{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_10745/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_10745","id":"gutenberg_10745","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10745","summary":null,"tags":["Arthur, King -- Legends","Arthurian Legends","Arthurian romances -- Adaptations","Category: British Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Novels","Fantasy","Knights and knighthood -- Folklore","Lancelot (Legendary character) -- Legends","Perceval (Legendary character) -- Legends","Tristan (Legendary character) -- Legends"],"text":"Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this\n      file which includes the original illustrations.\n      See 10736-h.htm or 10736-h.zip:\n      (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/0/7/4/10745/10745-h/10745-h.htm)\n      or\n      (http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/1/0/7/4/10745/10745-h.zip)\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE CHAMPIONS OF THE ROUND TABLE\n\nWritten and Illustrated by\n\nHOWARD PYLE.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIn 1902 the distinguished American artist Howard Pyle undertook to retell\nand illustrate the legend of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round\nTable. His four-volume work has long been considered one of the outstanding\ninterpretations of the Arthur cycle.\n\n_The Story of the Champions of the Round Table_, the second of Pyle's\nvolumes, was originally published in 1905. Reissued now, identical in\nformat to the original volume, with Pyle's superb illustrations and\ndecorations, it is destined to reach new generations of readers. _The Story\nof the Champions of the Round Table_ recounts the full and moving saga of\nthree of Arthur's famous knights: Percival, Tristram, and Launcelot of the\nLake.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_\"The period in which Howard Pyle did his work frequently has been spoken\nof as that Golden Age in children's literature that was to last for the\ndecade to follow. It is difficult to do justice to his contribution to the\nshining quality of that era. The magnitude and diversity of his work eludes\ndefinition. Creative artist and born storyteller, each aspect of his\ntwofold genius enriched and interpreted the other.\"_\n\n--Elizabeth Nesbitt, in _A Critical History of Children's Literature_\n\n[Illustration: Sir Launcelot of the Lake]\n\n\n\n\n\nForeword\n\nIn a book which was written by me aforetime, and which was set forth in\nprint, I therein told much of the history of King Arthur; of how he\nmanifested his royalty in the achievement of that wonderful magic sword\nwhich he drew forth out of the anvil; of how he established his royalty; of\nhow he found a splendid sword yclept Excalibur in a miraculously wonderful\nmanner; of how he won the most beautiful lady in the world for his queen;\nand of how he established the famous Round Table of noble worthy knights,\nthe like of whose prowess the world hath never seen, and will not be likely\never to behold again.\n\nAlso I told in that book the adventures of certain worthy knights and\nlikewise how the magician Merlin was betrayed to his undoing by a sorceress\nhight Vivien.\n\nNow, if you took any joy in reading that book, I have great hope that that\nwhich follows may be every whit as pleasing to you; for I shall hereinafter\nhave to do with the adventures of certain other worthies with whom you may\nhave already become acquainted through my book and otherwise; and likewise\nof the adventures of certain other worthies, of whom you have not yet been\ntold by me.\n\nMore especially, I believe, you will find entertainment in what I shall\nhave to tell you of the adventures of that great knight who was altogether\nthe most noble of spirit, and the most beautiful, and the bravest of heart,\nof any knight who ever lived--excepting only his own son, Galahad, who was\nthe crowning glory of his house and of his name and of the reign of King\nArthur.\n\nHowever, if Sir Launcelot of the Lake failed now and then in his behavior,\nwho is there in the world shall say, \"I never fell into error\"? And if he\nmore than once offended, who is there shall have hardihood to say, \"I never\ncommitted offence\"?\n\nYea, that which maketh Launcelot so singularly dear to all the world, is\nthat he was not different from other men, but like other men, both in his\nvirtues and his shortcomings; only that he was more strong and more brave\nand more untiring than those of us who are his brethren, both in our\nendeavors and in our failures.\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\nThe Story of Launcelot\n\nChapter First\n\nHow Sir Launcelot Came Forth From the Enchanted Castle of the\nLake and Entered Into the World Again, and How King Arthur\nMade Him Knight\n\nChapter Second\n\nHow Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel Rode Forth Errant Together\nand How Sir Lionel Met Sir Turquine to His Great Dole. Also\nHow Sir Ector Grieved for the Departure of His Brother Launcelot\nand So, Following Him, Fell into a Very Sorry Adventure\n\nChapter Third\n\nHow Sir Launcelot was Found in a Sleep by Queen Morgana\nle Fay and Three Other Queens who were with Her, and How He\nwas Taken to a Castle of Queen Morgana's and of What Befell Him\nThere\n\nChapter Fourth\n\nHow Sir Launcelot Sought Sir Lionel and How a Young Damsel\nBrought Him to the Greatest Battle that Ever He Had in All His\nLife\n\nChapter Fifth\n\nHow Sir Launcelot Went Upon an Adventure with the Damsel\nCroisette as Companion, and How He Overcame Sir Peris of the\nForest Sauvage\n\nChapter Sixth\n\nHow Sir Launcelot Took Part in the Tournament Between King\nBagdemagus and the King of North Wales, and How He Won that\nBattle for King Bagdemagus\n\nChapter Seventh\n\nHow Sir Launcelot Fell Into the Greatest Peril that Ever He Encountered\nin all His Life. Also How He Freed a Misfortunate Castle\nand Town From the Giants Who Held Them, and How He Released\nthe Lord Thereof From a Dungeon\n\nChapter Eighth\n\nHow Sir Launcelot Rescued Sir Kay From a Perilous Pass Also\nHow He Changed Armor with Sir Kay and what Befell\n\n\nThe Book of Sir Tristram\n\nPART I\n\nTHE STORY OF SIR TRISTRAM AND THE LADY\nBELLE ISOULT\n\nChapter First\n\nHow the new Queen of Lyonesse sought Tristram's life; how he went\nto France, and how he Returned again to Lyonesse and was Received\nWith Love at that Place\n\nChapter Second\n\nHow Sir Tristram was made Knight by the King of Cornwall,\nand how he Fought a Battle with a Famous Champion\n\nChapter Third\n\nHow Sir Tristram went to Ireland to be healed of his Wound by\nthe King's Daughter of Ireland, and of how he came to love the Lady\nBelle Isoult. Also concerning Sir Palamydes and the Lady Belle\nIsoult\n\nChapter Fourth\n\nHow Sir Tristram encountered Sir Palamydes at the Tournament\nand of what befell. Also how Sir Tristram was Forced to leave the\nKingdom of Ireland\n\nChapter Fifth\n\nHow Sir Tristram was sent by Command of King Mark to go to\nIreland to Bring the Lady the Belle Isoult from Ireland to Cornwall\nand how it fared with him\n\nChapter Sixth\n\nHow Sir Tristram had to do in Battle with Three Knights of the\nRound Table. Also how he had Speech with King Arthur\n\nChapter Seventh\n\nHow Sir Tristram had Speech with King Angus of Ireland; how\nhe Undertook to Champion the Cause of King Angus and of what Happened\nThereafter\n\nPART II\n\nTHE STORY OF SIR TRISTRAM AND SIR LAMORACK\n\nChapter First\n\nHow Sir Lamorack of Gales came to Tintagel and how he and Sir\nTristram Sware Friendship Together in the Forest\n\nChapter Second\n\nHow Sir Tristram Started to go to Camelot, and how he Stayed by\nthe Way to do Battle with Sir Nabon le Noir\n\nChapter Third\n\nHow Sir Tristram did justice in the island, and Thereby Released\nSir Lamorack from Captivity. Also how Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorack\nRenewed their Great Tenderness Toward one another\n\nPART III\n\nTHE MADNESS OF SIR TRISTRAM\n\nChapter First\n\nHow Sir Tristram was Discovered with the Lady Belle Isoult;\nhow he Assaulted King Mark, and how he Escaped from Tintagel into\nthe Forest\n\nChapter Second\n\nHow Sir Tristram got him a Sword from Sir Kay, and how he Slew\nTherewith a Huge Knight in the Forest and Rescued a Lady in very\nGreat Distress. Also how Sir Launcelot found Sir Tristram in the\nForest and Brought him Thence to Tintagel again\n\nChapter Third\n\nHow Sir Tristram was Discovered at Tintagel and of what Befell\nThereby\n\nChapter Fourth\n\nHow Sir Tristram and the Lady Belle Isoult Returned to Cornwall,\nand how they Ended their Days Together\n\n\nThe Book of Sir Percival\n\nChapter First\n\nHow Percival Departed into the World and how he Found a Fair\nDamsel in a Pavilion; likewise how he came before Queen Guinevere\nand how he Undertook his First Adventure\n\nChapter Second\n\nHow Sir Percival was made Knight by King Arthur; how he rode\nForth with Sir Lamorack and how he Left Sir Lamorack in quest\nof Adventure upon his own Account; likewise how a Great Knight\nTaught him craft in Arms\n\nChapter Third\n\nHow Sir Percival met two Strange People in the Forest, and how\nhe Succored a Knight who was in very Great Sorrow and Dole\n\nChapter Fourth\n\nHow Sir Percival Undertook the Adventure of the Castle of Beaurepaire\nand how he Fared Therein after Several Excellent Adventures\n\nChapter Fifth\n\nHow Sir Percival Repaid Sir Kay the Buffet he one time gave\nYelande the Dumb Maiden, and how, Thereafter, he went Forth to\nSeek his own Lady of Love\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\nHead Piece--Table of Contents\nTail Piece--Table of Contents\nHead Piece--List of Illustrations\nTail Piece--List of Illustrations\n\nThe Lady Nymue beareth away Launcelot into the Lake\nHead Piece--Prologue\nTail Piece--Prologue\nSir Launcelot greets Queen Guinevere\nHead Piece--The Story of Launcelot\nSir Lionel of Britain\nQueen Morgana appears unto Sir Launcelot\nSir Launcelot doeth battle with Sir Turquine\nSir Launcelot sits with Sir Hilaire and Croisette\nSir Launcelot and Elouise the Fair\nSir Launcelot climbs to catch the lady's falcon\nSir Launcelot takes the armor of Sir Kay\nTail Piece--The Story of Launcelot\n\nSir Tristram of Lyonesse\nHead Piece--Prologue\nTail Piece--Prologue\nTristram succors the Lady Moeya\nHead Piece--The Story of Sir Tristram and the Lady Belle Isoult\nKing Mark of Cornwall\nThe Lady Belle Isoult\nThe Queen of Ireland seeks to slay Sir Tristram\nSir Tristram harpeth before King Mark\nSir Tristram sits with Sir Launcelot\nTail Piece\nBelle Isoult and Sir Tristram drink the love draught\nTail Piece--The Story of Sir Tristram and the Lady Belle Isoult\nSir Lamorack of Gales\nHead Piece--The Story of Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorack\nSir Tristram cometh to ye castle of Sir Nabon\nSir Lamorack herds the swine of Sir Nabon\nTail Piece--The Story of Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorack\nSir Tristram assaults King Mark\nHead Piece--The Madness of Sir Tristram\nSir Kay and the Forest Madman\nSir Tristram leaps into ye Sea\nKing Mark broods mischief\nTail Piece--The Madness of Sir Tristram\n\nSir Percival of Gales\nHead Piece--Prologue\nThe Lady Yvette the Fair\nSir Percival and Sir Lamorack ride together\nSir Percival overcometh ye Enchantress Vivien\nThe Demoiselle Blanchefleur\nSir Kay interrupts ye meditations of Sir Percival\nTail Piece--The Book of Sir Percival\n\n[Illustration: The Lady Nymue beareth away Launcelot into the Lake]\n\n\n\n\nPrologue.\n\nIt hath already been set forth in print in a volume written by me\nconcerning the adventures of King Arthur when he first became king, how\nthere were certain lesser kings who favored him and were friendly allies\nwith him, and how there were certain others of the same sort who were his\nenemies.\n\nAmong those who were his friends was King Ban of Benwick, who was an\nexceedingly noble lord of high estate and great honor, and who was of a\nlineage so exalted that it is not likely that there was anyone in the world\nwho was of a higher strain.\n\n[Sidenote: Of King Ban and his misfortunes] Now, upon a certain time, King\nBan of Benwick fell into great trouble; for there came against him a very\npowerful enemy, to wit, King Claudas of Scotland. King Claudas brought unto\nBenwick a huge army of knights and lords, and these sat down before the\nCastle of Trible with intent to take that strong fortress and destroy it.\n\nThis noble Castle of Trible was the chiefest and the strongest place of\ndefence in all King Ban's dominions, wherefore he had intrenched himself\nthere with all of his knights and with his Queen, hight Helen, and his\nyoungest son, hight Launcelot.\n\nNow this child, Launcelot, was dearer to Queen Helen than all the world\nbesides, for he was not only large of limb but so extraordinarily beautiful\nof face that I do not believe an angel from Paradise could have been more\nbeautiful than he. He had been born with a singular birth-mark upon his\nshoulder, which birth-mark had the appearance as of a golden star enstamped\nupon the skin; wherefore, because of this, the Queen would say: \"Launcelot,\nby reason of that star upon thy shoulder I believe that thou shalt be the\nstar of our house and that thou shalt shine with such remarkable glory that\nall the world shall behold thy lustre and shall marvel thereat for all time\nto come.\" So the Queen took extraordinary delight in Launcelot and loved\nhim to the very core of her heart--albeit she knew not, at the time she\nspake, how that prophecy of hers concerning the star was to fall so\nperfectly true.\n\nNow, though King Ban thought himself very well defended at his Castle of\nTrible, yet King Claudas brought so terribly big an army against that place\nthat it covered the entire plain. A great many battles were fought under\nthe walls of the castle, but ever King Claudas waxed greater and stronger,\nand King Ban's party grew weaker and more fearful.\n\n[Sidenote: King Ban bethinks him of King Arthur] So by and by things came\nto such a pass that King Ban bethought him of King Arthur, and he said to\nhimself: \"I will go to my lord the King and beseech help and aid from him,\nfor he will certainly give it me. Nor will I trust any messenger in this\naffair other than myself; for I myself will go to King Arthur and will\nspeak to him with my own lips.\"\n\nHaving thus bethought him, he sent for Queen Helen to come into his privy\ncloset and he said to her: \"My dear love, nothing remaineth for me but to\ngo unto the court of King Arthur and beseech him to lend his powerful aid\nin this extremity of our misfortunes; nor will I trust any messenger in\nthis affair but myself. Now, this castle is no place for thee, when I am\naway, therefore, when I go upon this business, I will take thee and\nLauncelot with me, and I will leave you both in safety at King Arthur's\ncourt with our other son, Sir Ector, until this war be ended and done.\" And\nto these Queen Helen lent her assent.\n\nSo King Ban summoned to him the seneschal of the castle, who was named Sir\nMalydor le Brun, and said to him: \"Messire, I go hence to-night by a secret\npass, with intent to betake me unto King Arthur, and to beseech his aid in\nthis extremity. Moreover, I shall take with me my lady and the young child\nLauncelot, to place them within the care of King Arthur during these\ndolorous wars. But besides these, I will take no other one with me but only\nmy favorite esquire, Foliot. Now I charge thee, sir, to hold this castle in\nmy behalf with all thy might and main, and yield it not to our enemies upon\nany extremity; for I believe I shall in a little while return with\nsufficient aid from King Arthur to compass the relief of this place.\"\n\n[Sidenote: King Ban with Queen Helen and Launcelot escape from Trible] So\nwhen night had fallen very dark and still, King Ban, and Queen Helen, and\nthe young child Launcelot, and the esquire Foliot left the town privily by\nmeans of a postern gate. Thence they went by a secret path, known only to a\nvery few, that led down a steep declivity of rocks, with walls of rock upon\neither side that were very high indeed, and so they came out in safety\nbeyond the army of King Claudas and into the forest of the valley below.\nAnd the forest lay very still and solemn and dark in the silence of the\nnighttime.\n\nHaving thus come out in safety into the forest, that small party journeyed\non with all celerity that they were able to achieve until, some little time\nbefore dawn, they came to where was a lake of water in an open meadow of\nthe forest. Here they rested for a little while, for Queen Helen had fallen\nvery weary with the rough and hasty journey which they had traveled.\n\n[Sidenote: Foliot seeth a light] Now whilst they sat there resting, Foliot\nspake of a sudden, saying unto King Ban: \"Lord, what is that light that\nmaketh the sky so bright yonder-ways?\" Then King Ban looked a little and\npresently said: \"Methinks it must be the dawn that is breaking.\" \"Lord,\"\nquoth Foliot, \"that cannot very well be; for that light in the sky lieth in\nthe south, whence we have come, and not in the east, where the sun should\narise.\"\n\nThen King Ban's heart misgave him, and his soul was shaken with a great\ntrouble. \"Foliot,\" he said, \"I believe that you speak sooth and that that\nlight bodes very ill for us all.\" Then he said: \"Stay here for a little and\nI will go and discover what that light may be.\" Therewith he mounted his\nhorse and rode away in the darkness.\n\n[Sidenote: King Ban beholdeth the burning of Trible] Now there was a very\nhigh hill near-by where they were, and upon the top of the hill was an open\nplatform of rock whence a man could see a great way off in every direction.\nSo King Ban went to this place, and, when he had come there, he cast his\neyes in the direction of the light and he straightway beheld with a manner\nof terror that the light came from Trible; and then, with that terror still\ngrowing greater at his heart, he beheld that the town and the castle were\nall in one great flame of fire.\n\nWhen King Ban saw this he sat for a while upon his horse like one turned\ninto a stone. Then, after a while, he cried out in a great voice: \"Woe!\nWoe! Woe is me!\" And then he cried out still in a very loud voice, \"Certes,\nGod hath deserted me entirely.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The death of King Ban] Therewith a great passion of grief took\nhold upon him and shook him like to a leaf, and immediately after that he\nfelt that something brake within him with a very sharp and bitter pain, and\nhe wist that it was his heart that had broken. So being all alone there\nupon the hilltop, and in the perfect stillness of the night, he cried out,\n\"My heart! My heart!\" And therewith, the shadows of death coming upon him,\nhe could not sit any longer upon his horse, but fell down upon the ground.\nAnd he knew very well that death was nigh him, so, having no cross to pray\nupon, he took two blades of grass and twisted them into that holy sign, and\nhe kissed it and prayed unto it that God would forgive him his sins. So he\ndied all alone upon that hilltop.\n\nMeanwhile, Queen Helen and Foliot sat together waiting for him to return\nand presently they heard the sound of his horse's hoofs coming down that\nrocky path. Then Queen Helen said: \"Foliot, methinks my lord cometh.\" So in\na little came the horse with the empty saddle. When Foliot beheld that he\nsaid: \"Lady, here meseems is great trouble come to us, for methinks\nsomething hath befallen my lord, and that he is in sore travail, for here\nis his horse without him.\"\n\nThen it seemed to Queen Helen as though the spirit of life suddenly went\naway from her, for she foresaw what had befallen. So she arose like one in\na dream, and, speaking very quietly, she said: \"Foliot, take me whither my\nlord went awhile since!\" To this Foliot said: \"Lady, wait until the\nmorning, which is near at hand, for it is too dark for you to go\nthitherward at this present.\" Whereunto the Lady Helen replied: \"Foliot, I\ncannot wait, for if I stay here and wait I believe I shall go mad.\" Upon\nthis, Foliot did not try to persuade her any more but made ready to take\nher whither she would go.\n\nNow the young child Launcelot was then asleep upon the Queen's knees,\nwherefore she took her cloak and wrapped the child in it and laid him very\ngently upon the ground, so that he did not wake. Then she mounted upon her\npalfrey and Foliot led the palfrey up the hill whither King Ban had gone a\nshort time since.\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady Helen findeth the King] When they came to that place\nof open rocks above told of, they found King Ban lying very quiet and still\nupon the ground and with a countenance of great peace. For I believe of a\nsurety that God had forgiven him all his sins, and he would now suffer no\nmore because of the cares and the troubles of this life. Thus Queen Helen\nfound him, and finding him she made no moan or outcry of any kind, only she\nlooked for a long while into his dead face, which she could see very\nplainly now, because that the dawn had already broken. And by and by she\nsaid: \"Dear Lord, thou art at this time in a happier case than I.\" And by\nand by she said to Foliot: \"Go and bring his horse to this place, that we\nmay bear him hence.\" \"Lady,\" said Foliot, \"it is not good for you to be\nleft here alone.\" \"Foliot,\" said the Queen, \"thou dost not know how much\nalone I am; thy leaving me here cannot make me more alone.\" Therewith she\nfell to weeping with great passion.\n\nThen Foliot wept also in great measure and, still weeping like rain, he\nwent away and left her. When he came again with King Ban's horse the sun\nhad risen and all the birds were singing with great jubilation and\neverything was so blithe and gay that no one could have believed that care\nand trouble could dwell in a world that was so beautiful.\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady Helen bringeth her dead down from the Mountain] So\nQueen Helen and Foliot lifted the dead king to his horse and then the Queen\nsaid: \"Come thou, Foliot, at thine own gait, and I will go ahead and seek\nmy child, for I have yet Launcelot to be my joy. Haply he will be needing\nme at this moment.\" So the Queen made haste down the steep hill ahead of\nFoliot and by and by she came to the margin of that little lake where they\nhad rested awhile since.\n\nBy now the sun had risen very strong and warm so that all the lake, and the\nmeadows circumadjacent, and the forest that stood around about that meadow\nwere illumined with the glory of his effulgence.\n\nNow as Queen Helen entered that meadow she beheld that a very wonderful\nlady was there, and this lady bare the child Launcelot in her arms. And the\nlady sang to Launcelot, and the young child looked up into her face and\nlaughed and set his hand against her cheek. All this Queen Helen beheld;\nand she likewise beheld that the lady was of a very extraordinary\nappearance, being clad altogether in green that glistered and shone with a\nwonderful brightness. And she beheld that around the neck of the lady was a\nnecklace of gold, inset with opal stones and emeralds; and she perceived\nthat the lady's face was like ivory--very white and clear--and that her\neyes, which were very bright, shone like jewels set into ivory. And she saw\nthat the lady was very wonderfully beautiful, so that the beholder, looking\nupon her, felt a manner of fear--for that lady was Fay.\n\n(And that lady was the Lady of the Lake, spoken of aforetime in the Book of\nKing Arthur, wherein it is told how she aided King Arthur to obtain that\nwonderful, famous sword yclept Excalibur, and how she aided Sir Pellias,\nthe Gentle Knight, in the time of his extremity, and took him into the lake\nwith her. Also divers other things concerning her are told of therein.)\n\nThen the Queen came near to where the lady was, and she said to her,\n\n\"Lady, I pray you give me my child again!\" Upon this the Lady of the Lake\nsmiled very strangely and said: \"Thou shalt have thy child again, lady, but\nnot now; after a little thou shalt have him again.\" Then Queen Helen cried\nout with great agony of passion: \"Lady, would you take my child from me?\nGive him to me again, for he is all I have left in the world. Lo, I have\nlost house and lands and husband, and all the other joys that life has me\nto give, wherefore, I beseech you, take not my child from me.\" To this the\nLady of the Lake said: \"Thou must endure thy sorrow a while longer; for it\nis so ordained that I must take thy child; for I take him only that I may\ngive him to thee again, reared in such a wise that he shall make the glory\nof thy house to be the glory of the world. For he shall become the greatest\nknight in the world, and from his loins shall spring a greater still than\nhe, so that the glory of the House of King Ban shall be spoken of as long\nas mankind shall last.\" But Queen Helen cried out all the more in a great\ndespair: \"What care I for all this? I care only that I shall have my little\nchild again! Give him to me!\"\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady of the Lake taketh Launcelot into the Lake] Therewith\nshe would have laid hold of the garments of the Lady of the Lake in\nsupplication, but the Lady of the Lake drew herself away from Queen Helen's\nhand and said: \"Touch me not, for I am not mortal, but Fay.\" And thereupon\nshe and Launcelot vanished from before Queen Helen's eyes as the breath\nvanishes from the face of a mirror.\n\nFor when you breathe upon a mirror the breath will obscure that which lieth\nbehind; but presently the breath will disappear and vanish, and then you\nshall behold all things entirely clear and bright to the sight again. So\nthe Lady of the Lake vanished away, and everything behind her where she had\nstood was clear and bright, and she was gone.\n\nThen Queen Helen fell down in a swoon, and lay beside the lake of the\nmeadow like one that is dead; and when Foliot came he found her so and wist\nnot what to do for her. There was his lord who was dead and his lady who\nwas so like to death that he knew not whether she was dead or no. So he\nknew not what to do but sat down and made great lamentation for a long\nwhile.\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady Helen taketh to a Nunnery] What time he sat thus there\ncame that way three nuns who dwelt in an abbey of nuns which was not a\ngreat distance away from that place. These made great pity over that\nsorrowful sight, and they took away from there the dead King and the woeful\nQueen, and the King they buried in holy ground, and the Queen they let live\nwith them and she was thereafter known as the \"Sister of Sorrows.\"\n\n[Sidenote: How Launcelot dwelt in the lake] Now Launcelot dwelt for nigh\nseventeen years with the Lady Nymue of the Lake in that wonderful,\nbeautiful valley covered over with the appearance of such a magical lake as\nhath been aforetime described in the Book of King Arthur.\n\nAnd that land of the lake was of this sort that shall here be described:--\n\nUnto anyone who could enter into the magic water of that lake (and there\nwere very few of those who were mortal who were allowed to come to those\nmeadows of Faery that were there concealed beneath those enchanted waters)\nhe would behold before him a wide and radiant field of extraordinary\nbeauty. And he would behold that that field was covered all over with such\na multitude of exquisite and beautiful flowers that the heart of the\nbeholder would be elated with pure joy to find himself in the midst of that\nwaving sea of multitudinous and fragrant blossoms. And he would behold many\nfair and shady groves of trees that here and there grew up from that\nvalley, each glade overshadowing a fountain of water as clear as crystal.\nAnd he would perhaps behold, at such pleasant places beneath the shade of\nthose trees, some party of the fair and gentle folk of that country; and he\nwould see them playing in sport, or he would hear them chanting to the\nmusic of shining golden harps. And he would behold in the midst of that\nbeautiful plain a wonderful castle with towers and roofs uplifted high into\nthe sky, and all shining in the peculiar radiance of that land, like to\ncastles and battlements of pure gold.\n\nSuch was the land unto which Launcelot was brought, and from what I have\ntold you you may see what a wonderful, beautiful place it was.\n\nAnd the mystery of that place entered into the soul of Launcelot, so that\nthereafter, when he came out thence, he was never like other folk, but\nalways appeared to be in a manner remote and distant from other of his\nfellow-mortals with whom he dwelt.\n\nFor though he smiled a great deal, it was not often that he laughed; and if\nhe did laugh, it was never in scorn, but always in loving-kindness.\n\n      *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt was here in this land that Sir Pellias had now dwelt for several years,\nwith great peace and content. (For it hath been told in the Book of King\nArthur how, when he was upon the edge of death, the Lady Nymue of the Lake\nbrought him back to life again, and how, after that time, he was half fay\nand half mortal.)\n\nAnd the reason why Launcelot was brought to that place was that Sir Pellias\nmight teach him and train him in all the arts of chivalry. For no one in\nall the world was more skilful in arms than Sir Pellias, and no one could\nso well teach Launcelot the duties of chivalry as he.\n\nSo Sir Pellias taught Launcelot all that was best of knighthood, both as to\nconduct of manner, and as to the worthiness and skill at arms, wherefore it\nwas that when Launcelot was completely taught, there was no knight in all\nthe world who was his peer in strength of arms or in courtesy of behavior,\nuntil his own son, Sir Galahad, appeared in the courts of chivalry as shall\nby and by be told of.\n\nSo when Launcelot came forth into the world again he became the greatest\nknight in all the history of chivalry, wherefore that prophecy of his\nmother was fulfilled as to his being like to a bright star of exceeding\nlustre.\n\nAccordingly, I have herein told you with great particularity all these\ncircumstances of his early history so that you may know exactly how it was\nthat he was taken away into the lake, and why it was that he was afterward\nknown as Sir Launcelot, surnamed of the Lake.\n\nAs to how he came into the world to achieve that greatness unto which he\nhad been preordained, and as to how King Arthur made him knight, and as to\nmany very excellent adventures that befell him, you shall immediately read\nin what followeth.\n\n\n\n\nPART I\n\nThe Story of Launcelot\n\n\n_Here beginneth the story of Sir Launcelot, surnamed of the Lake, who was\nheld by all men to be the most excellent, noble, perfect knight-champion\nwho was ever seen in the world from the very beginning of chivalry unto the\ntime when his son, Sir Galahad, appeared like a bright star of\nextraordinary splendor shining in the sky of chivalry.\n\nIn this Book it shall be told how he was taken into a magic lake, how he\ncame out thence to be made knight by King Arthur, and of how he undertook\nseveral of those adventures that made him at once the wonder and the\nadmiration of all men, and the chiefest glory of the Round Table of\nArthur-Pendragon._\n\n[Illustration: Sir Launcelot greets Queen Guinevere]\n\n\n\n\nChapter First\n\n\n_How Sir Launcelot Came Forth From the Enchanted Castle of the Lake and\nEntered Into the World Again, and How King Arthur Made Him Knight._\n\n[Sidenote: Of the springtime of long ago] I know not any time of the year\nthat is more full of joyfulness than the early summer season; for that time\nthe sun is wonderfully lusty and strong, yet not so very hot; that time the\ntrees and shrubs are very full of life and very abundant of shade and yet\nhave not grown dry with the heats and droughts of later days; that time the\ngrass is young and lush and green, so that when you walk athwart the\nmeadow-lands it is as though you walked through a fair billowy lake of\nmagical verdure, sprinkled over with a great multitude of little flowers;\nthat time the roses are everywhere a-bloom, both the white rose and the\nred, and the eglantine is abundant; that time the nests are brimful of\nwell-fledged nestlings, and the little hearts of the small parent fowls\nare so exalted with gladness that they sing with all their mights and\nmains, so that the early daytime is filled full of the sweet jargon and the\njubilant medley of their voices. Yea; that is a goodly season of the year,\nfor though, haply, the spirit may not be so hilarious as in the young and\ngolden springtime, yet doth the soul take to itself so great a content in\nthe fulness of the beauty of the world, that the heart is elated with a\ngreat and abundant joy that it is not apt to feel at another season.\n\n[Sidenote: King Arthur and two knights ride a-hunting] Now it chanced upon\nthe day before Saint John's day in the fulness of a summer-time such as\nthis, that King Arthur looked forth from his chamber very early in the\nmorning and beheld how exceedingly fair and very lusty was the world\nout-of-doors--all in the freshness of the young daylight. For the sun had\nnot yet risen, though he was about to rise, and the sky was like to pure\ngold for brightness; all the grass and leaves and flowers were drenched\nwith sweet and fragrant dew, and the birds were singing so vehemently that\nthe heart of any man could not but rejoice in the fulness of life that lay\nall around about him.\n\nThere were two knights with King Arthur at that time, one was Sir Ewain,\nthe son of Morgana le Fay (and he was King Arthur's nephew), and the other\nwas Sir Ector de Maris, the son of King Ban of Benwick and of Queen\nHelen--this latter a very noble, youthful knight, and the youngest of all\nthe Knights of the Round Table who were at that time elected. These stood\nby King Arthur and looked forth out of the window with him and they also\ntook joy with him in the sweetness of the summer season. Unto them, after a\nwhile, King Arthur spake, saying: \"Messires, meseems this is too fair a day\nto stay within doors. For, certes, it is a shame that I who am a king\nshould be prisoner within mine own castle, whilst any ploughman may be free\nof the wold and the green woods and the bright sun and the blue sky and the\nwind that blows over hill and dale. Now, I too would fain go forth out of\ndoors and enjoy these things; wherefore I ordain that we shall go\na-hunting this day and that ye and I shall start before any others of the\nlords and the ladies that dwell herein are awake. So let us take our horses\nand our hounds and let us take certain foresters and huntsmen, and let us\ngo forth a-hunting into the green forest; for this day shall be holiday for\nme and for you and we shall leave care behind us, and for a while we shall\ndisport ourselves in pleasant places.\"\n\nSo they all did as King Arthur bade; they made them each man ready with his\nown hands, and they bade the huntsmen and the foresters to attend thereupon\nas the King had ordained. Then they rode forth from the castle and out into\nthe wide world that lay beyond, and it was yet so early in the morning that\nnone of the castle folk were astir to know of their departure.\n\nAll that day they hunted in the forest with much joy and with great sport,\nnor did they turn their faces toward home again until the day was so far\nspent that the sun had sunk behind the tops of the tall leafy trees. Then,\nat that time, King Arthur gave command that they should bend their ways\ntoward Camelot once more.\n\n[Sidenote: King Arthur and his companions find a strange damsel and a\ndwarf] Now this time, being the Eve of Saint John, fairies and those folk\nwho are fay come forth, as is very well known, into the world from which\nthey dwell apart at other times. So when King Arthur and those two knights\nand their several foresters and huntsmen came to a certain outlying part of\nthe forest, they were suddenly aware of a damsel and a dwarf waiting where\nthe road upon which they were travelling crossed another road, and they\nperceived, from her very remarkable appearance, that the damsel was very\nlikely Fay. For both she and her dwarf sat each upon a milk-white horse,\nvery strangely still, close to where was a shrine by a hedge of hawthorne;\nand the damsel was so wonderfully fair of face that it was a marvel to\nbehold her. Moreover, she was clad all in white samite from top to toe and\nher garments were embroidered with silver; and the trappings and garniture\nof her horse were of white samite studded with bright silver bosses,\nwherefore, because of this silver, she glistered with a sudden lustre\nwhensoever she moved a little. When King Arthur and the two knights who\nwere with him drew nigh this damsel, much marvelling at her appearance, she\nhailed him in a voice that was both high and clear, crying: \"Welcome, King\nArthur! Welcome, King Arthur! Welcome, King Arthur!\" saying three words\nthree times; and \"Welcome, Sir Ewain!\" \"Welcome, Sir Ector de Maris!\"\naddressing each of those lords by his name.\n\n\"Damsel,\" quoth King Arthur, \"it is very singular that you should know who\nwe are and that we should not know you. Now, will you not tell us your name\nand whence you come and whither you go? For of a surety I believe you are\nFay.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said the damsel, \"it matters not who I am, saving that I am of the\ncourt of a wonderful lady who is your very good friend. She hath sent me\nhere to meet you and to beseech you to come with me whither I shall lead\nyou, and I shall lead you unto her.\"\n\n\"Damsel,\" said King Arthur, \"I shall be right glad to go with you as you\ndesire me to do. So, if you will lead me to your lady, I and my knights\nwill gladly follow you thitherway to pay our court unto her.\"\n\n[Sidenote: King Arthur and his knights follow the damsel] Upon this the\ndamsel waved her hand, and drawing her bridle-rein she led the way,\naccompanied by the dwarf, and King Arthur and the two knights followed her,\nand all their party of foresters and huntsmen and hounds and beagles\nfollowed them.\n\nBy this time the sun had set and the moon had risen very fair and round and\nas yellow as gold, making a great light above the silent tree-tops.\nEverything now was embalmed in the twilight, and all the world was\nenshrouded in the mystery of the midsummer eve. Yet though the sun had gone\nthe light was wonderfully bright, wherefore all that the eye could see\nstood sharp-cut and very clear to the vision.\n\nSo the damsel and the dwarf led the way for somewhat of a distance, though\nnot for so very far, until they came of a sudden to where was an open\nmeadow in the forest, hedged all around with the trees of the woodland. And\nhere the King and his knights were aware of a great bustle of many people,\nsome working very busily in setting up several pavilions of white samite,\nand others preparing a table as for a feast, and others upon this business\nand others upon that; and there were various sumpter-mules and pack-horses\nand palfreys all about, as though belonging to a party of considerable\nestate.\n\nThen King Arthur and those who were with him beheld that, at some distance\naway upon the other side of the meadow, there were three people sitting\nunder a crab-apple tree upon a couch especially prepared for them, and they\nwere aware that these people were the chief of all that company.\n\n[Sidenote: King Arthur and his companions are brought to speak with strange\nfolk] The first party of the three was a knight of very haughty and noble\nappearance, clad all in armor as white as silver; and his jupon was white\nembroidered with silver, and the scabbard of the sword and the sword-belt\nwere white, and his shield hung in the crab-tree above him and that, too,\nwas all white as of silver. This knight still wore his helmet, so that his\ncountenance was not to be seen. The second party of the three was a lady\nclad all in white raiment. Her face was covered by her wimple so that her\ncountenance also was not to be seen very clearly, but her garments were of\nwonderful sort, being of white sarcenet embroidered over with silver in the\npattern of lily flowers. Also she wore around her breast and throat a chain\nof shining silver studded with bright and sparkling gems of divers sorts.\nThe third party of the three was a youth of eighteen years, so beautiful of\nface that it seemed to King Arthur that he had never beheld so noble a\nbeing. For his countenance was white and shining, and his hair was as soft\nas silk and as black as it was possible to be, and curled down upon his\nshoulders; and his eyes were large and bright and extraordinarily black,\nand his eyebrows arched so smoothly that if they had been painted they\ncould not have been marked upon his forehead more evenly than they were;\nand his lips, which pouted a little, though not very much, were as red as\ncoral, and his upper lip was shaded with a soft down of black. Moreover,\nthis youth was clad altogether in white cloth of satin with no ornaments\nwhatsoever saving only a fine chain of shining silver set with opal-stones\nand emeralds that hung about his neck.\n\nThen when King Arthur approached near enough he perceived by certain signs\nthat the lady was the chiefest of those three, wherefore he paid his court\nto her especially, saying to her: \"Lady, it seems that I have been brought\nhitherward unto you and that you were aware of my name and estate when you\nsent for me. Now I should be exceedingly glad if you would enlighten me in\nthe same manner as to yourself.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" she said, \"that I shall be glad to do; for if I have known you\naforetime, you have also seen me afore time and have known me as your\nfriend.\" Therewith the lady lowered the wimple from her face and King\nArthur perceived that it was the Lady of the Lake.\n\n[Sidenote: King Arthur findeth Sir Pellias again] Upon this he kneeled\ndown upon one knee and took her hand and set it to his lips. \"Lady,\" quoth\nhe, \"I have indeed cause to know you very well, for you have, as you\naffirm, been a friend to me and to my friends upon many several occasions.\"\nThen King Arthur turned to that knight who was with that Lady of the Lake,\nand he said unto him: \"Messire, if I mistake not, I should know you also;\nand I doubt not, if you will lift the umbril of your helmet, we shall all\nthree know your face.\" Upon this the knight without more ado lifted his\numbril as King Arthur had desired him to do and the three beheld that it\nwas Sir Pellias, the Gentle Knight.\n\nNow it hath already been very fully told about Sir Pellias in the Book of\nKing Arthur, and those of you who read of him therein will remember, no\ndoubt, how sorely he was wounded in a combat with Sir Gawaine, who was his\nbest friend, and of how the Lady of the Lake took him to dwell with her in\nthat wonderful city that was hidden by the appearance as of an enchanted\nlake, and of how it was Sir Gawaine who last beheld him upon that occasion.\nBut if Sir Gawaine was the dearest friend that Sir Pellias had at that\ntime, then Sir Ewain was only less dear to him. Therefore, when Sir Ewain\nbeheld that the strange knight was Sir Pellias, he wist not what to think\nfor pure wonder; for no mortal eyes had ever beheld Sir Pellias since he\nhad gone into the lake with the Lady of the Lake that time as foretold, and\nit was not thought that anyone would ever see him again.\n\nSo when Sir Ewain beheld that the knight was Sir Pellias he emitted a great\ncry of joy and ran to him and catched him in his arms, and Sir Pellias\nforbade him not. For though at most times those who are of Faery do not\nsuffer themselves to be touched by mortal hands, yet, upon the Eve of Saint\nJohn's Day, fairies and mortals may commune as though they were of the same\nflesh and blood. Wherefore Sir Pellias did not forbid Sir Ewain, and they\nembraced, as one-time brethren-in-arms should embrace. And each kissed the\nother upon the face, and each made great joy the one over the other. Yea,\nso great was their joy that all those who stood about were moved with pure\nhappiness at beholding them.\n\nThen Sir Pellias came to King Arthur and kneeled down before him and kissed\nhis hand, as is the bounden duty of every knight unto his lord.\n\n\"Ha, Messire,\" quoth King Arthur, \"methought when I beheld this lady, that\nyou would not be very far distant from her.\" Then he said unto the Lady of\nthe Lake: \"Lady, I prithee tell me, who is this fair youth who is with you.\nFor methinks I never beheld before so noble and so beautiful a countenance\nas his. Maybe you will make us acquainted with him also.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said the Lady Nymue, \"who he is, and of what quality, shall, I\nhope, be made manifest in due time; just now I would not wish that he\nshould be known even unto you. But touching him, I may say that it was for\nhis sake that I sent my damsel to meet you at the cross-roads awhile ago.\nBut of that, more anon; for see! the feast is now spread which we have\nprepared for your entertainment. So let us first eat and drink and make\nmerry together, and then we shall speak further of this matter.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady of the Lake prepareth a feast for King Arthur] So they\nall six went and sat down to the table that had been spread for them in the\nopen meadow-land. For the night was very pleasant and warm and a wonderful\nfull moon shone down upon them with a marvellous lustre, and there was a\npleasant air, soft and warm, from the forest, and, what with the scores of\nbright waxen tapers that stood in silver candlesticks upon the table (each\ntaper sparkling as bright as any star), the night was made all illuminate\nlike to some singular mid-day. There was set before them a plenty of divers\nsavory meats and of several excellent wines, some as yellow as gold, and\nsome as red as carbuncle, and they ate and they drank and they made merry\nin the soft moonlight with talk and laughter. Somewhiles they told Sir\nPellias and the lady of all that was toward at court at Camelot;\notherwhiles Sir Pellias and the lady told them such marvellous things\nconcerning the land in which they two dwelt that it would be hard to\nbelieve that the courts of Heaven could be fairer than the courts of\nFairyland whence they had come.\n\nThen, after the feast was ended, the Lady of the Lake said to King Arthur,\n\"Sir, an I have won your favor in any way, there is a certain thing I would\nask of you.\" To the which King Arthur made reply: \"Ask it, Lady, and it\nshall be granted thee, no matter what it may be.\" \"Sir,\" said the Lady of\nthe Lake, \"this is what I would ask of you. I would ask you to look upon\nthis youth who sits beside me. He is so dear to me that I cannot very well\nmake you know how dear he is. I have brought him hither from our\ndwelling-place for one certain reason; to wit, that you should make him\nknight. That is the great favor I would ask of you. To this intent I have\nbrought armor and all the appurtenances of knighthood; for he is of such\nnoble lineage that no armor in the world could be too good for him.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" quoth King Arthur, \"I will do what you ask with much pleasure and\ngladness. But, touching that armor of which you speak, it is my custom to\nprovide anyone whom I make a knight with armor of mine own choosing.\"\n\nTo this the Lady of the Lake smiled very kindly, saying, \"Lord, I pray you,\nlet be in this case, for I daresay that the armor which hath been provided\nfor this youth shall be so altogether worthy of your nobility and of his\nfuture credit that you will be entirely contented with it.\" And with that,\nKing Arthur was altogether satisfied.\n\n[Sidenote: Of the armor, etc., of Sir Launcelot] And, touching that armor,\nthe ancient history that speaketh of these matters saith that it was of\nsuch a sort as this that followeth, and that it was brought from that\nenchanted court of the lake in this wise; to wit, in the front came two\nyouths, leading two white mules, and the mules bore two chests studded with\nsilver bosses. In one chest was the hauberk of that armor and in the other\nwere the iron boots. These were bright like to silver and were inlaid with\ncunningly devised figures, all of pure gold. Next to them came two\nesquires, clad in white robes and mounted upon white horses, bearing the\none a silver shield and the other a shining helmet, as of silver--it\nlikewise being very wonderfully inlaid with figures of pure gold. After\nthese came two other esquires, the one bearing a sword in a white sheath\nembossed with studs of silver (the belt whereof was of silver with facets\nof gold) and the other leading a white charger, whose coat was as soft and\nas shining as silk. And all the gear and furniture of this horse was of\nsilver and of white samite embellished with silver. So from this you can\nsee how nobly that young acolyte was provided with all that beseemed his\nfuture greatness. For, as you may have guessed, this youth was Launcelot,\nKing Ban's son of Benwick, who shortly became the greatest knight in the\nworld.\n\n[Sidenote: Launcelot guards his armor at night] Now there was in that part\nof the forest border a small abbey of monks, and in the chapel of that\nabbey Launcelot watched his armor for that night and Sir Ewain was with him\nfor all that time. Meantime King Arthur and Sir Ector de Maris slept each\nin a silken pavilion provided for them by the Lady of the Lake.\n\nIn the morning Sir Ewain took Launcelot to the bath and bathed him, for\nsuch was the custom of those who were being prepared for knighthood.\n\nNow, whilst Sir Ewain was bathing the youth, he beheld that on his shoulder\nwas a mark in the likeness of a golden star and he marvelled very much\nthereat; but he made no mention of it at that time, but held his peace\nconcerning what he saw; only he marvelled very greatly thereat.\n\n[Sidenote: King Arthur creates Sir Launcelot a Knight-Royal] Then, after\nSir Ewain had bathed Launcelot, he clothed him in raiment fitted for that\nceremony unto which he was ordained, and when the youth was so clothed, Sir\nEwain brought him to King Arthur, and King Arthur knighted Launcelot with\ngreat ceremony, and buckled the belt around him with his own hands. After\nhe had done this Sir Ewain and Sir Ector de Maris set the golden spurs to\nhis heels, and Sir Ector wist not that he was performing such office for\nhis own brother.\n\nSo Sir Launcelot was made knight with great estate and ceremony, whereof I\nhave told you all, unto every particular. For it is fitting that all things\nshould be so told concerning that most great and famous knight.\n\nAfter King Arthur had so dubbed Sir Launcelot knight, it was time that\nthose two parties should part company--to wit, the party of the Lady of the\nLake and the party of King Arthur. But when they were about to leave one\nanother the Lady of the Lake took Sir Launcelot aside, and she spake to him\nafter this manner:\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady of the Lake gives Sir Launcelot good advice]\n\"Launcelot, forget not that you are a king's son, and that your lineage is\nas noble as that of anyone upon earth--for so I have often told you\naforetime. Wherefore, see to it that your worthiness shall be as great as\nyour beauty, and that your courtesy and gentleness shall be as great as\nyour prowess. To-day you shall go unto Camelot with King Arthur to make\nyourself known unto that famous Court of Chivalry. But do not tarry there,\nbut, ere the night cometh, depart and go forth into the world to prove your\nknighthood as worthily as God shall give you grace to do. For I would not\nhave you declare yourself to the world until you have proved your\nworthiness by your deeds. Wherefore, do not yourself proclaim your name,\nbut wait until the world proclaimeth it; for it is better for the world to\nproclaim the worthiness of a man than that the man should proclaim his own\nworthiness. So hold yourself ready to undertake any adventure whatsoever\nthat God sendeth to you to do, but never let any other man complete a task\nunto which you yourself have set your hand.\" Then, after the Lady of the\nLake had so advised Sir Launcelot, she kissed him upon the face, and\ntherewith gave him a ring curiously wrought and set with a wonderful purple\nstone, which ring had such power that it would dissolve every enchantment.\nThen she said: \"Launcelot, wear this ring and never let it be from off your\nfinger.\" And Launcelot said: \"I will do so.\" So Sir Launcelot set the ring\nupon his finger and it was so that it never left his finger whilst he drew\nthe breath of life.\n\nThen King Arthur and Sir Ewain and Sir Ector de Maris and the young Sir\nLauncelot laid their ways toward Camelot. And, as they journeyed so\ntogether, Sir Ewain communicated privily to Sir Ector de Maris how that the\nyouth had a mark as of a golden star upon the skin of his shoulder, and\nupon this news Sir Ector fell very silent. For Sir Ector knew that that\nsign was upon his own brother's shoulder, and he did not know how it could\nbe upon the shoulder of any other man. Wherefore, he wist not what to think\nthat it should be upon the shoulder of this youth. But he said naught of\nthese thoughts to Sir Ewain, but held his peace.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot cometh to Camelot] So they reached Camelot whilst\nit was still quite early in the morning and all they who were there made\ngreat joy at the coming of so wonderfully fair and noble a young knight as\nSir Launcelot appeared to be. Wherefore, there was great sound of rejoicing\nat his coming.\n\nThen, after a while, King Arthur said: \"Let us go and see if, haply, this\nyouth's name is marked upon any of the seats of the Round Table, for I\nthink it should be there.\" So all they of the court went to that pavilion\nafore described, where the Round Table was established, and they looked;\nand lo! upon the seat that King Pellinore had one time occupied was this\nname:\n\nTHE KNIGHT OF THE LAKE\n\nSo the name stood at first, nor did it change until the name of Sir\nLauncelot of the Lake became so famous in all the world. Then it became\nchanged to this:\n\nSIR LAUNCELOT OF THE LAKE.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot becometh knight of the Round Table] So Sir\nLauncelot remained at Camelot for that entire day and was made acquainted\nwith a great many of the lords and ladies and knights and dames of King\nArthur's court. And all that while he was like one that walked in a dream,\nfor he had never before beheld anything of the world of mankind since he\nhad been carried away into the lake, wherefore he wist not very well\nwhether what he saw was real or whether he beheld it in a vision of\nenchantment. For it was all very new and wonderful to him and he took great\ndelight in it because that he was a man and because this world was the\nworld of mankind. Wherefore, though that Castle of the Lake was so\nbeautiful, yet he felt his heart go forth to this other and less beautiful\nland as it did not go forth to that, because he was human and this was\nhuman.\n\nNevertheless, though that was so joyful a day for him, yet Sir Launcelot\ndid not forget what the Lady of the Lake had said concerning the time he\nwas to abide there! Wherefore, when it drew toward evening he besought\nleave of King Arthur to depart from that place in search of adventures, and\nKing Arthur gave him leave to do as he desired.\n\nSo Sir Launcelot prepared to depart, and whilst he was in his chamber\nmaking ready there came in unto him Sir Ector de Maris. And Sir Ector said\nunto him: \"Sir, I prithee tell me--is it true that you bear upon your right\nshoulder a mark like unto a golden star?\" And Sir Launcelot made reply:\n\"Yea, that is true.\" Then Sir Ector said: \"I beseech you to tell me if your\nname is Launcelot.\" And Sir Launcelot said: \"Yea, that is my name.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Of the brotherhood of Sir Ector and Sir Launcelot] Upon this\nSir Ector broke out into great weeping and he catched Sir Launcelot in his\narms and he cried out: \"Launcelot, thou art mine own brother! For thy\nfather was my father, and my mother was thy mother! For we are both sons\nunto King Ban of Benwick, and Queen Helen was our mother.\" Therewith he\nkissed Sir Launcelot with great passion upon the face. And Sir Launcelot\nupon his part kissed Sir Ector with a great passion of joy that he had\nfound a brother in this strange world into which he had so newly come. But\nSir Launcelot charged Sir Ector that he should say nothing of this to any\nman; and Sir Ector pledged his knightly word to that effect. (Nor did he\never tell anyone who Sir Launcelot was until Sir Launcelot had performed\nsuch deeds that all the world spake his name.)\n\nFor when Sir Launcelot went out into the world in that wise he undertook\nseveral very weighty achievements and brought them all to a successful\nissue, so that his name very quickly became known in every court of\nchivalry.\n\n[Sidenote: Of sundry adventures of Sir Launcelot] First he removed an\nenchantment that overhung a castle, hight Dolorous Gard; and he freed that\ncastle and liberated all the sad, sorry captives that lay therein. (And\nthis castle he held for his own and changed the name from Dolorous Gard to\nJoyous Gard and the castle became very famous afterward as his best-loved\npossession. For this was the first of all his possessions that he won by\nthe prowess of his arms and he loved it best of all and considered it\nalways his home.) After that Sir Launcelot, at the bidding of Queen\nGuinevere, took the part of the Lady of Nohan against the King of\nNorthumberland, and he overcame the King of Northumberland and made him\nsubject unto King Arthur. Then he overcame Sir Gallehaut, King of the\nMarches, and sent him captive to the court of King Arthur (and afterward\nSir Gallehaut and Sir Launcelot became great friends for aye). So in a\nlittle while all the world spoke of Sir Launcelot, for it was said of him,\nand truly, that he had never been overcome by any other knight, whether\nupon horseback or upon foot, and that he always succeeded in every\nadventure which he undertook, whether that adventure were great or whether\nit were small. So it was as the Lady of the Lake desired it to be, for Sir\nLauncelot's name became famous, not because he was his father's son, but\nbecause of the deeds which he performed upon his own account.\n\nSo Sir Launcelot performed all these famous adventures, and after that he\nreturned again to the court of King Arthur crowned with the glory of his\nsuccessful knighthood, and there he was received with joy and acclaim and\nwas duly installed in that seat of the Round Table that was his. And in\nthat court he was held in the greatest honor and esteem of all the knights\nwho were there. For King Arthur spake many times concerning him to this\neffect: that he knew not any honor or glory that could belong to a king\ngreater than having such a knight for to serve him as was Sir Launcelot of\nthe Lake. For a knight like Sir Launcelot came hardly ever into the world,\nand when he did come his glory must needs illuminate with its effulgence\nthe entire reign of that king whose servant he was.\n\nSo it was that Sir Launcelot was greatly honored by everybody at the court\nof King Arthur, and he thereafter abided at that court for the most part of\nhis life.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Sidenote: Of Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere] And now I must needs make\nmention of that friendship that existed betwixt Sir Launcelot and Queen\nGuinevere, for after he thus returned to the court of the king, they two\nbecame such friends that no two people could be greater friends than they\nwere.\n\nNow I am aware that there have been many scandalous things said concerning\nthat friendship, but I do not choose to believe any such evil sayings. For\nthere are always those who love to think and say evil things of others. Yet\nthough it is not to be denied that Sir Launcelot never had for his lady any\nother dame than the Lady Guinevere, still no one hath ever said with truth\nthat she regarded Sir Launcelot otherwise than as her very dear friend. For\nSir Launcelot always avouched with his knightly word, unto the last day of\nhis life, that the Lady Guinevere was noble and worthy in all ways,\nwherefore I choose to believe his knightly word and to hold that what he\nsaid was true. For did not he become an hermit, and did not she become a\nnun in their latter days, and were they not both broken of heart when King\nArthur departed from this life in so singular a manner as he did? Wherefore\nI choose to believe good of such noble souls as they, and not evil of them.\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot dwelt at Camelot] Yet, though Sir Launcelot\nthus abided at the court of the King, he ever loved the open world and a\nlife of adventure above all things else. For he had lived so long in the\nLake that these things of the sturdy life of out-of-doors never lost their\ncharm for him. So, though he found, for a while, great joy in being at the\ncourt of the King (for there were many jousts held in his honor, and,\nwhithersoever he rode forth, men would say to one another: \"Yonder goeth\nthat great knight, Sir Launcelot, who is the greatest knight in the\nworld\"), yet he longed ever to be abroad in the wide world again. So one\nday he besought King Arthur for leave to depart thence and to go forth for\na while in search of adventures; and King Arthur gave him leave to do as he\ndesired.\n\nSo now shall be told of several excellent adventures that Sir Launcelot\nundertook, and which he carried through with entire success, and to the\ngreat glory and renown of the Round Table, of which he was the foremost\nknight.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Lionel of Britain]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Second\n\n\n_How Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel Rode Forth Errant Together and How Sir\nLionel Met Sir Turquine to His Great Dole. Also How Sir Ector Grieved for\nthe Departure of His Brother Launcelot and So, Following Him, Fell into a\nVery Sorry Adventure_.\n\nNow after King Arthur had thus given Sir Launcelot leave to go errant and\nwhilst Sir Launcelot was making himself ready to depart there came to him\nSir Lionel, who was his cousin germain, and Sir Lionel besought leave to go\nwith him as his knight-companion, and Sir Launcelot gave him that leave.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel depart in search of adventure] So\nwhen King Arthur confirmed Sir Launcelot's permission Sir Lionel also made\nhimself ready very joyfully, and early of the morning of the next day they\ntwo took their leave of the court and rode away together; the day being\nvery fair and gracious and all the air full of the joy of that\nseason--which was in the flower of the spring-time.\n\nSo, about noon-tide, they came to a certain place where a great apple-tree\nstood by a hedge, and by that time they had grown an-hungered. So they tied\ntheir horses near-by in a cool and shady place and straightway sat them\ndown under the apple-tree in the soft tall grass, which was yet fresh with\nthe coolness of the morning.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot sleepeth beneath an apple-tree] Then when they\nhad ended their meal Sir Launcelot said: \"Brother, I have a great lust to\nsleep for a little space, for I find myself so drowsy that mine eyelids are\nlike scales of lead.\" Unto which Sir Lionel made reply: \"Very well; sleep\nthou for a while, and I will keep watch, and after that thou shalt watch,\nand I will sleep for a little space.\" So Sir Launcelot put his helmet\nbeneath his head and turned upon his side, and in a little had fallen into\na sleep which had neither dream nor thought of any kind, but which was deep\nand pure like to a clear well of water in the forest.\n\nAnd, whilst he slept thus, Sir Lionel kept watch, walking up and down in\nthe shade of a hedge near-by.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Lionel perceives how one knight pursues three knights]\nWhere they were was upon the side of a hill, and beneath them was a little\nvalley; and a road ran through the valley, very white and shining in the\nsunlight, like a silken ribbon, and the road lay between growing fields of\ncorn and pasture-land. Now as Sir Lionel walked beside the hedge he beheld\nthree knights come riding into that valley and along that road with very\ngreat speed and in several clouds of dust; and behind them came a fourth\nknight, who was very huge of frame and who was clad altogether in black\narmor. Moreover, this knight rode upon a black horse and his shield was\nblack and his spear was black and the furniture of his horse was black, so\nthat everything appertaining to that knight was as black as any raven.\n\nAnd Sir Lionel beheld that this one knight pursued those other three\nknights and that his horse went with greater speed than theirs, so that by\nand by he overtook the hindermost knight. And Sir Lionel beheld that the\nsable knight smote the fleeing knight a great buffet with his sword, so\nthat that knight fell headlong from his horse and rolled over two or three\ntimes upon the ground and then lay as though he were dead. Then the black\nknight catched the second of the three, and served him as he had served his\nfellow. Then the third of the three, finding that there was no escape for\nhim, turned as if to defend himself; but the black knight drave at him, and\nsmote him so terrible a blow that I believe had a thunderbolt smitten him\nhe would not have fallen from his horse more suddenly than he did. For,\nthough that combat was full three furlongs away, yet Sir Lionel heard the\nsound of that blow as clearly as though it had been close by.\n\nThen after the black knight had thus struck down those three knights he\nwent to each in turn and tied his hands behind his back. Then, lifting each\nman with extraordinary ease, he laid him across the saddle of that horse\nfrom which he had fallen, as though he were a sack of grain. And all this\nSir Lionel beheld with very great wonder, marvelling much at the strength\nand prowess of that black knight. \"Ha,\" quoth he to himself, \"I will go and\ninquire into this business, for it may haply be that yonder black knight\nshall not find it to be so easy to deal with a knight of the Round Table as\nwith those other three knights.\"\n\nSo, with this, Sir Lionel loosed his horse very quietly and went his way so\nsoftly that Sir Launcelot was not awakened. And after he had gone some way,\nhe mounted his steed and rode off at a fast gallop down into that valley.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Lionel addresses the sable knight] When Sir Lionel had come\nto that place where the knight was, he found that he had just bound the\nlast of the three knights upon the saddle of his horse as aforetold. So Sir\nLionel spoke to the sable knight in this wise: \"Sir, I pray you tell me\nyour name and degree and why you treat those knights in so shameful a\nfashion as I behold you to do.\"\n\n\"Messire,\" said the black knight very fiercely, \"this matter concerns you\nnot at all; yet I may tell you that those knights whom I have overthrown\nare knights of King Arthur's court, and so I serve all such as come into\nthis place. So will I serve you, too, if you be a knight of King Arthur's.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Lionel, \"that is a very ungracious thing for you to say.\nAnd as for that, I too am a knight of King Arthur's court, but I do not\nbelieve that you will serve me as you have served those three. Instead of\nthat, I have great hope that I shall serve you in such a fashion that I\nshall be able to set these knights free from your hands.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The sable knight overcomes Sir Lionel] Thereupon, without more\nado, he made him ready with spear and shield, and the black knight,\nperceiving his design, also made him ready. Then they rode a little\ndistance apart so as to have a fair course for a tilt upon the roadway.\nThen each set spur to his horse and the two drave together with such\nviolence that the earth shook beneath them. So they met fair in the middle\nof the course, but lo! in that encounter the spear of Sir Lionel broke into\nas many as thirty or forty pieces, but the spear of the black knight held,\nso that Sir Lionel was lifted clean out from his saddle and over the\ncrupper of his horse with such violence that when he smote the ground he\nrolled three times over ere he ceased to fall. And because of that fierce,\nterrible blow he swooned away entirely, and all was black before his eyes,\nand he knew nothing.\n\nTherewith the black knight dismounted and tied Sir Lionel's arms behind his\nback and he laid him across the saddle of his horse as he had laid those\nothers across the saddles of their horses; and he tied him there very\nsecurely with strong cords so that Sir Lionel could not move.\n\nAnd all this while Sir Launcelot slept beneath the apple-tree upon the\nhillside, for he was greatly soothed by the melodious humming of the bees\nin the blossoms above where he lay.\n\n[Sidenote: Of Sir Turquine the sable knight] Now you are to know that he\nwho had thus taken Sir Lionel and those three knights prisoner was one Sir\nTurquine, a very cruel, haughty knight, who had a great and strong castle\nout beyond the mouth of that valley in which these knights took combat as\naforetold. Moreover, it was the custom of Sir Turquine to make prisoner all\nthe knights and ladies who came that way; and all the knights and ladies\nwho were not of King Arthur's court he set free when they had paid a\nsufficient ransom unto him; but the knights who were of King Arthur's\ncourt, and especially those who were of the Round Table, he held prisoner\nfor aye within his castle. The dungeon of that castle was a very cold,\ndismal, and unlovely place, and it was to this prison that he proposed to\ntake those four knights whom he had overcome, with intent to hold them\nprisoner as aforetold.\n\nAnd now turn we to King Arthur's court and consider what befell there after\nSir Launcelot and Sir Lionel had left it in search of adventures.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Ector follows Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel] When Sir Ector\nfound that Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel had gone away in that fashion he\nwas very much grieved in spirit; wherefore he said to himself, \"Meseems my\nbrother might have taken me with him as well as our cousin.\" So he went to\nKing Arthur and besought his leave to quit the court and to ride after\nthose other two and to join in their adventures, and King Arthur very\ncheerfully gave him that leave. So Sir Ector made him ready with all\ndespatch, and rode away at a great gait after Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel.\nAnd ever as Sir Ector rode he made diligent inquiry and he found that those\ntwo knights had ridden before him, so he said to himself: \"By and by I\nshall overtake them--if not to-day, at least by night, or by to-morrow\nday.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Ector seeks adventure] But after a while he came to a\ncross-roads, and there he took a way that Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel had\nnot taken; so that, after he had gone a distance, he found that he had\nmissed them by taking that road. Nevertheless, he went on until about the\nprime of the day, what time he met a forester, to whom he said: \"Sirrah,\nsaw you two knights ride this way--one knight clad in white armor with a\nwhite shield upon which was depicted the figure of a lady, and the other\nknight clad in red armor with the figure of a red gryphon upon his shield?\"\n\"Nay,\" said the forester, \"I saw not such folk.\" Then said Sir Ector, \"Is\nthere any adventure to be found hereabouts?\" Upon this the forester fell to\nlaughing in great measure. \"Yea,\" he said, \"there is an adventure to be\nfound hard by and it is one that many have undertaken and not one yet hath\never fulfilled.\" Then Sir Ector said, \"Tell me what that adventure is and I\nwill undertake it.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the forester, \"if you will follow along yonder road for a\ndistance you will find a very large, strong castle surrounded by a broad\nmoat. In front of that castle is a stream of water with a fair, shallow\nford, where the roadway crosses the water. Upon this side of that ford\nthere groweth a thorn-tree, very large and sturdy, and upon it hangs a\nbasin of brass. Strike upon that basin with the butt of your spear, and you\nshall presently meet with that adventure concerning which I have just now\nspoken.\" \"Fellow,\" said Sir Ector, \"grammercy for your news.\" And,\ntherewith, straightway he rode off in search of that adventure.\n\nHe rode a great distance at a very fast gait and by and by he came to the\ntop of a hill and therewith he saw before him the mouth of a fair valley.\nAcross from where he stood was another hill not very large or high, but\nexceedingly steep and rocky. Upon this farther hill was builded a tall,\nnoble castle of gray stone with many towers and spires and tall chimneys\nand with several score of windows, all shining bright in the clear weather.\nA fair river ran down into the mouth of that valley and it was as bright\nand as smooth as silver, and on each side of it were smooth level\nmeadow-lands--very green--and here and there shady groves of trees and\nplantations of fruit-trees. And Sir Ector perceived that the road upon\nwhich he travelled crossed the aforesaid river by a shallow ford, and he\nwist that this must be the ford whereof the forester had spoken. So he rode\ndown unto that ford, and when he had come nigh he perceived the thorn-tree\nof which the forester had told him, and he saw that a great basin of brass\nhung to the thorn-tree, just as the forester had said.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Ector smites upon the brazen basin] Then Sir Ector rode to\nthat thorn-tree and he smote upon that basin of brass with the butt of his\nspear, so that the basin rang with a noise like thunder; and he smote it\nagain and again, several times over. But though he was aware of a great\ncommotion within that fair castle, yet no adventure befell him, although he\nsmote the brazen basin several times.\n\nNow, his horse being athirst, Sir Ector drove him into the ford that he\nmight drink, and whilst he was there he was suddenly aware where, on the\nother side of the stream, was a singular party coming along the roadway.\nFor first of all there rode a knight entirely clad in black, riding upon a\nblack horse, and all the harness and furniture of that horse entirely of\nblack. Behind him, that knight led four horses as though they were\npack-horses, and across each one of those four horses was a knight in full\narmor, bound fast to the saddle like to a sack of grain, whereat Sir Ector\nwas very greatly astonished.\n\nAs soon as that sable knight approached the castle, several came running\nforth and relieved him of those horses he led and took them into the\ncastle, and as soon as he had been thus relieved the sable knight rode very\nviolently up to where Sir Ector was. As soon as he had come to the water's\nedge he cried out: \"Sir Knight, come forth from out of that water and do me\nbattle.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said Sir Ector, \"I will do so, though it will, I think, be to\nthy very great discomfort.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Ector essays battle with the sable knight] With that he\ncame quickly out from the ford, the water whereof was all broken and\nchurned into foam at his passing, and straightway he cast aside his spear\nand drew his sword and, driving against that sable knight, he smote him\nsuch a buffet that his horse turned twice about.\n\n\"Ha,\" said the black knight, \"that is the best blow that ever I had struck\nme in all of my life.\" Therewith he rushed upon Sir Ector, and without\nusing a weapon of any sort he catched him about the body, underneath the\narms, and dragged him clean out of his saddle, and flung him across the\nhorn of his own saddle. Thereupon, having accomplished this marvellous\nfeat, and with Sir Ector still across his saddle-bow, he rode up unto his\ncastle, nor stopped until he had reached the court-yard of the keep. There\nhe set Sir Ector down upon the stone pavement. Then he said: \"Messire, thou\nhast done to me this day what no other knight hath ever done to me before,\nwherefore, if thou wilt promise to be my man from henceforth, I will let\nthee go free and give thee great rewards for thy services as well.\"\n\nBut Sir Ector was filled very full of shame, wherefore he cried out\nfiercely, \"Rather would I lie within a prison all my life than serve so\ncatiff a knight as thou, who darest to treat other knights as thou hast\njust now treated me.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the black knight very grimly, \"thou shalt have thy choice.\"\nTherewith he gave certain orders, whereupon a great many fierce fellows set\nupon Sir Ector and stripped him of all his armor, and immediately haled him\noff, half-naked, to that dungeon aforementioned.\n\n[Sidenote: The sable knight makes prisoner of Sir Ector] There he found\nmany knights of King Arthur's court, and several of the Round Table, all of\nwhom he knew, and when they beheld Sir Ector flung in unto them in that\nfashion they lifted up their voices in great lamentation that he should\nhave been added to their number, instead of freeing them from their\ndolorous and pitiable case. \"Alas,\" said they, \"there is no knight alive\nmay free us from this dungeon, unless it be Sir Launcelot. For this Sir\nTurquine is, certes, the greatest knight in all the world, unless it be Sir\nLauncelot.\"\n\n[Illustration: Queen Morgana appears unto Sir Launcelot]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Third\n\n\n_How Sir Launcelot was Found in a Sleep by Queen Morgana le Fay and Three\nOther Queens who were with Her, and How He was Taken to a Castle of Queen\nMorgana's and of What Befell Him There._\n\n[Sidenote: Four Queens and their courts pass by where Sir Launcelot lies\nsleeping] So Sir Launcelot lay in deep slumber under that apple-tree, and\nknew neither that Sir Lionel had left him nor what ill-fortune had befallen\nthat good knight. Whilst he lay there sleeping in that wise there came by,\nalong the road, and at a little distance from him, a very fair procession\nof lordly people, making a noble parade upon the highway. The chiefest of\nthis company were four ladies, who were four queens. With them rode four\nknights, and, because the day was warm, the four knights bore a canopy of\ngreen silk by the four corners upon the points of their lances in such wise\nas to shelter those queens from the strong heat of the sun. And those four\nknights rode all armed cap-a-pie on four noble war-horses, and the four\nqueens, bedight in great estate, rode on four white mules richly\ncaparisoned with furniture of divers colors embroidered with gold. After\nthese lordly folk there followed a very excellent court of esquires and\ndemoiselles to the number of a score or more; some riding upon horses and\nsome upon mules that ambled very easily.\n\nNow all these folk of greater or lesser degree were entirely unaware that\nSir Launcelot lay sleeping so nigh to them as they rode by chattering very\ngayly together in the spring-time weather, taking great pleasure in the\nwarm air, and in growing things, and the green fields, and the bright sky;\nand they would have had no knowledge that the knight was there, had not Sir\nLauncelot's horse neighed very lustily. Thereupon, they were aware of the\nhorse, and then they were aware of Sir Launcelot where he lay asleep under\nthe apple-tree, with his head lying upon his helmet.\n\nNow foremost of all those queens was Queen Morgana le Fay (who was King\nArthur's sister, and a potent, wicked enchantress, of whom much hath been\ntold in the Book of King Arthur), and besides Queen Morgana there was the\nQueen of North Wales, and the Queen of Eastland, and the Queen of the Outer\nIsles.\n\nNow when this party of queens, knights, esquires, and ladies heard the\nwar-horse neigh, and when they beheld Sir Launcelot where he lay, they\ndrew rein and marvelled very greatly to see a knight sleeping so soundly at\nthat place, maugre all the noise and tumult of their passing. So Queen\nMorgana called to her one of the esquires who followed after them, and she\nsaid to him: \"Go softly and see if thou knowest who is yonder knight; but\ndo not wake him.\"\n\n[Sidenote: An esquire knoweth Sir Launcelot] So the esquire did as she\ncommanded; he went unto that apple-tree and he looked into Sir Launcelot's\nface, and by hap he knew who it was because he had been to Camelot\nerstwhiles and he had seen Sir Launcelot at that place. So he hastened back\nto Queen Morgana and he said to her: \"Lady, I believe that yonder knight is\nnone other than the great Sir Launcelot of the Lake, concerning whom there\nis now such report; for he is reputed to be the most powerful of all the\nknights of King Arthur's Round Table, and the greatest knight in the world,\nso that King Arthur loves him and favors him above all other knights.\"\n\nNow when Queen Morgana le Fay was aware that the knight who was asleep\nthere was Sir Launcelot, it immediately entered her mind for to lay some\npowerful, malignant enchantment upon him to despite King Arthur. For she\ntoo knew how dear Sir Launcelot was to King Arthur, and so she had a mind\nto do him mischief for King Arthur's sake. So she went softly to where Sir\nLauncelot lay with intent to work some such spell upon him. But when she\nhad come to Sir Launcelot she was aware that this purpose of mischief was\nnot possible whilst he wore that ring upon his finger which the Lady of the\nLake had given him; wherefore she had to put by her evil design for a\nwhile.\n\n[Sidenote: Queen Morgana le Fay sets a mild enchantment upon Sir\nLauncelot] But though she was unable to work any malign spell upon him,\nshe was able to cause it by her magic that that sleep in which he lay\nshould remain unbroken for three or four hours. So she made certain\nmovements of her hands above his face and by that means she wove the\nthreads of his slumber so closely together that he could not break through\nthem to awake.\n\nAfter she had done this she called to her several of the esquires who were\nof her party, and these at her command fetched the shield of Sir Launcelot\nand laid him upon it. Then they lifted him and bore him away, carrying him\nin that manner to a certain castle in the forest that was no great distance\naway. And the name of that castle was Chateaubras and it was one of Queen\nMorgana's castles.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot awakens in a fair chamber] And all that while Sir\nLauncelot wist nothing, but lay in a profound sleep, so that when he awoke\nand looked about him he was so greatly astonished that he knew not whether\nhe was in a vision or whether he was awake. For whilst he had gone asleep\nbeneath that apple-tree, here he now lay in a fair chamber upon a couch\nspread with a coverlet of flame-colored linen.\n\nThen he perceived that it was a very fair room in which he lay, for it was\nhung all about with tapestry hangings representing fair ladies at court and\nknights at battle. And there were woven carpets upon the floor, and the\ncouch whereon he lay was of carved wood, richly gilt. There were two\nwindows to that chamber, and when he looked forth he perceived that the\nchamber where he was was very high from the ground, being built so loftily\nupon the rugged rocks at its foot that the forest lay far away beneath him\nlike a sea of green. And he perceived that there was but one door to this\nchamber and that the door was bound with iron and studded with great bosses\nof wrought iron, and when he tried that door he found that it was locked.\n\nSo Sir Launcelot was aware from these things that he was a prisoner--though\nnot a prisoner in a hard case--and he wist not how he had come thither nor\nwhat had happened to him.\n\n[Sidenote: A fair damsel beareth light and food unto Sir Launcelot] Now\nwhen the twilight of the evening had fallen, a porter, huge of frame and\nvery forbidding of aspect, came and opened the door of the chamber where\nSir Launcelot lay, and when he had done so there entered a fair damsel,\nbearing a very good supper upon a silver tray. Moreover, she bore upon the\ntray three tapers of perfumed wax set in three silver candlesticks, and\nthese gave a fair light to the entire room. But, when Sir Launcelot saw the\nmaiden coming thus with intent to serve him, he arose and took the tray\nfrom her and set it himself upon the table; and for this civility the\ndamsel made acknowledgement to him. Then she said to him: \"Sir Knight, what\ncheer do you have?\" \"Ha, damsel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I do not know how to\nanswer you that, for I wist not what cheer to have until I know whether I\nbe with friends or with enemies. For though this chamber wherein I lie is\nvery fair and well-bedight, yet meseems I must have been brought here by\nsome enchantment, and that I am a prisoner in this place; wherefore I know\nnot what cheer to take.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The damsel has pity for Sir Launcelot] Then the damsel looked\nupon Sir Launcelot, and she was very sorry for him. \"Sir,\" quoth she, \"I\ntake great pity to see you in this pass, for I hear tell you are the best\nknight in the world and, of a surety, you are of a very noble appearance. I\nmust tell you that this castle wherein you lie is a castle of enchantment,\nand they who dwell here mean you no good; wherefore I would advise you to\nbe upon your guard against them.\"\n\n\"Maiden,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I give you grammercy for your kind words,\nand I will be upon my guard as you advise me.\"\n\nThen the damsel would have said more, but she durst not for fear that she\nshould be overheard and that evil should befall her, for the porter was\nstill without the door. So in a little she went away and Sir Launcelot was\nleft alone.\n\nBut though the damsel bade Sir Launcelot have good cheer, yet he had no\nvery good cheer for that night, as anyone may well suppose, for he wist not\nwhat was to befall him upon the morrow.