king. And anon the king commanded that
none of them, upon pain of death, to missay them nor do them any
harm, and commanded a knight to bring them to their lodging, and
see that they have all that is necessary and requisite for them,
with the best cheer, and that no dainty be spared, for the Romans
be great lords, and though their message please me not nor my
court, yet I must remember mine honour.
After this the king let call all his lords and knights of the
Round Table to counsel upon this matter, and desired them to say
their advice. Then Sir Cador of Cornwall spake first and said,
Sir, this message liketh me well, for we have many days rested us
and have been idle, and now I hope ye shall make sharp war on the
Romans, where I doubt not we shall get honour. I believe well,
said Arthur, that this matter pleaseth thee well, but these
answers may not be answered, for the demand grieveth me sore, for
truly I will never pay truage to Rome, wherefore I pray you to
counsel me. I have understood that Belinus and Brenius, kings of
Britain, have had the empire in their hands many days, and also
Constantine the son of Heleine, which is an open evidence that we
owe no tribute to Rome but of right we that be descended of them
have right to claim the title of the empire.
THEN answered King Anguish of Scotland, Sir, ye ought of right to
be above all other kings, for unto you is none like nor pareil in
Christendom, of knighthood nor of dignity, and I counsel you
never to obey the Romans, for when they reigned on us they
distressed our elders, and put this land to great extortions and
tallies, wherefore I make here mine avow to avenge me on them;
and for to strengthen your quarrel I shall furnish twenty
thousand good men of war, and wage them on my costs, which shall
await on you with myself when it shall please you. And the king
of Little Britain granted him to the same thirty thousand;
wherefore King Arthur thanked them. And then every man agreed to
make war, and to aid after their power; that is to wit, the lord
of West Wales promised to bring thirty thousand men, and Sir
Uwaine, Sir Ider his son, with their cousins, promised to bring
thirty thousand. Then Sir Launcelot with all other promised in
likewise every man a great multitude.
And when King Arthur understood their courages and good wills he
thanked them heartily, and after let call the ambassadors to hear
their answer. And in presence of all his lords and knights he
said to them in this wise: I will that ye return unto your lord
and Procuror of the Common Weal for the Romans, and say ye to
him, Of his demand and commandment I set nothing, and that I know
of no truage nor tribute that I owe to him, nor to none earthly
prince, Christian nor heathen; but I pretend to have and occupy
the sovereignty of the empire, wherein I am entitled by the right
of my predecessors, sometime kings of this land; and say to him
that I am delibered and fully concluded, to go with mine army
with strength and power unto Rome, by the grace of God, to take
possession in the empire and subdue them that be rebel.
Wherefore I command him and all them of Rome, that incontinent
they make to me their homage, and to acknowledge me for their
Emperor and Governor, upon pain that shall ensue. And then he
commanded his treasurer to give to them great and large gifts,
and to pay all their dispenses, and assigned Sir Cador to convey
them out of the land. And so they took their leave and departed,
and took their shipping at Sandwich, and passed forth by
Flanders, Almaine, the mountains, and all Italy, until they came
unto Lucius. And after the reverence made, they made relation of
their answer, like as ye to-fore have heard.
When the Emperor Lucius had well understood their credence, he
was sore moved as he had been all araged, and said, I had
supposed that Arthur would have obeyed to my commandment, and
have served you himself, as him well beseemed or any other king
to do. O Sir, said one of the senators, let be such vain words,
for we let you wit that I and my fellows were full sore afeard to
behold his countenance; I fear me ye have made a rod for
yourself, for he intendeth to be lord of this empire, which sore
is to be doubted if he come, for he is all another man than ye
ween, and holdeth the most noble court of the world, all other
kings nor princes may not compare unto his noble maintenance. On
New Year's Day we saw him in his estate, which was the royalest
that ever we saw, for he was served at his table with nine kings,
and the noblest fellowship of other princes, lords, and knights
that be in the world, and every knight approved and like a lord,
and holdeth Table Round: and in his person the most manly man
that liveth, and is like to conquer all the world, for unto his
courage it is too little: wherefore I advise you to keep well
your marches and straits in the mountains; for certainly he is a
lord to be doubted. Well, said Lucius, before Easter I suppose
to pass the mountains, and so forth into France, and there
bereave him his lands with Genoese and other mighty warriors of
Tuscany and Lombardy. And I shall send for them all that be
subjects and allied to the empire of Rome to come to mine
aid. And forthwith sent old wise knights unto these countries
following: first to Ambage and Arrage, to Alexandria, to India,
to Armenia, whereas the river of Euphrates runneth into Asia, to
Africa, and Europe the Large, to Ertayne and Elamye, to Araby,
Egypt, and to Damascus, to Damietta and Cayer, to Cappadocia, to
Tarsus, Turkey, Pontus and Pamphylia, to Syria and Galatia. And
all these were subject to Rome and many more, as Greece, Cyprus,
Macedonia, Calabria, Cateland, Portugal, with many thousands of
Spaniards. Thus all these kings, dukes, and admirals, assembled
about Rome, with sixteen kings at once, with great multitude of
people. When the emperor understood their coming he made ready
his Romans and all the people between him and Flanders.
Also he had gotten with him fifty giants which had been
engendered of fiends; and they were ordained to guard his person,
and to break the front of the battle of King Arthur. And thus
departed from Rome, and came down the mountains for to destroy
the lands that Arthur had conquered, and came unto Cologne, and
besieged a castle thereby, and won it soon, and stuffed it with
two hundred Saracens or Infidels, and after destroyed many fair
countries which Arthur had won of King Claudas. And thus Lucius
came with all his host, which were disperplyd sixty mile in
breadth, and commanded them to meet with him in Burgoyne, for he
purposed to destroy the realm of Little Britain.
NOW leave we of Lucius the Emperor and speak we of King Arthur,
that commanded all them of his retinue to be ready at the utas of
Hilary for to hold a parliament at York. And at that
parliament was concluded to arrest all the navy of the land, and
to be ready within fifteen days at Sandwich, and there he showed
to his army how he purposed to conquer the empire which he ought
to have of right. And there he ordained two governors of this
realm, that is to say, Sir Baudwin of Britain, for to counsel to
the best, and Sir Constantine, son to Sir Cador of Cornwall,
which after the death of Arthur was king of this realm. And in
the presence of all his lords he resigned the rule of the realm
and Guenever his queen to them, wherefore Sir Launcelot was
wroth, for he left Sir Tristram with King Mark for the love of
Beale Isould. Then the Queen Guenever made great sorrow for the
departing of her lord and other, and swooned in such wise that
the ladies bare her into her chamber. Thus the king with his
great army departed, leaving the queen and realm in the
governance of Sir Baudwin and Constantine. And when he was on
his horse he said with an high voice, If I die in this journey I
will that Sir Constantine be mine heir and king crowned of this
realm as next of my blood. And after departed and entered into
the sea at Sandwich with all his army, with a great multitude of
ships, galleys, cogs, and dromounds, sailing on the sea.
AND as the king lay in his cabin in the ship, he fell in a
slumbering and dreamed a marvellous dream: him seemed that a
dreadful dragon did drown much of his people, and he came flying
out of the west, and his head was enamelled with azure, and his
shoulders shone as gold, his belly like mails of a marvellous
hue, his tail full of tatters, his feet full of fine sable, and
his claws like fine gold; and an hideous flame of fire flew out
of his mouth, like as the land and water had flamed all of
fire. After, him seemed there came out of the orient, a grimly
boar all black in a cloud, and his paws as big as a post; he was
rugged looking roughly, he was the foulest beast that ever man
saw, he roared and romed so hideously that it were marvel to
hear. Then the dreadful dragon advanced him and came in the wind
like a falcon giving great strokes on the boar, and the boar hit
him again with his grizzly tusks that his breast was all bloody,
and that the hot blood made all the sea red of his blood. Then
the dragon flew away all on an height, and came down with such a
swough, and smote the boar on the ridge, which was ten foot large
from the head to the tail, and smote the boar all to powder both
flesh and bones, that it flittered all abroad on the sea.
And therewith the king awoke anon, and was sore abashed of this
dream, and sent anon for a wise philosopher, commanding to tell
him the signification of his dream. Sir, said the philosopher,
the dragon that thou dreamedst of betokeneth thine own person
that sailest here, and the colours of his wings be thy realms
that thou hast won, and his tail which is all to-tattered
signifieth the noble knights of the Round Table; and the boar
that the dragon slew coming from the clouds betokeneth some
tyrant that tormenteth the people, or else thou art like to fight
with some giant thyself, being horrible and abominable, whose
peer ye saw never in your days, wherefore of this dreadful dream
doubt thee nothing, but as a conqueror come forth thyself.
Then after this soon they had sight of land, and sailed till they
arrived at Barflete in Flanders, and when they were there he
found many of his great lords ready, as they had been commanded
to wait upon him.
THEN came to him an husbandman of the country, and told him how
there was in the country of Constantine beside Brittany, a great
giant which had slain, murdered and devoured much people of the
country, and had been sustained seven year with the children of
the commons of that land, insomuch that all the children be all
slain and destroyed; and now late he hath taken the Duchess of
Brittany as she rode with her meiny, and hath led her to his
lodging which is in a mountain, for to ravish and lie by her to
her life's end, and many people followed her, more than five
hundred, but all they might not rescue her, but they left her
shrieking and crying lamentably, wherefore I suppose that he hath
slain her in fulfilling his foul lust of lechery. She was wife
unto thy cousin Sir Howell, whom we call full nigh of thy blood.
Now, as thou art a rightful king, have pity on this lady, and
revenge us all as thou art a noble conqueror. Alas, said King
Arthur, this is a great mischief, I had liefer than the best
realm that I have that I had been a furlong way to-fore him for
to have rescued that lady. Now, fellow, said King Arthur, canst
thou bring me thereas this giant haunteth? Yea, Sir, said the
good man, look yonder whereas thou seest those two great fires,
there shalt thou find him, and more treasure than I suppose is in
all France. When the king had understood this piteous case, he
returned into his tent.
Then he called to him Sir Kay and Sir Bedivere, and commanded
them secretly to make ready horse and harness for himself and
them twain; for after evensong he would ride on pilgrimage with
them two only unto Saint Michael's mount. And then anon he made
him ready, and armed him at all points, and took his horse and
his shield. And so they three departed thence and rode
forth as fast as ever they might till that they came to the
foreland of that mount. And there they alighted, and the king
commanded them to tarry there, for he would himself go up into
that mount. And so he ascended up into that hill till he came to
a great fire, and there he found a careful widow wringing her
hands and making great sorrow, sitting by a grave new made. And
then King Arthur saluted her, and demanded of her wherefore she
made such lamentation, to whom she answered and said, Sir knight,
speak soft, for yonder is a devil, if he hear thee speak he will
come and destroy thee; I hold thee unhappy; what dost thou here
in this mountain? for if ye were such fifty as ye be, ye were not
able to make resistance against this devil: here lieth a duchess
dead, the which was the fairest of all the world, wife to Sir
Howell, Duke of Brittany, he hath murdered her in forcing her,
and hath slit her unto the navel.
Dame, said the king, I come from the noble conqueror King Arthur,
for to treat with that tyrant for his liege people. Fie on such
treaties, said she, he setteth not by the king nor by no man
else; but an if thou have brought Arthur's wife, dame Guenever,
he shall be gladder than thou hadst given to him half France.
Beware, approach him not too nigh, for he hath vanquished fifteen
kings, and hath made him a coat full of precious stones
embroidered with their beards, which they sent him to have his
love for salvation of their people at this last Christmas. And
if thou wilt, speak with him at yonder great fire at supper.
Well, said Arthur, I will accomplish my message for all your
fearful words; and went forth by the crest of that hill, and saw
where he sat at supper gnawing on a limb of a man, baking his
broad limbs by the fire, and breechless, and three fair damosels
turning three broaches whereon were broached twelve young
children late born, like young birds.
When King Arthur beheld that piteous sight he had great
compassion on them, so that his heart bled for sorrow, and hailed
him, saying in this wise: He that all the world wieldeth
give thee short life and shameful death; and the devil have thy
soul; why hast thou murdered these young innocent children, and
murdered this duchess? Therefore, arise and dress thee, thou
glutton, for this day shalt thou die of my hand. Then the
glutton anon started up, and took a great club in his hand, and
smote at the king that his coronal fell to the earth. And the
king hit him again that he carved his belly and cut off his
genitours, that his guts and his entrails fell down to the
ground. Then the giant threw away his club, and caught the king
in his arms that he crushed his ribs. Then the three maidens
kneeled down and called to Christ for help and comfort of Arthur.
And then Arthur weltered and wrung, that he was other while under
and another time above. And so weltering and wallowing they
rolled down the hill till they came to the sea mark, and ever as
they so weltered Arthur smote him with his dagger.
And it fortuned they came to the place whereas the two knights
were and kept Arthur's horse; then when they saw the king fast in
the giant's arms they came and loosed him. And then the king
commanded Sir Kay to smite off the giant's head, and to set it
upon a truncheon of a spear, and bear it to Sir Howell, and tell
him that his enemy was slain; and after let this head be bound to
a barbican that all the people may see and behold it; and go ye
two up to the mountain, and fetch me my shield, my sword, and the
club of iron; and as for the treasure, take ye it, for ye shall
find there goods out of number; so I have the kirtle and the club
I desire no more. This was the fiercest giant that ever I met
with, save one in the mount of Araby, which I overcame, but this
was greater and fiercer. Then the knights fetched the club and
the kirtle, and some of the treasure they took to themselves, and
returned again to the host. And anon this was known through all
the country, wherefore the people came and thanked the king. And
he said again, Give the thanks to God, and depart the goods among
you.
And after that King Arthur said and commanded his cousin
Howell, that he should ordain for a church to be builded on the
same hill in the worship of Saint Michael. And on the morn the
king removed with his great battle, and came into Champayne and
in a valley, and there they pight their tents; and the king being
set at his dinner, there came in two messengers, of whom that one
was Marshal of France, and said to the king that the emperor was
entered into France, and had destroyed a great part, and was in
Burgoyne, and had destroyed and made great slaughter of people,
and burnt towns and boroughs; wherefore, if thou come not
hastily, they must yield up their bodies and goods.
THEN the king did do call Sir Gawaine, Sir Bors, Sir Lionel, and
Sir Bedivere, and commanded them to go straight to Sir Lucius,
and say ye to him that hastily he remove out of my land; and if
he will not, bid him make him ready to battle and not distress
the poor people. Then anon these noble knights dressed them to
horseback, and when they came to the green wood, they saw many
pavilions set in a meadow, of silk of divers colours, beside a
river, and the emperor's pavilion was in the middle with an eagle
displayed above. To the which tent our knights rode toward, and
ordained Sir Gawaine and Sir Bors to do the message, and left in
a bushment Sir Lionel and Sir Bedivere. And then Sir Gawaine and
Sir Bors did their message, and commanded Lucius, in Arthur's
name to avoid his land, or shortly to address him to battle. To
whom Lucius answered and said, Ye shall return to your lord, and
say ye to him that I shall subdue him and all his lands. Then
Sir Gawaine was wroth and said, I had liefer than all France
fight against thee; and so had I, said Sir Bors, liefer than all
Brittany or Burgoyne.
Then a knight named Sir Gainus, nigh cousin to the emperor, said,
Lo, how these Britons be full of pride and boast, and they brag
as though they bare up all the world. Then Sir Gawaine was sore
grieved with these words, and pulled out his sword and smote off
his head. And therewith turned their horses and rode over waters
and through woods till they came to their bushment, whereas Sir
Lionel and Sir Bedivere were hoving. The Romans followed fast
after, on horseback and on foot, over a champaign unto a wood;
then Sir Bors turned his horse and saw a knight come fast on,
whom he smote through the body with a spear that he fell dead
down to the earth; then came Caliburn one of the strongest of
Pavie, and smote down many of Arthur's knights. And when Sir
Bors saw him do so much harm, he addressed toward him, and smote
him through the breast, that he fell down dead to the earth.
Then Sir Feldenak thought to revenge the death of Gainus upon Sir
Gawaine, but Sir Gawaine was ware thereof, and smote him on the
head, which stroke stinted not till it came to his breast. And
then he returned and came to his fellows in the bushment. And
there was a recounter, for the bushment brake on the Romans, and
slew and hew down the Romans, and forced the Romans to flee and
return, whom the noble knights chased unto their tents.
Then the Romans gathered more people, and also footmen came on,
and there was a new battle, and so much people that Sir Bors and
Sir Berel were taken. But when Sir Gawaine saw that, he took
with him Sir Idrus the good knight, and said he would never see
King Arthur but if he rescued them, and pulled out Galatine his
good sword, and followed them that led those two knights away;
and he smote him that led Sir Bors, and took Sir Bors from him
and delivered him to his fellows. And Sir Idrus in likewise
rescued Sir Berel. Then began the battle to be great, that our
knights were in great jeopardy, wherefore Sir Gawaine sent to
King Arthur for succour, and that he hie him, for I am sore
wounded, and that our prisoners may pay goods out of number. And
the messenger came to the king and told him his message.
