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  • Project Gutenberg’s Le Morte D’Arthur, Volume II (of II), by Thomas Malory
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  • Title: Le Morte D’Arthur, Volume II (of II)
  • King Arthur and of his Noble Knights of the Round Table
  • Author: Thomas Malory
  • Editor: William Caxton
  • Release Date: November 6, 2009 [EBook #1252]
  • Last Updated: October 13, 2019
  • Language: English
  • Character set encoding: UTF-8
  • *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LE MORTE D’ARTHUR, VOLUME II ***
  • Produced by Mike Lough, and David Widger
  • Le Morte D’Arthur
  • King Arthur and of his Noble Knights of the Round Table
  • by Thomas Malory
  • IN TWO VOLS.—VOL. II
  • Contents
  • BOOK X.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Tristram jousted, and smote down King Arthur,
  • because he told him not the cause why he bare that shield.
  • CHAPTER II. How Sir Tristram saved Sir Palomides’ life, and how they
  • promised to fight together within a fortnight.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Tristram sought a strong knight that had smitten
  • him down, and many other knights of the Round Table.
  • CHAPTER IV. How Sir Tristram smote down Sir Sagramore le Desirous and
  • Sir Dodinas le Savage.
  • CHAPTER V. How Sir Tristram met at the peron with Sir Launcelot, and
  • how they fought together unknown.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Sir Launcelot brought Sir Tristram to the court, and
  • of the great joy that the king and other made for the coming of Sir
  • Tristram.
  • CHAPTER VII. How for the despite of Sir Tristram King Mark came with
  • two knights into England, and how he slew one of the knights.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How King Mark came to a fountain where he found Sir
  • Lamorak complaining for the love of King Lot’s wife.
  • CHAPTER IX. How King Mark, Sir Lamorak, and Sir Dinadan came to a
  • castle, and how King Mark was known there.
  • CHAPTER X. How Sir Berluse met with King Mark, and how Sir Dinadan
  • took his part.
  • CHAPTER XI. How King Mark mocked Sir Dinadan, and how they met with
  • six knights of the Round Table.
  • CHAPTER XII. How the six knights sent Sir Dagonet to joust with King
  • Mark, and how King Mark refused him.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How Sir Palomides by adventure met King Mark flying, and
  • how he overthrew Dagonet and other knights.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How King Mark and Sir Dinadan heard Sir Palomides making
  • great sorrow and mourning for La Beale Isoud.
  • CHAPTER XV. How King Mark had slain Sir Amant wrongfully to-fore King
  • Arthur, and Sir Launcelot fetched King Mark to King Arthur.
  • CHAPTER XVI. How Sir Dinadan told Sir Palomides of the battle between
  • Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristam.
  • CHAPTER XVII. How Sir Lamorak jousted with divers knights of the
  • castle wherein was Morgan le Fay.
  • CHAPTER XVIII. How Sir Palomides would have jousted for Sir Lamorak
  • with the knights of the castle.
  • CHAPTER XIX. How Sir Lamorak jousted with Sir Palomides, and hurt him
  • grievously.
  • CHAPTER XX. How it was told Sir Launcelot that Dagonet chased King
  • Mark, and how a knight overthrew him and six knights.
  • CHAPTER XXI. How King Arthur let do cry a jousts, and how Sir Lamorak
  • came in, and overthrew Sir Gawaine and many other.
  • CHAPTER XXII. How King Arthur made King Mark to be accorded with Sir
  • Tristram, and how they departed toward Cornwall.
  • CHAPTER XXIII. How Sir Percivale was made knight of King Arthur, and
  • how a dumb maid spake, and brought him to the Round Table.
  • CHAPTER XXIV. How Sir Lamorak visited King Lot’s wife, and how Sir
  • Gaheris slew her which was his own mother.
  • CHAPTER XXV. How Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred met with a knight
  • fleeing, and how they both were overthrown, and of Sir Dinadan.
  • CHAPTER XXVI. How King Arthur, the Queen, and Launcelot received
  • letters out of Cornwall, and of the answer again.
  • CHAPTER XXVII. How Sir Launcelot was wroth with the letter that he
  • received from King Mark, and of Dinadan which made a lay of King Mark.
  • CHAPTER XXVIII. How Sir Tristram was hurt, and of a war made to King
  • Mark; and of Sir Tristram how he promised to rescue him.
  • CHAPTER XXIX. How Sir Tristram overcame the battle, and how Elias
  • desired a man to fight body for body.
  • CHAPTER XXI. How Sir Elias and Sir Tristram fought together for the
  • truage, and how Sir Tristram slew Elias in the field.
  • CHAPTER XXXI. How at a great feast that King Mark made an harper came
  • and sang the lay that Dinadan had made.
  • CHAPTER XXXII. How King Mark slew by treason his brother Boudwin, for
  • good service that he had done to him.
  • CHAPTER XXXIII. How Anglides, Boudwin’s wife, escaped with her young
  • son, Alisander le Orphelin, and came to the Castle of Arundel.
  • CHAPTER XXXIV. How Anglides gave the bloody doublet to Alisander, her
  • son, the same day that he was made knight, and the charge withal.
  • CHAPTER XXXV. How it was told to King Mark of Sir Alisander, and how
  • he would have slain Sir Sadok for saving his life.
  • CHAPTER XXXVI. How Sir Alisander won the prize at a tournament, and of
  • Morgan le Fay: and how he fought with Sir Malgrin, and slew him.
  • CHAPTER XXXVII. How Queen Morgan le Fay had Alisander in her castle,
  • and how she healed his wounds.
  • CHAPTER XXXVIII. How Alisander was delivered from Queen Morgan le Fay
  • by the means of a damosel.
  • CHAPTER XXXIX. How Alisander met with Alice la Beale Pilgrim, and how
  • he jousted with two knights; and after of him and of Sir Mordred.
  • CHAPTER XL. How Sir Galahalt did do cry a jousts in Surluse, and Queen
  • Guenever’s knights should joust against all that would come.
  • CHAPTER XLI. How Sir Launcelot fought in the tournament, and how Sir
  • Palomides did arms there for a damosel.
  • CHAPTER XLII. How Sir Galahalt and Palomides fought together, and of
  • Sir Dinadan and Sir Galahalt.
  • CHAPTER XLIII. How Sir Archade appealed Sir Palomides of treason, and
  • how Sir Palomides slew him.
  • CHAPTER XLIV. Of the third day, and how Sir Palomides jousted with Sir
  • Lamorak, and other things.
  • CHAPTER XLV. Of the fourth day, and of many great feats of arms.
  • CHAPTER XLVI. Of the Fifth day, and how Sir Lamorak behaved him.
  • CHAPTER XLVII. How Sir Palomides fought with Corsabrin for a lady, and
  • how Palomides slew Corsabrin.
  • CHAPTER XLVIII. Of the sixth day, and what then was done.
  • CHAPTER XLIX. Of the seventh battle, and how Sir Launcelot, being
  • disguised like a maid, smote down Sir Dinadan.
  • CHAPTER L. How by treason Sir Tristram was brought to a tournament for
  • to have been slain, and how he was put in prison.
  • CHAPTER LI. How King Mark let do counterfeit letters from the Pope,
  • and how Sir Percivale delivered Sir Tristram out of prison.
  • CHAPTER LII. How Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud came unto England,
  • and how Sir Launcelot brought them to Joyous Gard.
  • CHAPTER LIII. How by the counsel of La Beale Isoud Sir Tristram rode
  • armed, and how he met with Sir Palomides.
  • CHAPTER LIV. Of Sir Palomides, and how he met with Sir Bleoberis and
  • with Sir Ector, and of Sir Pervivale.
  • CHAPTER LV. How Sir Tristram met with Sir Dinadan, and of their
  • devices, and what he said to Sir Gawaine’s brethren.
  • CHAPTER LVI. How Sir Tristram smote down Sir Agravaine and Sir
  • Gaheris, and how Sir Dinadan was sent for by La Beale Isoud.
  • CHAPTER LVII. How Sir Dinadan met with Sir Tristram, and with jousting
  • with Sir Palomides, Sir Dinadan knew him.
  • CHAPTER LVIII. How they approached the Castle Lonazep, and of other
  • devices of the death of Sir Lamorak.
  • CHAPTER LIX. How they came to Humber bank, and how they found a ship
  • there, wherein lay the body of King Hermance.
  • CHAPTER LX. How Sir Tristram with his fellowship came and were with an
  • host which after fought with Sir Tristram; and other matters.
  • CHAPTER LXI. How Palomides went for to fight with two brethren for the
  • death of King Hermance.
  • CHAPTER LXII. The copy of the letter written for to revenge the king’s
  • death, and how Sir Palomides fought for to have the battle.
  • CHAPTER LXIII. Of the preparation of Sir Palomides and the two
  • brethren that should fight with him.
  • CHAPTER LXIV. Of the battle between Sir Palomides and the two
  • brethren, and how the two brethren were slain.
  • CHAPTER LXV. How Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides met Breuse Saunce
  • Pité, and how Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud went unto Lonazep.
  • CHAPTER LXVI. How Sir Palomides jousted with Sir Galihodin, and after
  • with Sir Gawaine, and smote them down.
  • CHAPTER LXVII. How Sir Tristram and his fellowship came into the
  • tournament of Lonazep; and of divers jousts and matters.
  • CHAPTER LXVIII. How Sir Tristram and his fellowship jousted, and of
  • the noble feats that they did in that tourneying.
  • CHAPTER LXIX. How Sir Tristram was unhorsed and smitten down by Sir
  • Launcelot, and after that Sir Tristram smote down King Arthur.
  • CHAPTER LXX. How Sir Tristram changed his harness and it was all red,
  • and how he demeaned him, and how Sir Palomides slew Launcelot’s horse.
  • CHAPTER LXXI. How Sir Launcelot said to Sir Palomides, and how the
  • prize of that day was given unto Sir Palomides.
  • CHAPTER LXXII. How Sir Dinadan provoked Sir Tristram to do well.
  • CHAPTER LXXIII. How King Arthur and Sir Lancelot came to see La Beale
  • Isoud, and how Palomides smote down King Arthur.
  • CHAPTER LXXIV. How the second day Palomides forsook Sir Tristram, and
  • went to the contrary part against him.
  • CHAPTER LXXV. How Sir Tristram departed of the field, and awaked Sir
  • Dinadan, and changed his array into black.
  • CHAPTER LXXVI. How Sir Palomides changed his shield and his armour for
  • to hurt Sir Tristram, and how Sir Launcelot did to Sir Tristram.
  • CHAPTER LXXVII. How Sir Tristram departed with La Beale Isoud, and how
  • Palomides followed and excused him.
  • CHAPTER LXXVIII. How King Arthur and Sir Launcelot came unto their
  • pavilions as they sat at supper, and of Sir Palomides.
  • CHAPTER LXXIX. How Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides did the next day,
  • and how King Arthur was unhorsed.
  • CHAPTER LXXX. How Sir Tristram turned to King Arthur’s side, and how
  • Palomides would not.
  • CHAPTER LXXXI. How Sir Bleoberis and Sir Ector reported to Queen
  • Guenever of the beauty of La Beale Isoud.
  • CHAPTER LXXXII. How Epinogris complained by a well, and how Sir
  • Palomides came and found him, and of their both sorrowing.
  • CHAPTER LXXXIII. How Sir Palomides brought Sir Epinogris his lady; and
  • how Sir Palomides and Sir Safere were assailed.
  • CHAPTER LXXXIV. How Sir Palomides and Sir Safere conducted Sir
  • Epinogris to his castle, and of other adventures.
  • CHAPTER LXXXV. How Sir Tristram made him ready to rescue Sir
  • Palomides, but Sir Launcelot rescued him or he came.
  • CHAPTER LXXXVI. How Sir Tristram and Launcelot, with Palomides, came
  • to joyous Gard; and of Palomides and Sir Tristram.
  • CHAPTER LXXXVII. How there was a day set between Sir Tristram and Sir
  • Palomides for to fight, and how Sir Tristram was hurt.
  • CHAPTER LXXXVIII. How Sir Palomides kept his day to have foughten, but
  • Sir Tristram might not come; and other things.
  • BOOK XI.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Launcelot rode on his adventure, and how he holp a
  • dolorous lady from her pain, and how that he fought with a dragon.
  • CHAPTER II. How Sir Launcelot came to Pelles, and of the Sangreal, and
  • of Elaine, King Pelles’ daughter.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Launcelot was displeased when he knew that he had
  • lain by Dame Elaine, and how she was delivered of Galahad.
  • CHAPTER IV. How Sir Bors came to Dame Elaine and saw Galahad, and how
  • he was fed with the Sangreal.
  • CHAPTER V. How Sir Bors made Sir Pedivere to yield him, and of
  • marvellous adventures that he had, and how he achieved them.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Sir Bors departed; and how Sir Launcelot was rebuked
  • of Queen Guenever, and of his excuse.
  • CHAPTER VII. How Dame Elaine, Galahad’s mother, came in great estate
  • unto Camelot, and how Sir Launcelot behaved him there.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How Dame Brisen by enchantment brought Sir Launcelot to
  • Dame Elaine’s bed, and how Queen Guenever rebuked him.
  • CHAPTER IX. How Dame Elaine was commanded by Queen Guenever to avoid
  • the court, and how Sir Launcelot became mad.
  • CHAPTER X. What sorrow Queen Guenever made for Sir Launcelot, and how
  • he was sought by knights of his kin.
  • CHAPTER XI. How a servant of Sir Aglovale’s was slain, and what
  • vengeance Sir Aglovale and Sir Percivale did therefore.
  • CHAPTER XII. How Sir Pervivale departed secretly from his brother, and
  • how he loosed a knight bound with a chain, and of other doings.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How Sir Percivale met with Sir Ector, and how they
  • fought long, and each had almost slain other.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How by miracle they were both made whole by the coming of
  • the holy vessel of Sangreal.
  • BOOK XII.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Launcelot in his madness took a sword and fought
  • with a knight, and leapt in a bed.
  • CHAPTER II. How Sir Lancelot was carried in an horse litter, and how
  • Sir Launcelot rescued Sir Bliant, his host.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Launcelot fought against a boar and slew him, and
  • how he was hurt, and brought unto an hermitage.
  • CHAPTER IV. How Sir Launcelot was known by Dame Elaine, and was borne
  • into a chamber and after healed by the Sangreal.
  • CHAPTER V. How Sir Launcelot, after that he was whole and had his
  • mind, he was ashamed, and how that Elaine desired a castle for him.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Sir Launcelot came into the joyous Isle, and there he
  • named himself Le Chevaler Mal Fet.
  • CHAPTER VII. Of a great tourneying in the Joyous Isle, and how Sir
  • Pervivale and Sir Ector came thither, and Sir Percivale fought with
  • him.
  • CHAPTER VIlI. How each of them knew other, and of their great
  • courtesy, and how his brother Sir Ector came unto him, and of their
  • joy.
  • CHAPTER IX. How Sir Bors and Sir Lionel came to King Brandegore, and
  • how Sir Bors took his son Helin le Blank, and of Sir Launcelot.
  • CHAPTER X. How Sir Launcelot with Sir Percivale and Sir Ector came to
  • the court, and of the great joy of him.
  • CHAPTER XI. How La Beale Isoud counselled Sir Tristram to go unto the
  • court, to the great feast of Pentecost.
  • CHAPTER XII. How Sir Tristram departed unarmed and met with Sir
  • Palomides, and how they smote each other, and how Sir Palomides
  • forbare him.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How that Sir Tristram gat him harness of a knight which
  • was hurt, and how he overthrew Sir Palomides.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides fought long together,
  • and after accorded, and how Sir Tristram made him to be christened.
  • BOOK XIII.
  • CHAPTER I. How at the vigil of the Feast of Pentecost entered into the
  • hall before King Arthur a damosel, and desired Sir Launcelot for to
  • come and dub a knight, and how he went with her.
  • CHAPTER II. How the letters were found written in the Siege Perilous
  • and of the marvellous adventure of the sword in a stone.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Gawaine assayed to draw out the sword, and how an
  • old man brought in Galahad.
  • CHAPTER IV. How the old man brought Galahad to the Siege Perilous and
  • set him therein, and how all the knights marvelled.
  • CHAPTER V. How King Arthur shewed the stone hoving on the water to
  • Galahad, and how he drew out the sword.
  • CHAPTER VI. How King Arthur had all the knights together for to joust
  • in the meadow beside Camelot or they departed.
  • CHAPTER VII. How the queen desired to see Galahad; and how after, all
  • the knights were replenished with the Holy Sangreal, and how they
  • avowed the enquest of the same.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How great sorrow was made of the king and the queen and
  • ladies for the departing of the knights, and how they departed.
  • CHAPTER IX. How Galahad gat him a shield, and how they sped that
  • presumed to take down the said shield.
  • CHAPTER X. How Galahad departed with the shield, and how King Evelake
  • had received the shield of Joseph of Aramathie.
  • CHAPTER XI. How Joseph made a cross on the white shield with his
  • blood, and how Galahad was by a monk brought to a tomb.
  • CHAPTER XII. Of the marvel that Sir Galahad saw and heard in the tomb,
  • and how he made Melias knight.
  • CHAPTER XIII. Of the adventure that Melias had, and how Galahad
  • revenged him, and how Melias was carried into an abbey.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How Sir Galahad departed, and how he was commanded to go
  • to the Castle of Maidens to destroy the wicked custom.
  • CHAPTER XV. How Sir Galahad fought with the knights of the castle, and
  • destroyed the wicked custom.
  • CHAPTER XVI. How Sir Gawaine came to the abbey for to follow Galahad,
  • and how he was shriven to a hermit.
  • CHAPTER XVII. How Sir Galahad met with Sir Launcelot and Sir
  • Percivale, and smote them down, and departed from them.
  • CHAPTER XVIII. How Sir Launcelot, half sleeping and half waking, saw a
  • sick man borne in a litter, and how he was healed with the Sangreal.
  • CHAPTER XIX. How a voice spake to Sir Launcelot, and how he found his
  • horse and his helm borne away, and after went afoot.
  • CHAPTER XX. How Sir Launcelot was shriven, and what sorrow he made and
  • of the good ensamples which were shewed him.
  • BOOK XIV.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Percivale came to a recluse and asked counsel, and
  • how she told him that she was his aunt.
  • CHAPTER II. How Merlin likened the Round Table to the world, and how
  • the knights that should achieve the Sangreal should be known.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Percivale came into a monastery, where he found
  • King Evelake, which was an old man.
  • CHAPTER IV. How Sir Percivale saw many men of arms bearing a dead
  • knight, and how he fought against them.
  • CHAPTER V. How a yeoman desired him to get again an horse, and how Sir
  • Percivale’s hackney was slain, and how he gat an horse.
  • CHAPTER VI. Of the great danger that Sir Percivale was in by his
  • horse, and how he saw a serpent and a lion fight.
  • CHAPTER VII. Of the vision that Sir Percivale saw, and how his vision
  • was expounded, and of his lion.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How Sir Percivale saw a ship coming to him-ward, and how
  • the lady of the ship told him of her disheritance.
  • CHAPTER IX. How Sir Percivale promised her help, and how he required
  • her of love, and how he was saved from the fiend.
  • CHAPTER X. How Sir Percivale for penance rove himself through the
  • thigh; and how she was known for the devil.
  • BOOK XV.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Launcelot came to a chapel, where he found dead, in
  • a white shirt, a man of religion, of an hundred winter old.
  • CHAPTER II. Of a dead man, how men would have hewn him, and it would
  • not be, and how Sir Launcelot took the hair of the dead man.
  • CHAPTER III. Of an advision that Sir Launcelot had, and how he told it
  • to an hermit, and desired counsel of him.
  • CHAPTER IV. How the hermit expounded to Sir Launcelot his advision,
  • and told him that Sir Galahad was his son.
  • CHAPTER V. How Sir Launcelot jousted with many knights, and how he was
  • taken.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Sir Launcelot told his advision to a woman, and how
  • she expounded it to him.
  • BOOK XVI.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Gawaine was nigh weary of the quest of the
  • Sangreal, and of his marvellous dream.
  • CHAPTER II. Of the advision of Sir Ector, and how he jousted with Sir
  • Uwaine les Avoutres, his sworn brother.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Gawaine and Sir Ector came to an hermitage to be
  • confessed, and how they told to the hermit their advisions.
  • CHAPTER IV. How the hermit expounded their advision.
  • CHAPTER V. Of the good counsel that the hermit gave to them.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Sir Bors met with an hermit, and how he was confessed
  • to him, and of his penance enjoined to him.
  • CHAPTER VII. How Sir Bors was lodged with a lady, and how he took upon
  • him for to fight against a champion for her land.
  • CHAPTER VIII. Of an advision which Sir Bors had that night, and how he
  • fought and overcame his adversary.
  • CHAPTER IX. How the lady was returned to her lands by the battle of
  • Sir Bors, and of his departing, and how he met Sir Lionel taken and
  • beaten with thorns, and also of a maid which should have been
  • devoured.
  • CHAPTER X. How Sir Bors left to rescue his brother, and rescued the
  • damosel; and how it was told him that Lionel was dead.
  • CHAPTER XI. How Sir Bors told his dream to a priest, which he had
  • dreamed, and of the counsel that the priest gave to him.
  • CHAPTER XII. How the devil in a woman’s likeness would have had Sir
  • Bors to have lain by her, and how by God’s grace he escaped.
  • CHAPTER XIII. Of the holy communication of an Abbot to Sir Bors, and
  • how the Abbot counselled him.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How Sir Bors met with his brother Sir Lionel, and how Sir
  • Lionel would have slain Sir Bors.
  • CHAPTER XV. How Sir Colgrevance fought against Sir Lionel for to save
  • Sir Bors, and how the hermit was slain.
  • CHAPTER XVI. How Sir Lionel slew Sir Colgrevance, and how after he
  • would have slain Sir Bors.
  • CHAPTER XVII. How there came a voice which charged Sir Bors to touch
  • him not, and of a cloud that came between them.
  • BOOK XVII.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Galahad fought at a tournament, and how he was
  • known of Sir Gawaine and Sir Ector de Maris.
  • CHAPTER II. How Sir Galahad rode with a damosel, and came to the ship
  • whereas Sir Bors and Sir Percivale were in.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Galahad entered into the ship, and of a fair bed
  • therein, with other marvellous things, and of a sword.
  • CHAPTER IV. Of the marvels of the sword and of the scabbard.
  • CHAPTER V. How King Pelles was smitten through both thighs because he
  • drew the sword, and other marvellous histories.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Solomon took David’s sword by the counsel of his wife,
  • and of other matters marvellous.
  • CHAPTER VII. A wonderful tale of King Solomon and his wife.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How Galahad and his fellows came to a castle, and how
  • they were fought withal, and how they slew their adversaries, and
  • other matters.
  • CHAPTER IX. How the three knights, with Percivale’s sister, came unto
  • the same forest, and of an hart and four lions, and other things.
  • CHAPTER X. How they were desired of a strange custom, the which they
  • would not obey; wherefore they fought and slew many knights.
  • CHAPTER XI. How Sir Percivale’s sister bled a dish full of blood for
  • to heal a lady, wherefore she died; and how that the body was put in a
  • ship.
  • CHAPTER XII. How Galahad and Percivale found in a castle many tombs of
  • maidens that had bled to death.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How Sir Launcelot entered into the ship where Sir
  • Percivale’s sister lay dead, and how he met with Sir Galahad, his son.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How a knight brought unto Sir Galahad a horse, and bade
  • him come from his father, Sir Launcelot.
  • CHAPTER XV. How Sir Launcelot was to-fore the door of the chamber
  • wherein the Holy Sangreal was.
  • CHAPTER XVI. How Sir launcelot had lain four-and-twenty days and as
  • many nights as a dead man, and other divers matters.
  • CHAPTER XVII. How Sir Launcelot returned towards Logris, and of other
  • adventures which he saw in the way.
  • CHAPTER XVIII. How Galahad came to King Mordrains, and of other
  • matters and adventures.
  • CHAPTER XIX. How Sir Percivale and Sir Bors met with Sir Galahad, and
  • how they came to the castle of Carbonek, and other matters.
  • CHAPTER XX How Galahad and his fellows were fed of the Holy Sangreal,
  • and how Our Lord appeared to them, and other things.
  • CHAPTER XXI. How Galahad anointed with the blood of the spear the
  • Maimed King, and of other adventures.
  • CHAPTER XXII. How they were fed with the Sangreal while they were in
  • prison, and how Galahad was made king.
  • CHAPTER XXIII. Of the sorrow that Percivale and Bors made when Galahad
  • was dead: and of Percivale how he died, and other matters.
  • BOOK XVIII.
  • CHAPTER I. Of the joy King Arthur and the queen had of the achievement
  • of the Sangreal; and how Launcelot fell to his old love again.
  • CHAPTER II. How the queen commanded Sir Launcelot to avoid the court,
  • and of the sorrow that Launcelot made.
  • CHAPTER III. How at a dinner that the queen made there was a knight
  • enpoisoned, which Sir Mador laid on the queen.
  • CHAPTER IV. How Sir Mador appeached the queen of treason, and there
  • was no knight would fight for her at the first time.
  • CHAPTER V. How the queen required Sir Bors to fight for her, and how
  • he granted upon condition; and how he warned Sir Launcelot thereof.
  • CHAPTER VI. How at the day Sir Bors made him ready for to fight for
  • the queen; and when he would fight how another discharged him.
  • CHAPTER VII How Sir Launcelot fought against Sir Mador for the queen,
  • and how he overcame Sir Mador, and discharged the queen.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How the truth was known by the Maiden of the Lake, and
  • of divers other matters.
  • CHAPTER IX. How Sir Launcelot rode to Astolat, and received a sleeve
  • to wear upon his helm at the request of a maid.
  • CHAPTER X. How the tourney began at Winchester, and what knights were
  • at the jousts; and other things.
  • CHAPTER XI. How Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine entered in the field
  • against them of King Arthur’s court, and how Launcelot was hurt.
  • CHAPTER XII. How Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine departed out of the
  • field, and in what jeopardy Launcelot was.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How Launcelot was brought to an hermit for to be healed
  • of his wound, and of other matters.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How Sir Gawaine was lodged with the lord of Astolat, and
  • there had knowledge that it was Sir Launcelot that bare the red
  • sleeve.
  • CHAPTER XV. Of the sorrow that Sir Bors had for the hurt of Launcelot;
  • and of the anger that the queen had because Launcelot bare the sleeve.
  • CHAPTER XVI. How Sir Bors sought Launcelot and found him in the
  • hermitage, and of the lamentation between them.
  • CHAPTER XVII. How Sir Launcelot armed him to assay if he might bear
  • arms, and how his wounds brast out again.
  • CHAPTER XVIII. How Sir Bors returned and told tidings of Sir
  • Launcelot; and of the tourney, and to whom the prize was given.
  • CHAPTER XIX. Of the great lamentation of the Fair Maid of Astolat when
  • Launcelot should depart, and how she died for his love.
  • CHAPTER XX. How the corpse of the Maid of Astolat arrived to-fore King
  • Arthur, and of the burying, and how Sir Launcelot offered the
  • mass-penny.
  • CHAPTER XXI. Of great jousts done all a Christmas, and of a great
  • jousts and tourney ordained by King Arthur, and of Sir Launcelot.
  • CHAPTER XXII. How Launcelot after that he was hurt of a gentlewoman
  • came to an hermit, and of other matters.
  • CHAPTER XXIII. How Sir Launcelot behaved him at the jousts, and other
  • men also.
  • CHAPTER XXIV. How King Arthur marvelled much of the jousting in the
  • field, and how he rode and found Sir Launcelot.
  • CHAPTER XXV. How true love is likened to summer.
  • BOOK XIX.
  • CHAPTER I. How Queen Guenever rode a-Maying with certain knights of
  • the Round Table and clad all in green.
  • CHAPTER II. How Sir Meliagrance took the queen and her knights, which
  • were sore hurt in fighting.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Launcelot had word how the queen was taken, and
  • how Sir Meliagrance laid a bushment for Launcelot.
  • CHAPTER IV. How Sir Launcelot’s horse was slain, and how Sir Launcelot
  • rode in a cart for to rescue the queen.
  • CHAPTER V. How Sir Meliagrance required forgiveness of the queen, and
  • how she appeased Sir Launcelot; and other matters.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Sir Launcelot came in the night to the queen and lay
  • with her, and how Sir Meliagrance appeached the queen of treason.
  • CHAPTER VII. How Sir Launcelot answered for the queen, and waged
  • battle against Sir Meliagrance; and how Sir Launcelot was taken in a
  • trap.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How Sir Launcelot was delivered out of prison by a lady,
  • and took a white courser and came for to keep his day.
  • CHAPTER IX. How Sir Launcelot came the same time that Sir Meliagrance
  • abode him in the field and dressed him to battle.
  • CHAPTER X. How Sir Urre came into Arthur’s court for to be healed of
  • his wounds, and how King Arthur would begin to handle him.
  • CHAPTER XI. How King Arthur handled Sir Urre, and after him many other
  • knights of the Round Table.
  • CHAPTER XII. How Sir Launcelot was commanded by Arthur to handle his
  • wounds, and anon he was all whole, and how they thanked God.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How there was a party made of an hundred knights against
  • an hundred knights, and of other matters
  • BOOK XX.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred were busy upon Sir
  • Gawaine for to disclose the love between Sir Launcelot and Queen
  • Guenever.
  • CHAPTER II. How Sir Agravaine disclosed their love to King Arthur, and
  • how King Arthur gave them licence to take him.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Launcelot was espied in the queen’s chamber, and
  • how Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred came with twelve knights to slay
  • him.
  • CHAPTER IV. How Sir Launcelot slew Sir Colgrevance, and armed him in
  • his harness, and after slew Sir Agravaine, and twelve of his fellows.
  • CHAPTER V. How Sir Launcelot came to Sir Bors, and told him how he had
  • sped, and in what adventure he had been, and how he had escaped.
  • CHAPTER VI. Of the counsel and advice that was taken by Sir Launcelot
  • and his friends for to save the queen.
  • CHAPTER VII. How Sir Mordred rode hastily to the king, to tell him of
  • the affray and death of Sir Agravaine and the other knights.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How Sir Launcelot and his kinsmen rescued the queen from
  • the fire, and how he slew many knights.
  • CHAPTER IX. Of the sorrow and lamentation of King Arthur for the death
  • of his nephews and other good knights, and also for the queen, his
  • wife.
  • CHAPTER X. How King Arthur at the request of Sir Gawaine concluded to
  • make war against Sir Launcelot, and laid siege to his castle called
  • Joyous Gard.
  • CHAPTER XI. Of the communication between King Arthur and Sir
  • Launcelot, and how King Arthur reproved him.
  • CHAPTER XII. How the cousins and kinsmen of Sir Launcelot excited him
  • to go out to battle, and how they made them ready.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How Sir Gawaine jousted and smote down Sir Lionel, and
  • how Sir Launcelot horsed King Arthur.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How the Pope sent down his bulls to make peace, and how
  • Sir Launcelot brought the queen to King Arthur.
  • CHAPTER XV. Of the deliverance of the queen to the king by Sir
  • Launcelot, and what language Sir Gawaine had to Sir Launcelot.
  • CHAPTER XVI. Of the communication between Sir Gawaine and Sir
  • Launcelot, with much other language.
  • CHAPTER XVII. How Sir Launcelot departed from the king and from Joyous
  • Gard over seaward, and what knights went with him.
  • CHAPTER XVIII. How Sir Launcelot passed over the sea, and how he made
  • great lords of the knights that went with him.
  • CHAPTER XIX. How King Arthur and Sir Gawaine made a great host ready
  • to go over sea to make war on Sir Launcelot.
  • CHAPTER XX. What message Sir Gawaine sent to Sir Launcelot; and how
  • King Arthur laid siege to Benwick, and other matters.
  • CHAPTER XXI. How Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine did battle together,
  • and how Sir Gawaine was overthrown and hurt.
  • CHAPTER XXII. Of the sorrow that King Arthur made for the war, and of
  • another battle where also Sir Gawaine had the worse
  • BOOK XXI.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Mordred presumed and took on him to be King of
  • England, and would have married the queen, his father’s wife.
  • CHAPTER II. How after that King Arthur had tidings, he returned and
  • came to Dover, where Sir Mordred met him to let his landing; and of
  • the death of Sir Gawaine.
  • CHAPTER III. How after, Sir Gawaine’s ghost appeared to King Arthur,
  • and warned him that he should not fight that day.
  • CHAPTER IV. How by misadventure of an adder the battle began, where
  • Mordred was slain, and Arthur hurt to the death.
  • CHAPTER V. How King Arthur commanded to cast his sword Excalibur into
  • the water, and how he was delivered to ladies in a barge.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Sir Bedivere found him on the morrow dead in an
  • hermitage, and how he abode there with the hermit.
  • CHAPTER VII. Of the opinion of some men of the death of King Arthur;
  • and how Queen Guenever made her a nun in Almesbury.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How when Sir Lancelot heard of the death of King Arthur,
  • and of Sir Gawaine, and other matters, he came into England.
  • CHAPTER IX. How Sir Launcelot departed to seek the Queen Guenever, and
  • how he found her at Almesbury.
  • CHAPTER X. How Sir Launcelot came to the hermitage where the
  • Archbishop of Canterbury was, and how he took the habit on him.
  • CHAPTER XI. How Sir Launcelot went with his seven fellows to
  • Almesbury, and found there Queen Guenever dead, whom they brought to
  • Glastonbury.
  • CHAPTER XII. How Sir Launcelot began to sicken, and after died, whose
  • body was borne to Joyous Gard for to be buried.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How Sir Ector found Sir Launcelot his brother dead, and
  • how Constantine reigned next after Arthur; and of the end of this
  • book. GLOSSARY
  • BOOK X.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Tristram jousted, and smote down King Arthur,
  • because he told him not the cause why he bare that shield.
  • And if so be ye can descrive what ye bear, ye are worthy to bear the
  • arms. As for that, said Sir Tristram, I will answer you; this shield
  • was given me, not desired, of Queen Morgan le Fay; and as for me, I can
  • not descrive these arms, for it is no point of my charge, and yet I
  • trust to God to bear them with worship. Truly, said King Arthur, ye
  • ought not to bear none arms but if ye wist what ye bear: but I pray you
  • tell me your name. To what intent? said Sir Tristram. For I would wit,
  • said Arthur. Sir, ye shall not wit as at this time. Then shall ye and I
  • do battle together, said King Arthur. Why, said Sir Tristram, will ye
  • do battle with me but if I tell you my name? and that little needeth
  • you an ye were a man of worship, for ye have seen me this day have had
  • great travail, and therefore ye are a villainous knight to ask battle
  • of me, considering my great travail; howbeit I will not fail you, and
  • have ye no doubt that I fear not you; though you think you have me at a
  • great advantage yet shall I right well endure you. And there withal
  • King Arthur dressed his shield and his spear, and Sir Tristram against
  • him, and they came so eagerly together. And there King Arthur brake his
  • spear all to pieces upon Sir Tristram’s shield. But Sir Tristram hit
  • Arthur again, that horse and man fell to the earth. And there was King
  • Arthur wounded on the left side, a great wound and a perilous.
  • Then when Sir Uwaine saw his lord Arthur lie on the ground sore
  • wounded, he was passing heavy. And then he dressed his shield and his
  • spear, and cried aloud unto Sir Tristram and said: Knight, defend thee.
  • So they came together as thunder, and Sir Uwaine brised his spear all
  • to pieces upon Sir Tristram’s shield, and Sir Tristram smote him harder
  • and sorer, with such a might that he bare him clean out of his saddle
  • to the earth. With that Sir Tristram turned about and said: Fair
  • knights, I had no need to joust with you, for I have had enough to do
  • this day. Then arose Arthur and went to Sir Uwaine, and said to Sir
  • Tristram: We have as we have deserved, for through our orgulyté we
  • demanded battle of you, and yet we knew not your name. Nevertheless, by
  • Saint Cross, said Sir Uwaine, he is a strong knight at mine advice as
  • any is now living.
  • Then Sir Tristram departed, and in every place he asked and demanded
  • after Sir Launcelot, but in no place he could not hear of him whether
  • he were dead or alive; wherefore Sir Tristram made great dole and
  • sorrow. So Sir Tristram rode by a forest, and then was he ware of a
  • fair tower by a marsh on that one side, and on that other side a fair
  • meadow. And there he saw ten knights fighting together. And ever the
  • nearer he came he saw how there was but one knight did battle against
  • nine knights, and that one did so marvellously that Sir Tristram had
  • great wonder that ever one knight might do so great deeds of arms. And
  • then within a little while he had slain half their horses and unhorsed
  • them, and their horses ran in the fields and forest. Then Sir Tristram
  • had so great pity of that one knight that endured so great pain, and
  • ever he thought it should be Sir Palomides, by his shield. And so he
  • rode unto the knights and cried unto them, and bade them cease of their
  • battle, for they did themselves great shame so many knights to fight
  • with one. Then answered the master of those knights, his name was
  • called Breuse Saunce Pité, that was at that time the most mischievoust
  • knight living, and said thus: Sir knight, what have ye ado with us to
  • meddle? and therefore, an ye be wise, depart on your way as ye came,
  • for this knight shall not escape us. That were pity, said Sir Tristram,
  • that so good a knight as he is should be slain so cowardly; and
  • therefore I warn you I will succour him with all my puissance.
  • CHAPTER II. How Sir Tristram saved Sir Palomides’ life, and how they
  • promised to fight together within a fortnight.
  • So Sir Tristram alighted off his horse because they were on foot, that
  • they should not slay his horse, and then dressed his shield, with his
  • sword in his hand, and he smote on the right hand and on the left hand
  • passing sore, that well-nigh at every stroke he struck down a knight.
  • And when they espied his strokes they fled all with Breuse Saunce Pité
  • unto the tower, and Sir Tristram followed fast after with his sword in
  • his hand, but they escaped into the tower, and shut Sir Tristram
  • without the gate. And when Sir Tristram saw this he returned aback unto
  • Sir Palomides, and found him sitting under a tree sore wounded. Ah,
  • fair knight, said Sir Tristram, well be ye found. Gramercy, said Sir
  • Palomides, of your great goodness, for ye have rescued me of my life,
  • and saved me from my death. What is your name? said Sir Tristram. He
  • said: My name is Sir Palomides. O Jesu, said Sir Tristram, thou hast a
  • fair grace of me this day that I should rescue thee, and thou art the
  • man in the world that I most hate; but now make thee ready, for I will
  • do battle with thee. What is your name? said Sir Palomides. My name is
  • Sir Tristram, your mortal enemy. It may be so, said Sir Palomides; but
  • ye have done over much for me this day that I should fight with you;
  • for inasmuch as ye have saved my life it will be no worship for you to
  • have ado with me, for ye are fresh and I am wounded sore, and
  • therefore, an ye will needs have ado with me, assign me a day and then
  • I shall meet with you without fail. Ye say well, said Sir Tristram, now
  • I assign you to meet me in the meadow by the river of Camelot, where
  • Merlin set the peron. So they were agreed.
  • Then Sir Tristram asked Sir Palomides why the ten knights did battle
  • with him. For this cause, said Sir Palomides; as I rode upon mine
  • adventures in a forest here beside I espied where lay a dead knight,
  • and a lady weeping beside him. And when I saw her making such dole, I
  • asked her who slew her lord. Sir, she said, the falsest knight of the
  • world now living, and he is the most villain that ever man heard speak
  • of and his name is Sir Breuse Saunce Pité. Then for pity I made the
  • damosel to leap on her palfrey, and I promised her to be her warrant,
  • and to help her to inter her lord. And so, suddenly, as I came riding
  • by this tower, there came out Sir Breuse Saunce Pité, and suddenly he
  • struck me from my horse. And then or I might recover my horse this Sir
  • Breuse slew the damosel. And so I took my horse again, and I was sore
  • ashamed, and so began the medley betwixt us: and this is the cause
  • wherefore we did this battle. Well, said Sir Tristram, now I understand
  • the manner of your battle, but in any wise have remembrance of your
  • promise that ye have made with me to do battle with me this day
  • fortnight. I shall not fail you, said Sir Palomides. Well, said Sir
  • Tristram, as at this time I will not fail you till that ye be out of
  • the danger of your enemies.
  • So they mounted upon their horses, and rode together unto that forest,
  • and there they found a fair well, with clear water bubbling. Fair sir,
  • said Sir Tristram, to drink of that water have I courage; and then they
  • alighted off their horses. And then were they ware by them where stood
  • a great horse tied to a tree, and ever he neighed. And then were they
  • ware of a fair knight armed, under a tree, lacking no piece of harness,
  • save his helm lay under his head. By the good lord, said Sir Tristram,
  • yonder lieth a well-faring knight; what is best to do? Awake him, said
  • Sir Palomides. So Sir Tristram awaked him with the butt of his spear.
  • And so the knight rose up hastily and put his helm upon his head, and
  • gat a great spear in his hand; and without any more words he hurled
  • unto Sir Tristram, and smote him clean from his saddle to the earth,
  • and hurt him on the left side, that Sir Tristram lay in great peril.
  • Then he walloped farther, and fetched his course, and came hurling upon
  • Sir Palomides, and there he struck him a part through the body, that he
  • fell from his horse to the earth. And then this strange knight left
  • them there, and took his way through the forest. With this Sir
  • Palomides and Sir Tristram were on foot, and gat their horses again,
  • and either asked counsel of other, what was best to do. By my head,
  • said Sir Tristram, I will follow this strong knight that thus hath
  • shamed us. Well, said Sir Palomides, and I will repose me hereby with a
  • friend of mine. Beware, said Sir Tristram unto Palomides, that ye fail
  • not that day that ye have set with me to do battle, for, as I deem, ye
  • will not hold your day, for I am much bigger than ye. As for that, said
  • Sir Palomides, be it as it be may, for I fear you not, for an I be not
  • sick nor prisoner, I will not fail you; but I have cause to have more
  • doubt of you that ye will not meet with me, for ye ride after yonder
  • strong knight. And if ye meet with him it is an hard adventure an ever
  • ye escape his hands. Right so Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides departed,
  • and either took their ways diverse.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Tristram sought a strong knight that had smitten
  • him down, and many other knights of the Round Table.
  • And so Sir Tristram rode long after this strong knight. And at the last
  • he saw where lay a lady overthwart a dead knight. Fair lady, said Sir
  • Tristram, who hath slain your lord? Sir, she said, here came a knight
  • riding, as my lord and I rested us here, and asked him of whence he
  • was, and my lord said of Arthur’s court. Therefore, said the strong
  • knight, I will joust with thee, for I hate all these that be of
  • Arthur’s court. And my lord that lieth here dead amounted upon his
  • horse, and the strong knight and my lord encountered together, and
  • there he smote my lord throughout with his spear, and thus he hath
  • brought me in great woe and damage. That me repenteth, said Sir
  • Tristram, of your great anger; an it please you tell me your husband’s
  • name. Sir, said she, his name was Galardoun, that would have proved a
  • good knight. So departed Sir Tristram from that dolorous lady, and had
  • much evil lodging. Then on the third day Sir Tristram met with Sir
  • Gawaine and with Sir Bleoberis in a forest at a lodge, and either were
  • sore wounded. Then Sir Tristram asked Sir Gawaine and Sir Bleoberis if
  • they met with such a knight, with such a cognisance, with a covered
  • shield. Fair sir, said these knights, such a knight met with us to our
  • great damage. And first he smote down my fellow, Sir Bleoberis, and
  • sore wounded him because he bade me I should not have ado with him, for
  • why he was overstrong for me. That strong knight took his words at
  • scorn, and said he said it for mockery. And then they rode together,
  • and so he hurt my fellow. And when he had done so I might not for shame
  • but I must joust with him. And at the first course he smote me down and
  • my horse to the earth. And there he had almost slain me, and from us he
  • took his horse and departed, and in an evil time we met with him. Fair
  • knights, said Sir Tristram, so he met with me, and with another knight
  • that hight Palomides, and he smote us both down with one spear, and
  • hurt us right sore. By my faith, said Sir Gawaine, by my counsel ye
  • shall let him pass and seek him no further; for at the next feast of
  • the Round Table, upon pain of my head ye shall find him there. By my
  • faith, said Sir Tristram, I shall never rest till that I find him. And
  • then Sir Gawaine asked him his name. Then he said: My name is Sir
  • Tristram. And so either told other their names, and then departed Sir
  • Tristram and rode his way.
  • And by fortune in a meadow Sir Tristram met with Sir Kay, the
  • Seneschal, and Sir Dinadan. What tidings with you, said Sir Tristram,
  • with you knights? Not good, said these knights. Why so? said Sir
  • Tristram; I pray you tell me, for I ride to seek a knight. What
  • cognisance beareth he? said Sir Kay. He beareth, said Sir Tristram, a
  • covered shield close with cloth. By my head, said Sir Kay, that is the
  • same knight that met with us, for this night we were lodged within a
  • widow’s house, and there was that knight lodged; and when he wist we
  • were of Arthur’s court he spoke great villainy by the king, and
  • specially by the Queen Guenever, and then on the morn was waged battle
  • with him for that cause. And at the first recounter, said Sir Kay, he
  • smote me down from my horse and hurt me passing sore; and when my
  • fellow, Sir Dinadan, saw me smitten down and hurt he would not revenge
  • me, but fled from me; and thus he departed. And then Sir Tristram asked
  • them their names, and so either told other their names. And so Sir
  • Tristram departed from Sir Kay, and from Sir Dinadan, and so he passed
  • through a great forest into a plain, till he was ware of a priory, and
  • there he reposed him with a good man six days.
  • CHAPTER IV. How Sir Tristram smote down Sir Sagramore le Desirous and
  • Sir Dodinas le Savage.
  • And then he sent his man that hight Gouvernail, and commanded him to go
  • to a city thereby to fetch him new harness; for it was long time afore
  • that that Sir Tristram had been refreshed, his harness was brised and
  • broken. And when Gouvernail, his servant, was come with his apparel, he
  • took his leave at the widow, and mounted upon his horse, and rode his
  • way early on the morn. And by sudden adventure Sir Tristram met with
  • Sir Sagramore le Desirous, and with Sir Dodinas le Savage. And these
  • two knights met with Sir Tristram and questioned with him, and asked
  • him if he would joust with them. Fair knights, said Sir Tristram, with
  • a good will I would joust with you, but I have promised at a day set,
  • near hand, to do battle with a strong knight; and therefore I am loath
  • to have ado with you, for an it misfortuned me here to be hurt I should
  • not be able to do my battle which I promised. As for that, said
  • Sagramore, maugre your head, ye shall joust with us or ye pass from us.
  • Well, said Sir Tristram, if ye enforce me thereto I must do what I may.
  • And then they dressed their shields, and came running together with
  • great ire. But through Sir Tristram’s great force he struck Sir
  • Sagramore from his horse. Then he hurled his horse farther, and said to
  • Sir Dodinas: Knight, make thee ready; and so through fine force Sir
  • Tristram struck Dodinas from his horse. And when he saw them lie on the
  • earth he took his bridle, and rode forth on his way, and his man
  • Gouvernail with him.
  • Anon as Sir Tristram was passed, Sir Sagramore and Sir Dodinas gat
  • again their horses, and mounted up lightly and followed after Sir
  • Tristram. And when Sir Tristram saw them come so fast after him he
  • returned with his horse to them, and asked them what they would. It is
  • not long ago sithen I smote you to the earth at your own request and
  • desire: I would have ridden by you, but ye would not suffer me, and now
  • meseemeth ye would do more battle with me. That is truth, said Sir
  • Sagramore and Sir Dodinas, for we will be revenged of the despite ye
  • have done to us. Fair knights, said Sir Tristram, that shall little
  • need you, for all that I did to you ye caused it; wherefore I require
  • you of your knighthood leave me as at this time, for I am sure an I do
  • battle with you I shall not escape without great hurts, and as I
  • suppose ye shall not escape all lotless. And this is the cause why I am
  • so loath to have ado with you; for I must fight within these three days
  • with a good knight, and as valiant as any is now living, and if I be
  • hurt I shall not be able to do battle with him. What knight is that,
  • said Sir Sagramore, that ye shall fight withal? Sirs, said he, it is a
  • good knight called Sir Palomides. By my head, said Sir Sagramore and
  • Sir Dodinas, ye have cause to dread him, for ye shall find him a
  • passing good knight, and a valiant. And because ye shall have ado with
  • him we will forbear you as at this time, and else ye should not escape
  • us lightly. But, fair knight, said Sir Sagramore, tell us your name.
  • Sir, said he, my name is Sir Tristram de Liones. Ah, said Sagramore and
  • Sir Dodinas, well be ye found, for much worship have we heard of you.
  • And then either took leave of other, and departed on their way.
  • CHAPTER V. How Sir Tristram met at the peron with Sir Launcelot, and
  • how they fought together unknown.
  • Then departed Sir Tristram and rode straight unto Camelot, to the peron
  • that Merlin had made to-fore, where Sir Lanceor, that was the king’s
  • son of Ireland, was slain by the hands of Balin. And in that same place
  • was the fair lady Colombe slain, that was love unto Sir Lanceor; for
  • after he was dead she took his sword and thrust it through her body.
  • And by the craft of Merlin he made to inter this knight, Lanceor, and
  • his lady, Colombe, under one stone. And at that time Merlin prophesied
  • that in that same place should fight two the best knights that ever
  • were in Arthur’s days, and the best lovers. So when Sir Tristram came
  • to the tomb where Lanceor and his lady were buried he looked about him
  • after Sir Palomides. Then was he ware of a seemly knight came riding
  • against him all in white, with a covered shield. When he came nigh Sir
  • Tristram he said on high: Ye be welcome, sir knight, and well and truly
  • have ye holden your promise. And then they dressed their shields and
  • spears, and came together with all their might of their horses; and
  • they met so fiercely that both their horses and knights fell to the
  • earth, and as fast as they might avoided their horses, and put their
  • shields afore them; and they struck together with bright swords, as men
  • that were of might, and either wounded other wonderly sore, that the
  • blood ran out upon the grass. And thus they fought the space of four
  • hours, that never one would speak to other one word, and of their
  • harness they had hewn off many pieces. O Lord Jesu, said Gouvernail, I
  • marvel greatly of the strokes my master hath given to your master. By
  • my head, said Sir Launcelot’s servant, your master hath not given so
  • many but your master has received as many or more. O Jesu, said
  • Gouvernail, it is too much for Sir Palomides to suffer or Sir
  • Launcelot, and yet pity it were that either of these good knights
  • should destroy other’s blood. So they stood and wept both, and made
  • great dole when they saw the bright swords over-covered with blood of
  • their bodies.
  • Then at the last spake Sir Launcelot and said: Knight, thou fightest
  • wonderly well as ever I saw knight, therefore, an it please you, tell
  • me your name. Sir, said Sir Tristram, that is me loath to tell any man
  • my name. Truly, said Sir Launcelot, an I were required I was never
  • loath to tell my name. It is well said, said Sir Tristram, then I
  • require you to tell me your name? Fair knight, he said, my name is Sir
  • Launcelot du Lake. Alas, said Sir Tristram, what have I done! for ye
  • are the man in the world that I love best. Fair knight, said Sir
  • Launcelot, tell me your name? Truly, said he, my name is Sir Tristram
  • de Liones. O Jesu, said Sir Launcelot, what adventure is befallen me!
  • And therewith Sir Launcelot kneeled down and yielded him up his sword.
  • And therewith Sir Tristram kneeled adown, and yielded him up his sword.
  • And so either gave other the degree. And then they both forthwithal
  • went to the stone, and set them down upon it, and took off their helms
  • to cool them, and either kissed other an hundred times. And then anon
  • after they took off their helms and rode to Camelot. And there they met
  • with Sir Gawaine and with Sir Gaheris that had made promise to Arthur
  • never to come again to the court till they had brought Sir Tristram
  • with them.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Sir Launcelot brought Sir Tristram to the court, and of
  • the great joy that the king and other made for the coming of Sir
  • Tristram.
  • Return again, said Sir Launcelot, for your quest is done, for I have
  • met with Sir Tristram: lo, here is his own person! Then was Sir Gawaine
  • glad, and said to Sir Tristram: Ye are welcome, for now have ye eased
  • me greatly of my labour. For what cause, said Sir Gawaine, came ye into
  • this court? Fair sir, said Sir Tristram, I came into this country
  • because of Sir Palomides; for he and I had assigned at this day to have
  • done battle together at the peron, and I marvel I hear not of him. And
  • thus by adventure my lord, Sir Launcelot, and I met together. With this
  • came King Arthur, and when he wist that there was Sir Tristram, then he
  • ran unto him and took him by the hand and said: Sir Tristram, ye are as
  • welcome as any knight that ever came to this court. And when the king
  • had heard how Sir Launcelot and he had foughten, and either had wounded
  • other wonderly sore, then the king made great dole. Then Sir Tristram
  • told the king how he came thither for to have had ado with Sir
  • Palomides. And then he told the king how he had rescued him from the
  • nine knights and Breuse Saunce Pité; and how he found a knight lying by
  • a well, and that knight smote down Sir Palomides and me, but his shield
  • was covered with a cloth. So Sir Palomides left me, and I followed
  • after that knight; and in many places I found where he had slain
  • knights, and forjousted many. By my head, said Sir Gawaine, that same
  • knight smote me down and Sir Bleoberis, and hurt us sore both, he with
  • the covered shield. Ah, said Sir Kay, that knight smote me adown and
  • hurt me passing sore, and fain would I have known him, but I might not.
  • Jesu, mercy, said Arthur, what knight was that with the covered shield?
  • I know not, said Sir Tristram; and so said they all. Now, said King
  • Arthur, then wot I, for it is Sir Launcelot. Then they all looked upon
  • Sir Launcelot and said: Ye have beguiled us with your covered shield.
  • It is not the first time, said Arthur, he hath done so. My lord, said
  • Sir Launcelot, truly wit ye well I was the same knight that bare the
  • covered shield; and because I would not be known that I was of your
  • court I said no worship of your house. That is truth, said Sir Gawaine,
  • Sir Kay, and Sir Bleoberis.
  • Then King Arthur took Sir Tristram by the hand and went to the Table
  • Round. Then came Queen Guenever and many ladies with her, and all the
  • ladies said at one voice: Welcome, Sir Tristram! Welcome, said the
  • damosels. Welcome, said knights. Welcome, said Arthur, for one of the
  • best knights, and the gentlest of the world, and the man of most
  • worship; for of all manner of hunting thou bearest the prize, and of
  • all measures of blowing thou art the beginning, and of all the terms of
  • hunting and hawking ye are the beginner, of all instruments of music ye
  • are the best; therefore, gentle knight, said Arthur, ye are welcome to
  • this court. And also, I pray you, said Arthur, grant me a boon. It
  • shall be at your commandment, said Tristram. Well, said Arthur, I will
  • desire of you that ye will abide in my court. Sir, said Sir Tristram,
  • thereto is me loath, for I have ado in many countries. Not so, said
  • Arthur, ye have promised it me, ye may not say nay. Sir, said Sir
  • Tristram, I will as ye will. Then went Arthur unto the sieges about the
  • Round Table, and looked in every siege the which were void that lacked
  • knights. And then the king saw in the siege of Marhaus letters that
  • said: This is the siege of the noble knight, Sir Tristram. And then
  • Arthur made Sir Tristram Knight of the Table Round, with great nobley
  • and great feast as might be thought. For Sir Marhaus was slain afore by
  • the hands of Sir Tristram in an island; and that was well known at that
  • time in the court of Arthur, for this Marhaus was a worthy knight. And
  • for evil deeds that he did unto the country of Cornwall Sir Tristram
  • and he fought. And they fought so long, tracing and traversing, till
  • they fell bleeding to the earth; for they were so sore wounded that
  • they might not stand for bleeding. And Sir Tristram by fortune
  • recovered, and Sir Marhaus died through the stroke on the head. So
  • leave we of Sir Tristram and speak we of King Mark.
  • CHAPTER VII. How for the despite of Sir Tristram King Mark came with
  • two knights into England, and how he slew one of the knights.
  • Then King Mark had great despite of the renown of Sir Tristram, and
  • then he chased him out of Cornwall: yet was he nephew unto King Mark,
  • but he had great suspicion unto Sir Tristram because of his queen, La
  • Beale Isoud; for him seemed that there was too much love between them
  • both. So when Sir Tristram departed out of Cornwall into England King
  • Mark heard of the great prowess that Sir Tristram did there, the which
  • grieved him sore. So he sent on his part men to espy what deeds he did.
  • And the queen sent privily on her part spies to know what deeds he had
  • done, for great love was between them twain. So when the messengers
  • were come home they told the truth as they had heard, that he passed
  • all other knights but if it were Sir Launcelot. Then King Mark was
  • right heavy of these tidings, and as glad was La Beale Isoud. Then in
  • great despite he took with him two good knights and two squires, and
  • disguised himself, and took his way into England, to the intent for to
  • slay Sir Tristram. And one of these two knights hight Bersules, and the
  • other knight was called Amant. So as they rode King Mark asked a knight
  • that he met, where he should find King Arthur. He said: At Camelot.
  • Also he asked that knight after Sir Tristram, whether he heard of him
  • in the court of King Arthur. Wit you well, said that knight, ye shall
  • find Sir Tristram there for a man of as great worship as is now living;
  • for through his prowess he won the tournament of the Castle of Maidens
  • that standeth by the Hard Rock. And sithen he hath won with his own
  • hands thirty knights that were men of great honour. And the last battle
  • that ever he did he fought with Sir Launcelot; and that was a
  • marvellous battle. And not by force Sir Launcelot brought Sir Tristram
  • to the court, and of him King Arthur made passing great joy, and so
  • made him Knight of the Table Round; and his seat was where the good
  • knight’s, Sir Marhaus, seat was. Then was King Mark passing sorry when
  • he heard of the honour of Sir Tristram; and so they departed.
  • Then said King Mark unto his two knights: Now will I tell you my
  • counsel: ye are the men that I trust most to alive, and I will that ye
  • wit my coming hither is to this intent, for to destroy Sir Tristram by
  • wiles or by treason; and it shall be hard if ever he escape our hands.
  • Alas, said Sir Bersules, what mean you? for ye be set in such a way ye
  • are disposed shamefully; for Sir Tristram is the knight of most worship
  • that we know living, and therefore I warn you plainly I will never
  • consent to do him to the death; and therefore I will yield my service,
  • and forsake you. When King Mark heard him say so, suddenly he drew his
  • sword and said: Ah, traitor; and smote Sir Bersules on the head, that
  • the sword went to his teeth. When Amant, the knight, saw him do that
  • villainous deed, and his squires, they said it was foul done, and
  • mischievously: Wherefore we will do thee no more service, and wit ye
  • well, we will appeach thee of treason afore Arthur. Then was King Mark
  • wonderly wroth and would have slain Amant; but he and the two squires
  • held them together, and set nought by his malice. When King Mark saw he
  • might not be revenged on them, he said thus unto the knight, Amant: Wit
  • thou well, an thou appeach me of treason I shall thereof defend me
  • afore King Arthur; but I require thee that thou tell not my name, that
  • I am King Mark, whatsomever come of me. As for that, said Sir Amant, I
  • will not discover your name; and so they departed, and Amant and his
  • fellows took the body of Bersules and buried it.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How King Mark came to a fountain where he found Sir
  • Lamorak complaining for the love of King Lot’s wife.
  • Then King Mark rode till he came to a fountain, and there he rested
  • him, and stood in a doubt whether he would ride to Arthur’s court or
  • none, or return again to his country. And as he thus rested him by that
  • fountain there came by him a knight well armed on horseback; and he
  • alighted, and tied his horse until a tree, and set him down by the
  • brink of the fountain; and there he made great languor and dole, and
  • made the dolefullest complaint of love that ever man heard; and all
  • this while was he not ware of King Mark. And this was a great part of
  • his complaint: he cried and wept, saying: O fair Queen of Orkney, King
  • Lot’s wife, and mother of Sir Gawaine, and to Sir Gaheris, and mother
  • to many other, for thy love I am in great pains. Then King Mark arose
  • and went near him and said: Fair knight, ye have made a piteous
  • complaint. Truly, said the knight, it is an hundred part more ruefuller
  • than my heart can utter. I require you, said King Mark, tell me your
  • name. Sir, said he, as for my name I will not hide it from no knight
  • that beareth a shield, and my name is Sir Lamorak de Galis. But when
  • Sir Lamorak heard King Mark speak, then wist he well by his speech that
  • he was a Cornish knight. Sir, said Sir Lamorak, I understand by your
  • tongue ye be of Cornwall, wherein there dwelleth the shamefullest king
  • that is now living, for he is a great enemy to all good knights; and
  • that proveth well, for he hath chased out of that country Sir Tristram,
  • that is the worshipfullest knight that now is living, and all knights
  • speak of him worship; and for jealousness of his queen he hath chased
  • him out of his country. It is pity, said Sir Lamorak, that ever any
  • such false knight-coward as King Mark is, should be matched with such a
  • fair lady and good as La Beale Isoud is, for all the world of him
  • speaketh shame, and of her worship that any queen may have. I have not
  • ado in this matter, said King Mark, neither nought will I speak
  • thereof. Well said, said Sir Lamorak. Sir, can ye tell me any tidings?
  • I can tell you, said Sir Lamorak, that there shall be a great
  • tournament in haste beside Camelot, at the Castle of Jagent; and the
  • King with the Hundred Knights and the King of Ireland, as I suppose,
  • make that tournament.
  • Then there came a knight that was called Sir Dinadan, and saluted them
  • both. And when he wist that King Mark was a knight of Cornwall he
  • reproved him for the love of King Mark a thousand fold more than did
  • Sir Lamorak. Then he proffered to joust with King Mark. And he was full
  • loath thereto, but Sir Dinadan edged him so, that he jousted with Sir
  • Lamorak. And Sir Lamorak smote King Mark so sore that he bare him on
  • his spear end over his horse’s tail. And then King Mark arose again,
  • and followed after Sir Lamorak. But Sir Dinadan would not joust with
  • Sir Lamorak, but he told King Mark that Sir Lamorak was Sir Kay, the
  • Seneschal. That is not so, said King Mark, for he is much bigger than
  • Sir Kay; and so he followed and overtook him, and bade him abide. What
  • will you do? said Sir Lamorak. Sir, he said, I will fight with a sword,
  • for ye have shamed me with a spear; and therewith they dashed together
  • with swords, and Sir Lamorak suffered him and forbare him. And King
  • Mark was passing hasty, and smote thick strokes. Sir Lamorak saw he
  • would not stint, and waxed somewhat wroth, and doubled his strokes, for
  • he was one of the noblest knights of the world; and he beat him so on
  • the helm that his head hung nigh on the saddle bow. When Sir Lamorak
  • saw him fare so, he said: Sir knight, what cheer? meseemeth you have
  • nigh your fill of fighting, it were pity to do you any more harm, for
  • ye are but a mean knight, therefore I give you leave to go where ye
  • list. Gramercy, said King Mark, for ye and I be not matches.
  • Then Sir Dinadan mocked King Mark and said: Ye are not able to match a
  • good knight. As for that, said King Mark, at the first time I jousted
  • with this knight ye refused him. Think ye that it is a shame to me?
  • said Sir Dinadan: nay, sir, it is ever worship to a knight to refuse
  • that thing that he may not attain, there fore your worship had been
  • much more to have refused him as I did; for I warn you plainly he is
  • able to beat such five as ye and I be; for ye knights of Cornwall are
  • no men of worship as other knights are. And because ye are no men of
  • worship ye hate all men of worship, for never was bred in your country
  • such a knight as is Sir Tristram.
  • CHAPTER IX. How King Mark, Sir Lamorak, and Sir Dinadan came to a
  • castle, and how King Mark was known there.
  • Then they rode forth all together, King Mark, Sir Lamorak, and Sir
  • Dinadan, till that they came to a bridge, and at the end thereof stood
  • a fair tower. Then saw they a knight on horseback well armed,
  • brandishing a spear, crying and proffering himself to joust. Now, said
  • Sir Dinadan unto King Mark, yonder are two brethren, that one hight
  • Alein, and the other hight Trian, that will joust with any that passeth
  • this passage. Now proffer yourself, said Dinadan to King Mark, for ever
  • ye be laid to the earth. Then King Mark was ashamed, and therewith he
  • feutred his spear, and hurtled to Sir Trian, and either brake their
  • spears all to pieces, and passed through anon. Then Sir Trian sent King
  • Mark another spear to joust more; but in no wise he would not joust no
  • more. Then they came to the castle all three knights, and prayed the
  • lord of the castle of harbour. Ye are right welcome, said the knights
  • of the castle, for the love of the lord of this castle, the which hight
  • Sir Tor le Fise Aries. And then they came into a fair court well
  • repaired, and they had passing good cheer, till the lieutenant of this
  • castle, that hight Berluse, espied King Mark of Cornwall. Then said
  • Berluse: Sir knight, I know you better than you ween, for ye are King
  • Mark that slew my father afore mine own eyen; and me had ye slain had I
  • not escaped into a wood; but wit ye well, for the love of my lord of
  • this castle I will neither hurt you nor harm you, nor none of your
  • fellowship. But wit ye well, when ye are past this lodging I shall hurt
  • you an I may, for ye slew my father traitorly. But first for the love
  • of my lord, Sir Tor, and for the love of Sir Lamorak, the honourable
  • knight that here is lodged, ye shall have none ill lodging; for it is
  • pity that ever ye should be in the company of good knights; for ye are
  • the most villainous knight or king that is now known alive, for ye are
  • a destroyer of good knights, and all that ye do is but treason.
  • CHAPTER X. How Sir Berluse met with King Mark, and how Sir Dinadan took
  • his part.
  • Then was King Mark sore ashamed, and said but little again. But when
  • Sir Lamorak and Sir Dinadan wist that he was King Mark they were sorry
  • of his fellowship. So after supper they went to lodging. So on the morn
  • they arose early, and King Mark and Sir Dinadan rode together; and
  • three mile from their lodging there met with them three knights, and
  • Sir Berluse was one, and that other his two cousins. Sir Berluse saw
  • King Mark, and then he cried on high: Traitor, keep thee from me for
  • wit thou well that I am Berluse. Sir knight, said Sir Dinadan, I
  • counsel you to leave off at this time, for he is riding to King Arthur;
  • and because I have promised to conduct him to my lord King Arthur needs
  • must I take a part with him; howbeit I love not his condition, and fain
  • I would be from him. Well, Dinadan, said Sir Berluse, me repenteth that
  • ye will take part with him, but now do your best. And then he hurtled
  • to King Mark, and smote him sore upon the shield, that he bare him
  • clean out of his saddle to the earth. That saw Sir Dinadan, and he
  • feutred his spear, and ran to one of Berluse’s fellows, and smote him
  • down off his saddle. Then Dinadan turned his horse, and smote the third
  • knight in the same wise to the earth, for Sir Dinadan was a good knight
  • on horseback; and there began a great battle, for Berluse and his
  • fellows held them together strongly on foot. And so through the great
  • force of Sir Dinadan King Mark had Berluse to the earth, and his two
  • fellows fled; and had not been Sir Dinadan King Mark would have slain
  • him. And so Sir Dinadan rescued him of his life, for King Mark was but
  • a murderer. And then they took their horses and departed and left Sir
  • Berluse there sore wounded.
  • Then King Mark and Sir Dinadan rode forth a four leagues English, till
  • that they came to a bridge where hoved a knight on horseback, armed and
  • ready to joust. Lo, said Sir Dinadan unto King Mark, yonder hoveth a
  • knight that will joust, for there shall none pass this bridge but he
  • must joust with that knight. It is well, said King Mark, for this
  • jousts falleth with thee. Sir Dinadan knew the knight well that he was
  • a noble knight, and fain he would have jousted, but he had had liefer
  • King Mark had jousted with him, but by no mean King Mark would not
  • joust. Then Sir Dinadan might not refuse him in no manner. And then
  • either dressed their spears and their shields, and smote together, so
  • that through fine force Sir Dinadan was smitten to the earth; and
  • lightly he rose up and gat his horse, and required that knight to do
  • battle with swords. And he answered and said: Fair knight, as at this
  • time I may not have ado with you no more, for the custom of this
  • passage is such. Then was Sir Dinadan passing wroth that he might not
  • be revenged of that knight; and so he departed, and in no wise would
  • that knight tell his name. But ever Sir Dinadan thought he should know
  • him by his shield that it should be Sir Tor.
  • CHAPTER XI. How King Mark mocked Sir Dinadan, and how they met with six
  • knights of the Round Table.
  • So as they rode by the way King Mark then began to mock Sir Dinadan,
  • and said: I weened you knights of the Table Round might not in no wise
  • find their matches. Ye say well, said Sir Dinadan; as for you, on my
  • life I call you none of the best knights; but sith ye have such a
  • despite at me I require you to joust with me to prove my strength. Not
  • so, said King Mark, for I will not have ado with you in no manner; but
  • I require you of one thing, that when ye come to Arthur’s court
  • discover not my name, for I am there so hated. It is shame to you, said
  • Sir Dinadan, that ye govern you so shamefully; for I see by you ye are
  • full of cowardice, and ye are a murderer, and that is the greatest
  • shame that a knight may have; for never a knight being a murderer hath
  • worship, nor never shall have; for I saw but late through my force ye
  • would have slain Sir Berluse, a better knight than ye, or ever ye shall
  • be, and more of prowess. Thus they rode forth talking till they came to
  • a fair place, where stood a knight, and prayed them to take their
  • lodging with him. So at the request of that knight they reposed them
  • there, and made them well at ease, and had great cheer. For all
  • errant-knights were welcome to him, and specially all those of Arthur’s
  • court. Then Sir Dinadan demanded his host what was the knight’s name
  • that kept the bridge. For what cause ask you it? said the host. For it
  • is not long ago, said Sir Dinadan, sithen he gave me a fall. Ah, fair
  • knight, said his host, thereof have ye no marvel, for he is a passing
  • good knight, and his name is Sir Tor, the son of Aries le Vaysher. Ah,
  • said Sir Dinadan, was that Sir Tor? for truly so ever me thought.
  • Right as they stood thus talking together they saw come riding to them
  • over a plain six knights of the court of King Arthur, well armed at all
  • points. And there by their shields Sir Dinadan knew them well. The
  • first was the good knight Sir Uwaine, the son of King Uriens, the
  • second was the noble knight Sir Brandiles, the third was Ozana le Cure
  • Hardy, the fourth was Uwaine les Aventurous, the fifth was Sir
  • Agravaine, the sixth Sir Mordred, brother to Sir Gawaine. When Sir
  • Dinadan had seen these six knights he thought in himself he would bring
  • King Mark by some wile to joust with one of them. And anon they took
  • their horses and ran after these knights well a three mile English.
  • Then was King Mark ware where they sat all six about a well, and ate
  • and drank such meats as they had, and their horses walking and some
  • tied, and their shields hung in divers places about them. Lo, said Sir
  • Dinadan, yonder are knights-errant that will joust with us. God forbid,
  • said King Mark, for they be six and we but two. As for that, said Sir
  • Dinadan, let us not spare, for I will assay the foremost; and therewith
  • he made him ready. When King Mark saw him do so, as fast as Sir Dinadan
  • rode toward them, King Mark rode froward them with all his menial
  • meiny. So when Sir Dinadan saw King Mark was gone, he set the spear out
  • of the rest, and threw his shield upon his back, and came, riding to
  • the fellowship of the Table Round. And anon Sir Uwaine knew Sir
  • Dinadan, and welcomed him, and so did all his fellowship.
  • CHAPTER XII. How the six knights sent Sir Dagonet to joust with King
  • Mark, and how King Mark refused him.
  • And then they asked him of his adventures, and whether he had seen Sir
  • Tristram or Sir Launcelot. So God me help, said Sir Dinadan, I saw none
  • of them sithen I departed from Camelot. What knight is that, said Sir
  • Brandiles, that so suddenly departed from you, and rode over yonder
  • field? Sir, said he, it was a knight of Cornwall, and the most horrible
  • coward that ever bestrode horse. What is his name? said all these
  • knights. I wot not, said Sir Dinadan. So when they had reposed them,
  • and spoken together, they took their horses and rode to a castle where
  • dwelt an old knight that made all knights-errant good cheer. Then in
  • the meanwhile that they were talking came into the castle Sir Griflet
  • le Fise de Dieu, and there was he welcome; and they all asked him
  • whether he had seen Sir Launcelot or Sir Tristram. Sirs, he answered, I
  • saw him not sithen he departed from Camelot. So as Sir Dinadan walked
  • and beheld the castle, thereby in a chamber he espied King Mark, and
  • then he rebuked him, and asked him why he departed so. Sir, said he,
  • for I durst not abide because they were so many. But how escaped ye?
  • said King Mark. Sir, said Sir Dinadan, they were better friends than I
  • weened they had been. Who is captain of that fellowship? said the king.
  • Then for to fear him Sir Dinadan said that it was Sir Launcelot. O
  • Jesu, said the king, might I know Sir Launcelot by his shield? Yea,
  • said Dinadan, for he beareth a shield of silver and black bends. All
  • this he said to fear the king, for Sir Launcelot was not in his
  • fellowship. Now I pray you, said King Mark, that ye will ride in my
  • fellowship. That is me loath to do, said Sir Dinadan, because ye
  • forsook my fellowship.
  • Right so Sir Dinadan went from King Mark, and went to his own
  • fellowship; and so they mounted upon their horses, and rode on their
  • ways, and talked of the Cornish knight, for Dinadan told them that he
  • was in the castle where they were lodged. It is well said, said Sir
  • Griflet, for here have I brought Sir Dagonet, King Arthur’s fool, that
  • is the best fellow and the merriest in the world. Will ye do well? said
  • Sir Dinadan: I have told the Cornish knight that here is Sir Launcelot,
  • and the Cornish knight asked me what shield he bare. Truly, I told him
  • that he bare the same shield that Sir Mordred beareth. Will ye do well?
  • said Sir Mordred; I am hurt and may not well bear my shield nor
  • harness, and therefore put my shield and my harness upon Sir Dagonet,
  • and let him set upon the Cornish knight. That shall be done, said Sir
  • Dagonet, by my faith. Then anon was Dagonet armed him in Mordred’s
  • harness and his shield, and he was set on a great horse, and a spear in
  • his hand. Now, said Dagonet, shew me the knight, and I trow I shall
  • bear him down. So all these knights rode to a woodside, and abode till
  • King Mark came by the way. Then they put forth Sir Dagonet, and he came
  • on all the while his horse might run, straight upon King Mark. And when
  • he came nigh King Mark, he cried as he were wood, and said: Keep thee,
  • knight of Cornwall, for I will slay thee. Anon, as King Mark beheld his
  • shield, he said to himself: Yonder is Sir Launcelot; alas, now am I
  • destroyed; and therewithal he made his horse to run as fast as it might
  • through thick and thin. And ever Sir Dagonet followed after King Mark,
  • crying and rating him as a wood man, through a great forest. When Sir
  • Uwaine and Sir Brandiles saw Dagonet so chase King Mark, they laughed
  • all as they were wood. And then they took their horses, and rode after
  • to see how Sir Dagonet sped, for they would not for no good that Sir
  • Dagonet were shent, for King Arthur loved him passing well, and made
  • him knight with his own hands. And at every tournament he began to make
  • King Arthur to laugh. Then the knights rode here and there, crying and
  • chasing after King Mark, that all the forest rang of the noise.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How Sir Palomides by adventure met King Mark flying, and
  • how he overthrew Dagonet and other knights.
  • So King Mark rode by fortune by a well, in the way where stood a
  • knight-errant on horseback, armed at all points, with a great spear in
  • his hand. And when he saw King Mark coming flying he said: Knight,
  • return again for shame and stand with me, and I shall be thy warrant.
  • Ah, fair knight, said King Mark, let me pass, for yonder cometh after
  • me the best knight of the world, with the black bended shield. Fie, for
  • shame, said the knight, he is none of the worthy knights, and if he
  • were Sir Launcelot or Sir Tristram I should not doubt to meet the
  • better of them both. When King Mark heard him say that word, he turned
  • his horse and abode by him. And then that strong knight bare a spear to
  • Dagonet, and smote him so sore that he bare him over his horse’s tail,
  • and nigh he had broken his neck. And anon after him came Sir Brandiles,
  • and when he saw Dagonet have that fall he was passing wroth, and cried:
  • Keep thee, knight, and so they hurtled together wonder sore. But the
  • knight smote Sir Brandiles so sore that he went to the earth, horse and
  • man. Sir Uwaine came after and saw all this. Jesu, said he, yonder is a
  • strong knight. And then they feutred their spears, and this knight came
  • so eagerly that he smote down Sir Uwaine. Then came Ozana with the
  • hardy heart, and he was smitten down. Now, said Sir Griflet, by my
  • counsel let us send to yonder errant-knight, and wit whether he be of
  • Arthur’s court, for as I deem it is Sir Lamorak de Galis. So they sent
  • unto him, and prayed the strange knight to tell his name, and whether
  • he were of Arthur’s court or not. As for my name they shall not wit,
  • but tell them I am a knight-errant as they are, and let them wit that I
  • am no knight of King Arthur’s court; and so the squire rode again unto
  • them and told them his answer of him. By my head, said Sir Agravaine,
  • he is one of the strongest knights that ever I saw, for he hath
  • overthrown three noble knights, and needs we must encounter with him
  • for shame. So Sir Agravaine feutred his spear, and that other was
  • ready, and smote him down over his horse to the earth. And in the same
  • wise he smote Sir Uwaine les Avoutres and also Sir Griflet. Then had he
  • served them all but Sir Dinadan, for he was behind, and Sir Mordred was
  • unarmed, and Dagonet had his harness.
  • So when this was done, this strong knight rode on his way a soft pace,
  • and King Mark rode after him, praising him mickle; but he would answer
  • no words, but sighed wonderly sore, hanging down his head, taking no
  • heed to his words. Thus they rode well a three mile English, and then
  • this knight called to him a varlet, and bade him ride until yonder fair
  • manor, and recommend me to the lady of that castle and place, and pray
  • her to send me refreshing of good meats and drinks. And if she ask thee
  • what I am, tell her that I am the knight that followeth the glatisant
  • beast: that is in English to say the questing beast; for that beast
  • wheresomever he yede he quested in the belly with such a noise as it
  • had been a thirty couple of hounds. Then the varlet went his way and
  • came to the manor, and saluted the lady, and told her from whence he
  • came. And when she understood that he came from the knight that
  • followed the questing beast: O sweet Lord Jesu, she said, when shall I
  • see that noble knight, my dear son Palomides? Alas, will he not abide
  • with me? and therewith she swooned and wept, and made passing great
  • dole. And then also soon as she might she gave the varlet all that he
  • asked. And the varlet returned unto Sir Palomides, for he was a varlet
  • of King Mark. And as soon as he came, he told the knight’s name was Sir
  • Palomides. I am well pleased, said King Mark, but hold thee still and
  • say nothing. Then they alighted and set them down and reposed them a
  • while. Anon withal King Mark fell asleep. When Sir Palomides saw him
  • sound asleep he took his horse and rode his way, and said to them: I
  • will not be in the company of a sleeping knight. And so he rode forth a
  • great pace.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How King Mark and Sir Dinadan heard Sir Palomides making
  • great sorrow and mourning for La Beale Isoud.
  • Now turn we unto Sir Dinadan, that found these seven knights passing
  • heavy. And when he wist how that they sped, as heavy was he. My lord
  • Uwaine, said Dinadan, I dare lay my head it is Sir Lamorak de Galis. I
  • promise you all I shall find him an he may be found in this country.
  • And so Sir Dinadan rode after this knight; and so did King Mark, that
  • sought him through the forest. So as King Mark rode after Sir Palomides
  • he heard the noise of a man that made great dole. Then King Mark rode
  • as nigh that noise as he might and as he durst. Then was he ware of a
  • knight that was descended off his horse, and had put off his helm, and
  • there he made a piteous complaint and a dolorous, of love.
  • Now leave we that, and talk we of Sir Dinadan, that rode to seek Sir
  • Palomides. And as he came within a forest he met with a knight, a
  • chaser of a deer. Sir, said Sir Dinadan, met ye with a knight with a
  • shield of silver and lions’ heads? Yea, fair knight, said the other,
  • with such a knight met I with but a while agone, and straight yonder
  • way he yede. Gramercy, said Sir Dinadan, for might I find the track of
  • his horse I should not fail to find that knight. Right so as Sir
  • Dinadan rode in the even late he heard a doleful noise as it were of a
  • man. Then Sir Dinadan rode toward that noise; and when he came nigh
  • that noise he alighted off his horse, and went near him on foot. Then
  • was he ware of a knight that stood under a tree, and his horse tied by
  • him, and the helm off his head; and ever that knight made a doleful
  • complaint as ever made knight. And always he made his complaint of La
  • Beale Isoud, the Queen of Cornwall, and said: Ah, fair lady, why love I
  • thee! for thou art fairest of all other, and yet showest thou never
  • love to me, nor bounty. Alas, yet must I love thee. And I may not blame
  • thee, fair lady, for mine eyes be cause of this sorrow. And yet to love
  • thee I am but a fool, for the best knight of the world loveth thee, and
  • ye him again, that is Sir Tristram de Liones. And the falsest king and
  • knight is your husband, and the most coward and full of treason, is
  • your lord, King Mark. Alas, that ever so fair a lady and peerless of
  • all other should be matched with the most villainous knight of the
  • world. All this language heard King Mark, what Sir Palomides said by
  • him; wherefore he was adread when he saw Sir Dinadan, lest he espied
  • him, that he would tell Sir Palomides that he was King Mark; and
  • therefore he withdrew him, and took his horse and rode to his men,
  • where he commanded them to abide. And so he rode as fast as he might
  • unto Camelot; and the same day he found there Amant, the knight, ready
  • that afore Arthur had appealed him of treason; and so, lightly the king
  • commanded them to do battle. And by misadventure King Mark smote Amant
  • through the body. And yet was Amant in the righteous quarrel. And right
  • so he took his horse and departed from the court for dread of Sir
  • Dinadan, that he would tell Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides what he was.
  • Then were there maidens that La Beale Isoud had sent to Sir Tristram,
  • that knew Sir Amant well.
  • CHAPTER XV. How King Mark had slain Sir Amant wrongfully to-fore King
  • Arthur, and Sir Launcelot fetched King Mark to King Arthur.
  • Then by the license of King Arthur they went to him and spake with him;
  • for while the truncheon of the spear stuck in his body he spake: Ah,
  • fair damosels, said Amant, recommend me unto La Beale Isoud, and tell
  • her that I am slain for the love of her and of Sir Tristram. And there
  • he told the damosels how cowardly King Mark had slain him, and Sir
  • Bersules, his fellow. And for that deed I appealed him of treason, and
  • here am I slain in a righteous quarrel; and all was because Sir
  • Bersules and I would not consent by treason to slay the noble knight,
  • Sir Tristram. Then the two maidens cried aloud that all the court might
  • hear it, and said: O sweet Lord Jesu, that knowest all hid things, why
  • sufferest Thou so false a traitor to vanquish and slay a true knight
  • that fought in a righteous quarrel? Then anon it was sprung to the
  • king, and the queen, and to all the lords, that it was King Mark that
  • had slain Sir Amant, and Sir Bersules afore hand; wherefore they did
  • their battle. Then was King Arthur wroth out of measure, and so were
  • all the other knights. But when Sir Tristram knew all the matter he
  • made great dole and sorrow out of measure, and wept for sorrow for the
  • loss of the noble knights, Sir Bersules and of Sir Amant.
  • When Sir Launcelot espied Sir Tristram weep he went hastily to King
  • Arthur, and said: Sir, I pray you give me leave to return again to
  • yonder false king and knight. I pray you, said King Arthur, fetch him
  • again, but I would not that ye slew him, for my worship. Then Sir
  • Launcelot armed him in all haste, and mounted upon a great horse, and
  • took a spear in his hand and rode after King Mark. And from thence a
  • three mile English Sir Launcelot over took him, and bade him: Turn
  • recreant king and knight, for whether thou wilt or not thou shalt go
  • with me to King Arthur’s court. King Mark returned and looked upon Sir
  • Launcelot, and said: Fair sir, what is your name? Wit thou well, said
  • he, my name is Sir Launcelot, and therefore defend thee. And when King
  • Mark wist that it was Sir Launcelot, and came so fast upon him with a
  • spear, he cried then aloud: I yield me to thee, Sir Launcelot,
  • honourable knight. But Sir Launcelot would not hear him, but came fast
  • upon him. King Mark saw that, and made no defence, but tumbled adown
  • out of his saddle to the earth as a sack, and there he lay still, and
  • cried Sir Launcelot mercy. Arise, recreant knight and king. I will not
  • fight, said King Mark, but whither that ye will I will go with you.
  • Alas, alas, said Sir Launcelot, that I may not give thee one buffet for
  • the love of Sir Tristram and of La Beale Isoud, and for the two knights
  • that thou hast slain traitorly. And so he mounted upon his horse and
  • brought him to King Arthur; and there King Mark alighted in that same
  • place, and threw his helm from him upon the earth, and his sword, and
  • fell flat to the earth of King Arthur’s feet, and put him in his grace
  • and mercy. So God me help, said Arthur, ye are welcome in a manner, and
  • in a manner ye are not welcome. In this manner ye are welcome, that ye
  • come hither maugre thy head, as I suppose. That is truth, said King
  • Mark, and else I had not been here, for my lord, Sir Launcelot, brought
  • me hither through his fine force, and to him am I yolden to as
  • recreant. Well, said Arthur, ye understand ye ought to do me service,
  • homage, and fealty. And never would ye do me none, but ever ye have
  • been against me, and a destroyer of my knights; now, how will ye acquit
  • you? Sir, said King Mark, right as your lordship will require me, unto
  • my power, I will make a large amends. For he was a fair speaker, and
  • false thereunder. Then for great pleasure of Sir Tristram, to make them
  • twain accorded, the king withheld King Mark as at that time, and made a
  • broken love-day between them.
  • CHAPTER XVI. How Sir Dinadan told Sir Palomides of the battle between
  • Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristam.
  • Now turn we again unto Sir Palomides, how Sir Dinadan comforted him in
  • all that he might, from his great sorrow. What knight are ye? said Sir
  • Palomides. Sir, I am a knight-errant as ye be, that hath sought you
  • long by your shield. Here is my shield, said Sir Palomides, wit ye
  • well, an ye will ought, therewith I will defend it. Nay, said Sir
  • Dinadan, I will not have ado with you but in good manner. And if ye
  • will, ye shall find me soon ready. Sir, said Sir Dinadan, whitherward
  • ride you this way? By my head, said Sir Palomides, I wot not, but as
  • fortune leadeth me. Heard ye or saw ye ought of Sir Tristram? So God me
  • help, of Sir Tristram I both heard and saw, and not for then we loved
  • not inwardly well together, yet at my mischief Sir Tristram rescued me
  • from my death; and yet, or he and I departed, by both our assents we
  • assigned a day that we should have met at the stony grave that Merlin
  • set beside Camelot, and there to have done battle together; howbeit I
  • was letted, said Sir Palomides, that I might not hold my day, the which
  • grieveth me sore; but I have a large excuse. For I was prisoner with a
  • lord, and many other more, and that shall Sir Tristram right well
  • understand, that I brake it not of fear of cowardice. And then Sir
  • Palomides told Sir Dinadan the same day that they should have met. So
  • God me help, said Sir Dinadan, that same day met Sir Launcelot and Sir
  • Tristram at the same grave of stone. And there was the most mightiest
  • battle that ever was seen in this land betwixt two knights, for they
  • fought more than two hours. And there they both bled so much blood that
  • all men marvelled that ever they might endure it. And so at the last,
  • by both their assents, they were made friends and sworn-brethren for
  • ever, and no man can judge the better knight. And now is Sir Tristram
  • made a knight of the Round Table, and he sitteth in the siege of the
  • noble knight, Sir Marhaus. By my head, said Sir Palomides, Sir Tristram
  • is far bigger than Sir Launcelot, and the hardier knight. Have ye
  • assayed them both? said Sir Dinadan. I have seen Sir Tristram fight,
  • said Sir Palomides, but never Sir Launcelot to my witting. But at the
  • fountain where Sir Launcelot lay asleep, there with one spear he smote
  • down Sir Tristram and me, said Palomides, but at that time they knew
  • not either other. Fair knight, said Sir Dinadan, as for Sir Launcelot
  • and Sir Tristram let them be, for the worst of them will not be lightly
  • matched of no knights that I know living. No, said Sir Palomides, God
  • defend, but an I had a quarrel to the better of them both I would with
  • as good a will fight with him as with you. Sir, I require you tell me
  • your name, and in good faith I shall hold you company till that we come
  • to Camelot; and there shall ye have great worship now at this great
  • tournament; for there shall be the Queen Guenever, and La Beale Isoud
  • of Cornwall. Wit you well, sir knight, for the love of La Beale Isoud I
  • will be there, and else not, but I will not have ado in King Arthur’s
  • court. Sir, said Dinadan, I shall ride with you and do you service, so
  • you will tell me your name. Sir, ye shall understand my name is Sir
  • Palomides, brother to Safere, the good and noble knight. And Sir
  • Segwarides and I, we be Saracens born, of father and mother. Sir, said
  • Sir Dinadan, I thank you much for the telling of your name. For I am
  • glad of that I know your name, and I promise you by the faith of my
  • body, ye shall not be hurt by me by my will, but rather be advanced.
  • And thereto will I help you with all my power, I promise you, doubt ye
  • not. And certainly on my life ye shall win great worship in the court
  • of King Arthur, and be right welcome. So then they dressed on their
  • helms and put on their shields, and mounted upon their horses, and took
  • the broad way towards Camelot. And then were they ware of a castle that
  • was fair and rich, and also passing strong as any was within this
  • realm.
  • CHAPTER XVII. How Sir Lamorak jousted with divers knights of the castle
  • wherein was Morgan le Fay.
  • Sir Palomides, said Dinadan, here is a castle that I know well, and
  • therein dwelleth Queen Morgan le Fay, King Arthur’s sister; and King
  • Arthur gave her this castle, the which he hath repented him sithen a
  • thousand times, for sithen King Arthur and she have been at debate and
  • strife; but this castle could he never get nor win of her by no manner
  • of engine; and ever as she might she made war on King Arthur. And all
  • dangerous knights she withholdeth with her, for to destroy all these
  • knights that King Arthur loveth. And there shall no knight pass this
  • way but he must joust with one knight, or with two, or with three. And
  • if it hap that King Arthur’s knight be beaten, he shall lose his horse
  • and his harness and all that he hath, and hard, if that he escape, but
  • that he shall be prisoner. So God me help, said Palomides, this is a
  • shameful custom, and a villainous usance for a queen to use, and namely
  • to make such war upon her own lord, that is called the Flower of
  • Chivalry that is christian or heathen; and with all my heart I would
  • destroy that shameful custom. And I will that all the world wit she
  • shall have no service of me. And if she send out any knights, as I
  • suppose she will, for to joust, they shall have both their hands full.
  • And I shall not fail you, said Sir Dinadan, unto my puissance, upon my
  • life.
  • So as they stood on horseback afore the castle, there came a knight
  • with a red shield, and two squires after him; and he came straight unto
  • Sir Palomides, the good knight, and said to him: Fair and gentle
  • knight-errant, I require thee for the love thou owest unto knighthood,
  • that ye will not have ado here with these men of this castle; for this
  • was Sir Lamorak that thus said. For I came hither to seek this deed,
  • and it is my request; and therefore I beseech you, knight, let me deal,
  • and if I be beaten revenge me. In the name of God, said Palomides, let
  • see how ye will speed, and we shall behold you. Then anon came forth a
  • knight of the castle, and proffered to joust with the Knight with the
  • Red Shield. Anon they encountered together, and he with the red shield
  • smote him so hard that he bare him over to the earth. Therewith anon
  • came another knight of the castle, and he was smitten so sore that he
  • avoided his saddle. And forthwithal came the third knight, and the
  • Knight with the Red Shield smote him to the earth. Then came Sir
  • Palomides, and besought him that he might help him to joust. Fair
  • knight, said he unto him, suffer me as at this time to have my will,
  • for an they were twenty knights I shall not doubt them. And ever there
  • were upon the walls of the castle many lords and ladies that cried and
  • said: Well have ye jousted, Knight with the Red Shield. But as soon as
  • the knight had smitten them down, his squire took their horses, and
  • avoided their saddles and bridles of the horses, and turned them into
  • the forest, and made the knights to be kept to the end of the jousts.
  • Right so came out of the castle the fourth knight, and freshly
  • proffered to joust with the Knight with the Red Shield: and he was
  • ready, and he smote him so hard that horse and man fell to the earth,
  • and the knight’s back brake with the fall, and his neck also. O Jesu,
  • said Sir Palomides, that yonder is a passing good knight, and the best
  • jouster that ever I saw. By my head, said Sir Dinadan, he is as good as
  • ever was Sir Launcelot or Sir Tristram, what knight somever he be.
  • CHAPTER XVIII. How Sir Palomides would have jousted for Sir Lamorak
  • with the knights of the castle.
  • Then forthwithal came a knight out of the castle, with a shield bended
  • with black and with white. And anon the Knight with the Red Shield and
  • he encountered so hard that he smote the knight of the castle through
  • the bended shield and through the body, and brake the horse’s back.
  • Fair knight, said Sir Palomides, ye have overmuch on hand, therefore I
  • pray you let me joust, for ye had need to be reposed. Why sir, said the
  • knight, seem ye that I am weak and feeble? and sir, methinketh ye
  • proffer me wrong, and to me shame, when I do well enough. I tell you
  • now as I told you erst; for an they were twenty knights I shall beat
  • them, and if I be beaten or slain then may ye revenge me. And if ye
  • think that I be weary, and ye have an appetite to joust with me, I
  • shall find you jousting enough. Sir, said Palomides, I said it not
  • because I would joust with you, but meseemeth that ye have overmuch on
  • hand. And therefore, an ye were gentle, said the Knight with the Red
  • Shield, ye should not proffer me shame; therefore I require you to
  • joust with me, and ye shall find that I am not weary. Sith ye require
  • me, said Sir Palomides, take keep to yourself. Then they two knights
  • came together as fast as their horses might run, and the knight smote
  • Sir Palomides sore on the shield that the spear went into his side a
  • great wound, and a perilous. And therewithal Sir Palomides avoided his
  • saddle. And that knight turned unto Sir Dinadan; and when he saw him
  • coming he cried aloud, and said: Sir, I will not have ado with you; but
  • for that he let it not, but came straight upon him. So Sir Dinadan for
  • shame put forth his spear and all to-shivered it upon the knight. But
  • he smote Sir Dinadan again so hard that he smote him clean from his
  • saddle; but their horses he would not suffer his squires to meddle
  • with, and because they were knights-errant.
  • Then he dressed him again to the castle, and jousted with seven knights
  • more, and there was none of them might withstand him, but he bare him
  • to the earth. And of these twelve knights he slew in plain jousts four.
  • And the eight knights he made them to swear on the cross of a sword
  • that they should never use the evil customs of the castle. And when he
  • had made them to swear that oath he let them pass. And ever stood the
  • lords and the ladies on the castle walls crying and saying: Knight with
  • the Red Shield, ye have marvellously well done as ever we saw knight
  • do. And therewith came a knight out of the castle unarmed, and said:
  • Knight with the Red Shield, overmuch damage hast thou done to us this
  • day, therefore return whither thou wilt, for here are no more will have
  • ado with thee; for we repent sore that ever thou camest here, for by
  • thee is fordone the old custom of this castle. And with that word he
  • turned again into the castle, and shut the gates. Then the Knight with
  • the Red Shield turned and called his squires, and so passed forth on
  • his way, and rode a great pace.
  • And when he was past Sir Palomides went to Sir Dinadan, and said: I had
  • never such a shame of one knight that ever I met; and therefore I cast
  • me to ride after him, and to be revenged with my sword, for a-horseback
  • I deem I shall get no worship of him. Sir Palomides, said Dinadan, ye
  • shall not meddle with him by my counsel, for ye shall get no worship of
  • him; and for this cause, ye have seen him this day have had overmuch to
  • do, and overmuch travailed. By almighty Jesu, said Palomides, I shall
  • never be at ease till that I have had ado with him. Sir, said Dinadan,
  • I shall give you my beholding. Well, said Palomides, then shall ye see
  • how we shall redress our mights. So they took their horses of their
  • varlets, and rode after the Knight with the Red Shield; and down in a
  • valley beside a fountain they were ware where he was alighted to repose
  • him, and had done off his helm for to drink at the well.
  • CHAPTER XIX. How Sir Lamorak jousted with Sir Palomides, and hurt him
  • grievously.
  • Then Palomides rode fast till he came nigh him. And then he said:
  • Knight, remember ye of the shame ye did to me right now at the castle,
  • therefore dress thee, for I will have ado with thee. Fair knight, said
  • he to Palomides, of me ye win no worship, for ye have seen this day
  • that I have been travailed sore. As for that, said Palomides, I will
  • not let, for wit ye well I will be revenged. Well, said the knight, I
  • may happen to endure you. And therewithal he mounted upon his horse,
  • and took a great spear in his hand ready for to joust. Nay, said
  • Palomides, I will not joust, for I am sure at jousting I get no prize.
  • Fair knight, said that knight, it would beseem a knight to joust and to
  • fight on horseback. Ye shall see what I will do, said Palomides. And
  • therewith he alighted down upon foot, and dressed his shield afore him
  • and pulled out his sword. Then the Knight with the Red Shield descended
  • down from his horse, and dressed his shield afore him, and so he drew
  • out his sword. And then they came together a soft pace, and wonderly
  • they lashed together passing thick the mountenance of an hour or ever
  • they breathed. Then they traced and traversed, and waxed wonderly
  • wroth, and either behight other death; they hewed so fast with their
  • swords that they cut in down half their swords and mails, that the bare
  • flesh in some place stood above their harness. And when Sir Palomides
  • beheld his fellow’s sword over-hylled with his blood it grieved him
  • sore: some while they foined, some while they struck as wild men. But
  • at the last Sir Palomides waxed faint, because of his first wound that
  • he had at the castle with a spear, for that wound grieved him wonderly
  • sore. Fair knight, said Palomides, meseemeth we have assayed either
  • other passing sore, and if it may please thee, I require thee of thy
  • knighthood tell me thy name. Sir, said the knight to Palomides, that is
  • me loath to do, for thou hast done me wrong and no knighthood to
  • proffer me battle, considering my great travail, but an thou wilt tell
  • me thy name I will tell thee mine. Sir, said he, wit thou well my name
  • is Palomides. Ah, sir, ye shall understand my name is Sir Lamorak de
  • Galis, son and heir unto the good knight and king, King Pellinore, and
  • Sir Tor, the good knight, is my half brother. When Sir Palomides heard
  • him say so he kneeled down and asked mercy, For outrageously have I
  • done to you this day; considering the great deeds of arms I have seen
  • you do, shamefully and unknightly I have required you to do battle. Ah,
  • Sir Palomides, said Sir Lamorak, overmuch have ye done and said to me.
  • And therewith he embraced him with his both hands, and said: Palomides,
  • the worthy knight, in all this land is no better than ye, nor more of
  • prowess, and me repenteth sore that we should fight together. So it
  • doth not me, said Sir Palomides, and yet am I sorer wounded than ye be;
  • but as for that I shall soon thereof be whole. But certainly I would
  • not for the fairest castle in this land, but if thou and I had met, for
  • I shall love you the days of my life afore all other knights except my
  • brother, Sir Safere. I say the same, said Sir Lamorak, except my
  • brother, Sir Tor. Then came Sir Dinadan, and he made great joy of Sir
  • Lamorak. Then their squires dressed both their shields and their
  • harness, and stopped their wounds. And thereby at a priory they rested
  • them all night.
  • CHAPTER XX. How it was told Sir Launcelot that Dagonet chased King
  • Mark, and how a knight overthrew him and six knights.
  • Now turn we again. When Sir Ganis and Sir Brandiles with his fellows
  • came to the court of King Arthur they told the king, Sir Launcelot, and
  • Sir Tristram, how Sir Dagonet, the fool, chased King Mark through the
  • forest, and how the strong knight smote them down all seven with one
  • spear. There was great laughing and japing at King Mark and at Sir
  • Dagonet. But all these knights could not tell what knight it was that
  • rescued King Mark. Then they asked King Mark if that he knew him, and
  • he answered and said: He named himself the Knight that followed the
  • Questing Beast, and on that name he sent one of my varlets to a place
  • where was his mother; and when she heard from whence he came she made
  • passing great dole, and discovered to my varlet his name, and said: Oh,
  • my dear son, Sir Palomides, why wilt thou not see me? And therefore,
  • sir, said King Mark, it is to understand his name is Sir Palomides, a
  • noble knight. Then were all these seven knights glad that they knew his
  • name.
  • Now turn we again, for on the morn they took their horses, both Sir
  • Lamorak, Palomides, and Dinadan, with their squires and varlets, till
  • they saw a fair castle that stood on a mountain well closed, and
  • thither they rode, and there they found a knight that hight Galahalt,
  • that was lord of that castle, and there they had great cheer and were
  • well eased. Sir Dinadan, said Sir Lamorak, what will ye do? Oh sir,
  • said Dinadan, I will to-morrow to the court of King Arthur. By my head,
  • said Sir Palomides, I will not ride these three days, for I am sore
  • hurt, and much have I bled, and therefore I will repose me here. Truly,
  • said Sir Lamorak, and I will abide here with you; and when ye ride,
  • then will I ride, unless that ye tarry over long; then will I take my
  • horse. Therefore I pray you, Sir Dinadan, abide and ride with us.
  • Faithfully, said Dinadan, I will not abide, for I have such a talent to
  • see Sir Tristram that I may not abide long from him. Ah, Dinadan, said
  • Sir Palomides, now do I understand that ye love my mortal enemy, and
  • therefore how should I trust you. Well, said Dinadan, I love my lord
  • Sir Tristram, above all other, and him will I serve and do honour. So
  • shall I, said Sir Lamorak, in all that may lie in my power.
  • So on the morn Sir Dinadan rode unto the court of King Arthur; and by
  • the way as he rode he saw where stood an errant knight, and made him
  • ready for to joust. Not so, said Dinadan, for I have no will to joust.
  • With me shall ye joust, said the knight, or that ye pass this way.
  • Whether ask ye jousts, by love or by hate? The knight answered: Wit ye
  • well I ask it for love, and not for hate. It may well be so, said Sir
  • Dinadan, but ye proffer me hard love when ye will joust with me with a
  • sharp spear. But, fair knight, said Sir Dinadan, sith ye will joust
  • with me, meet with me in the court of King Arthur, and there shall I
  • joust with you. Well, said the knight, sith ye will not joust with me,
  • I pray you tell me your name. Sir knight, said he, my name is Sir
  • Dinadan. Ah, said the knight, full well know I you for a good knight
  • and a gentle, and wit you well I love you heartily. Then shall there be
  • no jousts, said Dinadan, betwixt us. So they departed. And the same day
  • he came to Camelot, where lay King Arthur. And there he saluted the
  • king and the queen, Sir Launcelot, and Sir Tristram; and all the court
  • was glad of Sir Dinadan, for he was gentle, wise, and courteous, and a
  • good knight. And in especial, the valiant knight Sir Tristram loved Sir
  • Dinadan passing well above all other knights save Sir Launcelot.
  • Then the king asked Sir Dinadan what adventures he had seen. Sir, said
  • Dinadan, I have seen many adventures, and of some King Mark knoweth,
  • but not all. Then the king hearkened Sir Dinadan, how he told that Sir
  • Palomides and he were afore the castle of Morgan le Fay, and how Sir
  • Lamorak took the jousts afore them, and how he forjousted twelve
  • knights, and of them four he slew, and how after he smote down Sir
  • Palomides and me both. t I may not believe that, said the king, for Sir
  • Palomides is a passing good knight. That is very truth, said Sir
  • Dinadan, but yet I saw him better proved, hand for hand. And then he
  • told the king all that battle, and how Sir Palomides was more weaker,
  • and more hurt, and more lost of his blood. And without doubt, said Sir
  • Dinadan, had the battle longer lasted, Palomides had been slain. O
  • Jesu, said King Arthur, this is to me a great marvel. Sir, said
  • Tristram, marvel ye nothing thereof, for at mine advice there is not a
  • valianter knight in the world living, for I know his might. And now I
  • will say you, I was never so weary of knight but if it were Sir
  • Launcelot. And there is no knight in the world except Sir Launcelot
  • that did so well as Sir Lamorak. So God me help, said the king, I would
  • that knight, Sir Lamorak, came to this Court. Sir, said Dinadan, he
  • will be here in short space, and Sir Palomides both, but I fear that
  • Palomides may not yet travel.
  • CHAPTER XXI. How King Arthur let do cry a jousts, and how Sir Lamorak
  • came in, and overthrew Sir Gawaine and many other.
  • Then within three days after the king let make a jousting at a priory.
  • And there made them ready many knights of the Round Table, for Sir
  • Gawaine and his brethren made them ready to joust; but Tristram,
  • Launcelot, nor Dinadan, would not joust, but suffered Sir Gawaine, for
  • the love of King Arthur, with his brethren, to win the gree if they
  • might. Then on the morn they apparelled them to joust, Sir Gawaine and
  • his four brethren, and did there great deeds of arms. And Sir Ector de
  • Maris did marvellously well, but Sir Gawaine passed all that
  • fellowship; wherefore King Arthur and all the knights gave Sir Gawaine
  • the honour at the beginning.
  • Right so King Arthur was ware of a knight and two squires, the which
  • came out of a forest side, with a shield covered with leather, and then
  • he came slyly and hurtled here and there, and anon with one spear he
  • had smitten down two knights of the Round Table. Then with his hurtling
  • he lost the covering of his shield, then was the king and all other
  • ware that he bare a red shield. O Jesu, said King Arthur, see where
  • rideth a stout knight, he with the red shield. And there was noise and
  • crying Beware the Knight with the Red Shield. So within a little while
  • he had overthrown three brethren of Sir Gawaine’s. So God me help, said
  • King Arthur, meseemeth yonder is the best jouster that ever I saw. With
  • that he saw him encounter with Sir Gawaine, and he smote him down with
  • so great force that he made his horse to avoid his saddle. How now,
  • said the king, Sir Gawaine hath a fall; well were me an I knew what
  • knight he were with the red shield. I know him well, said Dinadan, but
  • as at this time ye shall not know his name. By my head, said Sir
  • Tristram, he jousted better than Sir Palomides, and if ye list to know
  • his name, wit ye well his name is Sir Lamorak de Galis.
  • As they stood thus talking, Sir Gawaine and he encountered together
  • again, and there he smote Sir Gawaine from his horse, and bruised him
  • sore. And in the sight of King Arthur he smote down twenty knights,
  • beside Sir Gawaine and his brethren. And so clearly was the prize given
  • him as a knight peerless. Then slyly and marvellously Sir Lamorak
  • withdrew him from all the fellowship into the forest side. All this
  • espied King Arthur, for his eye went never from him. Then the king, Sir
  • Launcelot, Sir Tristram, and Sir Dinadan, took their hackneys, and rode
  • straight after the good knight, Sir Lamorak de Galis, and there found
  • him. And thus said the king: Ah, fair knight, well be ye found. When he
  • saw the king he put off his helm and saluted him, and when he saw Sir
  • Tristram he alighted down off his horse and ran to him to take him by
  • the thighs, but Sir Tristram would not suffer him, but he alighted or
  • that he came, and either took other in arms, and made great joy of
  • other. The king was glad, and also was all the fellowship of the Round
  • Table, except Sir Gawaine and his brethren. And when they wist that he
  • was Sir Lamorak, they had great despite at him, and were wonderly wroth
  • with him that he had put him to dishonour that day.
  • Then Gawaine called privily in council all his brethren, and to them
  • said thus: Fair brethren, here may ye see, whom that we hate King
  • Arthur loveth, and whom that we love he hateth. And wit ye well, my
  • fair brethren, that this Sir Lamorak will never love us, because we
  • slew his father, King Pellinore, for we deemed that he slew our father,
  • King of Orkney. And for the despite of Pellinore, Sir Lamorak did us a
  • shame to our mother, therefore I will be revenged. Sir, said Sir
  • Gawaine’s brethren, let see how ye will or may be revenged, and ye
  • shall find us ready. Well, said Gawaine, hold you still and we shall
  • espy our time.
  • CHAPTER XXII. How King Arthur made King Mark to be accorded with Sir
  • Tristram, and how they departed toward Cornwall.
  • Now pass we our matter, and leave we Sir Gawaine, and speak of King
  • Arthur, that on a day said unto King Mark: Sir, I pray you give me a
  • gift that I shall ask you. Sir, said King Mark, I will give you
  • whatsomever ye desire an it be in my power. Sir, gramercy, said Arthur.
  • This I will ask you, that ye will be good lord unto Sir Tristram, for
  • he is a man of great honour; and that ye will take him with you into
  • Cornwall, and let him see his friends, and there cherish him for my
  • sake. Sir, said King Mark, I promise you by the faith of my body, and
  • by the faith that I owe to God and to you, I shall worship him for your
  • sake in all that I can or may. Sir, said Arthur, and I will forgive you
  • all the evil will that ever I ought you, an so be that you swear that
  • upon a book before me. With a good will, said King Mark; and so he
  • there sware upon a book afore him and all his knights, and therewith
  • King Mark and Sir Tristram took either other by the hands hard knit
  • together. But for all this King Mark thought falsely, as it proved
  • after, for he put Sir Tristram in prison, and cowardly would have slain
  • him.
  • Then soon after King Mark took his leave to ride into Cornwall, and Sir
  • Tristram made him ready to ride with him, whereof the most part of the
  • Round Table were wroth and heavy, and in especial Sir Launcelot, and
  • Sir Lamorak, and Sir Dinadan, were wroth out of measure For well they
  • wist King Mark would slay or destroy Sir Tristram. Alas, said Dinadan,
  • that my lord, Sir Tristram, shall depart. And Sir Tristram took such
  • sorrow that he was amazed like a fool. Alas, said Sir Launcelot unto
  • King Arthur, what have ye done, for ye shall lose the most man of
  • worship that ever came into your court. It was his own desire, said
  • Arthur, and therefore I might not do withal, for I have done all that I
  • can and made them at accord. Accord, said Sir Launcelot, fie upon that
  • accord, for ye shall hear that he shall slay Sir Tristram, or put him
  • in a prison, for he is the most coward and the villainest king and
  • knight that is now living.
  • And therewith Sir Launcelot departed, and came to King Mark, and said
  • to him thus: Sir king, wit thou well the good knight Sir Tristram shall
  • go with thee. Beware, I rede thee, of treason, for an thou mischief
  • that knight by any manner of falsehood or treason, by the faith I owe
  • to God and to the order of knighthood, I shall slay thee with mine own
  • hands. Sir Launcelot, said the king, overmuch have ye said to me, and I
  • have sworn and said over largely afore King Arthur in hearing of all
  • his knights, that I shall not slay nor betray him. It were to me
  • overmuch shame to break my promise. Ye say well, said Sir Launcelot,
  • but ye are called so false and full of treason that no man may believe
  • you. Forsooth it is known well wherefore ye came into this country, and
  • for none other cause but for to slay Sir Tristram. So with great dole
  • King Mark and Sir Tristram rode together, for it was by Sir Tristram’s
  • will and his means to go with King Mark, and all was for the intent to
  • see La Beale Isoud, for without the sight of her Sir Tristram might not
  • endure.
  • CHAPTER XXIII. How Sir Percivale was made knight of King Arthur, and
  • how a dumb maid spake, and brought him to the Round Table.
  • Now turn we again unto Sir Lamorak, and speak we of his brethren, Sir
  • Tor, which was King Pellinore’s first son and begotten of Aryes, wife
  • of the cowherd, for he was a bastard; and Sir Aglovale was his first
  • son begotten in wedlock; Sir Lamorak, Dornar, Percivale, these were his
  • sons too in wedlock. So when King Mark and Sir Tristram were departed
  • from the court there was made great dole and sorrow for the departing
  • of Sir Tristram. Then the king and his knights made no manner of joys
  • eight days after. And at the eight days’ end there came to the court a
  • knight with a young squire with him. And when this knight was unarmed,
  • he went to the king and required him to make the young squire a knight.
  • Of what lineage is he come? said King Arthur. Sir, said the knight, he
  • is the son of King Pellinore, that did you some time good service, and
  • he is a brother unto Sir Lamorak de Galis, the good knight. Well, said
  • the king, for what cause desire ye that of me that I should make him
  • knight? Wit you well, my lord the king, that this young squire is
  • brother to me as well as to Sir Lamorak, and my name is Aglavale. Sir
  • Aglavale, said Arthur, for the love of Sir Lamorak, and for his
  • father’s love, he shall be made knight to-morrow. Now tell me, said
  • Arthur, what is his name? Sir, said the knight, his name is Percivale
  • de Galis. So on the morn the king made him knight in Camelot. But the
  • king and all the knights thought it would be long or that he proved a
  • good knight.
  • Then at the dinner, when the king was set at the table, and every
  • knight after he was of prowess, the king commanded him to be set among
  • mean knights; and so was Sir Percivale set as the king commanded. Then
  • was there a maiden in the queen’s court that was come of high blood,
  • and she was dumb and never spake word. Right so she came straight into
  • the hall, and went unto Sir Percivale, and took him by the hand and
  • said aloud, that the king and all the knights might hear it: Arise, Sir
  • Percivale, the noble knight and God’s knight, and go with me; and so he
  • did. And there she brought him to the right side of the Siege Perilous,
  • and said, Fair knight, take here thy siege, for that siege appertaineth
  • to thee and to none other. Right so she departed and asked a priest.
  • And as she was confessed and houselled then she died. Then the king and
  • all the court made great joy of Sir Percivale.
  • CHAPTER XXIV. How Sir Lamorak visited King Lot’s wife, and how Sir
  • Gaheris slew her which was his own mother.
  • Now turn we unto Sir Lamorak, that much was there praised. Then, by the
  • mean of Sir Gawaine and his brethren, they sent for their mother there
  • besides, fast by a castle beside Camelot; and all was to that intent to
  • slay Sir Lamorak. The Queen of Orkney was there but a while, but Sir
  • Lamorak wist of their being, and was full fain; and for to make an end
  • of this matter, he sent unto her, and there betwixt them was a night
  • assigned that Sir Lamorak should come to her. Thereof was ware Sir
  • Gaheris, and there he rode afore the same night, and waited upon Sir
  • Lamorak, and then he saw where he came all armed. And where Sir Lamorak
  • alighted he tied his horse to a privy postern, and so he went into a
  • parlour and unarmed him; and then he went unto the queen’s bed, and she
  • made of him passing great joy, and he of her again, for either loved
  • other passing sore. So when the knight, Sir Gaheris, saw his time, he
  • came to their bedside all armed, with his sword naked, and suddenly gat
  • his mother by the hair and struck off her head.
  • When Sir Lamorak saw the blood dash upon him all hot, the which he
  • loved passing well, wit you well he was sore abashed and dismayed of
  • that dolorous knight. And therewithal, Sir Lamorak leapt out of the bed
  • in his shirt as a knight dismayed, saying thus: Ah, Sir Gaheris, knight
  • of the Table Round, foul and evil have ye done, and to you great shame.
  • Alas, why have ye slain your mother that bare you? with more right ye
  • should have slain me. The offence hast thou done, said Gaheris,
  • notwithstanding a man is born to offer his service; but yet shouldst
  • thou beware with whom thou meddlest, for thou hast put me and my
  • brethren to a shame, and thy father slew our father; and thou to lie by
  • our mother is too much shame for us to suffer. And as for thy father,
  • King Pellinore my brother Sir Gawaine and I slew him. Ye did him the
  • more wrong, said Sir Lamorak, for my father slew not your father, it
  • was Balin le Savage: and as yet my father’s death is not revenged.
  • Leave those words, said Sir Gaheris, for an thou speak feloniously I
  • will slay thee. But because thou art naked I am ashamed to slay thee.
  • But wit thou well, in what place I may get thee I shall slay thee; and
  • now my mother is quit of thee; and withdraw thee and take thine armour,
  • that thou were gone. Sir Lamorak saw there was none other bote, but
  • fast armed him, and took his horse and rode his way making great
  • sorrow. But for the shame and dolour he would not ride to King Arthur’s
  • court, but rode another way.
  • But when it was known that Gaheris had slain his mother the king was
  • passing wroth, and commanded him to go out of his court. Wit ye well
  • Sir Gawaine was wroth that Gaheris had slain his mother and let Sir
  • Lamorak escape. And for this matter was the king passing wroth, and so
  • was Sir Launcelot, and many other knights. Sir, said Sir Launcelot,
  • here is a great mischief befallen by felony, and by forecast treason,
  • that your sister is thus shamefully slain. And I dare say that it was
  • wrought by treason, and I dare say ye shall lose that good knight, Sir
  • Lamorak the which is great pity. I wot well and am sure, an Sir
  • Tristram wist it, he would never more come within your court, the which
  • should grieve you much more and all your knights. God defend, said the
  • noble King Arthur, that I should lose Sir Lamorak or Sir Tristram, for
  • then twain of my chief knights of the Table Round were gone. Sir, said
  • Sir Launcelot, I am sure ye shall lose Sir Lamorak, for Sir Gawaine and
  • his brethren will slay him by one mean or other; for they among them
  • have concluded and sworn to slay him an ever they may see their time.
  • That shall I let, said Arthur.
  • CHAPTER XXV. How Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred met with a knight
  • fleeing, and how they both were overthrown, and of Sir Dinadan.
  • Now leave we of Sir Lamorak, and speak of Sir Gawaine’s brethren, and
  • specially of Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred. As they rode on their
  • adventures they met with a knight fleeing, sore wounded; and they asked
  • him what tidings. Fair knights, said he, here cometh a knight after me
  • that will slay me. With that came Sir Dinadan riding to them by
  • adventure, but he would promise them no help. But Sir Agravaine and Sir
  • Mordred promised him to rescue him. Therewithal came that knight
  • straight unto them, and anon he proffered to joust. That saw Sir
  • Mordred and rode to him, but he struck Mordred over his horse’s tail.
  • That saw Sir Agravaine, and straight he rode toward that knight, and
  • right so as he served Mordred so he served Agravaine, and said to them:
  • Sirs, wit ye well both that I am Breuse Saunce Pité, that hath done
  • this to you. And yet he rode over Agravaine five or six times. When
  • Dinadan saw this, he must needs joust with him for shame. And so
  • Dinadan and he encountered together, that with pure strength Sir
  • Dinadan smote him over his horse’s tail Then he took his horse and
  • fled, for he was on foot one of the valiantest knights in Arthur’s
  • days, and a great destroyer of all good knights.
