{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_46853/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_46853","id":"gutenberg_46853","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/46853","summary":null,"tags":["Arthurian romances","Category: British Literature","Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Historical Novels","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Novels"],"text":"LE MORTE DARTHUR\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n[Illustration]\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n LE MORTE DARTHUR\n\n\n _Sir Thomas Malory\u2019s Book\n of King Arthur and of his Noble Knights\n of the Round Table_\n\n\n =The Text of Caxton=\n\n _EDITED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION_\n\n BY\n\n SIR EDWARD STRACHEY, BART.\n\n\n Si quando indigenas revocabo in carmina reges,\n Arturumque etiam sub terris bella moventem;\n Aut dicam invictae sociali foedere mensae\n Magnanimos Heroas.\u2014MILTON.\n\n\n\n\n =London=\n MACMILLAN AND CO.\n AND NEW YORK\n 1893\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n Oxford\n\n HORACE HART, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n TO\n\n FRANCES STRACHEY\n\n HER FATHER INSCRIBES THIS BOOK\n\n THE INTRODUCTION TO WHICH\n\n COULD NOT HAVE BEEN NOW RE-WRITTEN\n\n WITHOUT HER HELP\n\n IN MAKING THE EAR FAMILIAR WITH WORDS\n\n WHICH THE EYE CAN NO LONGER READ.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n ADVERTISEMENT TO THE PRESENT EDITION.\n\n\nThe Introduction to the first edition of this volume included an\naccount of the Text in the various editions of Sir Thomas Malory\u2019s\n\u2018Morte Darthur,\u2019 and an attempt to estimate the character and worth of\nhis book. The publication of Dr. Sommer\u2019s edition of the Text and\nProlegomena, demands that I should complete my bibliography by an\naccount of this important work; and it enables me, by help of this\nlearned writer\u2019s new information, to confirm, while enlarging, my\nformer criticism. I have, therefore, revised and re-written the two\nfirst sections of the Introduction. The Essay on Chivalry remains, but\nfor a few verbal changes, as it was first printed.\n\n SUTTON COURT,\n\n _November, 1891_.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n CONTENTS.\n\n\n INTRODUCTION.\n\n \u00a71. THE AUTHORSHIP AND MATTER OF THE BOOK.\n\n PAGE\n\nOrigin of the Book.\u2014Its claim to be called a poem.\u2014Epic in\n plan.\u2014Malory\u2019s use of the old romances.\u2014His History and\n Geography.\u2014Camelot.\u2014Glastonbury.\u2014Almesbury.\u2014Joyous Gard.\u2014The\n Sangreal.\u2014Influence on our language, letters, life.\u2014Morality of\n the Book.\u2014Spenser, Milton, Tennyson.\u2014Malory, Caxton\n\n ix\n\n\n \u00a72. THE TEXT AND ITS SEVERAL EDITIONS.\n\nThe edition of Caxton, 1485.\u2014Those of Wynkyn de Worde, 1498\n and 1529.\u2014Of Copland, 1557.\u2014Of East, without date.\u2014Of\n Stansby, 1634.\u2014Editions of 1816.\u2014Southey\u2019s edition of\n 1817.\u2014Discovery of interpolations in that edition.\u2014Mr.\n Wright\u2019s editions, 1858 and 1866.\u2014Character and object of\n the present edition.\u2014Abridgements.\u2014Extracts.\u2014Dr. Sommer\u2019s\n edition, 1889-91\n\n xxxi\n\n\n \u00a73. AN ESSAY ON CHIVALRY.\n\nOrigin of Chivalry.\u2014Contest of Civilization with Barbarism.\u2014The\n Chevalier and the Knight.\u2014His education.\u2014Amadis and\n Oriana.\u2014The Black Prince.\u2014Birth not essential to\n Knighthood.\u2014The Lady.\u2014Queen Philippa.\u2014Decay of\n Chivalry.\u2014Knights of Malta.\u2014Modern Manners\n\n xxxviii\n\n\n THE BOOK OF KING ARTHUR\n\n\n PREFACE OF WILLIAM CAXTON 1\n\n THE TABLE OR RUBRYSSHE OF THE CONTENTS OF CHAPTERS 3\n\n THE BOOK OF KING ARTHUR, BOOKS I TO XXI 25\n\n NOTES 488\n\n GLOSSARY AND INDEX 493\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n INTRODUCTION.\n\n\n \u00a71. THE AUTHORSHIP AND MATTER OF THE BOOK.\n\n\n ORIGIN OF THE BOOK.\n\nWe owe this our English Epic of Le Morte Darthur to Sir Thomas Malory,\nand to William Caxton the first English printer. Caxton\u2019s Preface shows\n(what indeed would have been certain from his appeal to the \u2018Knights of\nEngland\u2019 at the end of \u2018The Order of Chivalry\u2019) that however strongly\nhe, \u2018William Caxton, simple person,\u2019 may have been urged to undertake\nthe work by \u2018divers gentlemen of this realm of England,\u2019 he was not\nless moved by his own love and reverence for \u2018the noble acts of\nchivalry,\u2019 and his deep sense of his duty and responsibility in\nprinting what he believed would be for the instruction and profit of\nhis readers, \u2018of whatever estate or degree.\u2019 But to Sir Thomas Malory\nhe gives all the honour of having provided him with the copy which he\nprinted. And ever since, for more than four hundred years, successive\ngenerations have approved the fitness of Caxton\u2019s choice. For it is\nMalory\u2019s book, and not the older forms of King Arthur\u2019s story which we\nstill read for enjoyment, and for the illustration of which scholars\nedit those earlier books. Only a true poem, the offspring of genius,\ncould have so held, and be still holding its ground, age after age. It\nmay be said that it is chiefly with boys, and with men who have formed\nthe taste by their boyish reading, that the book is so popular. But is\nnot this so with the Iliad too? Men of mature intellect and taste read\nand re-read the Iliad with ever new discoveries, appreciation, and\nenjoyment; but it may be questioned whether there are many, or even\nany, of them who did not begin those studies at school, and learn to\nlove Homer before they knew that he was worthy of their love. And they\nwho have given most of such reading, in youth and in manhood, to\nMalory\u2019s Morte Darthur will be the most able and ready to recognise its\nclaim to the character of an Epic poem.\n\n\n MALORY A POET.\n\nMalory wrote in prose, but he had \u2018the vision and the faculty divine\u2019\nof the poet, though \u2018wanting the accomplishment of verse\u2019; and, great\nas that want is, we may apply Milton\u2019s test of \u2018simple, sensuous, and\npassionate,\u2019 and we shall find no right to these names more real than\nis Malory\u2019s. Every incident, the description of every event, is\n\u2018simple,\u2019 that is to say, complete in itself, while making a part of\nthe whole story. The story is \u2018sensuous,\u2019 like that of Homer, and as\nevery true poem must be, it is a living succession of concrete images\nand pictures, not of abstractions or generalized arguments and\nreasonings. These are the characteristics of the book, from its opening\nstory of Igraine, which \u2018befell in the days of Uther Pendragon,\u2019 down\nto the death of the last four remaining knights who \u2018went into the Holy\nLand, there as Jesus Christ was quick and dead,\u2019 and there \u2018did many\nbattles upon the miscreants or Turks, and there they died on a Good\nFriday for God\u2019s sake.\u2019 And for \u2018passion,\u2019 for that emotion which the\npoet first feels in a special manner, and then awakens in his hearers,\nthough they could not have originated it in themselves, with the\nadventures of the Round Table and the San Greal, or the deaths of\nArthur, of Guenever, and of Launcelot, we may compare the wrath of\nAchilles, its cause and its consequences, or the leave-taking of Hector\nand Andromache. It would, indeed, be hard to find anywhere a pathos\ngreater than that of Malory\u2019s description of the death or \u2018passing\u2019 of\nArthur, the penitence of Guenever, and her parting with Launcelot, or\nthe lament of Launcelot over the King and Queen, and of Sir Ector over\nLauncelot himself. The first is too long to quote, but I may say that\nMalory has re-cast the old story, and all the poetry is his own. I give\nthe two last:\u2014\n\n \u2018Truly, said Sir Launcelot, I trust I do not displease God, for He\n knoweth mine intent, for my sorrow was not, nor is not, for any\n rejoicing of sin, but my sorrow may never have end. For when I\n remember of her beauty, and of her noblesse, that was both with her\n king and with her; so when I saw his corpse and her corpse so lie\n together, truly mine heart would not serve to sustain my careful\n body. Also when I remember me, how by my default, mine orgule, and\n my pride, that they were both laid full low, that were peerless\n that ever was living of christian people, wit you well, said Sir\n Launcelot, this remembered, of their kindness and mine unkindness,\n sank so to my heart, that I might not sustain myself.\u2019\n\nAnd again:\u2014\n\n \u2018Ah, Launcelot, he said, thou were head of all christian knights;\n and now I dare say, said Sir Ector, thou Sir Launcelot, there thou\n liest, that thou were never matched of earthly knight\u2019s hand; and\n thou were the courtiest knight that ever bare shield; and thou were\n the truest friend to thy lover that ever bestrode horse; and thou\n were the truest lover of a sinful man that ever loved woman; and\n thou were the kindest man that ever strake with sword; and thou\n were the goodliest person ever came among press of knights; and\n thou was the meekest man and the gentlest that ever ate in hall\n among ladies; and thou were the sternest knight to thy mortal foe\n that ever put spear in the rest[1].\u2019\n\nThe former passage is all Malory\u2019s own: the beauty of the latter is\nenhanced, if we set by its side the old version which he follows:\u2014\n\n \u2018Alas, sir [said] Bors, that I was born,\n That ever I should see this indeed,\n The beste knight his life hath lorn,\n That ever in stoure [fight] bestrode a steed,\n Jesu, that crowned was with thorn,\n In heaven his soul foster and feed[2].\u2019\n\nHumour is akin to passion; and it may not be out of place to notice\nhere Malory\u2019s vein of humour, as shown, for instance, in the way in\nwhich he tells the adventures of La Cote Male Taile, and of Beaumains;\nthe pranks of the braver knights with Dinadan and Dagonet; the story of\nArthur\u2019s wedding feast, when a lady who \u2018cried and made great dole,\u2019\nwas forcibly carried out of the hall by a strange knight, and Arthur\n\u2018was glad, for she made such a noise,\u2019 and was thereupon rebuked by\nMerlin for thinking so lightly of his royal and knightly duties; or\nthat of the usurper Mordred and the Bishop of Canterbury, when after\neach had defied the other, the bishop \u2018did the curse in the most\norgulous wise that might be done,\u2019 and then retired to live \u2018in poverty\nand holy prayers, for well he understood that mischievous war was at\nhand.\u2019\n\n\n THE BOOK EPIC IN PLAN.\n\nIn the Drama the action is present, actually unwinding itself and going\non before our eyes. The Epic is the story of the past, a cycle of\nevents completed, while through the one and the other may be traced a\nthread of destiny and providence, leading either to a happy triumph\nover circumstances, or to a tragic doom, which, too, is in the end, a\ntriumph also. Thomas Hughes, the early Elizabethan dramatist, in his\n\u2018Misfortunes of Arthur,\u2019 concentrated and deepened the horror of such a\ntragedy by transferring the guilt of Launcelot to Mordred the son of\nArthur and his unknown sister. He would better have recognised and\nfollowed the finer art of Malory. For though the motive of Malory\u2019s\nepic is less gross and exaggerated than that of Hughes\u2019s drama, the\nthread of guilt and doom which runs from first to last through the\nformer is not less real than in the latter. The crime of Uther\nPendragon, with which the story opens, leads to the concealment of\nArthur\u2019s parentage from himself, and this to his illicit love for her\nwhom he does not know to be his sister, and so to the birth of Mordred.\nThen comes the prophetic doom:\u2014\u2018Ye have done of late a thing that God\nis displeased with you: and your sister shall have a child that shall\ndestroy you and all the knights of your realm.\u2019 Arthur tries in vain to\nprevent the fulfilment of this doom by the only cruel deed of his life:\nand then\u2014after another warning of the woe which his marriage with\nGuinevere will bring on him, through her guilty love for\nLauncelot\u2014these germs of tragic destiny remain hidden through long\nyears of prosperity. Arthur, aided by his fellowship of the Round\nTable, reduces universal anarchy into order: and not only \u2018gets into\nhis hand\u2019 all England, Wales, and Scotland, but by his march to Rome\nmakes himself emperor, and the head of all the kingdoms as well as of\nall the chivalry of Christendom. Still the fame and the honour of the\nking and his knights of the Round Table open continually into new and\nbrighter forms, which seem above the reach of any adverse fate, till\nthe coming of the Sancgreal, into the quest of which all the knights\nenter with that self-reliance which had become them so well in the\nfield of worldly chivalry, but which would be of no avail now. They are\nnow to be tried by other tests than those by which they had been proved\nas \u2018earthly knights and lovers,\u2019 tests which even Launcelot, Ector de\nMaris, Gawaine, and the other chiefest of the fellowship could not\nstand. The quest is achieved by the holy knights alone: two depart from\nthis life to a higher, while Sir Bors, not quite spotless, yet forgiven\nand sanctified, the link between the earthly and the spiritual worlds,\nreturns to aid in restoring the glory of the feasts and tournaments at\nCamelot and Westminster. But the curse is at work: the severance\nbetween good and evil which had been declared through the Sancgreal\ncannot be closed again; and the tragic end comes on, in spite of the\nefforts\u2014touching from their very weakness\u2014of Arthur and Launcelot to\navert the woe, the one by vainly trying to resist temptation, the other\nby refusing to believe evil of his wife and his dearest friend. The\nblack clouds open for a moment as the sun goes down; and we see Arthur\nin the barge which bears him to the Holy Isle; Guenever, the nun of\nAlmesbury, living in fasting, prayers, and almsdeeds; and Launcelot\nwith his fellowship, once knights but now hermit-priests, \u2018doing bodily\nall manner of service.\u2019\n\nNor are the marks of harmony and unity less plain in the several\ncharacters than in the events of the story. Arthur is a true knight,\nsharing the characteristics of his nobler knights, yet he differs from\nthem all in showing also that he is, and feels himself to be, a king;\nas when\u2014with an imperiousness which reminds us of Froissart\u2019s story of\nEdward III refusing to listen to Sir Walter of Manny\u2019s remonstrances on\nbehalf of the burgesses of Calais\u2014he tells Sir Launcelot that he\n\u2018takes no force whom he grieves,\u2019 or insists on his entering the lists\nagainst a tired knight whom he is not willing to see victorious over\nthe whole field; or as when he sadly regrets that he cannot do battle\nfor his wife, though he believes her innocent, but must be a rightful\njudge according to the laws. There are many others of the Round Table\nwho are \u2018very perfect gentle knights, yet we feel that Launcelot stands\ndistinct among them all in the pre-eminence of his knightliness,\nnotwithstanding his one great sin. Thus, to take one of many instances,\nwho but Launcelot would have borne the taunts and the violence of\nGawaine with his humble patience and ever-renewed efforts for a\nreconciliation, when he was leaving the realm, and when he was besieged\nin Joyous Gard. Modern critics of great name agree in censuring Sir\nThomas Malory for departing from the old authorities who represented\nGawaine as the very counterpart of Launcelot in knightly character: but\nI rather see a proof of Malory\u2019s art in giving us a new Gawaine with a\nstrongly individual character of his own. Gawaine\u2019s regard for his\nmother\u2019s honour, his passion for Ettard, and his affection for his\nbrothers, are fierce impulses driving him to unknightly and unworthy\ndeeds, yet he is far from being represented as a mere savage. If Malory\ndepicts him thirsting to revenge upon Launcelot the unintentional\nkilling of Gaheris and Gareth, he depicts also his long previous\naffection for Launcelot and his opposition to the hostility of his\nother brother, Mordred, against him; his devotion to his uncle Arthur;\nhis hearty repentance towards Launcelot at the last; and his entreaty\nthat he would \u2018see his tomb, and pray some prayer more or less for his\nsoul.\u2019 Nor must we forget that it was by the prayer of those ladies for\nwhom Gawaine had \u2018done battle in a rightwise quarrel,\u2019 that his ghost\nwas permitted to give Arthur a last warning. Distinct again from the\ncharacter of this fierce knight is that of the Saracen Palamides, whose\nunquestionable courage and skill in deeds of chivalry also want\u2014though\nin another way than Gawaine\u2019s\u2014the gentleness, the meekness, and the\ndelicate sense of honour of the Christian knight. Sir Dinadan again,\nwho can give and take hard knocks if need be, though he has no great\nbodily strength, and who is always bantering the good knights who know\nand esteem him with his humorous protests against love and arms, is a\ndistinctly drawn character. So is Merlin, half Christian, half\nmagician, but always with dog-like loyalty to the house of Uther\nPendragon. So is the Bishop of Canterbury, who appears at intervals in\nthe story. So are many others whose names I might recite. The dignity\nof queen Guenever towards her husband and her court is not less marked\nthan her guilty passion for Launcelot, and the unreasoning jealousy it\nexcites in her. The wife-like simplicity of Igraine, the self-surrender\nbeyond all limit, though from different impulses, of the two Elaines,\nthe pertness of the damsel Linet, and the piety and self-sacrifice of\nSir Percivale\u2019s sister, will occur to the reader among the distinctive\ncharacteristics of the different ladies and damsels who live and move,\neach in her own proper form, in the story. Sir Thomas Malory, as we\nknow, found many of these men and women already existing in the old\nromances as he represents them to us; but we may believe that those\nearlier books were to him something of what the pages of Plutarch and\nHolinshed were to Shakespeare.\n\n\n MALORY\u2019S USE OF THE OLD ROMANCES.\n\nIt has been too commonly assumed that, because Caxton says that Sir\nThomas Malory took his work \u2018out of certain books of French and reduced\nit into English,\u2019 he was a mere compiler and translator. But the book\nitself shows that he was its author\u2014its \u2018maker,\u2019 as he would have\ncalled it. Notwithstanding his occasionally inartificial manner of\nconnecting the materials drawn from the old romances, there is an epic\nunity and harmony, \u2018a beginning, a middle, and an end,\u2019 which, if they\nhave come by chance and not of design, have come by that chance which\nonly befalls an Homeric or a Shakespeare-like man. If more instances\nand proofs are needed than have been already given, let us turn to the\nopening chapters of the book. If we compare these with the old romances\nwhich supplied the materials for them, we see at once how Malory has\nconverted prose into poetry, giving life and beauty to the clods of\nearth, and transmuting by his art the legends which he yet faithfully\npreserves. For the long and repulsive narrative of Merlin\u2019s origin[3]\nhe substitutes a slight allusion to it: without disguising what he\nprobably believed to be at least an half historical record of Arthur\u2019s\nbirth, he gives a grace and dignity to the story by the charms of the\nmother\u2019s character, the finer touches of which are wanting in the\noriginal: and so through the whole of this part of the story.\n\nTwenty-three years ago, I ventured to assert Malory\u2019s claim to epic\ngenius: and now this claim may be farther tested, and as I think,\nestablished, by help of the learned researches of Dr. Sommer. Of these\nI shall state some details, in speaking of the text and its several\neditions, here giving the result so far as it bears on the present\npoint. We may now see how Malory\u2019s \u2018Morte Darthur\u2019 was fused into its\nactual form out of crude materials of ten times its bulk, and that\nwhile he often translated or transcribed the French or English romances\nas they lay before him, on the other hand he not only re-wrote, in\norder to bring into its present shape the whole story, but also varied\nboth the order and the substance of the incidents that so he might give\nthem that epic character, and that beauty in the details, which his\nbook shows throughout. Malory was no doubt a \u2018finder\u2019 as well as a\n\u2018maker,\u2019 but so, I repeat, was Shakespeare, and so was every other\ngreat poet. But the quarry and the building are not the same thing,\nthough the one supplies the rough stones with which the other is raised\nup. We see that there is much that is rude and inartificial in Malory\u2019s\nart. He has built a great, rambling, medi\u00e6val castle, the walls of\nwhich enclose rude and even ruinous work of earlier times, and not a\nGreek Parthenon nor even an Italian palace of the Renaissance. Still,\nit is a grand pile, and tells everywhere of the genius of its builder.\nAnd I ask, as Carlyle once asked me, Who built St. Paul\u2019s? Was it Wren,\nor the hodman who carried up the bricks? But while supporting my\nconclusions as to Malory\u2019s art by the evidence of Dr. Sommer\u2019s facts,\nit is right to add that the conclusions are my own rather than those of\nthis learned critic. His estimate of Malory\u2019s genius in the choice and\ntreatment of his materials falls far short of mine: and I can believe\nthat Malory may have judged rightly, for his own purpose, when he did\nnot take that form of a legend which was in itself the most beautiful.\n\n\n MALORY\u2019S HISTORY AND GEOGRAPHY.\n\nThe most recent critics are disposed to prefer Hume\u2019s and Gibbon\u2019s\nbelief to Milton\u2019s scepticism as to the actual existence of Arthur. But\nupon this question I do not enter. Malory\u2019s historical chapters, as\nthey may be called, seem to be mainly taken from the _Historia\nBrithonum_ of Geoffrey of Monmouth, though much of them is also to be\nfound in the romances[4]. The details of Arthur\u2019s march to Rome are so\naccurate that I think that Malory may have had actual knowledge of the\nroad, which indeed must have been familiar to many men\u2014soldiers,\npriests, and merchants\u2014in the days of Edward IV. But of the rest of\nthe history and the geography of the book before us we can only say\nthat they are something\n\n \u2018Apart from place, withholding time,\n But flattering the golden prime\u2019\n\nof the great hero of English romance. We cannot bring within any limits\nof history the events which here succeed each other, when the Lords and\nCommons of England, after the death of King Uther at St. Alban\u2019s,\nassembled at the greatest church of London, guided by the joint policy\nof the magician Merlin and the Christian bishop of Canterbury, and\nelected Arthur to the throne; when Arthur made Carlion, or Camelot, or\nboth, his head-quarters in a war against Cornwall, Wales, and the\nNorth, in which he was victorious by help of the king of France; when\nhe met the demand for tribute by the Roman emperor Lucius with a\ncounter-claim to the empire for himself as the real representative of\nConstantine, held a parliament at York to make the necessary\narrangements, crossed the sea from Sandwich to Barflete in Flanders,\nmet the united forces of the Romans and Saracens in Burgundy, slew the\nemperor in a great battle, together with his allies, the Sowdan of\nSyria, the king of Egypt, and the king of Ethiopia, sent their bodies\nto the Senate and Podest\u00e0 of Rome as the only tribute he would pay, and\nthen followed over the mountains through Lombardy and Tuscany to Rome,\nwhere he was crowned emperor by the Pope, \u2018sojourned there a time,\nestablished all his lands from Rome unto France, and gave lands and\nrealms unto his servants and knights,\u2019 and so returned home to England,\nwhere he seems thenceforth to have devoted himself wholly to his duties\nas the head of Christian knighthood.\n\nWith the exception just mentioned, the geography is fanciful enough;\nand we need the magic of Merlin, or of some conjuror-poet like him of\nHorace, to set us with the required disregard of time successively in\nCarleon, Carlisle, Winchester, London, St. Alban\u2019s, and Camelot. The\nstory opens within a night\u2019s ride of the castle of Tintagil. Thence we\npass to St. Alban\u2019s, to London, and to Carlion. This last is, no doubt,\nCaerleon-upon-Usk; but it seems through this, as in other romances, to\nbe interchangeable in the author\u2019s mind with Carlisle, or (as written\nin its Anglo-Norman form) Cardoile, which latter in the History of\nMerlin is said to be in Wales, while elsewhere Wales and Cumberland are\nconfounded in like manner. So of Camelot, where Arthur chiefly held his\ncourt, Caxton in his Preface speaks as though it were in Wales,\nprobably meaning Caerleon, where the Roman amphitheatre is still called\nArthur\u2019s Round Table. Malory himself, though at page 49 he seems to\nconnect Camelot with Avelion, or Glastonbury, yet farther on, page 63,\nsays that Camelot is Winchester, where, too, there is a Round Table,\nmentioned by Caxton, and still to be seen,\u2014an oaken board with the\nknights\u2019 names on it. And yet at the time these authorities wrote\nCamelot itself existed in Somersetshire with its proper name, and with\nall the remains of an important town and fortress, and, doubtless, the\ntraditions of Arthur which Leland found there, and which in great part\nat least remain to this day. Leland calls it Camallate or Camalat,\n\u2018sometime a famous town or castle, upon a very torre or hill,\nwonderfully enstrengthened of nature[5].\u2019 Four ditches and as many\nwalls surrounded a central space of about thirty acres where\nfoundations and remains of walls might be seen, and whence Roman\npavements, urns, coins, and other relics have been found up to the\npresent time. I find it called the Castle of Camellek in maps of the\ndates of 1575 and 1610, and in that of the 1727 edition of Camden\u2019s\nMagna Britannica, the text of which says \u2018the inhabitants call it King\nArthur\u2019s Palace.\u2019 But soon after that date a learned antiquarian[6]\nwrites that the name had been superseded by that of Cadbury Castle,\nwhich trilingual appellation may seem to indicate the Roman, British,\nand Saxon possessors by whom it was probably held in succession. The\nneighbouring villages which, according to Leland, bore \u2018the name of\nCamalat with an addition, as Queen-Camel,\u2019 still exist as Queen-Camel,\nor East Camel, and West Camel, and near by runs the river Camel,\ncrossed by Arthur\u2019s Bridge. Arthur\u2019s well still springs from the hill\nside; and if Arthur\u2019s Hunting Causeway in the field below, Arthur\u2019s\nRound Table and Arthur\u2019s Palace within the camp, cannot still, as of\nold, be pointed out to the visitor, the peasant girl will still tell\nhim that within that charmed circle they who look may see through\ngolden gates a king sitting in the midst of his court. Drayton\ndescribes the river Ivel in Somersetshire as\n\n \u2018The nearest neighbouring flood to Arthur\u2019s ancient seat,\n Which made the Britaines name thro\u2019 all the world so great.\n Like Camelot what place was ever yet renown\u2019d?\n Where, as at Caerleon, oft he kept the Table Round,\n Most famous for the sports at Pentecost so long,\n From whence all knightly deeds and brave atchievements sprong[7].\u2019\n\nThese old legendary traditions, pleasant to hear or to know of, have\nbeen collected by another Somersetshire antiquarian, the late Rev. J.\nH. Bennett, Rector of South Cadbury[8]. Together with the legends told\nby Leland and others, and those which he himself gathered on the spot,\nMr. Bennett has given a carefully detailed topographical description of\nthe old town and fortress of Camelot, strong by nature and strengthened\nby art, where the Britons made their last stand against the Saxons; and\nhe has shewn how its strategical position was connected, in fact as\nwell as in romance, with the Isle of Avallon, the Monastery of\nGlastonbury, and the Nunnery of Almesbury. He thinks that during the\nhundred years which followed the taking of Sarum by the Saxons A. D.\n551, during which (except in the capture of Bath in 577 A. D.) they\nmade no further progress in the conquest of Somersetshire, Camelot\nbecame the capital of the South British kingdoms, and stemmed the tide\nof war in this direction by its great line of strongholds; and he thus\nsuggests that we may have here the historical circumstances which\nconnected or helped to connect, the legends of the great British hero\nwith Camelot. Leland, who wrote his _Itinerary_ early in Henry VIII\u2019s\nreign, mentions, among other relics found at Camelot, a silver\nhorseshoe, and Mr. Bennett gives us the words of one of the Cadbury\npeasants who told him \u2018folks do say that on the night of the full moon\nKing Arthur and his men ride round the hill, and their horses are shod\nwith silver, and a silver shoe has been found in the track where they\ndo ride, and when they have ridden round the hill they stop to water\ntheir horses at the wishing well.\u2019 But more than three hundred years\nbefore Leland wrote, this still living legend had been recorded by\nGervase of Tilbury, who, in his _Otia Imperialia_ (date about 1212)\nsays that in the woods of Britain the foresters, as the common people\ncall the keepers of the woods and wild game, tell that on alternate\ndays, about noon, or at midnight when the moon is full and shining,\nthey often see an array of hunters with dogs and sound of horns, who,\nin answer to the enquirers, say that they are of the household and\nfellowship of Arthur. And, what is still more curious, Gervase, in the\nsame place, gives a legend of Arthur, of Mount Etna, which singularly\ncorresponds with that just mentioned as still living among the mounds\nof ancient Camelot. He tells that the horse of the Bishop of Catania\nhad run away from his groom, and when the groom was following him up\nthe precipitous side of the mountain, he came upon an open place where\nwas the Great Arthur, resting upon a couch. Arthur ordered the horse to\nbe brought back and restored to the bishop, sent him presents, and\nrelated how he had lain there, all those years, suffering from wounds\nhe had received in the battle with his nephew Mordred, and Childeric\nthe leader of the Saxons[9]. The British story of Arthur and the\nKnights of the Round Table had spread through Italy by the side of the\nFrench romances of Roland and Charlemagne[10] but this curious transfer\nof an incident from Camelot in Somersetshire, to Mount Etna in Sicily\nseems as if it must have been due to some Norman troubadour who had\nactually passed from one land to the other, and given the proper local\ncolouring to the story in its new home as the bee carries fertility\nfrom one garden to another. Scotland, too, among the stories by which\nshe claimed her part in Arthur and his knights, had a tale how \u2018Arthour\nKnycht he raid on nycht with gylten spur and candel lycht[11].\u2019\n\nLegend tells that Glastonbury\u2014founded by Joseph of Arimathea, and his\nburial-place, though his body was vainly sought in Edward III\u2019s\nreign\u2014possesses the coffin of Arthur. It is said that Henry II found\nthe bodies of Arthur and Guenever there, and that Guenever had yellow\nhair. Their skulls were afterwards taken for relics by Edward\nLongshanks and Eleanor.\n\nAlmesbury, where Guenever died a nun, is a town in Wiltshire, seven and\na half miles from Salisbury, where may still be seen the ruins of its\ncelebrated abbey. The name was originally Ambrosebury, then Ambresbury,\nand lastly Amesbury, as it is now spelt.\n\nThe ruins of the castle of Tintagil, too, may still be seen in Cornwall.\n\nJoyous Gard, Launcelot\u2019s favourite castle, is sometimes identified with\nBerwick. Malory tells us that \u2018some men say it was Anwick, and some men\nsay it was Bamborow.\u2019 Bamborow, or Bamborough, is in Northumberland,\nsixteen miles southeast of Berwick. The castle, founded in the middle\nof the sixth century, which is the supposed time of Arthur\u2019s reign,\nstands on a high rock projecting into the North Sea. It now contains a\ngranary, hospital, and other endowments made for the poor in 1715 by\nLord Crewe, bishop of Durham. Did he think of his predecessor\nLauncelot, and his doles of \u2018flesh, fish, wine and ale, and twelve\npence to any man and woman, come who would?\u2019\n\nThe names of some other places in this book are given in the Glossary.\n\n\n THE SANGREAL.\n\nLet us turn to the Sangreal, or Holy Grail, the Quest of which forms so\nimportant a part of Malory\u2019s book. The word \u2018Grail\u2019 means a dish, a\ndrinking vessel, or a tureen, in the Romance language, and is probably\nderived from the Low Latin \u2018gradalis\u2019 or \u2018grasalis\u2019; and this from the\nGreek \u2018crater\u2019: and the old writers describe it sometimes as a shallow\nvessel for holding food, and sometimes as a cup[12]. The legend of the\nGrail is traced back to Pagan times, where it appears as a miraculously\nfood-producing vessel, of which we perhaps see a survival in the coming\nof the Sangreal to Launcelot and King Pelles, and at the feast of\nPentecost which led to the Quest:\u2014\n\n\u2018Then there entered into the hall the holy Grail covered with white\nsamite, but there was none might see it, nor who bare it. And there was\nall the hall full filled with good odours, and every knight had such\nmeats and drinks as he best loved in this world: and when the holy\nGrail had been borne through the hall, then the holy vessel departed\nsuddenly, that they wist not where it became.\u2019\n\nBut in the Christian form into which the legend passed, the Grail\nbecame either the dish which held the paschal lamb at the Last Supper,\nthe vessel in which Joseph of Arimathea had received the Saviour\u2019s\nblood, or the sacramental cup itself. Mr. Alfred Nutt has treated the\nwhole subject with exhaustive learning in his \u2018Studies of the Legend of\nthe Holy Grail,\u2019 and his article \u2018Grail, the Holy\u2019 in Chambers\u2019\nEncyclopaedia. But when I say that one only of the many stories of\nwhich Mr. Nutt gives an account is a poem of 60,000 verses, I shall not\nbe expected to attempt any summary of his book. I shall content myself\nwith the more popular account of the Sangreal, in its immediate\nrelation to Malory\u2019s Morte Darthur. According to the romances of Le S.\nGraal, Lancelot du Lac, Perceforest, and Morte Arthur, the Sangreal, or\nHoly Graal, was the dish which held the paschal lamb of the Last\nSupper. Joseph of Arimathea having gone into the house where the Supper\nhad been eaten, took away the dish, and in it received the blood from\nthe wounds of Jesus; and this dish, \u2018with part of the blood of our\nLord,\u2019 he brought with him into England, and with it converted many\nheathens; and it was kept in a tower expressly built for it at\nCorbenicy. The romance of Merlin says that \u2018this vessel was brought to\nthis said knight [Joseph of Arimathea] by our Lord Jesu Christ while he\nwas in prison xl. winter, him to comfort,\u2019 but does not mention its\nearlier history.\n\nWhen Caxton replied to the \u2018noble and divers gentlemen of this realm of\nEngland\u2019 who urged him to print the history of Arthur, that many\npersons held the opinion that there was no such Arthur, \u2018one in\nspecial\u2019 insisted that this was mere blindness, since Arthur\u2019s\nsepulchre was to be seen at Glastonbury, Gawaine\u2019s skull at Dover, the\nRound Table at Winchester, as well as many other relics. And if this\nnoble gentleman had only known it, he might have added that the Holy\nGrail itself was to be seen in the Cathedral Church of Genoa. There it\nis still shewn. It is an hexagonal dish, about seventeen inches across,\nand was long supposed to be a single emerald, which stone it resembles\nin colour and brilliancy. It is called \u2018Sagro Catino,\u2019 with a tradition\nwhich makes it to be the Holy Grail we have just described, and with\nthe addition that it was brought to Solomon by the Queen of Sheba. It\nwas taken, on the capture of Caesarea, by the Genoese under Guglielmo\nEmbriaco in 1101 A. D. Like the other plunder of Italian cities it was\ntaken to Paris by Napoleon I, and restored after the peace of 1815, but\nwas broken in pieces on the road from careless packing. It is now kept\ntogether by a wire frame: and when I saw it in the Cathedral treasury a\nfew years since I was gravely told that it was broken in its return\nfrom the Paris \u2018Exposition\u2019 of Napoleon III[13].\n\n\n INFLUENCE OF THE BOOK ON ENGLISH LETTERS AND LIFE.\n\nThe influence of Sir Thomas Malory\u2019s book upon English literature, and\nso upon English life, upon our thoughts, morals, and manners, has been\ngreat and important. I have spoken of its claims to be considered an\nEpic poem; but it is not the less true, that it is our first great work\nof English prose, the first in which the writing of prose was shown to\nbe one of the fine arts for England. Malory\u2019s style is often\ninartificial: he is not always able to master the huge masses of his\nmaterials, and fails to fuse and mould them into a perfect whole. But\nwe must confess the like of Milton, whose grand periods of magnificent\nEnglish are often followed by others which are confused and cumbrous in\nform, if not in thought. It has taken many workmen, through many\ngenerations, to make our prose writing what it is: but there is an\ninfant beauty in Malory\u2019s style which is full of promise of the perfect\nmanly form that is to be. The passages which I have already quoted are\ninstances of this inartificial beauty of style. The thoughts and images\nspontaneously utter themselves in words without any attempt at\nrhetorical balance and arrangement. Thus in the lament of Sir Ector\nover Sir Launcelot, Malory does not ask himself whether there is a\nlogical connection between courtesy and bearing a shield, or between\ntrue friendship and bestriding a horse, as a modern writer would have\ndone, and so brought those sentences into a more finished though more\nmonotonous correspondence with the rest. The flow of feeling is true,\ndirect, and simple, and that is enough. Dr. Sommer, in his notes on the\nlanguage of \u2018Le Morte Darthur,\u2019 points to the indications, in grammar,\nspelling, and other usages of words, of its transitional place between\nthe language of Chaucer and that of Shakespeare; while Southey says\nthat it was composed in the best possible time for making it what it\nis: and Mr. J. A. Symonds (whom I am permitted to name) says:\u2014\u2018The\nMorte Darthur was written at a lucky moment in our literary history,\nwhen the old Saxon fountain of speech was yet undefiled, and when\nprinting had not introduced stereotyped forms or enforced the laws of a\ntoo scrupulous grammar; at the same time the language is truly\nEnglish\u2014rich in French and Latin words, as well as Saxon, and not so\narchaic as to be grotesque or repulsive[14].\n\nAnd if in these things Malory was happy in the opportuneness of the\ntimes in which he wrote, not less was he so in that he lived in a day\nin which (as we see from Caxton\u2019s Preface) men could still believe in\nthe marvellous adventures of knight-errantry. A hundred years later,\nthe spirit of chivalry had so departed from the old forms that Spenser\ncould only use them as materials for allegory, while Cervantes, himself\nfull of the old spirit, could only treat the belief in knight-errantry\nas the fantasy of a crazed though generous mind. But Malory was still\nable to embody the ideals of chivalry in actual and serious personages,\nand so to influence the national character and manners of his\ncountrymen in the best way. His book is a possession for all times. The\nold stock is still putting out new leaves and fruits for ourselves.\n\n\n THE MORALITY OF THE BOOK.\n\nIn morals as well as in language (though more obscurely, since the\nsubject of morals is so much more complicated than that of philology),\nwe may find signs of a transition from the times of Chaucer to those of\nShakespeare, and of progress no less than transition. The suppression\nof the Lollards\u2014hated alike by the Church and the feudal lords, the\nWar of the Roses, and the licentiousness of the court and courtiers,\nmust, in the days of Edward IV, in which Malory wrote, have cut the\nmoral and social life of the country down to its roots. Yet even in\nMalory\u2019s book there are signs of the new moral life which was coming,\nand which in the days of the Reformation reached a power and expansion\nnever before known. It would be absurd to pretend that Malory had\ngreatly advanced in morality from the position of Chaucer and his age\ntowards that of the Elizabethan period. Roger Ascham, indeed, while\nadmitting that \u2018ten Morte Arthurs do not the tenth part so much harm as\none of these books made in Italy and translated in England,\u2019 protests\nagainst the demoralising effect of the literature of which he takes\nthis book as the example, \u2018the whole pleasure of which,\u2019 he says,\n\u2018standeth in two special points\u2014in open manslaughter and bold bawdray.\nIn which book those be counted the noblest knights that do kill most\nmen without any quarrel, and commit foulest adulteries by subtlest\nshifts[15].\u2019 I remember Dante\u2019s story of the sin and doom of Paolo and\nFrancesca\u2014\n\n \u2018Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse\u2019\u2014\n\nand recognise a real though only half truth in Ascham\u2019s strictures. But\nhe greatly over-states the evil, while he altogether omits to recognise\nthe good in the book. Caxton\u2019s estimate of the moral purport of the\nwhole book, gives not merely the other side, but both sides of the\ncase. Much more than half the \u2018open manslaughter\u2019 is done in putting\ndown cruel oppressors and bringing back kingdoms from anarchy to law\nand good government; and the occasions call forth all the knightly\nvirtues of gentleness, forbearance, and self-sacrifice, as well as\nthose of courage and hardihood. And though it is far from possible to\ndeny the weight of Ascham\u2019s other charge, yet we must not, in forming\nour estimate of the book, forget the silent yet implied judgment which\nis passed upon lawless love by its tragic end, nor the ideal presented\nin the lives of the maiden knights, Sir Galahad and Sir Percivale. For\nthe purpose of a due estimate of Malory\u2019s \u2018Morte Darthur,\u2019 we may\nfairly take Caxton\u2019s Preface as an integral part of the book. The\nPreface gives the tone, the motive, to the whole book. The morality of\n\u2018Morte Darthur\u2019 is low in one essential thing, and this alike in what\nit says and in what it omits: and Lord Tennyson shows us how it should\nbe raised. The ideal of marriage, in its relation and its contrast with\nall other forms of love and chastity, is brought out in every form,\nrising at last to tragic grandeur, in the _Idylls of the King_. It is\nnot in celibacy, though spiritual and holy as that of Galahad or\nPercivale, but in marriage, as the highest and purest realisation of\nthe ideal of human conditions and relations, that we are to rise above\nthe temptations of a love like that of Launcelot or even of Elaine; and\nMalory\u2019s book does not set this ideal of life before us with any power\nor clearness. In no age or country has the excellence of marriage, as\nthe highest condition of man\u2019s life, been wholly unknown: but Luther\nand the Reformation brought it first into the full light of day, when\nhe, a monk, married a nun, and thus in the name of God, declared that\nthe vows of marriage were more sacred and more binding than those of\nthe convent, and that the one might be lawfully set aside by the other.\nAnd we know how this ideal of love in marriage is worked out by\nShakespeare. With Shakespeare it is marriage which explains, justifies,\nforgives, glorifies, and blesses every prosperous and happy condition\nof life, and gives an abiding peace as well as dignity to the closing\nscenes of his deepest tragedies. Marriage not only sheds its radiance\nupon the loves of Ferdinand and Miranda, and of Rosalind and Orlando,\nbut on all around them: marriage justifies the boldness of Helena as\nthe love of Elaine, touching as its self-surrender is, cannot do: it\nsecures forgiveness to the weak and foolish Leontes, and even to the\nworthless Angelo; it is to the husband of Desdemona that we find\nourselves constrained to accord the pardon and the sympathy which she\nherself had given him. And no one will know Hamlet as he is, nor fully\nunderstand his tragic destiny, unless he sees what it might have been,\nas his mother saw it, when she exclaims:\u2014\n\n \u2018Sweets to the sweet, farewell!\n I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet\u2019s wife;\n I thought thy bridal bed to have deck\u2019d, sweet maid,\n And not have strew\u2019d thy grave.\u2019\n\nBut this is Shakespeare\u2019s Ophelia, not the preposterous misconception\nof Tieck and Goethe, who should have been warned by Polonius not \u2018to\ncast beyond themselves in their opinions.\u2019\n\nIf Morte Arthur does not deserve the unqualified denunciation of the\nlearned Ascham, it cannot be denied that it exhibits a picture of a\nsociety far lower than our own in morals, and depicts it with far less\nrepugnance to its evil elements, on the part either of the author or\nhis personages, than any good man would now feel. Still\u2014with the\nexception of stories like those of the birth of Arthur and Galahad,\nwhich show not only another state of manners from our own, but also a\nreally different standard of morals from any which we should now hold\nup\u2014the writer does for the most part endeavour, though often in but an\nimperfect and confused manner, to distinguish between vice and virtue,\nand honestly to reprobate the former; and thus shows that his object is\nto recognize and support the nobler elements of the social state in\nwhich he lived, and to carry them towards new triumphs over the evil.\nAnd even where, as in the story of Tristram, there is palliation rather\nthan reprobation of what Sir Walter Scott justly calls \u2018the extreme\ningratitude and profligacy of the hero,\u2019 still the fact that such\npalliation, by representing King Mark as the most worthless of men, was\nthought necessary in the later, though not in the earlier, romance on\nthe same subject, shows an upward progress in morals; while a real\neffort to distinguish virtue from vice is to be seen in the story of\nLauncelot, with his sincere though weak struggles against temptation,\nand his final penitence under the punishment of the woes which his\nguilt has brought on all dear to him as well as to himself. Or if we\nlook at the picture which Chaucer\u2019s works give us of the co-existence\nin one mind\u2014and that one of the noblest of its age\u2014of the most\nvirtuous Christian refinement and the most brutish animal coarseness,\nand then see how in the pages of Malory, inferior as we must hold him\nto be to Chaucer, the brutish vice has dwindled to half its former\nsize, and is far more clearly seen to be vice, while the virtue, if not\nmore elevated in itself, is more avowedly triumphant over the evil, we\nfind the same upward progress. And I cannot doubt that it was helped on\nby this book, and that notwithstanding Ascham\u2019s condemnation of Morte\nArthur, Caxton was right in believing that he was serving God and his\ncountrymen by printing it; and that he justly estimated its probable\neffect when he says, \u2018Herein may be seen noble chivalry, courtesy,\nhumanity, friendliness, hardiness, love, friendship, cowardice, murder,\nhate, virtue, sin. Do after the good, and leave the evil, and it shall\nbring you to good fame and renomm\u00e9e.... All is written for our\ndoctrine, and for to beware that we fall not to vice nor sin, but to\nexercise and follow virtue, by which we may come and attain to good\nfame and renomm\u00e9 in this life, and after this short and transitory life\nto come unto everlasting bliss in heaven; the which He grant us that\nreigneth in heaven, the blessed Trinity. Amen.\u2019\n\n\n SPENSER, MILTON, TENNYSON.\n\nIt can hardly be doubted that Spenser, while drawing largely from\nGeoffrey of Monmouth, was acquainted with Malory\u2019s story of Arthur, if\nnot with the earlier romances also. We might have known this with\ncertainty, if Spenser had completed his great design which he sketched\nin his letter to Sir Walter Raleigh, prefixed to the first three books\nof the _Faerie Queene_, and after labouring \u2018to pourtrait in Arthur\nbefore he was king, the image of a brave knight, perfected in the\ntwelve Morall Vertues,\u2019 he might have been \u2018perhaps encouraged to frame\nthe other part of Politick Vertues in his person, after that he came to\nbe King.\u2019 He farther identifies his hero as the son of the Lady\nIgraine, and the infant charge of Merlin, and his description of the\nRedcross Knight and his claim to the adventure of Una, must forcibly\nrecall Malory\u2019s story of Beaumains and the lady Linet, notwithstanding\nthe differences between the two. Beyond this, there is the evidence of\ngeneral literary probability. Spenser\u2019s ideals of knighthood and\nknight-errantry are so much in harmony with those of Malory, while they\nrise into a far higher moral life, that it does not seem unreasonable\nto suppose a relation between the two, and to believe that we owe to\nMalory the transmission from the earlier romances of all that was worth\npreserving in these to the generation which could give birth to the\n_Faerie Queene_.\n\nAnd while Spenser strove to carry forward the national life of his\ncountrymen by presenting the noblest ideals of chivalry under the old\nforms of romance, Shakespeare was embodying them in the new forms\ndestined thenceforth to take the place of the old, and showing us in a\nFerdinand, a Prince Henry, or a Hamlet, the ideals of the _Gentleman_,\nwhile the Sydneys and the Raleighs were presenting the counterpart in\nactual life. Ben Jonson, too, though he makes fun of \u2018the whole sum of\nErrant Knighthood\u2019 in his _Execration upon Vulcan_, elsewhere describes\nthe old training of pages and squires in chivalry, as \u2018the noblest way\nof breeding up our youth in all the blazon of a gentleman.\u2019\n\nOf Milton\u2019s debt to Malory there is no less probability. He no doubt\nknew the other legends of Arthur, but Malory\u2019s book must surely have\nhad some part in taking that hold on his imagination, and exercising\nthat influence in the formation of his character and life, of which he\nhimself tells us. In his poem addressed to Giovanni Battista Manso,\nMarquis of Villa, the friend of Tasso, and of himself when he visited\nNaples, he says:\u2014\n\n \u2018O mihi si mea sors talem concedat amicum;\n Phoebaeos decorasse viros qui tam bene n\u00f4rit,\n Si quando indigenas revocabo in carmina reges,\n Arturumque etiam sub terris bella moventem;\n Aut dicam invictae sociali foedere mensae\n Magnanimos Heroas, et (O modo spiritus adsit)\n Frangam Saxonicas Britonem sub Marte phalanges.\u2019\u2014_Mansus_ 78[16].\n\nThe like hope and purpose of writing an Epic poem of British story is\nto be found in the _Epitaphium Damonis_. And in his defence of his life\nin the \u2018Apology for Smectymnuus,\u2019 he says:\u2014\n\n\u2018Next, (for hear me out now, readers), that I may tell ye whither my\nyounger feet wandered; I betook me among those lofty fables and\nromances, which recount in solemn cantos the deeds of knighthood\nfounded by our victorious kings, and from thence had in renown over all\nchristendom. There I read it in the oath of every knight, that he\nshould defend to the expence of his best blood, or of his life, if it\nso befel him, the honour and chastity of virgin or matron; from whence\neven then I learned what a noble virtue chastity sure must be, to the\ndefence of which so many worthies, by such a dear adventure of\nthemselves, had sworn; and if I found in the story afterward, any of\nthem, by word or deed breaking that oath, I judged it the same fault of\nthe poet, as that which is attributed to Homer, to have written\nindecent things of the gods; only this my mind gave me, that every free\nand gentle spirit, without that oath, ought to be born a knight, nor\nneeded to expect the gilt spur, or the laying of a sword upon his\nshoulder to stir him up both by his counsel and his arms, to secure and\nprotect the weakness of any attempted chastity. So that even these\nbooks, which to many others have been the fuel of wantonness and loose\nliving; I cannot think how, unless by divine indulgence, proved to me\nso many incitements, as you have heard, to the love and steadfast\nobservation of virtue.\u2019\n\nIn a word, not the fears of Ascham but the hopes of Caxton were now\nfulfilled in Milton\u2019s study of the old romances.\n\nAnd though it were idle and mistaken to wish that the poet had finally\nchosen the Death of Arthur rather than Paradise Lost, the lovers of the\nstory of the Round Table may be forgiven if they wish it were possible\nto call up him who left untold that story as it would have been seen in\nthe light of his genius.\n\nSuch a transformation has, indeed, been effected for us by Lord\nTennyson in his _Idylls of the King_. He who has been familiar with the\nold Morte Arthur from his boyhood, must consent to let the poet\ntransport him into a quite new region of the imagination, and must in a\nmanner and for the time forget the old before he can read the _Idylls\nof the King_ without a somewhat sad feeling that these are not the old\nknights whom he has always known. I have already likened Malory\u2019s work\nto a medi\u00e6val castle, and, if I may be allowed to vary my parable a\nlittle, I would say this: There are some of us who in their childhood\nlived in, or can at least remember, some old house, with its tower and\nturret stairs, its hall with the screen, and the minstrel\u2019s gallery,\nand the armour where it was hung up by him who last wore it: the\npanelled chambers, the lady\u2019s bower, and the chapel, and all the quaint\nrambling passages and steps which lead from one to another of these.\nAnd when in after years he comes to this same house, and finds that it\nhas all been remodelled, enlarged, furnished and beautified to meet the\nneeds and the tastes of modern life, he feels that this is not the very\nhome of his childhood, and that a glory has departed from the scenes he\nonce knew: and yet, if the changes have been made with true judgment,\nand only with a rightful recognition of the claim that the modern life\nshould have full scope for itself while preserving all that was\npossible of the old, though not letting itself be sacrificed or even\ncramped and limited, for its sake: if he is thus reasonable, he will\nacknowledge that it was well that the old order should yield place to\nthe new, or at least make room for it at its side. And such are the\nthoughts and sentiments with which the lover of the old Morte Arthur\nwill, if he be also a student of the growth of our national character\nand life, read the new _Idylls of the King_.\n\n\n SIR THOMAS MALORY.\n\nOf Sir Thomas Malory himself we know nothing more than can be inferred\nby probable conjecture from his book. His name occurs in it three\ntimes, and with the three variations of Malorye, Malory, and Maleore.\nThese variations are not singular, for the spelling of proper as well\nas of common names was very much at the fancy of the writer; and we\nknow that Shakespeare, Marvell, and Pym, wrote their own names in\nvarious forms. Sir Thomas Malory tells us that his book was ended in\nthe ninth year of the reign of Edward IV, or 1470 A.D.; and at that\ntime there was an old and important Yorkshire family of the name at\nHutton Coniers and High Studley, near Ripon; for Leland, early in the\nnext century, speaks of the ancestors of Malory[17], and in 1427 and\n1472 the death or burial of two persons of the same name is recorded at\nRipon[18]. Andrew Mallorie of Middlesex _armiger_ is among the\ncontributors to the funds for defence against the Spanish Armada\n(1588)[19]. At the beginning of the seventeenth century we find Sir\nJohn Mallory of Studley, and son of Sir William Mallory, M.P. for\nThirsk and Ripon, and a subscriber to the second Virginia Charter[20]:\nin 1622 Burton speaks of the pedigree, arms, and lands of Sir Thomas\nMalory in Kirby-Malory, Winwick, Newbould, and Swinford in\nLeicestershire[21]; and about the same time two scholars of the name\nwere elected to Winchester College[22]; and reasonable conjecture may\nconnect our author with these Malorys, although no links of actual\npedigree have been found.\n\nThe _Biographia Britannica_ (article \u2018Caxton\u2019) says:\u2014\n\n\u2018If this Sir Thomas Malory was a Welshman, as Leland and others after\nhim assert, he was probably a Welsh Priest; as appears not only by the\nlegendary vein which runs through all the stories he has thus extracted\nand wove together, but by his conclusion of the work itself, in these\nwords: \u201cPray for me, whyle I am on lyve, that God sende me good\ndelyveraunce; and when I am deed, I praye you all, praye for my soule;\nfor this booke was ended the 9th yeer of the reygne of Kyng Edward the\nFourth, by Syr Thomas Maleore, Knyght, as Jesu helpe him for his grete\nmyght, as he is the _servaunte_ of Jesu, bothe day and nyght.\u201d\u2019\n\nBut no references are given as to where this supposed assertion by\n\u2018Leland and others\u2019 is to be found; in fact, it is not to be found in\nany of Leland\u2019s writings. And the origin of the statement remained an\nunexplained puzzle, until Dr. Sommer has now apparently discovered the\nkey to it in a passage which he quotes from Bale\u2019s _Illustrium Maioris\nBritanni\u00e6 Scriptorum_, &c., first edition, folio 208. In this passage,\nBale, after praising Thomas Mailorius and his history of King Arthur,\ngoes on to say, \u2018_Est Mailoria in finibus Cambri\u00e6 regio_,\u2019 on the\nauthority of Leland[23]. I have not myself verified these references,\nbut I infer from what Dr. Sommer tells us, that Bale, perhaps writing\nfrom an imperfect recollection, supposed that he had the authority of\nLeland for a connection between Mailorius, and the Welsh place of the\nlike name: and then the writer of the _Biographia Britannica_, still\nmore inaccurately, converted the possible suggestion of Bale into the\ndirect statement that Leland had asserted Malory to be a Welshman,\nwhile Bale himself is referred to as \u2018the others.\u2019 Nor is there any\nreason to suppose from Malory\u2019s own book that he was a Welshman. Though\nCaxton tells us that there were books in Welsh about Arthur and his\nKnights, Malory never quotes any but the French and English books. He\nshows no acquaintance with Welsh legends or traditions, unless it be\nwith those in Geoffrey of Monmouth, who wrote in Latin, nor of any\nlocal knowledge of Welsh places. Then as to the fanciful and\ninconsequent conjecture that he was a priest, he himself tells us that\nhe was a knight, and thus implies that he was not a priest, while the\nwords that \u2018he is the servant of Jesu by day and by night,\u2019 which\nsuggested the notion that he was a priest, are evidently put into that\nform in order to give a rhythmical ending to the book. Nor did the\npriest\u2019s usual title of \u2018Sir\u2019 make him a knight. What we may say of Sir\nThomas Malory is that he was probably of an old English family: that he\nwas a knight both in rank and in temper and spirit, and a lover alike\nof the gentle and the soldierly virtues of knighthood. He was a man of\ngenius, and a devout Christian: he wrote for gentlewomen as well as\ngentlemen, believing that they would read his book \u2018from the beginning\nto the ending,\u2019 and that it would call forth in them a sympathy which\nwould properly express itself in prayers for the pious writer.\n\n\n WILLIAM CAXTON.\n\nOf William Caxton we know more. A native of Kent, he became an\napprentice, freeman, and livery man of the London Guild of Mercers, and\nwas for many years resident in the English factory at Bruges, which was\nunder their chief authority, though it represented and controlled all\nEnglish trading interests in the Low Countries. Such factories were the\nusual, and indeed essential means of carrying on trade with foreign\nnations in the Middle Ages. Thus charters were granted by Henry IV and\nhis successors to \u2018Merchant Adventurers\u2019 trading in Flanders, which, in\ngiving them a corporate character, enabled them to treat with the\nauthorities of the country more effectually than would have been\npossible to private individuals, and also to exercise needful control\nover, and give protection to, their own countrymen in the place. Though\nthese Merchant Adventurers included many of the City Guilds, the\nmajority were Mercers, and the factory at Bruges, while called \u2018the\nEnglish Nation,\u2019 and its house \u2018the English House,\u2019 was practically\nunder the management of the London Mercers\u2019 Guild. Mr. Blades has given\nan engraving from _Flandria Illustrata_ of the \u2018Domus Anglorum\u2019 at\nBruges as it was in Caxton\u2019s time; and he thus describes the mode of\nlife of its inhabitants:\u2014\n\n \u2018A great similarity prevailed in the internal management of all\n foreign guilds, arising from the fact that foreigners were regarded\n by the natives with jealousy and suspicion. The laws which governed\n the Esterlings in London, who lived in a strongly-built enclosure,\n called the Steel Yard, the site of which is now occupied by the\n City station of the South Eastern Railway Company, were much the\n same as those under which the English Nation lived in Bruges and\n other cities. The foreign merchant had, in Caxton\u2019s time, to brave\n a large amount of popular dislike, and to put up with great\n restraints on his liberty. Not only did he trade under harassing\n restrictions, but he resigned all hopes of domestic ties and family\n life. As in a monastery, each member had his own dormitory, whilst\n at meal-times there was a common table. Marriage was out of the\n question, and concubinage was followed by expulsion. Every member\n was bound to sleep in the house, and to be in-doors by a fixed time\n in the evening, and for the sake of good order no woman of any\n description was allowed within the walls[24].\u2019\n\nTo this house of the English in Bruges Caxton went to live in the year\n1441, being then probably about twenty years of age. In 1462 he was\nacting as \u2018Governor of the English Nation in the Low Countries,\u2019 and\ncertainly in full possession of that office and title two or three\nyears later. And in 1465 he was appointed by Edward IV one of two\nenvoys with the title of Ambassadors, to negociate a renewal of the\nexisting treaty of trade with the Duke of Burgundy. We do not know at\nwhat time he began to combine his literary studies or his acquaintance\nwith the new art of printing with the prosecution of his official\nduties: but he tells us that in 1471, at the request of Margaret,\nsister of Edward IV and wife of the Duke of Burgundy, he completed his\ntranslation of the _Recuyell of the Histories of Troye_ which he had\nbegun, but laid aside unfinished some time before. And then, in order\nto meet the desire of many friends to have copies of this translation,\nhe printed such copies for their use.\n\nHe was now in the service of Margaret, and married; and about the year\n1476, after thirty-five years\u2019 residence abroad, he returned to\nEngland, there to introduce the Printing Press, and to make himself\nfamous to all ages by so doing. Caxton was not only a printer, but a\ntranslator, an editor, and the publisher of the books which he printed\nin unfailing succession, during the remaining fifteen years of his\nlife. He was the first of that honourable order of publishers who from\nhis day to our own still share with authors the gratitude of men for\nthat inestimable boon, the Printed Book. There are still publishers\namong us who, like Caxton, are themselves authors and editors of no\nunimportant ability: and not only to them, but also to those who aspire\nonly to be the publishers of other men\u2019s books, do we owe\u2014what even\nthe art of printing could have done little towards giving us\u2014that\nbroad spreading[25] of knowledge which has become to us like the common\nlight of day in which we live and move, only half conscious of its\nblessings. Mr. Blades justly defends Caxton against Gibbon\u2019s censure of\nhim because he did not print the ancient classics. He did far better.\nHe printed and published translations from those classics for men who\ncould not read the originals; and it was surely no loss, but the\ngreatest gain, to Englishmen that he enabled them to read Chaucer\u2019s\n_Canterbury Tales_ and the _Polychronicon of English History_ (which\nlatter he carried down to his own time) rather than if he had printed\nVirgil and Livy in the original Latin. He laid the foundations of\npopular English literature in the best possible way. He taught his\ncountrymen to read, by giving them a large and judiciously selected\nsuccession, year by year, of books which they could and would read. He\ngave them books of piety and devotion, poetry and history, of chivalry\nand romance, of morals and manners, including his own translations of\nCicero\u2019s _Old Age and Friendship_; of proverbs, fables, and classical\nlegends; of statutes of the realm; and the _Game of Chess_, an allegory\nof civil government. We cannot read down the list of ninety-nine books,\nincluding several second and third editions, which Caxton printed,\nwithout wonder and respect for the genius and the judgment of the man\nwhose choice of subjects was so wide, so high-minded, moral, religious,\nand generous, and at the same time so popular. He was indeed, in all\nsenses, the first of English publishers. He died in 1491, occupied (as\nhis chief workman and successor, Wynkyn de Worde, tells us) on the last\nday of his life in finishing his translation of the _Lives of the\nFathers_ from the French. Mr. Blades conjectures, with apparent\nprobability, that his wife was the Mawde Caxton whose burial is\nrecorded in the parish books of St. Margaret\u2019s in 1489, and he adds:\u2014\n\n\u2018If so, it will explain, in a most interesting manner, the reason why\nhe in that year suspended printing the _Fayts of Arms_ until he had\nfinished a new undertaking, _The Arte and Crafte to Die Well_.\u2019\n\nThe operation of the silent but never-failing laws which govern the\ngrowth and progress of our national life, seems to be sustained and\ndirected in certain epochs of our history by great men who have yet\nthemselves been made what they are by those very laws. Among such laws\nare the ideals of chivalry in its twofold aspect of self-sacrifice and\nof self-assertion. And not least among the men who have given to the\nspirit of chivalry its special English forms in which the sense of duty\nand zeal in the redress of wrongs are characteristic, stand Sir Thomas\nMalory and William Caxton.\n\n\n \u00a72. THE TEXT, AND ITS SEVERAL EDITIONS.\n\nThe first edition of Le Morte Darthur was printed by Caxton at\nWestminster in 1485, as he tells us in the colophon. Two copies only\nare known: they are folio, black letter, with wide margin, and among\nthe finest specimens of Caxton\u2019s printing. One belongs to Mrs. Abby E.\nPope, of Brooklyn, United States, by whom it was bought for \u00a31950 at\nthe sale of the Osterley library in 1885[26]; and the other to Earl\nSpencer. The Osterley copy, which is perfect, has the autograph\n\u2018Oxford\u2019 on the first leaf; it was sold with the Harleian Library to\nOsborne the bookseller, and apparently bought of him for \u00a35 5_s._ by\nBryan Fairfax, who sold his library to Mr. Child, maternal ancestor of\nthe Earl of Jersey[27]. The Althorp copy, which was bought at Mr.\nLloyd\u2019s sale in 1816 for \u00a3320, had eleven leaves deficient; but these\nwere supplied by Mr. Whittaker in fac-simile from the Osterley copy\nwith remarkable skill[28], though on collation with the original I have\nfound many mistakes. This edition, like all Caxton\u2019s books but one, has\nno title-page; the Prohem or Preface begins at the top of the first\npage[29].\n\nThe two next editions of Morte Arthur were printed by Wynkyn de Worde,\nthe chief workman and successor of Caxton, in 1498 and 1529. Only one\ncopy of each is known. That of 1498 is in the Althorp Library: it wants\nsome pages, but contains the Preface, which is a reprint of that of\nCaxton, though it here follows instead of preceding the Table of\nContents. This edition, which has numerous woodcuts, is not an exact\nreprint of Caxton\u2019s; there are differences of spelling and occasionally\nof a word; and the passage in the last chapter but one, beginning \u2018Oh\nye mighty and pompous lords,\u2019 and ending with \u2018turn again to my\nmatter,\u2019 which is not in Caxton\u2019s edition, appears here, as in all\nlater editions[30]. The edition of 1529 is in the British Museum, and\nwants the Title, Preface, and part of the Table of Contents.\n\nIn 1557 the book was reprinted by William Copland, with the title of\n\u2018The story of the most noble and worthy kynge Arthur, the whiche was\none of the worthyes chrysten, and also of his noble and valia\u016bte\nknyghtes of the rounde Table. Newly imprynted and corrected mccccclvij.\n\u00b6 Imprynted at London by Wyllyam Copland.\u2019 And on the title-page, above\nthe last line, is a woodcut of St. George and the Dragon, of which that\non the title-page of Southey\u2019s edition is a bad copy. A copy of this\nedition is in the British Museum, with a note that this is the only one\nwith a title which the annotator has seen.\n\nA folio and a quarto edition were published by Thomas East, without\ndate, but probably about 1585, the former of which is in the British\nMuseum.\n\nThe next, and last black-letter, edition is that of William Stansby, in\n1634, which has been reprinted by Mr. Wright, and which contains the\nwoodcut of the Round Table with Arthur in the middle and his knights\naround, a copy of which is familiar to many of us in one of the small\neditions of 1816. From the fact of an omission in this edition which\nexactly corresponds with a complete leaf in East\u2019s folio, Mr. Wright\nconcludes that the one was printed from the other. Each succeeding\nedition departs more than the previous one from the original of Caxton;\nbut if we compare this of 1634 with Caxton\u2019s, we find the variations\nalmost infinite. Besides remodelling the preface, dividing the book\ninto three parts, and modernising the spelling and many of the words,\nthere are a number of more or less considerable variations and\nadditions, of which Mr. Wright has given some of the more important in\nhis notes, but which I estimate at above twenty thousand in the whole;\nand which have probably arisen in the minor instances from the printer\nreading a sentence and then printing it from recollection, without\nfarther reference to his \u2018copy,\u2019 but in the others from a desire to\nimprove the original simplicity by what the editor calls \u2018a more\neloquent and ornated style and phrase.\u2019\n\nNo new edition seems to have been published till 1816, when two\nindependent editions appeared, one in two, and the other in three 24mo\nvolumes. Both are modernised for popular use, and are probably the\nvolumes through which most of my own generation made their first\nacquaintance with King Arthur and his knights; but neither has any\nmerit as to its editing.\n\nIn 1817 Messrs. Longmans and Co. published an edition in two volumes\nquarto, with an introduction and notes by Southey, who says,\u2019The\npresent edition is a reprint with scrupulous exactness from the first\nedition by Caxton, in Earl Spencer\u2019s library[31].\u2019 As it appears from a\nnote[32] that he had nothing to do with the superintendence of the\npress, which was undertaken by Mr. Upcott, he was probably unaware that\neleven leaves were, as I have mentioned above, then wanting in the copy\nfrom which this reprint was made. These had not then been restored in\nfac-simile; for Earl Spencer\u2019s copy contains a note, signed by Messrs.\nLongmans and dated 1816, which gives a list of the pages then wanting;\nand, in fact, the substitutes for them which actually appear in\nSouthey\u2019s edition differ widely from the restored, or the original,\ntext. Thus in chapter xii. of the last book, besides the interpolation\nof the long passage \u2018O ye myghty and pompous lordes,\u2019 &c., which is not\nin Caxton, there are in the first eleven lines thirty-five variations\nof spelling and punctuation, besides the introduction of the words \u2018but\ncontinually mourned un\u2014\u2019 and \u2018needfully as nature required,\u2019 which are\nnot in Caxton, and the change of Caxton\u2019s \u2018on the tombe of kyng Arthur\n& quene Guenever\u2019 into \u2018on kynge Arthur\u2019s & quene Gwenever\u2019s tombe.\u2019\nAnd thus throughout the pages in question\u2014seventeen in number[33]\u2014the\nspelling constantly, and words and even sentences occasionally, differ\nfrom the real text of Caxton[34].\n\nWhen at page 113 of volume i. the editor introduces the words \u2018certayne\ncause\u2019 to complete the sense, he is careful to call attention, in a\nfoot-note, to the fact that these words are not in the original, but\ntaken from the \u2018second edition,\u2019 by which I presume he means that of\n1498. But when he subsequently supplies seventeen pages which were also\nnot in his original, he gives no hint of the fact; and his reticence\nwas so successful that for fifty years the interpolations passed as\ngenuine among learned critics, who quoted from them passages wholly\nspurious as Caxton\u2019s genuine text. It was only in 1867 that, in\ncollating Earl Spencer\u2019s copy with the edition of Southey, I discovered\nthat these passages\u2014to which my attention was directed by Messrs.\nLongman\u2019s note above mentioned\u2014did not correspond with Caxton\u2019s text,\nas represented by Whittaker\u2019s restorations: and on afterwards collating\nthem with the Osterley text itself I found the like result. It remained\nto trace them to their real sources. This was not so easy as might be\nsupposed, for though it was evident that Mr. Upcott must have had\nrecourse to one or other of the existing editions, the interpolated\npassages in fact agree exactly with none of them. But a careful\ncollation of the last four chapters of the book (which include more\nthan half the interpolations, and may be taken as a fair specimen of\nthe whole) with the old texts, leaves no doubt that, with the exception\nof the first thirty-six lines of chapter x, they were taken, like the\ntwo words mentioned above, from the first edition of Wynkyn de Worde,\nbut with the spelling occasionally altered, and here and there a small\nword put in, left out, or changed. These alterations throw an ingenious\ndisguise over the whole; but if we penetrate through this we find that\nin these four chapters there are only thirteen words differing from\nthose in Wynkyn de Worde\u2019s first edition, and these unimportant; while\nin his second edition, and in those of Copland and East, the variations\nfrom Mr. Upcott\u2019s text of the same chapters are respectively\nfifty-seven, fifty-six, and fifty in number, and many of them important\nin kind: and if we go to the edition of 1634 we find the differences\nstill greater, except as to those thirty-six lines, which are supplied\nfrom this edition, as they were wanting in the other copy. But the\ncolophon, or concluding paragraph of the book, Mr. Upcott could not\ntake from any of the editions which followed that of Caxton; for though\nWynkyn de Worde might, and in fact did, supply at least one or two of\nthe first words, the latter part of his colophon relates to his own\nedition, and departs widely from that of Caxton, while those in the\nlater editions are still more unlike; and yet Mr. Upcott\u2019s colophon is\na tolerable, though not an exact, representation of that of Caxton. But\nhis other materials can be ascertained beyond a doubt. They are, the\ncolophon as given by Ames, and repeated by Dibdin in a modernised and\notherwise inexact form[35], and that which first appeared in the\nCatalogue of the Harleian Library[36], and was thence copied in the\narticle on Caxton in the _Biographia Britannica_, and also in Herbert\u2019s\nAdditions to Ames. The colophons of Ames and of the Harleian Catalogue\nhave important variations from each other and from that of Caxton; and\nas Mr. Upcott adopts some portions of each which are not found either\nin the other, or in Caxton, we see the manner in which the paragraph in\nquestion was compounded. Each stone of the ingeniously fitted mosaic\nmay be referred to the place from which it was taken. We cannot indeed\nchoose positively between Ames and Dibdin, or among the Harleian\nCatalogue, the Biographia, and Herbert; but as the two paragraphs which\nare required in addition to that of Wynkyn de Worde are both found in\nHerbert\u2019s Ames, it seems most probable that Mr. Upcott had recourse to\nthat work, though another combination would have served the purpose\nequally well. That the interpolated passages are not taken from the\nOsterley Caxton itself, even in the roughest and most careless manner,\nis quite evident[37].\n\nIn 1858 and 1866 Mr. Wright published successive editions reprinted\nfrom that of 1634. His learned introduction and notes are of\nconsiderable interest; but nothing can justify the reprinting the most\ncorrupt of all the old editions when the first and best was within\nreach, though perhaps at greater cost.\n\nIn 1868 was published the first edition of the present volume, with the\npurpose of giving the original text in a form available for ordinary\nreaders, and especially for boys, from whom the chief demand for this\nbook will always come. It is a reprint of the original Caxton with the\nspelling modernised, and those few words which are unintelligibly\nobsolete replaced by others which, though not necessarily unknown to\nCaxton, are still in use, yet with all old forms retained which do not\ninterfere with this requirement of being readable. For when, as indeed\nis oftenest the case, the context makes even an obsolete phrase\nprobably, if not precisely, known, I have left it in the text, and\ngiven its meaning in the Glossary, in which I have chiefly followed\nRoquefort, Halliwell, and Wright. In the Glossary I have also added a\nfew geographical notes for those readers who may care for them. And for\nthe like reason\u2014of making the book readable\u2014such phrases or passages\nas are not in accordance with modern manners have been also omitted or\nreplaced by others which either actually occur or might have occurred\nin Caxton\u2019s text elsewhere. I say manners, not morals, because I do not\nprofess to have remedied the moral defects of the book which I have\nalready spoken of. Lord Tennyson has shown us how we may deal best with\nthis matter, in so far as Sir Thomas Malory has himself failed to treat\nit rightly; and I do not believe that when we have excluded what is\noffensive to modern manners there will be found anything practically\ninjurious to the morals of English boys, for whom I have chiefly\nundertaken this work, while there is much of moral worth which I know\nnot where they can learn so well as from the ideals of magnanimity,\ncourage, courtesy, reverence for women, gentleness, self-sacrifice,\nchastity, and other manly virtues, exhibited in these pages.\n\nThe omissions, not many, nor in any sense constituting an abridgment of\nthe original, were thought desirable to fit the book for popular\nreading. And if any one blames the other departures from the exact form\nof that original, I would ask him to judge from the specimens of the\nold type and spelling which I have given at the end of each book, and\nof the volume, whether a literal and verbal reproduction of the whole\nwould not be simply unreadable except by students of old English[38].\nAnd if some departure from the original was necessary, it was\nreasonable to carry it so far as, though no farther than, my purpose\nrequired. And, subject to these conditions, the present volume is in\nfact a more accurate reproduction of Caxton\u2019s text than any other\nexcept those of Southey and Dr. Sommer. I have, indeed, made use of\nSouthey\u2019s text for this edition, having satisfied myself by occasional\ncollation with the Althorp and Osterley Caxtons that it is a\nsufficiently accurate reprint excepting as to the passages above\nmentioned; and these have been taken by me from the original in the way\nI have said.\n\nIn 1862, 1868, 1871, 1880, abridgments of Malory\u2019s book were edited by\nJ. T. King, E. Conybeare, B. M. Ranking, and S. Lanier, respectively.\nAnd in 1886 Mr. Ernest Rhys edited a reprint of fourteen of the\ntwenty-one books, from the version of Mr. Wright, with further\nmodernisations and an introduction.\n\nIn 1889, 1890, and 1891, Dr. H. Oskar Sommer edited, and Mr. Nutt\npublished, in three volumes, what will henceforth be the best, if not\nquite the best possible, edition of Caxton\u2019s original text, for the\nscholar and the student. It would be hard to over-rate the industry,\nthe learning, and the munificent public spirit of these worthy\nrepresentatives of Sir Thomas Malory and William Caxton. The first\nvolume gives the text of the Althorp copy, page for page, line for\nline, word for word, and letter for letter, with no change but that of\nRoman for black letter type. It is, indeed, too scrupulously exact, for\nit reproduces the mistakes in Whittaker\u2019s fac-simile pages which now\nform part of the Althorp copy, only correcting these by collations with\nthe Osterley original, given in the second volume. Whittaker has no\nmore authority than any other mere copyist; and the direct correction\nof his mistakes would have made Dr. Sommer\u2019s reprint a perfect\nrepresentation of the original while making a reprint of the collations\nunnecessary. Besides these collations, and others of the second edition\nof Wynkyn de Worde with the text of Caxton, Dr. Sommer\u2019s second volume\ncontains a complete bibliography of the original text and all its after\neditions; an Index of names of persons and places; a Glossary, or\nindeed dictionary, of words, whether obsolete or still in use; and an\nEssay on the language of the book.\n\nIn the third volume, after a graceful essay by Mr. Andrew Lang on the\nliterary merits of Malory, Dr. Sommer gives us a series\u2014an original\nand very important series\u2014of \u2018Studies on the Sources\u2019; and he prints\nfrom MSS. in the British Museum the only two of those \u2018sources\u2019 which\nhad not been so made accessible already, either by ancient or modern\neditors. Into this hitherto chaotic mass of medi\u00e6val romances, French\nand English, prose or verse, Dr. Sommer has now first brought light and\norder. With an almost inconceivable amount of thoughtful and learned\nlabour, he has collated the various manuscripts with the printed\neditions and with Malory\u2019s book, in a detail which, great as it is,\nrepresents, as he tells us, a still more minute investigation of which\nhe only gives the main results. With the exception of the story of\nBeaumains, which is an enlarged narration of that of La Cote Male\nTaile, and subject to the changes made by Malory\u2019s own genius, all the\nadventures and incidents of Malory\u2019s Morte Darthur are now shown to be\nfound in one or more of these \u2018sources,\u2019 often translated literally\nfrom French, or transferred word for word from the English, yet still\noftener so compressed and fused into a new shape that the finished work\nis but a tenth of the bulk of the original matter. Dr. Sommer arranges\nthese sources into the four groups of the Merlin, the Lancelot, the\nTristan, and the Prophecies of Merlin, and shows the relations of each\ngroup to the corresponding portions of Malory. He thinks, with M.\nGaston Paris, that Malory had a now lost form of the \u2018Lancelot,\u2019\ncomparable to the \u2018Suite de Merlin\u2019 discovered only fifteen years\nsince; and indeed believes that he has found some pages of this missing\n\u2018Lancelot\u2019 imbedded in a \u2018Tristan\u2019 MS. in the British Museum. But the\nwork of this learned critic must be studied in itself, not in a\nsummary. Of the light which these investigations throw upon the genius\nof Malory, and on the character of his art, I have already spoken.\n\nThere is no title-page, as I have already mentioned, to the Caxton,\nthat which is given by several bibliographers being only an extract,\nnot very critically selected, from Caxton\u2019s preface. But it is stated\nin Caxton\u2019s colophon that the book was \u2018entytled le morte Darthur,\u2019 and\nhe explains that it was so \u2018entitled\u2019 notwithstanding it treated of\nArthur\u2019s birth, life, and acts as well as death, and also of the\nadventures of his knights of the Round Table. And the concluding words\nof Malory, \u2018Here is the end of the death of Arthur,\u2019 taken with their\ncontext, point to the same title. It was indeed before Malory\u2019s time,\nand has been ever since, the traditional title of this story. We have\nMort Artus and Morte Arthure in the earlier times; Ascham, in Henry\nVIII\u2019s reign, calls this book La Morte d\u2019Arthure; Tyrwhitt, Mort\nd\u2019Arthur; and Walter Scott and Southey, Morte Arthur, which last\nprobably many of us are familiar with as the old name which we heard\nfrom our own fathers.\n\n\n \u00a73. AN ESSAY ON CHIVALRY.\n\nSt. Augustine replied to the enquiry, What is time? by saying, \u2018I know\nwhen you do not ask me:\u2019 and a like answer suggests itself to us if we\ntry to find an adequate reply to the question, What is Chivalry? For\nchivalry is one of those words, like love, duty, patriotism, loyalty,\nwhich make us feel their meaning, and the reality of what they mean,\nthough their ideal and comprehensive character hinders us from readily\nputting it into the forms of a definition. When the alchemist in the\nEastern tale compounds, with all the resources of his art, the\nuniversal solvent before the expectant eyes of his pupil, the pupil,\nseeing the mysterious fluid lie quietly in the crucible, exclaims, with\nnot unreasonable doubt, \u2018O Sage, be not deceived: how can that which\ndissolves all things be itself contained in a ladle?\u2019 And how shall\nchivalry, sparkling and flashing everywhere as it runs through that\ngreat complicated tissue of human life which we call modern\ncivilisation,\u2014how shall chivalry, the humaniser of society, be brought\nwithin the limits of a definition?\n\nChivalry, indeed, exists for us in spirit rather than in outward and\nvisible form. It no longer comes to us with the outward symbols of\nwar-horse, and armour, and noble birth, and strength of arm, and\nhigh-flown protestations of love and gallantry; yet we never fail to\nknow and feel its presence, silent and unobtrusive as it now is: we\nrecognise the lady and the gentleman not less surely now than they did\nin old times; and we acknowledge their rights and their power over us\nnow no less than then. And if the spirit of chivalry does live among us\nstill, we may read its past history by its present light, and say in\nSpenser\u2019s words,\u2014\n\n \u2018By infusion sweete\n Of thine own spirit which doth in me survive,\n I follow still the footing of thy feete,\n That with thy meaning so I may the rather meete.\u2019\n\nLet us then look back to those times when chivalry had an outward,\nvisible form, and was embodied in its own proper institutions, with\norders, and statutes, and courts of its own jurisdiction, and rituals,\nand customs, like those of other great social institutions and members\nof the body politic.\n\nThe deluge of the Teutonic nations which broke up the old Roman\ncivilisation threatened for some centuries to overwhelm Europe with\nmere barbarism. We know now that the germs of a far higher and better\ncivilisation were everywhere ready to burst into life as soon as the\nfury of that deluge had spent itself; but for a long period the evil\nseemed mightier than the good. From time to time the clear head, the\nnoble heart and conscience, and the strong arm of an Alfred, a\nCharlemagne, or an Otho, might bring a temporary calm and order into\nthe storm; but when the personal influences of such great men were\nwithdrawn, society relapsed again and again into ever new anarchy, and\nwar\u2014at once the effect and the cause of anarchy\u2014savage, cruel war\nbecame the business of all men throughout Europe. The selfish, the\nrapacious, and the unscrupulous fought for power, and plunder, and love\nof fighting; and while violence could only be resisted by violence, and\neach man had to defend himself, his family, and his possessions as best\nhe could, with no effectual aid from law and government, there was a\nconstant tendency to increasing barbarism and brutish, or worse than\nbrutish, instead of human, existence.\n\nBut man differs from the brutes in this, that while he can fall lower\nthan they, he can also rise higher, and that even the passions and the\nimpulses which he has in common with them may be subdued, and refined,\nand modified, till they become the servants and instruments of his\nhuman life, and the means by which all that is properly spiritual in\nhis being may be reflected and symbolised upon this earth in outward,\nvisible form. The nobler races of men\u2014the historical races, as they\nhave been called\u2014constantly show this aptitude for contending with\nthese downward tendencies of our nature, and for advancing, through the\nconquest of them, to new and higher life.\n\nAnd so it was in the Middle Ages. The Church was, no doubt, the great\nciviliser of the nations: still, whatever aid the State derived from\nthe Church, it then, no less than now, had a position and processes of\nits own, by which it did its own work of civilisation too. And its\nfirst great work for controlling the universal anarchy of which I have\nspoken was the extension and firm establishment of that\nhalf-patriarchal, half-military organisation which we call the Feudal\nSystem. Every man who was not rich and powerful enough to be a lord\nbecame\u2014willingly or unwillingly\u2014a vassal; and all men, from the king\ndownwards, were bound to each other for reciprocal service and\nprotection\u2014a service and protection partly military, but partly\npatriarchal, since they were rendered not by men strangers to each\nother except for what Mr. Carlyle calls \u2018the nexus of cash payment,\u2019\nbut united by ties of family, and neighbourhood, and clanship, and by\nthe interests and sympathies that grow out of these. But the protector\nof his own vassals easily became the invader of the rights and ravager\nof the possessions of his neighbour and his vassals; and so the old\nevils of anarchy and violence grew afresh out of the remedy which had\nbeen devised to meet them. The \u2018monarchies sank into impotence; petty,\nlawless tyrants trampled all social order under foot,\u2019 says a learned\nhistorian of this period, \u2018and all attempts after scientific\ninstruction and artistic pleasures were as effectually crushed by this\nstate of general insecurity as the external well-being and material\nlife of the people. This was a dark and stormy period for Europe,\nmerciless, arbitrary, and violent. It is a sign of the prevailing\nfeeling of misery and hopelessness that, when the first thousand years\nof our \u00e6ra were drawing to their close, the people in every country in\nEurope looked with certainty for the destruction of the world. Some\nsquandered their wealth in riotous living, others bestowed it for the\ngood of their souls on churches and convents; weeping multitudes lay\nday and night around the altars; some looked forward with dread, but\nmost with secret hope, towards the burning of the earth and the falling\nin of heaven. Their actual condition was so miserable that the idea of\ndestruction was relief, spite of all its horrors[39].\u2019\n\nThe palliatives with which men tried to meet the evils of the times\nindicate the greatness of the evils, but also the moral feeling which\nwas the promise of better things. Such was the so-called \u2018Peace of the\nKing,\u2019 by which private wars were not to be entered on till forty days\nafter the committal of the alleged crime which was to be avenged; and\nthe \u2018Truce of God,\u2019 by which all these acts of private hostility were\nsuspended from Thursday to Monday in each week. And at the Council of\nCleremont, held by Urban II in November, 1095, a severe censure was\npronounced against the licence of private war; the Truce of God was\nconfirmed; women and priests were placed under the safeguard of the\nChurch; and a protection of three years was extended to husbandmen and\nmerchants, the defenceless victims of military rapine. We are reminded\nof the law of Moses, which provided Cities of Refuge for the man who\naccidentally and without malice killed his neighbour, but who could not\nlook for protection from the vengeance of the family of the slain man\nexcept within those special safeguards. In each case there is the same\nunreasoning rage of the half-civilised man brought face to face with\nthe demands of religion and civil law: and each is obliged to yield\nsomething to the other till the better cause has had time to prepare\nand strengthen itself for a more complete triumph.\n\nChivalry, then, was the offspring of the same spirit which dictated the\nPeace of the King, the Truce of God, and the decrees of the Council of\nCleremont. Chivalry has another name\u2014Knighthood\u2014and the two are\nwanted to express all that we mean by either[40]. The chevalier was the\nsoldier who rode the war-horse: he whose birth entitled him, and whose\nwealth gave him the means, to ride at the head of his vassals and\nretainers to the war: all ideas of lordship, and mastery, and outward\ndignity and power, are here embodied before us. But this \u2018chevalier,\u2019\nthis \u2018ritter,\u2019 or rider of the war-horse, was also to be a \u2018knecht,\u2019 or\nservant: \u2018He that will be chief among you, let him be your servant.\u2019\nThe knight was to obey, no less than to command; he was to exert his\nstrength and power, not for selfish ends, but in the service of others;\nand especially in the service of the poor, the weak, and the oppressed,\nwho could not help or defend themselves. It was, indeed, no new\ndiscovery in the world, that such are the duties of him who possesses\npower, and above all the power of the sword; and they who have tried to\ntrace the origin of chivalry to some particular place and time have had\nto go to the Germans of Tacitus, to the Crusaders, to the Saracens, to\nthe Romans, the Greeks, the Trojans, the Hebrews, only to come to the\nconclusion that chivalry belongs in its spirit to man as man; though\nthe form in which that spirit was clothed in Europe in the Middle Ages\nhas an individuality of which some of the sources may be ascertained,\nand though from that time forward its power has been established, and\nextended, in a manner, and with a greatness unknown to the ancients.\n\nIn those days society was essentially military. In this our own time\nthe main offices, interests, and occupations of the great body politic\nare non-military, and the army is but a small portion of the nation,\nspecially trained for a minor, though indispensable, function therein.\nPeace, for its own sake, and for the sake of the objects which can only\nbe obtained by the arts and with the opportunities of peace, is the end\nand aim of every civilised nation now; and war is only an occasional\nmeans to secure that end. But in the Middle Ages war was, or seemed to\nbe, the chief end of life to the greater part of every nation, and\nespecially to all who possessed rank, and wealth, and power, and were\nin fact the leaders of the nation. And therefore chivalry, the spirit\nwhich was to humanise those warriors, needed to be warlike too, and\nthus to sympathise with those to whom it addressed itself.\n\nMuch, too, of its special form it no doubt owed to that wonderful race\nof heroes, the Normans. The romantic love of adventure; the religious\nand the martial enthusiasm; the desire to revenge injuries, and to win\nwealth and power; the delight in arms and horses, in the luxury of\ndress, and in the exercises of hunting and hawking; the eloquence and\nsagacity in council; the patience with which when need was they could\nendure the inclemency of every climate, and the toil and abstinence of\na military life; and the gentleness, the affability and the gallantry,\nwhich were the characteristics of the Norman race; these must have been\nmore or less impressed on men\u2019s minds wherever the Norman sway or\ninfluence extended, from England to Sicily, and must have reproduced\nsomething of themselves in the social habits and manners of the times.\nWhen we read the description of William of the Iron Arm, the first\nNorman count of Apulia, so strong, so brave, so affable, so generous,\nand so sage above other men\u2014a lion in battle, a lamb in society, and\nan angel in council\u2014we are reminded of the heroes of chivalry in the\ndays of its greatest refinement, the Black Prince, Sir John Chandos,\nand Sir Walter of Manny, as they still live in the pages of Froissart;\nor their counterparts in romance, King Arthur, Sir Launcelot, Amadis of\nGaul, or Palmerin of England.\n\nThe Normans, the latest of the Northern races who descended, full of\nwild life, from their mountains and forests, upon the comparatively\ncivilised plains of Europe, may have brought a newer and fresher\nfeeling for those old manners and customs which Tacitus describes as\ncharacterising the Germans of his time, and which are with so much\nprobability connected with the chivalry of the Middle Ages. In ancient\nGermany, and in Scandinavia, it was the custom for each youth, when he\nwas of an age to bear arms, to be presented with a sword, a shield, and\na lance, by his father, or some near relation, in an assembly of the\nchiefs of the nation; and from that time he became a member of the\ncommonwealth, and ranked as a citizen. He then entered the train of\nsome chief, of whom he and his brother youths became the followers and\ncompanions, forming one brotherhood, though not without ranks and\ndegrees, while a generous spirit of equality ran through all.\n\nIn ancient Germany, too, women were held in a peculiar reverence,\nbeyond what was known in the other\u2014and otherwise more\ncivilized\u2014nations of antiquity; and the presence of women in the hour\nof battle with their husbands, brothers, and fathers, was regarded by\nthose warriors as an incentive to courage, and a pledge of victory,\nwhich (as they boasted) their Roman foes were unable to appeal to for\nthemselves. And this old Teutonic reverence for women conspired with\nthe new Christian reverence for the Virgin Mary as the type and\nrepresentative at once of her sex and of the Church, to supply the\npurer and nobler elements of the gallantry which forms so large a part,\nnot only of the romance, but of the actual history, of chivalry.\n\nBut Christianity exercised not only an indirect, but also a direct and\navowed action upon the forms of chivalry, as they attained to their\nfull proportions. Knighthood was certainly a feature and distinction of\nsociety before the days of Charlemagne, who in permitting the governor\nof Friesland to make knights by girding them with a sword, and giving\nthem a blow, adds \u2018as is the custom.\u2019 But no ritual of the Church as\nyet consecrated that custom. Charlemagne girt the sword on his son\nLouis the Good without religious ceremonies; and a century later the\nSaxon king of England, Edward the Elder, clothed Athelstan in a\nsoldier\u2019s dress of scarlet, and girded him with a girdle ornamented\nwith precious stones and a sword with sheath of gold, but without\nreligious rites. But in the next century, in the reign of Edward the\nConfessor, we read that Hereward, a noble Anglo-Saxon youth, was\nknighted by the Abbot of Peterborough, with confession, absolution, and\nprayer that he might be a true knight. And this the historian describes\nas the custom of the English, as indeed it was, or soon became, that of\nall Europe; the Normans resisting the innovation longest, but at last\nadopting it with their wonted ardour. The candidate for knighthood\nconfessed his sins on the eve of his consecration (for such it now\nwas), and passed the night in prayer and fasting in the church: the\ngodfathers, the bath, the white garment, and the tonsure (sometimes\nlimited indeed to a single lock) were the symbols of the new and holy\nstate of life to which he was now called: next morning he heard mass,\noffered his sword on the altar, where it was blessed by the priest; and\nhe was created a knight\u2014either by the priest of highest rank present,\nor by some knight, who, in virtue of his knighthood, was qualified to\nconfer the sacred office he had himself received\u2014in the name of God,\nof St. George, and of Saint Michael the Archangel. He swore, and\nreceived the holy communion in confirmation of his oath, to fulfil the\nduties of his profession; to speak the truth; to maintain the right; to\nprotect women, the poor, and the distressed; to practise courtesy; to\npursue the infidels; to despise the allurements of ease and safety, and\nto maintain his honour in every perilous adventure. And the Council of\nCleremont, of which I have already spoken\u2014as if in order to give the\nsanction of the Church in a still more formal and comprehensive manner\nto the whole system of chivalry\u2014decreed that every person of noble\nbirth, on attaining the age of twelve years, should take a solemn oath\nbefore the bishop of his diocese to defend to the uttermost the\noppressed, the widow, and the orphans; that women of noble birth, both\nmarried and single, should enjoy his especial care; and that nothing\nshould be wanting in him to render travelling safe, and to destroy\ntyranny.\n\nThus, as has been justly observed, all the humanities of chivalry were\nsanctioned by legal and ecclesiastical power: it was intended that they\nshould be spread over the whole face of Christendom, in order to check\nthe barbarism and ferocity of the times. While the form of chivalry was\nmartial, its objects became to a great extent religious and social:\nfrom a mere military array chivalry obtained the name of the Order, the\nHoly Order, and a character of seriousness and solemnity was given to\nit; and it was accounted an honourable office above all offices,\norders, and acts of the world, except the order of priesthood.\n\nThe education for knighthood usually began at a still earlier age than\nthat mentioned in the Canons of Cleremont. The castles of the princes\nand nobles were the schools of those days, at least for the youth of\ntheir own class. Every feudal lord had his court, to which he drew the\nsons and daughters of the poorer gentry of his domains; and if he were\na knight distinguished for his merits, his castle was also frequented\nby the children of men of equal rank and reputation with himself: for\nthe prudent and careful father would often have some brother in arms\nwhom he thought better fitted than himself to educate his children in\nthe accomplishments and duties of his station. So, long after, Ben\nJonson, looking back on those old times, and picturing them in their\nideal aspect, says, that then\n\n \u2018Goodness gave the greatness,\n And greatness worship: every house became\n An academy of honour.\u2019\n\nAnd that this method of education\n\n \u2018By a line\n Of institution from our ancestors,\n Hath been deriv\u2019d down to us, and receiv\u2019d\n In a succession, for the noblest way\n Of breeding up our youth in letters, arms,\n Fair mien, discourses, civil exercises,\n And all the blazon of a gentleman.\n Where can he learn to vault, to ride, to fence,\n To move his body gracefuller, to speak\n His language purer, or to tune his mind\n Or manners more to the harmony of nature,\n Than in these nurseries of nobility?\u2019\n\nThe boy of gentle birth, when he thus began his education, was called\nby the names of Childe, or Damoiseau, or Valet, said to be a\ncontraction of Vassalet or little Vassal, and also Page, though this\nlast name was originally appropriated to the youths of inferior rank.\nHe usually entered the castle which was to be his school about the age\nof seven or eight. He was to learn modesty, obedience, and address in\narms and horsemanship, and was duly exercised in the use of his\nweapons, beginning with such as were suited to his strength. He was\ninstructed how to guide a horse with grace and dexterity, how to use\nthe bow and the sword, and how to manage the lance,\u2014an art which was\ntaught him by making him ride against a wooden figure, which, if not\nstruck in true knightly fashion, was so contrived as to turn round and\ngive the awkward cavalier a blow with its wooden sword. He attended his\nlord in the chase, and learnt all its arts; he attended him also in\nmany offices which we should now call menial, but which were then held\nto be the proper symbols of modesty and obedience for the youth of\nhighest birth and rank. Thus the Black Prince was held to show the\nhighest respect to the French king, his prisoner, by personal\nattendance on him. In the words of Froissart: \u2018The same day of the\nbattle, at night, the prince made a supper in his lodging to the French\nking, and to the most part of the great lords that were prisoners ...\nand always the prince served before the king as humbly as he could, and\nwould not sit at the king\u2019s board for any desire that the king could\nmake; but he said he was not sufficient to sit at the table with so\ngreat a prince as the king was.\u2019\n\nAnd not the least important of the youth\u2019s duties were those towards\nthe ladies of the house in which he lived. He was to wait on them\nrather as attending a sort of superior beings to whom adoration and\nobsequious service were due, than as ministering to the convenience of\nhuman creatures like himself. The most modest demeanour, the most\nprofound respect, were to be observed in the presence of these fair\nidols. And as not only the youths, but the maidens\u2014the damoiselles no\nless than the damoiseaux\u2014were sent to the courts of the barons and\ntheir ladies for education, it would often happen that this veneration\nin which the boy was so early trained towards the ladies of maturer\nyears, would find an object in some young maiden whose more suitable\nage might lead him, as he grew up, from mere boyish regard to that\npassionate and abiding devotion which was the duty of every true knight\nto his lady, and by the strength of which he held that all his power\nfor good was to be maintained. Here is a description of the beginning\nof the loves of Amadis and Oriana, which is as charming as it is\nsimple; and which, though we find it in the pages of a romance, we\ncannot doubt is a picture of actual life and manners. \u2018Oriana,\u2019 says\nthe old book, \u2018was about ten years old, the fairest creature that ever\nwas seen; wherefore she was called the one \u201cwithout a peer\u201d.... The\nchild of the sea (that is, Amadis) was now twelve years old, but in\nstature and size he seemed fifteen, and he served the queen; but, now\nthat Oriana was there, the queen gave her the child of the sea, that he\nshould serve her, and Oriana said that \u201cit pleased her;\u201d and that word\nwhich she said, the child kept in his heart, so that he never lost it\nfrom his memory, and in all his life he was never weary of serving her,\nand his heart was surrendered to her; and this love lasted as long as\nthey lasted, for as well as he loved her did she also love him. But the\nchild of the sea, who knew nothing of her love, thought himself\npresumptuous to have placed his thoughts on her, and dared not speak to\nher; and she, who loved him in her heart, was careful not to speak more\nwith him than with another: but their eyes delighted to reveal to the\nheart what was the thing on earth that they loved best. And now the\ntime came that he thought he could take arms if he were knighted; and\nthis he greatly desired, thinking that he would do such things that, if\nhe lived, his mistress should esteem him.\u2019\n\nSuch was the beginning of the loves of Amadis and Oriana, so famous in\nromance, and so generally held by knights and ladies to be a model for\nthemselves. Constancy, such as that of Amadis, was a virtue of the true\nlover which those times of long inevitable separations and absences\ndemanded in forms hardly known in our days; and in proportion was it\ninsisted upon, and held in honour. So Spenser says:\n\n \u2018Young knight whatever, that dost arms profess,\n And through long labours huntest after fame,\n Beware of fraud, beware of fickleness,\n In choice and change of thy dear loved dame;\n Lest thou of her believe too lightly blame,\n And rash misweening do thy heart remove;\n For unto knight there is no greater shame,\n Than lightness and inconstancy in love.\u2019\n\nThe peerless Amadis passed with more than ordinary rapidity to the rank\nof knighthood. The youth more usually remained an esquire\u2014the next\nstep to that of page\u2014till he was twenty. He attended the knight to\nwhose person he was attached, dressed and undressed him, trained his\nhorses, kept his arms bright and burnished, and did the honours of the\nhousehold to the strangers who visited it; so that Spenser takes the\nsquire as the type of such courtesy. Here is Chaucer\u2019s description of\nthe squire:\n\n \u2018With him there was his son, a young\u00e9 squire,\n A lover and a lusty bachelor,\n With lock\u00e9s curl\u2019d as they were laid in press;\n Of twenty years of age he was, I guess.\n Of his stat\u00fare he was of even length,\n And wonderly deliver, and great of strength;\n And he had been some time in chevachie (military expeditions),\n In Flanders, in Artois, and Picardie,\n And borne him well, as of so little space,\n In hope to standen in his lady\u2019s grace.\n Embroider\u2019d was he, as it were a mead\n All full of fresh\u00e9 flowers, white and red;\n Singing he was, or fluting, all the day;\n He was as fresh as is the month of May;\n Short was his gown, with sleev\u00e9s long and wide:\n Well could he sit on horse, and fair\u00e9 ride;\n He could\u00e9 song\u00e9s make, and well indite,\n Just, and eke dance, and well pourtray and write:\n So hot he lov\u00e9d, that by nightertale\n He slept no more than doth the nightingale.\n Courteous he was; slowly and serviceable;\n And carv\u2019d before his father at the table.\u2019\n\nI have already spoken of the religious rites with which the esquire was\nadmitted into the order of knighthood, and of the solemn and noble\nengagements into which he then entered. He had next to \u2018win his spurs,\u2019\nas it was called; a phrase happily illustrated in the story of Edward\nIII and the Black Prince, which Froissart thus relates:\u2014\n\n \u2018This battle between Broy and Cressy, this Saturday, was right\n cruel and fell, and many a feat of arms done that day came not to\n my knowledge.... In the morning, the day of the battle, certain\n Frenchmen and Almagnes perforce opened the archers of the prince\u2019s\n battle (_division_ as we should now say), and came and fought with\n the men of arms, hand to hand. Then the second battle of the\n Englishmen came to succour the prince\u2019s battle, the which was time,\n for they had as then much ado. And they with the prince sent a\n messenger to the king, who was on a little windmill hill: then the\n knight said to the king, \u201cSir, the earl of Warwick, and the earl of\n Oxford, Sir Reynold Cobham, and other, such as lie about the prince\n your son, are fiercely fought withal, and are sore handled,\n wherefore they desire you that you and your battle will come and\n aid them, for if the Frenchmen increase, as they doubt they will,\n your son and they shall have much ado.\u201d Then the king said, \u201cIs my\n son dead, or hurt, or on the earth felled?\u201d \u201cNo, sir,\u201d quoth the\n knight, \u201cbut he is hardly matched, wherefore he hath need of your\n aid.\u201d \u201cWell,\u201d said the king, \u201creturn to him, and to them that sent\n you hither, and say to them, that they send no more to me for any\n adventure that falleth, as long as my son is alive: and also say to\n them, that they suffer him this day to win his spurs; for, if God\n be pleased, I will this day\u2019s work be his, and the honour thereof,\n and to them that be about him.\u201d Then the knight returned again to\n them, and showed the king\u2019s words, the which greatly encouraged\n them, and repented in that they had sent to the king as they did.\u2019\n Brave knights, to be \u2018greatly encouraged\u2019 by such stern though\n manly words. We are reminded of the not less brave and knightly\n demeanour of Sir Colin Halket and his men at Waterloo, when the\n Duke of Wellington rode up and asked how they were, and the general\n replied that two-thirds of the brigade were down, and the remainder\n so exhausted that the relief of fresh troops, for however short a\n time, was most desirable. But when the duke said that no relief was\n possible, that all depended on _them_, the answer which the officer\n made for himself and his men was, \u2018Enough, my lord, we stand here\n till the last man falls.\u2019\n\nThenceforth the knight\u2019s career depended, he would not have said on\nhimself, but on God and his lady: and if we may judge by the ordinary\nlanguage of the romances, his lady was often the object of actual\nadoration, little differing from that he would have addressed to the\nsaints in the hour of danger or of triumph. Philosophic divines teach\nus that although the worship of the saints may become in practice a\ngross and degrading superstition, it has in it an element of true, and\nin itself ennobling, faith in ideals of humanity more or less perfectly\nrevealed in human form: and so while we smile at the fictions of\nextravagant fancy in which the medi\u00e6val knight was wont to clothe his\nlove, and his professions of love, for his mistress, we cannot\nreasonably doubt that in the main, and for that time of youthful\nimaginations rather than of sober reasonings, the knight was right.\nWhen I think of what society was, and what it would still be, without\nthe humanizing influences of womanhood and ladyhood, and what it is by\nmeans of these, I say that the tree may be judged by its fruits, and\nthat it is from a right noble stock, rightly and wisely cultivated in\nthe main, in those old days, that we are still gathering such noble\nfruits. Much evil there was along with the good; and, what is worse,\nmuch confusion between good and evil. I need not tell the reader of\nchivalry romances, or of Lord Tennyson\u2019s reproductions of some of their\nincidents in modern form of thought as well as language, how painfully\nthis confusion defaces many of the fairest characters and most\ninteresting tales of chivalry, while the historical records of the\ntimes in which those romances were written and read show that the\nactual state of morals and manners exhibited the like confusions of\ngood and evil, in the ideals as well as in the conduct of life. But, as\nI have already observed, we see, at least in the romance before us, the\ngood contending with, and mastering the evil, and this not least in the\nend of the story of the guilty loves of Guenever and Launcelot, the\nknight whose fame in romance perhaps surpasses that of Amadis, though\neven medi\u00e6val morality was obliged to censure the constancy of\nLauncelot\u2019s love, while it might unhesitatingly extol that of Amadis.\n\nLord Tennyson has, I may assume, made every one familiar with the\nretirement of queen Guenever to the nunnery of Almesbury, and with the\ndeath of Arthur; and I venture for the completion of this sketch to\nshow, though from the present volume, how the old story which the poet\nchiefly follows relates the death and draws the character of Launcelot.\nLauncelot, when he heard of those events, went to Almesbury, and after\ntaking leave of the queen, resolved to follow her example; and became a\nhermit and penitent, taking up his abode in a forest where was an\nhermitage and a chapel that stood between two cliffs; and there he\nserved God day and night with prayers and fastings. Thus he, and other\nknights who followed his example, \u2018endured great penance six years, and\nthen Sir Launcelot took the habit of priesthood, and a twelvemonth he\nsang mass.\u2019 At the end of that time a vision directed him to take the\nbody of queen Guenever, now dead at Almesbury, and bury her with king\nArthur at Glastonbury. Then the story goes on:\u2014\u2018And when she was put\nin the earth Sir Launcelot swooned and lay long still, while the hermit\ncame out and awaked him, and said, Ye be to blame, for ye displease God\nwith such manner of sorrow making. Truly, said Sir Launcelot, I trust I\ndo not displease God, for He knoweth mine intent, for my sorrow was\nnot, nor is not, for any rejoicing of sin, but my sorrow may never have\nend. For when I remember of her beauty, and of her noblesse, that was\nboth with her king and with her; so when I saw his corpse and her\ncorpse so lie together, truly mine heart would not serve to sustain my\ncareful body. Also when I remember me how by my default, and mine\norgule, and my pride, that they were both laid full low, that were\npeerless that ever was living of christian people, wit ye well, said\nSir Launcelot, this remembered, of their kindness and mine unkindness,\nsank so to my heart, that all my natural strength failed me, so that I\nmight not sustain myself.\u2019 The story goes on to say that there he\nwasted away, praying night and day at the tomb of the king and queen.\nHe died, and was taken to his own castle of Joyous Gard to be buried.\n\u2018And right thus as they were at their service there came Sir Ector de\nMaris, that had seven year sought all England, Scotland, and Wales,\nseeking his brother Sir Launcelot. And when Sir Ector heard such noise\nand light in the quire of Joyous Gard he alight, and put his horse from\nhim, and came into the quire, and there he saw men sing and weep. And\nall they knew Sir Ector, but he knew not them. Then went Sir Bors unto\nSir Ector, and told him how there lay his brother Sir Launcelot dead.\nAnd then Sir Ector threw his shield, sword, and helm from him; and when\nhe beheld Sir Launcelot\u2019s visage he fell down in a swoon; and when he\nawaked it were hard for any tongue to tell the doleful complaints that\nhe made for his brother. Ah, Launcelot, he said, thou were head of all\nChristian knights! And now, I dare say, said Sir Ector, thou Sir\nLauncelot, there thou liest, that thou were never matched of earthly\nknight\u2019s hands; and thou were the courtiest knight that ever bare\nshield; and thou were the truest friend to thy lover that ever bestrode\nhorse; and thou were the truest lover, of a sinful man, that ever loved\nwoman; and thou were the kindest man that ever strake with sword; and\nthou were the goodliest person ever came among press of knights; and\nthou was the meekest man and the gentlest that ever ate in hall among\nladies; and thou were the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever\nput spear in the rest.\u2019\n\nLet me compare with this Chaucer\u2019s description of the knight of his\ntimes:\u2014\n\n \u2018A knight there was, and that a worthy[41] man,\n That from the tim\u00e9 that he first began\n To riden out, he loved chivalry,\n Truth and hon\u00f3ur, freedom and courtesy.\n Full worthy was he in his lord\u00e9s war,\n And thereto had he ridden, no man farre,\n As well in Christendom as in Heatheness,\n And ever honoured for his worthiness.\n At Alisandre he was when it was won:\n Full oftentime he had the board begun\n Aboven all\u00e9 nati\u00f3ns in Prusse[42]:\n In Lethowe had he reys\u00e9d[43], and in Russe,\n No Christian man so oft, of his degree:\n In Gernade at the siege eke had he be\n Of Algesir, and ridden in Belmarie:\n At Ley\u00e9s was he, and at Satalie,\n When they were won; and in the Great\u00e9 Sea\n At many a noble army had he be.\n At mortal battles had he been fifteen,\n And foughten for our faith at Tramissene\n In list\u00e9s thri\u00e9s, and aye slain his foe.\n This ilk\u00e9 worthy knight had been also\n Sometim\u00e9 with the lord of Palathie\n Against another heathen in Turkey;\n And evermore he had a sovereign prise[44],\n And though that he was worthy he was wise,\n And of his port as meek as is a maid.\n He never yet no villainy ne said\n In all his life unto no manner wight:\n He was a very perfect gentle knight.\u2019\n\nIn an age when all men, not of the clergy, were divided between the two\nclasses of freemen or gentlemen, and serfs or villains, and the\nvillains were in habits and in human culture little better than the\ndomestic animals of which they shared the labours, the knight almost\ninevitably belonged to the class of free, or gentle, birth. Still, in\ntheory always, and to a great extent in practice, it was not his birth,\nbut his personal merit, which qualified him for knighthood. The\npersonal merit would oftener exist, and still oftener come to light,\nwhere it had the advantages and aids of education and general social\nculture. But if it was recognised in the villain, or man of no rights\nof birth, he might be, and often was, knighted, and was thereby\nimmediately enfranchised, and accounted a gentleman, in law no less\nthan in name. Thus Froissart tells us of Sir Robert Sale, the governor\nof Norwich, that \u2018he was no gentleman born, but he had the grace to be\nreputed sage and valiant in arms, and for his valiantness King Edward\nmade him knight.\u2019 He was governor during the popular insurrection of\nwhich Wat Tyler and Jack Straw were the London leaders; and he was\ninvited to put himself at the head of one of the risings by men who\nurged upon him\u2014\u2018Sir Robert, ye are a knight and a man greatly beloved\nin this country, and renowned a valiant man; and though ye be thus, yet\nwe know you well: ye be no gentleman born, but son to a villain, such\nas we be: therefore come you with us, and be our master, and we shall\nmake you so great a lord that one quarter of England shall be under\nyour obeisance.\u2019 He refused, and they killed him. The same king also\nknighted the man-at-arms, son of a tanner, who was afterwards famous as\nSir John Hawkwood. And the courtly as well as knightly Chaucer, who\nmust more or less have reflected the feeling of the royal and noble\npersonages among whom he lived, goes farther, and asserts that not only\ndoes virtue make the gentleman, but also baseness of mind the villain\nor churl:\u2014\n\n \u2018But understand in thine intent,\n That this is not mine intendement,\n To clepen no wight in no age\n Only gentle for his lineage;\n But whoso that is virtuous,\n And in his port nought outrageous,\n Though he be not gentle born,\n Thou may\u2019st well see this in soth,\n That he is gentle because he doth\n As longeth to a gentleman;\n Of them none other deem I can:\n For certainly, withouten drede,\n A churl is deemed by his deed,\n Of high or low, as you may see,\n Or of what kindred that he be.\u2019\n\nAkin to this recognition of gentleness of mind and manners, as that\nwhich made a gentleman, was the sense of brotherhood among knights and\ngentlemen, which led them to trust in each other\u2019s honour, even when\nthey were fighting under the banners of hostile kings. The chronicles\nare full of the instances of such consideration of the English and\nFrench knights for each other in the wars between the two nations; and\nit is not without probability that to these and suchlike manifestations\nof the spirit of chivalry have been traced the courtesy and humanity\nwhich characterise modern warfare in a degree unknown to the ancients.\n\nMuch indeed of barbarism and cruelty there was in the usages of war in\nthe best times of chivalry, even of the knights among themselves, and\nstill more when they came, with passions infuriated by resistance, upon\nthe people of lower rank than themselves. Edward III of England, and\nthe knights whom he gathered round him, are held alike by contemporary\nhistorians and romance writers, and by those of modern times, to have\nbest exhibited the characteristics of chivalry in its day of greatest\nrefinement as well as splendour; yet no one can read the chronicles of\neven the admiring Froissart without seeing how much savage passion and\ncruelty was often mingled with their better dispositions: though we do\nsee also that the cruelty was not because, but in spite of their\nchivalry. Froissart laments bitterly the iniquity of the massacre by\nthe Black Prince of the people of Limoges, men, women, and children,\nmore than three thousand. And when Edward III, before him, intended, as\nwould seem, to have treated the town of Calais in like manner, not only\ndid the French knights who had offered to surrender declare that they\nwould \u2018endure as much pain as knights ever did, rather than the poorest\nlad in the town should have any more evil than the greatest of us\nall\u2019\u2014showing that they made no selfish distinction between the noble\nand the villain\u2014but the English knights, headed by Sir Walter of\nManny, that flower of knighthood, protested to the utmost against their\nking\u2019s purpose. And when he had yielded so far to their urgency as to\nsay that he would be content with the lives of the six chief burgesses,\nSir Walter of Manny again remonstrated, saying, \u2018Ah, noble king, for\nGod\u2019s sake refrain your courage: ye have the name of sovereign\nnoblesse: therefore now do not a thing that should blemish your renown,\nnor to give cause to some to speak of you villainy [to charge you with\nconduct unworthy of a knight and gentleman]; every man will say it is a\ngreat cruelty to put to death such honest persons, who by their own\nwills put themselves into your grace to save their company. Then the\nking wryed away from him, and commanded to send for the hangman, and\nsaid, \u201cThey of Calais had caused many of my men to be slain, wherefore\nthese shall die in likewise.\u201d\u2019\n\nIt needed a stronger influence than that of Sir Walter of Manny to save\ntheir lives: and this brings me to speak of the LADY of the medi\u00e6val\ntimes; the LADY, who was the counterpart of the KNIGHT, and without\nwhom he could never have existed. Here, indeed, I meet a difficulty\nwhich reminds me of what Coleridge says of the female characters of\nShakspeare, that their truth to nature, and therefore their beauty,\nconsists in the absence of strongly marked features. It is impossible\nto read the poems, romances, or chronicles of the medi\u00e6val times,\nwithout feeling all through how important a part the lady plays\neverywhere; and yet it is far from easy to draw her from her retirement\nand bring distinctly before ourselves what she did, and get a picture\nof her as definite as we can do of the knight. Still I must try to\ntrace the outlines of such a picture of one lady:\u2014Philippa, queen of\nEdward III, whom Froissart calls \u2018the most gentle queen, most liberal,\nand most courteous that ever was queen in her days;\u2019 and who was the\nvery type and representative of the lady, in the highest and best\nsense, in an age in which the ladies\u2014such as the princess Blanche, the\ngood queen Ann, the countess of Salisbury, Jane de Montfort, and the\nwife of Charles de Blois\u2014were renowned for their gentle or their\nheroic characters.\n\nWhen Isabel, queen of Edward II, visited Hainault with her son,\nafterwards Edward III, we are told that William, earl of Hainault, \u2018had\nfour fair daughters, Margaret, Philippa, Jane, and Isabel: among whom\nthe young Edward set most his love and company on Philippa; and also\nthe young lady in all honour was more conversant with him than any of\nher sisters.\u2019 Queen Isabel had come to ask for aid against her enemies,\nand Froissart gives an account of the discussion between the earl and\nhis council, who objected on prudential grounds to interfering with the\nquarrels of the English, and the earl\u2019s brother, Sir John Hainault, who\nmaintained that \u2018all knights ought to aid to their powers all ladies\nand damsels chased out of their own countries, being without counsel or\ncomfort.\u2019 The earl finally yielded, saying, \u2018My fair brother, God\nforbid that your good purpose should be broken or let. Therefore, in\nthe name of God, I give you leave; and kissed him, straining him by the\nhand in sign of great love.\u2019 The whole passage is too long to quote,\nbut thus much gives a lively picture of the temper of the home and\ncourt in which the young Philippa was brought up.\n\nHer marriage with Edward, then only fifteen years old, was agreed on,\nand sanctioned by the Pope. I am sorry to say that the chronicler gives\nno account of the lady\u2019s bridal outfit[45], except in the general\nterms, that \u2018there was devised and purveyed for their apparel, and for\nall things honourable that belonged to such a lady, who should be queen\nof England.\u2019 They were married, and she arrived in England and was\ncrowned, \u2018with great justs, tourneys, dancing, carolling, and great\nfeasts, the which endured the space of three weeks.\u2019 And then \u2018this\nyoung queen Philippa abode still in England, with small company of any\npersons of her own country, saving one who was named Walter of Manny,\nwho was her carver, and after did so many great prowesses in divers\nplaces, that it were hard to make mention of them.\u2019 If we couple this\nstatement, that she retained hardly any of her own people, with that\nwhich Froissart makes in reviewing her whole life, that \u2018she loved\nalways her own nation where she was born,\u2019 we have pleasing thoughts\nsuggested of the cheerful acceptance of new duties in a foreign land by\nthe young wife; while, if I had space to describe in detail the noble\nlife of Sir Walter of Manny, the reader would agree with me that his\nhabitual presence in the English court must have done much to make both\nEdward and the Black Prince, as well as the rest of the princes and\nnobles, what they were, as knights and gentlemen.\n\nThe next glimpse we get of the queen is when she appears, accompanied\nwith three hundred ladies and damsels \u2018of noble lineage, and apparelled\naccordingly, at the yearly feast at Windsor, in honour of the order and\nbrotherhood of the Knights of the Blue Garter, there established on St.\nGeorge\u2019s day.\u2019 Again, when the king of Scots had advanced to Newcastle,\nwhile king Edward lay before Calais, we see the queen arriving to meet\nthe English army, and going from division to division, \u2018desiring them\nto do their devoir\u2019\u2014duty was then, as now, the English soldier\u2019s\nword\u2014\u2018to defend the honour of her lord the king of England, and, in\nthe name of God, every man to be of good heart and courage; promising\nthem that to her power she would remember them as well or better as\nthough her lord the king were there personally. Then the queen departed\nfrom them, recommending them to God and St. George.\u2019 She does not seem,\nlike some of the ladies of that generation, to have considered the\nfield to be her place while the battle was going on; but after it was\nwon she returned, and with her council made all necessary arrangements\nand plans. Shortly after she joined her husband while he lay before\nCalais, \u2018bringing many ladies and damsels with her, as well to\naccompany her, as to see their husbands, fathers, brethren, and other\nfriends that lay at siege there before Calais, and had done a long\ntime.\u2019 And I think we may attribute it as well to the general\nhumanising influence of all those ladies, as to the personal persuasion\nof Philippa, that Calais did not suffer the same horrors of war as did\nLimoges at the hands of the Black Prince. To what I have already quoted\nfrom Froissart as to this story, I must now add what he tells us of\nPhilippa, after Edward had refused to hear Sir Walter of Manny. \u2018Then\nthe queen kneeled down, and sore weeping, said, \u201cAh, gentle sir, sith I\npassed the sea in great peril, I have desired nothing of you; therefore\nnow I humbly require you, in the honour of the Son of the Virgin Mary,\nand for the love of me, that ye will take mercy of these six\nburgesses.\u201d The king beheld the queen, and stood still in a study a\nspace, and then said, \u201cAh dame, I would ye had been as now in some\nother place; ye make such request to me that I cannot deny you;\nwherefore I give them to you, to do your pleasure with them.\u201d\u2019\n\nAnd lastly, as a counterpart to the picture I have already given of the\ndeath of the knight of romance, here is the account of the death of her\nwho was the lady of the brightest day of historical chivalry:\u2014\n\n\u2018In the mean season there fell in England a heavy case and a common:\nhowbeit it was right piteous for the king, his children, and all his\nrealm; for the good queen of England\u2014that so many good deeds had done\nin her time, and so many knights succoured, and ladies and damosels\ncomforted, and had so largely departed of her goods to her people, and\nnaturally loved always the nation of Haynault, the country where she\nwas born\u2014she fell sick in the castle of Windsor, the which sickness\ncontinued on her so long, that there was no remedy but death; and the\ngood lady, when she knew that there was no remedy but death, she\ndesired to speak with the king her husband, and when he was before her,\nshe put out of her bed her right hand, and took the king by his right\nhand, who was right sorrowful at his heart. Then she said, \u201cSir, we\nhave in peace, joy, and great prosperity, used all our time together:\nsir, now I pray you at our departing, that ye will grant me three\ndesires.\u201d The king, right sorrowfully weeping, said, \u201cMadam, desire\nwhat ye will, I grant it.\u201d The three requests of the dying woman\nwere\u2014that the king should pay all that she owed to any man; that he\nshould fulfil all the promises she had made to the churches where she\nhad \u201chad her devotion,\u201d and that \u201cit might please him to take none\nother sepulture, whensoever it should please God to call him out of\nthis transitory life, but beside her in Westminster.\u201d The king, all\nweeping, said, \u201cMadam, I grant all your desire.\u201d Then the good lady and\nqueen made on her the sign of the cross, and commended the king her\nhusband to God, and her youngest son Thomas, who was there beside her;\nand anon after she yielded up the spirit, which I believe surely the\nholy angels received with great joy up to heaven; for in all her life\nshe did neither in thought nor deed thing to lose her soul, as far as\nany creature could know. Thus the good queen of England died in the\nyear of our Lord 1369, in the vigil of our Lady, in the midst of\nAugust.\u2019\n\nWe have all pictured to ourselves, again and again, how the lady sat in\nher bower with her embroidery and her missal or romance, and saw from\nher lattice window her knight going from the castle with lance and\npennon, hoping to meet his foe: how the minstrel recited in the castle\nhall the feats of arms of this or that hero in some distant\nbattle-field; and how the matron or the maiden heard those feats, and\nthought with silent joy that it was her lord, her husband, or her\nlover, whose deeds were thus winning the praises of the troubadour, and\nthe applause of the listening knights and squires. We have all seen in\nimagination the tournament, with the pomp and splendour of its mimic\ncontests: contests which surpassed the Olympic and Corinthian games of\nclassic antiquity, not only in their gorgeous show, but still more in\nthe presence of the ladies, noble in birth, and fame, and beauty; whose\nscarf, or glove, the combatants wore as the token of that favour which\nwas their highest incentive to distinguish themselves; and from whose\nhands the conqueror received the prize of skill and bravery: while the\nhonourably vanquished might be sure that he would have the hardly less\nwelcome lot of being cared for by the same ladies, who never shrank\nfrom this their acknowledged and well-fulfilled duty of tending the\nwounded knight.\n\nPerhaps too we have listened in fancy to the proceedings of the\nso-called Courts of Parliaments of Love, in which the ladies were wont\nto hear questions of gallantry gravely argued on both sides by poets\npleading in verse, and then to give their judgments according to the\nlogical and metaphysical rules which the schoolmen applied to\ntheological enquiries. But I can now but remind my reader that such\nthings were; and must hasten forward, leaving ungathered flowers that\nwould make many a wreath and nosegay.\n\nThe golden age of chivalry was the period from about the middle of the\neleventh to the end of the fourteenth century. We may say with Gibbon,\nthat the Crusades were at once a cause and an effect of chivalry. In\nthe Crusades the spirit of knighthood, with all its characteristic\nfeatures, actuated vast bodies of men of every rank and nation, and\nfound a foe believed by all Christendom to be to it what the individual\nrobber and plunderer was to the knight errant who went forth in his own\ncountry to defend or rescue the widow and orphan and their possessions,\nor the traveller along the road which passed the castle of some\npowerful though unworthy baron. The chivalry at home was kept alive,\nand raised to its highest energy, both in man and woman, by the\nchivalry in the Holy Land. It is in this period that the chief\ninstitutions of chivalry took their rise, or reached their full form;\nwhile their ruder features were gradually softened with the increasing\nrefinement of the times, till they presented that aspect with which we\nfind them in the days of Edward III and the Black Prince, as drawn by\nFroissart or Chaucer, or in the romances which were then written or\nremodelled out of older materials, and which show that even in the\nestimation of other nations the English court then afforded the pattern\nof knighthood for Christendom.\n\nThenceforward the outward forms of chivalry began to decay; very\ngradually indeed, and not without apparent resuscitations from time to\ntime. But no real revival was possible; for the immortal spirit was\nseeking new habitations for itself, more fitted to the new world which\nwas succeeding to that of the Middle Ages. And perhaps Cervantes, by\nhelping to tear up with his merciless satire the last remnants of an\nhonest faith in the old forms of chivalry, did as real, though we\ncannot say as genial, a service to the cause of chivalry itself, as\nSpenser did in endeavouring to preserve its spirit by transferring it\nto the region of allegory. The last expiring token of the old spirit in\nthe old forms which I have found, is in the records of the Knights of\nMalta\u2014the Knights Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem\u2014when the news\nof the great earthquake in Sicily, in 1783, arrived at Malta. Then\nthose poor feeble-minded sybarites remembered for a moment their\nmanhood and their knighthood, and their vows as Hospitallers; they\nmanned their galleys, and, with food and clothing and medicines, and\nthe consolations of their faith, were speedily seen, in their\nhalf-military, half-priestly garb\u2014the armour covered by the black robe\nwith the white cross\u2014at the bedsides of the wounded and the dying, as\nthey lay amid the still tottering ruins of their devastated houses. In\na very few years, in that same generation, the Order had passed away\nfor ever; but it is pleasant to him who stands in the palace of the\nGrand Masters among the trophies of their former greatness, or treads\nthe aisles of the cathedral of St. John, where every step is upon the\nemblazoned gravestone of a knight, to think of this, and not of any\nless worthy deed, as their last act.\n\n \u2018The knight\u2019s bones are dust,\n And his good sword rust:\n His soul is with the saints, I trust:\u2019\u2014\n\nbut he has left to us an imperishable and a rich inheritance, won for\nus by him. To him we owe our MANNERS\u2014all that world of existence\nimplied in the names LADY and GENTLEMAN. Through the Middle Ages it was\n\u2018Our Lady,\u2019 the Virgin mother who embodied and represented to all men\nand women, from the prince to the peasant, their ideals of womanhood\nand ladyhood. In modern times St. Paul has been held to be the model of\na gentleman; in whose acts and writings are found all the principles,\nmaxims, and spirit of a character entirely chivalrous, in the amplest\nsense of the term: while one of our old dramatists has ventured, in\nwords of touching tenderness and reverence, to point to a yet higher\nrealisation of that ideal;\u2014\n\n \u2018The best of men\n That e\u2019er wore earth about him, was a sufferer,\n A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit;\n The first true gentleman that ever breathed.\u2019\n\nAnd it was the transference of these Christian ethics, into the\npractice of common daily, worldly life, in rude, half-barbarous times,\nwhich we owe to the knights and ladies of the Middle Ages; a\ntransference effected slowly, and with much mixture of evil with the\ngood: nor is the work nearly completed yet; but the worth of it can\nhardly be overrated.\n\nThis is not indeed all, but there is much truth in the old motto,\n\u2018Manners makyth man.\u2019 Manners, like laws, create a region and\natmosphere of virtue within which all good more easily lives and grows,\nand evil finds it harder to maintain itself. How large a portion of the\nsmall, spontaneous kindnesses of hourly life, in which, after all, so\nmuch of our happiness consists, are not only unknown, but impossible,\nwhere habitual, unaffected politeness is wanting.\n\nBut manners are good, not only as affording a fairer field for the\nexercise of the higher virtues, but good in themselves. They are a real\npart of the beauty and grace of our human life. Courtesy, and\nself-possession, and deference and respect for others; modesty and\ngentleness towards all men, and recognition in all of the true gold of\nhumanity, whether it bear the guinea stamp or no; love of truth and\nhonour; and not only readiness, but eagerness to help the weak, and\ndefend their cause against the strong; and all these irradiated and\nglorified, as often as may be, by that sentiment which\n\n \u2018\u2014\u2014gives to every power a double power,\n Above their functions and their offices;\u2019\u2014\n\nthese are the things which make the lady and the gentleman.\n\nAnd if it should seem as though the chivalry of our own times is\nreduced to something less noble than that of old, when men risked life,\nand things dearer than life, in defending the weak and attacking the\noppressor in his strongholds\u2014when the hardness of the actual fight\nagainst evil-doers was not exaggerated in the romances which pictured\nthe knights contending with dragons and enchanters and giants\u2014we must\nremember that our nineteenth century world is yet far from cleared of\nthe monstrous powers of evil, which still oppress and devour the weak;\nand that a battle, not really less resolute, nor, if need be, less\ndesperate, than those of old, is still carried on by those who, under\nthe modest guise of common life, are fighting in the true spirit of\nchivalry\u2014uniting the most adventurous enthusiasm with the most patient\nendurance, and both with the gentlest service of the poor, the weak,\nand the oppressed; and, what is most worthy of admiration, the service\nof the morally poor, and weak, and oppressed, who, but for such\ndeliverers, must remain in a house of bondage darker than can be built\nor barred by earthly hands.\n\nBut whether we are content with the chivalry of manners, or aspire to a\nplace in the brotherhood of the chivalry of action, our principles, our\nmaxims, and our examples have come down to us as an inheritance from\nthe past:\u2014an inheritance common to all who care to claim it; and won\nfor us by the old knights, fighting in the name of God and of their\nladies[46].\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n THE BOOK OF\n\n KING ARTHUR\n\n AND OF HIS NOBLE\n\n KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n PREFACE OF WILLIAM CAXTON.\n\n\nAfter that I had accomplished and finished divers histories, as well of\ncontemplation as of other historial and worldly acts of great\nconquerors and princes, and also certain books of ensamples and\ndoctrine, many noble and divers gentlemen of this realm of England came\nand demanded me many and ofttimes, wherefore that I have not do made\nand imprint the noble history of the Saint Greal, and of the most\nrenowned Christian king, first and chief of the three best Christian,\nand worthy, king Arthur, which ought most to be remembered amongst us\nEnglishmen tofore all other Christian kings; for it is notoriously\nknown through the universal world, that there be nine worthy and the\nbest that ever were, that is to wit, three Paynims, three Jews, and\nthree Christian men. As for the Paynims, they were tofore the\nIncarnation of Christ, which were named, the first Hector of Troy, of\nwhom the history is comen both in ballad and in prose, the second\nAlexander the Great, and the third Julius C\u00e6sar, Emperor of Rome, of\nwhom the histories be well known and had. And as for the three Jews,\nwhich also were tofore the incarnation of our Lord, of whom the first\nwas duke Joshua which brought the children of Israel into the land of\nbehest, the second David king of Jerusalem, and the third Judas\nMachabeus. Of these three the Bible rehearseth all their noble\nhistories and acts. And since the said incarnation have been three\nnoble Christian men, stalled and admitted through the universal world\ninto the number of the nine best and worthy. Of whom was first the\nnoble Arthur, whose noble acts I purpose to write in this present book\nhere following. The second was Charlemain, or Charles the Great, of\nwhom the history is had in many places, both in French and in English.\nAnd the third and last was Godfrey of Boloine, of whose acts and life I\nmade a book unto the excellent prince and king of noble memory, king\nEdward the Fourth. The said noble gentlemen instantly required me to\nimprint the history of the said noble king and conqueror king Arthur,\nand of his knights, with the history of the Saint Greal, and of the\ndeath and ending of the said Arthur; affirming that I ought rather to\nimprint his acts and noble feats, than of Godfrey of Boloine, or any of\nthe other eight, considering that he was a man born within this realm,\nand king and emperor of the same: and that there be in French divers\nand many noble volumes of his acts, and also of his knights. To whom I\nanswered that divers men hold opinion that there was no such Arthur,\nand that all such books as been made of him, be but feigned and fables,\nbecause that some chronicles make of him no mention, nor remember him\nnothing, nor of his knights. Whereto they answered, and one in special\nsaid, that in him that should say or think that there was never such a\nking called Arthur, might well be aretted great folly and blindness.\nFor he said that there were many evidences of the contrary. First ye\nmay see his sepulchre in the monastery of Glastingbury. And also in\nPolicronicon, in the fifth book the sixth chapter, and in the seventh\nbook the twenty-third chapter, where his body was buried, and after\nfound, and translated into the said monastery. Ye shall see also in the\nhistory of Bochas in his book _De Casu Principum_ part of his noble\nacts, and also of his fall. Also Galfridus in his British book\nrecounteth his life: and in divers places of England many remembrances\nbe yet of him, and shall remain perpetually, and also of his knights.\nFirst in the abbey of Westminster, at St. Edward\u2019s shrine, remaineth\nthe print of his seal in red wax closed in beryl, in which is written,\n_Patricius Arthurus Britannie, Gallie, Germanie, Dacie, Imperator_.\nItem in the castle of Dover ye may see Gawaine\u2019s scull, and Cradok\u2019s\nmantle: at Winchester the Round Table: in other places Launcelot\u2019s\nsword and many other things. Then all these things considered, there\ncan no man reasonably gainsay but that there was a king of this land\nnamed Arthur. For in all places, Christian and heathen, he is reputed\nand taken for one of the nine worthy, and the first of the three\nChristian men. And also, he is more spoken of beyond the sea, more\nbooks made of his noble acts, than there be in England, as well in\nDutch, Italian, Spanish, and Greekish, as in French. And yet of record\nremain in witness of him in Wales, in the town of Camelot, the great\nstones and the marvellous works of iron lying under the ground, and\nroyal vaults, which divers now living have seen. Wherefore it is a\nmarvel why he is no more renowned in his own country, save only it\naccordeth to the Word of God, which saith that no man is accepted for a\nprophet in his own country. Then all these things aforesaid alleged, I\ncould not well deny but that there was such a noble king named Arthur,\nand reputed one of the nine worthy, and first and chief of the\nChristian men. And many noble volumes be made of him and of his noble\nknights in French, which I have seen and read beyond the sea, which be\nnot had in our maternal tongue. But in Welsh be many and also in\nFrench, and some in English but no where nigh all. Wherefore, such as\nhave late been drawn out briefly into English I have after the simple\nconning that God hath sent to me, under the favour and correction of\nall noble lords and gentlemen, enprised to imprint a book of the noble\nhistories of the said king Arthur, and of certain of his knights, after\na copy unto me delivered, which copy Sir Thomas Malorye did take out of\ncertain books of French, and reduced it into English. And I, according\nto my copy, have down set it in print, to the intent that noble men may\nsee and learn the noble acts of chivalry, the gentle and virtuous deeds\nthat some knights used in those days, by which they came to honour, and\nhow they that were vicious were punished and oft put to shame and\nrebuke; humbly beseeching all noble lords and ladies, with all other\nestates of what estate or degree they been of, that shall see and read\nin this said book and work, that they take the good and honest acts in\ntheir remembrance, and to follow the same. Wherein they shall find many\njoyous and pleasant histories, and noble and renowned acts of humanity,\ngentleness, and chivalry. For herein may be seen noble chivalry,\ncourtesy, humanity, friendliness, hardiness, love, friendship,\ncowardice, murder, hate, virtue, and sin. Do after the good and leave\nthe evil, and it shall bring you to good fame and renommee. And for to\npass the time this book shall be pleasant to read in, but for to give\nfaith and belief that all is true that is contained herein, ye be at\nyour liberty: but all is written for our doctrine, and for to beware\nthat we fall not to vice nor sin, but to exercise and follow virtue, by\nthe which we may come and attain to good fame and renown in this life,\nand after this short and transitory life to come unto everlasting bliss\nin heaven; the which He grant us that reigneth in heaven, the blessed\nTrinity. Amen.\n\nThen to proceed forth in this said book, the which I direct unto all\nnoble princes, lords and ladies, gentlemen or gentlewomen, that desire\nto read or hear read of the noble and joyous history of the great\nconqueror and excellent king, King Arthur, sometime king of this noble\nrealm, then called Britain; I, William Caxton, simple person, present\nthis book following, which I have enprised to imprint: and treateth of\nthe noble acts, feats of arms of chivalry, prowess, hardiness,\nhumanity, love, courtesy, and very gentleness, with many wonderful\nhistories and adventures. And for to understand briefly the content of\nthis volume, I have divided it into XXI Books, and every book\nchaptered, as hereafter shall by God\u2019s grace follow. The First Book\nshall treat how Uther Pendragon gat the noble conqueror king Arthur,\nand containeth xxviii chapters. The Second Book treateth of Balin the\nnoble knight, and containeth xix chapters. The Third Book treateth of\nthe marriage of king Arthur to queen Guenever, with other matters, and\ncontaineth xv chapters. The Fourth Book, how Merlin was assotted, and\nof war made to king Arthur, and containeth xxix chapters. The Fifth\nBook treateth of the conquest of Lucius the emperor, and containeth xii\nchapters. The Sixth Book treateth of Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel, and\nmarvellous adventures, and containeth xviii chapters. The Seventh Book\ntreateth of a noble knight called Sir Gareth, and named by Sir Kay\nBeaumains, and containeth xxxvi chapters. The Eighth Book treateth of\nthe birth of Sir Tristram the noble knight, and of his acts, and\ncontaineth xli chapters. The Ninth Book treateth of a knight named by\nSir Kay Le Cote male taille, and also of Sir Tristram, and containeth\nxliv chapters. The Tenth Book treateth of Sir Tristram, and other\nmarvellous adventures, and containeth lxxxviii chapters. The Eleventh\nBook treateth of Sir Launcelot and Sir Galahad, and containeth xiv\nchapters. The Twelfth Book treateth of Sir Launcelot and his madness,\nand containeth xiv chapters. The Thirteenth Book treateth how Galahad\ncame first to king Arthur\u2019s court, and the quest how the Sangreal was\nbegun, and containeth xx chapters. The Fourteenth Book treateth of the\nquest of the Sangreal, and containeth x chapters. The Fifteenth Book\ntreateth of Sir Launcelot, and containeth vi chapters. The Sixteenth\nBook treateth of Sir Bors and Sir Lionel his brother, and containeth\nxvii chapters. The Seventeenth Book treateth of the Sangreal, and\ncontaineth xxiii chapters. The Eighteenth Book treateth of Sir\nLauncelot and the queen, and containeth xxv chapters. The Nineteenth\nBook treateth of queen Guenever and Launcelot, and containeth xiii\nchapters. The Twentieth Book treateth of the piteous death of Arthur,\nand containeth xxii chapters. The Twenty-first Book treateth of his\nlast departing, and how Sir Launcelot came to revenge his death, and\ncontaineth xiii chapters. The sum is twenty-one books, which contain\nthe sum of five hundred and seven chapters, as more plainly shall\nfollow hereafter.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n The Table or Rubrysshe\n of the\n Content of Chapters.\n\n\n Shortly of the First Book of King Arthur.\n\n\nFirst how Uther Pendragon sent for the duke of Cornwall and Igraine his\n wife, and of their departing suddenly again. Chap. i.\n\nHow Uther Pendragon made war on the duke of Cornwall, and how by the\n means of Merlin he made the duchess his queen. Chap. ii.\n\nOf the birth of king Arthur, and of his nouriture, and of the death of\n king Uther Pendragon; and how Arthur was chosen king; and of wonders\n and marvels of a sword that was taken out of a stone by the said\n Arthur. Chap. iii.\n\nHow king Arthur pulled out the sword divers times. Chap. iv.\n\nHow king Arthur was crowned and how he made officers. Chap. v.\n\nHow king Arthur held in Wales, at a Pentecost, a great feast, and what\n kings and lords came to his feast. Chap. vi.\n\nOf the first war that king Arthur had, and how he won the field. Chap.\n vii.\n\nHow Merlin counselled king Arthur to send for king Ban and king Bors,\n and of their counsel taken for the war. Chap. viii.\n\nOf a great tourney made by king Arthur and the two kings Ban and Bors,\n and how they went over the sea. Chap. ix.\n\nHow eleven kings gathered a great host against king Arthur. Chap. x.\n\nOf a dream of the king with the hundred knights. Chap. xi.\n\nHow the eleven kings with their host fought against Arthur and his\n host, and many great feats of the war. Chap. xii.\n\nYet of the same battle. Chap. xiii.\n\nYet more of the same battle. Chap. xiv.\n\nYet more of the said battle, and how it was ended by Merlin. Chap. xv.\n\nHow king Arthur, king Ban, and king Bors rescued king Leodegrance, and\n other incidents. Chap. xvi.\n\nHow king Arthur rode to Carlion, and of his dream, and how he saw the\n questing beast. Chap. xvii.\n\nHow king Pellinore took Arthur\u2019s horse and followed the questing beast,\n and how Merlin met with Arthur. Chap. xviii.\n\nHow Ulfius appeached queen Igraine, Arthur\u2019s mother, of treason; and\n how a knight came and desired to have the death of his master\n revenged. Chap. xix.\n\nHow Griflet was made knight and justed with a knight. Chap. xx.\n\nHow twelve knights came from Rome and asked truage for this land of\n Arthur, and how Arthur fought with a knight. Chap. xxi.\n\nHow Merlin saved Arthur\u2019s life, and threw an enchantment upon king\n Pellinore, and made him to sleep. Chap. xxii.\n\nHow Arthur by the mean of Merlin got Excalibur his sword of the Lady of\n the Lake. Chap. xxiii.\n\nHow tidings came to Arthur that king Ryons had overcome eleven kings,\n and how he desired Arthur\u2019s beard to trim his mantle. Chap. xxiv.\n\nHow all the children were sent for that were born on May-day, and how\n Mordred was saved. Chap. xxv.\n\n\n The Second Book.\n\nOf a damsel which came girded with a sword, for to find a man of such\n virtue to draw it out of the scabbard. Chap. i.\n\nHow Balin, arrayed like a poor knight, pulled out the sword, which\n afterward was cause of his death. Chap. ii.\n\nHow the Lady of the Lake demanded the knight\u2019s head that had won the\n sword, or the maiden\u2019s head. Chap. iii.\n\nHow Merlin told the adventure of this damsel. Chap. iv.\n\nHow Balin was pursued by Sir Lanceor, knight of Ireland, and how he\n justed and slew him. Chap. v.\n\nHow a damsel which was love to Lanceor, slew herself for love, and how\n Balin met with his brother Balan. Chap. vi.\n\nHow a dwarf reproved Balin for the death of Lanceor, and how king Mark\n of Cornwall found them, and made a tomb over them. Chap. vii.\n\nHow Merlin prophesied that two the best knights of the world should\n fight there, which were Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristram. Chap. viii.\n\nHow Balin and his brother, by the counsel of Merlin, took king Ryons\n and brought him to king Arthur. Chap. ix.\n\nHow king Arthur had a battle against Nero and king Lot of Orkney; and\n how king Lot was deceived by Merlin, and how twelve kings were slain.\n Chap. x.\n\nOf the interment of twelve kings, and of the prophecy of Merlin how\n Balin should give the dolorous stroke. Chap. xi.\n\nHow a sorrowful knight came tofore Arthur, and how Balin fetched him,\n and how that knight was slain by a knight invisible. Chap. xii.\n\nHow Balin and the damsel met with a knight which was in like wise\n slain, and how the damsel bled for the custom of a castle. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow Balin met with that knight named Garlon at a feast, and there he\n slew him to have his blood to heal therewith the son of his host.\n Chap. xiv.\n\nHow Balin fought with king Pellam, and how his sword brake, and how he\n gat a spear, wherewith he smote the dolorous stroke. Chap. xv.\n\nHow Balin was delivered by Merlin, and saved a knight that would have\n slain himself for love. Chap. xvi.\n\nHow that knight slew his love, and a knight with her; and after how he\n slew himself with his own sword, and how Balin rode toward a castle\n where he lost his life. Chap. xvii.\n\nHow Balin met with his brother Balan, and how each of them slew other\n unknown, till they were wounded to death. Chap. xviii.\n\nHow Merlin buried them both in one tomb, and of Balin\u2019s sword. Chap.\n xix.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Third Book.\n\nHow king Arthur took a wife, and wedded Guenever daughter to\n Leodegrance, king of the land of Cameliard, with whom he had the\n Round Table. Chap. i.\n\nHow the knights of the Round Table were ordained and their sieges\n blessed by the bishop of Canterbury. Chap. ii.\n\nHow a poor man riding upon a lean mare desired of king Arthur to make\n his son knight. Chap. iii.\n\nHow Sir Tor was known for son of king Pellinore, and how Gawaine was\n made knight. Chap. iv.\n\nHow at the feast of the wedding of king Arthur to Guenever, a white\n hart came into the hall, and thirty couple hounds, and how a brachet\n pinched the hart, which was taken away. Chap. v.\n\nHow Sir Gawaine rode for to fetch again the hart, and how two brethren\n fought each against other for the hart. Chap. vi.\n\nHow the hart was chased into a castle, and there slain; and how Gawaine\n slew a lady. Chap. vii.\n\nHow four knights fought against Sir Gawaine and Gaheris, and how they\n were overcome and their lives saved at the request of four ladies.\n Chap. viii.\n\nHow Sir Tor rode after the knight with the brachet, and of his\n adventure by the way. Chap. ix.\n\nHow Sir Tor found the brachet with a lady, and how a knight assailed\n him for the said brachet. Chap. x.\n\nHow Sir Tor overcame the knight, and how he lost his head at the\n request of a lady. Chap. xi.\n\nHow king Pellinore rode after the lady and the knight that led her\n away, and how a lady desired help of him, and how he fought with two\n knights for that lady, of whom he slew that one at the first stroke.\n Chap. xii.\n\nHow king Pellinore gat the lady, and brought her to Camelot to the\n court of king Arthur. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow on the way he heard two knights as he lay by night in a valley, and\n of other adventures. Chap. xiv.\n\nHow when he was come to Camelot he was sworn upon a book to tell the\n truth of his quest. Chap. xv.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Fourth Book.\n\nHow Merlin was assotted, and doted on one of the ladies of the lake,\n and how he was shut in a rock under a stone, and there died. Chap. i.\n\nHow five kings came into this land to war against king Arthur, and what\n counsel Arthur had against them. Chap. ii.\n\nHow king Arthur had ado with them, and overthrew them, and slew the\n five kings, and made the remnant to flee. Chap. iii.\n\nHow the battle was finished or he came, and how the king founded an\n abbey where the battle was. Chap. iv.\n\nHow Sir Tor was made knight of the Round Table, and how Bagdemagus was\n displeased. Chap. v.\n\nHow king Arthur, king Uriens, and Sir Accolon of Gaul chased an hart,\n and of their marvellous adventure. Chap. vi.\n\nHow Arthur took upon him to fight, to be delivered out of prison, and\n also for to deliver twenty knights that were in prison. Chap. vii.\n\nHow Accolon found himself by a well, and he took upon him to do battle\n against Arthur. Chap. viii.\n\nOf the battle between king Arthur and Accolon. Chap. ix.\n\nHow king Arthur\u2019s sword that he fought with brake, and how he recovered\n of Accolon his own sword Excalibur, and overcame his enemy. Chap. x.\n\nHow Accolon confessed the treason of Morgan le fay, king Arthur\u2019s\n sister, and how she would have done slay him. Chap. xi.\n\nHow Arthur accorded the two brethren, and delivered the twenty knights,\n and how Sir Accolon died. Chap. xii.\n\nHow Morgan would have slain Sir Uriens her husband, and how Sir Ewain\n her son saved him. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow queen Morgan le fay made great sorrow for the death of Accolon, and\n how she stole away the scabbard from Arthur. Chap. xiv.\n\nHow Morgan le fay saved a knight that should have been drowned, and how\n king Arthur returned home again. Chap. xv.\n\nHow the damsel of the lake saved king Arthur from a mantle which should\n have burnt him. Chap. xvi.\n\nHow Sir Gawaine and Sir Ewain met with twelve fair damsels, and how\n they complained on Sir Marhaus. Chap. xvii.\n\nHow Sir Marhaus justed with Sir Gawaine and Sir Ewain, and overthrew\n them both. Chap. xviii.\n\nHow Sir Marhaus, Sir Gawaine, and Sir Ewain met three damsels, and each\n of them took one. Chap. xix.\n\nHow a knight and a dwarf strove for a lady. Chap. xx.\n\nHow king Pelleas suffered himself to be taken prisoner because he would\n have a sight of his lady, and how Sir Gawaine promised him for to get\n to him the love of his lady. Chap. xxi.\n\nHow Sir Gawaine came to the lady Ettard, and how Sir Pelleas found them\n sleeping. Chap. xxii.\n\nHow Sir Pelleas loved no more Ettard, by the mean of the damsel of the\n lake, whom he loved ever after. Chap. xxiii.\n\nHow Sir Marhaus rode with the damsel, and how he came to the duke of\n the South Marches. Chap. xxiv.\n\nHow Sir Marhaus fought with the duke and his six sons, and made them to\n yield them. Chap. xxv.\n\nHow Sir Ewain rode with the damsel of sixty year of age, and how he gat\n the prize at tourneying. Chap. xxvi.\n\nHow Sir Ewain fought with two knights, and overcame them. Chap. xxvii.\n\nHow at the year\u2019s end all three knights with their three damsels met at\n the fountain. Chap. xxviii.\n\n\n Of the Fifth Book the Chapters follow.\n\nHow twelve aged ambassadors of Rome came to king Arthur to demand\n truage for Britain. Chap. i.\n\nHow the kings and lords promised to king Arthur aid and help against\n the Romans. Chap. ii.\n\nHow king Arthur held a parliament at York, and how he ordained how the\n realm should be governed in his absence. Chap. iii.\n\nHow king Arthur being shipped, and lying in his cabin, had a marvellous\n dream, and of the exposition thereof. Chap. iv.\n\nHow a man of the country told to him of a marvellous giant, and how he\n fought and conquered him. Chap. v.\n\nHow king Arthur sent Sir Gawaine and other to Lucius, and how they were\n assailed and escaped with worship. Chap. vi.\n\nHow Lucius sent certain spies in a bushment, for to have taken his\n knights, being prisoners, and how they were letted. Chap. vii.\n\nHow a senator told to Lucius of their discomfiture, and also of the\n great battle between Arthur and Lucius. Chap. viii.\n\nHow Arthur, after he had achieved the battle against the Romans,\n entered into Almaine, and so into Italy. Chap. ix.\n\nOf a battle done by Gawaine against a Saracen, which after was yielden\n and became Christian. Chap. x.\n\nHow the Saracens came out of a wood for to rescue their beasts, and of\n a great battle. Chap. xi.\n\nHow Sir Gawaine returned to king Arthur with his prisoners, and how the\n king won a city, and how he was crowned emperor. Chap. xii.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Sixth Book.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel departed from the court for to seek\n adventures, and how Sir Lionel left him sleeping, and was taken.\n Chap. i.\n\nHow Sir Ector followed for to seek Sir Launcelot, and how he was taken\n by Sir Turquine. Chap. ii.\n\nHow four queens found Launcelot sleeping, and how by enchantment he was\n taken and led into a castle. Chap. iii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot was delivered by the mean of a damsel. Chap. iv.\n\nHow a knight found Sir Launcelot, and how Sir Launcelot fought with the\n knight. Chap. v.