And anon the king did do assemble his army, but anon, or he
departed the prisoners were come, and Sir Gawaine and his fellows
gat the field and put the Romans to flight, and after returned
and came with their fellowship in such wise that no man of
worship was lost of them, save that Sir Gawaine was sore hurt.
Then the king did do ransack his wounds and comforted him. And
thus was the beginning of the first journey of the Britons and
Romans, and there were slain of the Romans more than ten
thousand, and great joy and mirth was made that night in the host
of King Arthur. And on the morn he sent all the prisoners into
Paris under the guard of Sir Launcelot, with many knights, and of
Sir Cador.
NOW turn we to the Emperor of Rome, which espied that these
prisoners should be sent to Paris, and anon he sent to lie in a
bushment certain knights and princes with sixty thousand men, for
to rescue his knights and lords that were prisoners. And so on
the morn as Launcelot and Sir Cador, chieftains and governors of
all them that conveyed the prisoners, as they should pass through
a wood, Sir Launcelot sent certain knights to espy if any were in
the woods to let them. And when the said knights came into the
wood, anon they espied and saw the great embushment, and returned
and told Sir Launcelot that there lay in await for them three
score thousand Romans. And then Sir Launcelot with such knights
as he had, and men of war to the number of ten thousand, put them
in array, and met with them and fought with them manly, and slew
and detrenched many of the Romans, and slew many knights and
admirals of the party of the Romans and Saracens; there was
slain the king of Lyly and three great lords, Aladuke, Herawd,
and Heringdale. But Sir Launcelot fought so nobly that no man
might endure a stroke of his hand, but where he came he showed
his prowess and might, for he slew down right on every side; and
the Romans and Saracens fled from him as the sheep from the wolf
or from the lion, and put them, all that abode alive, to flight.
And so long they fought that tidings came to King Arthur, and
anon he graithed him and came to the battle, and saw his knights
how they had vanquished the battle, he embraced them knight by
knight in his arms, and said, Ye be worthy to wield all your
honour and worship; there was never king save myself that had so
noble knights. Sir, said Cador, there was none of us failed
other, but of the prowess and manhood of Sir Launcelot were more
than wonder to tell, and also of his cousins which did that day
many noble feats of war. And also Sir Cador told who of his
knights were slain, as Sir Berel, and other Sir Moris and Sir
Maurel, two good knights. Then the king wept, and dried his eyes
with a kerchief, and said, Your courage had near-hand destroyed
you, for though ye had returned again, ye had lost no worship;
for I call it folly, knights to abide when they be overmatched.
Nay, said Launcelot and the other, for once shamed may never be
recovered.
NOW leave we King Arthur and his noble knights which had won the
field, and had brought their prisoners to Paris, and speak we of
a senator which escaped from the battle, and came to Lucius the
emperor, and said to him, Sir emperor, I advise thee for to
withdraw thee; what dost thou here? thou shalt win nothing in
these marches but great strokes out of all measure, for this day
one of Arthur's knights was worth in the battle an hundred
of ours. Fie on thee, said Lucius, thou speakest cowardly; for
thy words grieve me more than all the loss that I had this day.
And anon he sent forth a king, which hight Sir Leomie, with a
great army, and bade him hie him fast to-fore, and he would
follow hastily after. King Arthur was warned privily, and sent
his people to Sessoine, and took up the towns and castles from
the Romans. Then the king commanded Sir Cador to take the
rearward, and to take with him certain knights of the Round
Table, and Sir Launcelot, Sir Bors, Sir Kay, Sir Marrok, with Sir
Marhaus, shall await on our person. Thus the King Arthur
disperpled his host in divers parties, to the end that his
enemies should not escape.
When the emperor was entered into the vale of Sessoine, he might
see where King Arthur was embattled and his banner displayed; and
he was beset round about with his enemies, that needs he must
fight or yield him, for he might not flee, but said openly unto
the Romans, Sirs, I admonish you that this day ye fight and
acquit you as men, and remember how Rome domineth and is chief
and head over all the earth and universal world, and suffer not
these Britons this day to abide against us; and therewith he did
command his trumpets to blow the bloody sounds, in such wise that
the ground trembled and dindled.
Then the battles approached and shoved and shouted on both sides,
and great strokes were smitten on both sides, many men
overthrown, hurt, and slain; and great valiances, prowesses and
appertices of war were that day showed, which were over long to
recount the noble feats of every man, for they should contain an
whole volume. But in especial, King Arthur rode in the battle
exhorting his knights to do well, and himself did as nobly with
his hands as was possible a man to do; he drew out Excalibur his
sword, and awaited ever whereas the Romans were thickest and most
grieved his people, and anon he addressed him on that part, and
hew and slew down right, and rescued his people; and he slew a
great giant named Galapas, which was a man of an huge quantity
and height, he shorted him and smote off both his legs by
the knees, saying, Now art thou better of a size to deal with
than thou were, and after smote off his head. There Sir Gawaine
fought nobly and slew three admirals in that battle. And so did
all the knights of the Round Table. Thus the battle between King
Arthur and Lucius the Emperor endured long. Lucius had on his
side many Saracens which were slain. And thus the battle was
great, and oftsides that one party was at a fordeal and anon at
an afterdeal, which endured so long till at the last King Arthur
espied where Lucius the Emperor fought, and did wonder with his
own hands. And anon he rode to him. And either smote other
fiercely, and at last Lucius smote Arthur thwart the visage, and
gave him a large wound. And when King Arthur felt himself hurt,
anon he smote him again with Excalibur that it cleft his head,
from the summit of his head, and stinted not till it came to his
breast. And then the emperor fell down dead and there ended his
life.
And when it was known that the emperor was slain, anon all the
Romans with all their host put them to flight, and King Arthur
with all his knights followed the chase, and slew down right all
them that they might attain. And thus was the victory given to
King Arthur, and the triumph; and there were slain on the part of
Lucius more than an hundred thousand. And after King Arthur did
do ransack the dead bodies, and did do bury them that were slain
of his retinue, every man according to the estate and degree that
he was of. And them that were hurt he let the surgeons do search
their hurts and wounds, and commanded to spare no salves nor
medicines till they were whole.
Then the king rode straight to the place where the Emperor Lucius
lay dead, and with him he found slain the Soudan of Syria, the
King of Egypt and of Ethiopia, which were two noble kings, with
seventeen other kings of divers regions, and also sixty senators
of Rome, all noble men, whom the king did do balm and gum with
many good gums aromatic, and after did do cere them in sixty
fold of cered cloth of sendal, and laid them in chests of lead,
because they should not chafe nor savour, and upon all these
bodies their shields with their arms and banners were set, to the
end they should be known of what country they were. And after he
found three senators which were alive, to whom he said, For to
save your lives I will that ye take these dead bodies, and carry
them with you unto great Rome, and present them to the Potestate
on my behalf, shewing him my letters, and tell them that I in my
person shall hastily be at Rome. And I suppose the Romans shall
beware how they shall demand any tribute of me. And I command
you to say when ye shall come to Rome, to the Potestate and all
the Council and Senate, that I send to them these dead bodies for
the tribute that they have demanded. And if they be not content
with these, I shall pay more at my coming, for other tribute owe
I none, nor none other will I pay. And methinketh this sufficeth
for Britain, Ireland and all Almaine with Germany. And
furthermore, I charge you to say to them, that I command them
upon pain of their heads never to demand tribute nor tax of me
nor of my lands. Then with this charge and commandment, the
three senators aforesaid departed with all the said dead bodies,
laying the body of Lucius in a car covered with the arms of the
Empire all alone; and after alway two bodies of kings in a
chariot, and then the bodies of the senators after them, and so
went toward Rome, and showed their legation and message to the
Potestate and Senate, recounting the battle done in France, and
how the field was lost and much people and innumerable slain.
Wherefore they advised them in no wise to move no more war
against that noble conqueror Arthur, for his might and prowess is
most to be doubted, seen the noble kings and great multitude of
knights of the Round Table, to whom none earthly prince may
compare.
NOW turn we unto King Arthur and his noble knights, which, after
the great battle achieved against the Romans, entered into
Lorraine, Brabant and Flanders, and sithen returned into Haut
Almaine, and so over the mountains into Lombardy, and after, into
Tuscany wherein was a city which in no wise would yield themself
nor obey, wherefore King Arthur besieged it, and lay long about
it, and gave many assaults to the city; and they within defended
them valiantly. Then, on a time, the king called Sir Florence, a
knight, and said to him they lacked victual, And not far from
hence be great forests and woods, wherein be many of mine enemies
with much bestial: I will that thou make thee ready and go
thither in foraying, and take with thee Sir Gawaine my nephew,
Sir Wisshard, Sir Clegis, Sir Cleremond, and the Captain of
Cardiff with other, and bring with you all the beasts that ye
there can get.
And anon these knights made them ready, and rode over holts and
hills, through forests and woods, till they came into a fair
meadow full of fair flowers and grass; and there they rested them
and their horses all that night. And in the springing of the day
in the next morn, Sir Gawaine took his horse and stole away from
his fellowship, to seek some adventures. And anon he was ware of
a man armed, walking his horse easily by a wood's side, and his
shield laced to his shoulder, sitting on a strong courser,
without any man saving a page bearing a mighty spear. The knight
bare in his shield three griffins of gold, in sable carbuncle,
the chief of silver. When Sir Gawaine espied this gay knight, he
feutred his spear, and rode straight to him, and demanded of him
from whence that he was. That other answered and said he was of
Tuscany, and demanded of Sir Gawaine, What, profferest thou,
proud knight, thee so boldly? here gettest thou no prey, thou
mayest prove what thou wilt, for thou shalt be my prisoner or
thou depart. Then said Gawaine, thou avauntest thee greatly and
speakest proud words, I counsel thee for all thy boast that thou
make thee ready, and take thy gear to thee, to-fore greater grame
fall to thee.
THEN they took their spears and ran each at other with all the
might they had, and smote each other through their shields into
their shoulders, wherefore anon they pulled out their swords, and
smote great strokes that the fire sprang out of their helms.
Then Sir Gawaine was all abashed, and with Galatine his good
sword he smote through shield and thick hauberk made of thick
mails, and all to-rushed and break the precious stones, and made
him a large wound, that men might see both liver and lung. Then
groaned that knight, and addressed him to Sir Gawaine, and with
an awk stroke gave him a great wound and cut a vein, which
grieved Gawaine sore, and he bled sore. Then the knight said to
Sir Gawaine, bind thy wound or thy blee[ding] change, for thou
be-bleedest all thy horse and thy fair arms, for all the barbers
of Brittany shall not con staunch thy blood, for whosomever is
hurt with this blade he shall never be staunched of bleeding.
Then answered Gawaine, it grieveth me but little, thy great words
shall not fear me nor lessen my courage, but thou shalt suffer
teen and sorrow or we depart, but tell me in haste who may
staunch my bleeding. That may I do, said the knight, if I will,
and so will I if thou wilt succour and aid me, that I may be
christened and believe on God, and thereof I require thee of thy
manhood, and it shall be great merit for thy soul. I grant,
said Gawaine, so God help me, to accomplish all thy desire, but
first tell me what thou soughtest here thus alone, and of what
land and liegiance thou art of. Sir, he said, my name is
Priamus, and a great prince is my father, and he hath been rebel
unto Rome and overridden many of their lands. My father is
lineally descended of Alexander and of Hector by right line. And
Duke Joshua and Maccabaeus were of our lineage. I am right
inheritor of Alexandria and Africa, and all the out isles, yet
will I believe on thy Lord that thou believest on; and for thy
labour I shall give thee treasure enough. I was so elate and
hauteyn in my heart that I thought no man my peer, nor to me
semblable. I was sent into this war with seven score knights,
and now I have encountered with thee, which hast given to me of
fighting my fill, wherefore sir knight, I pray thee to tell me
what thou art. I am no knight, said Gawaine, I have been brought
up in the guardrobe with the noble King Arthur many years, for to
take heed to his armour and his other array, and to point his
paltocks that long to himself. At Yule last he made me yeoman,
and gave to me horse and harness, and an hundred pound in money;
and if fortune be my friend, I doubt not but to be well advanced
and holpen by my liege lord. Ah, said Priamus, if his knaves be
so keen and fierce, his knights be passing good: now for the
King's love of Heaven, whether thou be a knave or a knight, tell
thou me thy name. By God, said Sir Gawaine, now I will say thee
sooth, my name is Sir Gawaine, and known I am in his court and in
his chamber, and one of the knights of the Round Table, he dubbed
me a duke with his own hand. Therefore grudge not if this grace
is to me fortuned, it is the goodness of God that lent to me my
strength. Now am I better pleased, said Priamus, than thou hadst
given to me all the Provence and Paris the rich. I had liefer to
have been torn with wild horses, than any varlet had won such
loos, or any page or priker should have had prize on me. But now
sir knight I warn thee that hereby is a Duke of Lorraine with his
army, and the noblest men of Dolphiny, and lords of
Lombardy, with the garrison of Godard, and Saracens of Southland,
y-numbered sixty thousand of good men of arms; wherefore but if
we hie us hence, it will harm us both, for we be sore hurt, never
like to recover; but take heed to my page, that he no horn blow,
for if he do, there be hoving here fast by an hundred knights
awaiting on my person, and if they take thee, there shall no
ransom of gold nor silver acquit thee.
Then Sir Gawaine rode over a water for to save him, and the
knight followed him, and so rode forth till they came to his
fellows which were in the meadow, where they had been all the
night. Anon as Sir Wisshard was ware of Sir Gawaine and saw that
he was hurt, he ran to him sorrowfully weeping, and demanded of
him who had so hurt him; and Gawaine told how he had foughten
with that man, and each of them had hurt other, and how he had
salves to heal them; but I can tell you other tidings, that soon
we shall have ado with many enemies.
Then Sir Priamus and Sir Gawaine alighted, and let their horses
graze in the meadow, and unarmed them, and then the blood ran
freshly from their wounds. And Priamus took from his page a vial
full of the four waters that came out of Paradise, and with
certain balm anointed their wounds, and washed them with that
water, and within an hour after they were both as whole as ever
they were. And then with a trumpet were they all assembled to
council, and there Priamus told unto them what lords and knights
had sworn to rescue him, and that without fail they should be
assailed with many thousands, wherefore he counselled them to
withdraw them. Then Sir Gawaine said, it were great shame to
them to avoid without any strokes; Wherefore I advise to take our
arms and to make us ready to meet with these Saracens and
misbelieving men, and with the help of God we shall overthrow
them and have a fair day on them. And Sir Florence shall abide
still in this field to keep the stale as a noble knight, and we
shall not forsake yonder fellows. Now, said Priamus, cease your
words, for I warn you ye shall find in yonder woods many
perilous knights; they will put forth beasts to call you on, they
be out of number, and ye are not past seven hundred, which be
over few to fight with so many. Nevertheless, said Sir Gawaine,
we shall once encounter them, and see what they can do, and the
best shall have the victory.
THEN Sir Florence called to him Sir Floridas, with an hundred
knights, and drove forth the herd of beasts. Then followed him
seven hundred men of arms; and Sir Ferant of Spain on a fair
steed came springing out of the woods, and came to Sir Florence
and asked him why he fled. Then Sir Florence took his spear and
rode against him, and smote him in the forehead and brake his
neck bone. Then all the other were moved, and thought to avenge
the death of Sir Ferant, and smote in among them, and there was
great fight, and many slain and laid down to ground, and Sir
Florence with his hundred knights alway kept the stale, and
fought manly.
Then when Priamus the good knight perceived the great fight, he
went to Sir Gawaine, and bade him that he should go and succour
his fellowship, which were sore bestead with their enemies. Sir,
grieve you not, said Sir Gawaine, for their gree shall be theirs.
I shall not once move my horse to them ward, but if I see more
than there be; for they be strong enough to match them.
And with that he saw an earl called Sir Ethelwold and the duke of
Dutchmen, came leaping out of a wood with many thousands, and
Priamus' knights, and came straight unto the battle. Then Sir
Gawaine comforted his knights, and bade them not to be abashed,
for all shall be ours. Then they began to wallop and met with
their enemies, there were men slain and overthrown on every
side. Then thrust in among them the knights of the Table Round,
and smote down to the earth all them that withstood them, in so
much that they made them to recoil and flee. By God, said Sir
Gawaine, this gladdeth my heart, for now be they less in number
by twenty thousand. Then entered into the battle Jubance a
giant, and fought and slew down right, and distressed many of our
knights, among whom was slain Sir Gherard, a knight of Wales.
Then our knights took heart to them, and slew many Saracens. And
then came in Sir Priamus with his pennon, and rode with the
knights of the Round Table, and fought so manfully that many of
their enemies lost their lives. And there Sir Priamus slew the
Marquis of Moises land, and Sir Gawaine with his fellows so quit
them that they had the field, but in that stour was Sir
Chestelaine, a child and ward of Sir Gawaine slain, wherefore was
much sorrow made, and his death was soon avenged. Thus was the
battle ended, and many lords of Lombardy and Saracens left dead
in the field.
Then Sir Florence and Sir Gawaine harboured surely their people,
and took great plenty of bestial, of gold and silver, and great
treasure and riches, and returned unto King Arthur, which lay
still at the siege. And when they came to the king they
presented their prisoners and recounted their adventures, and how
they had vanquished their enemies.