  • Then rode Sir Dinadan unto Sir Mordred and unto Sir Agravaine. Sir
  • knight, said they all, well have ye done, and well have ye revenged us,
  • wherefore we pray you tell us your name. Fair sirs, ye ought to know my
  • name, the which is called Sir Dinadan. When they understood that it was
  • Dinadan they were more wroth than they were before, for they hated him
  • out of measure because of Sir Lamorak. For Dinadan had such a custom
  • that he loved all good knights that were valiant, and he hated all
  • those that were destroyers of good knights. And there were none that
  • hated Dinadan but those that ever were called murderers. Then spake the
  • hurt knight that Breuse Saunce Pité had chased, his name was Dalan, and
  • said: If thou be Dinadan thou slewest my father. It may well be so,
  • said Dinadan, but then it was in my defence and at his request. By my
  • head, said Dalan, thou shalt die therefore, and therewith he dressed
  • his spear and his shield. And to make the shorter tale, Sir Dinadan
  • smote him down off his horse, that his neck was nigh broken. And in the
  • same wise he smote Sir Mordred and Sir Agravaine. And after, in the
  • quest of the Sangreal, cowardly and feloniously they slew Dinadan, the
  • which was great damage, for he was a great bourder and a passing good
  • knight.
  • And so Sir Dinadan rode to a castle that hight Beale-Valet. And there
  • he found Sir Palomides that was not yet whole of the wound that Sir
  • Lamorak gave him. And there Dinadan told Palomides all the tidings that
  • he heard and saw of Sir Tristram, and how he was gone with King Mark,
  • and with him he hath all his will and desire. Therewith Sir Palomides
  • waxed wroth, for he loved La Beale Isoud. And then he wist well that
  • Sir Tristram enjoyed her.
  • CHAPTER XXVI. How King Arthur, the Queen, and Launcelot received
  • letters out of Cornwall, and of the answer again.
  • Now leave we Sir Palomides and Sir Dinadan in the Castle of
  • Beale-Valet, and turn we again unto King Arthur. There came a knight
  • out of Cornwall, his name was Fergus, a fellow of the Round Table. And
  • there he told the king and Sir Launcelot good tidings of Sir Tristram,
  • and there were brought goodly letters, and how he left him in the
  • castle of Tintagil. Then came the damosel that brought goodly letters
  • unto King Arthur and unto Sir Launcelot, and there she had passing good
  • cheer of the king, and of the Queen Guenever, and of Sir Launcelot.
  • Then they wrote goodly letters again. But Sir Launcelot bade ever Sir
  • Tristram beware of King Mark, for ever he called him in his letters
  • King Fox, as who saith, he fareth all with wiles and treason. Whereof
  • Sir Tristram in his heart thanked Sir Launcelot. Then the damosel went
  • unto La Beale Isoud, and bare her letters from the king and from Sir
  • Launcelot, whereof she was in passing great joy. Fair damosel, said La
  • Beale Isoud, how fareth my Lord Arthur, and the Queen Guenever, and the
  • noble knight, Sir Launcelot? She answered, and to make short tale: Much
  • the better that ye and Sir Tristram be in joy. God reward them, said La
  • Beale Isoud, for Sir Tristram suffereth great pain for me, and I for
  • him.
  • So the damosel departed, and brought letters to King Mark. And when he
  • had read them, and understood them, he was wroth with Sir Tristram, for
  • he deemed that he had sent the damosel unto King Arthur. For Arthur and
  • Launcelot in a manner threated King Mark. And as King Mark read these
  • letters he deemed treason by Sir Tristram. Damosel, said King Mark,
  • will ye ride again and bear letters from me unto King Arthur? Sir, she
  • said, I will be at your commandment to ride when ye will. Ye say well,
  • said the king; come again, said the king, to-morn, and fetch your
  • letters. Then she departed and told them how she should ride again with
  • letters unto Arthur. Then we pray you, said La Beale Isoud and Sir
  • Tristram, that when ye have received your letters, that ye would come
  • by us that we may see the privity of your letters. All that I may do,
  • madam, ye wot well I must do for Sir Tristram, for I have been long his
  • own maiden.
  • So on the morn the damosel went to King Mark to have had his letters
  • and to depart. I am not avised, said King Mark, as at this time to send
  • my letters. Then privily and secretly he sent letters unto King Arthur,
  • and unto Queen Guenever, and unto Sir Launcelot. So the varlet
  • departed, and found the king and the queen in Wales, at Carlion. And as
  • the king and the queen were at mass the varlet came with the letters.
  • And when mass was done the king and the queen opened the letters
  • privily by themself. And the beginning of the king’s letters spake
  • wonderly short unto King Arthur, and bade him entermete with himself
  • and with his wife, and of his knights; for he was able enough to rule
  • and keep his wife.
  • CHAPTER XXVII. How Sir Launcelot was wroth with the letter that he
  • received from King Mark, and of Dinadan which made a lay of King Mark.
  • When King Arthur understood the letter, he mused of many things, and
  • thought on his sister’s words, Queen Morgan le Fay, that she had said
  • betwixt Queen Guenever and Sir Launcelot. And in this thought he
  • studied a great while. Then he bethought him again how his sister was
  • his own enemy, and that she hated the queen and Sir Launcelot, and so
  • he put all that out of his thought. Then King Arthur read the letter
  • again, and the latter clause said that King Mark took Sir Tristram for
  • his mortal enemy; wherefore he put Arthur out of doubt he would be
  • revenged of Sir Tristram. Then was King Arthur wroth with King Mark.
  • And when Queen Guenever read her letter and understood it, she was
  • wroth out of measure, for the letter spake shame by her and by Sir
  • Launcelot. And so privily she sent the letter unto Sir Launcelot. And
  • when he wist the intent of the letter he was so wroth that he laid him
  • down on his bed to sleep, whereof Sir Dinadan was ware, for it was his
  • manner to be privy with all good knights. And as Sir Launcelot slept he
  • stole the letter out of his hand, and read it word by word. And then he
  • made great sorrow for anger. And so Sir Launcelot awaked, and went to a
  • window, and read the letter again, the which made him angry.
  • Sir, said Dinadan, wherefore be ye angry? discover your heart to me:
  • forsooth ye wot well I owe you good will, howbeit I am a poor knight
  • and a servitor unto you and to all good knights. For though I be not of
  • worship myself I love all those that be of worship. It is truth, said
  • Sir Launcelot, ye are a trusty knight, and for great trust I will shew
  • you my counsel. And when Dinadan understood all, he said: This is my
  • counsel: set you right nought by these threats, for King Mark is so
  • villainous, that by fair speech shall never man get of him. But ye
  • shall see what I shall do; I will make a lay for him, and when it is
  • made I shall make an harper to sing it afore him. So anon he went and
  • made it, and taught it an harper that hight Eliot. And when he could
  • it, he taught it to many harpers. And so by the will of Sir Launcelot,
  • and of Arthur, the harpers went straight into Wales, and into Cornwall,
  • to sing the lay that Sir Dinadan made by King Mark, the which was the
  • worst lay that ever harper sang with harp or with any other
  • instruments.
  • CHAPTER XXVIII. How Sir Tristram was hurt, and of a war made to King
  • Mark; and of Sir Tristram how he promised to rescue him.
  • Now turn we again unto Sir Tristram and to King Mark. As Sir Tristram
  • was at jousts and at tournament it fortuned he was sore hurt both with
  • a spear and with a sword, but yet he won always the degree. And for to
  • repose him he went to a good knight that dwelled in Cornwall, in a
  • castle, whose name was Sir Dinas le Seneschal. Then by misfortune there
  • came out of Sessoin a great number of men of arms, and an hideous host,
  • and they entered nigh the Castle of Tintagil; and their captain’s name
  • was Elias, a good man of arms. When King Mark understood his enemies
  • were entered into his land he made great dole and sorrow, for in no
  • wise by his will King Mark would not send for Sir Tristram, for he
  • hated him deadly.
  • So when his council was come they devised and cast many perils of the
  • strength of their enemies. And then they concluded all at once, and
  • said thus unto King Mark: Sir, wit ye well ye must send for Sir
  • Tristram, the good knight, or else they will never be overcome. For by
  • Sir Tristram they must be foughten withal, or else we row against the
  • stream. Well, said King Mark, I will do by your counsel; but yet he was
  • full loath thereto, but need constrained him to send for him. Then was
  • he sent for in all haste that might be, that he should come to King
  • Mark. And when he understood that King Mark had sent for him, he
  • mounted upon a soft ambler and rode to King Mark. And when he was come
  • the king said thus: Fair nephew Sir Tristram, this is all. Here be come
  • our enemies of Sessoin, that are here nigh hand, and without tarrying
  • they must be met with shortly, or else they will destroy this country.
  • Sir, said Sir Tristram, wit ye well all my power is at your
  • commandment. And wit ye well, sir, these eight days I may bear none
  • arms, for my wounds be not yet whole. And by that day I shall do what I
  • may. Ye say well, said King Mark; then go ye again and repose you and
  • make you fresh, and I shall go and meet the Sessoins with all my power.
  • So the king departed unto Tintagil, and Sir Tristram went to repose
  • him. And the king made a great host and departed them in three; the
  • first part led Sir Dinas the Seneschal, and Sir Andred led the second
  • part, and Sir Argius led the third part; and he was of the blood of
  • King Mark. And the Sessoins had three great battles, and many good men
  • of arms. And so King Mark by the advice of his knights issued out of
  • the Castle of Tintagil upon his enemies. And Dinas, the good knight,
  • rode out afore, and slew two knights with his own hands, and then began
  • the battles. And there was marvellous breaking of spears and smiting of
  • swords, and slew down many good knights. And ever was Sir Dinas the
  • Seneschal the best of King Mark’s party. And thus the battle endured
  • long with great mortality. But at the last King Mark and Sir Dinas,
  • were they never so loath, they withdrew them to the Castle of Tintagil
  • with great slaughter of people; and the Sessoins followed on fast, that
  • ten of them were put within the gates and four slain with the
  • portcullis.
  • Then King Mark sent for Sir Tristram by a varlet, that told him all the
  • mortality. Then he sent the varlet again, and bade him: Tell King Mark
  • that I will come as soon as I am whole, for erst I may do him no good.
  • Then King Mark had his answer. Therewith came Elias and bade the king
  • yield up the castle: For ye may not hold it no while. Sir Elias, said
  • the king, so will I yield up the castle if I be not soon rescued. Anon
  • King Mark sent again for rescue to Sir Tristram. By then Sir Tristram
  • was whole, and he had gotten him ten good knights of Arthur’s; and with
  • them he rode unto Tintagil. And when he saw the great host of Sessoins
  • he marvelled wonder greatly. And then Sir Tristram rode by the woods
  • and by the ditches as secretly as he might, till he came nigh the
  • gates. And there dressed a knight to him when he saw that Sir Tristram
  • would enter; and Sir Tristram smote him down dead, and so he served
  • three more. And everych of these ten knights slew a man of arms. So Sir
  • Tristram entered into the Castle of Tintagil. And when King Mark wist
  • that Sir Tristram was come he was glad of his coming, and so was all
  • the fellowship, and of him they made great joy.
  • CHAPTER XXIX. How Sir Tristram overcame the battle, and how Elias
  • desired a man to fight body for body.
  • So on the morn Elias the captain came, and bade King Mark: Come out and
  • do battle; for now the good knight Sir Tristram is entered it will be
  • shame to thee, said Elias, for to keep thy walls. When King Mark
  • understood this he was wroth and said no word, but went unto Sir
  • Tristram and asked him his counsel. Sir, said Sir Tristram, will ye
  • that I give him his answer? I will well, said King Mark. Then Sir
  • Tristram said thus to the messenger: Bear thy lord word from the king
  • and me, that we will do battle with him to-morn in the plain field.
  • What is your name? said the messenger. Wit thou well my name is Sir
  • Tristram de Liones. Therewithal the messenger departed and told his
  • lord Elias all that he had heard. Sir, said Sir Tristram unto King
  • Mark, I pray you give me leave to have the rule of the battle. I pray
  • you take the rule, said King Mark. Then Sir Tristram let devise the
  • battle in what manner that it should be. He let depart his host in six
  • parties, and ordained Sir Dinas the Seneschal to have the foreward, and
  • other knights to rule the remnant. And the same night Sir Tristram
  • burnt all the Sessoins’ ships unto the cold water. Anon, as Elias wist
  • that, he said it was of Sir Tristram’s doing: For he casteth that we
  • shall never escape, mother son of us. Therefore, fair fellows, fight
  • freely to-morrow, and miscomfort you nought; for any knight, though he
  • be the best knight in the world, he may not have ado with us all.
  • Then they ordained their battle in four parties, wonderly well
  • apparelled and garnished with men of arms. Thus they within issued, and
  • they without set freely upon them; and there Sir Dinas did great deeds
  • of arms. Not for then Sir Dinas and his fellowship were put to the
  • worse. With that came Sir Tristram and slew two knights with one spear;
  • then he slew on the right hand and on the left hand, that men marvelled
  • that ever he might do such deeds of arms. And then he might see
  • sometime the battle was driven a bow-draught from the castle, and
  • sometime it was at the gates of the castle. Then came Elias the captain
  • rushing here and there, and hit King Mark so sore upon the helm that he
  • made him to avoid the saddle. And then Sir Dinas gat King Mark again to
  • horseback. Therewithal came in Sir Tristram like a lion, and there he
  • met with Elias, and he smote him so sore upon the helm that he avoided
  • his saddle. And thus they fought till it was night, and for great
  • slaughter and for wounded people everych party drew to their rest.
  • And when King Mark was come within the Castle of Tintagil he lacked of
  • his knights an hundred, and they without lacked two hundred; and they
  • searched the wounded men on both parties. And then they went to
  • council; and wit you well either party were loath to fight more, so
  • that either might escape with their worship. When Elias the captain
  • understood the death of his men he made great dole; and when he wist
  • that they were loath to go to battle again he was wroth out of measure.
  • Then Elias sent word unto King Mark, in great despite, whether he would
  • find a knight that would fight for him body for body. And if that he
  • might slay King Mark’s knight, he to have the truage of Cornwall
  • yearly. And if that his knight slay mine, I fully release my claim
  • forever. Then the messenger departed unto King Mark, and told him how
  • that his lord Elias had sent him word to find a knight to do battle
  • with him body for body. When King Mark understood the messenger, he
  • bade him abide and he should have his answer. Then called he all the
  • baronage together to wit what was the best counsel. They said all at
  • once: To fight in a field we have no lust, for had not been Sir
  • Tristram’s prowess it had been likely that we never should have
  • escaped; and therefore, sir, as we deem, it were well done to find a
  • knight that would do battle with him, for he knightly proffereth.
  • CHAPTER XXI. How Sir Elias and Sir Tristram fought together for the
  • truage, and how Sir Tristram slew Elias in the field.
  • Not for then when all this was said, they could find no knight that
  • would do battle with him. Sir king, said they all, here is no knight
  • that dare fight with Elias. Alas, said King Mark, then am I utterly
  • ashamed and utterly destroyed, unless that my nephew Sir Tristram will
  • take the battle upon him. Wit you well, they said all, he had yesterday
  • overmuch on hand, and he is weary for travail, and sore wounded. Where
  • is he? said King Mark. Sir, said they, he is in his bed to repose him.
  • Alas, said King Mark, but I have the succour of my nephew Sir Tristram,
  • I am utterly destroyed for ever.
  • Therewith one went to Sir Tristram where he lay, and told him what King
  • Mark had said. And therewith Sir Tristram arose lightly, and put on him
  • a long gown, and came afore the king and all the lords. And when he saw
  • them all so dismayed he asked the king and the lords what tidings were
  • with them. Never worse, said the king. And therewith he told him all,
  • how he had word of Elias to find a knight to fight for the truage of
  • Cornwall, and none can I find. And as for you, said the king and all
  • the lords, we may ask no more of you for shame; for through your
  • hardiness yesterday ye saved all our lives. Sir, said Sir Tristram, now
  • I understand ye would have my succour, reason would that I should do
  • all that lieth in my power to do, saving my worship and my life,
  • howbeit I am sore bruised and hurt. And sithen Sir Elias proffereth so
  • largely, I shall fight with him, or else I will be slain in the field,
  • or else I will deliver Cornwall from the old truage. And therefore
  • lightly call his messenger and he shall be answered, for as yet my
  • wounds be green, and they will be sorer a seven night after than they
  • be now; and therefore he shall have his answer that I will do battle
  • to-morn with him.
  • Then was the messenger departed brought before King Mark. Hark, my
  • fellow, said Sir Tristram, go fast unto thy lord, and bid him make true
  • assurance on his part for the truage, as the king here shall make on
  • his part; and then tell thy lord, Sir Elias, that I, Sir Tristram, King
  • Arthur’s knight, and knight of the Table Round, will as to-morn meet
  • with thy lord on horseback, to do battle as long as my horse may
  • endure, and after that to do battle with him on foot to the utterance.
  • The messenger beheld Sir Tristram from the top to the toe; and
  • therewithal he departed and came to his lord, and told him how he was
  • answered of Sir Tristram. And therewithal was made hostage on both
  • parties, and made it as sure as it might be, that whether party had the
  • victory, so to end. And then were both hosts assembled on both parts of
  • the field, without the Castle of Tintagil, and there was none but Sir
  • Tristram and Sir Elias armed.
  • So when the appointment was made, they departed in-sunder, and they
  • came together with all the might that their horses might run. And
  • either knight smote other so hard that both horses and knights went to
  • the earth. Not for then they both lightly arose and dressed their
  • shields on their shoulders, with naked swords in their hands, and they
  • dashed together that it seemed a flaming fire about them. Thus they
  • traced, and traversed, and hewed on helms and hauberks, and cut away
  • many cantels of their shields, and either wounded other passing sore,
  • so that the hot blood fell freshly upon the earth. And by then they had
  • foughten the mountenance of an hour Sir Tristram waxed faint and
  • for-bled, and gave sore aback. That saw Sir Elias, and followed
  • fiercely upon him, and wounded him in many places. And ever Sir
  • Tristram traced and traversed, and went froward him here and there, and
  • covered him with his shield as he might all weakly, that all men said
  • he was overcome; for Sir Elias had given him twenty strokes against
  • one.
  • Then was there laughing of the Sessoins’ party, and great dole on King
  • Mark’s party. Alas, said the king, we are ashamed and destroyed all for
  • ever: for as the book saith, Sir Tristram was never so matched, but if
  • it were Sir Launcelot. Thus as they stood and beheld both parties, that
  • one party laughing and the other party weeping, Sir Tristram remembered
  • him of his lady, La Beale Isoud, that looked upon him, and how he was
  • likely never to come in her presence. Then he pulled up his shield that
  • erst hung full low. And then he dressed up his shield unto Elias, and
  • gave him many sad strokes, twenty against one, and all to-brake his
  • shield and his hauberk, that the hot blood ran down to the earth. Then
  • began King Mark to laugh, and all Cornish men, and that other party to
  • weep. And ever Sir Tristram said to Sir Elias: Yield thee.
  • Then when Sir Tristram saw him so staggering on the ground, he said:
  • Sir Elias, I am right sorry for thee, for thou art a passing good
  • knight as ever I met withal, except Sir Launcelot. Therewithal Sir
  • Elias fell to the earth, and there died. What shall I do, said Sir
  • Tristram unto King Mark, for this battle is at an end? Then they of
  • Elias’ party departed, and King Mark took of them many prisoners, to
  • redress the harms and the scathes that he had of them; and the remnant
  • he sent into their country to borrow out their fellows. Then was Sir
  • Tristram searched and well healed. Yet for all this King Mark would
  • fain have slain Sir Tristram. But for all that ever Sir Tristram saw or
  • heard by King Mark, yet would he never beware of his treason, but ever
  • he would be thereas La Beale Isoud was.
  • CHAPTER XXXI. How at a great feast that King Mark made an harper came
  • and sang the lay that Dinadan had made.
  • Now will we pass of this matter, and speak we of the harpers that Sir
  • Launcelot and Sir Dinadan had sent into Cornwall. And at the great
  • feast that King Mark made for joy that the Sessoins were put out of his
  • country, then came Eliot the harper with the lay that Dinadan had made
  • and secretly brought it unto Sir Tristram, and told him the lay that
  • Dinadan had made by King Mark. And when Sir Tristram heard it, he said:
  • O Lord Jesu, that Dinadan can make wonderly well and ill, thereas it
  • shall be. Sir, said Eliot, dare I sing this song afore King Mark? Yea,
  • on my peril, said Sir Tristram, for I shall be thy warrant. Then at the
  • meat came in Eliot the harper, and because he was a curious harper men
  • heard him sing the same lay that Dinadan had made, the which spake the
  • most villainy by King Mark of his treason that ever man heard.
  • When the harper had sung his song to the end King Mark was wonderly
  • wroth, and said: Thou harper, how durst thou be so bold on thy head to
  • sing this song afore me. Sir, said Eliot, wit you well I am a minstrel,
  • and I must do as I am commanded of these lords that I bear the arms of.
  • And sir, wit ye well that Sir Dinadan, a knight of the Table Round,
  • made this song, and made me to sing it afore you. Thou sayest well,
  • said King Mark, and because thou art a minstrel thou shalt go quit, but
  • I charge thee hie thee fast out of my sight. So the harper departed and
  • went to Sir Tristram, and told him how he had sped. Then Sir Tristram
  • let make letters as goodly as he could to Launcelot and to Sir Dinadan.
  • And so he let conduct the harper out of the country. But to say that
  • King Mark was wonderly wroth, he was, for he deemed that the lay that
  • was sung afore him was made by Sir Tristram’s counsel, wherefore he
  • thought to slay him and all his well-willers in that country.
  • CHAPTER XXXII. How King Mark slew by treason his brother Boudwin, for
  • good service that he had done to him.
  • Now turn we to another matter that fell between King Mark and his
  • brother, that was called the good Prince Boudwin, that all the people
  • of the country loved passing well. So it befell on a time that the
  • miscreant Saracens landed in the country of Cornwall soon after these
  • Sessoins were gone. And then the good Prince Boudwin, at the landing,
  • he raised the country privily and hastily. And or it were day he let
  • put wildfire in three of his own ships, and suddenly he pulled up the
  • sail, and with the wind he made those ships to be driven among the navy
  • of the Saracens. And to make short tale, those three ships set on fire
  • all the ships, that none were saved. And at point of the day the good
  • Prince Boudwin with all his fellowship set on the miscreants with
  • shouts and cries, and slew to the number of forty thousand, and left
  • none alive.
  • When King Mark wist this he was wonderly wroth that his brother should
  • win such worship. And because this prince was better beloved than he in
  • all that country, and that also Boudwin loved well Sir Tristram,
  • therefore he thought to slay him. And thus, hastily, as a man out of
  • his wit, he sent for Prince Boudwin and Anglides his wife, and bade
  • them bring their young son with them, that he might see him. All this
  • he did to the intent to slay the child as well as his father, for he
  • was the falsest traitor that ever was born. Alas, for his goodness and
  • for his good deeds this gentle Prince Boudwin was slain. So when he
  • came with his wife Anglides, the king made them fair semblant till they
  • had dined. And when they had dined King Mark sent for his brother and
  • said thus: Brother, how sped you when the miscreants arrived by you?
  • meseemeth it had been your part to have sent me word, that I might have
  • been at that journey, for it had been reason that I had had the honour
  • and not you. Sir, said the Prince Boudwin, it was so that an I had
  • tarried till that I had sent for you those miscreants had destroyed my
  • country. Thou liest, false traitor, said King Mark, for thou art ever
  • about for to win worship from me, and put me to dishonour, and thou
  • cherishest that I hate. And therewith he struck him to the heart with a
  • dagger, that he never after spake word. Then the Lady Anglides made
  • great dole, and swooned, for she saw her lord slain afore her face.
  • Then was there no more to do but Prince Boudwin was despoiled and
  • brought to burial. But Anglides privily gat her husband’s doublet and
  • his shirt, and that she kept secretly.
  • Then was there much sorrow and crying, and great dole made Sir
  • Tristram, Sir Dinas, Sir Fergus, and so did all knights that were
  • there; for that prince was passingly well beloved. So La Beale Isoud
  • sent unto Anglides, the Prince Boudwin’s wife, and bade her avoid
  • lightly or else her young son, Alisander le Orphelin, should be slain
  • When she heard this, she took her horse and her child; and rode with
  • such poor men as durst ride with her.
  • CHAPTER XXXIII. How Anglides, Boudwin’s wife, escaped with her young
  • son, Alisander le Orphelin, and came to the Castle of Arundel.
  • Notwithstanding, when King Mark had done this deed, yet he thought to
  • do more vengeance; and with his sword in his hand, he sought from
  • chamber to chamber, to seek Anglides and her young son. And when she
  • was missed he called a good knight that hight Sadok, and charged him by
  • pain of death to fetch Anglides again and her young son. So Sir Sadok
  • departed and rode after Anglides. And within ten mile he overtook her,
  • and bade her turn again and ride with him to King Mark. Alas, fair
  • knight, she said, what shall ye win by my son’s death or by mine? I
  • have had overmuch harm and too great a loss. Madam, said Sadok, of your
  • loss is dole and pity; but madam, said Sadok, would ye depart out of
  • this country with your son, and keep him till he be of age, that he may
  • revenge his father’s death, then would I suffer you to depart from me,
  • so you promise me to revenge the death of Prince Boudwin. Ah, gentle
  • knight, Jesu thank thee, and if ever my son, Alisander le Orphelin,
  • live to be a knight, he shall have his father’s doublet and his shirt
  • with the bloody marks, and I shall give him such a charge that he shall
  • remember it while he liveth. And therewithal Sadok departed from her,
  • and either betook other to God. And when Sadok came to King Mark he
  • told him faithfully that he had drowned young Alisander her son; and
  • thereof King Mark was full glad.
  • Now turn we unto Anglides, that rode both night and day by adventure
  • out of Cornwall, and little and in few places she rested; but ever she
  • drew southward to the seaside, till by fortune she came to a castle
  • that is called Magouns, and now it is called Arundel, in Sussex. And
  • the Constable of the castle welcomed her, and said she was welcome to
  • her own castle; and there was Anglides 2t worshipfully received, for
  • the Constable’s wife was nigh her cousin, and the Constable’s name was
  • Bellangere; and that same Constable told Anglides that the same castle
  • was hers by right inheritance. Thus Anglides endured years and winters,
  • till Alisander was big and strong; there was none so wight in all that
  • country, neither there was none that might do no manner of mastery
  • afore him.
  • CHAPTER XXXIV. How Anglides gave the bloody doublet to Alisander, her
  • son, the same day that he was made knight, and the charge withal.
  • Then upon a day Bellangere the Constable came to Anglides and said:
  • Madam, it were time my lord Alisander were made knight, for he is a
  • passing strong young man. Sir, said she, I would he were made knight;
  • but then must I give him the most charge that ever sinful mother gave
  • to her child. Do as ye list, said Bellangere, and I shall give him
  • warning that he shall be made knight. Now it will be well done that he
  • may be made knight at our Lady Day in Lent. Be it so, said Anglides,
  • and I pray you make ready therefore. So came the Constable to
  • Alisander, and told him that he should at our Lady Day in Lent be made
  • knight. I thank God, said Alisander; these are the best tidings that
  • ever came to me. Then the Constable ordained twenty of the greatest
  • gentlemen’s sons, and the best born men of the country, that should be
  • made knights that same day that Alisander was made knight. So on the
  • same day that Alisander and his twenty fellows were made knights, at
  • the offering of the mass there came Anglides unto her son and said
  • thus: O fair sweet son, I charge thee upon my blessing, and of the high
  • order of chivalry that thou takest here this day, that thou understand
  • what I shall say and charge thee withal. Therewithal she pulled out a
  • bloody doublet and a bloody shirt, that were be-bled with old blood.
  • When Alisander saw this he stert aback and waxed pale, and said: Fair
  • mother, what may this mean? I shall tell thee, fair son: this was thine
  • own father’s doublet and shirt, that he wore upon him that same day
  • that he was slain. And there she told him why and wherefore, and how
  • for his goodness King Mark slew him with his dagger afore mine own
  • eyen. And therefore this shall be your charge that I shall give thee.
  • CHAPTER XXXV. How it was told to King Mark of Sir Alisander, and how he
  • would have slain Sir Sadok for saving his life.
  • Now I require thee, and charge thee upon my blessing, and upon the high
  • order of knighthood, that thou be revenged upon King Mark for the death
  • of thy father. And therewithal she swooned. Then Alisander leapt to his
  • mother, and took her up in his arms, and said: Fair mother, ye have
  • given me a great charge, and here I promise you I shall be avenged upon
  • King Mark when that I may; and that I promise to God and to you. So
  • this feast was ended, and the Constable, by the advice of Anglides, let
  • purvey that Alisander was well horsed and harnessed. Then he jousted
  • with his twenty fellows that were made knights with him, but for to
  • make a short tale, he overthrew all those twenty, that none might
  • withstand him a buffet.
  • Then one of those knights departed unto King Mark, and told him all,
  • how Alisander was made knight, and all the charge that his mother gave
  • him, as ye have heard afore time. Alas, false treason, said King Mark,
  • I weened that young traitor had been dead. Alas, whom may I trust? And
  • therewithal King Mark took a sword in his hand; and sought Sir Sadok
  • from chamber to chamber to slay him. When Sir Sadok saw King Mark come
  • with his sword in his hand he said thus: Beware, King Mark, and come
  • not nigh me; for wit thou well that I saved Alisander his life, of
  • which I never repent me, for thou falsely and cowardly slew his father
  • Boudwin, traitorly for his good deeds; wherefore I pray Almighty Jesu
  • send Alisander might and strength to be revenged upon thee. And now
  • beware King Mark of young Alisander, for he is made a knight. Alas,
  • said King Mark, that ever I should hear a traitor say so afore me. And
  • therewith four knights of King Mark’s drew their swords to slay Sir
  • Sadok, but anon Sir Sadok slew them all in King Mark’s presence. And
  • then Sir Sadok passed forth into his chamber, and took his horse and
  • his harness, and rode on his way a good pace. For there was neither Sir
  • Tristram, neither Sir Dinas, nor Sir Fergus, that would Sir Sadok any
  • evil will. Then was King Mark wroth, and thought to destroy Sir
  • Alisander and Sir Sadok that had saved him; for King Mark dreaded and
  • hated Alisander most of any man living.
  • When Sir Tristram understood that Alisander was made knight, anon
  • forthwithal he sent him a letter, praying him and charging him that he
  • would draw him to the court of King Arthur, and that he put him in the
  • rule and in the hands of Sir Launcelot. So this letter was sent to
  • Alisander from his cousin, Sir Tristram. And at that time he thought to
  • do after his commandment. Then King Mark called a knight that brought
  • him the tidings from Alisander, and bade him abide still in that
  • country. Sir, said that knight, so must I do, for in my own country I
  • dare not come. No force, said King Mark, I shall give thee here double
  • as much lands as ever thou hadst of thine own. But within short space
  • Sir Sadok met with that false knight, and slew him. Then was King Mark
  • wood wroth out of measure. Then he sent unto Queen Morgan le Fay, and
  • to the Queen of North-galis, praying them in his letters that they two
  • sorceresses would set all the country in fire with ladies that were
  • enchantresses, and by such that were dangerous knights, as Malgrin,
  • Breuse Saunce Pité, that by no mean Alisander le Orphelin should
  • escape, but either he should be taken or slain. This ordinance made
  • King Mark for to destroy Alisander.
  • CHAPTER XXXVI. How Sir Alisander won the prize at a tournament, and of
  • Morgan le Fay: and how he fought with Sir Malgrin, and slew him.
  • Now turn we again unto Sir Alisander, that at his departing his mother
  • took with him his father’s bloody shirt. So that he bare with him
  • always till his death day, in tokening to think of his father’s death.
  • So was Alisander purposed to ride to London, by the counsel of Sir
  • Tristram, to Sir Launcelot. And by fortune he went by the seaside, and
  • rode wrong. And there he won at a tournament the gree that King Carados
  • made. And there he smote down King Carados and twenty of his knights,
  • and also Sir Safere, a good knight that was Sir Palomides’ brother, the
  • good knight. All this saw a damosel, and saw the best knight joust that
  • ever she saw. And ever as he smote down knights he made them to swear
  • to wear none harness in a twelvemonth and a day. This is well said,
  • said Morgan le Fay, this is the knight that I would fain see. And so
  • she took her palfrey, and rode a great while, and then she rested her
  • in her pavilion. So there came four knights, two were armed, and two
  • were unarmed, and they told Morgan le Fay their names: the first was
  • Elias de Gomeret, the second was Cari de Gomeret, those were armed;
  • that other twain were of Camiliard, cousins unto Queen Guenever, and
  • that one hight Guy, and that other hight Garaunt, those were unarmed.
  • There these four knights told Morgan le Fay how a young knight had
  • smitten them down before a castle For the maiden of that castle said
  • that he was but late made knight, and young. But as we suppose, but if
  • it were Sir Tristram, or Sir Launcelot, or Sir Lamorak, the good
  • knight, there is none that might sit him a buffet with a spear. Well,
  • said Morgan le Fay, I shall meet that knight or it be long time, an he
  • dwell in that country.
  • So turn we to the damosel of the castle, that when Alisander le
  • Orphelin had forjousted the four knights, she called him to her, and
  • said thus: Sir knight, wilt thou for my sake joust and fight with a
  • knight, for my sake, of this country, that is and hath been long time
  • an evil neighbour to me? His name is Malgrin, and he will not suffer me
  • to be married in no manner wise for all that I can do, or any knight
  • for my sake. Damosel, said Alisander, an he come whiles I am here I
  • will fight with him, and my poor body for your sake I will jeopard. And
  • therewithal she sent for him, for he was at her commandment. And when
  • either had a sight of other, they made them ready for to joust, and
  • they came together eagerly, and Malgrin brised his spear upon
  • Alisander, and Alisander smote him again so hard that he bare him quite
  • from his saddle to the earth. But this Malgrin arose lightly, and
  • dressed his shield and drew his sword, and bade him alight, saying:
  • Though thou have the better of me on horseback, thou shalt find that I
  • shall endure like a knight on foot. It is well said, said Alisander;
  • and so lightly he avoided his horse and betook him to his varlet. And
  • then they rushed together like two boars, and laid on their helms and
  • shields long time, by the space of three hours, that never man could
  • say which was the better knight.
  • And in the meanwhile came Morgan le Fay to the damosel of the castle,
  • and they beheld the battle. But this Malgrin was an old roted knight,
  • and he was called one of the dangerous knights of the world to do
  • battle on foot, but on horseback there were many better. And ever this
  • Malgrin awaited to slay Alisander, and so wounded him wonderly sore,
  • that it was marvel that ever he might stand, for he had bled so much
  • blood; for Alisander fought wildly, and not wittily. And that other was
  • a felonious knight, and awaited him, and smote him sore. And sometime
  • they rushed together with their shields, like two boars or rams, and
  • fell grovelling both to the earth. Now knight, said Malgrin, hold thy
  • hand a while, and tell me what thou art. I will not, said Alisander,
  • but if me list: but tell me thy name, and why thou keepest this
  • country, or else thou shalt die of my hands. Wit thou well, said
  • Malgrin, that for this maiden’s love, of this castle, I have slain ten
  • good knights by mishap; and by outrage and orgulité of myself I have
  • slain ten other knights. So God me help, said Alisander, this is the
  • foulest confession that ever I heard knight make, nor never heard I
  • speak of other men of such a shameful confession; wherefore it were
  • great pity and great shame unto me that I should let thee live any
  • longer; therefore keep thee as well as ever thou mayest, for as I am
  • true knight, either thou shalt slay me or else I shall slay thee, I
  • promise thee faithfully.
  • Then they lashed together fiercely, and at the last Alisander smote
  • Malgrin to the earth. And then he raced off his helm, and smote off his
  • head lightly. And when he had done and ended this battle, anon he
  • called to him his varlet, the which brought him his horse. And then he,
  • weening to be strong enough, would have mounted. And so she laid Sir
  • Alisander in an horse litter, and led him into the castle, for he had
  • no foot nor might to stand upon the earth; for he had sixteen great
  • wounds, and in especial one of them was like to be his death.
  • CHAPTER XXXVII. How Queen Morgan le Fay had Alisander in her castle,
  • and how she healed his wounds.
  • Then Queen Morgan le Fay searched his wounds, and gave such an ointment
  • unto him that he should have died. And on the morn when she came to him
  • he complained him sore; and then she put other ointments upon him, and
  • then he was out of his pain. Then came the damosel of the castle, and
  • said unto Morgan le Fay: I pray you help me that this knight might wed
  • me, for he hath won me with his hands. Ye shall see, said Morgan le
  • Fay, what I shall say. Then Morgan le Fay went unto Alisander, and bade
  • in anywise that he should refuse this lady, an she desire to wed you,
  • for she is not for you. So the damosel came and desired of him
  • marriage. Damosel, said Orphelin, I thank you, but as yet I cast me not
  • to marry in this country. Sir, she said, sithen ye will not marry me, I
  • pray you insomuch as ye have won me, that ye will give me to a knight
  • of this country that hath been my friend, and loved me many years. With
  • all my heart, said Alisander, I will assent thereto. Then was the
  • knight sent for, his name was Gerine le Grose. And anon he made them
  • handfast, and wedded them.
  • Then came Queen Morgan le Fay to Alisander, and bade him arise, and put
  • him in an horse litter, and gave him such a drink that in three days
  • and three nights he waked never, but slept; and so she brought him to
  • her own castle that at that time was called La Beale Regard. Then
  • Morgan le Fay came to Alisander, and asked him if he would fain be
  • whole. Who would be sick, said Alisander, an he might be whole? Well,
  • said Morgan le Fay, then shall ye promise me by your knighthood that
  • this day twelvemonth and a day ye shall not pass the compass of this
  • castle, and without doubt ye shall lightly be whole. I assent, said Sir
  • Alisander. And there he made her a promise: then was he soon whole. And
  • when Alisander was whole, then he repented him of his oath, for he
  • might not be revenged upon King Mark. Right so there came a damosel
  • that was cousin to the Earl of Pase, and she was cousin to Morgan le
  • Fay. And by right that castle of La Beale Regard should have been hers
  • by true inheritance. So this damosel entered into this castle where lay
  • Alisander, and there she found him upon his bed, passing heavy and all
  • sad.
  • CHAPTER XXXVIII. How Alisander was delivered from Queen Morgan le Fay
  • by the means of a damosel.
  • Sir knight, said the damosel, an ye would be merry I could tell you
  • good tidings. Well were me, said Alisander, an I might hear of good
  • tidings, for now I stand as a prisoner by my promise. Sir, she said,
  • wit you well that ye be a prisoner, and worse than ye ween; for my
  • lady, my cousin Queen Morgan le Fay, keepeth you here for none other
  • intent but for to do her pleasure with you when it liketh her. O Jesu
  • defend me, said Alisander, from such pleasure; for I had liefer cut
  • away my hangers than I would do her such pleasure. As Jesu help me,
  • said the damosel, an ye would love me and be ruled by me, I shall make
  • your deliverance with your worship. Tell me, said Alisander, by what
  • means, and ye shall have my love. Fair knight, said she, this castle of
  • right ought to be mine, and I have an uncle the which is a mighty earl,
  • he is Earl of Pase, and of all folks he hateth most Morgan le Fay; and
  • I shall send unto him and pray him for my sake to destroy this castle
  • for the evil customs that be used therein; and then will he come and
  • set wild-fire on every part of the castle, and I shall get you out at a
  • privy postern, and there shall ye have your horse and your harness. Ye
  • say well, damosel, said Alisander. And then she said: Ye may keep the
  • room of this castle this twelvemonth and a day, then break ye not your
  • oath. Truly, fair damosel, said Alisander, ye say sooth. And then he
  • kissed her, and did to her pleasaunce as it pleased them both at times
  • and leisures.
  • So anon she sent unto her uncle and bade him come and destroy that
  • castle, for as the book saith, he would have destroyed that castle
  • afore time had not that damosel been. When the earl understood her
  • letters he sent her word again that on such a day he would come and
  • destroy that castle. So when that day came she showed Alisander a
  • postern wherethrough he should flee into a garden, and there he should
  • find his armour and his horse. When the day came that was set, thither
  • came the Earl of Pase with four hundred knights, and set on fire all
  • the parts of the castle, that or they ceased they left not a stone
  • standing. And all this while that the fire was in the castle he abode
  • in the garden. And when the fire was done he let make a cry that he
  • would keep that piece of earth thereas the castle of La Beale Regard
  • was a twelvemonth and a day, from all manner knights that would come
  • So it happed there was a duke that hight Ansirus, and he was of the kin
  • of Sir Launcelot. And this knight was a great pilgrim, for every third
  • year he would be at Jerusalem. And because he used all his life to go
  • in pilgrimage men called him Duke Ansirus the Pilgrim. And this duke
  • had a daughter that hight Alice, that was a passing fair woman, and
  • because of her father she was called Alice la Beale Pilgrim. And anon
  • as she heard of this cry she went unto Arthur’s court, and said openly
  • in hearing of many knights, that what knight may overcome that knight
  • that keepeth that piece of earth shall have me and all my lands.
  • When the knights of the Round Table heard her say thus many were glad,
  • for she was passing fair and of great rents. Right so she let cry in
  • castles and towns as fast on her side as Alisander did on his side.
  • Then she dressed her pavilion straight by the piece of the earth that
  • Alisander kept. So she was not so soon there but there came a knight of
  • Arthur’s court that hight Sagramore le Desirous, and he proffered to
  • joust with Alisander; and they encountered, and Sagramore le Desirous
  • brised his spear upon Sir Alisander, but Sir Alisander smote him so
  • hard that he avoided his saddle. And when La Beale Alice saw him joust
  • so well, she thought him a passing goodly knight on horseback. And then
  • she leapt out of her pavilion, and took Sir Alisander by the bridle,
  • and thus she said: Fair knight, I require thee of thy knighthood show
  • me thy visage. I dare well, said Alisander, show my visage. And then he
  • put off his helm; and she saw his visage, she said: O sweet Jesu, thee
  • I must love, and never other. Then show me your visage, said he.
  • CHAPTER XXXIX. How Alisander met with Alice la Beale Pilgrim, and how
  • he jousted with two knights; and after of him and of Sir Mordred.
  • Then she unwimpled her visage. And when he saw her he said: Here have I
  • found my love and my lady. Truly, fair lady, said he, I promise you to
  • be your knight, and none other that beareth the life. Now, gentle
  • knight, said she, tell me your name. My name is, said he, Alisander le
  • Orphelin. Now, damosel, tell me your name, said he. My name is, said
  • she, Alice la Beale Pilgrim. And when we be more at our heart’s ease,
  • both ye and I shall tell other of what blood we be come. So there was
  • great love betwixt them. And as they thus talked there came a knight
  • that hight Harsouse le Berbuse, and asked part of Sir Alisander’s
  • spears. Then Sir Alisander encountered with him, and at the first Sir
  • Alisander smote him over his horse’s croup. And then there came another
  • knight that hight Sir Hewgon, and Sir Alisander smote him down as he
  • did that other. Then Sir Hewgon proffered to do battle on foot. Sir
  • Alisander overcame him with three strokes, and there would have slain
  • him had he not yielded him. So then Alisander made both those knights
  • to swear to wear none armour in a twelvemonth and a day.
  • Then Sir Alisander alighted down, and went to rest him and repose him.
  • Then the damosel that helped Sir Alisander out of the castle, in her
  • play told Alice all together how he was prisoner in the castle of La
  • Beale Regard, and there she told her how she got him out of prison.
  • Sir, said Alice la Beale Pilgrim, meseemeth ye are much beholding to
  • this maiden. That is truth, said Sir Alisander. And there Alice told
  • him of what blood she was come. Sir, wit ye well, she said, that I am
  • of the blood of King Ban, that was father unto Sir Launcelot. Y-wis,
  • fair lady, said Alisander, my mother told me that my father was brother
  • unto a king, and I nigh cousin unto Sir Tristram.
  • Then this while came there three knights, that one hight Vains, and the
  • other hight Harvis de les Marches, and the third hight Perin de la
  • Montaine. And with one spear Sir Alisander smote them down all three,
  • and gave them such falls that they had no list to fight upon foot. So
  • he made them to swear to wear none arms in a twelvemonth. So when they
  • were departed Sir Alisander beheld his lady Alice on horseback as he
  • stood in her pavilion. And then was he so enamoured upon her that he
  • wist not whether he were on horseback or on foot.
  • Right so came the false knight Sir Mordred, and saw Sir Alisander was
  • assotted upon his lady; and therewithal he took his horse by the
  • bridle, and led him here and there, and had cast to have led him out of
  • that place to have shamed him. When the damosel that helped him out of
  • that castle saw how shamefully he was led, anon she let arm her, and
  • set a shield upon her shoulder; and therewith she mounted upon his
  • horse, and gat a naked sword in her hand, and she thrust unto Alisander
  • with all her might, and she gave him such a buffet that he thought the
  • fire flew out of his eyen. And when Alisander felt that stroke he
  • looked about him, and drew his sword And when she saw that, she fled,
  • and so did Mordred into the forest, and the damosel fled into the
  • pavilion. So when Alisander understood himself how the false knight
  • would have shamed him had not the damosel been then was he wroth with
  • himself that Sir Mordred was so escaped his hands. But then Sir
  • Alisander and Alice had good game at the damosel, how sadly she hit him
  • upon the helm.
  • Then Sir Alisander jousted thus day by day, and on foot he did many
  • battles with many knights of King Arthur’s court, and with many knights
  • strangers. Therefore to tell all the battles that he did it were
  • overmuch to rehearse, for every day within that twelvemonth he had ado
  • with one knight or with other, and some day he had ado with three or
  • with four; and there was never knight that put him to the worse. And at
  • the twelvemonth’s end he departed with his lady, Alice la Beale
  • Pilgrim. And the damosel would never go from him, and so they went into
  • their country of Benoye, and lived there in great joy.
  • CHAPTER XL. How Sir Galahalt did do cry a jousts in Surluse, and Queen
  • Guenever’s knights should joust against all that would come.
  • But as the book saith, King Mark would never stint till he had slain
  • him by treason. And by Alice he gat a child that hight Bellengerus le
  • Beuse. And by good fortune he came to the court of King Arthur, and
  • proved a passing good knight; and he revenged his father’s death, for
  • the false King Mark slew both Sir Tristram and Alisander falsely and
  • feloniously. And it happed so that Alisander had never grace nor
  • fortune to come to King Arthur’s court. For an he had come to Sir
  • Launcelot, all knights said that knew him, he was one of the strongest
  • knights that was in Arthur’s days, and great dole was made for him. So
  • let we of him pass, and turn we to another tale.
  • So it befell that Sir Galahalt, the haut prince, was lord of the
  • country of Surluse, whereof came many good knights. And this noble
  • prince was a passing good man of arms, and ever he held a noble
  • fellowship together. And then he came to Arthur’s court and told him
  • his intent, how this was his will, how he would let cry a jousts in the
  • country of Surluse, the which country was within the lands of King
  • Arthur, and there he asked leave to let cry a jousts. I will give you
  • leave, said King Arthur; but wit thou well, said King Arthur, I may not
  • be there. Sir, said Queen Guenever, please it you to give me leave to
  • be at that jousts. With right good will, said Arthur; for Sir Galahalt,
  • the haut prince, shall have you in governance. Sir, said Galahalt, I
  • will as ye will. Sir, then the queen, I will take with me [Sir
  • Launcelot] and such knights as please me best. Do as ye list, said King
  • Arthur. So anon she commanded Sir Launcelot to make him ready with such
  • knights as he thought best.
  • So in every good town and castle of this land was made a cry, that in
  • the country of Surluse Sir Galahalt should make a joust that should
  • last eight days, and how the haut prince, with the help of Queen
  • Guenever’s knights, should joust against all manner of men that would
  • come. When this cry was known, kings and princes, dukes and earls,
  • barons and noble knights, made them ready to be at that jousts. And at
  • the day of jousting there came in Sir Dinadan disguised, and did many
  • great deeds of arms.
  • CHAPTER XLI. How Sir Launcelot fought in the tournament, and how Sir
  • Palomides did arms there for a damosel.
  • Then at the request of Queen Guenever and of King Bagdemagus Sir
  • Launcelot came into the range, but he was disguised, and that was the
  • cause that few folk knew him; and there met with him Sir Ector de
  • Maris, his own brother, and either brake their spears upon other to
  • their hands. And then either gat another spear. And then Sir Launcelot
  • smote down Sir Ector de Maris, his own brother. That saw Sir Bleoberis,
  • and he smote Sir Launcelot such a buffet upon the helm that he wist not
  • well where he was. Then Sir Launcelot was wrothy and smote Sir
  • Bleoberis so sore upon the helm that his head bowed down backward. And
  • he smote eft another buffet, that he avoided his saddle; and so he rode
  • by, and thrust forth to the thickest. When the King of Northgalis saw
  • Sir Ector and Bleoberis lie on the ground then was he wroth, for they
  • came on his party against them of Surluse. So the King of Northgalis
  • ran to Sir Launcelot, and brake a spear upon him all to pieces.
  • Therewith Sir Launcelot overtook the King of Northgalis, and smote him
  • such a buffet on the helm with his sword that he made him to avoid his
  • horse; and anon the king was horsed again. So both the King Bagdemagus’
  • and the King of North-galis’ party hurled to other; and then began a
  • strong medley, but they of Northgalis were far bigger.
  • When Sir Launcelot saw his party go to the worst he thrang into the
  • thickest press with a sword in his hand; and there he smote down on the
  • right hand and on the left hand, and pulled down knights and raced off
  • their helms, that all men had wonder that ever one knight might do such
  • deeds of arms. When Sir Meliagaunce, that was son unto King Bagdemagus,
  • saw how Sir Launcelot fared he marvelled greatly. And when he
  • understood that it was he, he wist well that he was disguised for his
  • sake. Then Sir Meliagaunce prayed a knight to slay Sir Launcelot’s
  • horse, either with sword or with spear. At that time King Bagdemagus
  • met with a knight that hight Sauseise, a good knight, to whom he said:
  • Now fair Sauseise, encounter with my son Meliagaunce and give him large
  • payment, for I would he were well beaten of thy hands, that he might
  • depart out of this field. And then Sir Sauseise encountered with Sir
  • Meliagaunce, and either smote other down. And then they fought on foot,
  • and there Sauseise had won Sir Meliagaunce, had there not come rescues.
  • So then the haut prince blew to lodging, and every knight unarmed him
  • and went to the great feast.
  • Then in the meanwhile there came a damosel to the haut prince, and
  • complained that there was a knight that hight Goneries that withheld
  • her all her lands. Then the knight was there present, and cast his
  • glove to her or to any that would fight in her name. So the damosel
  • took up the glove all heavily for default of a champion. Then there
  • came a varlet to her and said: Damosel, will ye do after me? Full fain,
  • said the damosel. Then go you unto such a knight that lieth here beside
  • in an hermitage, and that followeth the Questing Beast, and pray him to
  • take the battle upon him, and anon I wot well he will grant you.
  • So anon she took her palfrey, and within a while she found that knight,
  • that was Sir Palomides. And when she required him he armed him and rode
  • with her, and made her to go to the haut prince, and to ask leave for
  • her knight to do battle. I will well, said the haut prince. Then the
  • knights were ready in the field to joust on horseback; and either gat a
  • spear in their hands, and met so fiercely together that their spears
  • all to-shivered. Then they flang out swords, and Sir Palomides smote
  • Sir Goneries down to the earth. And then he raced off his helm and
  • smote off his head. Then they went to supper, and the damosel loved
  • Palomides as paramour, but the book saith she was of his kin. So then
  • Palomides disguised himself in this manner, in his shield he bare the
  • Questing Beast, and in all his trappings. And when he was thus ready,
  • he sent to the haut prince to give him leave to joust with other
  • knights, but he was adoubted of Sir Launcelot. The haut prince sent him
  • word again that he should be welcome, and that Sir Launcelot should not
  • joust with him. Then Sir Galahalt, the haut prince, let cry what knight
  • somever he were that smote down Sir Palomides should have his damosel
  • to himself.
  • CHAPTER XLII. How Sir Galahalt and Palomides fought together, and of
  • Sir Dinadan and Sir Galahalt.
  • Here beginneth the second day. Anon as Sir Palomides came into the
  • field, Sir Galahalt, the haut prince, was at the range end, and met
  • with Sir Palomides, and he with him, with great spears. And then they
  • came so hard together that their spears all to-shivered, but Sir
  • Galahalt smote him so hard that he bare him backward over his horse,
  • but yet he lost not his stirrups. Then they drew their swords and
  • lashed together many sad strokes, that many worshipful knights left
  • their business to behold them. But at the last Sir Galahalt, the haut
  • prince, smote a stroke of might unto Palomides, sore upon the helm; but
  • the helm was so hard that the sword might not bite, but slipped and
  • smote off the head of the horse of Sir Palomides. When the haut prince
  • wist and saw the good knight fall unto the earth he was ashamed of that
  • stroke. And therewith he alighted down off his own horse, and prayed
  • the good knight, Palomides, to take that horse of his gift, and to
  • forgive him that deed. Sir, said Palomides, I thank you of your great
  • goodness, for ever of a man of worship a knight shall never have
  • disworship; and so he mounted upon that horse, and the haut prince had
  • another anon. Now, said the haut prince, I release to you that maiden,
  • for ye have won her. Ah, said Palomides, the damosel and I be at your
  • commandment.
  • So they departed, and Sir Galahalt did great deeds of arms. And right
  • so came Dinadan and encountered with Sir Galahalt, and either came to
  • other so fast with their spears that their spears brake to their hands.
  • But Dinadan had weened the haut prince had been more weary than he was.
  • And then he smote many sad strokes at the haut prince; but when Dinadan
  • saw he might not get him to the earth he said: My lord, I pray you
  • leave me, and take another. The haut prince knew not Dinadan, and left
  • goodly for his fair words. And so they departed; but soon there came
  • another and told the haut prince that it was Dinadan. Forsooth, said
  • the prince, therefore am I heavy that he is so escaped from me, for
  • with his mocks and japes now shall I never have done with him. And then
  • Galahalt rode fast after him, and bade him: Abide, Dinadan, for King
  • Arthur’s sake. Nay, said Dinadan, so God me help, we meet no more
  • together this day. Then in that wrath the haut prince met with
  • Meliagaunce, and he smote him in the throat that an he had fallen his
  • neck had broken; and with the same spear he smote down another knight.
  • Then came in they of Northgalis and many strangers, and were like to
  • have put them of Surluse to the worse, for Sir Galahalt, the haut
  • prince, had ever much in hand. So there came the good knight, Semound
  • the Valiant, with forty knights, and he beat them all aback. Then the
  • Queen Guenever and Sir Launcelot let blow to lodging, and every knight
  • unarmed him, and dressed him to the feast.
  • CHAPTER XLIII. How Sir Archade appealed Sir Palomides of treason, and
  • how Sir Palomides slew him.
  • When Palomides was unarmed he asked lodging for himself and the
  • damosel. Anon the haut prince commanded them to lodging. And he was not
  • so soon in his lodging but there came a knight that hight Archade, he
  • was brother unto Goneries that Palomides slew afore in the damosel’s
  • quarrel. And this knight, Archade, called Sir Palomides traitor, and
  • appealed him for the death of his brother. By the leave of the haut
  • prince, said Palomides, I shall answer thee. When Sir Galahalt
  • understood their quarrel he bade them go to dinner: And as soon as ye
  • have dined look that either knight be ready in the field. So when they
  • had dined they were armed both, and took their horses, and the queen,
  • and the prince, and Sir Launcelot, were set to behold them; and so they
  • let run their horses, and there Sir Palomides bare Archade on his spear
  • over his horse’s tail. And then Palomides alighted and drew his sword,
  • but Sir Archade might not arise; and there Sir Palomides raced off his
  • helm, and smote off his head. Then the haut prince and Queen Guenever
  • went unto supper. Then King Bagdemagus sent away his son Meliagaunce
  • because Sir Launcelot should not meet with him, for he hated Sir
  • Launcelot, and that knew he not.
  • CHAPTER XLIV. Of the third day, and how Sir Palomides jousted with Sir
  • Lamorak, and other things.
  • Now beginneth the third day of jousting; and at that day King
  • Bagdemagus made him ready; and there came against him King Marsil, that
  • had in gift an island of Sir Galahalt the haut prince; and this island
  • had the name Pomitain. Then it befell that King Bagdemagus and King
  • Marsil of Pomitain met together with spears, and King Marsil had such a
  • buffet that he fell over his horse’s croup. Then came there in a knight
  • of King Marsil to revenge his lord, and King Bagdemagus smote him down,
  • horse and man, to the earth. So there came an earl that hight Arrouse,
  • and Sir Breuse, and an hundred knights with them of Pomitain, and the
  • King of Northgalis was with them; and all these were against them of
  • Surluse. And then there began great battle, and many knights were cast
  • under horses’ feet. And ever King Bagdemagus did best, for he first
  • began, and ever he held on. Gaheris, Gawaine’s brother, smote ever at
  • the face of King Bagdemagus; and at the last King Bagdemagus hurtled
  • down Gaheris, horse and man.
  • Then by adventure Sir Palomides, the good knight, met with Sir Blamore
  • de Ganis, Sir Bleoberis’ brother. And either smote other with great
  • spears, that both their horses and knights fell to the earth. But Sir
  • Blamore had such a fall that he had almost broken his neck, for the
  • blood brast out at nose, mouth, and his ears, but at the last he
  • recovered well by good surgeons. Then there came in the Duke Chaleins
  • of Clarance; and in his governance there came a knight that hight Elis
  • la Noire; and there encountered with him King Bagdemagus, and he smote
  • Elis that he made him to avoid his saddle. So the Duke Chaleins of
  • Clarance did there great deeds of arms, and of so late as he came in
  • the third day there was no man did so well except King Bagdemagus and
  • Sir Palomides, that the prize was given that day to King Bagdemagus.
  • And then they blew unto lodging, and unarmed them, and went to the
  • feast. Right so came Dinadan, and mocked and japed with King Bagdemagus
  • that all knights laughed at him, for he was a fine japer, and well
  • loving all good knights.
  • So anon as they had dined there came a varlet bearing four spears on
  • his back; and he came to Palomides, and said thus: Here is a knight by
  • hath sent you the choice of four spears, and requireth you for your
  • lady’s sake to take that one half of these spears, and joust with him
  • in the field. Tell him, said Palomides, I will not fail him. When Sir
  • Galahalt wist of this, he bade Palomides make him ready. So the Queen
  • Guenever, the haut prince, and Sir Launcelot, they were set upon
  • scaffolds to give the judgment of these two knights. Then Sir Palomides
  • and the strange knight ran so eagerly together that their spears brake
  • to their hands. Anon withal either of them took a great spear in his
  • hand and all to-shivered them in pieces. And then either took a greater
  • spear, and then the knight smote down Sir Palomides, horse and man, to
  • the earth. And as he would have passed over him the strange knight’s
  • horse stumbled and fell down upon Palomides. Then they drew their
  • swords and lashed together wonderly sore a great while.
  • Then the haut prince and Sir Launcelot said they saw never two knights
  • fight better than they did; but ever the strange knight doubled his
  • strokes, and put Palomides aback; therewithal the haut prince cried:
  • Ho: and then they went to lodging. And when they were unarmed they knew
  • it was the noble knight Sir Lamorak. When Sir Launcelot knew that it
  • was Sir Lamorak he made much of him, for above all earthly men he loved
  • him best except Sir Tristram. Then Queen Guenever commended him, and so
  • did all other good knights make much of him, except Sir Gawaine’s
  • brethren. Then Queen Guenever said unto Sir Launcelot: Sir, I require
  • you that an ye joust any more, that ye joust with none of the blood of
  • my lord Arthur. So he promised he would not as at that time.
  • CHAPTER XLV. Of the fourth day, and of many great feats of arms.
  • Here beginneth the fourth day. Then came into the field the King with
  • the Hundred Knights, and all they of Northgalis, and the Duke Chaleins
  • of Clarance, and King Marsil of Pomitain, and there came Safere,
  • Palomides’ brother, and there he told him tidings of his mother. And
  • his name was called the Earl, and so he appealed him afore King Arthur:
  • For he made war upon our father and mother, and there I slew him in
  • plain battle. So they went into the field, and the damosel with them;
  • and there came to encounter again them Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, and Sir
  • Ector de Maris. Sir Palomides encountered with Sir Bleoberis, and
  • either smote other down. And in the same wise did Sir Safere and Sir
  • Ector, and the two couples did battle on foot. Then came in Sir
  • Lamorak, and he encountered with the King with the Hundred Knights, and
  • smote him quite over his horse’s tail. And in the same wise he served
  • the King of Northgalis, and also he smote down King Marsil. And so or
  • ever he stint he smote down with his spear and with his sword thirty
  • knights. When Duke Chaleins saw Lamorak do so great prowess he would
  • not meddle with him for shame; and then he charged all his knights in
  • pain of death that none of you touch him; for it were shame to all good
  • knights an that knight were shamed.
  • Then the two kings gathered them together, and all they set upon Sir
  • Lamorak; and he failed them not, but rushed here and there, smiting on
  • the right hand and on the left, and raced off many helms, so that the
  • haut prince and Queen Guenever said they saw never knight do such deeds
  • of arms on horseback. Alas, said Launcelot to King Bagdemagus, I will
  • arm me and help Sir Lamorak. And I will ride with you, said King
  • Bagdemagus. And when they two were horsed they came to Sir Lamorak that
  • stood among thirty knights; and well was him that might reach him a
  • buffet, and ever he smote again mightily. Then came there into the
  • press Sir Launcelot, and he threw down Sir Mador de la Porte. And with
  • the truncheon of that spear he threw down many knights. And King
  • Bagdemagus smote on the left hand and on the right hand marvellously
  • well. And then the three kings fled aback. Therewithal then Sir
  • Galahalt let blow to lodging, and all the heralds gave Sir Lamorak the
  • prize. And all this while fought Palomides, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Safere,
  • Sir Ector on foot; never were there four knights evener matched. And
  • then they were departed, and had unto their lodging, and unarmed them,
  • and so they went to the great feast.
  • But when Sir Lamorak was come into the court Queen Guenever took him in
  • her arms and said: Sir, well have ye done this day. Then came the haut
  • prince, and he made of him great joy, and so did Dinadan, for he wept
  • for joy; but the joy that Sir Launcelot made of Sir Lamorak there might
  • no man tell. Then they went unto rest, and on the morn the haut prince
  • let blow unto the field.
  • CHAPTER XLVI. Of the Fifth day, and how Sir Lamorak behaved him.
  • Here beginneth the fifth day. So it befell that Sir Palomides came in
  • the morntide, and proffered to joust thereas King Arthur was in a
  • castle there besides Surluse; and there encountered with him a
  • worshipful duke, and there Sir Palomides smote him over his horse’s
  • croup. And this duke was uncle unto King Arthur. Then Sir Elise’s son
  • rode unto Palomides, and Palomides served Elise in the same wise. When
  • Sir Uwaine saw this he was wroth. Then he took his horse and
  • encountered with Sir Palomides, and Palomides smote him so hard that he
  • went to the earth, horse and man. And for to make a short tale, he
  • smote down three brethren of Sir Gawaine, that is for to say Mordred,
  • Gaheris, and Agravaine. O Jesu, said Arthur, this is a great despite of
  • a Saracen that he shall smite down my blood. And therewithal King
  • Arthur was wood wroth, and thought to have made him ready to joust.
  • That espied Sir Lamorak, that Arthur and his blood were discomfit; and
  • anon he was ready, and asked Palomides if he would any more joust. Why
  • should I not? said Palomides. Then they hurtled together, and brake
  • their spears, and all to-shivered them, that all the castle rang of
  • their dints. Then either gat a greater spear in his hand, and they came
  • so fiercely together; but Sir Palomides’ spear all to-brast and Sir
  • Lamorak’s did hold. Therewithal Sir Palomides lost his stirrups and lay
  • upright on his horse’s back. And then Sir Palomides returned again and
  • took his damosel, and Sir Safere returned his way.
  • So, when he was departed, King Arthur came to Sir Lamorak and thanked
  • him of his goodness, and prayed him to tell him his name. Sir, said
  • Lamorak, wit thou well, I owe you my service, but as at this time I
  • will not abide here, for I see of mine enemies many about me. Alas,
  • said Arthur, now wot I well it is Sir Lamorak de Galis. O Lamorak,
  • abide with me, and by my crown I shall never fail thee: and not so
  • hardy in Gawaine’s head, nor none of his brethren, to do thee any
  • wrong. Sir, said Sir Lamorak, wrong have they done me, and to you both.
  • That is truth, said the king, for they slew their own mother and my
  • sister, the which me sore grieveth: it had been much fairer and better
  • that ye had wedded her, for ye are a king’s son as well as they. O
  • Jesu, said the noble knight Sir Lamorak unto Arthur, her death shall I
  • never forget. I promise you, and make mine avow unto God, I shall
  • revenge her death as soon as I see time convenable. And if it were not
  • at the reverence of your highness I should now have been revenged upon
  • Sir Gawaine and his brethren. Truly, said Arthur, I will make you at
  • accord. Sir, said Lamorak, as at this time I may not abide with you,
  • for I must to the jousts, where is Sir Launcelot, and the haut prince
  • Sir Galahalt.
  • Then there was a damosel that was daughter to King Bandes. And there
  • was a Saracen knight that hight Corsabrin, and he loved the damosel,
  • and in no wise he would suffer her to be married; for ever this
  • Corsabrin noised her, and named her that she was out of her mind; and
  • thus he let her that she might not be married.
  • CHAPTER XLVII. How Sir Palomides fought with Corsabrin for a lady, and
  • how Palomides slew Corsabrin.
  • So by fortune this damosel heard tell that Palomides did much for
  • damosels’ sake; so she sent to him a pensel, and prayed him to fight
  • with Sir Corsabrin for her love, and he should have her and her lands
  • of her father’s that should fall to her. Then the damosel sent unto
  • Corsabrin, and bade him go unto Sir Palomides that was a paynim as well
  • as he, and she gave him warning that she had sent him her pensel, and
  • if he might overcome Palomides she would wed him. When Corsabrin wist
  • of her deeds then was he wood wroth and angry, and rode unto Surluse
  • where the haut prince was, and there he found Sir Palomides ready, the
  • which had the pensel. So there they waged battle either with other
  • afore Galahalt. Well, said the haut prince, this day must noble knights
  • joust, and at-after dinner we shall see how ye can speed.
  • Then they blew to jousts; and in came Dinadan, and met with Sir Gerin,
  • a good knight, and he threw him down over his horse’s croup; and Sir
  • Dinadan overthrew four knights more; and there he did great deeds of
  • arms, for he was a good knight, but he was a scoffer and a japer, and
  • the merriest knight among fellowship that was that time living. And he
  • had such a custom that he loved every good knight, and every good
  • knight loved him again. So then when the haut prince saw Dinadan do so
  • well, he sent unto Sir Launcelot and bade him strike down Sir Dinadan:
  • And when that ye have done so bring him afore me and the noble Queen
  • Guenever. Then Sir Launcelot did as he was required. Then Sir Lamorak
  • and he smote down many knights, and raced off helms, and drove all the
  • knights afore them. And so Sir Launcelot smote down Sir Dinadan, and
  • made his men to unarm him, and so brought him to the queen and the haut
  • prince, and they laughed at Dinadan so sore that they might not stand.
  • Well, said Sir Dinadan, yet have I no shame, for the old shrew, Sir
  • Launcelot, smote me down. So they went to dinner, [and] all the court
  • had good sport at Dinadan.
  • Then when the dinner was done they blew to the field to behold Sir
  • Palomides and Corsabrin. Sir Palomides pight his pensel in midst of the
  • field; and then they hurtled together with their spears as it were
  • thunder, and either smote other to the earth. And then they pulled out
  • their swords, and dressed their shields, and lashed together mightily
  • as mighty knights, that well-nigh there was no piece of harness would
  • hold them, for this Corsabrin was a passing felonious knight.
  • Corsabrin, said Palomides, wilt thou release me yonder damosel and the
  • pensel? Then was Corsabrin wroth out of measure, and gave Palomides
  • such a buffet that he kneeled on his knee. Then Palomides arose
  • lightly, and smote him upon the helm that he fell down right to the
  • earth. And therewith he raced off his helm and said: Corsabrin, yield
  • thee or else thou shalt die of my hands. Fie on thee, said Corsabrin,
  • do thy worst. Then he smote off his head. And therewithal came a stink
  • of his body when the soul departed, that there might nobody abide the
  • savour. So was the corpse had away and buried in a wood, because he was
  • a paynim. Then they blew unto lodging, and Palomides was unarmed.
  • Then he went unto Queen Guenever, to the haut prince, and to Sir
  • Launcelot. Sir, said the haut prince, here have ye seen this day a
  • great miracle by Corsabrin, what savour there was when the soul
  • departed from the body. Therefore, sir, we will require you to take the
  • baptism upon you, and I promise you all knights will set the more by
  • you, and say more worship by you. Sir, said Palomides, I will that ye
  • all know that into this land I came to be christened, and in my heart I
  • am christened and christened will I be. But I have made such an avow
  • that I may not be christened till I have done seven true battles for
  • Jesu’s sake, and then will I be christened; and I trust God will take
  • mine intent, for I mean truly Then Sir Palomides prayed Queen Guenever
  • and the haut prince to sup with him. And so they did, both Sir
  • Launcelot and Sir Lamorak, and many other good knights. So on the morn
  • they heard their mass, and blew the field, and then knights made them
  • ready.
  • CHAPTER XLVIII. Of the sixth day, and what then was done.
  • Here beginneth the sixth day. Then came therein Sir Gaheris, and there
  • encountered with him Sir Ossaise of Surluse, and Sir Gaheris smote him
  • over his horse’s croup. And then either party encountered with other,
  • and there were many spears broken, and many knights cast under feet. So
  • there came in Sir Dornard and Sir Aglovale, that were brethren unto Sir
  • Lamorak, and they met with other two knights, and either smote other so
  • hard that all four knights and horses fell to the earth. When Sir
  • Lamorak saw his two brethren down he was wroth out of measure, and then
  • he gat a great spear in his hand, and therewithal he smote down four
  • good knights, and then his spear brake. Then he pulled out his sword,
  • and smote about him on the right hand and on the left hand, and raced
  • off helms and pulled down knights, that all men marvelled of such deeds
  • of arms as he did, for he fared so that many knights fled. Then he
  • horsed his brethren again, and said: Brethren, ye ought to be ashamed
  • to fall so off your horses! what is a knight but when he is on
  • horseback? I set not by a knight when he is on foot, for all battles on
  • foot are but pillers’ battles. For there should no knight fight on foot
  • but if it were for treason, or else he were driven thereto by force;
  • therefore, brethren, sit fast on your horses, or else fight never more
  • afore me.
  • With that came in the Duke Chaleins of Clarance, and there encountered
  • with him the Earl Ulbawes of Surluse, and either of them smote other
  • down. Then the knights of both parties horsed their lords again, for
  • Sir Ector and Bleoberis were on foot, waiting on the Duke Chaleins. And
  • the King with the Hundred Knights was with the Earl of Ulbawes. With
  • that came Gaheris and lashed to the King with the Hundred Knights, and
  • he to him again. Then came the Duke Chaleins and departed them.
  • Then they blew to lodging, and the knights unarmed them and drew them
  • to their dinner; and at the midst of their dinner in came Dinadan and
  • began to rail. Then he beheld the haut prince, that seemed wroth with
  • some fault that he saw; for he had a custom he loved no fish, and
  • because he was served with fish, the which he hated, therefore he was
  • not merry. When Sir Dinadan had espied the haut prince, he espied where
  • was a fish with a great head, and that he gat betwixt two dishes, and
  • served the haut prince with that fish. And then he said thus: Sir
  • Galahalt, well may I liken you to a wolf, for he will never eat fish,
  • but flesh; then the haut prince laughed at his words. Well, well, said
  • Dinadan to Launcelot, what devil do ye in this country, for here may no
  • mean knights win no worship for thee. Sir Dinadan, said Launcelot, I
  • ensure thee I shall no more meet with thee nor with thy great spear,
  • for I may not sit in my saddle when that spear hitteth me. And if I be
  • happy I shall beware of that boistous body that thou bearest. Well,
  • said Launcelot, make good watch ever: God forbid that ever we meet but
  • if it be at a dish of meat. Then laughed the queen and the haut prince,
  • that they might not sit at their table; thus they made great joy till
  • on the morn, and then they heard mass, and blew to field. And Queen
  • Guenever and all the estates were set, and judges armed clean with
  • their shields to keep the right.
  • CHAPTER XLIX. Of the seventh battle, and how Sir Launcelot, being
  • disguised like a maid, smote down Sir Dinadan.
  • Now beginneth the seventh battle. There came in the Duke Cambines, and
  • there encountered with him Sir Aristance, that was counted a good
  • knight, and they met so hard that either bare other down, horse and
  • man. Then came there the Earl of Lambaile and helped the duke again to
  • horse. Then came there Sir Ossaise of Surluse, and he smote the Earl
  • Lambaile down from his horse. Then began they to do great deeds of
  • arms, and many spears were broken, and many knights were cast to the
  • earth. Then the King of Northgalis and the Earl Ulbawes smote together
  • that all the judges thought it was like mortal death. This meanwhile
  • Queen Guenever, and the haut prince, and Sir Launcelot, made there Sir
  • Dinadan make him ready to joust. I would, said Dinadan, ride into the
  • field, but then one of you twain will meet with me. Per dieu, said the
  • haut prince, ye may see how we sit here as judges with our shields, and
  • always mayest thou behold whether we sit here or not.
  • So Sir Dinadan departed and took his horse, and met with many knights,
  • and did passing well. And as he was departed, Sir Launcelot disguised
  • himself, and put upon his armour a maiden’s garment freshly attired.
  • Then Sir Launcelot made Sir Galihodin to lead him through the range,
  • and all men had wonder what damosel it was. And so as Sir Dinadan came
  • into the range, Sir Launcelot, that was in the damosel’s array, gat
  • Galihodin’s spear, and ran unto Sir Dinadan. And always Sir Dinadan
  • looked up thereas Sir Launcelot was, and then he saw one sit in the
  • stead of Sir Launcelot, armed. But when Dinadan saw a manner of a
  • damosel he dread perils that it was Sir Launcelot disguised, but Sir
  • Launcelot came on him so fast that he smote him over his horse’s croup;
  • and then with great scorns they gat Sir Dinadan into the forest there
  • beside, and there they dispoiled him unto his shirt, and put upon him a
  • woman’s garment, and so brought him into the field: and so they blew
  • unto lodging. And every knight went and unarmed them. Then was Sir
  • Dinadan brought in among them all. And when Queen Guenever saw Sir
  • Dinadan brought so among them all, then she laughed that she fell down,
  • and so did all that there were. Well, said Dinadan to Launcelot, thou
  • art so false that I can never beware of thee. Then by all the assent
  • they gave Sir Launcelot the prize, the next was Sir Lamorak de Galis,
  • the third was Sir Palomides, the fourth was King Bagdemagus; so these
  • four knights had the prize, and there was great joy, and great nobley
  • in all the court.
  • And on the morn Queen Guenever and Sir Launcelot departed unto King
  • Arthur, but in no wise Sir Lamorak would not go with them. I shall
  • undertake, said Sir Launcelot, that an ye will go with us King Arthur
  • shall charge Sir Gawaine and his brethren never to do you hurt. As for
  • that, said Sir Lamorak, I will not trust Sir Gawaine nor none of his
  • brethren; and wit ye well, Sir Launcelot, an it were not for my lord
  • King Arthur’s sake, I should match Sir Gawaine and his brethren well
  • enough. But to say that I should trust them, that shall I never, and
  • therefore I pray you recommend me unto my lord Arthur, and unto all my
  • lords of the Round Table. And in what place that ever I come I shall do
  • you service to my power: and sir, it is but late that I revenged that,
  • when my lord Arthur’s kin were put to the worse by Sir Palomides. Then
  • Sir Lamorak departed from Sir Launcelot, and either wept at their
  • departing.
  • CHAPTER L. How by treason Sir Tristram was brought to a tournament for
  • to have been slain, and how he was put in prison.
  • Now turn we from this matter, and speak we of Sir Tristram, of whom
  • this book is principally of, and leave we the king and the queen, Sir
  • Launcelot, and Sir Lamorak, and here beginneth the treason of King
  • Mark, that he ordained against Sir Tristram. There was cried by the
  • coasts of Cornwall a great tournament and jousts, and all was done by
  • Sir Galahalt the haut prince and King Bagdemagus, to the intent to slay
  • Launcelot, or else utterly destroy him and shame him, because Sir
  • Launcelot had always the higher degree, therefore this prince and this
  • king made this jousts against Sir Launcelot. And thus their counsel was
  • discovered unto King Mark, whereof he was full glad.
  • Then King Mark bethought him that he would have Sir Tristram unto that
  • tournament disguised that no man should know him, to that intent that
  • the haut prince should ween that Sir Tristram were Sir Launcelot. So at
  • these jousts came in Sir Tristram. And at that time Sir Launcelot was
  • not there, but when they saw a knight disguised do such deeds of arms,
  • they weened it had been Sir Launcelot. And in especial King Mark said
  • it was Sir Launcelot plainly. Then they set upon him, both King
  • Bagdemagus, and the haut prince, and their knights, that it was wonder
  • that ever Sir Tristram might endure that pain. Notwithstanding for all
  • the pain that he had, Sir Tristram won the degree at that tournament,
  • and there he hurt many knights and bruised them, and they hurt him and
  • bruised him wonderly sore. So when the jousts were all done they knew
  • well that it was Sir Tristram de Liones; and all that were on King
  • Mark’s party were glad that Sir Tristram was hurt, and the remnant were
  • sorry of his hurt; for Sir Tristram was not so behated as was Sir
  • Launcelot within the realm of England.
  • Then came King Mark unto Sir Tristram and said: Fair nephew, I am sorry
  • of your hurts. Gramercy my lord, said Sir Tristram. Then King Mark made
  • Sir Tristram to be put in an horse bier in great sign of love, and
  • said: Fair cousin, I shall be your leech myself. And so he rode forth
  • with Sir Tristram, and brought him to a castle by daylight. And then
  • King Mark made Sir Tristram to eat. And then after he gave him a drink,
  • the which as soon as he had drunk he fell asleep. And when it was night
  • he made him to be carried to another castle, and there he put him in a
  • strong prison, and there he ordained a man and a woman to give him his
  • meat and drink. So there he was a great while.
  • Then was Sir Tristram missed, and no creature wist where he was become.
  • When La Beale Isoud heard how he was missed, privily she went unto Sir
  • Sadok, and prayed him to espy where was Sir Tristram. Then when Sadok
  • wist how Sir Tristram was missed, and anon espied that he was put in
  • prison by King Mark and the traitors of Magouns, then Sadok and two of
  • his cousins laid them in an ambushment, fast by the Castle of Tintagil,
  • in arms. And as by fortune, there came riding King Mark and four of his
  • nephews, and a certain of the traitors of Magouns. When Sir Sadok
  • espied them he brake out of the bushment, and set there upon them. And
  • when King Mark espied Sir Sadok he fled as fast as he might, and there
  • Sir Sadok slew all the four nephews unto King Mark. But these traitors
  • of Magouns slew one of Sadok’s cousins with a great wound in the neck,
  • but Sadok smote the other to the death. Then Sir Sadok rode upon his
  • way unto a castle that was called Liones, and there he espied of the
  • treason and felony of King Mark. So they of that castle rode with Sir
  • Sadok till that they came to a castle that hight Arbray, and there in
  • the town they found Sir Dinas the Seneschal, that was a good knight.
  • But when Sir Sadok had told Sir Dinas of all the treason of King Mark
  • he defied such a king, and said he would give up his lands that he held
  • of him. And when he said these words all manner knights said as Sir
  • Dinas said. Then by his advice and of Sir Sadok’s, he let stuff all the
  • towns and castles within the country of Liones, and assembled all the
  • people that they might make.
  • CHAPTER LI. How King Mark let do counterfeit letters from the Pope, and
  • how Sir Percivale delivered Sir Tristram out of prison.
  • Now turn we unto King Mark, that when he was escaped from Sir Sadok he
  • rode unto the Castle of Tintagil, and there he made great cry and
  • noise, and cried unto harness all that might bear arms. Then they
  • sought and found where were dead four cousins of King Mark’s, and the
  • traitor of Magouns. Then the king let inter them in a chapel. Then the
  • king let cry in all the country that held of him, to go unto arms, for
  • he understood to the war he must needs. When King Mark heard and
  • understood how Sir Sadok and Sir Dinas were arisen in the country of
  • Liones he remembered of wiles and treason. Lo thus he did: he let make
  • and counterfeit letters from the Pope, and did make a strange clerk to
  • bear them unto King Mark; the which letters specified that King Mark
  • should make him ready, upon pain of cursing, with his host to come to
  • the Pope, to help to go to Jerusalem, for to make war upon the
  • Saracens.
  • When this clerk was come by the mean of the king, anon withal King Mark
  • sent these letters unto Sir Tristram and bade him say thus: that an he
  • would go war upon the miscreants, he should be had out of prison, and
  • to have all his power. When Sir Tristram understood this letter, then
  • he said thus to the clerk: Ah, King Mark, ever hast thou been a
  • traitor, and ever will be; but, Clerk, said Sir Tristram, say thou thus
  • unto King Mark: Since the Apostle Pope hath sent for him, bid him go
  • thither himself; for tell him, traitor king as he is, I will not go at
  • his commandment, get I out of prison as I may, for I see I am well
  • rewarded for my true service. Then the clerk returned unto King Mark,
  • and told him of the answer of Sir Tristram. Well, said King Mark, yet
  • shall he be beguiled. So he went into his chamber, and counterfeit
  • letters; and the letters specified that the Pope desired Sir Tristram
  • to come himself, to make war upon the miscreants. When the clerk was
  • come again to Sir Tristram and took him these letters, then Sir
  • Tristram beheld these letters, and anon espied they were of King Mark’s
  • counterfeiting. Ah, said Sir Tristram, false hast thou been ever, King
  • Mark, and so wilt thou end. Then the clerk departed from Sir Tristram
  • and came to King Mark again.
  • By then there were come four wounded knights within the Castle of
  • Tintagil, and one of them his neck was nigh broken in twain. Another
  • had his arm stricken away, the third was borne through with a spear,
  • the fourth had his teeth stricken in twain. And when they came afore
  • King Mark they cried and said: King, why fleest thou not, for all this
  • country is arisen clearly against thee? Then was King Mark wroth out of
  • measure.
  • And in the meanwhile there came into the country Sir Percivale de Galis
  • to seek Sir Tristram. And when he heard that Sir Tristram was in
  • prison, Sir Percivale made clearly the deliverance of Sir Tristram by
  • his knightly means. And when he was so delivered he made great joy of
  • Sir Percivale, and so each one of other. Sir Tristram said unto Sir
  • Percivale: An ye will abide in these marches I will ride with you. Nay,
  • said Percivale, in this country I may not tarry, for I must needs into
  • Wales. So Sir Percivale departed from Sir Tristram, and rode straight
  • unto King Mark, and told him how he had delivered Sir Tristram; and
  • also he told the king that he had done himself great shame for to put
  • Sir Tristram in prison, for he is now the knight of most renown in this
  • world living. And wit thou well the noblest knights of the world love
  • Sir Tristram, and if he will make war upon you ye may not abide it.
  • That is truth, said King Mark, but I may not love Sir Tristram because
  • he loveth my queen and my wife, La Beale Isoud. Ah, fie for shame, said
  • Sir Percivale, say ye never so more. Are ye not uncle unto Sir
  • Tristram, and he your nephew? Ye should never think that so noble a
  • knight as Sir Tristram is, that he would do himself so great a villainy
  • to hold his uncle’s wife; howbeit, said Sir Percivale, he may love your
  • queen sinless, because she is called one of the fairest ladies of the
  • world.
  • Then Sir Percivale departed from King Mark. So when he was departed
  • King Mark bethought him of more treason: notwithstanding King Mark
  • granted Sir Percivale never by no manner of means to hurt Sir Tristram.
  • So anon King Mark sent unto Sir Dinas the Seneschal that he should put
  • down all the people that he had raised, for he sent him an oath that he
  • would go himself unto the Pope of Rome to war upon the miscreants; and
  • this is a fairer war than thus to arise the people against your king.
  • When Sir Dinas understood that King Mark would go upon the miscreants,
  • then Sir Dinas in all the haste put down all the people; and when the
  • people were departed every man to his home, then King Mark espied where
  • was Sir Tristram with La Beale Isoud; and there by treason King Mark
  • let take him and put him in prison, contrary to his promise that he
  • made unto Sir Percivale.
  • When Queen Isoud understood that Sir Tristram was in prison she made as
  • great sorrow as ever made lady or gentlewoman. Then Sir Tristram sent a
  • letter unto La Beale Isoud, and prayed her to be his good lady; and if
  • it pleased her to make a vessel ready for her and him, he would go with
  • her unto the realm of Logris, that is this land. When La Beale Isoud
  • understood Sir Tristram’s letters and his intent, she sent him another,
  • and bade him be of good comfort, for she would do make the vessel
  • ready, and all thing to purpose.
  • Then La Beale Isoud sent unto Sir Dinas, and to Sadok, and prayed them
  • in anywise to take King Mark, and put him in prison, unto the time that
  • she and Sir Tristram were departed unto the realm of Logris. When Sir
  • Dinas the Seneschal understood the treason of King Mark he promised her
  • again, and sent her word that King Mark should be put in prison. And as
  • they devised it so it was done. And then Sir Tristram was delivered out
  • of prison; and anon in all the haste Queen Isoud and Sir Tristram went
  • and took their counsel with that they would have with them when they
  • departed.
  • CHAPTER LII. How Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud came unto England, and
  • how Sir Launcelot brought them to Joyous Gard.
  • Then La Beale Isoud and Sir Tristram took their vessel, and came by
  • water into this land. And so they were not in this land four days but
  • there came a cry of a jousts and tournament that King Arthur let make.
  • When Sir Tristram heard tell of that tournament he disguised himself,
  • and La Beale Isoud, and rode unto that tournament. And when he came
  • there he saw many knights joust and tourney; and so Sir Tristram
  • dressed him to the range, and to make short conclusion, he overthrew
  • fourteen knights of the Round Table. When Sir Launcelot saw these
  • knights thus overthrown, Sir Launcelot dressed him to Sir Tristram.
  • That saw La Beale Isoud how Sir Launcelot was come into the field. Then
  • La Beale Isoud sent unto Sir Launcelot a ring, and bade him wit that it
  • was Sir Tristram de Liones. When Sir Launcelot under stood that there
  • was Sir Tristram he was full glad, and would not joust. Then Sir
  • Launcelot espied whither Sir Tristram yede, and after him he rode; and
  • then either made of other great joy. And so Sir Launcelot brought Sir
  • Tristram and La Beale Isoud unto Joyous Gard, that was his own castle,
  • that he had won with his own hands. And there Sir Launcelot put them in
  • to wield for their own. And wit ye well that castle was garnished and
  • furnished for a king and a queen royal there to have sojourned. And Sir
  • Launcelot charged all his people to honour them and love them as they
  • would do himself.
  • So Sir Launcelot departed unto King Arthur; and then he told Queen
  • Guenever how he that jousted so well at the last tournament was Sir
  • Tristram. And there he told her how he had with him La Beale Isoud
  • maugre King Mark, and so Queen Guenever told all this unto King Arthur.
  • When King Arthur wist that Sir Tristram was escaped and come from King
  • Mark, and had brought La Beale Isoud with him, then was he passing
  • glad. So because of Sir Tristram King Arthur let make a cry, that on
  • May Day should be a jousts before the castle of Lonazep; and that
  • castle was fast by Joyous Gard. And thus Arthur devised, that all the
  • knights of this land, and of Cornwall, and of North Wales, should joust
  • against all these countries, Ireland, Scotland, and the remnant of
  • Wales, and the country of Gore, and Surluse, and of Listinoise, and
  • they of Northumberland, and all they that held lands of Arthur on this
  • half the sea. When this cry was made many knights were glad and many
  • were unglad. Sir, said Launcelot unto Arthur, by this cry that ye have
  • made ye will put us that be about you in great jeopardy, for there be
  • many knights that have great envy to us; therefore when we shall meet
  • at the day of jousts there will be hard shift among us. As for that,
  • said Arthur, I care not; there shall we prove who shall be best of his
  • hands. So when Sir Launcelot understood wherefore King Arthur made this
  • jousting, then he made such purveyance that La Beale Isoud should
  • behold the jousts in a secret place that was honest for her estate.
  • Now turn we unto Sir Tristram and to La Beale Isoud, how they made
  • great joy daily together with all manner of mirths that they could
  • devise; and every day Sir Tristram would go ride a-hunting, for Sir
  • Tristram was that time called the best chaser of the world, and the
  • noblest blower of an horn of all manner of measures; for as books
  • report, of Sir Tristram came all the good terms of venery and hunting,
  • and all the sizes and measures of blowing of an horn; and of him we had
  • first all the terms of hawking, and which were beasts of chase and
  • beasts of venery, and which were vermins, and all the blasts that long
  • to all manner of games. First to the uncoupling, to the seeking, to the
  • rechate, to the flight, to the death, and to strake, and many other
  • blasts and terms, that all manner of gentlemen have cause to the
  • world’s end to praise Sir Tristram, and to pray for his soul.
  • CHAPTER LIII. How by the counsel of La Beale Isoud Sir Tristram rode
  • armed, and how he met with Sir Palomides.
  • So on a day La Beale Isoud said unto Sir Tristram: I marvel me much,
  • said she, that ye remember not yourself, how ye be here in a strange
  • country, and here be many perilous knights; and well ye wot that King
  • Mark is full of treason; and that ye will ride thus to chase and to
  • hunt unarmed ye might be destroyed. My fair lady and my love, I cry you
  • mercy, I will no more do so. So then Sir Tristram rode daily a-hunting
  • armed, and his men bearing his shield and his spear. So on a day a
  • little afore the month of May, Sir Tristram chased an hart passing
  • eagerly, and so the hart passed by a fair well. And then Sir Tristram
  • alighted and put off his helm to drink of that bubbly water. Right so
  • he heard and saw the Questing Beast come to the well. When Sir Tristram
  • saw that beast he put on his helm, for he deemed he should hear of Sir
  • Palomides, for that beast was his quest. Right so Sir Tristram saw
  • where came a knight armed, upon a noble courser, and he saluted him,
  • and they spake of many things; and this knight’s name was Breuse Saunce
  • Pité. And right so withal there came unto them the noble knight Sir
  • Palomides, and either saluted other, and spake fair to other.
  • Fair knights, said Sir Palomides, I can tell you tidings. What is that?
  • said those knights. Sirs, wit ye well that King Mark is put in prison
  • by his own knights, and all was for love of Sir Tristram; for King Mark
  • had put Sir Tristram twice in prison, and once Sir Percivale delivered
  • the noble knight Sir Tristram out of prison. And at the last time Queen
  • La Beale Isoud delivered him, and went clearly away with him into this
  • realm; and all this while King Mark, the false traitor, is in prison.
  • Is this truth? said Palomides; then shall we hastily hear of Sir
  • Tristram. And as for to say that I love La Beale Isoud paramours, I
  • dare make good that I do, and that she hath my service above all other
  • ladies, and shall have the term of my life.
  • And right so as they stood talking they saw afore them where came a
  • knight all armed, on a great horse, and one of his men bare his shield,
  • and the other his spear. And anon as that knight espied them he gat his
  • shield and his spear and dressed him to joust. Fair fellows, said Sir
  • Tristram, yonder is a knight will joust with us, let see which of us
  • shall encounter with him, for I see well he is of the court of King
  • Arthur. It shall not be long or he be met withal, said Sir Palomides,
  • for I found never no knight in my quest of this glasting beast, but an
  • he would joust I never refused him. As well may I, said Breuse Saunce
  • Pité, follow that beast as ye. Then shall ye do battle with me, said
  • Palomides.
  • So Sir Palomides dressed him unto that other knight, Sir Bleoberis,
  • that was a full noble knight, nigh kin unto Sir Launcelot. And so they
  • met so hard that Sir Palomides fell to the earth, horse and all. Then
  • Sir Bleoberis cried aloud and said thus: Make thee ready thou false
  • traitor knight, Breuse Saunce Pité, for wit thou certainly I will have
  • ado with thee to the utterance for the noble knights and ladies that
  • thou hast falsely betrayed. When this false knight and traitor, Breuse
  • Saunce Pité, heard him say so, he took his horse by the bridle and fled
  • his way as fast as ever his horse might run, for sore he was of him
  • afeard. When Sir Bleoberis saw him flee he followed fast after, through
  • thick and through thin. And by fortune as Sir Breuse fled, he saw even
  • afore him three knights of the Table Round, of the which the one hight
  • Sir Ector de Maris, the other hight Sir Percivale de Galis, the third
  • hight Sir Harry le Fise Lake, a good knight and an hardy. And as for
  • Sir Percivale, he was called that time of his time one of the best
  • knights of the world, and the best assured. When Breuse saw these
  • knights he rode straight unto them, and cried unto them and prayed them
  • of rescues. What need have ye? said Sir Ector. Ah, fair knights, said
  • Sir Breuse, here followeth me the most traitor knight, and most coward,
  • and most of villainy; his name is Breuse Saunce Pité, and if he may get
  • me he will slay me without mercy and pity. Abide with us, said Sir
  • Percivale, and we shall warrant you.
  • Then were they ware of Sir Bleoberis that came riding all that he
  • might. Then Sir Ector put himself forth to joust afore them all. When
  • Sir Bleoberis saw that they were four knights and he but himself, he
  • stood in a doubt whether he would turn or hold his way. Then he said to
  • himself: I am a knight of the Table Round, and rather than I should
  • shame mine oath and my blood I will hold my way whatsoever fall
  • thereof. And then Sir Ector dressed his spear, and smote either other
  • passing sore, but Sir Ector fell to the earth. That saw Sir Percivale,
  • and he dressed his horse toward him all that he might drive, but Sir
  • Percivale had such a stroke that horse and man fell to the earth. When
  • Sir Harry saw that they were both to the earth then he said to himself:
  • Never was Breuse of such prowess. So Sir Harry dressed his horse, and
  • they met together so strongly that both the horses and knights fell to
  • the earth, but Sir Bleoberis’ horse began to recover again. That saw
  • Breuse and he came hurtling, and smote him over and over, and would
  • have slain him as he lay on the ground. Then Sir Harry le Fise Lake
  • arose lightly, and took the bridle of Sir Breuse’s horse, and said: Fie
  • for shame! strike never a knight when he is at the earth, for this
  • knight may be called no shameful knight of his deeds, for yet as men
  • may see thereas he lieth on the ground he hath done worshipfully, and
  • put to the worse passing good knights. Therefore will I not let, said
  • Sir Breuse. Thou shalt not choose, said Sir Harry, as at this time.
  • Then when Sir Breuse saw that he might not choose nor have his will he
  • spake fair. Then Sir Harry let him go. And then anon he made his horse
  • to run over Sir Bleoberis, and rashed him to the earth like if he would
  • have slain him. When Sir Harry saw him do so villainously he cried:
  • Traitor knight, leave off for shame. And as Sir Harry would have taken
  • his horse to fight with Sir Breuse, then Sir Breuse ran upon him as he
  • was half upon his horse, and smote him down, horse and man, to the
  • earth, and had near slain Sir Harry, the good knight. That saw Sir
  • Percivale, and then he cried: Traitor knight what dost thou? And when
  • Sir Percivale was upon his horse Sir Breuse took his horse and fled all
  • that ever he might, and Sir Percivale and Sir Harry followed after him
  • fast, but ever the longer they chased the farther were they behind.
  • Then they turned again and came to Sir Ector de Maris and to Sir
  • Bleoberis. Ah, fair knights, said Bleoberis, why have ye succoured that
  • false knight and traitor? Why said Sir Harry, what knight is he? for
  • well I wot it is a false knight, said Sir Harry, and a coward and a
  • felonious knight. Sir, said Bleoberis, he is the most coward knight,
  • and a devourer of ladies and a destroyer of good knights and especially
  • of Arthur’s. What is your name? said Sir Ector. My name is Sir
  • Bleoberis de Ganis. Alas, fair cousin, said Ector, forgive it me, for I
  • am Sir Ector de Maris. Then Sir Percivale and Sir Harry made great joy
  • that they met with Bleoberis, but all they were heavy that Sir Breuse
  • was escaped them, whereof they made great dole.
  • CHAPTER LIV. Of Sir Palomides, and how he met with Sir Bleoberis and
  • with Sir Ector, and of Sir Pervivale.
  • Right so as they stood thus there came Sir Palomides, and when he saw
  • the shield of Bleoberis lie on the earth, then said Palomides: He that
  • oweth that shield let him dress him to me, for he smote me down here
  • fast by at a fountain, and therefore I will fight for him on foot. I am
  • ready, said Bleoberis, here to answer thee, for wit thou well, sir
  • knight, it was I, and my name is Bleoberis de Ganis. Well art thou met,
  • said Palomides, and wit thou well my name is Palomides the Saracen; and
  • either of them hated other to the death. Sir Palomides, said Ector, wit
  • thou well there is neither thou nor none knight that beareth the life
  • that slayeth any of our blood but he shall die for it; therefore an
  • thou list to fight go seek Sir Launcelot or Sir Tristram, and there
  • shall ye find your match. With them have I met, said Palomides, but I
  • had never no worship of them. Was there never no manner of knight, said
  • Sir Ector, but they that ever matched with you? Yes, said Palomides,
  • there was the third, a good knight as any of them, and of his age he
  • was the best that ever I found; for an he might have lived till he had
  • been an hardier man there liveth no knight now such, and his name was
  • Sir Lamorak de Galis. And as he had jousted at a tournament there he
  • overthrew me and thirty knights more, and there he won the degree. And
  • at his departing there met him Sir Gawaine and his brethren, and with
  • great pain they slew him feloniously, unto all good knights’ great
  • damage. Anon as Sir Percivale heard that his brother was dead, Sir
  • Lamorak, he fell over his horse’s mane swooning, and there he made the
  • greatest dole that ever made knight. And when Sir Percivale arose he
  • said: Alas, my good and noble brother Sir Lamorak, now shall we never
  • meet, and I trow in all the wide world a man may not find such a knight
  • as he was of his age; and it is too much to suffer the death of our
  • father King Pellinore, and now the death of our good brother Sir
  • Lamorak.
  • Then in the meanwhile there came a varlet from the court of King
  • Arthur, and told them of the great tournament that should be at
  • Lonazep, and how these lands, Cornwall and Northgalis, should be
  • against all them that would come.
  • CHAPTER LV. How Sir Tristram met with Sir Dinadan, and of their
  • devices, and what he said to Sir Gawaine’s brethren.
  • Now turn we unto Sir Tristram, that as he rode a-hunting he met with
  • Sir Dinadan, that was come into that country to seek Sir Tristram. Then
  • Sir Dinadan told Sir Tristram his name, but Sir Tristram would not tell
  • him his name, wherefore Sir Dinadan was wroth. For such a foolish
  • knight as ye are, said Sir Dinadan, I saw but late this day lying by a
  • well, and he fared as he slept; and there he lay like a fool grinning,
  • and would not speak, and his shield lay by him, and his horse stood by
  • him; and well I wot he was a lover. Ah, fair sir, said Sir Tristram are
  • ye not a lover? Mary, fie on that craft! said Sir Dinadan. That is evil
  • said, said Sir Tristram, for a knight may never be of prowess but if he
  • be a lover. It is well said, said Sir Dinadan; now tell me your name,
  • sith ye be a lover, or else I shall do battle with you. As for that,
  • said Sir Tristram, it is no reason to fight with me but I tell you my
  • name; and as for that my name shall ye not wit as at this time. Fie for
  • shame, said Dinadan, art thou a knight and durst not tell thy name to
  • me? therefore I will fight with thee. As for that, said Sir Tristram, I
  • will be advised, for I will not do battle but if me list. And if I do
  • battle, said Sir Tristram, ye are not able to withstand me. Fie on
  • thee, coward, said Sir Dinadan.
  • And thus as they hoved still, they saw a knight come riding against
  • them. Lo, said Sir Tristram, see where cometh a knight riding, will
  • joust with you. Anon, as Sir Dinadan beheld him he said: That is the
  • same doted knight that I saw lie by the well, neither sleeping nor
  • waking. Well, said Sir Tristram, I know that knight well with the
  • covered shield of azure, he is the king’s son of Northumberland, his
  • name is Epinegris; and he is as great a lover as I know, and he loveth
  • the king’s daughter of Wales, a full fair lady. And now I suppose, said
  • Sir Tristram, an ye require him he will joust with you, and then shall
  • ye prove whether a lover be a better knight, or ye that will not love
  • no lady. Well, said Dinadan, now shalt thou see what I shall do.
  • Therewithal Sir Dinadan spake on high and said: Sir knight, make thee
  • ready to joust with me, for it is the custom of errant knights one to
  • joust with other. Sir, said Epinegris, is that the rule of you errant
  • knights for to make a knight to joust, will he or nill? As for that,
  • said Dinadan, make thee ready, for here is for me. And therewithal they
  • spurred their horses and met together so hard that Epinegris smote down
  • Sir Dinadan. Then Sir Tristram rode to Sir Dinadan and said: How now,
  • meseemeth the lover hath well sped. Fie on thee, coward, said Sir
  • Dinadan, and if thou be a good knight revenge me. Nay, said Sir
  • Tristram, I will not joust as at this time, but take your horse and let
  • us go hence. God defend me, said Sir Dinadan, from thy fellowship, for
  • I never sped well since I met with thee: and so they departed. Well,
  • said Sir Tristram, peradventure I could tell you tidings of Sir
  • Tristram. God defend me, said Dinadan, from thy fellowship, for Sir
  • Tristram were mickle the worse an he were in thy company; and then they
  • departed. Sir, said Sir Tristram, yet it may happen I shall meet with
  • you in other places.
  • So rode Sir Tristram unto Joyous Gard, and there he heard in that town
  • great noise and cry. What is this noise? said Sir Tristram. Sir, said
  • they, here is a knight of this castle that hath been long among us, and
  • right now he is slain with two knights, and for none other cause but
  • that our knight said that Sir Launcelot were a better knight than Sir
  • Gawaine. That was a simple cause, said Sir Tristram, for to slay a good
  • knight for to say well by his master. That is little remedy to us, said
  • the men of the town. For an Sir Launcelot had been here soon we should
  • have been revenged upon the false knights.
  • When Sir Tristram heard them say so he sent for his shield and for his
  • spear, and lightly within a while he had overtaken them, and bade them
  • turn and amend that they had misdone. What amends wouldst thou have?
  • said the one knight. And therewith they took their course, and either
  • met other so hard that Sir Tristram smote down that knight over his
  • horse’s tail. Then the other knight dressed him to Sir Tristram, and in
  • the same wise he served the other knight. And then they gat off their
  • horses as well as they might, and dressed their shields and swords to
  • do their battle to the utterance. Knights, said Sir Tristram, ye shall
  • tell me of whence ye are, and what be your names, for such men ye might
  • be ye should hard escape my hands; and ye might be such men of such a
  • country that for all your evil deeds ye should pass quit. Wit thou
  • well, sir knight, said they, we fear not to tell thee our names, for my
  • name is Sir Agravaine, and my name is Gaheris, brethren unto the good
  • knight Sir Gawaine, and we be nephews unto King Arthur. Well, said Sir
  • Tristram, for King Arthur’s sake I shall let you pass as at this time.
  • But it is shame, said Sir Tristram, that Sir Gawaine and ye be come of
  • so great a blood that ye four brethren are so named as ye be, for ye be
  • called the greatest destroyers and murderers of good knights that be
  • now in this realm; for it is but as I heard say that Sir Gawaine and ye
  • slew among you a better knight than ever ye were, that was the noble
  • knight Sir Lamorak de Galis. An it had pleased God, said Sir Tristram,
  • I would I had been by Sir Lamorak at his death. Then shouldst thou have
  • gone the same way, said Sir Gaheris. Fair knight, said Sir Tristram,
  • there must have been many more knights than ye are. And therewithal Sir
  • Tristram departed from them toward Joyous Gard. And when he was
  • departed they took their horses, and the one said to the other: We will
  • overtake him and be revenged upon him in the despite of Sir Lamorak.
  • CHAPTER LVI. How Sir Tristram smote down Sir Agravaine and Sir Gaheris,
  • and how Sir Dinadan was sent for by La Beale Isoud.
  • So when they had overtaken Sir Tristram, Sir Agravaine bade him: Turn,
  • traitor knight. That is evil said, said Sir Tristram; and therewith he
  • pulled out his sword, and smote Sir Agravaine such a buffet upon the
  • helm that he tumbled down off his horse in a swoon, and he had a
  • grievous wound. And then he turned to Gaheris, and Sir Tristram smote
  • his sword and his helm together with such a might that Gaheris fell out
  • of his saddle: and so Sir Tristram rode unto Joyous Gard, and there he
  • alighted and unarmed him. So Sir Tristram told La Beale Isoud of all
  • his adventure, as ye have heard to-fore. And when she heard him tell of
  • Sir Dinadan: Sir, said she, is not that he that made the song by King
  • Mark? That same is he, said Sir Tristram, for he is the best bourder
  • and japer, and a noble knight of his hands, and the best fellow that I
  • know, and all good knights love his fellowship. Alas, sir, said she,
  • why brought ye not him with you? Have ye no care, said Sir Tristram,
  • for he rideth to seek me in this country; and therefore he will not
  • away till he have met with me. And there Sir Tristram told La Beale
  • Isoud how Sir Dinadan held against all lovers. Right so there came in a
  • varlet and told Sir Tristram how there was come an errant knight into
  • the town, with such colours upon his shield. That is Sir Dinadan, said
  • Sir Tristram; wit ye what ye shall do, said Sir Tristram: send ye for
  • him, my Lady Isoud, and I will not be seen, and ye shall hear the
  • merriest knight that ever ye spake withal, and the maddest talker; and
  • I pray you heartily that ye make him good cheer.
  • Then anon La Beale Isoud sent into the town, and prayed Sir Dinadan
  • that he would come into the castle and repose him there with a lady.
  • With a good will, said Sir Dinadan; and so he mounted upon his horse
  • and rode into the castle; and there he alighted, and was unarmed, and
  • brought into the castle. Anon La Beale Isoud came unto him, and either
  • saluted other; then she asked him of whence that he was. Madam, said
  • Dinadan, I am of the court of King Arthur, and knight of the Table
  • Round, and my name is Sir Dinadan. What do ye in this country? said La
  • Beale Isoud. Madam, said he, I seek Sir Tristram the good knight, for
  • it was told me that he was in this country. It may well be, said La
  • Beale Isoud, but I am not ware of him. Madam, said Dinadan, I marvel of
  • Sir Tristram and mo other lovers, what aileth them to be so mad and so
  • sotted upon women. Why, said La Beale Isoud, are ye a knight and be no
  • lover? it is shame to you: wherefore ye may not be called a good knight
  • [but] if ye make a quarrel for a lady. God defend me, said Dinadan, for
  • the joy of love is too short, and the sorrow thereof, and what cometh
  • thereof, dureth over long. Ah, said La Beale Isoud, say ye not so, for
  • here fast by was the good knight Sir Bleoberis, that fought with three
  • knights at once for a damosel’s sake, and he won her afore the King of
  • Northumberland. It was so, said Sir Dinadan, for I know him well for a
  • good knight and a noble, and come of noble blood; for all be noble
  • knights of whom he is come of, that is Sir Launcelot du Lake.
  • Now I pray you, said La Beale Isoud, tell me will you fight for my love
  • with three knights that do me great wrong? and insomuch as ye be a
  • knight of King Arthur’s I require you to do battle for me. Then Sir
  • Dinadan said: I shall say you ye be as fair a lady as ever I saw any,
  • and much fairer than is my lady Queen Guenever, but wit ye well at one
  • word, I will not fight for you with three knights, Jesu defend me. Then
  • Isoud laughed, and had good game at him. So he had all the cheer that
  • she might make him, and there he lay all that night. And on the morn
  • early Sir Tristram armed him, and La Beale Isoud gave him a good helm;
  • and then he promised her that he would meet with Sir Dinadan, and they
  • two would ride together into Lonazep, where the tournament should be:
  • And there shall I make ready for you where ye shall see the tournament.
  • Then departed Sir Tristram with two squires that bare his shield and
  • his spears that were great and long.
  • CHAPTER LVII. How Sir Dinadan met with Sir Tristram, and with jousting
  • with Sir Palomides, Sir Dinadan knew him.
  • Then after that Sir Dinadan departed, and rode his way a great pace
  • until he had overtaken Sir Tristram. And when Sir Dinadan had overtaken
  • him he knew him anon, and he hated the fellowship of him above all
  • other knights. Ah, said Sir Dinadan, art thou that coward knight that I
  • met with yesterday? keep thee, for thou shalt joust with me maugre thy
  • head. Well, said Sir Tristram, and I am loath to joust. And so they let
  • their horses run, and Sir Tristram missed of him a-purpose, and Sir
  • Dinadan brake a spear upon Sir Tristram, and therewith Sir Dinadan
  • dressed him to draw out his sword. Not so, said Sir Tristram, why are
  • ye so wroth? I will not fight. Fie on thee, coward, said Dinadan, thou
  • shamest all knights. As for that, said Sir Tristram, I care not, for I
  • will wait upon you and be under your protection; for because ye are so
  • good a knight ye may save me. The devil deliver me of thee, said Sir
  • Dinadan, for thou art as goodly a man of arms and of thy person as ever
  • I saw, and the most coward that ever I saw. What wilt thou do with
  • those great spears that thou carriest with thee? I shall give them,
  • said Sir Tristram, to some good knight when I come to the tournament;
  • and if I see you do best, I shall give them to you.
  • So thus as they rode talking they saw where came an errant knight afore
  • them, that dressed him to joust. Lo, said Sir Tristram, yonder is one
  • will joust; now dress thee to him. Ah, shame betide thee, said Sir
  • Dinadan. Nay, not so, said Tristram, for that knight beseemeth a shrew.
  • Then shall I, said Sir Dinadan. And so they dressed their shields and
  • their spears, and they met together so hard that the other knight smote
  • down Sir Dinadan from his horse. Lo, said Sir Tristram, it had been
  • better ye had left. Fie on thee, coward, said Sir Dinadan. Then Sir
  • Dinadan started up and gat his sword in his hand, and proffered to do
  • battle on foot. Whether in love or in wrath? said the other knight. Let
  • us do battle in love, said Sir Dinadan. What is your name, said that
  • knight, I pray you tell me. Wit ye well my name is Sir Dinadan. Ah,
  • Dinadan, said that knight, and my name is Gareth, the youngest brother
  • unto Sir Gawaine. Then either made of other great cheer, for this
  • Gareth was the best knight of all the brethren, and he proved a good
  • knight. Then they took their horses, and there they spake of Sir
  • Tristram, how such a coward he was; and every word Sir Tristram heard
  • and laughed them to scorn.
  • Then were they ware where came a knight afore them well horsed and well
  • armed, and he made him ready to joust. Fair knights, said Sir Tristram,
  • look betwixt you who shall joust with yonder knight, for I warn you I
  • will not have ado with him. Then shall I, said Sir Gareth. And so they
  • encountered together, and there that knight smote down Sir Gareth over
  • his horse’s croup. How now, said Sir Tristram unto Sir Dinadan, dress
  • thee now and revenge the good knight Gareth. That shall I not, said Sir
  • Dinadan, for he hath stricken down a much bigger knight than I am. Ah,
  • said Sir Tristram, now Sir Dinadan, I see and feel well your heart
  • faileth you, therefore now shall ye see what I shall do. And then Sir
  • Tristram hurtled unto that knight, and smote him quite from his horse.
  • And when Sir Dinadan saw that, he marvelled greatly; and then he deemed
  • that it was Sir Tristram.
  • Then this knight that was on foot pulled out his sword to do battle.
  • What is your name? said Sir Tristram. Wit ye well, said that knight, my
  • name is Sir Palomides. What knight hate ye most? said Sir Tristram. Sir
  • knight, said he, I hate Sir Tristram to the death, for an I may meet
  • with him the one of us shall die. Ye say well, said Sir Tristram, and
  • wit ye well that I am Sir Tristram de Liones, and now do your worst.
  • When Sir Palomides heard him say so he was astonied. And then he said
  • thus: I pray you, Sir Tristram, forgive me all mine evil will, and if I
  • live I shall do you service above all other knights that be living; and
  • whereas I have owed you evil will me sore repenteth. I wot not what
  • aileth me, for meseemeth that ye are a good knight, and none other
  • knight that named himself a good knight should not hate you; therefore
  • I require you, Sir Tristram, take no displeasure at mine unkind words.
  • Sir Palomides, said Sir Tristram, ye say well, and well I wot ye are a
  • good knight, for I have seen ye proved; and many great enterprises have
  • ye taken upon you, and well achieved them; therefore, said Sir
  • Tristram, an ye have any evil will to me, now may ye right it, for I am
  • ready at your hand. Not so, my lord Sir Tristram, I will do you
  • knightly service in all thing as ye will command. And right so I will
  • take you, said Sir Tristram. And so they rode forth on their ways
  • talking of many things. O my lord Sir Tristram, said Dinadan, foul have
  • ye mocked me, for God knoweth I came into this country for your sake,
  • and by the advice of my lord Sir Launcelot; and yet would not Sir
  • Launcelot tell me the certainty of you, where I should find you. Truly,
  • said Sir Tristram, Sir Launcelot wist well where I was, for I abode
  • within his own castle.
  • CHAPTER LVIII. How they approached the Castle Lonazep, and of other
  • devices of the death of Sir Lamorak.
  • Thus they rode until they were ware of the Castle Lonazep. And then
  • were they ware of four hundred tents and pavilions, and marvellous
  • great ordinance. So God me help, said Sir Tristram, yonder I see the
  • greatest ordinance that ever I saw. Sir, said Palomides, meseemeth that
  • there was as great an ordinance at the Castle of Maidens upon the rock,
  • where ye won the prize, for I saw myself where ye forjousted thirty
  • knights. Sir, said Dinadan, and in Surluse, at that tournament that
  • Galahalt of the Long Isles made, the which there dured seven days, was
  • as great a gathering as is here, for there were many nations. Who was
  • the best? said Sir Tristram. Sir, it was Sir Launcelot du Lake and the
  • noble knight, Sir Lamorak de Galis, and Sir Launcelot won the degree. I
  • doubt not, said Sir Tristram, but he won the degree, so he had not been
  • overmatched with many knights; and of the death of Sir Lamorak, said
  • Sir Tristram, it was over great pity, for I dare say he was the
  • cleanest mighted man and the best winded of his age that was alive; for
  • I knew him that he was the biggest knight that ever I met withal, but
  • if it were Sir Launcelot. Alas, said Sir Tristram, full woe is me for
  • his death. And if they were not the cousins of my lord Arthur that slew
  • him, they should die for it, and all those that were consenting to his
  • death. And for such things, said Sir Tristram, I fear to draw unto the
  • court of my lord Arthur; I will that ye wit it, said Sir Tristram unto
  • Gareth.
  • Sir, I blame you not, said Gareth, for well I understand the vengeance
  • of my brethren Sir Gawaine, Agravaine, Gaheris, and Mordred. But as for
  • me, said Sir Gareth, I meddle not of their matters, therefore there is
  • none of them that loveth me. And for I understand they be murderers of
  • good knights I left their company; and God would I had been by, said
  • Gareth, when the noble knight, Sir Lamorak, was slain.
  • Now as Jesu be my help, said Sir Tristram, it is well said of you, for
  • I had liefer than all the gold betwixt this and Rome I had been there.
  • Iwis, said Palomides, and so would I had been there, and yet had I
  • never the degree at no jousts nor tournament thereas he was, but he put
  • me to the worse, or on foot or on horseback; and that day that he was
  • slain he did the most deeds of arms that ever I saw knight do in all my
  • life days. And when him was given the degree by my lord Arthur, Sir
  • Gawaine and his three brethren, Agravaine, Gaheris, and Sir Mordred,
  • set upon Sir Lamorak in a privy place, and there they slew his horse.
  • And so they fought with him on foot more than three hours, both before
  • him and behind him; and Sir Mordred gave him his death wound behind him
  • at his back, and all to-hew him: for one of his squires told me that
  • saw it. Fie upon treason, said Sir Tristram, for it killeth my heart to
  • hear this tale. So it doth mine, said Gareth; brethren as they be mine
  • I shall never love them, nor draw in their fellowship for that deed.
  • Now speak we of other deeds, said Palomides, and let him be, for his
  • life ye may not get again. That is the more pity, said Dinadan, for Sir
  • Gawaine and his brethren, except you Sir Gareth, hate all the good
  • knights of the Round Table for the most part; for well I wot an they
  • might privily, they hate my lord Sir Launcelot and all his kin, and
  • great privy despite they have at him; and that is my lord Sir Launcelot
  • well ware of, and that causeth him to have the good knights of his kin
  • about him.
  • CHAPTER LIX. How they came to Humber bank, and how they found a ship
  • there, wherein lay the body of King Hermance.
  • Sir, said Palomides, let us leave of this matter, and let us see how we
  • shall do at this tournament. By mine advice, said Palomides, let us
  • four hold together against all that will come. Not by my counsel, said
  • Sir Tristram, for I see by their pavilions there will be four hundred
  • knights, and doubt ye not, said Sir Tristram, but there will be many
  • good knights; and be a man never so valiant nor so big, yet he may be
  • overmatched. And so have I seen knights done many times; and when they
  • weened best to have won worship they lost it, for manhood is not worth
  • but if it be medled with wisdom. And as for me, said Sir Tristram, it
  • may happen I shall keep mine own head as well as another.
  • So thus they rode until that they came to Humber bank, where they heard
  • a cry and a doleful noise. Then were they ware in the wind where came a
  • rich vessel hilled over with red silk, and the vessel landed fast by
  • them. Therewith Sir Tristram alighted and his knights. And so Sir
  • Tristram went afore and entered into that vessel. And when he came
  • within he saw a fair bed richly covered, and thereupon lay a dead
  • seemly knight, all armed save the head, was all be-bled with deadly
  • wounds upon him, the which seemed to be a passing good knight. How may
  • this be, said Sir Tristram, that this knight is thus slain? Then Sir
  • Tristram was ware of a letter in the dead knight’s hand. Master
  • mariners, said Sir Tristram, what meaneth that letter? Sir, said they,
  • in that letter ye shall hear and know how he was slain, and for what
  • cause, and what was his name. But sir, said the mariners, wit ye well
  • that no man shall take that letter and read it but if he be a good
  • knight, and that he will faithfully promise to revenge his death, else
  • shall there be no knight see that letter open. Wit ye well, said Sir
  • Tristram, that some of us may revenge his death as well as other, and
  • if it be so as ye mariners say his death shall be revenged. And
  • therewith Sir Tristram took the letter out of the knight’s hand, and it
  • said thus: Hermance, king and lord of the Red City, I send unto all
  • knights errant, recommending unto you noble knights of Arthur’s court.
  • I beseech them all among them to find one knight that will fight for my
  • sake with two brethren that I brought up of nought, and feloniously and
  • traitorly they have slain me; wherefore I beseech one good knight to
  • revenge my death. And he that revengeth my death I will that he have my
  • Red City and all my castles.
