{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_12753/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_12753","id":"gutenberg_12753","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12753","summary":null,"tags":["Arthur, King -- Legends","Arthurian Legends","Arthurian romances -- Adaptations","Category: Adventure","Category: British Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Fantasy","Folklore -- England","Knights and knighthood -- Folklore"],"text":"The Legends of KING ARTHUR and his KNIGHTS\n\nSir James Knowles\n\nIllustrated by Lancelot Speed\n\n\nTO\nALFRED TENNYSON, D.C.L.\nPOET LAUREATE\n\nTHIS ATTEMPT AT A POPULAR VERSION OF\nTHE ARTHUR LEGENDS\nIS BY HIS PERMISSION DEDICATED\nAS A TRIBUTE\nOF THE SINCEREST AND WARMEST RESPECT\n\n\n1862\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE TO THE EIGHTH EDITION\n\n\nThe Publishers have asked me to authorise a new edition, in my own name,\nof this little book--now long out of print--which was written by me\nthirty-five years ago under the initials J.T.K.\n\nIn acceding to their request I wish to say that the book as now published\nis merely a word-for-word reprint of my early effort to help to popularise\nthe Arthur legends.\n\nIt is little else than an abridgment of Sir Thomas Malory's version of\nthem as printed by Caxton--with a few additions from Geoffrey of Monmouth\nand other sources--and an endeavour to arrange the many tales into a more\nor less consecutive story.\n\nThe chief pleasure which came to me from it was, and is, that it began for\nme a long and intimate acquaintance with Lord Tennyson, to whom, by his\npermission, I Dedicated it before I was personally known to him.\n\nJAMES KNOWLES.\n\n\n\n\n_Addendum by Lady Knowles_\n\n\nIn response to a widely expressed wish for a fresh edition of this little\nbook--now for some years out of print--a new and ninth edition has been\nprepared.\n\nIn his preface my husband says that the intimacy with Lord Tennyson to\nwhich it led was the chief pleasure the book brought him. I have been\nasked to furnish a few more particulars on this point that may be\ngenerally interesting, and feel that I cannot do better than give some\nextracts from a letter written by himself to a friend in July 1896.\n\n\"DEAR ----,\n\n\"I am so _very_ glad you approve of my little effort to popularise the\nArthur Legends. Tennyson had written his first four 'Idylls of the King'\nbefore my book appeared, which was in 1861. Indeed, it was in consequence\nof the first four Idylls that I sought and obtained, while yet a stranger\nto him, leave to dedicate my venture to him. He was extremely kind about\nit--declared 'it ought to go through forty editions'--and when I came to\nknow him personally talked very frequently about it and Arthur with me,\nand made constant use of it when he at length yielded to my perpetual\nurgency and took up again his forsaken project of treating the whole\nsubject of King Arthur.\n\n\"He discussed and rediscussed at any amount of length the way in which\nthis could now be done--and the Symbolism, which had from his earliest\ntime haunted him as the inner meaning to be given to it, brought him back\nto the Poem in its changed shape of separate pictures.\n\n\"He used often to say that it was entirely my doing that he revived his\nold plan, and added, 'I know more about Arthur than any other man in\nEngland, and I think you know next most.' It would amuse you to see in\nwhat intimate detail he used to consult with me--and often with my little\nbook in front of us--over the various tales, and when I wrote an article\n(in the shape of a long letter) in the _Spectator_ of January 1870 he\nasked to reprint it, and published it with the collected Idylls.\n\n\"For years, while his boys were at school and college, I acted as his\nconfidential friend in business and many other matters, and I suppose he\ntold me more about himself and his life than any other man now living\nknows.\"\n\nISABEL KNOWLES.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nThe Finding of Merlin--The Fight of the Dragons--The Giants' Dance--The\nProphecies of Merlin and the Birth of Arthur--Uther attacks the\nSaxons--The Death of Uther\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nMerlin's Advice to the Archbishop--The Miracle of the Sword and Stone--The\nCoronation of King Arthur--The Opposition of the Six Kings--The Sword\nExcalibur--The Defeat of the Six Kings--The War with the Eleven Kings\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nThe Adventure of the Questing Beast--The Siege of York--The Battles of\nCelidon Forest and Badon Hill--King Arthur drives the Saxons from the\nRealm--The Embassy from Rome--The King rescues Merlin--The Knight of the\nFountain\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nKing Arthur conquers Ireland and Norway--Slays the Giant of St. Michael's\nMount and conquers Gaul--King Ryence's Insolent Message--The Damsel and\nthe Sword--The Lady of the Lake--The Adventures of Sir Balin\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nSir Balin kills Sir Lancear--The Sullen Knight--The Knight Invisible is\nkilled--Sir Balin smites the Dolorous Stroke, and fights with his brother\nSir Balan\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nThe Marriage of King Arthur and Guinevere--The Coronation of the\nQueen--The Founding of the Round Table--The Quest of the White Hart--The\nAdventures of Sir Gawain--The Quest of the White Hound--Sir Tor kills\nAbellius--The Adventures of Sir Pellinore--The Death of Sir\nHantzlake--Merlin saves King Arthur\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nKing Arthur and Sir Accolon of Gaul are entrapped by Sir Damas--They fight\neach other through Enchantment of Queen Morgan le Fay--Sir Damas is\ncompelled to surrender all his Lands to Sir Outzlake his Brother their\nRightful Owner--Queen Morgan essays to kill King Arthur with a Magic\nGarment--Her Damsel is compelled to wear it and is thereby burned to\nCinders\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nA Second Embassy from Rome--King Arthur's Answer--The Emperor assembles\nhis Armies--King Arthur slays the Emperor--Sir Gawain and Sir\nPrianius--The Lombards are defeated--King Arthur crowned at Rome\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nThe Adventures of Sir Lancelot--He and his Cousin Sir Lionel set\nforth--The Four Witch-Queens--King Bagdemagus--Sir Lancelot slays Sir\nTurquine and delivers his Captive Knights--The Foul Knight--Sir Gaunter\nattacks Sir Lancelot--The Four Knights--Sir Lancelot comes to the Chapel\nPerilous--Ellawes the Sorceress--The Lady and the Falcon--Sir Bedivere and\nthe Dead Lady\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nBeaumains is made a Kitchen Page by Sir Key--He claims the Adventure of\nthe Damsel Linet--He fights with Sir Lancelot and is knighted by him in\nhis True Name of Gareth--Is flouted by the Damsel Linet--But overthrows\nall Knights he meets and sends them to King Arthur's Court--He delivers\nthe Lady Lyones from the Knight of the Redlands--The Tournament before\nCastle Perilous--Marriage of Sir Gareth and the Lady Lyones\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nThe Adventures of Sir Tristram--His Stepmother--He is knighted--Fights\nwith Sir Marhaus--Sir Palomedes and La Belle Isault--Sir Bleoberis and Sir\nSegwarides--Sir Tristram's Quest--His Return--The Castle Pluere--Sir\nBrewnor is slain--Sir Kay Hedius--La Belle Isault's Hound--Sir Dinedan\nrefuses to fight--Sir Pellinore follows Sir Tristram--Sir\nBrewse-without-pity--The Tournament at the Maiden's Castle--Sir Palomedes\nand Sir Tristram\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nMerlin is bewitched by a Damsel of the Lady of the Lake--Galahad knighted\nby Sir Lancelot--The Perilous Seat--The Marvellous Sword--Sir Galahad in\nthe Perilous Seat--The Sangreal--The Knights vow themselves to its\nQuest--The Shield of the White Knight--The Fiend of the Tomb--Sir Galahad\nat the Maiden's Castle--The Sick Knight and the Sangreal--Sir Lancelot\ndeclared unworthy to find the Holy Vessel--Sir Percival seeks Sir\nGalahad--The Black Steed--Sir Bors and the Hermit--Sir Pridan le Noir--Sir\nLionel's Anger--He meets Sir Percival--The ship \"Faith\"--Sir Galahad and\nEarl Hernox--The Leprous Lady--Sir Galahad discloses himself to Sir\nLancelot--They part--The Blind King Evelake--Sir Galahad finds the\nSangreal--His Death\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nThe Queen quarrels with Sir Lancelot--She is accused of Murder--Her\nChampion proves her innocence--The Tourney at Camelot--Sir Lancelot in the\nTourney--Sir Baldwin the Knight-Hermit--Elaine, the Maid of Astolat, seeks\nfor Sir Lancelot--She tends his Wounds--Her Death--The Queen and Sir\nLancelot are reconciled\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nSir Lancelot attacked by Sir Agravaine, Sir Modred, and thirteen other\nKnights--He slays them all but Sir Modred--He leaves the Court--Sir Modred\naccuses him to the King--The Queen condemned to be burnt--Her rescue by\nSir Lancelot and flight with him--The War between Sir Lancelot and the\nKing--The Enmity of Sir Gawain--The Usurpation of Sir Modred--The Queen\nretires to a Nunnery--Sir Lancelot goes on Pilgrimage--The Battle of\nBarham Downs--Sir Bedivere and the Sword Excalibur--The Death of King\nArthur\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATOR'S NOTE\n\n\nOf scenes from the Legends of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round\nTable many lovely pictures have been painted, showing much diversity of\nfigures and surroundings, some being definitely sixth-century British or\nSaxon, as in Blair Leighton's fine painting of the dead Elaine;\nothers--for example, Watts' Sir Galahad--show knight and charger in\nfifteenth-century armour; while the warriors of Burne Jones wear strangely\nimpracticable armour of some mystic period. Each of these painters was\nfree to follow his own conception, putting the figures into whatever\nperiod most appealed to his imagination; for he was not illustrating the\nactual tales written by Sir Thomas Malory, otherwise he would have found\nhimself face to face with a difficulty.\n\nKing Arthur and his knights fought, endured, and toiled in the sixth\ncentury, when the Saxons were overrunning Britain; but their achievements\nwere not chronicled by Sir Thomas Malory until late in the fifteenth\ncentury.\n\nSir Thomas, as Froissart has done before him, described the habits of\nlife, the dresses, weapons, and armour that his own eyes looked upon in\nthe every-day scenes about him, regardless of the fact that almost every\ndetail mentioned was something like a thousand years too late.\n\nHad Malory undertaken an account of the landing of Julius Caesar he would,\nas a matter of course, have protected the Roman legions with bascinet or\nsalade, breastplate, pauldron and palette, coudi\u00e9re, taces and the rest,\nand have armed them with lance and shield, jewel-hilted sword and slim\nmisericorde; while the Emperor himself might have been given the very suit\nof armour stripped from the Duke of Clarence before his fateful encounter\nwith the butt of malmsey.\n\nDid not even Shakespeare calmly give cannon to the Romans and suppose\nevery continental city to lie majestically beside the sea? By the old\nwriters, accuracy in these matters was disregarded, and anachronisms were\nnot so much tolerated as unperceived.\n\nIn illustrating this edition of \"The Legends of King Arthur and his\nKnights,\" it has seemed best, and indeed unavoidable if the text and the\npictures are to tally, to draw what Malory describes, to place the fashion\nof the costumes and armour somewhere about A.D. 1460, and to arm the\nknights in accordance with the Tabard Period.\n\nLANCELOT SPEED.\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\nThe Marriage of King Arthur\n\nThen fell Sir Ector down upon his knees upon the ground before young\nArthur, and Sir Key also with him.\n\nThe Lady of the Lake\n\nThe giant sat at supper, gnawing on a limb of a man, and baking his huge\nframe by the fire\n\nThe castle rocked and rove throughout, and all the walls fell crashed and\nbreaking to the earth\n\nCame forth twelve fair damsels, and saluted King Arthur by his name\n\nPrianius was christened, and made a duke and knight of the Round Table\n\nSir Lancelot smote down with one spear five knights, and brake the backs\nof four, and cast down the King of Northgales\n\nBeyond the chapel, he met a fair damsel, who said, \"Sir Lancelot, leave\nthat sword behind thee, or thou diest\"\n\n\"Lady,\" replied Sir Beaumains, \"a knight is little worth who may not bear\nwith a damsel\"\n\nSo he rode into the hall and alighted\n\nThen they began the battle, and tilted at their hardest against each other\n\nAnd running to her chamber, she sought in her casket for the piece of\niron ... and fitted it in Tristram's sword\n\nBy the time they had finished drinking they loved each other so well that\ntheir love never more might leave them\n\nWaving her hands and muttering the charm, and presently enclosed him fast\nwithin the tree\n\nGalahad ... quickly lifted up the stone, and forthwith came out a foul\nsmoke\n\n\"This girdle, lords,\" said she, \"is made for the most part of mine own\nhair, which, while I was yet in the world, I loved full well\"\n\nAt last the strange knight smote him to the earth, and gave him such a\nbuffet on the helm as wellnigh killed him\n\nThen was Sir Lancelot sent for, and the letter read aloud by a clerk\n\nBut still the knights cried mightily without the door, \"Traitor, come\nforth!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE LEGENDS OF KING ARTHUR\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n_The Prophecies of Merlin, and the Birth of Arthur_\n\n\nKing Vortigern the usurper sat upon his throne in London, when, suddenly,\nupon a certain day, ran in a breathless messenger, and cried aloud--\n\n\"Arise, Lord King, for the enemy is come; even Ambrosius and Uther, upon\nwhose throne thou sittest--and full twenty thousand with them--and they\nhave sworn by a great oath, Lord, to slay thee, ere this year be done; and\neven now they march towards thee as the north wind of winter for\nbitterness and haste.\"\n\nAt those words Vortigern's face grew white as ashes, and, rising in\nconfusion and disorder, he sent for all the best artificers and craftsmen\nand mechanics, and commanded them vehemently to go and build him\nstraightway in the furthest west of his lands a great and strong castle,\nwhere he might fly for refuge and escape the vengeance of his master's\nsons--\"and, moreover,\" cried he, \"let the work be done within a hundred\ndays from now, or I will surely spare no life amongst you all.\"\n\nThen all the host of craftsmen, fearing for their lives, found out a\nproper site whereon to build the tower, and eagerly began to lay in the\nfoundations. But no sooner were the walls raised up above the ground than\nall their work was overwhelmed and broken down by night invisibly, no man\nperceiving how, or by whom, or what. And the same thing happening again,\nand yet again, all the workmen, full of terror, sought out the king, and\nthrew themselves upon their faces before him, beseeching him to interfere\nand help them or to deliver them from their dreadful work.\n\nFilled with mixed rage and fear, the king called for the astrologers and\nwizards, and took counsel with them what these things might be, and how to\novercome them. The wizards worked their spells and incantations, and in\nthe end declared that nothing but the blood of a youth born without mortal\nfather, smeared on the foundations of the castle, could avail to make it\nstand. Messengers were therefore sent forthwith through all the land to\nfind, if it were possible, such a child. And, as some of them went down a\ncertain village street, they saw a band of lads fighting and quarrelling,\nand heard them shout at one--\"Avaunt, thou imp!--avaunt! Son of no mortal\nman! go, find thy father, and leave us in peace.\"\n\nAt that the messengers looked steadfastly on the lad, and asked who he\nwas. One said his name was Merlin; another, that his birth and parentage\nwere known by no man; a third, that the foul fiend alone was his father.\nHearing the things, the officers seized Merlin, and carried him before the\nking by force.\n\nBut no sooner was he brought to him than he asked in a loud voice, for\nwhat cause he was thus dragged there?\n\n\"My magicians,\" answered Vortigern, \"told me to seek out a man that had no\nhuman father, and to sprinkle my castle with his blood, that it may\nstand.\"\n\n\"Order those magicians,\" said Merlin, \"to come before me, and I will\nconvict them of a lie.\"\n\nThe king was astonished at his words, but commanded the magicians to come\nand sit down before Merlin, who cried to them--\n\n\"Because ye know not what it is that hinders the foundation of the castle,\nye have advised my blood for a cement to it, as if that would avail; but\ntell me now rather what there is below that ground, for something there is\nsurely underneath that will not suffer the tower to stand?\"\n\nThe wizards at these words began to fear, and made no answer. Then said\nMerlin to the king--\n\n\"I pray, Lord, that workmen may be ordered to dig deep down into the\nground till they shall come to a great pool of water.\"\n\nThis then was done, and the pool discovered far beneath the surface of the\nground.\n\nThen, turning again to the magicians, Merlin said, \"Tell me now, false\nsycophants, what there is underneath that pool?\"--but they were silent.\nThen said he to the king, \"Command this pool to be drained, and at the\nbottom shall be found two dragons, great and huge, which now are sleeping,\nbut which at night awake and fight and tear each other. At their great\nstruggle all the ground shakes and trembles, and so casts down thy towers,\nwhich, therefore, never yet could find secure foundations.\"\n\nThe king was amazed at these words, but commanded the pool to be forthwith\ndrained; and surely at the bottom of it did they presently discover the\ntwo dragons, fast asleep, as Merlin had declared.\n\nBut Vortigern sat upon the brink of the pool till night to see what else\nwould happen.\n\nThen those two dragons, one of which was white, the other red, rose up and\ncame near one another, and began a sore fight, and cast forth fire with\ntheir breath. But the white dragon had the advantage, and chased the other\nto the end of the lake. And he, for grief at his flight, turned back upon\nhis foe, and renewed the combat, and forced him to retire in turn. But in\nthe end the red dragon was worsted, and the white dragon disappeared no\nman knew where.\n\nWhen their battle was done, the king desired Merlin to tell him what it\nmeant. Whereat he, bursting into tears, cried out this prophecy, which\nfirst foretold the coming of King Arthur.\n\n\"Woe to the red dragon, which figureth the British nation, for his\nbanishment cometh quickly; his lurkingholes shall be seized by the white\ndragon--the Saxon whom thou, O king, hast called to the land. The\nmountains shall be levelled as the valleys, and the rivers of the valleys\nshall run blood; cities shall be burned, and churches laid in ruins; till\nat length the oppressed shall turn for a season and prevail against the\nstrangers. For a Boar of Cornwall shall arise and rend them, and trample\ntheir necks beneath his feet. The island shall be subject to his power,\nand he shall take the forests of Gaul. The house of Romulus shall dread\nhim--all the world shall fear him--and his end shall no man know; he shall\nbe immortal in the mouths of the people, and his works shall be food to\nthose that tell them.\n\n\"But as for thee, O Vortigern, flee thou the sons of Constantine, for they\nshall burn thee in thy tower. For thine own ruin wast thou traitor to\ntheir father, and didst bring the Saxon heathens to the land. Aurelius and\nUther are even now upon thee to revenge their father's murder; and the\nbrood of the white dragon shall waste thy country, and shall lick thy\nblood. Find out some refuge, if thou wilt! but who may escape the doom of\nGod?\"\n\nThe king heard all this, trembling greatly; and, convicted of his sins,\nsaid nothing in reply. Only he hasted the builders of his tower by day and\nnight, and rested not till he had fled thereto.\n\nIn the meantime, Aurelius, the rightful king, was hailed with joy by the\nBritons, who flocked to his standard, and prayed to be led against the\nSaxons. But he, till he had first killed Vortigern, would begin no other\nwar. He marched therefore to Cambria, and came before the tower which the\nusurper had built. Then, crying out to all his knights, \"Avenge ye on him\nwho hath ruined Britain and slain my father and your king!\" he rushed with\nmany thousands at the castle walls. But, being driven back again and yet\nagain, at length he thought of fire, and ordered blazing brands to be cast\ninto the building from all sides. These finding soon a proper fuel, ceased\nnot to rage, till spreading to a mighty conflagration, they burned down\nthe tower and Vortigern within it.\n\nThen did Aurelius turn his strength against Hengist and the Saxons, and,\ndefeating them in many places, weakened their power for a long season, so\nthat the land had peace.\n\nAnon the king, making many journeys to and fro, restoring ruined churches\nand, creating order, came to the monastery near Salisbury, where all those\nBritish knights lay buried who had been slain there by the treachery of\nHengist. For when in former times Hengist had made a solemn truce with\nVortigern, to meet in peace and settle terms, whereby himself and all his\nSaxons should depart from Britain, the Saxon soldiers carried every one of\nthem beneath his garment a long dagger, and, at a given signal, fell upon\nthe Britons, and slew them, to the number of nearly five hundred.\n\nThe sight of the place where the dead lay moved Aurelius to great sorrow,\nand he cast about in his mind how to make a worthy tomb over so many noble\nmartyrs, who had died there for their country.\n\nWhen he had in vain consulted many craftsmen and builders, he sent, by the\nadvice of the archbishop, for Merlin, and asked him what to do. \"If you\nwould honour the burying-place of these men,\" said Merlin, \"with an\neverlasting monument, send for the Giants' Dance which is in Killaraus, a\nmountain in Ireland; for there is a structure of stone there which none of\nthis age could raise without a perfect knowledge of the arts. They are\nstones of a vast size and wondrous nature, and if they can be placed here\nas they are there, round this spot of ground, they will stand for ever.\"\n\nAt these words of Merlin, Aurelius burst into laughter, and said, \"How is\nit possible to remove such vast stones from so great a distance, as if\nBritain, also, had no stones fit for the work?\"\n\n\"I pray the king,\" said Merlin, \"to forbear vain laughter; what I have\nsaid is true, for those stones are mystical and have healing virtues. The\ngiants of old brought them from the furthest coast of Africa, and placed\nthem in Ireland while they lived in that country: and their design was to\nmake baths in them, for use in time of grievous illness. For if they\nwashed the stones and put the sick into the water, it certainly healed\nthem, as also it did them that were wounded in battle; and there is no\nstone among them but hath the same virtue still.\"\n\nWhen the Britons heard this, they resolved to send for the stones, and to\nmake war upon the people of Ireland if they offered to withhold them. So,\nwhen they had chosen Uther the king's brother for their chief, they set\nsail, to the number of 15,000 men, and came to Ireland. There Gillomanius,\nthe king, withstood them fiercely, and not till after a great battle could\nthey approach the Giants' Dance, the sight of which filled them with joy\nand admiration. But when they sought to move the stones, the strength of\nall the army was in vain, until Merlin, laughing at their failures,\ncontrived machines of wondrous cunning, which took them down with ease,\nand placed them in the ships.\n\nWhen they had brought the whole to Salisbury, Aurelius, with the crown\nupon his head, kept for four days the feast of Pentecost with royal pomp;\nand in the midst of all the clergy and the people, Merlin raised up the\nstones, and set them round the sepulchre of the knights and barons, as\nthey stood in the mountains of Ireland.\n\nThen was the monument called \"Stonehenge,\" which stands, as all men know,\nupon the plain of Salisbury to this very day.\n\nSoon thereafter it befell that Aurelius was slain by poison at Winchester,\nand was himself buried within the Giants' Dance.\n\nAt the same time came forth a comet of amazing size and brightness,\ndarting out a beam, at the end whereof was a cloud of fire shaped like a\ndragon, from whose mouth went out two rays, one stretching over Gaul, the\nother ending in seven lesser rays over the Irish sea.\n\nAt the appearance of this star a great dread fell upon the people, and\nUther, marching into Cambria against the son of Vortigern, himself was\nvery troubled to learn what it might mean. Then Merlin, being called\nbefore him, cried with a loud voice: \"O mighty loss! O stricken Britain!\nAlas! the great prince is gone from us. Aurelius Ambrosius is dead, whose\ndeath will be ours also, unless God help us. Haste, therefore, noble\nUther, to destroy the enemy; the victory shall be thine, and thou shalt be\nking of all Britain. For the star with the fiery dragon signifies thyself;\nand the ray over Gaul portends that thou shalt have a son, most mighty,\nwhom all those kingdoms shall obey which the ray covers.\"\n\nThus, for the second time, did Merlin foretell the coming of King Arthur.\nAnd Uther, when he was made king, remembered Merlin's words, and caused\ntwo dragons to be made in gold, in likeness of the dragon he had seen in\nthe star. One of these he gave to Winchester Cathedral, and had the other\ncarried into all his wars before him, whence he was ever after called\nUther Pendragon, or the dragon's head.\n\nNow, when Uther Pendragon had passed through all the land, and settled\nit--and even voyaged into all the countries of the Scots, and tamed the\nfierceness of that rebel people--he came to London, and ministered justice\nthere. And it befell at a certain great banquet and high feast which the\nking made at Easter-tide, there came, with many other earls and barons,\nGorlo\u00efs, Duke of Cornwall, and his wife Igerna, who was the most famous\nbeauty in all Britain. And soon thereafter, Gorlo\u00efs being slain in battle,\nUther determined to make Igerna his own wife. But in order to do this, and\nenable him to come to her--for she was shut up in the high castle of\nTintagil, on the furthest coast of Cornwall--the king sent for Merlin, to\ntake counsel with him and to pray his help. This, therefore, Merlin\npromised him on one condition--namely, that the king should give him up\nthe first son born of the marriage. For Merlin by his arts foreknew that\nthis firstborn should be the long-wished prince, King Arthur.\n\nWhen Uther, therefore, was at length happily wedded, Merlin came to the\ncastle on a certain day, and said, \"Sir, thou must now provide thee for\nthe nourishing of thy child.\"\n\nAnd the king, nothing doubting, said, \"Be it as thou wilt.\"\n\n\"I know a lord of thine in this land,\" said Merlin, \"who is a man both\ntrue and faithful; let him have the nourishing of the child. His name is\nSir Ector, and he hath fair possessions both in England and in Wales.\nWhen, therefore, the child is born, let him be delivered unto me,\nunchristened, at yonder postern-gate, and I will bestow him in the care of\nthis good knight.\"\n\nSo when the child was born, the king bid two knights and two ladies to\ntake it, bound in rich cloth of gold, and deliver it to a poor man whom\nthey should discover at the postern-gate. And the child being delivered\nthus to Merlin, who himself took the guise of a poor man, was carried by\nhim to a holy priest and christened by the name of Arthur, and then was\ntaken to Sir Ector's house, and nourished at Sir Ector's wife's own\nbreasts. And in the same house he remained privily for many years, no man\nsoever knowing where he was, save Merlin and the king.\n\nAnon it befell that the king was seized by a lingering distemper, and the\nSaxon heathens, taking their occasion, came back from over sea, and\nswarmed upon the land, wasting it with fire and sword. When Uther heard\nthereof, he fell into a greater rage than his weakness could bear, and\ncommanded all his nobles to come before him, that he might upbraid them\nfor their cowardice. And when he had sharply and hotly rebuked them, he\nswore that he himself, nigh unto death although he lay, would lead them\nforth against the enemy. Then causing a horse-litter to be made, in which\nhe might be carried--for he was too faint and weak to ride--he went up\nwith all his army swiftly against the Saxons.\n\nBut they, when they heard that Uther was coming in a litter, disdained to\nfight with him, saying it would be shame for brave men to fight with one\nhalf dead. So they retired into their city; and, as it were in scorn of\ndanger, left the gates wide open. But Uther straightway commanding his men\nto assault the town, they did so without loss of time, and had already\nreached the gates, when the Saxons, repenting too late of their haughty\npride, rushed forth to the defence. The battle raged till night, and was\nbegun again next day; but at last, their leaders, Octa and Eosa, being\nslain, the Saxons turned their backs and fled, leaving the Britons a full\ntriumph.\n\nThe king at this felt so great joy, that, whereas before he could scarce\nraise himself without help, he now sat upright in his litter by himself,\nand said, with a laughing and merry face, \"They called me the half-dead\nking, and so indeed I was; but victory to me half dead is better than\ndefeat and the best health. For to die with honour is far better than to\nlive disgraced.\"\n\nBut the Saxons, although thus defeated, were ready still for war. Uther\nwould have pursued them; but his illness had by now so grown, that his\nknights and barons kept him from the adventure. Whereat the enemy took\ncourage, and left nothing undone to destroy the land; until, descending to\nthe vilest treachery, they resolved to kill the king by poison.\n\nTo this end, as he lay sick at Verulam, they sent and poisoned stealthily\na spring of clear water, whence he was wont to drink daily; and so, on the\nvery next day, he was taken with the pains of death, as were also a\nhundred others after him, before the villainy was discovered, and heaps of\nearth thrown over the well.\n\nThe knights and barons, full of sorrow, now took counsel together, and\ncame to Merlin for his help to learn the king's will before he died, for\nhe was by this time speechless. \"Sirs, there is no remedy,\" said Merlin,\n\"and God's will must be done; but be ye all to-morrow before him, for God\nwill make him speak before he die.\"\n\nSo on the morrow all the barons, with Merlin, stood round the bedside of\nthe king; and Merlin said aloud to Uther, \"Lord, shall thy son Arthur be\nthe king of all this realm after thy days?\"\n\nThen Uther Pendragon turned him about, and said, in the hearing of them\nall, \"God's blessing and mine be upon him. I bid him pray for my soul, and\nalso that he claim my crown, or forfeit all my blessing;\" and with those\nwords he died.\n\nThen came together all the bishops and the clergy, and great multitudes of\npeople, and bewailed the king; and carrying his body to the convent of\nAmbrius, they buried it close by his brother's grave, within the \"Giants'\nDance.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n_The Miracle of the Sword and Stone, and the Coronation of King\nArthur--The Sword Excalilur--The War with the Eleven Kings_\n\n\nNow Arthur the prince had all this time been nourished in Sir Ector's\nhouse as his own son, and was fair and tall and comely, being of the age\nof fifteen years, great in strength, gentle in manner, and accomplished in\nall exercises proper for the training of a knight.\n\nBut as yet he knew not of his father; for Merlin had so dealt, that none\nsave Uther and himself knew aught about him. Wherefore it befell, that\nmany of the knights and barons who heard King Uther speak before his\ndeath, and call his son Arthur his successor, were in great amazement; and\nsome doubted, and others were displeased.\n\nAnon the chief lords and princes set forth each to his own land, and,\nraising armed men and multitudes of followers, determined every one to\ngain the crown for himself; for they said in their hearts, \"If there be\nany such a son at all as he of whom this wizard forced the king to speak,\nwho are we that a beardless boy should have rule over us?\"\n\nSo the land stood long in great peril, for every lord and baron sought but\nhis own advantage; and the Saxons, growing ever more adventurous, wasted\nand overran the towns and villages in every part.\n\nThen Merlin went to Brice, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and advised him\nto require all the earls and barons of the realm and all knights and\ngentlemen-at-arms to come to him at London, before Christmas, under pain\nof cursing, that they might learn the will of Heaven who should be king.\nThis, therefore, the archbishop did, and upon Christmas Eve were met\ntogether in London all the greatest princes, lords, and barons; and long\nbefore day they prayed in St. Paul's Church, and the archbishop besought\nHeaven for a sign who should be lawful king of all the realm.\n\nAnd as they prayed, there was seen in the churchyard, set straight before\nthe doorways of the church, a huge square stone having a naked sword stuck\nin the midst of it. And on the sword was written in letters of gold,\n\"Whoso pulleth out the sword from this stone is born the rightful King of\nBritain.\"\n\nAt this all the people wondered greatly; and, when Mass was over, the\nnobles, knights, and princes ran out eagerly from the church to see the\nstone and sword; and a law was forthwith made that whoso should pull out\nthe sword should be acknowledged straightway King of Britain.\n\nThen many knights and barons pulled at the sword with all their might, and\nsome of them tried many times, but none could stir or move it.\n\nWhen all had tried in vain, the archbishop declared the man whom Heaven\nhad chosen was not yet there. \"But God,\" said he, \"will doubtless make\nhim known ere many days.\"\n\nSo ten knights were chosen, being men of high renown, to watch and keep\nthe sword; and there was proclamation made through all the land that\nwhosoever would, had leave and liberty to try and pull it from the stone.\nBut though great multitudes of people came, both gentle and simple, for\nmany days, no man could ever move the sword a hair's breadth from its\nplace.\n\nNow, at the New Year's Eve a great tournament was to be held in London,\nwhich the archbishop had devised to keep together lords and commons, lest\nthey should grow estranged in the troublous and unsettled times. To the\nwhich tournament there came, with many other knights, Sir Ector, Arthur's\nfoster-father, who had great possessions near to London; and with him came\nhis son, Sir Key, but recently made knight, to take his part in the\njousting, and young Arthur also to witness all the sports and fighting.\n\nBut as they rode towards the jousts, Sir Key found suddenly he had no\nsword, for he had left it at his father's house; and turning to young\nArthur, he prayed him to ride back and fetch it for him. \"I will with a\ngood will,\" said Arthur; and rode fast back after the sword.\n\nBut when he came to the house he found it locked and empty, for all were\ngone forth to see the tournament. Whereat, being angry and impatient, he\nsaid within himself, \"I will ride to the churchyard and take with me the\nsword that sticketh in the stone, for my brother shall not go without a\nsword this day.\"\n\nSo he rode and came to the churchyard, and alighting from his horse he\ntied him to the gate, and went to the pavilion, which was pitched near\nthe stone, wherein abode the ten knights who watched and kept it; but he\nfound no knights there, for all were gone to see the jousting.\n\nThen he took the sword by its handle, and lightly and fiercely he pulled\nit out of the stone, and took his horse and rode until he came to Sir Key\nand delivered him the sword. But as soon as Sir Key saw it he knew well it\nwas the sword of the stone, and, riding swiftly to his father, he cried\nout, \"Lo! here, sir, is the sword of the stone, wherefore it is I who must\nbe king of all this land.\"\n\nWhen Sir Ector saw the sword, he turned back straight with Arthur and Sir\nKey and came to the churchyard, and there alighting, they went all three\ninto the church, and Sir Key was sworn to tell truly how he came by the\nsword. Then he confessed it was his brother Arthur who had brought it to\nhim.\n\nWhereat Sir Ector, turning to young Arthur, asked him--\"How gottest thou\nthe sword?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said he, \"I will tell you. When I went home to fetch my brother's\nsword, I found nobody to deliver it to me, for all were abroad to the\njousts. Yet was I loath to leave my brother swordless, and, bethinking me\nof this one, I came hither eagerly to fetch it for him, and pulled it out\nof the stone without any pain.\"\n\nThen said Sir Ector, much amazed and looking steadfastly on Arthur, \"If\nthis indeed be thus, 'tis thou who shalt be king of all this land--and God\nwill have it so--for none but he who should be rightful Lord of Britain\nmight ever draw this sword forth from that stone. But let me now with mine\nown eyes see thee put back the sword into its place and draw it forth\nagain.\"\n\n\"That is no mystery,\" said Arthur; and straightway set it in the stone.\nAnd then Sir Ector pulled at it himself, and after him Sir Key, with all\nhis might, but both of them in vain: then Arthur reaching forth his hand\nand grasping at the pommel, pulled it out easily, and at once.\n\nThen fell Sir Ector down upon his knees upon the ground before young\nArthur, and Sir Key also with him, and straightway did him homage as their\nsovereign lord.\n\n[Illustration: Then fell Sir Ector down upon his knees upon the ground\nbefore young Arthur, and Sir Key also with him.]\n\nBut Arthur cried aloud, \"Alas! mine own dear father and my brother, why\nkneel ye thus to me?\"\n\n\"Nay, my Lord Arthur,\" answered then Sir Ector, \"we are of no\nblood-kinship with thee, and little though I thought how high thy kin\nmight be, yet wast thou never more than foster-child of mine.\" And then he\ntold him all he knew about his infancy, and how a stranger had delivered\nhim, with a great sum of gold, into his hands to be brought up and\nnourished as his own born child, and then had disappeared.\n\nBut when young Arthur heard of it, he fell upon Sir Ector's neck, and\nwept, and made great lamentation, \"For now,\" said he, \"I have in one day\nlost my father and my mother and my brother.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Ector presently, \"when thou shalt be made king be good and\ngracious unto me and mine.\"\n\n\"If not,\" said Arthur, \"I were no true man's son at all, for thou art he\nin all the world to whom I owe the most; and my good lady and mother, thy\nwife, hath ever kept and fostered me as though I were her own; so if it be\nGod's will that I be king hereafter as thou sayest, desire of me whatever\nthing thou wilt and I will do it; and God forbid that I should fail thee\nin it.\"\n\n\"I will but pray,\" replied Sir Ector, \"that thou wilt make my son Sir Key,\nthy foster-brother, seneschal of all the lands.\"\n\n\"That shall he be,\" said Arthur; \"and never shall another hold that\noffice, save thy son, while he and I do live.\"\n\nAnon, they left the church and went to the archbishop to tell him that the\nsword had been achieved. And when he saw the sword in Arthur's hand he set\na day and summoned all the princes, knights, and barons to meet again at\nSt. Paul's Church and see the will of Heaven signified. So when they came\ntogether, the sword was put back in the stone, and all tried, from the\ngreatest to the least, to move it; but there before them all not one could\ntake it out save Arthur only.\n\nBut then befell a great confusion and dispute, for some cried out it was\nthe will of Heaven, and, \"Long live King Arthur,\" but many more were full\nof wrath and said, \"What! would ye give the ancient sceptre of this land\nunto a boy born none know how?\" And the contention growing greatly, till\nnothing could be done to pacify their rage, the meeting was at length\nbroken up by the archbishop and adjourned till Candlemas, when all should\nmeet again.\n\nBut when Candlemas was come, Arthur alone again pulled forth the sword,\nthough more than ever came to win it; and the barons, sorely vexed and\nangry, put it in delay till Easter. But as he had sped before so he did at\nEaster, and the barons yet once more contrived delays till Pentecost.\n\nBut now the archbishop, fully seeing God's will, called together, by\nMerlin's counsel, a band of knights and gentlemen-at-arms, and set them\nabout Arthur to keep him safely till the feast of Pentecost. And when at\nthe feast Arthur still again alone prevailed to move the sword, the people\nall with one accord cried out, \"Long live King Arthur! we will have no\nmore delay, nor any other king, for so it is God's will; and we will slay\nwhoso resisteth Him and Arthur;\" and wherewithal they kneeled down all at\nonce, and cried for Arthur's grace and pardon that they had so long\ndelayed him from his crown. Then he full sweetly and majestically pardoned\nthem; and taking in his hand the sword, he offered it upon the high altar\nof the church.\n\nAnon was he solemnly knighted with great pomp by the most famous knight\nthere present, and the crown was placed upon his head; and, having taken\noath to all the people, lords and commons, to be true king and deal in\njustice only unto his life's end, he received homage and service from all\nthe barons who held lands and castles from the crown. Then he made Sir\nKey, High Steward of England, and Sir Badewaine of Britain, Constable, and\nSir Ulfius, Chamberlain: and after this, with all his court and a great\nretinue of knights and armed men, he journeyed into Wales, and was crowned\nagain in the old city of Caerleon-upon-Usk.\n\nMeanwhile those knights and barons who had so long delayed him from the\ncrown, met together and went up to the coronation feast at Caerleon, as if\nto do him homage; and there they ate and drank such things as were set\nbefore them at the royal banquet, sitting with the others in the great\nhall.\n\nBut when after the banquet Arthur began, according to the ancient royal\ncustom, to bestow great boons and fiefs on whom he would, they all with\none accord rose up, and scornfully refused his gifts, crying that they\nwould take nothing from a beardless boy come of low or unknown birth, but\nwould instead give him good gifts of hard sword-strokes between neck and\nshoulders.\n\nWhereat arose a deadly tumult in the hall, and every man there made him\nready to fight. But Arthur leaped up as a flame of fire against them, and\nall his knights and barons drawing their swords, rushed after him upon\nthem and began a full sore battle; and presently the king's party\nprevailed, and drave the rebels from the hall and from the city, closing\nthe gates behind them; and King Arthur brake his sword upon them in his\neagerness and rage.\n\nBut amongst them were six kings of great renown and might, who more than\nall raged against Arthur and determined to destroy him, namely, King Lot,\nKing Nanters, King Urien, King Carados, King Yder, and King Anguisant.\nThese six, therefore, joining their armies together, laid close siege to\nthe city of Caerleon, wherefrom King Arthur had so shamefully driven them.\n\nAnd after fifteen days Merlin came suddenly into their camp and asked them\nwhat this treason meant. Then he declared to them that Arthur was no base\nadventurer, but King Uther's son, whom they were bound to serve and honour\neven though Heaven had not vouchsafed the wondrous miracle of the sword.\nSome of the kings, when they heard Merlin speak thus, marvelled and\nbelieved him; but others, as King Lot, laughed him and his words to scorn,\nand mocked him for a conjurer and wizard. But it was agreed with Merlin\nthat Arthur should come forth and speak with the kings.\n\nSo he went forth to them to the city gate, and with him the archbishop and\nMerlin, and Sir Key, Sir Brastias, and a great company of others. And he\nspared them not in his speech, but spoke to them as king and chieftain\ntelling them plainly he would make them all bow to him if he lived, unless\nthey choose to do him homage there and then; and so they parted in great\nwrath, and each side armed in haste.\n\n\"What will ye do?\" said Merlin to the kings; \"ye had best hold your hands,\nfor were ye ten times as many ye should not prevail.\"\n\n\"Shall we be afraid of a dream-reader?\" quoth King Lot in scorn.\n\nWith that Merlin vanished away and came to King Arthur.\n\nThen Arthur said to Merlin, \"I have need now of a sword that shall\nchastise these rebels terribly.\"\n\n\"Come then with me,\" said Merlin, \"for hard by there is a sword that I can\ngain for thee.\"\n\nSo they rode out that night till they came to a fair and broad lake, and\nin the midst of it King Arthur saw an arm thrust up, clothed in white\nsamite, and holding a great sword in the hand.\n\n\"Lo! yonder is the sword I spoke of,\" said Merlin.\n\nThen saw they a damsel floating on the lake in the Moonlight. \"What damsel\nis that?\" said the king.\n\n\"The lady of the lake,\" said Merlin; \"for upon this lake there is a rock,\nand on the rock a noble palace, where she abideth, and she will come\ntowards thee presently, thou shalt ask her courteously for the sword.\"\n\n[Illustration: The lady of the lake.]\n\nTherewith the damsel came to King Arthur, and saluted him, and he saluted\nher, and said, \"Lady, what sword is that the arm holdeth above the water?\nI would that it were mine, for I have no sword.\"\n\n\"Sir King,\" said the lady of the lake, \"that sword is mine, and if thou\nwilt give me in return a gift whenever I shall ask it of thee, thou shalt\nhave it.\"\n\n\"By my faith,\" said he, \"I will give thee any gift that thou shalt ask.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the damsel, \"go into yonder barge, and row thyself unto the\nsword, and take it and the scabbard with thee, and I will ask my gift of\nthee when I see my time.\"\n\nSo King Arthur and Merlin alighted, and tied their horses to two trees,\nand went into the barge; and when they came to the sword that the hand\nheld, King Arthur took it by the handle and bore it with him, and the arm\nand hand went down under the water; and so they came back to land, and\nrode again to Caerleon.\n\nOn the morrow Merlin bade King Arthur to set fiercely on the enemy; and in\nthe meanwhile three hundred good knights went over to King Arthur from the\nrebels' side. Then at the spring of day, when they had scarce left their\ntents, he fell on them with might and main, and Sir Badewaine, Sir Key,\nand Sir Brastias slew on the right hand and on the left marvellously; and\never in the thickest of the fight King Arthur raged like a young lion, and\nlaid on with his sword, and did wondrous deeds of arms, to the joy and\nadmiration of the knights and barons who beheld him.\n\nThen King Lot, King Carados, and the King of the Hundred Knights--who also\nrode with them--going round to the rear, set on King Arthur fiercely from\nbehind; but Arthur, turning to his knights, fought ever in the foremost\npress until his horse was slain beneath him. At that, King Lot rode\nfuriously at him, and smote him down; but rising straightway, and being\nset again on horseback, he drew his sword Excalibur that he had gained by\nMerlin from the lady of the lake, which, shining brightly as the light of\nthirty torches, dazzled the eyes of his enemies. And therewith falling on\nthem afresh with all his knights, he drove them back and slew them in\ngreat numbers, and Merlin by his arts scattered among them fire and pitchy\nsmoke, so that they broke and fled. Then all the common people of\nCaerleon, seeing them give way, rose up with one accord, and rushed at\nthem with clubs and staves, and chased them far and wide, and slew many\ngreat knights and lords, and the remainder of them fled and were seen no\nmore. Thus won King Arthur his first battle and put his enemies to shame.\n\nBut the six kings, though sorely routed, prepared for a new war, and\njoining to themselves five others swore together that, whether for weal or\nwoe, they would keep steadfast alliance till they had destroyed King\nArthur. Then, with a host of 50,000 men-at-arms on horseback, and 10,000\nfoot, they were soon ready, and sent forth their fore-riders, and drew\nfrom the northern country towards King Arthur, to the castle of Bedgraine.\n\nBut he by Merlin's counsel had sent over sea to King Ban of Benwick and\nKing Bors of Gaul, praying them to come and help him in his wars, and\npromising to help in return against King Claudas, their foe. To which\nthose kings made answer that they would joyfully fulfil his wish, and\nshortly after came to London with 300 knights, well arrayed for both peace\nand war, leaving behind them a great army on the other side of the sea\ntill they had consulted with King Arthur and his ministers how they might\nbest dispose of it.\n\nAnd Merlin being asked for his advice and help, agreed to go himself and\nfetch it over sea to England, which in one night he did; and brought with\nhim 10,000 horsemen and led them northward privately to the forest of\nBedgraine, and there lodged them in a valley secretly.\n\nThen, by the counsel of Merlin, when they knew which way the eleven kings\nwould ride and sleep, King Arthur with Kings Ban and Bors made themselves\nready with their army for the fight, having yet but 30,000 men, counting\nthe 10,000 who had come from Gaul.\n\n\"Now shall ye do my advice,\" said Merlin; \"I would that King Ban and King\nBors, with all their fellowship of 10,000 men, were led to ambush in this\nwood ere daylight, and stir not therefrom until the battle hath been long\nwaged. And thou, Lord Arthur, at the spring of day draw forth thine army\nbefore the enemy, and dress the battle so that they may at once see all\nthy host, for they will be the more rash and hardy when they see you have\nbut 20,000 men.\"\n\nTo this the three knights and the barons heartily consented, and it was\ndone as Merlin had devised. So on the morrow when the hosts beheld each\nother, the host of the north was greatly cheered to find so few led out\nagainst them.\n\nThen gave King Arthur the command to Sir Ulfius and Sir Brastias to take\n3000 men-at-arms, and to open battle. They therefore setting fiercely on\nthe enemy slew them on the right hand and the left till it was wonderful\nto see their slaughter.\n\nWhen the eleven kings beheld so small a band doing such mighty deeds of\narms they were ashamed, and charged them fiercely in return. Then was Sir\nUlfius' horse slain under him; but he fought well and marvellously on foot\nagainst Duke Eustace and King Clarience, who set upon him grievously, till\nSir Brastias, seeing his great peril, pricked towards them swiftly, and so\nsmote the duke through with his spear that horse and man fell down and\nrolled over. Whereat King Clarience turned upon Sir Brastias, and rushing\nfuriously together they each unhorsed the other and fell both to the\nground, and there lay a long time stunned, their horses' knees being cut\nto the bone. Then came Sir Key the seneschal with six companions, and did\nwondrous well, till the eleven kings went out against them and overthrew\nSir Griflet and Sir Lucas the butler. And when Sir Key saw Sir Griflet\nunhorsed and on foot, he rode against King Nanters hotly and smote him\ndown, and led his horse to Griflet and horsed him again; with the same\nspear did Sir Key smite down King Lot and wounded him full sore.\n\nBut seeing that, the King of the Hundred Knights rushed at Sir Key and\noverthrew him in return, and took his horse and gave it to King Lot. And\nwhen Sir Griflet saw Sir Key's mischance, he set his spear in rest, and\nriding at a mighty man-at-arms, he cast him down headlong and caught his\nhorse and led it straightway to Sir Key.\n\nBy now the battle was growing perilous and hard, and both sides fought\nwith rage and fury. And Sir Ulfius and Sir Brastias were both afoot and\nin great danger of their death, and foully stained and trampled under\nhorses' feet. Then King Arthur, putting spurs to his horse, rushed forward\nlike a lion into the midst of all the _m\u00eal\u00e9e_, and singling out King\nCradlemont of North Wales, smote him through the left side and overthrew\nhim, and taking his horse by the rein he brought it to Sir Ulfius in haste\nand said, \"Take this horse, mine old friend, for thou hast great need of\none, and charge by side of me.\" And even as he spoke he saw Sir Ector, Sir\nKey's father, smitten to the earth by the King of the Hundred Knights, and\nhis horse taken to King Cradlemont.\n\nBut when King Arthur saw him ride upon Sir Ector's horse his wrath was\nvery great, and with his sword he smote King Cradlemont upon the helm, and\nshore off the fourth part thereof and of the shield, and drave the sword\nonward to the horse's neck and slew the horse, and hurled the king upon\nthe ground.\n\nAnd now the battle waxed so great and furious that all the noise and sound\nthereof rang out by water and by wood, so that Kings Ban and Bors, with\nall their knights and men-at-arms in ambush, hearing the tumult and the\ncries, trembled and shook for eagerness, and scarce could stay in secret,\nbut made them ready for the fray and dressed their shields and harness.\n\nBut when King Arthur saw the fury of the enemy, he raged like a mad lion,\nand stirred and drove his horse now here, now there, to the right hand and\nto the left, and stayed not in his wrath till he had slain full twenty\nknights. He wounded also King Lot so sorely in the shoulder that he left\nthe field, and in great pain and dolour cried out to the other kings, \"Do\nye as I devise, or we shall be destroyed. I, with the King of the Hundred\nKnights, King Anguisant, King Yder, and the Duke of Cambinet, will take\nfifteen thousand men and make a circuit, meanwhile that ye do hold the\nbattle with twelve thousand. Then coming suddenly we will fall fiercely on\nthem from behind and put them to the rout, but else shall we never stand\nagainst them.\"\n\nSo Lot and four kings departed with their party to one side, and the six\nother kings dressed their ranks against King Arthur and fought long and\nstoutly.\n\nBut now Kings Ban and Bors, with all their army fresh and eager, broke\nfrom their ambush and met face to face the five kings and their host as\nthey came round behind, and then began a frantic struggle with breaking of\nspears and clashing of swords and slaying of men and horses. Anon King\nLot, espying in the midst King Bors, cried out in great dismay, \"Our Lady\nnow defend us from our death and fearful wounds; our peril groweth great,\nfor yonder cometh one of the worshipfullest kings and best knights in all\nthe world.\"\n\n\"Who is he?\" said the King of the Hundred Knights.\n\n\"It is King Bors of Gaul,\" replied King Lot, \"and much I marvel how he may\nhave come with all his host into this land without our knowledge.\"\n\n\"Aha!\" cried King Carados, \"I will encounter with this king if ye will\nrescue me when there is need.\"\n\n\"Ride on,\" said they.\n\nSo King Carados and all his host rode softly till they came within a\nbow-shot of King Bors, and then both hosts, spurring their horses to their\ngreatest swiftness, rushed at each other. And King Bors encountered in\nthe onset with a knight, and struck him through with a spear, so that he\nfell dead upon the earth; then drawing his sword, he did such mighty feats\nof arms that all who saw him gazed with wonder. Anon King Ban came also\nforth upon the field with all his knights, and added yet more fury, sound,\nand slaughter, till at length both hosts of the eleven kings began to\nquake, and drawing all together into one body, they prepared to meet the\nworst, while a great multitude already fled.\n\nThen said King Lot, \"Lords, we must take yet other means, or worse loss\nstill awaits us. See ye not what people we have lost in waiting on the\nfootmen, and that it costs ten horsemen to save one of them? Therefore it\nis my counsel to put away our footmen from us, for it is almost night, and\nKing Arthur will not stay to slaughter them. So they can save their lives\nin this great wood hard by. Then let us gather into one band all the\nhorsemen that remain, and whoso breaketh rank or leaveth us, let him be\nstraightway slain by him that seeth him, for it is better that we slay a\ncoward than through a coward be all slain. How say ye?\" said King Lot;\n\"answer me, all ye kings.\"\n\n\"It is well said,\" replied they all.\n\nAnd swearing they would never fail each other, they mended and set right\ntheir armour and their shields, and took new spears and set them\nsteadfastly against their thighs, waiting, and so stood still as a clump\nof trees stands on the plain; and no assaults could shake them, they held\nso hard together; which when King Arthur saw he marvelled greatly, and was\nvery wroth. \"Yet,\" cried he, \"I may not blame them, by my faith, for they\ndo as brave men ought to do, and are the best fighting men and knights of\nmost prowess that I ever saw or heard tell of.\" And so said also Kings Ban\nand Bors, and praised them greatly for their noble chivalry.\n\nBut now came forty noble knights out of King Arthur's host, and prayed\nthat he would suffer them to break the enemy. And when they were allowed,\nthey rode forth with their spears upon their thighs, and spurred their\nhorses to their hottest. Then the eleven kings, with a party of their\nknights, rushed with set spears as fast and mightily to meet them; and\nwhen they were encountered, all the crash and splinter of their spears and\narmour rang with a mighty din, and so fierce and bloody was their onset\nthat in all that day there had been no such cruel press, and rage, and\nsmiting. At that same moment rode fiercely into the thickest of the\nstruggle King Arthur and Kings Ban and Bors, and slew downright on both\nhands right and left, until their horses went in blood up to the fetlocks.\n\nAnd while the slaughter and the noise and shouting were at their greatest,\nsuddenly there came down through the battle Merlin the Wizard, upon a\ngreat black horse, and riding to King Arthur, he cried out, \"Alas, my\nLord! will ye have never done? Of sixty thousand have ye left but fifteen\nthousand men alive. Is it not time to stay this slaying? for God is ill\npleased with ye that ye have never ended, and yonder kings shall not be\naltogether overthrown this time. But if ye fall upon them any more, the\nfortune of this day will turn, and go to them. Withdraw, Lord, therefore,\nto thy lodging, and there now take thy rest, for to-day thou hast won a\ngreat victory, and overcome the noblest chivalry of all the world. And now\nfor many years those kings shall not disturb thee. Therefore, I tell\nthee, fear them no more, for now they are sore beaten, and have nothing\nleft them but their honour; and why shouldest thou slay them to take\nthat?\"\n\nThen said King Arthur, \"Thou sayest well, and I will take thy counsel.\"\nWith that he cried out, \"Ho!\" for the battle to cease, and sent forth\nheralds through the field to stay more fighting. And gathering all the\nspoil, he gave it not amongst his own host, but to Kings Ban and Bors and\nall their knights and men-at-arms, that he might treat them with the\ngreater courtesy as strangers.\n\nThen Merlin took his leave of Arthur and the two other kings, and went to\nsee his master, Blaise, a holy hermit, dwelling in Northumberland, who had\nnourished him through all his youth. And Blaise was passing glad to see\nhim, for there was a great love ever between them; and Merlin told him how\nKing Arthur had sped in the battle, and how it had ended; and told him the\nnames of every king and knight of worship who was there. So Blaise wrote\ndown the battle, word for word, as Merlin told him; and in the same way\never after, all the battles of King Arthur's days Merlin caused Blaise,\nhis master, to record.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\n_The Adventure of the Questing Beast--King Arthur drives the Saxons from\nthe Realm--The Battles of Celidon Forest and Badon Hill_\n\n\nAnon, thereafter, came word to King Arthur that Ryence, King of North\nWales, was making war upon King Leodegrance of Camelgard; whereat he was\npassing wroth, for he loved Leodegrance well, and hated Ryence. So he\ndeparted with Kings Ban and Bors and twenty thousand men, and came to\nCamelgard, and rescued Leodegrance, and slew ten thousand of Ryence's men\nand put him to flight. Then Leodegrance made a great festival to the three\nkings, and treated them with every manner of mirth and pleasure which\ncould be devised. And there had King Arthur the first sight of Guinevere,\ndaughter of Leodegrance, whom in the end he married, as shall be told\nhereafter.\n\nThen did Kings Ban and Bors take leave, and went to their own country,\nwhere King Claudas worked great mischief. And King Arthur would have gone\nwith them, but they refused him, saying, \"Nay, ye shall not at this time,\nfor ye have yet much to do in these lands of your own; and we with the\nriches we have won here by your gifts shall hire many good knights, and,\nby the grace of God, withstand the malice of King Claudas; and if we have\nneed we will send to ye for succour; and likewise ye, if ye have need,\nsend for us, and we will not tarry, by the faith of our bodies.\"\n\nWhen the two kings had left, King Arthur rode to Caerleon, and thither\ncame to him his half-sister Belisent, wife to King Lot, sent as a\nmessenger, but in truth to espy his power; and with her came a noble\nretinue, and also her four sons--Gawain, Gaheris, Agravaine, and Gareth.\nBut when she saw King Arthur and his nobleness, and all the splendour of\nhis knights and service, she forbore to spy upon him as a foe, and told\nhim of her husband's plots against him and his throne. And the king, not\nknowing that she was his half-sister, made great court to her; and being\nfull of admiration for her beauty, loved her out of measure, and kept her\na long season at Caerleon. Wherefore her husband, King Lot, was more than\never King Arthur's enemy, and hated him till death with a passing great\nhatred.\n\nAt that time King Arthur had a marvellous dream, which gave him great\ndisquietness of heart. He dreamed that the whole land was full of many\nfiery griffins and serpents, which burnt and slew the people everywhere;\nand then that he himself fought with them, and that they did him mighty\ninjuries, and wounded him nigh to death, but that at last he overcame and\nslew them all. When he woke, he sat in great heaviness of spirit and\npensiveness, thinking what this dream might signify, but by-and-by, when\nhe could by no means satisfy himself what it might mean, to rid himself of\nall his thoughts of it, he made ready with a great company to ride out\nhunting.\n\nAs soon as he was in the forest, the king saw a great hart before him, and\nspurred his horse, and rode long eagerly after it, and chased until his\nhorse lost breath and fell down dead from under him. Then, seeing the hart\nescaped and his horse dead, he sat down by a fountain, and fell into deep\nthought again. And as he sat there alone, he thought he heard the noise of\nhounds, as it were some thirty couple in number, and looking up he saw\ncoming towards him the strangest beast that ever he had seen or heard tell\nof, which ran towards the fountain and drank of the water. Its head was\nlike a serpent's, with a leopard's body and a lion's tail, and it was\nfooted like a stag; and the noise was in its belly, as it were the baying\nor questing of thirty couple of hounds. While it drank there was no noise\nwithin it; but presently, having finished, it departed with a greater\nsound than ever.