NOW thanked be God, said the noble King Arthur. But what manner
man is he that standeth by himself, him seemeth no prisoner.
Sir, said Gawaine, this is a good man of arms, he hath matched
me, but he is yielden unto God, and to me, for to become
Christian; had not he have been we should never have returned,
wherefore I pray you that he may be baptised, for there liveth
not a nobler man nor better knight of his hands. Then the king
let him anon be christened, and did do call him his first name
Priamus, and made him a duke and knight of the Table Round. And
then anon the king let do cry assault to the city, and there was
rearing of ladders, breaking of walls, and the ditch filled, that
men with little pain might enter into the city. Then came out a
duchess, and Clarisin the countess, with many ladies and
damosels, and kneeling before King Arthur, required him for the
love of God to receive the city, and not to take it by assault,
for then should many guiltless be slain. Then the king avaled
his visor with a meek and noble countenance, and said, Madam,
there shall none of my subjects misdo you nor your maidens, nor
to none that to you belong, but the duke shall abide my judgment.
Then anon the king commanded to leave the assault, and anon the
duke's oldest son brought out the keys, and kneeling delivered
them to the king, and besought him of grace; and the king seized
the town by assent of his lords, and took the duke and sent him
to Dover, there for to abide prisoner term of his life, and
assigned certain rents for the dower of the duchess and for her
children.
Then he made lords to rule those lands, and laws as a lord ought
to do in his own country; and after he took his journey toward
Rome, and sent Sir Floris and Sir Floridas to-fore, with five
hundred men of arms, and they came to the city of Urbino and laid
there a bushment, thereas them seemed most best for them, and
rode to-fore the town, where anon issued out much people and
skirmished with the fore-riders. Then brake out the bushment and
won the bridge, and after the town, and set upon the walls the
king's banner. Then came the king upon an hill, and saw the city
and his banner on the walls, by which he knew that the city was
won. And anon he sent and commanded that none of his liege men
should defoul nor lie by no lady, wife nor maid; and when he came
into the city, he passed to the castle, and comforted them
that were in sorrow, and ordained there a captain, a knight of
his own country.
And when they of Milan heard that thilk city was won, they sent
to King Arthur great sums of money, and besought him as their
lord to have pity on them, promising to be his subjects for ever,
and yield to him homage and fealty for the lands of Pleasance and
Pavia, Petersaint, and the Port of Tremble, and to give him
yearly a million of gold all his lifetime. Then he rideth into
Tuscany, and winneth towns and castles, and wasted all in his way
that to him will not obey, and so to Spolute and Viterbe, and
from thence he rode into the Vale of Vicecount among the vines.
And from thence he sent to the senators, to wit whether they
would know him for their lord. But soon after on a Saturday came
unto King Arthur all the senators that were left alive, and the
noblest cardinals that then dwelt in Rome, and prayed him of
peace, and proferred him full large, and besought him as governor
to give licence for six weeks for to assemble all the Romans, and
then to crown him emperor with chrism as it belongeth to so high
estate. I assent, said the king, like as ye have devised, and at
Christmas there to be crowned, and to hold my Round Table with my
knights as me liketh. And then the senators made ready for his
enthronization. And at the day appointed, as the romance
telleth, he came into Rome, and was crowned emperor by the pope's
hand, with all the royalty that could be made, and sojourned
there a time, and established all his lands from Rome into
France, and gave lands and realms unto his servants and knights,
to everych after his desert, in such wise that none complained,
rich nor poor. And he gave to Sir Priamus the duchy of Lorraine;
and he thanked him, and said he would serve him the days of his
life; and after made dukes and earls, and made every man rich.
Then after this all his knights and lords assembled them afore
him, and said: Blessed be God, your war is finished and your
conquest achieved, in so much that we know none so great nor
mighty that dare make war against you: wherefore we beseech you
to return homeward, and give us licence to go home to our wives,
from whom we have been long, and to rest us, for your journey is
finished with honour and worship. Then said the king, Ye say
truth, and for to tempt God it is no wisdom, and therefore make
you ready and return we into England. Then there was trussing of
harness and baggage and great carriage. And after licence given,
he returned and commanded that no man in pain of death should not
rob nor take victual, nor other thing by the way but that he
should pay therefore. And thus he came over the sea and landed
at Sandwich, against whom Queen Guenever his wife came and met
him, and he was nobly received of all his commons in every city
and burgh, and great gifts presented to him at his home-coming to
welcome him with.
Thus endeth the fifth book of the conquest that King Arthur
had against Lucius the Emperor of Rome, and here
followeth the sixth book, which is of Sir Launcelot
du Lake.
SOON after that King Arthur was come from Rome into England, then
all the knights of the Table Round resorted unto the king, and
made many jousts and tournaments, and some there were that were
but knights, which increased so in arms and worship that they
passed all their fellows in prowess and noble deeds, and that was
well proved on many; but in especial it was proved on Sir
Launcelot du Lake, for in all tournaments and jousts and deeds of
arms, both for life and death, he passed all other knights, and
at no time he was never overcome but if it were by treason or
enchantment; so Sir Launcelot increased so marvellously in
worship, and in honour, therefore is he the first knight that the
French book maketh mention of after King Arthur came from Rome.
Wherefore Queen Guenever had him in great favour above all other
knights, and in certain he loved the queen again above all other
ladies and damosels of his life, and for her he did many deeds of
arms, and saved her from the fire through his noble chivalry.
Thus Sir Launcelot rested him long with play and game. And then
he thought himself to prove himself in strange adventures, then
he bade his nephew, Sir Lionel, for to make him ready; for we two
will seek adventures. So they mounted on their horses, armed at
all rights, and rode into a deep forest and so into a deep
plain. And then the weather was hot about noon, and Sir
Launcelot had great lust to sleep. Then Sir Lionel espied a
great apple-tree that stood by an hedge, and said, Brother,
yonder is a fair shadow, there may we rest us [and] our horses.
It is well said, fair brother, said Sir Launcelot, for this eight
year I was not so sleepy as I am now; and so they there alighted
and tied their horses unto sundry trees, and so Sir Launcelot
laid him down under an appletree, and his helm he laid under his
head. And Sir Lionel waked while he slept. So Sir Launcelot was
asleep passing fast.
And in the meanwhile there came three knights riding, as fast
fleeing as ever they might ride. And there followed them three
but one knight. And when Sir Lionel saw him, him thought he saw
never so great a knight, nor so well faring a man, neither so
well apparelled unto all rights. So within a while this strong
knight had overtaken one of these knights, and there he smote him
to the cold earth that he lay still. And then he rode unto the
second knight, and smote him so that man and horse fell down.
And then straight to the third knight he rode, and smote him
behind his horse's arse a spear length. And then he alighted
down and reined his horse on the bridle, and bound all the three
knights fast with the reins of their own bridles. When Sir
Lionel saw him do thus, he thought to assay him, and made him
ready, and stilly and privily he took his horse, and thought not
for to awake Sir Launcelot. And when he was mounted upon his
horse, he overtook this strong knight, and bade him turn, and the
other smote Sir Lionel so hard that horse and man he bare to the
earth, and so he alighted down and bound him fast, and threw him
overthwart his own horse, and so he served them all four, and
rode with them away to his own castle. And when he came there he
gart unarm them, and beat them with thorns all naked, and after
put them in a deep prison where were many more knights, that made
great dolour.
WHEN Sir Ector de Maris wist that Sir Launcelot was passed out of
the court to seek adventures, he was wroth with himself, and made
him ready to seek Sir Launcelot, and as he had ridden long in a
great forest he met with a man was like a forester. Fair fellow,
said Sir Ector, knowest thou in this country any adventures that
be here nigh hand? Sir, said the forester, this country know I
well, and hereby, within this mile, is a strong manor, and well
dyked, and by that manor, on the left hand, there is a fair ford
for horses to drink of, and over that ford there groweth a fair
tree, and thereon hang many fair shields that wielded sometime
good knights, and at the hole of the tree hangeth a basin of
copper and latten, and strike upon that basin with the butt of
thy spear thrice, and soon after thou shalt hear new tidings, and
else hast thou the fairest grace that many a year had ever knight
that passed through this forest. Gramercy, said Sir Ector, and
departed and came to the tree, and saw many fair shields. And
among them he saw his brother's shield, Sir Lionel, and many more
that he knew that were his fellows of the Round Table, the which
grieved his heart, and promised to revenge his brother.
Then anon Sir Ector beat on the basin as he were wood, and then
he gave his horse drink at the ford, and there came a knight
behind him and bade him come out of the water and make him ready;
and Sir Ector anon turned him shortly, and in feuter cast his
spear, and smote the other knight a great buffet that his horse
turned twice about. This was well done, said the strong knight,
and knightly thou hast stricken me; and therewith he rushed his
horse on Sir Ector, and cleight him under his right arm, and bare
him clean out of the saddle, and rode with him away into his
own hall, and threw him down in midst of the floor. The name of
this knight was Sir Turquine. Then he said unto Sir Ector, For
thou hast done this day more unto me than any knight did these
twelve years, now will I grant thee thy life, so thou wilt be
sworn to be my prisoner all thy life days. Nay, said Sir Ector,
that will I never promise thee, but that I will do mine
advantage. That me repenteth, said Sir Turquine. And then he
gart to unarm him, and beat him with thorns all naked, and sithen
put him down in a deep dungeon, where he knew many of his
fellows. But when Sir Ector saw Sir Lionel, then made he great
sorrow. Alas, brother, said Sir Ector, where is my brother Sir
Launcelot? Fair brother, I left him asleep when that I from him
yode, under an apple-tree, and what is become of him I cannot
tell you. Alas, said the knights, but Sir Launcelot help us we
may never be delivered, for we know now no knight that is able to
match our master Turquine.
NOW leave we these knights prisoners, and speak we of Sir
Launcelot du Lake that lieth under the apple-tree sleeping. Even
about the noon there came by him four queens of great estate;
and, for the heat should not annoy them, there rode four knights
about them, and bare a cloth of green silk on four spears,
betwixt them and the sun, and the queens rode on four white
mules. Thus as they rode they heard by them a great horse grimly
neigh, then were they ware of a sleeping knight, that lay all
armed under an apple-tree; anon as these queens looked on his
face, they knew it was Sir Launcelot. Then they began for to
strive for that knight, everych one said they would have him to
her love. We shall not strive, said Morgan le Fay, that was
King Arthur's sister, I shall put an enchantment upon him that he
shall not awake in six hours, and then I will lead him away unto
my castle, and when he is surely within my hold, I shall take the
enchantment from him, and then let him choose which of us he will
have unto paramour.
So this enchantment was cast upon Sir Launcelot, and then they
laid him upon his shield, and bare him so on horseback betwixt
two knights, and brought him unto the castle Chariot, and there
they laid him in a chamber cold, and at night they sent unto him
a fair damosel with his supper ready dight. By that the
enchantment was past, and when she came she saluted him, and
asked him what cheer. I cannot say, fair damosel, said Sir
Launcelot, for I wot not how I came into this castle but it be by
an enchantment. Sir, said she, ye must make good cheer, and if
ye be such a knight as it is said ye be, I shall tell you more
to-morn by prime of the day. Gramercy, fair damosel, said Sir
Launcelot, of your good will I require you. And so she departed.
And there he lay all that night without comfort of anybody. And
on the morn early came these four queens, passingly well beseen,
all they bidding him good morn, and he them again.
Sir knight, the four queens said, thou must understand thou art
our prisoner, and we here know thee well that thou art Sir
Launcelot du Lake, King Ban's son, and because we understand your
worthiness, that thou art the noblest knight living, and as we
know well there can no lady have thy love but one, and that is
Queen Guenever, and now thou shalt lose her for ever, and she
thee, and therefore thee behoveth now to choose one of us four.
I am the Queen Morgan le Fay, queen of the land of Gore, and here
is the queen of Northgalis, and the queen of Eastland, and the
queen of the Out Isles; now choose one of us which thou wilt have
to thy paramour, for thou mayest not choose or else in this
prison to die. This is an hard case, said Sir Launcelot, that
either I must die or else choose one of you, yet had I liefer to
die in this prison with worship, than to have one of you to my
paramour maugre my head. And therefore ye be answered, I
will none of you, for ye be false enchantresses, and as for my
lady, Dame Guenever, were I at my liberty as I was, I would prove
it on you or on yours, that she is the truest lady unto her lord
living. Well, said the queens, is this your answer, that ye will
refuse us. Yea, on my life, said Sir Launcelot, refused ye be of
me. So they departed and left him there alone that made great
sorrow.
RIGHT so at the noon came the damosel unto him with his dinner,
and asked him what cheer. Truly, fair damosel, said Sir
Launcelot, in my life days never so ill. Sir, she said, that me
repenteth, but an ye will be ruled by me, I shall help you out of
this distress, and ye shall have no shame nor villainy, so that
ye hold me a promise. Fair damosel, I will grant you, and sore I
am of these queen-sorceresses afeard, for they have destroyed
many a good knight. Sir, said she, that is sooth, and for the
renown and bounty that they hear of you they would have your
love, and Sir, they say, your name is Sir Launcelot du Lake, the
flower of knights, and they be passing wroth with you that ye
have refused them. But Sir, an ye would promise me to help my
father on Tuesday next coming, that hath made a tournament
betwixt him and the King of Northgalis--for the last Tuesday past
my father lost the field through three knights of Arthur's
court--an ye will be there on Tuesday next coming, and help my
father, to-morn or prime, by the grace of God, I shall deliver
you clean. Fair maiden, said Sir Launcelot, tell me what is your
father's name, and then shall I give you an answer. Sir knight,
she said, my father is King Bagdemagus, that was foul rebuked at
the last tournament. I know your father well, said Sir
Launcelot, for a noble king and a good knight, and by the
faith of my body, ye shall have my body ready to do your father
and you service at that day. Sir, she said, gramercy, and to-
morn await ye be ready betimes and I shall be she that shall
deliver you and take you your armour and your horse, shield and
spear, and hereby within this ten mile, is an abbey of white
monks, there I pray you that ye me abide, and thither shall I
bring my father unto you. All this shall be done, said Sir
Launcelot as I am true knight.
And so she departed, and came on the morn early, and found him
ready; then she brought him out of twelve locks, and brought him
unto his armour, and when he was clean armed, she brought him
until his own horse, and lightly he saddled him and took a great
spear in his hand and so rode forth, and said, Fair damosel, I
shall not fail you, by the grace of God. And so he rode into a
great forest all that day, and never could find no highway and so
the night fell on him, and then was he ware in a slade, of a
pavilion of red sendal. By my faith, said Sir Launcelot, in that
pavilion will I lodge all this night, and so there he alighted
down, and tied his horse to the pavilion, and there he unarmed
him, and there he found a bed, and laid him therein and fell
asleep sadly.
THEN within an hour there came the knight to whom the pavilion
ought, and he weened that his leman had lain in that bed, and so
he laid him down beside Sir Launcelot, and took him in his arms
and began to kiss him. And when Sir Launcelot felt a rough beard
kissing him, he started out of the bed lightly, and the other
knight after him, and either of them gat their swords in their
hands, and out at the pavilion door went the knight of the
pavilion, and Sir Launcelot followed him, and there by a
little slake Sir Launcelot wounded him sore, nigh unto the death.
And then he yielded him unto Sir Launcelot, and so he granted
him, so that he would tell him why he came into the bed. Sir,
said the knight, the pavilion is mine own, and there this night I
had assigned my lady to have slept with me, and now I am likely
to die of this wound. That me repenteth, said Launcelot, of your
hurt, but I was adread of treason, for I was late beguiled, and
therefore come on your way into your pavilion and take your rest,
and as I suppose I shall staunch your blood. And so they went
both into the pavilion, and anon Sir Launcelot staunched his
blood.
Therewithal came the knight's lady, that was a passing fair lady,
and when she espied that her lord Belleus was sore wounded, she
cried out on Sir Launcelot, and made great dole out of measure.
Peace, my lady and my love, said Belleus, for this knight is a
good man, and a knight adventurous, and there he told her all the
cause how he was wounded; And when that I yielded me unto him, he
left me goodly and hath staunched my blood. Sir, said the lady,
I require thee tell me what knight ye be, and what is your name?
Fair lady, he said, my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake. So me
thought ever by your speech, said the lady, for I have seen you
oft or this, and I know you better than ye ween. But now an ye
would promise me of your courtesy, for the harms that ye have
done to me and my Lord Belleus, that when he cometh unto Arthur's
court for to cause him to be made knight of the Round Table, for
he is a passing good man of arms, and a mighty lord of lands of
many out isles.
Fair lady, said Sir Launcelot, let him come unto the court the
next high feast, and look that ye come with him, and I shall do
my power, an ye prove you doughty of your hands, that ye shall
have your desire. So thus within a while, as they thus talked,
the night passed, and the day shone, and then Sir Launcelot armed
him, and took his horse, and they taught him to the Abbey, and
thither he rode within the space of two hours.