  • Sir, said the mariners, wit ye well this king and knight that here
  • lieth was a full worshipful man and of full great prowess, and full
  • well he loved all manner knights errants. So God me help, said Sir
  • Tristram, here is a piteous case, and full fain would I take this
  • enterprise upon me; but I have made such a promise that needs I must be
  • at this great tournament, or else I am shamed. For well I wot for my
  • sake in especial my lord Arthur let make this jousts and tournament in
  • this country; and well I wot that many worshipful people will be there
  • at that tournament for to see me; therefore I fear me to take this
  • enterprise upon me that I shall not come again by time to this jousts.
  • Sir, said Palomides, I pray you give me this enterprise, and ye shall
  • see me achieve it worshipfully, other else I shall die in this quarrel.
  • Well, said Sir Tristram, and this enterprise I give you, with this,
  • that ye be with me at this tournament that shall be as this day seven
  • night. Sir, said Palomides, I promise you that I shall be with you by
  • that day if I be unslain or unmaimed.
  • CHAPTER LX. How Sir Tristram with his fellowship came and were with an
  • host which after fought with Sir Tristram; and other matters.
  • Then departed Sir Tristram, Gareth, and Sir Dinadan, and left Sir
  • Palomides in the vessel; and so Sir Tristram beheld the mariners how
  • they sailed overlong Humber. And when Sir Palomides was out of their
  • sight they took their horses and beheld about them. And then were they
  • ware of a knight that came riding against them unarmed, and nothing
  • about him but a sword. And when this knight came nigh them he saluted
  • them, and they him again. Fair knights, said that knight, I pray you
  • insomuch as ye be knights errant, that ye will come and see my castle,
  • and take such as ye find there; I pray you heartily. And so they rode
  • with him until his castle, and there they were brought into the hall,
  • that was well apparelled; and so they were there unarmed, and set at a
  • board; and when this knight saw Sir Tristram, anon he knew him. And
  • then this knight waxed pale and wroth at Sir Tristram. When Sir
  • Tristram saw his host make such cheer he marvelled and said: Sir, mine
  • host, what cheer make you? Wit thou well, said he, I fare the worse for
  • thee, for I know thee, Sir Tristram de Liones, thou slewest my brother;
  • and therefore I give thee summons I will slay thee an ever I may get
  • thee at large. Sir knight, said Sir Tristram, I am never advised that
  • ever I slew any brother of yours; and if ye say that I did I will make
  • amends unto my power. I will none amends, said the knight, but keep
  • thee from me.
  • So when he had dined Sir Tristram asked his arms, and departed. And so
  • they rode on their ways, and within a while Sir Dinadan saw where came
  • a knight well armed and well horsed, without shield. Sir Tristram, said
  • Sir Dinadan, take keep to yourself, for I dare undertake yonder cometh
  • your host that will have ado with you. Let him come, said Sir Tristram,
  • I shall abide him as well as I may. Anon the knight, when he came nigh
  • Sir Tristram, he cried and bade him abide and keep him. So they hurtled
  • together, but Sir Tristram smote the other knight so sore that he bare
  • him over his horse’s croup. That knight arose lightly and took his
  • horse again, and so rode fiercely to Sir Tristram, and smote him twice
  • hard upon the helm. Sir knight, said Sir Tristram, I pray you leave off
  • and smite me no more, for I would be loath to deal with you an I might
  • choose, for I have your meat and your drink within my body. For all
  • that he would not leave; and then Sir Tristram gave him such a buffet
  • upon the helm that he fell up-so-down from his horse, that the blood
  • brast out at the ventails of his helm, and so he lay still likely to be
  • dead. Then Sir Tristram said: Me repenteth of this buffet that I smote
  • so sore, for as I suppose he is dead. And so they left him and rode on
  • their ways.
  • So they had not ridden but a while, but they saw riding against them
  • two full likely knights, well armed and well horsed, and goodly
  • servants about them. The one was Berrant le Apres, and he was called
  • the King with the Hundred Knights; and the other was Sir Segwarides,
  • which were renowned two noble knights. So as they came either by other
  • the king looked upon Sir Dinadan, that at that time he had Sir
  • Tristram’s helm upon his shoulder, the which helm the king had seen
  • to-fore with the Queen of Northgalis, and that queen the king loved as
  • paramour; and that helm the Queen of Northgalis had given to La Beale
  • Isoud, and the queen La Beale Isoud gave it to Sir Tristram. Sir
  • knight, said Berrant, where had ye that helm? What would ye? said Sir
  • Dinadan. For I will have ado with thee, said the king, for the love of
  • her that owed that helm, and therefore keep you. So they departed and
  • came together with all their mights of their horses, and there the King
  • with the Hundred Knights smote Sir Dinadan, horse and all, to the
  • earth; and then he commanded his servant: Go and take thou his helm
  • off, and keep it. So the varlet went to unbuckle his helm. What helm,
  • what wilt thou do? said Sir Tristram, leave that helm. To what intent,
  • said the king, will ye, sir knight, meddle with that helm? Wit you
  • well, said Sir Tristram, that helm shall not depart from me or it be
  • dearer bought. Then make you ready, said Sir Berrant unto Sir Tristram.
  • So they hurtled together, and there Sir Tristram smote him down over
  • his horse’s tail; and then the king arose lightly, and gat his horse
  • lightly again. And then he struck fiercely at Sir Tristram many great
  • strokes. And then Sir Tristram gave Sir Berrant such a buffet upon the
  • helm that he fell down over his horse sore stonied. Lo, said Dinadan,
  • that helm is unhappy to us twain, for I had a fall for it, and now, sir
  • king, have ye another fall.
  • Then Segwarides asked: Who shall joust with me? I pray thee, said Sir
  • Gareth unto Dinadan, let me have this jousts. Sir, said Dinadan, I pray
  • you take it as for me. That is no reason, said Tristram, for this
  • jousts should be yours. At a word, said Dinadan, I will not thereof.
  • Then Gareth dressed him to Sir Segwarides, and there Sir Segwarides
  • smote Gareth and his horse to the earth. Now, said Sir Tristram to
  • Dinadan, joust with yonder knight. I will not thereof, said Dinadan.
  • Then will I, said Sir Tristram. And then Sir Tristram ran to him, and
  • gave him a fall; and so they left them on foot, and Sir Tristram rode
  • unto Joyous Gard, and there Sir Gareth would not of his courtesy have
  • gone into this castle, but Sir Tristram would not suffer him to depart.
  • And so they alighted and unarmed them, and had great cheer. But when
  • Dinadan came afore La Beale Isoud he cursed the time that ever he bare
  • Sir Tristram’s helm, and there he told her how Sir Tristram had mocked
  • him. Then was there laughing and japing at Sir Dinadan, that they wist
  • not what to do with him.
  • CHAPTER LXI. How Palomides went for to fight with two brethren for the
  • death of King Hermance.
  • Now will we leave them merry within Joyous Gard, and speak we of Sir
  • Palomides. Then Sir Palomides sailed evenlong Humber to the coasts of
  • the sea, where was a fair castle. And at that time it was early in the
  • morning, afore day. Then the mariners went unto Sir Palomides that
  • slept fast. Sir knight, said the mariners, ye must arise, for here is a
  • castle there ye must go into. I assent me, said Sir Palomides; and
  • therewithal he arrived. And then he blew his horn that the mariners had
  • given him. And when they within the castle heard that horn they put
  • forth many knights; and there they stood upon the walls, and said with
  • one voice: Welcome be ye to this castle. And then it waxed clear day,
  • and Sir Palomides entered into the castle. And within a while he was
  • served with many divers meats. Then Sir Palomides heard about him much
  • weeping and great dole. What may this mean? said Sir Palomides; I love
  • not to hear such a sorrow, and fain I would know what it meaneth. Then
  • there came afore him one whose name was Sir Ebel, that said thus: Wit
  • ye well, sir knight, this dole and sorrow is here made every day, and
  • for this cause: we had a king that hight Hermance, and he was King of
  • the Red City, and this king that was lord was a noble knight, large and
  • liberal of his expense; and in the world he loved nothing so much as he
  • did errant knights of King Arthur’s court, and all jousting, hunting,
  • and all manner of knightly games; for so kind a king and knight had
  • never the rule of poor people as he was; and because of his goodness
  • and gentle ness we bemoan him, and ever shall. And all kings and
  • estates may beware by our lord, for he was destroyed in his own
  • default; for had he cherished them of his blood he had yet lived with
  • great riches and rest: but all estates may beware by our king. But
  • alas, said Ebel, that we shall give all other warning by his death.
  • Tell me, said Palomides, and in what manner was your lord slain, and by
  • whom. Sir, said Sir Ebel, our king brought up of children two men that
  • now are perilous knights; and these two knights our king had so in
  • charity, that he loved no man nor trusted no man of his blood, nor none
  • other that was about him. And by these two knights our king was
  • governed, and so they ruled him peaceably and his lands, and never
  • would they suffer none of his blood to have no rule with our king. And
  • also he was so free and so gentle, and they so false and deceivable,
  • that they ruled him peaceably; and that espied the lords of our king’s
  • blood, and departed from him unto their own livelihood. Then when these
  • two traitors understood that they had driven all the lords of his blood
  • from him, they were not pleased with that rule, but then they thought
  • to have more, as ever it is an old saw: Give a churl rule and thereby
  • he will not be sufficed; for whatsomever he be that is ruled by a
  • villain born, and the lord of the soil to be a gentleman born, the same
  • villain shall destroy all the gentlemen about him: therefore all
  • estates and lords, beware whom ye take about you. And if ye be a knight
  • of King Arthur’s court remember this tale, for this is the end and
  • conclusion. My lord and king rode unto the forest hereby by the advice
  • of these traitors, and there he chased at the red deer, armed at all
  • pieces full like a good knight; and so for labour he waxed dry, and
  • then he alighted, and drank at a well. And when he was alighted, by the
  • assent of these two traitors, that one that hight Helius he suddenly
  • smote our king through the body with a spear, and so they left him
  • there. And when they were departed, then by fortune I came to the well,
  • and found my lord and king wounded to the death. And when I heard his
  • complaint, I let bring him to the water side, and in that same ship I
  • put him alive; and when my lord King Hermance was in that vessel, he
  • required me for the true faith I owed unto him for to write a letter in
  • this manner.
  • CHAPTER LXII. The copy of the letter written for to revenge the king’s
  • death, and how Sir Palomides fought for to have the battle.
  • Recommending unto King Arthur and to all his knights errant, beseeching
  • them all that insomuch as I, King Hermance, King of the Red City, thus
  • am slain by felony and treason, through two knights of mine own, and of
  • mine own bringing up and of mine own making, that some worshipful
  • knight will revenge my death, insomuch I have been ever to my power
  • well willing unto Arthur’s court. And who that will adventure his life
  • with these two traitors for my sake in one battle, I, King Hermance,
  • King of the Red City, freely give him all my lands and rents that ever
  • I wielded in my life. This letter, said Ebel, I wrote by my lord’s
  • commandment, and then he received his Creator; and when he was dead, he
  • commanded me or ever he were cold to put that letter fast in his hand.
  • And then he commanded me to put forth that same vessel down Humber, and
  • I should give these mariners in commandment never to stint until that
  • they came unto Logris, where all the noble knights shall assemble at
  • this time. And there shall some good knight have pity on me to revenge
  • my death, for there was never king nor lord falslier nor traitorlier
  • slain than I am here to my death. Thus was the complaint of our King
  • Hermance. Now, said Sir Ebel, ye know all how our lord was betrayed, we
  • require you for God’s sake have pity upon his death, and worshipfully
  • revenge his death, and then may ye wield all these lands. For we all
  • wit well that an ye may slay these two traitors, the Red City and all
  • those that be therein will take you for their lord.
  • Truly, said Sir Palomides, it grieveth my heart for to hear you tell
  • this doleful tale; and to say the truth I saw the same letter that ye
  • speak of, and one of the best knights on the earth read that letter to
  • me, and by his commandment I came hither to revenge your king’s death;
  • and therefore have done, and let me wit where I shall find those
  • traitors, for I shall never be at ease in my heart till I be in hands
  • with them. Sir, said Sir Ebel, then take your ship again, and that ship
  • must bring you unto the Delectable Isle, fast by the Red City, and we
  • in this castle shall pray for you, and abide your again-coming. For
  • this same castle, an ye speed well, must needs be yours; for our King
  • Hermance let make this castle for the love of the two traitors, and so
  • we kept it with strong hand, and therefore full sore are we threated.
  • Wot ye what ye shall do, said Sir Palomides; whatsomever come of me,
  • look ye keep well this castle. For an it misfortune me so to be slain
  • in this quest I am sure there will come one of the best knights of the
  • world for to revenge my death, and that is Sir Tristram de Liones, or
  • else Sir Launcelot du Lake.
  • Then Sir Palomides departed from that castle. And as he came nigh the
  • city, there came out of a ship a goodly knight armed against him, with
  • his shield on his shoulder, and his hand upon his sword. And anon as he
  • came nigh Sir Palomides he said: Sir knight, what seek ye here? leave
  • this quest for it is mine, and mine it was or ever it was yours, and
  • therefore I will have it. Sir knight, said Palomides, it may well be
  • that this quest was yours or it was mine, but when the letter was taken
  • out of the dead king’s hand, at that time by likelihood there was no
  • knight had undertaken to revenge the death of the king. And so at that
  • time I promised to revenge his death, and so I shall or else I am
  • ashamed. Ye say well, said the knight, but wit ye well then will I
  • fight with you, and who be the better knight of us both, let him take
  • the battle upon hand. I assent me, said Sir Palomides. And then they
  • dressed their shields, and pulled out their swords, and lashed together
  • many sad strokes as men of might; and this fighting was more than an
  • hour, but at the last Sir Palomides waxed big and better winded, so
  • that then he smote that knight such a stroke that he made him to kneel
  • upon his knees. Then that knight spake on high and said: Gentle knight,
  • hold thy hand. Sir Palomides was goodly and withdrew his hand. Then
  • this knight said: Wit ye well, knight, that thou art better worthy to
  • have this battle than I, and require thee of knighthood tell me thy
  • name. Sir, my name is Palomides, a knight of King Arthur’s, and of the
  • Table Round, that hither I came to revenge the death of this dead king.
  • CHAPTER LXIII. Of the preparation of Sir Palomides and the two brethren
  • that should fight with him.
  • Well be ye found, said the knight to Palomides, for of all knights that
  • be alive, except three, I had liefest have you. The first is Sir
  • Launcelot du Lake, and Sir Tristram de Liones, the third is my nigh
  • cousin, Sir Lamorak de Galis. And I am brother unto King Hermance that
  • is dead, and my name is Sir Hermind. Ye say well, said Sir Palomides,
  • and ye shall see how I shall speed; and if I be there slain go ye to my
  • lord Sir Launcelot, or else to my lord Sir Tristram, and pray them to
  • revenge my death, for as for Sir Lamorak him shall ye never see in this
  • world. Alas, said Sir Hermind, how may that be? He is slain, said Sir
  • Palomides, by Sir Gawaine and his brethren. So God me help, said
  • Hermind, there was not one for one that slew him. That is truth, said
  • Sir Palomides, for they were four dangerous knights that slew him, as
  • Sir Gawaine, Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, and Sir Mordred, but Sir
  • Gareth, the fifth brother was away, the best knight of them all. And so
  • Sir Palomides told Hermind all the manner, and how they slew Sir
  • Lamorak all only by treason.
  • So Sir Palomides took his ship, and arrived up at the Delectable Isle.
  • And in the meanwhile Sir Hermind that was the king’s brother, he
  • arrived up at the Red City, and there he told them how there was come a
  • knight of King Arthur’s to avenge King Hermance’s death: And his name
  • is Sir Palomides, the good knight, that for the most part he followeth
  • the beast Glatisant. Then all the city made great joy, for mickle had
  • they heard of Sir Palomides, and of his noble prowess. So let they
  • ordain a messenger, and sent unto the two brethren, and bade them to
  • make them ready, for there was a knight come that would fight with them
  • both. So the messenger went unto them where they were at a castle there
  • beside; and there he told them how there was a knight come of King
  • Arthur’s court to fight with them both at once. He is welcome, said
  • they; but tell us, we pray you, if it be Sir Launcelot or any of his
  • blood? He is none of that blood, said the messenger. Then we care the
  • less, said the two brethren, for with none of the blood of Sir
  • Launcelot we keep not to have ado withal. Wit ye well, said the
  • messenger, that his name is Sir Palomides, that yet is unchristened, a
  • noble knight. Well, said they, an he be now unchristened he shall never
  • be christened. So they appointed to be at the city within two days.
  • And when Sir Palomides was come to the city they made passing great joy
  • of him, and then they beheld him, and saw that he was well made,
  • cleanly and bigly, and unmaimed of his limbs, and neither too young nor
  • too old. And so all the people praised him; and though he was not
  • christened yet he believed in the best manner, and was full faithful
  • and true of his promise, and well conditioned; and because he made his
  • avow that he would never be christened unto the time that he had
  • achieved the beast Glatisant, the which was a full wonderful beast, and
  • a great signification; for Merlin prophesied much of that beast. And
  • also Sir Palomides avowed never to take full christendom unto the time
  • that he had done seven battles within the lists.
  • So within the third day there came to the city these two brethren, the
  • one hight Helius, the other hight Helake, the which were men of great
  • prowess; howbeit that they were false and full of treason, and but poor
  • men born, yet were they noble knights of their hands. And with them
  • they brought forty knights, to that intent that they should be big
  • enough for the Red City. Thus came the two brethren with great bobaunce
  • and pride, for they had put the Red City in fear and damage. Then they
  • were brought to the lists, and Sir Palomides came into the place and
  • said thus: Be ye the two brethren, Helius and Helake, that slew your
  • king and lord, Sir Hermance, by felony and treason, for whom that I am
  • come hither to revenge his death? Wit thou well, said Sir Helius and
  • Sir Helake, that we are the same knights that slew King Hermance; and
  • wit thou well, Sir Palomides Saracen, that we shall handle thee so or
  • thou depart that thou shalt wish that thou wert christened. It may well
  • be, said Sir Palomides, for yet I would not die or I were christened;
  • and yet so am I not afeard of you both, but I trust to God that I shall
  • die a better christian man than any of you both; and doubt ye not, said
  • Sir Palomides, either ye or I shall be left dead in this place.
  • CHAPTER LXIV. Of the battle between Sir Palomides and the two brethren,
  • and how the two brethren were slain.
  • Then they departed, and the two brethren came against Sir Palomides,
  • and he against them, as fast as their horses might run. And by fortune
  • Sir Palomides smote Helake through his shield and through the breast
  • more than a fathom. All this while Sir Helius held up his spear, and
  • for pride and orgulité he would not smite Sir Palomides with his spear;
  • but when he saw his brother lie on the earth, and saw he might not help
  • himself, then he said unto Sir Palomides: Help thyself. And therewith
  • he came hurtling unto Sir Palomides with his spear, and smote him quite
  • from his saddle. Then Sir Helius rode over Sir Palomides twice or
  • thrice. And therewith Sir Palomides was ashamed, and gat the horse of
  • Sir Helius by the bridle, and therewithal the horse areared, and Sir
  • Palomides halp after, and so they fell both to the earth; but anon Sir
  • Helius stert up lightly, and there he smote Sir Palomides a great
  • stroke upon the helm, that he kneeled upon his own knee. Then they
  • lashed together many sad strokes, and traced and traversed now
  • backward, now sideling, hurtling together like two boars, and that same
  • time they fell both grovelling to the earth.
  • Thus they fought still without any reposing two hours, and never
  • breathed; and then Sir Palomides waxed faint and weary, and Sir Helius
  • waxed passing strong, and doubled his strokes, and drove Sir Palomides
  • overthwart and endlong all the field, that they of the city when they
  • saw Sir Palomides in this case they wept and cried, and made great
  • dole, and the other party made as great joy. Alas, said the men of the
  • city, that this noble knight should thus be slain for our king’s sake.
  • And as they were thus weeping and crying, Sir Palomides that had
  • suffered an hundred strokes, that it was wonder that he stood on his
  • feet, at the last Sir Palomides beheld as he might the common people,
  • how they wept for him; and then he said to himself: Ah, fie for shame,
  • Sir Palomides, why hangest thou thy head so low; and therewith he bare
  • up his shield, and looked Sir Helius in the visage, and he smote him a
  • great stroke upon the helm, and after that another and another. And
  • then he smote Sir Helius with such a might that he fell to the earth
  • grovelling; and then he raced off his helm from his head, and there he
  • smote him such a buffet that he departed his head from the body. And
  • then were the people of the city the joyfullest people that might be.
  • So they brought him to his lodging with great solemnity, and there all
  • the people became his men. And then Sir Palomides prayed them all to
  • take keep unto all the lordship of King Hermance: For, fair sirs, wit
  • ye well I may not as at this time abide with you, for I must in all
  • haste be with my lord King Arthur at the Castle of Lonazep, the which I
  • have promised. Then was the people full heavy at his departing, for all
  • that city proffered Sir Palomides the third part of their goods so that
  • he would abide with them; but in no wise as at that time he would not
  • abide.
  • And so Sir Palomides departed, and so he came unto the castle thereas
  • Sir Ebel was lieutenant. And when they in the castle wist how Sir
  • Palomides had sped, there was a joyful meiny; and so Sir Palomides
  • departed, and came to the castle of Lonazep. And when he wist that Sir
  • Tristram was not there he took his way over Humber, and came unto
  • Joyous Gard, whereas Sir Tristram was and La Beale Isoud. Sir Tristram
  • had commanded that what knight errant came within the Joyous Gard, as
  • in the town, that they should warn Sir Tristram. So there came a man of
  • the town, and told Sir Tristram how there was a knight in the town, a
  • passing goodly man. What manner of man is he, said Sir Tristram, and
  • what sign beareth he? So the man told Sir Tristram all the tokens of
  • him. That is Palomides, said Dinadan. It may well be, said Sir
  • Tristram. Go ye to him, said Sir Tristram unto Dinadan. So Dinadan went
  • unto Sir Palomides, and there either made other great joy, and so they
  • lay together that night. And on the morn early came Sir Tristram and
  • Sir Gareth, and took them in their beds, and so they arose and brake
  • their fast.
  • CHAPTER LXV. How Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides met Breuse Saunce Pité,
  • and how Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud went unto Lonazep.
  • And then Sir Tristram desired Sir Palomides to ride into the fields and
  • woods. So they were accorded to repose them in the forest. And when
  • they had played them a great while they rode unto a fair well; and anon
  • they were ware of an armed knight that came riding against them, and
  • there either saluted other. Then this armed knight spake to Sir
  • Tristram, and asked what were these knights that were lodged in Joyous
  • Gard. I wot not what they are, said Sir Tristram. What knights be ye?
  • said that knight, for meseemeth ye be no knights errant, because ye
  • ride unarmed. Whether we be knights or not we list not to tell thee our
  • name. Wilt thou not tell me thy name? said that knight; then keep thee,
  • for thou shalt die of my hands. And therewith he got his spear in his
  • hands, and would have run Sir Tristram through. That saw Sir Palomides,
  • and smote his horse traverse in midst of the side, that man and horse
  • fell to the earth. And therewith Sir Palomides alighted and pulled out
  • his sword to have slain him. Let be, said Sir Tristram, slay him not,
  • the knight is but a fool, it were shame to slay him. But take away his
  • spear, said Sir Tristram, and let him take his horse and go where that
  • he will.
  • So when this knight arose he groaned sore of the fall, and so he took
  • his horse, and when he was up he turned then his horse, and required
  • Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides to tell him what knights they were. Now
  • wit ye well, said Sir Tristram, that my name is Sir Tristram de Liones,
  • and this knight’s name is Sir Palomides. When he wist what they were he
  • took his horse with the spurs, because they should not ask him his
  • name, and so rode fast away through thick and thin. Then came there by
  • them a knight with a bended shield of azure, whose name was Epinogris,
  • and he came toward them a great wallop. Whither are ye riding? said Sir
  • Tristram. My fair lords, said Epinogris, I follow the falsest knight
  • that beareth the life; wherefore I require you tell me whether ye saw
  • him, for he beareth a shield with a case of red over it. So God me
  • help, said Tristram, such a knight departed from us not a quarter of an
  • hour agone; we pray you tell us his name. Alas, said Epinogris, why let
  • ye him escape from you? and he is so great a foe unto all errant
  • knights: his name is Breuse Saunce Pité. Ah, fie for shame, said Sir
  • Palomides, alas that ever he escaped mine hands, for he is the man in
  • the world that I hate most. Then every knight made great sorrow to
  • other; and so Epinogris departed and followed the chase after him.
  • Then Sir Tristram and his three fellows rode unto Joyous Gard; and
  • there Sir Tristram talked unto Sir Palomides of his battle, how he sped
  • at the Red City, and as ye have heard afore so was it ended. Truly,
  • said Sir Tristram, I am glad ye have well sped, for ye have done
  • worshipfully. Well, said Sir Tristram, we must forward to-morn. And
  • then he devised how it should be; and Sir Tristram devised to send his
  • two pavilions to set them fast by the well of Lonazep, and therein
  • shall be the queen La Beale Isoud. It is well said, said Sir Dinadan,
  • but when Sir Palomides heard of that his heart was ravished out of
  • measure: notwithstanding he said but little. So when they came to
  • Joyous Gard Sir Palomides would not have gone into the castle, but as
  • Sir Tristram took him by the finger, and led him into the castle. And
  • when Sir Palomides saw La Beale Isoud he was ravished so that he might
  • unnethe speak. So they went unto meat, but Palomides might not eat, and
  • there was all the cheer that might be had. And on the morn they were
  • apparelled to ride toward Lonazep.
  • So Sir Tristram had three squires, and La Beale Isoud had three
  • gentlewomen, and both the queen and they were richly apparelled; and
  • other people had they none with them, but varlets to bear their shields
  • and their spears. And thus they rode forth. So as they rode they saw
  • afore them a rout of knights; it was the knight Galihodin with twenty
  • knights with him. Fair fellows, said Galihodin, yonder come four
  • knights, and a rich and a well fair lady: I am in will to take that
  • lady from them. That is not of the best counsel, said one of
  • Galihodin’s men, but send ye to them and wit what they will say; and so
  • it was done. There came a squire unto Sir Tristram, and asked them
  • whether they would joust or else to lose their lady. Not so, said Sir
  • Tristram, tell your lord I bid him come as many as we be, and win her
  • and take her. Sir, said Palomides, an it please you let me have this
  • deed, and I shall undertake them all four. I will that ye have it, said
  • Sir Tristram, at your pleasure. Now go and tell your lord Galihodin,
  • that this same knight will encounter with him and his fellows.
  • CHAPTER LXVI. How Sir Palomides jousted with Sir Galihodin, and after
  • with Sir Gawaine, and smote them down.
  • Then this squire departed and told Galihodin; and then he dressed his
  • shield, and put forth a spear, and Sir Palomides another; and there Sir
  • Palomides smote Galihodin so hard that he smote both horse and man to
  • the earth. And there he had an horrible fall. And then came there
  • another knight, and in the same wise he served him; and so he served
  • the third and the fourth, that he smote them over their horses’ croups,
  • and always Sir Palomides’ spear was whole. Then came six knights more
  • of Galihodin’s men, and would have been avenged upon Sir Palomides. Let
  • be, said Sir Galihodin, not so hardy, none of you all meddle with this
  • knight, for he is a man of great bounté and honour, and if he would ye
  • were not able to meddle with him. And right so they held them still.
  • And ever Sir Palomides was ready to joust; and when he saw they would
  • no more he rode unto Sir Tristram. Right well have ye done, said Sir
  • Tristram, and worshipfully have ye done as a good knight should. This
  • Galihodin was nigh cousin unto Galahalt, the haut prince; and this
  • Galihodin was a king within the country of Surluse.
  • So as Sir Tristram, Sir Palomides, and La Beale Isoud rode together
  • they saw afore them four knights, and every man had his spear in his
  • hand: the first was Sir Gawaine, the second Sir Uwaine, the third Sir
  • Sagramore le Desirous, and the fourth was Dodinas le Savage. When Sir
  • Palomides beheld them, that the four knights were ready to joust, he
  • prayed Sir Tristram to give him leave to have ado with them all so long
  • as he might hold him on horseback. And if that I be smitten down I pray
  • you revenge me. Well, said Sir Tristram, I will as ye will, and ye are
  • not so fain to have worship but I would as fain increase your worship.
  • And therewithal Sir Gawaine put forth his spear, and Sir Palomides
  • another; and so they came so eagerly together that Sir Palomides smote
  • Sir Gawaine to the earth, horse and all; and in the same wise he served
  • Uwaine, Sir Dodinas, and Sagramore. All these four knights Sir
  • Palomides smote down with divers spears And then Sir Tristram departed
  • toward Lonazep.
  • And when they were departed then came thither Galihodin with his ten
  • knights unto Sir Gawaine, and there he told him all how he had sped. I
  • marvel, said Sir Gawaine, what knights they be, that are so arrayed in
  • green. And that knight upon the white horse smote me down, said
  • Galihodin, and my three fellows. And so he did to me, said Gawaine; and
  • well I wot, said Sir Gawaine, that either he upon the white horse is
  • Sir Tristram or else Sir Palomides, and that gay beseen lady is Queen
  • Isoud. Thus they talked of one thing and of other.
  • And in the meanwhile Sir Tristram passed on till that he came to the
  • well where his two pavilions were set; and there they alighted, and
  • there they saw many pavilions and great array. Then Sir Tristram left
  • there Sir Palomides and Sir Gareth with La Beale Isoud, and Sir
  • Tristram and Sir Dinadan rode to Lonazep to hearken tidings; and Sir
  • Tristram rode upon Sir Palomides’ white horse. And when he came into
  • the castle Sir Dinadan heard a great horn blow, and to the horn drew
  • many knights. Then Sir Tristram asked a knight: What meaneth the blast
  • of that horn? Sir, said that knight, it is all those that shall hold
  • against King Arthur at this tournament. The first is the King of
  • Ireland, and the King of Surluse, the King of Listinoise, the King of
  • Northumberland, and the King of the best part of Wales, with many other
  • countries. And these draw them to a council, to understand what
  • governance they shall be of; but the King of Ireland, whose name was
  • Marhalt, and father to the good knight Sir Marhaus that Sir Tristram
  • slew, had all the speech that Sir Tristram might hear it. He said:
  • Lords and fellows, let us look to ourself, for wit ye well King Arthur
  • is sure of many good knights, or else he would not with so few knights
  • have ado with us; therefore by my counsel let every king have a
  • standard and a cognisance by himself, that every knight draw to their
  • natural lord, and then may every king and captain help his knights if
  • they have need. When Sir Tristram had heard all their counsel he rode
  • unto King Arthur for to hear of his counsel.
  • CHAPTER LXVII. How Sir Tristram and his fellowship came into the
  • tournament of Lonazep; and of divers jousts and matters.
  • But Sir Tristram was not so soon come into the place, but Sir Gawaine
  • and Sir Galihodin went to King Arthur, and told him: That same green
  • knight in the green harness with the white horse smote us two down, and
  • six of our fellows this same day. Well, said Arthur. And then he called
  • Sir Tristram and asked him what was his name. Sir, said Sir Tristram,
  • ye shall hold me excused as at this time, for ye shall not wit my name.
  • And there Sir Tristram returned and rode his way. I have marvel, said
  • Arthur, that yonder knight will not tell me his name, but go thou,
  • Griflet le Fise de Dieu, and pray him to speak with me betwixt us. Then
  • Sir Griflet rode after him and overtook him, and said him that King
  • Arthur prayed him for to speak with him secretly apart. Upon this
  • covenant, said Sir Tristram, I will speak with him; that I will turn
  • again so that ye will ensure me not to desire to hear my name. I shall
  • undertake, said Sir Griflet, that he will not greatly desire it of you.
  • So they rode together until they came to King Arthur. Fair sir, said
  • King Arthur, what is the cause ye will not tell me your name? Sir, said
  • Sir Tristram, without a cause I will not hide my name. Upon what party
  • will ye hold? said King Arthur. Truly, my lord, said Sir Tristram, I
  • wot not yet on what party I will be on, until I come to the field, and
  • there as my heart giveth me, there will I hold; but to-morrow ye shall
  • see and prove on what party I shall come. And therewithal he returned
  • and went to his pavilions.
  • And upon the morn they armed them all in green, and came into the
  • field; and there young knights began to joust, and did many worshipful
  • deeds. Then spake Gareth unto Sir Tristram, and prayed him to give him
  • leave to break his spear, for him thought shame to bear his spear whole
  • again. When Sir Tristram heard him say so he laughed, and said: I pray
  • you do your best. Then Sir Gareth gat a spear and proffered to joust.
  • That saw a knight that was nephew unto the King of the Hundred Knights;
  • his name was Selises, and a good man of arms. So this knight Selises
  • then dressed him unto Sir Gareth, and they two met together so hard
  • that either smote other down, his horse and all, to the earth, so they
  • were both bruised and hurt; and there they lay till the King with the
  • Hundred Knights halp Selises up, and Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides
  • halp up Gareth again. And so they rode with Sir Gareth unto their
  • pavilions, and then they pulled off his helm.
  • And when La Beale Isoud saw Sir Gareth bruised in the face she asked
  • him what ailed him. Madam, said Sir Gareth, I had a great buffet, and
  • as I suppose I gave another, but none of my fellows, God thank them,
  • would not rescue me. Forsooth, said Palomides, it longed not to none of
  • us as this day to joust, for there have not this day jousted no proved
  • knights, and needly ye would joust. And when the other party saw ye
  • proffered yourself to joust they sent one to you, a passing good knight
  • of his age, for I know him well, his name is Selises; and worshipfully
  • ye met with him, and neither of you are dishonoured, and therefore
  • refresh yourself that ye may be ready and whole to joust to-morrow. As
  • for that, said Gareth, I shall not fail you an I may bestride mine
  • horse.
  • CHAPTER LXVIII. How Sir Tristram and his fellowship jousted, and of the
  • noble feats that they did in that tourneying.
  • Now upon what party, said Tristram, is it best we be withal as to-morn?
  • Sir, said Palomides, ye shall have mine advice to be against King
  • Arthur as to-morn, for on his party will be Sir Launcelot and many good
  • knights of his blood with him. And the more men of worship that they
  • be, the more worship we shall win. That is full knightly spoken, said
  • Sir Tristram; and right so as ye counsel me, so will we do. In the name
  • of God, said they all. So that night they were lodged with the best.
  • And on the morn when it was day they were arrayed all in green
  • trappings, shields and spears, and La Beale Isoud in the same colour,
  • and her three damosels. And right so these four knights came into the
  • field endlong and through. And so they led La Beale Isoud thither as
  • she should stand and behold all the jousts in a bay window; but always
  • she was wimpled that no man might see her visage. And then these three
  • knights rode straight unto the party of the King of Scots.
  • When King Arthur had seen them do all this he asked Sir Launcelot what
  • were these knights and that queen. Sir, said Launcelot, I cannot say
  • you in certain, but if Sir Tristram be in this country, or Sir
  • Palomides, wit ye well it be they m certain, and La Beale Isoud. Then
  • Arthur called to him Sir Kay and said: Go lightly and wit how many
  • knights there be here lacking of the Table Round, for by the sieges
  • thou mayst know. So went Sir Kay and saw by the writings in the sieges
  • that there lacked ten knights. And these be their names that be not
  • here. Sir Tristram, Sir Palomides, Sir Percivale, Sir Gaheris, Sir
  • Epinogris, Sir Mordred, Sir Dinadan, Sir La Cote Male Taile, and Sir
  • Pelleas the noble knight. Well, said Arthur, some of these I dare
  • undertake are here this day against us.
  • Then came therein two brethren, cousins unto Sir Gawaine, the one hight
  • Sir Edward, that other hight Sir Sadok, the which were two good
  • knights; and they asked of King Arthur that they might have the first
  • jousts, for they were of Orkney. I am pleased, said King Arthur. Then
  • Sir Edward encountered with the King of Scots, in whose party was Sir
  • Tristram and Sir Palomides; and Sir Edward smote the King of Scots
  • quite from his horse, and Sir Sadok smote down the King of North Wales,
  • and gave him a wonder great fall, that there was a great cry on King
  • Arthur’s party, and that made Sir Palomides passing wroth. And so Sir
  • Palomides dressed his shield and his spear, and with all his might he
  • met with Sir Edward of Orkney, that he smote him so hard that his horse
  • might not stand on his feet, and so they hurtled to the earth; and then
  • with the same spear Sir Palomides smote down Sir Sadok over his horse’s
  • croup. O Jesu, said Arthur, what knight is that arrayed all in green?
  • he jousteth mightily. Wit you well, said Sir Gawaine, he is a good
  • knight, and yet shall ye see him joust better or he depart. And yet
  • shall ye see, said Sir Gawaine, another bigger knight, in the same
  • colour, than he is; for that same knight, said Sir Gawaine, that smote
  • down right now my four cousins, he smote me down within these two days,
  • and seven fellows more.
  • This meanwhile as they stood thus talking there came into the place Sir
  • Tristram upon a black horse, and or ever he stint he smote down with
  • one spear four good knights of Orkney that were of the kin of Sir
  • Gawaine; and Sir Gareth and Sir Dinadan everych of them smote down a
  • good knight. Jesu, said Arthur, yonder knight upon the black horse doth
  • mightily and marvellously well. Abide you, said Sir Gawaine; that
  • knight with the black horse began not yet. Then Sir Tristram made to
  • horse again the two kings that Edward and Sadok had unhorsed at the
  • beginning. And then Sir Tristram drew his sword and rode into the
  • thickest of the press against them of Orkney; and there he smote down
  • knights, and rashed off helms, and pulled away their shields, and
  • hurtled down many knights: he fared so that Sir Arthur and all knights
  • had great marvel when they saw one knight do so great deeds of arms.
  • And Sir Palomides failed not upon the other side, but did so
  • marvellously well that all men had wonder. For there King Arthur
  • likened Sir Tristram that was on the black horse like to a wood lion,
  • and likened Sir Palomides upon the white horse unto a wood leopard, and
  • Sir Gareth and Sir Dinadan unto eager wolves. But the custom was such
  • among them that none of the kings would help other, but all the
  • fellowship of every standard to help other as they might; but ever Sir
  • Tristram did so much deeds of arms that they of Orkney waxed weary of
  • him, and so withdrew them unto Lonazep
  • CHAPTER LXIX. How Sir Tristram was unhorsed and smitten down by Sir
  • Launcelot, and after that Sir Tristram smote down King Arthur.
  • Then was the cry of heralds and all manner of common people: The Green
  • Knight hath done marvellously, and beaten all them of Orkney. And there
  • the heralds numbered that Sir Tristram that sat upon the black horse
  • had smitten down with spears and swords thirty knights; and Sir
  • Palomides had smitten down twenty knights, and the most part of these
  • fifty knights were of the house of King Arthur, and proved knights. So
  • God me help, said Arthur unto Sir Launcelot, this is a great shame to
  • us to see four knights beat so many knights of mine; and therefore make
  • you ready, for we will have ado with them. Sir, said Launcelot, wit ye
  • well that there are two passing good knights, and great worship were it
  • not to us now to have ado with them, for they have this day sore
  • travailed. As for that, said Arthur, I will be avenged; and therefore
  • take with you Sir Bleoberis and Sir Ector, and I will be the fourth,
  • said Arthur. Sir, said Launcelot, ye shall find me ready, and my
  • brother Sir Ector, and my cousin Sir Bleoberis. And so when they were
  • ready and on horseback: Now choose, said Sir Arthur unto Sir Launcelot,
  • with whom that ye will encounter withal. Sir, said Launcelot, I will
  • meet with the green knight upon the black horse, that was Sir Tristram;
  • and my cousin Sir Bleoberis shall match the green knight upon the white
  • horse, that was Sir Palomides; and my brother Sir Ector shall match
  • with the green knight upon the white horse, that was Sir Gareth. Then
  • must I, said Sir Arthur, have ado with the green knight upon the
  • grisled horse, and that was Sir Dinadan. Now every man take heed to his
  • fellow, said Sir Launcelot. And so they trotted on together, and there
  • encountered Sir Launcelot against Sir Tristram. So Sir Launcelot smote
  • Sir Tristram so sore upon the shield that he bare horse and man to the
  • earth; but Sir Launcelot weened that it had been Sir Palomides, and so
  • he passed forth. And then Sir Bleoberis encountered with Sir Palomides,
  • and he smote him so hard upon the shield that Sir Palomides and his
  • white horse rustled to the earth. Then Sir Ector de Maris smote Sir
  • Gareth so hard that down he fell off his horse. And the noble King
  • Arthur encountered with Sir Dinadan, and he smote him quite from his
  • saddle. And then the noise turned awhile how the green knights were
  • slain down.
  • When the King of Northgalis saw that Sir Tristram had a fall, then he
  • remembered him how great deeds of arms Sir Tristram had done. Then he
  • made ready many knights, for the custom and cry was such, that what
  • knight were smitten down, and might not be horsed again by his fellows,
  • outher by his own strength, that as that day he should be prisoner unto
  • the party that had smitten him down. So came in the King of Northgalis,
  • and he rode straight unto Sir Tristram; and when he came nigh him he
  • alighted down suddenly and betook Sir Tristram his horse, and said
  • thus: Noble knight, I know thee not of what country that thou art, but
  • for the noble deeds that thou hast done this day take there my horse,
  • and let me do as well I may; for, as Jesu me help, thou art better
  • worthy to have mine horse than I myself. Gramercy, said Sir Tristram,
  • and if I may I shall quite you: look that ye go not far from us, and as
  • I suppose, I shall win you another horse. And therewith Sir Tristram
  • mounted upon his horse, and there he met with King Arthur, and he gave
  • him such a buffet upon the helm with his sword that King Arthur had no
  • power to keep his saddle. And then Sir Tristram gave the King of
  • Northgalis King Arthur’s horse: then was there great press about King
  • Arthur for to horse him again; but Sir Palomides would not suffer King
  • Arthur to be horsed again, but ever Sir Palomides smote on the right
  • hand and on the left hand mightily as a noble knight. And this
  • meanwhile Sir Tristram rode through the thickest of the press, and
  • smote down knights on the right hand and on the left hand, and raced
  • off helms, and so passed forth unto his pavilions, and left Sir
  • Palomides on foot; and Sir Tristram changed his horse and disguised
  • himself all in red, horse and harness.
  • CHAPTER LXX. How Sir Tristram changed his harness and it was all red,
  • and how he demeaned him, and how Sir Palomides slew Launcelot’s horse.
  • And when the queen La Beale Isoud saw that Sir Tristram was unhorsed,
  • and she wist not where he was, then she wept greatly. But Sir Tristram,
  • when he was ready, came dashing lightly into the field, and then La
  • Beale Isoud espied him. And so he did great deeds of arms; with one
  • spear, that was great, Sir Tristram smote down five knights or ever he
  • stint. Then Sir Launcelot espied him readily, that it was Sir Tristram,
  • and then he repented him that he had smitten him down; and so Sir
  • Launcelot went out of the press to repose him and lightly he came
  • again. And now when Sir Tristram came into the press, through his great
  • force he put Sir Palomides upon his horse, and Sir Gareth, and Sir
  • Dinadan, and then they began to do marvellously; but Sir Palomides nor
  • none of his two fellows knew not who had holpen them on horseback
  • again. But ever Sir Tristram was nigh them and succoured them, and they
  • [knew] not him, because he was changed into red armour: and all this
  • while Sir Launcelot was away.
  • So when La Beale Isoud knew Sir Tristram again upon his horse-back she
  • was passing glad, and then she laughed and made good cheer. And as it
  • happened, Sir Palomides looked up toward her where she lay in the
  • window, and he espied how she laughed; and therewith he took such a
  • rejoicing that he smote down, what with his spear and with his sword,
  • all that ever he met; for through the sight of her he was so enamoured
  • in her love that he seemed at that time, that an both Sir Tristram and
  • Sir Launcelot had been both against him they should have won no worship
  • of him; and in his heart, as the book saith, Sir Palomides wished that
  • with his worship he might have ado with Sir Tristram before all men,
  • because of La Beale Isoud. Then Sir Palomides began to double his
  • strength, and he did so marvellously that all men had wonder of him,
  • and ever he cast up his eye unto La Beale Isoud. And when he saw her
  • make such cheer he fared like a lion, that there might no man withstand
  • him; and then Sir Tristram beheld him, how that Sir Palomides bestirred
  • him; and then he said unto Sir Dinadan: So God me help, Sir Palomides
  • is a passing good knight and a well enduring, but such deeds saw I him
  • never do, nor never heard I tell that ever he did so much in one day.
  • It is his day, said Dinadan; and he would say no more unto Sir
  • Tristram; but to himself he said: An if ye knew for whose love he doth
  • all those deeds of arms, soon would Sir Tristram abate his courage.
  • Alas, said Sir Tristram, that Sir Palomides is not christened. So said
  • King Arthur, and so said all those that beheld him. Then all people
  • gave him the prize, as for the best knight that day, that he passed Sir
  • Launcelot outher Sir Tristram. Well, said Dinadan to himself, all this
  • worship that Sir Palomides hath here this day he may thank the Queen
  • Isoud, for had she been away this day Sir Palomides had not gotten the
  • prize this day.
  • Right so came into the field Sir Launcelot du Lake, and saw and heard
  • the noise and cry and the great worship that Sir Palomides had. He
  • dressed him against Sir Palomides, with a great mighty spear and a
  • long, and thought to smite him down. And when Sir Palomides saw Sir
  • Launcelot come upon him so fast, he ran upon Sir Launcelot as fast with
  • his sword as he might; and as Sir Launcelot should have stricken him he
  • smote his spear aside, and smote it a-two with his sword. And Sir
  • Palomides rushed unto Sir Launcelot, and thought to have put him to a
  • shame; and with his sword he smote his horse’s neck that Sir Launcelot
  • rode upon, and then Sir Launcelot fell to the earth. Then was the cry
  • huge and great: See how Sir Palomides the Saracen hath smitten down Sir
  • Launcelot’s horse. Right then were there many knights wroth with Sir
  • Palomides because he had done that deed; therefore many knights held
  • there against that it was unknightly done in a tournament to kill an
  • horse wilfully, but that it had been done in plain battle, life for
  • life.
  • CHAPTER LXXI. How Sir Launcelot said to Sir Palomides, and how the
  • prize of that day was given unto Sir Palomides.
  • When Sir Ector de Maris saw Sir Launcelot his brother have such a
  • despite, and so set on foot, then he gat a spear eagerly, and ran
  • against Sir Palomides, and he smote him so hard that he bare him quite
  • from his horse. That saw Sir Tristram, that was in red harness, and he
  • smote down Sir Ector de Maris quite from his horse. Then Sir Launcelot
  • dressed his shield upon his shoulder, and with his sword naked in his
  • hand, and so came straight upon Sir Palomides fiercely and said: Wit
  • thou well thou hast done me this day the greatest despite that ever any
  • worshipful knight did to me in tournament or in jousts, and therefore I
  • will be avenged upon thee, therefore take keep to yourself. Ah, mercy,
  • noble knight, said Palomides, and forgive me mine unkindly deeds, for I
  • have no power nor might to withstand you, and I have done so much this
  • day that well I wot I did never so much, nor never shall in my
  • life-days; and therefore, most noble knight, I require thee spare me as
  • at this day, and I promise you I shall ever be your knight while I
  • live: an ye put me from my worship now, ye put me from the greatest
  • worship that ever I had or ever shall have in my life-days. Well, said
  • Sir Launcelot, I see, for to say thee sooth, ye have done marvellously
  • well this day; and I understand a part for whose love ye do it, and
  • well I wot that love is a great mistress. And if my lady were here as
  • she nis not, wit you well, said Sir Launcelot, ye should not bear away
  • the worship. But beware your love be not discovered, for an Sir
  • Tristram may know it ye will repent it; and sithen my quarrel is not
  • here, ye shall have this day the worship as for me; considering the
  • great travail and pain that ye have had this day, it were no worship
  • for me to put you from it. And therewithal Sir Launcelot suffered Sir
  • Palomides to depart.
  • Then Sir Launcelot by great force and might gat his own horse maugre
  • twenty knights. So when Sir Launcelot was horsed he did many marvels,
  • and so did Sir Tristram, and Sir Palomides in like wise. Then Sir
  • Launcelot smote down with a spear Sir Dinadan, and the King of
  • Scotland, and the King of Wales, and the King of Northumberland, and
  • the King of Listinoise. So then Sir Launcelot and his fellows smote
  • down well a forty knights. Then came the King of Ireland and the King
  • of the Straight Marches to rescue Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides. There
  • began a great medley, and many knights were smitten down on both
  • parties; and always Sir Launcelot spared Sir Tristram, and he spared
  • him. And Sir Palomides would not meddle with Sir Launcelot, and so
  • there was hurtling here and there. And then King Arthur sent out many
  • knights of the Table Round; and Sir Palomides was ever in the foremost
  • front, and Sir Tristram did so strongly well that the king and all
  • other had marvel. And then the king let blow to lodging; and because
  • Sir Palomides began first, and never he went nor rode out of the field
  • to repose, but ever he was doing marvellously well either on foot or on
  • horseback, and longest during, King Arthur and all the kings gave Sir
  • Palomides the honour and the gree as for that day.
  • Then Sir Tristram commanded Sir Dinadan to fetch the queen La Beale
  • Isoud, and bring her to his two pavilions that stood by the well. And
  • so Dinadan did as he was commanded. But when Sir Palomides understood
  • and wist that Sir Tristram was in the red armour, and on a red horse,
  • wit ye well that he was glad, and so was Sir Gareth and Sir Dinadan,
  • for they all weened that Sir Tristram had been taken prisoner. And then
  • every knight drew to his inn. And then King Arthur and every knight
  • spake of those knights; but above all men they gave Sir Palomides the
  • prize, and all knights that knew Sir Palomides had wonder of his deeds.
  • Sir, said Sir Launcelot unto Arthur, as for Sir Palomides an he be the
  • green knight I dare say as for this day he is best worthy to have the
  • degree, for he reposed him never, nor never changed his weeds, and he
  • began first and longest held on. And yet, well I wot, said Sir
  • Launcelot, that there was a better knight than he, and that shall be
  • proved or we depart, upon pain of my life. Thus they talked on either
  • party; and so Sir Dinadan railed with Sir Tristram and said: What the
  • devil is upon thee this day? for Sir Palomides’ strength feebled never
  • this day, but ever he doubled his strength.
  • CHAPTER LXXII. How Sir Dinadan provoked Sir Tristram to do well.
  • And thou, Sir Tristram, farest all this day as though thou hadst been
  • asleep, and therefore I call thee coward. Well, Dinadan, said Sir
  • Tristram, I was never called coward or now of no earthly knight in my
  • life; and wit thou well, sir, I call myself never the more coward
  • though Sir Launcelot gave me a fall, for I outcept him of all knights.
  • And doubt ye not Sir Dinadan, an Sir Launcelot have a quarrel good, he
  • is too over good for any knight that now is living; and yet of his
  • sufferance, largess, bounty, and courtesy, I call him knight peerless:
  • and so Sir Tristram was in manner wroth with Sir Dinadan. But all this
  • language Sir Dinadan said because he would anger Sir Tristram, for to
  • cause him to awake his spirits and to be wroth; for well knew Sir
  • Dinadan that an Sir Tristram were thoroughly wroth Sir Palomides should
  • not get the prize upon the morn. And for this intent Sir Dinadan said
  • all this railing and language against Sir Tristram. Truly, said Sir
  • Palomides, as for Sir Launcelot, of his noble knighthood, courtesy, and
  • prowess, and gentleness, I know not his peer; for this day, said Sir
  • Palomides, I did full uncourteously unto Sir Launcelot, and full
  • unknightly, and full knightly and courteously he did to me again; for
  • an he had been as ungentle to me as I was to him, this day I had won no
  • worship. And therefore, said Palomides, I shall be Sir Launcelot’s
  • knight while my life lasteth. This talking was in the houses of kings.
  • But all kings, lords, and knights, said, of clear knighthood, and of
  • pure strength, of bounty, of courtesy, Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristram
  • bare the prize above all knights that ever were in Arthur’s days. And
  • there were never knights in Arthur’s days did half so many deeds as
  • they did; as the book saith, no ten knights did not half the deeds that
  • they did, and there was never knight in their days that required Sir
  • Launcelot or Sir Tristram of any quest, so it were not to their shame,
  • but they performed their desire.
  • CHAPTER LXXIII. How King Arthur and Sir Lancelot came to see La Beale
  • Isoud, and how Palomides smote down King Arthur.
  • So on the morn Sir Launcelot departed, and Sir Tristram was ready, and
  • La Beale Isoud with Sir Palomides and Sir Gareth. And so they rode all
  • in green full freshly beseen unto the forest. And Sir Tristram left Sir
  • Dinadan sleeping in his bed. And so as they rode it happed the king and
  • Launcelot stood in a window, and saw Sir Tristram ride and Isoud. Sir,
  • said Launcelot, yonder rideth the fairest lady of the world except your
  • queen, Dame Guenever. Who is that? said Sir Arthur. Sir, said he, it is
  • Queen Isoud that, out-taken my lady your queen, she is makeless. Take
  • your horse, said Arthur, and array you at all rights as I will do, and
  • I promise you, said the king, I will see her. Then anon they were armed
  • and horsed, and either took a spear and rode unto the forest. Sir, said
  • Launcelot, it is not good that ye go too nigh them, for wit ye well
  • there are two as good knights as now are living, and therefore, sir, I
  • pray you be not too hasty. For peradventure there will be some knights
  • be displeased an we come suddenly upon them. As for that, said Arthur,
  • I will see her, for I take no force whom I grieve. Sir, said Launcelot,
  • ye put yourself in great jeopardy. As for that, said the king, we will
  • take the adventure. Right so anon the king rode even to her, and
  • saluted her, and said: God you save. Sir, said she, ye are welcome.
  • Then the king beheld her, and liked her wonderly well.
  • With that came Sir Palomides unto Arthur, and said: Uncourteous knight,
  • what seekest thou here? thou art uncourteous to come upon a lady thus
  • suddenly, therefore withdraw thee. Sir Arthur took none heed of Sir
  • Palomides’ words, but ever he looked still upon Queen Isoud Then was
  • Sir Palomides wroth, and therewith he took a spear, and came hurtling
  • upon King Arthur, and smote him down with a spear. When Sir Launcelot
  • saw that despite of Sir Palomides, he said to himself: I am loath to
  • have ado with yonder knight, and not for his own sake but for Sir
  • Tristram. And one thing I am sure of, if I smite down Sir Palomides I
  • must have ado with Sir Tristram, and that were overmuch for me to match
  • them both, for they are two noble knights; notwithstanding, whether I
  • live or I die, needs must I revenge my lord, and so will I, whatsomever
  • befall of me. And therewith Sir Launcelot cried to Sir Palomides: Keep
  • thee from me. And then Sir Launcelot and Sir Palomides rushed together
  • with two spears strongly, but Sir Launcelot smote Sir Palomides so hard
  • that he went quite out of his saddle, and had a great fall. When Sir
  • Tristram saw Sir Palomides have that fall, he said to Sir Launcelot:
  • Sir knight, keep thee, for I must joust with thee. As for to joust with
  • me, said Sir Launcelot, I will not fail you, for no dread I have of
  • you; but I am loath to have ado with you an I might choose, for I will
  • that ye wit that I must revenge my special lord that was unhorsed
  • unwarly and unknightly. And therefore, though I revenged that fall,
  • take ye no displeasure therein, for he is to me such a friend that I
  • may not see him shamed.
  • Anon Sir Tristram understood by his person and by his knightly words
  • that it was Sir Launcelot du Lake, and verily Sir Tristram deemed that
  • it was King Arthur, he that Sir Palomides had smitten down. And then
  • Sir Tristram put his spear from him, and put Sir Palomides again on
  • horseback, and Sir Launcelot put King Arthur on horseback and so
  • departed. So God me help, said Sir Tristram unto Palomides, ye did not
  • worshipfully when ye smote down that knight so suddenly as ye did. And
  • wit ye well ye did yourself great shame, for the knights came hither of
  • their gentleness to see a fair lady; and that is every good knight’s
  • part, to behold a fair lady; and ye had not ado to play such masteries
  • afore my lady. Wit thou well it will turn to anger, for he that ye
  • smote down was King Arthur, and that other was the good knight Sir
  • Launcelot. But I shall not forget the words of Sir Launcelot when that
  • he called him a man of great worship, thereby I wist that it was King
  • Arthur. And as for Sir Launcelot, an there had been five hundred
  • knights in the meadow, he would not have refused them, and yet he said
  • he would refuse me. By that again I wist that it was Sir Launcelot, for
  • ever he forbeareth me in every place, and showeth me great kindness;
  • and of all knights, I out-take none, say what men will say, he beareth
  • the flower of all chivalry, say it him whosomever will. An he be well
  • angered, and that him list to do his utterance without any favour, I
  • know him not alive but Sir Launcelot is over hard for him, be it on
  • horseback or on foot. I may never believe, said Palomides, that King
  • Arthur will ride so privily as a poor errant knight. Ah, said Sir
  • Tristram, ye know not my lord Arthur, for all knights may learn to be a
  • knight of him. And therefore ye may be sorry, said Sir Tristram, of
  • your unkindly deeds to so noble a king. And a thing that is done may
  • not be undone, said Palomides. Then Sir Tristram sent Queen Isoud unto
  • her lodging in the priory, there to behold all the tournament.
  • CHAPTER LXXIV. How the second day Palomides forsook Sir Tristram, and
  • went to the contrary part against him.
  • Then there was a cry unto all knights, that when they heard an horn
  • blow they should make jousts as they did the first day. And like as the
  • brethren Sir Edward and Sir Sadok began the jousts the first day, Sir
  • Uwaine the king’s son Urien and Sir Lucanere de Buttelere began the
  • jousts the second day. And at the first encounter
  • Sir Uwaine smote down the King’s son of Scots; and Sir Lucanere ran
  • against the King of Wales, and they brake their spears all to pieces;
  • and they were so fierce both, that they hurtled together that both fell
  • to the earth. Then they of Orkney horsed again Sir Lucanere. And then
  • came in Sir Tristram de Liones; and then Sir Tristram smote down Sir
  • Uwaine and Sir Lucanere; and Sir Palomides smote down other two knights
  • and Sir Gareth smote down other two knights. Then said Sir Arthur unto
  • Sir Launcelot: See yonder three knights do passingly well, and namely
  • the first that jousted. Sir, said Launcelot, that knight began not yet
  • but ye shall see him this day do marvellously. And then came into the
  • place the duke’s son of Orkney, and then they began to do many deeds of
  • arms.
  • When Sir Tristram saw them so begin, he said to Palomides: How feel ye
  • yourself? may ye do this day as ye did yesterday? Nay, said Palomides,
  • I feel myself so weary, and so sore bruised of the deeds of yesterday,
  • that I may not endure as I did yesterday. That me repenteth, said Sir
  • Tristram, for I shall lack you this day. Sir Palomides said: Trust not
  • to me, for I may not do as I did. All these words said Palomides for to
  • beguile Sir Tristram. Sir, said Sir Tristram unto Sir Gareth, then must
  • I trust upon you; wherefore I pray you be not far from me to rescue me.
  • An need be, said Sir Gareth, I shall not fail you in all that I may do.
  • Then Sir Palomides rode by himself; and then in despite of Sir Tristram
  • he put himself in the thickest press among them of Orkney, and there he
  • did so marvellously deeds of arms that all men had wonder of him, for
  • there might none stand him a stroke.
  • When Sir Tristram saw Sir Palomides do such deeds, he marvelled and
  • said to himself: He is weary of my company. So Sir Tristram beheld him
  • a great while and did but little else, for the noise and cry was so
  • huge and great that Sir Tristram marvelled from whence came the
  • strength that Sir Palomides had there in the field Sir, said Sir Gareth
  • unto Sir Tristram, remember ye not of the words that Sir Dinadan said
  • to you yesterday, when he called you a coward; forsooth, sir, he said
  • it for none ill, for ye are the man in the world that he most loveth,
  • and all that he said was for your worship. And therefore, said Sir
  • Gareth to Sir Tristram, let me know this day what ye be; and wonder ye
  • not so upon Sir Palomides, for he enforceth himself to win all the
  • worship and honour from you. I may well believe it, said Sir Tristram.
  • And sithen I understand his evil will and his envy, ye shall see, if
  • that I enforce myself, that the noise shall be left that now is upon
  • him.
  • Then Sir Tristram rode into the thickest of the press, and then he did
  • so marvellously well, and did so great deeds of arms, that all men said
  • that Sir Tristram did double so much deeds of arms as Sir Palomides had
  • done aforehand. And then the noise went plain from Sir Palomides, and
  • all the people cried upon Sir Tristram. O Jesu, said the people, see
  • how Sir Tristram smiteth down with his spear so many knights. And see,
  • said they all, how many knights he smiteth down with his sword, and of
  • how many knights he rashed off their helms and their shields; and so he
  • beat them all of Orkney afore him. How now, said Sir Launcelot unto
  • King Arthur, I told you that this day there would a knight play his
  • pageant. Yonder rideth a knight ye may see he doth knightly, for he
  • hath strength and wind. So God me help, said Arthur to Launcelot, ye
  • say sooth, for I saw never a better knight, for he passeth far Sir
  • Palomides. Sir, wit ye well, said Launcelot, it must be so of right,
  • for it is himself, that noble knight Sir Tristram. I may right well
  • believe it, said Arthur.
  • But when Sir Palomides heard the noise and the cry was turned from him,
  • he rode out on a part and beheld Sir Tristram. And when Sir Palomides
  • saw Sir Tristram do so marvellously well he wept passingly sore for
  • despite, for he wist well he should no worship win that day; for well
  • knew Sir Palomides, when Sir Tristram would put forth his strength and
  • his manhood, be should get but little worship that day.
  • CHAPTER LXXV. How Sir Tristram departed of the field, and awaked Sir
  • Dinadan, and changed his array into black.
  • Then came King Arthur, and the King of Northgalis, and Sir Launcelot du
  • Lake; and Sir Bleoberis, Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Ector de Maris, these
  • three knights came into the field with Sir Launcelot. And then Sir
  • Launcelot with the three knights of his kin did so great deeds of arms
  • that all the noise began upon Sir Launcelot. And so they beat the King
  • of Wales and the King of Scots far aback, and made them to avoid the
  • field; but Sir Tristram and Sir Gareth abode still in the field and
  • endured all that ever there came, that all men had wonder that any
  • knight might endure so many strokes. But ever Sir Launcelot, and his
  • three kinsmen by the commandment of Sir Launcelot, forbare Sir
  • Tristram. Then said Sir Arthur: Is that Sir Palomides that endureth so
  • well? Nay, said Sir Launcelot, wit ye well it is the good knight Sir
  • Tristram, for yonder ye may see Sir Palomides beholdeth and hoveth, and
  • doth little or nought. And sir, ye shall understand that Sir Tristram
  • weeneth this day to beat us all out of the field. And as for me, said
  • Sir Launcelot, I shall not beat him, beat him whoso will. Sir, said
  • Launcelot unto Arthur, ye may see how Sir Palomides hoveth yonder, as
  • though he were in a dream; wit ye well he is full heavy that Tristram
  • doth such deeds of arms Then is he but a fool, said Arthur, for never
  • was Sir Palomides, nor never shall be, of such prowess as Sir Tristram.
  • And if he have any envy at Sir Tristram, and cometh in with him upon
  • his side he is a false knight.
  • As the king and Sir Launcelot thus spake, Sir Tristram rode privily out
  • of the press, that none espied him but La Beale Isoud and Sir
  • Palomides, for they two would not let off their eyes upon Sir Tristram.
  • And when Sir Tristram came to his pavilions he found Sir Dinadan in his
  • bed asleep. Awake, said Tristram, ye ought to be ashamed so to sleep
  • when knights have ado in the field. Then Sir Dinadan arose lightly and
  • said: What will ye that I shall do? Make you ready, said Sir Tristram,
  • to ride with me into the field. So when Sir Dinadan was armed he looked
  • upon Sir Tristram’s helm and on his shield, and when he saw so many
  • strokes upon his helm and upon his shield he said: In good time was I
  • thus asleep, for had I been with you I must needs for shame there have
  • followed you; more for shame than any prowess that is in me; that I see
  • well now by those strokes that I should have been truly beaten as I was
  • yesterday. Leave your japes, said Sir Tristram, and come off, that [we]
  • were in the field again. What, said Sir Dinadan, is your heart up?
  • yesterday ye fared as though ye had dreamed. So then Sir Tristram was
  • arrayed in black harness. O Jesu, said Dinadan, what aileth you this
  • day? meseemeth ye be wilder than ye were yesterday. Then smiled Sir
  • Tristram and said to Dinadan: Await well upon me; if ye see me
  • overmatched look that ye be ever behind me, and I shall make you ready
  • way by God’s grace. So Sir Tristram and Sir Dinadan took their horses.
  • All this espied Sir Palomides, both their going and their coming, and
  • so did La Beale Isoud, for she knew Sir Tristram above all other.
  • CHAPTER LXXVI. How Sir Palomides changed his shield and his armour for
  • to hurt Sir Tristram, and how Sir Launcelot did to Sir Tristram.
  • Then when Sir Palomides saw that Sir Tristram was disguised, then he
  • thought to do him a shame. So Sir Palomides rode to a knight that was
  • sore wounded, that sat under a fair well from the field. Sir knight,
  • said Sir Palomides, I pray you to lend me your armour and your shield,
  • for mine is over-well known in this field, and that hath done me great
  • damage; and ye shall have mine armour and my shield that is as sure as
  • yours. I will well, said the knight, that ye have mine armour and my
  • shield, if they may do you any avail. So Sir Palomides armed him
  • hastily in that knight’s armour and his shield that shone as any
  • crystal or silver, and so he came riding into the field. And then there
  • was neither Sir Tristram nor none of King Arthur’s party that knew Sir
  • Palomides. And right so as Sir Palomides was come into the field Sir
  • Tristram smote down three knights, even in the sight of Sir Palomides.
  • And then Sir Palomides rode against Sir Tristram, and either met other
  • with great spears, that they brast to their hands. And then they dashed
  • together with swords eagerly. Then Sir Tristram had marvel what knight
  • he was that did battle so knightly with him. Then was Sir Tristram
  • wroth, for he felt him passing strong, so that he deemed he might not
  • have ado with the remnant of the knights, because of the strength of
  • Sir Palomides. So they lashed together and gave many sad strokes
  • together, and many knights marvelled what knight he might be that so
  • encountered with the black knight, Sir Tristram. Full well knew La
  • Beale Isoud that there was Sir Palomides that fought with Sir Tristram,
  • for she espied all in her window where that she stood, as Sir Palomides
  • changed his harness with the wounded knight. And then she began to weep
  • so heartily for the despite of Sir Palomides that there she swooned.
  • Then came in Sir Launcelot with the knights of Orkney. And when the
  • other party had espied Sir Launcelot, they cried: Return, return, here
  • cometh Sir Launcelot du Lake. So there came knights and said: Sir
  • Launcelot, ye must needs fight with yonder knight in the black harness,
  • that was Sir Tristram, for he hath almost overcome that good knight
  • that fighteth with him with the silver shield, that was Sir Palomides.
  • Then Sir Launcelot rode betwixt Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides, and Sir
  • Launcelot said to Palomides: Sir knight, let me have the battle, for ye
  • have need to be reposed. Sir Palomides knew Sir Launcelot well, and so
  • did Sir Tristram, but because Sir Launcelot was far hardier knight than
  • himself therefore he was glad, and suffered Sir Launcelot to fight with
  • Sir Tristram. For well wist he that Sir Launcelot knew not Sir
  • Tristram, and there he hoped that Sir Launcelot should beat or shame
  • Sir Tristram, whereof Sir Palomides was full fain. And so Sir Launcelot
  • gave Sir Tristram many sad strokes, but Sir Launcelot knew not Sir
  • Tristram, but Sir Tristram knew well Sir Launcelot. And thus they
  • fought long together, that La Beale Isoud was well-nigh out of her mind
  • for sorrow.
  • Then Sir Dinadan told Sir Gareth how that knight in the black harness
  • was Sir Tristram: And this is Launcelot that fighteth with him, that
  • must needs have the better of him, for Sir Tristram hath had too much
  • travail this day. Then let us smite him down, said Sir Gareth. So it is
  • better that we do, said Sir Dinadan, than Sir Tristram be shamed, for
  • yonder hoveth the strong knight with the silver shield to fall upon Sir
  • Tristram if need be. Then forthwithal Gareth rushed upon Sir Launcelot,
  • and gave him a great stroke upon his helm so hard that he was astonied.
  • And then came Sir Dinadan with a spear, and he smote Sir Launcelot such
  • a buffet that horse and all fell to the earth. O Jesu, said Sir
  • Tristram to Sir Gareth and Sir Dinadan, fie for shame, why did ye smite
  • down so good a knight as he is, and namely when I had ado with him? now
  • ye do yourself great shame, and him no disworship; for I held him
  • reasonable hot, though ye had not holpen me.
  • Then came Sir Palomides that was disguised, and smote down Sir Dinadan
  • from his horse. Then Sir Launcelot, because Sir Dinadan had smitten him
  • aforehand, then Sir Launcelot assailed Sir Dinadan passing sore, and
  • Sir Dinadan defended him mightily. But well understood Sir Tristram
  • that Sir Dinadan might not endure Sir Launcelot, wherefore Sir Tristram
  • was sorry. Then came Sir Palomides fresh upon Sir Tristram. And when
  • Sir Tristram saw him come, he thought to deliver him at once, because
  • that he would help Sir Dinadan, because he stood in great peril with
  • Sir Launcelot. Then Sir Tristram hurtled unto Sir Palomides and gave
  • him a great buffet, and then Sir Tristram gat Sir Palomides and pulled
  • him down underneath him. And so fell Sir Tristram with him; and Sir
  • Tristram leapt up lightly and left Sir Palomides, and went betwixt Sir
  • Launcelot and Dinadan, and then they began to do battle together.
  • Right so Sir Dinadan gat Sir Tristram’s horse, and said on high that
  • Sir Launcelot might hear it: My lord Sir Tristram, take your horse. And
  • when Sir Launcelot heard him name Sir Tristram: O Jesu, said Launcelot,
  • what have I done? I am dishonoured. Ah, my lord Sir Tristram, said
  • Launcelot, why were ye disguised? ye have put yourself in great peril
  • this day; but I pray you noble knight to pardon me, for an I had known
  • you we had not done this battle. Sir, said Sir Tristram, this is not
  • the first kindness ye showed me. So they were both horsed again.
  • Then all the people on the one side gave Sir Launcelot the honour and
  • the degree, and on the other side all the people gave to the noble
  • knight Sir Tristram the honour and the degree; but Launcelot said nay
  • thereto: For I am not worthy to have this honour, for I will report me
  • unto all knights that Sir Tristram hath been longer in the field than
  • I, and he hath smitten down many more knights this day than I have
  • done. And therefore I will give Sir Tristram my voice and my name, and
  • so I pray all my lords and fellows so to do. Then there was the whole
  • voice of dukes and earls, barons and knights, that Sir Tristram this
  • day is proved the best knight.
  • CHAPTER LXXVII. How Sir Tristram departed with La Beale Isoud, and how
  • Palomides followed and excused him.
  • Then they blew unto lodging, and Queen Isoud was led unto her
  • pavilions. But wit you well she was wroth out of measure with Sir
  • Palomides, for she saw all his treason from the beginning to the
  • ending. And all this while neither Sir Tristram, neither Sir Gareth nor
  • Dinadan, knew not of the treason of Sir Palomides; but afterward ye
  • shall hear that there befell the greatest debate betwixt Sir Tristram
  • and Sir Palomides that might be.
  • So when the tournament was done, Sir Tristram, Gareth, and Dinadan,
  • rode with La Beale Isoud to these pavilions. And ever Sir Palomides
  • rode with them in their company disguised as he was. But when Sir
  • Tristram had espied him that he was the same knight with the shield of
  • silver that held him so hot that day: Sir knight, said Sir Tristram,
  • wit ye well here is none that hath need of your fellowship, and
  • therefore I pray you depart from us. Sir Palomides answered again as
  • though he had not known Sir Tristram: Wit you well, sir knight, from
  • this fellowship will I never depart, for one of the best knights of the
  • world commanded me to be in this company, and till he discharge me of
  • my service I will not be discharged. By that Sir Tristram knew that it
  • was Sir Palomides. Ah, Sir Palomides, said the noble knight Sir
  • Tristram, are ye such a knight? Ye have been named wrong, for ye have
  • long been called a gentle knight, and as this day ye have showed me
  • great ungentleness, for ye had almost brought me unto my death. But, as
  • for you, I suppose I should have done well enough, but Sir Launcelot
  • with you was overmuch; for I know no knight living but Sir Launcelot is
  • over good for him, an he will do his uttermost. Alas, said Sir
  • Palomides, are ye my lord Sir Tristram? Yea, sir, and that ye know well
  • enough. By my knighthood, said Palomides, until now I knew you not; I
  • weened that ye had been the King of Ireland, for well I wot ye bare his
  • arms. His arms I bare, said Sir Tristram, and that will I stand by, for
  • I won them once in a field of a full noble knight, his name was Sir
  • Marhaus; and with great pain I won that knight, for there was none
  • other recover, but Sir Marhaus died through false leeches; and yet was
  • he never yolden to me. Sir, said Palomides, I weened ye had been turned
  • upon Sir Launcelot’s party, and that caused me to turn. Ye say well,
  • said Sir Tristram, and so I take you, and I forgive you.
  • So then they rode into their pavilions; and when they were alighted
  • they unarmed them and washed their faces and hands, and so yode unto
  • meat, and were set at their table. But when Isoud saw Sir Palomides she
  • changed then her colours, and for wrath she might not speak. Anon Sir
  • Tristram espied her countenance and said: Madam, for what cause make ye
  • us such cheer? we have been sore travailed this day. Mine own lord,
  • said La Beale Isoud, for God’s sake be ye not displeased with me, for I
  • may none otherwise do; for I saw this day how ye were betrayed and nigh
  • brought to your death. Truly, sir, I saw every deal, how and in what
  • wise, and therefore, sir, how should I suffer in your presence such a
  • felon and traitor as Sir Palomides; for I saw him with mine eyes, how
  • he beheld you when ye went out of the field. For ever he hoved still
  • upon his horse till he saw you come in againward. And then forthwithal
  • I saw him ride to the hurt knight, and changed harness with him, and
  • then straight I saw him how he rode into the field. And anon as he had
  • found you he encountered with you, and thus wilfully Sir Palomides did
  • battle with you; and as for him, sir, I was not greatly afraid, but I
  • dread sore Launcelot, that knew you not. Madam, said Palomides, ye may
  • say whatso ye will, I may not contrary you, but by my knighthood I knew
  • not Sir Tristram. Sir Palomides, said Sir Tristram, I will take your
  • excuse, but well I wot ye spared me but little, but all is pardoned on
  • my part. Then La Beale Isoud held down her head and said no more at
  • that time.
  • CHAPTER LXXVIII. How King Arthur and Sir Launcelot came unto their
  • pavilions as they sat at supper, and of Sir Palomides.
  • And therewithal two knights armed came unto the pavilion, and there
  • they alighted both, and came in armed at all pieces. Fair knights, said
  • Sir Tristram, ye are to blame to come thus armed at all pieces upon me
  • while we are at our meat; if ye would anything when we were in the
  • field there might ye have eased your hearts. Not so, said the one of
  • those knights, we come not for that intent, but wit ye well Sir
  • Tristram, we be come hither as your friends. And I am come here, said
  • the one, for to see you, and this knight is come for to see La Beale
  • Isoud. Then said Sir Tristram: I require you do off your helms that I
  • may see you. That will we do at your desire, said the knights. And when
  • their helms were off, Sir Tristram thought that he should know them.
  • Then said Sir Dinadan privily unto Sir Tristram: Sir, that is Sir
  • Launcelot du Lake that spake unto you first, and the other is my lord
  • King Arthur. Then, said Sir Tristram unto La Beale Isoud, Madam arise,
  • for here is my lord, King Arthur. Then the king and the queen kissed,
  • and Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristram braced either other in arms, and
  • then there was joy without measure; and at the request of La Beale
  • Isoud, King Arthur and Launcelot were unarmed, and then there was merry
  • talking. Madam, said Sir Arthur, it is many a day sithen that I have
  • desired to see you, for ye have been praised so far; and now I dare say
  • ye are the fairest that ever I saw, and Sir Tristram is as fair and as
  • good a knight as any that I know; therefore me beseemeth ye are well
  • beset together. Sir, God thank you, said the noble knight, Sir
  • Tristram, and Isoud; of your great goodness and largess ye are
  • peerless. Thus they talked of many things and of all the whole jousts.
  • But for what cause, said King Arthur, were ye, Sir Tristram, against
  • us? Ye are a knight of the Table Round; of right ye should have been
  • with us. Sir, said Sir Tristram, here is Dinadan, and Sir Gareth your
  • own nephew, caused me to be against you. My lord Arthur, said Gareth, I
  • may well bear the blame, but it were Sir Tristram’s own deeds. That may
  • I repent, said Dinadan, for this unhappy Sir Tristram brought us to
  • this tournament, and many great buffets he caused us to have. Then the
  • king and Launcelot laughed that they might not sit.
  • What knight was that, said Arthur, that held you so short, this with
  • the shield of silver? Sir, said Sir Tristram, here he sitteth at this
  • board. What, said Arthur, was it Sir Palomides? Wit ye well it was he,
  • said La Beale Isoud. So God me help, said Arthur, that was unknightly
  • done of you of so good a knight, for I have heard many people call you
  • a courteous knight. Sir, said Palomides, I knew not Sir Tristram, for
  • he was so disguised. So God me help, said Launcelot, it may well be,
  • for I knew not Sir Tristram; but I marvel why ye turned on our party.
  • That was done for the same cause, said Launcelot. As for that, said Sir
  • Tristram, I have pardoned him, and I would be right loath to leave his
  • fellowship, for I love right well his company: so they left off and
  • talked of other things.
  • And in the evening King Arthur and Sir Launcelot departed unto their
  • lodging; but wit ye well Sir Palomides had envy heartily, for all that
  • night he had never rest in his bed, but wailed and wept out of measure.
  • So on the morn Sir Tristram, Gareth, and Dinadan arose early, and then
  • they went unto Sir Palomides’ chamber, and there they found him fast
  • asleep, for he had all night watched, and it was seen upon his cheeks
  • that he had wept full sore. Say nothing, said Sir Tristram, for I am
  • sure he hath taken anger and sorrow for the rebuke that I gave to him,
  • and La Beale Isoud.
  • CHAPTER LXXIX. How Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides did the next day, and
  • how King Arthur was unhorsed.
  • Then Sir Tristram let call Sir Palomides, and bade him make him ready,
  • for it was time to go to the field. When they were ready they were
  • armed, and clothed all in red, both Isoud and all they; and so they led
  • her passing freshly through the field, into the priory where was her
  • lodging. And then they heard three blasts blow, and every king and
  • knight dressed him unto the field. And the first that was ready to
  • joust was Sir Palomides and Sir Kainus le Strange, a knight of the
  • Table Round. And so they two encountered together, but Sir Palomides
  • smote Sir Kainus so hard that he smote him quite over his horse’s
  • croup. And forthwithal Sir Palomides smote down another knight, and
  • brake then his spear, and pulled out his sword and did wonderly well.
  • And then the noise began greatly upon Sir Palomides. Lo, said King
  • Arthur, yonder Palomides beginneth to play his pageant. So God me help,
  • said Arthur, he is a passing good knight. And right as they stood
  • talking thus, in came Sir Tristram as thunder, and he encountered with
  • Sir Kay the Seneschal, and there he smote him down quite from his
  • horse; and with that same spear Sir Tristram smote down three knights
  • more, and then he pulled out his sword and did marvellously. Then the
  • noise and cry changed from Sir Palomides and turned to Sir Tristram,
  • and all the people cried: O Tristram, O Tristram. And then was Sir
  • Palomides clean forgotten.
  • How now, said Launcelot unto Arthur, yonder rideth a knight that
  • playeth his pageants. So God me help, said Arthur to Launcelot, ye
  • shall see this day that yonder two knights shall here do this day
  • wonders. Sir, said Launcelot, the one knight waiteth upon the other,
  • and enforceth himself through envy to pass the noble knight Sir
  • Tristram, and he knoweth not of the privy envy the which Sir Palomides
  • hath to him; for all that the noble Sir Tristram doth is through clean
  • knighthood. And then Sir Gareth and Dinadan did wonderly great deeds of
  • arms, as two noble knights, so that King Arthur spake of them great
  • honour and worship; and the kings and knights of Sir Tristram’s side
  • did passingly well, and held them truly together. Then Sir Arthur and
  • Sir Launcelot took their horses and dressed them, and gat into the
  • thickest of the press. And there Sir Tristram unknowing smote down King
  • Arthur, and then Sir Launcelot would have rescued him, but there were
  • so many upon Sir Launcelot that they pulled him down from his horse.
  • And then the King of Ireland and the King of Scots with their knights
  • did their pain to take King Arthur and Sir Launcelot prisoner. When Sir
  • Launcelot heard them say so, he fared as it had been an hungry lion,
  • for he fared so that no knight durst nigh him.
  • Then came Sir Ector de Maris, and he bare a spear against Sir
  • Palomides, and brast it upon him all to shivers. And then Sir Ector
  • came again and gave Sir Palomides such a dash with a sword that he
  • stooped down upon his saddle bow. And forthwithal Sir Ector pulled down
  • Sir Palomides under his feet; and then Sir Ector de Maris gat Sir
  • Launcelot du Lake an horse, and brought it to him, and bade him mount
  • upon him; but Sir Palomides leapt afore and gat the horse by the
  • bridle, and leapt into the saddle. So God me help, said Launcelot, ye
  • are better worthy to have that horse than I. Then Sir Ector brought Sir
  • Launcelot another horse. Gramercy, said Launcelot unto his brother. And
  • so when he was horsed again, with one spear he smote down four knights.
  • And then Sir Launcelot brought to King Arthur one of the best of the
  • four horses. Then Sir Launcelot with King Arthur and a few of his
  • knights of Sir Launcelot’s kin did marvellous deeds; for that time, as
  • the book recordeth, Sir Launcelot smote down and pulled down thirty
  • knights. Notwithstanding the other party held them so fast together
  • that King Arthur and his knights were overmatched. And when Sir
  • Tristram saw that, what labour King Arthur and his knights, and in
  • especial the noble deeds that Sir Launcelot did with his own hands, he
  • marvelled greatly.
  • CHAPTER LXXX. How Sir Tristram turned to King Arthur’s side, and how
  • Palomides would not.
  • Then Sir Tristram called unto him Sir Palomides, Sir Gareth, and Sir
  • Dinadan, and said thus to them: My fair fellows, wit ye well that I
  • will turn unto King Arthur’s party, for I saw never so few men do so
  • well, and it will be shame unto us knights that be of the Round Table
  • to see our lord King Arthur, and that noble knight Sir Launcelot, to be
  • dishonoured. It will be well done, said Sir Gareth and Sir Dinadan. Do
  • your best, said Palomides, for I will not change my party that I came
  • in withal. That is for my sake, said Sir Tristram; God speed you in
  • your journey. And so departed Sir Palomides from them. Then Sir
  • Tristram, Gareth, and Dinadan, turned with Sir Launcelot. And then Sir
  • Launcelot smote down the King of Ireland quite from his horse; and so
  • Sir Launcelot smote down the King of Scots, and the King of Wales; and
  • then Sir Arthur ran unto Sir Palomides and smote him quite from his
  • horse; and then Sir Tristram bare down all that he met. Sir Gareth and
  • Sir Dinadan did there as noble knights; then all the parties began to
  • flee. Alas, said Palomides, that ever I should see this day, for now
  • have I lost all the worship that I won; and then Sir Palomides went his
  • way wailing, and so withdrew him till he came to a well, and there he
  • put his horse from him, and did off his armour, and wailed and wept
  • like as he had been a wood man. Then many knights gave the prize to Sir
  • Tristram, and there were many that gave the prize unto Sir Launcelot.
  • Fair lords, said Sir Tristram, I thank you of the honour ye would give
  • me, but I pray you heartily that ye would give your voice to Sir
  • Launcelot, for by my faith said Sir Tristram, I will give Sir Launcelot
  • my voice. But Sir Launcelot would not have it, and so the prize was
  • given betwixt them both.
  • Then every man rode to his lodging, and Sir Bleoberis and Sir Ector
  • rode with Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud unto their pavilions. Then as
  • Sir Palomides was at the well wailing and weeping, there came by him
  • flying the kings of Wales and of Scotland, and they saw Sir Palomides
  • in that arage. Alas, said they, that so noble a man as ye be should be
  • in this array. And then those kings gat Sir Palomides’ horse again, and
  • made him to arm him and mount upon his horse, and so he rode with them,
  • making great dole. So when Sir Palomides came nigh the pavilions
  • thereas Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud was in, then Sir Palomides
  • prayed the two kings to abide him there the while that he spake with
  • Sir Tristram. And when he came to the port of the pavilions, Sir
  • Palomides said on high: Where art thou, Sir Tristram de Liones? Sir,
  • said Dinadan, that is Palomides. What, Sir Palomides, will ye not come
  • in here among us? Fie on thee traitor, said Palomides, for wit you well
  • an it were daylight as it is night I should slay thee, mine own hands.
  • And if ever I may get thee, said Palomides, thou shalt die for this
  • day’s deed. Sir Palomides, said Sir Tristram, ye wite me with wrong,
  • for had ye done as I did ye had won worship. But sithen ye give me so
  • large warning I shall be well ware of you. Fie on thee, traitor, said
  • Palomides, and therewith departed.
  • Then on the morn Sir Tristram, Bleoberis, and Sir Ector de Maris, Sir
  • Gareth, Sir Dinadan, what by water and what by land, they brought La
  • Beale Isoud unto Joyous Gard, and there reposed them a seven night, and
  • made all the mirths and disports that they could devise. And King
  • Arthur and his knights drew unto Camelot, and Sir Palomides rode with
  • the two kings; and ever he made the greatest dole that any man could
  • think, for he was not all only so dolorous for the departing from La
  • Beale Isoud, but he was a part as sorrowful to depart from the
  • fellowship of Sir Tristram; for Sir Tristram was so kind and so gentle
  • that when Sir Palomides remembered him thereof he might never be merry.
  • CHAPTER LXXXI. How Sir Bleoberis and Sir Ector reported to Queen
  • Guenever of the beauty of La Beale Isoud.
  • So at the seven nights’ end Sir Bleoberis and Sir Ector departed from
  • Sir Tristram and from the queen; and these two good knights had great
  • gifts; and Sir Gareth and Sir Dinadan abode with Sir Tristram. And when
  • Sir Bleoberis and Sir Ector were come there as the Queen Guenever was
  • lodged, in a castle by the seaside, and through the grace of God the
  • queen was recovered of her malady, then she asked the two knights from
  • whence they came. They said that they came from Sir Tristram and from
  • La Beale Isoud. How doth Sir Tristram, said the queen, and La Beale
  • Isoud? Truly, said those two knights, he doth as a noble knight should
  • do; and as for the Queen Isoud, she is peerless of all ladies; for to
  • speak of her beauty, bounté, and mirth, and of her goodness, we saw
  • never her match as far as we have ridden and gone. O mercy Jesu, said
  • Queen Guenever, so saith all the people that have seen her and spoken
  • with her. God would that I had part of her conditions; and it is
  • misfortuned me of my sickness while that tournament endured. And as I
  • suppose I shall never see in all my life such an assembly of knights
  • and ladies as ye have done.
  • Then the knights told her how Palomides won the degree at the first day
  • with great noblesse; and the second day Sir Tristram won the degree;
  • and the third day Sir Launcelot won the degree. Well, said Queen
  • Guenever, who did best all these three days? So God me help, said these
  • knights, Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristram had least dishonour. And wit ye
  • well Sir Palomides did passing well and mightily; but he turned against
  • the party that he came in withal, and that caused him to lose a great
  • part of his worship, for it seemed that Sir Palomides is passing
  • envious. Then shall he never win worship, said Queen Guenever, for an
  • it happeth an envious man once to win worship he shall be dishonoured
  • twice therefore; and for this cause all men of worship hate an envious
  • man, and will shew him no favour, and he that is courteous, and kind,
  • and gentle, hath favour in every place.
  • CHAPTER LXXXII. How Epinogris complained by a well, and how Sir
  • Palomides came and found him, and of their both sorrowing.
  • Now leave we of this matter and speak we of Sir Palomides, that rode
  • and lodged him with the two kings, whereof the kings were heavy. Then
  • the King of Ireland sent a man of his to Sir Palomides, and gave him a
  • great courser, and the King of Scotland gave him great gifts; and fain
  • they would have had Sir Palomides to have abiden with them, but in no
  • wise he would abide; and so he departed, and rode as adventures would
  • guide him, till it was nigh noon. And then in a forest by a well Sir
  • Palomides saw where lay a fair wounded knight and his horse bounden by
  • him; and that knight made the greatest dole that ever he heard man
  • make, for ever he wept, and therewith he sighed as though he would die.
  • Then Sir Palomides rode near him and saluted him mildly and said: Fair
  • knight, why wail ye so? let me lie down and wail with you, for doubt
  • not I am much more heavier than ye are; for I dare say, said Palomides,
  • that my sorrow is an hundred fold more than yours is, and therefore let
  • us complain either to other. First, said the wounded knight, I require
  • you tell me your name, for an thou be none of the noble knights of the
  • Round Table thou shalt never know my name, whatsomever come of me. Fair
  • knight, said Palomides, such as I am, be it better or be it worse, wit
  • thou well that my name is Sir Palomides, son and heir unto King
  • Astlabor, and Sir Safere and Sir Segwarides are my two brethren; and
  • wit thou well as for myself I was never christened, but my two brethren
  • are truly christened. O noble knight, said that knight, well is me that
  • I have met with you; and wit ye well my name is Epinogris, the king’s
  • son of Northumberland. Now sit down, said Epinogris, and let us either
  • complain to other.
  • Then Sir Palomides began his complaint. Now shall I tell you, said
  • Palomides, what woe I endure. I love the fairest queen and lady that
  • ever bare life, and wit ye well her name is La Beale Isoud, King Mark’s
  • wife of Cornwall. That is great folly, said Epinogris, for to love
  • Queen Isoud, for one of the best knights of the world loveth her, that
  • is Sir Tristram de Liones. That is truth, said Palomides, for no man
  • knoweth that matter better than I do, for I have been in Sir Tristram’s
  • fellowship this month, and with La Beale Isoud together; and alas, said
  • Palomides, unhappy man that I am, now have I lost the fellowship of Sir
  • Tristram for ever, and the love of La Beale Isoud for ever, and I am
  • never like to see her more, and Sir Tristram and I be either to other
  • mortal enemies. Well, said Epinogris, sith that ye loved La Beale
  • Isoud, loved she you ever again by anything that ye could think or wit,
  • or else did ye rejoice her ever in any pleasure? Nay, by my knighthood,
  • said Palomides, I never espied that ever she loved me more than all the
  • world, nor never had I pleasure with her, but the last day she gave me
  • the greatest rebuke that ever I had, the which shall never go from my
  • heart. And yet I well deserved that rebuke, for I did not knightly, and
  • therefore I have lost the love of her and of Sir Tristram for ever; and
  • I have many times enforced myself to do many deeds for La Beale Isoud’s
  • sake, and she was the causer of my worship-winning. Alas, said Sir
  • Palomides, now have I lost all the worship that ever I won, for never
  • shall me befall such prowess as I had in the fellowship of Sir
  • Tristram.
  • CHAPTER LXXXIII. How Sir Palomides brought Sir Epinogris his lady; and
  • how Sir Palomides and Sir Safere were assailed.
  • Nay, nay, said Epinogris, your sorrow is but japes to my sorrow; for I
  • rejoiced my lady and won her with my hands, and lost her again: alas
  • that day! Thus first I won her, said Epinogris; my lady was an earl’s
  • daughter, and as the earl and two knights came from the tournament of
  • Lonazep, for her sake I set upon this earl and on his two knights, my
  • lady there being present; and so by fortune there I slew the earl and
  • one of the knights, and the other knight fled, and so that night I had
  • my lady. And on the morn as she and I reposed us at this well-side
  • there came there to me an errant knight, his name was Sir Helior le
  • Preuse, an hardy knight, and this Sir Helior challenged me to fight for
  • my lady. And then we went to battle first upon horse and after on foot,
  • but at the last Sir Helior wounded me so that he left me for dead, and
  • so he took my lady with him; and thus my sorrow is more than yours, for
  • I have rejoiced and ye rejoiced never. That is truth, said Palomides,
  • but sith I can never recover myself I shall promise you if I can meet
  • with Sir Helior I shall get you your lady again, or else he shall beat
  • me.
  • Then Sir Palomides made Sir Epinogris to take his horse, and so they
  • rode to an hermitage, and there Sir Epinogris rested him. And in the
  • meanwhile Sir Palomides walked privily out to rest him under the
  • leaves, and there beside he saw a knight come riding with a shield that
  • he had seen Sir Ector de Maris bear beforehand; and there came after
  • him a ten knights, and so these ten knights hoved under the leaves for
  • heat. And anon after there came a knight with a green shield and
  • therein a white lion, leading a lady upon a palfrey. Then this knight
  • with the green shield that seemed to be master of the ten knights, he
  • rode fiercely after Sir Helior, for it was he that hurt Sir Epinogris.
  • And when he came nigh Sir Helior he bade him defend his lady. I will
  • defend her, said Helior, unto my power. And so they ran together so
  • mightily that either of these knights smote other down, horse and all,
  • to the earth; and then they won up lightly and drew their swords and
  • their shields, and lashed together mightily more than an hour. All this
  • Sir Palomides saw and beheld, but ever at the last the knight with Sir
  • Ector’s shield was bigger, and at the last this knight smote Sir Helior
  • down, and then that knight unlaced his helm to have stricken off his
  • head. And then he cried mercy, and prayed him to save his life, and
  • bade him take his lady. Then Sir Palomides dressed him up, because he
  • wist well that that same lady was Epinogris’ lady, and he promised him
  • to help him.
  • Then Sir Palomides went straight to that lady, and took her by the
  • hand, and asked her whether she knew a knight that hight Epinogris.
  • Alas, she said, that ever he knew me or I him, for I have for his sake
  • lost my worship, and also his life grieveth me most of all. Not so,
  • lady, said Palomides, come on with me, for here is Epinogris in this
  • hermitage. Ah! well is me, said the lady, an he be alive. Whither wilt
  • thou with that lady? said the knight with Sir Ector’s shield. I will do
  • with her what me list, said Palomides. Wit you well, said that knight,
  • thou speakest over large, though thou seemest me to have at advantage,
  • because thou sawest me do battle but late. Thou weenest, sir knight, to
  • have that lady away from me so lightly? nay, think it never not; an
  • thou were as good a knight as is Sir Launcelot, or as is Sir Tristram,
  • or Sir Palomides, but thou shalt win her dearer than ever did I. And so
  • they went unto battle upon foot, and there they gave many sad strokes,
  • and either wounded other passing sore, and thus they fought still more
  • than an hour.
  • Then Sir Palomides had marvel what knight he might be that was so
  • strong and so well breathed during, and thus said Palomides: Knight, I
  • require thee tell me thy name. Wit thou well, said that knight, I dare
  • tell thee my name, so that thou wilt tell me thy name. I will, said
  • Palomides. Truly, said that knight, my name is Safere, son of King
  • Astlabor, and Sir Palomides and Sir Segwarides are my brethren. Now,
  • and wit thou well, my name is Sir Palomides. Then Sir Safere kneeled
  • down upon his knees, and prayed him of mercy; and then they unlaced
  • their helms and either kissed other weeping. And in the meanwhile Sir
  • Epinogris arose out of his bed, and heard them by the strokes, and so
  • he armed him to help Sir Palomides if need were.
  • CHAPTER LXXXIV. How Sir Palomides and Sir Safere conducted Sir
  • Epinogris to his castle, and of other adventures.
  • Then Sir Palomides took the lady by the hand and brought her to Sir
  • Epinogris, and there was great joy betwixt them, for either swooned for
  • joy. When they were met: Fair knight and lady, said Sir Safere, it were
  • pity to depart you; Jesu send you joy either of other. Gramercy, gentle
  • knight, said Epinogris; and much more thanks be to my lord Sir
  • Palomides, that thus hath through his prowess made me to get my lady.
  • Then Sir Epinogris required Sir Palomides and Sir Safere, his brother,
  • to ride with them unto his castle, for the safeguard of his person.
  • Sir, said Palomides, we will be ready to conduct you because that ye
  • are sore wounded; and so was Epinogris and his lady horsed, and his
  • lady behind him upon a soft ambler. And then they rode unto his castle,
  • where they had great cheer and joy, as great as ever Sir Palomides and
  • Sir Safere had in their life-days.
  • So on the morn Sir Safere and Sir Palomides departed, day until after
  • noon. And at the last they heard a great weeping and a great noise down
  • in a manor. Sir, said then Sir Safere, let us wit what noise this is. I
  • will well, said Sir Palomides. And so they rode forth till that they
  • came to a fair gate of a manor, and there sat an old man saying his
  • prayers and beads. Then Sir Palomides and Sir Safere alighted and left
  • their horses, and went within the gates, and there they saw full many
  • goodly men weeping. Fair sirs, said Palomides, wherefore weep ye and
  • make this sorrow? Anon one of the knights of the castle beheld Sir
  • Palomides and knew him, and then went to his fellows and said: Fair
  • fellows, wit ye well all, we have in this castle the same knight that
  • slew our lord at Lonazep, for I know him well; it is Sir Palomides.
  • Then they went unto harness, all that might bear harness, some on
  • horseback and some on foot, to the number of three score. And when they
  • were ready they came freshly upon Sir Palomides and upon Sir Safere
  • with a great noise, and said thus: Keep thee, Sir Palomides, for thou
  • art known, and by right thou must be dead, for thou hast slain our
  • lord; and therefore wit ye well we will slay thee, therefore defend
  • thee.
  • Then Sir Palomides and Sir Safere, the one set his back to the other,
  • and gave many great strokes, and took many great strokes; and thus they
  • fought with a twenty knights and forty gentlemen and yeomen nigh two
  • hours. But at the last though they were loath, Sir Palomides and Sir
  • Safere were taken and yolden, and put in a strong prison; and within
  • three days twelve knights passed upon them, and they found Sir
  • Palomides guilty, and Sir Safere not guilty, of their lord’s death. And
  • when Sir Safere should be delivered there was great dole betwixt Sir
  • Palomides and him, and many piteous complaints that Sir Safere made at
  • his departing, there is no maker can rehearse the tenth part. Fair
  • brother, said Palomides, let be thy dolour and thy sorrow. And if I be
  • ordained to die a shameful death, welcome be it; but an I had wist of
  • this death that I am deemed unto, I should never have been yolden. So
  • Sir Safere departed from his brother with the greatest dolour and
  • sorrow that ever made knight.
  • And on the morn they of the castle ordained twelve knights to ride with
  • Sir Palomides unto the father of the same knight that Sir Palomides
  • slew; and so they bound his legs under an old steed’s belly. And then
  • they rode with Sir Palomides unto a castle by the seaside, that hight
  • Pelownes, and there Sir Palomides should have justice. Thus was their
  • ordinance; and so they rode with Sir Palomides fast by the castle of
  • Joyous Gard. And as they passed by that castle there came riding out of
  • that castle by them one that knew Sir Palomides. And when that knight
  • saw Sir Palomides bounden upon a crooked courser, the knight asked Sir
  • Palomides for what cause he was led so. Ah, my fair fellow and knight,
  • said Palomides, I ride toward my death for the slaying of a knight at a
  • tournament of Lonazep; and if I had not departed from my lord Sir
  • Tristram, as I ought not to have done, now might I have been sure to
  • have had my life saved; but I pray you, sir knight, recommend me unto
  • my lord, Sir Tristram, and unto my lady, Queen Isoud, and say to them
  • if ever I trespassed to them I ask them forgiveness. And also I beseech
  • you recommend me unto my lord, King Arthur, and to all the fellowship
  • of the Round Table, unto my power. Then that knight wept for pity of
  • Sir Palomides; and therewithal he rode unto Joyous Gard as fast as his
  • horse might run, and lightly that knight descended down off his horse
  • and went unto Sir Tristram, and there he told him all as ye have heard,
  • and ever the knight wept as he had been mad.
  • CHAPTER LXXXV. How Sir Tristram made him ready to rescue Sir Palomides,
  • but Sir Launcelot rescued him or he came.
  • When Sir Tristram heard how Sir Palomides went to his death, he was
  • heavy to hear that, and said: Howbeit that I am wroth with Sir
  • Palomides, yet will not I suffer him to die so shameful a death, for he
  • is a full noble knight. And then anon Sir Tristram was armed and took
  • his horse and two squires with him, and rode a great pace toward the
  • castle of Pelownes where Sir Palomides was judged to death. And these
  • twelve knights that led Sir Palomides passed by a well whereas Sir
  • Launcelot was, which was alighted there, and had tied his horse to a
  • tree, and taken off his helm to drink of that well; and when he saw
  • these knights, Sir Launcelot put on his helm and suffered them to pass
  • by him. And then was he ware of Sir Palomides bounden, and led
  • shamefully to his death. O Jesu, said Launcelot, what misadventure is
  • befallen him that he is thus led toward his death? Forsooth, said
  • Launcelot, it were shame to me to suffer this noble knight so to die an
  • I might help him, therefore I will help him whatsomever come of it, or
  • else I shall die for Sir Palomides’ sake. And then Sir Launcelot
  • mounted upon his horse, and gat his spear in his hand, and rode after
  • the twelve knights that led Sir Palomides. Fair knights, said Sir
  • Launcelot, whither lead ye that knight? it beseemeth him full ill to
  • ride bounden. Then these twelve knights suddenly turned their horses
  • and said to Sir Launcelot: Sir knight, we counsel thee not to meddle
  • with this knight, for he hath deserved death, and unto death he is
  • judged. That me repenteth, said Launcelot, that I may not borrow him
  • with fairness, for he is over good a knight to die such a shameful
  • death. And therefore, fair knights, said Sir Launcelot, keep you as
  • well as ye can, for I will rescue that knight or die for it.
  • Then they began to dress their spears, and Sir Launcelot smote the
  • foremost down, horse and man, and so he served three more with one
  • spear; and then that spear brast, and therewithal Sir Launcelot drew
  • his sword, and then he smote on the right hand and on the left hand.
  • Then within a while he left none of those twelve knights, but he had
  • laid them to the earth, and the most part of them were sore wounded.
  • And then Sir Launcelot took the best horse that he found, and loosed
  • Sir Palomides and set him upon that horse; and so they returned again
  • unto Joyous Gard, and then was Sir Palomides ware of Sir Tristram how
  • he came riding. And when Sir Launcelot saw him he knew him well, but
  • Sir Tristram knew him not because Sir Launcelot had on his shoulder a
  • golden shield. So Sir Launcelot made him ready to joust with Sir
  • Tristram, that Sir Tristram should not ween that he were Sir Launcelot.
  • Then Sir Palomides cried aloud to Sir Tristram: O my lord, I require
  • you joust not with this knight, for this good knight hath saved me from
  • my death. When Sir Tristram heard him say so he came a soft trotting
  • pace toward them. And then Sir Palomides said: My lord, Sir Tristram,
  • much am I beholding unto you of your great goodness, that would proffer
  • your noble body to rescue me undeserved, for I have greatly offended
  • you. Notwithstanding, said Sir Palomides, here met we with this noble
  • knight that worshipfully and manly rescued me from twelve knights, and
  • smote them down all and wounded them sore.
  • CHAPTER LXXXVI. How Sir Tristram and Launcelot, with Palomides, came to
  • joyous Gard; and of Palomides and Sir Tristram.
  • Fair knight, said Sir Tristram unto Sir Launcelot, of whence be ye? I
  • am a knight errant, said Sir Launcelot, that rideth to seek many
  • adventures. What is your name? said Sir Tristram. Sir, at this time I
  • will not tell you. Then Sir Launcelot said unto Sir Tristram and to
  • Palomides: Now either of you are met together I will depart from you.
  • Not so, said Sir Tristram; I pray you of knighthood to ride with me
  • unto my castle. Wit you well, said Sir Launcelot, I may not ride with
  • you, for I have many deeds to do in other places, that at this time I
  • may not abide with you. Ah, mercy Jesu, said Sir Tristram, I require
  • you as ye be a true knight to the order of knighthood, play you with me
  • this night. Then Sir Tristram had a grant of Sir Launcelot: howbeit
  • though he had not desired him he would have ridden with them, outher
  • soon have come after them; for Sir Launcelot came for none other cause
  • into that country but for to see Sir Tristram. And when they were come
  • within Joyous Gard they alighted, and their horses were led into a
  • stable; and then they unarmed them. And when Sir Launcelot was
  • unhelmed, Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides knew him. Then Sir Tristram
  • took Sir Launcelot in arms, and so did La Beale Isoud; and Palomides
  • kneeled down upon his knees and thanked Sir Launcelot. When Sir
  • Launcelot saw Sir Palomides kneel he lightly took him up and said thus:
  • Wit thou well, Sir Palomides, I and any knight in this land, of worship
  • ought of very right succour and rescue so noble a knight as ye are
  • proved and renowned, throughout all this realm endlong and overthwart.
  • And then was there joy among them, and the oftener that Sir Palomides
  • saw La Beale Isoud the heavier he waxed day by day.
  • Then Sir Launcelot within three or four days departed, and with him
  • rode Sir Ector de Maris; and Dinadan and Sir Palomides were there left
  • with Sir Tristram a two months and more. But ever Sir Palomides faded
  • and mourned, that all men had marvel wherefore he faded so away. So
  • upon a day, in the dawning, Sir Palomides went into the forest by
  • himself alone; and there he found a well, and then he looked into the
  • well, and in the water he saw his own visage, how he was disturbed and
  • defaded, nothing like that he was. What may this mean? said Sir
  • Palomides, and thus he said to himself: Ah, Palomides, Palomides, why
  • art thou defaded, thou that was wont to be called one of the fairest
  • knights of the world? I will no more lead this life, for I love that I
  • may never get nor recover. And therewithal he laid him down by the
  • well. And then he began to make a rhyme of La Beale Isoud and him.
  • And in the meanwhile Sir Tristram was that same day ridden into the
  • forest to chase the hart of greese; but Sir Tristram would not ride
  • a-hunting never more unarmed, because of Sir Breuse Saunce Pité. And so
  • as Sir Tristram rode into that forest up and down, he heard one sing
  • marvellously loud, and that was Sir Palomides that lay by the well. And
  • then Sir Tristram rode softly thither, for he deemed there was some
  • knight errant that was at the well. And when Sir Tristram came nigh him
  • he descended down from his horse and tied his horse fast till a tree,
  • and then he came near him on foot; and anon he was ware where lay Sir
  • Palomides by the well and sang loud and merrily; and ever the
  • complaints were of that noble queen, La Beale Isoud, the which was
  • marvellously and wonderfully well said, and full dolefully and
  • piteously made. And all the whole song the noble knight, Sir Tristram,
  • heard from the beginning to the ending, the which grieved and troubled
  • him sore.
  • But then at the last, when Sir Tristram had heard all Sir Palomides’
  • complaints, he was wroth out of measure, and thought for to slay him
  • thereas he lay. Then Sir Tristram remembered himself that Sir Palomides
  • was unarmed, and of the noble name that Sir Palomides had, and the
  • noble name that himself had, and then he made a restraint of his anger;
  • and so he went unto Sir Palomides a soft pace and said: Sir Palomides,
  • I have heard your complaint, and of thy treason that thou hast owed me
  • so long, and wit thou well therefore thou shalt die; and if it were not
  • for shame of knighthood thou shouldest not escape my hands, for now I
  • know well thou hast awaited me with treason. Tell me, said Sir
  • Tristram, how thou wilt acquit thee? Sir, said Palomides, thus I will
  • acquit me: as for Queen La Beale Isoud, ye shall wit well that I love
  • her above all other ladies in this world; and well I wot it shall
  • befall me as for her love as befell to the noble knight Sir Kehydius,
  • that died for the love of La Beale Isoud. And now, Sir Tristram, I will
  • that ye wit that I have loved La Beale Isoud many a day, and she hath
  • been the causer of my worship, and else I had been the most simplest
  • knight in the world. For by her, and because of her, I have won the
  • worship that I have; for when I remembered me of La Beale Isoud I won
  • the worship wheresomever I came for the most part; and yet had I never
  • reward nor bounté of her the days of my life, and yet have I been her
  • knight guerdonless. And therefore, Sir Tristram, as for any death I
  • dread not, for I had as lief die as to live. And if I were armed as
  • thou art, I should lightly do battle with thee. Well have ye uttered
  • your treason, said Tristram. I have done to you no treason, said
  • Palomides, for love is free for all men, and though I have loved your
  • lady, she is my lady as well as yours; howbeit I have wrong if any
  • wrong be, for ye rejoice her, and have your desire of her, and so had I
  • never nor never am like to have, and yet shall I love her to the
  • uttermost days of my life as well as ye.
  • CHAPTER LXXXVII. How there was a day set between Sir Tristram and Sir
  • Palomides for to fight, and how Sir Tristram was hurt.
  • Then said Sir Tristram: I will fight with you to the uttermost. I
  • grant, said Palomides, for in a better quarrel keep I never to fight,
  • for an I die of your hands, of a better knight’s hands may I not be
  • slain. And sithen I understand that I shall never rejoice La Beale
  • Isoud, I have as good will to die as to live. Then set ye a day, said
  • Sir Tristram, that we shall do battle. This day fifteen days, said
  • Palomides, will I meet with you hereby, in the meadow under Joyous
  • Gard. Fie for shame, said Sir Tristram, will ye set so long day? let us
  • fight to-morn. Not so, said Palomides, for I am meagre, and have been
  • long sick for the love of La Beale Isoud, and therefore I will repose
  • me till I have my strength again. So then Sir Tristram and Sir
  • Palomides promised faith fully to meet at the well that day fifteen
  • days. I am remembered, said Sir Tristram to Palomides, that ye brake me
  • once a promise when that I rescued you from Breuse Saunce Pité and nine
  • knights; and then ye promised me to meet me at the peron and the grave
  • beside Camelot, whereas at that time ye failed of your promise. Wit you
  • well, said Palomides unto Sir Tristram, I was at that day in prison, so
  • that I might not hold my promise. So God me help, said Sir Tristram, an
  • ye had holden your promise this work had not been here now at this
  • time.
  • Right so departed Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides. And so Sir Palomides
  • took his horse and his harness, and he rode unto King Arthur’s court;
  • and there Sir Palomides gat him four knights and four
  • sergeants-of-arms, and so he returned againward unto Joyous Gard. And
  • in the meanwhile Sir Tristram chased and hunted at all manner of
  • venery; and about three days afore the battle should be, as Sir
  • Tristram chased an hart, there was an archer shot at the hart, and by
  • misfortune he smote Sir Tristram in the thick of the thigh, and the
  • arrow slew Sir Tristram’s horse and hurt him. When Sir Tristram was so
  • hurt he was passing heavy, and wit ye well he bled sore; and then he
  • took another horse, and rode unto Joyous Gard with great heaviness,
  • more for the promise that he had made with Sir Palomides, as to do
  • battle with him within three days after, than for any hurt of his
  • thigh. Wherefore there was neither man nor woman that could cheer him
  • with anything that they could make to him, neither Queen La Beale
  • Isoud; for ever he deemed that Sir Palomides had smitten him so that he
  • should not be able to do battle with him at the day set.
  • CHAPTER LXXXVIII. How Sir Palomides kept his day to have foughten, but
  • Sir Tristram might not come; and other things.
  • But in no wise there was no knight about Sir Tristram that would
  • believe that ever Sir Palomides would hurt Sir Tristram, neither by his
  • own hands nor by none other consenting. Then when the fifteenth day was
  • come, Sir Palomides came to the well with four knights with him of
  • Arthur’s court, and three sergeants-of-arms. And for this intent Sir
  • Palomides brought the knights with him and the sergeants-of-arms, for
  • they should bear record of the battle betwixt Sir Tristram and Sir
  • Palomides. And the one sergeant brought in his helm, the other his
  • spear, the third his sword. So thus Palomides came into the field, and
  • there he abode nigh two hours; and then he sent a squire unto Sir
  • Tristram, and desired him to come into the field to hold his promise.
  • When the squire was come to Joyous Gard, anon as Sir Tristram heard of
  • his coming he let command that the squire should come to his presence
  • thereas he lay in his bed. My lord Sir Tristram, said Palomides’
  • squire, wit you well my lord, Palomides, abideth you in the field, and
  • he would wit whether ye would do battle or not. Ah, my fair brother,
  • said Sir Tristram, wit thou well that I am right heavy for these
  • tidings; therefore tell Sir Palomides an I were well at ease I would
  • not lie here, nor he should have no need to send for me an I might
  • either ride or go; and for thou shalt say that I am no liar—Sir
  • Tristram showed him his thigh that the wound was six inches deep. And
  • now thou hast seen my hurt, tell thy lord that this is no feigned
  • matter, and tell him that I had liefer than all the gold of King Arthur
  • that I were whole; and tell Palomides as soon as I am whole I shall
  • seek him endlong and overthwart, and that I promise you as I am true
  • knight; and if ever I may meet with him, he shall have battle of me his
  • fill. And with this the squire departed; and when Palomides wist that
  • Tristram was hurt he was glad and said: Now I am sure I shall have no
  • shame, for I wot well I should have had hard handling of him, and by
  • likely I must needs have had the worse, for he is the hardest knight in
  • battle that now is living except Sir Launcelot.
  • And then departed Sir Palomides whereas fortune led him, and within a
  • month Sir Tristram was whole of his hurt. And then he took his horse,
  • and rode from country to country, and all strange adventures he
  • achieved wheresomever he rode; and always he enquired for Sir
  • Palomides, but of all that quarter of summer Sir Tristram could never
  • meet with Sir Palomides. But thus as Sir Tristram sought and enquired
  • after Sir Palomides Sir Tristram achieved many great battles,
  • wherethrough all the noise fell to Sir Tristram, and it ceased of Sir
  • Launcelot; and therefore Sir Launcelot’s brethren and his kinsmen would
  • have slain Sir Tristram because of his fame. But when Sir Launcelot
  • wist how his kinsmen were set, he said to them openly: Wit you well,
  • that an the envy of you all be so hardy to wait upon my lord, Sir
  • Tristram, with any hurt, shame, or villainy, as I am true knight I
  • shall slay the best of you with mine own hands Alas, fie for shame,
  • should ye for his noble deeds await upon him to slay him. Jesu defend,
  • said Launcelot, that ever any noble knight as Sir Tristram is should be
  • destroyed with treason. Of this noise and fame sprang into Cornwall,
  • and among them of Liones, whereof they were passing glad, and made
  • great joy. And then they of Liones sent letters unto Sir Tristram of
  • recommendation, and many great gifts to maintain Sir Tristram’s estate;
  • and ever, between, Sir Tristram resorted unto Joyous Gard whereas La
  • Beale Isoud was, that loved him as her life.
  • _Here endeth the tenth book which is of Sir Tristram. And here
  • followeth the eleventh book which is of Sir Launcelot._
  • BOOK XI.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Launcelot rode on his adventure, and how he holp a
  • dolorous lady from her pain, and how that he fought with a dragon.
  • Now leave we Sir Tristram de Liones, and speak we of Sir Launcelot du
  • Lake, and of Sir Galahad, Sir Launcelot’s son, how he was gotten, and
  • in what manner, as the book of French rehearseth. Afore the time that
  • Sir Galahad was gotten or born, there came in an hermit unto King
  • Arthur upon Whitsunday, as the knights sat at the Table Round. And when
  • the hermit saw the Siege Perilous, he asked the king and all the
  • knights why that siege was void. Sir Arthur and all the knights
  • answered: There shall never none sit in that siege but one, but if he
  • be destroyed. Then said the hermit: Wot ye what is he? Nay, said Arthur
  • and all the knights, we wot not who is he that shall sit therein. Then
  • wot I, said the hermit, for he that shall sit there is unborn and
  • ungotten, and this same year he shall be gotten that shall sit there in
  • that Siege Perilous, and he shall win the Sangreal. When this hermit
  • had made this mention he departed from the court of King Arthur.
  • And then after this feast Sir Launcelot rode on his adventure, till on
  • a time by adventure he passed over the pont of Corbin; and there he saw
  • the fairest tower that ever he saw, and there-under was a fair town
  • full of people; and all the people, men and women, cried at once:
  • Welcome, Sir Launcelot du Lake, the flower of all knighthood, for by
  • thee all we shall be holpen out of danger. What mean ye, said Sir
  • Launcelot, that ye cry so upon me? Ah, fair knight, said they all, here
  • is within this tower a dolorous lady that hath been there in pains many
  • winters and days, for ever she boileth in scalding water; and but late,
  • said all the people, Sir Gawaine was here and he might not help her,
  • and so he left her in pain. So may I, said Sir Launcelot, leave her in
  • pain as well as Sir Gawaine did. Nay, said the people, we know well
  • that it is Sir Launcelot that shall deliver her. Well, said Launcelot,
  • then shew me what I shall do.
  • Then they brought Sir Launcelot into the tower; and when he came to the
  • chamber thereas this lady was, the doors of iron unlocked and unbolted.
  • And so Sir Launcelot went into the chamber that was as hot as any stew.
  • And there Sir Launcelot took the fairest lady by the hand that ever he
  • saw, and she was naked as a needle; and by enchantment Queen Morgan le
  • Fay and the Queen of Northgalis had put her there in that pains,
  • because she was called the fairest lady of that country; and there she
  • had been five years, and never might she be delivered out of her great
  • pains unto the time the best knight of the world had taken her by the
  • hand. Then the people brought her clothes. And when she was arrayed,
  • Sir Launcelot thought she was the fairest lady of the world, but if it
  • were Queen Guenever.
  • Then this lady said to Sir Launcelot: Sir, if it please you will ye go
  • with me hereby into a chapel that we may give loving and thanking unto
  • God? Madam, said Sir Launcelot, come on with me, I will go with you. So
  • when they came there and gave thankings to God all the people, both
  • learned and lewd, gave thankings unto God and him, and said: Sir
  • knight, since ye have delivered this lady, ye shall deliver us from a
  • serpent there is here in a tomb. Then Sir Launcelot took his shield and
  • said: Bring me thither, and what I may do unto the pleasure of God and
  • you I will do. So when Sir Launcelot came thither he saw written upon
  • the tomb letters of gold that said thus: Here shall come a leopard of
  • king’s blood, and he shall slay this serpent, and this leopard shall
  • engender a lion in this foreign country, the which lion shall pass all
  • other knights. So then Sir Launcelot lift up the tomb, and there came
  • out an horrible and a fiendly dragon, spitting fire out of his mouth.
  • Then Sir Launcelot drew his sword and fought with the dragon long, and
  • at the last with great pain Sir Launcelot slew that dragon. Therewithal
  • came King Pelles, the good and noble knight, and saluted Sir Launcelot,
  • and he him again. Fair knight, said the king, what is your name? I
  • require you of your knighthood tell me!