\n\nThe king was amazed at all this; but being greatly wearied, he fell\nasleep, and was before long waked up by a knight on foot, who said,\n\"Knight, full of thought and sleepy, tell me if thou sawest a strange\nbeast pass this way?\"\n\n\"Such a one I saw,\" said King Arthur to the knight, \"but that is now two\nmiles distant at the least. What would you with that beast?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the knight, \"I have followed it for a long time, and have\nkilled my horse, and would to heaven I had another to pursue my quest\nwithal.\"\n\nAt that moment came a yeoman with another horse for the king, which, when\nthe knight saw, he earnestly prayed to be given him. \"For I have followed\nthis quest,\" said he, \"twelve months, and either I shall achieve him or\nbleed of the best blood of my body.\"\n\nIt was King Pellinore who at that time followed the questing beast, but\nneither he nor King Arthur knew each other.\n\n\"Sir Knight,\" said King Arthur, \"leave that quest and suffer me to have\nit, and I will follow it other twelve months.\"\n\n\"Ah, fool,\" said the knight, \"thy desire is utterly in vain, for it shall\nnever be achieved but by me, or by my next of kin.\"\n\nTherewith he started to the king's horse, and mounted to the saddle,\ncrying out, \"Grammercy, this horse is mine!\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the king, \"thou mayest take my horse by force, and I will not\nsay nay; but till we prove whether thou or I be best on horseback, I shall\nnot rest content.\"\n\n\"Seek me here,\" said the knight, \"whenever thou wilt, and here by this\nfountain thou shalt find me;\" and so he passed forth on his way.\n\nThen sat King Arthur in a deep fit of study, and bade his yeomen fetch him\nyet another horse as quickly as they could. And when they left him all\nalone came Merlin, disguised as a child of fourteen years of age, and\nsaluted the king, and asked him why he was so pensive and heavy.\n\n\"I may well be pensive and heavy,\" he replied, \"for here even now I have\nseen the strangest sight I ever saw.\"\n\n\"That know I well,\" said Merlin, \"as well as thyself, and also all thy\nthoughts; but thou art foolish to take thought, for it will not amend\nthee. Also I know what thou art, and know thy father and thy mother.\"\n\n\"That is false,\" said King Arthur; \"how shouldst thou know? thy years are\nnot enough.\"\n\n\"Yea,\" said Merlin, \"but I know better than thou how thou wast born, and\nbetter than any man living.\"\n\n\"I will not believe thee,\" said King Arthur, and was wroth with the child.\n\nSo Merlin departed, and came again in the likeness of an old man of\nfourscore years of age; and the king was glad at his coming, for he seemed\nwise and venerable. Then said the old man, \"Why art thou so sad?\"\n\n\"For divers reasons,\" said King Arthur; \"for I have seen strange things\nto-day, and but this moment there was here a child who told me things\nbeyond his years to know.\"\n\n\"Yea,\" said the old man, \"but he told thee truth, and more he would have\ntold thee hadst thou suffered him. But I will tell thee wherefore thou art\nsad, for thou hast done a thing of late for which God is displeased with\nthee, and what it is thou knowest in thy heart, though no man else may\nknow.\"\n\n\"What art thou,\" said King Arthur, starting up all pale, \"that tellest me\nthese tidings?\"\n\n\"I am Merlin,\" said he, \"and I was he in the child's likeness, also.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said King Arthur, \"thou art a marvellous and right fearful man, and\nI would ask and tell thee many things this day.\"\n\nAs they talked came one with the king's horses, and so, King Arthur\nmounting one, and Merlin another, they rode together to Caerleon; and\nMerlin prophesied to Arthur of his death, and also foretold his own end.\n\nAnd now King Arthur, having utterly dispersed and overwhelmed those kings\nwho had so long delayed his coronation, turned all his mind to overthrow\nthe Saxon heathens who yet in many places spoiled the land. Calling\ntogether, therefore, his knights and men-at-arms, he rode with all his\nhosts to York, where Colgrin, the Saxon, lay with a great army; and there\nhe fought a mighty battle, long and bloody, and drove him into the city,\nand besieged him. Then Baldulph, Colgrin's brother, came secretly with six\nthousand men to assail King Arthur and to raise the siege. But King Arthur\nwas aware of him, and sent six hundred horsemen and three thousand foot to\nmeet and fall on him instead. This therefore they did, encountering them\nat midnight, and utterly defeated them, till they fled away for life. But\nBaldulph, full of grief, resolved to share his brother's peril; wherefore\nhe shaved his head and beard, and disguised himself as a jester, and so\npassed through King Arthur's camp, singing and playing on a harp, till by\ndegrees he drew near to the city walls, where presently he made himself\nknown, and was drawn up by ropes into the town.\n\nAnon, while Arthur closely watched the city, came news that full six\nhundred ships had landed countless swarms of Saxons, under Cheldric, on\nthe eastern coast. At that he raised the siege, and marched straight to\nLondon, and there increased his army, and took counsel with his barons how\nto drive the Saxons from the land for evermore.\n\nThen with his nephew, Hoel, King of the Armorican Britons, who came with a\ngreat force to help him, King Arthur, with a mighty multitude of barons,\nknights, and fighting men, went swiftly up to Lincoln, which the Saxons\nlay besieging. And there he fought a passing fierce battle, and made\ngrievous slaughter, killing above six thousand men, till the main body of\nthem turned and fled. But he pursued them hotly into the wood of Celidon,\nwhere, sheltering themselves among the trees from his arrows, they made a\nstand, and for a long season bravely defended themselves. Anon, he ordered\nall the trees in that part of the forest to be cut down, leaving no\nshelter or ambush; and with their trunks and branches made a mighty\nbarricade, which shut them in and hindered their escape. After three days,\nbrought nigh to death by famine, they offered to give up their wealth of\ngold and silver spoils, and to depart forthwith in their empty ships;\nmoreover, to pay tribute to King Arthur when they reached their home, and\nto leave him hostages till all was paid.\n\nThis offer, therefore, he accepted, and suffered them to depart. But when\nthey had been a few hours at sea, they repented of their shameful flight,\nand turned their ships back again, and landing at Totnes, ravaged all the\nland as far as the Severn, and, burning and slaying on all sides, bent\ntheir steps towards Bath.\n\nWhen King Arthur heard of their treachery and their return, he burned with\nanger till his eyes shone like two torches, and then he swore a mighty\noath to rest no more until he had utterly destroyed those enemies of God\nand man, and had rooted them for ever out of the land of Britain. Then\nmarching hotly with his armies on to Bath, he cried aloud to them, \"Since\nthese detestable impious heathens disdain to keep their faith with me, to\nkeep faith with God, to whom I sware to cherish and defend this realm,\nwill now this day avenge on them the blood of all that they have slain in\nBritain!\"\n\nIn like manner after him spoke the archbishop, standing upon a hill, and\ncrying that to-day they should fight both for their country and for\nParadise, \"For whoso,\" he said, \"shall in this holy war be slain, the\nangels shall forthwith receive him; for death in this cause shall be\npenance and absolution for all sins.\"\n\nAt these words every man in the whole army raged with hatred, and pressed\neagerly to rush upon those savages.\n\nAnon King Arthur, dressed in armour shining with gold and jewels, and\nwearing on his head a helmet with a golden dragon, took a shield painted\nwith the likeness of the blessed Mary. Then girding on Excalibur and\ntaking in his right hand his great lance Ron, he placed his men in order\nand led them out against the enemy, who stood for battle on the slope of\nBadon Hill, ranged in the form of a wedge, as their custom was. And they,\nresisting all the onslaughts of King Arthur and his host, made that day a\nstout defence, and at night lay down upon the hill.\n\nBut on the next day Arthur led his army once again to the attack, and with\nwounds and slaughter such as no man had ever seen before, he drove the\nheathen step by step before him, backwards and upwards, till he stood with\nall his noblest knights upon the summit of the hill.\n\nAnd then men saw him, \"red as the rising sun from spur to plume,\" lift up\nhis sword, and, kneeling, kiss the cross of it; and after, rising to his\nfeet, set might and main with all his fellowship upon the foe, till, as a\ntroop of lions roaring for their prey, they drove them like a scattered\nherd along the plains, and cut them down till they could cut no more for\nweariness.\n\nThat day King Arthur by himself alone slew with his word Excalibur four\nhundred and seventy heathens. Colgrin also, and his brother Baldulph, were\nslain.\n\nThen the king bade Cador, Duke of Cornwall, follow Cheldric, the chief\nleader, and the remnant of his hosts, unto the uttermost. He, therefore,\nwhen he had first seized their fleet, and filled it with chosen men, to\nbeat them back when they should fly to it at last, chased them and slew\nthem without mercy so long as he could overtake them. And though they\ncrept with trembling hearts for shelter to the coverts of the woods and\ndens of mountains, yet even so they found no safety, for Cador slew them,\neven one by one. Last of all he caught and slew Cheldric himself, and\nslaughtering a great multitude took hostages for the surrender of the\nrest.\n\nMeanwhile, King Arthur turned from Badon Hill, and freed his nephew Hoel\nfrom the Scots and Picts, who besieged him in Alclud. And when he had\ndefeated them in three sore battles, he drove them before him to a lake,\nwhich was one of the most wondrous lakes in all the world, for it was fed\nby sixty rivers, and had sixty islands, and sixty rocks, and on every\nisland sixty eagles' nests. But King Arthur with a great fleet sailed\nround the rivers and besieged them in the lake for fifteen days, so that\nmany thousands died of hunger.\n\nAnon the King of Ireland came with an army to relieve them; but Arthur,\nturning on him fiercely, routed him, and compelled him to retreat in\nterror to his land. Then he pursued his purpose, which was no less to\ndestroy the race of Picts and Scots, who, beyond memory, had been a\nceaseless torment to the Britons by their barbarous malice.\n\nSo bitterly, therefore, did he treat them, giving quarter to none, that at\nlength the bishops of that miserable country with the clergy met together,\nand, bearing all the holy relics, came barefooted to the king to pray his\nmercy for their people. As soon as they were led before him they fell down\nupon their knees, and piteously besought him to spare the few survivors of\ntheir countrymen, and grant them any corner of the land where they might\nlive in peace. When he thus heard them, and knew that he had now fully\npunished them, he consented to their prayer, and withdrew his hosts from\nany further slaughter.\n\nThen turned he back to his own realm, and came to York for Christmas, and\nthere with high solemnity observed that holy tide; and being passing\ngrieved to see the ruin of the churches and houses, which the rage or the\npagans had destroyed, he rebuilt them, and restored the city to its\nancient happy state.\n\nAnd on a certain day, as the king sat with his barons, there came into the\ncourt a squire on horseback, carrying a knight before him wounded to the\ndeath, and told the king that hard by in the forest was a knight who had\nreared up a pavilion by the fountain, \"and hath slain my master, a valiant\nknight, whose name was Nirles; wherefore I beseech thee, Lord, my master\nmay be buried, and that some good knight may avenge his death.\"\n\nAt that stepped forth a squire named Griflet, who was very young, being of\nthe same age with King Arthur, and besought the king, for all the service\nhe had done, to give him knighthood.\n\n\"Thou art full young and tender of age,\" said King Arthur, \"to take so\nhigh an order upon thee.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Griflet, \"I beseech thee make me a knight;\" and Merlin also\nadvising the king to grant his request, \"Well,\" said Arthur, \"be it then\nso,\" and knighted him forthwith. Then said he to him, \"Since I have\ngranted thee this favour, thou must in turn grant me a gift.\"\n\n\"Whatsoever thou wilt, my lord,\" replied Sir Griflet.\n\n\"Promise me,\" said King Arthur, \"by the faith of thy body, that when thou\nhast jousted with this knight at the fountain, thou wilt return to me\nstraightway, unless he slay thee.\"\n\n\"I promise,\" said Sir Griflet; and taking his horse in haste, he dressed\nhis shield, and took a spear in his hand and rode full gallop till he came\nto the fountain, by the side of which he saw a rich pavilion, and a great\nhorse standing well saddled and bridled, and on a tree close by there hung\na shield of many colours and a long lance.\n\nThen Sir Griflet smote upon the shield with the butt of his spear until he\ncast it to the ground. At that a knight came out of the pavilion and said,\n\"Fair knight, why smote ye down my shield?\"\n\n\"Because,\" said Griflet, \"I would joust with thee.\"\n\n\"It were better not,\" replied the knight; \"for thou art young and but\nlately made a knight, and thy strength is small compared to mine.\"\n\n\"For all that,\" said Sir Griflet, \"I will joust with ye.\"\n\n\"I am full loath,\" replied the knight; \"but if I must I must.\"\n\nThen did they wheel their horses far apart, and running them together,\nthe strange knight shivered Sir Griflet's spear to fragments, and smote\nhim through the shield and the left side, and broke his own spear into Sir\nGriflet's body, so that the truncheon stuck there, and Sir Griflet and his\nhorse fell down. But when the strange knight saw him overthrown, he was\nsore grieved, and hastily alighted, for he thought that he had slain him.\nThen he unlaced his helm and gave him air, and tended him carefully till\nhe came out of his swoon, and leaving the truncheon of his spear in his\nbody, he set him upon horse, and commended him to God, and said he had a\nmighty heart, and if he lived would prove a passing good knight. And so\nSir Griflet rode to the court, where, by aid of good physicians, he was\nhealed in time and his life saved.\n\nAt that same time there came before the king twelve old men, ambassadors\nfrom Lucius Tiberius, Emperor of Rome, and demanded of Arthur tribute unto\nCaesar for his realm, or else, said they, the emperor would destroy both\nhim and his land. To whom King Arthur answered that he owed the emperor no\ntribute, nor would send him any; but said he, \"On a fair field I will pay\nhim his proper tribute--with a sharp spear and sword; and by my father's\nsoul that tribute shall he take from me, whether he will or not.\" So the\nambassadors departed passing wroth, and King Arthur was as wroth as they.\n\nBut on the morrow of Sir Griflet's hurt, the king commanded to take his\nhorse and armour secretly outside the city walls before sunrise of the\nnext morning, and, rising a long while before dawn, he mounted up and took\nhis shield and spear, and bade his chamberlain tarry till he came again;\nbut he forbore to take Excalibur, for he had given it for safety into\ncharge of his sister, Queen Morgan le Fay. And as the king rode at a soft\npace he saw suddenly three villains chasing Merlin and making to attack\nand slay him. Clapping spurs to his horse, he rushed towards them, and\ncried out in a terrible voice, \"Flee, churls, or take your deaths;\" but\nthey, as soon as they perceived a knight, fled away with the haste of\nhares.\n\n\"O Merlin,\" said the king; \"here hadst thou been killed, despite thy many\ncrafts, had I not chanced to pass.\"\n\n\"Not so,\" said Merlin, \"for when I would, I could have saved myself; but\nthou art nearer to thy death than I, for without special help from heaven\nthou ridest now towards thy grave.\"\n\nAnd as they were thus talking, they came to the fountain and the rich\npavilion pitched beside it, and saw a knight sitting all armed on a chair\nin the opening of the tent. \"Sir knight,\" said King Arthur, \"for what\ncause abidest thou here? to joust with any knight that passeth by? If so,\nI caution thee to quit that custom.\"\n\n\"That custom,\" said the knight, \"have I followed and will follow, let\nwhosoever will say nay, and if any is aggrieved at it, let him who will\namend it.\"\n\n\"I will amend it,\" said King Arthur.\n\n\"And I will defend it,\" answered the knight.\n\nThen the knight mounted his horse and made himself ready, and charging at\neach other they met so hard that both their lances splintered into pieces.\nThen King Arthur drew his sword, but the knight cried out, \"Not so; but\nlet us run another tilt together with sharp spears.\"\n\n\"I would with a good will,\" said King Arthur; \"but I have no more spears.\"\n\n\"I have enough of spears,\" replied the knight, and called a squire, who\nbrought two good new lances.\n\nThen spurring their horses, they rushed together with all their might, and\nbroke each one his own spear short off in his hand. Then the king again\nput his hand to his sword, but the knight once more cried out, \"Nay, yet\nabide awhile; ye are the best jouster that I ever met with; for the love\nof knighthood, let us joust yet once again.\"\n\nSo once again they tilted with their fullest force, and this time King\nArthur's spear was shivered, but the knight's held whole, and drove so\nfuriously against the king that both his horse and he were hurled to the\nground.\n\nAt that, King Arthur was enraged and drew his sword and said, \"I will\nattack thee now, Sir knight, on foot, for on horseback I have lost the\nhonour.\"\n\n\"I will be on horseback,\" said the knight. But when he saw him come on\nfoot, he lighted from his horse, thinking it shame to have so great\nadvantage.\n\nAnd then began they a strong battle, with many great strokes and grievous\nblows, and so hewed with their swords that the fragments of their armour\nflew about the fields, and both so bled that all the ground around was\nlike a marsh of blood. Thus they fought long and mightily, and anon, after\nbrief rest fell to again, and so hurtled together like two wild boars that\nthey both rolled to the ground. At last their swords clashed furiously\ntogether, and the knight's sword shivered the king's in two.\n\nThen said the knight, \"Now art thou in my power, to save thee or to slay.\nYield therefore as defeated, and a recreant knight, or thou shall surely\ndie.\"\n\n\"As for death,\" replied King Arthur, \"welcome be it when it cometh; but as\nfor yielding me to thee as a recreant because of this poor accident upon\nmy sword, I had far liefer die than be so shamed.\"\n\nSo saying, he sprang on the knight, and took him by the middle and threw\nhim down, and tore off his helm. But the knight, being a huge man,\nwrestled and struggled in a frenzy with the king until he brought him\nunder, and tore off his helm in turn, and would have smitten off his head.\n\nAt that came Merlin and said, \"Knight, hold thy hand, for if thou slayest\nyonder knight, thou puttest all this realm to greater loss and damage than\never realm was in; for he is a man of greater worship than thou dreamest\nof.\"\n\n\"Who then is he?\" cried the knight.\n\n\"Arthur Pendragon!\" answered Merlin.\n\nThen would he have slain him for dread of his wrath, but Merlin cast a\nspell upon the knight, so that he fell suddenly to the earth in a deep\nsleep. Then raising up the king, he took the knight's horse for himself\nand rode away.\n\n\"Alas,\" said King Arthur, \"what hast thou done, Merlin? hast thou slain\nthis good knight by thy crafts? There never lived a better knight; I had\nrather lose my kingdom for a year than have him dead.\"\n\n\"Be not afraid,\" said Merlin; \"he is more whole and sound than thou art,\nand is but in a sleep, wherefrom in three hours' time he will awake. I\ntold thee what a knight he was, and how near thou wast to death. There\nliveth not a better knight than he in all the world, and hereafter he\nshall do thee good service. His name is King Pellinore, and he shall have\ntwo sons, who shall be passing valiant men, and, save one another, shall\nhave no equal in prowess and in purity of life. The one shall be named\nPercival, and the other Lamoracke of Wales.\"\n\nSo they rode on to Caerleon, and all the knights grieved greatly when they\nheard of this adventure, that the king would jeopardise his person thus\nalone. Yet could they not hide their joy at serving under such a noble\nchief, who adventured his own life as much as did the poorest knight among\nthem all.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n_King Arthur Conquers Ireland and Norway, Slays the Giant of St. Michael's\nMount, and Conquers Gaul--The Adventures of Sir Balin_\n\n\nThe land of Britain being now in peace, and many great and valiant knights\ntherein ready to take part in whatsoever battles or adventures might\narise, King Arthur resolved to follow all his enemies to their own coasts.\nAnon he fitted out a great fleet, and sailing first to Ireland, in one\nbattle he miserably routed the people of the country. The King of Ireland\nalso he took prisoner, and forced all earls and barons to pay him homage.\n\nHaving conquered Ireland, he went next to Iceland and subdued it also, and\nthe winter being then arrived, returned to Britain.\n\nIn the next year he set forth to Norway, whence many times the heathen had\ndescended on the British coasts; for he was determined to give so terrible\na lesson to those savages as should be told through all their tribes both\nfar and near, and make his name fearful to them.\n\nAs soon as he was come, Riculf, the king, with all the power of that\ncountry, met and gave him battle; but, after mighty slaughter, the Britons\nhad at length the advantage, and slew Riculf and a countless multitude\nbesides.\n\nHaving thus defeated them, they set the cities on fire, dispersed the\ncountry people, and pursued the victory till they had reduced all Norway,\nas also Dacia, under the dominion of King Arthur.\n\nNow, therefore, having thus chastised those pagans who so long had\nharassed Britain, and put his yoke upon them, he voyaged on to Gaul, being\nsteadfastly set upon defeating the Roman governor of that province, and so\nbeginning to make good the threats which he had sent the emperor by his\nambassadors.\n\nSo soon as he was landed on the shores of Gaul, there came to him a\ncountryman who told him of a fearful giant in the land of Brittany, who\nhad slain, murdered, and devoured many people, and had lived for seven\nyears upon young children only, \"insomuch,\" said the man, \"that all the\nchildren of the country are destroyed; and but the other day he seized\nupon our duchess, as she rode out with her men, and took her away to his\nlodging in a cave of a mountain, and though five hundred people followed\nher, yet could they give her no help or rescue, but left her shrieking and\ncrying lamentably in the giant's hands; and, Lord, she is thy cousin\nHoel's wife, who is of thy near kindred; wherefore, as thou art a rightful\nking, have pity on this lady; and as thou art a valiant conqueror, avenge\nus and deliver us.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said King Arthur, \"this is a great mischief that ye tell of. I had\nrather than the best realm I have, that I had rescued that lady ere the\ngiant laid his hand on her; but tell me now, good fellow, canst thou bring\nme where this giant haunteth?\"\n\n\"Yea, Lord!\" replied the man; \"lo, yonder, where thou seest two great\nfires, there shall thou find him, and more treasure also than is in all\nGaul besides.\"\n\nThen the king returned to his tent, and, calling Sir Key and Sir Bedwin,\ndesired them to get horses ready for himself and them, for that after\nevensong he would ride a pilgrimage with them alone to St. Michael's\nMount. So in the evening they departed, and rode as fast as they could\ntill they came near the mount, and there alighted; and the king commanded\nthe two knights to await him at the hill foot, while he went up alone.\n\nThen he ascended the mountain till he came to a great fire. And there he\nfound a sorrowful widow wringing her hands and weeping miserably, sitting\nby a new-made grave. And saluting her, King Arthur prayed her wherefore\nshe made such heavy lamentations.\n\n\"Sir knight,\" she said, \"speak softly, for yonder is a devil, who, if he\nhear thy voice, will come and straightway slay thee. Alas! what dost thou\nhere? Fifty such men as thou were powerless to resist him. Here lieth dead\nmy lady, Duchess of Brittany, wife to Sir Hoel, who was the fairest lady\nin the world, foully and shamefully slaughtered by that fiend! Beware that\nthou go not too nigh, for he hath overcome and vanquished fifteen kings,\nand hath made himself a coat of precious stones, embroidered with their\nbeards; but if thou art hardy, and wilt speak with him, at yonder great\nfire he is at supper.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said King Arthur, \"I will accomplish mine errand, for all thy\nfearful words;\" and so went forth to the crest of the hill, and saw where\nthe giant sat at supper, gnawing on a limb of a man, and baking his huge\nframe by the fire, while three damsels turned three spits whereon were\nspitted, like larks, twelve young children lately born.\n\n[Illustration: The giant sat at supper, gnawing on a limb of a man, and\nbaking his huge frame by the fire.]\n\nWhen King Arthur saw all that, his heart bled for sorrow, and he trembled\nfor rage and indignation; then lifting up his voice he cried aloud--\"God,\nthat wieldeth all the world, give thee short life and shameful death, and\nmay the devil have thy soul! Why hast thou slain those children and that\nfair lady? Wherefore arise, and prepare thee to perish, thou glutton and\nfiend, for this day thou shalt die by my hands.\"\n\nThen the giant, mad with fury at these words, started up, and seizing a\ngreat club, smote the king, and struck his crown from off his head. But\nKing Arthur smote him with his sword so mightily in return, that all his\nblood gushed forth in streams.\n\nAt that the giant, howling in great anguish, threw away his club of iron,\nand caught the king in both his arms and strove to crush his ribs\ntogether. But King Arthur struggled and writhed, and twisted him about, so\nthat the giant could not hold him tightly; and as they fiercely wrestled,\nthey both fell, and rolling over one another, tumbled--wrestling, and\nstruggling, and fighting frantically--from rock to rock, till they came to\nthe sea.\n\nAnd as they tore and strove and tumbled, the king ever and anon smote at\nthe giant with his dagger, till his arms stiffened in death around King\nArthur's body, and groaning horribly, he died. So presently the two\nknights came and found the king locked fast in the giant's arms, and very\nfaint and weary, and loosed him from their hold.\n\nThen the king bade Sir Key to \"smite off the giant's head and set it on\nthe truncheon of a spear, and bear it to Sir Hoel, and tell him that his\nenemy is slain; and afterwards let it be fastened to the castle gate, that\nall the people may behold it. And go ye two up on the mountain and fetch\nme my shield and sword, and also the great club of iron ye will see there;\nand as for the treasure, ye shall find there wealth beyond counting, but\ntake as much as ye will, for if I have his kirtle and the club, I desire\nno more.\"\n\nThen the knights fetched the club and kirtle, as the king had ordered, and\ntook the treasure to themselves, as much as they could carry, and returned\nto the army. But when this deed was noised abroad, all the people came in\nmultitudes to thank the king, who told them \"to give thanks to God, and to\ndivide the giant's spoils amongst them equally.\" And King Arthur desired\nSir Hoel to build a church upon the mount, and dedicate it to the\nArchangel Michael.\n\nOn the morrow, all the host moved onwards into the country of Champagne,\nand Flollo, the Roman tribune, retired before them into Paris. But while\nhe was preparing to collect more forces from the neighbouring countries,\nKing Arthur came upon him unawares, and besieged him in the town.\n\nAnd when a month had passed, Flollo--full of grief at the starvation of\nhis people, who died in hundreds day by day--sent to King Arthur, and\ndesired that they two might fight together; for he was a man of mighty\nstature and courage, and thought himself sure of the victory. This\nchallenge, King Arthur, full weary the siege, accepted with great joy, and\nsent back word to Flollo that he would meet him whensoever he appointed.\n\nAnd a truce being made on both sides, they met together the next day on\nthe island without the city, where all the people also were gathered to\nsee the issue. And as the king and Flollo rode up to the lists, each was\nso nobly armed and horsed, and sat so mightily upon his saddle, that no\nman could tell which way the battle would end.\n\nWhen they had saluted one another, and presented themselves against each\nother with their lances aloft, they put spurs to their horses and began a\nfierce encounter. But King Arthur, carrying his spear more warily, struck\nit on the upper part of Flollo's breast, and flung him from his saddle to\nthe earth. Then drawing his sword, he cried to him to rise, and rushed\nupon him; but Flollo, starting up, met him with his spear couched, and\npierced the breast of King Arthur's horse, and overthrew both horse and\nman.\n\nThe Britons, when they saw their king upon the ground, could scarcely keep\nthemselves from breaking up the truce and falling on the Gauls. But as\nthey were about to burst the barriers, and rush upon the lists, King\nArthur hastily arose, and, guarding himself with his shield, ran with\nspeed on Flollo. And now they renewed the assault with great rage, being\nsorely bent upon each other's death.\n\nAt length, Flollo, seizing his advantage, gave King Arthur a huge stroke\nupon the helm, which nigh overthrew him, and drew forth his blood in\nstreams.\n\nBut when King Arthur saw his armour and shield red with blood, he was\ninflamed with fury, and lifting up Excalibur on high, with all his might,\nhe struck straight through the helmet into Flollo's head, and smote it\ninto halves; and Flollo falling backwards, and tearing up the ground with\nhis spurs, expired.\n\nAs soon as this news spread, the citizens all ran together, and, opening\nthe gates, surrendered the city to the conqueror.\n\nAnd when he had overrun the whole province with his arms, and reduced it\neverywhere to subjection, he returned again to Britain, and held his court\nat Caerleon, with greater state than ever.\n\nAnon he invited thereto all the kings, dukes, earls, and barons, who owed\nhim homage, that he might treat them royally, and reconcile them to each\nother, and to his rule.\n\nAnd never was there a city more fit and pleasant for such festivals. For\non one side it was washed by a noble river, so that the kings and princes\nfrom the countries beyond sea might conveniently sail up to it; and on the\nother side, the beauty of the groves and meadows, and the stateliness and\nmagnificence of the royal palaces, with lofty gilded roofs, made it even\nrival the grandeur of Rome. It was famous also for two great and noble\nchurches, whereof one was built in honour of the martyr Julius, and\nadorned with a choir of virgins who had devoted themselves wholly to the\nservice of God; and the other, founded in memory of St. Aaron, his\ncompanion, maintained a convent of canons, and was the third metropolitan\nchurch of Britain. Besides, there was a college of two hundred\nphilosophers, learned in astronomy, and all the other sciences and arts.\n\nIn this place, therefore, full of such delights, King Arthur held his\ncourt, with many jousts and tournaments, and royal huntings, and rested\nfor a season after all his wars.\n\nAnd on a certain day there came into the court a messenger from Ryence,\nKing of North Wales, bearing this message from his master: That King\nRyence had discomfited eleven kings, and had compelled each one of them to\ncut off his beard; that he had trimmed a mantle with these beards, and\nlacked but one more beard to finish it; and that he therefore now sent for\nKing Arthur's beard, which he required of him forthwith, or else he would\nenter his lands and burn and slay, and never leave them till he had taken\nby force not his beard only, but his head also.\n\nWhen King Arthur heard these words he flushed all scarlet, and rising in\ngreat anger said, \"Well is it for thee that thou speakest another man's\nwords with thy lips, and not thine own. Thou hast said thy message, which\nis the most insolent and villainous that ever man heard sent to any king:\nnow hear my reply. My beard is yet too young to trim that mantle of thy\nmaster's with; yet, young although I be, I owe no homage either to him or\nany man--nor will ever owe. But, young although I be, I will have thy\nmaster's homage upon both his knees before this year be past, or else he\nshall lose his head, by the faith of my body, for this message is the\nshamefullest I ever heard speak of. I see well thy king hath never yet met\nwith a worshipful man; but tell that King Arthur will have his head or his\nworship right soon.\"\n\nThen the messenger departed, and Arthur, looking round upon his knights,\ndemanded of them if any there knew this King Ryence. \"Yea,\" answered Sir\nNoran, \"I know him well, and there be few better or stronger knights upon\na field than he; and he is passing proud and haughty in his heart;\nwherefore I doubt not, Lord, he will make war on thee with mighty power.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said King Arthur, \"I shall be ready for him, and that shall he\nfind.\"\n\nWhile the king thus spoke, there came into the hall a damsel having on a\nmantle richly furred, which she let fall and showed herself to be girded\nwith a noble sword. The king being surprised at this, said, \"Damsel,\nwherefore art thou girt with that sword, for it beseemeth thee not?\"\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"I will tell thee. This sword wherewith I am thus girt\ngives me great sorrow and encumbrance, for I may not be delivered from it\ntill I find a knight faithful and pure and true, strong of body and of\nvaliant deeds, without guile or treachery, who shall be able to draw it\nfrom its scabbard, which no man else can do. And I have but just now come\nfrom the court of King Ryence, for there they told me many great and good\nknights were to be ever found; but he and all his knights have tried to\ndraw it forth in vain--for none of them can move it.\"\n\n\"This is a great marvel,\" said King Arthur; \"I will myself try to draw\nforth this sword, not thinking in my heart that I am the best knight, but\nrather to begin and give example that all may try after me.\" Saying this,\nhe took the sword and pulled at it with all his might, but could not shake\nor move it.\n\n\"Thou needest not strive so hard, Lord,\" said the damsel, \"for whoever may\nbe able to pull it forth shall do so very easily.\" \"Thou sayest well,\"\nreplied the king, remembering how he had himself drawn forth the sword\nfrom the stone before St. Paul's. \"Now try ye, all my barons; but beware\nye be not stained with shame, or any treachery, or guile.\" And turning\naway his face from them, King Arthur mused full heavily of sins within his\nbreast he knew of, and which his failure brought to mind right sadly.\n\nThen all the barons present tried each after other, but could none of them\nsucceed; whereat the damsel greatly wept, and said, \"Alas, alas! I thought\nin this court to have found the best knight, without shame or treachery or\ntreason.\"\n\nNow by chance there was at that time a poor knight with King Arthur, who\nhad been prisoner at his court for half a year and more, charged with\nslaying unawares a knight who was a cousin of the king's. He was named\nBalin le Savage, and had been by the good offices of the barons delivered\nfrom prison, for he was of good and valiant address and gentle blood. He\nbeing secretly present at the court saw this adventure, and felt his heart\nrise high within him, and longed to try the sword as did the others; but\nbeing poor and poorly clad, he was ashamed to come forward in the press of\nknights and nobles. But in his heart he felt assured that he could do\nbetter--if Heaven willed--than any knight among them all.\n\nSo as the damsel left the king, he called to her and said, \"Damsel, I pray\nthee of thy courtesy, suffer me to try the sword as well as all these\nlords; for though I be but poorly clad, I feel assurance in my heart.\"\n\nThe damsel looking at him, saw in him a likely an honest man, but because\nof his poor garments could not think him to be any knight of worship, and\nsaid, \"Sir, there is no need to put me to any more pain or labour; why\nshouldst thou succeed where so many worthy ones have failed?\"\n\n\"Ah, fair lady,\" answered Balin, \"worthiness and brave deeds are not shown\nby fair raiment, but manhood and truth lie hid within the heart. There be\nmany worshipful knights unknown to all the people.\"\n\n\"By my faith, thou sayest truth,\" replied the damsel; \"try therefore, if\nthou wilt, what thou canst do.\"\n\nSo Balin took the sword by the girdle and hilt, and drew it lightly out,\nand looking on its workmanship and brightness, it pleased him greatly.\n\nBut the king and all the barons marvelled at Sir Balin's fortune, and many\nknights were envious of him, for, \"Truly,\" said the damsel, \"this is a\npassing good knight, and the best man I have ever found, and the most\nworshipfully free from treason, treachery, or villainy, and many wonders\nshall he achieve.\"\n\n\"Now, gentle and courteous knight,\" continued she, turning to Balin, \"give\nme the sword again.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Sir Balin, \"save it be taken from me by force, I shall\npreserve this sword for evermore.\"\n\n\"Thou art not wise,\" replied the damsel, \"to keep it from me; for if thou\nwilt do so, thou shalt slay with it the best friend thou hast, and the\nsword shall be thine destruction also.\"\n\n\"I will take whatever adventure God may send,\" said Balin; \"but the sword\nwill I keep, by the faith of my body.\"\n\n\"Thou will repent it shortly,\" said the damsel; \"I would take the sword\nfor thy sake rather than for mine for I am passing grieved and heavy for\nthy sake, who wilt not believe the peril I foretell thee.\" With that she\ndeparted, making great lamentation.\n\nThen Balin sent for his horse and armour, and took his leave of King\nArthur, who urged him to stay at his court. \"For,\" said he, \"I believe\nthat thou art displeased that I showed thee unkindness; blame me not\novermuch, for I was misinformed against thee, and knew not truly what a\nknight of worship thou art. Abide in this court with my good knights, and\nI will so advance thee that thou shalt be well pleased.\"\n\n\"God thank thee, Lord,\" said Balin, \"for no man can reward thy bounty and\nthy nobleness; but at this time I must needs depart, praying thee ever to\nhold me in thy favour.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said King Arthur, \"I am grieved for thy departure; but tarry not\nlong, and thou shalt be right welcome to me and all my knights when thou\nreturnest, and I will repair my neglect and all that I have done amiss\nagainst thee.\"\n\n\"God thank thee, Lord,\" again said Balin, and made ready to depart.\n\nBut meanwhile came into the court a lady upon horseback, full richly\ndressed, and saluted King Arthur, and asked him for the gift that he had\npromised her when she gave him his sword Excalibur, \"for,\" said she, \"I am\nthe lady of the lake.\"\n\n\"Ask what thou wilt,\" said the king, \"and thou shalt have it, if I have\npower to give.\"\n\n\"I ask,\" said she, \"the head of that knight who hath just achieved the\nsword, or else the damsel's head who brought it, or else both; for the\nknight slew my brother, and the lady caused my father's death.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said King Arthur, \"I cannot grant thee this desire; it were\nagainst my nature and against my name; but ask whatever else thou wilt,\nand I will do it.\"\n\n\"I will demand no other thing,\" said she.\n\nAnd as she spake came Balin, on his way to leave the court, and saw her\nwhere she stood, and knew her straightway for his mother's murderess, whom\nhe had sought in vain three years. And when they told him that she had\nasked King Arthur for his head, he went up straight to her and said, \"May\nevil have thee! Thou desirest my head, therefore shalt thou lose thine;\"\nand with his sword he lightly smote her head off, in the presence of the\nking and all the court.\n\n\"Alas, for shame!\" cried out King Arthur, rising up in wrath; \"why hast\nthou done this, shaming both me and my court? I am beholden greatly to\nthis lady, and under my safe conduct came she here; thy deed is passing\nshameful; never shall I forgive thy villainy.\"\n\n\"Lord,\" cried Sir Balin, \"hear me; this lady was the falsest living, and\nby her witchcraft hath destroyed many, and caused my mother also to be\nburnt to death by her false arts and treachery.\"\n\n\"What cause soever thou mightest have had,\" said the king, \"thou shouldst\nhave forborne her in my presence. Deceive not thyself, thou shalt repent\nthis sin, for such a shame was never brought upon my court; depart now\nfrom my face with all the haste thou mayest.\"\n\nThen Balin took up the head of the lady and carried it to his lodgings,\nand rode forth with his squire from out the town. Then said he, \"Now must\nwe part; take ye this head and bear it to my friends in Northumberland,\nand tell them how I speed, and that our worst foe is dead; also tell them\nthat I am free from prison, and of the adventure of my sword.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said the squire, \"ye are greatly to blame to have so displeased\nKing Arthur.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said Sir Balin, \"I go now to find King Ryence, and destroy\nhim or lose my life; for should I take him prisoner, and lead him to the\ncourt, perchance King Arthur would forgive me, and become my good and\ngracious lord.\"\n\n\"Where shall I meet thee again?\" said the squire.\n\n\"In King Arthur's court,\" said Balin.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\n_Sir Balin Smites the Dolorous Stroke, and Fights with his Brother, Sir\nBalan_\n\n\nNow there was a knight at the court more envious than the others of Sir\nBalin, for he counted himself one of the best knights in Britain. His name\nwas Lancear; and going to the king, he begged leave to follow after Sir\nBalin and avenge the insult he had put upon the court. \"Do thy best,\"\nreplied the king, \"for I am passing wroth with Balin.\"\n\nIn the meantime came Merlin, and was told of this adventure of the sword\nand lady of the lake.\n\n\"Now hear me,\" said he, \"when I tell ye that this lady who hath brought\nthe sword is the falsest damsel living.\"\n\n\"Say not so,\" they answered, \"for she hath a brother a good knight, who\nslew another knight this damsel loved; so she, to be revenged upon her\nbrother, went to the Lady Lile, of Avilion, and besought her help. Then\nLady Lile gave her the sword, and told her that no man should draw it\nforth but one, a valiant knight and strong, who should avenge her on her\nbrother. This, therefore, was the reason why the damsel came here.\" \"I\nknow it all as well as ye do,\" answered Merlin; \"and would to God she had\nnever come hither, for never came she into any company but to do harm; and\nthat good knight who hath achieved the sword shall be himself slain by it,\nwhich shall be great harm and loss, for a better knight there liveth not;\nand he shall do unto my lord the king great honour and service.\"\n\nThen Sir Lancear, having armed himself at all points, mounted, and rode\nafter Sir Balin, as fast as he could go, and overtaking him, he cried\naloud, \"Abide, Sir knight! wait yet awhile, or I shall make thee do so.\"\n\nHearing him cry, Sir Balin fiercely turned his horse, and said, \"Fair\nknight, what wilt thou with me? wilt thou joust?\"\n\n\"Yea,\" said Sir Lancear, \"it is for that I have pursued thee.\"\n\n\"Peradventure,\" answered Balin, \"thou hadst best have staid at home, for\nmany a man who thinketh himself already victor, endeth by his own\ndownfall. Of what court art thou?\"\n\n\"Of King Arthur's court,\" cried Lancear, \"and I am come to revenge the\ninsult thou hast put on it this day.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Balin, \"I see that I must fight thee, and I repent to be\nobliged to grieve King Arthur or his knights; and thy quarrel seemeth full\nfoolish to me, for the damsel that is dead worked endless evils through\nthe land, or else I had been loath as any knight that liveth to have slain\na lady.\"\n\n\"Make thee ready,\" shouted Lancear, \"for one of us shall rest for ever in\nthis field.\"\n\nBut at their first encounter Sir Lancear's spear flew into splinters from\nSir Balin's shield, and Sir Balin's lance pierced with such might through\nSir Lancear's shield that it rove the hauberk also, and passed through the\nknight's body and the horse's crupper. And Sir Balin turning fiercely\nround again, drew out his sword, and knew not that he had already slain\nhim; and then he saw him lie a corpse upon the ground.\n\nAt that same moment came a damsel riding towards him as fast as her horse\ncould gallop, who, when she saw Sir Lancear dead, wept and sorrowed out of\nmeasure, crying, \"O, Sir Balin, two bodies hast thou slain, and one heart;\nand two hearts in one body; and two souls also hast thou lost.\"\n\nTherewith she took the sword from her dead lover's side--for she was Sir\nLancear's lady-love--and setting the pommel of it on the ground, ran\nherself through the body with the blade.\n\nWhen Sir Balin saw her dead he was sorely hurt and grieved in spirit, and\nrepented the death of Lancear, which had also caused so fair a lady's\ndeath. And being unable to look on their bodies for sorrow, he turned\naside into a forest, where presently as he rode, he saw the arms of his\nbrother, Sir Balan. And when they were met they put off their helms, and\nembraced each other, kissing, and weeping for joy and pity. Then Sir Balin\ntold Sir Balan all his late adventures, and that he was on his way to King\nRyence, who at that time was besieging Castle Terrabil. \"I will be with\nthee,\" answered Sir Balan, \"and we will help each other, as brethren ought\nto do.\"\n\nAnon by chance, as they were talking, came King Mark, of Cornwall, by that\nway, and when he saw the two dead bodies of Sir Lancear and his lady lying\nthere, and heard the story of their death, he vowed to build a tomb to\nthem before he left that place. So pitching his pavilion there, he sought\nthrough all the country round to find a monument, and found at last a rich\nand fair one in a church, which he took and raised above the dead knight\nand his damsel, writing on it--\"Here lieth Lancear, son of the King of\nIreland, who, at his own request, was slain by Balin; and here beside him\nalso lieth his lady Colombe, who slew herself with her lover's sword for\ngrief and sorrow.\"\n\nThen as Sir Balin and Sir Balan rode away, Merlin met with them, and said\nto Balin, \"Thou hast done thyself great harm not to have saved that lady's\nlife who slew herself; and because of it, thou shalt strike the most\nDolorous Stroke that ever man struck, save he that smote our Lord. For\nthou shalt smite the truest and most worshipful of living knights, who\nshall not be recovered from his wounds for many years, and through that\nstroke three kingdoms shall be overwhelmed in poverty and misery.\"\n\n\"If I believed,\" said Balin, \"what thou sayest, I would slay myself to\nmake thee a liar.\"\n\nAt that Merlin vanished suddenly away; but afterwards he met them in\ndisguise towards night, and told them he could lead them to King Ryence,\nwhom they sought. \"For this night he is to ride with sixty lances only\nthrough a wood hard by.\"\n\nSo Sir Balin and Sir Balan hid themselves within the wood, and at midnight\ncame out from their ambush among the leaves by the highway, and waited for\nthe king, whom presently they heard approaching with his company. Then did\nthey suddenly leap forth and smote at him and overthrew him and laid him\non the ground, and turning on his company wounded and slew forty of them,\nand put the rest to flight. And returning to King Ryence they would have\nslain him there, but he craved mercy, and yielded to their grace, crying,\n\"Knights full of prowess, slay me not; for by my life ye may win\nsomething--but my death can avail ye nought.\"\n\n\"Ye say truth,\" said the two knights, and put him in a horse-litter, and\nwent swiftly through all the night, till at cock-crow they came to King\nArthur's palace. There they delivered him to the warders and porters, to\nbe brought before the king, with this message--\"That he was sent to King\nArthur by the knight of the two swords (for so was Balin known by name,\nsince his adventure with the damsel) and by his brother.\" And so they rode\naway again ere sunrise.\n\nWithin a month or two thereafter, King Arthur being somewhat sick, went\nforth outside the town, and had his pavilion pitched in a meadow, and\nthere abode, and laid him down on a pallet to sleep, but could get no\nrest. And as he lay he heard the sound of a great horse, and looking out\nof the tent door, saw a knight ride by, making great lamentation.\n\n\"Abide, fair sir,\" said King Arthur, \"and tell me wherefore thou makest\nthis sorrow.\"\n\n\"Ye may little amend it,\" said the knight, and so passed on.\n\nPresently after Sir Balin, rode, by chance, past that meadow, and when he\nsaw the king he alighted and came to him on foot, and kneeled and saluted\nhim.\n\n\"By my head,\" said King Arthur, \"ye be welcome, Sir Balin;\" and then he\nthanked him heartily for revenging him upon King Ryence, and for sending\nhim so speedily a prisoner to his castle, and told him how King Nero,\nRyence's brother, had attacked him afterwards to deliver Ryence from\nprison; and how he had defeated him and slain him, and also King Lot, of\nOrkney who was joined with Nero, and whom King Pellinore had killed in the\nbattle. Then when they had thus talked, King Arthur told Sir Balin of the\nsullen knight that had just passed his tent, and desired him to pursue him\nand to bring him back.\n\nSo Sir Balin rode and overtook the knight in a forest with a damsel, and\nsaid, \"Sir knight, thou must come back with me unto my lord, King Arthur,\nto tell him the cause of thy sorrow, which thou hast refused even now to\ndo.\"\n\n\"That will I not,\" replied the knight, \"for it would harm me much, and do\nhim no advantage.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Balin, \"I pray thee make ready, for thou must needs go\nwith me--or else I must fight with thee and take thee by force.\"\n\n\"Wilt thou be warrant for safe conduct, if I go with thee?\" inquired the\nknight.\n\n\"Yea, surely,\" answered Balin, \"I will die else.\"\n\nSo the knight made ready to go with Sir Balin, and left the damsel in the\nwood.\n\nBut as they went, there came one invisible, and smote the knight through\nthe body with a spear. \"Alas,\" cried Sir Herleus (for so was he named), \"I\nam slain under thy guard and conduct, by that traitor knight called\nGarlon, who through magic and witchcraft rideth invisibly. Take,\ntherefore, my horse, which is better than thine, and ride to the damsel\nwhom we left, and the quest I had in hand, as she will lead thee--and\nrevenge my death when thou best mayest.\"\n\n\"That will I do,\" said Sir Balin, \"by my knighthood, and so I swear to\nthee.\"\n\nThen went Sir Balin to the damsel, and rode forth with her; she carrying\never with her the truncheon of the spear wherewith Sir Herleus had been\nslain. And as they went, a good knight, Perin de Mountbelgard, joined\ntheir company, and vowed to take adventure with them wheresoever they\nmight go. But presently as they passed a hermitage fast by a churchyard,\ncame the knight Garlon, again invisible, and smote Sir Perin through the\nbody with a spear, and slew him as he had slain Sir Herleus. Whereat, Sir\nBalin greatly raged, and swore to have Sir Garlon's life, whenever next he\nmight encounter and behold him in his bodily shape. Anon, he and the\nhermit buried the good knight Sir Perin, and rode on with the damsel till\nthey came to a great castle, whereinto they were about to enter. But when\nSir Balin had passed through the gateway, the portcullis fell behind him\nsuddenly, leaving the damsel on the outer side, with men around her,\ndrawing their swords as if to slay her.\n\nWhen he saw that, Sir Balin climbed with eager haste by wall and tower,\nand leaped into the castle moat, and rushed towards the damsel and her\nenemies, with his sword drawn, to fight and slay them. But they cried out,\n\"Put up thy sword, Sir knight, we will not fight thee in this quarrel, for\nwe do nothing but an ancient custom of this castle.\"\n\nThen they told him that the lady of the castle was sick, and had lain ill\nfor many years, and might never more be cured, unless she had a silver\ndish full of the blood of a pure maid and a king's daughter. Wherefore the\ncustom of the castle was, that never should a damsel pass that way but she\nmust give a dish full of her blood. Then Sir Balin suffered them to bleed\nthe damsel with her own consent, but her blood helped not the lady of the\ncastle. So on the morrow they departed, after right good cheer and rest.\n\nThen they rode three or four days without adventure and came at last to\nthe abode of a rich man, who sumptuously lodged and fed them. And while\nthey sat at supper Sir Balin heard a voice of some one groaning\ngrievously. \"What noise is this?\" said he.\n\n\"Forsooth,\" said the host, \"I will tell you. I was lately at a tournament,\nand there I fought a knight who is brother to King Pelles, and overthrew\nhim twice, for which he swore to be revenged on me through my best friend,\nand so he wounded my son, who cannot be recovered till I have that\nknight's blood, but he rideth through witchcraft always invisibly, and I\nknow not his name.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Sir Balin, \"but I know him; his name is Garlon, and he hath\nslain two knights, companions of mine own, in the same fashion, and I\nwould rather than all the riches in this realm that I might meet him face\nto face.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said his host, \"let me now tell thee that King Pelles hath\nproclaimed in all the country a great festival, to be held at Listeniss,\nin twenty days from now, whereto no knight may come without a lady. At\nthat great feast we might perchance find out this Garlon, for many will be\nthere; and if it please thee we will set forth together.\"\n\nSo on the morrow they rode all three towards Listeniss, and travelled\nfifteen days, and reached it on the day the feast began. Then they\nalighted and stabled their horses, and went up to the castle, and Sir\nBalin's host was denied entrance, having no lady with him. But Sir Balin\nwas right heartily received, and taken to a chamber, where they unarmed\nhim, and dressed him in rich robes, of any colour that he chose, and told\nhim he must lay aside his sword. This, however, he refused, and said, \"It\nis the custom of my country for a knight to keep his sword ever with him;\nand if I may not keep it here, I will forthwith depart.\" Then they gave\nhim leave to wear his sword. So he went to the great hall, and was set\namong knights of rank and worship, and his lady before him.\n\nSoon he found means to ask one who sat near him, \"Is there not here a\nknight whose name is Garlon?\"\n\n\"Yonder he goeth,\" said his neighbour, \"he with that black face; he is the\nmost marvellous knight alive, for he rideth invisibly, and destroyeth whom\nhe will.\"\n\n\"Ah, well,\" said Balin, drawing a long breath, \"is that indeed the man? I\nhave aforetime heard of him.\"\n\nThen he mused long within himself, and thought, \"If I shall slay him here\nand now, I shall not escape myself; but if I leave him, peradventure I\nshall never meet with him again at such advantage; and if he live, how\nmuch more harm and mischief will he do!\"\n\nBut while he deeply thought, and cast his eyes from time to time upon Sir\nGarlon, that false knight saw that he watched him, and thinking that he\ncould at such a time escape revenge, he came and smote Sir Balin on the\nface with the back of his hand, and said, \"Knight, why dost thou so watch\nme? be ashamed, and eat thy meat, and do that which thou camest for.\"\n\n\"Thou sayest well,\" cried Sir Balin, rising fiercely; \"now will I\nstraightway do that which I came to do, as thou shalt find.\" With that he\nwhirled his sword aloft and struck him downright on the head, and clove\nhis skull asunder to the shoulder.\n\n\"Give me the truncheon,\" cried out Sir Balin to his lady, \"wherewith he\nslew thy knight.\" And when she gave it him--for she had always carried it\nabout with her, wherever she had gone--he smote him through the body with\nit, and said, \"With that truncheon didst thou treacherously murder a good\nknight, and now it sticketh in thy felon body.\"\n\nThen he called to the father of the wounded son, who had come with him to\nListeniss, and said, \"Now take as much blood as thou wilt, to heal thy son\nwithal.\"\n\nBut now arose a terrible confusion, and all the knights leaped from the\ntable to slay Balin, King Pelles himself the foremost, who cried out,\n\"Knight, thou hast slain my brother at my board; die, therefore, die, for\nthou shalt never leave this castle.\"\n\n\"Slay me, thyself, then,\" shouted Balin.\n\n\"Yea,\" said the king, \"that will I! for no other man shall touch thee, for\nthe love I bear my brother.\"\n\nThen King Pelles caught in his hand a grim weapon and smote eagerly at\nBalin, but Balin put his sword between his head and the king's stroke, and\nsaved himself but lost his sword, which fell down smashed and shivered\ninto pieces by the blow. So being weaponless he ran to the next room to\nfind a sword, and so from room to room, with King Pelles after him, he in\nvain ever eagerly casting his eyes round every place to find some weapon.\n\nAt last he ran into a chamber wondrous richly decked, where was a bed all\ndressed with cloth of gold, the richest that could be thought of, and one\nwho lay quite still within the bed; and by the bedside stood a table of\npure gold borne on four silver pillars, and on the table stood a\nmarvellous spear, strangely wrought.\n\nWhen Sir Balin saw the spear he seized it in his hand, and turned upon\nKing Pelles, and smote at him so fiercely and so sore that he dropped\nswooning to the ground.\n\nBut at that Dolorous and awful Stroke the castle rocked and rove\nthroughout, and all the walls fell crashed and breaking to the earth, and\nBalin himself fell also in their midst, struck as it were to stone, and\npowerless to move a hand or foot. And so three days he lay amidst the\nruins, until Merlin came and raised him up and brought him a good horse,\nand bade him ride out of that land as swiftly as he could.\n\n[Illustration: The castle rocked and rove throughout, and all the walls\nfell crashed and breaking to the earth.]\n\n\"May I not take the damsel with me I brought hither?\" said Sir Balin.\n\n\"Lo! where she lieth dead,\" said Merlin. \"Ah, little knowest thou, Sir\nBalin, what thou hast done; for in this castle and that chamber which thou\ndidst defile, was the blood of our Lord Christ! and also that most holy\ncup--the Sangreal--wherefrom the wine was drunk at the last supper of our\nLord. Joseph of Arimathea brought it to this land, when first he came here\nto convert and save it. And on that bed of gold it was himself who lay,\nand the strange spear beside him was the spear wherewith the soldier\nLongus smote our Lord, which evermore had dripped with blood. King Pelles\nis the nearest kin to Joseph in direct descent, wherefore he held these\nholy things in trust; but now have they all gone at thy dolorous stroke,\nno man knoweth whither; and great is the damage to this land, which until\nnow hath been the happiest of all lands, for by that stroke thou hast\nslain thousands, and by the loss and parting of the Sangreal the safety of\nthis realm is put in peril, and its great happiness is gone for evermore.\"\n\nThen Balin departed from Merlin, struck to his soul with grief and sorrow,\nand said, \"In this world shall we meet never more.\"\n\nSo he rode forth through the fair cities and the country, and found the\npeople lying dead on every side. And all the living cried out on him as he\npassed, \"O Balin, all this misery hast thou done! For the dolorous stroke\nthou gavest King Pelles, three countries are destroyed, and doubt not but\nrevenge will fall on thee at last!\"\n\nWhen he had passed the boundary of those countries, he was somewhat\ncomforted, and rode eight days without adventure. Anon he came to a cross,\nwhereon was written in letters of gold, \"It is not for a knight alone to\nride towards this castle.\" Looking up, he saw a hoary ancient man come\ntowards him, who said, \"Sir Balin le Savage, thou passest thy bounds this\nway; therefore turn back again, it will be best for thee;\" and with these\nwords he vanished.\n\nThen did he hear a horn blow as it were the deathnote of some hunted\nbeast. \"That blast,\" said Balin, \"is blown for me, for I am the prey;\nthough yet I be not dead.\" But as he spoke he saw a hundred ladies with a\ngreat troop of knights come forth to meet him, with bright faces and\ngreat welcome, who led him to the castle and made a great feast, with\ndancing and minstrelsy and all manner of joy.\n\nThen the chief lady of the castle said, \"Knight with the two swords, thou\nmust encounter and fight with a knight hard by, who dwelleth on an island,\nfor no man may pass this way without encountering him.\"\n\n\"It is a grievous custom,\" answered Sir Balin.\n\n\"There is but one knight to defeat,\" replied the lady.\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Balin, \"be it as thou wilt. I am ready and quite willing,\nand though my horse and my body be full weary, yet is my heart not weary,\nsave of life. And truly I were glad if I might meet my death.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said one standing by, \"methinketh your shield is not good; I will\nlend you a bigger.\"\n\n\"I thank thee, sir,\" said Balin, and took the unknown shield and left his\nown, and so rode forth, and put himself and horse into a boat and came to\nthe island.\n\nAs soon as he had landed, he saw come riding towards him, a knight dressed\nall in red, upon a horse trapped in the same colour. When the red knight\nsaw Sir Balin, and the two swords he wore, he thought it must have been\nhis brother (for the red knight was Sir Balan), but when he saw the\nstrange arms on his shield, he forgot the thought, and came against him\nfiercely. At the first course they overthrew each other, and both lay\nswooning on the ground; but Sir Balin was the most hurt and bruised, for\nhe was weary and spent with travelling. So Sir Balan rose up first to his\nfeet and drew his sword, and Sir Balin painfully rose against him and\nraised his shield.\n\nThen Sir Balan smote him through the shield and brake his helmet; and Sir\nBalin, in return, smote at him with his fated sword, and had wellnigh\nslain his brother. So they fought till their breaths failed.