AND soon as Sir Launcelot came within the abbey yard, the
daughter of King Bagdemagus heard a great horse go on the
pavement. And she then arose and yede unto a window, and there
she saw Sir Launcelot, and anon she made men fast to take his
horse from him and let lead him into a stable, and himself was
led into a fair chamber, and unarmed him, and the lady sent him a
long gown, and anon she came herself. And then she made
Launcelot passing good cheer, and she said he was the knight in
the world was most welcome to her. Then in all haste she sent
for her father Bagdemagus that was within twelve mile of that
Abbey, and afore even he came, with a fair fellowship of knights
with him. And when the king was alighted off his horse he yode
straight unto Sir Launcelot's chamber and there he found his
daughter, and then the king embraced Sir Launcelot in his arms,
and either made other good cheer.
Anon Sir Launcelot made his complaint unto the king how he was
betrayed, and how his brother Sir Lionel was departed from him he
wist not where, and how his daughter had delivered him out of
prison; Therefore while I live I shall do her service and all her
kindred. Then am I sure of your help, said the king, on Tuesday
next coming. Yea, sir, said Sir Launcelot, I shall not fail you,
for so I have promised my lady your daughter. But, sir, what
knights be they of my lord Arthur's that were with the King of
Northgalis? And the king said it was Sir Mador de la Porte, and
Sir Mordred and Sir Gahalantine that all for-fared my knights,
for against them three I nor my knights might bear no strength.
Sir, said Sir Launcelot, as I hear say that the tournament shall
be here within this three mile of this abbey, ye shall send
unto me three knights of yours, such as ye trust, and look that
the three knights have all white shields, and I also, and no
painture on the shields, and we four will come out of a little
wood in midst of both parties, and we shall fall in the front of
our enemies and grieve them that we may; and thus shall I not be
known what knight I am.
So they took their rest that night, and this was on the Sunday,
and so the king departed, and sent unto Sir Launcelot three
knights with the four white shields. And on the Tuesday they
lodged them in a little leaved wood beside there the tournament
should be. And there were scaffolds and holes that lords and
ladies might behold and to give the prize. Then came into the
field the King of Northgalis with eight score helms. And then
the three knights of Arthur's stood by themselves. Then came
into the field King Bagdemagus with four score of helms. And
then they feutred their spears, and came together with a great
dash, and there were slain of knights at the first recounter
twelve of King Bagdemagus' party, and six of the King of
Northgalis' party, and King Bagdemagus' party was far set aback.
WITH that came Sir Launcelot du Lake, and he thrust in with his
spear in the thickest of the press, and there he smote down with
one spear five knights, and of four of them he brake their backs.
And in that throng he smote down the King of Northgalis, and
brake his thigh in that fall. All this doing of Sir Launcelot
saw the three knights of Arthur's. Yonder is a shrewd guest,
said Sir Mador de la Porte, therefore have here once at him. So
they encountered, and Sir Launcelot bare him down horse and
man, so that his shoulder went out of lith. Now befalleth
it to me to joust, said Mordred, for Sir Mador hath a sore fall.
Sir Launcelot was ware of him, and gat a great spear in his hand,
and met him, and Sir Mordred brake a spear upon him, and Sir
Launcelot gave him such a buffet that the arson of his saddle
brake, and so he flew over his horse's tail, that his helm butted
into the earth a foot and more, that nigh his neck was broken,
and there he lay long in a swoon.
Then came in Sir Gahalantine with a great spear and Launcelot
against him, with all their strength that they might drive, that
both their spears to-brast even to their hands, and then they
flang out with their swords and gave many a grim stroke. Then
was Sir Launcelot wroth out of measure, and then he smote Sir
Gahalantine on the helm that his nose brast out on blood, and
ears and mouth both, and therewith his head hung low. And
therewith his horse ran away with him, and he fell down to the
earth. Anon therewithal Sir Launcelot gat a great spear in his
hand, and or ever that great spear brake, he bare down to the
earth sixteen knights, some horse and man, and some the man and
not the horse, and there was none but that he hit surely, he bare
none arms that day. And then he gat another great spear, and
smote down twelve knights, and the most part of them never throve
after. And then the knights of the King of Northgalis would
joust no more. And there the gree was given to King Bagdemagus.
So either party departed unto his own place, and Sir Launcelot
rode forth with King Bagdemagus unto his castle, and there he had
passing good cheer both with the king and with his daughter, and
they proffered him great gifts. And on the morn he took his
leave, and told the king that he would go and seek his brother
Sir Lionel, that went from him when that he slept, so he took his
horse, and betaught them all to God. And there he said unto the
king's daughter, If ye have need any time of my service I pray
you let me have knowledge, and I shall not fail you as I am true
knight. And so Sir Launcelot departed, and by adventure he came
into the same forest there he was taken sleeping. And in
the midst of a highway he met a damosel riding on a white
palfrey, and there either saluted other. Fair damosel, said Sir
Launcelot, know ye in this country any adventures? Sir knight,
said that damosel, here are adventures near hand, an thou durst
prove them. Why should I not prove adventures? said Sir
Launcelot for that cause come I hither. Well, said she, thou
seemest well to be a good knight, and if thou dare meet with a
good knight, I shall bring thee where is the best knight, and the
mightiest that ever thou found, so thou wilt tell me what is thy
name, and what knight thou art. Damosel, as for to tell thee my
name I take no great force; truly my name is Sir Launcelot du
Lake. Sir, thou beseemest well, here be adventures by that fall
for thee, for hereby dwelleth a knight that will not be
overmatched for no man I know but ye overmatch him, and his name
is Sir Turquine. And, as I understand, he hath in his prison, of
Arthur's court, good knights three score and four, that he hath
won with his own hands. But when ye have done that journey ye
shall promise me as ye are a true knight for to go with me, and
to help me and other damosels that are distressed daily with a
false knight. All your intent, damosel, and desire I will
fulfil, so ye will bring me unto this knight. Now, fair knight,
come on your way; and so she brought him unto the ford and the
tree where hung the basin.
So Sir Launcelot let his horse drink, and then he beat on the
basin with the butt of his spear so hard with all his might till
the bottom fell out, and long he did so, but he saw nothing.
Then he rode endlong the gates of that manor nigh half-an-hour.
And then was he ware of a great knight that drove an horse afore
him, and overthwart the horse there lay an armed knight bound.
And ever as they came near and near, Sir Launcelot thought he
should know him. Then Sir Launcelot was ware that it was Sir
Gaheris, Gawaine's brother, a knight of the Table Round. Now,
fair damosel, said Sir Launcelot, I see yonder cometh a knight
fast bounden that is a fellow of mine, and brother he is unto Sir
Gawaine. And at the first beginning I promise you, by the leave
of God, to rescue that knight; but if his master sit better
in the saddle I shall deliver all the prisoners that he hath out
of danger, for I am sure he hath two brethren of mine prisoners
with him. By that time that either had seen other, they gripped
their spears unto them. Now, fair knight, said Sir Launcelot,
put that wounded knight off the horse, and let him rest awhile,
and let us two prove our strengths; for as it is informed me,
thou doest and hast done great despite and shame unto knights of
the Round Table, and therefore now defend thee. An thou be of
the Table Round, said Turquine, I defy thee and all thy
fellowship. That is overmuch said, said Sir Launcelot.
AND then they put their spears in the rests, and came together
with their horses as fast as they might run, and either smote
other in midst of their shields, that both their horses' backs
brast under them, and the knights were both stonied. And as soon
as they might avoid their horses, they took their shields afore
them, and drew out their swords, and came together eagerly, and
either gave other many strong strokes, for there might neither
shields nor harness hold their strokes. And so within a while
they had both grimly wounds, and bled passing grievously. Thus
they fared two hours or more trasing and rasing either other,
where they might hit any bare place.
Then at the last they were breathless both, and stood leaning on
their swords. Now fellow, said Sir Turquine, hold thy hand a
while, and tell me what I shall ask thee. Say on. Then Turquine
said, Thou art the biggest man that ever I met withal, and the
best breathed, and like one knight that I hate above all other
knights; so be it that thou be not he I will lightly accord with
thee, and for thy love I will deliver all the prisoners that I
have, that is three score and four, so thou wilt tell me thy
name. And thou and I we will be fellows together, and never
to fail thee while that I live. It is well said, said Sir
Launcelot, but sithen it is so that I may have thy friendship,
what knight is he that thou so hatest above all other?
Faithfully, said Sir Turquine, his name is Sir Launcelot du Lake,
for he slew my brother, Sir Carados, at the dolorous tower, that
was one of the best knights alive; and therefore him I except of
all knights, for may I once meet with him, the one of us shall
make an end of other, I make mine avow. And for Sir Launcelot's
sake I have slain an hundred good knights, and as many I have
maimed all utterly that they might never after help themselves,
and many have died in prison, and yet have I three score and
four, and all shall be delivered so thou wilt tell me thy name,
so be it that thou be not Sir Launcelot.
Now, see I well, said Sir Launcelot, that such a man I might be,
I might have peace, and such a man I might be, that there should
be war mortal betwixt us. And now, sir knight, at thy request I
will that thou wit and know that I am Launcelot du Lake, King
Ban's son of Benwick, and very knight of the Table Round. And
now I defy thee, and do thy best. Ah, said Turquine, Launcelot,
thou art unto me most welcome that ever was knight, for we shall
never depart till the one of us be dead. Then they hurtled
together as two wild bulls rushing and lashing with their shields
and swords, that sometime they fell both over their noses. Thus
they fought still two hours and more, and never would have rest,
and Sir Turquine gave Sir Launcelot many wounds that all the
ground thereas they fought was all bespeckled with blood.
THEN at the last Sir Turquine waxed faint, and gave somewhat
aback, and bare his shield low for weariness. That espied
Sir Launcelot, and leapt upon him fiercely and gat him by the
beaver of his helmet, and plucked him down on his knees, and anon
he raced off his helm, and smote his neck in sunder. And when
Sir Launcelot had done this, he yode unto the damosel and said,
Damosel, I am ready to go with you where ye will have me, but I
have no horse. Fair sir, said she, take this wounded knight's
horse and send him into this manor, and command him to deliver
all the prisoners. So Sir Launcelot went unto Gaheris, and
prayed him not to be aggrieved for to lend him his horse. Nay,
fair lord, said Gaheris, I will that ye take my horse at your own
commandment, for ye have both saved me and my horse, and this day
I say ye are the best knight in the world, for ye have slain this
day in my sight the mightiest man and the best knight except you
that ever I saw, and, fair sir, said Gaheris, I pray you tell me
your name. Sir, my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake, that ought to
help you of right for King Arthur's sake, and in especial for my
lord Sir Gawaine's sake, your own dear brother; and when that ye
come within yonder manor, I am sure ye shall find there many
knights of the Round Table, for I have seen many of their shields
that I know on yonder tree. There is Kay's shield, and Sir
Brandel's shield, and Sir Marhaus' shield, and Sir Galind's
shield, and Sir Brian de Listnois' shield, and Sir Aliduke's
shield, with many more that I am not now advised of, and also my
two brethren's shields, Sir Ector de Maris and Sir Lionel;
wherefore I pray you greet them all from me, and say that I bid
them take such stuff there as they find, and that in any wise my
brethren go unto the court and abide me there till that I come,
for by the feast of Pentecost I cast me to be there, for as at
this time I must ride with this damosel for to save my promise.
And so he departed from Gaheris, and Gaheris yede in to the
manor, and there he found a yeoman porter keeping there many
keys. Anon withal Sir Gaheris threw the porter unto the ground
and took the keys from him, and hastily he opened the prison
door, and there he let out all the prisoners, and every man
loosed other of their bonds. And when they saw Sir Gaheris, all
they thanked him, for they weened that he was wounded. Not so,
said Gaheris, it was Launcelot that slew him worshipfully with
his own hands. I saw it with mine own eyes. And he greeteth you
all well, and prayeth you to haste you to the court; and as unto
Sir Lionel and Ector de Maris he prayeth you to abide him at the
court. That shall we not do, says his brethren, we will find him
an we may live. So shall I, said Sir Kay, find him or I come at
the court, as I am true knight.
Then all those knights sought the house thereas the armour was,
and then they armed them, and every knight found his own horse,
and all that ever longed unto him. And when this was done, there
came a forester with four horses laden with fat venison. Anon,
Sir Kay said, Here is good meat for us for one meal, for we had
not many a day no good repast. And so that venison was roasted,
baken, and sodden, and so after supper some abode there all
night, but Sir Lionel and Ector de Maris and Sir Kay rode after
Sir Launcelot to find him if they might.
NOW turn we unto Sir Launcelot, that rode with the damosel in a
fair highway. Sir, said the damosel, here by this way haunteth a
knight that distressed all ladies and gentlewomen, and at the
least he robbeth them or lieth by them. What, said Sir
Launcelot, is he a thief and a knight and a ravisher of women? he
doth shame unto the order of knighthood, and contrary unto his
oath; it is pity that he liveth. But, fair damosel, ye shall
ride on afore, yourself, and I will keep myself in covert, and if
that he trouble you or distress you I shall be your rescue
and learn him to be ruled as a knight.
So the maid rode on by the way a soft ambling pace, and within a
while came out that knight on horseback out of the wood, and his
page with him, and there he put the damosel from her horse, and
then she cried. With that came Launcelot as fast as he might
till he came to that knight, saying, O thou false knight and
traitor unto knighthood, who did learn thee to distress ladies
and gentlewomen? When the knight saw Sir Launcelot thus rebuking
him he answered not, but drew his sword and rode unto Sir
Launcelot, and Sir Launcelot threw his spear from him, and drew
out his sword, and struck him such a buffet on the helmet that he
clave his head and neck unto the throat. Now hast thou thy
payment that long thou hast deserved! That is truth, said the
damosel, for like as Sir Turquine watched to destroy knights, so
did this knight attend to destroy and distress ladies, damosels,
and gentlewomen, and his name was Sir Peris de Forest Savage.
Now, damosel, said Sir Launcelot, will ye any more service of me?
Nay, sir, she said, at this time, but almighty Jesu preserve you
wheresomever ye ride or go, for the curteist knight thou art, and
meekest unto all ladies and gentlewomen, that now liveth. But
one thing, sir knight, methinketh ye lack, ye that are a knight
wifeless, that he will not love some maiden or gentlewoman, for I
could never hear say that ever ye loved any of no manner degree,
and that is great pity; but it is noised that ye love Queen
Guenever, and that she hath ordained by enchantment that ye shall
never love none other but her, nor none other damosel nor lady
shall rejoice you; wherefore many in this land, of high estate
and low, make great sorrow.
Fair damosel, said Sir Launcelot, I may not warn people to speak
of me what it pleaseth them; but for to be a wedded man, I think
it not; for then I must couch with her, and leave arms and
tournaments, battles, and adventures; and as for to say for to
take my pleasaunce with paramours, that will I refuse in
principal for dread of God; for knights that be adventurous
or lecherous shall not be happy nor fortunate unto the wars, for
other they shall be overcome with a simpler knight than they be
themselves, other else they shall by unhap and their cursedness
slay better men than they be themselves. And so who that useth
paramours shall be unhappy, and all thing is unhappy that is
about them.
And so Sir Launcelot and she departed. And then he rode in a
deep forest two days and more, and had strait lodging. So on the
third day he rode over a long bridge, and there stert upon him
suddenly a passing foul churl, and he smote his horse on the nose
that he turned about, and asked him why he rode over that bridge
without his licence. Why should I not ride this way? said Sir
Launcelot, I may not ride beside. Thou shalt not choose, said
the churl, and lashed at him with a great club shod with iron.
Then Sir Launcelot drew his sword and put the stroke aback, and
clave his head unto the paps. At the end of the bridge was a
fair village, and all the people, men and women, cried on Sir
Launcelot, and said, A worse deed didst thou never for thyself,
for thou hast slain the chief porter of our castle. Sir
Launcelot let them say what they would, and straight he went into
the castle; and when he came into the castle he alighted, and
tied his horse to a ring on the wall and there he saw a fair
green court, and thither he dressed him, for there him thought
was a fair place to fight in. So he looked about, and saw much
people in doors and windows that said, Fair knight, thou art
unhappy.
ANON withal came there upon him two great giants, well armed all
save the heads, with two horrible clubs in their hands. Sir
Launcelot put his shield afore him and put the stroke away of the
one giant, and with his sword he clave his head asunder.
When his fellow saw that, he ran away as he were wood, for fear
of the horrible strokes, and Launcelot after him with all his
might, and smote him on the shoulder, and clave him to the navel.
Then Sir Launcelot went into the hall, and there came afore him
three score ladies and damosels, and all kneeled unto him, and
thanked God and him of their deliverance; For sir, said they, the
most party of us have been here this seven year their prisoners,
and we have worked all manner of silk works for our meat, and we
are all great gentlewomen born; and blessed be the time, knight,
that ever thou be born, for thou hast done the most worship that
ever did knight in this world, that will we bear record, and we
all pray you to tell us your name, that we may tell our friends
who delivered us out of prison. Fair damosel, he said, my name
is Sir Launcelot du Lake. Ah, sir, said they all, well mayest
thou be he, for else save yourself, as we deemed, there might
never knight have the better of these two giants; for many fair
knights have assayed it, and here have ended, and many times have
we wished after you, and these two giants dread never knight but
you. Now may ye say, said Sir Launcelot, unto your friends how
and who hath delivered you, and greet them all from me, and if
that I come in any of your marches, show me such cheer as ye have
cause, and what treasure that there in this castle is I give it
you for a reward for your grievance, and the lord that is owner
of this castle I would he received it as is right. Fair sir,
said they, the name of this castle is Tintagil, and a duke ought
it sometime that had wedded fair Igraine, and after wedded her
Uther Pendragon, and gat on her Arthur. Well, said Sir
Launcelot, I understand to whom this castle longeth; and so he
departed from them, and betaught them unto God.