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot was received of king Bagdemagus\u2019s daughter, and he\n made his complaint to her father. Chap. vi.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot behaved him in a tournament, and how he met with Sir\n Turquine leading Sir Gaheris. Chap. vii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot and Sir Turquine fought together. Chap. viii.\n\nHow Sir Turquine was slain, and how Sir Launcelot bad Sir Gaheris\n deliver all the prisoners. Chap. ix.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot rode with the damsel and slew a knight that\n distressed all ladies, and also a villain that kept a bridge. Chap. x.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot slew two giants, and made a castle free. Chap. xi.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot rode disguised in Sir Kay\u2019s harness, and how he smote\n down a knight. Chap. xii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot jousted against four knights of the Round Table, and\n overthrew them. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot followed a brachet into a castle, where he found a\n dead knight, and how he after was required of a damsel to heal her\n brother. Chap. xiv.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot came into the Chapel Perilous, and gat there of a\n dead corpse a piece of the cloth and a sword. Chap. xv.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot, at the request of a lady, recovered a falcon, by\n which he was deceived. Chap. xvi.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot overtook a knight which chased his wife to have slain\n her, and how he said to him. Chap. xvii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot came to king Arthur\u2019s court, and how there were\n recounted all his noble feats and acts. Chap. xviii.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Seventh Book.\n\nHow Beaumains came to king Arthur\u2019s court, and demanded three petitions\n of king Arthur. Chap. i.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine were wroth because Sir Kay mocked\n Beaumains, and of a damsel which desired a knight for to fight for a\n lady. Chap. ii.\n\nHow Beaumains desired the battle, and how it was granted to him, and\n how he desired to be made knight of Sir Launcelot. Chap. iii.\n\nHow Beaumains departed, and how he gat of Sir Kay a spear and a shield,\n and how he justed and fought with Sir Launcelot. Chap. iv.\n\nHow Beaumains told to Sir Launcelot his name, and how he was dubbed\n knight of Sir Launcelot, and after overtook the damsel. Chap. v.\n\nHow Sir Beaumains fought and slew two knights at a passage. Chap. vi.\n\nHow Beaumains fought with the knight of the black lands, and fought\n with him till he fell down and died. Chap. vii.\n\nHow the brother of the knight that was slain met with Beaumains, and\n fought with Beaumains till he was yielden. Chap. viii.\n\nHow the damsel ever rebuked Beaumains, and would not suffer him to sit\n at her table, but called him kitchen boy. Chap. ix.\n\nHow the third brother, called the red knight, jousted and fought\n against Beaumains, and how Beaumains overcame him. Chap. x.\n\nHow Sir Beaumains suffered great rebukes of the damsel, and he suffered\n it patiently. Chap. xi.\n\nHow Sir Beaumains fought with Sir Persant of inde, and made him to be\n yielden. Chap. xii.\n\nOf the goodly communication between Sir Persant and Beaumains, and how\n he told him that his name was Sir Gareth. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow the lady that was besieged had word from her sister how she had\n brought a knight to fight for her, and what battles he had achieved.\n Chap. xiv.\n\nHow the damsel and Beaumains came to the siege, and came to a sycamore\n tree, and there Beaumains blew an horn, and then the knight of the\n red lands came to fight with him. Chap. xv.\n\nHow the two knights met together, and of their talking, and how they\n began their battle. Chap. xvi.\n\nHow after long fighting Beaumains overcame the knight and would have\n slain him, but at the request of the lords he saved his life, and\n made him to yield him to the lady. Chap. xvii.\n\nHow the knight yielded him, and how Beaumains made him to go unto king\n Arthur\u2019s court, and to cry Sir Launcelot mercy. Chap. xviii.\n\nHow Beaumains came to the lady, and when he came to the castle the\n gates were closed against him, and of the words that the lady said to\n him. Chap. xix.\n\nHow Sir Beaumains rode after to rescue his dwarf, and came into the\n castle where he was. Chap. xx.\n\nHow Sir Gareth, otherwise called Beaumains, came to the presence of his\n lady, and how they took acquaintance, and of their love. Chap. xxi.\n\nHow at night came an armed knight, and fought with Sir Gareth, and he,\n sore hurt in the thigh, smote off the knight\u2019s head. Chap. xxii.\n\nHow the said knight came again the next night, and was beheaded again.\n And how at the feast of Pentecost all the knights that Sir Gareth had\n overcome came and yielded them to king Arthur. Chap. xxiii.\n\nHow king Arthur pardoned them, and demanded of them where Sir Gareth\n was. Chap. xxiv.\n\nHow the queen of Orkney came to this feast of Pentecost, and Sir\n Gawaine and his brethren came to ask her blessing. Chap. xxv.\n\nHow king Arthur sent for the lady Liones, and how she let cry a tourney\n at her castle, where as came many knights. Chap. xxvi.\n\nHow king Arthur went to the tournament with his knights, and how the\n lady received him worshipfully, and how the knights encountered.\n Chap. xxvii.\n\nHow the knights bare them in battle. Chap. xxviii.\n\nYet of the said tournament. Chap. xxix.\n\nHow Sir Gareth was espied by the heralds, and how he escaped out of the\n field. Chap. xxx.\n\nHow Sir Gareth came to a castle where he was well lodged, and how he\n justed with a knight and slew him. Chap. xxxi.\n\nHow Sir Gareth fought with a knight that held within his castle thirty\n ladies, and how he slew him. Chap. xxxii.\n\nHow Sir Gawaine and Sir Gareth fought each against other, and how they\n knew each other by the damsel Linet. Chap. xxxiii.\n\nHow Sir Gareth acknowledged that they loved each other to king Arthur,\n and of the appointment of their wedding. Chap. xxxiv.\n\nOf the great royalty, and what officers were made at the feast of the\n wedding, and of the justs at the feast. Chap. xxxv.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Eighth Book.\n\nHow Sir Tristram de Liones was born, and how his mother died at his\n birth, wherefore she named him Tristram. Chap. i.\n\nHow the step-mother of Sir Tristram had ordained poison for to have\n poisoned Sir Tristram. Chap. ii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram was sent into France, and had one to govern him named\n Gouvernail, and how he learned to harp, hawk, and hunt. Chap. iii.\n\nHow Sir Marhaus came out of Ireland for to ask truage of Cornwall, or\n else he would fight therefore. Chap. iv.\n\nHow Tristram enterprized the battle to fight for the truage of\n Cornwall, and how he was made knight. Chap. v.\n\nHow Sir Tristram arrived into the island for to furnish the battle with\n Sir Marhaus. Chap. vi.\n\nHow Sir Tristram fought against Sir Marhaus, and achieved his battle,\n and how Sir Marhaus fled to his ship. Chap. vii.\n\nHow Sir Marhaus, after that he was arrived in Ireland, died of the\n stroke that Tristram had given to him, and how Tristram was hurt.\n Chap. viii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram was put to the keeping of La Beale Isoud, for to be\n healed of his wound. Chap. ix.\n\nHow Sir Tristram won the degree at a tournament in Ireland, and there\n made Palamides to bear no harness in a year. Chap. x.\n\nHow the queen espied that Sir Tristram had slain her brother, Sir\n Marhaus, by his sword, and in what jeopardy he was. Chap. xi.\n\nHow Sir Tristram departed from the king and La Beale Isoud out of\n Ireland for to come into Cornwall. Chap. xii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram and king Mark hurt each other for the love of a\n knight\u2019s wife. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram came to the lady, and how her husband fought with Sir\n Tristram. Chap. xiv.\n\nHow Sir Bleoberis demanded the fairest lady in king Mark\u2019s court, whom\n he took away, and how he was fought with. Chap. xv.\n\nHow Sir Tristram fought with two knights of the Round Table. Chap. xvi.\n\nHow Sir Tristram fought with Sir Bleoberis for a lady, and how the lady\n was put to choice to whom she would go. Chap. xvii.\n\nHow the lady forsook Sir Tristram and abode with Sir Bleoberis, and how\n she desired to go to her husband. Chap. xviii.\n\nHow king Mark sent Sir Tristram for La Beale Isoud toward Ireland, and\n how by fortune he arrived into England. Chap. xix.\n\nHow king Anguish of Ireland was summoned to come to king Arthur\u2019s court\n for treason. Chap. xx.\n\nHow Sir Tristram rescued a child from a knight, and how Gouvernail told\n him of king Anguish. Chap. xxi.\n\nHow Sir Tristram fought for Sir Anguish and overcame his adversary, and\n how his adversary would never yield him. Chap. xxii.\n\nHow Sir Blamor desired Tristram to slay him, and how Sir Tristram\n spared him, and how they took appointment. Chap. xxiii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram demanded La Beale Isoud for king Mark, and how Sir\n Tristram and Isoud drank the love drink. Chap. xxiv.\n\nHow Sir Tristram and Isoud were in prison, and how he fought for her\n beauty, and smote off another lady\u2019s head. Chap. xxv.\n\nHow Sir Tristram fought with Sir Breunor, and at the last smote off his\n head. Chap. xxvi.\n\nHow Sir Galahad fought with Sir Tristram, and how Sir Tristram yielded\n him and promised to fellowship with Launcelot. Chap. xxvii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot met with Sir Carados bearing away Sir Gawaine, and of\n the rescue of Sir Gawaine. Chap. xxviii.\n\nOf the wedding of king Mark to La Beale Isoud, and of Bragwaine her\n maid, and of Palamides. Chap. xxix.\n\nHow Palamides demanded queen Isoud, and how Lambegus rode after to\n rescue her, and of the escape of Isoud. Chap. xxx.\n\nHow Sir Tristram rode after Palamides, and how he found him and fought\n with him, and by the mean of Isoud the battle ceased. Chap. xxxi.\n\nHow Sir Tristram brought queen Isoud home, and of the debate of king\n Mark and Sir Tristram. Chap. xxxii.\n\nHow Sir Lamorak justed with thirty knights, and Sir Tristram at the\n request of king Mark smote his horse down. Chap. xxxiii.\n\nHow Sir Lamorak sent an horn to king Mark in despite of Sir Tristram,\n and how Sir Tristram was driven into a chapel. Chap. xxxiv.\n\nHow Sir Tristram was holpen by his men, and of queen Isoud, which was\n put in a lazarcote, and how Tristram was hurt. Chap. xxxv.\n\nHow Sir Tristram served in war the king Howell of Britain and slew his\n adversary in the field. Chap. xxxvi.\n\nHow Sir Suppinabiles told Sir Tristram how he was defamed in the court\n of king Arthur, and of Sir Lamorak. Chap. xxxvii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram and his wife arrived in Wales, and how he met there\n with Sir Lamorak. Chap. xxxviii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram fought with Sir Nabon and overcame him, and made Sir\n Lamorak lord of the isle. Chap. xxxix.\n\nHow Sir Lamorak departed from Sir Tristram, and how he met with Sir\n Frol, and after with Sir Launcelot. Chap. xl.\n\nHow Sir Lamorak slew Sir Frol, and of the courteous fighting with Sir\n Belliance his brother. Chap. xli.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Ninth Book.\n\nHow a young man came into the court of king Arthur, and how Sir Kay\n called him in scorn La Cote Male Taile. Chap. i.\n\nHow a damsel came unto the court and desired a knight to take on him an\n inquest, which La Cote Male Taile emprized. Chap. ii.\n\nHow La Cote Male Taile overthrew Sir Dagonet the king\u2019s fool, and of\n the rebuke that he had of the damsel. Chap. iii.\n\nHow La Cote Male Taile fought against an hundred knights, and how he\n escaped by the mean of a lady. Chap. iv.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot came to the court and heard of La Cote Male Taile,\n and how he followed after him, and how La Cote Male Taile was\n prisoner. Chap. v.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot fought with six knights, and after with Sir Brian,\n and how he delivered the prisoners. Chap. vi.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot met with the damsel named Maledisant, and named her\n the damsel Bienpensant. Chap. vii.\n\nHow La Cote Male Taile was taken prisoner, and after rescued by Sir\n Launcelot, and how Sir Launcelot overcame four brethren. Chap. viii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot made La Cote Male Taile lord of the castle of\n Pendragon, and after was made knight of the Round Table. Chap. ix.\n\nHow La Beale Isoud sent letters unto Sir Tristram by her maid\n Bragwaine, and of divers adventures of Sir Tristram. Chap. x.\n\nHow Sir Tristram met with Sir Lamorak de Galis, and how they fought,\n and after accorded never to fight together. Chap. xi.\n\nHow Sir Palamides followed the questing beast, and how he smote down\n both Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorak with one spear. Chap. xii.\n\nHow Sir Lamorak met with Sir Meliagance, and fought together for the\n beauty of queen Guenever. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow Sir Meliagance told for what cause they fought, and how Sir Lamorak\n justed with king Arthur. Chap. xiv.\n\nHow Sir Kay met with Sir Tristram, and after of the shame spoken of the\n knights of Cornwall, and how they justed. Chap. xv.\n\nHow king Arthur was brought into the Forest Perilous, and how Sir\n Tristram saved his life. Chap. xvi.\n\nHow Sir Tristram came to La Beale Isoud, and how Kehydius began to love\n La Beale Isoud, and of a letter that Tristram found. Chap. xvii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram departed from Tintagil, and how he sorrowed, and was\n so long in a forest till he was out of his mind. Chap. xviii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram soused Dagonet in a well, and how Palamides sent a\n damsel to seek Tristram, and how Palamides met with king Mark. Chap.\n xix.\n\nHow it was noised how Sir Tristram was dead, and how La Beale Isoud\n would have slain herself. Chap. xx.\n\nHow king Mark found Sir Tristram naked, and made him to be borne home\n to Tintagil, and how he was there known by a brachet. Chap. xxi.\n\nHow king Mark, by the advice of his council, banished Sir Tristram out\n of Cornwall the term of ten year. Chap. xxii.\n\nHow a damsel sought help to help Sir Launcelot against thirty knights,\n and how Sir Tristram fought with them. Chap. xxiii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram and Sir Dinadan came to a lodging where they must just\n with two knights. Chap. xxiv.\n\nHow Sir Tristram justed with Sir Kay and Sir Sagramor le Desirous, and\n how Sir Gawaine turned Sir Tristram from Morgan le Fay. Chap. xxv.\n\nHow Sir Tristram and Sir Gawaine rode to have fought against the thirty\n knights, but they durst not come out. Chap. xxvi.\n\nHow damsel Bragwaine found Tristram sleeping by a well, and how she\n delivered letters to him from Beale Isoud. Chap. xxvii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram had a fall of Sir Palamides, and how Launcelot\n overthrew two knights. Chap. xxviii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot justed with Palamides and overthrew him, and after he\n was assailed with twelve knights. Chap. xxix.\n\nHow Sir Tristram behaved him the first day of the tournament, and there\n he had the prize. Chap. xxx.\n\nHow Sir Tristram returned against king Arthur\u2019s party, because he saw\n Sir Palamides on that party. Chap. xxxi.\n\nHow Sir Tristram found Palamides by a well, and brought him with him to\n his lodging. Chap. xxxii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram smote down Sir Palamides, and how he justed with king\n Arthur, and other feats. Chap. xxxiii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot hurt Sir Tristram, and how after Sir Tristram smote\n down Sir Palamides. Chap. xxxiv.\n\nHow the prize of the third day was given to Sir Launcelot, and Sir\n Launcelot gave it unto Sir Tristram. Chap. xxxv.\n\nHow Sir Palamides came to the castle where Sir Tristram was, and of the\n quest that Sir Launcelot and ten knights made for Sir Tristram. Chap.\n xxxvi.\n\nHow Sir Tristram, Sir Palamides, and Sir Dinadan were taken and put in\n prison. Chap. xxxvii.\n\nHow king Mark was sorry for the good renown of Sir Tristram: some of\n Arthur\u2019s knights justed with knights of Cornwall. Chap. xxxviii.\n\nOf the treason of king Mark, and how Sir Gaheris smote him down, and\n Andred his cousin. Chap. xxxix.\n\nHow after that Sir Tristram, Sir Palamides, and Sir Dinadan had been\n long in prison they were delivered. Chap. xl.\n\nHow Sir Dinadan rescued a lady from Sir Breuse Saunce Pite, and how Sir\n Tristram received a shield of Morgan le Fay. Chap. xli.\n\nHow Sir Tristram took with him the shield, and also how he slew the\n paramour of Morgan le Fay. Chap. xlii.\n\nHow Morgan le Fay buried her paramour, and how Sir Tristram praised Sir\n Launcelot and his kin. Chap. xliii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram at a tournament bare the shield that Morgan le Fay had\n delivered him. Chap. xliv.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Tenth Book.\n\nHow Sir Tristram justed and smote down king Arthur, because he told him\n not the cause why he bare that shield. Chap. i.\n\nHow Sir Tristram saved Sir Palamides\u2019 life, and how they promised to\n fight together within a fortnight. Chap. ii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram sought a strong knight that had smitten him down, and\n many other knights of the Round Table. Chap. iii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram smote down Sir Sagramor le Desirous, and Sir Dodinas\n le Savage. Chap. iv.\n\nHow Sir Tristram met at the perron with Sir Launcelot, and how they\n fought together unknown. Chap. v.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot brought Sir Tristram to the court, and of the great\n joy that the king and other made for the coming of Sir Tristram.\n Chap. vi.\n\nHow for despite of Sir Tristram king Mark came with two knights into\n England, and how he slew one of the knights. Chap. vii.\n\nHow king Mark came to a fountain where he found Sir Lamorak complaining\n for the love of king Lot\u2019s wife. Chap. viii.\n\nHow king Mark, Sir Lamorak, and Sir Dinadan came to a castle, and how\n king Mark was known there. Chap. ix.\n\nHow Sir Berluse met with king Mark, and how Sir Dinadan took his part.\n Chap. x.\n\nHow king Mark mocked Sir Dinadan, and how they met with six knights of\n the Round Table. Chap. xi.\n\nHow the six knights sent Sir Dagonet to just with king Mark, and how\n king Mark refused him. Chap. xii.\n\nHow Sir Palamides by adventure met king Mark flying, and how he\n overthrew Dagonet and other knights. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow king Mark and Sir Dinadan heard Sir Palamides making great sorrow\n and mourning for La Beale Isoud. Chap. xiv.\n\nHow king Mark had slain Sir Amant wrongfully tofore king Arthur, and\n Sir Launcelot fetched king Mark to king Arthur. Chap. xv.\n\nHow Sir Dinadan told Sir Palamides of the battle between Sir Launcelot\n and Sir Tristram. Chap. xvi.\n\nHow Sir Lamorak justed with divers knights of the castle, wherein was\n Morgan le Fay. Chap. xvii.\n\nHow Sir Palamides would have justed for Sir Lamorak with the knights of\n the castle. Chap. xviii.\n\nHow Sir Lamorak justed with Sir Palamides and hurt him grievously.\n Chap. xix.\n\nHow it was told Sir Launcelot that Dagonet chased king Mark, and how a\n knight overthrew him and six knights. Chap. xx.\n\nHow king Arthur let do cry a justs, and how Sir Lamorak came in and\n overthrew Sir Gawaine and many other. Chap. xxi.\n\nHow king Arthur made king Mark to be accorded with Sir Tristram, and\n how they departed toward Cornwall. Chap. xxii.\n\nHow Sir Percivale was made knight of king Arthur, and how a dumb maid\n spake, and brought him to the Round Table. Chap. xxiii.\n\nHow Sir Lamorak visited king Lot\u2019s wife, and how Sir Gaheris slew her\n which was his own mother. Chap. xxiv.\n\nHow Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred met with a knight fleeing, and how\n they both were overthrown, and of Sir Dinadan. Chap. xxv.\n\nHow king Arthur, the queen, and Launcelot received letters out of\n Cornwall, and of the answer again. Chap. xxvi.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot was wroth with the letter that he received from king\n Mark, and of Dinadan, which made a lay of king Mark. Chap. xxvii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram was hurt, and of a war made to king Mark; and of Sir\n Tristram, how he promised to rescue him. Chap. xxviii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram overcame the battle, and how Elias desired a man to\n fight body for body. Chap. xxix.\n\nHow Sir Elias and Sir Tristram fought together for the truage, and how\n Sir Tristram slew Elias in the field. Chap. xxx.\n\nHow at a great feast that king Mark made, an harper came and sang the\n lay that Dinadan had made. Chap. xxxi.\n\nHow king Mark slew by treason his brother Boudwin, for good service\n that he had done to him. Chap. xxxii.\n\nHow Anglides, Boudwin\u2019s wife, escaped with her young son, Alisander le\n Orphelin, and came to the castle of Arundel. Chap. xxxiii.\n\nHow Anglides gave the bloody doublet to Alisander her son the same day\n that he was made knight, and the charge withal. Chap. xxxiv.\n\nHow it was told to king Mark of Alisander, and how he would have slain\n Sir Sadok for saving of his life. Chap. xxxv.\n\nHow Sir Alisander wan the prize at a tournament, and of Morgan le Fay;\n and how he fought with Sir Malgrin and slew him. Chap. xxxvi.\n\nHow queen Morgan le Fay had Alisander in her castle, and how she healed\n his wounds. Chap. xxxvii.\n\nHow Alisander was delivered from the queen Morgan le Fay by the means\n of a damsel. Chap. xxxviii.\n\nHow Alisander met with Alice la Beale Pilgrim, and how he justed with\n two knights; and after of him and of Sir Mordred. Chap. xxxix.\n\nHow Sir Galahalt did do cry a justs in Surluse, and queen Guenever\u2019s\n knights should just against all that would come. Chap. xl.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot fought in the tournament, and how Sir Palamides did\n arms there for a damsel. Chap. xli.\n\nHow Sir Galahalt and Palamides fought together, and of Sir Dinadan and\n Sir Galahalt. Chap. xlii.\n\nHow Sir Archad appealed Sir Palamides of treason, and how Sir Palamides\n slew him. Chap. xliii.\n\nOf the third day, and how Sir Palamides justed with Sir Lamorak, and\n other things. Chap. xliv.\n\nOf the fourth day, and of many great feats of arms. Chap. xlv.\n\nOf the fifth day, and how Sir Lamorak behaved him. Chap. xlvi.\n\nHow Sir Palamides fought with Corsabrin for a lady, and how Palamides\n slew Corsabrin. Chap. xlvii.\n\nOf the sixth day, and what then was done. Chap. xlviii.\n\nOf the seventh battle, and how Sir Launcelot, being disguised like a\n maid, smote down Sir Dinadan. Chap. xlix.\n\nHow by treason Sir Tristram was brought to a tournament for to have\n been slain, and how he was put in prison. Chap. l.\n\nHow king Mark let do counterfeit letters from the Pope, and how Sir\n Percivale delivered Sir Tristram out of prison. Chap. li.\n\nHow Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud came into England, and how Sir\n Launcelot brought them to Joyous Gard. Chap. lii.\n\nHow by the counsel of La Beale Isoud Sir Tristram rode armed, and how\n he met with Sir Palamides. Chap. liii.\n\nOf Sir Palamides, and how he met with Sir Bleoberis and with Sir Ector,\n and of Sir Percivale. Chap. liv.\n\nHow Sir Tristram met with Sir Dinadan, and of their devices, and what\n he said to Sir Gawaine\u2019s brethren. Chap. lv.\n\nHow Sir Tristram smote down Sir Agravaine and Sir Gaheris, and how Sir\n Dinadan was sent for by La Beale Isoud. Chap. lvi.\n\nHow Sir Dinadan met with Sir Tristram, and with justing with Sir\n Palamides Sir Dinadan knew him. Chap. lvii.\n\nHow they approached the castle Lonazep, and of other devices of the\n death of Sir Lamorak. Chap. lviii.\n\nHow they came to Humber bank, and how they found a ship there, wherein\n lay the body of king Hermance. Chap. lix.\n\nHow Sir Tristram with his fellowship came and were with an host which\n after fought with Sir Tristram; and other matters. Chap. lx.\n\nHow Palamides went for to fight with two brethren for the death of king\n Hermance. Chap. lxi.\n\nThe copy of the letter written for to revenge the king\u2019s death, and how\n Sir Palamides fought for to have the battle. Chap. lxii.\n\nOf the preparation of Sir Palamides and the two brethren that should\n fight with him. Chap. lxiii.\n\nOf the battle between Sir Palamides and the two brethren, and how the\n two brethren were slain. Chap. lxiv.\n\nHow Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides met Breuse Saunce Pite, and how Sir\n Tristram and La Beale Isoud went unto Lonazep. Chap. lxv.\n\nHow Sir Palamides justed with Sir Galihodin and after with Sir Gawaine,\n and smote them down. Chap. lxvi.\n\nHow Sir Tristram and his fellowship came unto the tournament of\n Lonazep; and of divers justs and matters. Chap. lxvii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram and his fellowship justed, and of the noble feats that\n they did in that tourneying. Chap. lxviii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram was unhorsed and smitten down by Sir Launcelot, and\n after that Sir Tristram smote down king Arthur. Chap. lxix.\n\nHow Sir Tristram changed his harness and it was all red, and how he\n demeaned him, and how Sir Palamides slew Launcelot\u2019s horse. Chap. lxx.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot said to Sir Palamides, and how the prize of that day\n was given unto Sir Palamides. Chap. lxxi.\n\nHow Sir Dinadan provoked Sir Tristram to do well. Chap. lxxii.\n\nHow king Arthur and Sir Launcelot came to see La Beale Isoud, and how\n Palamides smote down king Arthur. Chap. lxxiii.\n\nHow the second day Palamides forsook Sir Tristram, and went to the\n contrary part against him. Chap. lxxiv.\n\nHow Sir Tristram departed out of the field, and awaked Sir Dinadan, and\n changed his array into black. Chap. lxxv.\n\nHow Sir Palamides changed his shield and his armour for to hurt Sir\n Tristram, and how Sir Launcelot did to Sir Tristram. Chap. lxxvi.\n\nHow Sir Tristram departed with La Beale Isoud, and how Sir Palamides\n followed and excused him. Chap. lxxvii.\n\nHow king Arthur and Sir Launcelot came into their pavilions as they sat\n at supper, and of Palamides. Chap. lxxviii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides did the next day, and how king\n Arthur was unhorsed. Chap. lxxix.\n\nHow Sir Tristram turned to king Arthur\u2019s side, and how Sir Palamides\n would not. Chap. lxxx.\n\nHow Sir Bleoberis and Sir Ector reported to queen Guenever of the\n beauty of La Beale Isoud. Chap. lxxxi.\n\nHow Palamides complained by a well, and how Epinogris came and found\n him, and of their both sorrows. Chap. lxxxii.\n\nHow Sir Palamides brought to Sir Epinogris his lady, and how Sir\n Palamides and Sir Safire were assailed. Chap. lxxxiii.\n\nHow Sir Palamides and Sir Safire conducted Sir Epinogris to his castle,\n and of other adventures. Chap. lxxxiv.\n\nHow Sir Tristram made him ready to rescue Sir Palamides, but Sir\n Launcelot rescued him or he came. Chap. lxxxv.\n\nHow Sir Tristram and Sir Launcelot, with Palamides, came to Joyous\n Gard, and of Palamides and Sir Tristram. Chap. lxxxvi.\n\nHow there was a day set between Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides for to\n fight, and how Sir Tristram was hurt. Chap. lxxxvii.\n\nHow Sir Palamides kept his day to have foughten but Sir Tristram might\n not come, and other things. Chap. lxxxviii.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Eleventh Book.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot rode on his adventure, and how he helped a dolorous\n lady from her pain, and how that he fought with a dragon. Chap. i.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot came to Pelles, and of the Sangreal, and how he begat\n Galahad on Elaine, king Pelles\u2019 daughter. Chap. ii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot was displeased when he knew that he had been\n deceived, and how Galahad was born. Chap. iii.\n\nHow Sir Bors came to dame Elaine and saw Galahad, and how he was fed\n with the Sangreal. Chap. iv.\n\nHow Sir Bors made Sir Pedivere to yield him, and of marvellous\n adventures that he had, and how he achieved them. Chap. v.\n\nHow Sir Bors departed; and how Sir Launcelot was rebuked of the queen\n Guenever, and of his excuse. Chap. vi.\n\nHow dame Elaine, Galahad\u2019s mother, came in great estate to Camelot, and\n how Sir Launcelot behaved him there. Chap. vii.\n\nHow dame Brisen by enchantment brought Sir Launcelot to Elaine, and how\n queen Guenever rebuked him. Chap. viii.\n\nHow dame Elaine was commanded by queen Guenever to avoid the court, and\n how Sir Launcelot became mad. Chap. ix.\n\nWhat sorrow queen Guenever made for Sir Launcelot, and how he was\n sought by knights of his kin. Chap. x.\n\nHow a servant of Sir Aglovale\u2019s was slain, and what vengeance Sir\n Aglovale and Sir Percivale did therefore. Chap. xi.\n\nHow Sir Percivale departed secretly from his brother, and how he loosed\n a knight bound with a chain; and of other things. Chap. xii.\n\nHow Sir Percivale met with Sir Ector, and how they fought long, and\n each had almost slain other. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow by miracle they were both made whole by the coming of the holy\n vessel of Sangreal. Chap. xiv.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Twelfth Book.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot in his madness took a sword and fought with a knight,\n and after lept into a bed. Chap. i.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot was carried in an horse-litter, and how Sir Launcelot\n rescued Sir Bliaunt his host. Chap. ii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot fought against a boar and slew him, and how he was\n hurt and brought to an hermitage. Chap. iii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot was known by dame Elaine, and was borne into a\n chamber, and after healed by the Sangreal. Chap. iv.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot, after that he was whole and had his mind, he was\n ashamed, and how that Elaine desired a castle for him. Chap. v.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot came into the Joyous Isle, and there he named himself\n le Chevalier Mal Fet. Chap. vi.\n\nOf a great tourneying in the Joyous Isle, and how Sir Percivale and Sir\n Ector came thither and Sir Percivale fought with him. Chap. vii.\n\nHow each of them knew other, and of their courtesy; and how his brother\n Ector came unto him, and of their joy. Chap. viii.\n\nHow Sir Bors and Sir Lionel came to king Brandegore, and how Sir Bors\n took his son Heline le Blank, and of Sir Launcelot. Chap. ix.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot, with Sir Percivale and Sir Ector, came to the court,\n and of the great joy of him. Chap. x.\n\nHow La Beale Isoud counselled Sir Tristram to go unto the court to the\n great feast of Pentecost. Chap. xi.\n\nHow Sir Tristram departed unarmed and met with Sir Palamides, and how\n they smote each other, and how Palamides forbare him. Chap. xii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram gat him harness of a knight which was hurt, and how he\n overthrew Sir Palamides. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides fought long together, and after\n accorded; and how Sir Tristram made him to be christened. Chap. xiv.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Thirteenth Book.\n\nHow at the Vigil of the feast of Pentecost entered into the hall before\n king Arthur a damsel, and desired Sir Launcelot for to come and dub a\n knight, and how he went with her. Chap. i.\n\nHow the letters were found written in the Siege Perilous, and of the\n marvellous adventure of the sword in a stone. Chap. ii.\n\nHow Sir Gawaine assayed to draw out the sword, and how an old man\n brought in Galahad. Chap. iii.\n\nHow the old man brought Galahad to the Siege Perilous, and set him\n therein, and how all the knights marvelled. Chap. iv.\n\nHow king Arthur shewed the stone hoving on the water to Galahad, and\n how he drew out the sword. Chap. v.\n\nHow king Arthur had all the knights together for to just in the meadow\n beside Winchester or they departed. Chap. vi.\n\nHow the queen desired to see Galahad; and after all the knights were\n replenished with the holy Sangreal, and how all they avowed the\n enquest of the same. Chap. vii.\n\nHow great sorrow was made of the king and ladies for the departing of\n the knights, and how they departed. Chap. viii.\n\nHow Galahad gat him a shield, and how they sped that presumed to take\n down the said shield. Chap. ix.\n\nHow Galahad departed with the shield, and how king Evelake had received\n this shield of Joseph of Aramathye. Chap. x.\n\nHow Joseph made a cross on the white shield with his blood, and how\n Galahad was by a monk brought to a tomb. Chap. xi.\n\nOf the marvel that Sir Galahad saw and heard in the tomb, and how he\n made Melias knight. Chap. xii.\n\nOf the adventure that Melias had, and how Galahad revenged him, and how\n Melias was carried into an abbey. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow Galahad departed, and how he was commanded to go to the castle of\n maidens to destroy the wicked custom. Chap. xiv.\n\nHow Sir Galahad fought with the knights of the castle, and destroyed\n the wicked custom. Chap. xv.\n\nHow Sir Gawaine came to the abbey for to follow Galahad, and how he was\n shriven to a hermit. Chap. xvi.\n\nHow Sir Galahad met with Sir Launcelot and with Sir Percivale, and\n smote them down, and departed from them. Chap. xvii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot, half sleeping and half waking, saw a sick man borne\n in a litter, and how he was healed with the Sangreal. Chap. xviii.\n\nHow a voice spake to Sir Launcelot, and how he found his horse and his\n helm borne away, and after went afoot. Chap. xix.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot was shriven, and what sorrow he made; and of good\n ensamples which were shewed to him. Chap. xx.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Fourteenth Book.\n\nHow Sir Percivale came to a recluse and asked counsel, and how she told\n him that she was his aunt. Chap. i.\n\nHow Merlin likened the Round Table to the world, and how the knights\n that should achieve the Sangreal should be known. Chap. ii.\n\nHow Sir Percivale came into a monastery where he found king Evelake,\n which was an old man. Chap. iii.\n\nHow Sir Percivale saw many men of arms bearing a dead knight, and how\n he fought against them. Chap. iv.\n\nHow a yeoman desired him to get again an horse, and how Sir Percivale\u2019s\n hackney was slain, and how he gat an horse. Chap. v.\n\nOf the great danger that Sir Percivale was in by his horse, and how he\n saw a serpent and a lion fight. Chap. vi.\n\nOf the vision that Sir Percivale saw, and how his vision was expounded,\n and of his lion. Chap. vii.\n\nHow Sir Percivale saw a ship coming to him-ward, and how the lady of\n the ship told him of her disheritance. Chap. viii.\n\nHow Sir Percivale promised her help, and how he required her of love,\n and how he was saved from the fiend. Chap. ix.\n\nHow Sir Percivale for penance rove himself through the thigh; and how\n she was known for the devil. Chap. x.\n\n\n Here followeth the Fifteenth Book, which is of Sir Launcelot.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot came into a chapel, where he found dead, in a white\n shirt, a man of religion of an hundred winter old. Chap. i.\n\nOf a dead man, how men would have hewen him, and it would not be; and\n how Sir Launcelot took the hair of the dead man. Chap. ii.\n\nOf a vision that Sir Launcelot had, and how he told it to an hermit,\n and desired counsel of him. Chap. iii.\n\nHow the hermit expounded to Sir Launcelot his vision, and told him that\n Sir Galahad was his son. Chap. iv.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot justed with many knights, and he was taken. Chap. v.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot told his vision unto a woman, and how she expounded\n it to him. Chap. vi.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Sixteenth Book.\n\nHow Sir Gawaine was nigh weary of the quest of Sangreal, and of his\n marvellous dream. Chap. i.\n\nOf the vision of Sir Ector, and how he justed with Sir Uwaine les\n Avoutres, his sworn brother. Chap. ii.\n\nHow Sir Gawaine and Sir Ector came to an hermitage to be confessed, and\n how they told to the hermit their visions. Chap. iii.\n\nHow the hermit expounded their vision. Chap. iv.\n\nOf the good counsel that the hermit gave to them. Chap. v.\n\nHow Sir Bors met with an hermit, and how he was confessed to him, and\n of his penance enjoined to him. Chap. vi.\n\nHow Sir Bors was lodged with a lady, and how he took on him for to\n fight against a champion for her land. Chap. vii.\n\nOf a vision which Sir Bors had that night, and how he fought and\n overcame his adversary. Chap. viii.\n\nHow the lady was restored to her lands by the battle of Sir Bors, and\n of his departing, and how he met Sir Lionel taken and beaten with\n thorns, and also of a maid which should have been dishonoured. Chap.\n ix.\n\nHow Sir Bors left to rescue his brother, and rescued the damsel; and\n how it was told him that Lionel was dead. Chap. x.\n\nHow Sir Bors told his dream to a priest which he had dreamed, and of\n the counsel that the priest gave to him. Chap. xi.\n\nHow the devil in a woman\u2019s likeness would have tempted Sir Bors, and\n how by God\u2019s grace he escaped. Chap. xii.\n\nOf the holy communication of an abbot to Sir Bors, and how the abbot\n counselled him. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow Sir Bors met with his brother Sir Lionel, and how Sir Lionel would\n have slain Sir Bors. Chap. xiv.\n\nHow Sir Colgrevance fought against Sir Lionel for to save Sir Bors, and\n how the hermit was slain. Chap. xv.\n\nHow Sir Lionel slew Sir Colgrevance, and how after he would have slain\n Sir Bors. Chap. xvi.\n\nHow there came a voice which charged Sir Bors to touch not him, and of\n a cloud that came between them. Chap. xvii.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Seventeenth Book.\n\nHow Sir Galahad fought at a tournament, and how he was known of Sir\n Gawaine and Sir Ector de Maris. Chap. i.\n\nHow Sir Galahad rode with a damsel, and came to the ship whereas Sir\n Bors and Sir Percivale were in. Chap. ii.\n\nHow Sir Galahad entered into the ship, and of a fair bed therein, with\n other marvellous things, and of a sword. Chap. iii.\n\nOf the marvels of the sword and of the scabbard. Chap. iv.\n\nHow king Pelles was smitten through both thighs because he drew the\n sword, and other marvellous histories. Chap. v.\n\nHow Solomon took David\u2019s sword by the counsel of his wife, and of other\n matters marvellous. Chap. vi.\n\nA wonderful tale of king Solomon and his wife. Chap. vii.\n\nHow Galahad and his fellows came to a castle, and how they were fought\n withal, and how they slew their adversaries, and other matters. Chap.\n viii.\n\nHow the three knights, with Percivale\u2019s sister, came into the waste\n forest, and of an hart and four lions and other things. Chap. ix.\n\nHow they were desired of a strange custom, the which they would not\n obey; and how they fought and slew many knights. Chap. x.\n\nHow Sir Percivale\u2019s sister bled a dish full of blood for to heal a\n lady; wherefore she died; and how that the body was put in a ship.\n Chap. xi.\n\nHow Galahad and Percivale found in a castle many tombs of maidens that\n had bled to death. Chap. xii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot entered into the ship where Sir Percivale\u2019s sister\n lay dead; and how he met with Sir Galahad his son. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow a knight brought unto Sir Galahad an horse, and had him come from\n his father Sir Launcelot. Chap. xiv.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot was tofore the door of the chamber wherein the holy\n Sangreal was. Chap. xv.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot had lain fourteen days and as many night as a dead\n man, and other divers matters. Chap. xvi.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot returned towards Logris, and of other adventures\n which he saw in the way. Chap. xvii.\n\nHow Galahad came to king Mordrains, and of other matters and\n adventures. Chap. xviii.\n\nHow Sir Percivale and Sir Bors met with Sir Galahad, and how they came\n to the castle of Carbonek, and other matters. Chap. xix.\n\nHow Galahad and his fellows were fed of the holy Sangreal, and how our\n Lord appeared to them, and other things. Chap. xx.\n\nHow Galahad anointed with the blood of the spear the maimed king, and\n of other adventures. Chap. xxi.\n\nHow they were fed with the Sangreal while they were in prison, and how\n Galahad was made king. Chap. xxii.\n\nOf the sorrow that Percivale and Bors made when Galahad was dead; and\n of Percivale how he died, and other matters. Chap. xxiii.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Eighteenth Book.\n\nOf the joy of king Arthur and the queen had of the achievement of the\n Sangreal; and how Launcelot fell to his old love again. Chap. i.\n\nHow the queen commanded Sir Launcelot to avoid the court, and of the\n sorrow that Launcelot made. Chap. ii.\n\nHow at a dinner that the queen made there was a knight poisoned, which\n Sir Mador laid on the queen. Chap. iii.\n\nHow Sir Mador appeached the queen of treason, and there was no knight\n would fight for her at the first time. Chap. iv.\n\nHow the queen required Sir Bors to fight for her, and how he granted\n upon condition; and how he warned Sir Launcelot thereof. Chap. v.\n\nHow at the day Sir Bors made him ready for to fight for the queen; and\n when he should fight how another discharged him. Chap. vi.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot fought against Sir Mador for the queen, and how he\n overcame Sir Mador and discharged the queen. Chap. vii.\n\nHow the truth was known by the maiden of the lake, and of divers other\n matters. Chap. viii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot rode to Astolat, and received a sleeve to bear upon\n his helm at the request of a maid. Chap. ix.\n\nHow the tourney began at Winchester, and what knights were at the\n justs, and other things. Chap. x.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine entered in the field against them of\n king Arthur\u2019s court, and how Launcelot was hurt. Chap. xi.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine departed out of the field, and in\n what jeopardy Launcelot was. Chap. xii.\n\nHow Launcelot was brought to an hermit for to be healed of his wound,\n and of other matters. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow Sir Gawaine was lodged with the lord of Astolat, and there had\n knowledge that it was Sir Launcelot that bare the red sleeve. Chap.\n xiv.\n\nOf the sorrow that Sir Bors had for the hurt of Launcelot; and of the\n anger that the queen had because Launcelot bore the sleeve. Chap. xv.\n\nHow Sir Bors sought Launcelot and found him in the hermitage, and of\n the lamentation between them. Chap. xvi.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot armed him to assay if he might bear arms, and how his\n wound burst out again. Chap. xvii.\n\nHow Sir Bors returned and told tidings of Sir Launcelot, and of the\n tourney, and to whom the prize was given. Chap. xviii.\n\nOf the great lamentation of the fair maid of Astolat when Launcelot\n should depart, and how she died for his love. Chap. xix.\n\nHow the corpse of the maid of Astolat arrived tofore king Arthur, and\n of the burying, and how Sir Launcelot offered the mass-penny. Chap.\n xx.\n\nOf great justs done all a Christmas, and of a great justs and tourney\n ordained by king Arthur, and of Sir Launcelot. Chap. xxi.\n\nHow Launcelot after that he was hurt of a gentlewoman came to an\n hermit, and of other matters. Chap. xxii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot behaved him at the justs, and other men also. Chap.\n xxiii.\n\nHow king Arthur marvelled much of the justing in the field, and how he\n rode and found Sir Launcelot. Chap. xxiv.\n\nHow true love is likened to summer. Chap. xxv.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Nineteenth Book.\n\nHow queen Guenever rode on Maying with certain knights of the Round\n Table and clad all in green. Chap. i.\n\nHow Sir Meliagraunce took the queen and all her knights, which were\n sore hurt in fighting. Chap. ii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot had word how the queen was taken, and how Sir\n Meliagraunce laid a bushment for Launcelot. Chap. iii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot\u2019s horse was slain, and how Sir Launcelot rode in a\n cart for to rescue the queen. Chap. iv.\n\nHow Sir Meliagraunce required forgiveness of the queen, and how she\n appeased Sir Launcelot, and other matters. Chap. v.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot came in the night to the queen, and how Sir\n Meliagraunce appeached the queen of treason. Chap. vi.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot answered for the queen, and waged battle against Sir\n Meliagraunce. And how Sir Launcelot was taken in a trap. Chap. vii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot was delivered out of prison by a lady, and took a\n white courser, and came for to keep his day. Chap. viii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot came the same time that Sir Meliagraunce abode him in\n the field, and dressed him to battle. Chap. ix.\n\nHow Sir Urre came into Arthur\u2019s court for to be healed of his wounds,\n and how king Arthur would begin to handle him. Chap. x.\n\nHow king Arthur handled Sir Urre, and after him many other knights of\n the Round Table. Chap. xi.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot was commanded by Arthur to handle his wounds, and\n anon he was all whole, and how they thanked God. Chap. xii.\n\nHow there was a party made of an hundred knights against an hundred\n knights, and of other matters. Chap. xiii.\n\n\nHere followeth the Book of the Piteous History which is of the Morte or\n Death of king Arthur, and the Chapters of the Twentieth Book.\n\nHow Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred were busy upon Sir Gawaine for to\n disclose the love between Sir Launcelot and queen Guenever. Chap. i.\n\nHow Sir Agravaine disclosed their love to king Arthur, and how king\n Arthur gave them licence to take him. Chap. ii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot was espied in the queen\u2019s chamber, and how Sir\n Agravaine and Sir Mordred came with twelve knights to slay him. Chap.\n iii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot slew Sir Colgrevance, and armed him in his harness,\n and after slew Sir Agravaine and twelve of his fellows. Chap. iv.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot came to Sir Bors and told him how he had sped, and in\n what adventure he had been, and how he escaped. Chap. v.\n\nOf the counsel and advice which was taken by Sir Launcelot and by his\n friends for to save the queen. Chap. vi.\n\nHow Sir Mordred rode hastily to the king to tell him of the affray and\n death of Sir Agravaine and the other knights. Chap. vii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot and his kinsmen rescued the queen from the fire, and\n how he slew many knights. Chap. viii.\n\nOf the sorrow and lamentation of king Arthur for the death of his\n nephews and other good knights, and also for the queen his wife.\n Chap. ix.\n\nHow king Arthur at the request of Sir Gawaine concluded to make war\n against Sir Launcelot, and laid siege to his castle called Joyous\n Gard. Chap. x.\n\nOf the communication between king Arthur and Sir Launcelot, and how\n king Arthur reproved him. Chap. xi.\n\nHow the cousins and kinsmen of Sir Launcelot excited him to go out to\n battle, and how they made them ready. Chap. xii.\n\nHow Sir Gawaine justed and smote down Sir Lionel, and how Sir Launcelot\n horsed king Arthur. Chap. xiii.\n\nHow the pope sent down his bulls to make peace, and how Sir Launcelot\n brought the queen to king Arthur. Chap. xiv.\n\nOf the deliverance of the queen to the king by Sir Launcelot, and what\n language Sir Gawaine had to Sir Launcelot. Chap. xv.\n\nOf the communication between Sir Gawaine and Sir Launcelot, with much\n other language. Chap. xvi.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot departed from the king and from Joyous Gard over\n seaward, and what knights went with him. Chap. xvii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot passed over the sea, and how he made great lords of\n the knights that went with him. Chap. xviii.\n\nHow king Arthur and Sir Gawaine made a great host ready to go over sea\n to make war on Sir Launcelot. Chap. xix.\n\nWhat message Sir Gawaine sent to Sir Launcelot, and king Arthur laid\n siege to Benwick, and other matters. Chap. xx.\n\nHow Sir Gawaine and Sir Launcelot did battle together, and how Sir\n Gawaine was overthrown and hurt. Chap. xxi.\n\nOf the sorrow that king Arthur made for the war, and of another battle\n where also Sir Gawaine had the worse. Chap. xxii.\n\n\n Here follow the Chapters of the Twenty-first Book.\n\nHow Sir Mordred presumed and took on him to be king of England, and\n would have married the queen, his uncle\u2019s wife. Chap. i.\n\nHow after that king Arthur had tidings he returned and came to Dover,\n where Sir Mordred met him to let his landing, and of the death of Sir\n Gawaine. Chap. ii.\n\nHow after Sir Gawaine\u2019s ghost appeared to king Arthur, and warned him\n that he should not fight that day. Chap. iii.\n\nHow by misadventure of an adder the battle began, where Mordred was\n slain, and Arthur hurt to the death. Chap. iv.\n\nHow king Arthur commanded to cast his sword Excalibur into the water,\n and how he was delivered to ladies in a barge. Chap. v.\n\nHow Sir Bedivere found him on the morrow dead in an hermitage, and how\n he abode there with the hermit. Chap. vi.\n\nOf the opinion of some men of the death of king Arthur; and how queen\n Guenever made her a nun in Almesbury. Chap. vii.\n\nHow when Sir Launcelot heard of the death of king Arthur, and of Sir\n Gawaine, and other matters, he came into England. Chap. viii.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot departed to seek the queen Guenever, and how he found\n at Almesbury. Chap. ix.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot came to the hermitage where the archbishop of\n Canterbury was, and how he took the habit on him. Chap. x.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot went with his seven fellows to Almesbury, and found\n there queen Guenever dead, whom they brought to Glastonbury. Chap. xi.\n\nHow Sir Launcelot began to sicken, and after died, whose body was borne\n to Joyous Gard for to be buried. Chap. xii.\n\nHow Sir Ector found Sir Launcelot his brother dead. And how Constantine\n reigned next after Arthur, and of the end of this Book. Chap. xiii.\n\n Explicit the Table.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n THE BOOK OF\n\n KING ARTHUR\n\n AND OF HIS NOBLE\n\n KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE.\n\n\n\n\n The First Book of King Arthur.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_First how Uther Pendragon sent for the duke of Cornwall and Igraine\n his wife, and of their departing suddenly again._\n\nIt befell in the days of Uther Pendragon, when he was king of all\nEngland, and so reigned, that there was a mighty duke in Cornwall that\nheld war against him long time. And the duke was named the duke of\nTintagil. And so by means king Uther sent for this duke, charging him\nto bring his wife with him, for she was called a fair lady, and a\npassing wise, and her name was called Igraine. So when the duke and his\nwife were come unto the king, by the means of great lords they were\naccorded both: the king liked and loved this lady well, and he made\nthem great cheer out of measure, and desired to have had her love. But\nshe was a passing good woman, and would not assent unto the king. And\nthen she told the duke her husband, and said, I suppose that we were\nsent for that I should be dishonoured, wherefore, husband, I counsel\nyou that we depart from hence suddenly, that we may ride all night to\nour own castle. And in like wise as she said so they departed, that\nneither the king nor none of his council were ware of their departing.\nAll so soon as king Uther knew of their departing so suddenly, he was\nwonderly wroth. Then he called to him his privy council, and told them\nof the sudden departing of the duke and his wife. Then they advised the\nking to send for the duke and his wife by a great charge: and if he\nwill not come at your summons, then may ye do your best; then have ye\ncause to make mighty war upon him. So that was done, and the messengers\nhad their answers, and that was this, shortly, that neither he nor his\nwife would not come at him. Then was the king wonderly wroth. And then\nthe king sent him plain word again, and bade him be ready and stuff him\nand garnish him, for within forty days he would fetch him out of the\nbiggest castle that he hath. When the duke had this warning, anon he\nwent and furnished and garnished two strong castles of his, of the\nwhich the one hight Tintagil and the other castle hight Terrabil. So\nhis wife, dame Igraine, he put in the castle of Tintagil, and himself\nhe put in the castle of Terrabil, the which had many issues and\nposterns out. Then in all haste came Uther with a great host, and laid\na siege about the castle of Terrabil. And there he pight many\npavilions, and there was great war made on both parties, and much\npeople slain. Then for pure anger and for great love of fair Igraine\nthe king Uther fell sick. So came to the king Uther Sir Ulfius, a noble\nknight, and asked the king why he was sick. I shall tell thee, said the\nking; I am sick for anger and for love of fair Igraine, that I may not\nbe whole. Well, my lord, said Sir Ulfius, I shall seek Merlin, and he\nshall do you remedy that your heart shall be pleased. So Ulfius\ndeparted, and by adventure he met Merlin in a beggar\u2019s array, and there\nMerlin asked Ulfius whom he sought? and he said he had little ado to\ntell him. Well, said Merlin, I know whom thou seekest, for thou seekest\nMerlin; therefore seek no further, for I am he, and if king Uther will\nwell reward me, and be sworn unto me to fulfil my desire, that shall be\nhis honour and profit more than mine, for I shall cause him to have all\nhis desire. All this will I undertake, said Ulfius, that there shall be\nnothing reasonable but thou shalt have thy desire. Well, said Merlin,\nhe shall have his intent and desire. And therefore, said Merlin, ride\non your way, for I will not be long behind.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How Uther Pendragon made war on the duke of Cornwall, and how by the\n means of Merlin he made the duchess his queen._\n\nThen Ulfius was glad, and rode on more than a pace till that he came to\nUther Pendragon, and told him he had met with Merlin. Where is he? said\nthe king. Sir, said Ulfius, he will not dwell long. Therewithal Ulfius\nwas ware where Merlin stood at the porch of the pavilion\u2019s door. And\nthen Merlin was bound to come to the king. When king Uther saw him he\nsaid he was welcome. Sir, said Merlin, I know all your heart every\ndeal; so ye will be sworn unto me, as ye be a true king anointed, to\nfulfil my desire, ye shall have your desire. Then the king was sworn\nupon the four Evangelists. Sir, said Merlin, this is my desire: after\nye shall win Igraine ye shall have a child by her, and when that is\nborn that it shall be delivered to me for to nourish there as I will\nhave it; for it shall be your worship and the child\u2019s avail, as mickle\nas the child is worth. I will well, said the king, as thou wilt have\nit. Now make you ready, said Merlin: this night shall you see Igraine\nin the castle of Tintagil, and ye shall be like the duke her husband,\nUlfius shall be like Sir Brastias, a knight of the duke\u2019s, and I will\nbe like a knight that hight Sir Jordanus, a knight of the duke\u2019s. But\nwait ye make not many questions with her nor with her men, but say you\nare diseased, and so hie you to bed, and rise not on the morn till I\ncome to you, for the castle of Tintagil is but ten mile hence. So this\nwas done as they had devised. But the duke of Tintagil espied how the\nking rode from the siege of Terrabil, and therefore that night he\nissued out of the castle at a postern, for to have distressed the\nking\u2019s host. And so, through his own issue, the duke himself was slain\nor ever the king came at the castle of Tintagil. So after the death of\nthe duke king Uther came to the castle, more than three hours after his\ndeath; and there he found Igraine. And or day came Merlin came to the\nking and bade him make him ready, and so he kissed the lady Igraine and\ndeparted in all haste. But when the lady heard tell of the duke her\nhusband, and by all record he was dead or ever king Uther came to her,\nthen she marvelled who that might be that came to her in likeness of\nher lord; so she mourned privily and held her peace. Then all the\nbarons by one assent prayed the king of accord between the lady Igraine\nand him. The king gave them leave, for fain would he have been accorded\nwith her. So the king put all the trust in Ulfius to entreat between\nthem; so, by the entreat, at the last the king and she met together.\nNow will we do well, said Ulfius: our king is a lusty knight and\nwifeless, and my lady Igraine is a passing fair lady; it were great joy\nunto us all and it might please the king to make her his queen. Unto\nthat they were all well accorded, and moved it to the king: and anon,\nlike a lusty knight, he assented thereto with good will, and so in all\nhaste they were married in a morning with great mirth and joy.\n\nAnd king Lot of Lothian and of Orkney then wedded Margawse that was\nGawaine\u2019s mother: and king Nentres of the land of Garlot wedded Elaine.\nAll this was done at the request of king Uther. And the third sister,\nMorgan le Fay, was put to school in a nunnery: and there she learned so\nmuch that she was a great clerk of nigromancy. And after she was wedded\nto king Uriens of the land of Gore, that was Sir Ewaine\u2019s le\nBlanchemains father.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_Of the birth of king Arthur, and of his nouriture; and of the death of\n king Uther Pendragon; and how Arthur was chosen king; and of wonders\n and marvels of a sword that was taken out of a stone by the said\n Arthur._\n\nThen the time came that the queen Igraine should bear a child. So it\nfell within half a year, as king Uther was with his queen, he asked\nher, by the faith she owed unto him, whose was the child that should be\nborn: then was she sore abashed to give answer. Dismay you not, said\nthe king, but tell me the truth, and I shall love you the better, by\nthe faith of my body. Sir, said she, I shall tell you the truth. The\nsame night that my lord was dead, the hour of his death, as his knights\nrecord, there came into my castle of Tintagil a man like my lord in\nspeech and countenance, and two knights with him in likeness of his two\nknights Brastias and Jordans, and so I welcomed him as I ought to\nwelcome my lord: and thus, as I shall answer unto God, this child was\nbegotten. That is truth, said the king, as you say, for it was I myself\nthat came in the likeness, and therefore dismay you not, for I am\nfather to the child. And there he told her all the cause how it was by\nMerlin\u2019s counsel. Then the Queen made great joy when she knew who was\nthe father of her child. Soon came Merlin unto the king and said, Sir,\nye must purvey you for the nourishing of your child. As thou wilt, said\nthe king, be it. Well, said Merlin, I know a lord of yours in this\nland, that is a passing true man and a faithful, and he shall have the\nnourishing of your child, and his name is Sir Ector, and he is a lord\nof fair livelihood in many parts in England and Wales. And this lord,\nSir Ector, let him be sent for, for to come and speak with you, and\ndesire him yourself, as he loveth you, that he will put his own child\nto nourishing to another woman, and that his wife nourish yours. And\nwhen the child is born let it be delivered unto me at yonder privy\npostern unchristened. So like as Merlin devised it was done. And when\nSir Ector was come he made affiance to the king for to nourish the\nchild like as the king desired; and there the king granted Sir Ector\ngreat rewards. Then when the lady was delivered, the king commanded two\nknights and two ladies to take the child bound in a cloth of gold, and\nthat ye deliver him to what poor man ye meet at the postern gate of the\ncastle. So the child was delivered unto Merlin, and so he bare it forth\nunto Sir Ector, and made an holy man to christen him, and named him\nArthur: and so Sir Ector\u2019s wife nourished him with her own breast.\n\nThen within two years king Uther fell sick of a great malady. And in\nthe meanwhile his enemies usurped upon him, and did a great battle upon\nhis men, and slew many of his people. Sir, said Merlin, ye may not lie\nso as ye do, for ye must to the field, though ye ride on an\nhorse-litter; for ye shall never have the better of your enemies but if\nyour person be there, and then shall ye have the victory. So it was\ndone as Merlin had devised, and they carried the king forth in a\nhorse-litter with a great host towards his enemies. And at St. Albans\nthere met with the king a great host of the North. And that day Sir\nUlfius and Sir Brastias did great deeds of arms, and king Uther\u2019s men\novercame the Northern battle, and slew many people, and put the remnant\nto flight. And then the king returned unto London, and made great joy\nof his victory. And then he fell passing sore sick, so that three days\nand three nights he was speechless; wherefore all the barons made great\nsorrow, and asked Merlin what counsel were best. There is none other\nremedy, said Merlin, but God will have his will. But look ye all barons\nbe before king Uther to-morn, and God and I shall make him to speak. So\non the morn all the barons with Merlin came tofore the king: then\nMerlin said aloud unto king Uther, Sir, shall your son Arthur be king\nafter your days, of this realm, with all the appurtenance? Then Uther\nPendragon turned him and said in hearing of them all, I give him God\u2019s\nblessing and mine, and bid him pray for my soul, and righteously and\nworshipfully that he claim the crown upon forfeiture of my blessing.\nAnd therewith he yielded up the ghost. And then was he interred as\nlonged to a king. Wherefore the queen, fair Igraine, made great sorrow\nand all the barons. Then stood the realm in great jeopardy long while,\nfor every lord that was mighty of men made him strong, and many wend to\nhave been king. Then Merlin went to the archbishop of Canterbury, and\ncounselled him for to send for all the lords of the realm, and all the\ngentlemen of arms, that they should to London come by Christmas upon\npain of cursing: and for this cause\u2014that Jesus, that was born on that\nnight, that he would of his great mercy shew some miracle, as he was\ncome to be king of mankind, for to shew some miracle who should be\nrightwise king of this realm. So the archbishop by the advice of Merlin\nsent for all the lords and gentlemen of arms, that they should come by\nChristmas even unto London. And many of them made them clean of their\nlife, that their prayer might be the more acceptable unto God. So in\nthe greatest church of London (whether it were Paul\u2019s or not, the\nFrench book maketh no mention) all the estates were long or day in the\nchurch for to pray. And when matins and the first mass was done, there\nwas seen in the churchyard against the high altar a great stone four\nsquare, like unto a marble stone, and in the midst thereof was like an\nanvil of steel a foot on high, and therein stack a fair sword naked by\nthe point, and letters there were written in gold about the sword that\nsaid thus: Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil is\nrightwise king born of all England. Then the people marvelled, and told\nit to the archbishop. I command, said the archbishop, that ye keep you\nwithin your church, and pray unto God still; that no man touch the\nsword till the high mass be all done. So when all masses were done all\nthe lords went to behold the stone and the sword. And when they saw the\nscripture, some assayed\u2014such as would have been king. But none might\nstir the sword nor move it. He is not here, said the archbishop, that\nshall achieve the sword, but doubt not God will make him known. But\nthis is my counsel, said the archbishop, that we let purvey ten\nknights, men of good fame, and they to keep this sword. So it was\nordained, and then there was made a cry, that every man should assay\nthat would, for to win the sword. And upon New Year\u2019s Day the barons\nlet make a justs and a tournament, that all knights that would just or\ntourney there might play: and all this was ordained for to keep the\nlords together and the commons, for the archbishop trusted that God\nwould make him known that should win the sword. So upon New Year\u2019s Day\nwhen the service was done the barons rode to the field, some to just,\nand some to tourney; and so it happed that Sir Ector, that had great\nlivelihood about London, rode unto the justs, and with him rode Sir Kay\nhis son and young Arthur that was his nourished brother, and Sir Kay\nwas made knight at Allhallowmas afore. So as they rode to the\njusts-ward Sir Kay had lost his sword, for he had left it at his\nfather\u2019s lodging, and so he prayed young Arthur to ride for his sword.\nI will well, said Arthur, and rode fast after the sword; and when he\ncame home the lady and all were out to see the justing. Then was Arthur\nwroth, and said to himself, I will ride to the churchyard and take the\nsword with me that sticketh in the stone, for my brother Sir Kay shall\nnot be without a sword this day. So when he came to the churchyard Sir\nArthur alighted, and tied his horse to the stile, and so he went to the\ntent, and found no knights there, for they were at the justing; and so\nhe handled the sword by the handles, and lightly and fiercely pulled it\nout of the stone, and took his horse and rode his way till he came to\nhis brother Sir Kay, and delivered him the sword. And as soon as Sir\nKay saw the sword he wist well it was the sword of the stone, and so he\nrode to his father Sir Ector, and said: Sir, lo here is the sword of\nthe stone; wherefore I must be king of this land. When Sir Ector beheld\nthe sword he returned again and came to the church, and there they\nalighted all three and went into the church, and anon he made Sir Kay\nto swear upon a book how he came to that sword. Sir, said Sir Kay, by\nmy brother Arthur, for he brought it to me. How gat ye this sword? said\nSir Ector to Arthur. Sir, I will tell you: when I came home for my\nbrother\u2019s sword, I found nobody at home to deliver me his sword, and so\nI thought my brother Sir Kay should not be swordless, and so I came\nhither eagerly and pulled it out of the stone without any pain. Found\nye any knights about this sword? said Sir Ector. Nay, said Arthur. Now,\nsaid Sir Ector to Arthur, I understand ye must be king of this land.\nWherefore I, said Arthur, and for what cause? Sir, said Ector, for God\nwill have it so: for there should never man have drawn out this sword\nbut he that shall be rightwise king of this land. Now let me see\nwhether ye can put the sword there as it was, and pull it out again.\nThat is no mastery, said Arthur: and so he put it into the stone.\nTherewith Sir Ector assayed to pull out the sword and failed.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How king Arthur pulled out the sword divers times._\n\nNow assay, said Sir Ector to Sir Kay. And anon he pulled at the sword\nwith all his might, but it would not be. Now shall ye assay, said Sir\nEctor to Arthur. I will well, said Arthur, and pulled it out easily.\nAnd therewithal Sir Ector kneeled down to the earth, and Sir Kay. Alas,\nsaid Arthur, mine own dear father and brother, why kneel ye to me. Nay,\nnay, my lord Arthur, it is not so: I was never your father nor of your\nblood, but I wote well ye are of an higher blood than I wend ye were.\nAnd then Sir Ector told him all, how he was betaken him for to nourish\nhim, and by whose commandment, and by Merlin\u2019s deliverance. Then Arthur\nmade great dole when he understood that Sir Ector was not his father.\nSir, said Ector unto Arthur, will ye be my good and gracious lord when\nye are king? Else were I to blame, said Arthur, for ye are the man in\nthe world that I am most beholding to, and my good lady and mother your\nwife, that as well as her own hath fostered me and kept. And if ever it\nbe God\u2019s will that I be king, as ye say, ye shall desire of me what I\nmay do, and I shall not fail you: God forbid I should fail you. Sir,\nsaid Sir Ector, I will ask no more of you but that you will make my\nson, your foster-brother Sir Kay, seneschal of all your lands. That\nshall be done, said Arthur, and more by the faith of my body, that\nnever man shall have that office but he while he and I live.\nTherewithal they went unto the archbishop, and told him how the sword\nwas achieved, and by whom. And on Twelfth Day all the barons came\nthither, and to assay to take the sword who that would assay. But there\nafore them all there might none take it out but Arthur, wherefore there\nwere many lords wroth, and said it was great shame unto them all and\nthe realm, to be over governed with a boy of no high blood born. And so\nthey fell out at that time that it was put off till Candlemas, and then\nall the barons should meet there again. But always the ten knights were\nordained to watch the sword day and night, and so they set a pavilion\nover the stone and the sword, and five always watched. So at Candlemas\nmany more great lords came thither for to have won the sword, but there\nmight none prevail. And right as Arthur did at Christmas he did at\nCandlemas, and pulled out the sword easily, whereof the barons were\nsore aggrieved, and put it off in delay till the high feast of Easter.\nAnd as Arthur sped afore, so did he at Easter: yet there were some of\nthe great lords had indignation that Arthur should be their king, and\nput it off in a delay till the feast of Pentecost. Then the archbishop\nof Canterbury by Merlin\u2019s providence let purvey then of the best\nknights that they might get, and such knights as king Uther Pendragon\nloved best and most trusted in his days, and such knights were put\nabout Arthur, as Sir Baudwin of Britain, Sir Kay, Sir Ulfius, Sir\nBrastias. All these, with many other, were always about Arthur, day and\nnight, till the feast of Pentecost.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How King Arthur was crowned, and how he made officers._\n\nAnd at the feast of Pentecost all manner of men assayed to pull at the\nsword that would assay, but none might prevail but Arthur; and he\npulled it out afore all the lords and commons that were there,\nwherefore all the commons cried at once, We will have Arthur unto our\nking; we will put him no more in delay, for we all see that it is God\u2019s\nwill that he shall be our king, and who that holdeth against it we will\nslay him. And therewithal they kneeled down all at once, both rich and\npoor, and cried Arthur mercy, because they had delayed him so long. And\nArthur forgave them, and took the sword between both his hands, and\noffered it upon the altar where the archbishop was, and so was he made\nknight of the best man that was there. And so anon was the coronation\nmade, and there was he sworn unto his lords and the commons for to be a\ntrue king, to stand with true justice from thenceforth the days of this\nlife. Also then he made all lords that held of the crown to come in,\nand to do service as they ought to do. And many complaints were made\nunto Sir Arthur of great wrongs that were done since the death of king\nUther, of many lands that were bereaved lords, knights, ladies, and\ngentlemen. Wherefore king Arthur made the lands to be given again unto\nthem that owned them. When this was done that the king had stablished\nall the countries about London, then he let make Sir Kay seneschal of\nEngland; and Sir Baudwin of Britain was made constable; and Sir Ulfius\nwas made chamberlain; and Sir Brastias was made warden to wait upon the\nnorth from Trent forwards, for it was that time for the most part the\nking\u2019s enemies. But within few years after, Arthur won all the north,\nScotland, and all that were under their obeisance. Also Wales, a part\nof it held against Arthur, but he overcame them all as he did the\nremnant through the noble prowess of himself and his knights of the\nRound Table.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How king Arthur held in Wales at a Pentecost a great feast, and what\n kings and lords came to his feast._\n\nThen the king removed into Wales, and let cry a great feast, that it\nshould be holden at Pentecost, after the incoronation of him at the\ncity of Carlion. Unto the feast came king Lot of Lothian and of Orkney\nwith five hundred knights with him. Also there came to the feast king\nUriens of Gore with four hundred knights with him. Also there came to\nthat feast king Nentres of Garloth with seven hundred knights with him.\nAlso there came to the feast the king of Scotland with six hundred\nknights with him, and he was but a young man. Also there came to the\nfeast a king that was called the king with the hundred knights, but he\nand his men was passing well beseen at all points. Also there came the\nking of Carados with five hundred knights. And king Arthur was glad of\ntheir coming, for he wend that all the kings and knights had come for\ngreat love, and for to have done him worship at his feast, wherefore\nthe king made great joy, and sent the kings and knights great presents.\nBut the kings would none receive, but rebuked the messengers\nshamefully, and said they had no joy to receive no gifts of a beardless\nboy that was come of low blood, and sent him word they would have none\nof his gifts, but that they were come to give him gifts with hard\nswords betwixt the neck and the shoulders: and therefore they came\nthither, so they told to the messengers plainly, for it was great shame\nto all them to see such a boy to have a rule of so noble a realm as\nthis land was. With this answer the messengers departed, and told to\nking Arthur this answer. Wherefore, by the advice of his barons, he\ntook him to a strong tower with five hundred good men with him: and all\nthe kings aforesaid in a manner laid a siege tofore him, but king\nArthur was well victualled. And within fifteen days there came Merlin\namong them into the city of Carlion. Then all the kings were passing\nglad of Merlin, and asked him, For what cause is that boy Arthur made\nyour king? Sirs, said Merlin, I shall tell you the cause. For he is\nking Uther Pendragon\u2019s son, born in wedlock of Igraine, the duke\u2019s wife\nof Tintagil. After the death of the duke thirteen days king Uther\nPendragon wedded fair Igraine. And who saith nay, he shall be king, and\novercome all his enemies; and, or he die, he shall be long king of all\nEngland, and have under his obeisance Wales, Ireland, and Scotland, and\nmore realms than I will now rehearse. Some of the kings had marvel of\nMerlin\u2019s words, and deemed well that it should be as he said: and some\nof them laughed him to scorn, as king Lot: and more other called him a\nwitch. But then were they accorded with Merlin that king Arthur should\ncome out and speak with the kings, and to come safe and go safe, such\nassurance was there made. So Merlin went unto king Arthur and told him\nhow he had done, and bade him fear not, but come out boldly and speak\nwith them, and spare them not, but answer them as their king and\nchieftain, for ye shall overcome them all whether they will or nill.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_Of the first war that king Arthur had, and how he won the field._\n\nThen king Arthur came out of his tower, and had under his gown a\njesseraunt of double mail, and there went with him the archbishop of\nCanterbury, and Sir Baudwin of Britain, and Sir Kay, and Sir Brastias:\nthese were the men of most worship that were with him. And when they\nwere met there was no meekness, but stout words on both sides: but\nalways king Arthur answered them, and said that he would make them to\nbow and he lived. Wherefore they departed with wrath, and king Arthur\nbade keep them well, and they bade the king keep him well. So the king\nreturned him to the tower again, and armed him and all his knights.\nWhat will ye do? said Merlin to the kings: ye were better for to stint,\nfor ye shall not here prevail though ye were ten so many. Be we well\nadvised to be afraid of a dream-reader? said king Lot. With that Merlin\nvanished away, and came to king Arthur, and bade him set on them\nfiercely; and in the meanwhile there were three hundred good men of the\nbest that were with the kings that went straight unto king Arthur, and\nthat comforted him greatly. Sir, said Merlin to Arthur, fight not with\nthe sword that ye had by miracle, till that ye see ye go unto the\nworse, then draw it out and do your best. So forthwithal king Arthur\nset upon them in their lodging. And Sir Baudwin, Sir Kay, and Sir\nBrastias slew on the right hand and on the left hand that it was\nmarvellous: and always king Arthur on horseback laid on with a sword,\nand did marvellous deeds of arms, that many of the kings had great joy\nof his deeds and hardiness. Then king Lot brake out on the back side,\nand the king with the hundred knights, and king Carados, and set on\nArthur fiercely behind him. With that Sir Arthur turned with his\nknights and smote behind and before, and ever Sir Arthur was in the\nforemost press till his horse was slain underneath him. And therewith\nking Lot smote down king Arthur. With that his four knights received\nhim, and set him on horseback. Then he drew his sword Excalibur, but it\nwas so bright in his enemies\u2019 eyes, that it gave light like thirty\ntorches. And therewith he put them on back, and slew much people. And\nthen the commons of Carlion arose with clubs and staves, and slew many\nknights; but all the kings held them together with their knights that\nwere left alive, and so fled and departed. And Merlin came unto Arthur,\nand counselled him to follow them no farther.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How Merlin counselled king Arthur to send for king Ban and king Bors,\n and of their counsel taken for the war._\n\nSo after the feast and tourney king Arthur drew him unto London, and so\nby the counsel of Merlin the king let call his barons to council. For\nMerlin had told the king that the six kings that made war upon him\nwould in all haste be awroke on him and on his lands. Wherefore the\nking asked counsel at them all. They could no counsel give, but said\nthey were big enough. Ye say well, said Arthur; I thank you for your\ngood courage; but will ye all that love me speak with Merlin: ye know\nwell that he hath done much for me, and he knoweth many things, and\nwhen he is afore you I would that ye prayed him heartily of his best\nadvice. All the barons said they would pray him and desire him. So\nMerlin was sent for, and fair desired of all the barons to give them\nbest counsel. I shall say you, said Merlin, I warn you all, your\nenemies are passing strong for you, and they are good men of arms as be\non live, and by this time they have gotten to them four kings more, and\na mighty duke; and unless that our king have more chivalry with him\nthan he may make within the bounds of his own realm, and he fight with\nthem in battle he shall be overcome and slain. What were best to do in\nthis cause? said all the barons. I shall tell you, said Merlin, mine\nadvice: There are two brethren beyond the sea, and they be kings both,\nand marvellous good men of their hands; and that one hight king Ban of\nBenwick, and that other hight king Bors of Gaul, that is France. And on\nthese two kings warreth a mighty man of men, the king Claudas, and\nstriveth with them for a castle; and great war is betwixt them: but\nthis Claudas is so mighty of goods, whereof he getteth good knights,\nthat he putteth these two kings the most part to the worse. Wherefore\nthis is my counsel, that our king and sovereign lord send unto the\nkings Ban and Bors by two trusty knights with letters well devised,\nthat if they will come and see king Arthur and his court, and so help\nhim in his wars, that he will be sworn unto them to help them in their\nwars against king Claudas. Now what say ye unto this counsel? said\nMerlin. This is well counselled, said the king and all the barons.\nRight so in all haste there were ordained to go two knights on the\nmessage unto the two kings. So were there made letters in the pleasant\nwise according unto king Arthur\u2019s desire. Ulfius and Brastias were made\nthe messengers, and rode forth well horsed and well armed, and as the\nguise was that time, and so passed the sea and rode toward the city of\nBenwick. And there besides were eight knights who espied them, and at a\nstraight passage they met with Ulfius and Brastias, and would have\ntaken them prisoners. So they prayed them that they might pass, for\nthey were messengers unto king Ban and Bors sent from king Arthur.\nTherefore, said the eight knights, ye shall die, or be prisoners, for\nwe be knights of king Claudas. And therewith two of them dressed their\nspears, and Ulfius and Brastias dressed their spears, and ran together\nwith great might, and Claudas\u2019s knights brake their spears, and theirs\nto-held, and bare the two knights out of their saddles to the earth,\nand so left them lying, and rode their ways. And the other six knights\nrode afore to a passage to meet with them again, and so Ulfius and\nBrastias smote other two down, and so passed on their ways. And at the\nfourth passage there met two for two, and both were laid to the earth:\nso there was none of the eight knights but he was sore hurt or bruised.\nAnd when they came to Benwick it fortuned there were both kings Ban and\nBors. And when it was told the kings that there were come messengers,\nthere were sent to them two knights of worship, the one hight Lionses,\nlord of the country of Payarne, and Sir Phariance a worshipful knight.\nAnon they asked from whence they came, and they said from king Arthur\nking of England: so they took them in their arms, and made great joy\neach of other. But anon as the two kings wist they were messengers of\nArthur\u2019s, there was made no tarrying, but forthwith they spake with the\nknights and welcomed them in the faithfullest wise, and said they were\nmost welcome unto them before all the kings living. And therewith they\nkissed the letters and delivered them; and when Ban and Bors understood\nthe letters, then were they more welcome than they were before. And\nafter the haste of the letters they gave them this answer, that they\nwould fulfil the desire of king Arthur\u2019s writing, and let Ulfius and\nBrastias tarry there as long as they would, they should have such cheer\nas might be made them in those marches. Then Ulfius and Brastias told\nthe king of the adventure at their passages of the eight knights. Ha,\nha, said Ban and Bors, they were my good friends. I would I had wist of\nthem, they should not have escaped so. So Ulfius and Brastias had good\ncheer and great gifts as much as they might bear away, and had their\nanswer by mouth and by writing, that those two kings would come unto\nArthur in all the haste that they might.\n\nSo the two knights rode on afore, and passed the sea, and came to their\nlord and told him how they had sped, whereof king Arthur was passing\nglad. At what time suppose ye the two kings will be here? Sir, said\nthey, afore Allhallowmas. Then the king let purvey for a great feast,\nand let cry a great justs. And by Allhallowmas the two kings were come\nover the sea with three hundred knights well arrayed both for the peace\nand for the war. And king Arthur met with them ten mile out of London,\nand there was great joy as could be thought or made. And on\nAllhallowmas at the great feast sat in the hall the three kings, and\nSir Kay the seneschal served in the hall, and Sir Lucas the butler,\nthat was duke Corneus\u2019s son, and Sir Griflet that was the son of\nCardol, these three knights had the rule of all the service that served\nthe kings. And anon as they had washed and risen, all knights that\nwould just made them ready. By then they were ready on horseback there\nwere seven hundred knights. And Arthur, Ban, and Bors, with the\narchbishop of Canterbury, and Sir Ector, Kay\u2019s father, they were in a\nplace covered with cloth of gold, like an hall, with ladies and\ngentlewomen, for to behold who did best, and thereon to give judgment.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_Of a great tourney made by king Arthur and the two kings Ban and Bors,\n and how they went over the Sea._\n\nAnd king Arthur and the two kings let part the seven hundred knights in\ntwo parties. And there were three hundred knights of the realm of\nBenwick and of Gaul turned on the other side. Then they dressed their\nshields, and began to couch their spears many good knights. So Griflet\nwas the first that met with a knight, one Ladinas, and they met so\neagerly that all men had wonder; and they so fought that their shields\nfell to pieces, and horse and man fell to the earth, and both the\nFrench knight and the English knight lay so long, that all men wend\nthey had been dead. When Lucas the butler saw Griflet so lie, he horsed\nhim again anon, and they two did marvellous deeds of arms with many\nbachelors. Also Sir Kay came out of an embushment with five knights\nwith him, and they six smote other six down. But Sir Kay did that day\nmarvellous deeds of arms, that there was none did so well as he that\nday. Then there came Ladinas and Grastian, two knights of France, and\ndid passing well, that all men praised them. Then came there Sir\nPlacidas, a good knight, and met with Sir Kay and smote him down, horse\nand man, wherefore Sir Griflet was wroth, and met with Sir Placidas so\nhard that horse and man fell to the earth. But when the five knights\nwist that Sir Kay had a fall they were wroth out of wit, and therewith\neach of them five bare down a knight. When king Arthur and the two\nkings saw them begin to wax wroth on both parts, they leapt on small\nhackneys, and let cry that all men should depart unto their lodging.\nAnd so they went home and unarmed them, and so to even-song and supper.\nAnd after the three kings went into a garden, and gave the prize unto\nSir Kay, and to Lucas the butler, and unto Sir Griflet. And then they\nwent unto council, and with them Gwenbaus, the brother unto Sir Ban and\nBors, a wise clerk, and thither went Ulfius, and Brastias, and Merlin.\nAnd after they had been in council they went unto bed. And on the morn\nthey heard mass, and to dinner, and so to their council, and made many\narguments what were best to do. At the last they were concluded, that\nMerlin should go with a token of king Ban, (and that was a ring,) unto\nhis men and king Bors\u2019s: and Gracian and Placidas should go again and\nkeep their castles and their countries, as king Ban of Benwick and king\nBors of Gaul had ordained them; and so they passed the sea and came to\nBenwick. And when the people saw king Ban\u2019s ring, and Gracian and\nPlacidas, they were glad, and asked how the kings fared, and made great\njoy of their welfare and according. And according unto the sovereign\nlords\u2019 desire, the men of war made them ready in all haste possible, so\nthat they were fifteen thousand on horse and foot, and they had great\nplenty of victual with them by Merlin\u2019s provision. But Gracian and\nPlacidas were left to furnish and garnish the castles for dread of king\nClaudas. Right so Merlin passed the sea, well victualled both by water\nand by land. And when he came to the sea he sent home the footmen\nagain, and took no more with him but ten thousand men on horseback, the\nmost part men of arms, and so shipped and passed the sea into England,\nand landed at Dover: and through the wit of Merlin he led the host\nnorthward, the priviest way that could be thought, unto the forest of\nBedegraine, and there in a valley he lodged them secretly.\n\nThen rode Merlin unto king Arthur and the two kings and told them how\nhe had sped, whereof they had great marvel, that man on earth might\nspeed so soon, and go and come. So Merlin told them ten thousand were\nin the forest of Bedegraine, well armed at all points. Then was there\nno more to say, but to horseback went all the host as Arthur had afore\npurveyed. So with twenty thousand he passed by night and day. But there\nwas made such an ordinance afore by Merlin, that there should no man of\nwar ride nor go in no country on this side Trent water, but if he had a\ntoken from king Arthur, where through the king\u2019s enemies durst not\nride, as they did tofore, to espy.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How eleven kings gathered a great host against king Arthur._\n\nAnd so within a little space the three kings came unto the castle of\nBedegraine, and found there a passing fair fellowship and well beseen,\nwhereof they had great joy, and victual they wanted none.\n\nThis was the cause of the northern host: that they were reared for the\ndespite and rebuke that the six kings had at Carlion. And those six\nkings by their means gat unto them five other kings, and thus they\nbegan to gather their people, and how they sware that for weal nor woe\nthey should not leave each other till they had destroyed Arthur. And\nthen they made an oath. The first that began the oath was the duke of\nCambenet, that he would bring with him five thousand men of arms, the\nwhich were ready on horseback. Then sware king Brandegoris of\nStranggore that he would bring five thousand men of arms on horseback.\nThen sware king Clariance of Northumberland that he would bring three\nthousand men of arms. Then sware the king of the hundred knights, that\nwas a passing good man and a young, that he would bring four thousand\nmen on horseback. Then there swore king Lot, a passing good knight and\nSir Gawaine\u2019s father, that he would bring five thousand men of arms on\nhorseback. Also there swore king Urience, that was Sir Uwaine\u2019s father,\nof the land of Gore, and he would bring six thousand men of arms on\nhorseback. Also there swore king Idres of Cornwall, that he would bring\nfive thousand men of arms on horseback. Also there swore king Cradelmas\nto bring five thousand men of arms on horseback. Also there swore king\nAgwisance of Ireland, to bring five thousand men of arms on horseback.\nAlso there swore king Nentres to bring five thousand men of arms on\nhorseback. Also there swore king Carados to bring five thousand men of\narms on horseback. So their whole host was of clean men of arms on\nhorseback fifty thousand; and afoot ten thousand of good mens\u2019 bodies.\nThen were they soon ready and mounted upon horse, and sent forth their\nfore-riders: for these eleven kings in their way laid siege unto the\ncastle of Bedegraine; and so they departed and drew toward Arthur, and\nleft few to abide at the siege, for the castle of Bedegraine was holden\nof king Arthur, and the men that were therein were Arthur\u2019s.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_Of a dream of the king with the hundred knights._\n\nSo by Merlin\u2019s advice there were sent fore-riders to skim the country,\nand they met with the fore-riders of the north, and made them to tell\nwhich way the host came, and then they told it to Arthur, and by king\nBan and Bors\u2019s counsel they let burn and destroy all the country afore\nthem where they should ride.\n\nThe king with the hundred knights dreamed a wonder dream two nights\nafore the battle, that there blew a great wind, and blew down their\ncastles and their towns, and after that came a water and bare it all\naway. All that heard of the dream said it was a token of great battle.\nThen, by counsel of Merlin, when they wist which way the eleven kings\nwould ride and lodge that night, at midnight they set upon them, as\nthey were in their pavilions. But the scout-watch by their host cried,\nLords! at arms! for here be your enemies at your hand!\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How the eleven kings with their host fought against Arthur and his\n host, and many great feats of the war._\n\nThen king Arthur and king Ban and king Bors, with their good and trusty\nknights, set on them so fiercely that they made them overthrow their\npavilions on their heads; but the eleven kings by manly prowess of arms\ntook a fair field. But there was slain that morrow tide ten thousand\ngood men\u2019s bodies. And so they had afore them a strong passage, yet\nwere they fifty thousand of hardy men. Then it drew toward day. Now\nshall ye do by mine advice, said Merlin unto the three kings: I would\nthat king Ban and king Bors with their fellowship of ten thousand men\nwere put in a wood here beside in an embushment, and keep them privy,\nand that they be laid or the light of the day come, and that they stir\nnor till ye and your knights have fought with them long: and when it is\ndaylight dress your battle even afore them and the passage, that they\nmay see all your host, for then they will be the more hardy when they\nsee you but about twenty thousand, and be the gladder to suffer you and\nyour host to come over the passage. All the three kings and the whole\nbarons said that Merlin said passingly well, and it was done anon as\nMerlin had devised. So on the morn, when either host saw other, the\nhost of the north was well comforted. Then to Ulfius and Brastias were\ndelivered three thousand men of arms, and they set on them fiercely in\nthe passage, and slew on the right hand and on the left hand, that it\nwas wonder to tell. When that the eleven knights saw that there was so\nfew a fellowship did such deeds of arms, they were ashamed, and set on\nthem again fiercely, and there was Sir Ulfius\u2019s horse slain under him,\nbut he did marvellously well on foot. But the duke Eustace of Cambenet,\nand king Clariance of Northumberland, were alway grievous on Sir\nUlfius. When Brastias saw his fellow fared so withal, he smote the duke\nwith a spear, that horse and man fell down. That saw king Clariance,\nand returned to Brastias, and either smote other so that horse and man\nwent to the earth, and so they lay long astonied, and their horses\u2019\nknees brast to the hard bone. Then came Sir Kay the seneschal with six\nfellows with him, and did passing well. With that came the eleven\nkings, and there was Griflet put to the earth, horse and man, and Lucas\nthe butler, horse and man, by king Brandegoris and king Idres and king\nAgwisance. Then waxed the meddle passing hard on both parties. When Sir\nKay saw Griflet on foot he rode on king Nentres and smote him down, and\nled his horse to Sir Griflet and horsed him again. Also Sir Kay with\nthe same spear smote down king Lot, and hurt him passing sore. That saw\nthe king with the hundred knights, and ran unto Sir Kay and smote him\ndown and took his horse, and gave him to king Lot, whereof he said\ngramercy. When Sir Griflet saw Sir Kay and Lucas the butler on foot, he\ntook a sharp spear great and square and rode to Pinel, a good man of\narms, and smote horse and man down, and then he took his horse and gave\nhim unto Sir Kay. When king Lot saw king Nentres on foot he ran unto\nMelot de la Roche and smote him down horse and man, and gave king\nNentres the horse and horsed him again. Also the king of the hundred\nknights saw king Idres on foot; then he ran unto Gwimiart de Bloi, and\nsmote him down horse and man, and gave king Idres the horse and horsed\nhim again; and king Lot smote down Clariance de la Forest Savage, and\ngave the horse unto duke Eustace. And so when they had horsed the kings\nagain they drew them all eleven kings together, and said they would be\nrevenged of the damage they had taken that day. The meanwhile came in\nSir Ector with an eager countenance, and found Ulfius and Brastias on\nfoot in great peril of death, that were foul bruised under the horse\nfeet. Then king Arthur as a lion ran unto king Cradelment of North\nWales, and smote him through the left side, that the horse and the king\nfell down; and then he took the horse by the rein and led him unto\nUlfius, and said, Have this horse, mine old friend, for great need hast\nthou of horse. Gramercy, said Ulfius. Then Sir Arthur did so\nmarvellously in arms that all men had wonder. When the king with the\nhundred knights saw king Cradelment on foot he ran unto Sir Ector, that\nwas well horsed, Sir Kay\u2019s father, and smote horse and man down, and\ngave the horse unto the king and horsed him again. And when king Arthur\nsaw the king ride on Sir Ector\u2019s horse he was wroth, and with his sword\nhe smote the king on the helm, that a quarter of the helm and shield\nfell down, and the sword carved down unto the horse\u2019s neck, and so the\nking and the horse fell down to the ground. Then Sir Kay came to Sir\nMorganore, seneschal with the king of the hundred knights, and smote\nhim down horse and man, and led the horse unto his father Sir Ector:\nthen Sir Ector ran unto a knight, hight Lardans, and smote horse and\nman down, and led the horse unto Sir Brastias that great need had of an\nhorse, and was greatly bruised. When Brastias beheld Lucas the butler,\nthat lay like a dead man under the horse feet, and ever Sir Griflet did\nmarvellously for to rescue him, and there were always fourteen knights\non Sir Lucas, then Brastias smote one of them on the helm that it went\nto the teeth, and he rode to another and smote him that the arm flew\ninto the field. Then he went to the third, and smote him on the\nshoulder that shoulder and arm flew in the field. And when Griflet saw\nrescues he smote a knight on the temples, that head and helm went to\nthe earth, and Griflet took the horse of that knight and led him unto\nSir Lucas, and bad him mount upon the horse and revenge his hurts. For\nBrastias had slain a knight tofore, and horsed Griflet.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_Yet of the same battle._\n\nThen Lucas saw king Agwisance, that late had slain Moris de la Roche,\nand Lucas ran to him with a short spear that was great, that he gave\nhim such a fall that the horse fell down to the earth. Also Lucas found\nthere on foot Bloias de la Flandres and Sir Gwinas, two hardy knights,\nand in that woodness that Lucas was in he slew two bachelors, and\nhorsed them again. Then waxed the battle passing hard on both parties,\nbut Arthur was glad that his knights were horsed again, and then they\nfought together that the noise and sound rang by the water and the\nwood. Wherefore king Ban and king Bors made them ready and dressed\ntheir shields and harness, and they were so courageous that many\nknights shook and trembled for eagerness. All this while Lucas, and\nGwinas, and Briant, and Bellias of Flanders, held strong meddle against\nsix kings, that was king Lot, king Nentres, king Brandegoris, king\nIdres, king Uriens, and king Agwisance. So with the help of Sir Kay and\nof Sir Griflet they held these six kings hard, that unneth they had any\npower to defend them. But when Sir Arthur saw the battle would not be\nended by no manner he fared wood as a lion, and steered his horse here\nand there, on the right hand and on the left hand, that he stinted not\ntill he had slain twenty knights. Also he wounded king Lot sore on the\nshoulder, and made him to leave that ground, for Sir Kay and Griflet\ndid with king Arthur there great deeds of arms. Then Ulfius, Brastias,\nand Sir Ector, encountered against the duke Eustace, and king\nCradelment, and king Cradelmas, and king Clariance of Northumberland,\nand king Carados, and against the king with the hundred knights. So\nthese knights encountered with these kings that they made them to avoid\nthe ground. Then king Lot made great dole for his damages and his\nfellows, and said unto the eleven kings. But if ye will do as I devise\nwe shall be slain and destroyed: let me have the king with the hundred\nknights, and king Agwisance, and king Idres, and the duke of Cambenet,\nand we five kings will have fifteen thousand men of arms with us, and\nwe will go apart while ye six kings hold the meddle with twelve\nthousand, and when we see that ye have foughten with them long then\nwill we come on fiercely, and else shall we never match them, said king\nLot, but by this mean. So they departed as they here devised, and six\nkings made their party strong against Arthur, and made great war long.\nIn the meanwhile brake the embushment of king Ban and Bors, and Lionses\nand Phariance had the advant guard, and they two knights met with king\nIdres and his fellowship, and there began a great meddle of breaking of\nspears and smiting of swords with slaying of men and horses, and king\nIdres was near at discomfiture.\n\nThat saw Agwisance the king, and put Lionses and Phariance in point of\ndeath: for the duke of Cambenet came on withal with a great fellowship,\nso these two knights were in great danger of their lives that they were\nfain to return, but always they rescued themselves and their fellowship\nmarvellously. When king Bors saw those knights put aback it grieved him\nsore; then he came on so fast that his fellowship seemed as black as\nInde. When king Lot had espied king Bors he knew him well; then he\nsaid, O defend us from death and horrible maims, for I see well we be\nin great peril of death; for I see yonder a king, one of the most\nworshipfulest men, and one of the best knights of the world, is\ninclined unto his fellowship. What is he? said the king with the\nhundred knights. It is, said king Lot, king Bors of Gaul; I marvel how\nthey came into this country without witting of us all. It was by\nMerlin\u2019s advice, said the knight. As for him, said king Carados, I will\nencounter with king Bors, if ye will rescue me when need is. Go on,\nsaid they all, we will do all that we may. Then king Carados and his\nhost rode on a soft pace till that they came as nigh king Bors as a bow\ndraught: then either battle let their horses run as fast as they might.\nAnd Bleoberis that was god-son unto king Bors he bare his chief\nstandard, that was a passing good knight. Now shall we see, said king\nBors, how these northern Britons can bear their arms. And king Bors\nencountered with a knight, and smote him throughout with a spear that\nhe fell dead unto the earth, and after drew his sword and did\nmarvellous deeds of arms, that all parties had great wonder thereof;\nand his knights failed not but did their part, and king Carados was\nsmitten to the earth. With that came the king with the hundred knights\nand rescued king Carados mightily by force of arms, for he was a\npassing good knight of a king, and but a young man.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_Yet more of the same battle._\n\nBy then came into field king Ban as fierce as a lion, with bands of\ngreen and thereupon gold. Ha, ha, said king Lot, we must be\ndiscomfited, for yonder I see the most valiant knight of the world, and\nthe man of the most renown: for such two brethren as is king Ban and\nking Bors are not living, wherefore we must needs void or die; and but\nif we avoid manly and wisely there is but death. When king Ban came\ninto the battle, he came in so fiercely that the strokes resounded\nagain from the wood and the water; wherefore king Lot wept for pity and\ndole that he saw so many good knights take their end. But through the\ngreat force of king Ban they made both the northern battles that were\nparted to hurtle together for great dread, and the three kings with\ntheir knights slew on ever, that it was pity to behold that multitude\nof the people that fled. But king Lot and the king of the hundred\nknights and king Morganore gathered the people together passing\nknightly, and did great prowess of arms, and held the battle all that\nday like hard. When the king of the hundred knights beheld the great\ndamage that king Ban did, he thrust unto him with his horse, and smote\nhim on high upon the helm a great stroke, and astonied him sore. Then\nking Ban was wroth with him, and followed on him fiercely: the other\nsaw that, and cast up his shield and spurred his horse forward, but the\nstroke of king Ban fell down and carved a cantel of the shield, and the\nsword slid down by the hauberk behind his back, and cut through the\ntrapping of steel, and the horse even in two pieces, that the sword\nfelt the earth. Then the king of the hundred knights voided the horse\nlightly, and with his sword he broched the horse of king Ban through\nand through. With that king Ban voided lightly from the dead horse, and\nthen king Ban smote at the other so eagerly and smote him on the helm,\nthat he fell to the earth. Also in that ire he felled king Morganore,\nand there was great slaughter of good knights and much people. By then\ncame into the press king Arthur, and found king Ban standing among dead\nmen and dead horses, fighting on foot as a wood lion, that there came\nnone nigh him as far as he might reach with his sword but that he\ncaught a grievous buffet; whereof king Arthur had great pity. And\nArthur was so bloody that by his shield there might no man know him,\nfor all was blood and brains on his sword. And as Arthur looked by him\nhe saw a knight that was passing well horsed, and therewith Sir Arthur\nran to him and smote him on the helm that his sword went unto his\nteeth, and the knight sank down to the earth dead, and anon Arthur took\nthe horse by the rein and led him unto king Ban, and said, Fair brother\nhave this horse, for ye have great need thereof, and me repenteth sore\nof your great damage. It shall be soon revenged, said king Ban, for I\ntrust mine use is not such but some of them may sore repent this. I\nwill well, said Arthur, for I see your deeds full actual; nevertheless,\nI might not come at you at that time. But when king Ban was mounted on\nhorseback, then there began new battle the which was sore and hard, and\npassing great slaughter. And so through great force king Arthur, and\nking Ban, and king Bors made their knights a little to withdraw them.\nBut always the eleven kings with their chivalry never turned back, and\nso withdrew them to a little wood, and so over a little river, and\nthere they rested them, for on the night they might have no rest in the\nfield. And then the eleven kings and knights put them on a heap all\ntogether, as men adread and out of all comfort. But there was no man\nmight pass them, they held them so hard together, both behind and\nbefore, that king Arthur had marvel of their deeds of arms, and was\npassing wroth. Ah, Sir Arthur, said king Ban and king Bors, blame them\nnot, for they do as good men ought to do. For by my faith, said king\nBan, they are the best fighting men and knights of most prowess that\never I saw or heard speak of, and those eleven kings are men of great\nworship, and if they were belonging unto you there were no king under\nthe heaven had such eleven knights, and of such worship. I may not love\nthem, said Arthur, they would destroy me. That wot we well, said king\nBan and king Bors, for they are your mortal enemies, and that hath been\nproved aforehand, and this day they have done their part, and that is\ngreat pity of their wilfulness.\n\nThen all the eleven kings drew them together, and then said king Lot:\nLords, ye must other ways than ye do, or else the great loss is behind:\nye may see what people we have lost, and what good men we lose, because\nwe wait always upon these footmen, and ever in saving of one of the\nfootmen we lose ten horsemen for him; therefore this is mine advice,\nlet us put our footmen from us, for it is near night, for the noble\nArthur will not tarry on the footmen, for they may save themselves, the\nwood is near hand. And when we horsemen be together, look every each of\nyou kings let make such ordinance that none break upon pain of death.\nAnd who that seeth any man dress him to flee, lightly that he be slain,\nfor it is better that we slay a coward than through a coward all we to\nbe slain. How say ye? said king Lot, answer me, all ye kings. It is\nwell said, quoth king Nentres; so said the king of the hundred knights;\nthe same said the king Carados, and king Uriens; so did king Idres, and\nking Brandegoris; and so did king Cradelmas, and the duke of Cambenet;\nthe same said king Clariance, and king Agwisance;\u2014and sware they would\nnever fail other, neither for life nor for death. And whoso that fled,\nbut did as they did, should be slain. Then they amended their harness,\nand righted their shields, and took new spears and set them on their\nthighs, and stood still as it had been a plump of wood.\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n_Yet more of the said battle, and how it was ended by Merlin._\n\nWhen Sir Arthur and King Ban and Bors beheld them and all their\nknights, they praised them much for their noble cheer of chivalry, for\nthe hardiest fighters that ever they heard or saw. With that there\ndressed them a forty noble knights, and said unto the three kings they\nwould break their battle: these were their names: Lionses, Phariance,\nUlfius, Brastias, Ector, Kay, Lucas the butler, Griflet la Fise de\nDieu, Mariet de la Roche, Guynas de Bloy, Briant de la Forest Savage,\nBellaus, Morians of the Castle of Maidens, Flannedrius of the Castle of\nLadies, Annecians that was king Bors\u2019s godson, a noble knight, Ladinas\nde la Rouse, Emerause, Caulas, and Graciens le Castlein, one Bloise de\nla Case, and Sir Colgrevaunce de Gorre. All these knights rode on afore\nwith spears on their thighs, and spurred their horses mightily as the\nhorses might run. And the eleven kings with part of their knights\nrushed with their horses as fast as they might with their spears, and\nthere they did on both parties marvellous deeds of arms. So came into\nthe thick of the press Arthur, Ban, and Bors, and slew down right on\nboth hands, that their horses went in blood up to the fetlocks. But\never the eleven kings and their host were ever in the visage of Arthur.\nWherefore Ban and Bors had great marvel, considering the great\nslaughter that there was, but at the last they were driven aback over a\nlittle river. With that came Merlin on a great black horse, and said\nunto Arthur: Thou hast never done: hast thou not done enough? of\nthree-score thousand this day hast thou left on live but fifteen\nthousand, and it is time to say Ho! For God is wroth with thee that\nthou wilt never have done, for yonder eleven kings at this time will\nnot be overthrown, but and thou tarry on them any longer thy fortune\nwill turn and they shall increase. And therefore withdraw you unto your\nlodging, and rest you as soon as ye may, and reward your good knights\nwith gold and with silver, for they have well deserved it; there may no\nriches be too dear for them, for of so few men as ye have there were\nnever men did more of prowess than they have done to day, for ye have\nmatched this day with the best fighters of the world. That is truth,\nsaid king Ban and Bors. Also said Merlin, withdraw you where ye list,\nfor this three year I dare undertake they shall not dare you; and by\nthen ye shall hear new tidings. And then Merlin said unto Arthur: These\neleven kings have more on hand than they are ware of, for the Saracens\nare landed in their countries, more than forty thousand that burn and\nslay, and have laid siege at the castle Wandesborow, and made great\ndestruction; therefore dread you not this three year. Also Sir, all the\ngoods that be gotten at this battle let it be searched: and when ye\nhave it in your hands let it be given freely unto these two kings, Ban\nand Bors, that they may reward their knights withal; and that shall\ncause strangers to be of better will to do you service at need. Also ye\nbe able to reward your own knights of your own goods whensoever it\nliketh you. It is well said, quoth Arthur, and as thou hast devised so\nshall it be done. When it was delivered to Ban and Bors, they gave the\ngoods as freely to their knights as it was given them.\n\nThen Merlin took his leave of Arthur and of the two kings, for to go\nand see his master Bleise that dwelt in Northumberland, and so he\ndeparted and came to his master, that was passing glad of his coming.\nAnd there he told how Arthur and the two kings had sped at the great\nbattle, and how it was ended, and told the names of every king and\nknight of worship that was there. And so Bleise wrote the battle, word\nby word, as Merlin told him, how it began, and by whom, and in likewise\nhow it was ended, and who had the worse. All the battles that were done\nin Arthur\u2019s days Merlin did his master Bleise do write. Also, he did do\nwrite all the battles that every worthy knight did of Arthur\u2019s court.\nAfter this Merlin departed from his master and came to king Arthur,\nthat was in the castle of Bedegraine, that was one of the castles that\nstood in the forest of Sherwood. And Merlin was so disguised that king\nArthur knew him not, for he was all befurred in black sheepskins, and a\ngreat pair of boots, and a bow and arrows, in a russet gown, and\nbrought wild geese in his hand, and it was on the morn after Candlemas\nDay, but king Arthur knew him not. Sir, said Merlin unto the king, will\nye give me a gift? Wherefore said king Arthur should I give thee a\ngift, churl? Sir, said Merlin, ye were better to give me a gift that is\nnot in your hand, than to lose great riches; for here, in the same\nplace where the great battle was, is great treasure hid in the earth.\nWho told thee so, churl? said Arthur. Merlin told me so, said he. Then\nUlfius and Brastias knew him well enough, and smiled. Sir, said these\ntwo knights, it is Merlin that so speaketh unto you. Then king Arthur\nwas greatly abashed, and had marvel of Merlin, and so had king Ban and\nking Bors, and so they had great disport at him.\n\nSo, in the mean while, there came a damsel which was an earl\u2019s\ndaughter, and his name was Sanam, and her name was Lionors, a passing\nfair damsel, and so she came thither for to do homage, as other lords\ndid after the great battle. And king Arthur set his love greatly upon\nher, and so did she upon him, and she bare a child and his name was\nBorre, that was after a good knight, and of the Table Round. Then there\ncame word that the king Rience of North Wales made great war upon king\nLeodegrance of Cameliard, for the which thing Arthur was wroth, for he\nloved him well and hated king Rience, for he was always against him. So\nby ordinance of the three kings that was sent home to Benwick, all they\nwould depart for dread of king Claudas; Phariance, and Antemes, and\nGratian, and Lionses of Payarne, with the leaders of those that should\nkeep the kings\u2019 lands.\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n_How king Arthur, king Ban, and king Bors rescued king Leodegrance, and\n other incidents._\n\nAnd then king Arthur and king Ban and king Bors departed with their\nfellowship, a twenty thousand, and came within six days into the\ncountry of Cameliard, and there rescued king Leodegrance and slew there\nmuch people of king Rience unto the number of ten thousand men, and put\nhim to flight. And then had these three kings great cheer of king\nLeodegrance that thanked them of their great goodness, that they would\nrevenge him of his enemies. And there had Arthur the first sight of\nGuenever, the king\u2019s daughter of Cameliard, and ever after he loved\nher. After they were wedded, as it telleth in the book. So, briefly to\nmake an end, they took their leave to go into their own countries, for\nking Claudas did great destruction on their lands. Then said Arthur, I\nwill go with you. Nay, said the kings, ye shall not at this time, for\nye have much to do yet in these lands, therefore we will depart, and\nwith the great goods that we have gotten in these lands by your gifts,\nwe shall wage good knights, and withstand the king Claudas\u2019s malice,\nfor, by the grace of God, and we have need we will send to you for your\nsuccour; and if ye have need, send for us, and we will not tarry, by\nthe faith of our bodies. It shall not, said Merlin, need that these two\nkings come again in the way of war: but I know well king Arthur may not\nbe long from you, for within a year or two ye shall have great need,\nand then shall he revenge you on your enemies, as ye have done on his.\nFor these eleven kings shall die all in a day, by the great might and\nprowess of arms of two valiant knights (as it telleth after) their\nnames being Balin le Savage, and Balan his brother, which be marvellous\ngood knights as be any living.\n\nNow turn we to the eleven kings, that returned unto a city that hight\nSorhaute, the which city was within king Uriens, and there they\nrefreshed them as well as they might, and made leeches search their\nwounds, and sorrowed greatly for the death of their people. With that\nthere came a messager and told how there was come into their lands\npeople that were lawless as well as Saracens a forty thousand, and have\nburnt and slain all the people that they may come by without mercy and\nhave laid siege on the castle of Wandesborow. Alas! said the eleven\nkings, here is sorrow on sorrow, and if we had not warred against\nArthur as we had done, he would soon revenge us: as for king\nLeodegrance, he loveth king Arthur better than us, and as for king\nRience he hath enough to do with king Leodegrance, for he hath laid\nsiege unto him. So they consented together to keep all the marches of\nCornwall, of Wales, and of the North. So first they put king Idres in\nthe city of Nauntes in Britain with four thousand men of arms, to watch\nboth the water and the land. Also they put in the city of Windesan king\nNentres of Garlot with four thousand knights, to watch both on water\nand on land. Also they had of other men of war more than eight\nthousand, for to fortify all the fortresses in the marches of Cornwall.\nAlso they put more knights in all the marches of Wales and Scotland\nwith many good men of arms. And so they kept them together the space of\nthree years, and ever allied them with mighty kings, and dukes, and\nlords. And to them fell king Rience of North Wales, the which was a\nmighty man of men, and Nero that was a mighty man of men. And all this\nwhile they furnished them and garnished them of good men of arms and\nvictual, and of all manner of habiliment that pretendeth to the war, to\navenge them for the battle of Bedegraine, as it telleth in the book of\nadventures following.\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n_How king Arthur rode to Carlion, and of his dream, and how he saw the\n questing beast._\n\nThen after the departing of king Ban and of king Bors king Arthur rode\nunto Carlion. And thither came to him Lot\u2019s wife of Orkney, in manner\nof a messenger, but she was sent thither to espy the court of king\nArthur; and she came richly beseen with her four sons, Gawaine,\nGaheris, Agravaine, and Gareth, with many other knights and ladies, and\nshe was a passing fair lady, wherefore the king cast great love unto\nher, and so was Mordred born, and she was his sister, on the mother\nside Igraine. So there she rested her a month, and at the last\ndeparted. Then the king dreamed a marvellous dream whereof he was sore\nadread. But all this time king Arthur knew not that king Lot\u2019s wife was\nhis sister. Thus was the dream of Arthur. Him thought that there was\ncome into this land griffons and serpents, and him thought they burnt\nand slew all the people in the land, and then him thought he fought\nwith them, and they did him passing great harm and wounded him full\nsore, but at the last he slew them. When the king awaked he was passing\nheavy of his dream, and so to put it out of thoughts he made him ready\nwith many knights to ride on hunting. As soon as he was in the forest\nthe king saw a great hart afore him. This hart will I chase, said king\nArthur, and so he spurred the horse and rode after long, and so by fine\nforce oft he was like to have smitten the hart, till the king had\nchased the hart so long that his horse had lost his breath, and fell\ndown dead. Then a yeoman fetched the king another horse. So the king\nsaw the hart embushed and his horse dead; he sat him down by a\nfountain, and there he fell in great thoughts; and as he sat so him\nthought he heard a noise of hounds, to the sum of thirty. And with that\nthe king saw coming toward him the strangest beast that ever he saw or\nheard of; so the beast went to the well and drank, and the noise was in\nthe beast\u2019s belly like unto the questing of thirty couple hounds; but\nall the while the beast drank there was no noise in the beast\u2019s belly,\nand therewith the beast departed with a great noise, whereof the king\nhad great marvel. And so he was in great thought, and therewith he fell\non sleep. Right so there came a knight afoot unto Arthur, and said,\nKnight, full of thought and sleepy, tell me if thou sawest a strange\nbeast pass this way. Such one saw I, said king Arthur, that is past two\nmiles: what would you with the beast? said Arthur. Sir, I have followed\nthat beast long time, and have killed my horse; so would I had another\nto follow my quest. Right so came one with the king\u2019s horse, and when\nthe knight saw the horse he prayed the king to give him the horse, For\nI have followed this quest this twelvemonth, and either I shall achieve\nhim or bleed of the best blood of my body. Pellinore that time king\nfollowed the questing beast, and after his death Sir Palomides followed\nit.\n\n\n CHAP. XVIII.\n\n_How king Pellinore took Arthur\u2019s horse and followed the questing\n beast, and how Merlin met with Arthur._\n\nSir knight, said the king, leave that quest and suffer me to have it,\nand I will follow it another twelve month. Ah fool, said the knight\nunto Arthur, it is in vain thy desire, for it shall never be achieved\nbut by me, or my next kin. Therewith he stert unto the king\u2019s horse,\nand mounted into the saddle, and said, Gramercy, this horse is mine\nown. Well, said the king, thou mayest take my horse by force, but and I\nmight prove thee whether thou wert better on horseback or I. Well, said\nthe knight, seek me here when thou wilt, and here nigh this well thou\nshalt find me; and so passed on his way. Then the king sat in a study,\nand bad his men fetch his horse as fast as ever they might. Right so\ncame by him Merlin like a child of fourteen year of age, and saluted\nthe king, and asked him why he was so pensive? I may well be pensive,\nsaid the king, for I have seen the marvellest sight that ever I saw.\nThat know I well, said Merlin, as well as thyself, and of all thy\nthoughts; but thou art but a fool to take thought, for it will not\namend thee. Also I know what thou art, and who was thy father, and of\nwhom thou wert born; king Uther Pendragon was thy father, and had thee\nof Igraine. That is false, said king Arthur; how shouldest thou know\nit? for thou art not so old of years to know my father. Yes, said\nMerlin, I know it better than ye or any man living. I will not believe\nthee, said Arthur, and was wroth with the child. So departed Merlin;\nand came again in the likeness of an old man of fourscore years of age,\nwhereof the king was right glad, for he seemed to be right wise.\n\nThen said the old man, Why are ye so sad? I may well be heavy, said\nArthur, for many things. Also here was a child, and told me many things\nthat me seemeth he should not know, for he was not of age to know my\nfather. Yes, said the old man, the child told you truth, and more would\nhe have told you and ye would have suffered him. But ye have done a\nthing late that God is displeased with you, and your sister shall have\na child that shall destroy you and all the knights of your realm. What\nare ye, said Arthur, that tell me these tidings? I am Merlin, and I was\nhe in the child\u2019s likeness. Ah, said king Arthur, ye are a marvellous\nman, but I marvel much of thy words that I must die in battle. Marvel\nnot, said Merlin, for it is God\u2019s will your body to be punished for\nyour foul deeds. But I may well be sorry, said Merlin, for I shall die\na shameful death, to be put in the earth quick, and ye shall die a\nworshipful death. And as they talked this, came one with the king\u2019s\nhorse, and so the king mounted on his horse and Merlin on another, and\nso rode unto Carlion. And anon the king asked Ector and Ulfius how he\nwas born. And they told him that Uther Pendragon was his father, and\nqueen Igraine his mother: then he said to Merlin, I will that my mother\nbe sent for, that I may speak with her, and if she say so herself, then\nwill I believe it. In all haste the queen was sent for, and she came\nand brought with her Morgan le Fay her daughter, that was as fair a\nlady as any might be. And the king welcomed Igraine in the best manner.\n\n\n CHAP. XIX.\n\n_How Ulfius appeached queen Igraine, Arthur\u2019s mother, of treason: and\n how a knight came and desired to have the death of his master\n revenged._\n\nRight so came Ulfius and said openly, that the king and all might hear\nthat were feasted that day, Ye are the falsest lady of the world, and\nthe most traitress unto the king\u2019s person. Beware, said Arthur, what\nthou sayest; thou speakest a great word. I am well ware, said Sir\nUlfius, what I speak, and here is my glove to prove it upon any man\nthat will say the contrary, that this queen Igraine is causer of your\ngreat damage, and of your great war. For, and she would have uttered it\nin the life of king Uther Pendragon of the birth of you, ye had never\nhad half the mortal wars that ye have had: for the most part of your\nbarons of your realm knew never whose son ye were, nor of whom ye were\nborn. And she that bear you should have made it known openly in\nexcusing of her worship and yours, and in likewise to all the realm;\nwherefore I prove her false to God and to you and to all your realm,\nand who will say the contrary I will prove it upon his body.\n\nThen spake Igraine and said, I am a woman, and I may not fight, but\nrather than I should be dishonoured there would some good man take my\nquarrel. More she said, Merlin knoweth well, and ye Sir Ulfius, how\nking Uther came to me in the castle of Tintagel, in the likeness of my\nlord that was dead three hours tofore. And after my lord was dead king\nUther wedded me, and by his commandment when the child was born it was\ndelivered unto Merlin, and nourished by him, and so I saw the child\nnever after, nor wot not what is his name, for I knew him never yet.\nAnd there Ulfius said to the queen, Merlin is more to blame than ye.\nWell I wot, said the queen, that I bare a child by my lord king Uther,\nbut I wot not where he is become. Then Merlin took the king by the\nhand, saying, This is your mother. And therewith Sir Ector bare witness\nhow he nourished him by Uther\u2019s commandment. And, therewith king Arthur\ntook his mother queen Igraine in his arms and kissed her and either\nwept upon other. And then the king let make a feast that lasted eight\ndays. Then on a day there came into the court a squire on horseback,\nleading a knight before him wounded to the death, and told him how\nthere was a knight in the forest had reared up a pavilion by a well,\nand hath slain my master, a good knight, his name was Miles; wherefore\nI beseech you that my master may be buried, and that some knight may\nrevenge my master\u2019s death. Then the noise was great of that knight\u2019s\ndeath in the court, and every man said his advice: then came Griflet\nthat was but a squire, and he was but young, of the age of king Arthur;\nso he besought the king for all his service that he had done him to\ngive him the order of knighthood.\n\n\n CHAP. XX.\n\n_How Griflet was made knight, and justed with a knight._\n\nThou art full young and tender of age, said Arthur, for to take so high\nan order on thee. Sir, said Griflet, I beseech you make me knight. Sir,\nsaid Merlin, it were great pity to lose Griflet, for he will be a\npassing good man when he is of age, abiding with you the term of his\nlife. And if he adventure his body with yonder knight at the fountain\nit is in great peril if ever he come again, for he is one of the best\nknights of the world, and the strongest man of arms. Well, said king\nArthur. So at the desire of Griflet the king made him knight. Now, said\nArthur unto Sir Griflet, since I have made you knight, thou must give\nme a gift. What ye will, said Griflet. Thou shalt promise me by the\nfaith of thy body, when thou hast justed with the knight at the\nfountain, whether it fall ye be on foot or on horseback, that right so\nye shall come again unto me without making any more debate. I will\npromise you, said Griflet, as you desire. Then took Griflet his horse\nin great haste, and dressed his shield, and took a spear in his hand,\nand so he rode a great wallop till he came to the fountain, and thereby\nhe saw a rich pavilion, and thereby under a cloth stood a fair horse\nwell saddled and bridled, and on a tree a shield of divers colours, and\na great spear. Then Griflet smote on the shield with the butt of his\nspear that the shield fell down to the ground. With that the knight\ncame out of the pavilion and said, Fair knight, why smote ye down my\nshield? For I will just with you, said Griflet. It is better ye do not,\nsaid the knight, for ye are but young, and late made knight, and your\nmight is nothing to mine. As for that, said Griflet, I will just with\nyou. That is me loth, said the knight, but since I must needs I will\ndress me thereto: of whence be ye? said the knight. Sir, I am of\nArthur\u2019s court. So the two knights ran together, that Griflet\u2019s spear\nall to-shivered, and therewithal he smote Griflet through the shield\nand the left side, and brake the spear, that the truncheon stack in his\nbody, that horse and knight fell down.\n\n\n CHAP. XXI.\n\n_How twelve knights came from Rome and asked truage for this land of\n Arthur, and how Arthur fought with a knight._\n\nWhen the knight saw him lie so on the ground he alighted, and was\npassing heavy, for he wend he had slain him, and then he unlaced his\nhelm and gat him wind, and so with the truncheon he set him on his\nhorse and gat him wind, and so betook him to God, and said he had a\nmighty heart, and if he might live he would prove a passing good\nknight. And so Sir Griflet rode to the court, where great dole was made\nfor him. But through good leeches he was healed and saved.\n\nRight so came into the court twelve knights, and were aged men, and\nthey came from the emperor of Rome, and they asked of Arthur truage for\nthis realm, other else the emperor would destroy him and his land.\nWell, said king Arthur, ye are messagers, therefore may ye say what ye\nwill, other else ye should die therefore. But this is mine answer; I\nowe the emperor no truage, nor none will I hold him; but on a fair\nfield I shall give him my truage, that shall be with a sharp spear or\nelse with a sharp sword, and that shall not be long, by my father\u2019s\nsoul, Uther Pendragon. And therewith the messagers departed passingly\nwroth, and king Arthur as wroth, for in evil time came they then, for\nthe king was passingly wroth for the hurt of Sir Griflet. And so he\ncommanded a privyman of his chamber, that or it be day his best horse\nand armour, with all that belongeth unto his person, be without the\ncity or to-morrow day. Right so, or to-morrow day, he met with his man\nand his horse, and so mounted up, and dressed his shield, and took his\nspear, and bade his chamberlain tarry there till he came again.\n\nAnd so Arthur rode a soft pace till it was day, and then was he aware\nof three churls chasing Merlin, and would have slain him. Then the king\nrode unto them and bade them, Flee churls! Then were they afeard when\nthey saw a knight, and fled. O Merlin, said Arthur, here haddest thou\nbeen slain for all thy crafts, had I not been. Nay, said Merlin, not\nso, for I could save myself an I would, and thou art more near thy\ndeath than I am, for thou goest to the death-ward, and God be not thy\nfriend. So as they went thus talking they came to the fountain, and the\nrich pavilion there by it. Then king Arthur was ware where sat a knight\narmed in a chair. Sir knight, said Arthur, for what cause abidest thou\nhere, that there may no knight ride this way but if he just with thee,\nsaid the king: I rede thee leave that custom, said Arthur. This custom,\nsaid the knight, have I used and will use maugre who saith nay; and who\nis grieved with my custom let him amend it that will. I will amend it,\nsaid Arthur. I shall defend thee, said the knight. Anon he took his\nhorse, and dressed his shield, and took a spear, and they met so hard\neither in other\u2019s shields that they all to-shivered their spears.\nTherewith Arthur anon pulled out his sword. Nay, not so, said the\nknight, it is fairer that we twain run more together with sharp spears.\nI will well, said Arthur, and I had any more spears. I have enow, said\nthe knight. So there came a squire, and brought two good spears, and\nArthur chose one and he another, so they spurred their horses, and came\ntogether with all their mights, that either brake their spears to their\nhands. Then Arthur set hand on his sword. Nay, said the knight, ye\nshall do better; ye are a passing good juster as ever I met withal, and\nonce for the love of the high order of knighthood let us just once\nagain. I assent me, said Arthur. Anon there were brought two great\nspears, and every knight gat a spear, and therewith they ran together\nthat Arthur\u2019s spear all to-shivered. But the other knight hit him so\nhard in midst of the shield that horse and man fell to the earth, and\ntherewith Arthur was eager, and pulled out his sword, and said, I will\nassay thee, Sir knight, on foot, for I have lost the honour on\nhorseback. I will be on horseback, said the knight. Then was Arthur\nwroth, and dressed his shield towards him with his sword drawn. When\nthe knight saw that, he alight, for him thought no worship to have a\nknight at such avail, he to be on horseback, and he on foot, and so he\nalight and dressed his shield unto Arthur. And there began a strong\nbattle with many great strokes, and so hewed with their swords that the\ncantels flew in the fields, and much blood they bled both, that all the\nplace there as they fought was over-bled with blood, and thus they\nfought long, and rested them, and then they went to the battle again,\nand so hurtled together like two rams that either fell to the earth. So\nat the last they smote together, that both their swords met even\ntogether. But the sword of the knight smote king Arthur\u2019s sword in two\npieces, wherefore he was heavy. Then said the knight unto Arthur, Thou\nart in my danger whether me list to save thee or slay thee, and but\nthou yield thee as overcome and recreant thou shalt die. As for death,\nsaid king Arthur, welcome be it when it cometh; but to yield me unto\nthee as recreant I had lever die than to be so shamed. And therewithal\nthe king leapt unto Pellinore, and took him by the middle, and threw\nhim down, and rased off his helmet. When the knight felt that he was\nadread, for he was a passing big man of might, and anon he brought\nArthur under him, and rased off his helm, and would have smitten off\nhis head.\n\n\n CHAP. XXII.\n\n_How Merlin saved Arthur\u2019s life, and threw an enchantment upon king\n Pellinore, and made him to sleep._\n\nTherewithal came Merlin, and said, Knight, hold thy hand, for and thou\nslay that knight thou puttest this realm in the greatest damage that\never was realm: for this knight is a man of more worship than thou\nwotest of. Why, who is he? said the knight. It is king Arthur. Then\nwould he have slain him for dread of his wrath, and heaved up his\nsword, and therewith Merlin cast an enchantment to the knight, that he\nfell to the earth in a great sleep. Then Merlin took up king Arthur,\nand rode forth on the knight\u2019s horse. Alas, said Arthur, what hast thou\ndone, Merlin? hast thou slain this good knight by thy crafts? There\nlived not so worshipful a knight as he was; I had lever than the stint\nof my land a year that he were onlive. Care ye not, said Merlin, for he\nis wholer than ye, for he is but on sleep, and will awake within three\nhours. I told you, said Merlin, what a knight he was; here had ye be\nslain had I not been. Also there liveth not a bigger knight than he is\none, and he shall hereafter do you right good service, and his name is\nPellinore, and he shall have two sons that shall be passing good men;\nsave one, they shall have no fellow of prowess and of good living; and\ntheir names shall be Percivale of Wales and Lamerake of Wales: and he\nshall tell you the name of your sister\u2019s son that shall be the\ndestruction of all this realm.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIII.\n\n_How Arthur by the mean of Merlin gat Excalibur his sword of the Lady\n of the lake._\n\nRight so the king and he departed, and went until an hermit that was a\ngood man and a great leach. So the hermit searched all his wounds and\ngave him good salves; so the king was there three days, and then were\nhis wounds well amended that he might ride and go, and so departed. And\nas they rode, Arthur said, I have no sword. No force, said Merlin,\nhereby is a sword that shall be yours and I may. So they rode till they\ncame to a lake, the which was a fair water and broad, and in the midst\nof the lake Arthur was ware of an arm clothed in white samite, that\nheld a fair sword in that hand. Lo, said Merlin, yonder is that sword\nthat I spake of. With that they saw a damsel going upon the lake: What\ndamsel is that? said Arthur. That is the Lady of the lake, said Merlin;\nand within that lake is a rock, and therein is as fair a place as any\non earth, and richly beseen, and this damsel will come to you anon, and\nthen speak ye fair to her that she will give you that sword. Anon\nwithal came the damsel unto Arthur and saluted him, and he her again.\nDamsel, said Arthur, what sword is that, that yonder the arm holdeth\nabove the water? I would it were mine, for I have no sword. Sir Arthur\nking, said the damsel, that sword is mine, and if ye will give me a\ngift when I ask it you, ye shall have it. By my faith, said Arthur, I\nwill give you what gift ye will ask. Well, said the damsel, go ye into\nyonder barge and row yourself to the sword, and take it and the\nscabbard with you, and I will ask my gift when I see my time. So Sir\nArthur and Merlin alight, and tied their horses to two trees, and so\nthey went into the ship, and when they came to the sword that the hand\nheld, Sir Arthur took it up by the handles, and took it with him. And\nthe arm and the hand went under the water; and so they came unto the\nland and rode forth. And then Sir Arthur saw a rich pavilion: What\nsignifieth yonder pavilion? It is the knight\u2019s pavilion, said Merlin,\nthat ye fought with last, Sir Pellinore, but he is out, he is not\nthere; he hath ado with a knight of yours, that hight Egglame, and they\nhave fought together, but at the last Egglame fled, and else he had\nbeen dead, and he hath chased him even to Carlion, and we shall meet\nwith him anon in the high way. That is well said, said Arthur, now have\nI a sword, now will I wage battle with him and be avenged on him. Sir,\nye shall not so, said Merlin, for the knight is weary of fighting and\nchasing, so that ye shall have no worship to have ado with him; also he\nwill not lightly be matched of one knight living; and therefore it is\nmy counsel, let him pass, for he shall do you good service in short\ntime, and his sons after his days. Also ye shall see that day in short\nspace, ye shall be right glad to give him your sister to wed. When I\nsee him, I will do as ye advise me, said Arthur. Then Sir Arthur looked\non the sword, and liked it passing well. Whether liketh you better,\nsaid Merlin, the sword or the scabbard? Me liketh better the sword,\nsaid Arthur. Ye are more unwise, said Merlin, for the scabbard is worth\nten of the sword, for while ye have the scabbard upon you ye shall\nnever lose no blood, be ye never so sore wounded, therefore keep well\nthe scabbard always with you. So they rode unto Carlion, and by the way\nthey met with Sir Pellinore; but Merlin had done such a craft that\nPellinore saw not Arthur, and he passed by without any words. I marvel,\nsaid Arthur, that the knight would not speak. Sir, said Merlin, he saw\nyou not, for and he had seen you ye had not lightly departed. So they\ncame unto Carlion, whereof his knights were passing glad. And when they\nheard of his adventures they marvelled that he would jeopard his person\nso alone. But all men of worship said it was merry to be under such a\nchieftain that would put his person in adventure as other poor knights\ndid.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIV.\n\n_How tidings came to Arthur that king Ryons had overcome eleven kings,\n and how he desired Arthur\u2019s beard to trim his mantle._\n\nThis meanwhile came a messager from king Ryons of North Wales, and king\nhe was of all Ireland, and of many Isles. And this was his message,\ngreeting well king Arthur in this manner wise, saying that king Ryons\nhad discomfited and overcome eleven kings, and every each of them did\nhim homage, and that was this\u2014they gave him their beards clean flayed\noff, as much as there was; wherefore the messager came for king\nArthur\u2019s beard. For king Ryons had trimmed a mantle with kings\u2019 beards,\nand there lacked one place of the mantle, wherefore he sent for his\nbeard, or else he would enter into his lands, and burn and slay, and\nnever leave till he have the head and the beard. Well, said Arthur,\nthou hast said thy message, the which is the most villainous and\nlewdest message that ever man heard sent unto a king: also thou mayest\nsee my beard is full young yet to make a trimming of it. But tell thou\nthy king this: I owe him none homage, nor none of mine elders; but or\nit be long he shall do me homage on both his knees, or else he shall\nlose his head, by the faith of my body, for this is the most\nshamefulest message that ever I heard speak of. I see well thy king met\nnever yet with worshipful man, but tell him I will have his head\nwithout he do me homage. Then the messager departed. Now is there any\nhere, said Arthur, that knoweth king Ryons? Then answered a knight that\nhight Naram, Sir, I know the king well; he is a passing good man of his\nbody as few be living, and a passing proud man; and, Sir, doubt ye not\nhe will make war on you with a mighty puissance. Well, said Arthur, I\nshall ordain for him in short time.\n\n\n CHAP. XXV.\n\n_How all the children were sent for that were born on May-day, and how\n Mordred was saved._\n\nThen king Arthur let send for all the children born on May-day of lords\nand ladies, for Merlin told king Arthur that he that should destroy him\nshould be born on May-day, wherefore he sent for them all upon pain of\ndeath. And so there were found many lords\u2019 sons, and all were sent unto\nthe king, and so was Mordred sent by king Lot\u2019s wife, and all were put\nin a ship to the sea, and some were four weeks old, and some less. And\nso by fortune the ship drove unto a castle, and was all to-riven, and\ndestroyed the most part, save that Mordred was cast up, and a good man\nfound him, and nourished him till he was fourteen year old, and then he\nbrought him to the court, as it rehearseth afterward toward the end of\nthe Death of Arthur. So many lords and barons of this realm were\ndispleased, for their children were so lost, and many put the blame on\nMerlin more than on Arthur; so what for dread and for love they held\ntheir peace. But when the messager came to king Ryons then was he wood\nout of measure, and purveyed him for a great host, as it rehearseth\nafter in the book of Balin le Savage that followeth next after, how by\nadventure Balin gat the sword.\n\n Explicit liber primus. Incipit liber secundus.\n\n\n\n\n Book the Second.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_Of a damsel which came girt with a sword for to find a man of such\n virtue to draw it out of the scabbard._\n\nAfter the death of Uther Pendragon reigned Arthur his son, the which\nhad great war in his days for to get all England into his hand. For\nthere were many kings within the realm of England, and in Wales,\nScotland, and Cornwall. So it befel on a time when king Arthur was at\nLondon, there came a knight and told the king tidings how that the king\nRyons of North Wales had reared a great number of people, and were\nentered into the land, and burnt and slew the king\u2019s true liege people.\nIf this be true, said Arthur, it were great shame unto mine estate but\nthat he were mightily withstood. It is truth, said the knight, for I\nsaw the host myself. Well, said the king, let make a cry, that all the\nlords, knights, and gentlemen of arms, should draw unto a castle,\ncalled Camelot in those days, and there the king would let make a\ncouncil general, and a great justs.\n\nSo when the king was come thither with all his baronage, and lodged as\nthey seemed best, there was come a damsel the which was sent on message\nfrom the great lady Lile of Avelion. And when she came before king\nArthur, she told from whom she came, and how she was sent on message\nunto him for these causes. Then she let her mantle fall that was richly\nfurred; and then was she girt with a noble sword, whereof the king had\nmarvel, and said, Damsel, for what cause are ye girt with that sword?\nit beseemeth you not. Now shall I tell you, said the damsel: this sword\nthat I am girt withal doth me great sorrow and cumberance, for I may\nnot be delivered of this sword but by a knight, but he must be a\npassing good man of his hands and of his deeds, and without villainy or\ntreachery, and without treason. And if I may find such a knight that\nhath all these virtues, he may draw out this sword out of the sheath.\nFor I have been at king Ryons\u2019; it was told me there were passing good\nknights, and he and all his knights have assayed it, and none can\nspeed. This is a great marvel, said Arthur; if this be sooth, I will\nmyself assay to draw out the sword, not presuming upon myself that I am\nthe best knight, but that I will begin to draw at your sword in giving\nexample to all the barons, that they shall assay every one after other\nwhen I have assayed it. Then Arthur took the sword by the sheath and by\nthe girdle, and pulled at it eagerly, but the sword would not out. Sir,\nsaid the damsel, ye need not to pull half so hard, for he that shall\npull it out, shall do it with little might. Ye say well, said Arthur:\nnow assay ye, all my barons, but beware ye be not defiled with shame,\ntreachery, nor guile. Then it will not avail, said the damsel, for he\nmust be a clean knight without villainy, and of a gentle stock of\nfather side and mother side. Most of all the barons of the Round Table\nthat were there at that time assayed all by row, but there might none\nspeed; wherefore the damsel made great sorrow out of measure, and said,\nAlas! I wend in this court had been the best knights, without treachery\nor treason. By my faith, saith Arthur, here are good knights as I deem\nany been in the world, but their grace is not to help you, wherefore I\nam displeased.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How Balin, arrayed like a poor knight, pulled out the sword, which\n afterward was cause of his death._\n\nThen fell it so that time there was a poor knight with king Arthur,\nthat had been prisoner with him half a year and more, for slaying of a\nknight the which was cousin unto king Arthur. The name of this knight\nwas called Balin, and by good means of the barons he was delivered out\nof prison, for he was a good man named of his body, and he was born in\nNorthumberland. And so he went privily into the court, and saw this\nadventure, whereof it raised his heart, and he would assay it as other\nknights did, but for he was poor and poorly arrayed he put him not far\nin press; but in his heart he was fully assured to do as well, if his\ngrace happed him, as any knight that there was. And as the damsel took\nher leave of Arthur and of all the barons, so departing, this knight\nBalin called unto her and said, Damsel, I pray you of your courtesy\nsuffer me as well to assay as these lords; though that I be so poorly\nclothed, in mine heart me seemeth I am fully assured as some of these\nother, and me seemeth in my heart to speed right well. The damsel\nbeheld the poor knight, and saw he was a likely man, but for of his\npoor arrayment she thought he should be of no worship without villainy\nor treachery. And then she said unto the knight, Sir, it needeth not to\nput me to more pain or labour, for it seemeth not you to speed there as\nother have failed. Ah, fair damsel, said Balin, worthiness and good\nqualities and good deeds are not all only in arrayment, but manhood and\nworship is hid within man\u2019s person, and many a worshipful knight is not\nknown unto all people, and therefore worship and hardiness is not in\narrayment. Ye say sooth, said the damsel, therefore ye shall assay to\ndo what ye may. Then Balin took the sword by the girdle and sheath and\ndrew it out easily, and when he looked on the sword it pleased him\nmuch. Then had the king and all the barons great marvel that Balin had\ndone that adventure, and many knights had great despite of Balin.\nCertes, said the damsel, this is a passing good knight, and the best\nthat ever I found, and most of worship without treason, treachery, or\nvillainy, and many marvels shall he do. Now, gentle and courteous\nknight, give me the sword again. Nay, said Balin, for this sword will I\nkeep, but it be taken from me by force. Well, said the damsel, ye are\nnot wise to keep the sword from me, for ye shall slay with the sword\nthe best friend that ye have, and the man that ye most love in the\nworld, and the sword shall be your destruction. I shall take the\nadventure, said Balin, that God will ordain me, but the sword ye shall\nnot have at this time, by the faith of my body. Ye shall repent it\nwithin short time, said the damsel, for I would have the sword more for\nyour avail than for mine, for I am passing heavy for your sake; for ye\nwill not believe that sword shall be your destruction, and that is\ngreat pity. With that the damsel departed, making great sorrow.\n\nAnon after Balin sent for his horse and his armour, and so would depart\nfrom the court, and took his leave of king Arthur. Nay, said the king,\nI suppose ye will not depart so lightly from this fellowship. I suppose\nthat ye are displeased that I have shewed you unkindness; blame me the\nless, for I was misinformed against you, but I wend you had not been\nsuch a knight as ye are of worship and prowess, and if ye will abide in\nthis court among my fellowship, I shall so advance you as ye shall be\npleased. God thank your highness, said Balin, for your bounty and\nhighness may no man praise half to the value; but at this time I must\nneeds depart, beseeching you alway of your good grace. Truly, said the\nking, I am right wroth for your departing: I pray you, fair knight,\nthat ye tarry not long, and ye shall be right welcome to me and to my\nbarons, and I shall amend all amiss that I have done against you. God\nthank your great lordship, said Balin, and therewith made him ready to\ndepart. Then the most part of the knights of the Round Table said that\nBalin did not this adventure all only by might, but by witchcraft.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How the Lady of the lake demanded the knight\u2019s head that had won the\n sword, or the maiden\u2019s head._\n\nThe meanwhile that this knight was making him ready to depart, there\ncame into the court a lady that hight the Lady of the lake. And she\ncame on horseback, richly beseen, and saluted king Arthur; and there\nasked him a gift that he promised her when she gave him the sword. That\nis sooth, said Arthur, a gift I promised you, but I have forgotten the\nname of my sword that ye gave me. The name of it, said the lady, is\nExcalibur, that is as much to say as Cut-steel. Ye say well, said the\nking, ask what ye will and ye shall have it, and it lie in my power to\ngive it. Well, said the lady, I ask the head of the knight that hath\nwon the sword, or else the damsel\u2019s head that brought it; I take no\nforce though I have both their heads, for he slew my brother, a good\nknight and a true, and that gentlewoman was causer of my father\u2019s\ndeath. Truly, said king Arthur, I may not grant neither of their heads\nwith my worship, therefore ask what ye will else, and I shall fulfil\nyour desire. I will ask none other thing, said the lady. When Balin was\nready to depart he saw the Lady of the lake that by her means had slain\nBalin\u2019s mother, and he had sought her three years, and when it was told\nhim that she asked his head of king Arthur he went to her straight and\nsaid, Evil be you found, ye would have my head and therefore ye shall\nlose yours. And with his sword lightly he smote off her head before\nking Arthur. Alas! for shame, said Arthur, why have you done so? ye\nhave shamed me and all my court, for this was a lady that I was\nbeholden to, and hither she came under my safe conduct; I shall never\nforgive you that trespass. Sir, said Balin, me forthinketh of your\ndispleasure, for this same lady was the untruest lady living, and by\nenchantment and sorcery she hath been the destroyer of many good\nknights, and she was causer that my mother was burnt through her\nfalsehood and treachery. What cause so ever ye had, said Arthur, ye\nshould have forborne her in my presence; therefore, think not the\ncontrary, ye shall repent it, for such another despite had I never in\nmy court: therefore withdraw you out of my court in all haste that ye\nmay. Then Balin took up the head of the lady, and bare it with him to\nhis hostry, and there he met with his squire, that was sorry he had\ndispleased king Arthur, and so they rode forth out of the town. Now,\nsaid Balin, we must part; take thou this head and bear it to my\nfriends, and tell them how I have sped, and tell my friends in\nNorthumberland that my most foe is dead. Also tell them how I am out of\nprison, and also what adventure befel me at the getting of this sword.\nAlas, said the squire, ye are greatly to blame for to displease king\nArthur. As for that, said Balin, I will hie me in all the haste that I\nmay, to meet with king Ryons and destroy him, or else to die therefore;\nand if it may hap me to win him, then will king Arthur be my good and\ngracious lord. Where shall I meet with you? said the squire. In king\nArthur\u2019s court, said Balin. So his squire and he departed at that time.\nThen king Arthur and all the court made great dole, and had shame of\nthe death of the Lady of the lake. Then the king buried her richly.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How Merlin told the adventure of this damsel._\n\nAt that time there was a knight the which was the king\u2019s son of\nIreland, and his name was Lanceor, the which was an orgulous knight,\nand counted himself one of the best of the court, and he had great\ndespite at Balin for the achieving of the sword, that any should be\naccounted more hardy, or of more prowess; and he asked king Arthur if\nhe would give him leave to ride after Balin, and to revenge the despite\nthat he had done. Do your best, said Arthur, I am right wroth with\nBalin, I would he were quit of the despite that he hath done to me and\nto my court. Then this Lanceor went to his hostry to make him ready. In\nthe meanwhile came Merlin unto the court of king Arthur, and there was\ntold him the adventure of the sword, and the death of the Lady of the\nlake. Now shall I say you, said Merlin, this same damsel that here\nstandeth, that brought the sword unto your court, I shall tell you the\ncause of her coming,\u2014she was the falsest damsel that liveth. Say not\nso, said they. She hath a brother, a passing good knight of prowess and\na full true man, and this damsel loved another knight that held her to\nparamour, and this good knight her brother met with the knight that\nheld her to paramour, and slew him by force of his hands. When this\nfalse damsel understood this she went to the lady Lile of Avelion, and\nbesought her of help, to be avenged on her own brother. And so this\nlady Lile of Avelion took her this sword, that she brought with her,\nand told there should no man pull it out of the sheath but if he be one\nof the best knights of this realm, and he should be hardy and full of\nprowess, and with that sword he should slay her brother. This was the\ncause that the damsel came into this court. I know it as well as ye.\nWould she had not come into this court, but she came never in\nfellowship of worship to do good, but alway great harm. And that knight\nthat hath achieved the sword shall be destroyed by that sword, for the\nwhich will be great damage, for there liveth not a knight of more\nprowess than he is, and he shall do unto you, my lord Arthur, great\nhonour and kindness, and it is great pity he shall not endure but a\nwhile, for of his strength and hardiness I know not his match living.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How Balin was pursued by Sir Lanceor, knight of Ireland, and how he\n justed and slew him._\n\nSo the knight of Ireland armed him at all points, and dressed his\nshield on his shoulder, and mounted upon horseback, and took his spear\nin his hand, and rode after a great pace as much as his horse might go,\nand within a little space on a mountain he had a sight of Balin, and\nwith a loud voice he cried, Abide knight, for ye shall abide whether ye\nwill or nill, and the shield that is tofore you shall not help. When\nBalin heard the noise he turned his horse fiercely, and said, Fair\nknight what will ye with me, will ye just with me? Yea, said the Irish\nknight, therefore come I after you. Peradventure, said Balin, it had\nbeen better to have holden you at home, for many a man weneth to put\nhis enemy to a rebuke, and oft it falleth to himself. Of what court be\nye sent from? said Balin. I am come from the court of king Arthur, said\nthe knight of Ireland, that come hither for to revenge the despite ye\ndid this day to king Arthur and to his court. Well, said Balin, I see\nwell I must have ado with you, that me forthinketh for to grieve king\nArthur, or any of his court; and your quarrel is full simple, said\nBalin, unto me, for the lady that is dead did me great damage, and else\nwould I have been loth as any knight that liveth for to slay a lady.\nMake you ready, said the knight Lanceor, and dress you unto me, for\nthat one shall abide in the field. Then they took their spears, and\ncame together as much as their horses might drive, and the Irish knight\nsmote Balin on the shield, that all went shivers of his spear, and\nBalin hit him through the shield, and the hauberk perished, and so\npierced through his body and the horse croup, and anon turned his horse\nfiercely and drew out his sword, and wist not that he had slain him,\nand then he saw him lie as a dead corpse.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How a damsel, which was love to Lanceor, slew herself for love; and\n how Balin met with his brother Balan._\n\nThen he looked by him, and was ware of a damsel that came riding full\nfast as the horse might ride, on a fair palfrey. And when she espied\nthat Lanceor was slain she made sorrow out of measure, and said, O\nBalin, two bodies thou hast slain and one heart, and two hearts in one\nbody, and two souls thou hast lost. And therewith she took the sword\nfrom her love that lay dead, and fell to the ground in a swoon. And\nwhen she arose she made great dole out of measure, the which sorrow\ngrieved Balin passingly sore, and he went unto her for to have taken\nthe sword out of her hand, but she held it so fast he might not take it\nout of her hand unless he should have hurt her, and suddenly she set\nthe pommel to the ground, and rove herself through the body. When Balin\nespied her deeds, he was passing heavy in his heart, and ashamed that\nso fair a damsel had destroyed herself for the love of his death. Alas,\nsaid Balin, me repenteth sore the death of this knight for the love of\nthis damsel, for there was much true love betwixt them both. And for\nsorrow he might no longer hold him, but turned his horse and looked\ntowards a great forest, and there he was ware, by the arms, of his\nbrother Balan. And when they were met they put off their helms and\nkissed together, and wept for joy and pity. Then Balan said, I little\nwend to have met with you at this sudden adventure; I am right glad of\nyour deliverance out of your dolorous prisonment, for a man told me in\nthe castle of Four Stones that ye were delivered, and that man had seen\nyou in the court of king Arthur, and therefore I came hither into this\ncountry, for here I supposed to find you. Anon the knight Balin told\nhis brother of his adventure of the sword, and of the death of the Lady\nof the lake, and how king Arthur was displeased with him: Wherefore he\nsent this knight after me that lieth here dead; and the death of this\ndamsel grieveth me sore. So doth it me, said Balan, but ye must take\nthe adventure that God will ordain you. Truly, said Balin, I am right\nheavy that my lord Arthur is displeased with me, for he is the most\nworshipful knight that reigneth now on earth, and his love I will get\nor else I will put my life in adventure; for the king Ryons lieth at a\nsiege at the castle Terrabil, and thither will we draw in all haste, to\nprove our worship and prowess upon him. I will well, said Balan, that\nwe do, and we will help each other as brethren ought to do.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How a dwarf reproved Balin for the death of Lanceor, and how king Mark\n of Cornwall found them, and made a tomb over them._\n\nNow go we hence, said Balin, and well be we met. The meanwhile as they\ntalked there came a dwarf from the city of Camelot on horseback, as\nmuch as he might, and found the dead bodies, wherefore he made great\ndole, and pulled out his hair for sorrow, and said, Which of you\nknights have done this deed? Whereby askest thou it, said Balan. For I\nwould wit it, said the dwarf. It was I, said Balin, that slew this\nknight in my defence, for hither came he to chase me, and either I must\nslay him or he me; and this damsel slew herself for his love, which\nrepenteth me, and for her sake I shall owe all women the better love.\nAlas, said the dwarf, thou hast done great damage unto thyself, for\nthis knight that is here dead was one of the most valiantest men that\nlived, and trust well, Balin, the kin of this knight will chase you\nthrough the world till they have slain you. As for that, said Balin, I\nfear not greatly, but I am right heavy that I have displeased my lord\nking Arthur for the death of this knight. So as they talked together\nthere came a king of Cornwall riding, the which hight king Mark. And\nwhen he saw these two bodies dead, and understood how they were dead by\nthe two knights above said, then made the king great sorrow for the\ntrue love that was betwixt them, and said, I will not depart till I\nhave on this earth made a tomb. And there he pight his pavilions, and\nsought through all the country to find a tomb, and in a church they\nfound one was fair and rich, and then the king let put them both in the\nearth, and put the tomb upon them, and wrote the names of them both on\nthe tomb:\u2014How here lieth Lanceor the king\u2019s son of Ireland that at his\nown request was slain by the hands of Balin, and how his lady Colombe\nslew herself with her love\u2019s sword for dole and sorrow.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How Merlin prophesied that two the best knights of the world should\n fight there, which were Sir Lancelot and Sir Tristram._\n\nThe meanwhile as this was adoing, in came Merlin to king Mark, and\nseeing all his doing said, Here shall be in this same place the\ngreatest battle betwixt two knights that was or ever shall be, and the\ntruest lovers, and yet none of them shall slay other. And there Merlin\nwrote their names upon the tomb with letters of gold that should fight\nin that place, whose names were Launcelot de Lake, and Tristram. Thou\nart a marvellous man, said king Mark unto Merlin, that speakest of such\nmarvels, thou art a rude man and an unlikely to tell of such deeds;\nwhat is thy name? said king Mark. At this time, said Merlin, I will not\ntell, but at that time when Sir Tristram is taken with his sovereign\nlady, then ye shall hear and know my name, and at that time ye shall\nhear tidings that shall not please you. Then said Merlin to Balin, Thou\nhast done thyself great hurt, because thou savedst not this lady that\nslew herself, that might have saved her and thou wouldest. By the faith\nof my body, said Balin, I might not save her, for she slew herself\nsuddenly. Me repenteth, said Merlin, because of the death of that lady\nthou shalt strike a stroke the most dolorous that ever man struck,\nexcept the stroke of our Lord, for thou shalt hurt the truest knight\nand the man of most worship that now liveth, and through that stroke\nthree kingdoms shall be in great poverty, misery, and wretchedness,\ntwelve year, and the knight shall not be whole of that wound many\nyears. Then Merlin took his leave of Balin. And Balin said, If I wist\nit were sooth that ye say, I should do such a perilous deed as that I\nwould slay myself to make thee a liar. Therewith Merlin vanished away\nsuddenly. And then Balin and his brother took their leave of king Mark.\nFirst, said the king, tell me your name. Sir, said Balan, ye may see he\nbeareth two swords, thereby ye may call him the knight with the two\nswords. And so departed king Mark unto Camelot to king Arthur, and\nBalin took the way to king Ryons: and as they rode together they met\nwith Merlin disguised, but they knew him not. Whither ride you? said\nMerlin. We have little to do, said the two knights, to tell thee: But\nwhat is thy name? said Balin. At this time, said Merlin, I will not\ntell it thee. It is evil seen, said the two knights, that thou art a\ntrue man that thou wilt not tell thy name. As for that, said Merlin, be\nit as it be may, I can tell you wherefore ye ride this way, for to meet\nking Ryons, but it will not avail you without ye have my counsel. Ah,\nsaid Balin, ye are Merlin: we will be ruled by your counsel. Come on,\nsaid Merlin, ye shall have great worship, and look that ye do knightly,\nfor ye shall have great need. As for that, said Balin, dread you not,\nwe will do what we may.