\n\nThen Sir Balin, looking up, saw all the castle towers stand full of\nladies. So they went again to battle, and wounded each other full sore,\nand paused, and breathed again, and then again began the fight; and this\nfor many times they did, till all the ground was red with blood. And by\nnow, each had full grievously wounded the other with seven great wounds,\nthe least of which might have destroyed the mightiest giant in the world.\nBut still they rose against each other, although their hauberks now were\nall unnailed, and they smiting at each other's naked bodies with their\nsharp swords. At the last, Sir Balan, the younger brother, withdrew a\nlittle space and laid him down.\n\nThen said Sir Balin le Savage, \"What knight art thou? for never before\nhave I found a knight to match me thus.\"\n\n\"My name,\" said he, all faintly, \"is Balan, brother to the good knight Sir\nBalin.\"\n\n\"Ah, God!\" cried Balin, \"that ever I should see this day!\" and therewith\nfell down backwards in a swoon.\n\nThen Sir Balan crept with pain upon his feet and hands, and put his\nbrother's helmet off his head, but could not know him by his face, it was\nso hewed and bloody. But presently, when Sir Balin came to, he said, \"Oh!\nBalan, mine own brother, thou hast slain me, and I thee! All the wide\nworld saw never greater grief!\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Balan, \"that I ever saw this day; and through mishap\nalone I knew thee not, for when I saw thy two swords, if it had not been\nfor thy strange shield, I should have known thee for my brother.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Balin, \"all this sorrow lieth at the door of one unhappy\nknight within the castle, who made me change my shield. If I might live, I\nwould destroy that castle and its evil customs.\"\n\n\"It were well done,\" said Balan, \"for since I first came hither I have\nnever been able to depart, for here they made me fight with one who kept\nthis island, whom I slew, and by enchantment I might never quit it more;\nnor couldst thou, brother, hadst thou slain me, and escaped with thine own\nlife.\"\n\nAnon came the lady of the castle, and when she heard their talk, and saw\ntheir evil case, she wrung her hands and wept bitterly. So Sir Balan\nprayed the lady of her gentleness that, for his true service, she would\nbury them both together in that place. This she granted, weeping full\nsore, and said it should be done right solemnly and richly, and in the\nnoblest manner possible. Then did they send for a priest, and received the\nholy sacrament at his hands. And Balin said, \"Write over us upon our tomb,\nthat here two brethren slew each other; then shall never good knight or\npilgrim pass this way but he will pray for both our souls.\" And anon Sir\nBalan died, but Sir Balin died not till the midnight after; and then they\nboth were buried.\n\nOn the morrow of their death came Merlin, and took Sir Balin's sword and\nfixed on it a new pommel, and set it in a mighty stone, which then, by\nmagic, he made float upon the water. And so, for many years, it floated to\nand fro around the island, till it swam down the river to Camelot, where\nyoung Sir Galahad achieved it, as shall be told hereafter.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n_The Marriage of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere, and the Founding of the\nRound Table--The Adventure of the Hart and Hound_\n\n\nIt befell upon a certain day, that King Arthur said to Merlin, \"My lords\nand knights do daily pray me now to take a wife; but I will have none\nwithout thy counsel, for thou hast ever helped me since I came first to\nthis crown.\"\n\n\"It is well,\" said Merlin, \"that thou shouldst take a wife, for no man of\nbounteous and noble nature should live without one; but is there any lady\nwhom thou lovest better than another?\"\n\n\"Yea,\" said King Arthur, \"I love Guinevere, the daughter of King\nLeodegrance, of Camelgard, who also holdeth in his house the Round Table\nthat he had from my father Uther; and as I think, that damsel is the\ngentlest and the fairest lady living.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" answered Merlin, \"as for her beauty, she is one of the fairest that\ndo live; but if ye had not loved her as ye do, I would fain have had ye\nchoose some other who was both fair and good. But where a man's heart is\nset, he will be loath to leave.\" This Merlin said, knowing the misery\nthat should hereafter happen from this marriage.\n\nThen King Arthur sent word to King Leodegrance that he mightily desired to\nwed his daughter, and how that he had loved her since he saw her first,\nwhen with Kings Ban and Bors he rescued Leodegrance from King Ryence of\nNorth Wales.\n\nWhen King Leodegrance heard the message, he cried out \"These be the best\ntidings I have heard in all my life--so great and worshipful a prince to\nseek my daughter for his wife! I would fain give him half my lands with\nher straightway, but that he needeth none--and better will it please him\nthat I send him the Round Table of King Uther, his father, with a hundred\ngood knights towards the furnishing of it with guests, for he will soon\nfind means to gather more, and make the table full.\"\n\nThen King Leodegrance delivered his daughter Guinevere to the messengers\nof King Arthur, and also the Round Table with the hundred knights.\n\nSo they rode royally and freshly, sometimes by water and sometimes by\nland, towards Camelot. And as they rode along in the spring weather, they\nmade full many sports and pastimes. And, in all those sports and games, a\nyoung knight lately come to Arthur's court, Sir Lancelot by name, was\npassing strong, and won praise from all, being full of grace and\nhardihood; and Guinevere also ever looked on him with joy. And always in\nthe eventide, when the tents were set beside some stream or forest, many\nminstrels came and sang before the knights and ladies as they sat in the\ntent-doors, and many knights would tell adventures; and still Sir Lancelot\nwas foremost, and told the knightliest tales, and sang the goodliest\nsongs, of all the company.\n\nAnd when they came to Camelot, King Arthur made great joy, and all the\ncity with him; and riding forth with a great retinue he met Guinevere and\nher company, and led her through the streets all filled with people, and\nin the midst of all their shoutings and the ringing of church bells, to a\npalace hard by his own.\n\nThen, in all haste, the king commanded to prepare the marriage and the\ncoronation with the stateliest and most honourable pomp that could be\nmade. And when the day was come, the archbishops led the king to the\ncathedral, whereto he walked, clad in his royal robes, and having four\nkings, bearing four golden swords, before him; a choir of passing sweet\nmusic going also with him.\n\nIn another part, was the queen dressed in her richest ornaments, and led\nby archbishops and bishops to the Chapel of the Virgins, the four queens\nalso of the four kings last mentioned walked before her, bearing four\nwhite doves, according to ancient custom; and after her there followed\nmany damsels, singing and making every sign of joy.\n\nAnd when the two processions were come to the churches, so wondrous was\nthe music and the singing, that all the knights and barons who were there\npressed on each other, as in the crowd of battle, to hear and see the most\nthey might.\n\nWhen the king was crowned, he called together all the knights that came\nwith the Round Table from Camelgard, and twenty-eight others, great and\nvaliant men, chosen by Merlin out of all the realm, towards making up the\nfull number of the table. Then the Archbishop of Canterbury blessed the\nseats of all the knights, and when they rose again therefrom to pay their\nhomage to King Arthur there was found upon the back of each knight's seat\nhis name, written in letters of gold. But upon one seat was found written,\n\"This is the Siege Perilous, wherein if any man shall sit save him whom\nHeaven hath chosen, he shall be devoured by fire.\"\n\nAnon came young Gawain, the king's nephew, praying to be made a knight,\nwhom the king knighted then and there. Soon after came a poor man, leading\nwith him a tall fair lad of eighteen years of age, riding on a lean mare.\nAnd falling at the king's feet, the poor man said, \"Lord, it was told me,\nthat at this time of thy marriage thou wouldst give to any man the gift he\nasked for, so it were not unreasonable.\"\n\n\"That is the truth,\" replied King Arthur, \"and I will make it good.\"\n\n\"Thou sayest graciously and nobly,\" said the poor man. \"Lord, I ask\nnothing else but that thou wilt make my son here a knight.\"\n\n\"It is a great thing that thou askest,\" said the king. \"What is thy name?\"\n\n\"Aries, the cowherd,\" answered he.\n\n\"Cometh this prayer from thee or from thy son?\" inquired King Arthur.\n\n\"Nay, lord, not from myself,\" said he, \"but from him only, for I have\nthirteen other sons, and all of them will fall to any labour that I put\nthem to. But this one will do no such work for anything that I or my wife\nmay do, but is for ever shooting or fighting, and running to see knights\nand joustings, and torments me both night and day that he be made a\nknight.\"\n\n\"What is thy name?\" said the king to the young man.\n\n\"My name is Tor,\" said he.\n\nThen the king, looking at him steadfastly, was well pleased with his face\nand figure, and with his look of nobleness and strength.\n\n\"Fetch all thy other sons before me,\" said the king to Aries. But when he\nbrought them, none of them resembled Tor in size or shape or feature.\n\nThen the king knighted Tor, saying, \"Be thou to thy life's end a good\nknight and a true, as I pray God thou mayest be; and if thou provest\nworthy, and of prowess, one day thou shall be counted in the Round Table.\"\nThen turning to Merlin, Arthur said, \"Prophesy now, O Merlin, shall Sir\nTor become a worthy knight, or not?\"\n\n\"Yea, lord,\" said Merlin, \"so he ought to be, for he is the son of that\nKing Pellinore whom thou hast met, and proved to be one of the best\nknights living. He is no cowherd's son.\"\n\nPresently after came in King Pellinore, and when he saw Sir Tor he knew\nhim for his son, and was more pleased than words can tell to find him\nknighted by the king. And Pellinore did homage to King Arthur, and was\ngladly and graciously accepted of the king; and then was led by Merlin to\na high seat at the Table Round, near to the Perilous Seat.\n\nBut Sir Gawain was full of anger at the honour done King Pellinore, and\nsaid to his brother Gaheris, \"He slew our father, King Lot, therefore will\nI slay him.\"\n\n\"Do it not yet,\" said he; \"wait till I also be a knight, then will I help\nye in it: it is best ye suffer him to go at this time, and not trouble\nthis high feast with bloodshed.\"\n\n\"As ye will, be it,\" said Sir Gawain.\n\nThen rose the king and spake to all the Table Round, and charged them to\nbe ever true and noble knights, to do neither outrage nor murder, nor any\nunjust violence, and always to flee treason; also by no means ever to be\ncruel, but give mercy unto him that asked for mercy, upon pain of\nforfeiting the liberty of his court for evermore. Moreover, at all times,\non pain of death, to give all succour unto ladies and young damsels; and\nlastly, never to take part in any wrongful quarrel, for reward or payment.\nAnd to all this he swore them knight by knight.\n\nThen he ordained that, every year at Pentecost, they should all come\nbefore him, wheresoever he might appoint a place, and give account of all\ntheir doings and adventures of the past twelvemonth. And so, with prayer\nand blessing, and high words of cheer, he instituted the most noble order\nof the Round Table, whereto the best and bravest knights in all the world\nsought afterwards to find admission.\n\nThen was the high feast made ready, and the king and queen sat side by\nside, before the whole assembly; and great and royal was the banquet and\nthe pomp.\n\nAnd as they sat, each man in his place, Merlin went round and said, \"Sit\nstill awhile, for ye shall see a strange and marvellous adventure.\"\n\nSo as they sat, there suddenly came running through the hall, a white\nhart, with a white hound next after him, and thirty couple of black\nrunning hounds, making full cry; and the hart made circuit of the Table\nRound, and past the other tables; and suddenly the white hound flew upon\nhim and bit him fiercely, and tore out a piece from his haunch. Whereat\nthe hart sprang suddenly with a great leap, and overthrew a knight sitting\nat the table, who rose forthwith, and, taking up the hound, mounted, and\nrode fast away.\n\nBut no sooner had he left, than there came in a lady, mounted on a white\npalfrey, who cried out to the king, \"Lord, suffer me not to have this\ninjury!--the hound is mine which that knight taketh.\" And as she spake, a\nknight rode in all armed, on a great horse, and suddenly took up the lady\nand rode away with her by force, although she greatly cried and moaned.\n\nThen the king desired Sir Gawain, Sir Tor, and King Pellinore to mount and\nfollow this adventure to the uttermost; and told Sir Gawain to bring back\nthe hart, Sir Tor the hound and knight, and King Pellinore the knight and\nthe lady.\n\nSo Sir Gawain rode forth at a swift pace, and with him Gaheris, his\nbrother, for a squire. And as they went, they saw two knights fighting on\nhorseback, and when they reached them they divided them and asked the\nreason of their quarrel. \"We fight for a foolish matter,\" one replied,\n\"for we be brethren; but there came by a white hart this way, chased by\nmany hounds, and thinking it was an adventure for the high feast of King\nArthur, I would have followed it to have gained worship; whereat my\nyounger brother here declared he was the better knight and would go after\nit instead, and so we fight to prove which of us be the better knight.\"\n\n\"This is a foolish thing,\" said Sir Gawain. \"Fight with all strangers, if\nye will, but not brother with brother. Take my advice, set on against me,\nand if ye yield to me, as I shall do my best to make ye, ye shall go to\nKing Arthur and yield ye to his grace.\"\n\n\"Sir knight,\" replied the brothers, \"we are weary, and will do thy wish\nwithout encountering thee; but by whom shall we tell the king that we were\nsent?\"\n\n\"By the knight that followeth the quest of the white hart,\" said Sir\nGawain. \"And now tell me your names, and let us part.\"\n\n\"Sorlous and Brian of the Forest,\" they replied; and so they went their\nway to the king's court.\n\nThen Sir Gawain, still following his quest by the distant baying of the\nhounds, came to a great river, and saw the hart swimming over and near to\nthe further bank. And as he was about to plunge in and swim after, he saw\na knight upon the other side, who cried, \"Come not over here, Sir knight,\nafter that hart, save thou wilt joust with me.\"\n\n\"I will not fail for that,\" said Sir Gawain; and swam his horse across the\nstream.\n\nAnon they got their spears, and ran against each other fiercely; and Sir\nGawain smote the stranger off his horse, and turning, bade him yield.\n\n\"Nay,\" replied he, \"not so; for though ye have the better of me on\nhorseback, I pray thee, valiant knight, alight, and let us match together\nwith our swords on foot.\"\n\n\"What is thy name?\" quoth Gawain.\n\n\"Allardin of the Isles,\" replied the stranger.\n\nThen they fell on each other; but soon Sir Gawain struck him through the\nhelm, so deeply and so hard, that all his brains were scattered, and Sir\nAllardin fell dead. \"Ah,\" said Gaheris, \"that was a mighty stroke for a\nyoung knight!\"\n\nThen did they turn again to follow the white hart, and let slip three\ncouple of greyhounds after him; and at the last they chased him to a\ncastle, and there they overtook and slew him, in the chief courtyard.\n\nAt that there rushed a knight forth from a chamber, with a drawn sword in\nhis hand, and slew two of the hounds before their eyes, and chased the\nothers from the castle, crying, \"Oh, my white hart! alas, that thou art\ndead! for thee my sovereign lady gave to me, and evil have I kept thee;\nbut if I live, thy death shall be dear bought.\" Anon he went within and\narmed, and came out fiercely, and met Sir Gawain face to face.\n\n\"Why have ye slain my hounds?\" said Sir Gawain; \"they did but after their\nnature: and ye had better have taken vengeance on me than on the poor dumb\nbeasts.\"\n\n\"I will avenge me on thee, also,\" said the other, \"ere thou depart this\nplace.\"\n\nThen did they fight with each other savagely and madly, till the blood ran\ndown to their feet. But at last Sir Gawain had the better, and felled the\nknight of the castle to the ground. Then he cried out for mercy, and\nyielded to Sir Gawain, and besought him as he was a knight and gentleman\nto save his life. \"Thou shalt die,\" said Sir Gawain, \"for slaying my\nhounds.\"\n\n\"I will make thee all amends within my power,\" replied the knight.\n\nBut Sir Gawain would have no mercy, and unlaced his helm to strike his\nhead off; and so blind was he with rage, that he saw not where a lady ran\nout from her chamber and fell down upon his enemy. And making a fierce\nblow at him, he smote off by mischance the lady's head.\n\n\"Alas!\" cried Gaheris, \"foully and shamefully have ye done--the shame\nshall never leave ye! Why give ye not your mercy unto them that ask it? a\nknight without mercy is without worship also.\"\n\nThen Sir Gawain was sore amazed at that fair lady's death, and knew not\nwhat to do, and said to the fallen knight, \"Arise, for I will give thee\nmercy.\"\n\n\"Nay, nay,\" said he, \"I care not for thy mercy now, for thou hast slain my\nlady and my love--that of all earthly things I loved the best.\"\n\n\"I repent me sorely of it,\" said Sir Gawain, \"for I meant to have struck\nthee: but now shalt thou go to King Arthur and tell him this adventure,\nand how thou hast been overcome by the knight that followeth the quest of\nthe white hart.\"\n\n\"I care not whether I live or die, or where I go,\" replied the knight.\n\nSo Sir Gawain sent him to the court to Camelot, making him bear one dead\ngreyhound before and one behind him on his horse. \"Tell me thy name before\nwe part,\" said he.\n\n\"My name is Athmore of the Marsh,\" he answered.\n\nThen went Sir Gawain into the castle, and prepared to sleep there and\nbegan to unarm; but Gaheris upbraided him, saying, \"Will ye disarm in this\nstrange country? bethink ye, ye must needs have many enemies about.\"\n\nNo sooner had he spoken than there came out suddenly four knights, well\narmed, and assailed them hard, saying to Sir Gawain, \"Thou new-made\nknight, how hast thou shamed thy knighthood! a knight without mercy is\ndishonoured! Slayer of fair ladies, shame to thee evermore! Doubt not thou\nshalt thyself have need of mercy ere we leave thee.\"\n\nThen were the brothers in great jeopardy, and feared for their lives, for\nthey were but two to four, and weary with travelling; and one of the four\nknights shot Sir Gawain with a bolt, and hit him through the arm, so that\nhe could fight no more. But when there was nothing left for them but\ndeath, there came four ladies forth and prayed the four knights' mercy for\nthe strangers. So they gave Sir Gawain and Gaheris their lives, and made\nthem yield themselves prisoners.\n\nOn the morrow, came one of the ladies to Sir Gawain, and talked with him,\nsaying, \"Sir knight, what cheer?\"\n\n\"Not good,\" said he.\n\n\"It is your own default, sir,\" said the lady, \"for ye have done a passing\nfoul deed in slaying that fair damsel yesterday--and ever shall it be\ngreat shame to you. But ye be not of King Arthur's kin.\"\n\n\"Yea, truly am I,\" said he; \"my name is Gawain, son of King Lot of Orkney,\nwhom King Pellinore slew--and my mother, Belisent, is half-sister to the\nking.\"\n\nWhen the lady heard that, she went and presently got leave for him to quit\nthe castle; and they gave him the head of the white hart to take with him,\nbecause it was in his quest; but made him also carry the dead lady with\nhim--her head hung round his neck and her body lay before him on his\nhorse's neck.\n\nSo in that fashion he rode back to Camelot; and when the king and queen\nsaw him, and heard tell of his adventures, they were heavily displeased,\nand, by the order of the queen, he was put upon his trial before a court\nof ladies--who judged him to be evermore, for all his life, the knight of\nladies' quarrels, and to fight always on their side, and never against\nany, except he fought for one lady and his adversary for another; also\nthey charged him never to refuse mercy to him that asked it, and swore him\nto it on the Holy Gospels. Thus ended the adventure of the white hart.\n\nMeanwhile, Sir Tor had made him ready, and followed the knight who rode\naway with the hound. And as he went, there suddenly met him in the road a\ndwarf, who struck his horse so viciously upon the head with a great staff,\nthat he leaped backwards a spear's length.\n\n\"Wherefore so smitest thou my horse, foul dwarf?\" shouted Sir Tor.\n\n\"Because thou shall not pass this way,\" replied the dwarf, \"unless thou\nfight for it with yonder knights in those pavilions,\" pointing to two\ntents, where two great spears stood out, and two shields hung upon two\ntrees hard by.\n\n\"I may not tarry, for I am on a quest I needs must follow,\" said Sir Tor.\n\n\"Thou shalt not pass,\" replied the dwarf, and therewith blew his horn.\nThen rode out quickly at Sir Tor one armed on horseback, but Sir Tor was\nquick as he, and riding at him bore him from his horse, and made him\nyield. Directly after came another still more fiercely, but with a few\ngreat strokes and buffets Sir Tor unhorsed him also, and sent them both to\nCamelot to King Arthur. Then came the dwarf and begged Sir Tor to take\nhim in his service, \"for,\" said he, \"I will serve no more recreant\nknights.\"\n\n\"Take then a horse, and come with me,\" said Tor.\n\n\"Ride ye after the knight with the white hound?\" said the dwarf; \"I can\nsoon bring ye where he is.\"\n\nSo they rode through the forest till they came to two more tents. And Sir\nTor alighting, went into the first, and saw three damsels lie there,\nsleeping. Then went he to the other, and found another lady also sleeping,\nand at her feet the white hound he sought for, which instantly began to\nbay and bark so loudly, that the lady woke. But Sir Tor had seized the\nhound and given it to the dwarfs charge.\n\n\"What will ye do, Sir knight?\" cried out the lady; \"will ye take away my\nhound from me by force?\"\n\n\"Yea, lady,\" said Sir Tor; \"for so I must, having the king's command; and\nI have followed it from King Arthur's court, at Camelot, to this place.\"\n\n\"Well\" said the lady, \"ye will not go far before ye be ill handled, and\nwill repent ye of the quest.\"\n\n\"I shall cheerfully abide whatsoever adventure cometh, by the grace of\nGod,\" said Sir Tor; and so mounted his horse and began to ride back on his\nway. But night coming on, he turned aside to a hermitage that was in the\nforest, and there abode till the next day, making but sorrowful cheer of\nsuch poor food as the hermit had to give him, and hearing a Mass devoutly\nbefore he left on the morrow.\n\nAnd in the early morning, as he rode forth with the dwarf towards Camelot,\nhe heard a knight call loudly after him, \"Turn, turn! Abide, Sir knight,\nand yield me up the hound thou tookest from my lady.\" At which he turned,\nand saw a great and strong knight, armed full splendidly, riding down upon\nhim fiercely through a glade of the forest.\n\nNow Sir Tor was very ill provided, for he had but an old courser, which\nwas as weak as himself, because of the hermit's scanty fare. He waited,\nnevertheless, for the strange knight to come, and at the first onset with\ntheir spears, each unhorsed the other, and then fell to with their swords\nlike two mad lions. Then did they smite through one another's shields and\nhelmets till the fragments flew on all sides, and their blood ran out in\nstreams; but yet they carved and rove through the thick armour of the\nhauberks, and gave each other great and ghastly wounds. But in the end,\nSir Tor, finding the strange knight faint, doubled his strokes until he\nbeat him to the earth. Then did he bid him yield to his mercy.\n\n\"That will I not,\" replied Abellius, \"while my life lasteth and my soul is\nin my body, unless thou give me first the hound.\"\n\n\"I cannot,\" said Sir Tor, \"and will not, for it was my quest to bring\nagain that hound and thee unto King Arthur, or otherwise to slay thee.\"\n\nWith that there came a damsel riding on a palfrey, as fast as she could\ndrive, and cried out to Sir Tor with a loud voice, \"I pray thee, for King\nArthur's love, give me a gift.\"\n\n\"Ask,\" said Sir Tor, \"and I will give thee.\"\n\n\"Grammercy,\" said the lady, \"I ask the head of this false knight Abellius,\nthe most outrageous murderer that liveth.\"\n\n\"I repent me of the gift I promised,\" said Sir Tor. \"Let him make thee\namends for all his trespasses against thee.\"\n\n\"He cannot make amends,\" replied the damsel, \"for he hath slain my\nbrother, a far better knight than he, and scorned to give him mercy,\nthough I kneeled for half an hour before him in the mire, to beg it, and\nthough it was but by a chance they fought, and for no former injury or\nquarrel. I require my gift of thee as a true knight, or else will I shame\nthee in King Arthur's court; for this Abellius is the falsest knight\nalive, and a murderer of many.\"\n\nWhen Abellius heard this, he trembled greatly, and was sore afraid, and\nyielded to Sir Tor, and prayed his mercy.\n\n\"I cannot now, Sir knight,\" said he, \"lest I be false to my promise. Ye\nwould not take my mercy when I offered it; and now it is too late.\"\n\nTherewith he unlaced his helmet, and took it off; but Abellius, in dismal\nfear, struggled to his feet, and fled, until Sir Tor overtook him, and\nsmote off his head entirely with one blow.\n\n\"Now, sir,\" said the damsel, \"it is near night, I pray ye come and lodge\nat my castle hard by.\"\n\n\"I will, with a good will,\" said he, for both his horse and he had fared\nbut poorly since they left Camelot.\n\nSo he went to the lady's castle and fared sumptuously, and saw her\nhusband, an old knight, who greatly thanked him for his service, and urged\nhim oftentimes to come again.\n\nOn the morrow he departed, and reached Camelot by noon, where the king and\nqueen rejoiced to see him, and the king made him Earl; and Merlin\nprophesied that these adventures were but little to the things he should\nachieve hereafter.\n\nNow while Sir Gawain and Sir Tor had fulfilled their quests, King\nPellinore pursued the lady whom the knight had seized away from the\nwedding-feast. And as he rode through the woods, he saw in a valley a fair\nyoung damsel sitting by a well-side, and a wounded knight lying in her\narms, and King Pellinore saluted her as he passed by.\n\nAs soon as she perceived him she cried out, \"Help, help me, knight, for\nour Lord's sake!\" But Pellinore was far too eager in his quest to stay or\nturn, although she cried a hundred times to him for help; at which she\nprayed to heaven he might have such sore need before he died as she had\nnow. And presently thereafter her knight died in her arms; and she, for\ngrief and love slew herself with his sword.\n\nBut King Pellinore rode on till he met a poor man and asked him had he\nseen a knight pass by that way leading by force a lady with him.\n\n\"Yea, surely,\" said the man, \"and greatly did she moan and cry; but even\nnow another knight is fighting with him to deliver the lady; ride on and\nthou shalt find them fighting still.\"\n\nAt that King Pellinore rode swiftly on, and came to where he saw the two\nknights fighting, hard by where two pavilions stood. And when he looked in\none of them he saw the lady that was his quest, and with her the two\nsquires of the two knights who fought.\n\n\"Fair lady,\" said he, \"ye must come with me unto Arthur's court.\"\n\n\"Sir knight,\" said the two squires, \"yonder be two knights fighting for\nthis lady; go part them, and get their consent to take her, ere thou touch\nher.\"\n\n\"Ye say well,\" said King Pellinore, and rode between the combatants, and\nasked them why they fought.\n\n\"Sir knight,\" said the one, \"yon lady is my cousin, mine aunt's daughter,\nwhom I met borne away against her will, by this knight here, with whom I\ntherefore fight to free her.\"\n\n\"Sir knight,\" replied the other, whose name was Hantzlake of Wentland,\n\"this lady got I, by my arms and prowess, at King Arthur's court to-day.\"\n\n\"That is false,\" said King Pellinore; \"ye stole the lady suddenly, and\nfled away with her, before any knight could arm to stay thee. But it is my\nservice to take her back again. Neither of ye shall therefore have her;\nbut if ye will fight for her, fight with me now and here.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the knights, \"make ready, and we will assail thee with all\nour might.\"\n\nThen Sir Hantzlake ran King Pellinore's horse through with his sword, so\nthat they might be all alike on foot. But King Pellinore at that was\npassing wroth, and ran upon Sir Hantzlake, with a cry, \"Keep well thy\nhead!\" and gave him such a stroke upon the helm as clove him to the chin,\nso that he fell dead to the ground. When he saw that, the other knight\nrefused to fight, and kneeling down said, \"Take my cousin the lady with\nthee, as thy quest is; but as thou art a true knight, suffer her to come\nto neither shame nor harm.\"\n\nSo the next day King Pellinore departed for Camelot, and took the lady\nwith him; and as they rode in a valley full of rough stones, the damsel's\nhorse stumbled and threw her, so that her arms were sorely bruised and\nhurt. And as they rested in the forest for the pain to lessen, night came\non, and there they were compelled to make their lodging. A little before\nmidnight they heard the trotting of a horse. \"Be ye still,\" said King\nPellinore, \"for now we may hear of some adventure,\" and therewith he armed\nhim. Then he heard two knights meet and salute each other, in the dark;\none riding from Camelot, the other from the north.\n\n\"What tidings at Camelot?\" said one.\n\n\"By my head,\" said the other, \"I have but just left there, and have espied\nKing Arthur's court, and such a fellowship is there as never may be broke\nor overcome; for wellnigh all the chivalry of the world is there, and all\nfull loyal to the king, and now I ride back homewards to the north to tell\nour chiefs, that they waste not their strength in wars against him.\"\n\n\"As for all that,\" replied the other knight, \"I am but now from the north,\nand bear with me a remedy, the deadliest poison that ever was heard tell\nof, and to Camelot will I with it; for there we have a friend close to the\nking, and greatly cherished of him, who hath received gifts from us to\npoison him, as he hath promised soon to do.\"\n\n\"Beware,\" said the first knight, \"of Merlin, for he knoweth all things, by\nthe devil's craft.\"\n\n\"I will not fear for that,\" replied the other, and so rode on his way.\n\nAnon King Pellinore and the lady passed on again; and when they came to\nthe well at which the lady with the wounded knight had sat, they found\nboth knight and Damsel utterly devoured by lions and wild beasts, all save\nthe lady's head.\n\nWhen King Pellinore saw that, he wept bitterly, saying, \"Alas! I might\nhave saved her life had I but tarried a few moments in my quest.\"\n\n\"Wherefore make so much sorrow now?\" said the lady.\n\n\"I know not,\" answered he, \"but my heart grieveth greatly for this poor\nlady's death, so fair she was and young.\"\n\nThen he required a hermit to bury the remains of the bodies, and bare the\nlady's head with him to Camelot, to the court.\n\nWhen he was arrived, he was sworn to tell the truth of his quest before\nthe King and Queen, and when he had entered the Queen somewhat upbraided\nhim, saying, \"Ye were much to blame that ye saved not that lady's life.\"\n\n\"Madam,\" said he, \"I shall repent it all my life.\"\n\n\"Ay, king,\" quoth Merlin, who suddenly came in, \"and so ye ought to do,\nfor that lady was your daughter, not seen since infancy by thee. And she\nwas on her way to court, with a right good young knight, who would have\nbeen her husband, but was slain by treachery of a felon knight, Lorraine\nle Savage, as they came; and because thou wouldst not abide and help her,\nthy best friend shall fail thee in thine hour of greatest need, for such\nis the penance ordained thee for that deed.\"\n\nThen did King Pellinore tell Merlin secretly of the treason he had heard\nin the forest, and Merlin by his craft so ordered that the knight who bare\nthe poison was himself soon after slain by it, and so King Arthur's life\nwas saved.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\n_King Arthur and Sir Accolon of Gaul_\n\n\nBeing now happily married, King Arthur for a season took his pleasure,\nwith great tournaments, and jousts, and huntings. So once upon a time the\nking and many of his knights rode hunting in a forest, and Arthur, King\nUrience, and Sir Accolon of Gaul, followed after a great hart, and being\nall three well mounted, they chased so fast that they outsped their\ncompany, and left them many miles behind; but riding still as rapidly as\nthey could go, at length their horses fell dead under them. Then being all\nthree on foot, and seeing the stag not far before them, very weary and\nnigh spent--\"What shall we do,\" said King Arthur, \"for we are hard\nbested?\" \"Let us go on afoot,\" said King Urience, \"till we can find some\nlodging.\" At that they saw the stag lying upon the bank of a great lake,\nwith a hound springing at his throat, and many other hounds trooping\ntowards him. So, running forward, Arthur blew the death-note on his horn,\nand slew the hart. Then lifting up his eyes he saw before him on the lake\na barge, all draped down to the water's edge, with silken folds and\ncurtains, which swiftly came towards him, and touched upon the sands; but\nwhen he went up close and looked in, he saw no earthly creature. Then he\ncried out to his companions, \"Sirs, come ye hither, and let us see what\nthere is in this ship.\" So they all three went in, and found it everywhere\nthroughout furnished, and hung with rich draperies of silk and gold.\n\nBy this time eventide had come, when suddenly a hundred torches were set\nup on all sides of the barge, and gave a dazzling light, and at the same\ntime came forth twelve fair damsels, and saluted King Arthur by his name,\nkneeling on their knees, and telling him that he was welcome, and should\nhave their noblest cheer, for which the king thanked them courteously.\nThen did they lead him and his fellows to a splendid chamber, where was a\ntable spread with all the richest furniture, and costliest wines and\nviands; and there they served them with all kinds of wines and meats, till\nArthur wondered at the splendour of the feast, declaring he had never in\nhis life supped better, or more royally. After supper they led him to\nanother chamber, than which he had never beheld a richer, where he was\nleft to rest. King Urience, also, and Sir Accolon were each conducted into\nrooms of like magnificence. And so they all three fell asleep, and being\nvery weary slept deeply all that night.\n\n[Illustration: Came forth twelve fair damsels, and saluted King Arthur by\nhis name.]\n\nBut when the morning broke, King Urience found himself in his own house in\nCamelot, he knew not how; and Arthur awaking found himself in a dark\ndungeon, and heard around him nothing but the groans of woful knights,\nprisoners like himself. Then said King Arthur, \"Who are ye, thus groaning\nand complaining?\" And some one answered him, \"Alas, we be all prisoners,\neven twenty good knights, and some of us have lain here seven years--some\nmore--nor seen the light of day for all that time.\" \"For what cause?\" said\nKing Arthur. \"Know ye not then yourself?\" they answered--\"we will soon\ntell you. The lord of this strong castle is Sir Damas, and is the falsest\nand most traitorous knight that liveth; and he hath a younger brother, a\ngood and noble knight, whose name is Outzlake. This traitor Damas,\nalthough passing rich, will give his brother nothing of his wealth, and\nsave what Outzlake keepeth to himself by force, he hath no share of the\ninheritance. He owneth, nevertheless, one fair rich manor, whereupon he\nliveth, loved of all men far and near. But Damas is as altogether hated as\nhis brother is beloved, for he is merciless and cowardly: and now for many\nyears there hath been war between these brothers, and Sir Outzlake\nevermore defieth Damas to come forth and fight with him, body to body, for\nthe inheritance; and if he be too cowardly, to find some champion knight\nthat will fight for him. And Damas hath agreed to find some champion, but\nnever yet hath found a knight to take his evil cause in hand, or wager\nbattle for him. So with a strong band of men-at-arms he lieth ever in\nambush, and taketh captive every passing knight who may unwarily go near,\nand bringeth him into this castle, and desireth him either to fight Sir\nOutzlake, or to lie for evermore in durance. And thus hath he dealt with\nall of us, for we all scorned to take up such a cause for such a false\nfoul knight--but rather one by one came here, where many a good knight\nhath died of hunger and disease. But if one of us would fight, Sir Damas\nwould deliver all the rest.\"\n\n\"God of his mercy send you deliverance,\" said King Arthur, and sat\nturning in his mind how all these things should end, and how he might\nhimself gain freedom for so many noble hearts.\n\nAnon there came a damsel to the king, saying, \"Sir if thou wilt fight for\nmy lord thou shalt be delivered out of prison, but else nevermore shalt\nthou escape with thy life.\" \"Nay,\" said King Arthur, \"that is but a hard\nchoice, yet had I rather fight than die in prison, and if I may deliver\nnot myself alone, but all these others, I will do the battle.\" \"Yea,\" said\nthe damsel, \"it shall be even so.\" \"Then,\" said King Arthur, \"I am ready\nnow, if but I had a horse and armour.\" \"Fear not,\" said she, \"that shalt\nthou have presently, and shalt lack nothing proper for the fight.\" \"Have I\nnot seen thee,\" said the king, \"at King Arthur's court? for it seemeth\nthat thy face is known to me.\" \"Nay,\" said the damsel, \"I was never there;\nI am Sir Damas' daughter, and have never been but a day's journey from\nthis castle.\" But she spoke falsely, for she was one of the damsels of\nMorgan le Fay, the great enchantress, who was King Arthur's half-sister.\n\nWhen Sir Damas knew that there had been at length a knight found who would\nfight for him, he sent for Arthur, and finding him a man so tall and\nstrong, and straight of limb, he was passingly well pleased, and made a\ncovenant with him, that he should fight unto the uttermost for his cause,\nand that all the other knights should be delivered. And when they were\nsworn to each other on the holy gospels, all those imprisoned knights were\nstraightway led forth and delivered, but abode there one and all to see\nthe battle.\n\nIn the meanwhile there had happened to Sir Accolon of Gaul a strange\nadventure; for when he awoke from his deep sleep upon the silken barge, he\nfound himself upon the edge of a deep well, and in instant peril of\nfalling thereinto. Whereat, leaping up in great affright, he crossed\nhimself and cried aloud, \"May God preserve my lord King Arthur and King\nUrience, for those damsels in the ship have betrayed us, and were\ndoubtless devils and no women; and if I may escape this misadventure, I\nwill certainly destroy them wheresoever I may find them.\" With that there\ncame to him a dwarf with a great mouth, and a flat nose, and saluted him,\nsaying that he came from Queen Morgan le Fay. \"And she greeteth you well,\"\nsaid he, \"and biddeth you be strong of heart, for to-morrow you shall do\nbattle with a strange knight, and therefore she hath sent you here\nExcalibur, King Arthur's sword, and the scabbard likewise. And she\ndesireth you as you do love her to fight this battle to the uttermost, and\nwithout any mercy, as you have promised her you would fight when she\nshould require it of you; and she will make a rich queen for ever of any\ndamsel that shall bring her that knight's head with whom you are to\nfight.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Accolon, \"tell you my lady Queen Morgan, that I shall\nhold to that I promised her, now that I have this sword--and,\" said he, \"I\nsuppose it was to bring about this battle that she made all these\nenchantments by her craft.\" \"You have guessed rightly,\" said the dwarf,\nand therewithal he left him.\n\nThen came a knight and lady, and six squires, to Sir Accolon, and took him\nto a manor house hard by, and gave him noble cheer; and the house belonged\nto Sir Outzlake, the brother of Sir Damas, for so had Morgan le Fay\ncontrived with her enchantments. Now Sir Outzlake himself was at that time\nsorely wounded and disabled, having been pierced through both his thighs\nby a spear-thrust. When, therefore, Sir Damas sent down messengers to his\nbrother, bidding him make ready by to-morrow morning, and be in the field\nto fight with a good knight, for that he had found a champion ready to do\nbattle at all points, Sir Outzlake was sorely annoyed and distressed, for\nhe knew he had small chance of victory, while yet he was disabled by his\nwounds; notwithstanding, he determined to take the battle in hand,\nalthough he was so weak that he must needs be lifted to his saddle. But\nwhen Sir Accolon of Gaul heard this, he sent a message to Sir Outzlake\noffering to take the battle in his stead, which cheered Sir Outzlake\nmightily, who thanked Sir Accolon with all his heart, and joyfully\naccepted him.\n\nSo, on the morrow, King Arthur was armed and well horsed, and asked Sir\nDamas, \"When shall we go to the field?\" \"Sir,\" said Sir Damas, \"you shall\nfirst hear mass.\" And when mass was done, there came a squire on a great\nhorse, and asked Sir Damas if his knight were ready, \"for our knight is\nalready in the field.\" Then King Arthur mounted on horseback, and there\naround were all the knights, and barons, and people of the country; and\ntwelve of them were chosen to wait upon the two knights who were about to\nfight. And as King Arthur sat on horseback, there came a damsel from\nMorgan le Fay, and brought to him a sword, made like Excalibur, and a\nscabbard also, and said to him, \"Morgan le Fay sendeth you here your sword\nfor her great love's sake.\" And the king thanked her, and believed it to\nbe as she said; but she traitorously deceived him, for both sword and\nscabbard were counterfeit, brittle, and false, and the true sword\nExcalibur was in the hands of Sir Accolon. Then, at the sound of a\ntrumpet, the champions set themselves on opposite sides of the field, and\ngiving rein and spur to their horses urged them to so great a speed that\neach smiting the other in the middle of the shield, rolled his opponent to\nthe ground, both horse and man. Then starting up immediately, both drew\ntheir swords and rushed swiftly together. And so they fell to eagerly, and\ngave each other many great and mighty strokes.\n\nAnd as they were thus fighting, the damsel Vivien, lady of the lake, who\nloved King Arthur, came upon the ground, for she knew by her enchantments\nhow Morgan le Fay had craftily devised to have King Arthur slain by his\nown sword that day, and therefore came to save his life. And Arthur and\nSir Accolon were now grown hot against each other, and spared not strength\nnor fury in their fierce assaults; but the king's sword gave way\ncontinually before Sir Accolon's, so that at every stroke he was sore\nwounded, and his blood ran from him so fast that it was a marvel he could\nstand. When King Arthur saw the ground so sore be-blooded, he bethought\nhim in dismay that there was magic treason worked upon him, and that his\nown true sword was changed, for it seemed to him that the sword in Sir\nAccolon's hand was Excalibur, for fearfully it drew his blood at every\nblow, while what he held himself kept no sharp edge, nor fell with any\nforce upon his foe.\n\n\"Now, knight, look to thyself, and keep thee well from me,\" cried out Sir\nAccolon. But King Arthur answered not, and gave him such a buffet on the\nhelm as made him stagger and nigh fall upon the ground. Then Sir Accolon\nwithdrew a little, and came on with Excalibur on high, and smote King\nArthur in return with such a mighty stroke as almost felled him; and both\nbeing now in hottest wrath, they gave each other grievous and savage\nblows. But Arthur all the time was losing so much blood that scarcely\ncould he keep upon his feet yet so full was he of knighthood, that\nknightly he endured the pain, and still sustained himself, though now he\nwas so feeble that he thought himself about to die. Sir Accolon, as yet,\nhad lost no drop of blood, and being very bold and confident in Excalibur,\neven grew more vigorous and hasty in his assaults. But all men who beheld\nthem said they never saw a knight fight half so well as did King Arthur;\nand all the people were so grieved for him that they besought Sir Damas\nand Sir Outzlake to make up their quarrel and so stay the fight; but they\nwould not.\n\nSo still the battle raged, till Arthur drew a little back for breath and a\nfew moments' rest; but Accolon came on after him, following fiercely and\ncrying loud, \"It is no time for me to suffer thee to rest,\" and therewith\nset upon him. Then Arthur, full of scorn and rage, lifted up his sword and\nstruck Sir Accolon upon the helm so mightily that he drove him to his\nknees; but with the force of that great stroke his brittle, treacherous\nsword broke short off at the hilt, and fell down in the grass among the\nblood, leaving the pommel only in his hand. At that, King Arthur thought\nwithin himself that all was over, and secretly prepared his mind for\ndeath, yet kept himself so knightly sheltered by his shield that he lost\nno ground, and made as though he yet had hope and cheer. Then said Sir\nAccolon, \"Sir knight, thou now art overcome and canst endure no longer,\nseeing thou art weaponless, and hast lost already so much blood. Yet am I\nfully loth to slay thee; yield, then, therefore, to me as recreant.\"\n\"Nay,\" said King Arthur, \"that may I not, for I have promised to do battle\nto the uttermost by the faith of my body while my life lasteth; and I had\nrather die with honour than live with shame; and if it were possible for\nme to die an hundred times, I had rather die as often than yield me to\nthee, for though I lack weapons, I shall lack no worship, and it shall be\nto thy shame to slay me weaponless.\" \"Aha,\" shouted then Sir Accolon, \"as\nfor the shame, I will not spare; look to thyself, sir knight, for thou art\neven now but a dead man.\" Therewith he drove at him with pitiless force,\nand struck him nearly down; but Arthur evermore waxing in valour as he\nwaned in blood, pressed on Sir Accolon with his shield, and hit at him so\nfiercely with the pommel in his hand, as hurled him three strides\nbackwards.\n\nThis, therefore, so confused Sir Accolon, that rushing up, all dizzy, to\ndeliver once again a furious blow, even as he struck, Excalibur, by\nVivien's magic, fell from out his hands upon the earth. Beholding which,\nKing Arthur lightly sprang to it, and grasped it, and forthwith felt it\nwas his own good sword, and said to it, \"Thou hast been from me all too\nlong, and done me too much damage.\" Then spying the scabbard hanging by\nSir Accolon's side, he sprang and pulled it from him, and cast it away as\nfar as he could throw it; for so long as he had worn it, Arthur new his\nlife would have been kept secure. \"Oh, knight!\" then said the king, \"thou\nhast this day wrought me much damage by this sword, but now art thou come\nto thy death, for I shall not warrant thee but that thou shalt suffer, ere\nwe part, somewhat of that thou hast made me suffer.\" And therewithal King\nArthur flew at him with all his might, and pulled him to the earth, and\nthen struck off his helm, and gave him on the head a fearful buffet, till\nthe blood leaped forth. \"Now will I slay thee!\" cried King Arthur; for his\nheart was hardened, and his body all on fire with fever, till for a moment\nhe forgot his knightly mercy. \"Slay me thou mayest,\" said Sir Accolon,\n\"for thou art the best knight I ever found, and I see well that God is\nwith thee; and I, as thou hast, have promised to fight this battle to the\nuttermost, and never to be recreant while I live; therefore shall I never\nyield me with my mouth, and God must do with my body what he will.\" And as\nSir Accolon spoke, King Arthur thought he knew his voice; and parting all\nhis blood-stained hair from out his eyes, and leaning down towards him,\nsaw, indeed, it was his friend and own true knight. Then said he--keeping\nhis own visor down--\"I pray thee tell me of what country art thou, and\nwhat court?\" \"Sir knight,\" he answered, \"I am of King Arthur's court, and\nmy name is Sir Accolon of Gaul.\" Then said the king, \"Oh, sir knight! I\npray thee tell me who gave thee this sword? and from whom thou hadst it?\"\n\nThen said Sir Accolon, \"Woe worth this sword, for by it I have gotten my\ndeath. This sword hath been in my keeping now for almost twelve months,\nand yesterday Queen Morgan le Fay, wife of King Urience, sent it to me by\na dwarf, that therewith I might in some way slay her brother, King Arthur;\nfor thou must understand that King Arthur is the man she hateth most in\nall the world, being full of envy and jealousy because he is of greater\nworship and renown than any other of her blood. She loveth me also as much\nas she doth hate him; and if she might contrive to slay King Arthur by her\ncraft and magic, then would she straightway kill her husband also, and\nmake me the king of all this land, and herself my queen, to reign with me;\nbut now,\" said he, \"all that is over, for this day I am come to my death.\"\n\n\"It would have been sore treason of thee to destroy thy lord,\" said\nArthur. \"Thou sayest truly,\" answered he; \"but now that I have told thee,\nand openly confessed to thee all that foul treason whereof I now do\nbitterly repent, tell me, I pray thee, whence art thou, and of what\ncourt?\" \"O, Sir Accolon!\" said King Arthur, \"learn that I am myself King\nArthur.\" When Sir Accolon heard this he cried aloud, \"Alas, my gracious\nlord! have mercy on me, for I knew thee not.\" \"Thou shalt have mercy,\"\nsaid he, \"for thou knewest not my person at this time; and though by thine\nown confession thou art a traitor, yet do I blame thee less, because thou\nhast been blinded by the false crafts of my sister Morgan le Fay, whom I\nhave trusted more than all others of my kin, and whom I now shall know\nwell how to punish.\" Then did Sir Accolon cry loudly, \"O, lords, and all\ngood people! this noble knight that I have fought with is the noblest and\nmost worshipful in all the world; for it is King Arthur, our liege lord\nand sovereign king; and full sorely I repent that I have ever lifted lance\nagainst him, though in ignorance I did it.\"\n\nThen all the people fell down on their knees and prayed the pardon of the\nking for suffering him to come to such a strait. But he replied, \"Pardon\nye cannot have, for, truly, ye have nothing sinned; but here ye see what\nill adventure may ofttimes befall knights-errant, for to my own hurt, and\nhis danger also, I have fought with one of my own knights.\"\n\nThen the king commanded Sir Damas to surrender to his brother the whole\nmanor, Sir Outzlake only yielding him a palfrey every year; \"for,\" said he\nscornfully, \"it would become thee better to ride on than a courser;\" and\nordered Damas, upon pain of death, never again to touch or to distress\nknights-errant riding on their adventures; and also to make full\ncompensation and satisfaction to the twenty knights whom he had held in\nprison. \"And if any of them,\" said the king, \"come to my court complaining\nthat he hath not had full satisfaction of thee for his injuries, by my\nhead, thou shalt die therefor.\"\n\nAfterwards, King Arthur asked Sir Outzlake to come with him to his court,\nwhere he should become a knight of his, and, if his deeds were noble, be\nadvanced to all he might desire.\n\nSo then he took his leave of all the people and mounted upon horseback,\nand Sir Accolon went with him to an abbey hard by, where both their wounds\nwere dressed. But Sir Accolon died within four days after. And when he was\ndead, the king sent his body to Queen Morgan, to Camelot, saying that he\nsent her a present in return for the sword Excalibur which she had sent\nhim by the damsel.\n\nSo, on the morrow, there came a damsel from Queen Morgan to the king, and\nbrought with her the richest mantle that ever was seen, for it was set as\nfull of precious stones as they could stand against each other, and they\nwere the richest stones that ever the king saw. And the damsel said, \"Your\nsister sendeth you this mantle, and prayeth you to take her gift, and in\nwhatsoever thing she hath offended you, she will amend it at your\npleasure.\" To this the king replied not, although the mantle pleased him\nmuch. With that came in the lady of the lake, and said, \"Sir, put not on\nthis mantle till thou hast seen more; and in nowise let it be put upon\nthee, or any of thy knights, till ye have made the bringer of it first put\nit on her.\" \"It shall be done as thou dost counsel,\" said the king. Then\nsaid he to the damsel that came from his sister, \"Damsel, I would see this\nmantle ye have brought me upon yourself.\" \"Sir,\" said she, \"it will not\nbeseem me to wear a knight's garment.\" \"By my head,\" said King Arthur,\n\"thou shall wear it ere it go on any other person's back!\" And so they put\nit on her by force, and forthwith the garment burst into a flame and\nburned the damsel into cinders. When the king saw that, he hated that\nfalse witch Morgan le Fay with all his heart, and evermore was deadly\nquarrel between her and Arthur to their lives' end.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\n_King Arthur conquers Rome, and is crowned Emperor_\n\n\nAnd now again the second time there came ambassadors from Lucius Tiberius,\nEmperor of Rome, demanding, under pain of war, tribute and homage from\nKing Arthur, and the restoration of all Gaul, which he had conquered from\nthe tribune Flollo.\n\nWhen they had delivered their message, the king bade them withdraw while\nhe consulted with his knights and barons what reply to send. Then some of\nthe younger knights would have slain the ambassadors, saying that their\nspeech was a rebuke to all who heard the king insulted by it. But when\nKing Arthur heard that, he ordered none to touch them upon pain of death;\nand sending officers, he had them taken to a noble lodging, and there\nentertained with the best cheer. \"And,\" said he, \"let no dainty be spared,\nfor the Romans are great lords; and though their message please me not,\nyet must I remember mine honour.\"\n\nThen the lords and knights of the Round Table were called on to declare\ntheir counsel--what should be done upon this matter; and Sir Cador of\nCornwall speaking first, said, \"Sir, this message is the best news I have\nheard for a long time, for we have been now idle and at rest for many\ndays, and I trust that thou wilt make sharp war upon the Romans, wherein,\nI doubt not, we shall all gain honour.\"\n\n\"I believe well,\" said Arthur, \"that thou art pleased, Sir Cador; but that\nis scarce an answer to the Emperor of Rome, and his demand doth grieve me\nsorely, for truly I will never pay him tribute; wherefore, lords, I pray\nye counsel me. Now, I have understood that Belinus and Brennius, knights\nof Britain, held the Roman Empire in their hands for many days, and also\nConstantine, the son of Helen, which is open evidence, not only that we\nowe Rome no tribute, but that I, being descended from them, may, of right,\nmyself claim the empire.\"\n\nThen said King Anguish of Scotland, \"Sir, thou oughtest of right to be\nabove all other kings, for in all Christendom is there not thine equal;\nand I counsel thee never to obey the Romans. For when they reigned here\nthey grievously distressed us, and put the land to great and heavy\nburdens; and here, for my part, I swear to avenge me on them when I may,\nand will furnish thee with twenty thousand men-at-arms, whom I will pay\nand keep, and who shall wait on thee with me, when it shall please thee.\"\n\nThen the King of Little Britain rose and promised King Arthur thirty\nthousand men; and likewise many other kings, and dukes, and barons,\npromised aid--as the lord of West Wales thirty thousand men, Sir Ewaine\nand his cousin thirty thousand men, and so forth; Sir Lancelot also, and\nevery other knight of the Round Table, promised each man a great host.\n\nSo the king, passing joyful at their courage and good will, thanked them\nall heartily, and sent for the ambassadors again, to hear his answer. \"I\nwill,\" said he, \"that ye now go back straightway unto the Emperor your\nmaster and tell him that I give no heed to his words, for I have conquered\nall my kingdoms by the will of God and by my own right arm, and I am\nstrong enough to keep them, without paying tribute to any earthly\ncreature. But, on the other hand, I claim both tribute and submission from\nhimself, and also claim the sovereignty of all his empire, whereto I am\nentitled by the right of my own ancestors--sometime kings of this land.\nAnd say to him that I will shortly come to Rome, and by God's grace will\ntake possession of my empire and subdue all rebels. Wherefore, lastly, I\ncommand him and all the lords of Rome that they forthwith pay me their\nhomage, under pain of my chastisement and wrath.\"\n\nThen he commanded his treasurers to give the ambassadors great gifts, and\ndefray all their charges, and appointed Sir Cador to convey them\nworshipfully out of the land.\n\nSo when they returned to Rome and came before Lucius, he was sore angry at\ntheir words, and said, \"I thought this Arthur would have instantly obeyed\nmy orders and have served me as humbly as any other king; but because of\nhis fortune in Gaul, he hath grown insolent.\"\n\n\"Ah, lord,\" said one of the ambassadors, \"refrain from such vain words,\nfor truly I and all with me were fearful at his royal majesty and angry\ncountenance. I fear me thou hast made a rod for thee more sharp than thou\nhast counted on. He meaneth to be master of this empire; and is another\nkind of man than thou supposest, and holdeth the most noble court of all\nthe world. We saw him on the new year's day, served at his table by nine\nkings, and the noblest company of other princes, lords, and knights that\never was in all the world; and in his person he is the most manly-seeming\nman that liveth, and looketh like to conquer all the earth.\"\n\nThen Lucius sent messengers to all the subject countries of Rome, and\nbrought together a mighty army, and assembled sixteen kings, and many\ndukes, princes, lords, and admirals, and a wondrous great multitude of\npeople. Fifty giants also, born of fiends, were set around him for a\nbody-guard. With all that host he straightway went from Rome, and passed\nbeyond the mountains into Gaul, and burned the towns and ravaged all the\ncountry of that province, in rage for its submission to King Arthur. Then\nhe moved on towards Little Britain.\n\nMeanwhile, King Arthur having held a parliament at York, left the realm in\ncharge of Sir Badewine and Sir Constantine, and crossed the sea from\nSandwich to meet Lucius. And so soon as he was landed, he sent Sir Gawain,\nSir Bors, Sir Lionel, and Sir Bedivere to the Emperor, commanding him \"to\nmove swiftly and in haste out of his land, and, if not, to make himself\nready for battle, and not continue ravaging the country and slaying\nharmless people.\" Anon, those noble knights attired themselves and set\nforth on horseback to where they saw, in a meadow, many silken tents of\ndivers colours, and the Emperor's pavilion in the midst, with a golden\neagle set above it.\n\nThen Sir Gawain and Sir Bors rode forward, leaving the other two behind\nin ambush, and gave King Arthur's message. To which the Emperor replied,\n\"Return, and tell your lord that I am come to conquer him and all his\nland.\"\n\nAt this, Sir Gawain burned with anger, and cried out, \"I had rather than\nall France that I might fight with thee alone!\"\n\n\"And I also,\" said Sir Bors.\n\nThen a knight named Ganius, a near cousin of the Emperor, laughed out\naloud, and said, \"Lo! how these Britons boast and are full of pride,\nbragging as though they bare up all the world!\"\n\nAt these words, Sir Gawain could refrain no longer, but drew forth his\nsword and with one blow shore oft Ganius' head; then with Sir Bors, he\nturned his horse and rode over waters and through woods, back to the\nambush, where Sir Lionel and Sir Bedivere were waiting. The Romans\nfollowed fast behind them till the knights turned and stood, and then Sir\nBors smote the foremost of them through the body with a spear, and slew\nhim on the spot. Then came on Calibere, a huge Pavian, but Sir Bors\noverthrew him also. And then the company of Sir Lionel and Sir Bedivere\nbrake from their ambush and fell on the Romans, and slew and hewed them\ndown, and forced them to return and flee, chasing them to their tents.\n\nBut as they neared the camp, a great host more rushed forth, and turned\nthe battle backwards, and in the turmoil, Sir Bors and Sir Berel fell into\nthe Romans' hands. When Sir Gawain saw that, he drew his good sword\nGalotine, and swore to see King Arthur's face no more if those two knights\nwere not delivered; and then, with good Sir Idrus, made so sore an\nonslaught that the Romans fled and left Sir Bors and Sir Berel to their\nfriends. So the Britons returned in triumph to King Arthur, having slain\nmore than ten thousand Romans, and lost no man of worship from amongst\nthemselves.\n\nWhen the Emperor Lucius heard of that discomfiture he arose, with all his\narmy, to crush King Arthur, and met him in the vale of Soissons. Then\nspeaking to all his host, he said, \"Sirs, I admonish you that this day ye\nfight and acquit yourselves as men; and remembering how Rome is chief of\nall the earth, and mistress of the universal world, suffer not these\nbarbarous and savage Britons to abide our onset.\" At that, the trumpets\nblew so loud, that the ground trembled and shook.\n\nThen did the rival hosts draw near each other with great shoutings; and\nwhen they closed, no tongue can tell the fury of their smiting, and the\nsore struggling, wounds, and slaughter. Then King Arthur, with his\nmightiest knights, rode down into the thickest of the fight, and drew\nExcalibur, and slew as lightning slays for swiftness and for force. And in\nthe midmost crowd he met a giant, Galapas by name, and struck off both his\nlegs at the knee-joints; then saying, \"Now art thou a better size to deal\nwith!\" smote his head off at a second blow: and the body killed six men in\nfalling down.\n\nAnon, King Arthur spied where Lucius fought and worked great deeds of\nprowess with his own hands. Forthwith he rode at him, and each attacked\nthe other passing fiercely; till at the last, Lucius struck King Arthur\nwith a fearful wound across the face, and Arthur, in return, lifting up\nExcalibur on high, drove it with all his force upon the Emperor's head,\nshivering his helmet, crashing his head in halves, and splitting his body\nto the breast. And when the Romans saw their Emperor dead they fled in\nhosts of thousands; and King Arthur and his knights, and all his army\nfollowed them, and slew one hundred thousand men.