\n\nNow when the morning had come Sir Launcelot was aware of someone at his\nchamber door, and when that one entered it was Queen Morgana le Fay.\n\n[Sidenote: How Queen Morgana cometh to Sir Launcelot] She was clad in all\nthe glory at her command, and her appearance was so shining and radiant\nthat when she came into that room Sir Launcelot knew not whether it was a\nvision his eyes beheld or whether she was a creature of flesh and blood.\nFor she came with her golden crown upon her head, and her hair, which was\nas red as gold, was bound around with ribbons of gold; and she was clad all\nin cloth of gold; and she wore golden rings with jewels upon her fingers\nand golden bracelets upon her arms and a golden collar around her\nshoulders; wherefore, when she came into the room she shone with an\nextraordinary splendor, as if she were a marvellous statue made all of pure\ngold--only that her face was very soft and beautiful, and her eyes shone\nexceedingly bright, and her lips, which were as red as coral, smiled, and\nher countenance moved and changed with all the wiles of fascination that\nshe could cause it to assume.\n\nWhen Sir Launcelot beheld her come thus gloriously into his room he rose\nand greeted her with a very profound salutation, for he was astonished\nbeyond measure at beholding that shining vision. Then Queen Morgana gave\nhim her hand, and he kneeled, and took her jewelled fingers in his and set\nher hand to his lips. \"Welcome, Sir Launcelot!\" quoth she; \"welcome to this\nplace! For it is indeed a great honor to have here so noble and famous a\nknight as you!\"\n\n\"Ha, Lady,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"you are gracious to me beyond measure! But\nI pray you tell me how I came to this place and by what means? For when I\nfell asleep yesterday at noon I lay beneath an apple-tree upon a hillside;\nand when I awoke--lo! I found myself in this fair chamber.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Queen Morgana seeks to beguile Sir Launcelot] To this Queen\nMorgana le Fay made smiling reply as follows: \"Sir, I am Queen Morgana le\nFay, of whom you may have heard tell, for I am the sister of King Arthur,\nwhose particular knight you are. Yesterday, at noon, riding with certain\nother queens and a small court of knights, esquires, and demoiselles, we\nwent by where you lay sleeping. Finding you lying so, alone and without any\ncompanion, I was able, by certain arts which I possess, to lay a gentle\nenchantment upon you so that the sleep wherein you lay should remain\nunbroken for three or four hours. So we brought you to this place in hopes\nthat you would stay with us for two or three days or more, and give us the\npleasure of your company. For your fame, which is very great, hath reached\neven as far as this place, wherefore we have made a gentle prisoner of you\nfor this time being.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"such constraint as that would be very pleasing\nto me at another time. But when I fell asleep I was with my cousin, Sir\nLionel, and I know not what hath become of him, and haply he will not know\nwhat hath become of me should he seek me. Now I pray you let me go forth\nand find my cousin, and when I have done so I will return to you again at\nthis place with an easy spirit.\"\n\n\"Well, Messire,\" said Queen Morgana, \"it shall be as you desire, only I\nrequire of you some pledge of your return.\" (Herewith she drew from her\nfinger a golden ring set very richly with several jewels.) \"Now take this\nring,\" she said, \"and give me that ring which I see upon your finger, and\nwhen you shall return hither each shall have his ring again from the\nother.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that may not be. For this ring was placed upon\nmy finger with such a pledge that it may never leave where it is whilst my\nsoul abideth in my body. Ask of me any other pledge and you shall have it;\nbut I cannot give this ring to you.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Queen Morgana hath anger for Sir Launcelot] Upon this Queen\nMorgana's cheeks grew very red, and her eyes shone like sparks of fire.\n\"Ha, Sir Knight,\" she said, \"I do not think you are very courteous to\nrefuse a lady and a queen so small a pledge as that. I am much affronted\nwith you that you should have done so. Wherefore, I now demand of you, as\nthe sister of King Arthur whom you serve, that you give me that ring.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I may not do that, though it grieveth me much\nto refuse you.\"\n\nThen Queen Morgana looked at Sir Launcelot awhile with a very angry\ncountenance, but she perceived that she was not to have her will with him,\nwherefore she presently turned very quickly and went out of the room,\nleaving Sir Launcelot much perturbed in spirit. For he knew how great were\nthe arts of Queen Morgana le Fay, and he could not tell what harm she might\nseek to work upon him by those arts. But he ever bore in mind how that the\nring which he wore was sovereign against such malignant arts as she\npractised, wherefore he took what comfort he could from that circumstance.\n\nNevertheless, he abode in that chamber in great uncertainty for all that\nday, and when night came he was afraid to let himself slumber, lest they of\nthe castle should come whilst he slept and work him some secret ill;\nwherefore he remained awake whilst all the rest of the castle slept. Now at\nthe middle of the night, and about the time of the first cock-crow, he was\naware of a sound without and a light that fell through the crack of the\ndoor. Then, in a little, the door was opened and there entered that young\ndamsel who had served him with his supper the night before, and she bare a\nlighted taper in her hand.\n\n[Sidenote: The damsel cometh again to Sir Launcelot] When Sir Launcelot\nperceived that damsel he said: \"Maiden, do you come hither with good intent\nor with evil intent?\" \"Sir,\" she said, \"I come with good intent, for I take\ngreat pity to see you in such a sorry case as this. I am a King's daughter\nin attendance upon Queen Morgana le Fay, but she is so powerful an\nenchantress that, in good sooth, I am in great fear lest she some time do\nme an ill-hap. So to-morrow I leave her service and return unto my father's\ncastle. Meantime, I am of a mind to help you in your adversity. For Queen\nMorgana trusts me, and I have knowledge of this castle and I have all the\nkeys thereof, wherefore I can set you free. And I will set you free if you\nwill, upon your part, serve me in a way that you can very easily do.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"provided I may serve you in a way fitting my\nknightly honor, I shall be glad to do so under any condition. Now I pray\nyou tell me what it is you would have of me.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The damsel speaketh to Sir Launcelot of her father, King\nBagdemagus] \"Sir,\" said the damsel, \"my father hath made a tournament\nbetwixt him and the King of North Wales upon Tuesday next, and that is just\na fortnight from this day. Now, already my father hath lost one such a\ntournament, for he hath no very great array of knights upon his side, and\nthe King of North Wales hath three knights of King Arthur's Round Table to\naid his party. Because of the great help of these knights of the Round\nTable, the King of North Wales won the last tournament and my father lost\nit, and now he feareth to lose the tournament that is to be. Now if you\nwill enter upon my father's side upon the day of the tournament, I doubt\nnot that he shall win that tournament; for all men say that you are the\ngreatest knight in the world at this time. So if you will promise to help\nmy father and will seal that promise with your knightly word, then will I\nset you free of this castle of enchantment.\"\n\n\"Fair maiden,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"tell me your name and your father's\nname, for I cannot give you my promise until I know who ye be.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot promises to aid King Bagdemagus] \"Sir,\" said the\ndemoiselle, \"I am called Elouise the Fair, and my father is King\nBagdemagus.\" \"Ha!\" quoth Sir Launcelot, \"I know your father, and I know\nthat he is a good king and a very worthy knight besides. If you did me no\nservice whatsoever, I would, at your simple asking, were I free of this\nplace, lend him such aid as it is in my power to give.\"\n\nAt this the damsel took great joy and gave Sir Launcelot thanks beyond\nmeasure. So they spoke together as to how that matter might be brought\nabout so that Sir Launcelot should be brought to talk to King Bagdemagus.\nAnd the damsel Elouise said: \"Let it be this way, Sir Launcelot.\nImprimis--thou art to know that somewhat of a long distance to the\nwestward of that place where thou didst fall asleep yesterday, there\nstandeth a very large, fair abbey known as the Abbey of Saint James the\nLesser. This abbey is surrounded by an exceedingly noble estate that lieth\nall around about it so that no man that haps in that part of the country\ncan miss it if he make inquiry for it. Now I will go and take lodging at\nthat abbey a little while after I leave this place. So when it suits thee\nto do so, come thou thither and thou wilt find me there and I will bring\nthee to my father.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"let it be that way. I will come to that\nplace in good time for the tournament. Meantime, I prithee, rest in the\nassurance that I shall never forgot thy kindness to me this day, nor thy\ngracious behavior and speech unto me. Wherefore I shall deem it not a duty\nbut a pleasure to serve thee.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The damsel bringeth Sir Launcelot to freedom] So, having\narranged all these matters, the damsel Elouise opened the door of that room\nand led Sir Launcelot out thence; and she led him through various passages\nand down several long flights of steps, and so brought him at last unto a\ncertain chamber, where was his armor. Then the damsel helped Sir Launcelot\nto encase him in his armor, so that in a little while he was altogether\narmed as he had been when he fell asleep under that apple-tree. Thereafter\nthe damsel brought him out past the court-yard and unto the stable where\nwas Sir Launcelot's horse, and the horse knew him when he came. So he\nsaddled the horse by the light of a half-moon which sailed like a boat high\nup in the sky through the silver, floating clouds, and therewith he was\nready to depart. Then the damsel opened the gate and he rode out into the\nnight, which was now drawing near the dawning of the day.\n\nThus Elouise the Fair aided Sir Launcelot to escape from that castle of\nenchantment, where else great ill might have befallen him.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd now it shall be told how Sir Launcelot did battle with Sir Turquine and\nof what happened thereat.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Launcelot doeth battle with Sir Turquine]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Fourth\n\n\n_How Sir Launcelot Sought Sir Lionel and How a Young Damsel Brought Him to\nthe Greatest Battle that Ever He Had in All His Life_.\n\nSo Sir Launcelot rode through the forest, and whilst he rode the day began\nto break. About sunrise he came out into an open clearing where certain\ncharcoal-burners were plying their trade.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot breaks his fast in the forest] To these rude\nfellows he appeared out of the dark forest like some bright and shining\nvision; and they made him welcome and offered him to eat of their food, and\nhe dismounted and sat down with them and brake his fast with them. And when\nhe had satisfied his hunger, he gave them grammercy for their\nentertainment, and took horse and rode away.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot cometh again to the place of the apple-tree] He\nmade forward until about the middle of the morning, what time he came\nsuddenly upon that place where, two days before, he had fallen asleep\nbeneath the blooming apple-tree. Here he drew rein and looked about him for\na considerable while; for he thought that haply he might find some trace of\nSir Lionel thereabouts. But there was no trace of him, and Sir Launcelot\nwist not what had become of him.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot perceives a damsel upon a palfrey] Now whilst Sir\nLauncelot was still there, not knowing what to do to find Sir Lionel, there\npassed that way a damsel riding upon a white palfrey. Unto her Sir\nLauncelot made salutation, and she made salutation to him and asked him\nwhat cheer. \"Maiden,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"the cheer that I have is not\nvery good, seeing that I have lost my companion-at-arms and know not where\nhe is.\" Then he said: \"Did you haply meet anywhere with a knight with the\nfigure of a red gryphon upon his shield?\" whereunto the damsel answered:\n\"Nay, I saw none such.\" Then Sir Launcelot said: \"Tell me, fair damsel,\ndost thou know of any adventure hereabouts that I may undertake? For, as\nthou seest, I am errant and in search of such.\"\n\nUpon this the damsel fell a-laughing: \"Yea, Sir Knight,\" said she, \"I know\nof an adventure not far away, but it is an adventure that no knight yet\nthat ever I heard tell of hath accomplished. I can take thee to that\nadventure if thou hast a desire to pursue it.\"\n\n\"Why should I not pursue it,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"seeing that I am here\nfor that very cause--to pursue adventure?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the damsel, \"then come with me, Sir Knight, I will take thee\nto an adventure that shall satisfy thee.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The damsel leads Sir Launcelot to an adventure] So Sir\nLauncelot and that damsel rode away from that place together; he upon his\ngreat war-horse and she upon her ambling palfrey beside him. And the sun\nshone down upon them, very pleasant and warm, and all who passed them\nturned to look after them; for the maiden was very fair and slender, and\nSir Launcelot was of so noble and stately a mien that few could behold him\neven from a distance without looking twice or three times upon him. And as\nthey travelled in that way together they fell into converse, and the damsel\nsaid to Sir Launcelot: \"Sir, thou appearest to be a very good knight, and\nof such a sort as may well undertake any adventure with great hope of\nsuccess. Now I prithee to tell me thy name and what knight thou art.\"\n\n\"Fair maiden,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"as for telling you my name, that I will\ngladly do. I am called Sir Launcelot of the Lake, and I am a knight of King\nArthur's court and of his Round Table.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot and the maiden discourse together] At this the\ndamsel was very greatly astonished and filled with admiration. \"Hah!\" quoth\nshe, \"it is a great pleasure to me to fall in with you, Sir Launcelot, for\nall the world now bespeaketh your fame. Little did I ever think to behold\nyour person, much less speak with you, and ride in this way with you. Now I\nwill tell you what this adventure is on which we are set; it is this--there\nis, some small distance from this, a castle of a knight hight Sir Turquine,\nwho hath in his prison a great many knights of King Arthur's court, and\nseveral knights of his Round Table. These knights he keepeth there in great\ndole and misery, for it is said that their groans may be heard by the\npassers along the high-road below the castle. This Sir Turquine is held to\nbe the greatest knight in the world (unless it be thou) for he hath never\nyet been overcome in battle, whether a-horseback or a-foot. But, indeed, I\nthink it to be altogether likely that thou wilt overcome him.\"\n\n\"Fair damsel,\" quoth Sir Launcelot, \"I too have hope that I shall hold mine\nown with him, when I meet him, and to that I shall do my best endeavor. Yet\nthis and all other matters are entirely in the hands of God.\"\n\nThen the damsel said, \"If you should overcome this Sir Turquine, I know of\nstill another adventure which, if you do not undertake it, I know of no one\nelse who may undertake to bring it to a successful issue.\"\n\nQuoth Sir Launcelot, \"I am glad to hear of that or of any other adventure,\nfor I take great joy in such adventuring. Now, tell me, what is this other\nadventure?\"\n\n[Sidenote: The maiden tells Sir Launcelot of the savage forest knight]\n\"Sir,\" said the damsel, \"a long distance to the west of this there is a\nknight who hath a castle in the woods and he is the evilest disposed knight\nthat ever I heard tell of. For he lurks continually in the outskirts of the\nwoods, whence he rushes forth at times upon those who pass by. Especially\nhe is an enemy to all ladies of that country, for he hath taken many of\nthem prisoners to his castle and hath held them in the dungeon thereof for\nransom; and sometimes he hath held them for a long while. Now I am fain\nthat thou undertake that adventure for my sake.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I believe it would be a good thing for any\nknight to do to rid the world of such an evil-disposed knight as that, so\nif I have the good fortune to overcome this Sir Turquine, I give my\nknightly word that I will undertake this adventure for thy sake, if so be\nthou wilt go with me for to show me the way to his castle.\"\n\n\"That I will do with all gladness,\" said the damsel, \"for it is great pride\nfor any lady to ride with you upon such an adventure.\"\n\nThus they talked, and all was arranged betwixt them. And thus they rode\nvery pleasantly through that valley for the distance of two leagues or a\nlittle more, until they came to that place where the road crossed the\nsmooth stream of water afore told of; and there was the castle of Sir\nTurquine as afore told of; and there was the thorn-bush and the basin\nhanging upon the thorn-bush as afore told of. Then the maiden said: \"Sir\nLauncelot, beat upon that basin and so thou shalt summon Sir Turquine to\nbattle with thee.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot smites upon the basin] So Sir Launcelot rode to\nthat basin where it hung and he smote upon it very violently with the butt\nof his spear. And he smote upon that basin again and again until he smote\nthe bottom from out it; but at that time immediately no one came.\n\nThen, after a while, he was ware of one who came riding toward him, and he\nbeheld that he who came riding was a knight very huge of frame, and long\nand strong of limb. And he beheld that the knight was clad entirely in\nblack, and that the horse upon which he rode and all the furniture of the\nhorse was black. And he beheld that this knight drave before him another\nhorse, and that across the saddle of that other horse there lay an armed\nknight, bound hand and foot; and Sir Launcelot wist that the sable knight\nwho came riding was that Sir Turquine whom he sought.\n\n[Sidenote: The sable knight bringeth Sir Gaheris captive] So Sir Turquine\ncame very rapidly along the highway toward where Sir Launcelot sat, driving\nthat other horse and the captive knight before him all the while. And as\nthey came nearer and nearer Sir Launcelot thought that he should know who\nthe wounded knight was and when they came right close, so that he could see\nthe markings of the shield of that captive knight, he wist that it was Sir\nGaheris, the brother of Sir Gawaine, and the nephew of King Arthur, whom\nSir Turquine brought thither in that wise.\n\nAt this Sir Launcelot was very wroth; for he could not abide seeing a\nfellow-knight of the Round Table treated with such disregard as that which\nSir Gaheris suffered at the hands of Sir Turquine; wherefore Sir Launcelot\nrode to meet Sir Turquine, and he cried out: \"Sir Knight! put that wounded\nman down from his horse, and let him rest for a while, and we two will\nprove our strength, the one against the other! For it is a shame for thee\nto treat a noble knight of the Round Table with such despite as thou art\ntreating that knight.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Turquine, \"as I treat that knight, so treat I all knights\nof the Round Table--and so will I treat thee if thou be of the Round\nTable.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"as for that, I am indeed of the Round Table,\nand I have come hither for no other reason than for to do battle with\nthee.\"\n\n\"Sir Knight,\" said Sir Turquine, \"thou speakest very boldly; now I pray\nthee to tell me what knight thou art and what is thy name.\"\n\n\"Messire,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I have no fear to do that. I am called Sir\nLauncelot of the Lake, and I am a knight of King Arthur's, who made me\nknight with his own hand.\"\n\n\"Ha!\" said Sir Turquine, \"that is very good news to me, for of all knights\nin the world thou art the one I most desire to meet, for I have looked for\nthee for a long while with intent to do battle with thee. For it was thou\nwho didst slay my brother Sir Caradus at Dolorous Gard, who was held to be\nthe best knight in all the world. Wherefore, because of this, I have the\ngreatest despite against thee of any man in the world, and it was because\nof that despite that I waged particular battle against all the knights of\nKing Arthur's court. And in despite of thee I now hold five score and eight\nknights, who are thy fellows, in the dismallest dungeon of my castle. Also\nI have to tell thee that among those knights is thine own brother, Sir\nEctor, and thy kinsman, Sir Lionel. For I overthrew Sir Ector and Sir\nLionel only a day or two ago, and now they lie almost naked in the lower\nparts of that castle yonder. I will put down this knight as thou biddst me,\nand when I have done battle with thee I hope to tie thee on his\nsaddle-horn in his place.\"\n\nSo Sir Turquine loosed the cords that bound Sir Gaheris and set him from\noff the horse's back, and Sir Gaheris, who was sorely wounded and very\nweak, sat him down upon a slab of stone near-by.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot and Sir Turquine do battle together] Then Sir\nLauncelot and Sir Turquine made themselves ready at all points, and each\ntook such stand as seemed to him to be best; and when each was ready for\nthe assault, each set spurs to his horse and rushed the one against the\nother with such terrible violence that they smote together like a clap of\nthunder.\n\nSo fierce was that onset that each horse fell back upon the ground and only\nby great skill and address did the knight who rode him void his saddle, so\nas to save himself from a fall. And in that meeting the horse of Sir\nTurquine was killed outright and the back of Sir Launcelot's horse was\nbroken and he could not rise, but lay like dead upon the ground.\n\nThen each knight drew his sword and set his shield before him and they came\ntogether with such wrath that it appeared as though their fierce eyes shot\nsparks of fire through the oculariums of their helmets. So they met and\nstruck; and they struck many scores of times, and their blows were so\nviolent that neither shield nor armor could withstand the strokes they\ngave. For their shields were cleft and many pieces of armor were hewn from\ntheir limbs, so that the ground was littered with them. And each knight\ngave the other so many grim wounds that the ground presently was all\nsprinkled with red where they stood.\n\nNow that time the day had waxed very hot, for it was come high noontide, so\npresently Sir Turquine cried out: \"Stay thee, Sir Launcelot, for I have a\nboon to ask!\" At this Sir Launcelot stayed his hand and said: \"What is it\nthou hast to ask, Sir Knight?\" Sir Turquine said: \"Messire, I am\nathirst--let me drink.\" And Sir Launcelot said: \"Go and drink.\"\n\nSo Sir Turquine went to that river and entered into that water, which was\npresently stained with red all about him. And he stooped where he stood and\ndrank his fill, and presently came forth again altogether refreshed.\n\nTherewith he took up his sword once more and rushed at Sir Launcelot and\nsmote with double strength, so that Sir Launcelot bent before him and had\nmuch ado to defend himself from these blows.\n\nThen by and by Sir Launcelot waxed faint upon his part and was athirst, and\nhe cried out: \"I crave of thee a boon, Sir Knight!\" \"What wouldst thou\nhave?\" said Sir Turquine. \"Sir Knight,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"bide while I\ndrink, for I am athirst.\" \"Nay,\" said Sir Turquine, \"thou shalt not drink\nuntil thou quenchest thy thirst in Paradise.\" \"Ha!\" cried Sir Launcelot,\n\"thou art a foul churl and no true knight. For when thou wert athirst, I\nlet thee drink; and now that I am athirst, thou deniest me to quench my\nthirst.\"\n\nTherewith he was filled with such anger that he was like one gone wode;\nwherefore he flung aside his shield and took his sword in both hands and\nrushed upon Sir Turquine and smote him again and again; and the blows he\ngave were so fierce that Sir Turquine waxed somewhat bewildered and bore\naback, and held his shield low for faintness.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overcometh Sir Turquine] Then when Sir Launcelot\nbeheld that Sir Turquine was faint in that wise, he rushed upon him and\ncatched him by the beaver of his helmet and pulled him down upon his knees.\nAnd Sir Launcelot rushed Sir Turquine's helmet from off his head. And he\nlifted his sword and smote Sir Turquine's head from off his shoulders, so\nthat it rolled down upon the ground.\n\nThen for a while Sir Launcelot stood there panting for to catch his breath\nafter that sore battle, for he was nearly stifled with the heat and fury\nthereof. Then he went down into the water, and he staggered like a drunken\nman as he went, and the water ran all red at his coming. And Sir Launcelot\nstooped and slaked his thirst, which was very furious and hot.\n\nThereafter he came up out of the water again, all dripping, and he went to\nwhere the damsel was and he said to her; \"Damsel, lo, I have overcome Sir\nTurquine; now I am ready to go with thee upon that other adventure, as I\npromised thee I would.\"\n\nAt this the damsel was astonished beyond measure, wherefore she cried:\n\"Sir, thou art sorely hurt, and in need of rest for two or three days, and\nmaybe a long time more, until thy wounds are healed.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"no need to wait; I will go with thee now.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot went to Sir Gaheris--for Sir Gaheris had been sitting\nfor all that while upon that slab of stone. Sir Launcelot said to Sir\nGaheris: \"Fair Lord, be not angry if I take your horse, for I must\npresently go with this damsel, and you see mine own horse hath broke his\nback.\"\n\n\"Sir Knight,\" said Sir Gaheris, \"this day you have saved both me and my\nhorse, wherefore it is altogether fitting that my horse or anything that is\nmine should be yours to do with as you please. So I pray you take my horse,\nonly tell me your name and what knight you are; for I swear by my sword\nthat I never saw any knight in all the world do battle so wonderfully as\nyou have done to-day.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot makes himself known to Sir Gaheris] \"Sir,\" said\nSir Launcelot, \"I am called Sir Launcelot of the Lake, and I am a knight of\nKing Arthur's. So it is altogether fitting that I should do such service\nunto you as this, seeing that you are the brother of that dear knight, Sir\nGawaine. For if I should not do this battle that I have done for your sake,\nI should yet do it for the sake of my lord, King Arthur, who is your uncle\nand Sir Gawaine's uncle.\"\n\nNow when Sir Gaheris heard who Sir Launcelot was, he made great exclamation\nof amazement. \"Ha, Sir Launcelot!\" he cried, \"and is it thou! Often have I\nheard of thee and of thy prowess at arms! I have desired to meet thee more\nthan any knight in the world; but never did I think to meet thee in such a\ncase as this.\" Therewith Sir Gaheris arose, and went to Sir Launcelot, and\nSir Launcelot came to him and they met and embraced and kissed one another\nupon the face; and from that time forth they were as brethren together.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot bids Sir Gaheris to free the castle captives]\nThen Sir Launcelot said to Sir Gaheris: \"I pray you, Lord, for to go up\nunto yonder castle, and bring succor to those unfortunates who lie therein.\nFor I think you will find there many fellow-knights of the Round Table. And\nI believe that you will find therein my brother, Sir Ector, and my cousin,\nSir Lionel. And if you find any other of my kindred I pray you to set them\nfree and to do what you can for to comfort them and to put them at their\nease. And if there is any treasure in that castle, I bid you give it unto\nthose knights who are prisoners there, for to compensate them for the pains\nthey have endured. Moreover, I pray you tell Sir Ector and Sir Lionel not\nto follow after me, but to return to court and wait for me there, for I\nhave two adventures to undertake and I must essay them alone.\"\n\nThen Sir Gaheris was very much astonished, and he cried out upon Sir\nLauncelot: \"Sir! Sir! Surely you will not go forth upon another adventure\nat this time, seeing that you are so sorely wounded.\"\n\nBut Sir Launcelot said: \"Yea, I shall go now; for I do not think that my\nwounds are so deep that I shall not be able to do my devoirs when my time\ncometh to do them.\"\n\nAt this Sir Gaheris was amazed beyond measure, for Sir Launcelot was very\nsorely wounded, and his armor was much broken in that battle, wherefore Sir\nGaheris had never beheld a person who was so steadfast of purpose as to do\nbattle in such a case.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot departs with the damsel] So Sir Launcelot mounted\nSir Gaheris' horse and rode away with that young damsel, and Sir Gaheris\nwent to the castle as Sir Launcelot had bidden him to do.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Gaheris frees the castle captives] In that castle he found\nfive score and eight prisoners in dreadful case, for some who were there\nhad been there for a long time, so that the hair of them had grown down\nupon their shoulders, and their beards had grown down upon their breasts.\nAnd some had been there but a short time, as was the case of Sir Lionel and\nSir Ector. But all were in a miserable sorry plight; and all of those sad\nprisoners but two were knights of King Arthur's court, and eight of them\nwere knights of the Round Table. All these crowded around Sir Gaheris, for\nthey saw that he was wounded and they deemed that it was he had set them\nfree, wherefore they gave him thanks beyond measure.\n\n\"Not so,\" said Sir Gaheris, \"it was not I who set you free; it was Sir\nLauncelot of the Lake. He overcame Sir Turquine in such a battle as I never\nbefore beheld. For I saw that battle with mine own eyes, being at a little\ndistance seated upon a stone slab and wounded as you see. And I make my\noath that I never beheld so fierce and manful a combat in all of my life.\nBut now your troubles are over and done, and Sir Launcelot greets you all\nwith words of good cheer and bids me tell you to take all ease and comfort\nthat you can in being free, and in especial he bids me greet you, Sir\nEctor, and you, Sir Lionel, and to tell you that you are to follow him no\nfarther, but to return to court and bide there until he cometh; for he\ngoeth upon an adventure which he must undertake by himself.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Lionel and Sir Ector and Sir Kay follow after Sir\nLauncelot] \"Not so,\" said Sir Lionel, \"I will follow after him, and find\nhim.\" And so said Sir Ector likewise, that he would go and find Sir\nLauncelot. Then Sir Kay the Seneschal said that he would ride with those\ntwo; so the three took horse and rode away together to find Sir Launcelot.\n\nAs for those others, they ransacked throughout the castle of Sir Turquine,\nand they found twelve treasure-chests full of treasure, both of silver and\nof gold, together with many precious jewels; and they found many bales of\ncloth of silk and of cloth of gold. So, as Sir Launcelot had bid them do\nso, they divided the treasure among themselves, setting aside a part for\nSir Ector and a part for Sir Lionel and a part for Sir Kay. Then, whereas\nbefore they had been mournful, now they were joyful at having been made so\nrich with those precious things.\n\nThus happily ended that great battle with Sir Turquine which was very\nlikely the fiercest and most dolorous fight that ever Sir Launcelot had in\nall of his life. For, unless it was Sir Tristram, he never found any other\nknight so big as Sir Turquine except Sir Galahad, who was his own son.\n\nAnd now it shall be told how Sir Launcelot fared upon that adventure which\nhe had promised the young damsel to undertake.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Launcelot sits with Sir Hilaire and Croisette]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Fifth\n\n\n_How Sir Launcelot Went Upon an Adventure with the Damsel Croisette as\nCompanion, and How He Overcame Sir Peris of the Forest Sauvage._\n\nNow after Sir Launcelot had finished that battle with Sir Turquine as\naforetold, and when he had borrowed the horse of Sir Gaheris, he rode away\nfrom that place of combat with the young damsel, with intent to carry out\nthe other adventure which he had promised her to undertake.\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot's wounds pain him] But though he rode with\nher, yet, for a while, he said very little to her, for his wounds ached him\nsorely and he was in a great deal of pain. So, because of this, he had\nsmall mind to talk, but only to endure what he had to endure with as much\npatience as he might command. And the damsel upon her part was somewhat\naware of what Sir Launcelot was suffering and she was right sorry for him,\nwherefore she did not trouble him with idle discourse at that moment, but\nwaited for a while before she spake.\n\nThen by and by she said to him: \"Messire, I would that thou wouldst rest\nfor some days, and take thine ease, and have thy wounds searched and\ndressed, and have thy armor looked to and redded. Now there is a castle at\nsome distance from this, and it is my brother's castle, and thither we may\ngo in a little pass. There thou mayst rest for this night and take thine\nease. For I know that my brother will be wonderfully glad to see thee\nbecause thou art so famous.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot turned his eyes upon the damsel: \"Fair maiden,\" quoth\nhe, \"I make confession that I do in sooth ache a very great deal, and that\nI am somewhat aweary with the battle I have endured this day. Wherefore I\nam very well content to follow thy commands in this matter. But I prithee,\ndamsel, tell me what is thy name, for I know not yet how thou art called.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" she said, \"I am called Croisette of the Dale, and my brother is\ncalled Sir Hilaire of the Dale, and it is to his castle that I am about to\ntake thee to rest for this time.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot said: \"I go with thee, damsel, wherever it is thy will\nto take me.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Of how Sir Launcelot and the damsel ride together] So they two\nrode through that valley at a slow pace and very easily. And toward the\nwaning of the afternoon they left the valley by a narrow side way, and so\nin a little while came into a shallow dale, very fertile and smiling, but\nof no great size. For the more part that dale was all spread over with\nfields and meadow-lands, with here and there a plantation of trees in full\nblossom and here and there a farm croft. A winding river flowed down\nthrough the midst of this valley, very quiet and smooth, and brimming its\ngrassy banks, where were alder and sedge and long rows of pollard willows\noverreaching the water.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot and Croisette come to a fair valley] At the\nfarther end of the valley was a castle of very comely of appearance, being\nbuilt part of stone and part of bright red bricks; and the castle had many\nwindows of glass and tall chimneys, some a-smoke. About the castle and nigh\nto it was a little village of thatched cottages, with many trees in blossom\nand some without blossom shading the gables of the small houses that took\nshelter beneath them.\n\nNow when Sir Launcelot and Croisette came into that little valley it was at\nthe declining of the day and the sky was all alight with the slanting sun,\nand the swallows were flying above the smooth shining surface of the river\nin such multitudes that it was wonderful to behold them. And the lowing\nherds were winding slowly along by the river in their homeward way, and all\nwas so peaceful and quiet that Sir Launcelot drew rein for pure pleasure,\nand sat for some while looking down upon that fair, happy dale. Then by and\nby he said: \"Croisette, meseems I have never beheld so sweet and fair a\ncountry as this, nor one in which it would be so pleasant to live.\"\n\nUpon this Croisette was very much pleased, and she smiled upon Sir\nLauncelot. \"Think you so, Sir Launcelot?\" quoth she. \"Well, in sooth, I am\nvery glad that this valley pleasures you; for I love it beyond any other\nplace in all the world. For here was I born and here was I raised in that\ncastle yonder. For that is my brother's castle and it was my father's\ncastle before his time; wherefore meseems that no place in all the world\ncan ever be so dear to my heart as this dale.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Croisette bringeth Sir Launcelot to her brother's house]\nThereupon they went forward up that little valley, and along by the\nsmoothly flowing river, and the farther they went the more Sir Launcelot\ntook pleasure in all that he beheld. Thus they came through the pretty\nvillage where the folk stood and watched with great admiration how that\nnoble knight rode that way; and so they came to the castle and rode into\nthe court-yard thereof. Then presently there came the lord of that castle,\nwho was Sir Hilaire of the Dale. And Sir Hilaire greeted Sir Launcelot,\nsaying: \"Welcome, Sir Knight. This is great honor you do me to come into\nthis quiet dale with my sister, for we do not often have with us travellers\nof such quality as you.\"\n\n\"Brother,\" said Croisette, \"you may well say that it is an honor to have\nthis knight with us, for this is none other knight than the great Sir\nLauncelot of the Lake. This day I beheld him overcome Sir Turquine in fair\nand honorable battle. So he doth indeed do great honor for to visit us in\nthis wise.\"\n\nThen Sir Hilaire looked at Sir Launcelot very steadily, and he said: \"Sir\nLauncelot, your fame is so great that it hath reached even unto this\npeaceful outland place; wherefore it shall not soon be forgotten here how\nyou came hither. Now, I pray you, come in and refresh yourself, for I see\nthat you are wounded and I doubt not you are weary.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot is made at ease] Upon this several attendants\ncame, and they took Sir Launcelot and led him to a pleasant chamber. There\nthey unarmed him and gave him a bath in tepid water, and there came a leech\nand searched his wounds and dressed them. Then those in attendance upon him\ngave him a soft robe of cloth of velvet, and when Sir Launcelot had put it\non he felt much at ease, and in great comfort of body.\n\nBy and by, when evening had fallen, a very good, excellent feast was spread\nin the hall of the castle, and there sat down thereto Sir Launcelot and Sir\nHilaire and the damsel Croisette. As they ate they discoursed of various\nthings, and Sir Launcelot told many things concerning his adventures, so\nthat all who were there were very quiet, listening to what he said. For it\nwas as though he were a visitor come to them from some other world, very\nstrange and distant, of which they had no knowledge, wherefore they all\nlistened so as not to lose a single word of what he told them. So that\nevening passed very pleasantly, and Sir Launcelot went to his bed with\ngreat content of spirit.\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot abides at the castle of Sir Hilaire] So Sir\nLauncelot abided for several days in that place until his wounds were\nhealed. Then one morning, after they had all broken their fast, he made\nrequest that he and the damsel might be allowed to depart upon that\nadventure which he had promised her to undertake, and unto this Sir Hilaire\ngave his consent.\n\nNow, during this while, Sir Launcelot's armor had been so pieced and mended\nby the armor-smiths of that castle that when he donned it it was, in a\nmeasure, as sound as it had ever been, and of that Sir Launcelot was very\nglad. So having made ready in all ways he and Croisette took leave of that\nplace, and all they who were there bade them adieu and gave Sir Launcelot\nGod-speed upon that adventure.\n\nNow some while after they left that dale they rode through a very ancient\nforest, where the sod was exceedingly soft underfoot and silent to the\ntread of the horses, and where it was very full of bursting foliage\noverhead. And as they rode at an easy pace through that woodland place they\ntalked of many things in a very pleasant and merry discourse.\n\nQuoth the damsel unto Sir Launcelot: \"Messire, I take very great wonder\nthat thou hast not some special lady for to serve in all ways as a knight\nshould serve a lady.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot and Croisette discourse together] \"Ha, damsel,\"\nsaid Sir Launcelot, \"I do serve a lady in that manner and she is peerless\nabove all other ladies; for that lady is the Lady Guinevere, who is King\nArthur's queen. Yet though I am her servant I serve her from a very great\ndistance. For in serving her I am like one who standeth upon the earth, yet\nlooketh upward ever toward the bright and morning star. For though such an\none may delight in that star from a distance, yet may he never hope to\nreach an altitude whereon that star standeth.\"\n\n\"Heyday!\" quoth Croisette, \"for that matter, there are other ways of\nserving a lady than that wise. Were I a knight meseems I would rather serve\na lady nearer at hand than at so great distance as that of which thou\nspeakest. For in most cases a knight would rather serve a lady who may\nsmile upon him nigh at hand, and not stand so far off from him as a star in\nthe sky.\" But to this Sir Launcelot made no reply but only smiled. Then in\na little Croisette said: \"Dost thou never think of a lady in that wise, Sir\nLauncelot?\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot speaketh of the Lady Guinevere] \"Nay,\" said Sir\nLauncelot, \"and neither do I desire so to serve any lady. For it is thus\nwith me, Croisette--for all that while of my life until I was eighteen\nyears of age I lived in a very wonderful land beneath a magical lake, of\nwhich I may not tell thee. Then I came out of that lake and into this world\nand King Arthur made me a knight. Now because I was so long absent from\nthis world of mankind and never saw aught of it until I was grown into a\nman, meseems I love that world so greatly that I cannot tell thee how\nbeautiful and wonderful it seems to me. For it is so wonderful and so\nbeautiful that methinks my soul can never drink its fill of the pleasures\nthereof. Yea; methinks I love every blade of grass upon the fields, and\nevery leaf upon every tree: and that I love everything that creepeth or\nthat flyeth, so that when I am abroad under the sky and behold those things\nabout me I am whiles like to weep for very joy of them. Wherefore it is,\nCroisette, that I would rather be a knight-errant in this world which I\nlove so greatly than to be a king seated upon a throne with a golden crown\nupon my head and all men kneeling unto me. Yea; meseems that because of my\njoy in these things I have no room in my heart for such a love of lady as\nthou speakest of, but only for the love of knight-errantry, and a great\nwish for to make this world in which I now live the better and the happier\nfor my dwelling in it. Thus it is, Croisette, that I have no lady for to\nserve in the manner thou speakest of. Nor will I ever have such, saving\nonly the Lady Guinevere, the thought of whom standeth above me like that\nbright star afore spoken of.\"\n\n\"Ha,\" quoth Croisette, \"then am I sad for the sake of some lady, I know not\nwho. For if thou wert of another mind thou mightest make some lady very\nglad to have so great a knight as thou art to serve her.\" Upon this Sir\nLauncelot laughed with a very cheerful spirit, for he and the damsel were\ngrown to be exceedingly good friends, as you may suppose from such\ndiscourse as this.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot perceives the Castle of Sir Peris] So they wended\ntheir way in this fashion until somewhat after the prime of day, and by\nthat time they had come out of that forest and into a very rugged country.\nFor this place into which they were now come was a sort of rocky valley,\nrough and bare and in no wise beautiful. When they had entered into it they\nperceived, a great way off, a castle built up upon the rocks. And that\ncastle was built very high, so that the roofs and the chimneys thereof\nstood wonderfully sharp and clear against the sky; yet the castle was so\ndistant that it looked like a toy which you might easily take into your\nhand and hold betwixt your fingers.\n\nThen Croisette said to Sir Launcelot: \"Yonder is the castle of that\nevil-minded knight of whom I spake to thee yesterday, and his name is Sir\nPeris of the Forest Sauvage. Below that castle, where the road leads into\nthat woodland, there doth he lurk to seize upon wayfarers who come\nthitherward. And indeed he is a very catiff knight, for, though he is\nstrong and powerful, he doth not often attack other knights, but only\nladies and demoiselles who come hither. For these he may take captive\nwithout danger to himself. For I believe that though he is so big of frame\nyet is he a coward in his heart.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot advises Croisette what to do] Then Sir Launcelot\nsat for a while and regarded that castle, and fell into thought; and he\nsaid, \"Damsel, if so be this knight is such a coward as thou sayest,\nmeseems that if I travel with thee I shall have some ado to come upon him;\nbecause, if he sees me with thee, he may keep himself hidden in the thicket\nof the forest from my sight. Now I will have it this way; do thou ride\nalong the highway in plain sight of the castle, and I will keep within the\nwoodland skirts, where I may have thee in sight and still be hidden from\nthe sight of others. Then if this knight assail thee, as I think it likely\nhe may do, I will come out and do battle with him ere he escapes.\"\n\nSo it was arranged as Sir Launcelot said and they rode in that wise:\nCroisette rode along the highway, and Sir Launcelot rode under the trees in\nthe outskirts of the forest, where he was hidden from the eyes of anyone\nwho might be looking that way. So they went on for a long pass until they\ncame pretty nigh to where the castle was.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Peris attacks Croisette] Then, as they came to a certain\npart of the road that dipped down toward a small valley, they were suddenly\naware of a great noise, and immediately there issued out from the forest a\nknight, large and strong of frame, and followed close behind by a squire\ndressed altogether in scarlet from head to foot. This knight bore down with\ngreat speed upon where Croisette was, and the esquire followed close behind\nhim. When these two had come near to Croisette, the esquire leaped from off\nhis horse and caught her palfrey by the bridle, and the knight came close\nto her and catched her as though to drag her off from her horse.\n\nWith that Croisette shrieked very loud, and immediately Sir Launcelot broke\nout from the woods and rode down upon where all this was toward with a\nnoise like to thunder. As he came he cried aloud in a great and terrible\nvoice: \"Sir Knight, let go that lady, and turn thou to me and defend\nthyself!\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overthrows Sir Peris] Then Sir Peris of the\nForest Sauvage looked this way and that with intent to escape, but he was\naware that he could not escape from Sir Launcelot, wherefore he took his\nshield in hand and drew his sword and put himself into a position of\ndefence; for, whereas he could not escape, he was, perforce, minded to do\nbattle. Then Sir Launcelot threw aside his spear, and he set his shield\nbefore him and he took his sword in his hand, and he drave his horse\nagainst Sir Peris. And when he had come nigh to Sir Peris he raised himself\nin his stirrups and struck him such a buffet that I believe nothing in the\nworld could withstand its force. For though Sir Peris raised his shield\nagainst that blow, yet the sword of Sir Launcelot smote through the shield\nand it smote down the arm that held the shield, and it smote with such a\nterrible force upon the helm of Sir Peris that Sir Peris fell down from his\nhorse and lay in a swoon without any motion at all.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot leaped down from his horse and rushed off the helm of\nSir Peris, and lifted his sword with intent to strike off his head.\n\nUpon that the senses of Sir Peris came somewhat back to him, and he set his\npalms together and he cried out, though in a very weak voice: \"Spare me,\nSir Knight! I yield myself to thee!\"\n\n\"Why should I spare thee?\" said Sir Launcelot.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Peris, \"I beseech thee, by thy knighthood, to spare me.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"since thou hast besought me upon my knighthood\nI cannot do else than spare thee. But if I do spare thee, thou shalt have\nto endure such shame that any true knight in thy stead would rather die\nthan be spared in such a manner.\"\n\n\"Sir Knight,\" said Sir Peris, \"I am content with anything thou mayst do, so\nbe that thou wilt spare my life.\"\n\nUpon this Sir Launcelot bade Sir Peris rise. And he took the halter of Sir\nPeris's horse, and he bound Sir Peris's arms behind his back, and when he\nhad done this he drove him up to his castle at the point of his lance. And\nwhen they came to the castle he bade Sir Peris have open the castle; and\nSir Peris did so; and thereupon Sir Launcelot and Sir Peris entered the\ncastle and the damsel and the squire followed after them.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot liberates the captive ladies] In that castle were\nfourteen ladies of high degree held captive for ransom; and some of these\nhad been there for a considerable time, to their great discomfort. All\nthese were filled with joy when they were aware that Sir Launcelot had set\nthem free. So they came to Sir Launcelot and paid their court to him and\ngave him great thanks beyond measure.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot gives the castle treasure to the captive ladies]\nSir Launcelot and Croisette abode in that castle all that night, and when\nthe next morning had come Sir Launcelot made search all over that castle,\nand he found a considerable treasure of silver and gold, which had been\ngathered there by the ransom of the ladies and the damsels of degree whom\nSir Peris had made prisoner aforetime. All this treasure Sir Launcelot\ndivided among those ladies who were prisoners, and a share of the treasure\nhe gave to the damsel Croisette, because that they two were such good\nfriends and because Croisette had brought him thither to that adventure,\nand thereof Croisette was very glad. But Sir Launcelot kept none of that\ntreasure for himself.\n\nThen Croisette said: \"How is this, Sir Launcelot? You have not kept any of\nthis treasure for yourself, yet you won it by your own force of arms,\nwherefore it is altogether yours to keep if you will to do so.\"\n\n\"Croisette,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I do not care for such things as this\ntreasure; for when I lived within that lake of which I have spoken to thee,\nsuch things as this treasure were there as cheap as pebbles which you may\ngather up at any river-bed, wherefore it has come to pass that such things\nhave no value to me.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot makes Sir Peris a dishonored captive] Now, after\nall this had been settled, Sir Launcelot had Sir Peris of the Forest\nSauvage haled before him, and Sir Launcelot said: \"Catiff Knight, now is it\ntime for thy shame to come upon thee.\" Therewith he had Sir Peris stripped\nof all armor and raiment, even to his jerkin and his hose, and he had his\narms tied behind his back, and he had a halter set about his neck; and Sir\nLauncelot tied the halter that was about the neck of Sir Peris to the horn\nof the saddle of his own horse, so that when he rode away with Croisette\nSir Peris must needs follow behind him at whatever gait the horse of Sir\nLauncelot might take.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Hilaire sendeth Sir Peris to King Arthur] So Sir Launcelot\nand Croisette rode back to the manor of Sir Hilaire of the Dale with Sir\nPeris running behind them, and when they had come there Sir Launcelot\ndelivered Sir Peris unto Sir Hilaire, and Sir Hilaire had Sir Peris bound\nupon a horse's back with his feet underneath the belly of the horse; and\nsent him to Camelot for King Arthur to deal with him as might seem to the\nKing to be fit.\n\nBut Sir Launcelot remained with Sir Hilaire of the Dale all the next day\nand he was very well content to be in that pleasant place. And upon the day\nafter that, which was Sunday, he set forth at about the prime of the day to\ngo to that abbey of monks where he had appointed to meet the damsel Elouise\nthe Fair, as aforetold.\n\nAnd now you shall hear how Sir Launcelot behaved at the tournament of King\nBagdemagus, if it please you to read that which herewith immediately\nfolloweth.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Launcelot and Elouise the Fair]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Sixth\n\n\n_How Sir Launcelot Took Part in the Tournament Between King Bagdemagus and\nthe King of North Wales, and How He Won that Battle for King Bagdemagus._\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot rode to find Elouise the Fair] Sir Launcelot\nrode by many highways and many byways at a very slow pace, stopping now and\nthen when it pleased him to do so, for he took great joy in being free in\nthe open air again. For the day was warm and that time the clouds were very\nthick, drifting in great abundance across the sky. And anon there would\nfall a sudden shower of rain, and anon the sun would shine forth again,\nvery warm and strong, so that all the world sparkled as with incredible\nmyriads of jewels. Then the cock crowed lustily because the shower was\npast, and another cock answered him far away, and all the world suddenly\nsmiled, and the water trickled everywhere, and the little hills clapped\ntheir hands for joy. So Sir Launcelot took great pleasure in the day and he\nwent his way at so easy a pace that it was night-time ere he reached that\nabbey of monks where he was to meet Elouise the Fair.\n\nNow that evening Elouise was sitting in a certain apartment of the abbey\noverlooking the court-yard, and a maiden was reading to her by the light of\nseveral waxen tapers from a book of painted pictures. And the maiden read\nin a voice that was both high and clear; meanwhile, Elouise sat very still\nand listened to what she read. Now while Elouise the Fair sat so, there was\nof a sudden the sound of a great horse coming on the stone pavement of the\ncourt below. Therewith Elouise arose hastily and ran to the window and\nlooked down into that court-yard. Then she saw who he was that came, and\nthat it was Sir Launcelot of the Lake. For the light was not yet altogether\ngone from the sky, which was all shining with gray, so that she could see\nwho it was who came there.\n\nThen Elouise gave great exclamation of joy, and clapped her hands. And she\nran down to the court where Sir Launcelot was, and several of her maidens\nwent with her.\n\n[Sidenote: Elouise the Fair gives welcome to Sir Launcelot] When she had\ncome to the court she gave great welcome to Sir Launcelot, and she summoned\nmany attendants and she bade them look to Sir Launcelot. So some of them\naided Sir Launcelot to dismount and some took his horse, and some brought\nhim up to a chamber that had been set apart for him, and there unarmed and\nserved him, and set him at his ease.\n\nThen Elouise sent to him a soft robe of purple cloth of velvet, lined with\nfur, and Sir Launcelot put it upon him and took great comfort in it.\n\nAfter that Sir Launcelot descended to where Elouise was, and he found that\na fair supper had been set for his refreshment. So he sat and ate, and\nElouise the Fair herself served him.\n\n[Sidenote: Elouise sends for King Bagdemagus] Meanwhile she had sent for\nher father, King Bagdemagus, who was at that time no great distance away,\nand a little after Sir Launcelot had finished his supper King Bagdemagus\ncame to that place, much wondering why Elouise had sent for him.\n\nWhen King Bagdemagus came, Elouise took him by the hand and led him to Sir\nLauncelot, and she said: \"Sire, here is a knight who, for my sake, is come\nto help you in this tournament upon Tuesday.\"\n\nNow King Bagdemagus had never before seen Sir Launcelot, so he knew not who\nthat knight was. Wherefore he said to him: \"Messire, I am much beholden to\nyou for coming to my aid in this battle. Now I pray you that you tell me\nyour name and what knight you are.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I am hight Launcelot, and am surnamed 'He of\nthe Lake.'\"\n\nNow when King Bagdemagus heard this he was astonished beyond measure,\nwherefore he cried out, \"This is wonderful, that you who are the very\nflower of knighthood should be here, and that you should come to aid me in\nmy battle!\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot talks with King Bagdemagus] \"Sire,\" said Sir\nLauncelot, \"I know not how much aid I may be to thee until that matter is\nproven. But of a surety I owe it to this damsel to do what I am able at her\nrequest, in return for all that she hath done for me to aid me in my time\nof great peril. So it is a very small repayment for me to aid thee, her\nfather, in thy time of difficulties. Wherefore if, by good hap, I may be of\nuse to thee in this battle which is nigh at hand, then I shall be glad\nbeyond measure that I have paid some part of that debt which I owe to this\nlady.\"\n\n\"Messire,\" said King Bagdemagus, \"I give thee grammercy for thy good will\nin this matter. I am sure that, with thy aid, I shall be successful in this\nbattle, and that it will always be most renowned in the history of chivalry\nbecause thou hast taken part in it.\"\n\nSo spake they with great courtesy to one another. Then, by and by, Sir\nLauncelot said: \"Sir, I pray you tell me who are those knights of King\nArthur's court who are upon the part of the King of North Wales? For I\nwould fain know against whom I am to do battle.\" To which King Bagdemagus\nsaid: \"Messire, those three knights of the Round Table are as\nfollows--there is Sir Mordred, nephew unto King Arthur, and there is Sir\nGalahantine, and there is Sir Mador de la Porte.\"\n\n\"Ha,\" quoth Sir Launcelot, \"these are three very good knights indeed, and I\nam not at all astonished that the King of North Wales should have had such\ngood fortune aforetime in that other tournament with you, seeing that he\nhad three such knights as they to do battle upon his side.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot arranges the order of battle with King\nBagdemagus] After this they fell into discourse as to the manner in which\nthey should do battle upon the morrow, and Sir Launcelot advised in this\nwise: \"Lord, let me take three knights of yours, such as you trust, and\nsuch as you hold to be the strongest knights of your party. Let these three\nknights paint their shields altogether white and I will paint mine white,\nand then no man will know who we are. For I would have it so that I should\nnot be known to be in this battle until I shall have approved myself in it.\nNow, when you have chosen those three knights, we four will take hiding in\nsome wood or glade nigh to the place of combat, and when you are most\nbusily engaged, and when you begin to be hard-pressed, then we will come\nforth and fall upon the flank of the party of the King of North Wales with\nintent to throw them into confusion. Then you will push your assault very\nhard, and I doubt not by the grace of God that we shall betwixt us be able\nto bear back their array in confusion.\"\n\nThis advice seemed very good to King Bagdemagus, and so he did as Sir\nLauncelot said. He chose him three very strong, worthy, honorable knights,\nand these made their shields white as Sir Launcelot directed.\n\nThus, all things being arranged as Sir Launcelot willed, it came to be the\neve before the battle. So a little after sunset Sir Launcelot and those\nthree knights whom King Bagdemagus had chosen rode over toward the place of\ntourney (which was some twelve miles from the abbey where the damsel\nElouise was lodged). There they found a little woodland of tall, leafy\ntrees fit for Sir Launcelot's purpose, and that wood stood to one side of\nthe meadow of battle and at about the distance of three furlongs from it.\nIn this little wood Sir Launcelot and the three knights-companion whom King\nBagdemagus had chosen laid themselves down upon the ground and wrapped,\neach man, his cloak about him. So they slept there until the morrow, when\nthe battle was ordained to be.\n\nNow there had been very great preparation made for this tournament for on\nthree sides of the meadow of battle scaffolds had been built and rows of\nseats had been placed. These were covered over with tapestries and hangings\nof divers colors--some of figured and some of plain weaving--so that the\ngreen and level meadow-land was hung all about with these gay and gaudy\ncolors.\n\nNow when the morning had come, the folk who came to witness that tournament\nbegan to assemble from all directions--lords and ladies of high degree,\nesquires and damsels of lesser rank, burghers and craftsmen with their\nwives, townspeople from the town, yeomen from the woodlands, and\nfreeholders from the farm crofts. With these came many knights of the two\nparties in contest, and with the knights came their esquires in attendance.\nNow these knights were all in full armor, shining very bright, and the\nesquires were clad in raiment of many textures and various colors, so that\nthey were very gay and debonair. So, with all this throng moving along the\nhighway toward the meadow of battle, it seemed as though the entire world\nwas alive with gay and moving figures.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot and his companions lie near the place of\ntournament] Now the place where Sir Launcelot and those three knights who\nwere with him lay hidden was not far from the highway, so, whence they lay,\nthey could see all that goodly procession of folk taking their way toward\nthe lists, and they could look down upon the meadow of battle, which, as\nhath been said, was not more than three furlongs distant, and they could\nsee the crowds of people of high and low degree taking their places upon\nthose seats according to their rank and station. And they could see how the\nknights-contestant arrayed themselves upon this side of the field and upon\nthat, and how the esquires and attendants hurried hither and thither,\nbusying themselves in making their lords ready for the encounter that was\nsoon to befall. Yea, all this could they see as plainly as though it lay\nupon the palm of a hand.\n\nSo they saw that about noontide all those who had come thither had taken\ntheir places, and that the field was clean, and that the two parties of\ncombat were arrayed in order for battle.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot perceived that the party of the King of North Wales was\nvery much greater than the party of King Bagdemagus; for while the party of\nthe King of North Wales had nigh eight score of helms, the party of King\nBagdemagus had hardly four score of helms. So Sir Launcelot perceived that\nthat party of King Bagdemagus would have much labor to do if it was to win\nin the battle.\n\n[Sidenote: How the battle began] Now, all being prepared, the marshal\nstood forth and blew upon his trumpet, and therewith those two parties of\nknights rushed the one against the other, each in so great a cloud of dust\nthat one could hardly see the knights in their passage. Therewith they met\nin the midst of the meadow of battle, with such a crash and uproar of\nsplintered lances as was terrible to hear.\n\nAnd for a while no man could see what was toward, so great was the dust and\nthe tumult. But by and by the dust raised itself a little and then Sir\nLauncelot perceived that the party of King Bagdemagus had been pushed back\nby that other party, as might have been supposed in such a case.\n\nSo Sir Launcelot looked upon the battle for some while and he saw that the\nparty of King Bagdemagus was pushed farther and farther back. Then by and\nby Sir Launcelot said to his knights-companion: \"Messires, methinks now is\nour time to enter this engagement.\"\n\nTherewith he and they rode forth out of that woods, and they rode down the\nhill and across the fields and so came into that meadow-of-battle.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot and his companions enter the battle] At that time\nthe party of the King of North Wales was so busily engaged in its assault\nupon the party of King Bagdemagus that very few of those knights engaged\nwere aware of those four knights coming, and those who were aware of them\nthought but very little of the coming of so small a number. So no one\ninterfered with their coming, wherefore they were able to bear down with\ngreat speed upon the flank of the party of the King of North Wales.\nTherewith they struck that flank with such force that both horses and\nhorsemen were overturned by their assault.\n\nIn that encounter Sir Launcelot carried a spear that was wonderfully strong\nand tough. With it he ran with great fierceness into the very thickest of\nthe press, and before he was checked he struck down five knights with that\none spear. And likewise those three knights that were with him did such\ngood service that all that flank of the party of the King of North Wales\nwas thrown into great confusion and wist not what to do for to guard\nthemselves against that fierce, furious onset.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot and his three companions bore back a little, and when\nthey got their distance they ran again into the press, and this time Sir\nLauncelot overthrew the King of North Wales himself, and that with such\nviolence that the bone of his thigh was broken, and he had to be carried\naway out of that field by his attendants. And in this second assault Sir\nLauncelot and the three knights who were with him overthrew eleven knights\nbesides the King of North Wales, wherefore all that part of the press began\nto break away from them and to seek some place where they could defend\nthemselves from such another assault.\n\nNow when the party of King Bagdemagus saw into what confusion the other\nparty were thrown by these four knights-champion, they began a very fierce\nand furious attack, and with such vehemence that in a little the party of\nthe King of North Wales began to bear back before them. So, what with those\nwho withdrew before Sir Launcelot's assault, and what with those who\nwithdrew from the assault of King Bagdemagus, there was a great deal of\nconfusion in the ranks of the party of the King of North Wales.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overthrows Sir Mordred] Now those three knights\nwho were of King Arthur's court perceived how Sir Launcelot and his\nknights-companion were throwing the ranks of the party of the King of North\nWales into confusion, and they knew that unless the onset of Sir Launcelot\nwas checked, the day would of a surety be lost unto them. Wherefore said\nSir Mador de la Porte: \"Yonder is a very strong and fierce-fighting knight;\nif we do not check his onset we will very likely be brought to shame in\nthis battle.\" \"Yea,\" said Sir Mordred, \"that is so. Now I will take it upon\nme to joust with that knight and to overthrow him.\" Upon that those other\ntwo knights bade him go and do as he said. So Sir Mordred made way to where\nSir Launcelot was, coming forward very fiercely and with great violence,\nand Sir Launcelot was aware of Sir Mordred's coming and made him ready for\nthat assault. So the two came together with terrible violence and Sir\nLauncelot struck Sir Mordred such a buffet that the breast-band of Sir\nMordred's saddle brake, and both the saddle and Sir Mordred flew over his\nhorse's tail. Therewith Sir Mordred fell upon his head and struck with such\nviolence upon the ground that his neck was nigh broken, and he lay\naltogether in a dead swoon and had to be carried out of the lists by his\nattendants.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overthrows Sir Mador] This saw Sir Mador de la\nPorte, and he cried out: \"Ha! see what hath befallen Sir Mordred!\" And\ntherewith he also bare down upon Sir Launcelot with all his might and main\nwith intent to overthrow him. And Sir Launcelot ran against him, and they\nstruck together so fiercely that it was terrible to behold. But the spear\nof Sir Mador de la Porte burst into pieces, whilst the spear of Sir\nLauncelot held, so that both Sir Mador and his horse were overthown, the\nhorse rolling upon the man. And in that encounter Sir Mador's shoulder went\nout of place, and he also had to be borne away by his attendants.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot strikes Sir Galahantine a sad blow] Then Sir\nGalahantine took a great spear from his esquire, who was nigh him, and he\nalso ran against Sir Launcelot with all his might; and Sir Launcelot met\nhim in full course and that onset was more terrible than either of the\nother two. For the spear of each knight was burst into splinters, even to\nthe butt thereof. Then each threw away the butt of his spear and drew out\nhis sword, and Sir Galahantine struck Sir Launcelot such a blow that the\nlegs of Sir Launcelot's horse trembled under him because of the weight of\nthat stroke. At this Sir Launcelot waxed wroth beyond measure and he rose\nin his stirrups and he smote Sir Galahantine such a buffet that the blood\nburst out from his nose and his ears, and all his senses so went away from\nhim that he might hardly behold the light of day because of the swimming of\nhis sight.\n\nTherewith Sir Galahantine's head hung down upon his breast and he had no\npower to guide his horse, wherefore his horse made way out of the press and\ngalloped off, bearing Sir Galahantine away, whether he would or no. And\nafter the horse had galloped a little distance Sir Galahantine could not\nany longer sit upon his saddle, but he fell off of his horse and rolled\nover upon the ground and had not strength to rise therefrom.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot catched another spear, great and strong, from the\nesquire who followed him, and before ever that spear broke he overthrew\nsixteen knights therewith. Wherefore all who beheld him were amazed and\nterrified at what he did.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot wins the battle for King Bagdemagus] By now the\nparty of the King of North Wales began to bear more and more aback and in a\nlittle they broke, and then the party of King Bagdemagus pursued them\nhither and thither, and those who did not surrender were overthrown so that\nit was not possible for them to make any new order of battle. Then that\nparty surrendered itself as conquered, one and all, and so King Bagdemagus\nwon that tournament with the greatest glory that it was possible for him to\nhave. For it had never been heard of before that a party of four-score\nknights should overcome in that way a party of eight-score knights, with\nthree knights of the Round Table to champion them. Nor would such a victory\nhave been possible only for what Sir Launcelot did in that battle.\n\nSo Sir Launcelot won that tournament for King Bagdemagus, and after the\nbattle was over and done King Bagdemagus came to Sir Launcelot and said to\nhim: \"Messire, thou hast brought to me the greatest glory this day that\never fell to my lot in all of my life. Now I prithee come with me and\nrefresh thyself with me, so that I may give thee fitting thanks for all\nthou hast done, and so that I may reward thee in such a way as is fit for a\nking to reward a knight-champion such as thou art.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot departs without reward] Unto this Sir Launcelot\nmade reply: \"Lord, I give you thanks for your courtesy, but I need no\nreward; for it is meet that I should have done what I could for the sake of\nthe demoiselle Elouise the Fair, seeing that she rescued me from the\nmischiefs that Queen Morgana had intent to do me.\"\n\nThen King Bagdemagus besought Sir Launcelot that he would tarry awhile and\nrest, but Sir Launcelot would not do so, but would be going upon his way\nwithout any tarrying. But he said to King Bagdemagus: \"I prithee greet your\ndaughter for me, and say to her that if ever she hath need of my services\nagain let her send to me, and I will come to her even if it be to the end\nof the earth. For I have not yet repaid her for what she hath done for me.\"\n\nTherewith Sir Launcelot went his way from that meadow of battle, and,\ncoming to the skirts of the forest he entered therein, and those who were\nthere at the meadow of battle did not see him any more.\n\nSo endeth the history of that famous tournament betwixt King Bagdemagus and\nthe King of North Wales.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Launcelot climbs to catch the lady's falcon]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Seventh\n\n\n_How Sir Launcelot Fell Into the Greatest Peril that Ever He Encountered in\nall His Life. Also How He Freed a Misfortunate Castle and Town From the\nGiants Who Held Them, and How He Released the Lord Thereof From a Dungeon._\n\nNow Sir Launcelot wandered errant for many days, meeting no adventure of\nany moment, but taking great joy in all that he beheld of the wide world\nabout him, and in that time he found lodging wheresoever he chanced to be\n(if not in house, then beneath the skies), and he endured all sorts of\nweather, both wet and dry.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot cometh to a fair valley with a castle] Upon a\ncertain day, in the prime of the morning, he came across a hilltop, and\nbeheld beneath him a valley, very fertile and well-tilled, with fields and\nmeadow-lands spread all over it like to a fair green carpet woven in divers\npatterns. And in the midst of the valley was a very large and noble castle,\nwith many towers, and tall, steep roofs, and clustering chimneys. So Sir\nLauncelot descended into that valley, and the road which he took ended in\nfront of the castle and under the shade of the tall gray walls thereof. But\nhe did not stop at that castle but went on by it.\n\nNow after Sir Launcelot had passed by that castle it seemed to him that he\nheard very delicate silver bells ringing sweetly in the air above him, and\nwhen he looked up he beheld that a falcon was flying over his head toward a\nhigh elm tree that stood at a little distance, and he wist that it was the\nbells upon the cap of the falcon that rang so sweetly. And Sir Launcelot\nbeheld that long lunes hung from the feet of the falcon as she flew,\nwherefore he was aware that the falcon had slipped her lunes and had flown\nfrom her owner.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot beholdeth a falcon entangled] So Sir Launcelot\nwatched the falcon, and he beheld that she lit in a tall elm tree, where\nshe took her perch and rested, balancing with her wings part spread. Then\nby and by she would have taken her flight again, but the lunes about her\nfeet had become entangled around the bough on which she sat, so that when\nshe would have flown she could not do so. Now Sir Launcelot was very sorry\nto see the falcon beating herself in that wise, straining to escape from\nwhere she was prisoner, but he knew not what to do to aid her, for the tree\nwas very high, and he was no good climber of trees.\n\nWhile he stood there watching that falcon he heard the portcullis of the\ncastle lifted, with a great noise, and the drawbridge let fall, and\ntherewith there came a lady riding out of the castle very rapidly upon a\nwhite mule, and she rode toward where Sir Launcelot watched the falcon upon\nthe tree. When that lady had come nigh to Sir Launcelot, she cried out to\nhim: \"Sir Knight, didst thou see a falcon fly this way?\" Sir Launcelot\nsaid: \"Yea, Lady, and there she hangs, caught by her lunes in yonder\nelm-tree.\"\n\nThen when that lady beheld how that her falcon hung there she smote her\nhands together, crying out: \"Alas, alas! what shall I do? That falcon is my\nlord's favorite hawk! While I was playing with her a while since, she\nslipped from me and took flight, and has sped as thou dost see. Now when my\nlord findeth that I have lost his hawk in that wise he will be very angry\nwith me, and will haply do me some grievous hurt.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady beseeches Sir Launcelot to get her the falcon again]\nQuoth Sir Launcelot: \"Lady, I am very sorry for you.\" \"Sir,\" she said, \"it\nboots nothing for you to be sorry for me unless you can aid me.\" \"How may I\naid you in this?\" said Sir Launcelot. \"Messire,\" quoth she, \"how otherwise\ncould you aid me than by climbing up into this tree for my hawk? For if you\naid me not in such a fashion, I know not what I shall do, for my lord hath\na very hot and violent temper, and he is not likely to brook having his\nfavorite hawk lost to him, as it is like to be.\"\n\nUpon this Sir Launcelot was put to a great pass and knew not what to do,\nfor he had no good mind to climb that tree. \"Lady,\" quoth he, \"I prithee\ntell me what is thy lord's name.\" \"Messire,\" she replied, \"he is hight Sir\nPhelot, and is a knight of the court of the King of North Wales.\"\n\n\"Well, Lady,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"thou dost put upon me a very sore task\nin this, for God knoweth I am no climber of trees. Yea, I would rather do\nbattle with twenty knights than to climb one such tree as this.\nNevertheless, I cannot find it in me to refuse the asking of any lady, if\nso be it lieth at all in my power to perform her will. Now if you will aid\nme to unarm myself, I will endeavor to climb this tree and get your hawk.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot climbs the tree] So the lady dismounted from her\nmule, and Sir Launcelot dismounted from his horse, and the lady aided Sir\nLauncelot to unarm himself. And when he had unarmed himself he took off all\nhis clothes saving only his hosen and his doublet. Then he climbed that\ntree, though with great labor and pain to himself, and with much dread lest\nhe should fall. So he, at last, reached the falcon where it was, and he\nloosened the lunes from where they were entangled about the branch, and he\nfreed the bird. Then he brake off a great piece of rotten bough of the tree\nand he tied the lunes of the falcon to it and he tossed the falcon down to\nwhere the lady was; and the lady ran with great joy and caught the falcon\nand loosed it from the piece of branch and tied the lunes to her wrist, so\nthat it could not escape again.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot began to descend the tree with as great labor and pain\nas he had climbed into it.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Phelot threatens Sir Launcelot's life] But he had not come\nvery far down when he perceived a knight who came riding very rapidly\ntoward that tree, and he saw that the knight was in full armor. When this\nknight came to the tree he drew rein and bespoke the lady who was there,\nthough Sir Launcelot could not hear what he said. So, after he had spoken\nfor a little, the knight dismounted from his horse and went to Sir\nLauncelot's shield and looked upon the face of it very carefully. Then\npresently he looked upward toward Sir Launcelot, and he said: \"Art thou Sir\nLauncelot of the Lake?\" And Sir Launcelot said: \"Yea.\" \"Very well,\" said\nthe knight, \"I am pleased beyond measure at that. For I am Sir Phelot, the\nlord of this castle, and the brother of that Sir Peris of the Forest\nSauvage, whom thou didst treat so shamefully after thou hadst overcome him\nin battle.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I treated him nowise differently from what he\ndeserved.\" \"No matter for that,\" said Sir Phelot, \"he was my brother, and\nthou didst put great despite and shame upon him. So now I will be revenged\nupon thee, for now I have thee where I would have thee, and I will slay\nthee as shamefully as thou didst put shame upon him. So say thy prayers\nwhere thou art, for thou shalt never go away from this place alive.\"\n\n\"Sir Knight,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I do not believe that thou wouldst\nreally assault a naked and harmless man, for it would certainly be a great\nshame to thee to do me a harm in that wise. For lo! thou art armed in full,\nand I am a naked man, and to slay me as I am would be both murder and\ntreason.\"\n\n\"No matter for that,\" said Sir Phelot; \"as for the shame of it, I take no\nthought of it. I tell thee thou shalt have no grace nor mercy from me.\nWherefore make thy peace with Heaven, for thine hour is come.\"\n\n\"Sir Knight,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I ask only one boon of thee; if thou art\nof a mind to take so much shame upon thee, as appears to be the case, let\nme not, at least, die like a felon without any weapon. Let me have my sword\nin my hand, even if I have no other defence. For if a knight must die, it\nis a shame for him to die without weapons. So hang my sword upon yonder\nbough, where I may reach it, and then thou mayst slay me.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Sir Phelot, \"I will not do that, for I know very well how\nwonderful is thy prowess. Wherefore I believe that even if thou wert\notherwise unarmed thou mightst overcome me if thou hadst thy sword. So I\nwill give thee no such chance, but will have my will of thee as thou art.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot is put to a sad pass to escape] Then Sir\nLauncelot was put to a great pass of anxiety, for he wist not what to do to\nescape from that danger in which he lay. Wherefore he looked all about him\nand above him and below him, and at last he beheld a great branch of the\nelm tree just above his head, very straight and tough. So he catched this\nbranch and broke it off from the tree and shaped it to a club of some sort.\nThen he came lower, and the knight waited to strike him with his sword,\nwhen he was low enough; but Sir Launcelot did not come low enough for that.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot perceived that his horse stood below him and a little to\none side, so of a sudden he ran out along the branch whereon he stood and\nhe leaped quickly down to the earth upon the farther side of his horse from\nwhere the knight stood.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overcomes Sir Phelot with a strange weapon] At\nthis Sir Phelot ran at him and lashed at him with his sword, thinking to\nslay him before he had recovered from his leap. But Sir Launcelot was\nquicker than he, for he recovered his feet and put away the blow of Sir\nPhelot with his club which he held. Then he ran in upon Sir Phelot under\nhis sword arm, and before he could use his sword he struck Sir Phelot with\nall his might upon the side of his head. And he struck him very quickly\nagain, and he struck him the third time, all in the space whilst one might\ncount two. And those blows he struck were so direful that Sir Phelot fell\ndown upon his knees, all stunned and bedazed, and the strength went out of\nhis thews because of faintness. Then Sir Launcelot took the sword out of\nthe hand of Sir Phelot and Sir Phelot did not have strength to deny him.\nAnd Sir Launcelot plucked off Sir Phelot's helm and catched him by the hair\nand dragged his neck forward so as to have ease to strike his head from off\nhis body.\n\nNow all this while the lady had been weeping and watching what befell. But\nwhen she saw the great danger Sir Phelot was in, she ran and clasped her\narms about him, and cried out in a very loud and piercing voice upon Sir\nLauncelot to spare Sir Phelot and to slay him not. But Sir Launcelot, still\nholding him by the hair of the head, said: \"Lady, I cannot spare him, for\nhe has treated me more treacherously than any other knight with whom I ever\nhad dealings.\" But the lady cried out all the more vehemently, \"Sir\nLauncelot, thou good knight, I beseech thee, of thy knighthood, to spare\nhim.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot spares Sir Phelot's life] \"Well,\" said Sir\nLauncelot, \"it hath yet to be said of me that I have denied anything that I\nwas able to grant unto any lady that hath asked it of me upon my\nknighthood. And yet I know not how to trust either of ye. For thou didst\nnot say one word in my behalf when I was in danger of being slain so\ntreacherously just now. As for this knight, I perceive that he is every\nwhit as great a traitor and a coward as was his brother Sir Peris of the\nSauvage Forest. So I will spare him, but I will not trust him, lest he turn\nagainst me ere I arm myself again. Wherefore give me hither the halter rein\nof your mule.\" So the lady gave Sir Launcelot the halter rein, weeping\namain as she did so. And Sir Launcelot took the halter rein and he tied the\narms of Sir Phelot behind him. Then he bade the lady of Sir Phelot to help\nhim arm himself from head to foot, and she did so, trembling a very great\ndeal. Then, when she had done so, quoth Sir Launcelot: \"Now I fear the\ntreachery of no man.