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How Balin and his brother by the counsel of Merlin took king Ryons,\n and brought him to king Arthur._\n\nThen Merlin lodged them in a wood among leaves beside the highway, and\ntook off the bridles of their horses and put them to grass, and laid\nthem down to rest them till it was nigh midnight. Then Merlin bad them\nrise and make them ready, for the king was nigh them, that was stolen\naway from his host with a threescore horses of his best knights, and\ntwenty of them rode tofore, to warn the lady De Vance that the king was\ncoming. Which is the king? said Balin. Abide, said Merlin, here in a\nstraight way ye shall meet with him; and therewith he shewed Balin and\nhis brother where he rode. Anon Balin and his brother met with the\nking, and smote him down, and wounded him fiercely, and laid him to the\nground, and there they slew on the right hand and the left hand, and\nslew more than forty of his men; and the remnant fled. Then went they\nagain to king Ryons, and would have slain him had he not yielded him\nunto their grace. Then said he thus: Knights full of prowess, slay me\nnot, for by my life ye may win, and by my death ye shall win nothing.\nThen said these two knights, Ye say sooth and truth; and so laid him on\nan horse-litter. With that Merlin was vanished, and came to king\nArthur, aforehand, and told him how his most enemy was taken and\ndiscomfited. By whom? said king Arthur. By two knights, said Merlin,\nthat would please your lordship, and to-morrow ye shall know what\nknights they are. Anon after came the knight with the two swords, and\nBalan his brother, and brought with them king Ryons of North Wales, and\nthere delivered him to the porters, and charged them with him; and so\nthey two returned again in the dawning of the day. King Arthur came\nthen to king Ryons and said, Sir king ye are welcome: by what adventure\ncome ye hither? Sir, said king Ryons, I came hither by an hard\nadventure. Who won you? said king Arthur. Sir, said the king, the\nknight with the two swords and his brother, which are two marvellous\nknights of prowess. I know them not, said Arthur, but much I am\nbeholden to them. Ah, said Merlin, I shall tell you, it is Balin that\nachieved the sword, and his brother Balan, a good knight, there liveth\nnot a better of prowess, and of worthiness; and it shall be the\ngreatest dole of him that ever I knew of knight, for he shall not long\nendure. Alas, said king Arthur, that is great pity, for I am much\nbeholden unto him, and I have ill deserved it unto him for his\nkindness. Nay, said Merlin, he shall do much more for you, and that\nshall ye know in haste. But, Sir, are ye purveyed? said Merlin; for\nto-morn the host of Nero, king Ryons\u2019s brother, will set on you or noon\nwith a great host, and therefore make you ready, for I will depart from\nyou.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How king Arthur had a battle against Nero and king Lot of Orkney, and\n how king Lot was deceived by Merlin, and how twelve kings were slain._\n\nThen king Arthur made ready his host in ten battles, and Nero was ready\nin the field afore the castle Terrabil with a great host, for he had\nten battles, with many more people than Arthur had. Then Nero had the\nvaward with the most party of his people: and Merlin came to king Lot\nof the Isle of Orkney, and held him with a tale of prophecy till Nero\nand his people were destroyed. And there Sir Kay the seneschal did\npassingly well, that the days of his life the worship went never from\nhim. And Sir Hervis de Revel did marvellous deeds with king Arthur, and\nking Arthur slew that day twenty knights and maimed forty. At that time\ncame in the knight with the two swords, and his brother Balan, but they\ntwo did so marvellously that the king and all the knights marvelled of\nthem, and all they that beheld them said they were sent from heaven as\nangels, or devils from hell: and king Arthur said himself they were the\nbest knights that ever he saw, for they gave such strokes that all men\nhad wonder of them. In the meanwhile came one to king Lot, and told him\nwhile he tarried there Nero was destroyed and slain with all his\npeople. Alas, said king Lot, I am ashamed, for by my default there is\nmany a worshipful man slain, for and we had been together there had\nbeen none host under the heaven that had been able for to have matched\nwith us: this deceiver with his prophecy hath mocked me. All that did\nMerlin, for he knew well that if king Lot had been with his body there\nat the first battle, king Arthur had been slain and all his people\ndestroyed. And well Merlin knew that one of the kings should be dead\nthat day; and loth was Merlin that any of them both should be slain,\nbut of the twain he had lever king Lot had been slain than king Arthur.\n\nNow what is best to do? said king Lot of Orkney, whether is me better\nto treat with king Arthur or to fight, for the greater part of our\npeople are slain and destroyed. Sir, said a knight, set on Arthur, for\nthey are weary and for-foughten, and we be fresh. As for me, said king\nLot, I would that every knight would do his part as I would do mine.\nAnd then they advanced banners and smote together, and all to-shivered\ntheir spears; and Arthur\u2019s knights, with the help of the knight with\nthe two swords and his brother Balan, put king Lot and his host to the\nworse. But alway king Lot held him in the foremost front, and did\nmarvellous deeds of arms, for all his host was borne up by his hands,\nfor he abode all knights. Alas, he might not endure, the which was\ngreat pity, that so worthy a knight as he was should be overmatched,\nthat of late time afore had been a knight of king Arthur\u2019s, and wedded\nthe sister of king Arthur, and for the wrong king Arthur did him\ntherefore king Lot held against Arthur. So there was a knight that was\ncalled the knight with the strange beast, and at that time his right\nname was called Pellinore, the which was a good man of prowess, and he\nsmote a mighty stroke at king Lot as he fought with all his enemies,\nand he failed of his stroke, and he smote the horse\u2019s neck, that he\nfell to the ground with king Lot; and therewith anon Sir Pellinore\nsmote him a great stroke through the helm and head unto the brows. And\nthen all the host of Orkney fled for the death of king Lot; and there\nwere slain many mothers\u2019 sons. But king Pellinore bare the blame of the\ndeath of king Lot, wherefore Sir Gawaine revenged the death of his\nfather the tenth year after he was made knight, and slew king Pellinore\nwith his own hands. Also there were slain at that battle twelve kings\non the side of king Lot with Nero, and all were buried in the church of\nSaint Stephen\u2019s, in Camelot; and the remnant of knights and of other\nwere buried in a great rock.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_Of the interment of twelve kings, and of the prophecy of Merlin, and\n how Balin should give the dolorous stroke._\n\nSo at the interment came king Lot\u2019s wife Morgause, with her four sons,\nGawaine, Agravaine, Gaheris, and Gareth. Also there came thither king\nUriens, Sir Ewaine\u2019s father, and Morgan le Fay his wife, that was king\nArthur\u2019s sister. All these came to the interment. But of all these\ntwelve kings king Arthur let make the tomb of king Lot passing richly,\nand made his tomb by his own; and then king Arthur let make twelve\nimages of laton and copper, and over-gilt it with gold, in the sign of\ntwelve kings, and each one of them held a taper of wax that burnt day\nand night: and king Arthur was made in sign of a figure standing above\nthem with a sword drawn in his hand: and all the twelve figures had\ncountenance like unto men that were overcome. All this made Merlin by\nhis subtil craft; and there he told the king, When I am dead these\ntapers shall burn no longer; and soon after the adventures of the\nSangreal shall come among you and be achieved. Also he told Arthur how\nBalin the worshipful knight shall give the dolorous stroke, whereof\nshall fall great vengeance. O where is Balin, and Balan, and Pellinore?\nsaid king Arthur. As for Pellinore, said Merlin, he will meet with you\nsoon: and as for Balin, he will not be long from you: but the other\nbrother will depart; ye shall see him no more. By my faith, said\nArthur, they are two marvellous knights, and namely Balin passeth of\nprowess of any knight that ever I found, for much beholden am I unto\nhim; would that he would abide with me. Sir, said Merlin, look ye keep\nwell the scabbard of Excalibur, for ye shall lose no blood while ye\nhave the scabbard upon you, though ye have as many wounds upon you as\nye may have. So after, for great trust Arthur betook the scabbard to\nMorgan le Fay his sister, and she loved another knight better than her\nhusband king Uriens or king Arthur, and she would have had Arthur her\nbrother slain, and therefore she let make another scabbard like it by\nenchantment, and gave the scabbard of Excalibur to her love. And the\nknight\u2019s name was called Accolon, that after had near slain king\nArthur. After this Merlin told unto king Arthur of the prophecy that\nthere should be a great battle beside Salisbury, and that Mordred his\nsister\u2019s son should be against him. Also he told him that Basdemegus\nwas his cousin, and germain unto king Uriens.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How a sorrowful knight came tofore king Arthur, and how Balin fetched\n him, and how that knight was slain by a knight invisible._\n\nWithin a day or two king Arthur was somewhat sick, and he let pitch his\npavilion in a meadow, and there he laid him down on a pallet to sleep,\nbut he might have no rest. Right so he heard a great noise of an horse,\nand therewith the king looked out at the porch of the pavilion, and saw\na knight coming even by him making great dole. Abide, fair sir, said\nArthur, and tell me wherefore thou makest this sorrow? Ye may little\namend me, said the knight, and so passed forth to the castle of Meliot.\nAnon after there came Balin, and when he saw king Arthur he alight off\nhis horse, and came to the king on foot, and saluted him. By my head,\nsaid Arthur, ye be welcome. Sir, right now came riding this way a\nknight making great mourn, for what cause I cannot tell, wherefore I\nwould desire of you of your courtesy and of your gentleness to fetch\nagain that knight either by force or else by his good-will. I will do\nmore for your lordship than that, said Balin: and so he rode more than\na pace, and found the knight with a damsel in a forest, and said, Sir\nknight, ye must come with me unto king Arthur, for to tell him of your\nsorrow. That will I not, said the knight, for it will scathe me\ngreatly, and do you none avail. Sir, said Balin, I pray you make you\nready, for ye must go with me, or else I must fight with you and bring\nyou by force, and that were me loth to do. Will ye be my warrant, said\nthe knight, and I go with you? Yea, said Balin, or else I will die\ntherefore. And so he made him ready to go with Balin, and left the\ndamsel still. And as they were even afore king Arthur\u2019s pavilion there\ncame one invisible, and smote this knight that went with Balin\nthroughout the body with a spear. Alas, said the knight, I am slain\nunder your conduct, with a knight called Garlon: therefore take my\nhorse, that is better than your\u2019s, and ride to the damsel, and follow\nthe quest that I was in as she will lead you, and revenge my death when\nye may. That shall I do, said Balin, and that I make a vow unto\nknighthood. And so he departed from this knight with great sorrow. So\nking Arthur let bury this knight richly, and made a mention on his tomb\nhow there was slain Herlews le Berbeus, and by whom the treachery was\ndone,\u2014the knight Garlon. But ever the damsel bare the truncheon of the\nspear with her that Sir Herlews was slain withal.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_How Balin and the damsel met with a knight which was in likewise\n slain, and how the damsel bled for the custom of a castle._\n\nSo Balin and the damsel rode into a forest, and there met with a knight\nthat had been on hunting, and that knight asked Balin for what cause he\nmade so great sorrow. Me list not to tell you, said Balin. Now, said\nthe knight, and I were armed as ye be I would fight with you. That\nshould little need, said Balin; I am not afeard to tell you; and told\nhim all the cause, how it was. Ah, said the knight, is this all: here I\nensure you by the faith of my body never to depart from you while my\nlife lasteth. And so they went to the hostry and armed them, and so\nrode forth with Balin. And as they came by an hermitage even by a\nchurchyard, there came the knight Garlon invisible, and smote this\nknight, Perin de Mountbeliard, through the body with a spear. Alas,\nsaid the knight, I am slain by this traitor knight that rideth\ninvisible. Alas, said Balin, it is not the first despite that he hath\ndone me. And there the hermit and Balin buried the knight under a rich\nstone, and a tomb royal. And on the morn they found letters of gold\nwritten, how Sir Gawaine shall revenge his father\u2019s death, king Lot, on\nthe king Pellinore. Anon after this Balin and the damsel rode till they\ncame to a castle, and there Balin alighted, and he and the damsel wend\nto go into the castle. And anon as Balin came within the castle gate\nthe portcullis fell down at his back, and there fell many men about the\ndamsel, and would have slain her. When Balin saw that, he was sore\ngrieved, for he might not help the damsel. And then he went up into the\ntower, and lept over the walls into the ditch, and hurt him not; and\nanon he pulled out his sword, and would have foughten with them. And\nthey all said nay, they would not fight with him, for they did nothing\nbut the old custom of the castle, and told him how their lady was sick,\nand had lain many years, and she might not be whole, but if she had a\ndish of silver full of blood of a maid and a king\u2019s daughter; and\ntherefore the custom of this castle is that there shall no damsel pass\nthis way, but that she shall bleed of her blood in a silver dish full.\nWell, said Balin, she shall bleed as much as she may bleed, but I will\nnot lose the life of her while my life lasteth. And so Balin made her\nto bleed by her good-will, but her blood helped not the lady. And so he\nand she rested there all night, and had there right good cheer, and on\nthe morn they passed on their ways. And as it telleth after in the\nSangreal, that Sir Percivale\u2019s sister helped that lady with her blood,\nwhereof she died.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How Balin met with that knight named Garlon at a feast, and there he\n slew him, to have his blood to heal therewith the son of his host._\n\nThen they rode three or four days and never met with adventure, and by\nhap they were lodged with a gentleman that was a rich man and well at\nease. And as they sat at their supper, Balin heard one complain\ngrievously by him in a chair. What is this noise? said Balin. Forsooth,\nsaid his host, I will tell you. I was but late at a justing, and there\nI justed with a knight that is brother unto king Pellam, and twice\nsmote I him down; and then he promised to quit me on my best friend,\nand so he wounded my son, that cannot be whole till I have of that\nknight\u2019s blood, and he rideth alway invisible, but I know not his name.\nAh, said Balin, I know that knight, his name is Garlon, he hath slain\ntwo knights of mine in the same manner, therefore I had rather meet\nwith that knight than all the gold in this realm, for the despite he\nhath done me. Well, said his host, I shall tell you, king Pellam of\nListeneise hath made cry in all this country a great feast that shall\nbe within these twenty days, and no knight may come there but if he\nbring his wife with him, or his love; and that knight, your enemy and\nmine, ye shall see that day. Then I promise you, said Balin, part of\nhis blood to heal your son withal. We will be forward to-morrow, said\nhis host. So on the morn they rode all three toward Pellam, and they\nhad fifteen days\u2019 journey or they came thither; and that same day began\nthe great feast. And so they alight and stabled their horses, and went\ninto the castle; but Balin\u2019s host might not be let in because he had no\nlady. Then Balin was well received, and brought unto a chamber and\nunarmed him, and they brought him robes to his pleasure, and would have\nhad Balin leave his sword behind him. Nay, said Balin, that do I not,\nfor it is the custom of my country a knight alway to keep his weapon\nwith him, and that custom will I keep, or else I will depart as I came.\nThen they gave him leave to wear his sword, and so he went unto the\ncastle, and was set among knights of worship, and his lady afore him.\nSoon Balin asked a knight, Is there not a knight in this court whose\nname is Garlon? Yonder he goeth, said a knight, he with the black face;\nhe is the marvellest knight that is now living, for he destroyeth many\ngood knights, for he goeth invisible. Ah, well, said Balin, is that he?\nThen Balin advised him long:\u2014If I slay him here I shall not escape,\nand if I leave him now peradventure I shall never meet with him again\nat such a good time, and much harm he will do and he live. Therewith\nthis Garlon espied that this Balin beheld him, and then he came and\nsmote Balin on the face with the back of his hand, and said, Knight,\nwhy beholdest thou me so? for shame, therefore, eat thy meat, and do\nthat thou came for. Thou sayest sooth, said Balin, this is not the\nfirst despite that thou hast done me, and therefore I will do that I\ncame for; and rose up fiercely, and clave his head to the shoulders.\nGive me the truncheon, said Balin to his lady, wherewith he slew your\nknight. Anon she gave it him, for alway she bare the truncheon with\nher; and therewith Balin smote him through the body, and said openly,\nWith that truncheon thou hast slain a good knight, and now it sticketh\nin thy body. And then Balin called to him his host, saying, Now may ye\nfetch blood enough to heal your son withal.\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n_How Balin fought with king Pellam, and how his sword brake, and how he\n gat a spear wherewith he smote the dolorous stroke._\n\nAnon all the knights arose from the table for to set on Balin. And king\nPellam himself arose up fiercely, and said, Knight, hast thou slain my\nbrother? thou shalt die therefore or thou depart. Well, said Balin, do\nit yourself. Yes, said king Pellam, there shall no man have ado with\nthee but myself, for the love of my brother. Then king Pellam caught in\nhis hand a grim weapon and smote eagerly at Balin, but Balin put the\nsword betwixt his head and the stroke, and therewith his sword burst in\nsunder. And when Balin was weaponless he ran into a chamber for to seek\nsome weapon, and so from chamber to chamber, and no weapon he could\nfind, and alway king Pellam after him. And at the last he entered into\na chamber that was marvellously well dight and richly, and a bed\narrayed with cloth of gold, the richest that might be thought, and one\nlying therein, and thereby stood a table of clean gold, with four\npillars of silver that bare up the table, and upon the table stood a\nmarvellous spear, strangely wrought. And when Balin saw that spear he\ngat it in his hand, and turned him to king Pellam, and smote him\npassingly sore with that spear, that king Pellam fell down in a swoon,\nand therewith the castle roof and walls brake and fell to the earth,\nand Balin fell down so that he might not stir foot nor hand. And so the\nmost part of the castle that was fallen down through that dolorous\nstroke lay upon Pellam and Balin three days.\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n_How Balin was delivered by Merlin, and saved a knight that would have\n slain himself for love._\n\nThen Merlin came thither and took up Balin, and gat him a good horse,\nfor his was dead, and bade him ride out of that country. I would have\nmy damsel, said Balin. Lo, said Merlin, where she lieth dead. And king\nPellam lay so many years sore wounded, and might never be whole, till\nGalahad, the haut prince, healed him in the quest of the Sangreal; for\nin that place was part of the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, that\nJoseph of Arimathea brought into this land, and there himself lay in\nthat rich bed. And that was the same spear that Longius smote our Lord\nto the heart; and king Pellam was nigh of Joseph\u2019s kin, and that was\nthe most worshipful man that lived in those days, and great pity it was\nof his hurt, for that stroke turned to great dole, trouble, and grief.\n\nThen departed Balin from Merlin, and said, In this world we meet never\nno more. So he rode forth through the fair countries and cities, and\nfound the people dead, slain on every side. And all that were alive\ncried, O Balin, thou hast caused great damage in these countries; for\nthe dolorous stroke thou gavest unto king Pellam three countries are\ndestroyed, and doubt not but the vengeance will fall on thee at the\nlast. When Balin was past those countries he was passing glad. So he\nrode eight days or he met with adventure. And at the last he came into\na fair forest in a valley, and was ware of a tower, and there beside he\nsaw a great horse of war tied to a tree, and there beside sat a fair\nknight on the ground and made great mourning; and he was a likely man\nand a well made. Balin said, God save you, why be ye so heavy? tell me,\nand I will amend it and I may to my power. Sir knight, said he again,\nthou doest me great grief, for I was in merry thoughts, and now thou\nputtest me to more pain. Balin went a little from him, and looked on\nhis horse; then heard Balin him say thus: Ah, fair lady, why have ye\nbroken my promise, for thou promisedst me to meet me here by noon, and\nI may curse thee that ever ye gave me this sword, for with this sword I\nslay myself,\u2014and pulled it out; and therewith Balin start unto him,\nand took him by the hand. Let go my hand, said the knight, or else I\nshall slay thee. That shall not need, said Balin, for I shall promise\nyou my help to get you your lady, and ye will tell me where she is.\nWhat is your name? said the knight. My name is Balin le Savage. Ah,\nsir, I know you well enough; ye are the knight with the two swords, and\nthe man of most prowess of your hands living. What is your name? said\nBalin. My name is Garnish of the Mount, a poor man\u2019s son, but by my\nprowess and hardiness a duke hath made me knight, and gave me lands;\nhis name is duke Hermel, and his daughter is she that I love, and she\nme as I deemed. How far is she hence? said Balin. But six mile, said\nthe knight. Now ride we hence, said these two knights. So they rode\nmore than a pace till they came to a fair castle, well walled and\nditched. I will into the castle, said Balin, and look if she be there.\nSo he went in, and searched from chamber to chamber, and found her bed,\nbut she was not there; then Balin looked into a fair little garden, and\nunder a laurel tree he saw her lie upon a quilt of green samite, and a\nknight with her, and under their heads grass and herbs. When Balin saw\nher with the foulest knight that ever he saw, and she a fair lady, then\nBalin went through all the chambers again, and told the knight how he\nfound her, as she had slept fast, and so brought him in the place where\nshe lay fast sleeping.\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n_How that knight slew his love and a knight with her, and after how he\n slew himself with his own sword, and how Balin rode toward a castle\n where he lost his life._\n\nAnd when Garnish beheld her so lying, for pure sorrow his mouth and\nnose burst out on bleeding, and with his sword he smote off both their\nheads, and then he made sorrow out of measure and said, Oh Balin, much\nsorrow hast thou brought unto me, for hadst thou not shewn me that\nsight I should have passed my sorrow. Forsooth, said Balin, I did it to\nthis intent that it should better thy courage, and that ye might see\nand know her falsehood, and to cause you to leave love of such a lady:\ntruly I did none other but as I would ye did to me. Alas! said Garnish,\nnow is my sorrow double that I may not endure: now have I slain that I\nmost loved in all my life. And therewith suddenly he rove himself on\nhis own sword unto the hilts. When Balin saw that, he dressed him\nthenceward, lest folks would say he had slain them, and so he rode\nforth, and within three days he came by a cross, and thereon were\nletters of gold written that said, It is not for any knight alone to\nride toward this castle. Then saw he an old hoar gentleman coming\ntoward him that said, Balin le Savage, thou passest thy bounds to come\nthis way, therefore turn again and it will avail thee. And he vanished\naway anon; and so he heard an horn blow as it had been the death of a\nbeast. That blast, said Balin, is blown for me, for I am the prize, yet\nam I not dead. Anon withal he saw an hundred ladies and many knights,\nthat welcomed him with fair semblance, and made him passing good cheer\nunto his sight, and led him into the castle, and there was dancing and\nminstrelsy, and all manner of joy. Then the chief lady of the castle\nsaid, Knight with the two swords, ye must have ado with a knight hereby\nthat keepeth an island, for there may no man pass this way but he must\njust or he pass. That is an unhappy custom, said Balin, that a knight\nmay not pass this way but if he just. Ye shall not have ado but with\none knight, said the lady. Well, said Balin, since I shall, thereto am\nI ready, but travelling men are oft weary, and their horses also; but\nthough my horse be weary my heart is not weary. I would be fain there\nmy death should be. Sir, said a knight to Balin, me thinketh your\nshield is not good, I will lend you a bigger: therefore I pray you: and\nso he took the shield that was unknown and left his own, and so rode\nunto the island, and put him and his horse in a great boat, and when he\ncame on the other side he met with a damsel, and she said, O knight\nBalin, why have ye left your own shield? alas! ye have put your self in\ngreat danger, for by your shield ye should have been known: it is great\npity of you as ever was of knight, for of thy prowess and hardiness\nthou hast no fellow living. Me repenteth, said Balin, that ever I came\nwithin this country, but I may not turn now again for shame, and what\nadventure shall fall to me, be it life or death, I will take the\nadventure that shall come to me. And then he looked on his armour, and\nunderstood he was well armed, and therewith blessed him, and mounted\nupon his horse.\n\n\n CHAP. XVIII.\n\n_How Balin met with his brother Balan, and how each of them slew other\n unknown, till they were wounded to death._\n\nThen afore him he saw come riding out of a castle a knight, and his\nhorse trapped all red, and himself in the same colour. When this knight\nin the red beheld Balin, him thought it should be his brother Balin\nbecause of his two swords, but because he knew not his shield, he\ndeemed it was not he. And so they aventred their spears, and came\nmarvellously fast together, and they smote each other in the shields,\nbut their spears and their course were so big that it bare down horse\nand man, that they lay both in a swoon. But Balin was bruised sore with\nthe fall of his horse, for he was weary of travel. And Balan was the\nfirst that rose on foot and drew his sword, and went toward Balin, and\nhe arose and went against him, but Balan smote Balin first, and he put\nup his shield, and smote him through the shield and cleft his helm.\nThen Balin smote him again with that unhappy sword, and well nigh had\nfelled his brother Balan, and so they fought there together till their\nbreaths failed. Then Balin looked up to the castle, and saw the towers\nstand full of ladies. So they went to battle again, and wounded each\nother dolefully, and then they breathed oft-times, and so went unto\nbattle, that all the place there as they fought was blood red. And at\nthat time there was none of them both but they had either smitten other\nseven great wounds, so that the least of them might have been the death\nof the mightiest giant in this world. Then they went to battle again so\nmarvellously that doubt it was to hear of that battle for the great\nbloodshedding, and their hauberks unnailed, that naked they were on\nevery side. At the last Balan, the younger brother, withdrew him a\nlittle and laid him down. Then said Balin le Savage, What knight art\nthou? for or now I found never no knight that matched me. My name is,\nsaid he, Balan, brother to the good knight Balin. Alas! said Balin,\nthat ever I should see this day. And therewith he fell backward in a\nswoon. Then Balan went on all four feet and hands, and put off the helm\nof his brother, and might not know him by the visage it was so full\nhewen and bled; but when he awoke he said, O Balan, my brother, thou\nhast slain me and I thee, wherefore all the wide world shall speak of\nus both. Alas! said Balan, that ever I saw this day, that through\nmishap I might not know you, for I espied well your two swords, but\nbecause ye had another shield I deemed you had been another knight.\nAlas! said Balin, all that made an unhappy knight in the castle, for he\ncaused me to leave mine own shield to our both\u2019s destruction, and if I\nmight live I would destroy that castle for ill customs. That were well\ndone, said Balan, for I had never grace to depart from them since that\nI came hither, for here it happed me to slay a knight that kept this\nisland, and since might I never depart, and no more should ye brother,\nand ye might have slain me as ye have, and escaped yourself with the\nlife. Right so came the lady of the tower with four knights and six\nladies and six yeomen unto them, and there she heard how they made\ntheir moan either to other, and said, We came both out of one womb, and\nso shall we lye both in one pit. So Balan prayed the lady of her\ngentleness, for his true service that she would bury them both in that\nsame place there the battle was done. And she granted them with weeping\nit should be done richly in the best manner. Now will ye send for a\npriest, that we may receive our sacrament and receive the blessed body\nof our Lord Jesus Christ. Yea, said the lady, it shall be done. And so\nshe sent for a priest and gave them their rites. Now, said Balin, when\nwe are buried in one tomb, and the mention made over us how two\nbrethren slew each other, there will never good knight nor good man see\nour tomb but they will pray for our souls. And so all the ladies and\ngentlewomen wept for pity. Then, anon Balan died, but Balin died not\ntill the midnight after, and so were they buried both, and the lady let\nmake a mention of Balan how he was there slain by his brother\u2019s hands,\nbut she knew not Balin\u2019s name.\n\n\n CHAP. XIX.\n\n_How Merlin buried them both in one tomb, and of Balin\u2019s sword._\n\nIn the morn came Merlin and let write Balin\u2019s name upon the tomb, with\nletters of gold, That here lieth Balin le Savage, that was the knight\nwith the two swords, and he that smote the dolorous stroke. Also Merlin\nlet make there a bed, that there should never man lye therein but he\nwent out of his wit, yet Launcelot de Lake fordid that bed through his\nnobleness. And anon after Balin was dead, Merlin took his sword and\ntook off the pommel, and set on another pommel. So Merlin bad a knight\nthat stood afore him to handle that sword, and he assayed, and he might\nnot handle it. Then Merlin laughed. Why laugh ye? said the knight. This\nis the cause, said Merlin: there shall never man handle this sword but\nthe best knight of the world, and that shall be Sir Launcelot, or else\nGalahad his son, and Launcelot with this sword shall slay the man that\nin the world he loved best, that shall be Sir Gawaine. All this he let\nwrite in the pommel of the sword. Then Merlin let make a bridge of iron\nand of steel into that island, and it was but half a foot broad, and\nthere shall never man pass that bridge, nor have hardiness to go over,\nbut if he were a passing good man and a good knight without treachery\nor villainy. Also the scabbard of Balin\u2019s sword Merlin left it on this\nside the island that Galahad should find it. Also Merlin let make by\nhis subtilty that Balin\u2019s sword was put in a marble stone standing\nupright as great as a millstone, and the stone hoved always above the\nwater, and did many years, and so by adventure it swam down the stream\nto the city of Camelot, that is in English Winchester. And that same\nday Galahad the haut prince came with king Arthur, and so Galahad\nbrought with him the scabbard, and achieved the sword that was there in\nthe marble stone hoving upon the water. And on Whitsunday he achieved\nthe sword, as it is rehearsed in the book of the Sangreal. Soon after\nthis was done Merlin came to king Arthur and told him of the dolorous\nstroke that Balin gave to king Pellam, and how Balin and Balan fought\ntogether the most marvellous battle that ever was heard of, and how\nthey were buried both in one tomb. Alas! said king Arthur, this is the\ngreatest pity that ever I heard tell of two knights, for in the world I\nknow not such two knights. Thus endeth the tale of Balin and Balan, two\nbrethren born in Northumberland, good knights.\n\n Sequitur iii liber.\n\n\n\n\n The Third Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How king Arthur took a wife, and wedded Guenever daughter to\n Leodegrance, king of the land of Cameliard, with whom he had the\n Round Table._\n\nIn the beginning of Arthur, after he was chosen king by adventure and\nby grace,\u2014for the most part of the barons knew not that he was Uther\nPendragon\u2019s son, but as Merlin made it openly known,\u2014many kings and\nlords made great war against him for that cause; but well Arthur\novercame them all; for the most part of the days of his life he was\nruled much by the counsel of Merlin. So it fell on a time king Arthur\nsaid unto Merlin, My barons will let me have no rest, but needs I must\ntake a wife, and I will none take but by thy counsel and by thine\nadvice. It is well done, said Merlin, that ye take a wife, for a man of\nyour bounty and nobleness should not be without a wife. Now is there\nany that ye love more than another? Yea, said king Arthur, I love\nGuenever, the daughter of king Leodegrance, of the land of Cameliard,\nwhich Leodegrance holdeth in his house the Table Round, that ye told he\nhad of my father, Uther. And this damsel is the most valiant and\nfairest lady that I know living, or yet that ever I could find. Sir,\nsaid Merlin, as of her beauty and fairness she is one of the fairest on\nlive. But and ye loved her not so well as ye do, I could find you a\ndamsel of beauty and of goodness that should like you and please you,\nand your heart were not set; but there as a man\u2019s heart is set, he will\nbe loth to return. That is truth, said king Arthur. But Merlin warned\nthe king covertly that Guenever was not wholesome for him to take to\nwife, for he warned him that Launcelot should love her, and she him\nagain; and so he turned his tale to the adventures of the Sangreal.\nThen Merlin desired of the king to have men with him that should\nenquire of Guenever, and so the king granted him. And Merlin went forth\nto king Leodegrance of Cameliard, and told him of the desire of the\nking that he would have unto his wife Guenever his daughter. That is to\nme, said king Leodegrance, the best tidings that ever I heard, that so\nworthy a king of prowess and noblesse will wed my daughter. And as for\nmy lands I will give him wist I it might please him, but he hath lands\nenough, him needeth none, but I shall send him a gift shall please him\nmuch more, for I shall give him the Table Round, the which Uther\nPendragon gave me, and when it is full complete there is an hundred\nknights and fifty. And as for an hundred good knights I have myself,\nbut I lack fifty, for so many have been slain in my days. And so king\nLeodegrance delivered his daughter Guenever unto Merlin, and the Table\nRound, with the hundred knights, and so they rode freshly, with great\nroyalty, what by water and what by land, till that they came nigh unto\nLondon.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How the knights of the Round Table were ordained, and their sieges\n blessed by the bishop of Canterbury._\n\nWhen king Arthur heard of the coming of Guenever and the hundred\nknights with the Table Round, then king Arthur made great joy for their\ncoming, and that rich present, and said openly, This fair lady is\npassing welcome unto me, for I have loved her long, and therefore there\nis nothing so lief to me. And these knights with the Round Table please\nme more than right great riches. And in all haste the king let ordain\nfor the marriage and the coronation in the most honourablest wise that\ncould be devised. Now Merlin, said king Arthur, go thou and espy me in\nall this land fifty knights which be of most prowess and worship.\nWithin short time Merlin had found such knights that should fulfil\ntwenty and eight knights, but no more he could find. Then the bishop of\nCanterbury was fetched, and he blessed the sieges with great royalty\nand devotion, and there set the eight and twenty knights in their\nsieges. And when this was done Merlin said, Fair sirs, ye must all\narise and come to king Arthur for to do him homage; he will have the\nbetter will to maintain you. And so they arose and did their homage.\nAnd when they were gone Merlin found in every siege letters of gold\nthat told the knights\u2019 names that had sitten therein. But two sieges\nwere void. And so anon came young Gawaine, and asked the king a gift.\nAsk, said the king, and I shall grant it you. Sir, I ask that ye will\nmake me knight that same day ye shall wed fair Guenever. I will do it\nwith a good will, said king Arthur, and do unto you all the worship\nthat I may, for I must by reason you are my nephew, my sister\u2019s son.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How a poor man riding upon a lean mare desired king Arthur to make his\n son knight._\n\nForthwithal there came a poor man into the court, and brought with him\na fair young man of eighteen year of age, riding upon a lean mare. And\nthe poor man asked all men that he met, Where shall I find king Arthur?\nYonder he is, said the knights, wilt thou anything with him? Yea, said\nthe poor man, therefore I came hither. Anon as he came before the king,\nhe saluted him and said: O king Arthur, the flower of all knights and\nkings, I beseech Jesu save thee: Sir, it was told me that at this time\nof your marriage ye would give any man the gift that he would ask out,\nexcept that were unreasonable. That is truth, said the king, such cries\nI let make, and that will I hold, so it impair not my realm nor mine\nestate. Ye say well and graciously, said the poor man: Sir, I ask\nnothing else but that ye will make my son here a knight. It is a great\nthing that thou askest of me: what is thy name? said the king to the\npoor man. Sir, my name is Aries the cowherd. Whether cometh this of\nthee or of thy son? said the king. Nay Sir, said Aries, this desire\ncometh of my son and not of me. For I shall tell you I have thirteen\nsons, and all they will fall to what labour I put them to, and will be\nright glad to do labour, but this child will do no labour for me, for\nanything that my wife or I may do, but always he will be shooting or\ncasting darts, and glad for to see battles, and to behold knights; and\nalways day and night he desireth of me to be made a knight. What is thy\nname? said the king unto the young man. Sir, my name is Tor. The king\nbeheld him fast, and saw he was passingly well visaged and passingly\nwell made of his years. Well, said king Arthur to Aries the cowherd,\nfetch all thy sons afore me that I may see them. And so the poor man\ndid, and all were shapen much like the poor man: but Tor was not like\nnone of them all in shape nor in countenance, for he was much more than\nany of them. Now, said king Arthur unto the cowherd, where is the sword\nthat he shall be made knight withal? It is here, said Tor. Take it out\nof the sheath, said the king, and require me to make you a knight. Then\nTor alight off his mare, and pulled out his sword, kneeling, and\nrequiring the king that he would make him knight, and that he might be\na knight of the Table Round. As for a knight I will make you; and\ntherewith smote him in the neck with the sword, saying, Be ye a good\nknight, and so I pray to God so ye may be, and if ye be of prowess and\nof worthiness ye shall be a knight of the Table Round. Now Merlin, said\nArthur, say whether this Tor shall be a good knight or no. Yea, sir, he\nought to be a good knight, for he is come of as good a man as any is on\nlive, and of king\u2019s blood. How so, sir? said the king. I shall tell\nyou, said Merlin: this poor man, Aries the cowherd, is not his father,\nhe is nothing like to him, for king Pellinore is his father. I suppose\nnay, said the cowherd. Fetch thy wife afore me, said Merlin, and she\nshall not say nay. Anon, the wife was fetched, which was a fair\nhouse-wife, and there she answered Merlin full womanly. And there she\ntold the king and Merlin that when she was a maid, and went to milk\nkine, There met with me a stern knight, and half by force he held me,\nand after that time was born my son Tor, and he took away from me my\ngreyhound that I had that time with me, and said that he would keep the\ngreyhound for my love. Ah, said the cowherd, I wend not this, but I may\nbelieve it well, for he had never no taches of me. Sir, said Tor to\nMerlin, dishonour not my mother. Sir, said Merlin, it is more for your\nworship than hurt, for your father is a good man and a king, and he may\nright well advance you and your mother, for ye were begotten or ever\nshe was wedded. That is truth, said the wife. It is the less grief to\nme, said the cowherd.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How Sir Tor was known for son of king Pellinore, and how Gawaine was\n made knight._\n\nSo on the morn king Pellinore came to the court of king Arthur, which\nhad great joy of him, and told him of Tor, how he was his son, and how\nhe had made him knight at the request of the cowherd. When king\nPellinore beheld Tor he pleased him much. So the king made Gawaine\nknight, but Tor was the first he made at the feast. What is the cause,\nsaid king Arthur, that there be two places void in the sieges? Sir,\nsaid Merlin, there shall no man sit in those places but they that shall\nbe of most worship. But in the Siege Perilous there shall no man sit\ntherein but one, and if there be any so hardy to do it he shall be\ndestroyed, and he that shall sit there shall have no fellow. And\ntherewith Merlin took king Pellinore by the hand, and in the one hand\nnext the two sieges and the Siege Perilous he said, in open audience,\nThis is your place, and best ye are worthy to sit therein of any that\nis here. Thereat sat Sir Gawaine in great envy, and told Gaheris his\nbrother, Yonder knight is put to great worship, the which grieveth me\nsore, for he slew our father king Lot, therefore I will slay him, said\nGawaine, with a sword that was sent me that is passing trenchant. Ye\nshall not so, said Gaheris, at this time; for at this time I am but a\nsquire, and when I am made knight I will be avenged on him; and\ntherefore brother it is best ye suffer till another time, that we may\nhave him out of the court, for and we did so we should trouble this\nhigh feast. I will well, said Gawaine, as ye will.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How at the feast of the wedding of king Arthur to Guenever, a white\n hart came into the hall, and thirty couple hounds, and how a brachet\n pinched the hart, which was taken away._\n\nThen was the high feast made ready, and the king was wedded at Camelot\nunto Dame Guenever in the church of Saint Stephen\u2019s, with great\nsolemnity. And as every man was set after his degree, Merlin went to\nall the knights of the Round Table, and bad them sit still, that none\nof them remove. For ye shall see a strange and a marvellous adventure.\nRight so as they sat there came running in a white hart into the hall,\nand a white brachet next him, and thirty couple of black running hounds\ncame after with a great cry, and the hart went about the Table Round.\nAs he went by other boards, the white brachet bit him by the haunch and\npulled out a piece, where through the hart lept a great leap and\noverthrew a knight that sat at the board side, and therewith the knight\narose and took up the brachet, and so went forth out of the hall, and\ntook his horse and rode his way with the brachet. Right so anon came in\na lady on a white palfrey, and cried aloud to king Arthur, Sir, suffer\nme not to have this despite, for the brachet was mine that the knight\nled away. I may not do therewith, said the king. With this there came a\nknight riding all armed on a great horse, and took the lady away with\nhim with force, and ever she cried and made great dole. When she was\ngone the king was glad, for she made such a noise. Nay, said Merlin, ye\nmay not leave these adventures so lightly, for these adventures must be\nbrought again or else it would be disworship to you and to your feast.\nI will, said the king, that all be done by your advice. Then, said\nMerlin, let call Sir Gawaine, for he must bring again the white hart.\nAlso, sir, ye must let call Sir Tor, for he must bring again the\nbrachet and the knight, or else slay him. Also let call king Pellinore,\nfor he must bring again the lady and the knight, or else slay him. And\nthese three knights shall do marvellous adventures or they come again.\nThen were they called all three as it rehearseth afore, and every each\nof them took his charge, and armed them surely. But Sir Gawaine had the\nfirst request, and therefore we will begin at him.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How Sir Gawaine rode for to fetch again the hart, and how two brethren\n fought each against other for the hart._\n\nSir Gawaine rode more than a pace, and Gaheris his brother rode with\nhim instead of a squire, to do him service. So as they rode they saw\ntwo knights fight on horseback passing sore, so Sir Gawaine and his\nbrother rode betwixt them, and asked them for what cause they fought\nso. The one knight answered and said: We fight for a simple matter, for\nwe two be two brethren, born and begotten of one man and of one woman.\nAlas! said Sir Gawaine, why do ye so? Sir, said the elder, there came a\nwhite hart this way this day, and many hounds chased him, and a white\nbrachet was alway next him, and we understood it was adventure made for\nthe high feast of king Arthur, and therefore I would have gone after to\nhave won me worship; and here my younger brother said he would go after\nthe hart, for he was a better knight than I; and for this cause we fell\nat debate, and so we thought to prove which of us both was better\nknight. This is a simple cause, said Sir Gawaine; strange men ye should\ndebate withal, and not brother with brother; therefore but if ye will\ndo by my counsel I will have ado with you\u2014that is, ye shall yield you\nunto me, and that ye go unto king Arthur and yield you unto his grace.\nSir knight, said the two brethren, we are for-foughten, and much blood\nhave we lost through our wilfulness, and therefore we would be loth to\nhave ado with you. Then do as I will have you, said Sir Gawaine. We\nwill agree to fulfil your will; but by whom shall we say that we be\nthither sent? Ye may say, by the knight that followeth the quest of the\nhart that was white. Now what is your name? said Sir Gawaine. Sorlouse\nof the Forest, said the elder. And my name is, said the younger, Brian\nof the Forest. And so they departed and went to the king\u2019s court, and\nSir Gawaine on his quest. And as Gawaine followed the hart by the cry\nof the hounds, even afore him there was a great river, and the hart\nswam over; and as Sir Gawaine would follow after there stood a knight\nover the other side, and said, Sir knight, come not over after this\nhart, but if thou wilt just with me. I will not fail as for that, said\nSir Gawaine, to follow the quest that I am in, and so made his horse to\nswim over the water, and anon they gat their spears and ran together\nfull hard, but Sir Gawaine smote him off his horse, and then he turned\nhis horse and bad him yield him. Nay, said the knight, not so, though\nthou have the better of me on horseback: I pray thee, valiant knight,\nalight afoot, and match we together with swords. What is your name?\nsaid Sir Gawaine. Allardin of the Isles, said the other. Then either\ndressed their shields and smote together, but Sir Gawaine smote him so\nhard through the helm that it went to the brains, and the knight fell\ndown dead. Ah! said Gaheris, that was a mighty stroke of a young knight.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How the hart was chased into a castle, and there slain, and how\n Gawaine slew a lady._\n\nThen Gawaine and Gaheris rode more than a pace after the white hart,\nand let slip at the hart three couple of greyhounds, and so they chased\nthe hart into a castle, and in the chief place of the castle they slew\nthe hart: Sir Gawaine and Gaheris followed after. Right so there came a\nknight out of a chamber with a sword drawn in his hand and slew two of\nthe greyhounds, even in the sight of Sir Gawaine, and the remnant he\nchased them with his sword out of the castle. And when he came again,\nhe said, O my white hart, me repenteth that thou art dead, for my\nsovereign lady gave thee to me, and evil have I kept thee, and thy\ndeath shall be dear bought and I live. And anon he went into his\nchamber and armed him, and came out fiercely, and there met he with Sir\nGawaine. Why have ye slain my hounds, said Sir Gawaine, for they did\nbut their kind, and lever I had ye had wroken your anger upon me than\nupon a dumb beast. Thou sayst truth, said the knight, I have avenged me\non thy hounds, and so I will on thee or thou go. Then Sir Gawaine\nalight afoot, and dressed his shield, and they stroke together\nmightily, and clave their shields, and stoned their helms, and brake\ntheir hauberks that the blood ran down to their feet. At the last Sir\nGawaine smote the knight so hard that he fell to the earth; and then he\ncried mercy and yielded him, and besought him as he was a knight and\ngentleman to save his life. Thou shalt die, said Sir Gawaine, for\nslaying of my hounds. I will make amends, said the knight, unto my\npower. Sir Gawaine would no mercy have, but unlaced his helm to have\nstriken off his head; right so came his lady out of a chamber and fell\nover him, and so he smote off her head by misadventure. Alas! said\nGaheris, that is foul and shamefully done; that shame shall never from\nyou. Also, ye should give mercy unto them that ask mercy; for a knight\nwithout mercy is without worship. Sir Gawaine was so astonied at the\ndeath of this fair lady that he wist not what he did, and said unto the\nknight, Arise, I will give thee mercy. Nay, nay, said the knight, I\ncare for no mercy now, for thou hast slain my love and my lady that I\nloved best of all earthly things. Me repenteth it, said Sir Gawaine,\nfor I thought to strike unto thee. But now thou shalt go unto king\nArthur, and tell him of thine adventures, and how thou art overcome by\nthe knight that went in the quest of the white hart. I take no force,\nsaid the knight, whether I live or die. But so for dread of death he\nswore to go unto king Arthur: and he made him to bear one greyhound\nbefore him on his horse, and another behind him. What is your name,\nsaid Sir Gawaine, or we part? My name is, said the knight, Ablamor of\nthe Marsh. So he departed toward Camelot.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How four knights fought against Sir Gawaine and Gaheris, and how they\n were overcome, and their lives saved at the request of four ladies._\n\nAnd Sir Gawaine went into the castle, and made him ready to lie there\nall night, and would have unarmed him. What will ye do? said Gaheris,\nwill ye unarm you in this country? ye may think ye have many enemies\nhere. They had not sooner said that word but there came four knights\nwell armed, and assailed Sir Gawaine hard, and said unto him, Thou new\nmade knight, thou hast shamed thy knighthood, for a knight without\nmercy is dishonoured. Also thou hast slain a fair lady to thy great\nshame to the world\u2019s end, and doubt thou not thou shalt have great need\nof mercy or thou depart from us. And therewith one of them smote Sir\nGawaine a great stroke, that nigh he fell to the earth, and Gaheris\nsmote him again sore, and so they were on the one side and on the\nother, that Sir Gawaine and Gaheris were in jeopardy of their lives;\nand one with a bow, an archer, smote Sir Gawaine through the arm that\nit grieved him wonderly sore. And as they should have been slain, there\ncame four ladies and besought the knights of grace for Sir Gawaine. And\ngoodly at the request of the ladies they gave Sir Gawaine and Gaheris\ntheir lives, and made them to yield them as prisoners. Then Gawaine and\nGaheris made great dole. Alas! said Sir Gawaine, mine arm grieveth me\nsore, I am like to be maimed; and so made his complaint piteously.\nEarly on the morrow there came to Sir Gawaine one of the four ladies\nthat had heard all his complaint, and said, Sir knight, what cheer? Not\ngood, said he. It is your own default, said the lady, for ye have done\na passing foul deed in the slaying of the lady, the which will be great\nvillainly unto you. But be ye not of king Arthur\u2019s kin? said the lady.\nYes, truly, said Sir Gawaine. What is your name? said the lady, ye must\ntell it me or ye pass. My name is Gawaine, the king Lot of Orkney\u2019s\nson, and my mother is king Arthur\u2019s sister. Ah, then are ye nephew unto\nking Arthur, said the lady, and I shall so speak for you that ye shall\nhave conduct to go to king Arthur for his love. And so she departed and\ntold the four knights how their prisoner was king Arthur\u2019s nephew, and\nhis name is Sir Gawaine, king Lot\u2019s son of Orkney. And they gave him\nthe hart\u2019s head, because it was in his quest. Then anon they delivered\nSir Gawaine under this promise, that he should bare the dead lady with\nhim in this manner: the head of her was hanged about his neck, and the\nwhole body of her lay before him on his horse mane. Right so rode he\nforth unto Camelot. And anon as he was come, Merlin desired of king\nArthur that Sir Gawaine should be sworn to tell of all his adventures,\nand how he slew the lady, and how he would give no mercy unto the\nknight, where through the lady was slain. Then the king and the queen\nwere greatly displeased with Sir Gawaine for the slaying of the lady.\nAnd there by ordinance of the queen there was set a quest of ladies on\nSir Gawaine, and they judged him for ever while he lived to be with all\nladies, and to fight for their quarrels; and that ever he should be\ncourteous, and never to refuse mercy to him that asketh mercy. Thus was\nGawaine sworn upon the four Evangelists that he should never be against\nlady nor gentlewoman, but if he fought for a lady and his adversary\nfought for another. And thus endeth the adventure of Sir Gawaine, that\nhe did at the marriage of king Arthur. Amen.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How Sir Tor rode after the knight with the brachet, and of his\n adventure by the way._\n\nWhen Sir Tor was ready he mounted upon his horse\u2019s back, and rode after\nthe knight with the brachet. So as he rode he met with a dwarf suddenly\nthat smote his horse on the head with a staff, that he went backward\nhis spear\u2019s length. Why dost thou so? said Sir Tor. For thou shalt not\npass this way, but if thou just with yonder knights of the pavilions.\nThen was Sir Tor ware where two pavilions were, and great spears stood\nout, and two shields hung on trees by the pavilions. I may not tarry,\nsaid Sir Tor, for I am in a quest that I must needs follow. Thou shalt\nnot pass, said the dwarf; and therewithal he blew his horn. Then there\ncame one armed on horseback, and dressed his shield, and came fast\ntoward Tor, and he dressed him against him, and so ran together that\nSir Tor bare him from his horse. And anon the knight yielded him to his\nmercy: But, sir, I have a fellow in yonder pavilion that will have ado\nwith you anon. He shall be welcome, said Sir Tor. Then was he ware of\nanother knight coming with great force, and each of them dressed to\nother that marvel it was to see: but the knight smote Sir Tor a great\nstroke in the midst of the shield that his spear all to-shivered, and\nSir Tor smote him through the shield so low that it went through the\nside of the knight, but the stroke slew him not. And therewith Sir Tor\nalight and smote him on the helm a great stroke, and therewith the\nknight yielded him, and besought him of mercy. I will well, said Sir\nTor; but thou and thy fellow must go unto king Arthur, and yield you\nprisoners unto him. By whom shall we say are we thither sent? Ye shall\nsay by the knight that went in the quest of the knight that went with\nthe brachet. Now what be your two names? said Sir Tor. My name is, said\nthe one, Sir Felot of Langduk. And my name is, said the other, Sir\nPetipase of Winchelsea. Now go ye forth, said Sir Tor, and God speed\nyou and me. Then came the dwarf and said unto Sir Tor: I pray you give\nme a gift. I will well, said Sir Tor: ask. I ask no more, said the\ndwarf, but that ye will suffer me to do you service, for I will serve\nno more recreant knights. Take an horse, said Sir Tor, and ride on with\nme. I wot ye ride after the knight with the white brachet, and I shall\nbring you where he is, said the dwarf. And so they rode throughout a\nforest, and at the last they were ware of two pavilions even by a\npriory, with two shields, and the one shield was renewed with white,\nand the other shield was red.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How Sir Tor found the brachet with a lady, and how a knight assailed\n him for the said brachet._\n\nTherewith Sir Tor alighted and gave the dwarf his glaive, and so came\nto the white pavilion, and saw three damsels lie in it on one pallet\nsleeping. And so he went to the other pavilion, and there he found a\nlady lying sleeping therein. But there was the white brachet, that\nbayed at her fast, and therewith the lady awoke and went out of the\npavilion, and all her damsels. But anon as Sir Tor espied the white\nbrachet he took her by force, and took her to the dwarf. What, will ye\nso, said the lady, take my brachet from me? Yea, said Sir Tor, this\nbrachet have I sought from king Arthur\u2019s court hither. Well, said the\nlady, knight, ye shall not go far with her but that ye shall be met,\nand grieved. I shall abide what adventure that cometh, by the grace of\nGod, and so mounted upon his horse and passed on his way toward\nCamelot; but it was so near night he might not pass but little farther.\nKnow ye any lodging? said Tor. I know none, said the dwarf, but here\nbeside is an hermitage, and there ye must take lodging as ye find. And\nwithin awhile they came to the hermitage and took lodging; and was\nthere grass, oats, and bread, for their horses; soon it was sped, and\nfull hard was their supper; but there they rested them all the night\ntill on the morn, and heard a mass devoutly, and took their leave of\nthe hermit, and Sir Tor prayed the hermit to pray for him. He said he\nwould, and betook him to God: and so he mounted on horseback, and rode\ntowards Camelot a long while. With that they heard a knight call loud\nthat came after them, and he said, Knight, abide and yield my brachet\nthat thou tookest from my lady. Sir Tor returned again and beheld him\nhow he was a seemly knight and well horsed, and well armed at all\npoints; then Sir Tor dressed his shield, and took his spear in his\nhands, and the other came fiercely upon him and smote both horse and\nman to the earth. Anon they arose lightly and drew their swords as\neagerly as lions, and put their shields afore them, and smote through\nthe shields, and the cantels fell off of both parts. Also they hewed\ntheir helms, that the hot blood ran out, and the thick mails of their\nhauberks they carved and rove in sunder, that the hot blood ran to the\nearth, and both they had many wounds and were passing weary. But Sir\nTor espied that the other knight fainted, and then he sued fast upon\nhim, and doubled his strokes, and made him go to the earth on the one\nside. Then Sir Tor bad him yield him. That will I not, said Abelleus,\nwhile my life lasteth and the soul is within my body, unless that thou\nwilt give me the brachet. That will I not do, said Sir Tor, for it was\nmy quest to bring again thy brachet, thee, or both.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How Sir Tor overcame the knight, and how he lost his head at the\n request of a lady._\n\nWith that came a damsel riding on a palfrey as fast as she might drive\nand cried with a loud voice unto Sir Tor. What will ye with me? said\nSir Tor. I beseech thee, said the damsel, for king Arthur\u2019s love, give\nme a gift; I require thee, gentle knight, as thou art a gentleman. Now,\nsaid Sir Tor, ask a gift, and I will give it you. Gramercy, said the\ndamsel. Now, I ask the head of the false knight Abelleus, for he is the\nmost outrageous knight that liveth, and the greatest murderer. I am\nloth, said Sir Tor, of that gift I have given you; let him make amends\nin that he hath trespassed unto you. Now, said the damsel, he may not,\nfor he slew mine own brother afore mine own eyes, that was a better\nknight than he, and he had had grace; and I kneeled half an hour afore\nhim in the mire for to save my brother\u2019s life, that had done him no\ndamage, but fought with him by adventure of arms, and so for all that I\ncould do he struck off his head; wherefore, I require thee, as thou art\na true knight, to give me my gift, or else I shall shame thee in all\nthe court of king Arthur; for he is the falsest knight living, and a\ngreat destroyer of good knights. Then when Abelleus heard this, he was\nmore afeard, and yielded him and asked mercy. I may not now, said Sir\nTor, but if I should be found false of my promise, for while I would\nhave taken you to mercy ye would none ask, but if ye had the brachet\nagain that was my quest. And therewith he took off his helm, and he\narose and fled, and Sir Tor after him, and smote off his head quite.\nNow, sir, said the damsel, it is near night; I pray you come and lodge\nwith me here at my place, it is here fast by. I will well, said Sir\nTor; for his horse and he had fared evil since they departed from\nCamelot, and so he rode with her, and had passing good cheer with her;\nand she had a passing fair old knight to her husband that made him\npassing good cheer, and well eased both his horse and him. And on the\nmorn he heard his mass, and brake his fast, and took his leave of the\nknight and of the lady, that besought him to tell them his name. Truly,\nhe said, my name is Sir Tor, that late was made knight, and this was\nthe first quest of arms that ever I did, to bring again that this\nknight Abelleus took away from king Arthur\u2019s court. O fair knight, said\nthe lady and her husband, and ye come here in our marches, come and see\nour poor lodging, and it shall be always at your commandment. So Sir\nTor departed, and came to Camelot on the third day by noon. And the\nking and the queen and all the court was passing fain of his coming,\nand made great joy that he was come again; for he went from the court\nwith little succour, but as king Pellinore his father gave him an old\ncourser, and king Arthur gave him armour and a sword, and else had he\nnone other succour, but rode so forth himself alone. And then the king\nand the queen by Merlin\u2019s advice made him to swear to tell of his\nadventures, and so he told and made proofs of his deeds as it is afore\nrehearsed, wherefore the king and the queen made great joy. Nay, nay,\nsaid Merlin, these be but jests to that he shall do; he shall prove a\nnoble knight of prowess, as good as any is living, and gentle and\ncourteous, and of good parts, and passing true of his promise, and\nnever shall outrage. Where through Merlin\u2019s words king Arthur gave him\nan earldom of lands that fell unto him. And here endeth the quest of\nSir Tor, king Pellinore\u2019s son.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How king Pellinore rode after the lady and the knight that led her\n away, and how a lady desired help of him, and how he fought with two\n knights for that lady, of whom he slew the one at the first stroke._\n\nThen king Pellinore armed him and mounted upon his horse, and rode more\nthan a pace after the lady that the knight led away. And as he rode in\na forest, he saw in a valley a damsel sit by a well, and a wounded\nknight in her arms, and Pellinore saluted her. And when she was ware of\nhim, she cried over loud, Help me knight, for Christ\u2019s sake, king\nPellinore! And he would not tarry he was so eager in his quest, and\never she cried an hundred times after help. When she saw he would not\nabide, she prayed unto God to send him as much need of help as she had,\nand that he might feel it or he died. So as the book telleth, the\nknight died that there was wounded, wherefore the lady for pure sorrow\nslew herself with his sword. As king Pellinore rode in that valley he\nmet with a poor man, a labourer: Sawest thou not, said Pellinore, a\nknight riding and leading away a lady? Yea, said the poor man, I saw\nthat knight, and the lady that made great dole. And yonder beneath in a\nvalley there shall ye see two pavilions, and one of the knights of the\npavilions challenged that lady of that knight, and said she was his\ncousin near, wherefore he should lead her no farther. And so they waged\nbattle in that quarrel; the one said he would have her by force, and\nthe other said he would have the rule of her because he was her\nkinsman, and would lead her to her kin. For this quarrel I left them\nfighting, and if ye will ride a pace ye shall find them fighting, and\nthe lady was beleft with the two squires in the pavilions. I thank\nthee, said king Pellinore. Then he rode a wallop till that he had a\nsight of the two pavilions, and the two knights fighting. Anon he rode\nunto the pavilions, and saw the lady that was his quest, and said, Fair\nlady, ye must go with me unto the court of king Arthur. Sir knight,\nsaid the two squires that were with her, yonder are two knights that\nfight for this lady, go thither and depart them, and be agreed with\nthem, and then ye may have her at your pleasure. Ye say well, said king\nPellinore. And anon he rode betwixt them, and departed them, and asked\nthem the cause why that they fought. Sir knight, said the one, I shall\ntell you. This lady is my kinswoman nigh, mine aunt\u2019s daughter, and\nwhen I heard her complain that she was with him maugre her head, I\nwaged battle to fight with him. Sir knight, said the other, whose name\nwas Hontzlake of Wentland, and this lady I gat by my prowess of arms\nthis day at Arthur\u2019s court. That is untruly said, said king Pellinore,\nfor ye came in suddenly there as we were at the high feast, and took\naway this lady or any man might him ready, and therefore it was my\nquest for to bring her again and you both, or else the one of us to\nabide in the field; therefore the lady shall go with me, or I will die\nfor it, for I have promised it king Arthur. And therefore fight ye no\nmore, for none of you shall have no part of her at this time, and if ye\nlist to fight for her, fight with me, and I will defend her. Well, said\nthe knights, make you ready, and we shall assail you with all our\npower. And as king Pellinore would have put his horse from them, Sir\nHontzlake rove his horse through with a sword, and said: Now art thou\non foot as well we are. When king Pellinore espied that his horse was\nslain, lightly he leapt from his horse and pulled out his sword, and\nput his shield afore him, and said: Knight, keep well thy head, for\nthou shalt have a buffet for the slaying of my horse. So king Pellinore\ngave him such a stroke upon the helm that he clave the head down to the\nchin, that he fell to the earth dead.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_How king Pellinore gat the lady and brought her to Camelot to the\n court of king Arthur._\n\nAnd then he turned him to the other knight that was sore wounded. But\nwhen he saw the other\u2019s buffet he would not fight, but kneeled down and\nsaid, Take my cousin, the lady, with you at your request, and I require\nyou, as ye be a true knight, put her to no shame nor villainy. What,\nsaid king Pellinore, will ye not fight for her? No, sir, said the\nknight. I will not fight with such a knight of prowess as ye be. Well,\nsaid Pellinore, ye say well, I promise you she shall have no villainy\nby me, as I am true knight; but now me lacketh an horse, said\nPellinore, but I will have Hontzlake\u2019s horse. Ye shall not need, said\nthe knight, for I shall give you such a horse as shall please you, so\nthat ye will lodge with me, for it is near night. I will well, said\nking Pellinore, abide with you all night. And there he had with him\nright good cheer, and fared of the best with passing good wine, and had\nmerry rest that night. And on the morrow he heard a mass, and dined:\nand then was brought him a fair bay courser, and king Pellinore\u2019s\nsaddle set upon him. Now, what shall I call you? said the knight,\ninasmuch as ye have my cousin at your desire of your quest. Sir, I\nshall tell you; my name is king Pellinore, of the Isles, and knight of\nthe Table Round. Now I am glad, said the knight, that such a noble man\nshall have the rule of my cousin. What is now your name? said\nPellinore, I pray you tell me. Sir, my name is Sir Meliot of Logurs,\nand this lady my cousin, hight Nimue, and the knight that was in the\nother pavilion is my sworn brother, a passing good knight, and his name\nis Brian of the Isles, and he is full loth to do wrong, and full loth\nto fight with any man, but if he be sore sought on, so that for shame\nhe may not leave it. It is marvel, said Pellinore, that he will not\nhave ado with me. Sir, he will not have ado with no man but if it be at\nhis request. Bring him to the court, said Pellinore, one of these days.\nSir, we will come together. And ye shall be welcome, said king\nPellinore, to the court of king Arthur, and greatly allowed for your\ncoming. And so he departed with the lady, and brought her to Camelot.\nSo as they rode in a valley it was full of stones, and there the lady\u2019s\nhorse stumbled and threw her down, wherewith her arm was sore bruised,\nand near she swooned for pain. Alas! sir, said the lady, mine arm is\nout of joint, where through I must needs rest me. Ye shall well, said\nking Pellinore. And so he alighted under a fair tree where was fair\ngrass, and he put his horse thereto, and so laid him under the tree and\nslept till it was nigh night. And when he awoke he would have ridden.\nSir, said the lady, it is so dark that ye may as well ride backward as\nforward. So they abode still and made there their lodging. Then Sir\nPellinore put off his armour; then a little afore midnight they heard\nthe trotting of an horse. Be ye still, said king Pellinore, for we\nshall hear of some adventure.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How on the way king Pellinore heard two knights, as he lay by night in\n a valley, and of other adventures._\n\nAnd therewith he armed him. So right even afore him there met two\nknights, the one came from Camelot and the other from the north, and\neither saluted other. What tidings at Camelot? said the one. By my\nhead, said the other, there have I been, and espied the court of king\nArthur, and there is such a fellowship they may never be broken, and\nwell nigh all the world holdeth with Arthur, for there is the flower of\nchivalry. Now for this cause I am riding into the north to tell our\nchieftains of the fellowship that is withholden with king Arthur. As\nfor that, said the other knight, I have brought a remedy with me, that\nis the greatest poison that ever ye heard speak of, and to Camelot will\nI with it, for we have a friend right nigh king Arthur, and well\ncherished, that shall poison king Arthur, for so he hath promised our\nchieftains, and received great gifts for to do it. Beware, said the\nother knight, of Merlin, for he knoweth all things by the devil\u2019s\ncraft. Therefore will I not let it, said the knight. And so they\ndeparted in sunder. Anon after Pellinore made him ready, and his lady,\nand rode toward Camelot. And as they came by the well there as the\nwounded knight was and the lady, there he found the knight, and the\nlady eaten with lions or wild beasts all save the head, wherefore he\nmade great sorrow, and wept passing sore, and said: Alas, her life\nmight I have saved, but I was so fierce in my quest therefore I would\nnot abide. Wherefore make ye such dole, said the lady. I wot not, said\nPellinore, but my heart mourneth sore for the death of her, for she was\na passing fair lady and a young. Now will ye do by mine advice, said\nthe lady, take this knight and let him be buried in an hermitage, and\nthen take the lady\u2019s head and bear it with you unto Arthur. So king\nPellinore took this dead knight on his shoulders and brought him to the\nhermitage, and charged the hermit with the corpse, that service should\nbe done for the soul; and take his harness for your pain. It shall be\ndone, said the hermit, as I will answer unto God.\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n_How when king Pellinore was come to Camelot he was sworn upon a book\n to tell truth of his quest._\n\nAnd therewith they departed and came there as the head of the lady lay\nwith a fair yellow hair, that grieved king Pellinore passingly sore\nwhen he looked on it, for much he cast his heart on the visage. And so\nby noon they came to Camelot. And the king and the queen were passing\nfain of his coming to the court. And there he was made to swear upon\nthe four Evangelists to tell the truth of his quest from the one to the\nother. Ah, Sir Pellinore, said queen Guenever, ye were greatly to blame\nthat ye saved not this lady\u2019s life. Madam, said Pellinore, ye were\ngreatly to blame and ye would not save your own life and ye might; but\nsaving your pleasure, I was so furious in my quest that I would not\nabide, and that repenteth me, and shall the days of my life. Truly,\nsaid Merlin, ye ought sore to repent it, for the lady was your own\ndaughter, and that knight that was dead was her love, and should have\nwedded her, and he was a right good knight of a young man, and would\nhave proved a good man, and to this court was he coming, and his name\nwas Sir Miles of the lands, and a knight came behind him and slew him\nwith a spear, and his name is Loraine le Savage, a false knight and a\ncoward; and she for great sorrow and dole slew herself with his sword,\nand her name was Eleine. And because ye would not abide and help her,\nye shall see your best friend fail you when ye be in the greatest\ndistress that ever ye were or shall be. And that penance God hath\nordained you for that deed, that he that ye shall most trust to of any\nman alive, he shall leave you there as ye shall be slain. Me\nforthinketh, said king Pellinore, that this shall betide, but God may\nwell fordo destiny.\n\nThus when the quest was done of the white hart, the which followed Sir\nGawaine; and the quest of the brachet followed of Sir Tor, Pellinore\u2019s\nson; and the quest of the lady that the knight took away, the which\nking Pellinore at that time followed; then the king stablished all his\nknights, and them that were of lands not rich he gave them lands, and\ncharged them never to do outrage, nor murder, and always to flee\ntreason. Also, by no mean to be cruel, but to give mercy unto him that\nasketh mercy, upon pain of forfeiture of their worship and lordship of\nking Arthur for evermore; and alway to do ladies, damsels, and\ngentlewomen succour upon pain of death. Also, that no man take no\nbattles in a wrongful quarrel for no law, nor for world\u2019s goods. Unto\nthis were all the knights sworn of the Table Round, both old and young.\nAnd every year were they sworn at the high feast of Pentecost.\n\n Explicit the weddynge of kynge Arthur.\n Sequitur quartus liber.\n\n\n\n\n The Fourth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How Merlin was assotted and doted on one of the ladies of the lake,\n and how he was shut in a rock under a stone, and there died._\n\nSo after these quests of Sir Gawaine, Sir Tor, and king Pellinore, it\nfell so that Merlin fell in a dotage on the damsel that king Pellinore\nbrought to court, and she was one of the damsels of the lake, that\nhight Nimue. But Merlin would let her have no rest, but always he would\nbe with her. And ever she made Merlin good cheer till she had learned\nof him all manner thing that she desired; and he was assotted upon her\nthat he might not be from her. So on a time he told king Arthur that he\nshould not dure long, but for all his crafts he should be put in the\nearth quick, and so he told the king many things that should befall,\nbut always he warned the king to keep well his sword and the scabbard,\nfor he told him how the sword and the scabbard should be stolen by a\nwoman from him that he most trusted. Also he told king Arthur that he\nshould miss him:\u2014Yet had ye lever than all your lands to have me\nagain. Ah, said the king, since ye know of your adventure, purvey for\nit, and put away by your crafts that misadventure. Nay, said Merlin, it\nwill not be. So he departed from the king. And within awhile the damsel\nof the lake departed, and Merlin went with her evermore wheresoever she\nwent. And oft times Merlin would have had her privily away by his\nsubtle crafts: then she made him to swear that he should never do none\nenchantment upon her if he would have his will. And so he sware: so she\nand Merlin went over the sea unto the land of Benwick, where as king\nBan was king that had great war against king Claudas, and there Merlin\nspake with king Ban\u2019s wife, a fair lady and a good, and her name was\nElaine, and there he saw young Launcelot. There the queen made great\nsorrow for the mortal war that king Claudas made on her lord and on her\nlands. Take none heaviness, said Merlin, for this same child within\nthis twenty year shall revenge you on king Claudas, that all\nchristendom shall speak of it: and this same child shall be the man of\nmost worship of the world, and his first name is Galahad, that know I\nwell, said Merlin, and since ye have confirmed him, Launcelot. That is\ntruth, said the queen, his first name was Galahad. O, Merlin, said the\nqueen, shall I live to see my son such a man of prowess? Yea, lady, on\nmy peril ye shall see it, and live many winters after. And so, soon\nafter the lady and Merlin departed; and by the way Merlin shewed her\nmany wonders, and came into Cornwall. And always Merlin lay about the\nlady to have her love, and she was ever passing weary of him, and fain\nwould have been delivered of him, for she was afeard of him because he\nwas a devil\u2019s son, and she could not put him away by no means.\n\nAnd so on a time it happed that Merlin shewed to her in a rock whereas\nwas a great wonder, and wrought by enchantment, that went under a great\nstone. So by her subtle working, she made Merlin to go under that stone\nto let her wit of the marvels there, but she wrought so there for him\nthat he came never out for all the craft that he could do. And so she\ndeparted and left Merlin.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How five kings came into this land to war against king Arthur, and\n what counsel Arthur had against them._\n\nAnd as king Arthur rode to Camelot, and held there a great feast with\nmirth and joy, so soon after he returned unto Cardoile, and there came\nunto Arthur new tidings that the king of Denmark, and the king of\nIreland that was his brother, and the king of the Vale, and the king of\nSoleise, and the king of the Isle of Longtainse, all these five kings\nwith a great host were entered into the land of king Arthur, and burnt\nand slew clean afore them both cities and castles, that it was pity to\nhear. Alas, said Arthur, yet had I never rest one month since I was\ncrowned king of this land. Now shall I never rest till I meet with\nthose kings in a fair field, that I make mine avow; for my true liege\npeople shall not be destroyed in my default, go with me who will, and\nabide who that will. Then the king let write unto king Pellinore, and\nprayed him in all haste to make him ready with such people as he might\nlightliest rear, and hie him after in all haste. All the barons were\nprivily wroth that the king would depart so suddenly: but the king by\nno mean would abide, but made writing unto them that were not there,\nand had them hie after him, such as were not at that time in the court.\nThen the king came to queen Guenever, and said, Lady, make you ready,\nfor ye shall go with me, for I may not long miss you, ye shall cause me\nto be the more hardy, what adventure so befall me: I will not wit my\nlady to be in no jeopardy. Sir, said she, I am at your commandment, and\nshall be ready what time so ye be ready. So on the morn the king and\nthe queen departed with such fellowship as they had, and came into the\nnorth into a forest beside Humber, and there lodged them. When the word\nand tiding came to the five kings above said, that king Arthur was\nbeside Humber in a forest, there was a knight, brother unto one of the\nfive kings, that gave them this counsel: Ye know well that Sir Arthur\nhath the flower of chivalry of the world with him, as it is proved by\nthe great battle he did with the eleven kings; and therefore hie unto\nhim night and day till that we be nigh him, for the longer he tarrieth\nthe bigger he is, and we ever the weaker; and he is so courageous of\nhimself, that he is come to the field with little people, and therefore\nlet us set upon him or day, and we shall slay down of his knights there\nshall none escape.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How king Arthur had ado with them and overthrew them, and slew the\n five kings, and made the remnant to flee._\n\nUnto this counsel these five kings assented, and so they passed forth\nwith their host through North Wales, and came upon Arthur by night, and\nset upon his host as the king and his knights were in their pavilions.\nKing Arthur was unarmed, and had laid him to rest with his queen\nGuenever. Sir, said Sir Kay, it is not good we be unarmed: we shall\nhave no need, said Sir Gawaine and Sir Griflet, that lay in a little\npavilion by the king. With that they heard a great noise, and many\ncried treason, treason! Alas, said king Arthur, we are betrayed! Unto\narms, fellows! then he cried. So they were armed anon at all points.\nThen came there a wounded knight unto the king, and said, Sir, save\nyourself and my lady the queen, for our host is destroyed, and much\npeople of ours slain. So anon the king and the queen and the three\nknights took their horses, and rode toward Humber to pass over it, and\nthe water was so rough that they were afeard to pass over. Now may ye\nchoose, said king Arthur, whether ye will abide and take the adventure\non this side, for and ye be taken they will slay you. It were me lever,\nsaid the queen, to die in the water than to fall in your enemies\u2019\nhands, and there be slain. And as they stood so talking, Sir Kay saw\nthe five kings coming on horseback by themselves alone, with their\nspears in their hands even toward them. Lo, said Sir Kay, yonder be the\nfive kings, let us go to them and match them. That were folly, said Sir\nGawaine, for we are but four and they be five. That is truth, said Sir\nGriflet. No force, said Sir Kay, I will undertake for two of them, and\nthen may ye three undertake for the other three. And therewithal Sir\nKay let his horse run as fast as he might, and struck one of them\nthrough the shield and the body a fathom, that the king fell to the\nearth stark dead. That saw Sir Gawaine and ran unto another king so\nhard that he smote him through the body. And therewithal king Arthur\nran to another, and smote him through the body with a spear, that he\nfell to the earth dead. Then Sir Griflet ran unto the fourth king, and\ngave him such a fall that his neck brake. Anon Sir Kay ran unto the\nfifth king, and smote him so hard on the helm that the stroke clave the\nhelm and the head to the earth. That was well stricken, said king\nArthur, and worshipfully hast thou holden thy promise, therefore I\nshall honour thee while that I live. And therewithal they set the queen\nin a barge into Humber, but always queen Guenever praised Sir Kay for\nhis deeds, and said, What lady that ye love, and she love you not\nagain, she were greatly to blame; and among ladies, said the queen, I\nshall bear your noble fame, for ye spake a great word, and fulfilled it\nworshipfully. And therewith the queen departed. Then the king and the\nthree knights rode into the forest, for there they supposed to hear of\nthem that were escaped; and there king Arthur found the most part of\nhis people, and told them all how the five kings were dead.\u2014And\ntherefore let us hold us together till it be day, and when their host\nhave espied that their chieftains be slain, they will make such dole\nthat they shall no more help themselves. And right so as the king said,\nso it was; for when they found the five kings dead, they made such dole\nthat they fell from their horses. Therewithal came king Arthur but with\na few people, and slew on the left hand and on the right hand, that\nwell nigh there escaped no man, but all were slain to the number of\nthirty thousand. And when the battle was all ended, the king kneeled\ndown and thanked God meekly. And then he sent for the queen, and soon\nshe was come, and she made great joy of the overcoming of that battle.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How the battle was finished or king Pellinore came, and how king\n Arthur founded an abbey where the battle was._\n\nTherewithal came one to king Arthur, and told him that king Pellinore\nwas within three mile with a great host; and he said, Go unto him, and\nlet him understand how we have sped. So within awhile king Pellinore\ncame with a great host, and saluted the people and the king: and there\nwas great joy made on every side. Then the king let search how much\npeople of his party there was slain: and there were found but little\npast two hundred men slain, and eight knights of the Table Round in\ntheir pavilions. Then the king let rear and devise in the same place\nthere as the battle was done a fair abbey, and endowed it with great\nlivelihood, and let call it the Abbey of La Beale Adventure. But when\nsome of them came into their countries whereof the five kings were\nkings, and told them how they were slain, there was made great dole.\nAnd when all king Arthur\u2019s enemies, as the king of North Wales, and the\nkings of the North, wist of the battle they were passing heavy. And so\nthe king returned to Camelot in haste. And when he was come to Camelot\nhe called king Pellinore unto him, and said, Ye understand well, that\nwe have lost eight knights of the best of the Table Round, and by your\nadvice we will choose eight again of the best we may find in this\ncourt. Sir, said Pellinore, I shall counsel you after my conceit the\nbest; there are in your court full noble knights both of old and young,\nand therefore by mine advice ye shall choose half of the old and half\nof the young. Which be the old? said king Arthur. Sir, said king\nPellinore, me seemeth that king Uriens that hath wedded your sister\nMorgan le Fay, and the king of the Lake, and Sir Hervise de Revel, a\nnoble knight, and Sir Galagars the fourth. This is well devised, said\nking Arthur, and right so shall it be. Now, which are the four young\nknights? said Arthur. Sir, said Pellinore, the first is Sir Gawaine\nyour nephew, that is as good a knight of his time as any is in this\nland; and the second, as me seemeth, is Sir Griflet le Fise de Dieu,\nthat is a good knight, and full desirous in arms, and who may see him\nlive he shall prove a good knight; and the third as me seemeth is well\nto be one of the knights of the Round Table, Sir Kay the seneschal, for\nmany times he hath done full worshipfully, and now at your last battle\nhe did full honourably for to undertake to slay two kings. By my head,\nsaid king Arthur, he is best worthy to be a knight of the Round Table\nof any that ye have rehearsed, and he had done no more prowess in his\nlife days.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How Sir Tor was made knight of the Round Table, and how Bagdemagus was\n displeased._\n\nNow, said king Pellinore, I shall put to you two knights, and ye shall\nchoose which is most worthy, that is Sir Bagdemagus, and Sir Tor, my\nson. But because Sir Tor is my son I may not praise him, but else, and\nhe were not my son, I durst say that of his age there is not in this\nland a better knight then he is, nor of better conditions, and loth to\ndo any wrong, and loth to take any wrong. By my head, said Arthur, he\nis a passing good knight, as any ye spake of this day, that wot I well,\nsaid the king, for I have seen him proved, but he saith little, and he\ndoth much more, for I know none in all this court, and he were as well\nborn on his mother\u2019s side as he is on your side, that is like him of\nprowess and of might; and therefore I will have him at this time, and\nleave Sir Bagdemagus till another time. So when they were so chosen by\nthe assent of all the barons, so were there found in their sieges every\nknight\u2019s names that here are rehearsed. And so were they set in their\nsieges, whereof Sir Bagdemagus was wonderly wroth, that Sir Tor was\nadvanced afore him, and therefore suddenly he departed from the court,\nand took his squire with him, and rode long in a forest till they came\nto a cross, and there alight and said his prayers devoutly. The\nmeanwhile his squire found written upon the cross, that Bagdemagus\nshould never return unto the court again till he had won a knight\u2019s\nbody of the Round Table, body for body. Lo, sir, said his squire, here\nI find writing of you, therefore I counsel you return again to the\ncourt. That shall I never, said Bagdemagus, till men speak of me great\nworship, and that I be worthy to be a knight of the Round Table. And so\nhe rode forth. And there by the way he found a branch of an holy herb\nthat was the sign of the Sangreal, and no knight found such tokens but\nhe were a good liver. So as Sir Bagdemagus rode to see many adventures,\nit happed him to come to the rock there as the lady of the lake had put\nMerlin under a stone, and there he heard him make great dole; whereof\nSir Bagdemagus would have holpen him, and went unto the great stone,\nand it was so heavy that an hundred men might not lift it up. When\nMerlin wist he was there, he bad leave his labour, for all was in vain,\nfor he might never be holpen but by her that put him there. And so Sir\nBagdemagus departed, and did many adventures, and proved after a full\ngood knight, and came again to the court, and was made knight of the\nRound Table. So on the morn there fell new tidings and other adventures.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How king Arthur, king Uriens, and Sir Accolon of Gaul chased an hart,\n and of their marvellous adventures._\n\nThen it befel that Arthur and many of his knights rode on hunting into\na great forest, and it happed king Arthur, king Uriens, and Sir Accolon\nof Gaul followed a great hart, for they three were well horsed, and so\nthey chased so fast that within awhile they three were then ten mile\nfrom their fellowship. And at the last they chased so sore that they\nslew their horses underneath them. Then were they all three on foot,\nand ever they saw the hart afore them passing weary and enbushed. What\nwill ye do? said king Arthur, we are hard bested. Let us go on foot,\nsaid king Uriens, till we may meet with some lodging. Then were they\nware of the hart that lay on a great water bank, and a brachet biting\non his throat, and more other hounds came after. Then king Arthur blew\nthe prise and dight the hart. Then the king looked about the world, and\nsaw afore him in a great water a little ship, all apparelled with silk\ndown to the water, and the ship came right unto them, and landed on the\nsands. Then Arthur went to the bank and looked in, and saw none earthly\ncreature therein. Sirs, said the king, come thence, and let us see what\nis in this ship. So they went in all three, and found it richly\nbehanged with cloth of silk. By then it was dark night, and there\nsuddenly were about them an hundred torches set upon all the sides of\nthe ship boards, and it gave great light; and therewithal there came\nout twelve fair damsels and saluted king Arthur on their knees, and\ncalled him by his name, and said he was right welcome, and such cheer\nas they had he should have of the best. The king thanked them fair.\nTherewithal they led the king and his two fellows into a fair chamber,\nand there was a cloth laid richly beseen of all that longed unto a\ntable, and there were they served of all wines and meats that they\ncould think; of that the king had great marvel, for he fared never\nbetter in his life as for one supper. And so when they had supped at\ntheir leisure, king Arthur was led into a chamber, a richer beseen\nchamber saw he never none; and so was king Uriens served, and led into\nsuch another chamber; and Sir Accolon was led into the third chamber,\npassing richly and well beseen: and so were they laid in their beds\neasily. And anon they fell on sleep, and slept marvellously sore all\nthat night. And on the morrow king Uriens was in Camelot with his wife,\nMorgan le Fay. And when he awoke he had great marvel how he came there,\nfor on the even afore he was two days\u2019 journey from Camelot. And when\nking Arthur awoke he found himself in a dark prison, hearing about him\nmany complaints of woful knights.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How Arthur took upon him to fight to be delivered out of prison, and\n also for to deliver twenty knights that were in prison._\n\nWhat are ye that so complain? said king Arthur. We be here twenty\nknights prisoners, said they, and some of us have lain here seven year,\nand some more and some less. For what cause? said Arthur. We shall tell\nyou, said the knights; This lord of this castle his name is Sir Damas,\nand he is the falsest knight that liveth, and full of treason, and a\nvery coward as any liveth, and he hath a younger brother, a good knight\nof prowess, his name is Sir Ontzlake, and this traitor Damas, the elder\nbrother, will give him no part of his livelihood but as Sir Ontzlake\nkeepeth through prowess of his hands, and so he keepeth from him a full\nfair manor and a rich, and therein Sir Ontzlake dwelleth worshipfully\nand is well beloved of all people. And this Sir Damas our master is as\nevil beloved, for he is without mercy, and he is a coward, and great\nwar hath been betwixt them both, but Ontzlake hath ever the better, and\never he proffereth Sir Damas to fight for the livelihood, body for\nbody; but if he will not do it to find a knight to fight for him. Unto\nthat Sir Damas hath granted to find a knight, but he is so evil beloved\nand hated, that there is never a knight will fight for him. And when\nDamas saw this, that there was never a knight would fight for him, he\nhath daily lain await with many knights with him and taken all the\nknights in this country to see and espy their adventures: he hath taken\nthem by force and brought them to his prison. And so he took us\nseverally as we rode on our adventures, and many good knights have died\nin this prison for hunger, to the number of eighteen knights: and if\nany of us all that here is or hath been, would have fought with his\nbrother Ontzlake he would have delivered us, but for because this Damas\nis so false and so full of treason, we would never fight for him to die\nfor it. And we be so lean with hunger that hardly we may stand on our\nfeet. God deliver you for his mercy, said Arthur. Anon therewithal\nthere came a damsel unto Arthur, and asked him, What cheer? I cannot\nsay, said he. Sir, said she, and ye will fight for my lord, ye shall be\ndelivered out of prison, and else ye escape never with life. Now, said\nArthur, that is hard, yet had I lever to fight with a knight than to\ndie in prison: with this, said Arthur, that I may be delivered and all\nthese prisoners I will do the battle. Yes, said the damsel. I am ready,\nsaid Arthur, and I had horse and armour. Ye shall lack none, said the\ndamsel. Me seemeth, damsel, that I should have seen you in the court of\nArthur. Nay, said the damsel, I came never there, I am the lord\u2019s\ndaughter of this castle. Yet was she false, for she was one of the\ndamsels of Morgan le Fay. Anon she went unto Sir Damas, and told him\nhow he would do battle for him, and so he sent for Arthur. And when he\ncame he was well coloured, and well made of his limbs, that all knights\nthat saw him said it were pity that such a knight should die in prison.\nSo Sir Damas and he were agreed that he should fight for him upon this\ncovenant, that all other knights should be delivered; and unto that was\nSir Damas sworn unto Arthur, and also to do the battle to the\nuttermost. And with that all the twenty knights were brought out of the\ndark prison into the hall and delivered. And so they all abode to see\nthe battle.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How Accolon found himself by a well, and he took upon him to do battle\n against Arthur._\n\nNow turn we unto Accolon of Gaul, that when he awoke he found himself\nby a deep well side, within half a foot, in great peril of death. And\nthere came out of that fountain a pipe of silver, and out of that pipe\nran water all on high in a stone of marble. When Sir Accolon saw this\nhe blessed him and said: Jesu save my lord king Arthur, and king\nUriens, for these damsels in this ship have betrayed us. They were\ndevils and no women, and if I may escape this misadventure, I shall\ndestroy all where I may find these false damsels that use enchantments.\n\nRight with that there came a dwarf with a great mouth and a flat nose,\nand saluted Sir Accolon, and said how he came from queen Morgan le Fay;\nand she greeteth you well, and biddeth you be of strong heart, for ye\nshall fight to morn with a knight at the hour of prime, and therefore\nshe hath sent you here Excalibur Arthur\u2019s sword, and the scabbard, and\nshe biddeth you as ye love her, that ye do the battle to the uttermost\nwithout any mercy, like as ye had promised her when ye spake together\nin private: and what damsel that bringeth her the knight\u2019s head that ye\nshall fight withal, she will make her a queen. Now I understand you\nwell, said Accolon: I shall hold that I have promised her, now I have\nthe sword: when saw ye my lady queen Morgan le Fay? Right late, said\nthe dwarf. Then Accolon took him in his arms, and said, Recommend me\nunto my lady queen, and tell her all shall be done that I have promised\nher, and else I will die for it. Now I suppose, said Accolon, she hath\nmade all these crafts and enchantments for this battle. Ye may well\nbelieve it, said the dwarf. Right so there came a knight and a lady\nwith six squires, and saluted Sir Accolon and prayed him for to arise,\nand come and rest him at his manor. And so Accolon mounted upon a void\nhorse, and went with the knight unto a fair manor by a priory, and\nthere he had passing good cheer. Then Sir Damas sent unto his brother\nSir Ontzlake, and bade make him ready by to morn at the hour of prime,\nand to be in the field to fight with a good knight, for he had found a\ngood knight that was ready to do battle at all points. When this word\ncame unto Sir Ontzlake he was passing heavy, for he was wounded a\nlittle tofore through both his thighs with a spear, and made great\ndole: but as he was wounded he would have taken the battle on hand. So\nit happed at that time, by the means of Morgan le Fay, Accolon was with\nSir Ontzlake lodged; and when he heard of that battle, and how Ontzlake\nwas wounded, he said he would fight for him, because Morgan le Fay had\nsent him Excalibur and the sheath for to fight with the knight on the\nmorn; this was the cause Sir Accolon took the battle on hand. Then Sir\nOntzlake was passing glad, and thanked Sir Accolon with all his heart\nthat he would do so much for him. And therewithal Sir Ontzlake sent\nword unto his brother Sir Damas that he had a knight that for him\nshould be ready in the field by the hour of prime. So on the morn Sir\nArthur was armed and well horsed, and asked Sir Damas, When shall we to\nthe field? Sir, said Sir Damas, ye shall hear mass; and so Arthur heard\na mass. And when mass was done there came a squire on a great horse,\nand asked Sir Damas if his knight were ready, for our knight is ready\nin the field. Then Sir Arthur mounted upon horseback, and there were\nall the knights and commons of that country; and so by all advices\nthere were chosen twelve good men of the country for to wait upon the\ntwo knights. And right as Arthur was upon horseback there came a damsel\nfrom Morgan le Fay, and brought unto Sir Arthur a sword like unto\nExcalibur, and the scabbard, and said unto Arthur, Morgan le Fay\nsendeth you here your sword for great love. And he thanked her, and\nwend it had been so, but she was false, for the sword and the scabbard\nwas counterfeit, and brittle, and false.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_Of the battle between king Arthur and Accolon._\n\nAnd then they dressed them on both parts of the field, and let their\nhorses run so fast that either smote other in the midst of the shield\nwith their spears\u2019 head, that both horse and man went to the earth; and\nthen they started up both, and pulled out their swords. The mean while\nthat they were thus at the battle, came the damsel of the lake into the\nfield, that put Merlin under the stone, and she came thither for love\nof king Arthur, for she knew how Morgan le Fay had so ordained that\nking Arthur should have been slain that day, and therefore she came to\nsave his life. And so they went eagerly to the battle, and gave many\ngreat strokes. But alway king Arthur\u2019s sword bit not like Accolon\u2019s\nsword, but for the most part every stroke that Accolon gave wounded he\nsore Arthur, that it was marvel he stood; and alway his blood fell from\nhim fast. When Arthur beheld the ground so sore be-bled he was\ndismayed, and then he deemed treason, that his sword was changed; for\nhis sword bit not steel as it was wont to do, therefore he dread him\nsore to be dead, for ever him seemed that the sword in Accolon\u2019s hand\nwas Excalibur, for at every stroke that Sir Accolon struck he drew\nblood on Arthur. Now knight, said Accolon unto Arthur, keep thee well\nfrom me: but Arthur answered not again, and gave him such a buffet on\nthe helm that he made him to stoop, nigh falling down to the earth.\nThen Sir Accolon withdrew him a little, and came on with Excalibur on\nhigh, and smote Sir Arthur such a buffet that he fell nigh to the\nearth. Then were they wroth both, and gave each other many sore\nstrokes, but always Sir Arthur lost so much blood that it was marvel he\nstood on his feet, but he was so full of knighthood that knightly he\nendured the pain. And Sir Accolon lost not a deal of blood, therefore\nhe waxed passing light, and Sir Arthur was passing feeble, and wend\nverily to have died; but for all that he made countenance as though he\nmight endure, and held Accolon as short as he might. But Accolon was so\nbold because of Excalibur that he waxed passing hardy. But all men that\nbeheld him said they never saw knight fight so well as Arthur did,\nconsidering the blood that he bled. So was all the people sorry for\nhim, but the two brethren would not accord; then always they fought\ntogether as fierce knights, and Sir Arthur withdrew him a little for to\nrest him, and Sir Accolon called him to battle, and said, It is no time\nfor me to suffer thee to rest. And therewith he came fiercely upon\nArthur, and Sir Arthur was wroth for the blood that he had lost, and\nsmote Accolon on high upon the helm so mightily that he made him nigh\nto fall to the earth; and therewith Arthur\u2019s sword brast at the cross,\nand fell in the grass among the blood, and the pommel and the sure\nhandles he held in his hands. When Sir Arthur saw that, he was in great\nfear to die, but always he held up his shield, and lost no ground, nor\nbated no cheer.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How king Arthur\u2019s sword that he fought with brake, and how he\n recovered of Accolon his own sword Excalibur, and overcame his enemy._\n\nThen Sir Accolon began with words of treason, and said, Knight, thou\nart overcome, and mayest not endure, and also thou art weaponless, and\nthou hast lost much of thy blood, and I am full loth to slay thee,\ntherefore yield thee to me as recreant. Nay, said Sir Arthur, I may not\nso, for I have promised to do the battle to the uttermost by the faith\nof my body while me lasteth the life, and therefore I had lever to die\nwith honour than to live with shame; and if it were possible for me to\ndie an hundred times I had lever to die so oft than yield me to thee;\nfor though I lack weapon I shall lack no worship, and if thou slay me\nweaponless that shall be thy shame. Well, said Accolon, as for the\nshame I will not spare: now keep thee from me, for thou art but a dead\nman. And therewith Accolon gave him such a stroke that he fell nigh to\nthe earth, and would have had Arthur to have cried him mercy. But Sir\nArthur pressed unto Accolon with his shield, and gave him with the\npommel in his hand such a buffet that he went three strides aback. When\nthe damsel of the lake beheld Arthur, how full of prowess his body was,\nand the false treason that was wrought for him to have had him slain,\nshe had great pity that so good a knight and such a man of worship\nshould be destroyed. And at the next stroke Sir Accolon struck him such\na stroke, that by the damsel\u2019s enchantment the sword Excalibur fell out\nof Accolon\u2019s hand to the earth; and therewithal Sir Arthur lightly\nleapt to it, and got it in his hand, and forthwithal he knew that it\nwas his sword Excalibur, and said, Thou hast been from me all too long,\nand much damage hast thou done me. And therewith he espied the scabbard\nhanging by his side, and suddenly he start to him, and pulled the\nscabbard from him, and anon threw it from him as far as he might throw\nit. O knight, said Arthur, this day hast thou done me great damage with\nthis sword; now are ye come unto your death, for I shall not warrant\nyou but ye shall as well be rewarded with this sword or ever we depart,\nas thou hast rewarded me, for much pain have ye made me to endure, and\nmuch blood have I lost. And therewith Sir Arthur rushed on him with all\nhis might and pulled him to the earth, and then rushed off his helm,\nand gave him such a buffet on the head that the blood came out at his\nears, his nose, and his mouth. Now will I slay thee, said Arthur. Slay\nme ye may well, said Accolon, and it please you, for ye are the best\nknight that ever I found, and I see well that God is with you: but for\nI promised to do this battle to the uttermost, said Accolon, and never\nto be recreant while I lived, therefore shall I never yield me with my\nmouth, but God do with my body what he will. Then Sir Arthur remembered\nhim, and thought he should have seen this knight. Now tell me, said\nArthur, or I will slay thee, of what country art thou, and of what\ncourt? Sir knight, said Sir Accolon, I am of the court of king Arthur,\nand my name is Accolon of Gaul. Then was Arthur more dismayed than he\nwas beforehand; for then he remembered him of his sister Morgan le Fay,\nand of the enchantment of the ship. O Sir knight, said he, I pray you\ntell me who gave you this sword, and by whom ye had it.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How Accolon confessed the treason of Morgan le Fay, king Arthur\u2019s\n sister, and how she would have done slay him._\n\nThen Sir Accolon bethought him, and said, Woe worth this sword, for by\nit have I gotten my death. It may well be, said the king. Now Sir, said\nSir Accolon, I will tell you: This sword hath been in my keeping the\nmost part of this twelvemonth, and Morgan le Fay, king Uriens\u2019 wife,\nsent it me yesterday by a dwarf, to this intent that I should slay king\nArthur her brother. For ye shall understand king Arthur is the man in\nthe world that she most hateth, because he is most of worship and of\nprowess of any of her blood. Also, she loveth me out of measure as\nparamour, and I her again. And if she might bring about to slay Arthur\nby her crafts, she would slay her husband king Uriens lightly, and then\nhad she me devised to be king in this land, and so to reign, and she to\nbe my queen; but that is now done, said Sir Accolon, for I am sure of\nmy death. Well, said king Arthur, I feel by you ye would have been king\nin this land. It had been great damage for to have destroyed your lord,\nsaid Arthur. It is truth, said Sir Accolon, but now I have told you\ntruth, wherefore I pray you tell me of whence ye are, and of what\ncourt? O Accolon, said king Arthur, now I let thee wit that I am king\nArthur to whom thou hast done great damage. When Accolon heard that he\ncried aloud, Fair sweet lord, have mercy on me, for I knew you not. O\nSir Accolon, said king Arthur, mercy shalt thou have, because I feel by\nthy words at this time thou knewest not my person. But I understand\nwell by thy words that thou hast agreed to the death of my person, and\ntherefore thou art a traitor; but I blame thee the less, for my sister\nMorgan le Fay by her false crafts made thee to agree and consent to her\nfalse lusts, but I shall be sore avenged upon her and I live, that all\nChristendom shall speak of it. God knoweth I have honoured her and\nworshipped her more than all my kin, and more have I trusted her than\nmine own wife, and all my kin after. Then Sir Arthur called the keepers\nof the field, and said, Sirs, come hither, for here are we two knights\nthat have fought unto a great damage unto us both, and like each one of\nus to have slain other, if it had happed so; and had any of us known\nother, here had been no battle, nor stroke stricken. Then all aloud\ncried Sir Accolon unto all the knights and men that were then there\ngathered together, and said to them in this manner: O lords, this noble\nknight that I have fought withal, the which me sore repenteth, is the\nmost man of prowess, of manhood, and of worship in the world, for it is\nhimself king Arthur, our alther liege lord, and with mishap and with\nmisadventure have I done this battle with the king and lord that I am\nholden withal.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How Arthur accorded the two brethren, and delivered the twenty\n knights, and how Sir Accolon died._\n\nThen all the people fell down on their knees, and cried king Arthur\nmercy. Mercy shall ye have, said Arthur: here may ye see what\nadventures befall oft time of errant knights, how that I have fought\nwith a knight of mine own unto my great damage and his both. But sirs,\nbecause I am sore hurt, and he both, and I had great need of a little\nrest, ye shall understand the opinion betwixt you two brethren: As to\nthee, Sir Damas, for whom I have been champion, and won the field of\nthis knight, yet will I judge because ye Sir Damas are called an\norgulous knight, and full of villainy, and not worth of prowess of your\ndeeds, therefore I will that ye give unto your brother all the whole\nmanor with the appurtenance, under this form, that Sir Ontzlake hold\nthe manor of you, and yearly to give you a palfrey to ride upon, for\nthat will become you better to ride on than upon a courser. Also I\ncharge thee, Sir Damas, upon pain of death, that thou never distress no\nknights errant that ride on their adventure. And also that thou restore\nthese twenty knights that thou hast long kept prisoners of all their\nharness that they be content for, and if any of them come to my court\nand complain of thee, by my head thou shalt die therefore. Also, Sir\nOntzlake, as to you, because ye are named a good knight, and full of\nprowess, and true and gentle in all your deeds, this shall be your\ncharge: I will give you that in all goodly haste ye come unto me and my\ncourt, and ye shall be a knight of mine, and if your deeds be\nthereafter I shall so prefer you, by the grace of God, that ye shall in\nshort time be in ease for to live as worshipfully as your brother Sir\nDamas.\u2014God thank your largeness of your goodness and of your bounty,\nand I shall be from henceforth at all times at your commandment: for,\nSir, said Sir Ontzlake, I was hurt but late with an adventurous knight\nthrough both my thighs, which grieved me sore, and else had I done this\nbattle with you. Would, said Arthur, it had been so, for then had not I\nbeen hurt as I am. I shall tell you the cause why: for I had not been\nhurt as I am had not it been mine own sword that was stolen from me by\ntreason; and this battle was ordained aforehand to have slain me, and\nso it was brought to the purpose by false treason, and by false\nenchantment. Alas, said Sir Ontzlake, that is great pity, that ever so\nnoble a man as ye are of your deeds and prowess, that any man or woman\nmight find in their hearts to work any treason against you. I shall\nreward them, said Arthur, in short time by the grace of God. Now tell\nme, said Arthur, how far am I from Camelot? Sir, ye are two days\u2019\njourney therefrom. I would fain be at some place of worship, said Sir\nArthur, that I might rest me. Sir, said Sir Ontzlake, hereby is a rich\nabbey of your elders\u2019 foundation, of Nuns, but three mile hence. So the\nking took his leave of all the people, and mounted upon horseback, and\nSir Accolon with him. And when they were come to the abbey, he let\nfetch leeches and search his wounds and Accolon\u2019s both, but Sir Accolon\ndied within four days, for he had bled so much blood that he might not\nlive, but king Arthur was well recovered. So when Accolon was dead he\nlet send him on an horse-bier with six knights unto Camelot, and said,\nBear him to my sister Morgan le Fay, and say that I send her him to a\npresent, and tell her that I have my sword Excalibur, and the scabbard.\nSo they departed with the body.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_How Morgan would have slain Sir Uriens her husband, and how Sir Uwaine\n her son saved him._\n\nThe mean while Morgan le Fay had wend king Arthur had been dead. So on\na day she espied king Uriens lay in his bed sleeping, then she called\nunto her a maiden of her counsel, and said: Go fetch me my lord\u2019s\nsword, for I saw never better time to slay him than now. O Madam, said\nthe damsel, and ye slay my lord, ye can never escape. Care not you,\nsaid Morgan le Fay, for now I see my time in the which it is best to do\nit, and therefore hie thee fast, and fetch me the sword. Then the\ndamsel departed, and found Sir Uwaine sleeping upon a bed in another\nchamber, so she went unto Sir Uwaine, and awaked him, and bad him,\nArise, and wait on my lady your mother, for she will slay the king your\nfather sleeping in his bed, for I go to fetch his sword. Well, said Sir\nUwaine, go on your way, and let me deal. Anon the damsel brought Morgan\nthe sword with quaking hands, and she lightly took the sword, and\npulled it out, and went boldly unto the bed-side, and awaited how and\nwhere she might slay him best. And as she lift up the sword to smite,\nSir Uwaine lept unto his mother, and caught her by the hand, and said,\nAh, fiend, what wilt thou do? And thou wert not my mother, with this\nsword I should smite off thy head. Ah, said Sir Uwaine, men say that\nMerlin was begotten of a devil, but I may say an earthly devil bare me.\nOh fair son Uwaine, have mercy upon me; I was tempted with a devil,\nwherefore I cry thee mercy; I will never more do so; and save my\nworship and discover me not. On this covenant, said Sir Uwaine, I will\nforgive it you, so ye will never be about to do such deeds. Nay, son,\nsaid she, and that I make you assurance.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How queen Morgan le Fay made great sorrow for the death of Accolon,\n and how she stole away the scabbard from Arthur._\n\nThen came tidings unto Morgan le Fay that Accolon was dead, and his\nbody brought unto the church, and how king Arthur had his sword again.\nBut when queen Morgan wist that Accolon was dead she was so sorrowful\nthat near her heart to burst. But because she would not it were known,\noutward she kept her countenance, and made no semblance of sorrow. But\nwell she wist, and she abode till her brother Arthur came thither,\nthere should no gold go for her life.\n\nThen she went unto queen Guenever, and asked her leave to ride into the\ncountry. Ye may abide, said queen Guenever, till your brother the king\ncome home. I may not, said Morgan le Fay, for I have such hasty tidings\nthat I may not tarry. Well, said Guenever, ye may depart when ye will.\nSo early on the morn, or it was day, she took her horse and rode all\nthat day, and most part of the night, and on the morn by noon she came\nto the same abbey of nuns, whereas lay king Arthur, and she, knowing he\nwas there, asked where he was: and they answered how he had laid him in\nhis bed to sleep, for he had had but little rest these three nights.\nWell, said she, I charge you that none of you awake him till I do. And\nthen she alight off her horse, and thought for to steal away Excalibur\nhis sword, and so she went straight unto his chamber, and no man durst\ndisobey her commandment, and there she found Arthur asleep in his bed,\nand Excalibur in his right hand naked. When she saw that, she was\npassing heavy that she might not come by the sword without she had\nawaked him, and then she wist well she had been dead. Then she took the\nscabbard, and went her way on horseback. When the king awoke and missed\nhis scabbard, he was wroth, and he asked who had been there, and they\nsaid his sister queen Morgan had been there, and had put the scabbard\nunder her mantle, and was gone. Alas, said Arthur, falsely have ye\nwatched me. Sir, said they all, we durst not disobey your sister\u2019s\ncommandment. Ah, said the king, let fetch the best horse that may be\nfound, and bid Sir Ontzlake arm him in all haste, and take another good\nhorse and ride with me. So anon the king and Ontzlake were well armed,\nand rode after this lady; and so they came by a cross, and found a\ncowherd, and they asked the poor man if there came any lady late riding\nthat way. Sir, said this poor man, right late came a lady riding with a\nforty horses, and to yonder forest she rode. Then they spurred their\nhorses and followed fast, and within awhile Arthur had a sight of\nMorgan le Fay; then he chased as fast as he might. When she espied him\nfollowing her, she rode a greater pace through the forest till she came\nto a plain. And when she saw she might not escape, she rode unto a lake\nthereby, and said, Whatsoever becometh of me, my brother shall not have\nthis scabbard. And then she let throw the scabbard in the deepest of\nthe water, so it sank, for it was heavy of gold and precious stones.\nThen she rode into a valley where many great stones were, and when she\nsaw that she must be overtaken, she shaped herself, horse and man, by\nenchantment, unto a great marble stone. Anon withal came Sir Arthur and\nSir Ontzlake, whereas the king might not know his sister and her men,\nand one knight from another. Ah, said the king, here may ye see the\nvengeance of God, and now am I sorry that this misadventure is\nbefallen. And then he looked for the scabbard, but it would not be\nfound. So he returned to the abbey there he came from. So when Arthur\nwas gone she turned all into the likeness as she and they were before,\nand said, Sirs, now may we go where we will.\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n_How Morgan le Fay saved a knight that should have been drowned, and\n how king Arthur returned home again._\n\nThen said Morgan, Saw ye Arthur my brother? Yea, said her knights,\nright well, and that ye should have found and we might have stirred\nfrom one stead, for by his warlike countenance he would have caused us\nto have fled. I believe you, said Morgan. Anon after as she rode she\nmet a knight leading another knight on his horse before him, bound hand\nand foot blindfold, to have drowned him in a fountain. When she saw\nthis knight so bound, she asked him. What will ye do with that knight?\nLady, said he, I will drown him. For what cause? she asked. For I found\nhim with my wife, and she shall have the same death anon. That were\npity, said Morgan le Fay: now what say ye, knight, is it truth that he\nsaith of you? she said to the knight that should be drowned. Nay truly,\nmadam, he saith not right of me. Of whence be ye? said Morgan le Fay,\nand of what country? I am of the court of king Arthur, and my name is\nManassen, cousin unto Accolon of Gaul. Ye say well, said she, and for\nthe love of him ye shall be delivered, and ye shall have your adversary\nin the same case ye be in. So Manassen was loosed and the other knight\nbound. And anon Manassen unarmed him, and armed himself in his harness,\nand so mounted on horseback, and the knight afore him, and so threw him\ninto the fountain and drowned him. And then he rode unto Morgan again,\nand asked her if she would anything unto king Arthur. Tell him that I\nrescued thee not for the love of him but for the love of Accolon, and\ntell him I fear him not while I can make me and them that be with me in\nlikeness of stones; and let him wit I can do much more when I see my\ntime. And so she departed into the country of Gore, and there was she\nrichly received, and made her castles and towns passing strong, for\nalways she drad much king Arthur. When the king had well rested him at\nthe abbey he rode unto Camelot, and found his queen and his barons\nright glad of his coming. And when they heard of his strange adventures\nas is afore rehearsed, they all had marvel of the falsehood of Morgan\nle Fay: many knights wished her burnt. Then came Manassen to the court\nand told the king of his adventure. Well, said the king, she is a kind\nsister, I shall so be avenged on her and I live, that all christendom\nshall speak of it. So on the morn there came a damsel from Morgan to\nthe king, and she brought with her the richest mantle that ever was\nseen in that court, for it was set as full of precious stones as one\nmight stand by another, and there were the richest stones that ever the\nking saw. And the damsel said, Your sister sendeth you this mantle, and\ndesireth that ye should take this gift of her, and in what thing she\nhath offended you she will amend it at your own pleasure. When the king\nbeheld this mantle it pleased him much, but he said but little.\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n_How the damsel of the lake saved king Arthur from a mantle which\n should have burnt him._\n\nWith that came the damsel of the lake unto the king, and said, Sir, I\nmust speak with you in private. Say on, said the king, what ye will.\nSir, said the damsel, put not on you this mantle till ye have seen\nmore, and in no wise let it not come on you, nor on no knight of yours,\ntill ye command the bringer thereof to put it upon her. Well, said king\nArthur, it shall be done as ye counsel me. And then he said unto the\ndamsel that came from his sister, Damsel, this mantle that ye have\nbrought me I will see it upon you. Sir, said she, it will not beseem me\nto wear a king\u2019s garment. By my head, said Arthur, ye shall wear it or\nit come on my back, or any man\u2019s that here is. And so the king made it\nto be put upon her, and forthwithal she fell down dead, and never more\nspake word after, and burnt to coals. Then was the king wonderly wroth,\nmore than he was toforehand, and said unto king Uriens, My sister your\nwife is alway about to betray me, and well I wot either ye, or my\nnephew your son, is of counsel with her to have me destroyed; but as\nfor you, said the king to king Uriens, I deem not greatly that ye be of\nher counsel, for Accolon confessed to me by his own mouth, that she\nwould have destroyed you as well as me, therefore I hold you excused;\nbut as for your son Sir Uwaine, I hold him suspected, therefore I\ncharge you put him out of my court. So Sir Uwaine was discharged. And\nwhen Sir Gawaine wist that, he made him ready to go with him, and said:\nWho so banisheth my cousin german shall banish me. So they two departed\nand rode into a great forest. And so they came to an abbey of monks,\nand there were well lodged. But when the king wist that Sir Gawaine was\ndeparted from the court there was made great sorrow among all the\nestates. Now, said Gaheris, Gawaine\u2019s brother, we have lost two good\nknights for the love of one. So on the morn they heard their masses in\nthe abbey, and so they rode forth till they came to a great forest;\nthen was Sir Gawaine ware in a valley by a turret, of twelve fair\ndamsels, and two knights armed on great horses, and the damsels went to\nand fro by a tree. And then was Sir Gawaine ware how there hung a white\nshield on that tree, and ever as the damsels came by it they spit upon\nit, and some threw mire upon the shield.\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n_How Sir Gawaine and Sir Uwaine met with twelve fair damsels, and how\n they complained on Sir Marhaus._\n\nThen Sir Gawaine and Sir Uwaine went and saluted them, and asked why\nthey did that despite to the shield. Sirs, said the damsels, we shall\ntell you. There is a knight in this country that owneth this white\nshield, and he is a passing good man of his hands, but he hateth all\nladies and gentlewomen, and therefore we do all this despite to the\nshield. I shall say you, said Sir Gawaine, it beseemeth evil a good\nknight to despise all ladies and gentlewomen, and peradventure though\nhe hate you he hath some cause, and peradventure he loveth in some\nother places ladies and gentlewomen, and to be loved again, and he be\nsuch a man of prowess as ye speak of. Now what is his name? Sir, said\nthey, his name is Marhaus, the king\u2019s son of Ireland. I know him well,\nsaid Sir Uwaine, he is a passing good knight as any is on live, for I\nsaw him once proved at a justs where many knights were gathered, and\nthat time there might no man withstand him. Ah! said Sir Gawaine,\ndamsels, methinketh ye are to blame, for it is to suppose he that hung\nthat shield there he will not be long therefrom, and then may those\nknights match him on horseback, and that is more your worship than\nthus; for I will abide no longer to see a knight\u2019s shield dishonoured.\nAnd therewith Sir Uwaine and Gawaine departed a little from them, and\nthen were they ware where Sir Marhaus came riding on a great horse\nstraight towards them. And when the twelve damsels saw Sir Marhaus they\nfled into the turret as they were wild, so that some of them fell by\nthe way. Then the one of the knights of the tower dressed his shield,\nand said on high, Sir Marhaus, defend thee. And so they ran together\nthat the knight brake his spear on Marhaus, and Sir Marhaus smote him\nso hard that he brake his neck and the horse\u2019s back. That saw the other\nknight of the turret, and dressed him toward Marhaus, and they met so\neagerly together that the knight of the turret was soon smitten down,\nhorse and man, stark dead.\n\n\n CHAP. XVIII.\n\n_How Sir Marhaus justed with Sir Gawaine and Sir Uwaine, and overthrew\n them both._\n\nAnd then Sir Marhaus rode unto his shield, and saw how it was defouled,\nand said, Of this despite I am a part avenged, but for her love that\ngave me this white shield I shall wear thee, and hang mine where thou\nwast: and so he hanged it about his neck. Then he rode straight unto\nSir Gawaine and to Sir Uwaine, and asked them what they did there. They\nanswered him that they came from king Arthur\u2019s court for to see\nadventures. Well, said Marhaus, here am I ready, an adventurous knight\nthat will fulfil any adventure that ye will desire. And so departed\nfrom them to fetch his range. Let him go, said Sir Uwaine unto Sir\nGawaine, for he is a passing good knight as any is living: I would not\nby my will that any of us were matched with him. Nay, said Sir Gawaine,\nnot so; it were shame to us were he not assayed, were he never so good\na knight. Well, said Sir Uwaine, I will assay him afore you, for I am\nmore weaker than ye, and if he smite me down then may ye revenge me. So\nthese two knights came together with great random, that Sir Uwaine\nsmote Sir Marhaus that his spear brast in pieces on the shield, and Sir\nMarhaus smote him so sore that horse and man he bare to the earth, and\nhurt Sir Uwaine on the left side. Then Sir Marhaus turned his horse and\nrode toward Gawaine with his spear. And when Sir Gawaine saw that, he\ndressed his shield, and they aventred their spears, and they came\ntogether with all the might of their horses, that either knight smote\nother so hard in the midst of their shields, but Sir Gawaine\u2019s spear\nbrake, but Sir Marhaus\u2019s spear held; and therewith Sir Gawaine and his\nhorse rushed down to the earth. And lightly Sir Gawaine rose upon his\nfeet, and pulled out his sword, and dressed him toward Sir Marhaus on\nfoot. And Sir Marhaus saw that, and pulled out his sword, and began to\ncome to Sir Gawaine on horseback. Sir knight, said Sir Gawaine, alight\non foot, or else I will slay thy horse. Gramercy, said Sir Marhaus, of\nyour gentleness, ye teach me courtesy, for it is not for one knight to\nbe on foot and the other on horseback. And therewith Sir Marhaus set\nhis spear against a tree and alighted, and tied his horse to a tree,\nand dressed his shield, and either came unto other eagerly, and smote\ntogether with their swords that their shields flew in cantels, and they\nbruised their helms and their hauberks, and wounded either other. But\nSir Gawaine, fro it passed nine of the clock waxed ever stronger and\nstronger, till it came to the hour of noon, and thrice his might was\nincreased. All this espied Sir Marhaus, and had great wonder how his\nmight increased, and so they wounded other passing sore. And then when\nit was past noon, and when it drew toward even-song, Sir Gawaine\u2019s\nstrength feebled and waxed passing faint, that unnethes he might dure\nany longer, and Sir Marhaus was then bigger and bigger. Sir knight,\nsaid Sir Marhaus, I have well felt that ye are a passing good knight,\nand a marvellous man of might as ever I felt any, while it lasteth, and\nour quarrels are not great, and therefore it were pity to do you hurt,\nfor I feel ye are passing feeble. Ah, said Sir Gawaine, gentle knight,\nye say the word that I should say. And therewith they took off their\nhelms and either kissed other, and there they swore together either to\nlove other as brethren. And Sir Marhaus prayed Sir Gawaine to lodge\nwith him that night. And so they took their horses and rode toward Sir\nMarhaus\u2019s house. And as they rode by the way, Sir knight, said Sir\nGawaine, I have marvel that so valiant a man as ye be love no ladies\nnor damsels. Sir, said Sir Marhaus, they name me wrongfully those that\ngive me that name, but well I wot it be the damsels of the turret that\nso name me, and other such as they be. Now shall I tell you for what\ncause I hate them. For they be sorceresses and enchanters many of them,\nand be a knight never so good of his body and full of prowess as man\nmay be, they will make him a stark coward to have the better of him,\nand this is the principal cause that I hate them; and to all good\nladies and gentlewomen I owe my service as a knight ought to do. As the\nbook rehearseth in French, there were many knights that overmatched Sir\nGawaine, for all the thrice-might that he had: Sir Launcelot de Lake,\nSir Tristram, Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Percivale, Sir Pelleas, and Sir\nMarhaus, these six knights had the better of Sir Gawaine. Then within a\nlittle while they came to Sir Marhaus\u2019s place, which was in a little\npriory, and there they alight, and ladies and damsels unarmed them and\nhastily looked to their hurts, for they were all three hurt. And so\nthey had all three good lodging with Sir Marhaus, and good cheer: for\nwhen he wist that they were king Arthur\u2019s sister\u2019s sons, he made them\nall the cheer that lay in his power. And so they sojourned there a\nseven nights, and were well eased of their wounds, and at the last\ndeparted. Now, said Sir Marhaus, we will not part so lightly, for I\nwill bring you through the forest: and rode day by day well a seven\ndays or they found any adventure. At the last they came into a great\nforest, that was named the country and forest of Arroy, and the country\nof strange adventures. In this country, said Sir Marhaus, came never\nknight since it was christened, but he found strange adventures. And so\nthey rode and came into a deep valley full of stones, and thereby they\nsaw a fair stream of water; above thereby was the head of the stream, a\nfair fountain, and three damsels sitting thereby. And then they rode to\nthem, and either saluted other, and the eldest had a garland of gold\nabout her head, and she was threescore winter of age or more, and her\nhair was white under the garland. The second damsel was of thirty\nwinter of age, with a circlet of gold about her head. The third damsel\nwas but fifteen year of age, and a garland of flowers about her head.\nWhen these knights had so beheld them, they asked them the cause why\nthey sat at that fountain. We be here, said the damsels, for this\ncause, if we may see any errant knights, to teach them unto strange\nadventures, and ye be three knights that seek adventures, and we be\nthree damsels, and therefore each one of you must choose one of us. And\nwhen ye have done so we will lead you unto three high ways, and there\neach of you shall choose a way, and his damsel with him. And this day\ntwelvemonth ye must meet here again, and God send you your lives, and\nthereto ye must plight your troth. This is well said, said Sir Marhaus.\n\n\n CHAP. XIX.\n\n_How Sir Marhaus, Sir Gawaine, and Sir Uwaine met three damsels, and\n each of them took one._\n\nNow shall every each of us choose a damsel. I shall tell you, said Sir\nUwaine: I am the youngest and most weakest of you both, therefore I\nwill have the eldest damsel, for she hath seen much and can help me\nbest when I have need, for I have most need of help of you both. Now,\nsaid Sir Marhaus, I will have the damsel of thirty winter age, for she\nfallest best to me. Well, said Sir Gawaine, I thank you, for ye have\nleft me the youngest and the fairest, and she is most liefest to me.\nThen every damsel took her knight by the reins of his bridle, and\nbrought them to the three ways, and there was their oath made to meet\nat the fountain that day twelvemonth and they were living, and so they\nkissed and departed, and every each knight set his lady behind him. And\nSir Uwaine took the way that lay west, and Sir Marhaus took the way\nthat lay south, and Sir Gawaine took the way that lay north.\n\nNow will we begin at Sir Gawaine that held that way till he came unto a\nfair manor, where dwelled an old knight and a good householder, and\nthere Sir Gawaine asked the knight if he knew any adventures in that\ncountry. I shall shew you some to-morn, said the old knight, and that\nmarvellous. So on the morn they rode into the forest of adventures till\nthey came to a lawn, and thereby they found a cross, and as they stood\nand hoved there came by them the fairest knight and the seemliest man\nthat ever they saw, making the greatest dole that ever man made. And\nthen he was ware of Sir Gawaine, and saluted him, and prayed God to\nsend him much worship. As to that, said Sir Gawaine, Gramercy! Also, I\npray to God that he send you honour and worship. Ah, said the knight, I\nmay lay that aside, for sorrow and shame cometh to me after worship.\n\n\n CHAP. XX.\n\n_How a knight and a dwarf strove for a lady._\n\nAnd therewith he passed unto the one side of the lawn. And on the other\nside Sir Gawaine saw ten knights that hoved still, and made them ready\nwith their shields and spears against that one knight that came by Sir\nGawaine. Then this one knight aventred a great spear, and one of the\nten knights encountered with him, but this woful knight smote him so\nhard that he fell over his horse tail. So this same dolorous knight\nserved them all, that at the least way he smote down horse and man, and\nall he did with one spear. And so when they were all ten on foot they\nwent to that one knight, and he stood stone still, and suffered them to\npull him down off his horse, and bound him hand and foot, and tied him\nunder the horse belly, and so led him with them. Oh, said Sir Gawaine,\nthis is a doleful sight, to see the yonder knight so to be entreated,\nand it seemeth by the knight that he suffereth them to bind him so, for\nhe maketh no resistance. No, said his host, that is truth, for and he\nwould they all were too weak so to do him. Sir, said the damsel unto\nSir Gawaine, me seemeth it were your worship to help that dolorous\nknight, for me thinketh he is one of the best knights that ever I saw.\nI would do for him, said Sir Gawaine, but it seemeth that he will have\nno help. Then said the damsel, me seemeth ye have no lust to help him.\nThus as they talked they saw a knight on that other side of the lawn,\nall armed save the head. And on the other side there came a dwarf on\nhorseback all armed save the head, with a great mouth and a short nose.\nAnd when the dwarf came nigh he said, Where is the lady should meet us\nhere? and therewithal she came forth out of the wood. And then they\nbegan to strive for the lady; for the knight said he would have her,\nand the dwarf said he would have her. Will we do well? said the dwarf;\nyonder is a knight at the cross, let us put it both upon him, and as he\ndeemeth so shall it be. I will well, said the knight; and so they went\nall three unto Sir Gawaine, and told him wherefore they strove. Well\nsirs, said he, will ye put the matter into my hand? Yea, they said\nboth. Now, damsel, said Sir Gawaine, ye shall stand betwixt them both,\nand whether ye list better to go to, he shall have you. And when she\nwas set between them both she left the knight and went to the dwarf.\nAnd the dwarf took her and went his way singing, and the knight went\nhis way with great mourning. Then came there two knights all armed, and\ncried on high, Sir Gawaine, knight of king Arthur, make thee ready in\nall haste and just with me. So they ran together that either fell down.\nAnd then on foot they drew their swords and did full actually. In the\nmeanwhile the other knight went to the damsel and asked her why she\nabode with that knight, and if ye would abide with me, I will be your\nfaithful knight. And with you will I be, said the damsel, for with Sir\nGawaine I may not find in mine heart to be with him: for now here was\none knight discomfited ten knights, and at the last he was cowardly led\naway; and therefore let us two go our way whilst they fight. And Sir\nGawaine fought with that other knight long, but at the last they\naccorded both. And then the knight prayed Sir Gawaine to lodge with him\nthat night. So as Sir Gawaine went with this knight he asked him, What\nknight is he in this country that smote down the ten knights? For when\nhe had done so manfully, he suffered them to bind him hand and foot,\nand so led him away. Ah! said the knight, that is the best knight I\ntrow in the world, and the most man of prowess, and he hath been served\nso as he was even more than ten times, and his name hight Sir Pelleas,\nand he loveth a great lady in this country, and her name is Ettard. And\nso when he loved her there was cried in this country a great justs\nthree days: and all the knights of this country were there and\ngentlewomen; and who that proved him the best knight should have a\npassing good sword and a circlet of gold, and the circlet the knight\nshould give it to the fairest lady that was at the justs. And this\nknight, Sir Pelleas, was the best knight that was there, and there were\nfive hundred knights, but there was never man that ever Sir Pelleas met\nwithal, but he struck him down, or else from his horse. And every day\nof three days he struck down twenty knights, therefore they gave him\nthe prize. And forthwithal he went there as the lady Ettard was, and\ngave her the circlet, and said openly she was the fairest lady that\nthere was, and that would he prove upon any knight that would say nay.\n\n\n CHAP. XXI.\n\n_How king Pelleas suffered himself to be taken prisoner because he\n would have a sight of his lady, and how Sir Gawaine promised him for\n to get to him the love of his lady._\n\nAnd so he chose her for his sovereign lady, and never to love other but\nher. But she was so proud that she had scorn of him, and said she would\nnever love him, though he would die for her. Wherefore all ladies and\ngentlewomen had scorn of her that she was so proud, for there were\nfairer than she, and there was none that was there but and Sir Pelleas\nwould have proffered them love, they would have loved him for his noble\nprowess. And so this knight promised the lady Ettard to follow her into\nthis country, and never to leave her till she loved him. And thus he is\nhere the most part nigh her, and lodged by a priory, and every week she\nsendeth knights to fight with him. And when he hath put them to the\nworse, then will he suffer them wilfully to take him prisoner, because\nhe would have a sight of this lady. And alway she doth him great\ndespite, for sometimes she maketh her knights to tie him to his horse\ntail, and some to bind him under the horse belly. Thus in the most\nshamefullest wise that she can think he is brought to her. And all she\ndoth it for to cause him to leave this country, and to leave his\nloving. But all this cannot make him to leave, for and he would have\nfought on foot he might have had the better of the ten knights as well\non foot as on horseback. Alas! said Sir Gawaine, it is great pity of\nhim, and after this night I will seek him to-morrow in this forest, to\ndo him all the help that I can. So on the morn Sir Gawaine took his\nleave of his host Sir Carados, and rode into the forest. And at the\nlast he met with Sir Pelleas making great moan out of measure, so each\nof them saluted other, and asked him why he made such sorrow. And as it\nis above rehearsed, Sir Pelleas told Sir Gawaine: But alway I suffer\nher knights to fare so with me as ye saw yesterday, in trust at the\nlast to win her love, for she knoweth well all her knights should not\nlightly win me and me list to fight with them to the uttermost.\nWherefore I loved her not so sore I had lever die an hundred times, and\nI might die so oft, rather than I would suffer that despite; but I\ntrust she will have pity upon me at the last, for love causeth many a\ngood knight to suffer to have his intent, but, alas! I am unfortunate.\nAnd therewith he made so great dole and sorrow that unnethe he might\nhold him on horseback. Now, said Sir Gawaine, leave your mourning, and\nI shall promise you by the faith of my body, to do all that lieth in my\npower to get you the love of your lady, and thereto I will plight you\nmy troth. Ah, said Sir Pelleas, of what court are ye? tell me, I pray\nyou, my good friend. And then Sir Gawaine said, I am of the court of\nking Arthur, and his sister\u2019s son, and king Lot of Orkney was my\nfather, and my name is Sir Gawaine. And then he said, My name is Sir\nPelleas, born in the Isles, and of many isles I am lord, and never have\nI loved lady nor damsel till now in an unhappy time; and Sir knight,\nsince ye are so nigh cousin unto king Arthur, and a king\u2019s son,\ntherefore betray me not but help me, for I may never come by her but by\nsome good knight, for she is in a strong castle here fast by within\nthis four mile, and over all this country she is lady of. And so I may\nnever come to her presence but as I suffer her knights to take me, and\nbut if I did so that I might have a sight of her, I had been dead long\nor this time, and yet fair word had I never of her, but when I am\nbrought tofore her she rebuketh me in the foulest manner. And then they\ntake my horse and harness, and put me out of the gates, and she will\nnot suffer me to eat nor drink, and always I offer me to be her\nprisoner, but that she will not suffer me, for I would desire no more\nwhat pains soever I had, so that I might have a sight of her daily.\nWell, said Sir Gawaine, all this shall I amend, and ye will do as I\nshall devise. I will have your horse and your armour, and so will I\nride to her castle, and tell her that I have slain you, and so shall I\ncome within her to cause her to cherish me, and then shall I do my true\npart that ye shall not fail to have the love of her.\n\n\n CHAP. XXII.\n\n_How Sir Gawaine came to the lady Ettard, and how Sir Pelleas found\n them sleeping._\n\nAnd therewith Sir Gawaine plight his troth unto Sir Pelleas to be true\nand faithful unto him. So each one plight their troth to other, and so\nthey changed horses and harness, and Sir Gawaine departed and came to\nthe castle whereas stood the pavilions of this lady without the gate.\nAnd as soon as Ettard had espied Sir Gawaine she fled in toward the\ncastle. Sir Gawaine spake on high, and bad her abide, for he was not\nSir Pelleas: I am another knight that hath slain Sir Pelleas. Do off\nyour helm, said the lady Ettard, that I may see your visage. And so\nwhen she saw that it was not Sir Pelleas she made him alight, and led\nhim unto her castle, and asked him faithfully whether he had slain Sir\nPelleas. And he said her yea, and told her his name was Sir Gawaine of\nthe court of king Arthur, and his sister\u2019s son. Truly, said she, that\nis great pity, for he was a passing good knight of his body, but of all\nmen on live I hated him most, for I could never be quit of him. And for\nye have slain him I shall be your lady, and to do anything that may\nplease you. So she made Sir Gawaine good cheer. Then Sir Gawaine said\nthat he loved a lady, and by no mean she would love him. She is to\nblame, said Ettard, and she will not love you, for ye that be so well\nborn a man, and such a man of prowess, there is no lady in the world\ntoo good for you. Will ye, said Sir Gawaine, promise me to do all that\nye may, by the faith of your body, to get me the love of my lady? Yea,\nsir, said she, and that I promise you by the faith of my body. Now,\nsaid Sir Gawaine, it is yourself that I love so well, therefore I pray\nyou hold your promise. I may not choose, said the lady Ettard, but if I\nshould be forsworn. And so she granted him to fulfil all his desire.\n\nSo it was then in the month of May that she and Sir Gawaine went out of\nthe castle and supped in a pavilion, and in another pavilion she laid\nher damsels, and in the third pavilion she laid part of her knights,\nfor then she had no dread of Sir Pelleas. And there Sir Gawaine abode\nwith her in that pavilion two days and two nights. And on the third day\nin the morning early Sir Pelleas armed him, for he had never slept\nsince Sir Gawaine departed from him. For Sir Gawaine had promised him,\nby the faith of his body, to come to him unto his pavilion by that\npriory within the space of a day and a night. Then Sir Pelleas mounted\nupon horseback, and came to the pavilions that stood without the\ncastle, and found in the first pavilion three knights in three beds,\nand three squires lying at their feet. Then went he to the second\npavilion and found four gentlewomen lying in four beds. And then he\nwent to the third pavilion and found Sir Gawaine with his lady Ettard,\nand when he saw that his heart well nigh burst for sorrow, and said:\nAlas! that ever a knight should be found so false. And then he took his\nhorse, and might not abide no longer for pure sorrow. And when he had\nridden nigh half a mile, he turned again and thought to slay them both:\nand when he saw them both sleeping fast, unnethe he might hold him on\nhorseback for sorrow, and said thus to himself, Though this knight be\nnever so false I will never slay him sleeping; for I will never destroy\nthe high order of knighthood. And therewith he departed again. And or\nhe had ridden half a mile he returned again, and thought then to slay\nthem both, making the greatest sorrow that ever man made. And when he\ncame to the pavilions he tied his horse to a tree, and pulled out his\nsword naked in his hand, and went to them there as they lay, and yet he\nthought it were shame to slay them sleeping, and laid the naked sword\noverthwart both their throats, and so took his horse and rode his way.\nAnd when Sir Pelleas came to his pavilions he told his knights and his\nsquires how he had sped, and said thus to them: For your true and good\nservice ye have done me I shall give you all my goods, for I will go\nunto my bed, and never arise until I am dead. And when that I am dead I\ncharge you that ye take the heart out of my body and bear it her\nbetwixt two silver dishes, and tell her how I saw her with the false\nknight Sir Gawaine. Right so Sir Pelleas unarmed himself and went unto\nhis bed, making marvellous dole and sorrow.\n\nThen Sir Gawaine and Ettard awoke out of their sleep, and found the\nnaked sword overthwart their throats. Then she knew well it was Sir\nPelleas\u2019 sword. Alas! said she to Sir Gawaine, ye have betrayed me and\nSir Pelleas both, for ye told me ye had slain him, and now I know well\nit is not so, he is on live. And if Sir Pelleas had been as uncourteous\nto you as ye have been to him, ye had been a dead knight: but ye have\ndeceived me and betrayed me falsely, that all ladies and damsels may\nbeware by you and me. And therewith Sir Gawaine made him ready and went\ninto the forest. So it happed then that the damsel of the lake Nimue\nmet with a knight of Sir Pelleas, that went on his foot in the forest\nmaking great dole, and she asked him the cause. And so the woful knight\ntold her how that his master and lord was betrayed through a knight and\na lady, and how he will never arise out of his bed till he be dead.\nBring me to him, said she, anon, and I will warrant his life, he shall\nnot die for love, and she that hath caused him so to love she shall be\nin as evil plight as he is or it be long, for it is no joy of such a\nproud lady that will have no mercy of such a valiant knight. Anon that\nknight brought her unto him. And when she saw him lie in his bed, she\nthought she saw never so likely a knight: and therewith she threw an\nenchantment upon him, and he fell on sleep. And therewhile she rode\nunto the lady Ettard, and charged no man to awake him till she came\nagain. So within two hours she brought the lady Ettard thither, and\nboth ladies found him on sleep. Lo, said the damsel of the lake, ye\nought to be ashamed for to murder such a knight. And therewith she\nthrew such an enchantment upon her that she loved him sore, that well\nnigh she was out of her mind. Alas! said the lady Ettard, how is it\nbefallen unto me that I love now him that I have most hated of any men\nalive. That is the righteous judgment of God, said the damsel. And then\nanon Sir Pelleas awaked, and looked upon Ettard. And when he saw her he\nknew her, and then he hated her more than any woman alive, and said:\nAway traitress, come never in my sight. And when she heard him say so,\nshe wept and made great sorrow out of measure.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIII.\n\n_How Sir Pelleas loved no more Ettard by means of the damsel of the\n lake, whom he loved ever after._\n\nSir knight Pelleas, said the damsel of the lake, take your horse and\ncome forth with me out of this country, and ye shall love a lady that\nshall love you. I will well, said Sir Pelleas, for this lady Ettard\nhath done me great despite and shame. And there he told her the\nbeginning and ending, and how he had purposed never to have arisen till\nthat he had been dead,\u2014and now I hate her as much as ever I loved her.\nThank me, said the damsel of the lake. Anon Sir Pelleas armed him, and\ntook his horse, and commanded his men to bring after his pavilions and\nhis stuff where the damsel of the lake would assign. So the lady Ettard\ndied for sorrow, and the damsel of the lake rejoiced Sir Pelleas, and\nloved together during their life days.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIV.\n\n_How Sir Marhaus rode with the damsel, and how he came to the duke of\n the South Marches._\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Marhaus that rode with the damsel of thirty winter\nof age southward. And so they came into a deep forest, and by fortune\nthey were nighted, and rode long in a deep way, and at the last they\ncame into a courtelage, and there they asked harbour. But the man of\nthe courtelage would not lodge them for no treaty that they could\ntreat. But thus much the good man said: And ye will take the adventure\nof your lodging, I shall bring you there ye shall be lodged. What\nadventure is that that I shall have for my lodging? said Sir Marhaus.\nYe shall wit when ye come there, said the good man. Sir, what adventure\nso it be bring me thither, I pray thee, said Sir Marhaus, for I am\nweary, my damsel and my horse. So the good man went and opened the\ngate, and within an hour he brought him unto a fair castle. And then\nthe poor man called the porter, and anon he was let into the castle,\nand so told the lord how he brought him a knight errant and a damsel\nthat would be lodged with him. Let him in, said the lord, it may happen\nhe shall repent that they took their lodging here. So Sir Marhaus was\nlet in with torch light, and there was a goodly sight of young men that\nwelcomed him. And then his horse was led into the stable, and he and\nthe damsel were brought into the hall, and there stood a mighty duke,\nand many goodly men about him. Then this lord asked him what he hight,\nand from whence he came, and with whom he dwelt. Sir, said he, I am a\nknight of king Arthur\u2019s, and knight of the Table Round, and my name is\nSir Marhaus, and born I am in Ireland. And then said the duke to him,\nThat me sore repenteth: the cause is this: for I love not thy lord, nor\nnone of thy fellows of the Table Round, and therefore ease thyself this\nnight as well as thou mayest, for as to-morn I and my six sons shall\nmatch with you. Is there no remedy but that I must have ado with you\nand your six sons at once? said Sir Marhaus. No, said the duke, for\nthis cause I made mine avow, for Sir Gawaine slew my seven sons in a\nrecounter, therefore I made mine avow that there should never knight of\nking Arthur\u2019s court lodge with me, or come there as I might have ado\nwith him, but that I would have a revenging of my sons\u2019 death. What is\nyour name? said Sir Marhaus; I require you tell me, and it please you.\nWit ye well that I am the duke of South Marches. Ah, said Sir Marhaus,\nI have heard say that ye have been a long time a great foe unto my lord\nArthur and to his knights. That shall ye feel to-morn, said the duke.\nShall I have ado with you? said Sir Marhaus. Yea, said the duke,\nthereof shalt thou not choose, and therefore take you to your chamber,\nand ye shall have all that to you belongeth. So Sir Marhaus departed,\nand was led to a chamber, and his damsel was led unto her chamber. And\non the morn the duke sent unto Sir Marhaus, and bad make him ready. And\nso Sir Marhaus arose and armed him, and then there was a mass sung\nafore him, and he brake his fast, and so mounted on horseback in the\ncourt of the castle, there they should do the battle. So there was the\nduke already on horseback, clean armed, and his six sons by him, and\nevery each had a spear in his hand, and so they encountered, where as\nthe duke and his two sons brake their spears upon him, but Sir Marhaus\nheld up his spear and touched none of them.\n\n\n CHAP. XXV.\n\n_How Sir Marhaus fought with the duke and his six sons, and made them\n to yield them._\n\nThen came the four sons by couples, and two of them brake their spears,\nand so did the other two. And all this while Sir Marhaus touched them\nnot. Then Sir Marhaus ran to the duke, and smote him with his spear\nthat horse and man fell to the earth. And so he served his sons. And\nthen Sir Marhaus alight down, and bad the duke yield him or else he\nwould slay him. And then some of his sons recovered, and would have set\nupon Sir Marhaus. Then Sir Marhaus said to the duke, Cease thy sons, or\nelse I will do the uttermost to you all. When the duke saw he might not\nescape the death, he cried to his sons, and charged them to yield them\nto Sir Marhaus. And they kneeled all down and put the pommels of their\nswords to the knight, and so he received them. And then they holp up\ntheir father, and so by their common assent promised unto Sir Marhaus\nnever to be foes unto king Arthur, and thereupon at Whitsuntide after,\nto come he and his sons, and put them in the king\u2019s grace. Then Sir\nMarhaus departed, and within two days his damsel brought him where as\nwas a great tournament that the lady de Vawse had cried. And who that\ndid best should have a rich circlet of gold worth a thousand besaunts.\nAnd there Sir Marhaus did so nobly that he was renowned, and had some\ntime down forty knights, and so the circlet of gold was rewarded him.\nThen he departed from thence with great worship. And so within seven\nnights the damsel brought him to an earl\u2019s place, his name was the earl\nFergus, that after was Sir Tristram\u2019s knight. And this earl was but a\nyoung man, and late come into his lands, and there was a giant fast by\nhim that hight Taulurd, and he had another brother in Cornwall that\nhight Taulas, that Sir Tristram slew when he was out of his mind. So\nthis earl made his complaint unto Sir Marhaus, that there was a giant\nby him that destroyed all his lands, and how he durst nowhere ride nor\ngo for him. Sir, said the knight, whether useth he to fight on\nhorseback or on foot? Nay, said the earl, there may no horse bear him.\nWell, said Sir Marhaus, then will I fight with him on foot. So on the\nmorn Sir Marhaus prayed the earl that one of his men might bring him\nwhereas the giant was, and so he was, for he saw him sit under a tree\nof holly, and many clubs of iron and gisarms about him. So this knight\ndressed him to the giant, putting his shield afore him, and the giant\ntook an iron club in his hand, and at the first stroke he clave Sir\nMarhaus\u2019s shield in two pieces. And there he was in great peril, for\nthe giant was a wily fighter, but at the last Sir Marhaus smote off his\nright arm above the elbow. Then the giant fled, and the knight after\nhim, and so he drove him into a water, but the giant was so high that\nhe might not wade after him. And then Sir Marhaus made the earl\nFergus\u2019s man to fetch him stones, and with those stones the knight gave\nthe giant many sore knocks, till at the last he made him fall down into\nthe water, and so was he there dead. Then Sir Marhaus went unto the\ngiant\u2019s castle, and there he delivered twenty-four ladies and twelve\nknights out of the giant\u2019s prison, and there he had great riches\nwithout number, so that the days of his life he was never poor man.\nThen he returned to the earl Fergus, the which thanked him greatly and\nwould have given him half his lands, but he would none take. So Sir\nMarhaus dwelled with the earl nigh half a year, for he was sore bruised\nwith the giant, and at the last he took his leave. And as he rode by\nthe way, he met with Sir Gawaine and Sir Uwaine, and so by adventure he\nmet with four knights of king Arthur\u2019s court, the first was Sir\nSagramore le Desirous, Sir Osanna, Sir Dodinas le Savage, and Sir Felot\nof Listinoise; and there Sir Marhaus with one spear smote down these\nfour knights, and hurt them sore. So he departed to meet at his day\nafore set.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVI.\n\n_How Sir Uwaine rode with the damsel of threescore years of age, and\n how he got the prize at tourneying._\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Uwaine, that rode westward with his damsel of\nthreescore winter of age, and she brought him there as was a tournament\nnigh the march of Wales. And at that tournament Sir Uwaine smote down\nthirty knights, therefore was given him the prize, and that was a\ngerfalcon and a white steed trapped with cloth of gold. So then Sir\nUwaine did many strange adventures by the means of the old damsel, and\nso she brought him unto a lady that was called the lady of the Rock,\nthe which was much courteous. So there were in the country two knights\nthat were brethren, and they were called two perilous knights, the one\nhight Sir Edward of the Red Castle, and the other hight Sir Hue of the\nRed Castle. And these two brethren had disherited the lady of the Rock\nof a barony of lands by their extortion. And as this knight was lodged\nwith this lady, she made her complaint to him of these two knights.\nMadam, said Sir Uwaine, they are to blame, for they do against the high\norder of knighthood and the oath that they made; and if it like you I\nwill speak with them, because I am a knight of king Arthur\u2019s, and I\nwill entreat them with fairness; and if they will not, I shall do\nbattle with them, and in the defence of your right. Gramercy! said the\nlady, and there as I may not acquit you, God shall. So on the morn the\ntwo knights were sent for, that they should come hither to speak with\nthe lady of the Rock. And wit ye well they failed not, for they came\nwith an hundred horse. But when this lady saw them in this manner so\nbig, she would not suffer Sir Uwaine to go out to them upon no surety\nnor for no fair language, but she made him speak with them over a\ntower. But finally these two brethren would not be entreated, and\nanswered that they would keep that they had. Well, said Sir Uwaine,\nthen will I fight with one of you, and prove that ye do this lady\nwrong. That will we not, said they, for and we do battle we two will\nfight with one knight at once, and therefore if ye will fight so we\nwill be ready at what hour ye will assign. And if ye win us in battle\nthe lady shall have her lands again. Ye say well, said Sir Uwaine,\ntherefore make you ready, so that ye be here tomorn in the defence of\nthe lady\u2019s right.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVII.\n\n_How Sir Uwaine fought with two knights, and overcame them._\n\nSo was there agreement made on both parties, that no treason should be\nwrought on neither party. So then the knights departed and made them\nready. And that night Sir Uwaine had great cheer. And on the morn he\narose early and heard mass, and brake his fast, and so he rode unto the\nplain without the gates, where hoved the two brethren abiding him. So\nthey rode together passing sore, that Sir Edward and Sir Hue brake\ntheir spears upon Sir Uwaine. And Sir Uwaine smote Sir Edward that he\nfell over his horse, and yet his spear brast not. And then he spurred\nhis horse and came upon Sir Hue, and overthrew him; but they soon\nrecovered and dressed their shields and drew their swords, and bad Sir\nUwaine alight and do his battle to the uttermost. Then Sir Uwaine\navoided his horse suddenly, and put his shield afore him and drew his\nsword, and so they dressed together, and either gave other such\nstrokes, and there these two brethren wounded Sir Uwaine passing\ngrievously, that the lady of the Rock wend he should have died. And\nthus they fought together five hours as men enraged out of reason. And\nat the last Sir Uwaine smote Sir Edward upon the helm such a stroke\nthat his sword carved unto his collarbone, and then Sir Hue abated his\ncourage. But Sir Uwaine pressed fast to have slain him. That saw Sir\nHue: he kneeled down and yielded him to Sir Uwaine. And he of his\ngentleness received his sword, and took him by the hand and went into\nthe castle together. Then the lady of the Rock was passing glad, and\nthe other brother made great sorrow for his brother\u2019s death. Then the\nlady was restored of all her lands, and Sir Hue was commanded to be at\nthe court of king Arthur at the next feast of Pentecost. So Sir Uwaine\ndwelt with the lady nigh half a year, for it was long or he might be\nwhole of his great hurts. And so when it drew nigh the term-day that\nSir Gawaine, Sir Marhaus, and Sir Uwaine should meet at the cross way,\nthen every knight drew him thither to hold his promise that they had\nmade. And Sir Marhaus and Sir Uwaine brought their damsels with them,\nbut Sir Gawaine had lost his damsel, as it is afore rehearsed.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVIII.\n\n_How at the year\u2019s end all three knights with their three damsels met\n at the fountain._\n\nRight so at the twelvemonth\u2019s end they met all three knights at the\nfountain, and their damsels. But the damsel that Sir Gawaine had could\nsay but little worship of him. So they departed from the damsels and\nrode through a great forest, and there they met with a messager that\ncame from king Arthur, that had sought them well nigh a twelvemonth\nthroughout all England, Wales, and Scotland, and charged if ever he\nmight find Sir Gawaine and Sir Uwaine, to bring them to the court\nagain. And then were they all glad. And so prayed they Sir Marhaus to\nride with them to the king\u2019s court. And so within twelve days they came\nto Camelot; and the king was passing glad of their coming, and so was\nall the court. Then the king made them to swear upon a book to tell him\nall their adventures that had befallen them that twelvemonth, and so\nthey did. And there was Sir Marhaus well known; for there were knights\nthat he had matched aforetime, and he was named one of the best knights\nliving. Against the feast of Pentecost came the damsel of the lake, and\nbrought with her Sir Pelleas. And at that high feast there was great\njusting of knights, and of all the knights that were at that justs Sir\nPelleas had the prize, and Sir Marhaus was named the next; but Sir\nPelleas was so strong that there might but few knights sit him a buffet\nwith a spear. And at that next feast Sir Pelleas and Sir Marhaus were\nmade knights of the Table Round, for there were two sieges void, for\ntwo knights were slain that twelvemonth; and great joy had king Arthur\nof Sir Pelleas and of Sir Marhaus. But Pelleas loved never after Sir\nGawaine, but as he spared him for the love of king Arthur. But ofttimes\nat justs and tournaments Sir Pelleas quit Sir Gawaine, for so it\nrehearseth in the book of French. So Sir Tristram many days after\nfought with Sir Marhaus in an island, and there they did a great\nbattle, but at the last Sir Tristram slew him. So Sir Tristram was\nwounded that hardly he might recover, and lay at a nunnery half a year.\nAnd Sir Pelleas was a worshipful knight, and was one of the four that\nachieved the Sangreal. And the damsel of the lake made by her means\nthat never he had ado with Sir Launcelot de Lake, for where Sir\nLauncelot was at any justs or any tournament she would not suffer him\nto be there that day, but if it were on the side of Sir Launcelot.