  • CHAPTER II. How Sir Launcelot came to Pelles, and of the Sangreal, and
  • of Elaine, King Pelles’ daughter.
  • Sir, said Launcelot, wit you well my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake. And
  • my name is, said the king, Pelles, king of the foreign country, and
  • cousin nigh unto Joseph of Armathie. And then either of them made much
  • of other, and so they went into the castle to take their repast. And
  • anon there came in a dove at a window, and in her mouth there seemed a
  • little censer of gold. And herewithal there was such a savour as all
  • the spicery of the world had been there. And forthwithal there was upon
  • the table all manner of meats and drinks that they could think upon. So
  • came in a damosel passing fair and young, and she bare a vessel of gold
  • betwixt her hands; and thereto the king kneeled devoutly, and said his
  • prayers, and so did all that were there. O Jesu, said Sir Launcelot,
  • what may this mean? This is, said the king, the richest thing that any
  • man hath living. And when this thing goeth about, the Round Table shall
  • be broken; and wit thou well, said the king, this is the holy Sangreal
  • that ye have here seen. So the king and Sir Launcelot led their life
  • the most part of that day. And fain would King Pelles have found the
  • mean to have had Sir Launcelot to have lain by his daughter, fair
  • Elaine. And for this intent: the king knew well that Sir Launcelot
  • should get a child upon his daughter, the which should be named Sir
  • Galahad the good knight, by whom all the foreign country should be
  • brought out of danger, and by him the Holy Greal should be achieved.
  • Then came forth a lady that hight Dame Brisen, and she said unto the
  • king: Sir, wit ye well Sir Launcelot loveth no lady in the world but
  • all only Queen Guenever; and therefore work ye by counsel, and I shall
  • make him to lie with your daughter, and he shall not wit but that he
  • lieth with Queen Guenever. O fair lady, Dame Brisen, said the king,
  • hope ye to bring this about? Sir, said she, upon pain of my life let me
  • deal; for this Brisen was one of the greatest enchantresses that was at
  • that time in the world living. Then anon by Dame Brisen’s wit she made
  • one to come to Sir Launcelot that he knew well. And this man brought
  • him a ring from Queen Guenever like as it had come from her, and such
  • one as she was wont for the most part to wear; and when Sir Launcelot
  • saw that token wit ye well he was never so fain. Where is my lady? said
  • Sir Launcelot. In the Castle of Case, said the messenger, but five mile
  • hence. Then Sir Launcelot thought to be there the same might. And then
  • this Brisen by the commandment of King Pelles let send Elaine to this
  • castle with twenty-five knights unto the Castle of Case. Then Sir
  • Launcelot against night rode unto that castle, and there anon he was
  • received worshipfully with such people, to his seeming, as were about
  • Queen Guenever secret.
  • So when Sir Launcelot was alighted, he asked where the queen was. So
  • Dame Brisen said she was in her bed; and then the people were avoided,
  • and Sir Launcelot was led unto his chamber. And then Dame Brisen
  • brought Sir Launcelot a cup full of wine; and anon as he had drunken
  • that wine he was so assotted and mad that he might make no delay, but
  • withouten any let he went to bed; and he weened that maiden Elaine had
  • been Queen Guenever. Wit you well that Sir Launcelot was glad, and so
  • was that lady Elaine that she had gotten Sir Launcelot in her arms. For
  • well she knew that same night should be gotten upon her Galahad that
  • should prove the best knight of the world; and so they lay together
  • until underne of the’ morn; and all the windows and holes of that
  • chamber were stopped that no manner of day might be seen. And then Sir
  • Launcelot remembered him, and he arose up and went to the window.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Launcelot was displeased when he knew that he had
  • lain by Dame Elaine, and how she was delivered of Galahad.
  • And anon as he had unshut the window the enchantment was gone; then he
  • knew himself that he had done amiss. Alas, he said, that I have lived
  • so long; now I am shamed. So then he gat his sword in his hand and
  • said: Thou traitress, what art thou that I have lain by all this night?
  • thou shalt die right here of my hands. Then this fair lady Elaine
  • skipped out of her bed all naked, and kneeled down afore Sir Launcelot,
  • and said: Fair courteous knight, come of king’s blood, I require you
  • have mercy upon me, and as thou art renowned the most noble knight of
  • the world, slay me not, for I have in my womb him by thee that shall be
  • the most noblest knight of the world. Ah, false traitress, said Sir
  • Launcelot, why hast thou betrayed me? anon tell me what thou art. Sir,
  • she said, I am Elaine, the daughter of King Pelles. Well, said Sir
  • Launcelot, I will forgive you this deed; and therewith he took her up
  • in his arms, and kissed her, for she was as fair a lady, and thereto
  • lusty and young, and as wise, as any was that time living. So God me
  • help, said Sir Launcelot, I may not wite this to you; but her that made
  • this enchantment upon me as between you and me, an I may find her, that
  • same Lady Brisen, she shall lose her head for witchcrafts, for there
  • was never knight deceived so as I am this night. And so Sir Launcelot
  • arrayed him, and armed him, and took his leave mildly at that lady
  • young Elaine, and so he departed. Then she said: My lord Sir Launcelot,
  • I beseech you see me as soon as ye may, for I have obeyed me unto the
  • prophecy that my father told me. And by his commandment to fulfil this
  • prophecy I have given the greatest riches and the fairest flower that
  • ever I had, and that is my maidenhood that I shall never have again;
  • and therefore, gentle knight, owe me your good will.
  • And so Sir Launcelot arrayed him and was armed, and took his leave
  • mildly at that young lady Elaine; and so he departed, and rode till he
  • came to the Castle of Corbin, where her father was. And as fast as her
  • time came she was delivered of a fair child, and they christened him
  • Galahad; and wit ye well that child was well kept and well nourished,
  • and he was named Galahad because Sir Launcelot was so named at the
  • fountain stone; and after that the Lady of the Lake confirmed him Sir
  • Launcelot du Lake.
  • Then after this lady was delivered and churched, there came a knight
  • unto her, his name was Sir Bromel la Pleche, the which was a great
  • lord; and he had loved that lady long, and he evermore desired her to
  • wed her; and so by no mean she could put him off, till on a day she
  • said to Sir Bromel: Wit thou well, sir knight, I will not love you, for
  • my love is set upon the best knight of the world. Who is he? said Sir
  • Bromel. Sir, she said, it is Sir Launcelot du Lake that I love and none
  • other, and therefore woo me no longer. Ye say well, said Sir Bromel,
  • and sithen ye have told me so much, ye shall have but little joy of Sir
  • Launcelot, for I shall slay him wheresomever I meet him. Sir, said the
  • Lady Elaine, do to him no treason. Wit ye well, my lady, said Bromel,
  • and I promise you this twelvemonth I shall keep the pont of Corbin for
  • Sir Launcelot’s sake, that he shall neither come nor go unto you, but I
  • shall meet with him.
  • CHAPTER IV. How Sir Bors came to Dame Elaine and saw Galahad, and how
  • he was fed with the Sangreal.
  • Then as it fell by fortune and adventure, Sir Bors de Ganis, that was
  • nephew unto Sir Launcelot, came over that bridge; and there Sir Bromel
  • and Sir Bors jousted, and Sir Bors smote Sir Bromel such a buffet that
  • he bare him over his horse’s croup. And then Sir Bromel, as an hardy
  • knight, pulled out his sword, and dressed his shield to do battle with
  • Sir Bors. And then Sir Bors alighted and avoided his horse, and there
  • they dashed together many sad strokes; and long thus they fought, till
  • at the last Sir Bromel was laid to the earth, and there Sir Bors began
  • to unlace his helm to slay him. Then Sir Bromel cried Sir Bors mercy,
  • and yielded him. Upon this covenant thou shalt have thy life, said Sir
  • Bors, so thou go unto Sir Launcelot upon Whitsunday that next cometh,
  • and yield thee unto him as knight recreant. I will do it, said Sir
  • Bromel, and that he sware upon the cross of the sword. And so he let
  • him depart, and Sir Bors rode unto King Pelles, that was within Corbin.
  • And when the king and Elaine his daughter wist that Sir Bors was nephew
  • unto Sir Launcelot, they made him great cheer. Then said Dame Elaine:
  • We marvel where Sir Launcelot is, for he came never here but once.
  • Marvel not, said Sir Bors, for this half year he hath been in prison
  • with Queen Morgan le Fay, King Arthur’s sister. Alas, said Dame Elaine,
  • that me repenteth. And ever Sir Bors beheld that child in her arms, and
  • ever him seemed it was passing like Sir Launcelot. Truly, said Elaine,
  • wit ye well this child he gat upon me. Then Sir Bors wept for joy, and
  • he prayed to God it might prove as good a knight as his father was. And
  • so came in a white dove, and she bare a little censer of gold in her
  • mouth, and there was all manner of meats and drinks; and a maiden bare
  • that Sangreal, and she said openly: Wit you well, Sir Bors, that this
  • child is Galahad, that shall sit in the Siege Perilous, and achieve the
  • Sangreal, and he shall be much better than ever was Sir Launcelot du
  • Lake, that is his own father. And then they kneeled down and made their
  • devotions, and there was such a savour as all the spicery in the world
  • had been there. And when the dove took her flight, the maiden vanished
  • with the Sangreal as she came.
  • Sir, said Sir Bors unto King Pelles, this castle may be named the
  • Castle Adventurous, for here be many strange adventures. That is sooth,
  • said the king, for well may this place be called the adventures place,
  • for there come but few knights here that go away with any worship; be
  • he never so strong, here he may be proved; and but late Sir Gawaine,
  • the good knight, gat but little worship here. For I let you wit, said
  • King Pelles, here shall no knight win no worship but if he be of
  • worship himself and of good living, and that loveth God and dreadeth
  • God, and else he getteth no worship here, be he never so hardy. That is
  • wonderful thing, said Sir Bors. What ye mean in this country I wot not,
  • for ye have many strange adventures, and therefore I will lie in this
  • castle this night. Ye shall not do so, said King Pelles, by my counsel,
  • for it is hard an ye escape without a shame. I shall take the adventure
  • that will befall me, said Sir Bors. Then I counsel you, said the king,
  • to be confessed clean. As for that, said Sir Bors, I will be shriven
  • with a good will. So Sir Bors was confessed, and for all women Sir Bors
  • was a virgin, save for one, that was the daughter of King Brangoris,
  • and on her he gat a child that hight Elaine, and save for her Sir Bors
  • was a clean maiden.
  • And so Sir Bors was led unto bed in a fair large chamber, and many
  • doors were shut about the chamber. When Sir Bors espied all those
  • doors, he avoided all the people, for he might have nobody with him;
  • but in no wise Sir Bors would unarm him, but so he laid him down upon
  • the bed. And right so he saw come in a light, that he might well see a
  • spear great and long that came straight upon him pointling, and to Sir
  • Bors seemed that the head of the spear brent like a taper. And anon, or
  • Sir Bors wist, the spear head smote him into the shoulder an
  • hand-breadth in deepness, and that wound grieved Sir Bors passing sore.
  • And then he laid him down again for pain; and anon therewithal there
  • came a knight armed with his shield on his shoulder and his sword in
  • his hand, and he bade Sir Bors: Arise, sir knight, and fight with me. I
  • am sore hurt, he said, but yet I shall not fail thee. And then Sir Bors
  • started up and dressed his shield; and then they lashed together
  • mightily a great while; and at the last Sir Bors bare him backward
  • until that he came unto a chamber door, and there that knight yede into
  • that chamber and rested him a great while. And when he had reposed him
  • he came out freshly again, and began new battle with Sir Bors mightily
  • and strongly.
  • CHAPTER V. How Sir Bors made Sir Pedivere to yield him, and of
  • marvellous adventures that he had, and how he achieved them.
  • Then Sir Bors thought he should no more go into that chamber to rest
  • him, and so Sir Bors dressed him betwixt the knight and that chamber
  • door, and there Sir Bors smote him down, and then that knight yielded
  • him What is your name? said Sir Bors. Sir, said he, my name is Pedivere
  • of the Straight Marches. So Sir Bors made him to swear at Whitsunday
  • next coming to be at the court of King Arthur, and yield him there as a
  • prisoner as an overcome knight by the hands of Sir Bors. So thus
  • departed Sir Pedivere of the Straight Marches. And then Sir Bors laid
  • him down to rest, and then he heard and felt much noise in that
  • chamber; and then Sir Bors espied that there came in, he wist not
  • whether at the doors nor windows, shot of arrows and of quarrels so
  • thick that he marvelled, and many fell upon him and hurt him in the
  • bare places.
  • And then Sir Bors was ware where came in an hideous lion; so Sir Bors
  • dressed him unto the lion, and anon the lion bereft him his shield, and
  • with his sword Sir Bors smote off the lion’s head. Right so Sir Bors
  • forthwithal saw a dragon in the court passing horrible, and there
  • seemed letters of gold written in his forehead; and Sir Bors thought
  • that the letters made a signification of King Arthur. Right so there
  • came an horrible leopard and an old, and there they fought long, and
  • did great battle together. And at the last the dragon spit out of his
  • mouth as it had been an hundred dragons; and lightly all the small
  • dragons slew the old dragon and tare him all to pieces.
  • Anon withal there came an old man into the hall, and he sat him down in
  • a fair chair, and there seemed to be two adders about his neck; and
  • then the old man had an harp, and there he sang an old song how Joseph
  • of Armathie came into this land. Then when he had sung, the old man
  • bade Sir Bors go from thence. For here shall ye have no more
  • adventures; and full worshipfully have ye done, and better shall ye do
  • hereafter. And then Sir Bors seemed that there came the whitest dove
  • with a little golden censer in her mouth. And anon therewithal the
  • tempest ceased and passed, that afore was marvellous to hear. So was
  • all that court full of good savours. Then Sir Bors saw four children
  • bearing four fair tapers, and an old man in the midst of the children
  • with a censer in his own hand, and a spear in his other hand, and that
  • spear was called the Spear of Vengeance.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Sir Bors departed; and how Sir Launcelot was rebuked of
  • Queen Guenever, and of his excuse.
  • Now, said that old man to Sir Bors, go ye to your cousin, Sir
  • Launcelot, and tell him of this adventure the which had been most
  • convenient for him of all earthly knights; but sin is so foul in him he
  • may not achieve such holy deeds, for had not been his sin he had passed
  • all the knights that ever were in his days; and tell thou Sir
  • Launcelot, of all worldly adventures he passeth in manhood and prowess
  • all other, but in this spiritual matters he shall have many his better.
  • And then Sir Bors saw four gentlewomen come by him, purely beseen: and
  • he saw where that they entered into a chamber where was great light as
  • it were a summer light; and the women kneeled down afore an altar of
  • silver with four pillars, and as it had been a bishop kneeled down
  • afore that table of silver. And as Sir Bors looked over his head he saw
  • a sword like silver, naked, hoving over his head, and the clearness
  • thereof smote so in his eyes that as at that time Sir Bors was blind;
  • and there he heard a voice that said: Go hence, thou Sir Bors, for as
  • yet thou art not worthy for to be in this place. And then he yede
  • backward to his bed till on the morn. And on the morn King Pelles made
  • great joy of Sir Bors; and then he departed and rode to Camelot, and
  • there he found Sir Launcelot du Lake, and told him of the adventures
  • that he had seen with King Pelles at Corbin.
  • So the noise sprang in Arthur’s court that Launcelot had gotten a child
  • upon Elaine, the daughter of King Pelles, wherefore Queen Guenever was
  • wroth, and gave many rebukes to Sir Launcelot, and called him false
  • knight. And then Sir Launcelot told the queen all, and how he was made
  • to lie by her by enchantment in likeness of the queen. So the queen
  • held Sir Launcelot excused. And as the book saith, King Arthur had been
  • in France, and had made war upon the mighty King Claudas, and had won
  • much of his lands. And when the king was come again he let cry a great
  • feast, that all lords and ladies of all England should be there, but if
  • it were such as were rebellious against him.
  • CHAPTER VII. How Dame Elaine, Galahad’s mother, came in great estate
  • unto Camelot, and how Sir Launcelot behaved him there.
  • And when Dame Elaine, the daughter of King Pelles, heard of this feast
  • she went to her father and required him that he would give her leave to
  • ride to that feast. The king answered: I will well ye go thither, but
  • in any wise as ye love me and will have my blessing, that ye be well
  • beseen in the richest wise; and look that ye spare not for no cost; ask
  • and ye shall have all that you needeth. Then by the advice of Dame
  • Brisen, her maiden, all thing was apparelled unto the purpose, that
  • there was never no lady more richlier beseen. So she rode with twenty
  • knights, and ten ladies, and gentlewomen, to the number of an hundred
  • horses. And when she came to Camelot, King Arthur and Queen Guenever
  • said, and all the knights, that Dame Elaine was the fairest and the
  • best beseen lady that ever was seen in that court. And anon as King
  • Arthur wist that she was come he met her and saluted her, and so did
  • the most part of all the knights of the Round Table, both Sir Tristram,
  • Sir Bleoberis, and Sir Gawaine, and many more that I will not rehearse.
  • But when Sir Launcelot saw her he was so ashamed, and that because he
  • drew his sword on the morn when he had lain by her, that he would not
  • salute her nor speak to her; and yet Sir Launcelot thought she was the
  • fairest woman that ever he saw in his life-days.
  • But when Dame Elaine saw Sir Launcelot that would not speak unto her
  • she was so heavy that she weened her heart would have to-brast; for wit
  • you well, out of measure she loved him. And then Elaine said unto her
  • woman, Dame Brisen: the unkindness of Sir Launcelot slayeth me near.
  • Ah, peace, madam, said Dame Brisen, I will undertake that this night he
  • shall lie with you, an ye would hold you still. That were me liefer,
  • said Dame Elaine, than all the gold that is above the earth. Let me
  • deal, said Dame Brisen. So when Elaine was brought unto Queen Guenever
  • either made other good cheer by countenance, but nothing with hearts.
  • But all men and women spake of the beauty of Dame Elaine, and of her
  • great riches.
  • Then, at night, the queen commanded that Dame Elaine should sleep in a
  • chamber nigh her chamber, and all under one roof; and so it was done as
  • the queen commanded. Then the queen sent for Sir Launcelot and bade him
  • come to her chamber that night: Or else I am sure, said the queen, that
  • ye will go to your lady’s bed, Dame Elaine, by whom ye gat Galahad. Ah,
  • madam, said Sir Launcelot, never say ye so, for that I did was against
  • my will. Then, said the queen, look that ye come to me when I send for
  • you. Madam, said Launcelot, I shall not fail you, but I shall be ready
  • at your commandment. This bargain was soon done and made between them,
  • but Dame Brisen knew it by her crafts, and told it to her lady, Dame
  • Elaine. Alas, said she, how shall I do? Let me deal, said Dame Brisen,
  • for I shall bring him by the hand even to your bed, and he shall ween
  • that I am Queen Guenever’s messenger. Now well is me, said Dame Elaine,
  • for all the world I love not so much as I do Sir Launcelot.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How Dame Brisen by enchantment brought Sir Launcelot to
  • Dame Elaine’s bed, and how Queen Guenever rebuked him.
  • So when time came that all folks were abed, Dame Brisen came to Sir
  • Launcelot’s bed’s side and said: Sir Launcelot du Lake, sleep you? My
  • lady, Queen Guenever, lieth and awaiteth upon you. O my fair lady, said
  • Sir Launcelot, I am ready to go with you where ye will have me. So Sir
  • Launcelot threw upon him a long gown, and his sword in his hand; and
  • then Dame Brisen took him by the finger and led him to her lady’s bed,
  • Dame Elaine; and then she departed and left them in bed together. Wit
  • you well the lady was glad, and so was Sir Launcelot, for he weened
  • that he had had another in his arms.
  • Now leave we them kissing and clipping, as was kindly thing; and now
  • speak we of Queen Guenever that sent one of her women unto Sir
  • Launcelot’s bed; and when she came there she found the bed cold, and he
  • was away; so she came to the queen and told her all. Alas, said the
  • queen, where is that false knight become? Then the queen was nigh out
  • of her wit, and then she writhed and weltered as a mad woman, and might
  • not sleep a four or five hours. Then Sir Launcelot had a condition that
  • he used of custom, he would clatter in his sleep, and speak oft of his
  • lady, Queen Guenever. So as Sir Launcelot had waked as long as it had
  • pleased him, then by course of kind he slept, and Dame Elaine both. And
  • in his sleep he talked and clattered as a jay, of the love that had
  • been betwixt Queen Guenever and him. And so as he talked so loud the
  • queen heard him thereas she lay in her chamber; and when she heard him
  • so clatter she was nigh wood and out of her mind, and for anger and
  • pain wist not what to do. And then she coughed so loud that Sir
  • Launcelot awaked, and he knew her hemming. And then he knew well that
  • he lay not by the queen; and therewith he leapt out of his bed as he
  • had been a wood man, in his shirt, and the queen met him in the floor;
  • and thus she said: False traitor knight that thou art, look thou never
  • abide in my court, and avoid my chamber, and not so hardy, thou false
  • traitor knight that thou art, that ever thou come in my sight. Alas,
  • said Sir Launcelot; and therewith he took such an heartly sorrow at her
  • words that he fell down to the floor in a swoon. And therewithal Queen
  • Guenever departed. And when Sir Launcelot awoke of his swoon, he leapt
  • out at a bay window into a garden, and there with thorns he was all
  • to-scratched in his visage and his body; and so he ran forth he wist
  • not whither, and was wild wood as ever was man; and so he ran two year,
  • and never man might have grace to know him.
  • CHAPTER IX. How Dame Elaine was commanded by Queen Guenever to avoid
  • the court, and how Sir Launcelot became mad.
  • Now turn we unto Queen Guenever and to the fair Lady Elaine, that when
  • Dame Elaine heard the queen so to rebuke Sir Launcelot, and also she
  • saw how he swooned, and how he leaped out at a bay window, then she
  • said unto Queen Guenever: Madam, ye are greatly to blame for Sir
  • Launcelot, for now have ye lost him, for I saw and heard by his
  • countenance that he is mad for ever. Alas, madam, ye do great sin, and
  • to yourself great dishonour, for ye have a lord of your own, and
  • therefore it is your part to love him; for there is no queen in this
  • world hath such another king as ye have. And, if ye were not, I might
  • have the love of my lord Sir Launcelot; and cause I have to love him
  • for he had my maidenhood, and by him I have borne a fair son, and his
  • name is Galahad, and he shall be in his time the best knight of the
  • world. Dame Elaine, said the queen, when it is daylight I charge you
  • and command you to avoid my court; and for the love ye owe unto Sir
  • Launcelot discover not his counsel, for an ye do, it will be his death.
  • As for that, said Dame Elaine, I dare undertake he is marred for ever,
  • and that have ye made; for ye, nor I, are like to rejoice him; for he
  • made the most piteous groans when he leapt out at yonder bay window
  • that ever I heard man make. Alas, said fair Elaine, and alas, said the
  • Queen Guenever, for now I wot well we have lost him for ever.
  • So on the morn Dame Elaine took her leave to depart, and she would no
  • longer abide. Then King Arthur brought her on her way with mo than an
  • hundred knights through a forest. And by the way she told Sir Bors de
  • Ganis all how it betid that same night, and how Sir Launcelot leapt out
  • at a window, araged out of his wit. Alas, said Sir Bors, where is my
  • lord, Sir Launcelot, become? Sir, said Elaine, I wot ne’er. Alas, said
  • Sir Bors, betwixt you both ye have destroyed that good knight. As for
  • me, said Dame Elaine, I said never nor did never thing that should in
  • any wise displease him, but with the rebuke that Queen Guenever gave
  • him I saw him swoon to the earth; and when he awoke he took his sword
  • in his hand, naked save his shirt, and leapt out at a window with the
  • grisliest groan that ever I heard man make. Now farewell, Dame Elaine,
  • said Sir Bors, and hold my lord Arthur with a tale as long as ye can,
  • for I will turn again to Queen Guenever and give her a hete; and I
  • require you, as ever ye will have my service, make good watch and espy
  • if ever ye may see my lord Sir Launcelot. Truly, said fair Elaine, I
  • shall do all that I may do, for as fain would I know and wit where he
  • is become, as you, or any of his kin, or Queen Guenever; and cause
  • great enough have I thereto as well as any other. And wit ye well, said
  • fair Elaine to Sir Bors, I would lose my life for him rather than he
  • should be hurt; but alas, I cast me never for to see him, and the chief
  • causer of this is Dame Guenever. Madam, said Dame Brisen, the which had
  • made the enchantment before betwixt Sir Launcelot and her, I pray you
  • heartily, let Sir Bors depart, and hie him with all his might as fast
  • as he may to seek Sir Launcelot, for I warn you he is clean out of his
  • mind; and yet he shall be well holpen an but by miracle.
  • Then wept Dame Elaine, and so did Sir Bors de Ganis; and so they
  • departed, and Sir Bors rode straight unto Queen Guenever. And when she
  • saw Sir Bors she wept as she were wood. Fie on your weeping, said Sir
  • Bors de Ganis, for ye weep never but when there is no bote. Alas, said
  • Sir Bors, that ever Sir Launcelot’s kin saw you, for now have ye lost
  • the best knight of our blood, and he that was all our leader and our
  • succour; and I dare say and make it good that all kings, christian nor
  • heathen, may not find such a knight, for to speak of his nobleness and
  • courtesy, with his beauty and his gentleness. Alas, said Sir Bors, what
  • shall we do that be of his blood? Alas, said Sir Ector de Maris. Alas,
  • said Lionel.
  • CHAPTER X. What sorrow Queen Guenever made for Sir Launcelot, and how
  • he was sought by knights of his kin.
  • And when the queen heard them say so she fell to the earth in a dead
  • swoon. And then Sir Bors took her up, and dawed her; and when she was
  • awaked she kneeled afore the three knights, and held up both her hands,
  • and besought them to seek him. And spare not for no goods but that he
  • be found, for I wot he is out of his mind. And Sir Bors, Sir Ector, and
  • Sir Lionel departed from the queen, for they might not abide no longer
  • for sorrow. And then the queen sent them treasure enough for their
  • expenses, and so they took their horses and their armour, and departed.
  • And then they rode from country to country, in forests, and in
  • wilderness, and in wastes; and ever they laid watch both at forests and
  • at all manner of men as they rode, to hearken and spere after him, as
  • he that was a naked man, in his shirt, with a sword in his hand. And
  • thus they rode nigh a quarter of a year, endlong and overthwart, in
  • many places, forests and wilderness, and oft-times were evil lodged for
  • his sake; and yet for all their labour and seeking could they never
  • hear word of him. And wit you well these three knights were passing
  • sorry.
  • Then at the last Sir Bors and his fellows met with a knight that hight
  • Sir Melion de Tartare. Now fair knight, said Sir Bors, whither be ye
  • away? for they knew either other afore time. Sir, said Melion, I am in
  • the way toward the court of King Arthur. Then we pray you, said Sir
  • Bors, that ye will tell my lord Arthur, and my lady, Queen Guenever,
  • and all the fellowship of the Round Table, that we cannot in no wise
  • hear tell where Sir Launcelot is become. Then Sir Melion departed from
  • them, and said that he would tell the king, and the queen, and all the
  • fellowship-of the Round Table, as they had desired him. So when Sir
  • Melion came to the court of King Arthur he told the king, and the
  • queen, and all the fellowship of the Round Table, what Sir Bors had
  • said of Sir Launcelot. Then Sir Gawaine, Sir Uwaine, Sir Sagramore le
  • Desirous, Sir Aglovale, and Sir Percivale de Galis took upon them by
  • the great desire of King Arthur, and in especial by the queen, to seek
  • throughout all England, Wales, and Scotland, to find Sir Launcelot, and
  • with them rode eighteen knights mo to bear them fellowship; and wit ye
  • well, they lacked no manner of spending; and so were they three and
  • twenty knights.
  • Now turn we to Sir Launcelot, and speak we of his care and woe, and
  • what pain he there endured; for cold, hunger, and thirst, he had
  • plenty. And thus as these noble knights rode together, they by one
  • assent departed, and then they rode by two, by three, and by four, and
  • by five, and ever they assigned where they should meet. And so Sir
  • Aglovale and Sir Percivale rode together unto their mother that was a
  • queen in those days. And when she saw her two sons, for joy she wept
  • tenderly. And then she said: Ah, my dear sons, when your father was
  • slain he left me four sons, of the which now be twain slain. And for
  • the death of my noble son, Sir Lamorak, shall my heart never be glad.
  • And then she kneeled down upon her knees to-fore Aglovale and Sir
  • Percivale, and besought them to abide at home with her. Ah, sweet
  • mother, said Sir Percivale, we may not, for we be come of king’s blood
  • of both parties, and therefore, mother, it is our kind to haunt arms
  • and noble deeds. Alas, my sweet sons, then she said, for your sakes I
  • shall lose my liking and lust, and then wind and weather I may not
  • endure, what for the death of your father, King Pellinore, that was
  • shamefully slain by the hands of Sir Gawaine, and his brother, Sir
  • Gaheris: and they slew him not manly but by treason. Ah, my dear sons,
  • this is a piteous complaint for me of your father’s death, considering
  • also the death of Sir Lamorak, that of knighthood had but few fellows.
  • Now, my dear sons, have this in your mind. Then there was but weeping
  • and sobbing in the court when they should depart, and she fell
  • a-swooning in midst of the court.
  • CHAPTER XI. How a servant of Sir Aglovale’s was slain, and what
  • vengeance Sir Aglovale and Sir Percivale did therefore.
  • And when she was awaked she sent a squire after them with spending
  • enough. And so when the squire had overtaken them, they would not
  • suffer him to ride with them, but sent him home again to comfort their
  • mother, praying her meekly of her blessing. And so this squire was
  • benighted, and by misfortune he happened to come to a castle where
  • dwelled a baron. And so when the squire was come into the castle, the
  • lord asked him from whence he came, and whom he served. My lord, said
  • the squire, I serve a good knight that is called Sir Aglovale: the
  • squire said it to good intent, weening unto him to have been more
  • forborne for Sir Aglovale’s sake, than he had said he had served the
  • queen, Aglovale’s mother. Well, my fellow, said the lord of that
  • castle, for Sir Aglovale’s sake thou shalt have evil lodging, for Sir
  • Aglovale slew my brother, and therefore thou shalt die on part of
  • payment. And then that lord commanded his men to have him away and slay
  • him; and so they did, and so pulled him out of the castle, and there
  • they slew him without mercy.
  • Right so on the morn came Sir Aglovale and Sir Percivale riding by a
  • churchyard, where men and women were busy, and beheld the dead squire,
  • and they thought to bury him. What is there, said Sir Aglovale, that ye
  • behold so fast? A good man stert forth and said: Fair knight, here
  • lieth a squire slain shamefully this night. How was he slain, fair
  • fellow? said Sir Aglovale. My fair sir, said the man, the lord of this
  • castle lodged this squire this night; and because he said he was
  • servant unto a good knight that is with King Arthur, his name is Sir
  • Aglovale, therefore the lord commanded to slay him, and for this cause
  • is he slain. Gramercy, said Sir Aglovale, and ye shall see his death
  • revenged lightly; for I am that same knight for whom this squire was
  • slain.
  • Then Sir Aglovale called unto him Sir Percivale, and bade him alight
  • lightly; and so they alighted both, and betook their horses to their
  • men, and so they yede on foot into the castle. And all so soon as they
  • were within the castle gate Sir Aglovale bade the porter: Go thou unto
  • thy lord and tell him that I am Sir Aglovale for whom this squire was
  • slain this night. Anon the porter told this to his lord, whose name was
  • Goodewin. Anon he armed him, and then he came into the court and said:
  • Which of you is Sir Aglovale? Here I am, said Aglovale: for what cause
  • slewest thou this night my mother’s squire? I slew him, said Sir
  • Goodewin, because of thee, for thou slewest my brother, Sir Gawdelin.
  • As for thy brother, said Sir Aglovale, I avow it I slew him, for he was
  • a false knight and a betrayer of ladies and of good knights; and for
  • the death of my squire thou shalt die. I defy thee, said Sir Goodewin.
  • Then they lashed together as eagerly as it had been two lions, and Sir
  • Percivale he fought with all the remnant that would fight. And within a
  • while Sir Percivale had slain all that would withstand him; for Sir
  • Percivale dealt so his strokes that were so rude that there durst no
  • man abide him. And within a while Sir Aglovale had Sir Goodewin at the
  • earth, and there he unlaced his helm, and struck off his head. And then
  • they departed and took their horses; and then they let carry the dead
  • squire unto a priory, and there they interred him.
  • CHAPTER XII. How Sir Pervivale departed secretly from his brother, and
  • how he loosed a knight bound with a chain, and of other doings.
  • And when this was done they rode into many countries, ever inquiring
  • after Sir Launcelot, but never they could hear of him; and at the last
  • they came to a castle that hight Cardican, and there Sir Percivale and
  • Sir Aglovale were lodged together. And privily about midnight Sir
  • Percivale came to Aglovale’s squire and said: Arise and make thee
  • ready, for ye and I will ride away secretly. Sir, said the squire, I
  • would full fain ride with you where ye would have me, but an my lord,
  • your brother, take me he will slay me. As for that care thou not, for I
  • shall be thy warrant.
  • And so Sir Percivale rode till it was after noon, and then he came upon
  • a bridge of stone, and there he found a knight that was bound with a
  • chain fast about the waist unto a pillar of stone. O fair knight, said
  • that bound knight, I require thee loose me of my bonds. What knight are
  • ye, said Sir Percivale, and for what cause are ye so bound? Sir, I
  • shall tell you, said that knight: I am a knight of the Table Round, and
  • my name is Sir Persides; and thus by adventure I came this way, and
  • here I lodged in this castle at the bridge foot, and therein dwelleth
  • an uncourteous lady; and because she proffered me to be her paramour,
  • and I refused her, she set her men upon me suddenly or ever I might
  • come to my weapon; and thus they bound me, and here I wot well I shall
  • die but if some man of worship break my bands. Be ye of good cheer,
  • said Sir Percivale, and because ye are a knight of the Round Table as
  • well as I, I trust to God to break your bands. And therewith Sir
  • Percivale pulled out his sword and struck at the chain with such a
  • might that he cut a-two the chain, and through Sir Persides’ hauberk
  • and hurt him a little. O Jesu, said Sir Persides, that was a mighty
  • stroke as ever I felt one, for had not the chain been ye had slain me.
  • And therewithal Sir Persides saw a knight coming out of a castle all
  • that ever he might fling. Beware, sir, said Sir Persides, yonder cometh
  • a man that will have ado with you. Let him come, said Sir Percivale.
  • And so he met with that knight in midst of the bridge; and Sir
  • Percivale gave him such a buffet that he smote him quite from his horse
  • and over a part of the bridge, that, had not been a little vessel under
  • the bridge, that knight had been drowned. And then Sir Percivale took
  • the knight’s horse and made Sir Persides to mount up him; and so they
  • rode unto the castle, and bade the lady deliver Sir Persides’ servants,
  • or else he would slay all that ever he found; and so for fear she
  • delivered them all. Then was Sir Percivale ware of a lady that stood in
  • that tower. Ah, madam, said Sir Percivale, what use and custom is that
  • in a lady to destroy good knights but if they will be your paramour?
  • Forsooth this is a shameful custom of a lady, and if I had not a great
  • matter in my hand I should fordo your evil customs.
  • And so Sir Persides brought Sir Percivale unto his own castle, and
  • there he made him great cheer all that night. And on the morn, when Sir
  • Percivale had heard mass and broken his fast, he bade Sir Persides ride
  • unto King Arthur: And tell the king how that ye met with me; and tell
  • my brother, Sir Aglovale, how I rescued you; and bid him seek not after
  • me, for I am in the quest to seek Sir Launcelot du Lake, and though he
  • seek me he shall not find me; and tell him I will never see him, nor
  • the court, till I have found Sir Launcelot. Also tell Sir Kay the
  • Seneschal, and to Sir Mordred, that I trust to Jesu to be of as great
  • worthiness as either of them, for tell them I shall never forget their
  • mocks and scorns that they did to me that day that I was made knight;
  • and tell them I will never see that court till men speak more worship
  • of me than ever men did of any of them both. And so Sir Persides
  • departed from Sir Percivale, and then he rode unto King Arthur, and
  • told there of Sir Percivale. And when Sir Aglovale heard him speak of
  • his brother Sir Percivale, he said: He departed from me unkindly.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How Sir Percivale met with Sir Ector, and how they fought
  • long, and each had almost slain other.
  • Sir, said Sir Persides, on my life he shall prove a noble knight as any
  • now is living. And when he saw Sir Kay and Sir Mordred, Sir Persides
  • said thus: My fair lords both, Sir Percivale greeteth you well both,
  • and he sent you word by me that he trusteth to God or ever he come to
  • the court again to be of as great noblesse as ever were ye both, and mo
  • men to speak of his noblesse than ever they did of you. It may well be,
  • said Sir Kay and Sir Mordred, but at that time when he was made knight
  • he was full unlike to prove a good knight. As for that, said King
  • Arthur, he must needs prove a good knight, for his father and his
  • brethren were noble knights
  • And now will we turn unto Sir Percivale that rode long; and in a forest
  • he met a knight with a broken shield and a broken helm; and as soon as
  • either saw other readily they made them ready to joust, and so hurtled
  • together with all the might of their horses, and met together so hard,
  • that Sir Percivale was smitten to the earth. And then Sir Percivale
  • arose lightly, and cast his shield on his shoulder and drew his sword,
  • and bade the other knight Alight, and do we battle unto the uttermost.
  • Will ye more? said that knight. And therewith he alighted, and put his
  • horse from him; and then they came together an easy pace, and there
  • they lashed together with noble swords, and sometime they struck and
  • sometime they foined, and either gave other many great wounds. Thus
  • they fought near half a day, and never rested but right little, and
  • there was none of them both that had less wounds than fifteen, and they
  • bled so much that it was marvel they stood on their feet. But this
  • knight that fought with Sir Percivale was a proved knight and a
  • wise-fighting knight, and Sir Percivale was young and strong, not
  • knowing in fighting as the other was.
  • Then Sir Percivale spoke first, and said: Sir knight, hold thy hand a
  • while still, for we have fought for a simple matter and quarrel
  • overlong, and therefore I require thee tell me thy name, for I was
  • never or this time matched. So God me help, said that knight, and never
  • or this time was there never knight that wounded me so sore as thou
  • hast done, and yet have I fought in many battles; and now shalt thou
  • wit that I am a knight of the Table Round, and my name is Sir Ector de
  • Maris, brother unto the good knight, Sir Launcelot du Lake. Alas, said
  • Sir Percivale, and my name is Sir Percivale de Galis that hath made my
  • quest to seek Sir Launcelot, and now I am siker that I shall never
  • finish my quest, for ye have slain me with your hands. It is not so,
  • said Sir Ector, for I am slain by your hands, and may not live.
  • Therefore I require you, said Sir Ector unto Sir Percivale, ride ye
  • hereby to a priory, and bring me a priest that I may receive my
  • Saviour, for I may not live. And when ye come to the court of King
  • Arthur tell not my brother, Sir Launcelot, how that ye slew me, for
  • then he would be your mortal enemy, but ye may say that I was slain in
  • my quest as I sought him. Alas, said Sir Percivale, ye say that never
  • will be, for I am so faint for bleeding that I may unnethe stand, how
  • should I then take my horse?
  • CHAPTER XIV. How by miracle they were both made whole by the coming of
  • the holy vessel of Sangreal.
  • Then they made both great dole out of measure. This will not avail,
  • said Sir Percivale. And then he kneeled down and made his prayer
  • devoutly unto Almighty Jesu, for he was one of the best knights of the
  • world that at that time was, in whom the very faith stood most in.
  • Right so there came by the holy vessel of the Sangreal with all manner
  • of sweetness and savour; but they could not readily see who that bare
  • that vessel, but Sir Percivale had a glimmering of the vessel and of
  • the maiden that bare it, for he was a perfect clean maiden; and
  • forthwithal they both were as whole of hide and limb as ever they were
  • in their life-days: then they gave thankings to God with great
  • mildness. O Jesu, said Sir Percivale, what may this mean, that we be
  • thus healed, and right now we were at the point of dying? I wot full
  • well, said Sir Ector, what it is; it is an holy vessel that is borne by
  • a maiden, and therein is part of the holy blood of our Lord Jesu
  • Christ, blessed mote he be. But it may not be seen, said Sir Ector, but
  • if it be by a perfect man. So God me help, said Sir Percivale, I saw a
  • damosel, as me thought, all in white, with a vessel in both her hands,
  • and forthwithal I was whole.
  • So then they took their horses and their harness, and amended their
  • harness as well as they might that was broken; and so they mounted upon
  • their horses, and rode talking together. And there Sir Ector de Maris
  • told Sir Percivale how he had sought his brother, Sir Launcelot, long,
  • and never could hear witting of him: In many strange adventures have I
  • been in this quest. And so either told other of their adventures.
  • _Here endeth the eleventh book. And here followeth the twelfth book._
  • BOOK XII.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Launcelot in his madness took a sword and fought
  • with a knight, and leapt in a bed.
  • And now leave we of a while of Sir Ector and of Sir Percivale, and
  • speak we of Sir Launcelot that suffered and endured many sharp showers,
  • that ever ran wild wood from place to place, and lived by fruit and
  • such as he might get, and drank water two year; and other clothing had
  • he but little but his shirt and his breech. Thus as Sir Launcelot
  • wandered here and there he came in a fair meadow where he found a
  • pavilion; and there by, upon a tree, there hung a white shield, and two
  • swords hung thereby, and two spears leaned there by a tree. And when
  • Sir Launcelot saw the swords, anon he leapt to the one sword, and took
  • it in his hand, and drew it out. And then he lashed at the shield, that
  • all the meadow rang of the dints, that he gave such a noise as ten
  • knights had foughten together.
  • Then came forth a dwarf, and leapt unto Sir Launcelot, and would have
  • had the sword out of his hand. And then Sir Launcelot took him by the
  • both shoulders and threw him to the ground upon his neck, that he had
  • almost broken his neck; and therewithal the dwarf cried help. Then came
  • forth a likely knight, and well apparelled in scarlet furred with
  • minever. And anon as he saw Sir Launcelot he deemed that he should be
  • out of his wit. And then he said with fair speech: Good man, lay down
  • that sword, for as meseemeth thou hadst more need of sleep and of warm
  • clothes than to wield that sword. As for that, said Sir Launcelot, come
  • not too nigh, for an thou do, wit thou well I will slay thee.
  • And when the knight of the pavilion saw that, he stert backward within
  • the pavilion. And then the dwarf armed him lightly; and so the knight
  • thought by force and might to take the sword from Sir Launcelot, and so
  • he came stepping out; and when Sir Launcelot saw him come so all armed
  • with his sword in his hand, then Sir Launcelot flew to him with such a
  • might, and hit him upon the helm such a buffet, that the stroke
  • troubled his brains, and therewith the sword brake in three. And the
  • knight fell to the earth as he had been dead, the blood brasting out of
  • his mouth, the nose, and the ears. And then Sir Launcelot ran into the
  • pavilion, and rushed even into the warm bed; and there was a lady in
  • that bed, and she gat her smock, and ran out of the pavilion. And when
  • she saw her lord lie at the ground like to be dead, then she cried and
  • wept as she had been mad. Then with her noise the knight awaked out of
  • his swoon, and looked up weakly with his eyes; and then he asked her,
  • where was that mad man that had given him such a buffet: For such a
  • buffet had I never of man’s hand. Sir, said the dwarf, it is not
  • worship to hurt him, for he is a man out of his wit; and doubt ye not
  • he hath been a man of great worship, and for some heartly sorrow that
  • he hath taken, he is fallen mad; and me beseemeth, said the dwarf, he
  • resembleth much unto Sir Launcelot, for him I saw at the great
  • tournament beside Lonazep. Jesu defend, said that knight, that ever
  • that noble knight, Sir Launcelot, should be in such a plight; but
  • whatsomever he be, said that knight, harm will I none do him: and this
  • knight’s name was Bliant. Then he said unto the dwarf: Go thou fast on
  • horseback, unto my brother Sir Selivant, that is at the Castle Blank,
  • and tell him of mine adventure, and bid him bring with him an horse
  • litter, and then will we bear this knight unto my castle.
  • CHAPTER II. How Sir Lancelot was carried in an horse litter, and how
  • Sir Launcelot rescued Sir Bliant, his host.
  • So the dwarf rode fast, and he came again and brought Sir Selivant with
  • him, and six men with an horse litter; and so they took up the feather
  • bed with Sir Launcelot, and so carried all away with them unto the
  • Castle Blank, and he never awaked till he was within the castle. And
  • then they bound his hands and his feet, and gave him good meats and
  • good drinks, and brought him again to his strength and his fairness;
  • but in his wit they could not bring him again, nor to know himself.
  • Thus was Sir Launcelot there more than a year and a half, honestly
  • arrayed and fair faren withal.
  • Then upon a day this lord of that castle, Sir Bliant, took his arms, on
  • horseback, with a spear, to seek adventures. And as he rode in a forest
  • there met with him two knights adventurous, the one was Breuse Saunce
  • Pité, and his brother, Sir Bertelot; and these two ran both at once
  • upon Sir Bliant, and brake their spears upon his body. And then they
  • drew out swords and made great battle, and fought long together. But at
  • the last Sir Bliant was sore wounded, and felt himself faint; and then
  • he fled on horseback toward his castle. And as they came hurling under
  • the castle whereas Sir Launcelot lay in a window, [he] saw how two
  • knights laid upon Sir Bliant with their swords. And when Sir Launcelot
  • saw that, yet as wood as he was he was sorry for his lord, Sir Bliant.
  • And then Sir Launcelot brake the chains from his legs and off his arms,
  • and in the breaking he hurt his hands sore; and so Sir Launcelot ran
  • out at a postern, and there he met with the two knights that chased Sir
  • Bliant; and there he pulled down Sir Bertelot with his bare hands from
  • his horse, and therewithal he wrothe his sword out of his hand; and so
  • he leapt unto Sir Breuse, and gave him such a buffet upon the head that
  • he tumbled backward over his horse’s croup. And when Sir Bertelot saw
  • there his brother have such a fall, he gat a spear in his hand, and
  • would have run Sir Launcelot through: that saw Sir Bliant, and struck
  • off the hand of Sir Bertelot. And then Sir Breuse and Sir Bertelot gat
  • their horses and fled away.
  • When Sir Selivant came and saw what Sir Launcelot had done for his
  • brother, then he thanked God, and so did his brother, that ever they
  • did him any good. But when Sir Bliant saw that Sir Launcelot was hurt
  • with the breaking of his irons, then was he heavy that ever he bound
  • him. Bind him no more, said Sir Selivant, for he is happy and gracious.
  • Then they made great joy of Sir Launcelot, and they bound him no more;
  • and so he abode there an half year and more. And on the morn early Sir
  • Launcelot was ware where came a great boar with many hounds nigh him.
  • But the boar was so big there might no hounds tear him; and the hunters
  • came after, blowing their horns, both upon horseback and some upon
  • foot; and then Sir Launcelot was ware where one alighted and tied his
  • horse to a tree, and leaned his spear against the tree.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Launcelot fought against a boar and slew him, and
  • how he was hurt, and brought unto an hermitage.
  • So came Sir Launcelot and found the horse bounden till a tree, and a
  • spear leaning against a tree, and a sword tied to the saddle bow; and
  • then Sir Launcelot leapt into the saddle and gat that spear in his
  • hand, and then he rode after the boar; and then Sir Launcelot was ware
  • where the boar set his arse to a tree fast by an hermitage. Then Sir
  • Launcelot ran at the boar with his spear, and therewith the boar turned
  • him nimbly, and rove out the lungs and the heart of the horse, so that
  • Launcelot fell to the earth; and, or ever Sir Launcelot might get from
  • the horse, the boar rove him on the brawn of the thigh up to the hough
  • bone. And then Sir Launcelot was wroth, and up he gat upon his feet,
  • and drew his sword, and he smote off the boar’s head at one stroke. And
  • therewithal came out the hermit, and saw him have such a wound. Then
  • the hermit came to Sir Launcelot and bemoaned him, and would have had
  • him home unto his hermitage; but when Sir Launcelot heard him speak, he
  • was so wroth with his wound that he ran upon the hermit to have slain
  • him, and the hermit ran away. And when Sir Launcelot might not overget
  • him, he threw his sword after him, for Sir Launcelot might go no
  • further for bleeding; then the hermit turned again, and asked Sir
  • Launcelot how he was hurt. Fellow, said Sir Launcelot, this boar hath
  • bitten me sore. Then come with me, said the hermit, and I shall heal
  • you. Go thy way, said Sir Launcelot, and deal not with me.
  • Then the hermit ran his way, and there he met with a good knight with
  • many men. Sir, said the hermit, here is fast by my place the goodliest
  • man that ever I saw, and he is sore wounded with a boar, and yet he
  • hath slain the boar. But well I wot, said the hermit, and he be not
  • holpen, that goodly man shall die of that wound, and that were great
  • pity. Then that knight at the desire of the hermit gat a cart, and in
  • that cart that knight put the boar and Sir Launcelot, for Sir Launcelot
  • was so feeble that they might right easily deal with him; and so Sir
  • Launcelot was brought unto the hermitage, and there the hermit healed
  • him of his wound. But the hermit might not find Sir Launcelot’s
  • sustenance, and so he impaired and waxed feeble, both of his body and
  • of his wit: for the default of his sustenance he waxed more wooder than
  • he was aforehand.
  • And then upon a day Sir Launcelot ran his way into the forest; and by
  • adventure he came to the city of Corbin, where Dame Elaine was, that
  • bare Galahad, Sir Launcelot’s son. And so when he was entered into the
  • town he ran through the town to the castle; and then all the young men
  • of that city ran after Sir Launcelot, and there they threw turves at
  • him, and gave him many sad strokes. And ever as Sir Launcelot might
  • overreach any of them, he threw them so that they would never come in
  • his hands no more; for of some he brake the legs and the arms, and so
  • fled into the castle; and then came out knights and squires and rescued
  • Sir Launcelot. And when they beheld him and looked upon his person,
  • they thought they saw never so goodly a man. And when they saw so many
  • wounds upon him, all they deemed that he had been a man of worship. And
  • then they ordained him clothes to his body, and straw underneath him,
  • and a little house. And then every day they would throw him meat, and
  • set him drink, but there was but few would bring him meat to his hands.
  • CHAPTER IV. How Sir Launcelot was known by Dame Elaine, and was borne
  • into a chamber and after healed by the Sangreal.
  • So it befell that King Pelles had a nephew, his name was Castor; and so
  • he desired of the king to be made knight, and so at the request of this
  • Castor the king made him knight at the feast of Candlemas. And when Sir
  • Castor was made knight, that same day he gave many gowns. And then Sir
  • Castor sent for the fool—that was Sir Launcelot. And when he was come
  • afore Sir Castor, he gave Sir Launcelot a robe of scarlet and all that
  • longed unto him. And when Sir Launcelot was so arrayed like a knight,
  • he was the seemliest man in all the court, and none so well made. So
  • when he saw his time he went into the garden, and there Sir Launcelot
  • laid him down by a well and slept. And so at-after noon Dame Elaine and
  • her maidens came into the garden to play them; and as they roamed up
  • and down one of Dame Elaine’s maidens espied where lay a goodly man by
  • the well sleeping, and anon showed him to Dame Elaine. Peace, said Dame
  • Elaine, and say no word: and then she brought Dame Elaine where he lay.
  • And when that she beheld him, anon she fell in remembrance of him, and
  • knew him verily for Sir Launcelot; and therewithal she fell a-weeping
  • so heartily that she sank even to the earth; and when she had thus wept
  • a great while, then she arose and called her maidens and said she was
  • sick.
  • And so she yede out of the garden, and she went straight to her father,
  • and there she took him apart by herself; and then she said: O father,
  • now have I need of your help, and but if that ye help me farewell my
  • good days for ever. What is that, daughter? said King Pelles. Sir, she
  • said, thus is it: in your garden I went for to sport, and there, by the
  • well, I found Sir Launcelot du Lake sleeping. I may not believe that,
  • said King Pelles. Sir, she said, truly he is there, and meseemeth he
  • should be distract out of his wit. Then hold you still, said the king,
  • and let me deal. Then the king called to him such as he most trusted, a
  • four persons, and Dame Elaine, his daughter. And when they came to the
  • well and beheld Sir Launcelot, anon Dame Brisen knew him. Sir, said
  • Dame Brisen, we must be wise how we deal with him, for this knight is
  • out of his mind, and if we awake him rudely what he will do we all know
  • not; but ye shall abide, and I shall throw such an enchantment upon him
  • that he shall not awake within the space of an hour; and so she did.
  • Then within a little while after, the king commanded that all people
  • should avoid, that none should be in that way thereas the king would
  • come. And so when this was done, these four men and these ladies laid
  • hand on Sir Launcelot, and so they bare him into a tower, and so into a
  • chamber where was the holy vessel of the Sangreal, and by force Sir
  • Launcelot was laid by that holy vessel; and there came an holy man and
  • unhilled that vessel, and so by miracle and by virtue of that holy
  • vessel Sir Launcelot was healed and recovered. And when that he was
  • awaked he groaned and sighed, and complained greatly that he was
  • passing sore.
  • CHAPTER V. How Sir Launcelot, after that he was whole and had his mind,
  • he was ashamed, and how that Elaine desired a castle for him.
  • And when Sir Launcelot saw King Pelles and Elaine, he waxed ashamed and
  • said thus: O Lord Jesu, how came I here? for God’s sake, my lord, let
  • me wit how I came here. Sir, said Dame Elaine, into this country ye
  • came like a madman, clean out of your wit, and here have ye been kept
  • as a fool; and no creature here knew what ye were, until by fortune a
  • maiden of mine brought me unto you whereas ye lay sleeping by a well,
  • and anon as I verily beheld you I knew you. And then I told my father,
  • and so were ye brought afore this holy vessel, and by the virtue of it
  • thus were ye healed. O Jesu, mercy, said Sir Launcelot; if this be
  • sooth, how many there be that know of my woodness! So God me help, said
  • Elaine, no more but my father, and I, and Dame Brisen. Now for Christ’s
  • love, said Sir Launcelot, keep it in counsel, and let no man know it in
  • the world, for I am sore ashamed that I have been thus miscarried; for
  • I am banished out of the country of Logris for ever, that is for to say
  • the country of England.
  • And so Sir Launcelot lay more than a fortnight or ever that he might
  • stir for soreness. And then upon a day he said unto Dame Elaine these
  • words: Lady Elaine, for your sake I have had much travail, care, and
  • anguish, it needeth not to rehearse it, ye know how. Notwithstanding I
  • know well I have done foul to you when that I drew my sword to you, to
  • have slain you, upon the morn when I had lain with you. And all was the
  • cause, that ye and Dame Brisen made me for to lie by you maugre mine
  • head; and as ye say, that night Galahad your son was begotten. That is
  • truth, said Dame Elaine. Now will ye for my love, said Sir Launcelot,
  • go unto your father and get me a place of him wherein I may dwell? for
  • in the court of King Arthur may I never come. Sir, said Dame Elaine, I
  • will live and die with you, and only for your sake; and if my life
  • might not avail you and my death might avail you, wit you well I would
  • die for your sake. And I will go to my father and I am sure there is
  • nothing that I can desire of him but I shall have it. And where ye be,
  • my lord Sir Launcelot, doubt ye not but I will be with you with all the
  • service that I may do. So forthwithal she went to her father and said,
  • Sir, my lord, Sir Launcelot, desireth to be here by you in some castle
  • of yours. Well daughter, said the king, sith it is his desire to abide
  • in these marches he shall be in the Castle of Bliant, and there shall
  • ye be with him, and twenty of the fairest ladies that be in the
  • country, and they shall all be of the great blood, and ye shall have
  • ten knights with you; for, daughter, I will that ye wit we all be
  • honoured by the blood of Sir Launcelot.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Sir Launcelot came into the joyous Isle, and there he
  • named himself Le Chevaler Mal Fet.
  • Then went Dame Elaine unto Sir Launcelot, and told him all how her
  • father had devised for him and her. Then came the knight Sir Castor,
  • that was nephew unto Kong Pelles, unto Sir Launcelot, and asked him
  • what was his name. Sir, said Sir Launcelot, my name is Le Chevaler Mal
  • Fet, that is to say the knight that hath trespassed. Sir, said Sir
  • Castor, it may well be so, but ever meseemeth your name should be Sir
  • Launcelot du Lake, for or now I have seen you. Sir, said Launcelot, ye
  • are not as a gentle knight: I put case my name were Sir Launcelot, and
  • that it list me not to discover my name, what should it grieve you here
  • to keep my counsel, and ye be not hurt thereby? but wit thou well an
  • ever it lie in my power I shall grieve you, and that I promise you
  • truly. Then Sir Castor kneeled down and besought Sir Launcelot of
  • mercy: For I shall never utter what ye be, while that ye be in these
  • parts. Then Sir Launcelot pardoned him.
  • And then, after this, King Pelles with ten knights, and Dame Elaine,
  • and twenty ladies, rode unto the Castle of Bliant that stood in an
  • island beclosed in iron, with a fair water deep and large. And when
  • they were there Sir Launcelot let call it the Joyous Isle; and there
  • was he called none otherwise but Le Chevaler Mal Fet, the knight that
  • hath trespassed. Then Sir Launcelot let make him a shield all of sable,
  • and a queen crowned in the midst, all of silver, and a knight clean
  • armed kneeling afore her. And every day once, for any mirths that all
  • the ladies might make him, he would once every day look toward the
  • realm of Logris, where King Arthur and Queen Guenever was. And then
  • would he fall upon a weeping as his heart should to-brast.
  • So it fell that time Sir Launcelot heard of a jousting fast by his
  • castle, within three leagues. Then he called unto him a dwarf, and he
  • bade him go unto that jousting. And or ever the knights depart, look
  • thou make there a cry, in hearing of all the knights, that there is one
  • knight in the Joyous Isle, that is the Castle of Bliant, and say his
  • name is Le Chevaler Mal Fet, that will joust against knights that will
  • come. And who that putteth that knight to the worse shall have a fair
  • maid and a gerfalcon.
  • CHAPTER VII. Of a great tourneying in the Joyous Isle, and how Sir
  • Pervivale and Sir Ector came thither, and Sir Percivale fought with
  • him.
  • So when this cry was made, unto Joyous Isle drew knights to the number
  • of five hundred; and wit ye well there was never seen in Arthur’s days
  • one knight that did so much deeds of arms as Sir Launcelot did three
  • days together; for as the book maketh truly mention, he had the better
  • of all the five hundred knights, and there was not one slain of them.
  • And after that Sir Launcelot made them all a great feast.
  • And in the meanwhile came Sir Percivale de Galis and Sir Ector de Maris
  • under that castle that was called the Joyous Isle. And as they beheld
  • that gay castle they would have gone to that castle, but they might not
  • for the broad water, and bridge could they find none. Then they saw on
  • the other side a lady with a sperhawk on her hand, and Sir Percivale
  • called unto her, and asked that lady who was in that castle. Fair
  • knights, she said, here within this castle is the fairest lady in this
  • land, and her name is Elaine. Also we have in this castle the fairest
  • knight and the mightiest man that is I dare say living, and he called
  • himself Le Chevaler Mal Fet. How came he into these marches? said Sir
  • Percivale. Truly, said the damosel, he came into this country like a
  • mad man, with dogs and boys chasing him through the city of Corbin, and
  • by the holy vessel of the Sangreal he was brought into his wit again;
  • but he will not do battle with no knight, but by underne or by noon.
  • And if ye list to come into the castle, said the lady, ye must ride
  • unto the further side of the castle and there shall ye find a vessel
  • that will bear you and your horse. Then they departed, and came unto
  • the vessel. And then Sir Percivale alighted, and said to Sir Ector de
  • Maris: Ye shall abide me here until that I wit what manner a knight he
  • is; for it were shame unto us, inasmuch as he is but one knight, an we
  • should both do battle with him. Do ye as ye list, said Sir Ector, and
  • here I shall abide you until that I hear of you
  • Then passed Sir Percivale the water, and when he came to the castle
  • gate he bade the porter: Go thou to the good knight within the castle,
  • and tell him here is come an errant knight to joust with him. Sir, said
  • the porter, ride ye within the castle, and there is a common place for
  • jousting, that lords and ladies may behold you. So anon as Sir
  • Launcelot had warning he was soon ready; and there Sir Percivale and
  • Sir Launcelot encountered with such a might, and their spears were so
  • rude, that both the horses and the knights fell to the earth. Then they
  • avoided their horses, and flang out noble swords, and hewed away
  • cantels of their shields, and hurtled together with their shields like
  • two boars, and either wounded other passing sore. At the last Sir
  • Percivale spake first when they had foughten there more than two hours.
  • Fair knight, said Sir Percivale, I require thee tell me thy name, for I
  • met never with such a knight. Sir, said Sir Launcelot, my name is Le
  • Chevaler Mal Fet. Now tell me your name, said Sir Launcelot, I require
  • you, gentle knight. Truly, said Sir Percivale, my name is Sir Percivale
  • de Galis, that was brother unto the good knight, Sir Lamorak de Galis,
  • and King Pellinore was our father, and Sir Aglovale is my brother.
  • Alas, said Sir Launcelot, what have I done to fight with you that art a
  • knight of the Round Table, that sometime was your fellow?
  • CHAPTER VIlI. How each of them knew other, and of their great courtesy,
  • and how his brother Sir Ector came unto him, and of their joy.
  • And therewithal Sir Launcelot kneeled down upon his knees, and threw
  • away his shield and his sword from him. When Sir Percivale saw him do
  • so he marvelled what he meant. And then thus he said: Sir knight,
  • whatsomever thou be, I require thee upon the high order of knighthood,
  • tell me thy true name. Then he said: So God me help, my name is Sir
  • Launcelot du Lake, King Ban’s son of Benoy. Alas, said Sir Percivale,
  • what have I done? I was sent by the queen for to seek you, and so I
  • have sought you nigh this two year, and yonder is Sir Ector de Maris,
  • your brother abideth me on the other side of the yonder water. Now for
  • God’s sake, said Sir Percivale, forgive me mine offences that I have
  • here done. It is soon forgiven, said Sir Launcelot.
  • Then Sir Percivale sent for Sir Ector de Maris, and when Sir Launcelot
  • had a sight of him, he ran unto him and took him in his arms; and then
  • Sir Ector kneeled down, and either wept upon other, that all had pity
  • to behold them. Then came Dame Elaine and she there made them great
  • cheer as might lie in her power; and there she told Sir Ector and Sir
  • Percivale how and in what manner Sir Launcelot came into that country,
  • and how he was healed; and there it was known how long Sir Launcelot
  • was with Sir Bliant and with Sir Selivant, and how he first met with
  • them, and how he departed from them because of a boar; and how the
  • hermit healed Sir Launcelot of his great wound, and how that he came to
  • Corbin.
  • CHAPTER IX. How Sir Bors and Sir Lionel came to King Brandegore, and
  • how Sir Bors took his son Helin le Blank, and of Sir Launcelot.
  • Now leave we Sir Launcelot in the Joyous Isle with the Lady Dame
  • Elaine, and Sir Percivale and Sir Ector playing with them, and turn we
  • to Sir Bors de Ganis and Sir Lionel, that had sought Sir Launcelot nigh
  • by the space of two year, and never could they hear of him. And as they
  • thus rode, by adventure they came to the house of Brandegore, and there
  • Sir Bors was well known, for he had gotten a child upon the king’s
  • daughter fifteen year to-fore, and his name was Helin le Blank. And
  • when Sir Bors saw that child it liked him passing well. And so those
  • knights had good cheer of the King Brandegore. And on the morn Sir Bors
  • came afore King Brandegore and said: Here is my son Helin le Blank,
  • that as it is said he is my son; and sith it is so, I will that ye wit
  • that I will have him with me unto the court of King Arthur. Sir, said
  • the king, ye may well take him with you, but he is over tender of age.
  • As for that, said Sir Bors, I will have him with me, and bring him to
  • the house of most worship of the world. So when Sir Bors should depart
  • there was made great sorrow for the departing of Helin le Blank, and
  • great weeping was there made. But Sir Bors and Sir Lionel departed, and
  • within a while they came to Camelot, where was King Arthur. And when
  • King Arthur understood that Helin le Blank was Sir Bors’ son, and
  • nephew unto King Brandegore, then King Arthur let him make knight of
  • the Round Table; and so he proved a good knight and an adventurous.
  • Now will we turn to our matter of Sir Launcelot. It befell upon a day
  • Sir Ector and Sir Percivale came to Sir Launcelot and asked him what he
  • would do, and whether he would go with them unto King Arthur or not.
  • Nay, said Sir Launcelot, that may not be by no mean, for I was so
  • entreated at the court that I cast me never to come there more. Sir,
  • said Sir Ector, I am your brother, and ye are the man in the world that
  • I love most; and if I understood that it were your disworship, ye may
  • understand I would never counsel you thereto; but King Arthur and all
  • his knights, and in especial Queen Guenever, made such dole and sorrow
  • that it was marvel to hear and see. And ye must remember the great
  • worship and renown that ye be of, how that ye have been more spoken of
  • than any other knight that is now living; for there is none that
  • beareth the name now but ye and Sir Tristram. Therefore brother, said
  • Sir Ector, make you ready to ride to the court with us, and I dare say
  • there was never knight better welcome to the court than ye; and I wot
  • well and can make it good, said Sir Ector, it hath cost my lady, the
  • queen, twenty thousand pound the seeking of you. Well brother, said Sir
  • Launcelot, I will do after your counsel, and ride with you.
  • So then they took their horses and made them ready, and took their
  • leave at King Pelles and at Dame Elaine. And when Sir Launcelot should
  • depart Dame Elaine made great sorrow. My lord, Sir Launcelot, said Dame
  • Elaine, at this same feast of Pentecost shall your son and mine,
  • Galahad, be made knight, for he is fully now fifteen winter old. Do as
  • ye list, said Sir Launcelot; God give him grace to prove a good knight.
  • As for that, said Dame Elaine, I doubt not he shall prove the best man
  • of his kin except one. Then shall he be a man good enough, said Sir
  • Launcelot.
  • CHAPTER X. How Sir Launcelot with Sir Percivale and Sir Ector came to
  • the court, and of the great joy of him.
  • Then they departed, and within five days’ journey they came to Camelot,
  • that is called in English, Winchester. And when Sir Launcelot was come
  • among them, the king and all the knights made great joy of him. And
  • there Sir Percivale de Galis and Sir Ector de Maris began and told the
  • whole adventures: that Sir Launcelot had been out of his mind the time
  • of his absence, and how he called himself Le Chevaler Mal Fet, the
  • knight that had trespassed; and in three days Sir Launcelot smote down
  • five hundred knights. And ever as Sir Ector and Sir Percivale told
  • these tales of Sir Launcelot, Queen Guenever wept as she should have
  • died. Then the queen made great cheer. O Jesu, said King Arthur, I
  • marvel for what cause ye, Sir Launcelot, went out of your mind. I and
  • many others deem it was for the love of fair Elaine, the daughter of
  • King Pelles, by whom ye are noised that ye have gotten a child, and his
  • name is Galahad, and men say he shall do marvels. My lord, said Sir
  • Launcelot, if I did any folly I have that I sought. And therewithal the
  • king spake no more. But all Sir Launcelot’s kin knew for whom he went
  • out of his mind. And then there were great feasts made and great joy;
  • and many great lords and ladies, when they heard that Sir Launcelot was
  • come to the court again, they made great joy.
  • CHAPTER XI. How La Beale Isoud counselled Sir Tristram to go unto the
  • court, to the great feast of Pentecost.
  • Now will we leave off this matter, and speak we of Sir Tristram, and of
  • Sir Palomides that was the Saracen unchristened. When Sir Tristram was
  • come home unto Joyous Gard from his adventures, all this while that Sir
  • Launcelot was thus missed, two year and more, Sir Tristram bare the
  • renown through all the realm of Logris, and many strange adventures
  • befell him, and full well and manly and worshipfully he brought them to
  • an end. So when he was come home La Beale Isoud told him of the great
  • feast that should be at Pentecost next following, and there she told
  • him how Sir Launcelot had been missed two year, and all that while he
  • had been out of his mind, and how he was holpen by the holy vessel, the
  • Sangreal. Alas, said Sir Tristram, that caused some debate betwixt him
  • and Queen Guenever. Sir, said Dame Isoud, I know it all, for Queen
  • Guenever sent me a letter in the which she wrote me all how it was, for
  • to require you to seek him. And now, blessed be God, said La Beale
  • Isoud, he is whole and sound and come again to the court.
  • Thereof am I glad, said Sir Tristram, and now shall ye and I make us
  • ready, for both ye and I will be at the feast. Sir, said Isoud, an it
  • please you I will not be there, for through me ye be marked of many
  • good knights, and that caused you to have much more labour for my sake
  • than needeth you. Then will I not be there, said Sir Tristram, but if
  • ye be there. God defend, said La Beale Isoud, for then shall I be
  • spoken of shame among all queens and ladies of estate; for ye that are
  • called one of the noblest knights of the world, and ye a knight of the
  • Round Table, how may ye be missed at that feast? What shall be said
  • among all knights? See how Sir Tristram hunteth, and hawketh, and
  • cowereth within a castle with his lady, and forsaketh your worship.
  • Alas, shall some say, it is pity that ever he was made knight, or that
  • ever he should have the love of a lady. Also what shall queens and
  • ladies say of me? It is pity that I have my life, that I will hold so
  • noble a knight as ye are from his worship. So God me help, said Sir
  • Tristram unto La Beale Isoud, it is passing well said of you and nobly
  • counselled; and now I well understand that ye love me; and like as ye
  • have counselled me I will do a part thereafter. But there shall no man
  • nor child ride with me, but myself. And so will I ride on Tuesday next
  • coming, and no more harness of war but my spear and my sword.
  • CHAPTER XII. How Sir Tristram departed unarmed and met with Sir
  • Palomides, and how they smote each other, and how Sir Palomides forbare
  • him.
  • And so when the day came Sir Tristram took his leave at La Beale Isoud,
  • and she sent with him four knights, and within half a mile he sent them
  • again: and within a mile after Sir Tristram saw afore him where Sir
  • Palomides had stricken down a knight, and almost wounded him to the
  • death. Then Sir Tristram repented him that he was not armed, and then
  • he hoved still. With that Sir Palomides knew Sir Tristram, and cried on
  • high: Sir Tristram, now be we met, for or we depart we will redress our
  • old sores. As for that, said Sir Tristram, there was yet never
  • Christian man might make his boast that ever I fled from him; and wit
  • ye well, Sir Palomides, thou that art a Saracen shall never make thy
  • boast that Sir Tristram de Liones shall flee from thee. And therewith
  • Sir Tristram made his horse to run, and with all his might he came
  • straight upon Sir Palomides, and brast his spear upon him an hundred
  • pieces. And forthwithal Sir Tristram drew his sword. And then he turned
  • his horse and struck at Palomides six great strokes upon his helm; and
  • then Sir Palomides stood still, and beheld Sir Tristram, and marvelled
  • of his woodness, and of his folly. And then Sir Palomides said to
  • himself: An Sir Tristram were armed, it were hard to cease him of this
  • battle, and if I turn again and slay him I am ashamed wheresomever that
  • I go.
  • Then Sir Tristram spake and said: Thou coward knight, what castest thou
  • to do; why wilt thou not do battle with me? for have thou no doubt I
  • shall endure all thy malice. Ah, Sir Tristram, said Palomides, full
  • well thou wottest I may not fight with thee for shame, for thou art
  • here naked and I am armed, and if I slay thee, dishonour shall be mine.
  • And well thou wottest, said Sir Palomides to Sir Tristram, I know thy
  • strength and thy hardiness to endure against a good knight. That is
  • truth, said Sir Tristram, I understand thy valiantness well. Ye say
  • well, said Sir Palomides; now, I require you, tell me a question that I
  • shall say to you. Tell me what it is, said Sir Tristram, and I shall
  • answer you the truth, as God me help. I put case, said Sir Palomides,
  • that ye were armed at all rights as well as I am, and I naked as ye be,
  • what would you do to me now, by your true knighthood? Ah, said Sir
  • Tristram, now I understand thee well, Sir Palomides, for now must I say
  • mine own judgment, and as God me bless, that I shall say shall not be
  • said for no fear that I have of thee. But this is all: wit Sir
  • Palomides, as at this time thou shouldest depart from me, for I would
  • not have ado with thee. No more will I, said Palomides, and therefore
  • ride forth on thy way. As for that I may choose, said Sir Tristram,
  • either to ride or to abide. But Sir Palomides, said Sir Tristram, I
  • marvel of one thing, that thou that art so good a knight, that thou
  • wilt not be christened, and thy brother, Sir Safere, hath been
  • christened many a day.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How that Sir Tristram gat him harness of a knight which
  • was hurt, and how he overthrew Sir Palomides.
  • As for that, said Sir Palomides, I may not yet be christened for one
  • avow that I have made many years agone; howbeit in my heart I believe
  • in Jesu Christ and his mild mother Mary; but I have but one battle to
  • do, and when that is done I will be baptised with a good will. By my
  • head, said Tristram, as for one battle thou shalt not seek it no
  • longer. For God defend, said Sir Tristram, that through my default thou
  • shouldst longer live thus a Saracen, for yonder is a knight that ye,
  • Sir Palomides, have hurt and smitten down. Now help me that I were
  • armed in his armour, and I shall soon fulfil thine avows. As ye will,
  • said Palomides, so it shall be.
  • So they rode both unto that knight that sat upon a bank, and then Sir
  • Tristram saluted him, and he weakly saluted him again. Sir knight, said
  • Sir Tristram, I require you tell me your right name. Sir, he said, my
  • name is Sir Galleron of Galway, and knight of the Table Round. So God
  • me help, said Sir Tristram, I am right heavy of your hurts; but this is
  • all, I must pray you to lend me all your whole armour, for ye see I am
  • unarmed, and I must do battle with this knight. Sir, said the hurt
  • knight, ye shall have it with a good will; but ye must beware, for I
  • warn you that knight is wight. Sir, said Galleron, I pray you tell me
  • your name, and what is that knight’s name that hath beaten me. Sir, as
  • for my name it is Sir Tristram de Liones, and as for the knight’s name
  • that hath hurt you is Sir Palomides, brother to the good knight Sir
  • Safere, and yet is Sir Palomides unchristened. Alas, said Sir Galleron,
  • that is pity that so good a knight and so noble a man of arms should be
  • unchristened. So God me help, said Sir Tristram, either he shall slay
  • me or I him but that he shall be christened or ever we depart
  • in-sunder. My lord Sir Tristram, said Sir Galleron, your renown and
  • worship is well known through many realms, and God save you this day
  • from shenship and shame.
  • Then Sir Tristram unarmed Galleron, the which was a noble knight, and
  • had done many deeds of arms, and he was a large knight of flesh and
  • bone. And when he was unarmed he stood upon his feet, for he was
  • bruised in the back with a spear; yet so as Sir Galleron might, he
  • armed Sir Tristram. And then Sir Tristram mounted upon his own horse,
  • and in his hand he gat Sir Galleron’s spear; and therewithal Sir
  • Palomides was ready. And so they came hurtling together, and either
  • smote other in midst of their shields; and therewithal Sir Palomides’
  • spear brake, and Sir Tristram smote down the horse; and Sir Palomides,
  • as soon as he might, avoided his horse, and dressed his shield, and
  • pulled out his sword. That saw Sir Tristram, and therewithal he
  • alighted and tied his horse till a tree.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How Sir Tristram and Sir Palomides fought long together,
  • and after accorded, and how Sir Tristram made him to be christened.
  • And then they came together as two wild boars, lashing together,
  • tracing and traversing as noble men that oft had been well proved in
  • battle; but ever Sir Palomides dread the might of Sir Tristram, and
  • therefore he suffered him to breathe him. Thus they fought more than
  • two hours, but often Sir Tristram smote such strokes at Sir Palomides
  • that he made him to kneel; and Sir Palomides brake and cut away many
  • pieces of Sir Tristram’s shield; and then Sir Palomides wounded Sir
  • Tristram, for he was a well fighting man. Then Sir Tristram was wood
  • wroth out of measure, and rushed upon Sir Palomides with such a might
  • that Sir Palomides fell grovelling to the earth; and therewithal he
  • leapt up lightly upon his feet, and then Sir Tristram wounded Palomides
  • sore through the shoulder. And ever Sir Tristram fought still in like
  • hard, and Sir Palomides failed not, but gave him many sad strokes. And
  • at the last Sir Tristram doubled his strokes, and by fortune Sir
  • Tristram smote Sir Palomides sword out of his hand, and if Sir
  • Palomides had stooped for his sword he had been slain.
  • Then Palomides stood still and beheld his sword with a sorrowful heart.
  • How now, said Sir Tristram unto Palomides, now have I thee at advantage
  • as thou haddest me this day; but it shall never be said in no court,
  • nor among good knights, that Sir Tristram shall slay any knight that is
  • weaponless; and therefore take thou thy sword, and let us make an end
  • of this battle. As for to do this battle, said Palomides, I dare right
  • well end it, but I have no great lust to fight no more. And for this
  • cause, said Palomides: mine offence to you is not so great but that we
  • may be friends. All that I have offended is and was for the love of La
  • Beale Isoud. And as for her, I dare say she is peerless above all other
  • ladies, and also I proffered her never no dishonour; and by her I have
  • gotten the most part of my worship. And sithen I offended never as to
  • her own person, and as for the offence that I have done, it was against
  • your own person, and for that offence ye have given me this day many
  • sad strokes, and some I have given you again; and now I dare say I felt
  • never man of your might, nor so well breathed, but if it were Sir
  • Launcelot du Lake; wherefore I require you, my lord, forgive me all
  • that I have offended unto you; and this same day have me to the next
  • church, and first let me be clean confessed, and after see you now that
  • I be truly baptised. And then will we all ride together unto the court
  • of Arthur, that we be there at the high feast. Now take your horse,
  • said Sir Tristram, and as ye say so it shall be, and all thine evil
  • will God forgive it you, and I do. And here within this mile is the
  • Suffragan of Carlisle that shall give you the sacrament of baptism.
  • Then they took their horses and Sir Galleron rode with them. And when
  • they came to the Suffragan Sir Tristram told him their desire. Then the
  • Suffragan let fill a great vessel with water, and when he had hallowed
  • it he then confessed clean Sir Palomides, and Sir Tristram and Sir
  • Galleron were his godfathers. And then soon after they departed, riding
  • toward Camelot, where King Arthur and Queen Guenever was, and for the
  • most part all the knights of the Round Table. And so the king and all
  • the court were glad that Sir Palomides was christened. And at the same
  • feast in came Galahad and sat in the Siege Perilous. And so therewithal
  • departed and dissevered all the knights of the Round Table. And Sir
  • Tristram returned again unto Joyous Gard, and Sir Palomides followed
  • the Questing Beast.
  • _Here endeth the second book of Sir Tristram that was drawn out of
  • French into English. But here is no rehersal of the third book. And
  • here followeth the noble tale of the Sangreal, that called is the Holy
  • Vessel; and the signification of the blessed blood of our Lord Jesus
  • Christ, blessed mote it be, the which was brought into this land by
  • Joseph Aramathie. Therefore on all sinful souls blessed Lord have thou
  • mercy._
  • _Explicit liber xii. Et incipit Decimustercius._
  • BOOK XIII.
  • CHAPTER I. How at the vigil of the Feast of Pentecost entered into the
  • hall before King Arthur a damosel, and desired Sir Launcelot for to
  • come and dub a knight, and how he went with her.
  • At the vigil of Pentecost, when all the fellowship of the Round Table
  • were come unto Camelot and there heard their service, and the tables
  • were set ready to the meat, right so entered into the hall a full fair
  • gentlewoman on horseback, that had ridden full fast, for her horse was
  • all besweated. Then she there alighted, and came before the king and
  • saluted him; and he said: Damosel, God thee bless. Sir, said she, for
  • God’s sake say me where Sir Launcelot is. Yonder ye may see him, said
  • the king. Then she went unto Launcelot and said: Sir Launcelot, I
  • salute you on King Pelles’ behalf, and I require you come on with me
  • hereby into a forest. Then Sir Launcelot asked her with whom she
  • dwelled. I dwell, said she, with King Pelles. What will ye with me?
  • said Launcelot. Ye shall know, said she, when ye come thither. Well,
  • said he, I will gladly go with you. So Sir Launcelot bade his squire
  • saddle his horse and bring his arms; and in all haste he did his
  • commandment.
  • Then came the queen unto Launcelot, and said: Will ye leave us at this
  • high feast? Madam, said the gentlewoman, wit ye well he shall be with
  • you to-morn by dinner time. If I wist, said the queen, that he should
  • not be with us here to-morn he should not go with you by my good will.
  • Right so departed Sir Launcelot with the gentlewoman, and rode until
  • that he came into a forest and into a great valley, where they saw an
  • abbey of nuns; and there was a squire ready and opened the gates, and
  • so they entered and descended off their horses; and there came a fair
  • fellowship about Sir Launcelot, and welcomed him, and were passing glad
  • of his coming. And then they led him unto the Abbess’s chamber and
  • unarmed him; and right so he was ware upon a bed lying two of his
  • cousins, Sir Bors and Sir Lionel, and then he waked them; and when they
  • saw him they made great joy. Sir, said Sir Bors unto Sir Launcelot,
  • what adventure hath brought you hither, for we weened to-morn to have
  • found you at Camelot? As God me help, said Sir Launcelot, a gentlewoman
  • brought me hither, but I know not the cause.
  • In the meanwhile that they thus stood talking together, therein came
  • twelve nuns that brought with them Galahad, the which was passing fair
  • and well made, that unnethe in the world men might not find his match:
  • and all those ladies wept. Sir, said they all, we bring you here this
  • child the which we have nourished, and we pray you to make him a
  • knight, for of a more worthier man’s hand may he not receive the order
  • of knighthood. Sir Launcelot beheld the young squire and saw him seemly
  • and demure as a dove, with all manner of good features, that he weened
  • of his age never to have seen so fair a man of form. Then said Sir
  • Launcelot: Cometh this desire of himself? He and all they said yea.
  • Then shall he, said Sir Launcelot, receive the high order of knighthood
  • as to-morn at the reverence of the high feast. That night Sir Launcelot
  • had passing good cheer; and on the morn at the hour of prime, at
  • Galahad’s desire, he made him knight and said: God make him a good man,
  • for of beauty faileth you not as any that liveth.
  • CHAPTER II. How the letters were found written in the Siege Perilous
  • and of the marvellous adventure of the sword in a stone.
  • Now fair sir, said Sir Launcelot, will ye come with me unto the court
  • of King Arthur? Nay, said he, I will not go with you as at this time.
  • Then he departed from them and took his two cousins with him, and so
  • they came unto Camelot by the hour of underne on Whitsunday. By that
  • time the king and the queen were gone to the minster to hear their
  • service. Then the king and the queen were passing glad of Sir Bors and
  • Sir Lionel, and so was all the fellowship. So when the king and all the
  • knights were come from service, the barons espied in the sieges of the
  • Round Table all about, written with golden letters: Here ought to sit
  • he, and he ought to sit here. And thus they went so long till that they
  • came to the Siege Perilous, where they found letters newly written of
  • gold which said: Four hundred winters and four and fifty accomplished
  • after the passion of our Lord Jesu Christ ought this siege to be
  • fulfilled. Then all they said: This is a marvellous thing and an
  • adventurous. In the name of God, said Sir Launcelot; and then accompted
  • the term of the writing from the birth of our Lord unto that day. It
  • seemeth me said Sir Launcelot, this siege ought to be fulfilled this
  • same day, for this is the feast of Pentecost after the four hundred and
  • four and fifty year; and if it would please all parties, I would none
  • of these letters were seen this day, till he be come that ought to
  • enchieve this adventure. Then made they to ordain a cloth of silk, for
  • to cover these letters in the Siege Perilous.
  • Then the king bade haste unto dinner. Sir, said Sir Kay the Steward, if
  • ye go now unto your meat ye shall break your old custom of your court,
  • for ye have not used on this day to sit at your meat or that ye have
  • seen some adventure. Ye say sooth, said the king, but I had so great
  • joy of Sir Launcelot and of his cousins, which be come to the court
  • whole and sound, so that I bethought me not of mine old custom. So, as
  • they stood speaking, in came a squire and said unto the king: Sir, I
  • bring unto you marvellous tidings. What be they? said the king. Sir,
  • there is here beneath at the river a great stone which I saw fleet
  • above the water, and therein I saw sticking a sword. The king said: I
  • will see that marvel. So all the knights went with him, and when they
  • came to the river they found there a stone fleeting, as it were of red
  • marble, and therein stuck a fair rich sword, and in the pommel thereof
  • were precious stones wrought with subtle letters of gold. Then the
  • barons read the letters which said in this wise: Never shall man take
  • me hence, but only he by whose side I ought to hang, and he shall be
  • the best knight of the world.
  • When the king had seen the letters, he said unto Sir Launcelot: Fair
  • Sir, this sword ought to be yours, for I am sure ye be the best knight
  • of the world. Then Sir Launcelot answered full soberly: Certes, sir, it
  • is not my sword; also, Sir, wit ye well I have no hardiness to set my
  • hand to it, for it longed not to hang by my side. Also, who that
  • assayeth to take the sword and faileth of it, he shall receive a wound
  • by that sword that he shall not be whole long after. And I will that ye
  • wit that this same day shall the adventures of the Sangreal, that is
  • called the Holy Vessel, begin
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Gawaine assayed to draw out the sword, and how an
  • old man brought in Galahad.
  • Now, fair nephew, said the king unto Sir Gawaine, assay ye, for my
  • love. Sir, he said, save your good grace I shall not do that. Sir, said
  • the king, assay to take the sword and at my commandment. Sir, said
  • Gawaine, your commandment I will obey. And therewith he took up the
  • sword by the handles, but he might not stir it. I thank you, said the
  • king to Sir Gawaine. My lord Sir Gawaine, said Sir Launcelot, now wit
  • ye well this sword shall touch you so sore that ye shall will ye had
  • never set your hand thereto for the best castle of this realm. Sir, he
  • said, I might not withsay mine uncle’s will and commandment. But when
  • the king heard this he repented it much, and said unto Sir Percivale
  • that he should assay, for his love. And he said: Gladly, for to bear
  • Sir Gawaine fellowship. And therewith he set his hand on the sword and
  • drew it strongly, but he might not move it. Then were there no more
  • that durst be so hardy to set their hands thereto. Now may ye go to
  • your dinner, said Sir Kay unto the king, for a marvellous adventure
  • have ye seen. So the king and all went unto the court, and every knight
  • knew his own place, and set him therein, and young men that were
  • knights served them.
  • So when they were served, and all sieges fulfilled save only the Siege
  • Perilous, anon there befell a marvellous adventure, that all the doors
  • and windows of the palace shut by themself. Not for then the hall was
  • not greatly darked; and therewith they were all abashed both one and
  • other. Then King Arthur spake first and said: By God, fair fellows and
  • lords, we have seen this day marvels, but or night I suppose we shall
  • see greater marvels.
  • In the meanwhile came in a good old man, and an ancient, clothed all in
  • white, and there was no knight knew from whence he came. And with him
  • he brought a young knight, both on foot, in red arms, without sword or
  • shield, save a scabbard hanging by his side. And these words he said:
  • Peace be with you, fair lords. Then the old man said unto Arthur: Sir,
  • I bring here a young knight, the which is of king’s lineage, and of the
  • kindred of Joseph of Aramathie, whereby the marvels of this court, and
  • of strange realms, shall be fully accomplished.
  • CHAPTER IV. How the old man brought Galahad to the Siege Perilous and
  • set him therein, and how all the knights marvelled.
  • The king was right glad of his words, and said unto the good man: Sir,
  • ye be right welcome, and the young knight with you. Then the old man
  • made the young man to unarm him, and he was in a coat of red sendal,
  • and bare a mantle upon his shoulder that was furred with ermine, and
  • put that upon him. And the old knight said unto the young knight: Sir,
  • follow me. And anon he led him unto the Siege Perilous, where beside
  • sat Sir Launcelot; and the good man lift up the cloth, and found there
  • letters that said thus: This is the siege of Galahad, the haut prince.
  • Sir, said the old knight, wit ye well that place is yours. And then he
  • set him down surely in that siege. And then he said to the old man:
  • Sir, ye may now go your way, for well have ye done that ye were
  • commanded to do; and recommend me unto my grandsire, King Pelles, and
  • unto my lord Petchere, and say them on my behalf, I shall come and see
  • them as soon as ever I may. So the good man departed; and there met him
  • twenty noble squires, and so took their horses and went their way.
  • Then all the knights of the Table Round marvelled greatly of Sir
  • Galahad, that he durst sit there in that Siege Perilous, and was so
  • tender of age; and wist not from whence he came but all only by God;
  • and said: This is he by whom the Sangreal shall be enchieved, for there
  • sat never none but he, but he were mischieved. Then Sir Launcelot
  • beheld his son and had great joy of him. Then Bors told his fellows:
  • Upon pain of my life this young knight shall come unto great worship.
  • This noise was great in all the court, so that it came to the queen.
  • Then she had marvel what knight it might be that durst adventure him to
  • sit in the Siege Perilous. Many said unto the queen he resembled much
  • unto Sir Launcelot. I may well suppose, said the queen, that Sir
  • Launcelot begat him on King Pelles’ daughter, by the which he was made
  • to lie by, by enchantment, and his name is Galahad. I would fain see
  • him, said the queen, for he must needs be a noble man, for so is his
  • father that him begat, I report me unto all the Table Round.
  • So when the meat was done that the king and all were risen, the king
  • yede unto the Siege Perilous and lift up the cloth, and found there the
  • name of Galahad; and then he shewed it unto Sir Gawaine, and said: Fair
  • nephew, now have we among us Sir Galahad, the good knight that shall
  • worship us all; and upon pain of my life he shall enchieve the
  • Sangreal, right as Sir Launcelot had done us to understand. Then came
  • King Arthur unto Galahad and said: Sir, ye be welcome, for ye shall
  • move many good knights to the quest of the Sangreal, and ye shall
  • enchieve that never knights might bring to an end. Then the king took
  • him by the hand, and went down from the palace to shew Galahad the
  • adventures of the stone.
  • CHAPTER V. How King Arthur shewed the stone hoving on the water to
  • Galahad, and how he drew out the sword.
  • The queen heard thereof, and came after with many ladies, and shewed
  • them the stone where it hoved on the water. Sir, said the king unto Sir
  • Galahad, here is a great marvel as ever I saw, and right good knights
  • have assayed and failed. Sir, said Galahad, that is no marvel, for this
  • adventure is not theirs but mine; and for the surety of this sword I
  • brought none with me, for here by my side hangeth the scabbard. And
  • anon he laid his hand on the sword, and lightly drew it out of the
  • stone, and put it in the sheath, and said unto the king: Now it goeth
  • better than it did aforehand. Sir, said the king, a shield God shall
  • send you. Now have I that sword that sometime was the good knight’s,
  • Balin le Savage, and he was a passing good man of his hands; and with
  • this sword he slew his brother Balan, and that was great pity, for he
  • was a good knight, and either slew other through a dolorous stroke that
  • Balin gave unto my grandfather King Pelles, the which is not yet whole,
  • nor not shall be till I heal him.
  • Therewith the king and all espied where came riding down the river a
  • lady on a white palfrey toward them. Then she saluted the king and the
  • queen, and asked if that Sir Launcelot was there. And then he answered
  • himself: I am here, fair lady. Then she said all with weeping: How your
  • great doing is changed sith this day in the morn. Damosel, why say you
  • so? said Launcelot. I say you sooth, said the damosel, for ye were this
  • day the best knight of the world, but who should say so now, he should
  • be a liar, for there is now one better than ye, and well it is proved
  • by the adventures of the sword whereto ye durst not set to your hand;
  • and that is the change and leaving of your name. Wherefore I make unto
  • you a remembrance, that ye shall not ween from henceforth that ye be
  • the best knight of the world. As touching unto that, said Launcelot, I
  • know well I was never the best. Yes, said the damosel, that were ye,
  • and are yet, of any sinful man of the world. And, Sir king, Nacien, the
  • hermit, sendeth thee word, that thee shall befall the greatest worship
  • that ever befell king in Britain; and I say you wherefore, for this day
  • the Sangreal appeared in thy house and fed thee and all thy fellowship
  • of the Round Table. So she departed and went that same way that she
  • came.
  • CHAPTER VI. How King Arthur had all the knights together for to joust
  • in the meadow beside Camelot or they departed.
  • Now, said the king, I am sure at this quest of the Sangreal shall all
  • ye of the Table Round depart, and never shall I see you again whole
  • together; therefore I will see you all whole together in the meadow of
  • Camelot to joust and to tourney, that after your death men may speak of
  • it that such good knights were wholly together such a day. As unto that
  • counsel and at the king’s request they accorded all, and took on their
  • harness that longed unto jousting. But all this moving of the king was
  • for this intent, for to see Galahad proved; for the king deemed he
  • should not lightly come again unto the court after his departing. So
  • were they assembled in the meadow, both more and less. Then Sir
  • Galahad, by the prayer of the king and the queen, did upon him a noble
  • jesseraunce, and also he did on his helm, but shield would he take none
  • for no prayer of the king. And then Sir Gawaine and other knights
  • prayed him to take a spear. Right so he did; and the queen was in a
  • tower with all her ladies, for to behold that tournament. Then Sir
  • Galahad dressed him in midst of the meadow, and began to break spears
  • marvellously, that all men had wonder of him; for he there surmounted
  • all other knights, for within a while he had defouled many good knights
  • of the Table Round save twain, that was Sir Launcelot and Sir
  • Percivale.
  • CHAPTER VII. How the queen desired to see Galahad; and how after, all
  • the knights were replenished with the Holy Sangreal, and how they
  • avowed the enquest of the same.
  • Then the king, at the queen’s request, made him to alight and to unlace
  • his helm, that the queen might see him in the visage. When she beheld
  • him she said: Soothly I dare well say that Sir Launcelot begat him, for
  • never two men resembled more in likeness, therefore it nis no marvel
  • though he be of great prowess. So a lady that stood by the queen said:
  • Madam, for God’s sake ought he of right to be so good a knight? Yea,
  • forsooth, said the queen, for he is of all parties come of the best
  • knights of the world and of the highest lineage; for Sir Launcelot is
  • come but of the eighth degree from our Lord Jesu Christ, and Sir
  • Galahad is of the ninth degree from our Lord Jesu Christ, therefore I
  • dare say they be the greatest gentlemen of the world.
  • And then the king and all estates went home unto Camelot, and so went
  • to evensong to the great minster, and so after upon that to supper, and
  • every knight sat in his own place as they were toforehand. Then anon
  • they heard cracking and crying of thunder, that them thought the place
  • should all to-drive. In the midst of this blast entered a sunbeam more
  • clearer by seven times than ever they saw day, and all they were
  • alighted of the grace of the Holy Ghost. Then began every knight to
  • behold other, and either saw other, by their seeming, fairer than ever
  • they saw afore. Not for then there was no knight might speak one word a
  • great while, and so they looked every man on other as they had been
  • dumb. Then there entered into the hall the Holy Grail covered with
  • white samite, but there was none might see it, nor who bare it. And
  • there was all the hall fulfilled with good odours, and every knight had
  • such meats and drinks as he best loved in this world. And when the Holy
  • Grail had been borne through the hall, then the holy vessel departed
  • suddenly, that they wist not where it became: then had they all breath
  • to speak. And then the king yielded thankings to God, of His good grace
  • that he had sent them. Certes, said the king, we ought to thank our
  • Lord Jesu greatly for that he hath shewed us this day, at the reverence
  • of this high feast of Pentecost.
  • Now, said Sir Gawaine, we have been served this day of what meats and
  • drinks we thought on; but one thing beguiled us, we might not see the
  • Holy Grail, it was so preciously covered. Wherefore I will make here
  • avow, that to-morn, without longer abiding, I shall labour in the quest
  • of the Sangreal, that I shall hold me out a twelvemonth and a day, or
  • more if need be, and never shall I return again unto the court till I
  • have seen it more openly than it hath been seen here; and if I may not
  • speed I shall return again as he that may not be against the will of
  • our Lord Jesu Christ.
  • When they of the Table Round heard Sir Gawaine say so, they arose up
  • the most part and made such avows as Sir Gawaine had made. Anon as King
  • Arthur heard this he was greatly displeased, for he wist well they
  • might not again-say their avows. Alas, said King Arthur unto Sir
  • Gawaine, ye have nigh slain me with the avow and promise that ye have
  • made; for through you ye have bereft me the fairest fellowship and the
  • truest of knighthood that ever were seen together in any realm of the
  • world; for when they depart from hence I am sure they all shall never
  • meet more in this world, for they shall die many in the quest. And so
  • it forthinketh me a little, for I have loved them as well as my life,
  • wherefore it shall grieve me right sore, the departition of this
  • fellowship: for I have had an old custom to have them in my fellowship.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How great sorrow was made of the king and the queen and
  • ladies for the departing of the knights, and how they departed.
  • And therewith the tears fell in his eyes. And then he said: Gawaine,
  • Gawaine, ye have set me in great sorrow, for I have great doubt that my
  • true fellowship shall never meet here more again. Ah, said Sir
  • Launcelot, comfort yourself; for it shall be unto us a great honour and
  • much more than if we died in any other places, for of death we be
  • siker. Ah, Launcelot, said the king, the great love that I have had
  • unto you all the days of my life maketh me to say such doleful words;
  • for never Christian king had never so many worthy men at his table as I
  • have had this day at the Round Table, and that is my great sorrow.
  • When the queen, ladies, and gentlewomen, wist these tidings, they had
  • such sorrow and heaviness that there might no tongue tell it, for those
  • knights had held them in honour and chierté. But among all other Queen
  • Guenever made great sorrow. I marvel, said she, my lord would suffer
  • them to depart from him. Thus was all the court troubled for the love
  • of the departition of those knights. And many of those ladies that
  • loved knights would have gone with their lovers; and so had they done,
  • had not an old knight come among them in religious clothing; and then
  • he spake all on high and said: Fair lords, which have sworn in the
  • quest of the Sangreal, thus sendeth you Nacien, the hermit, word, that
  • none in this quest lead lady nor gentlewoman with him, for it is not to
  • do in so high a service as they labour in; for I warn you plain, he
  • that is not clean of his sins he shall not see the mysteries of our
  • Lord Jesu Christ. And for this cause they left these ladies and
  • gentlewomen.
  • After this the queen came unto Galahad and asked him of whence he was,
  • and of what country. He told her of whence he was. And son unto
  • Launcelot, she said he was. As to that, he said neither yea nor nay. So
  • God me help, said the queen, of your father ye need not to shame you,
  • for he is the goodliest knight, and of the best men of the world come,
  • and of the strain, of all parties, of kings. Wherefore ye ought of
  • right to be, of your deeds, a passing good man; and certainly, she
  • said, ye resemble him much. Then Sir Galahad was a little ashamed and
  • said: Madam, sith ye know in certain, wherefore do ye ask it me? for he
  • that is my father shall be known openly and all betimes. And then they
  • went to rest them. And in the honour of the highness of Galahad he was
  • led into King Arthur’s chamber, and there rested in his own bed.
  • And as soon as it was day the king arose, for he had no rest of all
  • that night for sorrow. Then he went unto Gawaine and to Sir Launcelot
  • that were arisen for to hear mass. And then the king again said: Ah
  • Gawaine, Gawaine, ye have betrayed me; for never shall my court be
  • amended by you, but ye will never be sorry for me as I am for you. And
  • therewith the tears began to run down by his visage. And therewith the
  • king said: Ah, knight Sir Launcelot, I require thee thou counsel me,
  • for I would that this quest were undone, an it might be Sir, said Sir
  • Launcelot, ye saw yesterday so many worthy knights that then were sworn
  • that they may not leave it in no manner of wise. That wot I well, said
  • the king, but it shall so heavy me at their departing that I wot well
  • there shall no manner of joy remedy me. And then the king and the queen
  • went unto the minster. So anon Launcelot and Gawaine commanded their
  • men to bring their arms. And when they all were armed save their
  • shields and their helms, then they came to their fellowship, which were
  • all ready in the same wise, for to go to the minster to hear their
  • service.
  • Then after the service was done the king would wit how many had
  • undertaken the quest of the Holy Grail; and to accompt them he prayed
  • them all. Then found they by the tale an hundred and fifty, and all
  • were knights of the Round Table. And then they put on their helms and
  • departed, and recommended them all wholly unto the queen; and there was
  • weeping and great sorrow. Then the queen departed into her chamber and
  • held her, so that no man should perceive her great sorrows. When Sir
  • Launcelot missed the queen he went till her chamber, and when she saw
  • him she cried aloud: O Launcelot, Launcelot, ye have betrayed me and
  • put me to the death, for to leave thus my lord. Ah, madam, I pray you
  • be not displeased, for I shall come again as soon as I may with my
  • worship. Alas, said she, that ever I saw you; but he that suffered upon
  • the cross for all mankind, he be unto you good conduct and safety, and
  • all the whole fellowship.
  • Right so departed Sir Launcelot, and found his fellowship that abode
  • his coming. And so they mounted upon their horses and rode through the
  • streets of Camelot; and there was weeping of rich and poor, and the
  • king turned away and might not speak for weeping. So within a while
  • they came to a city, and a castle that hight Vagon. There they entered
  • into the castle, and the lord of that castle was an old man that hight
  • Vagon, and he was a good man of his living, and set open the gates, and
  • made them all the cheer that he might. And so on the morn they were all
  • accorded that they should depart everych from other; and on the morn
  • they departed with weeping cheer, and every knight took the way that
  • him liked best.
  • CHAPTER IX. How Galahad gat him a shield, and how they sped that
  • presumed to take down the said shield.
  • Now rideth Sir Galahad yet without shield, and so he rode four days
  • without any adventure. And at the fourth day after evensong he came to
  • a White Abbey, and there he was received with great reverence, and led
  • unto a chamber, and there was he unarmed; and then was he ware of two
  • knights of the Table Round, one was Sir Bagdemagus, and Sir Uwaine.
  • And when they saw him they went unto Galahad and made of him great
  • solace, and so they went unto supper. Sirs, said Sir Galahad, what
  • adventure brought you hither? Sir, said they, it is told us that within
  • this place is a shield that no man may bear about his neck but he be
  • mischieved outher dead within three days, or maimed for ever. Ah sir,
  • said King Bagdemagus, I shall it bear to-morrow for to assay this
  • adventure. In the name of God, said Sir Galahad. Sir, said Bagdemagus,
  • an I may not enchieve the adventure of this shield ye shall take it
  • upon you, for I am sure ye shall not fail. Sir, said Galahad, I right
  • well agree me thereto, for I have no shield. So on the morn they arose
  • and heard mass. Then Bagdemagus asked where the adventurous shield was.
  • Anon a monk led him behind an altar where the shield hung as white as
  • any snow, but in the midst was a red cross. Sir, said the monk, this
  • shield ought not to be hanged about no knight’s neck but he be the
  • worthiest knight of the world;
  • therefore I counsel you knights to be well advised. Well, said
  • Bagdemagus, I wot well that I am not the best knight of the world, but
  • yet I shall assay to bear it, and so bare it out of the minster. And
  • then he said unto Galahad: An it please you abide here still, till ye
  • wit how that I speed. I shall abide you, said Galahad. Then King
  • Bagdemagus took with him a good squire, to bring tidings unto Sir
  • Galahad how he sped.
  • Then when they had ridden a two mile and came to a fair valley afore an
  • hermitage, then they saw a knight come from that part in white armour,
  • horse and all; and he came as fast as his horse might run, and his
  • spear in his rest, and Bagdemagus dressed his spear against him and
  • brake it upon the white knight. But the other struck him so hard that
  • he brast the mails, and sheef him through the right shoulder, for the
  • shield covered him not as at that time; and so he bare him from his
  • horse. And therewith he alighted and took the white shield from him,
  • saying: Knight, thou hast done thyself great folly, for this shield
  • ought not to be borne but by him that shall have no peer that liveth.
  • And then he came to Bagdemagus’ squire and said: Bear this shield unto
  • the good knight Sir Galahad, that thou left in the abbey, and greet him
  • well by me. Sir, said the squire, what is your name? Take thou no heed
  • of my name, said the knight, for it is not for thee to know nor for
  • none earthly man. Now, fair sir, said the squire, at the reverence of
  • Jesu Christ, tell me for what cause this shield may not be borne but if
  • the bearer thereof be mischieved. Now sith thou hast conjured me so,
  • said the knight, this shield behoveth unto no man but unto Galahad. And
  • the squire went unto Bagdemagus and asked whether he were sore wounded
  • or not. Yea forsooth, said he, I shall escape hard from the death. Then
  • he fetched his horse, and brought him with great pain unto an abbey.
  • Then was he taken down softly and unarmed, and laid in a bed, and there
  • was looked to his wounds. And as the book telleth, he lay there long,
  • and escaped hard with the life.
  • CHAPTER X. How Galahad departed with the shield, and how King Evelake
  • had received the shield of Joseph of Aramathie.
  • Sir Galahad, said the squire, that knight that wounded Bagdemagus
  • sendeth you greeting, and bade that ye should bear this shield,
  • wherethrough great adventures should befall. Now blessed be God and
  • fortune, said Galahad. And then he asked his arms, and mounted upon his
  • horse, and hung the white shield about his neck, and commended them
  • unto God. And Sir Uwaine said he would bear him fellowship if it
  • pleased him. Sir, said Galahad, that may ye not, for I must go alone,
  • save this squire shall bear me fellowship: and so departed Uwaine.
  • Then within a while came Galahad thereas the White Knight abode him by
  • the hermitage, and everych saluted other courteously. Sir, said
  • Galahad, by this shield be many marvels fallen. Sir, said the knight,
  • it befell after the passion of our Lord Jesu Christ thirty-two year,
  • that Joseph of Aramathie, the gentle knight, the which took down our
  • Lord off the holy Cross, at that time he departed from Jerusalem with a
  • great party of his kindred with him. And so he laboured till that they
  • came to a city that hight Sarras. And at that same hour that Joseph
  • came to Sarras there was a king that hight Evelake, that had great war
  • against the Saracens, and in especial against one Saracen, the which
  • was King Evelake’s cousin, a rich king and a mighty, which marched nigh
  • this land, and his name was called Tolleme la Feintes. So on a day
  • these two met to do battle. Then Joseph, the son of Joseph of
  • Aramathie, went to King Evelake and told him he should be discomfit and
  • slain, but if he left his belief of the old law and believed upon the
  • new law. And then there he shewed him the right belief of the Holy
  • Trinity, to the which he agreed unto with all his heart; and there this
  • shield was made for King Evelake, in the name of Him that died upon the
  • Cross. And then through his good belief he had the better of King
  • Tolleme. For when Evelake was in the battle there was a cloth set afore
  • the shield, and when he was in the greatest peril he let put away the
  • cloth, and then his enemies saw a figure of a man on the Cross,
  • wherethrough they all were discomfit. And so it befell that a man of
  • King Evelake’s was smitten his hand off, and bare that hand in his
  • other hand; and Joseph called that man unto him and bade him go with
  • good devotion touch the Cross. And as soon as that man had touched the
  • Cross with his hand it was as whole as ever it was to-fore. Then soon
  • after there fell a great marvel, that the cross of the shield at one
  • time vanished away that no man wist where it became. And then King
  • Evelake was baptised, and for the most part all the people of that
  • city. So, soon after Joseph would depart, and King Evelake would go
  • with him, whether he wold or nold. And so by fortune they came into
  • this land, that at that time was called Great Britain; and there they
  • found a great felon paynim, that put Joseph into prison. And so by
  • fortune tidings came unto a worthy man that hight Mondrames, and he
  • assembled all his people for the great renown he had heard of Joseph;
  • and so he came into the land of Great Britain and disherited this felon
  • paynim and consumed him, and therewith delivered Joseph out of prison.
  • And after that all the people were turned to the Christian faith.
  • CHAPTER XI. How Joseph made a cross on the white shield with his blood,
  • and how Galahad was by a monk brought to a tomb.
  • Not long after that Joseph was laid in his deadly bed. And when King
  • Evelake saw that he made much sorrow, and said: For thy love I have
  • left my country, and sith ye shall depart out of this world, leave me
  • some token of yours that I may think on you. Joseph said: That will I
  • do full gladly; now bring me your shield that I took you when ye went
  • into battle against King Tolleme. Then Joseph bled sore at the nose, so
  • that he might not by no mean be staunched. And there upon that shield
  • he made a cross of his own blood. Now may ye see a remembrance that I
  • love you, for ye shall never see this shield but ye shall think on me,
  • and it shall be always as fresh as it is now. And never shall man bear
  • this shield about his neck but he shall repent it, unto the time that
  • Galahad, the good knight, bear it; and the last of my lineage shall
  • have it about his neck, that shall do many marvellous deeds. Now, said
  • King Evelake, where shall I put this shield, that this worthy knight
  • may have it? Ye shall leave it thereas Nacien, the hermit, shall be put
  • after his death; for thither shall that good knight come the fifteenth
  • day after that he shall receive the order of knighthood: and so that
  • day that they set is this time that he have his shield, and in the same
  • abbey lieth Nacien, the hermit. And then the White Knight vanished
  • away.
  • Anon as the squire had heard these words, he alighted off his hackney
  • and kneeled down at Galahad’s feet, and prayed him that he might go
  • with him till he had made him knight.
  • If I would not refuse you.
  • Then will ye make me a knight? said the squire, and that order, by the
  • grace of God, shall be well set in me.
  • So Sir Galahad granted him, and turned again unto the abbey where they
  • came from; and there men made great joy of Sir Galahad. And anon as he
  • was alighted there was a monk brought him unto a tomb in a churchyard,
  • where there was such a noise that who that heard it should verily nigh
  • be mad or lose his strength: and sir, they said, we deem it is a fiend.
  • CHAPTER XII. Of the marvel that Sir Galahad saw and heard in the tomb,
  • and how he made Melias knight.
  • Now lead me thither, said Galahad. And so they did, all armed save his
  • helm. Now, said the good man, go to the tomb and lift it up. So he did,
  • and heard a great noise; and piteously he said, that all men might hear
  • it: Sir Galahad, the servant of Jesu Christ, come thou not nigh me, for
  • thou shalt make me go again there where I have been so long. But
  • Galahad was nothing afraid, but lifted up the stone; and there came out
  • so foul a smoke, and after he saw the foulest figure leap thereout that
  • ever he saw in the likeness of a man; and then he blessed him and wist
  • well it was a fiend. Then heard he a voice say Galahad, I see there
  • environ about thee so many angels that my power may not dere thee{sic}
  • Right so Sir Galahad saw a body all armed lie in that tomb, and beside
  • him a sword. Now, fair brother, said Galahad, let us remove this body,
  • for it is not worthy to lie in this churchyard, for he was a false
  • Christian man. And therewith they all departed and went to the abbey.
  • And anon as he was unarmed a good man came and set him down by him and
  • said: Sir, I shall tell you what betokeneth all that ye saw in the
  • tomb; for that covered body betokeneth the duresse of the world, and
  • the great sin that Our Lord found in the world. For there was such
  • wretchedness that the father loved not the son, nor the son loved not
  • the father; and that was one of the causes that Our Lord took flesh and
  • blood of a clean maiden, for our sins were so great at that time that
  • well-nigh all was wickedness. Truly, said Galahad, I believe you right
  • well.
  • So Sir Galahad rested him there that night; and upon the morn he made
  • the squire knight, and asked him his name, and of what kindred he was
  • come. Sir, said he, men calleth me Melias de Lile, and I am the son of
  • the King of Denmark. Now, fair sir, said Galahad, sith that ye be come
  • of kings and queens, now look that knighthood be well set in you, for
  • ye ought to be a mirror unto all chivalry. Sir, said Sir Melias, ye say
  • sooth. But, sir, sithen ye have made me a knight ye must of right grant
  • me my first desire that is reasonable. Ye say sooth, said Galahad.
  • Melias said: Then that ye will suffer me to ride with you in this quest
  • of the Sangreal, till that some adventure depart us. I grant you, sir.
  • Then men brought Sir Melias his armour and his spear and his horse, and
  • so Sir Galahad and he rode forth all that week or they found any
  • adventure. And then upon a Monday in the morning, as they were departed
  • from an abbey, they came to a cross which departed two ways, and in
  • that cross were letters written that said thus: Now, ye knights errant,
  • the which goeth to seek knights adventurous, see here two ways; that
  • one way defendeth thee that thou ne go that way, for he shall not go
  • out of the way again but if he be a good man and a worthy knight; and
  • if thou go on the left hand, thou shalt not lightly there win prowess,
  • for thou shalt in this way be soon assayed. Sir, said Melias to
  • Galahad, if it like you to suffer me to take the way on the left hand,
  • tell me, for there I shall well prove my strength. It were better, said
  • Galahad, ye rode not that way, for I deem I should better escape in
  • that way than ye. Nay, my lord, I pray you let me have that adventure.
  • Take it in God’s name, said Galahad.
  • CHAPTER XIII. Of the adventure that Melias had, and how Galahad
  • revenged him, and how Melias was carried into an abbey.
  • And then rode Melias into an old forest, and therein he rode two days
  • and more. And then he came into a fair meadow, and there was a fair
  • lodge of boughs. And then he espied in that lodge a chair, wherein was
  • a crown of gold, subtly wrought. Also there were cloths covered upon
  • the earth, and many delicious meats set thereon. Sir Melias beheld this
  • adventure, and thought it marvellous, but he had no hunger, but of the
  • crown of gold he took much keep; and therewith he stooped down and took
  • it up, and rode his way with it. And anon he saw a knight came riding
  • after him that said: Knight, set down that crown which is not yours,
  • and therefore defend you. Then Sir Melias blessed him and said: Fair
  • lord of heaven, help and save thy new-made knight. And then they let
  • their horses run as fast as they might, so that the other knight smote
  • Sir Melias through hauberk and through the left side, that he fell to
  • the earth nigh dead. And then he took the crown and went his way; and
  • Sir Melias lay still and had no power to stir.
  • In the meanwhile by fortune there came Sir Galahad and found him there
  • in peril of death. And then he said: Ah Melias, who hath wounded you?
  • therefore it had been better to have ridden the other way. And when Sir
  • Melias heard him speak: Sir, he said, for God’s love let me not die in
  • this forest, but bear me unto the abbey here beside, that I may be
  • confessed and have my rights. It shall be done, said Galahad, but where
  • is he that hath wounded you? With that Sir Galahad heard in the leaves
  • cry on high: Knight, keep thee from me. Ah sir, said Melias, beware,
  • for that is he that hath slain me. Sir Galahad answered: Sir knight,
  • come on your peril. Then either dressed to other, and came together as
  • fast as their horses might run, and Galahad smote him so that his spear
  • went through his shoulder, and smote him down off his horse, and in the
  • falling Galahad’s spear brake.
  • With that came out another knight out of the leaves, and brake a spear
  • upon Galahad or ever he might turn him. Then Galahad drew out his sword
  • and smote off the left arm of him, so that it fell to the earth. And
  • then he fled, and Sir Galahad pursued fast after him. And then he
  • turned again unto Sir Melias, and there he alighted and dressed him
  • softly on his horse to-fore him, for the truncheon of his spear was in
  • his body; and Sir Galahad stert up behind him, and held him in his
  • arms, and so brought him to the abbey, and there unarmed him and
  • brought him to his chamber. And then he asked his Saviour. And when he
  • had received Him he said unto Sir Galahad: Sir, let death come when it
  • pleaseth him. And therewith he drew out the truncheon of the spear out
  • of his body: and then he swooned.
  • Then came there an old monk which sometime had been a knight, and
  • beheld Sir Melias. And anon he ransacked him; and then he said unto Sir
  • Galahad: I shall heal him of his wound, by the grace of God, within the
  • term of seven weeks. Then was Sir Galahad glad, and unarmed him, and
  • said he would abide there three days. And then he asked Sir Melias how
  • it stood with him. Then he said he was turned unto helping, God be
  • thanked.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How Sir Galahad departed, and how he was commanded to go
  • to the Castle of Maidens to destroy the wicked custom.
  • Now will I depart, said Galahad, for I have much on hand, for many good
  • knights be full busy about it, and this knight and I were in the same
  • quest of the Sangreal. Sir, said a good man, for his sin he was thus
  • wounded; and I marvel, said the good man, how ye durst take upon you so
  • rich a thing as the high order of knighthood without clean confession,
  • and that was the cause ye were bitterly wounded. For the way on the
  • right hand betokeneth the highway of our Lord Jesu Christ, and the way
  • of a good true good liver. And the other way betokeneth the way of
  • sinners and of misbelievers. And when the devil saw your pride and
  • presumption, for to take you in the quest of the Sangreal, that made
  • you to be overthrown, for it may not be enchieved but by virtuous
  • living. Also, the writing on the cross was a signification of heavenly
  • deeds, and of knightly deeds in God’s works, and no knightly deeds in
  • worldly works. And pride is head of all deadly sins, that caused this
  • knight to depart from Galahad. And where thou tookest the crown of gold
  • thou sinnest in covetise and in theft: all this were no knightly deeds.
  • And this Galahad, the holy knight, the which fought with the two
  • knights, the two knights signify the two deadly sins which were wholly
  • in this knight Melias; and they might not withstand you, for ye are
  • without deadly sin.
  • Now departed Galahad from thence, and betaught them all unto God. Sir
  • Melias said: My lord Galahad, as soon as I may ride I shall seek you.
  • God send you health, said Galahad, and so took his horse and departed,
  • and rode many journeys forward and backward, as adventure would lead
  • him. And at the last it happened him to depart from a place or a castle
  • the which was named Abblasoure; and he had heard no mass, the which he
  • was wont ever to hear or ever he departed out of any castle or place,
  • and kept that for a custom. Then Sir Galahad came unto a mountain where
  • he found an old chapel, and found there nobody, for all, all was
  • desolate; and there he kneeled to-fore the altar, and besought God of
  • wholesome counsel. So as he prayed he heard a voice that said: Go thou
  • now, thou adventurous knight, to the Castle of Maidens, and there do
  • thou away the wicked customs.
  • CHAPTER XV. How Sir Galahad fought with the knights of the castle, and
  • destroyed the wicked custom.
  • When Sir Galahad heard this he thanked God, and took his horse; and he
  • had not ridden but half a mile, he saw in the valley afore him a strong
  • castle with deep ditches, and there ran beside it a fair river that
  • hight Severn; and there he met with a man of great age, and either
  • saluted other, and Galahad asked him the castle’s name. Fair sir, said
  • he, it is the Castle of Maidens. That is a cursed castle, said Galahad,
  • and all they that be conversant therein, for all pity is out thereof,
  • and all hardiness and mischief is therein. Therefore, I counsel you,
  • sir knight, to turn again. Sir, said Galahad, wit you well I shall not
  • turn again. Then looked Sir Galahad on his arms that nothing failed
  • him, and then he put his shield afore him; and anon there met him seven
  • fair maidens, the which said unto him: Sir knight, ye ride here in a
  • great folly, for ye have the water to pass over. Why should I not pass
  • the water? said Galahad. So rode he away from them and met with a
  • squire that said: Knight, those knights in the castle defy you, and
  • defenden you ye go no further till that they wit what ye would. Fair
  • sir, said Galahad, I come for to destroy the wicked custom of this
  • castle. Sir, an ye will abide by that ye shall have enough to do. Go
  • you now, said Galahad, and haste my needs.