\" Therewith he mounted his horse and rode away from\nthat place And he looked not behind him at all, but rode away as though he\nheld too much scorn of that knight and of that lady to give any more\nthought to them.\n\nSo after that Sir Launcelot travelled for a while through the green fields\nof that valley, till by and by he passed out of that valley, and came into\na forest through which he travelled for a very long time.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot cometh to a marish country] For it was about the\nslanting of the afternoon ere he came forth out of that forest and under\nthe open sky again. And when he came out of the forest he beheld before him\na country of perfectly level marish, very lush and green, with many ponds\nof water and sluggish streams bordered by rushes and sedge, and with\npollard willows standing in rows beside the waters. In the midst of this\nlevel plain of green (which was like to the surface of a table for\nflatness) there stood a noble castle, part built of brick and part of\nstone, and a town of no great size and a wall about the town. And this\ncastle and town stood upon an island surrounded by a lake of water, and a\nlong bridge, built upon stone buttresses, reached from the mainland to the\nisland. And this castle and town were a very long distance away, though\nthey appeared very clear and distinct to the sight across the level marish,\nlike, as it were, to a fine bit of very small and cunning carving.\n\nNow the way that Sir Launcelot travelled, led somewhat toward that town,\nwherefore he went along that way with intent to view the place more near\nby. So he conveyed by that road for some time without meeting any soul upon\nthe way. But at last he came of a sudden upon an archer hiding behind an\nosier tree with intent to shoot the water-fowl that came to a pond that was\nthere--for he had several such fowl hanging at his girdle. To him Sir\nLauncelot said: \"Good fellow, what town is that yonderway?\" \"Sir,\" said the\nyeoman, \"that is called the Town of the Marish because it stands in these\nFenlands. And that castle is called the Castle of the Fenlands for the same\nreason.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot talks with a yeoman] Quoth Sir Launcelot: \"What\nmanner of place is that? Is it a good place, or is it otherwise?\" \"Sir,\"\nsaid the archer, \"that place was one while a very good, happy place; for in\ntimes gone by there was a lord who dwelt there who was both just and noble,\nand kind to all folk, wherefore he was loved by all the people. But one\nnight there came two very grim and horrible giants thither from the Welsh\nMountains and these entered into the castle by treachery and made prisoner\nof the lord of the castle. Him they cast into the dungeon of the castle,\nwhere they held him prisoner as an hostage. For they threaten that if\nfriends of that lord's should send force against them to dispossess them,\nthey will slay him. As for any other rescue, there is no knight who dareth\nto go against them because of their terrible size, and their strength, and\ntheir dreadful, horrible countenances.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that is a pity and I am sorry for that noble\nlordling. Now, since there is no other single knight who dareth to\nundertake this adventure, I myself will go and encounter these giants.\"\n\n\"Nay, Sir Knight,\" said the yeoman, \"do not do so, for they are not like\nmortal men, but rather like monsters that are neither beast nor man.\nWherefore anyone who beholdeth them, feareth them.\"\n\n\"Grammercy for thy thought of me, good fellow,\" quoth Sir Launcelot, \"but\nif I shall refuse an adventure because I find it perilous, then I am not\nlike to undertake any adventure at all.\"\n\nTherewith he bade good den to that yeoman and rode upon his way, directing\nhis course toward that town at an easy pass.\n\nSo he came at last to the long bridge that reached from the land to the\nisland, and he saw that at the farther end of the bridge was the gateway of\nthe town and through the arch thereof he could perceive a street of the\ntown, and the houses upon either side of the street, and the people thereof\ncoming and going.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot crosses the bridge to the town] So he rode forth\nupon the bridge and at the noise of his coming (for the hoofs of his horse\nsounded like thunder upon the floor of the bridge) the people of the town\ncame running to see who it was that dared to come so boldly into their\ntown.\n\nThese, when Sir Launcelot came nigh, began to call to him on high, crying:\n\"Turn back, Sir Knight! Turn back! Else you will meet your death at this\nplace.\"\n\nBut Sir Launcelot would not turn back, but advanced very steadfastly upon\nhis way.\n\nNow somewhat nigh the farther end of that bridge there stood a little lodge\nof stone, built to shelter the warden of the bridge from stress of weather.\nWhen Sir Launcelot came nigh to this lodge there started suddenly out from\nit a great churl, above seven feet high, who bore in his hand a huge club,\nshod with iron and with great spikes of iron at the top. This churl ran to\nSir Launcelot and catched his horse by the bridle-rein and thrust it back\nupon its haunches, crying out in a great hoarse voice: \"Whither goest thou,\nSir Knight, for to cross this bridge?\" Sir Launcelot said: \"Let go my\nhorse's rein, Sir Churl.\" Whereunto the churl made answer: \"I will not let\ngo thy horse's rein, and thou shalt not cross this bridge.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot slays the huge churl] At this Sir Launcelot waxed\nvery angry, and he drew his sword and struck the churl a blow with the flat\nthereof upon the shoulder, so that he dropped the rein very quickly.\nTherewith that churl drew back and took his great iron-shod club in both\nhands and struck at Sir Launcelot a blow that would have split a millstone.\nBut Sir Launcelot put by the blow with his sword so that it did him no\nharm. But therewith he waxed so wroth that he ground his teeth together\nwith anger, and, rising in his stirrups, he lashed that churl so woeful a\nblow that he cleft through his iron cap and his head and his breast even to\nthe paps.\n\n[Sidenote: The folk warn Sir Launcelot] Now when the people of the town\nbeheld that terrible blow they lifted up their voices in a great outcry,\ncrying out: \"Turn back, Sir Knight! Turn back! For this is a very woful\nthing for thee that thou hast done!\" and some cried out: \"Thou hast killed\nthe giants' warder of the bridge!\" And others cried: \"Thou art a dead man\nunless thou make haste away from this.\" But to all this Sir Launcelot paid\nno heed, but wiped his sword and thrust it back into its sheath. Then he\nwent forward upon his way across the bridge as though nothing had befallen,\nand so came to the farther side. Then, without paying any heed to all the\npeople who were there, he rode straight to the castle and into the gate of\nthe castle and into the court-yard thereof.\n\nNow by this time all the castle was astir, and in great tumult, and many\npeople came running to the windows and looked down upon Sir Launcelot. And\nSir Launcelot sat his horse and looked all about him. So he perceived that\nbeyond the court-yard was a fair space of grass, very smooth and green,\nwell fitted for battle, wherefore he dismounted from his horse and tied it\nto a ring in the wall, and then he went to that green field and made him\nready for whatever might befall.\n\nMeantime all those people who were at the windows of the castle cried out\nto him, as the people of the town had done: \"Go away, Sir Knight! Go away\nwhilst there is still time for you to escape, or else you are a dead man!\"\n\nBut Sir Launcelot replied not, but stood there and waited very steadfastly.\nThen the great door of the castle hall opened, and there came forth\ntherefrom those two giants of whom he had heard tell.\n\n[Sidenote: Two giants attack Sir Launcelot] And in truth Sir Launcelot had\nnever beheld such horrible beings as they; for they were above ten feet\nhigh, and very huge of body and long of limb. And they were clad in armor\nof bull-hide with iron rings upon it, and each was armed with a great club,\nhuge and thick, and shod with iron, and studded with spikes. These came\ntoward Sir Launcelot swinging their clubs and laughing very hideously and\ngnashing their long white teeth, for they thought to make easy work of him.\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot slays the first giant] Then Sir Launcelot,\nseeing them coming thus, set his shield before him, and made ready for that\nassault with great calmness of demeanor. Then the giants rushed suddenly\nupon him and struck at him, the both of them together; for they deemed that\nby so doing the enemy could not escape both blows, but if one failed the\nother would slay him. But Sir Launcelot put aside the blow of one giant\nwith his sword and of the other with his shield, with marvellous dexterity.\nThereupon, ere they could recover themselves, he turned upon that giant who\nwas upon his left hand and he struck him so terrible a blow upon the\nshoulder that he cut through the armor and through the shoulder and\nhalf-way through the body, so that the head and one arm of the giant leaned\ntoward one way, and the other arm and the shoulder leaned toward the other\nway. Therewith the giant fell down upon the ground bellowing, so that it\nwas most terrible to hear; and in a little he had died where he had fallen.\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot slays the second giant] Now when the fellow\nof that giant beheld that dreadful, horrible stroke, he was so possessed\nwith terror that he stood for a while trembling and like one in a maze. But\nwhen he saw Sir Launcelot turn upon him with intent to make at him also, he\nlet fall his club and ran away with great and fearful outcry. Therewith he\nran toward the castle and would have entered therein, but those within the\ncastle had closed the doors and the gates against him, so that he could not\nescape in that way. So the giant ran around and around the court with great\noutcry, seeking for some escape from his pursuer, and Sir Launcelot ran\nafter him. And Sir Launcelot struck him several times with his sword, so\nthat at last, what with terror and pain and weariness, that giant stumbled\nand fell upon the ground. Therewith Sir Launcelot ran at him, and, ere he\ncould rise, he took his sword in both hands and smote off his head so that\nit rolled down upon the ground like a ball. Then Sir Launcelot stood there\npanting for breath, for he had raced very hard after the giant, and could\nhardly catch his breath again. As he stood so, many of those of the castle\nand many of those who were of the town came to him from all sides; and they\ncrowded around him and gave him great acclaim for ridding that place of\nthose giants.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot said to them: \"Where is your lord?\" Whereunto they made\nreply: \"Sir, he lieth in the dungeon of the castle under the ground chained\nto the walls thereof, and there he hath been for three years or more, and\nno one hath dared to bring him succor until you came hither.\" \"Go find\nhim,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"and set him free, and lose no time in doing so.\nAnd put him at all ease that you can.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot departs without refreshment] They say: \"Will you\nnot stay and see him, Messire, and receive his acknowledgements for what\nyou have done?\" But Sir Launcelot replied: \"Nay, not so.\" Then they say:\n\"Will you not have some refreshment after this battle?\" Whereunto Sir\nLauncelot said: \"I do not need such refreshment.\" Then they say: \"But will\nyou not rest a little?\" \"Nay,\" said Sir Launcelot: \"I may not tarry, for I\nhave far to go and several things to do, so that I do not care to stay.\" So\nhe loosed his horse from the ring in the wall, and mounted upon it and rode\naway from that castle and from that town and across the bridge whence he\nhad come. And all the people followed after him, giving him great acclaim.\n\nSo Sir Launcelot left the castle, not because he needed no rest, but\nbecause he could not endure to receive the thanks of those whom he\nbenefited. For though he loved to bring aid to the needy, yet he did not\nlove to receive their thanks and their praise. Wherefore, having freed the\nlord of that castle from that brood of giants, he was content therewith and\nwent his way without resting or waiting for thanks.\n\nFor so it was with those noble gallant knights of those days; that whilst\nthey would perform signal service for mankind, yet they were not pleased to\nreceive thanks or reward for the same, but took the utmost satisfaction,\nnot in what they gained by their acts, but in the doing of knightly deeds,\nfor they found all their reward in their deeds, because that thereby they\nmade the world in which they lived better; and because they made the glory\nof the King, whose servants they were, the more glorious.\n\nAnd I hold that such behavior upon the part of anyone makes him the peer of\nSir Launcelot or Sir Tristram or Sir Lamorack or Sir Percival; yea, of Sir\nGalahad himself. For it does not need either the accolade or the bath to\ncause a man to be a true knight of God's making; nor does it need that a\nmortal King should lay sword upon shoulder to constitute a man the fellow\nof such knightly company as that whose history I am herewith writing; it\nneeds only that he should prove himself at all times worthy in the\nperformance of his duty, and that he shall not consider the hope of reward,\nor of praise of others in the performance of that duty.\n\nSo look to it that in all your services you take example of the noble Sir\nLauncelot of the Lake, and that you do your uttermost with might and main,\nand that you therewith rest content with having done your best, maugre any\npraise. So you shall become a worthy fellow of Sir Launcelot and of his\nfellows.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Launcelot takes the armor of Sir Kay]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Eighth\n\n\n_How Sir Launcelot Rescued Sir Kay From a Perilous Pass. Also How He\nChanged Armor with Sir Kay and what Befell._\n\nOne day Sir Launcelot came at early nightfall to a goodly manor-house and\nthere he besought lodging for the night, and lodging was granted to him\nvery willingly.\n\n[Sidenote: The old gentlewoman makes Sir Launcelot welcome] Now there was\nno lord of that manor, but only an old gentlewoman of very good breeding\nand address. She made Sir Launcelot right welcome and gave such cheer as\nshe could, setting before him a very good supper, hot and savory, and a\ngreat beaker of humming mead wherewith to wash it down. Whilst Sir\nLauncelot ate, the gentlewoman inquired of him his name and he told her it\nwas Sir Launcelot of the Lake. \"Ha!\" quoth she, \"I never heard that name\nbefore, but it is a very good name.\"\n\nAt this Sir Launcelot laughed: \"I am glad,\" said he, \"that my name belikes\nthee. As for thy not having heard of it--well, I am a young knight as yet,\nhaving had but three years of service. Yet I have hopes that by and by it\nmay be better known than it is at this present.\"\n\n\"Thou sayest well,\" quoth she, \"for thou art very young yet, wherefore thou\nmayst not know what thou canst do till thou hast tried.\" And therewith Sir\nLauncelot laughed again, and said: \"Yea, that is very true.\"\n\nNow after Sir Launcelot had supped, his hostess showed him to the lodging\nshe had provided for him wherein to sleep, and the lodging was in a fair\ngarret over the gateway of the court. So Sir Launcelot went to his bed and,\nbeing weary with journeying, he presently fell into a deep and gentle\nsleep.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot is aroused from sleep] Now about the middle of\nthe night there fell of a sudden the noise of someone beating upon the gate\nand calling in a loud voice and demanding immediate admittance thereat.\nThis noise awoke Sir Launcelot, and he arose from his couch and went to the\nwindow and looked out to see who it was that shouted so loudly and made\nsuch uproar.\n\nThe moon was shining at that time, very bright and still, and by the light\nthereof Sir Launcelot beheld that there was a knight in full armor seated\nupon horseback without the gate, and that the knight beat upon the gate\nwith the pommel of his sword, and shouted that they should let him in.\n\nBut ere anyone could run to answer his call there came a great noise of\nhorses upon the highroad, and immediately after there appeared three\nknights riding very fiercely that way, and these three knights were plainly\npursuing that one knight. For, when they perceived him, they rode very\nviolently to where he was, and fell upon him fiercely, all three at one\ntime; wherefore, though that one knight defended himself as well as he\ncould, yet was he in a very sorry way, and altogether likely to be\noverborne. For those three surrounded him so close to the gate that he\ncould do little to shift himself away from their assaults.\n\nNow when Sir Launcelot beheld how those three knights attacked that one\nknight, he said to himself: \"Of a surety, yonder knight is in a very sorry\nway. I will do what I can to help him; for it is a shame to behold three\nknights attack one knight in that way. And if he be slain in this assault,\nmeseems I shall be a party to his death.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot goeth to the rescue of the knight assaulted]\nTherewith he ran and put his armor upon him, and made ready for battle.\nThen he drew the sheet from his bed, and he tied the sheet to the bar of\nthe window and by it he let himself quickly down to the ground not far from\nwhere those knights were doing battle. So being safely arrived in that way\nhe cried out in a very loud voice: \"Messires, leave that knight whom ye\nassail, and turn to me, for I have a mind to do battle with you myself.\"\n\nThen one of those knights, speaking very fiercely, said: \"Who are you, and\nwhat business have you here?\"\n\n\"It matters not who I am,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"but I will not have it that\nyou three shall attack that one without first having had to do with me.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said that knight who had spoken, \"you shall presently have\nyour will of that.\"\n\nTherewith he and his fellows immediately descended from their horses, and\ndrew their swords and came at Sir Launcelot upon three sides at once. Then\nSir Launcelot set his back against the gate and prepared to defend himself.\n\nTherewith that knight whom he would defend immediately got down from his\nhorse with intent to come to the aid of Sir Launcelot, but Sir Launcelot\nforbade him very fiercely, saying: \"Let be, Sir Knight, this is my quarrel,\nand you shall not meddle in it.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot does battle with three knights] Upon this, those\nthree knights rushed upon him very furiously, and they struck at him all at\nonce, smiting at him wherever they could and with all their might and main.\nSo Sir Launcelot had much ado to defend himself from their assault. But he\nmade shift that they should not all rush in upon him at once, and by and by\nhe found his chance with one of them. Whereupon he turned suddenly upon\nthat one, and suddenly he lashed so terrible a buffet at him that the\nknight fell down and lay as though he had been struck dead with the force\nthereof.\n\nThen, ere those other two had recovered themselves, he ran at a second and\nstruck him so fierce a blow that his wits left him, and he staggered like a\ndrunken man and ran around and around in a circle, not knowing whither he\nwent. Then he rushed upon the third and thrust him back with great\nviolence, and as he went back Sir Launcelot struck him, too, as he had\nstruck his companions and therewith that knight dropped his sword and fell\ndown upon his knees and had not power to raise himself up.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot ran to him and snatched off his helmet, and catched him\nby the hair with intent to cut off his head. But at that the fallen knight\nembraced Sir Launcelot about the knees, crying out: \"Spare my life!\"\n\n\"Why should I spare you?\" said Sir Launcelot. \"Sir,\" cried the knight, \"I\nbeseech you of your knighthood to spare me.\"\n\n\"What claim have you upon knighthood,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"who would\nattack a single knight, three men against one man?\"\n\nThen the other of those knights who had been staggered by Sir Launcelot's\nblow, but who had by now somewhat recovered himself, came and kneeled to\nSir Launcelot, and said: \"Sir, spare his life, for we all yield ourselves\nunto you, for certes, you are the greatest champion in all the world.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot was appeased, but he said: \"Nay, I will not take your\nyielding unto me. For as you three assaulted this single knight, so shall\nyou all three yield to him.\"\n\n\"Messire,\" said the knight who kneeled: \"I am very loth to yield us to that\nknight, for we chased him hither, and he fled from us, and we would have\novercome him had you not come to his aid.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I care nothing for all that, but only that you\ndo as I will. And if ye do not do it, then I must perforce slay your\ncompanions and you two. Wherefore you may take your choice.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The three knights must yield to the one knight] Then said that\nknight who kneeled: \"Messire, I see no other thing to do than to yield us\nas you would have, wherefore we submit ourselves unto this knight whom you\nhave rescued from us.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot turned to that knight to whom he had brought aid in that\nmatter, and he said: \"Sir Knight, these knights yield themselves unto you\nto do as you command them. Now I pray you of your courtesy to tell me your\nname and who you are.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said that knight, \"I am Sir Kay the Seneschal, and am King Arthur's\nfoster-brother, and a knight of the Round Table. I have been errant now for\nsome time in search of Sir Launcelot of the Lake. Now, I deem either that\nyou are Sir Launcelot, or else that you are the peer of Sir Launcelot.\"\n\n\"Thou art right, Sir Kay,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"and I am Sir Launcelot of\nthe Lake.\" So thereat they two made great joy over one another, and\nembraced one another as brothers-in-arms should do.\n\nThen Sir Kay told Sir Launcelot how it was with those three knights who had\nassailed him; that they were three brethren, and that he had overthrown the\nfourth brother in an adventure at arms and had hurt him very sorely\nthereby. So those three had been pursuing him for three days with intent to\ndo him a harm.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Kay taketh submission of the three knights] Now Sir Kay was\nvery loath to take submission of those three knights, but Sir Launcelot\nwould have it so and no other way. So Sir Kay consented to let it be as Sir\nLauncelot willed. Thereupon those three knights came and submitted\nthemselves to Sir Kay, and Sir Kay ordained that they should go to Camelot\nand lay their case before King Arthur, and that King Arthur should adjudge\ntheir case according to what he considered to be right and fitting.\n\nThen those three knights mounted upon their horses and rode away, and when\nthey had done so the gates of the manor were opened, and Sir Launcelot and\nSir Kay entered in. But when the old lady who was his hostess beheld Sir\nLauncelot come in, she was very greatly astonished, for she wist he was\nstill asleep in his bed-chamber. Wherefore she said: \"Sir, methought you\nwere in bed and asleep.\" \"So indeed I was,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"but when I\nsaw this knight in peril of his life against three knights, I leaped out of\nmy window and went to his aid.\" \"Well,\" said his hostess, \"meseems that you\nwill sometime be a very good knight, if you have so much courage whilst you\nare so young.\" And at that both Sir Launcelot and Sir Kay laughed a great\ndeal.\n\nThen the chatelaine set bread and wine before Sir Kay, and he ate and\nrefreshed himself, and thereafter he and Sir Launcelot went to that garret\nabove the gate, and there fell asleep with great ease of body.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot takes Sir Kay's armor] Now before the sun arose\nSir Launcelot awoke but Sir Kay still slept very soundly. Then Sir\nLauncelot beheld how Sir Kay slept, and he had a mind for a jest. So he\nclad himself in Sir Kay's armor altogether from head to foot, and he took\nSir Kay's shield and spear, and he left his armor and shield and spear for\nSir Kay to use. Then he went very softly from that room, and left Sir Kay\nstill sleeping. And he took Sir Kay's horse and mounted upon it and rode\naway; and all that while Sir Kay knew not what had befallen, but slept very\ndeeply.\n\nNow after a while Sir Kay awoke, and he found that Sir Launcelot was gone,\nand when he looked he found that his own armor was gone and that Sir\nLauncelot's armor was left. Then he wist what Sir Launcelot had done, and\nhe said: \"Ha! what a noble, courteous knight is the gentleman. For he hath\nleft me his armor for my protection, and whilst I wear it and carry his\nshield and ride his horse, it is not likely that anyone will assail me upon\nmy way. As for those who assail him, I do not believe that they will be\nlikely to find great pleasure in their battle.\"\n\nTherewith he arose and clad himself in Sir Launcelot's armor, and after he\nhad broken his fast he thanked his hostess for what she had given him, and\nrode upon his way with great content of spirit.\n\n(And it was as Sir Kay had said, for when he met other knights upon the\nroad, and when they beheld the figure upon his shield, they all said: \"It\nis not well to meddle with that knight, for that is Sir Launcelot.\" And so\nhe came to Camelot without having to do battle with any man.)\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot travels toward Camelot] As for Sir Launcelot,\nhe rode upon his way with great cheerfulness of spirit, taking no heed at\nall of any trouble in the world, but chanting to himself as he rode in the\npleasant weather. But ever he made his way toward Camelot, for he said: \"I\nwill return to Camelot for a little, and see how it fares with my friends\nat the court of the King.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot perceives three knights at feast] So by and by he\nentered into the country around about Camelot, which is a very smooth and\nfertile country, full of fair rivers and meadows with many cots and\nhamlets, and with fair hedge-bordered highways, wonderfully pleasant to\njourney in. So travelling he came to a very large meadow where were several\ngroves of trees standing here and there along by a river. And as he went\nthrough this meadow he saw before him a long bridge, and at the farther\nside of the bridge were three pavilions of silk of divers colors, which\npavilions had been cast in the shade of a grove of beech-trees. In front of\neach pavilion stood a great spear thrust in the earth, and from the spear\nhung the shield of the knight to whom the pavilion belonged. These shields\nSir Launcelot read very easily, and so knew the knights who were there. To\nwit: that they were Sir Gunther, Sir Gylmere, and Sir Raynold, who were\nthree brothers of the Court of King Arthur. As Sir Launcelot passed their\npavilions, he saw that the three knights sat at feast in the midmost\npavilion of the three, and that a number of esquires and pages waited upon\nthem and served them, for those knights were of very high estate, and so\nthey were established as high lords should be.\n\n[Sidenote: The three knights bid Sir Launcelot come to feast with them]\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overthrows Sir Gunther] Now when those knights\nperceived Sir Launcelot they thought it was Sir Kay because of the armor he\nwore, and Sir Gunther, who was the eldest of the three brothers, cried out:\n\"Come hither, Sir Kay, and eat with us!\" But to this Sir Launcelot made no\nreply, but rode on his way. Then said Sir Gunther: \"Meseems Sir Kay hath\ngrown very proud this morning. Now I will go and bring him back with me, or\nelse I will bring down his pride to earth.\" So he made haste and donned his\nhelmet and ran and took his shield and his spear, and mounted his horse and\nrode after Sir Launcelot at a hard gallop. As he drew nigh to Sir Launcelot\nhe cried out: \"Stay, Sir Knight! Turn again, and go with me!\" \"Why should I\ngo with you?\" said Sir Launcelot. Quoth Sir Gunther: \"Because you must\neither return with me or do battle with me.\" \"Well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I\nwould rather do battle than return against my will.\" And at that Sir\nGunther was astonished, for Sir Kay was not wont to be so ready for a\nbattle. So Sir Launcelot set his shield and spear and took his stand, and\nSir Gunther took his stand. Then, when they were in all ways prepared, each\nset spur to his horse and rushed together with terrible speed. So each\nknight struck the other in the midst of his shield, but the onset of Sir\nLauncelot was so terrible that it was not to be withstood, wherefore both\nSir Gunther and his horse were overthrown in such a cloud of dust that\nnothing at all was to be seen of them until that cloud lifted.\n\nAt this both Sir Raynold and Sir Gylmere were astonished beyond measure,\nfor Sir Gunther was reckoned to be a much better knight than Sir Kay,\nwherefore they wist not how it was that Sir Kay should have overthrown him\nin that fashion.\n\nSo straightway Sir Gylmere, who was the second of those brothers, called\nout to Sir Launcelot to tarry and do battle. \"Very well,\" said Sir\nLauncelot, \"if I cannot escape thee I must needs do battle. Only make\nhaste, for I would fain be going upon my way.\"\n\nSo Sir Gylmere donned his helm in haste and ran and took his shield and\nspear and mounted upon his horse. So when he had made himself ready in all\nways he rushed upon Sir Launcelot with all his might and Sir Launcelot\nrushed against him.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overthrows Sir Gylmere] In that encounter each\nknight struck the other in the midst of his shield, and the spear of Sir\nGylmere burst into pieces, but Sir Launcelot's spear held, so the\nbreast-strap of Sir Gylmere's saddle bursting, both saddle and knight were\nswept entirely off the horse and to the earth, where Sir Gylmere lay\naltogether stunned.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot wins from Sir Raynold] Then Sir Raynold came\nagainst Sir Launcelot in like manner as the others had done, and in that\nencounter Sir Launcelot overthrew both horse and man so that, had not Sir\nRaynold voided his horse, he would likely have been very sadly hurt.\n\nThen Sir Raynold drew his sword and cried out in a loud voice: \"Come, Sir\nKnight, and do me battle afoot!\" But Sir Launcelot said: \"Why will you have\nit so, Sir Knight? I have no such quarrel with you as to do battle with\nswords.\" \"Ha!\" said Sir Raynold, \"you shall fight with me. For though you\nwear Sir Kay's armor, I wot very well that you are not Sir Kay, but a great\ndeal bigger man than ever Sir Kay is like to be.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I will not do any more battle with you.\" And\ntherewith he drew rein and rode away, leaving Sir Raynold standing very\nangry in the middle of the highway.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot meets four noble knights] After that Sir\nLauncelot rode very easily at a quiet gait, with no great thought whither\nhe rode, until after a while he came to a place where a road went across a\nlevel field with two rows of tall poplar trees, one upon either side of the\nhighway. Then Sir Launcelot perceived where, beneath the shade of these\npoplar trees, were four knights standing each by his horse. And these four\nknights were conversing very pleasantly together. Now as Sir Launcelot drew\nnigh he perceived that those were four very famous noble knights of the\nRound Table; to wit: one of those knights was his own brother, Sir Ector de\nMaris, another was Sir Gawain, another was Sir Ewain, and the fourth was\nSir Sagramore le Desirous.\n\nNow as Sir Launcelot drew nigh Sir Gawain said: \"Look, yonder cometh Sir\nKay the Seneschal.\" Unto this Sir Sagramore le Desirous said: \"Yea, this is\nhe; now bide you here for a little while, and I will go and take a fall of\nhim.\"\n\nSo straightway he mounted upon his horse, and he rode toward Sir Launcelot,\nand he cried out: \"Stay, Sir Knight, you cannot go farther until you have\nhad to do with me.\" \"What would you have of me?\" quoth Sir Launcelot.\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Sagramore, \"I will have a fall of you.\" \"Well,\" said Sir\nLauncelot, \"I suppose I must pleasure you, since it cannot be otherwise.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overthrows Sir Sagramore] Therewith he dressed\nhis shield and his spear and Sir Sagramore dressed his shield and his\nspear, and when they were in all ways prepared they ran together at full\ntilt. In that encounter Sir Sagramore's spear broke, but Sir Launcelot\nstruck so powerful a blow that he overthrew both horse and man into a ditch\nof water that was near-by.\n\nThen Sir Ector de Maris said: \"Ha, surely some very ill chance has befallen\nSir Sagramore for to be overthrown by Sir Kay. Now I will go and have ado\nwith him, for if the matter rests here there will be no living at court\nwith the jests which will be made upon us.\"\n\nSo he took horse and rode to where Sir Launcelot was, and he went at a very\nfast gallop. When he had come near to Sir Launcelot he cried out: \"Have at\nthee, Sir Kay, for it is my turn next!\" \"Why should I have at thee?\" said\nSir Launcelot, \"I have done thee no harm.\" \"No matter,\" said Sir Ector,\n\"you can go no farther until you have had to do with me.\" \"Well,\" said Sir\nLauncelot, \"if that is so, the sooner I have to do with thee, the sooner\nshall I be able to go upon my way.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot overthrows Sir Ector] Therewith each knight made\nhimself ready and when they were in all ways prepared they came together\nwith such force that Sir Launcelot's spear went through Sir Ector's shield\nand smote him upon the shoulder, and Sir Ector was thrown down upon the\nground with such violence that he lay where he had fallen, without power to\nmove.\n\nThen said Sir Ewain to Sir Gawain where they stood together: \"That is the\nmost wonderful thing that ever I beheld, for never did I think to behold\nSir Kay bear himself in battle in such a fashion as that. Now bide thee\nhere and let me have a try at him.\" Therewith Sir Ewain mounted his horse\nand rode at Sir Launcelot, and there were no words spoken this time, but\neach knight immediately took his stand to do battle. Then they ran their\nhorses together, and Sir Launcelot gave Sir Ewain such a buffet that he was\nastonished, and for a little he knew not where he was, for his spear fell\ndown out of his hand, and he bore his shield so low that Sir Launcelot\nmight have slain him where he stood if he had been minded to do so.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Ewain yields to Sir Launcelot] Then Sir Launcelot said:\n\"Sir Knight, I bid thee yield to me.\" And Sir Ewain said: \"I yield me. For\nI do not believe that thou art Sir Kay but a bigger man than he shall ever\nbe. Wherefore I yield me.\" \"Then that is well,\" said Sir Launcelot. \"Now\nstand thou a little aside where thou mayst bring succor unto these other\ntwo knights, for I see that Sir Gawain has a mind to tilt with me.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Gawain fails with Sir Launcelot] And it was as Sir\nLauncelot said, for Sir Gawain also had mounted his horse and had made\nhimself ready for that encounter. So Sir Gawain and Sir Launcelot took\nstand at such place as suited them. Then each knight set spurs to his horse\nand rushed together like thunder, and each knight smote the other knight in\nthe midst of his shield; and in that encounter the spear of Sir Gawain\nbrake in twain but the spear of Sir Launcelot held, and therewith he gave\nSir Gawain such a buffet that Sir Gawain's horse reared up into the air,\nand it was with much ado that he was able to void his saddle ere his horse\nfell over backward. For if he had not leaped to earth the horse would have\nfallen upon him.\n\nThen Sir Gawain drew his sword and cried very fiercely: \"Come down and\nfight me, Sir Knight! For thou art not Sir Kay!\"\n\n\"Nay, I will not fight thee that way,\" said Sir Launcelot, and therewith he\npassed on his way without tarrying further.\n\nBut he laughed to himself behind his helmet as he rode, and he said: \"God\ngive Sir Kay joy of such a spear as this, for I believe there came never so\ngood a spear as this into my hand. For with it I have overthrown seven\nfamous knights in this hour.\"\n\nAs for those four knights of the Round Table, they comforted one another as\nbest they could, for they knew not what to think of that which had befallen\nthem. Only Sir Ector said: \"That was never Sir Kay who served us in this\nwise, but such a man as is better than ten Sir Kays, or twice ten Sir Kays,\nfor the matter of that.\"\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Launcelot returned to Camelot] Now Sir Launcelot came\nto Camelot about eventide, what time King Arthur and his court were\nassembled at their supper. Then there was great joy when news was brought\nof his coming and they brought him in to the court and set him beside the\nKing and the Lady Guinevere all armed as he was. Then King Arthur said:\n\"Sir Launcelot, how is it with thee?\" and Sir Launcelot said: \"It is well.\"\nThen King Arthur said: \"Tell us what hath befallen thee.\" And Sir Launcelot\ntold all that had happened in that month since he had left court. And all\nthey who were there listened, and were much astonished.\n\nBut when Sir Launcelot told how he had encountered those seven knights, in\nthe armor of Sir Kay, all laughed beyond measure excepting those of the\nseven who were there, for they took no very good grace to be laughed at in\nthat wise.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSo now I hope I have made you acquainted with Sir Launcelot of the Lake,\nwho was the greatest knight in the world. For not only have I told you how\nhe was created a knight at the hands of King Arthur, but I have also led\nyou errant along with him, so that you might see for yourself how he\nadventured his life for other folk and what a noble and generous gentleman\nhe was; and how pitiful to the weak and suffering, and how terrible to the\nevil-doer. But now I shall have to leave him for a while (but after a while\nin another book that shall follow this, I shall return to him to tell you a\ngreat many things concerning other adventures of his), for meantime it is\nnecessary that I should recount the history of another knight, who was held\nby many to be nearly as excellent a knight as Sir Launcelot was himself.\n\n\n\n\nCONCLUSION\n\n_Here endeth the story of Sir Launcelot. That which followeth is the story\nof Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, who was knit with Sir Launcelot into such\nclose ties of friendship that if they had been brothers of the same blood,\nwith the same father and mother, they could not have loved one another more\nthan they did.\n\nFor indeed it would not be possible to tell any history of Sir Launcelot of\nthe Lake without telling that of Sir Tristram of Lyonesse as well, for as\nthe web of a fair fabric is woven in with the woof thereof, so were the\nlives of Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristram woven closely together.\n\nWherefore you shall now hear tell of the goodly adventures of Sir Tristram\nof Lyonesse; and God grant that you may have the same joy in reading\nthereof that I shall have in telling of them to you._\n\n\n\n\nThe Book of Sir Tristram\n\n[Illustration: Sir Tristram of Lyonesse]\n\n\n\n\nPrologue.\n\nThere was a certain kingdom called Lyonesse, and the King of that country\nwas hight Meliadus, and the Queen thereof who was hight the Lady Elizabeth,\nwas sister to King Mark of Cornwall.\n\nIn the country of Lyonesse, there was a very beautiful lady, who was a\ncunning and wicked sorceress. This lady took great love for King Meliadus,\nwho was of an exceedingly noble appearance, and she meditated continually\nhow she might bring him to her castle so as to have him near her.\n\n[Sidenote: King Meliadus rides a-hunting] Now King Meliadus was a very\nfamous huntsman, and he loved the chase above all things in the world,\nexcepting the joy he took in the love of his Queen, the Lady Elizabeth. So,\nupon a certain day, in the late autumn season he was minded to go forth\na-hunting, although the day was very cold and bleak.\n\nAbout the prime of the day the hounds started, of a sudden, a very\nwonderful stag. For it was white and its horns were gilded very bright,\nshining like pure gold, so that the creature itself appeared like a living\nmiracle in the forest. When this stag broke cover, the hounds immediately\nset chase to it with a great outcry of yelling, as though they were\nsuddenly gone frantic, and when the King beheld the creature, he also was\nimmediately seized as with a great fury for chasing it. For, beholding it,\nhe shouted aloud and drove spurs into his horse, and rushed away at such a\npass that his court was, in a little while, left altogether behind him, and\nhe and the chase were entirely alone in the forest.\n\n[Sidenote: King Meliadus chases the stag] The stag, with the hounds close\nbehind it, ran at a great rate through the passes of the woodlands, and\nKing Meliadus pursued it with might and main until the chase burst out of\nthe forest into an open plain beyond the woodland. Then King Meliadus\nbeheld that in the midst of the plain was a considerable lake of water; and\nthat in the midst of the water was an island; and that upon the island was\na very tall and stately castle. Toward this castle the stag ran with great\nspeed, and so, coming to the lake, it leaped into the water and swam across\nto the island--and there was a thin sheet of clear ice upon the water close\nto either bank.\n\nBut when the hounds that pursued the stag came to that frozen water, they\nstinted their pursuit and stood whimpering upon the brink, for the ice and\nthe water repelled them. But King Meliadus made no such pause, but\nimmediately leaped off from his horse, and plunged into the water and swam\nacross in pursuit of the stag. And when he reached the other side, he\nchased the stag afoot with great speed, and therewith the stag ran to the\ncastle and into the court-yard thereof, and King Meliadus ran after it.\nThen, immediately he had entered in, the gates of the castle were shut and\nKing Meliadus was a prisoner.\n\n[Sidenote: King Meliadus is made prisoner at an enchanted castle] (Now you\nare to know that that castle was the abode of the beautiful enchantress\nafore spoken of, and you are to know that she had sent that enchanted stag\nto beguile King Meliadus to her court, and so she made King Meliadus her\ncaptive. Further, it is to be told that when she had him there within her\ncastle, she wove a web of enchantment all about him so that he forgot the\nLady Elizabeth and his court and his kingdom and thought of nothing but\nthat beautiful sorceress who had thus beguiled him into her power.)\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady Elizabeth grieves to distraction] Now, when those who\nwere with the King returned to the castle of Lyonesse without him, and when\nthe King did not return that day nor the next day nor at any time, the Lady\nElizabeth grew more and more distracted in her anxiety because of him. And\nwhen a fortnight had gone by and still there was no news of the King, her\ngrief and apprehension became so great that she turned distracted and they\nhad to set watch and ward upon her lest she do herself a harm in her\nmadness.\n\nSo for a long time they kept her within the castle; but upon a certain day\nshe broke away from her keepers and ran out from the castle and into the\nforest ere those in attendance upon her knew she had gone. Only one\ngentlewoman saw her, and she called upon a young page to follow her, and\nthereupon ran after the Queen whither she went, with intent to bring her\nback again.\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady Elizabeth escapes into the forest] But the Lady\nElizabeth ran very deep into the forest, and the gentlewoman and the page\nran after her; and the Queen thought that she was going to find her lord in\nthe forest. So she ran very rapidly for a great distance, until by and by\nshe waxed faint with weariness from running and sank down upon the ground;\nand there they that followed her found her lying. And they found that the\nQueen was in a great passion of pain and sick to death. For the day was\nvery wintry, with a fine powder of snow all over the ground, so that the\ncold of the weather pierced through the garments of the Lady Elizabeth and\nentered into her body and chilled her to the heart.\n\nNow the gentlewoman, seeing how it was with the Queen, called the page to\nher and said: \"Make haste! Go back to the castle of Lyonesse, and bring\nsome of the knights of the castle with all speed, else the Queen will die\nat this place.\" And upon that the page ran off with great speed to do her\nbidding and the Queen was left alone with her gentlewoman.\n\nThen the gentlewoman said, \"Lady, what cheer?\" And the Queen said, \"Alas, I\nam sick to death.\" The gentlewoman said, \"Lady, cannot you bear up a little\nuntil help cometh?\" Thereupon the Lady Elizabeth fell to weeping very\npiteously, and said, \"Nay, I cannot bear up any longer, for the cold hath\nentered into my heart.\" (Yea, even at that time death was upon her because\nof the cold at her heart.)\n\nThen by and by in the midst of her tears and in very sore travail a\nman-child was born to the Queen, and when that came to pass a great peace\nfell suddenly upon her.\n\n[Sidenote: How Tristram is born in the forest] Then she said, speaking to\nthe nurse like one in great weariness, \"What child is it that I have given\nunto the world?\" The nurse said, \"It is a man-child.\" The Queen said to\nher, \"Hold him up until I see him.\" Thereupon the nurse held the child up\nand the Queen looked at him, though she could hardly see him because it was\nas though a mist lay upon her eyes which she could not clear away from her\nsight; for at that time she was drawing deep draughts of death. Then, when\nshe had seen the child and had beheld that he was very strong and lusty and\nexceedingly comely, she said: \"Behold, this is my child, born in the midst\nof sore travail and great sorrow; wherefore his name shall be called\nTristram because he hath caused so many tears to be shed.\"\n\nThen in a little while the Lady died, and the gentlewoman stood weeping\nbeside her, making great outcry in that cold and lonely forest.\n\nAnon there came those knights who were sent from the castle to find the\nQueen; and when they came to that place, they beheld that she lay upon the\nground all cold and white like to a statue of marble stone. So they lifted\nher up and bare her away upon a litter, and the gentlewoman followed\nweeping and wailing in great measure, and bearing the child wrapped in a\nmantle.\n\nSo Tristram was born in that wise, and so his name was given to him because\nof the tears that were shed at his birth.\n\nAnd now it is to be told how King Meliadus returned from that castle of\nenchantment where he was held prisoner.\n\n[Sidenote: King Meliadus is released from durance] At this time Merlin was\nstill living in the world, for Vivien had not yet bewitched him, as hath\nbeen told in the Book of King Arthur. So by and by it came to pass that he\ndiscovered where King Meliadus was imprisoned and how it fared with him in\nthe castle of that enchantress. So he made greater spells than those that\nenmeshed King Meliadus, and he brought King Meliadus back into his memory\nof the Queen and his kingdom. Then straightway the King broke out from the\ncastle of the enchantress and returned to his kingdom. But when he came\nthere it was to find everything in great sorrow and dole; for the Lady\nElizabeth was no longer upon this earth to bring joy to the heart of the\nKing. So for a long while after his return King Meliadus lay altogether\nstricken down with the grief of that bereavement.\n\nHere followeth the story of Tristram, how he passed his youth, and how he\nbecame a knight of Cornwall of King Mark's making.\n\n\n\n\nPART I\n\n\nThe Story of Sir Tristram and the Lady Belle Isoult\n\n_Here followeth the story of Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, who, with Sir\nLauncelot of the Lake, was deemed to be one of the two most worthy and\nperfect knights champion of his day.\n\nLikewise herein shall be told the story of the Lady Belle Isoult, who next\nto Queen Guinevere, was reckoned to be the most fair, gentle lady in all of\nthe world._\n\n[Illustration: Tristram succors the Lady Moeya]\n\n\n\n\nChapter First\n\n\n_How the new Queen of Lyonesse sought Tristram's life; how he went to\nFrance, and how he returned again to Lyonesse and was received with love at\nthat place._\n\nSo King Meliadus grieved very bitterly for the Lady Elizabeth for the space\nof seven years, and in that time he took but little pleasure in life, and\nstill less pleasure in that son who had been born to him in that wise. Then\none day a certain counsellor who was in great favor with the King came to\nhim and said: \"Lord, it is not fitting that you should live in this wise\nand without a mate; for you should have a queen, and you should have other\nchildren besides Tristram, else all the fate of this kingdom shall depend\nupon the life of that one small child.\"\n\n[Sidenote: King Meliadus taketh the Lady Moeya to second wife] And King\nMeliadus took this counsel to heart, and after a while he said: \"What you\ntell me is true, and so I shall take another Queen, even though it is not\nin me to love any other woman in all of the world but that dear one who is\ndead and gone.\" So a while after that he took to wife the Lady Moeya, who\nwas the daughter of King Howell of Britain.\n\nNow Queen Moeya had been married to an Earl of Britain, and by him she had\na son who was about the age of Tristram. So she brought this son to\nLyonesse with her, and he and Tristram were very good companions.\n\nBut the Lady Moeya took great hatred of Tristram, for she said in her\nheart: \"Except for this Tristram, mayhap my son might be King and overlord\nof this land.\" And these thoughts brooded with her, so that after a while\nshe began to meditate how she might make away with Tristram so that her own\nson might come into his inheritance.\n\nNow at that time Tristram was about thirteen years of age and very large\nand robust of form and of extraordinary strength of body and beauty of\ncountenance. But the son of Queen Moeya was not of such a sort, so the more\nbeautiful and noble Tristram was the more the Queen hated him. So one day\nshe called to her a very cunning chemist and she said to him: \"Give me a\ndrink of such and such a sort, so that he who drinks thereof shall\ncertainly die, maugre help of any kind.\" And the chemist gave her what she\ndesired, and it was in a phial and was of a golden color.\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady Moeya devises mischief against Tristram] Now Tristram\nand the son of the Lady Moeya were wont to play ball in a certain court of\nthe castle, and when they would play there they would wax all of a heat\nwith their sport. This the Lady Moeya was well aware of; so one day she\ntook that phial of poison and she poured a part of it into a chalice and\nshe filled the chalice with clear water and she set the chalice upon a\nbench where those two would play at ball. For she said to herself: \"When\nthey grow warm with their play, Tristram will certainly drink of this water\nto quench his thirst, and then my son will maybe enter into his\ninheritance.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The son of the Queen drinks of the poison] So the two youths\nplayed very fiercely at their game, and they waxed exceedingly hot and\npresently were both very violently athirst. Then Tristram said, \"I would I\nhad somewhat to drink,\" and his stepbrother said, \"Look, yonder is a\nchalice of water; drink! and when thou hast quenched thy thirst, then I\nwill drink also.\" But Tristram said: \"Nay, brother, drink thou first, for\nthou art more athirst than I.\" Then at first the son of the Lady Moeya\nwould not have it so, but would have Tristram drink; but afterward he did\nas Tristram bade him, and, taking the chalice in both hands, he drank\nfreely of that poison which his own mother had prepared. Then when he had\ndrunk his fill, Tristram took the chalice and would have drunk too; but the\nother said, \"Stay, Tristram, there is great bitterness in that chalice\";\nand then he said, \"Methinks I feel a very bitter pang within my vitals,\"\nand then he cried out, \"Woe is me! I am in great pain!\" Therewith he fell\ndown upon the ground and lay there in a great passion of agony. Then\nTristram cried aloud for help in a piercing voice; but when help came\nthither it was too late, for the son of the Lady Moeya was dead.\n\nThen the Lady Moeva was in great torment of soul, and beat her breast and\ntore her hair and King Meliadus had much ado for to comfort her. And after\nthis she hated Tristram worse than ever before, for she would say to\nherself: \"Except for this Tristram, my own son would yet be alive!\"\n\nSo she brooded upon these things until she could not rest, whether by day\nor night. Then one day she took the rest of the poison that was in the\nphial and poured it into a goblet of yellow wine. This goblet she gave to\none of her pages, saying: \"Take this to Tristram, and offer it to him when\nI shall tell you to do so!\"\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady Moeya seeks Tristram's life a second time] Therewith\nshe went down to the hall where Tristram was, and she said, \"Tristram, let\nthere be peace betwixt us.\" And Tristram said: \"Lady, that meets my wishes,\nfor I have never had in my heart aught but loving-kindness toward you, and\nso I would have it in your heart toward me.\" With this the page came in the\nhall with that goblet of yellow wine. Then the Lady Moeya took the goblet\nand said: \"Take this cup, and drink of the wine that is in it, and so there\nshall be peace betwixt us forever.\" And as she said that she looked very\nstrangely upon Tristram, but Tristram was altogether innocent of any evil\nagainst him. So he reached out his hand to take the cup which the page\nbrought to him.\n\nNow at that moment King Meliadus came into the hall fresh from the chase,\nand he was much heated and greatly athirst, wherefore, when he saw that cup\nof wine he said: \"Stay, Tristram, let me drink, for I am greatly athirst.\nAfter I have quenched my thirst, then thou shalt drink.\"\n\nTherewith he took the goblet of wine and made to lift it to his lips. But\nat that the Lady Moeya cried out, in a very loud and piercing voice, \"Do\nnot drink of that wine!\" The King said, \"Why should I not drink of it?\" \"No\nmatter,\" said the Lady Moeya, \"thou shalt not drink of it, for there is\ndeath in it.\"\n\nTherewith she ran to the King and catched him by the hand, and she plucked\naway the goblet so that the wine was spilled out of it upon the ground.\n\n[Sidenote: King Meliadus threatens to slay the Queen] Then King Meliadus\ngazed at the Lady Moeya, and he thought of many things in very little time.\nThereupon he seized her by the hair and dragged her forward, so that she\nfell down upon her hands and knees to the pavement of the hall. And King\nMeliadus drew his great sword so that it flashed like lightning, and he\ncried: \"Tell me what thou hast done, and tell me quickly, or thou shalt not\nbe able to tell me at all!\" Then the Lady Moeya clutched King Meliadus\nabout the thighs, and she cried out: \"Do not slay me with thine own hand,\nor else my blood will stain thee with dishonor! I will tell thee all, and\nthen thou mayst deal with me according to the law, for indeed I am not fit\nto live.\" So therewithal the Lady Moeya confessed everything to the King.\n\nThen King Meliadus shouted aloud and called the attendants and said: \"Take\nthis woman and cast her into prison, and see that no harm befall her there;\nfor the lords of this country shall adjudge her, and not I.\" And therewith\nhe turned away and left her.\n\nAnd thereafter, in due season, the Lady Moeya was brought to trial and was\ncondemned to be burned at the stake.\n\n[Sidenote: Tristram begs mercy for the Queen] Now when the day came that\nshe was to be burnt, Tristram was very sorry for her. So when he beheld her\ntied fast to the stake he came to where King Meliadus was and he kneeled\nbefore him, and he said, \"Father, I crave a boon of thee.\" Thereupon King\nMeliadus looked upon Tristram, and he loved him very tenderly and he said:\n\"My son, ask what thou wilt, and it shall be thine.\" Then Tristram said:\n\"Father, I pray thee, spare the life of this lady, for methinks she hath\nrepented her of her evil, and surely God hath punished her very sorely for\nthe wickedness she hath tried to do.\"\n\nThen King Meliadus was very wroth that Tristram should interfere with the\nlaw; but yet he had granted that boon to his son and could not withdraw. So\nafter a while of thought he said: \"Well, I have promised, and so I will\nperform my promise. Her life is thine; go to the stake and take her. But\nwhen thou hast done so I bid thee go forth from this place and show thy\nface here no more. For thou hast interfered with the law, and hast done ill\nthat thou, the son of the King, should save this murderess. So thou shalt\nleave this place, for I mistrust that between you two some murder will\nbefall in this country.\"\n\nSo Tristram went weeping to where the Queen was bound to the stake; and he\ncut her bonds with his dagger and set her free. And he said: \"Lady, thou\nart free; now go thy way, and may God forgive thee as I do.\" Then the Queen\nwept also, and said, \"Tristram, thou art very good to me.\" And because she\nwas barefoot and in her shift, Tristram took his cloak and wrapped it about\nher.\n\n[Sidenote: Tristram departs from Lyonesse] After that, Tristram\nstraightway left Lyonesse, and King Meliadus appointed that a noble and\nhonorable lord of the court, hight Gouvernail, should go with him. They two\nwent to France, and there they were made very welcome at the court of the\nKing. So Tristram dwelt in France till he was eighteen years old, and\neveryone at the court of the King of France loved him and honored him so\nthat he dwelt there as though he were of the blood of France.\n\nDuring the time that he was in France he became the greatest hunter in the\nworld, and he wrote many books on venery that were read and studied long\nafter he had ceased to live. Also he became so skilful with the harp that\nno minstrel in the world was his equal. And ever he waxed more sturdy of\nframe and more beautiful of countenance, and more well-taught in all the\nworship of knighthood. For during that time he became so wonderfully\nexcellent in arms that there was no one in France who was his equal.\n\nThus Tristram dwelt at peace in that land for five years, but even he\nlonged for his own home with all the might and main of his heart. So one\nday he said to Gouvernail: \"Gouvernail, I cannot deny myself any longer\nfrom seeing my father and my own country, for I feel that I must see them\nor else my heart will certainly break because of its great longing.\" Nor\nwould he listen to anything that Gouvernail might say contrary to this. So\nthey two took their departure from France, and Tristram travelled as a\nharper and Gouvernail as his attendant. Thus they came to Lyonesse in that\nwise.\n\n[Sidenote: How Tristram returns to Lyonesse] One day whilst King Meliadus\nsat at meat, they two came into the hall, and Gouvernail wore a long white\nbeard which altogether disguised him so that no one knew him. But Tristram\nshone with such a great radiance of beauty and of youth that all who looked\nupon him marvelled at him. And the heart of King Meliadus went out to\nTristram very strongly, and he said before all of his court, \"Who art thou,\nfair youth? And whence comest thou?\" To which Tristram made reply: \"Lord, I\nam a harper, and this is my man, and we have come from France.\" Then King\nMeliadus said to Tristram: \"Sir, have you seen a youth in France whom men\ncall Tristram?\" And Tristram replied, \"Yea, I have seen him several times.\"\nKing Meliadus said, \"Doth he do well?\" \"Yea,\" said Tristram, \"he doeth very\nwell, though at times he is sore oppressed with a great desire for his own\ncountry.\" At this King Meliadus turned away his face, for his heart went\nvery strongly out at the thought of his son. Then by and by he said to\nTristram, \"Wilt thou play upon thy harp?\" And Tristram said, \"Yea, if it\nwill please thee to hear me.\" Therewith he took his harp and he set it\nbefore him, and he struck the strings and played upon it, and he sang in\nsuch a wise that no one who was there had ever heard the like thereof.\n\nThen King Meliadus' heart was melted at Tristram's minstrelsy, and he said:\n\"That is wonderful harping. Now ask what thou wilt of me, and it shall be\nthine, whatever it may be.\"\n\nTo this Tristram said, \"Lord, that is a great thing that thou sayest.\"\n\"Nevertheless,\" said King Meliadus, \"it shall be as I say.\" Then Tristram\nleft his harp and he came to where King Meliadus sat, and he kneeled down\nbefore him and he said: \"Lord, if so be that is the case, then that which I\nask of thee is this: that thou wilt forgive me and bring me back into thy\nfavor again.\"\n\n[Sidenote: King Meliadus is reconciled to Tristram] At that King Meliadus\nwas filled with a great wonder, and he said: \"Fair youth, who art thou, and\nwhat have I to forgive thee?\" \"Lord,\" said Tristram, \"I am thy son, and ask\nthee to forgive me that I should have saved the life of that lady who is\nthy Queen.\"\n\nAt this King Meliadus cried out with joy, and he came down from where he\nsat and he took Tristram into his arms and kissed him upon the face, and\nTristram wept and kissed his father upon the face.\n\nSo they were reconciled.\n\nAfter that, Tristram abode in peace in Lyonesse for some while, and during\nthat time he made peace betwixt King Meliadus and Queen Moeya, and the\nQueen loved him because he was so good to her.\n\n[Sidenote: Tristram refuses knighthood] Now after the return of Tristram\nas aforesaid, King Meliadus would have made him a knight, but Tristram\nwould not suffer the honor of knighthood to be bestowed upon him at that\ntime, but always said: \"Lord, think not ill of me if I do not accept\nknighthood at this time. For I would fain wait until the chance for some\nlarge adventure cometh; then I would be made a knight for to meet that\nadventure, so that I might immediately win renown. For what credit could\nthere be to our house if I should be made knight, only that I might sit in\nhall and feast and drink and make merry?\"\n\nSo spoke Sir Tristram, and his words sounded well to King Meliadus,\nwherefore from thenceforth King Meliadus refrained from urging knighthood\nupon him.\n\nNow the way that Sir Tristram achieved knighthood shall be told in that\nwhich followeth, and also it shall then be told how he fought his first\nbattle, which was one of the most famous that ever he fought in all of his\nlife.\n\n[Illustration: King Mark of Cornwall]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Second\n\n\n_How Sir Tristram was made knight by the King of Cornwall, and\nhow he fought a battle with a famous champion._\n\nNow first of all it is to be here said that at that time there was great\ntrouble come to King Mark of Cornwall (who, as aforesaid, was uncle to Sir\nTristram) and the trouble was this:\n\n[Sidenote: The King of Ireland claims truage of Cornwall] The King of\nCornwall and the King of Ireland had great debate concerning an island that\nlay in the sea betwixt Cornwall and Ireland. For though that island was\nheld by Cornwall, yet the King of Ireland laid claim to it and demanded\nthat the King of Cornwall should pay him truage for the same. This King\nMark refused to do, and there was great contention betwixt Cornwall and\nIreland, so that each country made ready for war.\n\nBut the King of Ireland said: \"Let there not be war betwixt Ireland and\nCornwall concerning this disagreement, but let us settle this affair in\nsome other way. Let us each choose a champion and let those two champions\ndecide the rights of this case by a combat at arms. For so the truth shall\nbe made manifest.\"\n\nNow you are to know that at that time the knights of Cornwall were held in\ngreat disregard by all courts of chivalry; for there was not in those days\nany knight of repute in all the court of Cornwall. Wherefore King Mark knew\nnot where he should find him a champion to meet that challenge from the\nKing of Ireland. Yet he must needs meet it, for he was ashamed to refuse\nsuch a challenge as that, and so to acknowledge that Cornwall had no\nknight-champion to defend it. So he said it should be as the King of\nIreland would have it, and that if the King of Ireland would choose a\nchampion, he also would do the same.\n\n[Sidenote: The King of Ireland chooses Sir Marhaus for his champion]\nThereupon the King of Ireland chose for his champion Sir Marhaus of\nIreland, who was one of the greatest knights in the world. For in the Book\nof King Arthur (which I wrote aforetime) you may there read in the story of\nSir Pellias how great and puissant a champion Sir Marhaus was, and how he\noverthrew Sir Gawaine and others with the greatest ease. Wherefore at that\ntime he was believed by many to be the greatest knight in the world (it\nbeing before the days of Sir Launcelot of the Lake), and even in the days\nof Sir Launcelot it was doubted whether he or Sir Launcelot were the\ngreater champion.\n\nSo King Mark could not find any knight in Cornwall to stand against Sir\nMarhaus. Nor could he easily find any knight outside of Cornwall to do\nbattle with him. For Sir Marhaus, being a knight of the Round Table, no\nother knight of the Round Table would fight against him--and there were no\nother knights so great as that famous brotherhood of the Table Round.\n\nAccordingly, King Mark knew not where to turn to find him a champion to do\nbattle in his behalf.\n\nIn this strait, King Mark sent a letter by a messenger to Lyonesse, asking\nif there was any knight at Lyonesse who would stand his champion against\nSir Marhaus, and he offered great reward if such a champion would undertake\nhis cause against Ireland.\n\n[Sidenote: Tristram asks leave to go to Cornwall] Now when young Tristram\nheard this letter of his uncle King Mark, he straightway went to his father\nand said: \"Sire, some whiles ago you desired that I should become a knight.\nNow I would that you would let me go to Cornwall upon this occasion. For\nwhen I come there I will beseech my uncle King Mark to make me a knight,\nand then I will go out against Sir Marhaus. For I have a great mind to\nundertake this adventure in behalf of King Mark, and to stand his champion\nagainst Sir Marhaus. For though Sir Marhaus is so great a knight and so\nfamous a hero, yet if I should have the good fortune to overcome him in\nbattle, there would, certes, be great glory to our house through my\nknighthood.\"\n\nThen King Meliadus looked upon Tristram and loved him very dearly, and he\nsaid: \"Tristram, thou hast assuredly a very great heart to undertake this\nadventure, which no one else will essay. So I bid thee go, in God's name,\nif so be thy heart bids thee to go. For maybe God will lend the strength\nnecessary to carry this adventure through to a successful issue.\"\n\nSo that very day Tristram departed from Lyonesse for Cornwall, taking with\nhim only Gouvernail as his companion. So, by ship, he reached Cornwall, and\nthe castle of Tintagel, where King Mark was then holding court.\n\nAnd it was at the sloping of the afternoon when he so came, and at that\ntime King Mark was sitting in hall with many of his knights and lords about\nhim. And the King was brooding in great trouble of spirit. Unto him came an\nattendant, saying: \"Lord, there are two strangers who stand without, and\ncrave to be admitted to your presence. One of them hath great dignity and\nsobriety of demeanor, and the other, who is a youth, is of so noble and\nstately an appearance that I do not believe his like is to be found in the\nentire world.\"\n\nTo this the King said, \"Show them in.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Tristram and Gouvernail come to Cornwall] So those two were\nimmediately admitted into the hall and came and stood before King Mark; and\nthe one of them was Gouvernail and the other was young Tristram. So\nTristram stood forth before Gouvernail and Gouvernail bore the harp of\nTristram, and the harp was of gold and shone most brightly and beautifully.\nThen King Mark looked upon Tristram, and marvelled at his size and beauty;\nfor Tristram stood above any man in that place, so that he looked like a\nhero amongst them. His brow was as white as milk and his lips were red like\nto coral and his hair was as red as gold and as plentiful as the mane of a\nyoung lion, and his neck was thick and sturdy and straight like to a round\npillar of white-stone, and he was clad in garments of blue silk embroidered\nvery cunningly with threads of gold and set with a countless multitude of\ngems of divers colors. So because of all this he glistened with a singular\nradiance of richness and beauty.\n\nSo King Mark marvelled at the haughtiness of Tristram's appearance, and he\nfelt his heart drawn toward Tristram with love and admiration. Then, after\na little, he spoke, saying: \"Fair youth, who are you, and whence come you,\nand what is it you would have of me?\"\n\n[Sidenote: Tristram offers himself as champion for Cornwall] \"Lord,\" said\nTristram, \"my name is Tristram, and I come from the country of Lyonesse,\nwhere your own sister was one time Queen. Touching the purpose of my coming\nhither, it is this: having heard that you are in need of a champion to\ncontend for your rights against the champion of Ireland, I come hither to\nsay that if you will make me a knight with your own hand, I will take it\nupon me to stand your champion and to meet Sir Marhaus of Ireland upon your\nbehalf.\"\n\nThen King Mark was filled with wonder at the courage of Tristram, and he\nsaid: \"Fair youth, are you not aware that Sir Marhaus of Ireland is a\nknight well set in years and of such great and accredited deeds of arms\nthat it is supposed that, excepting Sir Launcelot of the Lake, there is not\nhis peer in any court of chivalry in all of the world? How then can you,\nwho are altogether new to the use of arms, hope to stand against so\nrenowned a champion as he?\"\n\n\"Lord,\" quoth Tristram, \"I am well aware of what sort of knight Sir Marhaus\nis, and I am very well aware of the great danger of this undertaking. Yet\nif one who covets knighthood shall fear to face a danger, what virtue would\nthere then be in the chivalry of knighthood? So, Messire, I put my trust in\nGod, His mercies, and I have great hope that He will lend me both courage\nand strength in my time of need.\"\n\nThen King Mark began to take great joy, for he said to himself: \"Maybe this\nyouth shall indeed bring me forth in safety out of these dangers that\nmenace my honor.\" So he said: \"Tristram, I do believe that you will stand a\nvery excellent chance of success in this undertaking, wherefore it shall be\nas you desire; I will make you a knight, and besides that I will fit you\nwith armor and accoutrements in all ways becoming to the estate of a\nknight-royal. Likewise I will provide you a Flemish horse of the best\nstrain, so that you shall be both furnished and horsed as well as any\nknight in the world hath ever been.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Tristram is made knight-royal] So that night Tristram watched\nhis armor in the chapel of the castle, and the next day he was made knight\nwith all the circumstances appertaining to a ceremony of such solemnity as\nthat. And upon the afternoon of the day upon which he was thus made knight,\nKing Mark purveyed a ship in all ways befitting the occasion, and in the\nship Tristram and Gouvernail set sail for that island where Sir Marhaus was\nknown to be abiding at that time.\n\nNow upon the second day of their voyaging and about the middle of the day\nthey came to a land which they knew must be the place which they were\nseeking, and there the sailors made a safe harbor. As soon as they were at\nanchor a gangway was set from the ship to the shore and Sir Tristram and\nGouvernail drave their horses across the gangway and so to the dry land.\n\nThereafter they rode forward for a considerable distance, until about the\nfirst slanting of the afternoon they perceived in the distance three very\nfair ships drawn up close to the shore. And then they were aware of a\nknight, clad in full armor and seated upon a noble horse under the shadow\nof those ships, and they wist that that must be he whom Sir Tristram\nsought.\n\nThen Gouvernail spake to Sir Tristram, saying: \"Sir, that knight resting\nyonder beneath the shelter of the ships must be Sir Marhaus.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram goes forth to meet Sir Marhaus] \"Yea,\" said Sir\nTristram, \"that is assuredly he.\" So he gazed very steadily at the knight\nfor a long while, and by and by he said: \"Gouvernail, yonder seems to me to\nbe a very great and haughty knight for a knight so young as I am to have to\ndo with in his first battle; yet if God will lend me His strong aid in this\naffair, I shall assuredly win me great credit at his hands.\" Then after\nanother short while he said: \"Now go, Gouvernail, and leave me alone in\nthis affair, for I do not choose for anyone to be by when I have to do with\nyonder knight. For either I shall overcome him in this combat or else I\nwill lay down my life at this place. For the case is thus, Gouvernail; if\nSir Marhaus should overcome me and if I should yield me to him as\nvanquished, then mine uncle must pay truage to the King of Ireland for the\nland of Cornwall; but if I died without yielding me to mine enemy, then he\nmust yet do battle with another champion at another time, if my uncle the\nKing can find such an one to do battle in his behalf. So I am determined\neither to win this battle or to die therein.\"\n\nNow when Gouvernail heard this, he fell a-weeping in great measure; and he\ncried out: \"Sir, let not this battle be of that sort!\" To him Sir Tristram\nsaid very steadfastly: \"Say no more, Gouvernail, but go as I bid thee.\"\nWhereupon Gouvernail turned and went away, as he was bidden to do, weeping\nvery bitterly as he went.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram proclaims his degree] Now by this Sir Marhaus had\ncaught sight of Sir Tristram where he stood in that field, and so presently\nhe came riding thitherward to meet Sir Tristram. When he had come nigh, Sir\nMarhaus said: \"Who art thou, Sir Knight?\" Unto these Sir Tristram made\nreply: \"Sir, I am Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, son of King Meliadus of that\nland, and nephew of King Mark of Cornwall. I am come to do battle upon\nbehalf of the King of Cornwall, to release him from the demands of truage\nmade by the King of Ireland.\" Quoth Sir Marhaus: \"Messire, are you a knight\nof approval and of battles?\" \"Nay,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I have only been\ncreated knight these three days.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Marhaus, \"I am very sorry for thee and for thy noble\ncourage that hath brought thee hither to this place. Thou art not fit to\nhave to do with me, for I am one who hath fought in more than twice twenty\nbattles, each one of which was, I believe, greater than this is like to be.\nAlso I have matched me with the very best knights in the world, and have\nnever yet been overcome. So I advise thee, because of thy extreme youth, to\nreturn to King Mark and bid him send me another champion in thy stead, who\nshall be better seasoned than thou art.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I give thee gramercy for thy advice. But I may\ntell thee that I was made knight for no other purpose than to do battle\nwith thee; so I may not return without having fulfilled mine adventure.\nMoreover, because of thy great renown and thy courage and prowess, I feel\nall the more desirous to have to do with thee; for if I should die at thy\nhand, then there will be no shame to me, but if I should win this battle\nfrom thee, then I shall have very great renown in the courts of chivalry.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Marhaus, \"it is not likely that thou shalt die at my hand.\nFor because of thy youth I will not have it that this battle shall be so\ndesperate as that.\" \"Say not so,\" said Sir Tristram, \"for either I shall\ndie at thy hand, or else I shall overcome thee in this battle, for I make\nmy vow to God that I will not yield myself to thee so long as there is life\nwithin my body.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Marhaus, \"that is certes a great pity. But as thou hast\nforeordained it, so it must needs be.\" Therewith he saluted Sir Tristram\nand drew rein and rode aside to a little distance where he straightway made\nready for that battle. Nor was Sir Tristram behind him in making\npreparation, albeit he was filled with doubts as to the outcome of that\nundertaking.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram is wounded] Then when they were in all ways\nprepared, each gave shout and drave spurs into his horse and rushed toward\nthe other with such fury that it was terrible to behold. And each smote the\nother with his spear in the centre of his shield, and in that encounter Sir\nMarhaus smote through Sir Tristram's shield and gave Sir Tristram a great\nwound in his side. Then Sir Tristram felt the blood gush out of that wound\nin such abundance that it filled his iron boots, so that they were sodden\ntherewith, and he thought he had got his death-wound. But in spite of that\ngrievous bitter stroke, he held his seat and was not overthrown. Then so\nsoon as he had recovered himself he voided his horse and drew his sword and\nset his shield before him; and when Sir Marhaus saw his preparations, he\nlikewise voided his horse and made ready for battle upon foot. So\nstraightway they came together with terrible fury, lashing at each other\nwith such fearful strength and evil will that it was dreadful to behold.\nAnd each gave the other many grievous strokes, so that whole pieces of\narmor were hewn off from their bodies; and each gave the other many deep\nwounds, so that that part of the armor that still hung to them became red\nas though it were painted with red. Likewise the ground was all besprinkled\nred where they stood, yet neither gave any thought to quitting that battle\nin which they were engaged.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram gives Sir Marhaus a death-wound] Now for a while\nSir Tristram feared because of the wound which he had at first received\nthat he would die in that battle, but by and by he perceived that he was\nstouter than Sir Marhaus and better winded; wherefore great hope came to\nhim and uplifted him with redoubled strength. Then presently Sir Marhaus\nfell back a little and when Sir Tristram perceived that he ran in upon him\nand smote him several times, such direful strokes that Sir Marhaus could\nnot hold up his shield against that assault. Then Sir Tristram perceived\nthat Sir Marhaus was no longer able to hold up his shield, and therewith he\nsmote him a great blow with his sword upon the helmet. So direful was that\nblow that the sword of Sir Tristram pierced very deep through the helm of\nSir Marhaus and into the brainpan. And Sir Tristram's sword stuck fast in\nthe helm and the brain-pan of Sir Marhaus so that Sir Tristram could not\npull it out again. Then Sir Marhaus, half a-swoon, fell down upon his\nknees, and therewith a part of the edge of the blade brake off from Sir\nTristram's sword, and remained in the wound that he had given to Sir\nMarhaus.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Marhaus leaves the field] Then Sir Marhaus was aware that\nhe had got his death-wound, wherefore a certain strength came to him so\nthat he rose to his feet staggering like a drunken man. And at first he\nbegan going about in a circle and crying most dolorously. Then as he wist\nall that had happed he threw away his sword and his shield, and made away\nfrom that place, staggering and stumbling like one who had gone blind; for\nhe was all bewildered with that mortal wound, and wist not very well what\nhe was doing or whither he was going. Then Sir Tristram would have made\nafter him to stop him, but he could not do so because he himself was so\nsorely wounded and so weak from the loss of blood. Yet he called after Sir\nMarhaus: \"Stay, stay, Sir Knight! Let us finish this battle now we are\nabout it!\" But to this Sir Marhaus made no answer, but went on down to his\nships, staggering and stumbling like a blind man as aforesaid, for the sore\nwound which he had received still lent him a false strength of body so that\nhe was able to go his way. Then those who were aboard the ships, beholding\nhim thus coming staggering toward them, came down and met him and lifted\nhim up and bore him away to his own ship. Thereafter, as soon as might be\nthey hoisted sail and lifted anchor and took their way from that place.\n\nThen by and by came Gouvernail and several others of Sir Tristram's party\nto where Sir Tristram was; and there they found him leaning upon his sword\nand groaning very sorely because of the great wound in his side. So\npresently they perceived that he could not walk, wherefore they lifted him\nup upon his own shield and bore him thence to that ship that had brought\nhim thither.\n\nAnd when they had come to the ship they laid him down upon a couch and\nstripped him of his armor to search his wounds. Then they beheld what a\ngreat wound it was that Sir Marhaus had given him in the side, and they\nlifted up their voices in sorrow, for they all believed that he would die.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristam returns to Cornwall] So they set sail, and in two\ndays brought him back to King Mark, where he sat at Tintagel in Cornwall.\nAnd when King Mark saw how pale and wan and weak Sir Tristram was, he wept\nand grieved very sorely for sorrow of that sight, for he too thought that\nSir Tristram was certainly about to die.\n\nBut Sir Tristram smiled upon King Mark, and he said: \"Lord, have I done\nwell for thy sake?\" And King Mark said, \"Yea,\" and fell to weeping again.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram proclaims himself to King Mark] \"Then,\" quoth\nTristram, \"it is time for me to tell thee who I am who have saved thy\nkingdom from the shame of having to pay truage to Ireland, and that I am\nthine own sister's son. For my father is King Meliadus of Lyonesse, and my\nmother was the Lady Elizabeth, who was thine own sister till God took her\nsoul to Paradise to dwell there with His angels.\"\n\nBut when King Mark heard this he went forth from that place and into his\nown chamber. And when he had come there he fell down upon his knees and\ncried out aloud: \"Alas, alas, that this should be! Rather, God, would I\nlose my entire kingdom than that my sister's son should come to his death\nin this wise!\"\n\nNow it remaineth to say of Sir Marhaus that those who were with him brought\nhim back to Ireland and that there in a little while he died of the wound\nthat Sir Tristram had given him upon the head. But ere he died, and whilst\nthey were dressing that hurt, the Queen of Ireland, who was sister to Sir\nMarhaus, discovered the broken piece of the blade still in that grim wound.\nThis she drew forth and set aside, and hid very carefully, saying to\nherself: \"If ever I meet that knight to whose sword this piece of blade\nfitteth, then it will be an evil day for him.\"\n\nThus I have told you all the circumstances of that great battle betwixt Sir\nTristram of Lyonesse and Sir Marhaus of Ireland. And now you shall hear how\nit befell Sir Tristram thereafter; so harken to what followeth.\n\n[Illustration: The Lady Belle Isoult]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Third\n\n\n_How Sir Tristram went to Ireland to be healed of his wound by the King's\ndaughter of Ireland, and of how he came to love the Lady Belle Isoult. Also\nconcerning Sir Palamydes and the Lady Belle Isoult._\n\nNow that grievous hurt which Sir Tristram had received at the hands of Sir\nMarhaus did not heal, but instead grew even more rankled and sore, so that\nthere were many who thought that there had been treachery practised and\nthat the spearhead had been poisoned to cause such a malignant disease as\nthat with which the wounded man suffered. So by and by Sir Tristram grew so\ngrievously sick of his hurt that all those who were near him thought that\nhe must certainly die.\n\nThen King Mark sent everywhere and into all parts for the most wise and\nlearned leeches and chirurgeons to come to Cornwall and search the wounds\nof Sir Tristram, but of all these no one could bring him any ease.\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Tristram lieth sick in Cornwall] Now one day there came\nto the court of King Mark a very wise lady, who had travelled much in the\nworld and had great knowledge of wounds of all sorts. At the bidding of the\nKing, she went to where Sir Tristram lay, and searched the wound as so many\nhad already done. And when she had done that she came out of Sir Tristram's\nchamber and unto King Mark, where he was waiting for her. Then King Mark\nsaid to her: \"Well, how will it be with yonder knight?\" \"Lord,\" quoth she,\n\"it is thus; I can do nothing to save his life, nor do I know of any one\nwho may save it unless it be the King's daughter of Ireland, who is known\nas the Belle Isoult because of her wonderful beauty. She is the most\nskilful leech in all of the world, and she alone may hope to bring Sir\nTristram back to life and health again, for I believe that if she fail no\none else can save him.