\n\nThen returning to the field, King Arthur rode to the place where Lucius\nlay dead, and round him the kings of Egypt and Ethiopia, and seventeen\nother kings, with sixty Roman senators, all noble men. All these he\nordered to be carefully embalmed with aromatic gums, and laid in leaden\ncoffins, covered with their shields and arms and banners. Then calling for\nthree senators who were taken prisoners, he said to them, \"As the ransom\nof your lives, I will that ye take these dead bodies and carry them to\nRome, and there present them for me, with these letters saying I will\nmyself be shortly there. And I suppose the Romans will beware how they\nagain ask tribute of me; for tell them, these dead bodies that I send them\nare for the tribute they have dared to ask of me; and if they wish for\nmore, when I come I will pay them the rest.\"\n\nSo, with that charge, the three senators departed with the dead bodies,\nand went to Rome; the body of the Emperor being carried in a chariot\nblazoned with the arms of the empire, all alone, and the bodies of the\nkings two and two in chariots following.\n\nAfter the battle, King Arthur entered Lorraine, Brabant, and Flanders, and\nthence, subduing all the countries as he went, passed into Germany, and so\nbeyond the mountains into Lombardy and Tuscany. At length he came before a\ncity which refused to obey him, wherefore he sat down before it to besiege\nit. And after a long time thus spent, King Arthur called Sir Florence,\nand told him they began to lack food for his hosts--\"And not far from\nhence,\" said he, \"are great forests full of cattle belonging to my\nenemies. Go then, and bring by force all that thou canst find; and take\nwith thee Sir Gawain, my nephew, and Sir Clegis, Sir Claremond the Captain\nof Cardiff, and a strong band.\"\n\nAnon, those knights made ready, and rode over holts and hills, and through\nforests and woods, till they came to a great meadow full of fair flowers\nand grass, and there they rested themselves and their horses that night.\nAnd at the dawn of the next day, Sir Gawain took his horse and rode away\nfrom his fellows to seek some adventure. Soon he saw an armed knight\nwalking his horse by a wood's side, with his shield laced to his shoulder,\nand no attendant with him save a page, bearing a mighty spear; and on his\nshield were blazoned three gold griffins. When Sir Gawain spied him, he\nput his spear in rest, and riding straight to him, asked who he was. \"A\nTuscan,\" said he; \"and they mayest prove me when thou wilt, for thou shalt\nbe my prisoner ere we part.\"\n\nThen said Sir Gawain, \"Thou vauntest thee greatly, and speakest proud\nwords; yet I counsel thee, for all thy boastings, look to thyself the best\nthou canst.\"\n\nAt that they took their spears and ran at each other with all the might\nthey had, and smote each other through their shields into their shoulders;\nand then drawing swords smote with great strokes, till the fire sprang out\nof their helms. Then was Sir Gawain enraged, and with his good sword\nGalotine struck his enerny through shield and hauberk, and splintered into\npieces all the precious stones of it, and made so huge a wound that men\nmight see both lungs and liver. At that the Tuscan, groaning loudly,\nrushed on to Sir Gawain, and gave him a deep slanting stroke, and made a\nmighty wound and cut a great vein asunder, so that he bled fast. Then he\ncried out, \"Bind thy wound quickly up, Sir knight, for thou be-bloodest\nall thy horse and thy fair armour, and all the surgeons of the world shall\nnever staunch thy blood; for so shall it be to whomsoever is hurt with\nthis good sword.\"\n\nThen answered Sir Gawain, \"It grieveth me but little, and thy boastful\nwords give me no fear, for thou shalt suffer greater grief and sorrow ere\nwe part; but tell me quickly who can staunch this blood.\"\n\n\"That can I do,\" said the strange knight, \"and will, if thou wilt aid and\nsuccour me to become christened, and to believe on God, which now I do\nrequire of thee upon thy manhood.\"\n\n\"I am content,\" said Sir Gawain; \"and may God help me to grant all thy\nwishes. But tell mefirst, what soughtest thou thus here alone, and of what\nland art thou?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the knight, \"my name is Prianius, and my father is a great\nprince, who hath rebelled against Rome. He is descended from Alexander and\nHector, and of our lineage also were Joshua and Maccabaeus. I am of right\nthe king of Alexandria, and Africa, and all the outer isles, yet I would\nbelieve in the Lord thou worshippest, and for thy labour I will give thee\ntreasure enough. I was so proud in heart that I thought none my equal, but\nnow have I encountered with thee, who hast given me my fill of fighting;\nwherefore, I pray thee, Sir knight, tell me of thyself.\"\n\n\"I am no knight,\" said Sir Gawain; \"I have been brought up many years in\nthe wardrobe of the noble prince King Arthur, to mind his armour and\narray.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Prianius, \"if his varlets be so keen and fierce, his knights\nmust be passing good! Now, for the love of heaven, whether thou be knight\nor knave, tell me thy name.\"\n\n\"By heaven!\" said Gawain, \"now will I tell thee the truth. My name is Sir\nGawain, and I am a knight of the Round Table.\"\n\n\"Now am I better pleased,\" said Prianius, \"than if thou hadst given me all\nthe province of Paris the rich. I had rather have been torn by wild horses\nthan that any varlet should have won such victory over me as thou hast\ndone. But now, Sir knight, I warn thee that close by is the Duke of\nLorraine, with sixty thousand good men of war; and we had both best flee\nat once, for he will find us else, and we be sorely wounded and never\nlikely to recover. And let my page be careful that he blow no horn, for\nhard by are a hundred knights, my servants; and if they seize thee, no\nransom of gold or silver would acquit thee.\"\n\nThen Sir Gawain rode over a river to save himself, and Sir Prianius after\nhim, and so they both fled till they came to his companions who were in\nthe meadow, where they spent the night. When Sir Whishard saw Sir Gawain\nso hurt, he ran to him weeping, and asked him who it was had wounded him;\nand Sir Gawain told him how he had fought with that man--pointing to\nPrianius--who had salves to heal them both. \"But I can tell ye other\ntidings,\" said he--\"that soon we must encounter many enemies, for a great\narmy is close to us in our front.\"\n\nThen Prianius and Sir Gawain alighted and let their horses graze while\nthey unarmed, and when they took their armour and their clothing off, the\nhot blood ran down freshly from their wounds till it was piteous to see.\nBut Prianius took from his page a vial filled from the four rivers that\nflow out of Paradise, and anointed both their wounds with a certain balm,\nand washed them with that water, and within an hour afterwards they were\nboth as sound and whole as ever they had been. Then, at the sound of a\ntrumpet, all the knights were assembled to council; and after much\ntalking, Prianius said, \"Cease your words, for I warn you in yonder wood\nye shall find knights out of number, who will put out cattle for a decoy\nto lead you on; and ye are not seven hundred!\"\n\n\"Nevertheless,\" said Sir Gawain, \"let us at once encounter them, and see\nwhat they can do; and may the best have the victory.\"\n\nThen they saw suddenly an earl named Sir Ethelwold, and the Duke of\nDuchmen come leaping out of ambush of the woods in front, with many a\nthousand after them, and all rode straight down to the battle. And Sir\nGawain, full of ardour and courage, comforted his knights, saying, \"They\nall are ours.\" Then the seven hundred knights, in one close company, set\nspurs to their horses and began to gallop, and fiercely met their enemies.\nAnd then were men and horses slain and overthrown on every side, and in\nand out amidst them all, the knights of the Round Table pressed and\nthrust, and smote down to the earth all who withstood them, till at length\nthe whole of them turned back and fled.\n\n\"By heaven!\" said Sir Gawain, \"this gladdeneth well my heart, for now\nbehold them as they flee! they are full seventy thousand less in number\nthan they were an hour ago!\"\n\nThus was the battle quickly ended, and a great host of high lords and\nknights of Lombardy and Saracens left dead upon the field. Then Sir Gawain\nand his company collected a great plenty of cattle, and of gold and\nsilver, and all kind of treasure, and returned to King Arthur, where he\nstill kept the siege.\n\n\"Now God be thanked,\" cried he; \"but who is he that standeth yonder by\nhimself, and seemeth not a prisoner?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Gawain, \"he is a good man with his weapons, and hath\nmatched me; but cometh hither to be made a Christian. Had it not been for\nhis warnings, we none of us should have been here this day. I pray thee,\ntherefore, let him be baptized, for there can be few nobler men, or better\nknights.\"\n\nSo Prianius was christened, and made a duke and knight of the Round Table.\n\n[Illustration: Prianius was christened, and made a duke and knight of the\nRound Table.]\n\nPresently afterwards, they made a last attack upon the city, and entered\nby the walls on every side; and as the men were rushing to the pillage,\ncame the Duchess forth, with many ladies and damsels, and kneeled before\nKing Arthur; and besought him to receive their submission. To whom the\nking made answer, with a noble countenance, \"Madam, be well assured that\nnone shall harm ye, or your ladies; neither shall any that belong to thee\nbe hurt; but the Duke must abide my judgment.\" Then he commanded to stay\nthe assault and took the keys from the Duke's eldest son, who brought them\nkneeling. Anon the Duke was sent a prisoner to Dover for his life, and\nrents and taxes were assigned for dowry of the Duchess and her children.\n\nThen went he on with all his hosts, winning all towns and castles, and\nwasting them that refused obedience, till he came to Viterbo. From thence\nhe sent to Rome, to ask the senators whether they would receive him for\ntheir lord and governor. In answer, came out to him all the Senate who\nremained alive, and the Cardinals, with a majestic retinue and procession;\nand laying great treasures at his feet, they prayed him to come in at once\nto Rome, and there be peaceably crowned as Emperor. \"At this next\nChristmas,\" said King Arthur, \"will I be crowned, and hold my Round Table\nin your city.\"\n\nAnon he entered Rome, in mighty pomp and state; and after him came all his\nhosts, and his knights, and princes, and great lords, arrayed in gold and\njewels, such as never were beheld before. And then was he crowned Emperor\nby the Pope's hands, with all the highest solemnity that could be made.\n\nThen after his coronation, he abode in Rome for a season, settling his\nlands and giving kingdoms to his knights and servants, to each one after\nhis deserving, and in such wise fashion that no man among them all\ncomplained. Also he made many dukes and earls, and loaded all his\nmen-at-arms with riches and great treasures.\n\nWhen all this was done, the lords and knights, and all the men of great\nestate, came together before him, and said, \"Noble Emperor! by the\nblessing of Eternal God, thy mortal warfare is all finished, and thy\nconquests all achieved; for now in all the world is none so great and\nmighty as to dare make war with thee. Wherefore we beseech and heartily\npray thee of thy noble grace, to turn thee homeward, and to give us also\nleave to see our wives and homes again, for now we have been from them a\nlong season, and all thy journey is completed with great honour and\nworship.\"\n\n\"Ye say well,\" replied he, \"and to tempt God is no wisdom; therefore make\nready in all haste, and turn we home to England.\"\n\nSo King Arthur returned with his knights and lords and armies, in great\ntriumph and joy, through all the countries he had conquered, and commanded\nthat no man, upon pain of death, should rob or do any violence by the way.\nAnd crossing the sea, he came at length to Sandwich, where Queen Guinevere\nreceived him, and made great joy at his arrival. And through all the realm\nof Britain was there such rejoicing as no tongue can tell.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\n_The Adventures of Sir Lancelot du Lake_\n\n\nThen, at the following Pentecost, was held a feast of the Round Table at\nCaerleon, with high splendour; and all the knights thereof resorted to the\ncourt, and held many games and jousts. And therein Sir Lancelot increased\nin fame and worship above all men, for he overthrew all comers, and never\nwas unhorsed or worsted, save by treason and enchantment.\n\nWhen Queen Guinevere had seen his wondrous feats, she held him in great\nfavour, and smiled more on him than on any other knight. And ever since he\nfirst had gone to bring her to King Arthur, had Lancelot thought on her as\nfairest of all ladies, and done his best to win her grace. So the queen\noften sent for him, and bade him tell of his birth and strange adventures:\nhow he was only son of great King Ban of Brittany, and how, one night, his\nfather, with his mother Helen and himself, fled from his burning castle;\nhow his father, groaning deeply, fell to the ground and died of grief and\nwounds, and how his mother, running to her husband, left himself alone;\nhow, as he thus lay wailing, came the lady of the lake, and took him in\nher arms and went with him into the midst of the waters, where, with his\ncousins Lionel and Bors he had been cherished all his childhood until he\ncame to King Arthur's court; and how this was the reason why men called\nhim Lancelot du Lake.\n\nAnon it was ordained by King Arthur, that in every year at Pentecost there\nshould be held a festival of all the knights of the Round Table at\nCaerleon, or such other place as he should choose. And at those festivals\nshould be told publicly the most famous adventures of any knight during\nthe past year.\n\nSo, when Sir Lancelot saw Queen Guinevere rejoiced to hear his wanderings\nand adventures, he resolved to set forth yet again, and win more worship\nstill, that he might more increase her favour. Then he bade his cousin Sir\nLionel make ready, \"for,\" said he, \"we two will seek adventure.\" So they\nmounted their horses--armed at all points--and rode into a vast forest;\nand when they had passed through it, they came to a great plain, and the\nweather being very hot about noontide, Sir Lancelot greatly longed to\nsleep. Then Sir Lionel espied a great apple-tree standing by a hedge, and\nsaid, \"Brother, yonder is a fair shadow where we may rest ourselves and\nhorses.\"\n\n\"I am full glad of it,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"for all these seven years I\nhave not been so sleepy.\"\n\nSo they alighted there, and tied their horses up to sundry trees; and Sir\nLionel waked and watched while Sir Lancelot fell asleep, and slept passing\nfast.\n\nIn the meanwhile came three knights, riding as fast flying as ever they\ncould ride, and after them followed a single knight; but when Sir Lionel\nlooked at him, he thought he had never seen so great and strong a man, or\nso well furnished and apparelled. Anon he saw him overtake the last of\nthose who fled, and smite him to the ground; then came he to the second,\nand smote him such a stroke that horse and man went to the earth; then\nrode he to the third, likewise, and struck him off his horse more than a\nspear's length. With that he lighted from his horse, and bound all three\nknights fast with the reins of their own bridles.\n\nWhen Sir Lionel saw this he thought the time was come to prove himself\nagainst him, so quietly and cautiously, lest he should wake Sir Lancelot,\nhe took his horse and mounted and rode after him. Presently overtaking\nhim, he cried aloud to him to turn, which instantly he did, and smote Sir\nLionel so hard that horse and man went down forthwith. Then took he up Sir\nLionel, and threw him bound over his own horse's back; and so he served\nthe three other knights, and rode them away to his own castle. There they\nwere disarmed, stripped naked, and beaten with thorns, and afterwards\nthrust into a deep prison, where many more knights, also, made great moans\nand lamentations, saying, \"Alas, alas! there is no man can help us but Sir\nLancelot, for no other knight can match this tyrant Turquine, our\nconqueror.\"\n\nBut all this while, Sir Lancelot lay sleeping soundly under the\napple-tree. And, as it chanced, there passed that way four queens, of high\nestate, riding upon four white mules, under four canopies of green silk\nborne on spears, to keep them from the sun. As they rode thus, they heard\na great horse grimly neigh, and, turning them about, soon saw a sleeping\nknight that lay all armed under an apple-tree; and when they saw his\nface, they knew it was Lancelot of the Lake.\n\nThen they began to strive which of them should have the care of him. But\nQueen Morgan le Fay, King Arthur's half sister, the great sorceress, was\none of them, and said \"We need not strive for him, I have enchanted him,\nso that for six hours more he shall not wake. Let us take him to my\ncastle, and, when he wakes, himself shall choose which one of us he would\nrather serve.\" So Sir Lancelot was laid upon his shield and borne on\nhorseback between two knights, to the castle, and there laid in a cold\nchamber, till the spell should pass.\n\nAnon, they sent him a fair damsel, bearing his supper, who asked him,\n\"What cheer?\"\n\n\"I cannot tell, fair damsel,\" said he, \"for I know not how I came into\nthis castle, if it were not by enchantment.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"be of good heart, and to-morrow at the dawn of day, ye\nshall know more.\"\n\nAnd so she left him alone, and there he lay all night. In the morning\nearly came the four queens to him, passing richly dressed; and said, \"Sir\nknight, thou must understand that thou art our prisoner, and that we know\nthee well for King Ban's son, Sir Lancelot du Lake. And though we know\nfull well there is one lady only in this world may have thy love, and she\nQueen Guinevere--King Arthur's wife--yet now are we resolved to have thee\nto serve one of us; choose, therefore, of us four which thou wilt serve. I\nam Queen Morgan le Fay, Queen of the land of Gore, and here also is the\nQueen of Northgales, and the Queen of Eastland, and the Queen of the Out\nIsles. Choose, then, at once, for else shall thou abide here, in this\nprison, till thy death.\"\n\n\"It is a hard case,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"that either I must die, or choose\none of you for my mistress! Yet had I rather die in this prison than serve\nany living creature against my will. So take this for my answer. I will\nserve none of ye, for ye be false enchantresses. And as for my lady, Queen\nGuinevere, whom lightly ye have spoken of, were I at liberty I would prove\nit upon you or upon yours she is the truest lady living to her lord the\nking.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the queen, \"is this your answer, that ye refuse us all?\"\n\n\"Yea, on my life,\" said Lancelot, \"refused ye be of me.\"\n\nSo they departed from him in great wrath, and left him sorrowfully\ngrieving in his dungeon.\n\nAt noon the damsel came to him and brought his dinner, and asked him as\nbefore, \"What cheer?\"\n\n\"Truly, fair damsel,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"in all my life never so ill.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" replied she, \"I grieve to see ye so, but if ye do as I advise, I\ncan help ye out of this distress, and will do so if you promise me a\nboon.\"\n\n\"Fair damsel,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"right willingly will I grant it thee,\nfor sorely do I dread these four witch-queens, who have destroyed and\nslain many a good knight with their enchantments.\"\n\nThen said the damsel, \"Sir, wilt thou promise me to help my father on next\nTuesday, for he hath a tournament with the King of Northgales, and last\nTuesday lost the field through three knights of King Arthur's court, who\ncame against him. And if next Tuesday thou wilt aid him, to-morrow,\nbefore daylight, by God's grace, I will deliver thee.\"\n\n\"Fair maiden,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"tell me thy father's name and I will\nanswer thee.\"\n\n\"My father is King Bagdemagus,\" said she.\n\n\"I know him well,\" replied Sir Lancelot, \"for a noble king and a good\nknight; and by the faith of my body I will do him all the service I am\nable on that day.\"\n\n\"Grammercy to thee, Sir knight,\" said the damsel.\n\n\"To-morrow, when thou art delivered from this place, ride ten miles hence\nunto an abbey of white monks, and there abide until I bring my father to\nthee.\"\n\n\"So be it,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"as I am a true knight.\"\n\nSo she departed, and on the morrow, early, came again, and let him out of\ntwelve gates, differently locked, and brought him to his armour; and when\nhe was all armed, she brought him his horse also, and lightly he saddled\nhim, and took a great spear in his hand, and mounted and rode forth,\nsaying, as he went, \"Fair damsel, I shall not fail thee, by the grace of\nGod.\"\n\nAnd all that day he rode in a great forest, and could find no highway, and\nspent the night in the wood; but the next morning found his road, and came\nto the abbey of white monks. And there he saw King Bagdemagus and his\ndaughter waiting for him. So when they were together in a chamber, Sir\nLancelot told the king how he had been betrayed by an enchantment, and how\nhis brother Lionel was gone he knew not where, and how the damsel had\ndelivered him from the castle of Queen Morgan le Fay. \"Wherefore while I\nlive,\" said he, \"I shall do service to herself and all her kindred.\"\n\n\"Then am I sure of thy aid,\" said the king, \"on Tuesday now next coming?\"\n\n\"Yea, sir, I shall not fail thee,\" said Sir Lancelot; \"but what knights\nwere they who last week defeated thee, and took part with the King of\nNorthgales?\"\n\n\"Sir Mador de la Port, Sir Modred, and Sir Gahalatine,\" replied the king.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"as I understand, the tournament shall take\nplace but three miles from this abbey; send then to me here, three knights\nof thine, the best thou hast, and let them all have plain white shields,\nsuch as I also will; then will we four come suddenly into the midst\nbetween both parties, and fall upon thy enemies, and grieve them all we\ncan, and none will know us who we are.\"\n\nSo, on the Tuesday, Sir Lancelot and the three knights lodged themselves\nin a small grove hard by the lists. Then came into the field the King of\nNorthgales, with one hundred and sixty helms, and the three knights of\nKing Arthur's court, who stood apart by themselves. And when King\nBagdemagus had arrived, with eighty helms, both companies set all their\nspears in rest and came together with a mighty clash, wherein were slain\ntwelve knights of King Bagdemagus, and six of the King of Northgales; and\nthe party of King Bagdemagus was driven back.\n\nWith that, came Sir Lancelot, and thrust into the thickest of the press,\nand smote down with one spear five knights, and brake the backs of four,\nand cast down the King of Northgales, and brake his thigh by the fall.\nWhen the three knights of Arthur's court saw this, they rode at Sir\nLancelot, and each after other attacked him; but he overthrew them all,\nand smote them nigh to death. Then taking a new spear, he bore down to the\nground sixteen more knights, and hurt them all so sorely, that they could\ncarry arms no more that day. And when his spear at length was broken, he\ntook yet another, and smote down twelve knights more, the most of whom he\nwounded mortally, till in the end the party of the King of Northgales\nwould joust no more, and the victory was cried to King Bagdemagus.\n\n[Illustration: Sir Lancelot smote down with one spear five knights, and\nbrake the backs of four, and cast down the King of Northgales.]\n\nThen Sir Lancelot rode forth with King Bagdemagus to his castle, and there\nhe feasted with great cheer and welcome, and received many royal gifts.\nAnd on the morrow he took leave and went to find his brother Lionel.\n\nAnon, by chance, he came to the same forest where the four queens had\nfound him sleeping, and there he met a damsel riding on a white palfrey.\nWhen they had saluted each other, Sir Lancelot said, \"Fair damsel, knowest\nthou where any adventures may be had in this country?\"\n\n\"Sir knight,\" said she, \"there are adventures great enough close by if\nthou darest prove them.\"\n\n\"Why should I not,\" said he, \"since for that cause I came here?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the damsel, \"hard by this place there dwelleth a knight that\ncannot be defeated by any man, so great and perilously strong he is. His\nname is Sir Turquine, and in the prisons of his castle lie three score\nknights and four, mostly from King Arthur's court, whom he hath taken with\nhis own hands. But promise me, ere thou undertakest their deliverance, to\ngo and help me afterwards, and free me and many other ladies that are\ndistressed by a false knight.\" \"Bring me but to this felon Turquine,\"\nquoth Sir Lancelot, \"and I will afterwards fulfil all your wishes.\"\n\nSo the damsel went before, and brought him to a ford, and a tree whereon a\ngreat brass basin hung; and Sir Lancelot beat with his spear-end upon the\nbasin, long and hard, until he beat the bottom of it out, but he saw\nnothing. Then he rode to and fro before the castle gates for well-nigh\nhalf an hour, and anon saw a great knight riding from the distance,\ndriving a horse before him, across which hung an armed man bound. And when\nthey came near, Sir Lancelot knew the prisoner for a knight of the Round\nTable. By that time, the great knight who drove the prisoner saw Sir\nLancelot, and each of them began to settle his spear, and to make ready.\n\n\"Fair sir,\" then said Sir Lancelot, \"put off that wounded knight, I pray\nthee, from his horse, and let him rest while thou and I shall prove our\nstrength upon each other; for, as I am told, thou doest, and hast done,\ngreat shame and injury to knights of the Round Table. Wherefore, I warn\nthee now, defend thyself.\"\n\n\"If thou mayest be of the Round Table,\" answered Turquine, \"I defy thee,\nand all thy fellows.\"\n\n\"That is saying overmuch,\" said Sir Lancelot.\n\nThen, setting their lances in rest, they spurred their horses towards each\nother, as fast as they could go, and smote so fearfully upon each other's\nshields, that both their horses' backs brake under them. As soon as they\ncould clear their saddles, they took their shields before them, and drew\ntheir swords, and came together eagerly, and fought with great and\ngrievous strokes; and soon they both had many grim and fearful wounds, and\nbled in streams. Thus they fought two hours and more, thrusting and\nsmiting at each other, wherever they could hit.\n\nAnon, they both were breathless, and stood leaning on their swords.\n\n\"Now, comrade,\" said Sir Turquine, \"let us wait awhile, and answer me what\nI shall ask thee.\"\n\n\"Say on,\" said Lancelot.\n\n\"Thou art,\" said Turquine, \"the best man I ever met, and seemest like one\nthat I hate above all other knights that live; but if thou be not he, I\nwill make peace with thee, and for sake of thy great valour, will deliver\nall the three score prisoners and four who lie within my dungeons, and\nthou and I will be companions evermore. Tell me, then, thy name.\"\n\n\"Thou sayest well,\" replied Sir Lancelot; \"but who is he thou hatest so\nabove all others?\"\n\n\"His name,\" said Turquine, \"is Sir Lancelot of the Lake; and he slew my\nbrother Sir Carados, at the dolorous tower; wherefore, if ever I shall\nmeet with him, one of us two shall slay the other; and thereto I have\nsworn by a great oath. And to discover and destroy him I have slain a\nhundred knights, and crippled utterly as many more, and many have died in\nmy prisons; and now, as I have told thee, I have many more therein, who\nall shall be delivered, if thou tell me thy name, and it be not Sir\nLancelot.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Lancelot, \"I am that knight, son of King Ban of Benwick, and\nKnight of the Round Table; so now I defy thee to do thy best!\"\n\n\"Aha!\" said Turquine, with a shout, \"is it then so at last! Thou art more\nwelcome to my sword than ever knight or lady was to feast, for never\nshall we part till one of us be dead.\"\n\nThen did they hurtle together like two wild bulls, slashing and lashing\nwith their shields and swords, and sometimes falling both on to the\nground. For two more hours they fought so, and at the last Sir Turquine\ngrew very faint, and gave a little back, and bare his shield full low for\nweariness. When Sir Lancelot saw him thus, he leaped upon him fiercely as\na lion, and took him by the crest of his helmet, and dragged him to his\nknees; and then he tore his helmet off and smote his neck asunder.\n\nThen he arose, and went to the damsel who had brought him to Sir Turquine,\nand said, \"I am ready, fair lady, to go with thee upon thy service, but I\nhave no horse.\"\n\n\"Fair sir,\" said she, \"take ye this horse of the wounded knight whom\nTurquine but just now was carrying to his prisons, and send that knight on\nto deliver all the prisoners.\"\n\nSo Sir Lancelot went to the knight and prayed him for the loan of his\nhorse.\n\n\"Fair lord,\" said he, \"ye are right welcome, for to-day ye have saved both\nme and my horse; and I see that ye are the best knight in all the world,\nfor in my sight have ye slain the mightiest man and the best knight,\nexcept thyself, I ever saw.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"I thank thee well; and now go into yonder\ncastle, where thou shall find many noble knights of the Round Table, for I\nhave seen their shields hung on the trees around. On yonder tree alone\nthere are Sir Key's, Sir Brandel's, Sir Marhaus', Sir Galind's, and Sir\nAliduke's, and many more; and also my two kinsmen's shields, Sir Ector de\nMaris' and Sir Lionel's. And I pray you greet them all from me, Sir\nLancelot of the Lake, and tell them that I bid them help themselves to any\ntreasures they can find within the castle; and that I pray my brethren,\nLionel and Ector, to go to King Arthur's court and stay there till I come.\nAnd by the high feast at Pentecost I must be there; but now I must ride\nforth with this damsel to fulfil my promise.\"\n\nSo, as they went, the damsel told him, \"Sir, we are now near the place\nwhere the foul knight haunteth, who robbeth and distresseth all ladies and\ngentlewomen travelling past this way, against whom I have sought thy aid.\"\n\nThen they arranged that she should ride on foremost, and Sir Lancelot\nshould follow under cover of the trees by the roadside, and if he saw her\ncome to any mishap, he should ride forth and deal with him that troubled\nher. And as the damsel rode on at a soft ambling pace, a knight and page\nburst forth from the roadside and forced the damsel from her horse, till\nshe cried out for help.\n\nThen came Sir Lancelot rushing through the wood as fast as he might fly,\nand all the branches of the trees crackled and waved around him. \"O thou\nfalse knight and traitor to all knighthood!\" shouted he, \"who taught thee\nto distress fair ladies thus?\"\n\nThe foul knight answered nothing, but drew out his sword and rode at Sir\nLancelot, who threw his spear away and drew his own sword likewise, and\nstruck him such a mighty blow as clave his head down to the throat. \"Now\nhast thou the wages thou long hast earned!\" said he; and so departed from\nthe damsel.\n\nThen for two days he rode in a great forest, and had but scanty food and\nlodging, and on the third day he rode over a long bridge, when suddenly\nthere started up a passing foul churl, and smote his horse across the\nnose, so that he started and turned back, rearing with pain. \"Why ridest\nthou over here without my leave?\" said he.\n\n\"Why should I not?\" said Sir Lancelot; \"there is no other way to ride.\"\n\n\"Thou shalt not pass by here,\" cried out the churl, and dashed at him with\na great club full of iron spikes, till Sir Lancelot was fain to draw his\nsword and smite him dead upon the earth.\n\nAt the end of the bridge was a fair village, and all the people came and\ncried, \"Ah, sir! a worse deed for thyself thou never didst, for thou hast\nslain the chief porter of the castle yonder!\" But he let them talk as they\npleased, and rode straight forward to the castle.\n\nThere he alighted, and tied his horse to a ring in the wall; and going in,\nhe saw a wide green court, and thought it seemed a noble place to fight\nin. And as he looked about, he saw many people watching him from doors and\nwindows, making signs of warning, and saying, \"Fair knight, thou art\nunhappy.\" In the next moment came upon him two great giants, well armed\nsave their heads, and with two horrible clubs in their hands. Then he put\nhis shield before him, and with it warded off one giant's stroke, and\nclove the other with his sword from the head downward to the chest. When\nthe first giant saw that, he ran away mad with fear; but Sir Lancelot ran\nafter him, and smote him through the shoulder, and shore him down his\nback, so that he fell dead.\n\nThen he walked onward to the castle hall, and saw a band of sixty ladies\nand young damsels coming forth, who knelt to him, and thanked him for\ntheir freedom. \"For, sir,\" said they, \"the most of us have been prisoners\nhere these seven years; and have been kept at all manner of work to earn\nour meat, though we be all great gentlewomen born. Blessed be the time\nthat thou wast born, for never did a knight a deed of greater worship than\nthou hast this day, and thereto will we all bear witness in all times and\nplaces! Tell us, therefore, noble knight, thy name and court, that we may\ntell them to our friends!\" And when they heard it, they all cried aloud,\n\"Well may it be so, for we knew that no knight save thou shouldst ever\novercome those giants; and many a long day have we sighed for thee; for\nthe giants feared no other name among all knights but thine.\"\n\nThen he told them to take the treasures of the castle as a reward for\ntheir grievances, and to return to their homes, and so rode away into many\nstrange and wild countries. And at last, after many days, by chance he\ncame, near the night time, to a fair mansion, wherein he found an old\ngentlewoman, who gave him and his horse good cheer. And when bed time was\ncome, his host brought him to a chamber over a gate, and there he unarmed,\nand went to bed and fell asleep.\n\nBut soon thereafter came one riding in great haste, and knocking\nvehemently at the gate below, which when Sir Lancelot heard, he rose and\nlooked out of the window, and, by the moonlight, saw three knights come\nriding fiercely after one man, and lashing on him all at once with their\nswords, while the one knight nobly fought all.\n\nThen Sir Lancelot quickly armed himself, and getting through the window,\nlet himself down by a sheet into the midst of them, crying out, \"Turn ye\non me, ye cowards, and leave fighting with that knight!\" Then they all\nleft Sir Key, for the first knight was he, and began to fall upon Sir\nLancelot furiously. And when Sir Key would have come forward to assist\nhim, Sir Lancelot refused, and cried, \"Leave me alone to deal with them.\"\nAnd presently, with six great strokes, he felled them all.\n\nThen they cried out, \"Sir knight, we yield us unto thee, as to a man of\nmight!\"\n\n\"I will not take your yielding!\" said he; \"yield ye to Sir Key, the\nseneschal, or I will have your lives.\"\n\n\"Fair knight,\" said they, \"excuse us in that thing, for we have chased Sir\nKey thus far, and should have overcome him but for thee.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"do as ye will, for ye may live or die; but, if\nye live, ye shall be holden to Sir Key.\"\n\nThen they yielded to him; and Sir Lancelot commanded them to go unto King\nArthur's court at the next Pentecost, and say, Sir Key had sent them\nprisoners to Queen Guinevere. And this they sware to do upon their swords.\n\nThen Sir Lancelot knocked at the gate with his sword-hilt till his hostess\ncame and let him in again, and Sir Key also. And when the light came, Sir\nKey knew Sir Lancelot, and knelt and thanked him for his courtesy, and\ngentleness, and kindness. \"Sir,\" said he, \"I have done no more than what I\nought to do, and ye are welcome; therefore let us now take rest.\"\n\nSo when Sir Key had supped, they went to sleep, and Sir Lancelot and he\nslept in the same bed. On the morrow, Sir Lancelot rose early, and took\nSir Key's shield and armour and set forth. When Sir Key arose, he found\nSir Lancelot's armour by his bedside, and his own arms gone. \"Now, by my\nfaith,\" thought he, \"I know that he will grieve some knights of our king's\ncourt; for those who meet him will be bold to joust with him, mistaking\nhim for me, while I, dressed in his shield and armour, shall surely ride\nin peace.\"\n\nThen Sir Lancelot, dressed in Sir Key's apparel, rode long in a great\nforest, and came at last to a low country, full of rivers and fair\nmeadows, and saw a bridge before him, whereon were three silk tents of\ndivers colours, and to each tent was hung a white shield, and by each\nshield stood a knight. So Sir Lancelot went by without speaking a word.\nAnd when he had passed, the three knights said it was the proud Sir Key,\n\"who thinketh no knight equal to himself, although the contrary is full\noften proved upon him.\"\n\n\"By my faith!\" said one of them, named Gaunter, \"I will ride after and\nattack him for all his pride, and ye shall watch my speed.\"\n\nThen, taking shield and spear, he mounted and rode after Sir Lancelot, and\ncried, \"Abide, proud knight, and turn, for thou shalt not pass free!\"\n\nSo Sir Lancelot turned, and each one put his spear in rest and came with\nall his might against the other. And Sir Gaunter's spear brake short, but\nSir Lancelot smote him down, both horse and man.\n\nWhen the other knights saw this, they said, \"Yonder is not Sir Key, but a\nbigger man.\"\n\n\"I dare wager my head,\" said Sir Gilmere, \"yonder knight hath slain Sir\nKey, and taken his horse and harness.\"\n\n\"Be it so, or not,\" said Sir Reynold, the third brother; \"let us now go to\nour brother Gaunter's rescue; we shall have enough to do to match that\nknight, for, by his stature, I believe it is Sir Lancelot or Sir\nTristram.\"\n\nAnon, they took their horses and galloped after Sir Lancelot; and Sir\nGilmere first assailed him, but was smitten down forthwith, and lay\nstunned on the earth. Then said Sir Reynold, \"Sir knight, thou art a\nstrong man, and, I believe, hast slain my two brothers, wherefore my heart\nis sore against thee; yet, if I might with honour, I would avoid thee.\nNevertheless, that cannot be, so keep thyself.\" And so they hurtled\ntogether with all their might, and each man shivered his spear to pieces;\nand then they drew their swords and lashed out eagerly.\n\nAnd as they fought, Sir Gaunter and Sir Gilmere presently arose and\nmounted once again, and came down at full tilt upon Sir Lancelot. But,\nwhen he saw them coming, he put forth all his strength, and struck Sir\nReynold off his horse. Then, with two other strokes, he served the others\nlikewise.\n\nAnon, Sir Reynold crept along the ground, with his head all bloody, and\ncame towards Sir Lancelot. \"It is enough,\" said Lancelot, \"I was not far\nfrom thee when thou wast made a knight, Sir Reynold, and know thee for a\ngood and valiant man, and was full loth to slay thee.\"\n\n\"Grammercy for thy gentleness!\" said Sir Reynold. \"I and my brethren will\nstraightway yield to thee when we know thy name, for well we know that\nthou art not Sir Key.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"be it as it may, but ye shall yield to\nQueen Guinevere at the next feast of Pentecost as prisoners, and say that\nSir Key sent ye.\"\n\nThen they swore to him it should be done as he commanded. And so Sir\nLancelot passed on, and the three brethren helped each other's wounds as\nbest they might.\n\nThen rode Sir Lancelot forward into a deep forest, and came upon four\nknights of King Arthur's court, under an oak tree--Sir Sagramour, Sir\nEctor, Sir Gawain, and Sir Ewaine. And when they spied him, they thought\nhe was Sir Key. \"Now by my faith,\" said Sir Sagramour, \"I will prove Sir\nKey's might!\" and taking his spear he rode towards Sir Lancelot.\n\nBut Sir Lancelot was aware of him, and, setting his spear in rest, smote\nhim so sorely, that horse and man fell to the earth.\n\n\"Lo!\" cried Sir Ector, \"I see by the buffet that knight hath given our\nfellow he is stronger than Sir Key. Now will I try what I can do against\nhim!\" So Sir Ector took his spear, and galloped at Sir Lancelot; and Sir\nLancelot met him as he came, and smote him through shield and shoulder, so\nthat he fell, but his own spear was not broken.\n\n\"By my faith,\" cried Sir Ewaine, \"yonder is a strong knight, and must have\nslain Sir Key, and taken his armour! By his strength, I see it will be\nhard to match him.\" So saying he rode towards Sir Lancelot, who met him\nhalfway and struck him so fiercely, that at one blow he overthrew him\nalso.\n\n\"Now,\" said Sir Gawain, \"will I encounter him.\" So he took a good spear in\nhis hand, and guarded himself with his shield. And he and Sir Lancelot\nrode against each other, with their horses at full speed, and furiously\nsmote each other on the middle of their shields; but Sir Gawain's spear\nbroke short asunder, and Sir Lancelot charged so mightily upon him, that\nhis horse and he both fell, and rolled upon the ground.\n\n\"Ah,\" said Sir Lancelot, smiling, as he rode away from the four knights,\n\"heaven give joy to him who made this spear, for never held I better in my\nhand.\"\n\nBut the four knights said to each other, \"Truly one spear hath felled us\nall.\"\n\n\"I dare lay my life,\" said Sir Gawain, \"it is Sir Lancelot. I know him by\nhis riding.\"\n\nSo they all departed for the court.\n\nAnd as Sir Lancelot rode still in the forest, he saw a black bloodhound,\nrunning with its head towards the ground, as if it tracked a deer. And\nfollowing after it, he came to a great pool of blood. But the hound, ever\nand anon looking behind, ran through a great marsh, and over a bridge,\ntowards an old manor house. So Sir Lancelot followed, and went into the\nhall, and saw a dead knight lying there, whose wounds the hound licked.\nAnd a lady stood behind him, weeping and wringing her hands, who cried, \"O\nknight! too great is the sorrow which thou hast brought me!\"\n\n\"Why say ye so?\" replied Sir Lancelot; \"for I never harmed this knight,\nand am full sorely grieved to see thy sorrow.\"\n\n\"Nay, sir,\" said the lady, \"I see it is not thou hast slain my husband,\nfor he that truly did that deed is deeply wounded, and shall never more\nrecover.\"\n\n\"What is thy husband's name?\" said Sir Lancelot.\n\n\"His name,\" she answered, \"was Sir Gilbert--one of the best knights in all\nthe world; but I know not his name who hath slain him.\"\n\n\"God send thee comfort,\" said Sir Lancelot, and departed again into the\nforest.\n\nAnd as he rode, he met with a damsel who knew him, who cried out, \"Well\nfound, my lord! I pray ye of your knighthood help my brother, who is sore\nwounded and ceases not to bleed, for he fought this day with Sir Gilbert,\nand slew him, but was himself well nigh slain. And there is a sorceress,\nwho dwelleth in a castle hard by, and she this day hath told me that my\nbrother's wound shall never be made whole until I find a knight to go into\nthe Chapel Perilous, and bring from thence a sword and the bloody cloth in\nwhich the wounded knight was wrapped.\"\n\n\"This is a marvellous thing!\" said Sir Lancelot; \"but what is your\nbrother's name?\"\n\n\"His name, sir,\" she replied, \"is Sir Meliot de Logres.\"\n\n\"He is a Fellow of the Round Table,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"and truly will I\ndo my best to help him.\"\n\n\"Then, sir,\" said she, \"follow this way, and it will bring ye to the\nChapel Perilous. I will abide here till God send ye hither again; for if\nye speed not, there is no living knight who may achieve that adventure.\"\n\nSo Sir Lancelot departed, and when he came to the Chapel Perilous he\nalighted, and tied his horse to the gate. And as soon as he was within\nthe churchyard, he saw on the front of the chapel many shields of knights\nwhom he had known, turned upside down. Then saw he in the pathway thirty\nmighty knights, taller than any men whom he had ever seen, all armed in\nblack armour, with their swords drawn; and they gnashed their teeth upon\nhim as he came. But he put his shield before him, and took his sword in\nhand, ready to do battle with them. And when he would have cut his way\nthrough them, they scattered on every side and let him pass. Then he went\ninto the chapel, and saw therein no light but of a dim lamp burning. Then\nhe was aware of a corpse in the midst of the chapel, covered with a silken\ncloth, and so stooped down and cut off a piece of the cloth, whereat the\nearth beneath him trembled. Then saw he a sword lying by the dead knight,\nand taking it in his hand, he hied him from the chapel. As soon as he was\nin the churchyard again, all the thirty knights cried out to him with\nfierce voices, \"Sir Lancelot! lay that sword from thee, or thou diest!\"\n\n\"Whether I live or die,\" said he, \"ye shall fight for it ere ye take it\nfrom me.\"\n\nWith that they let him pass.\n\nAnd further on, beyond the chapel, he met a fair damsel, who said, \"Sir\nLancelot, leave that sword behind thee, or thou diest.\"\n\n[Illustration: Beyond the chapel, he met a fair damsel, who said, \"Sir\nLancelot, leave that sword behind thee, or thou diest.\"]\n\n\"I will not leave it,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"for any asking.\"\n\n\"Then, gentle knight,\" said the damsel, \"I pray thee kiss me once.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"that God forbid!\"\n\n\"Alas!\" cried she, \"I have lost all my labour! but hadst thou kissed me,\nthy life's days had been all done!\"\n\n\"Heaven save me from thy subtle crafts!\" said Sir Lancelot; and therewith\ntook his horse and galloped forth.\n\nAnd when he was departed, the damsel sorrowed greatly, and died in fifteen\ndays. Her name was Ellawes, the sorceress.\n\nThen came Sir Lancelot to Sir Meliot's sister, who, when she saw him,\nclapped her hands and wept for joy, and took him to the castle hard by,\nwhere Sir Meliot was. And when Sir Lancelot saw Sir Meliot, he knew him,\nthough he was pale as ashes for loss of blood. And Sir Meliot, when he saw\nSir Lancelot, kneeled to him and cried aloud, \"O lord, Sir Lancelot! help\nme!\"\n\nAnd thereupon, Sir Lancelot went to him and touched his wounds with the\nsword, and wiped them with the piece of bloody cloth. And immediately he\nwas as whole as though he had been never wounded. Then was there great joy\nbetween him and Sir Meliot; and his sister made Sir Lancelot good cheer.\nSo on the morrow, he took his leave, that he might go to King Arthur's\ncourt, \"for,\" said he, \"it draweth nigh the feast of Pentecost, and there,\nby God's grace, shall ye then find me.\"\n\nAnd riding through many strange countries, over marshes and valleys, he\ncame at length before a castle. As he passed by he heard two little bells\nringing, and looking up, he saw a falcon flying overhead, with bells tied\nto her feet, and long strings dangling from them. And as the falcon flew\npast an elm-tree, the strings caught in the boughs, so that she could fly\nno further.\n\nIn the meanwhile, came a lady from the castle and cried, \"Oh, Sir\nLancelot! as thou art the flower of all knights in the world, help me to\nget my hawk, for she hath slipped away from me, and if she be lost, my\nlord my husband is so hasty, he will surely slay me!\"\n\n\"What is thy lord's name?\" said Sir Lancelot.\n\n\"His name,\" said she, \"is Sir Phelot, a knight of the King of Northgales.\"\n\n\"Fair lady,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"since you know my name, and require me,\non my knighthood, to help you, I will do what I can to get your hawk.\"\n\nAnd thereupon alighting, he tied his horse to the same tree, and prayed\nthe lady to unarm him. So when he was unarmed, he climbed up and reached\nthe falcon, and threw it to the lady.\n\nThen suddenly came down, out of the wood, her husband, Sir Phelot, all\narmed, with a drawn sword in his hand, and said, \"Oh, Sir Lancelot! now\nhave I found thee as I would have thee!\" and stood at the trunk of the\ntree to slay him.\n\n\"Ah, lady!\" cried Sir Lancelot, \"why have ye betrayed me?\"\n\n\"She hath done as I commanded her,\" said Sir Phelot, \"and thine hour is\ncome that thou must die.\"\n\n\"It were shame,\" said Lancelot, \"for an armed to slay an unarmed man.\"\n\n\"Thou hast no other favour from me,\" said Sir Phelot.\n\n\"Alas!\" cried Sir Lancelot, \"that ever any knight should die weaponless!\"\nAnd looking overhead, he saw a great bough without leaves, and wrenched it\noff the tree, and suddenly leaped down. Then Sir Phelot struck at him\neagerly, thinking to have slain him, but Sir Lancelot put aside the stroke\nwith the bough, and therewith smote him on the side of the head, till he\nfell swooning to the ground. And tearing his sword from out his hands, he\nshore his neck through from the body. Then did the lady shriek dismally,\nand swooned as though she would die. But Sir Lancelot put on his armour,\nand with haste took his horse and departed thence, thanking God he had\nescaped that peril.\n\nAnd as he rode through a valley, among many wild ways, he saw a knight,\nwith a drawn sword, chasing a lady to slay her. And seeing Sir Lancelot,\nshe cried and prayed to him to come and rescue her.\n\nAt that he went up, saying, \"Fie on thee, knight! why wilt thou slay this\nlady? Thou doest shame to thyself and all knights.\"\n\n\"What hast thou to do between me and my wife?\" replied the knight. \"I will\nslay her in spite of thee.\"\n\n\"Thou shall not harm her,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"till we have first fought\ntogether.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" answered the knight, \"thou doest ill, for this lady hath betrayed\nme.\"\n\n\"He speaketh falsely,\" said the lady, \"for he is jealous of me without\ncause, as I shall answer before Heaven; but as thou art named the most\nworshipful knight in the world, I pray thee of thy true knighthood to save\nme, for he is without mercy.\"\n\n\"Be of good cheer,\" said Sir Lancelot; \"it shall not lie within his power\nto harm thee.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the knight, \"I will be ruled as ye will have me.\"\n\nSo Sir Lancelot rode between the knight and the lady. And when they had\nridden awhile, the knight cried out suddenly to Sir Lancelot to turn and\nsee what men they were who came riding after them; and while Sir Lancelot,\nthinking not of treason, turned to look, the knight, with one great\nstroke, smote off the lady's head.\n\nThen was Sir Lancelot passing wroth, and cried, \"Thou traitor! Thou hast\nshamed me for ever!\" and, alighting from his horse, he drew his sword to\nhave slain him instantly; but the knight fell on the ground and clasped\nSir Lancelot's knees, and cried out for mercy. \"Thou shameful knight,\"\nanswered Lancelot, \"thou mayest have no mercy, for thou showedst none,\ntherefore arise and fight with me.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the knight, \"I will not rise till thou dost grant me mercy.\"\n\n\"Now will I deal fairly by thee,\" said Sir Lancelot; \"I will unarm me to\nmy shirt, and have my sword only in my hand, and if thou canst slay me\nthou shall be quit for ever.\"\n\n\"That will I never do,\" said the knight.\n\n\"Then,\" answered Sir Lancelot, \"take this lady and the head, and bear it\nwith thee, and swear to me upon thy sword never to rest until thou comest\nto Queen Guinevere.\"\n\n\"That will I do,\" said he.\n\n\"Now,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"tell me thy name.\"\n\n\"It is Pedivere,\" answered the knight.\n\n\"In a shameful hour wert thou born,\" said Sir Lancelot.\n\nSo Sir Pedivere departed, bearing with him the dead lady and her head. And\nwhen he came to Winchester, where the Queen was with King Arthur, he told\nthem all the truth; and afterwards did great and heavy penance many\nyears, and became an holy hermit.\n\n\"So, two days before the Feast of Pentecost, Sir Lancelot returned to the\ncourt, and King Arthur was full glad of his coming. And when Sir Gawain,\nSir Ewaine, Sir Sagramour, and Sir Ector, saw him in Sir Key's armour,\nthey knew well it was he who had smitten them all down with one spear.\nAnon, came all the knights Sir Turquine had taken prisoners, and gave\nworship and honour to Sir Lancelot. Then Sir Key told the King how Sir\nLancelot had rescued him when he was in near danger of his death; \"and,\"\nsaid Sir Key, \"he made the knights yield, not to himself, but me. And by\nHeaven! because Sir Lancelot took my armour and left me his, I rode in\npeace, and no man would have aught to do with me.\" Then came the knights\nwho fought with Sir Lancelot at the long bridge and yielded themselves\nalso to Sir Key, but he said nay, he had not fought with them. \"It is Sir\nLancelot,\" said he, \"that overcame ye.\" Next came Sir Meliot de Logres,\nand told King Arthur how Sir Lancelot had saved him from death.\n\nAnd so all Sir Lancelot's deeds and great adventures were made known; how\nthe four sorceress-queens had him in prison; how he was delivered by the\ndaughter of King Bagdemagus, and what deeds of arms he did at the\ntournament between the King of North Wales and King Bagdemagus. And so, at\nthat festival, Sir Lancelot had the greatest name of any knight in all the\nworld, and by high and low was he the most honoured of all men.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n_Adventures of Sir Beaumains or Sir Gareth_\n\n\nAgain King Arthur held the Feast of Pentecost, with all the Table Round,\nand after his custom sat in the banquet hall, before beginning meat,\nwaiting for some adventure. Then came there to the king a squire and said,\n\"Lord, now may ye go to meat, for here a damsel cometh with some strange\nadventure.\" So the king was glad, and sat down to meat.\n\nAnon the damsel came in and saluted him, praying him for succour. \"What\nwilt thou?\" said the king. \"Lord,\" answered she, \"my mistress is a lady of\ngreat renown, but is at this time besieged by a tyrant, who will not\nsuffer her to go out of her castle; and because here in thy court the\nknights are called the noblest in the world, I come to pray thee for thy\nsuccour. \"Where dwelleth your lady?\" answered the king. \"What is her name,\nand who is he that hath besieged her?\" \"For her name,\" replied the damsel,\n\"as yet I may not tell it; but she is a lady of worship and great lands.\nThe tyrant that besiegeth her and wasteth her lands is called the Red\nKnight of the Redlands.\" \"I know him not,\" said Arthur. \"But I know him,\nlord,\" said Sir Gawain, \"and he is one of the most perilous knights in all\nthe world. Men say he hath the strength of seven; and from him I myself\nonce hardly escaped with life.\" \"Fair damsel,\" said the king, \"there be\nhere many knights that would gladly do their uttermost to rescue your\nlady, but unless ye tell me her name, and where she dwelleth, none of my\nknights shall go with you by my leave.\"\n\nNow, there was a stripling at the court called Beaumains, who served in\nthe king's kitchen, a fair youth and of great stature. Twelve months\nbefore this time he had come to the king as he sat at meat, at\nWhitsuntide, and prayed three gifts of him. And being asked what gifts, he\nanswered, \"As for the first gift I will ask it now, but the other two\ngifts I will ask on this day twelve months, wheresoever ye hold your high\nfeast.\" Then said King Arthur, \"What is thy first request?\" \"This, lord,\"\nsaid he, \"that thou wilt give me meat and drink enough for twelve months\nfrom this time, and then will I ask my other two gifts.\" And the king\nseeing that he was a goodly youth, and deeming that he was come of\nhonourable blood, had granted his desire, and given him into the charge of\nSir Key, the steward. But Sir Key scorned and mocked the youth, calling\nhim Beaumains, because his hands were large and fair, and putting him into\nthe kitchen, where he had served for twelve months as a scullion, and, in\nspite of all his churlish treatment, had faithfully obeyed Sir Key. But\nSir Lancelot and Sir Gawain were angered when they saw Sir Key so churlish\nto a youth that had so worshipful a bearing, and ofttimes had they given\nhim gold and clothing.\n\nAnd now at this time came young Beaumains to the king, while the damsel\nwas there, and said, \"Lord, now I thank thee well and heartily that I have\nbeen twelve months kept in thy kitchen, and have had full sustenance. Now\nwill I ask my two remaining gifts.\" \"Ask,\" said King Arthur, \"on my good\nfaith.\" \"These, lord,\" said he, \"shall be my two gifts--the one, that thou\nwilt grant me this adventure of the damsel, for to me of right it\nbelongeth; and the other, that thou wilt bid Sir Lancelot make me a\nknight, for of him only will I have that honour; and I pray that he may\nride after me and make me a knight when I require him.\" \"Be it as thou\nwilt,\" replied the king. But thereupon the damsel was full wroth, and\nsaid, \"Shall I have a kitchen page for this adventure?\" and so she took\nhorse and departed.\n\nThen came one to Beaumains, and told him that a dwarf with a horse and\narmour were waiting for him. And all men marvelled whence these things\ncame. But when he was on horseback and armed, scarce any one at the court\nwas a goodlier man than he. And coming into the hall, he took his leave of\nthe king and Sir Gawain, and prayed Sir Lancelot to follow him. So he rode\nafter the damsel, and many of the court went out to see him, so richly\narrayed and horsed; yet he had neither shield nor spear. Then Sir Key\ncried, \"I also will ride after the kitchen boy, and see whether he will\nobey me now.\" And taking his horse, he rode after him, and said, \"Know ye\nnot me, Beaumains?\" \"Yea,\" said he, \"I know thee for an ungentle knight,\ntherefore beware of me.\" Then Sir Key put his spear in rest and ran at\nhim, but Beaumains rushed upon him with his sword in his hand, and\ntherewith, putting aside the spear, struck Sir Key so sorely in the side,\nthat he fell down, as if dead. Then he alighted, and took his shield and\nspear, and bade his dwarf ride upon Sir Key's horse.\n\nBy this time, Sir Lancelot had come up, and Beaumains offering to tilt\nwith him, they both made ready. And their horses came together so fiercely\nthat both fell to the earth, full sorely bruised. Then they arose, and\nBeaumains, putting up his shield before him, offered to fight Sir\nLancelot, on foot. So they rushed upon each other, striking, and\nthrusting, and parrying, for the space of an hour. And Lancelot marvelled\nat the strength of Beaumains, for he fought more like a giant than a man,\nand his fighting was passing fierce and terrible. So, at the last, he\nsaid, \"Fight not so sorely, Beaumains; our quarrel is not such that we may\nnot now cease.\" \"True,\" answered Beaumains; \"yet it doth me good to feel\nthy might, though I have not yet proved my uttermost.\" \"By my faith,\" said\nLancelot, \"I had as much as I could do to save myself from you unshamed,\ntherefore be in no doubt of any earthly knight.\" \"May I, then, stand as a\nproved knight?\" said Beaumains. \"For that will I be thy warrant,\" answered\nLancelot. \"Then, I pray thee,\" said he, \"give me the order of knighthood.\"\n\"First, then, must thou tell me of thy name and kindred,\" said Sir\nLancelot. \"If thou wilt tell them to no other, I will tell thee,\" answered\nhe. \"My name is Gareth of Orkney, and I am own brother to Sir Gawain.\"\n\"Ah!\" said Sir Lancelot, \"at that am I full glad; for, truly, I deemed\nthee to be of gentle blood.\" So then he knighted Beaumains, and, after\nthat, they parted company, and Sir Lancelot, returning to the court, took\nup Sir Key on his shield. And hardly did Sir Key escape with his life,\nfrom the wound Beaumains had given him; but all men blamed him for his\nungentle treatment of so brave a knight.\n\nThen Sir Beaumains rode forward, and soon overtook the damsel; but she\nsaid to him, in scorn, \"Return again, base kitchen page! What art thou,\nbut a washer-up of dishes!\" \"Damsel,\" said he, \"say to me what thou wilt,\nI will not leave thee; for I have undertaken to King Arthur to relieve thy\nadventure, and I will finish it to the end, or die.\" \"Thou finish my\nadventure!\" said she--\"anon, thou shalt meet one, whose face thou wilt not\neven dare to look at.\" \"I shall attempt it,\" answered he. So, as they rode\nthus, into a wood, there met them a man, fleeing, as for his life.\n\"Whither fleest thou?\" said Sir Beaumains. \"O lord!\" he answered, \"help\nme; for, in a valley hard by, there are six thieves, who have taken my\nlord, and bound him, and I fear will slay him.\" \"Bring me thither,\" said\nSir Beaumains. So they rode to the place, and Sir Beaumains rushed after\nthe thieves, and smote one, at the first stroke, so that he died; and\nthen, with two other blows, slew a second and third. Then fled the other\nthree, and Sir Beaumains rode after them, and overtook and slew them all.\nThen he returned and unbound the knight. And the knight thanked him, and\nprayed him to ride to his castle, where he would reward him. \"Sir,\"\nanswered Sir Beaumains, \"I will have no reward of thee, for but this day\nwas I made knight by the most noble Sir Lancelot; and besides, I must go\nwith this damsel.\" Then the knight begged the damsel to rest that night at\nhis castle. So they all rode thither, and ever the damsel scoffed at Sir\nBeaumains as a kitchen boy, and laughed at him before the knight their\nhost, so that he set his meat before him at a lower table, as though he\nwere not of their company.\n\nAnd on the morrow, the damsel and Sir Beaumains took their leave of the\nknight, and thanking him departed. Then they rode on their way till they\ncame to a great forest, through which flowed a river, and there was but\none passage over it, whereat stood two knights armed to hinder the way.\n\"Wilt thou match those two knights,\" said the damsel to Sir Beaumains, \"or\nreturn again?\" \"I would not return,\" said he, \"though they were six.\"\nTherewith he galloped into the water, and swam his horse into the middle\nof the stream. And there, in the river, one of the knights met him, and\nthey brake their spears together, and then drew their swords, and smote\nfiercely at each other. And at the last, Sir Beaumains struck the other\nmightily upon the helm, so that he fell down stunned into the water, and\nwas drowned. Then Sir Beaumains spurred his horse on to the land, where\ninstantly the other knight fell on him. And they also brake their spears\nupon each other, and then drew their swords, and fought savagely and long\ntogether. And after many blows, Sir Beaumains clove through the knight's\nskull down to the shoulders. Then rode Sir Beaumains to the damsel, but\never she still scoffed at him, and said, \"Alas! that a kitchen page should\nchance to slay two such brave knights! Thou deemest now that thou hast\ndone a mighty deed, but it is not so; for the first knight's horse\nstumbled, and thus was he drowned--not by thy strength; and as for the\nsecond knight, thou wentest by chance behind him, and didst kill him\nshamefully.\" \"Damsel,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"say what ye list, I care not\nso I may win your lady; and wouldst thou give me but fair language, all\nmy care were past; for whatsoever knights I meet, I fear them not.\" \"Thou\nshalt see knights that shall abate thy boast, base kitchen knave,\" replied\nshe; \"yet say I this for thine advantage, for if thou followest me thou\nwilt be surely slain, since I see all thou doest is but by chance, and not\nby thy own prowess.