And then he mounted upon his horse, and rode into many strange
and wild countries, and through many waters and valleys, and evil
was he lodged. And at the last by fortune him happened, against
a night, to come to a fair courtelage, and therein he found an
old gentlewoman that lodged him with good will, and there he had
good cheer for him and his horse. And when time was, his
host brought him into a fair garret, over the gate, to his bed.
There Sir Launcelot unarmed him, and set his harness by him, and
went to bed, and anon he fell asleep. So, soon after, there came
one on horseback, and knocked at the gate in great haste, and
when Sir Launcelot heard this, he arose up and looked out at the
window, and saw by the moonlight three knights came riding after
that one man, and all three lashed on him at once with swords,
and that one knight turned on them knightly again, and defended
him. Truly, said Sir Launcelot, yonder one knight shall I help,
for it were shame for me to see three knights on one, and if he
be slain I am partner of his death; and therewith he took his
harness, and went out at a window by a sheet down to the four
knights, and then Sir Launcelot said on high, Turn you knights
unto me, and leave your fighting with that knight. And then they
all three left Sir Kay, and turned unto Sir Launcelot, and there
began great battle, for they alighted all three, and struck many
great strokes at Sir Launcelot, and assailed him on every side.
Then Sir Kay dressed him for to have holpen Sir Launcelot. Nay,
sir, said he, I will none of your help; therefore as ye will have
my help, let me alone with them. Sir Kay, for the pleasure of
the knight, suffered him for to do his will, and so stood aside.
And then anon within six strokes, Sir Launcelot had stricken them
to the earth.
And then they all three cried: Sir knight, we yield us unto you
as a man of might makeless. As to that, said Sir Launcelot, I
will not take your yielding unto me. But so that ye will yield
you unto Sir Kay the Seneschal, on that covenant I will save your
lives, and else not. Fair knight, said they, that were we loath
to do; for as for Sir Kay, we chased him hither, and had overcome
him had not ye been, therefore to yield us unto him it were no
reason. Well, as to that, said Launcelot, advise you well, for
ye may choose whether ye will die or live, for an ye be yolden it
shall be unto Sir Kay. Fair knight, then they said, in saving of
our lives we will do as thou commandest us. Then shall ye,
said Sir Launcelot, on Whitsunday next coming, go unto the court
of King Arthur, and there shall ye yield you unto Queen Guenever,
and put you all three in her grace and mercy, and say that Sir
Kay sent you thither to be her prisoners. Sir, they said, it
shall be done by the faith of our bodies, an we be living, and
there they swore every knight upon his sword. And so Sir
Launcelot suffered them so to depart. And then Sir Launcelot
knocked at the gate with the pommel of his sword, and with that
came his host, and in they entered Sir Kay and he. Sir, said his
host, I weened ye had been in your bed. So I was, said Sir
Launcelot, but I rose and leapt out at my window for to help an
old fellow of mine. And so when they came nigh the light, Sir
Kay knew well that it was Sir Launcelot, and therewith he kneeled
down and thanked him of all his kindness that he had holpen him
twice from the death. Sir, he said, I have nothing done but that
me ought for to do, and ye are welcome, and here shall ye repose
you and take your rest.
So when Sir Kay was unarmed, he asked after meat; so there was
meat fetched him, and he ate strongly. And when he had supped
they went to their beds and were lodged together in one bed. On
the morn Sir Launcelot arose early, and left Sir Kay sleeping,
and Sir Launcelot took Sir Kay's armour and his shield, and armed
him, and so he went to the stable, and took his horse, and took
his leave of his host, and so he departed. Then soon after arose
Sir Kay and missed Sir Launcelot. And then he espied that he had
his armour and his horse. Now by my faith I know well that he
will grieve some of the court of King Arthur; for on him knights
will be bold, and deem that it is I, and that will beguile them.
And because of his armour and shield I am sure I shall ride in
peace. And then soon after departed Sir Kay and thanked his
host.
NOW turn we unto Sir Launcelot that had ridden long in a great
forest, and at the last he came into a low country, full of fair
rivers and meadows. And afore him he saw a long bridge, and
three pavilions stood thereon, of silk and sendal of divers hue.
And without the pavilions hung three white shields on truncheons
of spears, and great long spears stood upright by the pavilions,
and at every pavilion's door stood three fresh squires, and so
Sir Launcelot passed by them and spake no word. When he was
passed the three knights said them that it was the proud Kay; He
weeneth no knight so good as he, and the contrary is ofttime
proved. By my faith, said one of the knights, his name was Sir
Gaunter, I will ride after him and assay him for all his pride,
and ye may behold how that I speed. So this knight, Sir Gaunter,
armed him, and hung his shield upon his shoulder, and mounted
upon a great horse, and gat his spear in his hand, and walloped
after Sir Launcelot. And when he came nigh him, he cried, Abide,
thou proud knight Sir Kay, for thou shalt not pass quit. So Sir
Launcelot turned him, and either feutred their spears, and came
together with all their mights, and Sir Gaunter's spear brake,
but Sir Launcelot smote him down horse and man. And when Sir
Gaunter was at the earth his brethren said each one to other,
Yonder knight is not Sir Kay, for he is bigger than he. I dare
lay my head, said Sir Gilmere, yonder knight hath slain Sir Kay
and hath taken his horse and his harness. Whether it be so or
no, said Sir Raynold, the third brother, let us now go mount upon
our horses and rescue our brother Sir Gaunter, upon pain of
death. We all shall have work enough to match that knight, for
ever meseemeth by his person it is Sir Launcelot, or Sir
Tristram, or Sir Pelleas, the good knight.
Then anon they took their horses and overtook Sir Launcelot, and
Sir Gilmere put forth his spear, and ran to Sir Launcelot, and
Sir Launcelot smote him down that he lay in a swoon. Sir knight,
said Sir Raynold, thou art a strong man, and as I suppose thou
hast slain my two brethren, for the which raseth my heart sore
against thee, and if I might with my worship I would not have ado
with you, but needs I must take part as they do, and therefore,
knight, he said, keep thyself. And so they hurtled together with
all their mights, and all to-shivered both their spears. And
then they drew their swords and lashed together eagerly. Anon
therewith arose Sir Gaunter, and came unto his brother Sir
Gilmere, and bade him, Arise, and help we our brother Sir
Raynold, that yonder marvellously matched yonder good knight.
Therewithal, they leapt on their horses and hurtled unto Sir
Launcelot.
And when he saw them come he smote a sore stroke unto Sir
Raynold, that he fell off his horse to the ground, and then he
struck to the other two brethren, and at two strokes he struck
them down to the earth. With that Sir Raynold began to start up
with his head all bloody, and came straight unto Sir Launcelot.
Now let be, said Sir Launcelot, I was not far from thee when thou
wert made knight, Sir Raynold, and also I know thou art a good
knight, and loath I were to slay thee. Gramercy, said Sir
Raynold, as for your goodness; and I dare say as for me and my
brethren, we will not be loath to yield us unto you, with that we
knew your name, for well we know ye are not Sir Kay. As for that
be it as it be may, for ye shall yield you unto dame Guenever,
and look that ye be with her on Whitsunday, and yield you unto
her as prisoners, and say that Sir Kay sent you unto her. Then
they swore it should be done, and so passed forth Sir Launcelot,
and each one of the brethren holp other as well as they might.
SO Sir Launcelot rode into a deep forest, and thereby in a slade,
he saw four knights hoving under an oak, and they were of
Arthur's court, one was Sir Sagramour le Desirous, and Ector de
Maris, and Sir Gawaine, and Sir Uwaine. Anon as these four
knights had espied Sir Launcelot, they weened by his arms it had
been Sir Kay. Now by my faith, said Sir Sagramour, I will prove
Sir Kay's might, and gat his spear in his hand, and came toward
Sir Launcelot. Therewith Sir Launcelot was ware and knew him
well, and feutred his spear against him, and smote Sir Sagramour
so sore that horse and man fell both to the earth. Lo, my
fellows, said he, yonder ye may see what a buffet he hath; that
knight is much bigger than ever was Sir Kay. Now shall ye see
what I may do to him. So Sir Ector gat his spear in his hand and
walloped toward Sir Launcelot, and Sir Launcelot smote him
through the shield and shoulder, that man and horse went to the
earth, and ever his spear held.
By my faith, said Sir Uwaine, yonder is a strong knight, and I am
sure he hath slain Sir Kay; and I see by his great strength it
will be hard to match him. And therewithal, Sir Uwaine gat his
spear in his hand and rode toward Sir Launcelot, and Sir
Launcelot knew him well, and so he met him on the plain, and gave
him such a buffet that he was astonied, that long he wist not
where he was. Now see I well, said Sir Gawaine, I must encounter
with that knight. Then he dressed his shield and gat a good
spear in his hand, and Sir Launcelot knew him well; and then they
let run their horses with all their mights, and either knight
smote other in midst of the shield. But Sir Gawaine's spear to-
brast, and Sir Launcelot charged so sore upon him that his horse
reversed up-so-down. And much sorrow had Sir Gawaine to
avoid his horse, and so Sir Launcelot passed on a pace and
smiled, and said, God give him joy that this spear made, for
there came never a better in my hand.
Then the four knights went each one to other and comforted each
other. What say ye by this guest? said Sir Gawaine, that one
spear hath felled us all four. We commend him unto the devil,
they said all, for he is a man of great might. Ye may well say
it, said Sir Gawaine, that he is a man of might, for I dare lay
my head it is Sir Launcelot, I know it by his riding. Let him
go, said Sir Gawaine, for when we come to the court then shall we
wit; and then had they much sorrow to get their horses again.
NOW leave we there and speak of Sir Launcelot that rode a great
while in a deep forest, where he saw a black brachet, seeking in
manner as it had been in the feute of an hurt deer. And
therewith he rode after the brachet, and he saw lie on the ground
a large feute of blood. And then Sir Launcelot rode after. And
ever the brachet looked behind her, and so she went through a
great marsh, and ever Sir Launcelot followed. And then was he
ware of an old manor, and thither ran the brachet, and so over
the bridge. So Sir Launcelot rode over that bridge that was old
and feeble; and when he came in midst of a great hall, there he
saw lie a dead knight that was a seemly man, and that brachet
licked his wounds. And therewithal came out a lady weeping and
wringing her hands; and then she said, O knight, too much sorrow
hast thou brought me. Why say ye so? said Sir Launcelot, I did
never this knight no harm, for hither by feute of blood this
brachet brought me; and therefore, fair lady, be not displeased
with me, for I am full sore aggrieved of your grievance. Truly,
sir, she said, I trow it be not ye that hath slain my husband,
for he that did that deed is sore wounded, and he is never likely
to recover, that shall I ensure him. What was your husband's
name? said Sir Launcelot. Sir, said she, his name was called Sir
Gilbert the Bastard, one of the best knights of the world, and he
that hath slain him I know not his name. Now God send you better
comfort, said Sir Launcelot; and so he departed and went into the
forest again, and there he met with a damosel, the which knew him
well, and she said aloud, Well be ye found, my lord; and now I
require thee, on thy knighthood, help my brother that is sore
wounded, and never stinteth bleeding; for this day he fought with
Sir Gilbert the Bastard and slew him in plain battle, and there
was my brother sore wounded, and there is a lady a sorceress that
dwelleth in a castle here beside, and this day she told me my
brother's wounds should never be whole till I could find a knight
that would go into the Chapel Perilous, and there he should find
a sword and a bloody cloth that the wounded knight was lapped in,
and a piece of that cloth and sword should heal my brother's
wounds, so that his wounds were searched with the sword and the
cloth. This is a marvellous thing, said Sir Launcelot, but what
is your brother's name? Sir, she said, his name was Sir Meliot
de Logres. That me repenteth, said Sir Launcelot, for he is a
fellow of the Table Round, and to his help I will do my power.
Then, sir, said she, follow even this highway, and it will bring
you unto the Chapel Perilous; and here I shall abide till God
send you here again, and, but you speed, I know no knight living
that may achieve that adventure
RIGHT so Sir Launcelot departed, and when he came unto the Chapel
Perilous he alighted down, and tied his horse unto a little gate.
And as soon as he was within the churchyard he saw on the front
of the chapel many fair rich shields turned up-so-down, and many
of the shields Sir Launcelot had seen knights bear beforehand.
With that he saw by him there stand a thirty great knights, more
by a yard than any man that ever he had seen, and all those
grinned and gnashed at Sir Launcelot. And when he saw their
countenance he dreaded him sore, and so put his shield afore him,
and took his sword ready in his hand ready unto battle, and they
were all armed in black harness ready with their shields and
their swords drawn. And when Sir Launcelot would have gone
throughout them, they scattered on every side of him, and gave
him the way, and therewith he waxed all bold, and entered into
the chapel, and then he saw no light but a dim lamp burning, and
then was he ware of a corpse hilled with a cloth of silk. Then
Sir Launcelot stooped down, and cut a piece away of that cloth,
and then it fared under him as the earth had quaked a little;
therewithal he feared. And then he saw a fair sword lie by the
dead knight, and that he gat in his hand and hied him out of the
chapel.
Anon as ever he was in the chapel yard all the knights spake to
him with a grimly voice, and said, Knight, Sir Launcelot, lay
that sword from thee or else thou shalt die. Whether that I live
or die, said Sir Launcelot, with no great word get ye it again,
therefore fight for it an ye list. Then right so he passed
throughout them, and beyond the chapel yard there met him a fair
damosel, and said, Sir Launcelot, leave that sword behind thee,
or thou wilt die for it. I leave it not, said Sir Launcelot, for
no treaties. No, said she, an thou didst leave that sword,
Queen Guenever should thou never see. Then were I a fool an I
would leave this sword, said Launcelot. Now, gentle knight, said
the damosel, I require thee to kiss me but once. Nay, said Sir
Launcelot, that God me forbid. Well, sir, said she, an thou
hadst kissed me thy life days had been done, but now, alas, she
said, I have lost all my labour, for I ordained this chapel for
thy sake, and for Sir Gawaine. And once I had Sir Gawaine within
me, and at that time he fought with that knight that lieth there
dead in yonder chapel, Sir Gilbert the Bastard; and at that time
he smote the left hand off of Sir Gilbert the Bastard. And, Sir
Launcelot, now I tell thee, I have loved thee this seven year,
but there may no woman have thy love but Queen Guenever. But
sithen I may not rejoice thee to have thy body alive, I had kept
no more joy in this world but to have thy body dead. Then would
I have balmed it and served it, and so have kept it my life days,
and daily I should have clipped thee, and kissed thee, in despite
of Queen Guenever. Ye say well, said Sir Launcelot, Jesu
preserve me from your subtle crafts. And therewithal he took his
horse and so departed from her. And as the book saith, when Sir
Launcelot was departed she took such sorrow that she died within
a fourteen night, and her name was Hellawes the sorceress, Lady
of the Castle Nigramous.
Anon Sir Launcelot met with the damosel, Sir Meliot's sister.
And when she saw him she clapped her hands, and wept for joy.
And then they rode unto a castle thereby where lay Sir Meliot.
And anon as Sir Launcelot saw him he knew him, but he was passing
pale, as the earth, for bleeding. When Sir Meliot saw Sir
Launcelot he kneeled upon his knees and cried on high: O lord
Sir Launcelot, help me! Anon Sir Launcelot leapt unto him and
touched his wounds with Sir Gilbert's sword. And then he wiped
his wounds with a part of the bloody cloth that Sir Gilbert was
wrapped in, and anon an wholer man in his life was he never. And
then there was great joy between them, and they made Sir
Launcelot all the cheer that they might, and so on the morn
Sir Launcelot took his leave, and bade Sir Meliot hie him to the
court of my lord Arthur, for it draweth nigh to the Feast of
Pentecost, and there by the grace of God ye shall find me. And
therewith they departed.
AND so Sir Launcelot rode through many strange countries, over
marshes and valleys, till by fortune he came to a fair castle,
and as he passed beyond the castle him thought he heard two bells
ring. And then was he ware of a falcon came flying over his head
toward an high elm, and long lunes about her feet, and as she
flew unto the elm to take her perch the lunes over-cast about a
bough. And when she would have taken her flight she hung by the
legs fast; and Sir Launcelot saw how she hung, and beheld the
fair falcon perigot, and he was sorry for her.
The meanwhile came a lady out of the castle and cried on high: O
Launcelot, Launcelot, as thou art flower of all knights, help me
to get my hawk, for an my hawk be lost my lord will destroy me;
for I kept the hawk and she slipped from me, and if my lord my
husband wit it he is so hasty that he will slay me. What is your
lord's name? said Sir Launcelot. Sir, she said, his name is Sir
Phelot, a knight that longeth unto the King of Northgalis. Well,
fair lady, since that ye know my name, and require me of
knighthood to help you, I will do what I may to get your hawk,
and yet God knoweth I am an ill climber, and the tree is passing
high, and few boughs to help me withal. And therewith Sir
Launcelot alighted, and tied his horse to the same tree, and
prayed the lady to unarm him. And so when he was unarmed, he put
off all his clothes unto his shirt and breech, and with
might and force he clomb up to the falcon, and tied the lines to
a great rotten boyshe, and threw the hawk down and it withal.