\"\n\nThen after the aforesaid lady had gone, King Mark went to where Sir\nTristram lay, and he told him all that she had said concerning his\ncondition; and King Mark said: \"Tristram, wilt thou go to the King's\ndaughter of Ireland and let her search thy wound?\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram groaned at the thought of the weariness and pain of\nmoving, and he said: \"Lord, this is a great undertaking for one who is so\nsick. Moreover, it is a great risk for me, for, if I go to Ireland, and if\nit be found that I am he who slew Sir Marhaus, then it is hardly likely\nthat I shall ever escape from that country again with my life. Ne'theless,\nI am so sorely sick of this wound that I would rather die than live as I am\nliving; wherefore I will go to Ireland for the sake of being healed, if\nsuch a thing is possible.\"\n\nAccordingly, a little while after that, King Mark provided a ship to carry\nSir Tristram to Ireland. This ship he furnished with sails of silk of\ndivers colors, and he had it hung within with fine embroidered cloth, and\nfabrics woven with threads of silver and gold, so that in its appearance it\nwas a worthy vessel even for a great king to sail in. Then, when all was\nready, King Mark had a number of attendants carry Sir Tristram down to the\nship in a litter, and he had them lay Sir Tristram upon a soft couch of\ncrimson satin, which was set upon the deck beneath a canopy of crimson\nsilk, embroidered with threads of silver and garnished with fringe of\nsilver, and Sir Tristram lay there at ease where the breezes of the ocean\ncame pleasantly to him, and breathed upon his face and his temples and his\nhair and his hands with coolness; and Gouvernail was with Sir Tristram all\nthe while in attendance upon him.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram sails to Ireland to have his wound searched] So\nthey set sail for Ireland, the weather being very fair and pleasant, and on\nthe third day, at about the time of sunset, they came to a part of the\ncoast of Ireland where there was a castle built upon the rocks that rose\nout of the sea.\n\nNow there were several fishermen fishing in boats near that castle, and of\nthese the pilot of Sir Tristram's boat made inquiry what castle that was.\nTo him the fisherman replied: \"That castle is the castle of King Angus of\nIreland.\" And the fisherman said: \"It so happens that the King and Queen\nand their daughter, hight the Lady Belle Isoult, and all of their court are\nthere at this very while.\"\n\nThis Sir Tristram heard and said: \"This is good news, for indeed I am very\nsick and am right glad that my voyaging is ended.\" So he gave orders that\nthe pilot should bring the ship close under the walls of that castle, and\nthat he should there let go anchor; and the pilot did as Sir Tristram had\ncommanded him.\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Tristram came to Ireland] Now, as aforesaid, that ship\nwas of a very wonderful appearance, like to the ship of a king or a high\nprince, wherefore many people came down to the walls of the castle and\nstood there and gazed at the vessel as it sailed into the harbor. And by\nthat time the sun had set and all the air was illuminated with a marvellous\ngolden light; and in this sky of gold the moon hung like a shield of\nsilver, very bright and steady above the roofs and towers of the castle.\nAnd there came from the land a pleasing perfume of blossoms; for it was\nthen in the fulness of the spring-time, and all the fruit-bearing trees\nwere luxuriant with bloom so that the soft air of evening was full of\nfragrance thereby.\n\nThen there came a great content into the heart of Sir Tristram, wherefore\nhe said to Gouvernail: \"Gouvernail, either I shall soon be healed of this\nwound, or else I shall presently die and enter into Paradise free of pain,\nfor I am become very full of content and of peace toward all men.\" And then\nhe said: \"Bring me hither my harp, that I may play upon it a little, for I\nhave a desire to chant in this pleasant evening-time.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram sings] So Gouvernail brought to Sir Tristram his\nshining harp, and when Sir Tristram had taken it into his hands he tuned\nit, and when he had tuned it he struck it and sang; and, because of the\nstillness of the evening, his voice sounded marvellously clear and sweet\nacross the level water, so that those who stood upon the castle walls and\nheard it thought that maybe an angel was singing on board of that ship.\n\nThat time the Lady Belle Isoult sat at the window of her bower enjoying the\npleasantness of the evening. She also heard Sir Tristram singing, and she\nsaid to those damsels who were with her, \"Ha, what is that I hear?\"\nTherewith she listened for a little while, and then she said: \"Meseems that\nmust be the voice of some angel that is singing.\" They say: \"Nay, Lady, it\nis a wounded knight singing, and he came to this harbor in a wonderful ship\nsome while ago.\" Then the Lady Belle Isoult said to a page who was in\nattendance: \"Bid the King and Queen come hither, that they may hear this\nsinging also, for never did I think to hear such singing beyond the walls\nof Paradise.\"\n\nSo the page ran with all speed, and in a little the King and Queen came to\nthe bower of the Lady Belle Isoult; and she and they leaned upon the\nwindow-ledge and listened to Sir Tristram whilst he sang in the soft\ntwilight. Then by and by King Angus said: \"Now I will have yonder minstrel\nbrought thither to this castle to do us pleasure, for I believe that he\nmust be the greatest minstrel in all the world to sing in that wise.\" And\nthe Lady Belle Isoult said: \"I pray you, sir, do so, for it would be great\njoy to everybody to have such singing as that in this place.\"\n\nSo King Angus sent a barge to that ship, and besought that he who sang\nshould be brought to the castle. At that Sir Tristram was very glad, for he\nsaid: \"Now I shall be brought to the Lady the Belle Isoult and maybe she\nwill heal me.\" So he had them bare him to the barge of the King of Ireland,\nand so they brought him to the castle of King Angus, where they laid him\nupon a bed in a fair room of the castle.\n\n[Sidenote: King Angus cometh to Tristram] Then King Angus came to Sir\nTristram where he lay, and he said: \"Messire what can I do for you to put\nyou more at your ease than you are?\" \"Lord,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I pray you\nto permit the Lady Belle Isoult to search a great wound in my side that I\nreceived in battle. For I hear that she is the most skilful leech in all\nthe world, and so I have come hither from a great distance, being in such\npain and dole from my grievous hurt that I shall die in a little while\nunless it be healed.\"\n\n\"Messire,\" said King Angus, \"I perceive that you are no ordinary knight,\nbut somebody of high nobility and estate, so it shall be as you desire.\"\nAnd then King Angus said: \"I pray you, tell me your name and whence you\ncome.\"\n\nUpon this, Sir Tristram communed within his own mind, saying: \"An I say my\nname is Tristram, haply there may be someone here will know me and that I\nwas the cause why the brother of the Queen of this place hath died.\" So he\nsaid: \"Lord, my name is Sir Tramtris, and I am come from a country called\nLyonesse, which is a great distance from this.\"\n\nQuoth King Angus, \"Well, Sir Tramtris, I am glad that you have come to this\nplace. Now it shall be done to you as you desire, for to-morrow the Lady\nBelle Isoult shall search your wound to heal it if possible.\"\n\n[Sidenote: My Lady Belle Isoult searches the wound] And so it was as King\nAngus said, for the next day the Lady Belle Isoult came with her attendants\nto where Sir Tristram lay, and one of the attendants bare a silver basin\nand another bare a silver ewer, and others bare napkins of fine linen. So\nthe Lady Belle Isoult came close to Sir Tristram and kneeled beside the\ncouch whereon he lay and said, \"Let me see the wound.\" Therewith Sir\nTristram laid bare his bosom and his side and she beheld it. Then she felt\ngreat pity for Sir Tristram because of that dolorous wound, and she said:\n\"Alas, that so young and so fair and so noble a knight should suffer so\nsore a wound as this!\" Therewith still kneeling beside Sir Tristram she\nsearched the wound with very gentle, tender touch (for her fingers were\nlike to rose leaves for softness) and lo! she found a part of the blade of\na spear-head embedded very deep in the wound of Sir Tristram.\n\nThis she drew forth very deftly (albeit Sir Tristram groaned with a great\npassion of pain) and therewithafter came forth an issue of blood like a\ncrimson fountain, whereupon Sir Tristram swooned away like one who had gone\ndead. But he did not die, for they quickly staunched the flow, set aromatic\nspices to his nostrils, so that in a little he revived in spirit to find\nhimself at great ease and peace in his body (albeit it was for a while like\nto the peace of death).\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram is healed] Thus it was that the Lady Belle Isoult\nsaved the life of Sir Tristram, for in a little while he was able to be\nabout again, and presently waxed almost entirely hale and strong in limb\nand body.\n\nAnd now it is to be told how Sir Tristram loved the Lady Belle Isoult and\nhow she loved Sir Tristram. Also how a famous knight, hight Sir Palamydes\nthe Saracen, loved Belle Isoult and of how she loved not him.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram loves the Lady Belle Isoult] For, as was said, it\ncame about that in a little while Sir Tristram was healed of that grievous\nwound aforetold of so that he was able to come and go whithersoever he\nchose. But always he would be with the Lady Belle Isoult, for Sir Tristram\nloved her with a wonderfully passionate regard. And so likewise the lady\nloved Sir Tristram. For if he loved her because she had saved his life,\nthen she also loved him for the same reason. For she did not ever forget\nhow she had drawn out the head of that spear from the wound at his side,\nand of how he had groaned when she brought it forth, and of how the blood\nhad gushed out of that wound. Wherefore she loved him very aboundingly for\nthe agony of pain she had one time caused him to suffer.\n\nSo they two fair and noble creatures were always together in bower or in\nhall, and no one in all that while wist that Sir Tramtris was Sir Tristram,\nand that it was his hand that had slain Sir Marhaus of Ireland.\n\nSo Sir Tristram was there in Ireland for a year, and in that time he grew\nto be altogether well and sturdy again.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Palamydes cometh to Ireland] Now it was in those days that\nthere came Sir Palamydes the Saracen knight to that place, who was held to\nbe one of the very foremost knights in the world. So great rejoicing was\nmade over him because he had come thither, and great honor was shown to him\nby everyone.\n\nBut when Sir Palamydes beheld the Lady Belle Isoult and when he saw how\nfair she was, he came in a short while to love her with almost as\npassionate a regard as that with which Sir Tristram loved her, so that he\nalso sought ever to be with her whenever the chance offered.\n\nBut Belle Isoult felt no regard for Sir Palamydes, but only fear of him,\nfor all of her love was given to Sir Tristram. Nevertheless, because Sir\nPalamydes was so fierce and powerful a knight, she did not dare to offend\nhim; wherefore she smiled upon him and treated him with all courtesy and\nkindness although she loved him not, dissembling her regard for him.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram is displeased] All this Sir Tristram beheld from\naside and it displeased him a very great deal to see how Sir Palamydes was\nalways beside the lady. But Belle Isoult beheld how Sir Tristram was\ndispleased, wherefore she took occasion to say to him: \"Tramtris, be not\ndispleased, for what am I to do? You know very well that I do not love this\nknight, but I am afraid of him because he is so fierce and so strong.\"\n\nTo this Sir Tristram said: \"Lady, it would be a great shame to me if I,\nbeing by, should suffer any knight to come betwixt you and me and win your\nregard through fear of him.\"\n\nShe said: \"Tramtris, what would you do? Would you give challenge to this\nknight? Lo, you are not yet entirely healed of your hurt, and Sir Palamydes\nis in perfect strength of body. For indeed it is for you I am most of all\nafraid lest you and Sir Palamydes should come to battle and lest he should\ndo you a harm before you are entirely healed.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram desires to do battle] \"Lady,\" quoth Sir Tristram,\n\"I thank God that I am not at all afraid of this knight, or of any other\nknight, and I have to thank you that I am now entirely recovered and am as\nstrong as ever I was. Wherefore I have now a mind to deal with this knight\nin your behalf. So if you will provide me with armor I will deal with him\nso that maybe he will not trouble you again. Now I will devise it in this\nway:--tell your father, King Angus, to proclaim a great jousting. In that\njousting I will seek out Sir Palamydes and will encounter him, and I hope\nwith God's aid that I shall overcome him, so that you shall be free from\nhim.\"\n\nBelle Isoult said, \"Tramtris, are you able for this?\" He said, \"Yea, I am\nas ready as ever I shall be in all of my life.\" Whereat Belle Isoult said,\n\"It shall be as you will have it.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram charged Belle Isoult that she should keep secret all this\nthat had been said betwixt them. And more especially she was to keep it\nsecret that he was to take part in such a tournament as that which they had\ndevised. And he said to her: \"Lady, I lie here under a great peril to my\nlife, though I cannot tell you what that peril is. But I may tell you that\nif my enemies should discover me at this place, it would go hard with me to\npreserve my life from them. Wherefore, if I take part in any such affair as\nthis, it must be altogether a secret betwixt us.\"\n\nSo therewith they parted and Lady Belle Isoult went to her father and\nbesought him to proclaim a great day of jousting in honor of Sir Palamydes,\nand the King said that he would do so. So the King sent forth proclamation\nto all the courts of that nation that a great tournament was to be held and\nthat great rewards and great honors were to be given to the best knight\nthereat. And that tournament was talked about in all the courts of chivalry\nwhere there were knights who desired to win glory in such affairs at arms.\n\nAnd now it shall be told concerning that tournament and how it befell with\nSir Tristram thereat, and with Sir Palamydes thereat.\n\n[Illustration: The Queen of Ireland seeks to slay Sir Tristram]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Fourth\n\n\n_How Sir Tristram encountered Sir Palamydes at the tournament and of what\nbefell. Also how Sir Tristram was forced to leave the Kingdom of Ireland._\n\nSo came the time for the tournament that King Angus of Ireland had\nordained; and that was a very famous affair at arms indeed. For it hath\nvery rarely happened that so noble a gathering of knights hath ever come\ntogether as that company which there presented itself for that occasion at\nthe court of the King of Ireland.\n\n[Sidenote: Of the court of chivalry at Ireland] For you may know how\nexcellent was the court of chivalry that fore gathered thereat when you\nshall hear that there came to that tournament, the King of an Hundred\nKnights and the King of the Scots, and that there came several knights of\nthe Round Table, to wit: Sir Gawaine, Sir Gaheris and Sir Agravaine; and\nSir Bagdemagus and Sir Kay and Sir Dodinas, and Sir Sagramore le Desirous,\nand Sir Gumret the Less, and Sir Griflet; and that there came besides these\nmany other knights of great renown.\n\nThese and many others gathered at the court of King Angus of Ireland, so\nthat all those meadows and fields coadjacent to the place of battle were\ngay as beds of flowers with the multitude of tents and pavilions of divers\ncolors that were there emplanted.\n\nAnd on the day of the tournament there came great crowds of people into the\nlists, so that all that place was alive with movement. For it was as though\na sea of people had arisen to overflow the seats and stalls thereof.\n\nNow that tournament was to last for three days, and upon the third day\nthere was to be a grand melee in which all these knights contestant were to\ntake stand upon this side or upon that.\n\nBut upon the first two of those three days Sir Tristram sat in the stall of\nthe King and looked down upon the jousting, for, because of the illness\nfrom which he had recovered, he was minded to save his body until the right\ntime should come, what time he should be called upon to do his uttermost.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Palamydes performeth wonders] And in those two days, Sir\nTristram beheld that Sir Palamydes did more wonderfully in battle than he\nwould have believed it possible for any knight to do. For Sir Palamydes was\naware that the eyes of the Lady Belle Isoult were gazing upon him,\nwherefore he felt himself uplifted to battle as with the strength of ten.\nWherefore he raged about that field like a lion of battle, seeking whom he\nmight overthrow and destroy. And upon the first day he challenged Sir\nGawaine to joust with him, and then he challenged Sir Gaheris, and the King\nof an Hundred Knights, and Sir Griflet, and Sir Sagramore le Desirous and\nfourteen other knights, and all of these he met and many he overcame, and\nthat without any mishap to himself. And upon the second day he met with\ngreat success Sir Agravaine and Sir Griflet and Sir Kay and Sir Dodinas and\ntwelve other knights. Wherefore those who beheld how he did gave great\nshouts and outcries of applause and acclaim, saying: \"Certes, there was\nnever knight in all of the world so great as this knight. Yea; even Sir\nLauncelot himself could not do more than that knight doeth.\"\n\nThen Belle Isoult was troubled in her mind, and she said: \"Tramtris, yonder\nin very truth is a most fierce and terrible knight. Now somewhiles I have\nfear that you may not be able to overcome him.\"\n\nThereat Sir Tristram smiled very grimly, and said: \"Lady, already I have\novercome in battle a bigger knight than ever Sir Palamydes has been or is\nlike to be.\" But the Lady Belle Isoult wist not that that knight of whom\nSir Tristram spake was Sir Marhaus of Ireland.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Palamydes bespeaks the Lady Belle Isoult] Now upon the\nevening of the second day of that tournament, Sir Palamydes came to where\nthe Lady Belle Isoult was, and he said: \"Lady, all these things I have done\nfor your sake. For had it not been for my love for you, I would not have\nbeen able to do a third part of that which I did. Now I think you should\nhave pity and regard for one who loves you so strongly as that; wherefore I\nbeseech you to bestow some part of your good-will upon me.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the Lady Belle Isoult, \"you are not to forget that there is\nstill another day of this battle, and in it you may not happen to have the\nsame fortune that favored you to-day; so I will wait until you have won\nthat battle also before I answer you.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Palamydes, \"you shall see that I shall do even more\nworthily to-morrow for your sake than I have done to-day.\"\n\nBut the Lady Belle Isoult was not very well pleased with that saying, for\nshe began again to fear that maybe the will of Sir Palamydes was so strong\nthat Sir Tristram would not have any success against him.\n\nSo came the third day of that very famous contest at arms, and when this\nmorning was come there began to gather together in the two parties those\nwho were to contest the one against the other. Of one of these parties, Sir\nPalamydes was the chiefest knight, and upon that side was also Sir Gawaine\nand several of the knights who were with him. For these said, \"There shall\ncertes be greater credit to be had with Sir Palamydes than against him,\"\nand so they joined them with his party. Of the other party the chiefest\nknights were the King of an Hundred Knights and the King of Scots, and both\nof these were very famous and well-approved champions, of high courage and\nremarkable achievements.\n\n[Sidenote: Belle Isoult arms Sir Tristram] Now when the time was nigh\nready for that tournament, Sir Tristram went to put on the armor that the\nLady Belle Isoult had provided him, and when he was armed he mounted very\nlightly upon the horse which she had given him. And the armor of Sir\nTristram was white, shining like to silver, and the horse was altogether\nwhite, and the furniture and trappings thereof were all white, so that Sir\nTristram glistened with extraordinary splendor.\n\nNow when he was armed and prepared in all ways, the Lady Belle Isoult came\nto where he was and she said, \"Tramtris, are you ready?\" And he answered\n\"Yea.\" Therewith she took the horse of Sir Tristram by the bridle and she\nled him to the postern gate of the castle, and put him out that way into a\nfair field that lay beyond; and Sir Tristram abided in the fields for some\nwhile until the tournament should have begun.\n\nBut the Lady Belle Isoult went to the tournament with her father, the King,\nand her mother, the Queen, and took her station at that place assigned to\nher whence she might overlook the field.\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Palamydes fought in the tournament] So in a little\nwhile that friendly battle began. And again Sir Palamydes was filled with\nthe vehement fury of contest, wherefore he raged about the field, spreading\nterror whithersoever he came. For first he made at the King of an Hundred\nKnights, and he struck that knight so direful a blow that both horse and\nman fell to the ground with the force thereof. Then in the same manner he\nstruck the King of Scots with his sword, and smote him straightway out of\nthe saddle also. Then he struck down one after another, seven other\nknights, all of well-proved strength and prowess, so that all those who\nlooked thereon cried out, \"Is he a man or is he a demon?\" So, because of\nthe terror of Sir Palamydes, all those in that contest bore away from him\nas they might do from a lion in anger.\n\nAt this time came Sir Tristram, riding at a free pace, shining like to a\nfigure of silver. Then many saw him and observed him and said to one\nanother: \"Who is this knight, and what party will he join with to do\nbattle?\" These had not long to wait to know what side he would join, for\nimmediately Sir Tristram took stand with that party which was the party of\nthe King of an Hundred Knights and the King of Scots, and at that the one\nparty was very glad, and the other party was sorry; for they deemed that\nSir Tristram was certes some great champion.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram enters the tournament] Then straightway there came\nagainst Sir Tristram four knights of the other party, and one of these was\nSir Gaheris, and another was Sir Griflet and another was Sir Bagdemagus and\nanother was Sir Kay. But Sir Tristram was possessed with a great joy of\nbattle, so that in a very short time he had struck down or overthrown all\nthose knights, beginning with Sir Gaheris, and ending with Sir Kay the\nseneschal.\n\nThis Sir Gawaine beheld, and said to Sir Sagramore: \"Yonder is certes a\nknight of terrible strength; now let us go and see of what mettle he be.\"\n\nTherewith Sir Gawaine pushed against Sir Tristram from the one side, and\nSir Sagramore came against him on the other side, and so they met him both\nat once. Then first Sir Gawaine struck Sir Tristram such a buffet that the\nhorse of Sir Tristram turned twice about with the force of that stroke; and\ntherewith Sir Sagramore smote him a buffet upon the other side so that Sir\nTristram wist not upon which side to defend himself.\n\nThen, at those blows Sir Tristram waxed so exceedingly fierce that it was\nas though a fire of rage flamed up into his brains and set them into a\nblaze of rage. So with that he rose up in his stirrups and launched so\ndreadful a blow upon Sir Gawaine that I believe nothing could have\nwithstood the force of that blow. For it clave through the shield of Sir\nGawaine and it descended upon the crown of his helmet and it clave away a\npart of his helmet and a part of the epauliere of his shoulder; and with\nthe force of that dreadful, terrible blow, Sir Gawaine fell down upon the\nground and lay there as though he were dead.\n\nThen Sir Tristram wheeled upon Sir Sagramore (who sat wonder-struck at that\nblow he had beheld) and thereafter he smote him too, so that he fell down\nand lay upon the ground in a swoon from which he did not recover for more\nthan two hours.\n\nNow Sir Palamydes also had beheld those two strokes that Sir Tristram had\ngiven, wherefore he said: \"Hah! Yonder is a very wonderful knight. Now if I\ndo not presently meet him, and that to my credit, he will have more honor\nin this battle than I.\"\n\nSo therewith Sir Palamydes pushed straight against Sir Tristram, and\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Palamydes rides against Sir Tristram] when Sir Tristram\nbeheld that he was very glad, for he said: \"Now it will either be Sir\nPalamydes his day, or else it will be mine.\" So he upon his part pushed\nagainst Sir Palamydes with good intent to engage him in battle, and then\nthey two met in the midst of the field.\n\nThen immediately Sir Palamydes smote Sir Tristram such a buffet that Sir\nTristram thought a bolt of lightning had burst upon him, and for a little\nwhile he was altogether bemazed and wist not where he was. But when he came\nto himself he was so filled with fury that his heart was like to break\ntherewith.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram smites Sir Palamydes] Thereupon he rushed upon Sir\nPalamydes and smote him again and again and again with such fury and\nstrength that Sir Palamydes was altogether stunned at the blows he received\nand bare back before them. Then Sir Tristram perceived how that Sir\nPalamydes bare his shield low because of the fierceness of that assault,\nand thereupon he rose up in his stirrups and struck Sir Palamydes upon the\ncrown of the helmet so dreadful a buffet that the brains of Sir Palamydes\nswam like water, and he must needs catch the pommel of his saddle to save\nhimself from falling. Then Sir Tristram smote him another buffet, and\ntherewith darkness came upon the sight of Sir Palamydes and he rolled off\nfrom his horse into the dust beneath its feet.\n\nThen all who beheld the encounter shouted very loud and with great\nvehemence, for it was the very best and most notable assault at arms that\nhad been performed in all that battle. But most of those who beheld that\nassault cried out \"The Silver Knight!\" For at that time no one but the Lady\nBelle Isoult wist who that silver knight was. But she wist very well who he\nwas, and was so filled with the glory of his prowess that she wept for joy\nthereof.\n\n[Sidenote: Belle Isoult declares Sir Tristram] Then the King of Ireland\nsaid: \"Who is yonder knight who hath so wonderfully overthrown Sir\nPalamydes? I had not thought there was any knight in the world so great as\nhe; but this must be some great champion whom none of us know.\" Upon that\nthe Lady Belle Isoult, still weeping for joy, could contain herself no\nlonger, but cried out: \"Sir, that is Tramtris, who came to us so nigh to\ndeath and who hath now done us so great honor being of our household! For I\nknew very well that he was no common knight but some mighty champion when I\nfirst beheld him.\"\n\nAt that the King of Ireland was very much astonished and overjoyed, and he\nsaid: \"If that is indeed so, then it is a very great honor for us all.\"\n\nNow after that assault Sir Tristram took no more part in that battle but\nwithdrew to one side. But he perceived where the esquires attendant upon\nSir Palamydes came to him and lifted him up and took him away. Then by and\nby he perceived that Sir Palamydes had mounted his horse again with intent\nto leave that meadow of battle, and in a little he saw Sir Palamydes ride\naway with his head bowed down like to one whose heart was broken.\n\nAll this Sir Tristram beheld and did not try to stay Sir Palamydes in his\ndeparture. But some while after Sir Palamydes had quitted that place, Sir\nTristram also took his departure, going in that same direction that Sir\nPalamydes had gone. Then after he had come well away from the meadow of\nbattle, Sir Tristram set spurs to his horse and rode at a hard gallop along\nthat way that Sir Palamydes had taken.\n\nSo he rode at such a gait for a considerable pass until, by and by, he\nperceived Sir Palamydes upon the road before him; and Sir Palamydes was at\nthat time come to the edge of a woods where there were several stone\nwindmills with great sails swinging very slowly around before a strong wind\nthat was blowing.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram overthrows Palamydes again] Now this was a lonely\nplace, and one very fit to do battle in, wherefore Sir Tristram cried out\nto Sir Palamydes in a loud voice: \"Sir Palamydes! Sir Palamydes! Turn you\nabout! For here is the chance for you to recover the honor that you have\nlost to me.\" Thereupon Sir Palamydes, hearing that loud voice, turned him\nabout. But when he beheld that the knight who called was he who had just\nnow wrought such shame upon him, he ground his teeth together with rage,\nand therewith drave his horse at Sir Tristram, drawing his sword so that it\nflashed like lightning in the bright sunlight. And when he came nigh to Sir\nTristram, he stood up in his stirrups and lashed a blow at him with all his\nmight and main; for he said to himself: \"Maybe I shall now recover mine\nhonor with one blow which I lost to this knight a while since.\" But Sir\nTristram put aside that blow of Sir Palamydes with his shield with very\ngreat skill and dexterity, and thereupon, recovering himself, he lashed at\nSir Palamydes upon his part. And at that first stroke Sir Tristram smote\ndown the shield of Sir Palamydes, and gave him such a blow upon the head\nthat Sir Palamydes fell down off his horse upon the earth. Then Sir\nTristram voided his own horse very quickly, and running to Sir Palamydes\nwhere he lay he plucked off his helmet with great violence. Therewith he\ncried out very fiercely: \"Sir Knight, yield thee to me, or I will slay\nthee.\" And therewithal he lifted up his sword as though to strike off the\nhead of Sir Palamydes.\n\nThen when Sir Palamydes saw Sir Tristram standing above him in that wise,\nhe dreaded his buffets so that he said: \"Sir Knight, I yield me to thee to\ndo thy commands, if so be thou wilt spare my life.\"\n\nThereupon Sir Tristram said, \"Arise,\" and at that Sir Palamydes got him up\nto his knees with some ado, and so remained kneeling before Sir Tristram.\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I believe you have saved your life by thus\nyielding yourself to me. Now this shall be my commandment upon you. First\nof all, my commandment is that you forsake the Lady Belle Isoult, and that\nyou do not come near her for the space of an entire year. And this is my\nsecond commandment; that from this day you do not assume the arms of\nknighthood for an entire year and a day.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Palamydes, \"why do you not slay me instead of bringing me\nto such shame as this! Would that I had died instead of yielding myself to\nyou as I did.\" And therewith he wept for shame and despite.\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"let that pass which was not done. For now you\nhave yielded yourself to me and these are my commands.\" So with that Sir\nTristram set his sword back again into its sheath, and he mounted his horse\nand rode away, leaving Sir Palamydes where he was.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Palamydes disarms himself] But after Sir Tristram had gone,\nSir Palamydes arose, weeping aloud. And he said: \"This is such shame to me\nthat I think there can be no greater shame.\" Thereupon he drew his\nmisericordia, and he cut the thongs of his harness and he tore the pieces\nof armor from off his body and flung them away very furiously, upon the\nright hand and upon the left. And when he had thus stripped himself of all\nof his armor, he mounted his horse and rode away into the forest, weeping\nlike one altogether brokenhearted.\n\nSo Sir Tristram drave Sir Palamydes away from the Lady Belle Isoult as he\nhad promised to do.\n\nNow when Tristram came back to the castle of the King of Ireland once more,\nhe thought to enter privily in by the postern-gate as he had gone out. But\nlo! instead of that he found a great party waiting for him before the\ncastle and these gave him loud acclaim, crying, \"Welcome, Sir Tramtris!\nWelcome, Sir Tramtris!\" And King Angus came forward and took the hand of\nSir Tristram, and he also said: \"Welcome, Sir Tramtris, for you have\nbrought us great honor this day!\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram chides Belle Isoult] But Sir Tristram looked at\nthe Lady the Belle Isoult with great reproach and by and by when they were\ntogether he said: \"Lady, why did you betray me who I was when you had\npromised me not to do so?\" \"Sir,\" she said, \"I meant not to betray you, but\nin the joy of your victory I know not very well what I said.\" \"Well,\" said\nSir Tristram, \"God grant that no harm come of it.\" She said, \"What harm can\ncome of it, Messire?\" Sir Tristram said: \"I may not tell you, Lady, but I\nfear that harm will come of it.\"\n\nAnon the Queen of Ireland came and said: \"Tramtris, one so nigh to death as\nyou have been should not so soon have done battle as you have done. Now I\nwill have a bain prepared and you shall bathe therein, for you are not yet\nhale and strong.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" said Tristram, \"I do not need any bain, for I believe I am now\nstrong and well in all wise.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Queen, \"you must have that bain so that no ill may come to\nyou hereafter from this battle which you have fought.\"\n\nSo she had that bain prepared of tepid water, and it was very strong and\npotent with spices and powerful herbs of divers sorts. And when that bain\nwas prepared, Sir Tristram undressed and entered the bath, and the Queen\nand the Lady Belle Isoult were in the adjoining chamber which was his\nbed-chamber.\n\n[Sidenote: The Queen of Ireland beholds Sir Tristram's sword] Now whilst\nSir Tristram was in that bath, the Queen and Belle Isoult looked all about\nhis chamber. And they beheld the sword of Sir Tristram where it lay, for he\nhad laid it upon the bed when he had unlatched the belt to make himself\nready for that bath. Then the Queen said to the Lady Belle Isoult, \"See\nwhat a great huge sword this is,\" and thereupon she lifted it and drew the\nblade out of its sheath, and she beheld what a fair, bright, glistering\nsword it was. Then in a little she saw where, within about a foot and a\nhalf from the point, there was a great piece in the shape of a half-moon\nbroken out of the edge of the sword; and she looked at that place for a\nlong while. Then of a sudden she felt a great terror, for she remembered\nhow even such a piece of sword as that which had been broken off from that\nblade, she had found in the wound of Sir Marhaus of which he had died. So\nshe stood for a while holding that sword of Sir Tristram in her hand and\nlooking as she had been turned into stone. At this the Lady Belle Isoult\nwas filled with a sort of fear, wherefore she said, \"Lady, what ails you?\"\nThe Queen said, \"Nothing that matters,\" and therewith she laid aside the\nsword of Sir Tristram and went very quickly to her own chamber. There she\nopened her cabinet and took thence the piece of sword-blade which she had\ndrawn from the wound of Sir Marhaus, and which she had kept ever since.\nWith this she hurried back to the chamber of Sir Tristram, and fitted that\npiece of the blade to the blade; and lo! it fitted exactly, and without\nflaw.\n\n[Sidenote: The Queen assails Sir Tristram] Upon that the Queen was seized\nas with a sudden madness; for she shrieked out in a very loud voice,\n\"Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!\" saying that word three times. Therewith she\nsnatched up the sword of Sir Tristram and she ran with great fury into the\nroom where he lay in his bath. And she beheld him where he was there all\nnaked in his bath, and therewith she rushed at him and lashed at him with\nhis sword. But Sir Tristram threw himself to one side and so that blow\nfailed of its purpose. Then the Queen would have lashed at him again or\nhave thrust him through with the weapon; but at that Gouvernail and Sir\nHelles ran to her and catched her and held her back, struggling and\nscreaming very violently. So they took the sword away from her out of her\nhands, and all the while she shrieked like one gone entirely distracted.\n\nThen as soon as Gouvernail and Sir Helles loosed her, she ran very\nviolently out of that room with great outcry of screaming, and so to King\nAngus and flung herself upon her knees before him, crying out: \"Justice!\nJustice! I have found that man who slew my brother! I beseech of you that\nyou will deal justice upon him.\"\n\nThen King Angus rose from where he sat, and he said: \"Where is that man?\nBring me to him.\" And the Queen said: \"It is Tramtris, who hath come hither\nunknown unto this place.\"\n\nKing Angus said: \"Lady, what is this you tell me? I cannot believe that\nwhat you say is true.\" Upon this the Queen cried out: \"Go yourself, Lord,\nand inquire, and find out how true it is.\"\n\nThen King Angus rose, and went forth from that place, and he went to the\nchamber of Sir Tristram. And there he found that Sir Tristram had very\nhastily dressed himself and had armed himself in such wise as he was able.\nThen King Angus came to Tristram, and he said: \"How is this, that I find\nthee armed? Art thou an enemy to my house?\" And Tristram wept, and said:\n\"Nay, Lord, I am not your enemy, but your friend, for I have great love for\nyou and for all that is yours, so that I would be very willing to do battle\nfor you even unto death if so be I were called upon to do so.\"\n\nThen King Angus said: \"If that is so, how is it that I find thee here armed\nas if for battle, with thy sword in thy hand?\" \"Lord,\" said Sir Tristram,\n\"although I be friends with you and yours, yet I know not whether you be\nfriends or enemies unto me; wherefore I have prepared myself so that I may\nsee what is your will with me, for I will not have you slay me without\ndefence upon my part.\" Then King Angus said: \"Thou speakest in a very\nfoolish way, for how could a single knight hope to defend himself against\nmy whole household? Now I bid thee tell me who thou art, and what is thy\nname, and why thou earnest hither knowing that thou hadst slain my\nbrother?\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram confesses to King Angus] Then Sir Tristram said,\n\"Lord, I will tell thee all the truth.\" And therewith he confessed\neverything to King Angus, to wit: who was his father and his mother, and\nhow he was born and reared; how he fought Sir Marhaus, and for what reason;\nand of how he came hither to be healed of his wound, from which else he\nmust die in very grievous pain. And he said: \"All this is truth, Lord, and\nit is truth that I had no ill-will against Sir Marhaus; for I only stood to\ndo battle with him for the sake of mine uncle, King Mark of Cornwall, and\nto enhance mine own honor; and I took my fortune with him as he took his\nwith me. Moreover, I fought with Sir Marhaus upon the same day that I was\nmade knight, and that was the first battle which I fought, and in that\nbattle I was wounded so sorely that I was like to die as you very well\nknow. As for him, he was a knight well-tried and seasoned with many\nbattles, and he suffered by no treachery but only with the fortune of war.\"\n\nSo King Angus listened to all that Sir Tristram said, and when he had\nended, quoth he: \"As God sees me, Tristram, I cannot deny that you did with\nSir Marhaus as a true knight should. For it was certes your part to take\nthe cause of your uncle upon you if you had the heart to do so, and it was\ntruly a real knightly thing for you who were so young to seek honor at the\nhands of so famous a knight as Sir Marhaus. For I do not believe that until\nyou came his way there was any knight in the world who was greater than he,\nunless it were Sir Launcelot of the Lake. Wherefore, from that, and from\nwhat I saw you do at the tournament, some time ago, I believe that you are\none of the strongest knights in the world, and the peer of Sir Launcelot,\nor of anybody else.\n\n\"But though all this is true, nevertheless it will not be possible for me\nto maintain you in this country, for if I keep you here I shall greatly\ndisplease not only the Queen and her kin, but many of those lords and\nknights who were kin to Sir Marhaus or who were united to him in pledges of\nfriendship. So you must even save yourself as you can and leave here\nstraightway, for I may not help or aid you in any way.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram said: \"Lord, I thank you for your great kindness unto me,\nand I know not how I shall repay the great goodness that my Lady Belle\nIsoult hath showed to me. For I swear to you upon the pommel of my sword\nwhich I now hold up before me that I would lay down my life for her sake.\nYea, and my honor too! for she hath the entire love of my heart, so that I\nwould willingly die for her, or give up for her all that I have in the\nworld. Now as for my knighthood, I do believe that I shall in time become a\nknight of no small worship, for I feel within my heart that this shall be\nso. So if my life be spared, it may be that you will gain more having me\nfor your friend and your true servant than you will by taking my life in\nthis outland place. For whithersoever I go I give you my knightly word that\nI shall be your daughter's servant, and that I shall ever be her true\nknight in right or in wrong, and that I shall never fail her if I shall be\ncalled upon to do her service.\"\n\nThen King Angus meditated upon this for a while, and he said: \"Tristram,\nwhat thou sayest is very well said, but how shall I get you away from this\nplace in safety?\"\n\nSir Tristram said: \"Lord, there is but one way to get me away with credit\nunto yourself. Now I beseech you of your grace that I may take leave of my\nlady your daughter, and that I may then take leave of all your knights and\nkinsmen as a right knight should. And if there be any among them who\nchooses to stop me or to challenge my going, then I must face that one at\nmy peril, however great it may be.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said King Angus, \"that is a very knightly way to behave, and so it\nshall be as you will have it.\"\n\nSo Sir Tristram went down stairs to a certain chamber where Belle Isoult\nwas. And he went straight to her and took her by the hand; and he said:\n\"Lady, I am to go away from this place, if I may do so with credit to my\nhonor; but before I go I must tell you that I shall ever be your own true\nknight in all ways that a knight may serve a lady. For no other lady shall\nhave my heart but you, so I shall ever be your true knight. Even though I\nshall haply never see your face again, yet I shall ever carry your face\nwith me in my heart, and the thought of you shall always abide with me\nwithersoever I go.\"\n\nAt this the Lady Belle Isoult fell to weeping in great measure, and thereat\nthe countenance of Sir Tristram also was all writhed with passion, and he\nsaid, \"Lady, do not weep so!\" She said, \"Alas I cannot help it!\" Then he\nsaid: \"Lady, you gave me my life when I thought I was to lose it, and you\nbrought me back from pain unto ease, and from sorrow unto joy. Would God I\nwere suffering all those pangs as aforetime, so that there might be no more\ntears upon your face.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram parts from Belle Isoult] Then, King Angus being\nby, he took her face into his hands and kissed her upon the forehead, and\nthe eyes, and the lips. Therewith he turned and went away, all bedazed with\nhis sorrow, and feeling for the latch of the door ere he was able to find\nit and go out from that place.\n\nAfter that Sir Tristram went straight unto the hall of the castle, and\nthere he found a great many of the lords of the castle and knights\nattendant upon the King. For the news of these things had flown fast, and\nmany of them were angry and some were doubtful. But Tristram came in very\nboldly, clad all in full armor, and when he stood in the midst of them he\nspoke loud and with great courage, saying: \"If there be any man here whom I\nhave offended in any way, let him speak, and I will give him entire\nsatisfaction whoever he may be. But let such speech be now or never, for\nhere is my body to make good my knighthood against the body of any man,\nwhomsoever he may be.\"\n\nAt this all those knights who were there stood still and held their peace,\nand no man said anything against Sir Tristram (although there were several\nknights and lords who were kin to the Queen), for the boldness of Tristram\noverawed them, and no one had the heart to answer him.\n\nSo after a little while Sir Tristram left that place, without turning his\nhead to see if any man followed him.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram departs from Ireland] So he left that castle and\nGouvernail went with him, and no one stopped him in his going. After that,\nhe and Gouvernail came to the shore and took a boat and they came to the\nship of Sir Tristram, and so they sailed away from Ireland. But the heart\nof Sir Tristram was so full of sorrow that he wished a great many times\nthat he was dead.\n\nSo Sir Tristram, though as to his body he was very whole and sound, was, as\nto his spirit, very ill at ease; for though he was so well and suffered no\npain, yet it appeared to him that all the joy of his life had been left\nbehind him, so that he could nevermore have any more pleasure in this world\nwhich lieth outside of the walls of Paradise.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Tristram harpeth before King Mark]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Fifth\n\n\n_How Sir Tristram was sent by command of King Mark to go to Ireland to\nbring the Lady the Belle Isoult from Ireland to Cornwall and how it fared\nwith him._\n\nSo Sir Tristram came back again to Cornwall, and King Mark and all the\nknights and lords of the court of the King gave him great welcome and made\nmuch joy over him because he had returned safely.\n\nBut Sir Tristram took no joy in their joy because he was filled with such\nheavy melancholy that it was as though even the blue sky had turned to\nsackcloth to his eyes, so that he beheld nothing bright in all the world.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram tells of the Lady Bell Isoult] But though he had\nno great pleasure in life, yet Sir Tristram made many very good songs about\nBelle Isoult; about her beauty and her graciousness; about how he was her\nsad, loving knight; about how he was pledged unto her to be true to her all\nof his life even though he might never hope to see her again.\n\nThese like words he would sing to the music of his shining, golden harp,\nand King Mark loved to listen to him. And sometimes King Mark would sigh\nvery deeply and maybe say: \"Messire, that lady of thine must in sooth be a\nvery wonderful, beautiful, gracious lady.\" And Sir Tristram would say,\n\"Yea, she is all that.\"\n\nSo it was at that time that King Mark had great love for Sir Tristram; in a\nlittle while all that was very different, and his love was turned to bitter\nhate, as you shall presently hear tell.\n\nNow in those days the knights of Cornwall were considered to be the least\nworthy of all knights in that part of the world, for they had so little\nskill and prowess at arms that they were a jest and a laughing-stock to\nmany courts of chivalry. It was said of them that a knight-champion of\nCornwall was maybe a knight, but certes was no champion at all; and this\nwas great shame to all those of Cornwall, more especially as that saying\nwas in a great measure true.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Bleoberis comes to Cornwall] One day there came to the\ncourt of Cornwall a very noble, haughty knight, hight Sir Bleoberis de\nGanys, who was brother to Sir Blamor de Ganys and right cousin to Sir\nLauncelot of the Lake. This knight was a fellow of King Arthur's Round\nTable, and so he was received with great honor at Cornwall, and much joy\nwas taken of his being there; for it was not often that knights of such\nrepute as he came to those parts. At that time Sir Tristram was not present\nat the court, having gone hunting into the forest, but a messenger was sent\nto him with news that Sir Bleoberis was present at the court of the King\nand that King Mark wished him to be at court also.\n\nNow whilst Sir Tristram was upon his way to return to the court in\nobedience to these commands, there was held a feast at the castle of the\nKing in honor of Sir Bleoberis. There was much strong wine drunk at that\nfeast, so that the brains of Sir Bleoberis and of others grew very much\nheated therewith. Then, what with the heat of the wine and the noise and\ntumult of the feast, Sir Bleoberis waxed very hot-headed, and boastful. So,\nbeing in that condition and not knowing very well how he spake, he made\ngreat boast of the prowess of the knights of King Arthur's court above\nthose of Cornwall. And in this boastful humor he said: \"It is perfectly\ntrue that one single knight of the Round Table is the peer of twenty\nknights of Cornwall, for so it is said and so I maintain it to be.\"\n\nUpon that there fell a silence over all that part of the feast, for all the\nknights and lords who were there heard what Sir Bleoberis said, and yet no\none knew how to reply to him. As for King Mark, he looked upon Sir\nBleoberis, smiling very sourly, and as though with great distaste of his\nwords, and he said: \"Messire, inasmuch as thou art our guest, and sitting\nhere at feast with us, it is not fit that we should take thy words\nseriously; else what thou sayst might be very easily disproved.\"\n\nUpon this the blood rushed with great violence into the face and head of\nSir Bleoberis, and he laughed very loud. Then he said: \"Well, Lord, it need\nnot be that I should be a guest here very long. And as for what I say, you\nmay easily put the truth thereof to the proof.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Bleoberis challenges the knights of Cornwall] Therewith Sir\nBleoberis arose and looked about him, and he perceived that there was near\nby where he stood a goblet of gold very beautifully chased and cunningly\ncarved. This Sir Bleoberis took into his hand, and it was half full of red\nwine. So he stood up before them all, and he cried in a very loud voice:\n\"Messires, and all you knights of Cornwall, here I drink to your more\nexcellent courage and prowess, and wish that you may have better fortune in\narms than you have heretofore proved yourselves to have?\" And therewith he\ndrank all the wine that was in the goblet. Then he said: \"Now I go away\nfrom here and take this goblet with me; and if any knight of Cornwall may\ntake it away from me and bring it back again to the King, then I am very\nwilling to own that there are better knights in this country than I\nsupposed there to be.\" Therewith he turned and went out from that place\nvery haughtily and scornfully, taking that goblet with him, and not one of\nall those knights who were there made any move to stay him, or to reprove\nhim for his discourteous speech.\n\nNow after he had come out of the hall and into the cool of the air, the\nheat of the wine soon left him, and he began to repent him of what he had\ndone; and he said: \"Alas! meseems I was not very courteous to King Mark,\nwho was mine host.\" So for a while he was minded to take that goblet back\nagain and make amends for what he had said; but afterward he could not do\nthis because of his pride. So he went to the chamber that had been allotted\nto him and clad himself in his armor, and after that he rode away from the\ncourt of King Mark carrying the goblet with him.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram is angry] Now some while after he had gone, Sir\nTristram came into the hall where the others were, and there he found them\nall sitting with ill countenances, and no man daring, for shame, to look at\nhis fellow. So Sir Tristram came to King Mark and said: \"Where is Sir\nBleoberis?\" And King Mark said, \"He is gone away.\" Sir Tristram said, \"Why\ndid he go?\" Thereupon King Mark told Sir Tristram of what had befallen, and\nhow Sir Bleoberis had taken away that goblet to the great shame and scorn\nof all those who were there. Upon this the blood flew very violently into\nSir Tristram's face, and he said: \"Was there no knight here with spirit\nenough to call reproof upon Sir Bleoberis, or to stay him in his going?\"\nTherewith he looked all about that hall, and he was like a lion standing\namong them, and no man dared to look him in the face or to reply to him.\nThen he said: \"Well, if there is no knight in Cornwall who hath the will to\ndefend his King, then is there a knight of Lyonesse who will do so because\nhe received knighthood at the hands of the King of Cornwall.\" And therewith\nhe turned and went away, and left them very haughtily, and they were all\nstill more abashed than they had been before.\n\nThen Sir Tristram went to his chamber and had himself armed in all wise;\nand he took his horse and mounted and rode away in the direction that Sir\nBleoberis had gone, and Gouvernail went with him.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram follows Sir Bleoberis] So Sir Tristram and\nGouvernail rode at a good pace for a long time, making inquiry of\nwhomsoever they met if Sir Bleoberis had passed that way. At last they\nentered the forest and rode therein a great way, meeting no one till toward\nthe latter part of the afternoon. By and by they saw before them two\nknights, very large and strong of frame and clad all in bright and shining\narmor, and each riding a great war-horse of Flemish strain.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram comes to two knights] \"Gouvernail,\" said Sir\nTristram, \"ride forward apace and see for me who are yonder knights.\" So\nGouvernail rode forward at a gallop, and so, in a little, came near enough\nto the two knights to see the devices upon their shields. Upon that he\nreturned to Sir Tristram, and said: \"Messire, those are two very famous\nworthy knights of King Arthur's Court, and of the two you are acquainted\nwith one, but the other is a stranger to you. For the one is Sir Sagramore\nle Desirous, who was at that tournament in Ireland, and the other is Sir\nDodinas le Sauvage.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"those are indeed two very good, worthy knights.\nNow if you will sit here for a while, I will go forward and have speech\nwith them.\" \"Messire,\" said Gouvernail, \"I would counsel you not to have to\ndo with those knights, for there are hardly any knights more famous at arms\nthan they, so it is not likely that you can have success of them if you\nshould assay them.\"\n\nBut to this Sir Tristram said: \"Peace, Gouvernail! Hold thy peace, and bide\nhere while I go forward!\"\n\nNow those knights when they became aware that Sir Tristram and Gouvernail\nwere there, had halted at a clear part of the woodland to await what should\nbefall. Unto them Sir Tristram came, riding with great dignity and\nhaughtiness, and when he had come nigh enough he drew rein and spoke with\ngreat pride of bearing, saying: \"Messires, I require of you to tell me\nwhence you come, and whither you go, and what you do in these marches?\"\n\nUnto him Sir Sagramore made reply, speaking very scornfully: \"Fair knight,\nare you a knight of Cornwall?\" and Sir Tristram said: \"Why do you ask me\nthat?\" \"Messire,\" said Sir Sagramore, \"I ask you that because it hath\nseldom been heard tell that a Cornish knight hath courage to call upon two\nknights to answer such questions as you have asked of us.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"for the matter of that, I am at this present a\nknight of Cornwall, and I hereby let you know that you shall not go away\nfrom here unless you either answer my question or give me satisfaction at\narms.\"\n\nThen Sir Dodinas spoke very fiercely, saying: \"Sir Cornish knight, you\nshall presently have all the satisfaction at arms that you desire and a\ngreat deal more than you desire.\" Therewith he took a very stout spear in\nhis hand and rode to a little distance, and Sir Tristram, beholding his\nintent to do battle, also rode to a little distance, and took stand in such\na place as seemed to him to be best. Then, when they were in all wise\nprepared, they rushed together with such astonishing vehemence that the\nearth shook and trembled beneath them.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram does battle with Sir Dodinas] Therewith they met\nin the middle of their course with a great uproar of iron and wood. But in\nthat onset the spear of Sir Dodinas broke into a great many small pieces,\nbut the spear of Sir Tristram held, so that in the encounter he lifted Sir\nDodinas entirely out of his saddle, and out behind the crupper of his\nhorse. And he flung Sir Dodinas down so violently that his neck was nearly\nbroken, and he lay for a while in a deep swoon like one who has been struck\ndead.\n\nThen Sir Sagramore said: \"Well, Sir Knight, that was certes a very great\nbuffet that you gave my fellow, but now it is my turn to have ado with\nyou.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram does battle with Sir Sagramore] So therewith he\ntook also his spear in hand and chose his station for an assault as Sir\nDodinas had done, and Sir Tristram also took station as he had done before.\nThen immediately they two ran together with the same terrible force that\nSir Tristram and Sir Dodinas had coursed, and in that encounter Sir\nTristram struck Sir Sagramore so direful a buffet with his spear that he\noverthrew both horse and man, and the horse, falling upon Sir Sagramore, so\nbruised his leg that he could not for a while arise from where he lay.\n\nTherewith Sir Tristram, having run his course, came back to where those two\nknights lay upon the ground, and he said, \"Fair Knights, will you have any\nmore fighting?\" They said, \"No, we have had fighting enough.\" Then Sir\nTristram said: \"I pray you, tell me, are there any bigger knights at the\ncourt of King Arthur than you? If it is not so, then I should think you\nwould take great shame to yourselves that you have been overthrown the one\nafter the other by a single knight. For this day a knight of Cornwall hath\nassuredly matched you both to your great despite.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram acknowledges his degree] Then Sir Sagramore said:\n\"Sir, I pray you upon your true knighthood to tell us who you are, for you\nare assuredly one of the greatest knights in the world.\" Upon this Sir\nTristram laughed, \"Nay,\" quoth he, \"I am as yet a young knight, who has had\nbut little proof in battle. As for my name, since you ask it of me, upon my\nknighthood I am not ashamed to tell you that I am hight Sir Tristram, and\nthat I am King Meliadus' son of Lyonesse.\"\n\n\"Ha!\" said Sir Sagramore, \"if that be so, then there is little shame in\nbeing overthrown by you. For not only do I well remember how at the court\nof the King of Ireland you overthrew six knights of the Round Table, and\nhow easily you overthrew Sir Palamydes the Saracen, but it is also very\nwell known how you did battle with Sir Marhaus, and of how you overcame\nhim. Now Sir Marhaus and Sir Palamydes were two of the best knights in the\nworld, so it is not astonishing that you should have done as you did with\nus. But, since you have overthrown us, what is it you would have us do?\"\n\n\"Messires,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I have only to demand two things of you.\nOne of them is that you give me your word that you will go to Cornwall and\nconfess to King Mark that you have been overthrown by a Cornish knight; and\nthe second thing is that you tell me if you saw Sir Bleoberis de Ganys pass\nthis way?\"\n\nThey say: \"Messire, touching that demand you make upon us to go to King\nMark and to confess our fall, that we will do as you desire; and as for Sir\nBleoberis, we met him only a short while ago, and he cannot even now be\nvery far from this place.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I give you good den, and thank you for your\ninformation. I have some words to say to Sir Bleoberis before he leave\nthese marches.\"\n\nSo thereafter he called Gouvernail, and they two rode into the forest and\non their way as fast as they were able. As for Sir Dodinas and Sir\nSagramore, they betook their course to the court of King Mark, as they had\npromised to do.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram comes to Sir Bleoberis] Now, by and by, after Sir\nTristram and Gouvernail had gone some considerable distance farther upon\nthat road, they beheld Sir Bleoberis before them in a forest path, riding\nvery proudly and at an easy pass upon his way. At that time the sun was\nsetting very low toward the earth, so that all the tops of the forest trees\nwere aflame with a very ruddy light, though all below in the forest was\nboth cool and gray. Now when Sir Tristram and Gouvernail with him had come\npretty nigh to Sir Bleoberis, Sir Tristram called to him in a very loud\nvoice, and bade him turn and stand. Therewith Sir Bleoberis turned about\nand waited for Sir Tristram to come up with him. And when Sir Tristram was\ncome near by, he said to Sir Bleoberis: \"Messire, I hear tell that you have\nwith you a very noble goblet which you have taken in a shameful way from\nthe table of King Mark of Cornwall. Now I demand of you that you give me\nthat goblet to take back unto the King again.\" \"Well,\" said Sir Bleoberis,\n\"you shall freely have that goblet if you can take it from me, and if you\nwill look, you will see where it hangs here from my saddle-horn. But I may\ntell you that I do not believe that there is any Cornish knight who may\ntake away that goblet against my will.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said Sir Tristram, \"we shall see in a little while how it\nmay be.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram overcometh Sir Bleoberis] Therewith each knight\ntook his spear in hand and rode a little distance away, and made himself in\nall wise ready for the assault. Then when they were in all ways prepared,\neach launched himself against the other, coming together with such violence\nthat sparks of fire flew out from the points of their spears. And in that\nassault the horse of each knight was overthrown, but each knight voided his\nsaddle and leaped very lightly to earth, without either having had a fall.\nThen each drew his sword and set his shield before him, and therewith came\ntogether, foining and lashing with all the power of their might. Each gave\nthe other many sore strokes, so that the armor of each was indented in\nseveral places and in other places was stained with red. Then at last Sir\nTristram waxed very wode with anger and he rushed at Sir Bleoberis, smiting\nhim so fiercely that Sir Bleoberis bare back and held his shield low before\nhim. This Sir Tristram perceived, and therewith, rushing in upon Sir\nBleoberis, he smote that knight such a great buffet upon the head that Sir\nBleoberis fell down upon his knees, without having strength to keep his\nfeet. Then Sir Tristram rushed off the helmet of Sir Bleoberis, and he\nsaid, \"Sir Knight, yield to me or I shall slay you.\"\n\n\"Messire,\" said Sir Bleoberis, \"I yield myself to you, and indeed you are\nas right a knight as ever I met in all of my life.\" Then Sir Tristram took\nSir Bleoberis by the hand and he lifted him up upon his feet, and he said:\n\"Sir, I am very sorry for to have had to do with you in this fashion, for\nalmost would I rather that you should have overcome me than that I should\nhave overcome you. For I do not at any time forget that you are cousin unto\nSir Launcelot of the Lake, and I honor Sir Launcelot above all men else in\nthe world, and would rather have his friendship than that of any man\nliving. So I have had no despite against you in this battle, but have only\nfought with you because it behooved me to do so for the sake of the King of\nCornwall, who is my uncle.\"\n\nThen Sir Bleoberis said, \"Messire, I pray you tell me who you are?\" \"Lord,\"\nsaid Sir Tristram, \"I am a very young knight hight Tristram, and I am the\nson of King Meliadus of Lyonesse and the Lady Elizabeth, sister unto King\nMark of Cornwall.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Bleoberis gives the goblet to Sir Tristram] \"Ha,\" said Sir\nBleoberis, \"I have heard great report of you, Sir Tristram, and now I know\nat mine own cost that you are one of the best knights in the world. Yea; I\nhave no doubt that at some time you will be the peer of Sir Launcelot of\nthe Lake himself, or of Sir Lamorak of Gales, and they two are, certes, the\nbest knights in the world. Now I believe that I would have given you this\ngoblet, even without your having to fight for it, had I known who you were;\nand as it is I herewith give it to you very freely.\"\n\nSo Sir Bleoberis untied the goblet from where it hung at his saddle-bow,\nand Sir Tristram took the goblet and gave him gramercy for it; and\ntherewith having recovered their horses, each knight mounted, and betook\nhis way whither he was going.\n\nSo a little after nightfall Sir Tristram came to the King of Cornwall and\nhis court, and he said to King Mark: \"Here is your goblet which I have\nbrought back to you; and I would God that some of your knights who are so\nmuch older than I had the courage to do for you what I have had to do.\" And\ntherewith he went away and left them all sitting ashamed.\n\nNow it chanced some little while after these things happened as aforesaid,\nthat King Mark lay down upon his couch after his midday meal for to sleep a\nlittle space during the heat of the day; and it likewise happened that the\nwindow near by where he lay was open so that the air might come into the\nroom. Now at that time three knights of the court sat in the garden beneath\nwhere the window was. These knights talked to one another concerning Sir\nTristram, and of how he had brought back that goblet from Sir Bleoberis de\nGanys, and of what honor it was to have such a champion in Cornwall for to\nstand for the honor of that court. In their talk they said to one another\nthat if only the King of Cornwall were such a knight as Sir Tristram, then\nthere would be plenty of knights of good worth who would come to that\ncourt, and Cornwall would no longer have to be ashamed of its chivalry as\nit was nowadays. So they said: \"Would God our King were such a knight as\nSir Tristram!\"\n\n[Sidenote: King Mark takes hatred to Sir Tristram] All this King Mark\noverheard, and the words that they said were like a very bitter poison in\nhis heart. For their words entered into his soul and abided there, and\nthereupon at that same hour all his love for Tristram was turned into hate.\nThus it befell that, after that day, King Mark ever pondered and pondered\nupon that which he had heard, and the longer he pondered it, the more\nbitter did his life become to him, and the more he hated Sir Tristram. So\nit came to pass that whenever he was with Sir Tristram and looked upon him,\nhe would say in his heart: \"So they say that you are a better knight than\nI? Would God you were dead or away from this place, for I believe that some\nday you will be my undoing!\" Yea; there were times when he would look upon\nSir Tristram in that wise and whisper to himself: \"Would God would send a\nblight upon thee, so that thou wouldst wither away!\"\n\nBut always the King dissembled this hatred for Sir Tristram, so that no one\nsuspected him thereof; least of all did Sir Tristram suspect how changed\nwas the heart of the King toward him.\n\nNow one day Sir Tristram was playing upon his harp and singing before King\nMark, and the King sat brooding upon these things as he gazed at Tristram.\nAnd Sir Tristram, as he ofttimes did nowadays, sang of the Lady Belle\nIsoult, and of how her face was like to a rose for fairness, and of how her\nsoul was like to a nightingale in that it uplifted the spirit of whosoever\nwas near her even though the darkness of sorrow as of night might envelop\nhim. And whilst Sir Tristram sang thus, King Mark listened to him, and as\nhe listened a thought entered his heart and therewith he smiled. So when\nSir Tristram had ended his song of the Belle Isoult, King Mark said: \"Fair\nnephew, I would that you would undertake a quest for me.\" Sir Tristram\nsaid, \"What quest is that, Lord?\" \"Nay,\" said King Mark, \"I will not tell\nyou what quest it is unless you will promise me upon your knighthood to\nundertake it upon my behalf.\" Then Sir Tristram suspected no evil,\nwherefore he smiled and said: \"Dear Lord, if the quest is a thing that it\nis in my power to undertake, I will undertake it upon your asking, and unto\nthat I pledge my knighthood.\" King Mark said, \"It is a quest that you may\nundertake.\" Sir Tristram said, \"Then I will undertake it, if you will tell\nme what it is.\"\n\n[Sidenote: King Mark betrays Sir Tristram to a promise] King Mark said: \"I\nhave listened to your singing for this long while concerning the Lady Belle\nIsoult. So the quest I would have you undertake is this: that you go to\nIreland, and bring thence the Lady Belle Isoult to be my Queen. For because\nof your songs and ballads I have come to love her so greatly that I believe\nthat I shall have no happiness in life until I have her for my Queen. So\nnow, since you have pledged me your word upon your knighthood to do my\nbidding in this case, such is the quest that I would send you upon.\" And\ntherewith he smiled upon Sir Tristram very strangely.\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Tristram fell into despair] Then Sir Tristram perceived\nhow he had been betrayed and he put aside his harp and rose from where he\nsat. And he gazed for a long while at King Mark, and his countenance was\nwonderfully white like that of a dead man. Then by and by he said: \"Sir, I\nknow not why you have put this upon me, nor do I know why you have betrayed\nme. For I have ever served you truly as a worthy knight and a kinsman\nshould. Wherefore I know not why you have done this unto me, nor why you\nseek to compass my death. For you know very well that if I return to\nIreland I shall very likely be slain either by the Queen or by some of her\nkindred, because that for your sake I slew in battle Sir Marhaus, the\nQueen's brother of Ireland. Yet, so far as that is concerned, I would\nrather lose my life than succeed in this quest, for if so be I do not lose\nmy life, then I must do that which I would liever die than do. Yea; I\nbelieve that there was never any knight loved a lady as I love the Lady\nBelle Isoult. For I love her not only because of her beauty and\ngraciousness, but because she healed mine infirmities and lent ease unto my\ngreat sufferings and brought me back from death unto life. Wherefore that\nwhich you bid me fulfil is more bitter to me than death.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said King Mark, \"I know nothing of all this--only I know that you\nhave given me your knightly word to fulfil this quest.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"if God will give me His good help in this\nmatter, then I will do that which I have pledged my knighthood to\nundertake.\" Therewith he turned and went out from that place in such great\ndespair that it was as though his heart had been turned into ashes. But\nKing Mark was filled with joy that he should have caused Sir Tristram all\nthat pain, and he said to his heart: \"This is some satisfaction for the\nhate which I feel for this knight; by and by I shall maybe have greater\nsatisfaction than that.\"\n\nAfter that Sir Tristram did not come any more where King Mark was, but he\nwent straight away from the King's court and into a small castle that King\nMark had given him some while since for his own. There he abided for\nseveral days in great despair of soul, for it seemed to him as though God\nhad deserted him entirely. There for a while Gouvernail alone was with him\nand no one else, but after a while several knights came to him and gave him\ngreat condolence and offered to join with him as his knights-companion. And\nthere were eighteen of these knights, and Sir Tristram was very glad of\ntheir comradeship.\n\nThese said to him: \"Sir, you should not lend yourself to such great travail\nof soul, but should bend yourself as a true knight should to assume that\nburden that God hath assigned you to bear.\"\n\nSo they spoke, and by and by Sir Tristram aroused himself from his despair\nand said to himself: \"Well, what these gentlemen say is true, and God hath\nassuredly laid this very heavy burden upon me; as that is so, I must needs\nassume it for His sake.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram departs from Cornwall] So Sir Tristram and the\nknights who were with him abode in that place for a day or two or three,\nand then one morning Sir Tristram armed himself and they armed themselves,\nand all took their departure from that castle and went down to the sea.\nThen they took ship with intent to depart to Ireland upon that quest Sir\nTristram had promised King Mark he would undertake, and in a little they\nhoisted sail and departed from Cornwall for Ireland.\n\nBut they were not to make their quest upon that pass so speedily as they\nthought, for, upon the second day of their voyaging, there arose a great\nstorm of wind of such a sort that the sailors of that ship had never seen\nthe like thereof in all of their lives. For the waves rose up like\nmountains, and anon the waters sank away into deep valleys with hills of\nwater upon either side all crested over with foam as white as snow. And\nanon that ship would be uplifted as though the huge sea would toss it into\nthe clouds; and anon it would fall down into a gulf so deep that it\nappeared as though the green waters would swallow it up entirely. The air\nroared as though it were full of demons and evil spirits out of hell, and\nthe wind was wet and very bitter with brine. So the ship fled away before\nthat tempest, and the hearts of all aboard were melted with fear because of\nthe great storm of wind and the high angry waves.\n\nThen toward evening those who were watching from the lookout beheld a land\nand a haven, and they saw upon the land overlooking the haven was a noble\ncastle and a fair large town, surrounded by high walls of stone. So they\ntold the others of what they saw, and all gave great rejoicing for that\nthey were so nigh the land. Therewith they sailed the ship toward the\nhaven, and having entered therein in safety, they cast anchor under the\nwalls of the castle and the town, taking great joy that God had brought\nthem safe and sound through that dreadful peril of the tempest.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram comes to Camelot] Then Sir Tristram said to\nGouvernail: \"Knowest thou, Gouvernail, what place is this to which we have\ncome?\" \"Messire,\" said Gouvernail, \"I think it is Camelot.\" And then those\nknights of Cornwall who stood by said, \"Yea, that is true, and it is\nCamelot.\" And one of them said: \"Messire, it is likely that King Arthur is\nat that place at this very time, for so it was reported that he was, and so\nI believe it to be.\"\n\n\"Ha,\" quoth Tristram, \"that is very good news to me, for I believe that it\nwould be the greatest joy to me that the world can now give to behold King\nArthur and those noble knights of his court ere I die. More especially do I\ndesire above all things to behold that great, noble champion, Sir Launcelot\nof the Lake. So let us now go ashore, and mayhap it shall come to pass that\nI shall see the great King and Sir Launcelot and mayhap shall come to speak\nwith the one or the other.\" And that saying of Sir Tristram's seemed good\nto those knights who were with him, for they were weary of the sea, and\ndesired to rest for a while upon the dry land.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram sets up his pavilion] So they presently all went\nashore and bade their attendants set up their pavilions in a fair level\nmeadow that was somewhat near a league distant away from the castle and the\ntown. In the midst of the other pavilions upon that plain was set the\npavilion of Sir Tristram. It was of fine crimson cloth striped with silver\nand there was the figure of a gryphon carved upon the summit of the centre\npole of the pavilion. The spear of Sir Tristram was emplanted by the point\nof the truncheon in the ground outside the pavilion, and thereunto his\nshield was hung so that those who passed that way might clearly behold what\nwas the device thereon.\n\nAnd now shall be told how Sir Tristram became united in friendship with the\nbrotherhood of good knights at King Arthur's court.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Tristram sits with Sir Launcelot]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Sixth\n\n\n_How Sir Tristram had to do in battle with three knights of the Round\nTable. Also how he had speech with King Arthur._\n\nSo came the next morning, and uprose the sun in all the splendor of his\nglory, shedding his beams to every quarter with a rare dazzling effulgence.\nFor by night the clouds of storm had passed away and gone, and now all the\nair was clear and blue, and the level beams of light fell athwart the\nmeadow-lands so that countless drops of water sparkled on leaf and blade of\ngrass, like an incredible multitude of shining jewels scattered all over\nthe earth. Then they who slept were awakened by the multitudinous voicing\nof the birds; for at that hour the small fowl sang so joyous a roundelay\nthat all the early morning was full of the sweet jargon of their chanting.\n\nAt this time, so early in the day, there came two knights riding by where\nSir Tristram and his companions had set up their pavilions. These were two\nvery famous knights of King Arthur's court and of the Round Table; for one\nwas Sir Ector de Maris and the other was Sir Morganor of Lisle.\n\n[Sidenote: How two knights came to the pavilion of Sir Tristram] When\nthese two knights perceived the pavilions of Sir Tristram and his\nknights-companion, they made halt, and Sir Ector de Maris said, \"What\nknights are these who have come hither?\" Then Sir Morganor looked and\npresently he said: \"Sir, I perceive by their shields that these are Cornish\nknights, and he who occupies this central pavilion must be the champion of\nthis party.\" \"Well,\" quoth Sir Ector, \"as for that I take no great thought\nof any Cornish knight, so do thou strike the shield of that knight and call\nhim forth, and let us see of what mettle he is made.\"\n\n\"I will do so,\" said Sir Morganor; and therewith he rode forward to where\nthe shield of Sir Tristram hung from the spear, and he smote the shield\nwith the point of his lance, so that it rang with a very loud noise.\n\nUpon this, Sir Tristram immediately came to the door of his pavilion, and\nsaid, \"Messires, why did you strike upon my shield?\" \"Because,\" said Sir\nEctor, \"we are of a mind to try your mettle what sort of a knight you be.\"\nQuoth Sir Tristram: \"God forbid that you should not be satisfied. So if you\nwill stay till I put on my armor you shall immediately have your will in\nthis matter.\"\n\nThereupon he went back into his tent and armed himself and mounted his\nhorse and took a good stout spear of ash-wood into his hand.\n\nThen all the knights of Cornwall who were with Sir Tristram came forth to\nbehold what their champion would do, and all their esquires, pages, and\nattendants came forth for the same purpose, and it was a very pleasant time\nof day for jousting.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram overthrows Sir Morganor] Then first of all Sir\nMorganor essayed Sir Tristram, and in that encounter Sir Tristram smote him\nso dreadful, terrible a blow that he cast him a full spear's length over\nthe crupper of his horse, and that so violently that the blood gushed out\nof the nose and mouth and ears of Sir Morganor, and he groaned very\ndolorously and could not arise from where he lay.\n\n\"Hah,\" quoth Sir Ector, \"that was a very wonderful buffet you struck my\nfellow. But now it is my turn to have ado with you, and I hope God will\nsend me a better fortune.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram overthrows Sir Ector] So he took stand for battle\nas did Sir Tristram likewise, and when they were in all wise prepared they\nrushed very violently to the assault. In that encounter Ector suffered\nhardly less ill fortune than Sir Morganor had done. For he brake his spear\nagainst Sir Tristram into as many as an hundred pieces, whilst Sir\nTristram's spear held so that he overthrew both the horse and the\nknight-rider against whom he drove.\n\nThen all the knights of Cornwall gave loud acclaim that their knight had\nborne himself so well in those encounters. But Sir Tristram rode back to\nwhere those two knights still lay upon the ground, and he said: \"Well,\nMessires, this is no very good hap that you have had with me.\"\n\nUpon that speech Sir Ector de Maris gathered himself up from the dust and\nsaid: \"Sir Knight, I pray you of your knighthood to tell us who you be and\nwhat is your degree, for I declare to you, I believe you are one of the\ngreatest knights-champion of the world.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I am very willing to tell you my name and my\nstation; I am Sir Tristram, the son of King Meliadus of Lyonesse.\"\n\n\"Ha,\" quoth Sir Ector, \"I would God I had known that before I had ado with\nyou, for your fame hath already reached to these parts, and there hath been\nsuch report of your prowess and several songs have been made about you by\nminstrels and poets. I who speak to you am Sir Ector, surnamed de Maris,\nand this, my companion, is Sir Morganor of Lisle.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" cried out Sir Tristram, \"I would that I had known who you were ere\nI did battle with you. For I have greater love for the knights of the Round\nTable than all others in the world, and most of all, Sir Ector, do I have\nreverence for your noble brother Sir Launcelot of the Lake. So I take great\nshame to myself that any mishap should have befallen you this day through\nme.\"\n\nUpon this Sir Ector laughed. \"Well,\" quoth he, \"let not that trouble lie\nwith you, for it was we who gave you challenge without inquiry who you\nwere, and you did but defend yourself. We were upon our way to Camelot\nyonder, when we fell into this mishap, for King Arthur is at this time\nholding court at that place. So now, if we have your leave to go upon our\nway, we will betake ourselves to the King and tell him that you are here,\nfor we know that he will be very glad of that news.\"\n\nUpon this Sir Tristram gave them leave to depart, and they did so with many\nfriendly words of good cheer. And after they had gone Sir Tristram went\nback into his pavilion again and partook of refreshment that was brought to\nhim.\n\n[Sidenote: There comes a knight in white armor] Now, some while after Sir\nEctor and Sir Morganor had left that place, and whilst Sir Tristram was\nstill resting in his pavilion, there came a single knight riding that way,\nand this knight was clad altogether in white armor and his shield was\ncovered over with a covering of white leather, so that one could not see\nwhat device he bare thereon.\n\nWhen this white knight came to the place where Sir Tristram and his\ncompanions had pitched their pavilions, he also stopped as Sir Ector and\nSir Morganor had done, for he desired to know what knights these were. At\nthat time Gouvernail was standing alone in front of Sir Tristram's\npavilion, and unto him the white knight said: \"Sir, I pray you, tell me who\nis the knight to whom this pavilion belongs.\"\n\nNow Gouvernail thought to himself: \"Here is another knight who would have\nado with my master. Perhaps Sir Tristram may have glory by him also.\" So he\nanswered the white knight: \"Sir, I may not tell you the name of this\nknight, for he is my master, and if he pleases to tell you his name he must\ntell it himself.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the white knight, \"then I will straightway ask him.\"\n\nTherewith he rode to where the shield of Sir Tristram hung, and he struck\nupon the shield so violent a blow that it rang very loud and clear.\n\nThen straightway came forth Sir Tristram and several of his\nknights-companion from out of the pavilion, and Sir Tristram said, \"Sir\nKnight, wherefore did you strike upon my shield?\"\n\n\"Messire,\" quoth the white knight, \"I struck upon your shield so that I\nmight summon you hither for to tell me your name, for I have asked it of\nyour esquire and he will not tell me.\"\n\n\"Fair Knight,\" quoth Sir Tristram, \"neither will I tell you my name until I\nhave wiped out that affront which you have set upon my shield by that\nstroke you gave it. For no man may touch my shield without my having to do\nwith him because of the affront he gives me thereby.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the white knight, \"I am satisfied to have it as you please.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram does battle with the white knight] So therewith\nSir Tristram went back into his pavilion and several went with him. These\nput his helmet upon his head and they armed him for battle in all ways.