\" \"Well damsel,\" said he, \"say what ye will, wherever\nye go I will follow.\"\n\nSo they rode on until the eventide, and still the damsel evermore kept\nchiding Sir Beaumains. Then came they to a black space of land, whereon\nwas a black hawthorn tree, and on the tree there hung a black banner, and\non the other side was a black shield and spear, and by them a great black\nhorse, covered with silk; and hard by sat a knight armed in black armour,\nwhose name was the Knight of the Blacklands. When the damsel saw him, she\ncried out to Beaumains, \"Flee down the valley, for thy horse is not\nsaddled!\" \"Wilt thou for ever deem me coward?\" answered he. With that came\nthe Black Knight to the damsel, and said, \"Fair damsel, hast thou brought\nthis knight from Arthur's court to be thy champion?\" \"Not so, fair\nknight,\" said she; \"he is but a kitchen knave.\" \"Then wherefore cometh he\nin such array?\" said he; \"it is a shame that he should bear thee company.\"\n\"I cannot be delivered from him,\" answered she: \"for in spite of me he\nrideth with me; and would to Heaven you would put him from me, or now slay\nhim, for he hath slain two knights at the river passage yonder, and done\nmany marvellous deeds through pure mischance.\" \"I marvel,\" said the Black\nKnight, \"that any man of worship will fight with him.\" \"They know him\nnot,\" said the damsel, \"and think, because he rideth with me, that he is\nwell born.\" \"Truly, he hath a goodly person, and is likely to be a strong\nman,\" replied the knight; \"but since he is no man of worship, he shall\nleave his horse and armour with me, for it were a shame for me to do him\nmore harm.\"\n\nWhen Sir Beaumains heard him speak thus, he said, \"Horse or armour gettest\nthou none of me, Sir knight, save thou winnest them with thy hands;\ntherefore defend thyself, and let me see what thou canst do.\" \"How sayest\nthou?\" answered the Black Knight. \"Now quit this lady also, for it\nbeseemeth not a kitchen knave like thee to ride with such a lady.\" \"I am\nof higher lineage than thou,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"and will straightway\nprove it on thy body.\" Then furiously they drove their horses at each\nother, and came together as it had been thunder. But the Black Knight's\nspear brake short, and Sir Beaumains thrust him through the side, and his\nspear breaking at the head, left its point sticking fast in the Black\nKnight's body. Yet did the Black Knight draw his sword, and smite at Sir\nBeaumains with many fierce and bitter blows; but after they had fought an\nhour and more, he fell down from his horse in a swoon, and forthwith died.\nThen Sir Beaumains lighted down and armed himself in the Black Knight's\narmour, and rode on after the damsel. But notwithstanding all his valour,\nstill she scoffed at him, and said, \"Away! for thou savourest ever of the\nkitchen. Alas! that such a knave should by mishap destroy so good a\nknight; yet once again I counsel thee to flee, for hard by is a knight who\nshall repay thee!\" \"It may chance that I am beaten or slain,\" answered Sir\nBeaumains, \"but I warn thee, fair damsel, that I will not flee away, nor\nleave thy company or my quest, for all that ye can say.\"\n\nAnon, as they rode, they saw a knight come swiftly towards them, dressed\nall in green, who, calling to the damsel said, \"Is that my brother, the\nBlack Knight, that ye have brought with you?\" \"Nay, and alas!\" said she,\n\"this kitchen knave hath slain thy brother through mischance.\" \"Alas!\"\nsaid the Green Knight, \"that such a noble knight as he was should be slain\nby a knave's hand. Traitor!\" cried he to Sir Beaumains, \"thou shalt die\nfor this! Sir Pereard was my brother, and a full noble knight.\" \"I defy\nthee,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"for I slew him knightly and not shamefully.\"\nThen the Green Knight rode to a thorn whereon hung a green horn, and, when\nhe blew three notes, there came three damsels forth, who quickly armed\nhim, and brought him a great horse and a green shield and spear. Then did\nthey run at one another with their fullest might, and break their spears\nasunder; and, drawing their swords, they closed in fight, and sorely smote\nand wounded each other with many grievous blows.\n\nAt last, Sir Beaumains' horse jostled against the Green Knight's horse,\nand overthrew him. Then both alighted, and, hurtling together like mad\nlions, fought a great while on foot. But the damsel cheered the Green\nKnight, and said, \"My lord, why wilt thou let a kitchen knave so long\nstand up against thee?\" Hearing these words, he was ashamed, and gave Sir\nBeaumains such a mighty stroke as clave his shield asunder. When Sir\nBeaumains heard the damsel's words, and felt that blow, he waxed passing\nwroth, and gave the Green Knight such a buffet on the helm that he fell on\nhis knees, and with another blow Sir Beaumains threw him on the ground.\nThen the Green Knight yielded, and prayed him to spare his life. \"All thy\nprayers are vain,\" said he, \"unless this damsel who came with me pray for\nthee.\" \"That will I never do, base kitchen knave,\" said she. \"Then shall\nhe die,\" said Beaumains. \"Alas! fair lady,\" said the Green Knight, \"suffer\nme not to die for a word! O, Sir knight,\" cried he to Beaumains, \"give me\nmy life, and I will ever do thee homage; and thirty knights, who owe me\nservice, shall give allegiance to thee.\" \"All availeth not,\" answered Sir\nBeaumains, \"unless the damsel ask me for thy life;\" and thereupon he made\nas though he would have slain him. Then cried the damsel, \"Slay him not;\nfor if thou do thou shalt repent it.\" \"Damsel,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"at\nthy command, he shall obtain his life. Arise, Sir knight of the green\narmour, I release thee!\" Then the Green Knight knelt at his feet, and did\nhim homage with his words. \"Lodge with me this night,\" said he, \"and\nto-morrow will I guide ye through the forest.\" So, taking their horses,\nthey rode to his castle, which was hard by.\n\nYet still did the damsel rebuke and scoff at Sir Beaumains, and would not\nsuffer him to sit at her table. \"I marvel,\" said the Green Knight to her,\n\"that ye thus chide so noble a knight, for truly I know none to match him;\nand be sure, that whatsoever he appeareth now, he will prove, at the end,\nof noble blood and royal lineage.\" But of all this would the damsel take\nno heed, and ceased not to mock at Sir Beaumains. On the morrow, they\narose and heard mass; and when they had broken their fast, took their\nhorses and rode on their way, the Green Knight conveying them through the\nforest. Then, when he had led them for a while, he said to Sir Beaumains,\n\"My lord, my thirty knights and I shall always be at thy command\nwhensoever thou shalt send for us.\" \"It is well said,\" replied he; \"and\nwhen I call upon you, you shall yield yourself and all your knights unto\nKing Arthur.\" \"That will we gladly do,\" said the Green Knight, and so\ndeparted.\n\nAnd the damsel rode on before Sir Beaumains, and said to him, \"Why dost\nthou follow me, thou kitchen boy? I counsel thee to throw aside thy spear\nand shield, and flee betimes, for wert thou as mighty as Sir Lancelot or\nSir Tristram, thou shouldest not pass a valley near this place, called the\nPass Perilous.\" \"Damsel,\" answered he, \"let him that feareth flee; as for\nme, it were indeed a shameful thing to turn after so long a journey.\" As\nhe spake, they came upon a tower as white as snow, with mighty\nbattlements, and double moats round it, and over the tower-gate hung fifty\nshields of divers colours. Before the tower walls, they saw a fair meadow,\nwherein were many knights and squires in pavilions, for on the morrow\nthere was a tournament at that castle.\n\nThen the lord of the castle, seeing a knight armed at all points, with a\ndamsel and a page, riding towards the tower, came forth to meet them; and\nhis horse and harness, with his shield and spear, were all of a red\ncolour. When he came near Sir Beaumains, and saw his armour all of black,\nhe thought him his own brother, the Black Knight, and so cried aloud,\n\"Brother! what do ye here, within these borders?\" \"Nay!\" said the damsel,\n\"it is not thy brother, but a kitchen knave of Arthur's court, who hath\nslain thy brother, and overcome thy other brother also, the Green Knight.\"\n\"Now do I defy thee!\" cried the Red Knight to Sir Beaumains, and put his\nspear in rest and spurred his horse. Then both knights turned back a\nlittle space, and ran together with all their might, till their horses\nfell to the earth. Then, with their swords, they fought fiercely for the\nspace of three hours. And at last, Sir Beaumains overcame his foe, and\nsmote him to the ground. Then the Red Knight prayed his mercy, and said,\n\"Slay me not, noble knight, and I will yield to thee with sixty knights\nthat do my bidding.\" \"All avails not,\" answered Sir Beaumains, \"save this\ndamsel pray me to release thee.\" Then did he lift his sword to slay him;\nbut the damsel cried aloud, \"Slay him not, Beaumains, for he is a noble\nknight.\" Then Sir Beaumains bade him rise up and thank the damsel, which\nstraightway he did, and afterwards invited them to his castle, and made\nthem goodly cheer.\n\nBut notwithstanding all Sir Beaumains' mighty deeds, the damsel ceased not\nto revile and chide him, at which the Red Knight marvelled much; and\ncaused his sixty knights to watch Sir Beaumains, that no villainy might\nhappen to him. And on the morrow, they heard mass and broke their fast,\nand the Red Knight came before Sir Beaumains, with his sixty knights, and\nproffered him homage and fealty. \"I thank thee,\" answered he; \"and when I\ncall upon thee thou shalt come before my lord King Arthur at his court,\nand yield yourselves to him.\" \"That will we surely do,\" said the Red\nKnight. So Sir Beaumains and the damsel departed.\n\nAnd as she constantly reviled him and tormented him, he said to her,\n\"Damsel, ye are discourteous thus always to rebuke me, for I have done you\nservice; and for all your threats of knights that shall destroy me, all\nthey who come lie in the dust before me. Now, therefore, I pray you\nrebuke me no more till you see me beaten or a recreant, and then bid me go\nfrom you.\" \"There shall soon meet thee a knight who shall repay thee all\nthy deeds, thou boaster,\" answered she, \"for, save King Arthur, he is the\nman of most worship in the world.\" \"It will be the greater honour to\nencounter him,\" said Sir Beaumains.\n\nSoon after, they saw before them a city passing fair, and between them and\nthe city was a meadow newly mown, wherein were many goodly tents. \"Seest\nthou yonder blue pavilion?\" said the damsel to Sir Beaumains; \"it is Sir\nPerseant's, the lord of that great city, whose custom is, in all fair\nweather, to lie in this meadow, and joust with his knights.\"\n\nAnd as she spake, Sir Perseant, who had espied them coming, sent a\nmessenger to meet Sir Beaumains, and to ask him if he came in war or\npeace. \"Say to thy lord,\" he answered, \"that I care not whether of the\ntwain it be.\" So when the messenger gave this reply, Sir Perseant came out\nto fight with Sir Beaumains. And making ready, they rode their steeds\nagainst each other; and when their spears were shivered asunder, they\nfought with their swords. And for more than two hours did they hack and\nhew at each other, till their shields and hauberks were all dinted with\nmany blows, and they themselves were sorely wounded. And at the last, Sir\nBeaumains smote Sir Perseant on the helm, so that he fell grovelling on\nthe earth. And when he unlaced his helm to slay him, the damsel prayed for\nhis life. \"That will I grant gladly,\" answered Sir Beaumains, \"for it were\npity such a noble knight should die.\" \"Grammercy!\" said Sir Perseant,\n\"for now I certainly know that it was thou who slewest my brother, the\nBlack Knight, Sir Pereard; and overcame my brothers, the Green Knight, Sir\nPertolope, and the Red Knight, Sir Perimones; and since thou hast overcome\nme also, I will do thee homage and fealty, and place at thy command one\nhundred knights to do thy bidding.\"\n\nBut when the damsel saw Sir Perseant overthrown, she marvelled greatly at\nthe might of Sir Beaumains, and said, \"What manner of man may ye be, for\nnow am I sure that ye be come of noble blood? And truly, never did woman\nrevile knight as I have done thee, and yet ye have ever courteously borne\nwith me, which surely never had been were ye not of gentle blood and\nlineage.\"\n\n\"Lady,\" replied Sir Beaumains, \"a knight is little worth who may not bear\nwith a damsel; and so whatsoever ye said to me I took no heed, save only\nthat at times when your scorn angered me, it made me all the stronger\nagainst those with whom I fought, and thus have ye furthered me in my\nbattles. But whether I be born of gentle blood or no, I have done you\ngentle service, and peradventure will do better still, ere I depart from\nyou.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"Lady,\" replied Sir Beaumains, \"a knight is little worth\nwho may not bear with a damsel.\"]\n\n\"Alas!\" said she, weeping at his courtesy, \"forgive me, fair Sir\nBeaumains, all that I have missaid and misdone against you.\" \"With all my\nheart,\" said he; \"and since you now speak fairly to me, I am passing glad\nof heart, and methinks I have the strength to overcome whatever knights I\nshall henceforth encounter.\"\n\nThen Sir Perseant prayed them to come to his pavilion, and set before them\nwines and spices, and made them great cheer. So they rested that night;\nand on the morrow, the damsel and Sir Beaumains rose, and heard mass. And\nwhen they had broken their fast, they took their leave of Sir Perseant.\n\"Fair damsel,\" said he \"whither lead ye this knight?\" \"Sir,\" answered she,\n\"to the Castle Dangerous, where my sister is besieged by the Knight of the\nRedlands.\" \"I know him well,\" said Sir Perseant, \"for the most perilous\nknight alive--a man without mercy, and with the strength of seven men. God\nsave thee, Sir Beaumains, from him! and enable thee to overcome him, for\nthe Lady Lyones, whom he besiegeth, is as fair a lady as there liveth in\nthis world.\" \"Thou sayest truth, sir,\" said the damsel; \"for I am her\nsister; and men call me Linet, or the Wild Maiden.\" \"Now, I would have\nthee know,\" said Sir Perseant to Sir Beaumains, \"that the Knight of the\nRedlands hath kept that siege more than two years, and prolongeth the time\nhoping that Sir Lancelot, or Sir Tristram, or Sir Lamoracke, may come and\nbattle with him; for these three knights divide between them all\nknighthood; and thou if thou mayest match the Knight of the Redlands,\nshall well be called the fourth knight of the world.\" \"Sir,\" said Sir\nBeaumains, \"I would fain have that good fame; and truly, I am come of\ngreat and honourable lineage. And so that you and this fair damsel will\nconceal it, I will tell ye my descent.\" And when they swore to keep it\nsecret, he told them, \"My name is Sir Gareth of Orkney, my father was King\nLot, and my mother the Lady Belisent, King Arthur's sister. Sir Gawain,\nSir Agravain, and Sir Gaheris, are my brethren, and I am the youngest of\nthem all. But, as yet King Arthur and the court know me not, who I am.\"\nWhen he had thus told them, they both wondered greatly.\n\nAnd the damsel Linet sent the dwarf forward to her sister, to tell her of\ntheir coming. Then did Dame Lyones inquire what manner of man the knight\nwas who was coming to her rescue. And the dwarf told her of all Sir\nBeaumains' deeds by the way: how he had overthrown Sir Key, and left him\nfor dead; how he had battled with Sir Lancelot, and was knighted of him;\nhow he had fought with, and slain, the thieves; how he had overcome the\ntwo knights who kept the river passage; how he had fought with, and slain,\nthe Black Knight; and how he had overcome the Green Knight, the Red\nKnight, and last of all, the Blue Knight, Sir Perseant. Then was Dame\nLyones passing glad, and sent the dwarf back to Sir Beaumains with great\ngifts, thanking him for his courtesy, in taking such a labour on him for\nher sake, and praying him to be of good heart and courage. And as the\ndwarf returned, he met the Knight of the Redlands, who asked him whence he\ncame. \"I came here with the sister of my lady of the castle,\" said the\ndwarf, \"who hath been now to King Arthur's court and brought a knight with\nher to take her battle on him.\" \"Then is her travail lost,\" replied the\nknight; \"for, though she had brought Sir Lancelot, Sir Tristram, Sir\nLamoracke, or Sir Gawain, I count myself their equal, and who besides\nshall be so called?\" Then the dwarf told the knight what deeds Sir\nBeaumains had done; but he answered, \"I care not for him, whosoever he be,\nfor I shall shortly overcome him, and give him shameful death, as to so\nmany others I have done.\"\n\nThen the damsel Linet and Sir Beaumains left Sir Perseant, and rode on\nthrough a forest to a large plain, where they saw many pavilions, and hard\nby, a castle passing fair.\n\nBut as they came near Sir Beaumains saw upon the branches of some trees\nwhich grew there, the dead bodies of forty knights hanging, with rich\narmour on them, their shields and swords about their necks, and golden\nspurs upon their heels. \"What meaneth this?\" said he, amazed. \"Lose not\nthy courage, fair sir,\" replied the damsel, \"at this shameful sight, for\nall these knights came hither to rescue my sister; and when the Knight of\nthe Redlands had overcome them, he put them to this piteous death, without\nmercy; and in such wise will he treat thee also unless thou bearest thee\nmore valiantly than they.\" \"Truly he useth shameful customs,\" said Sir\nBeaumains; \"and it is a marvel that he hath endured so long.\"\n\nSo they rode onward to the castle walls, and found them double-moated, and\nheard the sea waves dashing on one side the walls. Then said the damsel,\n\"See you that ivory horn hanging upon the sycamore-tree? The Knight of the\nRedlands hath hung it there, that any knight may blow thereon, and then\nwill he himself come out and fight with him. But I pray thee sound it not\ntill high noontide, for now it is but daybreak, and till noon his strength\nincreases to the might of seven men.\" \"Let that be as it may, fair\ndamsel,\" answered he, \"for were he stronger knight than ever lived, I\nwould not fail him. Either will I defeat him at his mightiest, or die\nknightly in the field.\" With that he spurred his horse unto the sycamore,\nand blew the ivory horn so eagerly, that all the castle rang its echoes.\nInstantly, all the knights who were in the pavilions ran forth, and those\nwithin the castle looked out from the windows, or above the walls. And the\nKnight of the Redlands, arming himself quickly in blood-red armour, with\nspear, and shield, and horse's trappings of like colour, rode forth into a\nlittle valley by the castle walls, so that all in the castle, and at the\nsiege, might see the battle.\n\n\"Be of good cheer,\" said the damsel Linet to Sir Beaumains, \"for thy\ndeadly enemy now cometh; and at yonder window is my lady and sister, Dame\nLyones.\" \"In good sooth,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"she is the fairest lady I\nhave ever seen, and I would wish no better quarrel than to fight for her.\"\nWith that, he looked up to the window, and saw the Lady Lyones, who waved\nher handkerchief to her sister and to him to cheer them. Then called the\nKnight of the Redlands to Sir Beaumains, \"Leave now thy gazing, Sir\nknight, and turn to me, for I warn thee that lady is mine.\" \"She loveth\nnone of thy fellowship,\" he answered; \"but know this, that I love her, and\nwill rescue her from thee, or die.\" \"Say ye so!\" said the Red Knight.\n\"Take ye no warning from those knights that hang on yonder trees?\" \"For\nshame that thou so boastest!\" said Sir Beaumains. \"Be sure that sight hath\nraised a hatred for thee that will not lightly be put out, and given me\nnot fear, but rage.\" \"Sir knight, defend thyself,\" said the Knight of the\nRedlands, \"for we will talk no longer.\"\n\nThen did they put their spears in rest, and came together at the fullest\nspeed of their horses, and smote each other in the midst of their shields,\nso that their horses' harness sundered by the shock, and they fell to the\nground. And both lay there so long time, stunned, that many deemed their\nnecks were broken. And all men said the strange knight was a strong man,\nand a noble jouster, for none had ever yet so matched the Knight of the\nRedlands. Then, in a while, they rose, and putting up their shields before\nthem, drew their swords, and fought with fury, running at each other like\nwild beasts--now striking such buffets that both reeled backwards, now\nhewing at each other till they shore the harness off in pieces, and left\ntheir bodies naked and unarmed. And thus they fought till noon was past,\nwhen, for a time they rested to get breath, so sorely staggering and\nbleeding, that many who beheld them wept for pity. Then they renewed the\nbattle--sometimes rushing so furiously together, that both fell to the\nground, and anon changing swords in their confusion. Thus they endured,\nand lashed, and struggled, until eventide, and none who saw knew which was\nthe likeliest to win; for though the Knight of the Redlands was a wily and\nsubtle warrior, his subtlety made Sir Beaumains wilier and wiser too. So\nonce again they rested for a little space, and took their helms off to\nfind breath.\n\nBut when Sir Beaumains' helm was off, he looked up to Dame Lyones, where\nshe leaned, gazing and weeping, from her window. And when he saw the\nsweetness of her smiling, all his heart was light and joyful, and starting\nup, he bade the Knight of the Redlands make ready. Then did they lace\ntheir helms and fight together yet afresh, as though they had never fought\nbefore. And at the last, the Knight of the Redlands with a sudden stroke\nsmote Sir Beaumains on the hand, so that his sword fell from it, and with\na second stroke upon the helm he drove him to the earth. Then cried aloud\nthe damsel Linet, \"Alas! Sir Beaumains, see how my sister weepeth to\nbehold thee fallen!\" And when Sir Beaumains heard her words, he sprang\nupon his feet with strength, and leaping to his sword, he caught it; and\nwith many heavy blows pressed so sorely on the Knight of the Redlands,\nthat in the end he smote his sword from out his hand, and, with a mighty\nblow upon the head, hurled him upon the ground.\n\nThen Sir Beaumains unlaced his helm, and would have straightway slain him,\nbut the Knight of the Redlands yielded, and prayed for mercy. \"I may not\nspare thee,\" answered he, \"because of the shameful death which thou hast\ngiven to so many noble knights.\" \"Yet hold thy hand, Sir knight,\" said he,\n\"and hear the cause. I loved once a fair damsel, whose brother was slain,\nas she told me, by a knight of Arthur's court, either Sir Lancelot, or Sir\nGawain; and she prayed me, as I truly loved her, and by the faith of my\nknighthood, to labour daily in deeds of arms, till I should meet with him;\nand to put all knights of the Round Table whom I should overcome to a\nvillainous death. And this I swore to her.\" Then prayed the earls, and\nknights, and barons, who stood round Sir Beaumains, to spare the Red\nKnight's life. \"Truly,\" replied he, \"I am loth to slay him,\nnotwithstanding he hath done such shameful deeds. And inasmuch as what he\ndid was done to please his lady and to gain her love, I blame him less,\nand for your sakes I will release him. But on this agreement only shall he\nhold his life--that straightway he depart into the castle, and yield him\nto the lady there, and make her such amends as she shall ask, for all the\ntrespass he hath done upon her lands; and afterwards, that he shall go\nunto King Arthur's court, and ask the pardon of Sir Lancelot and Sir\nGawain for all the evil he hath done against them.\" \"All this, Sir knight,\nI swear to do,\" said the Knight of the Redlands; and therewith he did him\nhomage and fealty.\n\nThen came the damsel Linet to Sir Beaumains and the Knight of the\nRedlands, and disarmed them, and staunched their wounds. And when the\nKnight of the Redlands had made amends for all his trespasses, he departed\nfor the court.\n\nThen Sir Beaumains, being healed of his wounds, armed himself, and took\nhis horse and spear and rode straight to the castle of Dame Lyones, for\ngreatly he desired to see her. But when he came to the gate they closed it\nfast, and pulled the drawbridge up. And as he marvelled thereat, he saw\nthe Lady Lyones standing at a window, who said, \"Go thy way as yet, Sir\nBeaumains, for thou shalt not wholly have my love until thou be among the\nworthiest knights of all the world. Go, therefore, and labour yet in arms\nfor twelve months more, and then return to me.\" \"Alas! fair lady,\" said\nSir Beaumains, \"I have scarce deserved this of thee, for sure I am that I\nhave bought thy love with all the best blood in my body.\" \"Be not\naggrieved, fair knight,\" said she, \"for none of thy service is forgot or\nlost. Twelve months will soon be passed in noble deeds; and trust that to\nmy death I shall love thee and not another.\" With that she turned and left\nthe window.\n\nSo Sir Beaumains rode away from the castle very sorrowrul at heart, and\nrode he knew not whither, and lay that night in a poor man's cottage. On\nthe morrow he went forward, and came at noon to a broad lake, and thereby\nhe alighted, being very sad and weary, and rested his head upon his\nshield, and told his dwarf to keep watch while he slept.\n\nNow, as soon as he had departed, the Lady Lyones repented, and greatly\nlonged to see him back, and asked her sister many times of what lineage he\nwas; but the damsel would not tell her, being bound by her oath to Sir\nBeaumains, and said his dwarf best knew, So she called Sir Gringamors,\nher brother, who dwelt with her, and prayed him to ride after Sir\nBeaumains till he found him sleeping, and then to take his dwarf away and\nbring him back to her. Anon Sir Gringamors departed, and rode till he came\nto Sir Beaumains, and found him as he lay sleeping by the water-side. Then\nstepping stealthily behind the dwarf he caught him in his arms and rode\noff in haste. And though the dwarf cried loudly to his lord for help, and\nwoke Sir Beaumains, yet, though he rode full quickly after him, he could\nnot overtake Sir Gringamors.\n\nWhen Dame Lyones saw her brother come back, she was passing glad of heart,\nand forthwith asked the dwarf his master's lineage. \"He is a king's son,\"\nsaid the dwarf, \"and his mother is King Arthur's sister. His name is Sir\nGareth of Orkney, and he is brother to the good knight, Sir Gawain. But I\npray you suffer me to go back to my lord, for truly he will never leave\nthis country till he have me again.\" But when the Lady Lyones knew her\ndeliverer was come of such a kingly stock, she longed more than ever to\nsee him again.\n\nNow as Sir Beaumains rode in vain to rescue his dwarf, he came to a fair\ngreen road and met a poor man of the country, and asked him had he seen a\nknight on a black horse, riding with a dwarf of a sad countenance behind\nhim. \"Yea,\" said the man, \"I met with such a knight an hour agone, and his\nname is Sir Gringamors. He liveth at a castle two miles from hence; but he\nis a perilous knight, and I counsel ye not to follow him save ye bear him\ngoodwill.\" Then Sir Beaumains followed the path which the poor man showed\nhim, and came to the castle. And riding to the gate in great anger, he\ndrew his sword, and cried aloud, \"Sir Gringamors, thou traitor! deliver\nme my dwarf again, or by my knighthood it shall be ill for thee!\" Then Sir\nGringamors looked out of a window and said, \"Sir Gareth of Orkney, leave\nthy boasting words, for thou wilt not get thy dwarf again.\" But the Lady\nLyones said to her brother, \"Nay brother, but I will that he have his\ndwarf, for he hath done much for me, and delivered me from the Knight of\nthe Redlands, and well do I love him above all other knights.\" So Sir\nGringamors went down to Sir Gareth and cried him mercy, and prayed him to\nalight and take good cheer.\n\nThen he alighted, and his dwarf ran to him. And when he was in the hall\ncame the Lady Lyones dressed royally like a princess. And Sir Gareth was\nright glad of heart when he saw her. Then she told him how she had made\nher brother take away his dwarf and bring him back to her. And then she\npromised him her love, and faithfully to cleave to him and none other all\nthe days of her life. And so they plighted their troth to each other. Then\nSir Gringamors prayed him to sojourn at the castle, which willingly he\ndid. \"For,\" said he, \"I have promised to quit the court for twelve months,\nthough sure I am that in the meanwhile I shall be sought and found by my\nlord King Arthur and many others.\" So he sojourned long at the castle.\n\nAnon the knights, Sir Perseant, Sir Perimones, and Sir Pertolope, whom Sir\nGareth had overthrown, went to King Arthur's court with all the knights\nwho did them service, and told the king they had been conquered by a\nknight of his named Beaumains. And as they yet were talking, it was told\nthe king there came another great lord with five hundred knights, who,\nentering in, did homage, and declared himself to be the Knight of the\nRedlands. \"But my true name,\" said he, \"is Ironside, and I am hither sent\nby one Sir Beaumains, who conquered me, and charged me to yield unto your\ngrace.\" \"Thou art welcome,\" said King Arthur, \"for thou hast been long a\nfoe to me and mine, and truly I am much beholden to the knight who sent\nthee. And now, Sir Ironside, if thou wilt amend thy life and hold of me, I\nwill entreat thee as a friend, and make thee Knight of the Round Table;\nbut thou mayst no more be a murderer of noble knights.\" Then the Knight of\nthe Redlands knelt to the king, and told him of his promise to Sir\nBeaumains to use never more such shameful customs; and how he had so done\nbut at the prayer of a lady whom he loved. Then knelt he to Sir Lancelot\nand Sir Gawain, and prayed their pardon for the hatred he had borne them.\n\nBut the king and all the court marvelled greatly who Sir Beaumains was.\n\"For,\" said the king, \"he is a full noble knight.\" Then said Sir Lancelot,\n\"Truly he is come of honourable blood, else had I not given him the order\nof knighthood; but he charged me that I should conceal his secret.\"\n\nNow as they talked thus it was told King Arthur that his sister, the Queen\nof Orkney, was come to the court with a great retinue of knights and\nladies. Then was there great rejoicing, and the king rose and saluted his\nsister. And her sons, Sir Gawain, Sir Agravain, and Sir Gaheris knelt\nbefore her and asked her blessing, for during fifteen years last past they\nhad not seen her. Anon she said, \"Where is my youngest son, Sir Gareth?\nfor I know that he was here a twelvemonth with you, and that ye made a\nkitchen knave of him. Then the king and all the knights knew that Sir\nBeaumains and Sir Gareth were the same. \"Truly,\" said the king, \"I knew\nhim not.\" \"Nor I,\" said Sir Gawain and both his brothers. Then said the\nking, \"God be thanked, fair sister, that he is proved as worshipful a\nknight as any now alive, and by the grace of Heaven he shall be found\nforthwith if he be anywhere within these seven realms.\" Then said Sir\nGawain and his brethren, \"Lord, if ye will give us leave we will go seek\nhim.\" But Sir Lancelot said, \"It were better that the king should send a\nmessenger to Dame Lyones and pray her to come hither with all speed, and\nshe will counsel where ye shall find him.\" \"It is well said,\" replied the\nking; and sent a messenger quickly unto Dame Lyones.\n\nWhen she heard the message she promised she would come forthwith, and told\nSir Gareth what the messenger had said, and asked him what to do. \"I pray\nyou,\" said he, \"tell them not where I am, but when my lord King Arthur\nasketh for me, advise him thus--that he proclaim a tournament before this\ncastle on Assumption Day, and that the knight who proveth best shall win\nyourself and all your lands.\" So the Lady Lyones departed and came to King\nArthur's court, and there was right nobly welcomed. And when they asked\nher where Sir Gareth was, she said she could not tell. \"But, lord,\" said\nshe, \"with thy goodwill I will proclaim a tournament before my castle on\nthe Feast of the Assumption, whereof the prize shall be myself and all my\nlands. Then if it be proclaimed that you, lord, and your knights will be\nthere, I will find knights on my side to fight you and yours, and thus am\nI sure ye will hear tidings of Sir Gareth.\" \"Be it so done,\" replied the\nking.\n\nSo Sir Gareth sent messengers privily to Sir Perseant and Sir Ironside,\nand charged them to be ready on the day appointed, with their companies of\nknights to aid him and his party against the king. And when they were\narrived he said, \"Now be ye well assured that we shall be matched with the\nbest knights of the world, and therefore must we gather all the good\nknights we can find.\"\n\nSo proclamation was made throughout all England, Wales, Scotland, Ireland,\nand Cornwall, and in the out isles and other countries, that at the Feast\nof the Assumption of our Lady, next coming, all knights who came to joust\nat Castle Perilous should make choice whether they would side with the\nking or with the castle. Then came many good knights on the side of the\ncastle. Sir Epinogris, the son of the King of Northumberland, and Sir\nPalomedes the Saracen, and Sir Grummore Grummorsum, a good knight of\nScotland, and Sir Brian des Iles, a noble knight, and Sir Carados of the\nTower Dolorous, and Sir Tristram, who as yet was not a knight of the Round\nTable, and many others. But none among them knew Sir Gareth, for he took\nno more upon him than any mean person.\n\nAnd on King Arthur's side there came the King of Ireland and the King of\nScotland, the noble prince Sir Galahaut, Sir Gawain and his brothers Sir\nAgravain and Sir Gaheris, Sir Ewaine, Sir Tor, Sir Perceval, and Sir\nLamoracke, Sir Lancelot also and his kindred, Sir Lionel, Sir Ector, Sir\nBors and Sir Bedivere, likewise Sir Key and the most part of the Table\nRound. The two queens also, Queen Guinevere and the Queen of Orkney, Sir\nGareth's mother, came with the king. So there was a great array both\nwithin and without the castle, with all manner of feasting and minstrelsy.\n\nNow before the tournament began, Sir Gareth privily prayed Dame Lyones,\nSir Gringamors, Sir Ironside, and Sir Perseant, that they would in nowise\ndisclose his name, nor make more of him than of any common knight. Then\nsaid Dame Lyones, \"Dear lord, I pray thee take this ring, which hath the\npower to change the wearer's clothing into any colour he may will, and\nguardeth him from any loss of blood. But give it me again, I pray thee,\nwhen the tournament is done, for it greatly increaseth my beauty\nwhensoever I wear it.\" \"Grammercy, mine own lady,\" said Sir Gareth, \"I\nwished for nothing better, for now I may be certainly disguised as long as\nI will.\" Then Sir Gringamors gave Sir Gareth a bay courser that was a\npassing good horse, with sure armour, and a noble sword, won by his father\nfrom a heathen tyrant. And then every knight made him ready for the\ntournament.\n\nSo on the day of the Assumption, when mass and matins were said, the\nheralds blew their trumpets and sounded for the tourney. Anon came out the\nknights of the castle and the knights of King Arthur, and matched\nthemselves together.\n\nThen Sir Epinogris, son of the King of Northumberland, a knight of the\ncastle, encountered Sir Ewaine, and both broke off their spears short to\ntheir hands. Then came Sir Palomedes from the castle, and met Sir Gawain,\nand they so hardly smote each other, that both knights and horses fell to\nthe earth. Then Sir Tristram, from the castle, encountered with Sir\nBedivere, and smote him to the earth, horse and man. Then the Knight of\nthe Redlands and Sir Gareth met with Sir Bors and Sir Bleoberis; and the\nKnight of the Redlands and Sir Bors smote together so hard that their\nspears burst, and their horses fell grovelling to the ground. And Sir\nBleoberis brake his spear upon Sir Gareth, but himself was hurled upon\nthe ground. When Sir Galihodin saw that, he bade Sir Gareth keep him, but\nSir Gareth lightly smote him to the earth. Then Sir Galihud got a spear to\navenge his brother, but was served in like manner. And Sir Dinadam, and\nhis brother La-cote-male-taile, and Sir Sagramour le Desirous, and Dodinas\nle Savage, he bore down all with one spear.\n\nWhen King Anguish of Ireland saw this, he marvelled what that knight could\nbe who seemed at one time green and at another blue; for so at every\ncourse he changed his colour that none might know him. Then he ran towards\nhim and encountered him, and Sir Gareth smote the king from his horse,\nsaddle and all. And in like manner he served the King of Scotland, and\nKing Urience of Gore, and King Bagdemagus.\n\nThen Sir Galahaut, the noble prince, cried out, \"Knight of the many\ncolours! thou hast jousted well; now make thee ready to joust with me.\"\nWhen Sir Gareth heard him, he took a great spear and met him swiftly. And\nthe prince's spear broke off, but Sir Gareth smote him on the left side of\nthe helm, so that he reeled here and there, and had fallen down had not\nhis men recovered him. \"By my faith,\" said King Arthur, \"that knight of\nthe many colours is a good knight. I pray thee, Sir Lancelot du Lake,\nencounter with him.\" \"Lord,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"by thy leave I will\nforbear. I find it in my heart to spare him at this time, for he hath done\nenough work for one day; and when a good knight doth so well it is no\nknightly part to hinder him from this honour. And peradventure his quarrel\nis here to-day, and he may be the best beloved of the Lady Lyones of all\nthat be here; for I see well he paineth and forceth himself to do great\ndeeds. Therefore, as for me, this day he shall have the honour; for\nthough I were able to put him from it, I would not.\" \"You speak well and\ntruly,\" said the king.\n\nThen after the tilting, they drew swords, and there began a great\ntournament, and there Sir Lancelot did marvellous deeds of arms, for first\nhe fought with both Sir Tristram and Sir Carados, albeit they were the\nmost perilous in all the world. Then came Sir Gareth and put them asunder,\nbut would not smite a stroke against Sir Lancelot, for by him he had been\nknighted. Anon Sir Gareth's helm had need of mending, and he rode aside to\nsee to it and to drink water, for he was sore athirst with all his mighty\nfeats of strength. And while he drank, his dwarf said to him, \"Give me\nyour ring, lest ye lose it while ye drink.\" So Sir Gareth took it off. And\nwhen he had finished drinking, he rode back eagerly to the field, and in\nhis haste forgot to take the ring again. Then all the people saw that he\nwore yellow armour. And King Arthur told a herald, \"Ride and espy the\ncognizance of that brave knight, for I have asked many who he is, and none\ncan tell me.\"\n\nThen the herald rode near, and saw written round about his helmet in\nletters of gold, \"Sir Gareth of Orkney.\" And instantly the herald cried\nhis name aloud, and all men pressed to see him.\n\nBut when he saw he was discovered, he pushed with haste through all the\ncrowd, and cried to his dwarf, Boy, thou hast beguiled me foully in\nkeeping my ring; give it me again, that I may be hidden.\" And as soon as\nhe had put it on, his armour changed again, and no man knew where he had\ngone. Then he passed forth from the field; but Sir Gawain, his brother,\nrode after him.\n\nAnd when Sir Gareth had ridden far into the forest, he took off his ring,\nand sent it back by the dwarf to the Lady Lyones, praying her to be true\nand faithful to him while he was away.\n\nThen rode Sir Gareth long through the forest, till night fell, and coming\nto a castle he went up to the gate, and prayed the porter to let him in.\nBut churlishly he answered \"that he should not lodge there.\" Then said Sir\nGareth, \"Tell thy lord and lady that I am a knight of King Arthur's court,\nand for his sake I pray their shelter.\" With that the porter went to the\nduchess who owned the castle. \"Let him in straightway,\" cried she; \"for\nthe king's sake he shall not be harbourless!\" and went down to receive\nhim. When Sir Gareth saw her coming, he saluted her, and said, \"Fair lady,\nI pray you give me shelter for this night, and if there be here any\nchampion or giant with whom I must needs fight, spare me till to-morrow,\nwhen I and my horse shall have rested, for we are full weary.\" \"Sir\nknight,\" she said, \"thou speakest boldly; for the lord of this castle is a\nfoe to King Arthur and his court, and if thou wilt rest here to-night thou\nmust agree, that wheresoever thou mayest meet my lord, thou must yield to\nhim as a prisoner.\" \"What is thy lord's name, lady?\" said Sir Gareth. \"The\nDuke de la Rowse,\" said she. \"I will promise thee,\" said he, \"to yield to\nhim, if he promise to do me no harm; but if he refuse, I will release\nmyself with my sword and spear.\"\n\n\"It is well,\" said the duchess; and commanded the drawbridge to be let\ndown. So he rode into the hall and alighted. And when he had taken off his\narmour, the duchess and her ladies made him passing good cheer. And after\nsupper his bed was made in the hall, and there he rested that night. On\nthe morrow he rose and heard mass, and having broken his fast, took his\nleave and departed.\n\n[Illustration: So he rode into the hall and alighted.]\n\nAnd as he rode past a certain mountain there met him a knight named Sir\nBendelaine, and cried unto him \"Thou shalt not pass unless thou joust with\nme or be my prisoner!\" \"Then will we joust,\" replied Sir Gareth. So they\nlet their horses run at full speed, and Sir Gareth smote Sir Bendelaine\nthrough his body so sorely that he scarcely reached his castle ere he fell\ndead. And as Sir Gareth presently came by the castle, Sir Bendelaine's\nknights and servants rode out to revenge their lord. And twenty of them\nfell on him at once, although his spear was broken. But drawing his sword\nhe put his shield before him. And though they brake their spears upon him,\none and all, and sorely pressed on him, yet ever he defended himself like\na noble knight. Anon, finding they could not overcome him, they agreed to\nslay his horse; and having killed it with their spears, they set upon Sir\nGareth as he fought on foot. But every one he struck he slew, and drave at\nthem with fearful blows, till he had slain them all but four, who fled.\nThen taking the horse of one of those that lay there dead, he rode upon\nhis way.\n\nAnon he came to another castle and heard from within a sound as of many\nwomen moaning and weeping. Then said he to a page who stood without, \"What\nnoise is this I hear?\" \"Sir knight,\" said he, \"there be within thirty\nladies, the widows of thirty knights who have been slain by the lord of\nthis castle. He is called the Brown Knight without pity, and is the most\nperilous knight living, wherefore I warn thee to flee.\" \"That will I never\ndo,\" said Sir Gareth, \"for I fear him not.\" Then the page saw the Brown\nKnight coming and said to Gareth, \"Lo! my lord is near.\"\n\nSo both knights made them ready and galloped their horses towards each\nother, and the Brown Knight brake his spear upon Sir Gareth's shield; but\nSir Gareth smote him through the body so that he fell dead. At that he\nrode into the castle and told the ladies he had slain their foe. Then were\nthey right glad of heart and made him all the cheer they could, and\nthanked him out of measure. But on the morrow as he went to mass he found\nthe ladies weeping in the chapel upon divers tombs that were there. And he\nknew that in those tombs their husbands lay. Then he bade them be\ncomforted, and with noble and high words he desired and prayed them all to\nbe at Arthur's court on the next Feast of Pentecost.\n\nSo he departed and rode past a mountain where was a goodly knight waiting,\nwho said to him, \"Abide, Sir knight, and joust with me!\" \"How are ye\nnamed?\" said Sir Gareth. \"I am the Duke de la Rowse,\" answered he. \"In\ngood sooth,\" then said Sir Gareth, \"not long ago I lodged within your\ncastle, and there promised I would yield to you whenever we might meet.\"\n\"Art thou that proud knight,\" said the duke, \"who was ready to fight with\nme? Guard thyself therefore and make ready.\" So they ran together, and Sir\nGareth smote the duke from his horse. Then they alighted and drew their\nswords, and fought full sorely for the space of an hour; and at the last\nSir Gareth smote the duke to the earth and would have slain him, but he\nyielded. \"Then must ye go,\" said Sir Gareth, \"to my lord King Arthur at\nthe next Feast of Pentecost and say that I, Sir Gareth, sent ye.\" \"As ye\nwill be it,\" said the duke; and gave him up his shield for pledge.\n\nAnd as Sir Gareth rode alone he saw an armed knight coming towards him.\nAnd putting the duke's shield before him he rode fast to tilt with him;\nand so they ran together as it had been thunder, and brake their spears\nupon each other. Then fought they fiercely with their swords and lashed\ntogether with such mighty strokes that blood ran to the ground on every\nside. And after they had fought together for two hours and more, it\nchanced the damsel Linet passed that way; and when she saw them she cried\nout, \"Sir Gawain and Sir Gareth, leave your fighting, for ye are\nbrethren!\" At that they threw away their shields and swords, and took each\nother in their arms and wept a great while ere they could speak. And each\ngave to the other the honour of the battle, and there was many a kind word\nbetween them. Then said Sir Gawain, \"O my brother, for your sake have I\nhad great sorrow and labour! But truly I would honour you though ye were\nnot my brother, for ye have done great worship to King Arthur and his\ncourt, and sent more knights to him than any of the Table Round, except\nSir Lancelot.\"\n\nThen the damsel Linet staunched their wounds, and their horses being weary\nshe rode her palfrey to King Arthur and told him of this strange\nadventure. When she had told her tidings, the king himself mounted his\nhorse and bade all come with him to meet them. So a great company of lords\nand ladies went forth to meet the brothers. And when King Arthur saw them\nhe would have spoken hearty words, but for gladness he could not. And both\nSir Gawain and Sir Gareth fell down at their uncle's knees and did him\nhomage, and there was passing great joy and gladness among them all.\n\nThen said the king to the damsel Linet, \"Why cometh not the Lady Lyones to\nvisit her knight, Sir Gareth, who hath had such travail for her love?\"\n\"She knoweth not, my lord, that he is here,\" replied the damsel, \"for\ntruly she desireth greatly to see him.\" \"Go ye and bring her hither,\"\nsaid the king. So the damsel rode to tell her sister where Sir Gareth was,\nand when she heard it she rejoiced full heartily and came with all the\nspeed she could. And when Sir Gareth saw her, there was great joy and\ncomfort between them.\n\nThen the king asked Sir Gareth whether he would have that lady for his\nwife? \"My lord,\" replied Sir Gareth, \"know well that I love her above all\nladies living.\" \"Now, fair lady,\" said King Arthur, \"what say ye?\" \"Most\nnoble king,\" she answered, \"my lord, Sir Gareth, is my first love and\nshall be my last, and if I may not have him for my husband I will have\nnone.\" Then said the king to them, \"Be well assured that for my crown I\nwould not be the cause of parting your two hearts.\"\n\nThen was high preparation made for the marriage, for the king desired it\nshould be at the Michaelmas next following, at Kinkenadon-by-the-Sea.\n\nSo Sir Gareth sent out messages to all the knights whom he had overcome in\nbattle that they should be there upon his marriage-day.\n\nTherefore, at the next Michaelmas, came a goodly company to\nKinkenadon-by-the-Sea. And there did the Archbishop of Canterbury marry\nSir Gareth and the Lady Lyones with all solemnity. And all the knights\nwhom Sir Gareth had overcome were at the feast; and every manner of revels\nand games was held with music and minstrelsy. And there was a great\njousting for three days. But because of his bride the king would not\nsuffer Sir Gareth to joust. Then did King Arthur give great lands and\nfair, with store of gold, to Sir Gareth and his wife, that so they might\nlive royally together to their lives' end.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\n_The Adventures of Sir Tristram of Lyonesse_\n\n\nAgain King Arthur held high festival at Caerleon, at Pentecost, and\ngathered round him all the fellowship of the Round Table, and so,\naccording to his custom, sat and waited till some adventure should arise,\nor some knight return to court whose deeds and perils might be told.\n\nAnon he saw Sir Lancelot and a crowd of knights coming through the doors\nand leading in their midst the mighty knight, Sir Tristram. As soon as\nKing Arthur saw him, he rose up and went through half the hall, and held\nout both his hands and cried, \"Right welcome to thee, good Sir Tristram,\nas welcome art thou as any knight that ever came before into this court. A\nlong time have I wished for thee amongst my fellowship.\" Then all the\nknights and barons rose up with one accord and came around, and cried out,\n\"Welcome.\" Queen Guinevere came also, and many ladies with her, and all\nwith one voice said the same.\n\nThen the king took Sir Tristram by the hand and led him to the Round Table\nand said, \"Welcome again for one of the best and gentlest knights in all\nthe world; a chief in war, a chief in peace, a chief in field and forest,\na chief in the ladies' chamber--right heartily welcome to this court, and\nmayest thou long abide in it.\"\n\nWhen he had so said he looked at every empty seat until he came to what\nhad been Sir Marhaus', and there he found written in gold letters, \"This\nis the seat of the noble knight, Sir Tristram.\" Whereat they made him,\nwith great cheer and gladness, a Fellow of the Round Table.\n\nNow the story of Sir Tristram was as follows:--\n\nThere was a king of Lyonesse, named Meliodas, married to the sister of\nKing Mark of Cornwall, a right fair lady and a good. And so it happened\nthat King Meliodas hunting in the woods was taken by enchantment and made\nprisoner in a castle. When his wife Elizabeth heard it she was nigh mad\nwith grief, and ran into the forest to seek out her lord. But after many\ndays of wandering and sorrow she found no trace of him, and laid her down\nin a deep valley and prayed to meet her death. And so indeed she did, but\nere she died she gave birth in the midst of all her sorrow to a child, a\nboy, and called him with her latest breath Tristram; for she said, \"His\nname shall show how sadly he hath come into this world.\"\n\nTherewith she gave up her ghost, and the gentlewoman who was with her took\nthe child and wrapped it from the cold as well as she was able, and lay\ndown with it in her arms beneath the shadow of a tree hard by, expecting\ndeath to come to her in turn.\n\nBut shortly after came a company of lords and barons seeking for the\nqueen, and found the lady and the child and took them home. And on the\nnext day came King Meliodas, whom Merlin had delivered, and when he heard\nof the queen's death his sorrow was greater than tongue can tell. And anon\nhe buried her solemnly and nobly, and called the child Tristram as she had\ndesired.\n\nThen for seven years King Meliodas mourned and took no comfort, and all\nthat time young Tristram was well nourished; but in a while he wedded with\nthe daughter of Howell, King of Brittany, who, that her own children might\nenjoy the kingdom, cast about in her mind how she might destroy Tristram.\nSo on a certain day she put poison in a silver cup, where Tristram and her\nchildren were together playing, that when he was athirst he might drink of\nit and die. But so it happened that her own son saw the cup, and, thinking\nit must hold good drink, he climbed and took it, and drank deeply of it,\nand suddenly thereafter burst and fell down dead.\n\nWhen the queen heard that, her grief was very great, but her anger and\nenvy were fiercer than before, and soon again she put more poison in the\ncup. And by chance one day her husband finding it when thirsty, took it up\nand was about to drink therefrom, when, seeing him, she sprang up with a\nmighty cry and dashed it from his hands.\n\nAt that King Meliodas, wondering greatly, called to mind the sudden death\nof his young child, and taking her fiercely by the hand he cried:\n\n\"Traitress, tell me what drink is in this cup or I will slay thee in a\nmoment;\" and therewith pulling out his sword he swore by a great oath to\nslay her if she straightway told him not the truth.\n\n\"Ah, mercy, lord,\" said she, and fell down at his feet; \"mercy, and I will\ntell thee all.\"\n\nAnd then she told him of her plot to murder Tristram, that her own sons\nmight enjoy the kingdom.\n\n\"The law shall judge thee,\" said the king.\n\nAnd so anon she was tried before the barons, and condemned to be burnt to\ndeath.\n\nBut when the fire was made, and she brought out, came Tristram kneeling at\nhis father's feet and besought of him a favour.\n\n\"Whatsoever thou desirest I will give thee,\" said the king.\n\n\"Give me the life, then, of the queen, my stepmother,\" said he.\n\n\"Thou doest wrong to ask it,\" said Meliodas; \"for she would have slain\nthee with her poisons if she could, and chiefly for thy sake she ought to\ndie.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said he, \"as for that, I beseech thee of thy mercy to forgive it\nher, and for my part may God pardon her as I do; and so I pray thee grant\nme my boon, and for God's sake hold thee to thy promise.\"\n\n\"If it must be so,\" said the king, \"take thou her life, for to thee I give\nit, and go and do with her as thou wilt.\"\n\nThen went young Tristram to the fire and loosed the queen from all her\nbonds and delivered her from death.\n\nAnd after a great while by his good means the king again forgave and lived\nin peace with her, though never more in the same lodgings.\n\nAnon was Tristram sent abroad to France in care of one named Governale.\nAnd there for seven years he learned the language of the land, and all\nknightly exercises and gentle crafts, and especially was he foremost in\nmusic and in hunting, and was a harper beyond all others. And when at\nnineteen years of age he came back to his father, he was as lusty and\nstrong of body and as noble of heart as ever man was seen.\n\nNow shortly after his return it befell that King Anguish of Ireland sent\nto King Mark of Cornwall for the tribute due to Ireland, but which was now\nseven years behindhand. To whom King Mark sent answer, if he would have it\nhe must send and fight for it, and they would find a champion to fight\nagainst it.\n\nSo King Anguish called for Sir Marhaus, his wife's brother, a good knight\nof the Round Table, who lived then at his court, and sent him with a\nknightly retinue in six great ships to Cornwall. And, casting anchor by\nthe castle of Tintagil, he sent up daily to King Mark for the tribute or\nthe champion. But no knight there would venture to assail him, for his\nfame was very high in all the realm for strength and hardihood.\n\nThen made King Mark a proclamation throughout Cornwall, that if any knight\nwould fight Sir Marhaus he should stand at the king's right hand for\nevermore, and have great honour and riches all the rest of his days. Anon\nthis news came to the land of Lyonesse, and when young Tristram heard it\nhe was angry and ashamed to think no knight of Cornwall durst assail the\nIrish champion. \"Alas,\" said he, \"that I am not a knight, that I might\nmatch this Marhaus! I pray you give me leave, sir, to depart to King\nMark's court and beg of his grace to make me knight.\"\n\n\"Be ruled by thy own courage,\" said his father.\n\nSo Tristram rode away forthwith to Tintagil to King Mark, and went up\nboldly to him and said, \"Sir, give me the order of knighthood and I will\nfight to the uttermost with Sir Marhaus of Ireland.\"\n\n\"What are ye, and whence come ye?\" said the king, seeing he was but a\nyoung man, though strong and well made both in body and limb.\n\n\"My name is Tristram,\" said he, \"and I was born in the country of\nLyonesse.\"\n\n\"But know ye,\" said the king, \"this Irish knight will fight with none who\nbe not come of royal blood and near of kin to kings or queens, as he\nhimself is, for his sister is the Queen of Ireland.\"\n\nThen said Tristram, \"Let him know that I am come both on my father's and\nmy mother's side of blood as good as his, for my father is King Meliodas\nand my mother was that Queen Elizabeth, thy sister, who died in the forest\nat my birth.\"\n\nWhen King Mark heard that he welcomed him with all his heart, and knighted\nhim forthwith, and made him ready to go forth as soon as he would choose,\nand armed him royally in armour covered with gold and silver.\n\nThen he sent Sir Marhaus word, \"That a better man than he should fight\nwith him, Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, son of King Meliodas and of King\nMark's own sister.\" So the battle was ordained to be fought in an island\nnear Sir Marhaus' ships, and there Sir Tristram landed on the morrow, with\nGovernale alone attending him for squire, and him he sent back to the land\nwhen he had made himself ready.\n\nWhen Sir Marhaus and Sir Tristram were thus left alone, Sir Marhaus said,\n\"Young knight Sir Tristram what doest thou here? I am full sorry for thy\nrashness, for ofttimes have I been assailed in vain, and by the best\nknights of the world. Be warned in time, return to them that sent thee.\"\n\n\"Fair knight, and well-proved knight,\" replied Sir Tristram, \"be sure that\nI shall never quit this quarrel till one of us be overcome. For this cause\nhave I been made knight, and thou shalt know before we part that though as\nyet unproved, I am a king's son and first-born of a queen. Moreover I have\npromised to deliver Cornwall from this ancient burden, or to die. Also,\nthou shouldst have known, Sir Marhaus, that thy valour and thy might are\nbut the better reasons why I should assail thee; for whether I win or lose\nI shall gain honour to have met so great a knight as thou art.\"\n\nThen they began the battle, and tilted at their hardest against each\nother, so that both knights and horses fell to the earth. But Sir Marhaus'\nspear smote Sir Tristram a great wound in the side. Then, springing up\nfrom their horses, they lashed together with their swords like two wild\nboars. And when they had stricken together a great while they left off\nstrokes and lunged at one another's breasts and visors; but seeing this\navailed not they hurtled together again to bear each other down.\n\n[Illustration: Then they began the battle, and tilted at their hardest\nagainst each other.]\n\nThus fought they more than half the day, till both were sorely spent and\nblood ran from them to the ground on every side. But by this time Sir\nTristram remained fresher than Sir Marhaus and better winded, and with a\nmighty stroke he smote him such a buffet as cut through his helm into his\nbrain-pan, and there his sword stuck in so fast that thrice Sir Tristram\npulled ere he could get it from his head. Then fell Sir Marhaus down upon\nhis knees, and the edge of Sir Tristram's sword broke off into his\nbrain-pan. And suddenly when he seemed dead, Sir Marhaus rose and threw\nhis sword and shield away from him and ran and fled into his ship. And\nTristram cried out after him, \"Aha! Sir knight of the Round Table, dost\nthou withdraw thee from so young a knight? it is a shame to thee and all\nthy kin; I would rather have been hewn into a hundred pieces than have\nfled from thee.\"\n\nBut Sir Marhaus answered nothing, and sorely groaning fled away.\n\n\"Farewell, Sir knight, farewell,\" laughed Tristram, whose own voice now\nwas hoarse and faint with loss of blood; \"I have thy sword and shield in\nmy safe keeping, and will wear them in all places where I ride on my\nadventures, and before King Arthur and the Table Round.\"\n\nThen was Sir Marhaus taken back to Ireland by his company; and as soon as\nhe arrived his wounds were searched, and when they searched his head they\nfound therein a piece of Tristram's sword; but all the skill of surgeons\nwas in vain to move it out. So anon Sir Marhaus died.\n\nBut the queen, his sister, took the piece of sword-blade and put it safely\nby, for she thought that some day it might help her to revenge her\nbrother's death.\n\nMeanwhile, Sir Tristram, being sorely wounded, sat down softly on a little\nmound and bled passing fast; and in that evil case was found anon by\nGovernale and King Mark's knights. Then they gently took him up and\nbrought him in a barge back to the land, and lifted him into a bed within\nthe castle, and had his wounds dressed carefully.\n\nBut for a great while he lay sorely sick, and was likely to have died of\nthe first stroke Sir Marhaus had given him with the spear, for the point\nof it was poisoned. And, though the wisest surgeons and leeches--both men\nand women--came from every part, yet could he be by no means cured. At\nlast came a wise lady, and said plainly that Sir Tristram never should be\nhealed, until he went and stayed in that same country whence the poison\ncame. When this was understood, the king sent Sir Tristram in a fair and\ngoodly ship to Ireland, and by fortune he arrived fast by a castle where\nthe king and queen were. And as the ship was being anchored, he sat upon\nhis bed and harped a merry lay, and made so sweet a music as was never\nequalled.\n\nWhen the king heard that the sweet harper was a wounded knight, he sent\nfor him, and asked his name. \"I am of the country of Lyonesse,\" he\nanswered, \"and my name is Tramtrist;\" for he dared not tell his true name\nlest the vengeance of the queen should fall upon him for her brother's\ndeath.\n\n\"Well,\" said King Anguish, \"thou art right welcome here, and shalt have\nall the help this land can give thee; but be not anxious if I am at times\ncast down and sad, for but lately in Cornwall the best knight in the\nworld, fighting for my cause, was slain; his name was Sir Marhaus, a\nknight of King Arthur's Round Table.\" And then he told Sir Tristram all\nthe story of Sir Marhaus' battle, and Sir Tristram made pretence of great\nsurprise and sorrow, though he knew all far better than the king himself.\n\nThen was he put in charge of the king's daughter, La Belle Isault, to be\nhealed of his wound, and she was as fair and noble a lady as men's eyes\nmight see. And so marvellously was she skilled in medicine, that in a few\ndays she fully cured him; and in return Sir Tristram taught her the harp;\nso, before long, they two began to love each other greatly.\n\nBut at that time a heathen knight, Sir Palomedes, was in Ireland, and much\ncherished by the king and queen. He also loved mightily La Belle Isault,\nand never wearied of making her great gifts, and seeking for her favour,\nand was ready even to be christened for her sake. Sir Tristram therefore\nhated him out of measure, and Sir Palomedes was full of rage and envy\nagainst Tristram.\n\nAnd so it befell that King Anguish proclaimed a great tournament to be\nheld, the prize whereof should be a lady called the Lady of the Launds, of\nnear kindred to the king: and her the winner of the tournament should wed\nin three days afterwards, and possess all her lands. When La Belle Isault\ntold Sir Tristram of this tournament, he said, \"Fair lady! I am yet a\nfeeble knight, and but for thee had been a dead man now: what wouldest\nthou I should do? Thou knowest well I may not joust.\"\n\n\"Ah, Tristram,\" said she, \"why wilt thou not fight in this tournament? Sir\nPalomedes will be there, and will do his mightiest; and therefore be thou\nthere, I pray thee, or else he will be winner of the prize.