  • Then the squire entered into the castle. And anon after there came out
  • of the castle seven knights, and all were brethren. And when they saw
  • Galahad they cried: Knight, keep thee, for we assure thee nothing but
  • death. Why, said Galahad, will ye all have ado with me at once? Yea,
  • said they, thereto mayst thou trust. Then Galahad put forth his spear
  • and smote the foremost to the earth, that near he brake his neck. And
  • therewithal the other smote him on his shield great strokes, so that
  • their spears brake. Then Sir Galahad drew out his sword, and set upon
  • them so hard that it was marvel to see it, and so through great force
  • he made them to forsake the field; and Galahad chased them till they
  • entered into the castle, and so passed through the castle at another
  • gate.
  • And there met Sir Galahad an old man clothed in religious clothing, and
  • said: Sir, have here the keys of this castle. Then Sir Galahad opened
  • the gates, and saw so much people in the streets that he might not
  • number them, and all said: Sir, ye be welcome, for long have we abiden
  • here our deliverance. Then came to him a gentlewoman and said: These
  • knights be fled, but they will come again this night, and here to begin
  • again their evil custom. What will ye that I shall do? said Galahad.
  • Sir, said the gentlewoman, that ye send after all the knights hither
  • that hold their lands of this castle, and make them to swear for to use
  • the customs that were used heretofore of old time. I will well, said
  • Galahad. And there she brought him an horn of ivory, bounden with gold
  • richly, and said: Sir, blow this horn which will be heard two mile
  • about this castle. When Sir Galahad had blown the horn he set him down
  • upon a bed.
  • Then came a priest to Galahad, and said: Sir, it is past a seven year
  • agone that these seven brethren came into this castle, and harboured
  • with the lord of this castle that hight the Duke Lianour, and he was
  • lord of all this country. And when they espied the duke’s daughter,
  • that was a full fair woman, then by their false covin they made debate
  • betwixt themself, and the duke of his goodness would have departed
  • them, and there they slew him and his eldest son. And then they took
  • the maiden and the treasure of the castle. And then by great force they
  • held all the knights of this castle against their will under their
  • obeissance, and in great service and truage, robbing and pilling the
  • poor common people of all that they had. So it happened on a day the
  • duke’s daughter said: Ye have done unto me great wrong to slay mine own
  • father, and my brother, and thus to hold our lands: not for then, she
  • said, ye shall not hold this castle for many years, for by one knight
  • ye shall be overcome. Thus she prophesied seven years agone. Well, said
  • the seven knights, sithen ye say so, there shall never lady nor knight
  • pass this castle but they shall abide maugre their heads, or die
  • therefore, till that knight be come by whom we shall lose this castle.
  • And therefore is it called the Maidens’ Castle, for they have devoured
  • many maidens. Now, said Galahad, is she here for whom this castle was
  • lost? Nay sir, said the priest, she was dead within these three nights
  • after that she was thus enforced; and sithen have they kept her younger
  • sister, which endureth great pains with mo other ladies.
  • By this were the knights of the country come, and then he made them do
  • homage and fealty to the king’s daughter, and set them in great ease of
  • heart. And in the morn there came one to Galahad and told him how that
  • Gawaine, Gareth, and Uwaine, had slain the seven brethren. I suppose
  • well, said Sir Galahad, and took his armour and his horse, and
  • commended them unto God.
  • CHAPTER XVI. How Sir Gawaine came to the abbey for to follow Galahad,
  • and how he was shriven to a hermit.
  • Now, saith the tale, after Sir Gawaine departed, he rode many journeys,
  • both toward and froward. And at the last he came to the abbey where Sir
  • Galahad had the white shield, and there Sir Gawaine learned the way to
  • sewe after Sir Galahad; and so he rode to the abbey where Melias lay
  • sick, and there Sir Melias told Sir Gawaine of the marvellous
  • adventures that Sir Galahad did. Certes, said Sir Gawaine, I am not
  • happy that I took not the way that he went, for an I may meet with him
  • I will not depart from him lightly, for all marvellous adventures Sir
  • Galahad enchieveth. Sir, said one of the monks, he will not of your
  • fellowship. Why? said Sir Gawaine. Sir, said he, for ye be wicked and
  • sinful, and he is full blessed. Right as they thus stood talking there
  • came in riding Sir Gareth. And then they made joy either of other. And
  • on the morn they heard mass, and so departed. And by the way they met
  • with Sir Uwaine les Avoutres, and there Sir Uwaine told Sir Gawaine how
  • he had met with none adventure sith he departed from the court. Nor we,
  • said Sir Gawaine. And either promised other of the three knights not to
  • depart while they were in that quest, but if fortune caused it.
  • So they departed and rode by fortune till that they came by the Castle
  • of Maidens; and there the seven brethren espied the three knights, and
  • said: Sithen, we be flemed by one knight from this castle, we shall
  • destroy all the knights of King Arthur’s that we may overcome, for the
  • love of Sir Galahad. And therewith the seven knights set upon the three
  • knights, and by fortune Sir Gawaine slew one ot the brethren, and each
  • one of his fellows slew another, and so slew the remnant. And then they
  • took the way under the castle, and there they lost the way that Sir
  • Galahad rode, and there everych of them departed from other; and Sir
  • Gawaine rode till he came to an hermitage, and there he found the good
  • man saying his evensong of Our Lady; and there Sir Gawaine asked
  • harbour for charity, and the good man granted it him gladly.
  • Then the good man asked him what he was. Sir, he said, I am a knight of
  • King Arthur’s that am in the quest of the Sangreal, and my name is Sir
  • Gawaine. Sir, said the good man, I would wit how it standeth betwixt
  • God and you. Sir, said Sir Gawaine, I will with a good will shew you my
  • life if it please you; and there he told the hermit how a monk of an
  • abbey called me wicked knight. He might well say it, said the hermit,
  • for when ye were first made knight ye should have taken you to knightly
  • deeds and virtuous living, and ye have done the contrary, for ye have
  • lived mischievously many winters; and Sir Galahad is a maid and sinned
  • never, and that is the cause he shall enchieve where he goeth that ye
  • nor none such shall not attain, nor none in your fellowship, for ye
  • have used the most untruest life that ever I heard knight live. For
  • certes had ye not been so wicked as ye are, never had the seven
  • brethren been slain by you and your two fellows. For Sir Galahad
  • himself alone beat them all seven the day to-fore, but his living is
  • such he shall slay no man lightly. Also I may say you the Castle of
  • Maidens betokeneth the good souls that were in prison afore the
  • Incarnation of Jesu Christ. And the seven knights betoken the seven
  • deadly sins that reigned that time in the world; and I may liken the
  • good Galahad unto the son of the High Father, that lighted within a
  • maid, and bought all the souls out of thrall, so did Sir Galahad
  • deliver all the maidens out of the woful castle.
  • Now, Sir Gawaine, said the good man, thou must do penance for thy sin.
  • Sir, what penance shall I do? Such as I will give, said the good man.
  • Nay, said Sir Gawaine, I may do no penance; for we knights adventurous
  • oft suffer great woe and pain. Well, said the good man, and then he
  • held his peace. And on the morn Sir Gawaine departed from the hermit,
  • and betaught him unto God. And by adventure he met with Sir Aglovale
  • and Sir Griflet, two knights of the Table Round. And they two rode four
  • days without finding of any adventure, and at the fifth day they
  • departed. And everych held as fell them by adventure. Here leaveth the
  • tale of Sir Gawaine and his fellows, and speak we of Sir Galahad.
  • CHAPTER XVII. How Sir Galahad met with Sir Launcelot and Sir Percivale,
  • and smote them down, and departed from them.
  • So when Sir Galahad was departed from the Castle of Maidens he rode
  • till he came to a waste forest, and there he met with Sir Launcelot and
  • Sir Percivale, but they knew him not, for he was new disguised. Right
  • so Sir Launcelot, his father, dressed his spear and brake it upon Sir
  • Galahad, and Galahad smote him so again that he smote down horse and
  • man. And then he drew his sword, and dressed him unto Sir Percivale,
  • and smote him so on the helm, that it rove to the coif of steel; and
  • had not the sword swerved Sir Percivale had been slain, and with the
  • stroke he fell out of his saddle. This jousts was done to-fore the
  • hermitage where a recluse dwelled. And when she saw Sir Galahad ride,
  • she said: God be with thee, best knight of the world. Ah certes, said
  • she, all aloud that Launcelot and Percivale might hear it: An yonder
  • two knights had known thee as well as I do they would not have
  • encountered with thee. Then Sir Galahad heard her say so he was adread
  • to be known: therewith he smote his horse with his spurs and rode a
  • great pace froward them. Then perceived they both that he was Galahad;
  • and up they gat on their horses, and rode fast after him, but in a
  • while he was out of their sight. And then they turned again with heavy
  • cheer. Let us spere some tidings, said Percivale, at yonder recluse. Do
  • as ye list, said Sir Launcelot.
  • When Sir Percivale came to the recluse she knew him well enough, and
  • Sir Launcelot both. But Sir Launcelot rode overthwart and endlong in a
  • wild forest, and held no path but as wild adventure led him. And at the
  • last he came to a stony cross which departed two ways in waste land;
  • and by the cross was a stone that was of marble, but it was so dark
  • that Sir Launcelot might not wit what it was. Then Sir Launcelot looked
  • by him, and saw an old chapel, and there he weened to have found
  • people; and Sir Launcelot tied his horse till a tree, and there he did
  • off his shield and hung it upon a tree, and then went to the chapel
  • door, and found it waste and broken. And within he found a fair altar,
  • full richly arrayed with cloth of clean silk, and there stood a fair
  • clean candlestick, which bare six great candles, and the candlestick
  • was of silver. And when Sir Launcelot saw this light he had great will
  • for to enter into the chapel, but he could find no place where he might
  • enter; then was he passing heavy and dismayed. Then he returned and
  • came to his horse and did off his saddle and bridle, and let him
  • pasture, and unlaced his helm, and ungirt his sword, and laid him down
  • to sleep upon his shield to-fore the cross.
  • CHAPTER XVIII. How Sir Launcelot, half sleeping and half waking, saw a
  • sick man borne in a litter, and how he was healed with the Sangreal.
  • And so he fell asleep; and half waking and sleeping he saw come by him
  • two palfreys all fair and white, the which bare a litter, therein lying
  • a sick knight. And when he was nigh the cross he there abode still. All
  • this Sir Launcelot saw and beheld, for he slept not verily; and he
  • heard him say: O sweet Lord, when shall this sorrow leave me? and when
  • shall the holy vessel come by me, wherethrough I shall be blessed? For
  • I have endured thus long, for little trespass. A full great while
  • complained the knight thus, and always Sir Launcelot heard it. With
  • that Sir Launcelot saw the candlestick with the six tapers come before
  • the cross, and he saw nobody that brought it. Also there came a table
  • of silver, and the holy vessel of the Sangreal, which Launcelot had
  • seen aforetime in King Pescheour’s house. And therewith the sick knight
  • set him up, and held up both his hands, and said: Fair sweet Lord,
  • which is here within this holy vessel; take heed unto me that I may be
  • whole of this malady. And therewith on his hands and on his knees he
  • went so nigh that he touched the holy vessel and kissed it, and anon he
  • was whole; and then he said: Lord God, I thank thee, for I am healed of
  • this sickness.
  • So when the holy vessel had been there a great while it went unto the
  • chapel with the chandelier and the light, so that Launcelot wist not
  • where it was become; for he was overtaken with sin that he had no power
  • to rise again the holy vessel; wherefore after that many men said of
  • him shame, but he took repentance after that. Then the sick knight
  • dressed him up and kissed the cross; anon his squire brought him his
  • arms, and asked his lord how he did. Certes, said he, I thank God right
  • well, through the holy vessel I am healed. But I have marvel of this
  • sleeping knight that had no power to awake when this holy vessel was
  • brought hither. I dare right well say, said the squire, that he
  • dwelleth in some deadly sin whereof he was never confessed. By my
  • faith, said the knight, whatsomever he be he is unhappy, for as I deem
  • he is of the fellowship of the Round Table, the which is entered into
  • the quest of the Sangreal. Sir, said the squire, here I have brought
  • you all your arms save your helm and your sword, and therefore by mine
  • assent now may ye take this knight’s helm and his sword: and so he did.
  • And when he was clean armed he took Sir Launcelot’s horse, for he was
  • better than his; and so departed they from the cross.
  • CHAPTER XIX. How a voice spake to Sir Launcelot, and how he found his
  • horse and his helm borne away, and after went afoot.
  • Then anon Sir Launcelot waked, and set him up, and bethought him what
  • he had seen there, and whether it were dreams or not. Right so heard he
  • a voice that said: Sir Launcelot, more harder than is the stone, and
  • more bitter than is the wood, and more naked and barer than is the leaf
  • of the fig tree; therefore go thou from hence, and withdraw thee from
  • this holy place. And when Sir Launcelot heard this he was passing heavy
  • and wist not what to do, and so departed sore weeping, and cursed the
  • time that he was born. For then he deemed never to have had worship
  • more. For those words went to his heart, till that he knew wherefore he
  • was called so. Then Sir Launcelot went to the cross and found his helm,
  • his sword, and his horse taken away. And then he called himself a very
  • wretch, and most unhappy of all knights; and there he said: My sin and
  • my wickedness have brought me unto great dishonour. For when I sought
  • worldly adventures for worldly desires, I ever enchieved them and had
  • the better in every place, and never was I discomfit in no quarrel,
  • were it right or wrong. And now I take upon me the adventures of holy
  • things, and now I see and understand that mine old sin hindereth me and
  • shameth me, so that I had no power to stir nor speak when the holy
  • blood appeared afore me. So thus he sorrowed till it was day, and heard
  • the fowls sing: then somewhat he was comforted. But when Sir Launcelot
  • missed his horse and his harness then he wist well God was displeased
  • with him.
  • Then he departed from the cross on foot into a forest; and so by prime
  • he came to an high hill, and found an hermitage and a hermit therein
  • which was going unto mass. And then Launcelot kneeled down and cried on
  • Our Lord mercy for his wicked works. So when mass was done Launcelot
  • called him, and prayed him for charity for to hear his life. With a
  • good will, said the good man. Sir, said he, be ye of King Arthur’s
  • court and of the fellowship of the Round Table? Yea forsooth, and my
  • name is Sir Launcelot du Lake that hath been right well said of, and
  • now my good fortune is changed, for I am the most wretch of the world.
  • The hermit beheld him and had marvel how he was so abashed. Sir, said
  • the hermit, ye ought to thank God more than any knight living, for He
  • hath caused you to have more worldly worship than any knight that now
  • liveth. And for your presumption to take upon you in deadly sin for to
  • be in His presence, where His flesh and His blood was, that caused you
  • ye might not see it with worldly eyes; for He will not appear where
  • such sinners be, but if it be unto their great hurt and unto their
  • great shame; and there is no knight living now that ought to give God
  • so great thank as ye, for He hath given you beauty, seemliness, and
  • great strength above all other knights; and therefore ye are the more
  • beholding unto God than any other man, to love Him and dread Him, for
  • your strength and manhood will little avail you an God be against you.
  • CHAPTER XX. How Sir Launcelot was shriven, and what sorrow he made and
  • of the good ensamples which were shewed him.
  • Then Sir Launcelot wept with heavy cheer, and said: Now I know well ye
  • say me sooth. Sir, said the good man, hide none old sin from me. Truly,
  • said Sir Launcelot, that were me full loath to discover. For this
  • fourteen year I never discovered one thing that I have used, and that
  • may I now wite my shame and my disadventure. And then he told there
  • that good man all his life. And how he had loved a queen unmeasurably
  • and out of measure long. And all my great deeds of arms that I have
  • done, I did for the most part for the queen’s sake, and for her sake
  • would I do battle were it right or wrong, and never did I battle all
  • only for God’s sake, but for to win worship and to cause me to be the
  • better beloved and little or nought I thanked God of it. Then Sir
  • Launcelot said: I pray you counsel me. I will counsel you, said the
  • hermit, if ye will ensure me that ye will never come in that queen’s
  • fellowship as much as ye may forbear. And then Sir Launcelot promised
  • him he nold, by the faith of his body. Look that your heart and your
  • mouth accord, said the good man, and I shall ensure you ye shall have
  • more worship than ever ye had.
  • Holy father, said Sir Launcelot, I marvel of the voice that said to me
  • marvellous words, as ye have heard to-forehand. Have ye no marvel, said
  • the good man thereof, for it seemeth well God loveth you; for men may
  • understand a stone is hard of kind, and namely one more than another;
  • and that is to understand by thee, Sir Launcelot, for thou wilt not
  • leave thy sin for no goodness that God hath sent thee; therefore thou
  • art more than any stone, and never wouldst thou be made nesh nor by
  • water nor by fire, and that is the heat of the Holy Ghost may not enter
  • in thee. Now take heed, in all the world men shall not find one knight
  • to whom Our Lord hath given so much of grace as He hath given you, for
  • He hath given you fairness with seemliness, He hath given thee wit,
  • discretion to know good from evil, He hath given thee prowess and
  • hardiness, and given thee to work so largely that thou hast had at all
  • days the better wheresomever thou came; and now Our Lord will suffer
  • thee no longer, but that thou shalt know Him whether thou wilt or nylt.
  • And why the voice called thee bitterer than wood, for where overmuch
  • sin dwelleth, there may be but little sweetness, wherefore thou art
  • likened to an old rotten tree.
  • Now have I shewed thee why thou art harder than the stone and bitterer
  • than the tree. Now shall I shew thee why thou art more naked and barer
  • than the fig tree. It befell that Our Lord on Palm Sunday preached in
  • Jerusalem, and there He found in the people that all hardness was
  • harboured in them, and there He found in all the town not one that
  • would harbour him. And then He went without the town, and found in
  • midst of the way a fig tree, the which was right fair and well
  • garnished of leaves, but fruit had it none. Then Our Lord cursed the
  • tree that bare no fruit; that betokeneth the fig tree unto Jerusalem,
  • that had leaves and no fruit. So thou, Sir Launcelot, when the Holy
  • Grail was brought afore thee, He found in thee no fruit, nor good
  • thought nor good will, and defouled with lechery. Certes, said Sir
  • Launcelot, all that you have said is true, and from henceforward I cast
  • me, by the grace of God, never to be so wicked as I have been, but as
  • to follow knighthood and to do feats of arms.
  • Then the good man enjoined Sir Launcelot such penance as he might do
  • and to sewe knighthood, and so assoiled him, and prayed Sir Launcelot
  • to abide with him all that day. I will well, said Sir Launcelot, for I
  • have neither helm, nor horse, nor sword. As for that, said the good
  • man, I shall help you or to-morn at even of an horse, and all that
  • longed unto you. And then Sir Launcelot repented him greatly.
  • _Here endeth off the history of Sir Launcelot. And here followeth of
  • Sir Percivale de Galis, which is the fourteenth book._
  • BOOK XIV.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Percivale came to a recluse and asked counsel, and
  • how she told him that she was his aunt.
  • Now saith the tale, that when Sir Launcelot was ridden after Sir
  • Galahad, the which had all these adventures above said, Sir Percivale
  • turned again unto the recluse, where he deemed to have tidings of that
  • knight that Launcelot followed. And so he kneeled at her window, and
  • the recluse opened it and asked Sir Percivale what he would. Madam, he
  • said, I am a knight of King Arthur’s court, and my name is Sir
  • Percivale de Galis. When the recluse heard his name she had great joy
  • of him, for mickle she had loved him to-fore any other knight, for she
  • ought to do so, for she was his aunt. And then she commanded the gates
  • to be opened, and there he had all the cheer that she might make him,
  • and all that was in her power was at his commandment.
  • So on the morn Sir Percivale went to the recluse and asked her if she
  • knew that knight with the white shield. Sir, said she, why would ye
  • wit? Truly, madam, said Sir Percivale, I shall never be well at ease
  • till that I know of that knight’s fellowship, and that I may fight with
  • him, for I may not leave him so lightly, for I have the shame yet. Ah,
  • Percivale, said she, would ye fight with him? I see well ye have great
  • will to be slain as your father was, through outrageousness. Madam,
  • said Sir Percivale, it seemeth by your words that ye know me. Yea, said
  • she, I well ought to know you, for I am your aunt, although I be in a
  • priory place. For some called me sometime the Queen of the Waste Lands,
  • and I was called the queen of most riches in the world; and it pleased
  • me never my riches so much as doth my poverty. Then Sir Percivale wept
  • for very pity when that he knew it was his aunt. Ah, fair nephew, said
  • she, when heard ye tidings of your mother? Truly, said he, I heard none
  • of her, but I dream of her much in my sleep; and therefore I wot not
  • whether she be dead or alive. Certes, fair nephew, said she, your
  • mother is dead, for after your departing from her she took such a
  • sorrow that anon, after she was confessed, she died. Now, God have
  • mercy on her soul, said Sir Percivale, it sore forthinketh me; but all
  • we must change the life. Now, fair aunt, tell me what is the knight? I
  • deem it be he that bare the red arms on Whitsunday. Wit you well, said
  • she, that this is he, for otherwise ought he not to do, but to go in
  • red arms; and that same knight hath no peer, for he worketh all by
  • miracle, and he shall never be overcome of none earthly man’s hand.
  • CHAPTER II. How Merlin likened the Round Table to the world, and how
  • the knights that should achieve the Sangreal should be known.
  • Also Merlin made the Round Table in tokening of roundness of the world,
  • for by the Round Table is the world signified by right, for all the
  • world, Christian and heathen, repair unto the Round Table; and when
  • they are chosen to be of the fellowship of the Round Table they think
  • them more blessed and more in worship than if they had gotten half the
  • world; and ye have seen that they have lost their fathers and their
  • mothers, and all their kin, and their wives and their children, for to
  • be of your fellowship. It is well seen by you; for since ye have
  • departed from your mother ye would never see her, ye found such
  • fellowship at the Round Table. When Merlin had ordained the Round Table
  • he said, by them which should be fellows of the Round Table the truth
  • of the Sangreal should be well known. And men asked him how men might
  • know them that should best do and to enchieve the Sangreal? Then he
  • said there should be three white bulls that should enchieve it, and the
  • two should be maidens, and the third should be chaste. And that one of
  • the three should pass his father as much as the lion passeth the
  • leopard, both of strength and hardiness.
  • They that heard Merlin say so said thus unto Merlin: Sithen there shall
  • be such a knight, thou shouldest ordain by thy crafts a siege, that no
  • man should sit in it but he all only that shall pass all other knights.
  • Then Merlin answered that he would do so. And then he made the Siege
  • Perilous, in the which Galahad sat in at his meat on Whitsunday last
  • past. Now, madam, said Sir Percivale, so much have I heard of you that
  • by my good will I will never have ado with Sir Galahad but by way of
  • kindness; and for God’s love, fair aunt, can ye teach me some way where
  • I may find him? for much would I love the fellowship of him. Fair
  • nephew, said she, ye must ride unto a castle the which is called
  • Goothe, where he hath a cousin-germain, and there may ye be lodged this
  • night. And as he teacheth you, seweth after as fast as ye can; and if
  • he can tell you no tidings of him, ride straight unto the Castle of
  • Carbonek, where the maimed king is there lying, for there shall ye hear
  • true tidings of him.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Percivale came into a monastery, where he found
  • King Evelake, which was an old man.
  • Then departed Sir Percivale from his aunt, either making great sorrow.
  • And so he rode till evensong time. And then he heard a clock smite; and
  • then he was ware of an house closed well with walls and deep ditches,
  • and there he knocked at the gate and was let in, and he alighted and
  • was led unto a chamber, and soon he was unarmed. And there he had right
  • good cheer all that night; and on the morn he heard his mass, and in
  • the monastery he found a priest ready at the altar. And on the right
  • side he saw a pew closed with iron, and behind the altar he saw a rich
  • bed and a fair, as of cloth of silk and gold.
  • Then Sir Percivale espied that therein was a man or a woman, for the
  • visage was covered; then he left off his looking and heard his service.
  • And when it came to the sacring, he that lay within that parclos
  • dressed him up, and uncovered his head; and then him beseemed a passing
  • old man, and he had a crown of gold upon his head, and his shoulders
  • were naked and unhilled unto his navel. And then Sir Percivale espied
  • his body was full of great wounds, both on the shoulders, arms, and
  • visage. And ever he held up his hands against Our Lord’s body, and
  • cried: Fair, sweet Father, Jesu Christ, forget not me. And so he lay
  • down, but always he was in his prayers and orisons; and him seemed to
  • be of the age of three hundred winter. And when the mass was done the
  • priest took Our Lord’s body and bare it to the sick king. And when he
  • had used it he did off his crown, and commanded the crown to be set on
  • the altar.
  • Then Sir Percivale asked one of the brethren what he was. Sir, said the
  • good man, ye have heard much of Joseph of Aramathie, how he was sent by
  • Jesu Christ into this land for to teach and preach the holy Christian
  • faith; and therefore he suffered many persecutions the which the
  • enemies of Christ did unto him, and in the city of Sarras he converted
  • a king whose name was Evelake. And so this king came with Joseph into
  • this land, and ever he was busy to be thereas the Sangreal was; and on
  • a time he nighed it so nigh that Our Lord was displeased with him, but
  • ever he followed it more and more, till God struck him almost blind.
  • Then this king cried mercy, and said: Fair Lord, let me never die till
  • the good knight of my blood of the ninth degree be come, that I may see
  • him openly that he shall enchieve the Sangreal, that I may kiss him.
  • CHAPTER IV. How Sir Percivale saw many men of arms bearing a dead
  • knight, and how he fought against them.
  • When the king thus had made his prayers he heard a voice that said:
  • Heard be thy prayers, for thou shalt not die till he have kissed thee.
  • And when that knight shall come the clearness of your eyes shall come
  • again, and thou shalt see openly, and thy wounds shall be healed, and
  • erst shall they never close. And this befell of King Evelake, and this
  • same king hath lived this three hundred winters this holy life, and men
  • say the knight is in the court that shall heal him. Sir, said the good
  • man, I pray you tell me what knight that ye be, and if ye be of King
  • Arthur’s court and of the Table Round. Yea forsooth, said he, and my
  • name is Sir Percivale de Galis. And when the good man understood his
  • name he made great joy of him.
  • And then Sir Percivale departed and rode till the hour of noon. And he
  • met in a valley about a twenty men of arms, which bare in a bier a
  • knight deadly slain. And when they saw Sir Percivale they asked him of
  • whence he was. And he answered: Of the court of King Arthur. Then they
  • cried all at once: Slay him. Then Sir Percivale smote the first to the
  • earth and his horse upon him. And then seven of the knights smote upon
  • his shield all at once, and the remnant slew his horse so that he fell
  • to the earth. So had they slain him or taken him had not the good
  • knight, Sir Galahad, with the red arms come there by adventure into
  • those parts. And when he saw all those knights upon one knight he
  • cried: Save me that knight’s life. And then he dressed him toward the
  • twenty men of arms as fast as his horse might drive, with his spear in
  • the rest, and smote the foremost horse and man to the earth. And when
  • his spear was broken he set his hand to his sword, and smote on the
  • right hand and on the left hand that it was marvel to see, and at every
  • stroke he smote one down or put him to a rebuke, so that they would
  • fight no more but fled to a thick forest, and Sir Galahad followed
  • them.
  • And when Sir Percivale saw him chase them so, he made great sorrow that
  • his horse was away. And then he wist well it was Sir Galahad. And then
  • he cried aloud: Ah fair knight, abide and suffer me to do thankings
  • unto thee, for much have ye done for me. But ever Sir Galahad rode so
  • fast that at the last he passed out of his sight. And as fast as Sir
  • Percivale might he went after him on foot, crying. And then he met with
  • a yeoman riding upon an hackney, the which led in his hand a great
  • steed blacker than any bear. Ah, fair friend, said Sir Percivale, as
  • ever I may do for you, and to be your true knight in the first place ye
  • will require me, that ye will lend me that black steed, that I might
  • overtake a knight the which rideth afore me. Sir knight, said the
  • yeoman, I pray you hold me excused of that, for that I may not do. For
  • wit ye well, the horse is such a man’s horse, that an I lent it you or
  • any man, that he would slay me. Alas, said Sir Percivale, I had never
  • so great sorrow as I have had for losing of yonder knight. Sir, said
  • the yeoman, I am right heavy for you, for a good horse would beseem you
  • well; but I dare not deliver you this horse but if ye would take him
  • from me. That will I not do, said Sir Percivale. And so they departed;
  • and Sir Percivale set him down under a tree, and made sorrow out of
  • measure. And as he was there, there came a knight riding on the horse
  • that the yeoman led, and he was clean armed.
  • CHAPTER V. How a yeoman desired him to get again an horse, and how Sir
  • Percivale’s hackney was slain, and how he gat an horse.
  • And anon the yeoman came pricking after as fast as ever he might, and
  • asked Sir Percivale if he saw any knight riding on his black steed.
  • Yea, sir, forsooth, said he; why, sir, ask ye me that? Ah, sir, that
  • steed he hath benome me with strength; wherefore my lord will slay me
  • in what place he findeth me. Well, said Sir Percivale, what wouldst
  • thou that I did? Thou seest well that I am on foot, but an I had a good
  • horse I should bring him soon again. Sir, said the yeoman, take mine
  • hackney and do the best ye can, and I shall sewe you on foot to wit how
  • that ye shall speed. Then Sir Percivale alighted upon that hackney, and
  • rode as fast as he might, and at the last he saw that knight. And then
  • he cried: Knight, turn again; and he turned and set his spear against
  • Sir Percivale, and he smote the hackney in the midst of the breast that
  • he fell down dead to the earth, and there he had a great fall, and the
  • other rode his way. And then Sir Percivale was wood wroth, and cried:
  • Abide, wicked knight; coward and false-hearted knight, turn again and
  • fight with me on foot. But he answered not, but passed on his way.
  • When Sir Percivale saw he would not turn he cast away his helm and
  • sword, and said: Now am I a very wretch, cursed and most unhappy above
  • all other knights. So in this sorrow he abode all that day till it was
  • night; and then he was faint, and laid him down and slept till it was
  • midnight; and then he awaked and saw afore him a woman which said unto
  • him right fiercely: Sir Percivale, what dost thou here? He answered, I
  • do neither good nor great ill. If thou wilt ensure me, said she, that
  • thou wilt fulfil my will when I summon thee, I shall lend thee mine own
  • horse which shall bear thee whither thou wilt. Sir Percivale was glad
  • of her proffer, and ensured her to fulfil all her desire. Then abide me
  • here, and I shall go and fetch you an horse. And so she came soon again
  • and brought an horse with her that was inly black. When Percivale
  • beheld that horse he marvelled that it was so great and so well
  • apparelled; and not for then he was so hardy, and he leapt upon him,
  • and took none heed of himself. And so anon as he was upon him he thrust
  • to him with his spurs, and so he rode by a forest, and the moon shone
  • clear. And within an hour and less he bare him four days’ journey
  • thence, until he came to a rough water the which roared, and his horse
  • would have borne him into it.
  • CHAPTER VI. Of the great danger that Sir Percivale was in by his horse,
  • and how he saw a serpent and a lion fight.
  • And when Sir Percivale came nigh the brim, and saw the water so
  • boistous, he doubted to overpass it. And then he made a sign of the
  • cross in his forehead. When the fiend felt him so charged he shook off
  • Sir Percivale, and he went into the water crying and roaring, making
  • great sorrow, and it seemed unto him that the water brent. Then Sir
  • Percivale perceived it was a fiend, the which would have brought him
  • unto his perdition. Then he commended himself unto God, and prayed Our
  • Lord to keep him from all such temptations; and so he prayed all that
  • night till on the morn that it was day; then he saw that he was in a
  • wild mountain the which was closed with the sea nigh all about, that he
  • might see no land about him which might relieve him, but wild beasts.
  • And then he went into a valley, and there he saw a young serpent bring
  • a young lion by the neck, and so he came by Sir Percivale. With that
  • came a great lion crying and roaring after the serpent. And as fast as
  • Sir Percivale saw this he marvelled, and hied him thither, but anon the
  • lion had overtaken the serpent and began battle with him. And then Sir
  • Percivale thought to help the lion, for he was the more natural beast
  • of the two; and therewith he drew his sword, and set his shield afore
  • him, and there he gave the serpent such a buffet that he had a deadly
  • wound. When the lion saw that, he made no resemblaunt to fight with
  • him, but made him all the cheer that a beast might make a man. Then
  • Percivale perceived that, and cast down his shield which was broken;
  • and then he did off his helm for to gather wind, for he was greatly
  • enchafed with the serpent: and the lion went alway about him fawning as
  • a spaniel. And then he stroked him on the neck and on the shoulders.
  • And then he thanked God of the fellowship of that beast. And about noon
  • the lion took his little whelp and trussed him and bare him there he
  • came from.
  • Then was Sir Percivale alone. And as the tale telleth, he was one of
  • the men of the world at that time which most believed in Our Lord Jesu
  • Christ, for in those days there were but few folks that believed in God
  • perfectly. For in those days the son spared not the father no more than
  • a stranger. And so Sir Percivale comforted himself in our Lord Jesu,
  • and besought God no temptation should bring him out of God’s service,
  • but to endure as his true champion. Thus when Sir Percivale had prayed
  • he saw the lion come toward him, and then he couched down at his feet.
  • And so all that night the lion and he slept together; and when Sir
  • Percivale slept he dreamed a marvellous dream, that there two ladies
  • met with him, and that one sat upon a lion, and that other sat upon a
  • serpent, and that one of them was young, and the other was old; and the
  • youngest him thought said: Sir Percivale, my lord saluteth thee, and
  • sendeth thee word that thou array thee and make thee ready, for to-morn
  • thou must fight with the strongest champion of the world. And if thou
  • be overcome thou shall not be quit for losing of any of thy members,
  • but thou shalt be shamed for ever to the world’s end. And then he asked
  • her what was her lord. And she said the greatest lord of all the world:
  • and so she departed suddenly that he wist not where.
  • CHAPTER VII. Of the vision that Sir Percivale saw, and how his vision
  • was expounded, and of his lion.
  • Then came forth the other lady that rode upon the serpent, and she
  • said: Sir Percivale, I complain me of you that ye have done unto me,
  • and have not offended unto you. Certes, madam, he said, unto you nor no
  • lady I never offended. Yes, said she, I shall tell you why. I have
  • nourished in this place a great while a serpent, which served me a
  • great while, and yesterday ye slew him as he gat his prey. Say me for
  • what cause ye slew him, for the lion was not yours. Madam, said Sir
  • Percivale, I know well the lion was not mine, but I did it for the lion
  • is of more gentler nature than the serpent, and therefore I slew him;
  • meseemeth I did not amiss against you. Madam, said he, what would ye
  • that I did? I would, said she, for the amends of my beast that ye
  • become my man. And then he answered: That will I not grant you. No,
  • said she, truly ye were never but my servant sin ye received the homage
  • of Our Lord Jesu Christ. Therefore, I ensure you in what place I may
  • find you without keeping I shall take you, as he that sometime was my
  • man. And so she departed from Sir Percivale and left him sleeping, the
  • which was sore travailed of his advision. And on the morn he arose and
  • blessed him, and he was passing feeble.
  • Then was Sir Percivale ware in the sea, and saw a ship come sailing
  • toward him; and Sir Percivale went unto the ship and found it covered
  • within and without with white samite. And at the board stood an old man
  • clothed in a surplice, in likeness of a priest. Sir, said Sir
  • Percivale, ye be welcome. God keep you, said the good man. Sir, said
  • the old man, of whence be ye? Sir, said Sir Percivale, I am of King
  • Arthur’s court, and a knight of the Table Round, the which am in the
  • quest of the Sangreal; and here am I in great duresse, and never like
  • to escape out of this wilderness. Doubt not, said the good man, an ye
  • be so true a knight as the order of chivalry requireth, and of heart as
  • ye ought to be, ye should not doubt that none enemy should slay you.
  • What are ye? said Sir Percivale. Sir, said the old man, I am of a
  • strange country, and hither I come to comfort you.
  • Sir, said Sir Percivale, what signifieth my dream that I dreamed this
  • night? And there he told him altogether: She which rode upon the lion
  • betokeneth the new law of holy church, that is to understand, faith,
  • good hope, belief, and baptism. For she seemed younger than the other
  • it is great reason, for she was born in the resurrection and the
  • passion of Our Lord Jesu Christ. And for great love she came to thee to
  • warn thee of thy great battle that shall befall thee. With whom, said
  • Sir Percivale, shall I fight? With the most champion of the world, said
  • the old man; for as the lady said, but if thou quit thee well thou
  • shalt not be quit by losing of one member, but thou shalt be shamed to
  • the world’s end. And she that rode on the serpent signifieth the old
  • law, and that serpent betokeneth a fiend. And why she blamed thee that
  • thou slewest her servant, it betokeneth nothing; the serpent that thou
  • slewest betokeneth the devil that thou rodest upon to the rock. And
  • when thou madest a sign of the cross, there thou slewest him, and put
  • away his power. And when she asked thee amends and to become her man,
  • and thou saidst thou wouldst not, that was to make thee to believe on
  • her and leave thy baptism. So he commanded Sir Percivale to depart, and
  • so he leapt over the board and the ship, and all went away he wist not
  • whither. Then he went up unto the rock and found the lion which always
  • kept him fellowship, and he stroked him upon the back and had great joy
  • of him.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How Sir Percivale saw a ship coming to him-ward, and how
  • the lady of the ship told him of her disheritance.
  • By that Sir Percivale had abiden there till mid-day he saw a ship came
  • rowing in the sea, as all the wind of the world had driven it. And so
  • it drove under that rock. And when Sir Percivale saw this he hied him
  • thither, and found the ship covered with silk more blacker than any
  • bear, and therein was a gentlewoman of great beauty, and she was
  • clothed richly that none might be better. And when she saw Sir
  • Percivale she said: Who brought you in this wilderness where ye be
  • never like to pass hence, for ye shall die here for hunger and
  • mischief? Damosel, said Sir Percivale, I serve the best man of the
  • world, and in his service he will not suffer me to die, for who that
  • knocketh shall enter, and who that asketh shall have, and who that
  • seeketh him he hideth him not. But then she said: Sir Percivale, wot ye
  • what I am? Yea, said he. Now who taught you my name? said she. Now,
  • said Sir Percivale, I know you better than ye ween. And I came out of
  • the waste forest where I found the Red Knight with the white shield,
  • said the damosel. Ah, damosel, said he, with that knight would I meet
  • passing fain. Sir knight, said she, an ye will ensure me by the faith
  • that ye owe unto knighthood that ye shall do my will what time I summon
  • you, and I shall bring you unto that knight. Yea, said he, I shall
  • promise you to fulfil your desire. Well, said she, now shall I tell
  • you. I saw him in the forest chasing two knights unto a water, the
  • which is called Mortaise; and they drove him into the water for dread
  • of death, and the two knights passed over, and the Red Knight passed
  • after, and there his horse was drenched, and he, through great
  • strength, escaped unto the land: thus she told him, and Sir Percivale
  • was passing glad thereof.
  • Then she asked him if he had ate any meat late. Nay, madam, truly I ate
  • no meat nigh this three days, but late here I spake with a good man
  • that fed me with his good words and holy, and refreshed me greatly. Ah,
  • sir knight, said she, that same man is an enchanter and a multiplier of
  • words. For an ye believe him ye shall plainly be shamed, and die in
  • this rock for pure hunger, and be eaten with wild beasts; and ye be a
  • young man and a goodly knight, and I shall help you an ye will. What
  • are ye, said Sir Percivale, that proffered me thus great kindness? I
  • am, said she, a gentlewoman that am disherited, which was sometime the
  • richest woman of the world. Damosel, said Sir Percivale, who hath
  • disherited you? for I have great pity of you. Sir, said she, I dwelled
  • with the greatest man of the world, and he made me so fair and clear
  • that there was none like me; and of that great beauty I had a little
  • pride more than I ought to have had. Also I said a word that pleased
  • him not. And then he would not suffer me to be any longer in his
  • company, and so drove me from mine heritage, and so disherited me, and
  • he had never pity of me nor of none of my council, nor of my court. And
  • sithen, sir knight, it hath befallen me so, and through me and mine I
  • have benome him many of his men, and made them to become my men. For
  • they ask never nothing of me but I give it them, that and much more.
  • Thus I and all my servants were against him night and day. Therefore I
  • know now no good knight, nor no good man, but I get them on my side an
  • I may. And for that I know that thou art a good knight, I beseech you
  • to help me; and for ye be a fellow of the Round Table, wherefore ye
  • ought not to fail no gentlewoman which is disherited, an she besought
  • you of help.
  • CHAPTER IX. How Sir Percivale promised her help, and how he required
  • her of love, and how he was saved from the fiend.
  • Then Sir Percivale promised her all the help that he might; and then
  • she thanked him. And at that time the weather was hot. Then she called
  • unto her a gentlewoman and bade her bring forth a pavilion; and so she
  • did, and pight it upon the gravel. Sir, said she, now may ye rest you
  • in this heat of the day. Then he thanked her, and she put off his helm
  • and his shield, and there he slept a great while. And then he awoke and
  • asked her if she had any meat, and she said: Yea, also ye shall have
  • enough. And so there was set enough upon the table, and thereon so much
  • that he had marvel, for there was all manner of meats that he could
  • think on. Also he drank there the strongest wine that ever he drank,
  • him thought, and therewith he was a little chafed more than he ought to
  • be; with that he beheld the gentlewoman, and him thought she was the
  • fairest creature that ever he saw. And then Sir Percivale proffered her
  • love, and prayed her that she would be his. Then she refused him, in a
  • manner, when he required her, for the cause he should be the more
  • ardent on her, and ever he ceased not to pray her of love. And when she
  • saw him well enchafed, then she said: Sir Percivale, wit you well I
  • shall not fulfil your will but if ye swear from henceforth ye shall be
  • my true servant, and to do nothing but that I shall command you. Will
  • ye ensure me this as ye be a true knight? Yea, said he, fair lady, by
  • the faith of my body. Well, said she, now shall ye do with me whatso it
  • please you; and now wit ye well ye are the knight in the world that I
  • have most desire to.
  • And then two squires were commanded to make a bed in midst of the
  • pavilion. And anon she was unclothed and laid therein. And then Sir
  • Percivale laid him down by her naked; and by adventure and grace he saw
  • his sword lie on the ground naked, in whose pommel was a red cross and
  • the sign of the crucifix therein, and bethought him on his knighthood
  • and his promise made to-forehand unto the good man; then he made a sign
  • of the cross in his forehead, and therewith the pavilion turned
  • up-so-down, and then it changed unto a smoke, and a black cloud, and
  • then he was adread and cried aloud:
  • CHAPTER X. How Sir Percivale for penance rove himself through the
  • thigh; and how she was known for the devil.
  • Fair sweet Father, Jesu Christ, ne let me not be shamed, the which was
  • nigh lost had not thy good grace been. And then he looked into a ship,
  • and saw her enter therein, which said: Sir Percivale, ye have betrayed
  • me. And so she went with the wind roaring and yelling, that it seemed
  • all the water brent after her. Then Sir Percivale made great sorrow,
  • and drew his sword unto him, saying: Sithen my flesh will be my master
  • I shall punish it; and therewith he rove himself through the thigh that
  • the blood stert about him, and said: O good Lord, take this in
  • recompensation of that I have done against thee, my Lord. So then he
  • clothed him and armed him, and called himself a wretch, saying: How
  • nigh was I lost, and to have lost that I should never have gotten
  • again, that was my virginity, for that may never be recovered after it
  • is once lost. And then he stopped his bleeding wound with a piece of
  • his shirt.
  • Thus as he made his moan he saw the same ship come from Orient that the
  • good man was in the day afore, and the noble knight was ashamed with
  • himself, and therewith he fell in a swoon. And when he awoke he went
  • unto him weakly, and there he saluted this good man. And then he asked
  • Sir Percivale: How hast thou done sith I departed? Sir, said he, here
  • was a gentlewoman and led me into deadly sin. And there he told him
  • altogether. Knew ye not the maid? said the good man. Sir, said he, nay,
  • but well I wot the fiend sent her hither to shame me. O good knight,
  • said he, thou art a fool, for that gentlewoman was the master fiend of
  • hell, the which hath power above all devils, and that was the old lady
  • that thou sawest in thine advision riding on the serpent. Then he told
  • Sir Percivale how our Lord Jesu Christ beat him out of heaven for his
  • sin, the which was the most brightest angel of heaven, and therefore he
  • lost his heritage. And that was the champion that thou foughtest
  • withal, the which had overcome thee had not the grace of God been. Now
  • beware Sir Percivale, and take this for an ensample. And then the good
  • man vanished away. Then Sir Percivale took his arms, and entered into
  • the ship, and so departed from thence.
  • _Here endeth the fourteenth book, which is of Sir Percivale. And here
  • followeth of Sir Launcelot, which is the fifteenth book._
  • BOOK XV.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Launcelot came to a chapel, where he found dead, in
  • a white shirt, a man of religion, of an hundred winter old.
  • When the hermit had kept Sir Launcelot three days, the hermit gat him
  • an horse, an helm, and a sword. And then he departed about the hour of
  • noon. And then he saw a little house. And when he came near he saw a
  • chapel, and there beside he saw an old man that was clothed all in
  • white full richly; and then Sir Launcelot said: God save you. God keep
  • you, said the good man, and make you a good knight. Then Sir Launcelot
  • alighted and entered into the chapel, and there he saw an old man dead,
  • in a white shirt of passing fine cloth.
  • Sir, said the good man, this man that is dead ought not to be in such
  • clothing as ye see him in, for in that he brake the oath of his order,
  • for he hath been more than an hundred winter a man of a religion. And
  • then the good man and Sir Launcelot went into the chapel; and the good
  • man took a stole about his neck, and a book, and then he conjured on
  • that book; and with that they saw in an hideous figure and horrible,
  • that there was no man so hard-hearted nor so hard but he should have
  • been afeard. Then said the fiend: Thou hast travailed me greatly; now
  • tell me what thou wilt with me. I will, said the good man, that thou
  • tell me how my fellow became dead, and whether he be saved or damned.
  • Then he said with an horrible voice: He is not lost but saved. How may
  • that be? said the good man; it seemed to me that he lived not well, for
  • he brake his order for to wear a shirt where he ought to wear none, and
  • who that trespasseth against our order doth not well. Not so, said the
  • fiend, this man that lieth here dead was come of a great lineage. And
  • there was a lord that hight the Earl de Vale, that held great war
  • against this man’s nephew, the which hight Aguarus. And so this Aguarus
  • saw the earl was bigger than he. Then he went for to take counsel of
  • his uncle, the which lieth here dead as ye may see. And then he asked
  • leave, and went out of his hermitage for to maintain his nephew against
  • the mighty earl; and so it happed that this man that lieth here dead
  • did so much by his wisdom and hardiness that the earl was taken, and
  • three of his lords, by force of this dead man.
  • CHAPTER II. Of a dead man, how men would have hewn him, and it would
  • not be, and how Sir Launcelot took the hair of the dead man.
  • Then was there peace betwixt the earl and this Aguarus, and great
  • surety that the earl should never war against him. Then this dead man
  • that here lieth came to this hermitage again; and then the earl made
  • two of his nephews for to be avenged upon this man. So they came on a
  • day, and found this dead man at the sacring of his mass, and they abode
  • him till he had said mass. And then they set upon him and drew out
  • swords to have slain him; but there would no sword bite on him more
  • than upon a gad of steel, for the high Lord which he served He him
  • preserved. Then made they a great fire, and did off all his clothes,
  • and the hair off his back. And then this dead man hermit said unto
  • them: Ween you to burn me? It shall not lie in your power nor to perish
  • me as much as a thread, an there were any on my body. No? said one of
  • them, it shall be assayed. And then they despoiled him, and put upon
  • him this shirt, and cast him in a fire, and there he lay all that night
  • till it was day in that fire, and was not dead, and so in the morn I
  • came and found him dead; but I found neither thread nor skin tamed, and
  • so took him out of the fire with great fear, and laid him here as ye
  • may see. And now may ye suffer me to go my way, for I have said you the
  • sooth. And then he departed with a great tempest.
  • Then was the good man and Sir Launcelot more gladder than they were
  • to-fore. And then Sir Launcelot dwelled with that good man that night.
  • Sir, said the good man, be ye not Sir Launcelot du Lake? Yea, sir, said
  • he. What seek ye in this country? Sir, said Sir Launcelot, I go to seek
  • the adventures of the Sangreal. Well, said he, seek it ye may well, but
  • though it were here ye shall have no power to see it no more than a
  • blind man should see a bright sword, and that is long on your sin, and
  • else ye were more abler than any man living. And then Sir Launcelot
  • began to weep. Then said the good man: Were ye confessed sith ye
  • entered into the quest of the Sangreal? Yea, sir, said Sir Launcelot.
  • Then upon the morn when the good man had sung his mass, then they
  • buried the dead man. Then Sir Launcelot said: Father, what shall I do?
  • Now, said the good man, I require you take this hair that was this holy
  • man’s and put it next thy skin, and it shall prevail thee greatly. Sir,
  • and I will do it, said Sir Launcelot. Also I charge you that ye eat no
  • flesh as long as ye be in the quest of the Sangreal, nor ye shall drink
  • no wine, and that ye hear mass daily an ye may do it. So he took the
  • hair and put it upon him, and so departed at evensong-time.
  • And so rode he into a forest, and there he met with a gentlewoman
  • riding upon a white palfrey, and then she asked him: Sir knight,
  • whither ride ye? Certes, damosel, said Launcelot, I wot not whither I
  • ride but as fortune leadeth me. Ah, Sir Launcelot, said she, I wot what
  • adventure ye seek, for ye were afore time nearer than ye be now, and
  • yet shall ye see it more openly than ever ye did, and that shall ye
  • understand in short time. Then Sir Launcelot asked her where he might
  • be harboured that night. Ye shall not find this day nor night, but
  • to-morn ye shall find harbour good, and ease of that ye be in doubt of
  • And then he commended her unto God. Then he rode till that he came to a
  • Cross, and took that for his host as for that night.
  • CHAPTER III. Of an advision that Sir Launcelot had, and how he told it
  • to an hermit, and desired counsel of him.
  • And so he put his horse to pasture, and did off his helm and his
  • shield, and made his prayers unto the Cross that he never fall in
  • deadly sin again. And so he laid him down to sleep. And anon as he was
  • asleep it befell him there an advision, that there came a man afore him
  • all by compass of stars, and that man had a crown of gold on his head
  • and that man led in his fellowship seven kings and two knights. And all
  • these worshipped the Cross, kneeling upon their knees, holding up their
  • hands toward the heaven. And all they said: Fair sweet Father of heaven
  • come and visit us, and yield unto us everych as we have deserved.
  • Then looked Launcelot up to the heaven, and him seemed the clouds did
  • open, and an old man came down, with a company of angels, and alighted
  • among them, and gave unto everych his blessing, and called them his
  • servants, and good and true knights. And when this old man had said
  • thus he came to one of those knights, and said: I have lost all that I
  • have set in thee, for thou hast ruled thee against me as a warrior, and
  • used wrong wars with vain-glory, more for the pleasure of the world
  • than to please me, therefore thou shalt be confounded without thou
  • yield me my treasure. All this advision saw Sir Launcelot at the Cross.
  • And on the morn he took his horse and rode till mid-day; and there by
  • adventure he met with the same knight that took his horse, helm, and
  • his sword, when he slept when the Sangreal appeared afore the Cross.
  • When Sir Launcelot saw him he saluted hin not fair, but cried on high:
  • Knight, keep thee, for thou hast done to me great unkindness. And then
  • they put afore them their spears, and Sir Launcelot came so fiercely
  • upon him that he smote him and his horse down to the earth, that he had
  • nigh broken his neck. Then Sir Launcelot took the knight’s horse that
  • was his own aforehand, and descended from the horse he sat upon, and
  • mounted upon his own horse, and tied the knight’s own horse to a tree,
  • that he might find that horse when that he was arisen. Then Sir
  • Launcelot rode till night, and by adventure he met an hermit, and each
  • of them saluted other; and there he rested with that good man all
  • night, and gave his horse such as he might get. Then said the good man
  • unto Launcelot: Of whence be ye? Sir, said he, I am of Arthur’s court,
  • and my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake that am in the quest of the
  • Sangreal, and therefore I pray you to counsel me of a vision the which
  • I had at the Cross. And so he told him all.
  • CHAPTER IV. How the hermit expounded to Sir Launcelot his advision, and
  • told him that Sir Galahad was his son.
  • Lo, Sir Launcelot, said the good man, there thou mightest understand
  • the high lineage that thou art come of, and thine advision betokeneth.
  • After the passion of Jesu Christ forty year, Joseph of Aramathie
  • preached the victory of King Evelake, that he had in the battles the
  • better of his enemies. And of the seven kings and the two knights: the
  • first of them is called Nappus, an holy man; and the second hight
  • Nacien, in remembrance of his grandsire, and in him dwelled our Lord
  • Jesu Christ; and the third was called Helias le Grose; and the fourth
  • hight Lisais; and the fifth hight Jonas, he departed out of his country
  • and went into Wales, and took there the daughter of Manuel, whereby he
  • had the land of Gaul, and he came to dwell in this country. And of him
  • came King Launcelot thy grandsire, the which there wedded the king’s
  • daughter of Ireland, and he was as worthy a man as thou art, and of him
  • came King Ban, thy father, the which was the last of the seven kings.
  • And by thee, Sir Launcelot, it signifieth that the angels said thou
  • were none of the seven fellowships. And the last was the ninth knight,
  • he was signified to a lion, for he should pass all manner of earthly
  • knights, that is Sir Galahad, the which thou gat on King Pelles’
  • daughter; and thou ought to thank God more than any other man living,
  • for of a sinner earthly thou hast no peer as in knighthood, nor never
  • shall be. But little thank hast thou given to God for all the great
  • virtues that God hath lent thee. Sir, said Launcelot, ye say that that
  • good knight is my son. That oughtest thou to know and no man better,
  • said the good man, for thou knewest the daughter of King Pelles
  • fleshly, and on her thou begattest Galahad, and that was he that at the
  • feast of Pentecost sat in the Siege Perilous; and therefore make thou
  • it known openly that he is one of thy begetting on King Pelles’
  • daughter, for that will be your worship and honour, and to all thy
  • kindred. And I counsel you in no place press not upon him to have ado
  • with him. Well, said Launcelot, meseemeth that good knight should pray
  • for me unto the High Father, that I fall not to sin again. Trust thou
  • well, said the good man, thou farest mickle the better for his prayer;
  • but the son shall not bear the wickedness of the father, nor the father
  • shall not bear the wickedness of the son, but everych shall bear his
  • own burden. And therefore beseek thou only God, and He will help thee
  • in all thy needs. And then Sir Launcelot and he went to supper, and so
  • laid him to rest, and the hair pricked so Sir Launcelot’s skin which
  • grieved him full sore, but he took it meekly, and suffered the pain.
  • And so on the morn he heard his mass and took his arms, and so took his
  • leave.
  • CHAPTER V. How Sir Launcelot jousted with many knights, and how he was
  • taken.
  • And then mounted upon his horse, and rode into a forest, and held no
  • highway. And as he looked afore him he saw a fair plain, and beside
  • that a fair castle, and afore the castle were many pavilions of silk
  • and of diverse hue. And him seemed that he saw there five hundred
  • knights riding on horseback; and there were two parties: they that were
  • of the castle were all on black horses and their trappings black, and
  • they that were without were all on white horses and trappings, and
  • everych hurtled to other that it marvelled Sir Launcelot. And at the
  • last him thought they of the castle were put to the worse.
  • Then thought Sir Launcelot for to help there the weaker party in
  • increasing of his chivalry. And so Sir Launcelot thrust in among the
  • party of the castle, and smote down a knight, horse and man, to the
  • earth. And then he rashed here and there, and did marvellous deeds of
  • arms. And then he drew out his sword, and struck many knights to the
  • earth, so that all those that saw him marvelled that ever one knight
  • might do so great deeds of arms.
  • But always the white knights held them nigh about Sir Launcelot, for to
  • tire him and wind him. But at the last, as a man may not ever endure,
  • Sir Launcelot waxed so faint of fighting and travailing, and was so
  • weary of his great deeds, but he might not lift up his arms for to give
  • one stroke, so that he weened never to have borne arms; and then they
  • all took and led him away into a forest, and there made him to alight
  • and to rest him.
  • And then all the fellowship of the castle were overcome for the default
  • of him.
  • Then they said all unto Sir Launcelot: Blessed be God that ye be now of
  • our fellowship, for we shall hold you in our prison; and so they left
  • him with few words.
  • And then Sir Launcelot made great sorrow, For never or now was I never
  • at tournament nor jousts but I had the best, and now I am shamed; and
  • then he said: Now I am sure that I am more sinfuller than ever I was.
  • Thus he rode sorrowing, and half a day he was out of despair, till that
  • he came into a deep valley. And when Sir Launcelot saw he might not
  • ride up into the mountain, he there alighted under an apple tree, and
  • there he left his helm and his shield, and put his horse unto pasture.
  • And then he laid him down to sleep. And then him thought there came an
  • old man afore him, the which said: Ah, Launcelot of evil faith and poor
  • belief, wherefore is thy will turned so lightly toward thy deadly sin?
  • And when he had said thus he vanished away, and Launcelot wist not
  • where he was become. Then he took his horse, and armed him; and as he
  • rode by the way he saw a chapel where was a recluse, which had a window
  • that she might see up to the altar. And all aloud she called Launcelot,
  • for that he seemed a knight errant. And then he came, and she asked him
  • what he was, and of what place, and where about he went to seek.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Sir Launcelot told his advision to a woman, and how she
  • expounded it to him.
  • And then he told her altogether word by word, and the truth how it
  • befell him at the tournament. And after told her his advision that he
  • had had that night in his sleep, and prayed her to tell him what it
  • might mean, for he was not well content with it. Ah, Launcelot, said
  • she, as long as ye were knight of earthly knighthood ye were the most
  • marvellous man of the world, and most adventurous. Now, said the lady,
  • sithen ye be set among the knights of heavenly adventures, if adventure
  • fell thee contrary at that tournament have thou no marvel, for that
  • tournament yesterday was but a tokening of Our Lord. And not for then
  • there was none enchantment, for they at the tournament were earthly
  • knights. The tournament was a token to see who should have most
  • knights, either Eliazar, the son of King Pelles, or Argustus, the son
  • of King Harlon. But Eliazar was all clothed in white, and Argustus was
  • covered in black, the which were [over]come.
  • All what this betokeneth I shall tell you. The day of Pentecost, when
  • King Arthur held his court, it befell that earthly kings and knights
  • took a tournament together, that is to say the quest of the Sangreal.
  • The earthly knights were they the which were clothed all in black, and
  • the covering betokeneth the sins whereof they be not confessed. And
  • they with the covering of white betokeneth virginity, and they that
  • chose chastity. And thus was the quest begun in them. Then thou beheld
  • the sinners and the good men, and when thou sawest the sinners
  • overcome, thou inclinest to that party for bobaunce and pride of the
  • world, and all that must be left in that quest, for in this quest thou
  • shalt have many fellows and thy betters. For thou art so feeble of evil
  • trust and good belief, this made it when thou were there where they
  • took thee and led thee into the forest. And anon there appeared the
  • Sangreal unto the white knights, but thou was so feeble of good belief
  • and faith that thou mightest not abide it for all the teaching of the
  • good man, but anon thou turnest to the sinners, and that caused thy
  • misadventure that thou should’st know good from evil and vain glory of
  • the world, the which is not worth a pear. And for great pride thou
  • madest great sorrow that thou hadst not overcome all the white knights
  • with the covering of white, by whom was betokened virginity and
  • chastity; and therefore God was wroth with you, for God loveth no such
  • deeds in this quest. And this advision signifieth that thou were of
  • evil faith and of poor belief, the which will make thee to fall into
  • the deep pit of hell if thou keep thee not. Now have I warned thee of
  • thy vain glory and of thy pride, that thou hast many times erred
  • against thy Maker. Beware of everlasting pain, for of all earthly
  • knights I have most pity of thee, for I know well thou hast not thy
  • peer of any earthly sinful man.
  • And so she commended Sir Launcelot to dinner. And after dinner he took
  • his horse and commended her to God, and so rode into a deep valley, and
  • there he saw a river and an high mountain. And through the water he
  • must needs pass, the which was hideous; and then in the name of God he
  • took it with good heart. And when he came over he saw an armed knight,
  • horse and man black as any bear; without any word he smote Sir
  • Launcelot’s horse to the earth; and so he passed on, he wist not where
  • he was become. And then he took his helm and his shield, and thanked
  • God of his adventure.
  • _Here leadeth off the story of Sir Launcelot, and speak we of Sir
  • Gawaine, the which is the sixteenth book._
  • BOOK XVI.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Gawaine was nigh weary of the quest of the Sangreal,
  • and of his marvellous dream.
  • When Sir Gawaine was departed from his fellowship he rode long without
  • any adventure. For he found not the tenth part of adventure as he was
  • wont to do. For Sir Gawaine rode from Whitsuntide until Michaelmas and
  • found none adventure that pleased him. So on a day it befell Gawaine
  • met with Sir Ector de Maris, and either made great joy of other that it
  • were marvel to tell. And so they told everych other, and complained
  • them greatly that they could find none adventure. Truly, said Sir
  • Gawaine unto Sir Ector, I am nigh weary of this quest, and loath I am
  • to follow further in strange countries. One thing marvelled me, said
  • Sir Ector, I have met with twenty knights, fellows of mine, and all
  • they complain as I do. I have marvel, said Sir Gawaine, where that Sir
  • Launcelot, your brother, is. Truly, said Sir Ector, I cannot hear of
  • him, nor of Sir Galahad, Percivale, nor Sir Bors. Let them be, said Sir
  • Gawaine, for they four have no peers. And if one thing were not in Sir
  • Launcelot he had no fellow of none earthly man; but he is as we be, but
  • if he took more pain upon him. But an these four be met together they
  • will be loath that any man meet with them; for an they fail of the
  • Sangreal it is in waste of all the remnant to recover it.
  • Thus Ector and Gawaine rode more than eight days, and on a Saturday
  • they found an old chapel, the which was wasted that there seemed no man
  • thither repaired; and there they alighted, and set their spears at the
  • door, and in they entered into the chapel, and there made their orisons
  • a great while, and set them down in the sieges of the chapel. And as
  • they spake of one thing and other, for heaviness they fell asleep, and
  • there befell them both marvellous adventures. Sir Gawaine him seemed he
  • came into a meadow full of herbs and flowers, and there he saw a rack
  • of bulls, an hundred and fifty, that were proud and black, save three
  • of them were all white, and one had a black spot, and the other two
  • were so fair and so white that they might be no whiter. And these three
  • bulls which were so fair were tied with two strong cords. And the
  • remnant of the bulls said among them: Go we hence to seek better
  • pasture. And so some went, and some came again, but they were so lean
  • that they might not stand upright; and of the bulls that were so white,
  • that one came again and no mo. But when this white bull was come again
  • among these other there rose up a great cry for lack of wind that
  • failed them; and so they departed one here and another there: this
  • advision befell Gawaine that night.
  • CHAPTER II. Of the advision of Sir Ector, and how he jousted with Sir
  • Uwaine les Avoutres, his sworn brother.
  • But to Ector de Maris befell another vision the contrary. For it seemed
  • him that his brother, Sir Launcelot, and he alighted out of a chair and
  • leapt upon two horses, and the one said to the other: Go we seek that
  • we shall not find. And him thought that a man beat Sir Launcelot, and
  • despoiled him, and clothed him in another array, the which was all full
  • of knots, and set him upon an ass, and so he rode till he came to the
  • fairest well that ever he saw; and Sir Launcelot alighted and would
  • have drunk of that well. And when he stooped to drink of the water the
  • water sank from him. And when Sir Launcelot saw that, he turned and
  • went thither as the head came from. And in the meanwhile he trowed that
  • himself and Sir Ector rode till that they came to a rich man’s house
  • where there was a wedding. And there he saw a king the which said: Sir
  • knight, here is no place for you. And then he turned again unto the
  • chair that he came from.
  • Thus within a while both Gawaine and Ector awaked, and either told
  • other of their advision, the which marvelled them greatly. Truly, said
  • Ector, I shall never be merry till I hear tidings of my brother
  • Launcelot. Now as they sat thus talking they saw an hand showing unto
  • the elbow, and was covered with red samite, and upon that hung a bridle
  • not right rich, and held within the fist a great candle which burned
  • right clear, and so passed afore them, and entered into the chapel, and
  • then vanished away and they wist not where. And anon came down a voice
  • which said: Knights of full evil faith and of poor belief, these two
  • things have failed you, and therefore ye may not come to the adventures
  • of the Sangreal.
  • Then first spake Gawaine and said: Ector, have ye heard these words?
  • Yea truly, said Sir Ector, I heard all. Now go we, said Sir Ector, unto
  • some hermit that will tell us of our advision, for it seemeth me we
  • labour all in vain. And so they departed and rode into a valley, and
  • there met with a squire which rode on an hackney, and they saluted him
  • fair. Sir, said Gawaine, can thou teach us to any hermit? Here is one
  • in a little mountain, but it is so rough there may no horse go thither,
  • and therefore ye must go upon foot; there shall ye find a poor house,
  • and there is Nacien the hermit, which is the holiest man in this
  • country. And so they departed either from other.
  • And then in a valley they met with a knight all armed, which proffered
  • them to joust as far as he saw them. In the name of God, said Sir
  • Gawaine, sith I departed from Camelot there was none proffered me to
  • joust but once. And now, sir, said Ector, let me joust with him. Nay,
  • said Gawaine, ye shall not but if I be beat; it shall not for-think me
  • then if ye go after me. And then either embraced other to joust and
  • came together as fast as their horses might run, and brast their
  • shields and the mails, and the one more than the other; and Gawaine was
  • wounded in the left side, but the other knight was smitten through the
  • breast, and the spear came out on the other side, and so they fell both
  • out of their saddles, and in the falling they brake both their spears.
  • Anon Gawaine arose and set his hand to his sword, and cast his shield
  • afore him. But all for naught was it, for the knight had no power to
  • arise against him. Then said Gawaine: Ye must yield you as an overcome
  • man, or else I may slay you. Ah, sir knight, said he, I am but dead,
  • for God’s sake and of your gentleness lead me here unto an abbey that I
  • may receive my Creator. Sir, said Gawaine, I know no house of religion
  • hereby. Sir, said the knight, set me on an horse to-fore you, and I
  • shall teach you. Gawaine set him up in the saddle, and he leapt up
  • behind him for to sustain him, and so came to an abbey where they were
  • well received; and anon he was unarmed, and received his Creator. Then
  • he prayed Gawaine to draw out the truncheon of the spear out of his
  • body. Then Gawaine asked him what he was, that knew him not. I am, said
  • he, of King Arthur’s court, and was a fellow of the Round Table, and we
  • were brethren sworn together; and now Sir Gawaine, thou hast slain me,
  • and my name is Uwaine les Avoutres, that sometime was son unto King
  • Uriens, and was in the quest of the Sangreal; and now forgive it thee
  • God, for it shall ever be said that the one sworn brother hath slain
  • the other.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Gawaine and Sir Ector came to an hermitage to be
  • confessed, and how they told to the hermit their advisions.
  • Alas, said Gawaine, that ever this misadventure is befallen me. No
  • force, said Uwaine, sith I shall die this death, of a much more
  • worshipfuller man’s hand might I not die; but when ye come to the court
  • recommend me unto my lord, King Arthur, and all those that be left
  • alive, and for old brotherhood think on me. Then began Gawaine to weep,
  • and Ector also. And then Uwaine himself and Sir Gawaine drew out the
  • truncheon of the spear, and anon departed the soul from the body. Then
  • Sir Gawaine and Sir Ector buried him as men ought to bury a king’s son,
  • and made write upon his name, and by whom he was slain.
  • Then departed Gawaine and Ector, as heavy as they might for their
  • misadventure, and so rode till that they came to the rough mountain,
  • and there they tied their horses and went on foot to the hermitage. And
  • when they were come up they saw a poor house, and beside the chapel a
  • little courtelage, where Nacien the hermit gathered worts, as he which
  • had tasted none other meat of a great while. And when he saw the errant
  • knights he came toward them and saluted them, and they him again. Fair
  • lords, said he, what adventure brought you hither? Sir, said Gawaine,
  • to speak with you for to be confessed. Sir, said the hermit, I am
  • ready. Then they told him so much that he wist well what they were. And
  • then he thought to counsel them if he might.
  • Then began Gawaine first and told him of his advision that he had had
  • in the chapel, and Ector told him all as it is afore rehearsed. Sir,
  • said the hermit unto Sir Gawaine, the fair meadow and the rack therein
  • ought to be understood the Round Table, and by the meadow ought to be
  • understood humility and patience, those be the things which be always
  • green and quick; for men may no time overcome humility and patience,
  • therefore was the Round Table founded, and the chivalry hath been at
  • all times so by the fraternity which was there that she might not be
  • overcome; for men said she was founded in patience and in humility. At
  • the rack ate an hundred and fifty bulls; but they ate not in the
  • meadow, for their hearts should be set in humility and patience, and
  • the bulls were proud and black save only three. By the bulls is to
  • understand the fellowship of the Round Table, which for their sin and
  • their wickedness be black. Blackness is to say without good or virtuous
  • works. And the three bulls which were white save only one that was
  • spotted: the two white betoken Sir Galahad and Sir Percivale, for they
  • be maidens clean and without spot; and the third that had a spot
  • signifieth Sir Bors de Ganis, which trespassed but once in his
  • virginity, but sithen he kept himself so well in chastity that all is
  • forgiven him and his misdeeds. And why those three were tied by the
  • necks, they be three knights in virginity and chastity, and there is no
  • pride smitten in them. And the black bulls which said: Go we hence,
  • they were those which at Pentecost at the high feast took upon them to
  • go in the quest of the Sangreal without confession: they might not
  • enter in the meadow of humility and patience. And therefore they
  • returned into waste countries, that signifieth death, for there shall
  • die many of them: everych of them shall slay other for sin, and they
  • that shall escape shall be so lean that it shall be marvel to see them.
  • And of the three bulls without spot, the one shall come again, and the
  • other two never.
  • CHAPTER IV. How the hermit expounded their advision.
  • Then spake Nacien unto Ector: Sooth it is that Launcelot and ye came
  • down off one chair: the chair betokeneth mastership and lordship which
  • ye came down from. But ye two knights, said the hermit, ye go to seek
  • that ye shall never find, that is the Sangreal; for it is the secret
  • thing of our Lord Jesu Christ. What is to mean that Sir Launcelot fell
  • down off his horse: he hath left pride and taken him to humility, for
  • he hath cried mercy loud for his sin, and sore repented him, and our
  • Lord hath clothed him in his clothing which is full of knots, that is
  • the hair that he weareth daily. And the ass that he rode upon is a
  • beast of humility, for God would not ride upon no steed, nor upon no
  • palfrey; so in ensample that an ass betokeneth meekness, that thou
  • sawest Sir Launcelot ride on in thy sleep. And the well whereas the
  • water sank from him when he should have taken thereof, and when he saw
  • he might not have it, he returned thither from whence he came, for the
  • well betokeneth the high grace of God, the more men desire it to take
  • it, the more shall be their desire. So when he came nigh the Sangreal,
  • he meeked him that he held him not a man worthy to be so nigh the Holy
  • Vessel, for he had been so defouled in deadly sin by the space of many
  • years; yet when he kneeled to drink of the well, there he saw great
  • providence of the Sangreal. And for he had served so long the devil, he
  • shall have vengeance four-and-twenty days long, for that he hath been
  • the devil’s servant four-and-twenty years. And then soon after he shall
  • return unto Camelot out of this country, and he shall say a part of
  • such things as he hath found.
  • Now will I tell you what betokeneth the hand with the candle and the
  • bridle: that is to understand the Holy Ghost where charity is ever, and
  • the bridle signifieth abstinence. For when she is bridled in Christian
  • man’s heart she holdeth him so short that he falleth not in deadly sin.
  • And the candle which sheweth clearness and sight signifieth the right
  • way of Jesu Christ. And when he went and said: Knights of poor faith
  • and of wicked belief, these three things failed, charity, abstinence,
  • and truth; therefore ye may not attain that high adventure of the
  • Sangreal.
  • CHAPTER V. Of the good counsel that the hermit gave to them.
  • Certes, said Gawaine, soothly have ye said, that I see it openly. Now,
  • I pray you, good man and holy father, tell me why we met not with so
  • many adventures as we were wont to do, and commonly have the better. I
  • shall tell you gladly, said the good man; the adventure of the Sangreal
  • which ye and many other have undertaken the quest of it and find it
  • not, the cause is for it appeareth not to sinners. Wherefore marvel not
  • though ye fail thereof, and many other. For ye be an untrue knight and
  • a great murderer, and to good men signifieth other things than murder.
  • For I dare say, as sinful as Sir Launcelot hath been, sith that he went
  • into the quest of the Sangreal he slew never man, nor nought shall,
  • till that he come unto Camelot again, for he hath taken upon him for to
  • forsake sin. And nere that he nis not stable, but by his thought he is
  • likely to turn again, he should be next to enchieve it save Galahad,
  • his son. But God knoweth his thought and his unstableness, and yet
  • shall he die right an holy man, and no doubt he hath no fellow of no
  • earthly sinful man. Sir, said Gawaine, it seemeth me by your words that
  • for our sins it will not avail us to travel in this quest Truly, said
  • the good man, there be an hundred such as ye be that never shall
  • prevail, but to have shame. And when they had heard these voices they
  • commended him unto God.
  • Then the good man called Gawaine, and said: It is long time passed sith
  • that ye were made knight, and never sithen thou servedst thy Maker, and
  • now thou art so old a tree that in thee is neither life nor fruit;
  • wherefore bethink thee that thou yield to Our Lord the bare rind, sith
  • the fiend hath the leaves and the fruit. Sir, said Gawaine an I had
  • leisure I would speak with you, but my fellow here, Sir Ector, is gone,
  • and abideth me yonder beneath the hill. Well, said the good man, thou
  • were better to be counselled. Then departed Gawaine and came to Ector,
  • and so took their horses and rode till they came to a forester’s house,
  • which harboured them right well. And on the morn they departed from
  • their host, and rode long or they could find any adventure.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Sir Bors met with an hermit, and how he was confessed
  • to him, and of his penance enjoined to him.
  • When Bors was departed from Camelot he met with a religious man riding
  • on an ass, and Sir Bors saluted him. Anon the good man knew him that he
  • was one of the knights-errant that was in the quest of the Sangreal.
  • What are ye? said the good man. Sir, said he, I am a knight that fain
  • would be counselled in the quest of the Sangreal, for he shall have
  • much earthly worship that may bring it to an end. Certes, said the good
  • man, that is sooth, for he shall be the best knight of the world, and
  • the fairest of all the fellowship. But wit you well there shall none
  • attain it but by cleanness, that is pure confession.
  • So rode they together till that they came to an hermitage. And there he
  • prayed Bors to dwell all that night with him. And so he alighted and
  • put away his armour, and prayed him that he might be confessed; and so
  • they went into the chapel, and there he was clean confessed, and they
  • ate bread and drank water together. Now, said the good man, I pray thee
  • that thou eat none other till that thou sit at the table where the
  • Sangreal shall be. Sir, said he, I agree me thereto, but how wit ye
  • that I shall sit there. Yes, said the good man, that know I, but there
  • shall be but few of your fellows with you. All is welcome, said Sir
  • Bors, that God sendeth me. Also, said the good man, instead of a shirt,
  • and in sign of chastisement, ye shall wear a garment; therefore I pray
  • you do off all your clothes and your shirt: and so he did. And then he
  • took him a scarlet coat, so that should be instead of his shirt till he
  • had fulfilled the quest of the Sangreal; and the good man found in him
  • so marvellous a life and so stable, that he marvelled and felt that he
  • was never corrupt in fleshly lusts, but in one time that he begat Elian
  • le Blank.
  • Then he armed him, and took his leave, and so departed. And so a little
  • from thence he looked up into a tree, and there he saw a passing great
  • bird upon an old tree, and it was passing dry, without leaves; and the
  • bird sat above, and had birds, the which were dead for hunger. So smote
  • he himself with his beak, the which was great and sharp. And so the
  • great bird bled till that he died among his birds. And the young birds
  • took the life by the blood of the great bird. When Bors saw this he
  • wist well it was a great tokening; for when he saw the great bird arose
  • not, then he took his horse and yede his way. So by evensong, by
  • adventure he came to a strong tower and an high, and there was he
  • lodged gladly.
  • CHAPTER VII. How Sir Bors was lodged with a lady, and how he took upon
  • him for to fight against a champion for her land.
  • And when he was unarmed they led him into an high tower where was a
  • lady, young, lusty, and fair. And she received him with great joy, and
  • made him to sit down by her, and so was he set to sup with flesh and
  • many dainties. And when Sir Bors saw that, he bethought him on his
  • penance, and bade a squire to bring him water. And so he brought him,
  • and he made sops therein and ate them. Ah, said the lady, I trow ye
  • like not my meat. Yes, truly, said Sir Bors, God thank you, madam, but
  • I may eat none other meat this day. Then she spake no more as at that
  • time, for she was loath to displease him. Then after supper they spake
  • of one thing and other.
  • With that came a squire and said: Madam, ye must purvey you to-morn for
  • a champion, for else your sister will have this castle and also your
  • lands, except ye can find a knight that will fight to-morn in your
  • quarrel against Pridam le Noire. Then she made sorrow and said: Ah,
  • Lord God, wherefore granted ye to hold my land, whereof I should now be
  • disherited without reason and right? And when Sir Bors had heard her
  • say thus, he said: I shall comfort you. Sir, said she, I shall tell you
  • there was here a king that hight Aniause, which held all this land in
  • his keeping. So it mishapped he loved a gentlewoman a great deal elder
  • than I. So took he her all this land to her keeping, and all his men to
  • govern; and she brought up many evil customs whereby she put to death a
  • great part of his kinsmen. And when he saw that, he let chase her out
  • of this land, and betook it me, and all this land in my demesnes. But
  • anon as that worthy king was dead, this other lady began to war upon
  • me, and hath destroyed many of my men, and turned them against me, that
  • I have well-nigh no man left me; and I have nought else but this high
  • tower that she left me. And yet she hath promised me to have this
  • tower, without I can find a knight to fight with her champion.
  • Now tell me, said Sir Bors, what is that Pridam le Noire? Sir, said
  • she, he is the most doubted man of this land. Now may ye send her word
  • that ye have found a knight that shall fight with that Pridam le Noire
  • in God’s quarrel and yours. Then that lady was not a little glad, and
  • sent word that she was purveyed, and that night Bors had good cheer;
  • but in no bed he would come, but laid him on the floor, nor never would
  • do otherwise till that he had met with the quest of the Sangreal.
  • CHAPTER VIII. Of an advision which Sir Bors had that night, and how he
  • fought and overcame his adversary.
  • And anon as he was asleep him befell a vision, that there came to him
  • two birds, the one as white as a swan, and the other was marvellous
  • black; but it was not so great as the other, but in the likeness of a
  • Raven. Then the white bird came to him, and said: An thou wouldst give
  • me meat and serve me I should give thee all the riches of the world,
  • and I shall make thee as fair and as white as I am. So the white bird
  • departed, and there came the black bird to him, and said: An thou wolt,
  • serve me to-morrow and have me in no despite though I be black, for wit
  • thou well that more availeth my blackness than the other’s whiteness.
  • And then he departed.
  • And he had another vision: him thought that he came to a great place
  • which seemed a chapel, and there he found a chair set on the left side,
  • which was worm-eaten and feeble. And on the right hand were two flowers
  • like a lily, and the one would have benome the other’s whiteness, but a
  • good man departed them that the one touched not the other; and then out
  • of every flower came out many flowers, and fruit great plenty. Then him
  • thought the good man said: Should not he do great folly that would let
  • these two flowers perish for to succour the rotten tree, that it fell
  • not to the earth? Sir, said he, it seemeth me that this wood might not
  • avail. Now keep thee, said the good man, that thou never see such
  • adventure befall thee.
  • Then he awaked and made a sign of the cross in midst of the forehead,
  • and so rose and clothed him. And there came the lady of the place, and
  • she saluted him, and he her again, and so went to a chapel and heard
  • their service. And there came a company of knights, that the lady had
  • sent for, to lead Sir Bors unto battle. Then asked he his arms. And
  • when he was armed she prayed him to take a little morsel to dine. Nay,
  • madam, said he, that shall I not do till I have done my battle, by the
  • grace of God. And so he leapt upon his horse, and departed, all the
  • knights and men with him. And as soon as these two ladies met together,
  • she which Bors should fight for complained her, and said: Madam, ye
  • have done me wrong to bereave me of my lands that King Aniause gave me,
  • and full loath I am there should be any battle. Ye shall not choose,
  • said the other lady, or else your knight withdraw him.
  • Then there was the cry made, which party had the better of the two
  • knights, that his lady should rejoice all the land. Now departed the
  • one knight here, and the other there. Then they came together with such
  • a raundon that they pierced their shields and their hauberks, and the
  • spears flew in pieces, and they wounded either other sore. Then hurtled
  • they together, so that they fell both to the earth, and their horses
  • betwixt their legs; and anon they arose, and set hands to their swords,
  • and smote each one other upon the heads, that they made great wounds
  • and deep, that the blood went out of their bodies. For there found Sir
  • Bors greater defence in that knight more than he weened. For that
  • Pridam was a passing good knight, and he wounded Sir Bors full evil,
  • and he him again; but ever this Pridam held the stour in like hard.
  • That perceived Sir Bors, and suffered him till he was nigh attaint. And
  • then he ran upon him more and more, and the other went back for dread
  • of death. So in his withdrawing he fell upright, and Sir Bors drew his
  • helm so strongly that he rent it from his head, and gave him great
  • strokes with the flat of his sword upon the visage, and bade him yield
  • him or he should slay him. Then he cried him mercy and said: Fair
  • knight, for God’s love slay me not, and I shall ensure thee never to
  • war against thy lady, but be alway toward her. Then Bors let him be;
  • then the old lady fled with all her knights.
  • CHAPTER IX. How the lady was returned to her lands by the battle of Sir
  • Bors, and of his departing, and how he met Sir Lionel taken and beaten
  • with thorns, and also of a maid which should have been devoured.
  • So then came Bors to all those that held lands of his lady, and said he
  • should destroy them but if they did such service unto her as longed to
  • their lands. So they did their homage, and they that would not were
  • chased out of their lands. Then befell that young lady to come to her
  • estate again, by the mighty prowess of Sir Bors de Ganis. So when all
  • the country was well set in peace, then Sir Bors took his leave and
  • departed; and she thanked him greatly, and would have given him great
  • riches, but he refused it.
  • Then he rode all that day till night, and came to an harbour to a lady
  • which knew him well enough, and made of him great Joy. Upon the morn,
  • as soon as the day appeared, Bors departed from thence, and so rode
  • into a forest unto the hour of midday, and there befell him a
  • marvellous adventure. So he met at the departing of the two ways two
  • knights that led Lionel, his brother, all naked, bounden upon a strong
  • hackney, and his hands bounden to-fore his breast. And everych of them
  • held in his hands thorns wherewith they went beating him so sore that
  • the blood trailed down more than in an hundred places of his body, so
  • that he was all blood to-fore and behind, but he said never a word; as
  • he which was great of heart he suffered all that ever they did to him,
  • as though he had felt none anguish.
  • Anon Sir Bors dressed him to rescue him that was his brother; and so he
  • looked upon the other side of him, and saw a knight which brought a
  • fair gentlewoman, and would have set her in the thickest place of the
  • forest for to have been the more surer out of the way from them that
  • sought him. And she which was nothing assured cried with an high voice:
  • Saint Mary succour your maid. And anon she espied where Sir Bors came
  • riding. And when she came nigh him she deemed him a knight of the Round
  • Table, whereof she hoped to have some comfort; and then she conjured
  • him: By the faith that he ought unto Him in whose service thou art
  • entered in, and for the faith ye owe unto the high order of knighthood,
  • and for the noble King Arthur’s sake, that I suppose made thee knight,
  • that thou help me, and suffer me not to be shamed of this knight. When
  • Bors heard her say thus he had so much sorrow there he nist not what to
  • do. For if I let my brother be in adventure he must be slain, and that
  • would I not for all the earth. And if I help not the maid she is shamed
  • for ever, and also she shall lose her virginity the which she shall
  • never get again. Then lift he up his eyes and said weeping: Fair sweet
  • Lord Jesu Christ, whose liege man I am, keep Lionel, my brother, that
  • these knights slay him not, and for pity of you, and for Mary’s sake, I
  • shall succour this maid.
  • CHAPTER X. How Sir Bors left to rescue his brother, and rescued the
  • damosel; and how it was told him that Lionel was dead.
  • Then dressed he him unto the knight the which had the gentlewoman, and
  • then he cried: Sir knight, let your hand off that maiden, or ye be but
  • dead. And then he set down the maiden, and was armed at all pieces save
  • he lacked his spear. Then he dressed his shield, and drew out his
  • sword, and Bors smote him so hard that it went through his shield and
  • habergeon on the left shoulder. And through great strength he beat him
  • down to the earth, and at the pulling out of Bors’ spear there he
  • swooned. Then came Bors to the maid and said: How seemeth it you? of
  • this knight ye be delivered at this time. Now sir, said she, I pray you
  • lead me thereas this knight had me. So shall I do gladly: and took the
  • horse of the wounded knight, and set the gentlewoman upon him, and so
  • brought her as she desired. Sir knight, said she, ye have better sped
  • than ye weened, for an I had lost my maidenhead, five hundred men
  • should have died for it. What knight was he that had you in the forest?
  • By my faith, said she, he is my cousin. So wot I never with what engine
  • the fiend enchafed him, for yesterday he took me from my father
  • privily; for I, nor none of my father’s men, mistrusted him not, and if
  • he had had my maidenhead he should have died for the sin, and his body
  • shamed and dishonoured for ever. Thus as she stood talking with him
  • there came twelve knights seeking after her, and anon she told them all
  • how Bors had delivered her; then they made great joy, and besought him
  • to come to her father, a great lord, and he should be right welcome.
  • Truly, said Bors, that may not be at this time, for I have a great
  • adventure to do in this country. So he commended them unto God and
  • departed.
  • Then Sir Bors rode after Lionel, his brother, by the trace of their
  • horses, thus he rode seeking a great while. Then he overtook a man
  • clothed in a religious clothing; and rode on a strong black horse
  • blacker than a berry, and said: Sir knight, what seek you? Sir, said
  • he, I seek my brother that I saw within a while beaten with two
  • knights. Ah, Bors, discomfort you not, nor fall into no wanhope; for I
  • shall tell you tidings such as they be, for truly he is dead. Then
  • showed he him a new slain body lying in a bush, and it seemed him well
  • that it was the body of Lionel, and then he made such a sorrow that he
  • fell to the earth all in a swoon, and lay a great while there. And when
  • he came to himself he said: Fair brother, sith the company of you and
  • me is departed shall I never have joy in my heart, and now He which I
  • have taken unto my master, He be my help. And when he had said thus he
  • took his body lightly in his arms, and put it upon the arson of his
  • saddle. And then he said to the man: Canst thou tell me unto some
  • chapel where that I may bury this body? Come on, said he, here is one
  • fast by; and so long they rode till they saw a fair tower, and afore it
  • there seemed an old feeble chapel. And then they alighted both, and put
  • him into a tomb of marble.
  • CHAPTER XI. How Sir Bors told his dream to a priest, which he had
  • dreamed, and of the counsel that the priest gave to him.
  • Now leave we him here, said the good man, and go we to our harbour till
  • to-morrow; we will come here again to do him service. Sir, said Bors,
  • be ye a priest? Yea forsooth, said he. Then I pray you tell me a dream
  • that befell to me the last night. Say on, said he. Then he began so
  • much to tell him of the great bird in the forest, and after told him of
  • his birds, one white, another black, and of the rotten tree, and of the
  • white flowers. Sir, I shall tell you a part now, and the other deal
  • to-morrow. The white fowl betokeneth a gentlewoman, fair and rich,
  • which loved thee paramours, and hath loved thee long; and if thou warn
  • her love she shall go die anon, if thou have no pity on her. That
  • signifieth the great bird, the which shall make thee to warn her. Now
  • for no fear that thou hast, ne for no dread that thou hast of God, thou
  • shalt not warn her, but thou wouldst not do it for to be holden chaste,
  • for to conquer the loos of the vain glory of the world; for that shall
  • befall thee now an thou warn her, that Launcelot, the good knight, thy
  • cousin, shall die. And therefore men shall now say that thou art a
  • manslayer, both of thy brother, Sir Lionel, and of thy cousin, Sir
  • Launcelot du Lake, the which thou mightest have saved and rescued
  • easily, but thou weenedst to rescue a maid which pertaineth nothing to
  • thee. Now look thou whether it had been greater harm of thy brother’s
  • death, or else to have suffered her to have lost her maidenhood. Then
  • asked he him: Hast thou heard the tokens of thy dream the which I have
  • told to you? Yea forsooth, said Sir Bors, all your exposition and
  • declaring of my dream I have well understood and heard. Then said the
  • man in this black clothing: Then is it in thy default if Sir Launcelot,
  • thy cousin, die. Sir, said Bors, that were me loath, for wit ye well
  • there is nothing in the world but I had liefer do it than to see my
  • lord, Sir Launcelot du Lake, to die in my default. Choose ye now the
  • one or the other, said the good man.
  • And then he led Sir Bors into an high tower, and there he found knights
  • and ladies: those ladies said he was welcome, and so they unarmed him.
  • And when he was in his doublet men brought him a mantle furred with
  • ermine, and put it about him; and then they made him such cheer that he
  • had forgotten all his sorrow and anguish, and only set his heart in
  • these delights and dainties, and took no thought more for his brother,
  • Sir Lionel, neither of Sir Launcelot du Lake, his cousin. And anon came
  • out of a chamber to him the fairest lady than ever he saw, and more
  • richer beseen than ever he saw Queen Guenever or any other estate. Lo,
  • said they, Sir Bors, here is the lady unto whom we owe all our service,
  • and I trow she be the richest lady and the fairest of all the world,
  • and the which loveth you best above all other knights, for she will
  • have no knight but you. And when he understood that language he was
  • abashed. Not for then she saluted him, and he her; and then they sat
  • down together and spake of many things, in so much that she besought
  • him to be her love, for she had loved him above all earthly men, and
  • she should make him richer than ever was man of his age. When Bors
  • understood her words he was right evil at ease, which in no manner
  • would not break chastity, so wist not he how to answer her.
  • CHAPTER XII. How the devil in a woman’s likeness would have had Sir
  • Bors to have lain by her, and how by God’s grace he escaped.
  • Alas, said she, Bors, shall ye not do my will? Madam, said Bors, there
  • is no lady in the world whose will I will fulfil as of this thing, for
  • my brother lieth dead which was slain right late. Ah Bors, said she, I
  • have loved you long for the great beauty I have seen in you, and the
  • great hardiness that I have heard of you, that needs ye must lie by me
  • this night, and therefore I pray you grant it me. Truly, said he, I
  • shall not do it in no manner wise. Then she made him such sorrow as
  • though she would have died. Well Bors, said she, unto this have ye
  • brought me, nigh to mine end. And therewith she took him by the hand,
  • and bade him behold her. And ye shall see how I shall die for your
  • love. Ah, said then he, that shall I never see.
  • Then she departed and went up into an high battlement, and led with her
  • twelve gentlewomen; and when they were above, one of the gentlewomen
  • cried, and said: Ah, Sir Bors, gentle knight have mercy on us all, and
  • suffer my lady to have her will, and if ye do not we must suffer death
  • with our lady, for to fall down off this high tower, and if ye suffer
  • us thus to die for so little a thing all ladies and gentlewomen will
  • say or you dishonour. Then looked he upward, they seemed all ladies of
  • great estate, and richly and well beseen. Then had he of them great
  • pity; not for that he was uncounselled in himself that liefer he had
  • they all had lost their souls than he his, and with that they fell
  • adown all at once unto the earth. And when he saw that, he was all
  • abashed, and had thereof great marvel. With that he blessed his body
  • and his visage. And anon he heard a great noise and a great cry, as
  • though all the fiends of hell had been about him; and therewith he saw
  • neither tower, nor lady, nor gentlewoman, nor no chapel where he
  • brought his brother to. Then held he up both his hands to the heaven,
  • and said: Fair Father God, I am grievously escaped; and then he took
  • his arms and his horse and rode on his way.
  • Then he heard a clock smite on his right hand; and thither he came to
  • an abbey on his right hand, closed with high walls, and there was let
  • in. Then they supposed that he was one of the quest of the Sangreal, so
  • they led him into a chamber and unarmed him. Sirs, said Sir Bors, if
  • there be any holy man in this house I pray you let me speak with him.
  • Then one of them led him unto the Abbot, which was in a chapel. And
  • then Sir Bors saluted him, and he him again. Sir, said Bors, I am a
  • knight-errant; and told him all the adventure which he had seen. Sir
  • Knight, said the Abbot, I wot not what ye be, for I weened never that a
  • knight of your age might have been so strong in the grace of our Lord
  • Jesu Christ. Not for then ye shall go unto your rest, for I will not
  • counsel you this day, it is too late, and to-morrow I shall counsel you
  • as I can.
  • CHAPTER XIII. Of the holy communication of an Abbot to Sir Bors, and
  • how the Abbot counselled him.
  • And that night was Sir Bors served richly; and on the morn early he
  • heard mass, and the Abbot came to him, and bade him good morrow, and
  • Bors to him again. And then he told him he was a fellow of the quest of
  • the Sangreal, and how he had charge of the holy man to eat bread and
  • water. Then [said the Abbot]: Our Lord Jesu Christ showed him unto you
  • in the likeness of a soul that suffered great anguish for us, since He
  • was put upon the cross, and bled His heart-blood for mankind: there was
  • the token and the likeness of the Sangreal that appeared afore you, for
  • the blood that the great fowl bled revived the chickens from death to
  • life. And by the bare tree is betokened the world which is naked and
  • without fruit but if it come of Our Lord. Also the lady for whom ye
  • fought for, and King Aniause which was lord there-to-fore, betokeneth
  • Jesu Christ which is the King of the world. And that ye fought with the
  • champion for the lady, this it betokeneth: for when ye took the battle
  • for the lady, by her shall ye understand the new law of Jesu Christ and
  • Holy Church; and by the other lady ye shall understand the old law and
  • the fiend, which all day warreth against Holy Church, therefore ye did
  • your battle with right. For ye be Jesu Christ’s knights, therefore ye
  • ought to be defenders of Holy Church. And by the black bird might ye
  • understand Holy Church, which sayeth I am black, but he is fair. And by
  • the white bird might men understand the fiend, and I shall tell you how
  • the swan is white without-forth, and black within: it is hypocrisy
  • which is without yellow or pale, and seemeth without-forth the servants
  • of Jesu Christ, but they be within so horrible of filth and sin, and
  • beguile the world evil. Also when the fiend appeared to thee in
  • likeness of a man of religion, and blamed thee that thou left thy
  • brother for a lady, so led thee where thou seemed thy brother was
  • slain, but he is yet alive; and all was for to put thee in error, and
  • bring thee unto wanhope and lechery, for he knew thou were tender
  • hearted, and all was for thou shouldst not find the blessed adventure
  • of the Sangreal. And the third fowl betokeneth the strong battle
  • against the fair ladies which were all devils. Also the dry tree and
  • the white lily: the dry tree betokeneth thy brother Lionel, which is
  • dry without virtue, and therefore many men ought to call him the rotten
  • tree, and the worm-eaten tree, for he is a murderer and doth contrary
  • to the order of knighthood. And the two white flowers signify two
  • maidens, the one is a knight which was wounded the other day, and the
  • other is the gentlewoman which ye rescued; and why the other flower
  • drew nigh the other, that was the knight which would have defouled her
  • and himself both. And Sir Bors, ye had been a great fool and in great
  • peril for to have seen those two flowers perish for to succour the
  • rotten tree, for an they had sinned together they had been damned; and
  • for that ye rescued them both, men might call you a very knight and
  • servant of Jesu Christ.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How Sir Bors met with his brother Sir Lionel, and how Sir
  • Lionel would have slain Sir Bors.
  • Then went Sir Bors from thence and commended the Abbot unto God. And
  • then he rode all that day, and harboured with an old lady. And on the
  • morn he rode to a castle in a valley, and there he met with a yeoman
  • going a great pace toward a forest. Say me, said Sir Bors, canst thou
  • tell me of any adventure? Sir, said he, here shall be under this castle
  • a great and a marvellous tournament. Of what folks shall it be? said
  • Sir Bors. The Earl of Plains shall be in the one party, and the lady’s
  • nephew of Hervin on the other party. Then Bors thought to be there if
  • he might meet with his brother Sir Lionel, or any other of his
  • fellowship, which were in the quest of the Sangreal. And then he turned
  • to an hermitage that was in the entry of the forest.
  • And when he was come thither he found there Sir Lionel, his brother,
  • which sat all armed at the entry of the chapel door for to abide there
  • harbour till on the morn that the tournament shall be. And when Sir
  • Bors saw him he had great joy of him, that it were marvel to tell of
  • his joy. And then he alighted off his horse, and said: Fair sweet
  • brother, when came ye hither? Anon as Lionel saw him he said: Ah Bors,
  • ye may not make none avaunt, but as for you I might have been slain;
  • when ye saw two knights leading me away beating me, ye left me for to
  • succour a gentlewoman, and suffered me in peril of death; for never
  • erst ne did no brother to another so great an untruth. And for that
  • misdeed now I ensure you but death, for well have ye deserved it;
  • therefore keep thee from henceforward, and that shall ye find as soon
  • as I am armed. When Sir Bors understood his brother’s wrath he kneeled
  • down to the earth and cried him mercy, holding up both his hands, and
  • prayed him to forgive him his evil will. Nay, said Lionel, that shall
  • never be an I may have the higher hand, that I make mine avow to God,
  • thou shalt have death for it, for it were pity ye lived any longer.
  • Right so he went in and took his harness, and mounted upon his horse,
  • and came to-fore him and said: Bors, keep thee from me, for I shall do
  • to thee as I would to a felon or a traitor, for ye be the untruest
  • knight that ever came out of so worthy an house as was King Bors de
  • Ganis which was our father, therefore start upon thy horse, and so
  • shall ye be most at your advantage. And but if ye will I will run upon
  • you thereas ye stand upon foot, and so the shame shall be mine and the
  • harm yours, but of that shame ne reck I nought.
  • When Sir Bors saw that he must fight with his brother or else to die,
  • he nist what to do; then his heart counselled him not thereto, inasmuch
  • as Lionel was born or he, wherefore he ought to bear him reverence; yet
  • kneeled he down afore Lionel’s horse’s feet, and said: Fair sweet
  • brother, have mercy upon me and slay me not, and have in remembrance
  • the great love which ought to be between us twain. What Sir Bors said
  • to Lionel he rought not, for the fiend had brought him in such a will
  • that he should slay him. Then when Lionel saw he would none other, and
  • that he would not have risen to give him battle, he rashed over him so
  • that he smote Bors with his horse, feet upward, to the earth, and hurt
  • him so sore that he swooned of distress, the which he felt in himself
  • to have died without confession. So when Lionel saw this, he alighted
  • off his horse to have smitten off his head. And so he took him by the
  • helm, and would have rent it from his head. Then came the hermit
  • running unto him, which was a good man and of great age, and well had
  • heard all the words that were between them, and so fell down upon Sir
  • Bors.
  • CHAPTER XV. How Sir Colgrevance fought against Sir Lionel for to save
  • Sir Bors, and how the hermit was slain.
  • Then he said to Lionel: Ah gentle knight, have mercy upon me and on thy
  • brother, for if thou slay him thou shalt be dead of sin, and that were
  • sorrowful, for he is one of the worthiest knights of the world, and of
  • the best conditions. So God help me, said Lionel, sir priest, but if ye
  • flee from him I shall slay you, and he shall never the sooner be quit.
  • Certes, said the good man, I have liefer ye slay me than him, for my
  • death shall not be great harm, not half so much as of his. Well, said
  • Lionel, I am greed; and set his hand to his sword and smote him so hard
  • that his head yede backward. Not for that he restrained him of his evil
  • will, but took his brother by the helm, and unlaced it to have stricken
  • off his head, and had slain him without fail. But so it happed,
  • Colgrevance a fellow of the Round Table, came at that time thither as
  • Our Lord’s will was. And when he saw the good man slain he marvelled
  • much what it might be. And then he beheld Lionel would have slain his
  • brother, and knew Sir Bors which he loved right well. Then stert he
  • down and took Lionel by the shoulders, and drew him strongly aback from
  • Bors, and said: Lionel, will ye slay your brother, the worthiest knight
  • of the world one? and that should no good man suffer. Why, said Lionel,
  • will ye let me? therefore if ye entermete you in this I shall slay you,
  • and him after. Why, said Colgrevance, is this sooth that ye will slay
  • him? Slay him will I, said he, whoso say the contrary, for he hath done
  • so much against me that he hath well deserved it. And so ran upon him,
  • and would have smitten him through the head, and Sir Colgrevance ran
  • betwixt them, and said: An ye be so hardy to do so more, we two shall
  • meddle together.
  • When Lionel understood his words he took his shield afore him, and
  • asked him what that he was. And he told him, Colgrevance, one of his
  • fellows. Then Lionel defied him, and gave him a great stroke through
  • the helm. Then he drew his sword, for he was a passing good knight, and
  • defended him right manfully. So long dured the battle that Bors rose up
  • all anguishly, and beheld [how] Colgrevance, the good knight, fought
  • with his brother for his quarrel; then was he full sorry and heavy, and
  • thought if Colgrevance slew him that was his brother he should never
  • have joy; and if his brother slew Colgrevance the shame should ever be
  • mine. Then would he have risen to have departed them, but he had not so
  • much might to stand on foot; so he abode him so long till Colgrevance
  • had the worse, for Lionel was of great chivalry and right hardy, for he
  • had pierced the hauberk and the helm, that he abode but death, for he
  • had lost much of his blood that it was marvel that he might stand
  • upright. Then beheld he Sir Bors which sat dressing him upward and
  • said: Ah, Bors, why come ye not to cast me out of peril of death,
  • wherein I have put me to succour you which were right now nigh the
  • death? Certes, said Lionel, that shall not avail you, for none of you
  • shall bear others warrant, but that ye shall die both of my hand. When
  • Bors heard that, he did so much, he rose and put on his helm. Then
  • perceived he first the hermit-priest which was slain, then made he a
  • marvellous sorrow upon him.
  • CHAPTER XVI. How Sir Lionel slew Sir Colgrevance, and how after he
  • would have slain Sir Bors.
  • Then oft Colgrevance cried upon Sir Bors: Why will ye let me die here
  • for your sake? if it please you that I die for you the death, it will
  • please me the better for to save a worthy man. With that word Sir
  • Lionel smote off the helm from his head. Then Colgrevance saw that he
  • might not escape; then he said: Fair sweet Jesu, that I have misdone
  • have mercy upon my soul, for such sorrow that my heart suffereth for
  • goodness, and for alms deed that I would have done here, be to me
  • aligement of penance unto my soul’s health. At these words Lionel smote
  • him so sore that he bare him to the earth. So he had slain Colgrevance
  • he ran upon his brother as a fiendly man, and gave him such a stroke
  • that he made him stoop. And he that was full of humility prayed him for
  • God’s love to leave this battle: For an it befell, fair brother, that I
  • slew you or ye me, we should be dead of that sin. Never God me help but
  • if I have on you mercy, an I may have the better hand. Then drew Bors
  • his sword, all weeping, and said: Fair brother, God knoweth mine
  • intent. Ah, fair brother, ye have done full evil this day to slay such
  • an holy priest the which never trespassed. Also ye have slain a gentle
  • knight, and one of our fellows. And well wot ye that I am not afeard of
  • you greatly, but I dread the wrath of God, and this is an unkindly war,
  • therefore God show miracle upon us both. Now God have mercy upon me
  • though I defend my life against my brother: with that Bors lift up his
  • hand and would have smitten his brother.
  • CHAPTER XVII. How there came a voice which charged Sir Bors to touch
  • him not, and of a cloud that came between them.
  • And then he heard a voice that said: Flee Bors, and touch him not, or
  • else thou shalt slay him. Right so alighted a cloud betwixt them in
  • likeness of a fire and a marvellous flame, that both their two shields
  • brent. Then were they sore afraid, that they fell both to the earth,
  • and lay there a great while in a swoon. And when they came to themself,
  • Bors saw that his brother had no harm; then he held up both his hands,
  • for he dread God had taken vengeance upon him. With that he heard a
  • voice say: Bors, go hence, and bear thy brother no longer fellowship,
  • but take thy way anon right to the sea, for Sir Percivale abideth thee
  • there. Then he said to his brother: Fair sweet brother, forgive me for
  • God’s love all that I have trespassed unto you. Then he answered: God
  • forgive it thee and I do gladly.
  • So Sir Bors departed from him and rode the next way to the sea. And at
  • the last by fortune he came to an abbey which was nigh the sea. That
  • night Bors rested him there; and in his sleep there came a voice to him
  • and bade him go to the sea. Then he stert up and made a sign of the
  • cross in the midst of his forehead, and took his harness, and made
  • ready his horse, and mounted upon him; and at a broken wall he rode
  • out, and rode so long till that he came to the sea. And on the strand
  • he found a ship covered all with white samite, and he alighted, and
  • betook him to Jesu Christ. And as soon as he entered into the ship, the
  • ship departed into the sea, and went so fast that him seemed the ship
  • went flying, but it was soon dark so that he might know no man, and so
  • he slept till it was day. Then he awaked, and saw in midst of the ship
  • a knight lie all armed save his helm. Then knew he that it was Sir
  • Percivale of Wales, and then he made of him right great joy; but Sir
  • Percivale was abashed of him, and he asked him what he was. Ah, fair
  • sir, said Bors, know ye me not? Certes, said he, I marvel how ye came
  • hither, but if Our Lord brought ye hither Himself. Then Sir Bors smiled
  • and did off his helm. Then Percivale knew him, and either made great
  • joy of other, that it was marvel to hear. Then Bors told him how he
  • came into the ship, and by whose admonishment; and either told other of
  • their temptations, as ye have heard to-forehand. So went they downward
  • in the sea, one while backward, another while forward, and everych
  • comforted other, and oft were in their prayers. Then said Sir
  • Percivale: We lack nothing but Galahad, the good knight.
  • _And thus endeth the sixteenth book, which is of Sir Gawaine, Ector de
  • Maris, and Sir Bors de Ganis, and Sir Percivale. And here followeth the
  • seven-teenth book, which is of the noble knight Sir Galahad._
  • BOOK XVII.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Galahad fought at a tournament, and how he was known
  • of Sir Gawaine and Sir Ector de Maris.
  • Now saith this story, when Galahad had rescued Percivale from the
  • twenty knights, he yede tho into a waste forest wherein he rode many
  • journeys; and he found many adventures the which he brought to an end,
  • whereof the story maketh here no mention. Then he took his way to the
  • sea on a day, and it befell as he passed by a castle where was a wonder
  • tournament, but they without had done so much that they within were put
  • to the worse, yet were they within good knights enough. When Galahad
  • saw that those within were at so great a mischief that men slew them at
  • the entry of the castle, then he thought to help them, and put a spear
  • forth and smote the first that he fell to the earth, and the spear
  • brake to pieces. Then he drew his sword and smote thereas they were
  • thickest, and so he did wonderful deeds of arms that all they
  • marvelled. Then it happed that Gawaine and Sir Ector de Maris were with
  • the knights without. But when they espied the white shield with the red
  • cross the one said to the other: Yonder is the good knight, Sir
  • Galahad, the haut prince: now he should be a great fool which should
  • meet with him to fight. So by adventure he came by Sir Gawaine, and he
  • smote him so hard that he clave his helm and the coif of iron unto his
  • head, so that Gawaine fell to the earth; but the stroke was so great
  • that it slanted down to the earth and carved the horse’s shoulder in
  • two.
  • When Ector saw Gawaine down he drew him aside, and thought it no wisdom
  • for to abide him, and also for natural love, that he was his uncle.
  • Thus through his great hardiness he beat aback all the knights without.
  • And then they within came out and chased them all about. But when
  • Galahad saw there would none turn again he stole away privily, so that
  • none wist where he was become. Now by my head, said Gawaine to Ector,
  • now are the wonders true that were said of Launcelot du Lake, that the
  • sword which stuck in the stone should give me such a buffet that I
  • would not have it for the best castle in this world; and soothly now it
  • is proved true, for never ere had I such a stroke of man’s hand. Sir,
  • said Ector, meseemeth your quest is done. And yours is not done, said
  • Gawaine, but mine is done, I shall seek no further. Then Gawaine was
  • borne into a castle and unarmed him, and laid him in a rich bed, and a
  • leech found that he might live, and to be whole within a month. Thus
  • Gawaine and Ector abode together, for Sir Ector would not away till
  • Gawaine were whole.
  • And the good knight, Galahad, rode so long till he came that night to
  • the Castle of Carboneck; and it befell him thus that he was benighted
  • in an hermitage. So the good man was fain when he saw he was a
  • knight-errant. Tho when they were at rest there came a gentlewoman
  • knocking at the door, and called Galahad, and so the good man came to
  • the door to wit what she would. Then she called the hermit: Sir Ulfin,
  • I am a gentlewoman that would speak with the knight which is with you.
  • Then the good man awaked Galahad, and bade him: Arise, and speak with a
  • gentlewoman that seemeth hath great need of you. Then Galahad went to
  • her and asked her what she would. Galahad, said she, I will that ye arm
  • you, and mount upon your horse and follow me, for I shall show you
  • within these three days the highest adventure that ever any knight saw.
  • Anon Galahad armed him, and took his horse, and commended him to God,
  • and bade the gentlewoman go, and he would follow thereas she liked.
  • CHAPTER II. How Sir Galahad rode with a damosel, and came to the ship
  • whereas Sir Bors and Sir Percivale were in.
  • So she rode as fast as her palfrey might bear her, till that she came
  • to the sea, the which was called Collibe. And at the night they came
  • unto a castle in a valley, closed with a running water, and with strong
  • walls and high; and so she entered into the castle with Galahad, and
  • there had he great cheer, for the lady of that castle was the damosel’s
  • lady. So when he was unarmed, then said the damosel: Madam, shall we
  • abide here all this day? Nay, said she, but till he hath dined and till
  • he hath slept a little. So he ate and slept a while till that the maid
  • called him, and armed him by torchlight. And when the maid was horsed
  • and he both, the lady took Galahad a fair child and rich; and so they
  • departed from the castle till they came to the seaside; and there they
  • found the ship where Bors and Percivale were in, the which cried on the
  • ship’s board: Sir Galahad, ye be welcome, we have abiden you long. And
  • when he heard them he asked them what they were. Sir, said she, leave
  • your horse here, and I shall leave mine; and took their saddles and
  • their bridles with them, and made a cross on them, and so entered into
  • the ship. And the two knights received them both with great joy, and
  • everych knew other; and so the wind arose, and drove them through the
  • sea in a marvellous pace. And within a while it dawned.
  • Then did Galahad off his helm and his sword, and asked of his fellows
  • from whence came that fair ship. Truly, said they, ye wot as well as
  • we, but of God’s grace; and then they told everych to other of all
  • their hard adventures, and of their great temptations. Truly, said
  • Galahad, ye are much bounden to God, for ye have escaped great
  • adventures; and had not the gentlewoman been I had not come here, for
  • as for you I weened never to have found you in these strange countries.
  • Ah Galahad, said Bors, if Launcelot, your father, were here then were
  • we well at ease, for then meseemed we failed nothing. That may not be,
  • said Galahad, but if it pleased Our Lord.
  • By then the ship went from the land of Logris, and by adventure it
  • arrived up betwixt two rocks passing great and marvellous; but there
  • they might not land, for there was a swallow of the sea, save there was
  • another ship, and upon it they might go without danger. Go we thither,
  • said the gentlewoman, and there shall we see adventures, for so is Our
  • Lord’s will. And when they came thither they found the ship rich
  • enough, but they found neither man nor woman therein. But they found in
  • the end of the ship two fair letters written, which said a dreadful
  • word and a marvellous: Thou man, which shall enter into this ship,
  • beware thou be in steadfast belief, for I am Faith, and therefore
  • beware how thou enterest, for an thou fail I shall not help thee. Then
  • said the gentlewoman: Percivale, wot ye what I am? Certes, said he,
  • nay, to my witting. Wit ye well, said she, that I am thy sister, which
  • am daughter of King Pellinore, and therefore wit ye well ye are the man
  • in the world that I most love; and if ye be not in perfect belief of
  • Jesu Christ enter not in no manner of wise, for then should ye perish
  • the ship, for he is so perfect he will suffer no sinner in him. When
  • Percivale understood that she was his very sister he was inwardly glad,
  • and said: Fair sister, I shall enter therein, for if I be a miscreature
  • or an untrue knight there shall I perish.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Galahad entered into the ship, and of a fair bed
  • therein, with other marvellous things, and of a sword.
  • In the meanwhile Galahad blessed him, and entered therein; and then
  • next the gentlewoman, and then Sir Bors and Sir Percivale. And when
  • they were in, it was so marvellous fair and rich that they marvelled;
  • and in midst of the ship was a fair bed, and Galahad went thereto, and
  • found there a crown of silk. And at the feet was a sword, rich and
  • fair, and it was drawn out of the sheath half a foot and more; and the
  • sword was of divers fashions, and the pommel was of stone, and there
  • was in him all manner of colours that any man might find, and everych
  • of the colours had divers virtues; and the scales of the haft were of
  • two ribs of divers beasts, the one beast was a serpent which was
  • conversant in Calidone, and is called the Serpent of the fiend; and the
  • bone of him is of such a virtue that there is no hand that handleth him
  • shall never be weary nor hurt. And the other beast is a fish which is
  • not right great, and haunteth the flood of Euphrates; and that fish is
  • called Ertanax, and his bones be of such a manner of kind that who that
  • handleth them shall have so much will that he shall never be weary, and
  • he shall not think on joy nor sorrow that he hath had but only that
  • thing that he beholdeth before him. And as for this sword there shall
  • never man begrip him at the handles but one; but he shall pass all
  • other. In the name of God, said Percivale, I shall assay to handle it.
  • So he set his hand to the sword, but he might not begrip it. By my
  • faith, said he, now have I failed. Bors set his hand thereto and
  • failed.
  • Then Galahad beheld the sword and saw letters like blood that said: Let
  • see who shall assay to draw me out of my sheath, but if he be more
  • hardier than any other; and who that draweth me, wit ye well that he
  • shall never fail of shame of his body, or to be wounded to the death.
  • By my faith, said Galahad, I would draw this sword out of the sheath,
  • but the offending is so great that I shall not set my hand thereto. Now
  • sirs, said the gentlewoman, wit ye well that the drawing of this sword
  • is warned to all men save all only to you. Also this ship arrived in
  • the realm of Logris; and that time was deadly war between King Labor,
  • which was father unto the maimed king, and King Hurlame, which was a
  • Saracen. But then was he newly christened, so that men held him
  • afterward one of the wittiest men of the world. And so upon a day it
  • befell that King Labor and King Hurlame had assembled their folk upon
  • the sea where this ship was arrived; and there King Hurlame was
  • discomfit, and his men slain; and he was afeard to be dead, and fled to
  • his ship, and there found this sword and drew it, and came out and
  • found King Labor, the man in the world of all Christendom in whom was
  • then the greatest faith. And when King Hurlame saw King Labor he
  • dressed this sword, and smote him upon the helm so hard that he clave
  • him and his horse to the earth with the first stroke of his sword. And
  • it was in the realm of Logris; and so befell great pestilence and great
  • harm to both realms. For sithen increased neither corn, nor grass, nor
  • well-nigh no fruit, nor in the water was no fish; wherefore men call it
  • the lands of the two marches, the waste land, for that dolorous stroke.
  • And when King Hurlame saw this sword so carving, he turned again to
  • fetch the scabbard, and so came into this ship and entered, and put up
  • the sword in the sheath. And as soon as he had done it he fell down
  • dead afore the bed. Thus was the sword proved, that none ne drew it but
  • he were dead or maimed. So lay he there till a maiden came into the
  • ship and cast him out, for there was no man so hardy of the world to
  • enter into that ship for the defence.
  • CHAPTER IV. Of the marvels of the sword and of the scabbard.
  • And then beheld they the scabbard, it seemed to be of a serpent’s skin,
  • and thereon were letters of gold and silver. And the girdle was but
  • poorly to come to, and not able to sustain such a rich sword. And the
  • letters said: He which shall wield me sought to be more harder than any
  • other, if he bear me as truly as me ought to be borne. For the body of
  • him which I ought to hang by, he shall not be shamed in no place while
  • he is girt with this girdle, nor never none be so hardy to do away this
  • girdle; for it ought not be done away but by the hands of a maid, and
  • that she be a king’s daughter and queen’s, and she must be a maid all
  • the days of her life, both in will and in deed. And if she break her
  • virginity she shall die the most villainous death that ever died any
  • woman. Sir, said Percivale, turn this sword that we may see what is on
  • the other side. And it was red as blood, with black letters as any
  • coal, which said: He that shall praise me most, most shall he find me
  • to blame at a great need; and to whom I should be most debonair shall I
  • be most felon, and that shall be at one time.
  • Fair brother, said she to Percivale, it befell after a forty year after
  • the passion of Jesu Christ that Nacien, the brother-in-law of King
  • Mordrains, was borne into a town more than fourteen days’ journey from
  • his country, by the commandment of Our Lord, into an isle, into the
  • parts of the West, that men cleped the Isle of Turnance. So befell it
  • that he found this ship at the entry of a rock, and he found the bed
  • and this sword as we have heard now. Not for then he had not so much
  • hardiness to draw it; and there he dwelled an eight days, and at the
  • ninth day there fell a great wind which departed him out of the isle,
  • and brought him to another isle by a rock, and there he found the
  • greatest giant that ever man might see. Therewith came that horrible
  • giant to slay him; and then he looked about him and might not flee, and
  • he had nothing to defend him with. So he ran to his sword, and when he
  • saw it naked he praised it much, and then he shook it, and therewith he
  • brake it in the midst. Ah, said Nacien, the thing that I most praised
  • ought I now most to blame, and therewith he threw the pieces of his
  • sword over his bed. And after he leapt over the board to fight with the
  • giant, and slew him.