\n\n Explicit liber quartus. Incipit liber quintus.\n\n\n\n\n The Fifth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How twelve aged ambassadors of Rome came to king Arthur to demand\n truage for Britain._\n\nWhen king Arthur had after long war rested, and held a royal feast and\nTable Round with his allies of kings, princes, and noble knights all of\nthe Round Table, there came into his hall, he sitting in his throne\nroyal, twelve ancient men, bearing each of them a branch of olive in\ntoken that they came as ambassadors and messagers from the emperor\nLucius, which was called at that time Dictator or Procuror of the\nPublic Weal of Rome. Which said messagers, after their entering and\ncoming into the presence of king Arthur, did to him their obeisance in\nmaking to him reverence, and said to him in this wise: The high and\nmighty emperor Lucius sendeth to the king of Britain greeting,\ncommanding thee to acknowledge him for thy lord, and to send him the\ntruage due of this realm unto the empire, which thy father and other\ntofore thy predecessors have paid as is of record, and thou as rebel\nnot knowing him as thy sovereign, withholdest and retainest contrary to\nthe statutes and decrees made by the noble and worthy Julius Cesar,\nconqueror of this realm, and first emperor of Rome. And if thou refuse\nhis demand and commandment, know thou for certain that he shall make\nstrong war against thee, thy realms and lands, and shall chastise thee\nand thy subjects, that it shall be ensample perpetual unto all kings\nand princes for to deny their truage unto that noble empire which\ndomineth upon the universal world. Then when they had shewed the effect\nof their message, the king commanded them to withdraw them, and said he\nshould take advice of council, and give to them an answer. Then some of\nthe young knights hearing this their message would have run on them to\nhave slain them, saying that it was a rebuke unto all the knights there\nbeing present to suffer them to say so to the king. And anon the king\ncommanded that none of them upon pain of death to missay them, nor do\nthem any harm, and commanded a knight to bring them to their lodging,\nand see that they have all that is necessary and requisite for them\nwith the best cheer, and that no dainty be spared, for the Romans be\ngreat lords, and though their message please me not, nor my court, yet\nI must remember mine honour. After this the king let call all his lords\nand knights of the Round Table to council upon this matter, and desired\nthem to say their advice. Then Sir Cador of Cornwall spake first, and\nsaid, Sir, this message liketh me well, for we have many days rested us\nand have been idle, and now I hope ye shall make sharp war on the\nRomans, where I doubt not we shall get honour. I believe well, said\nArthur, that this matter pleaseth thee well, but these answers may not\nbe answered, for the demand grieveth me sore; for truly I will never\npay no truage to Rome, wherefore I pray you to counsel me. I have\nunderstood that Belinus and Brenius, kings of Britain, have had the\nempire in their hands many days, and also Constantine the son of queen\nHeleine, which is an open evidence that we owe no tribute to Rome, but\nof right we that be descended of them have right to claim the title of\nthe empire.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How the kings and lords promised to king Arthur aid and help against\n the Romans._\n\nThen answered king Anguish of Scotland, Sir, ye ought of right to be\nabove all other kings, for unto you is none like nor pareil in all\nChristendom, of knighthood ne of dignity, and I counsel you never to\nobey the Romans, for when they reigned on us they distressed our\nelders, and put this land to great extortions and tallages, wherefore I\nmake here mine avow to avenge me on them; and for to strengthen your\nquarrel I shall furnish twenty thousand good men of war, and wage them\non my costs, which shall await on you with myself, when it shall please\nyou. And the king of Little Britain granted him to the same thirty\nthousand; wherefore king Arthur thanked them. And then every man agreed\nto make war, and to aid after their power; that is to wit, the lord of\nWest Wales promised to bring thirty thousand men, and Sir Uwaine, Sir\nIder his son, with their cousins, promised to bring thirty thousand.\nThen Sir Launcelot with all other promised in likewise every man a\ngreat multitude. And when king Arthur understood their courages and\ngood wills he thanked them heartily, and after let call the ambassadors\nto hear their answer. And in presence of all his lords and knights he\nsaid to them in this wise: I will that ye return unto your lord and\nProcuror of the Common Weal for the Romans, and say to him, Of his\ndemand and commandment I set nothing, and that I know of no truage, ne\ntribute, that I owe to him, ne to none earthly prince, Christian ne\nheathen; but I pretend to have and occupy the sovereignty of the\nempire, wherein I am entitled by the right of my predecessors, sometime\nkings of this land; and say to him that I am deliberated, and fully\nconcluded, to go with mine army with strength and power unto Rome by\nthe grace of God to take possession in the empire, and subdue them that\nbe rebel. Wherefore I command him, and all them of Rome, that\nincontinent they make to me their homage, and to acknowledge me for\ntheir emperor and governor, upon pain that shall ensue. And then he\ncommanded his treasurer to give them great and large gifts, and to pay\nall their expenses, and assigned Sir Cador to convey them out of the\nland. And so they took their leave and departed, and took their\nshipping at Sandwich, and passed forth by Flanders, Almain, the\nmountains, and all Italy, until they came unto Lucius. And after the\nreverence made, they made relation of their answer, like as ye tofore\nhave heard. When the emperor Lucius had well understood their credence,\nhe was sore moved as he had been all enraged, and said: I had supposed\nthat Arthur would have obeyed to my commandment, and have served you\nhimself, as him well beseemed or any other king to do. O sir, said one\nof the senators, let be such vain words, for we let you wit that I and\nmy fellows were full sore afeard to behold his countenance; I fear me\nye have made a rod for yourself, for he intendeth to be lord of this\nempire, which sore is to be doubted if he come, for he is all another\nman than ye ween, and holdeth the most noble court of the world; all\nother kings ne princes may not compare unto his noble maintenance. On\nnew year\u2019s day we saw him in his estate, which was the royalest that\never we saw, for he was served at his table with nine kings and the\nnoblest fellowship of other princes, lords, and knights, that be in the\nworld, and every knight approved and like a lord, and holdeth Table\nRound: and in his person the most manly man that liveth, and is like to\nconquer all the world, for unto his courage it is too little: wherefore\nI advise you to keep well your marches and straits in the mountains;\nfor certainly he is a lord to be doubted. Well, said Lucius, before\nEaster I suppose to pass the mountains and so forth into France, and\nthere bereave him his lands with Genoese and other mighty warriors of\nTuscany and Lombardy. And I shall send for them all that be subjects\nand allied to the empire of Rome to come to mine aid. And forthwith\nsent old wise knights unto these countries following: first, to Ambage\nand Arrage, to Alisandrie, to Inde, to Hermonie where as the river of\nEuphrates runneth into Asia, to Affrike, and Europe the large, to\nErtaine and Elamie, to Arabie, Egypt, and to Damaske, to Damiete and\nCayer, to Capadoce, to Tarce, Turkey, Pounce, and Pampoille, to Surrie,\nand Galacie. And all these were subject to Rome, and many more, as\nGreece, Cyprus, Macedone, Calabre, Cateland, Portingale, with many\nthousands of Spaniards. Thus all these kings, dukes, and admirals\nassembled about Rome with sixteen kings at once, with great multitude\nof people. When the emperor understood their coming, he made ready his\nRomans and all the people between him and Flanders. Also he had gotten\nwith him fifty giants which had been born of fiends; and they were\nordained to guard his person, and to break the front of the battle of\nking Arthur.\n\nAnd thus he departed from Rome, and came down the mountains for to\ndestroy the lands that king Arthur had conquered, and came to Cologne,\nand besieged a castle thereby, and won it soon, and stuffed it with two\nhundred Saracens or infidels, and after destroyed many fair countries\nwhich Arthur had won of king Claudas. And thus Lucius came with all his\nhost which were spread out threescore mile in breadth, and commanded\nthem to meet with him in Burgoyne, for he purposed to destroy the realm\nof Little Britain.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How king Arthur held a parliament at York, and how he ordained how the\n realm should be governed in his absence._\n\nNow leave we of Lucius the emperor, and speak we of king Arthur, that\ncommanded all them of his retinue to be ready at the utas of Hilary for\nto hold a parliament at York. And at that parliament was concluded to\narrest all the navy of the land, and to be ready within fifteen days at\nSandwich; and there he shewed to his army how he purposed to conquer\nthe empire which he ought to have of right. And there he ordained two\ngovernors of this realm, that is to say, Sir Bawdwin of Britain, for to\ncounsel to the best, and Sir Constantine, son to Sir Cador of Cornwall,\nwhich after the death of Arthur was king of this realm. And in the\npresence of all his lords he resigned the rule of the realm and\nGuenever his queen unto them, wherefore Sir Launcelot was wroth, for he\nleft Sir Tristram with king Mark for the love of Beale Isould. Then the\nqueen Guenever made great sorrow for the departing of her lord and\nother, and swooned in such wise that the ladies bare her into her\nchamber. Thus the king with his great army departed, leaving the queen\nand realm in the governance of Sir Bawdwin and Constantine. And when he\nwas on his horse he said with an high voice, If I die in this journey,\nI will that Sir Constantine be mine heir and king crowned of this realm\nas next of my blood. And after departed and entered into the sea at\nSandwich with all his army, with a great multitude of ships, galleys,\ncogges, and dromons, sailing on the sea.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How king Arthur being shipped and lying in his cabin had a marvellous\n dream, and of the exposition thereof._\n\nAnd as the king lay in his cabin in the ship, he fell in a slumbering,\nand dreamed a marvellous dream: him seemed that a dreadful dragon did\ndrown much of his people, and he came flying out of the west, and his\nhead was enamelled with azure, and his shoulders shone as gold, his\nbelly like mails of a marvellous hue, his tail full of tatters, his\nfeet full of fine sable, and his claws like fine gold; and an hideous\nflame of fire flew out of his mouth, like as the land and water had\nflamed all of fire. After him seemed there came out of the orient a\ngrimly boar all black in a cloud, and his paws as big as a post; he was\nrugged looking roughly, he was the foulest beast that ever man saw, he\nroared and romed so hideously that it were marvel to hear. Then the\ndreadful dragon advanced him, and came in the wind like a falcon,\ngiving great strokes on the boar, and the boar hit him again with his\ngrisly tusks that his breast was all bloody, and that the hot blood\nmade all the sea red of his blood. Then the dragon flew away all on an\nheight, and came down with such a swough, and smote the boar on the\nridge, which was ten foot large from the head to the tail, and smote\nthe boar all to powder, both flesh and bones, that it flittered all\nabroad on the sea. And therewith the king awoke anon and was sore\nabashed of this dream; and sent anon for a wise philosopher, commanding\nto tell him the signification of his dream. Sir, said the philosopher,\nthe dragon that thou dreamedst of betokeneth thine own person that\nsailest here, and the colour of his wings be thy realms that thou hast\nwon, and his tail which is all to-tattered signifieth the noble knights\nof the Round Table. And the boar that the dragon slew coming from the\nclouds, betokeneth some tyrant that tormenteth the people, or else thou\nart like to fight with some giant thyself, being horrible and\nabominable, whose peer ye saw never in your days; wherefore of this\ndreadful dream doubt thee nothing, but as a conqueror come forth\nthyself. Then after this soon they had sight of land, and sailed till\nthey arrived at Barflete in Flanders, and when they were there he found\nmany of his great lords ready as they had been commanded to await upon\nhim.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How a man of the country told to him of a marvellous giant, and how he\n fought and conquered him._\n\nThen came to him an husbandman of the country, and told him how there\nwas in the country of Constantine, beside Britany, a great tyrant which\nhad slain, murdered, and devoured much people of the country, and had\nbeen sustained seven year with the children of the commons of that\nland, insomuch, that all the children be all slain and destroyed, and\nnow late he hath taken the duchess of Britany as she rode with her\ntrain, and hath led her to his lodging which is in a mountain, for to\nkeep her to her life\u2019s end; and many people followed her, more than\nfive hundred, but all they might not rescue her, but they left her\nshrieking and crying lamentably, wherefore I suppose that he hath slain\nher. She was wife unto thy cousin Sir Howell, whom we call full nigh of\nthy blood. Now as thou art a rightful king have pity on this lady, and\nrevenge us all as thou art a noble conqueror. Alas! said king Arthur,\nthis is a great mischief, I had lever than the best realm that I have\nthat I had been a furlong way tofore him, for to have rescued that\nlady. Now fellow, said king Arthur, canst thou bring me there as this\ngiant haunteth? Yea, Sir, said the good man, lo yonder where as thou\nseest those two great fires, there thou shalt find him, and more\ntreasure than I suppose is in all France. When the king had understood\nthis piteous case he returned into his tent.\n\nThen he called unto him Sir Kay and Sir Bedivere, and commanded them\nsecretly to make ready horse and harness for himself and them twain,\nfor after even-song he would ride on pilgrimage with them two only unto\nSaint Michael\u2019s mount. And then anon he made him ready and armed him at\nall points, and took his horse and his shield. And so they three\ndeparted thence, and rode forth as fast as ever they might till that\nthey came unto the foot of that mount. And there they alighted, and the\nking commanded them to tarry there, for he would himself go up into\nthat mount. And so he ascended up into that hill till he came to a\ngreat fire, and there he found a careful widow wringing her hands and\nmaking great sorrow, sitting by a grave new made. And then king Arthur\nsaluted her, and demanded of her wherefore she made such lamentation:\nto whom she answered and said, Sir knight, speak soft, for yonder is a\ndevil: if he hear thee speak he will come and destroy thee; I hold thee\nunhappy; what dost thou here in this mountain? for if ye were such\nfifty as ye be, ye were not able to make resistance against this devil:\nhere lieth a duchess dead, the which was the fairest of all the world,\nwife to Sir Howell duke of Britany; he hath murdered her. Dame, said\nthe king, I come from the noble conqueror king Arthur, for to treat\nwith that tyrant for his liege people. Fie upon such treaties, said the\nwidow, he setteth not by the king, nor by no man else. But and if thou\nhave brought Arthur\u2019s wife, dame Guenever, he shall be gladder than\nthou hadst given to him half France. Beware, approach him not too nigh,\nfor he hath vanquished fifteen kings, and hath made him a coat full of\nprecious stones, embroidered with their beards, which they sent him to\nhave his love for salvation of their people at this last Christmas. And\nif thou wilt, speak with him at yonder great fire at supper. Well, said\nArthur, I will accomplish my message for all your fearful words; and\nwent forth by the crest of that hill, and saw where he sat at supper\ngnawing on a limb of a man, baking his broad limbs by the fire, and\nthree fair damsels turning three spits, whereon were broached twelve\nyoung children late born, like young birds. When king Arthur beheld\nthat piteous sight he had great compassion on them so that his heart\nbled for sorrow, and hailed him saying in this wise: He that all the\nworld wieldeth, give thee short life and shameful death, and the devil\nhave thy soul! Why hast thou murdered these young innocent children,\nand murdered this duchess? Therefore arise and dress thee, thou\nglutton; for this day shalt thou die of my hand. Then the glutton anon\nstart up and took a great club in his hand, and smote at the king that\nhis coronal fell to the earth. And the king hit him again that he\ncarved his belly that his entrails fell down to the ground. Then the\ngiant threw away his club, and caught the king in his arms that he\ncrushed his ribs. Then the three maidens kneeled down and called to\nChrist for help and comfort of Arthur. And then Arthur weltered and\nwrung that he was other while under and another time above. And so\nweltering and wallowing they rolled down the hill till they came to the\nsea mark, and ever as they so weltered Arthur smote him with his\ndagger, and it fortuned they came to the place here as the two knights\nwere and kept Arthur\u2019s horse. Then when they saw the king fast in the\ngiant\u2019s arms they came and loosed him. And then the king commanded Sir\nKay to smite off the giant\u2019s head, and to set it upon a truncheon of a\nspear and bear it to Sir Howell, and tell him that his enemy was slain,\nand after let this head be bound to a barbican that all the people may\nsee and behold it; and go ye two up to the mountain and fetch me my\nshield, my sword, and the club of iron. And as for the treasure take ye\nit, for ye shall find there goods out of number. So I have the kirtle\nand the club I desire no more. This was the fiercest giant that ever I\nmet with, save one in the mount of Arabe which I overcame, but this was\ngreater and fiercer. Then the knights fetched the club and the kirtle,\nand some of the treasure they took to themselves, and returned again to\nthe host. And anon this was known through all the country, wherefore\nthe people came and thanked the king. And he said again, Give the\nthanks to God, and part the goods among you. And after that, king\nArthur said and commanded his cousin Howell that he should ordain for a\nchurch to be builded on the same hill, in the worship of Saint Michael.\nAnd on the morn the king removed with his great battle and came into\nChampayne, and in a valley, and there they pight their tents. And the\nking being set at his dinner, there came in two messagers, of whom the\none was marshal of France, and said to the king that the emperor was\nentered into France and had destroyed a great part, and was in\nBurgoyne, and had destroyed and made great slaughter of people, and\nburnt towns and boroughs; wherefore, if thou come not hastily, they\nmust yield up their bodies and goods.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How king Arthur sent Sir Gawaine and others to Lucius, and how they\n were assailed and escaped with worship._\n\nThen the king did do call Sir Gawaine, Sir Bors, Sir Lionel, and Sir\nBedivere, and commanded them to go straight to Sir Lucius, and say ye\nto him that hastily he remove out of my land. And if he will not, bid\nhim make him ready to battle, and not distress the poor people. Then\nanon these noble knights dressed them to horseback. And when they came\nto the green wood, they saw many pavilions set in a meadow, of silk of\ndivers colours, beside a river, and the emperor\u2019s pavilion was in the\nmiddle with an eagle displayed above. To the which tent our knights\nrode toward, and ordained Sir Gawaine and Sir Bors to do the message,\nand left in a bushment Sir Lionel and Sir Bedivere. And then Sir\nGawaine and Sir Bors did their message, and commanded Lucius in\nArthur\u2019s name to avoid his land, or shortly to address him to battle.\nTo whom Lucius answered and said: Ye shall return to your lord and say\nye to him, that I shall subdue him and all his lands. Then Sir Gawaine\nwas wroth, and said, I had lever than all France fight against thee.\nAnd so had I, said Sir Bors, lever than all Britany or Burgoyne. Then a\nknight named Sir Gainus, high cousin to the emperor, said, Lo, how\nthese Britons be full of pride and boast, and they brag as though they\nbare up all the world. Then Sir Gawaine was sore grieved with these\nwords, and pulled out his sword and smote off his head. And therewith\nturned their horses and rode over waters and through woods till they\ncame to their bushment where as Sir Lionel and Sir Bedivere were\nhoving. The Romans followed fast after on horseback and on foot over a\nchampaign unto a wood; then Sir Bors turned his horse and saw a knight\ncome fast on, whom he smote through the body with a spear, that he fell\ndead down to the earth. Then came Caliburn, one of the strongest of\nPavie, and smote down many of Arthur\u2019s knights. And when Sir Bors saw\nhim do so much harm, he addressed toward him, and smote him through the\nbreast, that he fell down dead to the earth. Then Sir Feldenak thought\nto revenge the death of Gainus upon Sir Gawaine, but Sir Gawaine was\nware thereof, and smote him on the head, which stroke stinted not till\nit came to his breast. And then he returned and came to his fellows in\nthe bushment. And there was a recounter, for the bushment brake on the\nRomans, and slew and hewed down the Romans, and forced the Romans to\nflee and return; whom the noble knights chased unto their tents. Then\nthe Romans gathered more people, and also footmen came on, and there\nwas a new battle, and so much people that Sir Bors and Sir Berel were\ntaken. But when Sir Gawaine saw that, he took with him Sir Idrus the\ngood knight, and said he would never see king Arthur but if he rescued\nthem, and pulled out Galatine his good sword, and followed them that\nled those two knights away, and he smote him that led Sir Bors, and\ntook Sir Bors from him, and delivered him unto his fellows. And Sir\nIdrus in like wise rescued Sir Berel. Then began the battle to be\ngreat, that our knights were in great jeopardy, wherefore Sir Gawaine\nsent to king Arthur for succour, and that he hie him, for I am sore\nwounded, and that our prisoners may pay good out of number. And the\nmessager came to the king, and told him his message. And anon the king\ndid do assemble his army, but anon or he departed the prisoners were\ncome, and Sir Gawaine and his fellows gat the field and put the Romans\nto flight, and after returned and came with their fellowship in such\nwise that no man of worship was lost of them, save that Sir Gawaine was\nsore hurt. Then the king did do ransack his wounds, and comforted him.\nAnd thus was the beginning of the first day\u2019s fighting of the Britons\nand Romans. And there were slain of the Romans more than ten thousand,\nand great joy and mirth was made that night in the host of king Arthur.\nAnd on the morn he sent all the prisoners into Paris, under the guard\nof Sir Launcelot, with many knights, and of Sir Cador.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How Lucius sent certain spies in a bushment for to have taken his\n knights being prisoners, and how they were letted._\n\nNow turn we to the emperor of Rome which espied that these prisoners\nshould be sent to Paris, and anon he sent to lie in a bushment certain\nknights and princes with sixty thousand men for to rescue his knights\nand lords that were prisoners. And so on the morn as Sir Launcelot and\nSir Cador, chieftains and governors of all them that conveyed the\nprisoners, as they should pass through a wood, Sir Launcelot sent\ncertain knights to espy if any were in the woods to let them. And when\nthe said knights came into the wood, anon they espied and saw the great\nenbushment, and returned and told Sir Launcelot that there lay in await\nfor them threescore thousand Romans. And then Sir Launcelot with such\nknights as he had, and men of war to the number of ten thousand, put\nthem in array, and met with them, and fought with them manly, and slew\nand cut to pieces many of the Romans, and slew many knights and\nadmirals of the party of the Romans and Saracens: there was slain the\nking of Lyly and three great lords, Alakuke, Herawd, and Heringdale.\nBut Sir Launcelot fought so nobly that no man might endure a stroke of\nhis hand, but where he came he shewed his prowess and might, for he\nslew down right on every side. And the Romans and Saracens fled from\nhim as the sheep from the wolf or from the lion, and put them all that\nabode alive to flight. And so long they fought that tidings came to\nking Arthur, and anon he made him ready and came to the battle, and saw\nhis knights how they had vanquished the battle: he embraced them knight\nby knight in his arms, and said: Ye be worthy to bear all your honour\nand worship, there was never king save myself that had so noble\nknights. Sir, said Cador, there was none of us failed other, but of the\nprowess and manhood of Sir Launcelot were more than wonder to tell, and\nalso of his cousins which did this day many noble feats of war. And\nalso Sir Cador told who of his knights were slain, as Sir Berel and\nother Sir Moris and Sir Maurel, two good knights. Then the king wept,\nand dried his eyes with a kerchief, and said, Your courage had near\nhand destroyed you, for though ye had returned again ye had lost no\nworship; for I call it folly, knights to abide when they be\nover-matched. Nay, said Sir Launcelot and the other, for once shamed\nmay never be recovered.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How a senator told to Lucius of their discomfiture, and also of the\n great battle between Arthur and Lucius._\n\nNow leave we king Arthur and his noble knights which had won the field,\nand had brought their prisoners to Paris, and speak we of a senator\nwhich escaped from the battle, and came to Lucius the emperor, and said\nto him, Sir emperor, I advise thee to withdraw thee: what doest thou\nhere? thou shalt win nothing in these marches but great strokes out of\nall measure. For this day one of Arthur\u2019s knights was worth in the\nbattle an hundred of ours. Fie on thee, said Lucius, thou speakest\ncowardly, for thy words grieve me more than all the loss that I had\nthis day. And anon he sent forth a king, which hight Sir Leomie, with a\ngreat army, and bad him hie him fast tofore, and he would follow\nhastily after. King Arthur was warned privily, and sent his people to\nSessoyne, and took up the towns and castles from the Romans. Then the\nking commanded Sir Cador to take the rereward, and to take with him\ncertain knights of the Round Table,\u2014and Sir Launcelot, Sir Bors, Sir\nKay, Sir Marrok, with Sir Marhaus, shall await on our person. Thus king\nArthur distributed his host in divers parts, to the end that his\nenemies should not escape. When the emperor was entered into the vale\nof Sessoyne, he might see where king Arthur was embattled and his\nbanner displayed: and he was beset round about with his enemies, that\nneeds he must fight or yield him, for he might not flee, but said\nopenly unto the Romans, Sirs, I admonish you that this day ye fight and\nacquit you as men, and remember how Rome domineth, and is chief and\nhead over all the earth and universal world, and suffer not these\nBritons this day to abide against us. And therewith he did command his\ntrumpets blow the bloody sounds, in such wise that the ground trembled\nand shook. Then the battles approached, and shove and shouted on both\nsides, and great strokes were smitten on both sides, many men\noverthrown, hurt, and slain; and great valiances, prowesses, and feats\nof war were that day shewed, which were over long to recount the noble\nfeats of every man, for they should contain a whole volume. But in\nespecial king Arthur rode in the battle, exhorting his knights to do\nwell, and himself did as nobly with his hands as was possible a man to\ndo; he drew out Excalibur his sword, and awaited ever where as the\nRomans were thickest and most grieved his people; and anon he addressed\nhim on that part, and hewed and slew down right, and rescued his\npeople, and he slew a great giant named Galapas, which was a man of an\nhuge quantity and height, he shorted him and smote off both his legs by\nthe knees, saying, Now art thou better of a size to deal with than thou\nwere; and after smote off his head. There Sir Gawaine fought nobly, and\nslew three admirals in that battle. And so did all the knights of the\nRound Table. Thus the battle between king Arthur and Lucius the emperor\nendured long. Lucius had on his side many Saracens which were slain.\nAnd thus the battle was great, and oftsides that one party was at a\nvantage, and anon at a disadvantage, which endured so long till at the\nlast king Arthur espied where Lucius the emperor fought and did wonder\nwith his own hands. And anon he rode to him, and either smote other\nfiercely: and at the last Lucius smote Arthur thwart the visage, and\ngave him a large wound. And when king Arthur felt himself hurt anon he\nsmote him again with Excalibur, that it cleft his head from the summit\nof his head, and stinted not till it came to his breast. And then the\nemperor fell down dead, and there ended his life. And when it was known\nthat the emperor was slain, anon all the Romans with all their host put\nthem to flight; and king Arthur with all his knights followed the\nchase, and slew down right all them that they might attain. And thus\nwas the victory given to king Arthur, and the triumph. And there were\nslain on the part of Lucius more than an hundred thousand. And after,\nking Arthur did do ransack the dead bodies, and did do bury them that\nwere slain of his retinue, every man according to the state and degree\nthat he was of. And them that were hurt he let the surgeons do search\ntheir hurts and wounds, and commanded to spare no salves nor medicines\ntill they were whole.\n\nThen the king rode straight to the place where the emperor Lucius lay\ndead, and with him he found slain the Sowdan of Surrey, the king of\nEgypt and the king of Ethiope, which were two noble kings, with\nseventeen other kings of divers regions, and also sixty senators of\nRome, all noble men, whom the noble king Arthur did do balm and gum\nwith many good gums aromatic, and after did do cere them in sixty fold\nof cered cloth of Sendal, and laid them in chests of lead, because they\nshould not chafe nor savour; and upon all these bodies their shields\nwith their arms and banners were set, to the end they should be known\nof what country they were. And after, he found three senators that were\nonlive, to whom he said, For to save your lives I will that ye take\nthese dead bodies, and carry them with you unto great Rome, and present\nthem to the Potestate on my behalf, shewing him my letters, and tell\nthem that I in my person shall hastily be at Rome. And I suppose the\nRomans shall be ware how they shall demand any tribute of me. And I\ncommand you to say when ye shall come to Rome to the Potestate, and all\nthe Council and Senate, that I send to them these dead bodies for the\ntribute that they have demanded. And if they be not content with these,\nI shall pay more at my coming, for other tribute owe I none, nor none\nother will I pay. And me thinketh this sufficeth for Britain, Ireland,\nand all Almaine, with Germany. And furthermore I charge you to say to\nthem that I command them upon pain of their heads never to demand\ntribute ne tax of me ne of my lands.\n\nThen with this charge and commandment the three senators aforesaid\ndeparted with all the said dead bodies lying, the body of Lucius in a\ncar covered with the arms of the empire all alone, and after alway two\nbodies of kings in a chariot, and then the bodies of the senators after\nthem, and so went toward Rome, and shewed their legation and message to\nthe Potestate and Senate, recounting the battle done in France, and how\nthe field was lost, and much people and innumerable slain. Wherefore\nthey advised them in no wise to move no more war against that noble\nconqueror, Arthur;\u2014for his might and prowess is most to be doubted,\nseeing the noble kings, and great multitude of knights of the Round\nTable, to whom none earthly prince may compare.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How Arthur, after he had achieved the battle against the Romans,\n entered into Almaine, and so into Italy._\n\nNow turn we unto king Arthur and his noble knights, which, after the\ngreat battle achieved against the Romans, entered into Loraine,\nBrabant, and Flanders, and thence returned into high Almaine, and so\nover the mountains into Lombardy, and after into Tuscany, wherein was a\ncity which in no wise would yield themselves nor obey, wherefore king\nArthur besieged it, and lay long about it, and gave many assaults to\nthe city. And they within defended them valiantly. Then, on a time, the\nking called Sir Florence, a knight, and said to him they lacked\nvictual, and not far from hence be great forests and great woods,\nwherein be many of mine enemies with much cattle: I will that thou make\nthee ready, and go thither in foraging, and take with thee Sir Gawaine\nmy nephew, Sir Wisshard, Sir Clegis, Sir Cleremond, and the captain of\nCardiff, with other, and bring with you all the beasts that ye there\ncan get. And anon these knights made them ready, and rode over holts\nand hills, through forests and woods, till they came into a fair meadow\nfull of fair flowers and grass. And there they rested them and their\nhorses all that night. And in the springing of the day in the next morn\nSir Gawaine took his horse and stole away from his fellows to seek some\nadventures. And anon he was ware of a man armed, walking his horse\neasily by a wood\u2019s side, and his shield laced to his shoulder, sitting\non a strong courser, without any man saving a page bearing a mighty\nspear. The knight bare in his shield three griffons of gold in sable\ncarbuncle the chief of silver. When Sir Gawaine espied this gay knight\nhe fewtred his spear, and rode straight to him, and demanded him from\nwhence that he was. That other answered and said he was of Tuscany, and\ndemanded of Sir Gawaine, What profferest thou proud knight so boldly?\nHere gettest thou no prey: thou mayest prove what thou wilt, for thou\nshalt be my prisoner or thou depart. Then said Gawaine, Thou vauntest\nthee greatly, and speakest proud words; I counsel thee for all thy\nboast that thou make thee ready, and take thy gear to thee, tofore\ngreater grief fall to thee.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_Of a battle done by Gawaine against a Saracen, which after was yielden\n and became Christian._\n\nThen they took their spears, and ran each at other with all the might\nthey had, and smote each other through their shields into their\nshoulders, wherefore anon they pulled out their swords, and smote great\nstrokes, that the fire sprang out of their helms. Then Sir Gawaine was\nall abashed, and with Galatine, his good sword, he smote through shield\nand thick hauberk made of thick mails, and all to-rushed and brake the\nprecious stones, and made him a large wound, that men might see both\nliver and lung. Then groaned that knight, and addressed him to Sir\nGawaine, and with an awk stroke gave him a great wound, and cut a vein,\nwhich grieved Sir Gawaine sore, and he bled sore. Then the knight said\nto Sir Gawaine, Bind thy wound or thy bleeding change, for thou\nbe-bleedest all thy horse and thy fair arms; for all the barbers of\nBritain can not stanch thy blood; for whosoever is hurt with this\nblade, he shall never be stanched of bleeding. Then answered Gawaine,\nIt grieveth me but little; thy great words shall not fear me nor lessen\nmy courage, but thou shalt suffer teen and sorrow or we depart: but\ntell me in haste who may stanch my bleeding? That may I do, said the\nknight, if I will, and so I will if thou wilt succour and aid me, that\nI may be christened and believe on God, and thereof I require thee of\nthy manhood, and it shall be great merit for thy soul. I grant, said\nGawaine, so God help me, to accomplish all thy desire: but first tell\nme what thou soughtest here thus alone, and of what land and liegiance\nthou art. Sir, he said, my name is Priamus, and a great prince is my\nfather, and he hath been rebel unto Rome, and over ridden many of their\nlands. My father is lineally descended of Alexander and of Hector by\nright line. And duke Joshua and Maccab\u00e6us were of our lineage. I am\nright inheritor of Alexandria and Africa, and all the out isles, yet\nwill I believe on thy Lord that thou believest on; and for thy labour I\nshall give thee treasure enough. I was so elate and haughty in my\nheart, that I thought no man my peer, nor to me semblable. I was sent\ninto this war with sevenscore knights, and now I have encountered with\nthee which hast given to me of fighting my fill; wherefore sir knight I\npray thee to tell me what thou art? I am no knight, said Gawaine, I\nhave been brought up in the guardrobe with the noble king Arthur many\nyears, for to take heed to his armour and his other array, and to point\nhis paltocks that belong to himself. At Yule last he made me yeoman,\nand gave to me horse and harness and an hundred pound in money: and if\nfortune be my friend I doubt not but to be well advanced and holpen by\nmy liege lord. Ah, said Priamus, if his knaves be so keen and fierce,\nhis knights be passing good. Now, for the king\u2019s love of heaven,\nwhether thou be a knave or a knight, tell thou me thy name. By heaven,\nsaid Sir Gawaine, now will I say thee sooth: my name is Sir Gawaine,\nand known I am in his court and in his chamber, and one of the knights\nof the Round Table: he dubbed me a duke with his own hand. Therefore\ngrudge not if this grace is to me fortuned; it is the goodness of God\nthat lent to me my strength. Now am I better pleased, said Priamus,\nthan if thou hadst given me all the province, and Paris the rich. I had\nlever to have been torn with wild horses, than any varlet had won such\npraise, or any page or pricker should have had prize on me. But now,\nsir knight, I warn thee that hereby is a duke of Loraine with all his\narmy, and the noblest men of Dolphine, and lords of Lombardy, with the\ngarrison of Godard, and Saracens of Southland, that numbered sixty\nthousand of good men of arms; wherefore, but if we hie us hence, it\nwill harm us both, for we be sore hurt, never like to recover. But take\nheed to my page that he no horn blow, for if he do, there be hoving\nhere fast by an hundred good knights, awaiting on my person, and if\nthey take thee there shall no ransom of gold ne silver acquit thee.\nThen Sir Gawaine rode over a water for to save him, and the knight\nfollowed him, and so rode forth till they came to his fellows which\nwere in the meadow, where they had been all the night. Anon as Sir\nWisshard was ware of Sir Gawaine and saw that he was hurt, he ran to\nhim sorrowfully weeping, and demanded of him who had so hurt him. And\nGawaine told how he had fought with that man, and each of them had hurt\nother, and how he had salves to heal them; but I can tell you other\ntidings, that soon we shall have ado with many enemies. Then Sir\nPriamus and Sir Gawaine alighted, and let their horses graze in the\nmeadow, and unarmed them, and then the blood ran freshly from their\nwounds. And Priamus took from his page a phial full of the four waters\nthat came out of Paradise, and with certain balm anointed their wounds,\nand washed them with that water, and within an hour after they were\nboth as whole as ever they were. And then with a trumpet were they all\nassembled to council, and there Priamus told unto them what lords and\nknights had sworn to rescue him, and that without fail they should be\nassailed with many thousands, wherefore he counselled them to withdraw\nthem. Then Sir Gawaine said, it were great shame to them to avoid\nwithout any strokes; wherefore I advise to take our arms, and to make\nus ready to meet with these Saracens and misbelieving men, and with the\nhelp of God we shall overthrow them, and have a fair day on them. And\nSir Florence shall abide still in this field to keep the post as a\nnoble knight, and we shall not forsake yonder fellows. Now, said\nPriamus, cease your words, for I warn you ye shall find in yonder woods\nmany perilous knights: they will put forth beasts to call you on: they\nbe out of number, and ye are not past seven hundred, which be over few\nto fight with so many. Nevertheless, said Sir Gawaine, we shall once\nencounter them and see what they can do, and the best shall have the\nvictory.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How the Saracens came out of a wood for to rescue their beasts, and of\n a great battle._\n\nThen Sir Florence called to him Sir Floridas with an hundred knights,\nand drove forth the herd of beasts. Then followed him seven hundred men\nof arms, and Sir Ferant of Spain on a fair steed came springing out of\nthe woods, and came to Sir Florence, and asked him why he fled. Then\nSir Florence took his spear, and rode against him, and smote him in the\nforehead and brake his neck bone. Then all the other were moved, and\nthought to avenge the death of Sir Ferant, and smote in among them, and\nthere was great fight, and many slain and laid down to ground, and Sir\nFlorence with his hundred knights always kept the post, and fought\nmanly. Then when Priamus the good knight perceived the great fight, he\nwent to Sir Gawaine and bad him that he should go and succour his\nfellowship, which were sore bested with their enemies. Sir, grieve you\nnot, said Sir Gawaine, for their honour shall be theirs: I shall not\nonce move my horse to themward but if I see more than there be, for\nthey be strong enough to match them. And with that he saw an earl\ncalled Sir Ethelwold and the duke of Dutchmen come leaping out of a\nwood, with many thousands, and Priamus\u2019s knights, and came straight\nunto the battle. Then Sir Gawaine comforted his knights, and bad them\nnot be abashed, for all shall be ours. Then they began to gallop, and\nmet with their enemies: there were men slain and overthrown on every\nside. Then thrust in among them the knights of the Table Round, and\nsmote down to the earth all them that withstood them, insomuch that\nthey made them to recoil and flee. Truly, said Sir Gawaine, this\ngladdeth my heart, for now be they less in number by twenty thousand.\nThen entered into the battle Jubance a giant, and fought and slew\ndownright, and distressed many of our knights, among whom was slain Sir\nGherard, a knight of Wales. Then our knights took heart to them, and\nslew many Saracens. And then came in Sir Priamus with his pennon, and\nrode with the knights of the Round Table, and fought so manfully that\nmany of their enemies lost their lives. And there Sir Priamus slew the\nMarquis of Moises land. And Sir Gawaine with his fellows so quit them\nthat they had the field, but in that fight was Sir Chestelaine, a child\nand ward of Sir Gawaine, slain, wherefore was much sorrow made, and his\ndeath was soon avenged. Thus was the battle ended, and many lords of\nLombardy and Saracens left dead in the field.\n\nThen Sir Florence and Sir Gawaine harboured surely their people, and\ntook great plenty of cattle, of gold and silver and great treasure and\nriches, and returned unto king Arthur, which lay still at the siege.\nAnd when they came to the king they presented their prisoners, and\nrecounted their adventures, and how they had vanquished their enemies.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How Sir Gawaine returned to king Arthur with his prisoners, and how\n the king won a city, and how he was crowned emperor._\n\nNow thanked be God, said the noble king Arthur. But what manner man is\nhe that standeth by himself? he seemeth no prisoner. Sir, said Gawaine,\nthis is a good man of arms; he hath matched me, but he is yielden unto\nGod and to me for to become Christian: had not he been we should never\nhave returned, wherefore I pray you that he may be baptized, for their\nliveth not a nobler man nor better knight of his hands. Then the king\nlet him anon be christened, and did do call him his first name Priamus,\nand made him a duke and knight of the Table Round. And then anon the\nking let do cry assault to the city, and there was rearing of ladders,\nbreaking of walls, and the ditch filled, that men with little pain\nmight enter into the city. Then came out a duchess, and Clarisin the\ncountess, with many ladies and damsels, and kneeling before king Arthur\nrequired him for the love of God to receive the city and not to take it\nby assault, for then should many guiltless be slain. Then the king\navailed his visor with a meek and noble countenance, and said, Madam,\nthere shall none of my subjects misdo you nor your maidens, nor to none\nthat to you belong, but the duke shall abide my judgment. Then anon the\nking commanded to leave the assault; and anon the duke\u2019s eldest son\nbrought out the keys, and kneeling, delivered them to the king, and\nbesought him of grace: and the king seized the town by assent of his\nlords, and took the duke and sent him to Dover, there for to abide\nprisoner the term of his life, and assigned certain rents for the dower\nof the duchess and for her children. Then he made lords to rule those\nlands, and laws, as a lord ought to do in his own country. And after he\ntook his journey toward Rome, and sent Sir Floris and Sir Floridas\ntofore with five hundred men of arms, and they came to the city of\nUrbine, and laid there a bushment as them seemed most best for them,\nand rode tofore the town, where anon issued out much people and\nskirmished with the fore riders. Then brake out the bushment, and won\nthe bridge, and after the town, and set upon the walls the king\u2019s\nbanner. Then came the king upon a hill, and saw the city and his banner\non the walls, by the which he knew that the city was won. And anon he\nsent and commanded that none of his liege men should misuse no lady,\nwife, nor maid: and when he came into the city he passed to the castle,\nand comforted them that were in sorrow, and ordained there a captain, a\nknight of his own country. And when they of Milan heard that the same\ncity was won, they sent to king Arthur great sums of money, and\nbesought him as their lord to have pity on them, promising to be his\nsubjects for ever, and yield to him homage and fealty for the lands of\nPleasance and Pavia, Petersaint, and the port of Tremble, and to give\nhim yearly a million of gold all his lifetime. Then he rideth into\nTuscany, and winneth towns and castles, and wasted all in his way that\nto him will not obey, and so to Spolute and Viterbe: and from thence he\nrode into the vale of Vicecount among the vines. And from thence he\nsent to the senators to wit whether they would know him for their lord.\nBut soon after on a Saturday came unto king Arthur all the senators\nthat were left on live, and the noblest cardinals that then dwelled in\nRome, and prayed him of peace, and proffered him full large, and\nbesought him as governor to give licence for six weeks, for to assemble\ntogether all the Romans, and then to crown him emperor with crism, as\nit belongeth to so high a state. I assent, said the king, like as ye\nhave devised, and at Christmas there to be crowned, and to hold my\nRound Table with my knights as me liketh. And then the senators made\nthings ready for his enthronization. And at the day appointed, as the\nromance telleth, he came into Rome, and was crowned emperor by the\nPope\u2019s hand with all the royalty that could be made, and sojourned\nthere a time, and established all his lands from Rome unto France, and\ngave lands and realms unto his servants and knights, to every each\nafter his desert, in such wise that none complained, rich nor poor. And\nhe gave to Sir Priamus the duchy of Loraine; and he thanked him, and\nsaid that he would serve him the days of his life: and after made dukes\nand earls, and made every man rich. Then after this all his knights and\nlords and all the great men of estate assembled them afore him, and\nsaid: Blessed be God, your war is finished, and your conquest achieved,\ninsomuch that we know none so great nor mighty that dare make war\nagainst you: wherefore we beseech you to return homeward and give us\nlicence to go home to our wives, from whom we have been long, and to\nrest us, for your journey is finished with honour and worship. Then\nsaid the king, Ye say truth, and for to tempt God it is no wisdom, and\ntherefore make you ready and return we into England. Then was there\ntrussing of harness and baggage, and great carriage. And after licence\ngiven, he returned and commanded that no man in pain of death should\nrob nor take victual, nor other thing by the way, but that he should\npay therefore. And thus he came over the sea, and landed at Sandwich,\nagainst whom queen Guenever his wife came and met him: and he was nobly\nreceived of all his commons in every city and burgh, and great gifts\npresented to him at his home coming, to welcome him with.\n\nThus endeth the fyfthe booke of the conqueste that kynge Arthur hadde\n ageynste Lucius the Emperoure of Rome, and here foloweth the syxth\n book, which is of syr Launcelot du lake.\n\n\n\n\n The Sixth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot and Sir Lionel departed from the court for to seek\n adventures, and how Sir Lionel left him sleeping, and was taken._\n\nSoon after that king Arthur was come from Rome into England, then all\nthe knights of the Table Round resorted unto the king, and made many\njusts and tournaments; and some there were that were but knights which\nincreased so in arms and worship that they passed all their fellows in\nprowess and noble deeds, and that was well proved on many. But in\nespecial it was proved on Sir Launcelot du Lake; for in all tournaments\nand justs and deeds of arms, both for life and death, he passed all\nother knights, and at no time he was never overcome but if it were by\ntreason or enchantment. So Sir Launcelot increased so marvellously in\nworship and honour; therefore he is the first knight that the French\nbook maketh mention of after king Arthur came from Rome. Wherefore\nqueen Guenever had him in great favour above all other knights, and in\ncertain he loved the queen again above all other ladies and damsels all\nhis life, and for her he did many deeds of arms, and saved her from the\nfire through his noble chivalry. Thus Sir Launcelot rested him long\nwith play and game. And then he thought himself to prove himself in\nstrange adventures: then he bad his nephew Sir Lionel for to make him\nready, for we two will seek adventures. So they mounted on their\nhorses, armed at all rights, and rode into a deep forest, and so into a\ndeep plain. And then the weather was hot about noon, and Sir Launcelot\nhad great lust to sleep. Then Sir Lionel espied a great apple tree that\nstood by an hedge, and said, Brother, yonder is a fair shadow, there\nmay we rest us and our horses. It is well said, fair brother, said Sir\nLauncelot, for this seven year I was not so sleepy as I am now. And so\nthey there alighted, and tied their horses unto sundry trees, and so\nSir Launcelot laid him down under an apple tree, and his helm he laid\nunder his head. And Sir Lionel waked while he slept. So Sir Launcelot\nwas asleep passing fast. And in the meanwhile there came three knights\nriding, as fast fleeing as ever they might ride. And there followed\nthem three but one knight. And when Sir Lionel saw him, him thought he\nsaw never so great a knight nor so well faring a man, neither so well\napparelled unto all rights. So within a while this strong knight had\novertaken one of these knights, and there he smote him to the cold\nearth that he lay still. And then he rode unto the second knight, and\nsmote him so that man and horse fell down. And then straight to the\nthird knight he rode, and he smote him behind his horse tail a spear\u2019s\nlength. And then he alight down, and reined his horse on the bridle,\nand bound all the three knights fast with the reins of their own\nbridles. When Sir Lionel saw him do thus, he thought to assay him, and\nmade him ready, and stilly and privily he took his horse, and thought\nnot for to awake Sir Launcelot. And when he was mounted upon his horse\nhe overtook this strong knight and bad him turn: and the other smote\nSir Lionel so hard that horse and man he bare to the earth, and so he\nalight down and bound him fast, and threw him overthwart his own horse,\nand so he served them all four, and rode with them away to his own\ncastle. And when he came there, he made unarm them, and beat them with\nthorns all naked, and after put them in a deep prison where there were\nmany more knights that made great dolour.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How Sir Ector followed for to seek Sir Launcelot, and how he was taken\n by Sir Turquine._\n\nWhen Sir Ector de Maris wist that Sir Launcelot was past out of the\ncourt to seek adventures he was wroth with himself, and made him ready\nto seek Sir Launcelot, and as he had ridden long in a great forest, he\nmet with a man that was like a forester. Fair fellow, said Sir Ector,\nknowest thou in this country any adventures that be here nigh hand?\nSir, said the forester, this country know I well, and hereby within\nthis mile is a strong manor, and well dyked, and by that manor, on the\nleft hand, there is a fair ford for horses to drink of, and over that\nford there groweth a fair tree, and thereon hangeth many fair shields\nthat wielded sometime good knights: and at the hole of the tree hangeth\na bason of copper and laton, and strike upon that bason with the butt\nof thy spear thrice, and soon after thou shalt hear new tidings, and\nelse hast thou the fairest grace that many a year had ever knight that\npassed through this forest. Gramercy, said Sir Ector, and departed and\ncame to the tree, and saw many fair shields, and among them he saw his\nbrother\u2019s shield, Sir Lionel, and many more that he knew that were his\nfellows of the Round Table, the which grieved his heart, and he\npromised to revenge his brother. Then anon Sir Ector beat on the bason\nas he were wood, and then he gave his horse drink at the ford: and\nthere came a knight behind him and bad him come out of the water and\nmake him ready; and Sir Ector anon turned him shortly, and in fewter\ncast his spear, and smote the other knight a great buffet that his\nhorse turned twice about. This was well done, said the strong knight,\nand knightly thou hast stricken me: and therewith he rushed his horse\non Sir Ector and caught him under his right arm, and bare him clean out\nof the saddle, and rode with him away into his own hall, and threw him\ndown in the midst of the floor. The name of this knight was Sir\nTurquine. Then he said unto Sir Ector, For thou hast done this day more\nunto me than any knight did these twelve years, now will I grant thee\nthy life, so thou wilt be sworn to be my prisoner all thy life days.\nNay, said Sir Ector, that will I never promise thee, but that I will do\nmine advantage. That me repenteth, said Sir Turquine. And then he made\nto unarm him, and beat him with thorns all naked, and after put him\ndown in a deep dungeon, where he knew many of his fellows. But when Sir\nEctor saw Sir Lionel, then made he great sorrow. Alas, brother, said\nSir Ector, where is my brother Sir Launcelot? Fair brother, I left him\non sleep when that I from him went, under an apple tree, and what is\nbecome of him I cannot tell you. Alas, said the knights, but Sir\nLauncelot help us we may never be delivered, for we know now no knight\nthat is able to match our master Turquine.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How four queens found Sir Launcelot sleeping, and how by enchantment\n he was taken and led into a castle._\n\nNow leave we these knights prisoners, and speak we of Sir Launcelot du\nLake that lieth under the apple tree sleeping. Even about the noon\nthere came by him four queens of great estate; and, for the heat of the\nsun should not annoy them, there rode four knights about them and bare\na cloth of green silk on four spears, betwixt them and the sun, and the\nqueens rode on four white mules.\n\nThus as they rode they heard by them a great horse grimly neigh, and\nthen were they ware of a sleeping knight that lay all armed under an\napple tree; anon as these queens looked on his face they knew that it\nwas Sir Launcelot. Then they began for to strive for that knight; every\none said she would have him to her love. We shall not strive, said\nMorgan le Fay, that was king Arthur\u2019s sister; I shall put an\nenchantment upon him that he shall not awake in six hours, and then I\nwill lead him away unto my castle, and when he is surely within my hold\nI shall take the enchantment from him, and then let him choose which of\nus he will have for his love. So this enchantment was cast upon Sir\nLauncelot, and then they laid him upon his shield, and bare him so on\nhorseback betwixt two knights, and brought him unto the castle Chariot,\nand there they laid him in a chamber cold, and at night they sent unto\nhim a fair damsel with his supper ready dight. By that the enchantment\nwas past, and when she came she saluted him, and asked him what cheer?\nI cannot say, fair damsel, said Sir Launcelot, for I wot not how I came\ninto this castle but it be by an enchantment. Sir, said she, ye must\nmake good cheer, and if ye be such a knight as is said ye be, I shall\ntell you more tomorn by prime of the day. Gramercy, fair damsel, said\nSir Launcelot, of your good will I require you. And so she departed.\nAnd there he lay all that night without comfort of any body.\n\nAnd on the morn early came these four queens, passingly well beseen,\nall they bidding him good morn, and he them again. Sir knight, the four\nqueens said, thou must understand thou art our prisoner, and we here\nknow thee well, that thou art Sir Launcelot du Lake, king Ban\u2019s son.\nAnd truly we understand your worthiness that thou art the noblest\nknight living; and, as we know well, there can no lady have thy love\nbut one, and that is queen Guenever, and now thou shalt lose her for\never, and she thee, and therefore thee behoveth now to choose one of us\nfour. I am the queen Morgan le Fay, queen of the land of Gore, and here\nis the queen of Northgalis, and the queen of Eastland, and the queen of\nthe Out Isles; now choose ye one of us which thou wilt have to thy love\nfor thou mayst not choose or else in this prison to die. This is an\nhard case, said Sir Launcelot, that either I must die or else choose\none of you, yet had I lever to die in this prison with worship, than to\nhave one of you to my love maugre my head. And therefore ye be\nanswered, for I will have none of you, for ye be false enchantresses.\nAnd as for my lady dame Guenever, were I at my liberty as I was, I\nwould prove it on you or upon yours, that she is the truest lady unto\nher lord living. Well, said the queens, is this your answer, that you\nwill refuse us? Yea, on my life, said Sir Launcelot, refused ye be of\nme. So they departed and left him there alone that made great sorrow.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot was delivered by the mean of a damsel._\n\nRight so at the noon came the damsel unto him with his dinner, and\nasked him what cheer? Truly, fair damsel, said Sir Launcelot, in my\nlife days never so ill. Sir, she said, that me repenteth, but and ye\nwill be ruled by me I shall help you out of this distress, and ye shall\nhave no shame nor villainy, so that ye hold me a promise. Fair damsel I\nwill grant you, and sore I am of these queens sorceresses afeard, for\nthey have destroyed many a good knight. Sir, said she, that is sooth,\nand for the renown and bounty they hear of you they would have your\nlove, and, sir, they say your name is Sir Launcelot du Lake, the flower\nof knights, and they be passing wroth with you that ye have refused\nthem. But sir, and ye would promise me for to help my father on Tuesday\nnext coming, that hath made a tournament betwixt him and the king of\nNorthgalis, (for the last Tuesday past my father lost the field through\nthree knights of king Arthur\u2019s court,) and if ye will be there upon\nTuesday next coming and help my father, tomorn ere prime, by the grace\nof God, I shall deliver you clean. Fair maiden, said Sir Launcelot,\ntell me what is your father\u2019s name, and then shall I give you an\nanswer. Sir knight, she said, my father is king Bagdemagus, that was\nfoul rebuked at the last tournament. I know your father well, said Sir\nLauncelot, for a noble king, and a good knight, and by the faith of my\nbody, ye shall have my body ready to do your father and you service at\nthat day. Sir, she said, gramercy, and to-morn await ye be ready\nbetimes, and I shall be she that shall deliver you, and take you your\narmour and your horse, shield and spear: and hereby, within this ten\nmile, is an abbey of white monks, there I pray you that ye me abide,\nand thither shall I bring my father unto you. All this shall be done,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, as I am true knight. And so she departed, and came\non the morn early, and found him ready. Then she brought him out of\ntwelve locks, and brought him unto his armour, and when he was armed\nclean, she brought him until his own horse, and lightly he saddled him,\nand took a great spear in his hand, and so rode forth, and said, Fair\ndamsel I shall not fail you by the grace of God. And so he rode into a\ngreat forest all that day, and never could find no high way, and so the\nnight fell on him, and then was he ware in a valley of a pavilion of\nred sendal. By my faith, said Sir Launcelot, in that pavilion will I\nlodge all this night. And so there he alight down, and tied his horse\nto the pavilion, and there he unarmed him, and there he found a bed,\nand laid him therein and he fell on sleep heavily.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How a knight found Sir Launcelot lying in his bed, and how Sir\n Launcelot fought with the knight._\n\nThen within an hour there came the knight to whom belonged the\npavilion, and so he laid him down beside Sir Launcelot. And when Sir\nLauncelot felt him, he started out of the bed lightly, and the other\nknight after him, and either of them gat their swords in their hands,\nand out at the pavilion door went the knight of the pavilion, and Sir\nLauncelot followed him, and there, by a little slake, Sir Launcelot\nwounded him sore nigh unto the death. And then he yielded him unto Sir\nLauncelot, and so he granted him, so that he would tell him why he came\ninto the bed. Sir, said the knight, the pavilion is mine own, and there\nthis night would I have slept, and now I am likely to die of this\nwound. That me repenteth, said Sir Launcelot, of your hurt; but I was\nadread of treason, for I was late beguiled; and therefore come on your\nway into your pavilion, and take your rest, and as I suppose I shall\nstanch your blood. So they went both into the pavilion, and anon Sir\nLauncelot stanched his blood.\n\nTherewithal came the knight\u2019s lady, which was a passing fair lady. And\nwhen she espied that her lord Belleus was so sore wounded, she cried\nout on Sir Launcelot, and made great dole out of measure. Peace my lady\nand my love, said Belleus, for this knight is a good man, and a knight\nadventurous; and there he told her all the cause how he was wounded;\nand when that I yielded me unto him, he left me goodly and hath\nstanched my blood. Sir, said the lady, I require thee tell me what\nknight ye be, and what is your name? Fair lady, said he, my name is Sir\nLauncelot du Lake. So me thought ever by your speech, said the lady,\nfor I have seen you oft or this, and I know you better than ye ween.\nBut now and ye would promise me of your courtesy, for the harms that ye\nhave done to me and to my lord Belleus, that when he cometh unto\nArthur\u2019s court for to cause him to be made knight of the Round Table,\nfor he is a passing good man of arms, and a mighty lord of lands of\nmany out isles. Fair lady, said Sir Launcelot, let him come unto the\ncourt the next high feast, and look that ye come with him, and I shall\ndo my power, and ye prove you doughty of your hands, that ye shall have\nyour desire. So thus within awhile as they thus talked, the night\npassed, and the day shone, and then Sir Launcelot armed him, and took\nhis horse, and they taught him to the abbey, and thither he rode within\nthe space of two hours.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot was received of king Bagdemagus\u2019s daughter, and he\n made his complaint to her father._\n\nAnd soon as Sir Launcelot came within the abbey yard the daughter of\nking Bagdemagus heard a great horse go on the pavement. And she then\narose and went unto a window, and there she saw Sir Launcelot, and anon\nshe made men fast to take his horse from him and let lead him into a\nstable, and himself was led into a fair chamber, and unarmed him, and\nthe lady sent him a long gown, and anon she came herself. And then she\nmade Launcelot passing good cheer, and she said he was the knight in\nthe world was most welcome to her. Then in all haste she sent for her\nfather Bagdemagus that was within twelve mile of that abbey, and afore\neven he came with a fair fellowship of knights with him. And when the\nking was alight off his horse he went straight unto Sir Launcelot\u2019s\nchamber, and there he found his daughter, and then the king embraced\nSir Launcelot in his arms, and either made other good cheer. Anon Sir\nLauncelot made his complaint unto the king how he was betrayed, and how\nhis brother Sir Lionel was departed from him he wist not where, and how\nhis daughter had delivered him out of prison,\u2014therefore while I live I\nshall do her service and all her kindred. Then am I sure of your help,\nsaid the king, on Tuesday next coming. Yea, sir, said Sir Launcelot, I\nshall not fail you, for so I have promised my lady your daughter. But\nsir, what knights been they of my lord Arthur\u2019s, that were with the\nking of Northgalis? And the king said it was Sir Mador de la Porte, and\nSir Mordred, and Sir Gahalatine, that all for-fared my knights, for\nagainst them three I nor my knights might bear no strength. Sir, said\nSir Launcelot, as I hear say that the tournament shall be within this\nthree mile of this abbey, ye shall send unto me three knights of yours\nsuch as ye trust, and look that the three knights have all white\nshields, and I also, and no painture on the shields, and we four will\ncome out of a little wood in the midst of both parties, and we shall\nfall in the front of our enemies and grieve them that we may; and thus\nshall I not be known what knight I am. So they took their rest that\nnight, and this was on the Sunday. And so the king departed, and sent\nunto Sir Launcelot three knights, with the four white shields.\n\nAnd on the Tuesday they lodged them in a little leaved wood beside\nthere the tournament should be. And there were scaffolds and holes that\nlords and ladies might behold and to give the prize. Then came into the\nfield the king of Northgalis with eightscore helms. And then the three\nknights of Arthur stood by themselves. Then came into the field king\nBagdemagus with fourscore of helms. And then they fewtred their spears,\nand came together with a great dash, and there were slain of knights,\nat the first recounter, twelve of king Bagdemagus\u2019s party, and six of\nthe king of Northgalis\u2019 party, and king Bagdemagus\u2019s party was far set\naback.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot behaved him in a tournament, and how he met with Sir\n Turquine leading away Sir Gaheris._\n\nWith that came Sir Launcelot du Lake, and he thrust in with his spear\nin the thickest of the press, and there he smote down with one spear\nfive knights, and of four of them he brake their backs. And in that\nthrong he smote down the king of Northgalis, and brake his thigh in\nthat fall. All this doing of Sir Launcelot saw the three knights of\nArthur. Yonder is a shrewd guest, said Sir Mador de la Porte, therefore\nhave here once at him. So they encountered, and Sir Launcelot bare him\ndown horse and man, so that his shoulder went out of joint. Now\nbefalleth it to me to just, said Mordred, for Sir Mador hath a sore\nfall. Sir Launcelot was ware of him, and gat a great spear in his hand,\nand met him, and Sir Mordred brake a spear upon him, and Sir Launcelot\ngave him such a buffet that the bow of his saddle brake, and so he flew\nover his horse tail, that his helm went into the earth a foot and more,\nthat nigh his neck was broken, and there he lay long in a swoon. Then\ncame in Sir Gahalatine with a spear, and Launcelot against him, with\nall their strength that they might drive, that both their spears\nto-brast even to their hands, and then they flung out with their\nswords, and gave many a grim stroke. Then was Sir Launcelot wroth out\nof measure, and then he smote Sir Gahalatine on the helm, that his nose\nburst out on blood, and ears and mouth both, and therewith his head\nhung low. And therewith his horse ran away with him, and he fell down\nto the earth.\n\nAnon therewithal Sir Launcelot gat a great spear in his hand, and, or\never that great spear brake, he bare down to the earth sixteen knights,\nsome horse and man, and some the man and not the horse, and there was\nnone but that he hit surely he bare none arms that day. And then he gat\nanother great spear, and smote down twelve knights, and the most part\nof them never throve after. And then the knights of the king of\nNorthgalis would just no more, and there the prize was given unto king\nBagdemagus. So either party departed unto his own place, and Sir\nLauncelot rode forth with king Bagdemagus unto his castle, and there he\nhad passing good cheer both with the king and with his daughter, and\nthey proffered him great gifts. And on the morn he took his leave, and\ntold king Bagdemagus that he would go and seek his brother Sir Lionel,\nthat went from him when that he slept. So he took his horse, and\nbetaught them all to God. And there he said unto the king\u2019s daughter.\nIf ye have need any time of my service, I pray you let me have\nknowledge, and I shall not fail you, as I am true knight.\n\nAnd so Sir Launcelot departed, and by adventure he came into the same\nforest where he was taken sleeping. And in the midst of an highway he\nmet a damsel riding on a white palfrey, and there either saluted other.\nFair damsel, said Sir Launcelot, know ye in this country any\nadventures? Sir knight, said that damsel, here are adventures near\nhand, and thou durst prove them. Why should I not prove adventures?\nsaid Sir Launcelot; for that cause came I hither. Well, said she, thou\nseemest well to be a good knight, and if thou dare meet with a good\nknight, I shall bring thee where is the best knight and the mightiest\nthat ever thou found, so thou wilt tell me what is thy name, and what\nknight thou art. Damsel, as for to tell thee my name, I take no great\nforce: truly, my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake. Sir, thou beseemest\nwell, here be adventures by that fall for thee, for hereby dwelleth a\nknight that will not be overmatched for no man that I know, unless ye\novermatch him, and his name is Sir Turquine. And, as I understand, he\nhath in his prison of Arthur\u2019s court good knights threescore and four\nthat he hath won with his own hands. But when ye have done that day\u2019s\nwork ye shall promise me as ye are a true knight for to go with me, and\nto help me and other damsels that are distressed daily with a false\nknight. All your intent, damsel, and desire I will fulfil, so ye will\nbring me unto this knight. Now, fair knight, come on your way. And so\nshe brought him unto the ford, and unto the tree where hung the basin.\nSo Sir Launcelot let his horse drink, and then he beat on the basin\nwith the butt of his spear so hard with all his might till the bottom\nfell out, and long he did so, but he saw nothing. Then he rode endlong\nthe gates of that manor nigh half an hour. And then was he ware of a\ngreat knight that drove an horse afore him, and overthwart the horse\nthere lay an armed knight bound. And ever as they came near and near,\nSir Launcelot thought he should know him; then Sir Launcelot was ware\nthat it was Sir Gaheris, Gawaine\u2019s brother, a knight of the Table\nRound. Now fair damsel, said Sir Launcelot, I see yonder cometh a\nknight fast bound that is a fellow of mine, and brother he is unto Sir\nGawaine. And at the first beginning I promise you, by the leave of God,\nto rescue that knight; and unless his master sit better in the saddle I\nshall deliver all the prisoners that he hath out of danger, for I am\nsure that he hath two brethren of mine prisoners with him. By that time\nthat either had seen other they gripped their spears unto them. Now\nfair knight, said Sir Launcelot, put that wounded knight off the horse,\nand let him rest awhile, and let us two prove our strengths. For as it\nis informed me, thou doest and hast done great despite and shame unto\nknights of the Round Table, and therefore now defend thee. And thou be\nof the Table Round, said Turquine, I defy thee and all thy fellowship.\nThat is over much said, said Sir Launcelot.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot and Sir Turquine fought together._\n\nAnd then they put their spears in the rests, and came together with\ntheir horses as fast as they might run, and either smote other in the\nmidst of their shields, that both their horses\u2019 backs brast under them,\nand the knights were both astonied, and as soon as they might avoid\ntheir horses they took their shields afore them, and drew out their\nswords, and came together eagerly, and either gave other many strong\nstrokes, for there might neither shields nor harness hold their\nstrokes. And so within awhile they had both grimly wounds, and bled\npassing grievously. Thus they fared two hours or more, trasing and\nrasing either other where they might hit any bare place. Then at the\nlast they were breathless both, and stood leaning on their swords. Now\nfellow, said Sir Turquine, hold thy hand awhile, and tell me what I\nshall ask thee. Say on. Then Turquine said, Thou art the biggest man\nthat ever I met withal, and the best breathed, and like one knight that\nI hate above all other knights; so be it that thou be not he I will\nlightly accord with thee, and for thy love I will deliver all the\nprisoners that I have, that is threescore and four, so thou wilt tell\nme thy name. And thou and I we will be fellows together, and never to\nfail the while that I live. It is well said, said Sir Launcelot, but\nsithen it is so that I may have thy friendship, what knight is he that\nthou so hatest above all other? Faithfully, said Sir Turquine, his name\nis Sir Launcelot du Lake, for he slew my brother Sir Carados at the\ndolorous tower, that was one of the best knights on live; and therefore\nhim I except of knights, for may I once meet with him the one of us\nshall make an end of other, I make mine avow. And for Sir Launcelot\u2019s\nsake I have slain an hundred good knights, and as many I have maimed\nall utterly that they might never after help themselves, and many have\ndied in prison, and yet I have threescore and four, and all shall be\ndelivered, so thou wilt tell me thy name, so it be that thou be not Sir\nLauncelot.\n\nNow see I well, said Sir Launcelot, that such a man I might be that I\nmight have peace; and such a man I might be that there should be war\nmortal betwixt us: and now sir knight, at thy request I will that thou\nwit and know that I am Launcelot du Lake, king Ban\u2019s son of Benwick,\nand very knight of the Table Round. And now I defy thee, do thy best.\nAh, said Turquine, Launcelot, thou art unto me most welcome that ever\nwas knight, for we shall never part till the one of us be dead. Then\nthey hurtled together as two wild bulls, rashing and lashing with their\nshields and swords that sometimes they fell both over their noses. Thus\nthey fought still two hours and more, and never would have rest, and\nSir Turquine gave Sir Launcelot many wounds that all the ground there\nas they fought was all bespeckled with blood.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How Sir Turquine was slain, and how Sir Launcelot bade Sir Gaheris\n deliver all the prisoners._\n\nThen at the last Sir Turquine waxed faint, and gave somewhat aback, and\nbare his shield low for weariness. That espied Sir Launcelot and lept\nupon him fiercely and got him by the beaver of his helmet, and plucked\nhim down on his knees, and anon he rased off his helm, and smote his\nneck in sunder. And when Sir Launcelot had done this he went unto the\ndamsel and said, Damsel, I am ready to go with you where ye will have\nme, but I have no horse. Fair sir, said she, take this wounded knight\u2019s\nhorse, and send him into this manor, and command him to deliver all the\nprisoners. So Sir Launcelot went unto Gaheris, and prayed him not to be\naggrieved for to lend him his horse. Nay, fair lord, said Sir Gaheris,\nI will that ye take my horse at your own commandment, for ye have both\nsaved me and my horse, and this day I say ye are the best knight in the\nworld, for ye have slain this day in my sight the mightiest man and the\nbest knight, except you, that ever I saw; and sir, said Sir Gaheris, I\npray you tell me your name? Sir, my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake, that\nought to help you of right for king Arthur\u2019s sake, and in especial for\nmy lord Sir Gawaine\u2019s sake, your own dear brother; and when that ye\ncome within yonder manor I am sure ye shall find there many knights of\nthe Round Table, for I have seen many of their shields that I know on\nyonder tree. There is Kay\u2019s shield, and Sir Brandel\u2019s shield, and Sir\nMarhaus\u2019 shield, and Sir Galind\u2019s shield, and Sir Brian Listonoise\u2019s\nshield, and Sir Aliduke\u2019s shield, with many more that I am not now\nadvised of, and also my two brethren\u2019s shields, Sir Ector de Maris and\nSir Lionel: wherefore I pray you greet them all from me, and say that I\nbid them take there such stuff as they find, and that in any wise my\nbrethren go unto the court and abide me there till that I come, for by\nthe feast of Pentecost I cast me to be there, for at this time I must\nride with this damsel for to save my promise. And so he departed from\nGaheris, and Sir Gaheris went into the manor, and there he found a\nyeoman porter keeping there many keys. Anon withal Sir Gaheris threw\nthe porter unto the ground, and took the keys from him, and hastily he\nopened the prison door, and there he let out all the prisoners, and\nevery man loosed other of their bonds. And when they saw Sir Gaheris,\nall they thanked him, for they wend that he was wounded. Not so, said\nGaheris, it was Launcelot that slew him worshipfully with his own\nhands, I saw it with mine own eyes. And he greeteth you all well, and\nprayeth you to haste you to the court, and as unto Sir Lionel and Ector\nde Maris, he prayeth you to abide him at the court. That shall we not\ndo, said his brethren, we will find him and we may live. So shall I,\nsaid Sir Kay, find him or I come at the court, as I am true knight.\nThen all those knights sought the house where as the armour was, and\nthen they armed them, and every knight found his own horse, and all\nthat belonged unto him. And when ever this was done, there came a\nforester with four horses laden with fat venison. Anon Sir Kay said,\nHere is good meat for us for one meal, for we had not many a day no\ngood repast. And so that venison was roasted, baked, and sodden, and so\nafter supper some abode there all that night, but Sir Lionel and Ector\nde Maris and Sir Kay rode after Sir Launcelot to find him if they might.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot rode with the damsel and slew a knight that\n distressed all ladies, and also a villain that kept a bridge._\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Launcelot that rode with the damsel in a fair high\nway. Sir, said the damsel, here by this way haunteth a knight that\ndistresseth all ladies and gentlewomen, and at the least he robbeth\nthem or ill-useth them. What, said Sir Launcelot, is he a thief and a\nknight, and a ravisher of women? He doth shame unto the order of\nknighthood and contrary to his oath, it is pity that he liveth. But\nfair damsel ye shall ride on afore yourself, and I will keep myself in\ncovert, and if that he trouble you or distress you, I shall be your\nrescue, and learn him to be ruled as a knight. So the maid rode on by\nthe way a soft ambling pace. And within awhile came out that knight on\nhorseback out of the wood, and his page with him, and there he put the\ndamsel from her horse, and then she cried. With that came Launcelot as\nfast as he might, till he came to that knight, saying, Oh thou false\nknight and traitor unto knighthood, who did learn thee to distress\nladies and gentlewomen? When the knight saw Sir Launcelot thus rebuking\nhim, he answered not, but drew his sword and rode unto Sir Launcelot.\nAnd Sir Launcelot threw his spear from him, and drew out his sword, and\nstrake him such a buffet on the helmet that he clave his head and neck\nunto the throat. Now hast thou thy payment that long thou hast\ndeserved. That is truth, said the damsel, for like as Turquine watched\nto destroy knights, so did this knight attend to destroy and distress\nladies, damsels, and gentlewomen, and his name was Sir Peris de Forest\nSavage. Now damsel, said Sir Launcelot, will ye any more service of me?\nNay sir, she said, at this time; but Almighty Jesu preserve you\nwheresoever ye ride or go, for the courtiest knight thou art and\nmeekest unto all ladies and gentlewomen that now liveth. But one thing,\nsir knight, me thinketh ye lack, ye that are a knight wifeless, that ye\nwill not love some maiden or gentlewoman, for I could never hear say\nthat ever ye loved any of no manner degree, and that is great pity; but\nit is noised that ye love queen Guenever, and that she hath ordained by\nenchantment that ye shall never love none other but her, nor none other\ndamsel nor lady shall rejoice you; wherefore many in this land, of high\nestate and low, make great sorrow. Fair damsel, said Sir Launcelot, I\nmay not warn people to speak of me what it pleaseth them: but for to be\na wedded man I think it not, for then I must couch with her, and leave\narms and tournaments, battles and adventures. And as for to say for to\ntake my pleasance with paramours, that will I refuse in principal for\ndread of God. For knights that be adulterous, or wanton, shall not be\nhappy nor fortunate unto the wars, for either they shall be overcome\nwith a simpler knight than they be themselves, or else they shall by\nmishap and their cursedness slay better men than they be themselves;\nand who that so useth shall be unhappy, and all thing is unhappy that\nis about them. And so Sir Launcelot and she departed.\n\nAnd then he rode in a deep forest two days and more, and had strait\nlodging. So on the third day he rode over a long bridge, and there\nstart upon him suddenly a passing foul churl, and he smote his horse on\nthe nose that he turned about, and asked him why he rode over that\nbridge without his licence. Why should I not ride this way? said Sir\nLauncelot, I may not ride beside. Thou shalt not choose, said the\nchurl, and lashed at him with a great club shod with iron. Then Sir\nLauncelot drew his sword, and put the stroke aback, and clave his head\nunto the breast. At the end of the bridge was a fair village, and all\nthe people men and women cried on Sir Launcelot, and said, A worse deed\ndiddest thou never for thyself, for thou hast slain the chief porter of\nour castle. Sir Launcelot let them say what they would, and straight he\nwent into the castle; and when he came into the castle he alight, and\ntied his horse to a ring on the wall; and there he saw a fair green\ncourt, and thither he dressed himself, for there him thought was a fair\nplace to fight in. So he looked about, and saw much people in doors and\nwindows, that said, Fair knight thou art unhappy.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot slew two giants, and made a castle free._\n\nAnon withal came there upon him two great giants, well armed all save\nthe heads, with two horrible clubs in their hands. Sir Launcelot put\nhis shield afore him, and put the stroke away of the one giant, and\nwith his sword he clave his head asunder. When his fellow saw that, he\nran away as he were wood, for fear of the horrible strokes, and Sir\nLauncelot after him with all his might, and smote him on the shoulder,\nand clave him to the middle. Then Sir Launcelot went into the hall, and\nthere came afore him threescore ladies and damsels, and all kneeled\nunto him, and thanked God and him of their deliverance. For, sir, said\nthey, the most part of us have been here this seven year their\nprisoners, and we have worked all manner of silk works for our meat,\nand we are all great gentlewomen born, and blessed be the time, knight,\nthat ever thou wert born; for thou hast done the most worship that ever\ndid knight in the world, that will we bear record, and we all pray you\nto tell us your name, that we may tell our friends who delivered us out\nof prison. Fair damsels, he said, my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake. Ah,\nsir, said they all, well mayest thou be he, for else save yourself, as\nwe deemed, there might never knight have the better of these two\ngiants, for many fair knights have assayed it, and here have ended, and\nmany times have we wished after you, and these two giants dread never\nknight but you. Now may ye say, said Sir Launcelot, unto your friends,\nhow and who hath delivered you, and greet them all from me, and if that\nI come in any of your marches, shew me such cheer as ye have cause; and\nwhat treasure that there is in this castle I give it you for a reward\nfor your grievance: and the lord that is the owner of this castle I\nwould that he received it as is right. Fair sir, said they, the name of\nthis castle is Tintagil, and a duke owned it some time that had wedded\nfair Igraine, and after wedded her Uther Pendragon and gat on her\nArthur. Well, said Sir Launcelot, I understand to whom this castle\nbelongeth. And so he departed from them and betaught them unto God. And\nthen he mounted upon his horse, and rode into many strange and wild\ncountries and through many waters and valleys, and evil was he lodged.\nAnd at the last by fortune him happened against a night to come to a\nfair courtelage, and therein he found an old gentlewoman that lodged\nhim with a good will, and there he had good cheer for him and his\nhorse. And when time was, his host brought him into a fair garret over\nthe gate to his bed. There Sir Launcelot unarmed him, and set his\nharness by him, and went to bed, and anon he fell on sleep. So soon\nafter there came one on horseback, and knocked at the gate in great\nhaste. And when Sir Launcelot heard this he arose up, and looked out at\nthe window, and saw by the moon-light three knights came riding after\nthat one man, and all three lashed on him at once with swords, and that\none knight turned on them knightly again and defended him. Truly, said\nSir Launcelot, yonder one knight shall I help, for it were shame for me\nto see three knights on one, and if he be slain I am partner of his\ndeath. And therewith he took his harness and went out at a window by a\nsheet down to the four knights, and then Sir Launcelot said on high,\nTurn you knights unto me, and leave your fighting with that knight. And\nthen they all three left Sir Kay, and turned unto Sir Launcelot, and\nthere began great battle, for they alight all three, and strake many\ngreat strokes at Sir Launcelot, and assailed him on every side. Then\nSir Kay dressed him for to have holpen Sir Launcelot. Nay, sir, said\nhe, I will none of your help, therefore as ye will have my help let me\nalone with them. Sir Kay for the pleasure of the knight suffered him\nfor to do his will, and so stood aside. And then anon within six\nstrokes Sir Launcelot had stricken them to the earth.\n\nAnd then they all three cried, Sir knight, we yield us unto you as man\nof might matchless. As to that, said Sir Launcelot, I will not take\nyour yielding unto me, but so that ye yield you unto Sir Kay the\nseneschal, on that covenant I will save your lives and else not. Fair\nknight, said they, that were we loth to do; for as for Sir Kay we\nchased him hither, and had overcome him had not ye been; therefore to\nyield us unto him it were no reason. Well, as to that, said Sir\nLauncelot, advise you well, for ye may choose whether ye will die or\nlive, for and ye be yielden it shall be unto Sir Kay. Fair knight, then\nthey said, in saving our lives we will do as thou commandest us. Then\nshall ye, said Sir Launcelot, on Whitsunday next coming go unto the\ncourt of king Arthur, and there shall ye yield you unto queen Guenever,\nand put you all three in her grace and mercy, and say that Sir Kay sent\nyou thither to be her prisoners. Sir, they said, it shall done by the\nfaith of our bodies, and we be living. And there they swore, every\nknight upon his sword. And so Sir Launcelot suffered them so to depart.\nAnd then Sir Launcelot knocked at the gate with the pommel of his\nsword, and with that came his host, and in they entered, Sir Kay and\nhe. Sir, said his host, I wend ye had been in your bed. So I was, said\nSir Launcelot, but I arose and lept out at my window for to help an old\nfellow of mine. And so when they came nigh the light Sir Kay knew well\nthat it was Sir Launcelot, and therewith he kneeled down and thanked\nhim of all his kindness that he hath holpen him twice from the death.\nSir, he said, I have done nothing but that I ought to do, and ye are\nwelcome, and here shall ye repose you and take your rest. So when Sir\nKay was unarmed he asked after meat, so there was meat fetched him, and\nhe ate strongly. And when he had supped they went to their beds, and\nwere lodged together in one bed. On the morn Sir Launcelot arose early,\nand left Sir Kay sleeping: and Sir Launcelot took Sir Kay\u2019s armour and\nhis shield and armed him: and so he went to the stable and took his\nhorse, and took his leave of his host, and so he departed. Then soon\nafter arose Sir Kay and missed Sir Launcelot: and then he espied that\nhe had his armour and his horse. Now by my faith I know well that he\nwill grieve some of the court of king Arthur: for on him knights will\nbe bold, and deem that it is I, and that will beguile them: and because\nof his armour and shield I am sure I shall ride in peace. And then soon\nafter departed Sir Kay, and thanked his host.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot rode disguised in Sir Kay\u2019s harness, and how he\n smote down a knight._\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Launcelot that had ridden long in a great forest,\nand at the last he came into a low country full of fair rivers and\nmeadows. And afore him he saw a long bridge, and three pavilions stood\nthereon of silk and sandal of divers hue. And without the pavilions\nhung three white shields on truncheons of spears, and great long spears\nstood upright by the pavilions, and at every pavilion\u2019s door stood\nthree fresh squires, and so Sir Launcelot passed by them, and spake no\nword. When he was past the three knights said that it was the proud\nKay, he weeneth no knight so good as he, and the contrary is ofttime\nproved. By my faith, said one of the knights, his name was Sir Gaunter,\nI will ride after him and assay him for all his pride, and ye may\nbehold how that I speed. So this knight, Sir Gaunter, armed him, and\nhung his shield upon his shoulder and mounted upon a great horse, and\ngat his spear in his hand, and galloped after Sir Launcelot. And when\nhe came nigh him, he cried, Abide thou proud knight Sir Kay, for thou\nshalt not pass quit. So Sir Launcelot turned him, and either fewtred\ntheir spears, and came together with all their mights, and Sir\nGaunter\u2019s spear brake, but Sir Launcelot smote him down, horse and man.\nAnd when Sir Gaunter was at the earth his brethren said each one to\nother, Yonder knight is not Sir Kay, for he is bigger than he. I dare\nlay my head, said Sir Gilmere, yonder knight hath slain Sir Kay and\nhath taken his horse and harness. Whether it be so or no, said Sir\nRaynold the third brother, let us now go mount upon our horses and\nrescue our brother Sir Gaunter upon pain of death. We all shall have\nwork enough to match that knight, for ever me seemeth by his person it\nis Sir Launcelot, or Sir Tristam, or Sir Pelleas the good knight. Then\nanon they took their horses and overtook Sir Launcelot, and Sir Gilmere\nput forth his spear and ran to Sir Launcelot and Sir Launcelot smote\nhim down that he lay in a swoon. Sir knight, said Sir Raynold, thou art\na strong man, and, as I suppose, thou hast slain my two brethren, for\nthe which riseth my heart sore against thee; and if I might with my\nworship I would not have ado with thee, but needs I must take part as\nthey do; and therefore knight, he said, keep thyself. And so they\nhurtled together with all their mights, and all to-shivered both their\nspears. And then they drew their swords and lashed together eagerly.\nAnon therewith arose Sir Gaunter, and came unto his brother Sir\nGilmere, and bad him arise and help we our brother Sir Raynold, that\nyonder marvellously matcheth yonder good knight. Therewithal they lept\non their horses, and hurtled unto Sir Launcelot. And when he saw them\ncome, he smote a sore stroke unto Sir Raynold, that he fell off his\nhorse to the ground, and then he struck to the other two brethren, and\nat two strokes he strake them down to the earth. With that Sir Raynold\nbegan to start up with his head all bloody, and came straight unto Sir\nLauncelot. Now let be, said Sir Launcelot, I was not far from thee when\nthou wert made knight, Sir Raynold, and also I know thou art a good\nknight, and loth I were to slay thee. Gramercy, said Sir Raynold, as\nfor your goodness; and I dare say as for me and my brethren, we will\nnot be loth to yield us unto you, with that we knew your name; for well\nwe know ye are not Sir Kay. As for that be it as it may, for ye shall\nyield you unto dame Guenever, and look that ye be with her on\nWhitsunday, and yield you unto her as prisoners, and say that Sir Kay\nsent you unto her. Then they swore it should be done. And so passed\nforth Sir Launcelot, and each one of the brethren helped each other as\nwell as they might.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot justed against four knights of the Round Table, and\n overthrew them._\n\nSo Sir Launcelot rode into a deep forest, and there by in a slade he\nsaw four knights hoving under an oak, and they were of Arthur\u2019s court;\none was Sagramour le Desirous, and Sir Ector de Maris, and Sir Gawaine,\nand Sir Uwaine. Anon as these four knights had espied Sir Launcelot\nthey wend by his arms it had been Sir Kay. Now by my faith, said Sir\nSagramour, I will prove Sir Kay\u2019s might, and gat his spear in his hand,\nand came toward Sir Launcelot. Therewith Sir Launcelot was ware, and\nknew him well, and fewtred his spear against him, and smote Sir\nSagramour so sore that horse and man fell both to the earth. Lo, my\nfellows, said Sir Ector, yonder ye may see what a buffet he hath; that\nknight is much bigger than ever was Sir Kay. Now shall ye see what I\nmay do to him. So Sir Ector gat his spear in his hand and galloped\ntoward Sir Launcelot, and Sir Launcelot smote him through the shield\nand shoulder that horse and man went to the earth, and ever his spear\nheld. By my faith, said Sir Uwaine, yonder is a strong knight, and I am\nsure he hath slain Sir Kay; and I see by his great strength it will be\nhard to match him. And therewithal Sir Uwaine gat his spear in his hand\nand rode toward Sir Launcelot, and Sir Launcelot knew him well, and so\nhe met him on the plain and gave him such a buffet that he was\nastonied, that long he wist not where he was. Now see I well, said Sir\nGawaine, I must encounter with that knight. Then he dressed his shield\nand gat a good spear in his hand, and Sir Launcelot knew him well, and\nthen they let run their horses with all their mights, and either knight\nsmote other in midst of the shield. But Sir Gawaine\u2019s spear to-brast,\nand Sir Launcelot charged so sore upon him that his horse reversed up\nso down. And much sorrow had Sir Gawaine to avoid his horse, and so Sir\nLauncelot passed on a pace, and smiled, and said, God give him joy that\nthis spear made, for there came never a better in my hand. Then the\nfour knights went each one to other, and comforted each other. What say\nye by this gest? said Sir Gawaine, that one spear hath felled us four.\nWe command him unto the devil, they said all, for he is a man of great\nmight. Ye may well say it, said Sir Gawaine, that he is a man of might,\nfor I dare lay my head it is Sir Launcelot, I know it by his riding.\nLet him go, said Sir Gawaine, for when we come to the court then shall\nwe wit. And then had they much sorrow to get their horses again.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot followed a brachet into a castle where he found a\n dead knight, and how he after was required of a damsel to heal her\n brother._\n\nNow leave we there and speak of Sir Launcelot that rode a great while\nin a deep forest, where he saw a black brachet, seeking in manner as it\nhad been in the track of an hurt deer, and therewith he rode after the\nbrachet, and he saw lie on the ground a large track of blood. And then\nSir Launcelot rode after. And ever the brachet looked behind her, and\nso she went through a great marsh, and ever Sir Launcelot followed. And\nthen was he ware of an old manor, and thither ran the brachet, and so\nover the bridge. So Sir Launcelot rode over that bridge that was old\nand feeble; and when he came in midst of a great hall, there he saw lie\na dead knight that was a seemly man, and that brachet licked his\nwounds. And therewithal came out a lady weeping and wringing her hands,\nand she said, Oh knight, too much sorrow hast thou brought me. Why say\nye so? said Sir Launcelot, I did never this knight no harm, for hither\nby track of blood this brachet brought me; and therefore fair lady be\nnot displeased with me, for I am full sore aggrieved of your grievance.\nTruly sir, she said, I trow it be not ye that have slain my husband,\nfor he that did that deed is sore wounded, and he is never likely to\nrecover, that shall I ensure him. What was your husband\u2019s name? said\nSir Launcelot. Sir, said she, his name was called Sir Gilbert, one of\nthe best knights of the world, and he that hath slain him I know not\nhis name. Now God send you better comfort, said Sir Launcelot. And so\nhe departed and went into the forest again, and there he met with a\ndamsel, the which knew him well, and she said aloud, Well be ye found,\nmy lord; and now I require thee on thy knighthood help my brother that\nis sore wounded, and never stinteth bleeding, for this day fought he\nwith Sir Gilbert and slew him in plain battle, and there was my brother\nsore wounded, and there is a lady a sorceress that dwelleth in a castle\nhere beside, and this day she told me my brother\u2019s wounds should never\nbe whole till I could find a knight that would go into the chapel\nperilous, and there he should find a sword and a bloody cloth that the\nwounded knight was lapped in, and a piece of that cloth and sword\nshould heal my brother\u2019s wounds, so that his wounds were searched with\nthe sword and the cloth. This is a marvellous thing, said Sir\nLauncelot, but what is your brother\u2019s name? Sir, said she, his name is\nSir Meliot de Logres. That me repenteth, said Sir Launcelot, for he is\na fellow of the Table Round, and to his help I will do my power. Then,\nsir, said she, follow even this high way, and it will bring you unto\nthe chapel perilous, and here I shall abide till God send you here\nagain, and but you speed I know no knight living that may achieve that\nadventure.\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot came into the chapel perilous, and gat there of a\n dead corpse a piece of the cloth and a sword._\n\nRight so Sir Launcelot departed, and when he came unto the chapel\nperilous he alight down, and tied his horse to a little gate. And as\nsoon as he was within the churchyard he saw on the front of the chapel\nmany fair rich shields turned up so down, and many of the shields Sir\nLauncelot had seen knights bear beforehand. With that he saw by him\nstand there a thirty great knights, more by a yard than any man that\never he had seen, and all those grinned and gnashed at Sir Launcelot.\nAnd when he saw their countenance he dread him sore, and so put his\nshield afore him, and took his sword in his hand ready unto battle; and\nthey were all armed in black harness, ready with their shields and\ntheir swords drawn. And when Sir Launcelot would have gone throughout\nthem, they scattered on every side of him, and gave him the way, and\ntherewith he waxed all bold and entered into the chapel, and then he\nsaw no light but a dim lamp burning, and then was he ware of a corpse\ncovered with a cloth of silk. Then Sir Launcelot stooped down and cut a\npiece away of that cloth, and then it fared under him as the earth had\nquaked a little; there withal he feared. And then he saw a fair sword\nlie by the dead knight, and that he gat in his hand and hied him out of\nthe chapel. Anon as ever he was in the chapel-yard all the knights\nspake to him with a grimly voice, and said, Knight, Sir Launcelot, lay\nthat sword from thee, or else thou shalt die. Whether I live or die,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, will no great word get it again, therefore fight\nfor it and ye list. Then right so he passed throughout them, and beyond\nthe chapel-yard there met him a fair damsel, and said, Sir Launcelot,\nleave that sword behind thee, or thou wilt die for it. I leave it not,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, for no entreaties. No, said she, and thou didst\nleave that sword queen Guenever should ye never see. Then were I a fool\nand I would leave this sword, said Sir Launcelot. Now gentle knight,\nsaid the damsel, I require thee to kiss me but once. Nay, said Sir\nLauncelot, that God me forbid. Well sir, said she, and thou haddest\nkissed me thy life days had been done, but now alas, she said, I have\nlost all my labour, for I ordained this chapel for thy sake, and for\nSir Gawaine. And once I had Sir Gawaine within my power, and at that\ntime he fought with that knight that lieth there dead in yonder chapel,\nSir Gilbert, and at that time he smote off the left hand of Sir\nGilbert. And Sir Launcelot now I tell thee, I have loved thee this\nseven year, but there may no woman have thy love but queen Guenever.\nBut since I may not rejoice thee to have thy body alive, I had kept no\nmore joy in this world but to have thy body dead. Then would I have\nbalmed it and preserved it, and so have kept it my life days, and daily\nI should have kissed thee in despite of queen Guenever. Ye say well,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, God preserve me from your subtil crafts. And\ntherewithal he took his horse and so departed from her. And as the book\nsaith, when Sir Launcelot was departed she took such sorrow that she\ndied within a fourteen night, and her name was Hellawes the sorceress,\nlady of the castle Nigramous. Anon Sir Launcelot met with the damsel,\nSir Meliot\u2019s sister. And when she saw him she clapped her hands and\nwept for joy, and then they rode unto a castle thereby, where Sir\nMeliot lay. And anon as Sir Launcelot saw him he knew him, but he was\npale as the earth for bleeding. When Sir Meliot saw Sir Launcelot, he\nkneeled upon his knees and cried on high: O lord Sir Launcelot help me!\nAnon Sir Launcelot leapt unto him, and touched his wounds with Sir\nGilbert\u2019s sword, and then he wiped his wounds with a part of the bloody\ncloth that Sir Gilbert was wrapped in, and anon a wholer man in his\nlife was he never. And then there was great joy between them, and they\nmade Sir Launcelot all the cheer that they might, and so on the morn\nSir Launcelot took his leave, and bad Sir Meliot hie him to the court\nof my lord Arthur, for it draweth nigh to the feast of Pentecost, and\nthere, by the grace of God, ye shall find me. And therewith they\ndeparted.\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot at the request of a lady recovered a falcon, by\n which he was deceived._\n\nAnd so Sir Launcelot rode through many strange countries, over marshes\nand valleys, till by fortune he came to a fair castle, and as he passed\nbeyond the castle him thought he heard two bells ring. And then was he\nware of a falcon came flying over his head toward an high elm, and long\nlines about her feet, and as she flew unto the elm to take her perch,\nthe lines overcast about a bough. And when she would have taken her\nflight she hung by the legs fast, and Sir Launcelot saw how she hung,\nand beheld the fair falcon perigot, and he was sorry for her. The\nmeanwhile came a lady out of the castle, and cried on high, O\nLauncelot, Launcelot, as thou art flower of all knights help me to get\nmy hawk, for and my hawk be lost my lord will destroy me; for I kept\nthe hawk and she slipt from me, and if my lord my husband wit it, he is\nso hasty that he will slay me. What is your lord\u2019s name? said Sir\nLauncelot. Sir, she said, his name is Sir Phelot, a knight that longeth\nunto the king of Northgalis. Well, fair lady, since that ye know my\nname, and require me of knighthood to help you, I will do what I may to\nget your hawk, and yet truly I am an ill climber, and the tree is\npassing high, and few boughs to help me withal. And therewith Sir\nLauncelot alight, and tied his horse to the same tree, and prayed the\nlady to unarm him. And so when he was unarmed, he put off all his\nclothes unto his shirt and breeches, and with might and force he\nclimbed up to the falcon, and tied the lines to a great rotten branch,\nand threw the hawk down and it withal. Anon the lady gat the hawk in\nher hand, and therewithal came out Sir Phelot out of the groves\nsuddenly, that was her husband, all armed, and with his naked sword in\nhis hand, and said, O knight, Launcelot, now have I found thee as I\nwould: and stood at the bole of the tree to slay him. Ah lady, said Sir\nLauncelot, why have ye betrayed me? She hath done, said Sir Phelot, but\nas I commanded her, and therefore there is none other boot but thine\nhour is come that thou must die. That were shame unto thee, said Sir\nLauncelot, thou an armed knight to slay a naked man by treason. Thou\ngettest none other grace, said Sir Phelot, and therefore help thyself\nand thou canst. Truly, said Sir Launcelot, that shall be thy shame, but\nsince thou wilt do none other, take mine harness with thee, and hang my\nsword upon a bough that I may get it, and then do thy best to slay me\nand thou canst. Nay, nay, said Sir Phelot, for I know thee better than\nthou weenest, therefore thou gettest no weapon and I may keep you\ntherefro. Alas, said Sir Launcelot, that ever knight should die\nweaponless. And therewith he awaited above him and under him, and over\nhis head he saw a rounspik, a big bough leafless, and therewith he\nbrake it off by the body; and then he came lower, and awaited how his\nown horse stood, and suddenly he lept on the farther side of the horse\nfrom the knight. And then Sir Phelot lashed at him eagerly, weening to\nhave slain him; but Sir Launcelot put away the stroke with the\nrounspik, and therewith he smote him on the one side of the head, that\nhe fell down in a swoon to the ground. So then Sir Launcelot took his\nsword out of his hand, and struck his neck from the body. Then cried\nthe lady, Alas, why hast thou slain my husband? I am not causer, said\nSir Launcelot, for with falsehood ye would have had slain me with\ntreason, and now it is fallen on you both. And then she swooned as\nthough she would die. And therewithal Sir Launcelot gat all his armour\nas well as he might, and put it upon him, for dread of more resort, for\nhe dread that the knight\u2019s castle was so nigh. And so soon as he might\nhe took his horse and departed, and thanked God that he had escaped\nthat adventure.\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot overtook a knight which chased his wife to have\n slain her, and how he said to him._\n\nSo Sir Launcelot rode many wild ways, throughout marshes and many wild\nways. And as he rode in a valley he saw a knight chasing a lady with a\nnaked sword to have slain her. And by fortune, as this knight should\nhave slain this lady, she cried on Sir Launcelot and prayed him to\nrescue her. When Sir Launcelot saw that mischief he took his horse and\nrode between them, saying, Knight, fie for shame, why wilt thou slay\nthis lady? thou dost shame unto thee and all knights. What hast thou to\ndo betwixt me and my wife? said the knight; I will slay her, maugre thy\nhead. That shall ye not, said Sir Launcelot, for rather we two will\nhave ado together. Sir Launcelot, said the knight, thou doest not thy\npart, for this lady hath betrayed me. It is not so, said the lady,\ntruly he saith wrong on me, and because I love and cherish my cousin\ngerman, he is jealous betwixt him and me, and as I shall answer to God,\nthere was never sin betwixt us. But, sir, said the lady, as thou art\ncalled the worshipfullest knight of the world, I require thee of true\nknighthood keep me and save me, for whatsoever ye say he will slay me,\nfor he is without mercy. Have ye no doubt, said Launcelot, it shall not\nlie in his power. Sir, said the knight, in your sight I will be ruled\nas ye will have me. And so Sir Launcelot rode on the one side and she\non the other: he had not ridden but a while but the knight bad Sir\nLauncelot turn him and look behind him and said, Sir, yonder come men\nof arms after us riding. And so Sir Launcelot turned him, and thought\nno treason. And therewith was the knight and the lady on one side, and\nsuddenly he swapped off his lady\u2019s head. And when Sir Launcelot had\nespied him what he had done, he said, and called him, Traitor thou hast\nshamed me for ever. And suddenly Sir Launcelot alight off his horse,\nand pulled out his sword to slay him. And therewithal he fell flat to\nthe earth, and gripped Sir Launcelot by the thighs, and cried mercy.\nFie on thee said Sir Launcelot, thou shameful knight, thou mayest have\nno mercy, and therefore arise and fight with me. Nay, said the knight,\nI will never arise till ye grant me mercy. Now will I proffer thee\nfair, said Launcelot: I will unarm me unto my shirt, and will have\nnothing upon me but my shirt, and my sword in my hand, and if thou\ncanst slay me quit be thou for ever. Nay, sir, said Pedivere, that will\nI never. Well, said Sir Launcelot, take this lady and the head, and\nbear it upon thee, and here shalt thou swear upon my sword to bear it\nalway upon thy back, and never to rest till thou come to queen\nGuenever. Sir, said he, that will I do, by the faith of my body. Now,\nsaid Launcelot, tell me what is your name. Sir, my name is Pedivere. In\na shameful hour wert thou born, said Launcelot. So Pedivere departed\nwith the dead lady and the head, and found the queen with king Arthur\nat Winchester, and there he told all the truth. Sir knight, said the\nqueen, this is an horrible deed and a shameful, and a great rebuke unto\nSir Launcelot: but notwithstanding his worship is not known in divers\ncountries. But this shall I give you in penance: make ye as good skift\nas ye can, ye shall bear this lady with you on horseback unto the Pope\nof Rome, and of him receive your penance for your foul deeds, and ye\nshall never rest one night there as ye do another, and if ye go to any\nbed the dead body shall lie with you. This oath there he made, and so\ndeparted, and as it telleth in the French book, when he came to Rome\nthe Pope bad him go again to queen Guenever, and in Rome was his lady\nburied by the Pope\u2019s commandment. And after this Sir Pedivere fell to\ngreat goodness, and was an holy man and an hermit.\n\n\n CHAP. XVIII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot came to king Arthur\u2019s court, and how there were\n recounted all his noble feats and acts._\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Launcelot du Lake, that came home two days afore\nthe feast of Pentecost. And the king and all the court were passing\nfain of his coming. And when Sir Gawaine, Sir Uwaine, Sir Sagramour,\nSir Ector de Maris, saw Sir Launcelot in Kay\u2019s armour, then they wist\nwell it was he that smote them down all with one spear. Then there was\nlaughing and smiling among them. And ever now and now came all the\nknights home that Sir Turquine had prisoners, and they all honoured and\nworshipped Sir Launcelot. When Sir Gaheris heard them speak, he said, I\nsaw all the battle from the beginning to the ending, and there he told\nking Arthur all how it was, and how Sir Turquine was the strongest\nknight that ever he saw except Sir Launcelot: there were many knights\nbear him record, nigh threescore. Then Sir Kay told the king how Sir\nLauncelot had rescued him when he should have been slain, and how he\nmade the knights yield them to me, and not to him. And there they were,\nall three, and bare record. And by my faith, said Sir Kay, because Sir\nLauncelot took my harness and left me his I rode in good peace, and no\nman would have ado with me. Anon therewithal came the three knights\nthat fought with Sir Launcelot at the long bridge, and there they\nyielded them unto Sir Kay, and Sir Kay forsook them and said he fought\nnever with them: But I shall ease your hearts, said Sir Kay, yonder is\nSir Launcelot that overcame you. When they wist that, they were glad.\nAnd then Sir Meliot de Logres came home, and told king Arthur how Sir\nLauncelot had saved him from the death. And all his deeds were known,\nhow four queens, sorceresses, had him in prison, and how he was\ndelivered by king Bagdemagus\u2019s daughter. Also there were told all the\ngreat deeds of arms that Sir Launcelot did betwixt the two kings, that\nis to say, the king of Northgalis and king Bagdemagus. All the truth\nSir Gahalantine did tell, and Sir Mador de la Porte, and Sir Mordred,\nfor they were at that same tournament. Then came in the lady that knew\nSir Launcelot when that he wounded Sir Belleus at the pavilion. And\nthere, at the request of Sir Launcelot, Sir Belleus was made knight of\nthe Round Table.\n\nAnd so at that time Sir Launcelot had the greatest name of any knight\nof the world, and most he was honoured of high and low.\n\nExplicit the noble tale of syr Launcelot du lake, whiche is the vi.\n book. Here foloweth the tale of syr Gareth of Orkeney, that was\n called Beaumayns by syr kay, and is the seventh book.\n\n\n\n\n The Seventh Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How Beaumains came to king Arthur\u2019s court and demanded three petitions\n of king Arthur._\n\nWhen Arthur held his Round Table most fully, it fortuned that he\ncommanded that the high feast of Pentecost should be holden at a city\nand a castle, the which in those days was called Kink-Kenadon, upon the\nsands that marched nigh Wales. So ever the king had a custom that at\nthe feast of Pentecost, in especial afore other feasts in the year, he\nwould not go that day to meat until he had heard or seen of a great\nmarvel. And for that custom all manner of strange adventures came\nbefore Arthur as at that feast before all other feasts. And so Sir\nGawaine, a little tofore noon of the day of Pentecost, espied at a\nwindow three men upon horseback, and a dwarf on foot. And so the three\nmen alight and the dwarf kept their horses, and one of the three men\nwas higher than the other twain by a foot and a half. Then Sir Gawaine\nwent unto the king and said, Sir, go to your meat, for here at the hand\ncome strange adventures. So Arthur went unto his meat with many other\nkings. And there were all the knights of the Round Table, save those\nthat were prisoners or slain at a recounter. Then at the high feast\nevermore they should be fulfilled the whole number of an hundred and\nfifty, for then was the Round Table fully complished. Right so came\ninto the hall two men well beseen and richly, and upon their shoulders\nthere leaned the goodliest young man and the fairest that ever they all\nsaw, and he was large and long and broad in the shoulders, and well\nvisaged, and the fairest and the largest handed that ever man saw, but\nhe fared as though he might not go nor bear himself, but if he leaned\nupon their shoulders. Anon as Arthur saw him there was made peace and\nroom, and right so they went with him unto the high dais, without\nsaying of any words. Then this much young man pulled him aback, and\neasily stretched up straight, saying, King Arthur, God you bless, and\nall your fair fellowship, and in especial the fellowship of the Table\nRound. And for this cause I am come hither, to pray you and require you\nto give me three gifts, and they shall not be unreasonably asked, but\nthat ye may worshipfully and honourably grant them me, and to you no\ngreat hurt nor loss. And the first done and gift I will ask now, and\nthe other two gifts I will ask this day twelvemonth wheresoever ye hold\nyour high feast. Now ask, said Arthur, and ye shall have your asking.\nNow sir, this is my petition for this feast, that ye will give me meat\nand drink sufficiently for this twelvemonth, and at that day I will ask\nmine other two gifts. My fair son, said Arthur, ask better, I counsel\nthee, for this is but a simple asking, for my heart giveth me to thee\ngreatly that thou art come of men of worship, and greatly my conceit\nfaileth me but thou shalt prove a man of right great worship. Sir, said\nhe, thereof be as it may, I have asked that I will ask. Well, said the\nking, ye shall have meat and drink enough, I never defended that none,\nneither my friend nor my foe. But what is thy name I would wit? I\ncannot tell you, said he. That is marvel, said the king, that thou\nknowest not thy name, and thou art the goodliest young man that ever I\nsaw. Then the king betook him to Sir Kay, the steward, and charged him\nthat he should give him of all manner of meats and drinks of the best,\nand also that he had all manner of finding as though he were a lord\u2019s\nson. That shall little need, said Sir Kay, to do such cost upon him;\nfor I dare undertake he is a villain born, and never will make man, for\nand he had come of gentlemen he would have asked of you horse and\narmour, but such as he is, so he asketh. And since he hath no name, I\nshall give him a name that shall be Beaumains, that is Fair-hands, and\ninto the kitchen I shall bring him, and there he shall have fat browis\nevery day, that he shall be as fat by the twelvemonth\u2019s end as a pork\nhog. Right so the two men departed, and beleft him to Sir Kay, that\nscorned him and mocked him.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine were wroth because Sir Kay mocked\n Beaumains, and of a damsel which desired a knight for to fight for a\n lady._\n\nThereat was Sir Gawaine wroth, and in especial Sir Launcelot bad Sir\nKay leave his mocking, for I dare lay my head he shall prove a man of\ngreat worship. Let be, said Sir Kay, it may not be, by no reason, for\nas he is so hath he asked. Beware, said Sir Launcelot, so ye gave the\ngood knight Brewnor, Sir Dinadan\u2019s brother, a name, and ye called him\nLa Cote Male Taile, and that turned you to anger afterward. As for\nthat, said Sir Kay, this shall never prove none such; for Sir Brewnor\ndesired ever worship, and this desireth bread and drink, and broth;\nupon pain of my life he was fostered up in some abbey, and, howsoever\nit was, they failed meat and drink, and so hither he is come for his\nsustenance. And so Sir Kay bad get him a place and sit down to meat, so\nBeaumains went to the hall door, and set him down among boys and lads,\nand there he eat sadly. And then Sir Launcelot after meat bad him come\nto his chamber, and there he should have meat and drink enough. And so\ndid Sir Gawaine: but he refused them all; he would do none other but as\nSir Kay commanded him, for no proffer. But as touching Sir Gawaine, he\nhad reason to proffer him lodging, meat, and drink, for that proffer\ncame of his blood, for he was nearer kin to him than he wist. But that\nas Sir Launcelot did was of his great gentleness and courtesy. So thus\nhe was put into the kitchen, and lay nightly as the boys of the kitchen\ndid. And so he endured all that twelvemonth, and never displeased man\nnor child, but always he was meek and mild. But ever when that he saw\nany justing of knights, that would he see and he might. And ever Sir\nLauncelot would give him gold to spend, and clothes, and so did Sir\nGawaine. And where were any masteries done thereat would he be, and\nthere might none cast bar nor stone to him by two yards. Then would Sir\nKay say, How liketh you my boy of the kitchen? So it passed on till the\nfeast of Whitsuntide. And at that time the king held it at Carlion in\nthe most royalest wise that might be, like as he did yearly.\n\nBut the king would no meat eat upon the Whitsunday until he heard some\nadventures. Then came there a squire to the king and said, Sir, ye may\ngo to your meat, for here cometh a damsel with some strange adventures.\nThen was the king glad, and set him down. Right so there came a damsel\ninto the hall, and saluted the king, and prayed him of succour. For\nwhom, said the king, what is the adventure? Sir, she said, I have a\nlady of great worship and renown, and she is besieged with a tyrant, so\nthat she may not out of her castle. And because here are called the\nnoblest knights of the world, I come to you to pray you of succour.\nWhat highteth your lady, and where dwelleth she? and who is he, and\nwhat is his name, that hath besieged her? Sir king, she said, as for my\nlady\u2019s name that shall not ye know for me as at this time, but I let\nyou wit she is a lady of great worship, and of great lands. And as for\nthe tyrant that besiegeth her and destroyeth her lands, he is called\nthe red knight of the red lawns. I know him not, said the king. Sir,\nsaid Sir Gawaine, I know him well, for he is one of the perilousest\nknights of the world: men say that he hath seven men\u2019s strength, and\nfrom him I escaped once full hard with my life. Fair damsel, said the\nking, there be knights here would do their power to rescue your lady,\nbut because ye will not tell her name, nor where she dwelleth,\ntherefore none of my knights that be here now shall go with you by my\nwill. Then must I speak further, said the damsel.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How Beaumains desired the battle, and how it was granted to him, and\n how he desired to be made knight of Sir Launcelot._\n\nWith these words came before the king Beaumains, while the damsel was\nthere, and thus he said: Sir king, God thank you, I have been these\ntwelvemonth in your kitchen, and have had my full sustenance, and now I\nwill ask my two gifts that be behind. Ask upon my peril, said the king.\nSir, this shall be my two gifts. First, that ye will grant me to have\nthis adventure of the damsel, for it belongeth unto me. Thou shalt have\nit, said the king, I grant it thee. Then, sir, this is the other gift,\nthat ye shall bid Launcelot du Lake make me knight, for of him I will\nbe made knight, and else of none. And when I am past, I pray you let\nhim ride after me, and make me knight when I require him. All this\nshall be done, said the king. Fie on thee, said the damsel, shall I\nhave none but one that is your kitchen page. Then was she wroth, and\ntook her horse and departed.\n\nAnd with that there came one to Beaumains, and told him that his horse\nand armour was come for him, and there was the dwarf come with all\nthing that him needed in the richest manner. Thereat all the court had\nmuch marvel from whence came all that gear. So when he was armed there\nwas none but few so goodly a man as he was. And right so he came into\nthe hall and took his leave of king Arthur and Sir Gawaine and Sir\nLauncelot, and prayed that he would hie after him. And so departed and\nrode after the damsel.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How Beaumains departed, and how he gat of Sir Kay a spear and a\n shield, and how he justed and fought with Sir Launcelot._\n\nBut there went many after to behold how well he was horsed and trapped\nin cloth of gold, but he had neither shield nor spear. Then Sir Kay\nsaid all openly in the hall, I will ride after my boy in the kitchen,\nto wit whether he will know me for his better. Said Sir Launcelot and\nSir Gawaine, Yet abide at home. So Sir Kay made him ready and took his\nhorse and his spear and rode after him. And right as Beaumains overtook\nthe damsel, right so came Sir Kay, and said, Beaumains, what sir know\nye not me? Then he turned his horse and knew it was Sir Kay, that had\ndone him all the despite as ye have heard afore. Yea, said Beaumains, I\nknow you for an ungentle knight of the court, and therefore beware of\nme. Therewith Sir Kay put his spear in the rest, and ran straight upon\nhim, and Beaumains came as fast upon him with his sword in his hand;\nand so he put away his spear with his sword, and with a foin thrust him\nthrough the side, that Sir Kay fell down as he had been dead, and he\nalight down and took Sir Kay\u2019s shield and his spear, and start upon his\nown horse and rode his way. All that saw Sir Launcelot, and so did the\ndamsel. And then he bad his dwarf start upon Sir Kay\u2019s horse, and so he\ndid. By that Sir Launcelot was come. Then he proffered Sir Launcelot to\njust, and either made them ready, and came together so fiercely that\neither bare down other to the earth, and sore were they bruised. Then\nSir Launcelot arose and helped him from his horse. And then Beaumains\nthrew his shield from him, and proffered to fight with Sir Launcelot on\nfoot, and so they rushed together like boars, tracing, racing, and\nfoining, to the mountenance of an hour, and Sir Launcelot felt him so\nbig that he marvelled of his strength, for he fought more like a giant\nthan a knight, and that his fighting was durable and passing perilous.\nFor Sir Launcelot had so much ado with him that he dread himself to be\nshamed, and said, Beaumains, fight not so sore, your quarrel and mine\nis not so great but we may leave off. Truly, that is truth, said\nBeaumains, but it doth me good to feel your might, and yet, my lord, I\nshewed not the utterance.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How Beaumains told to Sir Launcelot his name, and how he was dubbed\n knight of Sir Launcelot, and after overtook the damsel._\n\nWell, said Sir Launcelot, for I promise you by the faith of my body I\nhad as much to do as I might to save myself from you unshamed, and\ntherefore have ye no doubt of none earthly knight. Hope ye so that I\nmay any while stand a proved knight? said Beaumains. Yea, said\nLauncelot, do ye as ye have done, and I shall be your warrant. Then, I\npray you, said Beaumains, give me the order of knighthood. Then must ye\ntell me your name, said Launcelot, and of what kin ye be born. Sir, so\nthat ye will not discover me I shall, said Beaumains. Nay, said Sir\nLauncelot, and that I promise you by the faith of my body, until it be\nopenly known. Then, Sir, he said, my name is Gareth, and brother unto\nSir Gawaine, of father and mother. Ah! Sir, said Launcelot, I am more\ngladder of you than I was, for ever me thought ye should be of great\nblood, and that ye came not to the court neither for meat nor for\ndrink. And then Sir Launcelot gave him the order of knighthood. And\nthen Sir Gareth prayed him for to depart, and let him go. So Sir\nLauncelot departed from him and came to Sir Kay, and made him to be\nborne home upon his shield, and so he was healed hard with the life,\nand all men scorned Sir Kay, and in especial Sir Gawaine and Sir\nLauncelot said it was not his part to rebuke no young man, for full\nlittle knew he of what birth he is come, and for what cause he came to\nthis court. And so we leave off Sir Kay and turn we unto Beaumains.\nWhen he had overtaken the damsel anon she said, What doest thou here?\nthou stinkest all of the kitchen, thy clothes be foul of the grease and\ntallow that thou gainedst in king Arthur\u2019s kitchen; weenest thou, said\nshe, that I allow thee for yonder knight that thou killedst? Nay truly,\nfor thou slewest him unhappily and cowardly, therefore turn again foul\nkitchen page. I know thee well, for Sir Kay named thee Beaumains; what\nart thou but a lubber and a turner of spits, and a ladle washer?\nDamsel, said Beaumains, say to me what ye will, I will not go from you\nwhatsoever ye say, for I have undertaken to king Arthur for to achieve\nyour adventure, and so shall I finish it to the end, or I shall die\ntherefore. Fie on thee, kitchen knave, wilt thou finish mine adventure?\nthou shalt anon be met withall, that thou wouldest not for all the\nbroth that ever thou suppedst once look him in the face. I shall assay,\nsaid Beaumains. So thus as they rode in the wood, there came a man\nflying all that ever he might. Whither wilt thou? said Beaumains. O\nlord, he said, help me, for hereby in a slade are six thieves, that\nhave taken my lord and bound him, so I am afeard lest they will slay\nhim. Bring me thither, said Sir Beaumains. And so they rode together\nuntil they came there as was the knight bound, and then he rode unto\nthem and struck one unto the death, and then another, and at the third\nstroke he slew the third thief: and then the other three fled. And he\nrode after them, and he overtook them, and then those three thieves\nturned again and assailed Beaumains hard, but at the last he slew them,\nand returned and unbound the knight. And the knight thanked him, and\nprayed him to ride with him to his castle there a little beside, and he\nshould worshipfully reward him for his good deeds. Sir, said Beaumains,\nI will no reward have, I was this day made knight of noble Sir\nLauncelot, and therefore I will no reward have, but God reward me. And\nalso I must follow this damsel. And when he came nigh her, she bad him\nride from her, for thou smellest all of the kitchen; weenest thou that\nI have joy of thee? for all this deed thou hast done, is but mishapped\nthee; but thou shalt see a sight that shall make thee turn again, and\nthat lightly. Then the same knight which was rescued of the thieves\nrode after that damsel, and prayed her to lodge with him all that\nnight. And because it was near night the damsel rode with him to his\ncastle, and there they had great cheer. And at supper the knight set\nSir Beaumains afore the damsel. Fie, fie, said she, sir knight, ye are\nuncourteous to set a kitchen page afore me, him beseemeth better to\nstick a swine than to sit afore a damsel of high parentage. Then the\nknight was ashamed at her words, and took him up and set him at a side\nboard, and set himself afore him. And so all that night they had good\ncheer and merry rest.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How Sir Beaumains fought and slew two knights at a passage._\n\nAnd on the morn the damsel and he took their leave and thanked the\nknight, and so departed, and rode on their way until they came to a\ngreat forest. And there was a great river and but one passage, and\nthere were ready two knights on the further side, to let them the\npassage. What sayest thou, said the damsel, wilt thou match yonder\nknights, or turn again? Nay, said Sir Beaumains, I will not turn again\nand they were six more. And therewithal he rushed into the water, and\nin the midst of the water either brake their spears upon other to their\nhands, and then they drew their swords and smote eagerly at other. And\nat the last Sir Beaumains smote the other upon the helm that his head\nstonied, and therewithal he fell down in the water, and there was he\ndrowned. And then he spurred his horse upon the land, where the other\nknight fell upon him and brake his spear, and so they drew their swords\nand fought long together. At the last Sir Beaumains clave his helm and\nhis head down to the shoulders: and so he rode unto the damsel, and\nbade her ride forth on her way. Alas, she said, that ever a kitchen\npage should have that fortune to destroy such two doughty knights; thou\nweenest thou hast done doughtily; that is not so, for the first knight\nhis horse stumbled, and there he was drowned in the water, and never it\nwas by thy force nor by thy might. And the last knight by mishap thou\ncamest behind him and mishappily thou slewest him. Damsel, said\nBeaumains, ye may say what ye will, but with whomsoever I have ado\nwithall I trust to God to serve him or he depart, and therefore I reck\nnot what ye say, so that I may win your lady. Fie, fie, foul kitchen\nknave, thou shalt see knights that shall abate thy boast. Fair damsel,\ngive me goodly language, and then my care is past, for what knights\nsoever they be I care not, nor I doubt them not. Also, said she, I say\nit for thine avail, yet mayest thou turn again with thy worship, for\nand thou follow me thou art but slain, for I see all that ever thou\ndost is but by misadventure, and not by prowess of thy hands. Well,\ndamsel, ye may say what ye will, but wheresoever ye go I will follow\nyou. So this Beaumains rode with that lady till even-song time, and\never she chid him, and would not rest. And then they came to a black\nlawn, and there was a black hawthorn, and thereon hung a black banner,\nand on the other side there hung a black shield, and by it stood a\nblack spear great and long, and a great black horse covered with silk,\nand a black stone fast by.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How Sir Beaumains fought with the knight of the black lawns, and\n fought with him till he fell down and died._\n\nThere sat a knight all armed in black harness, and his name was the\nknight of the black lawn. Then the damsel, when she saw that knight,\nshe bade him flee down the valley, for his horse was not saddled.\nGramercy, said Beaumains, for always ye would have me a coward. With\nthat the black knight, when she came nigh him, spake and said, Damsel,\nhave ye brought this knight of king Arthur to be your champion? Nay,\nfair knight, said she, this is but a kitchen knave, that was fed in\nking Arthur\u2019s kitchen for alms. Why cometh he, said the knight, in such\narray? it is shame that he beareth you company. Sir, I cannot be\ndelivered of him, said she, for with me he rideth maugre mine head;\nwould that ye should put him from me, or else to slay him and ye may,\nfor he is an unhappy knave, and unhappily he hath done this day;\nthrough mishap I saw him slay two knights at the passage of the water,\nand other deeds he did before right marvellous, and through\nunhappiness. That marvelleth me, said the black knight, that any man\nthat is of worship will have ado with him. They know him not, said the\ndamsel, and because he rideth with me they think he is some man of\nworship born. That may be, said the black knight, how be it as ye say\nthat he be no man of worship, he is a full likely person, and full like\nto be a strong man; but thus much shall I grant you, said the black\nknight, I shall put him down upon one foot, and his horse and his\nharness he shall leave with me, for it were shame to me to do him any\nmore harm. When Sir Beaumains heard him say thus, he said, Sir knight,\nthou art full liberal of my horse and my harness. I let thee wit it\ncost thee nought, and whether it liketh thee or not this lawn will I\npass, maugre thine head, and horse nor harness gettest thou none of me,\nbut if thou win them with thy hands; and therefore let see what thou\ncanst do. Sayest thou that, said the black knight, now yield thy lady\nfrom thee, for it beseemeth never a kitchen page to ride with such a\nlady. Thou liest, said Beaumains, I am a gentleman born, and of more\nhigh lineage than thou, and that will I prove on thy body. Then in\ngreat wrath they departed with their horses, and came together as it\nhad been the thunder; and the black knight\u2019s spear brake, and Beaumains\nthrust him through both his sides, and therewith his spear brake, and\nthe truncheon left still in his side. But nevertheless the black knight\ndrew his sword and smote many eager strokes and of great might, and\nhurt Beaumains full sore. But at the last the black knight within an\nhour and a half he fell down off his horse in a swoon, and there he\ndied. And then Beaumains saw him so well horsed and armed, then he\nalight down, and armed him in his armour, and so took his horse, and\nrode after the damsel. When she saw him come nigh, she said, Away,\nkitchen knave, out of the wind, for the smell of thy foul clothes\ngrieveth me. Alas, she said, that ever such a knave as thou art should\nby mishap slay so good a knight as thou hast done, but all this is\nthine unhappiness. But hereby is one shall pay thee all thy payment,\nand therefore yet I counsel thee, flee. It may happen me, said\nBeaumains, to be beaten or slain, but I warn you, fair damsel, I will\nnot flee away nor leave your company for all that ye can say, for ever\nye say that they will kill me or beat me, but how soever it happeneth I\nescape, and they lie on the ground. And therefore it were as good for\nyou to hold you still, thus all day rebuking me, for away will I not\ntill I see the uttermost of this journey, or else I will be slain or\ntruly beaten; therefore ride on your way, for follow you I will\nwhatsoever happen.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How the brother of the knight that was slain met with Beaumains, and\n fought with Beaumains till he was yielden._\n\nThus as they rode together, they saw a knight come driving by them all\nin green, both his horse and his harness; and when he came nigh the\ndamsel he asked her, Is that my brother the black knight that ye have\nbrought with you? Nay, nay, said she, this unhappy kitchen knave hath\nslain your brother through unhappiness. Alas, said the green knight,\nthat is great pity that so noble a knight as he was should so unhappily\nbe slain, and namely of a knave\u2019s hand, as ye say that he is. Ah!\ntraitor, said the green knight, thou shalt die for slaying of my\nbrother, he was a full noble knight, and his name was Sir Percard. I\ndefy thee, said Beaumains, for I let thee wit I slew him knightly, and\nnot shamefully. Therewithall the green knight rode unto an horn that\nwas green, and it hung upon a thorn, and there he blew three deadly\nnotes, and there came two damsels and armed him lightly. And then took\nhe a great horse, and a green shield and a green spear. And then they\nran together with all their mights, and brake their spears unto their\nhands. And then they drew their swords, and gave many sad strokes, and\neither of them wounded other full ill. And at the last at an overthwart\nBeaumains\u2019 horse struck the green knight\u2019s horse upon the side, he fell\nto the earth. And then the green knight avoided his horse lightly, and\ndressed him upon foot. That saw Beaumains, and therewithal he alight,\nand they rushed together like two mighty champions a long while, and\nsore they bled both. With that came the damsel and said, My lord the\ngreen knight, why for shame stand ye so long fighting with the kitchen\nknave? Alas, it is shame that ever ye were made knight, to see such a\nlad match such a knight, as the weed overgrew the corn. Therewith the\ngreen knight was ashamed, and therewithal he gave a great stroke of\nmight, and clave his shield through. When Beaumains saw his shield\ncloven asunder he was a little ashamed of that stroke, and of her\nlanguage; and then he gave him such a buffet upon the helm that he fell\non his knees: and so suddenly Beaumains pulled him upon the ground\ngroveling. And then the green knight cried him mercy, and yielded him\nunto Sir Beaumains, and prayed him to slay him not. All is in vain,\nsaid Beaumains, for thou shalt die, but if this damsel that came with\nme pray me to save thy life. And therewithal he unlaced his helm, like\nas he would slay him. Fie upon thee, false kitchen page, I will never\npray thee to save his life, for I never will be so much in thy danger.\nThen shall he die, said Beaumains. Not so hardy thou foul knave, said\nthe damsel, that thou slay him. Alas, said the green knight, suffer me\nnot to die, for a fair word may save me. Fair knight, said the green\nknight, save my life, and I will forgive thee the death of my brother,\nand for ever to become thy man, and thirty knights that hold of me for\never shall do you service. In the devil\u2019s name, said the damsel, that\nsuch a foul kitchen knave should have thee and thirty knights\u2019 service.\nSir knight, said Beaumains, all this availeth thee not, but if my\ndamsel speak with me for thy life. And therewithal he made a semblant\nto slay him. Let be, said the damsel, thou foul knave, slay him not,\nfor and thou do thou shalt repent it. Damsel, said Beaumains, your\ncharge is to me a pleasure, and at your commandment his life shall be\nsaved, and else not. Then he said, Sir knight with the green arms, I\nrelease thee quit at this damsel\u2019s request, for I will not make her\nwroth; I will fulfill all that she chargeth me. And then the green\nknight kneeled down, and did him homage with his sword. Then said the\ndamsel, Me repenteth, green knight, of your damage, and of your\nbrother\u2019s death the black knight, for of your help I had great need,\nfor I dread me sore to pass this forest. Nay, dread you not, said the\ngreen knight, for ye shall lodge with me this night, and to morn I\nshall help you through this forest. So they took their horses and rode\nto his manor, which was fast there beside.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How the damsel ever rebuked Sir Beaumains, and would not suffer him to\n sit at her table, but called him kitchen boy._\n\nAnd ever she rebuked Beaumains, and would not suffer him to sit at her\ntable, but as the green knight took him and sat him at a side table.\nMarvel me thinketh, said the green knight to the damsel, why ye rebuke\nthis noble knight as ye do, for I warn you, damsel, he is a full noble\nknight, and I know no knight is able to match him, therefore ye do\ngreat wrong to rebuke him, for he shall do you right good service, for\nwhatsoever he maketh himself ye shall prove at the end that he is come\nof a noble blood, and of king\u2019s lineage. Fie, fie, said the damsel, it\nis shame for you to say of him such worship. Truly, said the green\nknight, it were shame for me to say of him any disworship, for he hath\nproved himself a better knight than I am, yet have I met with many\nknights in my days, and never or this time have I found no knight his\nmatch. And so that night they went unto rest, and all that night the\ngreen knight commanded thirty knights privily to watch Beaumains, for\nto keep him from all treason. And so on the morn they all arose, and\nheard their mass and brake their fast, and then they took their horses\nand rode on their way, and the green knight conveyed them through the\nforest, and there the green knight said, My lord Beaumains, I and these\nthirty knights shall be alway at your summons, both early and late, at\nyour calling, and where that ever ye will send us. It is well said,\nsaid Beaumains; when that I call upon you ye must yield you unto king\nArthur and all your knights. If that ye so command us, we shall be\nready at all times, said the green knight. Fie, fie upon thee, said the\ndamsel, that any good knights should be obedient unto a kitchen knave.\nSo then departed the green knight and the damsel. And then she said\nunto Beaumains, Why followest thou me thou kitchen boy, cast away thy\nshield and thy spear and flee away, yet I counsel thee betimes or thou\nshalt say right soon, Alas! For were thou as wight as ever was Wade, or\nLauncelot, Tristram, or the good knight Sir Lamorake, thou shalt not\npass a pass here, that is called the pass perilous. Damsel, said\nBeaumains, who is afeard let him flee, for it were shame to turn again\nsince I have ridden so long with you. Well, said the damsel, ye shall\nsoon, whether ye will or not.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How the third brother, called the red knight, justed and fought\n against Beaumains, and how Beaumains overcame him._\n\nSo within a while they saw a tower as white as any snow, well matchcold\nall about, and double diked. And over the tower-gate there hung a fifty\nshields of divers colours; and under that tower there was a fair\nmeadow. And therein were many knights and squires to behold scaffolds\nand pavilions, for there upon the morn should be a great tournament;\nand the lord of the tower was in his castle, and looked out at a\nwindow, and saw a damsel, a dwarf, and a knight armed at all points. By\nmy faith, said the lord, with that knight will I just, for I see that\nhe is a knight errant. And so he armed him, and horsed him hastily. And\nwhen he was on horseback with his shield and his spear, it was all red,\nboth his horse and his harness, and all that to him belonged. And when\nthat he came nigh him he wend it had been his brother the black knight.\nAnd then he cried aloud, Brother what do ye in these marches? Nay, nay,\nsaid the damsel, it is not he; this is but a kitchen knave, that was\nbrought up for alms in king Arthur\u2019s court. Nevertheless, said the red\nknight, I will speak with him or he depart. Ah, said the damsel, this\nknave hath killed thy brother, and Sir Kay named him Beaumains, and\nthis horse and harness was thy brother\u2019s the black knight. Also I saw\nthy brother the green knight overcome of his hands. Now may ye be\nrevenged upon him, for I may never be quit of him.\n\nWith this either knight departed in sunder, and they came together with\nall their might, and either of their horses fell to the earth, and they\navoided their horses, and put their shields afore them, and drew their\nswords, and either gave other sad strokes, now here, now there, racing,\ntracing, foining, and hurling like two boars, the space of two hours.\nAnd then she cried on high to the red knight, Alas, thou noble red\nknight, think what worship hath followed thee, let never a kitchen\nknave endure thee so long as he doth. Then the red knight waxed wroth,\nand doubled his strokes, and hurt Beaumains wonderly sore, that the\nblood ran down to the ground, that it was wonder to see that strong\nbattle. Yet at the last Sir Beaumains strake him to the earth, and as\nhe would have slain the red knight he cried mercy, saying, Noble knight\nslay me not, and I shall yield me to thee with fifty knights with me\nthat be at my commandment. And I forgive thee all the despite that thou\nhast done to me, and the death of my brother the black knight. All this\navaileth not, said Sir Beaumains, but if my damsel pray me to save thy\nlife. And therewith he made semblant to strike off his head. Let be,\nthou Beaumains, slay him not, for he is a noble knight, and not so\nhardy upon thine head but thou save him. Then Beaumains bad the red\nknight stand up, and thank the damsel now of thy life. Then the red\nknight prayed him to see his castle, and to be there all night. So the\ndamsel then granted him, and there they had merry cheer. But always the\ndamsel spake many foul words unto Beaumains, whereof the red knight had\ngreat marvel, and all that night the red knight made threescore knights\nto watch Beaumains, that he should have no shame nor villainy. And upon\nthe morn they heard mass, and dined, and the red knight came before\nBeaumains with his threescore knights, and there he proffered him his\nhomage and fealty at all times, he and his knights to do him service. I\nthank you, said Beaumains, but this ye shall grant me when I call upon\nyou, to come afore my lord king Arthur and yield you unto him to be his\nknights. Sir, said the red knight, I will be ready and my fellowship at\nyour summons. So Sir Beaumains departed and the damsel, and ever she\nrode chiding him in the foullest manner.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How Sir Beaumains suffered great rebukes of the damsel, and he\n suffered it patiently._\n\nDamsel, said Beaumains, ye are uncourteous so to rebuke me as ye do,\nfor me seemeth I have done you good service, and ever ye threaten me I\nshall be beaten with knights that we meet, but ever for all your boast\nthey lie in the dust or in the mire, and therefore I pray you rebuke me\nno more: and when ye see me beaten or yielden as recreant, then may ye\nbid me go from you shamefully, but first I let you wit I will not\ndepart from you, for I were worse than a fool and I would depart from\nyou all the while that I win worship. Well, said she, right soon there\nshall meet a knight shall pay thee all thy wages, for he is the most\nman of worship of the world, except king Arthur. I will well, said\nBeaumains; the more he is of worship the more shall be my worship to\nhave ado with him. Then anon they were ware where was before them a\ncity rich and fair. And betwixt them and the city a mile and a half,\nthere was a fair meadow that seemed new mown, and therein were many\npavilions fair to behold. Lo, said the damsel, yonder is a lord that\nowneth yonder city, and his custom is when the weather is fair to lie\nin this meadow to just and tourney; and ever there be about him five\nhundred knights and gentlemen of arms, and there be all manner of games\nthat any gentleman can devise. That goodly lord, said Beaumains, would\nI fain see. Thou shalt see him time enough, said the damsel. And so as\nshe rode near she espied the pavilion where he was. Lo, said she, seest\nthou yonder pavilion, that is all of the colour of Inde, and all manner\nof thing that there is about, men and women, and horses trapped,\nshields and spears, all of the colour of Inde, and his name is Sir\nPersant of Inde, the most lordliest knight that ever thou lookedest on.\nIt may well be, said Beaumains, but be he never so stout a knight, in\nthis field I shall abide till that I see him under his shield. Ah fool,\nsaid she, thou were better flee betimes. Why, said Beaumains, and he be\nsuch a knight as ye make him, he will not set upon me with all his men,\nor with his five hundred knights. For and there come no more but one at\nonce, I shall him not fail whilst my life lasteth. Fie, fie, said the\ndamsel, that ever such a dirty knave should blow such a boast. Damsel,\nhe said, ye are to blame so to rebuke me, for I had lever do five\nbattles than so to be rebuked; let him come, and then let him do his\nworst. Sir, she said, I marvel what thou art, and of what kin thou art\ncome: boldly thou speakest, and boldly thou hast done, that have I\nseen: therefore I pray thee save thyself and thou mayest, for thy horse\nand thou have had great travail, and I dread we dwell over long from\nthe siege, for it is but hence seven mile, and all perilous passages we\nare past, save all only this passage, and here I dread me sore lest ye\nshall catch some hurt, therefore I would ye were hence, that ye were\nnot bruised nor hurt with this strong knight. But I let you wit this\nSir Persant of Inde is nothing of might nor strength unto the knight\nthat laid the siege about my lady. As for that, said Sir Beaumains, be\nit as it may; for since I am come so nigh this knight I will prove his\nmight or I depart from him, and else I shall be shamed and I now\nwithdraw me from him. And therefore, damsel, have ye no doubt by the\ngrace of God I shall so deal with this knight, that within two hours\nafter noon I shall deliver him, and then shall we come to the siege by\nday light. Oh mercy, marvel have I, said the damsel, what manner a man\nye be, for it may never be otherwise but that ye be come of a noble\nblood, for so foul and shamefully did never woman rule a knight as I\nhave done you, and ever courteously ye have suffered me, and that came\nnever but of a gentle blood.\n\nDamsel, said Beaumains, a knight may little do that may not suffer a\ndamsel; for whatsoever ye said unto me I took none heed to your words,\nfor the more ye said the more ye angered me, and my wrath I wreaked\nupon them that I had ado withal. And therefore all the missaying that\nye missayed me furthered me in my battle, and caused me to think to\nshew and prove myself at the end what I was; for peradventure though I\nhad meat in king Arthur\u2019s kitchen, yet I might have had meat enough in\nother places; but all that I did it for to prove and to assay my\nfriends, and that shall be known another day, and whether that I be a\ngentleman born or none, I let you wit, fair damsel, I have done you\ngentleman\u2019s service, and peradventure better service yet will I do or I\ndepart from you. Alas, she said, fair Beaumains, forgive me all that I\nhave missaid or done against thee. With all my heart, said he, I\nforgive it you, for ye did nothing but as ye should do, for all your\nevil words pleased me; and damsel, said Beaumains, since it liketh you\nto say thus fair to me, wit ye well it gladdeth mine heart greatly, and\nnow me seemeth there is no knight living but I am able enough for him.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How Sir Beaumains fought with Sir Persant of Inde, and made him to be\n yielden._\n\nWith this Sir Persant of Inde had espied them as they hoved in the\nfield, and knightly he sent to them whether he came in war or in peace.\nSay to thy lord, said Beaumains, I take no force, but whether as him\nlist himself. So the messenger went again unto Sir Persant, and told\nhim all his answer. Well, then will I have ado with him to the\nutterance. And so he purveyed him and rode against him. And Beaumains\nsaw him and made him ready, and there they met with all that ever their\nhorses might run, and brake their spears either in three pieces, and\ntheir horses rushed so together that both their horses fell dead to the\nearth, and lightly they avoided their horses, and put their shields\nafore them, and drew their swords, and gave many great strokes, that\nsometime they hurtled together that they fell groveling on the ground.\nThus they fought two hours and more, that their shields and their\nhauberks were all forhewn, and in many places they were wounded. So at\nthe last Sir Beaumains smote him through the side of the body, and then\nhe drew him back here and there, and knightly maintained his battle\nlong time. And at the last, though him loth were, Beaumains smote Sir\nPersant above upon the helm that he fell groveling to the earth, and\nthen he lept upon him overthwart, and unlaced his helm to have slain\nhim. Then Sir Persant yielded him and asked him mercy. With that came\nthe damsel, and prayed to save his life. I will well, for it were pity\nthat this noble knight should die. Gramercy, said Persant, gentle\nknight and damsel; for certainly now I wot well it was ye that slew my\nbrother the black knight, at the black thorn; he was a full noble\nknight, his name was Sir Percard. Also, I am sure that ye are he that\nwon mine other brother the green knight, his name was Sir Pertolepe.\nAlso, ye won my brother the red knight Sir Perimones. And now since ye\nhave won these, this shall I do for to please you; ye shall have homage\nand fealty of me, and an hundred knights, to be always at your\ncommandment, to go and ride where ye will command us. And so they went\nunto Sir Persant\u2019s pavilion, and drank the wine and eat spices. And\nafterward Sir Persant made him to rest upon a bed until supper time,\nand after supper to bed again. And so we leave him there till on the\nmorn.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_Of the goodly communication between Sir Persant and Beaumains, and how\n he told him that his name was Sir Gareth._\n\nAnd so on the morn the damsel and Sir Beaumains heard mass and brake\ntheir fast, and so took their leave. Fair damsel, said Persant,\nwhitherward are ye away leading this knight? Sir, she said, this knight\nis going to the siege that besiegeth my sister in the castle dangerous.\nAh, ah, said Persant, that is the knight of the red lawn, the which is\nthe most perilous knight that I know now living, and a man that is\nwithout mercy, and men say that he hath seven men\u2019s strength. God save\nyou, said he to Beaumains, from that knight, for he doth great wrong to\nthat lady, and that is great pity, for she is one of the fairest ladies\nof the world, and me seemeth that your damsel is her sister. Is not\nyour name Linet? said he. Yea, sir, said she, and my lady my sister\u2019s\nname is dame Liones. Now shall I tell you, said Sir Persant, this red\nknight of the red lawn hath lain long at the siege, well nigh this two\nyears, and many times he might have had her and he had would, but he\nprolongeth the time to this intent for to have Sir Launcelot du Lake to\ndo battle with him, or Sir Tristram, or Sir Lamorak de Galis, or Sir\nGawaine: and this is his tarrying so long at the siege. Now, my lord\nSir Persant of Inde, said the damsel Linet, I require you that ye will\nmake this gentleman knight, or ever he fight with the red knight. I\nwill with all my heart, said Sir Persant, and it please him to take the\norder of knighthood of so simple a man as I am. Sir, said Beaumains, I\nthank you for your good will, for I am better sped, for certainly the\nnoble knight Sir Launcelot made me knight. Ah, said Persant, of a more\nrenowned knight might ye not be made knight. For of all knights he may\nbe called chief of knighthood: and so all the world saith that betwixt\nthree knights is parted clearly knighthood that is Launcelot du Lake,\nSir Tristram de Liones, and Sir Lamorak de Galis: these bear now the\nrenown. There be many other knights, as Sir Palamides the Saracen, and\nSir Sasere his brother; also Sir Bleoberis, and Sir Blamore de Ganis\nhis brother; also Sir Bors de Ganis, and Sir Ector de Maris, and Sir\nPercivale de Galis; these and many more be noble knights, but there be\nnone that pass the three above said; therefore God speed you well, said\nSir Persant, for and ye may match the red knight ye shall be called the\nfourth of the world. Sir, said Beaumains, I would fain be of good fame\nand of knighthood. And I let you wit I came of good men, for I dare say\nmy father was a noble man, and so that ye will keep it in close, and\nthis damsel, I will tell you of what kin I am. We will not discover\nyou, said they both, till ye command us, by the faith we owe unto God.\nTruly then, said he, my name is Gareth of Orkney, and king Lot was my\nfather, and my mother is king Arthur\u2019s sister; her name is dame\nMorgawse, and Sir Gawaine is my brother, and Sir Agravaine, and Sir\nGaheris, and I am the youngest of them all. And yet wot not king Arthur\nnor Sir Gawaine what I am.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How the lady that was besieged had word from her sister how she had\n brought a knight to fight for her, and what battles he had achieved._\n\nSo the book saith that the lady that was besieged had word of her\nsister\u2019s coming by the dwarf, and a knight with her, and how he had\npassed all the perilous passages. What manner a man is he? said the\nlady. He is a noble knight, truly, madam, said the dwarf, and but a\nyoung man, but he is as likely a man as ever ye saw any. What is he,\nsaid the lady, and of what kin is he come, and of whom was he made\nknight? Madam, said the dwarf, he is the king\u2019s son of Orkney, but his\nname I will not tell you as at this time; but wit ye well, of Sir\nLauncelot was he made knight, for of none other would he be made\nknight, and Sir Kay named him Beaumains. How escaped he, said the lady,\nfrom the brethren of Persant? Madam, he said, as a noble knight should.\nFirst, he slew two brethren at a passage of a water. Ah! said she, they\nwere good knights, but they were murderers, the one hight Gherard de\nBreusse, and that other knight hight Sir Arnold de Breusse. Then,\nmadam, he recountered with the black knight, and slew him in plain\nbattle, and so he took his horse and his armour and fought with the\ngreen knight, and wan him in plain battle, and in likewise he served\nthe red knight, and after in the same wise he served the blue knight,\nand wan him in plain battle. Then, said the lady, he hath overcome Sir\nPersant of Inde, one of the noblest knights of the world. And the dwarf\nsaid, He hath won all the four brethren, and slain the black knight.\nAnd yet he did more tofore: he overthrew Sir Kay, and left him nigh\ndead upon the ground; also he did a great battle with Sir Launcelot,\nand there they departed on even hands: and then Sir Launcelot made him\nknight. Dwarf, said the lady, I am glad of these tidings, therefore go\nthou in an hermitage of mine here by, and there shalt thou bear with\nthee of my wine in two flaggons of silver, they are of two gallons, and\nalso two cast of bread, with fat venison baked, and dainty fowls; and a\ncup of gold here I deliver thee, that is rich and precious, and bear\nall this to mine hermitage, and put it in the hermit\u2019s hands. And then\ngo thou unto my sister and greet her well, and command me unto that\ngentle knight, and pray him to eat and to drink, and make him strong;\nand say ye him I thank him of his courtesy and goodness, that he would\ntake upon him such labour for me that never did him bounty nor\ncourtesy. Also pray him that he be of good heart and good courage, for\nhe shall meet with a full noble knight, but he is neither of bounty,\ncourtesy, nor gentleness, for he attendeth unto no thing but to murder,\nand that is the cause I cannot praise him nor love him. So this dwarf\ndeparted and came to Sir Persant, where he found the damsel Linet and\nSir Beaumains, and there he told them all as ye have heard, and then\nthey took their leave; but Sir Persant took an ambling hackney and\nconveyed them on their ways and then beleft them to God. And so within\na little while they came to that hermitage, and there they drank the\nwine, and eat the venison and the fowls baken.\n\nAnd so when they had repasted them well, the dwarf returned again with\nhis vessel unto the castle again, and there met with him the red knight\nof the red lawns, and asked him from whence that he came, and where he\nhad been. Sir, said the dwarf, I have been with my lady\u2019s sister of\nthis castle, and she hath been at king Arthur\u2019s court, and brought a\nknight with her. Then I account her travail but lost. For though she\nhad brought with her Sir Launcelot, Sir Tristram, Sir Lamorak, or Sir\nGawaine, I would think myself good enough for them all. It may well be,\nsaid the dwarf, but this knight hath passed all the perilous passages,\nand hath slain the black knight, and other two more, and won the green\nknight, the red knight, and the blue knight. Then is he one of these\nfour that I have afore rehearsed. He is none of those, said the dwarf,\nbut he is a king\u2019s son. What is his name? said the red knight of the\nred lawn. That will I not tell you, said the dwarf, but Sir Kay upon\nscorn named him Beaumains. I care not, said the knight, what knight\nsoever he be, for I shall soon deliver him; and if I ever match him he\nshall have a shameful death, as many other have had. That were pity,\nsaid the dwarf, and it is marvel that ye make such shameful war upon\nnoble knights.\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n_How the damsel and Beaumains came to the siege, and came to a sycamore\n tree, and there Beaumains blew a horn, and then the knight of the red\n lawns came to fight with him._\n\nNow leave we the knight and the dwarf, and speak we of Beaumains, that\nall night lay in the hermitage, and upon the morn he and the damsel\nLinet heard their mass, and brake their fast. And then they took their\nhorses and rode throughout a fair forest, and then they came to a\nplain, and saw where were many pavilions and tents, and a fair castle,\nand there was much smoke and great noise. And when they came near the\nsiege Sir Beaumains espied upon great trees, as he rode, how there hung\nfull goodly armed knights by the neck, and their shields about their\nnecks with their swords, and gilt spurs upon their heels, and so there\nhung nigh a forty knights shamefully with full rich arms. Then Sir\nBeaumains abated his countenance, and said, What meaneth this? Fair\nSir, said the damsel, abate not your cheer for all this sight, for ye\nmust encourage yourself, or else ye be all shent, for all these knights\ncame hither to this siege to rescue my sister dame Liones, and when the\nred knight of the red lawn had overcome them he put them to this\nshameful death, without mercy and pity. And in the same wise he will\nserve you but if ye quit you better. Now Jesu defend me, said Sir\nBeaumains, from such a villainous death and disgrace of arms, for\nrather than I should so be farewithal, I would rather be slain manly in\nplain battle. So were ye better, said the damsel; for trust not in him\nis no courtesy, but all goeth to the death or shameful murder; and that\nis pity, for he is a full likely man, well made of body, and a full\nnoble knight of prowess, and a lord of great lands and possessions.\nTruly, said Beaumains, he may well be a good knight, but he useth\nshameful customs, and it is marvel that he endureth so long, that none\nof the noble knights of my lord Arthur have not dealt with him. And\nthen they rode to the dikes, and saw them double diked with full\nwarlike walls, and there were lodged many great lords nigh the walls,\nand there was great noise of minstrelsy, and the sea betid upon the one\nside of the walls, where were many ships and mariners\u2019 noise, with\n\u2018hale and how.\u2019 And also, there was fast by a sycamore tree, and there\nhung a horn, the greatest that ever they saw, of an elephant\u2019s bone,\nand this knight of the red lawn had hanged it up there, that if there\ncame any errant knight he must blow that horn, and then will he make\nhim ready, and come to him to do battle. But Sir, I pray you, said the\ndamsel Linet, blow ye not the horn till it be high noon, for now it is\nabout prime, and now encreaseth his might, that, as men say, he hath\nseven men\u2019s strength. Ah, fie for shame, fair damsel, say ye never so\nmore to me, for, and he were as good a knight as ever was, I shall\nnever fail him in his most might, for either I will win worship\nworshipfully, or die knightly in the field. And therewith he spurred\nhis horse straight to the sycamore tree, and blew so the horn eagerly\nthat all the siege and the castle rang thereof. And then there lept out\nknights out of their tents and pavilions, and they within the castle\nlooked over the walls and out at windows. Then the red knight of the\nred lawns armed him hastily, and two barons set on his spurs upon his\nheels, and all was blood-red, his armour, spear, and shield. And an\nearl buckled his helm upon his head, and then they brought him a red\nspear and a red steed, and so he rode into a little vale under the\ncastle, that all that were in the castle and at the siege might behold\nthe battle.