Anon the lady gat the hawk in her hand; and therewithal came out
Sir Phelot out of the groves suddenly, that was her husband, all
armed and with his naked sword in his hand, and said: O knight
Launcelot, now have I found thee as I would, and stood at the
bole of the tree to slay him. Ah, lady, said Sir Launcelot, why
have ye betrayed me? She hath done, said Sir Phelot, but as I
commanded her, and therefore there nis none other boot but thine
hour is come that thou must die. That were shame unto thee, said
Sir Launcelot, thou an armed knight to slay a naked man by
treason. Thou gettest none other grace, said Sir Phelot, and
therefore help thyself an thou canst. Truly, said Sir Launcelot,
that shall be thy shame, but since thou wilt do none other, take
mine harness with thee, and hang my sword upon a bough that I may
get it, and then do thy best to slay me an thou canst. Nay, nay,
said Sir Phelot, for I know thee better than thou weenest,
therefore thou gettest no weapon, an I may keep you therefrom.
Alas, said Sir Launcelot, that ever a knight should die
weaponless. And therewith he waited above him and under him, and
over his head he saw a rownsepyk, a big bough leafless, and
therewith he brake it off by the body. And then he came lower
and awaited how his own horse stood, and suddenly he leapt on the
further side of the horse, fro-ward the knight. And then Sir
Phelot lashed at him eagerly, weening to have slain him. But Sir
Launcelot put away the stroke with the rownsepyk, and therewith
he smote him on the one side of the head, that he fell down in a
swoon to the ground. So then Sir Launcelot took his sword out of
his hand, and struck his neck from the body. Then cried the
lady, Alas ! why hast thou slain my husband? I am not causer,
said Sir Launcelot, for with falsehood ye would have had slain me
with treason, and now it is fallen on you both. And then she
swooned as though she would die. And therewithal Sir
Launcelot gat all his armour as well as he might, and put it upon
him for dread of more resort, for he dreaded that the knight's
castle was so nigh. And so, as soon as he might, he took his
horse and departed, and thanked God that he had escaped that
adventure.
SO Sir Launcelot rode many wild ways, throughout marches and many
wild ways. And as he rode in a valley he saw a knight chasing a
lady, with a naked sword, to have slain her. And by fortune as
this knight should have slain this lady, she cried on Sir
Launcelot and prayed him to rescue her. When Sir Launcelot saw
that mischief, he took his horse and rode between them, saying,
Knight, fie for shame, why wilt thou slay this lady? thou dost
shame unto thee and all knights. What hast thou to do betwixt me
and my wife? said the knight. I will slay her maugre thy head.
That shall ye not, said Sir Launcelot, for rather we two will
have ado together. Sir Launcelot, said the knight, thou dost not
thy part, for this lady hath betrayed me. It is not so, said the
lady, truly he saith wrong on me. And for because I love and
cherish my cousin germain, he is jealous betwixt him and me; and
as I shall answer to God there was never sin betwixt us. But,
sir, said the lady, as thou art called the worshipfullest knight
of the world, I require thee of true knighthood, keep me and save
me. For whatsomever ye say he will slay me, for he is without
mercy. Have ye no doubt, said Launcelot, it shall not lie in his
power. Sir, said the knight, in your sight I will be ruled as ye
will have me. And so Sir Launcelot rode on the one side and she
on the other: he had not ridden but a while, but the knight bade
Sir Launcelot turn him and look behind him, and said, Sir,
yonder come men of arms after us riding. And so Sir Launcelot
turned him and thought no treason, and therewith was the knight
and the lady on one side, and suddenly he swapped off his lady's
head.
And when Sir Launcelot had espied him what he had done, he said,
and called him, Traitor, thou hast shamed me for ever. And
suddenly Sir Launcelot alighted off his horse, and pulled out his
sword to slay him, and therewithal he fell flat to the earth, and
gripped Sir Launcelot by the thighs, and cried mercy. Fie on
thee, said Sir Launcelot, thou shameful knight, thou mayest have
no mercy, and therefore arise and fight with me. Nay, said the
knight, I will never arise till ye grant me mercy. Now will I
proffer thee fair, said Launcelot, I will unarm me unto my shirt,
and I will have nothing upon me but my shirt, and my sword and my
hand. And if thou canst slay me, quit be thou for ever. Nay,
sir, said Pedivere, that will I never. Well, said Sir Launcelot,
take this lady and the head, and bear it upon thee, and here
shalt thou swear upon my sword, to bear it always upon thy back,
and never to rest till thou come to Queen Guenever. Sir, said
he, that will I do, by the faith of my body. Now, said
Launcelot, tell me what is your name? Sir, my name is Pedivere.
In a shameful hour wert thou born, said Launcelot.
So Pedivere departed with the dead lady and the head, and found
the queen with King Arthur at Winchester, and there he told all
the truth. Sir knight, said the queen, this is an horrible deed
and a shameful, and a great rebuke unto Sir Launcelot; but
notwithstanding his worship is not known in many divers
countries; but this shall I give you in penance, make ye as good
shift as ye can, ye shall bear this lady with you on horseback
unto the Pope of Rome, and of him receive your penance for your
foul deeds; and ye shall never rest one night whereas ye do
another; an ye go to any bed the dead body shall lie with you.
This oath there he made, and so departed. And as it telleth in
the French book, when he came to Rome, the Pope bade him go
again unto Queen Guenever, and in Rome was his lady buried by the
Pope's commandment. And after this Sir Pedivere fell to great
goodness, and was an holy man and an hermit.
NOW turn we unto Sir Launcelot du Lake, that came home two days
afore the Feast of Pentecost; and the king and all the court were
passing fain of his coming. And when Sir Gawaine, Sir Uwaine,
Sir Sagramore, Sir Ector de Maris, saw Sir Launcelot in Kay's
armour, then they wist well it was he that smote them down all
with one spear. Then there was laughing and smiling among them.
And ever now and now came all the knights home that Sir Turquine
had prisoners, and they all honoured and worshipped Sir
Launcelot.
When Sir Gaheris heard them speak, he said, I saw all the battle
from the beginning to the ending, and there he told King Arthur
all how it was, and how Sir Turquine was the strongest knight
that ever he saw except Sir Launcelot: there were many knights
bare him record, nigh three score. Then Sir Kay told the king
how Sir Launcelot had rescued him when he should have been slain,
and how he made the knights yield them to me, and not to him.
And there they were all three, and bare record. And by Jesu,
said Sir Kay, because Sir Launcelot took my harness and left me
his I rode in good peace, and no man would have ado with me.
Anon therewithal there came the three knights that fought with
Sir Launcelot at the long bridge. And there they yielded them
unto Sir Kay, and Sir Kay forsook them and said he fought never
with them. But I shall ease your heart, said Sir Kay, yonder is
Sir Launcelot that overcame you. When they wist that they
were glad. And then Sir Meliot de Logres came home, and told the
king how Sir Launcelot had saved him from the death. And all his
deeds were known, how four queens, sorceresses, had him in
prison, and how he was delivered by King Bagdemagus' daughter.
Also there were told all the great deeds of arms that Sir
Launcelot did betwixt the two kings, that is for to say the King
of Northgalis and King Bagdemagus. All the truth Sir Gahalantine
did tell, and Sir Mador de la Porte and Sir Mordred, for they
were at that same tournament. Then came in the lady that knew
Sir Launcelot when that he wounded Sir Belleus at the pavilion.
And there, at request of Sir Launcelot, Sir Belleus was made
knight of the Round Table. And so at that time Sir Launcelot had
the greatest name of any knight of the world, and most he was
honoured of high and low.
Explicit the noble tale of Sir Launcelot du Lake,
which is the vi. book. Here followeth the tale of
Sir Gareth of Orkney that was called Beaumains
by Sir Kay, and is the seventh book.
WHEN Arthur held his Round Table most plenour, it fortuned that
he commanded that the high feast of Pentecost should be holden at
a city and a castle, the which in those days was called Kynke
Kenadonne, upon the sands that marched nigh Wales. So ever the
king had a custom that at the feast of Pentecost in especial,
afore other feasts in the year, he would not go that day to meat
until he had heard or seen of a great marvel. And for that
custom all manner of strange adventures came before Arthur as at
that feast before all other feasts. And so Sir Gawaine, a little
to-fore noon of the day of Pentecost, espied at a window three
men upon horseback, and a dwarf on foot, and so the three men
alighted, and the dwarf kept their horses, and one of the three
men was higher than the other twain by a foot and an half. Then
Sir Gawaine went unto the king and said, Sir, go to your meat,
for here at the hand come strange adventures. So Arthur went
unto his meat with many other kings. And there were all the
knights of the Round Table, [save] only those that were prisoners
or slain at a recounter. Then at the high feast evermore they
should be fulfilled the whole number of an hundred and fifty, for
then was the Round Table fully complished.
Right so came into the hall two men well beseen and richly,
and upon their shoulders there leaned the goodliest young man and
the fairest that ever they all saw, and he was large and long,
and broad in the shoulders, and well visaged, and the fairest and
the largest handed that ever man saw, but he fared as though he
might not go nor bear himself but if he leaned upon their
shoulders. Anon as Arthur saw him there was made peace and room,
and right so they yede with him unto the high dais, without
saying of any words. Then this much young man pulled him aback,
and easily stretched up straight, saying, King Arthur, God you
bless and all your fair fellowship, and in especial the
fellowship of the Table Round. And for this cause I am come
hither, to pray you and require you to give me three gifts, and
they shall not be unreasonably asked, but that ye may
worshipfully and honourably grant them me, and to you no great
hurt nor loss. And the first don and gift I will ask now, and
the other two gifts I will ask this day twelvemonth, wheresomever
ye hold your high feast. Now ask, said Arthur, and ye shall have
your asking.
Now, sir, this is my petition for this feast, that ye will give
me meat and drink sufficiently for this twelvemonth, and at that
day I will ask mine other two gifts.
My fair son, said Arthur, ask better, I counsel thee, for this is
but a simple asking; for my heart giveth me to thee greatly, that
thou art come of men of worship, and greatly my conceit faileth
me but thou shalt prove a man of right great worship. Sir, he
said, thereof be as it be may, I have asked that I will ask.
Well, said the king, ye shall have meat and drink enough; I never
defended that none, neither my friend nor my foe. But what is
thy name I would wit? I cannot tell you, said he. That is
marvel, said the king, that thou knowest not thy name, and thou
art the goodliest young man that ever I saw. Then the king
betook him to Sir Kay the steward, and charged him that he should
give him of all manner of meats and drinks of the best, and also
that he had all manner of finding as though he were a lord's son.
That shall little need, said Sir Kay, to do such cost upon him;
for I dare undertake he is a villain born, and never will
make man, for an he had come of gentlemen he would have asked of
you horse and armour, but such as he is, so he asketh. And
sithen he hath no name, I shall give him a name that shall be
Beaumains, that is Fair-hands, and into the kitchen I shall bring
him, and there he shall have fat brose every day, that he shall
be as fat by the twelvemonths' end as a pork hog. Right so the
two men departed and beleft him to Sir Kay, that scorned him and
mocked him.
THEREAT was Sir Gawaine wroth, and in especial Sir Launcelot bade
Sir Kay leave his mocking, for I dare lay my head he shall prove
a man of great worship. Let be said Sir Kay, it may not be by no
reason, for as he is, so he hath asked. Beware, said Sir
Launcelot, so ye gave the good knight Brewnor, Sir Dinadan's
brother, a name, and ye called him La Cote Male Taile, and that
turned you to anger afterward. As for that, said Sir Kay, this
shall never prove none such. For Sir Brewnor desired ever
worship, and this desireth bread and drink and broth; upon pain
of my life he was fostered up in some abbey, and, howsomever it
was, they failed meat and drink, and so hither he is come for his
sustenance.
And so Sir Kay bade get him a place, and sit down to meat; so
Beaumains went to the hall door, and set him down among boys and
lads, and there he ate sadly. And then Sir Launcelot after meat
bade him come to his chamber, and there he should have meat and
drink enough. And so did Sir Gawaine: but he refused them all;
he would do none other but as Sir Kay commanded him, for no
proffer. But as touching Sir Gawaine, he had reason to
proffer him lodging, meat, and drink, for that proffer came
of his blood, for he was nearer kin to him than he wist. But
that as Sir Launcelot did was of his great gentleness and
courtesy.
So thus he was put into the kitchen, and lay nightly as the boys
of the kitchen did. And so he endured all that twelvemonth, and
never displeased man nor child, but always he was meek and mild.
But ever when that he saw any jousting of knights, that would he
see an he might. And ever Sir Launcelot would give him gold to
spend, and clothes, and so did Sir Gawaine, and where there were
any masteries done, thereat would he be, and there might none
cast bar nor stone to him by two yards. Then would Sir Kay say,
How liketh you my boy of the kitchen? So it passed on till the
feast of Whitsuntide. And at that time the king held it at
Carlion in the most royallest wise that might be, like as he did
yearly. But the king would no meat eat upon the Whitsunday,
until he heard some adventures. Then came there a squire to the
king and said, Sir, ye may go to your meat, for here cometh a
damosel with some strange adventures. Then was the king glad and
sat him down.
Right so there came a damosel into the hall and saluted the king,
and prayed him of succour. For whom? said the king, what is the
adventure?
Sir, she said, I have a lady of great worship and renown, and she
is besieged with a tyrant, so that she may not out of her castle;
and because here are called the noblest knights of the world, I
come to you to pray you of succour. What hight your lady, and
where dwelleth she, and who is she, and what is his name that
hath besieged her? Sir king, she said, as for my lady's name
that shall not ye know for me as at this time, but I let you wit
she is a lady of great worship and of great lands; and as for the
tyrant that besiegeth her and destroyeth her lands, he is called
the Red Knight of the Red Launds. I know him not, said the king.
Sir, said Sir Gawaine, I know him well, for he is one of the
perilloust knights of the world; men say that he hath seven men's
strength, and from him I escaped once full hard with my
life. Fair damosel, said the king, there be knights here would
do their power for to rescue your lady, but because you will not
tell her name, nor where she dwelleth, therefore none of my
knights that here be now shall go with you by my will. Then must
I speak further, said the damosel.
WITH these words came before the king Beaumains, while the
damosel was there, and thus he said, Sir king, God thank you, I
have been this twelvemonth in your kitchen, and have had my full
sustenance, and now I will ask my two gifts that be behind. Ask,
upon my peril, said the king. Sir, this shall be my two gifts,
first that ye will grant me to have this adventure of the
damosel, for it belongeth unto me. Thou shalt have it, said the
king, I grant it thee. Then, sir, this is the other gift, that
ye shall bid Launcelot du Lake to make me knight, for of him I
will be made knight and else of none. And when I am passed I
pray you let him ride after me, and make me knight when I require
him. All this shall be done, said the king. Fie on thee, said
the damosel, shall I have none but one that is your kitchen page?
Then was she wroth and took her horse and departed. And with
that there came one to Beaumains and told him his horse and
armour was come for him; and there was the dwarf come with all
thing that him needed, in the richest manner; thereat all the
court had much marvel from whence came all that gear. So when he
was armed there was none but few so goodly a man as he was; and
right so as he came into the hall and took his leave of King
Arthur, and Sir Gawaine, and Sir Launcelot, and prayed that he
would hie after him, and so departed and rode after the damosel.
BUT there went many after to behold how well he was horsed and
trapped in cloth of gold, but he had neither shield nor spear.
Then Sir Kay said all open in the hall, I will ride after my boy
in the kitchen, to wit whether he will know me for his better.
Said Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine, Yet abide at home. So Sir
Kay made him ready and took his horse and his spear, and rode
after him. And right as Beaumains overtook the damosel, right so
came Sir Kay and said, Beaumains, what, sir, know ye not me?
Then he turned his horse, and knew it was Sir Kay, that had done
him all the despite as ye have heard afore. Yea, said Beaumains,
I know you for an ungentle knight of the court, and therefore
beware of me. Therewith Sir Kay put his spear in the rest, and
ran straight upon him; and Beaumains came as fast upon him with
his sword in his hand, and so he put away his spear with his
sword, and with a foin thrust him through the side, that Sir Kay
fell down as he had been dead; and he alighted down and took Sir
Kay's shield and his spear, and stert upon his own horse and rode
his way.
All that saw Sir Launcelot, and so did the damosel. And then he
bade his dwarf stert upon Sir Kay's horse, and so he did. By
that Sir Launcelot was come, then he proffered Sir Launcelot to
joust; and either made them ready, and they came together so
fiercely that either bare down other to the earth, and sore were
they bruised. Then Sir Launcelot arose and helped him from his
horse. And then Beaumains threw his shield from him, and
proffered to fight with Sir Launcelot on foot; and so they rushed
together like boars, tracing, rasing, and foining to the
mountenance of an hour; and Sir Launcelot felt him so big
that he marvelled of his strength, for he fought more liker a
giant than a knight, and that his fighting was durable and
passing perilous. For Sir Launcelot had so much ado with him
that he dreaded himself to be shamed, and said, Beaumains, fight
not so sore, your quarrel and mine is not so great but we may
leave off. Truly that is truth, said Beaumains, but it doth me
good to feel your might, and yet, my lord, I showed not the
utterance.