  • And anon he entered into the ship again, and the wind arose, and drove
  • him through the sea, that by adventure he came to another ship where
  • King Mordrains was, which had been tempted full evil with a fiend in
  • the Port of Perilous Rock. And when that one saw the other they made
  • great joy of other, and either told other of their adventure, and how
  • the sword failed him at his most need When Mordrains saw the sword he
  • praised it much: But the breaking was not to do but by wickedness of
  • thy selfward, for thou art in some sin. And there he took the sword,
  • and set the pieces together, and they soldered as fair as ever they
  • were to-fore; and there put he the sword in the sheath, and laid it
  • down on the bed. Then heard they a voice that said: Go out of this ship
  • a little while, and enter into the other, for dread ye fall in deadly
  • sin, for and ye be found in deadly sin ye may not escape but perish:
  • and so they went into the other ship. And as Nacien went over the board
  • he was smitten with a sword on the right foot, that he fell down
  • noseling to the ship’s board; and therewith he said: O God, how am I
  • hurt. And then there came a voice and said: Take thou that for thy
  • forfeit that thou didst in drawing of this sword, therefore thou
  • receivest a wound, for thou were never worthy to handle it, as the
  • writing maketh mention. In the name of God, said Galahad, ye are right
  • wise of these works.
  • CHAPTER V. How King Pelles was smitten through both thighs because he
  • drew the sword, and other marvellous histories.
  • Sir, said she, there was a king that hight Pelles, the maimed king. And
  • while he might ride he supported much Christendom and Holy Church. So
  • upon a day he hunted in a wood of his which lasted unto the sea; and at
  • the last he lost his hounds and his knights save only one: and there he
  • and his knight went till that they came toward Ireland, and there he
  • found the ship. And when he saw the letters and understood them, yet he
  • entered, for he was right perfect of his life, but his knight had none
  • hardiness to enter; and there found he this sword, and drew it out as
  • much as ye may see. So therewith entered a spear wherewith he was
  • smitten him through both the thighs, and never sith might he be healed,
  • nor nought shall to-fore we come to him. Thus, said she, was not King
  • Pelles, your grandsire, maimed for his hardiness? In the name of God,
  • damosel, said Galahad.
  • So they went toward the bed to behold all about it, and above the head
  • there hung two swords. Also there were two spindles which were as white
  • as any snow, and other that were as red as blood, and other above green
  • as any emerald: of these three colours were the spindles, and of
  • natural colour within, and without any painting. These spindles, said
  • the damosel, were when sinful Eve came to gather fruit, for which Adam
  • and she were put out of paradise, she took with her the bough on which
  • the apple hung on. Then perceived she that the branch was fair and
  • green, and she remembered her the loss which came from the tree. Then
  • she thought to keep the branch as long as she might. And for she had no
  • coffer to keep it in, she put it in the earth. So by the will of Our
  • Lord the branch grew to a great tree within a little while, and was as
  • white as any snow, branches, boughs, and leaves: that was a token a
  • maiden planted it. But after God came to Adam, and bade him know his
  • wife fleshly as nature required. So lay Adam with his wife under the
  • same tree; and anon the tree which was white was full green as any
  • grass, and all that came out of it; and in the same time that they
  • medled together there was Abel begotten: thus was the tree long of
  • green colour. And so it befell many days after, under the same tree
  • Caym slew Abel, whereof befell great marvel. For anon as Abel had
  • received the death under the green tree, it lost the green colour and
  • became red; and that was in tokening of the blood. And anon all the
  • plants died thereof, but the tree grew and waxed marvellously fair, and
  • it was the fairest tree and the most delectable that any man might
  • behold and see; and so died the plants that grew out of it to-fore that
  • Abel was slain under it. So long dured the tree till that Solomon, King
  • David’s son, reigned, and held the land after his father. This Solomon
  • was wise and knew all the virtues of stones and trees, and so he knew
  • the course of the stars, and many other divers things. This Solomon had
  • an evil wife, wherethrough he weened that there had been no good woman,
  • and so he despised them in his books. So answered a voice him once:
  • Solomon, if heaviness come to a man by a woman, ne reck thou never; for
  • yet shall there come a woman whereof there shall come greater joy to
  • man an hundred times more than this heaviness giveth sorrow; and that
  • woman shall be born of thy lineage. Tho when Solomon heard these words
  • he held himself but a fool, and the truth he perceived by old books.
  • Also the Holy Ghost showed him the coming of the glorious Virgin Mary.
  • Then asked he of the voice, if it should be in the yerde of his
  • lineage. Nay, said the voice, but there shall come a man which shall be
  • a maid, and the last of your blood, and he shall be as good a knight as
  • Duke Josua, thy brother-in-law.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Solomon took David’s sword by the counsel of his wife,
  • and of other matters marvellous.
  • Now have I certified thee of that thou stoodest in doubt. Then was
  • Solomon glad that there should come any such of his lineage; but ever
  • he marvelled and studied who that should be, and what his name might
  • be. His wife perceived that he studied, and thought she would know it
  • at some season; and so she waited her time, and asked of him the cause
  • of his studying, and there he told her altogether how the voice told
  • him. Well, said she, I shall let make a ship of the best wood and most
  • durable that men may find. So Solomon sent for all the carpenters of
  • the land, and the best. And when they had made the ship the lady said
  • to Solomon: Sir, said she, since it is so that this knight ought to
  • pass all knights of chivalry which have been to-fore him and shall come
  • after him, moreover I shall tell you, said she, ye shall go into Our
  • Lord’s temple, where is King David’s sword, your father, the which is
  • the marvelloust and the sharpest that ever was taken in any knight’s
  • hand. Therefore take that, and take off the pommel, and thereto make ye
  • a pommel of precious stones, that it be so subtly made that no man
  • perceive it but that they be all one; and after make there an hilt so
  • marvellously and wonderly that no man may know it; and after make a
  • marvellous sheath. And when ye have made all this I shall let make a
  • girdle thereto, such as shall please me.
  • All this King Solomon did let make as she devised, both the ship and
  • all the remnant. And when the ship was ready in the sea to sail, the
  • lady let make a great bed and marvellous rich, and set her upon the
  • bed’s head, covered with silk, and laid the sword at the feet, and the
  • girdles were of hemp, and therewith the king was angry. Sir, wit ye
  • well, said she, that I have none so high a thing which were worthy to
  • sustain so high a sword, and a maid shall bring other knights thereto,
  • but I wot not when it shall be, nor what time. And there she let make a
  • covering to the ship, of cloth of silk that should never rot for no
  • manner of weather. Yet went that lady and made a carpenter to come to
  • the tree which Abel was slain under. Now, said she, carve me out of
  • this tree as much wood as will make me a spindle. Ah madam, said he,
  • this is the tree the which our first mother planted. Do it, said she,
  • or else I shall destroy thee. Anon as he began to work there came out
  • drops of blood; and then would he have left, but she would not suffer
  • him, and so he took away as much wood as might make a spindle: and so
  • she made him to take as much of the green tree and of the white tree.
  • And when these three spindles were shapen she made them to be fastened
  • upon the selar of the bed. When Solomon saw this, he said to his wife:
  • Ye have done marvellously, for though all the world were here right
  • now, he could not devise wherefore all this was made, but Our Lord
  • Himself; and thou that hast done it wottest not what it shall betoken.
  • Now let it be, said she, for ye shall hear tidings sooner than ye ween.
  • Now shall ye hear a wonderful tale of King Solomon and his wife.
  • CHAPTER VII. A wonderful tale of King Solomon and his wife.
  • That night lay Solomon before the ship with little fellowship. And when
  • he was asleep him thought there came from heaven a great company of
  • angels, and alighted into the ship, and took water which was brought by
  • an angel, in a vessel of silver, and sprent all the ship. And after he
  • came to the sword, and drew letters on the hilt. And after went to the
  • ship’s board, and wrote there other letters which said: Thou man that
  • wilt enter within me, beware that thou be full within the faith, for I
  • ne am but Faith and Belief. When Solomon espied these letters he was
  • abashed, so that he durst not enter, and so drew him aback; and the
  • ship was anon shoven in the sea, and he went so fast that he lost sight
  • of him within a little while. And then a little voice said: Solomon,
  • the last knight of thy lineage shall rest in this bed. Then went
  • Solomon and awaked his wife, and told her of the adventures of the
  • ship.
  • Now saith the history that a great while the three fellows beheld the
  • bed and the three spindles. Then they were at certain that they were of
  • natural colours without painting. Then they lift up a cloth which was
  • above the ground, and there found a rich purse by seeming. And
  • Percivale took it, and found therein a writ and so he read it, and
  • devised the manner of the spindles and of the ship, whence it came, and
  • by whom it was made. Now, said Galahad, where shall we find the
  • gentlewoman that shall make new girdles to the sword? Fair sir, said
  • Percivale’s sister, dismay you not, for by the leave of God I shall let
  • make a girdle to the sword, such one as shall long thereto. And then
  • she opened a box, and took out girdles which were seemly wrought with
  • golden threads, and upon that were set full precious stones, and a rich
  • buckle of gold. Lo, lords, said she, here is a girdle that ought to be
  • set about the sword. And wit ye well the greatest part of this girdle
  • was made of my hair, which I loved well while that I was a woman of the
  • world. But as soon as I wist that this adventure was ordained me I
  • clipped off my hair, and made this girdle in the name of God. Ye be
  • well found, said Sir Bors, for certes ye have put us out of great pain,
  • wherein we should have entered ne had your tidings been.
  • Then went the gentlewoman and set it on the girdle of the sword. Now,
  • said the fellowship, what is the name of the sword, and what shall we
  • call it? Truly, said she, the name of the sword is the Sword with the
  • Strange Girdles; and the sheath, Mover of Blood; for no man that hath
  • blood in him ne shall never see the one part of the sheath which was
  • made of the Tree of Life. Then they said to Galahad: In the name of
  • Jesu Christ, and pray you that ye gird you with this sword which hath
  • been desired so much in the realm of Logris. Now let me begin, said
  • Galahad, to grip this sword for to give you courage; but wit ye well it
  • longeth no more to me than it doth to you. And then he gripped about it
  • with his fingers a great deal; and then she girt him about the middle
  • with the sword. Now reck I not though I die, for now I hold me one of
  • the blessed maidens of the world, which hath made the worthiest knight
  • of the world. Damosel, said Galahad, ye have done so much that I shall
  • be your knight all the days of my life.
  • Then they went from that ship, and went to the other. And anon the wind
  • drove them into the sea a great pace, but they had no victuals: but it
  • befell that they came on the morn to a castle that men call Carteloise,
  • that was in the marches of Scotland. And when they had passed the port,
  • the gentlewoman said: Lords, here be men arriven that, an they wist
  • that ye were of King Arthur’s court, ye should be assailed anon.
  • Damosel, said Galahad, He that cast us out of the rock shall deliver us
  • from them.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How Galahad and his fellows came to a castle, and how
  • they were fought withal, and how they slew their adversaries, and other
  • matters.
  • So it befell as they spoke thus there came a squire by them, and asked
  • what they were; and they said they were of King Arthur’s house. Is that
  • sooth? said he. Now by my head, said he, ye be ill arrayed; and then
  • turned he again unto the cliff fortress. And within a while they heard
  • an horn blow. Then a gentlewoman came to them, and asked them of whence
  • they were; and they told her. Fair lords, said she, for God’s love turn
  • again if ye may, for ye be come unto your death. Nay, they said, we
  • will not turn again, for He shall help us in whose service we be
  • entered in. Then as they stood talking there came knights well armed,
  • and bade them yield them or else to die. That yielding, said they,
  • shall be noyous to you. And therewith they let their horses run, and
  • Sir Percivale smote the foremost to the earth, and took his horse, and
  • mounted thereupon, and the same did Galahad. Also Bors served another
  • so, for they had no horses in that country, for they left their horses
  • when they took their ship in other countries. And so when they were
  • horsed then began they to set upon them; and they of the castle fled
  • into the strong fortress, and the three knights after them into the
  • castle, and so alighted on foot, and with their swords slew them down,
  • and gat into the hall.
  • Then when they beheld the great multitude of people that they had
  • slain, they held themself great sinners. Certes, said Bors, I ween an
  • God had loved them that we should not have had power to have slain them
  • thus. But they have done so much against Our Lord that He would not
  • suffer them to reign no longer. Say ye not so, said Galahad, for if
  • they misdid against God, the vengeance is not ours, but to Him which
  • hath power thereof.
  • So came there out of a chamber a good man which was a priest, and bare
  • God’s body in a cup. And when he saw them which lay dead in the hall he
  • was all abashed; and Galahad did off his helm and kneeled down, and so
  • did his two fellows. Sir, said they, have ye no dread of us, for we be
  • of King Arthur’s court. Then asked the good man how they were slain so
  • suddenly, and they told it him. Truly, said the good man, an ye might
  • live as long as the world might endure, ne might ye have done so great
  • an alms-deed as this. Sir, said Galahad, I repent me much, inasmuch as
  • they were christened. Nay, repent you not, said he, for they were not
  • christened, and I shall tell you how that I wot of this castle. Here
  • was Lord Earl Hernox not but one year, and he had three sons, good
  • knights of arms, and a daughter, the fairest gentlewoman that men knew.
  • So those three knights loved their sister so sore that they brent in
  • love, and so they lay by her, maugre her head. And for she cried to her
  • father they slew her, and took their father and put him in prison, and
  • wounded him nigh to the death, but a cousin of hers rescued him. And
  • then did they great untruth: they slew clerks and priests, and made
  • beat down chapels, that Our Lord’s service might not be served nor
  • said. And this same day her father sent to me for to be confessed and
  • houseled; but such shame had never man as I had this day with the three
  • brethren, but the earl bade me suffer, for he said they should not long
  • endure, for three servants of Our Lord should destroy them, and now it
  • is brought to an end. And by this may ye wit that Our Lord is not
  • displeased with your deeds. Certes, said Galahad, an it had not pleased
  • Our Lord, never should we have slain so many men in so little a while.
  • And then they brought the Earl Hernox out of prison into the midst of
  • the hall, that knew Galahad anon, and yet he saw him never afore but by
  • revelation of Our Lord.
  • CHAPTER IX. How the three knights, with Percivale’s sister, came unto
  • the same forest, and of an hart and four lions, and other things.
  • Then began he to weep right tenderly, and said: Long have I abiden your
  • coming, but for God’s love hold me in your arms, that my soul may
  • depart out of my body in so good a man’s arms as ye be. Gladly, said
  • Galahad. And then one said on high, that all heard: Galahad, well hast
  • thou avenged me on God’s enemies. Now behoveth thee to go to the Maimed
  • King as soon as thou mayest, for he shall receive by thee health which
  • he hath abiden so long. And therewith the soul departed from the body,
  • and Galahad made him to be buried as him ought to be.
  • Right so departed the three knights, and Percivale’s sister with them.
  • And so they came into a waste forest, and there they saw afore them a
  • white hart which four lions led. Then they took them to assent for to
  • follow after for to know whither they repaired; and so they rode after
  • a great pace till that they came to a valley, and thereby was an
  • hermitage where a good man dwelled, and the hart and the lions entered
  • also. So when they saw all this they turned to the chapel, and saw the
  • good man in a religious weed and in the armour of Our Lord, for he
  • would sing mass of the Holy Ghost; and so they entered in and heard
  • mass. And at the secrets of the mass they three saw the hart become a
  • man, the which marvelled them, and set him upon the altar in a rich
  • siege; and saw the four lions were changed, the one to the form of a
  • man, the other to the form of a lion, and the third to an eagle, and
  • the fourth was changed unto an ox. Then took they their siege where the
  • hart sat, and went out through a glass window, and there was nothing
  • perished nor broken; and they heard a voice say: In such a manner
  • entered the Son of God in the womb of a maid Mary, whose virginity ne
  • was perished ne hurt. And when they heard these words they fell down to
  • the earth and were astonied; and therewith was a great clearness.
  • And when they were come to theirself again they went to the good man
  • and prayed him that he would say them truth. What thing have ye seen?
  • said he. And they told him all that they had seen. Ah lords, said he,
  • ye be welcome; now wot I well ye be the good knights the which shall
  • bring the Sangreal to an end; for ye be they unto whom Our Lord shall
  • shew great secrets. And well ought Our Lord be signified to an hart,
  • for the hart when he is old he waxeth young again in his white skin.
  • Right so cometh again Our Lord from death to life, for He lost earthly
  • flesh that was the deadly flesh, which He had taken in the womb of the
  • blessed Virgin Mary; and for that cause appeared Our Lord as a white
  • hart without spot. And the four that were with Him is to understand the
  • four evangelists which set in writing a part of Jesu Christ’s deeds
  • that He did sometime when He was among you an earthly man; for wit ye
  • well never erst ne might no knight know the truth, for ofttimes or this
  • Our Lord showed Him unto good men and unto good knights, in likeness of
  • an hart, but I suppose from henceforth ye shall see no more. And then
  • they joyed much, and dwelled there all that day. And upon the morrow
  • when they had heard mass they departed and commended the good man to
  • God: and so they came to a castle and passed by. So there came a knight
  • armed after them and said: Lords, hark what I shall say to you.
  • CHAPTER X. How they were desired of a strange custom, the which they
  • would not obey; wherefore they fought and slew many knights.
  • This gentlewoman that ye lead with you is a maid? Sir, said she, a maid
  • I am. Then he took her by the bridle and said: By the Holy Cross, ye
  • shall not escape me to-fore ye have yolden the custom of this castle.
  • Let her go, said Percivale, ye be not wise, for a maid in what place
  • she cometh is free. So in the meanwhile there came out a ten or twelve
  • knights armed, out of the castle, and with them came gentlewomen which
  • held a dish of silver. And then they said: This gentlewoman must yield
  • us the custom of this castle. Sir, said a knight, what maid passeth
  • hereby shall give this dish full of blood of her right arm. Blame have
  • ye, said Galahad, that brought up such customs, and so God me save, I
  • ensure you of this gentlewoman ye shall fail while that I live. So God
  • me help, said Percivale, I had liefer be slain. And I also, said Sir
  • Bors. By my troth, said the knight, then shall ye die, for ye may not
  • endure against us though ye were the best knights of the world.
  • Then let they run each to other, and the three fellows beat the ten
  • knights, and then set their hands to their swords and beat them down
  • and slew them. Then there came out of the castle a three score knights
  • armed. Fair lords, said the three fellows, have mercy on yourself and
  • have not ado with us. Nay, fair lords, said the knights of the castle,
  • we counsel you to withdraw you, for ye be the best knights of the
  • world, and therefore do no more, for ye have done enough. We will let
  • you go with this harm, but we must needs have the custom. Certes, said
  • Galahad, for nought speak ye. Well, said they, will ye die? We be not
  • yet come thereto, said Galahad. Then began they to meddle together, and
  • Galahad, with the strange girdles, drew his sword, and smote on the
  • right hand and on the left hand, and slew what that ever abode him, and
  • did such marvels that there was none that saw him but weened he had
  • been none earthly man, but a monster. And his two fellows halp him
  • passing well, and so they held the journey everych in like hard till it
  • was night: then must they needs depart.
  • So came in a good knight, and said to the three fellows: If ye will
  • come in to-night and take such harbour as here is ye shall be right
  • welcome, and we shall ensure you by the faith of our bodies, and as we
  • be true knights, to leave you in such estate to-morrow as we find you,
  • without any falsehood. And as soon as ye know of the custom we dare say
  • ye will accord therefore. For God’s love, said the gentlewoman, go
  • thither and spare not for me. Go we, said Galahad; and so they entered
  • into the chapel. And when they were alighted they made great joy of
  • them. So within a while the three knights asked the custom of the
  • castle and wherefore it was. What it is, said they, we will say you
  • sooth.
  • CHAPTER XI. How Sir Percivale’s sister bled a dish full of blood for to
  • heal a lady, wherefore she died; and how that the body was put in a
  • ship.
  • There is in this castle a gentlewoman which we and this castle is hers,
  • and many other. So it befell many years agone there fell upon her a
  • malady; and when she had lain a great while she fell unto a measle, and
  • of no leech she could have no remedy. But at the last an old man said
  • an she might have a dish full of blood of a maid and a clean virgin in
  • will and in work, and a king’s daughter, that blood should be her
  • health, and for to anoint her withal; and for this thing was this
  • custom made. Now, said Percivale’s sister, fair knights, I see well
  • that this gentlewoman is but dead. Certes, said Galahad, an ye bleed so
  • much ye may die. Truly, said she, an I die for to heal her I shall get
  • me great worship and soul’s health, and worship to my lineage, and
  • better is one harm than twain. And therefore there shall be no more
  • battle, but to-morn I shall yield you your custom of this castle. And
  • then there was great joy more than there was to-fore, for else had
  • there been mortal war upon the morn; notwithstanding she would none
  • other, whether they wold or nold.
  • That night were the three fellows eased with the best; and on the morn
  • they heard mass, and Sir Percivale’s sister bade bring forth the sick
  • lady. So she was, the which was evil at ease. Then said she: Who shall
  • let me blood? So one came forth and let her blood, and she bled so much
  • that the dish was full. Then she lift up her hand and blessed her; and
  • then she said to the lady: Madam, I am come to the death for to make
  • you whole, for God’s love pray for me. With that she fell in a swoon.
  • Then Galahad and his two fellows start up to her, and lift her up and
  • staunched her, but she had bled so much that she might not live. Then
  • she said when she was awaked: Fair brother Percivale, I die for the
  • healing of this lady, so I require you that ye bury me not in this
  • country, but as soon as I am dead put me in a boat at the next haven,
  • and let me go as adventure will lead me; and as soon as ye three come
  • to the City of Sarras, there to enchieve the Holy Grail, ye shall find
  • me under a tower arrived, and there bury me in the spiritual place; for
  • I say you so much, there Galahad shall be buried, and ye also, in the
  • same place.
  • Then Percivale understood these words, and granted it her, weeping. And
  • then said a voice: Lords and fellows, to-morrow at the hour of prime ye
  • three shall depart everych from other, till the adventure bring you to
  • the Maimed King. Then asked she her Saviour; and as soon as she had
  • received it the soul departed from the body. So the same day was the
  • lady healed, when she was anointed withal. Then Sir Percivale made a
  • letter of all that she had holpen them as in strange adventures, and
  • put it in her right hand, and so laid her in a barge, and covered it
  • with black silk; and so the wind arose, and drove the barge from the
  • land, and all knights beheld it till it was out of their sight. Then
  • they drew all to the castle, and so forthwith there fell a sudden
  • tempest and a thunder, lightning, and rain, as all the earth would have
  • broken. So half the castle turned up-so-down. So it passed evensong or
  • the tempest was ceased.
  • Then they saw afore them a knight armed and wounded hard in the body
  • and in the head, that said: O God, succour me for now it is need. After
  • this knight came another knight and a dwarf, which cried to them afar:
  • Stand, ye may not escape. Then the wounded knight held up his hands to
  • God that he should not die in such tribulation. Truly, said Galahad, I
  • shall succour him for His sake that he calleth upon. Sir, said Bors, I
  • shall do it, for it is not for you, for he is but one knight. Sir, said
  • he, I grant. So Sir Bors took his horse, and commended him to God, and
  • rode after, to rescue the wounded knight. Now turn we to the two
  • fellows.
  • CHAPTER XII. How Galahad and Percivale found in a castle many tombs of
  • maidens that had bled to death.
  • Now saith the story that all night Galahad and Percivale were in a
  • chapel in their prayers, for to save Sir Bors. So on the morrow they
  • dressed them in their harness toward the castle, to wit what was fallen
  • of them therein. And when they came there they found neither man nor
  • woman that he ne was dead by the vengeance of Our Lord. With that they
  • heard a voice that said: This vengeance is for blood-shedding of
  • maidens. Also they found at the end of the chapel a churchyard, and
  • therein might they see a three score fair tombs, and that place was so
  • fair and so delectable that it seemed them there had been none tempest,
  • for there lay the bodies of all the good maidens which were martyred
  • for the sick lady’s sake. Also they found the names of everych, and of
  • what blood they were come, and all were of kings’ blood, and twelve of
  • them were kings’ daughters. Then they departed and went into a forest.
  • Now, said Percivale unto Galahad, we must depart, so pray we Our Lord
  • that we may meet together in short time: then they did off their helms
  • and kissed together, and wept at their departing.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How Sir Launcelot entered into the ship where Sir
  • Percivale’s sister lay dead, and how he met with Sir Galahad, his son.
  • Now saith the history, that when Launcelot was come to the water of
  • Mortoise, as it is rehearsed before, he was in great peril, and so he
  • laid him down and slept, and took the adventure that God would send
  • him. So when he was asleep there came a vision unto him and said:
  • Launcelot, arise up and take thine armour, and enter into the first
  • ship that thou shalt find. And when he heard these words he start up
  • and saw great clearness about him. And then he lift up his hand and
  • blessed him, and so took his arms and made him ready; and so by
  • adventure he came by a strand, and found a ship the which was without
  • sail or oar. And as soon as he was within the ship there he felt the
  • most sweetness that ever he felt, and he was fulfilled with all thing
  • that he thought on or desired. Then he said: Fair sweet Father, Jesu
  • Christ, I wot not in what joy I am, for this joy passeth all earthly
  • joys that ever I was in. And so in this joy he laid him down to the
  • ship’s board, and slept till day. And when he awoke he found there a
  • fair bed, and therein lying a gentlewoman dead, the which was Sir
  • Percivale’s sister. And as Launcelot devised her, he espied in her
  • right hand a writ, the which he read, the which told him all the
  • adventures that ye have heard to-fore, and of what lineage she was
  • come. So with this gentlewoman Sir Launcelot was a month and more. If
  • ye would ask how he lived, He that fed the people of Israel with manna
  • in the desert, so was he fed; for every day when he had said his
  • prayers he was sustained with the grace of the Holy Ghost.
  • So on a night he went to play him by the water side, for he was
  • somewhat weary of the ship. And then he listened and heard an horse
  • come, and one riding upon him. And when he came nigh he seemed a
  • knight. And so he let him pass, and went thereas the ship was; and
  • there he alighted, and took the saddle and the bridle and put the horse
  • from him, and went into the ship. And then Launcelot dressed unto him,
  • and said: Ye be welcome. And he answered and saluted him again, and
  • asked him: What is your name? for much my heart giveth unto you. Truly,
  • said he, my name is Launcelot du Lake. Sir, said he, then be ye
  • welcome, for ye were the beginner of me in this world. Ah, said he, are
  • ye Galahad? Yea, forsooth, said he; and so he kneeled down and asked
  • him his blessing, and after took off his helm and kissed him. And there
  • was great joy between them, for there is no tongue can tell the joy
  • that they made either of other, and many a friendly word spoken
  • between, as kin would, the which is no need here to be rehearsed. And
  • there everych told other of their adventures and marvels that were
  • befallen to them in many journeys sith that they departed from the
  • court.
  • Anon, as Galahad saw the gentlewoman dead in the bed, he knew her well
  • enough, and told great worship of her, that she was the best maid
  • living, and it was great pity of her death. But when Launcelot heard
  • how the marvellous sword was gotten, and who made it, and all the
  • marvels rehearsed afore, then he prayed Galahad, his son, that he would
  • show him the sword, and so he did; and anon he kissed the pommel, and
  • the hilt, and the scabbard. Truly, said Launcelot, never erst knew I of
  • so high adventures done, and so marvellous and strange. So dwelt
  • Launcelot and Galahad within that ship half a year, and served God
  • daily and nightly with all their power; and often they arrived in isles
  • far from folk, where there repaired none but wild beasts, and there
  • they found many strange adventures and perilous, which they brought to
  • an end; but for those adventures were with wild beasts, and not in the
  • quest of the Sangreal, therefore the tale maketh here no mention
  • thereof, for it would be too long to tell of all those adventures that
  • befell them.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How a knight brought unto Sir Galahad a horse, and bade
  • him come from his father, Sir Launcelot.
  • So after, on a Monday, it befell that they arrived in the edge of a
  • forest to-fore a cross; and then saw they a knight armed all in white,
  • and was richly horsed, and led in his right hand a white horse; and so
  • he came to the ship, and saluted the two knights on the High Lord’s
  • behalf, and said: Galahad, sir, ye have been long enough with your
  • father, come out of the ship, and start upon this horse, and go where
  • the adventures shall lead thee in the quest of the Sangreal. Then he
  • went to his father and kissed him sweetly, and said: Fair sweet father,
  • I wot not when I shall see you more till I see the body of Jesu Christ.
  • I pray you, said Launcelot, pray ye to the High Father that He hold me
  • in His service. And so he took his horse, and there they heard a voice
  • that said: Think for to do well, for the one shall never see the other
  • before the dreadful day of doom. Now, son Galahad, said Launcelot,
  • since we shall depart, and never see other, I pray to the High Father
  • to conserve me and you both. Sir, said Galahad, no prayer availeth so
  • much as yours And therewith Galahad entered into the forest.
  • And the wind arose, and drove Launcelot more than a month throughout
  • the sea, where he slept but little, but prayed to God that he might see
  • some tidings of the Sangreal. So it befell on a night, at midnight, he
  • arrived afore a castle, on the back side, which was rich and fair, and
  • there was a postern opened toward the sea, and was open without any
  • keeping, save two lions kept the entry; and the moon shone clear. Anon
  • Sir Launcelot heard a voice that said: Launcelot, go out of this ship
  • and enter into the castle, where thou shalt see a great part of thy
  • desire. Then he ran to his arms, and so armed him, and so went to the
  • gate and saw the lions. Then set he hand to his sword and drew it. Then
  • there came a dwarf suddenly, and smote him on the arm so sore that the
  • sword fell out of his hand. Then heard he a voice say: O man of evil
  • faith and poor belief, wherefore trowest thou more on thy harness than
  • in thy Maker, for He might more avail thee than thine armour, in whose
  • service that thou art set. Then said Launcelot: Fair Father Jesu
  • Christ, I thank thee of Thy great mercy that Thou reprovest me of my
  • misdeed; now see I well that ye hold me for your servant. Then took he
  • again his sword and put it up in his sheath, and made a cross in his
  • forehead, and came to the lions, and they made semblaunt to do him
  • harm. Notwithstanding he passed by them without hurt, and entered into
  • the castle to the chief fortress, and there were they all at rest. Then
  • Launcelot entered in so armed, for he found no gate nor door but it was
  • open. And at the last he found a chamber whereof the door was shut, and
  • he set his hand thereto to have opened it, but he might not.
  • CHAPTER XV. How Sir Launcelot was to-fore the door of the chamber
  • wherein the Holy Sangreal was.
  • Then he enforced him mickle to undo the door. Then he listened and
  • heard a voice which sang so sweetly that it seemed none earthly thing;
  • and him thought the voice said: Joy and honour be to the Father of
  • Heaven. Then Launcelot kneeled down to-fore the chamber, for well wist
  • he that there was the Sangreal within that chamber. Then said he: Fair
  • sweet Father, Jesu Christ, if ever I did thing that pleased Thee, Lord
  • for Thy pity never have me not in despite for my sins done aforetime,
  • and that Thou show me something of that I seek. And with that he saw
  • the chamber door open, and there came out a great clearness, that the
  • house was as bright as all the torches of the world had been there.
  • So came he to the chamber door, and would have entered. And anon a
  • voice said to him: Flee, Launcelot, and enter not, for thou oughtest
  • not to do it; and if thou enter thou shalt for-think it. Then he
  • withdrew him aback right heavy. Then looked he up in the midst of the
  • chamber, and saw a table of silver, and the Holy Vessel, covered with
  • red samite, and many angels about it, whereof one held a candle of wax
  • burning, and the other held a cross, and the ornaments of an altar. And
  • before the Holy Vessel he saw a good man clothed as a priest. And it
  • seemed that he was at the sacring of the mass. And it seemed to
  • Launcelot that above the priest’s hands were three men, whereof the two
  • put the youngest by likeness between the priest’s hands; and so he lift
  • it up right high, and it seemed to show so to the people. And then
  • Launcelot marvelled not a little, for him thought the priest was so
  • greatly charged of the figure that him seemed that he should fall to
  • the earth. And when he saw none about him that would help him, then
  • came he to the door a great pace, and said: Fair Father Jesu Christ, ne
  • take it for no sin though I help the good man which hath great need of
  • help.
  • Right so entered he into the chamber, and came toward the table of
  • silver; and when he came nigh he felt a breath, that him thought it was
  • intermeddled with fire, which smote him so sore in the visage that him
  • thought it brent his visage; and therewith he fell to the earth, and
  • had no power to arise, as he that was so araged, that had lost the
  • power of his body, and his hearing, and his seeing. Then felt he many
  • hands about him, which took him up and bare him out of the chamber
  • door, without any amending of his swoon, and left him there, seeming
  • dead to all people.
  • So upon the morrow when it was fair day they within were arisen, and
  • found Launcelot lying afore the chamber door. All they marvelled how
  • that he came in, and so they looked upon him, and felt his pulse to wit
  • whether there were any life in him; and so they found life in him, but
  • he might not stand nor stir no member that he had. And so they took him
  • by every part of the body, and bare him into a chamber, and laid him in
  • a rich bed, far from all folk; and so he lay four days. Then the one
  • said he was alive, and the other said, Nay. In the name of God, said an
  • old man, for I do you verily to wit he is not dead, but he is so full
  • of life as the mightiest of you all; and therefore I counsel you that
  • he be well kept till God send him life again.
  • CHAPTER XVI. How Sir launcelot had lain four-and-twenty days and as
  • many nights as a dead man, and other divers matters.
  • In such manner they kept Launcelot four-and-twenty days and all so many
  • nights, that ever he lay still as a dead man; and at the twenty-fifth
  • day befell him after midday that he opened his eyes. And when he saw
  • folk he made great sorrow, and said: Why have ye awaked me, for I was
  • more at ease than I am now. O Jesu Christ, who might be so blessed that
  • might see openly thy great marvels of secretness there where no sinner
  • may be! What have ye seen? said they about him. I have seen, said he,
  • so great marvels that no tongue may tell, and more than any heart can
  • think, and had not my son been here afore me I had seen much more.
  • Then they told him how he had lain there four-and-twenty days and
  • nights. Then him thought it was punishment for the four-and-twenty
  • years that he had been a sinner, wherefore Our Lord put him in penance
  • four-and-twenty days and nights. Then looked Sir Launcelot afore him,
  • and saw the hair which he had borne nigh a year, for that he
  • for-thought him right much that he had broken his promise unto the
  • hermit, which he had avowed to do. Then they asked how it stood with
  • him. Forsooth, said he, I am whole of body, thanked be Our Lord;
  • therefore, sirs, for God’s love tell me where I am. Then said they all
  • that he was in the castle of Carbonek.
  • Therewith came a gentlewoman and brought him a shirt of small linen
  • cloth, but he changed not there, but took the hair to him again. Sir,
  • said they, the quest of the Sangreal is achieved now right in you, that
  • never shall ye see of the Sangreal no more than ye have seen. Now I
  • thank God, said Launcelot, of His great mercy of that I have seen, for
  • it sufficeth me; for as I suppose no man in this world hath lived
  • better than I have done to enchieve that I have done. And therewith he
  • took the hair and clothed him in it, and above that he put a linen
  • shirt, and after a robe of scarlet, fresh and new. And when he was so
  • arrayed they marvelled all, for they knew him that he was Launcelot,
  • the good knight. And then they said all: O my lord Sir Launcelot, be
  • that ye? And he said: Truly I am he.
  • Then came word to King Pelles that the knight that had lain so long
  • dead was Sir Launcelot. Then was the king right glad, and went to see
  • him. And when Launcelot saw him come he dressed him against him, and
  • there made the king great joy of him. And there the king told him
  • tidings that his fair daughter was dead. Then Launcelot was right heavy
  • of it, and said: Sir, me forthinketh the death of your daughter, for
  • she was a full fair lady, fresh and young. And well I wot she bare the
  • best knight that is now on the earth, or that ever was sith God was
  • born. So the king held him there four days, and on the morrow he took
  • his leave at King Pelles and at all the fellowship, and thanked them of
  • their great labour.
  • Right so as they sat at their dinner in the chief salle, then was so
  • befallen that the Sangreal had fulfilled the table with all manner of
  • meats that any heart might think. So as they sat they saw all the doors
  • and the windows of the place were shut without man’s hand, whereof they
  • were all abashed, and none wist what to do.
  • And then it happed suddenly a knight came to the chief door and
  • knocked, and cried: Undo the door. But they would not. And ever he
  • cried: Undo; but they would not. And at last it noyed them so much that
  • the king himself arose and came to a window there where the knight
  • called. Then he said: Sir knight, ye shall not enter at this time while
  • the Sangreal is here, and therefore go into another; for certes ye be
  • none of the knights of the quest, but one of them which hath served the
  • fiend, and hast left the service of Our Lord: and he was passing wroth
  • at the king’s words. Sir knight, said the king, sith ye would so fain
  • enter, say me of what country ye be. Sir, said he, I am of the realm of
  • Logris, and my name is Ector de Maris, and brother unto my lord, Sir
  • Launcelot. In the name of God, said the king, me for-thinketh of what I
  • have said, for your brother is here within. And when Ector de Maris
  • understood that his brother was there, for he was the man in the world
  • that he most dread and loved, and then he said: Ah God, now doubleth my
  • sorrow and shame. Full truly said the good man of the hill unto Gawaine
  • and to me of our dreams. Then went he out of the court as fast as his
  • horse might, and so throughout the castle.
  • CHAPTER XVII. How Sir Launcelot returned towards Logris, and of other
  • adventures which he saw in the way.
  • Then King Pelles came to Sir Launcelot and told him tidings of his
  • brother, whereof he was sorry, that he wist not what to do. So Sir
  • Launcelot departed, and took his arms, and said he would go see the
  • realm of Logris, which I have not seen in twelve months. And there with
  • he commended the king to God, and so rode through many realms. And at
  • the last he came to a white abbey, and there they made him that night
  • great cheer; and on the morn he rose and heard mass. And afore an altar
  • he found a rich tomb, which was newly made; and then he took heed, and
  • saw the sides written with gold which said: Here lieth King Bagdemagus
  • of Gore, which King Arthur’s nephew slew; and named him, Sir Gawaine.
  • Then was not he a little sorry, for Launcelot loved him much more than
  • any other, and had it been any other than Gawaine he should not have
  • escaped from death to life; and said to himself: Ah Lord God, this is a
  • great hurt unto King Arthur’s court, the loss of such a man. And then
  • he departed and came to the abbey where Galahad did the adventure of
  • the tombs, and won the white shield with the red cross; and there had
  • he great cheer all that night.
  • And on the morn he turned unto Camelot, where he found King Arthur and
  • the queen. But many of the knights of the Round Table were slain and
  • destroyed, more than half. And so three were come home, Ector, Gawaine,
  • and Lionel, and many other that need not to be rehearsed. And all the
  • court was passing glad of Sir Launcelot, and the king asked him many
  • tidings of his son Galahad. And there Launcelot told the king of his
  • adventures that had befallen him since he departed. And also he told
  • him of the adventures of Galahad, Percivale, and Bors, which that he
  • knew by the letter of the dead damosel, and as Galahad had told him.
  • Now God would, said the king, that they were all three here. That shall
  • never be, said Launcelot, for two of them shall ye never see, but one
  • of them shall come again.
  • Now leave we this story and speak of Galahad.
  • CHAPTER XVIII. How Galahad came to King Mordrains, and of other matters
  • and adventures.
  • Now, saith the story, Galahad rode many journeys in vain. And at the
  • last he came to the abbey where King Mordrains was, and when he heard
  • that, he thought he would abide to see him. And upon the morn, when he
  • had heard mass, Galahad came unto King Mordrains, and anon the king saw
  • him, which had lain blind of long time. And then he dressed him against
  • him, and said: Galahad, the servant of Jesu Christ, whose coming I have
  • abiden so long, now embrace me and let me rest on thy breast, so that I
  • may rest between thine arms, for thou art a clean virgin above all
  • knights, as the flower of the lily in whom virginity is signified, and
  • thou art the rose the which is the flower of all good virtues, and in
  • colour of fire. For the fire of the Holy Ghost is taken so in thee that
  • my flesh which was all dead of oldness is become young again. Then
  • Galahad heard his words, then he embraced him and all his body. Then
  • said he: Fair Lord Jesu Christ, now I have my will. Now I require thee,
  • in this point that I am in, thou come and visit me. And anon Our Lord
  • heard his prayer: therewith the soul departed from the body.
  • And then Galahad put him in the earth as a king ought to be, and so
  • departed and so came into a perilous forest where he found the well the
  • which boileth with great waves, as the tale telleth to-fore. And as
  • soon as Galahad set his hand thereto it ceased, so that it brent no
  • more, and the heat departed. For that it brent it was a sign of
  • lechery, the which was that time much used. But that heat might not
  • abide his pure virginity. And this was taken in the country for a
  • miracle. And so ever after was it called Galahad’s well.
  • Then by adventure he came into the country of Gore, and into the abbey
  • where Launcelot had been to-forehand, and found the tomb of King
  • Bagdemagus, but he was founder thereof, Joseph of Aramathie’s son; and
  • the tomb of Simeon where Launcelot had failed. Then he looked into a
  • croft under the minster, and there he saw a tomb which brent full
  • marvellously. Then asked he the brethren what it was. Sir, said they, a
  • marvellous adventure that may not be brought unto none end but by him
  • that passeth of bounty and of knighthood all them of the Round Table. I
  • would, said Galahad, that ye would lead me thereto. Gladly, said they,
  • and so led him till a cave. And he went down upon greses, and came nigh
  • the tomb. And then the flaming failed, and the fire staunched, the
  • which many a day had been great. Then came there a voice that said:
  • Much are ye beholden to thank Our Lord, the which hath given you a good
  • hour, that ye may draw out the souls of earthly pain, and to put them
  • into the joys of paradise. I am of your kindred, the which hath dwelled
  • in this heat this three hundred winter and four-and-fifty to be purged
  • of the sin that I did against Joseph of Aramathie. Then Galahad took
  • the body in his arms and bare it into the minster. And that night lay
  • Galahad in the abbey; and on the morn he gave him service, and put him
  • in the earth afore the high altar.
  • CHAPTER XIX. How Sir Percivale and Sir Bors met with Sir Galahad, and
  • how they came to the castle of Carbonek, and other matters.
  • So departed he from thence, and commended the brethren to God; and so
  • he rode five days till that he came to the Maimed King. And ever
  • followed Percivale the five days, asking where he had been; and so one
  • told him how the adventures of Logris were enchieved. So on a day it
  • befell that they came out of a great forest, and there they met at
  • traverse with Sir Bors, the which rode alone. It is none need to tell
  • if they were glad; and them he saluted, and they yielded him honour and
  • good adventure, and everych told other. Then said Bors: It is mo than a
  • year and an half that I ne lay ten times where men dwelled, but in wild
  • forests and in mountains, but God was ever my comfort.
  • Then rode they a great while till that they came to the castle of
  • Carbonek. And when they were entered within the castle King Pelles knew
  • them; then there was great joy, for they wist well by their coming that
  • they had fulfilled the quest of the Sangreal. Then Eliazar, King
  • Pelles’ son, brought to-fore them the broken sword wherewith Joseph was
  • stricken through the thigh. Then Bors set his hand thereto, if that he
  • might have soldered it again; but it would not be. Then he took it to
  • Percivale, but he had no more power thereto than he. Now have ye it
  • again, said Percivale to Galahad, for an it be ever enchieved by any
  • bodily man ye must do it. And then he took the pieces and set them
  • together, and they seemed that they had never been broken, and as well
  • as it had been first forged. And when they within espied that the
  • adventure of the sword was enchieved, then they gave the sword to Bors,
  • for it might not be better set; for he was a good knight and a worthy
  • man.
  • And a little afore even the sword arose great and marvellous, and was
  • full of great heat that many men fell for dread. And anon alighted a
  • voice among them, and said: They that ought not to sit at the table of
  • Jesu Christ arise, for now shall very knights be fed. So they went
  • thence, all save King Pelles and Eliazar, his son, the which were holy
  • men, and a maid which was his niece; and so these three fellows and
  • they three were there, no mo. Anon they saw knights all armed came in
  • at the hall door, and did off their helms and their arms, and said unto
  • Galahad: Sir, we have hied right much for to be with you at this table
  • where the holy meat shall be departed. Then said he: Ye be welcome, but
  • of whence be ye? So three of them said they were of Gaul, and other
  • three said they were of Ireland, and the other three said they were of
  • Denmark. So as they sat thus there came out a bed of tree, of a
  • chamber, the which four gentlewomen brought; and in the bed lay a good
  • man sick, and a crown of gold upon his head; and there in the midst of
  • the place they set him down, and went again their way. Then he lift up
  • his head, and said: Galahad, Knight, ye be welcome, for much have I
  • desired your coming, for in such pain and in such anguish I have been
  • long. But now I trust to God the term is come that my pain shall be
  • allayed, that I shall pass out of this world so as it was promised me
  • long ago. Therewith a voice said: There be two among you that be not in
  • the quest of the Sangreal, and therefore depart ye.
  • CHAPTER XX. How Galahad and his fellows were fed of the Holy Sangreal,
  • and how Our Lord appeared to them, and other things.
  • Then King Pelles and his son departed. And therewithal beseemed them
  • that there came a man, and four angels from heaven, clothed in likeness
  • of a bishop, and had a cross in his hand; and these four angels bare
  • him up in a chair, and set him down before the table of silver where
  • upon the Sangreal was; and it seemed that he had in midst of his
  • forehead letters the which said: See ye here Joseph, the first bishop
  • of Christendom, the same which Our Lord succoured in the city of Sarras
  • in the spiritual place. Then the knights marvelled, for that bishop was
  • dead more than three hundred year to-fore. O knights, said he, marvel
  • not, for I was sometime an earthly man. With that they heard the
  • chamber door open, and there they saw angels; and two bare candles of
  • wax, and the third a towel, and the fourth a spear which bled
  • marvellously, that three drops fell within a box which he held with his
  • other hand. And they set the candles upon the table, and the third the
  • towel upon the vessel, and the fourth the holy spear even upright upon
  • the vessel. And then the bishop made semblaunt as though he would have
  • gone to the sacring of the mass. And then he took an ubblie which was
  • made in likeness of bread. And at the lifting up there came a figure in
  • likeness of a child, and the visage was as red and as bright as any
  • fire, and smote himself into the bread, so that they all saw it that
  • the bread was formed of a fleshly man; and then he put it into the Holy
  • Vessel again, and then he did that longed to a priest to do to a mass.
  • And then he went to Galahad and kissed him, and bade him go and kiss
  • his fellows: and so he did anon. Now, said he, servants of Jesu Christ,
  • ye shall be fed afore this table with sweet meats that never knights
  • tasted. And when he had said, he vanished away. And they set them at
  • the table in great dread, and made their prayers.
  • Then looked they and saw a man come out of the Holy Vessel, that had
  • all the signs of the passion of Jesu Christ, bleeding all openly, and
  • said: My knights, and my servants, and my true children, which be come
  • out of deadly life into spiritual life, I will now no longer hide me
  • from you, but ye shall see now a part of my secrets and of my hidden
  • things: now hold and receive the high meat which ye have so much
  • desired. Then took he himself the Holy Vessel and came to Galahad; and
  • he kneeled down, and there he received his Saviour, and after him so
  • received all his fellows; and they thought it so sweet that it was
  • marvellous to tell. Then said he to Galahad: Son, wottest thou what I
  • hold betwixt my hands? Nay, said he, but if ye will tell me. This is,
  • said he, the holy dish wherein I ate the lamb on Sheer-Thursday. And
  • now hast thou seen that thou most desired to see, but yet hast thou not
  • seen it so openly as thou shalt see it in the city of Sarras in the
  • spiritual place. Therefore thou must go hence and bear with thee this
  • Holy Vessel; for this night it shall depart from the realm of Logris,
  • that it shall never be seen more here. And wottest thou wherefore? For
  • he is not served nor worshipped to his right by them of this land, for
  • they be turned to evil living; therefore I shall disherit them of the
  • honour which I have done them. And therefore go ye three to-morrow unto
  • the sea, where ye shall find your ship ready, and with you take the
  • sword with the strange girdles, and no more with you but Sir Percivale
  • and Sir Bors. Also I will that ye take with you of the blood of this
  • spear for to anoint the Maimed King, both his legs and all his body,
  • and he shall have his health. Sir, said Galahad, why shall not these
  • other fellows go with us? For this cause: for right as I departed my
  • apostles one here and another there, so I will that ye depart; and two
  • of you shall die in my service, but one of you shall come again and
  • tell tidings. Then gave he them his blessing and vanished away.
  • CHAPTER XXI. How Galahad anointed with the blood of the spear the
  • Maimed King, and of other adventures.
  • And Galahad went anon to the spear which lay upon the table, and
  • touched the blood with his fingers, and came after to the Maimed King
  • and anointed his legs.
  • And therewith he clothed him anon, and start upon his feet out of his
  • bed as an whole man, and thanked Our Lord that He had healed him. And
  • that was not to the worldward, for anon he yielded him to a place of
  • religion of white monks, and was a full holy man.
  • That same night about midnight came a voice among them which said: My
  • sons and not my chief sons, my friends and not my warriors, go ye hence
  • where ye hope best to do and as I bade you.
  • Ah, thanked’ be Thou, Lord, that Thou wilt vouchsafe to call us, Thy
  • sinners. Now may we well prove that we have not lost our pains.
  • And anon in all haste they took their harness and departed.
  • But the three knights of Gaul, one of them hight Claudine, King
  • Claudas’ son, and the other two were great gentlemen. Then prayed
  • Galahad to everych of them, that if they come to King Arthur’s court
  • that they should salute my lord, Sir Launcelot, my father, and all them
  • of the Round Table; and prayed them if that they came on that part that
  • they should not forget it.
  • Right so departed Galahad, Percivale and Bors with him; and so they
  • rode three days, and then they came to a rivage, and found the ship
  • whereof the tale speaketh of to-fore. And when they came to the board
  • they found in the midst the table of silver which they had left with
  • the Maimed King, and the Sangreal which was covered with red samite.
  • Then were they glad to have such things in their fellowship; and so
  • they entered and made great reverence thereto; and Galahad fell in his
  • prayer long time to Our Lord, that at what time he asked, that he
  • should pass out of this world.
  • So much he prayed till a voice said to him: Galahad, thou shalt have
  • thy request; and when thou askest the death of thy body thou shalt have
  • it, and then shalt thou find the life of the soul.
  • Percivale heard this, and prayed him, of fellowship that was between
  • them, to tell him wherefore he asked such things.
  • That shall I tell you, said Galahad; the other day when we saw a part
  • of the adventures of the Sangreal I was in such a joy of heart, that I
  • trow never man was that was earthly. And therefore I wot well, when my
  • body is dead my soul shall be in great joy to see the blessed Trinity
  • every day, and the majesty of Our Lord, Jesu Christ.
  • So long were they in the ship that they said to Galahad: Sir, in this
  • bed ought ye to lie, for so saith the scripture. And so he laid him
  • down and slept a great while; and when he awaked he looked afore him
  • and saw the city of Sarras. And as they would have landed they saw the
  • ship wherein Percivale had put his sister in. Truly, said Percivale, in
  • the name of God, well hath my sister holden us covenant. Then took they
  • out of the ship the table of silver, and he took it to Percivale and to
  • Bors, to go to-fore, and Galahad came behind. And right so they went to
  • the city, and at the gate of the city they saw an old man crooked. Then
  • Galahad called him and bade him help to bear this heavy thing. Truly,
  • said the old man, it is ten year ago that I might not go but with
  • crutches. Care thou not, said Galahad, and arise up and shew thy good
  • will. And so he assayed, and found himself as whole as ever he was.
  • Than ran he to the table, and took one part against Galahad. And anon
  • arose there great noise in the city, that a cripple was made whole by
  • knights marvellous that entered into the city.
  • Then anon after, the three knights went to the water, and brought up
  • into the palace Percivale’s sister, and buried her as richly as a
  • king’s daughter ought to be. And when the king of the city, which was
  • cleped Estorause, saw the fellowship, he asked them of whence they
  • were, and what thing it was that they had brought upon the table of
  • silver. And they told him the truth of the Sangreal, and the power
  • which that God had sent there. Then the king was a tyrant, and was come
  • of the line of paynims, and took them and put them in prison in a deep
  • hole.
  • CHAPTER XXII. How they were fed with the Sangreal while they were in
  • prison, and how Galahad was made king.
  • But as soon as they were there Our Lord sent them the Sangreal, through
  • whose grace they were always fulfilled while that they were in prison.
  • So at the year’s end it befell that this King Estorause lay sick, and
  • felt that he should die. Then he sent for the three knights, and they
  • came afore him; and he cried them mercy of that he had done to them,
  • and they forgave it him goodly; and he died anon. When the king was
  • dead all the city was dismayed, and wist not who might be their king.
  • Right so as they were in counsel there came a voice among them, and
  • bade them choose the youngest knight of them three to be their king:
  • For he shall well maintain you and all yours. So they made Galahad king
  • by all the assent of the holy city, and else they would have slain him.
  • And when he was come to behold the land, he let make above the table of
  • silver a chest of gold and of precious stones, that hilled the Holy
  • Vessel. And every day early the three fellows would come afore it, and
  • make their prayers.
  • Now at the year’s end, and the self day after Galahad had borne the
  • crown of gold, he arose up early and his fellows, and came to the
  • palace, and saw to-fore them the Holy Vessel, and a man kneeling on his
  • knees in likeness of a bishop, that had about him a great fellowship of
  • angels, as it had been Jesu Christ himself; and then he arose and began
  • a mass of Our Lady. And when he came to the sacrament of the mass, and
  • had done, anon he called Galahad, and said to him: Come forth the
  • servant of Jesu Christ, and thou shalt see that thou hast much desired
  • to see. And then he began to tremble right hard when the deadly flesh
  • began to behold the spiritual things. Then he held up his hands toward
  • heaven and said: Lord, I thank thee, for now I see that that hath been
  • my desire many a day. Now, blessed Lord, would I not longer live, if it
  • might please thee, Lord. And therewith the good man took Our Lord’s
  • body betwixt his hands, and proffered it to Galahad, and he received it
  • right gladly and meekly. Now wottest thou what I am? said the good man.
  • Nay, said Galahad. I am Joseph of Aramathie, the which Our Lord hath
  • sent here to thee to bear thee fellowship; and wottest thou wherefore
  • that he hath sent me more than any other? For thou hast resembled me in
  • two things; in that thou hast seen the marvels of the Sangreal, in that
  • thou hast been a clean maiden, as I have been and am.
  • And when he had said these words Galahad went to Percivale and kissed
  • him, and commended him to God; and so he went to Sir Bors and kissed
  • him, and commended him to God, and said: Fair lord, salute me to my
  • lord, Sir Launcelot, my father, and as soon as ye see him, bid him
  • remember of this unstable world. And therewith he kneeled down to-fore
  • the table and made his prayers, and then suddenly his soul departed to
  • Jesu Christ, and a great multitude of angels bare his soul up to
  • heaven, that the two fellows might well behold it. Also the two fellows
  • saw come from heaven an hand, but they saw not the body. And then it
  • came right to the Vessel, and took it and the spear, and so bare it up
  • to heaven. Sithen was there never man so hardy to say that he had seen
  • the Sangreal.
  • CHAPTER XXIII. Of the sorrow that Percivale and Bors made when Galahad
  • was dead: and of Percivale how he died, and other matters.
  • When Percivale and Bors saw Galahad dead they made as much sorrow as
  • ever did two men. And if they had not been good men they might lightly
  • have fallen in despair. And the people of the country and of the city
  • were right heavy. And then he was buried; and as soon as he was buried
  • Sir Percivale yielded him to an hermitage out of the city, and took a
  • religious clothing. And Bors was alway with him, but never changed he
  • his secular clothing, for that he purposed him to go again into the
  • realm of Logris. Thus a year and two months lived Sir Percivale in the
  • hermitage a full holy life, and then passed out of this world; and Bors
  • let bury him by his sister and by Galahad in the spiritualities.
  • When Bors saw that he was in so far countries as in the parts of
  • Babylon he departed from Sarras, and armed him and came to the sea, and
  • entered into a ship; and so it befell him in good adventure he came
  • into the realm of Logris; and he rode so fast till he came to Camelot
  • where the king was. And then was there great joy made of him in the
  • court, for they weened all he had been dead, forasmuch as he had been
  • so long out of the country. And when they had eaten, the king made
  • great clerks to come afore him, that they should chronicle of the high
  • adventures of the good knights. When Bors had told him of the
  • adventures of the Sangreal, such as had befallen him and his three
  • fellows, that was Launcelot, Percivale, Galahad, and himself, there
  • Launcelot told the adventures of the Sangreal that he had seen. All
  • this was made in great books, and put up in almeries at Salisbury. And
  • anon Sir Bors said to Sir Launcelot: Galahad, your own son, saluted you
  • by me, and after you King Arthur and all the court, and so did Sir
  • Percivale, for I buried them with mine own hands in the city of Sarras.
  • Also, Sir Launcelot, Galahad prayed you to remember of this unsiker
  • world as ye behight him when ye were together more than half a year.
  • This is true, said Launcelot; now I trust to God his prayer shall avail
  • me.
  • Then Launcelot took Sir Bors in his arms, and said: Gentle cousin, ye
  • are right welcome to me, and all that ever I may do for you and for
  • yours ye shall find my poor body ready at all times, while the spirit
  • is in it, and that I promise you faithfully, and never to fail. And wit
  • ye well, gentle cousin, Sir Bors, that ye and I will never depart
  • asunder whilst our lives may last. Sir, said he, I will as ye will.
  • _Thus endeth the history of the Sangreal, that was briefly drawn out of
  • French into English, the which is a story chronicled for one of the
  • truest and the holiest that is in this world, the which is the xvii
  • book._
  • _And here followeth the eighteenth book._
  • BOOK XVIII.
  • CHAPTER I. Of the joy King Arthur and the queen had of the achievement
  • of the Sangreal; and how Launcelot fell to his old love again.
  • So after the quest of the Sangreal was fulfilled, and all knights that
  • were left alive were come again unto the Table Round, as the book of
  • the Sangreal maketh mention, then was there great joy in the court; and
  • in especial King Arthur and Queen Guenever made great joy of the
  • remnant that were come home, and passing glad was the king and the
  • queen of Sir Launcelot and of Sir Bors, for they had been passing long
  • away in the quest of the Sangreal.
  • Then, as the book saith, Sir Launcelot began to resort unto Queen
  • Guenever again, and forgat the promise and the perfection that he made
  • in the quest. For, as the book saith, had not Sir Launcelot been in his
  • privy thoughts and in his mind so set inwardly to the queen as he was
  • in seeming outward to God, there had no knight passed him in the quest
  • of the Sangreal; but ever his thoughts were privily on the queen, and
  • so they loved together more hotter than they did to-forehand, and had
  • such privy draughts together, that many in the court spake of it, and
  • in especial Sir Agravaine, Sir Gawaine’s brother, for he was ever
  • open-mouthed.
  • So befell that Sir Launcelot had many resorts of ladies and damosels
  • that daily resorted unto him, that besought him to be their champion,
  • and in all such matters of right Sir Launcelot applied him daily to do
  • for the pleasure of Our Lord, Jesu Christ. And ever as much as he might
  • he withdrew him from the company and fellowship of Queen Guenever, for
  • to eschew the slander and noise; wherefore the queen waxed wroth with
  • Sir Launcelot. And upon a day she called Sir Launcelot unto her
  • chamber, and said thus: Sir Launcelot, I see and feel daily that thy
  • love beginneth to slake, for thou hast no joy to be in my presence, but
  • ever thou art out of this court, and quarrels and matters thou hast
  • nowadays for ladies and gentlewomen more than ever thou wert wont to
  • have aforehand.
  • Ah madam, said Launcelot, in this ye must hold me excused for divers
  • causes; one is, I was but late in the quest of the Sangreal; and I
  • thank God of his great mercy, and never of my desert, that I saw in
  • that my quest as much as ever saw any sinful man, and so was it told
  • me. And if I had not had my privy thoughts to return to your love again
  • as I do, I had seen as great mysteries as ever saw my son Galahad,
  • outher Percivale, or Sir Bors; and therefore, madam, I was but late in
  • that quest. Wit ye well, madam, it may not be yet lightly forgotten the
  • high service in whom I did my diligent labour. Also, madam, wit ye well
  • that there be many men speak of our love in this court, and have you
  • and me greatly in await, as Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred; and madam,
  • wit ye well I dread them more for your sake than for any fear I have of
  • them myself, for I may happen to escape and rid myself in a great need,
  • where ye must abide all that will be said unto you. And then if that ye
  • fall in any distress through wilful folly, then is there none other
  • remedy or help but by me and my blood. And wit ye well, madam, the
  • boldness of you and me will bring us to great shame and slander; and
  • that were me loath to see you dishonoured. And that is the cause I take
  • upon me more for to do for damosels and maidens than ever I did
  • to-fore, that men should understand my joy and my delight is my
  • pleasure to have ado for damosels and maidens.
  • CHAPTER II. How the queen commanded Sir Launcelot to avoid the court,
  • and of the sorrow that Launcelot made.
  • All this while the queen stood still and let Sir Launcelot say what he
  • would. And when he had all said she brast out a-weeping, and so she
  • sobbed and wept a great while. And when she might speak she said:
  • Launcelot, now I well understand that thou art a false recreant knight
  • and a common lecher, and lovest and holdest other ladies, and by me
  • thou hast disdain and scorn. For wit thou well, she said, now I
  • understand thy falsehood, and therefore shall I never love thee no
  • more. And never be thou so hardy to come in my sight; and right here I
  • discharge thee this court, that thou never come within it; and I
  • forfend thee my fellowship, and upon pain of thy head that thou see me
  • no more. Right so Sir Launcelot departed with great heaviness, that
  • unnethe he might sustain himself for great dole-making.
  • Then he called Sir Bors, Sir Ector de Maris, and Sir Lionel, and told
  • them how the queen had forfended him the court, and so he was in will
  • to depart into his own country. Fair sir, said Sir Bors de Ganis, ye
  • shall not depart out of this land by mine advice. Ye must remember in
  • what honour ye are renowned, and called the noblest knight of the
  • world; and many great matters ye have in hand. And women in their
  • hastiness will do ofttimes that sore repenteth them; and therefore by
  • mine advice ye shall take your horse, and ride to the good hermitage
  • here beside Windsor, that sometime was a good knight, his name is Sir
  • Brasias, and there shall ye abide till I send you word of better
  • tidings. Brother, said Sir Launcelot, wit ye well I am full loath to
  • depart out of this realm, but the queen hath defended me so highly,
  • that meseemeth she will never be my good lady as she hath been. Say ye
  • never so, said Sir Bors, for many times or this time she hath been
  • wroth with you, and after it she was the first that repented it. Ye say
  • well, said Launcelot, for now will I do by your counsel, and take mine
  • horse and my harness, and ride to the hermit Sir Brasias, and there
  • will I repose me until I hear some manner of tidings from you; but,
  • fair brother, I pray you get me the love of my lady, Queen Guenever, an
  • ye may Sir, said Sir Bors, ye need not to move me of such matters, for
  • well ye wot I will do what I may to please you.
  • And then the noble knight, Sir Launcelot, departed with right heavy
  • cheer suddenly, that none earthly creature wist of him, nor where he
  • was become, but Sir Bors. So when Sir Launcelot was departed, the queen
  • outward made no manner of sorrow in showing to none of his blood nor to
  • none other. But wit ye well, inwardly, as the book saith, she took
  • great thought, but she bare it out with a proud countenance as though
  • she felt nothing nor danger.
  • CHAPTER III. How at a dinner that the queen made there was a knight
  • enpoisoned, which Sir Mador laid on the queen.
  • And then the queen let make a privy dinner in London unto the knights
  • of the Round Table. And all was for to show outward that she had as
  • great joy in all other knights of the Table Round as she had in Sir
  • Launcelot. All only at that dinner she had Sir Gawaine and his
  • brethren, that is for to say Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, Sir Gareth,
  • and Sir Mordred. Also there was Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Blamore de
  • Ganis, Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Ector de
  • Maris, Sir Lionel, Sir Palomides, Safere his brother, Sir La Cote Male
  • Taile, Sir Persant, Sir Ironside, Sir Brandiles, Sir Kay le Seneschal,
  • Sir Mador de la Porte, Sir Patrise, a knight of Ireland, Aliduk, Sir
  • Astamore, and Sir Pinel le Savage, the which was cousin to Sir Lamorak
  • de Galis, the good knight that Sir Gawaine and his brethren slew by
  • treason. And so these four-and-twenty knights should dine with the
  • queen in a privy place by themself, and there was made a great feast of
  • all manner of dainties.
  • But Sir Gawaine had a custom that he used daily at dinner and at
  • supper, that he loved well all manner of fruit, and in especial apples
  • and pears. And therefore whosomever dined or feasted Sir Gawaine would
  • commonly purvey for good fruit for him, and so did the queen for to
  • please Sir Gawaine; she let purvey for him all manner of fruit, for Sir
  • Gawaine was a passing hot knight of nature. And this Pinel hated Sir
  • Gawaine because of his kinsman Sir Lamorak de Galis; and therefore for
  • pure envy and hate Sir Pinel enpoisoned certain apples for to enpoison
  • Sir Gawaine. And so this was well unto the end of the meat; and so it
  • befell by misfortune a good knight named Patrise, cousin unto Sir Mador
  • de la Porte, to take a poisoned apple. And when he had eaten it he
  • swelled so till he brast, and there Sir Patrise fell down suddenly dead
  • among them.
  • Then every knight leapt from the board ashamed, and araged for wrath,
  • nigh out of their wits. For they wist not what to say; considering
  • Queen Guenever made the feast and dinner, they all had suspicion unto
  • her. My lady, the queen, said Gawaine, wit ye well, madam, that this
  • dinner was made for me, for all folks that know my condition understand
  • that I love well fruit, and now I see well I had near been slain;
  • therefore, madam, I dread me lest ye will be shamed. Then the queen
  • stood still and was sore abashed, that she nist not what to say. This
  • shall not so be ended, said Sir Mador de la Porte, for here have I lost
  • a full noble knight of my blood; and therefore upon this shame and
  • despite I will be revenged to the utterance. And there openly Sir Mador
  • appealed the queen of the death of his cousin, Sir Patrise. Then stood
  • they all still, that none would speak a word against him, for they all
  • had great suspicion unto the queen because she let make that dinner.
  • And the queen was so abashed that she could none other ways do, but
  • wept so heartily that she fell in a swoon. With this noise and cry came
  • to them King Arthur, and when he wist of that trouble he was a passing
  • heavy man.
  • CHAPTER IV. How Sir Mador appeached the queen of treason, and there was
  • no knight would fight for her at the first time.
  • And ever Sir Mador stood still afore the king, and ever he appealed the
  • queen of treason; for the custom was such that time that all manner of
  • shameful death was called treason. Fair lords, said King Arthur, me
  • repenteth of this trouble, but the case is so I may not have ado in
  • this matter, for I must be a rightful judge; and that repenteth me that
  • I may not do battle for my wife, for as I deem this deed came never by
  • her. And therefore I suppose she shall not be all distained, but that
  • some good knight shall put his body in jeopardy for my queen rather
  • than she shall be brent in a wrong quarrel. And therefore, Sir Mador,
  • be not so hasty, for it may happen she shall not be all friendless; and
  • therefore desire thou thy day of battle, and she shall purvey her of
  • some good knight that shall answer you, or else it were to me great
  • shame, and to all my court.
  • My gracious lord, said Sir Mador, ye must hold me excused, for though
  • ye be our king in that degree, ye are but a knight as we are, and ye
  • are sworn unto knighthood as well as we; and therefore I beseech you
  • that ye be not displeased, for there is none of the four-and-twenty
  • knights that were bidden to this dinner but all they have great
  • suspicion unto the queen. What say ye all, my lords? said Sir Mador.
  • Then they answered by and by that they could not excuse the queen; for
  • why she made the dinner, and either it must come by her or by her
  • servants. Alas, said the queen, I made this dinner for a good intent,
  • and never for none evil, so Almighty God me help in my right, as I was
  • never purposed to do such evil deeds, and that I report me unto God.
  • My lord, the king, said Sir Mador, I require you as ye be a righteous
  • king give me a day that I may have justice. Well, said the king, I give
  • the day this day fifteen days that thou be ready armed on horseback in
  • the meadow beside Westminster. And if it so fall that there be any
  • knight to encounter with you, there mayst thou do the best, and God
  • speed the right. And if it so fall that there be no knight at that day,
  • then must my queen be burnt, and there she shall be ready to have her
  • judgment. I am answered, said Sir Mador. And every knight went where it
  • liked them.
  • So when the king and the queen were together the king asked the queen
  • how this case befell. The queen answered: So God me help, I wot not how
  • or in what manner. Where is Sir Launcelot? said King Arthur; an he were
  • here he would not grudge to do battle for you. Sir, said the queen, I
  • wot not where he is, but his brother and his kinsmen deem that he be
  • not within this realm. That me repenteth, said King Arthur, for an he
  • were here he would soon stint this strife. Then I will counsel you,
  • said the king, and unto Sir Bors: That ye will do battle for her for
  • Sir Launcelot’s sake, and upon my life he will not refuse you. For well
  • I see, said the king, that none of these four-and-twenty knights that
  • were with you at your dinner where Sir Patrise was slain, that will do
  • battle for you, nor none of them will say well of you, and that shall
  • be a great slander for you in this court. Alas, said the queen, and I
  • may not do withal, but now I miss Sir Launcelot, for an he were here he
  • would put me soon to my heart’s ease. What aileth you, said the king,
  • ye cannot keep Sir Launcelot upon your side? For wit ye well, said the
  • king, who that hath Sir Launcelot upon his part hath the most man of
  • worship in the world upon his side. Now go your way, said the king unto
  • the queen, and require Sir Bors to do battle for you for Sir
  • Launcelot’s sake.
  • CHAPTER V. How the queen required Sir Bors to fight for her, and how he
  • granted upon condition; and how he warned Sir Launcelot thereof.
  • So the queen departed from the king, and sent for Sir Bors into her
  • chamber. And when he was come she besought him of succour. Madam, said
  • he, what would ye that I did? for I may not with my worship have ado in
  • this matter, because I was at the same dinner, for dread that any of
  • those knights would have me in suspicion. Also, madam, said Sir Bors,
  • now miss ye Sir Launcelot, for he would not have failed you neither in
  • right nor in wrong, as ye have well proved when ye have been in danger;
  • and now ye have driven him out of this country, by whom ye and all we
  • were daily worshipped by; therefore, madam, I marvel how ye dare for
  • shame require me to do any thing for you, in so much ye have chased him
  • out of your country by whom we were borne up and honoured. Alas, fair
  • knight, said the queen, I put me wholly in your grace, and all that is
  • done amiss I will amend as ye will counsel me. And therewith she
  • kneeled down upon both her knees, and besought Sir Bors to have mercy
  • upon her: Outher I shall have a shameful death, and thereto I never
  • offended.
  • Right so came King Arthur, and found the queen kneeling afore Sir Bors;
  • then Sir Bors pulled her up, and said: Madam, ye do me great dishonour.
  • Ah, gentle knight, said the king, have mercy upon my queen, courteous
  • knight, for I am now in certain she is untruly defamed. And therefore,
  • courteous knight, said the king, promise her to do battle for her, I
  • require you for the love of Sir Launcelot. My lord, said Sir Bors, ye
  • require me the greatest thing that any man may require me; and wit ye
  • well if I grant to do battle for the queen I shall wrath many of my
  • fellowship of the Table Round. But as for that, said Bors, I will grant
  • my lord that for my lord Sir Launcelot’s sake, and for your sake I will
  • at that day be the queen’s champion unless that there come by adventure
  • a better knight than I am to do battle for her. Will ye promise me
  • this, said the king, by your faith? Yea sir, said Sir Bors, of that I
  • will not fail you, nor her both, but if there come a better knight than
  • I am, and then shall he have the battle. Then was the king and the
  • queen passing glad, and so departed, and thanked him heartily.
  • So then Sir Bors departed secretly upon a day, and rode unto Sir
  • Launcelot thereas he was with the hermit, Sir Brasias, and told him of
  • all their adventure. Ah Jesu, said Sir Launcelot, this is come happily
  • as I would have it, and therefore I pray you make you ready to do
  • battle, but look that ye tarry till ye see me come, as long as ye may.
  • For I am sure Mador is an hot knight when he is enchafed, for the more
  • ye suffer him the hastier will he be to battle. Sir, said Bors, let me
  • deal with him, doubt ye not ye shall have all your will. Then departed
  • Sir Bors from him and came to the court again. Then was it noised in
  • all the court that Sir Bors should do battle for the queen; wherefore
  • many knights were displeased with him, that he would take upon him to
  • do battle in the queen’s quarrel; for there were but few knights in all
  • the court but they deemed the queen was in the wrong, and that she had
  • done that treason.
  • So Sir Bors answered thus to his fellows of the Table Round: Wit ye
  • well, my fair lords, it were shame to us all an we suffered to see the
  • most noble queen of the world to be shamed openly, considering her lord
  • and our lord is the man of most worship in the world, and most
  • christened, and he hath ever worshipped us all in all places. Many
  • answered him again: As for our most noble King Arthur, we love him and
  • honour him as well as ye do, but as for Queen Guenever we love her not,
  • because she is a destroyer of good knights. Fair lords, said Sir Bors,
  • meseemeth ye say not as ye should say, for never yet in my days knew I
  • never nor heard say that ever she was a destroyer of any good knight.
  • But at all times as far as ever I could know she was a maintainer of
  • good knights; and ever she hath been large and free of her goods to all
  • good knights, and the most bounteous lady of her gifts and her good
  • grace, that ever I saw or heard speak of. And therefore it were shame,
  • said Sir Bors, to us all to our most noble king’s wife, an we suffered
  • her to be shamefully slain. And wit ye well, said Sir Bors, I will not
  • suffer it, for I dare say so much, the queen is not guilty of Sir
  • Patrise’s death, for she owed him never none ill will, nor none of the
  • four-and-twenty knights that were at that dinner; for I dare say for
  • good love she bade us to dinner, and not for no mal engine, and that I
  • doubt not shall be proved hereafter, for howsomever the game goeth,
  • there was treason among us. Then some said to Sir Bors: We may well
  • believe your words. And so some of them were well pleased, and some
  • were not so.
  • CHAPTER VI. How at the day Sir Bors made him ready for to fight for the
  • queen; and when he would fight how another discharged him.
  • The day came on fast until the even that the battle should be. Then the
  • queen sent for Sir Bors and asked him how he was disposed. Truly madam,
  • said he, I am disposed in likewise as I promised you, that is for to
  • say I shall not fail you, unless by adventure there come a better
  • knight than I am to do battle for you, then, madam, am I discharged of
  • my promise. Will ye, said the queen, that I tell my lord Arthur thus?
  • Do as it shall please you, madam. Then the queen went unto the king and
  • told him the answer of Sir Bors. Have ye no doubt, said the king, of
  • Sir Bors, for I call him now one of the best knights of the world, and
  • the most profitablest man. And thus it passed on until the morn, and
  • the king and the queen and all manner of knights that were there at
  • that time drew them unto the meadow beside Westminster where the battle
  • should be. And so when the king was come with the queen and many
  • knights of the Round Table, then the queen was put there in the
  • Constable’s ward, and a great fire made about an iron stake, that an
  • Sir Mador de la Porte had the better, she should be burnt: such custom
  • was used in those days, that neither for favour, neither for love nor
  • affinity, there should be none other but righteous judgment, as well
  • upon a king as upon a knight, and as well upon a queen as upon another
  • poor lady.
  • So in this meanwhile came in Sir Mador de la Porte, and took his oath
  • afore the king, that the queen did this treason until his cousin Sir
  • Patrise, and unto his oath he would prove it with his body, hand for
  • hand, who that would say the contrary. Right so came in Sir Bors de
  • Ganis, and said: That as for Queen Guenever she is in the right, and
  • that will I make good with my hands that she is not culpable of this
  • treason that is put upon her. Then make thee ready, said Sir Mador, and
  • we shall prove whether thou be in the right or I. Sir Mador, said Sir
  • Bors, wit thou well I know you for a good knight. Not for then I shall
  • not fear you so greatly, but I trust to God I shall be able to
  • withstand your malice. But this much have I promised my lord Arthur and
  • my lady the queen, that I shall do battle for her in this case to the
  • uttermost, unless that there come a better knight than I am and
  • discharge me. Is that all? said Sir Mador, either come thou off and do
  • battle with me, or else say nay. Take your horse, said Sir Bors, and as
  • I suppose, ye shall not tarry long but ye shall be answered.
  • Then either departed to their tents and made them ready to horseback as
  • they thought best. And anon Sir Mador came into the field with his
  • shield on his shoulder and his spear in his hand; and so rode about the
  • place crying unto Arthur: Bid your champion come forth an he dare. Then
  • was Sir Bors ashamed and took his horse and came to the lists’ end. And
  • then was he ware where came from a wood there fast by a knight all
  • armed, upon a white horse, with a strange shield of strange arms; and
  • he came riding all that he might run, and so he came to Sir Bors, and
  • said thus: Fair knight, I pray you be not displeased, for here must a
  • better knight than ye are have this battle, therefore I pray you
  • withdraw you. For wit ye well I have had this day a right great
  • journey, and this battle ought to be mine, and so I promised you when I
  • spake with you last, and with all my heart I thank you of your good
  • will. Then Sir Bors rode unto King Arthur and told him how there was a
  • knight come that would have the battle for to fight for the queen. What
  • knight is he? said the king. I wot not, said Sir Bors, but such
  • covenant he made with me to be here this day. Now my lord, said Sir
  • Bors, here am I discharged.
  • CHAPTER VII. How Sir Launcelot fought against Sir Mador for the queen,
  • and how he overcame Sir Mador, and discharged the queen.
  • Then the king called to that knight, and asked him if he would fight
  • for the queen. Then he answered to the king: Therefore came I hither,
  • and therefore, sir king, he said, tarry me no longer, for I may not
  • tarry. For anon as I have finished this battle I must depart hence, for
  • I have ado many matters elsewhere. For wit you well, said that knight,
  • this is dishonour to you all knights of the Round Table, to see and
  • know so noble a lady and so courteous a queen as Queen Guenever is,
  • thus to be rebuked and shamed amongst you. Then they all marvelled what
  • knight that might be that so took the battle upon him. For there was
  • not one that knew him, but if it were Sir Bors.
  • Then said Sir Mador de la Porte unto the king: Now let me wit with whom
  • I shall have ado withal. And then they rode to the lists’ end, and
  • there they couched their spears, and ran together with all their might,
  • and Sir Mador’s spear brake all to pieces, but the other’s spear held,
  • and bare Sir Mador’s horse and all backward to the earth a great fall.
  • But mightily and suddenly he avoided his horse and put his shield afore
  • him, and then drew his sword, and bade the other knight alight and do
  • battle with him on foot. Then that knight descended from his horse
  • lightly like a valiant man, and put his shield afore him and drew his
  • sword; and so they came eagerly unto battle, and either gave other many
  • great strokes, tracing and traversing, racing and foining, and hurtling
  • together with their swords as it were wild boars. Thus were they
  • fighting nigh an hour, for this Sir Mador was a strong knight, and
  • mightily proved in many strong battles. But at the last this knight
  • smote Sir Mador grovelling upon the earth, and the knight stepped near
  • him to have pulled Sir Mador flatling upon the ground; and therewith
  • suddenly Sir Mador arose, and in his rising he smote that knight
  • through the thick of the thighs that the blood ran out fiercely. And
  • when he felt himself so wounded, and saw his blood, he let him arise
  • upon his feet. And then he gave him such a buffet upon the helm that he
  • fell to the earth flatling, and therewith he strode to him to have
  • pulled off his helm off his head. And then Sir Mador prayed that knight
  • to save his life, and so he yielded him as overcome, and released the
  • queen of his quarrel. I will not grant thee thy life, said that knight,
  • only that thou freely release the queen for ever, and that no mention
  • be made upon Sir Patrise’s tomb that ever Queen Guenever consented to
  • that treason. All this shall be done, said Sir Mador, I clearly
  • discharge my quarrel for ever.
  • Then the knights parters of the lists took up Sir Mador, and led him to
  • his tent, and the other knight went straight to the stair-foot where
  • sat King Arthur; and by that time was the queen come to the king, and
  • either kissed other heartily. And when the king saw that knight, he
  • stooped down to him, and thanked him, and in likewise did the queen;
  • and the king prayed him to put off his helmet, and to repose him, and
  • to take a sop of wine. And then he put off his helm to drink, and then
  • every knight knew him that it was Sir Launcelot du Lake. Anon as the
  • king wist that, he took the queen in his hand, and yode unto Sir
  • Launcelot, and said: Sir, grant mercy of your great travail that ye
  • have had this day for me and for my queen. My lord, said Sir Launcelot,
  • wit ye well I ought of right ever to be in your quarrel, and in my lady
  • the queen’s quarrel, to do battle; for ye are the man that gave me the
  • high order of knighthood, and that day my lady, your queen, did me
  • great worship, and else I had been shamed; for that same day ye made me
  • knight, through my hastiness I lost my sword, and my lady, your queen,
  • found it, and lapped it in her train, and gave me my sword when I had
  • need thereto, and else had I been shamed among all knights; and
  • therefore, my lord Arthur, I promised her at that day ever to be her
  • knight in right outher in wrong. Grant mercy, said the king, for this
  • journey; and wit ye well, said the king, I shall acquit your goodness.
  • And ever the queen beheld Sir Launcelot, and wept so tenderly that she
  • sank almost to the ground for sorrow that he had done to her so great
  • goodness where she shewed him great unkindness. Then the knights of his
  • blood drew unto him, and there either of them made great joy of other.
  • And so came all the knights of the Table Round that were there at that
  • time, and welcomed him. And then Sir Mador was had to leech-craft, and
  • Sir Launcelot was healed of his wound. And then there was made great
  • joy and mirths in that court.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How the truth was known by the Maiden of the Lake, and of
  • divers other matters.
  • And so it befell that the damosel of the lake, her name was Nimue, the
  • which wedded the good knight Sir Pelleas, and so she came to the court;
  • for ever she did great goodness unto King Arthur and to all his knights
  • through her sorcery and enchantments. And so when she heard how the
  • queen was an-angered for the death of Sir Patrise, then she told it
  • openly that she was never guilty; and there she disclosed by whom it
  • was done, and named him, Sir Pinel; and for what cause he did it, there
  • it was openly disclosed; and so the queen was excused, and the knight
  • Pinel fled into his country. Then was it openly known that Sir Pinel
  • enpoisoned the apples at the feast to that intent to have destroyed Sir
  • Gawaine, because Sir Gawaine and his brethren destroyed Sir Lamorak de
  • Galis, to the which Sir Pinel was cousin unto. Then was Sir Patrise
  • buried in the church of Westminster in a tomb, and thereupon was
  • written: Here lieth Sir Patrise of Ireland, slain by Sir Pinel le
  • Savage, that enpoisoned apples to have slain Sir Gawaine, and by
  • misfortune Sir Patrise ate one of those apples, and then suddenly he
  • brast. Also there was written upon the tomb that Queen Guenever was
  • appealed of treason of the death of Sir Patrise, by Sir Mador de la
  • Porte; and there was made mention how Sir Launcelot fought with him for
  • Queen Guenever, and overcame him in plain battle. All this was written
  • upon the tomb of Sir Patrise in excusing of the queen. And then Sir
  • Mador sued daily and long, to have the queen’s good grace; and so by
  • the means of Sir Launcelot he caused him to stand in the queen’s good
  • grace, and all was forgiven
  • Thus it passed on till our Lady Day, Assumption. Within a fifteen days
  • of that feast the king let cry a great jousts and a tournament that
  • should be at that day at Camelot, that is Winchester; and the king let
  • cry that he and the King of Scots would joust against all that would
  • come against them. And when this cry was made, thither came many
  • knights. So there came thither the King of Northgalis, and King Anguish
  • of Ireland, and the King with the Hundred Knights, and Galahad, the
  • haut prince, and the King of Northumberland, and many other noble dukes
  • and earls of divers countries. So King Arthur made him ready to depart
  • to these jousts, and would have had the queen with him, but at that
  • time she would not, she said, for she was sick and might not ride at
  • that time. That me repenteth, said the king, for this seven year ye saw
  • not such a noble fellowship together except at Whitsuntide when Galahad
  • departed from the court. Truly, said the queen to the king, ye must
  • hold me excused, I may not be there, and that me repenteth. And many
  • deemed the queen would not be there because of Sir Launcelot du Lake,
  • for Sir Launcelot would not ride with the king, for he said that he was
  • not whole of the wound the which Sir Mador had given him; wherefore the
  • king was heavy and passing wroth. And so he departed toward Winchester
  • with his fellowship; and so by the way the king lodged in a town called
  • Astolat, that is now in English called Guildford, and there the king
  • lay in the castle.
  • So when the king was departed the queen called Sir Launcelot to her,
  • and said thus: Sir Launcelot, ye are greatly to blame thus to hold you
  • behind my lord; what, trow ye, what will your enemies and mine say and
  • deem? nought else but, See how Sir Launcelot holdeth him ever behind
  • the king, and so doth the queen, for that they would have their
  • pleasure together. And thus will they say, said the queen to Sir
  • Launcelot, have ye no doubt thereof.
  • CHAPTER IX. How Sir Launcelot rode to Astolat, and received a sleeve to
  • wear upon his helm at the request of a maid.
  • Madam, said Sir Launcelot, I allow your wit, it is of late come since
  • ye were wise. And therefore, madam, at this time I will be ruled by
  • your counsel, and this night I will take my rest, and to-morrow by time
  • I will take my way toward Winchester. But wit you well, said Sir
  • Launcelot to the queen, that at that jousts I will be against the king,
  • and against all his fellowship. Ye may there do as ye list, said the
  • queen, but by my counsel ye shall not be against your king and your
  • fellowship. For therein be full many hard knights of your blood, as ye
  • wot well enough, it needeth not to rehearse them. Madam, said Sir
  • Launcelot, I pray you that ye be not displeased with me, for I will
  • take the adventure that God will send me.
  • And so upon the morn early Sir Launcelot heard mass and brake his fast,
  • and so took his leave of the queen and departed. And then he rode so
  • much until he came to Astolat, that is Guildford; and there it happed
  • him in the eventide he came to an old baron’s place that hight Sir
  • Bernard of Astolat. And as Sir Launcelot entered into his lodging, King
  • Arthur espied him as he did walk in a garden beside the castle, how he
  • took his lodging, and knew him full well. It is well, said King Arthur
  • unto the knights that were with him in that garden beside the castle, I
  • have now espied one knight that will play his play at the jousts to the
  • which we be gone toward; I undertake he will do marvels. Who is that,
  • we pray you tell us? said many knights that were there at that time. Ye
  • shall not wit for me, said the king, as at this time. And so the king
  • smiled, and went to his lodging.
  • So when Sir Launcelot was in his lodging, and unarmed him in his
  • chamber, the old baron and hermit came to him making his reverence, and
  • welcomed him in the best manner; but the old knight knew not Sir
  • Launcelot. Fair sir, said Sir Launcelot to his host, I would pray you
  • to lend me a shield that were not openly known, for mine is well known.
  • Sir, said his host, ye shall have your desire, for meseemeth ye be one
  • of the likeliest knights of the world, and therefore I shall shew you
  • friendship. Sir, wit you well I have two sons that were but late made
  • knights, and the eldest hight Sir Tirre, and he was hurt that same day
  • he was made knight, that he may not ride, and his shield ye shall have;
  • for that is not known I dare say but here, and in no place else. And my
  • youngest son hight Lavaine, and if it please you, he shall ride with
  • you unto that jousts; and he is of his age strong and wight, for much
  • my heart giveth unto you that ye should be a noble knight, therefore I
  • pray you, tell me your name, said Sir Bernard. As for that, said Sir
  • Launcelot, ye must hold me excused as at this time, and if God give me
  • grace to speed well at the jousts I shall come again and tell you. But
  • I pray you, said Sir Launcelot, in any wise let me have your son, Sir
  • Lavaine, with me, and that I may have his brother’s shield. All this
  • shall be done, said Sir Bernard.
  • This old baron had a daughter that was called that time the Fair Maiden
  • of Astolat. And ever she beheld Sir Launcelot wonderfully; and as the
  • book saith, she cast such a love unto Sir Launcelot that she could
  • never withdraw her love, wherefore she died, and her name was Elaine le
  • Blank. So thus as she came to and fro she was so hot in her love that
  • she besought Sir Launcelot to wear upon him at the jousts a token of
  • hers. Fair damosel, said Sir Launcelot, an if I grant you that, ye may
  • say I do more for your love than ever I did for lady or damosel. Then
  • he remembered him he would go to the jousts disguised. And because he
  • had never fore that time borne no manner of token of no damosel, then
  • he bethought him that he would bear one of her, that none of his blood
  • thereby might know him, and then he said: Fair maiden, I will grant you
  • to wear a token of yours upon mine helmet, and therefore what it is,
  • shew it me. Sir, she said, it is a red sleeve of mine, of scarlet, well
  • embroidered with great pearls: and so she brought it him. So Sir
  • Launcelot received it, and said: Never did I erst so much for no
  • damosel. And then Sir Launcelot betook the fair maiden his shield in
  • keeping, and prayed her to keep that until that he came again; and so
  • that night he had merry rest and great cheer, for ever the damosel
  • Elaine was about Sir Launcelot all the while she might be suffered.
  • CHAPTER X. How the tourney began at Winchester, and what knights were
  • at the jousts; and other things.
  • So upon a day, on the morn, King Arthur and all his knights departed,
  • for their king had tarried three days to abide his noble knights. And
  • so when the king was ridden, Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine made them
  • ready to ride, and either of them had white shields, and the red sleeve
  • Sir Launcelot let carry with him. And so they took their leave at Sir
  • Bernard, the old baron, and at his daughter, the Fair Maiden of
  • Astolat. And then they rode so long till that they came to Camelot,
  • that time called Winchester; and there was great press of kings, dukes
  • earls, and barons, and many noble knights. But there Sir Launcelot was
  • lodged privily by the means of Sir Lavaine with a rich burgess, that no
  • man in that town was ware what they were. And so they reposed them
  • there till our Lady Day, Assumption, as the great feast should be. So
  • then trumpets blew unto the field, and King Arthur was set on high upon
  • a scaffold to behold who did best. But as the French book saith, the
  • king would not suffer Sir Gawaine to go from him, for never had Sir
  • Gawaine the better an Sir Launcelot were in the field; and many times
  • was Sir Gawaine rebuked when Launcelot came into any jousts disguised.
  • Then some of the kings, as King Anguish of Ireland and the King of
  • Scots, were that time turned upon the side of King Arthur. And then on
  • the other party was the King of Northgalis, and the King with the
  • Hundred Knights, and the King of Northumberland, and Sir Galahad, the
  • haut prince. But these three kings and this duke were passing weak to
  • hold against King Arthur’s party, for with him were the noblest knights
  • of the world. So then they withdrew them either party from other, and
  • every man made him ready in his best manner to do what he might.
  • Then Sir Launcelot made him ready, and put the red sleeve upon his
  • head, and fastened it fast; and so Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine
  • departed out of Winchester privily, and rode until a little leaved wood
  • behind the party that held against King Arthur’s party, and there they
  • held them still till the parties smote together. And then came in the
  • King of Scots and the King of Ireland on Arthur’s party, and against
  • them came the King of Northumberland, and the King with the Hundred
  • Knights smote down the King of Northumberland, and the King with the
  • Hundred Knights smote down King Anguish of Ireland. Then Sir Palomides
  • that was on Arthur’s party encountered with Sir Galahad, and either of
  • them smote down other, and either party halp their lords on horseback
  • again. So there began a strong assail upon both parties. And then came
  • in Sir Brandiles, Sir Sagramore le Desirous, Sir Dodinas le Savage, Sir
  • Kay le Seneschal, Sir Griflet le Fise de Dieu, Sir Mordred, Sir Meliot
  • de Logris, Sir Ozanna le Cure Hardy, Sir Safere, Sir Epinogris, Sir
  • Galleron of Galway. All these fifteen knights were knights of the Table
  • Round. So these with more other came in together, and beat aback the
  • King of Northumberland and the King of Northgalis. When Sir Launcelot
  • saw this, as he hoved in a little leaved wood, then he said unto Sir
  • Lavaine: See yonder is a company of good knights, and they hold them
  • together as boars that were chafed with dogs. That is truth, said Sir
  • Lavaine.
  • CHAPTER XI. How Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine entered in the field
  • against them of King Arthur’s court, and how Launcelot was hurt.
  • Now, said Sir Launcelot, an ye will help me a little, ye shall see
  • yonder fellowship that chaseth now these men in our side, that they
  • shall go as fast backward as they went forward. Sir, spare not, said
  • Sir Lavaine, for I shall do what I may. Then Sir Launcelot and Sir
  • Lavaine came in at the thickest of the press, and there Sir Launcelot
  • smote down Sir Brandiles, Sir Sagramore, Sir Dodinas, Sir Kay, Sir
  • Griflet, and all this he did with one spear; and Sir Lavaine smote down
  • Sir Lucan le Butler and Sir Bedevere. And then Sir Launcelot gat
  • another spear, and there he smote down Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, and
  • Sir Mordred, and Sir Meliot de Logris; and Sir Lavaine smote Ozanna le
  • Cure Hardy. And then Sir Launcelot drew his sword, and there he smote
  • on the right hand and on the left hand, and by great force he unhorsed
  • Sir Safere, Sir Epinogris, and Sir Galleron; and then the knights of
  • the Table Round withdrew them aback, after they had gotten their horses
  • as well as they might. O mercy Jesu, said Sir Gawaine, what knight is
  • yonder that doth so marvellous deeds of arms in that field? I wot well
  • what he is, said King Arthur, but as at this time I will not name him.
  • Sir, said Sir Gawaine, I would say it were Sir Launcelot by his riding
  • and his buffets that I see him deal, but ever meseemeth it should not
  • be he, for that he beareth the red sleeve upon his head; for I wist him
  • never bear token at no jousts, of lady nor gentlewoman. Let him be,
  • said King Arthur, he will be better known, and do more, or ever he
  • depart.
  • Then the party that was against King Arthur were well comforted, and
  • then they held them together that beforehand were sore rebuked. Then
  • Sir Bors, Sir Ector de Maris, and Sir Lionel called unto them the
  • knights of their blood, as Sir Blamore de Ganis, Sir Bleoberis, Sir
  • Aliduke, Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Bellangere le Beuse. So these
  • nine knights of Sir Launcelot’s kin thrust in mightily, for they were
  • all noble knights; and they, of great hate and despite that they had
  • unto him, thought to rebuke that noble knight Sir Launcelot, and Sir
  • Lavaine, for they knew them not; and so they came hurling together, and
  • smote down many knights of Northgalis and of Northumberland. And when
  • Sir Launcelot saw them fare so, he gat a spear in his hand; and there
  • encountered with him all at once Sir Bors, Sir Ector, and Sir Lionel,
  • and all they three smote him at once with their spears. And with force
  • of themself they smote Sir Launcelot’s horse to the earth; and by
  • misfortune Sir Bors smote Sir Launcelot through the shield into the
  • side, and the spear brake, and the head left still in his side.
  • When Sir Lavaine saw his master lie on the ground, he ran to the King
  • of Scots and smote him to the earth; and by great force he took his
  • horse, and brought him to Sir Launcelot, and maugre of them all he made
  • him to mount upon that horse. And then Launcelot gat a spear in his
  • hand, and there he smote Sir Bors, horse and man, to the earth. In the
  • same wise he served Sir Ector and Sir Lionel; and Sir Lavaine smote
  • down Sir Blamore de Ganis. And then Sir Launcelot drew his sword, for
  • he felt himself so sore y-hurt that he weened there to have had his
  • death. And then he smote Sir Bleoberis such a buffet on the helm that
  • he fell down to the earth in a swoon. And in the same wise he served
  • Sir Aliduke and Sir Galihud. And Sir Lavaine smote down Sir Bellangere,
  • that was the son of Alisander le Orphelin.
  • And by this was Sir Bors horsed, and then he came with Sir Ector and
  • Sir Lionel, and all they three smote with swords upon Sir Launcelot’s
  • helmet. And when he felt their buffets and his wound, the which was so
  • grievous, then he thought to do what he might while he might endure.
  • And then he gave Sir Bors such a buffet that he made him bow his head
  • passing low; and therewithal he raced off his helm, and might have
  • slain him; and so pulled him down, and in the same wise he served Sir
  • Ector and Sir Lionel. For as the book saith he might have slain them,
  • but when he saw their visages his heart might not serve him thereto,
  • but left them there. And then afterward he hurled into the thickest
  • press of them all, and did there the marvelloust deeds of arms that
  • ever man saw or heard speak of, and ever Sir Lavaine, the good knight,
  • with him. And there Sir Launcelot with his sword smote down and pulled
  • down, as the French book maketh mention, mo than thirty knights, and
  • the most part were of the Table Round; and Sir Lavaine did full well
  • that day, for he smote down ten knights of the Table Round.
  • CHAPTER XII. How Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine departed out of the
  • field, and in what jeopardy Launcelot was.
  • Mercy Jesu, said Sir Gawaine to Arthur, I marvel what knight that he is
  • with the red sleeve. Sir, said King Arthur, he will be known or he
  • depart. And then the king blew unto lodging, and the prize was given by
  • heralds unto the knight with the white shield that bare the red sleeve.
  • Then came the King with the Hundred Knights, the King of Northgalis,
  • and the King of Northumberland, and Sir Galahad, the haut prince, and
  • said unto Sir Launcelot: Fair knight, God thee bless, for much have ye
  • done this day for us, therefore we pray you that ye will come with us
  • that ye may receive the honour and the prize as ye have worshipfully
  • deserved it. My fair lords, said Sir Launcelot, wit you well if I have
  • deserved thanks I have sore bought it, and that me repenteth, for I am
  • like never to escape with my life; therefore, fair lords, I pray you
  • that ye will suffer me to depart where me liketh, for I am sore hurt. I
  • take none force of none honour, for I had liefer to repose me than to
  • be lord of all the world. And therewithal he groaned piteously, and
  • rode a great wallop away-ward from them until he came under a wood’s
  • side.
  • And when he saw that he was from the field nigh a mile, that he was
  • sure he might not be seen, then he said with an high voice: O gentle
  • knight, Sir Lavaine, help me that this truncheon were out of my side,
  • for it sticketh so sore that it nigh slayeth me. O mine own lord, said
  • Sir Lavaine, I would fain do that might please you, but I dread me sore
  • an I pull out the truncheon that ye shall be in peril of death. I
  • charge you, said Sir Launcelot, as ye love me, draw it out. And
  • therewithal he descended from his horse, and right so did Sir Lavaine;
  • and forthwithal Sir Lavaine drew the truncheon out of his side, and he
  • gave a great shriek and a marvellous grisly groan, and the blood brast
  • out nigh a pint at once, that at the last he sank down upon his
  • buttocks, and so swooned pale and deadly. Alas, said Sir Lavaine, what
  • shall I do? And then he turned Sir Launcelot into the wind, but so he
  • lay there nigh half an hour as he had been dead.
  • And so at the last Sir Launcelot cast up his eyes, and said: O Lavaine,
  • help me that I were on my horse, for here is fast by within this two
  • mile a gentle hermit that sometime was a full noble knight and a great
  • lord of possessions. And for great goodness he hath taken him to wilful
  • poverty, and forsaken many lands, and his name is Sir Baudwin of
  • Brittany, and he is a full noble surgeon and a good leech. Now let see,
  • help me up that I were there, for ever my heart giveth me that I shall
  • never die of my cousin-germain’s hands. And then with great pain Sir
  • Lavaine halp him upon his horse. And then they rode a great wallop
  • together, and ever Sir Launcelot bled that it ran down to the earth;
  • and so by fortune they came to that hermitage the which was under a
  • wood, and a great cliff on the other side, and a fair water running
  • under it. And then Sir Lavaine beat on the gate with the butt of his
  • spear, and cried fast: Let in for Jesu’s sake.
  • And there came a fair child to them, and asked them what they would.
  • Fair son, said Sir Lavaine, go and pray thy lord, the hermit, for God’s
  • sake to let in here a knight that is full sore wounded; and this day
  • tell thy lord I saw him do more deeds of arms than ever I heard say
  • that any man did. So the child went in lightly, and then he brought the
  • hermit, the which was a passing good man. When Sir Lavaine saw him he
  • prayed him for God’s sake of succour. What knight is he? said the
  • hermit. Is he of the house of King Arthur, or not? I wot not, said Sir
  • Lavaine, what is he, nor what is his name, but well I wot I saw him do
  • marvellously this day as of deeds of arms. On whose party was he? said
  • the hermit. Sir, said Sir Lavaine, he was this day against King Arthur,
  • and there he won the prize of all the knights of the Round Table. I
  • have seen the day, said the hermit, I would have loved him the worse
  • because he was against my lord, King Arthur, for sometime I was one of
  • the fellowship of the Round Table, but I thank God now I am otherwise
  • disposed. But where is he? let me see him. Then Sir Lavaine brought the
  • hermit to him.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How Launcelot was brought to an hermit for to be healed
  • of his wound, and of other matters.
  • And when the hermit beheld him, as he sat leaning upon his saddle-bow
  • ever bleeding piteously, and ever the knight-hermit thought that he
  • should know him, but he could not bring him to knowledge because he was
  • so pale for bleeding. What knight are ye, said the hermit, and where
  • were ye born? My fair lord, said Sir Launcelot, I am a stranger and a
  • knight adventurous, that laboureth throughout many realms for to win
  • worship. Then the hermit advised him better, and saw by a wound on his
  • cheek that he was Sir Launcelot. Alas, said the hermit, mine own lord
  • why lain you your name from me? Forsooth I ought to know you of right,
  • for ye are the most noblest knight of the world, for well I know you
  • for Sir Launcelot. Sir, said he, sith ye know me, help me an ye may,
  • for God’s sake, for I would be out of this pain at once, either to
  • death or to life. Have ye no doubt, said the hermit, ye shall live and
  • fare right well. And so the hermit called to him two of his servants,
  • and so he and his servants bare him into the hermitage, and lightly
  • unarmed him, and laid him in his bed. And then anon the hermit
  • staunched his blood, and made him to drink good wine, so that Sir
  • Launcelot was well refreshed and knew himself; for in those days it was
  • not the guise of hermits as is nowadays, for there were none hermits in
  • those days but that they had been men of worship and of prowess; and
  • those hermits held great household, and refreshed people that were in
  • distress.
  • Now turn we unto King Arthur, and leave we Sir Launcelot in the
  • hermitage. So when the kings were come together on both parties, and
  • the great feast should be holden, King Arthur asked the King of
  • Northgalis and their fellowship, where was that knight that bare the
  • red sleeve: Bring him afore me that he may have his laud, and honour,
  • and the prize, as it is right. Then spake Sir Galahad, the haut prince,
  • and the King with the Hundred Knights: We suppose that knight is
  • mischieved, and that he is never like to see you nor none of us all,
  • and that is the greatest pity that ever we wist of any knight. Alas,
  • said Arthur, how may this be, is he so hurt? What is his name? said
  • King Arthur. Truly, said they all, we know not his name, nor from
  • whence he came, nor whither he would. Alas, said the king, this be to
  • me the worst tidings that came to me this seven year, for I would not
  • for all the lands I wield to know and wit it were so that that noble
  • knight were slain. Know ye him? said they all. As for that, said
  • Arthur, whether I know him or know him not, ye shall not know for me
  • what man he is, but Almighty Jesu send me good tidings of him. And so
  • said they all. By my head, said Sir Gawaine, if it so be that the good
  • knight be so sore hurt, it is great damage and pity to all this land,
  • for he is one of the noblest knights that ever I saw in a field handle
  • a spear or a sword; and if he may be found I shall find him, for I am
  • sure he nis not far from this town. Bear you well, said King Arthur, an
  • ye may find him, unless that he be in such a plight that he may not
  • wield himself. Jesu defend, said Sir Gawaine, but wit I shall what he
  • is, an I may find him.
  • Right so Sir Gawaine took a squire with him upon hackneys, and rode all
  • about Camelot within six or seven mile, but so he came again and could
  • hear no word of him. Then within two days King Arthur and all the
  • fellowship returned unto London again. And so as they rode by the way
  • it happed Sir Gawaine at Astolat to lodge with Sir Bernard thereas was
  • Sir Launcelot lodged. And so as Sir Gawaine was in his chamber to
  • repose him Sir Bernard, the old baron, came unto him, and his daughter
  • Elaine, to cheer him and to ask him what tidings, and who did best at
  • that tournament of Winchester. So God me help, said Sir Gawaine, there
  • were two knights that bare two white shields, but the one of them bare
  • a red sleeve upon his head, and certainly he was one of the best
  • knights that ever I saw joust in field. For I dare say, said Sir
  • Gawaine, that one knight with the red sleeve smote down forty knights
  • of the Table Round, and his fellow did right well and worshipfully. Now
  • blessed be God, said the Fair Maiden of Astolat, that that knight sped
  • so well, for he is the man in the world that I first loved, and truly
  • he shall be last that ever I shall love. Now, fair maid, said Sir
  • Gawaine, is that good knight your love? Certainly sir, said she, wit ye
  • well he is my love. Then know ye his name? said Sir Gawaine. Nay truly,
  • said the damosel, I know not his name nor from whence he cometh, but to
  • say that I love him, I promise you and God that I love him. How had ye
  • knowledge of him first? said Sir Gawaine.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How Sir Gawaine was lodged with the lord of Astolat, and
  • there had knowledge that it was Sir Launcelot that bare the red sleeve.
  • Then she told him as ye have heard to-fore, and how her father betook
  • him her brother to do him service, and how her father lent him her
  • brother’s, Sir Tirre’s, shield: And here with me he left his own
  • shield. For what cause did he so? said Sir Gawaine. For this cause,
  • said the damosel, for his shield was too well known among many noble
  • knights. Ah fair damosel, said Sir Gawaine, please it you let me have a
  • sight of that shield. Sir, said she, it is in my chamber, covered with
  • a case, and if ye will come with me ye shall see it. Not so, said Sir
  • Bernard till his daughter, let send for it.
  • So when the shield was come, Sir Gawaine took off the case, and when he
  • beheld that shield he knew anon that it was Sir Launcelot’s shield, and
  • his own arms. Ah Jesu mercy, said Sir Gawaine, now is my heart more
  • heavier than ever it was to-fore. Why? said Elaine. For I have great
  • cause, said Sir Gawaine. Is that knight that oweth this shield your
  • love? Yea truly, said she, my love he is, God would I were his love. So
  • God me speed, said Sir Gawaine, fair damosel ye have right, for an he
  • be your love ye love the most honourable knight of the world, and the
  • man of most worship. So me thought ever, said the damosel, for never or
  • that time, for no knight that ever I saw, loved I never none erst. God
  • grant, said Sir Gawaine, that either of you may rejoice other, but that
  • is in a great adventure. But truly, said Sir Gawaine unto the damosel,
  • ye may say ye have a fair grace, for why I have known that noble knight
  • this four-and-twenty year, and never or that day, I nor none other
  • knight, I dare make good, saw nor heard say that ever he bare token or
  • sign of no lady, gentlewoman, ne maiden, at no jousts nor tournament.
  • And therefore fair maiden, said Sir Gawaine, ye are much beholden to
  • him to give him thanks. But I dread me, said Sir Gawaine, that ye shall
  • never see him in this world, and that is great pity that ever was of
  • earthly knight. Alas, said she, how may this be, is he slain? I say not
  • so, said Sir Gawaine, but wit ye well he is grievously wounded, by all
  • manner of signs, and by men’s sight more likelier to be dead than to be
  • alive; and wit ye well he is the noble knight, Sir Launcelot, for by
  • this shield I know him. Alas, said the Fair Maiden of Astolat, how may
  • this be, and what was his hurt? Truly, said Sir Gawaine, the man in the
  • world that loved him best hurt him so; and I dare say, said Sir
  • Gawaine, an that knight that hurt him knew the very certainty that he
  • had hurt Sir Launcelot, it would be the most sorrow that ever came to
  • his heart.
  • Now fair father, said then Elaine, I require you give me leave to ride
  • and to seek him, or else I wot well I shall go out of my mind, for I
  • shall never stint till that I find him and my brother, Sir Lavaine. Do
  • as it liketh you, said her father, for me sore repenteth of the hurt of
  • that noble knight. Right so the maid made her ready, and before Sir
  • Gawaine, making great dole.
  • Then on the morn Sir Gawaine came to King Arthur, and told him how he
  • had found Sir Launcelot’s shield in the keeping of the Fair Maiden of
  • Astolat. All that knew I aforehand, said King Arthur, and that caused
  • me I would not suffer you to have ado at the great jousts, for I
  • espied, said King Arthur, when he came in till his lodging full late in
  • the evening in Astolat. But marvel have I, said Arthur, that ever he
  • would bear any sign of any damosel, for or now I never heard say nor
  • knew that ever he bare any token of none earthly woman. By my head,
  • said Sir Gawaine, the Fair Maiden of Astolat loveth him marvellously
  • well; what it meaneth I cannot say, and she is ridden after to seek
  • him. So the king and all came to London, and there Sir Gawaine openly
  • disclosed to all the court that it was Sir Launcelot that jousted best.
  • CHAPTER XV. Of the sorrow that Sir Bors had for the hurt of Launcelot;
  • and of the anger that the queen had because Launcelot bare the sleeve.
  • And when Sir Bors heard that, wit ye well he was an heavy man, and so
  • were all his kinsmen. But when Queen Guenever wist that Sir Launcelot
  • bare the red sleeve of the Fair Maiden of Astolat she was nigh out of
  • her mind for wrath. And then she sent for Sir Bors de Ganis in all the
  • haste that might be. So when Sir Bors was come to-fore the queen, then
  • she said: Ah Sir Bors, have ye heard say how falsely Sir Launcelot hath
  • betrayed me? Alas madam, said Sir Bors, I am afeard he hath betrayed
  • himself and us all. No force, said the queen, though he be destroyed,
  • for he is a false traitor-knight. Madam, said Sir Bors, I pray you say
  • ye not so, for wit you well I may not hear such language of him. Why
  • Sir Bors, said she, should I not call him traitor when he bare the red
  • sleeve upon his head at Winchester, at the great jousts? Madam, said
  • Sir Bors, that sleeve-bearing repenteth me sore, but I dare say he did
  • it to none evil intent, but for this cause he bare the red sleeve that
  • none of his blood should know him. For or then we, nor none of us all,
  • never knew that ever he bare token or sign of maid, lady, ne
  • gentlewoman. Fie on him, said the queen, yet for all his pride and
  • bobaunce there ye proved yourself his better. Nay madam, say ye never
  • more so, for he beat me and my fellows, and might have slain us an he
  • had would. Fie on him, said the queen, for I heard Sir Gawaine say
  • before my lord Arthur that it were marvel to tell the great love that
  • is between the Fair Maiden of Astolat and him. Madam, said Sir Bors, I
  • may not warn Sir Gawaine to say what it pleased him; but I dare say, as
  • for my lord, Sir Launcelot, that he loveth no lady, gentlewoman, nor
  • maid, but all he loveth in like much. And therefore madam, said Sir
  • Bors, ye may say what ye will, but wit ye well I will haste me to seek
  • him, and find him wheresomever he be, and God send me good tidings of
  • him. And so leave we them there, and speak we of Sir Launcelot that lay
  • in great peril.
  • So as fair Elaine came to Winchester she sought there all about, and by
  • fortune Sir Lavaine was ridden to play him, to enchafe his horse. And
  • anon as Elaine saw him she knew him, and then she cried aloud until
  • him. And when he heard her anon he came to her, and then she asked her
  • brother how did my lord, Sir Launcelot. Who told you, sister, that my
  • lord’s name was Sir Launcelot? Then she told him how Sir Gawaine by his
  • shield knew him. So they rode together till that they came to the
  • hermitage, and anon she alighted.
  • So Sir Lavaine brought her in to Sir Launcelot; and when she saw him
  • lie so sick and pale in his bed she might not speak, but suddenly she
  • fell to the earth down suddenly in a swoon, and there she lay a great
  • while. And when she was relieved, she shrieked and said: My lord, Sir
  • Launcelot, alas why be ye in this plight? and then she swooned again.
  • And then Sir Launcelot prayed Sir Lavaine to take her up: And bring her
  • to me. And when she came to herself Sir Launcelot kissed her, and said:
  • Fair maiden, why fare ye thus? ye put me to pain; wherefore make ye no
  • more such cheer, for an ye be come to comfort me ye be right welcome;
  • and of this little hurt that I have I shall be right hastily whole by
  • the grace of God. But I marvel, said Sir Launcelot, who told you my
  • name? Then the fair maiden told him all how Sir Gawaine was lodged with
  • her father: And there by your shield he discovered your name. Alas,
  • said Sir Launcelot, that me repenteth that my name is known, for I am
  • sure it will turn unto anger. And then Sir Launcelot compassed in his
  • mind that Sir Gawaine would tell Queen Guenever how he bare the red
  • sleeve, and for whom; that he wist well would turn into great anger.
  • So this maiden Elaine never went from Sir Launcelot, but watched him
  • day and night, and did such attendance to him, that the French book
  • saith there was never woman did more kindlier for man than she. Then
  • Sir Launcelot prayed Sir Lavaine to make aspies in Winchester for Sir
  • Bors if he came there, and told him by what tokens he should know him,
  • by a wound in his forehead. For well I am sure, said Sir Launcelot,
  • that Sir Bors will seek me, for he is the same good knight that hurt
  • me.
  • CHAPTER XVI. How Sir Bors sought Launcelot and found him in the
  • hermitage, and of the lamentation between them.
  • Now turn we unto Sir Bors de Ganis that came unto Winchester to seek
  • after his cousin Sir Launcelot. And so when he came to Winchester, anon
  • there were men that Sir Lavaine had made to lie in a watch for such a
  • man, and anon Sir Lavaine had warning; and then Sir Lavaine came to
  • Winchester and found Sir Bors, and there he told him what he was, and
  • with whom he was, and what was his name. Now fair knight, said Sir
  • Bors, I require you that ye will bring me to my lord, Sir Launcelot.
  • Sir, said Sir Lavaine, take your horse, and within this hour ye shall
  • see him. And so they departed, and came to the hermitage.
  • And when Sir Bors saw Sir Launcelot lie in his bed pale and
  • discoloured, anon Sir Bors lost his countenance, and for kindness and
  • pity he might not speak, but wept tenderly a great while. And then when
  • he might speak he said thus: O my lord, Sir Launcelot, God you bless,
  • and send you hasty recover; and full heavy am I of my misfortune and of
  • mine unhappiness, for now I may call myself unhappy. And I dread me
  • that God is greatly displeased with me, that he would suffer me to have
  • such a shame for to hurt you that are all our leader, and all our
  • worship; and therefore I call myself unhappy. Alas that ever such a
  • caitiff-knight as I am should have power by unhappiness to hurt the
  • most noblest knight of the world. Where I so shamefully set upon you
  • and overcharged you, and where ye might have slain me, ye saved me; and
  • so did not I, for I and your blood did to you our utterance. I marvel,
  • said Sir Bors, that my heart or my blood would serve me, wherefore my
  • lord, Sir Launcelot, I ask your mercy. Fair cousin, said Sir Launcelot,
  • ye be right welcome; and wit ye well, overmuch ye say for to please me,
  • the which pleaseth me not, for why I have the same I sought; for I
  • would with pride have overcome you all, and there in my pride I was
  • near slain, and that was in mine own default, for I might have given
  • you warning of my being there. And then had I had no hurt, for it is an
  • old said saw, there is hard battle thereas kin and friends do battle
  • either against other, there may be no mercy but mortal war. Therefore,
  • fair cousin, said Sir Launcelot, let this speech overpass, and all
  • shall be welcome that God sendeth; and let us leave off this matter and
  • let us speak of some rejoicing, for this that is done may not be
  • undone; and let us find a remedy how soon that I may be whole.
  • Then Sir Bors leaned upon his bedside, and told Sir Launcelot how the
  • queen was passing wroth with him, because he wore the red sleeve at the
  • great jousts; and there Sir Bors told him all how Sir Gawaine
  • discovered it: By your shield that ye left with the Fair Maiden of
  • Astolat. Then is the queen wroth, said Sir Launcelot and therefore am I
  • right heavy, for I deserved no wrath, for all that I did was because I
  • would not be known. Right so excused I you, said Sir Bors, but all was
  • in vain, for she said more largelier to me than I to you now. But is
  • this she, said Sir Bors, that is so busy about you, that men call the
  • Fair Maiden of Astolat? She it is, said Sir Launcelot, that by no means
  • I cannot put her from me. Why should ye put her from you? said Sir
  • Bors, she is a passing fair damosel, and a well beseen, and well
  • taught; and God would, fair cousin, said Sir Bors, that ye could love
  • her, but as to that I may not, nor I dare not, counsel you. But I see
  • well, said Sir Bors, by her diligence about you that she loveth you
  • entirely. That me repenteth, said Sir Launcelot. Sir, said Sir Bors,
  • she is not the first that hath lost her pain upon you, and that is the
  • more pity: and so they talked of many more things. And so within three
  • days or four Sir Launcelot was big and strong again.
  • CHAPTER XVII. How Sir Launcelot armed him to assay if he might bear
  • arms, and how his wounds brast out again.
  • Then Sir Bors told Sir Launcelot how there was sworn a great tournament
  • and jousts betwixt King Arthur and the King of Northgalis, that should
  • be upon All Hallowmass Day, beside Winchester. Is that truth? said Sir
  • Launcelot; then shall ye abide with me still a little while until that
  • I be whole, for I feel myself right big and strong. Blessed be God,
  • said Sir Bors. Then were they there nigh a month together, and ever
  • this maiden Elaine did ever her diligent labour night and day unto Sir
  • Launcelot, that there was never child nor wife more meeker to her
  • father and husband than was that Fair Maiden of Astolat; wherefore Sir
  • Bors was greatly pleased with her.
  • So upon a day, by the assent of Sir Launcelot, Sir Bors, and Sir
  • Lavaine, they made the hermit to seek in woods for divers herbs, and so
  • Sir Launcelot made fair Elaine to gather herbs for him to make him a
  • bain. In the meanwhile Sir Launcelot made him to arm him at all pieces;
  • and there he thought to assay his armour and his spear, for his hurt or
  • not. And so when he was upon his horse he stirred him fiercely, and the
  • horse was passing lusty and fresh because he was not laboured a month
  • afore. And then Sir Launcelot couched that spear in the rest. That
  • courser leapt mightily when he felt the spurs; and he that was upon
  • him, the which was the noblest horse of the world, strained him
  • mightily and stably, and kept still the spear in the rest; and
  • therewith Sir Launcelot strained himself so straitly, with so great
  • force, to get the horse forward, that the button of his wound brast
  • both within and without; and therewithal the blood came out so fiercely
  • that he felt himself so feeble that he might not sit upon his horse.