\"\n\n\"Madam,\" said Tristram, \"I will go, and for thy sake will do my best; but\nlet me go unknown to all men; and do thou, I pray thee, keep my counsel,\nand help me to a disguise.\"\n\nSo on the day of jousting came Sir Palomedes, with a black shield, and\noverthrew many knights. And all the people wondered at his prowess; for on\nthe first day he put to the worse Sir Gawain, Sir Gaheris, Sir Agravaine,\nSir Key, and many more from far and near. And on the morrow he was\nconqueror again, and overthrew the king with a hundred knights and the\nKing of Scotland. But presently Sir Tristram rode up to the lists, having\nbeen let out at a privy postern of the castle, where none could see. La\nBelle Isault had dressed him in white armour and given him a white horse\nand shield, and so he came suddenly into the field as it had been a bright\nangel.\n\nAs soon as Sir Palomedes saw him he ran at him with a great spear in rest,\nbut Sir Tristram was ready, and at the first encounter hurled him to the\nground. Then there arose a great cry that the knight with the black shield\nwas overthrown. And Palomedes sorely hurt and shamed, sought out a secret\nway and would have left the field; but Tristram watched him, and rode\nafter him, and bade him stay, for he had not yet done with him. Then did\nSir Palomedes turn with fury, and lash at Sir Tristram with his sword; but\nat the first stroke Sir Tristram smote him to the earth, and cried, \"Do\nnow all my commands, or take thy death.\" Then he yielded to Sir Tristram's\nmercy, and promised to forsake La Belle Isault, and for twelve months to\nwear no arms or armour. And rising up, he cut his armour off him into\nshreds with rage and madness, and turned and left the field: and Sir\nTristram also left the lists, and rode back to the castle through the\npostern gate.\n\nThen was Sir Tristram long cherished by the King and Queen of Ireland, and\never with La Belle Isault. But on a certain day, while he was bathing,\ncame the queen with La Belle Isault by chance into his chamber, and saw\nhis sword lie naked on the bed: anon she drew it from the scabbard and\nlooked at it a long while, and both thought it a passing fair sword; but\nwithin a foot and a half of the end there was a great piece broken out,\nand while the queen was looking at the gap, she suddenly remembered the\npiece of sword-blade that was found in the brain-pan of her brother Sir\nMarhaus.\n\nTherewith she turned and cried, \"By my faith, this is the felon knight who\nslew thy uncle!\" And running to her chamber she sought in her casket for\nthe piece of iron from Sir Marhaus' head and brought it back, and fitted\nit in Tristram's sword; and surely did it fit therein as closely as it had\nbeen but yesterday broke out.\n\n[Illustration: And running to her chamber, she sought in her casket for\nthe piece of iron ... and fitted it in Tristram's sword.]\n\nThen the queen caught the sword up fiercely in her hand, and ran into the\nroom where Sir Tristram was yet in his bath, and making straight for him,\nhad run him through the body, had not his squire, Sir Hebes, got her in\nhis arms, and pulled the sword away from her.\n\nThen ran she to the king, and fell upon her knees before him, saying,\n\"Lord and husband, thou hast here in thy house that felon knight who slew\nmy brother Marhaus!\"\n\n\"Who is it?\" said the king.\n\n\"It is Sir Tristram!\" said she, \"whom Isault hath healed.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" replied the king, \"I am full grieved thereat, for he is a good\nknight as ever I have seen in any field; but I charge thee leave thou him,\nand let me deal with him.\"\n\nThen the king went to Sir Tristram's chamber and found him all armed and\nready to mount his horse, and said to him, \"Sir Tristram, it is not to\nprove me against thee I come, for it were shameful of thy host to seek thy\nlife. Depart in peace, but tell me first thy name, and whether thou\nslewest my brother, Sir Marhaus.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram told him all the truth, and how he had hid his name, to\nbe unknown in Ireland; and when he had ended, the king declared he held\nhim in no blame. \"Howbeit, I cannot for mine honour's sake retain thee at\nthis court, for so I should displease my barons, and my wife, and all her\nkin.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I thank thee for the goodness thou hast shown\nme here, and for the great goodness my lady, thy daughter, hath shown me;\nand it may chance to be more for thy advantage if I live than if I die;\nfor wheresoever I may be, I shall ever seek thy service, and shall be my\nlady thy daughter's servant in all places, and her knight in right and\nwrong, and shall never fail to do for her as much as knight can do.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram went to La Belle Isault, and took his leave of her. \"O\ngentle knight,\" said she, \"full of grief am I at your departing, for never\nyet I saw a man to love so well.\"\n\n\"Madam,\" said he, \"I promise faithfully that all my life I shall be your\nknight.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram gave her a ring, and she gave him another, and after\nthat he left her, weeping and lamenting, and went among the barons, and\nopenly took his leave of them all, saying, \"Fair lords, it so befalleth\nthat I now must depart hence; therefore, if there be any here whom I have\noffended or who is grieved with me, let him now say it, and before I go I\nwill amend it to the utmost of my power. And if there be but one who\nwould speak shame of me behind my back, let him say it now or never, and\nhere is my body to prove it on--body against body.\"\n\nAnd all stood still and said no word, though some there were of the\nqueen's kindred who would have assailed him had they dared.\n\nSo Sir Tristram departed from Ireland and took the sea and came with a\nfair wind to Tintagil. And when the news came to King Mark that Sir\nTristram was returned, healed of his wound, he was passing glad, and so\nwere all his barons. And when he had visited the king his uncle, he rode\nto his father, King Meliodas, and there had all the heartiest welcome that\ncould be made him. And both the king and queen gave largely to him of\ntheir lands and goods.\n\nAnon he came again to King Mark's court, and there lived in great joy and\npleasure, till within a while the king grew jealous of his fame, and of\nthe love and favour shown him by all damsels. And as long as King Mark\nlived, he never after loved Sir Tristram, though there was much fair\nspeech between them.\n\nThen it befell upon a certain day that the good knight Sir Bleoberis de\nGanis, brother to Sir Blamor de Ganis, and nigh cousin to Sir Lancelot of\nthe Lake, came to King Mark's court and asked of him a favour. And though\nthe king marvelled, seeing he was a man of great renown, and a knight of\nthe Round Table, he granted him all his asking. Then said Sir Bleoberis,\n\"I will have the fairest lady in your court, at my own choosing.\"\n\n\"I may not say thee nay,\" replied the king; \"choose therefore, but take\nall the issues of thy choice.\"\n\nSo when he had looked around, he chose the wife of Earl Segwarides, and\ntook her by the hand, and set her upon horseback behind his squire, and\nrode forth on his way.\n\nPresently thereafter came in the earl, and rode out straightway after him\nin rage. But all the ladies cried out shame upon Sir Tristram that he had\nnot gone, and one rebuked him foully and called him coward knight, that he\nwould stand and see a lady forced away from his uncle's court. But Sir\nTristram answered her, \"Fair lady, it is not my place to take part in this\nquarrel while her lord and husband is here to do it. Had he not been at\nthis court, peradventure I had been her champion. And if it so befall that\nhe speed ill, then may it happen that I speak with that foul knight before\nhe pass out of this realm.\"\n\nAnon ran in one of Sir Segwarides' squires, and told that his master was\nsore wounded, and at the point of death. When Sir Tristram heard that, he\nwas soon armed and on his horse, and Governale, his servant, followed him\nwith shield and spear.\n\nAnd as he rode, he met his cousin Sir Andret, who had been commanded by\nKing Mark to bring home to him two knights of King Arthur's court who\nroamed the country thereabouts seeking adventures.\n\n\"What tidings?\" said Sir Tristram.\n\n\"God help me, never worse,\" replied his cousin; \"for those I went to bring\nhave beaten and defeated me, and set my message at naught.\"\n\n\"Fair cousin,\" said Sir Tristram, \"ride ye on your way, perchance if I\nshould meet them ye may be revenged.\"\n\nSo Sir Andret rode into Cornwall, but Sir Tristram rode after the two\nknights who had misused him, namely, Sir Sagramour le Desirous, and Sir\nDodinas le Savage. And before long he saw them but a little way before\nhim.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Governale, \"by my advice thou wilt leave them alone, for they\nbe two well-proved knights of Arthur's court.\"\n\n\"Shall I not therefore rather meet them?\" said Sir Tristram, and, riding\nswiftly after them, he called to them to stop, and asked them whence they\ncame, and whither they were going, and what they were doing in those\nmarches.\n\nSir Sagramour looked haughtily at Sir Tristram, and made mocking of his\nwords, and said, \"Fair knight, be ye a knight of Cornwall?\"\n\n\"Wherefore askest thou that?\" said Tristram.\n\n\"Truly, because it is full seldom seen,\" replied Sir Sagramour, \"that\nCornish knights are valiant with their arms as with their tongues. It is\nbut two hours since there met us such a Cornish knight, who spoke great\nwords with might and prowess, but anon, with little mastery, he was laid\non earth, as I trow wilt thou be also.\"\n\n\"Fair lords,\" said Sir Tristram, \"it may chance I be a better man than he;\nbut, be that as it may, he was my cousin, and for his sake I will assail\nye both; one Cornish knight against ye two.\"\n\nWhen Sir Dodinas le Savage heard this speech, he caught at his spear and\nsaid, \"Sir knight, keep well thyself;\" and then they parted and came\ntogether as it had been thunder, and Sir Dodinas' spear split asunder; but\nSir Tristram smote him with so full a stroke as hurled him over his\nhorse's crupper, and nearly brake his neck. Sir Sagramour, seeing his\nfellow's fall, marvelled who this new knight might be, and dressed his\nspear, and came against Sir Tristram as a whirlwind; but Sir Tristram\nsmote him a mighty buffet, and rolled him with his horse down on the\nground; and in the falling he brake his thigh.\n\nThen, looking at them both as they lay grovelling on the grass, Sir\nTristram said, \"Fair knights, will ye joust any more? Are there no bigger\nknights in King Arthur's court? Will ye soon again speak shame of Cornish\nknights?\"\n\n\"Thou hast defeated us, in truth,\" replied Sir Sagramour, \"and on the\nfaith of knighthood I require thee tell us thy right name?\"\n\n\"Ye charge me by a great thing,\" said Sir Tristram, \"and I will answer\nye.\"\n\nAnd when they heard his name the two knights were right glad that they had\nmet Sir Tristram, for his deeds were known through all the land, and they\nprayed him to abide in their company.\n\n\"Nay,\" said he, \"I must find a fellow-knight of yours, Sir Bleoberis de\nGanis, whom I seek.\"\n\n\"God speed you well,\" said the two knights; and Sir Tristram rode away.\n\nSoon he saw before him in a valley Sir Bleoberis with Sir Segwarides' wife\nriding behind his squire upon a palfrey. At that he cried out aloud,\n\"Abide, Sir knight of King Arthur's court, bring back again that lady or\ndeliver her to me.\"\n\n\"I will not,\" said Bleoberis, \"for I dread no Cornish knight.\"\n\n\"Why,\" said Sir Tristram, \"may not a Cornish knight do well as any other?\nThis day, but three miles back, two knights of thy own court met me, and\nfound one Cornish knight enough for both before we parted.\"\n\n\"What were their names?\" said Sir Bleoberis.\n\n\"Sir Sagramour le Desirous and Sir Dodinas le Savage,\" said Sir Tristram.\n\n\"Ah,\" said Sir Bleoberis, amazed; \"hast thou then met with them? By my\nfaith, they were two good knights and men of worship, and if thou hast\nbeat both thou must needs be a good knight; but for all that thou shalt\nbeat me also ere thou hast this lady.\"\n\n\"Defend thee, then,\" cried out Sir Tristram, and came upon him swiftly\nwith his spear in rest. But Sir Bleoberis was as swift as he, and each\nbore down the other, horse and all, on to the earth.\n\nThen they sprang clear of their horses, and lashed together full eagerly\nand mightily with their swords, tracing and traversing on the right hand\nand on the left more than two hours, and sometimes rushing together with\nsuch fury that they both lay grovelling on the ground. At last Sir\nBleoberis started back and said, \"Now, gentle knight, hold hard awhile,\nand let us speak together.\"\n\n\"Say on,\" said Sir Tristram, \"and I will answer thee.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Bleoberis, \"I would know thy name, and court, and\ncountry.\"\n\n\"I have no shame to tell them,\" said Sir Tristram. \"I am King Meliodas'\nson, and my mother was sister to King Mark, from whose court I now come.\nMy name is Sir Tristram de Lyonesse.\" \"Truly,\" said Sir Bleoberis, \"I am\nright glad to hear it, for thou art he that slew Sir Marhaus hand-to-hand,\nfighting for the Cornish tribute; and overcame Sir Palomedes at the great\nIrish tournament, where also thou didst overthrow Sir Gawain and his nine\ncompanions.\"\n\n\"I am that knight,\" said Sir Tristram, \"and now I pray thee tell me thy\nname.\"\n\n\"I am Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, cousin of Sir Lancelot of the Lake, one of\nthe best knights in all the world,\" he answered.\n\n\"Thou sayest truth,\" said Sir Tristram; \"for Sir Lancelot, as all men\nknow, is peerless in courtesy and knighthood, and for the great love I\nbear to his name I will not willingly fight more with thee his kinsman.\"\n\n\"In good faith, sir,\" said Sir Bleoberis, \"I am as loth to fight thee\nmore; but since thou hast followed me to win this lady, I proffer thee\nkindness, courtesy, and gentleness; this lady shall be free to go with\nwhich of us she pleaseth best.\"\n\n\"I am content,\" said Sir Tristram, \"for I doubt not she will come to me.\"\n\n\"That shalt thou shortly prove,\" said he, and called his squire, and set\nthe lady in the midst between them, who forthwith walked to Sir Bleoberis\nand elected to abide with him. Which, when Sir Tristram saw, he was in\nwondrous anger with her, and felt that he could scarce for shame return to\nKing Mark's court. But Sir Bleoberis said, \"Hearken to me, good knight,\nSir Tristram, because King Mark gave me free choice of any gift, and\nbecause this lady chose to go with me, I took her; but now I have\nfulfilled my quest and my adventure, and for thy sake she shall be sent\nback to her husband at the abbey where he lieth.\"\n\nSo Sir Tristram rode back to Tintagil, and Sir Bleoberis to the abbey\nwhere Sir Segwarides lay wounded, and there delivered up his lady, and\ndeparted as a noble knight.\n\nAfter this adventure Sir Tristram abode still at his uncle's court, till\nin the envy of his heart King Mark devised a plan to be rid of him. So on\na certain day he desired him to depart again for Ireland, and there demand\nLa Belle Isault on his behalf, to be his queen--for ever had Sir Tristram\npraised her beauty and her goodness, till King Mark desired to wed her for\nhimself. Moreover, he believed his nephew surely would be slain by the\nqueen's kindred if he once were found again in Ireland.\n\nBut Sir Tristram, scorning fear, made ready to depart, and took with him\nthe noblest knights that could be found, arrayed in the richest fashion.\n\nAnd when they were come to Ireland, upon a certain day Sir Tristram gave\nhis uncle's message, and King Anguish consented thereto.\n\nBut when La Belle Isault was told the tidings she was very sorrowful and\nloth--yet made she ready to set forth with Sir Tristram, and took with her\nDame Bragwaine, her chief gentlewoman. Then the queen gave Dame Bragwaine,\nand Governale, Sir Tristram's servant, a little flask, and charged them\nthat La Belle Isault and King Mark should both drink of it on their\nmarriage day, and then should they surely love each other all their lives.\n\nAnon, Sir Tristram and Isault, with a great company, took the sea and\ndeparted. And so it chanced that one day sitting in their cabin they were\nathirst, and saw a little flask of gold which seemed to hold good wine. So\nSir Tristram took it up, and said, \"Fair lady, this looketh to be the best\nof wines, and your maid, Dame Bragwaine, and my servant, Governale, have\nkept it for themselves.\" Thereat they both laughed merrily, and drank each\nafter other from the flask, and never before had they tasted any wine\nwhich seemed so good and sweet. But by the time they had finished drinking\nthey loved each other so well that their love nevermore might leave them\nfor weal or woe. And thus it came to pass that though Sir Tristram might\nnever wed La Belle Isault, he did the mightiest deeds of arms for her sake\nonly all his life.\n\n[Illustration: By the time they had finished drinking they loved each\nother so well that their love never more might leave them.]\n\nThen they sailed onwards till they came to a castle called Pluere, where\nthey would have rested. But anon there ran forth a great company and took\nthem prisoners. And when they were in prison, Sir Tristram asked a knight\nand lady whom they found therein wherefore they were so shamefully dealt\nwith; \"for,\" said he, \"it was never the custom of any place of honour that\nI ever came unto to seize a knight and lady asking shelter and thrust them\ninto prison, and a full evil and discourteous custom is it.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the knight, \"know ye not that this is called the Castle\nPluere, or the weeping castle, and that it is an ancient custom here that\nwhatsoever knight abideth in it must needs fight the lord of it, Sir\nBrewnor, and he that is the weakest shall lose his head. And if the lady\nhe hath with him be less fair than the lord's wife, she shall lose her\nhead; but if she be fairer, then must the lady of the castle lose her\nhead.\"\n\n\"Now Heaven help me,\" said Sir Tristram, \"but this is a foul and shameful\ncustom. Yet have I one advantage, for my lady is the fairest that doth\nlive in all the world, so that I nothing fear for her; and as for me, I\nwill full gladly fight for my own head in a fair field.\"\n\nThen said the knight, \"Look ye be up betimes to-morrow, and make you ready\nand your lady.\"\n\nAnd on the morrow came Sir Brewnor to Sir Tristram, and put him and Isault\nforth out of prison, and brought him a horse and armour, and bade him make\nready, for all the commons and estates of that lordship waited in the\nfield to see and judge the battle.\n\nThen Sir Brewnor, holding his lady by the hand, all muffled, came forth,\nand Sir Tristram went to meet him with La Belle Isault beside him, muffled\nalso. Then said Sir Brewnor, \"Sir knight, if thy lady be fairer than mine,\nwith thy sword smite off my lady's head; but if my lady be fairer than\nthine, with my sword I will smite off thy lady's head. And if I overcome\nthee thy lady shall be mine, and thou shalt lose thy head.\"\n\n\"Sir knight,\" replied Sir Tristram, \"this is a right foul and felon\ncustom, and rather than my lady shall lose her head will I lose my own.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Sir Brewnor, \"but the ladies shall be now compared together\nand judgment shall be had.\"\n\n\"I consent not,\" cried Sir Tristram, \"for who is here that will give\nrightful judgment? Yet doubt not that my lady is far fairer than thine\nown, and that will I prove and make good.\" Therewith Sir Tristram lifted\nup the veil from off La Belle Isault, and stood beside her with his naked\nsword drawn in his hand.\n\nThen Sir Brewnor unmuffled his lady and did in like manner. But when he\nsaw La Belle Isault he knew that none could be so fair, and all there\npresent gave their judgment so. Then said Sir Tristram, \"Because thou and\nthy lady have long used this evil custom, and have slain many good knights\nand ladies, it were a just thing to destroy thee both.\"\n\n\"In good sooth,\" said Sir Brewnor, \"thy lady is fairer than mine, and of\nall women I never saw any so fair. Therefore, slay my lady if thou wilt,\nand I doubt not but I shall slay thee and have thine.\"\n\n\"Thou shalt win her,\" said Sir Tristram, \"as dearly as ever knight won\nlady; and because of thy own judgment and of the evil custom that thy lady\nhath consented to, I will slay her as thou sayest.\"\n\nAnd therewithal Sir Tristram went to him and took his lady from him, and\nsmote off her head at a stroke.\n\n\"Now take thy horse,\" cried out Sir Brewnor, \"for since I have lost my\nlady I will win thine and have thy life.\"\n\nSo they took their horses and came together as fast as they could fly, and\nSir Tristram lightly smote Sir Brewnor from his horse. But he rose right\nquickly, and when Sir Tristram came again he thrust his horse through both\nthe shoulders, so that it reeled and fell. But Sir Tristram was light and\nnimble, and voided his horse, and rose up and dressed his shield before\nhim, though meanwhile, ere he could draw out his sword, Sir Brewnor gave\nhim three or four grievous strokes. Then they rushed furiously together\nlike two wild boars, and fought hurtling and hewing here and there for\nnigh two hours, and wounded each other full sorely. Then at the last Sir\nBrewnor rushed upon Sir Tristram and took him in his arms to throw him,\nfor he trusted greatly in his strength. But Sir Tristram was at that time\ncalled the strongest and biggest knight of the world; for he was bigger\nthan Sir Lancelot, though Sir Lancelot was better breathed. So anon he\nthrust Sir Brewnor grovelling to the earth, and then unlaced his helm and\nstruck off his head. Then all they that belonged to the castle came and\ndid him homage and fealty, and prayed him to abide there for a season and\nput an end to that foul custom.\n\nBut within a while he departed and came to Cornwall, and there King Mark\nwas forthwith wedded to La Belle Isault with great joy and splendour.\n\nAnd Sir Tristram had high honour, and ever lodged at the king's court. But\nfor all he had done him such services King Mark hated him, and on a\ncertain day he set two knights to fall upon him as he rode in the forest.\nBut Sir Tristram lightly smote one's head off, and sorely wounded the\nother, and made him bear his fellow's body to the king. At that the king\ndissembled and hid from Sir Tristram that the knights were sent by him;\nyet more than ever he hated him in secret, and sought to slay him.\n\nSo on a certain day, by the assent of Sir Andret, a false knight, and\nforty other knights, Sir Tristram was taken prisoner in his sleep and\ncarried to a chapel on the rocks above the sea to be cast down. But as\nthey were about to cast him in, suddenly he brake his bonds asunder, and\nrushing at Sir Andret, took his sword and smote him down therewith. Then,\nleaping down the rocks where none could follow, he escaped them. But one\nshot after him and wounded him full sorely with a poisoned arrow in the\narm.\n\nAnon, his servant Governale, with Sir Lambegus sought him and found him\nsafe among the rocks, and told him that King Mark had banished him and all\nhis followers to avenge Sir Andret's death. So they took ship and came to\nBrittany.\n\nNow Sir Tristram, suffering great anguish from his wound, was told to seek\nIsoude, the daughter of the King of Brittany, for she alone could cure\nsuch wounds. Wherefore he went to King Howell's court, and said, \"Lord, I\nam come into this country to have help from thy daughter, for men tell me\nnone but she may help me.\" And Isoude gladly offering to do her best,\nwithin a month he was made whole.\n\nWhile he abode still at that court, an earl named Grip made war upon King\nHowell, and besieged him; and Sir Kay Hedius, the king's son, went forth\nagainst him, but was beaten in battle and sore wounded. Then the king\npraying Sir Tristram for his help, he took with him such knights as he\ncould find, and on the morrow, in another battle, did such deeds of arms\nthat all the land spake of him. For there he slew the earl with his own\nhands, and more than a hundred knights besides.\n\nWhen he came back King Howell met him, and saluted him with every honour\nand rejoicing that could be thought of, and took him in his arms, and\nsaid, \"Sir Tristram, all my kingdom will I resign to thee.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" answered he, \"God forbid, for truly am I beholden to you for ever\nfor your daughter's sake.\"\n\nThen the king prayed him to take Isoude in marriage, with a great dower of\nlands and castles. To this Sir Tristram presently consenting anon they\nwere wedded at the court.\n\nBut within a while Sir Tristram greatly longed to see Cornwall, and Sir\nKay Hedius desired to go with him. So they took ship; but as soon as they\nwere at sea the wind blew them upon the coast of North Wales, nigh to\nCastle Perilous, hard by a forest wherein were many strange adventures\nofttimes to be met. Then said Sir Tristram to Sir Kay Hedius, \"Let us\nprove some of them ere we depart.\" So they took their horses and rode\nforth.\n\nWhen they had ridden a mile or more, Sir Tristram spied a goodly knight\nbefore him well armed, who sat by a clear fountain with a strong horse\nnear him, tied to an oak-tree. \"Fair sir,\" said he, when they came near,\n\"ye seem to be a knight errant by your arms and harness, therefore make\nready now to joust with one of us, or both.\"\n\nThereat the knight spake not, but took his shield and buckled it round his\nneck, and leaping on his horse caught a spear from his squire's hand.\n\nThen said Sir Kay Hedius to Sir Tristram, \"Let me assay him.\"\n\n\"Do thy best,\" said he.\n\nSo the two knights met, and Sir Kay Hedius fell sorely wounded in the\nbreast.\n\n\"Thou hast well jousted,\" cried Sir Tristram to the knight; \"now make\nready for me!\"\n\n\"I am ready,\" answered he, and encountered him, and smote him so heavily\nthat he fell down from his horse. Whereat, being ashamed, he put his\nshield before him, and drew his sword, crying to the strange knight to do\nlikewise. Then they fought on foot for well nigh two hours, till they were\nboth weary.\n\nAt last Sir Tristram said, \"In all my life I never met a knight so strong\nand well-breathed as ye be. It were a pity we should further hurt each\nother. Hold thy hand, fair knight, and tell me thy name.\"\n\n\"That will I,\" answered he, \"if thou wilt tell me thine.\"\n\n\"My name,\" said he, \"is Sir Tristram of Lyonesse.\"\n\n\"And mine, Sir Lamoracke of Gaul.\"\n\nThen both cried out together, \"Well met;\" and Sir Lamoracke said, \"Sir,\nfor your great renown, I will that ye have all the worship of this battle,\nand therefore will I yield me unto you.\" And therewith he took his sword\nby the point to yield him.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Sir Tristram, \"ye shall not do so, for well I know ye do it of\ncourtesy, and not of dread.\" And therewith he offered his sword to Sir\nLamoracke, saying, \"Sir, as an overcome knight, I yield me unto you as\nunto the man of noblest powers I have ever met with.\"\n\n\"Hold,\" said Sir Lamoracke, \"let us now swear together nevermore to fight\nagainst each other.\"\n\nThen did they swear as he said.\n\nThen Sir Tristram returned to Sir Kay Hedius, and when he was whole of his\nwounds, they departed together in a ship, and landed on the coast of\nCornwall. And when they came ashore, Sir Tristram eagerly sought news of\nLa Belle Isault. And one told him in mistake that she was dead. Whereat,\nfor sore and grievous sorrow, he fell down in a swoon, and so lay for\nthree days and nights.\n\nWhen he awoke therefrom he was crazed, and ran into the forest and abode\nthere like a wild man many days; whereby he waxed lean and weak of body,\nand would have died, but that a hermit laid some meat beside him as he\nslept. Now in that forest was a giant named Tauleas, who, for fear of\nTristram, had hid himself within a castle, but when they told him he was\nmad, came forth and went at large again. And on a certain day he saw a\nknight of Cornwall, named Sir Dinaunt, pass by with a lady, and when he\nhad alighted by a well to rest, the giant leaped out from his ambush, and\ntook him by the throat to slay him. But Sir Tristram, as he wandered\nthrough the forest, came upon them as they struggled; and when the knight\ncried out for help, he rushed upon the giant, and taking up Sir Dinaunt's\nsword, struck off therewith the giant's head, and straightway disappeared\namong the trees.\n\nAnon, Sir Dinaunt took the head of Tauleas, and bare it with him to the\ncourt of King Mark, whither he was bound, and told of his adventures.\n\"Where had ye this adventure?\" said King Mark.\n\n\"At a fair fountain in thy forest,\" answered he.\n\n\"I would fain see that wild man,\" said the king.\n\nSo within a day or two he commanded his knights to a great hunting in the\nforest. And when the king came to the well, he saw a wild man lying there\nasleep, having a sword beside him; but he knew not that it was Sir\nTristram. Then he blew his horn, and summoned all his knights to take him\ngently up and bear him to the court.\n\nAnd when they came thereto they bathed and washed him, and brought him\nsomewhat to his right mind. Now La Belle Isault knew not that Sir Tristram\nwas in Cornwall; but when she heard that a wild man had been found in the\nforest, she came to see him. And so sorely was he changed, she knew him\nnot. \"Yet,\" said she to Dame Bragwaine, \"in good faith I seem to have\nbeheld him ofttimes before.\"\n\nAs she thus spoke a little hound, which Sir Tristram had given her when\nshe first came to Cornwall, and which was ever with her, saw Sir Tristram\nlying there, and leapt upon him, licking his hands and face, and whined\nand barked for joy.\n\n\"Alas,\" cried out La Belle Isault, \"it is my own true knight, Sir\nTristram.\"\n\nAnd at her voice Sir Tristram's senses wholly came again, and wellnigh he\nwept for joy to see his lady living.\n\nBut never would the hound depart from Tristram; and when King Mark and\nother knights came up to see him, it sat upon his body and bayed at all\nwho came too near. Then one of the knights said, \"Surely this is Sir\nTristram; I see it by the hound.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the king, \"it cannot be,\" and asked Sir Tristram on his faith\nwho he was.\n\n\"My name,\" said he, \"is Sir Tristram of Lyonesse, and now ye may do what\nye list with me.\"\n\nThen the king said, \"It repents me that ye are recovered,\" and sought to\nmake his barons slay him. But most of them would not assent thereto, and\ncounselled him instead to banish Tristram for ten years again from\nCornwall, for returning without orders from the king. So he was sworn to\ndepart forthwith.\n\nAnd as he went towards the ship a knight of King Arthur, named Sir\nDinadan, who sought him, came and said, \"Fair knight, ere that you pass\nout of this country, I pray you joust with me!\"\n\n\"With a good will,\" said he.\n\nThen they ran together, and Sir Tristram lightly smote him from his horse.\nAnon he prayed Sir Tristram's leave to bear him company, and when he had\nconsented they rode together to the ship.\n\nThen was Sir Tristram full of bitterness of heart, and said to all the\nknights who took him to the shore, \"Greet well King Mark and all mine\nenemies from me, and tell them I will come again when I may. Well am I now\nrewarded for slaying Sir Marhaus, and delivering this kingdom from its\nbondage, and for the perils wherewithal I brought La Belle Isault from\nIreland to the king, and rescued her at the Castle Pluere, and for the\nslaying of the giant Tauleas, and all the other deeds that I have done for\nCornwall and King Mark.\" Thus angrily and passing bitterly he spake, and\nwent his way.\n\nAnd after sailing awhile the ship stayed at a landing-place upon the coast\nof Wales; and there Sir Tristram and Sir Dinadan alighted, and on the\nshore they met two knights, Sir Ector and Sir Bors. And Sir Ector\nencountered with Sir Dinadan and smote him to the ground; but Sir Bors\nwould not encounter with Sir Tristram, \"For,\" said he, \"no Cornish knights\nare men of worship.\" Thereat Sir Tristram was full wroth, but presently\nthere met them two more knights, Sir Bleoberis and Sir Driant; and Sir\nBleoberis proffered to joust with Sir Tristram, who shortly smote him\ndown.\n\n\"I had not thought,\" cried out Sir Bors, \"that any Cornish knight could do\nso valiantly.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram and Sir Dinadan departed, and rode into a forest, and as\nthey rode a damsel met them, who for Sir Lancelot's sake was seeking any\nnoble knights to rescue him. For Queen Morgan le Fay, who hated him, had\nordered thirty men-at-arms to lie in ambush for him as he passed, with the\nintent to kill him. So the damsel prayed them to rescue him.\n\nThen said Sir Tristram, \"Bring me to that place, fair damsel.\"\n\nBut Sir Dinadan cried out, \"It is not possible for us to meet with thirty\nknights! I will take no part in such a hardihood, for to match one or two\nor three knights is enough; but to match fifteen I will never assay.\"\n\n\"For shame,\" replied Sir Tristram, \"do but your part.\"\n\n\"That will I not,\" said he; \"wherefore, I pray ye, lend me your shield,\nfor it is of Cornwall, and because men of that country are deemed cowards,\nye are but little troubled as ye ride with knights to joust with.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I will never give my shield up for her sake who\ngave it me; but if thou wilt not stand by me to-day I will surely slay\nthee; for I ask no more of thee than to fight one knight, and if thy heart\nwill not serve thee that much, thou shalt stand by and look on me and\nthem.\"\n\n\"Would God that I had never met with ye!\" cried Sir Dinadan; \"but I\npromise to look on and do all that I may to save myself.\"\n\nAnon they came to where the thirty knights lay waiting, and Sir Tristram\nrushed upon them, saying, \"Here is one who fights for love of Lancelot!\"\nThen slew he two of them at the first onset with his spear, and ten more\nswiftly after with his sword. At that Sir Dinadan took courage, and\nassailed the others with him, till they turned and fled.\n\nBut Sir Tristram and Sir Dinadan rode on till nightfall, and meeting with\na shepherd, asked him if he knew of any lodging thereabouts.\n\n\"Truly, fair lords,\" said he, \"there is good lodging in a castle hard by,\nbut it is a custom there that none shall lodge therein save ye first joust\nwith two knights, and as soon as ye be within, ye shall find your match.\"\n\n\"That is an evil lodging,\" said Sir Dinadan; \"lodge where ye will, I will\nnot lodge there.\"\n\n\"Shame on thee!\" said Sir Tristram; \"art thou a knight at all?\"\n\nThen he required him on his knighthood to go with him, and they rode\ntogether to the castle. As soon as they were near, two knights came out\nand ran full speed against them; but both of them they overthrew, and went\nwithin the castle, and had noble cheer. Now, when they were unarmed and\nready to take rest, there came to the castle-gate two knights, Sir\nPalomedes and Sir Gaheris, and desired the custom of the castle.\n\n\"I would far rather rest than fight,\" said Sir Dinadan.\n\n\"That may not be,\" replied Sir Tristram, \"for we must needs defend the\ncustom of the castle, seeing we have overcome its lords; therefore, make\nready.\"\n\n\"Alas that I ever came into your company,\" said Sir Dinadan.\n\nSo they made ready, and Sir Gaheris encountered Sir Tristram and fell\nbefore him; but Sir Palomedes overthrew Sir Dinadan. Then would all fight\non foot save Sir Dinadan, for he was sorely bruised and frighted by his\nfall. And when Sir Tristram prayed him to fight, \"I will not,\" answered\nhe, \"for I was wounded by those thirty knights with whom we fought this\nmorning; and as to you, ye are in truth like one gone mad, and who would\ncast himself away! There be but two knights in the world so mad, and the\nother is Sir Lancelot, with whom I once rode forth, who kept me evermore\nat battling so that for a quarter of a year thereafter I lay in my bed.\nHeaven defend me again from either of your fellowships!\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"if it must be, I will fight them both.\"\n\nTherewith he drew his sword and assailed Sir Palomedes and Sir Gaheris\ntogether; but Sir Palomedes said, \"Nay, but it is a shame for two to fight\nwith one.\" So he bade Sir Gaheris stand by, and he and Sir Tristram fought\nlong together; but in the end Sir Tristram drave him backward, whereat Sir\nGaheris and Sir Dinadan with one accord sundered them. Then Sir Tristram\nprayed the two knights to lodge there; but Sir Dinadan departed and rode\naway into a priory hard by, and there he lodged that night.\n\nAnd on the morrow came Sir Tristram to the priory to find him, and seeing\nhim so weary that he could not ride, he left him, and departed. At that\nsame priory was lodged Sir Pellinore, who asked Sir Dinadan Sir Tristram's\nname, but could not learn it, for Sir Tristram had charged that he should\nremain unknown. Then said Sir Pellinore, \"Since ye will not tell it me, I\nwill ride after him and find it myself.\"\n\n\"Beware, Sir knight,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"ye will repent it if ye follow\nhim.\"\n\nBut Sir Pellinore straightway mounted and overtook him, and cried to him\nto joust; whereat Sir Tristram forthwith turned and smote him down, and\nwounded him full sorely in the shoulder.\n\nOn the day after, Sir Tristram met a herald, who told him of a tournament\nproclaimed between King Carados of Scotland, and the King of North Wales,\nto be held at the Maiden's Castle. Now King Carados sought Sir Lancelot to\nfight there on his side, and the King of North Wales sought Sir Tristram.\nAnd Sir Tristram purposed to be there. So as he rode, he met Sir Key, the\nseneschal, and Sir Sagramour, and Sir Key proffered to joust with him. But\nhe refused, desiring to keep himself unwearied for the tourney. Then Sir\nKey cried, \"Sir knight of Cornwall, joust with me, or yield as recreant.\"\nWhen Sir Tristram heard that, he fiercely turned and set his spear in\nrest, and spurred his horse towards him. But when Sir Key saw him so madly\ncoming on, he in his turn refused, whereat Sir Tristram called him coward,\ntill for shame he was compelled to meet him. Then Sir Tristram lightly\nsmote him down, and rode away. But Sir Sagramour pursued him, crying\nloudly to joust with him also. So Sir Tristram turned and quickly\noverthrew him likewise, and departed.\n\nAnon a damsel met him as he rode, and told him of a knight adventurous who\ndid great harm thereby, and prayed him for his help. But as he went with\nher he met Sir Gawain, who knew the damsel for a maiden of Queen Morgan le\nFay. Knowing, therefore, that she needs must have evil plots against Sir\nTristram, Sir Gawain demanded of him courteously whither he went.\n\n\"I know not whither,\" said he, \"save as this damsel leadeth me.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Gawain, \"ye shall not ride with her, for she and her lady\nnever yet did good to any;\" and, drawing his sword, he said to the\ndamsel, \"Tell me now straightway for what cause thou leadest this knight\nor else shalt thou die; for I know of old thy lady's treason.\"\n\n\"Mercy, Sir Gawain,\" cried the damsel, \"and I will tell thee all.\" Then\nshe told him that Queen Morgan had ordained thirty fair damsels to seek\nout Sir Lancelot and Sir Tristram, and by their wiles persuade them to her\ncastle, where she had thirty knights in wait to slay them.\n\n\"Oh shame!\" cried Sir Gawain, \"that ever such foul treason should be\nwrought by a queen, and a king's sister.\" Then said he to Sir Tristram,\n\"Sir knight, if ye will stand with me, we will together prove the malice\nof these thirty knights.\"\n\n\"I will not fail you,\" answered he, \"for but few days since I had to do\nwith thirty knights of that same queen, and trust we may win honour as\nlightly now as then.\"\n\nSo they rode together, and when they came to the castle, Sir Gawain cried\naloud, \"Queen Morgan le Fay, send out thy knights that we may fight with\nthem.\"\n\nThen the queen urged her knights to issue forth, but they durst not, for\nthey well knew Sir Tristram, and feared him greatly.\n\nSo Sir Tristram and Sir Gawain went on their way, and as they rode they\nsaw a knight, named Sir Brewse-without-pity, chasing a lady, with intent\nto slay her. Then Sir Gawain prayed Sir Tristram to hold still and let him\nassail that knight. So he rode up between Sir Brewse and the lady, and\ncried, \"False knight, turn thee to me and leave that lady.\" Then Sir\nBrewse turned and set his spear in rest, and rushed against Sir Gawain\nand overthrew him, and rode his horse upon him as he lay, which when Sir\nTristram saw, he cried, \"Forbear that villainy,\" and galloped at him. But\nwhen Sir Brewse saw by the shield it was Sir Tristram, he turned and fled.\nAnd though Sir Tristram followed swiftly after him, yet he was so well\nhorsed that he escaped.\n\nAnon Sir Tristram and Sir Gawain came nigh the Maiden's Castle, and there\nan old knight named Sir Pellonnes gave them lodging. And Sir Persides, the\nson of Sir Pellonnes, a good knight, came out to welcome them. And, as\nthey stood talking at a bay window of the castle, they saw a goodly knight\nride by on a black horse, and carrying a black shield. \"What knight is\nthat?\" asked Tristram.\n\n\"One of the best knights in all the world,\" said Sir Persides.\n\n\"Is he Sir Lancelot?\" said Sir Tristram.\n\n\"Nay,\" answered Sir Persides, \"it is Sir Palomedes, who is yet\nunchristened.\"\n\nWithin a while one came and told them that a knight with a black shield\nhad smitten down thirteen knights. \"Let us go and see this jousting,\" said\nSir Tristram. So they armed themselves and went down. And when Sir\nPalomedes saw Sir Persides, he sent a squire to him and proffered him to\njoust. So they jousted, and Sir Persides was overthrown. Then Sir Tristram\nmade ready to joust, but ere he had his spear in rest, Sir Palomedes took\nhim at advantage, and struck him on the shield so that he fell. At that\nSir Tristram was wroth out of measure and sore ashamed, wherefore he sent\na squire and prayed Sir Palomedes to joust once again. But he would not,\nsaying, \"Tell thy master to revenge himself to-morrow at the Maiden's\nCastle, where he shall see me again.\"\n\nSo on the morrow Sir Tristram commanded his servant to give him a black\nshield with no cognizance thereon, and he and Sir Persides rode into the\ntournament and joined King Carados' side.\n\nThen the knights of the King of North Wales came forth, and there was a\ngreat fighting and breaking of spears, and overthrow of men and horses.\n\nNow King Arthur sat above in a high gallery to see the tourney and give\nthe judgment, and Sir Lancelot sat beside him. Then came against Sir\nTristram and Sir Persides, two knights with them of North Wales, Sir\nBleoberis and Sir Gaheris; and Sir Persides was smitten down and nigh\nslain, for four horsemen rode over him. But Sir Tristram rode against Sir\nGaheris and smote him from his horse, and when Sir Bleoberis next\nencountered him, he overthrew him also. Anon they horsed themselves again,\nand with them came Sir Dinadan, whom Sir Tristram forthwith smote so\nsorely, that he reeled off his saddle. Then cried he, \"Ah! Sir knight, I\nknow ye better than ye deem, and promise nevermore to come against ye.\"\nThen rode Sir Bleoberis at him the second time, and had a buffet that\nfelled him to the earth. And soon thereafter the king commanded to cease\nfor that day, and all men marvelled who Sir Tristram was, for the prize of\nthe first day was given him in the name of the Knight of the Black Shield.\n\nNow Sir Palomedes was on the side of the King of North Wales, but knew not\nSir Tristram again. And, when he saw his marvellous deeds, he sent to ask\nhis name. \"As to that,\" said Sir Tristram, \"he shall not know at this\ntime, but tell him he shall know when I have broken two spears upon him,\nfor I am the knight he smote down yesterday, and whatever side he taketh,\nI will take the other.\"\n\nSo when they told him that Sir Palomedes would be on King Carados'\nside--for he was kindred to King Arthur--\"Then will I be on the King of\nNorth Wales' side,\" said he, \"but else would I be on my lord King\nArthur's.\"\n\nThen on the morrow, when King Arthur was come, the heralds blew unto the\ntourney. And King Carados jousted with the King of a Hundred Knights and\nfell before him, and then came in King Arthur's knights and bare back\nthose of North Wales. But anon Sir Tristram came to aid them and bare back\nthe battle, and fought so mightily that none could stand against him, for\nhe smote down on the right and on the left, so that all the knights and\ncommon people shouted his praise.\n\n\"Since I bare arms,\" said King Arthur, \"never saw I a knight do more\nmarvellous deeds.\"\n\nThen the King of the Hundred Knights and those of North Wales, set upon\ntwenty knights who were of Sir Lancelot's kin, who fought all together,\nnone failing the others. When Sir Tristram beheld their nobleness and\nvalour, he marvelled much. \"Well may he be valiant and full of prowess,\"\nsaid he, \"who hath such noble knights for kindred.\" So, when he had looked\non them awhile, he thought it shame to see two hundred men assailing\ntwenty, and riding to the King of a Hundred Knights, he said, \"I pray\nthee, Sir king, leave your fighting with those twenty knights, for ye be\ntoo many and they be too few. For ye shall gain no honour if ye win, and\nthat I see verily ye will not do unless ye slay them; but if ye will not\nstay, I will ride with them and help them.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the king, \"ye shall not do so; for full gladly I will do you\ncourtesy,\" and with that he withdrew his knights.\n\nThen Sir Tristram rode his way into the forest, that no man might know\nhim. And King Arthur caused the heralds to blow that the tourney should\nend that day, and he gave the King of North Wales the prize, because Sir\nTristram was on his side. And in all the field there was such a cry that\nthe sound thereof was heard two miles away--\"The knight with the black\nshield hath won the field.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said King Arthur, \"where is that knight? it is shame to let him\nthus escape us.\" Then he comforted his knights, and said, \"Be not\ndismayed, my friends, howbeit ye have lost the day; be of good cheer;\nto-morrow I myself will be in the field, and fare with you.\" So they all\nrested that night.\n\nAnd on the morrow the heralds blew unto the field. So the King of North\nWales and the King of a Hundred Knights encountered with King Carados and\nthe King of Ireland, and overthrew them. With that came King Arthur, and\ndid mighty deeds of arms, and overthrew the King of North Wales and his\nfellows, and put twenty valiant knights to the worse. Anon came in Sir\nPalomedes, and made great fight upon King Arthur's side. But Sir Tristram\nrode furiously against him, and Sir Palomedes was thrown from his horse.\nThen cried King Arthur, \"Knight of the Black Shield, keep thyself.\" And as\nhe spake he came upon him, and smote him from his saddle to the ground,\nand so passed on to other knights. Then Sir Palomedes having now another\nhorse rushed at Sir Tristram, as he was on foot, thinking to run over him.\nBut he was aware of him, and stepped aside, and grasped Sir Palomedes by\nthe arms, and pulled him off his horse. Then they rushed together with\ntheir swords, and many stood still to gaze on them. And Sir Tristram smote\nSir Palomedes with three mighty strokes upon the helm, crying at each\nstroke, \"Take this for Sir Tristram's sake,\" and with that Sir Palomedes\nfell to the earth.\n\nAnon the King of North Wales brought Sir Tristram another horse, and Sir\nPalomedes found one also. Then did they joust again with passing rage, for\nboth by now were like mad lions. But Sir Tristram avoided his spear, and\nseized Sir Palomedes by the neck, and pulled him from his saddle, and bore\nhim onward ten spears' length, and so let him fall. Then King Arthur drew\nforth his sword and smote the spear asunder, and gave Sir Tristram two or\nthree sore strokes ere he could get at his own sword. But when he had it\nin his hand he mightily assailed the king. With that eleven knights of\nLancelot's kin went forth against him, but he smote them all down to the\nearth, so that men marvelled at his deeds.\n\nAnd the cry was now so great that Sir Lancelot got a spear in his hand,\nand came down to assay Sir Tristram, saying, \"Knight with the black\nshield, make ready.\" When Sir Tristram heard him he levelled his spear,\nand both stooping their heads, they ran together mightily, as it had been\nthunder. And Sir Tristram's spear brake short, but Sir Lancelot struck him\nwith a deep wound in the side and broke his spear, yet overthrew him not.\nTherewith Sir Tristram, smarting at his wound, drew forth his sword, and\nrushing at Sir Lancelot, gave him mighty strokes upon the helm, so that\nthe sparks flew from it, and Sir Lancelot stooped his head down to the\nsaddle-bow. But then Sir Tristram turned and left the field, for he felt\nhis wound so grievous that he deemed he should soon die. Then did Sir\nLancelot hold the field against all comers, and put the King of North\nWales and his party to the worse. And because he was the last knight in\nthe field the prize was given him.\n\nBut he refused to take it, and when the cry was raised, \"Sir Lancelot hath\nwon the day,\" he cried out, \"Nay, but Sir Tristram is the victor, for he\nfirst began and last endured, and so hath he done each day.\" And all men\nhonoured Lancelot more for his knightly words than if he had taken the\nprize.\n\nThus was the tournament ended, and King Arthur departed to Caerleon, for\nthe Whitsun feast was now nigh come, and all the knights adventurous went\ntheir ways. And many sought Sir Tristram in the forest whither he had\ngone, and at last Sir Lancelot found him, and brought him to King Arthur's\ncourt, as hath been told already.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\n_The Quest of the Sangreal, and the Adventures of Sir Percival, Sir Bors,\nand Sir Galahad_\n\n\nAfter these things, Merlin fell into a dotage of love for a damsel of the\nLady of the Lake, and would let her have no rest, but followed her in\nevery place. And ever she encouraged him, and made him welcome till she\nhad learned all his crafts that she desired to know.\n\nThen upon a time she went with him beyond the sea to the land of Benwicke,\nand as they went he showed her many wonders, till at length she was\nafraid, and would fain have been delivered from him.\n\nAnd as they were in the forest of Broceliande, they sat together under an\noak-tree, and the damsel prayed to see all that charm whereby men might be\nshut up yet alive in rocks or trees. But he refused her a long time,\nfearing to let her know, yet in the end, her prayers and kisses overcame\nhim, and he told her all. Then did she make him great cheer, but anon, as\nhe lay down to sleep, she softly rose, and walked about him waving her\nhands and muttering the charm, and presently enclosed him fast within the\ntree whereby he slept. And therefrom nevermore he could by any means come\nout for all the crafts that he could do. And so she departed and left\nMerlin.\n\n[Illustration: Waving her hands and muttering the charm, and presently\nenclosed him fast within the tree.]\n\nAt the vigil of the next Feast of Pentecost, when all the Knights of the\nRound Table were met together at Camelot, and had heard mass, and were\nabout to sit down to meat, there rode into the hall a fair lady on\nhorseback, who went straight up to King Arthur where he sat upon his\nthrone, and reverently saluted him.\n\n\"God be with thee, fair damsel,\" quoth the king; \"what desirest thou of\nme?\"\n\n\"I pray thee tell me, lord,\" she answered, \"where Sir Lancelot is.\"\n\n\"Yonder may ye see him,\" said King Arthur.\n\nThen went she to Sir Lancelot and said, \"Sir, I salute thee in King\nPelles' name, and require thee to come with me into the forest hereby.\"\n\nThen asked he her with whom she dwelt, and what she wished of him.\n\n\"I dwell with King Pelles,\" said she, \"whom Balin erst so sorely wounded\nwhen he smote the dolorous stroke. It is he who hath sent me to call\nthee.\"\n\n\"I will go with thee gladly,\" said Sir Lancelot, and bade his squire\nstraightway saddle his horse and bring his armour.\n\nThen came the queen to him and said, \"Sir Lancelot, will ye leave me thus\nat this high feast?\"\n\n\"Madam,\" replied the damsel, \"by dinner-time to-morrow he shall be with\nyou.\"\n\n\"If I thought not,\" said the queen, \"he should not go with thee by my\ngoodwill.\"\n\nThen Sir Lancelot and the lady rode forth till they came to the forest,\nand in a valley thereof found an abbey of nuns, whereby a squire stood\nready to open the gates. When they had entered, and descended from their\nhorses, a joyful crowd pressed round Sir Lancelot and heartily saluted\nhim, and led him to the abbess's chamber, and unarmed him. Anon he saw his\ncousins likewise there, Sir Bors and Sir Lionel, who also made great joy\nat seeing him, and said, \"By what adventure art thou here, for we thought\nto have seen thee at Camelot to-morrow?\"\n\n\"A damsel brought me here,\" said he, \"but as yet I know not for what\nservice.\"\n\nAs they thus talked twelve nuns came in, who brought with them a youth so\npassing fair and well made, that in all the world his match could not be\nfound. His name was Galahad, and though he knew him not, nor Lancelot him,\nSir Lancelot was his father.\n\n\"Sir,\" said the nuns, \"we bring thee here this child whom we have\nnourished from his youth, and pray thee to make him a knight, for from no\nworthier hand can he receive that order.\"\n\nThen Sir Lancelot, looking on the youth, saw that he was seemly and demure\nas a dove, with every feature good and noble, and thought he never had\nbeheld a better fashioned man of his years. \"Cometh this desire from\nhimself?\" said he.\n\n\"Yea,\" answered Galahad and all the nuns.\n\n\"To-morrow, then, in reverence for the feast, he shall have his wish,\"\nsaid Sir Lancelot.\n\nAnd the next day at the hour of prime, he knighted him, and said, \"God\nmake of thee as good a man as He hath made thee beautiful.\"\n\nThen with Sir Lionel and Sir Bors he returned to the court, and found all\ngone to the minster to hear service. When they came into the banquet-hall\neach knight and baron found his name written in some seat in letters of\ngold, as \"here ought to sit Sir Lionel,\" \"here ought to sit Sir\nGawain,\"--and so forth. And in the Perilous Seat, at the high centre of\nthe table, a name was also written, whereat they marvelled greatly, for no\nliving man had ever yet dared sit upon that seat, save one, and him a\nflame leaped forth and drew down under earth, so that he was no more seen.\n\nThen came Sir Lancelot and read the letters in that seat, and said, \"My\ncounsel is that this inscription be now covered up until the knight be\ncome who shall achieve this great adventure.\" So they made a veil of silk\nand put it over the letters.\n\nIn the meanwhile came Sir Gawain to the court and told the king he had a\nmessage to him from beyond the sea, from Merlin.\n\n\"For,\" said he, \"as I rode through the forest of Broceliande but five days\nsince, I heard the voice of Merlin speaking to me from the midst of an\noak-tree, whereat, in great amazement, I besought him to come forth. But\nhe, with many groans, replied he never more might do so, for that none\ncould free him, save the damsel of the Lake, who had enclosed him there by\nhis own spells which he had taught her. 'But go,' said he, 'to King\nArthur, and tell him, that he now prepare his knights and all his Table\nRound to seek the Sangreal, for the time is come when it shall be\nachieved.'\"\n\nWhen Sir Gawain had spoken thus, King Arthur sat pensive in spirit, and\nmused deeply of the Holy Grale an what saintly knight should come who\nmight achieve it.\n\nAnon he bade them hasten to set on the banquet. \"Sir,\" said Sir Key, the\nseneschal, \"if ye go now to meat ye will break the ancient custom of your\ncourt, for never have ye dined at this high feast till ye have seen some\nstrange adventure.\"\n\n\"Thou sayest truly,\" said the king, \"but my mind was full of wonders and\nmusings, till I bethought me not of mine old custom.\"\n\nAs they stood speaking thus, a squire ran in and cried, \"Lord, I bring\nthee marvellous tidings.\"\n\n\"What be they?\" said King Arthur.\n\n\"Lord,\" said he, \"hereby at the river is a marvellous great stone, which I\nmyself saw swim down hitherwards upon the water, and in it there is set a\nsword, and ever the stone heaveth and swayeth on the water, but floateth\ndown no further with the stream.\"\n\n\"I will go and see it,\" said the king. So all the knights went with him,\nand when they came to the river, there surely found they a mighty stone of\nred marble floating on the water, as the squire had said, and therein\nstuck a fair and rich sword, on the pommel whereof were precious stones\nwrought skilfully with gold into these words: \"No man shall take me hence\nbut he by whose side I should hang, and he shall be the best knight in the\nworld.\"\n\nWhen the king read this, he turned round to Sir Lancelot, and said, \"Fair\nsir, this sword ought surely to be thine, for thou art the best knight in\nall the world.\"\n\nBut Lancelot answered soberly, \"Certainly, sir, it is not for me; nor will\nI have the hardihood to set my hand upon it. For he that toucheth it and\nfaileth to achieve it shall one day be wounded by it mortally. But I doubt\nnot, lord, this day will show the greatest marvels that we yet have seen,\nfor now the time is fully come, as Merlin hath forewarned us, when all the\nprophecies about the Sangreal shall be fulfilled.\"\n\nThen stepped Sir Gawain forward and pulled at the sword, but could not\nmove it, and after him Sir Percival, to keep him fellowship in any peril\nhe might suffer. But no other knight durst be so hardy as to try.\n\n\"Now may ye go to your dinner,\" said Sir Key, \"for a marvellous adventure\nye have had.\"\n\nSo all returned from the river, and every knight sat down in his own\nplace, and the high feast and banquet then was sumptuously begun, and all\nthe hall was full of laughter and loud talk and jests, and running to and\nfro of squires who served their knights, and noise of jollity and mirth.\n\nThen suddenly befell a wondrous thing, for all the doors and windows of\nthe hall shut violently of themselves, and made thick darkness; and\npresently there came a fair and gentle light from out the Perilous Seat,\nand filled the palace with its beams. Then a dead silence fell on all the\nknights, and each man anxiously beheld his neighbour.\n\nBut King Arthur rose and said, \"Lords and fair knights, have ye no fear,\nbut rejoice; we have seen strange things to-day, but stranger yet remain.\nFor now I know we shall to-day see him who may sit in the Siege Perilous,\nand shall achieve the Sangreal. For as ye all well know, that holy vessel,\nwherefrom at the Supper of our Lord before His death He drank the wine\nwith His disciples, hath been held ever since the holiest treasure of the\nworld, and wheresoever it hath rested peace and prosperity have rested\nwith it on the land. But since the dolorous stroke which Balin gave King\nPelles none have seen it, for Heaven, wroth with that presumptuous blow,\nhath hid it none know where. Yet somewhere in the world it still may be,\nand may be it is left to us, and to this noble order of the Table Round,\nto find and bring it home, and make of this our realm the happiest in the\nearth. Many great quests and perilous adventures have ye all taken and\nachieved, but this high quest he only shall attain who hath clean hands\nand a pure heart, and valour and hardihood beyond all othermen.\"\n\nWhile the king spoke there came in softly an old man robed all in white,\nleading with him a young knight clad in red from top to toe, but without\narmour or shield, and having by his side an empty scabbard.\n\nThe old man went up to the king, and said, \"Lord, here I bring thee this\nyoung knight of royal lineage, and of the blood of Joseph of Arimathea, by\nwhom the marvels of thy court shall fully be accomplished.\"\n\nThe king was right glad at his words, and said, \"Sir, ye be right heartily\nwelcome, and the young knight also.\"\n\nThen the old man put on Sir Galahad (for it was he) a crimson robe trimmed\nwith fine ermine, and took him by the hand and led him to the Perilous\nSeat, and lifting up the silken cloth which hung upon it, read these words\nwritten in gold letters, \"This is the seat of Sir Galahad, the good\nknight.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the old man, \"this place is thine.\"\n\nThen sat Sir Galahad down firmly and surely, and said to the old man,\n\"Sir, ye may now go your way, for ye have done well and truly all ye were\ncommanded, and commend me to my grandsire, King Pelles, and say that I\nshall see him soon.\" So the old man departed with a retinue of twenty\nnoble squires.\n\nBut all the knights of the Round Table marvelled at Sir Galahad, and at\nhis tender age, and at his sitting there so surely in the Perilous Seat.\n\nThen the king led Sir Galahad forth from the palace, to show him the\nadventure of the floating stone. \"Here\" said he, \"is as great a marvel as\nI ever saw, and right good knights have tried and failed to gain that\nsword.\"\n\n\"I marvel not thereat,\" said Galahad, \"for this adventure is not theirs,\nbut mine; and for the certainty I had thereof, I brought no sword with me,\nas thou mayst see here by this empty scabbard.\"\n\nAnon he laid his hand upon the sword, and lightly drew it from the stone,\nand put it in his sheath, and said, \"This sword was that enchanted one\nwhich erst belonged to the good knight, Sir Balin, wherewith he slew\nthrough piteous mistake his brother Balan; who also slew him at the same\ntime: all which great woe befell him through the dolorous stroke he gave\nmy grandsire, King Pelles, the wound whereof is not yet whole, nor shall\nbe till I heal him.\"\n\nAs he stood speaking thus, they saw a lady riding swiftly down the river's\nbank towards them, on a white palfrey; who, saluting the king and queen,\nsaid, \"Lord king, Nacien the hermit sendeth thee word that to thee shall\ncome to-day the greatest honour and worship that hath yet ever befallen a\nking of Britain; for this day shall the Sangreal appear in thy house.\"\n\nWith that the damsel took her leave, and departed the same way she came.\n\n\"Now,\" said the king, \"I know that from to-day the quest of the Sangreal\nshall begin, and all ye of the Round Table will be scattered so that\nnevermore shall I see ye again together as ye are now; let me then see a\njoust and tournament amongst ye for the last time before ye go.\"\n\nSo they all took their harness and met together in the meadows by Camelot,\nand the queen and all her ladies sat in a tower to see.\n\nThen Sir Galahad, at the prayer of the king and queen, put on a coat of\nlight armour, and a helmet, but shield he would take none, and grasping a\nlance, he drove into the middle of the press of knights, and began to\nbreak spears marvellously, so that all men were full of wonder. And in so\nshort a time he had surmounted and exceeded the rest, save Sir Lancelot\nand Sir Percival, that he took the chief worship of the field.\n\nThen the king and all the court and fellowship of knights went back to the\npalace, and so to evensong in the great minster, a royal and goodly\ncompany, and after that sat down to supper in the hall, every knight in\nhis own seat, as they had been before.