IN God's name, said Sir Launcelot, for I promise you, by the
faith of my body, I had as much to do as I might to save myself
from you unshamed, and therefore have ye no doubt of none earthly
knight. Hope ye so that I may any while stand a proved knight?
said Beaumains. Yea, said Launcelot, do as ye have done, and I
shall be your warrant. Then, I pray you, said Beaumains, give me
the order of knighthood. Then must ye tell me your name, said
Launcelot, and of what kin ye be born. Sir, so that ye will not
discover me I shall, said Beaumains. Nay, said Sir Launcelot,
and that I promise you by the faith of my body, until it be
openly known. Then, sir, he said, my name is Gareth, and brother
unto Sir Gawaine of father and mother. Ah, sir, said Sir
Launcelot, I am more gladder of you than I was; for ever me
thought ye should be of great blood, and that ye came not to the
court neither for meat nor for drink. And then Sir Launcelot
gave him the order of knighthood, and then Sir Gareth prayed him
for to depart and let him go.
So Sir Launcelot departed from him and came to Sir Kay, and made
him to be borne home upon his shield, and so he was healed hard
with the life; and all men scorned Sir Kay, and in especial
Sir Gawaine and Sir Launcelot said it was not his part to rebuke
no young man, for full little knew he of what birth he is come,
and for what cause he came to this court; and so we leave Sir Kay
and turn we unto Beaumains.
When he had overtaken the damosel, anon she said, What dost thou
here? thou stinkest all of the kitchen, thy clothes be bawdy of
the grease and tallow that thou gainest in King Arthur's kitchen;
weenest thou, said she, that I allow thee, for yonder knight that
thou killest. Nay truly, for thou slewest him unhappily and
cowardly; therefore turn again, bawdy kitchen page, I know thee
well, for Sir Kay named thee Beaumains. What art thou but a lusk
and a turner of broaches and a ladle-washer? Damosel, said
Beaumains, say to me what ye will, I will not go from you
whatsomever ye say, for I have undertaken to King Arthur for to
achieve your adventure, and so shall I finish it to the end,
either I shall die therefore. Fie on thee, kitchen knave, wilt
thou finish mine adventure? thou shalt anon be met withal, that
thou wouldest not for all the broth that ever thou suppest once
look him in the face. I shall assay, said Beaumains.
So thus as they rode in the wood, there came a man flying all
that ever he might. Whither wilt thou? said Beaumains. O lord,
he said, help me, for here by in a slade are six thieves that
have taken my lord and bound him, so I am afeard lest they will
slay him. Bring me thither, said Beaumains. And so they rode
together until they came thereas was the knight bounden; and then
he rode unto them, and struck one unto the death, and then
another, and at the third stroke he slew the third thief, and
then the other three fled. And he rode after them, and he
overtook them; and then those three thieves turned again and
assailed Beaumains hard, but at the last he slew them, and
returned and unbound the knight. And the knight thanked him, and
prayed him to ride with him to his castle there a little beside,
and he should worshipfully reward him for his good deeds. Sir,
said Beaumains, I will no reward have: I was this day made knight
of noble Sir Launcelot, and therefore I will no reward have,
but God reward me. And also I must follow this damosel.
And when he came nigh her she bade him ride from her, For thou
smellest all of the kitchen: weenest thou that I have joy of
thee, for all this deed that thou hast done is but mishapped
thee: but thou shalt see a sight shall make thee turn again, and
that lightly. Then the same knight which was rescued of the
thieves rode after that damosel, and prayed her to lodge with him
all that night. And because it was near night the damosel rode
with him to his castle, and there they had great cheer, and at
supper the knight sat Sir Beaumains afore the damosel. Fie, fie,
said she, Sir knight, ye are uncourteous to set a kitchen page
afore me; him beseemeth better to stick a swine than to sit afore
a damosel of high parage. Then the knight was ashamed at her
words, and took him up, and set him at a sideboard, and set
himself afore him, and so all that night they had good cheer and
merry rest.
AND on the morn the damosel and he took their leave and thanked
the knight, and so departed, and rode on their way until they
came to a great forest. And there was a great river and but one
passage, and there were ready two knights on the farther side to
let them the passage. What sayest thou, said the damosel, wilt
thou match yonder knights or turn again? Nay, said Sir
Beaumains, I will not turn again an they were six more. And
therewithal he rushed into the water, and in midst of the water
either brake their spears upon other to their hands, and then
they drew their swords, and smote eagerly at other. And at the
last Sir Beaumains smote the other upon the helm that his head
stonied, and therewithal he fell down in the water, and there was
he drowned. And then he spurred his horse upon the land,
where the other knight fell upon him, and brake his spear, and so
they drew their swords and fought long together. At the last Sir
Beaumains clave his helm and his head down to the shoulders; and
so he rode unto the damosel and bade her ride forth on her way.
Alas, she said, that ever a kitchen page should have that fortune
to destroy such two doughty knights: thou weenest thou hast done
doughtily, that is not so; for the first knight his horse
stumbled, and there he was drowned in the water, and never it was
by thy force, nor by thy might. And the last knight by mishap
thou camest behind him and mishappily thou slew him.
Damosel, said Beaumains, ye may say what ye will, but with
whomsomever I have ado withal, I trust to God to serve him or he
depart. And therefore I reck not what ye say, so that I may win
your lady. Fie, fie, foul kitchen knave, thou shalt see knights
that shall abate thy boast. Fair damosel, give me goodly
language, and then my care is past, for what knights somever they
be, I care not, nor I doubt them not. Also, said she, I say it
for thine avail, yet mayest thou turn again with thy worship; for
an thou follow me, thou art but slain, for I see all that ever
thou dost is but by misadventure, and not by prowess of thy
hands. Well, damosel, ye may say what ye will, but wheresomever
ye go I will follow you. So this Beaumains rode with that lady
till evensong time, and ever she chid him, and would not rest.
And they came to a black laund; and there was a black hawthorn,
and thereon hung a black banner, and on the other side there hung
a black shield, and by it stood a black spear great and long, and
a great black horse covered with silk, and a black stone fast by.
THERE sat a knight all armed in black harness, and his name was
the Knight of the Black Laund. Then the damosel, when she saw
that knight, she bade him flee down that valley, for his horse
was not saddled. Gramercy, said Beaumains, for always ye would
have me a coward. With that the Black Knight, when she came nigh
him, spake and said, Damosel, have ye brought this knight of King
Arthur to be your champion? Nay, fair knight, said she, this is
but a kitchen knave that was fed in King Arthur's kitchen for
alms. Why cometh he, said the knight, in such array? it is shame
that he beareth you company. Sir, I cannot be delivered of him,
said she, for with me he rideth maugre mine head: God would that
ye should put him from me, other to slay him an ye may, for he is
an unhappy knave, and unhappily he hath done this day: through
mishap I saw him slay two knights at the passage of the water;
and other deeds he did before right marvellous and through
unhappiness. That marvelleth me, said the Black Knight, that any
man that is of worship will have ado with him. They know him
not, said the damosel, and for because he rideth with me, they
ween that he be some man of worship born. That may be, said the
Black Knight; howbeit as ye say that he be no man of worship, he
is a full likely person, and full like to be a strong man: but
thus much shall I grant you, said the Black Knight; I shall put
him down upon one foot, and his horse and his harness he shall
leave with me, for it were shame to me to do him any more harm.
When Sir Beaumains heard him say thus, he said, Sir knight, thou
art full large of my horse and my harness; I let thee wit it cost
thee nought, and whether it liketh thee or not, this laund will I
pass maugre thine head. And horse nor harness gettest thou
none of mine, but if thou win them with thy hands; and therefore
let see what thou canst do. Sayest thou that? said the Black
Knight, now yield thy lady from thee, for it beseemeth never a
kitchen page to ride with such a lady. Thou liest, said
Beaumains, I am a gentleman born, and of more high lineage than
thou, and that will I prove on thy body.
Then in great wrath they departed with their horses, and came
together as it had been the thunder, and the Black Knight's spear
brake, and Beaumains thrust him through both his sides, and
therewith his spear brake, and the truncheon left still in his
side. But nevertheless the Black Knight drew his sword, and
smote many eager strokes, and of great might, and hurt Beaumains
full sore. But at the last the Black Knight, within an hour and
an half, he fell down off his horse in swoon, and there he died.
And when Beaumains saw him so well horsed and armed, then he
alighted down and armed him in his armour, and so took his horse
and rode after the damosel.
When she saw him come nigh, she said, Away, kitchen knave, out of
the wind, for the smell of thy bawdy clothes grieveth me. Alas,
she said, that ever such a knave should by mishap slay so good a
knight as thou hast done, but all this is thine unhappiness. But
here by is one shall pay thee all thy payment, and therefore yet
I counsel thee, flee. It may happen me, said Beaumains, to be
beaten or slain, but I warn you, fair damosel, I will not flee
away, a nor leave your company, for all that ye can say; for ever
ye say that they will kill me or beat me, but howsomever it
happeneth I escape, and they lie on the ground. And therefore it
were as good for you to hold you still thus all day rebuking me,
for away will I not till I see the uttermost of this journey, or
else I will be slain, other truly beaten; therefore ride on your
way, for follow you I will whatsomever happen.
THUS as they rode together, they saw a knight come driving by
them all in green, both his horse and his harness; and when he
came nigh the damosel, he asked her, Is that my brother the Black
Knight that ye have brought with you? Nay, nay, she said, this
unhappy kitchen knave hath slain your brother through
unhappiness. Alas, said the Green Knight, that is great pity,
that so noble a knight as he was should so unhappily be slain,
and namely of a knave's hand, as ye say that he is. Ah! traitor,
said the Green Knight, thou shalt die for slaying of my brother;
he was a full noble knight, and his name was Sir Perard. I defy
thee, said Beaumains, for I let thee wit I slew him knightly and
not shamefully.
Therewithal the Green Knight rode unto an horn that was green,
and it hung upon a thorn, and there he blew three deadly motes,
and there came two damosels and armed him lightly. And then he
took a great horse, and a green shield and a green spear. And
then they ran together with all their mights, and brake their
spears unto their hands. And then they drew their swords, and
gave many sad strokes, and either of them wounded other full ill.
And at the last, at an overthwart, Beaumains with his horse
struck the Green Knight's horse upon the side, that he fell to
the earth. And then the Green Knight avoided his horse lightly,
and dressed him upon foot. That saw Beaumains, and therewithal
he alighted, and they rushed together like two mighty kemps a
long while, and sore they bled both. With that came the damosel,
and said, My lord the Green Knight, why for shame stand ye so
long fighting with the kitchen knave? Alas, it is shame that
ever ye were made knight, to see such a lad to match such a
knight, as the weed overgrew the corn. Therewith the Green
Knight was ashamed, and therewithal he gave a great stroke of
might, and clave his shield through. When Beaumains saw his
shield cloven asunder he was a little ashamed of that stroke and
of her language; and then he gave him such a buffet upon the helm
that he fell on his knees. And so suddenly Beaumains pulled him
upon the ground grovelling. And then the Green Knight cried him
mercy, and yielded him unto Sir Beaumains, and prayed him to slay
him not. All is in vain, said Beaumains, for thou shalt die but
if this damosel that came with me pray me to save thy life. And
therewithal he unlaced his helm like as he would slay him. Fie
upon thee, false kitchen page, I will never pray thee to save his
life, for I will never be so much in thy danger. Then shall he
die, said Beaumains. Not so hardy, thou bawdy knave, said the
damosel, that thou slay him. Alas, said the Green Knight, suffer
me not to die for a fair word may save me. Fair knight, said the
Green Knight, save my life, and I will forgive thee the death of
my brother, and for ever to become thy man, and thirty knights
that hold of me for ever shall do you service. In the devil's
name, said the damosel, that such a bawdy kitchen knave should
have thee and thirty knights' service.
Sir knight, said Beaumains, all this availeth thee not, but if my
damosel speak with me for thy life. And therewithal he made a
semblant to slay him. Let be, said the damosel, thou bawdy
knave; slay him not, for an thou do thou shalt repent it.
Damosel, said Beaumains, your charge is to me a pleasure, and at
your commandment his life shall be saved, and else not. Then he
said, Sir knight with the green arms, I release thee quit at this
damosel's request, for I will not make her wroth, I will fulfil
all that she chargeth me. And then the Green Knight kneeled
down, and did him homage with his sword. Then said the damosel,
Me repenteth, Green Knight, of your damage, and of your brother's
death, the Black Knight, for of your help I had great mister, for
I dread me sore to pass this forest. Nay, dread you not, said
the Green Knight, for ye shall lodge with me this night, and
to-morn I shall help you through this forest. So they took their
horses and rode to his manor, which was fast there beside.
AND ever she rebuked Beaumains, and would not suffer him to sit
at her table, but as the Green Knight took him and sat him at a
side table. Marvel methinketh, said the Green Knight to the
damosel, why ye rebuke this noble knight as ye do, for I warn
you, damosel, he is a full noble knight, and I know no knight is
able to match him; therefore ye do great wrong to rebuke him, for
he shall do you right good service, for whatsomever he maketh
himself, ye shall prove at the end that he is come of a noble
blood and of king's lineage. Fie, fie, said the damosel, it is
shame for you to say of him such worship. Truly, said the Green
Knight, it were shame for me to say of him any disworship, for he
hath proved himself a better knight than I am, yet have I met
with many knights in my days, and never or this time have I found
no knight his match. And so that night they yede unto rest, and
all that night the Green Knight commanded thirty knights privily
to watch Beaumains, for to keep him from all treason.
And so on the morn they all arose, and heard their mass and brake
their fast; and then they took their horses and rode on their
way, and the Green Knight conveyed them through the forest; and
there the Green Knight said, My lord Beaumains, I and these
thirty knights shall be always at your summons, both early and
late, at your calling and whither that ever ye will send us. It
is well said, said Beaumains; when that I call upon you ye must
yield you unto King Arthur, and all your knights. If that
ye so command us, we shall be ready at all times, said the Green
Knight. Fie, fie upon thee, in the devil's name, said the
damosel, that any good knights should be obedient unto a kitchen
knave. So then departed the Green Knight and the damosel. And
then she said unto Beaumains, Why followest thou me, thou kitchen
boy? Cast away thy shield and thy spear, and flee away; yet I
counsel thee betimes or thou shalt say right soon, alas; for wert
thou as wight as ever was Wade or Launcelot, Tristram, or the
good knight Sir Lamorak, thou shalt not pass a pass here that is
called the Pass Perilous. Damosel, said Beaumains, who is afeard
let him flee, for it were shame to turn again sithen I have
ridden so long with you. Well, said the damosel, ye shall soon,
whether ye will or not.
SO within a while they saw a tower as white as any snow, well
matchecold all about, and double dyked. And over the tower gate
there hung a fifty shields of divers colours, and under that
tower there was a fair meadow. And therein were many knights and
squires to behold, scaffolds and pavilions; for there upon the
morn should be a great tournament: and the lord of the tower was
in his castle and looked out at a window, and saw a damosel, a
dwarf, and a knight armed at all points. So God me help, said
the lord, with that knight will I joust, for I see that he is a
knight-errant. And so he armed him and horsed him hastily. And
when he was on horseback with his shield and his spear, it was
all red, both his horse and his harness, and all that to him
longeth. And when that he came nigh him he weened it had been
his brother the Black Knight; and then he cried aloud, Brother,
what do ye in these marches? Nay, nay, said the damosel, it
is not he; this is but a kitchen knave that was brought up for
alms in King Arthur's court. Nevertheless, said the Red Knight,
I will speak with him or he depart. Ah, said the damosel, this
knave hath killed thy brother, and Sir Kay named him Beaumains,
and this horse and this harness was thy brother's, the Black
Knight. Also I saw thy brother the Green Knight overcome of his
hands. Now may ye be revenged upon him, for I may never be quit
of him.
With this either knights departed in sunder, and they came
together with all their might, and either of their horses fell to
the earth, and they avoided their horses, and put their shields
afore them and drew their swords, and either gave other sad
strokes, now here, now there, rasing, tracing, foining, and
hurling like two boars, the space of two hours. And then she
cried on high to the Red Knight, Alas, thou noble Red Knight,
think what worship hath followed thee, let never a kitchen knave
endure thee so long as he doth. Then the Red Knight waxed wroth
and doubled his strokes, and hurt Beaumains wonderly sore, that
the blood ran down to the ground, that it was wonder to see that
strong battle. Yet at the last Sir Beaumains struck him to the
earth, and as he would have slain the Red Knight, he cried mercy,
saying, Noble knight, slay me not, and I shall yield me to thee
with fifty knights with me that be at my commandment. And I
forgive thee all the despite that thou hast done to me, and the
death of my brother the Black Knight. All this availeth not,
said Beaumains, but if my damosel pray me to save thy life. And
therewith he made semblant to strike off his head. Let be, thou
Beaumains, slay him not, for he is a noble knight, and not so
hardy, upon thine head, but thou save him.