\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n_How the two knights met together, and of their talking, and how they\n began their battle._\n\nSir, said the damsel Linet unto Sir Beaumains, look ye be glad and\nlight, for yonder is your deadly enemy, and at yonder window is my lady\nmy sister, dame Liones. Where? said Beaumains. Yonder, said the damsel,\nand pointed with her finger. That is truth, said Beaumains. She\nbeseemeth afar the fairest lady that ever I looked upon, and truly, he\nsaid, I ask no better quarrel than now for to do battle, for truly she\nshall be my lady, and for her I will fight. And ever he looked up to\nthe window with glad countenance. And the lady Liones made courtesy to\nhim down to the earth, with holding up both their hands. With that the\nred knight of the red lawns called to Sir Beaumains, Leave, sir knight,\nthy looking, and behold me, I counsel thee, for I warn thee well she is\nmy lady, and for her I have done many strong battles. If thou have so\ndone, said Beaumains, me seemeth it was but waste labour, for she\nloveth none of thy fellowship, and thou to love that loveth not thee,\nis but great folly. For and I understood that she were not glad of my\ncoming I would be advised or I did battle for her. But I understand by\nthe besieging of this castle, she may forbear thy fellowship. And\ntherefore wit thou well, thou red knight of the red lawns, I love her,\nand will rescue her, or else to die. Sayest thou that, said the red\nknight, me seemeth thou ought of reason to beware by yonder knights\nthat thou sawest hang upon yonder trees. Fie for shame, said Beaumains,\nthat ever thou shouldest say or do so evil, for in that thou shamest\nthyself and knighthood, and thou mayest be sure there will no lady love\nthee that knoweth thy wicked customs. And now thou weenest that the\nsight of these hanged knights should fear me. Nay truly, not so, that\nshameful sight causeth me to have courage and hardiness against thee,\nmore than I would have had against thee and thou were a well-ruled\nknight. Make thee ready, said the red knight of the red lawns, and talk\nno longer with me. Then Sir Beaumains bad the damsel go from him, and\nthen they put their spears in their rests, and came together with all\ntheir might that they had both, and either smote other in the midst of\ntheir shields, that the breastplates, horsegirths, and cruppers brast,\nand fell to the earth both, and the reins of their bridles in their\nhands, and so they lay a great while sore astonied; and all they that\nwere in the castle and in the siege wend their necks had been broken,\nand then many a stranger and other said the strange knight was a big\nman and a noble juster, for or now we saw never no knight match the red\nknight of the red lawns: thus they said, both within the castle and\nwithout. Then lightly they avoided their horses, and put their shields\nafore them, and drew their swords, and ran together like two fierce\nlions, and either gave other such buffets upon their helms that they\nreeled backward both two strides, and then they recovered both, and\nhewed great pieces of their harness and their shields, that a great\npart fell into the fields.\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n_How after long fighting Beaumains overcame the knight and would have\n slain him, but at the request of the lords he saved his life, and\n made him to yield him to the lady._\n\nAnd then thus they fought till it was past noon and never would stint\ntill at last they lacked wind both, and then they stood wagging and\nscattering, panting, blowing and bleeding, that all that beheld them\nfor the most part wept for pity. So when they had rested them a while\nthey went to battle again, tracing, racing, foining, as two boars. And\nat sometime they took their run as it had been two rams, and hurtled\ntogether that sometime they fell groveling to the earth: and at\nsometime they were so amazed that either took other\u2019s sword in stead of\nhis own.\n\nThus they endured till even-song time, that there was none that beheld\nthem might know whether was like to win the battle; and their armour\nwas so far hewn that men might see their naked sides, and in other\nplaces they were naked, but ever the naked places they did defend. And\nthe red knight was a wily knight of war, and his wily fighting taught\nSir Beaumains to be wise; but he abought it full sore ere he did espy\nhis fighting. And thus by assent of them both, they granted either\nother to rest; and so they set them down upon two mole-hills there\nbeside the fighting place, and either of them unlaced his helm and took\nthe cold wind, for either of their pages was fast by them, to come when\nthey called to unlace their harness and to set them on again at their\ncommandment. And then when Sir Beaumains\u2019 helm was off he looked by to\nthe window, and there he saw the fair lady dame Liones; and she made\nhim such countenance that his heart waxed light and jolly; and\ntherewith he bade the red knight of the red lawns make him ready, and\nlet us do the battle to the utterance. I will well, said the knight.\nAnd then they laced up their helms, and their pages avoided, and they\nstept together and fought freshly. But the red knight of the red lawns\nawaited him, and at an overthwart smote him within the hand, that his\nsword fell out of his hand: and yet he gave him another buffet on the\nhelm that he fell groveling to the earth, and the red knight fell over\nhim for to hold him down. Then cried the maiden Linet on high, O Sir\nBeaumains, where is thy courage become! Alas, my lady my sister\nbeholdeth thee, and she sobbeth and weepeth, that maketh mine heart\nheavy. When Sir Beaumains heard her say so, he started up with a great\nmight and gat him upon his feet, and lightly he lept to his sword and\ngriped it in his hand, and doubled his pace unto the red knight, and\nthere they fought a new battle together. But Sir Beaumains then doubled\nhis strokes, and smote so thick that he smote the sword out of his\nhand, and then he smote him upon the helm that he fell to the earth,\nand Sir Beaumains fell upon him, and unlaced his helm to have slain\nhim; and then he yielded him and asked mercy, and said with a loud\nvoice, O noble knight I yield me to thy mercy. Then Sir Beaumains\nbethought him upon the knights that he had made to be hanged\nshamefully, and then he said, I may not with my worship save thy life,\nfor the shameful deaths thou hast caused many full good knights to die.\nSir, said the red knight of the red lawns, hold your hand and ye shall\nknow the causes why I put them to so shameful a death. Say on, said Sir\nBeaumains. Sir, I loved once a lady, a fair damsel, and she had her\nbrother slain, and she said it was Sir Launcelot du Lake, or else Sir\nGawaine, and she prayed me as that I loved her heartily that I would\nmake her a promise by the faith of my knighthood, for to labour daily\nin arms until I met with one of them, and all that I might overcome I\nshould put them unto a villainous death; and this is the cause that I\nhave put all these knights to death, and so I ensured her to do all the\nvillainy unto king Arthur\u2019s knights, and that I should take vengeance\nupon all these knights. And, Sir, now I will thee tell that every day\nmy strength encreaseth till noon, and all this time have I seven men\u2019s\nstrength.\n\n\n CHAP. XVIII.\n\n_How the knight yielded him, and how Beaumains made him to go unto king\n Arthur\u2019s court, and to cry Sir Launcelot mercy._\n\nThen came there many earls, and barons, and noble knights, and prayed\nthat knight to save his life, and take him to your prisoner: and all\nthey fell upon their knees and prayed him of mercy, and that he would\nsave his life, and, Sir, they all said, it were fairer of him to take\nhomage and fealty, and let him hold his lands of you, than for to slay\nhim: by his death ye shall have none advantage, and his misdeeds that\nbe done may not be undone; and therefore he shall make amends to all\nparties, and we all will become your men, and do you homage and fealty.\nFair lords, said Beaumains, wit you well I am full loth to slay this\nknight, nevertheless he hath done passing ill and shamefully. But\ninsomuch all that he did was at a lady\u2019s request I blame him the less,\nand so for your sake I will release him, that he shall have his life\nupon this covenant, that he go within the castle and yield him there to\nthe lady, and if she will forgive and quit him, I will well; with this\nthat he make her amends of all the trespass he hath done against her\nand her lands. And also, when that is done, that ye go unto the court\nof king Arthur, and there that ye ask Sir Launcelot mercy, and Sir\nGawaine, for the evil will ye have had against them. Sir, said the red\nknight of the red lawns, all this will I do as ye command, and certain\nassurance and sureties ye shall have. And so then when the assurance\nwas made, he made his homage and fealty, and all those earls and barons\nwith him. And then the maiden Linet came to Sir Beaumains and unarmed\nhim, and searched his wounds, and stinted his blood, and in likewise\nshe did to the red knight of the red lawns. And there they sojourned\nten days in their tents, and the red knight made his lords and servants\nto do all the pleasure that they might unto Sir Beaumains. And so\nwithin a while the red knight of the red lawns went unto the castle and\nput him in the lady Liones\u2019 grace, and so she received him upon\nsufficient surety; so all her hurts were well restored of all that she\ncould complain. And then he departed unto the court of king Arthur, and\nthere openly the red knight of the red lawns put him in the mercy of\nSir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine, and there he told openly how he was\novercome and by whom, and also he told all the battles from the\nbeginning unto the ending. Mercy, said king Arthur and Sir Gawaine, we\nmarvel much of what blood he is come, for he is a noble knight. Have ye\nno marvel, said Sir Launcelot, for ye shall right well wit that he is\ncome of a full noble blood, and as for his might and hardiness there be\nbut few now living that is so mighty as he is, and so noble of prowess.\nIt seemeth by you, said king Arthur, that ye know his name, and from\nwhence he is come, and of what blood he is. I suppose I do so, said\nLauncelot, or else I would not have given him the order of knighthood;\nbut he gave me such charge at that time that I should never discover\nhim until he required me, or else it be known openly by some other.\n\n\n CHAP. XIX.\n\n_How Beaumains came to the lady, and when he came to the castle the\n gates were closed against him, and of the words that the lady said to\n him._\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Beaumains, that desired of Linet that he might see\nher sister his lady. Sir, said she, I would fain ye saw her. Then Sir\nBeaumains all armed him, and took his horse and his spear, and rode\nstraight unto the castle. And when he came to the gate he found there\nmany men armed, and pulled up the drawbridge and drew the port close.\nThen marvelled he why they would not suffer him to enter. And then he\nlooked up to the window; and there he saw the fair Liones, that said on\nhigh, Go thy way, Sir Beaumains, for as yet thou shalt not have wholly\nmy love, unto the time that thou be called one of the number of the\nworthy knights. And therefore go labour in worship this twelvemonth,\nand then thou shalt hear new tidings. Alas, fair lady, said Beaumains,\nI have not deserved that ye should shew me this strangeness, and I had\nwend that I should have right good cheer with you, and unto my power I\nhave deserved thank, and well I am sure I have bought your love with\npart of the best blood within my body. Fair courteous knight, said dame\nLiones, be not displeased nor over hasty; for wit ye well your great\ntravail nor good love shall not be lost, for I consider your great\ntravail and labour, your bounty and your goodness, as me ought to do.\nAnd therefore go on your way, and look that ye be of good comfort, for\nall shall be for your worship and for the best, and perdy a twelvemonth\nwill soon be done, and trust me, fair knight, I shall be true to you,\nand never to betray you, but to my death I shall love you and none\nother. And therewithal she turned her from the window; and Sir\nBeaumains rode away ward from the castle, making great dole, and so he\nrode here and there, and wist not where he rode, till it was dark\nnight. And then it happened him to come to a poor man\u2019s house, and\nthere he was harboured all that night. But Sir Beaumains had no rest,\nbut wallowed and writhed for the love of the lady of the castle. And so\nupon the morrow he took his horse, and rode until underne, and then he\ncame to a broad water, and thereby was a great lodge, and there he\nalight to sleep, and laid his head upon the shield, and betook his\nhorse to the dwarf, and commanded him to watch all night. Now turn we\nto the lady of the same castle that thought much upon Beaumains, and\nthen she called unto her Sir Gringamore her brother, and prayed him in\nall manner, as he loved her heartily, that he would ride after Sir\nBeaumains, and ever have ye wait upon him till ye may find him\nsleeping, for I am sure in his heaviness he will alight down in some\nplace and lay him down to sleep: and therefore have ye your wait upon\nhim, and in the priviest manner ye can, take his dwarf, and go ye your\nway with him as fast as ever ye may or Sir Beaumains awake. For my\nsister Linet telleth me that he can tell of what kindred he is come,\nand what is his right name. And the mean while I and my sister will\nride unto your castle to await when ye bring with you the dwarf. And\nthen when ye have brought him unto your castle I will have him in\nexamination myself: unto the time I know what is his right name and of\nwhat kindred he is come, shall I never be merry at my heart. Sister,\nsaid Sir Gringamore, all this shall be done after your intent. And so\nhe rode all the other day and the night till that he found Sir\nBeaumains lying by a water, and his head upon his shield, for to sleep.\nAnd then when he saw Sir Beaumains fast on sleep, he came stilly\nstalking behind the dwarf, and plucked him fast under his arm, and so\nhe rode away with him as fast as ever he might unto his own castle. And\nthis Sir Gringamore\u2019s arms were all black, and that to him belonged.\nBut ever as he rode with the dwarf toward his castle, he cried unto his\nlord and prayed him of help. And therewith awoke Sir Beaumains, and up\nhe lept lightly, and saw where Sir Gringamore rode his way with the\ndwarf, and so Sir Gringamore rode out of his sight.\n\n\n CHAP. XX.\n\n_How Sir Beaumains rode after to rescue his dwarf, and came into the\n castle where he was._\n\nThen Sir Beaumains put on his helm anon, and buckled his shield, and\ntook his horse and rode after him all that ever he might ride, through\nmarshes and fields and great dales, that many times his horse and he\nplunged over the head in deep mires, for he knew not the way, but took\nthe gainest way in that fury, that many times he was like to perish.\nAnd at the last him happened to come to a fair green way, and there he\nmet with a poor man of the country whom he saluted, and asked him\nwhether he met not with a knight upon a black horse and all black\nharness, and a little dwarf sitting behind him with heavy cheer. Sir,\nsaid this poor man, here by me came Sir Gringamore the knight, with\nsuch a dwarf mourning as ye say, and therefore I counsel you not follow\nhim, for he is one of the most perilous knights of the world, and his\ncastle is here nigh hand but two mile, therefore we advise you ride not\nafter Sir Gringamore, but if ye owe him good will.\n\nSo leave we Sir Beaumains riding toward the castle, and speak we of Sir\nGringamore and the dwarf. Anon as the dwarf was come to the castle,\ndame Liones and dame Linet her sister, asked the dwarf where was his\nmaster born, and of what lineage he was come? And but if thou tell me,\nsaid dame Liones, thou shalt never escape this castle, but ever here to\nbe prisoner. As for that, said the dwarf, I fear not greatly to tell\nhis name, and of what kin he is come. Wit ye well he is a king\u2019s son,\nand his mother is sister to king Arthur, and he is brother to the good\nknight Sir Gawaine, and his name is Sir Gareth of Orkney. And now I\nhave told you his right name, I pray you, fair lady, let me go to my\nlord again, for he will never out of this country until that he have me\nagain. And if he be angry he will do much harm or that he be stint, and\nwork you wrack in this country. As for that threatening, said Sir\nGringamore, be it as it be may, we will go to dinner. And so they\nwashed and went to meat, and made them merry and well at ease, and\nbecause the lady Liones of the castle was there they made great joy.\nTruly madam, said Linet unto her sister, well may he be a king\u2019s son,\nfor he hath many good taches on him, for he is courteous and mild, and\nthe most suffering man that ever I met withall. For I dare say there\nwas never gentlewoman reviled man in so foul manner as I have rebuked\nhim; and at all times he gave me goodly and meek answers again. And as\nthey sat thus talking, there came Sir Gareth in at the gate with an\nangry countenance, and his sword drawn in his hand, and cried aloud\nthat all the castle might hear it, saying, Thou traitor Sir Gringamore,\ndeliver me my dwarf again, or by the faith that I owe to the order of\nknighthood, I shall do thee all the harm that I can. Then Sir\nGringamore looked out at a window and said, Sir Gareth of Orkney, leave\nthy boasting words, for thou gettest not thy dwarf again. Thou coward\nknight, said Sir Gareth, bring him with thee, and come and do battle\nwith me, and win him and take him. So will I do, said Sir Gringamore,\nand me list, but for all thy great words thou gettest him not. Ah! fair\nbrother, said dame Liones, I would he had his dwarf again, for I would\nhe were not wroth, for now he hath told me all my desire I keep no more\nof the dwarf. And also, brother, he hath done much for me, and\ndelivered me from the red knight of the red lawns, and therefore,\nbrother, I owe him my service afore all knights living. And wit ye well\nthat I love him before all other, and full fain I would speak with him.\nBut in no wise I would that he wist what I were, but that I were\nanother strange lady. Well, said Sir Gringamore, since I know now your\nwill, I will obey now unto him. And right therewithall he went down\nunto Sir Gareth, and said, Sir, I cry you mercy, and all that I have\nmisdone I will amend it at your will. And therefore I pray you that ye\nwould alight, and take such cheer as I can make you in this castle.\nShall I have my dwarf? said Sir Gareth. Yea, sir, and all the pleasure\nthat I can make you; for as soon as your dwarf told me what ye were,\nand of what blood ye are come, and what noble deeds ye have done in\nthese marches, then I repented of my deeds. And then Sir Gareth alight,\nand there came his dwarf and took his horse. O my fellow, said Sir\nGareth, I have had many adventures for thy sake. And so Sir Gringamore\ntook him by the hand, and led him into the hall where his own wife was.\n\n\n CHAP. XXI.\n\n_How Sir Gareth, otherwise called Beaumains, came to the presence of\n his lady, and how they took acquaintance, and of their love._\n\nAnd then came forth dame Liones arrayed like a princess, and there she\nmade him passing good cheer, and he her again. And they had goodly\nlanguage and lovely countenance together. And Sir Gareth thought many\ntimes, Would that the lady of the castle perilous were so fair as she\nwas. There were all manner of games and plays of dancing and singing.\nAnd ever the more Sir Gareth beheld that lady, the more he loved her,\nand so he burned in love that he was past himself in his reason. And\nforth toward night they went unto supper, and Sir Gareth might not eat\nfor his love was so hot, that he wist not where he was. All these looks\nespied Sir Gringamore, and then after supper he called his sister dame\nLiones unto a chamber and said, Fair sister, I have well espied your\ncountenance between you and this knight, and I will, sister, that ye\nwit he is a full noble knight, and if ye can make him to abide here I\nwill do to him all the pleasure that I can, for and ye were better than\nye are, ye were well bestowed upon him. Fair brother, said dame Liones,\nI understand well that the knight is good, and come he is of a noble\nhouse. Notwithstanding I will assay him better, how be it I am most\nbeholding to him of any earthly man, for he hath had great labour for\nmy love, and passed many a dangerous passage. Right so Sir Gringamore\nwent unto Sir Gareth and said, Sir, make ye good cheer, for ye shall\nhave none other cause, for this lady my sister is yours at all times,\nher worship saved, for wit ye well she loveth you as well as ye do her,\nand better if better may be. And I wist that, said Sir Gareth, there\nlived not a gladder man than I would be. Upon my worship, said Sir\nGringamore, trust unto my promise; and as long as it liketh you ye\nshall sojourn with me, and this lady shall be with us daily and nightly\nto make you all the cheer that she can. I will well, said Sir Gareth,\nfor I have promised to be nigh this country this twelvemonth. And well\nI am sure king Arthur and other noble knights will find me where that I\nam within this twelvemonth. For I shall be sought and found, if that I\nbe on live. And then the noble knight Sir Gareth went unto the dame\nLiones, which he then much loved, and kissed her many times, and either\nmade great joy of other. And there she promised him her love, certainly\nto love him and none other the days of her life. Then this lady, dame\nLiones, by the assent of her brother, told Sir Gareth all the truth\nwhat she was, and how she was the same lady that he did battle for, and\nhow she was lady of the castle perilous. And there she told him how she\ncaused her brother to take away his dwarf.\n\n\n CHAP. XXII.\n\n_How, at night, came an armed knight and fought with Sir Gareth, and\n he, sore hurt in the thigh, smote off the knight\u2019s head._\n\nFor this cause, to know the certainty what was your name, and of what\nkin ye were come. And then she let fetch before him Linet the damsel,\nwhich had ridden with him many dreary ways. Then was Sir Gareth more\ngladder than he was tofore. And then they troth plight each other to\nlove, and never to fail while their life lasted. And at after supper\nwas made clean avoidance, that every lord and lady should go unto his\nrest. But Sir Gareth said plainly that he would go no further than the\nhall, for in such places, he said, was convenient for an errant knight\nto take his rest in. And so there were ordained great couches, and\nthereon feather beds, and there laid him down to sleep. And within\nawhile he looked afore him and perceived and saw come an armed knight,\nwith many lights about him. And this knight had a long battle-axe in\nhis hand, and made grim countenance to smite him. When Sir Gareth saw\nhim come in that wise, he lept out of his bed, and gat in his hand his\nsword, and lept straight toward that knight. And when the knight saw\nSir Gareth come so fiercely upon him, he smote him with a thrust\nthrough the thick of the thigh, that the wound was a shaftmon broad,\nand had cut a-two many veins and sinews. And therewithal Sir Gareth\nsmote him upon the helm such a buffet that he fell groveling, and then\nhe lept over him, and unlaced his helm, and smote off his head from the\nbody. And then he bled so fast that he might not stand, but so he laid\nhim down upon his bed, and there he swooned, and lay as he had been\ndead. Then dame Liones found him, and cried aloud, that her brother Sir\nGringamore heard and came down. And when he saw Sir Gareth so\nshamefully wounded, he was sore displeased, and said, I am shamed that\nthis noble knight is thus honoured. Sister, said Sir Gringamore, How\nmay this be that ye be here, and this noble knight wounded? Brother,\nsaid dame Liones, I cannot tell you, for it was not done by me, nor by\nmine assent. For he is my lord, and I am his, and he must be my\nhusband, therefore, brother, I will that ye wit I shame me not to be\nwith him, nor to do him all the pleasure that I can. Sister, said Sir\nGringamore, and I will that ye wit it, and Sir Gareth both, that it was\nnever done by me nor by mine assent that this unhappy deed was done.\nAnd there they stanched his bleeding as well as they might. And great\nsorrow made Sir Gringamore and dame Liones. And forthwithal came dame\nLinet and took up the head in the sight of them all, and anointed it\nwith an ointment there as it was smitten off, and in the same wise she\ndid to the other part there as the head stuck, and then she set it\ntogether, and it stuck as fast as ever it did. And the knight arose\nlightly up, and the damsel Linet put him in her chamber. All this saw\nSir Gringamore and dame Liones, and so did Sir Gareth, and well he\nespied that it was the damsel Linet that rode with him through the\nperilous passages. Ah well, damsel, said Sir Gareth, I wend ye would\nnot have done as ye have done. My lord Gareth, said the damsel Linet,\nall that I have done I will avow, and all that I have done shall be for\nyour honour and worship, and to us all. And so within a while, Sir\nGareth was nigh whole, and waxed light and jocund, and sang, danced,\nand gamed. And at night, because he was wounded afore, he laid his\narmour and his sword nigh his bed side.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIII.\n\n_How the said knight came again the next night, and was beheaded again.\n And how at the feast of Pentecost all the knights that Sir Gareth had\n overcome came and yielded them to king Arthur._\n\nRight as soon as Sir Gareth was in his bed he espied an armed knight\ncoming toward the bed, and therewith he leaped lightly out, and they\nhurtled together with great ire and malice all about the hall, and\nthere was great light as it had been the number of twenty torches both\nbefore and behind, so that Sir Gareth strained him so that his old\nwound burst out again bleeding, but he was hot and courageous, and took\nno keep, but with his great force he struck down that knight, and\nvoided his helm and struck off his head. Then he hewed the head in an\nhundred pieces. And when he had done so, he took up all those pieces\nand threw them out at a window into the ditches of the castle; and by\nthis done he was so faint that scarcely he might stand for bleeding.\nAnd then he fell in a deadly swoon in the floor. And then dame Liones\nfound him, and cried so that Sir Gringamore heard. And when he came and\nfound Sir Gareth in that plight, he made great sorrow, and there he\nawaked Sir Gareth, and gave him a drink that relieved him wonderly\nwell, but the sorrow that dame Liones made there may no tongue tell,\nfor she so fared with herself as she would have died. Right so came\nthis damsel Linet before them all, and she had fetched all the gobbets\nof the head that Sir Gareth had thrown out at a window, and there she\nanointed them as she had done tofore, and set them together again.\nWell, damsel Linet, said Sir Gareth, I have not deserved all this\ndespite that ye do unto me. Sir knight, she said, I have nothing done\nbut I will avow, and all that I have done shall be to your worship and\nto us all. And then was Sir Gareth stanched of his bleeding. But the\nleeches said that there was no man that bare the life should heal him\nthroughout of his wound, but if they healed him that caused that stroke\nby enchantment.\n\nSo leave we Sir Gareth there with Sir Gringamore and his sisters, and\nturn we unto king Arthur, that at the next feast of Pentecost held his\nfeast, and there came the green knight with fifty knights, and yielded\nthem all unto king Arthur. And so there came the red knight, his\nbrother, and yielded him to king Arthur, and threescore knights with\nhim. Also there came the blue knight, brother to them, with an hundred\nknights, and yielded them unto king Arthur. And the green knight\u2019s name\nwas Pertolepe, and the red knight\u2019s name was Perimones, and the blue\nknight\u2019s name was Sir Persant of Inde. These three brethren told king\nArthur how they were overcome by a knight that a damsel had with her,\nand called him Beaumains. By my faith, said the king, I marvel what\nknight he is, and of what lineage he is come; he was with me a\ntwelvemonth, and poorly and shamefully he was fostered, and Sir Kay in\nscorn named him Beaumains. So right as the king stood so talking with\nthese three brethren there came Sir Launcelot du Lake, and told the\nking that there was come a goodly lord with six hundred knights with\nhim. Then the king went out of Carlion, for there was the least, and\nthere came to him this lord, and saluted the king in a goodly manner.\nWhat will ye? said king Arthur, and what is your errand? Sir, he said,\nmy name is the red knight of the red lawns, but my name is Sir\nIronside, and, sir, wit ye well here I am sent to you of a knight that\nis called Beaumains, for he won me in plain battle, hand for hand, and\nso did never no knight but he that ever had the better of me this\nthirty winter, the which commanded to yield me to you at your will. Ye\nare welcome, said the king, for ye have been long a great foe to me and\nto my court, and now I trust I shall so entreat you that ye shall be my\nfriend. Sir, both I and these six hundred knights shall always be at\nyour summons to do you service as may lie in our powers. Truly, said\nking Arthur, I am much beholding unto that knight that hath so put his\nbody in devoir to worship me and my court. And as to thee, Ironside,\nthat art called the red knight of the red lawns, thou art called a\nperilous knight. And if thou wilt hold of me I shall worship thee and\nmake thee knight of the Table Round: but then thou must be no more a\nmurderer. Sir, as to that I have promised unto Sir Beaumains never more\nto use such customs, for all the shameful customs that I used I did at\nthe request of a lady that I loved; and therefore I must go unto Sir\nLauncelot, and unto Sir Gawaine, and ask them forgiveness of the evil\nwill I had unto them, for all that I put to death was all only for the\nlove of Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine. They be here now, said the king,\nafore thee, now may ye say to them what ye will. And then he kneeled\ndown unto Sir Launcelot and to Sir Gawaine, and prayed them of\nforgiveness of his enmity that ever he had against them.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIV.\n\n_How king Arthur pardoned them, and demanded of them where Sir Gareth\n was._\n\nThen goodly they said all at once, God forgive you, and we do, and pray\nyou that ye will tell us where we may find Sir Beaumains. Fair lords,\nsaid Sir Ironside, I cannot tell you, for it is full hard to find him,\nfor all such young knights as he is one, when they be in their\nadventures be never abiding in one place. But to say the worship that\nthe red knight of the red lawns and Sir Persant and his brothers said\nof Beaumains it was marvel to hear. Well, my fair lords, said king\nArthur, wit you well I shall do you honour for the love of Sir\nBeaumains, and as soon as ever I meet with him I shall make you all\nupon one day knights of the Table Round. And as to thee, Sir Persant of\nInde, thou hast ever been called a full noble knight, and so have ever\nbeen thy three brethren called. But I marvel, said the king, that I\nhear not of the black knight your brother, he was a full noble knight.\nSir, said Pertolepe the green knight, Sir Beaumains slew him in a\nrecounter with his spear, his name was Sir Percard. That was great\npity, said the king, and so said many knights. For these four brethren\nwere full well known in the court of king Arthur for noble knights, for\nlong time they had holden war against the knights of the Table Round.\nThen said Pertolepe the green knight unto the king: At a passage of the\nwater of Mortaise there encountered Sir Beaumains with two brethren\nthat ever for the most part kept that passage, and they were two deadly\nknights, and there he slew the eldest brother in the water, and smote\nhim upon the head such a buffet that he fell down in the water and\nthere he was drowned, and his name was Gherard le Breusse: and after he\nslew the other brother upon the land, and his name was Sir Arnold le\nBreusse.\n\n\n CHAP. XXV.\n\n_How the queen of Orkney came to this feast of Pentecost, and Sir\n Gawaine and his brethren came to ask her blessing._\n\nSo then the king and they went to meat, and were served in the best\nmanner. And as they sat at the meat, there came in the queen of Orkney,\nwith ladies and knights a great number. And then Sir Gawaine, Sir\nAgravaine and Gaheris arose and went to her, and saluted her upon their\nknees and asked her blessing: for in fifteen year they had not seen\nher. Then she spake on high to her brother king Arthur: Where have ye\ndone my young son Sir Gareth. He was here amongst you a twelvemonth,\nand ye made a kitchen knave of him, the which is shame to you all.\nAlas, where have ye done my dear son that was my joy and bliss? Oh dear\nmother, said Sir Gawaine, I knew him not. Nor I, said the king, that\nnow me repenteth, but thanked be God he is proved a worshipful knight\nas any is now living of his years, and I shall never be glad till I may\nfind him. Ah brother, said the queen unto king Arthur, and to Sir\nGawaine, and to all her sons, ye did yourself great shame when ye\namongst you kept my son Gareth in the kitchen and fed him like a poor\nhog. Fair sister, said king Arthur, ye shall right well wit I knew him\nnot, nor no more did Sir Gawaine nor his brethren. But since it is so\nthat he is thus gone from us all, we must shape a remedy to find him.\nAlso, sister, me seemeth ye might have done me to wit of his coming,\nand then, and I had not done well to him, ye might have blamed me. For\nwhen he came to this court he came leaning upon two men\u2019s shoulders, as\nthough he might not have gone. And then he asked me three gifts, and\none he asked the same day, that was that I would give him meat enough\nthat twelvemonth. And the other two gifts he asked that day a\ntwelvemonth, and that was that he might have the adventure of the\ndamsel Linet, and the third was that Sir Launcelot should make him\nknight when he desired him. And so I granted him all his desire, and\nmany in this court marvelled that he desired his sustenance for a\ntwelvemonth, and thereby we deemed many of us that he was not come of a\nnoble house. Sir, said the queen of Orkney unto king Arthur her\nbrother, wit you well that I sent him unto you right well armed and\nhorsed, and worshipfully beseen of his body, and gold and silver plenty\nto spend. It may be, said the king, but thereof saw we none, save that\nsame day as he departed from us, knights told me that there came a\ndwarf hither suddenly, and brought him armour and a good horse, full\nwell and richly beseen, and thereat we had all marvel from whence that\nriches came, that we deemed all that he was come of men of worship.\nBrother, said the queen, all that ye say I believe, for ever since he\nwas grown he was marvellously witted: and ever he was faithful and true\nof his promise. But I marvel, said she, that Sir Kay did mock him and\nscorn him, and gave him that name Beaumains: yet Sir Kay, said the\nqueen, named him more righteously than he wend; for I dare say, and he\nbe on live, he is as fair an handed man and well disposed as any is\nliving. Sister, said Arthur, let this language be still, and by the\ngrace of God he shall be found and he be within these seven realms, and\nlet all this pass, and be merry, for he is proved to be a man of\nworship, and that is my joy.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVI.\n\n_How king Arthur sent for the lady Liones, and how she let cry a\n tourney at her castle, where as came many knights._\n\nThen said Sir Gawaine and his brethren unto Arthur, Sir, and ye will\ngive us leave we will go and seek our brother. Nay, said Sir Launcelot,\nthat shall ye not need, and so said Sir Baudwin of Britain: for as by\nour advice the king shall send unto dame Liones a messager, and pray\nher that she will come to the court in all the haste that she may, and\ndoubt ye not she will come, and then she may give you best counsel\nwhere ye shall find him. This is well said of you, said the king. So\nthen goodly letters were made, and the messager sent forth, that night\nand day he went till he came unto the castle perilous. And then the\nlady dame Liones was sent for there as she was with Sir Gringamore her\nbrother and Sir Gareth. And when she understood this message, she bad\nhim ride on his way unto king Arthur, and she would come after in all\ngoodly haste. Then when she came to Sir Gringamore and to Sir Gareth,\nshe told them all how king Arthur had sent for her. That is because of\nme, said Sir Gareth. Now advise me, said dame Liones, what shall I say,\nand in what manner I shall rule me. My lady and my love, said Sir\nGareth, I pray you in no manner of wise be ye aknown where I am, but\nwell I wot my mother is there and all my brethren, and they will take\nupon them to seek me; and I wot well that they do. But this, madam, I\nwould ye said and advised the king, when he questioneth with you of me:\nthen may ye say, this is your advice, that, and it like his good grace,\nye will do make a cry against the feast of the Assumption of our Lady,\nthat what knight there proveth him best, he shall weld you and all your\nland. And if so be that he be a wedded man, that his wife shall have\nthe degree and a coronal of gold, beset with stones of virtue to the\nvalue of a thousand pound, and a white jerfalcon.\n\nSo dame Liones departed and came to king Arthur, where she was nobly\nreceived, and there she was sore questioned of the king, and of the\nqueen of Orkney. And she answered, where Sir Gareth was she could not\ntell. But thus much she said unto Arthur; Sir, I will let cry a\ntournament, that shall be done before my castle at the Assumption of\nour Lady, and the cry shall be this, that you my lord Arthur shall be\nthere and your knights, and I will purvey that my knights shall be\nagainst yours: and then I am sure ye shall hear of Sir Gareth. This is\nwell advised, said king Arthur: and so she departed. And the king and\nshe made great provision for that tournament. When dame Liones was come\nto the Isle of Avilion, that was the same isle there as her brother Sir\nGringamore dwelt, then she told him all how she had done, and what\npromise she had made to king Arthur. Alas, said Sir Gareth, I have been\nso wounded by mishap sithen I came into this castle, that I shall not\nbe able to do at that tournament like a knight, for I was never\nthoroughly whole since I was hurt. Be ye of good cheer, said the damsel\nLinet, for I undertake within these fifteen days for to make you whole,\nand as lusty as ever ye were. And then she laid an ointment and a salve\nto him as it pleased her, that he was never so fresh nor so lusty. Then\nsaid the damsel Linet: Send you unto Sir Persant of Inde, and summon\nhim and his knights to be here with you as they have promised. Also,\nthat ye send unto Sir Ironside, that is the red knight of the red\nlawns, and charge him that he be ready with you with his whole sum of\nknights, and then shall ye be able to match with king Arthur and his\nknights. So this was done, and all knights were sent for unto the\ncastle perilous. And then the red knight answered and said unto dame\nLiones, and to Sir Gareth, Madam, and my lord Sir Gareth, ye shall\nunderstand that I have been at the court of king Arthur, and Sir\nPersant of Inde and his brethren, and there we have done our homage as\nye commanded us. Also, Sir Ironside said, I have taken upon me with Sir\nPersant of Inde and his brethren to hold party against my lord Sir\nLauncelot and the knights of that court. And this have I done for the\nlove of my lady dame Liones, and you my lord Sir Gareth. Ye have well\ndone, said Sir Gareth. But wit you well ye shall be full sore matched\nwith the most noble knights of the world, therefore we must purvey us\nof good knights, where we may get them. That is well said, said Sir\nPersant, and worshipfully. And so the cry was made in England, Wales,\nand Scotland, Ireland, and Cornwall, and in all the out isles, and in\nBritany, and in many countries; that at the feast of the Assumption of\nour Lady next coming, men should come to the castle perilous, beside\nthe Isle of Avilion, and there all the knights that there came should\nhave the choice whether them list to be on the one party with the\nknights of the castle, or on the other party with king Arthur. And two\nmonths was to the day that the tournament should be. And so there came\nmany good knights that were at large, and held them for the most part\nagainst king Arthur and his knights of the Round Table, and came on the\nside of them of the castle. For Sir Epinogrus was the first, and he was\nthe king\u2019s son of Northumberland, and Sir Palamides the Saracen was\nanother, and Sir Safere his brother, and Sir Sagwarides his brother,\nbut they were christened, and Sir Malegrine another, and Sir Brian de\nles Isles, a noble knight, and Sir Grummore Gummursum, a good knight of\nScotland, and Sir Carados of the dolorous tower, a noble knight, and\nSir Turquin his brother, and Sir Arnold and Sir Gauter, two brethren,\ngood knights of Cornwall: there came Sir Tristram de Liones, and with\nhim Sir Dinadan the seneschal and Sir Sadok; but this Sir Tristram was\nnot at that time knight of the Table Round, but he was one of the best\nknights of the world. And so all these noble knights accompanied them\nwith the lady of the castle, and with the red knight of the red lawns,\nbut as for Sir Gareth, he would not take upon him more but as other\nmean knights.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVII.\n\n_How king Arthur went to the tournament with his knights, and how the\n lady received him worshipfully, and how the knights encountered._\n\nAnd then there came with king Arthur Sir Gawaine, Agravaine and\nGaheris, his brethren. And then his nephews Sir Uwaine le Blanchemains,\nand Sir Aglovale, Sir Tor, Sir Percivale de Galis, and Sir Lamorak de\nGalis. Then came Sir Launcelot du Lake with his brethren, nephews, and\ncousins, as Sir Lionel, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Bors de Ganis, and Sir\nGalihodin, Sir Galihud, and many more of Sir Launcelot\u2019s blood; and Sir\nDinadan, Sir La Cote Male Taile his brother, a good knight, and Sir\nSagramore, a good knight; and all the most part of the Round Table.\nAlso there came with king Arthur these knights, the king of Ireland,\nking Agwisaunce, and the king of Scotland, king Carados, and king\nUriens of the land of Gore, and king Bagdemagus, and his son Sir\nMeliaganus, and Sir Galahault the noble prince. All these kings,\nprinces, earls, barons, and other noble knights, as Sir Brandiles, Sir\nUwaine les Avoutres, and Sir Kay, Sir Bedivere, Sir Meliot de Logris,\nSir Petipase of Winchelsea, Sir Godelake. All these came with king\nArthur, and many more that cannot be rehearsed.\n\nNow leave we of these kings and knights, and let us speak of the great\narray that was made within the castle and about the castle for both\nparties. The lady dame Liones ordained great array upon her part for\nher noble knights, for all manner of lodging and victual that came by\nland and by water, that there lacked nothing for her party, nor for the\nother, but there was plenty to be had for gold and silver for king\nArthur and his knights. And then there came the harbingers from king\nArthur, for to harbour him and his kings, dukes, earls, barons, and\nknights. And then Sir Gareth prayed dame Liones, and the red knight of\nthe red lawns, and Sir Persant and his brother, and Sir Gringamore,\nthat in no wise there should none of them tell his name, and make no\nmore of him than of the least knight that there was; for he said, I\nwill not be known of neither more nor less, neither at the beginning\nneither at the ending.\n\nThen dame Liones said unto Sir Gareth, Sir, I will lend you a ring, but\nI would pray you as ye love me heartily let me have it again when the\ntournament is done, for that ring increaseth my beauty much more than\nit is of itself. And the virtue of my ring is that that is green it\nwill turn to red, and that is red it will turn in likeness to green,\nand that is blue it will turn to likeness of white, and that is white\nit will turn in likeness to blue, and so it will do of all manner of\ncolours. Also, who that beareth my ring shall lose no blood, and for\ngreat love I will give you this ring. Gramercy, said Sir Gareth, mine\nown lady, for this ring is passing meet for me, for it will turn all\nmanner of likeness that I am in, and that shall cause me that I shall\nnot be known. Then Sir Gringamore gave Sir Gareth a bay courser that\nwas a passing good horse: also he gave him good armour and sure, and a\nnoble sword that some time Sir Gringamore\u2019s father won upon an heathen\ntyrant. And so thus every knight made him ready to that tournament. And\nking Arthur was come two days tofore the Assumption of our Lady. And\nthere was all manner of royalty of all minstrelsy that might be found.\nAlso there came queen Guenever, and the queen of Orkney, Sir Gareth\u2019s\nmother. And upon the Assumption day, when mass and matins was done,\nthere were heralds with trumpets commanded to blow to the field. And so\nthere came out Sir Epinogrus, the king\u2019s son of Northumberland, from\nthe castle, and there encountered with him Sir Sagramore le Desirous,\nand either of them brake their spears to their hands. And then came in\nSir Palamides out of the castle, and there encountered with him\nGawaine, and either of them smote other so hard that both the good\nknights and their horses fell to the earth. And then knights of either\nparty rescued their knights. And then came in Sir Safere and Sir\nSagwarides, brethren unto Sir Palamides, and there encountered Sir\nAgravaine with Sir Safere, and Sir Gaheris encountered with Sir\nSagwarides. So Sir Safere smote down Agravaine, Sir Gawaine\u2019s brother,\nand Sir Segwarides, Sir Safere\u2019s brother, smote down Sir Gaheris. And\nSir Malgrine, a knight of the castle, encountered with Sir Uwaine le\nBlanchemains, and there Sir Uwaine gave Sir Malgrine a fall, that he\nhad almost broken his neck.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVIII.\n\n_How the knights bare them in battle._\n\nThen Sir Brian de les Isles, and Grummore Grummorsum, knights of the\ncastle, encountered with Sir Aglovale and Sir Tor, and Sir Tor smote\ndown Sir Grummore Grummorsum to the earth. Then came in Sir Carados of\nthe dolorous tower, and Sir Turquine, knights of the castle, and there\nencountered with them Sir Percivale de Galis and Sir Lamorak de Galis,\nthat were two brethren, and there encountered Sir Percivale with Sir\nCarados, and either brake their spears unto their hands, and then Sir\nTurquine with Sir Lamorak, and either of them smote down other, horse\nand all, to the earth, and either parties rescued other and horsed them\nagain. And Sir Arnold, and Sir Gauter, knights of the castle,\nencountered with Sir Brandiles and Sir Kay, and these four knights\nencountered mightily, and brake their spears to their hands. Then came\nin Sir Tristram, and Sir Saduk, and Sir Dinas, knights of the castle,\nand there encountered Sir Tristram with Sir Bedivere, and there Sir\nBedivere was smitten to the earth, both horse and man: and Sir Saduk\nencountered with Sir Petipase, and there Sir Saduk was overthrown. And\nthere Uwaine les Avoutres smote down Sir Dinas the seneschal. Then came\nin Sir Persant of Inde, a knight of the castle, and there encountered\nwith him Sir Launcelot du Lake, and there he smote Sir Persant, horse\nand man, to the earth. Then came Sir Pertolope from the castle, and\nthere encountered with him Sir Lionel, and there Sir Pertolope the\ngreen knight smote down Sir Lionel, brother to Sir Launcelot. All this\nas marked by noble heralds, who bare him best, and their names. And\nthen came into the field Sir Perimones the red knight, Sir Persant\u2019s\nbrother, that was a knight of the castle, and he encountered with Sir\nEctor de Maris, and either smote other so hard that both their horses\nand they fell to the earth. And then came in the red knight of the red\nlawns, and Sir Gareth, from the castle, and there encountered with them\nSir Bors de Ganis and Sir Bleoberis, and there the red knight and Sir\nBors smote other so hard that their spears brast, and their horses fell\ngroveling to the earth. Then Sir Bleoberis brake his spear upon Sir\nGareth, but of that stroke Sir Bleoberis fell to the earth. When Sir\nGalihodin saw that, he bad Sir Gareth keep him, and Sir Gareth smote\nhim to the earth. Then Sir Galihud gat a spear to avenge his brother,\nand in the same wise Sir Gareth served him, and Sir Dinadan and his\nbrother La Cote Male Taile, and Sir Sagramor le Desirous, and Sir\nDodinas le Savage; all these he bare down with one spear. When king\nAgwisance of Ireland saw Sir Gareth fare so he marvelled what he might\nbe, that one time seemed green, and another time, at his again coming,\nhe seemed blue. And thus at every course that he rode to and fro he\nchanged his colour, so that there might neither king nor knight have\nready cognisance of him. Then Sir Agwisance the king of Ireland\nencountered with Sir Gareth, and there Sir Gareth smote him from his\nhorse, saddle and all. And then came king Carados of Scotland, and Sir\nGareth smote him down, horse and man. And in the same wise he served\nking Uriens of the land of Gore. And then there came in Sir Bagdemagus,\nand Sir Gareth smote him down horse and man to the earth. And\nBagdemagus\u2019s son Meliganus brake a spear upon Sir Gareth mightily and\nknightly. And then Sir Galahault the noble prince cried on high, Knight\nwith the many colours, well hast thou justed; now make thee ready that\nI may just with thee. Sir Gareth heard him, and he gat a great spear,\nand so they encountered together, and there the prince brake his spear:\nbut Sir Gareth smote him upon the left side of the helm, that he reeled\nhere and there, and he had fallen down had not his men recovered him.\nTruly, said king Arthur, that knight with the many colours is a good\nknight. Wherefore the king called unto him Sir Launcelot, and prayed\nhim to encounter with that knight. Sir, said Launcelot, I may well find\nin my heart for to forbear him as at this time, for he hath had travail\nenough this day, and when a good knight doth so well upon some day, it\nis no good knight\u2019s part to let him of his worship, and, namely, when\nhe seeth a knight hath done so great labour: for peradventure, said Sir\nLauncelot, his quarrel is here this day, and peradventure he is best\nbeloved with this lady of all that be here, for I see well he paineth\nhimself and enforceth him to do great deeds, and therefore, said Sir\nLauncelot, as for me, this day he shall have the honour; though it lay\nin my power to put him from it, I would not.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIX.\n\n_Yet of the said Tournament._\n\nThen when this was done, there was drawing of swords; and then there\nbegan a sore tournament. And there did Sir Lamorak marvellous deeds of\narms, and betwixt Sir Lamorak and Sir Ironside, that was the red knight\nof the red lawns, there was a strong battle, and betwixt Sir Palamides\nand Bleoberis was a strong battle; and Sir Gawaine and Sir Tristram\nmet, and there Sir Gawaine had the worst, for he pulled Sir Gawaine\nfrom his horse, and there he was long upon foot and defouled. Then came\nin Sir Launcelot, and he smote Sir Turquine, and he him, and then came\nSir Carados his brother, and both at once they assailed him, and he, as\nthe most noblest knight of the world, worshipfully fought with them\nboth, that all men wondered of the nobleness of Sir Launcelot. And then\ncame in Sir Gareth and knew that it was Sir Launcelot that fought with\nthose two perilous knights. And then Sir Gareth came with his good\nhorse and hurtled them in sunder, and no stroke would he smite to Sir\nLauncelot. That espied Sir Launcelot, and deemed it should be the good\nknight Sir Gareth; and then Sir Gareth rode here and there, and smote\non the right hand and on the left hand, that all the folk might well\nespy where that he rode. And by fortune he met with his brother Sir\nGawaine, and there he put Sir Gawaine to the worse, for he put off his\nhelm; and so he served five or six knights of the Round Table, that all\nmen said he put him in the most pain, and best he did his devoir. For\nwhen Sir Tristram beheld him how he first justed and after fought so\nwell with a sword, then he rode unto Sir Ironside and to Sir Persant of\nInde, and asked them by their faith, What manner a knight is yonder\nknight that seemeth in so many divers colours; truly, me seemeth, said\nTristram, that he putteth himself in great pain, for he never ceaseth.\nWot ye not what he is? said Sir Ironside. No, said Sir Tristram. Then\nshall ye know that this is he that loveth the lady of the castle, and\nshe him again; and this is he that won me when I besieged the lady of\nthis castle, and this is he that won Sir Persant of Inde and his three\nbrethren. What is his name, said Sir Tristram, and of what blood is he\ncome? He was called in the court of king Arthur Beaumains, but his name\nis Sir Gareth of Orkney, brother to Sir Gawaine. By my head, said Sir\nTristram, he is a good knight, and a big man of arms, and if he be\nyoung he shall prove a full noble knight. He is but a child, they all\nsaid; and of Sir Launcelot he was made knight. Therefore he is mickle\nthe better, said Tristram. And then Sir Tristram, Sir Ironside, Sir\nPersant, and his brother, rode together for to help Sir Gareth, and\nthen there were given many strong strokes. And then Sir Gareth rode out\non the one side to amend his helm. And then said his dwarf, Take me\nyour ring, that ye lose it not while that ye drink. And so when he had\ndrunk, he gat on his helm, and eagerly took his horse and rode into the\nfield, and left his ring with his dwarf, and the dwarf was glad the\nring was from him, for then he wist well he should be known. And then\nwhen Sir Gareth was in the field, all folks saw him well and plainly\nthat he was in yellow colours, and there he rashed off helms, and\npulled down knights, that king Arthur had marvel what knight he was,\nfor the king saw by his hair that it was the same knight.\n\n\n CHAP. XXX.\n\n_How Sir Gareth was espied by the heralds, and how he escaped out of\n the field._\n\nBut before he was in so many colours, and now he is but in one colour,\nthat is yellow: now go, said king Arthur unto divers heralds, and ride\nabout him, and espy what manner knight he is, for I have asked of many\nknights this day that be upon his party, and all say they know him not.\nAnd so an herald rode nigh Gareth as he could, and there he saw written\nabout his helm in gold, This helm is Sir Gareth\u2019s of Orkney. Then the\nherald cried as he were wood, and many heralds with him, This is Sir\nGareth of Orkney, in the yellow arms, that all kings and knights of\nArthur\u2019s beheld him and awaited, and then they pressed all to behold\nhim: and ever the heralds cried, This is Sir Gareth of Orkney, king\nLot\u2019s son. And when Sir Gareth espied that he was discovered, then he\ndoubled his strokes, and smote down Sir Sagramore, and his brother Sir\nGawaine. O brother, said Sir Gawaine, I wend ye would not have stricken\nme. So when he heard him say so, he thrang here and there, and so with\ngreat pain he gat out of the press, and there he met with his dwarf. O\nboy, said Sir Gareth, thou hast beguiled me foul this day that thou\nkept my ring. Give it me anon again, that I may hide my body withal;\nand so he took it him. And then they all wist not where he was become;\nand Sir Gawaine had in manner espied where Sir Gareth rode, and then he\nrode after with all his might. That espied Sir Gareth, and rode lightly\ninto the forest, that Sir Gawaine wist not where he was become. And\nwhen Sir Gareth wist that Sir Gawaine was past, he asked the dwarf of\nbest counsel. Sir, said the dwarf, me seemeth it were best, now that ye\nare escaped from spying, that ye send my lady dame Liones her ring. It\nis well advised, said Sir Gareth; now have it here, and bear it to her,\nand say that I recommend me unto her good grace, and say her I will\ncome when I may, and I pray her to be true and faithful to me, as I\nwill be to her. Sir, said the dwarf, it shall be done as ye command:\nand so he rode his way, and did his errand unto the lady. Then she\nsaid, Where is my knight Sir Gareth? Madam, said the dwarf, he bad me\nsay that he would not be long from you. And so lightly the dwarf came\nagain unto Sir Gareth, that would fain have had a lodging, for he had\nneed to be reposed. And then fell there a thunder and a rain, as heaven\nand earth should go together. And Sir Gareth was not a little weary,\nfor of all that day he had but little rest, neither his horse nor he.\nSo this Sir Gareth rode so long in that forest until the night came.\nAnd ever it lightened and thundered, as it had been wood. At the last\nby fortune he came to a castle, and there he heard the waits upon the\nwalls.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXI.\n\n_How Sir Gareth came to a castle where he was well lodged, and how he\n justed with a knight and he slew him._\n\nThen Sir Gareth rode unto the barbican of the castle, and prayed the\nporter fair to let him into the castle. The porter answered ungoodly\nagain, and said, Thou gettest no lodging here. Fair sir, say not so,\nfor I am a knight of king Arthur\u2019s, and pray the lord or the lady of\nthis castle to give me harbour for the love of king Arthur. Then the\nporter went unto the duchess, and told her how there was a knight of\nking Arthur\u2019s would have harbour. Let him in, said the duchess, for I\nwill see that knight, and for king Arthur\u2019s sake he shall not be\nharbourless. Then she went up into a tower over the gate, with great\ntorch light. When Sir Gareth saw that torch light, he cried on high,\nWhether thou be lord or lady, giant or champion, I take no force, so\nthat I may have harbour this night, and if it be so that I must needs\nfight, spare me not to morn when I have rested me, for both I and my\nhorse be weary. Sir knight, said the lady, thou speakest knightly and\nboldly, but wit thou well that the lord of this castle loveth not king\nArthur, nor none of his court, for my lord hath ever been against him,\nand therefore thou were better not to come within this castle. For and\nthou come in this night, thou must come in under such form, that\nwheresoever thou meet my lord, by lane, or by street, thou must yield\nthee to him as prisoner. Madam, said Sir Gareth, what is your lord, and\nwhat is his name? Sir, my lord\u2019s name is the duke de la Rowse. Well,\nmadam, said Sir Gareth, I shall promise you in what place I meet your\nlord, I shall yield me unto him and to his good grace, with that I\nunderstand he will do me no harm: and if I understand that he will,\nwill I release myself and I can with my spear and with my sword. Ye say\nwell, said the duchess, and then she let the draw-bridge down. And so\nhe rode into the hall, and there he alight, and his horse was led into\na stable, and in the hall he unarmed him and said, Madam, I will not\nout of this hall this night; and when it is day-light let see who will\nhave ado with me, he shall find me ready. Then was he set unto supper,\nand had many good dishes. Then Sir Gareth list well to eat, and\nknightly he ate his meat, and eagerly; there was many a fair lady by\nhim, and some of them said they never saw a goodlier man, nor so well\nof eating. Then they made him passing good cheer. And shortly when he\nhad supped, his bed was made there; so he rested him all night. And on\nthe morn he heard mass, and broke his fast, and took his leave at the\nduchess, and at them all, and thanked her goodly of her lodging, and of\nhis good cheer. And then she asked him his name. Madam, said he, truly,\nmy name is Gareth of Orkney, and some men call me Beaumains. Then knew\nshe well it was the same knight that fought for dame Liones. So Sir\nGareth departed, and rode up into a mountain, and there met him a\nknight, his name was Sir Bendelaine, and said to Sir Gareth, Thou shalt\nnot pass this way, for either thou shalt just with me, or be my\nprisoner. Then will I just, said Sir Gareth. And so they let their\nhorses run, and there Sir Gareth smote him throughout the body, and Sir\nBendelaine rode forth to his castle there beside, and there died. So\nSir Gareth would have rested him, and he came riding to Bendelaine\u2019s\ncastle. Then his knights and his servants espied that it was he that\nhad slain their lord. Then they armed twenty good men, and came out and\nassailed Sir Gareth, and so he had no spear, but his sword, and put his\nshield afore him, and there they brake their spears upon him, and they\nassailed him passingly sore. But ever Sir Gareth defended him as a\nknight.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXII.\n\n_How Sir Gareth fought with a knight that held within his castle thirty\n ladies, and how he slew him._\n\nSo when they saw that they might not overcome him, they rode from him\nand took their counsel to slay his horse, and so they came in upon Sir\nGareth, and with spears they slew his horse, and then they assailed him\nhard. But when he was on foot there was none that he fought but he gave\nhim such a buffet that he did never recover. So he slew them by one and\none till they were but four, and there they fled, and Sir Gareth took a\ngood horse that was one of theirs, and rode his way. Then he rode a\ngreat pace till that he came to a castle, and there he heard much\nmourning of ladies and gentlewomen. So there came by him a page: What\nnoise is this, said Sir Gareth, that I hear within this castle? Sir\nknight, said the page, here be within this castle thirty ladies, and\nall they be widows, for here is a knight that waiteth daily upon this\ncastle, and his name is the brown knight without pity, and he is the\nmost perilous knight that now liveth. And, therefore, sir, said the\npage, I rede you flee. Nay, said Sir Gareth, I will not flee, though\nthou be afeard of him. And then the page saw where came the brown\nknight. Lo, said the page, yonder he cometh. Let me deal with him, said\nSir Gareth. And when either of other had a sight, they let their horses\nrun, and the brown knight brake his spear, and Sir Gareth smote him\nthroughout the body, that he overthrew him to the ground stark dead. So\nSir Gareth rode into the castle, and prayed the ladies that he might\nrepose him. Alas, said the ladies, ye may not be lodged here. Make him\ngood cheer, said the page, for this knight hath slain your enemy. Then\nthey all made him good cheer as lay in their power. But wit ye well\nthey made him good cheer, for they might none otherwise do, for they\nwere but poor. And so on the morn he went to mass, and there he saw the\nthirty ladies kneel, and lay groveling upon divers tombs making great\ndole and sorrow. Then Sir Gareth wist well that in the tombs lay their\nlords. Fair ladies, said Sir Gareth, ye must at the next feast of\nPentecost be at the court of king Arthur, and say that I Sir Gareth\nsent you thither. We shall do this, said the ladies. So he departed,\nand by fortune he came to a mountain, and there he found a goodly\nknight that bad him, Abide Sir knight, and just with me. What are ye?\nsaid Sir Gareth. My name is, said he, the duke de la Rowse. Ah! Sir, ye\nare the same knight that I lodged once in your castle, and there I made\npromise unto your lady that I should yield me unto you. Ah! said the\nduke, art thou that proud knight that proffered to fight with my\nknights? therefore make thee ready, for I will have ado with thee. So\nthey let their horses run, and there Sir Gareth smote the duke down\nfrom his horse. But the duke lightly avoided his horse, and dressed his\nshield, and drew his sword, and bad Sir Gareth alight and fight with\nhim. So he did alight, and they did great battle together more than an\nhour, and either hurt other full sore. At the last Sir Gareth gat the\nduke to the earth, and would have slain him, and then he yielded him to\nhim. Then must ye go, said Sir Gareth, unto Sir Arthur my lord at the\nnext feast, and say that I Sir Gareth of Orkney sent you unto him. It\nshall be done, said the duke, and I will do to you homage and fealty\nwith an hundred knights with me, and all the days of my life to do you\nservice where ye will command me.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXIII.\n\n_How Sir Gawaine and Sir Gareth fought each against other, and how they\n knew each other by the damsel Linet._\n\nSo the duke departed, and Sir Gareth stood there alone, and there he\nsaw an armed knight coming toward him. Then Sir Gareth took the duke\u2019s\nshield and mounted upon horseback, and so without bidding they ran\ntogether as it had been the thunder. And there that knight hurt Sir\nGareth under the side with his spear. And then they alight and drew\ntheir swords, and gave great strokes, that the blood trailed to the\nground. And so they fought two hours. At the last there came the damsel\nLinet, that some men call the damsel Savage, and she came riding upon\nan ambling mule, and there she cried all on high, Sir Gawaine, Sir\nGawaine, leave thy fighting with thy brother Sir Gareth. And when he\nheard her say so he threw away his shield and his sword, and ran to Sir\nGareth and took him in his arms, and then kneeled down and asked him\nmercy. What are ye, said Sir Gareth, that right now were so strong and\nso mighty, and now so suddenly yield you to me? O Gareth, I am your\nbrother Sir Gawaine, that for your sake have had great sorrow and\nlabour. Then Sir Gareth unlaced his helm, and kneeled down to him and\nasked him mercy. Then they rose both, and embraced either other in\ntheir arms, and wept a great while or they might speak, and either of\nthem gave other the prize of the battle. And there were many kind words\nbetween them. Alas, my fair brother, said Sir Gawaine, perdy I ought of\nright to worship you and ye were not my brother, for ye have worshipped\nking Arthur and all his court, for ye have sent him more worshipful\nknights this twelvemonth than six the best of the Round Table have\ndone, except Sir Launcelot. Then came the damsel Savage, that was the\nlady Linet that rode with Sir Gareth so long, and there she did stanch\nSir Gareth\u2019s wounds and Sir Gawaine\u2019s. Now what will ye do? said the\ndamsel Savage; me seemeth it were well done that Arthur had tidings of\nyou both, for your horses are so bruised that they may not bear. Now,\nfair damsel, said Sir Gawaine, I pray you ride unto my lord, mine uncle\nking Arthur, and tell him what adventure is to me betid here, and I\nsuppose he will not tarry long. Then she took her mule, and lightly she\ncame to king Arthur that was but two miles thence, and when she had\ntold him the tidings, the king bad get him a palfrey. And when he was\nupon his back he bad the lords and ladies come after who that would:\nand there was saddling and bridling of queens\u2019 horses, and princes\u2019\nhorses, and well was him that soonest might be ready. So when the king\ncame there as they were, he saw Sir Gawaine and Sir Gareth sit upon a\nlittle hill side, and then the king avoided his horse. And when he came\nnigh Sir Gareth he would have spoken but he might not, and therewith he\nsank down in a swoon for gladness. And so they start unto their uncle,\nand required him of his good grace to be of good comfort. Wit ye well\nthe king made great joy, and many a piteous complaint he made unto Sir\nGareth, and ever he wept as he had been a child. With that came his\nmother the queen of Orkney, dame Morgause, and when she saw Sir Gareth\nreadily in the visage, she might not weep, but suddenly fell down in a\nswoon, and lay there a great while like as she had been dead. And then\nSir Gareth recomforted his mother in such a wise that she recovered,\nand made good cheer. Then the king commanded that all manner of knights\nthat were under his obeisance should make their lodging right there for\nthe love of his nephews. And so it was done, and all manner of\npurveyance purveyed that there lacked nothing that might be gotten of\ntame nor wild for gold or silver. And then by the means of the damsel\nSavage Sir Gawaine and Sir Gareth were healed of their wounds, and\nthere they sojourned eight days. Then said king Arthur unto the damsel\nSavage, I marvel that your sister dame Liones cometh not here to me,\nand in especial that she cometh not to visit her knight, my nephew Sir\nGareth, that hath had so much travail for her love. My lord, said the\ndamsel Linet, ye must of your good grace hold her excused, for she\nknoweth not that my lord Sir Gareth is here. Go then for her, said king\nArthur, that we may be appointed what is best to be done, according\nunto the pleasure of my nephew. Sir, said the damsel, that shall be\ndone, and so she rode unto her sister. And as lightly as she might she\nmade her ready, and she came on the morn with her brother Sir\nGringamore, and with her forty knights. And so when she was come, she\nhad all the cheer that might be done, both of the king and of many\nother kings and queens.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXIV.\n\n_How Sir Gareth acknowledged that they loved each other to king Arthur,\n and of the appointment of their wedding._\n\nAnd among all these ladies she was named the fairest and peerless. Then\nwhen Sir Gareth saw her, there was many a goodly look and goodly words,\nthat all men of worship had joy to behold them. Then came king Arthur\nand many other kings, and dame Guenever and the queen of Orkney. And\nthere the king asked his nephew Sir Gareth whether he would have that\nlady to his wife? My lord, wit you well that I love her above all\nladies living. Now, fair lady, said king Arthur, what say ye? Most\nnoble king, said dame Liones, wit you well that my lord Sir Gareth is\nto me more lever to have and hold as my husband, than any king or\nprince that is christened, and if I may not have him I promise you I\nwill never have none. For, my lord Arthur, said dame Liones, wit ye\nwell he is my first love, and he shall be the last: and if ye will\nsuffer him to have his will and free choice, I dare say he will have\nme. That is truth, said Sir Gareth, and I have not you and hold not you\nas my wife, there shall never lady nor gentlewoman rejoice me. What\nnephew, said the king, is the wind in that door! for wit ye well I\nwould not for the stint of my crown to be causer to withdraw your\nhearts, and wit ye well ye cannot love so well but I shall rather\nincrease it than distress it. And also ye shall have my love and my\nlordship in the uttermost wise that may lie in my power. And in the\nsame wise said Sir Gareth\u2019s mother. Then was there made a provision for\nthe day of marriage, and by the king\u2019s advice it was provided that it\nshould be at Michaelmas following, at Kinkenadon by the sea-side, for\nthere is a plentiful country. And so it was cried in all the places\nthrough the realm. And then Sir Gareth sent his summons unto all these\nknights and ladies that he had won in battle tofore, that they should\nbe at his day of marriage at Kinkenadon by the sands. And then dame\nLiones and the damsel Linet, with Sir Gringamore, rode to their castle,\nand a goodly and a rich ring she gave to Sir Gareth, and he gave her\nanother. And king Arthur gave her a rich bee of gold, and so she\ndeparted. And king Arthur and his fellowship rode toward Kinkenadon,\nand Sir Gareth brought his lady on the way, and so came to the king\nagain and rode with him. Oh the great cheer that Sir Launcelot made of\nSir Gareth and he of him: for there was never no knight that Sir Gareth\nloved so well as he did Sir Launcelot, and ever for the most part he\nwould be in Sir Launcelot\u2019s company: for after Sir Gareth had espied\nSir Gawaine\u2019s conditions, he withdrew himself from his brother Sir\nGawaine\u2019s fellowship, for he was vengeable, and where he hated he would\nbe avenged with murder, and that hated Sir Gareth.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXV.\n\n_Of the great royalty, and what officers were made at the feast of the\n wedding, and of the justs at the feast._\n\nSo it drew fast to Michaelmas, and thither came dame Liones the lady of\nthe castle perilous and her sister dame Linet, with Sir Gringamore\ntheir brother with them: for he had the conduct of these ladies. And\nthere they were lodged at the devise of king Arthur. And upon\nMichaelmas-day the bishop of Canterbury made the wedding betwixt Sir\nGareth and the lady Liones with great solemnity. And king Arthur made\nGaheris to wed the damsel Savage, that was dame Linet; and king Arthur\nmade Sir Agravaine to wed dame Liones\u2019 niece, a fair lady, her name was\ndame Laurel. And so when this solemnization was done, then there came\nin the green knight Sir Pertolope with thirty knights, and there he did\nhomage and fealty unto Sir Gareth, and these knights to hold of him for\nevermore. Also Sir Pertolope said, I pray you that at this feast I may\nbe your chamberlain. With a good will, said Sir Gareth, sith it liketh\nyou to take so simple an office. Then came in the red knight with\nthreescore knights with him, and did to Sir Gareth homage and fealty,\nand all those knights to hold of him for evermore, and then this Sir\nPerimones prayed Sir Gareth to grant him to be his chief butler at that\nhigh feast. I will well, said Sir Gareth, that ye have this office and\nit were better. Then came in Sir Persant of Inde with an hundred\nknights with him, and there he did homage and fealty unto Sir Gareth,\nand all his knights should do him service, and hold their lands of him\nfor ever; and there he prayed Sir Gareth to make him his sewer chief at\nthe feast. I will well, said Sir Gareth, that ye have it and it were\nbetter. Then came in the duke de la Rowse with an hundred knights with\nhim, and there he did homage and fealty unto Sir Gareth, and so to hold\ntheir lands of him for ever; and he required Sir Gareth that he might\nserve him of the wine that day at the feast. I will well, said Sir\nGareth, and it were better. Then came in the red knight of the red\nlawns, that was Sir Ironside, and he brought with him three hundred\nknights, and there he did homage and fealty, and all these knights to\nhold their lands of him for ever, and then he asked Sir Gareth to be\nhis carver. I will well, said Sir Gareth, and it please you. Then came\ninto the court thirty ladies, and all they seemed widows, and those\nthirty ladies brought with them many fair gentlewomen; and all they\nkneeled down at once unto king Arthur and to Sir Gareth, and there all\nthose ladies told the king how Sir Gareth had delivered them from the\ndolorous tower, and slew the brown knight without pity; and therefore\nwe and our heirs for evermore will do homage unto Sir Gareth of Orkney.\nSo then the kings and queens, princes, earls and barons, and many bold\nknights went unto meat, and well may ye wit that there was all manner\nof meat plenteously, all manner revels and games, with all manner of\nminstrelsy that was used in those days. Also there was great justs\nthree days. But the king would not suffer Sir Gareth to just because of\nhis new bride: for as the French book saith that dame Liones desired\nthe king that none that were wedded should just at that feast. So the\nfirst day there justed Sir Lamorak de Galis, for he overthrew thirty\nknights and did passing marvellously deeds of arms. And then king\nArthur made Sir Persant of Inde and his two brethren knights of the\nRound Table, to their lives\u2019 end, and gave them great lands. Also the\nsecond day there justed Tristram best, and he overthrew forty knights,\nand did there marvellous deeds of arms. And there king Arthur made\nIronside, that was the red knight of the red lawns, a knight of the\nTable Round unto his life\u2019s end, and gave him great lands. The third\nday there justed Sir Launcelot du Lake, and he overthrew fifty knights\nand did many marvellous deeds of arms, that all men wondered on him.\nAnd there king Arthur made the duke de la Rowse a knight of the Round\nTable to his life\u2019s end, and gave him great lands to spend. But when\nthese justs were done, Sir Lamorak and Sir Tristram departed suddenly\nand would not be known, for the which king Arthur and all the court\nwere sore displeased. And so they held the court forty days with great\nsolemnity. And this Sir Gareth was a noble knight, and a well ruled,\nand fair languaged.\n\nThus endeth this tale of syr Gareth of Orkeney that wedded dame Lyones\n of the castel peryllous. And also syr Gaheris wedded her syster dame\n Lynet, that was called the damoysel saueage. And syr Agrauayne wedded\n dame Laurel a fayr lady, and grete and myghty landes with grete\n rychesse gafe with them kyng Arthur, that ryally they myght lyue tyl\n their lyues ende.\n\nHere foloweth the viii. book the which is the first book of Sir\n Tristram de Lyones, & who was his fader & his moder, & hou he was\n borne and fosteryd. And how he was made knyghte.\n\n\n\n\n The Eighth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How Sir Tristram de Liones was born, and how his mother died at his\n birth, wherefore she named him Tristram._\n\nIt was a king that hight Meliodas, and he was lord and king of the\ncountry of Liones, and this king Meliodas was a likely knight as any\nwas that time living. And by fortune he wedded king Mark\u2019s sister of\nCornwall; and she was called Elizabeth, that was called both good and\nfair. And at that time king Arthur reigned, and he was whole king of\nEngland, Wales, and Scotland, and of many other realms: howbeit there\nwere many kings that were lords of many countries, but all they held\ntheir lands of king Arthur. For in Wales were two kings, and in the\nnorth were many kings; and in Cornwall and in the west were two kings;\nalso in Ireland were two or three kings; and all were under the\nobeisance of king Arthur. So was the king of France, and the king of\nBritany, and all the lordships unto Rome. And the wife of this king\nMeliodas was a full meek lady, and well she loved her lord, and he her\nagain, and the time came that she should bear a child, so there was\ngreat joy betwixt them. Then was there a lady in that country that had\nloved king Meliodas long, and by no mean she never could get his love,\ntherefore she let ordain upon a day, as king Meliodas rode on hunting,\nfor he was a great chaser, and there by an enchantment she made him\nchase an hart by himself alone till that he came to an old castle, and\nthere anon he was taken prisoner by the lady that him loved. When\nElizabeth king Meliodas missed, her lord, she was nigh out of her wit,\nand she took a gentlewoman with her, and ran into the forest to seek\nher lord.\n\nAnd when she was far in the forest she might no farther, for she began\nto travail fast of her child. And she had many grimly throws, and her\ngentlewoman holp her all that she might, and so by miracle of our Lady\nof heaven she was delivered with great pains. But she had taken such\ncold for the default of help that deep draughts of death took her, that\nneeds she must die and depart out of this world, there was none other\nboot. And when this queen Elizabeth saw that there was none other boot,\nthen she made great dole, and said unto her gentlewoman, When ye see my\nlord king Meliodas recommend me unto him, and tell him what pains I\nendure here for his love, and how I must die here for his sake, for\ndefault of good help, and let him wit that I am full sorry to depart\nout of this world from him, therefore pray him to be friend to my soul.\nNow let me see my little child for whom I have had all this sorrow. And\nwhen she saw him she said thus: Ah my little son, thou hast murdered\nthy mother, and therefore I suppose, thou that art a murderer so young,\nthou art full likely to be a manly man in thine age. And because I\nshall die of the birth of thee, I charge thee, gentlewoman, that thou\nbeseech my lord king Meliodas, that when he is christened let call him\nTristram, that is as much to say as a sorrowful birth. And therewith\nthis queen gave up the ghost and died. Then the gentlewoman laid her\nunder the shadow of a great tree, and then she lapped the child as well\nas she might for cold. Right so there came the barons, following after\nthe queen, and when they saw that she was dead, and understood none\nother but the king was destroyed;\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How the step-mother of Sir Tristram had ordained poison for to have\n poisoned Sir Tristram._\n\nThen certain of them would have slain the child, because they would\nhave been lords of the country of Liones. But then through the fair\nspeech of the gentlewoman, and by the means that she made, the most\npart of the barons would not assent thereto. And then they let carry\nhome the dead queen, and much dole was made for her. Then this\nmeanwhile Merlin delivered king Meliodas out of prison, on the morn\nafter his queen was dead. And so when the king was come home, the most\npart of the barons made great joy. But the sorrow that the king made\nfor his queen that might no tongue tell. So then the king let inter her\nrichly. And after he let christen his child as his wife had commanded\nafore her death. And then he let call him Tristram, the sorrowful born\nchild. Then the king Meliodas endured seven years without a wife, and\nall this time the young Tristram was nourished well. Then it befel that\nking Meliodas wedded king Howell\u2019s daughter of Britany, and anon she\nhad children of king Meliodas, then was she heavy and wroth that her\nchildren should not enjoy the country of Liones, wherefore this queen\nordained for to poison young Tristram. So she let poison to be put into\na piece of silver in the chamber where as Tristram and her children\nwere together, unto that intent that when Tristram was thirsty he\nshould drink that drink. And so it fell upon a day, the queen\u2019s son, as\nhe was in that chamber, espied the cup with poison, and he wend it had\nbeen good drink, and because the child was thirsty, he took the cup\nwith poison and drank freely, and therewithall suddenly the child\nbrast, and was dead. When the queen wist of the death of her son, wit\nye well that she was heavy. But yet the king understood nothing of her\ntreason. Notwithstanding the queen would not leave this, but eft she\nlet ordain more poison, and put it in a cup. And by fortune king\nMeliodas her husband found the cup with wine where was the poison, and\nhe that was much thirsty took the cup for to drink thereout. And as he\nwould have drunken thereof, the queen espied him, and then she ran unto\nhim and pulled the cup from him suddenly. The king marvelled why she\ndid so, and remembered him how her son was suddenly slain with poison.\nAnd then he took her by the hand, and said, Thou false traitress, thou\nshalt tell me what manner of drink this is, or else I shall slay thee.\nAnd therewith he pulled out his sword, and swore a great oath that he\nshould slay her but if she told him truth. Ah mercy my lord, said she,\nand I shall tell you all. And then she told him why she would have\nslain Tristram, because her children should enjoy his land. Well, said\nking Meliodas, and therefore shall ye have the law. And so she was\ncondemned by the assent of the barons to be burnt, and then was there\nmade a great fire. And right as she was at the fire to take her\nexecution young Tristram kneeled afore king Meliodas, and besought him\nto give him a boon. I will well, said the king again. Then said young\nTristram, Give me the life of thy queen, my step-mother. That is\nunrightfully asked, said king Meliodas, for thou ought of right to hate\nher, for she would have slain thee with that poison and she might have\nhad her will; and for thy sake most is my cause that she should die.\nSir, said Tristram, as for that, I beseech you of your mercy that ye\nwill forgive it her, and as for my part God forgive it her, and I do,\nand so much it liked your highness to grant me my boon for God\u2019s love I\nrequire you hold your promise. Since it is so, said the king, I will\nthat ye have her life. Then said the king, I give her to you, and go ye\nto the fire and take her and do with her what ye will. So Sir Tristram\nwent to the fire, and by the commandment of the king delivered her from\nthe death. But after that king Meliodas would never have ado with her\nas at bed and board. But by the good means of young Tristram he made\nthe king and her accorded. But then the king would not suffer young\nTristram to abide no longer in his court.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How Sir Tristram was sent into France, and had one to govern him named\n Gouvernail, and how he learned to harp, hawk, and hunt._\n\nAnd then he let ordain a gentleman that was well learned and taught;\nhis name was Gouvernail; and then he sent young Tristram with\nGouvernail into France, to learn the language, and nurture, and deeds\nof arms. And there was Tristram more than seven years. And then when he\nwell could speak the language, and had learned all that he might learn\nin that country, then he came home to his father king Meliodas again.\nAnd so Tristram learned to be an harper passing all other, that there\nwas none such called in no country, and so in harping and on\ninstruments of music he applied him in his youth for to learn. And\nafter as he growed in might and strength he laboured ever in hunting\nand in hawking, so that never gentleman more, that ever we heard tell\nof. And as the book saith, he began good measures of blowing of beasts\nof venery and beasts of chase, and all manner of vermains; and all\nthese terms we have yet of hawking and hunting. And therefore the book\nof venery, of hawking, and hunting, is called the book of Sir Tristram.\nWherefore, as me seemeth, all gentlemen that bear old arms ought of\nright to honour Sir Tristram for the goodly terms that gentlemen have\nand use, and shall to the day of doom, that thereby in a manner all men\nof worship may dissever a gentleman from a yeoman, and from a yeoman a\nvillain. For he that gentle is will draw unto him gentle taches, and to\nfollow the customs of noble gentlemen. Thus Sir Tristram endured in\nCornwall until he was big and strong, of the age of nineteen years. And\nthen the king Meliodas had great joy of Sir Tristram, and so had the\nqueen his wife. For ever after in her life, because Sir Tristram saved\nher from the fire, she did never hate him more after, but loved him\never after, and gave Tristram many great gifts; for every estate loved\nhim where that he went.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How Sir Marhaus came out of Ireland for to ask truage of Cornwall, or\n else he would fight therefore._\n\nThen it befel that king Anguish of Ireland sent to king Mark of\nCornwall for his truage, that Cornwall had paid many winters. And all\nthat time king Mark was behind of the truage for seven years. And king\nMark and his barons gave unto the messager of Ireland these words and\nanswer, that they would none pay; and bad the messager go unto his king\nAnguish, and tell him we will pay him no truage, but tell your lord,\nand he will always have truage of us of Cornwall, bid him send a trusty\nknight of his land that will fight for his right, and we shall find\nanother for to defend our right. With this answer the messagers\ndeparted into Ireland. And when king Anguish understood the answer of\nthe messagers, he was wonderly wroth. And then he called unto him Sir\nMarhaus, the good knight, that was nobly proved, and a knight of the\nTable Round. And this Sir Marhaus was brother unto the queen of\nIreland. Then the king said thus: Fair brother Sir Marhaus, I pray you\ngo into Cornwall for my sake, and do battle for our truage that of\nright we ought to have, and whatsoever ye spend ye shall have\nsufficiently more than ye shall need. Sir, said Marhaus, wit ye well\nthat I shall not be loth to do battle in the right of you and your land\nwith the best knight of the Table Round, for I know them for the most\npart what be their deeds, and for to advance my deeds and to increase\nmy worship, I will right gladly go unto this journey for our right.\n\nSo in all haste there was made purveyance for Sir Marhaus, and he had\nall things that to him needed, and so he departed out of Ireland, and\narrived up in Cornwall, even fast by the castle of Tintagil. And when\nking Mark understood that he was there arrived to fight for Ireland,\nthen made king Mark great sorrow when he understood that the good and\nnoble knight Sir Marhaus was come. For they knew no knight that durst\nhave ado with him. For at that time Sir Marhaus was called one of the\nfamousest and renowned knights of the world.\n\nAnd thus Sir Marhaus abode in the sea, and every day he sent unto king\nMark for to pay the truage that was behind of seven year, or else to\nfind a knight to fight with him for the truage. This manner of message\nSir Marhaus sent daily unto king Mark. Then they of Cornwall let make\ncries in every place, that what knight would fight for to save the\ntruage of Cornwall he should be rewarded so that he should fare the\nbetter the term of his life. Then some of the barons said to king Mark,\nand counselled him to send to the court of king Arthur for to seek Sir\nLauncelot du Lake, that was that time named for the marvellousest\nknight of all the world. Then there were some other barons that\ncounselled the king not to do so, and said that it was labour in vain,\nbecause Sir Marhaus was a knight of the Round Table, therefore any of\nthem will be loth to have ado with other, but if it were any knight at\nhis own request would fight disguised and unknown. So the king and all\nhis barons assented that it was no boot to seek any knight of the Round\nTable. This meanwhile came the language and the noise unto king\nMeliodas, how that Sir Marhaus abode battle fast by Tintagil, and how\nking Mark could find no manner knight to fight for him. When young\nTristram heard of this he was wroth and sore ashamed that there durst\nno knight in Cornwall have ado with Sir Marhaus of Ireland.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How Tristram enterprized the battle to fight for the truage of\n Cornwall, and how he was made knight._\n\nTherewithal Sir Tristram went unto his father king Meliodas, and asked\nhim counsel what was best to do for to recover from Cornwall truage.\nFor as me seemeth, said Sir Tristram, it were shame that Sir Marhaus,\nthe queen\u2019s brother of Ireland, should go away, unless that he were\nfought withall. As for that, said Sir Meliodas, wit ye well son\nTristram that Sir Marhaus is called one of the best knights of the\nworld, and knight of the Table Round, and therefore I know no knight in\nthis country that is able to match with him. Alas, said Sir Tristram,\nthat I am not made knight: and if Sir Marhaus should thus depart into\nIreland, may I never have worship, and I were made knight I should\nmatch him. And sir, said Tristram, I pray you give me leave to ride to\nking Mark, and so ye be not displeased of king Mark will I be made\nknight. I will well, said king Meliodas, that ye be ruled as your\ncourage will rule you.\n\nThen Sir Tristram thanked his father much. And then he made him ready\nto ride into Cornwall. In the meanwhile there came a messager with\nletters of love from king Faramon of France\u2019s daughter unto Sir\nTristram, that were full piteous letters, and in them were written many\ncomplaints of love. But Sir Tristram had no joy of her letters, nor\nregard unto her. Also she sent him a little brachet that was passing\nfair. But when the king\u2019s daughter understood that Tristram would not\nlove her, as the book saith, she died for sorrow. And then the same\nsquire that brought the letter and the brachet came again unto Sir\nTristram as after ye shall hear in the tale. So this young Sir Tristram\nrode unto his uncle king Mark of Cornwall. And when he came there he\nheard say that there would no knight fight with Sir Marhaus. Then went\nSir Tristram unto his uncle and said, Sir, if ye will give me the order\nof knighthood I will do battle with Sir Marhaus. What are ye? said the\nking, and from whence be ye come? Sir, said Tristram, I come from king\nMeliodas that wedded your sister, and a gentleman wit ye well I am.\nKing Mark beheld Sir Tristram, and saw that he was but a young man of\nage, but he was passingly well made and big. Fair sir, said the king,\nwhat is your name, and where were ye born? Sir, said he again, my name\nis Tristram, and in the country of Liones was I born. Ye say well, said\nthe king, and if ye will do this battle I shall make you knight.\nTherefore I come to you, said Sir Tristram, and for none other cause.\nBut then king Mark made him knight. And therewithal anon as he had made\nhim knight, he sent a messager unto Sir Marhaus with letters that said\nthat he had found a young knight ready for to take the battle to the\nuttermost. It may well be, said Sir Marhaus; but tell unto king Mark\nthat I will not fight with no knight but if he be of blood royal, that\nis to say either king\u2019s son or queen\u2019s son, born of a prince or\nprincess.\n\nWhen king Mark understood that, he sent for Sir Tristram de Liones and\ntold him what was the answer of Sir Marhaus. Then said Sir Tristram,\nSince that he sayeth so, let him wit that I am come of father\u2019s side\nand mother\u2019s side of as noble blood as he is. For, Sir, now shall ye\nknow that I am king Meliodas\u2019 son, born of your own sister dame\nElizabeth, that died in the forest in the birth of me. Yea! said king\nMark, ye are welcome fair nephew to me. Then in all the haste the king\nlet horse Sir Tristram and arm him in the best manner that might be had\nor gotten for gold or silver. And then king Mark sent unto Sir Marhaus,\nand did him to wit that a better born man than he was himself should\nfight with him, and his name is Sir Tristram de Liones, gotten of king\nMeliodas, and born of king Mark\u2019s sister. Then was Sir Marhaus glad and\nblithe that he should fight with such a gentleman. And so by the assent\nof king Mark and Sir Marhaus they let ordain that they should fight\nwithin an island nigh Sir Marhaus\u2019 ships; and so was Sir Tristram put\ninto a vessel both his horse and he, and all that to him belonged both\nfor his body and for his horse. Sir Tristram lacked nothing. And when\nking Mark and his barons of Cornwall beheld how young Sir Tristram\ndeparted with such a carriage to fight for the right of Cornwall, there\nwas neither man nor woman of worship but they wept to see and\nunderstand so young a knight to jeopard himself for their right.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How Sir Tristram arrived into the island for to furnish the battle\n with Sir Marhaus._\n\nSo to shorten this tale, when Sir Tristram was arrived within the\nisland he looked to the further side, and there he saw at an anchor six\nships nigh to the land, and under the shadow of the ships upon the land\nthere hoved the noble knight Sir Marhaus of Ireland. Then Sir Tristram\ncommanded his servant Gouvernail to bring his horse to the land, and\ndress his harness at all manner of rights. And then when he had so done\nhe mounted upon his horse; and when he was in his saddle well\napparelled, and his shield dressed upon his shoulder, Tristram asked\nGouvernail, Where is this knight that I shall have ado withall? Sir,\nsaid Gouvernail, see ye him not? I wend ye had seen him, yonder he\nhoveth under the shadow of his ships upon horseback, with his spear in\nhis hand, and his shield upon his shoulder. That is truth, said the\nnoble knight Sir Tristram, now I see him well enough. Then he commanded\nhis servant Gouvernail to go to his vessel again, and command me unto\nmine uncle king Mark, and pray him if that I be slain in this battle,\nfor to inter my body as him seemeth best, and as for me let him wit\nthat I will never yield me for cowardice; and if I be slain and flee\nnot, then have they lost no truage for me; and if so be that I flee or\nyield me as recreant, bid mine uncle never bury me in Christian\nburials. And upon thy life, said Sir Tristram to Gouvernail, come thou\nnot nigh this island till that thou see me overcome or slain, or else\nthat I win yonder knight. So either departed from other sore weeping.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram fought against Sir Marhaus and achieved his battle,\n and how Sir Marhaus fled to his Ship._\n\nAnd then Sir Marhaus perceived Sir Tristram, and said thus: Young\nknight Sir Tristram, what doest thou here? Me sore repenteth of thy\ncourage, for wit thou well I have been assayed, and the best knights of\nthis land have been assayed of my hands, and also I have matched with\nthe best knights of the world, and therefore by my counsel return again\nunto thy vessel. And fair knight, and well proved knight, said Sir\nTristram, thou shalt well wit I may not forsake thee in this quarrel,\nfor I am for thy sake made knight. And thou shalt well wit that I am a\nking\u2019s son, born of a queen, and such promise I have made at mine\nuncle\u2019s request and mine own seeking, that I shall fight with thee unto\nthe uttermost, and deliver Cornwall from the old truage. And also wit\nthou well, Sir Marhaus, that this is the greatest cause that thou\ncouragest me to have ado with you, for thou art called one of the most\nrenowned knights of the world, and because of that noise and fame that\nthou hast, thou givest me courage to have ado with thee, for never yet\nwas I proved with good knight; and since I took the order of knighthood\nthis day I am well pleased that I may have ado with so good a knight as\nthou art. And now wit thou well, Sir Marhaus, that I cast me to get\nworship on thy body, and if that I be not proved, I trust I shall be\nworshipfully proved upon thy body, and to deliver the country of\nCornwall from all manner of truage from Ireland for ever. When Sir\nMarhaus had heard him say what he would, he said then thus again: Fair\nknight, since it is so that thou casteth to win worship of me, I let\nthee wit worship mayest thou none lose by me if thou mayest stand me\nthree strokes, for I let thee wit for my noble deeds, proved and seen,\nking Arthur made me knight of the Table Round. Then they began to\nfeuter their spears, and they met so fiercely together that they smote\neither other down both horse and all. But Sir Marhaus smote Sir\nTristram a great wound in the side with his spear, and then they\navoided their horses, and pulled out their swords, and threw their\nshields afore them, and then they lashed together as men that were wild\nand courageous. And when they had stricken so together long, then they\nleft their strokes, and foined at their breathes and visors; and when\nthey saw that that might not prevail them, then they hurtled together\nlike rams to bear either other down. Thus they fought still more than\nhalf a day, and either were wounded passing sore, that the blood ran\ndown freshly from them upon the ground. By then Sir Tristram waxed more\nfresher than Sir Marhaus, and better winded and bigger, and with a\nmighty stroke he smote Sir Marhaus upon the helm such a buffet, that it\nwent through his helm, and through the coif of steel, and through the\nbrain-pan, and the sword stuck so fast in the helm and in his brain-pan\nthat Sir Tristram pulled thrice at his sword or ever he might pull it\nout from his head, and there Marhaus fell down on his knees, the edge\nof Tristram\u2019s sword left in his brain-pan. And suddenly Sir Marhaus\nrose groveling, and threw his sword and his shield from him, and so ran\nto his ships and fled his way, and Sir Tristram had ever his shield and\nhis sword. And when Sir Tristram saw Sir Marhaus withdraw him, he said,\nAh sir knight of the Round Table, why withdrawest thou thee; thou doest\nthyself and thy kin great shame, for I am but a young knight, or now I\nwas never proved, and rather than I should withdraw me from thee, I had\nrather be hewn in an hundred pieces. Sir Marhaus answered no word, but\nwent his way sore groaning. Well sir knight, said Sir Tristram, I\npromise thee thy sword and thy shield shall be mine, and thy shield\nshall I wear in all places where I ride on mine adventures, and in the\nsight of king Arthur and all the Round Table.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How Sir Marhaus, after he was arrived in Ireland, died of the stroke\n that Tristram had given him, and how Tristram was hurt._\n\nAnon Sir Marhaus and his fellowship departed into Ireland. And as soon\nas he came to the king his brother he let search his wounds. And when\nhis head was searched, a piece of Sir Tristram\u2019s sword was found\ntherein, and might never be had out of his head for no surgeons, and so\nhe died of Sir Tristram\u2019s sword, and that piece of the sword the queen\nhis sister kept it for ever with her, for she thought to be revenged\nand she might.\n\nNow turn we again unto Sir Tristram, that was sore wounded, and full\nsore bled, that he might not within a little while when he had taken\ncold scarcely stir him of his limbs. And then he set him down softly\nupon a little hill, and bled fast. Then anon came Gouvernail his man\nwith his vessel, and the king and his barons came with procession\nagainst him, and when he was come to the land king Mark took him in his\narms, and the king and Sir Dinas the Seneschal led Sir Tristram into\nthe castle of Tintagil. And then was he searched in the best manner,\nand laid in his bed. And when king Mark saw his wounds he wept\nheartily, and so did all his lords. So God me help, said king Mark, I\nwould not for all my lands that my nephew died. So Sir Tristram lay\nthere a month and more, and ever he was like to die of that stroke that\nSir Marhaus smote him first with the spear. For, as the French book\nsaith, the spear\u2019s head was envenomed, that Sir Tristram might not be\nwhole. Then was king Mark and all his barons passing heavy, for they\ndeemed none other but that Sir Tristram should not recover. Then the\nking let send after all manner of leeches and surgeons, both unto men\nand women, and there was none that would behote him the life. Then came\nthere a lady that was a right wise lady, and she said plainly unto king\nMark and to Sir Tristram and to all his barons, that he should never be\nwhole, but if Sir Tristram went in the same country that the venom came\nfrom, and in that country should he be holpen or else never. Thus said\nthe lady unto the king. When king Mark understood that, he let purvey\nfor Sir Tristram a fair vessel, well victualled, and therein was put\nSir Tristram and Gouvernail with him, and Sir Tristram took his harp\nwith him, and so he was put into the sea to sail into Ireland, and so\nby good fortune he arrived up in Ireland, even fast by a castle where\nthe king and the queen was; and at his arrival he sat and harped in his\nbed a merry lay, such one heard they never none in Ireland afore that\ntime. And when it was told the king and the queen of such a knight that\nwas such an harper, anon the king sent for him, and let search his\nwounds, and then asked him his name. Then he answered, I am of the\ncountry of Liones, and my name is Tramtrist, that thus was wounded in a\nbattle as I fought for a lady\u2019s right. Truly, said king Anguish, ye\nshall have all the help in this land that ye may have here. But I let\nyou wit in Cornwall I had a great loss as ever had king, for there I\nlost the best knight of the world, his name was Marhaus, a full noble\nknight, and knight of the Table Round; and there he told Sir Tristram\nwherefore Sir Marhaus was slain. Sir Tristram made semblant as he had\nbeen sorry, and better knew he how it was than the king.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How Sir Tristram was put to the keeping of La Beale Isoud for to be\n healed of his wound._\n\nThen the king for great favour made Tramtrist to be put in his\ndaughter\u2019s ward and keeping, because she was a noble surgeon. And when\nshe had searched him she found in the bottom of his wound that therein\nwas poison, and so she healed him within a while, and therefore\nTramtrist cast great love to La Beale Isoud, for she was at that time\nthe fairest maid and lady of the world. And there Tramtrist learned her\nto harp, and she began to have a great fancy unto him. And at that time\nSir Palamides the Saracen was in that country, and well cherished with\nthe king and the queen. And every day Sir Palamides drew unto La Beale\nIsoud, and proffered her many gifts, for he loved her passingly well.\nAll that espied Tramtrist, and full well knew he Sir Palamides for a\nnoble knight and a mighty man. And wit ye well Sir Tramtrist had great\ndespite at Sir Palamides, for La Beale Isoud told Tramtrist that Sir\nPalamides was in will to be christened for her sake. Thus was there\ngreat envy betwixt Tramtrist and Sir Palamides. Then it befel that King\nAnguish let cry a great justs and a great tournament for a lady which\nwas called the lady of the lawns, and she was nigh cousin unto the\nking. And what man won her, three days after he should wed her, and\nhave all her lands. This cry was made in England, Wales, Scotland, and\nalso in France and in Britany. It befel upon a day La Beale Isoud came\nunto Sir Tramtrist and told him of this tournament. He answered and\nsaid, Fair lady, I am but a feeble knight, and but late I had been dead\nhad not your good ladyship been. Now, fair lady, what would ye I should\ndo in this matter? Well ye wot, my lady, that I may not just. Ah\nTramtrist, said La Beale Isoud, why will ye not have ado at that\ntournament? well I wot Sir Palamides shall be there and to do what he\nmay, and therefore Tramtrist I pray you for to be there, for else Sir\nPalamides is like to win the degree. Madam, said Tramtrist, as for that\nit may be so, for he is a proved knight, and I am but a young knight\nand late made, and the first battle that I did it mishapped me to be\nsore wounded as ye see. But and I wist ye would be my better lady, at\nthat tournament I will be, so that ye will keep my counsel, and let no\ncreature have knowledge that I shall just but yourself, and such as ye\nwill to keep your counsel; my poor person shall I jeopard there for\nyour sake, that peradventure Sir Palamides shall know when that I come.\nThereto, said La Beale Isoud, do your best, and as I can, said La Beale\nIsoud, I shall purvey horse and armour for you at my devise. As ye will\nso be it, said Sir Tramtrist, I will be at your commandment. So at the\nday of justs there came Sir Palamides with a black shield, and he\noverthrew many knights, that all the people had marvel of him. For he\nput to the worse Sir Gawaine, Gaheris, Agravaine, Bagdemagus, Kay,\nDodias le Savage, Sagramore le Desirous, Gumret le Petit, and Griflet\nle Fise de Dieu. All these the first day Sir Palamides strake down to\nthe earth. And then all manner of knights were adread of Sir Palamides,\nand many called him the knight with the black shield. So that day Sir\nPalamides had great worship. Then came king Anguish unto Tramtrist and\nasked him why he would not just. Sir, said he, I was but late hurt, and\nas yet I dare not adventure me. Then came there the same squire that\nwas sent from the king\u2019s daughter of France unto Sir Tristram. And when\nhe had espied Sir Tristram he fell flat to his feet. All that espied La\nBeale Isoud, what courtesy the squire made unto Sir Tristram. And\ntherewith all suddenly Sir Tristram ran unto his squire, whose name was\nHebes le Renoumes, and prayed him heartily in no wise to tell his name.\nSir, said Hebes, I will not discover your name but if ye command me.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How Sir Tristram won the degree at a tournament in Ireland, and there\n made Palamides to bear no harness in a year._\n\nThen Sir Tristram asked him what he did in those countries. Sir, he\nsaid, I came hither with Sir Gawaine for to be made knight, and if it\nplease you, of your hands that I may be made knight. Await upon me as\nto-morn, secretly, and in the field I shall make you a knight. Then had\nLa Beale Isoud great suspicion unto Tramtrist that he was some man of\nworship proved, and therewith she comforted herself, and cast more love\nunto him than she had done tofore. And so on the morn Sir Palamides\nmade him ready to come into the field as he did the first day. And\nthere he smote down the king with the hundred knights, and the king of\nScotland. Then had La Beale Isoud ordained and well arrayed Sir\nTramtrist in white horse and harness. And right so she let put him out\nat a privy postern, and so he came into the field as it had been a\nbright angel. And anon Sir Palamides espied him, and therewith he\nfeutered a spear unto Sir Tramtrist, and he again unto him. And there\nSir Tristram smote down Sir Palamides unto the earth. And then there\nwas a great noise of people: some said Sir Palamides had a fall, some\nsaid the knight with the black shield had a fall. And wit you well La\nBeale Isoud was passing glad. And then Sir Gawaine and his fellows nine\nhad marvel what knight it might be that had smitten down Sir Palamides.\nThen would there none just with Tramtrist, but all that were there\nforsook him, most and least. Then Sir Tristram made Hebes a knight, and\ncaused him to put himself forth, and did right well that day. So after\nSir Hebes held him with Sir Tristram. And when Sir Palamides had\nreceived this fall, wit ye well he was sore ashamed: and as privily as\nhe might he withdrew him out of the field. All that espied Sir\nTristram, and lightly he rode after Sir Palamides, and overtook him,\nand bad him turn, for better he would assay him or ever he departed.\nThen Sir Palamides turned him, and either lashed at other with their\nswords. But at the first stroke Sir Tristram smote down Palamides, and\ngave him such a stroke upon the head that he fell to the earth. So then\nTristram bad yield him and do his commandment, or else he would slay\nhim. When Sir Palamides beheld his countenance, he dread his buffets so\nthat he granted all his askings. Well said, said Sir Tristram, this\nshall be your charge. First upon pain of your life that ye forsake my\nlady La Beale Isoud, and in no manner wise that ye draw not to her.\nAlso this twelvemonth and a day that ye bear none armour nor none\nharness of war. Now promise me this, or here shalt thou die. Alas, said\nPalamides, for ever am I ashamed. Then he sware as Sir Tristram had\ncommanded him. Then for despite and anger Sir Palamides cut off his\nharness and threw them away. And so Sir Tristram turned again to the\ncastle where was La Beale Isoud, and by the way he met with a damsel\nthat asked after Sir Launcelot, that won the Dolorous Gard\nworshipfully, and this damsel asked Sir Tristram what he was: for it\nwas told her that it was he that smote down Sir Palamides, by whom the\nten knights of king Arthur were smitten down. Then the damsel prayed\nSir Tristram to tell her what he was, and whether that he were Sir\nLauncelot du Lake, for she deemed that there was no knight in the world\nmight do such deeds of arms but if it were Launcelot. Fair damsel, said\nSir Tristram, wit ye well that I am not Sir Launcelot, for I was never\nof such prowess, but in God is all, that he may make me as good a\nknight as the good knight Sir Launcelot. Now, gentle knight, said she,\nput up thy visor. And when she beheld his visage she thought she saw\nnever a better man\u2019s visage, nor a better faring knight. And then when\nthe damsel knew certainly that he was not Sir Launcelot, then she took\nher leave and departed from him. And then Sir Tristram rode privily\nunto the postern where kept him La Beale Isoud, and there she made him\ngood cheer, and thanked God of his good speed. So anon within a while\nthe king and the queen understood that it was Tramtrist that smote down\nSir Palamides; then was he much made of more than he was before.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How the queen espied that Sir Tristram had slain her brother Sir\n Marhaus by his sword, and in what jeopardy he was._\n\nThus was Sir Tramtrist long there well cherished with the king and the\nqueen, and namely with La Beale Isoud. So upon a day the queen and La\nBeale Isoud made a bath for Sir Tramtrist, and when he was in his bath\nthe queen and Isoud her daughter roamed up and down in the chamber, and\nthere whiles Gouvernail and Hebes attended upon Tramtrist, and the\nqueen beheld his sword there as it lay upon his bed. And then by unhap\nthe queen drew out his sword and beheld it a long while, and both they\nthought it a passing fair sword, but within a foot and an half of the\npoint there was a great piece thereof out broken of the edge. And when\nthe queen espied that gap in the sword, she remembered her of a piece\nof a sword that was found in the brain-pan of Sir Marhaus, the good\nknight that was her brother. Alas, then said she unto her daughter La\nBeale Isoud, this is the same traitor knight that slew my brother thine\nuncle. When Isoud heard her say so she was passing sore abashed, for\npassing well she loved Sir Tramtrist, and full well she knew the\ncruelness of her mother the queen. Anon therewithal the queen went unto\nher own chamber and sought her coffer, and there she took out the piece\nof the sword that was pulled out of Sir Marhaus\u2019 head after that he was\ndead. And then she ran with that piece of iron to the sword that lay\nupon the bed. And when she put that piece of steel and iron unto the\nsword, it was as meet as it might be when it was new broken. And then\nthe queen griped that sword in her hand fiercely, and with all her\nmight she ran straight upon Tramtrist, where he sat in his bath, and\nthere she had rived him through had not Sir Hebes gotten her in his\narms, and pulled the sword from her, and else she had thrust him\nthrough. Then when she was letted of her evil will, she ran to the king\nAnguish her husband, and said on her knees, Oh my lord, here have ye in\nyour house that traitor knight that slew my brother and your servant,\nthat noble knight Sir Marhaus. Who is that, said king Anguish, and\nwhere is he? Sir, she said, it is Sir Tramtrist, the same knight that\nmy daughter healed. Alas, said the king, therefore am I right heavy,\nfor he is a full noble knight as ever I saw in field. But I charge you,\nsaid the king to the queen, that ye have not ado with that knight, but\nlet me deal with him. Then the king went into the chamber unto Sir\nTramtrist, and then was he gone unto his chamber, and the king found\nhim all ready armed to mount upon his horse. When the king saw him all\nready armed to go unto horseback, the king said, Nay, Tramtrist, it\nwill not avail to compare thee against me. But thus much I shall do for\nmy worship and for thy love; in so much as thou art within my court, it\nwere no worship for me to slay thee, therefore upon this condition I\nwill give thee leave to depart from this court in safety, so thou wilt\ntell me who was thy father, and what is thy name, and if thou slew Sir\nMarhaus, my brother.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram departed from the king and La Beale Isoud out of\n Ireland for to come into Cornwall._\n\nSir, said Tristram, now I shall tell you all the truth: my father\u2019s\nname is Meliodas, king of Liones, and my mother hight Elizabeth, that\nwas sister unto king Mark of Cornwall; and my mother died of me in the\nforest, and because thereof she commanded or she died that when I were\nchristened that they should christen me Tristram, and because I would\nnot be known in this country I turned my name, and let me call\nTramtrist; and for the truage of Cornwall I fought for mine uncle\u2019s\nsake, and for the right of Cornwall that ye had possessed many years.\nAnd wit ye well, said Tristram unto the king, I did the battle for the\nlove of mine uncle king Mark, and for the love of the country of\nCornwall, and for to increase mine honour. For that same day that I\nfought with Sir Marhaus I was made knight, and never or then did I no\nbattle with no knight, and from me he went alive, and left his shield\nand his sword behind. Truly, said the king, I may not say but ye did as\na knight should, and it was your part to do for your quarrel, and to\nincrease your worship as a knight should; howbeit I may not maintain\nyou in this country with my worship, unless that I should displease my\nbarons, and my wife, and her kin. Sir, said Tristram, I thank you of\nyour good lordship that I have had with you here, and the great\ngoodness my lady your daughter hath shewed me, and therefore, said Sir\nTristram, it may so happen that ye shall win more by my life than by my\ndeath, for in the parts of England it may happen I may do you service\nat some season that ye shall be glad that ever ye shewed me your good\nlordship. With more I promise you as I am true knight, that in all\nplaces I shall be my lady your daughter\u2019s servant and knight in right\nand in wrong, and I shall never fail her never to do as much as a\nknight may do. Also I beseech your good grace that I may take my leave\nat my lady your daughter, and at all the barons and knights. I will\nwell, said the king. Then Sir Tristram went unto La Beale Isoud and\ntook his leave of her. And then he told her all, what he was, and how\nhe had changed his name because he would not be known, and how a lady\ntold him that he should never be whole till he came into this country\nwhere the poison was made:\u2014Where through I was near my death, had not\nyour ladyship been. Oh gentle knight, said La Beale Isoud, full wo am I\nof thy departing, for I saw never man that I owed so good will to. And\ntherewithal she wept heartily. Madam, said Sir Tristram, ye shall\nunderstand that my name is Sir Tristram de Liones, son of king Meliodas\nand of his queen. And I promise you faithfully that I shall be all the\ndays of my life your knight. Gramercy, said La Beale Isoud, and I\npromise you there against that I shall not be married this seven years\nbut by your assent, and to whom that ye will I shall be married, him\nwill I have, and he will have me if ye will consent. And then Sir\nTristram gave her a ring and she gave him another, and therewith he\ndeparted from her, leaving her making great dole and lamentation. And\nhe straight went unto the court among all the barons, and there he took\nhis leave at most and least, and openly he said among them all, Fair\nlords, now it is so that I must depart. If there be any man here that I\nhave offended unto, or that any man be with me grieved, let complain\nhim here afore me or that ever I depart, and I shall amend it unto my\npower. And if there be any that will proffer me wrong, or say of me\nwrong or shame behind my back, say it now or never, and here is my body\nto make it good, body against body. And all they stood still, there was\nnot one that would say one word, yet were there some knights that were\nof the queen\u2019s blood, and of Sir Marhaus\u2019s blood, but they would not\nmeddle with him.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram and king Mark hurt each other for the love of a\n knight\u2019s wife._\n\nSo Sir Tristram departed, and took the sea, and with good wind he\narrived up at Tintagil in Cornwall. And when king Mark was whole in his\nprosperity there came tidings that Sir Tristram was arrived and whole\nof his wounds; thereof was king Mark passing glad, and so were all the\nbarons. And when he saw his time, he rode unto his father king\nMeliodas, and there he had all the cheer that the king and the queen\ncould make him. And then largely king Meliodas and his queen parted of\ntheir lands and goods to Sir Tristram. Then by the licence of king\nMeliodas his father he returned again unto the court of king Mark, and\nthere he lived in great joy long time, until at the last there befel a\njealousy and an unkindness between king Mark and Sir Tristram, for they\nloved both one lady, and she was an earl\u2019s wife, that hight Sir\nSegwarides. And this lady loved Sir Tristram passing well, and he loved\nher again, for she was a passing fair lady, and that espied Sir\nTristram well. Then king Mark understood that, and was jealous, for\nking Mark loved her passingly well. So it fell upon a day, this lady\nsent a dwarf unto Sir Tristram, and bad him say that as he loved her\nthat he would be with her the next day following. Also she charged you\nthat ye come not to her but if ye be well armed, for her lover was\ncalled a good knight. Sir Tristram answered to the dwarf, Recommend me\nunto my lady, and tell her I will not fail but I will be with her the\nterm that she hath set me. And with this answer the dwarf departed. And\nking Mark espied that the dwarf was with Sir Tristram, upon message\nfrom Sir Segwarides\u2019s wife; then king Mark sent for the dwarf. And when\nhe was come he made the dwarf by force to tell him all, why and\nwherefore that he came on message to Sir Tristram. Now, said king Mark,\ngo where thou wilt, and upon pain of death that thou say no word that\nthou spakest with me. So the dwarf departed from the king. And that\nsame time that was set betwixt Sir Segwarides\u2019s wife and Sir Tristram,\nking Mark armed him, and made him ready, and took two knights of his\ncouncil with him, and so he rode afore, for to abide by the way, to\nawait upon Sir Tristram. And as Sir Tristram came riding upon his way,\nwith his spear in his hand, king Mark came hurtling upon him with his\ntwo knights suddenly. And all three smote him with their spears, and\nking Mark hurt Sir Tristram on the breast right sore; and then Sir\nTristram feutered his spear, and smote his uncle king Mark such a\nstroke that he rashed him to the earth, and bruised him that he lay\nstill in a swoon, and it was long or he might move himself; and then he\nran to the one knight, and oft to the other, and smote them to the cold\nearth, that they lay still. And therewithal Sir Tristram rode forth\nsore wounded to the lady, and found her abiding him at a postern.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How Sir Tristram came to the lady, and how her husband fought with Sir\n Tristram._\n\nAnd there she welcomed him fair, and so she let put up his horse in the\nbest wise, and then she unarmed him: and so they supped lightly, and\nwithin a while there came one that warned her that her lord was near\nhand, within a bow draft. So she made Sir Tristram to arise, and so he\narmed him, and took his horse, and so departed. By then was come Sir\nSegwarides, and when he found that there had been a knight, Ah, false\ntraitress, then he said, why hast thou betrayed me? And therewithal he\nswung out a sword, and said, But if thou tell me who hath been here,\nhere thou shalt die. Ah, my lord, mercy, said the lady, and held up her\nhands, saying, Slay me not, and I shall tell you all who hath been\nhere. Tell anon, said Sir Segwarides, to me all the truth. Anon for\ndread she said, Here was Sir Tristram with me, and by the way as he\ncame to me ward he was sore wounded. Ah, thou false traitress, said Sir\nSegwarides, where is he become? Sir, she said, he is armed, and\ndeparted on horseback, not yet hence half-a-mile. Ye say well, said\nSegwarides. Then he armed him lightly, and gat his horse, and rode\nafter Sir Tristram, that rode straightway unto Tintagil. And within a\nwhile he overtook Sir Tristram, and then he bad him turn, false traitor\nknight, and Sir Tristram anon turned him against him. And therewithal\nSegwarides smote Sir Tristram with a spear that it all to-brast; and\nthen he swung out his sword, and smote fast at Sir Tristram. Sir\nknight, said Sir Tristram, I counsel you that ye smite no more,\nhowbeit, for the wrongs that I have done you, I will forbear you as\nlong as I may. Nay, said Segwarides, that shall not be, for either thou\nshalt die or I. Then Sir Tristram drew out his sword, and hurtled his\nhorse unto him fiercely, and through the waist of the body he smote Sir\nSegwarides that he fell to the earth in a swoon. And so Sir Tristram\ndeparted and left him there, and so he rode unto Tintagil, and took his\nlodging secretly, for he would not be known that he was hurt. Also, Sir\nSegwarides\u2019s men rode after their master, whom they found lying in the\nfield sore wounded, and brought him home on his shield, and there he\nlay long or that he were whole, but at the last he recovered. Also king\nMark would not be aknown of, that Sir Tristram and he had met that\ntime. And as for Sir Tristram, he wist not that it had been king Mark\nthat had met with him. And so the king\u2019s assistance came to Sir\nTristram, to comfort him as he lay sick in his bed. But as long as king\nMark lived he loved never Sir Tristram after that: though there was\nfair speech, love was there none. And thus it passed many weeks and\ndays, and all was forgiven and forgotten. For Sir Segwarides durst not\nhave ado with Sir Tristram, because of his noble prowess, and also\nbecause he was nephew unto king Mark, therefore he let it over slip,\nfor he that hath a privy hurt is loth to have a shame outward.\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n_How Sir Bleoberis demanded the fairest lady in king Mark\u2019s court, whom\n he took away, and how he was fought with._\n\nThen it befel upon a day, that the good knight Bleoberis de Ganis,\nbrother to Blamore de Ganis, and nigh cousin unto the good knight Sir\nLauncelot du Lake,\u2014this Bleoberis came unto the court of king Mark,\nand there he asked of king Mark a boon, to give him what gift he would\nask in his court. When the king heard him ask so, he marvelled of his\nasking, but because he was a knight of the Round Table, and of a great\nrenown, king Mark granted him his whole asking. Then, said Sir\nBleoberis, I will have the fairest lady in your court that me list to\nchoose. I may not say nay, said king Mark; now choose at your\nadventure. And so Sir Bleoberis did chose Sir Segwarides\u2019s wife, and\ntook her by the hand, and so went his way with her, and so he took his\nhorse and let set her behind his squire, and rode upon his way. When\nSir Segwarides heard tell that his lady was gone with a knight of king\nArthur\u2019s court, then anon he armed him, and rode after that knight for\nto rescue his lady. So when Bleoberis was gone with this lady, king\nMark and all the court was wroth that she was away. Then were there\ncertain ladies that knew that there was great love between Sir Tristram\nand her, and also that lady loved Sir Tristram above all other knights.\nThen there was one lady that rebuked Sir Tristram in the horriblest\nwise, and called him coward knight, that he would for shame of his\nknighthood see a lady so shamefully taken away from his uncle\u2019s court.\nBut Sir Tristram answered her thus: Fair lady, it is not my part to\nhave ado in such matters, while her lord and husband is present here.\nAnd if it had been that her lord had not been here in this court, then\nfor the worship of this court peradventure I would have been her\nchampion, and if so be Sir Segwarides speed not well, it may happen\nthat I will speak with that good knight or ever he pass from this\ncountry. Then within awhile came one of Sir Segwarides\u2019s squires, and\ntold in the court that Sir Segwarides was beaten sore and wounded to\nthe point of death: as he would have rescued his lady Sir Bleoberis\noverthrew him, and sore hath wounded him. Then was king Mark heavy\nthereof, and all the court. When Sir Tristram heard of this he was\nashamed and sore grieved. And then was he soon armed and on horseback,\nand Gouvernail his servant bare his shield and spear. And so as Sir\nTristram rode fast he met with Sir Andret his cousin, that by the\ncommandment of king Mark was sent to bring forth, and ever it lay in\nhis power two knights of king Arthur\u2019s court, that rode by the country\nto seek their adventures. When Sir Tristram saw Sir Andret he asked him\nwhat tidings. Truly, said Sir Andret, there was never worse with me,\nfor here by the commandment of king Mark I was sent to fetch two\nknights of king Arthur\u2019s court, and that one beat me and wounded me,\nand set nought by my message. Fair cousin, said Sir Tristram, ride on\nyour way, and if I may meet them it may happen I shall revenge you. So\nSir Andret rode into Cornwall, and Sir Tristram rode after the two\nknights, the which one hight Sagramore le Desirous, and that other\nhight Dodinas le Savage.\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n_How Sir Tristram fought with two knights of the Round Table._\n\nThen within awhile Sir Tristram saw them afore him two likely knights.\nSir, said Gouvernail unto his master, Sir, I would counsel you not to\nhave ado with them, for they be two proved knights of Arthur\u2019s court.\nAs for that, said Sir Tristram, have ye no doubt but I will have ado\nwith them to encrease my worship, for it is many day sithen I did any\ndeeds of arms. Do as ye list, said Gouvernail. And therewithal anon Sir\nTristram asked them from whence they came, and whither they would, and\nwhat they did in those marches. Sir Sagramore looked upon Sir Tristram,\nand had scorn of his words, and asked him again, Fair knight, be ye a\nknight of Cornwall? Whereby ask ye it? said Sir Tristram. For it is\nseldom seen, said Sir Sagramore, that ye Cornish knights be valiant men\nof arms: for within these two hours there met us one of you Cornish\nknights, and great words he spake, and anon with little might he was\nlaid to the earth. And, as I trow, said Sir Sagramore, ye shall have\nthe same handsel that he had. Fair lords, said Sir Tristram, it may so\nhappen that I may better withstand than he did, and whether ye will or\nnill I will have ado with you, because he was my cousin that ye beat.\nAnd therefore here do your best; and wit ye well but if ye quit you the\nbetter here upon this ground one knight of Cornwall shall beat you\nboth. When Sir Dodinas le Savage heard him say so, he gat a spear in\nhis hand, and said, Sir knight, keep well thyself. And then they\ndeparted, and came together as it had been thunder. And Sir Dodinas\u2019\nspear brast in sunder, but Sir Tristram smote him with a more might,\nthat he smote him clean over the horse croup, that nigh he had broken\nhis neck. When Sir Sagramore saw his fellow have such a fall he\nmarvelled what knight he might be, and he dressed his spear with all\nhis might, and Sir Tristram against him, and they came together as the\nthunder, and there Sir Tristram smote Sir Sagramore a strong buffet,\nthat he bare his horse and him to the earth, and in the falling he\nbrake his thigh. When this was done Sir Tristram asked them, Fair\nknights, will ye any more? Be there no bigger knights in the court of\nking Arthur? It is to you shame to say of us knights of Cornwall\ndishonour, for it may happen a Cornish knight may match you. That is\ntruth, said Sir Sagramore, that have we well proved; but I require\nthee, said Sir Sagramore, tell us your right name, by the faith and\ntruth that ye owe to the high order of knighthood. Ye charge me with a\ngreat thing, said Sir Tristram, and sithen ye list to wit it, ye shall\nknow and understand that my name is Sir Tristram de Liones, king\nMeliodas\u2019 son, and nephew unto king Mark. Then were they two knights\nfain that they had met with Sir Tristram, and so they prayed him to\nabide in their fellowship. Nay, said Sir Tristram, for I must have ado\nwith one of your fellows, his name is Sir Bleoberis de Ganis. God speed\nyou well, said Sir Sagramore and Dodinas. Sir Tristram departed, and\nrode onward on his way, and then was he ware before him in a valley\nwhere rode Sir Bleoberis with Sir Segwarides\u2019s lady, that rode behind\nhis squire upon a palfrey.\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram fought with Sir Bleoberis for a lady, and how the\n lady was put to choice to whom she would go._\n\nThen Sir Tristram rode more than a pace until that he had overtaken\nhim. Then spake Sir Tristram: Abide, he said, knight of Arthur\u2019s court,\nbring again that lady, or deliver her to me. I will do neither, said\nSir Bleoberis, for I dread no Cornish knight so sore that me list to\ndeliver her. Why, said Sir Tristram, may not a Cornish knight do as\nwell as another knight? This same day two knights of your court, within\nthis three mile met with me, and or ever we departed they found a\nCornish knight good enough for them both. What were their names? said\nBleoberis. They told me, said Sir Tristram, that the one of them hight\nSir Sagramore le Desirous, and the other hight Dodinas le Savage. Ah,\nsaid Sir Bleoberis, have ye met with them? Truly they were two good\nknights, and men of great worship, and if ye have beat them both ye\nmust needs be a good knight: but if it so be that ye have beat them\nboth, yet shall ye not fear me, but ye shall beat me or ever ye have\nthis lady. Then defend you, said Sir Tristram. So they departed and\ncame together like thunder, and either bare other down, horse and all,\nto the earth. Then they avoided their horses and lashed together\neagerly with swords, and mightily, now tracing and traversing on the\nright hand and on the left hand more than two hours. And sometimes they\nrushed together with such a might that they lay both groveling on the\nground. Then Sir Bleoberis de Ganis start aback, and said thus: Now,\ngentle good knight, a while hold your hands and let us speak together.\nSay what ye will, said Sir Tristram, and I will answer you. Sir, said\nBleoberis, I would wit of whence ye be, and of whom ye be come, and\nwhat is your name? Truly, said Sir Tristram, I fear not to tell you my\nname: wit ye well I am king Meliodas\u2019 son, and my mother is king Mark\u2019s\nsister, and my name is Sir Tristram de Liones, and king Mark is mine\nuncle. Truly, said Bleoberis, I am right glad of you, for ye are he\nthat slew Marhaus, knight, hand for hand in an island for the truage of\nCornwall; also ye overcame Sir Palamides the good knight at a\ntournament in an island, where ye beat Sir Gawaine and his nine\nfellows. Wit ye well, said Sir Tristram, that I am the same knight. Now\nI have told you my name, tell me yours with good will. Wit ye well that\nmy name is Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, and my brother hight Sir Blamor de\nGanis, that is called a good knight, and we be sister\u2019s children unto\nmy lord Sir Launcelot du Lake, that we call one of the best knights of\nthe world. That is truth, said Sir Tristram; Sir Launcelot is called\npeerless of courtesy and of knighthood; and for his sake, said Sir\nTristram, I will not with my good will fight no more with you, for the\ngreat love I have to Sir Launcelot du Lake. In good faith, said\nBleoberis, as for me, I will be loth to fight with you. But since ye\nfollow me here to have this lady, I shall proffer you kindness,\ncourtesy, and gentleness, right here upon this ground. This lady shall\nbe betwixt us both, and to whom that she will go, let him have her in\npeace. I will well, said Tristram, for, as I deem, she will leave you\nand come to me. Ye shall prove it anon, said Bleoberis.\n\n\n CHAP. XVIII.\n\n_How the lady forsook Sir Tristram and abode with Sir Bleoberis, and\n how she desired to go to her husband._\n\nSo when she was set betwixt them both, she said these words unto Sir\nTristram: Wit ye well, Sir Tristram de Liones, that but late thou was\nthe man in the world that I most loved and trusted, and I wend thou\nhaddest loved me again above all ladies. But when thou sawest this\nknight lead me away, thou madest no cheer to rescue me, but suffered my\nlord Sir Segwarides to ride after me, but until that time I wend thou\nhaddest loved me, and therefore now I will leave thee, and never love\nthee more. And therewithal she went unto Sir Bleoberis. When Sir\nTristram saw her do so, he was wonderly wroth with that lady, and\nashamed to come to the court. Sir Tristram, said Sir Bleoberis, ye are\nin the default, for I hear, by this lady\u2019s words, she, before this day,\ntrusted you above all earthly knights, and, as she saith, ye have\ndeceived her; therefore, wit ye well, there may no man hold that will\naway, and rather than ye should be heartily displeased with me, I would\nye had her and she would abide with you. Nay, said the lady, I will\nnever go with him, for he that I loved most I wend he had loved me. And\ntherefore, Sir Tristram, she said, ride as thou came for though thou\nhaddest overcome this knight, as ye were likely, with thee never would\nI have gone. And I shall pray this knight so fair of his knighthood,\nthat or ever he pass this country he will lead me to the abbey where my\nlord Sir Segwarides lieth. Truly, said Bleoberis, I let you wit, good\nknight Sir Tristram, because king Mark gave me the choice of a gift in\nthis court, and so this lady liked me best, notwithstanding she is\nwedded and hath a lord, and I have fulfilled my quest, she shall be\nsent unto her husband again, and in especial most for your sake Sir\nTristram: and if she would go with you I would ye had her. I thank you,\nsaid Sir Tristram, but for her love I shall be ware what manner of lady\nI shall love or trust. For had her lord Sir Segwarides been away from\nthe court I should have been the first that should have followed you,\nbut since ye have refused me, as I am a true knight I shall her know\npassingly well that I shall love or trust. And so they took their leave\none from the other and departed. And so Sir Tristram rode unto\nTintagil, and Sir Bleoberis rode unto the abbey where Sir Segwarides\nlay sore wounded, and there he delivered his lady and departed as a\nnoble knight. And when Sir Segwarides saw his lady he was greatly\ncomforted. And then she told him that Sir Tristram had done great\nbattle with Sir Bleoberis, and caused him to bring her again. These\nwords pleased Sir Segwarides right well, that Sir Tristram would do so\nmuch; and so that lady told all the battle unto king Mark betwixt Sir\nTristram and Sir Bleoberis.\n\n\n CHAP. XIX.\n\n_How King Mark sent Sir Tristram for La Beale Isoud toward Ireland, and\n how by fortune he arrived into England._\n\nThen when this was done king Mark cast always in his heart how he might\ndestroy Sir Tristram. And then he imagined in himself to send Sir\nTristram into Ireland for La Beale Isoud. For Sir Tristram had so\npraised her beauty and her goodness that king Mark said he would wed\nher, whereupon he prayed Sir Tristram to take his way into Ireland for\nhim on message. And all this was done to the intent to slay Sir\nTristram. Notwithstanding, Sir Tristram would not refuse the message\nfor no danger nor peril that might fall for the pleasure of his uncle,\nbut to go he made him ready in the most goodliest wise that might be\ndevised. For Sir Tristram took with him the most goodliest knights that\nhe might find in the court, and they were arrayed after the guise that\nwas then used in the goodliest manner. So Sir Tristram departed and\ntook the sea with all his fellowship. And anon as he was in the broad\nsea, a tempest took him and his fellowship and drove them back into the\ncoast of England, and there they arrived fast by Camelot, and full fain\nthey were to take the land. And when they were landed Sir Tristram set\nup his pavilion upon the land of Camelot, and there he let hang his\nshield upon the pavilion. And that day came two knights of king\nArthur\u2019s, that one was Sir Ector de Maris, and Sir Morganor. And they\ntouched the shield and bad him come out of the pavilion for to just,\nand he would just. Ye shall be answered, said Sir Tristram, and ye will\ntarry a little while. So he made him ready, and first he smote down Sir\nEctor de Maris, and after he smote down Sir Morganor, all with one\nspear, and sore bruised them. And when they lay upon the earth they\nasked Sir Tristram what he was, and of what country he was knight. Fair\nlords, said Sir Tristram, wit ye well that I am of Cornwall. Alas, said\nSir Ector, now am I ashamed that ever any Cornish knight should\novercome me. And then for despite Sir Ector put off his armour from\nhim, and went on foot, and would not ride.\n\n\n CHAP. XX.\n\n_How king Anguish of Ireland was summoned to come unto king Arthur\u2019s\n court for treason._\n\nThen it fell that Sir Bleoberis and Sir Blamor de Ganis that were\nbrethren, they had summoned the king Anguish of Ireland to come to\nArthur\u2019s court, upon pain of forfeiture of king Arthur\u2019s good grace.\nAnd if the king of Ireland came not in at the day assigned and set, the\nking should lose his lands. So by it happened that at the day assigned,\nking Arthur neither Sir Launcelot might not be there for to give the\njudgment, for king Arthur was with Sir Launcelot at the castle Joyous\nGard. And so king Arthur assigned king Carados and the king of Scots to\nbe there that day as judges. So when the kings were at Camelot king\nAnguish of Ireland was come to know his accusers. Then was there Blamor\nde Ganis, and appealed the king of Ireland of treason, that he had\nslain a cousin of his in his court in Ireland by treason. The king was\nsore abashed of his accusation, for why? he was come at the summoning\nof king Arthur, and or that he came at Camelot he wist not wherefore he\nwas sent after. And when the king heard Sir Blamor say his will, he\nunderstood full well there was none other remedy but to answer him\nknightly. For the custom was such in those days, that and any man were\nappealed of any treason or murder, he should fight body for body, or\nelse to find another knight for him. And all manner of murderers in\nthose days were called treason. So when king Anguish understood his\naccusing he was passing heavy, for he knew Sir Blamor de Ganis that he\nwas a noble knight, and of noble knights come. Then the king of Ireland\nwas simply purveyed of his answer, therefore the judges gave him\nrespite by the third day to give his answer. So the king departed unto\nhis lodging. The mean while there came a lady by Sir Tristram\u2019s\npavilion making great dole. What aileth you, said Sir Tristram, that ye\nmake such dole? Ah, fair knight, said the lady, I am ashamed unless\nthat some good knight help me, for a great lady of worship sent by me a\nfair child and a rich unto Sir Launcelot du Lake, and hereby there met\nwith me a knight and threw me down from my palfrey, and took away the\nchild from me. Well my lady, said Sir Tristram, and for my lord Sir\nLauncelot\u2019s sake I shall get you that child again, or else I shall be\nbeaten for it. And so Sir Tristram took his horse, and asked the lady\nwhich way the knight rode. And then she told him. And he rode after\nhim, and within a mile he overtook that knight. And then Sir Tristram\nbad him turn and give again the child.\n\n\n CHAP. XXI.\n\n_How Sir Tristram rescued a child from a knight, and how Gouvernail\n told him of king Anguish._\n\nThe knight turned his horse, and he made him ready for to fight. And\nthen Sir Tristram smote him with a sword such a buffet that he tumbled\nto the earth. And then he yielded him unto Sir Tristram. Then come thy\nway, said Sir Tristram, and bring the child to the lady again. So he\ntook his horse meekly and rode with Sir Tristram, and then by the way\nSir Tristram asked him his name. Then he said, My name is Breuse Saunce\nPit\u00e9. So when he had delivered that child to the lady he said, Sir, as\nin this the child is well remedied. Then Sir Tristram let him go again,\nthat sore repented him after, for he was a great foe unto many good\nknights of king Arthur\u2019s court. Then when Sir Tristram was in his\npavilion, Gouvernail his man came and told him how that king Anguish of\nIreland was come thither, and he was put in great distress, and there\nGouvernail told Sir Tristram how king Anguish was summoned and appealed\nof murder. Truly, said Sir Tristram, these be the best tidings that\never came to me this seven year, for now shall the king of Ireland have\nneed of my help, for I dare say there is no knight in this country that\nis not of Arthur\u2019s court dare do battle with Sir Blamor de Ganis, and\nfor to win the love of the king of Ireland I will take the battle upon\nme, and therefore Gouvernail bring me, I charge thee, to the king. Then\nGouvernail went unto king Anguish of Ireland and saluted him fair. The\nking welcomed him and asked him what he would. Sir, said Gouvernail,\nhere is a knight near hand that desireth to speak with you: he bad me\nsay he would do you service. What knight is he, said the king. Sir, he\nsaid, it is Sir Tristram de Liones, that for your good grace ye shewed\nhim in your lands will reward you in these countries. Come on fellow,\nsaid the king, with me anon, and shew me unto Sir Tristram. So the king\ntook a little hackney and but few fellowship with him until he came\nunto Sir Tristram\u2019s pavilion. And when Sir Tristram saw the king, he\nran unto him and would have holden his stirrup. But the king lept from\nhis horse lightly, and either halsed other in arms. My gracious lord,\nsaid Sir Tristram, gramercy of your great goodnesses shewed unto me in\nyour marches and lands: and at that time I promised you to do my\nservice and ever it lay in my power. And gentle knight, said the king\nunto Sir Tristram, now have I great need of you; never had I so great\nneed of no knight\u2019s help. How so, my good lord? said Sir Tristram. I\nshall tell you, said the king. I am summoned and appealed from my\ncountry for the death of a knight that was kin unto the good knight Sir\nLauncelot, wherefore Sir Blamor de Ganis, brother to Sir Bleoberis,\nhath appealed me to fight with him, other to find a knight in my stead.\nAnd well I wot, said the king, these that are come of king Ban\u2019s blood,\nas Sir Launcelot and these other, are passing good knights, and hard\nmen for to win in battle as any that I know now living. Sir, said Sir\nTristram, for the good lordship ye shewed me in Ireland, and for my\nlady your daughter\u2019s sake, La Beale Isoud, I will take the battle for\nyou upon this condition that ye shall grant me two things: that one is,\nthat ye shall swear to me that ye are in the right, that ye were never\nconsenting to the knight\u2019s death; Sir, then, said Sir Tristram, when\nthat I have done this battle, if God give me grace that I speed, that\nye shall give me a reward, what thing reasonable that I will ask of\nyou. Truly, said the king, ye shall have whatsoever ye will ask. It is\nwell said, said Sir Tristram.\n\n\n CHAP. XXII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram fought for Sir Anguish and overcame his adversary,\n and how his adversary would never yield him._\n\nNow make your answer that your champion is ready, for I shall die in\nyour quarrel rather than to be recreant. I have no doubt of you, said\nthe king, that and ye should have ado with Sir Launcelot du Lake. Sir,\nsaid Sir Tristram, as for Sir Launcelot, he is called the noblest\nknight of the world, and wit ye well that the knights of his blood are\nnoble men and dread shame; and as for Sir Bleoberis, brother to Sir\nBlamor, I have done battle with him, therefore upon my head it is no\nshame to call him a good knight. It is noised, said the king, that\nBlamor is the hardier knight. Sir, as for that, let him be, he shall\nnever be refused, and as he were the best knight that now beareth\nshield or spear. So king Anguish departed unto king Carados and the\nkings that were that time as judges, and told them that he had found\nhis champion ready. And then by the commandments of the kings Sir\nBlamor de Ganis and Sir Tristram were sent for, to hear the charge. And\nwhen they were come before the judges, there were many kings and\nknights beheld Sir Tristram, and much speech they had of him because he\nslew Sir Marhaus the good knight, and because he forjusted Sir\nPalamides the good knight. So when they had taken their charge they\nwithdrew them for to make them ready to do battle. Then said Sir\nBleoberis to his brother Sir Blamor, Fair dear brother, remember of\nwhat kin we be come of, and what a man is Sir Launcelot du Lake,\nneither further nor nearer but brothers\u2019 children, and there was never\nnone of our kin that ever was shamed in battle, and rather suffer\ndeath, brother, than to be shamed. Brother, said Blamor, have ye no\ndoubt of me, for I shall never shame none of my blood, how be it I am\nsure that yonder knight is called a passing good knight, as of his time\none of the world, yet shall I never yield me, nor say the loth word:\nwell may he happen to smite me down with his great might of chivalry,\nbut rather shall he slay me than I shall yield me as recreant. God\nspeed you well, said Bleoberis, for ye shall find him the mightiest\nknight that ever ye had ado withall, for I know him, for I have had ado\nwith him. God me speed, said Blamor de Ganis. And therewith he took his\nhorse at the one end of the lists, and Sir Tristram at the other end of\nthe lists, and so they feutred their spears and came together as it had\nbeen thunder, and there Sir Tristram through great might smote down Sir\nBlamor and his horse to the earth. Then anon Sir Blamor avoided his\nhorse, and pulled out his sword and threw his shield afore him, and bad\nSir Tristram alight; for though an horse hath failed me, I trust the\nearth will not fail me. And then Sir Tristram alight and dressed him\nunto battle, and there they lashed together strongly as racing and\ntracing, foining and dashing many sad strokes, that the kings and\nknights had great wonder that they might stand, for ever they fought\nlike wood men, so that there were never knights seen fight more\nfiercely than they did, for Sir Blamor was so hasty that he would have\nno rest, that all men wondered that they had breath to stand on their\nfeet; and all the place was bloody that they fought in. And at the\nlast, Sir Tristram smote Sir Blamor such a buffet upon the helm that he\nthere fell down upon his side, and Sir Tristram stood and beheld him.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIII.\n\n_How Sir Blamor desired Tristram to slay him, and how Sir Tristram\n spared him, and how they took appointment._\n\nThen when Sir Blamor might speak, he said thus: Sir Tristram de Liones,\nI require thee, as thou art a noble knight, and the best knight that\never I found, that thou wilt slay me out, for I would not live to be\nmade lord of all the earth, for I had lever die with worship than live\nwith shame; and needs, Sir Tristram, thou must slay me, or else thou\nshalt never win the field, for I will never say the loth word. And\ntherefore if thou dare slay me, slay me I require thee. When Sir\nTristram heard him say so knightly, he wist not what to do with him; he\nremembering him of both parties; of what blood he was come, and for Sir\nLauncelot\u2019s sake he would be full loth to slay him, and in the other\nparty in no wise he might not choose but he must make him to say the\nloth word, or else to slay him. Then Sir Tristram start aback, and went\nto the kings that were judges, and there he kneeled down before them,\nand besought them for their worships, and for king Arthur\u2019s, and Sir\nLauncelot\u2019s sake, that they would take this matter in their hands. For\nmy fair lords, said Sir Tristram, it were shame and pity that this\nnoble knight that yonder lieth should be slain, for ye hear well shamed\nwill he not be, and I pray to God that he never be slain nor shamed for\nme. And as for the king for whom I fight for, I shall require him, as I\nam his true champion and true knight in this field, that he will have\nmercy upon this good knight. Truly, said king Anguish to Sir Tristram,\nI will for your sake be ruled as ye will have me. For I know you for my\ntrue knight. And therefore I will heartily pray the kings that be here\nas judges to take it in their hands. And the kings that were judges\ncalled Sir Bleoberis to them, and asked him his advice. My lords, said\nBleoberis, though my brother be beaten, and hath the worse through\nmight of arms, I dare say, though Sir Tristram hath beaten his body he\nhath not beaten his heart, and I thank God, he is not shamed this day.\nAnd rather than he should be shamed I require you, said Bleoberis, let\nSir Tristram slay him out. It shall not be so, said the kings, for his\npart adversary, both the king and the champion, have pity of Sir\nBlamor\u2019s knighthood. My lords, said Bleoberis, I will right well as ye\nwill.\n\nThen the kings called the king of Ireland, and found him good and\ntreatable. And then, by all their advices, Sir Tristram and Sir\nBleoberis took up Sir Blamor, and the two brethren were accorded with\nking Anguish, and kissed and made friends for ever. And then Sir Blamor\nand Sir Tristram kissed together, and there they made their oaths that\nthey would never none of them two brethren fight with Sir Tristram, and\nSir Tristram made the same oath. And for that gentle battle all the\nblood of Sir Launcelot loved Sir Tristram for ever.\n\nThen king Anguish and Sir Tristram took their leave, and sailed into\nIreland with great nobleness and joy. So when they were in Ireland the\nking let make it known throughout all the land, how and in what manner\nSir Tristram had done for him. Then the queen and all that there were\nmade the most of him that they might. But the joy that La Beale Isoud\nmade of Sir Tristram there might no tongue tell, for of men earthly she\nloved him most.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIV.\n\n_How Sir Tristram demanded La Beale Isoud for king Mark, and how Sir\n Tristram and Isoud drank the love drink._\n\nThen upon a day king Anguish asked Sir Tristram why he asked not his\nboon, for whatsoever he had promised him he should have it without\nfail. Sir, said Sir Tristram, now is it time, this is all that I will\ndesire, that ye will give me La Beale Isoud your daughter, not for\nmyself, but for mine uncle king Mark, that shall have her to wife, for\nso have I promised him. Alas, said the king, I had lever than all the\nland that I have ye would wed her yourself. Sir, and I did, then were I\nshamed for ever in this world, and false of my promise. Therefore, said\nSir Tristram, I pray you hold your promise that ye promised me, for\nthis is my desire, that ye will give me La Beale Isoud to go with me\ninto Cornwall, for to be wedded to king Mark mine uncle. As for that,\nsaid king Anguish, ye shall have her with you, to do with her what it\nplease you, that is for to say if that ye list to wed her yourself,\nthat is to me levest: and if ye will give her unto king Mark your\nuncle, that is in your choice.\n\nSo to make a short conclusion, La Beale Isoud was made ready to go with\nSir Tristram, and dame Bragwaine went with her for her chief\ngentlewoman, with many other. Then the queen, Isoud\u2019s mother, gave to\nher and dame Bragwaine, her daughter\u2019s gentlewoman, and unto\nGouvernail, a drink, and charged them that what day king Mark should\nwed, that same day they should give him that drink, so that king Mark\nshould drink to La Beale Isoud; and then, said the queen, I undertake\neither shall love other the days of their life. So this drink was given\nunto dame Bragwaine and unto Gouvernail. And then anon Sir Tristram\ntook the sea and La Beale Isoud; and when they were in their cabin, it\nhapped so that they were thirsty, and they saw a little flacket of gold\nstand by them, and it seemed by the colour and the taste that it was\nnoble wine. Then Sir Tristram took the flacket in his hand, and said,\nMadam Isoud, here is the best drink that ever ye drank, that dame\nBragwaine your maiden, and Gouvernail my servant, have kept for\nthemselves. Then they laughed and made good cheer, and either drank to\nother freely, and they thought never drink that ever they drank to\nother was so sweet nor so good. But by that their drink was in their\nbodies, they loved either other so well that never their love departed\nfor weal neither for woe. And thus it happed the love first betwixt Sir\nTristram and La Beale Isoud, the which love never departed the days of\ntheir life. So then they sailed till by fortune they came nigh a castle\nthat hight Pluere, and thereby arrived for to repose them, weening to\nthem to have had good harbourage. But anon as Sir Tristram was within\nthe castle they were taken prisoners, for the custom of the castle was\nsuch, who that rode by that castle, and brought any lady, he must needs\nfight with the lord, that hight Breunor. And if it were so that Breunor\nwan the field, then the knight stranger and his lady he put to death,\nwhat that ever they were; and if it were so that the strange knight wan\nthe field of Sir Breunor, then should he die and his lady both. This\ncustom was used many winters, for it was called the Castle Pluere, that\nis to say the weeping castle.\n\n\n CHAP. XXV.\n\n_How Sir Tristram and Isoud were in prison, and how he fought for her\n beauty, and smote off another lady\u2019s head._\n\nThus as Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud were in prison, it happed a\nknight and a lady came unto them where they were, to cheer them. I have\nmarvel, said Tristram unto the knight and the lady, what is the cause\nthe lord of this castle holdeth us in prison: it was never the custom\nof no place of worship that ever I came in, that when a knight and a\nlady asked harbour, and they to receive them, and after to destroy them\nthat be his guests. Sir, said the knight, this is the old custom of\nthis castle, that when a knight cometh here, he must needs fight with\nour lord, and he that is the weaker must lose his head. And when that\nis done, if his lady that he bringeth be fouler than our lord\u2019s wife,\nshe must lose her head: and if she be fairer proved than is our lady,\nthen shall the lady of this castle lose her head. Now, said Sir\nTristram, this is a foul custom and a shameful. But one advantage have\nI, said Sir Tristram, I have a lady is fair enough, fairer saw I never\nin all my life days, and I doubt not for lack of beauty she shall not\nlose her head, and rather than I should lose my head I will fight for\nit on a fair field. Wherefore, sir knight, I pray you tell your lord\nthat I will be ready as to-morn with my lady, and myself to battle, if\nit be so I may have my horse and mine armour. Sir, said that knight, I\nundertake that your desire shall be sped right well.\n\nAnd then he said, Take your rest, and look that ye be up by times to\nmake you ready and your lady, for ye shall want no thing that you\nbehoveth. And therewith he departed, and on the morn betimes that same\nknight came to Sir Tristram and fetched him out and his lady, and\nbrought him horse and armour that was his own, and bad him make him\nready to the field, for all the estates and commons of that lordship\nwere there ready to behold that battle and judgment. Then came Sir\nBreunor, the lord of that castle, with his lady in his hand muffled,\nand asked Sir Tristram where was his lady:\u2014For and thy lady be fairer\nthan mine, with thy sword smite off my lady\u2019s head, and if my lady be\nfairer than thine, with my sword I must strike off her head. And if I\nmay win thee, yet shall thy lady be mine, and thou shalt lose thy head.\nSir, said Tristram, this is a foul custom and horrible; and rather than\nmy lady should lose her head, yet had I lever lose my head. Nay, nay,\nsaid Sir Breunor, the ladies shall be first shewed together, and the\none shall have her judgment. Nay, I will not so, said Sir Tristram, for\nhere is none that will give righteous judgment. But I doubt not, said\nSir Tristram, my lady is fairer than thine, and that will I prove and\nmake good with my hand. And whosoever he be that will say the contrary\nI will prove it on his head. And therewith Sir Tristram shewed La Beale\nIsoud, and turned her thrice about with his naked sword in his hand.\nAnd when Sir Breunor saw that, he did the same wise turn his lady. But\nwhen Sir Breunor beheld La Beale Isoud, him thought he never saw a\nfairer lady, and then he dread his lady\u2019s head should be off. And so\nall the people that were there present gave judgment that La Beale\nIsoud was the fairer lady, and the better made. How now, said Sir\nTristram, me seemeth it were pity that my lady should lose her head,\nbut because that thou and she of long time have used this wicked\ncustom, and by you both there have many good knights and ladies been\ndestroyed, for that cause it were no loss to destroy you both. Truly,\nsaid Sir Breunor, for to say the sooth, thy lady is fairer than mine,\nand that me sore repenteth. And so I hear the people privily say; for\nof all women I saw none so fair, and therefore if thou wilt slay my\nlady, I doubt not but I shall slay thee and have thy lady. Thou shalt\nwin her, said Sir Tristram, as dear as ever knight won lady, and\nbecause of thine own judgment, as thou wouldest have done to my lady if\nthat she had been fouler, and because of the evil custom, give me thy\nlady, said Tristram. And therewithall Sir Tristram strode unto him and\ntook his lady from him, and with an awk stroke he smote off her head\nclean. Well knight, said Sir Breunor, now hast thou done me a despite.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVI.\n\n_How Sir Tristram fought with Sir Breunor, and at the last smote off\n his head._\n\nNow take thy horse: since I am ladyless I will win thy lady and I may.\nThen they took their horses and came together as it had been the\nthunder; and Sir Tristram smote Sir Breunor clean from his horse, and\nlightly he rose up; and as Sir Tristram came again by him he thrust his\nhorse throughout both the shoulders, that his horse hurled here and\nthere and fell dead to the ground. And ever Sir Breunor ran after to\nhave slain Sir Tristram, but Sir Tristram was light and nimble and\nvoided his horse lightly. And or ever Sir Tristram might dress his\nshield and his sword, the other gave him three or four sad strokes.\nThen they rushed together like two boars, tracing and traversing\nmightily and wisely as two noble knights. For this Sir Breunor was a\nproved knight, and had been, or then, the death of many good knights,\nthat it was pity that he had so long endured. Thus they fought, hurling\nhere and there nigh two hours, and either were wounded sore. Then at\nthe last Sir Breunor rushed upon Sir Tristram, and took him in his\narms, for he trusted much in his strength. Then was Sir Tristram called\nthe strongest and the highest knight of the world, for he was called\nbigger than Sir Launcelot, but Sir Launcelot was better breathed. So\nanon Sir Tristram thrust Sir Breunor down groveling, and then he\nunlaced his helm and strake off his head. And then all they that longed\nto the castle came to him and did him homage and fealty, praying him\nthat he would abide there still a little while to fordo that foul\ncustom. Sir Tristram granted thereto. The meanwhile one of the knights\nof the castle rode unto Sir Galahad, the haut prince, the which was Sir\nBreunor\u2019s son, which was a noble knight, and told him what misadventure\nhis father had and his mother.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVII.\n\n_How Sir Galahad fought with Sir Tristram, and how Sir Tristram yielded\n him and promised to fellowship with Launcelot._\n\nThen came Sir Galahad and the king with the hundred knights with him,\nand this Sir Galahad proffered to fight with Sir Tristram hand for\nhand. And so they made them ready to go unto battle on horseback with\ngreat courage. Then Sir Galahad and Sir Tristram met together so hard\nthat either bare other down, horse and all, to the earth. And then they\navoided their horses as noble knights, and dressed their shields and\ndrew their swords with ire and rancour, and they lashed together many\nsad strokes, and one while striking, another while foining, tracing and\ntraversing as noble knights, thus they fought long, near half a day,\nand either were sore wounded. At the last Sir Tristram waxed light and\nbig, and doubled his strokes, and drove Sir Galahad aback on the one\nside and on the other, so that he was like to have been slain. With\nthat came the king with the hundred knights, and all that fellowship\nwent fiercely upon Sir Tristram. When Sir Tristram saw them coming upon\nhim, then he wist well he might not endure. Then as a wise knight of\nwar, he said to Sir Galahad the haut prince, Sir, ye shew to me no\nknighthood, for to suffer all your men to have ado with me all at once,\nand as me seemeth ye be a noble knight of your hands, it is a great\nshame to you. Truly, said Sir Galahad, there is none other way but thou\nmust yield thee to me, other else to die, said Sir Galahad to Sir\nTristram. I will rather yield me to you than die, for that is more for\nthe might of your men than for the might of your hands. And therewith\nSir Tristram took his own sword by the point, and put the pommel in the\nhand of Sir Galahad. Therewithall came the king with the hundred\nknights, and hard began to assail Sir Tristram. Let be, said Sir\nGalahad, be ye not so hardy to touch him, for I have given this knight\nhis life. That is your shame, said the king with the hundred knights;\nhath he not slain your father and your mother? As for that, said Sir\nGalahad, I may not blame him greatly, for my father had him in prison,\nand enforced him to do battle with him, and my father had such a\ncustom, that was a shameful custom, that what knight came there to ask\nharbour, his lady must needs die but if she were fairer than my mother,\nand if my father overcame that knight he must needs die. This was a\nshameful custom and usage, a knight for his harbour asking to have such\nharbourage. And for this custom I would never draw about him. Truly,\nsaid the king, this was a shameful custom. Yea, said Sir Galahad, so\nseemed me, and me seemed it had been great pity that this knight should\nhave been slain, for I dare say he is the noblest man that beareth\nlife, but if it were Sir Launcelot du Lake. Now fair knight, said Sir\nGalahad, I require thee tell me thy name, and of whence thou art, and\nwhither thou wilt. Sir, he said, my name is Sir Tristram de Liones, and\nfrom king Mark of Cornwall I was sent on message unto king Anguish of\nIreland, for to fetch his daughter to be his wife, and here she is\nready to go with me into Cornwall, and her name is La Beale Isoud. And\nSir Tristram, said Sir Galahad the haut prince, well be ye found in\nthese marches, and so ye will promise me to go unto Sir Launcelot du\nLake and accompany with him, ye shall go where ye will, and your fair\nlady with you. And I shall promise you never in all my days shall such\ncustoms be used in this castle as have been used. Sir, said Sir\nTristram, now I let you wit I wend ye had been Sir Launcelot du Lake\nwhen I saw you first, and, therefore I dread you the more; and Sir, I\npromise you, said Sir Tristram, as soon as I may I will see Sir\nLauncelot and enfellowship me with him, for of all the knights of the\nworld I most desire his fellowship.