\n\nAnon suddenly burst overhead the cracking and crying of great peals of\nthunder, till the palace walls were shaken sorely, and they thought to see\nthem riven all to pieces.\n\nAnd in the midst of the blast there entered in a sunbeam, clearer by seven\ntimes than ever they saw day, and a marvellous great glory fell upon them\nall. Then each knight, looking on his neighbour, found his face fairer\nthan he had ever seen, and so--all standing on their feet--they gazed as\ndumb men on each other, not knowing what to say.\n\nThen entered into the hall the Sangreal, borne aloft without hands through\nthe midst of the sunbeam, and covered with white samite, so that none\nmight see it. And all the hall was filled with perfume and incense, and\nevery knight was fed with the food he best loved. And when the holy vessel\nhad been thus borne through the hall, it suddenly departed, no man saw\nwhither.\n\nWhen they recovered breath to speak, King Arthur first rose up, and\nyielded thanks to God and to our Lord.\n\nThen Sir Gawain sprang up and said, \"Now have we all been fed by miracle\nwith whatsoever food we thought of or desired; but with our eyes we have\nnot seen the blessed vessel whence it came, so carefully and preciously it\nwas concealed. Therefore, I make a vow, that from to-morrow I shall labour\ntwelve months and a day in quest of the Sangreal, and longer if need be;\nnor will I come again into this court until mine eyes have seen it\nevidently.\"\n\nWhen he had spoken thus, knight after knight rose up and vowed himself to\nthe same quest, till the most part of the Round Table had thus sworn.\n\nBut when King Arthur heard them all, he could not refrain his eyes from\ntears, and said, \"Sir Gawain, Sir Gawain, thou hast set me in great\nsorrow, for I fear me my true fellowship shall never meet together here\nagain; and surely never Christian king had such a company of worthy\nknights around his table at one time.\"\n\nAnd when the queen and her ladies and gentlewomen heard the vows, they had\nsuch grief and sorrow as no tongue could tell; and Queen Guinevere cried\nout, \"I marvel that my lord will suffer them to depart from him.\" And many\nof the ladies who loved knights would have gone with them, but were\nforbidden by the hermit Nacien, who sent this message to all who had sworn\nthemselves to the quest: \"Take with ye no lady nor gentlewoman, for into\nso high a service as ye go in, no thought but of our Lord and heaven may\nenter.\"\n\nOn the morrow morning all the knights rose early, and when they were fully\narmed, save shields and helms, they went in with the king and queen to\nservice in the minster. Then the king counted all who had taken the\nadventure on themselves, and found them a hundred and fifty knights of the\nRound Table; and so they all put on their helms, and rode away together in\nthe midst of cries and lamentations from the court, and from the ladies,\nand from all the town.\n\nBut the queen went alone to her chamber, that no man might see her sorrow;\nand Sir Lancelot followed her to say farewell.\n\nWhen she saw him she cried out, \"Oh, Sir Lancelot, thou hast betrayed me;\nthou hast put me to death thus to depart and leave my lord the king.\"\n\n\"Ah, madam,\" said he, \"be not displeased or angry, for I shall come again\nas soon as I can with honour.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said she, \"that ever I saw thee; but He that suffered death upon\nthe cross for all mankind be to thee safety and good conduct, and to all\nthy company.\"\n\nThen Sir Lancelot saluted her and the king, and went forth with the rest,\nand came with them that night to Castle Vagon, where they abode, and on\nthe morrow they departed from each other on their separate ways, every\nknight taking the way that pleased him best.\n\nNow Sir Galahad went forth without a shield, and rode so four days without\nadventure; and on the fourth day, after evensong, he came to an abbey of\nwhite monks, where he was received in the house, and led into a chamber.\nAnd there he was unarmed, and met two knights of the Round Table, King\nBagdemagus, and Sir Uwaine.\n\n\"Sirs,\" said Sir Galahad, \"what adventure hath brought ye here?\"\n\n\"Within this place, as we are told,\" they answered, \"there is a shield no\nman may bear around his neck without receiving sore mischance, or death\nwithin three days.\"\n\n\"To-morrow,\" said King Bagdemagus, \"I shall attempt the adventure; and if\nI fail, do thou, Sir Galahad, take it up after me.\"\n\n\"I will willingly,\" said he; \"for as ye see I have no shield as yet.\"\n\nSo on the morrow they arose and heard mass, and afterwards King Bagdemagus\nasked where the shield was kept. Then a monk led him behind the altar,\nwhere the shield hung, as white as any snow, and with a blood-red cross in\nthe midst of it.\n\n\"Sir,\" said the monk, \"this shield should hang from no knight's neck\nunless he be the worthiest in the world. I warn ye, therefore, knights;\nconsider well before ye dare to touch it.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said King Bagdemagus, \"I know well that I am far from the best\nknight in all the world, yet shall I make the trial;\" and so he took the\nshield, and bore it from the monastery.\n\n\"If it please thee,\" said he to Sir Galahad, \"abide here till thou hearest\nhow I speed.\"\n\n\"I will abide thee,\" said he.\n\nThen taking with him a squire who might return with any tidings to Sir\nGalahad, the king rode forth; and before he had gone two miles, he saw in\na fair valley a hermitage, and a knight who came forth dressed in white\narmour, horse and all, who rode fast against him. When they encountered,\nBagdemagus brake his spear upon the White Knight's shield, but was himself\nstruck through the shoulder with a sore wound, and hurled down from his\nhorse. Then the White Knight alighting, came and took the white shield\nfrom the king, and said, \"Thou hast done great folly, for this shield\nought never to be borne but by one who hath no living peer.\" And turning\nto the squire, he said, \"Bear thou this shield to the good knight, Sir\nGalahad, and greet him well from me.\"\n\n\"In whose name shall I greet him?\" said the squire.\n\n\"Take thou no heed of that,\" he answered; \"it is not for thee or any\nearthly man to know.\"\n\n\"Now tell me, fair sir, at the least,\" said the squire, \"why may this\nshield be never borne except its wearer come to injury or death?\"\n\n\"Because it shall belong to no man save its rightful owner, Galahad,\"\nreplied the knight.\n\nThen the squire went to his master, and found him wounded nigh to death,\nwherefore he fetched his horse, and bore him back with him to the abbey.\nAnd there they laid him in a bed, and looked to his wounds; and when he\nhad lain many days grievously sick, he at the last barely escaped with his\nlife.\n\n\"Sir Galahad,\" said the squire, \"the knight who overthrew King Bagdemagus\nsent you greeting, and bade you bear this shield.\"\n\n\"Now blessed be God and fortune,\" said Sir Galahad, and hung the shield\nabout his neck, and armed him, and rode forth.\n\nAnon he met the White Knight by the hermitage, and each saluted\ncourteously the other.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Galahad, \"this shield I bear hath surely a full marvellous\nhistory.\"\n\n\"Thou sayest rightly,\" answered he. \"That shield was made in the days of\nJoseph of Arimathea, the gentle knight who took our Lord down from the\ncross. He, when he left Jerusalem with his kindred, came to the country of\nKing Evelake, who warred continually with one Tollome; and when, by the\nteaching of Joseph, King Evelake became a Christian, this shield was made\nfor him in our Lord's name; and through its aid King Tollome was defeated.\nFor when King Evelake met him next in battle, he hid it in a veil, and\nsuddenly uncovering it, he showed his enemies the figure of a bleeding man\nnailed to a cross, at sight of which they were discomfited and fled.\nPresently after that, a man whose hand was smitten off touched the cross\nupon the shield, and had his hand restored to him; and many other miracles\nit worked. But suddenly the cross that was upon it vanished away. Anon\nboth Joseph and King Evelake came to Britain, and by the preaching of\nJoseph the people were made Christians. And when at length he lay upon his\ndeath-bed, King Evelake begged of him some token ere he died. Then,\ncalling for his shield, he dipped his finger in his own blood, for he was\nbleeding fast, and none could staunch the wound, and marked that cross\nupon it, saying, 'This cross shall ever show as bright as now, and the\nlast of my lineage shall wear this shield about his neck, and go forth to\nall the marvellous deeds he will achieve.'\"\n\nWhen the White Knight had thus spoken he vanished suddenly away, and Sir\nGalahad returned to the abbey.\n\nAs he alighted, came a monk, and prayed him to go see a tomb in the\nchurchyard, wherefrom came such a great and hideous noise, that none could\nhear it but they went nigh mad, or lost all strength. \"And sir,\" said he,\n\"I deem it is a fiend.\"\n\n\"Lead me thither,\" said Sir Galahad.\n\nWhen they were come near the place, \"Now,\" said the monk, \"go thou to the\ntomb, and lift it up.\"\n\nAnd Galahad, nothing afraid, quickly lifted up the stone, and forthwith\ncame out a foul smoke, and from the midst thereof leaped up the loathliest\nfigure that ever he had seen in the likeness of man; and Galahad blessed\nhimself, for he knew it was a fiend of hell. Then he heard a voice crying\nout, \"Oh, Galahad, I cannot tear thee as I would; I see so many angels\nround thee, that I may not come at thee.\"\n\n[Illustration: Galahad ... quickly lifted up the stone, and forthwith came\nout a foul smoke.]\n\nThen the fiend suddenly disappeared with a marvellous great cry; and Sir\nGalahad, looking in the tomb, saw there a body all armed, with a sword\nbeside it. \"Now, fair brother,\" said he to the monk, \"let us remove this\ncursed body, which is not fit to lie in a churchyard, for when it lived, a\nfalse and perjured Christian man dwelt in it. Cast it away, and there\nshall come no more hideous noises from the tomb.\"\n\n\"And now must I depart,\" he added, \"for I have much in hand, and am upon\nthe holy quest of the Sangreal, with many more good knights.\"\n\nSo he took his leave, and rode many journeys backwards and forwards as\nadventure would lead him; and at last one day he departed from a castle\nwithout first hearing mass, which was it ever his custom to hear before he\nleft his lodging. Anon he found a ruined chapel on a mountain, and went in\nand kneeled before the altar, and prayed for wholesome counsel what to do;\nand as he prayed he heard a voice, which said, \"Depart, adventurous\nknight, unto the Maiden's Castle, and redress the violence and wrongs\nthere done!\"\n\nHearing these words he cheerfully arose, and mounted his horse, and rode\nbut half a mile, when he saw before him a strong castle, with deep ditches\nround it, and a fair river running past. And seeing an old churl hard by,\nhe asked him what men called that castle.\n\n\"Fair sir,\" said he, \"it is the Maiden's Castle.\"\n\n\"It is a cursed place,\" said Galahad, \"and all its masters are but felons,\nfull of mischief and hardness and shame.\"\n\n\"For that good reason,\" said the old man, \"thou wert well-advised to turn\nthee back.\"\n\n\"For that same reason,\" quoth Sir Galahad, \"will I the more certainly ride\non.\"\n\nThen, looking at his armour carefully, to see that nothing failed him, he\nwent forward, and presently there met him seven damsels, who cried out,\n\"Sir knight, thou ridest in great peril, for thou hast two waters to pass\nover.\"\n\n\"Why should I not pass over them?\" said he, and rode straight on.\n\nAnon he met a squire, who said, \"Sir knight, the masters of this castle\ndefy thee, and bid thee go no further, till thou showest them thy business\nhere.\"\n\n\"Fair fellow,\" said Sir Galahad, \"I am come here to destroy their wicked\ncustoms.\"\n\n\"If that be thy purpose,\" answered he, \"thou wilt have much to do.\"\n\n\"Go thou,\" said Galahad, \"and hasten with my message.\"\n\nIn a few minutes after rode forth furiously from the gateways of the\ncastle seven knights, all brothers, and crying out, \"Knight, keep thee,\"\nbore down all at once upon Sir Galahad. But thrusting forth his spear, he\nsmote the foremost to the earth, so that his neck was almost broken, and\nwarded with his shield the spears of all the others, which every one brake\noff from it, and shivered into pieces. Then he drew out his sword, and set\nupon them hard and fiercely, and by his wondrous force drave them before\nhim, and chased them to the castle gate, and there he slew them.\n\nAt that came out to him an ancient man, in priest's vestments, saying,\n\"Behold, sir, here, the keys of this castle.\"\n\nThen he unlocked the gates, and found within a multitude of people, who\ncried out, \"Sir knight, ye be welcome, for long have we waited thy\ndeliverance,\" and told him that the seven felons he had slain had long\nenslaved the people round about, and killed all knights who passed that\nway, because the maiden whom they had robbed of the castle had foretold\nthat by one knight they should themselves be overthrown.\n\n\"Where is the maiden?\" asked Sir Galahad.\n\n\"She lingereth below in a dungeon,\" said they.\n\nSo Sir Galahad went down and released her, and restored her her\ninheritance; and when he had summoned the barons of the country to do her\nhomage, he took his leave, and departed.\n\nPresently thereafter, as he rode, he entered a great forest, and in a\nglade thereof met two knights, disguised, who proffered him to joust.\nThese were Sir Lancelot, his father, and Sir Percival, but neither knew\nthe other. So he and Sir Lancelot encountered first, and Sir Galahad smote\ndown his father. Then drawing his sword, for his spear was broken, he\nfought with Sir Percival, and struck so mightily that he clave Sir\nPercival's helm, and smote him from his horse.\n\nNow hard by where they fought there was a hermitage, where dwelt a pious\nwoman, a recluse, who, when she heard the sound, came forth, and seeing\nSir Galahad ride, she cried, \"God be with thee, the best knight in the\nworld; had yonder knights known thee as well as I do, they would not have\nencountered with thee.\"\n\nWhen Sir Galahad heard that, fearing to be made known, he forthwith smote\nhis horse with his spurs, and departed at a great pace.\n\nSir Lancelot and Sir Percival heard her words also, and rode fast after\nhim, but within awhile he was out of their sight. Then Sir Percival rode\nback to ask his name of the recluse; but Sir Lancelot went forward on his\nquest, and following any path his horse would take, he came by-and-by\nafter nightfall to a stone cross hard by an ancient chapel. When he had\nalighted and tied his horse up to a tree, he went and looked in through\nthe chapel door, which was all ruinous and wasted, and there within he saw\nan altar, richly decked with silk, whereon there stood a fair candlestick\nof silver, bearing six great lights. And when Sir Lancelot saw the light,\nhe tried to get within the chapel, but could find no place. So, being\npassing weary and heavy, he came again to his horse, and when he had\nunsaddled him, and set him free to pasture, he unlaced his helm, and\nungirded his sword, and laid him down to sleep upon his shield before the\ncross.\n\nAnd while he lay between waking and sleeping, he saw come by him two white\npalfreys bearing a litter, wherein a sick knight lay, and the palfreys\nstood still by the cross. Then Sir Lancelot heard the sick man say, \"O\nsweet Lord, when shall this sorrow leave me, and the holy vessel pass by\nme, wherethrough I shall be blessed? for I have long endured.\"\n\nWith that Sir Lancelot saw the chapel open, and the candlestick with the\nsix tapers come before the cross, but he could see none who bare it. Then\ncame there also a table of silver, and thereon the holy vessel of the\nSangreal. And when the sick knight saw that, he sat up, and lifting both\nhis hands, said, \"Fair Lord, sweet Lord, who art here within this holy\nvessel, have mercy on me, that I may be whole;\" and therewith he crept\nupon his hands and knees so nigh, that he might touch the vessel; and when\nhe had kissed it, he leaped up, and stood and cried aloud, \"Lord God, I\nthank Thee, for I am made whole.\" Then the Holy Grale departed with the\ntable and the silver candlestick into the chapel, so that Sir Lancelot saw\nit no more, nor for his sins' sake could he follow it. And the knight who\nwas healed went on his way.\n\nThen Sir Lancelot awake, and marvelled whether he had seen aught but a\ndream. And as he marvelled, he heard a voice saying, \"Sir Lancelot, thou\nare unworthy, go thou hence, and withdraw thee from this holy place.\" And\nwhen he heard that, he was passing heavy, for he bethought him of his\nsins.\n\nSo he departed weeping, and cursed the day of his birth, for the words\nwent into his heart, and he knew wherefore he was thus driven forth. Then\nhe went to seek his arms and horse, but could not find them; and then he\ncalled himself the wretchedest and most unhappy of all knights, and said,\n\"My sin hath brought me unto great dishonour: for when I sought earthly\nhonours, I achieved them ever; but now I take upon me holy things, my\nguilt doth hinder me, and shameth me; therefore had I no power to stir or\nspeak when the holy blood appeared before me.\"\n\nSo thus he sorrowed till it was day, and he heard the birds sing; then was\nhe somewhat comforted, and departing from the cross on foot, he came into\na wild forest, and to a high mountain, and there he found a hermitage;\nand, kneeling before the hermit down upon both his knees, he cried for\nmercy for his wicked works, and prayed him to hear his confession. But\nwhen he told his name, the hermit marvelled to see him in so sore a case,\nand said, \"Sir, ye ought to thank God more than any knight living, for He\nhath given thee more honour than any; yet for thy presumption, while in\ndeadly sin to come into the presence of His flesh and blood, He suffered\nthee neither to see nor follow it. Wherefore, believe that all thy\nstrength and manhood will avail thee little, when God is against thee.\"\n\nThen Sir Lancelot wept and said, \"Now know I well ye tell me truth.\"\n\nThen he confessed to him, and told him all his sins, and how he had for\nfourteen years served but Queen Guinevere only, and forgotten God, and\ndone great deeds of arms for her, and not for Heaven, and had little or\nnothing thanked God for the honour that he won. And then Sir Lancelot\nsaid, \"I pray you counsel me.\"\n\n\"I will counsel thee,\" said he: \"never more enter into that queen's\ncompany when ye can avoid it.\"\n\nSo Sir Lancelot promised him.\n\n\"Look that your heart and your mouth accord,\" said the good man, \"and ye\nshall have more honour and more nobleness than ever ye have had.\"\n\nThen were his arms and horse restored to him, and so he took his leave,\nand rode forth, repenting greatly.\n\nNow Sir Percival had ridden back to the recluse, to learn who that knight\nwas whom she had called the best in the world. And when he had told her\nthat he was Sir Percival, she made passing great joy of him, for she was\nhis mother's sister, wherefore she opened her door to him, and made him\ngood cheer. And on the morrow she told him of her kindred to him, and they\nboth made great rejoicing. Then he asked her who that knight was, and she\ntold him, \"He it is who on Whit Sunday last was clad in the red robe, and\nbare the red arms; and he hath no peer, for he worketh all by miracle, and\nshall be never overcome by any earthly hands.\"\n\n\"By my goodwill,\" said Sir Percival, \"I will never after these tidings\nhave to do with Sir Galahad but in the way of kindness; and I would fain\nlearn where I may find him.\"\n\n\"Fair nephew,\" said she, \"ye must ride to the Castle of Goth, where he\nhath a cousin; by him ye may be lodged, and he will teach you the way to\ngo; but if he can tell you no tidings, ride straight to the Castle of\nCarbonek, where the wounded king is lying, for there shall ye surely hear\ntrue tidings of him.\"\n\nSo Sir Percival departed from his aunt, and rode till evensong time, when\nhe was ware of a monastery closed round with walls and deep ditches, where\nhe knocked at the gate, and anon was let in. And there he had good cheer\nthat night, and on the morrow heard mass. And beside the altar where the\npriest stood, was a rich bed of silk and cloth of gold; and on the bed\nthere lay a man passing old, having a crown of gold upon his head, and all\nhis body was full of great wounds, and his eyes almost wholly blind; and\never he held up his hands and said, \"Sweet Lord, forget not me!\"\n\nThen Sir Percival asked one of the brethren who he was.\n\n\"Sir,\" said the good man, \"ye have heard of Joseph of Arimathea, how he\nwas sent of Jesus Christ into this land to preach and teach the Christian\nfaith. Now, in the city of Sarras he converted a king named Evelake, and\nthis is he. He came with Joseph to this land, and ever desired greatly to\nsee the Sangreal; so on a time he came nigh thereto, and was struck almost\nblind. Then he cried out for mercy, and said, 'Fair Lord, I pray thee let\nme never die until a good knight of my blood achieve the Sangreal, and I\nmay see and kiss him.' When he had thus prayed, he heard a voice that\nsaid, 'Thy prayers be heard and answered, for thou shalt not die till that\nknight kiss thee; and when he cometh shall thine eyes be opened and thy\nwounds be healed.' And now hath he lived here for three hundred winters in\na holy life, and men say a certain knight of King Arthur's court shall\nshortly heal him.\"\n\nThereat Sir Percival marvelled greatly, for he well knew who that knight\nshould be; and so, taking his leave of the monk, departed.\n\nThen he rode on till noon, and came into a valley where he met twenty\nmen-at-arms bearing a dead knight on a bier. And they cried to him,\n\"Whence comest thou?\"\n\n\"From King Arthur's court,\" he answered.\n\nThen they all cried together, \"Slay him,\" and set upon him.\n\nBut he smote down the first man to the ground, and his horse upon him;\nwhereat seven of them all at once assailed him, and others slew his horse.\nThus he had been either taken or slain, but by good chance Sir Galahad was\npassing by that way, who, seeing twenty men attacking one, cried, \"Slay\nhim not,\" and rushed upon them; and, as fast as his horse could drive, he\nencountered with the foremost man, and smote him down. Then, his spear\nbeing broken, he drew forth his sword and struck out on the right hand and\non the left, at each blow smiting down a man, till the remainder fled, and\nhe pursued them.\n\nThen Sir Percival, knowing that it was Sir Galahad, would fain have\novertaken him, but could not, for his horse was slain. Yet followed he on\nfoot as fast as he could go; and as he went there met him a yeoman riding\non a palfrey, and leading in his hand a great black steed. So Sir Percival\nprayed him to lend him the steed, that he might overtake Sir Galahad. But\nhe replied, \"That can I not do, fair sir, for the horse is my master's,\nand should I lend it he would slay me.\" So he departed, and Sir Percival\nsat down beneath a tree in heaviness of heart. And as he sat, anon a\nknight went riding past on the black steed which the yeoman had led. And\npresently after came the yeoman back in haste, and asked Sir Percival if\nhe had seen a knight riding his horse.\n\n\"Yea,\" said Sir Percival.\n\n\"Alas,\" said the yeoman, \"he hath reft him from me by strength, and my\nmaster will slay me.\"\n\nThen he besought Sir Percival to take his hackney and follow, and get back\nhis steed. So he rode quickly, and overtook the knight, and cried,\n\"Knight, turn again.\" Whereat he turned and set his spear, and smote Sir\nPercival's hackney in the breast, so that it fell dead, and then went on\nhis way. Then cried Sir Percival after him, \"Turn now, false knight, and\nfight with me on foot;\" but he would not, and rode out of sight.\n\nThen was Sir Percival passing wroth and heavy of heart, and lay down to\nrest beneath a tree, and slept till midnight. When he awoke he saw a woman\nstanding by him, who said to him right fiercely, \"Sir Percival, what doest\nthou here?\"\n\n\"I do neither good nor evil,\" said he.\n\n\"If thou wilt promise me,\" said she, \"to do my will whenever I shall ask\nthee, I will bring thee here a horse that will bear thee wheresoever thou\ndesirest.\"\n\nAt that he was full glad, and promised as she asked. Then anon she came\nagain, with a great black steed, strong and well apparelled. So Sir\nPercival mounted, and rode through the clear moonlight, and within less\nthan an hour had gone a four days' journey, till he came to a rough water\nthat roared; and his horse would have borne him into it, but Sir Percival\nwould not suffer him, yet could he scarce restrain him. And seeing the\nwater so furious, he made the sign of the cross upon his forehead, whereat\nthe horse suddenly shook him off, and with a terrible sound leaped into\nthe water and disappeared, the waves all burning up in flames around him.\nThen Sir Percival knew it was a fiend which had brought him the horse; so\nhe commended himself to God, and prayed that he might escape temptations,\nand continued in prayer till it was day.\n\nThen he saw that he was on a wild mountain, nigh surrounded on all sides\nby the sea, and filled with wild beasts; and going on into a valley, he\nsaw a serpent carrying a young lion by the neck. With that came another\nlion, crying and roaring after the serpent, and anon overtook him, and\nbegan to battle with him. And Sir Percival helped the lion, and drew his\nsword, and gave the serpent such a stroke that it fell dead. Thereat the\nlion fawned upon him like a dog, licking his hands, and crouching at his\nfeet, and at night lay down by him and slept at his side.\n\nAnd at noon the next day Sir Percival saw a ship come sailing before a\nstrong wind upon the sea towards him, and he rose and went towards it. And\nwhen it came to shore, he found it covered with white samite, and on the\ndeck there stood an old man dressed in priest's robes, who said, \"God be\nwith you, fair sir; whence come ye?\"\n\n\"I am a knight of King Arthur's court,\" said he, \"and follow the quest of\nthe Sangreal; but here have I lost myself in this wilderness.\"\n\n\"Fear nothing,\" said the old man, \"for I have come from a strange country\nto comfort thee.\"\n\nThen he told Sir Percival it was a fiend of hell upon which he had ridden\nto the sea, and that the lion, whom he had delivered from the serpent,\nmeant the Church. And Sir Percival rejoiced at these tidings, and entered\ninto the ship, which presently sailed from the shore into the sea.\n\nNow when Sir Bors rode forth from Camelot to seek the Sangreal, anon he\nmet a holy man riding on an ass, and courteously saluted him.\n\n\"Who are ye, son?\" said the good man.\n\n\"I am a knight,\" said he, \"in quest of the Sangreal, and would fain have\nthy counsel, for he shall have much earthly honour who may bring it to a\nfavourable end.\"\n\n\"That is truth,\" said the good man, \"for he shall be the best knight of\nthe world; yet know that none shall gain it save by sinless living.\"\n\nSo they rode to his hermitage together, and there he prayed Sir Bors to\nabide that night, and anon they went into the chapel, and Sir Bors was\nconfessed. And they eat bread and drank water together.\n\n\"Now,\" said the hermit, \"I pray thee eat no other food till thou sit at\nthe table where the Sangreal shall be.\" Thereto Sir Bors agreed.\n\n\"Also,\" said the hermit, \"it were wise that ye should wear a sackcloth\ngarment next your skin, for penance;\" and in this also did Sir Bors as he\nwas counselled. And afterwards he armed himself and took his leave.\n\nThen rode he onwards all that day, and as he rode he saw a passing great\nbird sit in an old dry tree, whereon no leaves were left; and many little\nbirds lay round the great one, nigh dead with hunger. Then did the big\nbird smite himself with his own bill, and bled till he died amongst his\nlittle ones, and they recovered life in drinking up his blood. When Sir\nBors saw this he knew it was a token, and rode on full of thought. And\nabout eventide he came to a tower, whereto he prayed admission, and he was\nreceived gladly by the lady of the castle. But when a supper of many meats\nand dainties was set before him, he remembered his vow, and bade a squire\nto bring him water, and therein he dipped his bread, and ate.\n\nThen said the lady, \"Sir Bors, I fear ye like not my meat.\"\n\n\"Yea, truly,\" said he; \"God thank thee, madam; but I may eat no other meat\nthis day.\"\n\nAfter supper came a squire, and said, \"Madam, bethink thee to provide a\nchampion for thee to-morrow for the tourney, or else shall thy sister have\nthy castle.\"\n\nAt that the lady wept, and made great sorrow. But Sir Bors prayed her to\nbe comforted, and asked her why the tournament was held. Then she told him\nhow she and her sister were the daughters of King Anianse, who left them\nall his lands between them; and how her sister was the wife of a strong\nknight, named Sir Pridan le Noir, who had taken from herself all her\nlands, save the one tower wherein she dwelt. \"And now,\" said she, \"this\nalso will they take, unless I find a champion by to-morrow.\"\n\nThen said Sir Bors, \"Be comforted; to-morrow I will fight for thee;\"\nwhereat she rejoiced not a little, and sent word to Sir Pridan that she\nwas provided and ready. And Sir Bors lay on the floor, and in no bed, nor\never would do otherwise till he had achieved his quest.\n\nOn the morrow he arose and clothed himself, and went into the chapel,\nwhere the lady met him, and they heard mass together. Anon he called for\nhis armour, and went with a goodly company of knights to the battle. And\nthe lady prayed him to refresh himself ere he should fight, but he refused\nto break his fast until the tournament were done. So they all rode\ntogether to the lists, and there they saw the lady's eldest sister, and\nher husband, Sir Pridan le Noir. And a cry was made by the heralds that,\nwhichever should win, his lady should have all the other's lands.\n\nThen the two knights departed asunder a little space, and came together\nwith such force, that both their spears were shivered, and their shields\nand hauberks pierced through; and both fell to the ground sorely wounded,\nwith their horses under them. But swiftly they arose, and drew their\nswords, and smote each other on the head with many great and heavy blows,\ntill the blood ran down their bodies; and Sir Pridan was a full good\nknight, so that Sir Bors had more ado than he had thought for to overcome\nhim.\n\nBut at last Sir Pridan grew a little faint; that instantly perceived Sir\nBors, and rushed upon him the more vehemently, and smote him fiercely,\ntill he rent off his helm, and then gave him great strokes upon his visage\nwith the flat of his sword, and bade him yield or be slain.\n\nAnd then Sir Pridan cried him mercy, and said, \"For God's sake slay me\nnot, and I will never war against thy lady more.\" So Sir Bors let him go,\nand his wife fled away with all her knights.\n\nThen all those who had held lands of the lady of the tower came and did\nhomage to her again, and swore fealty. And when the country was at peace\nSir Bors departed, and rode forth into a forest until it was midday, and\nthere befell him a marvellous adventure.\n\nFor at a place where two ways parted, there met him two knights, bearing\nSir Lionel, his brother, all naked, bound on a horse, and as they rode,\nthey beat him sorely with thorns, so that the blood trailed down in more\nthan a hundred places from his body; but for all this he uttered no word\nor groan, so great he was of heart. As soon as Sir Bors knew his brother,\nhe put his spear in rest to run and rescue him; but in the same moment\nheard a woman's voice cry close beside him in the wood, \"St. Mary, succour\nthy maid;\" and, looking round, he saw a damsel whom a felon knight dragged\nafter him into the thickets; and she, perceiving him, cried piteously for\nhelp, and adjured him to deliver her as he was a sworn knight. Then was\nSir Bors sore troubled, and knew not what to do, for he thought within\nhimself, \"If I let my brother be, he will be murdered; but if I help not\nthe maid, she is shamed for ever, and my vow compelleth me to set her\nfree; wherefore must I first help her, and trust my brother unto God.\"\n\nSo, riding to the knight who held the damsel, he cried out, \"Sir knight,\nlay your hand off that maid, or else ye be but dead.\"\n\nAt that the knight set down the maid, and dropped his shield, and drew\nforth his sword against Sir Bors, who ran at him, and smote him through\nboth shield and shoulder, and threw him to the earth; and when he pulled\nhis spear forth, the knight swooned. Then the maid thanked Sir Bors\nheartily, and he set her on the knight's horse, and brought her to her\nmen-at-arms, who presently came riding after her. And they made much joy,\nand besought him to come to her father, a great lord, and he should be\nright welcome. But \"truly,\" said he, \"I may not at this time, for I have a\ngreat adventure yet to do;\" and commending them to God, he departed in\ngreat haste to find his brother.\n\nSo he rode, seeking him by the track of the horses a great while. Anon he\nmet a seeming holy man riding upon a strong black horse, and asked him,\nhad he seen pass by that way a knight led bound and beaten with thorns by\ntwo others.\n\n\"Yea, truly, such an one I saw,\" said the man; \"but he is dead, and lo!\nhis body is hard by in a bush.\"\n\nThen he showed him a newly slain body lying in a thick bush, which seemed\nindeed to be Sir Lionel. Then made Sir Bors such mourning and sorrow that\nby-and-by he fell into a swoon upon the ground. And when he came to\nhimself again, he took the body in his arms and put it on his horse's\nsaddle, and bore it to a chapel hard by, and would have buried it. But\nwhen he made the sign of the cross, he heard a full great noise and cry as\nthough all the fiends of hell had been about him, and suddenly the body\nand the chapel and the old man vanished all away. Then he knew that it was\nthe devil who had thus beguiled him, and that his brother yet lived.\n\nThen held he up his hands to heaven, and thanked God for his own escape\nfrom hurt, and rode onwards; and anon, as he passed by an hermitage in a\nforest, he saw his brother sitting armed by the door. And when he saw him\nhe was filled with joy, and lighted from his horse, and ran to him and\nsaid, \"Fair brother, when came ye hither?\"\n\nBut Sir Lionel answered, with an angry face, \"What vain words be these,\nwhen for you I might have been slain? Did ye not see me bound and led away\nto death, and left me in that peril to go succouring a gentlewoman, the\nlike whereof no brother ever yet hath done? Now, for thy false misdeed, I\ndo defy thee, and ensure thee speedy death.\"\n\nThen Sir Bors prayed his brother to abate his anger, and said, \"Fair\nbrother, remember the love that should be between us twain.\"\n\nBut Sir Lionel would not hear, and prepared to fight and mounted his horse\nand came before him, crying, \"Sir Bors, keep thee from me, for I shall do\nto thee as a felon and a traitor; therefore, start upon thy horse, for if\nthou wilt not, I will run upon thee as thou standest.\"\n\nBut for all his words Sir Bors would not defend himself against his\nbrother. And anon the fiend stirred up Sir Lionel to such rage, that he\nrushed over him and overthrew him with his horse's hoofs, so that he lay\nswooning on the ground. Then would he have rent off his helm and slain\nhim, but the hermit of that place ran out, and prayed him to forbear, and\nshielded Sir Bors with his body.\n\nThen Sir Lionel cried out, \"Now, God so help me, sir priest, but I shall\nslay thee else thou depart, and him too after thee.\"\n\nAnd when the good man utterly refused to leave Sir Bors, he smote him on\nthe head until he died, and then he took his brother by the helm and\nunlaced it, to have stricken off his head, and so he would have done, but\nsuddenly was pulled off backwards by a knight of the Round Table, who, by\nthe will of Heaven, was passing by that place--Sir Colgrevance by name.\n\n\"Sir Lionel,\" he cried, \"will ye slay your brother, one of the best\nknights of all the world? That ought no man to suffer.\"\n\n\"Why,\" said Sir Lionel, \"will ye hinder me and meddle in this strife?\nbeware, lest I shall slay both thee and him.\"\n\nAnd when Sir Colgrevance refused to let them be, Sir Lionel defied him,\nand gave him a great stroke through the helmet, whereat Sir Colgrevance\ndrew his sword, and smote again right manfully. And so long they fought\ntogether that Sir Bors awoke from his swoon, and tried to rise and part\nthem, but had no strength to stand upon his feet.\n\nAnon Sir Colgrevance saw him, and cried out to him for help, for now Sir\nLionel had nigh defeated him. When Sir Bors heard that, he struggled to\nhis feet, and put his helmet on, and took his sword. But before he could\ncome to him, Sir Lionel had smitten off Sir Colgrevance's helm, and thrown\nhim to the earth and slain him. Then turned he to his brother as a man\npossessed by fiends, and gave him such a stroke as bent him nearly double.\n\nBut still Sir Bors prayed him for God's sake to quit that battle, \"For if\nit befell us that we either slew the other we should die for care of that\nsin.\"\n\n\"Never will I spare thee if I master thee,\" cried out Sir Lionel.\n\nThen Sir Bors drew his sword all weeping, and said, \"Now, God have mercy\non me, though I defend my life against my brother;\" with that he lifted up\nhis sword to strike, but suddenly he heard a mighty voice, \"Put up thy\nsword, Sir Bors, and flee, or thou shalt surely slay him.\" And then there\nfell upon them both a fiery cloud, which flamed and burned their shields,\nand they fell to the earth in sore dread.\n\nAnon Sir Bors rose to his feet, and saw that Sir Lionel had taken no harm.\nThen came the voice again, and said, \"Sir Bors, go hence and leave thy\nbrother, and ride thou forward to the sea, for there Sir Percival abideth\nthee.\"\n\nThen he said to his brother, \"Brother, forgive me all my trespass against\nthee.\"\n\nAnd Sir Lionel answered, \"God forgive it thee, as I do.\"\n\nThen he departed and rode to the sea, and on the strand he found a ship\nall covered with white samite, and as soon as he had entered thereinto,\nit put forth from the shore. And in the midst of the ship there stood an\narmed knight, whom he knew to be Sir Percival. Then they rejoiced greatly\nover each other, and said, \"We lack nothing now but the good knight Sir\nGalahad.\"\n\nNow when Sir Galahad had rescued Sir Percival from the twenty knights he\nrode into a vast forest. And after many days it befell that he came to a\ncastle whereat was a tournament. And the knights of the castle were put to\nthe worse; which when he saw, he set his spear in rest and ran to help\nthem, and smote down many of their adversaries. And as it chanced, Sir\nGawain was amongst the stranger knights, and when he saw the white shield\nwith the red cross, he knew it was Sir Galahad, and proffered to joust\nwith him. So they encountered, and having broken their spears, they drew\ntheir swords, and Sir Galahad smote Sir Gawain so sorely on the helm that\nhe clove it through, and struck on slanting to the earth, carving the\nhorse's shoulder in twain, and Sir Gawain fell to the earth. Then Sir\nGalahad beat back all who warred against the castle, yet would he not wait\nfor thanks, but rode away that no man might know him.\n\nAnd he rested that night at a hermitage, and when he was asleep, he heard\na knocking at the door. So he rose, and found a damsel there, who said,\n\"Sir Galahad, I will that ye arm you, and mount upon your horse and follow\nme, for I will show you within these three days the highest adventure that\never any knight saw.\"\n\nAnon Sir Galahad armed him, and took his horse, and commended himself to\nGod, and bade the gentlewoman go, and he would follow where she liked.\n\nSo they rode onwards to the sea as fast as their horses might gallop, and\nat night they came to a castle in a valley, inclosed by running water, and\nby strong and high walls, whereinto they entered and had great cheer, for\nthe lady of the castle was the damsel's mistress.\n\nAnd when he was unarmed, the damsel said to her lady, \"Madam, shall we\nabide here this night?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said she, \"but only till he hath dined and slept a little.\"\n\nSo he ate and slept a while, till the maid called him, and armed him by\ntorchlight; and when he had saluted the lady of the castle, the damsel and\nSir Galahad rode on.\n\nAnon they came to the seaside, and lo! the ship, wherein were Sir Percival\nand Sir Bors, abode by the shore. Then they cried, \"Welcome, Sir Galahad,\nfor we have awaited thee long.\"\n\nThen they rejoiced to see each other, and told of all their adventures and\ntemptations. And the damsel went into the ship with them, and spake to Sir\nPercival: \"Sir Percival, know ye not who I am?\"\n\nAnd he replied, \"Nay, certainly, I know thee not.\"\n\nThen said she, \"I am thy sister, the daughter of King Pellinore, and am\nsent to help thee and these knights, thy fellows, to achieve the quest\nwhich ye all follow.\"\n\nSo Sir Percival rejoiced to see his sister, and they departed from the\nshore. And after a while they came upon a whirlpool, where their ship\ncould not live. Then saw they another greater ship hard by and went\ntowards it, but saw neither man nor woman therein. And on the end of it\nthese words were written, \"Thou who shalt enter me, beware that thou be in\nsteadfast belief, for I am Faith; and if thou doubtest, I cannot help\nthee.\" Then were they all adread, but, commending themselves to God, they\nentered in.\n\nAs soon as they were on board they saw a fair bed; whereon lay a crown of\nsilk, and at the foot was a fair and rich sword drawn from its scabbard\nhalf a foot and more. The pommel was of precious stones of many colours,\nevery colour having a different virtue, and the scales of the haft were of\ntwo ribs of different beasts. The one was bone of a serpent from Calidone\nforest, named the serpent of the fiend; and its virtue saveth all men who\nhold it from weariness. The other was of a fish that haunteth the floods\nof Euphrates, named Ertanax; and its virtue causeth whoever holdeth it to\nforget all other things, whether of joy or pain, save the thing he seeth\nbefore him.\n\n\"In the name of God,\" said Sir Percival, \"I shall assay to handle this\nsword; \"and set his hand to it, but could not grasp it. \"By my faith,\"\nsaid he, \"now have I failed.\"\n\nSir Bors set his hand to it, and failed also.\n\nThen came Sir Galahad, and saw these letters written red as blood, \"None\nshall draw me forth save the hardiest of all men; but he that draweth me\nshall never be shamed or wounded to death.\" \"By my faith,\" said Sir\nGalahad, \"I would draw it forth, but dare not try.\"\n\n\"Ye may try safely,\" said the gentlewoman, Sir Percival's sister, \"for be\nye well assured the drawing of this sword is forbid to all but you. For\nthis was the sword of David, King of Israel, and Solomon his son made for\nit this marvellous pommel and this wondrous sheath, and laid it on this\nbed till thou shouldest come and take it up; and though before thee some\nhave dared to raise it, yet have they all been maimed or wounded for their\ndaring.\"\n\n\"Where,\" said Sir Galahad, \"shall we find a girdle for it?\"\n\n\"Fair sir,\" said she, \"dismay you not;\" and therewith took from out a box\na girdle, nobly wrought with golden thread, set full of precious stones\nand with a rich gold buckle. \"This girdle, lords,\" said she, \"is made for\nthe most part of mine own hair, which, while I was yet in the world, I\nloved full well; but when I knew that this adventure was ordained me, I\ncut off and wove as ye now see.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"This girdle, lords,\" said she, \"is made for the most part\nof mine own hair, which, while I was yet in the world, I loved full\nwell.\"]\n\nThen they all prayed Sir Galahad to take the sword, and so anon he gripped\nit in his fingers; and the maiden girt it round his waist, saying, \"Now\nreck I not though I die, for I have made thee the worthiest knight of all\nthe world.\"\n\n\"Fair damsel,\" said Sir Galahad, \"ye have done so much that I shall be\nyour knight all the days of my life.\"\n\nThen the ship sailed a great way on the sea, and brought them to land near\nthe Castle of Carteloise. When they were landed came a squire and asked\nthem, \"Be ye of King Arthur's court?\"\n\n\"We are,\" said they.\n\n\"In an evil hour are ye come,\" said he, and went back swiftly to the\ncastle.\n\nWithin a while they heard a great horn blow, and saw a multitude of\nwell-armed knights come forth, who bade them yield or die. At that they\nran together, and Sir Percival smote one to the earth and mounted his\nhorse, and so likewise did Sir Bors and Sir Galahad, and soon had they\nrouted all their enemies and alighted on foot, and with their swords slew\nthem downright, and entered into the castle.\n\nThen came there forth a priest, to whom Sir Galahad kneeled and said, \"In\nsooth, good father, I repent me of this slaughter; but we were first\nassailed, or else it had not been.\"\n\n\"Repent ye not,\" said the good man, \"for if ye lived as long as the world\nlasted ye could do no better deed, for these were all the felon sons of a\ngood knight, Earl Hernox, whom they have thrown into a dungeon, and in his\nname have slain priests and clerks, and beat down chapels far and near.\"\n\nThen Sir Galahad prayed the priest to bring him to the earl; who, when he\nsaw Sir Galahad, cried out, \"Long have I waited for thy coming, and now I\npray thee hold me in thine arms that I may die in peace.\"\n\nAnd therewith, when Sir Galahad had taken him in his arms, his soul\ndeparted from his body.\n\nThen came a voice in the hearing of them all, \"Depart now, Sir Galahad,\nand go quickly to the maimed king, for he hath long abided to receive\nhealth from thy hand.\"\n\nSo the three knights departed, and Sir Percival's sister with them, and\ncame to a vast forest, and saw before them a white hart, exceeding fair,\nled by four lions; and marvelling greatly at that sight, they followed.\n\nAnon they came to a hermitage and a chapel, whereunto the hart entered,\nand the lions with it. Then a priest offered mass, and presently they saw\nthe hart change into the figure of a man, most sweet and comely to behold;\nand the four lions also changed and became a man, an eagle, a lion, and an\nox. And suddenly all those five figures vanished without sound. Then the\nknights marvelled greatly, and fell upon their knees, and when they rose\nthey prayed the priest to tell them what that sight might mean.\n\n\"What saw ye, sirs?\" said he, \"for I saw nothing.\" Then they told him.\n\n\"Ah, lords!\" said he, \"ye are full welcome; now know I well ye be the\nknights who shall achieve the Sangreal, for unto them alone such\nmysteries are revealed. The hart ye saw is One above all men, white and\nwithout blemish, and the four lions with Him are the four evangelists.\"\n\nWhen they heard that they heartily rejoiced, and thanking the priest,\ndeparted.\n\nAnon, as they passed by a certain castle, an armed knight suddenly came\nafter them, and cried out to the damsel, \"By the holy cross, ye shall not\ngo till ye have yielded to the custom of the castle.\"\n\n\"Let her go,\" said Sir Percival, \"for a maiden, wheresoever she cometh, is\nfree.\"\n\n\"Whatever maiden passeth here,\" replied the knight, \"must give a dishful\nof her blood from her right arm.\"\n\n\"It is a foul and shameful custom,\" cried Sir Galahad and both his\nfellows, \"and sooner will we die than let this maiden yield thereto.\"\n\n\"Then shall ye die,\" replied the knight, and as he spake there came out\nfrom a gate hard by, ten or twelve more, and encountered with them,\nrunning upon them vehemently with a great cry. But the three knights\nwithstood them, and set their hands to their swords, and beat them down\nand slew them.\n\nAt that came forth a company of threescore knights, all armed. \"Fair\nlords,\" said Sir Galahad, \"have mercy on yourselves and keep from us.\"\n\n\"Nay, fair lords,\" they answered, \"rather be advised by us, and yield ye\nto our custom.\"\n\n\"It is an idle word,\" said Galahad, \"in vain ye speak it.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said they, \"will ye die?\"\n\n\"We be not come thereto as yet,\" replied Sir Galahad.\n\nThen did they fall upon each other, and Sir Galahad drew forth his sword,\nand smote on the right hand and on the left, and slew so mightily that\nall who saw him thought he was a monster and no earthly man. And both his\ncomrades helped him well, and so they held the field against that\nmultitude till it was night. Then came a good knight forward from the\nenemy and said, \"Fair knights, abide with us to-night and be right\nwelcome; by the faith of our bodies as we are true knights, to-morrow ye\nshall rise unharmed, and meanwhile maybe ye will, of your own accord,\naccept the custom of the castle when ye know it better.\"\n\nSo they entered and alighted and made great cheer. Anon, they asked them\nwhence that custom came. \"The lady of this castle is a leper,\" said they,\n\"and can be no way cured save by the blood of a pure virgin and a king's\ndaughter; therefore to save her life are we her servants bound to stay\nevery maid that passeth by, and try if her blood may not cure our\nmistress.\"\n\nThen said the damsel, \"Take ye of my blood as much as ye will, if it may\navail your lady.\"\n\nAnd though the three knights urged her not to put her life in that great\nperil, she replied, \"If I die to heal another's body, I shall get health\nto my soul,\" and would not be persuaded to refuse.\n\nSo on the morrow she was brought to the sick lady, and her arm was bared,\nand a vein thereof was opened, and the dish filled with her blood. Then\nthe sick lady was anointed therewith, and anon she was whole of her\nmalady. With that Sir Percival's sister lifted up her hand and blessed\nher, saying, \"Madam, I am come to my death to make you whole; for God's\nlove pray for me;\" and thus saying she fell down in a swoon.\n\nThen Sir Galahad, Sir Percival, and Sir Bors started to lift her up and\nstaunch her blood, but she had lost too much to live. So when she came to\nherself she said to Sir Percival, \"Fair brother, I must die for the\nhealing of this lady, and now, I pray thee, bury me not here, but when I\nam dead put me in a boat at the next haven and let me float at venture on\nthe sea. And when ye come to the city of Sarras, to achieve the Sangreal,\nshall ye find me waiting by a tower, and there I pray thee bury me, for\nthere shall Sir Galahad and ye also be laid.\" Thus having said, she died.\n\nThen Sir Percival wrote all the story of her life and put it in her right\nhand, and so laid her in a barge and covered it with silk. And the wind\narising drove the barge from land, and all the knights stood watching it\ntill it was out of sight.\n\nAnon they returned to the castle, and forthwith fell a sudden tempest of\nthunder and lightning and rain, as if the earth were broken up: and half\nthe castle was thrown down. Then came a voice to the three knights which\nsaid, \"Depart ye now asunder till ye meet again where the maimed king is\nlying.\" So they parted and rode divers ways.\n\nNow after Sir Lancelot had left the hermit, he rode a long while till he\nknew not whither to turn, and so he lay down to sleep, if haply he might\ndream whither to go.\n\nAnd in his sleep a vision came to him saying, \"Lancelot, rise up and take\nthine armour, and enter the first ship that thou shalt find.\"\n\nWhen he awoke he obeyed the vision, and rode till he came to the\nsea-shore, and found there a ship without sails or oars, and as soon as he\nwas in it he smelt the sweetest savour he had ever known, and seemed\nfilled with all things he could think of or desire. And looking round he\nsaw a fair bed, and thereon a gentlewoman lying dead, who was Sir\nPercival's sister. And as Sir Lancelot looked on her he spied the writing\nin her right hand, and, taking it, he read therein her story. And more\nthan a month thereafter he abode in that ship and was nourished by the\ngrace of Heaven, as Israel was fed with manna in the desert.\n\nAnd on a certain night he went ashore to pass the time, for he was\nsomewhat weary, and, listening, he heard a horse come towards him, from\nwhich a knight alighted and went up into the ship; who, when he saw Sir\nLancelot, said, \"Fair sir, ye be right welcome to mine eyes, for I am thy\nson Galahad, and long time I have sought for thee.\" With that he kneeled\nand asked his blessing, and took off his helm and kissed him, and the\ngreat joy there was between them no tongue can tell.\n\nThen for half a year they dwelt together in the ship, and served God night\nand day with all their powers, and went to many unknown islands, where none\nbut wild beasts haunted, and there found many strange and perilous\nadventures.\n\nAnd upon a time they came to the edge of a forest, before a cross of\nstone, and saw a knight armed all in white, leading a white horse. Then\nthe knight saluted them, and said to Galahad, \"Ye have been long time\nenough with your father; now, therefore, leave him and ride this horse\ntill ye achieve the Holy Quest.\"\n\nThen went Sir Galahad to his father and kissed him full courteously, and\nsaid, \"Fair father, I know not when I shall see thee again.\"\n\nAnd as he took his horse a voice spake in their hearing, \"Ye shall meet no\nmore in this life.\"\n\n\"Now, my son, Sir Galahad,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"since we must so part and\nsee each other never more, I pray the High Father of Heaven to preserve\nboth you and me.\"\n\nThen they bade farewell, and Sir Galahad entered the forest, and Sir\nLancelot returned to the ship, and the wind rose and drove him more than a\nmonth through the sea, whereby he slept but little, yet ever prayed that\nhe might see the Sangreal.\n\nSo it befell upon a certain midnight, the moon shining clear, he came\nbefore a fair and rich castle, whereof the postern gate was open towards\nthe sea, having no keeper save two lions in the entry.\n\nAnon Sir Lancelot heard a voice: \"Leave now thy ship and go within the\ncastle, and thou shalt see a part of thy desire.\"\n\nThen he armed and went towards the gate, and coming to the lions he drew\nout his sword, but suddenly a dwarf rushed out and smote him on the arm,\nso that he dropt his sword, and heard again the voice, \"Oh, man of evil\nfaith, and poor belief, wherefore trustest thou thine arms above thy\nMaker?\" Then he put up his sword and signed the cross upon his forehead,\nand so passed by the lions without hurt.\n\nAnd going in, he found a chamber with the door shut, which in vain he\ntried to open. And listening thereat he heard a voice within, which sang\nso sweetly that it seemed no earthly thing, \"Joy and honour be to the\nFather of Heaven!\" Then he kneeled down at the door, for he knew well the\nSangreal was there within.\n\nAnon the door was opened without hands, and forthwith came thereout so\ngreat a splendour as if all the torches of the world had been alight\ntogether. But when he would have entered in, a voice forbad him; wherefore\nhe drew back, and looked, standing upon the threshold of the door. And\nthere he saw a table of silver, and the holy vessel covered with red\nsamite, and many angels round it holding burning candles and a cross and\nall the ornaments of the altar.\n\nThen a priest stood up and offered mass, and when he took the vessel up,\nhe seemed to sink beneath that burden. At that Sir Lancelot cried, \"O\nFather, take it not for sin that I go in to help the priest, who hath much\nneed thereof.\" So saying, he went in, but when he came towards the table\nhe felt a breath of fire which issued out therefrom and smote him to the\nground, so that he had no power to rise.\n\nThen felt he many hands about him, which took him up and laid him down\noutside the chapel door. There lay he in a swoon all through that night,\nand on the morrow certain people found him senseless, and bore him to an\ninner chamber and laid him on a bed. And there he rested, living, but\nmoving no limbs, twenty-four days and nights.\n\nOn the twenty-fifth day he opened his eyes and saw those standing round,\nand said, \"Why have ye waked me? for I have seen marvels that no tongue\ncan tell, and more than any heart can think.\"\n\nThen he asked where he was, and they told him, \"In the Castle of\nCarbonek.\"\n\n\"Tell your lord, King Pelles,\" said he, \"that I am Sir Lancelot.\"\n\nAt that they marvelled greatly, and told their lord it was Sir Lancelot\nwho had lain there so long.\n\nThen was King Pelles wondrous glad and went to see him, and prayed him to\nabide there for a season. But Sir Lancelot said, \"I know well that I have\nnow seen as much as mine eyes may behold of the Sangreal; wherefore I will\nreturn to my own country.\" So he took leave of King Pelles, and departed\ntowards Logris.\n\nNow after Sir Galahad had parted from Sir Lancelot, he rode many days,\ntill he came to the monastery where the blind King Evelake lay, whom Sir\nPercival had seen. And on the morrow, when he had heard mass, Sir Galahad\ndesired to see the king, who cried out, \"Welcome, Sir Galahad, servant of\nthe Lord! long have I abided thy coming. Take me now in thine arms, that I\nmay die in peace.\"\n\nAt that Sir Galahad embraced him; and when he had so done the king's eyes\nwere opened, and he said, \"Fair Lord Jesus, suffer me now to come to\nThee;\" and anon his soul departed.\n\nThen they buried him royally, as a king should be; and Sir Galahad went on\nhis way.\n\nWithin a while he came to a chapel in a forest, in the crypt whereof he\nsaw a tomb which always blazed and burnt. And asking the brethren what\nthat might mean, they told him, \"Joseph of Arimathea's son did found this\nmonastery, and one who wronged him hath lain here these three hundred and\nfifty years and burneth evermore, until that perfect knight who shall\nachieve the Sangreal doth quench the fire.\"\n\nThen said he, \"I pray ye bring me to the tomb.\"\n\nAnd when he touched the place immediately the fire was quenched, and a\nvoice came from the grave and cried, \"Thanks be to God, who now hath\npurged me of my sin, and draweth me from earthly pains into the joys of\nparadise.\"\n\nThen Sir Galahad took the body in his arms and bore it to the abbey, and\non the morrow put it in the earth before the high altar.\n\nAnon he departed from thence and rode five days in a great forest; and\nafter that he met Sir Percival, and a little further on Sir Bors. When\nthey had told each other their adventures, they rode together to the\nCastle of Carbonek: and there King Pelles gave them hearty welcome, for he\nknew they should achieve the Holy Quest.\n\nAs soon as they were come into the castle, a voice cried in the midst of\nthe chamber, \"Let them who ought not now to sit at the table of the Lord\nrise and depart hence!\" Then all, save those three knights, departed.\n\nAnon they saw other knights come in with haste at the hall doors and take\ntheir harness off, who said to Sir Galahad, \"Sir, we have tried sore to be\nwith you at this table.\"\n\n\"Ye be welcome,\" said he, \"but whence are ye?\"\n\nSo three of them said they were from Gaul; and three from Ireland; and\nthree from Denmark.\n\nThen came forth the likeness of a bishop, with a cross in his hand, and\nfour angels stood by him, and a table of silver was before them, whereon\nwas set the vessel of the Sangreal. Then came forth other angels also--two\nbearing burning candles, and the third a towel, and the fourth a spear\nwhich bled marvellously, the drops wherefrom fell into a box he held in\nhis left hand. Anon the bishop took the wafer up to consecrate it, and at\nthe lifting up, they saw the figure of a Child, whose visage was as bright\nas any fire, which smote itself into the midst of the wafer and vanished,\nso that all saw the flesh made bread.\n\nThereat the bishop went to Galahad and kissed him, and bade him go and\nkiss his fellows; and said, \"Now, servants of the Lord, prepare for food\nsuch as none ever yet were fed with since the world began.\"\n\nWith that he vanished, and the knights were filled with a great dread and\nprayed devoutly.\n\nThen saw they come forth from the holy vessel the vision of a man bleeding\nall openly, whom they knew well by the tokens of His passion for the Lord\nHimself. At that they fell upon their faces and were dumb. Anon he brought\nthe Holy Grale to them and spake high words of comfort, and, when they\ndrank therefrom, the taste thereof was sweeter than any tongue could tell\nor heart desire. Then a voice said to Galahad, \"Son, with this blood which\ndrippeth from the spear anoint thou the maimed king and heal him. And when\nthou hast this done, depart hence with thy brethren in a ship that ye\nshall find, and go to the city of Sarras. And bear with thee the holy\nvessel, for it shall no more be seen in the realm of Logris.\"\n\nAt that Sir Galahad walked to the bleeding spear, and therefrom anointing\nhis fingers went out straightway to the maimed King Pelles, and touched\nhis wound. Then suddenly he uprose from his bed as whole a man as ever he\nwas, and praised God passing thankfully with all his heart.\n\nThen Sir Galahad, Sir Bors, and Sir Percival departed as they had been\ntold; and when they had ridden three days they came to the sea-shore, and\nfound the ship awaiting them. Therein they entered, and saw in the midst\nthe silver table and the vessel of the Sangreal, covered with red samite.\nThen were they passing glad, and made great reverence thereto. And Sir\nGalahad prayed that now he might leave the world and pass to God. And\npresently, the while he prayed, a voice said to him, \"Galahad, thy prayer\nis heard, and when thou asketh the death of the body thou shalt have it,\nand find the life of thy soul.\"\n\nBut while they prayed and slept the ship sailed on, and when they woke\nthey saw the city of Sarras before them, and the other ship wherein was\nSir Percival's sister. Then the three knights took up the holy table and\nthe Sangreal and went into the city; and there, in a chapel, they buried\nSir Percival's sister right solemnly.\n\nNow at the gate of the town they saw an old cripple sitting, whom Sir\nGalahad called to help them bear their weight.\n\n\"Truly,\" said the old man, \"it is ten years since I have gone a step\nwithout these crutches.\"\n\n\"Care ye not,\" said Sir Galahad; \"rise now and show goodwill.\"\n\nSo he assayed to move, and found his limbs as strong as any man's might\nbe, and running to the table helped to carry it.\n\nAnon there rose a rumour in the city that a cripple had been healed by\ncertain marvellous strange knights.\n\nBut the king, named Estouranse, who was a heathen tyrant, when he heard\nthereof took Sir Galahad and his fellows, and put them in prison in a deep\nhole. Therein they abode a great while, but ever the Sangreal was with\nthem and fed them with marvellous sweet food, so that they fainted not,\nbut had all joy and comfort they could wish.\n\nAt the year's end the king fell sick and felt that he should die. Then\nsent he for the three knights, and when they came before him prayed their\nmercy for his trespasses against them. So they forgave him gladly, and\nanon he died.\n\nThen the chief men of the city took counsel together who should be king in\nhis stead, and as they talked, a voice cried in their midst, \"Choose ye\nthe youngest of the three knights King Estouranse cast into prison for\nyour king.