\nAfter that Sir Tristram came forth and mounted his horse and took his spear\nin hand and made himself in all ways ready for battle, and all that while\nthe white knight awaited his coming very calmly and steadfastly. Then Sir\nTristram took ground for battle, and the white knight did so likewise. So\nbeing in all ways prepared, each launched forth against the other with such\namazing and terrible violence that those who beheld that encounter stood as\nthough terrified with the thunder of the onset.\n\nTherewith the two knights met in the midst of the course, and each knight\nsmote the other directly in the centre of the shield. In that encounter the\nspear of each knight broke all to small pieces, even to the truncheon which\nhe held in his fist. And so terrible was the blow that each struck the\nother that the horse of each fell back upon his haunches, and it was only\nbecause of the great address of the knight-rider that the steed was able to\nrecover his footing. As for Sir Tristram, that was the most terrible buffet\nhe ever had struck him in all his life before that time.\n\nThen straightway Sir Tristram voided his saddle and drew his sword and\ndressed his shield. And he cried out: \"Ha, Sir Knight! I demand of you that\nyou descend from your horse and do me battle afoot.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the white knight, \"thou shalt have thy will.\" And\nthereupon he likewise voided his horse and drew his sword and dressed his\nshield and made himself in all ways ready for battle as Sir Tristram had\ndone.\n\nTherewith they two came together and presently fell to fighting with such\nardor that sparks of fire flew from every stroke. And if Sir Tristram\nstruck hard and often, the white knight struck as hard and as often as he,\nso that all the knights of Cornwall who stood about marvelled at the\nstrength and fierceness of the knights-combatant. Each knight gave the\nother many sore buffets so that the armor was here and there dinted and\nhere and there was broken through by the edge of the sword so that the red\nblood flowed out therefrom and down over the armor, turning its brightness\nin places into an ensanguined red. Thus they fought for above an hour and\nin all that time neither knight gave ground or gained any vantage over the\nother.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram falls in the battle] Then after a while Sir\nTristram grew more weary of fighting than ever he had been in all of his\nlife before, and he was aware that this was the greatest knight whom he had\never met. But still he would not give ground, but fought from this side and\nfrom that side with great skill and address until of a sudden, he slipped\nupon some of that blood that he himself had shed, and because of his great\nweariness, fell down upon his knees, and could not for the instant rise\nagain.\n\nThen that white knight might easily have struck him down if he had been\nminded to do so. But, instead, he withheld the blow and gave Sir Tristram\nhis hand and said: \"Sir Knight, rise up and stand upon thy feet and let us\ngo at this battle again if it is thy pleasure to do so; for I do not choose\nto take advantage of thy fall.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram was as greatly astonished at the extraordinary courtesy\nof his enemy as he had been at his prowess. And because of that courtesy he\nwould not fight again, but stood leaning upon his sword panting. Then he\nsaid: \"Sir Knight, I pray thee of thy knighthood to tell me what is thy\nname and who thou art.\"\n\n\"Messire,\" said the white knight, \"since you ask me that upon my\nknighthood, I cannot refuse to tell you my name. And so I will do, provided\nyou, upon your part, will do me a like courtesy and will first tell me your\nname and degree.\"\n\nQuoth Sir Tristram: \"I will tell you that. My name is Sir Tristram of\nLyonesse, and I am the son of King Meliadus of that land whereby I have my\nsurname.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot confesses himself] \"Ha, Sir Tristram,\" said the\nwhite knight, \"often have I heard of thee and of thy skill at arms, and\nwell have I proved thy fame this day and that all that is said of thee is\ntrue. I must tell thee that I have never yet met my match until I met thee\nthis day. For I know not how this battle might have ended hadst thou not\nslipped and fallen by chance as thou didst. My name is Sir Launcelot,\nsurnamed of the Lake, and I am King Ban's son of Benwick.\"\n\nAt this Sir Tristram cried out in a loud voice: \"Sir Launcelot! Sir\nLauncelot! Is it thou against whom I have been doing battle! Rather I would\nthat anything should have happened to me than that, for of all men in the\nworld I most desire thy love and friendship.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram yields to Sir Launcelot] Then, having so spoken,\nSir Tristram immediately kneeled down upon his knees and said: \"Messire, I\nyield myself unto thee, being overcome not more by thy prowess than by thy\ncourtesy. For I freely confess that thou art the greatest knight in the\nworld, against whom no other knight can hope to stand; for I could fight no\nmore and thou mightest easily have slain me when I fell down a while\nsince.\"\n\n\"Nay, Sir Tristram,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"arise, and kneel not to me, for I\nam not willing to accept thy submission, for indeed it is yet to be proved\nwhich of us is the better knight, thou or I. Wherefore let neither of us\nyield to the other, but let us henceforth be as dear as brothers-in-arms\nthe one toward the other.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram rose up to his feet again. \"Well, Sir Launcelot,\" he\nsaid, \"whatsoever thou shalt ordain shall be as thou wouldst have it. But\nthere is one thing I must do because of this battle.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram breaks his sword] Then he looked upon his sword\nwhich he held naked and ensanguined in his hand and he said: \"Good sword;\nthou hast stood my friend and hast served me well in several battles, but\nthis day thou hast served me for the last time.\" Therewith he suddenly took\nthe blade of the sword in both hands--the one at the point and the other\nnigh the haft--and he brake the blade across his knee and flung the pieces\naway.\n\nUpon this Sir Launcelot cried out in a loud voice: \"Ha, Messire! why didst\nthou do such a thing as that? To break thine own fair sword?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" quoth Sir Tristram, \"this sword hath this day received the greatest\nhonor that is possible for any blade to receive; for it hath been baptized\nin thy blood. So, because aught else that might happen to it would diminish\nthat honor, I have broken it so that its honor might never be made less\nthan it is at this present time.\"\n\nUpon this Sir Launcelot ran to Sir Tristram and catched him in his arms,\nand he cried out: \"Tristram, I believe that thou art the noblest knight\nwhom ever I beheld!\" And Sir Tristram replied: \"And thou, Launcelot, I love\nbetter than father or kindred.\" Therewith each kissed the other upon the\nface, and all they who stood by were so moved at that sight that several of\nthem wept for pure joy.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram and Sir Launcelot feast together] Thereafter they\ntwo went into Sir Tristram's pavilion and disarmed themselves. Then there\ncame sundry attendants who were excellent leeches and these searched their\nhurts and bathed them and dressed them. And several other attendants came\nand fetched soft robes and clothed the knights therein so that they were\nvery comfortable in their bodies. Then still other attendants brought them\ngood strong wine and manchets of bread and they sat together at table and\nate very cheerfully and were greatly refreshed.\n\nSo I have told you of that famous affair-at-arms betwixt Sir Launcelot and\nSir Tristram, and I pray God that you may have the same pleasure in reading\nof it that I had in writing of it.\n\n[Sidenote: King Arthur comes to Sir Tristram's pavilion] Now, as Sir\nLauncelot and Sir Tristram sat in the pavilion of Sir Tristram making\npleasant converse together, there suddenly entered an esquire to where they\nwere sitting. This esquire proclaimed: \"Messires, hither cometh King\nArthur, and he is very near at hand.\" Thereupon, even as that esquire\nspoke, there came from without the pavilion a great noise of trampling\nhorses and the pleasant sound of ringing armor, and then immediately a loud\nnoise of many voices uplifted in acclamation.\n\nTherewith Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristram arose from where they sat, and as\nthey did so the curtains at the doorway of the pavilion were parted and\nthere entered King Arthur himself enveloped, as it were, with all the glory\nof his royal estate.\n\nUnto him Sir Tristram ran, and would have fallen upon his knees, but King\nArthur stayed him from so doing. For the great king held him by the hand\nand lifted him up, and he said, \"Sir, are you Sir Tristram of Lyonesse?\"\n\"Yea,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I am he.\" \"Ha,\" said King Arthur, \"I am gladder\nto see you than almost any man I know of in the world,\" and therewith he\nkissed Sir Tristram upon the face, and he said: \"Welcome, Messire, to these\nparts! Welcome! And thrice welcome!\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram besought King Arthur that he would refresh himself, and\nthe King said he would do so. So Sir Tristram brought him to the chiefest\nplace, and there King Arthur sat him down. And Sir Tristram would have\nserved him with wine and with manchets of bread with his own hand, but King\nArthur would not have it so, but bade Sir Tristram to sit beside him on his\nright hand, and Sir Tristram did so. After that, King Arthur spake to Sir\nTristram about many things, and chiefly about King Meliadus, the father of\nSir Tristram, and about the court of Lyonesse.\n\nThen, after a while King Arthur said: \"Messire, I hear tell that you are a\nwonderful harper.\" And Sir Tristram said, \"Lord, so men say of me.\" King\nArthur said, \"I would fain hear your minstrelsy.\" To which Sir Tristram\nmade reply: \"Lord, I will gladly do anything at all that will give you\npleasure.\"\n\nSo therewith Sir Tristram gave orders to Gouvernail, and Gouvernail brought\nhim his shining golden harp, and the harp glistered with great splendor in\nthe dim light of the pavilion.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram sings before King Arthur] Sir Tristram took the\nharp in his hands and tuned it and struck upon it. And he played upon the\nharp, and he sang to the music thereof so wonderfully that they who sat\nthere listened in silence as though they were without breath. For not one\nof them had ever heard such singing as that music which Sir Tristram sang;\nfor it was as though some angel were singing to those who sat there\nharkening to his chanting.\n\nSo after Sir Tristram had ended, all who were there gave loud acclaim and\nmuch praise to his singing. \"Ha, Messire!\" quoth King Arthur, \"many times\nin my life have I heard excellent singing, but never before in my life have\nI heard such singing as that. Now I wish that we might always have you at\nthis court and that you would never leave us.\" And Sir Tristram said:\n\"Lord, I too would wish that I might always be with you and with these\nnoble knights of your court, for I have never met any whom I love as I love\nthem.\"\n\nSo they sat there in great joy and friendliness of spirit, and, for the\nwhile, Sir Tristram forgot the mission he was upon and was happy in heart\nand glad of that terrible storm that had driven him thitherward.\n\nAnd now I shall tell you the conclusion of all these adventures, and of how\nit fared with Sir Tristram.\n\n[Illustration: Belle Isoult and Sir Tristram drink the love draught]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Seventh\n\n\n_How Sir Tristram had speech with King Angus of Ireland; how he undertook\nto champion the cause of King Angus and of what happened thereafter_.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram hears news of King Angus] Now, as Sir Tristram and\nKing Arthur and Sir Launcelot sat together in the pavilion of Sir Tristram\nin pleasant, friendly discourse, as aforetold, there came Gouvernail of a\nsudden into that place. He, coming to Sir Tristram, leaned over his\nshoulder and he whispered into his ear: \"Sir, I have just been told that\nKing Angus of Ireland is at this very time at Camelot at the court of the\nKing.\"\n\nUpon this Sir Tristram turned to King Arthur and said: \"Lord, my esquire\ntelleth me that King Angus of Ireland is here at Camelot; now I pray you\ntell me, is that saying true?\" \"Yea,\" said King Arthur, \"that is true; but\nwhat of it?\" \"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I had set forth to seek King Angus\nin Ireland, when I and my companions were driven hither by a great storm of\nwind. Yet when I find him, I know not whether King Angus may look upon me\nas a friend or as an unfriend.\"\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Bertrand was killed in Ireland] \"Ha,\" said King Arthur,\n\"you need not take trouble concerning the regard in which King Angus shall\nhold you. For he is at this time in such anxiety of spirit that he needs to\nhave every man his friend who will be his friend, and no man his enemy whom\nhe can reconcile to him. He is not just now in very good grace, either with\nme or with my court, for the case with him is thus: Some while ago, after\nyou left the court of Ireland, there came to that place Sir Blamor de Ganys\n(who is right cousin to Sir Launcelot of the Lake) and with Sir Blamor a\nknight-companion hight Sir Bertrand de la Riviere Rouge. These two knights\nwent to Ireland with intent to win themselves honor at the court of\nIreland. Whilst they were in that kingdom there were held many jousts and\ntourneys, and in all of them Sir Blamor and Sir Bertrand were victorious,\nand all the knights of Ireland who came against them were put to shame at\ntheir hands. Many of the Irish knights were exceedingly angry at this, and\nso likewise was the King of Ireland. Now it happened one day that Sir\nBertrand was found dead and murdered at a certain pass in the King's\nforest, and when the news thereof was brought to Sir Blamor, he was very\nwroth that his knight-companion should have been thus treacherously slain.\nSo he immediately quitted Ireland and returned hither straightway, and when\nhe had come before me he accused King Angus of treason because of that\nmurder. Now at this time King Angus is here upon my summons for to answer\nthat charge and to defend himself therefrom; for Sir Blamor offers his body\nto defend the truth of his accusation, and as for the King of Ireland, he\ncan find no knight to take his part in that contention. For not only is Sir\nBlamor, as you very well know, one of the best knights in the world, but\nalso nearly everybody here hath doubt of the innocence of King Angus in\nthis affair. Now from this you may see that King Angus is very much more in\nneed of a friend at this time than he is of an enemy.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said Sir Tristram, \"what you tell me is very excellent good news,\nfor now I know that I may have talk with King Angus with safety to myself,\nand that he will no doubt receive me as a friend.\"\n\nSo after King Arthur and his court had taken their departure--it being then\nin the early sloping of the afternoon--Sir Tristram called Gouvernail to\nhim and bade him make ready their horses, and when Gouvernail had done so,\nthey two mounted and rode away by themselves toward that place where King\nAngus had taken up his lodging. When they had come there, Sir Tristram made\ndemand to have speech with the King, and therewith they in attendance\nushered him in to where the King Angus was.\n\n[Sidenote: King Angus welcomes Sir Tristram] But when King Angus saw Sir\nTristram who he was, and when he beheld a face that was both familiar and\nkind, he gave a great cry of joy, and ran to Sir Tristram and flung his\narms about him, and kissed him upon the cheek; for he was rejoiced beyond\nmeasure to find a friend in that unfriendly place.\n\nThen Sir Tristram said, \"Lord, what cheer have you?\" Unto that King Angus\nreplied: \"Tristram, I have very poor cheer; for I am alone amongst enemies\nwith no one to befriend me, and unless I find some knight who will stand my\nchampion to-morrow or the next day I am like to lose my life for the murder\nof Sir Bertrand de la Riviere Rouge. And where am I to find any one to act\nas my champion in defence of my innocence in this place, where I behold an\nenemy in every man whom I meet? Alas, Tristram! There is no one in all the\nworld who will aid me unless it be you, for you alone of all the knights in\nthe world beyond the circle of the knights of the Round Table may hope to\nstand against so excellent and so strong a hero!\"\n\n\"Lord,\" quoth Sir Tristram, \"I know very well what great trouble overclouds\nyou at this time, and it is because of that that I am come hither for to\nvisit you. For I have not at any time forgotten how that I told you when\nyou spared my life in Ireland that mayhap the time might come when I might\nserve as your friend in your day of need. So if you will satisfy me upon\ntwo points, then I myself will stand for your champion upon this occasion.\"\n\n\"Ah, Tristram,\" quoth King Angus, \"what you say is very good news to me\nindeed. For I believe there is no other knight in all the world (unless it\nbe Sir Launcelot of the Lake) who is so strong and worthy a knight as you.\nSo tell me what are those two matters concerning which you would seek\nsatisfaction, and, if it is possible for me to do so, I will give you such\nan answer as may please you.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" said Sir Tristram, \"the first matter is this: that you shall\nsatisfy me that you are altogether innocent of the death of Sir Bertrand.\nAnd the second matter is this: that you shall grant me whatsoever favor it\nis that I shall have to ask of you.\"\n\n[Sidenote: King Angus swears innocence to Sir Tristram] Then King Angus\narose and drew his sword and he said: \"Tristram, behold; here is my\nsword--and the guard thereof and the blade thereof and the handle thereof\nmake that holy sign of the cross unto which all Christian men bow down to\nworship. Look! See! Here I kiss that holy sign and herewith I swear an oath\nupon that sacred symbol, and I furthermore swear upon the honor of my\nknighthood, that I am altogether guiltless of the death of that noble,\nhonorable knight aforesaid. Nor do I at all know how it was he met his\ndeath, for I am innocent of all evil knowledge thereof. Now, Messire, art\nthou satisfied upon that point?\" And Sir Tristram said, \"I am satisfied.\"\n\nThen King Angus said: \"As to the matter of granting you a favor, that I\nwould do in any case for the love I bear you. So let me hear what it is\nthat you have to ask of me.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram asks his boon] \"Lord,\" cried out Sir Tristram,\n\"the favor is one I had liever die than ask. It is this: that you give me\nyour daughter, the Lady Belle Isoult, for wife unto mine uncle, King Mark\nof Cornwall.\"\n\nUpon these words, King Angus sat in silence for a long while, gazing very\nstrangely upon Sir Tristram. Then by and by he said: \"Messire, this is a\nvery singular thing you ask of me; for from what you said to me aforetime\nand from what you said to my daughter I had thought that you desired the\nLady Belle Isoult for yourself. Now I can in no wise understand why you do\nnot ask for her in your name instead of asking for her in the name of King\nMark.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram cried out as in great despair: \"Messire, I love that dear\nlady a great deal more than I love my life; but in this affair I am\nfulfilling a pledge made upon the honor of my knighthood and unto the King\nof Cornwall, who himself made me knight. For I pledged him unaware, and now\nI am paying for my hastiness. Yet I would God that you might take the sword\nwhich you hold in your hand and thrust it through my heart; for I had\nliefer die than fulfil this obligation to which I am pledged.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said King Angus, \"you know very well that I will not slay you, but\nthat I will fulfil your boon as I have promised. As for what you do in this\naffair, you must answer for it to God and to the honor of your own\nknighthood whether it is better to keep that promise which you made to the\nKing of Cornwall or to break it.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram cried out again in great travail of soul: \"Lord, you know\nnot what you say, nor what torments I am at this present moment enduring.\"\nAnd therewith he arose and went forth from that place, for he was ashamed\nthat anyone should behold the passion that moved him.\n\nAnd now is to be told of that famous battle betwixt Sir Tristram and Sir\nBlamor de Ganys of which so much hath been written in all the several\nhistories of chivalry that deal with these matters.\n\nNow when the next morning had come--clear and fair and with the sun shining\nwonderfully bright--a great concourse of people began to betake themselves\nto that place where the lists had been set up in preparation for that\nordeal of battle. That place was on a level meadow of grass very fair\nbedight with flowers and not far from the walls of the town nor from the\nhigh road that led to the gate of the same.\n\n[Sidenote: Of the meadow of battle] And, indeed, that was a very beautiful\nplace for battle, for upon the one hand was the open countryside, all gay\nwith spring blossoms and flowers; and upon the other hand were the walls of\nthe town. Over above the top of those walls was to be seen a great many\ntall towers--some built of stone and some of brick--that rose high up into\nthe clear, shining sky all full of slow-drifting clouds, that floated, as\nit were, like full-breasted swans in a sea of blue. And beyond the walls of\nthe town you might behold a great many fair houses with bright windows of\nglass all shining against the sky. So you may see how fair was all that\nplace, where that fierce battle was presently to be fought.\n\nMeanwhile, great multitudes of people had gathered all about the meadow of\nbattle, and others stood like flies upon the walls of the town and looked\ndown into that fair, pleasant meadow-land, spread with its carpet of\nflowers. All along one side of the ground of battle was a scaffolding of\nseats fair bedraped with fabrics of various colors and textures. In the\nmidst of all the other seats were two seats hung with cloth of scarlet, and\nthese seats were the one for King Arthur and the other for King Angus of\nIreland.\n\nIn the centre of the meadow-land Sir Blamor rode up and down very proudly.\nHe was clad in red armor, and the trappings and the furniture of his horse\nwere all of red, so that he paraded the field like a crimson flame of fire.\n\n\"Sir.\" quoth King Arthur to King Angus, \"yon is a very strong, powerful,\nnoble knight; now where mayst thou find one who can hope to stand against\nhim in this coming battle?\"\n\n[Sidenote: King Angus presents Sir Tristram for his champion] \"Lord,\" said\nKing Angus, \"I do believe that God hath raised up a defender for me in this\nextremity. For Sir Tristram of Lyonesse came to me yesterday, and offered\nfor to take this quarrel of mine upon him. Now I do not believe that there\nis any better knight in all of Christendom than he, wherefore I am to-day\nuplifted with great hopes that mine innocence shall be proved against mine\naccuser.\"\n\n\"Ha!\" quoth King Arthur, \"if Sir Tristram is to stand thy champion in this\naffair, then I do believe that thou hast indeed found for thyself a very\nexcellent, worthy defender.\"\n\nSo anon there came Sir Tristram riding to that place, attended only by\nGouvernail. And he was clad all in bright, polished armor so that he shone\nlike a star of great splendor as he entered the field of battle. He came\nstraight to where King Arthur sat and saluted before him. King Arthur said,\n\"Sir, what knight art thou?\" \"Lord,\" answered he, \"I am Sir Tristram of\nLyonesse, and I am come to champion King Angus who sits beside you. For I\nbelieve him to be innocent of that matter of which he is accused, and I\nwill emperil my body in that belief for to prove the truth of the same.\"\n\n\"Well,\" quoth King Arthur, \"this King accused hath, certes, a very noble\nchampion in thee. So go and do thy devoirs, and may God defend the right.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram does battle with Sir Blamor] Thereupon each knight\ntook a good stout spear into his hand and chose his place for the\nencounter, and each set his shield before him and feutered his lance in\nrest. Then, when each was ready, the marshal blew a great blast upon his\ntrumpet, and thereupon, in an instant, each knight launched against the\nother like a bolt of thunder. So they met in the very middle of the course\nwith such violence that the spear of each knight was shattered all into\npieces unto the very truncheon thereof. Each horse fell back upon his\nhaunches, and each would no doubt, have fallen entirely, had not the\nknight-rider recovered his steed with the greatest skill and address.\n\nThen each knight voided his saddle and each drew his sword and set his\nshield before him. Therewith they came to battle on foot like two wild\nboars--so fiercely and felly that it was terrible to behold. For they\ntraced this way and that and foined and struck at one another so that whole\npieces of armor were hewn from the bodies of each.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram overcomes Sir Blamor] But in all this battle Sir\nTristram had so much the better that, by and by after they had fought for\nabove an hour, Sir Blamor de Ganys began to bare back before him, and to\ngive ground, holding his shield low for weariness. This Sir Tristram\nperceived, and, running in suddenly upon Sir Blamor, he struck him so\nterrible a blow upon the right shoulder that Sir Blamor's arm was\naltogether benumbed thereby, and he could no longer hold his sword in his\nhand.\n\nSo the sword of Sir Blamor fell down into the grass, and Sir Tristram,\nperceiving this, ran and set his foot upon it. Then Sir Blamor could not\nstand any longer, but fell down upon his knees because of a great weariness\nand faintness that lay upon him like the weariness and faintness of\napproaching death.\n\nThen Sir Tristram said: \"Sir Knight, thou canst fight no longer. Now I bid\nthee for to yield thyself to me as overcome in this battle.\"\n\nThereunto Sir Blamor made reply, speaking very deep and hollow from out of\nhis helmet: \"Sir Knight, thou hast overcome me by thy strength and prowess,\nbut I will not yield myself to thee now nor at any time. For that would be\nso great shame that I would rather die than endure it. I am a knight of the\nRound Table, and have never yet been overcome in this wise by any man. So\nthou mayst slay me, but I will not yield myself to thee.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram cried out: \"Sir Knight, I beseech thee to yield thyself,\nfor thou art not fit to fight any more this day.\"\n\nSir Blamor said, \"I will not yield, so strike and have done with it.\"\n\nSo Sir Tristram wist not what to do, but stood there in doubt looking down\nupon Sir Blamor. Then Sir Blamor said, again: \"Strike, Sir Knight, and have\ndone with it.\"\n\nUpon this Sir Tristram said: \"I may not strike thee, Sir Blamor de Ganys,\nto slay thee, for thou art very nigh of blood to Sir Launcelot of the Lake,\nand unto him I have sworn brotherhood in arms; wherefore I pray thee now to\nyield thyself to me.\"\n\nSir Blamor said, \"Nay, I will not yield me to thee.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"then I must fain act this day in a manner like\nas I acted yesterday.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram gives Sir Blamor back his sword] Therewith\nspeaking, he took his sword into both his hands and he swung it several\ntimes around his head and when he had done that he flung it to a great\ndistance away, so that he was now entirely unarmed saving only for his\nmisericordia. After that he gave Sir Blamor his hand and lifted him up upon\nhis feet. And he stooped and picked up Sir Blamor's sword out of the grass\nand gave it back to Sir Blamor into his hands, and he said: \"Sir Knight,\nnow thou art armed and I am entirely unarmed, and so thou hast me at thy\nmercy. Now thou shalt either yield thyself to me or slay me as I stand here\nwithout any weapon; for I cannot now strike thee, and though I have\novercome thee fairly yet thou hast it now in thy power to slay me. So now\ndo thy will with me in this matter.\"\n\nThen Sir Blamor was greatly astonished at the magnanimity of Sir Tristram,\nand he said, \"Sir Knight, what is thy name?\" Sir Tristram said, \"It is\nTristram, surnamed of Lyonesse.\"\n\nUpon this Sir Blamor came to Sir Tristram and put his arms about his\nshoulders, and he said: \"Tristram, I yield myself to thee, but in love and\nnot in hate. For I yield myself not because of thy strength of arms (and\nyet I believe there is no knight in the world, unless it be my cousin Sir\nLauncelot of the Lake, who is thy peer), but I yield me because of thy\nexceeding nobility. Yet I would that I might only be satisfied that this\nKing of Ireland is no traitor.\"\n\n\"Messire,\" said Sir Tristram, \"of that I have assured myself very strongly\nere I entered into this contest, wherefore I may now freely avouch upon\nmine own knightly word that he is innocent.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said Sir Blamor, \"I also am satisfied, and I herewith withdraw all\nmy impeachment against him.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram and Sir Blamor are reconciled] Then those two\nnoble, excellent knights took one another by the hand and went forward\ntogether to where King Arthur sat in high estate, and all those who looked\non and beheld that reconciliation gave loud acclaim. And when King Arthur\nbeheld them coming thus, he arose from where he sat and met them and\nembraced them both, and he said: \"I do not believe that any king can have\ngreater glory in his life than this, to have such knights about him as ye\nbe.\"\n\nSo ended this famous battle with great glory to Sir Tristram and yet with\nno disregard to that famous knight against whom he did battle.\n\nAfter that, they and King Arthur and King Angus of Ireland and all the\ncourt went up unto the castle of Camelot, and there the two\nknights-combatant were bathed in tepid water and their wounds were searched\nand dressed and they were put at their ease in all ways that it was\npossible.\n\nNow that very day, as they all sat at feast in the castle of Camelot, there\ncame one with news that the name of Sir Tristram had suddenly appeared upon\none of the seats of the Round Table. So after they had ended their feast\nthey all immediately went to see how that might be. When they came to the\npavilion of the Round Table, there, behold! was his name indeed upon that\nseat that had once been the seat of King Pellinore. For this was the name\nthat now was upon that seat:\n\nSIR TRISTRAM OF LYONESSE\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram becomes knight of the Round Table] So the next day\nSir Tristram was duly installed as a knight-companion of the Round Table\nwith a great pomp and estate of circumstance, and a day or two after that\nhe set sail for Ireland with King Angus, taking with him Gouvernail and\nthose Cornish knights who were his companions.\n\nSo they all reached Ireland in safety, and, because Sir Tristram had aided\nthe King of Ireland in the day of his extremity, the Queen forgave him all\nthe despite she held against him, so that he was received at the court of\nthe King and Queen with great friendship and high honor.\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Tristram dwelt in Ireland] For a while Sir Tristram\ndwelt in Ireland and said nothing concerning that purpose for which he had\ncome. Then one day he said to King Angus: \"Lord, thou art not to forget to\nfulfil that promise which thou madst to me concerning the Lady Belle\nIsoult.\"\n\nTo this King Angus made reply: \"I had hoped that now we were come to\nIreland you had changed your purpose in that matter. Are you yet of the\nsame mind as when you first spake to me?\"\n\n\"Yea,\" said Sir Tristram, \"for it cannot be otherwise.\"\n\n\"Well, then,\" said King Angus, \"I shall go to prepare my daughter for this\nill-hap that is to befall her, though indeed it doth go against my heart to\ndo such a thing. After I have first spoken to her, you are to take the\nmatter into your own hands, for, to tell you the truth, I have not the\nheart to contrive it further.\"\n\nSo King Angus went away from where Sir Tristram was, and he was gone a long\nwhile. When he returned he said: \"Sir, go you that way and the Lady Belle\nIsoult will see you.\"\n\nSo Sir Tristram went in the direction King Angus had said, and a page\nshowed him the way. So by and by he came to where the Lady Belle Isoult\nwas, and it was a great chamber in a certain tower of the castle and high\nup Under the eaves of the roof.\n\n[Sidenote: How Lady Belle Isoult appeared to Sir Tristram] The Lady Belle\nIsoult stood upon the farther side of this chamber so that the light from\nthe windows shone full upon her face, and Sir Tristram perceived that she\nwas extraordinarily beautiful, and rather like to a shining spirit than to\na lady of flesh and blood. For she was clad altogether in white and her\nface was like to wax for whiteness and clearness, and she wore ornaments of\ngold set with shining stones of divers colors about her neck and about her\narms so that they glistered with a wonderful lustre. Her eyes shone very\nbright and clear like one with a fever, and Sir Tristram beheld that there\nwere channels of tears upon her face and several tears stood upon her white\ncheeks like to shining jewels hanging suspended there.\n\nSo, for a while, Sir Tristram stood still without speaking and regarded her\nfrom afar. Then after a while she spake and said, \"Sir, what is this you\nhave done?\" \"Lady,\" he said, \"I have done what God set me to do, though I\nwould rather die than do it.\"\n\nShe said, \"Tristram, you have betrayed me.\" Upon the which he cried out in\na very loud and piercing voice, \"Lady, say not so!\"\n\nShe said: \"Tristram, tell me, is it better to fulfil this pledge you have\nmade, knowing that in so doing you sacrifice both my happiness and your\nhappiness to satisfy your pride of honor; or is it better that you\nsacrifice your pride and break this promise so that we may both be happy?\nTristram, I beseech you to break this promise you have made and let us be\nhappy together.\"\n\nAt this Sir Tristram cried out in a very loud voice: \"Lady, did you put\nyour hand into my bosom and tear my naked heart, you could not cause me so\nmuch pain as that which I this moment endure. It cannot be as you would\nhave it, for it is thus with me: were it but myself whom I might consider,\nI would freely sacrifice both my life and my honor for your sake. But it\nmay not be so, lady; for I am held to be one of the chiefest of that order\nof knighthood to which I belong, wherefore I may not consider myself, but\nmust ever consider that order. For if I should violate a pledge given upon\nmy knighthood, then would I dishonor not myself, but that entire order to\nwhich I belong. For, did I so, all the world would say, what virtue is\nthere in the order of knighthood when one of the chiefest of that order may\nviolate his pledge when it pleases him to do so? So, lady, having assumed\nthat great honor of knighthood I must perform its obligations even to the\nuttermost; yea, though in fulfilling my pledge I sacrifice both Thee and\nmyself.\"\n\nThen Belle Isoult looked upon Sir Tristram for some little while, and by\nand by she smiled very pitifully and said: \"Ah, Tristram, I believe I am\nmore sorry for thee than I am for myself.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" said Tristram, \"I would God that I lay here dead before you. But I\nam not able to die, but am altogether strong and hale--only very sorrowful\nat heart.\" And therewith he turned and left that place. Only when he had\ncome to a place where he was entirely by himself with no one but God to see\nhim, he hid his face in his hands and wept as though his heart were\naltogether broken. So it was that Sir Tristram fulfilled his pledge.\n\n[Sidenote: Belle Isoult and Sir Tristram depart for Cornwall] After that,\nKing Angus furnished a very noble and beautiful ship with sails of satin\nembroidered with figures of divers sorts, and he fitted the ship in all\nways such as became the daughter of a king and the wife of a king to embark\nupon. And that ship was intended for the Lady Belle Isoult and Sir Tristram\nin which to sail to the court of Cornwall.\n\nAnd it was ordained that a certain very excellent lady of the court of the\nQueen, who had been attendant upon the Lady Belle Isoult when she was a\nlittle child and who had been with her in attendance ever since that time,\nshould accompany her to the Court of Cornwall. And the name of this lady\nwas the Lady Bragwaine.\n\n[Sidenote: The Queen of Ireland provides a love potion for King Mark and\nBelle Isoult] Now the day before the Lady Belle Isoult was to take her\ndeparture from Ireland, the Queen of Ireland came to the Lady Bragwaine and\nshe bare with her a flagon of gold very curiously wrought. And the Queen\nsaid: \"Bragwaine, here is a flask of a very singular and precious sort of\nan elixir; for that liquor it is of such a sort that when a man and a woman\ndrink of it together, they two shall thereafter never cease to love one\nanother as long as they shall have life. Take this flask, and when you have\ncome to Cornwall, and when the Lady Belle Isoult and King Mark have been\nwedded, then give them both to drink of this elixir; for after they have\ndrunk they shall forget all else in the world and cleave only to one\nanother. This I give you to the intent that the Lady Isoult may forget Sir\nTristram, and may become happy in the love of King Mark whom she shall\nmarry.\"\n\nSoon thereafter the Lady Belle Isoult took leave of the King and the Queen\nand entered into that ship that had been prepared for her. Thus, with Sir\nTristram and with Dame Bragwaine and with their attendants, she set sail\nfor Cornwall.\n\nNow it happened that, whilst they were upon that voyage, the Lady Bragwaine\ncame of a sudden into the cabin of that ship and there she beheld the Lady\nBelle Isoult lying upon a couch weeping. Dame Bragwaine said, \"Lady, why do\nyou weep?\" Whereunto the Lady Belle Isoult made reply: \"Alas, Bragwaine,\nhow can I help but weep seeing that I am to be parted from the man I love\nand am to be married unto another whom I do not love?\"\n\nDame Bragwaine laughed and said: \"Do you then weep for that? See! Here is a\nwonderful flask as it were of precious wine. When you are married to the\nKing of Cornwall, then you are to quaff of it and he is to quaff of it and\nafter that you will forget all others in the world and cleave only to one\nanother. For it is a wonderful love potion and it hath been given to me to\nuse in that very way. Wherefore dry your eyes, for happiness may still lay\nbefore you.\"\n\nWhen the Lady Belle Isoult heard these words she wept no more but smiled\nvery strangely. Then by and by she arose and went away to where Sir\nTristram was.\n\nWhen she came to him she said, \"Tristram, will you drink of a draught with\nme?\" He said, \"Yea, lady, though it were death in the draught.\"\n\nShe said, \"There is not death in it, but something very different,\" and\nthereupon she went away into the cabin where that chalice aforesaid was\nhidden. And at that time Dame Bragwaine was not there.\n\nThen the Lady Belle Isoult took the flagon from where it was hidden, and\npoured the elixir out into a chalice of gold and crystal and she brought it\nto where Sir Tristram was. When she had come there, she said, \"Tristram, I\ndrink to thee,\" and therewith she drank the half of the elixir there Was in\nthe chalice. Then she said, \"Now drink thou the rest to me.\"\n\nUpon that Sir Tristram took the chalice and lifted it to his lips, and\ndrank all the rest of that liquor that was therein.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram and Belle Isoult drink the love potion] Now\nimmediately Sir Tristram had drunk that elixir he felt it run like fire\nthrough every vein in his body. Thereupon he cried out, \"Lady, what is this\nyou have given me to drink?\" She said: \"Tristram, that was a powerful love\npotion intended for King Mark and me. But now thou and I have drunk of it\nand never henceforth can either of us love anybody in all of the world but\nthe other.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram catched her into his arms and he cried out: \"Isoult!\nIsoult! what hast thou done to us both? Was it not enough that I should\nhave been unhappy but that thou shouldst have chosen to be unhappy also?\"\n\nThereat the Lady Belle Isoult both wept and smiled, looking up into Sir\nTristram's face, and she said: \"Nay, Tristram; I would rather be sorry with\nthee than happy with another.\" He said, \"Isoult, there is much woe in this\nfor us both.\" She said, \"I care not, so I may share it with thee.\"\n\nThereupon Sir Tristram kissed her thrice upon the face, and then\nimmediately put her away from him and he left her and went away by himself\nin much agony of spirit.\n\nThereafter they reached the kingdom of Cornwall in safety, and the Lady\nBelle Isoult and King Mark were wedded with much pomp and ceremony and\nafter that there was much feasting and every appearance of rejoicing.\n\n\n\n\nPART II\n\n\nThe Story of Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorack\n\nAnd now shall be told the story of Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorack of Gales,\nhow they became brothers-in-arms; how Sir Lamorack took offence at Sir\nTristram, and how they became reconciled again.\n\nBut first of all you must know that Sir Lamorack of Gales was deemed to be\none of the greatest knights alive. For it was said that there were three\nknights that were the greatest in all of the world, and those three were\nSir Launcelot of the Lake, Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, and Sir Lamorack of\nGales.\n\nSir Lamorack was the son of King Pellinore, of whom it hath already been\ntold in the Book of King Arthur that he was the greatest knight during that\ntime; and he was the brother of Sir Percival, of whom it is to be told\nhereinafter that he was the peer even of Sir Launcelot of the Lake. So\nbecause that house produced three such great and famous knights, the house\nof King Pellinore hath always been singularly renowned in all histories of\nchivalry. For indeed there was not any house so famous as it saving only\nthe house of King Ban of Benwick, which brought forth those two peerless\nknights beyond all compare:--to wit, Sir Launcelot of the Lake and Sir\nGalahad, who achieved the quest of the San Grail.\n\nSo I hope that you may find pleasure in the story of how Sir Tristram and\nSir Lamorack became acquainted, and of how they became brothers-in-arms.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Lamorack of Gales]\n\n\n\n\nChapter First\n\n\n_How Sir Lamorack of Gales came to Tintagel and how he and Sir Tristram\nsware friendship together in the forest._\n\nAfter these happenings, Sir Tristram abode for awhile at the Court of\nCornwall, for so King Mark commanded him to do. And he sought in every way\nto distract his mind from his sorrows by deeds of prowess. So during this\ntime he performed several adventures of which there is not now space to\ntell you. But these adventures won such credit to his knighthood that all\nthe world talked of his greatness.\n\nAnd ever as he grew more and more famous, King Mark hated him more and\nmore. For he could not bear to see Sir Tristram so noble and so sorrowful\nwith love of the Lady Belle Isoult.\n\nAlso Sir Tristram spent a great deal of time at chase with hawk and hound;\nfor he hoped by means also of such sports to drive away, in some measure,\nhis grief for the loss of Belle Isoult.\n\nNow the season whereof this chapter speaketh was in the autumn of the year,\nwhat time all the earth is glorious with the brown and gold of the\nwoodlands. For anon, when the wind would blow, then the leaves would fall\ndown from the trees like showers of gold so that everywhere they lay heaped\nlike flakes of gold upon the russet sward, rustling dry and warm beneath\nthe feet, and carpeting all the world with splendor. And the deep blue sky\noverhead was heaped full of white, slow-moving clouds, and everywhere the\nwarm air was fragrant with the perfume of the forest, and at every strong\nbreeze the nuts would fall pattering down upon the ground like hailstones.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram rides ahunting] And because the world was so\nbeautiful and so lusty, Sir Tristram took great pleasure in life in spite\nof that trouble that lay upon him. So he and his court rode very joyfully\namid the trees and thickets, making the woodlands merry with the music of\nwinding horns and loud-calling voices and with the baying of hounds\nsounding like sweet tolling bells in the remoter aisles of the forest\nspaces.\n\nThus Sir Tristram made sport all one morning, in such an autumn season, and\nwhen noon had come he found himself to be anhungered. So he gave orders to\nthose who were in attendance upon him that food should be spread at a\ncertain open space in the forest; and therewith, in accordance with those\norders, they in attendance immediately opened sundry hampers of wicker, and\ntherefrom brought forth a noble pasty of venison, and manchets of bread and\nnuts and apples and several flasks and flagons of noble wine of France and\nthe Rhine countries. This abundance of good things they set upon a cloth as\nwhite as snow which they had laid out upon the ground.\n\nNow just as Sir Tristram was about to seat himself at this goodly feast he\nbeheld amid the thin yellow foliage that there rode through a forest path\nnot far away a very noble-seeming knight clad all in shining armor and with\nvestments and trappings of scarlet so that he shone like a flame of fire in\nthe woodlands.\n\nThen Sir Tristram said to those who stood near him, \"Know ye who is yonder\nknight who rides alone?\" They say, \"No, Lord, we know him not.\" Sir\nTristram said, \"Go and bid that knight of his courtesy that he come hither\nand eat with me.\"\n\nSo three or four esquires ran to where that knight was riding, and in a\nlittle they came attending him to where Sir Tristram was, and Sir Tristram\nwent to meet him.\n\nThen Sir Tristram said: \"Sir Knight, I pray you for to tell me your name\nand degree, for it seems to me that you are someone very high in order of\nknighthood.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Lamorack meets Sir Tristam] \"Messire,\" quoth the other, \"I\nshall be very glad to tell you my name if so be you will do the like\ncourtesy unto me. I am Sir Lamorack of Gales, and I am son of the late King\nPellinore, who was in his days held to be the foremost knight in this\nrealm. I come to these parts seeking Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, of whose\nfame I hear told in every court of chivalry whither I go. For I have never\nbeheld Sir Tristram, and I have a great desire to do so.\"\n\n\"Well,\" quoth Sir Tristram, \"meseems I should be greatly honored that you\nshould take so much trouble for nothing else than that; for lo! I am that\nvery Sir Tristram of Lyonesse whom you seek.\"\n\nThen Sir Lamorack immediately leaped down from his war-horse and putting up\nthe umbril of his helmet, he came to Sir Tristram and took him by the hand\nand kissed him upon the cheek. And Sir Tristram kissed Sir Lamorack again,\nand each made great joy of the other.\n\nAfter that, Sir Lamorack, with the aid of these esquires attendant upon Sir\nTristram, put aside his armor, and bathed his face and neck and hands in a\ncold forest brook, as clear as crystal, that came brawling down out of the\nwoodlands. Therewith, being greatly refreshed he and Sir Tristram sat down\nto that bountiful feast together, and ate and drank with great joy and\ncontent of spirit. And whiles they ate each made inquiry of the other what\nhe did, and each told the other many things concerning the goodly\nadventures that had befallen him.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram sings to Sir Lamorack] And after they were through\neating and drinking, Sir Tristram took his harp in hand and sang several\nexcellent ballads and rondels which he had made in honor of Belle Isoult,\nand Sir Lamorack listened and made great applause at each song that Sir\nTristram sang. And so each knight loved the other more and more the longer\nthey sat together.\n\nThen, after a while, Sir Tristram said: \"Dear friend, let us swear\nbrotherhood to one another, for I find that my heart goeth out to thee with\na wonderful strength.\"\n\n\"Ha, Tristram,\" said Sir Lamorack, \"I would rather live in brotherhood with\nthee than with any man whom I know, for I find that the longer I am with\nthee, the greater and the stronger my love groweth for thee.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram drew from his finger a very splendid ring (for the ring\nheld an emerald carved into the likeness of the head of a beautiful woman,\nand that emerald was set into the gold of the ring) and Sir Tristram said:\n\"Give me that ring upon thy finger, O Lamorack! and take thou this ring in\nits stead; so we shall have confirmed our brotherhood to one another.\"\n\nThen Sir Lamorack did very joyfully as Sir Tristram bade him, and he took\nthe ring that Sir Tristram gave him and kissed it and put it upon his\nfinger; and Sir Tristram kissed the ring that Sir Lamorack gave him and put\nit upon his finger.\n\nThus they confirmed brotherhood with one another that day as they sat\ntogether in the forest at feast, with the golden leaves falling about them.\nAnd so they sat together all that afternoon and until the sun began to hang\nlow in the west; after that, they arose and took horse, and rode away\ntogether toward Tintagel in great pleasure of companionship.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Lamorack is honored at Tintagel] Now all the court at\nTintagel was greatly rejoiced at the presence of so famous a knight as Sir\nLamorack of Gales; so there was great celebration upon that account, and\neverybody did the most that he was able to give pleasure to Sir Lamorack.\nAnd during the time that Sir Lamorack was at Tintagel there were several\njoustings held in his honor, and in all these assays at arms Sir Lamorack\nhimself took part and overthrew everyone who came against him, so that he\napproved himself to be so wonderful a champion that all men who beheld his\nperformance exclaimed with astonishment at his prowess.\n\nBut from all these affairs at arms Sir Tristram held himself aloof, and\nwould not take part in them. For he took such pleasure in Sir Lamorack's\nglory that he would not do anything that might imperil the credit that his\nfriend thus gained by his prowess. For though Sir Tristram dearly loved\nsuch affairs, he would ever say to himself: \"Perhaps if I should enter the\nlists against my friend it might be my mishap to overthrow him and then his\nglory would be forfeited unto me.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Lamorack does famous battle] Now upon a certain time there\nwas held a great day of jousting in honor of Sir Lamorack, and in that\naffair at arms twenty of the best knights, both of Cornwall and the\ncountries circumadjacent, took the field to hold it against all comers. Of\nthese knights, several were well-known champions, so that they maintained\nthe field for a long while, to the great credit both of themselves and of\nCornwall. But some while after the prime of day, there came Sir Lamorack\ninto that field, and, the day being cool and fresh, he was filled with a\nwonderful strength and spirit of battle. So he challenged first one of\nthose Cornish champions and then another, and in all such challenges he was\nsuccessful, so that he overthrew of those knights, the one after the other,\nfifteen men, some of whom were sorely hurt in the encounter. Upon this, the\nother five of those champions, beholding the prowess and strength and skill\nof Sir Lamorack said to one another: \"Why should we venture against this\nman? Of a verity, this knight is no mere man, but a demon of strength and\nskill. Wherefore no man may hope to stand against him in an assault of\narms; for lo! if he doth but touch a man with his lance that man\nstraightway falleth from his saddle.\" So they withdrew themselves from that\nencounter and would not have to do with Sir Lamorack.\n\nNow at that time Sir Tristram was sitting with the court of the King, and\nnot far from the Lady Belle Isoult, overlooking the meadow of battle.\n\nTo him King Mark said: \"Messire, why do you take no part against this\nknight? Is it that you fear him?\"\n\nTo this Sir Tristram replied with great calmness: \"Nay, I fear not him nor\nany man alive, and that you know, Lord, better than anyone in all of the\nworld.\"\n\n\"I am glad to hear of your courage and fearlessness,\" quoth King Mark, \"for\nmeseems it is a great shame to all of us that this gentleman, who is a\nstranger amongst us, should win so much credit to the disadvantage of all\nthe knights of Cornwall. Now, as you say you have no fear of him, I pray\nyou go down into the field and do battle with him in our behalf.\" So said\nKing Mark, for he thought to himself: \"Perhaps Sir Lamorack may overthrow\nSir Tristram, and so bring him into disrepute with those who praise him so\ngreatly.\"\n\nBut Sir Tristram said: \"No; I will not go down to battle against Sir\nLamorack this day whatever I may do another day. For I have sworn\nbrotherhood to that noble and gentle champion, and it would ill beseem me\nto assault him now, when he is weary and short of breath from this great\nbattle which he hath done to-day against such odds. For if I should\noverthrow him now, it would bring great shame upon him. Some other day and\nin some other place I may assay him in friendliness, with honor and credit\nboth to myself and him.\"\n\n[Sidenote: King Mark commands Sir Tristram to do battle] \"Well,\" said King\nMark, \"as for that, I do not choose to wait. Nor am I pleased that you\nshould sit by and suffer this knight to carry away all the credit of arms\nfrom Cornwall in despite of the knights of Cornwall. For not only would\nthis be a great shame to the knights of Cornwall (of whom you are the\nacknowledged champion), but it would be equally a shame unto this lady whom\nyou have fetched hither from Ireland to be Queen of Cornwall. So I lay this\ncommand upon you--not only because I am your King, but because I am he who\nmade you knight--that you straightway go down into yonder meadow and do\nbattle with this knight who beareth himself so proudly in our midst.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram looked upon King Mark with great anger and bitterness,\nand he said: \"This is great shame and despite which you seek to put upon me\nby giving such commands unto me. Verily, it would seem that in all ways you\nseek to put shame and sorrow upon me. And yet I have ever been your true\nknight, and have saved your kingdom from truage to Ireland and have served\nyou very faithfully in all ways. Would to God I had been made knight by any\nman in the world rather than by you.\"\n\nAt this King Mark smiled very bitterly upon Tristram. \"Sirrah,\" quoth he,\n\"meseems you speak very outrageously to me who am your King. Now I herewith\ncommand you to go straightway down into that field without any further\nwords and to do my bidding against yonder knight.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram groaned in spirit, and then he said, \"I go.\"\n\nSo Sir Tristram arose and went away from that place very full of bitterness\nand anger against the King and his court. For whiles there were some of\nthat court who were sorry for the affront that King Mark had put upon him\nin public before the eyes of the entire court, yet there were others who\nsmiled and were glad of his humiliation. For even so true and noble a\ngentleman as Sir Tristram, when he groweth great and famous, is like to\nhave as many enemies as friends. For there are ever those who envy truth\nand nobility in a man, as well as others who hate meanness and falsity, and\nso Sir Tristram ever had many enemies whithersoever he went. And that also\nwas the case with Sir Launcelot and Sir Lamorack, and with other noble\nknights at that time.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram arms himself] But though Sir Tristram was so\nfilled with indignation he said nothing to any man, but went to his lodging\nand summoned Gouvernail, and bade Gouvernail to help him to his armor and\nhis horse.\n\nGouvernail said: \"Lord, what would you do for to arm and horse yourself at\nthis hour?\" Sir Tristram made reply: \"The King hath commanded me to do\nbattle with Sir Lamorack, and yet Sir Lamorack is my very dear friend and\nsworn brother-in-arms. He is already weary with battle, and of a surety I\nshall be very likely to overthrow him in an assault at arms at this time.\"\nGouvernail said, \"Lord, that would be great shame to you as well as to\nhim.\" And Sir Tristram said, \"Yea, it is great shame.\" Then Gouvernail\nbeheld Sir Tristram's face, how it was all filled with a passion of shame\nand indignation, and so he guessed what had passed, and held his peace.\n\nSo when Sir Tristram was armed and mounted, he rode down into the meadow of\nbattle, where was Sir Lamorack parading with great glory before the\napplause of all who looked down upon that field.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Lamorack speaks to Sir Tristram] But when Sir Lamorack\nbeheld that it was Sir Tristram who came against him, he was greatly\nastonished, and cried out: \"Ha, Tristram, how is this? Is it you who come\nagainst me? Have you then forgot that I am your brother-in-arms and a\nfellow of the Round Table?\"\n\nTo this Sir Tristram said: \"Messire, I come not of my own free will, but\nonly because I must needs come, being so commanded by the King of\nCornwall.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said Sir Lamorack, \"so be it as you will, though I am very\nmuch surprised that you should do battle against me, after all that hath\npassed betwixt us. More especially at this season when, as you very well\nknow, I am weary and winded with battle.\"\n\nThereupon and without further parley, each knight took stand for the\nencounter at the position assigned to him. Then when they were in all ways\nprepared, the marshal of the field blew upon his trumpet a call for the\nassault.\n\nSo rushed those two together like two stones, flung each out of a catapult;\nand therewith they two smote together in the midst of their course like to\na clap of thunder.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram overthrows Sir Lamorack] In that encounter the\nspear of Sir Lamorack brake into as many as twenty or thirty pieces; but\nthe spear of Sir Tristram held, so that the horse of Sir Lamorack, which\nwas weary with the several charges he had made, was overthrown into a great\ncloud of dust.\n\nBut Sir Lamorack did not fall with his steed; for he voided his saddle with\na very wonderful agility and dexterity, so that he himself kept his feet,\nalthough his horse fell as aforesaid. Then he was filled with great rage\nand shame that he had been so overthrown before all those who looked upon\nhim; wherefore he immediately drew his sword and cried out aloud: \"Come\ndown, Sir Knight, and do battle with me afoot, for though my horse hath\nfailed me because of his weariness, yet you shall find that my body shall\nnot so fail me.\"\n\nBut that while Sir Tristram sat very sorrowful, and he said: \"Nay, I will\nnot have to do with thee again this day, for it was against my will that I\ncame hither to do battle with thee, and it is to my shame that I did so.\nWherefore I will not now do further battle with thee. But wait until\nto-morrow and until thou art fresh, and then I will give thee the chance of\nbattle again.\"\n\nTo this Sir Lamorack made answer very bitterly: \"Sir, I think you talk to\namuse me; for first you put shame upon me in this encounter, and then you\nbid me wait until to-morrow ere I purge me of that shame. Now I demand of\nyou to do battle with me upon this moment and not to-morrow.\"\n\nSir Tristram said: \"I will not do battle with thee, Lamorack, for I have\ndone wrong already, and I will not do more wrong.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Lamorack reproves Sir Tristram] Upon this, Sir Lamorack was\nso filled with anger that he scarce knew what to say or to do. Wherefore he\nturned him to several who had come down into the meadow of battle, and he\nsaid: \"Hear ye all, and listen to my words: This knight came against me in\nthis field after I had had to do with fifteen other knights. In that\nencounter he overthrew me, because of the weariness of my horse. Having\ndone that unknightly deed, he now refuseth me any further test of battle,\nbut allows me to lie beneath that shame which he put upon me. Now I bid you\nwho stand here to take this word to Sir Launcelot of the Lake; I bid ye\ntell Sir Launcelot that Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, having sworn\nbrother-hood-in-arms to me, and being a fellow-knight of the Round Table,\nhath come against me when I was weary with battle and he was fresh. Tell\nSir Launcelot that so Sir Tristram overthrew me with shame to himself and\nwith discredit to me, and that he then refused me all satisfaction such as\none true knight should afford another.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram cried out in a loud voice, \"I pray you, hear me speak,\nMessire!\" But Sir Lamorack replied, \"I will not hear thee!\" and therewith\nturned and went away, leaving Sir Tristram where he was. And Sir Tristram\nsat there without movement, like to a statue of stone.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Lamorack leaves Tintagel] After that Sir Lamorack did not\ntarry longer at Tintagel, but immediately left the King's court without\nmaking speech with anyone. And thereafter he went down to the seashore and\nembarked in a boat with intent to sail to Camelot where King Arthur was\nthen holding court. For his heart was still so bitter against Sir Tristram\nthat he intended to lay complaint against him before the court of chivalry\nat Camelot.\n\nBut Sir Lamorack did not reach Camelot upon that voyage; for, whilst he was\nin passage, there suddenly arose a great tempest of wind, and in spite of\nall that the mariners could do, that small ship wherein he sailed was\ndriven upon a cruel headland of rocks and cliffs where it was dashed to\npieces.\n\nBut Sir Lamorack had foreseen that that small boat was to be wrecked,\nwherefore, before the end came, he stripped himself entirely naked and\nleaped into the waters and swam for his life.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Lamorack is shipwrecked upon a strange land] So he swam for\na long time until he was wellnigh exhausted and upon the point of drowning\nin the waters. But at that moment he came by good hap to where was a little\nbay of quiet water, whereinto he swam and so made shift to come safe to\nland--but faint and weak, and so sick that he feared that he was nigh to\ndeath. Then Sir Lamorack perceived that there was heather at that place\ngrowing upon the rocks of the hillside, so he crawled into the heather and\nlay him down therein in a dry spot and immediately fell into such a deep\nsleep of weariness that it was more like to the swoon of death than to\nslumber.\n\n[Sidenote: Of Sir Nabon le Noir] Now the lord of that country whereunto\nSir Lamorack had come was a very wicked knight, huge of frame and very\ncruel and hard of heart. The name of this knight was Sir Nabon, surnamed le\nNoir; for he was very swarth of hue, and he always wore armor entirely of\nblack. This knight had several years before slain the lord of that land,\nand had seized upon all of the island as his own possession, and no one\ndared to come against him for to recover these possessions, for his prowess\nwas so remarkable and his body so huge that all the world was afraid of\nhim. So he dwelt there unmolested in a strong castle of stone built up upon\na rock near to the seashore, whence he might behold all the ships that\npassed him by. Then, whenever he would see such a ship pass by, he would\nissue forth in his own ships and seize upon that other vessel, and either\nlevy toll upon it or sink it with all upon board. And if he found any folk\nof high quality aboard such a ship, that one he would seize and hold for\nransom. So Sir Nabon made himself the terror of all that part of the world,\nand all men avoided the coasts of so inhospitable a country. Such was the\nland upon which Sir Lamorack had been cast by the tempest.\n\n[Sidenote: The fisher-folk disarm Sir Lamorack] Now whilst Sir Lamorack\nlay sleeping in the heather in that wise as aforetold, there came by that\nway several fisher-folk; these, when they saw him lying there, thought at\nfirst that he was dead. But as they stood talking concerning him, Sir\nLamorack was aware of their voices and woke and sat up and beheld them.\n\nThen the chiefest of those fisher-folk spake and said, \"Who are you, and\nhow came you here?\" Him Sir Lamorack answered: \"Alas! friend! I am a poor\nsoul who was cast ashore from a shipwreck, naked as you see me. Now I pray\nyou, give me some clothes to cover my nakedness, and give me some food to\neat, and lend me such succor as man may give to man in distress.\"\n\nThen the chief fisherman perceived the ring upon Sir Lamorack's finger that\nSir Tristram had given him, and he said, \"How got you that ring upon your\nfinger?\" Sir Lamorack said, \"He who was my friend gave it to me.\" \"Well,\"\nquoth the fisherman, \"I will give you clothes to wear and food to eat, but\nif I do so you must give me that ring that I see upon your hand. As for\nlending you aid, I must tell you that the lord of this island hath ordained\nupon peril of our lives that all who come hither must straightway be\nbrought before him to be dealt with as he may deem fitting. Wherefore,\nafter I have fed you and clothed you I must immediately take you to him.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The fisher-folk give Sir Lamorack clothes and food] \"Alas!\"\nquoth Sir Lamorack, \"this is certes an inhospitable land into which I have\ncome! Ne'ertheless, as I am naked and starving, I see that I have no choice\nother than that which ye put upon me.\" So therewith he gave the chief of\nthe fisher-folk the ring that Sir Tristram had given him, and in return the\nfishermen gave him such garments as they could spare to cover his\nnakedness; and they gave him black bread and cheese to eat, and bitter ale\nto drink from a skin that they carried with them. After that they tied Sir\nLamorack's hands behind his back, and so, having made him prisoner, they\nbrought him to the castle of Sir Nabon, and before Sir Nabon who was there\nat that time.\n\nNow it chanced that the swineherd of Sir Nabon's castle had been slain in a\nquarrel with one of his fellows, so that when Sir Nabon beheld Sir\nLamorack, that he was big and sturdy of frame, he said: \"I will spare this\nfellow his life, but I will make him my swineherd. So take ye him away and\nlet him herd my swine.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Lamorack turns swineherd] So they led Sir Lamorack away,\nand he became swineherd to Sir Nabon surnamed le Noir, and presently in a\nlittle while he grew so rough and shaggy that his own mother would hardly\nhave known him had she beheld him.\n\nSo endeth this adventure of Sir Lamorack. And now it shall be told how it\nbefel with Sir Tristram after Sir Lamorack had left Tintagel as aforetold.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Tristram cometh to ye castle of Sir Nabon]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Second\n\n\n_How Sir Tristram started to go to Camelot, and how he stayed by the way to\ndo battle with Sir Nabon le Noir._\n\nNow after Sir Lamorack had quit the court of King Mark of Cornwall as\naforetold, Sir Tristram was very sad at heart for a long while.\nNevertheless, he tried to comfort himself by saying: \"Well, it was not by\nmy will that I did battle with my friend and brother-in-arms, for I had no\nchoice as to that which I was compelled to do.\" So he spake to himself, and\ntook what comfort he was able from such considerations, and that comfort\nwas not very great.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot sends a letter to Sir Tristram] Then one day\nthere came from Sir Launcelot of the Lake a letter in which Sir Launcelot\nsaid that he had heard that Sir Tristram had assailed Sir Lamorack when\nthat knight was weary and spent with battle. And in that letter Sir\nLauncelot further said: \"It is very strange to me, Messire, that such\nthings should be said of you, and that by several mouths. Now, I pray you,\nset this matter at right, for I do not choose to have such a thing said of\nyou; that you would wait until a knight was weary with fighting before you\nwould do battle with him. Moreover, Sir Lamorack is your sworn\nbrother-at-arms, and a fellow-knight of the Round Table, and is, besides,\none of the noblest and gentlest knights in Christendom. Wherefore I beseech\nyou to set this matter right, so that those who accuse you of\nunknightliness may be brought to confusion.\"\n\nSo wrote Sir Launcelot, and at those words Sir Tristram was cast into a\ngreat deal of pain and trouble of spirit; for he wist not how to answer\nthat letter of Sir Launcelot's so as to make the matter clear to that\nknight. Wherefore he said: \"I will straightway go to Camelot and to Sir\nLauncelot and will speak to him by word of mouth, and so will make him\nunderstand why I did that which I had to do.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram rides to Camelot] So when the next day had come\nSir Tristram arose and took horse and rode away from Tintagel with intent\nto betake himself to Camelot where King Arthur was then holding court, and\nwhere he might hope to find Sir Launcelot abiding. And Sir Tristram took no\ncompanion with him, not even Gouvernail.\n\nAnd now I shall tell you how Sir Tristram rode: the way that he took led\nhim down by the seashore, and by and by to a deep forest, which was then\nnearly altogether devoid of leaves, so that the branches above him were in\nsome places like to the meshes of a net spread against the sky. Here that\nyoung knight rode upon a deep carpet of leaves, so that the steps of his\nwar-horse were silenced save only for the loud and continued rustling of\nhis footfalls in the dry and yellow foliage. And as Sir Tristram rode he\nsang several songs in praise of the Lady Belle Isoult, chanting in a voice\nthat was both clear and loud and very sweet, and that sounded to a great\ndistance through the deep, silent aisles of the forest.\n\nThus he travelled, anon singing as aforetold of, and anon sank in\nmeditation, so travelling until the day declined and the early gray of the\nevening began to fall. Then he began to bethink him how he should spend the\nnight, and he thought he would have to sleep abroad in the forest. But just\nas the gray of the evening was fading away into darkness he came to a\ncertain place of open land, where, before him, he perceived a tall castle,\npartly of stone and partly of red bricks, built up upon a steep hill of\nrocks. And upon one side of this castle was the forest, and upon the other\nside was the wide and open stretch of sea.\n\nAnd Sir Tristram perceived that there were lights shining from several\nwindows of that castle, and that all within was aglow with red as of a\ngreat fire in the hall of the castle; and at these signs of good cheer, his\nheart was greatly expanded with joy that he should not after all have to\nspend that night in the darkness and in the chill of the autumn wilds.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram comes to a friendly castle] So Sir Tristram set\nspurs to his good horse and rode up to the castle and made request for rest\nand refreshment for the night. Then, after a little parley, the drawbridge\nwas lowered, and the portcullis was raised, and he rode with a great noise\ninto the stone-paved courtyard of the castle.\n\nThereupon there came several attendants of the castle, and took his horse\nand aided him to descend from the saddle; and then other attendants came\nand led him away into the castle and so to an apartment where there was a\nwarm bath of tepid water, and where were soft towels and napkins of linen\nfor to dry himself upon after he was bathed. And when he had bathed and\nrefreshed himself, there came still other attendants bearing soft warm\nrobes for him in which to clothe himself after his journey; and Sir\nTristram clothed himself and felt greatly at his ease, and was glad that he\nhad come to that place.\n\nFor thus it was that worthy knights like Sir Tristram travelled the world\nin those days so long ago; and so they were received in castle and hall\nwith great pleasure and hospitality. For all folk knew the worth of these\nnoble gentlemen and were glad to make them welcome whithersoever they went.\nAnd so I have told to you how Sir Tristram travelled, that you might,\nperchance, find pleasure in the thought thereof.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram meets the lady of the castle] Now after Sir\nTristram had refreshed himself and clothed himself as aforesaid, there came\nthe steward of the castle and besought him that he would come to where the\nlady of the castle was awaiting him for to welcome him. And Sir Tristram\nwent with the steward, and the steward brought him where the lady sat at a\ntable prepared for supper. And Sir Tristram perceived that the lady was\nvery beautiful, but that she was clad in the deep weeds of a widow.\n\nWhen the lady perceived Sir Tristram, she arose and went to meet him, and\ngave him welcome, speaking in a voice both soft and very sweet. \"Messire,\"\nquoth she, \"I am grieved that there is no man here to welcome you in such a\nmanner as is fitting. But, alas! as you may see by the weeds in which I am\nclad, I am alone in the world and without any lord of the castle to do the\ncourtesies thereof as is fitting. Yet such as I am, I give you welcome with\nmy entire heart.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" quoth Sir Tristram, \"I give you gramercy for your courtesy. And\nindeed I am grieved to see you in such sorrow as your dress foretells. Now\nif there is any service I may render to you, I beseech you to call upon me\nfor whatever aid I may give you.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram feasts with the chatelaine] \"Nay,\" quoth she,\n\"there is nothing you can do to help me.\" And therewith the lady, who was\nhight Loise, took Sir Tristram by the hand and led him to the table and sat\nhim down beside her. Then straightway there came sundry attendants, and set\na noble feast before them, with good excellent wines, both white and red;\nand they two ate and drank together with great appetite and enjoyment.\n\nNow after that feast was over and done, Sir Tristram said: \"Lady, will you\nnot of your courtesy tell me why you wear the weeds of sorrow in which you\nare clad? This I ask, not from idle humor, but because, as I said before, I\nmay haply be able to aid you in whatever trouble it is under which you\nlie.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady telleth Sir Tristram of Sir Nabon le Noir] \"Alas, Sir\nKnight!\" quoth she, \"my trouble lieth beyond your power to aid or to amend.\nFor can you conquer death, or can you bring the dead back to life again?\nNevertheless, I will tell you what my sorrow is, and how it came unto me.\nYou must know that some distance away across the sea, which you may behold\nfrom yonder window, there lieth an island. The present lord of that island\nis a very wicked and cruel knight, huge of frame and big of limb, hight Sir\nNabon surnamed le Noir. One time the noble and gentle knight who was my\nhusband was the lord of that island and the castle thereon, and of several\nother castles and manors and estates upon this mainland as well. But one\nevil day when I and my lord were together upon that island, this Sir Nabon\ncame thither by night, and with certain evil-disposed folk of the island he\novercame my lord and slew him very treacherously. Me also he would have\nslain, or else have taken into shameful captivity, but, hearing the noise\nof that assault in which my lord was slain, I happily escaped, and so, when\nnight had come, I got away from that island with several attendants who\nwere faithful to me, and thus came to this castle where we are. Since that\ntime Sir Nabon has held that castle as his own, ruling it in a very evil\nfashion. For you are to know that the castle sits very high upon the crags\noverlooking the sea, and whenever a vessel passeth by that way, Sir Nabon\ngoeth forth to meet it; and upon some of these crafts he levies toll, and\nother ships he sinks after slaying the mariners and sailor-folk who may by\nevil hap be aboard thereof. And if anyone is by chance cast ashore upon\nthat island, that one he either slays or holds for ransom, or makes thereof\na slave for to serve him. Because of this, very few ships now go by that\nway, for all people shun the coasts of so evil a country as that. So Sir\nNabon took that land away from me; nor have I any kin who will take up this\nquarrel for me, and so I must endure my losses as best I may.\"\n\n\"Ha!\" quoth Sir Tristram, \"and is there then no good knight-champion in\nthis country who will rid the world of such an evil being as that Sir Nabon\nof whom you speak?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the lady, \"there is no one who cares to offer challenge to that\nknight, for he is as strong and as doughty as he is huge of frame, and he\nis as fierce and cruel as he is strong and masterful, wherefore all men\nhold him in terror and avoid him.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"meseems it is the business of any knight to rid\nthe world of such a monster as that, whatever may be the danger to himself.\nNow as there is no knight hereabouts who hath heart to undertake such an\nadventure, I myself shall undertake it so soon as to-morrow shall have\ncome.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the lady, \"I beseech you to think twice before you enter into\nsuch an affair as that. Or rather be ruled by me and do not undertake this\nquest at all; for I misdoubt that anyone could conquer this huge and\npowerful champion, even if that knight were such as Sir Launcelot of the\nLake or Sir Tristram of Lyonesse.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram confesses his degree to the chatelaine] At this\nSir Tristram laughed with great good-will, and he said, \"Lady, do you not\nthen know who I am?\" \"Nay,\" said she, \"I know you not.\" \"Well,\" said Sir\nTristram, \"then I may tell you that I am that Sir Tristram of Lyonesse of\nwhom you spoke just now. And I also tell you that I shall undertake this\nadventure to-morrow morning.\"\n\nNow when the lady found that the stranger she had taken in was Sir Tristram\nof Lyonesse, she made great exclamation of surprise and pleasure at having\nhim at that place, for at that time all the world was talking of Sir\nTristram's performances. So she took great pleasure and pride that her\ncastle should have given him shelter. She made many inquiries concerning\nhis adventures, and Sir Tristram told her all she asked of him.\n\nThen the lady said: \"Messire, I hear tell that you sing very sweetly, and\nthat you are a wonderful harper upon the harp. Now will you not chaunt for\nme a song or two or three?\" And Sir Tristram said: \"Lady, I will do\nwhatsoever you ask me that may give you pleasure.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram sings to the lady] So the lady bade them bring a\nharp and they did so. And Sir Tristram took the harp and set it before him\nand tuned it and played upon it, and sang so sweetly that they of the\ncastle said: \"Certes, this is no knight-errant who sings, but an angel from\nParadise who hath come among us. For surely no one save an angel from\nParadise could sing so enchantingly.\"\n\nSo passed that evening very pleasantly until the hours waxed late. Then Sir\nTristram retired to a very noble apartment where a soft couch spread with\nflame-colored linen had been prepared for him, and where he slept a soft\nsleep without disturbance of any kind.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram departs for the island of Sir Nabon] Now when the\nnext morning had come, Sir Tristram armed himself and mounted upon his\nwar-horse, and rode him to a certain place on the shore. There he found\nsome mariners in haven with a large boat, and to these he paid ten pieces\nof silver money to bear him across the sea to that island where Sir Nabon\nle Noir abided. At first these mariners said they would not sail to such a\ncoast of danger and death; but afterward they said they would, and they did\ndo so. But still they would not bring Sir Tristram to land nigh to the\ncastle, but only at a place that was a great way off, and where they deemed\nthemselves to be more safe from the cruel lord of that land.\n\nAs for Sir Tristram he made merry with their fear, saying: \"It is well that\nwe who are knights-errant have more courage than you who are sailor-men,\nelse it would not be possible that monsters such as this Sir Nabon should\never be made an end of.\"\n\nUpon this the captain of these sailors replied: \"Well, Messire, for the\nmatter of that, it is true that mariners such as we have not much courage,\nfor we are the first of our order who have dared to come hither. But it is\nalso true that you are the first errant-knight who hath ever had courage to\ncome hither. So what say you for the courage of your own order?\" And at\nthat Sir Tristram laughed with great good will and rode his way.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram arrives at the castle of Sir Nabon] Thereafter he\nrode forward along the coast of that land for several leagues, with the\nnoise of the sea ever beating in his ears, and the shrill clamor of the\nsea-fowl ever sounding in the air about him. By and by he came to a place\nof certain high fells, and therefrom perceived before him in the distance a\ntall and forbidding castle standing upon a high headland of the coast. And\nthe castle was built of stone, that was like the rocks upon which it stood,\nso that at first one could not tell whether what one beheld was a part of\nthe cliffs or whether it was the habitation of man. But when Sir Tristram\nhad come somewhat nearer, he perceived the windows of the castle shining\nagainst the sky, and he saw the gateway thereof, and the roofs and the\nchimneys thereof, so that he knew that it was a castle of great size and\nstrength and no wall of rock as he had at first supposed it to be; and he\nwist that this must be the castle of that wicked and malignant knight, Sir\nNabon, whom he sought.\n\nNow as Sir Tristram wended his way toward that castle by a crooked path\nmeditating how he should come at Sir Nabon for to challenge him to battle,\nhe was by and by aware of a fellow clad in pied black and white, who walked\nalong the way in the direction that he himself was taking. At the first\nthat fellow was not aware of Sir Tristram; then presently he was aware of\nhim and turned him about, and beheld that a strange knight was riding\nrapidly down toward him upon a horse.\n\nThen at first that fellow stood like one struck with amazement; but in a\nmoment he cried out aloud as with a great fear, and instantly turned again\nand ran away, yelling like one who had gone mad.\n\nBut Sir Tristram thundered after him at speed, and, in a little, came up\nwith him, and catched him by the collar of his jerkin and held him fast.\nAnd Sir Tristram said: \"Fellow, who are you?\"\n\n\"Lord,\" quoth the fellow, \"I am an attendant upon the knight of yonder\ncastle, which same is hight Sir Nabon surnamed le Noir.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram talks with a knave of the earth] Then Sir Tristram\nsaid: \"Sirrah, why did you run from me when you first beheld me?\" And the\nfellow replied: \"Messire, you are the first stranger who hath dared to come\nhither to this country; wherefore, seeing you, and seeing that you rode\nupon horseback, and not knowing how you came to this land, I wist not\nwhether you were a man of flesh and blood, or whether you were a spirit\ncome hither for to punish us for our sins; so I ran away from you.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"as you see, I am no spirit, but a man of flesh\nand blood. Yet I have great hope that I have indeed been sent hither for to\npunish those who have done evil, for I come hither seeking the knight of\nyonder castle for to do battle with him in behalf of that lady whose lord\nhe slew so treacherously as I have heard tell. And I hope to take away from\nhim this island and return it to the Lady Loise, to whom it belongeth.\"\n\n\"Alas, Messire,\" quoth the fellow, \"this is for you a very sorry quest upon\nwhich you have come. For this Sir Nabon whom you seek is accounted to be\nthe most potent knight in all of the world. Yea; he is held to be a bigger\nknight than even Sir Launcelot of the Lake or Sir Tristram of Lyonesse or\nSir Lamorack of Gales. Wherefore I beseech you to turn about and go away\nwhither you have come whilst there is still the chance for you to escape.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram sends challenge to Sir Nabon] \"Gramercy for your\npity, good fellow,\" quoth Sir Tristram, \"and may God grant that it may not\nbe deserved. Nevertheless, in spite of the danger in this quest, I am still\nof the same mind as I was when I came hither. So do you presently go to\nyour lord and tell him from me that a knight hath come to do battle with\nhim upon the behalf of the lady to whom this island by rights belongeth.\"\n\nTherewith Sir Tristram let the fellow go, and he ran off with great speed\nand so away to the postern of the castle and entered in and shut the door\nbehind him.\n\nNow at that time Sir Nabon le Noir was walking along the wall of the\ncastle, and his son, who was a lad of seventeen years, was with him. There\nthe messenger from Sir Tristram found him and delivered his message.