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVIII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot met with Sir Carados bearing away Sir Gawaine, and\n of the rescue of Sir Gawaine._\n\nAnd then Sir Tristram took his leave when he saw his time, and took the\nsea. And in the mean while word came unto Sir Launcelot and to Sir\nTristram that Sir Carados the mighty king, that was made like a giant,\nhad fought with Sir Gawaine, and gave him such strokes that he swooned\nin his saddle, and after that he took him by the collar and pulled him\nout of his saddle, and fast bound him to the saddle bow, and so rode\nhis way with him towards his castle. And as he rode, by fortune Sir\nLauncelot met with Sir Carados, and anon he knew Sir Gawaine that lay\nbound after him. Ah, said Sir Launcelot unto Sir Gawaine, how stands it\nwith you? Never so hard, said Sir Gawaine, unless that ye help me, for\nwithout ye rescue me I know no knight that may, but either you or Sir\nTristram. Wherefore Sir Launcelot was heavy of Sir Gawaine\u2019s words. And\nthen Sir Launcelot bad Sir Carados, Lay down that knight, and fight\nwith me. Thou art but a fool, said Sir Carados, for I will serve you in\nthe same wise. As for that, said Sir Launcelot, spare me not, for I\nwarn thee I will not spare thee. And then he bound Sir Gawaine hand and\nfoot, and so threw him to the ground. And then he gat his spear of his\nSquire and departed from Sir Launcelot to fetch his course. And so\neither met with other, and brake their spears to their hands, and then\nthey pulled out swords and hurtled together on horseback more than an\nhour. And at the last Sir Launcelot smote Sir Carados such a buffet\nupon the helm that it perched his brain-pan. So then Sir Launcelot took\nSir Carados by the collar and pulled him under his horse feet, and then\nhe alight and pulled off his helm and strake off his head. And then Sir\nLauncelot unbound Sir Gawaine. So this same tale was told to Sir\nGalahad and to Sir Tristram:\u2014here may ye hear the nobleness that\nfolloweth Sir Launcelot. Alas, said Sir Tristram, and I had not this\nmessage in hand with this fair lady, truly I would never stint or I had\nfound Sir Launcelot. Then Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud went to the\nsea and came into Cornwall, and there all the barons met them.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIX.\n\n_Of the wedding of king Mark to La Beale Isoud, and of Bragwaine her\n maid, and of Palamides._\n\nAnd anon they were richly wedded with great nobley. But ever, as the\nFrench book saith, Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud loved ever together.\n\nThen was there great justs and great tourneying, and many lords and\nladies were at that feast, and Sir Tristram was most praised of all\nother. Thus dured the feast long, and after the feast was done, within\na little while after, by the assent of two ladies that were with queen\nIsoud, they ordained for hate and envy to destroy dame Bragwaine, that\nwas maiden and lady unto La Beale Isoud, and she was sent into the\nforest for to fetch herbs, and there she was met, and bound feet and\nhand to a tree, and so she was bounden three days. And by fortune Sir\nPalamides found dame Bragwaine and there he delivered her from the\ndeath, and brought her to a nunnery there beside to be recovered. When\nIsoud the queen missed her maiden wit ye well she was right heavy as\never was any queen, for of all earthly women she loved her best, the\ncause was for she came with her out of her country.\n\nAnd so upon a day the queen Isoud walked into the forest to put away\nher thoughts, and there she went herself unto a well and made great\nmoan. And suddenly there came Sir Palamides to her, and had heard all\nher complaint, and said, Madame Isoud, and if ye will grant me my boon\nI shall bring to you dame Bragwaine safe and sound. And the queen was\nso glad of his proffer that suddenly unadvised she granted all his\nasking. Well madam, said Sir Palamides, I trust to your promise, and if\nye will abide here half an hour I shall bring her to you. I shall abide\nyou, said La Beale Isoud. Then Sir Palamides rode forth his way to that\nnunnery, and lightly he came again with dame Bragwaine; but by her good\nwill she would not have come again, because for love of the queen she\nstood in adventure of her life. Notwithstanding, half against her will,\nshe went with Sir Palamides unto the queen. And when the queen saw her\nshe was passing glad. Now madam, said Palamides, remember upon your\npromise, for I have fulfilled my promise. Sir Palamides, said the\nqueen, I wot not what is your desire, but I will that ye wit howbeit I\npromised you largely I thought none evil, nor I warn you none ill will\nI do. Madam, said Sir Palamides, as at this time ye shall not know my\ndesire, but before my lord your husband there shall ye know that I will\nhave my desire that ye have promised me. And therewith the queen\ndeparted and rode home to the king, and Sir Palamides rode after her.\nAnd when Sir Palamides came before the king he said, Sir king, I\nrequire you as ye be a righteous king, that ye will judge me the right.\nTell me the cause, said the king, and ye shall have right.\n\n\n CHAP. XXX.\n\n_How Palamides demanded queen Isoud, and how Lambegus rode after to\n rescue her, and of the escape of Isoud._\n\nSir, said Palamides, I promised your queen Isoud to bring again dame\nBragwaine that she had lost, upon this covenant, that she should grant\nme a boon that I would ask, and without grudging other advisement she\ngranted me. What say ye, my lady? said the king. It is truly as he\nsaith, said the queen, to say the sooth I promised him his asking for\nlove and joy that I had to see her. Well madam, said the king, and if\nye were hasty to grant him what boon he would ask, I will well that ye\nperform your promise. Then said Sir Palamides, I will that ye wit that\nI will have your queen to lead her and govern her where as me list.\nTherewith the king stood still, and bethought him of Sir Tristram, and\ndeemed that he would rescue her. And then hastily the king answered,\nTake her with the adventures that shall fall of it, for Sir Palamides\nas I suppose thou wilt not keep her no while. As for that, said Sir\nPalamides, I dare right well abide the adventure. And so to make short\ntale, Sir Palamides took her by the hand and said, Madam, grudge not to\ngo with me, for I desire nothing but your own promise. As for that,\nsaid the queen, I fear not greatly to go with thee, howbeit thou hast\nme at advantage upon my promise. For I doubt not I shall be\nworshipfully rescued from thee. As for that, said Sir Palamides, be it\nas it be may. So queen Isoud was set behind Palamides, and rode his\nway. Anon the king sent after Sir Tristram, but in no wise he could be\nfound, for he was in the forest an hunting; for that was always his\ncustom, but if he used arms, to chase and to hunt in the forests. Alas,\nsaid the king, now I am shamed for ever, that by mine own assent my\nlady and my queen shall be devoured. Then came forth a knight, his name\nwas Lambegus, and he was a knight of Sir Tristram. My lord, said this\nknight, sith ye have trust in my lord Sir Tristram, wit ye well for his\nsake I will ride after your queen and rescue her, or else I shall be\nbeaten. Gramercy, said the king, and I live, Sir Lambegus, I shall\ndeserve it. And then Sir Lambegus armed him, and rode after as fast as\nhe might. And then within awhile he overtook Sir Palamides: and then\nSir Palamides left the queen. What art thou? said Sir Palamides, art\nthou Tristram? Nay, he said, I am his servant, and my name is Sir\nLambegus. That me repenteth, said Sir Palamides, I had lever thou hadst\nbeen Sir Tristram. I believe you well, said Sir Lambegus, but when thou\nmeetest with Sir Tristram thou shalt have thy hands full. And then they\nhurtled together and all to-brast their spears, and then they pulled\nout their swords and hewed on helms and hauberks. At the last Sir\nPalamides gave Sir Lambegus such a wound that he fell down like a dead\nknight to the earth. Then he looked after La Beale Isoud, and then she\nwas gone he nist where. Wit ye well Sir Palamides was never so heavy.\nSo the queen ran into the forest, and there she found a well, and\ntherein she had thought to have drowned herself. And as good fortune\nwould, there came a knight to her that had a castle thereby, his name\nwas Sir Adtherp. And when he found the queen in that mischief he\nrescued her, and brought her to his castle. And when he wist what she\nwas, he armed him and took his horse, and said he would be avenged upon\nPalamides, and so he rode till he met with him, and there Sir Palamides\nwounded him sore, and by force he made him to tell him the cause why he\ndid battle with him, and how he had led the queen unto his castle. Now\nbring me there, said Palamides, or thou shalt die of my hands. Sir,\nsaid Sir Adtherp, I am so wounded I may not follow, but ride you this\nway, and it shall bring you into my castle, and there within is the\nqueen. And then Sir Palamides rode still till he came to the castle,\nand at a window La Beale Isoud saw Sir Palamides, then she made the\ngates to be shut strongly. And when he saw he might not come within the\ncastle, he put off his bridle and his saddle, and put his horse to\npasture, and set himself down at the gate like a man that was out of\nhis wit that recked not of himself.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXI.\n\n_How Sir Tristram rode after Palamides, and how he found him and fought\n with him, and by the mean of Isoud the battle ceased._\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Tristram, that when he was come home and wist La\nBeale Isoud was gone with Sir Palamides, wit ye well he was wroth out\nof measure. Alas, said Sir Tristram, I am this day shamed. Then he\ncried to Gouvernail his man, Haste thee that I were armed and on\nhorseback, for well I wot Lambegus hath no might nor strength to\nwithstand Sir Palamides; alas, that I had not been in his stead. So\nanon as he was armed and horsed Sir Tristram and Gouvernail rode after\ninto the forest, and within a while he found his knight Lambegus almost\nwounded to the death, and Sir Tristram bare him to a forester, and\ncharged him to keep him well. And then he rode forth, and there he\nfound Sir Adtherp sore wounded, and he told him how the queen would\nhave drowned herself and he had not been, and how for her sake and love\nhe had taken upon him to do battle with Sir Palamides. Where is my\nlady? said Sir Tristram. Sir, said the knight, she is sure enough\nwithin my castle, and she can hold her within it. Gramercy, said Sir\nTristram, of thy great goodness. And so he rode till he came nigh to\nthat castle, and then Sir Tristram saw where Sir Palamides sat at the\ngate sleeping, and his horse pastured fast afore him. Now go thou\nGouvernail, said Sir Tristram, and bid him awake and make him ready. So\nGouvernail rode unto him and said, Sir Palamides, arise and take to\nthee thine harness. But he was in such a study that he heard not what\nGouvernail said. So Gouvernail came again and told Sir Tristram that he\nslept, or else he was mad. Go thou again, said Sir Tristram, and bid\nhim arise, and tell him that I am here his mortal foe. So Gouvernail\nrode again and put upon him the butt of his spear, and said, Sir\nPalamides make thee ready, for wit ye well Sir Tristram hoveth yonder,\nand sendeth thee word he is thy mortal foe. And therewithal Sir\nPalamides arose stilly without words, and gat his horse and saddled him\nand bridled him, and lightly he lept upon him, and gat his spear in his\nhand, and either feutred their spears, and hurtled fast together; and\nthere Sir Tristram smote down Sir Palamides over his horse tail. Then\nlightly Sir Palamides put his shield afore him and drew his sword, and\nthere began strong battle on both parties, for both they fought for the\nlove of one lady, and ever she lay on the walls and beheld them how\nthey fought out of measure, and either were wounded passing sore, but\nPalamides was much sorer wounded. Thus they fought tracing and\ntraversing more than two hours, that well nigh for dole and sorrow La\nBeale Isoud swooned. Alas, said she, that one I loved and yet do, and\nthe other I love not, yet it were great pity that I should see Sir\nPalamides slain, for well I know by that time the end be done Sir\nPalamides is but a dead knight, and because he is not christened I\nwould be loth that he should die a Saracen. And therewithal she came\ndown and besought Sir Tristram to fight no more. Ah madam, said he,\nwhat mean you? will ye have me shamed? Well ye know I will be ruled by\nyou. I will not your dishonour, said La Beale Isoud, but I would that\nye would for my sake spare this unhappy Saracen Palamides. Madam, said\nSir Tristram, I will leave fighting at this time for your sake.\n\nThen she said to Sir Palamides: This shall be your charge, that thou\nshalt go out of this country while I am therein. I will obey your\ncommandment, said Sir Palamides, the which is sore against my will.\nThen take thy way, said La Beale Isoud, unto the court of king Arthur,\nand there recommend me unto queen Guenever, and tell her that I send\nher word that there be within the land but four lovers, that is Sir\nLauncelot du Lake and queen Guenever, and Sir Tristram de Liones and\nqueen Isoud.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram brought queen Isoud home, and of the debate of king\n Mark and Sir Tristram._\n\nAnd so Sir Palamides departed with great heaviness. And Sir Tristram\ntook the queen and brought her again to king Mark, and then was there\nmade great joy of her home coming. Who was cherished but Sir Tristram!\nThen Sir Tristram let fetch Sir Lambegus his knight from the forester\u2019s\nhouse, and it was long or he was whole, but at the last he was well\nrecovered. Thus they lived with joy and play a long while. But ever Sir\nAndred, that was nigh cousin unto Sir Tristram, lay in a watch to wait\nbetwixt Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud, for to take them and slander\nthem. So upon a day Sir Tristram talked with La Beale Isoud in a\nwindow, and that espied Sir Andred, and told it to the king. Then king\nMark took a sword in his hand and came to Sir Tristram, and called him\nfalse traitor, and would have stricken him. But Sir Tristram was nigh\nhim, and ran under his sword, and took it out of his hand. And then the\nking cried, Where are my knights and my men? I charge you slay this\ntraitor. But at that time there was not one would move for his words.\nWhen Sir Tristram saw there was not one would be against him, he shook\nthe sword to the king, and made countenance as though he would have\nstricken him. And then king Mark fled, and Sir Tristram followed him,\nand smote upon him five or six strokes flatling on the neck that he\nmade him to fall upon the nose. And then Sir Tristram went his way and\narmed him, and took his horse and his man, and so he rode into that\nforest. And there upon a day Sir Tristram met with two brethren that\nwere knights with king Mark, and there he strake off the head of the\none, and wounded the other to the death, and he made him to bear his\nbrother\u2019s head in his helm unto the king, and thirty more there he\nwounded. And when that knight came before the king to say his message,\nhe there died afore the king and the queen. Then king Mark called his\ncouncil unto him and asked advice of his barons what was best to do\nwith Sir Tristram. Sir, said the barons, in especial Sir Dinas the\nseneschal, Sir, we will give you counsel for to send for Sir Tristram,\nfor we will that ye wit many men will hold with Sir Tristram and he\nwere hard bested. And sir, said Sir Dinas, ye shall understand that Sir\nTristram is called peerless and matchless of any christian knight, and\nof his might and his hardiness we knew none so good a knight, but if it\nbe Sir Launcelot du Lake. And if he depart from your court and go to\nking Arthur\u2019s court, wit ye well he will get him such friends there\nthat he will not set by your malice. And therefore, sir, I counsel you\nto take him to your grace. I will well, said the king, that he be sent\nfor, that we may be friends. Then the barons sent for Sir Tristram\nunder a safe conduct. And so when Sir Tristram came to the king, he was\nwelcome, and no rehearsal was made, and there was game and play. And\nthen the king and the queen went on hunting, and Sir Tristram.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXIII.\n\n_How Sir Lamorak justed with thirty knights, and Sir Tristram at\n request of king Mark smote his horse down._\n\nThe king and the queen made their pavilions and their tents in that\nforest beside a river, and there was daily hunting and justing, for\nthere were ever thirty knights ready to just unto all them that came in\nat that time. And there by fortune came Sir Lamorak de Galis and Sir\nDriant, and there Sir Driant justed right well, but at the last he had\na fall. Then Sir Lamorak proffered to just. And when he began he fared\nso with the thirty knights that there was not one of them but that he\ngave him a fall, and some of them were sore hurt. I marvel, said king\nMark, what knight he is that doth such deeds of arms. Sir, said Sir\nTristram, I know him for a noble knight as few now be living, and his\nname is Sir Lamorak de Galis. It were great shame, said the king, that\nhe should go thus away, unless that some of you met with him better.\nSir, said Sir Tristram, me seemeth it were no worship for a noble man\nfor to have ado with him; and for because at this time he hath done\novermuch for any mean knight living, therefore, as me seemeth, it were\ngreat shame and villainy to tempt him any more at this time, insomuch\nas he and his horse are weary both; for the deeds of arms that he hath\ndone this day, and they be well considered, were enough for Sir\nLauncelot du Lake.\n\nAs for that, said king Mark, I require you as ye love me and my lady\nthe queen La Beale Isoud, take your arms and just with Sir Lamorak de\nGalis. Sir, said Sir Tristram, ye bid me do a thing that is against\nknighthood, and well I can deem that I shall give him a fall, for it is\nno mastery, for my horse and I be fresh both, and so is not his horse\nand he; and wit ye well that he will take it for great unkindness, for\never one good is loth to take another at disadvantage. But because I\nwill not displease you, as ye require me so will I do, and obey your\ncommandment. And so Sir Tristram armed him anon and took his horse, and\nput him forth, and there Sir Lamorak met him mightily, and what with\nthe might of his own spear, and of Sir Tristram\u2019s spear, Sir Lamorak\u2019s\nhorse fell to the earth, and he sitting in the saddle. Then anon as\nlightly as he might he avoided the saddle and his horse, and put his\nshield afore him, and drew his sword. And then he bad Sir Tristram,\nAlight, thou knight, and thou darest. Nay, said Sir Tristram, I will no\nmore have ado with thee, for I have done to thee overmuch unto my\ndishonour, and to thy worship. As for that, said Sir Lamorak, I can\nthee no thank: since thou hast forjusted me on horseback, I require\nthee, and I beseech thee, and thou be Sir Tristram, fight with me on\nfoot. I will not so, said Sir Tristram; and wit ye well my name is Sir\nTristram de Liones, and well I know ye be Sir Lamorak de Galis, and\nthis that I have done to you was against my will, but I was required\nthereto; but to say that I will do at your request as at this time, I\nwill have no more ado with you, for me shameth of that I have done. As\nfor the shame, said Sir Lamorak, on thy part or on mine, bear thou it\nand thou wilt, for though a mare\u2019s son hath failed me, now a queen\u2019s\nson shall not fail thee; and therefore, and thou be such a knight as\nmen call thee, I require thee, alight, and fight with me. Sir Lamorak,\nsaid Sir Tristram, I understand your heart is great, and cause why ye\nhave, to say the sooth: for it would grieve me and any knight should\nkeep himself fresh and then to strike down a weary knight, for that\nknight nor horse was never formed that alway might stand or endure. And\ntherefore, said Sir Tristram, I will not have ado with you, for me\nforthinketh of that I have done. As for that, said Sir Lamorak, I shall\nquit you and ever I see my time.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXIV.\n\n_How Sir Lamorak sent an horn to king Mark in despite of Sir Tristram,\n and how Sir Tristram was driven into a chapel._\n\nSo he departed from him with Sir Driant, and by the way they met with a\nknight that was sent from Morgan le Fay unto king Arthur, and this\nknight had a fair horn harnessed with gold, and the horn had such a\nvirtue that there might no lady nor gentlewoman drink of that horn but\nif she were true to her husband, and if she were false she should spill\nall the drink, and if she were true to her lord she might drink\npeaceably. And because of queen Guenever, and in the despite of Sir\nLauncelot, this horn was sent unto king Arthur, and by force Sir\nLamorak made that knight to tell all the cause why he bare that horn.\nNow shalt thou bear this horn, said Lamorak unto king Mark, or else\nchoose thou to die for it. For I tell thee plainly, in despite and\nreproof of Sir Tristram thou shalt bear that horn unto king Mark his\nuncle, and say thou to him that I sent it him for to assay his lady,\nand if she be true to him he shall prove her. So the knight went his\nway unto king Mark, and brought him that rich horn, and said that Sir\nLamorak sent it him, and thereto he told him the virtue of that horn.\nThen the king made queen Isoud to drink thereof, and an hundred ladies,\nand there were but four ladies of all those that drank clean. Alas,\nsaid king Mark, this is a great despite; and sware a great oath that\nshe should be burnt, and the other ladies. Then the barons gathered\nthem together, and said plainly, they would not have those ladies burnt\nfor an horn made by sorcery, that came from as false a sorceress and\nwitch as then was living. For that horn did never good, but caused\nstrife and debate, and always in her days she had been an enemy to all\ntrue lovers. So there were many knights made their avow, if ever they\nmet with Morgan le Fay that they would shew her short courtesy. Also\nSir Tristram was passing wroth that Sir Lamorak sent that horn unto\nking Mark, for well he knew that it was done in the despite of him; and\ntherefore he thought to quit Sir Lamorak. Then, always, Sir Tristram\nused to go to queen Isoud when he might, and ever Sir Andred his cousin\nwatched him night and day, for to take him with La Beale Isoud. And so,\nupon a day, Sir Andred his cousin espied the hour and the time when Sir\nTristram went to his lady. And then Sir Andred gat unto him twelve\nknights, and he set upon Sir Tristram secretly and suddenly, and there\nSir Tristram was taken with La Beale Isoud, and then was he bound hand\nand foot, and so was he kept until the next day. And then by assent of\nking Mark, and of Sir Andred, and of some of the barons, Sir Tristram\nwas led unto a chapel which stood upon the sea rocks, there for to take\nhis judgment; and so he was led bound with forty knights. And when Sir\nTristram saw there was none other remedy but needs that he must die,\nthen said he, Fair lords, remember what I have done for the country of\nCornwall, and in what jeopardy I have been in for the weal of you all.\nFor when I fought for the truage of Cornwall with Sir Marhaus the good\nknight, I was promised for to be better rewarded, when ye all refused\nto take the battle; therefore, as ye be good gentle knights, see me not\nthus shamefully to die, for it is shame to all knighthood thus to see\nme die. For I dare well say, said Sir Tristram, that I never yet met\nwith no knight but I was as good as he, or better. Fie upon thee, said\nSir Andred, false traitor that thou art with thy vaunting, for all thy\nboast thou shalt die this day. O Andred, Andred, said Sir Tristram,\nthou shouldst be my kinsman, and now thou art to me full unfriendly,\nbut and there were no more but thou and I, thou wouldst not put me to\ndeath. No! said Sir Andred, and therewith he drew his sword and would\nhave slain him. When Sir Tristram saw him make such countenance, he\nlooked upon both his hands that were fast bound unto two knights, and\nsuddenly he pulled them both to him and unwrast his hands, and then he\nlept unto his cousin Andred and wrested his sword out of his hands,\nthen he smote Sir Andred that he fell to the earth, and so Sir Tristram\nfought till he had killed ten knights. So then Sir Tristram gat the\nchapel and kept it mightily. Then the cry was great, and the people\ndrew fast unto Sir Andred, more than an hundred. When Sir Tristram saw\nthe people draw unto him, he remembered that he was naked, and shut\nfast the chapel door, and brake the bars of a window, and so he lept\nout and fell upon the crags in the sea. And so at that time Sir Andred\nnor none of his fellows might get to him at that time.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXV.\n\n_How Sir Tristram was holpen by his men, and of queen Isoud which was\n put in a lazar-cote, and how Tristram was hurt._\n\nSo when they were departed, Gouvernail and Sir Lambegus, and Sir\nSentraille de Lushon, that were Sir Tristram\u2019s men, sought their\nmaster. When they heard he was escaped, then they were passing glad,\nand on the rocks they found him, and with towels they pulled him up.\nAnd then Sir Tristram asked them where La Beale Isoud was, for he wend\nshe had been had away of Andred\u2019s people. Sir, said Gouvernail, she is\nput in a lazar-cote. Alas, said Sir Tristram, this is a full ungoodly\nplace for such a fair lady; and if I may she shall not be long there.\nAnd so he took his men, and went there as was La Beale Isoud, and\nfetched her away, and brought her into a forest to a fair manor, and\nSir Tristram there abode with her. So the good knight bad his men go\nfrom him,\u2014For at this time I may not help you. So they departed all\nsave Gouvernail. And so upon a day Sir Tristram went into the forest\nfor to desport him, and then it happened that he fell there on sleep.\nAnd there came a man that Sir Tristram afore hand had slain his\nbrother; and when this man had found him he shot him through the\nshoulder with an arrow, and Sir Tristram lept up and killed that man.\nAnd in the mean while it was told king Mark how Sir Tristram and La\nBeale Isoud were in that same manor, and as soon as ever he might\nthither he came with many knights to slay Sir Tristram. And when he\ncame there he found him gone; and there he took La Beale Isoud home\nwith him, and kept her strait that by no means never she might wit nor\nsend unto Tristram, nor he unto her. And then when Sir Tristram came\ntoward the old manor, he found the track of many horses, and thereby he\nwist his lady was gone. And then Sir Tristram took great sorrow, and\nendured with great pain long time, for the arrow that he was hurt\nwithall was envenomed.\n\nThen by the means of La Beale Isoud she told a lady that was cousin\nunto dame Bragwaine, and she came to Sir Tristram, and told him that he\nmight not be whole by no means,\u2014For thy lady La Beale Isoud may not\nhelp thee; therefore she biddeth you haste into Britanny to king Howel,\nand there ye shall find his daughter Isoud la Blanche Mains, and she\nshall help thee. Then Sir Tristram and Gouvernail gat them shipping,\nand so sailed into Britanny. And when king Howel wist that it was Sir\nTristram he was full glad of him. Sir, he said, I am come into this\ncountry to have help of your daughter, for it is told me that there is\nnone other may heal me but she. And so within a while she healed him.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXVI.\n\n_How Sir Tristram served in war king Howel of Britanny and slew his\n adversary in the field._\n\nThere was an earl that hight Grip, and this earl made great war upon\nthe king, and put the king to the worse, and besieged him. And on a\ntime Sir Kehydius, that was son to king Howel, as he issued out he was\nsore wounded nigh to the death. Then Gouvernail went to the king and\nsaid, Sir, I counsel you to desire my lord, Sir Tristram, as in your\nneed to help you. I will do by your counsel, said the king. And so he\nwent unto Sir Tristram and prayed him in his wars for to help him, for\nmy son Sir Kehydius may not go into the field. Sir, said Sir Tristram,\nI will go to the field, and do what I may. Then Sir Tristram issued out\nof the town with such fellowship as he might make, and did such deeds\nthat all Britanny spake of him. And then at the last, by great might\nand force, he slew the earl Grip with his own hands, and more than an\nhundred knights he slew that day. And then Sir Tristram was received\nright worshipfully with procession. Then king Howel embraced him in his\narms and said, Sir Tristram, all my kingdom I will resign to thee. God\ndefend, said Sir Tristram, for I am beholden unto you for your\ndaughter\u2019s sake to do for you. Then by the great means of king Howel\nand Kehydius his son, by great proffers there grew great love betwixt\nIsoud and Sir Tristram, for that lady was both good and fair, and a\nwoman of noble blood and fame. And for because that Sir Tristram had\nsuch cheer and riches, and all other pleasance that he had, almost he\nhad forsaken La Beale Isoud. And so upon a time Sir Tristram agreed to\nwed Isoud la Blanche Mains. And at the last they were wedded, and\nsolemnly held their marriage.\n\nAnd in the mean while there was a knight in Britanny, his name was\nSuppinabiles, and he came over the sea into England, and then he came\nunto the court of king Arthur, and there he met with Sir Launcelot du\nLake, and told him of the marriage of Sir Tristram. Then said Sir\nLauncelot, Fie upon him, untrue knight to his lady; that so noble a\nknight as Sir Tristram is, should be found to his first lady false, La\nBeale Isoud, queen of Cornwall. But say ye him this, said Sir\nLauncelot, that of all knights in the world I loved him most, and had\nmost joy of him, and all was for his noble deeds; and let him wit the\nlove between him and me is done for ever, and that I give him warning\nfrom this day forth as his mortal enemy.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXVII.\n\n_How Sir Suppinabiles told Sir Tristram how he was defamed in the court\n of king Arthur, and of Sir Lamorak._\n\nThen departed Sir Suppinabiles unto Britanny again, and there he found\nSir Tristram, and told him that he had been in king Arthur\u2019s court.\nThen said Sir Tristram, Heard ye any thing of me? Truly, said Sir\nSuppinabiles, there I heard Sir Launcelot speak of you great shame, and\nthat ye be a false knight to your lady, and he bad me to do you to wit\nthat he will be your mortal enemy in every place where he may meet you.\nThat me repenteth, said Tristram, for of all knights I loved to be in\nhis fellowship. So Sir Tristram made great moan, and was ashamed that\nnoble knights should defame him for the sake of his lady. And in this\nmean while La Beale Isoud made a letter unto queen Guenever,\ncomplaining her of the untruth of Sir Tristram, and how he had wedded\nthe king\u2019s daughter of Britanny. Queen Guenever sent her another\nletter, and bad her be of good cheer, for she should have joy after\nsorrow, for Sir Tristram was so noble a knight called, that by crafts\nof sorcery ladies would make such noble men to wed them, but in the\nend, queen Guenever said, it shall be thus, that he shall hate her, and\nlove you better than ever he did tofore.\n\nSo leave we Sir Tristram in Britanny, and speak we of Sir Lamorak de\nGalis, that as he sailed his ship fell on a rock and perished all, save\nSir Lamorak and his squire, and there he swam mightily, and fishers of\nthe Isle of Servage took him up, and his squire was drowned, and the\nshipmen had great labour to save Sir Lamorak\u2019s life for all the comfort\nthat they could do. And the lord of that isle hight Sir Nabon le Noire,\na great mighty giant. And this Sir Nabon hateth all the knights of king\nArthur, and in no wise he would do them favor. And these fishers told\nSir Lamorak all the guise of Sir Nabon, how there came never knight of\nking Arthur\u2019s but he destroyed him. And at the last battle that he did\nwas slain Sir Nanowne le Petite, the which he put to a shameful death\nin despite of king Arthur, for he was drawn limb-meal. That forthinketh\nme, said Sir Lamorak, for that knight\u2019s death, for he was my cousin.\nAnd if I were at mine ease as well as ever I was, I would revenge his\ndeath. Peace, said the fishers, and make here no words, for, or ye\ndepart from hence, Sir Nabon must know that ye have been here, or else\nwe should die for your sake. So that I be whole, said Lamorak, of my\ndisease that I have taken in the sea, I will that ye tell him that I am\na knight of king Arthur\u2019s, for I was never afeard to deny my lord.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXVIII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram and his wife arrived in Wales, and how he met there\n with Sir Lamorak._\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Tristram, that upon a day he took a little barge,\nand his wife Isoud la Blanch Mains, with Sir Kehydius her brother, to\nplay them in the coasts. And when they were from the land, there was a\nwind drove them into the coast of Wales upon this Isle of Servage,\nwhere as was Sir Lamorak, and there the barge all to-rove, and there\ndame Isoud was hurt, and as well as they might they gat into the\nforest, and there by a well he saw Segwarides and a damsel. And then\neither saluted other. Sir, said Segwarides, I know you for Sir Tristram\nde Liones, the man in the world that I have the most cause to hate,\nbecause ye departed the love between me and my wife; but as for that,\nsaid Segwarides, I will never hate a noble knight for a light lady, and\ntherefore I pray you be my friend, and I will be yours unto my power,\nfor wit ye well ye are hard bested in this valley, and we shall have\nenough to do either of us to succour other. And then Sir Segwarides\nbrought Sir Tristram unto a lady thereby that was born in Cornwall, and\nshe told him all the perils of that valley, and how there came never\nknight there but he were taken prisoner or slain. Wit you well fair\nlady, said Sir Tristram, that I slew Sir Marhaus, and delivered\nCornwall from the truage of Ireland, and I am he that delivered the\nking of Ireland from Sir Blamor de Ganis, and I am he that beat Sir\nPalamides, and wit ye well, I am Sir Tristram de Liones, that by the\ngrace of God shall deliver this woful Isle of Servage. So Sir Tristram\nwas well eased; then one told him there was a knight of king Arthur\u2019s\nthat was wrecked on the rocks. What is his name? said Sir Tristram. We\nwot not, said the fishers, but he keepeth it no counsel but that he is\na knight of king Arthur\u2019s, and by the mighty lord of this isle he\nsetteth nought by. I pray you, said Sir Tristram, and ye may bring him\nhither that I may see him; and if he be any of the knights of Arthur\u2019s\nI shall know him. Then the lady prayed the fishers to bring him to her\nplace. So, on the morrow they brought him thither in a fisher\u2019s\nraiment. And as soon as Sir Tristram saw him he smiled upon him and\nknew him well, but he knew not Sir Tristram. Fair knight, said Sir\nTristram, me seemeth by your cheer ye have been diseased but late, and\nalso me thinketh I should know you heretofore. I will well, said Sir\nLamorak, that ye have seen me and met with me. Fair sir, said Sir\nTristram, tell me your name. Upon a covenant I will tell you, said Sir\nLamorak, that is, that ye will tell me whether ye be lord of this\nisland or no, that is called Nabon le Noire. For sooth, said Sir\nTristram, I am not he, nor I hold not of him, I am his foe as well ye\nbe, and so shall I be found or I depart out of this isle. Well, said\nSir Lamorak, since ye have said so largely unto me, my name is Sir\nLamorak de Galis, son unto king Pellinore. For sooth, I trow well, said\nSir Tristram, for, and ye said other, I know the contrary. What are ye,\nsaid Sir Lamorak, that knoweth me? I am Sir Tristram de Liones. Ah,\nsir, remember ye not of the fall ye did give me once, and after ye\nrefused me to fight on foot. That was not for fear I had of you, said\nSir Tristram, but me shamed at that time to have more ado with you, for\nme seemed ye had enough; but, Sir Lamorak, for my kindness many ladies\nye put to a reproof, when ye sent the horn from Morgan le Fay to king\nMark, where as ye did this in despite of me. Well, said he, and it were\nto do again, so would I do, for I had lever strife and debate fell in\nking Mark\u2019s court rather than Arthur\u2019s court, for the honour of both\ncourts be not alike. As to that, said Sir Tristram, I know well. But\nthat that was done, it was for despite of me, but all your malice hurt\nnot greatly. Therefore, said Sir Tristram, ye shall leave all your\nmalice and so will I, and let us assay how we may win worship between\nyou and me upon this giant Sir Nabon le Noire, that is lord of this\nisland, to destroy him. Sir, said Sir Lamorak, now I understand your\nknighthood, it may not be false that all men say, for of your bounty,\nnobless, and worship, of all knights ye are peerless; and for courtesy\nand gentleness I shewed you ungentleness, and that now me repenteth.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXIX.\n\n_How Sir Tristram fought with Sir Nabon and overcame him, and made Sir\n Lamorak lord of the isle._\n\nIn the mean time came word that Sir Nabon had made a cry that all the\npeople of that isle should be at his castle the fifth day after. And\nthe same day the son of Nabon should be made knight, and all the\nknights of that valley and thereabout should be there to just, and all\nthose of the realm of Logris should be there to just with them of North\nWales; and thither came five hundred knights, and they of the country\nbrought there Sir Lamorak, and Sir Tristram, and Sir Kehydius, and Sir\nSegwarides, for they durst none otherwise do. And then Sir Nabon lent\nSir Lamorak horse and armour at Sir Lamorak\u2019s desire, and Sir Lamorak\njusted and did such deeds of arms that Nabon and all the people said\nthere was never knight that ever they saw do such deeds of arms. For,\nas the French book saith, he forjusted all that were there, for the\nmost part of five hundred knights, that none abode him in his saddle.\nThen Sir Nabon proffered to play with him his play:\u2014For I saw never no\nknight do so much upon a day. I will well, said Sir Lamorak, play as I\nmay, but I am weary and sore bruised: and there either gat a spear, but\nNabon would not encounter with Sir Lamorak, but smote his horse in the\nforehead and so slew him, and then Sir Lamorak went on foot and turned\nhis shield and drew his sword, and there began strong battle on foot.\nBut Sir Lamorak was so sore bruised and short breathed, that he traced\nand traversed somewhat aback. Fair fellow, said Sir Nabon, hold thy\nhand, and I shall shew thee more courtesy than ever I shewed knight,\nbecause I have seen this day thy noble knighthood. And therefore stand\nthou by, and I will wit whether any of thy fellows will have ado with\nme. Then when Sir Tristram heard that, he stept forth and said, Nabon,\nlend me horse and sure armour, and I will have ado with thee. Well\nfellow, said Sir Nabon, go thou to yonder pavilion, and arm thee of the\nbest thou findest there, and I shall play a marvellous play with thee.\nThen, said Sir Tristram, look ye play well, or else peradventure I\nshall learn you a new play. That is well said, fellow, said Sir Nabon.\nSo when Sir Tristram was armed as him liked best, and well shielded and\nsworded, he dressed to him on foot, for well he knew that Sir Nabon\nwould not abide a stroke with a spear, therefore he would slay all\nknights\u2019 horses. Now fair fellow, said Sir Nabon, let us play. So then\nthey fought long on foot, tracing and traversing, smiting and foining\nlong without any rest. At the last Sir Nabon prayed him to tell him his\nname. Sir Nabon, I tell thee my name is Sir Tristram de Liones, a\nknight of Cornwall under king Mark. Thou art welcome, said Sir Nabon,\nfor of all knights I have most desired to fight with thee or with Sir\nLauncelot. So then they went eagerly together, and Sir Tristram slew\nSir Nabon, and so forthwith he lept to his son and strake off his head.\nAnd then all the country said they would hold of Sir Tristram. Nay,\nsaid Sir Tristram, I will not so: here is a worshipful knight Sir\nLamorak de Galis that for me he shall be lord of this country, for he\nhath done here great deeds of arms. Nay, said Sir Lamorak, I will not\nbe lord of this country, for I have not deserved it as well as ye,\ntherefore give ye it where ye will, for I will none have. Well, said\nSir Tristram, since ye nor I will not have it, let us give it to him\nthat hath not so well deserved it. Do as ye list, said Sir Lamorak, for\nthe gift is yours, for I will none have and I had deserved it. So it\nwas given to Segwarides, wherefore he thanked him, and so was he lord,\nand worshipfully he did govern it. And then Sir Segwarides delivered\nall prisoners, and set good governance in that valley; and so he\nreturned into Cornwall, and told king Mark and La Beale Isoud how Sir\nTristram had advanced him to the Isle of Servage, and there he\nproclaimed in all Cornwall of all the adventures of these two knights,\nso was it openly known. But full woe was La Beale Isoud when she heard\ntell that Sir Tristram was wedded to Isoud La Blanche Mains.\n\n\n CHAP. XL.\n\n_How Sir Lamorak departed from Sir Tristram, and how he met with Sir\n Frol, and after with Sir Launcelot._\n\nSo turn we unto Sir Lamorak, that rode toward Arthur\u2019s court; and Sir\nTristram and his wife and Kehydius took a vessel and sailed into\nBritanny unto king Howel, where he was welcome. And when he heard of\nthese adventures they marvelled of his noble deeds. Now turn we unto\nSir Lamorak, that when he was departed from Sir Tristram, he rode out\nof the forest till he came to an hermitage. When the hermit saw him he\nasked him from whence he came. Sir, said Sir Lamorak, I come from this\nvalley. Sir, said the hermit, thereof I greatly marvel, for this twenty\nwinter I saw never no knight pass this country but he was either slain\nor villainously wounded, or passed as a poor prisoner. Those ill\ncustoms, said Sir Lamorak, are fordone; for Sir Tristram slew your lord\nSir Nabon, and his son. Then was the hermit glad, and all his brethren,\nfor he said there was never such a tyrant among Christian men,\u2014and\ntherefore, said the hermit, this valley and franchise we will hold of\nSir Tristram. So on the morrow Sir Lamorak departed. And as he rode he\nsaw four knights fight against one, and that one knight defended him\nwell, but at the last the four knights had him down. And then Sir\nLamorak went betwixt them, and asked them why they would slay that one\nknight, and said it was shame four against one. Thou shalt well wit,\nsaid the four knights, that he is false. That is your tale, said Sir\nLamorak, and when I hear him also speak I will say as ye say. Then said\nLamorak, Ah knight, can ye not excuse you but that ye are a false\nknight? Sir, said he, yet can I excuse me both with my words and with\nmy hands, that I will make good upon one of the best of them, my body\nto his body. Then spake they all at once: We will not jeopard our\nbodies as for thee; but wit thou well, they said, and king Arthur were\nhere himself, it should not lie in his power to save his life. That is\ntoo much said, said Sir Lamorak, but many speak behind a man more than\nthey will say to his face. And because of your words, ye shall\nunderstand that I am one of the simplest of king Arthur\u2019s court: in the\nworship of my lord now do your best, and in despite of you I shall\nrescue him. And then they lashed all at once to Sir Lamorak; but anon\nat two strokes Sir Lamorak had slain two of them, and then the other\ntwo fled. So then Sir Lamorak turned again to that knight and asked him\nhis name. Sir, he said, my name is Sir Frol of the Out Isles. Then he\nrode with Sir Lamorak and bare him company; and as they rode by the way\nthey saw a seemly knight riding against them, and all in white. Ah,\nsaid Frol, yonder knight justed late with me, and smote me down,\ntherefore I will just with him. Ye shall not do so, said Sir Lamorak,\nby my counsel, and ye will tell me your quarrel, whether ye justed at\nhis request, or he at yours. Nay, said Sir Frol, I justed with him at\nmy request. Sir, said Lamorak, then will I counsel you deal no more\nwith him, for me seemeth by his countenance he should be a noble knight\nand no jester, for me thinketh he should be of the Table Round.\nTherefore I will not spare, said Sir Frol; and then he cried and said,\nSir knight, make thee ready to just. That needeth not, said the knight,\nfor I have no lust to just with thee. But yet they feutred their\nspears, and the white knight overthrew Sir Frol, and then he rode his\nway a soft pace. Then Sir Lamorak rode after him, and prayed him to\ntell him his name, For me seemeth ye should be of the fellowship of the\nRound Table. Upon a covenant, said he, I will tell you my name, so that\nye will not discover my name, and also that ye will tell me yours.\nThen, said he, my name is Sir Lamorak de Galis. And my name is Sir\nLauncelot du Lake. Then they put up their swords, and kissed heartily\ntogether, and either made great joy of other. Sir, said Sir Lamorak,\nand it please you I will do you service. God defend, said Sir\nLauncelot, that any of so noble blood as ye be should do me service.\nThen he said more, I am in a quest that I must do myself alone. Now God\nspeed you, said Sir Lamorak, and so they departed. Then Sir Lamorak\ncame to Sir Frol and horsed him again. What knight is that? said Sir\nFrol. Sir, said he, it is not for you to know, nor it is no point of my\ncharge. Ye are the more uncourteous, said Sir Frol, and therefore I\nwill depart from you. Ye may do as ye list, said Sir Lamorak, and yet\nby my company you have saved the fairest flower of your garland. So\nthey departed.\n\n\n CHAP. XLI.\n\n_How Sir Lamorak slew Sir Frol, and of the courteous fighting with Sir\n Belliance his brother._\n\nThen within two or three days Sir Lamorak found a knight at a well\nsleeping, and his lady sat with him and waked. Right so came Sir\nGawaine and took the knight\u2019s lady, and set her up behind his squire.\nSo Sir Lamorak rode after Sir Gawaine, and said, Sir Gawaine, turn\nagain. And then said Sir Gawaine, What will ye do with me? for I am\nnephew to king Arthur. Sir, said he, for that cause I will spare you,\nelse that lady should abide with me, or else ye should just with me.\nThen Sir Gawaine turned him and ran to him that owned the lady with his\nspear. But the knight with pure might smote down Sir Gawaine, and took\nhis lady with him. All this Sir Lamorak saw, and said to himself, But I\nrevenge my fellow, he will say of me dishonour in king Arthur\u2019s court.\nThen Sir Lamorak returned and proffered that knight to just. Sir, said\nhe, I am ready. And so they came together with all their might, and\nthere Sir Lamorak smote the knight through both sides, that he fell to\nthe earth dead. Then the lady rode to that knight\u2019s brother that hight\nSir Belliance le Orgulous, that dwelled fast thereby, and then she told\nhim how his brother was slain. Alas, said he, I will be revenged. And\nso horsed him and armed him, and within a while he overtook Sir\nLamorak, and bad him, Turn, and leave that lady, for thou and I must\nplay a new play, for thou hast slain my brother Sir Frol, that was a\nbetter knight than ever were thou. It might well be, said Sir Lamorak,\nbut this day in the field I was found the better. So they rode\ntogether, and unhorsed other, and turned their shields and drew their\nswords, and fought mightily as noble knights proved by the space of two\nhours. So then Sir Belliance prayed him to tell his name. Sir, said he,\nmy name is Sir Lamorak de Galis. Ah, said Sir Belliance, thou art the\nman in the world that I most hate, for I slew my sons for thy sake,\nwhere I saved thy life, and now thou hast slain my brother Sir Frol.\nAlas, how should I be accorded with thee? therefore defend thee, for\nthou shalt die: there is none other remedy. Alas, said Sir Lamorak,\nfull well me ought to know you, for ye are the man that most have done\nfor me. And therewithal Sir Lamorak kneeled down and besought him of\ngrace. Arise, said Sir Belliance, or else there as thou kneelest I\nshall slay thee. That shall not need, said Sir Lamorak, for I will\nyield me unto you, not for fear of you, nor for your strength, but your\ngoodness maketh me full loth to have ado with you; wherefore I require\nyou, for God\u2019s sake, and for the honour of knighthood, forgive me all\nthat I have offended unto you. Alas, said Belliance, leave thy\nkneeling, or else I shall slay thee without mercy. Then they went again\nunto battle, and either wounded other, that all the ground was bloody\nthere as they fought. And at the last Belliance withdrew him aback and\nset him down softly upon a little hill, for he was so faint for\nbleeding that he might not stand. Then Sir Lamorak threw his shield\nupon his back, and asked him, What cheer? Well, said Sir Belliance. Ah\nsir, yet shall I shew you favour in your mal-ease. Ah knight, Sir\nBelliance said, Sir Lamorak thou art a fool, for and I had thee at such\nadvantage as thou hast done me I should slay thee, but thy gentleness\nis so good and large that I must needs forgive thee mine evil will. And\nthen Sir Lamorak kneeled down and unlaced first his umberere, and then\nhis own. And then either kissed other with weeping tears. Then Sir\nLamorak led Sir Belliance to an abbey fast by, and there Sir Lamorak\nwould not depart from Belliance till he was whole. And then they swore\ntogether that none of them should never fight against other. So Sir\nLamorak departed and went to the court of king Arthur.\n\nHere leue we of sire Lamorak and of sir Tristram. And here begynneth the\n historye of La cote male tayle.\n\n\n\n\n The Ninth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How a young man came into the court of king Arthur, and how Sir Kay\n called him in scorn La Cote Male Taile._\n\nAt the court of king Arthur there came a young man and bigly made, and\nhe was richly beseen, and he desired to be made knight of the king, but\nhis over garment sat overthwartly, howbeit it was rich cloth of gold.\nWhat is your name? said king Arthur. Sir, said he, my name is Breunor\nle Noire, and within short space ye shall know that I am of good kin.\nIt may well be, said Sir Kay the seneschal, but in mockage ye shall be\ncalled La Cote Male Taile, that is as much as to say, the evil-shapen\ncoat. It is a great thing that thou askest, said the king; and for what\ncause wearest thou that rich coat? tell me; for I can well think for\nsome cause it is. Sir, said he, I had a father a noble knight, and as\nhe rode on hunting, upon a day it happed him to lay him down to sleep.\nAnd there came a knight that had been long his enemy. And when he saw\nhe was fast on sleep, he all to-hewed him; and this same coat had my\nfather on the same time, and that maketh this coat to sit so evil upon\nme, for the strokes be on it as I found it, and never shall be amended\nfor me. Thus to have my father\u2019s death in remembrance I wear this coat\ntill I be revenged; and because ye are called the most noblest king in\nthe world I come to you that ye should make me knight. Sir, said Sir\nLamorak and Sir Gaheris, it were well done to make him knight, for him\nbeseemeth well of person and of countenance, that he shall prove a good\nman, and a good knight and a mighty; for Sir, and ye be remembered,\neven such one was Sir Launcelot du Lake when he came first into this\ncourt, and full few of us knew from whence he came, and now he is\nproved the most man of worship in the world, and all your court and all\nyour Round Table is by Sir Launcelot worshipped and amended more than\nby any knight now living. That is truth, said the king, and to-morrow\nat your request I shall make him knight. So on the morrow there was an\nhart found, and thither rode king Arthur with a company of his knights\nto slay the hart. And this young man that Sir Kay named La Cote Male\nTaile was there left behind with queen Guenever, and by sudden\nadventure there was an horrible lion kept in a strong tower of stone,\nand it happened that he at that time brake loose, and came hurling\nafore the queen and her knights. And when the queen saw the lion, she\ncried, and fled, and prayed her knights to rescue her. And there was\nnone of them all but twelve that abode, and all the other fled. Then\nsaid La Cote Male Taile, Now I see well that all coward knights be not\ndead: and therewithal he drew his sword and dressed him afore the lion.\nAnd that lion gaped wide, and came upon him ramping to have slain him.\nAnd he then smote him in the midst of the head such a mighty stroke\nthat it clave his head in sunder, and dashed to the earth. Then was it\ntold the queen how that the young man that Sir Kay named by scorn La\nCote Male Taile had slain the lion. With that the king came home. And\nwhen the queen told him of that adventure he was well pleased, and\nsaid, Upon pain of mine head he shall prove a noble man, and a faithful\nknight, and true of his promise. Then the king forthwithal made him\nknight. Now Sir, said this young knight, I require you and all the\nknights of your court, that ye call me by none other name but La Cote\nMale Taile; insomuch as Sir Kay so hath named me, so will I be called.\nI assent me well thereto, said the king.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How a damsel came unto the court and desired a knight to take on him\n an inquest, which La Cote Male Taile emprized._\n\nThen that same day there came a damsel into the king\u2019s court, and she\nbrought with her a great black shield, with a white hand in the midst\nholding a sword. Other picture was there none in that shield. When king\nArthur saw her, he asked her from whence she came, and what she would.\nSir, she said, I have ridden long and many a day with this shield many\nways, and for this cause I am come to your court:\u2014There was a good\nknight that owned this shield, and this knight had undertaken a great\ndeed of arms to achieve it, and so it misfortuned him another strong\nknight met with him by sudden adventure, and there they fought long,\nand either wounded other passing sore, and they were so weary that they\nleft that battle even hand. So this knight that owned this shield saw\nnone other way but he must die; and then he commanded me to bear this\nshield to the court of king Arthur, he requiring and praying some good\nknight to take this shield, and that he would fulfil the quest that he\nwas in. Now what say ye to this quest? said king Arthur. Is there any\nof you here that will take upon him to weld this shield? Then was there\nnot one that would speak one word. Then Sir Kay took the shield in his\nhands. Sir knight, said the damsel, what is your name? Wit ye well,\nsaid he, my name is Sir Kay the seneschal, that widewhere is known.\nSir, said that damsel, lay down that shield, for wit ye well it falleth\nnot for you, for he must be a better knight than ye that shall weld\nthis shield. Damsel, said Sir Kay, wit ye well I took this shield in my\nhands by your leave for to behold it, not to that intent, but go\nwheresoever thou wilt, for I will not go with you. Then the damsel\nstood still a great while, and beheld many of those knights. Then spake\nthe knight La Cote Male Taile, Fair damsel, I will take the shield and\nthat adventure upon me, so I wist I should know whither ward my journey\nmight be, for because I was this day made knight I would take this\nadventure upon me. What is your name, fair young man? said the damsel.\nMy name is, said he, La Cote Male Taile. Well mayest thou be called so,\nsaid the damsel, the knight with the evil-shapen coat, but and thou be\nso hardy to take upon thee to bear that shield and to follow me, wit\nthou well thy skin shall be as well hewn as thy coat. As for that, said\nLa Cote Male Taile, when I am so hewn I will ask you no salve to heal\nme withal. And forthwithal there came into the court two squires, and\nbrought him great horses and his armour and his spears, and anon he was\narmed, and took his leave. I would not by my will, said the king, that\nye took upon you that hard adventure. Sir, said he, this adventure is\nmine, and the first that ever I took upon me, and that will I follow\nwhatsoever come of me. Then that damsel departed, and La Cote Male\nTaile followed first after. And within a while he overtook the damsel.\nAnd anon she missaid him in the foullest manner.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How La Cote Male Taile overthrew Sir Dagonet the king\u2019s fool, and of\n the rebuke that he had of the damsel._\n\nThen Sir Kay ordained Sir Dagonet, king Arthur\u2019s fool, to follow after\nLa Cote Male Taile, and there Sir Kay ordained that Sir Dagonet was\nhorsed and armed, and bad him follow La Cote Male Taile and proffer him\nto just, and so he did, and when he saw La Cote Male Taile he cried and\nbad him make him ready to just. So Sir La Cote Male Taile smote Sir\nDagonet over his horse croup. Then the damsel mocked La Cote Male\nTaile, and said, Fie for shame, now art thou shamed in Arthur\u2019s court\nwhen they send a fool to have ado with thee, and specially at thy first\njusts. Thus she rode long and chid. And within a while there came Sir\nBleoberis the good knight, and there he justed with La Cote Male Taile,\nand there Sir Bleoberis smote him so sore that horse and all fell to\nthe earth. Then La Cote Male Taile arose up lightly and dressed his\nshield and drew his sword, and would have done battle to the utterance,\nfor he was wood wroth. Not so, said Bleoberis de Ganis, as at this time\nI will not fight upon foot. Then the damsel Maledisant rebuked him in\nthe foullest manner, and bad him, turn again coward. Ah damsel, he\nsaid, I pray you of mercy to missay me no more, my grief is enough\nthough ye give me no more. I call myself never the worse knight when a\nmare\u2019s son faileth me, and also I count me never the worse knight for a\nfall of Sir Bleoberis. So thus he rode with her two days, and by\nfortune there came Sir Palamides and encountered with him, and he in\nthe same wise served him as did Bleoberis toforehand. What dost thou\nhere in my fellowship, said the damsel Maledisant, thou canst not sit\nno knight nor withstand him one buffet, but if it were Sir Dagonet. Ah\nfair damsel, I am not the worse to take a fall of Sir Palamides, and\nyet great disworship have I none, for neither Bleoberis nor yet\nPalamides would not fight with me on foot. As for that, said the\ndamsel, wit thou well they have disdain and scorn to light off their\nhorses to fight with such a mean knight as thou art. So in the\nmeanwhile there came Sir Mordred, Sir Gawaine\u2019s brother, and so he fell\nin the fellowship with the damsel Maledisant. And then they came afore\nthe castle Orgulous, and there was such a custom that there might no\nknight come by that castle but either he must just or be prisoner, or\nat the least to lose his horse and his harness. And there came out two\nknights against them, and Sir Mordred justed with the foremost, and\nthat knight of the castle smote Sir Mordred down off his horse. And\nthen anon La Cote Male Taile justed with that other, and either of them\nsmote other down, horse and all to the earth. And when they avoided\ntheir horses, then either of them took other\u2019s horses. And then La Cote\nMale Taile rode into that knight that smote down Sir Mordred, and\njusted with him; and there Sir La Cote Male Taile hurt and wounded him\npassing sore, and put him from his horse as he had been dead. So he\nturned unto him that met him afore, and he took the flight toward the\ncastle, and Sir La Cote Male Taile rode after him into the castle\nOrgulous, and there La Cote Male Taile slew him.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How La Cote Male Taile fought against an hundred knights, and how he\n escaped by the mean of a lady._\n\nAnd anon there came an hundred knights about him and assailed him; and\nwhen he saw his horse should be slain he alight and voided his horse,\nand put the bridle under his feet, and so put him out of the gate. And\nwhen he had so done, he hurled in among them, and dressed his back unto\na lady\u2019s chamber-wall, thinking himself that he had lever die there\nwith worship than to abide the rebukes of the damsel Maledisant. And in\nthe mean time as he stood and fought, that lady whose was the chamber,\nwent out slily at her postern, and without the gates she found La Cote\nMale Taile\u2019s horse, and lightly she gat him by the bridle and tied him\nto the postern. And then she went unto her chamber slily again for to\nbehold how that one knight fought against an hundred knights. And so\nwhen she had beheld him long, she went to a window behind his back and\nsaid, Thou knight thou fightest wonderly well, but for all that at the\nlast thou must needs die, but and thou canst through thy mighty prowess\nwin unto yonder postern, for there have I fastened thy horse to abide\nthee; but wit thou well thou must think on thy worship and think not to\ndie, for thou mayest not win unto that postern without thou do nobly\nand mightily. When La Cote Male Taile heard her say so, he griped his\nsword in his hands, and put his shield fair afore him, and through the\nthickest press he thrulled through them. And when he came to the\npostern he found there ready four knights, and at two the first strokes\nhe slew two of the knights, and the other fled, and so he won his horse\nand rode from them. And all as it was, it was rehearsed in king\nArthur\u2019s court, how he slew twelve knights within the castle Orgulous.\nAnd so he rode on his way. And in the mean while the damsel said to Sir\nMordred, I ween my foolish knight be either slain or taken prisoner.\nThen were they ware where he came riding. And when he was come unto\nthem, he told all how he had sped, and escaped in despite of them all,\nand some of the best of them will tell no tales. Thou liest falsely,\nsaid the damsel, that dare I make good, but as a fool and a dastard to\nall knighthood they have let thee pass. That may ye prove, said La Cote\nMale Taile. With that she sent a courier of hers that rode alway with\nher, for to know the truth of this deed. And so he rode thither\nlightly, and asked how and in what manner that Sir La Cote Male Taile\nwas escaped out of the castle. Then all the knights cursed him and said\nthat he was fiend and no man; for he hath slain here twelve of our best\nknights, and we wend unto this day that it had been too much for Sir\nLauncelot du Lake, or for Sir Tristram de Liones. And in despite of us\nall he is departed from us, and maugre our heads.\n\nWith this answer the courier departed, and came to Maledisant his lady,\nand told her all how Sir La Cote Male Taile had sped at the castle\nOrgulous. Then she smote down her head, and said little. By my head,\nsaid Sir Mordred to the damsel, ye are greatly to blame so to rebuke\nhim, for I warn you plainly he is a good knight, and I doubt not but he\nshall prove a noble knight, but as yet he may not sit sure on\nhorseback: for he that shall be a good horseman it must come of usage\nand exercise. But when he cometh to the strokes of his sword he is then\nnoble and mighty, and that saw Sir Bleoberis and Sir Palamides, for wit\nye well they are wily men of arms, and anon they know when they see a\nyoung knight by his riding, how they are sure to give him a fall from\nhis horse or a great buffet. But for the most part they will not light\non foot with young knights, for they are wight and strongly armed. For\nin likewise Sir Launcelot du Lake when he was first made knight he was\noften put to the worse upon horseback, but ever upon foot he recovered\nhis renown, and slew and defoiled many knights of the Round Table. And\ntherefore the rebukes that Sir Launcelot did to many knights causeth\nthem that be men of prowess to beware, for often I have seen the old\nproved knights rebuked and slain by them that were but young beginners.\nThus they rode sure talking by the way together.\n\nHere leave we off a while of this tale, and speak we of Sir Launcelot\ndu Lake.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot came to the court and heard of La Cote Male Taile,\n and how he followed after him, and how La Cote Male Taile was\n prisoner._\n\nThat when he was come to the court of king Arthur, then heard he tell\nof the young knight La Cote Male Taile, how he slew the lion, and how\nhe took upon him the adventure of the black shield, the which was named\nat that time the hardiest adventure of the world. Truly, said Sir\nLauncelot unto many of his fellows, it was shame to all the noble\nknights to suffer such a young knight to take such adventure upon him\nfor his destruction: for I will that ye wit, said Sir Launcelot, that\nthat damsel Maledisant hath borne that shield many a day for to seek\nthe most proved knights, and that was she that Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9 took\nthat shield from her, and after Tristram de Liones rescued that shield\nfrom him and gave it to the damsel again. A little afore that time Sir\nTristram fought with my nephew Sir Blamor de Ganis for a quarrel that\nwas betwixt the king of Ireland and him. Then many knights were sorry\nthat Sir La Cote Male Taile was gone forth to that adventure. Truly,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, I cast me to ride after him. And within seven days\nSir Launcelot overtook La Cote Male Taile. And then he saluted him and\nthe damsel Maledisant. And when Sir Mordred saw Sir Launcelot then he\nleft their fellowship. And so Sir Launcelot rode with them all a day,\nand ever that damsel rebuked La Cote Male Taile, and then Sir Launcelot\nanswered for him; then she left off and rebuked Sir Launcelot. So this\nmean time Sir Tristram sent by a damsel a letter unto Sir Launcelot\nexcusing him of the wedding of Isoud la Blanche Mains, and passing\ncourteously and gently Sir Tristram wrote unto Sir Launcelot, ever\nbeseeching him to be his good friend, and unto La Beale Isoud of\nCornwall, and that Sir Launcelot would excuse him if that ever he saw\nher. And within short time said Sir Tristram that he would speak with\nLa Beale Isoud and with him right hastily. Then Sir Launcelot departed\nfrom the damsel and from Sir La Cote Male Taile, for to oversee that\nletter, and for to write another letter unto Sir Tristram de Liones.\nAnd in the mean while La Cote Male Taile rode with the damsel until\nthey came unto a castle that hight Pendragon, and there were six\nknights stood afore him, and one of them proffered to just with La Cote\nMale Taile. And there La Cote Male Taile smote him over his horse\ncroup. And then the five knights set upon him all at once with their\nspears, and there they smote La Cote Male Taile down, horse and man,\nand then they alight suddenly, and set their hands upon him all at once\nand took him prisoner, and so led him unto the castle and kept him as\nprisoner. And on the morn Sir Launcelot arose and delivered the damsel\nwith letters unto Sir Tristram, and then he took his way after La Cote\nMale Taile, and by the way upon a bridge there was a knight proffered\nSir Launcelot to just, and Sir Launcelot smote him down, and then they\nfought upon foot a noble battle together, and a mighty. And at the last\nSir Launcelot smote him down groveling upon his hands and his knees;\nand then that knight yielded him, and Sir Launcelot received him fair.\nSir, said the knight, I require thee tell me your name, for much my\nheart giveth unto you. Nay, said Sir Launcelot, as at this time I will\nnot tell you my name, unless then that ye tell me your name. Certainly,\nsaid the knight, my name is Sir Nerovens, that was made knight of my\nlord Sir Launcelot du Lake. Ah, Nerovens de Lile, said Sir Launcelot, I\nam right glad that ye are proved a good knight, for now wit ye well my\nname is Sir Launcelot du Lake. Alas, said Nerovens de Lile, what have I\ndone. And therewithall flatling he fell to his feet, and would have\nkissed them, but Sir Launcelot would not let him; and then either made\ngreat joy of other. And then Sir Nerovens told Sir Launcelot that he\nshould not go by the castle of Pendragon, For there is a lord, a mighty\nknight, and many knights with him, and this night I heard say that they\ntook a knight prisoner yesterday that rode with a damsel, and they say\nhe is a knight of the Round Table.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot fought with six knights, and after with Sir Brian,\n and how he delivered the prisoners._\n\nAh, said Sir Launcelot, that knight is my fellow, and him shall I\nrescue, or else I shall lose my life therefore. And therewithal he rode\nfast till he came before the castle of Pendragon, and anon therewithal\nthere came six knights, and all made them ready to set upon Sir\nLauncelot at once. Then Sir Launcelot feutred his spear, and smote the\nforemost that he brake his back in sunder, and three of them hit and\nthree failed. And then Sir Launcelot past through them, and lightly he\nturned in again, and smote another knight through the breast and\nthroughout the back, and more than an ell, and therewithal his spear\nbrake. So then all the remnant of the four knights drew their swords,\nand lashed at Sir Launcelot, and at every stroke Sir Launcelot bestowed\nso his strokes that at four strokes sundry they avoided their saddles,\npassing sore wounded, and forthwithal he rode hurling into that castle.\nAnd, anon the lord of the castle that was that time called Sir Brian de\nles isles, the which was a noble man, and a great enemy unto king\nArthur, within awhile he was armed and upon horseback: and then they\nfeutred their spears, and hurled together so strongly that both their\nhorses rashed to the earth. And then they avoided their saddles, and\ndressed their shields, and drew their swords, and flung together as\nwood men, and there were many strokes given in a while. At the last Sir\nLauncelot gave to Sir Brian such a buffet that he kneeled upon his\nknees, and then Sir Launcelot rashed upon him, and with great force he\npulled him off his helm, and when Sir Brian saw that he should be\nslain, he yielded him, and put him in his mercy and in his grace. Then\nSir Launcelot made him to deliver all his prisoners that he had within\nhis castle, and therein Sir Launcelot found of Arthur\u2019s knights thirty,\nand forty ladies, and so he delivered them and then he rode his way.\nAnd anon as La Cote Male Taile was delivered he gat his horse and his\nharness, and his damsel Maledisant. The mean while Sir Nerovens, that\nSir Launcelot had fought withall afore at the bridge, he sent a damsel\nafter Sir Launcelot for to wit how he sped at the castle of Pendragon.\nAnd then they within the castle marvelled what knight he was when Sir\nBrian and his knights delivered all those prisoners. Have ye no marvel,\nsaid the damsel, for the best knight in this world was here, and did\nthis tourney, and wit ye well, she said, it was Sir Launcelot. Then was\nSir Brian full glad, and so was his lady and all his knights that such\na man should win them. And when the damsel and La Cote Male Taile\nunderstood that it was Sir Launcelot du Lake that had ridden with them\nin fellowship, and that she remembered her how she had rebuked him and\ncalled him coward, then was she passing heavy.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot met with the damsel named Maledisant, and how he\n named her the damsel Bienpensant._\n\nSo then they took their horses and rode forth a pace after Sir\nLauncelot. And within two mile they overtook him, and saluted him, and\nthanked him, and the damsel cried Sir Launcelot mercy of her evil deed,\nand saying, For now I know the flower of all knighthood is parted even\nbetween Sir Tristram and you. For I have sought you my lord Sir\nLauncelot, and Sir Tristram, long, and now I thank God I have met with\nyou; and once at Camelot, I met with Sir Tristram, and there he rescued\nthis black shield with the white hand holding a naked sword, which Sir\nBreuse Sance Pit\u00e9 had taken away from me. Now, fair damsel, said Sir\nLauncelot, who told you my name? Sir, said she, there came a damsel\nfrom a knight that ye fought withall at the bridge, and she told me\nyour name was Sir Launcelot du Lake. Blame have she then, said Sir\nLauncelot, but her lord Sir Nerovens hath told her. But damsel, said\nSir Launcelot, upon this covenant I will ride with you, so that ye will\nnot rebuke this knight Sir La Cote Male Taile no more, for he is a good\nknight, and I doubt not he shall prove a noble knight, and for his\nsake, and pity that he should not be destroyed, I followed him to\nsuccour him in this great need. Ah, God thank you, said the damsel, for\nnow I will say unto you and to him both, I rebuked him never for no\nhate that I hated him, but for great love that I had to him: for ever I\nsupposed that he had been too young and too tender to take upon him\nthese adventures, and, therefore by my will I would have driven him\naway for jealousy that I had of his life; for it may be no young\nknight\u2019s deed that shall achieve this adventure to the end. Perdy, said\nSir Launcelot, it is well said, and where ye are called the damsel\nMaledisant, I will call you the damsel Bienpensant. And so they rode\nforth a great while until they came to the border of the country of\nSurluse, and there they found a fair village with a strong bridge like\na fortress. And when Sir Launcelot and they were at the bridge, there\nstart forth afore them of gentlemen and yeomen many that said, Fair\nlords, ye may not pass this bridge and this fortress because of that\nblack shield that I see one of you bear, and therefore there shall not\npass but one of you at once; therefore choose which of you shall enter\nwithin this bridge first. Then Sir Launcelot proffered himself first to\nenter within this bridge. Sir, said La Cote Male Taile, I beseech you\nlet me enter first within this fortress, and if I may speed well I will\nsend for you, and if it happen that I be slain, there it goeth. And if\nso be that I am a prisoner taken, then may ye rescue me. I am loth,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, to let you pass this passage. Sir, said La Cote\nMale Taile, I pray you let me put my body in this adventure. Now go\nyour way, said Sir Launcelot, and Jesu be your speed. So he entered,\nand anon there met with him two brethren, the one hight Sir Plaine de\nForce, and the other hight Sir Plaine de Amours; and anon they met with\nSir La Cote Male Taile, and first La Cote Male Taile smote down Sir\nPlaine de Force, and soon after he smote down Plaine de Amours, and\nthen they dressed them to their shields and swords, and bad La Cote\nMale Taile alight, and so he did, and there was dashing and foining\nwith swords, and so they began to assail full hard La Cote Male Taile,\nand many great wounds they gave him upon his head and upon his breast\nand upon his shoulders. And as he might ever among he gave sad strokes\nagain. And then the two brethren traced and traversed for to be of both\nhands of Sir La Cote Male Taile, but he by fine force and knightly\nprowess gat them afore him. And then when he felt himself so wounded\nthen he doubled his strokes and gave them so many wounds that he felled\nthem to the earth, and would have slain them had they not yielded them.\nAnd right so Sir La Cote Male Taile took the best horse that there was\nof them three, and so rode forth his way to the other fortress and\nbridge, and there he met with the third brother, whose name was Sir\nPlenorius, a full noble knight, and there they justed together, and\neither smote other down horse and man to the earth. And then they\navoided their horses, and dressed their shields, and drew their swords,\nand gave many sad strokes, and one while the one knight was afore on\nthe bridge, and another while the other. And thus they fought two hours\nand more, and never rested, and ever Sir Launcelot and the damsel\nbeheld them. Alas, said the damsel, my knight fighteth passing sore and\nover long. Now may ye see, said Sir Launcelot, that he is a noble\nknight, for to consider his first battle, and his grievous wounds. And\neven forth with all so wounded as he is, it is great marvel that he may\nendure this long battle with that good knight.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How La Cote Male Taile was taken prisoner, and after rescued by Sir\n Launcelot, and how Sir Launcelot overcame four brethren._\n\nThis mean while Sir La Cote Male Taile sank right down upon the earth,\nwhat for-wounded and what for-bled he might not stand. Then the other\nknight had pity of him, and said, Fair young knight, dismay you not,\nfor had ye been fresh when ye met with me, as I was, I well wot that I\nshould not have endured so long as ye have done, and therefore for your\nnoble deeds of arms I shall shew to you kindness and gentleness in all\nthat I may. And forth withal this noble knight Sir Plenorius took him\nup in his arms, and led him into his tower. And then he commanded him\nthe wine, and made to search him, and to stop his bleeding wounds. Sir,\nsaid La Cote Male Taile, withdraw you from me, and hie you to yonder\nbridge again, for there will meet you another manner knight than ever I\nwas. Why, said Sir Plenorius, is there another manner knight behind of\nyour fellowship? Yea, said La Cote Male Taile, there is a much better\nknight than I am. What is his name? said Plenorius. Ye shall not know\nfor me, said La Cote Male Taile. Well, said the knight, he shall be\nencountered withal, whatsoever he be. Then Sir Plenorius heard a knight\ncall that said, Sir Plenorius, where art thou? either thou must deliver\nme the prisoner that thou hast led unto thy tower, or else come and do\nbattle with me. Then Sir Plenorius gat his horse, and came with a spear\nin his hand, galloping towards Sir Launcelot, and then they began to\nfeutre their spears, and came together as thunder, and smote either\nother so mightily that their horses fell down under them. And then they\navoided their horses, and pulled out their swords, and like two bulls\nthey lashed together with great strokes and foins, but ever Sir\nLauncelot recovered ground upon him, and Sir Plenorius traced to have\ngone about him. But Sir Launcelot would not suffer that, but bare him\nbacker and backer till he came nigh his tower gate. And then said Sir\nLauncelot, I know thee well for a good knight, but wit thou well thy\nlife and death is in my hand, and therefore yield thee to me, and thy\nprisoner. The other answered no word, but strake mightily upon Sir\nLauncelot\u2019s helm, that fire sprang out of his eyen; then Sir Launcelot\ndoubled his strokes so thick, and smote at him so mightily, that he\nmade him kneel upon his knees, and therewith Sir Launcelot lept upon\nhim and pulled him groveling down. Then Sir Plenorius yielded him, and\nhis tower, and all his prisoners, at his will. And then Sir Launcelot\nreceived him and took his troth, and then he rode to the other bridge,\nand there Sir Launcelot justed with other three of his brethren, the\none hight Pillounes, and the other hight Pellogris, and the third Sir\nPellandris. And first upon horseback Sir Launcelot smote them down, and\nafterward he beat them on foot, and made them to yield them unto him,\nand then he returned unto Sir Plenorius, and there he found in his\nprison king Carados of Scotland and many other knights, and all they\nwere delivered. And then Sir La Cote Male Taile came to Sir Launcelot,\nand then Sir Launcelot would have given him all these fortresses and\nthese bridges. Nay, said La Cote Male Taile, I will not have Sir\nPlenorius\u2019s livelihood: with that he will grant you, my lord Sir\nLauncelot, to come unto king Arthur\u2019s court, and to be his knight, and\nall his brethren, I will pray you, my lord, to let him have his\nlivelihood. I will well, said Sir Launcelot, with this that he will\ncome to the court of king Arthur, and become his man, and his brethren\nfive. And as for you, Sir Plenorius, I will undertake, said Sir\nLauncelot, at the next feast, so there be a place voided, that ye shall\nbe knight of the Round Table. Sir, said Sir Plenorius, at the next\nfeast of Pentecost I will be at Arthur\u2019s court, and at that time I will\nbe guided and ruled as king Arthur and ye will have me. Then Sir\nLauncelot and Sir La Cote Male Tail reposed them there unto the time\nthat Sir La Cote Male Taile was whole of his wounds, and there they had\nmerry cheer, and good rest, and many games, and there were many fair\nladies.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot made La Cote Male Taile lord of the castle of\n Pendragon, and after was made knight of the Round Table._\n\nAnd in the mean while there came Sir Kay the seneschal, and Sir\nBrandiles, and anon they fellowshipped with them. And then within ten\ndays then departed those knights of king Arthur\u2019s court from these\nfortresses. And as Sir Launcelot came by the castle of Pendragon, there\nhe put Sir Brian de les isles from his lands, because he would never be\nwithold with king Arthur, and all that castle of Pendragon, and all the\nlands thereof, he gave to Sir La Cote Male Taile. And then Sir\nLauncelot sent for Sir Nerovens, that he made once knight, and he made\nhim to have all the rule of that castle and of that country under La\nCote Male Taile. And so they rode to Arthur\u2019s court all wholly\ntogether. And at Pentecost next following there was Sir Plenorius, and\nSir La Cote Male Taile, called otherwise by right Sir Breunor le Noire,\nboth made knights of the Table Round, and great lands king Arthur gave\nthem; and there Breunor le Noire wedded that damsel Maledisant. And\nafter she was called Beauvivante: but ever after for the more part he\nwas called La Cote Male Taile, and he proved a passing noble knight and\nmighty, and many worshipful deeds he did after in his life, and Sir\nPlenorius proved a noble knight and full of prowess. And all the days\nof their life for the most part they awaited upon Sir Launcelot. And\nSir Plenorius\u2019s brethren were ever knights of king Arthur. And also as\nthe French book maketh mention, Sir La Cote Male Taile avenged his\nfather\u2019s death.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How La Beale Isoud sent letters unto Sir Tristram by her maid\n Bragwaine, and of divers adventures of Sir Tristram._\n\nNow leave we here Sir La Cote Male Taile, and turn we unto Sir Tristram\nde Liones that was in Britanny. When La Beale Isoud understood that he\nwas wedded she sent unto him by her maiden Bragwaine as piteous letters\nas could be thought and made, and her conclusion was, that, and it\npleased Sir Tristram, that he would come to her court and bring with\nhim Isoud la Blanche Mains, and they should be kept as well as she\nherself. Then Sir Tristram called unto him Sir Kehydius and asked him\nwhether he would go with him into Cornwall secretly. He answered him\nthat he was ready at all times. And then he let ordain privily a little\nvessel, and therein they went, Sir Tristram, Kehydius, dame Bragwaine,\nand Gouvernail Sir Tristram\u2019s squire. So when they were in the sea, a\ncontrarious wind blew them on the coasts of North Wales, nigh the\ncastle perilous. Then said Sir Tristram, Here shall ye abide me these\nten days, and Gouvernail my squire with you. And if so be I come not\nagain by that day, take the next way into Cornwall, for in this forest\nare many strange adventures as I have heard say, and some of them I\ncast me to prove or I depart: and when I may I shall hie me after you.\nThen Sir Tristram and Kehydius took their horses and departed from\ntheir fellowship. And so they rode within that forest a mile and more.\nAnd at the last Sir Tristram saw afore him a likely knight armed,\nsitting by a well, and a strong mighty horse passing nigh him tied to\nan oak, and a man hoving and riding by him, leading an horse laden with\nspears. And this knight that sat at the well seemed by his countenance\nto be passing heavy. Then Sir Tristram rode near him and said, Fair\nknight, why sit ye so drooping? Ye seem to be a knight errant by your\narms and harness, and therefore dress you to just with one of us or\nwith both. Therewithal that knight made no words, but took his shield\nand buckled it about his neck, and lightly he took his horse and lept\nupon him. And then he took a great spear of his squire, and departed\nhis way a furlong. Sir Kehydius asked leave of Sir Tristram to just\nfirst. Do your best, said Sir Tristram. So they met together, and there\nSir Kehydius had a fall, and was sore wounded on high above the breast.\nThen Sir Tristram said, Knight, that is well justed, now make you ready\nunto me. I am ready, said the knight. And then that knight took a\ngreater spear in his hand and encountered with Sir Tristram, and there\nby great force that knight smote down Sir Tristram from his horse, and\nhe had a great fall. Then Sir Tristram was sore ashamed, and lightly he\navoided his horse and put his shield afore his shoulder, and drew his\nsword. And then Sir Tristram required that knight of his knighthood to\nalight upon foot and fight with him. I will well, said the knight. And\nso he alight upon foot and avoided his horse, and cast his shield upon\nhis shoulder, and drew his sword, and there they fought a long battle\ntogether full nigh two hours.\n\nThen Sir Tristram said, Fair knight, hold thy hand, and tell me of\nwhence thou art, and what is thy name. As for that, said the knight, I\nwill be advised, but and thou wilt tell me thy name, peradventure I\nwill tell thee mine.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How Sir Tristram met with Sir Lamorak de Galis, and how they fought,\n and after accorded never to fight together._\n\nNow fair knight, he said, my name is Sir Tristram de Liones. Sir, said\nthe other knight, and my name is Sir Lamorak de Galis. Ah Sir Lamorak,\nsaid Sir Tristram, well be we met, and bethink thee now of the despite\nthat thou didst me of the sending of the horn unto king Mark\u2019s court,\nto the intent to have slain or dishonoured my lady the queen La Beale\nIsoud. And therefore wit thou well, said Sir Tristram, the one of us\nshall die or we depart. Sir, said Sir Lamorak, remember that we were\ntogether in the isle of Servage, and at that time ye promised me great\nfriendship. Then Sir Tristram would make no longer delays, but lashed\nat Sir Lamorak, and thus they fought long, till either were weary of\nother. Then Sir Tristram said to Sir Lamorak, In all my life met I\nnever with such a knight that was so big and well breathed as ye be;\ntherefore, said Sir Tristram, it were pity that any of us both should\nhere be mischieved. Sir, said Sir Lamorak, for your renown and name I\nwill that ye have the worship of this battle, and therefore I will\nyield me unto you. And therewith he took the point of his sword to\nyield him. Nay, said Sir Tristram, ye shall not do so, for I know well\nyour proffers are more of your gentleness than for any fear or dread ye\nhave of me. And therewithal Sir Tristram proffered him his sword, and\nsaid, Sir Lamorak, as an overcome knight I yield me unto you, as to a\nman of the most noble prowess that ever I met withal. Nay, said Sir\nLamorak, I will do you gentleness. I require you let us be sworn\ntogether that never none of us shall after this day have ado with\nother. And there withal Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorak sware that never\nnone of them should fight against other, nor for weal nor for woe.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How Sir Palamides followed the questing beast, and he smote down both\n Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorak with one spear._\n\nAnd this mean while there came Sir Palamides the good knight following\nthe questing beast that had in shape a head like a serpent\u2019s head, and\na body like a libbard, haunches like a lion, and footed like a hart,\nand in his body there was such a noise as it had been the noise of\nthirty couple of hounds questing, and such a noise that beast made\nwheresoever he went. And this beast evermore Sir Palamides followed,\nfor it was called his quest. And right so as he followed this beast it\ncame by Sir Tristram, and soon after came Palamides, and to brief this\nmatter he smote down Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorak both with one spear,\nand so he departed after the beast Glatisant, that was called the\nquesting beast, wherefore these two knights were passing wroth that Sir\nPalamides would not fight on foot with them.\n\nHere men may understand that be of worship, that he was never formed\nthat all times might stand, but some time he was put to the worse by\nmal-fortune. And at some time the worse knight put the better knight to\na rebuke. Then Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorak gat Sir Kehydius upon a\nshield betwixt them both, and led him to a forester\u2019s lodge, and there\nthey gave him in charge to keep him well, and with him they abode three\ndays. Then the two knights took their horses and at the cross they\nparted. And then said Sir Tristram to Sir Lamorak, I require you if ye\nhap to meet with Sir Palamides, say him that he shall find me at the\nsame well there I met him, and there I, Sir Tristram, shall prove\nwhether he be better knight than I. And so either departed from other a\nsundry way, and Sir Tristram rode nigh there as was Sir Kehydius, and\nSir Lamorak rode until he came to a chapel, and there he put his horse\nunto pasture. And anon there came Sir Meliagaunce that was king\nBagdemagus\u2019s son, and he there put his horse to pasture, and was not\nware of Sir Lamorak, and then this knight Sir Meliagaunce made his moan\nof the love that he had to queen Guenever, and there he made a woful\ncomplaint. All this heard Sir Lamorak, and on the morn Sir Lamorak took\nhis horse and rode unto the forest, and there he met two knights hoving\nunder the wood shawe. Fair knights, said Sir Lamorak, what do ye hoving\nhere and watching, and if ye be knights errant that will just, lo I am\nready. Nay, sir knight, they said, not so, we abide not here for to\njust with you, but we lie here in await of a knight that slew our\nbrother. What knight was that, said Sir Lamorak, that ye would fain\nmeet withal. Sir, they said, it is Sir Launcelot that slew our brother,\nand if ever we may meet with him he shall not escape but we shall slay\nhim. Ye take upon you a great charge, said Sir Lamorak, for Sir\nLauncelot is a noble proved knight. As for that we doubt not, for there\nis none of us but we are good enough for him. I will not believe that,\nsaid Sir Lamorak, for I heard never yet of no knight the days of my\nlife but Sir Launcelot was too big for him.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_How Sir Lamorak met with Sir Meliagaunce, and how they fought together\n for the beauty of queen Guenever._\n\nRight so as they stood talking thus, Sir Lamorak was ware how Sir\nLauncelot came riding straight toward them; then Sir Lamorak saluted\nhim, and he him again. And then Sir Lamorak asked Sir Launcelot if\nthere were any thing that he might do for him in these marches. Nay,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, not at this time, I thank you. Then either departed\nfrom other, and Sir Lamorak rode again there as he left the two\nknights, and then he found them hid in the leaved wood. Fie on you,\nsaid Sir Lamorak, false cowards, pity and shame it is that any of you\nshould take the high order of knighthood. So Sir Lamorak departed from\nthem, and within a while he met with Sir Meliagaunce, and then Sir\nLamorak asked him why he loved queen Guenever as he did: For I was not\nfar from you when ye made your complaint by the chapel. Did ye so, said\nSir Meliagaunce, then will I abide by it: I love queen Guenever; what\nwill ye with it? I will prove and make good that she is the fairest\nlady and most of beauty in the world. As to that, said Sir Lamorak, I\nsay nay thereto, for queen Morgause of Orkney, mother to Sir Gawaine,\nand his mother is the fairest queen and lady that beareth the life.\nThat is not so, said Sir Meliagaunce, and that will I prove with my\nhands upon thy body. Will ye so, said Sir Lamorak, and in a better\nquarrel keep I not to fight. Then they departed either from other in\ngreat wrath. And then they came riding together as it had been thunder,\nand either smote other so sore that their horses fell backward to the\nearth. And then they avoided their horses, and dressed their shields,\nand drew their swords. And then they hurtled together as wild boars,\nand thus they fought a great while. For Meliagaunce was a good man and\nof great might, but Sir Lamorak was hard big for him, and put him\nalways aback; but either had wounded other sore. And as they stood thus\nfighting, by fortune came Sir Launcelot and Sir Bleoberis riding. And\nthen Sir Launcelot rode betwixt them, and asked them for what cause\nthey fought so together, and ye are both knights of king Arthur.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How Sir Meliagaunce told for what cause they fought, and how Sir\n Lamorak justed with king Arthur._\n\nSir, said Meliagaunce, I shall tell you for what cause we do this\nbattle. I praised my lady queen Guenever, and said she was the fairest\nlady of the world, and Sir Lamorak said nay thereto, for he said queen\nMorgause of Orkney was fairer than she, and more of beauty. Ah Sir\nLamorak, why sayest thou so? It is not thy part to dispraise thy\nprincess that thou art under her obeisance and we all. And therewith he\nalight on foot, and said, For this quarrel make thee ready, for I will\nprove upon thee that queen Guenever is the fairest lady and most of\nbounty in the world. Sir, said Sir Lamorak, I am loth to have ado with\nyou in this quarrel. For every man thinketh his own lady fairest; and\nthough I praise the lady that I love most, ye should not be wroth. For\nthough my lady queen Guenever be fairest in your eye, wit ye well queen\nMorgause of Orkney is fairest in mine eye, and so every knight thinketh\nhis own lady fairest; and, wit ye well, Sir, ye are the man in the\nworld, except Sir Tristram, that I am most lothest to have ado withal.\nBut and ye will needs fight with me, I shall endure you as long as I\nmay. Then spake Sir Bleoberis, and said, My lord Sir Launcelot, I wist\nyou never so misadvised as ye are now. For Sir Lamorak saith you but\nreason and knightly. For I warn you I have a lady, and me thinketh that\nshe is the fairest lady of the world. Were this a great reason that ye\nshould be wroth with me for such language? And well ye wot that Sir\nLamorak is as noble a knight as I know, and he hath owed you and us\never good will, and therefore I pray you be good friends. Then Sir\nLauncelot said unto Sir Lamorak: I pray you forgive me mine evil will;\nand if I was misadvised I will amend it. Sir, said Sir Lamorak, the\namends is soon made betwixt you and me. And so Sir Launcelot and Sir\nBleoberis departed. And Sir Meliagaunce and Sir Lamorak took their\nhorses, and either departed from other. And within a while came king\nArthur, and met with Sir Lamorak, and justed with him, and there he\nsmote down Sir Lamorak, and wounded him sore with a spear, and so he\nrode from him, wherefore Sir Lamorak was wroth that he would not fight\nwith him on foot; how be it that Sir Lamorak knew not king Arthur.\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n_How Sir Kay met with Sir Tristram, and after of the shame spoken of\n the knights of Cornwall, and how they justed._\n\nNow leave we of this tale, and speak we of Sir Tristram, that as he\nrode he met with Sir Kay the seneschal, and there Sir Kay asked Sir\nTristram of what country he was. He answered that he was of the country\nof Cornwall. It may well be, said Sir Kay, for yet heard I never that\never good knight came out of Cornwall. That is evil spoken, said Sir\nTristram, but and it please you to tell me your name I require you.\nSir, wit ye well, said Sir Kay, that my name is Sir Kay the seneschal.\nIs that your name? said Sir Tristram; now wit ye well that ye are named\nthe shamefullest knight of your tongue that now is living, how be it ye\nare called a good knight, but ye are called unfortunate, and passing\noverthwart of your tongue. And thus they rode together till they came\nto a bridge. And there was a knight would not let them pass till one of\nthem justed with him. And so that knight justed with Sir Kay, and there\nthat knight gave Sir Kay a fall; his name was Sir Tor, Sir Lamorak\u2019s\nhalf brother. And then they two rode to their lodging, and there they\nfound Sir Brandiles; and Sir Tor came thither anon after.\n\nAnd as they sat at supper, these four knights, three of them spake all\nshame by Cornish knights. Sir Tristram heard all that they said, and he\nsaid but little, but he thought the more; but at that time he\ndiscovered not his name. Upon the morn Sir Tristram took his horse and\nabode them upon their way; and there Sir Brandiles proffered to just\nwith Sir Tristram, and Sir Tristram smote him down, horse and all, to\nthe earth. Then Sir Tor le Fise de Vayshoure encountered with Sir\nTristram, and there Sir Tristram smote him down. And then he rode his\nway, and Sir Kay followed him, but he would not of his fellowship. Then\nSir Brandiles came to Sir Kay, and said, I would wit fain what is that\nknight\u2019s name. Come on with me, said Sir Kay, and we shall pray him to\ntell us his name. So they rode together till they came nigh him; and\nthen they were ware where he sat by a well, and had put off his helm to\ndrink at the well. And when he saw them come, he laced on his helm\nlightly, and took his horse, and proffered them to just. Nay, said Sir\nBrandiles, we justed late enough with you; we come not in that intent.\nBut for this we come, to require you of knighthood to tell us your\nname. My fair knights, since that is your desire, and to please you, ye\nshall wit that my name is Sir Tristram de Liones, nephew unto king Mark\nof Cornwall. In good time, said Sir Brandiles, and well ye be found;\nand wit ye well that we be right glad that we have found you, and we be\nof a fellowship that would be right glad of your company. For ye are\nthe knight in the world that the noble fellowship of the Round Table\nmost desireth to have the company of. I thank them, said Sir Tristram,\nof their great goodness; but as yet I feel well that I am unable to be\nof their fellowship. For I was never of such deeds of worthiness to be\nin the company of such a fellowship. Ah, said Sir Kay, and ye be Sir\nTristram de Liones, ye are the man now called most of prowess, except\nSir Launcelot du Lake. For he beareth not the life, christian ne\nheathen, that can find such another knight, to speak of his prowess,\nand of his hands, and his truth withal. For yet could there never\ncreature say of him dishonour and make it good. Thus they talked a\ngreat while; and then they departed either from other, such ways as\nthem seemed best.\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n_How king Arthur was brought into the forest perilous, and how Sir\n Tristram saved his life._\n\nNow shall ye hear what was the cause that king Arthur came into the\nforest perilous, that was in North Wales, by the means of a lady. Her\nname was Annowre, and this lady came to king Arthur at Cardiff, and\nshe, by fair promise and fair behests, made king Arthur to ride with\nher into that forest perilous; and she was a great sorceress, and many\ndays she had loved king Arthur, and therefore she came into that\ncountry. So when the king was gone with her, many of his knights\nfollowed after king Arthur when they missed him, as Sir Launcelot,\nBrandiles, and many other. And when she had brought him to her tower,\nshe desired him to love her. And then the king remembered him of his\nlady, and would not love her for no craft that she could do. Then every\nday she would make him ride into that forest with his own knights, to\nthe intent to have had king Arthur slain. For when this lady Annowre\nsaw that she might not have him at her will, then she laboured by false\nmeans to have destroyed king Arthur and slain. Then the Lady of the\nlake, that was alway friendly to king Arthur, she understood by her\nsubtle crafts that king Arthur was like to be destroyed. And therefore\nthis Lady of the lake, that hight Nimue, came into that forest to seek\nafter Sir Launcelot du Lake, or Sir Tristram, for to help king Arthur;\nfor as that same day this Lady of the lake knew well that king Arthur\nshould be slain, unless that he had help of one of these two knights.\nAnd thus she rode up and down till she met with Sir Tristram, and anon\nas she saw him she knew him. O my lord Sir Tristram, she said, well be\nye met, and blessed be the time that I have met with you; for this same\nday, and within these two hours, shall be done the foulest deed that\never was done in this land. O fair damsel, said Sir Tristram, may I\namend it? Come on with me, she said, and that in all the haste ye may,\nfor ye shall see the most worshipfullest knight of the world hard\nbested. Then said Sir Tristram, I am ready to help such a noble man. He\nis neither better nor worse, said the Lady of the lake, but the noble\nking Arthur himself. God defend, said Sir Tristram, that ever he should\nbe in such distress. Then they rode together a great pace, until they\ncame to a little turret or castle, and underneath that castle they saw\na knight standing upon foot fighting with two knights; and so Sir\nTristram beheld them, and at the last the two knights smote down the\none knight, and that one of them unlaced his helm to have slain him.\nAnd the lady Annowre gat king Arthur\u2019s sword in her hand to have\nstricken off his head. And therewithal came Sir Tristram with all his\nmight, crying, Traitress, traitress, leave that. And anon there Sir\nTristram smote one of the knights through the body, that he fell dead;\nand then he rashed to the other and smote his back in sunder, and in\nthe mean while the Lady of the lake cried to king Arthur, Let not that\nfalse lady escape. Then king Arthur overtook her, and with the same\nsword he smote off her head; and the Lady of the lake took up her head,\nand hung it up by the hair on her saddle bow. And then Sir Tristram\nhorsed king Arthur, and rode forth with him, but he charged the Lady of\nthe lake not to discover his name as at that time. When the king was\nhorsed he thanked heartily Sir Tristram, and desired to wit his name;\nbut he would not tell him, but that he was a poor knight adventurous.\nAnd so he bare king Arthur fellowship till he met with some of his\nknights. And within a mile he met with Sir Ector de Maris, and he knew\nnot king Arthur nor Sir Tristram, and he desired to just with one of\nthem. Then Sir Tristram rode unto Sir Ector, and smote him from his\nhorse. And when he had done so he came again to the king, and said: My\nlord, yonder is one of your knights, he may bear you fellowship; and\nanother day by that deed that I have done for you, I trust ye shall\nunderstand that I would do you service. Alas, said king Arthur, let me\nwit what ye are. Not at this time, said Sir Tristram. So he departed,\nand left king Arthur and Sir Ector together.\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram came to La Beale Isoud, and how Kehydius began to\n love La Beale Isoud, and of a letter that Tristram found._\n\nAnd then at a day set Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorak met at the well; and\nthen they took Kehydius at the forester\u2019s house, and so they rode with\nhim to the ship where they left dame Bragwaine and Gouvernail, and so\nthey sailed into Cornwall all wholly together; and by assent and\ninformation of dame Bragwaine, when they were landed they rode unto Sir\nDinas the seneschal, a trusty friend of Sir Tristram\u2019s. And so dame\nBragwaine and Sir Dinas rode to the court of king Mark, and told the\nqueen, La Beale Isoud, that Sir Tristram was nigh her in that country.\nThen for very pure joy La Beale Isoud swooned: and when she might\nspeak, she said, Gentle knight seneschal, help that I might speak with\nhim, or else my heart will brast.\n\nThen Sir Dinas and dame Bragwaine brought Sir Tristram and Kehydius\nprivily unto the court, unto a chamber whereas La Beale Isoud assigned\nit; and to tell the joy that was between La Beale Isoud and Sir\nTristram, there is no tongue can tell it, nor heart think it, nor pen\nwrite it. And, as the French book maketh mention, at the first time\nthat ever Sir Kehydius saw La Beale Isoud, he was so enamoured upon her\nthat for very pure love he might never withdraw it. And at the last, as\nye shall hear or the book be ended, Sir Kehydius died for the love of\nLa Beale Isoud. And then privily he wrote unto her letters and ballads\nof the most goodliest that were used in those days. And when La Beale\nIsoud understood his letters, she had pity of his complaint, and\nunadvised she wrote another letter to comfort him withal. And Sir\nTristram was all this while in a turret, at the commandment of La Beale\nIsoud, and when she might she came unto Sir Tristram. So on a day king\nMark played at the chess under a chamber window; and at that time Sir\nTristram and Sir Kehydius were within the chamber, over king Mark, and\nas it mishapped Sir Tristram found the letter that Kehydius sent to La\nBeale Isoud; also he had found the letter that she wrote unto Kehydius,\nand at that same time La Beale Isoud was in the same chamber. Then Sir\nTristram came unto La Beale Isoud, and said; Madam, here is a letter\nthat was sent unto you, and here is the letter that ye sent unto him\nthat sent you that letter. Alas, madam, the good love that I have loved\nyou, and many lands and riches have I forsaken for your love, and now\nye are a traitress to me, the which doth me great pain. But as for\nthee, Sir Kehydius, I brought thee out of Britanny into this country,\nand thy father, king Howel, I won his lands; howbeit, I wedded thy\nsister, Isoud la Blanche Mains, for the goodness which she did to me;\nbut wit thou well Sir Kehydius for this falsehood and treason thou hast\ndone me, I will revenge it upon thee. And therewithal Sir Tristram drew\nout his sword, and said, Sir Kehydius keep thee, and then La Beale\nIsoud swooned to the earth. And when Sir Kehydius saw Sir Tristram come\nupon him, he saw none other boot, but lept out at a bay window, even\nover the head where sat king Mark playing at the chess. And when the\nking saw one come hurling over his head, he said, Fellow, what art\nthou, and what is the cause thou leapest out of that window? My lord\nthe king, said Kehydius, it fortuned me that I was asleep in the window\nabove your head, and as I slept I slumbered, and so I fell down. And\nthus Sir Kehydius excused him.\n\n\n CHAP. XVIII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram departed from Tintagil, and how he sorrowed, and was\n so long in a forest till he was out of his mind._\n\nThen Sir Tristram dread sore lest he were discovered unto the king that\nhe was there, wherefore he drew him to the strength of the tower, and\narmed him in such armour as he had, for to fight with them that would\nwithstand him. And so when Sir Tristram saw there was no resistance\nagainst him, he sent Gouvernail for his horse and for his spear, and\nknightly he rode forth out of the castle openly that was called the\ncastle of Tintagil. And even at the gate he met with Gingalin, Sir\nGawaine\u2019s son. And anon Sir Gingalin put his spear in his rest, and ran\nupon Sir Tristram, and brake his spear, and Sir Tristram at that time\nhad but a sword, and gave him such a buffet upon the helm that he fell\ndown from his saddle, and his sword slid down and carved asunder his\nhorse neck. And so Sir Tristram rode his way into the forest, and all\nthis doing saw king Mark. And then he sent a squire unto the hurt\nknight, and commanded him to come to him, and so he did. And when king\nMark wist that it was Sir Gingalin, he welcomed him, and gave him a\nhorse, and asked him what knight it was that had encountered with him.\nSir, said Sir Gingalin, I wot not what knight he was, but well I wot\nthat he sigheth, and maketh great dole. Then Sir Tristram within a\nwhile met with a knight of his own, that hight Sir Fergus. And when he\nhad met with him he made great sorrow, insomuch that he fell down off\nhis horse in a swoon, and in such sorrow he was in three days and three\nnights. Then at the last Sir Tristram sent unto the court by Sir\nFergus, for to ask what tidings. And so as he rode by the way he met\nwith a damsel that came from Sir Palamides, to know and seek how Sir\nTristram did. Then Sir Fergus told her how he was almost out of his\nmind. Alas, said the damsel, where shall I find him? In such a place,\nsaid Sir Fergus. Then Sir Fergus found queen Isoud sick in her bed,\nmaking the greatest dole that ever any earthly woman made. And when the\ndamsel found Sir Tristram, she made great dole because she might not\namend him; for the more she made of him the more was his pain. And at\nthe last Sir Tristram took his horse and rode away from her. And then\nwas it three days or that she could find him, and then she brought him\nmeat and drink, but he would none. And then another time Sir Tristram\nescaped away from the damsel, and it happed him to ride by the same\ncastle where Sir Palamides and Sir Tristram did battle when La Beale\nIsoud departed them. And there by fortune the damsel met with Sir\nTristram again, making the greatest dole that ever earthly creature\nmade, and she went to the lady of that castle, and told her of the\nmisadventure of Sir Tristram. Alas, said the lady of that castle, where\nis my lord Sir Tristram? Right here by your castle, said the damsel. In\ngood time, said the lady, is he so nigh me: he shall have meat and\ndrink of the best, and a harp I have of his whereupon he taught\nme,\u2014for of goodly harping he beareth the prize in the world. So this\nlady and the damsel brought him meat and drink, but he eat little\nthereof. Then upon a night he put his horse from him, and then he\nunlaced his armour, and then Sir Tristram would go into the wilderness,\nand brast down the trees and boughs; and otherwhile, when he found the\nharp that the lady sent him, then would he harp and play thereupon and\nweep together. And sometime when Sir Tristram was in the wood, that the\nlady wist not where he was, then would she sit her down and play upon\nthat harp: then would Sir Tristram come to that harp and hearken\nthereto, and sometime he would harp himself. Thus he there endured a\nquarter of a year. Then at the last he ran his way, and she wist not\nwhere he was become. And then was he naked, and waxed lean and poor of\nflesh, and so he fell into the fellowship of herdmen and shepherds, and\ndaily they would give him of their meat and drink. And when he did any\nshrewd deed they would beat him with rods, and so they clipped him with\nshears and made him like a fool.\n\n\n CHAP. XIX.\n\n_How Sir Tristram soused Dagonet in a well, and how Palamides sent a\n damsel to seek Tristram, and how Palamides met with king Mark._\n\nAnd upon a day Sir Dagonet, king Arthur\u2019s fool, came into Cornwall,\nwith two squires with him, and as they rode through that forest they\ncame by a fair well where Sir Tristram was wont to be, and the weather\nwas hot, and they alight to drink of that well, and in the mean while\ntheir horses brake loose. Right so Sir Tristram came unto them, and\nfirst he soused Sir Dagonet in that well, and after his squires, and\nthereat laughed the shepherds, and forthwithal he ran after their\nhorses, and brought them again one by one, and right so, wet as they\nwere, he made them leap up and ride their ways. Thus Sir Tristram\nendured there an half year naked, and would never come in town nor\nvillage. The mean while the damsel that Sir Palamides sent to seek Sir\nTristram she went unto Sir Palamides, and told him all the mischief\nthat Sir Tristram endured. Alas, said Sir Palamides, it is great pity\nthat ever so noble a knight should be so mischieved for the love of a\nlady. But nevertheless I will go and seek him, and comfort him and I\nmay. Then a little before that time La Beale Isoud had commanded Sir\nKehydius out of the country of Cornwall. So Sir Kehydius departed with\na dolorous heart. And by adventure he met with Sir Palamides, and they\nenfellowshipped together, and either complained to other of their love,\nthat they loved La Beale Isoud. Now let us, said Sir Palamides, seek\nSir Tristram that loved her as well as we, and let us prove whether we\nmay recover him. So they rode into that forest, and three days and\nthree nights they would never take their lodging, but ever sought Sir\nTristram. And upon a time by adventure they met with king Mark that was\nridden from his men all alone. When they saw him, Sir Palamides knew\nhim, but Sir Kehydius knew him not. Ah, false king, said Sir Palamides,\nit is pity thou hast thy life, for thou art a destroyer of all\nworshipful knights, and by thy mischief, and thy vengeance, thou hast\ndestroyed that most noble knight Sir Tristram de Liones; and therefore\ndefend thee, said Sir Palamides, for thou shalt die this day. That were\nshame, said king Mark, for ye two are armed, and I am unarmed. As for\nthat, said Sir Palamides, I shall find a remedy therefore. Here is a\nknight with me, and thou shalt have his harness. Nay, said king Mark, I\nwill not have ado with you, for cause have ye none to me. For all the\nmisease that Sir Tristram hath was for a letter that he found; for, as\nto me, I did to him no displeasure, and I am full sorry for his disease\nand malady. So when the king had thus excused him, they were friends,\nand king Mark would have had them unto Tintagil, but Sir Palamides\nwould not, but turned unto the realm of Logris, and Sir Kehydius said\nhe would go into Britanny.\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Dagonet again, then when he and his squires were\nupon horseback, he deemed that the shepherds had sent that fool to\narray them so because that they laughed at them, and so they rode unto\nthe keepers of beasts, and all to beat them. Sir Tristram saw them\nbeaten that were wont to give him meat and drink, then he ran thither\nand gat Sir Dagonet by the head, and gave him such a fall to the earth\nthat he bruised him sore, so that he lay still. And then he wrast his\nsword out of his hand and therewith he ran to one of his squires and\nsmote off his head, and the other fled. And so Sir Tristram took his\nway with that sword in his hand, running as he had been wild wood. Then\nSir Dagonet rode to king Mark and told him how he had sped in that\nforest. And therefore, said Sir Dagonet, beware, king Mark, that thou\ncome not about that well in the forest, for there is a fool naked, and\nthat fool and I fool met together, and he had almost slain me. Ah, said\nking Mark, that is Sir Matto le Breune, that fell out of his wit\nbecause he lost his lady. For when Sir Gaheris smote down Sir Matto and\nwon his lady of him, never since was he in his mind, and that was pity,\nfor he was a good knight.\n\n\n CHAP. XX.\n\n_How it was noised how Sir Tristram was dead, and how La Beale Isoud\n would have slain herself._\n\nThen Sir Andred that was cousin unto Sir Tristram, made a lady that was\nhis paramour to say and noise it that she was with Sir Tristram or ever\nhe died. And this tale she brought unto king Mark\u2019s court, that she\nburied him by a well, and that or he died he besought king Mark to make\nhis cousin, Sir Andred, king of the country of Liones, of the which Sir\nTristram was lord of. All this did Sir Andred because he would have had\nSir Tristram\u2019s lands. And when king Mark heard tell that Sir Tristram\nwas dead, he wept and made great dole. But when queen Isoud heard of\nthese tidings, she made such sorrow that she was nigh out of her mind.\nAnd so upon a day she thought to slay herself, and never to live after\nSir Tristram\u2019s death. And so upon a day La Beale Isoud gat a sword\nprivily, and bare it into her garden, and there she pight the sword\nthrough a plum tree up to the hilts, so that it stack fast, and it\nstood breast high. And as she would have run upon the sword and to have\nslain herself, all this espied king Mark, how she kneeled down and\nsaid, Sweet Lord Jesu have mercy upon me, for I may not live after the\ndeath of Sir Tristram de Liones, for he was my first love, and he shall\nbe the last. And with these words came king Mark and took her in his\narms, and then he took up the sword, and bare her away with him into a\nstrong tower, and there he made her to be kept, and watched her surely.\nAnd after that she lay long sick, nigh at the point of death. This mean\nwhile ran Sir Tristram naked in the forest with the sword in his hand,\nand so he came to an hermitage, and there he laid him down and slept,\nand in the mean while the hermit stale away his sword, and laid meat\ndown by him. Thus was he kept there a ten days, and at the last he\ndeparted and came to the herdmen again. And there was a giant in that\ncountry that hight Tauleas, and for fear of Sir Tristram more than\nseven years he durst never much go at large, but for the most part he\nkept him in a sure castle of his own. And so this Tauleas heard tell\nthat Sir Tristram was dead, by the noise of the court of king Mark.\nThen this Tauleas went daily at large. And so it happed upon a day he\ncame to the herdmen wandering and lingering, and there he set him down\nto rest among them. The mean while there came a knight of Cornwall that\nled a lady with him, and his name was Sir Dinant. And when the giant\nsaw him, he went from the herdmen and hid him under a tree, and so the\nknight came to the well, and there he alight to repose him. And as soon\nas he was from his horse, the giant Tauleas came betwixt this knight\nand his horse, and took the horse and lept upon him. So forthwith he\nrode unto Sir Dinant and took him by the collar, and pulled him afore\nhim upon his horse, and there would have stricken off his head. Then\nthe herdmen said unto Sir Tristram, Help yonder knight. Help ye him,\nsaid Sir Tristram. We dare not, said the herdmen. Then Sir Tristram was\nware of the sword of the knight there as it lay, and so thither he ran,\nand took up the sword and strake off Sir Tauleas\u2019s head, and so he went\nhis way to the herdmen again.\n\n\n CHAP. XXI.\n\n_How king Mark found Sir Tristram naked, and made him to be borne home\n to Tintagil, and how he was there known by a brachet._\n\nThen the knight took up the giant\u2019s head, and bare it with him unto\nking Mark, and told him what adventure betid him in the forest, and how\na naked man rescued him from the grimly giant Tauleas. Where had ye\nthis adventure? said king Mark. Forsooth, said Sir Dinant, at the fair\nfountain in your forest where many adventurous knights meet, and there\nis the mad man. Well, said king Mark, I will see that wild man. So\nwithin a day or two king Mark commanded his knights and his hunters,\nthat they should be ready on the morn for to hunt, and on the morn he\nwent unto that forest. And when the king came to that well, he found\nthere lying by that well a fair naked man, and a sword by him. Then\nking Mark blew and straked, and therewith his knights came to him. And\nthen the king commanded his knights to take that naked man with\nfairness, and bring him to my castle. So they did softly and fair, and\ncast mantles upon Sir Tristram, and so led him unto Tintagil; and there\nthey bathed him and washed him, and gave him hot suppings, till they\nhad brought him well to his remembrance. But all this while there was\nno creature that knew Sir Tristram, nor what man he was. So it fell\nupon a day that the queen La Beale Isoud heard of such a man that ran\nnaked in the forest, and how the king had brought him home to the\ncourt. Then La Beale Isoud called unto her dame Bragwaine, and said,\nCome on with me, for we will go see this man that my lord brought from\nthe forest the last day. So they passed forth, and asked where was the\nsick man. And then a squire told the queen that he was in the garden\ntaking his rest, and reposing him against the sun. So when the queen\nlooked upon Sir Tristram she was not remembered of him. But ever she\nsaid unto dame Bragwaine, Me seemeth I should have seen him heretofore\nin many places. But as soon as Sir Tristram saw her he knew her well\nenough, and then he turned away his visage and wept. Then the queen had\nalways a little brachet with her, that Sir Tristram gave her the first\ntime that ever she came into Cornwall, and never would that brachet\ndepart from her, but if Sir Tristram was nigh there as was La Beale\nIsoud; and this brachet was sent from the king\u2019s daughter of France\nunto Sir Tristram for great love. And anon as this little brachet felt\na savour of Sir Tristram, she leaped upon him, and licked his cheeks\nand his ears, and then she whined and quested, and she smelled at his\nfeet and at his hands, and on all parts of his body that she might come\nto. Ah, my lady, said dame Bragwaine unto La Beale Isoud, alas, alas!\nsaid she, I see it is mine own lord, Sir Tristram. And thereupon Isoud\nfell down in a swoon, and so lay a great while; and when she might\nspeak, she said, My lord Sir Tristram, blessed be God ye have your\nlife; and now I am sure ye shall be discovered by this little brachet,\nfor she will never leave you; and also I am sure as soon as my lord\nking Mark do know you, he will banish you out of the country of\nCornwall, or else he will destroy you. Therefore mine own lord, grant\nking Mark his will, and then draw you unto the court of king Arthur,\nfor there are ye beloved. And ever when I may I shall send unto you,\nand when ye list ye may come to me, and at all times early and late I\nwill be at your commandment to live as poor a life as ever did queen or\nlady. O madam, said Sir Tristram, go from me, for mickle anger and\ndanger have I escaped for your love.\n\n\n CHAP. XXII.\n\n_How king Mark, by the advice of his council, banished Sir Tristram out\n of Cornwall the term of ten years._\n\nThen the queen departed, but the brachet would not from him. And\ntherewithal came king Mark, and the brachet sat upon him, and bayed at\nthem all. Therewithal Sir Andred spake and said, Sir, this is Sir\nTristram, I see by the brachet. Nay, said the king, I cannot suppose\nthat. So the king asked him upon his faith what he was, and what was\nhis name. Truly, said he, my name is Sir Tristram de Liones, now do by\nme what ye list. Ah, said king Mark, me repenteth of your recovery. And\nthen he let call his barons to judge Sir Tristram to death. Then many\nof his barons would not assent thereto, and in especial Sir Dinas the\nseneschal and Sir Fergus. And so by the advice of them all Sir Tristram\nwas banished out of the country for ten year, and thereupon he took his\noath upon a book before the king and his barons. And so he was made to\ndepart out of the country of Cornwall, and there were many barons\nbrought him into his ship, of the which some were his friends, and some\nhis foes. And in the mean while there came a knight of king Arthur\u2019s,\nhis name was Dinadan, and his coming was to seek after Sir Tristram.\nThen they shewed him where he was armed at all points, going to the\nship. Now, fair knight, said Sir Dinadan, or ye pass this court, that\nye will just with me I require you. With a good will, said Sir\nTristram, and these lords will give me leave. Then the barons granted\nthereto, and so they ran together, and there Sir Tristram gave Sir\nDinadan a fall. And then he prayed Sir Tristram to give him leave to go\nin his fellowship. Ye shall be right welcome, said then Sir Tristram.\nAnd so they took their horses and rode to their ships together. And\nwhen Sir Tristram was in the sea, he said, Greet well king Mark and all\nmine enemies, and say them I will come again when I may. And well am I\nrewarded for the fighting with Sir Marhaus, and delivering all this\ncountry from servage, and well I am rewarded for the fetching and costs\nof La Beale Isoud out of Ireland, and the danger that I was in first\nand last, and by the way coming home what danger I had to bring again\nqueen Isoud from the castle Pluere. And well am I rewarded when I\nfought with Sir Bleoberis for Sir Segwarides\u2019 wife. And well am I\nrewarded when I fought with Sir Blamor de Ganis for king Anguish,\nfather unto La Beale Isoud. And well am I rewarded when I smote down\nthe good knight Sir Lamorak de Galis at king Mark\u2019s request. And well\nam I rewarded when I fought with the king with the hundred knights, and\nthe king of Northgalis, and both these would have put his land in\nservage, and by me they were put to a rebuke. And well am I rewarded\nfor the slaying of Tauleas the mighty giant, and many more deeds have I\ndone for him, and now have I my warison. And tell king Mark that many\nnoble knights of the Table Round have spared the barons of this country\nfor my sake. Also am I not well rewarded when I fought with the good\nknight Sir Palamides, and rescued queen Isoud from him. And at that\ntime king Mark said afore all his barons, I should have been better\nrewarded. And forthwithal he took the sea.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIII.\n\n_How a damsel sought help to help Sir Launcelot against thirty knights,\n and how Sir Tristram fought with them._\n\nAnd at the next landing, fast by the sea, there met with Sir Tristram\nand with Sir Dinadan Sir Ector de Maris and Sir Bors de Ganis. And\nthere Sir Ector justed with Sir Dinadan and he smote him and his horse\ndown. And then Sir Tristram would have justed with Sir Bors, and Sir\nBors said he would not just with no Cornish knights, for they are not\ncalled men of worship. And all this was done upon a bridge. And with\nthis came Sir Bleoberis and Sir Driant, and Sir Bleoberis proffered to\njust with Sir Tristram, and there Sir Tristram smote down Sir\nBleoberis. Then said Sir Bors de Ganis, I wist never Cornish knight of\nso great valour nor so valiant as that knight that beareth the\ntrappours embroidered with crowns. And then Sir Tristram and Sir\nDinadan departed from them into a forest, and there met them a damsel\nthat came for the love of Sir Launcelot to seek after some noble\nknights of king Arthur\u2019s court for to rescue Sir Launcelot. And so Sir\nLauncelot was ordained, for by the treason of queen Morgan le Fay to\nhave slain Sir Launcelot, and for that cause she ordained thirty\nknights for to lie in a wait for Sir Launcelot, and this damsel knew\nthis treason. And for this cause the damsel came for to seek noble\nknights to help Sir Launcelot. For that night, or the day after, Sir\nLauncelot should come where these thirty knights were. And so this\ndamsel met with Sir Bors, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Ector, and Sir Driant, and\nthere she told them all four of the treason of Morgan le Fay. And then\nthey promised her that they would be nigh where Sir Launcelot should\nmeet with the thirty knights, and if so be they set upon him we will do\nrescues as we can. So the damsel departed, and by adventure the damsel\nmet with Sir Tristram and with Sir Dinadan, and there the damsel told\nthem all the treason that was ordained for Sir Launcelot. Fair damsel,\nsaid Sir Tristram, bring me to that same place where they should meet\nwith Sir Launcelot. Then said Sir Dinadan, What will ye do? it is not\nfor us to fight with thirty knights, and wit you well I will not\nthereof, as to match one knight two or three is enough, and they be\nmen. But for to match fifteen knights, that will I never undertake. Fie\nfor shame, said Sir Tristram, do but your part. Nay, said Sir Dinadan,\nI will not thereof, but if ye will lend me your shield, for ye bear a\nshield of Cornwall, and for the cowardice that is named to the knights\nof Cornwall, by your shields ye be ever forborn. Nay, said Sir\nTristram, I will not depart from my shield for her sake that gave it\nme. But one thing, said Sir Tristram, I promise thee Sir Dinadan, but\nif thou wilt promise me to abide with me, here I shall slay thee: for I\ndesire no more of thee but to answer one knight, and if thy heart will\nnot serve thee, stand by and look upon me and them. Sir, said Sir\nDinadan, I promise you to look upon and to do what I may to save\nmyself, but I would I had not met with you. So then anon these thirty\nknights came fast by these four knights, and they were ware of them,\nand either of other. And so these thirty knights let them pass for this\ncause, that they would not wrath them if cause be that they had ado\nwith Sir Launcelot, and the four knights let them pass to this intent,\nthat they would see and behold what they would do with Sir Launcelot.\nAnd so the thirty knights past on, and came by Sir Tristram and Sir\nDinadan. And then Sir Tristram cried on high, Lo here is a knight\nagainst you for the love of Sir Launcelot. And there he slew two with\none spear, and ten with his sword. And then came in Sir Dinadan, and he\ndid passing well. And so of the thirty knights there went but ten away,\nand they fled. All this battle saw Sir Bors de Ganis, and his three\nfellows. And then they saw well it was the same knight that justed with\nthem at the bridge. Then they took their horses and rode unto Sir\nTristram, and praised him, and thanked him of his good deeds, and they\nall desired Sir Tristram to go with them to their lodging. And he said\nnay, he would not go to no lodging. Then they all four knights prayed\nhim to tell them his name. Fair lords, said Sir Tristram, as at this\ntime I will not tell you my name.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIV.\n\n_How Sir Tristram and Sir Dinadan came to a lodging where they must\n just with two knights._\n\nThen Sir Tristram and Sir Dinadan rode forth their way till they came\nto the shepherds and to the herdmen, and there they asked them if they\nknew any lodging or harbour there nigh hand. Forsooth sirs, said the\nherdmen, hereby is good lodging in a castle, but there is such a custom\nthat there shall no knight be harboured but if he just with two\nknights, and if he be but one knight he must just with two. And as ye\nbe therein, soon shall ye be matched. There is shrewd harbour, said Sir\nDinadan, lodge where ye will, for I will not lodge there. Fie for\nshame, said Sir Tristram, are ye not a knight of the Table Round,\nwherefore ye may not with your worship refuse your lodging. Not so,\nsaid the herdmen, for and ye be beaten and have the worse ye shall not\nbe lodged there, and if ye beat them ye shall be well harboured. Ah,\nsaid Sir Dinadan, they are two sure knights. Then Sir Dinadan would not\nlodge there in no manner, but as Sir Tristram required him of his\nknighthood, and so they rode thither. And to make short tale, Sir\nTristram and Sir Dinadan smote them down both, and so they entered into\nthe castle, and had good cheer as they could think or devise. And when\nthey were unarmed, and thought to be merry and in good rest, there came\nin at the gates Sir Palamides and Sir Gaheris, requiring to have the\ncustom of the castle. What array is this? said Sir Dinadan, I would\nhave my rest. That may not be, said Sir Tristram; now must we needs\ndefend the custom of this castle, insomuch as we have the better of the\nlords of this castle, and therefore, said Sir Tristram, needs must ye\nmake you ready. In the devil\u2019s name, said Sir Dinadan, came I into your\ncompany. And so they made them ready. And Sir Gaheris encountered with\nSir Tristram, and Sir Gaheris had a fall, and Sir Palamides encountered\nwith Sir Dinadan, and Sir Dinadan had a fall; then was it fall for\nfall. So then must they fight on foot. That would not Sir Dinadan, for\nhe was so sore bruised of the fall that Sir Palamides gave him. Then\nSir Tristram unlaced Sir Dinadan\u2019s helm, and prayed him to help him. I\nwill not, said Sir Dinadan, for I am sore wounded of the thirty knights\nthat we had but late ago to do withal. But ye fare, said Sir Dinadan\nunto Sir Tristram, as a mad man, and as a man that is out of his mind,\nthat would cast himself away, and I may curse the time that ever I saw\nyou. For in all the world are not two such knights that be so wood as\nis Sir Launcelot and ye Sir Tristram: for once I fell in the fellowship\nof Sir Launcelot as I have now done with you, and he set me a work that\na quarter of a year I kept my bed. Defend me, said Sir Dinadan, from\nsuch two knights, and specially from your fellowship. Then, said Sir\nTristram, I will fight with them both. Then Sir Tristram bad them come\nforth both, for I will fight with you. Then Sir Palamides and Sir\nGaheris dressed them and smote at them both. Then Dinadan smote at Sir\nGaheris a stroke or two, and turned from him. Nay, said Sir Palamides,\nit is too much shame for us two knights to fight with one. And then he\ndid bid Sir Gaheris stand aside with that knight that hath no list to\nfight. Then they rode together and fought long, and at the last Sir\nTristram doubled his strokes and drove Sir Palamides aback more than\nthree strides. And then by one assent Sir Gaheris and Sir Dinadan went\nbetwixt them and departed them in sunder. And then by assent of Sir\nTristram, they would have lodged together. But Sir Dinadan would not\nlodge in that castle, and then he cursed the time that ever he came in\ntheir fellowship. And so he took his horse and his harness and\ndeparted. Then Sir Tristram prayed the lords of that castle to lend him\na man to bring him to a lodging. And so they did, and overtook Sir\nDinadan, and rode to their lodging two miles thence with a good man in\na priory, and there they were well at ease. And that same night, Sir\nBors, and Sir Bleoberis, and Sir Ector, and Sir Driant, abode still in\nthe same place there as Sir Tristram fought with the thirty knights,\nand there they met with Sir Launcelot the same night, and had made\npromise to lodge with Sir Colgrevance the same night.\n\n\n CHAP. XXV.\n\n_How Sir Tristram justed with Sir Kay and Sir Sagramor le Desirous, and\n how Sir Gawaine turned Sir Tristram from Morgan le Fay._\n\nBut anon as the noble knight Sir Launcelot heard of the shield of\nCornwall, then wist he well that it was Sir Tristram that fought with\nhis enemies. And then Sir Launcelot praised Sir Tristram, and called\nhim the man of most worship in the world. So there was a knight in that\npriory that hight Pellinore, and he desired to wit the name of Sir\nTristram, but in no wise he could not. And so Sir Tristram departed and\nleft Sir Dinadan in the priory, for he was so weary and so sore bruised\nthat he might not ride. Then this knight, Sir Pellinore, said to Sir\nDinadan, Sithen that ye will not tell me that knight\u2019s name, I will\nride after him and make him to tell me his name, or he shall die\ntherefore. Beware, sir knight, said Sir Dinadan, for and ye follow him\nye shall repent it. So that knight, Sir Pellinore, rode after Sir\nTristram, and required him of justs. Then Sir Tristram smote him down,\nand wounded him through the shoulder, and so he past on his way. And on\nthe next day following Sir Tristram met with pursuivants, and they told\nhim that there was made a great cry of tournament between king Carados\nof Scotland and the king of North Wales, and either should just against\nother at the Castle of Maidens. And these pursuivants sought all the\ncountry after the good knights, and in especial king Carados let make\nseeking for Sir Launcelot, and the king of Northgalis let seek after\nSir Tristram de Liones. And at that time Sir Tristram thought to be at\nthat justs, and so by adventure they met with Sir Kay the seneschal and\nSir Sagramor le Desirous, and Sir Kay required Sir Tristram to just,\nand Sir Tristram in a manner refused him, because he would not be hurt\nnor bruised against the great justs that should be before the Castle of\nMaidens, and therefore he thought to repose him, and to rest him. And\nalway Sir Kay cried, Sir knight of Cornwall, just with me, or else\nyield thee to me as recreant. When Sir Tristram heard him say so, he\nturned to him, and then Sir Kay refused him, and turned his back. Then\nSir Tristram said, As I find thee shall I take thee. Then Sir Kay\nturned with evil will, and Sir Tristram smote Sir Kay down, and so he\nrode forth. Then Sir Sagramor le Desirous rode after Sir Tristram and\nmade him to just with him. And there Sir Tristram smote down Sir\nSagramor le Desirous from his horse, and rode his way, and the same day\nhe met with a damsel that told him that he should win great worship of\na knight adventurous, that did much harm in all that country.\n\nWhen Sir Tristram heard her say so, he was glad to go with her to win\nworship. So Sir Tristram rode with that damsel a six mile, and then met\nhim Sir Gawaine, and therewithal Sir Gawaine knew the damsel, that she\nwas a damsel of queen Morgan le Fay. Then Sir Gawaine understood that\nshe led that knight to some mischief. Fair knight, said Sir Gawaine,\nwhither ride you now with that damsel? Sir, said Sir Tristram, I wot\nnot whither I shall ride, but as the damsel will lead me. Sir, said Sir\nGawaine, ye shall not ride with her, for she and her lady did never\ngood, but ill. And then Sir Gawaine pulled out his sword, and said,\nDamsel, but if thou tell me anon for what cause thou leadest this\nknight with thee, thou shalt die for it right anon. I know all your\nlady\u2019s treason and yours. Mercy, Sir Gawaine, she said, and if ye will\nsave my life I will tell you. Say on, said Sir Gawaine, and thou shalt\nhave thy life. Sir, she said, queen Morgan le Fay, my lady, hath\nordained a thirty ladies to seek and espy after Sir Launcelot or Sir\nTristram, and by the trains of these ladies, who that may first meet\nwith any of these two knights, they should turn them unto Morgan le\nFay\u2019s castle, saying that they should do deeds of worship, and if any\nof those two knights came there, there be thirty knights lying and\nwatching in a tower to wait upon Sir Launcelot, or upon Sir Tristram.\nFie for shame, said Sir Gawaine, that ever such false treason should be\nwrought or used in a queen and a king\u2019s sister, and a king and queen\u2019s\ndaughter.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVI.\n\n_How Sir Tristram and Sir Gawaine rode to have fought against the\n thirty knights, but they durst not come out._\n\nSir, said Sir Gawaine, will ye stand with me, and we will see the\nmalice of these thirty knights? Sir, said Sir Tristram, go ye to them\nand it please you, and ye shall see I will not fail you, for it is not\nlong ago since I and a fellow met with thirty knights of that queen\u2019s\nfellowship; and God speed us so that we may win worship. So then Sir\nGawaine and Sir Tristram rode toward the castle where Morgan le Fay\nwas, and ever Sir Gawaine deemed well that he was Sir Tristram de\nLiones, because he heard that two knights had slain and beaten thirty\nknights. And when they came afore the castle Sir Gawaine spake on high,\nand said, Queen Morgan le Fay, send out your knights that ye have laid\nin a watch for Sir Launcelot, and for Sir Tristram. Now, said Sir\nGawaine, I know your false treason, and through all places where that I\nride men shall know of your false treason. And now let see Sir Gawaine\nwhether ye dare come out of your castle ye thirty knights. Then the\nqueen spake and all the thirty knights at once, and said, Sir Gawaine,\nfull well wotest thou what thou dost and sayest; for we know thee\npassing well; but all that thou speakest and dost thou sayest it upon\npride of that good knight that is there with thee. For there be some of\nus that know full well the hands of that knight over all well, and wit\nthou well, Sir Gawaine, it is more for his sake than for thine that we\nwill not come out of this castle. For wit ye well, Sir Gawaine, that\nknight that beareth the arms of Cornwall we know him, and what he is.\nThen Sir Gawaine and Sir Tristram departed, and rode on their ways a\nday or two together, and there by adventure they met with Sir Kay and\nSir Sagramor le Desirous. And then they were glad of Sir Gawaine, and\nhe of them, but they wist not what he was with the shield of Cornwall\nbut by deeming. And thus they rode together a day or two. And then they\nwere ware of Sir Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9 chasing a lady for to have slain\nher, for he had slain her lover before. Hold you all still, said Sir\nGawaine, and shew none of you forth, and ye shall see me reward yonder\nfalse knight, for and he espy you he is so well horsed that he will\nescape away. And then Sir Gawaine rode betwixt Sir Breuse and the lady,\nand said, False knight, leave her and have ado with me. When Sir Breuse\nsaw no more but Sir Gawaine he feutred his spear, and Sir Gawaine\nagainst him, and there Sir Breuse overthrew Sir Gawaine, and then he\nrode over him and overthwart him twenty times, to have destroyed him;\nand when Sir Tristram saw him do so villainous a deed, he hurled out\nagainst him. And when Sir Breuse saw him with the shield of Cornwall,\nhe knew him well that it was Sir Tristram, and then he fled, and Sir\nTristram followed after him. And Sir Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9 was so horsed\nthat he went his way quite. And Sir Tristram followed him long, for he\nwould fain have been avenged upon him. And so when he had long chased\nhim he saw a fair well, and thither he rode to repose him, and tied his\nhorse to a tree.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVII.\n\n_How damsel Bragwaine found Tristram sleeping by a well, and how she\n delivered letters to him from La Beale Isoud._\n\nAnd then he pulled off his helm, and washed his visage and his hands,\nand so he fell on sleep. In the mean while came a damsel that had\nsought Sir Tristram many ways and days within this land. And when she\ncame to the well she looked upon him, and had forgotten him as in\nremembrance of Sir Tristram, but by his horse she knew him, that hight\nPasse-Brewel, that had been Sir Tristram\u2019s horse many years. For when\nhe was mad in the forest, Sir Fergus kept him. So this lady dame\nBragwaine abode still till he was awake. So when she saw him wake she\nsaluted him, and he her again, for either knew other of old\nacquaintance. Then she told him how she had sought him long and broad,\nand there she told him how she had letters from queen La Beale Isoud.\nThen anon Sir Tristram read them, and wit ye well he was glad, for\ntherein was many a piteous complaint. Then Sir Tristram said, Lady\nBragwaine, ye shall ride with me till that tournament be done at the\nCastle of Maidens; and then shall ye bear letters and tidings with you.\nAnd then Sir Tristram took his horse and sought lodging, and there he\nmet with a good ancient knight that prayed him to lodge with him. Right\nso came Gouvernail unto Sir Tristram, that was glad of that lady. So\nthis old knight\u2019s name was Sir Pellounes, and he told of the great\ntournament that should be at the Castle of Maidens. And there Sir\nLauncelot and thirty-two knights of his blood had ordained shields of\nCornwall. And right so there came one unto Sir Pellounes and told him\nthat Sir Persides de Bloise was come home, and then that knight held up\nhis hands and thanked God of his coming home, and there Sir Pellounes\ntold Sir Tristram that in two years he had not seen his son Sir\nPersides. Sir, said Sir Tristram, I know your son well enough for a\ngood knight. So on a time Sir Tristram and Sir Persides came to their\nlodging both at once, and so they unarmed them, and put upon them their\nclothing. And then these two knights each welcomed other. And when\nPersides understood that Sir Tristram was of Cornwall, he said he was\nonce in Cornwall,\u2014and there I justed afore king Mark, and so it happed\nme at that time to overthrow ten knights, and then came to me Sir\nTristram de Liones and overthrew me, and took my lady from me, and that\nI shall never forget, but I shall remember me and ever I see my time.\nAh, said Sir Tristram, now I understand that ye hate Sir Tristram. What\ndeem ye, ween ye that Sir Tristram is not able to withstand your\nmalice? Yes, said Sir Persides, I know well that Sir Tristram is a\nnoble knight, and a much better knight than I, yet shall I not owe him\nmy good will. Right as they stood thus talking at a bay window of that\ncastle, they saw many knights riding to and fro toward the tournament.\nAnd then was Sir Tristram ware of a likely knight riding upon a great\nblack horse, and a black covered shield. What knight is that, said Sir\nTristram, with the black horse and the black shield? He seemeth to be a\ngood knight. I know him well, said Sir Persides, he is one of the best\nknights of the world. Then is it Sir Launcelot, said Sir Tristram. Nay,\nsaid Sir Persides, it is Sir Palamides, that is yet unchristened.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVIII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram had a fall of Sir Palamides, and how Launcelot\n overthrew two knights._\n\nThen they saw much people of the country salute Sir Palamides. And\nwithin a while after there came a squire of the castle that told Sir\nPellounes, that was lord of that castle, that a knight with a black\nshield had smitten down thirteen knights. Fair brother, said Sir\nTristram unto Sir Persides, let us cast upon us our cloaks, and let us\ngo see the play. Not so, said Sir Persides, we will not go like knaves\nthither, but we will ride like men and good knights to withstand our\nenemies. So they armed them, and took their horses, and great spears,\nand thither they went, there as many knights assayed themselves before\nthe tournament. And anon Sir Palamides saw Sir Persides, and then he\nsent a squire unto him, and said, Go thou to the yonder knight with a\ngreen shield and therein a lion of gold, and say to him I require him\nto just with me, and tell him that my name is Sir Palamides. When Sir\nPersides understood that request of Sir Palamides he made him ready.\nAnd there anon they met together, but Sir Persides had a fall. Then Sir\nTristram dressed him to be revenged upon Sir Palamides. And that saw\nSir Palamides, that was ready, and so was not Sir Tristram, and took\nhim at advantage, and smote him over his horse tail when he had no\nspear in his rest. Then start up Sir Tristram, and took his horse\nlightly, and was wroth out of measure, and sore ashamed of that fall.\nThen Sir Tristram sent unto Sir Palamides by Gouvernail his squire, and\nprayed him to just with him at his request. Nay, said Sir Palamides, as\nat this time I will not just with that knight, for I know him better\nthan he weeneth. And if he be wroth, he may right it to-morn at the\nCastle of Maidens, where he may see me and many other knights. With\nthat came Sir Dinadan, and when he saw Sir Tristram wroth he list not\nto jest. Lo, said Sir Dinadan, here may a man prove, be a man never so\ngood yet may he have a fall, and he was never so wise but he might be\noverseen, and he rideth well that never fell. So Sir Tristram was\npassing wroth, and said to Sir Persides and Sir Dinadan, I will revenge\nme. Right so as they stood talking there, there came by Sir Tristram a\nlikely knight, riding passing soberly and heavily, with a black shield.\nWhat knight is that? said Sir Tristram unto Sir Persides. I know him\nwell, said Sir Persides, for his name is Sir Briant of North Wales: so\nhe past on among other knights of North Wales. And there came in Sir\nLauncelot du Lake with a shield of the arms of Cornwall, and he sent a\nsquire unto Sir Briant, and required him to just with him. Well, said\nSir Briant, since I am required to just I will do what I may. And there\nSir Launcelot smote down Sir Briant from his horse a great fall. And\nthen Sir Tristram marvelled what knight he was that bare the shield of\nCornwall. Whatsoever he be, said Sir Dinadan, I warrant you he is of\nking Ban\u2019s blood, the which be knights of the most noble prowess in the\nworld, for to account so many for so many. Then there came two knights\nof Northgalis, the one hight Hew de la Montaine, and the other Sir\nMadok de la Montaine, and they challenged Sir Launcelot foot hot. Sir\nLauncelot not refusing them, but made him ready, with one spear he\nsmote them down both over their horse croups, and so Sir Launcelot rode\nhis way. By my faith, said Sir Tristram, he is a good knight that\nbeareth the shield of Cornwall, and me seemeth he rideth in the best\nmanner that ever I saw knight ride. Then the king of Northgalis rode\nunto Sir Palamides, and prayed him heartily for his sake to just with\nthat knight that hath done us of Northgalis despite. Sir, said Sir\nPalamides, I am full loth to have ado with that knight, and cause why\nis for as to-morn the great tournament shall be, and therefore I will\nkeep myself fresh by my will. Nay, said the king of Northgalis, I pray\nyou require him of justs. Sir, said Sir Palamides, I will just at your\nrequest, and require that knight to just with me; and often I have seen\na man have a fall at his own request.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIX.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot justed with Palamides and overthrew him, and after\n he was assailed with twelve knights._\n\nThen Sir Palamides sent unto Sir Launcelot a squire, and required him\nof justs. Fair fellow, said Sir Launcelot, tell me thy lord\u2019s name.\nSir, said the squire, my lord\u2019s name is Sir Palamides the good knight.\nIn good hour, said Sir Launcelot, for there is no knight that I saw\nthis seven years that I had lever have ado withal than with him. And so\neither knights made them ready with two great spears. Nay, said Sir\nDinadan, ye shall see that Sir Palamides will quit him right well. It\nmay be so, said Sir Tristram, but I undertake that knight with the\nshield of Cornwall shall give him a fall. I believe it not, said Sir\nDinadan. Right so they spurred their horses, and feutred their spears,\nand either hit other, and Sir Palamides brake a spear upon Sir\nLauncelot, and he sat and moved not, but Sir Launcelot smote him so\nlightly that he made his horse to avoid the saddle, and the stroke\nbrake his shield and the hauberk, and had he not fallen he had been\nslain. How now, said Sir Tristram, I wist well by the manner of their\nriding both that Sir Palamides should have a fall. Right so Sir\nLauncelot rode his way, and rode to a well to drink and to repose him,\nand they of Northgalis espied him whither he rode, and then there\nfollowed him twelve knights for to have mischieved him, for this cause,\nthat upon the morn, at the tournament of the Castle of Maidens, that he\nshould not win the victory. So they came upon Sir Launcelot suddenly,\nand scarcely he might put upon him his helm and take his horse but they\nwere in hands with him. And then Sir Launcelot gat his spear and rode\nthrough them, and there he slew a knight, and brake his spear in his\nbody. Then he drew his sword and smote upon the right hand and upon the\nleft hand, so that within a few strokes he had slain other three\nknights, and the remnant that abode he wounded them sore, all that did\nabide. Thus Sir Launcelot escaped from his enemies of North Wales, and\nthen he rode forth on his way to a friend, and lodged him till on the\nmorn, for he would not the first day have ado in the tournament,\nbecause of his great labour. And on the first day he was with king\nArthur, there as he was set on high upon a scaffold, to discern who was\nbest worthy of his deeds. So Sir Launcelot was with king Arthur, and\njusted not the first day.\n\n\n CHAP. XXX.\n\n_How Sir Tristram behaved him the first day of the tournament, and\n there he had the prize._\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Tristram de Liones, that commanded Gouvernail his\nservant to ordain him a black shield with none other remembrance\ntherein. And so Sir Persides and Sir Tristram departed from their host\nSir Pellounes and they rode early toward the tournament, and then they\ndrew them to king Carados\u2019 side of Scotland: and anon knights began the\nfield, what of the king of Northgalis\u2019 part, and what of king Carados\u2019\npart, and there began great party. Then there was hurling and rashing.\nRight so came in Sir Persides and Sir Tristram, and so they did fare\nthat they put the king of Northgalis aback. Then came in Sir Bleoberis\nde Ganis and Sir Gaheris with them of Northgalis, and then was Sir\nPersides smitten down and almost slain, for more than forty horsemen\nwent over him. For Sir Bleoberis did great deeds of arms, and Sir\nGaheris failed him not. When Sir Tristram beheld them, and saw them do\nsuch deeds of arms, he marvelled what they were. Also Sir Tristram\nthought shame that Sir Persides was so done to; and then he gat a great\nspear in his hand, and then he rode to Sir Gaheris and smote him down\nfrom his horse. And then was Bleoberis wroth, and gat a spear and rode\nagainst Sir Tristram in great ire, and there Sir Tristram met with him,\nand smote Sir Bleoberis from his horse. So then the king with the\nhundred knights was wroth, and he horsed Sir Bleoberis and Sir Gaheris\nagain, and there began a great meddle; and ever Sir Tristram held them\npassing short, and ever Sir Bleoberis was passing busy upon Sir\nTristram. And there came Sir Dinadan against Sir Tristram, and Sir\nTristram gave him such a buffet that he swooned in his saddle. Then\nanon Sir Dinadan came to Sir Tristram, and said, Sir, I know thee\nbetter than thou weenest, but here I promise thee my troth I will never\ncome against thee more, for I promise thee that sword of thine shall\nnever come on my helm. With that came Sir Bleoberis, and Sir Tristram\ngave him such a buffet that down he laid his head: and then he caught\nhim so sore by the helm that he pulled him under his horse feet. And\nthen king Arthur blew to lodging. Then Sir Tristram departed to his\npavilion, and Sir Dinadan rode with him. And Sir Persides and king\nArthur then, and the kings upon both parties, marvelled what knight\nthat was with the black shield. Many said their advice, and some knew\nhim for Sir Tristram, and held their peace, and would nought say. So\nthat first day king Arthur and all the kings and lords that were judges\ngave Sir Tristram the prize, how be it they knew him not, but named him\nthe knight with the black shield.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXI.\n\n_How Sir Tristram returned against king Arthur\u2019s party, because he saw\n Sir Palamides on that party._\n\nThen upon the morn Sir Palamides returned from the king of Northgalis,\nand rode to king Arthur\u2019s side, where was king Carados, and the king of\nIreland, and Sir Launcelot\u2019s kin, and Sir Gawaine\u2019s kin. So Sir\nPalamides sent the damsel unto Sir Tristram that he sent to seek him\nwhen he was out of his mind in the forest; and this damsel asked Sir\nTristram what he was, and what was his name. As for that, said Sir\nTristram, tell Sir Palamides he shall not wit as at this time, unto the\ntime I have broken two spears upon him. But let him wit thus much, said\nSir Tristram, that I am the same knight that he smote down in over\nevening at the tournament, and tell him plainly, on what part that Sir\nPalamides be I will be on the contrary part. Sir, said the damsel, ye\nshall understand that Sir Palamides will be on king Arthur\u2019s side,\nwhere the most noble knights of the world be. Then, said Sir Tristram,\nwill I be with the king of Northgalis, because Sir Palamides will be on\nking Arthur\u2019s side, and else I would not but for his sake. So when king\nArthur was come they blew unto the field, and then there began a great\nparty, and so king Carados justed with the king with the hundred\nknights, and there king Carados had a fall; then there was hurling and\nrashing, and right so came in knights of king Arthur\u2019s, and they bare\nback the king of Northgalis\u2019 knights. Then Sir Tristram came in, and\nbegan so roughly and so bigly that there was none might withstand him,\nand thus Sir Tristram endured long. And at the last Sir Tristram fell\namong the fellowship of king Ban, and there fell upon him Sir Bors de\nGanis, and Sir Ector de Maris, and Sir Blamor de Ganis, and many other\nknights. And then Sir Tristram smote on the right hand and on the left\nhand, that all lords and ladies spake of his noble deeds. But at the\nlast Sir Tristram should have had the worse had not the king with the\nhundred knights been. And then he came with his fellowship and rescued\nSir Tristram, and brought him away from those knights that bare the\nshields of Cornwall. And then Sir Tristram saw another fellowship by\nthemselves, and there were a forty knights together, and Sir Kay the\nseneschal was their governor. Then Sir Tristram rode in amongst them,\nand there he smote down Sir Kay from his horse, and there he fared\namong those knights like a grey hound among conies. Then Sir Launcelot\nfound a knight that was sore wounded upon the head. Sir, said Sir\nLauncelot, who wounded you so sore? Sir, he said, a knight that beareth\na black shield, and I may curse the time that ever I met with him, for\nhe is a devil and no man. So Sir Launcelot departed from him, and\nthought to meet with Sir Tristram, and so he rode with his sword drawn\nin his hand to seek Sir Tristram, and then he espied him how he hurled\nhere and there, and at every stroke Sir Tristram well nigh smote down a\nknight. O mercy, said the king, sith the time I bare arms saw I never\nno knight do so marvellous deeds of arms. And if I should set upon this\nknight, said Sir Launcelot to himself, I did shame to myself; and\ntherewithal Sir Launcelot put up his sword. And then the king with the\nhundred knights and a hundred more of North Wales set upon the twenty\nof Sir Launcelot\u2019s kin: and they twenty knights held them ever together\nas wild swine, and none would fail other. And so when Sir Tristram\nbeheld the noblesse of these twenty knights, he marvelled of their good\ndeeds, for he saw by their fare and by their rule, that they had lever\ndie than avoid the field. Now, said Sir Tristram, well may he be\nvaliant and full of prowess that hath such a sort of noble knights unto\nhis kin, and full like is he to be a noble man that is their leader and\ngovernor. He meant it by Sir Launcelot du Lake. So when Sir Tristram\nhad beholden them long, he thought shame to see two hundred knights\nbattering upon twenty knights. Then Sir Tristram rode unto the king\nwith the hundred knights and said, Sir, leave your fighting with those\ntwenty knights, for ye win no worship of them, ye be so many, and they\nso few; and wit ye well they will not out of the field, I see by their\ncheer and countenance; and worship get ye none and ye slay them.\nTherefore leave your fighting with them, for I to increase my worship I\nwill ride to the twenty knights and help them with all my might and\npower. Nay, said the king with the hundred knights, ye shall not do so.\nNow I see your courage and courtesy I will withdraw my knights for your\npleasure, for evermore a good knight will favour another, and like will\ndraw to like.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram found Palamides by a well, and brought him with him\n to his lodging._\n\nThen the king with the hundred knights withdrew his knights. And all\nthis while, and long tofore, Sir Launcelot had watched upon Sir\nTristram with a very purpose to have fellowshipped with him. And then\nsuddenly Sir Tristram, Sir Dinadan, and Gouvernail his man, rode their\nway into the forest, that no man perceived where they went. So then\nking Arthur blew unto lodging, and gave the king of Northgalis the\nprize, because Sir Tristram was upon his side. Then Sir Launcelot rode\nhere and there, so wood as lion that wanted his fill, because he had\nlost Sir Tristram, and so he returned unto king Arthur. And then in all\nthe field was a noise that with the wind it might be heard two mile\nthence, how the lords and ladies cried. The knight with the black\nshield hath won the field. Alas, said king Arthur, where is that knight\nbecome? It is shame to all those in the field so to let him escape away\nfrom you; but with gentleness and courtesy ye might have brought him\nunto me to the Castle of Maidens. Then the noble king Arthur went unto\nhis knights, and comforted them in the best wise that he could, and\nsaid, My fair fellows be not dismayed, howbeit ye have lost the field\nthis day. And many were hurt and sore wounded, and many were whole. My\nfellows, said king Arthur, look that ye be of good cheer, for to-morrow\nI will be in the field with you, and revenge you of your enemies.\n\nSo that night king Arthur and his knights reposed themselves. The\ndamsel that came from La Beale Isoud unto Sir Tristram, all the while\nthe tournament was a doing she was with queen Guenever, and ever the\nqueen asked her for what cause she came into that country. Madam, she\nanswered, I come for none other cause but from my lady La Beale Isoud\nto wit of your welfare. For in no wise she would not tell the queen\nthat she came for Sir Tristram\u2019s sake. So this lady, dame Bragwaine,\ntook her leave of queen Guenever, and she rode after Sir Tristram. And\nas she rode through the forest she heard a great cry, then she\ncommanded her squire to go into that forest to wit what was that noise.\nAnd so he came to a well, and there he found a knight bound to a tree,\ncrying as he had been wood, and his horse and his harness standing by\nhim. And when he espied the squire, therewith he started and brake\nhimself loose, and took his sword in his hand, and ran to have slain\nthat squire. Then he took his horse and fled all that ever he might\nunto dame Bragwaine again, and told her of his adventure. Then she rode\nunto Sir Tristram\u2019s pavilion, and told Sir Tristram what adventure she\nhad found in the forest. Alas, said Sir Tristram, upon my head there is\nsome good knight at mischief. Then Sir Tristram took his horse and his\nsword and rode thither, and there he heard how the knight complained\nunto himself, and said, I, woeful knight, Sir Palamides, what\nmisadventure befalleth me, that thus am defoiled with falsehood and\ntreason, through Sir Bors and Sir Ector. Alas, he said, why live I so\nlong! And then he gat his sword in his hands, and made many strange\nsigns and tokens, and so through his raging he threw his sword into\nthat fountain. Then Sir Palamides wailed and wrang his hands. And at\nthe last, for pure sorrow, he ran into that fountain over his middle,\nand sought after his sword. Then Sir Tristram saw that, and ran upon\nSir Palamides, and held him in his arms fast. What art thou, said Sir\nPalamides, that holdeth me so? I am a man of this forest that would\nthee none harm. Alas, said Sir Palamides, I may never win worship where\nSir Tristram is, for ever where he is and I be there then get I no\nworship, and if he be away for the most part I have the gree, unless\nthat Sir Launcelot du Lake be there or Sir Lamorak. Then Sir Palamides\nsaid: Once in Ireland Sir Tristram put me to the worse, and another\ntime in Cornwall, and in other places in this land. What would ye do,\nsaid Sir Tristram, and ye had Sir Tristram? I would fight with him,\nsaid Sir Palamides, and ease my heart upon him, and yet, to say the\nsooth, Sir Tristram is the gentlest knight in this world living. What\nwill ye do? said Sir Tristram, will ye go with me to your lodging? Nay,\nsaid he, I will go to the king with the hundred knights, for he rescued\nme from Sir Bors de Ganis and Sir Ector, and else had I been slain\ntraitourly. Sir Tristram said him such kind words that Sir Palamides\nwent with him to his lodging. Then Gouvernail went tofore and charged\ndame Bragwaine to go out of the way to her lodging, and bid ye Sir\nPersides that he make him no quarrels. And so they rode together till\nthey came to Sir Tristram\u2019s pavilion, and there Sir Palamides had all\nthe cheer that might be had all that night. But in no wise Sir\nPalamides might not know what was Sir Tristram. And so after supper\nthey went to rest, and Sir Tristram for great travail slept till it was\nday. And Sir Palamides might not sleep for anguish, and in the dawning\nof the day he took his horse privily and rode his way unto Sir Gaheris\nand to Sir Sagramor le Desirous, where they were in their pavilions,\nfor they three were fellows at the beginning of the tournament. And\nthen upon the morn the king blew unto the tournament upon the third day.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXIII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram smote down Sir Palamides, and how he justed with king\n Arthur, and other feats._\n\nSo the king of Northgalis and the king with the hundred knights, they\ntwo encountered with king Carados and with the king of Ireland, and\nthere the king with the hundred knights smote down king Carados, and\nthe king of Northgalis smote down the king of Ireland. With that came\nin Sir Palamides, and when he came he made great work, for by his\nindented shield he was well known. So came in king Arthur and did great\ndeeds of arms together, and put the king of Northgalis and the king\nwith the hundred knights to the worse. With this came in Sir Tristram\nwith his black shield, and anon he justed with Sir Palamides, and there\nby fine force Sir Tristram smote Sir Palamides over his horse croup.\nThen king Arthur cried, Knight with the black shield make thee ready to\nme. And in the same wise Sir Tristram smote king Arthur. And then by\nforce of king Arthur\u2019s knights the king and Sir Palamides were horsed\nagain. Then king Arthur with a great eager heart gat a spear in his\nhand, and there upon the one side he smote Sir Tristram over his horse.\nThen foot-hot Sir Palamides came upon Sir Tristram as he was on foot,\nto have over-ridden him. Then Sir Tristram was ware of him, and there\nhe stooped aside, and with great ire he gat him by the arm, and pulled\nhim down from his horse. Then Sir Palamides lightly arose, and then\nthey dashed together mightily with their swords, and many kings,\nqueens, and lords stood and beheld them. And at the last Sir Tristram\nsmote Sir Palamides upon the helm three mighty strokes, and at every\nstroke that he gave him he said, Have this for Sir Tristram\u2019s sake.\nWith that Sir Palamides fell to the earth groveling. And then came the\nking with the hundred knights and brought Sir Tristram an horse, and so\nwas he horsed again. By then was Sir Palamides horsed, and with great\nire he justed upon Sir Tristram with his spear as it was in the rest,\nand gave him a great dash with his spear. Then Sir Tristram avoided his\nspear and gat him by the neck with his both hands, and pulled him clean\nout of his saddle, and so he bare him afore him the length of ten\nspears, and then in the presence of them all he let him fall at his\nadventure. Then Sir Tristram was ware of king Arthur with a naked sword\nin his hand, and with his spear Sir Tristram ran upon king Arthur, and\nthen king Arthur boldly abode him, and with his sword he smote a-two\nhis spear, and therewithal Sir Tristram was astonished, and so king\nArthur gave him three or four great strokes or he might get out his\nsword, and at the last Sir Tristram drew his sword and assailed other\npassing hard. With that the great press parted, then Sir Tristram rode\nhere and there and did his great pain, that eleven of the good knights\nof the blood of king Ban, that was of Sir Launcelot\u2019s kin, that day Sir\nTristram smote down, that all the estates marvelled of his great deeds,\nand all cried upon the knight with the black shield.