\" At that they sought Sir Galahad and made him king with the\nassent of all the city, and else they would have slain him.\n\nBut within a twelvemonth came to him, upon a certain day, as he prayed\nbefore the Sangreal, a man in likeness of a bishop, with a great company\nof angels round about him, who offered mass, and afterwards called to Sir\nGalahad, \"Come forth, thou servant of the Lord, for the time hath come\nthou hast desired so long.\"\n\nThen Sir Galahad lifted up his hands and prayed, \"Now, blessed Lord! would\nI no longer live if it might please Thee.\"\n\nAnon the bishop gave him the sacrament, and when he had received it with\nunspeakable gladness, he said, \"Who art thou, father?\"\n\n\"I am Joseph of Arimathea,\" answered he, \"whom our Lord hath sent to bear\nthee fellowship.\"\n\nWhen he heard that, Sir Galahad went to Sir Percival and Sir Bors and\nkissed them and commended them to God, saying, \"Salute for me Sir\nLancelot, my father, and bid him remember this unstable world.\"\n\nTherewith he kneeled down and prayed, and suddenly his soul departed, and\na multitude of angels bare it up to heaven. Then came a hand from heaven\nand took the vessel and the spear and bare them out of sight.\n\nSince then was never man so hardy as to say that he had seen the Sangreal.\n\nAnd after all these things, Sir Percival put off his armour and betook him\nto an hermitage, and within a little while passed out of this world. And\nSir Bors, when he had buried him beside his sister, returned, weeping sore\nfor the loss of his two brethren, to King Arthur, at Camelot.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\n_Sir Lancelot and the Fair Maid of Astolat_\n\n\nNow after the quest of the Sangreal was fulfilled and all the knights who\nwere left alive were come again to the Round Table, there was great joy in\nthe court. And passing glad were King Arthur and Queen Guinevere to see\nSir Lancelot and Sir Bors, for they had been long absent in that quest.\n\nAnd so greatly was Sir Lancelot's fame now spread abroad that many ladies\nand damsels daily resorted to him and besought him for their champion; and\nall right quarrels did he gladly undertake for the pleasure of our Lord\nChrist. And always as much as he might he withdrew him from the queen.\n\nWherefore Queen Guinevere, who counted him for her own knight, grew wroth\nwith him, and on a certain day she called him to her chamber, and said\nthus: \"Sir Lancelot, I daily see thy loyalty to me doth slack, for ever\nthou art absent from this court, and takest other ladies' quarrels on thee\nmore than ever thou wert wont. Now do I understand thee, false knight, and\ntherefore shall I never trust thee more. Depart now from my sight, and\ncome no more within this court upon pain of thy head.\" With that she\nturned from him and would hear no excuses.\n\nSo Sir Lancelot departed in heaviness of heart, and calling Sir Bors, Sir\nEctor, and Sir Lionel, he told them how the queen had dealt with him.\n\n\"Fair sir,\" replied Sir Bors, \"remember what honour ye have in this\ncountry, and how ye are called the noblest knight in the world; wherefore\ngo not, for women are hasty, and do often what they sore repent of\nafterwards. Be ruled by my advice. Take horse and ride to the hermitage\nbeside Windsor, and there abide till I send ye better tidings.\"\n\nTo that Sir Lancelot consented, and departed with a sorrowful countenance.\n\nNow when the queen heard of his leaving she was inwardly sorry, but made\nno show of grief, bearing a proud visage outwardly. And on a certain day\nshe made a costly banquet to all the knights of the Round Table, to show\nshe had as great joy in all others as in Sir Lancelot. And at the banquet\nwere Sir Gawain, and his brothers Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, and Sir\nGareth; also Sir Modred, Sir Bors, Sir Blamor, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Ector,\nSir Lionel, Sir Palomedes, Sir Mador de la Port, and his cousin Sir\nPatrice--a knight of Ireland, Sir Pinell le Savage, and many more.\n\nNow Sir Pinell hated Sir Gawain because he had slain one of his kinsmen by\ntreason; and Sir Gawain had a great love for all kinds of fruit, which,\nwhen Sir Pinell knew, he poisoned certain apples that were set upon the\ntable, with intent to slay him. And so it chanced as they ate and made\nmerry, Sir Patrice, who sat next to Sir Gawain, took one of the poisoned\napples and eat it, and when he had eaten he suddenly swelled up and fell\ndown dead.\n\nAt that every knight leapt from the board ashamed and enraged nigh out of\ntheir wits, for they knew not what to say, yet seeing that the queen had\nmade the banquet they all had suspicion of her.\n\n\"My lady the queen,\" said Sir Gawain, \"I wit well this fruit was meant for\nme, for all men know my love for it, and now had I been nearly slain;\nwherefore, I fear me, ye will be ashamed.\"\n\n\"This shall not end so,\" cried Sir Mador de la Port; \"now have I lost a\nnoble knight of my own blood, and for this despite and shame I will be\nrevenged to the uttermost.\"\n\nThen he challenged Queen Guinevere concerning the death of his cousin, but\nshe stood still, sore abashed, and anon with her sorrow and dread, she\nswooned.\n\nAt the noise and sudden cry came in King Arthur, and to him appealed Sir\nMador, and impeached the queen.\n\n\"Fair lords,\" said he, \"full sorely am I troubled at this matter, for I\nmust be rightful judge, and therein it repenteth me I may not do battle\nfor my wife, for, as I deem, this deed was none of hers. But I suppose she\nwill not lack a champion, and some good knight surely will put his body in\njeopardy to save her.\"\n\nBut all who had been bidden to the banquet said they could not hold the\nqueen excused, or be her champions, for she had made the feast, and either\nby herself or servants must it have come.\n\n\"Alas!\" said the queen, \"I made this dinner for a good intent, and no\nevil, so God help me in my need.\"\n\n\"My lord the king,\" said Sir Mador, \"I require you heartily as you be a\nrighteous king give me a day when I may have justice.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the king, \"I give ye this day fifteen days, when ye shall be\nready and armed in the meadow beside Westminster, and if there be a\nknight to fight with you, God speed the right, and if not, then must my\nqueen be burnt.\"\n\nWhen the king and queen were alone together he asked her how this case\nbefell.\n\n\"I wot not how or in what manner,\" answered she.\n\n\"Where is Sir Lancelot?\" said King Arthur, \"for he would not grudge to do\nbattle for thee.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"I cannot tell you, but all his kinsmen deem he is not in\nthis realm.\"\n\n\"These be sad tidings,\" said the king; \"I counsel ye to find Sir Bors, and\npray him for Sir Lancelot's sake to do this battle for you.\"\n\nSo the queen departed and sent for Sir Bors to her chamber, and besought\nhis succour.\n\n\"Madam,\" said he, \"what would you have me do? for I may not with my honour\ntake this matter on me, for I was at that same dinner, and all the other\nknights would have me ever in suspicion. Now do ye miss Sir Lancelot, for\nhe would not have failed you in right nor yet in wrong, as ye have often\nproved, but now ye have driven him from the country.\"\n\n\"Alas! fair knight,\" said the queen, \"I put me wholly at your mercy, and\nall that is done amiss I will amend as ye will counsel me.\"\n\nAnd therewith she kneeled down upon both her knees before Sir Bors, and\nbesought him to have mercy on her.\n\nAnon came in King Arthur also, and prayed him of his courtesy to help her,\nsaying, \"I require you for the love of Lancelot.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said he, \"ye require the greatest thing of me that any man can\nask, for if I do this battle for the queen I shall anger all my fellows of\nthe Table Round; nevertheless, for my lord Sir Lancelot's sake, and for\nyours, I will that day be the queen's champion, unless there chance to\ncome a better knight than I am to do battle for her.\" And this he promised\non his faith.\n\nThen were the king and queen passing glad, and thanked him heartily, and\nso departed.\n\nBut Sir Bors rode in secret to the hermitage where Sir Lancelot was, and\ntold him all these tidings.\n\n\"It has chanced as I would have it,\" said Sir Lancelot; \"yet make ye ready\nfor the battle, but tarry till ye see me come.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Bors, \"doubt not but ye shall have your will.\"\n\nBut many of the knights were greatly wroth with him when they heard he was\nto be the queen's champion, for there were few in the court but deemed her\nguilty.\n\nThen said Sir Bors, \"Wit ye well, fair lords, it were a shame to us all to\nsuffer so fair and noble a lady to be burnt for lack of a champion, for\never hath she proved herself a lover of good knights; wherefore I doubt\nnot she is guiltless of this treason.\"\n\nAt that were some well pleased, but others rested passing wroth.\n\nAnd when the day was come, the king and queen and all the knights went to\nthe meadow beside Westminster, where the battle should be fought. Then the\nqueen was put in ward, and a great fire was made round the iron stake,\nwhere she must be burnt if Sir Mador won the day.\n\nSo when the heralds blew, Sir Mador rode forth, and took oath that Queen\nGuinevere was guilty of Sir Patrice's death, and his oath he would prove\nwith his body against any who would say the contrary. Then came forth Sir\nBors, and said, \"Queen Guinevere is in the right, and that will I prove\nwith my hands.\"\n\nWith that they both departed to their tents to make ready for the battle.\nBut Sir Bors tarried long, hoping Sir Lancelot would come, till Sir Mador\ncried out to King Arthur, \"Bid thy champion come forth, unless he dare\nnot.\" Then was Sir Bors ashamed, and took his horse and rode to the end of\nthe lists.\n\nBut ere he could meet Sir Mador he was ware of a knight upon a white\nhorse, armed at all points, and with a strange shield, who rode to him and\nsaid, \"I pray you withdraw from this quarrel, for it is mine, and I have\nridden far to fight in it.\"\n\nThereat Sir Bors rode to King Arthur, and told him that another knight was\ncome who would do battle for the queen.\n\n\"Who is he?\" said King Arthur.\n\n\"I may not tell you,\" said Sir Bors; \"but he made a covenant with me to be\nhere to-day, wherefore I am discharged.\"\n\nThen the king called that knight, and asked him if he would fight for the\nqueen.\n\n\"Therefore came I hither, Sir king,\" answered he; \"but let us tarry no\nlonger, for anon I have other matters to do. But wit ye well,\" said he to\nthe Knights of the Round Table, \"it is shame to ye for such a courteous\nqueen to suffer this dishonour.\"\n\nAnd all men marvelled who this knight might be, for none knew him save Sir\nBors.\n\nThen Sir Mador and the knight rode to either end of the lists, and\ncouching their spears, ran one against the other with all their might; and\nSir Mador's spear broke short, but the strange knight bore both him and\nhis horse down to the ground. Then lightly they leaped from their saddles\nand drew their swords, and so came eagerly to the battle, and either gave\nthe other many sad strokes and sore and deep wounds.\n\nThus they fought nigh an hour, for Sir Mador was a full strong and valiant\nknight. But at last the strange knight smote him to the earth, and gave\nhim such a buffet on the helm as wellnigh killed him. Then did Sir Mador\nyield, and prayed his life.\n\n[Illustration: At last the strange knight smote him to the earth, and gave\nhim such a buffet on the helm as well-nigh killed him. ]\n\n\"I will but grant it thee,\" said the strange knight, \"if thou wilt release\nthe queen from this quarrel for ever, and promise that no mention shall be\nmade upon Sir Patrice's tomb that ever she consented to that treason.\"\n\n\"All this shall be done,\" said Sir Mador.\n\nThen the knights parters took up Sir Mador and led him to his tent, and\nthe other knight went straight to the stair foot of King Arthur's throne;\nand by that time was the queen come to the king again, and kissed him\nlovingly.\n\nThen both the king and she stooped down, and thanked the knight, and\nprayed him to put off his helm and rest him, and to take a cup of wine.\nAnd when he put his helmet off to drink, all people saw it was Sir\nLancelot. But when the queen beheld him she sank almost to the ground\nweeping for sorrow and for joy, that he had done her such great goodness\nwhen she had showed him such unkindness.\n\nThen the knights of his blood gathered round him, and there was great joy\nand mirth in the court. And Sir Mador and Sir Lancelot were soon healed of\ntheir wounds; and not long after came the Lady of the Lake to the court,\nand told all there by her enchantments how Sir Pinell, and not the queen,\nwas guilty of Sir Patrice's death. Whereat the queen was held excused of\nall men, and Sir Pinell fled the country.\n\nSo Sir Patrice was buried in the church of Winchester, and it was written\non his tomb that Sir Pinell slew him with a poisoned apple, in error for\nSir Gawain. Then, through Sir Lancelot's favour, the queen was reconciled\nto Sir Mador, and all was forgiven.\n\nNow fifteen days before the Feast of the Assumption of our Lady, the king\nproclaimed a tourney to be held that feast-day at Camelot, whereat himself\nand the King of Scotland would joust with all who should come against\nthem. So thither went the King of North Wales, and King Anguish of\nIreland, and Sir Galahaut the noble prince, and many other nobles of\ndivers countries.\n\nAnd King Arthur made ready to go, and would have had the queen go with\nhim, but she said that she was sick. Sir Lancelot, also, made excuses,\nsaying he was not yet whole of his wounds.\n\nAt that the king was passing heavy and grieved, and so departed alone\ntowards Camelot. And by the way he lodged in a town called Astolat, and\nlay that night in the castle.\n\nAs soon as he had gone, Sir Lancelot said to the queen, \"This night I will\nrest, and to-morrow betimes will I take my way to Camelot; for at these\njousts I will be against the king and his fellowship.\"\n\n\"Ye may do as ye list,\" said Queen Guinevere; \"but by my counsel ye will\nnot be against the king, for in his company are many hardy knights, as ye\nwell know.\"\n\n\"Madam,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"I pray ye be not displeased with me, for I\nwill take the adventure that God may send me.\"\n\nAnd on the morrow he went to the church and heard mass, and took his leave\nof the queen, and so departed.\n\nThen he rode long till he came to Astolat, and there lodged at the castle\nof an old baron called Sir Bernard of Astolat, which was near the castle\nwhere King Arthur lodged. And as Sir Lancelot entered the king espied him,\nand knew him. Then said he to the knights, \"I have just seen a knight who\nwill fight full well at the joust toward which we go.\"\n\n\"Who is it?\" asked they.\n\n\"As yet ye shall not know,\" he answered smiling.\n\nWhen Sir Lancelot was in his chamber unarming, the old baron came to him\nsaluting him, though as yet he knew not who he was.\n\nNow Sir Bernard had a daughter passing beautiful, called the Fair Maid of\nAstolat, and when she saw Sir Lancelot she loved him from that instant\nwith her whole heart, and could not stay from gazing on him.\n\nOn the morrow, Sir Lancelot asked the old baron to lend him a strange\nshield. \"For,\" said he, \"I would be unknown.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said his host, \"ye shall have your desire, for here is the shield\nof my eldest son, Sir Torre, who was hurt the day he was made knight, so\nthat he cannot ride; and his shield, therefore, is not known. And, if it\nplease you, my youngest son, Sir Lavaine, shall ride with you to the\njousts, for he is of his age full strong and mighty; and I deem ye be a\nnoble knight, wherefore I pray ye tell me your name.\"\n\n\"As to that,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"ye must hold me excused at this time,\nbut if I speed well at the jousts, I will come again and tell you; but in\nanywise let me have your son, Sir Lavaine, with me, and lend me his\nbrother's shield.\"\n\nThen, ere they departed, came Elaine, the baron's daughter, and said to\nSir Lancelot, \"I pray thee, gentle knight, to wear my token at to-morrow's\ntourney.\"\n\n\"If I should grant you that, fair damsel,\" said he, \"ye might say that I\ndid more for you than ever I have done for lady or damsel.\"\n\nThen he bethought him that if he granted her request he would be the more\ndisguised, for never before had he worn any lady's token. So anon he said,\n\"Fair damsel, I will wear thy token on my helmet if thou wilt show it me.\"\n\nThereat was she passing glad, and brought him a scarlet sleeve broidered\nwith pearls, which Sir Lancelot took, and put upon his helm. Then he\nprayed her to keep his shield for him until he came again, and taking Sir\nTorre's shield instead, rode forth with Sir Lavaine towards Camelot.\n\nOn the morrow the trumpets blew for the tourney, and there was a great\npress of dukes and earls and barons and many noble knights; and King\nArthur sat in a gallery to behold who did the best. So the King of\nScotland and his knights, and King Anguish of Ireland rode forth on King\nArthur's side; and against them came the King of North Wales, the King of\na Hundred Knights, the King of Northumberland, and the noble prince Sir\nGalahaut.\n\nBut Sir Lancelot and Sir Lavaine rode into a little wood behind the party\nwhich was against King Arthur, to watch which side should prove the\nweakest.\n\nThen was there a strong fight between the two parties, for the King of a\nHundred Knights smote down the King of Scotland; and Sir Palomedes, who\nwas on King Arthur's side, overthrew Sir Galahaut. Then came fifteen\nKnights of the Round Table and beat back the Kings of Northumberland and\nNorth Wales with their knights.\n\n\"Now,\" said Sir Lancelot to Sir Lavaine, \"if ye will help me, ye shall\nsee yonder fellowship go back as fast as they came.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Lavaine, \"I will do what I can.\"\n\nThen they rode together into the thickest of the press, and there, with\none spear, Sir Lancelot smote down five Knights of the Round Table, one\nafter other, and Sir Lavaine overthrew two. And taking another spear, for\nhis own was broken, Sir Lancelot smote down four more knights, and Sir\nLavaine a fifth. Then, drawing his sword, Sir Lancelot fought fiercely on\nthe right hand and the left, and unhorsed Sir Safire, Sir Epinogris, and\nSir Galleron. At that the Knights of the Round Table withdrew themselves\nas well as they were able.\n\n\"Now, mercy,\" said Sir Gawain, who sat by King Arthur; \"what knight is\nthat who doth such marvellous deeds of arms? I should deem him by his\nforce to be Sir Lancelot, but that he wears a lady's token on his helm as\nnever Lancelot doth.\"\n\n\"Let him be,\" said King Arthur; \"he will be better known, and do more ere\nhe depart.\"\n\nThus the party against King Arthur prospered at this time, and his knights\nwere sore ashamed. Then Sir Bors, Sir Ector, and Sir Lionel called\ntogether the knights of their blood, nine in number, and agreed to join\ntogether in one band against the two strange knights. So they encountered\nSir Lancelot all at once, and by main force smote his horse to the ground;\nand by misfortune Sir Bors struck Sir Lancelot through the shield into the\nside, and the spear broke off and left the head in the wound.\n\nWhen Sir Lavaine saw that, he ran to the King of Scotland and struck him\noff his horse, and brought it to Sir Lancelot, and helped him to mount.\nThen Sir Lancelot bore Sir Bors and his horse to the ground, and in like\nmanner served Sir Ector and Sir Lionel; and turning upon three other\nknights he smote them down also; while Sir Lavaine did many gallant deeds.\n\nBut feeling himself now sorely wounded Sir Lancelot drew his sword, and\nproffered to fight with Sir Bors, who, by this time, was mounted anew. And\nas they met, Sir Ector and Sir Lionel came also, and the swords of all\nthree drave fiercely against him. When he felt their buffets, and his\nwound that was so grievous, he determined to do all his best while he\ncould yet endure, and smote Sir Bors a blow that bent his head down nearly\nto the ground and razed his helmet off and pulled him from his horse.\n\nThen rushing at Sir Ector and Sir Lionel, he smote them down, and might\nhave slain all three, but when he saw their faces his heart forbade him.\nLeaving them, therefore, on the field, he hurled into the thickest of the\npress, and did such feats of arms as never were beheld before.\n\nAnd Sir Lavaine was with him through it all, and overthrew ten knights;\nbut Sir Lancelot smote down more than thirty, and most of them Knights of\nthe Round Table.\n\nThen the king ordered the trumpets to blow for the end of the tourney, and\nthe prize to be given by the heralds to the knight with the white shield\nwho bore the red sleeve.\n\nBut ere Sir Lancelot was found by the heralds, came the King of the\nHundred Knights, the King of North Wales, the King of Northumberland, and\nSir Galahaut, and said to him, \"Fair knight, God bless thee, for much have\nye done this day for us; wherefore we pray ye come with us and receive\nthe honour and the prize as ye have worshipfully deserved it.\"\n\n\"My fair lords,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"wit ye well if I have deserved\nthanks, I have sore bought them, for I am like never to escape with my\nlife; therefore I pray ye let me depart, for I am sore hurt. I take no\nthought of honour, for I had rather rest me than be lord of all the\nworld.\" And therewith he groaned piteously, and rode a great gallop away\nfrom them.\n\nAnd Sir Lavaine rode after him, sad at heart, for the broken spear still\nstuck fast in Sir Lancelot's side, and the blood streamed sorely from the\nwound. Anon they came near a wood more than a mile from the lists, where\nhe knew he could be hidden.\n\nThen said he to Sir Lavaine, \"O gentle knight, help me to pull out this\nspear-head from my side, for the pain thereof nigh killeth me.\"\n\n\"Dear lord,\" said he, \"I fain would help ye; but I dread to draw it forth,\nlest ye should die for loss of blood.\"\n\n\"I charge you as you love me,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"draw it out.\"\n\nSo they dismounted, and with a mighty wrench Sir Lavaine drew the spear\nforth from Sir Lancelot's side; whereat he gave a marvellous great shriek\nand ghastly groan, and all his blood leaped forth in a full stream. Then\nhe sank swooning to the earth, with a visage pale as death.\n\n\"Alas!\" cried Sir Lavaine, \"what shall I do now?\"\n\nAnd then he turned his master's face towards the wind, and sat by him nigh\nhalf an hour while he lay quiet as one dead. But at the last he lifted up\nhis eyes, and said, \"I pray ye bear me on my horse again, and lead me to a\n hermit who dwelleth within two miles hence, for he was formerly a knight\nof Arthur's court, and now hath mighty skill in medicine and herbs.\"\n\nSo with great pain Sir Lavaine got him to his horse, and led him to the\nhermitage within the wood, beside a stream. Then knocked he with his spear\nupon the door, and prayed to enter. At that a child came out, to whom he\nsaid, \"Fair child, pray the good man thy master to come hither and let in\na knight who is sore wounded.\"\n\nAnon came out the knight-hermit, whose name was Sir Baldwin, and asked,\n\"Who is this wounded knight?\"\n\n\"I know not,\" said Sir Lavaine, \"save that he is the noblest knight I ever\nmet with, and hath done this day such marvellous deeds of arms against\nKing Arthur that he hath won the prize of the tourney.\"\n\nThen the hermit gazed long on Sir Lancelot, and hardly knew him, so pale\nhe was with bleeding, yet said he at the last, \"Who art thou, lord?\"\n\nSir Lancelot answered feebly, \"I am a stranger knight adventurous, who\nlaboureth through many realms to win worship.\"\n\n\"Why hidest thou thy name, dear lord, from me?\" cried Sir Baldwin; \"for in\nsooth I know thee now to be the noblest knight in all the world--my lord\nSir Lancelot du Lake, with whom I long had fellowship at the Round Table.\"\n\n\"Since ye know me, fair sir,\" said he, \"I pray ye, for Christ's sake, to\nhelp me if ye may.\"\n\n\"Doubt not,\" replied he, \"that ye shall live and fare right well.\"\n\nThen he staunched his wound, and gave him strong medicines and cordials\ntill he was refreshed from his faintness and came to himself again.\n\nNow after the jousting was done King Arthur held a feast, and asked to see\nthe knight with the red sleeve that he might take the prize. So they told\nhim how that knight had ridden from the field wounded nigh to death.\n\"These be the worst tidings I have heard for many years,\" cried out the\nking; \"I would not for my kingdom he were slain.\"\n\nThen all men asked, \"Know ye him, lord?\"\n\n\"I may not tell ye at this time,\" said he; \"but would to God we had good\ntidings of him.\"\n\nThen Sir Gawain prayed leave to go and seek that knight, which the king\ngladly gave him. So forthwith he mounted and rode many leagues round\nCamelot, but could hear no tidings.\n\nWithin two days thereafter King Arthur and his knights returned from\nCamelot, and Sir Gawain chanced to lodge at Astolat, in the house of Sir\nBernard. And there came in the fair Elaine to him, and prayed him news of\nthe tournament, and who won the prize. \"A knight with a white shield,\"\nsaid he, \"who bare a red sleeve in his helm, smote down all comers and won\nthe day.\"\n\nAt that the visage of Elaine changed suddenly from white to red, and\nheartily she thanked our Lady.\n\nThen said Sir Gawain, \"Know ye that knight?\" and urged her till she told\nhim that it was her sleeve he wore. So Sir Gawain knew it was for love\nthat she had given it; and when he heard she kept his proper shield he\nprayed to see it.\n\nAs soon as it was brought he saw Sir Lancelot's arms thereon, and cried,\n\"Alas! now am I heavier of heart than ever yet.\"\n\n\"Wherefore?\" said fair Elaine.\n\n\"Fair damsel,\" answered he, \"know ye not that the knight ye love is of\nall knights the noblest in the world, Sir Lancelot du Lake? With all my\nheart I pray ye may have joy of each other, but hardly dare I think that\nye shall see him in this world again, for he is so sore wounded he may\nscarcely live, and is gone out of sight where none can find him.\"\n\nThen was Elaine nigh mad with grief and sorrow, and with piteous words she\nprayed her father that she might go seek Sir Lancelot and her brother. So\nin the end her father gave her leave, and she departed.\n\nAnd on the morrow came Sir Gawain to the court, and told how he had found\nSir Lancelot's shield in Elaine's keeping, and how it was her sleeve which\nhe had worn; whereat all marvelled, for Sir Lancelot had done for her more\nthan he had ever done for any woman.\n\nBut when Queen Guinevere heard it she was beside herself with wrath, and\nsending privily for Sir Bors, who sorrowed sorely that through him Sir\nLancelot had been hurt--\"Have ye now heard,\" said she, \"how falsely Sir\nLancelot hath betrayed me?\"\n\n\"I beseech thee, madam,\" said he, \"speak not so, for else I may not hear\nthee.\"\n\n\"Shall I not call him traitor,\" cried she, \"who hath worn another lady's\ntoken at the jousting?\"\n\n\"Be sure he did it, madam, for no ill intent,\" replied Sir Bors, \"but that\nhe might be better hidden, for never did he in that wise before.\"\n\n\"Now shame on him, and thee who wouldest help him,\" cried the queen.\n\n\"Madam, say what ye will,\" said he; \"but I must haste to seek him, and God\nsend me soon good tidings of him.\"\n\nSo with that he departed to find Sir Lancelot.\n\nNow Elaine had ridden with full haste from Astolat, and come to Camelot,\nand there she sought throughout the country for any news of Lancelot. And\nso it chanced that Sir Lavaine was riding near the hermitage to exercise\nhis horse, and when she saw him she ran up and cried aloud, \"How doth my\nlord Sir Lancelot fare?\"\n\nThen said Sir Lavaine, marvelling greatly, \"How know ye my lord's name,\nfair sister?\"\n\nSo she told him how Sir Gawain had lodged with Sir Bernard, and knew Sir\nLancelot's shield.\n\nThen prayed she to see his lord forthwith, and when she came to the\nhermitage and found him lying there sore sick and bleeding, she swooned\nfor sorrow. Anon, as she revived, Sir Lancelot kissed her, and said, \"Fair\nmaid, I pray ye take comfort, for, by God's grace, I shall be shortly\nwhole of this wound, and if ye be come to tend me, I am heartily bounden\nto your great kindness.\" Yet was he sore vexed to hear Sir Gawain had\ndiscovered him, for he knew Queen Guinevere would be full wroth because of\nthe red sleeve.\n\nSo Elaine rested in the hermitage, and ever night and day she watched and\nwaited on Sir Lancelot, and would let none other tend him. And as she saw\nhim more, the more she set her love upon him, and could by no means\nwithdraw it. Then said Sir Lancelot to Sir Lavaine, \"I pray thee set some\nto watch for the good knight Sir Bors, for as he hurt me, so will he\nsurely seek for me.\"\n\nNow Sir Bors by this time had come to Camelot, and was seeking for Sir\nLancelot everywhere, so Sir Lavaine soon found him, and brought him to the\nhermitage.\n\nAnd when he saw Sir Lancelot pale and feeble, he wept for pity and sorrow\nthat he had given him that grievous wound. \"God send thee a right speedy\ncure, dear lord,\" said he; \"for I am of all men most unhappy to have\nwounded thee, who art our leader, and the noblest knight in all the\nworld.\"\n\n\"Fair cousin,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"be comforted, for I have but gained\nwhat I sought, and it was through pride that I was hurt, for had I warned\nye of my coming it had not been; wherefore let us speak of other things.\"\n\nSo they talked long together, and Sir Bors told him of the queen's anger.\nThen he asked Sir Lancelot, \"Was it from this maid who tendeth you so\nlovingly ye had the token?\"\n\n\"Yea,\" said Sir Lancelot; \"and would I could persuade her to withdraw her\nlove from me.\"\n\n\"Why should ye do so?\" said Sir Bors; \"for she is passing fair and loving.\nI would to heaven ye could love her.\"\n\n\"That may not be,\" replied he; \"but it repenteth me in sooth to grieve\nher.\"\n\nThen they talked of other matters, and of the great jousting at\nAllhallowtide next coming, between King Arthur and the King of North\nWales.\n\n\"Abide with me till then,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"for by that time I trust to\nbe all whole again, and we will go together.\"\n\nSo Elaine daily and nightly tending him, within a month he felt so strong\nhe deemed himself full cured. Then on a day, when Sir Bors and Sir Lavaine\nwere from the hermitage, and the knight-hermit also was gone forth, Sir\nLancelot prayed Elaine to bring him some herbs from the forest.\n\nWhen she was gone he rose and made haste to arm himself, and try if he\nwere whole enough to joust, and mounted on his horse, which was fresh with\nlack of labour for so long a time. But when he set his spear in the rest\nand tried his armour, the horse bounded and leapt beneath him, so that Sir\nLancelot strained to keep him back. And therewith his wound, which was not\nwholly healed, burst forth again, and with a mighty groan he sank down\nswooning on the ground.\n\nAt that came fair Elaine and wept and piteously moaned to see him lying\nso. And when Sir Bors and Sir Lavaine came back, she called them traitors\nto let him rise, or to know any rumour of the tournament. Anon the hermit\nreturned and was wroth to see Sir Lancelot risen, but within a while he\nrecovered him from his swoon and staunched the wound. Then Sir Lancelot\ntold him how he had risen of his own will to assay his strength for the\ntournament. But the hermit bad him rest and let Sir Bors go alone, for\nelse would he sorely peril his life. And Elaine, with tears, prayed him in\nthe same wise, so that Sir Lancelot in the end consented.\n\nSo Sir Bors departed to the tournament, and there he did such feats of\narms that the prize was given between him and Sir Gawain, who did like\nvaliantly.\n\nAnd when all was over he came back and told Sir Lancelot, and found him so\nnigh well that he could rise and walk. And within a while thereafter he\ndeparted from the hermitage and went with Sir Bors, Sir Lavaine, and fair\nElaine to Astolat, where Sir Bernard joyfully received them.\n\nBut after they had lodged there a few days Sir Lancelot and Sir Bors must\nneeds depart and return to King Arthur's court.\n\nSo when Elaine knew Sir Lancelot must go, she came to him and said, \"Have\nmercy on me, fair knight, and let me not die for your love.\"\n\nThen said Sir Lancelot, very sad at heart, \"Fair maid, what would ye that\nI should do for you?\"\n\n\"If I may not be your wife, dear lord,\" she answered, \"I must die.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said he, \"I pray heaven that may not be; for in sooth I may not be\nyour husband. But fain would I show ye what thankfulness I can for all\nyour love and kindness to me. And ever will I be your knight, fair maiden;\nand if it chance that ye shall ever wed some noble knight, right heartily\nwill I give ye such a dower as half my lands will bring.\"\n\n\"Alas! what shall that aid me?\" answered she; \"for I must die,\" and\ntherewith she fell to the earth in a deep swoon.\n\nThen was Sir Lancelot passing heavy of heart, and said to Sir Bernard and\nSir Lavaine, \"What shall I do for her?\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Bernard, \"I know well that she will die for your sake.\"\n\nAnd Sir Lavaine said, \"I marvel not that she so sorely mourneth your\ndeparture, for truly I do as she doth, and since I once have seen you,\nlord, I cannot leave you.\"\n\nSo anon, with a full sorrowful heart, Sir Lancelot took his leave, and Sir\nLavaine rode with him to the court. And King Arthur and the Knights of the\nRound Table joyed greatly to see him whole of his wound, but Queen\nGuinevere was sorely wroth, and neither spake with him nor greeted him.\n\nNow when Sir Lancelot had departed, the Maid of Astolat could neither eat,\nnor drink, not sleep for sorrow; and having thus endured ten days, she\nfelt within herself that she must die.\n\nThen sent she for a holy man, and was shriven and received the sacrament.\nBut when he told her she must leave her earthly thoughts, she answered,\n\"Am I not an earthly woman? What sin is it to love the noblest knight of\nall the world? And, by my truth, I am not able to withstand the love\nwhereof I die; wherefore, I pray the High Father of Heaven to have mercy\non my soul.\"\n\nThen she besought Sir Bernard to indite a letter as she should devise, and\nsaid, \"When I am dead put this within my hand, and dress me in my fairest\nclothes, and lay me in a barge all covered with black samite, and steer it\ndown the river till it reach the court. Thus, father, I beseech thee let\nit be.\"\n\nThen, full of grief, he promised her it should be so. And anon she died,\nand all the household made a bitter lamentation over her.\n\nThen did they as she had desired, and laid her body, richly dressed, upon\na bed within the barge, and a trusty servant steered it down the river\ntowards the court.\n\nNow King Arthur and Queen Guinevere sat at a window of the palace, and saw\nthe barge come floating with the tide, and marvelled what was laid\ntherein, and sent a messenger to see, who, soon returning, prayed them to\ncome forth.\n\nWhen they came to the shore they marvelled greatly, and the king asked of\nthe serving-men who steered the barge what this might mean. But he made\nsigns that he was dumb, and pointed to the letter in the damsel's hands.\nSo King Arthur took the letter from the hand of the corpse, and found\nthereon written, \"To the noble knight, Sir Lancelot du Lake.\"\n\nThen was Sir Lancelot sent for, and the letter read aloud by a clerk, and\nthus it was written:--\n\n[Illustration: Then was Sir Lancelot sent for, and the letter read aloud\nby a clerk.]\n\n\"Most noble knight, my lord Sir Lancelot, now hath death for ever parted\nus. I, whom men call the Maid of Astolat, set my love upon you, and have\ndied for your sake. This is my last request, that ye pray for my soul and\ngive me burial. Grant me this, Sir Lancelot, as thou art a peerless\nknight.\"\n\nAt these words the queen and all the knights wept sore for pity.\n\nThen said Sir Lancelot, \"My lord, I am right heavy for the death of this\nfair damsel; and God knoweth that right unwillingly I caused it, for she\nwas good as she was fair, and much was I beholden to her; but she loved me\nbeyond measure, and asked me that I could not give her.\"\n\n\"Ye might have shown her gentleness enough to save her life,\" answered the\nqueen.\n\n\"Madam,\" said he, \"she would but be repaid by my taking her to wife, and\nthat I could not grant her, for love cometh of the heart and not by\nconstraint.\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said the king; \"for love is free.\"\n\n\"I pray you,\" said Sir Lancelot, \"let me now grant her last asking, to be\nburied by me.\"\n\nSo on the morrow, he caused her body to be buried richly and solemnly, and\nordained masses for her soul, and made great sorrow over her.\n\nThen the queen sent for Sir Lancelot, and prayed his pardon for her wrath\nagainst him without cause. \"This is not the first time it hath been so,\"\nanswered he; \"yet must I ever bear with ye, and so do I now forgive you.\"\n\nSo Queen Guinevere and Sir Lancelot were made friends again; but anon such\nfavour did she show him, as in the end brought many evils on them both and\nall the realm.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\n_The War between King Arthur and Sir Lancelot and the Death of King\nArthur_\n\n\nWithin a while thereafter was a jousting at the court, wherein Sir\nLancelot won the prize. And two of those he smote down were Sir Agravaine,\nthe brother of Sir Gawain, and Sir Modred, his false brother--King\nArthur's son by Belisent. And because of his victory they hated Sir\nLancelot, and sought how they might injure him.\n\nSo on a night, when King Arthur was hunting in the forest, and the queen\nsent for Sir Lancelot to her chamber, they two espied him; and thinking\nnow to make a scandal and a quarrel between Lancelot and the king, they\nfound twelve others, and said Sir Lancelot was ever now in the queen's\nchamber, and King Arthur was dishonoured.\n\nThen, all armed, they came suddenly round the queen's door, and cried,\n\"Traitor! now art thou taken.\"\n\n\"Madam, we be betrayed,\" said Sir Lancelot; \"yet shall my life cost these\nmen dear.\"\n\nThen did the queen weep sore, and dismally she cried, \"Alas! there is no\narmour here whereby ye might withstand so many; wherefore ye will be\nslain, and I be burnt for the dread crime they will charge on me.\"\n\nBut while she spake the shouting of the knights was heard without,\n\"Traitor, come forth, for now thou art snared!\"\n\n\"Better were twenty deaths at once than this vile outcry,\" said Sir\nLancelot.\n\nThen he kissed her and said, \"Most noble lady, I beseech ye, as I have\never been your own true knight, take courage; pray for my soul if I be now\nslain, and trust my faithful friends, Sir Bors and Sir Lavaine, to save\nyou from the fire.\"\n\nBut ever bitterly she wept and moaned, and cried, \"Would God that they\nwould take and slay me, and that thou couldest escape.\"\n\n\"That shall never be,\" said he. And wrapping his mantle round his arm he\nunbarred the door a little space, so that but one could enter.\n\nThen first rushed in Sir Chalaunce, a full strong knight, and lifted up\nhis sword to smite Sir Lancelot; but lightly he avoided him, and struck\nSir Chalaunce, with his hand, such a sore buffet on the head as felled him\ndead upon the floor.\n\nThen Sir Lancelot pulled in his body and barred the door again, and\ndressed himself in his armour, and took his drawn sword in his hand.\n\nBut still the knights cried mightily without the door, \"Traitor, come\nforth!\"\n\n[Illustration: But still the knights cried mightily without the door,\n\"Traitor, come forth!\"]\n\n\"Be silent and depart,\" replied Sir Lancelot; \"for be ye sure ye will not\ntake me, and to-morrow will I meet ye face to face before the king.\"\n\n\"Ye shall have no such grace,\" they cried; \"but we will slay thee, or take\nthee as we list.\"\n\n\"Then save yourselves who may,\" he thundered, and therewith suddenly\nunbarred the door and rushed forth at them. And at the first blow he slew\nSir Agravaine, and after him twelve other knights, with twelve more mighty\nbuffets. And none of all escaped him save Sir Modred, who, sorely wounded,\nfled away for life.\n\nThen returned he to the queen, and said, \"Now, madam, will I depart, and\nif ye be in any danger I pray ye come to me.\"\n\n\"Surely will I stay here, for I am queen,\" she answered; \"yet if to-morrow\nany harm come to me I trust to thee for rescue.\"\n\n\"Have ye no doubt of me,\" said he, \"for ever while I live am I your own\ntrue knight.\"\n\nTherewith he took his leave, and went and told Sir Bors and all his\nkindred of this adventure. \"We will be with thee in this quarrel,\" said\nthey all; \"and if the queen be sentenced to the fire, we certainly will\nsave her.\"\n\nMeanwhile Sir Modred, in great fear and pain, fled from the court, and\nrode until he found King Arthur, and told him all that had befallen. But\nthe king would scarce believe him till he came and saw the bodies of Sir\nAgravaine and all the other knights.\n\nThen felt he in himself that all was true, and with his passing grief his\nheart nigh broke. \"Alas!\" cried he, \"now is the fellowship of the Round\nTable for ever broken: yea, woe is me! I may not with my honour spare my\nqueen.\"\n\nAnon it was ordained that Queen Guinevere should be burned to death,\nbecause she had dishonoured King Arthur.\n\nBut when Sir Gawain heard thereof, he came before the king, and said, \"My\nlord, I counsel thee be not too hasty in this matter, but stay the\njudgment of the queen a season, for it may well be that Sir Lancelot was\nin her chamber for no evil, seeing she is greatly beholden to him for so\nmany deeds done for her sake, and peradventure she had sent to him to\nthank him, and did it secretly that she might avoid slander.\"\n\nBut King Arthur answered, full of grief, \"Alas! I may not help her; she is\njudged as any other woman.\"\n\nThen he required Sir Gawain and his brethren, Sir Gaheris and Sir Gareth,\nto be ready to bear the queen to-morrow to the place of execution.\n\n\"Nay, noble lord,\" replied Sir Gawain, \"that can I never do; for neither\nwill my heart suffer me to see the queen die, nor shall men ever say I was\nof your counsel in this matter.\"\n\nThen said his brothers, \"Ye may command us to be there, but since it is\nagainst our will, we will be without arms, that we may do no battle\nagainst her.\"\n\nSo on the morrow was Queen Guinevere led forth to die by fire, and a\nmighty crowd was there, of knights and nobles, armed and unarmed. And all\nthe lords and ladies wept sore at that piteous sight. Then was she shriven\nby a priest, and the men came nigh to bind her to the stake and light the\nfire.\n\nAt that Sir Lancelot's spies rode hastily and told him and his kindred,\nwho lay hidden in a wood hard by; and suddenly, with twenty knights, he\nrushed into the midst of all the throng to rescue her.\n\nBut certain of King Arthur's knights rose up and fought with them, and\nthere was a full great battle and confusion. And Sir Lancelot drave\nfiercely here and there among the press, and smote on every side, and at\nevery blow struck down a knight, so that many were slain by him and his\nfellows.\n\nThen was the queen set free, and caught up on Sir Lancelot's saddle and\nfled away with him and all his company to the Castle of La Joyous Garde.\n\nNow so it chanced that, in the turmoil of the fighting, Sir Lancelot had\nunawares struck down and slain the two good knights Sir Gareth and Sir\nGaheris, knowing it not, for he fought wildly, and saw not that they were\nunarmed.\n\nWhen King Arthur heard thereof, and of all that battle, and the rescue of\nthe queen, he sorrowed heavily for those good knights, and was passing\nwroth with Lancelot and the queen.\n\nBut when Sir Gawain heard of his brethren's death he swooned for sorrow\nand wrath, for he wist that Sir Lancelot had killed them in malice. And as\nsoon as he recovered he ran in to the king, and said, \"Lord king and\nuncle, hear this oath which now I swear, that from this day I will not\nfail Sir Lancelot till one of us hath slain the other. And now, unless ye\nhaste to war with him, that we may be avenged, will I myself alone go\nafter him.\"\n\nThen the king, full of wrath and grief, agreed thereto, and sent letters\nthroughout the realm to summon all his knights, and went with a vast army\nto besiege the Castle of La Joyous Garde. And Sir Lancelot, with his\nknights, mightily defended it; but never would he suffer any to go forth\nand attack one of the king's army, for he was right loth to fight against\nhim.\n\nSo when fifteen weeks were passed, and King Arthur's army wasted itself in\nvain against the castle, for it was passing strong, it chanced upon a day\nSir Lancelot was looking from the walls and espied King Arthur and Sir\nGawain close beside.\n\n\"Come forth, Sir Lancelot,\" said King Arthur right fiercely, \"and let us\ntwo meet in the midst of the field.\"\n\n\"God forbid that I should encounter with thee, lord, for thou didst make\nme a knight,\" replied Sir Lancelot.\n\nThen cried Sir Gawain, \"Shame on thee, traitor and false knight, yet be ye\nwell assured we will regain the queen and slay thee and thy company; yea,\ndouble shame on ye to slay my brother Gaheris unarmed, Sir Gareth also,\nwho loved ye so well. For that treachery, be sure I am thine enemy till\ndeath.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" cried Sir Lancelot, \"that I hear such tidings, for I knew not I\nhad slain those noble knights, and right sorely now do I repent it with a\nheavy heart. Yet abate thy wrath, Sir Gawain, for ye know full well I did\nit by mischance, for I loved them ever as my own brothers.\"\n\n\"Thou liest, false recreant,\" cried Sir Gawain, fiercely.\n\nAt that Sir Lancelot was wroth, and said, \"I well see thou art now mine\nenemy, and that there can be no more peace with thee, or with my lord the\nking, else would I gladly give back the queen.\"\n\nThen the king would fain have listened to Sir Lancelot, for more than all\nhis own wrong did he grieve at the sore waste and damage of the realm, but\nSir Gawain persuaded him against it, and ever cried out foully on Sir\nLancelot.\n\nWhen Sir Bors and the other knights of Lancelot's party heard the fierce\nwords of Sir Gawain, they were passing wroth, and prayed to ride forth and\nbe avenged on him, for they were weary of so long waiting to no good. And\nin the end Sir Lancelot, with a heavy heart, consented.\n\nSo on the morrow the hosts on either side met in the field, and there was\na great battle. And Sir Gawain prayed his knights chiefly to set upon Sir\nLancelot; but Sir Lancelot commanded his company to forbear King Arthur\nand Sir Gawain.\n\nSo the two armies jousted together right fiercely, and Sir Gawain\nproffered to encounter with Sir Lionel, and overthrew him. But Sir Bors,\nand Sir Blamor, and Sir Palomedes, who were on Sir Lancelot's side, did\ngreat feats of arms, and overthrew many of King Arthur's knights.\n\nThen the king came forth against Sir Lancelot, but Sir Lancelot forbore\nhim and would not strike again.\n\nAt that Sir Bors rode up against the king and smote him down. But Sir\nLancelot cried, \"Touch him not on pain of thy head,\" and going to King\nArthur he alighted and gave him his own horse, saying, \"My lord, I pray\nthee forbear this strife, for it can bring to neither of us any honour.\"\n\nAnd when King Arthur looked on him the tears came to his eyes as he\nthought of his noble courtesy, and he said within himself, \"Alas! that\never this war began.\"\n\nBut on the morrow Sir Gawain led forth the army again, and Sir Bors\ncommanded on Sir Lancelot's side. And they two struck together so fiercely\nthat both fell to the ground sorely wounded; and all the day they fought\ntill night fell, and many were slain on both sides, yet in the end neither\ngained the victory.\n\nBut by now the fame of this fierce war spread through all Christendom, and\nwhen the Pope heard thereof he sent a Bull, and charged King Arthur to\nmake peace with Lancelot, and receive back Queen Guinevere; and for the\noffence imputed to her absolution should be given by the Pope.\n\nThereto would King Arthur straightway have obeyed, but Sir Gawain ever\nurged him to refuse.\n\nWhen Sir Lancelot heard thereof, he wrote thus to the king: \"It was never\nin my thought, lord, to withhold thy queen from thee; but since she was\ncondemned for my sake to death, I deemed it but a just and knightly part\nto rescue her therefrom; wherefore I recommend me to your grace, and\nwithin eight days will I come to thee and bring the queen in safety.\"\n\nThen, within eight days, as he had said, Sir Lancelot rode from out the\ncastle with Queen Guinevere, and a hundred knights for company, each\ncarrying an olive branch, in sign of peace. And so they came to the court,\nand found King Arthur sitting on his throne, with Sir Gawain and many\nother knights around him. And when Sir Lancelot entered with the queen,\nthey both kneeled down before the king.\n\nAnon Sir Lancelot rose and said, \"My lord, I have brought hither my lady\nthe queen again, as right requireth, and by commandment of the Pope and\nyou. I pray ye take her to your heart again and forget the past. For\nmyself I may ask nothing, and for my sin I shall have sorrow and sore\npunishment; yet I would to heaven I might have your grace.\"\n\nBut ere the king could answer, for he was moved with pity at his words,\nSir Gawain cried aloud, \"Let the king do as he will, but be sure, Sir\nLancelot, thou and I shall never be accorded while we live, for thou has\nslain my brethren traitorously and unarmed.\"\n\n\"As heaven is my help,\" replied Sir Lancelot, \"I did it ignorantly, for I\nloved them well, and while I live I shall bewail their death; but to make\nwar with me were no avail, for I must needs fight with thee if thou\nassailest, and peradventure I might kill thee also, which I were right\nloth to do.\"\n\n\"I will forgive thee never,\" cried Sir Gawain, \"and if the king accordeth\nwith thee he shall lose my service.\"\n\nThen the knights who stood near tried to reconcile Sir Gawain to Sir\nLancelot, but he would not hear them. So, at the last, Sir Lancelot said,\n\"Since peace is vain, I will depart, lest I bring more evil on my\nfellowship.\"\n\nAnd as he turned to go, the tears fell from him, and he said, \"Alas, most\nnoble Christian realm, which I have loved above all others, now shall I\nsee thee never more!\" Then said he to the queen, \"Madam, now must I leave\nye and this noble fellowship for ever. And, I beseech ye, pray for me, and\nif ye ever be defamed of any, let me hear thereof, and as I have been ever\nthy true knight in right and wrong, so will I be again.\"\n\nWith that he kneeled and kissed King Arthur's hands, and departed on his\nway. And there was none in all that court, save Sir Gawain alone, but wept\nto see him go.\n\nSo he returned with all his knights to the Castle of La Joyous Garde, and,\nfor his sorrow's sake, he named it Dolorous Garde thenceforth.\n\nAnon he left the realm, and went with many of his fellowship beyond the\nsea to France, and there divided all his lands among them equally, he\nsharing but as the rest.\n\nAnd from that time forward peace had been between him and King Arthur, but\nfor Sir Gawain, who left the king no rest, but constantly persuaded him\nthat Lancelot was raising mighty hosts against him.\n\nSo in the end his malice overcame the king, who left the government in\ncharge of Modred, and made him guardian of the queen, and went with a\ngreat army to invade Sir Lancelot's lands.\n\nYet Sir Lancelot would make no war upon the king, and sent a message to\ngain peace on any terms King Arthur chose. But Sir Gawain met the herald\nere he reached the king, and sent him back with taunting and bitter words.\nWhereat Sir Lancelot sorrowfully called his knights together and fortified\nthe Castle of Benwicke, and there was shortly besieged by the army of King\nArthur.\n\nAnd every day Sir Gawain rode up to the walls, and cried out foully on Sir\nLancelot, till, upon a time, Sir Lancelot answered him that he would meet\nhim in the field and put his boasting to the proof. So it was agreed on\nboth sides that there should none come nigh them or separate them till one\nhad fallen or yielded; and they two rode forth.\n\nThen did they wheel their horses apart, and turning, came together as it\nhad been thunder, so that both horses fell, and both their lances broke.\nAt that they drew their swords and set upon each other fiercely, with\npassing grievous strokes.\n\nNow Sir Gawain had through magic a marvellous great gift. For every day,\nfrom morning till noon, his strength waxed to the might of seven men, but\nafter that waned to his natural force. Therefore till noon he gave Sir\nLancelot many mighty buffets, which scarcely he endured. Yet greatly he\nforbore Sir Gawain, for he was aware of his enchantment, and smote him\nslightly till his own knights marvelled. But after noon Sir Gawain's\nstrength sank fast, and then, with one full blow, Sir Lancelot laid him on\nthe earth. Then Sir Gawain cried out, \"Turn not away, thou traitor knight,\n but slay me if thou wilt, or else I will arise and fight with thee again\nsome other time.\"\n\n\"Sir knight,\" replied Sir Lancelot, \"I never yet smote a fallen man.\"\n\nAt that they bore Sir Gawain sorely wounded to his tent, and King Arthur\nwithdrew his men, for he was loth to shed the blood of so many knights of\nhis own fellowship.\n\nBut now came tidings to King Arthur from across the sea, which caused him\nto return in haste. For thus the news ran, that no sooner was Sir Modred\nset up in his regency, than he had forged false tidings from abroad that\nthe king had fallen in a battle with Sir Lancelot. Whereat he had\nproclaimed himself the king, and had been crowned at Canterbury, where he\nhad held a coronation feast for fifteen days. Then he had gone to\nWinchester, where Queen Guinevere abode, and had commanded her to be his\nwife; whereto, for fear and sore perplexity, she had feigned consent, but,\nunder pretext of preparing for the marriage, had fled in haste to London\nand taken shelter in the Tower, fortifying it and providing it with all\nmanner of victuals, and defending it against Sir Modred, and answering to\nall his threats that she would rather slay herself than be his queen.\n\nThus was it written to King Arthur. Then, in passing great wrath and\nhaste, he came with all his army swiftly back from France and sailed to\nEngland. But when Sir Modred heard thereof, he left the Tower and marched\nwith all his host to meet the king at Dover.\n\nThen fled Queen Guinevere to Amesbury to a nunnery, and there she clothed\nherself in sackcloth, and spent her time in praying for the king and in\ngood deeds and fasting. And in that nunnery evermore she lived, sorely\nrepenting and mourning for her sin, and for the ruin she had brought on\nall the realm. And there anon she died.\n\nAnd when Sir Lancelot heard thereof, he put his knightly armour off, and\nbade farewell to all his kin, and went a mighty pilgrimage for many years,\nand after lived a hermit till his death.\n\nWhen Sir Modred came to Dover, he found King Arthur and his army but just\nlanded; and there they fought a fierce and bloody battle, and many great\nand noble knights fell on both sides.\n\nBut the king's side had the victory, for he was beyond himself with might\nand passion, and all his knights so fiercely followed him, that, in spite\nof all their multitude, they drove Sir Modred's army back with fearful\nwounds and slaughter, and slept that night upon the battle-field.\n\nBut Sir Gawain was smitten by an arrow in the wound Sir Lancelot gave him,\nand wounded to the death. Then was he borne to the king's tent, and King\nArthur sorrowed over him as it had been his own son. \"Alas!\" said he; \"in\nSir Lancelot and in you I had my greatest earthly joy, and now is all gone\nfrom me.\"\n\nAnd Sir Gawain answered, with a feeble voice, \"My lord and king, I know\nwell my death is come, and through my own wilfulness, for I am smitten in\nthe wound Sir Lancelot gave me. Alas! that I have been the cause of all\nthis war, for but for me thou hadst been now at peace with Lancelot, and\nthen had Modred never done this treason. I pray ye, therefore, my dear\nlord, be now agreed with Lancelot, and tell him, that although he gave me\nmy death-wound, it was through my own seeking; wherefore I beseech him to\ncome back to England, and here to visit my tomb, and pray for my soul.\"\n\nWhen he had thus spoken, Sir Gawain gave up his ghost, and the king\ngrievously mourned for him.\n\nThen they told him that the enemy had camped on Barham Downs, whereat,\nwith all his hosts, he straightway marched there, and fought again a\nbloody battle, and overthrew Sir Modred utterly. Howbeit, he raised yet\nanother army, and retreating ever from before the king, increased his\nnumbers as he went, till at the farthest west in Lyonesse, he once more\nmade a stand.\n\nNow, on the night of Trinity Sunday, being the eve of the battle, King\nArthur had a vision, and saw Sir Gawain in a dream, who warned him not to\nfight with Modred on the morrow, else he would be surely slain; and prayed\nhim to delay till Lancelot and his knights should come to aid him.\n\nSo when King Arthur woke he told his lords and knights that vision, and\nall agreed to wait the coming of Sir Lancelot. Then a herald was sent with\na message of truce to Sir Modred, and a treaty was made that neither army\nshould assail the other.\n\nBut when the treaty was agreed upon, and the heralds returned, King Arthur\nsaid to his knights, \"Beware, lest Sir Modred deceive us, for I in no wise\ntrust him, and if swords be drawn be ready to encounter!\" And Sir Modred\nlikewise gave an order, that if any man of the king's army drew his sword,\nthey should begin to fight.\n\nAnd as it chanced, a knight of the king's side was bitten by an adder in\nthe foot, and hastily drew forth his sword to slay it. That saw Sir\nModred, and forthwith commanded all his army to assail the king's.\n\nSo both sides rushed to battle, and fought passing fiercely. And when the\nking saw there was no hope to stay them, he did right mightily and nobly\nas a king should do, and ever, like a lion, raged in the thickest of the\npress, and slew on the right hand and on the left, till his horse went\nfetlock deep in blood. So all day long they fought, and stinted not till\nmany a noble knight was slain.\n\nBut the king was passing sorrowful to see his trusty knights lie dead on\nevery side. And at the last but two remained beside him, Sir Lucan, and\nhis brother, Sir Bedivere, and both were sorely wounded.\n\n\"Now am I come to mine end,\" said King Arthur; \"but, lo! that traitor\nModred liveth yet, and I may not die till I have slain him. Now, give me\nmy spear, Sir Lucan.\"\n\n\"Lord, let him be,\" replied Sir Lucan; \"for if ye pass through this\nunhappy day, ye shall be right well revenged upon him. My good lord,\nremember well your dream, and what the spirit of Sir Gawain did forewarn\nye.\"\n\n\"Betide me life, betide me death,\" said the king; \"now I see him yonder\nalone, he shall never escape my hands, for at a better vantage shall I\nnever have him.\"\n\n\"God speed you well,\" said Sir Bedivere.\n\nThen King Arthur got his spear in both his hands, and ran towards Sir\nModred, crying, \"Traitor, now is thy death-day come!\" And when Sir Modred\nheard his words, and saw him come, he drew his sword and stood to meet\nhim. Then King Arthur smote Sir Modred through the body more than a\nfathom. And when Sir Modred felt he had his death wound, he thrust himself\nwith all his might up to the end of King Arthur's spear, and smote his\nfather, Arthur, with his sword upon the head, so that it pierced both helm\nand brain-pan.\n\nAnd therewith Sir Modred fell down stark dead to the earth, and King\nArthur fell down also in a swoon, and swooned many times.\n\nThen Sir Lucan and Sir Bedivere came and bare him away to a little chapel\nby the sea-shore. And there Sir Lucan sank down with the bleeding of his\nown wounds, and fell dead.\n\nAnd King Arthur lay long in a swoon, and when he came to himself, he found\nSir Lucan lying dead beside him, and Sir Bedivere weeping over the body of\nhis brother.\n\nThen said the king to Sir Bedivere, \"Weeping will avail no longer, else\nwould I grieve for evermore. Alas! now is the fellowship of the Round\nTable dissolved for ever, and all my realm I have so loved is wasted with\nwar. But my time hieth fast, wherefore take thou Excalibur, my good sword,\nand go therewith to yonder water-side and throw it in, and bring me word\nwhat thing thou seest.\"\n\nSo Sir Bedivere departed; but as he went he looked upon the sword, the\nhilt whereof was all inlaid with precious stones exceeding rich. And\npresently he said within himself, \"If I now throw this sword into the\nwater, what good should come of it?\" So he hid the sword among the reeds,\nand came again to the king.\n\n\"What sawest thou?\" said he to Sir Bedivere.\n\n\"Lord,\" said he, \"I saw nothing else but wind and waves.\"\n\n\"Thou hast untruly spoken,\" said the king; \"wherefore go lightly back and\nthrow it in, and spare not.\"\n\nThen Sir Bedivere returned again, and took the sword up in his hand; but\nwhen he looked on it, he thought it sin and shame to throw away a thing so\nnoble. Wherefore he hid it yet again, and went back to the king.\n\n\"What saw ye?\" said King Arthur.\n\n\"Lord,\" answered he, \"I saw nothing but the water ebbing and flowing.\"\n\n\"Oh, traitor and untrue!\" cried out the king; \"twice hast thou now\nbetrayed me. Art thou called of men a noble knight, and wouldest betray me\nfor a jewelled sword? Now, therefore, go again for the last time, for thy\ntarrying hath put me in sore peril of my life, and I fear my wound hath\ntaken cold; and if thou do it not this time, by my faith I will arise and\nslay thee with my hands.\"\n\nThen Sir Bedivere ran quickly and took up the sword, and went down to the\nwater's edge, and bound the girdle round the hilt and threw it far into\nthe water. And lo! an arm and hand came forth above the water, and caught\nthe sword, and brandished it three times, and vanished.\n\nSo Sir Bedivere came again to the king and told him what he had seen.\n\n\"Help me from hence,\" said King Arthur; \"for I dread me I have tarried\nover long.\"\n\nThen Sir Bedivere took the king up in his arms, and bore him to the\nwater's edge. And by the shore they saw a barge with three fair queens\ntherein, all dressed in black, and when they saw King Arthur they wept and\nwailed.\n\n\"Now put me in the barge,\" said he to Sir Bedivere, and tenderly he did\nso.\n\nThen the three queens received him, and he laid his head upon the lap of\none of them, who cried, \"Alas! dear brother, why have ye tarried so long,\nfor your wound hath taken cold?\"\n\nWith that the barge put from the land, and when Sir Bedivere saw it\ndeparting, he cried with a bitter cry, \"Alas! my lord King Arthur, what\nshall become of me now ye have gone from me?\"\n\n\"Comfort ye,\" said King Arthur, \"and be strong, for I may no more help ye.\nI go to the Vale of Avilion to heal me of my grievous wound, and if ye see\nme no more, pray for my soul.\"\n\nThen the three queens kneeled down around the king and sorely wept and\nwailed, and the barge went forth to sea, and departed slowly out of Sir\nBedivere's sight.","title":"The Legends of King Arthur and His Knights","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":93651}