\nThereupon Sir Nabon looked over the battlements and down below and he\nbeheld that there was indeed a tall and noble knight seated upon horseback\nin a level meadow that reached away, descending inland from the foot of the\ncrags whereon the castle stood.\n\nBut when Sir Nabon perceived that a stranger knight had dared to come thus\ninto his country, he was filled with amazement at the boldness of that\nknight that he wist not what to think. Then, presently a great rage got\nhold upon him, and he ground his teeth together, and the cords on his neck\nstood out like knots on the trunk of a tree. For a while he stood as though\nbereft of speech; then anon he roared out in a voice like that of a bull,\ncrying to those who were near him: \"Go! Haste ye! Fetch me straightway my\nhorse and armor and I will go immediately forth and so deal with yonder\nchampion of ladies that he shall never take trouble upon their account\nagain.\"\n\nThen those who were in attendance upon Sir Nabon were terrified at his\nwords and ran with all speed to do his bidding, and presently fetched his\narmor and clad him in it; and they fetched his horse into the courtyard of\nthe castle and helped him to mount upon it. And lo! the armor of Sir Nabon\nwas as black as ink; and the great horse upon which he sat was black; and\nall the trappings and furniture of the armor and of the horse were black,\nso that from top to toe he was altogether as black and as forbidding as\nDeath himself.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Nabon rides forth to meet Sir Tristram] So when Sir Nabon\nwas thus in all wise prepared for battle, the portcullis of the castle was\nlifted up, and he rode forth to meet Sir Tristram; and his young son rode\nwith him as his esquire. Then all the people of the castle gathered\ntogether upon the walls to see that battle that was to be, and not one of\nthose several score of folk thought otherwise than that Sir Tristram would\ncertainly be overcome in that encounter.\n\nSir Nabon rode straight up to Sir Tristram and he said very fiercely,\n\"Sirrah, what is it brings you hither to this land?\"\n\n\"As to that,\" said Sir Tristram, \"the messenger whom I have sent to you\nhath, I believe, told you what I come for, and that it is to redeem this\nisland from your possession, and to restore it to the Lady Loise, to whom\nit belongeth. Likewise that I come to punish you for all the evil you have\ndone.\"\n\n\"And what business is all this of yours?\" quoth Sir Nabon, speaking with\ngreat fury of voice.\n\n\"Messire,\" quoth Sir Tristram, \"know ye not that it is the business of\nevery true knight to rid the world of all such evil monsters as you be?\"\n\n\"Ha!\" quoth Sir Nabon, \"that was very well said, for whatever mercy I\nshould have been willing before this to show you hath now been forfeited\nunto you. For now I shall have no mercy upon you but shall slay you.\"\n\n\"Well,\" quoth Sir Tristram, \"as for that, meseems it will be time enough to\noffer me mercy after you have overcome me in battle.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram does battle with Sir Nabon] So thereupon each\nknight took his place for assault, and when they were in all ways prepared,\neach set spurs to his horse and dashed the one against the other, with a\ndreadful, terrible fury of onset. Each smote the other in the very midst of\nhis shield, and at that blow the lance of each was altogether shivered into\npieces to the very truncheon thereof. But each knight recovered his horse\nfrom the fall and each leaped to earth and drew his sword, and each rushed\nagainst the other with such fury that it was as though sparks of pure fire\nflew out from the oculariums of the helmets. Therewith they met together,\nand each lashed and smote at the other such fell strokes that the noise\nthereof might easily have been heard several furlongs away. Now in the\nbeginning of that battle Sir Tristram was at first sore bestead and wist\nthat he had met the biggest knight that ever he had encountered in all of\nhis life, unless it was Sir Launcelot of the Lake, whom he had encountered\nas aforetold of in this history. So at first he bore back somewhat from the\nmight of the blows of Sir Nabon. For Sir Nabon was so huge of frame and the\nblows he struck were so heavy that they drove Sir Tristram back as it were\nin spite of himself.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram slays Sir Nabon] Then Sir Tristram began to say to\nhimself: \"Tristram, if you indeed lose this battle, then there will be no\none to defend your honor before Sir Launcelot who hath impeached it.\"\nTherewith it was as though new strength and life came back to him, and of a\nsudden he rushed that battle, and struck with threefold fury, and gave\nstroke upon stroke with such fierceness of strength that Sir Nabon was\nastonished and fell back before his assault. Then Sir Tristram perceived\nhow Sir Nabon held his shield passing low, and therewith he rushed in upon\nhim and smote him again and again and yet again. And so he smote Sir Nabon\ndown upon his knees. Then he rushed in upon him and catched his helmet and\nplucked it off from his head. And he catched Sir Nabon by the hair of his\nhead and drew his head forward. And Sir Tristram lifted his sword on high\nand he smote Sir Nabon's head from off his body so that it rolled down into\nthe dust upon the ground.\n\nNow when the son of Sir Nabon perceived how that his father was slain, he\nshrieked like a woman. And he fell down upon his knees and crawled upon his\nknees to Sir Tristram and catched him about the thighs, crying out to him,\n\"Spare me, and slay me not!\"\n\nBut Sir Tristram thrust him away and said, \"Who art thou?\"\n\n\"Messire,\" said the youth, \"I am the son of him whom thou hast just slain.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram slays the son of Sir Nabon] Then Sir Tristram\nlooked closely into his face, and he perceived that it was wicked and\ntreacherous and malevolent like to the face of Sir Nabon. Thereupon Sir\nTristram said: \"If a man shall slay the wolf and spare the whelp of the\nwolf, what shall the world be the better therefor?\" Therewith he catched\nthe son of Sir Nabon by the hair and dragged him down and smote off his\nhead likewise as he had smitten off the head of his father, so that it fell\nupon the ground beside the head of Sir Nabon.\n\nAnd now it shall be told how Sir Tristram discovered Sir Lamorack upon the\nisland and how he made amends to him, so that they became friends and\nbrethren-in-arms once more as they had been before.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Lamorack herds the swine of Sir Nabon]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Third\n\n\n_How Sir Tristram did justice in the island, and thereby released Sir\nLamorack from captivity. Also how Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorack renewed\ntheir great tenderness toward one another._\n\nNow after Sir Tristram had overcome Sir Nabon le Noir, and had slain the\nson of Sir Nabon as has been just told, he went straightway to the castle\nthat had been Sir Nabon's, and commanded that they should bring forth the\nseneschal and the officers thereof unto him. Meantime, being a little\nwounded in that battle, he sat himself down upon a bench of wood that stood\nin the hall of the castle, and there he held his court.\n\nSo, in a little while, there came the seneschal and several of the officers\nof the household to where Sir Tristram was, and when the seneschal came\nbefore Sir Tristram, he fell down upon his knees and besought pardon and\nmercy.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram talks with the castle help] Then Sir Tristram\nsaid: \"I will consider thy case anon, and if I may assure myself that thou\nand these others are truly repentant, and if I may have assurity that ye\nwill henceforth be faithful in your duty toward that lady who is now again\nthe mistress of this castle and land, then I shall have mercy. But if ye\nshow yourselves recreant and treacherous, according to the manners of this\nSir Nabon who is dead, then I shall of a surety return hither and shall\npunish you even as ye beheld me punish that wicked knight and his young\nson.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram said, \"Who is the porter of this castle?\" And the porter\nlifted his hand and said, \"Lord, I am he.\" Sir Tristram said, \"What\ncaptives have ye in this place?\" The porter said: \"Lord, there be four\nknights and three ladies who are held captive here for ransom.\" Then Sir\nTristram said, \"Bring them forth hither to me.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram comforts the captives] So the porter and several\nother of the castle folk departed with all speed and presently returned\nbringing with them those miserable captives whom they had liberated from\nthe dungeons of the castle. These they led to where Sir Tristram still sat\nin justice upon the bench of wood. And Sir Tristram looked upon them with\npity and beheld that they were in a very sad and forlorn condition and so\nsorrowful from their captivity that some of them wept from pure weakness of\nheart. Then Sir Tristram said: \"Comfort ye, and take no more sorrow to\nyourselves, for now your troubles are past and gone, and happiness lieth\nbefore you. Sir Nabon is dead, and so is his son, and there is no one now\nto torment you. Moreover, I dare say that there is much treasure gathered\nat this place by Sir Nabon, and all that treasure shall be divided amongst\nyou, for to comfort ye, wherefore when ye leave this place, ye shall go\naway a great deal richer than ye were when ye came.\"\n\nSo spake Sir Tristram, promising them much for to comfort them a little.\n\nAs to that treasure he spake of, ye shall immediately be told how it was.\nFor when Sir Tristram had summoned the treasurer of that place, he brought\nSir Tristram down into the vaults of the castle and there he beheld seven\nstrong chests bolted and locked. Then Sir Tristram summoned the locksmith\nof that castle; and the smith came and burst open the chests; and lo! the\neyes of all were astonished and bedazzled with the treasure which they\ntherewith beheld; for in those chests was heaped an incalculable treasure\nof gold and silver and precious gems of many divers sorts.\n\nAnd besides this treasure, you are to know that they found in that vault\nmany bales of cloths--some of silk and velvet, and some of tissues of cloth\nof gold and silver; and they found many precious ornaments, and many fine\nsuits of armor, and many other valuable things. For in several years Sir\nNabon had gathered all that treasure in toll from those ships that had\nsailed past that land.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram divides the treasure amongst the captives] All\nthis treasure Sir Tristram had them bring forth into the light of day, and\nhe divided it into seven equal parcels. Then he said to those sad,\nsorrowful captives: \"Look! See! all this shall be yours for to comfort ye!\nTake each of you one parcel and depart hence in joy!\" Then all they were\ngreatly astonished at Sir Tristram's generosity, and they said: \"Lord, how\nis this? Do you not then take any of this treasure for yourself?\"\n\nTo them Sir Tristram made reply: \"Nay, why should I take it? I am not sad,\nnor sick, nor troubled at heart as you poor captives are. All this I have\ntaken for to comfort you, and not for to satisfy my own covetousness. So\nlet each take his share of it and see that ye all use it in comfort and\npeace and for the advantage of other men and women who are in trouble as ye\nhave been. For, as hitherto this treasure hath been used for evil purpose,\nso shall it be henceforth that it shall be used to good purpose.\"\n\nSo there was great rejoicing amongst all those poor people who had been so\nsad and sorrowful before.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram appoints Sir Segwarides governor of the castle]\nNow, after all this had been settled, Sir Tristram cast about how he might\nput that land under good government upon behalf of the Lady Loise. To this\nintent he chose from amongst those captives whom he had liberated a certain\nvery worthy honorable knight of Cornwall hight Sir Segwarides. Him Sir\nTristram appointed to be governor of that island, giving him liberty to\nrule it as he chose saving only that he should do homage to the Lady Loise\nas lady paramount. And Sir Tristram ordained that Sir Segwarides should pay\ntribute to that lady every year such an amount as should be justly\ndetermined upon betwixt them. For Sir Tristram wist that some strong worthy\nknight should rule that island, or else, from its position, it might again\nsome time fall from the Lady Loise's possession into the hands of such an\nevil and malignant overlord as Sir Nabon had been.\n\nSo it was done as Sir Tristram had ordained. And it may here be said that\nSir Segwarides ruled that land very justly and that he and the Lady Loise\nbecame dear friends, so that at the end of three years from that time he\nand she were made husband and wife.\n\nNow Sir Tristram remained in that island several days, with intent to see\nto it that the power of Sir Segwarides should be established. And he made\nall the people of that land come before Sir Segwarides for to pledge\nobedience to him.\n\nAmongst these came Sir Lamorack in the guise of a swineherd, and Sir\nTristram knew him not, because that he was clad in rags and in the skins of\nanimals and because that his beard and his hair were uncut and unkempt, and\nhung down very shaggy upon his breast. But Sir Lamorack knew Sir Tristram\nyet would not acknowledge him, being ashamed that Sir Tristram should\ndiscover him in such a guise and so ragged and forlorn as he then was. So\nhe kept his eyes from Sir Tristram, and Sir Tristram passed him by and knew\nhim not.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram beholds Sir Lamorack's ring] But amongst other of\nthe people of the castle that passed before Sir Tristram, there came a\nwoman, very fair to look upon, and she had been a house-slave to Sir Nabon.\nAs this woman passed before Sir Tristram, he beheld that she wore upon her\nthumb a very fair and shining ring, that bare a green stone set in wrought\ngold. And when he looked again he saw it was that ring of carven emerald\nthat he had given to Sir Lamorack as aforetold.\n\nAt this Sir Tristram was astonished beyond measure, and he ordered that\nwoman to come before him, and she came and stood before him trembling. Then\nSir Tristram said: \"Fear not, but tell me where got ye that ring that I\nbehold upon your hand?\" And the woman said: \"Lord, I will tell you the very\ntruth. My husband is the chief fisherman of this place, and one day, some\nwhile ago, he gave me this ring when I had favor in his sight.\"\n\nSir Tristram said, \"Where is your husband?\" The slave-woman said, \"Yonder\nhe stands.\" Then Sir Tristram said: \"Come hither, Sirrah!\" And therewith\nthe fisherman came and stood before Sir Tristram as his wife had done, and\nhe also trembled with fear as she had done.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram questions the fisherman] To him Sir Tristram said,\n\"Why do you tremble so?\" And the fisher-man said, \"Lord, I am afeard!\" Sir\nTristram said: \"Have no fear, unless you have done wrong, but tell me the\ntruth. Where got ye that ring that yonder woman weareth?\" \"Lord,\" said the\nfisherman, \"I will tell you the perfect truth. One day I and several of my\nfellows found a man lying naked in a bed of heather near the seaside. At\nfirst we thought he was dead, but he awoke and arose when he heard our\nvoices. He was naked and hungry, and he besought us for clothes to cover\nhis nakedness and for food to eat. So we gave him what we could, demanding\nthat ring in payment. So he gave the ring to me, who am the chief of the\nfishermen, and I gave it to that woman who is my wife; and that, lord, is\nthe very truth.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram was very much disturbed in mind, for he feared that it\nmight have gone ill with Sir Lamorack. And he said, \"Where now is that man\nof whom ye speak?\" The fisherman replied: \"Lord, he was set to keep the\nswine, and he is the swineherd of the castle to this day.\"\n\nAt this Sir Tristram was very glad that no more ill had befallen Sir\nLamorack, and that he was yet alive.\n\nThen, after the fisherman had departed from that place, Sir Tristram sat\nfor a while sunk into deep thought. And he said to himself: \"Alas, that so\nnoble a knight should be brought to such a pass as that! How greatly must\nmy friend be abased when he would not acknowledge himself to me nor claim\nmy assistance because of the shame of his appearance! Meseems it is not\nfitting for me to send for him to come to me in the guise which he now\nwears, for it would be discourteous a thing for me to do, to make him so\ndeclare himself. So first I shall see to it that he is clothed in such a\nmanner as shall be fitting to his high estate, and then haply he will be\nwilling to make himself manifest to me. After that, perhaps his love will\nreturn to me again, and remain with me as it was at first.\"\n\nSo Sir Tristram called to him several of the people of that castle, and he\nbade them do certain things according to his command, and straightway they\ndeparted to do as he ordained.\n\nNow turn we to Sir Lamorack: whilst he sat keeping watch over his swine\nthere came to him four men from the castle. These say to him, \"You must\ncome straightway with us.\" Sir Lamorack said, \"Whither would you take me?\"\nThey say: \"That we are not permitted to tell you, only that you are to go\nwith us as we bid you.\"\n\nSo Sir Lamorack arose and went with those four, much wondering what it was\nthat was to befall him, and whether that which was to happen was good or\nevil.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Lamorack is brought to the castle] The four men brought him\nto the castle and they entered in thereat, and they escorted Sir Lamorack,\nstill greatly wondering, up the stairway of the castle, and so into a noble\nand stately apartment, hung with tapestries and embroidered hangings. And\nthere Sir Lamorack beheld a great bath of tepid water, hung within and\nwithout with linen. There were at this place several attendants; these took\nSir Lamorack and unclothed him and brought him to the bath, and bathed him\nand dried him with soft linen and with fine towels. Then there came the\nbarber and he shaved Sir Lamorack and clipped his hair, and when he was\nthus bathed and trimmed, his nobility shone forth again as the sun shines\nforth from a thick cloud that hides its effulgence for a while, only to\nwithdraw so that the glorious day-star may shine forth again with redoubled\nsplendor.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Lamorack is armed in armor] Then there came divers other\nattendants and clothed Sir Lamorack in rich and handsome garments such as\nwere altogether fitting for a knight-royal to wear. And after that there\ncame several esquires and brought a very splendid suit of armor; and they\nclad Sir Lamorack in that armor; and the armor gleamed as bright as\ndaylight, being polished to a wonderful clearness, and inlaid with figures\nof arabesqued silver.\n\nThen Sir Lamorack said, \"What means all this that ye do to me?\" And they\nsaid, \"Wait, Messire, and you shall see.\"\n\nSo after all these things were done, five other esquires appeared to\nconduct Sir Lamorack away from that place. These led him through several\npassages and hallways until at last they came to a great space of hall\nwherein stood a single man; and that man was Sir Tristram.\n\nAnd Sir Tristram gazed upon Sir Lamorack and his heart yearned over him\nwith great loving-kindness. But he would not betray his love to those who\nhad come with Sir Lamorack, so he contained himself for a little, and he\nsaid to those in attendance, \"Get ye gone,\" and straightway they departed.\n\nThen Sir Lamorack lifted up his eyes and he came to where Sir Tristram was\nstanding and he said: \"Is it thou, Tristram, who hath bestowed all these\nbenefits upon me?\" And he said: \"From thy nobility of soul such things may\nbe expected.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorack are reconciled] Then Sir Tristram\nwept for joy, and he said: \"Lamorack, it is little that I have done to\npleasure thee, and much that I have done to affront thee.\" Then Sir\nLamorack said: \"Nay; it is much that thou hast done to comfort me, and\nlittle to cause me discomfort. For lo! thou hast uplifted me from misery\ninto happiness, and thou hast brought me from nakedness and want into\nprosperity and ease, and what more may one man do for another man than\nthat?\"\n\n\"Lamorack,\" said Sir Tristram, \"there is much more than one man may do for\nanother man than that. For if one man hath given offence to another man, he\nmay be reconciled to that one so offended, and so the soul of that other\nshall be clothed with peace and joy, even as thy body hath been clothed\nwith garments of silk and fine linen.\" Then Sir Tristram took Sir Lamorack\nby the hand, and he said, \"Dear friend, art thou now strong and fresh of\nbody?\" And Sir Lamorack, greatly wondering, said, \"Ay.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I may now offer thee reparation for that\noffence which I one time unwillingly committed against thee. For lo! I have\nhad thee clad in the best armor that it is possible to provide, and now\nthat thou art fresh and hale and strong, I am ready to do battle with thee\nat any time thou mayst assign. For if, before, thou wert overcome because\nthou wert weary with battle, now thou mayst prove thy prowess upon me being\nboth strong and sound in wind and limb.\"\n\nBut upon this Sir Lamorack ran to Sir Tristram and catched him in his arms\nand kissed him upon the cheek. And he said: \"Tristram, thou art indeed a\nvery noble soul. I will do no battle with thee, but instead I will take\nthee into my heart and cherish thee there forever.\"\n\nSir Tristram said, \"Art thou altogether satisfied?\" And Sir Lamorack said,\n\"Yea.\" And therewith Sir Tristram wept for pure joy.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorack depart from the island] Then Sir\nTristram said: \"Let us go to Sir Launcelot of the Lake, so that I may make\nmy peace with him also. For he hath writ me a letter chiding me for having\ndone battle with thee when thou wert weary and winded with fighting. And I\nwas upon my way to see Sir Launcelot and to plead my cause with him when I\ncame hither by good hap, and was able to uplift thee out of thy distress.\"\nTo this Sir Lamorack said: \"I will go with thee to Sir Launcelot whenever\nit shall please thee; and I will bear full testimony to thy knightliness\nand to thy courtesy.\"\n\nSo when the next morning had come they took boat and sailed away from that\nisland. And the night of that day they abided at the castle of the Lady\nLoise, who gave thanks without measure to Sir Tristram for ridding the\nworld of so wicked and malign a being as Sir Nabon, and for restoring her\ninheritance of that land unto her again. And upon the morning of the next\nday those two good knights betook their way to Camelot, where they found\nSir Launcelot. There Sir Lamorack exculpated Sir Tristram, and Sir\nLauncelot immediately withdrew his rebuke for that battle which Sir\nTristram had aforetime done against Sir Lamorack.\n\nAfter that Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorack abode at the court of King Arthur\nfor nigh a year, and during that time they went upon many quests and\nadventures of various sorts--sometimes alone, sometimes together. All these\nhave been set down in ancient histories that tell of the adventures of Sir\nTristram and Sir Lamorack. Some of them I would like right well to tell you\nof, but should I undertake to do so, the story of those happenings would\nfill several volumes such as this. Nevertheless, I may tell you that they\ndid together many knightly deeds, the fame whereof hath been handed down to\nus in several histories of chivalry. Therein you may read of those things\nif you should care to do so.\n\nAll this I leave to tell you how Sir Tristram returned into Cornwall, and\nlikewise to tell you of one more famous adventure that he did at this time.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram hears from Cornwall of Sir Palamydes] Sir Tristram\nhad been at the court of King Arthur for about a year when one day there\ncame a messenger unto the court at Camelot with news that Sir Palamydes,\nthe Saracen knight aforetold of in this history, had through a cunning\ntrick seized the Lady Belle Isoult and had carried her away to a lonely\ntower in the forest of Cornwall. The messenger bore a letter from King Mark\nbeseeching Sir Tristram to return as immediately as possible unto Cornwall\nand to rescue that lady from her captivity. And the letter further said\nthat two knights of Cornwall had already essayed to rescue the Lady Belle\nIsoult, but that they had failed, having been overcome and sorely wounded\nin battle by Sir Palamydes. And the letter said that it was acknowledged by\nall men that Sir Tristram was the only knight of Cornwall who could achieve\nthe rescue of Belle Isoult from so wonderful and puissant a knight as Sir\nPalamydes.\n\nSo in answer to that letter, Sir Tristram immediately left the court of\nKing Arthur and returned in all haste to Cornwall, and there he found them\nall in great perturbation that the Lady Belle Isoult had thus been stolen\naway.\n\nBut Sir Tristram did not remain at court very long for, after he had\nobtained such information as he desired, he immediately left Tintagel and\nplunged into the forest with Gouvernail as his companion in quest of that\nlonely tower where Belle Isoult was said to be held prisoner.\n\nAfter several adventures of no great note he came at last very, very deep\ninto the forest and into an open space thereof; and in the midst of that\nopen space he beheld a lonely tower surrounded by a moat. And he wist that\nthat must be the place where the Lady Belle Isoult was held prisoner.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram finds Sir Palamydes in the forest] But when Sir\nTristram drew nigh to this tower he perceived a single knight sitting at\nthe base of the tower with head hanging down upon his breast as though he\nwere broken-hearted with sorrow. And when he came still more nigh, Sir\nTristram was astonished to perceive that that mournful knight was Sir\nPalamydes the Saracen, and he wondered why Sir Palamydes should be so\nbroken-hearted.\n\nAnd now it must be told why it was that Sir Palamydes came to be in such a\nsorry case as that; for the truth was that he was locked and shut outside\nof the tower, whilst the Lady Belle Isoult was shut and locked inside\nthereof.\n\nNow it hath already been told how the letter of King Mark had said to Sir\nTristram that two knights of Cornwall went both against Sir Palamydes for\nto challenge him and to rescue the Lady Belle Isoult.\n\nThe second of these knights was Sir Adthorp, and he had followed Sir\nPalamydes so closely through the forest that he had come to the forest\ntower not more than an hour after Sir Palamydes had brought the Lady Belle\nIsoult thither.\n\nTherewith Sir Adthorp gave loud challenge to Sir Palamydes to come forth\nand do him battle, and therewith Sir Palamydes came immediately out against\nhim, full of anger that Sir Adthorp should have meddled in that affair.\n\nBut immediately Sir Palamydes had thus issued forth to do battle with Sir\nAdthorp, the Lady Belle Isoult ran down the tower stairs and immediately\nshut the door through which he had passed, and she locked it and set a\ngreat bar of oak across the door.\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Palamydes came without the tower] So when Sir Palamydes\nhad overthrown the Cornish knight, and when he would have returned to the\ntower, he could not, for lo! it was fastened against him. So now for three\ndays he had set there at the foot of the tower and beside the moat, sunk in\nsorrow like to one who had gone out of his mind.\n\nSo Sir Tristram found him, and perceiving that it was Sir Palamydes who was\nsitting there, he said to Gouvernail: \"Go thou and bid that knight to come\nand do battle with me.\"\n\nSo Gouvernail went to Sir Palamydes and he said: \"Sir, arise, for here is a\nknight would speak with you!\" But Sir Palamydes would not move. Then\nGouvernail touched him with his lance, and said: \"Sir Palamydes, arise and\nbestir yourself, for here is Sir Tristram come to do battle with you.\" With\nthat, Sir Palamydes awoke from his stupor and arose very slowly and\nstiffly. And he gathered up his helmet which was lying beside him and put\nit upon his head. Then he took down his shield from where it hung against\nthe wall and he mounted upon his horse, doing all as though he were moving\nin a dream.\n\nBut as soon as he was upon horseback he suddenly aroused himself, for his\nfierce spirit had come back to him once more. Then he gnashed his teeth,\ncrying out in a loud voice, \"Tristram, this time either thou or I shall\nperish.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram overcomes Sir Palamydes] Therewith he rushed upon\nSir Tristram and smote him so violently that Sir Tristram had much ado to\ndefend himself. And Sir Palamydes smote him again and again; and with that\nSir Tristram smote in return. And if the blows of Sir Palamydes were\nterrible, the blows of Sir Tristram were terrible likewise. Then by and by\nSir Tristram smote Sir Palamydes so sore a buffet that the Saracen knight\nfell down from his horse and was unable immediately to arise. Then Sir\nTristram ran to him and rushed off his helmet and catched him by the hair\nwith intent to cut his head from off his body.\n\nBut with that the Lady Belle Isoult came running from out the tower and\ncried out: \"Tristram, is it thou? Spare that mistaken knight and have mercy\nupon him as thou hopest for mercy.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" said Sir Tristram, \"for thy sake and at thy bidding I will spare\nhim.\" Then he said to Sir Palamydes, \"Arise.\" And Sir Palamydes arose very\npainfully, and Sir Tristram said: \"Get thee hence, and go to the court of\nKing Arthur and make thy confession to the King and ask him to forgive\nthee, and if he forgive thee, then also I will forgive thee.\"\n\nTherewith Sir Palamydes mounted upon his horse and rode away without\nspeaking another word, his head bowed with sorrow upon his breast for shame\nand despair.\n\nThen Sir Tristram took the Lady Belle Isoult up behind him on his horse,\nand he and she and Gouvernail departed from that place.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram brings Belle Isoult back to Cornwall] So Sir\nTristram brought the Lady Isoult back to Cornwall, and there he was\nreceived with loud praise and great rejoicing, for everybody was glad that\nBelle Isoult had been brought safely back again.\n\nAnd now it shall be told what reward Sir Tristram received for this deed of\narms.\n\nFor, though at first King Mark was greatly beholden to Sir Tristram, that\nhe had thus rescued the Lady Belle Isoult, yet, by little and little, he\ngrew to hate that noble knight more bitterly than ever. For he heard men\nsay to one another: \"Lo, Sir Tristram is, certes, the very champion of\nCornwall, for who is there in this country is his equal?\" So King Mark,\nhearing these things said to himself: \"The more noble Tristram is, the more\nignoble will men deem me to be who am under obligations to such an enemy.\"\nSo he would say in his heart, \"Yea, Tristram; I hate thee more than death.\"\n\n\n\n\nPART III\n\n\nThe Madness of Sir Tristram\n\n_Here followeth the story of how Sir Tristram was driven out of Cornwall\nand of how he went mad because of his troubles. Likewise it shall be told\nhow he performed several very wonderful adventures whilst he was in that\nstate, and of how he was brought back into his senses again._\n\n[Illustration: Sir Tristram assaults King Mark]\n\n\n\n\nChapter First\n\n\n_How Sir Tristram was discovered with the Lady Belle Isoult; how he\nassaulted King Mark, and how he escaped from Tintagel into the forest._\n\nAfter Sir Tristram had thus rescued the Lady Belle Isoult from the hand of\nSir Palamydes, he dwelt very peacefully at the court of Cornwall for all of\nthat winter and until the spring that followed, and during that time he was\ngiven every meed of praise and honor. But although King Mark and his court\ngave praise to Sir Tristram with the lips, yet he and many of his people\nhated Sir Tristram at heart, and there were many mischief-makers about the\ncourt who were ever ready to blow the embers of the King's wrath into a\nflame.\n\nNow the chiefest of all these mischief-makers was Sir Andred, who was\nnephew unto King Mark, and cousin-germaine unto Sir Tristram. Sir Andred\nwas a fierce strong knight, and one very dextrous at arms; but he was as\nmean and as treacherous as Sir Tristram was generous and noble, wherefore\nhe hated Sir Tristram with great bitterness (though he dissembled that\nhatred) and sought for every opportunity to do Sir Tristram a harm by\nbringing him and the King into conflict.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Andred of Cornwall sets spies upon Sir Tristram] So Sir\nAndred set spies upon Sir Tristram, and he himself spied upon his cousin,\nyet neither he nor they were able to find anything with which to accuse Sir\nTristram. Then one day Sir Andred came to Sir Tristram and said: \"Sir, the\nLady Belle Isoult wishes to see you to talk with you.\" Sir Tristram said,\n\"Where is she?\"\n\nAnd Sir Andred said, \"She is in her bower.\" Then Sir Tristram said, \"Very\nwell, I will go to her.\"\n\nSo Sir Tristram arose and departed from where he was with intent to find\nthe lady; and therewith Sir Andred hurried to where King Mark was, and\nsaid: \"Lord, arise, for Sir Tristram and the Lady Isoult are holding\nconverse together.\"\n\nKing Mark said, \"Where are they?\" And Sir Andred said, \"They are in the\nbower of the Queen.\" At that King Mark's rage and jealousy blazed up into a\nflame, so that he was like one seized with a sudden frensy. So, in that\nmadness of rage, he looked about for some weapon with which to destroy Sir\nTristram, and he perceived a great sword where it hung against the wall.\nThereupon he ran to the sword and took it down from where it was, and ran\nwith all speed to that place where Sir Tristram and the Lady Isoult were,\nand Sir Andred guided him thither.\n\n[Sidenote: King Mark assaults Sir Tristram] And when King Mark reached the\nbower of the Lady Isoult he flung open the door and found Sir Tristram and\nthe Lady Isoult sitting together in the seat of a deep window. And he\nperceived that the Lady Isoult wept and that Sir Tristram's face was very\nsorrowful because of her sorrow. Then King Mark twisted him about and bent\ndouble as with a great pain, and then he cried out thrice in a voice very\nhoarse and loud: \"Traitor! Traitor! Traitor!\" Saying those words three\ntimes. Therewith he ran at Sir Tristram and struck furiously at him with\nthat sword he held, with intent to slay him.\n\nNow Sir Tristram was at that time altogether without armor and was clad in\nclothes of scarlet silk. Accordingly, he was able to be very quick and\nalert in his movements. So perceiving King Mark rushing upon him with\nintent to slay him he leaped aside and so avoided the blow. Then\nimmediately he rushed in upon King Mark and catched him by the wrist and\nwrenched the sword out of his hand.\n\nThen Sir Tristram was blinded with his rage and might have slain his uncle,\nbut the Lady Isoult, beholding the fury in his face, shrieked in a very\npiercing voice, \"Forbear! Forbear!\" And therewith he remembered him how\nthat King Mark was his mother's brother and that it was his hand that had\nmade him a knight.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram beats King Mark] So he turned the sword in his\nhand and he smote King Mark with the flat thereof again and again, and at\nthose blows King Mark was filled with terror so that he howled like a wild\nbeast. And King Mark fled away from that place, striving to escape, but Sir\nTristram ever pursued him, grinding his teeth like a wild boar in rage, and\nsmiting the King as he ran, over and over again, with the flat of the sword\nso that the whole castle was filled with the tumult and uproar of that\nassault.\n\nThen many of the knights of Cornwall came running with intent to defend the\nKing, and with them came Sir Andred. But when Sir Tristram saw them, his\nrage suddenly left the King and went out toward them; so therewith, naked\nof armor as he was, he rushed at them, and he struck at them so fiercely\nthat they were filled with the terror of his fury, and fled away from\nbefore his face. And Sir Tristram chased them through the courts of the\ncastle, striking right and left until he was weary with striking, and many\nhe struck down with the fierceness of his blows, and amongst them was Sir\nAndred who was sorely wounded. So after a while Sir Tristram grew weary of\nthat battle, and he cried out, \"Certes, these are not knights, but swine!\"\nAnd therewith he ceased striking, and allowed those who could do so to\nescape.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram departs from Tintagel] Thereafter he went to his\nchamber and armed himself without summoning Gouvernail, and after that he\ntook horse and rode away altogether from that place. And not even\nGouvernail went with him, but only his favorite hound, hight Houdaine,\nwhich same followed him into the forest as he rode thitherward. And in his\ngoing Sir Tristram looked neither to the right nor to the left but straight\nbefore him very proudly and haughtily, and no one dared to stay him in his\ngoing.\n\nYet, though he appeared so steadfast, he was like one who was\nbrokenhearted, for he wist that in going away from that place he was\nleaving behind him all that he held dear in the world, wherefore he was\nlike one who rode forth from a pleasant garden into an empty wilderness of\nsorrow and repining.\n\n[Sidenote: Gouvernail finds Sir Tristram in the forest] Then, some little\nwhile after Sir Tristram had gone, Gouvernail also took horse and rode into\nthe forest, and he searched for a long while in the forest without finding\nhis master. But after a while he came upon Sir Tristram seated under a tree\nwith his head hanging down upon his breast. And Houdaine lay beside Sir\nTristram and licked his hand, but Sir Tristram paid no heed to him, being\nso deeply sunk in his sorrow that he was unaware that Houdaine licked his\nhand in that wise.\n\nThen Gouvernail dismounted from his horse and came to where Sir Tristram\nwas, and Gouvernail wept at beholding the sorrow of Sir Tristram. And\nGouvernail said: \"Messire, look up and take cheer, for there must yet be\njoy for thee in the world.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram raised his eyes very slowly (for they were heavy and dull\nlike lead) and he looked at Gouvernail for some while as though not seeing\nhim. Then by and by he said: \"Gouvernail, what evil have I done that I\nshould have so heavy a curse laid upon me?\" Gouvernail said, still weeping:\n\"Lord, thou hast done no ill, but art in all wise a very noble, honorable\ngentleman.\" \"Alas!\" quoth Sir Tristram, \"I must unwittingly have done some\ngreat evil in God's sight, for certes the hand of God lieth grievously\nheavy upon me.\" Gouvernail said: \"Lord, take heart, and tell me whither\nshall we go now?\" And Sir Tristram said, \"I know not.\"\n\nThen Gouvernail said: \"Lord, let us go hence, I care not where, for I\nreckon nothing of storm or rain or snow or hail if it so be that I am with\nyou.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram bids Gouvernail return to Tintagel] Then Sir\nTristram looked upon Gouvernail and smiled, and he said: \"Gouvernail, it is\ngreat joy to me that you should love me so greatly as you do. But this time\nyou may not go with me whither I go, for the Lady Belle Isoult hath few\nfriends at the court of Cornwall, and many enemies, wherefore I would have\nyou return unto her for my sake, so that you may befriend her and cherish\nher when that I am no longer by her for to stand her friend in her hour of\nneed. And take this dog Houdaine with you and bid the Lady Belle Isoult for\nto keep him by her to remind her of my faithfulness unto her. For even as\nthis creature is faithful unto me under all circumstances, so am I faithful\nunto her whether she be glad or sorry, or in good or evil case. So return\nto Tintagel as I bid thee, and see that thou pay thy duty unto that lady\neven as thou payst it unto me. For she is so singularly dear unto me that,\neven as a man's heart is the life of his body, so is her happiness the life\nof my life.\"\n\nThen Gouvernail wept again in very great measure, and he said, \"Lord, I\nobey.\" Therewith he mounted his horse, still weeping with a great passion\nof sorrow, and rode away from that place, and Houdaine followed after him\nand Sir Tristram was left sitting alone in the deep forest.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram wanders in the forest mad] After that Sir Tristram\nwandered for several days in the forest, he knew not whither for he was\nbewildered with that which had happened; so that he ate no food and took no\nrest of any sort for all that time. Wherefore, because of the hardship he\nthen endured, he by and by became distraught in his mind. So, after a\nwhile, he forgot who he himself was, and what was his condition, or whence\nhe came or whither he wended. And because his armor weighed heavily upon\nhim, he took it off and cast it away from him, and thereafter roamed half\nnaked through the woodlands.\n\nNow upon the sixth day of this wandering he came to the outskirts of the\nforest and nigh to the coast of the sea at a spot that was not very far\naway was the castle of the Lady Loise, where he had once stayed at the time\nthat he undertook the adventure against Sir Nabon as aforetold. There,\nbeing exhausted with hunger and weariness, he laid himself down in the\nsunlight out beyond the borders of the forest and presently fell into a\ndeep sleep that was like to a swoon.\n\nNow it chanced at that time that there came that way a certain damsel\nattendant upon the Lady Loise. She perceiving that a man lay there on the\ngrass at the edge of the forest was at first of a mind to quit that place.\nThen, seeing that the man lay very strangely still as though he were dead,\nshe went forward very softly and looked into his face.\n\nNow that damsel had beheld Sir Tristram a great many times when he was at\nthe castle of the Lady Loise; wherefore now, in spite of his being so\nstarved and shrunken, and so unkempt and unshaved, she remembered his face\nand she knew that this was Sir Tristram.\n\nTherewith the damsel hurried away to the Lady Loise (and the lady was not a\nvery great distance away) and she said: \"Lady, yonder way there lieth a man\nby the forest side and I believe that it is Sir Tristram of Lyonesse. Yet\nhe is but half-clad and in great distress of body so that I know not of a\nsurety whether it is really Sir Tristram or not. Now I pray you come with\nme and look upon his face and see if you may know him.\"\n\nSo the Lady Loise went with the damsel to where Sir Tristram lay and looked\ninto his face, and she knew Sir Tristram in spite of his ill condition.\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady Loise finds Sir Tristram] Then the Lady Loise touched\nSir Tristram upon the shoulder and shook him, and thereupon Sir Tristram\nawoke and sat up. Then the Lady Loise said, \"Sir Tristram, is it thou who\nliest here?\" And Sir Tristram said, \"I know not who I am.\" The Lady Loise\nsaid, \"Messire, how came you here in this sad case?\" And Sir Tristram said:\n\"I know not whence I came, nor how I came hither, nor who I am, nor what it\nis that ails me, for I cannot hold my mind with enough steadiness to\nremember those things.\" Then the lady sighed for sorrow of Sir Tristram,\nand she said: \"Alas, Sir Tristram, that I should find you thus! Now I pray\nyou, lord, for to come with me to my castle which is hard by. There we may\ncare for you and may perhaps bring you back to health again.\"\n\nTo this Sir Tristram said: \"Lady, I may not go with you. For though I\ncannot remember whence I came, nor who I am, this much I know--I know that\nI am mad, and that the forest is the only fit place for such as I am come\nto be.\"\n\nThe lady said: \"Alas, Sir Tristram, thou wilt die if thou art left alone\nhere in the forest.\" And Sir Tristram said: \"Lady, I know not what you mean\nwhen you say I am to die. What is it to die?\" So at these words the Lady\nLoise saw how it was with Sir Tristram; that his brains were altogether\nturned; and she wist that some sore trouble must have befallen to bring him\nto such a pass. Then she bethought her of how dearly he loved the music of\nthe harp, and she said to herself: \"Mayhap by means of music I may bring\nhim back into his senses again.\" So she said to that damsel who had brought\nher thither: \"Go thou and bring hither my little harp of gold, and let us\nsee if music may charm him to remembrance.\"\n\nSo the damsel ran to the castle and brought the harp thence, and the Lady\nLoise took the harp and tuned it and struck it and played upon it. And the\nlady sang very sweetly a ballad that she knew Sir Tristram loved.\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady Loise harps to Sir Tristram] Then when Sir Tristram\nheard the sound of the music and singing he aroused himself. For first he\nlistened with great pleasure, and then he said, \"Give it to me! Give it to\nme!\" and he reached out his hands and would have taken the harp from the\nlady.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram comes to the Lady's castle] But the Lady Loise\nlaughed and shook her head, and she walked away from Sir Tristram and\ntoward the castle, still playing upon the little harp and singing; and Sir\nTristram followed close after, saying ever, \"Give it to me! Give it to me!\"\nand reaching out his hands for the harp. So the Lady Loise led him away\nfrom that place across the meadows; and she led him to the castle and into\nthe castle; and ever Sir Tristram followed after her, beseeching her for to\ngive the harp unto him. And the lady led Sir Tristram that way until she\nhad brought him to a fair room, and there she gave him the harp, and Sir\nTristram took it very eagerly into his hands and struck upon it and played\nand sang most sweetly and with great joy and pleasure.\n\nAfterward, being so much comforted, he ate and drank with appetite, and\nthen fell into a fair sound sleep.\n\nYet, though he so slept, still Sir Tristram's wits in no wise recovered\nthemselves; for when he awoke from that slumber he still could not remember\nwho he was or whence he came, neither could he remember the faces of any of\nthose who were around about him. But, though he was thus mad, he was still\ngentle and kind in his madness and courteous and civil to all those who\ncame nigh him.\n\nSo Sir Tristram remained a gentle captive in the castle of the Lady Loise\nfor nigh upon a month, and somewhiles she would sing and harp to him, and\notherwhiles he himself would harp and sing. But ever and anon, when he\nfound the chance for to do so, he would escape from the captivity of the\ncastle and seek the forest; for he was aware of his madness and he ever\nsought to hide that madness in the deep and shady woodland where only the\nwild creatures of the forest might see him.\n\nYet always when he so escaped the Lady Loise would take her little golden\nharp and go forth to the skirts of the forest and play upon it, and when\nthe music thereof would reach Sir Tristram's ears he would return to the\ncastle, being led thither by the music.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram quits the Lady's castle] But one day he wandered\nso far astray that the music of the harp could not reach his ears, and then\nhe wandered on farther and farther until he was altogether lost. At that\nLady Loise took much sorrow for she had much love for Sir Tristram. So she\nsent many of her people to search the forest for him, but none of these\nwere able to find him and thereafter he came no more to the castle.\n\nThus Sir Tristram escaped from that castle and after that he wandered in\nthe forest as he had done at the first. And in that time he took no food\nand but little rest. And the brambles tore his clothes, so that in a short\ntime he was wellnigh altogether naked.\n\nAnd somewhiles during this time of wandering he would be seized as with a\nfury of battle, and in such case he would shout aloud as though in\nchallenge to an enemy. And then he would rend and tear great branches from\nthe trees in the fury of his imaginings. But otherwhiles he would wander\nthrough the leafy aisles of the forest in gentler mood, singing so sweetly\nthat had you heard him you would have thought that it was some fairy spirit\nof the forest chanting in those solitudes.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram dwells with the swineherds] So he wandered until\nhe failed with faintness, and sank down into the leaves; and I believe that\nhe would then have died, had it not been that there chanced to come that\nway certain swineherds of the forest who fed their swine upon acorns that\nwere to be therein found. These found Sir Tristram lying there as though\ndead, and they gave him to eat and to drink so that he revived once more.\nAfter that they took him with them, and he dwelt with them in those\nwoodlands. There these forest folk played with him and made merry with him,\nand he made them great sport. For he was ever gentle and mild like a little\nchild for innocence so that he did no harm to anyone, but only talked in\nsuch a way that the swineherds found great sport in him.\n\nNow Sir Andred of Cornwall very greatly coveted the possessions of Sir\nTristram, so that when several months had passed by and Sir Tristram did\nnot return to Tintagel, he said to himself: \"Of a surety, Tristram must now\nbe dead in the forest, and, as there is no one nigher of kin to him than I,\nit is altogether fitting that I should inherit his possessions.\"\n\nBut as Sir Andred could not inherit without proof of the death of Sir\nTristram, he suborned a certain very beautiful but wicked lady who dwelt in\nthe forest, persuading her that she should give false evidence of Sir\nTristram's death. Accordingly, he one day brought that lady before King\nMark, and she gave it as her evidence that Sir Tristram had died in the\nforest and that she had been with him when he died. And she showed them a\nnew-made grave in the forest, and she said: \"That is the grave of Sir\nTristram, for I saw him die and I saw him buried there with mine own eyes.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Adred seizes Sir Tristram's possessions] So everybody\nbelieved this evidence, and thought that Sir Tristram was really dead, and\nso Sir Andred seized upon all the possessions of Sir Tristram. And there\nwere many who were very sorry that Sir Tristram was dead and there were\nothers who were glad thereof in the same measure. But when the news was\nbrought to Belle Isoult that Sir Tristram was dead, she shrieked aloud and\nswooned away. And she lay in that swoon so long that they thought for a\nwhile she would never recover from it. But by and by she awoke therefrom,\ncrying, \"Would to God that I were dead with Tristram and had never\nawakened!\"\n\nAnd thereafter she mourned continually for Sir Tristram and would not be\ncomforted; for she was like to a woman who hath been widowed from a lover\nof her youth.\n\nAnd now it shall be told of how it fared with Sir Tristram in the forest\nwhere he dwelt with the swineherds, and of how he achieved a very notable\nadventure therein.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Kay and the Forest Madman]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Second\n\n\n_How Sir Tristram got him a sword from Sir Kay and how he slew therewith a\nhuge knight in the forest and rescued a lady in very great distress. Also\nhow Sir Launcelot found Sir Tristram in the forest and brought him thence\nto Tintagel again._\n\nNow it chanced one day that Sir Kay the Seneschal came riding through those\nparts of the forest where Sir Tristram abided with the swineherds, and with\nSir Kay there came a considerable court of esquires. And with him besides\nthere travelled Sir Dagonet, King Arthur's Fool.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Kay and Sir Dagonet come to the forest] Now, you are to\nknow that though Sir Dagonet was the King's jester, and though he was slack\nof wit, yet he was also a knight of no mean prowess. For he had performed\nseveral deeds of good repute and was well held in all courts of chivalry.\nSo Sir Dagonet always went armed; though he bore upon his shield the device\nof a cockerel's head as a symbol of his calling.\n\nThe time that Sir Kay and his court travelled as aforesaid was in the\nsummer season and the day was very warm, so that Sir Kay was minded to take\nrest during the midday and until the coolness of the afternoon should come.\nSo they all dismounted from their horses and sat them down under the shade\nof the trees where it was cool and pleasant and where the breezes reached\nthem to breathe upon their faces.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Dagonet wanders in the woodland] But whilst Sir Kay and his\ncourt thus rested themselves, Sir Dagonet must needs be gadding, for he was\nof a very restless, meddlesome disposition. So, being at that time clad\nonly in half armor, he wandered hither and thither through the forest as\nhis fancy led him. For somewhiles he would whistle and somewhiles he would\ngape, and otherwhiles he would cut a caper or two. So, as chance would have\nit, he came by and by to that open glade of the forest where the swineherds\nwere gathered; and at that time they were eating their midday meal of black\nbread and cheese, and were drinking beer; some talking and laughing and\nothers silent as they ate their food. Unto these Sir Dagonet appeared,\ncoming out of the forest in very gay attire, and shining in the half armor\nhe wore, so that he appeared like a bright bird of the woodland.\n\nThen Sir Dagonet, seeing where those rude boors were eating their meal of\nfood, came to them and stood amongst them. And he said, \"Who are ye\nfellows?\" Whereunto they replied, \"We are swineherds, Messire; who be ye?\"\n\nQuoth Sir Dagonet: \"I am King Arthur's Fool. And whilst there are haply\nmany in the world with no more wits than I possess, yet there are few so\nhonest as I to confess that they are fools.\"\n\nAt these words those swineherds laughed very loudly. \"Well,\" quoth one, \"if\nKing Arthur hath his fool, so have we, and yonder he is,\" and therewith he\npointed to where Sir Tristram lay in the shade of the trees some distance\naway and beside a deep well of the forest.\n\nUpon that Sir Dagonet must needs go to where Sir Tristram lay, nearly\nnaked, upon the ground. And when he had come there he said, \"Arise, fool.\"\nWhereunto Sir Tristram replied: \"Why should I arise? Lo! I am weary.\"\n\nThen Sir Dagonet said: \"It is not fitting that thou, who art the fool of\nswineherds shouldst lie upon the grass, whilst I who am the fool of a king\nstand upright upon my shanks. So, fool, I bid thee bestir thyself and\narise.\"\n\nBut Sir Tristram said, \"I will not arise.\" And therewith Sir Dagonet took\nhis sword and pricked the thigh of Sir Tristram with the point thereof with\nintent to make him bestir himself.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram souses Sir Dagonet in the well] Now when Sir\nTristram felt the prick of Sir Dagonet's sword, a certain part of his\nmemory of knighthood came back to him and he was seized with a sudden fury\nagainst Sir Dagonet. So he arose and ran at Sir Dagonet and catched him in\nhis arms, and lifted Sir Dagonet off his feet and he soused him in the well\nfour or five times so that he was like to have drowned him.\n\nAs for those swineherds, when they saw what their fool did to that other\nfool, they roared with laughter so that some of them rolled down upon the\nground and lay grovelling there for pure mirth. But others of them called\nout to Sir Tristram, \"Let be, or thou wilt drown that man\"; and therewith\nSir Tristram let Sir Dagonet go, and Sir Dagonet ran away.\n\nNor did Sir Dagonet cease to run until he came to his party under the shade\nof the trees. But when Sir Kay perceived what a sorry plight it was in\nwhich Sir Dagonet appeared, he said, \"What hath befallen thee?\"\n\nTo this Sir Dagonet replied as follows: \"Messire, I, who am a fool, went\ninto the forest and met another fool. I fool would have a jest with he\nfool, but he fool catched I fool and soused I fool in a well of cold water.\nSo it came about that while I fool had the jest, he fool had the sport of\nthe jest.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Kay seeks to avenge Sir Dagonet] Then Sir Kay understood in\nsome manner what had befallen, and he was very angry that Sir Dagonet\nshould have been so served. Wherefore he said, \"Where did this befall\nthee?\" And Sir Dagonet said, \"Over yonder ways.\" Then Sir Kay said: \"I will\navenge thee for the affront that hath been put upon thee. For no boor shall\nserve a knight of King Arthur's court in such a fashion!\" So therewith Sir\nKay arose and put on his armor and mounted his horse and rode away; and\nafter a while he came to that place where the swineherds were.\n\nThen Sir Kay said very sternly: \"Which of ye is that boor who put so\ngrievous an affront upon a gentleman of my party?\" The swineherds say:\n\"Yonder he is lying by the well; but he is slack of wit, wherefore we\nbeseech you to do him no harm.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram souses Sir Kay in the water] Then Sir Kay rode to\nwhere Sir Tristram was, and he said: \"Sirrah, why did you souse Sir Dagonet\ninto the water?\" To this Sir Tristram did not reply, but only looked at Sir\nKay and laughed, for it pleased him wonderfully to behold that knight all\nin shining armor. But when Sir Kay beheld Sir Tristram laugh in that wise,\nhe waxed exceedingly wroth. Wherefore he drew his sword straightway, and\nrode at Sir Tristram with intent to strike him with the blade thereof. But\nwhen Sir Tristram saw the sword of Sir Kay shining like lightning in the\nsunlight, somewhat of his knightly spirit arose within him and took wing\nlike to a bird springing up out of the marish grass into the clear air. For\nbeholding that bright flashing sword he cried out aloud and arose and came\nvery steadily toward Sir Kay, and Sir Kay rode toward Sir Tristram. Then\nwhen Sir Kay had come near enough to strike, he arose in his stirrups and\nlifted the blade on high with intent to strike Sir Tristram with it. But\ntherewith Sir Tristram ran very quickly in beneath the blow, so that the\nstroke of Sir Kay failed of its mark. Then Sir Tristram leaped up and\ncatched Sir Kay around the body and dragged him down from off his horse\nvery violently upon the ground, and with that the sword of Sir Kay fell\ndown out of his hands and lay in the grass. Then Sir Tristram lifted up Sir\nKay very easily and ran with him to the well of water and soused him\ntherein several times until Sir Kay cried out, \"Fellow, spare me or I\nstrangle!\" Upon that Sir Tristram let go Sir Kay, and Sir Kay ran to his\nhorse and mounted thereon and rode away from that place with might and\nmain, all streaming with water like to a fountain.\n\nAnd all that while those swineherds roared with great laughter, ten times\nlouder than they had laughed when Sir Tristram had soused Sir Dagonet into\nthe well.\n\nThen Sir Tristram beheld the sword of Sir Kay where it lay in the grass and\nforthwith he ran to it and picked it up. And when he held it in his hands\nhe loved it with a great passion of love, wherefore he hugged it to his\nbosom and kissed the pommel thereof.\n\nBut when the swineherds beheld the sword in Sir Tristram's hands, they\nsaid, \"That is no fit plaything for a madman to have,\" and they would have\ntaken it from him, but Sir Tristram would not permit them, for he would not\ngive them the sword, and no one dared to try to take it from him.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram keeps the sword of Sir Kay] So thereafter he kept\nthat sword ever by him both by night and by day, and ever he loved it and\nkissed it and fondled it; for, as aforesaid, it aroused his knightly spirit\nto life within him, wherefore it was he loved it.\n\nSo it hath been told how Sir Tristram got him a sword, and now it shall be\ntold how well he used it.\n\nNow there was at that time in the woodlands of that part of Cornwall a\ngigantic knight hight Sir Tauleas, and he was the terror of all that\ndistrict. For not only was he a head and shoulders taller than the tallest\nof Cornish men, but his strength and fierceness were great in the same\ndegree that he was big of frame. Many knights had undertaken to rid the\nworld of this Sir Tauleas, but no knight had ever yet encountered him\nwithout meeting some mishap at his hands.\n\n(Yet it is to be said that heretofore no such knight as Sir Launcelot or\nSir Lamorack had come against Sir Tauleas, but only the knights of Cornwall\nand Wales, whose borders marched upon that district where Sir Tauleas\nranged afield.)\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Daynant and his lady come to the forest] Now one day there\ncame riding through the forest a very noble, gallant young knight, hight\nSir Daynant, and with him rode his lady, a beautiful dame to whom he had\nlately been wedded with a great deal of love. These wayfarers in their\ntravelling came to that part of the forest where the swineherds abode, and\nwhere were the open glade of grass and the fair well of water aforespoken\nof.\n\nHereunto coming, and the day being very warm, these two travellers\ndismounted and besought refreshment of the swineherds who were there, and\nthose rude good fellows gladly gave them to eat and to drink of the best\nthey had.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Daynant regards Sir Tristam] Whilst they ate, Sir Tristram\ncame and sat nigh to Sir Daynant and his lady and smiled upon them, for he\nloved them very greatly because of their nobility and beauty. Then Sir\nDaynant looked upon Sir Tristram and beheld how strong and beautiful of\nbody and how noble of countenance he was, and he saw that beautiful shining\nsword that Sir Tristram carried ever with him. And Sir Daynant said, \"Fair\nfriend, who are you, and where gat ye that sword?\"\n\n\"I know not who I am,\" said Sir Tristram, \"nor know I whence I came nor\nwhither I go. As for this sword, I had it from a gentleman who came hither\nto us no great while ago.\"\n\nThen the chiefest of the swineherds said: \"Lord, this is a poor madman whom\nwe found naked and starving in the forest. As for that sword, I may tell\nyou that he took it away from a knight who came hither to threaten his\nlife, and he soused that knight into the well so that he was wellnigh\ndrowned.\"\n\nSir Daynant said: \"That is a very strange story, that a naked madman should\ntake the sword out of the hands of an armed knight and treat that knight as\nye tell me. Now maybe this is some famous hero or knight who hath lost his\nwits through sorrow or because of some other reason, and who hath so come\nto this sorry pass.\"\n\n(So said Sir Daynant, and it may here be said that from that time those\nrude swineherds began to look upon Sir Tristram with different eyes than\nbefore, saying amongst themselves: \"Maybe what that knight said is true,\nand this is indeed no common madman.\")\n\nNow whilst Sir Daynant sat there with his lady, holding converse with the\nswineherds concerning Sir Tristram in that wise, there came a great noise\nin the forest, and out therefrom there came riding with great speed that\nhuge savage knight Sir Tauleas aforetold of. Then Sir Daynant cried out,\n\"Alas, here is misfortune!\" And therewith he made all haste to put his\nhelmet upon his head.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tauleas strikes down Sir Daynant] But ere he could arm\nhimself in any sufficient wise, Sir Tauleas drave down very fiercely upon\nhim. And Sir Tauleas rose up in his stirrups and lashed so terrible a blow\nat Sir Daynant that it struck through Sir Daynant's helmet and into his\nbrain-pan, wherefore Sir Daynant immediately fell down to the ground as\nthough he had been struck dead.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tauleas bears away the lady] Then Sir Tauleas rode\nstraightway to where the lady of Sir Daynant was, and he said: \"Lady, thou\nart a prize that it is very well worth while fighting for! And lo! I have\nwon thee.\" Therewith he catched her and lifted her up, shrieking and\nscreaming and struggling, and sat her upon the saddle before him and held\nher there maugre all her struggles. Then straightway he rode away into the\nforest, carrying her with him; and all that while Sir Tristram stood as\nthough in a maze, gazing with a sort of terror upon what befell and not\nrightly knowing what it all meant. For there lay Sir Daynant as though dead\nupon the ground, and he could yet hear the shrieks of the lady sounding out\nfrom the forest whither Sir Tauleas had carried her.\n\nThen the chief of the swineherds came to Sir Tristram, and said: \"Fellow,\nas thou hast a sword, let us see if thou canst use it. If thou art a hero\nas that knight said of thee a while since, and not a pure madman, then\nfollow after that knight and bring that lady back hither again.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram follows Sir Tauleas] Then Sir Tristram awoke from\nthat maze and said, \"I will do so.\" And therewith he ran away very rapidly\ninto the forest, pursuing the direction that Sir Tauleas had taken. And he\nran for a great distance, and by and by, after a while, he beheld Sir\nTauleas before him where he rode. And by that time the lady was in a deep\nswoon and lay as though dead across the saddle of Sir Tauleas. Then Sir\nTristram cried out in a great voice: \"Stay, Sir Knight, and turn this way,\nfor I come to take that lady away from thee and to bring her back unto her\nfriend again!\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram slays Sir Tauleas] Then Sir Tauleas turned him and\nbeheld a naked man running after him with a sword in his hand, whereupon he\nwas seized with a great rage of anger, so that he put that lady he carried\ndown to the ground. And he drew his sword and rushed at Sir Tristram very\nviolently with intent to slay him. And when he came nigh to Sir Tristram he\narose up on his stirrups and lashed so terrible a blow at him that, had it\nmet its mark, it would have cloven Sir Tristram in twain. But Sir Tristram\nleaped aside and turned the blow very skilfully; and therewith a memory of\nhis knightly prowess came upon him and he, upon his part, lashed a blow at\nSir Tauleas that Sir Tauleas received very unexpectedly. And that blow\nstruck Sir Tauleas so terrible a buffet upon the head that the brain of Sir\nTauleas swam, and he swayed about and then fell down from off his horse.\nTherewith Sir Tristram ran to him and rushed his helmet from off his head.\nAnd when he beheld the naked head of Sir Tauleas he catched it by the hair\nand drew the neck of Sir Tauleas forward. Then Sir Tauleas cried out,\n\"Spare me, fellow!\" But Sir Tristram said, \"I will not spare thee for thou\nart a wicked man!\" And therewith he lifted his sword on high and smote off\nthe head of Sir Tauleas so that it rolled down upon the ground.\n\nAfter that, Sir Tristram went to the Lady and he chafed her hands and her\nface so that she revived from her swoon. And when she was revived, he said:\n\"Lady, take cheer; for look yonder and thou wilt see thy enemy is dead, and\nso now I may take thee back again unto thy friend.\" And therewith the lady\nsmiled upon Sir Tristram and catched his hand in hers and kissed it.\n\nThen Sir Tristram lifted the lady upon the horse of Sir Tauleas, and after\nthat he went back again to where he had left Sir Daynant and the\nswineherds; and he led the horse of Sir Tauleas by the bridle with the lady\nupon the back thereof and he bore the head of Sir Tauleas in his hand by\nthe hair.\n\nBut when those swineherds saw Sir Tristram come forth thus out of the\nforest bringing that lady and bearing the head of Sir Tauleas, they were\namazed beyond measure, and they said to one another: \"Of a certainty what\nthis young knight hath just said is sooth and this madman is indeed some\ngreat champion in distress. But who he is no one may know, since he himself\ndoth not know.\"\n\nAnd when Sir Daynant had recovered from that blow that Sir Tauleas had\ngiven him, he also gave Sir Tristram great praise for what he had done. And\nSir Tristram was abashed at all the praise that was bestowed upon him.\n\nThen Sir Daynant and his lady besought Sir Tristram that he would go with\nthem to their castle so that they might care for him, but Sir Tristram\nwould not, for he said: \"I wist very well that I am mad, and so this forest\nis a fit place for me to dwell and these kind rude fellows are fit\ncompanions for me at this time whilst my wits are wandering.\"\n\nThus it was with this adventure. And now you shall hear how Sir Launcelot\nfound Sir Tristram in the forest and how he brought him out thence and\nlikewise what befell thereafter.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot enters the forest] For only the next day after\nall these things had happened, Sir Launcelot came riding through the forest\nthat way, seeking for Sir Tauleas with intent to do battle with him because\nof his many evil deeds. For Sir Launcelot purposed either to slay him or\nelse to bring him captive to King Arthur.\n\nSo it came to pass that Sir Launcelot came to that place where Sir Tristram\nand the swineherds abode.\n\nThere Sir Launcelot made pause for to rest and to refresh himself, and\nwhilst he sat with his helmet lying beside him so that the breezes might\ncool his face, all those rude swineherds gathered about and stared at him.\nAnd Sir Launcelot smiled upon them, and he said: \"Good fellows, I pray you\ntell me; do you know where, hereabouts, I shall find a knight whom men call\nSir Tauleas?\"\n\nUnto this the chief swineherd made reply, saying: \"Lord, if you come hither\nseeking Sir Tauleas, you shall seek him in vain. For yesterday he was\nslain, and if you look yonder way you may see his head hanging from a\nbranch of a tree at the edge of the glade.\"\n\nUpon this Sir Launcelot cried out in great amazement, \"How hath that come\nto pass?\" and therewith he immediately arose from where he sat and went to\nthat tree where the head hung. And he looked into the face of the head, and\ntherewith he saw that it was indeed the head of Sir Tauleas that hung\nthere. Then Sir Launcelot said: \"This is very wonderful. Now I pray you,\ntell me what knight was it who slew this wicked wretch, and how his head\ncame to be left hanging here?\"\n\nTo this the chief of the swineherds made reply: \"Messire, he who slew Sir\nTauleas was no knight, but a poor madman whom we found in the forest and\nwho has dwelt with us now for a year past. Yonder you may see him, lying\nhalf naked, sleeping beside that well of water.\"\n\nSir Launcelot said, \"Was it he who did indeed slay Sir Tauleas?\" And the\nswineherd said, \"Yea, lord, it was he.\"\n\nSir Launcelot said, \"Do ye not then know who he is?\" The swineherd replied:\n\"No, lord, we only know that one day we found him lying in the forest naked\nand nigh to death from hunger and that we fed him and clothed him, and that\nsince then he hath dwelt ever with us, showing great love for us all.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot went to where Sir Tristram lay, and he looked upon him\nas he slept and he knew him not; for the beard and the hair of Sir Tristram\nhad grown down all over his breast and shoulders and he was very ragged and\nbeaten by the weather. But though Sir Launcelot knew him not, yet he beheld\nthat the body of Sir Tristram was very beautiful and strong, for he saw how\nall the muscles and thews thereof were cut very smooth and clean as you\nmight cut them out of wax, wherefore Sir Launcelot gazed for a long while\nand felt great admiration for his appearance.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot regards Sir Tristam] Then Sir Launcelot beheld\nhow the sleeping man held a naked sword in his arms very caressingly, as\nthough he loved it, and thereat he was very much surprised to find such a\nsword as that in the hands of this forest madman. Wherefore he said to\nthose swineherds, \"Where got this man that sword?\"\n\n\"Messire,\" said the swineherd who had afore spoken, \"some while since there\ncame a knight hitherward who ill-treated him. Thereupon this poor man ran\nat the knight and overthrew him and took the sword away from him and soused\nhim several times in the well. After that he hath ever held fast to this\nsword and would not give it up to any of us.\"\n\n\"Ha!\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that is a very wonderful story, that a naked man\nshould overthrow an armed knight and take his sword away from him. Now I\ndeem that this is no mere madman, but some noble knight in misfortune.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot awakens Sir Tristram] Therewith he reached\nforward and touched Sir Tristram very gently on the shoulder, and at that\nSir Tristram awoke and opened his eyes and sat up. And Sir Tristram looked\nupon Sir Launcelot, but knew him not, albeit some small memory moved very\ndeeply within him. Nevertheless, though he knew not Sir Launcelot, yet he\nfelt great tenderness for that noble knight in arms, and he smiled very\nlovingly upon him. And Sir Launcelot felt in return a very great deal of\nregard for Sir Tristram, but wist not why that was; yet it seemed to Sir\nLauncelot that he should know the face of Sir Tristram, and that it was not\naltogether strange to him.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot said, \"Fair friend, was it thou who slew Sir Tauleas?\"\nAnd Sir Tristram said, \"Ay.\" Sir Launcelot said, \"Who art thou?\" Whereunto\nSir Tristram made reply: \"I know not who I am, nor whence I come, nor how I\ncame hither.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot felt great pity and tenderness for Sir Tristram, and he\nsaid: \"Friend, wilt thou go with me away from this place and into the\nhabitations of men? There I believe thy mind maybe made whole again, and\nthat it may be with thee as it was beforetime. And verily, I believe that\nwhen that shall come to pass, the world shall find in thee some great\nknight it hath lost.\"\n\nSir Tristram said: \"Sir Knight, though I know not who I am, yet I know that\nI am not sound in my mind; wherefore I am ashamed to go out in the world\nand amongst mankind, but would fain hide myself away in this forest. Yet I\nlove thee so much that, if thou wert to bid me go with thee to the ends of\nthe world, I believe I would go with thee.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot smiled upon Sir Tristram very kindly and said, \"I do bid\nthee come with me away from here,\" and Sir Tristram said, \"I will go.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram quits the forest with Sir Launcelot] So Sir\nLauncelot bade the swineherds clothe Sir Tristram in such a wise that his\nnakedness might be covered, and he bade them give Sir Tristram hosen and\nshoon, and when Sir Tristram was thus decently clad, Sir Launcelot made\nready to take his departure from that place.\n\nBut ere the two left, all those good fellows crowded around Sir Tristram,\nand embraced him and kissed him upon the cheek; for they had come to love\nhim a very great deal.\n\nThen the two went away through the forest, Sir Launcelot proudly riding\nupon his great horse and Sir Tristram running very lightly beside him.\n\nBut Sir Launcelot had other business at that time than to seek out Sir\nTauleas as aforetold. For at that time there were three knights of very\nill-repute who harried the west coast of that land that overlooked the sea\ntoward the Kingdom of Ireland, and Sir Launcelot was minded to seek them\nout after he had finished with Sir Tauleas. So ere he returned to the court\nof King Arthur he had first of all to go thitherward.\n\nNow you are to know that the castle of Tintagel lay upon the way that he\nwas to take upon that adventure, and so it was that he brought Sir Tristram\nto the castle of Tintagel, where King Mark of Cornwall was then holding\ncourt. For Sir Launcelot was minded to leave Sir Tristram there whilst he\nwent upon that adventure aforetold of.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram comes to Tintagel] And Sir Launcelot was received\nin Tintagel with very great honor and acclaim, for it was the first time he\nhad ever been there. And King Mark besought Sir Launcelot for to abide a\nwhile in Tintagel; but Sir Launcelot refused this hospitality, saying: \"I\nhave an adventure to do for the sake of my master, King Arthur, and I may\nnot abide here at this present. But I pray you to grant me a favor, and it\nis this: that you cherish this poor madman whom I found in the forest, and\nthat you keep him here, treating him kindly until I shall return from the\nquest I am upon. For I have great love for this poor fellow and I would not\nhave any harm befall him whilst I am away.\"\n\nThen King Mark said: \"I am sorry you will not remain with us, but as to\nthis thing it shall be done as you desire, for we will cherish and care for\nthis man while you are away.\" So said King Mark, speaking with great\ncheerfulness and courtesy; for neither he nor any of his court at that time\nwist who Sir Tristram was.\n\nSo Sir Launcelot went upon his way, and King Mark gave orders that Sir\nTristram should be well-clothed and fed, and it was done as he commanded.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThus it was that Sir Tristram was brought back to the castle of Tintagel\nagain. And now it shall be told how it befell with him thereat.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Tristram leaps into ye Sea]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Third\n\n\n_How Sir Tristram was discovered at Tintagel and of what befell thereby._\n\nNow during the time that Sir Tristram abode thus unknown at the court of\nTintagel, he was allowed to wander thereabouts whithersoever he chose, and\nno one hindered him either in going or in coming. For none in all that\nplace suspected who he was, but everyone thought that he was only a poor\ngentle madman of the forest; so he was allowed to wander at will as his\nfancy led him.\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Tristram dwelt at Tintagel] And Sir Tristram's memory\nnever awoke; but though it awoke not, yet it stirred within him. For though\nhe could not remember what this place was whereunto he had come, yet it was\nvery strangely familiar to him, so that whithersoever he went, he felt that\nthose places were not altogether strange to him. And in some of those\nplaces he felt great pleasure and in other places somewhat of pain, yet he\nknew not why he should have the one feeling or the other.\n\nNow of all those places whereunto he wandered, Sir Tristram found most\npleasure in the pleasance of the castle where was a fair garden and fruit\ntrees; for it was there that he and the Lady Belle Isoult had walked\ntogether aforetime ere his affliction had befallen him, and he remembered\nthis place better than any other, and took more pleasure in it. Now one day\nSir Tristram came wandering thus into that pleasance and, the day being\nwarm, he sat under the shade of an appletree beside a marble fountain of\nwater; and the appletree above his head was all full of red and golden\nfruit. So Sir Tristram sat there, striving to remember how it was that he\nhad once aforetime beheld that fountain and that garden and that appletree\nbeneath which he sat.\n\nSo whilst he sat there pondering in that wise, there came the Lady Belle\nIsoult into the garden of that pleasance and her lady, the dame Bragwaine,\nwas with her, and the hound, hight Houdaine, which Sir Tristram had sent to\nher by Gouvernail, walked beside her on the other side. Then Belle Isoult\nperceived that there was a man sitting under the appletree, and she said to\ndame Bragwaine: \"Who is yonder man who hath dared to come hither into our\nprivy garden?\" Unto this, dame Bragwaine replied: \"That, lady, is the\ngentle madman of the forest whom Sir Launcelot brought hither two days\nago.\"\n\nThen the Lady Belle Isoult said, \"Let us go nearer and see what manner of\nman he is\"; and so they went forward toward where Sir Tristram sat, and the\ndog Houdaine went with them.\n\nThen Sir Tristram was aware that someone was nigh; and therewith he turned\nhis face and beheld the Lady Isoult for the first time since he had gone\nmad in the forest; and the lady was looking at him, but knew him not.\n\nThen of a sudden, because of his great love for Belle Isoult, the memory of\nSir Tristram came all back to him in the instant, and upon that instant he\nknew who he was and all that had befallen him, and how he had been brought\nthere as a madman out of the forest. But though he knew her in that wise,\nyet, as has been said, she knew not him.\n\nThen Sir Tristram was all overwhelmed with shame that he should be thus\nfound by that dear lady; wherefore he turned away his face and bowed his\nhead so that she might not remember him, for he perceived that as yet she\ndid not know him who he was.\n\nNow at that moment the dog, Houdaine, was aware of the savor of Sir\nTristram; wherefore he leaped away from the Lady Belle Isoult and ran to\nSir Tristram and smelt very eagerly of him. And with that he knew his\nmaster.\n\n[Sidenote: Houdaine knoweth Sir Tristram] Then the two ladies who looked\nbeheld Houdaine fall down at the feet of Sir Tristram and grovel there with\njoy. And they beheld that he licked Sir Tristram's feet and his hands, and\nthat he leaped upon Sir Tristram and licked his neck and face, and at that\nthey were greatly astonished.\n\nThen of a sudden a thought came to dame Bragwaine, and she catched the Lady\nIsoult by the arm and she said: \"Lady, know you not who yonder madman is?\"\nBut the Lady Belle Isoult said: \"Nay, I know not who he is. Who is he,\nBragwaine?\" And Bragwaine said: \"Certes, that is Sir Tristram, and no one\nelse in all the world.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Belle Isoult knows Sir Tristram] Therewith, at those words, the\nscales suddenly fell from Lady Belle Isoult's eyes and she knew him. Then,\nfor a little space, she stood as though turned into stone; then she emitted\na great loud cry of joy and ran to Sir Tristram where he sat, and flung\nherself down upon the ground at the feet of Sir Tristram and embraced him\nabout the knees. And she cried out in a voice of great passion: \"Tristram!\nTristram! Is it thou? They told me thou wert dead, and lo! thou art come to\nlife again!\" And with that she fell to weeping with such fury of passion\nthat it was as though the soul of her were struggling to escape from her\nbody.\n\nThen Sir Tristram got to his feet in great haste and agitation and he said:\n\"Lady! Lady! This must not be--arise, and stay your passion or else it will\nbe our ruin. For behold, I am alone and unarmed in this castle, and there\nare several herein who seek my life. So if it be discovered who I am, both\nthou and I are lost.\"\n\nThen, perceiving how that Belle Isoult was in a way distracted and out of\nher mind with joy and grief and love, he turned him unto Bragwaine and said\nto her: \"Take thy lady hence and by and by I will find means whereby I may\ncome to speech with her in private. Meanwhile it is death both for her and\nfor me if she remain here to betray me unto the others of this castle.\"\n\nSo Bragwaine and Sir Tristram lifted up the Lady Belle Isoult, and\nBragwaine led her thence out of that place; for I believe that Belle Isoult\nknew not whither she went but walked like one walking half in a swoon.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Andred knoweth Sir Tristram] Now it chanced at that time\nthat Sir Andred was in a balcony overlooking that pleasance, and, hearing\nthe sound of voices and the sound of a disturbance that was suppressed, he\nlooked out and beheld all that passed. Then he also wist who was that\nmadman whom Sir Launcelot had fetched to that place out of the forest, and\nthat he was Sir Tristram.\n\nTherewith he was filled with a great rage and fury and was likewise\noverwhelmed with great fear lest, if Sir Tristram should escape from that\ncastle with his life, he would reclaim those possessions that he, Sir\nAndred, had seized upon.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Andres betrays Sir Tristram to King Mark] So therewith he\nwithdrew himself from that balcony very softly, into the apartment behind.\nAnd he sat down in that apartment for a little while as though not knowing\nrightly what to do. But after a little while he arose and went to King\nMark; and King Mark looked up and beheld him and said, \"What news do you\nbring, Messire?\" Thereunto Sir Andred made reply: \"Lord, know you who that\nmadman is whom Sir Launcelot hath fetched hither?\" King Mark said, \"Nay, I\nknow not who he is.\" But with that he fell to trembling throughout his\nentire body, for he began to bethink him who that madman was. \"Lord,\" said\nSir Andred, \"it is Sir Tristram, and me-seems Sir Launcelot was aware who\nit was, and that he was plotting treason when he fetched him hither.\"\n\nAt that King Mark smote his hands together and he cried in a terrible\nvoice, \"I know it! I know it!\" And then he said: \"Blind! Blind! How was it\nthat I knew him not?\" Then after a little he fell to laughing and he said\nto Sir Andred: \"Lo! God hath assuredly delivered that traitor, Sir\nTristram, into mine hands so that I may punish him for his treasons. For,\nbehold! he is here in our midst and he is altogether unarmed. Go, Messire,\nwith all haste, gather together such force as may be needful, and seize\nupon him and bind him so that he may do no further harm to any man. Then\nlet justice be executed upon him so soon as it is possible to do so.\" And\nSir Andred said: \"Lord, it shall be done according to your demands and upon\nthe instant.