  • And then Sir Launcelot cried unto Sir Bors: Ah, Sir Bors and Sir
  • Lavaine, help, for I am come to mine end. And therewith he fell down on
  • the one side to the earth like a dead corpse. And then Sir Bors and Sir
  • Lavaine came to him with sorrow-making out of measure. And so by
  • fortune the maiden Elaine heard their mourning, and then she came
  • thither; and when she found Sir Launcelot there armed in that place she
  • cried and wept as she had been wood; and then she kissed him, and did
  • what she might to awake him. And then she rebuked her brother and Sir
  • Bors, and called them false traitors, why they would take him out of
  • his bed; there she cried, and said she would appeal them of his death.
  • With this came the holy hermit, Sir Baudwin of Brittany, and when he
  • found Sir Launcelot in that plight he said but little, but wit ye well
  • he was wroth; and then he bade them: Let us have him in. And so they
  • all bare him unto the hermitage, and unarmed him, and laid him in his
  • bed; and evermore his wound bled piteously, but he stirred no limb of
  • him. Then the knight-hermit put a thing in his nose and a little deal
  • of water in his mouth. And then Sir Launcelot waked of his swoon, and
  • then the hermit staunched his bleeding. And when he might speak he
  • asked Sir Launcelot why he put his life in jeopardy. Sir, said Sir
  • Launcelot, because I weened I had been strong, and also Sir Bors told
  • me that there should be at All Hallowmass a great jousts betwixt King
  • Arthur and the King of Northgalis, and therefore I thought to assay it
  • myself whether I might be there or not. Ah, Sir Launcelot, said the
  • hermit, your heart and your courage will never be done until your last
  • day, but ye shall do now by my counsel Let Sir Bors depart from you,
  • and let him do at that tournament what he may: And by the grace of God,
  • said the knight-hermit, by that the tournament be done and ye come
  • hither again, Sir Launcelot shall be as whole as ye, so that he will be
  • governed by me.
  • CHAPTER XVIII. How Sir Bors returned and told tidings of Sir Launcelot;
  • and of the tourney, and to whom the prize was given.
  • Then Sir Bors made him ready to depart from Sir Launcelot; and then Sir
  • Launcelot said: Fair cousin, Sir Bors, recommend me unto all them unto
  • whom me ought to recommend me unto. And I pray you, enforce yourself at
  • that jousts that ye may be best, for my love; and here shall I abide
  • you at the mercy of God till ye come again. And so Sir Bors departed
  • and came to the court of King Arthur, and told them in what place he
  • had left Sir Launcelot. That me repenteth, said the king, but since he
  • shall have his life we all may thank God. And there Sir Bors told the
  • queen in what jeopardy Sir Launcelot was when he would assay his horse.
  • And all that he did, madam, was for the love of you, because he would
  • have been at this tournament. Fie on him, recreant knight, said the
  • queen, for wit ye well I am right sorry an he shall have his life. His
  • life shall he have, said Sir Bors, and who that would otherwise, except
  • you, madam, we that be of his blood should help to short their lives.
  • But madam, said Sir Bors, ye have been oft-times displeased with my
  • lord, Sir Launcelot, but at all times at the end ye find him a true
  • knight: and so he departed.
  • And then every knight of the Round Table that were there at that time
  • present made them ready to be at that jousts at All Hallowmass, and
  • thither drew many knights of divers countries. And as All Hallowmass
  • drew near, thither came the King of Northgalis, and the King with the
  • Hundred Knights, and Sir Galahad, the haut prince, of Surluse, and
  • thither came King Anguish of Ireland, and the King of Scots. So these
  • three kings came on King Arthur’s party. And so that day Sir Gawaine
  • did great deeds of arms, and began first. And the heralds numbered that
  • Sir Gawaine smote down twenty knights. Then Sir Bors de Ganis came in
  • the same time, and he was numbered that he smote down twenty knights;
  • and therefore the prize was given betwixt them both, for they began
  • first and longest endured. Also Sir Gareth, as the book saith, did that
  • day great deeds of arms, for he smote down and pulled down thirty
  • knights. But when he had done these deeds he tarried not but so
  • departed, and therefore he lost his prize. And Sir Palomides did great
  • deeds of arms that day, for he smote down twenty knights, but he
  • departed suddenly, and men deemed Sir Gareth and he rode together to
  • some manner adventures.
  • So when this tournament was done Sir Bors departed and rode till he
  • came to Sir Launcelot, his cousin; and then he found him walking on his
  • feet, and there either made great joy of other; and so Sir Bors told
  • Sir Launcelot of all the Jousts like as ye have heard. I marvel, said
  • Sir Launcelot, that Sir Gareth, when he had done such deeds of arms,
  • that he would not tarry. Thereof we marvelled all, said Sir Bors, for
  • but if it were you, or Sir Tristram, or Sir Lamorak de Galis, I saw
  • never knight bear down so many in so little a while as did Sir Gareth:
  • and anon he was gone we wist not where. By my head, said Sir Launcelot,
  • he is a noble knight, and a mighty man and well breathed; and if he
  • were well assayed, said Sir Launcelot I would deem he were good enough
  • for any knight that beareth the life; and he is a gentle knight,
  • courteous, true, and bounteous, meek, and mild, and in him is no manner
  • of mal engin, but plain, faithful, and true.
  • So then they made them ready to depart from the hermit. And so upon a
  • morn they took their horses and Elaine le Blank with them; and when
  • they came to Astolat there were they well lodged, and had great cheer
  • of Sir Bernard, the old baron, and of Sir Tirre, his son. And so upon
  • the morn when Sir Launcelot should depart, fair Elaine brought her
  • father with her, and Sir Lavaine, and Sir Tirre, and thus she said:
  • CHAPTER XIX. Of the great lamentation of the Fair Maid of Astolat when
  • Launcelot should depart, and how she died for his love.
  • My lord, Sir Launcelot, now I see ye will depart; now fair knight and
  • courteous knight, have mercy upon me, and suffer me not to die for thy
  • love. What would ye that I did? said Sir Launcelot. I would have you to
  • my husband, said Elaine. Fair damosel, I thank you, said Sir Launcelot,
  • but truly, said he, I cast me never to be wedded man. Then, fair
  • knight, said she, will ye be my paramour? Jesu defend me, said Sir
  • Launcelot, for then I rewarded your father and your brother full evil
  • for their great goodness. Alas, said she, then must I die for your
  • love. Ye shall not so, said Sir Launcelot, for wit ye well, fair
  • maiden, I might have been married an I had would, but I never applied
  • me to be married yet; but because, fair damosel, that ye love me as ye
  • say ye do, I will for your good will and kindness show you some
  • goodness, and that is this, that wheresomever ye will beset your heart
  • upon some good knight that will wed you, I shall give you together a
  • thousand pound yearly to you and to your heirs; thus much will I give
  • you, fair madam, for your kindness, and always while I live to be your
  • own knight. Of all this, said the maiden, I will none, for but if ye
  • will wed me, or else be my paramour at the least, wit you well, Sir
  • Launcelot, my good days are done. Fair damosel, said Sir Launcelot, of
  • these two things ye must pardon me.
  • Then she shrieked shrilly, and fell down in a swoon; and then women
  • bare her into her chamber, and there she made over much sorrow; and
  • then Sir Launcelot would depart, and there he asked Sir Lavaine what he
  • would do. What should I do, said Sir Lavaine, but follow you, but if ye
  • drive me from you, or command me to go from you. Then came Sir Bernard
  • to Sir Launcelot and said to him: I cannot see but that my daughter
  • Elaine will die for your sake. I may not do withal, said Sir Launcelot,
  • for that me sore repenteth, for I report me to yourself, that my
  • proffer is fair; and me repenteth, said Sir Launcelot, that she loveth
  • me as she doth; I was never the causer of it, for I report me to your
  • son I early ne late proffered her bounté nor fair behests; and as for
  • me, said Sir Launcelot, I dare do all that a knight should do that she
  • is a clean maiden for me, both for deed and for will. And I am right
  • heavy of her distress, for she is a full fair maiden, good and gentle,
  • and well taught. Father, said Sir Lavaine, I dare make good she is a
  • clean maiden as for my lord Sir Launcelot; but she doth as I do, for
  • sithen I first saw my lord Sir Launcelot, I could never depart from
  • him, nor nought I will an I may follow him.
  • Then Sir Launcelot took his leave, and so they departed, and came unto
  • Winchester. And when Arthur wist that Sir Launcelot was come whole and
  • sound the king made great joy of him, and so did Sir Gawaine and all
  • the knights of the Round Table except Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred.
  • Also Queen Guenever was wood wroth with Sir Launcelot, and would by no
  • means speak with him, but estranged herself from him; and Sir Launcelot
  • made all the means that he might for to speak with the queen, but it
  • would not be.
  • Now speak we of the Fair Maiden of Astolat that made such sorrow day
  • and night that she never slept, ate, nor drank, and ever she made her
  • complaint unto Sir Launcelot. So when she had thus endured a ten days,
  • that she feebled so that she must needs pass out of this world, then
  • she shrived her clean, and received her Creator. And ever she
  • complained still upon Sir Launcelot. Then her ghostly father bade her
  • leave such thoughts. Then she said, why should I leave such thoughts?
  • Am I not an earthly woman? And all the while the breath is in my body I
  • may complain me, for my belief is I do none offence though I love an
  • earthly man; and I take God to my record I loved never none but Sir
  • Launcelot du Lake, nor never shall, and a clean maiden I am for him and
  • for all other; and sithen it is the sufferance of God that I shall die
  • for the love of so noble a knight, I beseech the High Father of Heaven
  • to have mercy upon my soul, and upon mine innumerable pains that I
  • suffered may be allegeance of part of my sins. For sweet Lord Jesu,
  • said the fair maiden, I take Thee to record, on Thee I was never great
  • offencer against thy laws; but that I loved this noble knight, Sir
  • Launcelot, out of measure, and of myself, good Lord, I might not
  • withstand the fervent love wherefore I have my death.
  • And then she called her father, Sir Bernard, and her brother, Sir
  • Tirre, and heartily she prayed her father that her brother might write
  • a letter like as she did indite it: and so her father granted her. And
  • when the letter was written word by word like as she devised, then she
  • prayed her father that she might be watched until she were dead. And
  • while my body is hot let this letter be put in my right hand, and my
  • hand bound fast with the letter until that I be cold; and let me be put
  • in a fair bed with all the richest clothes that I have about me, and so
  • let my bed and all my richest clothes be laid with me in a chariot unto
  • the next place where Thames is; and there let me be put within a
  • barget, and but one man with me, such as ye trust to steer me thither,
  • and that my barget be covered with black samite over and over: thus
  • father I beseech you let it be done. So her father granted it her
  • faithfully, all things should be done like as she had devised. Then her
  • father and her brother made great dole, for when this was done anon she
  • died. And so when she was dead the corpse and the bed all was led the
  • next way unto Thames, and there a man, and the corpse, and all, were
  • put into Thames; and so the man steered the barget unto Westminster,
  • and there he rowed a great while to and fro or any espied it.
  • CHAPTER XX. How the corpse of the Maid of Astolat arrived to-fore King
  • Arthur, and of the burying, and how Sir Launcelot offered the
  • mass-penny.
  • So by fortune King Arthur and the Queen Guenever were speaking together
  • at a window, and so as they looked into Thames they espied this black
  • barget, and had marvel what it meant. Then the king called Sir Kay, and
  • showed it him. Sir, said Sir Kay, wit you well there is some new
  • tidings. Go thither, said the king to Sir Kay, and take with you Sir
  • Brandiles and Agravaine, and bring me ready word what is there. Then
  • these four knights departed and came to the barget and went in; and
  • there they found the fairest corpse lying in a rich bed, and a poor man
  • sitting in the barget’s end, and no word would he speak. So these four
  • knights returned unto the king again, and told him what they found.
  • That fair corpse will I see, said the king. And so then the king took
  • the queen by the hand, and went thither.
  • Then the king made the barget to be holden fast, and then the king and
  • the queen entered with certain knights with them; and there he saw the
  • fairest woman lie in a rich bed, covered unto her middle with many rich
  • clothes, and all was of cloth of gold, and she lay as though she had
  • smiled. Then the queen espied a letter in her right hand, and told it
  • to the king. Then the king took it and said: Now am I sure this letter
  • will tell what she was, and why she is come hither. So then the king
  • and the queen went out of the barget, and so commanded a certain man to
  • wait upon the barget.
  • And so when the king was come within his chamber, he called many
  • knights about him, and said that he would wit openly what was written
  • within that letter. Then the king brake it, and made a clerk to read
  • it, and this was the intent of the letter. Most noble knight, Sir
  • Launcelot, now hath death made us two at debate for your love. I was
  • your lover, that men called the Fair Maiden of Astolat; therefore unto
  • all ladies I make my moan, yet pray for my soul and bury me at least,
  • and offer ye my mass-penny: this is my last request. And a clean maiden
  • I died, I take God to witness: pray for my soul, Sir Launcelot, as thou
  • art peerless. This was all the substance in the letter. And when it was
  • read, the king, the queen, and all the knights wept for pity of the
  • doleful complaints. Then was Sir Launcelot sent for; and when he was
  • come King Arthur made the letter to be read to him.
  • And when Sir Launcelot heard it word by word, he said: My lord Arthur,
  • wit ye well I am right heavy of the death of this fair damosel: God
  • knoweth I was never causer of her death by my willing, and that will I
  • report me to her own brother: here he is, Sir Lavaine. I will not say
  • nay, said Sir Launcelot, but that she was both fair and good, and much
  • I was beholden unto her, but she loved me out of measure. Ye might have
  • shewed her, said the queen, some bounty and gentleness that might have
  • preserved her life. Madam, said Sir Launcelot, she would none other
  • ways be answered but that she would be my wife, outher else my
  • paramour; and of these two I would not grant her, but I proffered her,
  • for her good love that she shewed me, a thousand pound yearly to her,
  • and to her heirs, and to wed any manner knight that she could find best
  • to love in her heart. For madam, said Sir Launcelot, I love not to be
  • constrained to love; for love must arise of the heart, and not by no
  • constraint. That is truth, said the king, and many knight’s love is
  • free in himself, and never will be bounden, for where he is bounden he
  • looseth himself.
  • Then said the king unto Sir Launcelot: It will be your worship that ye
  • oversee that she be interred worshipfully. Sir, said Sir Launcelot,
  • that shall be done as I can best devise. And so many knights yede
  • thither to behold that fair maiden. And so upon the morn she was
  • interred richly, and Sir Launcelot offered her mass-penny; and all the
  • knights of the Table Round that were there at that time offered with
  • Sir Launcelot. And then the poor man went again with the barget. Then
  • the queen sent for Sir Launcelot, and prayed him of mercy, for why that
  • she had been wroth with him causeless. This is not the first time, said
  • Sir Launcelot, that ye had been displeased with me causeless, but,
  • madam, ever I must suffer you, but what sorrow I endure I take no
  • force. So this passed on all that winter, with all manner of hunting
  • and hawking, and jousts and tourneys were many betwixt many great
  • lords, and ever in all places Sir Lavaine gat great worship, so that he
  • was nobly renowned among many knights of the Table Round.
  • CHAPTER XXI. Of great jousts done all a Christmas, and of a great
  • jousts and tourney ordained by King Arthur, and of Sir Launcelot.
  • Thus it passed on till Christmas, and then every day there was jousts
  • made for a diamond, who that jousted best should have a diamond. But
  • Sir Launcelot would not joust but if it were at a great jousts cried.
  • But Sir Lavaine jousted there all that Christmas passingly well, and
  • best was praised, for there were but few that did so well. Wherefore
  • all manner of knights deemed that Sir Lavaine should be made knight of
  • the Table Round at the next feast of Pentecost. So at-after Christmas
  • King Arthur let call unto him many knights, and there they advised
  • together to make a party and a great tournament and jousts. And the
  • King of Northgalis said to Arthur, he would have on his party King
  • Anguish of Ireland, and the King with the Hundred Knights, and the King
  • of Northumberland, and Sir Galahad, the haut prince. And so these four
  • kings and this mighty duke took part against King Arthur and the
  • knights of the Table Round. And the cry was made that the day of the
  • jousts should be beside Westminster upon Candlemas Day, whereof many
  • knights were glad, and made them ready to be at that jousts in the
  • freshest manner.
  • Then Queen Guenever sent for Sir Launcelot, and said thus: I warn you
  • that ye ride no more in no jousts nor tournaments but that your kinsmen
  • may know you. And at these jousts that shall be ye shall have of me a
  • sleeve of gold; and I pray you for my sake enforce yourself there, that
  • men may speak of you worship; but I charge you as ye will have my love,
  • that ye warn your kinsmen that ye will bear that day the sleeve of gold
  • upon your helmet. Madam, said Sir Launcelot, it shall be done. And so
  • either made great joy of other. And when Sir Launcelot saw his time he
  • told Sir Bors that he would depart, and have no more with him but Sir
  • Lavaine, unto the good hermit that dwelt in that forest of Windsor; his
  • name was Sir Brasias; and there he thought to repose him, and take all
  • the rest that he might, because he would be fresh at that day of
  • jousts.
  • So Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine departed, that no creature wist where
  • he was become, but the noble men of his blood. And when he was come to
  • the hermitage, wit ye well he had good cheer. And so daily Sir
  • Launcelot would go to a well fast by the hermitage, and there he would
  • lie down, and see the well spring and burble, and sometime he slept
  • there. So at that time there was a lady dwelt in that forest, and she
  • was a great huntress, and daily she used to hunt, and ever she bare her
  • bow with her; and no men went never with her, but always women, and
  • they were shooters, and could well kill a deer, both at the stalk and
  • at the trest; and they daily bare bows and arrows, horns and
  • wood-knives, and many good dogs they had, both for the string and for a
  • bait. So it happed this lady the huntress had abated her dog for the
  • bow at a barren hind, and so this barren hind took the flight over
  • hedges and woods. And ever this lady and part of her women costed the
  • hind, and checked it by the noise of the hounds, to have met with the
  • hind at some water; and so it happed, the hind came to the well whereas
  • Sir Launcelot was sleeping and slumbering. And so when the hind came to
  • the well, for heat she went to soil, and there she lay a great while;
  • and the dog came after, and umbecast about, for she had lost the very
  • perfect feute of the hind. Right so came that lady the huntress, that
  • knew by the dog that she had, that the hind was at the soil in that
  • well; and there she came stiffly and found the hind, and she put a
  • broad arrow in her bow, and shot at the hind, and over-shot the hind;
  • and so by misfortune the arrow smote Sir Launcelot in the thick of the
  • buttock, over the barbs. When Sir Launcelot felt himself so hurt, he
  • hurled up woodly, and saw the lady that had smitten him. And when he
  • saw she was a woman, he said thus: Lady or damosel, what that thou be,
  • in an evil time bear ye a bow; the devil made you a shooter.
  • CHAPTER XXII. How Launcelot after that he was hurt of a gentlewoman
  • came to an hermit, and of other matters.
  • Now mercy, fair sir, said the lady, I am a gentlewoman that useth here
  • in this forest hunting, and God knoweth I saw ye not; but as here was a
  • barren hind at the soil in this well, and I weened to have done well,
  • but my hand swerved. Alas, said Sir Launcelot, ye have mischieved me.
  • And so the lady departed, and Sir Launcelot as he might pulled out the
  • arrow, and left that head still in his buttock, and so he went weakly
  • to the hermitage ever more bleeding as he went. And when Sir Lavaine
  • and the hermit espied that Sir Launcelot was hurt, wit you well they
  • were passing heavy, but Sir Lavaine wist not how that he was hurt nor
  • by whom. And then were they wroth out of measure.
  • Then with great pain the hermit gat out the arrow’s head out of Sir
  • Launcelot’s buttock, and much of his blood he shed, and the wound was
  • passing sore, and unhappily smitten, for it was in such a place that he
  • might not sit in no saddle. Have mercy, Jesu, said Sir Launcelot, I may
  • call myself the most unhappiest man that liveth, for ever when I would
  • fainest have worship there befalleth me ever some unhappy thing. Now so
  • Jesu me help, said Sir Launcelot, and if no man would but God, I shall
  • be in the field upon Candlemas Day at the jousts, whatsomever fall of
  • it: so all that might be gotten to heal Sir Launcelot was had.
  • So when the day was come Sir Launcelot let devise that he was arrayed,
  • and Sir Lavaine, and their horses, as though they had been Saracens;
  • and so they departed and came nigh to the field. The King of Northgalis
  • with an hundred knights with him, and the King of Northumberland
  • brought with him an hundred good knights, and King Anguish of Ireland
  • brought with him an hundred good knights ready to joust, and Sir
  • Galahad, the haut prince, brought with him an hundred good knights, and
  • the King with the Hundred Knights brought with him as many, and all
  • these were proved good knights. Then came in King Arthur’s party; and
  • there came in the King of Scots with an hundred knights, and King
  • Uriens of Gore brought with him an hundred knights, and King Howel of
  • Brittany brought with him an hundred knights, and Chaleins of Clarance
  • brought with him an hundred knights, and King Arthur himself came into
  • the field with two hundred knights, and the most part were knights of
  • the Table Round, that were proved noble knights; and there were old
  • knights set in scaffolds for to judge, with the queen, who did best.
  • CHAPTER XXIII. How Sir Launcelot behaved him at the jousts, and other
  • men also.
  • Then they blew to the field; and there the King of Northgalis
  • encountered with the King of Scots, and there the King of Scots had a
  • fall; and the King of Ireland smote down King Uriens; and the King of
  • Northumberland smote down King Howel of Brittany; and Sir Galahad, the
  • haut prince, smote down Chaleins of Clarance. And then King Arthur was
  • wood wroth, and ran to the King with the Hundred Knights, and there
  • King Arthur smote him down; and after with that same spear King Arthur
  • smote down three other knights. And then when his spear was broken King
  • Arthur did passingly well; and so therewithal came in Sir Gawaine and
  • Sir Gaheris, Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred, and there everych of them
  • smote down a knight, and Sir Gawaine smote down four knights; and then
  • there began a strong medley, for then there came in the knights of
  • Launcelot’s blood, and Sir Gareth and Sir Palomides with them, and many
  • knights of the Table Round, and they began to hold the four kings and
  • the mighty duke so hard that they were discomfit; but this Duke
  • Galahad, the haut prince, was a noble knight, and by his mighty prowess
  • of arms he held the knights of the Table Round strait enough.
  • All this doing saw Sir Launcelot, and then he came into the field with
  • Sir Lavaine as it had been thunder. And then anon Sir Bors and the
  • knights of his blood espied Sir Launcelot, and said to them all: I warn
  • you beware of him with the sleeve of gold upon his head, for he is
  • himself Sir Launcelot du Lake; and for great goodness Sir Bors warned
  • Sir Gareth. I am well apaid, said Sir Gareth, that I may know him. But
  • who is he, said they all, that rideth with him in the same array? That
  • is the good and gentle knight Sir Lavaine, said Sir Bors. So Sir
  • Launcelot encountered with Sir Gawaine, and there by force Sir
  • Launcelot smote down Sir Gawaine and his horse to the earth, and so he
  • smote down Sir Agravaine and Sir Gaheris, and also he smote down Sir
  • Mordred, and all this was with one spear. Then Sir Lavaine met with Sir
  • Palomides, and either met other so hard and so fiercely that both their
  • horses fell to the earth. And then were they horsed again, and then met
  • Sir Launcelot with Sir Palomides, and there Sir Palomides had a fall;
  • and so Sir Launcelot or ever he stint, as fast as he might get spears,
  • he smote down thirty knights, and the most part of them were knights of
  • the Table Round; and ever the knights of his blood withdrew them, and
  • made them ado in other places where Sir Launcelot came not.
  • And then King Arthur was wroth when he saw Sir Launcelot do such deeds;
  • and then the king called unto him Sir Gawaine, Sir Mordred, Sir Kay,
  • Sir Griflet, Sir Lucan the Butler, Sir Bedivere, Sir Palomides, Sir
  • Safere, his brother; and so the king with these nine knights made them
  • ready to set upon Sir Launcelot, and upon Sir Lavaine. All this espied
  • Sir Bors and Sir Gareth. Now I dread me sore, said Sir Bors, that my
  • lord, Sir Launcelot, will be hard matched. By my head, said Sir Gareth,
  • I will ride unto my lord Sir Launcelot, for to help him, fall of him
  • what fall may, for he is the same man that made me knight. Ye shall not
  • so, said Sir Bors, by my counsel, unless that ye were disguised. Ye
  • shall see me disguised, said Sir Gareth; and therewithal he espied a
  • Welsh knight where he was to repose him, and he was sore hurt afore by
  • Sir Gawaine, and to him Sir Gareth rode, and prayed him of his
  • knighthood to lend him his shield for his. I will well, said the Welsh
  • knight. And when Sir Gareth had his shield, the book saith it was
  • green, with a maiden that seemed in it.
  • Then Sir Gareth came driving to Sir Launcelot all that he might and
  • said: Knight, keep thyself, for yonder cometh King Arthur with nine
  • noble knights with him to put you to a rebuke, and so I am come to bear
  • you fellowship for old love ye have shewed me. Gramercy, said Sir
  • Launcelot. Sir, said Sir Gareth, encounter ye with Sir Gawaine, and I
  • shall encounter with Sir Palomides; and let Sir Lavaine match with the
  • noble King Arthur. And when we have delivered them, let us three hold
  • us sadly together. Then came King Arthur with his nine knights with
  • him, and Sir Launcelot encountered with Sir Gawaine, and gave him such
  • a buffet that the arson of his saddle brast, and Sir Gawaine fell to
  • the earth. Then Sir Gareth encountered with the good knight Sir
  • Palomides, and he gave him such a buffet that both his horse and he
  • dashed to the earth. Then encountered King Arthur with Sir Lavaine, and
  • there either of them smote other to the earth, horse and all, that they
  • lay a great while. Then Sir Launcelot smote down Sir Agravaine, and Sir
  • Gaheris, and Sir Mordred; and Sir Gareth smote down Sir Kay, and Sir
  • Safere, and Sir Griflet. And then Sir Lavaine was horsed again, and he
  • smote down Sir Lucan the Butler and Sir Bedevere and then there began
  • great throng of good knights.
  • Then Sir Launcelot hurtled here and there, and raced and pulled off
  • helms, so that at that time there might none sit him a buffet with
  • spear nor with sword; and Sir Gareth did such deeds of arms that all
  • men marvelled what knight he was with the green shield, for he smote
  • down that day and pulled down mo than thirty knights And, as the French
  • book saith, Sir Launcelot marvelled; when he beheld Sir Gareth do such
  • deeds, what knight he might be; and Sir Lavaine pulled down and smote
  • down twenty knights. Also Sir Launcelot knew not Sir Gareth for an Sir
  • Tristram de Liones, outher Sir Lamorak de Galis had been alive, Sir
  • Launcelot would have deemed he had been one of them twain. So ever as
  • Sir Launcelot Sir Gareth, Sir Lavaine fought, and on the one side Sir
  • Bors, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Lionel, Sir Lamorak de Galis, Sir
  • Bleoberis, Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Pelleas, and with mo other
  • of King Ban’s blood fought upon another party, and held the King with
  • the Hundred Knights and the King of Northumberland right strait.
  • CHAPTER XXIV. How King Arthur marvelled much of the jousting in the
  • field, and how he rode and found Sir Launcelot.
  • So this tournament and this jousts dured long, till it was near night,
  • for the knights of the Round Table relieved ever unto King Arthur; for
  • the king was wroth out of measure that he and his knights might not
  • prevail that day. Then Sir Gawaine said to the king: I marvel where all
  • this day [be] Sir Bors de Ganis and his fellowship of Sir Launcelot’s
  • blood, I marvel all this day they be not about you: it is for some
  • cause said Sir Gawaine. By my head, said Sir Kay, Sir Bors is yonder
  • all this day upon the right hand of this field, and there he and his
  • blood do more worshipfully than we do. It may well be, said Sir
  • Gawaine, but I dread me ever of guile; for on pain of my life, said Sir
  • Gawaine, this knight with the red sleeve of gold is himself Sir
  • Launcelot, I see well by his riding and by his great strokes; and the
  • other knight in the same colours is the good young knight, Sir Lavaine.
  • Also that knight with the green shield is my brother, Sir Gareth, and
  • yet he hath disguised himself, for no man shall never make him be
  • against Sir Launcelot, because he made him knight. By my head, said
  • Arthur, nephew, I believe you; therefore tell me now what is your best
  • counsel. Sir, said Sir Gawaine, ye shall have my counsel: let blow unto
  • lodging, for an he be Sir Launcelot du Lake, and my brother, Sir
  • Gareth, with him, with the help of that good young knight, Sir Lavaine,
  • trust me truly it will be no boot to strive with them but if we should
  • fall ten or twelve upon one knight, and that were no worship, but
  • shame. Ye say truth, said the king; and for to say sooth, said the
  • king, it were shame to us so many as we be to set upon them any more;
  • for wit ye well, said King Arthur, they be three good knights, and
  • namely that knight with the sleeve of gold.
  • So then they blew unto lodging; but forthwithal King Arthur let send
  • unto the four kings, and to the mighty duke, and prayed them that the
  • knight with the sleeve of gold depart not from them, but that the king
  • may speak with him. Then forthwithal King Arthur alighted and unarmed
  • him, and took a little hackney and rode after Sir Launcelot, for ever
  • he had a spy upon him. And so he found him among the four kings and the
  • duke; and there the king prayed them all unto supper, and they said
  • they would with good will. And when they were unarmed then King Arthur
  • knew Sir Launcelot, Sir Lavaine, and Sir Gareth. Ah, Sir Launcelot,
  • said King Arthur, this day ye have heated me and my knights.
  • So they yede unto Arthur’s lodging all together, and there was a great
  • feast and great revel, and the prize was given unto Sir Launcelot; and
  • by heralds they named him that he had smitten down fifty knights, and
  • Sir Gareth five-and-thirty, and Sir Lavaine four-and-twenty knights.
  • Then Sir Launcelot told the king and the queen how the lady huntress
  • shot him in the forest of Windsor, in the buttock, with an broad arrow,
  • and how the wound thereof was that time six inches deep, and in like
  • long. Also Arthur blamed Sir Gareth because he left his fellowship and
  • held with Sir Launcelot. My lord, said Sir Gareth, he made me a knight,
  • and when I saw him so hard bestead, methought it was my worship to help
  • him, for I saw him do so much, and so many noble knights against him;
  • and when I understood that he was Sir Launcelot du Lake, I shamed to
  • see so many knights against him alone. Truly, said King Arthur unto Sir
  • Gareth, ye say well, and worshipfully have ye done and to yourself
  • great worship; and all the days of my life, said King Arthur unto Sir
  • Gareth, wit you well I shall love you, and trust you the more better.
  • For ever, said Arthur, it is a worshipful knight’s deed to help another
  • worshipful knight when he seeth him in a great danger; for ever a
  • worshipful man will be loath to see a worshipful man shamed; and he
  • that is of no worship, and fareth with cowardice, never shall he show
  • gentleness, nor no manner of goodness where he seeth a man in any
  • danger, for then ever will a coward show no mercy; and always a good
  • man will do ever to another man as he would be done to himself. So then
  • there were great feasts unto kings and dukes, and revel, game, and
  • play, and all manner of noblesse was used; and he that was courteous,
  • true, and faithful, to his friend was that time cherished.
  • CHAPTER XXV. How true love is likened to summer.
  • And thus it passed on from Candlemass until after Easter, that the
  • month of May was come, when every lusty heart beginneth to blossom, and
  • to bring forth fruit; for like as herbs and trees bring forth fruit and
  • flourish in May, in like wise every lusty heart that is in any manner a
  • lover, springeth and flourisheth in lusty deeds. For it giveth unto all
  • lovers courage, that lusty month of May, in something to constrain him
  • to some manner of thing more in that month than in any other month, for
  • divers causes. For then all herbs and trees renew a man and woman, and
  • likewise lovers call again to their mind old gentleness and old
  • service, and many kind deeds that were forgotten by negligence. For
  • like as winter rasure doth alway arase and deface green summer, so
  • fareth it by unstable love in man and woman. For in many persons there
  • is no stability; for we may see all day, for a little blast of winter’s
  • rasure, anon we shall deface and lay apart true love for little or
  • nought, that cost much thing; this is no wisdom nor stability, but it
  • is feebleness of nature and great disworship, whosomever useth this.
  • Therefore, like as May month flowereth and flourisheth in many gardens,
  • so in like wise let every man of worship flourish his heart in this
  • world, first unto God, and next unto the joy of them that he promised
  • his faith unto; for there was never worshipful man or worshipful woman,
  • but they loved one better than another; and worship in arms may never
  • be foiled, but first reserve the honour to God, and secondly the
  • quarrel must come of thy lady: and such love I call virtuous love.
  • But nowadays men can not love seven night but they must have all their
  • desires: that love may not endure by reason; for where they be soon
  • accorded and hasty heat, soon it cooleth. Right so fareth love
  • nowadays, soon hot soon cold: this is no stability. But the old love
  • was not so; men and women could love together seven years, and no
  • licours lusts were between them, and then was love, truth, and
  • faithfulness: and lo, in like wise was used love in King Arthur’s days.
  • Wherefore I liken love nowadays unto summer and winter; for like as the
  • one is hot and the other cold, so fareth love nowadays; therefore all
  • ye that be lovers call unto your remembrance the month of May, like as
  • did Queen Guenever, for whom I make here a little mention, that while
  • she lived she was a true lover, and therefore she had a good end.
  • _Explicit liber Octodecimus. And here followeth liber xix._
  • BOOK XIX.
  • CHAPTER I. How Queen Guenever rode a-Maying with certain knights of the
  • Round Table and clad all in green.
  • So it befell in the month of May, Queen Guenever called unto her
  • knights of the Table Round; and she gave them warning that early upon
  • the morrow she would ride a-Maying into woods and fields beside
  • Westminster. And I warn you that there be none of you but that he be
  • well horsed, and that ye all be clothed in green, outher in silk outher
  • in cloth; and I shall bring with me ten ladies, and every knight shall
  • have a lady behind him, and every knight shall have a squire and two
  • yeomen; and I will that ye all be well horsed. So they made them ready
  • in the freshest manner. And these were the names of the knights: Sir
  • Kay le Seneschal, Sir Agravaine, Sir Brandiles, Sir Sagramore le
  • Desirous, Sir Dodinas le Savage, Sir Ozanna le Cure Hardy, Sir Ladinas
  • of the Forest Savage, Sir Persant of Inde, Sir Ironside, that was
  • called the Knight of the Red Launds, and Sir Pelleas, the lover; and
  • these ten knights made them ready in the freshest manner to ride with
  • the queen. And so upon the morn they took their horses with the queen,
  • and rode a-Maying in woods and meadows as it pleased them, in great joy
  • and delights; for the queen had cast to have been again with King
  • Arthur at the furthest by ten of the clock, and so was that time her
  • purpose.
  • Then there was a knight that hight Meliagrance, and he was son unto
  • King Bagdemagus, and this knight had at that time a castle of the gift
  • of King Arthur within seven mile of Westminster. And this knight, Sir
  • Meliagrance, loved passing well Queen Guenever, and so had he done long
  • and many years. And the book saith he had lain in await for to steal
  • away the queen, but evermore he forbare for because of Sir Launcelot;
  • for in no wise he would meddle with the queen an Sir Launcelot were in
  • her company, outher else an he were near-hand her. And that time was
  • such a custom, the queen rode never without a great fellowship of men
  • of arms about her, and they were many good knights, and the most part
  • were young men that would have worship; and they were called the
  • Queen’s Knights, and never in no battle, tournament, nor jousts, they
  • bare none of them no manner of knowledging of their own arms, but plain
  • white shields, and thereby they were called the Queen’s Knights. And
  • then when it happed any of them to be of great worship by his noble
  • deeds, then at the next Feast of Pentecost, if there were any slain or
  • dead, as there was none year that there failed but some were dead, then
  • was there chosen in his stead that was dead the most men of worship,
  • that were called the Queen’s Knights. And thus they came up all first,
  • or they were renowned men of worship, both Sir Launcelot and all the
  • remnant of them.
  • But this knight, Sir Meliagrance, had espied the queen well and her
  • purpose, and how Sir Launcelot was not with her, and how she had no men
  • of arms with her but the ten noble knights all arrayed in green for
  • Maying. Then he purveyed him a twenty men of arms and an hundred
  • archers for to destroy the queen and her knights, for he thought that
  • time was best season to take the queen.
  • CHAPTER II. How Sir Meliagrance took the queen and her knights, which
  • were sore hurt in fighting.
  • So as the queen had Mayed and all her knights, all were bedashed with
  • herbs, mosses and flowers, in the best manner and freshest. Right so
  • came out of a wood Sir Meliagrance with an eight score men well
  • harnessed, as they should fight in a battle of arrest, and bade the
  • queen and her knights abide, for maugre their heads they should abide.
  • Traitor knight, said Queen Guenever, what cast thou for to do? Wilt
  • thou shame thyself? Bethink thee how thou art a king’s son, and knight
  • of the Table Round, and thou to be about to dishonour the noble king
  • that made thee knight; thou shamest all knighthood and thyself, and me,
  • I let thee wit, shalt thou never shame, for I had liefer cut mine own
  • throat in twain rather than thou shouldest dishonour me. As for all
  • this language, said Sir Meliagrance, be it as it be may, for wit you
  • well, madam, I have loved you many a year, and never or now could I get
  • you at such an advantage as I do now, and therefore I will take you as
  • I find you.
  • Then spake all the ten noble knights at once and said: Sir Meliagrance,
  • wit thou well ye are about to jeopard your worship to dishonour, and
  • also ye cast to jeopard our persons howbeit we be unarmed. Ye have us
  • at a great avail, for it seemeth by you that ye have laid watch upon
  • us; but rather than ye should put the queen to a shame and us all, we
  • had as lief to depart from our lives, for an if we other ways did, we
  • were shamed for ever. Then said Sir Meliagrance: Dress you as well ye
  • can, and keep the queen. Then the ten knights of the Table Round drew
  • their swords, and the other let run at them with their spears, and the
  • ten knights manly abode them, and smote away their spears that no spear
  • did them none harm. Then they lashed together with swords, and anon Sir
  • Kay, Sir Sagramore, Sir Agravaine, Sir Dodinas, Sir Ladinas, and Sir
  • Ozanna were smitten to the earth with grimly wounds. Then Sir
  • Brandiles, and Sir Persant, Sir Ironside, Sir Pelleas fought long, and
  • they were sore wounded, for these ten knights, or ever they were laid
  • to the ground, slew forty men of the boldest and the best of them.
  • So when the queen saw her knights thus dolefully wounded, and needs
  • must be slain at the last, then for pity and sorrow she cried Sir
  • Meliagrance: Slay not my noble knights, and I will go with thee upon
  • this covenant, that thou save them, and suffer them not to be no more
  • hurt, with this, that they be led with me wheresomever thou leadest me,
  • for I will rather slay myself than I will go with thee, unless that
  • these my noble knights may be in my presence. Madam, said Meliagrance,
  • for your sake they shall be led with you into mine own castle, with
  • that ye will be ruled, and ride with me. Then the queen prayed the four
  • knights to leave their fighting, and she and they would not depart.
  • Madam, said Sir Pelleas, we will do as ye do, for as for me I take no
  • force of my life nor death. For as the French book saith, Sir Pelleas
  • gave such buffets there that none armour might hold him.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Launcelot had word how the queen was taken, and
  • how Sir Meliagrance laid a bushment for Launcelot.
  • Then by the queen’s commandment they left battle, and dressed the
  • wounded knights on horseback, some sitting, some overthwart their
  • horses, that it was pity to behold them. And then Sir Meliagrance
  • charged the queen and all her knights that none of all her fellowship
  • should depart from her; for full sore he dread Sir Launcelot du Lake,
  • lest he should have any knowledging. All this espied the queen, and
  • privily she called unto her a child of her chamber that was swiftly
  • horsed, to whom she said: Go thou, when thou seest thy time, and bear
  • this ring unto Sir Launcelot du Lake, and pray him as he loveth me that
  • he will see me and rescue me, if ever he will have joy of me; and spare
  • not thy horse, said the queen, neither for water, neither for land. So
  • the child espied his time, and lightly he took his horse with the
  • spurs, and departed as fast as he might. And when Sir Meliagrance saw
  • him so flee, he understood that it was by the queen’s commandment for
  • to warn Sir Launcelot. Then they that were best horsed chased him and
  • shot at him, but from them all the child went suddenly. And then Sir
  • Meliagrance said to the queen: Madam, ye are about to betray me, but I
  • shall ordain for Sir Launcelot that he shall not come lightly at you.
  • And then he rode with her, and they all, to his castle, in all the
  • haste that they might. And by the way Sir Meliagrance laid in an
  • embushment the best archers that he might get in his country, to the
  • number of thirty, to await upon Sir Launcelot, charging them that if
  • they saw such a manner of knight come by the way upon a white horse,
  • that in any wise they slay his horse, but in no manner of wise have not
  • ado with him bodily, for he is over-hardy to be overcome.
  • So this was done, and they were come to his castle, but in no wise the
  • queen would never let none of the ten knights and her ladies out of her
  • sight, but always they were in her presence; for the book saith, Sir
  • Meliagrance durst make no masteries, for dread of Sir Launcelot,
  • insomuch he deemed that he had warning. So when the child was departed
  • from the fellowship of Sir Meliagrance, within a while he came to
  • Westminster, and anon he found Sir Launcelot. And when he had told his
  • message, and delivered him the queen’s ring: Alas, said Sir Launcelot,
  • now I am shamed for ever, unless that I may rescue that noble lady from
  • dishonour. Then eagerly he asked his armour; and ever the child told
  • Sir Launcelot how the ten knights fought marvellously, and how Sir
  • Pelleas, and Sir Ironside, and Sir Brandiles, and Sir Persant of Inde,
  • fought strongly, but namely Sir Pelleas, there might none withstand
  • him; and how they all fought till at the last they were laid to the
  • earth; and then the queen made appointment for to save their lives, and
  • go with Sir Meliagrance.
  • Alas, said Sir Launcelot, that most noble lady, that she should be so
  • destroyed; I had liefer, said Sir Launcelot, than all France, that I
  • had been there well armed. So when Sir Launcelot was armed and upon his
  • horse, he prayed the child of the queen’s chamber to warn Sir Lavaine
  • how suddenly he was departed, and for what cause. And pray him as he
  • loveth me, that he will hie him after me, and that he stint not until
  • he come to the castle where Sir Meliagrance abideth, or dwelleth; for
  • there, said Sir Launcelot, he shall hear of me an I am a man living,
  • and rescue the queen and the ten knights the which he traitorously hath
  • taken, and that shall I prove upon his head, and all them that hold
  • with him.
  • CHAPTER IV. How Sir Launcelot’s horse was slain, and how Sir Launcelot
  • rode in a cart for to rescue the queen.
  • Then Sir Launcelot rode as fast as he might, and the book saith he took
  • the water at Westminster Bridge, and made his horse to swim over Thames
  • unto Lambeth. And then within a while he came to the same place thereas
  • the ten noble knights fought with Sir Meliagrance. And then Sir
  • Launcelot followed the track until that he came to a wood, and there
  • was a straight way, and there the thirty archers bade Sir Launcelot
  • turn again, and follow no longer that track. What commandment have ye
  • thereto, said Sir Launcelot, to cause me that am a knight of the Round
  • Table to leave my right way? This way shalt thou leave, other-else thou
  • shalt go it on thy foot, for wit thou well thy horse shall be slain.
  • That is little mastery, said Sir Launcelot, to slay mine horse; but as
  • for myself, when my horse is slain, I give right nought for you, not an
  • ye were five hundred more. So then they shot Sir Launcelot’s horse, and
  • smote him with many arrows; and then Sir Launcelot avoided his horse,
  • and went on foot; but there were so many ditches and hedges betwixt
  • them and him that he might not meddle with none of them. Alas for
  • shame, said Launcelot, that ever one knight should betray another
  • knight; but it is an old saw, A good man is never in danger but when he
  • is in the danger of a coward. Then Sir Launcelot went a while, and then
  • he was foul cumbered of his armour, his shield, and his spear, and all
  • that longed unto him. Wit ye well he was full sore annoyed, and full
  • loath he was for to leave anything that longed unto him, for he dread
  • sore the treason of Sir Meliagrance.
  • Then by fortune there came by him a chariot that came thither for to
  • fetch wood. Say me, carter, said Sir Launcelot, what shall I give thee
  • to suffer me to leap into thy chariot, and that thou bring me unto a
  • castle within this two mile? Thou shalt not come within my chariot,
  • said the carter, for I am sent for to fetch wood for my lord, Sir
  • Meliagrance. With him would I speak. Thou shalt not go with me, said
  • the carter. Then Sir Launcelot leapt to him, and gave him such a buffet
  • that he fell to the earth stark dead. Then the other carter, his
  • fellow, was afeard, and weened to have gone the same way; and then he
  • cried: Fair lord, save my life, and I shall bring you where ye will.
  • Then I charge thee, said Sir Launcelot, that thou drive me and this
  • chariot even unto Sir Meliagrance’s gate. Leap up into the chariot,
  • said the carter, and ye shall be there anon. So the carter drove on a
  • great wallop, and Sir Launcelot’s horse followed the chariot, with more
  • than a forty arrows broad and rough in him.
  • And more than an hour and an half Dame Guenever was awaiting in a bay
  • window with her ladies, and espied an armed knight standing in a
  • chariot. See, madam, said a lady, where rideth in a chariot a goodly
  • armed knight; I suppose he rideth unto hanging. Where? said the queen.
  • Then she espied by his shield that he was there himself, Sir Launcelot
  • du Lake. And then she was ware where came his horse ever after that
  • chariot, and ever he trod his guts and his paunch under his feet. Alas,
  • said the queen, now I see well and prove, that well is him that hath a
  • trusty friend. Ha, ha, most noble knight, said Queen Guenever, I see
  • well thou art hard bestead when thou ridest in a chariot. Then she
  • rebuked that lady that likened Sir Launcelot to ride in a chariot to
  • hanging. It was foul mouthed, said the queen, and evil likened, so for
  • to liken the most noble knight of the world unto such a shameful death.
  • O Jesu defend him and keep him, said the queen, from all mischievous
  • end. By this was Sir Launcelot come to the gates of that castle, and
  • there he descended down, and cried, that all the castle rang of it:
  • Where art thou, false traitor, Sir Meliagrance, and knight of the Table
  • Round? now come forth here, thou traitor knight, thou and thy
  • fellowship with thee; for here I am, Sir Launcelot du Lake, that shall
  • fight with you. And therewithal he bare the gate wide open upon the
  • porter, and smote him under his ear with his gauntlet, that his neck
  • brast a-sunder.
  • CHAPTER V. How Sir Meliagrance required forgiveness of the queen, and
  • how she appeased Sir Launcelot; and other matters.
  • When Sir Meliagrance heard that Sir Launcelot was there he ran unto
  • Queen Guenever, and fell upon his knee, and said: Mercy, madam, now I
  • put me wholly into your grace. What aileth you now? said Queen
  • Guenever; forsooth I might well wit some good knight would revenge me,
  • though my lord Arthur wist not of this your work. Madam, said Sir
  • Meliagrance, all this that is amiss on my part shall be amended right
  • as yourself will devise, and wholly I put me in your grace. What would
  • ye that I did? said the queen. I would no more, said Meliagrance, but
  • that ye would take all in your own hands, and that ye will rule my lord
  • Sir Launcelot; and such cheer as may be made him in this poor castle ye
  • and he shall have until to-morn, and then may ye and all they return
  • unto Westminster; and my body and all that I have I shall put in your
  • rule. Ye say well, said the queen, and better is peace than ever war,
  • and the less noise the more is my worship.
  • Then the queen and her ladies went down unto the knight, Sir Launcelot,
  • that stood wroth out of measure in the inner court, to abide battle;
  • and ever he bade: Thou traitor knight come forth. Then the queen came
  • to him and said: Sir Launcelot, why be ye so moved? Ha, madam, said Sir
  • Launcelot, why ask ye me that question? Meseemeth, said Sir Launcelot,
  • ye ought to be more wroth than I am, for ye have the hurt and the
  • dishonour, for wit ye well, madam, my hurt is but little for the
  • killing of a mare’s son, but the despite grieveth me much more than all
  • my hurt. Truly, said the queen, ye say truth; but heartily I thank you,
  • said the queen, but ye must come in with me peaceably, for all thing is
  • put in my hand, and all that is evil shall be for the best, for the
  • knight full sore repenteth him of the misadventure that is befallen
  • him. Madam, said Sir Launcelot, sith it is so that ye been accorded
  • with him, as for me I may not be again it, howbeit Sir Meliagrance hath
  • done full shamefully to me, and cowardly. Ah madam, said Sir Launcelot,
  • an I had wist ye would have been so soon accorded with him I would not
  • have made such haste unto you. Why say ye so, said the queen, do ye
  • forthink yourself of your good deeds? Wit you well, said the queen, I
  • accorded never unto him for favour nor love that I had unto him, but
  • for to lay down every shameful noise. Madam, said Sir Launcelot, ye
  • understand full well I was never willing nor glad of shameful slander
  • nor noise; and there is neither king, queen, nor knight, that beareth
  • the life, except my lord King Arthur, and you, madam, should let me,
  • but I should make Sir Meliagrance’s heart full cold or ever I departed
  • from hence. That wot I well, said the queen, but what will ye more? Ye
  • shall have all thing ruled as ye list to have it. Madam, said Sir
  • Launcelot, so ye be pleased I care not, as for my part ye shall soon
  • please.
  • Right so the queen took Sir Launcelot by the bare hand, for he had put
  • off his gauntlet, and so she went with him till her chamber; and then
  • she commanded him to be unarmed. And then Sir Launcelot asked where
  • were the ten knights that were wounded sore; so she showed them unto
  • Sir Launcelot, and there they made great joy of the coming of him, and
  • Sir Launcelot made great dole of their hurts, and bewailed them
  • greatly. And there Sir Launcelot told them how cowardly and traitorly
  • Meliagrance set archers to slay his horse, and how he was fain to put
  • himself in a chariot. Thus they complained everych to other; and full
  • fain they would have been revenged, but they peaced themselves because
  • of the queen. Then, as the French book saith, Sir Launcelot was called
  • many a day after le Chevaler du Chariot, and did many deeds, and great
  • adventures he had. And so leave we of this tale le Chevaler du Chariot,
  • and turn we to this tale.
  • So Sir Launcelot had great cheer with the queen, and then Sir Launcelot
  • made a promise with the queen that the same night Sir Launcelot should
  • come to a window outward toward a garden; and that window was y-barred
  • with iron, and there Sir Launcelot promised to meet her when all folks
  • were asleep. So then came Sir Lavaine driving to the gates, crying:
  • Where is my lord, Sir Launcelot du Lake? Then was he sent for, and when
  • Sir Lavaine saw Sir Launcelot, he said: My lord, I found well how ye
  • were hard bestead, for I have found your horse that was slain with
  • arrows. As for that, said Sir Launcelot, I pray you, Sir Lavaine, speak
  • ye of other matters, and let ye this pass, and we shall right it
  • another time when we best may.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Sir Launcelot came in the night to the queen and lay
  • with her, and how Sir Meliagrance appeached the queen of treason.
  • Then the knights that were hurt were searched, and soft salves were
  • laid to their wounds; and so it passed on till supper time, and all the
  • cheer that might be made them there was done unto the queen and all her
  • knights. Then when season was, they went unto their chambers, but in no
  • wise the queen would not suffer the wounded knights to be from her, but
  • that they were laid within draughts by her chamber, upon beds and
  • pillows, that she herself might see to them, that they wanted nothing.
  • So when Sir Launcelot was in his chamber that was assigned unto him, he
  • called unto him Sir Lavaine, and told him that night he must go speak
  • with his lady, Dame Guenever. Sir, said Sir Lavaine, let me go with you
  • an it please you, for I dread me sore of the treason of Sir
  • Meliagrance. Nay, said Sir Launcelot, I thank you, but I will have
  • nobody with me. Then Sir Launcelot took his sword in his hand, and
  • privily went to a place where he had espied a ladder to-forehand, and
  • that he took under his arm, and bare it through the garden, and set it
  • up to the window, and there anon the queen was ready to meet him. And
  • then they made either to other their complaints of many divers things,
  • and then Sir Launcelot wished that he might have come into her. Wit ye
  • well, said the queen, I would as fain as ye, that ye might come in to
  • me. Would ye, madam, said Sir Launcelot, with your heart that I were
  • with you? Yea, truly, said the queen. Now shall I prove my might, said
  • Sir Launcelot, for your love; and then he set his hands upon the bars
  • of iron, and he pulled at them with such a might that he brast them
  • clean out of the stone walls, and therewithal one of the bars of iron
  • cut the brawn of his hands throughout to the bone; and then he leapt
  • into the chamber to the queen. Make ye no noise, said the queen, for my
  • wounded knights lie here fast by me. So, to pass upon this tale, Sir
  • Launcelot went unto bed with the queen, and he took no force of his
  • hurt hand, but took his pleasaunce and his liking until it was in the
  • dawning of the day; and wit ye well he slept not but watched, and when
  • he saw his time that he might tarry no longer he took his leave and
  • departed at the window, and put it together as well as he might again,
  • and so departed unto his own chamber; and there he told Sir Lavaine how
  • he was hurt. Then Sir Lavaine dressed his hand and staunched it, and
  • put upon it a glove, that it should not be espied; and so the queen lay
  • long in her bed until it was nine of the clock.
  • Then Sir Meliagrance went to the queen’s chamber, and found her ladies
  • there ready clothed. Jesu mercy, said Sir Meliagrance, what aileth you,
  • madam, that ye sleep thus long? And right therewithal he opened the
  • curtain for to behold her; and then was he ware where she lay, and all
  • the sheet and pillow was bebled with the blood of Sir Launcelot and of
  • his hurt hand. When Sir Meliagrance espied that blood, then he deemed
  • in her that she was false to the king, and that some of the wounded
  • knights had lain by her all that night. Ah, madam, said Sir
  • Meliagrance, now I have found you a false traitress unto my lord
  • Arthur; for now I prove well it was not for nought that ye laid these
  • wounded knights within the bounds of your chamber; therefore I will
  • call you of treason before my lord, King Arthur. And now I have proved
  • you, madam, with a shameful deed; and that they be all false, or some
  • of them, I will make good, for a wounded knight this night hath lain by
  • you. That is false, said the queen, and that I will report me unto them
  • all. Then when the ten knights heard Sir Meliagrance’s words, they
  • spake all in one voice and said to Sir Meliagrance: Thou sayest
  • falsely, and wrongfully puttest upon us such a deed, and that we will
  • make good any of us; choose which thou list of us when we are whole of
  • our wounds. Ye shall not, said Sir Meliagrance, away with your proud
  • language, for here ye may all see, said Sir Meliagrance, that by the
  • queen this night a wounded knight hath lain. Then were they all ashamed
  • when they saw that blood; and wit you well Sir Meliagrance was passing
  • glad that he had the queen at such an advantage, for he deemed by that
  • to hide his treason. So with this rumour came in Sir Launcelot, and
  • found them all at a great array.
  • CHAPTER VII. How Sir Launcelot answered for the queen, and waged battle
  • against Sir Meliagrance; and how Sir Launcelot was taken in a trap.
  • What array is this? said Sir Launcelot. Then Sir Meliagrance told them
  • what he had found, and showed them the queen’s bed. Truly, said Sir
  • Launcelot, ye did not your part nor knightly, to touch a queen’s bed
  • while it was drawn, and she lying therein; for I dare say my lord
  • Arthur himself would not have displayed her curtains, she being within
  • her bed, unless that it had pleased him to have lain down by her; and
  • therefore ye have done unworshipfully and shamefully to yourself. I wot
  • not what ye mean, said Sir Meliagrance, but well I am sure there hath
  • one of her wounded knights lain by her this night, and therefore I will
  • prove with my hands that she is a traitress unto my lord Arthur. Beware
  • what ye do, said Launcelot, for an ye say so, an ye will prove it, it
  • will be taken at your hands.
  • My lord, Sir Launcelot, said Sir Meliagrance, I rede you beware what ye
  • do; for though ye are never so good a knight, as ye wot well ye are
  • renowned the best knight of the world, yet should ye be advised to do
  • battle in a wrong quarrel, for God will have a stroke in every battle.
  • As for that, said Sir Launcelot, God is to be dread; but as to that I
  • say nay plainly, that this night there lay none of these ten wounded
  • knights with my lady Queen Guenever, and that will I prove with my
  • hands, that ye say untruly in that now. Hold, said Sir Meliagrance,
  • here is my glove that she is traitress unto my lord, King Arthur, and
  • that this night one of the wounded knights lay with her. And I receive
  • your glove, said Sir Launcelot. And so they were sealed with their
  • signets, and delivered unto the ten knights. At what day shall we do
  • battle together? said Sir Launcelot. This day ight days, said Sir
  • Meliagrance, in the field beside Westminster. I am agreed, said Sir
  • Launcelot. But now, said Sir Meliagrance, sithen it is so that we must
  • fight together, I pray you, as ye be a noble knight, await me with no
  • treason, nor none villainy the meanwhile, nor none for you. So God me
  • help, said Sir Launcelot, ye shall right well wit I was never of no
  • such conditions, for I report me to all knights that ever have known
  • me, I fared never with no treason, nor I loved never the fellowship of
  • no man that fared with treason. Then let us go to dinner, said
  • Meliagrance, and after dinner ye and the queen and ye may ride all to
  • Westminster. I will well, said Sir Launcelot.
  • Then Sir Meliagrance said to Sir Launcelot: Pleaseth it you to see the
  • estures of this castle? With a good will, said Sir Launcelot. And then
  • they went together from chamber to chamber, for Sir Launcelot dread no
  • perils; for ever a man of worship and of prowess dreadeth least always
  • perils, for they ween every man be as they be; but ever he that fareth
  • with treason putteth oft a man in great danger. So it befell upon Sir
  • Launcelot that no peril dread, as he went with Sir Meliagrance he trod
  • on a trap and the board rolled, and there Sir Launcelot fell down more
  • than ten fathom into a cave full of straw; and then Sir Meliagrance
  • departed and made no fare as that he nist where he was.
  • And when Sir Launcelot was thus missed they marvelled where he was
  • become; and then the queen and many of them deemed that he was departed
  • as he was wont to do suddenly. For Sir Meliagrance made suddenly to put
  • away aside Sir Lavaine’s horse, that they might all understand that Sir
  • Launcelot was departed suddenly. So it passed on till after dinner; and
  • then Sir Lavaine would not stint until that he ordained litters for the
  • wounded knights, that they might be laid in them; and so with the queen
  • and them all, both ladies and gentlewomen and other, went unto
  • Westminster; and there the knights told King Arthur how Meliagrance had
  • appealed the queen of high treason, and how Sir Launcelot had received
  • the glove of him: And this day eight days they shall do battle afore
  • you. By my head, said King Arthur, I am afeard Sir Meliagrance hath
  • taken upon him a great charge; but where is Sir Launcelot? said the
  • king. Sir, said they all, we wot not where he is, but we deem he is
  • ridden to some adventures, as he is ofttimes wont to do, for he hath
  • Sir Lavaine’s horse. Let him be, said the king, he will be founden, but
  • if he be trapped with some treason.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How Sir Launcelot was delivered out of prison by a lady,
  • and took a white courser and came for to keep his day.
  • So leave we Sir Launcelot lying within that cave in great pain; and
  • every day there came a lady and brought him his meat and his drink, and
  • wooed him, to have lain by him; and ever the noble knight, Sir
  • Launcelot, said her nay. Sir Launcelot, said she, ye are not wise, for
  • ye may never out of this prison, but if ye have my help; and also your
  • lady, Queen Guenever, shall be brent in your default, unless that ye be
  • there at the day of battle. God defend, said Sir Launcelot, that she
  • should be brent in my default; and if it be so, said Sir Launcelot,
  • that I may not be there, it shall be well understanded, both at the
  • king and at the queen, and with all men of worship, that I am dead,
  • sick, outher in prison. For all men that know me will say for me that I
  • am in some evil case an I be not there that day; and well I wot there
  • is some good knight either of my blood, or some other that loveth me,
  • that will take my quarrel in hand; and therefore, said Sir Launcelot,
  • wit ye well ye shall not fear me; and if there were no more women in
  • all this land but ye, I will not have ado with you. Then art thou
  • shamed, said the lady, and destroyed for ever. As for world’s shame,
  • Jesu defend me, and as for my distress, it is welcome whatsoever it be
  • that God sendeth me.
  • So she came to him the same day that the battle should be, and said:
  • Sir Launcelot, methinketh ye are too hard-hearted, but wouldest thou
  • but kiss me once I should deliver thee, and thine armour, and the best
  • horse that is within Sir Meliagrance’s stable. As for to kiss you, said
  • Sir Launcelot, I may do that and lose no worship; and wit ye well an I
  • understood there were any disworship for to kiss you I would not do it.
  • Then he kissed her, and then she gat him, and brought him to his
  • armour. And when he was armed, she brought him to a stable, where stood
  • twelve good coursers, and bade him choose the best. Then Sir Launcelot
  • looked upon a white courser the which liked him best; and anon he
  • commanded the keepers fast to saddle him with the best saddle of war
  • that there was; and so it was done as he bade. Then gat he his spear in
  • his hand, and his sword by his side, and commended the lady unto God,
  • and said: Lady, for this good deed I shall do you service if ever it be
  • in my power.
  • CHAPTER IX. How Sir Launcelot came the same time that Sir Meliagrance
  • abode him in the field and dressed him to battle.
  • Now leave we Sir Launcelot wallop all that he might, and speak we of
  • Queen Guenever that was brought to a fire to be brent; for Sir
  • Meliagrance was sure, him thought, that Sir Launcelot should not be at
  • that battle; therefore he ever cried upon King Arthur to do him
  • justice, other-else bring forth Sir Launcelot du Lake. Then was the
  • king and all the court full sore abashed and shamed that the queen
  • should be brent in the default of Sir Launcelot. My lord Arthur, said
  • Sir Lavaine, ye may understand that it is not well with my lord Sir
  • Launcelot, for an he were alive, so he be not sick outher in prison,
  • wit ye well he would be here; for never heard ye that ever he failed
  • his part for whom he should do battle for. And therefore, said Sir
  • Lavaine, my lord, King Arthur, I beseech you give me license to do
  • battle here this day for my lord and master, and for to save my lady,
  • the queen. Gramercy gentle Sir Lavaine, said King Arthur, for I dare
  • say all that Sir Meliagrance putteth upon my lady the queen is wrong,
  • for I have spoken with all the ten wounded knights, and there is not
  • one of them, an he were whole and able to do battle, but he would prove
  • upon Sir Meliagrance’s body that it is false that he putteth upon my
  • queen. So shall I, said Sir Lavaine, in the defence of my lord, Sir
  • Launcelot, an ye will give me leave. Now I give you leave, said King
  • Arthur, and do your best, for I dare well say there is some treason
  • done to Sir Launcelot
  • Then was Sir Lavaine armed and horsed, and suddenly at the lists’ end
  • he rode to perform this battle; and right as the heralds should cry:
  • Lesses les aler, right so came in Sir Launcelot driving with all the
  • force of his horse. And then Arthur cried: Ho! and Abide! Then was Sir
  • Launcelot called on horseback to-fore King Arthur, and there he told
  • openly to-fore the king and all, how Sir Meliagrance had served him
  • first to last. And when the king, and the queen, and all the lords,
  • knew of the treason of Sir Meliagrance they were all ashamed on his
  • behalf. Then was Queen Guenever sent for, and set by the king in great
  • trust of her champion. And then there was no more else to say, but Sir
  • Launcelot and Sir Meliagrance dressed them unto battle, and took their
  • spears; and so they came together as thunder, and there Sir Launcelot
  • bare him down quite over his horse’s croup. And then Sir Launcelot
  • alighted and dressed his shield on his shoulder, with his sword in his
  • hand, and Sir Meliagrance in the same wise dressed him unto him, and
  • there they smote many great strokes together; and at the last Sir
  • Launcelot smote him such a buffet upon the helmet that he fell on the
  • one side to the earth. And then he cried upon him aloud: Most noble
  • knight, Sir Launcelot du Lake, save my life, for I yield me unto you,
  • and I require you, as ye be a knight and fellow of the Table Round,
  • slay me not, for I yield me as overcome; and whether I shall live or
  • die I put me in the king’s hands and yours.
  • Then Sir Launcelot wist not what to do, for he had had liefer than all
  • the good of the world he might have been revenged upon Sir Meliagrance;
  • and Sir Launcelot looked up to the Queen Guenever, if he might espy by
  • any sign or countenance what she would have done. And then the queen
  • wagged her head upon Sir Launcelot, as though she would say: Slay him.
  • Full well knew Sir Launcelot by the wagging of her head that she would
  • have him dead; then Sir Launcelot bade him rise for shame and perform
  • that battle to the utterance. Nay, said Sir Meliagrance, I will never
  • arise until ye take me as yolden and recreant. I shall proffer you
  • large proffers, said Sir Launcelot, that is for to say, I shall unarm
  • my head and my left quarter of my body, all that may be unarmed, and
  • let bind my left hand behind me, so that it shall not help me, and
  • right so I shall do battle with you. Then Sir Meliagrance started up
  • upon his legs, and said on high: My lord Arthur, take heed to this
  • proffer, for I will take it, and let him be disarmed and bounden
  • according to his proffer. What say ye, said King Arthur unto Sir
  • Launcelot, will ye abide by your proffer? Yea, my lord, said Sir
  • Launcelot, I will never go from that I have once said.
  • Then the knights parters of the field disarmed Sir Launcelot, first his
  • head, and sithen his left arm, and his left side, and they bound his
  • left arm behind his back, without shield or anything, and then they
  • were put together. Wit you well there was many a lady and knight
  • marvelled that Sir Launcelot would jeopardy himself in such wise. Then
  • Sir Meliagrance came with his sword all on high, and Sir Launcelot
  • showed him openly his bare head and the bare left side; and when he
  • weened to have smitten him upon the bare head, then lightly he avoided
  • the left leg and the left side, and put his right hand and his sword to
  • that stroke, and so put it on side with great sleight; and then with
  • great force Sir Launcelot smote him on the helmet such a buffet that
  • the stroke carved the head in two parts. Then there was no more to do,
  • but he was drawn out of the field. And at the great instance of the
  • knights of the Table Round, the king suffered him to be interred, and
  • the mention made upon him, who slew him, and for what cause he was
  • slain; and then the king and the queen made more of Sir Launcelot du
  • Lake, and more he was cherished, than ever he was aforehand.
  • CHAPTER X. How Sir Urre came into Arthur’s court for to be healed of
  • his wounds, and how King Arthur would begin to handle him.
  • Then as the French book maketh mention, there was a good knight in the
  • land of Hungary, his name was Sir Urre, and he was an adventurous
  • knight, and in all places where he might hear of any deeds of worship
  • there would he be. So it happened in Spain there was an earl’s son, his
  • name was Alphegus, and at a great tournament in Spain this Sir Urre,
  • knight of Hungary, and Sir Alphegus of Spain encountered together for
  • very envy; and so either undertook other to the utterance. And by
  • fortune Sir Urre slew Sir Alphegus, the earl’s son of Spain, but this
  • knight that was slain had given Sir Urre, or ever he was slain, seven
  • great wounds, three on the head, and four on his body and upon his left
  • hand. And this Sir Alphegus had a mother, the which was a great
  • sorceress; and she, for the despite of her son’s death, wrought by her
  • subtle crafts that Sir Urre should never be whole, but ever his wounds
  • should one time fester and another time bleed, so that he should never
  • be whole until the best knight of the world had searched his wounds;
  • and thus she made her avaunt, wherethrough it was known that Sir Urre
  • should never be whole.
  • Then his mother let make an horse litter, and put him therein under two
  • palfreys; and then she took Sir Urre’s sister with him, a full fair
  • damosel, whose name was Felelolie; and then she took a page with him to
  • keep their horses, and so they led Sir Urre through many countries. For
  • as the French book saith, she led him so seven year through all lands
  • christened, and never she could find no knight that might ease her son.
  • So she came into Scotland and into the lands of England, and by fortune
  • she came nigh the feast of Pentecost until King Arthur’s court, that at
  • that time was holden at Carlisle. And when she came there, then she
  • made it openly to be known how that she was come into that land for to
  • heal her son.
  • Then King Arthur let call that lady, and asked her the cause why she
  • brought that hurt knight into that land. My most noble king, said that
  • lady, wit you well I brought him hither for to be healed of his wounds,
  • that of all this seven year he might not be whole. And then she told
  • the king where he was wounded, and of whom; and how his mother had
  • discovered in her pride how she had wrought that by enchantment, so
  • that he should never be whole until the best knight of the world had
  • searched his wounds. And so I have passed through all the lands
  • christened to have him healed, except this land. And if I fail to heal
  • him here in this land, I will never take more pain upon me, and that is
  • pity, for he was a good knight, and of great nobleness. What is his
  • name? said Arthur My good and gracious lord, she said, his name is Sir
  • Urre of the Mount. In good time, said the king, and sith ye are come
  • into this land, ye are right welcome; and wit you well here shall your
  • son be healed, an ever any Christian man may heal him. And for to give
  • all other men of worship courage, I myself will assay to handle your
  • son, and so shall all the kings, dukes, and earls that be here present
  • with me at this time; thereto will I command them, and well I wot they
  • shall obey and do after my commandment. And wit you well, said King
  • Arthur unto Urre’s sister, I shall begin to handle him, and search unto
  • my power, not presuming upon me that I am so worthy to heal your son by
  • my deeds, but I will courage other men of worship to do as I will do.
  • And then the king commanded all the kings, dukes, and earls, and all
  • noble knights of the Round Table that were there that time present, to
  • come into the meadow of Carlisle. And so at that time there were but an
  • hundred and ten of the Round Table, for forty knights were that time
  • away; and so here we must begin at King Arthur, as is kindly to begin
  • at him that was the most man of worship that was christened at that
  • time.
  • CHAPTER XI. How King Arthur handled Sir Urre, and after him many other
  • knights of the Round Table.
  • Then King Arthur looked upon Sir Urre, and the king thought he was a
  • full likely man when he was whole; and then King Arthur made him to be
  • taken down off the litter and laid him upon the earth, and there was
  • laid a cushion of gold that he should kneel upon. And then noble Arthur
  • said: Fair knight, me repenteth of thy hurt, and for to courage all
  • other noble knights I will pray thee softly to suffer me to handle your
  • wounds. Most noble christened king, said Urre, do as ye list, for I am
  • at the mercy of God, and at your commandment. So then Arthur softly
  • handled him, and then some of his wounds renewed upon bleeding. Then
  • the King Clarence of Northumberland searched, and it would not be. And
  • then Sir Barant le Apres that was called the King with the Hundred
  • Knights, he assayed and failed; and so did King Uriens of the land of
  • Gore; so did King Anguish of Ireland; so did King Nentres of Garloth;
  • so did King Carados of Scotland; so did the Duke Galahad, the haut
  • prince; so did Constantine, that was Sir Carados’ son of Cornwall; so
  • did Duke Chaleins of Clarance; so did the Earl Ulbause; so did the Earl
  • Lambaile; so did the Earl Aristause.
  • Then came in Sir Gawaine with his three sons, Sir Gingalin, Sir
  • Florence, and Sir Lovel, these two were begotten upon Sir Brandiles’
  • sister; and all they failed. Then came in Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris,
  • Sir Mordred, and the good knight, Sir Gareth, that was of very
  • knighthood worth all the brethren. So came knights of Launcelot’s kin,
  • but Sir Launcelot was not that time in the court, for he was that time
  • upon his adventures. Then Sir Lionel, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Bors de
  • Ganis, Sir Blamore de Ganis, Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, Sir Gahalantine,
  • Sir Galihodin, Sir Menaduke, Sir Villiars the Valiant, Sir Hebes le
  • Renoumes. All these were of Sir Launcelot’s kin, and all they failed.
  • Then came in Sir Sagramore le Desirous, Sir Dodinas le Savage, Sir
  • Dinadan, Sir Bruin le Noire, that Sir Kay named La Cote Male Taile, and
  • Sir Kay le Seneschal, Sir Kay de Stranges, Sir Meliot de Logris, Sir
  • Petipase of Winchelsea, Sir Galleron of Galway, Sir Melion of the
  • Mountain, Sir Cardok, Sir Uwaine les Avoutres, and Sir Ozanna le Cure
  • Hardy.
  • Then came in Sir Astamor, and Sir Gromere, Grummor’s son, Sir Crosselm,
  • Sir Servause le Breuse, that was called a passing strong knight, for as
  • the book saith, the chief Lady of the Lake feasted Sir Launcelot and
  • Servause le Breuse, and when she had feasted them both at sundry times
  • she prayed them to give her a boon. And they granted it her. And then
  • she prayed Sir Servause that he would promise her never to do battle
  • against Sir Launcelot du Lake, and in the same wise she prayed Sir
  • Launcelot never to do battle against Sir Servause, and so either
  • promised her. For the French book saith, that Sir Servause had never
  • courage nor lust to do battle against no man, but if it were against
  • giants, and against dragons, and wild beasts. So we pass unto them that
  • at the king’s request made them all that were there at that high feast,
  • as of the knights of the Table Round, for to search Sir Urre: to that
  • intent the king did it, to wit which was the noblest knight among them.
  • Then came Sir Aglovale, Sir Durnore, Sir Tor, that was begotten upon
  • Aries, the cowherd’s wife, but he was begotten afore Aries wedded her,
  • and King Pellinore begat them all, first Sir Tor, Sir Aglovale, Sir
  • Durnore, Sir Lamorak, the most noblest knight one that ever was in
  • Arthur’s days as for a worldly knight, and Sir Percivale that was
  • peerless except Sir Galahad in holy deeds, but they died in the quest
  • of the Sangreal. Then came Sir Griflet le Fise de Dieu, Sir Lucan the
  • Butler, Sir Bedevere his brother, Sir Brandiles, Sir Constantine, Sir
  • Cador’s son of Cornwall, that was king after Arthur’s days, and Sir
  • Clegis, Sir Sadok, Sir Dinas le Seneschal of Cornwall, Sir Fergus, Sir
  • Driant, Sir Lambegus, Sir Clarrus of Cleremont, Sir Cloddrus, Sir
  • Hectimere, Sir Edward of Carnarvon, Sir Dinas, Sir Priamus, that was
  • christened by Sir Tristram the noble knight, and these three were
  • brethren; Sir Hellaine le Blank that was son to Sir Bors, he begat him
  • upon King Brandegoris’ daughter, and Sir Brian de Listinoise; Sir
  • Gautere, Sir Reynold, Sir Gillemere, were three brethren that Sir
  • Launcelot won upon a bridge in Sir Kay’s arms. Sir Guyart le Petite,
  • Sir Bellangere le Beuse, that was son to the good knight, Sir Alisander
  • le Orphelin, that was slain by the treason of King Mark. Also that
  • traitor king slew the noble knight Sir Tristram, as he sat harping
  • afore his lady La Beale Isoud, with a trenchant glaive, for whose death
  • was much bewailing of every knight that ever were in Arthur’s days;
  • there was never none so bewailed as was Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorak,
  • for they were traitorously slain, Sir Tristram by King Mark, and Sir
  • Lamorak by Sir Gawaine and his brethren. And this Sir Bellangere
  • revenged the death of his father Alisander, and Sir Tristram slew King
  • Mark, and La Beale Isoud died swooning upon the corse of Sir Tristram,
  • whereof was great pity. And all that were with King Mark that were
  • consenting to the death of Sir Tristram were slain, as Sir Andred and
  • many other.
  • Then came Sir Hebes, Sir Morganore, Sir Sentraile, Sir Suppinabilis,
  • Sir Bellangere le Orgulous, that the good knight Sir Lamorak won in
  • plain battle; Sir Neroveus and Sir Plenorius, two good knights that Sir
  • Launcelot won; Sir Darras, Sir Harry le Fise Lake, Sir Erminide,
  • brother to King Hermaunce, for whom Sir Palomides fought at the Red
  • City with two brethren; and Sir Selises of the Dolorous Tower, Sir
  • Edward of Orkney, Sir Ironside, that was called the noble Knight of the
  • Red Launds that Sir Gareth won for the love of Dame Liones, Sir Arrok
  • de Grevaunt, Sir Degrane Saunce Velany that fought with the giant of
  • the black lowe, Sir Epinogris, that was the king’s son of
  • Northumberland. Sir Pelleas that loved the lady Ettard, and he had died
  • for her love had not been one of the ladies of the lake, her name was
  • Dame Nimue, and she wedded Sir Pelleas, and she saved him that he was
  • never slain, and he was a full noble knight; and Sir Lamiel of Cardiff
  • that was a great lover. Sir Plaine de Fors, Sir Melleaus de Lile, Sir
  • Bohart le Cure Hardy that was King Arthur’s son, Sir Mador de la Porte,
  • Sir Colgrevance, Sir Hervise de la Forest Savage, Sir Marrok, the good
  • knight that was betrayed with his wife, for she made him seven year a
  • wer-wolf, Sir Persaunt, Sir Pertilope, his brother, that was called the
  • Green Knight, and Sir Perimones, brother to them both, that was called
  • the Red Knight, that Sir Gareth won when he was called Beaumains. All
  • these hundred knights and ten searched Sir Urre’s wounds by the
  • commandment of King Arthur.
  • CHAPTER XII. How Sir Launcelot was commanded by Arthur to handle his
  • wounds, and anon he was all whole, and how they thanked God.
  • Mercy Jesu, said King Arthur, where is Sir Launcelot du Lake that he is
  • not here at this time? Thus, as they stood and spake of many things,
  • there was espied Sir Launcelot that came riding toward them, and told
  • the king. Peace, said the king, let no manner thing be said until he be
  • come to us. So when Sir Launcelot espied King Arthur, he descended from
  • his horse and came to the king, and saluted him and them all. Anon as
  • the maid, Sir Urre’s sister, saw Sir Launcelot, she ran to her brother
  • thereas he lay in his litter, and said: Brother, here is come a knight
  • that my heart giveth greatly unto. Fair sister, said Sir Urre, so doth
  • my heart light against him, and certainly I hope now to be healed, for
  • my heart giveth unto him more than to all these that have searched me.
  • Then said Arthur unto Sir Launcelot: Ye must do as we have done; and
  • told Sir Launcelot what they had done, and showed him them all, that
  • had searched him. Jesu defend me, said Sir Launcelot, when so many
  • kings and knights have assayed and failed, that I should presume upon
  • me to enchieve that all ye, my lords, might not enchieve. Ye shall not
  • choose, said King Arthur, for I will command you for to do as we all
  • have done. My most renowned lord, said Sir Launcelot, ye know well I
  • dare not nor may not disobey your commandment, but an I might or durst,
  • wit you well I would not take upon me to touch that wounded knight in
  • that intent that I should pass all other knights; Jesu defend me from
  • that shame. Ye take it wrong, said King Arthur, ye shall not do it for
  • no presumption, but for to bear us fellowship, insomuch ye be a fellow
  • of the Table Round; and wit you well, said King Arthur, an ye prevail
  • not and heal him, I dare say there is no knight in this land may heal
  • him, and therefore I pray you, do as we have done.
  • And then all the kings and knights for the most part prayed Sir
  • Launcelot to search him; and then the wounded knight, Sir Urre, set him
  • up weakly, and prayed Sir Launcelot heartily, saying: Courteous knight,
  • I require thee for God’s sake heal my wounds, for methinketh ever
  • sithen ye came here my wounds grieve me not. Ah, my fair lord, said Sir
  • Launcelot, Jesu would that I might help you; I shame me sore that I
  • should be thus rebuked, for never was I able in worthiness to do so
  • high a thing. Then Sir Launcelot kneeled down by the wounded knight
  • saying: My lord Arthur, I must do your commandment, the which is sore
  • against my heart. And then he held up his hands, and looked into the
  • east, saying secretly unto himself: Thou blessed Father, Son, and Holy
  • Ghost, I beseech thee of thy mercy, that my simple worship and honesty
  • be saved, and thou blessed Trinity, thou mayst give power to heal this
  • sick knight by thy great virtue and grace of thee, but, Good Lord,
  • never of myself. And then Sir Launcelot prayed Sir Urre to let him see
  • his head; and then devoutly kneeling he ransacked the three wounds,
  • that they bled a little, and forthwith all the wounds fair healed, and
  • seemed as they had been whole a seven year. And in likewise he searched
  • his body of other three wounds, and they healed in likewise; and then
  • the last of all he searched the which was in his hand, and anon it
  • healed fair.
  • Then King Arthur and all the kings and knights kneeled down and gave
  • thankings and lovings unto God and to His Blessed Mother. And ever Sir
  • Launcelot wept as he had been a child that had been beaten. Then King
  • Arthur let array priests and clerks in the most devoutest manner, to
  • bring in Sir Urre within Carlisle, with singing and loving to God. And
  • when this was done, the king let clothe him in the richest manner that
  • could be thought; and then were there but few better made knights in
  • all the court, for he was passingly well made and bigly; and Arthur
  • asked Sir Urre how he felt himself. My good lord, he said, I felt
  • myself never so lusty. Will ye joust and do deeds of arms? said King
  • Arthur. Sir, said Urre, an I had all that longed unto jousts I would be
  • soon ready.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How there was a party made of an hundred knights against
  • an hundred knights, and of other matters.
  • Then Arthur made a party of hundred knights to be against an hundred
  • knights. And so upon the morn they jousted for a diamond, but there
  • jousted none of the dangerous knights; and so for to shorten this tale,
  • Sir Urre and Sir Lavaine jousted best that day, for there was none of
  • them but he overthrew and pulled down thirty knights; and then by the
  • assent of all the kings and lords, Sir Urre and Sir Lavaine were made
  • knights of the Table Round. And Sir Lavaine cast his love unto Dame
  • Felelolie, Sir Urre’s sister, and then they were wedded together with
  • great joy, and King Arthur gave to everych of them a barony of lands.
  • And this Sir Urre would never go from Sir Launcelot, but he and Sir
  • Lavaine awaited evermore upon him; and they were in all the court
  • accounted for good knights, and full desirous in arms; and many noble
  • deeds they did, for they would have no rest, but ever sought
  • adventures.
  • Thus they lived in all that court with great noblesse and joy long
  • time. But every night and day Sir Agravaine, Sir Gawaine’s brother,
  • awaited Queen Guenever and Sir Launcelot du Lake to put them to a
  • rebuke and shame. And so I leave here of this tale, and overskip great
  • books of Sir Launcelot du Lake, what great adventures he did when he
  • was called Le Chevaler du Chariot. For as the French book saith,
  • because of despite that knights and ladies called him the knight that
  • rode in the chariot like as he were judged to the gallows, therefore in
  • despite of all them that named him so, he was carried in a chariot a
  • twelvemonth, for, but little after that he had slain Sir Meliagrance in
  • the queen’s quarrel, he never in a twelvemonth came on horseback. And
  • as the French book saith, he did that twelvemonth more than forty
  • battles. And because I have lost the very matter of Le Chevaier du
  • Chariot, I depart from the tale of Sir Launcelot, and here I go unto
  • the morte of King Arthur; and that caused Sir Agravaine.
  • _Explicit liber xix. And hereafter followeth the most piteous history
  • of the morte of King Arthur, the which is the twentieth book._
  • BOOK XX.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred were busy upon Sir Gawaine
  • for to disclose the love between Sir Launcelot and Queen Guenever.
  • In May when every lusty heart flourisheth and bourgeoneth, for as the
  • season is lusty to behold and comfortable, so man and woman rejoice and
  • gladden of summer coming with his fresh flowers: for winter with his
  • rough winds and blasts causeth a lusty man and woman to cower and sit
  • fast by the fire. So in this season, as in the month of May, it befell
  • a great anger and unhap that stinted not till the flower of chivalry of
  • all the world was destroyed and slain; and all was long upon two
  • unhappy knights the which were named Agravaine and Sir Mordred, that
  • were brethren unto Sir Gawaine. For this Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred
  • had ever a privy hate unto the queen Dame Guenever and to Sir
  • Launcelot, and daily and nightly they ever watched upon Sir Launcelot.
  • So it mishapped, Sir Gawaine and all his brethren were in King Arthur’s
  • chamber; and then Sir Agravaine said thus openly, and not in no
  • counsel, that many knights might hear it: I marvel that we all be not
  • ashamed both to see and to know how Sir Launcelot lieth daily and
  • nightly by the queen, and all we know it so; and it is shamefully
  • suffered of us all, that we all should suffer so noble a king as King
  • Arthur is so to be shamed.
  • Then spake Sir Gawaine, and said: Brother Sir Agravaine, I pray you and
  • charge you move no such matters no more afore me, for wit you well,
  • said Sir Gawaine, I will not be of your counsel. So God me help, said
  • Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth, we will not be knowing, brother Agravaine,
  • of your deeds. Then will I, said Sir Mordred. I lieve well that, said
  • Sir Gawaine, for ever unto all unhappiness, brother Sir Mordred,
  • thereto will ye grant; and I would that ye left all this, and made you
  • not so busy, for I know, said Sir Gawaine, what will fall of it. Fall
  • of it what fall may, said Sir Agravaine, I will disclose it to the
  • king. Not by my counsel, said Sir Gawaine, for an there rise war and
  • wrack betwixt Sir Launcelot and us, wit you well brother, there will
  • many kings and great lords hold with Sir Launcelot. Also, brother Sir
  • Agravaine, said Sir Gawaine, ye must remember how ofttimes Sir
  • Launcelot hath rescued the king and the queen; and the best of us all
  • had been full cold at the heart-root had not Sir Launcelot been better
  • than we, and that hath he proved himself full oft. And as for my part,
  • said Sir Gawaine, I will never be against Sir Launcelot for one day’s
  • deed, when he rescued me from King Carados of the Dolorous Tower, and
  • slew him, and saved my life. Also, brother Sir Agravaine and Sir
  • Mordred, in like wise Sir Launcelot rescued you both, and threescore
  • and two, from Sir Turquin. Methinketh brother, such kind deeds and
  • kindness should be remembered. Do as ye list, said Sir Agravaine, for I
  • will lain it no longer. With these words came to them King Arthur. Now
  • brother, stint your noise, said Sir Gawaine. We will not, said Sir
  • Agravaine and Sir Mordred. Will ye so? said Sir Gawaine; then God speed
  • you, for I will not hear your tales ne be of your counsel. No more will
  • I, said Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris, for we will never say evil by that
  • man; for because, said Sir Gareth, Sir Launcelot made me knight, by no
  • manner owe I to say ill of him: and therewithal they three departed,
  • making great dole. Alas, said Sir Gawaine and Sir Gareth, now is this
  • realm wholly mischieved, and the noble fellowship of the Round Table
  • shall be disparpled: so they departed.
  • CHAPTER II. How Sir Agravaine disclosed their love to King Arthur, and
  • how King Arthur gave them licence to take him.
  • And then Sir Arthur asked them what noise they made. My lord, said
  • Agravaine, I shall tell you that I may keep no longer. Here is I, and
  • my brother Sir Mordred, brake unto my brothers Sir Gawaine, Sir
  • Gaheris, and to Sir Gareth, how this we know all, that Sir Launcelot
  • holdeth your queen, and hath done long; and we be your sister’s sons,
  • and we may suffer it no longer, and all we wot that ye should be above
  • Sir Launcelot; and ye are the king that made him knight, and therefore
  • we will prove it, that he is a traitor to your person.
  • If it be so, said Sir Arthur, wit you well he is none other, but I
  • would be loath to begin such a thing but I might have proofs upon it;
  • for Sir Launcelot is an hardy knight, and all ye know he is the best
  • knight among us all; and but if he be taken with the deed, he will
  • fight with him that bringeth up the noise, and I know no knight that is
  • able to match him. Therefore an it be sooth as ye say, I would he were
  • taken with the deed. For as the French book saith, the king was full
  • loath thereto, that any noise should be upon Sir Launcelot and his
  • queen; for the king had a deeming, but he would not hear of it, for Sir
  • Launcelot had done so much for him and the queen so many times, that
  • wit ye well the king loved him passingly well. My lord, said Sir
  • Agravaine, ye shall ride to-morn a-hunting, and doubt ye not Sir
  • Launcelot will not go with you. Then when it draweth toward night, ye
  • may send the queen word that ye will lie out all that night, and so may
  • ye send for your cooks, and then upon pain of death we shall take him
  • that night with the queen, and outher we shall bring him to you dead or
  • quick. I will well, said the king; then I counsel you, said the king,
  • take with you sure fellowship. Sir, said Agravaine, my brother, Sir
  • Mordred, and I, will take with us twelve knights of the Round Table.
  • Beware, said King Arthur, for I warn you ye shall find him wight. Let
  • us deal, said Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred.
  • So on the morn King Arthur rode a-hunting, and sent word to the queen
  • that he would be out all that night. Then Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred
  • gat to them twelve knights, and hid themself in a chamber in the Castle
  • of Carlisle, and these were their names: Sir Colgrevance, Sir Mador de
  • la Porte, Sir Gingaline, Sir Meliot de Logris, Sir Petipase of
  • Winchelsea, Sir Galleron of Galway, Sir Melion of the Mountain, Sir
  • Astamore, Sir Gromore Somir Joure, Sir Curselaine, Sir Florence, Sir
  • Lovel. So these twelve knights were with Sir Mordred and Sir Agravaine,
  • and all they were of Scotland, outher of Sir Gawaine’s kin, either
  • well-willers to his brethren.
  • So when the night came, Sir Launcelot told Sir Bors how he would go
  • that night and speak with the queen. Sir, said Sir Bors, ye shall not
  • go this night by my counsel. Why? said Sir Launcelot. Sir, said Sir
  • Bors, I dread me ever of Sir Agravaine, that waiteth you daily to do
  • you shame and us all; and never gave my heart against no going, that
  • ever ye went to the queen, so much as now; for I mistrust that the king
  • is out this night from the queen because peradventure he hath lain some
  • watch for you and the queen, and therefore I dread me sore of treason.
  • Have ye no dread, said Sir Launcelot, for I shall go and come again,
  • and make no tarrying. Sir, said Sir Bors, that me repenteth, for I
  • dread me sore that your going out this night shall wrath us all. Fair
  • nephew, said Sir Launcelot, I marvel much why ye say thus, sithen the
  • queen hath sent for me; and wit ye well I will not be so much a coward,
  • but she shall understand I will see her good grace. God speed you well,
  • said Sir Bors, and send you sound and safe again.
  • CHAPTER III. How Sir Launcelot was espied in the queen’s chamber, and
  • how Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred came with twelve knights to slay him.
  • So Sir Launcelot departed, and took his sword under his arm, and so in
  • his mantle that noble knight put himself in great Jeopardy; and so he
  • passed till he came to the queen’s chamber, and then Sir Launcelot was
  • lightly put into the chamber. And then, as the French book saith, the
  • queen and Launcelot were together. And whether they were abed or at
  • other manner of disports, me list not hereof make no mention, for love
  • that time was not as is now-a-days. But thus as they were together,
  • there came Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred, with twelve knights with them
  • of the Round Table, and they said with crying voice: Traitor-knight,
  • Sir Launcelot du Lake, now art thou taken. And thus they cried with a
  • loud voice, that all the court might hear it; and they all fourteen
  • were armed at all points as they should fight in a battle. Alas said
  • Queen Guenever, now are we mischieved both Madam, said Sir Launcelot,
  • is there here any armour within your chamber, that I might cover my
  • poor body withal? An if there be any give it me, and I shall soon stint
  • their malice, by the grace of God. Truly, said the queen, I have none
  • armour, shield, sword, nor spear; wherefore I dread me sore our long
  • love is come to a mischievous end, for I hear by their noise there be
  • many noble knights, and well I wot they be surely armed, and against
  • them ye may make no resistance. Wherefore ye are likely to be slain,
  • and then shall I be brent. For an ye might escape them, said the queen,
  • I would not doubt but that ye would rescue me in what danger that ever
  • I stood in. Alas, said Sir Launcelot, in all my life thus was I never
  • bestead, that I should be thus shamefully slain for lack of mine
  • armour.
  • But ever in one Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred cried: Traitor-knight,
  • come out of the queen’s chamber, for wit thou well thou art so beset
  • that thou shalt not escape. O Jesu mercy, said Sir Launcelot, this
  • shameful cry and noise I may not suffer, for better were death at once
  • than thus to endure this pain. Then he took the queen in his arms, and
  • kissed her, and said: Most noble Christian queen, I beseech you as ye
  • have been ever my special good lady, and I at all times your true poor
  • knight unto my power, and as I never failed you in right nor in wrong
  • sithen the first day King Arthur made me knight, that ye will pray for
  • my soul if that I here be slain; for well I am assured that Sir Bors,
  • my nephew, and all the remnant of my kin, with Sir Lavaine and Sir
  • Urre, that they will not fail you to rescue you from the fire; and
  • therefore, mine own lady, recomfort yourself, whatsomever come of me,
  • that ye go with Sir Bors, my nephew, and Sir Urre, and they all will do
  • you all the pleasure that they can or may, that ye shall live like a
  • queen upon my lands. Nay, Launcelot, said the queen, wit thou well I
  • will never live after thy days, but an thou be slain I will take my
  • death as meekly for Jesu Christ’s sake as ever did any Christian queen.
  • Well, madam, said I-auncelot, sith it is so that the day is come that
  • our love must depart, wit you well I shall sell my life as dear as I
  • may; and a thousandfold, said Sir Launcelot, I am more heavier for you
  • than for myself. And now I had liefer than to be lord of all
  • Christendom, that I had sure armour upon me, that men might speak of my
  • deeds or ever I were slain. Truly, said the queen, I would an it might
  • please God that they would take me and slay me, and suffer you to
  • escape. That shall never be, said Sir Launcelot, God defend me from
  • such a shame, but Jesu be Thou my shield and mine armour!
  • CHAPTER IV. How Sir Launcelot slew Sir Colgrevance, and armed him in
  • his harness, and after slew Sir Agravaine, and twelve of his fellows.
  • And therewith Sir Launcelot wrapped his mantle about his arm well and
  • surely; and by then they had gotten a great form out of the hall, and
  • therewithal they rashed at the door. Fair lords, said Sir Launcelot,
  • leave your noise and your rashing, and I shall set open this door, and
  • then may ye do with me what it liketh you. Come off then, said they
  • all, and do it, for it availeth thee not to strive against us all; and
  • therefore let us into this chamber, and we shall save thy life until
  • thou come to King Arthur. Then Launcelot unbarred the door, and with
  • his left hand he held it open a little, so that but one man might come
  • in at once; and so there came striding a good knight, a much man and
  • large, and his name was Colgrevance of Gore, and he with a sword struck
  • at Sir Launcelot mightily; and he put aside the stroke, and gave him
  • such a buffet upon the helmet, that he fell grovelling dead within the
  • chamber door. And then Sir Launcelot with great might drew that dead
  • knight within the chamber door; and Sir Launcelot with help of the
  • queen and her ladies was lightly armed in Sir Colgrevance’s armour.
  • And ever stood Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred crying: Traitor-knight,
  • come out of the queen’s chamber. Leave your noise, said Sir Launcelot
  • unto Sir Agravaine, for wit you well, Sir Agravaine, ye shall not
  • prison me this night; and therefore an ye do by my counsel, go ye all
  • from this chamber door, and make not such crying and such manner of
  • slander as ye do; for I promise you by my knighthood, an ye will depart
  • and make no more noise, I shall as to-morn appear afore you all before
  • the king, and then let it be seen which of you all, outher else ye all,
  • that will accuse me of treason; and there I shall answer you as a
  • knight should, that hither I came to the queen for no manner of mal
  • engin, and that will I prove and make it good upon you with my hands.
  • Fie on thee, traitor, said Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred, we will have
  • thee maugre thy head, and slay thee if we list; for we let thee wit we
  • have the choice of King Arthur to save thee or to slay thee. Ah sirs,
  • said Sir Launcelot, is there none other grace with you? then keep
  • yourself.
  • So then Sir Launcelot set all open the chamber door, and mightily and
  • knightly he strode in amongst them; and anon at the first buffet he
  • slew Sir Agravaine. And twelve of his fellows after, within a little
  • while after, he laid them cold to the earth, for there was none of the
  • twelve that might stand Sir Launcelot one buffet. Also Sir Launcelot
  • wounded Sir Mordred, and he fled with all his might. And then Sir
  • Launcelot returned again unto the queen, and said: Madam, now wit you
  • well all our true love is brought to an end, for now will King Arthur
  • ever be my foe; and therefore, madam, an it like you that I may have
  • you with me, I shall save you from all manner adventures dangerous.
  • That is not best, said the queen; meseemeth now ye have done so much
  • harm, it will be best ye hold you still with this. And if ye see that
  • as to-morn they will put me unto the death, then may ye rescue me as ye
  • think best. I will well, said Sir Launcelot, for have ye no doubt,
  • while I am living I shall rescue you. And then he kissed her, and
  • either gave other a ring; and so there he left the queen, and went
  • until his lodging.
  • CHAPTER V. How Sir Launcelot came to Sir Bors, and told him how he had
  • sped, and in what adventure he had been, and how he had escaped.
  • When Sir Bors saw Sir Launcelot he was never so glad of his home-coming
  • as he was then. Jesu mercy, said Sir Launcelot, why be ye all armed:
  • what meaneth this? Sir, said Sir Bors, after ye were departed from us,
  • we all that be of your blood and your well-willers were so dretched
  • that some of us leapt out of our beds naked, and some in their dreams
  • caught naked swords in their hands; therefore, said Sir Bors, we deem
  • there is some great strife at hand; and then we all deemed that ye were
  • betrapped with some treason, and therefore we made us thus ready, what
  • need that ever ye were in.
  • My fair nephew, said Sir Launcelot unto Sir Bors, now shall ye wit all,
  • that this night I was more harder bestead than ever I was in my life,
  • and yet I escaped. And so he told them all how and in what manner, as
  • ye have heard to-fore. And therefore, my fellows, said Sir Launcelot, I
  • pray you all that ye will be of good heart in what need somever I
  • stand, for now is war come to us all. Sir, said Bors, all is welcome
  • that God sendeth us, and we have had much weal with you and much
  • worship, and therefore we will take the woe with you as we have taken
  • the weal. And therefore, they said all (there were many good knights),
  • look ye take no discomfort, for there nis no bands of knights under
  • heaven but we shall be able to grieve them as much as they may us. And
  • therefore discomfort not yourself by no manner, and we shall gather
  • together that we love, and that loveth us, and what that ye will have
  • done shall be done. And therefore, Sir Launcelot, said they, we will
  • take the woe with the weal. Grant mercy, said Sir Launcelot, of your
  • good comfort, for in my great distress, my fair nephew, ye comfort me
  • greatly, and much I am beholding unto you. But this, my fair nephew, I
  • would that ye did in all haste that ye may, or it be forth days, that
  • ye will look in their lodging that be lodged here nigh about the king,
  • which will hold with me, and which will not, for now I would know which
  • were my friends from my foes. Sir, said Sir Bors, I shall do my pain,
  • and or it be seven of the clock I shall wit of such as ye have said
  • before, who will hold with you.
  • Then Sir Bors called unto him Sir Lionel, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir
  • Blamore de Ganis, Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, Sir Gahalantine, Sir
  • Galihodin, Sir Galihud, Sir Menadeuke Sir Villiers the Valiant, Sir
  • Hebes le Renoumes, Sir Lavaine Sir Urre of Hungary, Sir Nerounes, Sir
  • Plenorius. These two knights Sir Launcelot made, and the one he won
  • upon a bridge, and therefore they would never be against him. And Harry
  • le Fise du Lake, and Sir Selises of the Dolorous Tower, and Sir Melias
  • de Lile, and Sir Bellangere le Beuse, that was Sir Alisander’s son Le
  • Orphelin, because his mother Alice le Beale Pellerin and she was kin
  • unto Sir Launcelot, and he held with him. So there came Sir Palomides
  • and Sir Safere, his brother, to hold with Sir Launcelot, and Sir Clegis
  • of Sadok, and Sir Dinas, Sir Clarius of Cleremont. So these
  • two-and-twenty knights drew them together, and by then they were armed
  • on horseback, and promised Sir Launcelot to do what he would. Then
  • there fell to them, what of North Wales and of Cornwall, for Sir
  • Lamorak’s sake and for Sir Tristram’s sake, to the number of a
  • fourscore knights.
  • My lords, said Sir Launcelot, wit you well, I have been ever since I
  • came into this country well willed unto my lord, King Arthur, and unto
  • my lady, Queen Guenever, unto my power; and this night because my lady
  • the queen sent for me to speak with her, I suppose it was made by
  • treason, howbeit I dare largely excuse her person, notwithstanding I
  • was there by a forecast near slain, but as Jesu provided me I escaped
  • all their malice and treason. And then that noble knight Sir Launcelot
  • told them all how he was hard bestead in the queen’s chamber, and how
  • and in what manner he escaped from them. And therefore, said Sir
  • Launcelot, wit you well, my fair lords, I am sure there nis but war
  • unto me and mine. And for because I have slain this night these
  • knights, I wot well, as is Sir Agravaine Sir Gawaine’s brother, and at
  • the least twelve of his fellows, for this cause now I am sure of mortal
  • war, for these knights were sent and ordained by King Arthur to betray
  • me. And therefore the king will in his heat and malice judge the queen
  • to the fire, and that may I not suffer, that she should be brent for my
  • sake; for an I may be heard and suffered and so taken, I will fight for
  • the queen, that she is a true lady unto her lord; but the king in his
  • heat I dread me will not take me as I ought to be taken.
  • CHAPTER VI. Of the counsel and advice that was taken by Sir Launcelot
  • and his friends for to save the queen.
  • My lord, Sir Launcelot, said Sir Bors, by mine advice ye shall take the
  • woe with the weal, and take it in patience, and thank God of it. And
  • sithen it is fallen as it is, I counsel you keep yourself, for an ye
  • will yourself, there is no fellowship of knights christened that shall
  • do you wrong. Also I will counsel you my lord, Sir Launcelot, than an
  • my lady, Queen Guenever, be in distress, insomuch as she is in pain for
  • your sake, that ye knightly rescue her; an ye did otherwise, all the
  • world will speak of you shame to the world’s end. Insomuch as ye were
  • taken with her, whether ye did right or wrong, it is now your part to
  • hold with the queen, that she be not slain and put to a mischievous
  • death, for an she so die the shame shall be yours. Jesu defend me from
  • shame, said Sir Launcelot, and keep and save my lady the queen from
  • villainy and shameful death, and that she never be destroyed in my
  • default; wherefore my fair lords, my kin, and my friends, said Sir
  • Launcelot, what will ye do? Then they said all: We will do as ye will
  • do. I put this to you, said Sir Launcelot, that if my lord Arthur by
  • evil counsel will to-morn in his heat put my lady the queen to the fire
  • there to be brent, now I pray you counsel me what is best to do. Then
  • they said all at once with one voice: Sir, us thinketh best that ye
  • knightly rescue the queen, insomuch as she shall be brent it is for
  • your sake; and it is to suppose, an ye might be handled, ye should have
  • the same death, or a more shamefuler death. And sir, we say all, that
  • ye have many times rescued her from death for other men’s quarrels, us
  • seemeth it is more your worship that ye rescue the queen from this
  • peril, insomuch she hath it for your sake.
  • Then Sir Launcelot stood still, and said: My fair lords, wit you well I
  • would be loath to do that thing that should dishonour you or my blood,
  • and wit you well I would be loath that my lady, the queen, should die a
  • shameful death; but an it be so that ye will counsel me to rescue her,
  • I must do much harm or I rescue her; and peradventure I shall there
  • destroy some of my best friends, that should much repent me; and
  • peradventure there be some, an they could well bring it about, or
  • disobey my lord King Arthur, they would soon come to me, the which I
  • were loath to hurt. And if so be that I rescue her, where shall I keep
  • her? That shall be the least care of us all, said Sir Bors. How did the
  • noble knight Sir Tristram, by your good will? kept not he with him La
  • Beale Isoud near three year in Joyous Gard? the which was done by your
  • alther device, and that same place is your own; and in likewise may ye
  • do an ye list, and take the queen lightly away, if it so be the king
  • will judge her to be brent; and in Joyous Gard ye may keep her long
  • enough until the heat of the king be past. And then shall ye bring
  • again the queen to the king with great worship; and then peradventure
  • ye shall have thank for her bringing home, and love and thank where
  • other shall have maugre.
  • That is hard to do, said Sir Launcelot, for by Sir Tristram I may have
  • a warning, for when by means of treaties, Sir Tristram brought again La
  • Beale Isoud unto King Mark from Joyous Gard, look what befell on the
  • end, how shamefully that false traitor King Mark slew him as he sat
  • harping afore his lady La Beale Isoud, with a grounden glaive he thrust
  • him in behind to the heart. It grieveth me, said Sir Launcelot, to
  • speak of his death, for all the world may not find such a knight. All
  • this is truth, said Sir Bors, but there is one thing shall courage you
  • and us all, ye know well King Arthur and King Mark were never like of
  • conditions, for there was never yet man could prove King Arthur untrue
  • of his promise.
  • So to make short tale, they were all consented that for better outher
  • for worse, if so were that the queen were on that morn brought to the
  • fire, shortly they all would rescue her. And so by the advice of Sir
  • Launcelot, they put them all in an embushment in a wood, as nigh
  • Carlisle as they might, and there they abode still, to wit what the
  • king would do.
  • CHAPTER VII. How Sir Mordred rode hastily to the king, to tell him of
  • the affray and death of Sir Agravaine and the other knights.
  • Now turn we again unto Sir Mordred, that when he was escaped from the
  • noble knight, Sir Launcelot, he anon gat his horse and mounted upon
  • him, and rode unto King Arthur, sore wounded and smitten, and all
  • forbled; and there he told the king all how it was, and how they were
  • all slain save himself all only. Jesu mercy, how may this be? said the
  • king; took ye him in the queen’s chamber? Yea, so God me help, said Sir
  • Mordred, there we found him unarmed, and there he slew Colgrevance, and
  • armed him in his armour; and all this he told the king from the
  • beginning to the ending. Jesu mercy, said the king, he is a marvellous
  • knight of prowess. Alas, me sore repenteth, said the king, that ever
  • Sir Launcelot should be against me. Now I am sure the noble fellowship
  • of the Round Table is broken for ever, for with him will many a noble
  • knight hold; and now it is fallen so, said the king, that I may not
  • with my worship, but the queen must suffer the death. So then there was
  • made great ordinance in this heat, that the queen must be judged to the
  • death. And the law was such in those days that whatsomever they were,
  • of what estate or degree, if they were found guilty of treason, there
  • should be none other remedy but death; and outher the men or the taking
  • with the deed should be causer of their hasty judgment. And right so
  • was it ordained for Queen Guenever, because Sir Mordred was escaped
  • sore wounded, and the death of thirteen knights of the Round Table.
  • These proofs and experiences caused King Arthur to command the queen to
  • the fire there to be brent.
  • Then spake Sir Gawaine, and said: My lord Arthur, I would counsel you
  • not to be over-hasty, but that ye would put it in respite, this
  • judgment of my lady the queen, for many causes. One it is, though it
  • were so that Sir Launcelot were found in the queen’s chamber, yet it
  • might be so that he came thither for none evil; for ye know my lord,
  • said Sir Gawaine, that the queen is much beholden unto Sir Launcelot,
  • more than unto any other knight, for ofttimes he hath saved her life,
  • and done battle for her when all the court refused the queen; and
  • peradventure she sent for him for goodness and for none evil, to reward
  • him for his good deeds that he had done to her in times past. And
  • peradventure my lady, the queen, sent for him to that intent that Sir
  • Launcelot should come to her good grace privily and secretly, weening
  • to her that it was best so to do, in eschewing and dreading of slander;
  • for ofttimes we do many things that we ween it be for the best, and yet
  • peradventure it turneth to the worst. For I dare say, said Sir Gawaine,
  • my lady, your queen, is to you both good and true; and as for Sir
  • Launcelot, said Sir Gawaine, I dare say he will make it good upon any
  • knight living that will put upon himself villainy or shame, and in like
  • wise he will make good for my lady, Dame Guenever.
  • That I believe well, said King Arthur, but I will not that way with Sir
  • Launcelot, for he trusteth so much upon his hands and his might that he
  • doubteth no man; and therefore for my queen he shall never fight more,
  • for she shall have the law. And if I may get Sir Launcelot, wit you
  • well he shall have a shameful death. Jesu defend, said Sir Gawaine,
  • that I may never see it. Why say ye so? said King Arthur; forsooth ye
  • have no cause to love Sir Launcelot, for this night last past he slew
  • your brother, Sir Agravaine, a full good knight, and almost he had
  • slain your other brother, Sir Mordred, and also there he slew thirteen
  • noble knights; and also, Sir Gawaine, remember you he slew two sons of
  • yours, Sir Florence and Sir Lovel. My lord, said Sir Gawaine, of all
  • this I have knowledge, of whose deaths I repent me sore; but insomuch I
  • gave them warning, and told my brethren and my sons aforehand what
  • would fall in the end, insomuch they would not do by my counsel, I will
  • not meddle me thereof, nor revenge me nothing of their deaths; for I
  • told them it was no boot to strive with Sir Launcelot. Howbeit I am
  • sorry of the death of my brethren and of my sons, for they are the
  • causers of their own death; for ofttimes I warned my brother Sir
  • Agravaine, and I told him the perils the which be now fallen.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How Sir Launcelot and his kinsmen rescued the queen from
  • the fire, and how he slew many knights.
  • Then said the noble King Arthur to Sir Gawaine: Dear nephew, I pray you
  • make you ready in your best armour, with your brethren, Sir Gaheris and
  • Sir Gareth, to bring my queen to the fire, there to have her judgment
  • and receive the death. Nay, my most noble lord, said Sir Gawaine, that
  • will I never do; for wit you well I will never be in that place where
  • so noble a queen as is my lady, Dame Guenever, shall take a shameful
  • end. For wit you well, said Sir Gawaine, my heart will never serve me
  • to see her die; and it shall never be said that ever I was of your
  • counsel of her death.
  • Then said the king to Sir Gawaine: Suffer your brothers Sir Gaheris and
  • Sir Gareth to be there. My lord, said Sir Gawaine, wit you well they
  • will be loath to be there present, because of many adventures the which
  • be like there to fall, but they are young and full unable to say you
  • nay. Then spake Sir Gaheris, and the good knight Sir Gareth, unto Sir
  • Arthur: Sir, ye may well command us to be there, but wit you well it
  • shall be sore against our will; but an we be there by your strait
  • commandment ye shall plainly hold us there excused: we will be there in
  • peaceable wise, and bear none harness of war upon us. In the name of
  • God, said the king, then make you ready, for she shall soon have her
  • judgment anon. Alas, said Sir Gawaine, that ever I should endure to see
  • this woful day. So Sir Gawaine turned him and wept heartily, and so he
  • went into his chamber; and then the queen was led forth without
  • Carlisle, and there she was despoiled into her smock. And so then her
  • ghostly father was brought to her, to be shriven of her misdeeds. Then
  • was there weeping, and wailing, and wringing of hands, of many lords
  • and ladies, but there were but few in comparison that would bear any
  • armour for to strength the death of the queen.
  • Then was there one that Sir Launcelot had sent unto that place for to
  • espy what time the queen should go unto her death; and anon as he saw
  • the queen despoiled into her smock, and so shriven, then he gave Sir
  • Launcelot warning. Then was there but spurring and plucking up of
  • horses, and right so they came to the fire. And who that stood against
  • them, there were they slain; there might none withstand Sir Launcelot,
  • so all that bare arms and withstood them, there were they slain, full
  • many a noble knight. For there was slain Sir Belliance le Orgulous, Sir
  • Segwarides, Sir Griflet, Sir Brandiles, Sir Aglovale, Sir Tor; Sir
  • Gauter, Sir Gillimer, Sir Reynolds’ three brethren; Sir Damas, Sir
  • Priamus, Sir Kay the Stranger, Sir Driant, Sir Lambegus, Sir Herminde;
  • Sir Pertilope, Sir Perimones, two brethren that were called the Green
  • Knight and the Red Knight. And so in this rushing and hurling, as Sir
  • Launcelot thrang here and there, it mishapped him to slay Gaheris and
  • Sir Gareth, the noble knight, for they were unarmed and unware. For as
  • the French book saith, Sir Launcelot smote Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris
  • upon the brain-pans, wherethrough they were slain in the field; howbeit
  • in very truth Sir Launcelot saw them not, and so were they found dead
  • among the thickest of the press.
  • Then when Sir Launcelot had thus done, and slain and put to flight all
  • that would withstand him, then he rode straight unto Dame Guenever, and
  • made a kirtle and a gown to be cast upon her; and then he made her to
  • be set behind him, and prayed her to be of good cheer. Wit you well the
  • queen was glad that she was escaped from the death. And then she
  • thanked God and Sir Launcelot; and so he rode his way with the queen,
  • as the French book saith, unto Joyous Gard, and there he kept her as a
  • noble knight should do; and many great lords and some kings sent Sir
  • Launcelot many good knights, and many noble knights drew unto Sir
  • Launcelot. When this was known openly, that King Arthur and Sir
  • Launcelot were at debate, many knights were glad of their debate, and
  • many were full heavy of their debate.
  • CHAPTER IX. Of the sorrow and lamentation of King Arthur for the death
  • of his nephews and other good knights, and also for the queen, his
  • wife.
  • So turn we again unto King Arthur, that when it was told him how and in
  • what manner of wise the queen was taken away from the fire, and when he
  • heard of the death of his noble knights, and in especial of Sir Gaheris
  • and Sir Gareth’s death, then the king swooned for pure sorrow. And when
  • he awoke of his swoon, then he said: Alas, that ever I bare crown upon
  • my head! for now have I lost the fairest fellowship of noble knights
  • that ever held Christian king together. Alas, my good knights be slain
  • away from me: now within these two days I have lost forty knights, and
  • also the noble fellowship of Sir Launcelot and his blood, for now I may
  • never hold them together no more with my worship. Alas that ever this
  • war began. Now fair fellows, said the king, I charge you that no man
  • tell Sir Gawaine of the death of his two brethren; for I am sure, said
  • the king, when Sir Gawaine heareth tell that Sir Gareth is dead he will
  • go nigh out of his mind. Mercy Jesu, said the king, why slew he Sir
  • Gareth and Sir Gaheris, for I dare say as for Sir Gareth he loved Sir
  • Launcelot above all men earthly. That is truth, said some knights, but
  • they were slain in the hurtling as Sir Launcelot thrang in the thick of
  • the press; and as they were unarmed he smote them and wist not whom
  • that he smote, and so unhappily they were slain. The death of them,
  • said Arthur, will cause the greatest mortal war that ever was; I am
  • sure, wist Sir Gawaine that Sir Gareth were slain, I should never have
  • rest of him till I had destroyed Sir Launcelot’s kin and himself both,
  • outher else he to destroy me. And therefore, said the king, wit you
  • well my heart was never so heavy as it is now, and much more I am
  • sorrier for my good knights’ loss than for the loss of my fair queen;
  • for queens I might have enow, but such a fellowship of good knights
  • shall never be together in no company. And now I dare say, said King
  • Arthur, there was never Christian king held such a fellowship together;
  • and alas that ever Sir Launcelot and I should be at debate. Ah
  • Agravaine, Agravaine, said the king, Jesu forgive it thy soul, for
  • thine evil will, that thou and thy brother Sir Mordred hadst unto Sir
  • Launcelot, hath caused all this sorrow: and ever among these complaints
  • the king wept and swooned.
  • Then there came one unto Sir Gawaine, and told him how the queen was
  • led away with Sir Launcelot, and nigh a twenty-four knights slain. O
  • Jesu defend my brethren, said Sir Gawaine, for full well wist I that
  • Sir Launcelot would rescue her, outher else he would die in that field;
  • and to say the truth he had not been a man of worship had he not
  • rescued the queen that day, insomuch she should have been brent for his
  • sake. And as in that, said Sir Gawaine, he hath done but knightly, and
  • as I would have done myself an I had stood in like case. But where are
  • my brethren? said Sir Gawaine, I marvel I hear not of them. Truly, said
  • that man, Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris be slain. Jesu defend, said Sir
  • Gawaine, for all the world I would not that they were slain, and in
  • especial my good brother, Sir Gareth. Sir, said the man, he is slain,
  • and that is great pity. Who slew him? said Sir Gawaine. Sir, said the
  • man, Launcelot slew them both. That may I not believe, said Sir
  • Gawaine, that ever he slew my brother, Sir Gareth; for I dare say my
  • brother Gareth loved him better than me, and all his brethren, and the
  • king both. Also I dare say, an Sir Launcelot had desired my brother Sir
  • Gareth, with him he would have been with him against the king and us
  • all, and therefore I may never believe that Sir Launcelot slew my
  • brother. Sir, said this man, it is noised that he slew him.
  • CHAPTER X. How King Arthur at the request of Sir Gawaine concluded to
  • make war against Sir Launcelot, and laid siege to his castle called
  • Joyous Gard.
  • Alas, said Sir Gawaine, now is my joy gone. And then he fell down and
  • swooned, and long he lay there as he had been dead. And then, when he
  • arose of his swoon, he cried out sorrowfully, and said: Alas! And right
  • so Sir Gawaine ran to the king, crying and weeping: O King Arthur, mine
  • uncle, my good brother Sir Gareth is slain, and so is my brother Sir
  • Gaheris, the which were two noble knights. Then the king wept, and he
  • both; and so they fell a-swooning. And when they were revived then
  • spake Sir Gawaine: Sir, I will go see my brother, Sir Gareth. Ye may
  • not see him, said the king, for I caused him to be interred, and Sir
  • Gaheris both; for I well understood that ye would make over-much
  • sorrow, and the sight of Sir Gareth should have caused your double
  • sorrow. Alas, my lord, said Sir Gawaine, how slew he my brother, Sir
  • Gareth? Mine own good lord I pray you tell me. Truly, said the king, I
  • shall tell you how it is told me, Sir Launcelot slew him and Sir
  • Gaheris both. Alas, said Sir Gawaine, they bare none arms against him,
  • neither of them both. I wot not how it was, said the king, but as it is
  • said, Sir Launcelot slew them both in the thickest of the press and
  • knew them not; and therefore let us shape a remedy for to revenge their
  • deaths.
  • My king, my lord, and mine uncle, said Sir Gawaine, wit you well now I
  • shall make you a promise that I shall hold by my knighthood, that from
  • this day I shall never fail Sir Launcelot until the one of us have
  • slain the other. And therefore I require you, my lord and king, dress
  • you to the war, for wit you well I will be revenged upon Sir Launcelot;
  • and therefore, as ye will have my service and my love, now haste you
  • thereto, and assay your friends. For I promise unto God, said Sir
  • Gawaine, for the death of my brother, Sir Gareth, I shall seek Sir
  • Launcelot throughout seven kings’ realms, but I shall slay him or else
  • he shall slay me. Ye shall not need to seek him so far, said the king,
  • for as I hear say, Sir Launcelot will abide me and you in the Joyous
  • Gard; and much people draweth unto him, as I hear say. That may I
  • believe, said Sir Gawaine; but my lord, he said, assay your friends,
  • and I will assay mine. It shall be done, said the king, and as I
  • suppose I shall be big enough to draw him out of the biggest tower of
  • his castle.