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXIV.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot hurt Sir Tristram, and how after Sir Tristram smote\n down Palamides._\n\nThen this cry was so large that Sir Launcelot heard it. And then he gat\na great spear in his hand, and came towards the cry. Then Sir Launcelot\ncried, The knight with the black shield, make thee ready to just with\nme. When Sir Tristram heard him say so, he gat his spear in his hand,\nand either abashed down their heads, and came together as thunder, and\nSir Tristram\u2019s spear brake in pieces, and Sir Launcelot by mal-fortune\nstruck Sir Tristram on the side a deep wound nigh to the death. But yet\nSir Tristram avoided not his saddle, and so the spear brake:\ntherewithal Sir Tristram that was wounded gat out his sword, and he\nrashed to Sir Launcelot, and gave him three great strokes upon the helm\nthat the fire spang there out, and Sir Launcelot abashed his head lowly\ntoward his saddle-bow. And therewithal Sir Tristram departed from the\nfield, for he felt him so wounded that he wend he should have died. And\nSir Dinadan espied him, and followed him into the forest. Then Sir\nLauncelot abode and did many marvellous deeds. So when Sir Tristram was\ndeparted by the forest side, he alight, and unlaced his harness and\nrefreshed his wound. Then wend Sir Dinadan that he should have died.\nNay, nay, said Sir Tristram, Dinadan never dread thee, for I am heart\nwhole, and of this wound I shall soon be whole by the mercy of God. By\nthat Sir Dinadan was ware where came Sir Palamides riding straight upon\nthem. And then Sir Tristram was ware that Sir Palamides came to have\ndestroyed him. And so Sir Dinadan gave him warning and said, Sir\nTristram, my lord, ye are so sore wounded that ye may not have ado with\nhim, therefore I will ride against him and do to him what I may; and if\nI be slain ye may pray for my soul, and in the meanwhile ye may\nwithdraw you and go into the castle, or into the forest, that he shall\nnot meet with you. Sir Tristram smiled and said, I thank you, Sir\nDinadan, of your good will, but ye shall wit that I am able to handle\nhim. And then anon hastily he armed him and took his horse and gat a\ngreat spear in his hand, and said to Sir Dinadan, Adieu, and rode\ntoward Sir Palamides a soft pace.\n\nThen when Sir Palamides saw that, he made countenance to amend his\nhorse; but he did it for this cause, for he abode Sir Gaheris that came\nafter him. And when he was come, he rode toward Sir Tristram. Then Sir\nTristram sent unto Sir Palamides and required him to just with him; and\nif he smote down Sir Palamides he would do no more to him; and if it so\nhappened that Sir Palamides smote down Sir Tristram he bad him do his\nutterance. So they were accorded. Then they met together, and Sir\nTristram smote down Sir Palamides, that he had a grievous fall, so that\nhe lay still as he had been dead. And then Sir Tristram ran upon Sir\nGaheris, and he would not have justed, but whether he would or not Sir\nTristram smote him over his horse croup, that he lay still as though he\nhad been dead. And then Sir Tristram rode his way, and left Sir\nPersides\u2019 squire within the pavilions, and Sir Tristram and Sir Dinadan\nrode to an old knight\u2019s place to lodge them. And that old knight had\nfive sons at the tournament, for whom he prayed heartily for their\ncoming home. And so, as the French book saith, they came home all five\nwell beaten.\n\nAnd when Sir Tristram departed into the forest, Sir Launcelot held\nalway the fight like hard as a man enraged that took no heed to\nhimself, and wit ye well there was many a noble knight against him. And\nwhen king Arthur saw Sir Launcelot do so marvellous deeds of arms, he\nthen armed him, and took his horse and armour, and rode into the field\nto help Sir Launcelot, and so many knights came in with king Arthur.\nAnd to make short tale, in conclusion, the king of Northgalis and the\nking of the hundred knights were put to the worse, and because Sir\nLauncelot abode and was the last in the field, the prize was given him.\nBut Sir Launcelot would neither for king, queen, nor knight have the\nprize. But where the cry was cried through the field, Sir Launcelot,\nSir Launcelot, hath won the field this day, Sir Launcelot let make\nanother cry contrary, Sir Tristram hath won the field, for he began\nfirst, and last he hath endured, and so hath he done the first day, the\nsecond, and the third day.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXV.\n\n_How the prize of the third day was given to Sir Launcelot, and Sir\n Launcelot gave it unto Sir Tristram._\n\nThen all the estates and degrees high and low said of Sir Launcelot\ngreat worship for the honour that he did unto Sir Tristram, and for\nthat honour doing to Sir Tristram he was at that time more praised and\nrenowned than if he had overthrown five hundred knights: and all the\npeople wholly for this gentleness, first the estates both high and low,\nand after the commonalty, cried at once, Sir Launcelot hath won the\nfield, whosoever say nay. Then was Sir Launcelot wroth and ashamed, and\nso therewithal he rode to king Arthur. Alas, said the king, we are all\ndismayed that Sir Tristram is thus departed from us. Truly, said king\nArthur, he is one of the noblest knights that ever I saw hold spear or\nsword in hand, and the most courteyest knight in his fighting, for full\nhard I saw him, said king Arthur, when he smote Sir Palamides upon his\nhelm, thrice that he abashed his helm with his strokes, and also he\nsaid, here is a stroke for Sir Tristram, and thus thrice he said. Then\nking Arthur, Sir Launcelot, and Sir Dodinas le Savage took their horses\nto seek Sir Tristram, and by the means of Sir Persides he had told king\nArthur where Sir Tristram was in his pavilion, but when they came there\nSir Tristram and Sir Dinadan were gone. Then king Arthur and Sir\nLauncelot were heavy, and returned again to the Castle of Maidens\nmaking great dole for the hurt of Sir Tristram, and his sudden\ndeparting. Truly, said king Arthur, I am more heavy that I cannot meet\nwith him than for all the hurts that all my knights have had at the\ntournament. Right so came Sir Gaheris and told to king Arthur how Sir\nTristram had smitten down Sir Palamides, and it was at Sir Palamides\u2019s\nown request. Alas, said king Arthur, that was great dishonour to Sir\nPalamides, inasmuch as Sir Tristram was sore wounded, and now may we\nall, kings, and knights, and men of worship, say that Sir Tristram may\nbe called a noble knight, and one of the best knights that ever I saw\nthe days of my life. For I will that ye all kings and knights know,\nsaid king Arthur, that I never saw knight do so marvellously as he hath\ndone these three days, for he was the first that began, and that\nlongest held on, save this last day. And though he was hurt, it was a\nmanly adventure of two noble knights: and when two noble men encounter\nneeds must the one have the worse, like as God will suffer at that\ntime. As for me, said Sir Launcelot, for all the lands that ever my\nfather left me I would not have hurt Sir Tristram and I had known him\nat that time. That I hurt him was for I saw not his shield, for if I\nhad seen his black shield I would not have meddled with him for many\ncauses, for late he did as much for me as ever knight did, and that is\nwell known that he had ado with thirty knights, and no help save Sir\nDinadan. And one thing shall I promise, said Sir Launcelot, Sir\nPalamides shall repent it, as in his unkindly dealing for to follow\nthat noble knight that I by mishap hurt thus. Sir Launcelot said all\nthe worship that might be said by Sir Tristram. Then king Arthur made a\ngreat feast to all that would come.\n\nAnd thus let we pass king Arthur, and a little we will turn unto Sir\nPalamides, that, after he had a fall of Sir Tristram, he was nigh hand\nenraged out of his wit for despite of Sir Tristram. And so he followed\nhim by adventure. And as he came by a river in his woodness he would\nhave made his horse to have lept over; and the horse failed footing and\nfell in the river, wherefore Sir Palamides was adread lest he should\nhave been drowned, and then he avoided his horse and swam to the land,\nand let his horse go down by adventure.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXVI.\n\n_How Sir Palamides came to the castle where Sir Tristram was, and of\n the quest that Sir Launcelot and ten knights made for Sir Tristram._\n\nAnd when he came to the land he took off his harness, and sat roaring\nand crying as a man out of his mind. Right so came a damsel even by Sir\nPalamides, that was sent from Sir Gawaine and his brother unto Sir\nMordred, that lay sick in the same place with that old knight where Sir\nTristram was. For, as the French book saith, Sir Persides hurt so Sir\nMordred a ten days afore; and had it not been for the love of Sir\nGawaine and his brother, Sir Persides had slain Sir Mordred. And so\nthis damsel came by Sir Palamides, and she and he had language\ntogether, the which pleased neither of them: and so the damsel rode her\nways till she came to the old knight\u2019s place, and there she told that\nold knight how she had met with the woodest knight by adventure that\never she met withal. What bare he in his shield? said Sir Tristram. It\nwas indented with white and black, said the damsel. Ah, said Sir\nTristram, that was Sir Palamides the good knight, for well I know him,\nsaid Sir Tristram, for one of the best knights living in this realm.\nThen that old knight took a little hackney, and rode for Sir Palamides,\nand brought him unto his own manor; and then full well knew Sir\nTristram Sir Palamides, but he said but little, for at that time Sir\nTristram was walking upon his feet, and well amended of his hurts, and\nalways when Sir Palamides saw Sir Tristram he would behold him full\nmarvellously. And ever him seemed that he had seen him. Then would he\nsay to Sir Dinadan, And ever I may meet with Sir Tristram, he shall not\nescape my hands. I marvel, said Sir Dinadan, that ye boast behind Sir\nTristram, for it is but late that he was in your hands, and ye in his\nhands; why would ye not hold him when ye had him? for I saw myself\ntwice or thrice that ye gat but little worship of Sir Tristram. Then\nwas Sir Palamides ashamed. So leave we them a little while in the\ncastle with the old knight Sir Darras.\n\nNow shall we speak of king Arthur, that said to Sir Launcelot, Had not\nye been, we had not lost Sir Tristram, for he was here daily unto the\ntime ye met with him, and in an evil time, said Arthur, ye encountered\nwith him. My lord Arthur, said Launcelot, ye put upon me that I should\nbe cause of his departure: truly it was against my will. But when men\nbe hot in deeds of arms, often they hurt their friends as well as their\nfoes; and my lord, said Sir Launcelot, ye shall understand that Sir\nTristram is a man that I am loth to offend, for he hath done for me\nmore than ever I did for him as yet. But then Sir Launcelot made to\nbring forth a book, and then Sir Launcelot said, Here we are ten\nknights that will swear upon a book never to rest one night where we\nrest another, this twelvemonth, until that we find Sir Tristram. And as\nfor me, said Sir Launcelot, I promise you upon this book that and I may\nmeet with him, either by fairness or foulness I shall bring him to this\ncourt, or else I shall die therefore. And the names of these ten\nknights that had undertaken this quest were these following. First was\nSir Launcelot; Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Bors de Ganis, and Bleoberis,\nand Sir Blamor de Ganis, and Lucan the butler, Sir Uwaine, Sir Galihud,\nSir Lionel, and Galiodin. So these ten noble knights departed from the\ncourt of king Arthur; and so they rode upon their quest together until\nthey came to a cross where departed four highways, and there departed\nthe fellowship in four, to seek Sir Tristram. And as Sir Launcelot rode\nby adventure he met with dame Bragwaine, that was sent into that\ncountry to seek Sir Tristram, and she fled as fast as her palfrey might\ngo. So Sir Launcelot met with her, and asked her why she fled. Ah, fair\nknight, said dame Bragwaine, I flee for dread of my life, for here\nfolloweth me Sir Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9 to slay me. Hold you nigh me, said\nSir Launcelot. Then when Sir Launcelot saw Sir Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9, Sir\nLauncelot cried unto him and said, False knight, destroyer of ladies\nand damsels, now thy last days be come. When Sir Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9 saw\nSir Launcelot\u2019s shield he knew it well, for at that time he bare not\nthe arms of Cornwall, but he bare his own shield. And then Sir Breuse\nfled, and Sir Launcelot followed after him. But Sir Breuse was so well\nhorsed, that when him list to flee he might well flee, and also abide\nwhen him list. And then Sir Launcelot returned unto dame Bragwaine, and\nshe thanked him of his great labour.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXVII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram, Sir Palamides, and Sir Dinadan were taken and put in\n prison._\n\nNow will we speak of Sir Lucan the butler, that by fortune came riding\nto the same place there as was Sir Tristram, and in he came in none\nother intent but to ask harbour. Then the porter asked what was his\nname. Tell your lord that my name is Sir Lucan the butler, a knight of\nthe Round Table. So the porter went unto Sir Darras, lord of the place,\nand told him who was there to ask harbour. Nay, nay, said Sir Daname,\nthat was nephew unto Sir Darras, say him that he shall not be lodged\nhere. But let him wit that I Sir Daname will meet with him anon, and\nbid him make him ready. So Sir Daname came forth on horseback, and\nthere they met together with spears, and Sir Lucan smote down Sir\nDaname over his horse croup, and then he fled into that place, and Sir\nLucan rode after him, and asked after him many times. Then Sir Dinadan\nsaid to Sir Tristram, It is shame to see the lord\u2019s cousin of this\nplace defoiled. Abide, said Sir Tristram, and I shall redress it. And\nin the mean while Sir Dinadan was on horseback, and he justed with\nLucan the butler, and there Sir Lucan smote Dinadan through the thick\nof the thigh, and so he rode his way, and Sir Tristram was wroth that\nSir Dinadan was hurt, and followed after, and thought to avenge him.\nAnd within a mile he overtook Sir Lucan and bade him turn: and so they\nmet together, so that Sir Tristram hurt Sir Lucan passing sore, and\ngave him a fall. With that came Sir Uwaine, a gentle knight, and when\nhe saw Sir Lucan so hurt, he called Sir Tristram to just with him. Fair\nknight, said Sir Tristram, tell me your name I require you. Sir knight,\nwit ye well my name is Sir Uwaine le Fise de Roy Ureine. Ah, said Sir\nTristram, by my will I would not have ado with you at no time. Ye shall\nnot so, said Sir Uwaine, but ye shall have ado with me. And then Sir\nTristram saw none other boot, but rode against him, and overthrew Sir\nUwaine, and hurt him in the side, and so he departed unto his lodging\nagain. And when Sir Dinadan understood that Sir Tristram had hurt Sir\nLucan, he would have ridden after Sir Lucan to have slain him, but Sir\nTristram would not suffer him.\n\nThen Sir Uwaine let ordain an horse-litter, and brought Sir Lucan to\nthe abbey of Ganis, and the castle thereby hight the castle of Ganis,\nof the which Sir Bleoberis was lord. And at that castle Sir Launcelot\npromised all his fellows to meet in the quest of Sir Tristram. So when\nSir Tristram was come to his lodging, there came a damsel that told Sir\nDarras that three of his sons were slain at that tournament, and two\ngrievously wounded that they were never like to help themselves, and\nall this was done by a noble knight that bare the black shield, and\nthat was he that bare the prize. Then came there one and told Sir\nDarras that the same knight was within him that bare the black shield.\nThen Sir Darras went unto Sir Tristram\u2019s chamber, and there he found\nhis shield and shewed it to the damsel. Ah, sir, said the damsel, that\nsame is he that slew your three sons. Then without any tarrying Sir\nDarras put Sir Tristram, and Sir Palamides, and Sir Dinadan within a\nstrong prison, and there Sir Tristram was like to have died of great\nsickness, and every day Sir Palamides would reprove Sir Tristram of old\nhate betwixt them. And ever Sir Tristram spake fair and said little.\nBut when Sir Palamides saw the falling of sickness of Sir Tristram then\nwas he heavy for him, and comforted him in all the best wise he could.\nAnd, as the French book saith, there came forty knights to Sir Darras\nthat were of his own kin, and they would have slain Sir Tristram and\nhis two fellows, but Sir Darras would not suffer that, but kept them in\nprison, and meat and drink they had. So Sir Tristram endured there\ngreat pain, for sickness had undertaken him, and that is the greatest\npain a prisoner may have. For all the while a prisoner may have his\nhealth of body, he may endure under the mercy of God, and in hope of\ngood deliverance; but when sickness toucheth a prisoner\u2019s body, then\nmay a prisoner say all wealth is him bereft, and then he hath cause to\nwail and to weep. And so did Sir Tristram when sickness had undertaken\nhim, for then he took such sorrow that he had almost slain himself.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXVIII.\n\n_How king Mark was sorry for the good renown of Sir Tristram: some of\n king Arthur\u2019s knights justed with knights of Cornwall._\n\nNow will we speak, and leave Sir Tristram, Sir Palamides, and Sir\nDinadan in prison, and speak we of other knights that sought after Sir\nTristram many divers parts of this land. And some went into Cornwall,\nand by adventure Sir Gaheris, nephew unto king Arthur, came unto king\nMark, and there he was well received, and sat at king Mark\u2019s own table\nand eat of his own mess. Then king Mark asked Sir Gaheris what tidings\nthere were in the realm of Logris. Sir, said Sir Gaheris, the king\nreigneth as a noble knight, and now but late there was a great justs\nand tournament as ever I saw any in the realm of Logris, and the most\nnoble knights were at that justs. But there was one knight that did\nmarvellously three days, and he bare a black shield, and of all knights\nthat ever I saw he proved the best knight. Then said king Mark, That\nwas Sir Launcelot, or Sir Palamides the Paynim. Not so, said Sir\nGaheris, for both Sir Launcelot and Sir Palamides were on the contrary\npart against the knight with the black shield. Then it was Sir\nTristram, said the king. Yea, said Sir Gaheris. And therewith the king\nsmote down his head, and in his heart he feared sore that Sir Tristram\nshould get him such worship in the realm of Logris, where through that\nhe himself should not be able to withstand him. Thus Sir Gaheris had\ngreat cheer with king Mark, and with queen La Beale Isoud, the which\nwas glad of Sir Gaheris\u2019 words; for well she wist by his deeds and\nmanners that it was Sir Tristram. And then the king made a feast royal,\nand unto that feast came Sir Uwaine le Fise de Roy Ureine, and some\nfolk called him Uwaine le Blanche Mains. And this Sir Uwaine challenged\nall the knights of Cornwall. Then was the king wood wroth that he had\nno knights to answer him. Then Sir Andred, nephew unto king Mark, lept\nup and said, I will encounter with Sir Uwaine. Then he went and armed\nhim, and horsed him in the best manner. And there Sir Uwaine met with\nSir Andred and smote him down, that he swooned on the earth. Then was\nking Mark sorry and wroth out of measure that he had no knight to\nrevenge his nephew Sir Andred. So the king called unto him Sir Dinas\nthe seneschal, and prayed him for his sake to take upon him to just\nwith Sir Uwaine. Sir, said Sir Dinas, I am full loth to have ado with\nany knight of the Round Table. Yet, said the king, for my love take\nupon thee to just. So Sir Dinas made him ready, and anon they\nencountered together with great spears, but Sir Dinas was overthrown,\nhorse and man, a great fall. Who was wroth but king Mark? Alas, he\nsaid, have I no knight that will encounter with yonder knight. Sir,\nsaid Sir Gaheris, for your sake I will just. So Sir Gaheris made him\nready, and when he was armed he rode into the field. And when Sir\nUwaine saw Sir Gaheris\u2019 shield, he rode unto him and said, Sir, ye do\nnot your part; for, sir, the first time ye were made knight of the\nRound Table ye sware that ye should not have ado with your fellowship\nwittingly. And pardy Sir Gaheris, ye knew me well enough by my shield,\nand so do I know you by your shield, and though ye would break your\noath I would not break mine, for there is not one here, nor ye, that\nshall think I am afraid of you, but I durst right well have ado with\nyou, but we be sisters\u2019 sons. Then was Sir Gaheris ashamed. And so\ntherewithal every knight went his way, and Sir Uwaine rode into the\ncountry. Then king Mark armed him and took his horse and his spear,\nwith a squire with him. And then he rode afore Sir Uwaine, and suddenly\nat a gap he ran upon him as he that was not ware of him, and there he\nsmote him almost through the body, and there left him. So within a\nwhile there came Sir Kay, and found Sir Uwaine, and asked him how he\nwas hurt. I wot not, said Sir Uwaine, why, nor wherefore, but by\ntreason I am sure I gat this hurt, for here came a knight suddenly upon\nme or that I was ware, and suddenly hurt me. Then there was come Sir\nAndred to seek king Mark. Thou traitor knight, said Sir Kay, and I wist\nit were thou that thus traitourly hast hurt this noble knight, thou\nshouldst never pass my hands. Sir, said Sir Andred, I did never hurt\nhim, and that I will report me to himself. Fie on you, false knights,\nsaid Sir Kay, for ye of Cornwall are nought worth. So Sir Kay made\ncarry Sir Uwaine to the abbey of the black cross, and there he was\nhealed. And then Sir Gaheris took his leave of king Mark. But or he\ndeparted he said, Sir king, ye did a foul shame unto you and your court\nwhen ye banished Sir Tristram out of this country, for ye needed not to\nhave doubted no knight and he had been here. And so he departed.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXIX.\n\n_Of the treason of king Mark, and how Sir Gaheris, smote him down and\n Andred his cousin._\n\nThen there came Sir Kay the seneschal unto king Mark, and there he had\ngood cheer shewing outward. Now fair lords, said he, will ye prove any\nadventures in the forest of Morris, in the which I know well is as hard\nan adventure as I know any. Sir, said Sir Kay, I will prove it. And Sir\nGaheris said he would be advised, for king Mark was ever full of\ntreason. And therewithal Sir Gaheris departed and rode his way. And by\nthe same way that Sir Kay should ride he laid him down to rest,\ncharging his squire to wait upon Sir Kay,\u2014and warn me when he cometh.\nSo within a while Sir Kay came riding that way. And then Sir Gaheris\ntook his horse and met him, and said, Sir Kay, ye are not wise to ride\nat the request of king Mark, for he dealeth all with treason. Then said\nSir Kay, I require you let us prove this adventure. I shall not fail\nyou, said Sir Gaheris. And so they rode that time till a lake that was\nthat time called the perilous lake, and there they abode under the\nshawe of the wood. The mean while king Mark within the castle of\nTintagil avoided all his barons, and all other save such as were privy\nwith him were all avoided out of his chamber. And then he let call his\nnephew Sir Andred, and bad arm him and horse him lightly, and by that\ntime it was midnight. And so king Mark was armed in black, horse and\nall. And so at a privy postern they two issued out with their varlets\nwith them, and rode till they came to that lake. Then Sir Kay espied\nthem first, and gat his spear, and proffered to just. And king Mark\nrode against him, and smote each other full hard, for the moon shone as\nthe bright day. And there at that justs Sir Kay\u2019s horse fell down, for\nhis horse was not so big as the king\u2019s horse was, and Sir Kay\u2019s horse\nbruised him full sore. Then Sir Gaheris was wroth that Sir Kay had a\nfall. Then he cried, Knight, sit thou fast in thy saddle, for I will\nrevenge my fellow. Then king Mark was afeard of Sir Gaheris, and so\nwith evil will king Mark rode against him: and Sir Gaheris gave him\nsuch a stroke that he fell down. So then forthwithal Sir Gaheris ran\nunto Sir Andred, and smote him from his horse quite that his helm smote\nin the earth and nigh had broken his neck. And therewith Sir Gaheris\nalight, and gat up Sir Kay. And then they went both on foot to them,\nand bad them yield them and tell their names, or else they should die.\nThen with great pain Sir Andred spake first and said, It is king Mark\nof Cornwall, therefore beware what ye do, and I am Sir Andred his\ncousin. Fie on you both, said Sir Gaheris, for a false traitor, and\nfalse treason hast thou wrought and he both, under the feigned cheer\nthat ye made us. It were pity, said Sir Gaheris, that thou shouldst\nlive any longer. Save my life, said king Mark, and I will make amends;\nand consider that I am a king anointed. It were the more shame, said\nSir Gaheris, to save thy life; thou art a king anointed with crism, and\ntherefore thou shouldest hold with all men of worship; and therefore\nthou art worthy to die. With that he lashed at king Mark without saying\nany more; and he covered him with his shield, and defended him as he\nmight. And then Sir Kay lashed at Sir Andred. And therewithal king Mark\nyielded him unto Sir Gaheris, and then he kneeled down, and made his\noath upon the cross of the sword that never while he lived he would be\nagainst errant knights. And also he sware to be good friend unto Sir\nTristram, if ever he came into Cornwall. By then Sir Andred was on the\nearth, and Sir Kay would have slain him. Let be, said Sir Gaheris, slay\nhim not I pray you. It were pity, said Sir Kay, that he should live any\nlonger, for this is nigh cousin unto Sir Tristram, and ever he hath\nbeen a traitor unto him, and by him he was exiled out of Cornwall, and\ntherefore I will slay him, said Sir Kay. Ye shall not, said Sir\nGaheris; sithen I have given the king his life, I pray you give him his\nlife. And therewithal Sir Kay let him go. And so Sir Kay and Sir\nGaheris rode forth their way unto Dinas the seneschal, for because they\nheard say that he loved well Sir Tristram. So they reposed them there.\nAnd soon after they rode unto the realm of Logris. And so within a\nlittle while they met with Sir Launcelot, that had always dame\nBragwaine with him, to that intent he wend to have met sooner with Sir\nTristram, and Sir Launcelot asked what tidings in Cornwall, and whether\nthey heard of Sir Tristram or not. Sir Kay and Sir Gaheris answered and\nsaid that they heard not of him. Then they told Sir Launcelot word by\nword of their adventure. Then Sir Launcelot smiled, and said, Hard it\nis to take out of the flesh that is bred in the bone. And so made them\nmerry together.\n\n\n CHAP. XL.\n\n_How after that Sir Tristram, Sir Palamides, and Sir Dinadan had been\n long in prison they were delivered._\n\nNow leave we off this tale and speak we of Sir Dinas that loved a lady\nwithin the castle, and she loved another knight better than him. And so\nwhen Sir Dinas went out on hunting she slipped down by a towel, and\ntook with her two brachets, and so she went to the knight that she\nloved. And when Sir Dinas came home and missed his lady, and his\nbrachets, then was he more wroth for his brachets than for the lady. So\nthen he rode after the knight that had his lady, and bad him turn and\njust. So Sir Dinas smote him down, that with the fall he brake his leg\nand his arm. And then his lady cried Sir Dinas mercy, and said she\nwould love him better than ever she did. Nay, said Sir Dinas, I shall\nnever trust them that once betrayed me, and therefore as ye have begun\nso end, for I will never meddle with you. And so Sir Dinas departed and\ntook his brachets with him, and so rode to his castle.\n\nNow will we turn unto Sir Launcelot, that was right heavy that he could\nnever hear no tidings of Sir Tristram, for all this while he was in\nprison with Sir Darras, Palamides, and Dinadan. Then dame Bragwaine\ntook her leave to go into Cornwall, and Sir Launcelot, Sir Kay, and Sir\nGaheris rode to seek Sir Tristram in the country of Surluse. Now\nspeaketh this tale of Sir Tristram and of his two fellows, for every\nday Sir Palamides brawled and said language against Sir Tristram. I\nmarvel, said Sir Dinadan, of thee Sir Palamides: and thou hadst Sir\nTristram here thou wouldst do him no harm; for and a wolf and a sheep\nwere together in prison, the wolf would suffer the sheep to be in\npeace. And wit thou well, said Sir Dinadan, this same is Sir Tristram\nat a word, and now mayest thou do thy best with him, and let see now\nhow ye can shift it with your hands. Then was Sir Palamides abashed and\nsaid little. Sir Palamides, said Sir Tristram, I have heard much of\nyour ill-will against me, but I will not meddle with you as at this\ntime by my will, because I dread the lord of this place that hath us in\ngovernance, for and I dread him more than I do thee, soon should it be\nshift. So they appeased themselves. Right so came in a damsel and said,\nKnights, be of good cheer, for ye are sure of your lives, and that I\nheard say my lord Sir Darras. Then were they glad all three, for daily\nthey wend they should have died. Then soon after this Sir Tristram fell\nsick, that he wend to have died. Then Sir Dinadan wept, and so did Sir\nPalamides under them both making great sorrow. So a damsel came into\nthem, and found them mourning. Then she went to Sir Darras and told him\nhow that mighty knight that bare the black shield was likely to die.\nThat shall not be, said Sir Darras, for God defend when any knights\ncome to me for succour that I should suffer them to die within my\nprison. Therefore, said Sir Darras to the damsel, fetch that knight and\nhis fellows afore me. And then anon when Sir Darras saw Sir Tristram\nafore him, he said, Sir knight, me repenteth of thy sickness, for thou\nart called a full noble knight, and so it seemeth by thee. And wit ye\nwell, it shall never be said that Sir Darras shall destroy such a noble\nknight as thou art in prison, howbeit that thou hast slain three of my\nsons, whereby I was greatly agrieved. But now shalt thou go and thy\nfellows, and your harness and horses have been fair and clean kept, and\nye shall go where it liketh you, upon this covenant, that thou, knight,\nwill promise me to be good friend to my sons two that be now on live,\nand also that thou tell me thy name. Sir, said he, as for me, my name\nis Sir Tristram de Liones, and in Cornwall was I born, and nephew I am\nunto king Mark. And as for the death of your sons, I might not do\nwithal, for and they had been the next kin that I have, I might have\ndone none otherwise. And if I had slain them by treason or treachery, I\nhad been worthy to have died. All this I consider, said Sir Darras,\nthat all that ye did was by force of knighthood, and that was the cause\nI would not put you to death. But since ye be Sir Tristram the good\nknight, I pray you heartily to be my good friend and to my sons. Sir,\nsaid Sir Tristram, I promise you by the faith of my body ever while I\nlive I will do you service, for ye have done to us but as a natural\nknight ought to do. Then Sir Tristram reposed him there till that he\nwas amended of his sickness. And when he was big and strong they took\ntheir leave, and every knight took their horses and so departed, and\nrode together till they came to a cross way. Now fellows, said Sir\nTristram, here will we depart in sundry ways. And because Sir Dinadan\nhad the first adventure, of him I will begin.\n\n\n CHAP. XLI.\n\n_How Sir Dinadan rescued a lady from Sir Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9, and how Sir\n Tristram received a shield of Morgan le Fay._\n\nSo as Sir Dinadan rode by a well, he found a lady making great dole.\nWhat aileth you? said Sir Dinadan. Sir knight, said the lady, I am the\nwofullest lady of the world, for within these five days here came a\nknight called Sir Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9, and he slew mine own brother, and\never since he hath kept me at his own will, and of all men in the world\nI hate him most. And therefore I require you of knighthood to avenge\nme, for he will not tarry but be here anon. Let him come, said Sir\nDinadan, and because of honour of all women I will do my part. With\nthis came Sir Breuse, and when he saw a knight with his lady, he was\nwood wroth. And then he said, Sir knight, keep thee from me. So they\nhurled together as thunder, and either smote other passing sore. But\nSir Dinadan put him through the shoulder a grievous wound, and or ever\nSir Dinadan might turn him, Sir Breuse was gone and fled. Then the lady\nprayed him to bring her to a castle there beside but four mile thence.\nAnd so Sir Dinadan brought her there, and she was welcome, for the lord\nof that castle was her uncle. And so Sir Dinadan rode his way upon his\nadventure.\n\nNow turn we this tale unto Sir Tristram, that by adventure he came to a\ncastle to ask lodging, wherein was queen Morgan le Fay. And so when Sir\nTristram was let into that castle he had good cheer all that night. And\nupon the morn when he would have departed, the queen said, Wit ye well\nye shall not depart lightly, for ye are here as a prisoner. God defend,\nsaid Sir Tristram, for I was but late a prisoner. Fair knight, said the\nqueen, ye shall abide with me till that I wit what ye are, and from\nwhence ye come. And ever the queen would set Sir Tristram on her side,\nand her paramour on the other side, and ever queen Morgan would behold\nSir Tristram, and thereat the knight was jealous, and was in will\nsuddenly to have run upon Sir Tristram with a sword, but he left it for\nshame. Then the queen said to Sir Tristram, Tell me thy name, and I\nshall suffer you to depart when you will. Upon that covenant I tell you\nmy name is Sir Tristram de Liones. Ah, said Morgan le Fay, and I had\nwist that thou shouldst not have departed so soon as thou shalt: but\nsithen I have made a promise I will hold it, with that thou wilt\npromise me to bear upon thee a shield that I shall deliver thee, unto\nthe castle of the Hard Rock, where king Arthur hath cried a great\ntournament, and there I pray you that ye will be, and to do for me as\nmuch deeds of arms as ye may do. For at that Castle of Maidens, Sir\nTristram, ye did marvellous deeds of arms as ever I heard knight do.\nMadam, said Sir Tristram, let me see the shield that I shall bear. So\nthe shield was brought forth, and the shield was goldish, with a king\nand a queen therein painted, and a knight standing above them, with one\nfoot upon the king\u2019s head, and the other upon the queen\u2019s. Madam, said\nSir Tristram, this is a fair shield and a mighty; but what signifieth\nthis king and this queen and that knight standing upon both their\nheads. I shall tell you, said Morgan le Fay, it signifieth king Arthur\nand queen Guenever, and a knight that holdeth them both in bondage and\nservage. Who is that knight? said Sir Tristram. That shall ye not wit\nas at this time, said the queen. But, as the French book saith, queen\nMorgan loved Sir Launcelot best, and ever she desired him, and he would\nnever love her, nor do nothing at her request, and therefore she held\nmany knights together for to have taken him by strength. And because\nshe deemed that Sir Launcelot loved queen Guenever, and she him again,\ntherefore queen Morgan le Fay ordained that shield to put Sir Launcelot\nto a rebuke, to that intent that king Arthur might understand the love\nbetween them. Then Sir Tristram took that shield and promised her to\nbear it at the tournament at the castle of the Hard Rock. But Sir\nTristram knew not that shield was ordained against Sir Launcelot, but\nafterward he knew it.\n\n\n CHAP. XLII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram took with him the shield, and also how he slew the\n paramour of Morgan le Fay._\n\nSo then Sir Tristram took his leave of the queen, and took the shield\nwith him. Then came the knight that held queen Morgan le Fay, his name\nwas Sir Hemison, and he made him ready to follow Sir Tristram. Fair\nfriend, said Morgan, ride not after that knight, for ye shall win no\nworship of him. Fie on him, coward, said Sir Hemison, for I wist never\ngood knight come out of Cornwall, but if it were Sir Tristram de\nLiones. What and that be he, said she. Nay, nay, said he, he is with La\nBeale Isoud, and this is but a daffish knight. Alas my fair friend, ye\nshall find him the best knight that ever ye met withal, for I know him\nbetter than ye do. For your sake, said Sir Hemison, I shall slay him.\nAh, fair friend, said the queen, me repenteth that ye will follow that\nknight, for I fear me sore of your again coming. With this, this knight\nrode his way wood wroth, and he rode after Sir Tristram as fast as he\nhad been chased with knights. When Sir Tristram heard a knight come\nafter him so fast, he returned about, and saw a knight coming against\nhim. And when he came nigh to Sir Tristram, he cried on high, Sir\nknight, keep thee from me. Then they rushed together as it had been\nthunder, and Sir Hemison bruised his spear upon Sir Tristram, but his\nharness was so good that he might not hurt him. And Sir Tristram smote\nhim harder, and bare him through the body, and he fell over his horse\ncroup. Then Sir Tristram turned to have done more with his sword, but\nhe saw so much blood go from him, that him seemed he was likely to die;\nand so he departed from him and came to a fair manor to an old knight,\nand there Sir Tristram lodged.\n\n\n CHAP. XLIII.\n\n_How Morgan le Fay buried her paramour, and how Sir Tristram praised\n Sir Launcelot and his kin._\n\nNow leave we to speak of Sir Tristram, and speak we of the knight that\nwas wounded to the death. Then his varlet alight, and took off his\nhelm; and then he asked his master whether there were any life in him.\nThere is in me life, said the knight, but it is but little, and\ntherefore leap thou up behind me, when thou hast holpen me up; and hold\nme fast that I fall not, and bring me to queen Morgan le Fay, for deep\ndraughts of death draw to my heart, that I may not live, for I would\nfain speak with her or I died. For else my soul will be in great peril\nand I die. And with great pain his varlet brought him to the castle,\nand there Sir Hemison fell down dead. When Morgan le Fay saw him dead,\nshe made great sorrow out of reason. And then she let despoil him unto\nhis shirt, and so she let him put into a tomb. And about the tomb she\nlet write: Here lieth Sir Hemison, slain by the hands of Sir Tristram\nde Liones. Now turn we unto Sir Tristram, that asked the knight, his\nhost, if he saw late any knights adventurous. Sir, he said, the last\nnight here lodged with me Sir Ector de Maris and a damsel with him, and\nthat damsel told me that he was one of the best knights of the world.\nThat is not so, said Sir Tristram, for I know four better knights of\nhis own blood; and the first is Sir Launcelot du Lake, call him the\nbest knight; and Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Blamor de Ganis,\nand Sir Gaheris. Nay, said his host, Sir Gawaine is a better knight\nthan he. That is not so, said Sir Tristram, for I have met with them\nboth, and I felt Sir Gaheris for the better knight; and Sir Lamorak, I\ncall him as good as any of them, except Sir Launcelot. Why name ye not\nSir Tristram, said his host, for I account him as good as any of them.\nI know not Sir Tristram, said Tristram. Thus they talked and jested as\nlong as them list, and then went to rest. And on the morn Sir Tristram\ndeparted and took his leave of his host, and rode towards the\nRoche-dure, and none adventure had Sir Tristram but that, and so he\nrested not till he came to the castle, where he saw five hundred tents.\n\n\n CHAP. XLIV.\n\n_How Sir Tristram at a tournament bare the shield that Morgan le Fay\n had delivered him._\n\nThen the king of Scots and the king of Ireland held against king\nArthur\u2019s knights, and there began a great meddle. So came in Sir\nTristram and did marvellous deeds of arms, for there he smote down many\nknights. And ever he was afore king Arthur with that shield. And when\nking Arthur saw that shield, he marvelled greatly in what intent it was\nmade. But queen Guenever deemed as it was, wherefore she was heavy.\nThen was there a damsel of queen Morgan in a chamber by king Arthur,\nand when she heard king Arthur speak of that shield, then she spake\nopenly unto king Arthur, Sir king, wit ye well this shield was ordained\nfor you, to warn you of your shame and dishonour, and that longeth to\nyou and to your queen. And then anon the damsel piked her away privily,\nthat no man wist where she was become. Then was king Arthur sad and\nwroth, and asked from whence came that damsel. There was not one that\nknew her, nor wist where she was become. Then queen Guenever called to\nher Sir Ector de Maris, and there she made her complaint to him, and\nsaid, I wot well this shield was made by Morgan le Fay, in despite of\nme and Sir Launcelot, wherefore I dread sore lest I should be\ndestroyed. And ever the king beheld Sir Tristram that did so marvellous\ndeeds of arms, that he wondered sore what knight he might be, and well\nhe wist it was not Sir Launcelot. And it was told him that Sir Tristram\nwas in Petit Britain with Isoud la Blanche Mains, for he deemed, and he\nhad been in the realm of Logris, Sir Launcelot or some of his fellows\nthat were in the quest of Sir Tristram, that they should have found him\nor that time. So king Arthur had marvel what knight he might be. And\never Sir Arthur\u2019s eye was on that shield. All that espied the queen,\nand that made her sore afeard. Then ever Sir Tristram smote down\nknights, wonderly to behold, what upon the right hand and upon the left\nhand, that unneth no knight might withstand him. And the king of Scots\nand the king of Ireland began to withdraw them. When Arthur espied\nthat, he thought that that knight with the strange shield should not\nescape him. Then he called unto him Sir Uwaine la Blanche Mains, and\nbade him arm him and make him ready. So anon king Arthur and Sir Uwaine\ndressed them before Sir Tristram, and required him to tell them where\nhe had that shield. Sir, he said, I had it of queen Morgan le Fay,\nsister unto king Arthur.\n\nSoo here endeth this history of this book, for it is the firste book of\n sire Tristram de lyones, and the second book of sir tristram foloweth.\n\nHere begynneth the second book of sire Tristram. Howe syre Tristram\n smote doune kyng Arthur and sir Uwayne, by cause he wold not telle\n hem wherfor that shelde was made. But to say the sothe sire Tristram\n coude not telle the cause, for he knewe it not.\n\n\n\n\n The Tenth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How Sir Tristram justed and smote down king Arthur, because he told\n him not the cause why he bare that shield._\n\nAnd if so be ye can describe what ye bear, ye are worthy to bear the\narms. As for that, said Sir Tristram, I will answer you. This shield\nwas given me, not desired, of queen Morgan le Fay. And as for me, I\ncannot describe these arms, for it is no point of my charge, and yet I\ntrust to bear them with worship. Truly, said king Arthur, ye ought to\nbear none arms but if ye wist what ye bear. But I pray you tell me your\nname. To what intent? said Sir Tristram. For I would wit, said king\nArthur. Sir, ye shall not wit as at this time. Then shall ye and I do\nbattle together, said king Arthur. Why, said Sir Tristram, will ye do\nbattle with me but if I tell you my name? and that little needeth you\nand ye were a man of worship, for ye have seen me this day have had\ngreat travail; and therefore ye are a villainous knight to ask battle\nof me, considering my great travail, howbeit I will not fail you, and\nhave ye no doubt that I fear not you; though ye think ye have me at a\ngreat advantage, yet shall I right well endure you. And therewithal\nking Arthur dressed his shield and his spear, and Sir Tristram against\nhim, and they came so eagerly together. And there king Arthur brake his\nspear all to pieces upon Sir Tristram\u2019s shield. But Sir Tristram hit\nking Arthur again, that horse and man fell to the earth. And there was\nking Arthur wounded on the left side a great wound and a perilous. Then\nwhen Sir Uwaine saw his lord Arthur lie on the ground sore wounded he\nwas passing heavy. And then he dressed his shield and spear, and cried\naloud unto Sir Tristram, and said, Knight, defend thee. So they came\ntogether as thunder, and Sir Uwaine brake his spear all to pieces upon\nSir Tristram\u2019s shield. And Sir Tristram smote him harder and sorer,\nwith such a might that he bare him clean out of his saddle to the\nearth. With that Sir Tristram turned about and said, Fair knights, I\nhad no need to just with you, for I have had enough to do this day.\nThen arose Arthur and went to Sir Uwaine, and said to Sir Tristram, We\nhave as we have deserved, for through our pride we demanded battle of\nyou, and yet we knew not your name. Nevertheless, said Sir Uwaine, by\nsaint cross he is a strong knight at mine advice as any is now living.\n\nThen Sir Tristram departed, and in every place he asked and demanded\nafter Sir Launcelot, but in no place he could not hear of him whether\nhe were dead or on live, wherefore Sir Tristram made great dole and\nsorrow. So Sir Tristram rode by a forest, and then was he ware of a\nfair tower by a marsh on that one side, and on that other side a fair\nmeadow. And there he saw ten knights fighting together. And ever the\nnearer he came he saw how there was but one knight did battle against\nnine knights, and that one knight did so marvellously that Sir Tristram\nhad great wonder that ever one knight might do so great deeds of arms.\nAnd then within a little while he had slain half their horses and\nunhorsed them, and their horses ran in the fields and forest. Then Sir\nTristram had so great pity upon that one knight that endured so great\npain, and ever he thought it should be Sir Palamides by his shield. And\nso he rode unto the knights and cried unto them, and bad them cease of\ntheir battle, for they did themselves great shame, so many knights to\nfight with one. Then answered the master of those knights, his name was\ncalled Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9, that was at that time the most mischievousest\nknight living, and said thus: Sir knight, what have ye ado with us to\nmeddle; and therefore and ye be wise depart on your way as ye came, for\nthis knight shall not escape us. That were pity, said Sir Tristram,\nthat so good a knight as he is should be slain so cowardly. And\ntherefore I warn you I will succour him with all my puissance.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How Sir Tristram saved Sir Palamides\u2019 life, and how they promised to\n fight together within a fortnight._\n\nSo Sir Tristram alight off his horse because they were on foot, that\nthey should not slay his horse, and then dressed his shield with his\nsword in his hand: and he smote on the right hand and on the left hand\npassing sore, that well nigh at every stroke he strake down a knight.\nAnd when they espied his strokes they fled all with Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9\nunto the tower; and Sir Tristram followed fast after with his sword in\nhis hand. But they escaped into the tower and shut Sir Tristram without\nthe gate. And when Sir Tristram saw this he returned back unto Sir\nPalamides, and found him sitting under a tree sore wounded. Ah, fair\nknight, said Sir Tristram, well be ye found. Gramercy, said Sir\nPalamides, of your great goodness, for ye have rescued me of my life,\nand saved me from my death. What is your name? said Sir Tristram. He\nsaid, my name is Sir Palamides. Oh, said Sir Tristram, thou hast a fair\ngrace of me this day that I should rescue thee, and thou art the man in\nthe world that I most hate. But now make thee ready, for I will do\nbattle with thee. What is your name? said Sir Palamides. My name is Sir\nTristram, your mortal enemy. It may be so, said Sir Palamides, but ye\nhave done overmuch for me this day that I should fight with you, for\ninasmuch as ye have saved my life, it will be no worship for you to\nhave ado with me, for ye are fresh, and I am wounded sore. And\ntherefore and ye will needs have ado with me, assign me a day, and then\nI shall meet with you without fail. Ye say well, said Sir Tristram.\nNow, I assign you to meet me in the meadow by the river of Camelot,\nwhere Merlin set the peron. So they were agreed. Then Sir Tristram\nasked Sir Palamides why the ten knights did battle with him. For this\ncause, said Sir Palamides, as I rode on mine adventures in a forest\nhere beside, I espied where lay a dead knight, and a lady weeping\nbeside him. And when I saw her making such dole, I asked her who slew\nher lord? Sir, she said, the falsest knight of the world now living:\nand he is the most villain that ever man heard speak of, and his name\nis Sir Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9. Then for pity I made the damsel to leap on\nher palfrey, and I promised her to be her warrant, and to help her to\ninter her lord. And so, suddenly, as I came riding by this tower, there\ncame out Sir Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9, and suddenly he strake me from my\nhorse. And then or I might recover my horse, this Sir Breuse slew the\ndamsel. And so I took my horse again, and I was sore ashamed, and so\nbegan the meddle betwixt us. And this is the cause wherefore we did\nthis battle. Well, said Sir Tristram, now I understand the manner of\nyour battle. But in any wise have remembrance of your promise that ye\nhave made with me to do battle with me this day fortnight. I shall not\nfail you, said Sir Palamides. Well, said Sir Tristram, as at this time\nI will not fail you till that ye be out of the danger of your enemies.\nSo they mounted upon their horses, and rode together unto that forest,\nand there they found a fair well, with clear water burbling. Fair sir,\nsaid Sir Tristram, to drink of that water have I courage. And then they\nalight off their horses. And then were they ware by them where stood a\ngreat horse tied to a tree, and ever he neighed. And then were they\nware of a fair knight armed under a tree, lacking no piece of harness,\nsave his helm lay under his head. Truly, said Sir Tristram, yonder\nlieth a wellfaring knight, what is best to do? Awake him, said Sir\nPalamides. So Sir Tristram wakened him with the butt of his spear. And\nso the knight arose up hastily, and put his helm upon his head, and gat\na great spear in his hand, and without any more words he hurled unto\nSir Tristram, and smote him clean from his saddle to the earth, and\nhurt him on the left side, that Sir Tristram lay in great peril. Then\nhe galloped farther, and fet his course, and came hurling upon Sir\nPalamides, and there he strake him a part through the body, that he\nfell from his horse to the earth. And then this strange knight left\nthem there, and took his way through the forest. With this Sir\nPalamides and Sir Tristram were on foot, and gat their horses again,\nand either asked counsel of other what was best to do. By my head, said\nSir Tristram, I will follow this strong knight that thus hath shamed\nus. Well, said Sir Palamides, and I will repose me hereby with a friend\nof mine. Beware, said Sir Tristram unto Palamides, that ye fail not\nthat day that ye have set with me to do battle, for, as I deem, ye will\nnot hold your day, for I am much bigger than ye. As for that, said Sir\nPalamides, be it as it be may, for I fear you not: for and I be not\nsick nor prisoner I will not fail you. But I have cause for to have\nmore doubt of you that ye will not meet with me, for ye ride after\nyonder strong knight, and if ye meet with him it is an hard adventure\nand ever ye escape his hands. Right so Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides\ndeparted, and either took their ways diverse.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How Sir Tristram sought a strong knight that had smitten him down, and\n many other knights of the Round Table._\n\nSo Sir Tristram rode long after this strong knight. And at the last he\nsaw where lay a lady overthwart a dead knight. Fair lady, said Sir\nTristram, who hath slain your lord? Sir, said she, there came a knight\nriding as my lord and I rested us here, and asked him of whence he was,\nand my lord said of Arthur\u2019s court. Therefore, said the strong knight,\nI will just with thee, for I hate all these that be of Arthur\u2019s court.\nAnd my lord that lieth here dead mounted upon his horse, and the strong\nknight and my lord encountered together, and there he smote my lord\nthrough out with his spear. And thus he hath brought me in great woe\nand damage. That me repenteth, said Sir Tristram, of your great anger;\nand it please you tell me your husband\u2019s name? Sir, said she, his name\nwas Galardoun, that would have proved a good knight. So departed Sir\nTristram from that dolorous lady, and had much evil lodging. Then on\nthe third day Sir Tristram met with Sir Gawaine and with Sir Bleoberis\nin a forest at a lodge: and either were sore wounded. Then Sir Tristram\nasked Sir Gawaine and Sir Bleoberis if they met with such a knight,\nwith such a cognisance, with a covered shield. Fair sir, said these\nknights, such a knight met with us to our great damage. And first he\nsmote down my fellow Sir Bleoberis, and sore wounded him because he bad\nme I should not have ado with him, for why, he was over strong for me.\nThat strong knight took his words at scorn, and said he said it for\nmockery. And then they rode together, and so he hurt my fellow. And\nwhen he had done so, I might not for shame but I must just with him.\nAnd at the first course, he smote me down and my horse to the earth.\nAnd there he had almost slain me, and from us he took his horse and\ndeparted, and in an evil time we met with him. Fair knights, said Sir\nTristram, so he met with me and with another knight that hight\nPalamides, and he smote us both down with one spear, and hurt us right\nsore. By my faith, said Sir Gawaine, by my counsel ye shall let him\npass and seek him no farther, for at the next feast of the Round Table\nupon pain of my head ye shall find him there. By my faith, said Sir\nTristram, I shall never rest till that I find him. And then Sir Gawaine\nasked him his name. Then he said, My name is Sir Tristram. And so\neither told other their names. And then departed Sir Tristram, and rode\nhis way. And by fortune in a meadow Sir Tristram met with Sir Kay the\nseneschal and Sir Dinadan. What tidings with you, said Sir\nTristram,\u2014with you knights? Not good, said these knights. Why so? said\nSir Tristram, I pray you tell me, for I ride to seek a knight. What\ncognisance beareth he? said Sir Kay. He beareth, said Sir Tristram, a\ncovered shield close with a cloth. By my head, said Sir Kay, that is\nthe same knight that met with us, for this night we were lodged within\na widow\u2019s house, and there was that knight lodged. And when he wist we\nwere of Arthur\u2019s court, he spake great villainy by the king, and\nspecially by the queen Guenever. And then on the morrow we waged battle\nwith him for that cause. And at the first recounter, said Sir Kay, he\nsmote me down from my horse, and hurt me passing sore. And when my\nfellow Sir Dinadan saw me smitten down and hurt, he would not revenge\nme, but fled from me. And thus is he departed. And then Sir Tristram\nrequired them to tell him their names, and so either told other their\nnames. And so Sir Tristram departed from Sir Kay and from Sir Dinadan,\nand so he passed through a great forest into a plain, till he was ware\nof a priory, and there he reposed him with a good man six days.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How Sir Tristram smote down Sir Sagramor le Desirous, and Sir Dodinas\n le Savage._\n\nAnd then he sent his man that hight Gouvernail, and commanded him to go\nto a city there by to fetch him new harness; for it was long time afore\nthat that Sir Tristram had been refreshed; his harness was bruised and\nbroken. And when Gouvernail his servant was come with his apparel, he\ntook his leave at the widow, and mounted upon his horse, and rode his\nway early on the morn. And, by sudden adventure Sir Tristram met with\nSir Sagramor le Desirous, and with Sir Dodinas le Savage. And these two\nknights met with Sir Tristram and questioned with him, and asked him if\nhe would just with them. Fair knights, said Sir Tristram, with a good\nwill I would just with you, but I have promised at a day set near hand\nto do battle with a strong knight. And therefore I am loth to have ado\nwith you, for and it misfortuned me here to be hurt, I should not be\nable to do my battle which I promised. As for that, said Sir Sagramor,\nmaugre your head ye shall just with us or ye pass from us. Well, said\nSir Tristram, if ye enforce me thereto, I must do what I may. And then\nthey dressed their shields, and came running together with great ire.\nBut through Sir Tristram\u2019s great force, he strake Sir Sagramor from his\nhorse. Then he hurled his horse farther, and said to Sir Dodinas,\nKnight, make thee ready. And so through fine force Sir Tristram strake\nDodinas from his horse. And when he saw them lie on the earth he took\nhis bridle, and rode forth on his way, and his man Gouvernail with him.\nAnon as Sir Tristram was past, Sir Sagramor and Sir Dodinas gat again\ntheir horses, and mounted up lightly, and followed after Sir Tristram.\nAnd when Sir Tristram saw them come so fast after him, he returned with\nhis horse to them, and asked them what they would. It is not long ago\nsince I smote you down to the earth at your own request and desire: I\nwould have ridden by you but ye would not suffer me, and now me seemeth\nye would do more battle with me. That is truth, said Sir Sagramor and\nSir Dodinas, for we will be revenged of the despite that ye have done\nto us. Fair knights, said Sir Tristram, that shall little need you, for\nall that I did to you ye caused it, wherefore I require you of your\nknighthood leave me as at this time, for I am sure and I do battle with\nyou I shall not escape without great hurts, and as I suppose ye shall\nnot escape all lotless. And this is the cause why I am so loth to have\nado with you. For I must fight within these three days with a good\nknight and as valiant as any is now living, and if I be hurt I shall\nnot be able to do battle with him. What knight is that, said Sir\nSagramor, that ye shall fight withal? Sir, said he, it is a good knight\ncalled Sir Palamides. By my head, said Sir Sagramor and Sir Dodinas, ye\nhave cause to dread him, for ye shall find him a passing good knight\nand a valiant. And because ye shall have ado with him we will forbear\nyou as at this time, and else ye should not escape us lightly. But fair\nknight, said Sir Sagramor, tell us your name. Sir, said he, my name is\nSir Tristram de Liones. Ah, said Sagramor and Sir Dodinas, well be ye\nfound, for much worship have we heard of you. And then either took\nleave of other, and departed on their way.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How Sir Tristram met at the peron with Sir Launcelot, and how they\n fought together unknown._\n\nThen departed Sir Tristram and rode straight unto Camelot, to the peron\nthat Merlin had made tofore, where Sir Lanceor, that was the king\u2019s son\nof Ireland, was slain by the hands of Balin. And in that same place was\nthe fair lady Columbe slain, that was love unto Sir Lanceor, for after\nhe was dead she took his sword and thrust it through her body. And by\nthe craft of Merlin he made to inter this knight Sir Lanceor and his\nlady Columbe under one stone. And at that time Merlin prophesied that\nin that same place should fight two the best knights that ever were in\nArthur\u2019s days, and the best lovers. So when Sir Tristram came to the\ntomb where Lanceor and his lady were buried, he looked about him after\nSir Palamides. Then was he ware of a seemly knight came riding against\nhim all in white, with a covered shield. When he came nigh Sir\nTristram, he said on high, Ye be welcome, Sir knight, and well and\ntruly have ye holden your promise. And then they dressed their shields\nand spears, and came together with all their mights of their horses.\nAnd they met so fiercely that both their horses and knights fell to the\nearth. And as fast as they might they avoided their horses, and put\ntheir shields before them, and they strake together with bright swords,\nas men that were of might, and either wounded other wonderly sore, that\nthe blood ran out upon the grass. And thus they two fought the space of\nfour hours, that never one would speak to other one word, and of their\nharness they had hewn off many pieces. Oh, said Gouvernail, I have\nmarvel greatly of the strokes my master hath given to your master. By\nmy head, said Sir Launcelot\u2019s servant, your master hath not given so\nmany but your master hath received as many or more. Oh, said\nGouvernail, it is too much for Sir Palamides to suffer, or Sir\nLauncelot, and yet pity it were that either of these good knights\nshould destroy other\u2019s blood. So they stood and wept both, and made\ngreat dole when they saw the bright swords over covered with blood of\ntheir bodies. Then at the last spake Sir Launcelot and said: Knight,\nthou fightest wonderly well as ever I saw knight, therefore and it\nplease you tell me your name. Sir, said Sir Tristram, that is me loth\nto tell any man my name. Truly, said Sir Launcelot, and I were\nrequired, I was never loth to tell my name. It is well said, quoth Sir\nTristram, then I require you to tell me your name. Fair knight, he\nsaid, my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake. Alas, said Sir Tristram, what\nhave I done, for ye are the man in the world that I love best. Fair\nknight, said Sir Launcelot, tell me your name. Truly, said he, my name\nis Sir Tristram de Liones. Oh, said Sir Launcelot, what adventure is\nbefallen me! And therewith Sir Launcelot kneeled down and yielded him\nup his sword. And therewithal Sir Tristram kneeled adown, and yielded\nhim up his sword. And so either gave other the degree. And then they\nboth forthwithal went to the stone, and set them down upon it, and took\noff their helms to cool them, and either kissed other an hundred times.\nAnd then anon after they took their helms and rode to Camelot. And\nthere they met with Sir Gawaine and with Sir Gaheris that had made\npromise to Arthur never to come again to the court till they had\nbrought Sir Tristram with them.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot brought Sir Tristram to the court, and of the great\n joy that the king and other made for the coming of Sir Tristram._\n\nReturn again, said Sir Launcelot, for your quest is done, for I have\nmet with Sir Tristram: lo here is his own person. Then was Sir Gawaine\nglad, and said to Sir Tristram, Ye are welcome, for now have ye eased\nme greatly of my labour. For what cause, said Sir Gawaine, came ye into\nthis court? Fair sir, said Sir Tristram, I came into this country\nbecause of Sir Palamides, for he and I had assigned at this day to have\ndone battle together at the peron, and I marvel I hear not of him. And\nthus by adventure my lord Sir Launcelot and I met together. With this\ncame king Arthur. And when he wist that there was Sir Tristram, then he\nran unto him and took him by the hand and said, Sir Tristram, ye be as\nwelcome as any knight that ever came to this court. And when the king\nhad heard how Sir Launcelot and he had foughten, and either had wounded\nother wonderly sore, then the king made great dole. Then Sir Tristram\ntold the king how he came thither for to have had ado with Sir\nPalamides. And then he told the king how he had rescued him from the\nnine knights and Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9, and how he found a knight lying by\na well, and that knight smote down Sir Palamides and me, but his shield\nwas covered with a cloth. So Sir Palamides left me, and I followed\nafter that knight. And in many places I found where he had slain\nknights, and forjusted many. By my head, said Sir Gawaine, that same\nknight smote me down and Sir Bleoberis, and hurt us sore both, he with\nthe covered shield. Ah, said Sir Kay, that knight smote me adown and\nhurt me passing sore, and fain would I have known him, but I might not.\nMercy, said Arthur, what knight was that with the covered shield? I\nknow not, said Sir Tristram; and so said they all. Now, said king\nArthur, then wot I, for it is Sir Launcelot. Then they all looked upon\nSir Launcelot and said, Ye have beguiled us with your covered shield.\nIt is not the first time, said Arthur, he hath done so. My lord, said\nSir Launcelot, truly wit ye well I was the same knight that bare the\ncovered shield. And because I would not be known that I was of your\ncourt I said no worship of your house. That is truth, said Sir Gawaine,\nSir Kay, and Sir Bleoberis. Then king Arthur took Sir Tristram by the\nhand, and went to the Table Round. Then came queen Guenever and many\nladies with her, and all the ladies said at one voice, Welcome, Sir\nTristram. Welcome, said the damsels: Welcome, said the knights:\nWelcome, said Arthur, for one of the best knights and the gentlest of\nthe world, and the man of most worship. For of all manner of hunting\nthou bearest the prize, and of all measures of blowing thou art the\nbeginning, and of all the terms of hunting and hawking ye are the\nbeginner: of all instruments of music ye are the best; therefore,\ngentle knight, said Arthur, ye are welcome to this court. And also I\npray you, said Arthur, grant me a boon. It shall be at your\ncommandment, said Tristram. Well, said Arthur, I will desire of you\nthat ye will abide in my court. Sir, said Sir Tristram, thereto is me\nloth, for I have ado in many countries. Not so, said Arthur, ye have\npromised it me, ye may not say nay. Sir, said Sir Tristram, I will as\nye will. Then went Arthur unto the sieges about the Round Table, and\nlooked in every siege the which were void that lacked knights. And then\nthe king saw in the siege of Marhaus letters that said, This is the\nsiege of the noble knight Sir Tristram. And then Arthur made Sir\nTristram knight of the Table Round with great nobley and great feast as\nmight be thought. For Sir Marhaus was slain afore by the hands of Sir\nTristram in an island, and that was well known at that time in the\ncourt of Arthur; for this Marhaus was a worthy knight. And for evil\ndeeds that he did unto the country of Cornwall Sir Tristram and he\nfought. And they fought so long tracing and traversing till they fell\nbleeding to the earth, for they were so sore wounded that they might\nnot stand for bleeding. And Sir Tristram by fortune recovered, and Sir\nMarhaus died through the stroke on the head. So leave we of Sir\nTristram, and speak we of king Mark.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How for the despite of Sir Tristram king Mark came with two knights\n into England, and how he slew one of the knights._\n\nThen king Mark had great despite of the renown of Sir Tristram, and\nthen he chased him out of Cornwall: yet was he nephew unto king Mark,\nbut he had great suspicion unto Sir Tristram, because of his queen, La\nBeale Isoud: for him seemed that there was too much love between them\nboth. So when Sir Tristram departed out of Cornwall into England, king\nMark heard of the great prowess that Sir Tristram did there, the which\ngrieved him sore. So he sent on his party men to espy what deeds he\ndid. And the queen sent privily on her part spies to know what deeds he\nhad done, for great love was between them twain. So when the messagers\nwere come home, they told the truth as they had heard, that he passed\nall other knights, but if it were Sir Launcelot. Then king Mark was\nright heavy of these tidings, and as glad was La Beale Isoud. Then in\ngreat despite he took with him two good knights and two squires, and\ndisguised himself, and took his way into England, to the intent for to\nslay Sir Tristram. And one of these two knights hight Sir Bersules, and\nthe other knight was called Sir Amant. So as they rode, king Mark asked\na knight that he met where he should find king Arthur. He said, at\nCamelot. Also he asked that knight after Sir Tristram, whether he heard\nof him in the court of king Arthur. Wit you well, said that knight, ye\nshall find Sir Tristram there for a man of as great worship as is now\nliving, for through his prowess he won the tournament of the Castle of\nMaidens, that standeth by the Hard Rock. And sithen he hath won with\nhis own hands thirty knights that were men of great honour. And the\nlast battle that ever he did he fought with Sir Launcelot, and that was\na marvellous battle. And not by force Sir Launcelot brought Sir\nTristram to the court, and of him king Arthur made passing great joy,\nand so made him knight of the Table Round, and his seat was where the\ngood knight\u2019s Sir Marhaus seat was. Then was king Mark passing sorry\nwhen he heard of the honour of Sir Tristram, and so they departed. Then\nsaid king Mark unto his two knights, Now will I tell you my counsel; ye\nare the men that I trust most to on live; and I will that ye wit my\ncoming hither is to this intent, for to destroy Sir Tristram by wiles\nor by treason; and it shall be hard if ever he escape our hands. Alas,\nsaid Bersules, what mean you? for ye be set in such a way ye are\ndisposed shamefully. For Sir Tristram is the knight of most worship\nthat we know living, and therefore I warn you plainly I will never\nconsent to do him to the death; and therefore I will yield my service,\nand forsake you. When king Mark heard him say so, suddenly he drew his\nsword, and said, A traitor! and smote Sir Bersules on the head, that\nthe sword went to his teeth. When Amant the knight saw him do that\nvillainous deed, and his squires, they said it was foul done and\nmischievously, wherefore we will do thee no more service; and wit ye\nwell we will appeach thee of treason afore Arthur. Then was king Mark\nwonderly wroth, and would have slain Amant; but he and the two squires\nheld them together, and set nought by his malice. When king Mark saw he\nmight not be revenged on them, he said thus unto the knight Amant, Wit\nthou well, and thou appeach me of treason I shall thereof defend me\nafore king Arthur; but I require thee that thou tell not my name that I\nam king Mark, whatsoever come of me. As for that, said Sir Amant, I\nwill not discover your name. And so they parted; and Amant and his\nfellows took the body of Bersules and buried it.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How king Mark came to a fountain where he found Sir Lamorak\n complaining for the love of king Lot\u2019s wife._\n\nThen king Mark rode till he came to a fountain, and there he rested\nhim, and stood in a doubt whether he would ride to Arthur\u2019s court or\nnone, or return again to his country. And as he thus rested him by that\nfountain, there came by him a knight well armed on horseback, and he\nalight and tied his horse unto a tree, and set him down by the brink of\nthe fountain, and there he made great languor and dole, and made the\ndolefullest complaint of love that ever man heard; and all this while\nwas he not ware of king Mark. And this was a great part of his\ncomplaint, he cried and wept, saying, O fair queen of Orkney, king\nLot\u2019s wife, and mother of Sir Gawaine, and to Sir Gaheris, and mother\nto many other, for thy love I am in great pains. Then king Mark arose,\nand went near him, and said, Fair knight, ye have made a piteous\ncomplaint. Truly, said the knight, it is an hundred part more rueful\nthan my heart can utter. I require you, said king Mark, tell me your\nname. Sir, said he, as for my name, I will not hide it from no knight\nthat beareth a shield, and my name is Sir Lamorak de Galis. But when\nSir Lamorak heard king Mark speak, then wist he well by his speech that\nhe was a Cornish knight. Sir, said Sir Lamorak, I understand by your\ntongue ye be of Cornwall, wherein there dwelleth the shamefullest king\nthat is now living, for he is a great enemy to all good knights; and\nthat proveth well, for he hath chased out of that country Sir Tristram,\nthat is the worshipfullest knight that now is living, and all knights\nspeak of him worship, and for jealousy of his queen he hath chased him\nout of his country. It is pity, said Sir Lamorak, that ever any such\nfalse knight-coward as king Mark is should be matched with such a fair\nlady and good as La Beale Isoud is, for all the world of him speaketh\nshame, and of her worship that any queen may have. I have not ado in\nthis matter, said king Mark, neither nought will I speak thereof. Well\nsaid, said Sir Lamorak. Sir, can ye tell me any tidings? I can tell\nyou, said Sir Lamorak, that there shall be a great tournament in haste\nbeside Camelot, at the castle of Jagent. And the king with the hundred\nknights, and the king of Ireland, as I suppose, make that tournament.\n\nThen there came a knight, that was called Sir Dinadan, and saluted them\nboth. And when he wist that king Mark was a knight of Cornwall, he\nreproved him for the love of king Mark a thousand fold more than did\nSir Lamorak. Then he proffered to just with king Mark. And he was full\nloth thereto; but Sir Dinadan edged him so, that he justed with Sir\nLamorak. And Sir Lamorak smote king Mark so sore that he bare him on\nhis spear end over his horse tail. And then king Mark arose again, and\nfollowed after Sir Lamorak. But Sir Dinadan would not just with Sir\nLamorak, but he told king Mark that Sir Lamorak was Sir Kay the\nseneschal. That is not so, said king Mark, for he is much bigger than\nSir Kay. And so he followed and overtook him, and bad him abide. What\nwill ye do? said Sir Lamorak. Sir, he said, I will fight with a sword,\nfor ye have shamed me with a spear. And therewith they dashed together\nwith swords, and Sir Lamorak suffered him and forbare him. And king\nMark was passing hasty, and smote thick strokes. Sir Lamorak saw he\nwould not stint, and waxed somewhat wroth, and doubled his strokes, for\nhe was one of the noblest knights of the world, and he beat him so on\nthe helm that his head hung nigh on the saddle bow. When Sir Lamorak\nsaw him fare so, he said, Sir knight, what cheer? me seemeth ye have\nnigh your fill of fighting; it were pity to do you any more harm for ye\nare but a mean knight, therefore I give you leave to go where ye list.\nGramercy, said king Mark, for ye and I be not matches. Then Sir Dinadan\nmocked king Mark and said, Ye are not able to match a good knight. As\nfor that, said king Mark, at the first time that I justed with this\nknight ye refused him. Think ye that it is a shame to me? said Sir\nDinadan: nay, sir, it is ever worship to a knight to refuse that thing\nthat he may not attain: therefore your worship had been much more, to\nhave refused him as I did: for I warn you plainly he is able to beat\nfive such as ye and I be; for ye knights of Cornwall are no men of\nworship, as other knights are. And because ye are no men of worship, ye\nhate all men of worship; for never was bred in your country such a\nknight as Sir Tristram.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How king Mark, Sir Lamorak, and Sir Dinadan came to a castle, and how\n king Mark was known there._\n\nThen they rode forth all together, king Mark, Sir Lamorak, and Sir\nDinadan, till that they came unto a bridge. And at the end thereof\nstood a fair tower. Then saw they a knight on horseback, well armed,\nbrandishing a spear, crying and proffering himself to just. Now, said\nSir Dinadan unto king Mark, yonder are two brethren, that one hight\nAllein, and that other hight Trian, that will just with any that\npasseth this passage. Now proffer yourself, said Dinadan to king Mark,\nfor ever ye be laid to the earth. Then king Mark was ashamed, and\ntherewith he feutred his spear, and hurtled to Sir Trian, and either\nbrake their spears all to pieces, and passed through anon. Then Sir\nTrian sent king Mark another spear to just more; but in no wise he\nwould not just no more. Then they came to the castle, all three\nknights, and they prayed the lord of the castle for harbour. Ye are\nright welcome, said the knights of the castle, for the love of the lord\nof this castle, the which hight Sir Tor le Fise Aries. And then they\ncame into a fair court, well repaired. And they had passing good cheer\ntill the lieutenant of this castle that hight Berluse espied king Mark\nof Cornwall. Then said Berluse, Sir knight, I know you better than ye\nween, for ye are king Mark, that slew my father afore mine own eyes,\nand me had ye slain had I not escaped into a wood; but wit ye well for\nthe love of my lord of this castle, I will neither hurt you ne harm\nyou, nor none of your fellowship. But wit ye well when ye are past this\nlodging I shall hurt you and I may, for ye slew my father traitourly.\nBut first for the love of my lord Sir Tor, and for the love of Sir\nLamorak the honourable knight that here is lodged, ye shall have none\nill lodging. For it is pity that ever ye should be in the company of\ngood knights, for ye are the most villainous knight or king that is now\nknown on live; for ye are a destroyer of good knights, and all that ye\ndo is but treason.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How Sir Berluse met with king Mark, and how Sir Dinadan took his part._\n\nThen was king Mark sore ashamed, and said but little again. But when\nSir Lamorak and Sir Dinadan wist that he was king Mark they were sorry\nof his fellowship. So after supper they went to lodging. So on the morn\nthey arose early, and king Mark and Sir Dinadan rode together; and\nthree mile from their lodging there met with them three knights, and\nSir Berluse was one, and the other his two cousins. Sir Berluse saw\nking Mark, and then he cried on high, Traitor, keep thee from me, for\nwit thou well that I am Berluse. Sir knight, said Sir Dinadan, I\ncounsel you to leave off at this time, for he is riding to king Arthur;\nand because I have promised to conduct him to my lord king Arthur,\nneeds must I take a part with him, howbeit I love not his condition,\nand fain I would be from him. Well Dinadan, said Sir Berluse, me\nrepenteth that ye will take part with him, but now do your best. And\nthen he hurtled to king Mark, and smote him sore upon the shield that\nhe bare him clean out of his saddle to the earth. That saw Sir Dinadan,\nand he feutred his spear, and ran to one of Berluse\u2019s fellows, and\nsmote him down off his saddle. Then Dinadan turned his horse, and smote\nthe third knight in the same wise to the earth, for Sir Dinadan was a\ngood knight on horseback. And there began a great battle, for Berluse\nand his fellows held them together strongly on foot. And so through the\ngreat force of Sir Dinadan, king Mark had Sir Berluse to the earth, and\nhis two fellows fled; and had not been Sir Dinadan, king Mark would\nhave slain him; and so Sir Dinadan rescued him of his life, for king\nMark was but a murderer. And then they took their horses and departed,\nand left Sir Berluse there sore wounded. Then king Mark and Sir Dinadan\nrode forth a four leagues English till that they came to a bridge,\nwhere hoved a knight on horseback, armed and ready to just. Lo, said\nSir Dinadan unto king Mark, yonder hoveth a knight that will just, for\nthere shall none pass this bridge but he must just with that knight. It\nis well, said king Mark, for this justs falleth with thee. Sir Dinadan\nknew the knight well that he was a noble knight, and fain he would have\njusted, but he had lever king Mark had justed with him, but by no mean\nking Mark would not just. Then Sir Dinadan might not refuse him in no\nmanner. And then either dressed their spears and their shields and\nsmote together, so that through fine force Sir Dinadan was smitten to\nthe earth. And lightly he arose up, and gat his horse, and required\nthat knight to do battle with swords. And he answered and said, Fair\nknight, as at this time I may not have ado with you no more; for the\ncustom of this passage is such. Then was Sir Dinadan passing wroth,\nthat he might not be revenged of that knight; and so he departed. And\nin no wise would that knight tell his name; but ever Sir Dinadan\nthought that he should know him by his shield that it should be Sir Tor.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How king Mark mocked Sir Dinadan, and how they met with six knights of\n the Round Table._\n\nSo as they rode by the way, king Mark then began to mock Sir Dinadan,\nand said, I wend you knights of the Table Round might in no wise find\ntheir matches. Ye say well, said Sir Dinadan, as for you, on my life I\ncall you none of the best knights; but sith ye have such a despite at\nme, I require you to just with me, to prove my strength. Not so, said\nking Mark, for I will not have ado with you in no manner. But I require\nyou of one thing, that when ye come to Arthur\u2019s court, discover not my\nname, for I am there so hated. It is shame to you, said Sir Dinadan,\nthat ye govern yourself so shamefully; for I see by you ye are full of\ncowardice, and ye are a murderer, and that is the greatest shame that a\nknight may have, for never a knight being a murderer hath worship, nor\nnever shall have. For I saw but late through my force ye would have\nslain Sir Berluse, a better knight than ye, or ever ye shall be, and\nmore of prowess.\n\nThus they rode forth talking, till they came to a fair place where\nstood a knight, and prayed them to take their lodging with him. So at\nthe request of that knight they reposed them there, and made them well\nat ease, and had great cheer. For all errant knights were welcome to\nhim, and especially all those of Arthur\u2019s court. Then Sir Dinadan\ndemanded his host, what was the knight\u2019s name that kept the bridge. For\nwhat cause ask you it? said his host. For it is not long ago, said Sir\nDinadan, since he gave me a fall. Ah, fair knight, said his host,\nthereof have ye no marvel, for he is a passing good knight, and his\nname is Sir Tor, the son of Aries le Vaysher. Ah, said Sir Dinadan, was\nthat Sir Tor, for truly so ever me thought. Right as they stood thus\ntalking together, they saw come riding to them over a plain six knights\nof the court of king Arthur, well armed at all points. And there by\ntheir shields Sir Dinadan knew them well. The first was the good knight\nSir Uwaine, the son of king Uriens; the second was the noble knight Sir\nBrandiles; the third was Ozana le Cure Hardy; the fourth was Uwaine les\nAdventurous; the fifth was Sir Agravaine; the sixth Sir Mordred,\nbrother to Sir Gawaine. When Sir Dinadan had seen these six knights, he\nthought in himself he would bring king Mark by some wile to just with\none of them. And anon they took their horses and ran after these\nknights well a three mile English. Then was king Mark ware where they\nsat all six about a well, and eat and drank such meats as they had, and\ntheir horses walking and some tied, and their shields hung in divers\nplaces about them. Lo, said Sir Dinadan, yonder are knights errant that\nwill just with us. God forbid, said king Mark, for they be six, and we\nbut two. As for that, said Sir Dinadan, let us not spare, for I will\nassay the foremost. And therewith he made him ready. When king Mark saw\nhim do so, as fast as Sir Dinadan rode toward them king Mark rode\nfroward them with all his menial company. So when Sir Dinadan saw king\nMark was gone, he set the spear out of the rest, and threw his shield\nupon his back, and came riding to the fellowship of the Table Round.\nAnd anon Sir Uwaine knew Sir Dinadan, and welcomed him, and so did all\nhis fellowship.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How the six knights sent Sir Dagonet to just with king Mark, and how\n king Mark refused him._\n\nAnd then they asked him of his adventures, and whether he had seen Sir\nTristram, or Sir Launcelot. Truly, said Sir Dinadan, I saw none of them\nsince I departed from Camelot. What knight is that, said Sir Brandiles,\nthat so suddenly departed from you, and rode over yonder field? Sir,\nsaid he, it was a knight of Cornwall, and the most horrible coward that\never bestrode horse. What is his name? said all the knights. I wot not,\nsaid Sir Dinadan. So when they had reposed them, and spoken together,\nthey took their horses and rode to a castle where dwelled an old knight\nthat made all knights errant good cheer. Then in the mean while that\nthey were talking came into the castle Sir Griflet le Fise de Dieu, and\nthere was he welcome, and they asked him whether he had seen Sir\nLauncelot or Sir Tristram? Sirs, he answered, I saw him not since he\ndeparted from Camelot. So as Sir Dinadan walked and beheld the castle,\nthereby in a chamber he espied king Mark, and then he rebuked him, and\nasked him why he departed so? Sir, said he, for I durst not abide\nbecause they were so many. But how escaped ye? said king Mark. Sir,\nsaid Sir Dinadan, they were better friends than I wend they had been.\nWho is captain of that fellowship? said the king. Then for to fear him\nSir Dinadan said it was Sir Launcelot. Oh, said the king, might I know\nSir Launcelot by his shield? Yea, said Dinadan, for he beareth a shield\nof silver and black bends. All this he said to fear the king, for Sir\nLauncelot was not in his fellowship. Now I pray you, said king Mark,\nthat ye will ride in my fellowship? That is me loth to do, said Sir\nDinadan, because ye forsook my fellowship. Right so Sir Dinadan went\nfrom king Mark and went to his own fellowship. And so they mounted upon\ntheir horses, and rode on their ways, and talked of the Cornish knight,\nfor Dinadan told them that he was in the castle where they were lodged.\nIt is well said, said Sir Griflet, for here have I brought Sir Dagonet\nking Arthur\u2019s fool, that is the best fellow and the merriest in the\nworld. Will ye do well? said Sir Dinadan; I have told the Cornish\nknight that here is Sir Launcelot, and the Cornish knight asked me what\nshield he bare. Truly I told him that he bare the same shield that Sir\nMordred beareth. Will ye do well? said Sir Mordred; I am hurt and may\nnot well bear my shield nor harness, and therefore put my shield and my\nharness upon Sir Dagonet, and let him set upon the Cornish knight. That\nshall be done, said Sir Dagonet, by my faith. Then anon was Dagonet\narmed in Mordred\u2019s harness and his shield, and he was set on a great\nhorse and a spear in his hand. Now, said Dagonet, shew me the knight,\nand I trow I shall bear him down. So all these knights rode to a wood\nside, and abode till king Mark came by the way. Then they put forth Sir\nDagonet, and he came on all the while his horse might run, straight\nupon king Mark. And when he came nigh king Mark, he cried as he were\nwood, and said, Keep thee, knight of Cornwall, for I will slay thee.\nAnon as king Mark beheld his shield he said to himself, Yonder is Sir\nLauncelot: alas, now am I destroyed. And therewithal he made his horse\nto run as fast as it might through thick and thin. And ever Sir Dagonet\nfollowed king Mark crying and rating him as a wood man through a great\nforest. When Sir Uwaine and Sir Brandiles saw Dagonet so chase king\nMark, they laughed all as they were wood. And then they took their\nhorses and rode after to see how Sir Dagonet sped. For they would not\nfor no good that Sir Dagonet were hurt, for king Arthur loved him\npassing well, and made him knight with his own hands. And at every\ntournament he began to make king Arthur to laugh. Then the knights rode\nhere and there crying and chasing after king Mark, that all the forest\nrang of the noise.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_How Sir Palamides by adventure met king Mark flying, and how he\n overthrew Dagonet and other knights._\n\nSo king Mark rode by fortune by a well in the way where stood a knight\nerrant on horseback armed at all points with a great spear in his hand.\nAnd when he saw king Mark coming flying he said, Knight, return again\nfor shame, and stand with me, and I shall be thy warrant. Ah, fair\nknight, said king Mark, let me pass, for yonder cometh after me the\nbest knight of the world, with the black bended shield. Fie for shame,\nsaid the knight, he is none of the worthy knights. And if he were Sir\nLauncelot or Sir Tristram I should not doubt to meet the better of them\nboth. When king Mark heard him say that word he turned his horse and\nabode by him. And then that strong knight bare a spear to Dagonet, and\nsmote him so sore that he bare him over his horse tail, and nigh he had\nbroken his neck. And anon after him came Sir Brandiles, and when he saw\nDagonet have that fall he was passing wroth, and cried, Keep thee\nknight! And so they hurtled together wonderous sore. But the knight\nsmote Sir Brandiles so sore that he went to the earth, horse and man.\nSir Uwaine came after and saw all this. Truly, said he, yonder is a\nstrong knight. And then they feutred their spears, and this knight came\nso eagerly that he smote down Sir Uwaine. Then came Ozana with the\nhardy heart, and he was smitten down. Now, said Sir Griflet, by my\ncounsel let us send to yonder errant knight, and wit whether he be of\nArthur\u2019s court, for, as I deem, it is Sir Lamorak de Galis. So they\nsent unto him, and prayed the strange knight to tell his name, and\nwhether he were of Arthur\u2019s court or not. As for my name they shall not\nwit, but tell them I am a knight errant as they are: and let them wit\nthat I am no knight of king Arthur\u2019s court. And so the squire rode\nagain to them, and told them his answer of him. By my head, said Sir\nAgravaine, he is one of the strongest knights that ever I saw, for he\nhath overthrown three noble knights, and needs we must encounter with\nhim for shame. So Sir Agravaine feutred his spear, and that other was\nready, and smote him down over his horse to the earth. And in the same\nwise he smote Sir Uwaine les Avoutres and also Sir Griflet. Then had he\nserved them all but Sir Dinadan, for he was behind, and Sir Mordred was\nunarmed, and Dagonet had his harness. So when this was done this strong\nknight rode on his way a soft pace, and king Mark rode after him\npraising him much, but he would answer no words, but sighed wonderly\nsore, hanging down his head, taking no heed to his words. Thus they\nrode well a three mile English, and then this knight called to him a\nvarlet and bad him, Ride until yonder fair manor, and recommend me to\nthe lady of that castle and place, and pray her to send me refreshing\nof good meats and drinks. And if she ask thee what I am, tell her that\nI am the knight that followeth the glatisant beast,\u2014that is in English\nto say the questing beast. For that beast wheresoever he went he\nquested with such a noise as it had been a thirty couple of hounds.\n\nThen the varlet went his way, and came to the manor and saluted the\nlady, and told her from whence he came. And when she understood that he\ncame from the knight that followed the questing beast, O sweet Lord\nJesu, she said, when shall I see that noble knight, my dear son\nPalamides. Alas, will he not abide with me! And therewith she swooned\nand wept and made passing great dole. And then all so soon as she might\nshe gave the varlet all that he asked. And the varlet returned unto Sir\nPalamides, for he was a varlet of king Mark. And as soon as he came he\ntold the knight\u2019s name was Sir Palamides. I am well pleased, said king\nMark, but hold thee still and say nothing. Then they alight, and set\nthem down and reposed them awhile. Anon withal king Mark fell on sleep.\nWhen Sir Palamides found him sound asleep he took his horse and rode\nhis way, and said to them, I will not be in the company of a sleeping\nknight. And so he rode forth a great pace.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How king Mark and Sir Dinadan heard Sir Palamides making great sorrow\n and mourning for La Beale Isoud._\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Dinadan that found these seven knights passing\nheavy. And when he wist how that they sped, as heavy was he. My lord\nUwaine, said Dinadan, I dare lay my head it is Sir Lamorak de Galis; I\npromise you all I shall find him and he may be found in this country.\nAnd so Sir Dinadan rode after this knight. And so did king Mark, that\nsought him through the forest. So as king Mark rode after Sir\nPalamides, he heard a noise of a man that made great dole. Then king\nMark rode as nigh that noise as he might and as he durst. Then was he\nware of a knight that was descended off his horse and had put off his\nhelm, and there he made a piteous complaint and a dolorous of love.\n\nNow leave we that, and talk we of Sir Dinadan, that rode to seek Sir\nPalamides. And as he came within a forest, he met with a knight a\nchaser of a deer. Sir, said Sir Dinadan, met ye with a knight with a\nshield of silver and lions\u2019 heads? Yea, fair knight, said the other,\nwith such a knight met I with but a while ago, and straight yonder way\nbe went. Gramercy, said Sir Dinadan, for might I find the track of his\nhorse, I should not fail to find that knight. Right so as Sir Dinadan\nrode in the even late, he heard a doleful noise, as it were of a man.\nThen Sir Dinadan rode toward that noise. And when he came nigh that\nnoise, he alight off his horse and went near him on foot. Then was he\nware of a knight that stood under a tree, and his horse tied by him,\nand the helm off his head. And ever that knight made a doleful\ncomplaint as ever made knight. And always he made his complaint of La\nBeale Isoud the queen of Cornwall, and said, Ah fair lady, why love I\nthee, for thou art fairest of all other, and yet shewest thou never\nlove to me nor bounty. Alas, yet must I love thee. And I may not blame\nthee fair lady, for mine eyes be cause of this sorrow. And yet to love\nthee I am but a fool, for the best knight of the world loveth thee, and\nye him again, that is Sir Tristram de Liones. And the falsest king and\nknight is your husband, and the most coward and full of treason is your\nlord king Mark. Alas, that ever so fair a lady and peerless of all\nother should be matched with the most villainous knight of the world.\nAll this language heard king Mark what Sir Palamides said by him.\nWherefore he was adread when he saw Sir Dinadan, lest, and he espied\nhim, that he would tell Sir Palamides that he was king Mark; and\ntherefore he withdrew him, and took his horse and rode to his men where\nhe commanded them to abide. And so he rode as fast as he might unto\nCamelot. And the same day he found there Amant the knight ready, that\nbefore king Arthur had appealed him of treason. And so lightly the king\ncommanded them to do battle. And by misadventure king Mark smote Amant\nthrough the body. And yet was Amant in the righteous quarrel. And right\nso he took his horse and departed from the court for dread of Sir\nDinadan, that he would tell Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides what he was.\nThen were there maidens that La Beale Isoud had sent to Sir Tristram\nthat knew Sir Amant well.\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n_How king Mark had slain Sir Amant wrongfully tofore king Arthur, and\n Sir Launcelot fetched king Mark to king Arthur._\n\nThen by the licence of king Arthur they went to him, and spake with\nhim, for while the truncheon of the spear stuck in his body he spake:\nAh, fair damsels, said Amant, recommend me unto La Beale Isoud, and\ntell her that I am slain for the love of her and of Sir Tristram. And\nthere he told the damsels how cowardly king Mark had slain him and Sir\nBersules his fellow:\u2014And for that deed I appealed him of treason, and\nhere I am slain in a righteous quarrel; and all was because Sir\nBersules and I would not consent by treason to slay the noble knight\nSir Tristram. Then the two maidens cried aloud that all the court might\nhear it, and said, O sweet Lord Jesu that knoweth all hid things, why\nsufferest thou so false a traitor to vanquish and slay a true knight\nthat fought in a righteous quarrel! Then anon it was sprung to the king\nand the queen, and to all lords and ladies, that it was king Mark that\nhad slain Sir Amant, and Sir Bersules afore hand, wherefore they did\ntheir battle. Then was king Arthur wroth out of measure, and so were\nall the other knights.\n\nBut when Sir Tristram knew all the matter, he made great dole out of\nmeasure, and wept for sorrow for loss of the noble knights Sir Bersules\nand Sir Amant. When Sir Launcelot espied Sir Tristram weep, he went\nhastily to king Arthur, and said, Sir, I pray you give me leave to\nreturn again to yonder false king and knight. I pray you, said king\nArthur, fetch him again, but I would not that ye slew him for my\nworship. Then Sir Launcelot armed him in all haste, and mounted upon a\ngreat horse, and took a spear in his hand and rode after king Mark. And\nfrom thence a three mile English Sir Launcelot overtook him, and bad\nhim\u2014Turn recreant king and knight: for whether thou wilt or not thou\nshalt go with me to king Arthur\u2019s court. King Mark returned and looked\nupon Sir Launcelot and said, Fair sir, what is your name? Wit thou\nwell, said he, my name is Sir Launcelot, and therefore defend thee. And\nwhen king Mark wist that it was Sir Launcelot, and came so fast upon\nhim with a spear, he cried then aloud, I yield me to thee Sir\nLauncelot, honourable knight. But Sir Launcelot would not hear him, but\ncame fast upon him. King Mark saw that, and made no defence, but\ntumbled down out of his saddle to the earth as a sack, and there he lay\nstill, and cried Sir Launcelot mercy.\u2014Arise, recreant knight and\nking.\u2014I will not fight, said king Mark; but whither that ye will I\nwill go with you. Alas, alas, said Sir Launcelot, that I may not give\nthee one buffet for the love of Sir Tristram and of La Beale Isoud, and\nfor the two knights that thou hast slain traitourly. And so he mounted\nupon his horse, and brought him to king Arthur. And there king Mark\nalight in that same place, and threw his helm from him upon the earth,\nand his sword, and fell flat to the earth of king Arthur\u2019s feet, and\nput him in his grace and mercy. Truly, said Arthur, ye are welcome in a\nmanner, and in a manner ye are not welcome. In this manner ye are\nwelcome, that ye come hither maugre your head, as I suppose. That is\ntruth, said king Mark, and else I had not been here: for my lord Sir\nLauncelot brought me hither through his fine force, and to him am I\nyielden to as recreant. Well, said Arthur, ye understand ye ought to do\nme service, homage, and fealty, and never would ye do me none, but ever\nye have been against me, and a destroyer of my knights: now how will ye\nacquit you? Sir, said king Mark, right as your lordship will require\nme, unto my power I will make a large amends. For he was a fair speaker\nand false there under. Then for great pleasure of Sir Tristram, to make\nthem twain accorded, the king withheld king Mark as at that time, and\nmade a broken love day between them.\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n_How Sir Dinadan told Sir Palamides of the battle between Sir Launcelot\n and Sir Tristram._\n\nNow turn we again unto Sir Palamides, how Sir Dinadan comforted him in\nall that he might from his great sorrow. What knight are ye? said Sir\nPalamides. Sir, I am a knight errant as ye be, that hath sought you\nlong by your shield. Here is my shield, said Sir Palamides, wit ye\nwell, and ye will aught therewith, I will defend it. Nay, said Sir\nDinadan, I will not have ado with you but in good manner. And if ye\nwill ye shall find me soon ready. Sir, said Sir Dinadan, whitherward\nride you this way? By my head, said Sir Palamides, I wot not, but as\nfortune leadeth me. Heard ye or saw ye ought of Sir Tristram?\u2014Truly of\nSir Tristram I both heard and saw, and not for then we loved not\ninwardly well together, yet at my mischief Sir Tristram rescued me from\nmy death: and yet or he and I departed, by both our assents we assigned\na day that we should have met at the stony grave that Merlin set beside\nCamelot, and there to have done battle together, howbeit I was letted,\nsaid Sir Palamides, that I might not hold my day, the which grieveth me\nsore; but I have a large excuse, for I was prisoner with a lord, and\nmany other more, and that shall Sir Tristram right well understand,\nthat I brake it not of fear of cowardice. And then Sir Palamides told\nSir Dinadan the same day that they should have met. Truly, said Sir\nDinadan, that same day met Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristram at the same\ngrave of stone. And there was the most mightiest battle that ever was\nseen in this land betwixt two knights, for they fought more than two\nhours, and there they both bled so much blood that all men marvelled\nthat ever they might endure it. And so at the last by both their\nassents they were made friends and sworn brethren for ever, and no man\ncan judge the better knight. And now is Sir Tristram made a knight of\nthe Round Table, and he sitteth in the siege of the noble knight Sir\nMarhaus. By my head, said Sir Palamides, Sir Tristram is far bigger\nthan Sir Launcelot, and the hardier knight. Have ye assayed them both?\nsaid Sir Dinadan. I have seen Sir Tristram fight, said Sir Palamides,\nbut never Sir Launcelot to my witting.\u2014But at the fountain where Sir\nLauncelot lay on sleep, there with one spear he smote down Sir Tristram\nand Sir Palamides, but at that time they knew not either other. Fair\nknight, said Sir Dinadan, as for Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristram let\nthem be, for the worst of them will not be lightly matched of no knight\nthat I know living. No, said Sir Palamides; but and I had a quarrel to\nthe better of them both, I would with as good a will fight with him as\nwith you. Sir, said Sir Dinadan, I require you tell me your name, and\nin good faith I shall hold you company till that we come to Camelot,\nand there ye shall have great worship now at this great tournament; for\nthere shall be queen Guenever and La Beale Isoud of Cornwall. Wit you\nwell, Sir knight, said Sir Palamides, for the love of La Beale Isoud I\nwill be there, and else not, but I will not have ado in king Arthur\u2019s\ncourt. Sir, said Dinadan, I shall ride with you and do you service, so\nye will tell me your name. Sir knight, ye shall understand that my name\nis Sir Palamides, brother to Sir Safere, the good and noble knight, and\nSir Segwarides and I we be Saracens born of father and mother. Sir,\nsaid Sir Dinadan, I thank you much for the telling of your name. For I\nam glad of that I know your name, and I promise you by the faith of my\nbody ye shall not be hurt by me by my will, but rather be advanced. And\nthereto will I help you with all my power I promise you, doubt ye not.\nAnd certainly on my life ye shall win great worship in the court of\nking Arthur, and be right welcome. So then they dressed on their helms\nand put on their shields, and mounted upon their horses, and took the\nbroad way toward Camelot. And then were they ware of a castle that was\nfair and rich, and also passing strong as any was within this realm.\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n_How Sir Lamorak justed with divers knights of the castle wherein was\n Morgan le Fay._\n\nSir Palamides, said Dinadan, here is a castle that I know well, and\ntherein dwelleth queen Morgan le Fay, king Arthur\u2019s sister, and king\nArthur gave her this castle, the which he hath repented him since a\nthousand times; for since king Arthur and she have been at debate and\nstrife; but this castle could he never get nor win of her by no manner\nof engine; and ever as she might she made war on king Arthur. And all\ndangerous knights she withholdeth with her for to destroy all these\nknights that king Arthur loveth. And there shall no knight pass this\nway but he must just with one knight, or with two or with three. And if\nit hap that king Arthur\u2019s knight be beaten, he shall lose his horse and\nhis harness and all that he hath, and hard if that he escape but that\nhe shall be prisoner. Truly, said Palamides, this is a shameful custom,\nand a villainous usage for a queen to use, and, namely, to make such\nwar upon her own lord that is called the flower of chivalry that is\nchristian or heathen, and with all my heart I would destroy that\nshameful custom. And I will that all the world wit she shall have no\nservice of me. And if she send out any knights, as I suppose she will,\nfor to just, they shall have both their hands full. And I shall not\nfail you, said Sir Dinadan, unto my puissance, upon my life. So as they\nstood on horseback afore the castle there came a knight with a red\nshield, and two squires after him. And he came straight unto Sir\nPalamides the good knight, and said to him, Fair and gentle knight\nerrant, I require thee for the love thou owest unto knighthood, that ye\nwill not have ado here with these men of this castle. (For this was Sir\nLamorak that thus said.) For I came hitherto to seek this deed, and it\nis my request. And therefore I beseech you, knight, let me deal, and if\nI be beaten revenge me. Well, said Palamides, let see how ye will\nspeed, and we shall behold you. Then anon came forth a knight of the\ncastle, and proffered to just with the knight with the red shield. Anon\nthey encountered together, and he with the red shield smote him so hard\nthat he bare him over to the earth. Therewith anon came another knight\nof the castle, and he was smitten so sore that he avoided his saddle.\nAnd forthwith came the third knight, and the knight with the red shield\nsmote him to the earth. Then came Sir Palamides and besought him that\nhe might help him to just. Fair knight, said he unto him, suffer me as\nat this time to have my will, for and they were twenty knights I shall\nnot doubt them. And ever there were upon the walls of the castle many\nlords and ladies that cried and said, Well have ye justed, knight with\nthe red shield. But as soon as the knight had smitten them down, his\nsquire took their horses and avoided the saddles and bridles of their\nhorses, and turned them into the forest, and made the knights to be\nkept to the end of the justs. Right so came out of the castle the\nfourth knight, and freshly proffered to just with the knight with the\nred shield. And he was ready, and he smote him so hard that horse and\nman fell to the earth, and the knight\u2019s back brake with the fall, and\nhis neck also. Truly, said Sir Palamides, that yonder is a passing good\nknight, and the best juster that ever I saw. By my head, said Sir\nDinadan, he is as good as ever was Sir Launcelot or Sir Tristram, what\nknight somever he be.\n\n\n CHAP. XVIII.\n\n_How Sir Palamides would have justed for Sir Lamorak with the knights\n of the castle._\n\nThen forthwithal came out a knight of the castle with a shield bended\nwith black and with white. And anon the knight with the red shield and\nhe encountered together so hard that he smote the knight of the castle\nthrough the bended shield and through the body, and brake the horse\u2019s\nback. Fair knight, said Sir Palamides, ye have overmuch in hand,\ntherefore I pray you let me just, for ye had need to be reposed. Why\nsir, said the knight, seem ye that I am weak and feeble? and, sir, me\nthinketh ye proffer me wrong, and to me shame, when I do well enough. I\ntell you now as I told you erst, for and they were twenty knights I\nshall beat them. And if I be beaten or slain then may ye revenge me.\nAnd if ye think that I be weary, and ye have an appetite to just with\nme, I shall find you justing enough. Sir, said Palamides, I said it not\nbecause I would just with you, but me seemeth that ye have overmuch on\nhand. And therefore, and ye were gentle, said the knight with the red\nshield, ye should not proffer me shame; therefore I require you to just\nwith me, and ye shall find that I am not weary. Sith ye require me,\nsaid Sir Palamides, take keep to yourself. Then they two knights came\ntogether as fast as their horses might run, and the knight smote Sir\nPalamides so sore on the shield that the spear went into his side, a\ngreat wound and a perilous. And therewithal Sir Palamides voided his\nsaddle. And that knight turned unto Sir Dinadan. And when he saw him\ncoming, he cried aloud and said, Sir, I will not have ado with you. But\nfor that he let it not, but came straight upon him. So Sir Dinadan for\nshame put forth his spear and all to-shivered it upon the knight. But\nhe smote Sir Dinadan again so hard that he smote him clean from his\nsaddle; but their horses he would not suffer his squires to meddle\nwith, and because they were knights errant. Then he dressed him again\nto the castle, and justed with seven knights more, and there was none\nof them might withstand him, but he bare him to the earth. And of these\ntwelve knights he slew in plain justs four. And the eight knights he\nmade them to swear on the cross of a sword that they should never use\nthe evil customs of the castle. And when he had made them to swear that\noath, he let them pass. And ever stood the lords and the ladies on the\ncastle walls crying and saying, Knight with the red shield, ye have\nmarvellously well done, as ever we saw knight do. And therewith came a\nknight out of the castle unarmed, and said, Knight with the red shield,\novermuch damage hast thou done to us this day, therefore return whither\nthou wilt, for here are no more that will have ado with thee, for we\nrepent sore that ever thou camest here, for by thee is fordone the old\ncustom of this castle. And with that word he turned again into the\ncastle, and shut the gates. Then the knight with the red shield turned\nand called his squires, and so past forth on his way, and rode a great\npace. And when he was past, Sir Palamides went to Sir Dinadan and said,\nI had never such a shame of one knight that ever I met, and therefore I\ncast me to ride after him, and to be revenged with my sword. For a\nhorseback I deem I shall get no worship of him. Sir Palamides, said\nDinadan, ye shall not meddle with him by my counsel, for ye shall get\nno worship of him, and for this cause,\u2014ye have seen him this day have\nhad overmuch to do, and overmuch travailed. Truly, said Sir Palamides,\nI shall never be at ease till that I have had ado with him. Sir, said\nDinadan, I shall give you my beholding. Well, said Sir Palamides, then\nshall ye see how we shall redress our mights. So they took their horses\nof their varlets, and rode after the knight with the red shield; and\ndown in a valley beside a fountain they were ware where he was alight\nto repose him, and had done off his helm for to drink at the well.\n\n\n CHAP. XIX.\n\n_How Sir Lamorak justed with Sir Palamides and hurt him grievously._\n\nThen Palamides rode fast till he came nigh him. And then he said,\nKnight, remember ye of the shame ye did to me right now at the castle,\ntherefore dress thee, for I will have ado with thee. Fair knight, said\nhe unto Sir Palamides, of me ye win no worship, for ye have seen this\nday that I have been travailed sore. As for that, said Palamides, I\nwill not let; for wit ye well I will be revenged. Well, said the\nknight, I may happen to endure you. And therewithal he mounted upon his\nhorse, and took a great spear in his hand, ready for to just. Nay, said\nPalamides, I will not just, for I am sure at justing I get no prize.\nFair knight, said that knight, it would beseem a knight to just and to\nfight on horseback. Ye shall see what I will do, said Palamides. And\ntherewith he alight down upon foot, and dressed his shield afore him,\nand pulled out his sword. Then the knight with the red shield descended\ndown from his horse, and dressed his shield afore him, and so he drew\nout his sword. And then they came together a soft pace, and wonderly\nthey lashed together passing thick, the mountenance of an hour, or ever\nthey breathed. Then they traced and traversed, and waxed wonderly\nwroth, and either behight other death. They hewed so fast with their\nswords, that they cut in down half their swords and mails, that the\nbare flesh in some places stood above their harness. And when Sir\nPalamides beheld his fellow\u2019s sword over covered with his blood, it\ngrieved him sore. Somewhile they foined, somewhile they strake as wild\nmen. But at the last Sir Palamides waxed faint, because of his first\nwound that he had at the castle with a spear, for that wound grieved\nhim wonderly sore. Fair knight, said Palamides, me seemeth we have\nassayed either other passing sore, and if it may please thee I require\nthee of thy knighthood tell me thy name. Sir, said the knight to\nPalamides, that is me loth to do, for thou hast done me wrong and no\nknighthood to proffer me battle, considering my great travail: but and\nthou wilt tell me thy name, I will tell thee mine. Sir, said he, wit\nthou well my name is Palamides. Ah sir, ye shall understand my name is\nSir Lamorak de Galis, son and heir unto the good knight and king, king\nPellinore; and Sir Tor the good knight is my half brother. When Sir\nPalamides heard him say so, he kneeled down and asked mercy: For\noutrageously have I done to you this day, considering the great deeds\nof arms I have seen you do, shamefully and unknightly I have required\nyou to do battle. Ah, Sir Palamides, said Sir Lamorak, over much have\nye done and said to me. And therewith he embraced him with both his\nhands, and said, Palamides the worthy knight, in all this land is no\nbetter than ye, nor of more prowess, and me repented sore that we\nshould fight together. So it doth not me, said Sir Palamides, and yet\nam I sorer wounded than ye be; but as for that, I shall soon thereof be\nwhole. But certainly I would not for the fairest castle in this land\nbut if thou and I had met, for I shall love you the days of my life\nafore all other knights, except my brother Sir Safere. I say the same,\nsaid Sir Lamorak, except my brother Sir Tor. Then came Sir Dinadan, and\nhe made great joy of Sir Lamorak. Then their squires dressed both their\nshields and their harness, and stopped their wounds. And thereby at a\npriory they rested them all night.\n\n\n CHAP. XX.\n\n_How it was told Sir Launcelot that Dagonet chased king Mark, and how a\n knight overthrew him and six knights._\n\nNow turn we again, when Sir Uwaine and Sir Brandiles with his fellows\ncame to the court of king Arthur: they told the king, Sir Launcelot,\nand Sir Tristram how Sir Dagonet the fool chased king Mark through the\nforest, and how the strong knight smote them down all seven with one\nspear. There was great laughing and jesting at king Mark and at Sir\nDagonet. But all these knights could not tell what knight it was that\nrescued king Mark. Then they asked king Mark if that he knew him. And\nhe answered and said, He named himself the knight that followed the\nquesting beast, and on that name he sent one of my varlets to a place\nwhere was his mother, and when she heard from whence he came, she made\npassing great dole, and discovered to my varlet his name, and said, O\nmy dear son, Sir Palamides, why wilt thou not see me? and therefore,\nSir, said king Mark, it is to understand his name is Sir Palamides, a\nnoble knight. Then were all these seven knights glad that they knew his\nname. Now turn we again, for on the morn they took their horses, both\nSir Lamorak, Palamides, and Dinadan, with their squires and varlets,\ntill they saw a fair castle that stood on a mountain well closed. And\nthither they rode, and there they found a knight that hight Galahalt,\nthat was lord of that castle. And there they had great cheer, and were\nwell eased. Sir Dinadan, said Sir Lamorak, what will ye do? O sir, said\nDinadan, I will to-morrow to the court of king Arthur. By my head, said\nSir Palamides, I will not ride these three days, for I am sore hurt and\nmuch have I bled, and therefore I will repose me here. Truly, said Sir\nLamorak, and I will abide here with you. And when ye ride then will I\nride, unless that ye tarry over long, then will I take my horse.\nTherefore I pray you, Sir Dinadan, abide and ride with us. Faithfully,\nsaid Dinadan, I will not abide, for I have such a talent to see Sir\nTristram that I may not abide long from him. Ah, Dinadan, said Sir\nPalamides, now do I understand that ye love my mortal enemy, and\ntherefore how should I trust you? Well, said Dinadan, I love my lord\nSir Tristram above all other, and him will I serve and do honour. So\nshall I, said Sir Lamorak, in all that may lie in my power. So on the\nmorn Sir Dinadan rode unto the court of king Arthur. And by the way as\nhe rode he saw where stood an errant knight, and made him ready for to\njust. Not so, said Sir Dinadan, for I have no will to just. With me\nshall ye just, said the knight, or that ye pass this way. Whether ask\nye justs? by love or by hate? The knight answered, Wit ye well I ask it\nfor love, and not for hate. It may well be so, said Sir Dinadan, but ye\nproffer me hard love, when ye will just with me with a sharp spear. But\nfair knight, said Sir Dinadan, sith ye will just with me, meet with me\nin the court of king Arthur, and there shall I just with you. Well,\nsaid the knight, sith ye will not just with me, I pray you tell me your\nname. Sir knight, said he, my name is Sir Dinadan. Ah, said the knight,\nfull well know I you for a good knight and a gentle, and wit you well I\nlove you heartily. Then shall here be no justs, said Dinadan, betwixt\nus. So they departed. And the same day he came to Camelot where lay\nking Arthur. And there he saluted the king and the queen, Sir Launcelot\nand Sir Tristram. And all the court was glad of Sir Dinadan, for he was\ngentle, wise, and courteous, and a good knight. And in especial the\nvaliant knight Sir Tristam loved Sir Dinadan passing well above all\nother knights save Sir Launcelot. Then the king asked Sir Dinadan what\nadventures he had seen. Sir, said Dinadan, I have seen many adventures,\nand of some king Mark knoweth, but not all. Then the king hearkened Sir\nDinadan how he told that Sir Palamides and he were afore the castle of\nMorgan le Fay, and how Sir Lamorak took the justs afore them, and how\nhe forjusted twelve knights, and of them four he slew, and how after he\nsmote down Sir Palamides and me both. I may not believe that, said the\nking, for Sir Palamides is a passing good knight. That is very truth,\nsaid Sir Dinadan, but yet I saw him better proved hand for hand. And\nthen he told the king all that battle, and how Sir Palamides was more\nweaker and more hurt, and more lost of his blood. And without doubt,\nsaid Sir Dinadan, had the battle longer lasted Palamides had been\nslain. Oh, said king Arthur, this is to me a great marvel. Sir, said\nTristram, marvel ye no thing thereof, for at mine advice there is not a\nvalianter knight in all the world living, for I know his might. And now\nI will say you, I was never so weary of knight but if it were Sir\nLauncelot. And there is no knight in the world except Sir Launcelot I\nwould did so well as Sir Lamorak. Truly, said the king, I would that\nknight Sir Lamorak came to this court. Sir, said Dinadan, he will be\nhere in short space and Sir Palamides both. But I fear that Palamides\nmay not yet travel.\n\n\n CHAP. XXI.\n\n_How king Arthur let do cry a justs, and how Sir Lamorak came in and\n overthrew Sir Gawaine and many other._\n\nThen within three days after the king let make a justing at a priory.\nAnd there made them ready many knights of the Round Table. For Sir\nGawaine and his brethren made them ready to just. But Tristram,\nLauncelot, nor Dinadan, would not just, but suffered Sir Gawaine, for\nthe love of king Arthur, with his brethren, to win the gree if they\nmight. Then on the morn they apparelled them to just, Sir Gawaine and\nhis four brethren, and did there great deeds of arms. And Sir Ector de\nMaris did marvellously well; but Sir Gawaine passed all that\nfellowship, wherefore king Arthur and all the knights gave Sir Gawaine\nthe honour at the beginning. Right so king Arthur was ware of a knight\nand two squires the which came out of a forest side, with a shield\ncovered with leather, and then he came slily and hurtled here and\nthere, and anon with one spear he had smitten down two knights of the\nRound Table. Then with his hurtling he lost the covering of his shield.\nThen was the king and all other ware that he bare a red shield. Oh,\nsaid king Arthur, see where rideth a stout knight, he with the red\nshield. And there was noise and crying, Beware the knight with the red\nshield. So within a little while he had overthrown three brethren of\nSir Gawaine\u2019s. Truly, said king Arthur, me seemeth yonder is the best\njuster that ever I saw. With that he saw him encounter with Sir\nGawaine, and he smote him down with so great force, that he made his\nhorse to avoid his saddle. How now, said the king, Sir Gawaine hath a\nfall, well were me and I knew what knight he were with the red shield.\nI know him well, said Dinadan, but as at this time ye shall not know\nhis name. By my head, said Sir Tristram, he justed better than Sir\nPalamides, and if ye list to know his name, wit ye well his name is Sir\nLamorak de Galis. As they stood thus talking, Sir Gawaine and he\nencountered together again, and there he smote Sir Gawaine from his\nhorse, and bruised him sore. And in the sight of king Arthur he smote\ndown twenty knights beside Sir Gawaine and his brethren. And so clearly\nwas the prize given him as a knight peerless. Then slily and\nmarvellously Sir Lamorak withdrew him from all the fellowship into the\nforest side. All this espied king Arthur, for his eye went never from\nhim.\n\nThen the king, Sir Launcelot, Sir Tristram, and Sir Dinadan took their\nhacknies and rode straight after the good knight Sir Lamorak de Galis,\nand there found him. And thus said the king, Ah fair knight, well be ye\nfound. When he saw the king he put off his helm and saluted him. And\nwhen he saw Sir Tristram he alight down off his horse, and ran to him\nfor to take him by the thighs; but Sir Tristram would not suffer him,\nbut he alight or that he came, and either took other in arms, and made\ngreat joy of other. The king was glad, and also was all the fellowship\nof the Round Table, except Sir Gawaine and his brethren. And when they\nwist that he was Sir Lamorak, they had great despite at him, and were\nwonderly wroth with him, that he had put them to dishonour that day.\nThen Gawaine called privily in counsel all his brethren, and to them\nsaid thus: Fair brethren, here may ye see whom that we hate king Arthur\nloveth, and whom that we love he hateth. And wit ye well, my fair\nbrethren, that this Sir Lamorak will never love us, because we slew his\nfather king Pellinore, for we deemed that he slew our father, king of\nOrkney. And for the despite of Pellinore Sir Lamorak did us a shame to\nour mother, therefore I will be revenged. Sir, said Sir Gawaine\u2019s\nbrethren, let see how ye will or may be revenged, and ye shall find us\nready. Well, said Sir Gawaine, hold you still, and we shall espy our\ntime.\n\n\n CHAP. XXII.\n\n_How king Arthur made king Mark to be accorded with Sir Tristram, and\n how they departed toward Cornwall._\n\nNow pass we our matter, and leave we Sir Gawaine, and speak of king\nArthur that on a day said unto king Mark, Sir, I pray you to give me a\ngift that I shall ask you. Sir, said king Mark, I will give you\nwhatsoever ye desire, and it be in my power. Sir, gramercy, said king\nArthur: this I will ask you, that ye will be good lord unto Sir\nTristram, for he is a man of great honour; and that ye will take him\nwith you into Cornwall, and let him see his friends, and there cherish\nhim for my sake. Sir, said king Mark, I promise you by the faith of my\nbody, and by the faith I owe to God and to you, I shall worship him for\nyour sake in all that I can or may. Sir, said Arthur, and I will\nforgive you all the evil will that ever I owed you, and so be that ye\nswear that upon a book afore me. With a good will, said king Mark. And\nso he there sware upon a book afore him and all his knights, and\ntherewith king Mark and Sir Tristram took either other by the hands\nhard knit together. But for all this king Mark thought falsely, as it\nproved after, for he put Sir Tristram in prison, and cowardly would\nhave slain him. Then soon after king Mark took his leave to ride into\nCornwall, and Sir Tristram made him ready to ride with him, wherefore\nthe most part of the Round Table were wroth and heavy; and in especial\nSir Launcelot, and Sir Lamorak, and Sir Dinadan were wroth out of\nmeasure. For well they wist king Mark would slay or destroy Sir\nTristram. Alas, said Dinadan, that my lord Sir Tristram shall depart.\nAnd Sir Tristram took such sorrow that he was amazed like a fool. Alas,\nsaid Sir Launcelot unto king Arthur, what have ye done, for ye shall\nlose the most man of worship that ever came into your court? It was his\nown desire, said Arthur, and therefore I might not do withal; for I\nhave done all that I can, and made them at accord. Accord, said Sir\nLauncelot, fie upon that accord, for ye shall hear that he shall slay\nSir Tristram, or put him in a prison, for he is the most coward and the\nvillainest king and knight that is now living. And therewith Sir\nLauncelot departed, and came to king Mark, and said to him thus: Sir\nking, wit thou well, the good knight Sir Tristram shall go with thee.\nBeware, I counsel thee, of treason; for and thou mischieve that knight,\nby any manner of falsehood or treason, by the faith I owe to God and to\nthe order of knighthood, I shall slay thee with mine own hands. Sir\nLauncelot, said the king, over much have ye said to me; and I have\nsworn and said over largely afore king Arthur, in hearing of all his\nknights, that I shall not slay nor betray him. It were to me overmuch\nshame to break my promise. Ye say well, said Sir Launcelot, but ye are\ncalled so false and full of treason that no man may believe you.\nForsooth, it is known well wherefore ye came into this country, and for\nnone other cause but for to slay Sir Tristram. So with great dole king\nMark and Sir Tristram rode together; for it was by Sir Tristram\u2019s will\nand his means to go with king Mark, and all was for the intent to see\nLa Beale Isoud; for without the sight of her Sir Tristram might not\nendure.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIII.\n\n_How Sir Percivale was made knight of king Arthur, and how a dumb maid\n spake, and brought him to the Round Table._\n\nNow turn we again unto Sir Lamorak, and speak we of his brethren. Sir\nTor, which was king Pellinore\u2019s first son; and Sir Aglavale was his\nnext son; Sir Lamorak, Dornar, Percivale, these were his sons too. So\nwhen king Mark and Sir Tristram were departed from the court, there was\nmade great dole and sorrow for the departing of Sir Tristram. Then the\nking and his knights made no manner of joys eight days after. And at\nthe eight days\u2019 end, there came to the court a knight, with a young\nsquire with him; and when this knight was unarmed, he went to the king,\nand required him to make the young squire a knight. Of what lineage is\nhe come? said king Arthur. Sir, said the knight, he is the son of king\nPellinore, that did you sometime good service, and he is brother unto\nLamorak de Galis the good knight. Well, said the king, for what cause\ndesire ye that of me, that I should make him knight? Wit you well, my\nlord the king, that this young squire is brother to me, as well as to\nSir Lamorak, and my name is Aglavale. Sir Aglavale, said Arthur, for\nthe love of Sir Lamorak, and for his father\u2019s love, he shall be made\nknight to-morrow. Now tell me, said Arthur, what is his name? Sir, said\nthe knight, his name is Percivale de Galis.\n\nSo on the morn the king made him knight in Camelot. But the king and\nall the knights thought it would be long or that he proved a good\nknight. Then at the dinner when the king was set at the table, and\nevery knight after he was of prowess, the king commanded him to be set\namong mean knights; and so was Sir Percivale set as the king commanded.\nThen was there a maiden in the queen\u2019s court that was come of high\nblood; and she was dumb, and never spake word. Right so she came\nstraight into the hall, and went unto Sir Percivale, and took him by\nthe hand, and said aloud, that the king and all the knights might hear\nit, Arise, Sir Percivale the noble knight and God\u2019s knight, and go with\nme; and so he did. And there she brought him to the right side of the\nsiege-perilous, and said, Fair knight, take here thy siege, for that\nsiege appertaineth to thee, and to none other. Right so she departed\nand asked a priest. And as she was confessed and houselled; then she\ndied. Then the king and all the court made great joy of Sir Percivale.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIV.\n\n_How Sir Lamorak visited king Lot\u2019s wife, and how Sir Gaheris slew her\n which was his own mother._\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Lamorak, that much was there praised. Then, by the\nmean of Sir Gawaine and his brethren, they sent for their mother there\nbesides fast by a castle beside Camelot; and all was to that intent to\nslay Sir Lamorak. The queen of Orkney was there but a while, but Sir\nLamorak wist of her being, and was full fain; and for to make an end of\nthis matter he sent unto her, and there betwixt them was a time\nassigned that Sir Lamorak should come to her. Thereof was ware Sir\nGaheris, and there he rode afore, the same time, and waited upon Sir\nLamorak. And then he saw where he came all armed; and where Sir Lamorak\nalight, he tied his horse to a privy postern, and so he went into a\nparlour and unarmed him; and then he went unto the queen, and she made\nof him passing great joy, and he of her again, for either loved other\npassing sore. So when the knight, Sir Gaheris, saw his time, he came\nunto them, all armed, with his sword naked, and suddenly gat his mother\nby the hair, and strake off her head. When Sir Lamorak saw the blood\ndash upon him all hot, the which he loved passing well, wit you well he\nwas sore abashed and dismayed of that dolorous knight. And therewithal\nSir Lamorak leaped up as a knight dismayed, saying thus: Ah Sir\nGaheris, knight of the Table Round, foul and evil have ye done, and to\nyou great shame. Alas, why have ye slain your mother that bare you;\nwith more right ye should have slain me. The offence hast thou done,\nsaid Gaheris, notwithstanding a man is born to offer his service, but\nyet shouldest thou beware with whom thou meddlest, for thou hast put me\nand my brethren to a shame, and thy father slew our father; and thou to\nlove our mother is too much shame for us to suffer. And as for thy\nfather king Pellinore, my brother Sir Gawaine and I slew him. Ye did\nhim the more wrong, said Sir Lamorak, for my father slew not your\nfather; it was Balan le Savage; and as yet my father\u2019s death is not\nrevenged. Leave those words, said Gaheris, for and thou speak\nfeloniously I will slay thee, but because thou art unarmed I am ashamed\nto slay thee. But wit thou well, in what place I may get thee I shall\nslay thee; and now my mother is quit of thee; and therefore withdraw\nthee and take thine armour, that thou were gone. Sir Lamorak saw there\nwas none other boot, but fast armed him, and took his horse, and rode\nhis way, making great sorrow. But for the shame and dolour he would not\nride to king Arthur\u2019s court, but rode another way. But when it was\nknown that Gaheris had slain his mother, the king was passing wroth,\nand commanded him to go out of his court. Wit ye well, Sir Gawaine was\nwroth that Gaheris had slain his mother, and let Sir Lamorak escape.\nAnd for this matter was the king passing wroth, and so was Sir\nLauncelot, and many other knights. Sir, said Sir Launcelot, here is a\ngreat mischief befallen by felony, and by forecast treason, that your\nsister is thus shamefully slain. And I dare say that it was wrought by\ntreason, and I dare say ye shall lose that good knight Sir Lamorak, the\nwhich is great pity. I wote well and am sure, and Sir Tristram wist it\nhe would never more come within your court, the which should grieve you\nmuch more, and all your knights. God defend, said the noble king\nArthur, that I should lose Sir Lamorak or Sir Tristram, for then twain\nof my chief knights of the Table Round were gone. Sir, said Sir\nLauncelot, I am sure that ye shall lose Sir Lamorak, for Sir Gawaine\nand his brethren will slay him by one mean or other, for they among\nthem have concluded and sworn to slay him and ever they may see their\ntime. That shall I let, said Arthur.\n\n\n CHAP. XXV.\n\n_How Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred met with a knight fleeing, and how\n they both were overthrown, and of Sir Dinadan._\n\nNow leave we of Sir Lamorak, and speak of Sir Gawaine\u2019s brethren, and\nspecially of Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred. As they rode on their\nadventures, they met with a knight flying sore wounded, and they asked\nhim what tidings? Fair knights, said he, here cometh a knight after me\nthat will slay me. With that came Sir Dinadan, riding to them by\nadventure, but he would promise them no help. But Sir Agravaine and Sir\nMordred promised him to rescue him. Therewithal came that knight\nstraight unto them. And anon he proffered to just. That saw Sir\nMordred, and rode to him; but he strake Sir Mordred over his horse\ntail. That saw Sir Agravaine, and straight he rode toward that knight.\nAnd right so as he served Mordred, so he served Agravaine, and said to\nthem, Sirs, wit ye well both, that I am Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9, that hath\ndone this to you. And yet he rode over Agravaine five or six times.\nWhen Dinadan saw this, he must needs just with him for shame. And so\nDinadan and he encountered together, that with pure strength Sir\nDinadan smote him over his horse tail. Then he took his horse and fled.\nFor he was on foot one of the valiantest knights in Arthur\u2019s days, and\na great destroyer of all good knights. Then rode Sir Dinadan unto Sir\nMordred and unto Sir Agravaine. Sir knight, said they all, well have ye\ndone, and well have ye revenged us; wherefore we pray you tell us your\nname. Fair sirs, ye ought to know my name, the which is called Sir\nDinadan. When they understood that it was Dinadan, they were more wroth\nthan they were before, for they hated him out of measure, because of\nSir Lamorak. For Dinadan had such a custom that he loved all good\nknights that were valiant, and he hated all those that were destroyers\nof good knights. And there were none that hated Dinadan but those that\never were called murderers. Then spake the hurt knight that Breuse\nSance Pit\u00e9 had chased, his name was Dalan, and said, If thou be\nDinadan, thou slewest my father. It may well be so, said Dinadan, but\nthen it was in my defence, and at his request. By my head, said Dalan,\nthou shalt die therefore. And therewith he dressed his spear and his\nshield. And to make the shorter tale, Sir Dinadan smote him down off\nhis horse, that his neck was nigh broken. And in the same wise he smote\nSir Mordred and Sir Agravaine. And after, in the quest of the\nSancgreal, cowardly and feloniously they slew Dinadan, the which was\ngreat damage, for he was a great jester and a passing good knight. And\nso Sir Dinadan rode to a castle that hight Beale-Valet, and there he\nfound Sir Palamides, that was not yet whole of the wound that Sir\nLamorak gave him. And there Dinadan told Palamides all the tidings that\nhe heard and saw of Sir Tristram, and how he was gone with king Mark,\nand with him he hath all his will and desire. Therewith Sir Palamides\nwaxed wroth, for he loved La Beale Isoud, and then he wist well that\nSir Tristram should see her.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVI.\n\n_How king Arthur, the queen, and Launcelot received letters out of\n Cornwall, and of the answer again._\n\nNow leave we Sir Palamides and Sir Dinadan, in the Castle of\nBeale-Valet, and turn we again unto king Arthur. There came a knight\nout of Cornwall, his name was Fergus, a fellow of the Round Table, and\nthere he told the king and Sir Launcelot good tidings of Sir Tristram,\nand there were brought goodly letters, and how he left him in the\nCastle of Tintagil. Then came the damsel that brought goodly letters\nunto king Arthur and unto Sir Launcelot; and there she had passing good\ncheer of the king and of the queen Guenever, and of Sir Launcelot. Then\nthey wrote goodly letters again. But Sir Launcelot had ever Sir\nTristram beware of king Mark; for ever he called him in his letters\nking Fox, as who saith, He fareth all with wiles and treason: whereof\nSir Tristram in his heart thanked Sir Launcelot. Then the damsel went\nunto La Beale Isoud, and bare her letter from the king and from Sir\nLauncelot, whereof she was in passing great joy. Fair damsel, said La\nBeale Isoud, how fareth my lord Arthur, and the queen Guenever, and the\nnoble knight, Sir Launcelot du Lake? She answered, and to make short\ntale, Much the better that ye and Sir Tristram be in joy. Truly, said\nLa Beale Isoud, Sir Tristram suffereth great pain for me, and I for\nhim. So the damsel departed, and brought letters to king Mark. And when\nhe had read them, and understood them, he was wroth with Sir Tristram,\nfor he deemed that he had sent the damsel unto king Arthur; for Arthur\nand Launcelot in a manner threatened king Mark. And as king Mark read\nthese letters he deemed treason by Sir Tristram. Damsel, said king\nMark, will ye ride again, and bear letters from me unto king Arthur?\nSir, she said, I will be at your commandment to ride when ye will. Ye\nsay well, said the king; come again, said the king, to-morn, and fetch\nyour letters. Then she departed, and told them how she should ride\nagain with letters unto Arthur. Then, we pray you, said La Beale Isoud\nand Sir Tristram, that when ye have received your letters, that ye\nwould come by us, that we may see the privity of your letters. All that\nI may do, madam, ye wot well I must do for Sir Tristram, for I have\nbeen long his own maiden. So on the morn the damsel went to king Mark,\nto have had his letters, and to depart. I am not advised, said king\nMark, at this time to send my letters. Then privily and secretly he\nsent letters unto king Arthur, and unto queen Guenever, and unto Sir\nLauncelot. So the varlet departed, and found the king and queen in\nWales, at Carlion. And as the king and the queen were at mass the\nvarlet came with the letters; and when mass was done the king and the\nqueen opened the letters privily by themselves. And the beginning of\nthe king\u2019s letters spake wonderly short unto king Arthur, and bade him\nintermeddle with himself, and with his wife, and of his knights, for he\nwas able enough to rule and keep his wife.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot was wroth with the letter that he received from king\n Mark, and of Dinadan which made a lay of king Mark._\n\nWhen king Arthur understood the letter he mused of many things, and\nthought on his sister\u2019s words, queen Morgan le Fay, that she had said\nbetwixt queen Guenever and Sir Launcelot. And in this thought he\nstudied a great while. Then he bethought him again how his sister was\nhis own enemy, and that she hated the queen and Sir Launcelot, and so\nhe put all that out of his thought. Then king Arthur read the letter\nagain, and the latter clause said that king Mark took Sir Tristram for\nhis mortal enemy, wherefore he put Arthur out of doubt he would be\nrevenged of Sir Tristram. Then was king Arthur wroth with king Mark.\nAnd when queen Guenever read her letter, and understood it, she was\nwroth out of measure, for the letter spake shame by her, and by Sir\nLauncelot. And so privily she sent the letter unto Sir Launcelot. And\nwhen he wist the intent of the letter, he was so wroth that he laid him\ndown on his bed to sleep, whereof Sir Dinadan was ware, for it was his\nmanner to be privy with all good knights. And as Sir Launcelot slept he\nstole the letter out of his hand, and read it word by word; and then he\nmade great sorrow for anger. And so Sir Launcelot awaked, and went to a\nwindow, and read the letter again, the which made him angry. Sir, said\nDinadan, wherefore be ye angry? discover your heart to me. For sooth ye\nwot well I owe you good will, howbeit I am a poor knight, and a\nservitor unto you and to all good knights. For though I be not of\nworship myself, yet I love all those that be of worship. It is truth,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, ye are a trusty knight, and for great trust I will\nshew you my counsel. And when Dinadan understood all, he said, This is\nmy counsel: set you right nought by these threats, for king Mark is so\nvillainous that by fair speech shall never man get of him. But ye shall\nsee what I shall do. I will make a lay for him, and when it is made I\nshall make an harper to sing it afore him. So anon he went and made it,\nand taught it an harper that hight Eliot, and when he knew it, he\ntaught it to many harpers. And so by the will of Sir Launcelot, and of\nArthur, the harpers went straight into Wales and into Cornwall, to sing\nthe lay that Sir Dinadan made by king Mark, which was the worst lay\nthat ever harper sang with harp or with any other instruments.\n\n\n CHAP. XXVIII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram was hurt, and of a war made to king Mark; and of Sir\n Tristram, how he promised to rescue him._\n\nNow turn we again unto Sir Tristram and to king Mark. As Sir Tristram\nwas at justs and at tournament it fortuned he was sore hurt, both with\na spear and with a sword. But yet he wan always the degree. And for to\nrepose him he went to a good knight that dwelled in Cornwall in a\ncastle, whose name was Sir Dinas the seneschal. Then by misfortune\nthere came out of Sessoin a great number of men of arms, and an hideous\nhost; and they entered nigh the castle of Tintagil; and their captain\u2019s\nname was Elias, a good man of arms. When king Mark understood his\nenemies were entered into his land, he made great dole and sorrow, for\nin no wise by his will king Mark would not send for Sir Tristram, for\nhe hated him deadly. So when his council was come, they devised and\ncast many perils of the strength of their enemies; and then they\nconcluded all at once, and said thus unto king Mark, Sir, wit ye well\nye must send for Sir Tristram the good knight, or else they will never\nbe overcome. For by Sir Tristram they must be fought withal, or else we\nrow against the stream. Well, said king Mark, I will do by your\ncounsel. But yet he was full loth thereto, but need constrained him to\nsend for him. Then was he sent for in all haste that might be, that he\nshould come to king Mark. When Sir Tristram understood that the king\nhad sent for him, he mounted upon a soft ambler and rode to king Mark.\nAnd when he was come, the king said thus: Fair nephew Sir Tristram,\nthis is all: here be come our enemies of Sessoin, that are here nigh\nhand; and without tarrying they must be met with shortly, or else they\nwill destroy this country. Sir, said Sir Tristram, wit ye well, all my\npower is at your commandment; and wit ye well Sir, these eight days may\nI bear none arms, for my wounds be not yet whole. And by that day I\nshall do what I may. Ye say well, said king Mark: then go ye again, and\nrepose you, and make you fresh; and I shall go and meet the Sessoins\nwith all my power. So the king departed unto Tintagil, and Sir Tristram\nwent to repose him. And the king made a great host, and departed them\nin three. The first part led Sir Dinas the seneschal, and Sir Andred\nled the second part, and Sir Arguis led the third part, and he was of\nthe blood of king Mark. And the Sessoins had three great battles, and\nmany good men of arms. And so king Mark, by the advice of his knights,\nissued out of the castle of Tintagil upon his enemies. And Dinas the\ngood knight rode out afore, and slew two knights with his own hands;\nand then began the battles. And there was marvellous breaking of\nspears, and smiting of swords, and slew down many good knights, and\never was Sir Dinas the seneschal the best of king Mark\u2019s part. And thus\nthe battle endured long with great mortality. But at the last king Mark\nand Sir Dinas, were they never so loth, they withdrew them to the\ncastle of Tintagil, with great slaughter of people, and the Sessoins\nfollowed on fast, that ten of them were put within the gates, and four\nslain with the portcullis. Then king Mark sent for Sir Tristram by a\nvarlet, that told him all the mortality. Then he sent the varlet again,\nand bade him, Tell king Mark that I will come as soon as I am whole,\nfor erst I may do him no good. Then king Mark had his answer. Therewith\ncame Elias, and bade the king yield up the castle, for ye may not hold\nit no while. Sir Elias, said the king, so will I yield up the castle,\nif I be not soon rescued. Anon king Mark sent again for rescue to Sir\nTristram. By then Sir Tristram was whole, and he had gotten him ten\ngood knights of Arthur\u2019s, and with them he rode unto Tintagil. And when\nhe saw the great host of Sessoins he marvelled wonder greatly. And then\nSir Tristram rode by the woods and by the ditches as secretly as he\nmight, till he came nigh the gates. And there dressed a knight to him,\nwhen he saw that Sir Tristram would enter; and Sir Tristram smote him\ndown dead. And so he served three more. And every each of these ten\nknights slew a man of arms. So Sir Tristram entered into the castle of\nTintagil. And when king Mark wist that Sir Tristram was come, he was\nglad of his coming, and so was all the fellowship, and of him they made\ngreat joy.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIX.\n\n_How Sir Tristram overcame the battle, and how Elias desired a man to\n fight body for body._\n\nSo on the morn, Elias the captain came and bade king Mark come out and\ndo battle. For now the good knight Sir Tristram is entered, it will be\na shame to thee, said Elias, for to keep thy walls. When king Mark\nunderstood this, he was wroth, and said no word, but went unto Sir\nTristram and asked him his counsel. Sir, said Sir Tristram, will ye\nthat I give him his answer? I will well, said king Mark. Then Sir\nTristram said thus to the messager, Bear thy lord word from the king\nand me, that we will do battle with him to-morn in the plain field.\nWhat is your name? said the messager. Wit thou well my name is Sir\nTristram de Liones. Therewithal the messager departed, and told his\nlord Elias all that he had heard. Sir, said Sir Tristram unto king\nMark, I pray you give me leave to have the rule of the battle. I pray\nyou take the rule, said king Mark. Then Sir Tristram let devise the\nbattle in what manner that it should be. He let depart his host in six\nparts, and ordained Sir Dinas the seneschal to have the fore ward, and\nother knights to rule the remnant: and the same night Sir Tristram\nburnt all the Sessoins\u2019 ships unto the cold water. Anon as Elias wist\nthat, he said, It was of Sir Tristram\u2019s doing, for he casteth that we\nshall never escape, mother\u2019s son of us; therefore, fair fellows, fight\nfreely to-morrow, and miscomfort you nought for any knight, though he\nbe the best knight in the world: he may not have ado with us all. Then\nthey ordained their battles in four parts, wonderly well apparelled and\ngarnished with men of arms. Thus they within issued, and they without\nset freely upon them; and there Sir Dinas did great deeds of arms. Not\nfor then Sir Dinas and his fellowship were put to the worse. With that\ncame Sir Tristram, and slew two knights with one spear. Then he slew on\nthe right hand and on the left hand, that men marvelled that ever he\nmight do such deeds of arms. And then he might see sometime the battle\nwas driven a bow draught from the castle, and sometime it was at the\ngates of the castle. Then came Elias the captain rashing here and\nthere, and hit king Mark so sore upon the helm that he made him to\navoid the saddle; and then Sir Dinas gat king Mark again to horseback.\nTherewithal came in Sir Tristram like a lion, and there he met with\nElias, and he smote him so sore upon the helm that he avoided his\nsaddle. And thus they fought till it was night, and for great\nslaughter, and for wounded people, evereach party drew to their rest.\nAnd when king Mark was come within the castle of Tintagil, he lacked of\nhis knights an hundred; and they without lacked two hundred: and they\nsearched the wounded men on both parties. And then they went to\ncouncil; and wit you well, either party were loth to fight more, so\nthat either might escape with their worship.\n\nWhen Elias the captain understood the death of his men, he made great\ndole; and when he wist that they were loth to go to battle again he was\nwroth out of measure. Then Elias sent word unto king Mark in great\ndespite, whether he would find a knight that would fight for him, body\nfor body, and if that he might slay king Mark\u2019s knight, he to have the\ntruage of Cornwall yearly: and if that his knight slay mine, I fully\nrelease my claim for ever. Then the messager departed unto king Mark,\nand told him how that his lord Elias had sent him word to find a knight\nto do battle with him, body for body. When king Mark understood the\nmessager he bad him abide, and he should have his answer. Then called\nhe all the baronage together, to wit what was the best counsel. They\nsaid, all at once, To fight in a field we have no lust, for had not\nbeen Sir Tristram\u2019s prowess, it had been likely that we never should\nhave escaped. And therefore, sir, as we deem, it were well done to find\na knight that would do battle with him, for he knightly proffereth.\n\n\n CHAP. XXX.\n\n_How Sir Elias and Sir Tristram fought together for the truage, and how\n Sir Tristram slew Elias in the field._\n\nNot for then, when all this was said, they could find no knight that\nwould do battle with him. Sir king, said they all, here is no knight\nthat dare fight with Elias. Alas, said king Mark, then am I utterly\nshamed, and utterly destroyed, unless that my nephew Sir Tristram will\ntake the battle upon him. Wit ye well, they said all, he had yesterday\nover much on hand, and he is weary for travail, and sore wounded. Where\nis he? said king Mark. Sir, said they, he is in his bed to repose him.\nAlas, said king Mark, but I have the succour of my nephew Sir Tristram\nI am utterly destroyed for ever. Therewith one went to Sir Tristram\nwhere he lay, and told him what king Mark had said. And therewith Sir\nTristram arose lightly, and put on him a long gown, and came afore the\nking and all the lords. And when he saw them all so dismayed, he asked\nthe king and the lords what tidings were with them. Never worse, said\nthe king. And therewith he told him all how he had word of Elias to\nfind a knight to fight for the truage of Cornwall, and none can I find;\nand as for you, said the king and all the lords, we may ask no more of\nyou for shame, for through your hardiness yesterday ye saved all our\nlives. Sir, said Sir Tristram, now I understand ye would have my\nsuccour, reason would that I should do all that lieth in my power to\ndo, saving my worship and my life, howbeit I am sore bruised and hurt.\nAnd sithen Sir Elias proffereth so largely, I shall fight with him, or\nelse I will be slain in the field, or else I will deliver Cornwall from\nthe old truage. And therefore lightly call his messager, and he shall\nbe answered: for as yet my wounds be green, and they will be sorer a\nseven night after than they be now, and therefore he shall have his\nanswer, that I will do battle to-morn with him. Then was the messager\ndeparted brought before king Mark. Hark my fellow, said Sir Tristram,\ngo fast unto thy lord, and bid him make true assurance on his part, for\nthe truage, as the king here shall make on his part; and then tell thy\nlord Sir Elias, that I, Sir Tristram, king Arthur\u2019s knight, and knight\nof the Table Round, will as to-morn meet with thy lord on horseback, to\ndo battle as long as my horse may endure, and after that to do battle\nwith him on foot to the utterance. The messager beheld Sir Tristram\nfrom the top to the toe; and therewithal he departed, and came to his\nlord, and told him how he was answered of Sir Tristram. And therewithal\nwas made hostage on both parties, and made it as sure as it might be,\nthat whether party had the victory, so to end. And then were both hosts\nassembled, on both parts of the field without the castle of Tintagil,\nand there was none but Sir Tristram and Sir Elias armed. So when the\nappointment was made, they departed in sunder, and they came together\nwith all the might that their horses might run. And either knight smote\nother so hard that both horses and knights went to the earth. Not for\nthen they both lightly arose, and dressed their shields on their\nshoulders, with naked swords in their hands, and they dashed together\nthat it seemed a flaming fire about them. Thus they traced and\ntraversed, and hewed on helms and hauberks, and cut away many cantels\nof their shields, and either wounded other passing sore, so that the\nhot blood fell freshly upon the earth. And by then they had fought the\nmountenance of an hour Sir Tristram waxed faint and for-bled, and gave\nsore aback. That saw Sir Elias, and followed fiercely upon him, and\nwounded him in many places. And ever Sir Tristram traced and traversed,\nand went froward him here and there, and covered him with his shield as\nhe might all weakly, that all men said he was overcome. For Sir Elias\nhad given him twenty strokes against one. Then was there laughing of\nthe Sessoins\u2019 party, and great dole on king Mark\u2019s party. Alas, said\nthe king, we are ashamed and destroyed all for ever. For, as the book\nsaith, Sir Tristram was never so matched, but if it were Sir Launcelot.\nThus as they stood and beheld both parties, that one party laughing,\nand the other part weeping, Sir Tristram remembered him of his lady, La\nBeale Isoud, that looked upon him, and how he was likely never to come\nin her presence. Then he pulled up his shield, that erst hung full low;\nand then he dressed up his shield unto Elias, and gave him many sad\nstrokes, twenty against one, and all to-brake his shield and his\nhauberk, that the hot blood ran down to the earth. Then began king Mark\nto laugh and all Cornish men, and that other party to weep. And ever\nSir Tristram said to Sir Elias, Yield thee! Then when Sir Tristram saw\nhim so staggering on the ground, he said, Sir Elias, I am right sorry\nfor thee, for thou art a passing good knight as ever I met withal,\nexcept Sir Launcelot. Therewithal Sir Elias fell to the earth, and\nthere died. What shall I do? said Sir Tristram unto king Mark, for this\nbattle is at an end. Then they of Elias\u2019s party departed; and king Mark\ntook of them many prisoners, to redress the harms and the scathes that\nhe had of them, and the remnant he sent into their country to ransom\nout their fellows. Then was Sir Tristram searched and well healed. Yet\nfor all this king Mark would fain have slain Sir Tristram. But for all\nthat ever Sir Tristram saw or heard by king Mark, yet would he never\nbeware of his treason, but ever he would be there as La Beale Isoud was.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXI.\n\n_How at a great feast that king Mark made, an harper came and sang the\n lay that Dinadan had made._\n\nNow will we pass of this matter, and speak we of the harper that Sir\nLauncelot and Sir Dinadan had sent into Cornwall. And at the great\nfeast that king Mark made for joy that the Sessoins were put out of his\ncountry, then came Eliot the harper, with the lay that Dinadan had\nmade, and secretly brought it unto Sir Tristram, and told him the lay\nthat Dinadan had made by king Mark. And when Sir Tristram heard it, he\nsaid: That Dinadan can make wonderly well and ill, there as it shall\nbe. Sir, said Eliot, dare I sing this song afore king Mark? Yea, on my\nperil, said Sir Tristram, for I shall be thy warrant. Then at the meat\ncame in Eliot the harper, and because he was a curious harper men heard\nhim sing the same lay that Dinadan had made, the which spake the most\nvillainy by king Mark of his treason that ever man heard. When the\nharper had sung his song to the end, king Mark was wonderly wroth, and\nsaid, Thou harper, how durst thou be so bold on thy head to sing this\nsong before me? Sir, said Eliot, wit you well I am a minstrel, and I\nmust do as I am commanded of these lords that I bear the arms of. And,\nsir, wit you well that Sir Dinadan, a knight of the Table Round, made\nthis song, and made me to sing it afore you. Thou sayest well, said\nking Mark, and because thou art a minstrel thou shalt go quit, but I\ncharge thee hie thee fast out of my sight. So the harper departed, and\nwent to Sir Tristram, and told him how he had sped. Then Sir Tristram\nlet make letters, as goodly as he could, to Launcelot, and to Sir\nDinadan. And so he let conduct the harper out of the country. But to\nsay that king Mark was wonderly wroth, he was; for he deemed that the\nlay that was sung afore him was made by Sir Tristram\u2019s counsel,\nwherefore he thought to slay him and all his well-willers in that\ncountry.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXII.\n\n_How king Mark slew by treason his brother Boudwin, for good service\n that he had done to him._\n\nNow turn we to another matter, that fell between king Mark and his\nbrother that was called the good prince Sir Boudwin, that all the\npeople of the country loved passing well. So it befell upon a time,\nthat the miscreants Saracens landed in the country of Cornwall, soon\nafter these Sessoins were gone. And then the good prince Sir Boudwin,\nat the landing, he raised the country privily and hastily. And or it\nwere day he let put wild-fire in three of his own ships, and suddenly\nhe pulled up the sail, and with the wind he made those ships to be\ndriven among the navy of the Saracens; and to make short tale, those\nthree ships set on fire all the ships, that none were saved. And at the\npoint of the day the good prince Boudwin, with all his fellowship, set\non the miscreants, with shouts and cries, and slew to the number of\nforty thousand, and left none alive. When king Mark wist this, he was\nwonderly wroth that his brother should win such worship. And because\nthis prince was better beloved than he in all that country, and that\nalso Sir Boudwin loved well Sir Tristram, therefore he thought to slay\nhim. And thus hastily as a man out of his wit, he sent for prince\nBoudwin, and Anglides his wife, and bad them bring their young son with\nthem, that he might see him. All this he did to the intent to slay the\nchild as well as his father, for he was the falsest traitor that ever\nwas born. Alas, for his goodness and for his good deeds this gentle\nprince Boudwin was slain. So when he came with his wife Anglides, the\nking made them fair semblant till they had dined. And when they had\ndined, king Mark sent for his brother, and said thus: Brother, how sped\nyou when the miscreants arrived by you? Me seemeth it had been your\npart to have sent me word, that I might have been at that journey, for\nit had been reason that I had had the honour, and not you. Sir, said\nthe prince Boudwin, it was so that and I had tarried till that I had\nsent for you, those miscreants had destroyed my country. Thou liest,\nfalse traitor, said king Mark, for thou art ever about for to win\nworship from me, and put me to dishonour, and thou cherishest that I\nhate. And therewith he struck him to the heart with a dagger, that he\nnever after spake word. Then the lady Anglides made great dole and\nswooned, for she saw her lord slain afore her face. Then was there no\nmore to do, but prince Boudwin was despoiled and brought to burial. But\nAnglides privily got her husband\u2019s doublet and his shirt, and that she\nkept secretly. Then was there much sorrow and crying, and great dole\nmade Sir Tristram, Sir Dinas, Sir Fergus, and so did all the knights\nthat were there, for that prince was passingly well beloved. So La\nBeale Isoud sent unto Anglides, the prince Boudwin\u2019s wife, and bad her\navoid lightly, or else her young son Alisander le Orphelin should be\nslain. When she heard this, she took her horse and her child, and rode\nher way with such poor men as durst ride with her.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXIII.\n\n_How Anglides, Boudwin\u2019s wife, escaped with her young son, Alisander le\n Orphelin, and came to the castle of Arundel._\n\nNotwithstanding, when king Mark had done this deed, yet he thought to\ndo more vengeance; and with his sword in his hand he sought from\nchamber to chamber, to find Anglides and her young son. And when she\nwas missed, he called a good knight that hight Sir Sadok, and charged\nhim, by pain of death, to fetch Anglides again, and her young son. So\nSir Sadok departed, and rode after Anglides. And within ten mile he\novertook her, and bade her turn again, and ride with him to king Mark.\nAlas, fair knight, she said, what shall ye win by my son\u2019s death, or by\nmine? I have had over much harm, and too great a loss. Madam, said\nSadok, of your loss is dole and pity; but, madam, said Sadok, would ye\ndepart out of this country with your son, and keep him till he be of\nage, that he may revenge his father\u2019s death, then would I suffer you to\ndepart from me, so ye promise me for to revenge the death of prince\nBoudwin. Ah, gentle knight, Jesu thank thee, and if ever my son\nAlisander le Orphelin live to be a knight, he shall have his father\u2019s\ndoublet and his shirt with the bloody marks; and I shall give him such\na charge that he shall remember it while he liveth. And therewithal\nSadok departed from her, and either betook other to God. And when Sadok\ncame to king Mark, he told him faithfully that he had drowned young\nAlisander, her son; and thereof king Mark was full glad.\n\nNow turn we unto Anglides, that rode both night and day by adventure\nout of Cornwall, and little and in few places she rested. But ever she\ndrew southward to the sea side, till by fortune she came to a castle\nthat is called Magouns, and now it is called Arundel in Southsex. And\nthe constable of the castle welcomed her, and said she was welcome to\nher own castle; and there was Anglides worshipfully received, for the\nconstable\u2019s wife was nigh her cousin. And the constable\u2019s name was\nBellangere, and that same constable told Anglides that the same castle\nwas hers by right inheritance. Thus Anglides endured years and winters,\ntill Alisander was big and strong. There was none so wight in all that\ncountry, neither there was none that might do no manner of mastery\nafore him.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXIV.\n\n_How Anglides gave the bloody doublet to Alisander her son the same day\n that he was made knight, and the charge withal._\n\nThen upon a day Bellangere the constable came to Anglides and said,\nMadam, it were time that my lord Alisander were made knight, for he is\na passing strong young man. Sir, said she, I would he were made knight;\nbut then must I give him the most charge that ever sinful mother gave\nto her child. Do as ye list, said Bellangere, and I shall give him\nwarning that he shall be made knight. Now it will be well done that he\nmay be made knight at our Ladyday in Lent. Be it so, said Anglides, and\nI pray you make ready therefore. So came the constable to Alisander,\nand told him that he should at our Ladyday in Lent be made knight. I\nthank God, said Alisander, these are the best tidings that ever came to\nme. Then the constable ordained twenty of the greatest gentlemen\u2019s\nsons, and the best born men of the country, that should be made knights\nthat same day that Alisander was made knight. So on the same day that\nAlisander and his twenty fellows were made knights, at the offering of\nthe mass there came Anglides unto her son, and said thus: O fair sweet\nson, I charge thee upon my blessing, and of the high order of chivalry\nthat thou takest here this day, that thou understand what I shall say\nand charge thee withal. Therewithal she pulled out a bloody doublet and\na bloody shirt, that were be-bled with old blood. When Alisander saw\nthis, he start back and waxed pale, and said, Fair mother, what may\nthis mean? I shall tell thee, fair son; this was thine own father\u2019s\ndoublet and shirt that he ware upon him that same day that he was\nslain. And there she told him why and wherefore: and how for his\ngoodness king Mark slew him with his dagger afore mine own eyes. And\ntherefore this shall be your charge, that I shall give thee. Now I\nrequire thee and charge thee upon my blessing, and upon the high order\nof knighthood, that thou be revenged upon king Mark for the death of\nthy father. And therewithal she swooned. Then Alisander leaped to his\nmother, and took her up in his arms, and said, Fair mother, ye have\ngiven me a great charge, and here I promise you I shall be avenged upon\nking Mark when that I may, and that I promise to God and to you. So\nthis feast was ended. And the constable, by the advice of Anglides, let\npurvey that Sir Alisander was well horsed and harnessed. Then he justed\nwith his twenty fellows that were made knights with him. But, for to\nmake a short tale, he overthrew all those twenty, that none might\nwithstand him a buffet.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXV.\n\n_How it was told to king Mark of Sir Alisander, and how he would have\n slain Sir Sadok for saving of his life._\n\nThen one of those knights departed unto king Mark, and told him all how\nAlisander was made knight, and all the charge that his mother gave him,\nas ye have heard afore time. Alas, false treason, said king Mark, I\nwend that young traitor had been dead. Alas, whom may I trust? And\ntherewithal king Mark took a sword in his hand, and sought Sir Sadok\nfrom chamber to chamber to slay him. When Sir Sadok saw king Mark come\nwith his sword in his hand, he said thus: Beware, king Mark, and come\nnot nigh me, for wit thou well that I saved Alisander his life, of\nwhich I never repent me, for thou falsely and cowardly slewest his\nfather Boudwin traitorly for his good deeds. Wherefore I pray almighty\nJesu send Alisander might and strength to be revenged upon thee. And\nnow beware king Mark of young Alisander, for he is made a knight. Alas,\nsaid king Mark, that ever I should hear a traitor say so afore me. And\ntherewith four knights of king Mark drew their swords to slay Sir\nSadok. But anon Sir Sadok slew them all in king Mark\u2019s presence. And\nthen Sir Sadok passed forth into his chamber, and took his horse and\nhis harness, and rode on his way a good pace. For there was neither Sir\nTristram, neither Sir Dinas, nor Sir Fergus, that would Sir Sadok any\nevil will. Then was king Mark wroth, and thought to destroy Sir\nAlisander, and Sir Sadok that had saved him, for king Mark dread and\nhated Sir Alisander most of any man living. When Sir Tristram\nunderstood that Alisander was made knight, anon forthwithal he sent him\na letter, praying him and charging him that he would draw him to the\ncourt of king Arthur, and that he put him in the rule and in the hands\nof Sir Launcelot. So this letter was sent to Alisander from his cousin\nSir Tristram. And at that time he thought to do after his commandment.