\"\n\nTherewith Sir Andred went forth from where the King was, and he armed\nhimself in complete armor, and he gathered together a number of knights and\nesquires and he led them to that place where he knew Sir Tristram would be;\nand there he found Sir Tristram sitting sunk in thought. And when Sir\nTristram beheld those armed men come in thus upon him, he arose to defend\nhimself. But then Sir Andred cried out in a loud voice: \"Seize him ere he\ncan strike and bind him fast, for he is unarmed and may do you no harm!\"\n\n[Sidenote: The castle folk seize Sir Tristram] With that a dozen or more\nof those who were with Sir Andred flung themselves upon Sir Tristram,\nshouting and roaring like wild beasts. And they bore him to the earth by\nnumbers, and after a while, by dint of great effort, they held him and\nbound his hands together by the wrists. Then they lifted up Sir Tristram\nand stood him upon his feet, and lo! his bosom heaved with his struggles,\nand his eyes were all shot with blood and his lips afroth with the fury of\nhis fighting; and his clothes were torn in that struggle so that his body\nwas half naked. And they held him there, a knight in armor with a naked\nsword standing upon his right hand and another armed knight with a naked\nsword standing upon his left hand.\n\nThen Sir Andred came and stood in front of Sir Tristram and taunted him,\nsaying: \"Ha, Tristram, how is it with thee now? Lo! thou camest like a spy\ninto this place, and now thou art taken with all thy treason upon thee. So\nthou shalt die no knightly death, but, in a little while, thou shalt be\nhanged like a thief.\"\n\nThen he came close to Sir Tristram, and he laughed and said: \"Tristram\nwhere is now the glory of thy strength that one time overcame all thine\nenemies? Lo! thou art helpless to strike a single blow in defence of thine\nhonor.\" And therewith Sir Andred lifted his hand and smote Sir Tristram\nupon the face with the palm thereof.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram slays Sir Andred] At that blow the rage of Sir\nTristram so flamed up in him that his eyes burned as with pure green fire.\nAnd in an instant, so quickly that no man wist what he did, he turned with\namazing suddenness upon that knight who stood at his left hand, and he\nlifted up both hands that were bound, and he smote that knight such a blow\nupon the face that the knight fell down upon the ground and his sword fell\nout of his hand. Then Sir Tristram snatched the sword and, turning with\nastonishing quickness, he smote the knight upon his right hand such a\nbuffet that he instantly fell down upon his knees and then rolled over upon\nthe ground in a swoon. Then Sir Tristram turned upon Sir Andred, and\nlifting high the sword with both hands tied, he smote him so terrible a\nblow that the blade cut through his epulier and half through his body as\nfar as the paps. At that great terrible blow the breath fled out of Sir\nAndred with a deep groan, and he fell down upon the ground and immediately\ndied.\n\nNow all this had happened so suddenly that they who beheld it were\naltogether amazed and stood staring as though bewitched by some spell. But\nwhen they beheld Sir Tristram turn upon them and make at them with that\nstreaming sword lifted on high, the terror of his fury so seized upon them\nthat they everywhere broke from before him and fled, yelling, and with the\nfear of death clutching them in the vitals. And Sir Tristram chased them\nout of that place and into the courtyard of the castle, and some he smote\ndown and others escaped; but all who could do so scattered away before him\nlike chaff before the wind.\n\nThen, when they were gone, Sir Tristram stood panting and glaring about him\nlike a lion at bay. Then he set the point of his sword upon the pavement of\nthe court and the pommel thereof he set against his breast, and he drew the\nbonds that held his wrists across the edge of the sword so that they were\ncut and he was free.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram defends the chapel] But Sir Tristram wist that in\na little the whole castle would be aroused against him, and that he would\ncertainly be overwhelmed by dint of numbers, wherefore he looked about him\nfor some place of refuge; and he beheld that the door of the chapel which\nopened upon the courtyard stood ajar. So he ran into the chapel and shut to\nthat door and another door and locked and bolted them both, and set a heavy\nbar of wood across both of them so that for a while he was safe.\n\nBut yet he was only safe for a little while, for about the time of early\nnightfall, which came not long thereafter, a great party of several score\nof King Mark's people came against the chapel where he was. And when they\nfound that the doors were locked and barred, they brought rams for to\nbatter in the chief door of the chapel.\n\nThen Sir Tristram beheld how parlous was his case, and that he must in a\nlittle while die if he did not immediately do something to save himself. So\nwith that he ran to a window of the chapel and opened it and looked out\nthence. And lo! below him and far beneath was the sea, and the rocks of the\nshore upon which the castle was built; and the sea and the rocks lay twelve\nfathoms beneath him.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram leaps into the sea] But Sir Tristram said, \"Better\ndeath there than here;\" and therewith finding that the door was now falling\nin beneath the rams, he leaped out from the window-ledge, and thence he\ndived down into the sea; and no one saw that terrible leap that he made. So\nhe sank down deep into the sea, but met no rocks, so that he presently came\nup again safe and sound. Then, looking about him, he perceived in the\ntwilight a cave in the rocks, and thither he swam with the intent to find\nshelter for a little.\n\nNow when they who had come against him had broken into the chapel they all\nran in in one great crowd, for they expected to find Sir Tristram and to do\nbattle with him. But lo! Sir Tristram was not there, but only the empty\nwalls. Then at first they were greatly astonished, and knew not what to\nthink. And some who came cried out: \"Is that man then a spirit that he can\nmelt away into thin air?\" But after a little, one of them perceived where\nthe window of the chapel stood open, and therewith several of them ran\nthereunto and looked out, and they wist that Sir Tristram had leaped out\nthence into the sea.\n\nThen they said to one another: \"Either that knight is now dead, or else he\nwill perish when the tide rises and covers the rocks; so to-night we will\ndo no more with this business; but to-morrow we will go and find his body\nwhere it lies among the rocks of the shore.\" So thereupon they shut the\nwindow and went their ways.\n\nNow Gouvernail was not at that time at Tintagel, nor did he return\nthereunto until all this affair was over and done. But when he came there,\nthere were many voices to tell him what had befallen, and to all of them\nGouvernail listened without saying anything.\n\nBut afterward Gouvernail went and sought out a certain knight hight Sir\nSantraille de Lushon, who, next to himself, was the most faithful friend to\nSir Tristram at that place. To him Gouvernail said: \"Messire, I do not\nthink that Sir Tristram is dead, for he hath always been a most wonderful\nswimmer and diver. But if he be alive, and we do not save him, he will\nassuredly perish when the tide comes up and covers over those rocks amongst\nwhich he may now be hidden.\"\n\nSo Gouvernail and Sir Santraille went to that chapel unknown to anyone, and\nthey went to that window whence Sir Tristram had leaped, and they opened\nthe window, and leaned out and called upon Sir Tristram in low voices: \"Sir\nTristram, if thou art alive, arise and answer us, for we are friends!\"\n\nThen after a while Sir Tristram recognized Gouvernail's voice and answered\nthem: \"I am alive; but save me, or I perish in a little while.\" Then\nGouvernail said: \"Lord, are you hurt, or are you whole?\" Sir Tristram\nreplied, \"I am strong and well in body, but the tide rises fast.\"\nGouvernail said, \"Messire, can you wait a little?\" Sir Tristram said, \"Ay;\nfor a little, but not for too long.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Gouvernail and Sir Santraille rescue Sir Tristram] Then\nGouvernail and Sir Santraille withdrew from where they were and they made\nall haste, and they got together a great number of sheets and napkins, and\ntied these together and made a rope, and lowered the rope down to the rocks\nwhere Sir Tristram was. Then Sir Tristram climbed up the rope of linen and\nso reached the chapel in safety. And at that time it was nigh to midnight\nand very dark.\n\nBut when Sir Tristram stood with them in the chapel, he gave them hardly\nany greeting, but said at once: \"Messires, how doth it fare with the Lady\nBelle Isoult?\" For he thought of her the first of all and above all things\nelse.\n\nTo this Sir Santraille made reply: \"Sir, the lady hath been shut into a\ntower, and the door thereof hath been locked upon her, and she is a close\nprisoner.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram said: \"How many knights are there in the place who are my\nfriends, and who will stand with me to break out hence?\" To this Gouvernail\nsaid: \"Lord, there are twelve besides ourselves, and that makes fourteen in\nall who are with thee in this quarrel unto life or death.\"\n\nSir Tristram said: \"Provide me presently with arms and armor and bring\nthose twelve hither armed at all points. But first let them saddle horses\nfor themselves and for us, and for the Lady Belle Isoult and for her\nwaiting-woman, Dame Bragwaine. When this is done, we will depart from this\nplace unto some other place of refuge, and I do not think there will be any\nin the castle will dare stop or stay us after we are armed.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram arms himself] So it was done as Sir Tristram\ncommanded, and when all those were gathered together, and their horses\nready, Sir Tristram and several of the knights of his party went openly to\nthat tower where the Lady Belle Isoult was prisoner. And they burst open\nthe doors and went in with torches, and found Belle Isoult and her\nattendant in the upper part of the castle.\n\nBut when Belle Isoult beheld the face of Sir Tristram, she said: \"Is it\nthou, my love; and art thou still alive, and art thou come tome?\" Sir\nTristram said: \"Yea, I am still alive nor will I die, God willing, until I\nhave first brought thee out of this wicked castle and into some place of\nsafety. And never again will I entrust thee unto King Mark's hands; for I\nhave great fear that if he have thee in his hands he will work vengeance\nupon thee so as to strike at my heart through thee. So, dear love, I come\nto take thee away from this place; and never again right or wrong, shalt\nthou be without the shelter of my arm.\"\n\nThen the Lady Belle Isoult smiled very wonderfully upon Sir Tristram so\nthat her face appeared to shine with a great illumination of love. And she\nsaid: \"Tristram, I will go with thee whithersoever thou wilt. Yea, I would\ngo with thee even to the grave, for I believe that I should be happy even\nthere, so that thou wert lying beside me.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram groaned in spirit and he said: \"Isoult, what have I done,\nthat I should always bring unhappiness upon thee?\" But the Lady Belle\nIsoult spake very steadily, saying: \"Never unhappiness, Tristram, but\nalways happiness; for I have thy love for aye, and thou hast mine in the\nsame measure, and in that is happiness, even in tears and sorrow, and never\nunhappiness.\"\n\nWith that Sir Tristram kissed Belle Isoult upon the forehead, and then he\nlifted her up and carried her in his arms down the stairs of the tower and\nsat her upon her horse. And Bragwaine followed after, and Gouvernail lifted\nher up upon her horse.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Tristram taketh Belle Isoult away from Tintagel] Now all\nthey of that castle were amazed beyond measure to find all those knights\narmed and prepared for battle so suddenly in their midst. And most of all\nwere they filled with terror to find Sir Tristram at the head of these\nknights. Wherefore when Sir Tristram made demand that they should open the\nportcullis of the castle and let fall the drawbridge, the porters thereof\ndared not refuse him, but did as he said.\n\nSo Sir Tristram and his knights rode forth with the Lady Belle Isoult and\nBragwaine and no one stayed them. And they rode into the forest, betaking\ntheir way toward a certain castle of Sir Tristram's, which they reached in\nthe clear dawning of the daytime.\n\nAnd so Sir Tristram brought the Lady Belle Isoult away from Tintagel and\ninto safety.\n\n[Illustration: King Mark broods mischief]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Fourth\n\n\n_How Sir Tristram and the Lady Belle Isoult returned to Cornwall and how\nthey ended their days together._\n\nAnd now remaineth to be told the rest of these adventures of Sir Tristram\nas briefly as may be.\n\nFor indeed I thought not, when I began this history, to tell you as much\nconcerning him as I have done. But as I have entered into this history I\nhave come so strongly to perceive how noble and true and loyal was the\nknighthood of Sir Tristram, that I could not forbear telling you of many\nthings that I had not purposed to speak of.\n\nYet, as I have said before this, there are a great many adventures that I\nhave not spoken of in this book. For I have told only those things that\nwere necessary for to make you understand how it fared with him in his\nlife.\n\nSo now shall be told those last things that concerned him.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot reproves King Mark] Now two days after those\nthings aforesaid had come to pass, Sir Launcelot returned unto Tintagel\nfrom that quest which he had been upon, and so soon as he came thither he\nmade inquiry of King Mark concerning the welfare of that madman of the\nforest whom he had left in the care of King Mark. But when he heard that\nthat madman was Sir Tristram, he was astonished beyond all measure; but\nwhen he heard how Sir Tristram had been served by King Mark and by the\npeople of the castle under the lead of Sir Andred, he was filled with a\ngreat and violent indignation. So he arose and stood before King Mark and\nsaid: \"Lord King, I have heard much ill said of thee and shameful things\nconcerning thy unknightliness in several courts of chivalry where I have\nbeen; and now I know that those things were true; for I have heard from the\nlips of many people here, how thou didst betray Sir Tristram into bringing\nthe Lady Belle Isoult unto thee; and I have heard from many how thou dost\never do ill and wickedly by him, seeking to take from him both his honor\nand his life. And yet Sir Tristram hath always been thy true and faithful\nknight, and hath served thee in all ways thou hast demanded of him. I know\nthat thou hast jealousy for Sir Tristram in thy heart and that thou hast\never imputed wickedness and sin unto him. Yet all the world knoweth that\nSir Tristram is a true knight and altogether innocent of any evil. For all\nthe evil which thou hast imputed to him hath no existence saving only in\nthine own evil heart. Now I give thee and all thy people to know that had\nill befallen Sir Tristram at your hands I should have held you accountable\ntherefor and should have punished you in such a way that you would not soon\nhave forgotten it. But of that there is no need, for Sir Tristram himself\nhath punished you in full measure without any aid from me. So now I will go\naway from this place and will never come hither again; nor will I\nacknowledge you should I meet you in court or in field.\"\n\nSo saying, Sir Launcelot turned and went away from that place very proudly\nand haughtily, leaving them all abashed at his rebuke.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Launcelot findeth Sir Tristram and Belle Isoult in the\nforest] So that day Sir Launcelot went forward through the forest until he\nreached that castle whereunto Sir Tristram had taken the Lady Belle Isoult,\nand there he was received by Sir Tristram with all joy and honor. And Sir\nLauncelot abided at that place for two days, with great pleasure to himself\nand to Sir Tristram and to Belle Isoult.\n\nAt the end of that time Sir Launcelot said to Sir Tristram: \"Messire, it is\nnot well that you and this dear lady should abide here so nigh to Tintagel.\nFor, certes, King Mark will some time work some grievous ill upon you. So I\nbeseech you to come with me unto my castle of Joyous Gard. There this lady\nshall reign queen paramount and we shall be her very faithful servants to\ndo her pleasure in all ways. That castle is a very beautiful place, and\nthere she may dwell in peace and safety and tranquillity all the days of\nher life if she chooses to do so.\"\n\n[Sidenote: They depart for Joyous Gard] Now that saying of Sir Launcelot's\nseemed good to Sir Tristram and to Belle Isoult; wherefore in three days\nall they and their court made ready to depart. And they did depart from\nthat castle in the forest unto Joyous Gard, where they were received with\ngreat honor and rejoicing.\n\nSo the Lady Belle Isoult abided for three years at Joyous Gard, dwelling\nthere as queen paramount in all truth and innocence of life; and Sir\nLauncelot and Sir Tristram were her champions and all their courts were her\nservants. And during those three years there were many famous joustings\nheld at Joyous Gard, and several bel-adventures were performed both by Sir\nLauncelot and Sir Tristram in her honor.\n\nAnd indeed I believe that this was the happiest time of all the Lady Belle\nIsoult's life, for she lived there in peace and love and tranquillity and\nshe suffered neither grief nor misfortune in all that time.\n\n[Sidenote: King Arthur comes to Joyous Gard] Then one day there came King\nArthur to Joyous Gard, and he was received with such joy and celebration as\nthat place had never before beheld. A great feast was set in his honor, and\nafter the feast King Arthur and Sir Tristram and Belle Isoult withdrew to\none side and sat together in converse.\n\nThen after a while King Arthur said, \"Lady, may I ask you a question?\" And\nat that Lady Belle Isoult lifted up her eyes and looked very strangely upon\nthe King, and after a while she said, \"Ask thy question, Lord King, and I\nwill answer it if I can.\" \"Lady,\" said King Arthur, \"answer me this\nquestion: is it better to dwell in honor with sadness or in dishonor with\njoy?\"\n\nThen Belle Isoult began to pant with great agitation, and by and by she\nsaid, \"Lord, why ask you me that?\" King Arthur said: \"Because, lady, I\nthink your heart hath sometimes asked you the selfsame question.\" Then the\nLady Belle Isoult clasped her hands together and cried out: \"Yea, yea, my\nheart hath often asked me that question, but I would not answer it.\" King\nArthur said: \"Neither shalt thou answer me, for I am but a weak and erring\nman as thou art a woman. But answer thou that question to God, dear lady,\nand then thou shalt answer it in truth.\"\n\nTherewith King Arthur fell to talking of other things with Sir Tristram,\nbut the lady could not join them in talk, but sat thenceforth in silence,\nfinding it hard to breathe because of the oppression of tears that lay upon\nher bosom.\n\nAnd Belle Isoult said no more concerning that question that King Arthur had\nasked. But three days after that time she came to Sir Tristram and said:\n\"Dear lord, I have bethought me much of what King Arthur said, and this\nhath come of it, that I must return again unto Cornwall.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram turned away his face so that she might not see it, and he\nsaid, \"Methought it would come to that.\" And then in a little he went away\nfrom that place, leaving her standing there.\n\nSo it came about that peace was made betwixt Sir Tristram and King Mark,\nand Belle Isoult and King Mark, and King Arthur was the peacemaker.\n\n[Sidenote: Belle Isoult scorns King Mark] Thereafter Sir Tristram and his\ncourt and the Lady Belle Isoult returned unto Cornwall, and there they\ndwelt for some time in seeming peace. But in that time the Lady Belle\nIsoult would never see King Mark nor exchange a word with him, but lived\nentirely apart from him and in her own life in a part of the castle; and at\nthat King Mark was struck with such bitterness of despair that he was like\nto a demon in torment. For he saw, as it were, a treasure very near and yet\nafar, for he could not come unto it. And the more he suffered that torment,\nthe more he hated Sir Tristram, for in his suffering it appeared to him\nthat Sir Tristram was the cause of that suffering.\n\nSo it came about that King Mark set spies to watch Sir Tristram, for in his\nevil heart he suspected Sir Tristram of treason, and he hoped that his\nspies might discover Sir Tristram in some act for which he might be\npunished. So those spies watched Sir Tristram both night and day, but they\ncould find nothing that he did that was amiss.\n\nNow one day Belle Isoult felt such a longing for Sir Tristram that she\ncould not refrain from sending a note to him beseeching him for to come to\nher so that they might see one another again; and though Sir Tristram\nmisdoubted what he did, yet he went as she desired, even if it should mean\nthe peril of death to him.\n\nThen came those spies to King Mark and told him that Sir Tristram was gone\nto the bower of the Lady Belle Isoult, and that she had bidden him to come\nthither.\n\nAt that the vitals of King Mark were twisted with such an agony of hatred\nand despair that he bent him double and cried out, \"Woe! Woe! I suffer\ntorments!\"\n\n[Sidenote: King Mark spies upon Sir Tristram and Isoult] Therewith he\narose and went very quickly to that part of the castle where the Lady Belle\nIsoult inhabited; and he went very softly up by a back way and through a\npassage to where was a door with curtains hanging before it; and when he\nhad come there he parted the curtains and peeped within. And he beheld that\nthe Lady Belle Isoult and Sir Tristram sat at a game of chess, and he\nbeheld that they played not at the game but that they sat talking together\nvery sadly; and he beheld that Dame Bragwaine sat in a deep window to one\nside--for Belle Isoult did not wish it to be said that she and Sir Tristram\nsat alone.\n\nAll this King Mark saw and trembled with a torment of jealousy. So by and\nby he left that place and went very quietly back into that passageway\nwhence he had come. And when he had come there he perceived a great glaive\nupon a pole two ells long. This he took into his hand and returned unto\nthat curtained doorway again.\n\nThen being in all ways prepared he parted the curtains silently and stepped\nvery quickly and without noise into the room. And the back of Sir Tristram\nwas toward him.\n\nThen King Mark lifted the glaive on high and he struck; and Sir Tristram\nsank without a sound.\n\nYea, I believe that that good knight knew naught of what had happened until\nhe awoke in Paradise to find himself in that realm of happiness and peace.\n\n[Sidenote: Of the passing of Tristram and Isoult] Then Belle Isoult arose,\noverturning the table of chessmen as she did so, but she made no outcry nor\nsound of any sort. But she stood looking down at Sir Tristram for a little\nspace, and then she kneeled down beside his body and touched the face\nthereof as though to make sure that it was dead. Therewith, as though being\nassured, she fell down with her body upon his; and King Mark stood there\nlooking down upon them.\n\nAll this had passed so quickly that Dame Bragwaine hardly knew what had\nbefallen; but now, upon an instant, she suddenly fell to shrieking so\npiercingly that the whole castle rang with the sound thereof.\n\nNow there were in the outer room several of the knights of the court of Sir\nTristram who had come thither with him as witnesses that he performed no\ntreason to the King. These, when Dame Bragwaine shrieked in that wise, came\nrunning into the room and therewith beheld what had happened. Then all they\nstood aghast at that sight.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Alexander slays King Mark] But there was in the court of\nSir Tristram a very young, gallant knight hight Sir Alexander. This knight\ncame to where King Mark stood looking down upon his handiwork as though\nentranced with what he had done. Then Sir Alexander said to King Mark, \"Is\nthis thy work?\" And King Mark raised his eyes very heavily and looked at\nSir Alexander and he answered, \"Ay!\" Then Sir Alexander cried out, \"Thou\nhast lived too long!\" And therewith drawing his misericordia, he catched\nKing Mark by the left wrist and lifted his arm. And Sir Alexander drave the\ndagger into the side of King Mark, and King Mark groaned and sank down upon\nthe ground, and in a little while died where he lay.\n\nThen those knights went to where the Lady Belle Isoult lay and lifted her\nup; but, lo! the soul had left her, and she was dead. For I believe that it\nwas not possible for one of those loving souls to leave its body with out\nthe other quitting its body also, so that they might meet together in\nParadise. For there never were two souls in all the history of chivalry\nthat clave to one another so tenderly as did the souls of Tristram and\nIsoult.\n\nSo endeth this story of Sir Tristram, with only this to say, that they two\nwere buried with the graves close together, and that it is said by many who\nhave written of them that there grew a rose-tree up from Sir Tristram's\ngrave, and down upon the grave of Belle Isoult; and it is said that this\nrose-tree was a miracle, for that upon his grave there grew red roses, and\nupon her grave there grew pure white roses. For her soul was white like to\nthrice-carded wool, and so his soul was red with all that was of courage or\nknightly pride.\n\nAnd I pray that God may rest the souls of those two as I pray He may rest\nthe souls of all of us who must some time go the way that those two and so\nmany others have travelled before us. Amen.\n\n\n\n\nThe Book of Sir Percival\n\n_Here beginneth the story of Sir Percival of Gales, who was considered to\nbe one of the three great knights of the Round Table at that time. For, if\nSir Launcelot was the chiefest of all the knights who ever came unto King\nArthur's court, then it is hard to say whether Sir Tristram of Lyonesse or\nSir Percival of Gales was second unto him in renown_.\n\n_And I pray that it shall be given unto all of ye to live as brave and\nhonorable and pure a life as he did; and that you, upon your part, may\nclaim a like glory and credit in the world in which you dwell by such noble\nbehavior as he exhibited_.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Percival of Gales]\n\n\n\n\nPrologue.\n\nThe father of Sir Percival was that king hight Pellinore who fought so\nterrible a battle with King Arthur as has been told in the Book of King\nArthur. For it was after that fight that King Arthur obtained his famous\nsword Excalibur, as was therein told.\n\nNow, King Pellinore was one of those eleven kings who, in the beginning of\nKing Arthur's reign, were in rebellion against King Arthur as hath been\ntold in the book aforesaid, and he was one of the last of all those kings\nto yield when he was overcome. So King Arthur drove him from town to town\nand from place to place until, at last, he was driven away from the\nhabitations of men and into the forests like to a wild beast.\n\n[Sidenote: King Pellinore fleeth to the wilderness] Now, King Pellinore\ntook with him into the wilderness his wife and his four sons; to wit,\nLamorack and Aglaval and Dornar and Percival. Of these, Percival was but\nthree years of age; the others, excepting Dornar, being nigh to the estate\nof manhood. Thereafter that noble family dwelt in the forest like hunted\nanimals, and that was a very great hardship for the lady who had been\nqueen; and, likewise, it was greatly to the peril of the young child,\nPercival.\n\nNow, Percival was extraordinarily beautiful and his mother loved him above\nall her other sons. Wherefore she feared lest the young child should die of\nthose hardships in the wilderness.\n\nSo one day King Pellinore said: \"Dear love, I am now in no wise prepared\nfor to defend thee and this little one. Wherefore, for a while, I shall put\nye away from me so that ye may remain in secret hiding until such time as\nthe child shall have grown in years and stature to the estate of manhood\nand may so defend himself.\n\n\"Now of all my one-time possessions I have only two left to me. One of\nthese is a lonely castle in this forest (unto which I am now betaking my\nway), and the other is a solitary tower at a great distance from this, and\nin a very desolate part of the world where there are many mountains. Unto\nthat place I shall send ye, for it will not be likely that mine enemies\nwill ever find ye there.\n\n\"So my will is this: that if this child groweth in that lonely place to\nmanhood, and if he be weak in body or timid in spirit, thou shalt make of\nhim a clerk of holy orders. But if when he groweth, he shall prove to be\nstrong and lusty of frame and high of spirit, and shall desire to undertake\ndeeds of knighthood, thou then shalt not stay him from his desires, but\nshall let him go forth into the world as he shall have a mind to do.\n\n\"And if a time should come when he desireth to go thus into the world\nbehold! here is a ring set with a very precious ruby; let him bring that\nring to me or to any of our sons wheresoever he may find us, and by that\nring we shall know that he is my son and their brother, and we will receive\nhim with great gladness.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Percival's mother taketh him to the mountains] And King\nPellinore's lady said, \"It shall be done as thou dost ordain.\" So it was\nthat King Pellinore betook himself to that lonely castle where King Arthur\nfound him and fought with him; and Percival's mother betook herself to that\ndwelling-place in the mountains of which King Pellinore had spoken--which\nwas a single tower that reached up into the sky, like unto a finger of\nstone.\n\nThere she abided with Percival for sixteen years, and in all that time\nPercival knew naught of the world nor of what sort it was, but grew\naltogether wild and was entirely innocent like to a little child.\n\nIn the mean time, during those years, it happened very ill to the house of\nKing Pellinore. For though King Arthur became reconciled to King Pellinore,\nyet there were in King Arthur's court many who were bitter enemies to that\ngood, worthy knight. So it came about that first King Pellinore was slain\nby treachery, and then Sir Aglaval and Sir Dornar were slain in the same\nway, so that Sir Lamorack alone was left of all that noble family.\n\n(And it was said that Sir Gawaine and his brothers were implicated in those\nmurders--they being enemies unto King Pellinore--and great reproach hath\nalways clung to them for the treacherous, unknightly way in which those\nnoble knights of the house of Pellinore were slain.)\n\n[Sidenote: Percival's mother grieveth for the death of her dear ones] Now\nthe news of those several deaths was brought to that lonely tower of the\nmountain wilderness and to Sir Percival's mother; and when she heard how\nher husband and two of her sons were dead she gave great outcry of grief,\nand smote her hands together and wept with great passion. And she cried\nout: \"Mefeareth it will be the time of Lamorack next to be slain. As for\nPercival; never shall I be willing for him to go out into that cruel world\nof wicked murderers. For if he should perish also, my heart would surely\nbreak.\"\n\n[Sidenote: How Percival dwelt in the mountains] So she kept Percival\nalways with her and in ignorance of all that concerned the world of\nknighthood. And though Percival waxed great of body and was beautiful and\nnoble of countenance, yet he dwelt there among those mountains knowing no\nmore of the world that lay beyond that place in which he dwelt than would a\nlittle innocent child. Nor did he ever see anyone from the outside world,\nsaving only an old man who was a deaf-mute. And this old man came and went\nbetwixt that tower where Percival and his mother dwelt and the outer world,\nand from the world he would come back with clothing and provisions loaded\nupon an old sumpter horse for Percival and his mother and their few\nattendants. Yet Percival marvelled many times whence those things came, but\nno one told him and so he lived in entire ignorance of the world.\n\nAnd Percival's mother would not let him touch any weapon saving only a\nsmall Scot's spear which same is a sort of javelin. But with this Percival\nplayed every day of his life until he grew so cunning in handling it that\nhe could pierce with it a bird upon the wing in the air.\n\nNow it chanced upon a time when Percival was nineteen years of age that he\nstood upon a pinnacle of rock and looked down into a certain valley. And it\nwas very early in the spring-time, so that the valley appeared, as it were,\nto be carpeted all with clear, thin green. There was a shining stream of\nwater that ran down through the midst of the valley, and it was a very fair\nand peaceful place to behold.\n\n[Sidenote: Percival beholds a knight-rider] So Percival stood and gazed\ninto that low-land, and lo! a knight rode up through that valley, and the\nsun shone out from behind a cloud of rain and smote upon his armor so that\nit appeared to be all ablaze as with pure light, and Percival beheld that\nknight and wist not what it was he saw. So, after the knight had gone away\nfrom the valley, he ran straightway to his mother, all filled with a great\nwonder, and he said: \"Mother! Mother! I have beheld a very wonderful\nthing.\" She said, \"What was it thou didst see?\" Percival said: \"I beheld\nsomewhat that was like a man, and he rode upon a horse, and he shone very\nbrightly and with exceeding splendor. Now, I prithee tell me what it was I\nsaw?\"\n\nThen Percival's mother knew very well what it was he had seen, and she was\ngreatly troubled at heart, for she wist that if Percival's knightly spirit\nshould be awakened he would no longer be content to dwell in those peaceful\nsolitudes. Wherefore she said to herself: \"How is this? Is it to be that\nthis one lamb also shall be taken away from me and nothing left to me of\nall my flock?\" Then she said to Percival: \"My son, that which thou didst\nbehold was doubtless an angel.\" And Percival said, \"I would that I too were\nan angel!\" And at that speech the lady, his mother, sighed very deeply.\n\nNow it chanced upon the next day after that that Percival and his mother\nwent down into the forest that lay at the foot of the mountain whereon that\ntower stood, and they had intent to gather such early flowers of the\nspring-time as were then abloom. And whilst they were there, lo! there came\nfive knights riding through the forest, and, the leaves being thin like to\na mist of green, Percival perceived them a great way off. So he cried out\nin a loud voice: \"Mother! Mother! Behold! Yonder is a whole company of\nangels such as I saw yesterday! Now I will go and give them greeting.\"\n\nBut his mother said: \"How now! How now! Wouldst thou make address unto\nangels!\" And Percival said: \"Yea; for they appear to be both mild of face\nand gentle of mien.\" So he went forward for to greet those knights.\n\n[Sidenote: Percival holds discourse with five knights] Now the foremost of\nthat party of knights was Sir Ewaine, who was always both gentle and\ncourteous to everybody. Wherefore, when Sir Ewaine saw Percival nigh at\nhand, he gave him greeting and said, \"Fair youth, what is thy name?\" Unto\nthis Percival made reply: \"My name is Percival.\" Sir Ewaine said: \"That is\na very good name, and thy face likewise is so extraordinarily comely that I\ntake thee to be of some very high lineage. Now tell me, I prithee, who is\nthy father?\" To this Percival said, \"I cannot tell thee what is my lineage,\nfor I do not know,\" and at that Sir Ewaine marvelled a very great deal.\nThen, after a little while, he said: \"I prithee tell me, didst thou see a\nknight pass this way to-day or yesterday?\" And Percival said, \"I know not\nwhat sort of a thing is a knight.\" Sir Ewaine said, \"A knight is such a\nsort of man as I am.\"\n\nUpon this Percival understood many things that he did not know before, and\nhe willed with all his soul to know more than those. Wherefore he said: \"If\nthou wilt answer several questions for me, I will gladly answer thine.\"\nUpon this Sir Ewaine smiled very cheerfully (for he liked Percival\nexceedingly), and he said: \"Ask what thou wilt and I will answer thee in so\nfar as I am able.\"\n\nSo Percival said, \"I prithee tell me what is this thing?\" And he laid his\nhand thereon. And Sir Ewaine said, \"That is a saddle.\" And Percival said,\n\"What is this thing?\" And Sir Ewaine said, \"That is a sword.\" And Percival\nsaid, \"What is this thing?\" And Sir Ewaine said, \"That is a shield.\" And so\nPercival asked him concerning all things that appertained to the\naccoutrements of a knight, and Sir Ewaine answered all his questions. Then\nPercival said: \"Now I will answer thy question. I saw a knight ride past\nthis way yesterday, and he rode up yonder valley and to the westward.\"\n\nUpon this Sir Ewaine gave gramercy to Percival and saluted him, and so did\nthe other knights, and they rode their way.\n\nAfter they had gone Percival returned to his mother, and he beheld that she\nsat exactly where he had left her, for she was in great travail of soul\nbecause she perceived that Percival would not now stay with her very much\nlonger. And when Percival came to where she sat he said to her: \"Mother,\nthose were not angels, but very good, excellent knights.\" And upon this the\nlady, his mother, burst into a great passion of weeping, so that Percival\nstood before her all abashed, not knowing why she wept. So by and by he\nsaid, \"Mother, why dost thou weep?\" But she could not answer him for a\nwhile, and after a while she said, \"Let us return homeward.\" And so they\nwalked in silence.\n\nNow when they had come to the tower where they dwelt, the lady turned of a\nsudden unto Percival and she said to him, \"Percival, what is in thy heart?\"\nAnd he said, \"Mother, thou knowest very well what is there.\" She said, \"Is\nit that thou wouldst be a knight also?\" And he said, \"Thou sayst it.\" And\nupon that she said, \"Thou shalt have thy will; come with me.\"\n\nSo Percival's mother led him to the stable and to where was that poor\npack-horse that brought provisions to that place, and she said: \"This is a\nsorry horse but I have no other for thee. Now let us make a saddle for\nhim.\" So Percival and his mother twisted sundry cloths and wisps of hay and\nmade a sort of a saddle thereof. And Percival's mother brought him a scrip\nwith bread and cheese for his refreshment and she hung it about his\nshoulder. And she brought him his javelin which he took in his hand. And\nthen she gave him the ring of King Pellinore with that precious ruby jewel\ninset into it, and she said: \"Take thou this, Percival, and put it upon thy\nfinger, for it is a royal ring. Now when thou leavest me, go unto the court\nof King Arthur and make diligent inquiry for Sir Lamorack of Gales. And\nwhen thou hast found him, show him that ring, and he will see that thou art\nmade a very worthy knight; for, Percival, Sir Lamorack is thy brother. One\ntime thou hadst a father alive, and thou hadst two other brothers. But all\nthey were slain by treachery of our enemies, and only thou and Lamorack are\nleft; so look to it that thou guard thyself when thou art in the world and\nin the midst of those enemies; for if thou shouldst perish at their hands,\nI believe my heart would break.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Percival's mother giveth him advice] Then she gave Percival\nadvice concerning the duty of one who would make himself worthy of\nknighthood, and that advice was as follows: \"In thy journeying thou art to\nobserve these sundry things: When thou comest to a church or a shrine say a\npater-noster unto the glory of God; and if thou hearest a cry of anyone in\ntrouble, hasten to lend thine aid--especially if it be a woman or a child\nwho hath need of it; and if thou meet a lady or a damosel, salute her in\nseemly fashion; and if thou have to do with a man, be both civil and\ncourageous unto him; and if thou art an-hungered or athirst and findest\nfood and wine, eat and drink enough to satisfy thee, but no more; and if\nthou findest a treasure or a jewel of price and canst obtain those things\nwithout injustice unto another, take that thing for thine own--but give\nthat which thou hast with equal freedom unto others. So, by obeying these\nprecepts, thou shalt become worthy to be a true knight and, haply, be also\nworthy of thy father, who was a true knight before thee.\"\n\nAnd Percival said, \"All these things will I remember and observe to do.\"\n\nAnd Percival's mother said, \"But thou wilt not forget me, Percival?\"\n\n[Sidenote: Percival departs from the mountain] And he said: \"Nay, mother;\nbut when I have got me power and fame and wealth, then will I straightway\nreturn thitherward and take thee away from this place, and thou shalt be\nlike to a Queen for all the glory that I shall bestow upon thee.\" Upon this\nthe lady, his mother, both laughed and wept; and Percival stooped and\nkissed her upon the lips. Then he turned and left her, and he rode away\ndown the mountain and into the forest, and she stood and gazed after him as\nlong as she could see him. And she was very lonely after he had gone.\n\nSo I have told you how it came that Percival went out into the world for to\nbecome a famous knight.\n\n[Illustration: The Lady Yvette the Fair]\n\n\n\n\nChapter First\n\n\n_How Percival departed into the world and how he found a fair damsel in a\npavilion; likewise how he came before Queen Guinevere and how he undertook\nhis first adventure_.\n\n[Sidenote: Percival maketh himself armor of willow twigs] Now after\nPercival had ridden upon his way for a very long time, he came at last out\nof that part of the forest and unto a certain valley where were many osiers\ngrowing along beside a stream of water. So he gathered branches of the\nwillow-trees and peeled them and wove them very cunningly into the likeness\nof armor such as he had seen those knights wear who had come into his\nforest. And when he had armed himself with wattled osiers he said unto\nhimself, \"Now am I accoutred as well as they.\" Whereupon he rode upon his\nway with an heart enlarged with joy.\n\nBy and by he came out of the forest altogether and unto a considerable\nvillage where were many houses thatched with straw. And Percival said to\nhimself: \"Ha! how great is the world; I knew not that there were so many\npeople in the world.\"\n\n[Sidenote: How Percival rode in the world] But when the folk of that place\nbeheld what sort of a saddle was upon the back of the pack-horse; and when\nthey beheld what sort of armor it was that Percival wore--all woven of\nosier twigs; and when they beheld how he was armed with a javelin and with\nno other weapon, they mocked and laughed at him and jeered him. But\nPercival understood not their mockery, whereupon he said: \"Lo! how pleasant\nand how cheerful is the world. I knew not it was so merry a place.\" So he\nlaughed and nodded and gave them greeting who mocked him in that manner.\nAnd some of them said, \"That is a madman.\" And others said, \"Nay, he is a\nsilly fool.\" And when Percival heard these he said to himself: \"I wonder\nwhether there are other sorts of knights that I have not yet heard tell\nof?\"\n\nSo he rode upon his way very happy, and whenever he met travellers, they\nwould laugh at him; but he would laugh louder than they and give them\ngreeting because of pure pleasure that the great world was so merry and\nkind.\n\nNow in the declining of the afternoon, he came to a certain pleasant glade,\nand there he beheld a very noble and stately pavilion in among the trees,\nAnd that pavilion was all of yellow satin so that it shone like to gold in\nthe light of the declining sun.\n\nThen Percival said to himself: \"Verily, this must be one of those churches\nconcerning which my mother spake to me.\" So he descended from his horse and\nwent to that pavilion and knelt down and said a pater-noster.\n\n[Sidenote: Percival enters the golden pavilion] And when he had ended that\nprayer, he arose and went into the pavilion, and lo! he beheld there a\nwonderfully beautiful young damsel of sixteen years of age who sat in the\npavilion upon a carved bench and upon a cushion of cloth of gold, and who\nbent over a frame of embroidery, which she was busy weaving in threads of\nsilver and gold. And the hair of that damosel was as black as ebony and her\ncheeks were like rose leaves for redness, and she wore a fillet of gold\naround her head, and she was clad in raiment of sky blue silk. And near by\nwas a table spread with meats of divers sorts and likewise with several\nwines, both white and red. And all the goblets were of silver and all the\npattens were of gold, and the table was spread with a napkin embroidered\nwith threads of gold.\n\nNow you are to know that the young lady who sat there was the Lady Yvette\nthe Fair, the daughter of King Pecheur.\n\nWhen Percival came to that pavilion the Lady Yvette looked up and beheld\nhim with great astonishment, and she said to herself: \"That must either be\na madman or a foolish jester who comes hither clad all in armor of wattled\nwillow twigs.\" So she said to him, \"Sirrah, what dost thou here?\" He said,\n\"Lady, is this a church?\" Upon that she was angered thinking that he had\nintended to make a jest and she said: \"Begone, fool, for if my father, who\nis King Pecheur, cometh and findeth thee here, he will punish thee for this\njest.\" But Percival replied, \"Nay; I think he will not, lady.\"\n\nThen the damosel looked at Percival more narrowly and she beheld how noble\nand beautiful was his countenance and she said to herself: \"This is no fool\nnor a jester, but who he is or what he is I know not.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Percival breaks bread in the golden pavilion] So she said to\nPercival, \"Whence comest thou?\" and he said, \"From the mountains and the\nwilderness.\" Then he said: \"Lady, when I left my mother she told me that\nwhenever I saw good food and drink and was an-hungered, I was to take what\nI needed. Now I will do so in this case.\" Whereupon he sat him down to that\ntable and fell to with great appetite.\n\nThen when that damosel beheld what he did she laughed in great measure and\nclapped her hands together in sport. And she said: \"If my father and\nbrothers should return and find thee at this, they would assuredly punish\nthee very sorely, and thou couldst not make thyself right with them.\"\nPercival said, \"Why would they do that, lady?\" And she said: \"Because that\nis their food and drink, and because my father is a king and my brethren\nare his sons.\" Then Percival said, \"Certes, they would be uncourteous to\nbegrudge food to a hungry man\"; and thereat the damsel laughed again.\n\nNow when Percival had eaten and drunk his fill, he arose from where he sat.\nAnd he beheld that the damsel wore a very beautiful ring of carved gold set\nwith a pearl of great price. So he said to her: \"Lady, my mother told me\nthat if I beheld a jewel or treasure and desired it for my own, I was to\ntake it if I could do so without offence to anyone. Now I prithee give me\nthat ring upon thy finger, for I desire it a very great deal.\" At this the\nmaiden regarded Percival very strangely, and she beheld that he was comely\nbeyond any man whom she had ever seen and that his countenance was very\nnoble and exalted and yet exceedingly mild and gentle. So she said to him,\nspeaking very gently, \"Why should I give thee my ring?\" Whereunto he made\nreply: \"Because thou art the most beautiful lady whom mine eyes ever beheld\nand I find that I love thee more than I had thought possible to love\nanyone.\"\n\nAt that the damosel smiled upon him and said, \"What is thy name?\" And he\nsaid, \"It is Percival.\" She said, \"That is a good name; who is thy father?\"\nWhereunto he said: \"That I cannot tell thee for my mother hath bidden me\ntell his name to no one yet whiles.\" She said, \"I think he must be some\nvery noble and worthy knight,\" and Percival said, \"He is all that, for he\ntoo was a king.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The damsel giveth Percival her ring] Then the damsel said,\n\"Thou mayst have my ring,\" and she gave it to him. And when Percival had\nplaced it upon his finger he said: \"My mother also told me that I should\ngive freely of what is mine own, wherefore I do give thee this ring of mine\nin exchange for thine, and I do beseech thee to wear it until I have proved\nmyself worthy of thy kindness. For I hope to win a very famous knighthood\nand great praise and renown, all of which, if I so accomplish my desires,\nshall be to thy great glory. I would fain come to thee another time in that\nwise instead of as I am at this present.\"\n\nAt that the damsel said: \"I know not what thou art or whence thou comest\nwho should present thyself in such an extraordinary guise as thou art\npleased to do, but, certes, thou must be of some very noble strain.\nWherefore I do accept thee for my knight, and I believe that I shall some\ntime have great glory through thee.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Percival salutes the damsel of the golden pavilion] Then\nPercival said: \"Lady, my mother said to me that if I met a damosel I was to\nsalute her with all civility. Now have I thy leave to salute thee?\" And she\nsaid, \"Thou hast my leave.\" So Percival took her by the hand, and kissed\nher upon the lips (for that was the only manner in which he knew how to\nsalute a woman) and, lo! her face grew all red like to fire. Thereupon\nPercival quitted that pavilion and mounted his horse and rode away. And it\nseemed to him that the world was assuredly a very beautiful and wonderful\nplace for to live in.\n\nYet he knew not what the world was really like nor of what a sort it was\nnor how passing wide, else had he not been so certainly assured that he\nwould win him credit therein, or that he could so easily find that young\ndamsel again after he had thus parted from her.\n\nThat night Percival came to a part of the forest where were many huts of\nfolk who made their living by gathering fagots. These people gave him\nharborage and shelter for the night, for they thought that he was some\nharmless madman who had wandered afar. And they told him many things he had\nnever known before that time, so that it appeared to him that the world was\nstill more wonderful than he had thought it to be at first.\n\nSo he abided there for the night, and when the next morning had come he\narose and bathed himself and went his way; and, as he rode upon his poor\nstarved horse, he brake his fast with the bread and cheese that his mother\nhad put into his wallet, and he was very glad at heart and rejoiced\nexceedingly in the wonderfulness and the beauty of the world in which he\nfound himself to be.\n\n[Sidenote: How Percival travelled in the forest] So Percival journeyed on\ninto that forest, and he took such great delight in the beauty of the world\nin which he travelled that he was at times like to shed tears of pure\nhappiness because of the joy he felt in being alive. For that forest path\nhe travelled led beneath the trees of the woodland; and the trees at that\ntime were in their early tender leaf, so that they appeared to shed showers\nof golden light everywhere down upon the earth. And the birds of the\nwoodland sang in every bush and thicket; and, anon, the wood pigeon cooed\nso softly that the heart of Percival yearned with great passion for he knew\nnot what.\n\nThus he rode, somewhiles all in a maze of green, and somewhiles out thence\ninto an open glade where the light was wide and bright; and other whiles he\ncame to some forest stream where was a shallow pool of golden gravel, and\nwhere the water was so thin and clear that you might not tell where it\nended and the pure air began. And therethrough he would drive his horse,\nsplashing with great noise, whilst the little silvery fish would dart away\nupon all sides, hither and thither, like sparks of light before his coming.\n\nSo, because of the beauty of this forest land in its spring-time verdure\nand pleasantness, the heart of Percival was uplifted with so much joy and\ndelight that he was like to weep for pure pleasure as aforesaid.\n\nNow it chanced at that time that King Arthur and several of his court had\ncome into that forest ahawking; but, the day being warm, the Queen had\ngrown weary of the sport, so she had commanded her attendants to set up a\npavilion for her whilst the King continued his hawking. And the pavilion\nwas pitched in an open glade of the forest whereunto Percival came riding.\n\nThen Percival perceived that pavilion set up among the trees, and likewise\nhe saw that the pavilion was of rose colored silk. Also he perceived that\nnot far from him was a young page very gayly and richly clad.\n\n[Sidenote: Percival bespeaketh the Lady Guinevere's page] Now when the\npage beheld Percival and what a singular appearance he presented, he\nlaughed beyond all measure, and Percival, not knowing that he laughed in\nmockery, laughed also and gave him a very cheerful greeting in return. Then\nPercival said to the page: \"I prithee tell me, fair youth, whose is that\npavilion yonder?\" And the page said: \"It belongeth to Queen Guinevere; for\nKing Arthur is coming hither into the forest with his court.\"\n\nAt this Percival was very glad, for he deemed that he should now find Sir\nLamorack. So he said: \"I pray thee tell me, is Sir Lamorack of Gales with\nthe court of the King, for I come hither seeking that good worthy knight?\"\n\nThen the page laughed a very great deal, and said: \"Who art thou to seek\nSir Lamorack? Art thou then a jester?\" And Percival said, \"What sort of a\nthing is a jester?\" And the page said, \"Certes, thou art a silly fool.\" And\nPercival said, \"What is a fool?\"\n\nUpon this the page fell alaughing as though he would never stint his mirth\nso that Percival began to wax angry for he said to himself: \"These people\nlaugh too much and their mirth maketh me weary.\" So, without more ado, he\ndescended from his horse with intent to enter the Queen's pavilion and to\nmake inquiry there for Sir Lamorack.\n\nNow when that page saw what Percival had a mind to do, he thrust in to\nprevent him, saying, \"Thou shalt not go in!\" Upon that Percival said, \"Ha!\nshall I not so?\" And thereupon he smote the page such a buffet that the\nyouth fell down without any motion, as though he had gone dead.\n\nThen Percival straightway entered the Queen's pavilion.\n\n[Sidenote: Percival beholdeth Queen Guinevere] And the first thing he saw\nwas a very beautiful lady surrounded by a court of ladies. And the Queen\nwas eating a mid-day repast whilst a page waited upon her for to serve her,\nbearing for her refreshment pure wine in a cup of entire gold. And he saw\nthat a noble lord (and the lord was Sir Kay the Seneschal), stood in the\nmidst of that beautiful rosy pavilion directing the Queen's repast; for Sir\nKay of all the court had been left in charge of the Queen and her ladies.\n\nNow when Percival entered the tent Sir Kay looked up, and when he perceived\nwhat sort of a figure was there, he frowned with great displeasure. \"Ha!\"\nhe said, \"what mad fool is this who cometh hitherward?\"\n\nUnto him Percival made reply: \"Thou tall man, I prithee tell me, which of\nthese ladies present here is the Queen?\" Sir Kay said, \"What wouldst thou\nhave with the Queen?\" To this Percival said: \"I have come hither for to lay\nmy case before King Arthur, and my case is this: I would fain obtain\nknighthood, and meseems that King Arthur may best help me thereunto.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Kay chides Percival] When the Queen heard the words of\nPercival she laughed with great merriment. But Sir Kay was still very\nwroth, and he said: \"Sirrah, thou certainly art some silly fool who hath\ncome hither dressed all in armor of willow twigs and without arms or\nequipment of any sort save only a little Scots spear. Now this is the\nQueen's court and thou art not fit to be here.\"\n\n\"Ha,\" said Percival, \"it seems to me that thou art very foolish--thou tall\nman--to judge of me by my dress and equipment. For, even though I wear such\npoor apparel as this, yet I may easily be thy superior both in birth and\nstation.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Boindegardus enters the Queen's pavilion] Then Sir Kay was\nexceedingly wroth and would have made a very bitter answer to Percival, but\nat that moment something of another sort befell. For, even as Percival\nceased speaking, there suddenly entered the pavilion a certain very large\nand savage knight of an exceedingly terrible appearance; and his\ncountenance was very furious with anger. And this knight was one Sir\nBoindegardus le Savage, who was held in terror by all that part of King\nArthur's realm. For Sir Boindegardus was surnamed the Savage because he\ndwelt like a wild man in the forest in a lonely dismal castle of the\nwoodland; and because that from this castle he would issue forth at times\nto rob and pillage the wayfarers who passed by along the forest byways.\nMany knights had gone against Sir Boindegardus, with intent either to slay\nhim or else to make him prisoner; but some of these knights he had\novercome, and from others he had escaped, so that he was as yet free to\nwork his evil will as he chose.\n\nSo now this savage knight entered that pavilion with his helmet upon his\nhip and his shield upon his shoulder, and all those ladies who were there\nwere terrified at his coming, for they wist that he came in anger with\nintent of mischief.\n\nAs for Sir Kay (he being clad only in a silken tunic of green color and\nwith scarlet hosen and velvet shoes, fit for the court of a lady) he was\nafraid, and he wist not how to bear himself in the presence of Sir\nBoindegardus. Then Sir Boindegardus said, \"Where is King Arthur?\" And Sir\nKay made no reply because of fear. Then one of the Queen's damsels said,\n\"He is hawking out beyond here in the outskirts of the forest.\" Then Sir\nBoindegardus said: \"I am sorry for that, for I had thought to find him here\nat this time and to show challenge to him and his entire court, for I fear\nno one of them. But, as King Arthur is not here, I may, at least, affront\nhis Queen.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Boindegardus affronts the Queen] With that he smote the\nelbow of the page who held the goblet for the Queen, and the wine was\nsplashed all in the Queen's face and over her stomacher.\n\nThereupon the Queen shrieked with terror, and one of her maidens ran to her\naid and others came with napkins and wiped her face and her apparel and\ngave her words of cheer.\n\nThen Sir Kay found courage to say: \"Ha! thou art a churlish knight to so\naffront a lady.\"\n\nWith that Sir Boindegardus turned very fiercely upon him and said: \"And\nthou likest not my behavior, thou mayst follow me hence into a meadow a\nlittle distance from this to the eastward where thou mayst avenge that\naffront upon my person if thou art minded to do so.\"\n\nThen Sir Kay knew not what to reply for he wist that Sir Boindegardus was a\nvery strong and terrible knight. Wherefore he said, \"Thou seest that I am\naltogether without arms or armor.\" Upon that Sir Boindegardus laughed in\ngreat scorn, and therewith seized the golden goblet from the hands of the\npage and went out from the pavilion, and mounting his horse rode away\nbearing that precious chalice with him.\n\n[Sidenote: Percival berates Sir Kay] Then the Queen fell aweeping very\nsorely from fright and shame, and when young Percival beheld her tears, he\ncould not abide the sight thereof. So he cried out aloud against Sir Kay,\nsaying: \"Thou tall man! that was very ill done of thee; for, certes, with\nor without armor thou shouldst have taken the quarrel of this lady upon\nthee. For my mother told me I should take upon me the defence of all such\nas needed defence, but she did not say that I was to wait for arms or armor\nto aid me to do what was right. Now, therefore, though I know little of\narms or of knighthood, I will take this quarrel upon myself and will do\nwhat I may to avenge this lady's affront, if I have her leave to do so.\"\n\nAnd Queen Guinevere said: \"Thou hast my leave, since Sir Kay does not\nchoose to assume my quarrel.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The damsel praises Percival] Now there was a certain very\nbeautiful young damsel of the court of the Queen hight Yelande, surnamed\nthe \"Dumb Maiden,\" because she would hold no commerce with any knight of\nthe court. For in all the year she had been at the court of the King, she\nhad spoken no word to any man, nor had she smiled upon any. This damsel\nperceiving how comely and noble was the countenance of Percival, came to\nhim and took him by the hand and smiled upon him very kindly. And she said\nto him: \"Fair youth, thou hast a large and noble heart, and I feel very\nwell assured that thou art of a sort altogether different from what thine\nappearance would lead one to suppose. Now I do affirm that if thou art able\nto carry this adventure through with thy life, thou wilt some time become\none of the greatest knights in all of the world. For never did I hear tell\nof one who, without arm or armor, would take up a quarrel with a\nwell-approved knight clad in full array. But indeed thy heart is as brave\nas thy face is comely, and I believe that thou art as noble as thy speech\nand manner is gentle.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Kay strikes the damsel] Then Sir Kay was very angry with\nthat damsel and he said: \"Truly, thou art ill taught to remain for all this\nyear in the court of King Arthur amid the perfect flower of chivalry and\nyet not to have given to one of those noble and honorable knights a single\nword or a smile such as thou hast bestowed upon this boor.\" So saying, he\nlifted his hand and smote that damsel a box on the ear so that she screamed\nout aloud with pain and terror.\n\nUpon this Percival came very close to Sir Kay and he said: \"Thou\ndiscourteous tall man; now I tell thee, except that there are so many\nladies here present, and one of these a Queen, I would have to do with thee\nin such a manner as I do not believe would be at all to thy liking. Now,\nfirst of all I shall follow yonder uncivil knight and endeavor to avenge\nthis noble Queen for the affront he hath put upon her, and when I have done\nwith him, then will I hope for the time to come in which I shall have to do\nwith thee for laying hands upon this beautiful young lady who was so kind\nto me just now. For, in the fulness of time, I will repay the foul blow\nthou gavest her, and that twenty-fold.\"\n\nThereupon Percival straightway went out from that pavilion and mounted upon\nhis sorry horse and rode away in the direction that Sir Boindegardus had\ntaken with the golden goblet.\n\n[Sidenote: Percival follows Sir Boindegardus] Now after a long time, he\ncame to another level meadow of grass, and there he beheld Sir Boindegardus\nriding before him in great state with the golden goblet hanging to the horn\nof his saddle. And Sir Boindegardus wore his helmet and carried his spear\nin his right hand and his shield upon his other arm, and he was in all ways\nprepared for an encounter at arms. And when he perceived Percival come\nriding out of the forest in pursuit of him, he drew rein and turned. And\nwhen Percival had come nigh enough Sir Boindegardus said, \"Whence comest\nthou, fool?\" Percival replied, \"I come from Queen Guinevere, her pavilion.\"\nThen Sir Boindegardus said, \"Does that knight who was there follow me\nhitherward?\" Unto which Percival made reply: \"Nay, but I have followed thee\nwith intent to punish thee for the affront which thou didst put upon Queen\nGuinevere.\"\n\nThen Sir Boindegardus was very wroth and he said: \"Thou fool; I have a very\ngood intention for to slay thee.\" Therewith he raised his spear and smote\nPercival with it upon the back of the neck so terrible a blow that he was\nflung violently down from off his horse. Upon this Percival was so angry\nthat the sky all became like scarlet before his eyes. Wherefore, when he\nhad recovered from the blow he ran unto Sir Boindegardus and catched the\nspear in his hands and wrestled with such terrible strength that he plucked\nit away from Sir Boindegardus. And having thus made himself master of that\nspear, he brake it across his knee and flung it away.\n\n[Sidenote: Percival slays Sir Boindegardus] Then Sir Boindegardus was in\nfurious rage, wherefore he drew his bright, shining sword with intent to\nslay Percival. But when Percival saw what he would be at, he catched up his\njavelin and, running to a little distance, he turned and threw it at Sir\nBoindegardus with so cunning an aim that the point of the javelin entered\nthe ocularium of the helmet of Sir Boindegardus and pierced through the eye\nand the brain and came out of the back of the head. Then Sir Boindegardus\npitched down from off his horse all into a heap upon the ground, and\nPercival ran to him and stooped over him and perceived that he was dead.\nThen Percival said: \"Well, it would seem that I have put an end to a\nterribly discourteous knight to ladies.\"\n\n[Sidenote: King Arthur sends Sir Launcelot and Sir Lamorack in quest of\nPercival] Now a little after Percival had quitted the pavilion of Queen\nGuinevere, King Arthur and eleven noble knights of the court returned\nthither from hawking, and amongst those knights was Sir Launcelot of the\nLake and Sir Lamorack of Gales. Then those who were of the Queen's court\ntold King Arthur what had befallen, and thereat the King felt great\ndispleasure toward Sir Kay. And he said: \"Kay, not only hast thou been very\ndiscourteous in not assuming this quarrel of the Queen's, but I believe\nthat thou, a well-approved knight, hast in thy fear of Sir Boindegardus\nbeen the cause of sending this youth upon an adventure in which he will be\nsubject to such great danger that it may very well be that he shall hardly\nescape with his life. Now I will that two of you knights shall follow after\nthat youth for to rescue him if it be not too late; and those two shall be\nSir Launcelot of the Lake and Sir Lamorack of Gales. So make all haste,\nMessires, lest some misfortune shall befall this brave, innocent madman.\"\n\nThereupon those two knights mounted straightway upon their horses and rode\naway in that direction whither Percival had gone.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Percival & Sir Lamorack ride together]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Second\n\n\n_How Sir Percival was made knight by King Arthur; how he rode forth with\nSir Lamorack and how he left Sir Lamorack in quest of adventure upon his\nown account; likewise how a great knight taught him craft in arms_.\n\nSo after a considerable time they came to that meadow-land where Percival\nhad found Sir Boindegardus.\n\n[Sidenote: How the two knights find Percival in the meadow] But when they\ncame to that place they perceived a very strange sight. For they beheld one\nclad all in armor of wattled willow-twigs and that one dragged the body of\nan armed knight hither and thither upon the ground. So they two rode up to\nwhere that affair was toward, and when they had come nigh enough, Sir\nLauncelot said: \"Ha, fair youth, thou art doing a very strange thing. What\nart thou about?\"\n\nTo him Percival said: \"Sir, I would get those plates of armor off this\nknight, and I know not how to do it!\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot laughed, and he said: \"Let be for a little while, and I\nwill show thee how to get the plates of armor off.\" And he said: \"How came\nthis knight by his death.\"\n\nPercival said: \"Sir, this knight hath greatly insulted Queen Guinevere\n(that beautiful lady), and when I followed him thither with intent to take\nher quarrel upon me, he struck me with his spear. And when I took his spear\naway from him, and brake it across my knee, he drew his sword and would\nhave slain me, only that I slew him instead.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot was filled with amazement, and he said: \"Is not that\nknight Sir Boindegardus?\" And Percival said: \"Ay.\" Then Sir Launcelot said:\n\"Fair youth, know that thou hast slain one of the strongest and most\nterrible knights in all the world. In this thou hast done a great service\nunto King Arthur, so if thou wilt come with us to the court of King Arthur,\nhe will doubtless reward thee very bountifully for what thou hast done.\"\n\nThen Percival looked up into the faces of Sir Launcelot and Sir Lamorack\nand he perceived that they were very noble. So he smiled upon them and\nsaid: \"Messires, I pray you tell me who you are and what is your degree.\"\nThen Sir Launcelot smiled in return and said: \"I am called Sir Launcelot of\nthe Lake, and this, my companion, is called Sir Lamorack of Gales.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Percival knoweth Sir Lamorack] Then Percival wist that he stood\nin the presence of his own brother, and he looked into the countenance of\nSir Lamorack and marvelled how noble and exalted it was. And he felt a\ngreat passion of love for Sir Lamorack, and a great joy in that love. But\nhe did not tell Sir Lamorack who he was, for he had learned several things\nsince he had come out into the world, and one was that he must not be too\nhasty in such things. So he said to himself: \"I will not as yet tell my\nbrother who I am, lest he shall be ashamed of me. But first I shall win me\nsuch credit that he shall not be ashamed of me, and then I will acknowledge\nto him who I am.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot said: \"I prithee, fair youth, tell me what is thy name\nsince I have told thee ours, for I find that I have great love for thee so\nthat I would fain know who thou art.\"\n\nThen Percival said: \"My name is Percival.\"\n\nAt that Sir Lamorack cried out: \"I knew one whose name was Percival, and he\nwas mine own brother. And if he be alive he must now be just such a youth\nas thou art.\"\n\nThen Percival's heart yearned toward Sir Lamorack, so that he looked up and\nsmiled with great love into his face; yet he would not acknowledge to Sir\nLamorack who he was, but held his peace for that while.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot said: \"Now, fair youth, we will show you how to take the\narmor off of this dead knight, and after we have done that, we shall take\nyou back to King Arthur, so that he may reward you for what you have done\nin the way that he may deem best.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The two knights arm Percival] So with that Sir Launcelot and\nSir Lamorack dismounted from their horses, and they went to that dead\nknight and unlaced his armor and removed the armor from his body. And when\nthey had done that they aided Percival to remove the armor of wattled osier\ntwigs and they cased him in the armor of Sir Boindegardus; and thereafter\nthey all three rode back to that pavilion where the King and Queen were\nholding court.\n\nBut when King Arthur heard that Sir Boindegardus was dead he was filled\nwith great joy; and when he heard how it was that Percival had slain him,\nhe was amazed beyond measure; and he said to Percival: \"Surely God is with\nthee, fair youth, to help thee to perform such a worthy feat of arms as\nthis that thou hast done, for no knight yet hath been able to perform that\nservice.\" Then he said: \"Tell me what it is that thou hast most desire to\nhave, and if it is in my power to give it to thee thou shalt have it.\"\n\nThen Percival kneeled down before King Arthur, and he said: \"Lord, that\nwhich I most desire of all things else is to be made knight. So if it is in\nthy power to do so, I pray thee to make me a knight-royal with thine own\nhands.\"\n\nThen King Arthur smiled upon Percival very kindly, and he said: \"Percival,\nit shall be as thou dost desire, and to-morrow I will make thee a knight.\"\n\n[Sidenote: King Arthur makes Percival a knight-royal] So that night\nPercival watched his armor in the chapel of a hermit of the forest, and the\narmor that he watched was the armor that had belonged to Sir Boindegardus\n(for Percival besought King Arthur that he might wear that armor for his\nown because it was what he himself had won in battle). And when the next\nmorning had come, Sir Launcelot and Sir Lamorack brought Percival before\nKing Arthur, and King Arthur made him a knight.\n\nAfter that Sir Percival besought King Arthur that he would give him leave\nto depart from court so that he might do some worthy deed of arms that\nmight win him worship; and King Arthur gave him that leave he asked for.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival threatens Sir Kay] Then Sir Percival went to where\nSir Kay was sitting, and he said: \"Messire, I have not forgot that blow you\ngave that fair damsel yesterday when she spake so kindly to me. As yet I am\ntoo young a knight to handle you; but by and by the time will come when I\nshall return and repay you that blow tenfold and twentyfold what you gave!\"\nAnd at these words Sir Kay was in no wise pleased, for he wist that Sir\nPercival would one day become a very strong and worthy knight.\n\nNow all this while the heart of Sir Lamorack yearned very greatly toward\nSir Percival, though Sir Lamorack knew not why that should be; so when Sir\nPercival had obtained permission to go errant, Sir Lamorack asked King\nArthur for leave to ride forth so as to be with him; and King Arthur gave\nSir Lamorack that leave.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival and Sir Lamorack ride together] Thus it befell\nthat Sir Lamorack and Sir Percival rode forth together very lovingly and\ncheerfully. And as they rode upon their way Sir Lamorack told Sir Percival\nmany things concerning the circumstances of knighthood, and to all that he\nsaid Sir Percival gave great heed. But Sir Lamorack knew not that he was\nriding with his own brother or that it was his own brother to whom he was\nteaching the mysteries of chivalry, and Sir Percival told him nothing\nthereof. But ever in his heart Sir Percival said to himself: \"If God will\ngive me enough of His grace, I will some day do full credit unto thy\nteaching, O my brother!\"\n\nNow, after Sir Percival and Sir Lamorack had travelled a great way, they\ncame at last out of that forest and to an open country where was a\nwell-tilled land and a wide, smooth river flowing down a level plain.\n\nAnd in the centre of that plain was a town of considerable size, and a very\nlarge castle with several tall towers and many roofs and chimneys that\nstood overlooking the town.\n\nThat time they came thitherward the day was declining toward its close, so\nthat all the sky toward the westward shone, like, as it were, to a flame of\ngold--exceedingly beautiful. And the highway upon which they entered was\nvery broad and smooth, like to a floor for smoothness. And there were all\nsorts of folk passing along that highway; some afoot and some ahorseback.\nAlso there was a river path beside the river where the horses dragged\ndeep-laden barges down to the town and thence again; and these barges were\nall painted in bright colors, and the horses were bedight with gay harness\nand hung with tinkling bells.\n\nAll these things Sir Percival beheld with wonder for he had never seen\ntheir like before; wherefore he cried out with amazement, saying: \"Saints\nof Glory! How great and wonderful is the world!\"\n\nThen Sir Lamorack looked upon him and smiled with great loving-kindness;\nand he said: \"Ha, Percival! This is so small a part of the world that it is\nbut a patch upon it.\"\n\nUnto this Sir Percival made reply: \"Dear Messire, I am so glad that I have\ncome forth into the world that I am hardly able to know whether I am in a\nvision or am awake.\"\n\nSo, after a considerable while, they came to that town with its castle, and\nthese stood close beside the river--and the town and the castle were hight\nCardennan. And the town was of great consideration, being very well famed\nfor its dyed woollen fabrics.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival and Sir Lamorack come to Cardennan] So Sir\nPercival and Sir Lamorack entered the town. And when Sir Percival beheld\nall the people in the streets, coming and going upon their businesses; and\nwhen he beheld all the gay colors and apparels of fine fabrics that the\npeople wore; and when he beheld the many booths filled with rich wares of\ndivers sorts, he wist not what to think for the wonder that possessed him;\nwherefore he cried out aloud, as with great passion: \"What marvel do I\nbehold! I knew not that a city could be so great as this.\"\n\nAnd again Sir Lamorack smiled very kindly upon him and said: \"Sayst thou\nso? Now I tell thee that when one compares this place with Camelot (which\nis the King's city) it is as a star compared to the full moon in her\nglory.\" And at that Sir Percival knew not what to think for wonder.\n\nSo they went up the street of the town until they came to the castle of\nCardennan and there requested admission. And when the name and the estate\nof Sir Lamorack were declared, the porter opened the gate with great joy\nand they entered. Then, by and by, the lord and the lady of the castle came\ndown from a carved wooden gallery and bade them welcome by word of mouth.\nAnd after that sundry attendants immediately appeared and assisted Sir\nPercival and Sir Lamorack to dismount and took their horses to the stable,\nand sundry other attendants conducted them to certain apartments where they\nwere eased of their armor and bathed in baths of tepid water and given soft\nraiment for to wear. After that the lord and the lady entertained them with\na great feast, where harpers and singers made music, and where certain\nactors acted a mystery before them.\n\n[Sidenote: How the two knights were welcomed by the lord and lady of the\ncastle] So these two knights and the lord and the lady of the castle ate\ntogether and discoursed very pleasantly for a while; but, when the evening\nwas pretty well gone, Sir Lamorack bade good-night, and he and Sir Percival\nwere conducted to a certain very noble apartment where beds of down, spread\nwith flame-colored cloth, had been prepared for their repose.\n\nThus ended that day which was the first day of the knighthood of Sir\nPercival of Gales.\n\nNow though Sir Percival had travelled very contentedly with Sir Lamorack\nfor all that while, yet he had determined in his own mind that, as soon as\npossible, he would leave Sir Lamorack and depart upon his own quest. For he\nsaid to himself: \"Lo! I am a very green knight as yet, and haply my brother\nmay grow weary of my company and cease to love me. So I will leave him ere\nhe have the chance to tire of me, and I will seek knighthood for myself.\nAfter that, if God wills it that I shall win worthy knighthood, then my\nbrother will be glad enough to acknowledge me as his father's son.\"\n\nSo when the next morning had come, Sir Percival arose very softly all in\nthe dawning, and he put on his armor without disturbing Sir Lamorack. Then\nhe stooped and looked into Sir Lamorack's face and beheld that his brother\nwas still enfolded in a deep sleep as in a soft mantle. And as Sir Percival\ngazed upon Sir Lamorack thus asleep, he loved him with such ardor that he\ncould hardly bear the strength of his love. But he said to himself: \"Sleep\non, my brother, whilst I go away and leave thee. But when I have earned me\ngreat glory, then will I return unto thee and will lay all that I have\nachieved at thy feet, so that thou shalt be very glad to acknowledge me.\"\nSo saying to himself, he went away from that place very softly, and Sir\nLamorack slept so deeply that he wist not that Sir Percival was gone.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival leaves Sir Lamorack] Thereafter Sir Percival went\nto the courtyard of the castle and he bade certain attendants to prepare\nhis horse for him, and they did so. And he bade certain others for to arm\nhim, and they did so. Thereupon he mounted his horse and left that castle\nand rode away.\n\nNow after Sir Percival had left Sir Lamorack still sleeping in the castle\nas aforetold, he journeyed upon his way, taking great pleasure in all\nthings that he beheld. So he travelled all that morning, and the day was\nvery bright and warm, so that by and by he was an-hungered and athirst. So\nafter a while he came to a certain road that appeared to him to be good for\nhis purpose, so he took that way in great hopes that some adventure would\nbefall him, or else that he would find food and drink.\n\nThen after a while he heard a bell ringing, and after he had followed that\nbell for some distance, he came to where was the dwelling-place of a hermit\nand where was a small chapel by the wayside. And Sir Percival beheld that\nthe hermit, who was an old man with a long white beard, rang the bell of\nthat chapel.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival meets his fate at the forest chapel] So Sir\nPercival thought that here he might find food and drink; and so he rode\nforward to where the hermit was ringing the bell. But when Sir Percival\ncame still more nigh he perceived that behind the chapel and to one side\nthere was a very noble knight upon horseback; and he perceived that the\nknight was clad all in white armor and that his horse (which was white as\nmilk and of very noble strength and proportions) was furnished altogether\nwith furniture of white.\n\nThis knight, when he perceived Sir Percival, immediately rode up to meet\nhim and saluted Sir Percival very courteously. And the knight said: \"Sir,\nwill you not joust a fall with me ere you break your fast? For this is a\nvery fair and level field of green grass and well fitted for such a\nfriendly trial at arms if you have the time for it.\"\n\nUnto this Sir Percival said: \"Messire, I will gladly try a fall with you,\nthough I must tell you that I am a very young green knight, having been\nknighted only yesterday by King Arthur himself. But though I am unskilled\nin arms, yet it will pleasure me a great deal to accept so gentle and\ncourteous a challenge as that which you give me.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival is overthrown by the white knight] So with that\neach knight turned his horse and each took such stand as appeared to him to\nbe best. And when they were in all ways prepared, they drave their horses\ntogether with great speed, the one against the other, meeting one another,\nshield against spear, in the very midst of the course. In that encounter\n(which was the first that he ever ran) Sir Percival bare himself very well\nand with great knightliness of endeavor; for he broke his spear upon the\nwhite knight into small pieces. But the spear of the white knight held so\nthat Sir Percival was lifted out of his saddle and over the crupper of his\nhorse, and fell upon the ground with great violence and a cloud of dust.\n\nThen the white knight returned from his course and came up to where Sir\nPercival was. And he inquired of him very courteously: \"Sir, art thou\nhurt?\" Thereunto Sir Percival replied: \"Nay, sir! I am not hurt, only\nsomewhat shaken by my fall.'\"\n\nThen the white knight dismounted from his horse and came to where Sir\nPercival was. And he lifted up the umbril of his helmet, and Sir Percival\nperceived that that white knight was Sir Launcelot of the Lake.\n\nAnd Sir Launcelot said: \"Percival, I well knew who you were from the first,\nbut I thought I would see of what mettle you are, and I have found that you\nare of very good mettle indeed. But you are to know that it is impossible\nfor a young knight such as you, who knoweth naught of the use of knightly\nweapons, to have to do with a knight well-seasoned in arms as I am, and to\nhave any hope of success in such an encounter. Wherefore you need to be\ntaught the craft of using your weapons perfectly.\"\n\nTo this Sir Percival said: \"Messire, tell me, how may I hope to acquire\ncraft at arms such as may serve me in such a stead as this?\"\n\nSir Launcelot said: \"I myself will teach thee, imparting to thee such skill\nas I have at my command. Less than half a day's journey to the southward of\nthis is my castle of Joyous Gard. Thither I was upon my way when I met thee\nhere. Now thou shalt go with me unto Joyous Gard, and there thou shalt\nabide until thou art in all ways taught the use of arms so that thou mayst\nuphold that knighthood which I believe God hath endowed thee withal.\"\n\nSo after that Sir Launcelot and Sir Percival went to the dwelling-place of\nthe hermit, and the hermit fed them with the best of that simple fare which\nhe had at his command.\n\n[Sidenote: How Sir Percival dwelt at Joyous Gard] After that, they mounted\nhorse again and rode away to Joyous Gard, and there Sir Percival abided for\na year, training himself in all wise so as to prepare himself to uphold\nthat knighthood which in him became so famous. For, during that year Sir\nLauncelot was his teacher in the art of arms. Likewise he instructed him in\nall the civilities and the customs of chivalry, so it befell that ere Sir\nPercival came forth from Joyous Gard again he was well acquainted with all\nthe ways in which he should comport himself at any time, whether in field\nor in court.\n\nSo when Sir Percival came forth again from Joyous Gard, there was no\nknight, unless it was Sir Launcelot himself, who could surpass him in skill\nat arms; nay, not even his own brother, Sir Lamorack; nor was there\nanybody, even if one were Sir Gawaine or Sir Geraint, who surpassed him in\ncivility of courtliness or nobility of demeanor.\n\nAnd now I shall tell you of the great adventure that befell Sir Percival\nafter Sir Launcelot had thus taught him at Joyous Gard.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Percival overcometh ye Enchantress Vivien]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Third\n\n\n_How Sir Percival met two strange people in the forest, and how he succored\na knight who was in very great sorrow and dole._\n\nNow after Sir Percival had left Joyous Gard he rode for several days\nseeking adventure but meeting none.