Then Beaumains bade the Red Knight, Stand up, and thank the
damosel now of thy life. Then the Red Knight prayed him to see
his castle, and to be there all night. So the damosel then
granted him, and there they had merry cheer. But always the
damosel spake many foul words unto Beaumains, whereof the Red
Knight had great marvel; and all that night the Red Knight
made three score knights to watch Beaumains, that he should have
no shame nor villainy. And upon the morn they heard mass and
dined, and the Red Knight came before Beaumains with his three
score knights, and there he proffered him his homage and fealty
at all times, he and his knights to do him service. I thank you,
said Beaumains, but this ye shall grant me: when I call upon you,
to come afore my lord King Arthur, and yield you unto him to be
his knights. Sir, said the Red Knight, I will be ready, and my
fellowship, at your summons. So Sir Beaumains departed and the
damosel, and ever she rode chiding him in the foulest manner.
DAMOSEL, said Beaumains, ye are uncourteous so to rebuke me as ye
do, for meseemeth I have done you good service, and ever ye
threaten me I shall be beaten with knights that we meet, but ever
for all your boast they lie in the dust or in the mire, and
therefore I pray you rebuke me no more; and when ye see me beaten
or yielden as recreant, then may ye bid me go from you
shamefully; but first I let you wit I will not depart from you,
for I were worse than a fool an I would depart from you all the
while that I win worship. Well, said she, right soon there shall
meet a knight shall pay thee all thy wages, for he is the most
man of worship of the world, except King Arthur. I will well,
said Beaumains, the more he is of worship, the more shall be my
worship to have ado with him.
Then anon they were ware where was afore them a city rich and
fair. And betwixt them and the city a mile and an half there was
a fair meadow that seemed new mown, and therein were many
pavilions fair to behold. Lo, said the damosel, yonder is a
lord that owneth yonder city, and his custom is, when the weather
is fair, to lie in this meadow to joust and tourney. And ever
there be about him five hundred knights and gentlemen of arms,
and there be all manner of games that any gentleman can devise.
That goodly lord, said Beaumains, would I fain see. Thou shalt
see him time enough, said the damosel, and so as she rode near
she espied the pavilion where he was. Lo, said she, seest thou
yonder pavilion that is all of the colour of Inde, and all manner
of thing that there is about, men and women, and horses trapped,
shields and spears were all of the colour of Inde, and his name
is Sir Persant of Inde, the most lordliest knight that ever thou
lookedst on. It may well be, said Beaumains, but be he never so
stout a knight, in this field I shall abide till that I see him
under his shield. Ah, fool, said she, thou wert better flee
betimes. Why, said Beaumains, an he be such a knight as ye make
him, he will not set upon me with all his men, or with his five
hundred knights. For an there come no more but one at once, I
shall him not fail whilst my life lasteth. Fie, fie, said the
damosel, that ever such a stinking knave should blow such a
boast. Damosel, he said, ye are to blame so to rebuke me, for I
had liefer do five battles than so to be rebuked, let him come
and then let him do his worst.
Sir, she said, I marvel what thou art and of what kin thou art
come; boldly thou speakest, and boldly thou hast done, that have
I seen; therefore I pray thee save thyself an thou mayest, for
thy horse and thou have had great travail, and I dread we dwell
over long from the siege, for it is but hence seven mile, and all
perilous passages we are passed save all only this passage; and
here I dread me sore lest ye shall catch some hurt, therefore I
would ye were hence, that ye were not bruised nor hurt with this
strong knight. But I let you wit that Sir Persant of Inde is
nothing of might nor strength unto the knight that laid the siege
about my lady. As for that, said Sir Beaumains, be it as it be
may. For sithen I am come so nigh this knight I will prove his
might or I depart from him, and else I shall be shamed an I
now withdraw me from him. And therefore, damosel, have ye no
doubt by the grace of God I shall so deal with this knight that
within two hours after noon I shall deliver him. And then shall
we come to the siege by daylight. O Jesu, marvel have I, said
the damosel, what manner a man ye be, for it may never be
otherwise but that ye be come of a noble blood, for so foul nor
shamefully did never woman rule a knight as I have done you, and
ever courteously ye have suffered me, and that came never but of
a gentle blood.
Damosel, said Beaumains, a knight may little do that may not
suffer a damosel, for whatsomever ye said unto me I took none
heed to your words, for the more ye said the more ye angered me,
and my wrath I wreaked upon them that I had ado withal. And
therefore all the missaying that ye missaid me furthered me in my
battle, and caused me to think to show and prove myself at the
end what I was; for peradventure though I had meat in King
Arthur's kitchen, yet I might have had meat enough in other
places, but all that I did it for to prove and assay my friends,
and that shall be known another day; and whether that I be a
gentleman born or none, I let you wit, fair damosel, I have done
you gentleman's service, and peradventure better service yet will
I do or I depart from you. Alas, she said, fair Beaumains,
forgive me all that I have missaid or done against thee. With
all my heart, said he, I forgive it you, for ye did nothing but
as ye should do, for all your evil words pleased me; and damosel,
said Beaumains, since it liketh you to say thus fair unto me, wit
ye well it gladdeth my heart greatly, and now meseemeth there is
no knight living but I am able enough for him.
WITH this Sir Persant of Inde had espied them as they hoved in
the field, and knightly he sent to them whether he came in war or
in peace. Say to thy lord, said Beaumains, I take no force, but
whether as him list himself. So the messenger went again unto
Sir Persant and told him all his answer. Well then will I have
ado with him to the utterance, and so he purveyed him and rode
against him. And Beaumains saw him and made him ready, and there
they met with all that ever their horses might run, and brast
their spears either in three pieces, and their horses rushed so
together that both their horses fell dead to the earth; and
lightly they avoided their horses and put their shields afore
them, and drew their swords, and gave many great strokes that
sometime they hurtled together that they fell grovelling on the
ground. Thus they fought two hours and more, that their shields
and their hauberks were all forhewen, and in many steads they
were wounded. So at the last Sir Beaumains smote him through the
cost of the body, and then he retrayed him here and there, and
knightly maintained his battle long time. And at the last,
though him loath were, Beaumains smote Sir Persant above upon the
helm, that he fell grovelling to the earth; and then he leapt
upon him overthwart and unlaced his helm to have slain him.
Then Sir Persant yielded him and asked him mercy. With that came
the damosel and prayed to save his life. I will well, for it
were pity this noble knight should die. Gramercy, said Persant,
gentle knight and damosel. For certainly now I wot well it was
ye that slew my brother the Black Knight at the black thorn; he
was a full noble knight, his name was Sir Percard. Also I am
sure that ye are he that won mine other brother the Green Knight,
his name was Sir Pertolepe. Also ye won my brother the Red
Knight, Sir Perimones. And now since ye have won these, this
shall I do for to please you: ye shall have homage and fealty of
me, and an hundred knights to be always at your commandment, to
go and ride where ye will command us. And so they went unto Sir
Persant's pavilion and drank the wine, and ate spices, and
afterward Sir Persant made him to rest upon a bed until supper
time, and after supper to bed again. When Beaumains was abed,
Sir Persant had a lady, a fair daughter of eighteen year of age,
and there he called her unto him, and charged her and commanded
her upon his blessing to go unto the knight's bed, and lie down
by his side, and make him no strange cheer, but good cheer, and
take him in thine arms and kiss him, and look that this be done,
I charge you, as ye will have my love and my good will. So Sir
Persant's daughter did as her father bade her, and so she went
unto Sir Beaumains' bed, and privily she dispoiled her, and laid
her down by him, and then he awoke and saw her, and asked her
what she was. Sir, she said, I am Sir Persant's daughter, that
by the commandment of my father am come hither. Be ye a maid or
a wife? said he. Sir, she said, I am a clean maiden. God
defend, said he, that I should defoil you to do Sir Persant such
a shame; therefore, fair damosel, arise out of this bed or else I
will. Sir, she said, I came not to you by mine own will, but as
I was commanded. Alas, said Sir Beaumains, I were a shameful
knight an I would do your father any disworship; and so he kissed
her, and so she departed and came unto Sir Persant her father,
and told him all how she had sped. Truly, said Sir Persant,
whatsomever he be, he is come of a noble blood. And so we leave
them there till on the morn.
AND so on the morn the damosel and Sir Beaumains heard mass and
brake their fast, and so took their leave. Fair damosel, said
Persant, whitherward are ye way-leading this knight? Sir, she
said, this knight is going to the siege that besiegeth my sister
in the Castle Dangerous. Ah, ah, said Persant, that is the
Knight of the Red Laund, the which is the most perilous knight
that I know now living, and a man that is without mercy, and men
say that he hath seven men's strength. God save you, said he to
Beaumains, from that knight, for he doth great wrong to that
lady, and that is great pity, for she is one of the fairest
ladies of the world, and meseemeth that your damosel is her
sister: is not your name Linet? said he. Yea, sir, said she, and
my lady my sister's name is Dame Lionesse. Now shall I tell you,
said Sir Persant, this Red Knight of the Red Laund hath lain long
at the siege, well-nigh this two years, and many times he might
have had her an he had would, but he prolongeth the time to this
intent, for to have Sir Launcelot du Lake to do battle with him,
or Sir Tristram, or Sir Lamorak de Galis, or Sir Gawaine, and
this is his tarrying so long at the siege.
Now my lord Sir Persant of Inde, said the damosel Linet, I
require you that ye will make this gentleman knight or ever he
fight with the Red Knight. I will with all my heart, said Sir
Persant, an it please him to take the order of knighthood of so
simple a man as I am. Sir, said Beaumains, I thank you for your
good will, for I am better sped, for certainly the noble knight
Sir Launcelot made me knight. Ah, said Sir Persant, of a more
renowned knight might ye not be made knight; for of all knights
he may be called chief of knighthood; and so all the world
saith, that betwixt three knights is departed clearly knighthood,
that is Launcelot du Lake, Sir Tristram de Liones, and Sir
Lamorak de Galis: these bear now the renown. There be many other
knights, as Sir Palamides the Saracen and Sir Safere his brother;
also Sir Bleoberis and Sir Blamore de Ganis his brother; also Sir
Bors de Ganis and Sir Ector de Maris and Sir Percivale de Galis;
these and many more be noble knights, but there be none that pass
the three above said; therefore God speed you well, said Sir
Persant, for an ye may match the Red Knight ye shall be called
the fourth of the world.
Sir, said Beaumains, I would fain be of good fame and of
knighthood. And I let you wit I came of good men, for I dare say
my father was a noble man, and so that ye will keep it in close,
and this damosel, I will tell you of what kin I am. We will not
discover you, said they both, till ye command us, by the faith we
owe unto God. Truly then, said he, my name is Gareth of Orkney,
and King Lot was my father, and my mother is King Arthur's
sister, her name is Dame Morgawse, and Sir Gawaine is my brother,
and Sir Agravaine and Sir Gaheris, and I am the youngest of them
all. And yet wot not King Arthur nor Sir Gawaine what I am.
SO the book saith that the lady that was besieged had word of her
sister's coming by the dwarf, and a knight with her, and how he
had passed all the perilous passages. What manner a man is he?
said the lady. He is a noble knight, truly, madam, said the
dwarf, and but a young man, but he is as likely a man as ever ye
saw any. What is he? said the damosel, and of what kin is he
come, and of whom was he made knight? Madam, said the
dwarf, he is the king's son of Orkney, but his name I will not
tell you as at this time; but wit ye well, of Sir Launcelot was
he made knight, for of none other would he be made knight, and
Sir Kay named him Beaumains. How escaped he, said the lady, from
the brethren of Persant? Madam, he said, as a noble knight
should. First, he slew two brethren at a passage of a water.
Ah! said she, they were good knights, but they were murderers,
the one hight Gherard le Breuse, and the other knight hight Sir
Arnold le Breuse. Then, madam, he recountered with the Black
Knight, and slew him in plain battle, and so he took his horse
and his armour and fought with the Green Knight and won him in
plain battle, and in like wise he served the Red Knight, and
after in the same wise he served the Blue Knight and won him in
plain battle. Then, said the lady, he hath overcome Sir Persant
of Inde, one of the noblest knights of the world, and the dwarf
said, He hath won all the four brethren and slain the Black
Knight, and yet he did more to-fore: he overthrew Sir Kay and
left him nigh dead upon the ground; also he did a great battle
with Sir Launcelot, and there they departed on even hands: and
then Sir Launcelot made him knight.
Dwarf, said the lady, I am glad of these tidings, therefore go
thou in an hermitage of mine hereby, and there shalt thou bear
with thee of my wine in two flagons of silver, they are of two
gallons, and also two cast of bread with fat venison baked, and
dainty fowls; and a cup of gold here I deliver thee, that is rich
and precious; and bear all this to mine hermitage, and put it in
the hermit's hands. And sithen go thou unto my sister and greet
her well, and commend me unto that gentle knight, and pray him to
eat and to drink and make him strong, and say ye him I thank him
of his courtesy and goodness, that he would take upon him such
labour for me that never did him bounty nor courtesy. Also pray
him that he be of good heart and courage, for he shall meet with
a full noble knight, but he is neither of bounty, courtesy, nor
gentleness; for he attendeth unto nothing but to murder, and
that is the cause I cannot praise him nor love him.
So this dwarf departed, and came to Sir Persant, where he found
the damosel Linet and Sir Beaumains, and there he told them all
as ye have heard; and then they took their leave, but Sir Persant
took an ambling hackney and conveyed them on their ways, and then
beleft them to God; and so within a little while they came to
that hermitage, and there they drank the wine, and ate the
venison and the fowls baken. And so when they had repasted them
well, the dwarf returned again with his vessel unto the castle
again; and there met with him the Red Knight of the Red Launds,
and asked him from whence that he came, and where he had been.
Sir, said the dwarf, I have been with my lady's sister of this
castle, and she hath been at King Arthur's court, and brought a
knight with her. Then I account her travail but lost; for though
she had brought with her Sir Launcelot, Sir Tristram, Sir
Lamorak, or Sir Gawaine, I would think myself good enough for
them all.
It may well be, said the dwarf, but this knight hath passed all
the perilous passages, and slain the Black Knight and other two
more, and won the Green Knight, the Red Knight, and the Blue
Knight. Then is he one of these four that I have afore
rehearsed. He is none of those, said the dwarf, but he is a
king's son. What is his name? said the Red Knight of the Red
Launds. That will I not tell you, said the dwarf, but Sir Kay
upon scorn named him Beaumains. I care not, said the knight,
what knight so ever he be, for I shall soon deliver him. And if
I ever match him he shall have a shameful death as many other
have had. That were pity, said the dwarf, and it is marvel that
ye make such shameful war upon noble knights.
NOW leave we the knight and the dwarf, and speak we of Beaumains,
that all night lay in the hermitage; and upon the morn he and the
damosel Linet heard their mass and brake their fast. And then
they took their horses and rode throughout a fair forest; and
then they came to a plain, and saw where were many pavilions and
tents, and a fair castle, and there was much smoke and great
noise; and when they came near the siege Sir Beaumains espied
upon great trees, as he rode, how there hung full goodly armed
knights by the neck, and their shields about their necks with
their swords, and gilt spurs upon their heels, and so there hung
nigh a forty knights shamefully with full rich arms.
Then Sir Beaumains abated his countenance and said, What meaneth
this? Fair sir, said the damosel, abate not your cheer for all
this sight, for ye must courage yourself, or else ye be all
shent, for all these knights came hither to this siege to rescue
my sister Dame Lionesse, and when the Red Knight of the Red
Launds had overcome them, he put them to this shameful death
without mercy and pity. And in the same wise he will serve you
but if you quit you the better.
Now Jesu defend me, said Beaumains, from such a villainous death
and shenship of arms. For rather than I should so be faren
withal, I would rather be slain manly in plain battle. So were
ye better, said the damosel; for trust not, in him is no
courtesy, but all goeth to the death or shameful murder, and that
is pity, for he is a full likely man, well made of body, and a
full noble knight of prowess, and a lord of great lands and
possessions. Truly, said Beaumains, he may well be a good
knight, but he useth shameful customs, and it is marvel that he
endureth so long that none of the noble knights of my lord
Arthur's have not dealt with him.
And then they rode to the dykes, and saw them double dyked with
full warlike walls; and there were lodged many great lords nigh
the walls; and there was great noise of minstrelsy; and the sea
beat upon the one side of the walls, where were many ships and
mariners' noise with ``hale and how.'' And also there was fast
by a sycamore tree, and there hung an horn, the greatest that
ever they saw, of an elephant's bone; and this Knight of the Red
Launds had hanged it up there, that if there came any errant-
knight, he must blow that horn, and then will he make him ready
and come to him to do battle. But, sir, I pray you, said the
damosel Linet, blow ye not the horn till it be high noon, for now
it is about prime, and now increaseth his might, that as men say
he hath seven men's strength. Ah, fie for shame, fair damosel,
say ye never so more to me; for, an he were as good a knight as
ever was, I shall never fail him in his most might, for either I
will win worship worshipfully, or die knightly in the field. And
therewith he spurred his horse straight to the sycamore tree, and
blew so the horn eagerly that all the siege and the castle rang
thereof. And then there leapt out knights out of their tents a