  • So then the king sent letters and writs throughout all England, both in
  • the length and the breadth, for to assummon all his knights. And so
  • unto Arthur drew many knights, dukes, and earls, so that he had a great
  • host. And when they were assembled, the king informed them how Sir
  • Launcelot had bereft him his queen. Then the king and all his host made
  • them ready to lay siege about Sir Launcelot, where he lay within Joyous
  • Gard. Thereof heard Sir Launcelot, and purveyed him of many good
  • knights, for with him held many knights; and some for his own sake, and
  • some for the queen’s sake. Thus they were on both parties well
  • furnished and garnished of all manner of thing that longed to the war.
  • But King Arthur’s host was so big that Sir Launcelot would not abide
  • him in the field, for he was full loath to do battle against the king;
  • but Sir Launcelot drew him to his strong castle with all manner of
  • victual, and as many noble men as he might suffice within the town and
  • the castle. Then came King Arthur with Sir Gawaine with an huge host,
  • and laid a siege all about Joyous Gard, both at the town and at the
  • castle, and there they made strong war on both parties. But in no wise
  • Sir Launcelot would ride out, nor go out of his castle, of long time;
  • neither he would none of his good knights to issue out, neither none of
  • the town nor of the castle, until fifteen weeks were past.
  • CHAPTER XI. Of the communication between King Arthur and Sir Launcelot,
  • and how King Arthur reproved him.
  • Then it befell upon a day in harvest time, Sir Launcelot looked over
  • the walls, and spake on high unto King Arthur and Sir Gawaine: My lords
  • both, wit ye well all is in vain that ye make at this siege, for here
  • win ye no worship but maugre and dishonour; for an it list me to come
  • myself out and my good knights, I should full soon make an end of this
  • war. Come forth, said Arthur unto Launcelot, an thou durst, and I
  • promise thee I shall meet thee in midst of the field. God defend me,
  • said Sir Launcelot, that ever I should encounter with the most noble
  • king that made me knight. Fie upon thy fair language, said the king,
  • for wit you well and trust it, I am thy mortal foe, and ever will to my
  • death day; for thou hast slain my good knights, and full noble men of
  • my blood, that I shall never recover again. Also thou hast lain by my
  • queen, and holden her many winters, and sithen like a traitor taken her
  • from me by force.
  • My most noble lord and king, said Sir Launcelot, ye may say what ye
  • will, for ye wot well with yourself will I not strive; but thereas ye
  • say I have slain your good knights, I wot well that I have done so, and
  • that me sore repenteth; but I was enforced to do battle with them in
  • saving of my life, or else I must have suffered them to have slain me.
  • And as for my lady, Queen Guenever, except your person of your
  • highness, and my lord Sir Gawaine, there is no knight under heaven that
  • dare make it good upon me, that ever I was a traitor unto your person.
  • And where it please you to say that I have holden my lady your queen
  • years and winters, unto that I shall ever make a large answer, and
  • prove it upon any knight that beareth the life, except your person and
  • Sir Gawaine, that my lady, Queen Guenever, is a true lady unto your
  • person as any is living unto her lord, and that will I make good with
  • my hands. Howbeit it hath liked her good grace to have me in chierte,
  • and to cherish me more than any other knight; and unto my power I again
  • have deserved her love, for ofttimes, my lord, ye have consented that
  • she should be brent and destroyed, in your heat, and then it fortuned
  • me to do battle for her, and or I departed from her adversary they
  • confessed their untruth, and she full worshipfully excused. And at such
  • times, my lord Arthur, said Sir Launcelot, ye loved me, and thanked me
  • when I saved your queen from the fire; and then ye promised me for ever
  • to be my good lord; and now methinketh ye reward me full ill for my
  • good service. And my good lord, meseemeth I had lost a great part of my
  • worship in my knighthood an I had suffered my lady, your queen, to have
  • been brent, and insomuch she should have been brent for my sake. For
  • sithen I have done battles for your queen in other quarrels than in
  • mine own, meseemeth now I had more right to do battle for her in right
  • quarrel. And therefore my good and gracious lord, said Sir Launcelot,
  • take your queen unto your good grace, for she is both fair, true, and
  • good.
  • Fie on thee, false recreant knight, said Sir Gawaine; I let thee wit my
  • lord, mine uncle, King Arthur, shall have his queen and thee, maugre
  • thy visage, and slay you both whether it please him. It may well be,
  • said Sir Launcelot, but wit you well, my lord Sir Gawaine, an me list
  • to come out of this castle ye should win me and the queen more harder
  • than ever ye won a strong battle. Fie on thy proud words, said Sir
  • Gawaine; as for my lady, the queen, I will never say of her shame. But
  • thou, false and recreant knight, said Sir Gawaine, what cause hadst
  • thou to slay my good brother Sir Gareth, that loved thee more than all
  • my kin? Alas thou madest him knight thine own hands; why slew thou him
  • that loved thee so well? For to excuse me, said Sir Launcelot, it
  • helpeth me not, but by Jesu, and by the faith that I owe to the high
  • order of knighthood, I should with as good will have slain my nephew,
  • Sir Bors de Ganis, at that time. But alas that ever I was so unhappy,
  • said Launcelot, that I had not seen Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris.
  • Thou liest, recreant knight, said Sir Gawaine, thou slewest him in
  • despite of me; and therefore, wit thou well I shall make war to thee,
  • and all the while that I may live. That me repenteth, said Sir
  • Launcelot; for well I understand it helpeth not to seek none accordment
  • while ye, Sir Gawaine, are so mischievously set. And if ye were not, I
  • would not doubt to have the good grace of my lord Arthur. I believe it
  • well, false recreant knight, said Sir Gawaine; for thou hast many long
  • days overled me and us all, and destroyed many of our good knights. Ye
  • say as it pleaseth you, said Sir Launcelot; and yet may it never be
  • said on me, and openly proved, that ever I by forecast of treason slew
  • no good knight, as my lord, Sir Gawaine, ye have done; and so did I
  • never, but in my defence that I was driven thereto, in saving of my
  • life. Ah, false knight, said Sir Gawaine, that thou meanest by Sir
  • Lamorak: wit thou well I slew him. Ye slew him not yourself, said Sir
  • Launcelot; it had been overmuch on hand for you to have slain him, for
  • he was one of the best knights christened of his age, and it was great
  • pity of his death.
  • CHAPTER XII. How the cousins and kinsmen of Sir Launcelot excited him
  • to go out to battle, and how they made them ready.
  • Well, well, said Sir Gawaine to Launcelot, sithen thou enbraidest me of
  • Sir Lamorak, wit thou well I shall never leave thee till I have thee at
  • such avail that thou shalt not escape my hands. I trust you well
  • enough, said Sir Launcelot, an ye may get me I get but little mercy.
  • But as the French book saith, the noble King Arthur would have taken
  • his queen again, and have been accorded with Sir Launcelot, but Sir
  • Gawaine would not suffer him by no manner of mean. And then Sir Gawaine
  • made many men to blow upon Sir Launcelot; and all at once they called
  • him false recreant knight.
  • Then when Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Ector de Maris, and Sir Lionel, heard
  • this outcry, they called to them Sir Palomides, Sir Safere’s brother,
  • and Sir Lavaine, with many more of their blood, and all they went unto
  • Sir Launcelot, and said thus: My lord Sir Launcelot, wit ye well we
  • have great scorn of the great rebukes that we heard Gawaine say to you;
  • wherefore we pray you, and charge you as ye will have our service, keep
  • us no longer within these walls; for wit you well plainly, we will ride
  • into the field and do battle with them; for ye fare as a man that were
  • afeard, and for all your fair speech it will not avail you. For wit you
  • well Sir Gawaine will not suffer you to be accorded with King Arthur,
  • and therefore fight for your life and your right, an ye dare. Alas,
  • said Sir Launcelot, for to ride out of this castle, and to do battle, I
  • am full loath.
  • Then Sir Launcelot spake on high unto Sir Arthur and Sir Gawaine: My
  • lords, I require you and beseech you, sithen that I am thus required
  • and conjured to ride into the field, that neither you, my lord King
  • Arthur, nor you Sir Gawaine, come not into the field. What shall we do
  • then? said Sir Gawaine, [N]is this the king’s quarrel with thee to
  • fight? and it is my quarrel to fight with thee, Sir Launcelot, because
  • of the death of my brother Sir Gareth. Then must I needs unto battle,
  • said Sir Launcelot. Now wit you well, my lord Arthur and Sir Gawaine,
  • ye will repent it whensomever I do battle with you.
  • And so then they departed either from other; and then either party made
  • them ready on the morn for to do battle, and great purveyance was made
  • on both sides; and Sir Gawaine let purvey many knights for to wait upon
  • Sir Launcelot, for to overset him and to slay him. And on the morn at
  • underne Sir Arthur was ready in the field with three great hosts. And
  • then Sir Launcelot’s fellowship came out at three gates, in a full good
  • array; and Sir Lionel came in the foremost battle, and Sir Launcelot
  • came in the middle, and Sir Bors came out at the third gate. Thus they
  • came in order and rule, as full noble knights; and always Sir Launcelot
  • charged all his knights in any wise to save King Arthur and Sir
  • Gawaine.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How Sir Gawaine jousted and smote down Sir Lionel, and
  • how Sir Launcelot horsed King Arthur.
  • Then came forth Sir Gawaine from the king’s host, and he came before
  • and proffered to joust. And Sir Lionel was a fierce knight, and lightly
  • he encountered with Sir Gawaine; and there Sir Gawaine smote Sir Lionel
  • through out the body, that he dashed to the earth like as he had been
  • dead; and then Sir Ector de Maris and other more bare him into the
  • castle. Then there began a great stour, and much people was slain; and
  • ever Sir Launcelot did what he might to save the people on King
  • Arthur’s party, for Sir Palomides, and Sir Bors, and Sir Safere,
  • overthrew many knights, for they were deadly knights. And Sir Blamore
  • de Ganis, and Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, with Sir Bellangere le Beuse,
  • these six knights did much harm; and ever King Arthur was nigh about
  • Sir Launcelot to have slain him, and Sir Launcelot suffered him, and
  • would not strike again. So Sir Bors encountered with King Arthur, and
  • there with a spear Sir Bors smote him down; and so he alighted and drew
  • his sword, and said to Sir Launcelot: Shall I make an end of this war?
  • and that he meant to have slain King Arthur. Not so hardy, said Sir
  • Launcelot, upon pain of thy head, that thou touch him no more, for I
  • will never see that most noble king that made me knight neither slain
  • ne shamed. And therewithal Sir Launcelot alighted off his horse and
  • took up the king and horsed him again, and said thus: My lord Arthur,
  • for God’s love stint this strife, for ye get here no worship, and I
  • would do mine utterance, but always I forbear you, and ye nor none of
  • yours forbeareth me; my lord, remember what I have done in many places,
  • and now I am evil rewarded.
  • Then when King Arthur was on horseback, he looked upon Sir Launcelot,
  • and then the tears brast out of his eyen, thinking on the great
  • courtesy that was in Sir Launcelot more than in any other man; and
  • therewith the king rode his way, and might no longer behold him, and
  • said: Alas, that ever this war began. And then either parties of the
  • battles withdrew them to repose them, and buried the dead, and to the
  • wounded men they laid soft salves; and thus they endured that night
  • till on the morn. And on the morn by underne they made them ready to do
  • battle. And then Sir Bors led the forward.
  • So upon the morn there came Sir Gawaine as brim as any boar, with a
  • great spear in his hand. And when Sir Bors saw him he thought to
  • revenge his brother Sir Lionel of the despite that Sir Gawaine did him
  • the other day. And so they that knew either other feutred their spears,
  • and with all their mights of their horses and themselves, they met
  • together so felonously that either bare other through, and so they fell
  • both to the earth; and then the battles joined, and there was much
  • slaughter on both parties. Then Sir Launcelot rescued Sir Bors, and
  • sent him into the castle; but neither Sir Gawaine nor Sir Bors died not
  • of their wounds, for they were all holpen. Then Sir Lavaine and Sir
  • Urre prayed Sir Launcelot to do his pain, and fight as they had done;
  • For we see ye forbear and spare, and that doth much harm; therefore we
  • pray you spare not your enemies no more than they do you. Alas, said
  • Sir Launcelot, I have no heart to fight against my lord Arthur, for
  • ever meseemeth I do not as I ought to do. My lord, said Sir Palomides,
  • though ye spare them all this day they will never con you thank; and if
  • they may get you at avail ye are but dead. So then Sir Launcelot
  • understood that they said him truth; and then he strained himself more
  • than he did aforehand, and because his nephew Sir Bors was sore
  • wounded. And then within a little while, by evensong time, Sir
  • Launcelot and his party better stood, for their horses went in blood
  • past the fetlocks, there was so much people slain. And then for pity
  • Sir Launcelot withheld his knights, and suffered King Arthur’s party
  • for to withdraw them aside. And then Sir Launcelot’s party withdrew
  • them into his castle, and either parties buried the dead, and put salve
  • unto the wounded men.
  • So when Sir Gawaine was hurt, they on King Arthur’s party were not so
  • orgulous as they were toforehand to do battle. Of this war was noised
  • through all Christendom, and at the last it was noised afore the Pope;
  • and he considering the great goodness of King Arthur, and of Sir
  • Launcelot, that was called the most noblest knights of the world,
  • wherefore the Pope called unto him a noble clerk that at that time was
  • there present; the French book saith, it was the Bishop of Rochester;
  • and the Pope gave him bulls under lead unto King Arthur of England,
  • charging him upon pain of interdicting of all England, that he take his
  • queen Dame Guenever unto him again, and accord with Sir Launcelot.
  • CHAPTER XIV. How the Pope sent down his bulls to make peace, and how
  • Sir Launcelot brought the queen to King Arthur.
  • So when this Bishop was come to Carlisle he shewed the king these
  • bulls. And when the king understood these bulls he nist what to do:
  • full fain he would have been accorded with Sir Launcelot, but Sir
  • Gawaine would not suffer him; but as for to have the queen, thereto he
  • agreed. But in nowise Sir Gawaine would not suffer the king to accord
  • with Sir Launcelot; but as for the queen he consented. And then the
  • Bishop had of the king his great seal, and his assurance as he was a
  • true anointed king that Sir Launcelot should come safe, and go safe,
  • and that the queen should not be spoken unto of the king, nor of none
  • other, for no thing done afore time past; and of all these appointments
  • the Bishop brought with him sure assurance and writing, to shew Sir
  • Launcelot.
  • So when the Bishop was come to Joyous Gard, there he shewed Sir
  • Launcelot how the Pope had written to Arthur and unto him, and there he
  • told him the perils if he withheld the queen from the king. It was
  • never in my thought, said Launcelot, to withhold the queen from my lord
  • Arthur; but, insomuch she should have been dead for my sake, meseemeth
  • it was my part to save her life, and put her from that danger, till
  • better recover might come. And now I thank God, said Sir Launcelot,
  • that the Pope hath made her peace; for God knoweth, said Sir Launcelot,
  • I will be a thousandfold more gladder to bring her again, than ever I
  • was of her taking away; with this, I may be sure to come safe and go
  • safe, and that the queen shall have her liberty as she had before; and
  • never for no thing that hath been surmised afore this time, she never
  • from this day stand in no peril. For else, said Sir Launcelot, I dare
  • adventure me to keep her from an harder shour than ever I kept her. It
  • shall not need you, said the Bishop, to dread so much; for wit you
  • well, the Pope must be obeyed, and it were not the Pope’s worship nor
  • my poor honesty to wit you distressed, neither the queen, neither in
  • peril, nor shamed. And then he shewed Sir Launcelot all his writing,
  • both from the Pope and from King Arthur. This is sure enough, said Sir
  • Launcelot, for full well I dare trust my lord’s own writing and his
  • seal, for he was never shamed of his promise. Therefore, said Sir
  • Launcelot unto the Bishop, ye shall ride unto the king afore, and
  • recommend me unto his good grace, and let him have knowledging that
  • this same day eight days, by the grace of God, I myself shall bring my
  • lady, Queen Guenever, unto him. And then say ye unto my most redoubted
  • king, that I will say largely for the queen, that I shall none except
  • for dread nor fear, but the king himself, and my lord Sir Gawaine; and
  • that is more for the king’s love than for himself.
  • So the Bishop departed and came to the king at Carlisle, and told him
  • all how Sir Launcelot answered him; and then the tears brast out of the
  • king’s eyen. Then Sir Launcelot purveyed him an hundred knights, and
  • all were clothed in green velvet, and their horses trapped to their
  • heels; and every knight held a branch of olive in his hand, in tokening
  • of peace. And the queen had four-and-twenty gentlewomen following her
  • in the same wise; and Sir Launcelot had twelve coursers following him,
  • and on every courser sat a young gentleman, and all they were arrayed
  • in green velvet, with sarps of gold about their quarters, and the horse
  • trapped in the same wise down to the heels, with many ouches, y-set
  • with stones and pearls in gold, to the number of a thousand. And she
  • and Sir Launcelot were clothed in white cloth of gold tissue; and right
  • so as ye have heard, as the French book maketh mention, he rode with
  • the queen from Joyous Gard to Carlisle. And so Sir Launcelot rode
  • throughout Carlisle, and so in the castle, that all men might behold;
  • and wit you well there was many a weeping eye. And then Sir Launcelot
  • himself alighted and avoided his horse, and took the queen, and so led
  • her where King Arthur was in his seat: and Sir Gawaine sat afore him,
  • and many other great lords. So when Sir Launcelot saw the king and Sir
  • Gawaine, then he led the queen by the arm, and then he kneeled down,
  • and the queen both. Wit you well then was there many bold knight there
  • with King Arthur that wept as tenderly as though they had seen all
  • their kin afore them. So the king sat still, and said no word. And when
  • Sir Launcelot saw his countenance, he arose and pulled up the queen
  • with him, and thus he spake full knightly.
  • CHAPTER XV. Of the deliverance of the queen to the king by Sir
  • Launcelot, and what language Sir Gawaine had to Sir Launcelot.
  • My most redoubted king, ye shall understand, by the Pope’s commandment
  • and yours, I have brought to you my lady the queen, as right requireth;
  • and if there be any knight, of whatsomever degree that he be, except
  • your person, that will say or dare say but that she is true and clean
  • to you, I here myself, Sir Launcelot du Lake, will make it good upon
  • his body, that she is a true lady unto you; but liars ye have listened,
  • and that hath caused debate betwixt you and me. For time hath been, my
  • lord Arthur, that ye have been greatly pleased with me when I did
  • battle for my lady, your queen; and full well ye know, my most noble
  • king, that she hath been put to great wrong or this time; and sithen it
  • pleased you at many times that I should fight for her, meseemeth, my
  • good lord, I had more cause to rescue her from the fire, insomuch she
  • should have been brent for my sake. For they that told you those tales
  • were liars, and so it fell upon them; for by likelihood had not the
  • might of God been with me, I might never have endured fourteen knights,
  • and they armed and afore purposed, and I unarmed and not purposed. For
  • I was sent for unto my lady your queen, I wot not for what cause; but I
  • was not so soon within the chamber door, but anon Sir Agravaine and Sir
  • Mordred called me traitor and recreant knight. They called thee right,
  • said Sir Gawaine. My lord Sir Gawaine, said Sir Launcelot, in their
  • quarrel they proved themselves not in the right. Well well, Sir
  • Launcelot, said the king, I have given thee no cause to do to me as
  • thou hast done, for I have worshipped thee and thine more than any of
  • all my knights.
  • My good lord, said Sir Launcelot, so ye be not displeased, ye shall
  • understand I and mine have done you oft better service than any other
  • knights have done, in many divers places; and where ye have been full
  • hard bestead divers times, I have myself rescued you from many dangers;
  • and ever unto my power I was glad to please you, and my lord Sir
  • Gawaine; both in jousts, and tournaments, and in battles set, both on
  • horseback and on foot, I have often rescued you, and my lord Sir
  • Gawaine, and many mo of your knights in many divers places. For now I
  • will make avaunt, said Sir Launcelot, I will that ye all wit that yet I
  • found never no manner of knight but that I was overhard for him, an I
  • had done my utterance, thanked be God; howbeit I have been matched with
  • good knights, as Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorak, but ever I had a favour
  • unto them and a deeming what they were. And I take God to record, said
  • Sir Launcelot, I never was wroth nor greatly heavy with no good knight
  • an I saw him busy about to win worship; and glad I was ever when I
  • found any knight that might endure me on horseback and on foot: howbeit
  • Sir Carados of the Dolorous Tower was a full noble knight and a passing
  • strong man, and that wot ye, my lord Sir Gawaine; for he might well be
  • called a noble knight when he by fine force pulled you out of your
  • saddle, and bound you overthwart afore him to his saddle bow; and
  • there, my lord Sir Gawaine, I rescued you, and slew him afore your
  • sight. Also I found his brother, Sir Turquin, in likewise leading Sir
  • Gaheris, your brother, bounden afore him; and there I rescued your
  • brother and slew that Turquin, and delivered three-score-and-four of my
  • lord Arthur’s knights out of his prison. And now I dare say, said Sir
  • Launcelot, I met never with so strong knights, nor so well fighting, as
  • was Sir Carados and Sir Turquin, for I fought with them to the
  • uttermost. And therefore, said Sir Launcelot unto Sir Gawaine,
  • meseemeth ye ought of right to remember this; for, an I might have your
  • good will, I would trust to God to have my lord Arthur’s good grace.
  • CHAPTER XVI. Of the communication between Sir Gawaine and Sir
  • Launcelot, with much other language.
  • The king may do as he will, said Sir Gawaine, but wit thou well, Sir
  • Launcelot, thou and I shall never be accorded while we live, for thou
  • hast slain three of my brethren; and two of them ye slew traitorly and
  • piteously, for they bare none harness against thee, nor none would
  • bear. God would they had been armed, said Sir Launcelot, for then had
  • they been alive. And wit ye well Sir Gawaine, as for Sir Gareth, I love
  • none of my kinsmen so much as I did him; and ever while I live, said
  • Sir Launcelot, I will bewail Sir Gareth’s death, not all only for the
  • great fear I have of you, but many causes cause me to be sorrowful. One
  • is, for I made him knight; another is, I wot well he loved me above all
  • other knights; and the third is, he was passing noble, true, courteous,
  • and gentle, and well conditioned; the fourth is, I wist well, anon as I
  • heard that Sir Gareth was dead, I should never after have your love,
  • but everlasting war betwixt us; and also I wist well that ye would
  • cause my noble lord Arthur for ever to be my mortal foe. And as Jesu be
  • my help, said Sir Launcelot, I slew never Sir Gareth nor Sir Gaheris by
  • my will; but alas that ever they were unarmed that unhappy day. But
  • thus much I shall offer me, said Sir Launcelot, if it may please the
  • king’s good grace, and you, my lord Sir Gawaine, I shall first begin at
  • Sandwich, and there I shall go in my shirt, barefoot; and at every ten
  • miles’ end I will found and gar make an house of religion, of what
  • order that ye will assign me, with an whole convent, to sing and read,
  • day and night, in especial for Sir Gareth’s sake and Sir Gaheris. And
  • this shall I perform from Sandwich unto Carlisle; and every house shall
  • have sufficient livelihood. And this shall I perform while I have any
  • livelihood in Christendom; and there nis none of all these religious
  • places, but they shall be performed, furnished and garnished in all
  • things as an holy place ought to be, I promise you faithfully. And
  • this, Sir Gawaine, methinketh were more fairer, holier, and more better
  • to their souls, than ye, my most noble king, and you, Sir Gawaine, to
  • war upon me, for thereby shall ye get none avail.
  • Then all knights and ladies that were there wept as they were mad, and
  • the tears fell on King Arthur’s cheeks. Sir Launcelot, said Sir
  • Gawaine, I have right well heard thy speech, and thy great proffers,
  • but wit thou well, let the king do as it pleased him, I will never
  • forgive my brothers’ death, and in especial the death of my brother,
  • Sir Gareth. And if mine uncle, King Arthur, will accord with thee, he
  • shall lose my service, for wit thou well thou art both false to the
  • king and to me. Sir, said Launcelot he beareth not the life that may
  • make that good and if ye, Sir Gawaine, will charge me with so high a
  • thing, ye must pardon me, for then needs must I answer you. Nay, said
  • Sir Gawaine, we are past that at this time, and that caused the Pope,
  • for he hath charged mine uncle, the king, that he shall take his queen
  • again, and to accord with thee, Sir Launcelot, as for this season, and
  • therefore thou shalt go safe as thou camest. But in this land thou
  • shalt not abide past fifteen days, such summons I give thee: so the
  • king and we were consented and accorded or thou camest. And else, said
  • Sir Gawaine, wit thou well thou shouldst not have come here, but if it
  • were maugre thy head. And if it were not for the Pope’s commandment,
  • said Sir Gawaine, I should do battle with mine own body against thy
  • body, and prove it upon thee, that thou hast been both false unto mine
  • uncle King Arthur, and to me both; and that shall I prove upon thy
  • body, when thou art departed from hence, wheresomever I find thee.
  • CHAPTER XVII. How Sir Launcelot departed from the king and from Joyous
  • Gard over seaward, and what knights went with him.
  • Then Sir Launcelot sighed, and therewith the tears fell on his cheeks,
  • and then he said thus: Alas, most noble Christian realm, whom I have
  • loved above all other realms, and in thee I have gotten a great part of
  • my worship, and now I shall depart in this wise. Truly me repenteth
  • that ever I came in this realm, that should be thus shamefully
  • banished, undeserved and causeless; but fortune is so variant, and the
  • wheel so moveable, there nis none constant abiding, and that may be
  • proved by many old chronicles, of noble Ector, and Troilus, and
  • Alisander, the mighty conqueror, and many mo other; when they were most
  • in their royalty, they alighted lowest. And so fareth it by me, said
  • Sir Launcelot, for in this realm I had worship, and by me and mine all
  • the whole Round Table hath been increased more in worship, by me and
  • mine blood, than by any other. And therefore wit thou well, Sir
  • Gawaine, I may live upon my lands as well as any knight that here is.
  • And if ye, most redoubted king, will come upon my lands with Sir
  • Gawaine to war upon me, I must endure you as well as I may. But as to
  • you, Sir Gawaine, if that ye come there, I pray you charge me not with
  • treason nor felony, for an ye do, I must answer you. Do thou thy best,
  • said Sir Gawaine; therefore hie thee fast that thou were gone, and wit
  • thou well we shall soon come after, and break the strongest castle that
  • thou hast, upon thy head. That shall not need, said Sir Launcelot, for
  • an I were as orgulous set as ye are, wit you well I should meet you in
  • midst of the field. Make thou no more language, said Sir Gawaine, but
  • deliver the queen from thee, and pike thee lightly out of this court.
  • Well, said Sir Launcelot, an I had wist of this short coming, I would
  • have advised me twice or that I had come hither; for an the queen had
  • been so dear to me as ye noise her, I durst have kept her from the
  • fellowship of the best knights under heaven.
  • And then Sir Launcelot said unto Guenever, in hearing of the king and
  • them all: Madam, now I must depart from you and this noble fellowship
  • for ever; and sithen it is so, I beseech you to pray for me, and say me
  • well; and if ye be hard bestead by any false tongues, lightly my lady
  • send me word, and if any knight’s hands may deliver you by battle, I
  • shall deliver you. And therewithal Sir Launcelot kissed the queen; and
  • then he said all openly. Now let see what he be in this place that dare
  • say the queen is not true unto my lord Arthur, let see who will speak
  • an he dare speak. And therewith he brought the queen to the king, and
  • then Sir Launcelot took his leave and departed; and there was neither
  • king, duke, nor earl, baron nor knight, lady nor gentlewoman, but all
  • they wept as people out of their mind, except Sir Gawaine. And when the
  • noble Sir Launcelot took his horse to ride out of Carlisle, there was
  • sobbing and weeping for pure dole of his departing; and so he took his
  • way unto Joyous Gard. And then ever after he called it the Dolorous
  • Gard. And thus departed Sir Launcelot from the court for ever.
  • And so when he came to Joyous Gard he called his fellowship unto him,
  • and asked them what they would do Then they answered all wholly
  • together with one voice they would as he would do. My fair fellows,
  • said Sir Launcelot, I must depart out of this most noble realm, and now
  • I shall depart it grieveth me sore, for I shall depart with no worship,
  • for a flemed man departed never out of a realm with no worship; and
  • that is my heaviness, for ever I fear after my days that men shall
  • chronicle upon me that I was flemed out of this land; and else, my fair
  • lords, be ye sure, an I had not dread shame, my lady, Queen Guenever,
  • and I should never have departed.
  • Then spake many noble knights, as Sir Palomides, Sir Safere his
  • brother, and Sir Bellingere le Beuse, and Sir Urre, with Sir Lavaine,
  • with many others: Sir, an ye be so disposed to abide in this land we
  • will never fail you; and if ye list not to abide in this land there nis
  • none of the good knights that here be will fail you, for many causes.
  • One is, all we that be not of your blood shall never be welcome to the
  • court. And sithen it liked us to take a part with you in your distress
  • and heaviness in this realm, wit you well it shall like us as well to
  • go in other countries with you, and there to take such part as ye do.
  • My fair lords, said Sir Launcelot, I well understand you, and as I can,
  • thank you: and ye shall understand, such livelihood as I am born unto I
  • shall depart with you in this manner of wise; that is for to say, I
  • shall depart all my livelihood and all my lands freely among you, and I
  • myself will have as little as any of you, for have I sufficient that
  • may long to my person, I will ask none other rich array; and I trust to
  • God to maintain you on my lands as well as ever were maintained any
  • knights. Then spake all the knights at once: He have shame that will
  • leave you; for we all understand in this realm will be now no quiet,
  • but ever strife and debate, now the fellowship of the Round Table is
  • broken; for by the noble fellowship of the Round Table was King Arthur
  • upborne, and by their noblesse the king and all his realm was in quiet
  • and rest, and a great part they said all was because of your noblesse.
  • CHAPTER XVIII. How Sir Launcelot passed over the sea, and how he made
  • great lords of the knights that went with him.
  • Truly, said Sir Launcelot, I thank you all of your good saying,
  • howbeit, I wot well, in me was not all the stability of this realm, but
  • in that I might I did my devoir; and well I am sure I knew many
  • rebellions in my days that by me were peaced, and I trow we all shall
  • hear of them in short space, and that me sore repenteth. For ever I
  • dread me, said Sir Launcelot, that Sir Mordred will make trouble, for
  • he is passing envious and applieth him to trouble. So they were
  • accorded to go with Sir Launcelot to his lands; and to make short tale,
  • they trussed, and paid all that would ask them; and wholly an hundred
  • knights departed with Sir Launcelot at once, and made their avows they
  • would never leave him for weal nor for woe.
  • And so they shipped at Cardiff, and sailed unto Benwick: some men call
  • it Bayonne, and some men call it Beaune, where the wine of Beaune is.
  • But to say the sooth, Sir Launcelot and his nephews were lords of all
  • France, and of all the lands that longed unto France; he and his
  • kindred rejoiced it all through Sir Launcelot’s noble prowess. And then
  • Sir Launcelot stuffed and furnished and garnished all his noble towns
  • and castles. Then all the people of those lands came to Sir Launcelot
  • on foot and hands. And so when he had stablished all these countries,
  • he shortly called a parliament; and there he crowned Sir Lionel, King
  • of France; and Sir Bors [he] crowned him king of all King Claudas’
  • lands; and Sir Ector de Maris, that was Sir Launcelot’s youngest
  • brother, he crowned him King of Benwick, and king of all Guienne, that
  • was Sir Launcelot’s own land. And he made Sir Ector prince of them all,
  • and thus he departed.
  • Then Sir Launcelot advanced all his noble knights, and first he
  • advanced them of his blood; that was Sir Blamore, he made him Duke of
  • Limosin in Guienne and Sir Bleoberis he made him Duke of Poictiers, and
  • Sir Gahalantine he made him Duke of Querne, and Sir Galihodin he made
  • him Duke of Sentonge, and Sir Galihud he made him Earl of Perigot, and
  • Sir Menadeuke he made him Earl of Roerge, and Sir Villiars the Valiant
  • he made him Earl of Bearn, and Sir Hebes le Renoumes he made him Earl
  • of Comange, and Sir Lavaine he made him Earl of Arminak, and Sir Urre
  • he made him Earl of Estrake, and Sir Neroneus he made him Earl of
  • Pardiak, and Sir Plenorius he made Earl of Foise, and Sir Selises of
  • the Dolorous Tower he made him Earl of Masauke, and Sir Melias de Lile
  • he made him Earl of Tursauk, and Sir Bellangere le Beuse he made Earl
  • of the Launds, and Sir Palomides he made him Duke of the Provence, and
  • Sir Safere he made him Duke of Landok, and Sir Clegis he gave him the
  • Earldom of Agente, and Sir Sadok he gave the Earldom of Surlat, and Sir
  • Dinas le Seneschal he made him Duke of Anjou, and Sir Clarrus he made
  • him Duke of Normandy. Thus Sir Launcelot rewarded his noble knights and
  • many more, that meseemeth it were too long to rehearse
  • CHAPTER XIX. How King Arthur and Sir Gawaine made a great host ready to
  • go over sea to make war on Sir Launcelot.
  • So leave we Sir Launcelot in his lands, and his noble knights with him,
  • and return we again unto King Arthur and to Sir Gawaine, that made a
  • great host ready, to the number of threescore thousand; and all thing
  • was made ready for their shipping to pass over the sea, and so they
  • shipped at Cardiff. And there King Arthur made Sir Mordred chief ruler
  • of all England, and also he put Queen Guenever under his governance;
  • because Sir Mordred was King Arthur’s son, he gave him the rule of his
  • land and of his wife; and so the king passed the sea and landed upon
  • Sir Launcelot’s lands, and there he brent and wasted, through the
  • vengeance of Sir Gawaine, all that they might overrun.
  • When this word came to Sir Launcelot, that King Arthur and Sir Gawaine
  • were landed upon his lands, and made a full great destruction and
  • waste, then spake Sir Bors, and said: My lord Sir Launcelot, it is
  • shame that we suffer them thus to ride over our lands, for wit you
  • well, suffer ye them as long as ye will, they will do you no favour an
  • they may handle you. Then said Sir Lionel that was wary and wise: My
  • lord Sir Launcelot, I will give this counsel, let us keep our strong
  • walled towns until they have hunger and cold, and blow on their nails;
  • and then let us freshly set upon them, and shred them down as sheep in
  • a field, that aliens may take example for ever how they land upon our
  • lands.
  • Then spake King Bagdemagus to Sir Launcelot: Sir, your courtesy will
  • shende us all, and thy courtesy hath waked all this sorrow; for an they
  • thus over our lands ride, they shall by process bring us all to nought
  • whilst we thus in holes us hide. Then said Sir Galihud unto Sir
  • Launcelot: Sir, here be knights come of kings’ blood, that will not
  • long droop, and they are within these walls; therefore give us leave,
  • like as we be knights, to meet them in the field, and we shall slay
  • them, that they shall curse the time that ever they came into this
  • country. Then spake seven brethren of North Wales, and they were seven
  • noble knights; a man might seek in seven kings’ lands or he might find
  • such seven knights. Then they all said at once: Sir Launcelot, for
  • Christ’s sake let us out ride with Sir Galihud, for we be never wont to
  • cower in castles nor in noble towns.
  • Then spake Sir Launcelot, that was master and governor of them all: My
  • fair lords, wit you well I am full loath to ride out with my knights
  • for shedding of Christian blood; and yet my lands I understand be full
  • bare for to sustain any host awhile, for the mighty wars that whilom
  • made King Claudas upon this country, upon my father King Ban, and on
  • mine uncle King Bors; howbeit we will as at this time keep our strong
  • walls, and I shall send a messenger unto my lord Arthur, a treaty for
  • to take; for better is peace than always war.
  • So Sir Launcelot sent forth a damosel and a dwarf with her, requiring
  • King Arthur to leave his warring upon his lands; and so she start upon
  • a palfrey, and the dwarf ran by her side. And when she came to the
  • pavilion of King Arthur, there she alighted; and there met her a gentle
  • knight, Sir Lucan the Butler, and said: Fair damosel, come ye from Sir
  • Launcelot du Lake? Yea sir, she said, therefore I come hither to speak
  • with my lord the king. Alas, said Sir Lucan, my lord Arthur would love
  • Launcelot, but Sir Gawaine will not suffer him. And then he said: I
  • pray to God, damosel, ye may speed well, for all we that be about the
  • king would Sir Launcelot did best of any knight living. And so with
  • this Lucan led the damosel unto the king where he sat with Sir Gawaine,
  • for to hear what she would say. So when she had told her tale, the
  • water ran out of the king’s eyen, and all the lords were full glad for
  • to advise the king as to be accorded with Sir Launcelot, save all only
  • Sir Gawaine, and he said: My lord mine uncle, what will ye do? Will ye
  • now turn again, now ye are passed thus far upon this journey? all the
  • world will speak of your villainy. Nay, said Arthur, wit thou well, Sir
  • Gawaine, I will do as ye will advise me; and yet meseemeth, said
  • Arthur, his fair proffers were not good to be refused; but sithen I am
  • come so far upon this journey, I will that ye give the damosel her
  • answer, for I may not speak to her for pity, for her proffers be so
  • large.
  • CHAPTER XX. What message Sir Gawaine sent to Sir Launcelot; and how
  • King Arthur laid siege to Benwick, and other matters.
  • Then Sir Gawaine said to the damosel thus: Damosel, say ye to Sir
  • Launcelot that it is waste labour now to sue to mine uncle; for tell
  • him, an he would have made any labour for peace, he should have made it
  • or this time, for tell him now it is too late; and say that I, Sir
  • Gawaine, so send him word, that I promise him by the faith I owe unto
  • God and to knighthood, I shall never leave him till he have slain me or
  • I him. So the damosel wept and departed, and there were many weeping
  • eyen; and so Sir Lucan brought the damosel to her palfrey, and so she
  • came to Sir Launcelot where he was among all his knights. And when Sir
  • Launcelot had heard this answer, then the tears ran down by his cheeks.
  • And then his noble knights strode about him, and said: Sir Launcelot,
  • wherefore make ye such cheer, think what ye are, and what men we are,
  • and let us noble knights match them in midst of the field. That may be
  • lightly done, said Sir Launcelot, but I was never so loath to do
  • battle, and therefore I pray you, fair sirs, as ye love me, be ruled as
  • I will have you, for I will always flee that noble king that made me
  • knight. And when I may no further, I must needs defend me, and that
  • will be more worship for me and us all than to compare with that noble
  • king whom we have all served. Then they held their language, and as
  • that night they took their rest.
  • And upon the morn early, in the dawning of the day, as knights looked
  • out, they saw the city of Benwick besieged round about; and fast they
  • began to set up ladders, and then they defied them out of the town, and
  • beat them from the walls wightly. Then came forth Sir Gawaine well
  • armed upon a stiff steed, and he came before the chief gate, with his
  • spear in his hand, crying: Sir Launcelot, where art thou? is there none
  • of you proud knights dare break a spear with me? Then Sir Bors made him
  • ready, and came forth out of the town, and there Sir Gawaine
  • encountered with Sir Bors. And at that time he smote Sir Bors down from
  • his horse, and almost he had slain him; and so Sir Bors was rescued and
  • borne into the town. Then came forth Sir Lionel, brother to Sir Bors,
  • and thought to revenge him; and either feutred their spears, and ran
  • together; and there they met spitefully, but Sir Gawaine had such grace
  • that he smote Sir Lionel down, and wounded him there passing sore; and
  • then Sir Lionel was rescued and borne into the town. And this Sir
  • Gawaine came every day, and he failed not but that he smote down one
  • knight or other.
  • So thus they endured half a year, and much slaughter was of people on
  • both parties. Then it befell upon a day, Sir Gawaine came afore the
  • gates armed at all pieces on a noble horse, with a great spear in his
  • hand; and then he cried with a loud voice: Where art thou now, thou
  • false traitor, Sir Launcelot? Why hidest thou thyself within holes and
  • walls like a coward? Look out now, thou false traitor knight, and here
  • I shall revenge upon thy body the death of my three brethren. All this
  • language heard Sir Launcelot every deal; and his kin and his knights
  • drew about him, and all they said at once to Sir Launcelot: Sir
  • Launcelot, now must ye defend you like a knight, or else ye be shamed
  • for ever; for, now ye be called upon treason, it is time for you to
  • stir, for ye have slept over-long and suffered over-much. So God me
  • help, said Sir Launcelot, I am right heavy of Sir Gawaine’s words, for
  • now he charged me with a great charge; and therefore I wot it as well
  • as ye, that I must defend me, or else to be recreant.
  • Then Sir Launcelot bade saddle his strongest horse, and bade let fetch
  • his arms, and bring all unto the gate of the tower; and then Sir
  • Launcelot spake on high unto King Arthur, and said: My lord Arthur, and
  • noble king that made me knight, wit you well I am right heavy for your
  • sake, that ye thus sue upon me; and always I forbare you, for an I
  • would have been vengeable, I might have met you in midst of the field,
  • and there to have made your boldest knights full tame. And now I have
  • forborne half a year, and suffered you and Sir Gawaine to do what ye
  • would do; and now may I endure it no longer, for now must I needs
  • defend myself, insomuch Sir Gawaine hath appealed me of treason; the
  • which is greatly against my will that ever I should fight against any
  • of your blood, but now I may not forsake it, I am driven thereto as a
  • beast till a bay.
  • Then Sir Gawaine said: Sir Launcelot, an thou durst do battle, leave
  • thy babbling and come off, and let us ease our hearts. Then Sir
  • Launcelot armed him lightly, and mounted upon his horse, and either of
  • the knights gat great spears in their hands, and the host without stood
  • still all apart, and the noble knights came out of the city by a great
  • number, insomuch that when Arthur saw the number of men and knights, he
  • marvelled, and said to himself: Alas, that ever Sir Launcelot was
  • against me, for now I see he hath forborne me. And so the covenant was
  • made, there should no man nigh them, nor deal with them, till the one
  • were dead or yelden.
  • CHAPTER XXI. How Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine did battle together, and
  • how Sir Gawaine was overthrown and hurt.
  • Then Sir Gawaine and Sir Launcelot departed a great way asunder, and
  • then they came together with all their horses’ might as they might run,
  • and either smote other in midst of their shields; but the knights were
  • so strong, and their spears so big, that their horses might not endure
  • their buffets, and so their horses fell to the earth; and then they
  • avoided their horses, and dressed their shields afore them. Then they
  • stood together and gave many sad strokes on divers places of their
  • bodies, that the blood brast out on many sides and places. Then had Sir
  • Gawaine such a grace and gift that an holy man had given to him, that
  • every day in the year, from underne till high noon, his might increased
  • those three hours as much as thrice his strength, and that caused Sir
  • Gawaine to win great honour. And for his sake King Arthur made an
  • ordinance, that all manner of battles for any quarrels that should be
  • done afore King Arthur should begin at underne; and all was done for
  • Sir Gawaine’s love, that by likelihood, if Sir Gawaine were on the one
  • part, he should have the better in battle while his strength endureth
  • three hours; but there were but few knights that time living that knew
  • this advantage that Sir Gawaine had, but King Arthur all only.
  • Thus Sir Launcelot fought with Sir Gawaine, and when Sir Launcelot felt
  • his might evermore increase, Sir Launcelot wondered and dread him sore
  • to be shamed. For as the French book saith, Sir Launcelot weened, when
  • he felt Sir Gawaine double his strength, that he had been a fiend and
  • none earthly man; wherefore Sir Launcelot traced and traversed, and
  • covered himself with his shield, and kept his might and his braide
  • during three hours; and that while Sir Gawaine gave him many sad
  • brunts, and many sad strokes, that all the knights that beheld Sir
  • Launcelot marvelled how that he might endure him; but full little
  • understood they that travail that Sir Launcelot had for to endure him.
  • And then when it was past noon Sir Gawaine had no more but his own
  • might. When Sir Launcelot felt him so come down, then he stretched him
  • up and stood near Sir Gawaine, and said thus: My lord Sir Gawaine, now
  • I feel ye have done; now my lord Sir Gawaine, I must do my part, for
  • many great and grievous strokes I have endured you this day with great
  • pain.
  • Then Sir Launcelot doubled his strokes and gave Sir Gawaine such a
  • buffet on the helmet that he fell down on his side, and Sir Launcelot
  • withdrew him from him. Why withdrawest thou thee? said Sir Gawaine; now
  • turn again, false traitor knight, and slay me, for an thou leave me
  • thus, when I am whole I shall do battle with thee again. I shall endure
  • you, Sir, by God’s grace, but wit thou well, Sir Gawaine, I will never
  • smite a felled knight. And so Sir Launcelot went into the city; and Sir
  • Gawaine was borne into King Arthur’s pavilion, and leeches were brought
  • to him, and searched and salved with soft ointments. And then Sir
  • Launcelot said: Now have good day, my lord the king, for wit you well
  • ye win no worship at these walls; and if I would my knights outbring,
  • there should many a man die. Therefore, my lord Arthur, remember you of
  • old kindness; and however I fare, Jesu be your guide in all places.
  • CHAPTER XXII. Of the sorrow that King Arthur made for the war, and of
  • another battle where also Sir Gawaine had the worse.
  • Alas, said the king, that ever this unhappy war was begun; for ever Sir
  • Launcelot forbeareth me in all places, and in likewise my kin, and that
  • is seen well this day by my nephew Sir Gawaine. Then King Arthur fell
  • sick for sorrow of Sir Gawaine, that he was so sore hurt, and because
  • of the war betwixt him and Sir Launcelot. So then they on King Arthur’s
  • part kept the siege with little war withoutforth; and they withinforth
  • kept their walls, and defended them when need was. Thus Sir Gawaine lay
  • sick three weeks in his tents, with all manner of leech-craft that
  • might be had. And as soon as Sir Gawaine might go and ride, he armed
  • him at all points, and start upon a courser, and gat a spear in his
  • hand, and so he came riding afore the chief gate of Benwick; and there
  • he cried on height: Where art thou, Sir Launcelot? Come forth, thou
  • false traitor knight and recreant, for I am here, Sir Gawaine, will
  • prove this that I say on thee.
  • All this language Sir Launcelot heard, and then he said thus: Sir
  • Gawaine, me repents of your foul saying, that ye will not cease of your
  • language; for you wot well, Sir Gawaine, I know your might and all that
  • ye may do; and well ye wot, Sir Gawaine, ye may not greatly hurt me.
  • Come down, traitor knight, said he, and make it good the contrary with
  • thy hands, for it mishapped me the last battle to be hurt of thy hands;
  • therefore wit thou well I am come this day to make amends, for I ween
  • this day to lay thee as low as thou laidest me. Jesu defend me, said
  • Sir Launcelot, that ever I be so far in your danger as ye have been in
  • mine, for then my days were done. But Sir Gawaine, said Sir Launcelot,
  • ye shall not think that I tarry long, but sithen that ye so unknightly
  • call me of treason, ye shall have both your hands full of me. And then
  • Sir Launcelot armed him at all points, and mounted upon his horse, and
  • gat a great spear in his hand, and rode out at the gate. And both the
  • hosts were assembled, of them without and of them within, and stood in
  • array full manly. And both parties were charged to hold them still, to
  • see and behold the battle of these two noble knights. And then they
  • laid their spears in their rests, and they came together as thunder,
  • and Sir Gawaine brake his spear upon Sir Launcelot in a hundred pieces
  • unto his hand; and Sir Launcelot smote him with a greater might, that
  • Sir Gawaine’s horse’s feet raised, and so the horse and he fell to the
  • earth. Then Sir Gawaine deliverly avoided his horse, and put his shield
  • afore him, and eagerly drew his sword, and bade Sir Launcelot: Alight,
  • traitor knight, for if this mare’s son hath failed me, wit thou well a
  • king’s son and a queen’s son shall not fail thee.
  • Then Sir Launcelot avoided his horse, and dressed his shield afore him,
  • and drew his sword; and so stood they together and gave many sad
  • strokes, that all men on both parties had thereof passing great wonder.
  • But when Sir Launcelot felt Sir Gawaine’s might so marvellously
  • increase, he then withheld his courage and his wind, and kept himself
  • wonder covert of his might; and under his shield he traced and
  • traversed here and there, to break Sir Gawaine’s strokes and his
  • courage; and Sir Gawaine enforced himself with all his might and power
  • to destroy Sir Launcelot; for as the French book saith, ever as Sir
  • Gawaine’s might increased, right so increased his wind and his evil
  • will. Thus Sir Gawaine did great pain unto Sir Launcelot three hours,
  • that he had right great pain for to defend him.
  • And when the three hours were passed, that Sir Launcelot felt that Sir
  • Gawaine was come to his own proper strength, then Sir Launcelot said
  • unto Sir Gawaine: Now have I proved you twice, that ye are a full
  • dangerous knight, and a wonderful man of your might; and many wonderful
  • deeds have ye done in your days, for by your might increasing you have
  • deceived many a full noble and valiant knight; and, now I feel that ye
  • have done your mighty deeds, now wit you well I must do my deeds. And
  • then Sir Launcelot stood near Sir Gawaine, and then Sir Launcelot
  • doubled his strokes; and Sir Gawaine defended him mightily, but
  • nevertheless Sir Launcelot smote such a stroke upon Sir Gawaine’s helm,
  • and upon the old wound, that Sir Gawaine sinked down upon his one side
  • in a swoon. And anon as he did awake he waved and foined at Sir
  • Launcelot as he lay, and said: Traitor knight, wit thou well I am not
  • yet slain, come thou near me and perform this battle unto the
  • uttermost. I will no more do than I have done, said Sir Launcelot, for
  • when I see you on foot I will do battle upon you all the while I see
  • you stand on your feet; but for to smite a wounded man that may not
  • stand, God defend me from such a shame. And then he turned him and went
  • his way toward the city. And Sir Gawaine evermore calling him traitor
  • knight, and said: Wit thou well Sir Launcelot, when I am whole I shall
  • do battle with thee again, for I shall never leave thee till that one
  • of us be slain. Thus as this siege endured, and as Sir Gawaine lay sick
  • near a month; and when he was well recovered and ready within three
  • days to do battle again with Sir Launcelot, right so came tidings unto
  • Arthur from England that made King Arthur and all his host to remove.
  • _Here followeth the xxi. book._
  • BOOK XXI.
  • CHAPTER I. How Sir Mordred presumed and took on him to be King of
  • England, and would have married the queen, his father’s wife.
  • As Sir Mordred was ruler of all England, he did do make letters as
  • though that they came from beyond the sea, and the letters specified
  • that King Arthur was slain in battle with Sir Launcelot. Wherefore Sir
  • Mordred made a parliament, and called the lords together, and there he
  • made them to choose him king; and so was he crowned at Canterbury, and
  • held a feast there fifteen days; and afterward he drew him unto
  • Winchester, and there he took the Queen Guenever, and said plainly that
  • he would wed her which was his uncle’s wife and his father’s wife. And
  • so he made ready for the feast, and a day prefixed that they should be
  • wedded; wherefore Queen Guenever was passing heavy. But she durst not
  • discover her heart, but spake fair, and agreed to Sir Mordred’s will.
  • Then she desired of Sir Mordred for to go to London, to buy all manner
  • of things that longed unto the wedding. And because of her fair speech
  • Sir Mordred trusted her well enough, and gave her leave to go. And so
  • when she came to London she took the Tower of London, and suddenly in
  • all haste possible she stuffed it with all manner of victual, and well
  • garnished it with men, and so kept it.
  • Then when Sir Mordred wist and understood how he was beguiled, he was
  • passing wroth out of measure. And a short tale for to make, he went and
  • laid a mighty siege about the Tower of London, and made many great
  • assaults thereat, and threw many great engines unto them, and shot
  • great guns. But all might not prevail Sir Mordred, for Queen Guenever
  • would never for fair speech nor for foul, would never trust to come in
  • his hands again.
  • Then came the Bishop of Canterbury, the which was a noble clerk and an
  • holy man, and thus he said to Sir Mordred: Sir, what will ye do? will
  • ye first displease God and sithen shame yourself, and all knighthood?
  • Is not King Arthur your uncle, no farther but your mother’s brother,
  • and on her himself King Arthur begat you upon his own sister, therefore
  • how may you wed your father’s wife? Sir, said the noble clerk, leave
  • this opinion or I shall curse you with book and bell and candle. Do
  • thou thy worst, said Sir Mordred, wit thou well I shall defy thee. Sir,
  • said the Bishop, and wit you well I shall not fear me to do that me
  • ought to do. Also where ye noise where my lord Arthur is slain, and
  • that is not so, and therefore ye will make a foul work in this land.
  • Peace, thou false priest, said Sir Mordred, for an thou chafe me any
  • more I shall make strike off thy head. So the Bishop departed and did
  • the cursing in the most orgulist wise that might be done. And then Sir
  • Mordred sought the Bishop of Canterbury, for to have slain him. Then
  • the Bishop fled, and took part of his goods with him, and went nigh
  • unto Glastonbury; and there he was as priest hermit in a chapel, and
  • lived in poverty and in holy prayers, for well he understood that
  • mischievous war was at hand.
  • Then Sir Mordred sought on Queen Guenever by letters and sonds, and by
  • fair means and foul means, for to have her to come out of the Tower of
  • London; but all this availed not, for she answered him shortly, openly
  • and privily, that she had liefer slay herself than to be married with
  • him. Then came word to Sir Mordred that King Arthur had araised the
  • siege for Sir Launcelot, and he was coming homeward with a great host,
  • to be avenged upon Sir Mordred; wherefore Sir Mordred made write writs
  • to all the barony of this land, and much people drew to him. For then
  • was the common voice among them that with Arthur was none other life
  • but war and strife, and with Sir Mordred was great joy and bliss. Thus
  • was Sir Arthur depraved, and evil said of. And many there were that
  • King Arthur had made up of nought, and given them lands, might not then
  • say him a good word. Lo ye all Englishmen, see ye not what a mischief
  • here was! for he that was the most king and knight of the world, and
  • most loved the fellowship of noble knights, and by him they were all
  • upholden, now might not these Englishmen hold them content with him. Lo
  • thus was the old custom and usage of this land; and also men say that
  • we of this land have not yet lost nor forgotten that custom and usage.
  • Alas, this is a great default of us Englishmen, for there may no thing
  • please us no term. And so fared the people at that time, they were
  • better pleased with Sir Mordred than they were with King Arthur; and
  • much people drew unto Sir Mordred, and said they would abide with him
  • for better and for worse. And so Sir Mordred drew with a great host to
  • Dover, for there he heard say that Sir Arthur would arrive, and so he
  • thought to beat his own father from his lands; and the most part of all
  • England held with Sir Mordred, the people were so new-fangle.
  • CHAPTER II. How after that King Arthur had tidings, he returned and
  • came to Dover, where Sir Mordred met him to let his landing; and of the
  • death of Sir Gawaine.
  • And so as Sir Mordred was at Dover with his host, there came King
  • Arthur with a great navy of ships, and galleys, and carracks. And there
  • was Sir Mordred ready awaiting upon his landing, to let his own father
  • to land upon the land that he was king over. Then there was launching
  • of great boats and small, and full of noble men of arms; and there was
  • much slaughter of gentle knights, and many a full bold baron was laid
  • full low, on both parties. But King Arthur was so courageous that there
  • might no manner of knights let him to land, and his knights fiercely
  • followed him; and so they landed maugre Sir Mordred and all his power,
  • and put Sir Mordred aback, that he fled and all his people.
  • So when this battle was done, King Arthur let bury his people that were
  • dead. And then was noble Sir Gawaine found in a great boat, lying more
  • than half dead When Sir Arthur wist that Sir Gawaine was laid so low;
  • he went unto him; and there the king made sorrow out of measure, and
  • took Sir Gawaine in his arms, and thrice he there swooned. And then
  • when he awaked, he said: Alas, Sir Gawaine, my sister’s son, here now
  • thou liest; the man in the world that I loved most; and now is my joy
  • gone, for now, my nephew Sir Gawaine, I will discover me unto your
  • person: in Sir Launcelot and you I most had my joy, and mine affiance,
  • and now have I lost my joy of you both; wherefore all mine earthly joy
  • is gone from me. Mine uncle King Arthur, said Sir Gawaine, wit you well
  • my death-day is come, and all is through mine own hastiness and
  • wilfulness; for I am smitten upon the old wound the which Sir Launcelot
  • gave me, on the which I feel well I must die; and had Sir Launcelot
  • been with you as he was, this unhappy war had never begun; and of all
  • this am I causer, for Sir Launcelot and his blood, through their
  • prowess, held all your cankered enemies in subjection and daunger. And
  • now, said Sir Gawaine, ye shall miss Sir Launcelot. But alas, I would
  • not accord with him, and therefore, said Sir Gawaine, I pray you, fair
  • uncle, that I may have paper, pen, and ink, that I may write to Sir
  • Launcelot a cedle with mine own hands.
  • And then when paper and ink was brought, then Gawaine was set up weakly
  • by King Arthur, for he was shriven a little to-fore; and then he wrote
  • thus, as the French book maketh mention: Unto Sir Launcelot, flower of
  • all noble knights that ever I heard of or saw by my days, I, Sir
  • Gawaine, King Lot’s son of Orkney, sister’s son unto the noble King
  • Arthur, send thee greeting, and let thee have knowledge that the tenth
  • day of May I was smitten upon the old wound that thou gavest me afore
  • the city of Benwick, and through the same wound that thou gavest me I
  • am come to my death-day. And I will that all the world wit, that I, Sir
  • Gawaine, knight of the Table Round, sought my death, and not through
  • thy deserving, but it was mine own seeking; wherefore I beseech thee,
  • Sir Launcelot, to return again unto this realm, and see my tomb, and
  • pray some prayer more or less for my soul. And this same day that I
  • wrote this cedle, I was hurt to the death in the same wound, the which
  • I had of thy hand, Sir Launcelot; for of a more nobler man might I not
  • be slain. Also Sir Launcelot, for all the love that ever was betwixt
  • us, make no tarrying, but come over the sea in all haste, that thou
  • mayst with thy noble knights rescue that noble king that made thee
  • knight, that is my lord Arthur; for he is full straitly bestead with a
  • false traitor, that is my half-brother, Sir Mordred; and he hath let
  • crown him king, and would have wedded my lady Queen Guenever, and so
  • had he done had she not put herself in the Tower of London. And so the
  • tenth day of May last past, my lord Arthur and we all landed upon them
  • at Dover; and there we put that false traitor, Sir Mordred, to flight,
  • and there it misfortuned me to be stricken upon thy stroke. And at the
  • date of this letter was written, but two hours and a half afore my
  • death, written with mine own hand, and so subscribed with part of my
  • heart’s blood. And I require thee, most famous knight of the world,
  • that thou wilt see my tomb. And then Sir Gawaine wept, and King Arthur
  • wept; and then they swooned both. And when they awaked both, the king
  • made Sir Gawaine to receive his Saviour. And then Sir Gawaine prayed
  • the king for to send for Sir Launcelot, and to cherish him above all
  • other knights.
  • And so at the hour of noon Sir Gawaine yielded up the spirit; and then
  • the king let inter him in a chapel within Dover Castle; and there yet
  • all men may see the skull of him, and the same wound is seen that Sir
  • Launcelot gave him in battle. Then was it told the king that Sir
  • Mordred had pight a new field upon Barham Down. And upon the morn the
  • king rode thither to him, and there was a great battle betwixt them,
  • and much people was slain on both parties; but at the last Sir Arthur’s
  • party stood best, and Sir Mordred and his party fled unto Canterbury.
  • CHAPTER III. How after, Sir Gawaine’s ghost appeared to King Arthur,
  • and warned him that he should not fight that day.
  • And then the king let search all the towns for his knights that were
  • slain, and interred them; and salved them with soft salves that so sore
  • were wounded. Then much people drew unto King Arthur. And then they
  • said that Sir Mordred warred upon King Arthur with wrong. And then King
  • Arthur drew him with his host down by the seaside, westward toward
  • Salisbury; and there was a day assigned betwixt King Arthur and Sir
  • Mordred, that they should meet upon a down beside Salisbury, and not
  • far from the seaside; and this day was assigned on a Monday after
  • Trinity Sunday, whereof King Arthur was passing glad, that he might be
  • avenged upon Sir Mordred. Then Sir Mordred araised much people about
  • London, for they of Kent, Southsex, and Surrey, Estsex, and of
  • Southfolk, and of Northfolk, held the most part with Sir Mordred; and
  • many a full noble knight drew unto Sir Mordred and to the king: but
  • they that loved Sir Launcelot drew unto Sir Mordred.
  • So upon Trinity Sunday at night, King Arthur dreamed a wonderful dream,
  • and that was this: that him seemed he sat upon a chaflet in a chair,
  • and the chair was fast to a wheel, and thereupon sat King Arthur in the
  • richest cloth of gold that might be made; and the king thought there
  • was under him, far from him, an hideous deep black water, and therein
  • were all manner of serpents, and worms, and wild beasts, foul and
  • horrible; and suddenly the king thought the wheel turned up-so-down,
  • and he fell among the serpents, and every beast took him by a limb; and
  • then the king cried as he lay in his bed and slept: Help. And then
  • knights, squires, and yeomen, awaked the king; and then he was so
  • amazed that he wist not where he was; and then he fell a-slumbering
  • again, not sleeping nor thoroughly waking. So the king seemed verily
  • that there came Sir Gawaine unto him with a number of fair ladies with
  • him. And when King Arthur saw him, then he said: Welcome, my sister’s
  • son; I weened thou hadst been dead, and now I see thee alive, much am I
  • beholding unto Almighty Jesu. O fair nephew and my sister’s son, what
  • be these ladies that hither be come with you? Sir, said Sir Gawaine,
  • all these be ladies for whom I have foughten when I was man living, and
  • all these are those that I did battle for in righteous quarrel; and God
  • hath given them that grace at their great prayer, because I did battle
  • for them, that they should bring me hither unto you: thus much hath God
  • given me leave, for to warn you of your death; for an ye fight as
  • to-morn with Sir Mordred, as ye both have assigned, doubt ye not ye
  • must be slain, and the most part of your people on both parties. And
  • for the great grace and goodness that almighty Jesu hath unto you, and
  • for pity of you, and many more other good men there shall be slain, God
  • hath sent me to you of his special grace, to give you warning that in
  • no wise ye do battle as to-morn, but that ye take a treaty for a month
  • day; and proffer you largely, so as to-morn to be put in a delay. For
  • within a month shall come Sir Launcelot with all his noble knights, and
  • rescue you worshipfully, and slay Sir Mordred, and all that ever will
  • hold with him. Then Sir Gawaine and all the ladies vanished.
  • And anon the king called upon his knights, squires, and yeomen, and
  • charged them wightly to fetch his noble lords and wise bishops unto
  • him. And when they were come, the king told them his avision, what Sir
  • Gawaine had told him, and warned him that if he fought on the morn he
  • should be slain. Then the king commanded Sir Lucan the Butler, and his
  • brother Sir Bedivere, with two bishops with them, and charged them in
  • any wise, an they might, Take a treaty for a month day with Sir
  • Mordred, and spare not, proffer him lands and goods as much as ye think
  • best. So then they departed, and came to Sir Mordred, where he had a
  • grim host of an hundred thousand men. And there they entreated Sir
  • Mordred long time; and at the last Sir Mordred was agreed for to have
  • Cornwall and Kent, by Arthur’s days: after, all England, after the days
  • of King Arthur.
  • CHAPTER IV. How by misadventure of an adder the battle began, where
  • Mordred was slain, and Arthur hurt to the death.
  • Then were they condescended that King Arthur and Sir Mordred should
  • meet betwixt both their hosts, and everych of them should bring
  • fourteen persons; and they came with this word unto Arthur. Then said
  • he: I am glad that this is done: and so he went into the field. And
  • when Arthur should depart, he warned all his host that an they see any
  • sword drawn: Look ye come on fiercely, and slay that traitor, Sir
  • Mordred, for I in no wise trust him. In like wise Sir Mordred warned
  • his host that: An ye see any sword drawn, look that ye come on
  • fiercely, and so slay all that ever before you standeth; for in no wise
  • I will not trust for this treaty, for I know well my father will be
  • avenged on me. And so they met as their appointment was, and so they
  • were agreed and accorded thoroughly; and wine was fetched, and they
  • drank. Right soon came an adder out of a little heath bush, and it
  • stung a knight on the foot. And when the knight felt him stung, he
  • looked down and saw the adder, and then he drew his sword to slay the
  • adder, and thought of none other harm. And when the host on both
  • parties saw that sword drawn, then they blew beams, trumpets, and
  • horns, and shouted grimly. And so both hosts dressed them together. And
  • King Arthur took his horse, and said: Alas this unhappy day! and so
  • rode to his party. And Sir Mordred in like wise. And never was there
  • seen a more dolefuller battle in no Christian land; for there was but
  • rushing and riding, foining and striking, and many a grim word was
  • there spoken either to other, and many a deadly stroke. But ever King
  • Arthur rode throughout the battle of Sir Mordred many times, and did
  • full nobly as a noble king should, and at all times he fainted never;
  • and Sir Mordred that day put him in devoir, and in great peril. And
  • thus they fought all the long day, and never stinted till the noble
  • knights were laid to the cold earth; and ever they fought still till it
  • was near night, and by that time was there an hundred thousand laid
  • dead upon the down. Then was Arthur wood wroth out of measure, when he
  • saw his people so slain from him.
  • Then the king looked about him, and then was he ware, of all his host
  • and of all his good knights, were left no more alive but two knights;
  • that one was Sir Lucan the Butler, and his brother Sir Bedivere, and
  • they were full sore wounded. Jesu mercy, said the king, where are all
  • my noble knights become? Alas that ever I should see this doleful day,
  • for now, said Arthur, I am come to mine end. But would to God that I
  • wist where were that traitor Sir Mordred, that hath caused all this
  • mischief. Then was King Arthur ware where Sir Mordred leaned upon his
  • sword among a great heap of dead men. Now give me my spear, said Arthur
  • unto Sir Lucan, for yonder I have espied the traitor that all this woe
  • hath wrought. Sir, let him be, said Sir Lucan, for he is unhappy; and
  • if ye pass this unhappy day ye shall be right well revenged upon him.
  • Good lord, remember ye of your night’s dream, and what the spirit of
  • Sir Gawaine told you this night, yet God of his great goodness hath
  • preserved you hitherto. Therefore, for God’s sake, my lord, leave off
  • by this, for blessed be God ye have won the field, for here we be three
  • alive, and with Sir Mordred is none alive; and if ye leave off now this
  • wicked day of destiny is past. Tide me death, betide me life, saith the
  • king, now I see him yonder alone he shall never escape mine hands, for
  • at a better avail shall I never have him. God speed you well, said Sir
  • Bedivere.
  • Then the king gat his spear in both his hands, and ran toward Sir
  • Mordred, crying: Traitor, now is thy death-day come. And when Sir
  • Mordred heard Sir Arthur, he ran until him with his sword drawn in his
  • hand. And there King Arthur smote Sir Mordred under the shield, with a
  • foin of his spear, throughout the body, more than a fathom. And when
  • Sir Mordred felt that he had his death wound he thrust himself with the
  • might that he had up to the bur of King Arthur’s spear. And right so he
  • smote his father Arthur, with his sword holden in both his hands, on
  • the side of the head, that the sword pierced the helmet and the
  • brain-pan, and therewithal Sir Mordred fell stark dead to the earth;
  • and the noble Arthur fell in a swoon to the earth, and there he swooned
  • ofttimes. And Sir Lucan the Butler and Sir Bedivere ofttimes heaved him
  • up. And so weakly they led him betwixt them both, to a little chapel
  • not far from the seaside. And when the king was there he thought him
  • well eased.
  • Then heard they people cry in the field. Now go thou, Sir Lucan, said
  • the king, and do me to wit what betokens that noise in the field. So
  • Sir Lucan departed, for he was grievously wounded in many places. And
  • so as he yede, he saw and hearkened by the moonlight, how that pillers
  • and robbers were come into the field, to pill and to rob many a full
  • noble knight of brooches, and beads, of many a good ring, and of many a
  • rich jewel; and who that were not dead all out, there they slew them
  • for their harness and their riches. When Sir Lucan understood this
  • work, he came to the king as soon as he might, and told him all what he
  • had heard and seen. Therefore by my rede, said Sir Lucan, it is best
  • that we bring you to some town. I would it were so, said the king.
  • CHAPTER V. How King Arthur commanded to cast his sword Excalibur into
  • the water, and how he was delivered to ladies in a barge.
  • But I may not stand, mine head works so. Ah Sir Launcelot, said King
  • Arthur, this day have I sore missed thee: alas, that ever I was against
  • thee, for now have I my death, whereof Sir Gawaine me warned in my
  • dream. Then Sir Lucan took up the king the one part, and Sir Bedivere
  • the other part, and in the lifting the king swooned; and Sir Lucan fell
  • in a swoon with the lift, that the part of his guts fell out of his
  • body, and therewith the noble knight’s heart brast. And when the king
  • awoke, he beheld Sir Lucan, how he lay foaming at the mouth, and part
  • of his guts lay at his feet. Alas, said the king, this is to me a full
  • heavy sight, to see this noble duke so die for my sake, for he would
  • have holpen me, that had more need of help than I. Alas, he would not
  • complain him, his heart was so set to help me: now Jesu have mercy upon
  • his soul! Then Sir Bedivere wept for the death of his brother. Leave
  • this mourning and weeping, said the king, for all this will not avail
  • me, for wit thou well an I might live myself, the death of Sir Lucan
  • would grieve me evermore; but my time hieth fast, said the king.
  • Therefore, said Arthur unto Sir Bedivere, take thou Excalibur, my good
  • sword, and go with it to yonder water side, and when thou comest there
  • I charge thee throw my sword in that water, and come again and tell me
  • what thou there seest. My lord, said Bedivere, your commandment shall
  • be done, and lightly bring you word again.
  • So Sir Bedivere departed, and by the way he beheld that noble sword,
  • that the pommel and the haft was all of precious stones; and then he
  • said to himself: If I throw this rich sword in the water, thereof shall
  • never come good, but harm and loss. And then Sir Bedivere hid Excalibur
  • under a tree. And so, as soon as he might, he came again unto the king,
  • and said he had been at the water, and had thrown the sword in the
  • water. What saw thou there? said the king. Sir, he said, I saw nothing
  • but waves and winds. That is untruly said of thee, said the king,
  • therefore go thou lightly again, and do my commandment; as thou art to
  • me lief and dear, spare not, but throw it in. Then Sir Bedivere
  • returned again, and took the sword in his hand; and then him thought
  • sin and shame to throw away that noble sword, and so eft he hid the
  • sword, and returned again, and told to the king that he had been at the
  • water, and done his commandment. What saw thou there? said the king.
  • Sir, he said, I saw nothing but the waters wap and waves wan. Ah,
  • traitor untrue, said King Arthur, now hast thou betrayed me twice. Who
  • would have weened that, thou that hast been to me so lief and dear? and
  • thou art named a noble knight, and would betray me for the richness of
  • the sword. But now go again lightly, for thy long tarrying putteth me
  • in great jeopardy of my life, for I have taken cold. And but if thou do
  • now as I bid thee, if ever I may see thee, I shall slay thee with mine
  • own hands; for thou wouldst for my rich sword see me dead.
  • Then Sir Bedivere departed, and went to the sword, and lightly took it
  • up, and went to the water side; and there he bound the girdle about the
  • hilts, and then he threw the sword as far into the water as he might;
  • and there came an arm and an hand above the water and met it, and
  • caught it, and so shook it thrice and brandished, and then vanished
  • away the hand with the sword in the water. So Sir Bedivere came again
  • to the king, and told him what he saw. Alas, said the king, help me
  • hence, for I dread me I have tarried over long. Then Sir Bedivere took
  • the king upon his back, and so went with him to that water side. And
  • when they were at the water side, even fast by the bank hoved a little
  • barge with many fair ladies in it, and among them all was a queen, and
  • all they had black hoods, and all they wept and shrieked when they saw
  • King Arthur. Now put me into the barge, said the king. And so he did
  • softly; and there received him three queens with great mourning; and so
  • they set them down, and in one of their laps King Arthur laid his head.
  • And then that queen said: Ah, dear brother, why have ye tarried so long
  • from me? alas, this wound on your head hath caught over-much cold. And
  • so then they rowed from the land, and Sir Bedivere beheld all those
  • ladies go from him. Then Sir Bedivere cried: Ah my lord Arthur, what
  • shall become of me, now ye go from me and leave me here alone among
  • mine enemies? Comfort thyself, said the king, and do as well as thou
  • mayst, for in me is no trust for to trust in; for I will into the vale
  • of Avilion to heal me of my grievous wound: and if thou hear never more
  • of me, pray for my soul. But ever the queens and ladies wept and
  • shrieked, that it was pity to hear. And as soon as Sir Bedivere had
  • lost the sight of the barge, he wept and wailed, and so took the
  • forest; and so he went all that night, and in the morning he was ware
  • betwixt two holts hoar, of a chapel and an hermitage.
  • CHAPTER VI. How Sir Bedivere found him on the morrow dead in an
  • hermitage, and how he abode there with the hermit.
  • Then was Sir Bedivere glad, and thither he went; and when he came into
  • the chapel, he saw where lay an hermit grovelling on all four, there
  • fast by a tomb was new graven. When the hermit saw Sir Bedivere he knew
  • him well, for he was but little to-fore Bishop of Canterbury, that Sir
  • Mordred flemed. Sir, said Bedivere, what man is there interred that ye
  • pray so fast for? Fair son, said the hermit, I wot not verily, but by
  • deeming. But this night, at midnight, here came a number of ladies, and
  • brought hither a dead corpse, and prayed me to bury him; and here they
  • offered an hundred tapers, and they gave me an hundred besants. Alas,
  • said Sir Bedivere, that was my lord King Arthur, that here lieth buried
  • in this chapel. Then Sir Bedivere swooned; and when he awoke he prayed
  • the hermit he might abide with him still there, to live with fasting
  • and prayers. For from hence will I never go, said Sir Bedivere, by my
  • will, but all the days of my life here to pray for my lord Arthur. Ye
  • are welcome to me, said the hermit, for I know ye better than ye ween
  • that I do. Ye are the bold Bedivere, and the full noble duke, Sir Lucan
  • the Butler, was your brother. Then Sir Bedivere told the hermit all as
  • ye have heard to-fore. So there bode Sir Bedivere with the hermit that
  • was to-fore Bishop of Canterbury, and there Sir Bedivere put upon him
  • poor clothes, and served the hermit full lowly in fasting and in
  • prayers.
  • Thus of Arthur I find never more written in books that be authorised,
  • nor more of the very certainty of his death heard I never read, but
  • thus was he led away in a ship wherein were three queens; that one was
  • King Arthur’s sister, Queen Morgan le Fay; the other was the Queen of
  • Northgalis; the third was the Queen of the Waste Lands. Also there was
  • Nimue, the chief lady of the lake, that had wedded Pelleas the good
  • knight; and this lady had done much for King Arthur, for she would
  • never suffer Sir Pelleas to be in no place where he should be in danger
  • of his life; and so he lived to the uttermost of his days with her in
  • great rest. More of the death of King Arthur could I never find, but
  • that ladies brought him to his burials; and such one was buried there,
  • that the hermit bare witness that sometime was Bishop of Canterbury,
  • but yet the hermit knew not in certain that he was verily the body of
  • King Arthur: for this tale Sir Bedivere, knight of the Table Round,
  • made it to be written.
  • CHAPTER VII. Of the opinion of some men of the death of King Arthur;
  • and how Queen Guenever made her a nun in Almesbury.
  • Yet some men say in many parts of England that King Arthur is not dead,
  • but had by the will of our Lord Jesu into another place; and men say
  • that he shall come again, and he shall win the holy cross. I will not
  • say it shall be so, but rather I will say: here in this world he
  • changed his life. But many men say that there is written upon his tomb
  • this verse: _Hic jacet Arthurus, Rex quondam, Rexque futurus._ Thus
  • leave I here Sir Bedivere with the hermit, that dwelled that time in a
  • chapel beside Glastonbury, and there was his hermitage. And so they
  • lived in their prayers, and fastings, and great abstinence. And when
  • Queen Guenever understood that King Arthur was slain, and all the noble
  • knights, Sir Mordred and all the remnant, then the queen stole away,
  • and five ladies with her, and so she went to Almesbury; and there she
  • let make herself a nun, and ware white clothes and black, and great
  • penance she took, as ever did sinful lady in this land, and never
  • creature could make her merry; but lived in fasting, prayers, and
  • alms-deeds, that all manner of people marvelled how virtuously she was
  • changed. Now leave we Queen Guenever in Almesbury, a nun in white
  • clothes and black, and there she was Abbess and ruler as reason would;
  • and turn we from her, and speak we of Sir Launcelot du Lake.
  • CHAPTER VIII. How when Sir Lancelot heard of the death of King Arthur,
  • and of Sir Gawaine, and other matters, he came into England.
  • And when he heard in his country that Sir Mordred was crowned king in
  • England, and made war against King Arthur, his own father, and would
  • let him to land in his own land; also it was told Sir Launcelot how
  • that Sir Mordred had laid siege about the Tower of London, because the
  • queen would not wed him; then was Sir Launcelot wroth out of measure,
  • and said to his kinsmen: Alas, that double traitor Sir Mordred, now me
  • repenteth that ever he escaped my hands, for much shame hath he done
  • unto my lord Arthur; for all I feel by the doleful letter that my lord
  • Sir Gawaine sent me, on whose soul Jesu have mercy that my lord Arthur
  • is full hard bestead. Alas, said Sir Launcelot, that ever I should live
  • to hear that most noble king that made me knight thus to be overset
  • with his subject in his own realm. And this doleful letter that my
  • lord, Sir Gawaine, hath sent me afore his death, praying me to see his
  • tomb, wit you well his doleful words shall never go from mine heart,
  • for he was a full noble knight as ever was born; and in an unhappy hour
  • was I born that ever I should have that unhap to slay first Sir
  • Gawaine, Sir Gaheris the good knight, and mine own friend Sir Gareth,
  • that full noble knight. Alas, I may say I am unhappy, said Sir
  • Launcelot, that ever I should do thus unhappily, and, alas, yet might I
  • never have hap to slay that traitor, Sir Mordred.
  • Leave your complaints, said Sir Bors, and first revenge you of the
  • death of Sir Gawaine; and it will be well done that ye see Sir
  • Gawaine’s tomb, and secondly that ye revenge my lord Arthur, and my
  • lady, Queen Guenever I thank you, said Sir Launcelot, for ever ye will
  • my worship.
  • Then they made them ready in all the haste that might be, with ships
  • and galleys, with Sir Launcelot and his host to pass into England. And
  • so he passed over the sea till he came to Dover, and there he landed
  • with seven kings, and the number was hideous to behold. Then Sir
  • Launcelot spered of men of Dover where was King Arthur become. Then the
  • people told him how that he was slain, and Sir Mordred and an hundred
  • thousand died on a day; and how Sir Mordred gave King Arthur there the
  • first battle at his landing, and there was good Sir Gawaine slain; and
  • on the morn Sir Mordred fought with the king upon Barham Down, and
  • there the king put Sir Mordred to the worse. Alas, said Sir Launcelot,
  • this is the heaviest tidings that ever came to me. Now, fair sirs, said
  • Sir Launcelot, shew me the tomb of Sir Gawaine. And then certain people
  • of the town brought him into the castle of Dover, and shewed him the
  • tomb. Then Sir Launcelot kneeled down and wept, and prayed heartily for
  • his soul. And that night he made a dole, and all they that would come
  • had as much flesh, fish, wine and ale, and every man and woman had
  • twelve pence, come who would. Thus with his own hand dealt he this
  • money, in a mourning gown; and ever he wept, and prayed them to pray
  • for the soul of Sir Gawaine. And on the morn all the priests and clerks
  • that might be gotten in the country were there, and sang mass of
  • Requiem; and there offered first Sir Launcelot, and he offered an
  • hundred pound; and then the seven kings offered forty pound apiece; and
  • also there was a thousand knights, and each of them offered a pound;
  • and the offering dured from morn till night, and Sir Launcelot lay two
  • nights on his tomb in prayers and weeping.
  • Then on the third day Sir Launcelot called the kings, dukes, earls,
  • barons, and knights, and said thus: My fair lords, I thank you all of
  • your coming into this country with me, but we came too late, and that
  • shall repent me while I live, but against death may no man rebel. But
  • sithen it is so, said Sir Launcelot, I will myself ride and seek my
  • lady, Queen Guenever, for as I hear say she hath had great pain and
  • much disease; and I heard say that she is fled into the west. Therefore
  • ye all shall abide me here, and but if I come again within fifteen
  • days, then take your ships and your fellowship, and depart into your
  • country, for I will do as I say to you.
  • CHAPTER IX. How Sir Launcelot departed to seek the Queen Guenever, and
  • how he found her at Almesbury.
  • Then came Sir Bors de Ganis, and said: My lord Sir Launcelot, what
  • think ye for to do, now to ride in this realm? wit ye well ye shall
  • find few friends. Be as be may, said Sir Launcelot, keep you still
  • here, for I will forth on my journey, and no man nor child shall go
  • with me. So it was no boot to strive, but he departed and rode
  • westerly, and there he sought a seven or eight days; and at the last he
  • came to a nunnery, and then was Queen Guenever ware of Sir Launcelot as
  • he walked in the cloister. And when she saw him there she swooned
  • thrice, that all the ladies and gentlewomen had work enough to hold the
  • queen up. So when she might speak, she called ladies and gentlewomen to
  • her, and said: Ye marvel, fair ladies, why I make this fare. Truly, she
  • said, it is for the sight of yonder knight that yonder standeth;
  • wherefore I pray you all call him to me.
  • When Sir Launcelot was brought to her, then she said to all the ladies:
  • Through this man and me hath all this war been wrought, and the death
  • of the most noblest knights of the world; for through our love that we
  • have loved together is my most noble lord slain. Therefore, Sir
  • Launcelot, wit thou well I am set in such a plight to get my soul-heal;
  • and yet I trust through God’s grace that after my death to have a sight
  • of the blessed face of Christ, and at domesday to sit on his right
  • side, for as sinful as ever I was are saints in heaven. Therefore, Sir
  • Launcelot, I require thee and beseech thee heartily, for all the love
  • that ever was betwixt us, that thou never see me more in the visage;
  • and I command thee, on God’s behalf, that thou forsake my company, and
  • to thy kingdom thou turn again, and keep well thy realm from war and
  • wrack; for as well as I have loved thee, mine heart will not serve me
  • to see thee, for through thee and me is the flower of kings and knights
  • destroyed; therefore, Sir Launcelot, go to thy realm, and there take
  • thee a wife, and live with her with joy and bliss; and I pray thee
  • heartily, pray for me to our Lord that I may amend my misliving. Now,
  • sweet madam, said Sir Launcelot, would ye that I should now return
  • again unto my country, and there to wed a lady? Nay, madam, wit you
  • well that shall I never do, for I shall never be so false to you of
  • that I have promised; but the same destiny that ye have taken you to, I
  • will take me unto, for to please Jesu, and ever for you I cast me
  • specially to pray. If thou wilt do so, said the queen, hold thy
  • promise, but I may never believe but that thou wilt turn to the world
  • again. Well, madam, said he, ye say as pleaseth you, yet wist you me
  • never false of my promise, and God defend but I should forsake the
  • world as ye have done. For in the quest of the Sangreal I had forsaken
  • the vanities of the world had not your lord been. And if I had done so
  • at that time, with my heart, will, and thought, I had passed all the
  • knights that were in the Sangreal except Sir Galahad, my son. And
  • therefore, lady, sithen ye have taken you to perfection, I must needs
  • take me to perfection, of right. For I take record of God, in you I
  • have had mine earthly joy; and if I had found you now so disposed, I
  • had cast me to have had you into mine own realm.
  • CHAPTER X. How Sir Launcelot came to the hermitage where the Archbishop
  • of Canterbury was, and how he took the habit on him.
  • But sithen I find you thus disposed, I ensure you faithfully, I will
  • ever take me to penance, and pray while my life lasteth, if I may find
  • any hermit, either gray or white, that will receive me. Wherefore,
  • madam, I pray you kiss me and never no more. Nay, said the queen, that
  • shall I never do, but abstain you from such works: and they departed.
  • But there was never so hard an hearted man but he would have wept to
  • see the dolour that they made; for there was lamentation as they had
  • been stung with spears; and many times they swooned, and the ladies
  • bare the queen to her chamber.
  • And Sir Launcelot awoke, and went and took his horse, and rode all that
  • day and all night in a forest, weeping. And at the last he was ware of
  • an hermitage and a chapel stood betwixt two cliffs; and then he heard a
  • little bell ring to mass, and thither he rode and alighted, and tied
  • his horse to the gate, and heard mass. And he that sang mass was the
  • Bishop of Canterbury. Both the Bishop and Sir Bedivere knew Sir
  • Launcelot, and they spake together after mass. But when Sir Bedivere
  • had told his tale all whole, Sir Launcelot’s heart almost brast for
  • sorrow, and Sir Launcelot threw his arms abroad, and said: Alas, who
  • may trust this world. And then he kneeled down on his knee, and prayed
  • the Bishop to shrive him and assoil him. And then he besought the
  • Bishop that he might be his brother. Then the Bishop said: I will
  • gladly; and there he put an habit upon Sir Launcelot, and there he
  • served God day and night with prayers and fastings.
  • Thus the great host abode at Dover. And then Sir Lionel took fifteen
  • lords with him, and rode to London to seek Sir Launcelot; and there Sir
  • Lionel was slain and many of his lords. Then Sir Bors de Ganis made the
  • great host for to go home again; and Sir Bors, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir
  • Blamore, Sir Bleoberis, with more other of Sir Launcelot’s kin, took on
  • them to ride all England overthwart and endlong, to seek Sir Launcelot.
  • So Sir Bors by fortune rode so long till he came to the same chapel
  • where Sir Launcelot was; and so Sir Bors heard a little bell knell,
  • that rang to mass; and there he alighted and heard mass. And when mass
  • was done, the Bishop Sir Launcelot, and Sir Bedivere, came to Sir Bors.
  • And when Sir Bors saw Sir Launcelot in that manner clothing, then he
  • prayed the Bishop that he might be in the same suit. And so there was
  • an habit put upon him, and there he lived in prayers and fasting. And
  • within half a year, there was come Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir
  • Blamore, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Villiars, Sir Clarras, and Sir Gahalantine.
  • So all these seven noble knights there abode still. And when they saw
  • Sir Launcelot had taken him to such perfection, they had no lust to
  • depart, but took such an habit as he had.
  • Thus they endured in great penance six year; and then Sir Launcelot
  • took the habit of priesthood of the Bishop, and a twelvemonth he sang
  • mass. And there was none of these other knights but they read in books,
  • and holp for to sing mass, and rang bells, and did bodily all manner of
  • service. And so their horses went where they would, for they took no
  • regard of no worldly riches. For when they saw Sir Launcelot endure
  • such penance, in prayers, and fastings, they took no force what pain
  • they endured, for to see the noblest knight of the world take such
  • abstinence that he waxed full lean. And thus upon a night, there came a
  • vision to Sir Launcelot, and charged him, in remission of his sins, to
  • haste him unto Almesbury: And by then thou come there, thou shalt find
  • Queen Guenever dead. And therefore take thy fellows with thee, and
  • purvey them of an horse bier, and fetch thou the corpse of her, and
  • bury her by her husband, the noble King Arthur. So this avision came to
  • Sir Launcelot thrice in one night.
  • CHAPTER XI. How Sir Launcelot went with his seven fellows to Almesbury,
  • and found there Queen Guenever dead, whom they brought to Glastonbury.
  • Then Sir Launcelot rose up or day, and told the hermit. It were well
  • done, said the hermit, that ye made you ready, and that you disobey not
  • the avision. Then Sir Launcelot took his eight fellows with him, and on
  • foot they yede from Glastonbury to Almesbury, the which is little more
  • than thirty mile. And thither they came within two days, for they were
  • weak and feeble to go. And when Sir Launcelot was come to Almesbury
  • within the nunnery, Queen Guenever died but half an hour afore. And the
  • ladies told Sir Launcelot that Queen Guenever told them all or she
  • passed, that Sir Launcelot had been priest near a twelvemonth, And
  • hither he cometh as fast as he may to fetch my corpse; and beside my
  • lord, King Arthur, he shall bury me. Wherefore the queen said in
  • hearing of them all: I beseech Almighty God that I may never have power
  • to see Sir Launcelot with my worldly eyen; and thus, said all the
  • ladies, was ever her prayer these two days, till she was dead. Then Sir
  • Launcelot saw her visage, but he wept not greatly, but sighed. And so
  • he did all the observance of the service himself, both the dirige, and
  • on the morn he sang mass. And there was ordained an horse bier; and so
  • with an hundred torches ever brenning about the corpse of the queen,
  • and ever Sir Launcelot with his eight fellows went about the horse
  • bier, singing and reading many an holy orison, and frankincense upon
  • the corpse incensed. Thus Sir Launcelot and his eight fellows went on
  • foot from Almesbury unto Glastonbury.
  • And when they were come to the chapel and the hermitage, there she had
  • a dirige, with great devotion. And on the morn the hermit that sometime
  • was Bishop of Canterbury sang the mass of Requiem with great devotion.
  • And Sir Launcelot was the first that offered, and then also his eight
  • fellows. And then she was wrapped in cered cloth of Raines, from the
  • top to the toe, in thirtyfold, and after she was put in a web of lead,
  • and then in a coffin of marble. And when she was put in the earth Sir
  • Launcelot swooned, and lay long still, while the hermit came and awaked
  • him, and said: Ye be to blame, for ye displease God with such manner of
  • sorrow-making. Truly, said Sir Launcelot, I trust I do not displease
  • God, for He knoweth mine intent. For my sorrow was not, nor is not for
  • any rejoicing of sin, but my sorrow may never have end. For when I
  • remember of her beauty, and of her noblesse, that was both with her
  • king and with her, so when I saw his corpse and her corpse so lie
  • together, truly mine heart would not serve to sustain my careful body.
  • Also when I remember me how by my default, mine orgule and my pride,
  • that they were both laid full low, that were peerless that ever was
  • living of Christian people, wit you well, said Sir Launcelot, this
  • remembered, of their kindness and mine unkindness, sank so to mine
  • heart, that I might not sustain myself. So the French book maketh
  • mention.
  • CHAPTER XII. How Sir Launcelot began to sicken, and after died, whose
  • body was borne to Joyous Gard for to be buried.
  • Then Sir Launcelot never after ate but little meat, ne drank, till he
  • was dead. For then he sickened more and more, and dried, and dwined
  • away. For the Bishop nor none of his fellows might not make him to eat,
  • and little he drank, that he was waxen by a cubit shorter than he was,
  • that the people could not know him. For evermore, day and night, he
  • prayed, but sometime he slumbered a broken sleep; ever he was lying
  • grovelling on the tomb of King Arthur and Queen Guenever. And there was
  • no comfort that the Bishop, nor Sir Bors, nor none of his fellows,
  • could make him, it availed not. So within six weeks after, Sir
  • Launcelot fell sick, and lay in his bed; and then he sent for the
  • Bishop that there was hermit, and all his true fellows. Then Sir
  • Launcelot said with dreary steven: Sir Bishop, I pray you give to me
  • all my rites that longeth to a Christian man. It shall not need you,
  • said the hermit and all his fellows, it is but heaviness of your blood,
  • ye shall be well mended by the grace of God to-morn. My fair lords,
  • said Sir Launcelot, wit you well my careful body will into the earth, I
  • have warning more than now I will say; therefore give me my rites. So
  • when he was houseled and anealed, and had all that a Christian man
  • ought to have, he prayed the Bishop that his fellows might bear his
  • body to Joyous Gard. Some men say it was Alnwick, and some men say it
  • was Bamborough. Howbeit, said Sir Launcelot, me repenteth sore, but I
  • made mine avow sometime, that in Joyous Gard I would be buried. And
  • because of breaking of mine avow, I pray you all, lead me thither. Then
  • there was weeping and wringing of hands among his fellows.
  • So at a season of the night they all went to their beds, for they all
  • lay in one chamber. And so after midnight, against day, the Bishop
  • [that] then was hermit, as he lay in his bed asleep, he fell upon a
  • great laughter. And therewith all the fellowship awoke, and came to the
  • Bishop, and asked him what he ailed. Ah Jesu mercy, said the Bishop,
  • why did ye awake me? I was never in all my life so merry and so well at
  • ease. Wherefore? said Sir Bors. Truly said the Bishop, here was Sir
  • Launcelot with me with mo angels than ever I saw men in one day. And I
  • saw the angels heave up Sir Launcelot unto heaven, and the gates of
  • heaven opened against him. It is but dretching of swevens, said Sir
  • Bors, for I doubt not Sir Launcelot aileth nothing but good. It may
  • well be, said the Bishop; go ye to his bed, and then shall ye prove the
  • sooth. So when Sir Bors and his fellows came to his bed they found him
  • stark dead, and he lay as he had smiled, and the sweetest savour about
  • him that ever they felt.
  • Then was there weeping and wringing of hands, and the greatest dole
  • they made that ever made men. And on the morn the Bishop did his mass
  • of Requiem, and after, the Bishop and all the nine knights put Sir
  • Launcelot in the same horse bier that Queen Guenever was laid in
  • to-fore that she was buried. And so the Bishop and they all together
  • went with the body of Sir Launcelot daily, till they came to Joyous
  • Gard; and ever they had an hundred torches brenning about him. And so
  • within fifteen days they came to Joyous Gard. And there they laid his
  • corpse in the body of the quire, and sang and read many psalters and
  • prayers over him and about him.
  • And ever his visage was laid open and naked, that all folks might
  • behold him. For such was the custom in those days, that all men of
  • worship should so lie with open visage till that they were buried. And
  • right thus as they were at their service, there came Sir Ector de
  • Maris, that had seven years sought all England, Scotland, and Wales,
  • seeking his brother, Sir Launcelot.
  • CHAPTER XIII. How Sir Ector found Sir Launcelot his brother dead, and
  • how Constantine reigned next after Arthur; and of the end of this book.
  • And when Sir Ector heard such noise and light in the quire of Joyous
  • Gard, he alighted and put his horse from him, and came into the quire,
  • and there he saw men sing and weep. And all they knew Sir Ector, but he
  • knew not them. Then went Sir Bors unto Sir Ector, and told him how
  • there lay his brother, Sir Launcelot, dead; and then Sir Ector threw
  • his shield, sword, and helm from him. And when he beheld Sir
  • Launcelot’s visage, he fell down in a swoon. And when he waked it were
  • hard any tongue to tell the doleful complaints that he made for his
  • brother. Ah Launcelot, he said, thou were head of all Christian
  • knights, and now I dare say, said Sir Ector, thou Sir Launcelot, there
  • thou liest, that thou were never matched of earthly knight’s hand. And
  • thou were the courteoust knight that ever bare shield. And thou were
  • the truest friend to thy lover that ever bestrad horse. And thou were
  • the truest lover of a sinful man that ever loved woman. And thou were
  • the kindest man that ever struck with sword. And thou were the
  • goodliest person that ever came among press of knights. And thou was
  • the meekest man and the gentlest that ever ate in hall among ladies.
  • And thou were the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear
  • in the rest. Then there was weeping and dolour out of measure.
  • Thus they kept Sir Launcelot’s corpse aloft fifteen days, and then they
  • buried it with great devotion. And then at leisure they went all with
  • the Bishop of Canterbury to his hermitage, and there they were together
  • more than a month. Then Sir Constantine, that was Sir Cador’s son of
  • Cornwall, was chosen king of England. And he was a full noble knight,
  • and worshipfully he ruled this realm. And then this King Constantine
  • sent for the Bishop of Canterbury, for he heard say where he was. And
  • so he was restored unto his Bishopric, and left that hermitage. And Sir
  • Bedivere was there ever still hermit to his life’s end. Then Sir Bors
  • de Ganis, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Gahalantine, Sir Galihud, Sir
  • Galihodin, Sir Blamore, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Villiars le Valiant, Sir
  • Clarrus of Clermont, all these knights drew them to their countries.
  • Howbeit King Constantine would have had them with him, but they would
  • not abide in this realm. And there they all lived in their countries as
  • holy men. And some English books make mention that they went never out
  • of England after the death of Sir Launcelot, but that was but favour of
  • makers. For the French book maketh mention, and is authorised, that Sir
  • Bors, Sir Ector, Sir Blamore, and Sir Bleoberis, went into the Holy
  • Land thereas Jesu Christ was quick and dead, and anon as they had
  • stablished their lands. For the book saith, so Sir Launcelot commanded
  • them for to do, or ever he passed out of this world. And these four
  • knights did many battles upon the miscreants or Turks. And there they
  • died upon a Good Friday for God’s sake.
  • _Here is the end of the book of King Arthur, and of his noble knights
  • of the Round Table, that when they were whole together there was ever
  • an hundred and forty. And here is the end of the death of Arthur. I
  • pray you all, gentlemen and gentlewomen that readeth this book of
  • Arthur and his knights, from the beginning to the ending, pray for me
  • while I am alive, that God send me good deliverance, and when I am
  • dead, I pray you all pray for my soul. For this book was ended the
  • ninth year of the reign of King Edward the Fourth, by Sir Thomas
  • Maleore, knight, as Jesu help him for his great might, as he is the
  • servant of Jesu both day and night._
  • _Thus endeth this noble and joyous book entitled Le Morte Darthur.
  • Notwithstanding it treateth of the birth, life, and acts of the said
  • King Arthur, of his noble knights of the Round Table, their marvellous
  • enquests and adventures, the achieving of the Sangreal, and in the end
  • the dolorous death and departing out of this world of them all. Which
  • book was reduced into English by Sir Thomas Malory, knight, as afore is
  • said, and by me divided into twenty-one books, chaptered and emprinted,
  • and finished in the abbey, Westminster, the last day of July the year
  • of our Lord MCCCCLXXXV._
  • _Caxton me fieri fecit._
  • GLOSSARY
  • Abashed, abased, lowered,
  • Abate, depress, calm,
  • Abought, paid for,
  • Abraid, started,
  • Accompted, counted,
  • Accorded, agreed,
  • Accordment, agreement,
  • Acquit, repay,
  • Actually, actively,
  • Adoubted, afraid,
  • Advision, vision,
  • Afeard, afraid,
  • Afterdeal, disadvantage,
  • Againsay, retract,
  • Aknown, known,
  • Aligement, alleviation,
  • Allegeance, alleviation,
  • Allow, approve,
  • Almeries, chests,
  • Alther, gen. pl., of all,
  • Amounted, mounted,
  • Anealed, anointed,
  • Anguishly, in pain,
  • Anon, at once,
  • Apair, weaken,
  • Apparelled, fitted up,
  • Appeach, impeach,
  • Appealed, challenged, accused,
  • Appertices, displays,
  • Araged, enraged, ; confused,
  • Araised, raised,
  • Arase, obliterate,
  • Areared, reared,
  • Armyvestal, martial,
  • Array, plight, state of affairs,
  • Arrayed, situated,
  • Arson, saddle-bow,
  • Askance, casually,
  • Assoiled, absolved,
  • Assotted, infatuated,
  • Assummon, summon,
  • Astonied, amazed, stunned,
  • At, of, by,
  • At-after, after,
  • Attaint, overcome,
  • Aumbries, chests,
  • Avail (at), at an advantage,
  • Avaled, lowered,
  • Avaunt, boast,
  • Aventred, couched,
  • Avised, be advised, take thought,
  • Avision, vision,
  • Avoid, quit,
  • Avoided, got clear off,
  • Avow, vow,
  • Await of (in), in watch for,
  • Awayward, away,
  • Awke, sideways,
  • Bachelors, probationers for knighthood
  • Bain, bath,
  • Barbican, gate-tower,
  • Barget, little ship,
  • Battle, division of an army,
  • Bawdy, dirty,
  • Beams, trumpets,
  • Be-closed, enclosed,
  • Become, pp., befallen, gone to,
  • Bedashed, splashed,
  • Behests, promises,
  • Behight, promised,
  • Beholden (beholding) to, obliged to,
  • Behote, promised,
  • Benome, deprived, taken away,
  • Besants, gold coins,
  • Beseek, beseech,
  • Beseen, appointed, arrayed,
  • Beskift, shove off,
  • Bested, beset,
  • Betaken, entrusted,
  • Betaught, entrusted, recommended,
  • Betid, happened,
  • Betook, committed, entrusted,
  • Bevered, quivered,
  • Board, sb., deck,
  • Bobaunce, boasting, pride,
  • Boishe, bush, branch of a tree,
  • Boistous, rough,
  • Bole, trunk of a tree,
  • Boot, remedy,
  • Borrow out, redeem,
  • Borrows, pledges,
  • Bote, remedy,
  • Bound, ready,
  • Bourded, jested,
  • Bourder, jester,
  • Braced, embraced,
  • Brachet, little hound,
  • Braide, quick movement,
  • Brast, burst, break,
  • Breaths, breathing holes,
  • Brief, shorten,
  • Brim, fierce, furious,
  • Brised, broke,
  • Broached, pierced,
  • Broaches, spits,
  • Bur, hand-guard of a spear,
  • Burble, bubble,
  • Burbling, bubbling,
  • Burgenetts, buds, blossoms,
  • Bushment, ambush,
  • By and by, immediately,
  • Bywaryed, expended, bestowed,
  • Canel bone, collar bone,
  • Cankered, inveterate,
  • Cantel, slice, strip,
  • Careful, sorrowful, full of troubles,
  • Cast (of bread), loaves baked at the same time,
  • Cast, ref: v., propose,
  • Cedle, schedule, note,
  • Cere, wax over, embalm,; cerel,
  • Certes, certainly,
  • Chafe, heat, decompose,; chafed, heated,
  • Chaflet, platform, scaffold,
  • Champaign, open country,
  • Chariot (Fr charette), cart,
  • Cheer, countenance, entertainment,
  • Chierte, dearness,
  • Chrism, anointing oil,
  • Clatter, talk confusedly,
  • Cleight, clutched,
  • Cleped, called,
  • Clipping, embracing,
  • Cog, small boat,
  • Cognisance, badge, mark of distinction,
  • Coif, head-piece,
  • Comfort, strengthen, help,
  • Cominal, common,
  • Complished, complete,
  • Con, know, be able, ; con thanlt, be grateful,
  • Conserve, preserve,
  • Conversant, abiding in,
  • Cording, agreement,
  • Coronal, circlet,
  • Cost, side,
  • Costed, kept up with,
  • Couched, lay,
  • Courage, encourage,
  • Courtelage, courtyard,
  • Covert, sheltered,
  • Covetise, covetousness,
  • Covin, deceit,
  • Cream, oil,
  • Credence, faith,
  • Croup, crupper,
  • Curteist, most courteous,
  • Daffish, foolish,
  • Danger (in), under obligation to, in the power of,
  • Dawed, v tr., revived, intr. dawned,
  • Deadly, mortal, human,
  • Deal, part, portion,
  • Debate, quarrel, strife,
  • Debonair, courteous,
  • Deceivable, deceitful,
  • Defaded, faded,
  • Default, fault,
  • Defend, forbid,; defended,; forbidden,
  • Defoiled, trodden down, fouled, deflowered,
  • Degree (win the), rank, superiority,
  • Delibered, determined,
  • Deliverly, adroitly,
  • Departed, divided,
  • Departition, departure,
  • Dere, harm,
  • Descrive, describe,
  • Despoiled, stripped,
  • Detrenched, cut to pieces,
  • Devised, looked carefully at,
  • Devoir, duty, service,
  • Did off, doffed,
  • Dight, prepared,
  • Dindled, trembled,
  • Disadventure, misfortune,
  • Discover, reveal,
  • Disherited, disinherited,
  • Disparpled, scattered,
  • Dispenses, expenses,
  • Disperplyd, scattered,
  • Dispoiled, stripped,
  • Distained, sullied, dishonoured,
  • Disworship, shame,
  • Dole, gift of alms,
  • Dole, sorrow,
  • Domineth, dominates, rules,
  • Don, gift,
  • Doted, foolish,
  • Doubted, redoubtable,
  • Draughts, privities, secret interviews, recesses,
  • Drenched, drowned,
  • Dress, make ready,
  • Dressed up, raised,
  • Dretched, troubled in sleep,
  • Dretching, being troubled in sleep,
  • Dromounds, war vessels,
  • Dure, endure, last,; dured,; during,
  • Duresse, bondage, hardship,
  • Dwined, dwindled,
  • Eased, entertained,
  • Eft, after, again,
  • Eftures, passages,
  • Embattled, ranged for battle,
  • Embushed, concealed in the woods,
  • Eme, uncle,
  • Empoison, poison,
  • Emprised, undertook,
  • Enbraid,
  • Enchafe, heat,; enchafed, heated,
  • Enchieve, achieve,
  • Endlong, alongside of,
  • Enewed, painted,
  • Enforce, constrain,
  • Engine, device,
  • Enow, enough,
  • Enquest, enterprise,
  • Ensured, assured,
  • Entermete, intermeddle,
  • Errant, wandering,
  • Estates, ranks,
  • Even hand, at an equality,
  • Evenlong, along,
  • Everych, each, every one,
  • Faiter, vagabond,
  • Fare, sb., ado, commotion,
  • Faren, pp., treated,
  • Faute, lack,; fauted, lacked,
  • Fealty, oath of fidelity,
  • Fear, frighten,
  • Feute, trace, track,
  • Feuter, set in rest, couch,
  • Feutred, set in socket,
  • Fiaunce, affiance, promise,
  • Flang, flung,; rushed,
  • Flatling, prostrate,
  • Fleet, float,
  • Flemed, put to flight,
  • Flittered, fluttered,
  • Foiled, defeated, shamed,
  • Foined, thrust,
  • Foining, thrusting,
  • Foins, thrusts,
  • Foot-hot, hastily,
  • For-bled, spent with bleeding,
  • Force (no), no concern,
  • Fordeal, advantage,
  • Fordo, destroy,; fordid,
  • Forecast, preconcerted plot,
  • For-fared, worsted,
  • Forfend, forbid,
  • Forfoughten, weary with fighting,
  • Forhewn, hewn to pieces,
  • Forjousted, tired with jousting,
  • Forthinketh, repents,
  • Fortuned, happened,
  • Forward, vanguard,
  • Forwowmded, sorely wounded,
  • Free, noble,
  • Freshed,
  • Froward, away from,
  • Gad, wedge or spike of iron,
  • Gainest, readiest,
  • Gar, cause,
  • Gart, compelled,
  • Gentily, like a gentleman,
  • Gerfalcon, a fine hawk,
  • Germane, closely allied,
  • Gest, deed, story,
  • Gisarm, halberd, battle-axe,
  • Glaive, sword,
  • Glasting, barking,
  • Glatisant, barking, yelping,
  • Gobbets, lumps,
  • Graithed, made ready,
  • Gree, degree, superiority,
  • Greed, pp., pleased, content,
  • Grescs, steps,
  • Grimly, ugly,
  • Grovelling, on his face,
  • Guerdonless, without reward,
  • Guise, fashion,
  • Habergeon, hauberk with leggings attached,
  • Hair, a hair-shirt,
  • Hale and how, a sailor's cry,
  • Halp, helped,
  • Halsed, embraced,
  • Halsing, embracing,
  • Handfast, betrothed,
  • Handsel, earnest-money,
  • Hangers, testicles,
  • Harbingers, messengers sent to prepare lodgings,
  • Harness, armour,
  • Hart of greese, fat deer,
  • Hauberk, coat of mail,
  • Haut, high, noble,
  • Hauteyn, haughty,
  • Heavy, sad,
  • Hete, command,
  • Hide, skin,
  • Hied, hurried,
  • High (on), aloud,
  • Higher hand, the uppermost,
  • Hight, called,
  • Hilled, covered, concealed,
  • Holden, held,
  • Holp, helped,
  • Holts, woods,
  • Hough-bone, back part of kneejoint,
  • Houselled, to be given the Eucharist,
  • Hoved, hovered, waited about,
  • Hurled, dashed, staggered,; hurling,
  • Hurtle, dash,
  • Incontinent, forthwith,
  • Ind, dark blue,
  • Infellowship, join in fellowship,
  • In like, alike,
  • Intermit, interpose,
  • Japer, jester,
  • Japes, jests,
  • Jesseraunt, a short cuirass,
  • Keep, sb., care,
  • Keep, s., care, reck,
  • Kemps, champions,
  • Kind, nature,
  • Kindly, natural,
  • Knights parters, marshals,
  • Know, acknowledge,
  • Knowledging, acknowledgment, confession,
  • Lain, conceal,
  • Langering, sauntering,
  • Lapped, took in her lap,
  • Large, generous,
  • Largeness, liberality,
  • Laton, latten, brass,
  • Laund, waste plain,
  • Layne, conceal,
  • Lazar-cot, leper-house,
  • Learn, teach,
  • Lears, cheeks,
  • Leaved, leafy,
  • Lecher, fornicator,
  • Leech, physician,
  • Leman, lover,
  • Let, caused to,
  • Let, hinder,
  • Lewdest, most ignorant,
  • Licours lecherous,
  • Lief, dear,
  • Liefer, more gladly,
  • Lieve, believe,
  • Limb-meal, limb from limb,
  • List, desire, pleasure,
  • Lithe, joint,
  • Longing unto, belonging to,
  • Long on (upon), because of,
  • Loos, praise,
  • Lotless, without a share,
  • Loveday, day for. settling disputes,
  • Loving, praising,
  • Lunes, leashes, strings,
  • Lusk, lubber,
  • Lusts, inclinations,
  • Maims, wounds,
  • Makeless, matchless,
  • Makers, authors, poets,
  • Mas,ease, discomfort,
  • Mal engine, evil design,
  • Mal-fortune, ill-luck, mishap,
  • Marches, borders,
  • Mass-penny, offering at mass for the dead,
  • Matche old, machicolated, with holes for defence,
  • Maugre, sb., despite,
  • Measle, disease,
  • Medled, mingled,
  • Medley, melee, general encounter,
  • Meiny, retinue,
  • Mickle, much,
  • Minever, ermine,
  • Mischieved, hurt,
  • Mischievous, painful,
  • Miscorr fort, discomfort,
  • Miscreature, unbeliever,
  • Missay, revile,; missaid,
  • Mo, more,
  • More and less, rich and poor,
  • Motes, notes on a horn,
  • Mount~ lance, amount of, extent,
  • Much, great,
  • Naked, unarmed,
  • Namely, especially,
  • Ne, nor,
  • Near-hand, nearly,; near,
  • Needly, needs, on your own compulsion,
  • Nesh, soft, tender,
  • Nigh-hand, nearly,
  • Nill, will not,
  • Nilt, will not,
  • Nis, ne is, is not,
  • Nist, ne wist, knew not,
  • Noblesse, nobleness,
  • Nobley, nobility, splendour,
  • Noised, reported,
  • Nold, would not,
  • Noseling, on his nose,
  • Not for then, nevertheless,
  • Notoyrly, notoriously,
  • Noyous, hurtful,
  • Obeissance, obedience,
  • Or, before,
  • Orgule, haughtiness,
  • Orgulist, haughtiest,
  • Orgulite, pride, arrogance,
  • Orgulous, proud,
  • Other, or,
  • Ouches, jewels,
  • Ought, owned,
  • Outcept, except,
  • Outher, or,
  • Out-taken, except,
  • Over-evening, last night,
  • Overget, overtake,
  • Overhylled, covered,
  • Over-led, domineered over,
  • Overlong, the length of,
  • Overslip, pass,
  • Overthwart, adj., cross,
  • Overthwart, sb., mischance,
  • Overthwart and endlong, by the breadth and length,
  • Painture, painting,
  • Paitrelles, breastplate of a horse,
  • Paltocks, short coats,
  • Parage, descent,
  • Pareil, like,
  • Passing, surpassingly,
  • Paynim, pagan,
  • Pensel, pennon,
  • Perclos, partition,
  • Perdy, par Dieu,
  • Perigot, falcon,
  • Perish, destroy,
  • Peron, tombstone,
  • Pight, pitched,
  • Pike, steal away,
  • Piked, stole,
  • Pillers, plunderers,
  • Pilling, plundering,
  • Pleasaunce, pleasure,
  • Plenour, complete,
  • Plump, sb., cluster,
  • Pointling, aiming,
  • Pont, bridge,
  • Port, gate,
  • Posseded, possessed,
  • Potestate, governor,
  • Precessours, predecessors,
  • Press, throng,
  • Pretendeth, belongs to,
  • Pricker, hard rider,
  • Pricking, spurring,
  • Prime, A.M.,
  • Prise, capture,
  • Puissance, power,
  • Purfle, trimming,
  • Purfled, embroidered,
  • Purvey, provide,
  • Quarrels, arrowheads,
  • Questing, barking,
  • Quick, alive,
  • Quit, repaid,; acquitted, behaved,
  • Raced (rased), tore,
  • Rack (of bulls), herd,
  • Raines, a town in Brittany famous for its cloth,
  • Ramping, raging,
  • Range, rank, station,
  • Ransacked, searched,
  • Rashed, fell headlong,
  • Rashing, rushing,
  • Rasing, rushing,
  • Rasure,
  • Raundon, impetuosity,
  • Rear, raise,
  • Rechate, note of recall,
  • Recomforted, comforted, cheered,
  • Recounter, rencontre, encounter,
  • Recover, rescue,
  • Rede, advise, ; sb., counsel,
  • Redounded, glanced back,
  • Religion, religious order,
  • Reneye, deny,
  • Report, refer,
  • Resemblaunt; semblance,
  • Retrayed, drew back,
  • Rightwise, rightly,
  • Rivage, shore,
  • Romed, roared,
  • Roted, practised,
  • Rove, cleft,
  • Rownsepyk, a branch,
  • Sacring, consecrating,
  • Sad, serious,
  • Sadly, heartily, earnestly,
  • Salle, room,
  • Samite, silk stuff with gold or silver
  • threads,
  • Sangreal, Holy Grail,
  • Sarps, girdles,
  • Saw, proverb,
  • Scathes, harms, hurts,
  • icripture, writing,
  • Search, probe wounds,
  • Selar, canopy,
  • Semblable, like,
  • Semblant, semblance,
  • Sendal, fine cloth,
  • Sennight, week,
  • Servage, slavery,
  • Sewer, officer who set on dishes and tasted them,
  • Shaft-mon, handbreadth,
  • Shaw, thicket,
  • Sheef, thrust,
  • Sheer-Thursday, Thursday in Holy Week,
  • Shend, harm,
  • Shenship, disgrace,
  • Shent, undone, blamed,
  • Shour, attack,
  • Shrew, rascal,
  • Shrewd, knavish,
  • Sib, akin to,
  • Sideling, sideways,
  • Siege, seat,
  • Signified, likened,
  • Siker, sure,
  • Sikerness, assurance,
  • Sith, since,
  • Sithen, afterwards, since,
  • Skift, changed,
  • Slade, valley,
  • Slake, glen,
  • Soil (to go to), hunting term for taking the water,
  • Sonds, messages,
  • Sort, company,
  • Sperd, bolted,
  • Spere, ask, inquire,
  • Spered, asked,
  • Sperhawk, sparrowhawk,
  • Sprent, sprinkled,
  • Stale, station,
  • Stark, thoroughly,
  • Stead, place,
  • Stert, started, rose quickly,
  • Steven, appointment,; steven ser. appointment made,
  • Steven, voice,
  • Stigh, path,
  • Stilly, silently,
  • Stint, fixed revenue,
  • Stonied, astonished,; became confused,
  • Stour, battle,
  • Strain, race, descent,
  • Strait, narrow,
  • Straked, blew a horn,
  • Sue, pursue,
  • Sued, pursued,
  • Surcingles, saddle girths,
  • Swang, swung,
  • Sweven, dream,
  • Swough, sound of wind,
  • Talent, desire,
  • Tallages, taxes,
  • Tallies, taxes,
  • Tamed, crushed,
  • Tatches, qualities,
  • Tene, sorrow,
  • Term, period of time,
  • Thilk, that same,
  • Tho, then,
  • Thrang, pushed,
  • Thrulled, pushed,
  • Till, to,
  • To-brast, burst,
  • To-fore, before,
  • To-morn, to-morrow,
  • Took, gave,
  • To-rove, broke up,
  • To-shivered, broken to pieces,
  • Traced, advanced and retreated,
  • Trains, devices, wiles,
  • Trasing, pressing forward,
  • Travers (met at), came across,
  • Traverse, slantwise,
  • Traversed, moved sideways,
  • Tray, grief,
  • Treatise, treaty,
  • Tree, timber,
  • Trenchant, cutting, sharp,
  • Tres:, hunting term,
  • Truage, tribute,
  • Trussed, packed,
  • Ubblie, wafer, Host,
  • Umbecast, cast about,
  • Umberere, the part of the helmet which shaded the eyes,
  • Umbre, shade,
  • Unavised, thoughtlessly,
  • Uncouth, strange,
  • Underne, - A.M.,
  • Ungoodly, rudely,
  • Unhappy, unlucky,
  • Unhilled, uncovered,
  • Unr the, scarcely,
  • Unsicker, unstable,
  • Unwimpled, uncovered,
  • Unwrast, untwisted, unbound,
  • Upright, flat on the back,
  • Up-so-down, upside down,
  • Ure, usage,
  • Utas, octave of a festival,
  • Utterance, uttermost,
  • Varlet, servant,
  • Venery, hunting,
  • Ven ails, breathing holes,
  • Villain, man of low birth,
  • Visors, the perforated parts of helmets,
  • Voided, slipped away from,
  • Wagging, shaking,
  • Waited, watched,
  • Waits, watches,
  • Wallop, gallop,
  • Wanhope, despair,
  • Wap, ripple,
  • Ware, aware,
  • Warison, reward,
  • Warn, forbid, refuse,
  • Weeds, garments,
  • Weltered, rolled about,
  • Wend, thought,
  • Wer-wolf, a man turned into a wolf by magic,
  • Where, whereas,
  • Wide-where, over wide space,
  • Wield, possess, have power over,
  • Wield himself, come to himself,
  • Wight, brave, strong,
  • Wightly, swiftly,
  • Wildsome, desolate,
  • Wimpled, with the head covered,
  • Win, make way,
  • Wite, v., blame,
  • Within-forth, on the inside,
  • Without-forth, on the outside,
  • Wittiest, cleverest,
  • Wittily, cleverly,
  • Witting, knowledge,
  • Wold or nold, would or would not,
  • Wonder, adj., wondrous,
  • Wonder, adv., wondrously,
  • Wonderly, wonderfully,
  • Wood, mad,
  • Woodness, madness,
  • Wood shaw, thicket of the wood,
  • Worship, honour,
  • Worshipped, cause to be honoured,
  • Worts, roots,
  • Wot, know,
  • Wrack, destruction,
  • Wroken, wreaked,
  • Wrothe, twisted,
  • Yede, ran,
  • Yelden, yielded,
  • Yerde, stick, stem,
  • Yode, went,
  • Yolden, yielded,
  • Y-wis, certainly,
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