\n\nThen one day he came to a very dark and wonderful forest which appeared to\nbe so silent and lonely and yet so full of beauty that Sir Percival\nbethought him that this must surely be some forest of magic. So he entered\ninto that forest with intent to discover if he might find any worthy\nadventure therein.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival enters the Forest of Arroy] (And that forest was a\nforest of magic; for you are to know that it was the Forest of Arroy,\nsometimes called the Forest of Adventure, which was several times spoken of\nin the book of King Arthur. For no one ever entered into that forest but\nsome singular adventure befell him.)\n\nSo Sir Percival rode through this wonderful woodland for a long time very\ngreatly wondering, for everywhere about him was perfect silence, with not\nso much as a single note of a bird of the woodlands to lighten that\nstillness. Now, as Sir Percival rode through that silence, he presently\nbecame aware of the sound of voices talking together, and shortly\nthereafter he perceived a knight with a lady riding amid the thin trees\nthat grew there. And the knight rode upon a great white horse, and the lady\nrode upon a red roan palfrey.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival meets two strange people] These, when they beheld\nSir Percival, waited for him, and as Sir Percival drew nigh to them he\nperceived that they were of a very singular appearance. For both of them\nwere clad altogether in green, and both of them wore about their necks very\nwonderful collars of wrought gold inset with opal stones and emeralds. And\nthe face of each was like clear wax for whiteness; and the eyes of each\nwere very bright, like jewels set in ivory. And these two neither laughed\nnor frowned, but only smiled continually. And that knight whom Sir Percival\nbeheld was Sir Pellias, and the lady was the Lady Nymue of the Lake.\n\nNow when Sir Percival beheld these two, he wist that they were fay,\nwherefore he dismounted very quickly, and kneeled down upon the ground and\nset his palms together. Then the Lady of the Lake smiled very kindly upon\nSir Percival, and she said: \"Sir Percival, arise, and tell me what you do\nin these parts?\"\n\nThen Sir Percival arose and he stood before that knight and lady, and he\nsaid: \"Lady, I wist not how you know who I am, but I believe you are fay\nand know many things. Touching my purpose in coming here, it is that I am\nin search of adventure. So if you know of any that I may undertake for your\nsake, I pray you to tell me of it.\"\n\nThe lady said: \"If so be thy desire is of that sort, I may, perchance be\nable to bring thee unto an adventure that is worthy for any knight to\nundertake. Go a little distance from this upon the way thou art following\nand by and by thou wilt behold a bird whose feathers shall shine like to\ngold for brightness. Follow that bird and it will bring thee to a place\nwhere thou shalt find a knight in sore need of thy aid.\"\n\nAnd Percival said: \"I will do as thou dost advise.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady of the Lake giveth Sir Percival a charm] Then the lady\nsaid: \"Wait a little, I have something for thee.\" Therewith she took from\nher neck a small golden amulet pendant from a silken cord very fine and\nthin. And she said: \"Wear this for it will protect thee from all evil\nenchantments.\" Therewith saying, she hung the amulet about the neck of Sir\nPercival, and Sir Percival gave her thanks beyond measure for it.\n\nThen the knight and the lady saluted him and he saluted them, and they each\nwent their separate ways.\n\n[Sidenote: How Percival followed the golden bird] So Sir Percival\ntravelled that path for some distance as the lady had advised him to do,\nand by and by he beheld the bird of which she had spoken. And he saw that\nthe plumage of the bird glistered as though it was of gold so that he\nmarvelled at it. And as he drew nigh the bird flew a little distance down\nthe path and then lit upon the ground and he followed it. And when he had\ncome nigh to it again it flew a distance farther and still he followed it.\nSo it flew and he followed for a very great way until by and by the forest\ngrew thin and Sir Percival beheld that there was an open country lying\nbeyond the skirts thereof. And when the bird had brought him thus far it\nsuddenly flew back into the forest again whence it had come, chirping very\nkeenly and shrilly as it flew.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival beholds a wonderful castle] So Percival came out\nof the forest into the open country, the like of which he had never before\nseen, for it was a very desolate barren waste of land. And in the midst of\nthis desolate plain there stood a castle of a very wonderful appearance;\nfor in some parts it was the color of ultramarine and in other parts it was\nof crimson; and the ultramarine and the crimson were embellished with very\nextraordinary devices painted in gold. So because of all those\nextraordinary colors, that castle shone like a bright rainbow against the\nsky, wherefore Sir Percival sat his horse for some while and marvelled very\ngreatly thereat.\n\nThen, by and by Sir Percival perceived that the road that led to the castle\ncrossed a bridge of stone, and when he looked at the bridge he saw that\nmidway upon it was a pillar of stone and that a knight clad all in full\narmor stood chained with iron chains to that stone pillar, and at that\nsight Sir Percival was very greatly astonished. So he rode very rapidly\nalong that way and so to the bridge and upon the bridge to where the knight\nwas. And when Sir Percival came thus upon the bridge he perceived that the\nknight who was bound with chains was very noble and haughty of appearance,\nbut that he seemed to be in great pain and suffering because of his being\nthus bound to that pillar. For the captive knight made continual moan so\nthat it moved the heart of Sir Percival to hear him.\n\nSo Sir Percival said: \"Sir Knight, this is a sorrowful condition thou art\nin.\" And the knight said: \"Yea, and I am sorrowful; for I have stood here\nnow for three days and I am in great torment of mind and body.\"\n\nSir Percival said, \"Maybe I can aid thee,\" and thereupon he got down from\noff his horse's back and approached the knight. And he drew his sword so\nthat it flashed in the sun very brightly.\n\nUpon this the knight said: \"Messire, what would you be at?\" And Sir\nPercival said: \"I would cut the chains that bind thee.\"\n\nTo this the knight said: \"How could you do that? For who could cut through\nchains of iron such as these?\"\n\nBut Sir Percival said: \"I will try what I may do.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival sets free the captive knight] Thereupon he lifted\nup his sword and smote so terribly powerful a blow that the like of it had\nhardly ever been seen before. For that blow cut through the iron chains and\nsmote the hauberk of the knight so smart a buffet that he fell down to the\nground altogether deprived of breath.\n\nBut when Sir Percival saw the knight fall down in that wise, he cried out:\n\"Woe is me! Have I slain this good, gentle knight when I would but do him\nservice?\" Thereupon he lifted the knight up upon his knee and eased the\narmor about his throat. But the knight was not dead, and by and by the\nbreath came back to him again, and he said: \"By my faith, that was the most\nwonderful stroke that ever I beheld any man strike in all of my life.\"\n\nThereafter, when the knight had sufficiently recovered, Sir Percival helped\nhim to stand upon his feet; and when he stood thus his strength presently\ncame back to him again in great measure.\n\nAnd the knight was athirst and craved very vehemently to drink. So Sir\nPercival helped him to descend a narrow path that led to a stream of water\nthat flowed beneath the bridge; and there the knight stooped and slaked his\nthirst. And when he had drunk his fill, his strength came altogether back\nto him again, and he said: \"Messire, I have to give thee all thanks that it\nis possible for me to do, for hadst thou not come unto mine aid, I would\nelse have perished very miserably and at no very distant time from this.\"\n\nThen Sir Percival said: \"I beseech you, Messire, to tell me how you came\ninto that sad plight in which I found you.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The knight telleth his story] To this the knight said: \"I will\ntell you; it was thus: Two days ago I came thitherward and past yonder\ncastle, and with me were two excellent esquires--for I am a knight of royal\nblood. Now as we went past that castle there came forth a lady clad all in\nred and so exceedingly beautiful that she entirely enchanted my heart. And\nwith this lady there came a number of esquires and pages, all of them very\nbeautiful of face, and all clad, as she was, in red. Now when this lady had\ncome nigh to me she spoke me very fair and tempted me with kind words so\nthat I thought I had never fallen upon anyone so courteous as she. But when\nshe had come real close to me, she smote me of a sudden across the\nshoulders with an ebony staff that she carried in her hand, and at the same\ntime she cried out certain words that I remember not. For immediately a\ngreat darkness like to a deep swoon fell upon me and I knew nothing. And\nwhen I awakened from that swoon lo! I found myself here, chained fast to\nthis stone pillar. And hadst thou not come hither I would else certainly\nhave died in my torment. And as to what hath become of my esquires, I know\nnot; but as for that lady, methinks she can be none other than a certain\nenchantress, hight Vivien, who hath wrought such powerful spells upon\nMerlin as to have removed him from the eyes of all mankind.\"\n\nUnto all this Sir Percival listened in great wonder, and when the knight\nhad ended his tale he said: \"What is thy name?\" And the knight said: \"My\nname is Percydes and I am the son of King Pecheur--so called because he is\nthe king of all the fisher-folk who dwell upon the West coast. And now I\nprithee tell me also thy name and condition, for I find I love thee a very\ngreat deal.\"\n\nAnd Sir Percival said: \"My name is Percival, but I may not at this present\ntell thee my condition and of whom I am born; for that I must keep secret\nuntil I have won me good credit as a knight. But now I have somewhat to do,\nand that is to deal with this lady Vivien as she shall deserve.\"\n\nUpon that Sir Percydes cried out: \"Go not near to that sorceress, else she\nwill do some great harm to thee with her potent spells as she did to me.\"\n\nBut Sir Percival said: \"I have no fear of her.\"\n\nSo Sir Percival arose and crossed the bridge and went toward that wonderful\nenchanted castle; and Sir Percydes would have gone with him, but Sir\nPercival said: \"Stay where thou art.\" And so Sir Percydes stayed and Sir\nPercival went forward alone.\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady Vivien cometh forth to Sir Percival] Now as he drew\nnigh to the castle the gate thereof was opened, and there came forth thence\nan extraordinarily beautiful lady surrounded by a court of esquires and\npages all very beautiful of countenance. And this lady and all of her court\nwere clad in red so that they shone like to several flames of fire. And the\nlady's hair was as red as gold, and she wore gold ornaments about her neck\nso that she glistered exceedingly and was very wonderful to behold. And her\neyebrows were very black and fine and were joined in the middle like two\nfine lines drawn together with a pencil, and her eyes were narrow and\nblack, shining like those of a snake.\n\nThen when Sir Percival beheld this lady how singularly beautiful she was he\nwas altogether enchanted so that he could not forbear to approach her. And,\nlo! she stood still and smiled upon him so that his heart stirred within\nhis bosom like as though it pulled at the strings that held it. Then she\nsaid to Sir Percival, speaking in a very sweet and gentle voice: \"Sir\nKnight, thou art welcome to this place. It would pleasure us very greatly\nif thou wouldst consider this castle as though it were thine own and would\nabide within it with me for a while.\" Therewith speaking she smiled again\nupon Sir Percival more cunningly than before and reached out her hand\ntoward him.\n\nThen Sir Percival came toward her with intent to take her hand, she smiling\nupon him all the while so that he could not do otherwise than as she\nwilled.\n\nNow in the other hand this lady held an ebony staff of about an ell in\nlength, and when Sir Percival had come close enough to her, she lifted this\nstaff of a sudden and smote him with it very violently across the\nshoulders, crying out at the same time, in a voice terribly piercing and\nshrill: \"Be thou a stone!\"\n\nThen that charm that the Lady of the Lake had hung around the neck of Sir\nPercival stood him in good stead, for, excepting for it, he would that\ninstant have been transformed into a stone. But the charm of the sorceress\ndid not work upon him, being prevented by the greater charm of that golden\namulet.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival draweth sword upon the Lady Vivien] But Sir\nPercival knew very well what the sorceress Vivien had intended to do to\nhim, and he was filled with a great rage of indignation against her because\nshe had meant to transform him into a stone. Therefore he cried out with a\nloud voice and seized the enchantress by her long golden hair, and drew her\nso violently forward that she fell down upon her knees. Then he drew his\nshining sword with intent to sever her long neck, so slender and white like\nalabaster.\n\nBut the lady shrieked with great vehemence of terror and besought him\nmercy. And at that Sir Percival's heart grew soft for pity, for he\nbethought him that she was a woman and he beheld how smooth and beautiful\nwas her neck, and how her skin was like white satin for smoothness. So when\nhe heard her voice--the voice of a woman beseeching mercy--his heart grew\nsoft, and he could not find strength within him to strike that neck apart\nwith his sword.\n\nSo he bade her to arise--though he still held her by the hair (all warm, it\nwas, and as soft as silk and very fragrant) and the lady stood up,\ntrembling before him.\n\nThen Sir Percival said to her: \"If thou wouldst have thy life I command\nthee to transform back to their own shape all those people whom thou hast\nbewitched as thou wouldst have bewitched me.\"\n\nThen the lady said: \"It shall be done.\" Whereupon she smote her hands very\nviolently together crying out: \"All ye who have lost your proper shapes,\nreturn thereunto.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady Vivien undoes her enchantment] Then, lo! upon the\ninstant, a great multitude of round stones that lay scattered about became\nquick, like to eggs; and they moved and stirred as the life entered into\nthem. And they melted away and, behold! there arose up a great many knights\nand esquires and several ladies to the number of four score and eight in\nall. And certain other stones became quickened in like manner, and as\nPercival looked, lo! there rose up the horses of those people, all\ncaparisoned as though for travel.\n\nNow when those people who had been thus bewitched beheld the Lady Vivien,\nhow Sir Percival held her by the hair of her head, they made great outcry\nagainst her for vengeance, saying: \"Slay her! Slay her!\" And therewith\nseveral made at her as though to do as they said and to slay her. But\nPercival waved his sword before her and said: \"Not so! Not so! For this\nlady is my prisoner and we shall not harm her unless ye come at her through\nme.\"\n\nThereat they fell silent in a little while, and when he had thus stilled\nthem, he turned to the Lady Vivien and said: \"This is my command that I lay\nupon thee: that thou shalt go into the court of King Arthur and shalt\nconfess thyself to him and that thou shalt fulfil whatever penance he may\nlay upon thee to perform because of thy transgressions. Now wilt thou do\nthis for to save thy life?\"\n\nAnd the Lady Vivien made reply: \"All shall be done according to thy\ncommand.\"\n\nTherewith Sir Percival released his hold upon her and she was free.\n\nThen, finding herself to be thus free, she stepped back a pace or two and\nlooked into Sir Percival his face, and she laughed. And she said: \"Thou\nfool, didst thou think that I would do so mad a thing as that which thou\nhast made me promise? For what mercy could I expect at the hands of King\nArthur seeing that it was I who destroyed the Enchanter Merlin, who was the\nright adviser of King Arthur! Go to King Arthur thyself and deliver to him\nthine own messages.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady Vivien escapes] So saying, in an instant, she vanished\nfrom the sight of all those who stood there. And with her vanished that\ncastle of crimson and ultramarine and gold--and nothing was left but the\nbare rocks and the barren plain.\n\nThen when those who were there recovered from their astonishment, upon\nbeholding that great castle so suddenly disappear, they turned to Sir\nPercival and gave him worship and thanks without measure, saying to him:\n\"What shall we do in return for saving us from the enchantment of this\nsorceress?\"\n\nAnd Percival said: \"Ye shall do this: ye shall go to the court of King\nArthur and tell him how that young knight, Percival, whom he made a knight\na year ago, hath liberated you from the enchantment of this sorceress. And\nyou shall seek out Sir Kay and shall say to him that, by and by, I shall\nreturn and repay him in full measure, twenty times over, that blow which he\ngave to the damosel Yelande, the Dumb Maiden because of her kindness to\nme.\"\n\nSo said Sir Percival, and they said: \"It shall be done as thou dost\nordain.\"\n\nThen Sir Percydes said: \"Wilt thou not come to my castle and rest thyself\nthere for the night? For thou must be aweary with all thy toil.\" And Sir\nPercival said, \"I will go with thee.\" So Sir Percydes and Sir Percival rode\naway together to the castle of Sir Percydes.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percydes knoweth the ring that Percival wears] Now while\nSir Percival and Sir Percydes sat at supper in the castle of Sir Percydes,\nSir Percival chanced to lay his hand in love upon the sleeve of Sir\nPercydes's arm, and that moment Sir Percydes saw the ring upon Sir\nPercival's finger which the young damosel of the pavilion had given unto\nhim in exchange for his ring. When Sir Percydes saw that ring he cried out\nin great astonishment, \"Where didst thou get that ring?\"\n\nSir Percival said, \"I will tell thee\"; and therewith he told Sir Percydes\nall that had befallen him when he first came down into the world from the\nwilderness where he had aforetime dwelt, and how he had entered the yellow\npavilion and had discovered the damosel who was now his chosen lady. When\nSir Percydes heard that story he laughed in great measure, and then he\nsaid: \"But how wilt thou find that young damosel again when thou hast a\nmind for to go to her once more?\" To the which Sir Percival made reply: \"I\nknow not how I shall find her, nevertheless, I shall assuredly do so. For\nthough the world is much wider and greater than I had thought it to be when\nI first came down into it, yet I know that I shall find that lady when the\nfit time cometh for me to seek her.\"\n\nThen Sir Percydes said: \"Dear friend, when thou desireth to find that\ndamosel to whom belongeth the ring, come thou to me and I will tell thee\nwhere thou mayst find her; yet I know not why thou dost not go and find her\nnow.\"\n\nUnto this Sir Percival made reply: \"I do not seek her immediately because I\nam yet so young and so unknown to the world that I could not be of any\ncredit to her should I find her; so first I will seek to obtain credit as a\nknight, and then I will seek her.\"\n\nSir Percydes said: \"Well, Percival, I think thou hast great promise of a\nvery wonderful knighthood. Nor do I think thou wilt have difficulty in\nfinding plenty of adventures to undertake. For even to-day I know of an\nadventure, which if thou couldst perform it successfully, would bring thee\nsuch worship that there are very few knights in all the world who will have\nmore worship than thou.\"\n\nThen Sir Percival said: \"I prithee, dear friend, tell me what is that\nadventure.\"\n\nThen Sir Percydes told Sir Percival what that adventure was as followeth:\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percydes telleth Sir Percival of Beaurepaire] \"Thou art to\nknow,\" quoth he, \"that somewhat more than a day's journey to the north of\nthis there is a fair plain, very fertile and beautiful to the sight. In the\nmidst of that plain is a small lake of water, and in that lake is an\nisland, and upon the island is a tall castle of very noble size and\nproportions. That castle is called Beaurepaire, and the lady of that castle\nis thought to be one of the most beautiful damosels in the world. And the\nname of the lady is Lady Blanchefleur.\n\n\"Now there is a very strong and powerful knight hight Sir Clamadius,\notherwise known as the King of the Isles; and he is one of the most famous\nknights in the world. Sir Clamadius hath for a long while loved the Lady\nBlanchefleur with such a passion of love that I do not think that the like\nof that passion is to be found anywhere else in the world. But the Lady\nBlanchefleur hath no love for Sir Clamadius, but ever turneth away from him\nwith a heart altogether cold of liking.\n\n\"But Sir Clamadius is a wonderfully proud and haughty King, wherefore he\ncan ill brook being scorned by any lady. Wherefore he hath now come against\nthe castle of Beaurepaire with an array of knights of his court, and at\npresent layeth siege to that castle aforesaid.\n\n\"Now there is not at that castle any knight of sufficient worship to serve\nas champion thereof, wherefore all they of Beaurepaire stay within the\ncastle walls and Sir Clamadius holds the meadows outside of the castle so\nthat no one enters in or goeth out thereof.\n\n\"If thou couldst liberate the Lady Blanchefleur from the duress which Sir\nClamadius places upon her, I believe thou wouldst have as great credit in\ncourts of chivalry as it is possible to have. For, since Sir Tristram is\ngone, Sir Clamadius is believed by many to be the best knight in the world,\nexcept Sir Launcelot of the Lake; unless it be that Sir Lamorack of Gales\nis a better knight than he.\"\n\nThen Sir Percival said: \"What thou tellest me gives me great pleasure, for\nit would be a very good adventure for any young knight to undertake. For if\nhe should lose there would be no shame in losing, and if he should win\nthere would be great glory in winning. So to-morrow I will enter upon that\nadventure, with intent to discover what fortune I may have therein.\"\n\nSo I have told you how Sir Percival performed his first adventures in the\nworld of chivalry after he had perfected himself in the mysteries of\nknighthood under the teaching of Sir Launcelot of the Lake, and I have told\nyou how he achieved that adventure with great credit to himself and with\ngreat glory to the order of knighthood to which he now truly belonged as a\nmost worthy member.\n\nThat night he abided in the castle of Sir Percydes with great comfort and\nrest to his body, and when the next morning had come he arose, much\nrefreshed and strengthened in spirit. And he descended to the hall where\nwas set a fair and generous breakfast for his further refreshment, and\nthereat he and Sir Percydes sat themselves down and ate with hearty\nappetite, discoursing with great amity of spirit as aforetold.\n\nAfter he had broken his fast he bade farewell to Sir Percydes and mounted\nhis horse and rode away through the bright sunlight toward Beaurepaire and\nthose further adventures that awaited him thereat.\n\nAnd, as it was with Sir Percival in that first adventure, so may you meet\nwith a like success when you ride forth upon your first undertakings after\nyou have entered into the glory of your knighthood, with your life lying\nbefore you and a whole world whereinto ye may freely enter to do your\ndevoirs to the glory of God and your own honor.\n\nSo now it shall be told how it fared with Sir Percival in that adventure of\nthe Castle of Beaurepaire.\n\n[Illustration: The Demoiselle Blanchefleur]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Fourth\n\n\n_How Sir Percival undertook the adventure of the castle of Beaurepaire and\nhow he fared therein after several excellent adventures_.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival breaks his fast at a forest cottage] Now the way\nthat Sir Percival travelled led him by the outskirts of the forest, so that\nsomewhiles he would be in the woodland and somewhiles he would be in the\nopen country. And about noontide he came to a certain cottage of a neatherd\nthat stood all alone in a very pleasant dale. That place a little brook\ncame bickering out from the forest and ran down into the dale and spread\nout into a small lake, besides which daffadowndillys bloomed in such\nabundance that it appeared as though all that meadow land was scattered\nover with an incredible number of yellow stars that had fallen down from\nout of the sky. And, because of the pleasantness of this place, Sir\nPercival here dismounted from his horse and sat him down upon a little\ncouch of moss under the shadow of an oak tree that grew nigh to the\ncottage, there to rest himself for a while with great pleasure. And as he\nsat there there came a barelegged lass from the cottage and brought him\nfresh milk to drink; and there came a good, comely housewife and brought\nhim bread and cheese made of cream; and Sir Percival ate and drank with\ngreat appetite.\n\nNow whilst Sir Percival sat there resting and refreshing himself in that\nwise, there appeared of a sudden coming thitherward, a tall and noble\nknight riding upon a piebald war-horse of Norway strain. So when Sir\nPercival beheld that knight coming in that wise he quickly put on his\nhelmet and mounted his horse and made him ready for defence in case the\nknight had a mind to assail him.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival bespeaketh the strange knight] Meantime that\nknight came riding up with great haughtiness of bearing to where Sir\nPercival was, and when he had come nigh enough he bespake Sir Percival,\nsaying: \"Sir Knight, I pray you to tell me your name and whither you go,\nand upon what quest?\"\n\nUnto this Sir Percival made reply: \"Messire, I do not choose to tell you my\nname, for I am a young knight, very new to adventure, and I know not how I\nshall succeed in that quest which I have undertaken. So I will wait to try\nthe success of that adventure before I tell my name. But though I may not\ntell my name I will tell you whither I go and upon what quest. I go for to\nfind a certain castle called Beaurepaire, and I intend to endeavor to\nliberate the lady of that castle from the duress of a certain knight hight\nSir Clamadius, who, I understand, holds her by siege within the walls\nthereof.\"\n\nNow, when Sir Percival had ceased speaking, the strange knight said: \"Sir,\nthis is a very singular thing: for that adventure of which you speak is the\nvery adventure upon which I myself am bound. Now, as you say, you are a\nvery young knight unused to arms, and as I am in the same degree a knight\nwell seasoned in deeds of arms, it is more fitting that I should undertake\nthis quest than you. For you may know how very well I am used to the\nservice of arms when I tell you that I have had to do in four and twenty\nbattles of various sorts; some of them friendly and some of them otherwise;\nand that I have had to do in more than four times that many affairs-at-arms\nwith single knights, nearly all of them of great prowess. So now it would\nseem fitting that you should withdraw you from this affair and let me first\nessay it. Then, if I fail in my undertaking, you shall assume that\nadventure.\"\n\n\"Messire,\" quoth Sir Percival, \"I see that you are a knight of much greater\nexperience than I; but, ne'ertheless, I cannot find it in my heart to\nforego this adventure. So what I have to propose is this: that you and I do\ncombat here in this place, and that he who proveth himself to be the better\nof us twain shall carry out this undertaking that we are both set upon.\"\n\nUnto this, that strange knight lent a very willing assent, saying: \"Very\nwell, Messire, it shall be as you ask.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival doeth battle with the strange knight] So with that\neach knight turned his horse and rode a little piece away; and each took\nsuch stand as pleased him; and each dressed his spear and shield and made\nhim in all wise ready for the encounter. And when they had so prepared\nthemselves, each knight shouted to his horse, and drave spur into its flank\nand rushed, the one against the other, with such terrible noise and\nviolence that the sound thereof was echoed back from the woods like to a\nstorm of thunder.\n\nSo they met in the midst of the course with such a vehement impact that it\nwas terrible to behold. And in that encounter the spear of each knight was\nburst all into fragments; and the horse of each fell back upon his haunches\nand would have been overthrown had not each knight voided his saddle with a\nvery wonderful skill and agility.\n\nThen each knight drew sword and came the one against the other, as\nfuriously as two rams at battle. So they fought for nigh the space of an\nhour, foining and striking, and tracing hither and tracing thither most\nfuriously; and the noise of the blows they struck might have been heard\nseveral furlongs away.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival overcometh the strange knight] During that battle\nSir Percival received several sore wounds so that by and by a great passion\nof rage seized upon him. So he rushed the battle with might and main, and\ntherewith struck so many furious blows that by and by that other knight\nheld his shield very low for weariness. This Sir Percival perceived, and\ntherewith he smote the other so furious a blow upon the head that the\nknight sank down upon his knees and could not arise. Then Sir Percival ran\nto him and catched him by the neck and flung him down violently upon the\nground, crying out, \"Yield or I slay thee!\"\n\nThen that knight besought mercy in a very weak voice, saying: \"Sir Knight,\nI beseech thee, spare my life!\"\n\nSir Percival said: \"Well, I will spare thee, but tell me, what is thy\nname?\" To this the other said: \"I am Sir Lionel, and I am a knight of King\nArthur's court and of the Round Table.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival giveth aid to Sir Lionel] Now when Sir Percival\nheard this he cried out aloud, for he was very greatly grieved, and he\nsaid: \"Al as, what have I done for to fight against thee in this wise! I am\nSir Percival, whom thine own kinsman, Sir Launcelot of the Lake, hath\ntrained in arms. But indeed, I did never think to use that art which he\ntaught me against one so dear to his heart as thou art, Sir Lionel.\" So\nwith that Sir Percival assisted Sir Lionel to arise to his feet, and Sir\nLionel was so weak from that woeful battle that he could hardly stand.\n\nNow that stream and lake of water above spoken of was near by, so Sir\nPercival brought Sir Lionel thither, holding him up as he walked; and there\nSir Lionel refreshed himself. Then, when he was revived a little, he turned\nhis eyes very languidly upon Sir Percival, and he said: \"Percival, thou\nhast done to me this day what few knights have ever done before. So all the\nglory that ever I have won is now thy glory because of this battle. For\nthou hast overcome me in a fair quarrel and I have yielded myself unto\nthee, wherefore it is now thy right to command me to thy will.\"\n\nThen Percival said: \"Alas, dear Sir Knight! It is not meet that I should\nlay command upon such as thou art. But, if thou wilt do so, I beseech thee\nwhen thou art come to King Arthur's court that thou wilt tell the King that\nI, who am his young knight Percival, have borne myself not unbecomingly in\nmy battle with thee. For this is the first battle, knight against knight,\nthat I have undertaken in all of my life. And I beseech thee that thou wilt\ngreet Sir Kay the Seneschal, from me, and that thou wilt say to him that by\nand by I shall meet him and repay him that buffet which he gave to the\ndamsel Yelande, the Dumb Maiden, in the Queen's pavilion.\"\n\nSir Lionel said: \"It shall be as thou sayst, and I will do thy bidding.\nBut, touching Sir Kay, I do not believe that he will take very much joy at\nthy message to him. For he will find small pleasure in the thought of the\npayment of that buffet that thou hast promised to give him.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival goeth forward upon his adventure] Now, as the day\nby this time was waxing late, Sir Percival abided that night at that\nneatherd's hut nigh to which this battle had been fought and there had his\nwounds bathed and dressed; and when the next morning had come he arose\nearly, and saddled his horse, and rode forward upon his way. And as he rode\nhe was very well pleased at the thought of that battle he had fought with\nSir Lionel, for he wist that he had obtained great credit to himself in\nthat encounter, and he was aware, now that he had made trial of his\nstrength against such a one as Sir Lionel, he must be one of the greatest\nknights of the world. So his heart was uplifted with great joy and delight\nat that thought; that he was now a well-approved knight-champion, worthy of\nhis knighthood. Therefore he rode away for all that day, greatly rejoicing\nin spirit at the thought of what he had done the day before.\n\nAbout the first slant of the afternoon Sir Percival came at last out of the\nwoodlands and into a wide-open plain, very fertile and well tilled, with\nfields of wheat and rye abounding on all sides. And he saw that in the\nmidst of that plain there was a considerable lake, and that in the midst of\nthat lake there was an island, and that upon the island there stood a fair\nnoble castle, and he wist that that castle must be the castle of\nBeaurepaire. So he rode down into that valley with some speed.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival perceives a red knight] Now after he had so ridden\nfor a while, he was aware of a knight, very haughty of appearance and\nbearing, who rode before him upon the same way that he was going. And that\nknight was clad all in red armor, and he rode upon a horse so black that I\nbelieve there was not a single white hair upon him. And all the trappings\nand the furniture of that horse were of red, so that he presented a very\nnoble appearance. So Sir Percival made haste to overtake that knight, and\nwhen he had come nigh he drew rein at a little distance. Thereupon that\nknight in red bespake Sir Percival very proudly, saying: \"Sir Knight,\nwhither ride you, and upon what mission?\"\n\n\"Messire,\" quoth Percival, \"I ride toward yonder castle, which I take to be\nthe castle of Beaurepaire, and I come hither with intent to succor the Lady\nBlanchefleur of that castle from a knight, hight Sir Clamadius, who keeps\nher there a prisoner against her will, so that it behooves any good knight\nto attempt her rescue.\"\n\nUpon this the red knight spake very fiercely, saying: \"Messire, what\nbusiness is that of yours? I would have you know that I am a knight of King\nClamadius', wherefore I am able to say to you that you shall go no further\nupon that quest. For I am Sir Engeneron of Grandregarde, and I am Seneschal\nunto King Clamadius, and I will not have it that thou shalt go any farther\nupon this way unless you ride over me to go upon it.\"\n\n\"Messire,\" quoth Sir Percival, \"I have no quarrel with you, but if you have\na mind to force a quarrel upon me, I will not seek to withdraw myself from\nan encounter with you. So make yourself ready, and I will make myself\nready, and then we shall soon see whether or not I am to pass upon this\nway.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival doeth battle with Sir Engeneron] So therewith each\nknight turned his horse away to such a place as seemed to him to be\nfitting; and when they were in all wise prepared they rushed together with\nan amazing velocity and a noise like to thunder. So they met in the midst\nof the course. And in that encounter the spear of Sir Engeneron broke into\nmany pieces, but the spear of Sir Percival held, so that he flung Sir\nEngeneron entirely out of his saddle and over the crupper of his horse and\ndown upon the ground so violently that Sir Engeneron lay there in a swoon.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Engeneron yields himself to Sir Percival] Then Sir Percival\ndismounted from his horse with all speed, and he rushed the helmet of Sir\nEngeneron off of his head with intent to slay him. But with that Sir\nEngeneron awoke to his danger, and therewith gat upon his knees and clasped\nSir Percival about the thighs, crying out: \"Sir, I beseech you upon your\nknighthood to spare my life.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Percival, \"since you beseech that upon my knighthood I\nmust needs do as you ask. But I will only do so upon two conditions. The\nfirst of these conditions is that you go to the court of King Arthur, and\nthat you surrender yourself as captive to a damsel of that court who is\nknown as the Lady Yelande the Dumb Maiden. And you are to tell that maiden\nthat the young knight who slew Sir Boindegardus greets her and that he\ntells her that in a little while he will return to repay to Sir Kay that\nbuffet he gave her. This is my first condition.\" And Sir Engeneron said: \"I\nwill perform that condition.\"\n\n\"And my second condition,\" said Sir Percival, \"is this: that you give me\nyour armor for me to use upon this adventure which I have undertaken, and\nthat you take my armor and deposit it with the hermit of a little chapel\nyou shall after a while come to if you return upon the road which brought\nme hither. After a while I will return and reclaim my armor and will return\nyour armor. This is my second condition.\"\n\nAnd Sir Engeneron said: \"That condition also I shall fulfil according to\nyour command.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival and Sir Engeneron exchange armor] Then Sir\nPercival said: \"Arise.\" And Sir Engeneron did so. And after that Sir\nEngeneron put off his armor, and Sir Percival put off his armor. And Sir\nPercival put on the armor of Sir Engeneron, and Sir Engeneron packed the\narmor of Sir Percival upon his horse and prepared to depart in obedience to\nthose conditions of Sir Percival. So they parted company, Sir Percival\nriding upon his way to Beaurepaire, and Sir Engeneron betaking his way to\nfind the chapel of that hermit of whom Sir Percival had spoken.\n\nSo it was that after two adventures, Sir Percival entered upon that\nundertaking which he had come to perform in behalf of the Lady\nBlanchefleur.\n\nAnd now, if it please you to read what follows, you shall hear how it\nbefell with Sir Percival at the castle of Beaurepaire.\n\nAfter that adventure with Sir Engeneron, Sir Percival rode onward upon his\nway, and by and by he came to the lake whereon stood the castle and the\ntown of Beaurepaire. And Sir Percival beheld that a long narrow bridge\ncrossed over that part of the lake from the mainland to the island and the\ntown. So Sir Percival rode very boldly forth upon that bridge and across\nit, and no one stayed him, for all of the knights of Sir Clamadius who\nbeheld him said: \"Yonder rides Sir Engeneron.\" Thus Sir Percival crossed\nthe bridge and rode very boldly forward until he came to the gate of the\ncastle, and those who beheld him said: \"Sir Engeneron haply beareth a\nmessage to the castle.\" For no one wist that that knight was not Sir\nEngeneron, but all thought that it was he because of the armor which he\nwore.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival cometh to Beaurepaire] So Sir Percival came close\nto the castle, and when he was come there he called very loudly to those\nwithin, and by and by there appeared the face of a woman at an upper window\nand the face was very pale and woe-begone.\n\nThen Sir Percival said to the woman at the window: \"Bid them open the gate\nand let me in; for I come to bring you succor at this place.\"\n\nTo this the woman said: \"I shall not bid them open the gate, for I know\nfrom your armor who you are, and that you are Sir Engeneron the Seneschal.\nAnd I know that you are one of our bitterest enemies; for you have already\nslain several of the knights of this castle, and now you seek by guile to\nenter into the castle itself.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival entereth Beaurepaire] Then Sir Percival said: \"I\nam not Sir Engeneron, but one who hath overthrown Sir Engeneron in battle.\nI have put on his armor with intent that I might come hither to help defend\nthis place against Sir Clamadius.\" So said Sir Percival, and therewith he\nput up the umbril of his helmet, saying: \"Look, see; I am not Sir\nEngeneron.\" Then the woman at the window saw his face and that it was not\nthe face of Sir Engeneron. And she saw that the face of Sir Percival was\nmild and gentle, wherefore she ran and told the people of the castle that a\nknight who was a friend stood without. Therewith they of the castle let\nfall the drawbridge and opened the gates, and Sir Percival entered into the\ncastle.\n\nThen there came several of the chief people of the castle, and they also\nwere all pale and woe-begone from long fasting, as was the woman whom Sir\nPercival had first seen; for all were greatly wasted because of the toil\nand anxiety of that siege. These asked Sir Percival who he was and whence\nhe came and how he came thither; and Sir Percival told them all that it was\nnecessary for them to know. For he told them how he was a young knight\ntrained under the care of Sir Launcelot; and he told them that he had come\nthither with the hope of serving the Lady Blanchefleur; and he told them\nwhat adventures had befallen him in the coming and how he had already\noverthrown Sir Lionel and Sir Engeneron to get there. Wherefore, from these\nthings, they of the castle perceived that Sir Percival was a very strong,\nworthy knight, and they gave great joy that he should have come thither to\ntheir aid.\n\nSo he who was chief of those castle people summoned several attendants, and\nthese came and some took the horse of Sir Percival and led it to the\nstables, and others relieved Sir Percival of his armor; and others took him\nto a bath of tepid water, where he bathed himself, and was dried on soft\nlinen towels; and others brought soft garments of gray cloth and clad Sir\nPercival in them and afterward brought him down into a fair large chamber\nwhere there was a table spread as though ready for meat.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival beholds the Lady Blanchefleur] Now in a little\nafter Sir Percival was come to that supper-hall the door thereof was opened\nand there entered several people. With these came a damsel of such\nextraordinary beauty and gracefulness of figure that Sir Percival stood\namazed. For her face was fair beyond words; red upon white, like\nrose-leaves upon cream; and her eyes were bright and glancing like those of\na falcon, and her nose was thin and straight, and her lips were very red,\nlike to coral for redness, and her hair was dark and abundant and like to\nsilk for softness. She was clad all in a dress of black, shot with stars of\ngold, and the dress was lined with ermine and was trimmed with sable at the\ncollar and the cuffs and the hem thereof.\n\nSo Sir Percival stood and gazed at that lady with a pleasure beyond words\nto express, and he wist that this must be the Lady Blanchefleur, for whose\nsake he had come thither.\n\nAnd the Lady Blanchefleur looked upon Sir Percival with great kindness, for\nhe appeared to her like to a hero for strength and beauty; wherefore she\nsmiled upon Sir Percival very graciously and came forward and gave him her\nhand. And Sir Percival took her hand and set it to his lips; and lo! her\nhand was as soft as silk and very warm, rosy and fragrant, and the fingers\nthereof glistered with bright golden rings and with gems of divers colors.\n\nThen that beautiful Lady Blanchefleur said: \"Messire, this is a very\nknightly thing for you to do to come hither to this place. And you come in\ngood time, for food groweth very scarce with us so that in a little while\nwe must face starvation. For because of the watch that Sir Clamadius\nkeepeth upon this place, no one can either enter in or go out. Yea, thou\nart the very first one who hath come hither since he has sat down before\nBeaurepaire.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady Blanchefleur telleth her sorrows to Sir Percival] Then\npresently she ceased smiling and her face clouded over; then bright tears\nbegan to drop from the Lady Blanchefleur's eyes; and then she said: \"I fear\nme greatly that Sir Clamadius will at last seize upon this castle, for he\nhath kept us here prisoner for a long while. Yet though he seize the\ncastle, he shall never seize that which the castle contains. For I keep by\nme a little casket of silver, and therein is a dagger, very sharp and fine.\nTherefore the day that Sir Clamadius enters into this castle, I shall\nthrust that dagger into my heart. For, though Sir Clamadius may seize upon\nmy castle, he shall never possess my soul.\"\n\nThen Sir Percival was very sorry for the tears he saw shining upon the Lady\nBlanchefleur's face, wherefore he said: \"Lady, I have great hopes that this\naffair may never reach to that woful extremity thou speakest of.\" The Lady\nBlanchefleur said: \"I hope not also.\" And therewith she wiped away her\ntears and smiled again. Then she said: \"See, Sir Percival, the evening has\ncome and it is time to sit at supper, now I beseech thee for to come to\ntable with me, for though we have but little to eat here, yet I assure thee\nthat thou art very welcome to the best that we have.\"\n\nSo therewith Lady Blanchefleur led Sir Percival to the table, and they sat\ndown to such feast as could be had at that place of starvation. For what\nthey had was little enough, being only such fish as they could catch from\nthe lake, and a little bread--but not much--and a very little wine.\n\n[Sidenote: The Lady sings to Sir Percival] Then after they had eaten and\ndrunk what they had, the Lady Blanchefleur took a golden harp into her hand\nand played thereon, and sang in a voice so clear and high and beautiful\nthat Percival was altogether enchanted and bewitched thereat.\n\nThus it was that that evening passed with them very pleasantly and\ncheerfully, so that it was the middle of the night ere Sir Percival\nwithdrew to that couch that had been prepared for his rest.\n\nNow word was brought to Sir Clamadius that Sir Engeneron the Seneschal had\nbeen overcome by another knight, wherefore Sir Clamadius wist that that was\nthe knight in Sir Engeneron's armor who had entered into the castle. So Sir\nClamadius said: \"Certes, this must be a champion of no small prowess who\nhath undertaken single-handed such a dangerous quest as this, and hath thus\nentered into the castle, for they appear to make great rejoicings at his\ncoming. Now if he remaineth there it may very well be that they will be\nencouraged to resist me a great while longer, and so all that I have thus\nfar accomplished shall have been in vain.\"\n\n[Sidenote: The old counsellor giveth advice to Sir Clamadius] Now there\nwas among the counsellors of Sir Clamadius an old knight who was very\ncunning and far-sighted. He said to the King: \"Sire, I think we may be able\nto devise some plan whereby we may withdraw this knight-champion out of the\ncastle. My plan is this: Let ten of your best knights make parade before\nthat castle tomorrow, and let them give challenge to those within the\ncastle to come forth to battle. Then I believe that this knight will come\nforth with the other knights from the castle to accept that challenge.\nThereafter let it be that our knights withdraw as though in retreat, and so\nlead this knight and the knights of the castle into an ambushment. There\nlet many fall upon them at once and either slay them or make them\nprisoners. So the castle shall be deprived of this new champion that hath\ncome to it, and therewith may be so disheartened that it will yield to\nthee.\"\n\nThis advice seemed very good to King Clamadius, wherefore, when the next\nmorning had come, he chose him ten knights from among the foremost of all\nhis knights, and he bade them give that challenge in that wise. These did\nso, and therewith Sir Percival and nine other knights issued out from the\ncastle against them.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival doeth great battle] But it did not fare as Sir\nClamadius had expected; for the attack of Sir Percival and his knights was\nso fierce and sudden that those ten knights could not withdraw so easily as\nthey intended. For, ere they were able to withdraw, Sir Percival had struck\ndown six of these knights with his own hand and the other four were made\nprisoners.\n\nThus Sir Percival and his knights did not come into that ambush that had\nbeen prepared for them.\n\nThen those who were in ambush perceived that their plan had failed\nwherefore they broke from cover with intent to do what they could. But Sir\nPercival and his knights beheld them coming, and so withdrew, defending\nthemselves with great valor. So they came into the castle again in safety.\n\nThus it was that the plans of King Clamadius and his counsellor failed of\neffect, whereupon Sir Clamadius was very angry at that wise old knight. So\nthat, when that counsellor came to him again and said: \"Sir, I have another\nplan,\" King Clamadius cried out very fiercely: \"Away with thy plans! They\nare all of no avail.\" Then Sir Clamadius said: \"When to-morrow comes, I\nmyself will undertake this affair. For I will go and give challenge to this\nknight, and so I shall hope to decide this quarrel man to man. For unless\nyonder knight be Sir Launcelot of the Lake or Sir Lamorack of Gales, I do\nnot think he will be my peer in an encounter of man to man.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Clamadius arms himself for battle] So when the next morning\nhad come, Sir Clamadius armed himself at all points and straightway betook\nhimself to a fair, smooth meadow beneath the walls of the castle. And when\nhe had come there he cried out: \"Sir Red Knight, come forth and speak with\nme.\"\n\nSo after a while Sir Percival appeared at the top of the castle wall, and\nhe said: \"Messire, here I am; what is it you would have of me?\"\n\nThen Sir Clamadius said: \"Messire, are you Sir Launcelot of the Lake?\" And\nSir Percival said: \"Nay, I am not he.\" Sir Clamadius said: \"Art thou then\nSir Lamorack of Gales?\" And Sir Percival said: \"Nay, I am not he.\" Then Sir\nClamadius said: \"Who, then, art thou?\" Sir Percival said: \"I am not any\ngreat knight-champion such as those two of whom you speak, but am a young\nknight who have not fought more than twice or thrice in my life.\"\n\nAt that Sir Clamadius was very glad, for he feared that Sir Percival might\nbe some famous knight well-seasoned in arms. Wherefore when he found that\nSir Percival was only a young and untried knight, he thought it would be an\neasy matter to deal with him. So he said: \"Messire, I challenge thee to\ncome forth to battle with me man to man so that thou and I may settle this\nquarrel betwixt us, for it is a pity to shed more blood than is necessary\nin this quarrel. So if thou wilt come forth and overthrow me, then I will\nwithdraw my people from this place; but if I overthrow thee, then this\ncastle shall be yielded up to me with all that it contains.\"\n\nTo this Sir Percival said: \"Sir Knight, I am very willing to fight with\nthee upon that issue. But first of all I must obtain the consent of the\nLady Blanchefleur to stand her champion.\"\n\nSo Sir Percival went to the Lady Blanchefleur, and he said: \"Lady, will you\naccept me as your champion to fight the issue of this quarrel man to man\nwith Sir Clamadius?\"\n\nShe said: \"Percival, thou art very young to have to do with so old and\nwell-seasoned a knight. Now I greatly fear for your life in such a battle\nas that.\"\n\nTo this Sir Percival said: \"Lady, I know that I am young, but indeed I feel\na very big spirit stir within me, so that if thou wilt trust me, I have\nbelief that, with the grace of God, I shall win this battle.\"\n\nThen the Lady Blanchefleur smiled upon Sir Percival and she said:\n\"Percival, I will gladly entrust my life and safety into thy keeping, for I\ntoo have great dependence in thy knighthood.\"\n\nSo straightway Sir Percival armed himself, and when he was in all wise\nprepared he went forth to that battle with a heart very full of great\ncourage and hope.\n\nThere he found Sir Clamadius still parading in that meadow beneath the\nwalls, awaiting the coming of his opponent.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival and Sir Clamadius do battle] Meanwhile many folk\ncame and stood upon the walls of the castle to behold that encounter,\nwhilst each knight took such stand as appeared good to him. Then, when they\nwere in all wise prepared, each knight drave spurs into his horse and\nrushed himself against the other with most terrible and fierce violence.\nTherewith they met in the very midst of the course with an uproar like to\nthunder that echoed back from the flat walls of the castle.\n\nIn that encounter the spear of Sir Percival held, but the spear of Sir\nClamadius was riven into splinters. And so, Sir Percival riding forward\nwith furious violence, Sir Clamadius was overthrown, horse and man, with\nsuch violence that he lay there upon the ground as though he were dead.\n\nThen all those upon the walls shouted aloud with a great noise of\nrejoicing, whilst those of the party of Sir Clamadius gave lamentation in\nthe same degree.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Clamadius yields himself] But Sir Percival voided his\nsaddle in haste, and ran to where Sir Clamadius lay. And Sir Percival\nrushed the helmet off from the head of Sir Clamadius, and he catched him by\nthe hair of the head, and he raised his sword on high with intent to finish\nthe work he had begun. Therewith Sir Clamadius aroused himself unto his\ndanger, and he cried in a very piercing voice: \"Messire, I beseech thee of\nthy knighthood to spare my life!\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Percival, \"since you ask me upon my knighthood, I cannot\nrefuse you, for so I was taught by the noble knight, Sir Launcelot, to\nrefuse no boon asked upon my knighthood that I was able to grant. But I\nwill only spare your life upon one condition, and that is this: That you\ndisarm yourself in all wise, and that you go without armor to the court of\nKing Arthur. There you shall deliver yourself as a servant unto a damsel of\nKing Arthur's court, hight Yelande, surnamed the Dumb Maiden. Her you are\nto tell that the youth who slew Sir Boindegardus hath sent you unto her as\na servant. And you are to say to Sir Kay, the Seneschal of King Arthur,\nthat the young knight Percival will in a little while come to repay that\nbuffet he gave to the damoiselle Yelande aforesaid.\"\n\nSo said Sir Percival, and Sir Clamadius said: \"It shall be done in all wise\nas you command, if so be you will spare my life.\" Then Sir Percival said:\n\"Arise\"; and Sir Clamadius arose; and Sir Percival said: \"Go hence\"; and\ntherewith Sir Clamadius departed as Sir Percival commanded.\n\nSo that day Sir Clamadius withdrew from the castle of Beaurepaire with all\nhis array of knights, and after that he went to the court of King Arthur\nand did in all respects as Sir Percival had commanded him to do.\n\nSo it was that Sir Percival fulfilled that quest, and set the Lady\nBlanchefleur free from duress; and may God grant that you also fulfil all\nyour quests with as great honor and nobility as therein exhibited.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Kay interrupts ye meditations of Sir Percival]\n\n\n\n\nChapter Fifth\n\n\n_How Sir Percival repaid Sir Kay the buffet he one time gave Yelande the\nDumb Maiden, and how, thereafter, he went forth to seek his own lady of\nlove._\n\nNow, after these adventures aforesaid, Sir Percival remained for a long\nwhile at Beaurepaire, and during that time he was the knight-champion to\nthe Lady Blanchefleur. And the Lady Blanchefleur loved Sir Percival every\nday with a greater and greater passion, but Sir Percival showed no passion\nof love for her in return, and thereat Lady Blanchefleur was greatly\ntroubled.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival and the Lady Blanchefleur walk together] Now one\nday the Lady Blanchefleur and Sir Percival were walking together on a\nterrace; and it was then come to be the fall of the year, so that the\nleaves of the trees were showering all down about them like flakes of gold.\nAnd that day the Lady Blanchefleur loved Sir Percival so much that her\nheart was pierced with that love as though with a great agony. But Sir\nPercival wist not of that.\n\nThen the Lady Blanchefleur said: \"Messire, I would that thou wouldst stay\nhere always as our knight-champion.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" quoth Percival, \"that may not be, for in a little while now I must\nleave you. For, though I shall be sad to go from such a friendly place as\nthis is, yet I am an errant knight, and as I am errant I must fulfil many\nadventures besides the one I have accomplished here.\"\n\n\"Messire,\" said the Lady Blanchefleur, \"if you will but remain here, this\ncastle shall be yours and all that it contains.\"\n\nAt this Sir Percival was greatly astonished, wherefore he said: \"Lady, how\nmay that be? Lo! this castle is yours, and no one can take it away from\nyou, nor can you give it to me for mine own.\"\n\nThen the Lady Blanchefleur turned away her face and bowed her head, and\nsaid in a voice as though it were stifling her for to speak: \"Percival, it\nneeds not to take the castle from me; take thou me for thine own, and then\nthe castle and all shall be thine.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival denies the Lady Blanchefleur] At that Sir Percival\nstood for a space very still as though without breathing. Then by and by he\nsaid: \"Lady, meseems that no knight could have greater honor paid to him\nthan that which you pay to me. Yet should I accept such a gift as you\noffer, then I would be doing such dishonor to my knighthood that would make\nit altogether unworthy of that high honor you pay it. For already I have\nmade my vow to serve a lady, and if I should forswear that vow, I would be\na dishonored and unworthy knight.\"\n\nThen the Lady Blanchefleur cried out in a great voice of suffering: \"Say no\nmore, for I am ashamed.\"\n\nSir Percival said: \"Nay, there is no shame to thee, but great honor to me.\"\nBut the Lady Blanchefleur would not hear him, but brake away from him in\ngreat haste, and left him standing where he was.\n\nSo Sir Percival could stay no longer at that place; but as soon as might\nbe, he took horse and rode away. Nor did he see Blanchefleur again after\nthey had thus talked together upon that terrace as aforesaid.\n\nAnd after Sir Percival had gone, the Lady Blanchefleur abandoned herself to\ngreat sorrow, for she wept a long while and a very great deal; nor would\nshe, for a long while, take any joy in living or in the world in which she\nlived.\n\n[Sidenote: Of the further adventures of Sir Percival] So Sir Percival\nperformed that adventure of setting free the duress of the castle of\nBeaurepaire. And after that and ere the winter came, he performed several\nother adventures of more or less fame. And during that time, he overthrew\neleven knights in various affairs at arms and in all those adventures he\nmet with no mishap himself. And besides such encounters at arms, he\nperformed several very worthy works; for he slew a wild boar that was a\nterror to all that dwelt nigh to the forest of Umber; and he also slew a\nvery savage wolf that infested the moors of the Dart. Wherefore, because of\nthese several adventures, the name of Sir Percival became very famous in\nall courts of chivalry, and many said: \"Verily, this young knight must be\nthe peer of Sir Launcelot of the Lake himself.\"\n\nNow one day toward eventide (and it was a very cold winter day) Sir\nPercival came to the hut of a hermit in the forest of Usk; and he abode all\nnight at that place.\n\nNow when the morning had come he went out and stood in front of the hut,\nand he saw that during the night a soft snow had fallen so that all the\nearth was covered with white. And he saw that it likewise had happened that\na hawk had struck a raven in front of the hermit's habitation, and that\nsome of the raven's feathers and some of its blood lay upon the snow.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival stands in meditation] Now when Sir Percival beheld\nthe blood and the black feathers upon that white snow, he said to himself:\n\"Behold! that snow is not whiter than the brow and the neck of my lady; and\nthat red is not redder than her lips; and that black is not blacker than\nher hair.\" Therewith the thought of that lady took great hold upon him and\nhe sighed so deeply that he felt his heart lifted within him because of\nthat sigh. So he stood and gazed upon that white and red and black, and he\nforgot all things else in the world than his lady-love.\n\nNow it befell at that time that there came a party riding through those\nparts, and that party were Sir Gawaine and Sir Geraint and Sir Kay. And\nwhen they saw Sir Percival where he stood leaning against a tree and\nlooking down upon the ground in deep meditation, Sir Kay said: \"Who is\nyonder knight?\" (For he wist not that that knight was Sir Percival.) And\nSir Kay said further: \"I will go and bespeak that knight and ask him who he\nis.\"\n\nBut Sir Gawaine perceived that Sir Percival was altogether sunk in deep\nthought, wherefore he said: \"Nay, thou wilt do ill to disturb that knight;\nfor either he hath some weighty matter upon his mind, or else he is\nbethinking him of his lady, and in either case it would be a pity to\ndisturb him until he arouses himself.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Kay shakes the arm of Sir Percival] But Sir Kay would not\nheed what Sir Gawaine said, but forthwith he went to where Sir Percival\nstood; and Sir Percival was altogether unaware of his coming, being so\ndeeply sunk in his thoughts. Then Sir Kay said: \"Sir Knight,\"--but Sir\nPercival did not hear him. And Sir Kay said: \"Sir Knight, who art thou?\"\nBut still Sir Percival did not reply. Then Sir Kay said: \"Sir Knight, thou\nshalt answer me!\" And therewith he catched Sir Percival by the arm and\nshook him very roughly.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival smites Sir Kay a buffet] Then Sir Percival aroused\nhimself, and he was filled with indignation that anyone should have laid\nrough hands upon his person. And Sir Percival did not recognize Sir Kay\nbecause he was still entangled in that network of thought, but he said very\nfiercely: \"Ha, sirrah! wouldst thou lay hands upon me!\" and therewith he\nraised his fist and smote Sir Kay so terrible a buffet beside the head that\nSir Kay instantly fell down as though he were dead and lay without sense of\nmotion upon the ground. Then Sir Percival perceived that there were two\nother knights standing not far off, and therewith his thoughts of other\nthings came back to him again and he was aware of what he had done in his\nanger, and was very sorry and ashamed that he should have been so hasty as\nto have struck that blow.\n\nThen Sir Gawaine came to Sir Percival and spake sternly to him saying. \"Sir\nKnight, why didst thou strike my companion so unknightly a blow as that?\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Gawaine chides Sir Percival] To which Sir Percival said:\n\"Messire, it grieves me sorely that I should have been so hasty, but I was\nbethinking me of my lady, and this knight disturbed my thoughts; wherefore\nI smote him in haste.\"\n\nTo this Sir Gawaine made reply: \"Sir, I perceive that thou hadst great\nexcuse for thy blow. Ne'theless, I am displeased that thou shouldst have\nstruck that knight. Now I make demand of thee what is thy name and\ncondition?\"\n\nAnd Sir Percival said: \"My name is Percival, and I am a knight of King\nArthur's making.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Gawaine and Sir Geraint rejoice over Sir Percival] At that,\nwhen Sir Gawaine and Sir Geraint heard what Sir Percival said, they cried\nout in great amazement; and Sir Gawaine said: \"Ha, Sir Percival! this is\nindeed well met, for my name is Gawaine and I am a nephew unto King Arthur\nand am of his court; and this knight is Sir Geraint, and he also is of King\nArthur's court and of his Round Table. And we have been in search of thee\nfor this long time for to bring thee unto King Arthur at Camelot. For thy\nrenown is now spread all over this realm, so that they talk of thee in\nevery court of chivalry.\"\n\nAnd Sir Percival said: \"That is good news to me, for I wist not that I had\nso soon won so much credit. But, touching the matter of returning unto King\nArthur's court with you; unto that I crave leave to give my excuses. For,\nsince you tell me that I now have so much credit of knighthood, it behooves\nme to go immediately unto my lady and to offer my services unto her. For\nwhen I parted from her I promised her that I would come to her as soon as I\nhad won me sufficient credit of knighthood. As for this knight whom I have\nstruck, I cannot be sorry for that buffet, even if it was given with my\nfist and not with my sword as I should have given it. For I have promised\nSir Kay by several mouths that I would sometime repay him with just such a\nbuffet as that which he struck the damosel Yelande. So now I have fulfilled\nmy promise and have given him that buffet.\"\n\nThen Sir Gawaine and Sir Geraint laughed, and Sir Gawaine said: \"Well, Sir\nPercival, thou hast indeed fulfilled thy promise in very good measure. For\nI make my vow that no one could have been better served with his dessert\nthan was Sir Kay.\"\n\nNow by this time Sir Kay had recovered from that blow, so that he rose up\nvery ruefully, looking about as though he wist not yet just where he was.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival will not return to court] Then Sir Gawaine said to\nSir Percival: \"As to thy coming unto the court of the King, thou dost right\nto fulfil thy promise unto thy lady before undertaking any other\nobligation. For, even though the King himself bid thee come, yet is thy\nobligation to thy lady superior to the command of the King. So now I bid\nthee go in quest of thy lady in God's name; only see to it that thou comest\nto the King's court as soon as thou art able.\"\n\nSo it was that Sir Percival fulfilled the promise of that buffet unto Sir\nKay.\n\nAnd now you shall hear how he found the Lady Yvette the Fair.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival cometh to the castle of Sir Percydes] Now after\nSir Percival had parted from Sir Gawaine, and Sir Geraint and Sir Kay, he\nwent his way in that direction he wist, and by and by, toward eventide, he\ncame again to the castle of Sir Percydes. And Sir Percydes was at home and\nhe welcomed Sir Percival with great joy and congratulations. For the fame\nof Sir Percival was now abroad in all the world, so that Sir Percydes\nwelcomed him with great acclaim.\n\nSo Sir Percival sat down with Sir Percydes and they ate and drank together,\nand, for the time, Sir Percival said nothing of that which was upon his\nheart--for he was of a very continent nature and was in no wise hasty in\nhis speech.\n\nBut after they had satisfied themselves with food and drink, then Sir\nPercival spake to Sir Percydes of that which was upon his mind, saying:\n\"Dear friend, thou didst tell me that when I was ready for to come to thee\nwith a certain intent thou wouldst tell me who is the lady whose ring I\nwear and where I shall find her. Now, I believe that I am a great deal more\nworthy for to be her knight than I was when I first saw thee; wherefore I\nam now come to beseech thee to redeem thy promise to me. Now tell me, I beg\nof thee, who is that lady and where does she dwell?\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percydes declares himself to Sir Percival] Then Sir\nPercydes said: \"Friend, I will declare to thee that which thou dost ask of\nme. Firstly, that lady is mine own sister, hight Yvette, and she is the\ndaughter of King Pecheur. Secondly, thou shalt find her at the castle of my\nfather, which standeth upon the west coast of this land. Nor shalt thou\nhave any difficulty in finding that castle, for thou mayst easily come to\nit by inquiring the way of those whom thou mayst meet in that region. But,\nindeed, it hath been two years since I have seen my father and my sister,\nand I know not how it is with them.\"\n\nThen Sir Percival came to Sir Percydes and he put his arm about him and\nkissed him upon either cheek, and he said: \"Should I obtain the kind regard\nof that lady, I know nothing that would more rejoice me than to know that\nthou art her brother. For, indeed, I entertain a great deal of love for\nthee.\"\n\nAt that Sir Percydes laughed for joy and he said: \"Percival, wilt thou not\ntell me of what house thou art come?\" Percival said: \"I will tell thee what\nthou dost ask: my father is King Pellinore who was a very good, noble\nknight of the court of King Arthur and of his Round Table.\"\n\nThen Sir Percydes cried out with great amazement, saying: \"That is very\nmarvellous! I would that I had known this before, for thy mother and my\nmother were sisters of one father and one mother. So we are cousins\ngerman.\"\n\nThen Sir Percival said: \"This is great joy to me!\" And his heart was\nexpanded with pleasure at finding that Sir Percydes was of his kindred and\nthat he was no longer alone in that part of the world.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival departs for the castle of King Pecheur] So Sir\nPercival abided for two days with Sir Percydes and then he betook his way\nto the westward in pursuance of that adventure. And he was upon the road\nthree days, and upon the morning of the fourth day he came, through\ndiligent inquiry, within sight of the castle of King Pecheur. This castle\nstood upon a high crag of rock from which it arose against the sky so that\nit looked to be a part of the crag. And it was a very noble and stately\ncastle, having many tall towers and many buildings within the walls\nthereof. And a village of white houses of the fisher-folk gathered upon the\nrocks beneath the castle walls like chicks beneath the shadow of their\nmother's wings.\n\nAnd, behold! Percival saw the great sea for the first time in all his life,\nand was filled with wonder at the huge waves that ran toward the shore and\nburst upon the rocks, all white like snow. And he was amazed at the\nmultitude of sea fowl that flew about the rocks in such prodigious numbers\nthat they darkened the sky. Likewise he was astonished at the fisher-boats\nthat spread their white sails against the wind, and floated upon the water\nlike swans, for he had never seen their like before. So he sat his horse\nupon a high rock nigh to the sea and gazed his fill upon those things that\nwere so wonderful to him.\n\nThen after a while Sir Percival went forward to the castle. And as he drew\nnigh to the castle he became aware that a very reverend man, whose hair and\nbeard were as white as snow, sat upon a cushion of crimson velvet upon a\nrock that overlooked the sea. Two pages, richly clad in black and silver,\nstood behind him; and the old man gazed out across the sea, and Sir\nPercival saw that he neither spake nor moved. But when Sir Percival came\nnear to him the old man arose and went into the castle, and the two pages\ntook up the two crimson velvet cushions and followed him.\n\nBut Percival rode up to the castle, and he saw that the gateway of the\ncastle stood open, wherefore he rode into the courtyard of the castle. And\nwhen he had come into the courtyard, two attendants immediately appeared\nand took his horse and assisted him to dismount; but neither of these\nattendants said aught to him, but both were as silent as deaf-mutes.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival finds King Pecheur] Then Percival entered the hall\nand there he saw the old man whom he had before seen, and the old man sat\nin a great carved chair beside a fire of large logs of wood. And Sir\nPercival saw that the eyes of the old man were all red and that his cheeks\nwere channeled with weeping; and Percival was abashed at the sadness of his\naspect. Nevertheless, he came to where the old man sat and saluted him with\ngreat reverence, and he said: \"Art thou King Pecheur?\" And the old man\nanswered, \"Aye, for I am both a fisher and a sinner\" (for that word Pecheur\nmeaneth both fisher and sinner).\n\nThen Sir Percival said: \"Sire, I bring thee greetings from thy son, Sir\nPercydes, who is a very dear friend to me. And likewise I bring thee\ngreeting from myself: for I am Percival, King Pellinore's son, and thy\nQueen and my mother are sisters. And likewise I come to redeem a pledge,\nfor, behold, here is the ring of thy daughter Yvette, unto whom I am\npledged for her true knight. Wherefore, having now achieved a not\ndishonorable renown in the world of chivalry, I am come to beseech her\nkindness and to redeem my ring which she hath upon her finger and to give\nher back her ring again.\"\n\nThen King Pecheur fell to weeping in great measure and he said: \"Percival\nthy fame hath reached even to this remote place, for every one talketh of\nthee with great unction. But, touching my daughter Yvette, if thou wilt\ncome with me I will bring thee to her.\"\n\nSo King Pecheur arose and went forth and Sir Percival followed him. And\nKing Pecheur brought Sir Percival to a certain tower; and he brought him up\na long and winding stair; and at the top of the stairway was a door. And\nKing Pecheur opened the door and Sir Percival entered the apartment.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival findeth the Lady Yvette] The windows of the\napartment stood open, and a cold wind came in thereat from off the sea; and\nthere stood a couch in the middle of the room, and it was spread with black\nvelvet; and the Lady Yvette lay reclined upon the couch, and, lo! her face\nwas like to wax for whiteness, and she neither moved nor spake, but only\nlay there perfectly still; for she was dead.\n\nSeven waxen candles burned at her head, and seven others at her feet, and\nthe flames of the candles spread and wavered as the cold wind blew upon\nthem. And the hair of her head (as black as those raven feathers that Sir\nPercival had beheld lying upon the snow) moved like threads of black silk\nas the wind blew in through the window--but the Lady Yvette moved not nor\nstirred, but lay like a statue of marble all clad in white.\n\nThen at the first Sir Percival stood very still at the door-way as though\nhe had of a sudden been turned into stone. Then he went forward and stood\nbeside the couch and held his hands very tightly together and gazed at the\nLady Yvette where she lay. So he stood for a long while, and he wist not\nwhy it was that he felt like as though he had been turned into a stone,\nwithout such grief at his heart as he had thought to feel thereat. (For\nindeed, his spirit was altogether broken though he knew it not.)\n\n[Sidenote: Of the grief of Sir Percival] Then he spake unto that still\nfigure, and he said: \"Dear lady, is it thus I find thee after all this long\nendeavor of mine? Yet from Paradise, haply, thou mayst perceive all that I\nhave accomplished in thy behalf. So shalt thou be my lady always to the end\nof my life and I will have none other than thee. Wherefore I herewith give\nthee thy ring again and take mine own in its stead.\" Therewith, so\nspeaking, he lifted that hand (all so cold like the snow) and took his ring\nfrom off her finger and put her ring back upon it again.\n\nThen King Pecheur said, \"Percival, hast thou no tears?\"\n\nAnd Percival said, \"Nay, I have none.\" Therewith he turned and left that\nplace, and King Pecheur went with him.\n\nAfter that Sir Percival abided in that place for three days, and King\nPecheur and his lady Queen and their two young sons who dwelt at that place\nmade great pity over him, and wept a great deal. But Sir Percival said but\nlittle in reply and wept not at all.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd now I shall tell you of that wonderful vision that came unto Sir\nPercival at this place upon Christmas day.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival beholds the grail] For on the third day (which was\nChristmas day) it chanced that Sir Percival sat alone in the hall of the\ncastle, and he meditated upon the great sorrow that lay upon him. And as he\nsat thus this very wonderful thing befell him: He suddenly beheld two\nyouths enter that hall. And the faces of the two youths shone with\nexceeding brightness, and their hair shone like gold, and their raiment was\nvery bright and glistering like to gold. One of these youths bare in his\nhand a spear of mighty size, and blood dropped from the point of the spear;\nand the other youth bare in his hand a chalice of pure gold, very wonderful\nto behold, and he held the chalice in a napkin of fine cambric linen.\n\nThen, at first, Sir Percival thought that that which he beheld was a vision\nconjured up by the deep sorrow that filled his heart, and he was afeard.\nBut the youth who bare the chalice spake in a voice extraordinarily high\nand clear. And he said: \"Percival! Percival! be not afraid! This which thou\nhere beholdest is the Sangreal, and that is the Spear of Sorrow. What then\nmay thy sorrow be in the presence of these holy things that brought with\nthem such great sorrow and affliction of soul that they have become\nentirely sanctified thereby! Thus, Percival, should thy sorrow so sanctify\nthy life and not make it bitter to thy taste. For so did this bitter cup\nbecome sanctified by the great sorrow that tasted of it.\"\n\nPercival said: \"Are these things real or are they a vision that I behold?\"\n\nHe who bare the chalice said, \"They are real.\" And he who bare the spear\nsaid, \"They are real.\"\n\nThen a great peace and comfort came to Sir Percival's heart and they never\nleft him to the day of his death.\n\nThen they who bare the Sangreal and the Spear went out of the hall, and Sir\nPercival kneeled there for a while after they had gone and prayed with\ngreat devotion and with much comfort and satisfaction.\n\nAnd this was the first time that any of those knights that were of King\nArthur's Round Table ever beheld that holy chalice, the which Sir Percival\nwas one of three to achieve in after-years.\n\nSo when Sir Percival came forth from that hall, all those who beheld him\nwere astonished at the great peace and calmness that appeared to emanate\nfrom him. But he told no one of that miraculous vision which he had just\nbeheld, and, though it appeareth in the history of these things, yet it was\nnot then made manifest.\n\nThen Sir Percival said to King Pecheur, his uncle and to his aunt and to\ntheir sons: \"Now, dear friends, the time hath come when I must leave you.\nFor I must now presently go to the court of King Arthur in obedience to his\ncommands and to acknowledge myself unto my brother, Sir Lamorack.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival departs for court] So that day Sir Percival set\nforth with intent to go to Camelot, where King Arthur was then holding\ncourt in great estate of pomp. And Sir Percival reached Camelot upon the\nfourth day from that time and that was during the feasts of Christmas-tide.\n\nNow King Arthur sat at those feasts and there were six score of very noble\ncompany seated with him. And the King's heart was greatly uplifted and\nexpanded with mirth and good cheer. Then, while all were feasting with\ngreat concord, there suddenly came into that hall an herald-messenger; the\nwhom, when King Arthur beheld him, he asked: \"What message hast thou\nbrought?\" Upon this the messenger said: \"Lord, there hath come one asking\npermission to enter here whom you will be very well pleased to see.\" The\nKing said, \"Who is it?\" And the herald-messenger said, \"He saith his name\nis Percival.\"\n\nUpon this King Arthur arose from where he sat and all the others uprose\nwith him and there was a great sound of loud voices; for the fame of Sir\nPercival had waxed very great since he had begun his adventures. So King\nArthur and the others went down the hall for to meet Sir Percival.\n\nThen the door opened and Sir Percival came into that place, and his face\nshone very bright with peace and good-will; and he was exceedingly comely.\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival is received with joy] King Arthur said, \"Art thou\nPercival?\" And Percival said, \"I am he.\" Thereupon King Arthur took Sir\nPercival's head into his hands, and he kissed him upon the brow. And Sir\nPercival kissed King Arthur's hand and he kissed the ring of royalty upon\nthe King's finger, and so he became a true knight in fealty unto King\nArthur.\n\nThen Sir Percival said: \"Lord, have I thy leave to speak?\" And King Arthur\nsaid, \"Say on.\" Sir Percival said, \"Where is Sir Lamorack?\" And King Arthur\nsaid, \"Yonder he is.\" Then Sir Percival perceived where Sir Lamorack stood\namong the others, and he went to Sir Lamorack and knelt down before him;\nand Sir Lamorack was very much astonished, and said: \"Why dost thou kneel\nto me, Percival?\" Then Sir Percival said, \"Dost thou know this ring?\"\n\nThen Sir Lamorack knew his father's ring and he cried out in a loud voice:\n\"That is my father's ring; how came ye by it?\"\n\nPercival said: \"Our mother gave it to me, for I am thy brother.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival declares himself to Sir Lamorack] Upon this Sir\nLamorack cried out with great passion; and he flung his arms about Sir\nPercival, and he kissed him repeatedly upon the face. And so ardent was the\ngreat love and the great passion that moved him that all those who stood\nabout could in no wise contain themselves, but wept at that which they\nbeheld.\n\nThen, after a while, King Arthur said: \"Percival, come with me, for I have\nsomewhat to show thee.\"\n\n[Sidenote: Sir Percival is made Knight of the Round Table] So King Arthur\nand Sir Lamorack and Sir Percival and several others went unto that\npavilion which was the pavilion of the Round Table, and there King Arthur\nshowed Sir Percival a seat which was immediately upon the right hand of the\nSeat Perilous.\n\nAnd upon the back of that seat there was a name emblazoned in letters of\ngold; and the name was this:\n\nPERCIVAL OF GALES\n\nThen King Arthur said: \"Behold, Sir Percival, this is thy seat, for four\ndays ago that name appeared most miraculously, of a sudden, where thou\nseest it; wherefore that seat is thine.\"\n\nThen Sir Percival was aware that that name had manifested itself at the\ntime when the Sangreal had appeared unto him in the castle of King Pecheur,\nand he was moved with a great passion of love and longing for the Lady\nYvette; so that, because of the strength of that passion, it took upon it\nthe semblance of a terrible joy. And he said to himself: \"If my lady could\nbut have beheld these, how proud would she have been! But, doubtless, she\nnow looketh down from Paradise and beholdeth us and all that we do.\"\nThereupon he lifted up his eyes as though to behold her, but she was not\nthere, but only the roof of that pavilion.\n\nBut he held his peace and said naught to anyone of those thoughts that\ndisturbed him.\n\nWith this I conclude for the present the adventures of Sir Percival with\nonly this to say: that thereafter, as soon as might be, he and Sir Lamorack\nwent up into the mountains where their mother dwelt and brought her down\nthence into the world, and that she was received at the court of King\nArthur with great honor and high regard until, after a while, she entered\ninto a nunnery and took the veil.\n\nLikewise it is to be said that Sir Percival lived, as he had vowed to do, a\nvirgin knight for all of his life; for he never paid court to any lady from\nthat time, but ever held within the sanctuary of his mind the image of that\ndear lady who waited for him in Paradise until he should come unto her in\nsuch season as God should see fit.\n\nBut you must not think that this is all that there is to tell of that\nnoble, gentle and worthy young knight whose history we have been\nconsidering. For after this he performed many glorious services to the\ngreat honor of his knighthood and achieved so many notable adventures that\nthe world spoke of him as being second in worship only to Sir Launcelot of\nthe Lake. Yea; there were many who doubted whether Sir Launcelot himself\nwas really a greater knight than Sir Percival; and though I may admit that\nSir Launcelot had the greater prowess, yet Sir Percival was, certes, the\nmore pure in heart and transparent of soul of those two.\n\nSo, hereafter, if God so wills, I shall tell more of Sir Percival, for I\nshall have much to write concerning him when I have to tell of the\nachievement of the Sangreal which he beheld in that vision at the Castle of\nKing Pecheur as aforetold.\n\nSo, for this time, no more of these adventures, but fare you well.\n\n\n\n\nCONCLUSION\n\nThus endeth the particular history of those three worthy, noble, excellent\nknights-champion--Sir Launcelot of the Lake, Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, and\nSir Percival of Gales.\n\nAnd I do hope that you may have found pleasure in considering their lives\nand their works as I have done. For as I wrote of their behavior and\npondered upon it, meseemed they offered a very high example that anyone\nmight follow to his betterment who lives in this world where so much that\nis ill needs to be amended.\n\nBut though I have told so much, yet, as I have just said, there remain many\nother things to tell concerning Sir Launcelot and Sir Percival, which may\nwell afford anyone pleasure to read. These I shall recount in another\nvolume at another time, with such particularity as those histories may\ndemand.","title":"The Story of the Champions of the Round Table","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":125742}