\nThen king Mark called a knight that brought him the tidings from\nAlisander, and bade him abide still in that country. Sir, said that\nknight, so must I do, for in mine own country I dare not come. No\nforce, said king Mark. I shall give thee here double as much lands as\nthou haddest of thine own. But within short space Sir Sadok met with\nthat false knight and slew him. Then was king Mark wood wroth out of\nmeasure. Then he sent unto queen Morgan le Fay and to the queen of\nNorthgalis, praying them in his letters that they two sorceresses would\nset all the country in fire, with ladies that were enchantresses, and\nby such that were dangerous knights, as Malgrin, and Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9;\nthat by no means Alisander le Orphelin should escape, but either he\nshould be taken or slain. This ordinance made king Mark for to destroy\nAlisander.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXVI.\n\n_How Sir Alisander wan the prize at a tournament, and of Morgan le Fay.\n And how he fought with Sir Malgrin and slew him._\n\nNow turn we again unto Sir Alisander, that at his departing from his\nmother took with him his father\u2019s bloody shirt. So that he bare with\nhim always till his death day, in tokening to think on his father\u2019s\ndeath. So was Alisander purposed to ride to London by the counsel of\nSir Tristram to Sir Launcelot. And by fortune he went by the sea-side,\nand rode wrong. And there he won at a tournament the gree, that king\nCarados made. And there he smote down king Carados, and twenty of his\nknights, and also Sir Safere a good knight, that was Sir Palamides\u2019\nbrother, the good knight. All this saw a damsel, and saw the best\nknight just that ever she saw. And ever as he smote down knights he\nmade them to swear to wear no harness in a twelvemonth and a day. This\nis well said, said Morgan le Fay, this is the knight that I would fain\nsee. And so she took her palfrey and rode a great while, and then she\nrested her in her pavilion. So there came four knights: two were armed,\nand two were unarmed, and they told Morgan le Fay their names. The\nfirst was Elias de Gomeret, the second was Car de Gomeret; those were\narmed: that other twain were of Camiliard, cousins unto queen Guenever,\nand that one hight Sir Guy, and that other hight Garaunt; those were\nunarmed. There these four knights told Morgan le Fay how a young knight\nhad smitten them down before a castle. For the maiden of that castle\nsaid that he was but late made knight and young. But as we suppose, but\nif it were Sir Tristram, or Sir Launcelot, or Sir Lamorak the good\nknight, there is none that might sit him a buffet with a spear. Well,\nsaid Morgan le Fay, I shall meet that knight or it be long time, and he\ndwell in that country.\n\nSo turn we to the damsel of the castle, that when Alisander le Orphelin\nhad forjusted the four knights, she called him to her, and said thus:\nSir knight, wilt thou for my sake just and fight with a knight of this\ncountry, that is and hath been long time an evil neighbour to me, his\nname is Malgrin, and he will not suffer me to be married in no manner\nwise for all that I can do, or any knight for my sake. Damsel, said\nAlisander, and he come while I am here I will fight with him, and my\npoor body for your sake I will jeopard. And therewithal she sent for\nhim, for he was at her commandment. And when either had a sight of\nother they made them ready for to just, and they came together eagerly,\nand Malgrin bruised his spear upon Alisander, and Alisander smote him\nagain so hard that he bare him quite from his saddle to the earth. But\nthis Malgrin arose lightly and dressed his shield and drew his sword,\nand bad him alight, saying, Though thou have the better of me on\nhorseback, shalt thou find that I shall endure like a knight on foot.\nIt is well said, said Alisander. And so lightly he voided his horse,\nand betook him to his varlet. And then they rashed together like two\nboars, and laid on their helms and shields long time by the space of\nthree hours, that never man could say which was the better knight. And\nin the meanwhile came Morgan le Fay to the damsel of the castle, and\nthey beheld the battle. But this Malgrin was an old roted knight, and\nhe was called one of the dangerous knights of the world to do battle on\nfoot: but on horseback there were many better. And ever this Malgrin\nawaited to slay Alisander, and so wounded him wonderly sore, that it\nwas marvel that ever he might stand, for he had bled so much blood: for\nAlisander fought wildly and not wittily. And that other was a felonious\nknight, and awaited him, and smote him sore. And sometime they rashed\ntogether with their shields like two boars or rams, and fell groveling\nboth to the earth. Now knight, said Malgrin, hold thy hand awhile, and\ntell me what thou art. I will not, said Alisander, but if me list. But\ntell me thy name, and why thou keepest this country, or else thou shalt\ndie of my hands. Wit thou well, said Malgrin, that for this maiden\u2019s\nlove of this castle I have slain ten good knights by mishap; and by\noutrage and pride of myself I have slain ten other knights. Truly, said\nAlisander, this is the foulest confession that ever I heard knight\nmake, nor never heard I speak of other men of such a shameful\nconfession; wherefore it were great pity and great shame to me that I\nshould let thee live any longer; therefore keep thee as well as ever\nthou mayest, for as I am true knight, either thou shalt slay me or else\nI shall slay thee, I promise thee faithfully. Then they lashed together\nfiercely. And at the last Alisander smote Malgrin to the earth, and\nthen he raced off his helm, and smote off his head lightly. And when he\nhad done and ended this battle, anon he called to him his varlet, the\nwhich brought him his horse. And then he weening to be strong enough\nwould have mounted. And so she laid Sir Alisander in a horse-litter,\nand led him into the castle, for he had no foot nor might to stand upon\nthe earth. For he had sixteen great wounds, and in especial one of them\nwas like to be his death.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXVII.\n\n_How queen Morgan le Fay had Alisander in her castle, and how she\n healed his wounds._\n\nThen queen Morgan le Fay searched his wounds, and gave such an ointment\nunto him that he should have died. And on the morn when she came to\nhim, he complained him sore; and then she put other ointments upon him,\nand then he was out of his pain. Then came the damsel of the castle,\nand said unto Morgan le Fay, I pray you help me that this knight might\nwed me, for he hath won me with his hands. Ye shall see, said Morgan le\nFay, what I shall say. Then Morgan le Fay went to Sir Alisander and bad\nin any wise that he should refuse this lady\u2014if she desire to wed you,\nfor she is not for you. So the damsel came and desired of him marriage.\nDamsel, said Orphelin, I thank you, but as yet I cast me not to marry\nin this country. Sir, said she, sithen ye will not marry me, I pray\nyou, insomuch as ye have won me, that ye will give me to a knight of\nthis country that hath been my friend and loved me many years. With all\nmy heart, said Alisander, I will assent thereto. Then was the knight\nsent for; his name was Sir Gerine le Grose. And anon he made them\nhandfast and wedded them. Then came queen Morgan le Fay to Alisander,\nand bad him arise, and put him in a horse-litter: and gave him such a\ndrink that in three days and three nights he waked never but slept: and\nso she brought him to her own castle, that at that time was called La\nBeale Regard. Then Morgan le Fay came to Alisander, and asked him if he\nwould fain be whole. Who would be sick, said Alisander, and he might be\nwhole? Well, said Morgan le Fay, then shall ye promise me by your\nknighthood that this day twelvemonth and a day ye shall not pass the\ncompass of this castle, and without doubt ye shall lightly be whole. I\nassent, said Sir Alisander. And there he made her a promise. Then was\nhe soon whole. And when Alisander was whole then he repented him of his\noath, for he might not be revenged upon king Mark. Right so there came\na damsel that was cousin to the Earl of Pase, and she was cousin to\nMorgan le Fay. And by right that castle of La Beale Regard should have\nbeen hers by true inheritance. So this damsel entered into this castle\nwhere lay Alisander, and there she found him upon his bed, passing\nheavy and all sad.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXVIII.\n\n_How Alisander was delivered from the queen Morgan le Fay by the means\n of a damsel._\n\nSir knight, said the damsel, and ye would be merry, I could tell you\ngood tidings. Well were me, said Alisander, and I might hear of good\ntidings, for now I stand as a prisoner by my promise. Sir, said she,\nwit you well that ye be a prisoner, and worse than ye ween. For my\nlady, my cousin queen Morgan le Fay, keepeth you here for none other\nintent but for to do her pleasure with you, when it liketh her. Defend\nme, said Alisander, from such pleasure, for I had lever die than I\nwould do her such pleasure. Truly, said the damsel, and ye would love\nme and be ruled by me, I shall make your deliverance with your worship.\nTell me, said Alisander, by what mean, and ye shall have my love. Fair\nknight, said she, this castle of right ought to be mine, and I have an\nuncle the which is a mighty earl, he is earl of Pase, and of all folks\nhe hateth most Morgan le Fay, and I shall send unto him, and pray him\nfor my sake to destroy this castle for the evil customs that be used\ntherein; and then will he come and set wild fire on every part of the\ncastle, and I shall get you out at a privy postern, and there shall ye\nhave your horse and your harness. Ye say well, damsel, said Alisander.\nAnd then she said, Ye may keep the room of this castle this twelvemonth\nand a day, then break ye not your oath. Truly, fair damsel, said\nAlisander, ye say sooth. And then he kissed her. So anon she sent unto\nher uncle, and bad him come and destroy that castle; for as the book\nsaith, he would have destroyed that castle afore time, had not that\ndamsel been. When the earl understood her letters he sent her word\nagain, that on such a day he would come and destroy that castle. So\nwhen that day came, she shewed Alisander a postern where through he\nshould flee into a garden, and there he should find his armour and his\nhorse. When the day came that was set, thither came the earl of Pase\nwith four hundred knights, and set on fire all the parts of the castle,\nthat, or they ceased, they left not a stone standing. And all this\nwhile that the fire was in the castle, he abode in the garden. And when\nthe fire was done, he let make a cry that he would keep that piece of\nearth, there as the castle of La Beale Regard was, a twelvemonth and a\nday, from all manner knights that would come.\n\nSo it happed there was a duke that hight Ansirus, and he was of the kin\nof Sir Launcelot. And this knight was a great pilgrim, for every third\nyear he would be at Jerusalem. And because he used all his life to go\nin pilgrimage, men called him duke Ansirus the pilgrim. And this duke\nhad a daughter that hight Alice, that was a passing fair woman, and\nbecause of her father she was called Alice La Beale Pilgrim. And anon\nas she heard of this cry, she went unto Arthur\u2019s court, and said openly\nin hearing of many knights, That what knight may overcome that knight\nthat keepeth that piece of earth shall have me and all my lands. When\nthe knights of the Round Table heard her say thus, many were glad, for\nshe was passing fair, and of great rents. Right so she let cry in\ncastles and towns as fast on her side as Sir Alisander did on his side.\nThen she dressed her pavilion straight by the piece of earth that\nAlisander kept. So she was not so soon there but there came a knight of\nArthur\u2019s court, that hight Sagramor le Desirous, and he proffered to\njust with Alisander, and they encountered, and Sagramor le Desirous\nbruised his spear upon Sir Alisander, but Sir Alisander smote him so\nhard that he avoided his saddle. And when La Beale Alice saw him just\nso well, she thought him a passing goodly knight on horseback. And then\nshe lept out of her pavilion and took Sir Alisander by the bridle, and\nthus she said: Fair knight, I require thee of thy knighthood, shew me\nthy visage. I dare well, said Alisander, shew my visage. And then he\nput off his helm; and when she saw his visage she said, Truly, thee I\nmust love and never other. Then shew me your visage, said he.\n\n\n CHAP. XXXIX.\n\n_How Alisander met with Alice la Beale Pilgrim, and how he justed with\n two knights; and after of him and of Sir Mordred._\n\nThen she unwimpled her visage. And when he saw her he said, Here have I\nfound my love and my lady. Truly, fair lady, said he, I promise you to\nbe your knight, and none other that beareth the life. Now, gentle\nknight, said she, tell me your name. My name is, said he, Alisander le\nOrphelin. Now, damsel, tell me your name, said he. My name is, said\nshe, Alice la Beale Pilgrim. And when we be more at our heart\u2019s ease,\nboth ye and I shall tell each other of what blood we be come. So there\nwas great love betwixt them. And as they thus talked, there came a\nknight that hight Harsouse le Berbuse, and asked part of Sir\nAlisander\u2019s spears. Then Sir Alisander encountered with him, and at the\nfirst Sir Alisander smote him over his horse croup. And then there came\nanother knight that hight Sir Hewgon. And Sir Alisander smote him down\nas he did that other. Then Sir Hewgon proffered to do battle on foot.\nSir Alisander overcame him with three strokes, and there would have\nslain him had he not yielded him. So then Alisander made both those\nknights to swear to wear none armour in a twelvemonth and a day. Then\nSir Alisander alight down, and went to rest him and repose him. Then\nthe damsel that halp Sir Alisander out of the castle, in her play told\ndame Alice altogether how he was prisoner of the castle of La Beale\nRegard: and there she told her how she gat him out of prison. Sir, said\nAlice la Beale Pilgrim, me seemeth ye are much beholden to this maiden.\nThat is truth, said Sir Alisander. And there Alice told him of what\nblood she was come. Sir, wit ye well, she said, that I am of the blood\nof king Ban, that was father unto Sir Launcelot. Ye wis, fair lady,\nsaid Alisander, my mother told me that my father was brother unto a\nking, and I am nigh cousin to Sir Tristram. Then this while came there\nthree knights, that one hight Vains, and that other hight Harvis de les\nMarches, and the third hight Perin de la Montaine. And with one spear\nSir Alisander smote them down all three, and gave them such falls that\nthey had no list to fight upon foot. So he made them to swear to wear\nno arms in a twelvemonth. So when they were departed, Sir Alisander\nbeheld his lady Alice on horseback as he stood in her pavilion. And\nthen he was so enamoured upon her, that he wist not whether he were on\nhorseback or on foot. Right so came the false knight Sir Mordred, and\nsaw Sir Alisander was assotted upon his lady: and therewithal he took\nhis horse by the bridle and led him here and there, and had cast to\nhave led him out of that place to have shamed him. When the damsel that\nhalp him out of that castle saw how shamefully he was led, anon she let\narm her, and set a shield upon her shoulder. And therewith she mounted\nupon his horse, and gat a naked sword in her hand, and she thrust unto\nAlisander with all her might, and she gave him such a buffet that he\nthought the fire flew out of his eyes. And when Alisander felt that\nstroke he looked about him, and drew his sword. And when she saw that,\nshe fled, and so did Mordred into the forest, and the damsel fled into\nthe pavilion. So when Sir Alisander understood himself how the false\nknight would have shamed him, had not the damsel been, then was he\nwroth with himself that Sir Mordred was so escaped his hands. But then\nSir Alisander and dame Alice had good game at the damsel, how sadly she\nhit him upon the helm. Then Sir Alisander justed thus day by day, and\non foot he did many battles with many knights of king Arthur\u2019s court,\nand with many knights strangers. Therefore to tell all the battles that\nhe did it were overmuch to rehearse, for every day within that\ntwelvemonth he had ado with one knight or with other, and some day he\nhad ado with three or with four. And there was never knight that put\nhim to the worse. And at the twelvemonth\u2019s end he departed with his\nlady Alice la Beale Pilgrim. And the damsel would never go from him:\nand so they went into their country of Benoye, and lived there in great\njoy.\n\n\n CHAP. XL.\n\n_How Sir Galahalt did do cry a justs in Surluse, and queen Guenever\u2019s\n knights should just against all that would come._\n\nBut as the book saith, king Mark would never stint till he had slain\nhim by treason. And by Alice he gat a child which hight Bellengerus le\nBeuse. And by good fortune he came to the court of king Arthur, and\nproved a passing good knight: and he revenged his father\u2019s death; for\nthe false king Mark slew both Sir Tristram and Alisander falsely and\nfeloniously. And it happed so that Alisander had never grace nor\nfortune to come unto king Arthur\u2019s court. For and he had come to Sir\nLauncelot, all knights said that knew him, he was one of the strongest\nknights that was in Arthur\u2019s days. And great dole was made for him.\n\nSo let we of him pass, and turn we to another tale. So it befell that\nSir Galahalt the haut prince was lord of the country of Surluse,\nwhereof came many good knights. And this noble prince was a passing\ngood man of arms, and ever he held a noble fellowship together. And\nthen he came to Arthur\u2019s court, and told him his intent, how this was\nhis will, how he would let cry a justs in the country of Surluse, the\nwhich country was within the lands of king Arthur, and there he asked\nleave to let cry a justs. I will give you leave, said king Arthur. But\nwit thou well, said king Arthur, I may not be there. Sir, said queen\nGuenever, please it you to give me leave to be at that justs. With\nright good will, said Arthur, for Sir Galahalt the haut prince shall\nhave you in governance. Sir, said Galahalt, I will as ye will. Sir,\nthen the queen I will take with me, and such knights as please me best.\nDo as ye list, said king Arthur. So anon she commanded Sir Launcelot to\nmake him ready with such knights as he thought best. So in every good\ntown and castle of this land was made a cry, that in the country of\nSurluse Sir Galahalt should make a justs that should last eight days:\nand how the haut prince with the help of queen Guenever\u2019s knights\nshould just against all manner of men that would come. When this cry\nwas known, kings and princes, dukes and earls, barons and noble\nknights, made them ready to be at that justs. And at the day of justing\nthere came in Sir Dinadan disguised, and did many great deeds of arms.\n\n\n CHAP. XLI.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot fought in the tournament, and how Sir Palamides did\n arms there for a damsel._\n\nThen at the request of queen Guenever and of king Bagdemagus, Sir\nLauncelot came into the range, but he was disguised, and that was the\ncause that few folk knew him. And there met with him Sir Ector de Maris\nhis own brother, and either brake their spears upon other to their\nhands. And then either gat another spear, and then Sir Launcelot smote\ndown Sir Ector de Maris his own brother. That saw Sir Bleoberis, and he\nsmote Sir Launcelot such a buffet upon the helm that he wist not well\nwhere he was. Then Sir Launcelot was wroth, and smote Sir Bleoberis so\nsore upon the helm that his head bowed down backward. And he smote eft\nanother buffet that he avoided his saddle. And so he rode by and thrust\nforth to the thickest. When the king of Northgalis saw Sir Ector and\nSir Bleoberis lie on the ground, then he was wonderous wroth, for they\ncame on his part against them of Surluse. So the king of Northgalis ran\nto Sir Launcelot, and brake a spear upon him all to pieces. Therewith\nSir Launcelot overtook the king of Northgalis and smote him such a\nbuffet on the helm with his sword that he made him to avoid his horse;\nand anon the king was horsed again. So both the king Bagdemagus and the\nking of Northgalis party hurled together: and then began a strong\nmeddle, but they of Northgalis were far bigger.\n\nWhen Sir Launcelot saw his party go to the worst, he thronged into the\nthickest press with a sword in his hand, and there he smote down on the\nright hand and on the left hand, and pulled down knights, and rased off\ntheir helms, that all men had wonder that ever one knight might do such\ndeeds of arms. When Sir Meliagant, that was son unto king Bagdemagus,\nsaw how Sir Launcelot fared, he marvelled greatly. And when he\nunderstood that it was he, he wist well that he was disguised for his\nsake. Then Sir Meliagant prayed a knight to slay Sir Launcelot\u2019s horse,\neither with sword or with spear. At that time king Bagdemagus met with\na knight that hight Sauseise, a good knight, to whom he said, Now fair\nSauseise, encounter with my son Meliagant, and give him large payment;\nfor I would he were well beaten of thy hands, that he might depart out\nof the field. And then Sir Sauseise encountered with Sir Meliagant, and\neither smote other down. And then they fought on foot, and there\nSauseise had won Sir Meliagant had not there come rescues. So then the\nhaut prince blew to lodging. And every knight unarmed him and went to\nthe great feast. Then in the meanwhile there came a damsel unto the\nhaut prince, and complained that there was a knight that hight\nGoneries, that withheld her all her lands. Then the knight was there\npresent, and cast his glove to him, or to any that would fight in her\nname. So the damsel took up the glove all heavily for default of a\nchampion. Then there came a varlet to her and said, Damsel, will ye do\nafter me? Full fain, said the damsel. Then go ye unto such a knight\nthat lyeth here beside in an hermitage, and that followeth the questing\nbeast, and pray him to take the battle upon him, and anon I wot well he\nwill grant you.\n\nSo anon she took her palfrey, and within awhile she found that knight,\nthat was Sir Palamides. And when she required him, he armed him and\nrode with her, and made her to go to the haut prince, and to ask leave\nfor her knight to do battle. I will well, said the haut prince. Then\nthe knights were ready in the field to just on horseback: and either\ngat a spear in their hands, and met so fiercely together that their\nspears all to-shivered. And then they flung out swords, and Sir\nPalamides smote Sir Goneries down to the earth, and then he rased off\nhis helm, and smote off his head. Then they went to supper. And the\ndamsel loved Sir Palamides, but the book saith she was of his kin. So\nthen Sir Palamides disguised him in this manner; in his shield he bear\nthe questing beast, and in all his trappings. And when he was thus\nready, he sent to the haut prince to give him leave to just with other\nknights, but he was adoubted of Sir Launcelot. The haut prince sent him\nword again that he should be welcome, and that Sir Launcelot should not\njust with him. Then Sir Galahalt the haut prince let cry what knight\nsoever he were that smote down Sir Palamides should have his damsel to\nhimself.\n\n\n CHAP. XLII.\n\n_How Sir Galahalt and Palamides fought together, and of Sir Dinadan and\n Sir Galahalt._\n\nHere beginneth the second day. Anon as Sir Palamides came into the\nfield, Sir Galahalt the haut prince was at the range end, and met with\nSir Palamides, and he with him, with great spears. And then they came\nso hard together that their spears all to-shivered. But Sir Galahalt\nsmote him so hard that he bare him backward over his horse, but yet he\nlost not his stirrups. Then they drew their swords and lashed together\nmany sad strokes that many worshipful knights left their business to\nbehold them. But at the last Sir Galahalt the haut prince smote a\nstroke of might unto Sir Palamides sore upon the helm, but the helm was\nso hard that the sword might not bite, but slipped and smote off the\nhead of the horse of Sir Palamides. When the haut prince wist, and saw\nthe good knight fall unto the earth, he was ashamed of that stroke. And\ntherewith he alighted down off his own horse, and prayed the good\nknight Sir Palamides to take that horse of his gift, and to forgive him\nthat deed. Sir, said Palamides, I thank you of your great goodness, for\never of a man of worship a knight shall never have disworship. And so\nhe mounted upon that horse, and the haut prince had another anon. Now,\nsaid the haut prince, I release to you that maiden, for ye have won\nher. Ah, said Palamides, the damsel and I be at your commandment. So\nthey departed, and Sir Galahalt did great deeds of arms. And right so\ncame Dinadan and encountered with Sir Galahalt, and either came to\nother so fast with their spears, that their spears brake to their\nhands. But Dinadan had wend the haut prince had been more weary than he\nwas. And then he smote many sad strokes at the haut prince. But when\nDinadan saw he might not get him to the earth, he said, My lord, I pray\nyou leave me and take another. The haut prince knew not Dinadan, and\nleft goodly for his fair words, and so they departed. But soon there\ncame another, and told the haut prince that it was Dinadan. Forsooth,\nsaid the prince, therefore am I heavy that he is so escaped from me:\nfor with his mocks and jests now shall I never have done with him. And\nthen Galahalt rode fast after him, and bad him, Abide, Dinadan, for\nking Arthur\u2019s sake. Nay, said Sir Dinadan, we meet no more together\nthis day. Then in that wrath the haut prince met with Meliagant, and he\nsmote him in the throat, that and he had fallen his neck had broken,\nand with the same spear he smote down another knight. Then came in they\nof Northgalis, and many strangers, and were like to have put them of\nSurluse to the worse, for Sir Galahalt the haut prince had ever much in\nhand. So there came in the good knight Semound the Valiant, with forty\nknights, and he beat them all aback. Then the queen Guenever and Sir\nLauncelot let blow to lodging: and every knight unarmed him, and\ndressed him to the feast.\n\n\n CHAP. XLIII.\n\n_How Sir Archade appealed Sir Palamides of treason, and how Sir\nPalamides slew him._\n\nWhen Palamides was unarmed, he asked lodging for himself and the\ndamsel. Anon the haut prince commanded them to lodging. And he was not\nso soon in his lodging, but there came a knight that hight Archade; he\nwas brother unto Goneries, that Sir Palamides slew afore in the\ndamsel\u2019s quarrel. And this knight Archade called Sir Palamides traitor,\nand appealed him for the death of his brother. By the leave of the haut\nprince, said Sir Palamides, I shall answer thee. When the haut prince\nunderstood their quarrel, he bad them go to dinner, and as soon as ye\nhave dined, look that either knight be ready in the field. So when they\nhad dined, they were armed both, and took their horses; and the queen,\nand the prince, and Sir Launcelot, were set to behold them. And so they\nlet run their horses, and there Sir Palamides bare Archade on his spear\nover his horse tail. And then Palamides alight, and drew his sword; but\nSir Archade might not arise, and there Sir Palamides rased off his\nhelm, and smote off his head. Then the haut prince and queen Guenever\nwent to supper. Then king Bagdemagus sent away his son Meliagant,\nbecause Sir Launcelot should not meet with him, for he hated Sir\nLauncelot, and that knew he not.\n\n\n CHAP. XLIV.\n\n_Of the third day, and how Sir Palamides justed with Sir Lamorak, and\n other things._\n\nNow beginneth the third day of justing, and at that day king Bagdemagus\nmade him ready, and there came against him king Marsil, that had in\ngift an island of Sir Galahalt the haut prince; and this island had the\nname Pomitain. Then it befell that king Bagdemagus and king Marsil of\nPomitain met together with spears, and king Marsil had such a buffet\nthat he fell over his horse croup. Then there came in a knight of king\nMarsil, to revenge his lord: and king Bagdemagus smote him down, horse\nand man, to the earth. So there came an earl that hight Arrouse, and\nSir Breuse, and an hundred knights with them of Pomitain, and the king\nof Northgalis was with them; and all these were against them of\nSurluse. And then there began great battle, and many knights were cast\nunder horse feet. And ever king Bagdemagus did best, for he first\nbegan, and ever he held on. Gaheris, Gawaine\u2019s brother, smote ever at\nthe face of king Bagdemagus: and at the last king Bagdemagus hurtled\ndown Gaheris, horse and man. Then, by adventure, Sir Palamides, the\ngood knight, met with Sir Blamor de Ganis, Sir Bleoberis\u2019 brother, and\nthere either smote other with great spears, that both their horses and\nknights fell to the earth. But Sir Blamor had such a fall that he had\nalmost broken his neck; for the blood brast out at nose, mouth, and his\nears; but at the last he recovered well by good surgeons. Then there\ncame in duke Chaleins of Clarance, and in his governance there came a\nknight that hight Elis la Noire; and there encountered with him king\nBagdemagus, and he smote Elis that he made him to avoid his saddle. So\nthe duke Chaleins of Clarance did there great deeds of arms; and of so\nlate as he came in the third day there was no man did so well, except\nking Bagdemagus and Sir Palamides; that the prize was given that day\nunto king Bagdemagus. And then they blew unto lodging, and unarmed\nthem, and went to the feast. Right so there came Sir Dinadan, and\nmocked and jested with king Bagdemagus, that all knights laughed at\nhim; for he was a fine jester, and well loving all good knights. So\nanon as they had dined there came a varlet, bearing four spears on his\nback, and he came to Palamides and said thus: Here is a knight by hath\nsent you the choice of four spears, and requireth you for your lady\u2019s\nsake to take that one half of these spears, and just with him in the\nfield. Tell him, said Palamides, I will not fail him. When Sir Galahalt\nwist of this, he bad Palamides make him ready. So the queen Guenever,\nthe haut prince, and Sir Launcelot, they were set upon scaffolds to\ngive the judgment of these two knights.\n\nThen Sir Palamides and the strange knight ran so eagerly together that\ntheir spears brake to their hands. Anon withal either of them look a\ngreat spear in his hand and all to-shivered them in pieces. And then\neither took a greater spear. And then the knight smote down Sir\nPalamides, horse and man, to the earth. And as he would have passed\nover him, the strange knight\u2019s horse stumbled, and fell down upon\nPalamides. Then they drew their swords, and lashed together wonderly\nsore a great while. Then the haut prince and Sir Launcelot said they\nsaw never two knights fight better than they did. But ever the strange\nknight doubled his strokes, and put Palamides aback. Therewith the haut\nprince cried, Ho; and then they went to lodging. And when they were\nunarmed they knew it was the noble knight Sir Lamorak. When Sir\nLauncelot knew that it was Sir Lamorak he made much of him; for above\nall earthly men he loved him best except Sir Tristram. Then queen\nGuenever commended him, and so did all other good knights make much of\nhim, except Sir Gawaine\u2019s brethren. Then queen Guenever said unto Sir\nLauncelot, Sir, I require you that and ye just any more, that ye just\nwith none of the blood of my lord Arthur. So he promised he would not\nas at that time.\n\n\n CHAP. XLV.\n\n_Of the fourth day, and of many great feats of arms._\n\nHere beginneth the fourth day. Then came into the field the king with\nthe hundred knights, and all they of Northgalis, and the duke Chaleins\nof Clarance, and king Marsil of Pomitain. And there came Safere,\nPalamides\u2019 brother, and there he told him tidings of his mother, and\nhow he appealed an earl before king Arthur:\u2014For he made war upon our\nfather and mother, and there I slew him in plain battle. So they went\ninto the field, and the damsel with them; and there came to encounter\nagainst them Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, and Sir Ector de Maris. Sir\nPalamides encountered with Sir Bleoberis, and either smote other down;\nand in the same wise did Sir Safere and Sir Ector, and those two\ncouples did battle on foot. Then came in Sir Lamorak, and he\nencountered with the king with the hundred knights, and smote him quite\nover his horse tail; and in the same wise he served the king of\nNorthgalis, and also he smote down king Marsil. And so, or ever he\nstint, he smote down with his spear and with his sword thirty knights.\nWhen duke Chaleins saw Lamorak do so great prowess, he would not meddle\nwith him for shame; and then he charged all his knights in pain of\ndeath that none of you touch him, for it were shame to all good knights\nand that knight were shamed. Then the two kings gathered them together,\nand all they set upon Sir Lamorak, and he failed them not, but rashed\nhere and there, smiting on the right hand and on the left, and rased\noff many helms, so that the haut prince and queen Guenever said they\nsaw never knight do such deeds of arms on horseback. Alas, said\nLauncelot to king Bagdemagus, I will arm me and help Sir Lamorak. And I\nwill ride with you, said king Bagdemagus. And when they two were\nhorsed, they came to Sir Lamorak, that stood among thirty knights, and\nwell was him that might reach him a buffet: and ever he smote again\nmightily. Then came there into the press Sir Launcelot, and he threw\ndown Sir Mador de la Porte, and with the truncheon of that spear he\nthrew down many knights. And king Bagdemagus smote on the left hand and\non the right hand marvellously well. And then the three kings fled\naback. Therewithal then Sir Galahalt let blow to lodging, and all the\nheralds gave Sir Lamorak the prize. And all this while fought\nPalamides, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Safere, Sir Ector, on foot. Never were\nthere four knights evener matched. And then they were parted, and had\nunto their lodging, and unarmed them, and so they went to the great\nfeast.\n\nBut when Sir Lamorak was come unto the court, queen Guenever took him\nin her arms, and said, Sir, well have ye done this day. Then came the\nhaut prince, and he made of him great joy, and so did Dinadan, for he\nwept for joy. But the joy that Sir Launcelot made of Sir Lamorak there\nmight no man tell. Then they went unto rest; and on the morn the haut\nprince let blow unto the field.\n\n\n CHAP. XLVI.\n\n_Of the fifth day, and how Sir Lamorak behaved him._\n\nHere beginneth the fifth day. So it befell that Sir Palamides came in\nthe morn-tide and proffered to just there as king Arthur was, in a\ncastle there beside Surluse; and there encountered with him a\nworshipful duke, and there Sir Palamides smote him over his horse\ncroup. And this duke was uncle unto king Arthur. Then Sir Elise\u2019s son\nrode unto Palamides, and Palamides served Elise in the same wise. When\nSir Uwaine saw this, he was wroth. Then he took his horse, and\nencountered with Sir Palamides, and Palamides smote him so hard that he\nwent to the earth, horse and man. And for to make a short tale, he\nsmote down three brethren of Sir Gawaine\u2019s, that is for to say,\nMordred, Gaheris, and Agravaine. Truly, said Arthur, this is a great\ndespite of a Saracen, that he shall smite down my blood. And\ntherewithal king Arthur was wood wroth, and thought to have made him\nready to just. That espied Sir Lamorak, that Arthur and his blood were\ndiscomfited. And anon he was ready, and asked Palamides if he would any\nmore just. Why should I not? said Palamides. Then they hurtled\ntogether, and brake their spears and all to-shivered them, that all the\ncastle rang of their dints. Then either gat a greater spear in his\nhand, and they came so fiercely together; but Sir Palamides\u2019 spear all\nto-brast, and Sir Lamorak\u2019s did hold. Therewithal Sir Palamides lost\nhis stirrups and lay upright on his horse\u2019s back. And then Sir\nPalamides returned again, and took his damsel, and Sir Safere returned\nhis way. So when he was departed, king Arthur came to Sir Lamorak, and\nthanked him of his goodness, and prayed him to tell him his name. Sir,\nsaid Lamorak, wit you well, I owe you my service: but as at this time I\nwill not abide here, for I see of mine enemies many about me. Alas,\nsaid Arthur, now wot I well it is Sir Lamorak de Galis. O, Lamorak,\nabide with me, and by my crown I shall never fail thee: and not so\nhardy in Gawaine\u2019s head, nor none of his brethren, to do thee any\nwrong. Sir, said Sir Lamorak, wrong have they done me and to you both.\nThat is truth, said king Arthur, for they slew their own mother and my\nsister, which me sore grieveth. It had been much fairer and better that\nye had wedded her, for ye are a king\u2019s son as well as they. Truly, said\nthe noble knight Sir Lamorak unto Arthur, her death shall I never\nforget; I promise you and make mine avow I shall avenge her death as\nsoon as I see time convenient. And if it were not at the reverence of\nyour highness I should now have been revenged upon Sir Gawaine and his\nbrethren. Truly, said Arthur, I will make you at accord. Sir, said\nLamorak, as at this time I may not abide with you, for I must to the\njusts, where is Sir Launcelot and the haut prince Sir Galahalt.\n\nThen there was a damsel that was daughter to king Bandes; and there was\na Saracen knight that hight Corsabrin, and he loved the damsel, and in\nno wise he would suffer her to be married. For ever this Sir Corsabrin\ndefamed her, and named her that she was out of her mind; and thus he\nlet her that she might not be married.\n\n\n CHAP. XLVII.\n\n_How Sir Palamides fought with Corsabrin for a lady, and how Palamides\n slew Corsabrin._\n\nSo by fortune this damsel heard tell that Palamides did much for\ndamsels\u2019 sakes; so she sent to him a pensel, and prayed him to fight\nwith Sir Corsabrin for her love, and he should have her, and her lands\nof her father\u2019s that should fall to her. Then the damsel sent unto\nCorsabrin, and bad him go unto Sir Palamides, that was a Paynim as well\nas he: and she gave him warning that she had sent him her pensel; and\nif he might overcome Palamides she would wed him. When Corsabrin wist\nof her deeds, then was he wood wroth and angry, and rode unto Surluse,\nwhere the haut prince was, and there he found Sir Palamides ready, the\nwhich had the pensel. So there they waged battle either with other\nafore Galahalt. Well, said the haut prince, this day must noble knights\njust, and at after dinner we shall see how ye can speed. Then they blew\nto justs. And in came Dinadan, and met with Sir Gerin, a good knight,\nand he threw him down over his horse croup: and Sir Dinadan overthrew\nfour knights more; and there he did great deeds of arms. For he was a\ngood knight, but he was a scoffer, and a jester, and the merriest\nknight among fellowship that was that time living. And he had such a\ncustom that he loved every good knight, and every good knight loved him\nagain. So then when the haut prince saw Dinadan do so well, he sent\nunto Sir Launcelot, and bade him strike down Sir Dinadan:\u2014And when\nthat ye have done so, bring him afore me and the noble queen Guenever.\nThen Sir Launcelot did as he was required. Then Sir Lamorak and he\nsmote down many knights, and rased off helms, and drove all the knights\nafore them. And so Sir Launcelot smote down Sir Dinadan, and made his\nmen to unarm him, and so brought him to the queen and the haut prince,\nand then laughed at Sir Dinadan so sore that they might not stand.\nWell, said Sir Dinadan, yet have I no shame, for the old shrew Sir\nLauncelot smote me down. So they went to dinner, and all the court had\ngood sport at Dinadan. Then when the dinner was done, they blew to the\nfield, to behold Sir Palamides and Corsabrin. Sir Palamides pight his\npensel in the midst of the field, and then they hurtled together with\ntheir spears as it were thunder, and either smote other to the earth.\nAnd then they pulled their swords, and dressed their shields, and\nlashed together mightily as mighty knights, that well nigh there was no\npiece of harness would hold them. For this Corsabrin was a passing\nfelonious knight. Corsabrin, said Palamides, wilt thou release me\nyonder damsel, and the pensel? Then was Corsabrin wroth out of measure,\nand gave Palamides such a buffet that he kneeled on his knee. Then\nPalamides arose lightly, and smote him upon the helm that he fell down\nright to the earth. And therewith he rased off his helm, and said,\nCorsabrin, yield thee, or else thou shalt die of my hands. Fie on thee,\nsaid Corsabrin, do thy worst. Then he smote off his head. And\ntherewithal came a stench of his body when the soul departed, so that\nthere might no body abide the savour. So was the corpse had away and\nburied in a wood, because he was a Paynim.\n\nThen they blew unto lodging, and Palamides was unarmed. Then he went\nunto queen Guenever, to the haut prince, and to Sir Launcelot. Sir,\nsaid the haut prince, here have ye seen this day a great miracle by\nCorsabrin, what savour there was when the soul departed from the body.\nTherefore, Sir, we will require you to take the baptism upon you; and I\npromise you, all knights will set the more by you, and say more worship\nby you. Sir, said Palamides, I will that ye all know that into this\nland I came to be christened, and in my heart I am christened, and\nchristened will I be. But I have made such an avow, that I may not be\nchristened till I have done seven true battles for Jesus\u2019 sake. And\nthen will I be christened. And I trust God will take mine intent, for I\nmean truly. Then Sir Palamides prayed queen Guenever and the haut\nprince to sup with him. And so they did both, Sir Launcelot, and Sir\nLamorak, and many other good knights. So on the morn they heard their\nmass, and blew the field; and then knights made them ready.\n\n\n CHAP. XLVIII.\n\n_Of the sixth day, and what then was done._\n\nHere beginneth the sixth day. Then came there in Sir Gaheris, and there\nencountered with him Sir Ossaise of Surluse, and Sir Gaheris smote him\nover his horse croup. And then either party encountered with other, and\nthere was many spears broken, and many knights cast under feet. So\nthere came Sir Dornard and Sir Aglovale, that were brethren unto Sir\nLamorak, and they met with other two knights, and either smote other so\nhard that all four knights and horses fell to the earth. When Sir\nLamorak saw his two brethren down he was wroth out of measure. And then\nhe gat a great spear in his hand, and therewithal he smote down four\ngood knights, and then his spear brake. Then he pulled out his sword,\nand smote about him on the right hand and on the left hand, and rased\noff helms and pulled down knights, that all men marvelled of such deeds\nof arms as he did, for he fared so that many knights fled. Then he\nhorsed his brethren again, and said, Brethren, ye ought to be ashamed\nto fall so off your horses; what is a knight but when he is on\nhorseback? I set not by a knight when he is on foot, for all battles on\nfoot are but pelowres battles. For there should no knight fight on\nfoot, but if it were for treason, or else he were driven thereto by\nforce: therefore, brethren, sit fast upon your horses, or else fight\nnever more afore me. With that came in duke Chaleins of Clarance; and\nthere encountered with him the earl Ulbawes of Surluse, and either of\nthem smote other down. Then the knights of both parties horsed their\nlords again; for Sir Ector and Bleoberis were on foot, waiting on the\nduke Chaleins; and the king with the hundred knights was with the earl\nof Ulbawes. With that came Gaheris, and lashed to the king with the\nhundred knights, and he to him again. Then came the duke Chaleins and\ndeparted them. Then they blew to lodging, and the knights unarmed them,\nand drew them to their dinner; and at the midst of their dinner in came\nDinadan, and began to rail. Then he beheld the haut prince, that seemed\nwroth with some fault that he saw. For he had a custom he loved no\nfish; and because he was served with fish, the which he hated,\ntherefore he was not merry. When Sir Dinadan had espied the haut\nprince, he espied where was a fish with a great head, and that he gat\nbetwixt two dishes, and served the haut prince with that fish. And then\nhe said thus: Sir Galahalt, well may I liken you to a wolf, for he will\nnever eat fish, but flesh. Then the haut prince laughed at his words.\nWell, well, said Dinadan to Launcelot, what do ye in this country; for\nhere may no mean knights win no worship for thee? Sir Dinadan, said\nLauncelot, I ensure thee that I shall no more meet with thee, nor with\nthy great spear, for I may not sit in my saddle when that spear hitteth\nme. And if I be happy, I shall beware of that boisterous body that thou\nbearest. Well, said Launcelot, make good watch ever. God forbid that\never we meet, but if it be at a dish of meat. Then laughed the queen\nand the haut prince, that they might not sit at their table. Thus they\nmade great joy till on the morn. And then they heard mass, and blew to\nfield. And queen Guenever and all the estates were set, and judges\narmed clean with their shields to keep the right.\n\n\n CHAP. XLIX.\n\n_Of the seventh battle, and how Sir Launcelot, being disguised like a\n maid, smote down Sir Dinadan._\n\nNow beginneth the seventh battle. There came in the duke Cambines, and\nthere encountered with him Sir Aristance, that was counted a good\nknight, and they met so hard that either bare other down, horse and\nman. Then came there the earl of Lambaile, and helped the duke again to\nhorse. Then came there Sir Ossaise of Surluse, and he smote the earl\nLambaile down from his horse. Then began they to do great deeds of\narms, and many spears were broken, and many knights were cast to the\nearth. Then the king of Northgalis and the earl Ulbawes smote together,\nthat all the judges thought it was like mortal death. This mean while\nqueen Guenever and the haut prince and Sir Launcelot made there Sir\nDinadan make him ready to just. I would, said Sir Dinadan, ride into\nthe field, but then one of you twain will meet with me. Perdy, said the\nhaut prince, ye may see how we sit here as judges with our shields, and\nalways mayest thou behold whether we sit here or not. So Sir Dinadan\ndeparted, and took his horse, and met with many knights, and did\npassing well. And as he was departed, Sir Launcelot disguised himself,\nand put upon his armour a maiden\u2019s garment freshly attired. Then Sir\nLauncelot made Sir Galihodin to lead him through the range, and all men\nhad wonder what damsel it was. And so as Sir Dinadan came into the\nrange, Sir Launcelot, that was in the damsel\u2019s array, gat Galihodin\u2019s\nspear, and ran unto Sir Dinadan. And always Sir Dinadan looked up there\nas Sir Launcelot was, and then he saw one sit in the stead of Sir\nLauncelot, armed. But when Dinadan saw a manner of a damsel, he dread\nperils that it was Sir Launcelot disguised. But Sir Launcelot came on\nhim so fast that he smote him over his horse croup. And then with great\nscorns they gat Sir Dinadan into the forest there beside, and there\nthey despoiled him unto his shirt, and put upon him a woman\u2019s garment,\nand so brought him into the field, and so they blew unto lodging. And\nevery knight went and unarmed him. Then was Sir Dinadan brought in\namong them all. And when queen Guenever saw Sir Dinadan brought so\namong them all, then she laughed that she fell down, and so did all\nthat were there. Well, said Dinadan to Launcelot, thou art so false\nthat I can never beware of thee. Then, by all the assent, they gave Sir\nLauncelot the prize: the next was Sir Lamorak de Galis; the third was\nSir Palamides; the fourth was king Bagdemagus. So these four knights\nhad the prize. And there was great joy and great nobley in all the\ncourt. And on the morn queen Guenever and Sir Launcelot departed unto\nking Arthur; but in no wise Sir Lamorak would not go with them. I shall\nundertake, said Sir Launcelot, that, and ye will go with us king Arthur\nshall charge Sir Gawaine and his brethren never to do you hurt. As for\nthat, said Sir Lamorak, I will not trust Sir Gawaine, nor none of his\nbrethren; and wit ye well Sir Launcelot, and it were not for my lord\nking Arthur\u2019s sake, I should match Sir Gawaine and his brethren well\nenough. But to say that I should trust them, that shall I never. And\ntherefore I pray you recommend me unto my lord Arthur, and unto all my\nlords of the Round Table. And in what place that ever I come I shall do\nyou service to my power: and, sir, it is but late that I revenged that\nwhen my lord Arthur\u2019s kin were put to the worse by Sir Palamides. Then\nSir Lamorak departed from Sir Launcelot, and either wept at their\ndeparting.\n\n\n CHAP. L.\n\n_How by treason Sir Tristram was brought to a tournament for to have\n been slain, and how he was put in prison._\n\nNow turn we from this matter, and speak we of Sir Tristram, of whom\nthis book is principally of; and leave we the king and the queen, Sir\nLauncelot, and Sir Lamorak. And here beginneth the treason of king Mark\nthat he ordained against Sir Tristram. There was cried by the coasts of\nCornwall a great tournament and justs. And all was done by Sir Galahalt\nthe haut prince, and king Bagdemagus, to the intent to slay Sir\nLauncelot, or else utterly destroy him and shame him, because Sir\nLauncelot had always the higher degree: therefore this prince and this\nking made this justs against Sir Launcelot. And thus their counsel was\ndiscovered unto king Mark, whereof he was full glad. Then king Mark\nbethought him that he would have Sir Tristram unto that tournament\ndisguised that no man should know him, to that intent that the haut\nprince should ween that Sir Tristram were Sir Launcelot. So at these\njusts came in Sir Tristram. And at that time Sir Launcelot was not\nthere, but when they saw a knight disguised do such deeds of arms, they\nwend it had been Sir Launcelot. And in especial king Mark said it was\nSir Launcelot plainly. Then they set upon him, both king Bagdemagus and\nthe haut prince, and their knights, that it was wonder that ever Sir\nTristram might endure that pain. Notwithstanding for all the pain that\nhe had, Sir Tristram wan the degree at that tournament, and there he\nhurt many knights, and bruised them, and they hurt him, and bruised him\nwonderly sore. So when the justs were all done they knew well that it\nwas Sir Tristram de Liones. And all that were on king Mark\u2019s party were\nglad that Sir Tristram was hurt, and the remnant were sorry of his\nhurt; for Sir Tristram was not so behated as was Sir Launcelot within\nthe realm of England. Then came king Mark unto Sir Tristram, and said,\nFair nephew, I am sorry of your hurts. Gramercy, my lord, said Sir\nTristram. Then king Mark made Sir Tristram for to be put in a horse\nbier, in great sign of love, and said, Fair cousin, I shall be your\nleech myself. And so he rode forth with Sir Tristram, and brought him\nto a castle by daylight. And then king Mark made Sir Tristram to eat,\nand then after he gave him a drink, the which as soon as he had drunk\nhe fell on sleep; and when it was night he made him to be carried to\nanother castle, and there he put him in a strong prison, and there he\nordained a man and a woman to give him his meat and drink. So there he\nwas a great while. Then was Sir Tristram missed, and no creature wist\nwhere he was become. When La Beale Isoud heard how he was missed,\nprivily she went unto Sir Sadok, and prayed him to espy where was Sir\nTristram. Then when Sadok wist how Sir Tristram was missed, and anon\nespied that he was put in prison by king Mark and the traitors of\nMagons, then Sadok and two of his cousins laid them in an ambushment,\nfast by the castle of Tintagil, in arms. And as by fortune there came\nriding king Mark and four of his nephews, and a certain of the traitors\nof Magons. When Sir Sadok espied them he brake out of the bushment, and\nset there upon them. And when king Mark espied Sir Sadok he fled as\nfast as he might. And there Sir Sadok slew all the four nephews unto\nking Mark. But these traitors of Magons slew one of Sadok\u2019s cousins,\nwith a great wound in the neck, but Sadok smote the other to death.\nThen Sir Sadok rode upon his way unto a castle that was called Liones,\nand there he espied of the treason and felony of king Mark. So they of\nthat castle rode with Sir Sadok till that they came to a castle that\nhight Arbray. And there in the town they found Sir Dinas the seneschal,\nthat was a good knight. But when Sir Sadok had told Sir Dinas of all\nthe treason of king Mark, he defied such a king, and said he would give\nup his lands that he held of him. And when he said these words all\nmanner knights said as Sir Dinas said. Then by his advice, and of Sir\nSadok\u2019s, he let stuff all the towns and castles within the country of\nLiones, and assembled all the people that they might make.\n\n\n CHAP. LI.\n\n_How king Mark let do counterfeit letters from the Pope, and how Sir\n Percivale delivered Sir Tristram out of prison._\n\nNow turn we unto king Mark, that when he was escaped from Sir Sadok he\nrode unto the castle of Tintagil, and there he made great cry and\nnoise, and cried unto harness all that might bear arms. Then they\nsought and found where were dead four cousins of king Mark\u2019s, and the\ntraitors of Magons. Then the king let inter them in a chapel. Then the\nking let cry in all the country that held of him, to go unto arms, for\nhe understood to the war he must needs. When king Mark heard and\nunderstood how Sir Sadok and Sir Dinas were risen in the country of\nLiones, he remembered of wiles and treason. Lo, thus he did: he let\nmake and counterfeit letters from the Pope, and did make a strange\nclerk to bear them unto king Mark. The which letters specified, that\nking Mark should make him ready, upon pain of cursing, with his host to\ncome to the Pope, to help to go to Jerusalem, for to make war upon the\nSaracens. When this clerk was come by the mean of the king, anon withal\nking Mark sent these letters unto Sir Tristram, and bad him say thus;\nThat and he would go war upon the miscreants, he should be had out of\nprison, and to have all his power. When Sir Tristram understood this\nletter, then he said thus to the clerk: Ah, king Mark, ever hast thou\nbeen a traitor, and ever wilt be: but clerk, said Sir Tristram, say\nthou thus unto king Mark. Since the apostle Pope hath sent for him, bid\nhim go thither himself, for tell him, traitor king as he is, I will not\ngo at his command, get I out of my prison as I may. For I see I am well\nrewarded for my true service. Then the clerk returned unto king Mark,\nand told him of the answer of Sir Tristram. Well, said king Mark, yet\nshall he be beguiled. So he went into his chamber, and counterfeited\nletters, and the letters specified that the Pope desired Sir Tristram\nto come himself to make war upon the miscreants. When the clerk was\ncome again unto Sir Tristram and took him these letters, then Sir\nTristram beheld these letters, and anon espied they were of king Mark\u2019s\ncounterfeiting. Ah, said Sir Tristram, false hast thou been ever, king\nMark, and so wilt thou end. Then the clerk departed from Sir Tristram,\nand came to king Mark again. By then there were come four wounded\nknights within the castle of Tintagil, and one of them his neck was\nnigh broken in twain, another had his arm stricken away, the third was\nborne through with a spear, the fourth had his teeth stricken in twain.\nAnd when they came afore king Mark they cried and said, King, why\nfleest thou not, for all this country is arisen clearly against thee.\nThen was king Mark wroth out of measure. And in the mean while there\ncame into the country Sir Percivale de Galis, to seek Sir Tristram. And\nwhen he heard that Sir Tristram was in prison, Sir Percivale made\nclearly the deliverance of Sir Tristram by his knightly means. And when\nhe was so delivered he made great joy of Sir Percivale, and so each one\nof other. Sir Tristram said unto Sir Percivale, And ye will abide in\nthese marches, I will ride with you. Nay, said Percivale, in this\ncountry may I not tarry, for I must needs into Wales. So Sir Percivale\ndeparted from Sir Tristram, and rode straight unto king Mark, and told\nhim how he had delivered Sir Tristram. And also he told the king that\nhe had done himself great shame for to put Sir Tristram in prison, for\nhe is now the knight of most renown in all this world living. And wit\nthou well the most noble knights of the world love Sir Tristram, and if\nhe will make war upon you ye may not abide it. That is truth, said king\nMark, but I may not love Sir Tristram because he loveth my queen and my\nwife, La Beale Isoud. Ah fie for shame, said Sir Percivale, say ye\nnever so more. Are ye not uncle unto Sir Tristram, and he your nephew?\nYe should never think that so noble a knight as Sir Tristram is, that\nhe would do himself so great a villany to hold his uncle\u2019s wife,\nhowbeit, said Sir Percivale, he may love your queen sinless, because\nshe is called one of the fairest ladies of the world. Then Sir\nPercivale departed from king Mark. So when he was departed king Mark\nbethought him of more treason, notwithstanding king Mark granted Sir\nPercivale never by no manner of means to hurt Sir Tristram. So anon\nking Mark sent unto Sir Dinas the seneschal, that he should put down\nall the people that he had raised, for he sent him an oath that he\nwould go himself unto the Pope of Rome to war upon the miscreants, and\nthis is a fairer war than thus to raise the people against your king.\nWhen Sir Dinas the seneschal understood that king Mark would go upon\nthe miscreants, then Sir Dinas in all the haste put down all the\npeople; and when the people were departed every man to his home, then\nking Mark espied where was Sir Tristram with La Beale Isoud. And there\nby treason king Mark let take him and put him in prison, contrary to\nhis promise that he made unto Sir Percivale. When queen Isoud\nunderstood that Sir Tristram was in prison she made as great sorrow as\never made lady or gentlewoman. Then Sir Tristram sent a letter unto La\nBeale Isoud, and prayed her to be his good lady; and if it pleased her\nto make a vessel ready for her and him, he would go with her unto the\nrealm of Logris, that is this land. When La Beale Isoud understood Sir\nTristram\u2019s letters and his intent, she sent him another, and bad him be\nof good comfort, for she would do make the vessel ready, and all things\nto purpose. Then La Beale Isoud sent unto Sir Dinas, and to Sadok, and\nprayed them in any wise to take king Mark and put him in prison, unto\nthe time that she and Sir Tristram were departed unto the realm of\nLogris. When Sir Dinas the seneschal understood the treason of king\nMark, he promised her again, and sent to her word that king Mark should\nbe put in prison. And as they devised it so it was done. And then Sir\nTristram was delivered out of prison, and anon in all the haste queen\nIsoud and Sir Tristram went and took their counsel with that they would\nhave with them when they departed.\n\n\n CHAP. LII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud came into England, and how Sir\n Launcelot brought them to Joyous Gard._\n\nThen La Beale Isoud and Sir Tristram took their vessel, and came by\nwater into this land. And so they were not in this land four days but\nthere came a cry of a justs and tournament that king Arthur let make.\nWhen Sir Tristram heard tell of that tournament, he disguised himself\nand La Beale Isoud, and rode unto that tournament. And when he came\nthere he saw many knights just and tourney, and so Sir Tristram dressed\nhim to the range. And to make short conclusion, he overthrew fourteen\nknights of the Round Table. When Sir Launcelot saw these knights thus\noverthrown Sir Launcelot dressed him to Sir Tristram. That saw La Beale\nIsoud, how Sir Launcelot was come into the field. Then La Beale Isoud\nsent unto Sir Launcelot a ring, and bad him wit that it was Sir\nTristram de Liones. When Sir Launcelot understood that there was Sir\nTristram, he was full glad, and would not just. Then Sir Launcelot\nespied whither Sir Tristram went, and after him he rode, and then\neither made of other great joy. And so Sir Launcelot brought Sir\nTristram and La Beale Isoud unto Joyous Gard, that was his own castle\nthat he had won with his own hands. And there Sir Launcelot put them in\nto weld for their own. And wit ye well that castle was garnished and\nfurnished for a king and a queen royal there to have sojourned. And Sir\nLauncelot charged all his people to honour them and love them as they\nwould do himself.\n\nSo Sir Launcelot departed unto king Arthur; and then he told queen\nGuenever how he that justed so well at the last tournament was Sir\nTristram. And there he told her how he had with him La Beale Isoud,\nmaugre king Mark; and so queen Guenever told all this unto king Arthur.\nWhen king Arthur wist that Sir Tristram was escaped, and come from king\nMark, and had brought La Beale Isoud with him, then was he passing\nglad. So because of Sir Tristram king Arthur let make a cry, that on\nMay-day should be a justs, before the castle of Lonazep; and that\ncastle was fast by Joyous Gard. And thus king Arthur devised, that all\nthe knights of this land, and of Cornwall, and of North Wales, should\njust against all these countries,\u2014Ireland, Scotland, and the remnant\nof Wales, and the country of Gore, and Surluse, and of Listinoise, and\nthey of Northumberland, and all they that held lands of king Arthur on\nthis half the sea. When this cry was made, many knights were glad and\nmany were unglad. Sir, said Launcelot unto Arthur, by this cry that ye\nhave made, ye will put us that be about you in great jeopardy, for\nthere be many knights that have great envy to us, therefore when we\nshall meet at the day of justs, there will be hard shift among us. As\nfor that, said Arthur, I care not, there shall we prove who shall be\nthe best of his hands. So when Sir Launcelot understood wherefore king\nArthur made this justing, then he made such purveyance that La Beale\nIsoud should behold the justs in a secret place that was honest for her\nestate.\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud, how they made great\njoy daily together with all manner of mirths that they could devise;\nand every day Sir Tristram would go ride on hunting, for Sir Tristram\nwas that time called the best chaser of the world, and the noblest\nblower of an horn of all manner of measures. For, as books report, of\nSir Tristram came all the good terms of venery and hunting, and all the\nsizes and measures of blowing of an horn; and of him we had first all\nthe terms of hawking, and which were beasts of chase, and beasts of\nvenery, and which were vermins; and all the blasts that belong to all\nmanner of games. First to the uncoupling, to the seeking, to the\nrechate, to the flight, to the death, and to strake; and many other\nblasts and terms, that all manner of gentlemen have cause to the\nworld\u2019s end to praise Sir Tristram and to pray for his soul.\n\n\n CHAP. LIII.\n\n_How by the counsel of La Beale Isoud Sir Tristram rode armed, and how\n he met with Sir Palamides._\n\nSo on a day La Beale Isoud said unto Sir Tristram, I marvel me much,\nsaid she, that ye remember not yourself, how that ye be here in a\nstrange country, and here be many perilous knights, and well ye wote\nthat king Mark is full of treason, and that ye will ride thus to chase\nand hunt unarmed; ye might be destroyed. My fair lady and my love, I\ncry you mercy, I will no more do so. So then Sir Tristram rode daily on\nhunting armed, and his men bearing his shield and his spear. So on a\nday, a little afore the month of May, Sir Tristram chased an hart\npassing eagerly, and so the hart passed by a fair well. And then Sir\nTristram alighted, and put off his helm to drink of that burbley water.\nRight so he heard and saw the questing beast come to the well. When Sir\nTristram saw that beast, he put on his helm, for he deemed he should\nhear of Sir Palamides, for that beast was his quest. Right so Tristram\nsaw where came a knight armed, upon a noble courser, and he saluted\nhim, and they spake of many things; and this knight\u2019s name was Breuse\nSance Pit\u00e9. And right so withal there came unto them the noble knight\nSir Palamides, and either saluted other, and spake fair to other. Fair\nknights, said Sir Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9, I can tell you tidings. What is\nthat? said those knights. Sirs, wit ye well that king Mark is put in\nprison by his own knights, and all was for love of Sir Tristram: for\nking Mark had put Sir Tristram twice in prison; and once Sir Percivale\ndelivered the noble knight Sir Tristram out of prison; and at the last\ntime queen La Beale Isoud delivered him, and went clearly away with him\ninto this realm: and all this while king Mark the false traitor is in\nprison. Is this truth? said Sir Palamides; then shall we hastily hear\nof Sir Tristram. And as for to say that I love La Beale Isoud, I dare\nmake good that I do, and that she hath my service above all other\nladies, and shall have the term of my life. And right so as they stood\ntalking they saw afore them where came a knight, all armed on a great\nhorse, and one of his men bare his shield, and the other his spears.\nAnd anon as that knight espied them, he gat his shield and his spear,\nand dressed him to just. Fair fellows, said Sir Tristram, yonder is a\nknight will just with us; let see which of us shall encounter with him,\nfor I see well he is of the court of king Arthur. It shall not be long\nor he be met withal, said Sir Palamides, for I found never no knight in\nmy quest of this glasting beast but, and he would just, I never refused\nhim. As well may I, said Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9, follow that beast as ye.\nThen shall ye do battle with me, said Sir Palamides. So Sir Palamides\ndressed him unto the other knight, Sir Bleoberis, that was a full noble\nknight, nigh kin unto Sir Launcelot. And so they met so hard that Sir\nPalamides fell to the earth, horse and all. Then Sir Bleoberis cried\naloud, and said thus: Make thee ready, thou false traitor knight,\nBreuse Sance Pit\u00e9, for wit thou certainly I will have ado with thee to\nthe utterance, for the noble knights and ladies that thou hast falsely\nbetrayed. When this false knight and traitor, Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9, heard\nhim say so, he took his horse by the bridle, and fled his way as fast\nas his horse might run, for sore he was of him afeard. When Sir\nBleoberis saw him flee, he followed fast after him, through thick and\nthrough thin. And by fortune as Sir Breuse fled, he saw even afore him\nthree knights of the Table Round, of the which the one hight Sir Ector\nde Maris, the other hight Sir Percivale de Galis, the third hight Sir\nHarry le Fise Lake, a good knight and an hardy. And as for Sir\nPercivale, he was called that time of his time one of the best knights\nof the world, and the best assured. When Breuse saw these knights, he\nrode straight unto them, and cried unto them, and prayed them of\nrescues. What need have ye? said Sir Ector. Ah, fair knights, said Sir\nBreuse, here followeth me the most traitor knight and most coward, and\nmost of villainy: his name is Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9; and if he may get me,\nhe will slay me without mercy and pity. Abide with us, said Sir\nPercivale, and we shall warrant you. Then were they ware of Sir\nBleoberis, that came riding all that he might. Then Sir Ector put\nhimself forth for to just afore them all. When Sir Bleoberis saw that\nthey were four knights, and he but himself, he stood in a doubt whether\nhe would turn or hold his way. Then he said to himself, I am a knight\nof the Table Round, and rather than I should shame mine oath and my\nblood I will hold my way whatsoever fall thereof. And then Sir Ector\ndressed his spear, and smote either other passing sore, but Sir Ector\nfell to the earth. That saw Sir Percivale, and he dressed his horse\ntoward him all that he might drive; but Sir Percivale had such a stroke\nthat horse and man fell to the earth. When Sir Harry saw that they were\nboth to the earth, then he said to himself, Never was Breuse of such\nprowess. So Sir Harry dressed his horse, and they met together so\nstrongly that both the horses and knights fell to the earth; but Sir\nBleoberis\u2019s horse began to recover again. That saw Sir Breuse, and he\ncame hurtling, and smote him over and over, and would have slain him as\nhe lay on the ground. Then Sir Harry le Fise Lake arose lightly, and\ntook the bridle of Sir Breuse\u2019s horse, and said, Fie for shame, strike\nnever a knight when he is at the earth; for this knight may be called\nno shameful knight of his deeds: for yet as men may see there as he\nlieth on the ground, he hath done worshipfully, and put to the worse\npassing good knights. Therefore will I not let, said Sir Breuse. Thou\nshalt not choose, said Sir Harry, as at this time. Then when Sir Breuse\nsaw that he might not choose, nor have his will, he spake fair. Then\nSir Harry let him go. And then anon he made his horse to run over Sir\nBleoberis, and rashed him to the earth like if he would have slain him.\nWhen Sir Harry saw him do so villainously, he cried, Traitor knight,\nleave off for shame. And as Sir Harry would have taken his horse to\nfight with Sir Breuse, then Sir Breuse ran upon him as he was half upon\nhis horse, and smote him down horse and man to the earth, and had near\nslain Sir Harry the good knight. That saw Sir Percivale, and then he\ncried, Traitor knight what dost thou? And when Sir Percivale was upon\nhis horse, Sir Breuse took his horse, and fled all that ever he might,\nand Sir Percivale and Sir Harry followed after him fast, but ever the\nlonger they chased the further were they behind. Then they turned\nagain, and came to Sir Ector de Maris and to Sir Bleoberis. Ah fair\nknights, said Bleoberis, why have ye succoured that false knight and\ntraitor? Why, said Sir Harry, what knight is he? for well I wot it is a\nfalse knight, said Sir Harry, and a coward, and a felonious knight.\nSir, said Bleoberis, he is the most coward knight, and a devourer of\nladies, and a destroyer of good knights, and specially of Arthur\u2019s.\nWhat is your name? said Sir Ector. My name is Sir Bleoberis de Ganis.\nAlas, fair cousin, said Ector, forgive it me, for I am Sir Ector de\nMaris. Then Sir Percivale and Sir Harry made great joy that they met\nwith Bleoberis, but all they were heavy that Sir Breuse was escaped\nthem, whereof they made great dole.\n\n\n CHAP. LIV.\n\n_Of Sir Palamides, and how he met with Sir Bleoberis and with Sir\n Ector, and of Sir Percivale._\n\nRight so as they stood thus, there came Sir Palamides; and when he saw\nthe shield of Bleoberis lie on the earth, then said Palamides, He that\nowneth that shield, let him dress him to me, for he smote me down here\nfast by at a fountain, and therefore I will fight with him on foot. I\nam ready, said Sir Bleoberis, here to answer thee; for wit thou well,\nsir knight, it was I, and my name is Bleoberis de Ganis. Well art thou\nmet, said Palamides, and wit thou well my name is Sir Palamides the\nSaracen. And either of them hated other to the death. Sir Palamides,\nsaid Ector, wit thou well, there is neither thou, nor none knight that\nbeareth the life, that slayeth any of our blood, but he shall die for\nit; therefore, and thou list to fight, go seek Sir Launcelot, or Sir\nTristram, and there shall ye find your match. With them have I met,\nsaid Palamides, but I had never no worship of them. Was there never no\nmanner of knight, said Sir Ector, but they, that ever matched with you?\nYes, said Palamides, there was the third, a good knight as any of them,\nand of his age he was the best that ever I found; for, and he might\nhave lived till he had been an hardier man, there liveth no knight now\nsuch, and his name was Sir Lamorak de Galis. And as he had justed at a\ntournament, there he overthrew me and thirty knights more, and there he\nwon the degree. And at his departing, there met him Sir Gawaine and his\nbrethren, and with great pain they slew him feloniously, unto all good\nknights\u2019 great damage. And when Sir Percivale heard that his brother\nwas dead, Sir Lamorak, he fell over his horse\u2019s mane swooning, and\nthere he made the greatest dole that ever made knight. And when Sir\nPercivale arose, he said, Alas, my good and noble brother Sir Lamorak,\nnow shall we never meet, and I trow in all the wide world a man might\nnot find such a knight as he was of his age; and it is too much to\nsuffer the death of our father king Pellinore, and now the death of our\ngood brother Sir Lamorak. Then in the mean while there came a varlet\nfrom the court of king Arthur, and told them of the great tournament\nthat should be at Lonazep, and how these lands, Cornwall, and\nNorthgalis, should be against all them that would come.\n\n\n CHAP. LV.\n\n_How Sir Tristram met with Sir Dinadan, and of their devices, and what\n he said to Sir Gawaine\u2019s brethren._\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Tristram, that as he rode on hunting he met with\nSir Dinadan, that was come into that country to seek Sir Tristram. Then\nSir Dinadan told Sir Tristram his name, but Sir Tristram would not tell\nhis name, wherefore Sir Dinadan was wroth. For such a foolish knight as\nye are, said Sir Dinadan, I saw but late this day lying by a well, and\nhe fared as he slept, and there he lay like a fool grinning, and would\nnot speak, and his shield lay by him, and his horse stood by him, and\nwell I wot he was a lover. Ah, fair sir, said Sir Tristram, are ye not\na lover? Marry, fie on that craft, said Sir Dinadan. That is evil said,\nsaid Sir Tristram, for a knight may never be of prowess, but if he be a\nlover. It is well said, said Sir Dinadan: now tell me your name, sith\nye be a lover, or else I shall do battle with you. As for that, said\nSir Tristram, it is no reason to fight with me but I tell you my name:\nand as for that, my name shall ye not wit as at this time. Fie for\nshame, said Dinadan, art thou a knight, and darest not tell thy name to\nme? therefore I will fight with thee. As for that, said Sir Tristram, I\nwill be advised, for I will not fight but if me list; and if I do\nbattle, said Sir Tristram, ye are not able to withstand me. Fie on\nthee, coward, said Sir Dinadan. And thus as they hoved still, they saw\na knight came riding against them. Lo, said Sir Tristram, see where\ncometh a knight riding will just with you. Anon as Sir Dinadan beheld\nhim, he said, That is the same doted knight that I saw lie by the well,\nneither sleeping nor waking. Well, said Sir Tristram, I know that\nknight well with the covered shield of azure, he is the king\u2019s son of\nNorthumberland, his name is Epinegris, and he is as great a lover as I\nknow, and he loveth the king\u2019s daughter of Wales, a full fair lady. And\nnow I suppose, said Sir Tristram, and ye require him he will just with\nyou; and then shall ye prove whether a lover be a better knight or ye\nthat will not love no lady. Well, said Sir Dinadan, now shalt thou see\nwhat I shall do. Therewithal Sir Dinadan spake on high and said, Sir\nknight, make thee ready to just with me, for it is the custom of errant\nknights one to just with other. Sir, said Epinegris, is it the rule of\nyou errant knights for to make a knight to just will he or nill? As for\nthat, said Dinadan, make thee ready, for here is for me. And\ntherewithal they spurred their horses, and met together so hard that\nEpinegris smote down Sir Dinadan. Then Sir Tristram rode to Sir\nDinadan, and said, How now? me seemeth the lover hath well sped. Fie on\nthee coward, said Sir Dinadan, and if thou be a good knight revenge me.\nNay, said Sir Tristram, I will not just as at this time, but take your\nhorse, and let us go hence. Defend me, said Sir Dinadan, from thy\nfellowship, for I never sped well since I met with thee. And so they\ndeparted. Well, said Sir Tristram, peradventure I could tell you\ntidings of Sir Tristram. Defend me, said Dinadan, from thy fellowship,\nfor Sir Tristram were mickle the worse and he were in thy company. And\nthen they departed. Sir, said Sir Tristram, yet it may happen I shall\nmeet with you in other places. So rode Sir Tristram unto Joyous Gard,\nand there he heard in that town great noise and cry. What is this\nnoise, said Sir Tristram. Sir, said they, here is a knight of this\ncastle that hath been long among us, and right now he is slain with two\nknights, and for none other cause but that our knight said that Sir\nLauncelot were a better knight than Sir Gawaine. That was a simple\ncause, said Sir Tristram, for to slay a good knight for to say well by\nhis master. That is little remedy to us, said the men of the town, for\nand Sir Launcelot had been here, soon we should have been revenged upon\nthe false knights. When Sir Tristram heard them say so, he sent for his\nshield and for his spear, and lightly within a little while he had\novertaken them, and bade them turn and amend what they had misdone.\nWhat amends wouldest thou have? said the one knight. And therewith they\ntook their course, and either met other so hard, that Sir Tristram\nsmote down that knight over his horse tail. Then the other knight\ndressed him to Sir Tristram; and in the same wise he served the other\nknight. And then they gat off their horses as well as they might, and\ndressed their shields and swords to do their battle to the utterance.\nKnights, said Sir Tristram, ye shall tell me of whence ye are and what\nbe your names; for such men ye might be ye should hard escape my hands;\nand ye might be such men of such a country that for all your evil deeds\nye should pass quit. Wit thou well, sir knight, said they, we fear us\nnot to tell thee our names, for my name is Sir Agravaine, and my name\nis Gaheris, brethren unto the good knight Sir Gawaine, and we be\nnephews unto king Arthur. Well, said Sir Tristram, for king Arthur\u2019s\nsake I shall let you pass as at this time. But it is shame, said Sir\nTristram, that Sir Gawaine and ye that be come of so great a blood,\nthat ye four brethren are so named as ye be. For ye be called the\ngreatest destroyers and murderers of good knights that be now in this\nrealm; for it is but as I heard say, that Sir Gawaine and ye slew among\nyou a better knight than ever ye were, that was the noble knight Sir\nLamorak de Galis; and it had pleased God, said Sir Tristram, I would I\nhad been by Sir Lamorak at his death. Then shouldest thou have gone the\nsame way, said Sir Gaheris. Fair knight, said Sir Tristram, there must\nhave been many more knights than ye are. And therewithal Sir Tristram\ndeparted from them toward Joyous Gard. And when he was departed they\ntook their horses, and the one said to the other, We will overtake him\nand be revenged upon him in the despite of Sir Lamorak.\n\n\n CHAP. LVI.\n\n_How Sir Tristram smote down Sir Agravaine and Sir Gaheris, and how Sir\n Dinadan was sent for by La Beale Isoud._\n\nSo when they had overtaken Sir Tristram, Sir Agravaine bade him, Turn,\ntraitor knight. That is evil said, said Sir Tristram; and therewith he\npulled out his sword, and smote Sir Agravaine such a buffet upon the\nhelm that he tumbled down off his horse in a swoon, and he had a\ngrievous wound. And then he turned to Gaheris, and Sir Tristram smote\nhis sword and his helm together with such a might that Gaheris fell out\nof his saddle; and so Sir Tristram rode unto Joyous Gard, and there he\nalight and unarmed him. So Sir Tristram told La Beale Isoud of all his\nadventure as ye have heard tofore. And when she heard him tell of Sir\nDinadan, Sir, she said, is not that he that made the song by king Mark?\nThat same is he, said Sir Tristram, for he is the best joker and\njester, and a noble knight of his hands, and the best fellow that I\nknow, and all good knights love his fellowship. Alas, Sir, said she,\nwhy brought ye not him with you? Have ye no care, said Sir Tristram,\nfor he rideth to seek me in this country, and therefore he will not\naway till he have met with me. And there Sir Tristram told La Beale\nIsoud how Sir Dinadan held against all lovers. Right so there came in a\nvarlet and told Sir Tristram how there was come an errant knight into\nthe town with such colours upon his shield. That is Sir Dinadan, said\nSir Tristram. Wit ye what ye shall do? said Sir Tristram; send ye for\nhim, my lady Isoud, and I will not be seen, and ye shall hear the\nmerriest knight that ever ye spake withal, and the maddest talker, and\nI pray you heartily that ye make him good cheer. Then anon La Beale\nIsoud sent into the town, and prayed sir Dinadan that he would come\ninto the castle and repose him there, with a lady. With a good will,\nsaid Sir Dinadan. And so he mounted upon his horse, and rode into the\ncastle, and there he alight, and was unarmed, and brought into the\ncastle. Anon La Beale Isoud came unto him, and either saluted other.\nThen she asked him of whence that he was. Madam, said Dinadan, I am of\nthe court of king Arthur, and knight of the Table Round, and my name is\nSir Dinadan. What do ye in this country? said La Beale Isoud. Madam,\nsaid he, I seek Sir Tristram the good knight, for it was told me that\nhe was in this country. It may well be, said La Beale Isoud, but I am\nnot aware of him. Madam said Dinadan, I marvel of Sir Tristram and more\nother lovers, what aileth them to be so mad and so sotted upon women.\nWhy, said La Beale Isoud, are ye a knight and be no lover? It is shame\nto you: wherefore ye may not be called a good knight but if ye make a\nquarrel for a lady. Nay, said Sir Dinadan, for the joy of love is too\nshort, and the sorrow thereof, and what cometh thereof, dureth over\nlong. Ah, said La Beale Isoud, say ye not so, for here fast by was the\ngood knight Sir Bleoberis, that fought with three knights at once for a\ndamsel\u2019s sake, and he wan her afore the king of Northumberland. It was\nso, said Sir Dinadan, for I know him well for a good knight and a\nnoble, and come of noble blood, for all be noble knights of whom he is\ncome of, that is Sir Launcelot du Lake. Now I pray you, said La Beale\nIsoud, tell me will ye fight for my love with three knights that done\nme great wrong? and in so much as ye be a knight of king Arthur\u2019s I\nrequire you to do battle for me. Then Sir Dinadan said, I shall say you\nbe as fair a lady as ever I saw any, and much fairer than is my lady\nqueen Guenever, but, wit ye well at one word, I will not fight for you\nwith three knights, Heaven defend me. Then Isoud laughed, and had good\ngame at him. So he had all the cheer that she might make him; and there\nhe lay all that night. And on the morn early Sir Tristram armed him,\nand La Beale Isoud gave him a good helm; and then he promised her that\nhe would meet with Sir Dinadan, and they two would ride together unto\nLonazep, where the tournament should be;\u2014and there shall I make ready\nfor you, where ye shall see the tournament. Then departed Sir Tristram\nwith two squires that bare his shield and his spears that were great\nand long.\n\n\n CHAP. LVII.\n\n_How Sir Dinadan met with Sir Tristram, and with justing with Sir\n Palamides Sir Dinadan knew him._\n\nThen after that, Sir Dinadan departed and rode his way a great pace\nuntil he had overtaken Sir Tristram. And when Sir Dinadan had overtaken\nhim, he knew him anon, and he hated the fellowship of him above all\nother knights. Ah, said Sir Dinadan, art thou that coward knight that I\nmet with yesterday, keep thee, for thou shalt just with me, maugre thy\nhead. Well, said Sir Tristram, and I am loth to just. And so they let\ntheir horses run, and Sir Tristram missed of him a purpose, and Sir\nDinadan brake a spear upon Sir Tristram; and therewith Sir Dinadan\ndressed him to draw out his sword. Not so, said Sir Tristram, why are\nye so wroth? I will not fight. Fie on thee, coward, said Sir Dinadan,\nthou shamest all knights. As for that, said Sir Tristram, I care not,\nfor I will wait upon you and be under your protection, for because ye\nare so good a knight ye may save me. The devil deliver me of thee, said\nSir Dinadan, for thou art as goodly a man of arms and of thy person as\never I saw, and the most coward that ever I saw. What wilt thou do with\nthose great spears that thou carriest with thee? I shall give them,\nsaid Sir Tristram, to some good knight when I come to the tournament:\nand if I see you do best I shall give them to you. So thus as they rode\ntalking they saw where came an errant knight afore them, that dressed\nhim to just. Lo, said Sir Tristram, yonder is one will just, now dress\nthee to him. A shame betide thee, said Sir Dinadan. Nay not so, said\nTristram, for that knight beseemeth a shrew. Then shall I, said Sir\nDinadan. And so they dressed their shields and their spears, and they\nmet together so hard that the other knight smote down Sir Dinadan from\nhis horse. Lo, said Sir Tristram, it had been better ye had left. Fie\non thee, coward, said Sir Dinadan. Then Sir Dinadan started up, and gat\nhis sword in his hand, and proffered to do battle on foot. Whether in\nlove or in wrath, said the other knight. Let us do battle in love, said\nSir Dinadan. What is your name? said that knight, I pray you tell me.\nWit ye well my name is Sir Dinadan. Ah Dinadan, said that knight, and\nmy name is Gareth, the youngest brother unto Sir Gawaine. Then either\nmade of other great cheer, for this Gareth was the best knight of all\nthe brethren, and he proved a good knight. Then they took their horses,\nand there they spake of Sir Tristram, how such a coward he was: and\nevery word Sir Tristram heard, and laughed them to scorn. Then were\nthey ware where there came a knight afore them well horsed and well\narmed, and he made him ready to just. Fair knights, said Sir Tristram,\nlook betwixt you who shall just with yonder knight, for I warn you I\nwill not have ado with him. Then shall I, said Sir Gareth: and so they\nencountered together, and there that knight smote down Sir Gareth over\nhis horse croup. How now, said Sir Tristram unto Sir Dinadan, dress\nthee now, and revenge the good knight Gareth. That shall I not, said\nSir Dinadan, for he hath stricken down a much bigger knight than I am.\nAh, said Sir Tristram, now Sir Dinadan I see and feel well your heart\nfaileth you, therefore now shall ye see what I shall do. And then Sir\nTristram hurtled unto that knight, and smote him quite from his horse.\nAnd when Sir Dinadan saw that he marvelled greatly: and then he deemed\nthat it was Sir Tristram. Then this knight that was on foot pulled out\nhis sword to do battle. What is your name? said Sir Tristram. Wit ye\nwell, said the knight, my name is Sir Palamides. What knight hate ye\nmost? said Sir Tristram. Sir knight, said he, I hate Sir Tristram to\nthe death, for and I may meet with him the one of us shall die. Ye say\nwell, said Sir Tristram, and wit ye well that I am Sir Tristram de\nLiones, and now do your worst. When Sir Palamides heard him say so he\nwas astonished, and then he said thus, I pray you, Sir Tristram,\nforgive me all mine evil will, and if I live I shall do you service\nabove all other knights that be living, and there as I have owed you\nevil will me sore repenteth. I wot not what aileth me, for me seemeth\nthat ye are a good knight, and none other knight that named himself a\ngood knight should not hate you; therefore I require you, Sir Tristram,\ntake no displeasure at mine unkind words. Sir Palamides, said Sir\nTristram, ye say well, and well I wot ye are a good knight, for I have\nseen you proved, and many great enterprises have ye taken upon you, and\nwell achieved them; therefore, said Sir Tristram, and ye have any evil\nwill to me, now may ye right it, for I am ready at your hand. Not so,\nmy lord Sir Tristram; I will do you knightly service in all things as\nye will command. And right so I will take you, said Sir Tristram. And\nso they rode forth on their ways, talking of many things. O my lord Sir\nTristram, said Dinadan, foul have ye mocked me, for truly I came into\nthis country for your sake, and by the advice of my lord Sir Launcelot,\nand yet would not Sir Launcelot tell me the certainty of you, where I\nshould find you. Truly, said Sir Tristram, Sir Launcelot wist well\nwhere I was, for I abode within his own castle.\n\n\n CHAP. LVIII.\n\n_How they approached the castle Lonazep, and of other devices of the\n death of Sir Lamorak._\n\nThus they rode until they were ware of the castle Lonazep: and then\nwere they ware of four hundred tents and pavilions, and marvellous\ngreat ordinance. Truly, said Sir Tristram, yonder I see the greatest\nordinance that ever I saw. Sir, said Palamides, me seemeth there was as\ngreat an ordinance at the castle of Maidens upon the rock where ye won\nthe prize, for I saw myself where ye forjusted thirty knights. Sir,\nsaid Dinadan, and in Surluse at that tournament that Sir Galahalt of\nthe Long Isles made, the which there dured seven days, was as great a\ngathering as is here, for there were many nations. Who was the best?\nsaid Sir Tristram. Sir, it was Sir Launcelot du Lake and the noble\nknight Sir Lamorak de Galis. And Sir Launcelot won the degree. I doubt\nnot, said Sir Tristram, but he won the degree, so he had not been\novermatched with many knights. And of the death of Sir Lamorak, said\nSir Tristram, it was over great pity, for I dare say he was the\ncleanest mighted man and the best winded of his age that was on live,\nfor I knew him that he was the biggest knight that ever I met withal,\nbut if it were Sir Launcelot. Alas, said Sir Tristram, full woe is me\nfor his death. And if they were not the cousins of my lord Arthur that\nslew him, they should die for it, and all those that were consenting to\nhis death. And for such things, said Sir Tristram, I fear to draw unto\nthe court of my lord Arthur: I will that ye wit it, said Sir Tristram\nunto Gareth. Sir, I blame you not, said Gareth, for well I understand\nthe vengeance of my brethren Sir Gawaine, Sir Agravaine, Gaheris, and\nMordred. But as for me, said Sir Gareth, I meddle not of their matters,\ntherefore is none of them that loveth me; and for I understand they be\nmurderers of good knights I left their company, and God would I had\nbeen by, said Gareth, when the noble knight Sir Lamorak was slain. Now,\ntruly, said Sir Tristram, it is well said of you, for I had lever than\nall the gold betwixt this and Rome I had been there. Yea, said Sir\nPalamides, and so would I had been there, and yet had I never the\ndegree at no justs nor tournament there as he was, but he put me to the\nworse or on foot or on horseback, and that day that he was slain he did\nthe most deeds of arms that ever I saw knight do in all my life days.\nAnd when him was given the degree by my lord Arthur, Sir Gawaine and\nhis three brethren, Agravaine, Gaheris, and Sir Mordred, set upon Sir\nLamorak in a privy place, and there they slew his horse, and so they\nfought with him on foot more than three hours, both before him and\nbehind him; and Sir Mordred gave him his death\u2019s wound behind him at\nhis back, and all to-hewed him: for one of his squires told me that saw\nit. Fie upon treason, said Sir Tristram, for it killeth my heart to\nhear this tale. So doth it mine, said Gareth; brethren as they be mine\nI shall never love them, nor draw in their fellowship, for that deed.\nNow speak we of other deeds, said Sir Palamides, and let him be, for\nhis life ye may not get again. That is the more pity, said Dinadan, for\nSir Gawaine and his brethren, except you, Sir Gareth, hate all the good\nknights of the Round Table for the most part; for well I wot, and they\nmight privily, they hate my lord Sir Launcelot, and all his kin, and\ngreat privy despite they have at him, and that is my lord Sir Launcelot\nwell ware of, and that causeth him to have the good knights of his kin\nabout him.\n\n\n CHAP. LIX.\n\n_How they came to Humber bank, and how they found a ship there, wherein\n lay the body of king Hermance._\n\nSir, said Palamides, let us leave off this matter, and let us see how\nwe shall do at this tournament. By mine advice, said Palamides, let us\nfour hold together against all that will come. Not by my counsel, said\nSir Tristram, for I see by their pavilions there will be four hundred\nknights, and doubt ye not, said Sir Tristram, but there will be many\ngood knights, and be a man never so valiant nor so big yet he may be\novermatched. And so have I seen knights done many times: and when they\nwend best to have won worship they lost it. For manhood is not worth\nbut if it be meddled with wisdom: and as for me, said Sir Tristram, it\nmay happen I shall keep mine own head as well as another. So thus they\nrode until that they came to Humber bank, where they heard a cry and a\ndoleful noise. Then were they ware in the wind where came a rich vessel\ncovered over with red silk, and the vessel landed fast by them.\nTherewith Sir Tristram alight and his knights. And so Sir Tristram went\nafore and entered into that vessel. And when he came within, he saw a\nfair bed richly covered, and thereupon lay a dead seemly knight, all\narmed, save the head was all be-bled, with deadly wounds upon him: the\nwhich seemed to be a passing good knight. How may this be, said Sir\nTristram, that this knight is thus slain? Then Sir Tristram was ware of\na letter in the dead knight\u2019s hand. Master mariners, said Sir Tristram,\nwhat meaneth that letter? Sir, said they, in that letter ye shall hear\nand know how he was slain, and for what cause, and what was his name;\nbut sir, said the mariners, wit ye well that no man shall take that\nletter and read it but if he be a good knight, and that he will\nfaithfully promise to revenge his death, else shall there no knight see\nthat letter open. Wit ye well, said Sir Tristram, that some of us may\nrevenge his death as well as others, and if it be so as ye mariners\nsay, his death shall be revenged. And therewith Sir Tristram took the\nletter out of the knight\u2019s hand; and it said thus:\u2014Hermance king and\nlord of the Red City, I send unto all knights errant recommending unto\nyou noble knights of Arthur\u2019s court, I beseech them all among them to\nfind one knight that will fight for my sake with two brethren that I\nbrought up of nought, and feloniously and traitorly they have slain me,\nwherefore I beseech one good knight to revenge my death. And he that\nrevengeth my death, I will that he have my Red City and all my castles.\nSir, said the mariners, wit ye well this king and knight that here\nlieth was a full worshipful man, and of full great prowess, and full\nwell he loved all manner of knights errant. Truly, said Sir Tristram,\nhere is a piteous case, and full fain I would take this enterprise upon\nme, but I have made such a promise that needs I must be at this great\ntournament or else I am shamed. For well I wot for my sake in especial\nmy lord Arthur let make this justs and tournament in this country; and\nwell I wot that many worshipful people will be there at that tournament\nfor to see me. Therefore I fear me to take this enterprise upon me,\nthat I shall not come again betimes to this justs. Sir, said Palamides,\nI pray you give me this enterprise, and ye shall see me achieve it\nworshipfully, or else I shall die in this quarrel. Well, said Sir\nTristram, and this enterprise I give you, with this that ye be with me\nat this tournament, that shall be as at this day seven night. Sir, said\nPalamides, I promise you that I shall be with you by that day if I be\nunslain or unmaimed.\n\n\n CHAP. LX.\n\n_How Sir Tristram with his fellowship came and were with an host which\n after fought with Sir Tristram; and other matters._\n\nThen departed Sir Tristram, Gareth, and Sir Dinadan, and left Sir\nPalamides in the vessel; and so Sir Tristram beheld the mariners how\nthey sailed over long Humber. And when Sir Palamides was out of their\nsight, they took their horses, and beheld about them. And then were\nthey ware of a knight that came riding against them unarmed, and\nnothing about him but a sword. And when this knight came nigh them he\nsaluted them, and they him again. Fair knights, said that knight, I\npray you insomuch as ye be knights errant, that ye will come and see my\ncastle, and take such as ye find there; I pray you heartily. And so\nthey rode with him into his castle; and there they were brought into\nthe hall, that was well apparelled, and so they were there unarmed and\nset at a board. And when this knight saw Sir Tristram, anon he knew\nhim; and then this knight waxed pale and wroth at Sir Tristram. When\nSir Tristram saw his host make such cheer, he marvelled and said, Sir,\nmine host, what cheer make you? Wit thou well, said he, I fare the\nworse for thee, for I know thee, Sir Tristram de Liones, thou slewest\nmy brother. And therefore I give thee summons I will slay thee, and\never I may get thee at large. Sir knight, said Sir Tristram, I am never\nadvised that ever I slew any brother of yours; and if ye say that I did\nI will make you amends unto my power. I will none amends, said the\nknight, but keep thee from me. So when he had dined, Sir Tristram asked\nhis arms and departed. And so they rode on their ways; and within a\nlittle while Sir Dinadan saw where came a knight well armed, and well\nhorsed, without shield. Sir Tristram, said Sir Dinadan, take keep to\nyourself, for I undertake yonder cometh your host that will have ado\nwith you. Let him come, said Sir Tristram, I shall abide him as well as\nI may. Anon the knight, when he came nigh Sir Tristram, he cried and\nbade him abide and keep him. So they hurtled together, but Sir Tristram\nsmote the other knight so sore that he bare him over his horse croup.\nThat knight arose lightly and took his horse again, and so rode\nfiercely to Sir Tristram, and smote him twice hard upon the helm. Sir\nknight, said Sir Tristram, I pray you leave off and smite me no more,\nfor I would be loth to deal with you and I might choose, for I have\nyour meat and your drink within my body. For all that he would not\nleave, and then Sir Tristram gave him such a buffet upon the helm, that\nhe fell up so down from his horse, that the blood burst out at the\nventails of his helm, and so he lay still, likely to have been dead.\nThen Sir Tristram said, Me repenteth sore of this buffet that I smote\nso sore, for as I suppose he is dead. And so they left him and rode on\ntheir ways. So they had not ridden but a while, but they saw coming\nagainst them two full likely knights, well armed and well horsed, and\ngoodly servants about them. The one was Berrant le Apres, and he was\ncalled the king with the hundred knights, and the other was Sir\nSegwarides, which were renowned two noble knights. So as they came\neither by other, the king looked upon Sir Dinadan, that at that time\nhad Sir Tristram\u2019s helm upon his shoulder, the which helm the king had\nseen before with the queen of Northgalis, and that queen the king\nloved, and that helm the queen of Northgalis had given unto La Beale\nIsoud, and the queen La Beale Isoud gave it to Sir Tristram. Sir\nknight, said Berrant, where had ye that helm? What would ye? said Sir\nDinadan. For I will have ado with thee, said the king, for the love of\nher that owned that helm, and therefore keep you. So they departed and\ncame together with all the mights of their horses; and there the king\nwith the hundred knights smote Sir Dinadan, horse and all, to the\nearth; and then he commanded his servant, Go and take thou his helm\noff, and keep it. So the varlet went to unbuckle his helm. What helm?\nWhat wilt thou do? said Sir Tristram; leave that helm. To what intent,\nsaid the king, will ye, sir knight, meddle with that helm? Wit you\nwell, said Sir Tristram, that helm shall not depart from me, or it be\ndearer bought. Then make you ready, said Sir Berrant unto Sir Tristram.\nSo they hurtled together, and there Sir Tristram smote him down over\nhis horse tail. And then the king arose lightly, and gat his horse\nlightly again, and then he strake fiercely at Sir Tristram many great\nstrokes. And then Sir Tristram gave Sir Berrant such a buffet upon the\nhelm that he fell down over his horse, sore stunned. Lo, said Sir\nDinadan, that helm is unhappy to us twain, for I had a fall for it, and\nnow, sir king, have ye another fall. Then Segwarides asked, Who shall\njust with me? I pray thee, said Sir Gareth unto Dinadan, let me have\nthis justs. Sir, said Dinadan, I pray you take it as for me. That is no\nreason, said Tristram, for this justs should be yours. At a word, said\nSir Dinadan, I will not thereof. Then Gareth dressed him to Sir\nSegwarides, and there Sir Segwarides smote Sir Gareth and his horse to\nthe earth. Now, said Sir Tristram to Dinadan, just with yonder knight.\nI will not thereof, said Dinadan. Then will I, said Sir Tristram. And\nthen Sir Tristram ran to him and gave him a fall, and so they left them\non foot. And Sir Tristram rode unto Joyous Gard, and there Sir Gareth\nwould not of his courtesy have gone into this castle, but Sir Tristram\nwould not suffer him to depart. And so they alight and unarmed them,\nand had great cheer. But when Dinadan came afore La Beale Isoud, he\ncursed the time that ever he bare Sir Tristram\u2019s helm, and there he\ntold her how Sir Tristram had mocked him. Then was there laughing and\njesting at Sir Dinadan, that they wist not what to do with him.\n\n\n CHAP. LXI.\n\n_How Palamides went for to fight with two brethren for the death of\n king Hermance._\n\nNow will we leave them merry within Joyous Gard, and speak we of Sir\nPalamides. Then Sir Palamides sailed even along Humber to the coasts of\nthe sea, where was a fair castle. And at that time it was early in the\nmorning afore day. Then the mariners went unto Sir Palamides, that\nslept fast. Sir knight, said the mariners, ye must arise, for here is a\ncastle, there ye must go into. I assent me, said Sir Palamides. And\ntherewithal he arrived. And then he blew his horn, that the mariners\nhad given him. And when they within the castle heard that horn, they\nput forth many knights, and there they stood upon the walls, and said\nwith one voice, Welcome be ye to this castle. And then it waxed clear\nday, and Sir Palamides entered into the castle. And within a while he\nwas served with many divers meats. Then Sir Palamides heard about him\nmuch weeping and great dole. What may this mean? said Sir Palamides: I\nlove not to hear such a sorrow, and fain I would know what it meaneth.\nThen there came afore him one whose name was Sir Ebel, that said thus,\nWit ye well, sir knight, this dole and sorrow is here made every day,\nand for this cause: we had a king that hight Hermance, and he was king\nof the Red City, and this king that was lord was a noble knight, large\nand liberal of his expense. And in the world he loved nothing so much\nas he did errant knights of king Arthur\u2019s court, and all justing,\nhunting, and all manner of knightly games; for so kind a king and\nknight had never the rule of poor people as he was; and because of his\ngoodness and gentleness we bemoan him and ever shall. And all kings and\nestates may beware by our lord, for he was destroyed in his own\ndefault, for had he cherished them of his blood he had yet lived with\ngreat riches and rest; but all estates may beware of our king. But\nalas, said Ebel, that we shall give all other warning by his death.\nTell me, said Palamides, in what manner was your lord slain, and by\nwhom? Sir, said Sir Ebel, our king brought up of children two men that\nnow are perilous knights, and these two knights our king had so in\ncharity, that he loved no man nor trusted no man of his blood, nor none\nother that was about him. And by these two knights our king was\ngoverned: and so they ruled him peaceably, and his lands, and never\nwould they suffer none of his blood to have no rule with our king. And\nalso he was so free and so gentle, and they so false and deceivable,\nthat they ruled him peaceably; and that espied the lords of our king\u2019s\nblood, and departed from him unto their own livelihood. Then when these\ntwo traitors understood that they had driven all the lords of his blood\nfrom him, they were not pleased with that rule, but then they thought\nto have more, as ever it is an old saw, Give a churl rule, and thereby\nhe will not be sufficed; for whatsoever he be that is ruled by a\nvillain born, and the lord of the soil to be a gentleman born, the same\nvillain shall destroy all the gentlemen about him; therefore all\nestates and lords beware whom ye take about you. And if ye be a knight\nof king Arthur\u2019s court, remember this tale, for this is the end and\nconclusion. My lord and king rode unto the forest hereby, by the advice\nof these false traitors; and there he chased at the red deer, armed at\nall pieces full like a good knight; and so for labour he waxed dry, and\nthen he alight and drank at a well; and when he was alight, by the\nassent of these two traitors, that one that hight Helius he suddenly\nsmote our king through the body with a spear, and so they left him\nthere. And when they were departed, then by fortune I came to the well,\nand found my lord and king wounded to the death. And when I heard his\ncomplaint, I let bring him to the water side, and in that same ship I\nput him alive; and when my lord king Hermance was in that vessel, he\nrequired me for the true faith I owed unto him for to write a letter in\nthis manner:\u2014\n\n\n CHAP. LXII.\n\n_The copy of the letter written for to revenge the king\u2019s death, and\n how Sir Palamides fought for to have the battle._\n\nRecommending unto king Arthur and to all his knights errant, beseeching\nthem all that insomuch as I king Hermance, king of the Red City, thus\nam slain by felony and treason through two knights of mine own, and of\nmine own bringing up, and of mine own making, that some worshipful\nknight will revenge my death, insomuch I have been ever to my power\nwell willing unto Arthur\u2019s court; and who that will adventure his life\nwith these two traitors for my sake in one battle, I king Hermance,\nking of the Red City, freely give him all my lands and rents that ever\nI held in my life. This letter, said Ebel, I wrote by my lord\u2019s\ncommandment; and then he received his Creator, and when he was dead he\ncommanded me or ever he was cold to put that letter fast in his hand;\nand then he commanded me to put forth that same vessel down Humber, and\nI should give these mariners in commandment never to stint until that\nthey came unto Logris, where all the noble knights shall assemble at\nthis time;\u2014And there shall some good knight have pity on me to revenge\nmy death, for there was never king nor lord falselyer ne traitorlyer\nslain than I am here to my death. Thus was the complaint of our king\nHermance. Now, said Sir Ebel, ye know all how our lord was betrayed, we\nrequire you for God\u2019s sake have pity upon his death, and worshipfully\nrevenge his death, and then may ye hold all these lands. For we all wit\nwell that, and ye may slay these two traitors, the Red City and all\nthose that be therein will take you for their lord. Truly, said Sir\nPalamides, it grieveth my heart for to hear you tell this doleful tale.\nAnd to say the truth, I saw the same letter that ye speak of; and one\nof the best knights on the earth read that letter to me, and by his\ncommandment I came hither to revenge your king\u2019s death; and therefore\nhave done, and let me wit where I shall find those traitors, for I\nshall never be at ease in my heart till that I be in hands with them.\nSir, said Sir Ebel, then take your ship again, and that ship must bring\nyou unto the Delectable Isle, fast by the Red City, and we in this\ncastle shall pray for you and abide your again-coming; for this same\ncastle, and ye speed well, must needs be yours; for our king Hermance\nlet make this castle for the love of the two traitors, and so we kept\nit with strong hand, and therefore full sore are we threated. Wot ye\nwhat ye shall do, said Sir Palamides; whatsoever come of me, look ye\nkeep well this castle. For, and it misfortune me so to be slain in this\nquest, I am sure there will come one of the best knights of the world\nfor to revenge my death, and that is Sir Tristram de Liones, or else\nSir Launcelot du Lake.\n\nThen Sir Palamides departed from that castle. And as he came nigh the\ncity, there came out of a ship a goodly knight armed against him, with\nhis shield on his shoulder, and his hand upon his sword. And anon as he\ncame nigh Sir Palamides he said, Sir knight, what seek ye here? Leave\nthis quest, for it is mine, and mine it was or ever it was yours, and\ntherefore I will have it. Sir knight, said Palamides, it may well be\nthat this quest was yours or it was mine, but when the letter was taken\nout of the dead king\u2019s hand, at that time by likelihood there was no\nknight had undertaken to revenge the death of the king. And so at that\ntime I promised to revenge his death. And so I shall, or else I am\nashamed. Ye say well, said the knight, but wit ye well then will I\nfight with you, and who be the better knight of us both, let him take\nthe battle upon hand. I assent me, said Sir Palamides. And then they\ndressed their shields and pulled out their swords, and lashed together\nmany sad strokes as men of might; and this fighting was more than an\nhour; but at the last Sir Palamides waxed big and better winded, so\nthat then he smote that knight such a stroke that he made him to kneel\nupon his knees. Then that knight spake on high and said, Gentle knight,\nhold thy hand. Sir Palamides was goodly, and withdrew his hand. Then\nthis knight said, Wit ye well, knight, that thou art better worthy to\nhave this battle than I, and I require thee of knighthood tell me thy\nname. Sir, my name is Palamides, a knight of king Arthur, and of the\nTable Round, that hither I came to revenge the death of this dead king.\n\n\n CHAP. LXIII.\n\n_Of the preparation of Sir Palamides and the two brethren that should\n fight with him._\n\nWell be ye found, said the knight to Palamides, for of all knights that\nbe on live, except three, I had levest have you. The first is Sir\nLauncelot du Lake, the second is Sir Tristram de Liones, the third is\nmy nigh cousin Sir Lamorak de Galis. And I am brother unto king\nHermance that is dead, and my name is Sir Hermind. Ye say well, said\nSir Palamides, and ye shall see how I shall speed. And if I be there\nslain go ye to my lord Sir Launcelot, or else to my lord Sir Tristram,\nand pray them to revenge my death, for as for Sir Lamorak, him shall ye\nnever see in this world. Alas, said Sir Hermind, how may that be? He is\nslain, said Sir Palamides, by Sir Gawaine and his brethren. Truly, said\nHermind, there was not one for one that slew him. That is truth, said\nSir Palamides, for they were four dangerous knights that slew him, as\nSir Gawaine, Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, and Sir Mordred; but Sir\nGareth the fifth brother was away, the best knight of them all. And so\nSir Palamides told Hermind all the manner, and how they slew Sir\nLamorak all only by treason. So Sir Palamides took his ship, and\narrived up at the Delectable Isle. And in the meanwhile Sir Hermind,\nthat was the king\u2019s brother, he arrived up at the Red City, and there\nhe told them how there was come a knight of king Arthur\u2019s to avenge\nking Hermance\u2019s death; and his name is Sir Palamides the good knight,\nthat for the most part he followeth the beast Glatisant. Then all the\ncity made great joy. For mickle had they heard of Sir Palamides, and of\nhis noble prowess. So let they ordain a messenger and sent unto the two\nbrethren, and bade them to make them ready, for there was a knight come\nthat would fight with them both. So the messenger went unto them where\nthey were at a castle there beside. And there he told them how there\nwas a knight come of king Arthur\u2019s court to fight with them both at\nonce. He is welcome, said they. But tell us, we pray you, if it be Sir\nLauncelot, or any of his blood. He is none of that blood, said the\nmessenger. Then we care the less, said the two brethren, for with none\nof the blood of Sir Launcelot we keep not to have ado withal. Wit ye\nwell, said the messenger, that his name is Sir Palamides, that yet is\nunchristened, a noble knight. Well, said they, and he be now\nunchristened he shall never be christened. So they appointed to be at\nthe city within two days.\n\nAnd when Sir Palamides was come to the city, they made passing great\njoy of him: and then they beheld him and saw that he was well made,\ncleanly and bigly, and unmaimed of his limbs, and neither too young nor\ntoo old; and so all the people praised him. And though he was not\nchristened, yet he believed in the best manner, and was full faithful\nand true of his promise, and well conditioned. And because he made his\navow that he would never be christened until the time that he had\nachieved the beast Glatisant, which was a wonderful beast, and a great\nsignification, for Merlin prophesied much of that beast. And also Sir\nPalamides avowed never to take full christendom unto the time that he\nhad done seven battles within the lists. So within the third day there\ncame to the city these two brethren, the one hight Helius, the other\nhight Helake, the which were men of great prowess, howbeit that they\nwere false and full of treason, and but poor men born, yet were they\nnoble knights of their hands. And with them they brought forty knights\nto that intent that they should be big enough for the Red City. Thus\ncame the two brethren with great boasting and pride, for they had put\nthe Red City in fear and damage. Then they were brought to the lists.\nAnd Sir Palamides came into the place, and said thus: Be ye the two\nbrethren, Helius and Helake, that slew your king and lord, Sir\nHermance, by felony and treason, for whom that I am come hither to\nrevenge his death? Wit thou well, said Sir Helius and Sir Helake, that\nwe are the same knights that slew king Hermance. And wit thou well Sir\nPalamides, Saracen, that we shall handle thee so or thou depart that\nthou shalt wish that thou werest christened. It may well be, said Sir\nPalamides, for yet I would not die or I were christened, and yet so am\nI not afeard of you both, but I trust to God that I shall die a better\nchristian man than any of you both; and doubt ye not, said Sir\nPalamides, either ye or I shall be left dead in this place.\n\n\n CHAP. LXIV.\n\n_Of the battle between Sir Palamides and the two brethren, and how the\n two brethren were slain._\n\nThen they departed, and the two brethren came against Sir Palamides,\nand he against them, as fast as their horses might run. And by fortune\nSir Palamides smote Helake through his shield, and through the breast\nmore than a fathom. All this while Sir Helius held up his spear, and\nfor pride and presumption he would not smite Sir Palamides with his\nspear. But when he saw his brother lie on the earth, and saw he might\nnot help himself, then he said unto Sir Palamides, Help thyself: and\ntherewith he came hurtling unto Sir Palamides with his spear, and smote\nhim quite from his saddle. Then Sir Helius rode over Sir Palamides\ntwice or thrice. And therewith Sir Palamides was ashamed, and gat the\nhorse of Sir Helius by the bridle, and therewithal the horse areared,\nand Sir Palamides halp after, and so they fell both to the earth, but\nanon Sir Helius start up lightly, and there he smote Sir Palamides a\nmighty stroke upon the helm, so that he kneeled upon his own knee. Then\nthey lashed together many sad strokes, and traced and traversed, now\nbackward, now sideling, hurtling together like two boars, and that same\ntime they fell both groveling to the earth. Thus they fought still\nwithout any reposing two hours, and never breathed, and then Sir\nPalamides waxed faint and weary, and Sir Helius waxed passing strong,\nand doubled his strokes, and drove Sir Palamides overthwart and endlong\nall the field, that they of the city, when they saw Sir Palamides in\nthis case, they wept, and cried, and made great dole, and the other\nparty made as great joy. Alas, said the men of the city, that this\nnoble knight should thus be slain for our king\u2019s sake. And as they were\nthus weeping and crying, Sir Palamides that had suffered an hundred\nstrokes, that it was wonder that he stood upon his feet, at the last,\nSir Palamides beheld as he might the common people how they wept for\nhim, and then he said to himself, Ah, fie for shame, Sir Palamides, why\nhangest thou thy head so low? And therewith he bear up his shield, and\nlooked Sir Helius in the visage, and he smote him a great stroke upon\nthe helm, and after that another and another. And then he smote Sir\nHelius with such a might that he fell to the earth groveling, and then\nhe rased off his helm from his head, and there he smote him such a\nbuffet that he departed his head from the body. And then were the\npeople of the city the joyfullest people that might be. So they brought\nhim to his lodging with great solemnity, and there all the people\nbecame his men. And then Sir Palamides prayed them all to take keep\nunto all the lordship of king Hermance;\u2014For, fair sirs, wit ye well, I\nmay not as at this time abide with you, for I must in all haste be with\nmy lord king Arthur at the castle of Lonazep, the which I have promised.\n\nThen were the people full heavy at his departing. For all that city\nproffered Sir Palamides the third part of their goods so that he would\nabide with them: but in no wise as at that time he would not abide. And\nso Sir Palamides departed. And so he came unto the castle, there as Sir\nEbel was lieutenant. And when they in the castle wist how Sir Palamides\nhad sped there was a joyful company. And so Sir Palamides departed, and\ncame to the castle of Lonazep. And when he wist that Sir Tristram was\nnot there, he took his way over Humber, and came unto Joyous Gard where\nas Sir Tristram was, and La Beale Isoud. Sir Tristram had commanded\nthat what knight errant came within the Joyous Gard, as in the town,\nthat they should warn Sir Tristram. So there came a man of the town,\nand told Sir Tristram how there was a knight in the town a passing\ngoodly man. What manner of man is he? said Sir Tristram, and what sign\nbeareth he? So the man told Sir Tristram all the tokens of him. That is\nPalamides, said Dinadan. It may well be, said Sir Tristram: go ye to\nhim, said Sir Tristram unto Dinadan. So Dinadan went unto Sir\nPalamides, and there either made of other great joy, and so they lay\ntogether that night, and on the morn early came Sir Tristram and Sir\nGareth, and took them in their beds, and so they arose and brake their\nfast.\n\n\n CHAP. LXV.\n\n_How Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides met Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9, and how Sir\n Tristram and La Beale Isoud went unto Lonazep._\n\nAnd then Sir Tristram desired Sir Palamides to ride into the fields and\nwoods; so they were accorded to repose them in the forest. And when\nthey had played them a great while, they rode unto a fair well, and\nanon they were ware of an armed knight that came riding against them,\nand there either saluted other. Then this armed knight spake to Sir\nTristram, and asked what were those knights that were lodged in Joyous\nGard. I wot not what they are, said Sir Tristram. What knights be ye,\nsaid that knight, for me seemeth that ye be no knights errant, because\nye ride unarmed? Whether we be knights or not, we list not to tell thee\nour name. Wilt thou not tell me thy name, said that knight, then keep\nthee, for thou shalt die of my hands. And therewith he gat his spear in\nhis hands, and would have run Sir Tristram through. That saw Sir\nPalamides, and smote his horse traverse in midst of the side, that man\nand horse fell to the earth. And therewith Sir Palamides alight, and\npulled out his sword to have slain him. Let be, said Sir Tristram, slay\nhim not, the knight is but a fool, it were shame to slay him. But take\naway his spear, said Sir Tristram, and let him take his horse and go\nwhere that he will. So when this knight arose he groaned sore of the\nfall, and so he took his horse, and when he was up, he turned then his\nhorse, and required Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides to tell him what\nknights they were. Now wit ye well, said Sir Tristram, that my name is\nSir Tristram de Liones, and this knight\u2019s name is Sir Palamides. When\nhe wist what they were, he took his horse with the spurs because they\nshould not ask him his name, and so rode fast away through thick and\nthin. Then came there by them a knight with a bended shield of azure,\nwhose name was Epinogris, and he came toward them a great wallop.\nWhither are ye riding? said Sir Tristram. My fair lords, said\nEpinogris, I follow the falsest knight that beareth the life, wherefore\nI require tell me whether ye saw him, for he beareth a shield with a\ncase of red over it. Truly, said Tristram, such a knight departed from\nus not a quarter of an hour ago; we pray you tell us his name. Alas,\nsaid Epinogris, why let ye him escape from you, and he is so great a\nfoe unto all errant knights: his name is Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9. Ah fie for\nshame, said Sir Palamides, alas that ever he escaped my hands, for he\nis the man in the world that I hate most. Then every knight made great\nsorrow to other, and so Epinogris departed, and followed the chase\nafter him. Then Sir Tristram and his three fellows rode unto Joyous\nGard, and there Sir Tristram talked unto Sir Palamides of his battle,\nhow he sped at the Red City; and as ye have heard afore, so was it\nended. Truly, said Sir Tristram, I am glad ye have well sped, for ye\nhave done worshipfully. Well, said Sir Tristram, we must forward\nto-morn. And then he devised how it should be, and Sir Tristram devised\nto send his two pavilions to set them fast by the well of Lonazep,\u2014and\ntherein shall be the queen La Beale Isoud. It is well said, said Sir\nDinadan. But when Sir Palamides heard of that, his heart was ravished\nout of measure: notwithstanding he said but little. So when they came\nto Joyous Gard, Sir Palamides would not have gone into the castle, but\nas Sir Tristram took him by the finger, and led him into the castle.\nAnd when Sir Palamides saw La Beale Isoud, he was so ravished so that\nhe might scarcely speak. So they went unto meat, but Palamides might\nnot eat, and there was all the cheer that might be had. And on the morn\nthey were apparelled to ride towards Lonazep.\n\nSo Sir Tristram had three squires, and La Beale Isoud had three\ngentlewomen, and both the queen and they were richly apparelled; and\nother people had they none with them, but varlets to bear their shields\nand their spears. And thus they rode forth. So as they rode they saw\nafore them a rout of knights: it was the knight Galihodin with twenty\nknights with him. Fair fellows, said Galihodin, yonder come four\nknights, and a rich and a well fair lady: I am in will to take that\nlady from them. That is not of the best counsel, said one of\nGalihodin\u2019s men, but send ye to them and wit what they will say. And so\nit was done. There came a squire to Sir Tristram and asked him whether\nthey would just, or else to lose their lady? Not so, said Sir Tristram,\ntell your lord, I bid him come as many as we be, and win her and take\nher. Sir, said Palamides, and it please you, let me have this deed, and\nI shall undertake them all four. I will that ye have it, said Sir\nTristram, at your pleasure. Now go and tell your lord Galihodin, that\nthis same knight will encounter with him and his fellows.\n\n\n CHAP. LXVI.\n\n_How Sir Palamides justed with Sir Galihodin and after with Sir\n Gawaine, and smote them down._\n\nThen this squire departed and told Galihodin, and then he dressed his\nshield, and put forth a spear, and Sir Palamides another, and there Sir\nPalamides smote Galihodin so hard that he smote both horse and man to\nthe earth. And there he had an horrible fall. And then came there\nanother knight, and in the same wise he served him, and so he served\nthe third and the fourth, that he smote them over their horse croups:\nand always Sir Palamides\u2019 spear was whole. Then came six knights more\nof Galihodin\u2019s men, and would have been avenged upon Sir Palamides. Let\nbe, said Sir Galihodin, not so hardy! None of you all meddle with this\nknight, for he is a man of great bounty and honour; and if he would, ye\nwere not able to meddle with him. And right so they held them still.\nAnd ever Sir Palamides was ready to just. And when he saw they would no\nmore, he rode unto Sir Tristram. Right well have ye done, said Sir\nTristram, and worshipfully have ye done as a good knight should. This\nGalihodin was nigh cousin unto Galahalt the haut prince. And this\nGalihodin was a king within the country of Surluse. So as Sir Tristram,\nSir Palamides, and La Beale Isoud rode together, they saw afore them\nfour knights, and every man had his spear in his hand. The first was\nSir Gawaine, the second Sir Uwaine, the third Sir Sagramor le Desirous,\nand the fourth was Dodinas le Savage. When Sir Palamides beheld them,\nthat the four knights were ready to just, he prayed Sir Tristram to\ngive him leave to have ado with them all so long as he might hold him\non horseback:\u2014And if that I be smitten down, I pray you revenge me.\nWell, said Sir Tristram, I will as ye will, and ye are not so fain to\nhave worship, but I would as fain increase your worship. And there\nwithal Sir Gawaine put forth his spear, and Sir Palamides another, and\nso they came so eagerly together that Sir Palamides smote Sir Gawaine\nto the earth, horse and all; and in the same wise he served Uwaine, Sir\nDodinas, and Sagramor. All these four knights Sir Palamides smote down\nwith divers spears. And then Sir Tristram departed toward Lonazep. And\nwhen they were departed, then came thither Galihodin with his ten\nknights unto Sir Gawaine, and there he told him all how he had sped. I\nmarvel, said Sir Gawaine, what knights they be that are so arrayed in\ngreen. And that knight upon the white horse smote me down, said\nGalihodin, and my three fellows. And so he did to me, said Gawaine, and\nwell I wot, said Sir Gawaine, that either he upon the white horse is\nSir Tristram, or else Sir Palamides, and that gaybeseen lady is queen\nIsoud. Thus they talked of one thing and of other. And in the mean\nwhile Sir Tristram passed on, till that he came to the well where his\ntwo pavilions were set, and there they alighted, and there they saw\nmany pavilions and great array. Then Sir Tristram left there Sir\nPalamides and Sir Gareth with La Beale Isoud; and Sir Tristram and Sir\nDinadan rode to Lonazep to hearken tidings; and Sir Tristram rode upon\nSir Palamides\u2019 white horse. And when he came into the castle, Sir\nDinadan heard a great horn blow, and to the horn drew many knights.\nThen Sir Tristram asked a knight, What meaneth the blast of that horn?\nSir, said that knight, it is all those that shall hold against king\nArthur at this tournament. The first is the king of Ireland, and the\nking of Surluse, the king of Listinoise, the king of Northumberland,\nand the king of the best part of Wales, with many other countries: and\nthese draw them to a council, to understand what governance they shall\nbe of. But the king of Ireland, whose name was Marhalt, and father to\nthe good knight Sir Marhaus that Sir Tristram slew, had all the speech,\nthat Sir Tristram might hear it. He said: Lords and fellows, let us\nlook to ourselves, for wit ye well king Arthur is sure of many good\nknights, or else he would not with so few knights have ado with us;\ntherefore, by my counsel, let every king have a standard and a\ncognizance by himself, that every knight draw to his natural lord, and\nthen may every king and captain help his knights, if they have need.\nWhen Sir Tristram had heard all their counsel, he rode unto king Arthur\nfor to hear of his counsel.\n\n\n CHAP. LXVII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram and his fellowship came unto the tournament of\n Lonazep; and of divers justs and matters._\n\nBut Sir Tristram was not so soon come into the place, but Sir Gawaine\nand Sir Galihodin went to king Arthur, and told him, That same green\nknight in the green harness, with the white horse, smote us two down,\nand six of our fellows, this same day. Well, said Arthur; and then he\ncalled Sir Tristram, and asked him what was his name. Sir, said Sir\nTristram, ye shall hold me excused as at this time, for ye shall not\nwit my name. And there Sir Tristram returned and rode his way. I have\nmarvel, said Arthur, that yonder knight will not tell me his name, but\ngo thou, Griflet le Fise de Dieu, and pray him to speak with me betwixt\nus. Then Sir Griflet rode after him, and overtook him, and said to him\nthat king Arthur prayed him for to speak with him secretly apart. Upon\nthis covenant, said Sir Tristram, I will speak with him that I will\nturn again, so that ye will ensure me not to desire to hear my name. I\nshall undertake, said Sir Griflet, that he will not greatly desire it\nof you. So they rode together until they came to king Arthur. Fair sir,\nsaid king Arthur, what is the cause ye will not tell me your name? Sir,\nsaid Sir Tristram, without a cause I will not hide my name. Upon what\nparty will ye hold? said king Arthur. Truly, my lord, said Sir\nTristram, I wot not yet on what party I will be on until I come to the\nfield; and there as my heart giveth me there will I hold: but to-morrow\nye shall see and prove on what party I shall come. And therewithal he\nreturned and went to his pavilions. And upon the morn they armed them\nall in green, and came into the field; and there young knights began to\njust, and did many worshipful deeds. Then spake Gareth unto Sir\nTristram, and prayed him to give him leave to break his spear, for him\nthought shame to bear his spear whole again. When Sir Tristram heard\nhim say so he laughed, and said, I pray you, do your best. Then Sir\nGareth gat a spear, and proffered to just. That saw a nephew unto the\nking of the hundred knights, his name was Selises, and a good man of\narms. So this knight Selises then dressed him unto Sir Gareth, and they\ntwo met together so hard that either smote other down, horse and all,\nto the earth; so they were both bruised and hurt, and there they lay\ntill the king with the hundred knights halp Selises up; and Sir\nTristram and Sir Palamides halp up Gareth again; and so they rode with\nSir Gareth unto their pavilions, and then they pulled off his helm. And\nwhen La Beale Isoud saw Sir Gareth bruised in the face, she asked him\nwhat ailed him. Madam, said Sir Gareth, I had a great buffet, and, as I\nsuppose, I gave another, but none of my fellows would not rescue me.\nForsooth, said Palamides, it longed not to none of us as this day to\njust, for there have not this day justed no proved knights; and needs\nye would just, and when the other party saw ye proferred yourself to\njust, they sent one to you, a passing good knight of his age, for I\nknow him well, his name is Selises, and worshipfully ye met with him,\nand neither of you are dishonoured; and therefore refresh yourself,\nthat ye may be ready and whole to just to-morrow. As for that, said Sir\nGareth, I shall not fail you, and I may bestride my horse.\n\n\n CHAP. LXVIII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram and his fellowship justed, and of the noble feats\n that they did in that tourneying._\n\nNow upon what party, said Sir Tristram, is it best we be withal as\nto-morn? Sir, said Palamides, ye shall have mine advice to be against\nking Arthur as to-morn, for on his party will be Sir Launcelot, and\nmany good knights of his blood with him. And the more men of worship\nthat they be, the more worship we shall win. That is full knightly\nspoken, said Sir Tristram, and right so as ye counsel me, so will we\ndo. So be it, said they all. So that night they were lodged with the\nbest. And on the morn when it was day, they were arrayed in green\ntrappings, shields, and spears; and La Beale Isoud in the same colour,\nand her three damsels. And right so these four knights came into the\nfield endlong and through. And so they led La Beale Isoud thither as\nshe should stand and behold all the justs in a bay window; but always\nshe wimpled that no man might see her visage. And then these three\nknights rode straight unto the party of the king of Scots.\n\nWhen king Arthur had seen them do all this, he asked Sir Launcelot what\nwere these knights and that queen? Sir, said Sir Launcelot, I cannot\nsay you in certain, but if Sir Tristram be in this country, or Sir\nPalamides, wit ye well it be they in certain, and La Beale Isoud. Then\nArthur called to him Sir Kay, and said, Go lightly and wit how many\nknights there be here lacking of the Table Round, for by the sieges\nthou mayest know. So went Sir Kay, and saw by the writing in the sieges\nthat there lacked ten knights,\u2014And these be their names that be not\nhere, Sir Tristram, Sir Palamides, Sir Percivale, Sir Gaheris, Sir\nEpinogris, Sir Mordred, Sir Dinadan, Sir La Cote Male Taile, and Sir\nPelleas the noble knight. Well, said Arthur, some of these I dare\nundertake are here this day against us. Then came therein two brethren,\ncousins unto Sir Gawaine, the one hight Sir Edward, that other hight\nSir Sadok, the which were two good knights, and they asked of king\nArthur that they might have the first justs, for they were of Orkney. I\nam pleased, said king Arthur. Then Sir Edward encountered with the king\nof Scots, in whose party was Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides; and Sir\nEdward smote the king of Scots quite from his horse; and Sir Sadok\nsmote down the king of North Wales, and gave him a wonder great fall,\nthat there was a great cry on king Arthur\u2019s party, and that made Sir\nPalamides passing wroth; and so Sir Palamides dressed his shield and\nhis spear, and with all his might he met with Sir Edward of Orkney,\nthat he smote him so hard that his horse might not stand on his feet,\nand so they hurtled to the earth: and then with the same spear Sir\nPalamides smote down Sir Sadok over his horse croup. Oh, said Arthur,\nwhat knight is that arrayed all in green? he justeth mightily. Wit you\nwell, said Sir Gawaine, he is a good knight, and yet shall ye see him\njust better or he depart; and yet shall ye see, said Sir Gawaine,\nanother bigger knight in the same colour than he is, for that same\nknight, said Sir Gawaine, that smote down right now my two cousins, he\nsmote me down within these two days, and seven fellows more. This\nmeanwhile, as they stood thus talking, there came into the place Sir\nTristram upon a black horse, and or ever he stint he smote down with\none spear four good knights of Orkney, that were of the kin of Sir\nGawaine; and Sir Gareth and Sir Dinadan every each of them smote down a\ngood knight. Truly, said Arthur, yonder knight upon the black horse\ndoth mightily and marvellously well. Abide you, said Sir Gawaine; that\nknight with the black horse began not yet. Then Sir Tristram made to\nhorse again the two kings that Edward and Sadok had unhorsed at the\nbeginning. And then Sir Tristram drew his sword, and rode into the\nthickest of the press against them of Orkney, and there he smote down\nknights, and rashed off helms, and pulled away their shields, and\nhurtled down many knights: he fared so that Sir Arthur and all knights\nhad great marvel, when they saw one knight do so great deeds of arms.\nAnd Sir Palamides failed not upon the other side, but did so\nmarvellously well that all men had wonder. For there king Arthur\nlikened Sir Tristram, that was on the black horse, like to a wood lion,\nand likened Sir Palamides, upon the white horse, unto a wood libbard,\nand Sir Gareth and Sir Dinadan unto eager wolves. But the custom was\nsuch among them, that none of the kings would help other, but all the\nfellowship of every standard to help other as they might. But ever Sir\nTristram did so much deeds of arms that they of Orkney waxed weary of\nhim, and so withdrew them unto Lonazep.\n\n\n CHAP. LXIX.\n\n_How Sir Tristram was unhorsed and smitten down by Sir Launcelot, and\n after that Sir Tristram smote down king Arthur._\n\nThen was the cry of heralds and all manner of common people, The green\nknight hath done marvellously, and beaten all them of Orkney. And there\nthe heralds numbered that Sir Tristram, that sat upon the black horse,\nhad smitten down twenty knights; and Sir Palamides had smitten down\ntwenty knights; and the most part of these fifty knights were of the\nhouse of king Arthur, and proved knights. Truly, said Arthur unto Sir\nLauncelot, this is a great shame to us to see four knights beat so many\nknights of mine; and therefore make you ready, for we will have ado\nwith them. Sir, said Sir Launcelot, wit ye well that there are two\npassing good knights, and great worship were it not to us now to have\nado with them, for they have this day sore travailed. As for that, said\nArthur, I will be avenged, and therefore take with you Sir Bleoberis\nand Sir Ector, and I will be the fourth, said Arthur. Sir, said\nLauncelot, ye shall find me ready, and my brother Sir Ector, and my\ncousin Sir Bleoberis. And so when they were ready and on horseback, Now\nchoose, said Sir Arthur unto Sir Launcelot, with whom that ye will\nencounter withal. Sir, said Launcelot, I will meet with the green\nknight upon the black horse (that was Sir Tristram), and my cousin Sir\nBleoberis shall match the green knight upon the white horse (that was\nSir Palamides), and my brother Sir Ector shall match with the green\nknight upon the white horse (that was Sir Gareth). Then must I, said\nSir Arthur, have ado with the green knight upon the grisled horse (and\nthat was Sir Dinadan). Now every man take heed to his fellow, said Sir\nLauncelot. And so they trotted on together; and there encountered Sir\nLauncelot against Sir Tristram. So Sir Launcelot smote Sir Tristram so\nsore upon the shield that he bare horse and man to the earth: but Sir\nLauncelot wend it had been Sir Palamides, and so he passed forth. And\nthen Sir Bleoberis encountered with Sir Palamides, and he smote him so\nhard upon the shield that Sir Palamides and his white horse rustled to\nthe earth. Then Sir Ector de Maris smote Sir Gareth so hard that down\nhe fell off his horse. And the noble king Arthur encountered with Sir\nDinadan, and he smote him quite from his saddle. And then the noise\nturned awhile how the green knights were slain down. When the king of\nNorthgalis saw that Sir Tristram had a fall, then he remembered him how\ngreat deeds of arms Sir Tristram had done. Then he made ready many\nknights, for the custom and cry was such, that what knight were smitten\ndown, and might not be horsed again by his fellows, or by his own\nstrength, that as that day he should be prisoner unto the party that\nhad smitten him down. So came in the king of Northgalis, and he rode\nstraight unto Sir Tristram. And when he came nigh him he alight down\nsuddenly, and betook Sir Tristram his horse, and said thus: Noble\nknight, I know thee not of what country thou art, but for the noble\ndeeds that thou hast done this day take there my horse, and let me do\nas well as I may; for truly thou art better worthy to have mine horse\nthan I myself. Gramercy, said Sir Tristram, and if I may I shall\nrequite you. Look that ye go not far from us, and, as I suppose, I\nshall win you another horse. And therewith Sir Tristram mounted upon\nhis horse, and there he met with king Arthur, and he gave him such a\nbuffet upon the helm with his sword that king Arthur had no power to\nkeep his saddle. And then Sir Tristram gave the king of Northgalis king\nArthur\u2019s horse. Then was there great press about king Arthur for to\nhorse him again. But Sir Palamides would not suffer king Arthur to be\nhorsed again: but ever Sir Palamides smote on the right hand and on the\nleft hand mightily as a noble knight. And this mean while Sir Tristram\nrode through the thickest of the press, and smote down knights on the\nright and on the left hand, and rased off helms, and so passed forth\nunto his pavilions, and left Sir Palamides on foot. And Sir Tristram\nchanged his horse, and disguised himself all in red, horse and harness.\n\n\n CHAP. LXX.\n\n_How Sir Tristram changed his harness and it was all red, and how he\n demeaned him, and how Sir Palamides slew Launcelot\u2019s horse._\n\nAnd when the queen La Beale Isoud saw that Sir Tristram was unhorsed,\nand she wist not where he was, then she wept greatly. But Sir Tristram,\nwhen he was ready, came dashing lightly into the field, and then La\nBeale Isoud espied him. And so he did great deeds of arms, with one\nspear that was great Sir Tristram smote down five knights or ever he\nstint. Then Sir Launcelot espied him readily that it was Sir Tristram,\nand then he repented him that he had smitten him down. And so Sir\nLauncelot went out of the press to repose him, and lightly he came\nagain. And now when Sir Tristram came unto the press, through his great\nforce he put Sir Palamides upon his horse, and Sir Gareth, and Sir\nDinadan, and then they began to do marvellously. But Sir Palamides nor\nnone of his two fellows knew not who had holpen them on horseback\nagain. But ever Sir Tristram was nigh them and succoured them, and they\nnot him, because he was changed into red armour. And all this while Sir\nLauncelot was away. So when La Beale Isoud knew Sir Tristram again upon\nhis horse back she was passing glad, and then she laughed and made good\ncheer. And as it happened Sir Palamides looked up toward her, where she\nlay in the window, and he espied how she laughed: and therewith he took\nsuch a rejoicing that he smote down, what with his spear and with his\nsword, all that ever he met; for through the sight of her he was so\nenamoured in her love, that he seemed at that time that, and both Sir\nTristram and Sir Launcelot had been both against him, they should have\nwon no worship of him. And in his heart, as the book saith, Sir\nPalamides wished that with his worship he might have ado with Sir\nTristram before all men because of La Beale Isoud. Then Sir Palamides\nbegan to double his strength, and he did so marvellously that all men\nhad wonder of him. And ever he cast up his eye unto La Beale Isoud, and\nwhen he saw her make such cheer he fared like a lion, that there might\nno man withstand him. And then Sir Tristram beheld him how that Sir\nPalamides bestirred him, and then he said unto Sir Dinadan, Truly, Sir\nPalamides is a passing good knight, and a well enduring: but such deeds\nsaw I him never do, nor never heard I tell that ever he did so much in\none day. It is his day, said Sir Dinadan: and he would say no more unto\nSir Tristram; but to himself he said, And if ye knew for whose love he\ndoth all these deeds of arms, soon would Sir Tristram abate his\ncourage. Alas, said Sir Tristram, that Sir Palamides is not christened.\nSo said king Arthur, and so said all those that beheld him. Then all\npeople gave him the prize as for the best knight that day, that he\npassed Sir Launcelot or Sir Tristram. Well, said Dinadan to himself,\nall this worship that Sir Palamides hath here this day, he may thank\nthe queen Isoud; for had she been away this day, Sir Palamides had not\ngotten the prize this day.\n\nRight so came into the field Sir Launcelot du Lake, and saw and heard\nthe noise and cry and the great worship that Sir Palamides had. He\ndressed him against Sir Palamides with a great mighty spear, and a\nlong, and thought to smite him down. And when Sir Palamides saw Sir\nLauncelot come upon him so fast, he ran upon Sir Launcelot as fast with\nhis sword as he might. And as Sir Launcelot should have stricken him he\nsmote his spear on side, and smote it atwo with his sword. And Sir\nPalamides rashed unto Sir Launcelot and thought to have put him to a\nshame, and with his sword he smote his horse\u2019s neck that Sir Launcelot\nrode upon, and then Sir Launcelot fell to the earth. Then was the cry\nhuge and great;\u2014See how Sir Palamides the Saracen hath smitten down\nSir Launcelot\u2019s horse. Right then were there many knights wroth with\nSir Palamides, because he had done that deed. Therefore many knights\nheld there against that it was unknightly done in a tournament to kill\na horse wilfully, but that it had been done in plain battle, life for\nlife.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXI.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot said to Sir Palamides, and how the prize of that day\n was given unto Sir Palamides._\n\nWhen Sir Ector de Maris saw Sir Launcelot his brother have such a\ndespite, and so set on foot, then he gat a spear eagerly and ran\nagainst Sir Palamides, and he smote him so hard that he bare him quite\nfrom his horse. That saw Sir Tristram that was in red harness, and he\nsmote down Sir Ector de Maris quite from his horse. Then Sir Launcelot\ndressed his shield upon his shoulder, and with his sword naked in his\nhand, and so came straight upon Sir Palamides fiercely, and said, Wit\nthou well, thou hast done me this day the greatest despite that ever\nany worshipful knight did to me in tournament or in justs, and\ntherefore I will be avenged upon thee, therefore take keep to yourself.\nAh mercy, noble knight, said Palamides, and forgive me mine unkindly\ndeeds, for I have no power nor might to withstand you. And I have done\nso much this day, that well I wot I did never so much nor never shall\nin my life days. And therefore, most noble knight, I require thee spare\nme as at this day, and I promise you I shall ever be your knight while\nI live. And ye put me from my worship now, ye put me from the greatest\nworship that ever I had, or ever shall have, in my life days. Well,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, I see, for to say the sooth, ye have done\nmarvellously well this day, and I understand a part for whose love ye\ndo it, and well I wot that love is a great mistress. And if my lady\nwere here as she is not, wit you well that ye should not bear away the\nworship. But beware your love be not discovered; for and Sir Tristram\nmay know it ye will repent it. And since my quarrel is not here, ye\nshall have this day the worship as for me; considering the great\ntravail and pain that ye have had this day, it were no worship for me\nto put you from it. And therewithal Sir Launcelot suffered Sir\nPalamides to depart. Then Sir Launcelot by great force and might gat\nhis own horse, maugre twenty knights. So when Sir Launcelot was horsed\nhe did many marvels, and so did Sir Tristram, and Sir Palamides in\nlikewise. Then Sir Launcelot smote down with a spear Sir Dinadan, and\nthe king of Scotland, and the king of Wales, and the king of\nNorthumberland, and the king of Listinoise. So then Sir Launcelot and\nhis fellows smote down well a forty knights. Then came the king of\nIreland and the king of the Straight Marches to rescue Sir Tristram and\nSir Palamides. There began a great meddle, and many knights there were\nsmitten down on both parties, and always Sir Launcelot spared Sir\nTristram, and he spared him. And Sir Palamides would not meddle with\nSir Launcelot. And so there was hurtling here and there. And then king\nArthur sent out many knights of the Table Round. And Sir Palamides was\never in the foremost front. And Sir Tristram did so strongly well that\nthe king and all other had marvel. And then the king let blow to\nlodging. And because Sir Palamides began first, and never he went nor\nrode out of the field to repose, but ever he was doing marvellously\nwell, either on foot or on horseback, and longest enduring, king Arthur\nand all the kings gave Sir Palamides the honour and the gree as for\nthat day. Then Sir Tristram commanded Sir Dinadan to fetch the queen La\nBeale Isoud, and bring her to his two pavilions that stood by the well.\nAnd so Dinadan did as he was commanded. But when Sir Palamides\nunderstood and wist that Sir Tristram was in the red armour, and on the\nred horse, wit ye well that he was glad, and so was Sir Gareth, and Sir\nDinadan. For they all wend that Sir Tristram had been taken prisoner.\n\nAnd then every knight drew to his inn. And then king Arthur and every\nknight spake of those knights. But above all men they gave Sir\nPalamides the prize, and all knights that knew Sir Palamides had wonder\nof his deeds. Sir, said Sir Launcelot unto Arthur, as for Sir\nPalamides, and he be the green knight, I dare say as for this day he is\nbest worthy to have the degree, for he reposed him never, ne never\nchanged his weeds. And he began first and longest held on. And yet well\nI wot, said Sir Launcelot, that there was a better knight than he, and\nthat shall be proved or we depart, upon pain of my life. Thus they\ntalked on either party, and so Sir Dinadan railed with Sir Tristram and\nsaid, What the devil is upon thee this day, for Sir Palamides\u2019 strength\nfeebled never this day, but ever he doubled his strength.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXII.\n\n_How Sir Dinadan provoked Sir Tristram to do well._\n\nAnd thou Sir Tristram faredst all this day as though thou hadst been\nasleep, and therefore I call thee coward. Well, Dinadan, said Sir\nTristram, I was never called coward or now, of none earthly knight, in\nmy life: and, wit thou well, sir, I call myself never the more coward\nthough Sir Launcelot gave me a fall, for I outcept him of all knights.\nAnd doubt ye not, Sir Dinadan, and Sir Launcelot have a quarrel good,\nhe is too over good for any knight that now is living; and yet of his\nsufferance, largesse, bounty, and courtesy, I call him knight peerless.\nAnd so Sir Tristram was in manner wroth with Sir Dinadan. But all this\nlanguage Sir Dinadan said because he would anger Sir Tristram, for to\ncause him to awake his spirits, and to be wroth. For well knew Sir\nDinadan that and Sir Tristram were thoroughly wroth, Sir Palamides\nshould not get the prize upon the morn. And for this intent Sir Dinadan\nsaid all this railing and language against Sir Tristram. Truly, said\nSir Palamides, as for Sir Launcelot, of his noble knighthood, courtesy,\nand prowess, and gentleness, I know not his peer: for this day, said\nSir Palamides, I did full uncourteously unto Sir Launcelot, and full\nunknightly, and full knightly and courteously he did to me again: for\nand he had been as ungentle to me as I was to him, this day I had won\nno worship. And therefore, said Palamides, I shall be Sir Launcelot\u2019s\nknight whiles my life lasteth. This talking was in the houses of kings.\nBut all kings, lords, and knights said, of clear knighthood and pure\nstrength, of bounty, and courtesy, Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristram bare\nthe prize above all knights that ever were in Arthur\u2019s days. And there\nwere never knights in Arthur\u2019s days did half so many deeds as they did:\nas the book saith, no ten knights did not half the deeds that they did;\nand there was never knight in their days that required Sir Launcelot or\nSir Tristram of any quest, so it were not to their shame, but they\nperformed their desire.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXIII.\n\n_How king Arthur and Sir Launcelot came to see La Beale Isoud, and how\n Palamides smote down king Arthur._\n\nSo on the morn Sir Launcelot departed, and Sir Tristram was ready, and\nLa Beale Isoud with Sir Palamides and Sir Gareth. And so they rode all\nin green, full freshly beseen, unto the forest. And Sir Tristram left\nSir Dinadan sleeping in his bed. And so as they rode, it happed the\nking and Launcelot stood in a window, and saw Sir Tristram ride and\nIsoud. Sir, said Sir Launcelot, yonder rideth the fairest lady of the\nworld, except your queen dame Guenever. Who is that? said Sir Arthur.\nSir, said he, it is queen Isoud, that, out-taken my lady your queen,\nshe is matchless. Take your horse, said Arthur, and array you at all\nrights, as I will do, and I promise you, said the king, I will see her.\nThen anon they were armed and horsed, and either took a spear and rode\nunto the forest. Sir, said Launcelot, it is not good that ye go too\nnigh them, for wit ye well there are two as good knights as now are\nliving; and therefore, Sir, I pray you be not too hasty. For\nperadventure there will be some knights be displeased and we come\nsuddenly upon them. As for that, said Arthur, I will see her, for I\ntake no force whom I grieve. Sir, said Launcelot, ye put yourself in\ngreat jeopardy. As for that, said the king, we will take the adventure.\nRight so anon the king rode even to her, and saluted her, and said, God\nyou save. Sir, said she, ye are welcome. Then the king beheld her, and\nliked her wonderly well. With that came Sir Palamides unto Arthur and\nsaid, Uncourteous knight, what seeketh thou here? Thou art uncourteous,\nto come upon a lady thus suddenly; therefore withdraw thee. Sir Arthur\ntook none heed of Sir Palamides\u2019 words, but ever he looked still upon\nqueen Isoud. Then was Sir Palamides wroth, and therewith he took a\nspear and came hurtling upon king Arthur, and smote him down with a\nspear. When Sir Launcelot saw that despite of Sir Palamides, he said to\nhimself, I am loth to have ado with yonder knight, and not for his own\nsake but for Sir Tristram. And one thing I am sure of, if I smite down\nSir Palamides I must have ado with Sir Tristram, and that were over\nmuch for me to match them both, for they are two noble knights:\nnotwithstanding, whether I live or die, needs must I revenge my lord,\nand so will I whatsoever befal of me. And therewith Sir Launcelot cried\nto Sir Palamides, Keep thee from me! And then Sir Launcelot and Sir\nPalamides rashed together with two spears strongly. But Sir Launcelot\nsmote Sir Palamides so hard that he went quite out of his saddle, and\nhad a great fall. When Sir Tristram saw Sir Palamides have that fall,\nhe said to Sir Launcelot, Sir knight keep thee, for I must just with\nthee. As for to just with me, said Sir Launcelot, I will not fail you\nfor no dread I have of you, but I am loth to have ado with you and I\nmight choose: for I will that ye wit that I must revenge my special\nlord, that was unhorsed unwarily and unknightly. And therefore, though\nI have revenged that fall, take ye no displeasure therein, for he is to\nme such a friend that I may not see him shamed. Anon Sir Tristram\nunderstood by his person and by his knightly words that it was Sir\nLauncelot du Lake, and verily Sir Tristram deemed that it was king\nArthur, he that Sir Palamides had smitten down.\n\nAnd then Sir Tristram put his spear from him, and put Sir Palamides\nagain on horseback; and Sir Launcelot put king Arthur on horseback, and\nso departed. Truly, said Sir Tristram unto Palamides, ye did not\nworshipfully when ye smote down that knight so suddenly as ye did. And\nwit ye well ye did yourself great shame: for the knights came hither of\ntheir gentleness to see a fair lady, and that is every good knight\u2019s\npart to behold a fair lady, and ye had not ado to play such masteries\nafore my lady. Wit thou well it will turn to anger, for he that ye\nsmote down was king Arthur, and that other was the good knight Sir\nLauncelot. But I shall not forget the words of Sir Launcelot, when that\nhe called him a man of great worship: thereby I wist that it was king\nArthur. And as for Sir Launcelot, and there had been five hundred\nknights in the meadow he would not have refused them, and yet he said\nhe would refuse me: by that again I wist that it was Sir Launcelot, for\never he forbeareth me in every place, and sheweth me great kindness;\nand of all knights\u2014I out-take none, say what men will say\u2014he beareth\nthe flower of all chivalry, say it him whosoever will, and he be well\nangered, and that him list to do his utterance without any favour, I\nknow him not on live but Sir Launcelot is over hard for him, be it on\nhorseback or on foot. I may never believe, said Sir Palamides, that\nking Arthur will ride so privily as a poor errant knight. Ah, said Sir\nTristram, ye know not my lord Arthur, for all knights may learn to be a\nknight of him. And therefore ye may be sorry, said Sir Tristram, of\nyour unkindly deeds to so noble a king. And a thing that is done may\nnot be undone, said Sir Palamides. Then Sir Tristram sent queen Isoud\nunto her lodging in the priory, there to behold all the tournament.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXIV.\n\n_How the second day Palamides forsook Sir Tristram, and went to the\n contrary part against him._\n\nThen there was a cry unto all knights, that when they heard an horn\nblow they should make justs as they did the first day. And like as the\nbrethren Sir Edward and Sir Sadok began the justs the first day, Sir\nUwaine, the king\u2019s son Urein, and Sir Lucanere de Buttelere, began the\njusts the second day. And at the first encounter Sir Uwaine smote down\nthe king\u2019s son of Scots, and Sir Lucanere ran against the king of\nWales, and they brake their spears all to pieces, and they were so\nfierce both, that they hurtled together that both fell to the earth.\nThen they of Orkney horsed again Sir Lucanere. And then came in Sir\nTristram de Liones; and then Sir Tristram smote down Sir Uwaine and Sir\nLucanere; and Sir Palamides smote down other two knights; and Sir\nGareth smote down other two knights. Then said Sir Arthur unto Sir\nLauncelot, See yonder three knights do passing well, and namely the\nfirst that justed. Sir, said Launcelot, that knight began not yet, but\nye shall see him this day do marvellously. And then came into the place\nthe duke\u2019s son of Orkney, and then they began to do many deeds of arms.\nWhen Sir Tristram saw them so begin, he said to Palamides, How feel ye\nyourself? may ye do this day as ye did yesterday? Nay, said Palamides,\nI feel myself so weary and so sore bruised of the deeds of yesterday,\nthat I may not endure as I did yesterday. That me repenteth, said Sir\nTristram, for I shall lack you this day. Sir Palamides said, Trust not\nto me, for I may not do as I did. All these words said Palamides for to\nbeguile Sir Tristram. Sir, said Sir Tristram unto Sir Gareth, then must\nI trust upon you; wherefore I pray you be not far from me to rescue me.\nAnd need be, said Gareth, I shall not fail you in all that I may do.\n\nThen Sir Palamides rode by himself, and then in despite of Sir Tristram\nhe put himself in the thickest press among them of Orkney: and there he\ndid so marvellous deeds of arms that all men had wonder of him, for\nthere might none stand him a stroke. When Sir Tristram saw Sir\nPalamides do such deeds he marvelled, and said to himself, He is weary\nof my company. So Sir Tristram beheld him a great while, and did but\nlittle else, for the noise and cry was so huge and great that Sir\nTristram marvelled from whence came the strength that Sir Palamides had\nthere in the field. Sir, said Sir Gareth unto Sir Tristram, remember ye\nnot of the words that Sir Dinadan said to you yesterday, when he called\nyou coward? For sooth, Sir, he said it for none ill; for ye are the man\nin the world that he most loveth, and all that he said was for your\nworship. And therefore, said Sir Gareth to Sir Tristram, let me know\nthis day what ye be; and wonder ye not so upon Sir Palamides, for he\nenforceth himself to win all the worship and honour from you. I may\nwell believe it, said Sir Tristram, and since I understand his evil\nwill and his envy ye shall see, if that I enforce myself, that the\nnoise shall be left that now is upon him.\n\nThen Sir Tristram rode into the thickest of the press, and then he did\nso marvellously well, and did so great deeds of arms, that all men said\nthat Sir Tristram did double so much deeds of arms that Sir Palamides\nhad done aforehand. And then the noise went plain from Sir Palamides,\nand all the people cried upon Sir Tristram. See, said the people, how\nSir Tristram smiteth down with his spear so many knights. And see, said\nthey all, how many knights he smiteth down with his sword, and of how\nmany knights he rashed off their helms and their shields. And so he\nbeat them all of Orkney afore him. How now, said Sir Launcelot unto\nking Arthur, I told you that this day there would a knight play his\npageant. Yonder rideth a knight ye may see he doth knightly, for he\nhath strength and wind. Truly, said Arthur to Launcelot, ye say sooth,\nfor I saw never a better knight, for he passeth far Sir Palamides. Sir,\nwit ye well, said Launcelot, it must be so of right, for it is himself\nthat noble knight Sir Tristram. I may right well believe it, said\nArthur. But when Sir Palamides heard the noise and the cry was turned\nfrom him he rode out on a part, and beheld Sir Tristram. And when Sir\nPalamides saw Sir Tristram do so marvellously well, he wept passingly\nsore for despite, for he wist well he should no worship win that day.\nFor well knew Sir Palamides, when Sir Tristram would put forth his\nstrength and his manhood, he should get but little worship that day.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXV.\n\n_How Sir Tristram departed out of the field, and awaked Sir Dinadan,\n and changed his array into black._\n\nThen came king Arthur, and the king of Northgalis, and Sir Launcelot du\nLake, and Sir Bleoberis, Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Ector de Maris, these\nthree knights came into the field with Sir Launcelot. And then Sir\nLauncelot with the three knights of his kin did so great deeds of arms,\nthat all the noise began upon Sir Launcelot. And so they beat the king\nof Wales and the king of Scots far aback, and made them to avoid the\nfield. But Sir Tristram and Sir Gareth abode still in the field, and\nendured all that ever there came, that all men had wonder that any\nknight might endure so many strokes. But ever Sir Launcelot and his\nthree kinsmen, by the commandment of Sir Launcelot, forbare Sir\nTristram. Then said Sir Arthur, Is that Sir Palamides that endureth so\nwell? Nay, said Sir Launcelot, wit ye well it is the good knight Sir\nTristram, for yonder ye may see Sir Palamides beholdeth, and hoveth,\nand doth little or nought. And, sir, ye shall understand that Sir\nTristram weeneth this day to beat us all out of the field. And as for\nme, said Sir Launcelot, I shall not beat him, beat him who so will.\nSir, said Launcelot unto Arthur, ye may see how Sir Palamides hoveth\nyonder as though he were in a dream; wit ye well he is full heavy that\nTristram doth such deeds of arms. Then is he but a fool, said Arthur,\nfor never was Sir Palamides, nor never shall be, of such prowess as Sir\nTristram. And if he have any envy at Sir Tristram, and cometh in with\nhim upon his side, he is a false knight. As the king and Sir Launcelot\nthus spake, Sir Tristram rode privily out of the press, that none\nespied him but La Beale Isoud and Sir Palamides, for they two would not\nlet of their eyes upon Sir Tristram.\n\nAnd when Sir Tristram came to his pavilions, he found Sir Dinadan in\nhis bed asleep. Awake, said Tristram, ye ought to be ashamed so to\nsleep, when knights have ado in the field. Then Sir Dinadan arose\nlightly, and said, What will ye that I shall do? Make you ready, said\nSir Tristram, to ride with me into the field. So when Sir Dinadan was\narmed he looked upon Sir Tristram\u2019s helm and on his shield, and when he\nsaw so many strokes upon his helm and upon his shield, he said, In good\ntime was I thus asleep; for had I been with you I must needs for shame\nthere have followed you, more for shame than any prowess that is in me,\nthat I see well now by those strokes, that I should have been truly\nbeaten as I was yesterday. Leave your jests, said Sir Tristram, and\ncome off, that we were in the field again. What, said Sir Dinadan, is\nyour heart up? Yesterday ye fared as though ye had dreamed. So then Sir\nTristram was arrayed in black harness. Oh, said Sir Dinadan, what\naileth you this day? me seemeth ye be wilder than ye were yesterday.\nThen smiled Sir Tristram, and said to Dinadan, Await well upon me: if\nye see me over-matched look that ye be ever behind me, and I shall make\nyou ready way. So Sir Tristram and Sir Dinadan took their horses. All\nthis espied Sir Palamides, both their going and their coming, and so\ndid La Beale Isoud, for she knew Sir Tristram above all other.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXVI.\n\n_How Sir Palamides changed his shield and his armour for to hurt Sir\n Tristram, and how Sir Launcelot did to Sir Tristram._\n\nThen when Sir Palamides saw that Sir Tristram was disguised, then he\nthought to do him a shame. So Sir Palamides rode to a knight that was\nsore wounded, that sat under a fair well from the field. Sir knight,\nsaid Sir Palamides, I pray you to lend me your armour and your shield,\nfor mine is over well known in this field, and that hath done me great\ndamage, and ye shall have mine armour and my shield, that is as sure as\nyours. I will well, said the knight, that ye have mine armour and my\nshield, if they may do you any avail. So Sir Palamides armed him\nhastily in that knight\u2019s armour, and his shield that shone as any\ncrystal or silver, and so he came riding into the field. And then there\nwas neither Sir Tristram nor none of king Arthur\u2019s party that knew Sir\nPalamides. And right so as Sir Palamides was come into the field Sir\nTristram smote down three knights, even in the sight of Sir Palamides.\nAnd then Sir Palamides rode against Sir Tristram, and either met other\nwith great spears, that they brast to their hands. And then they dashed\ntogether with swords eagerly. Then Sir Tristram had marvel what knight\nhe was that did battle so knightly with him. Then was Sir Tristram\nwroth, for he felt him passing strong, so that he deemed he might not\nhave ado with the remnant of the knights, because of the strength of\nSir Palamides. So they lashed together, and gave many sad strokes\ntogether, and many knights marvelled what knight he might be that so\nencountered with the black knight, Sir Tristram. Full well knew La\nBeale Isoud that there was Sir Palamides that fought with Sir Tristram,\nfor she espied all in her window where that she stood, as Sir Palamides\nchanged his harness with the wounded knight. And then she began to weep\nso heartily for the despite of Sir Palamides that there she swooned.\nThen came in Sir Launcelot with the knights of Orkney; and when the\nother party had espied Sir Launcelot they cried, Return, return, here\ncometh Sir Launcelot du Lake. So there came knights and said, Sir\nLauncelot, ye must needs fight with yonder knight in the black harness\n(that was Sir Tristram), for he hath almost overcome that good knight\nthat fighteth with him with the silver shield (that was Sir Palamides).\nThen Sir Launcelot rode betwixt Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides, and Sir\nLauncelot said to Palamides, Sir knight, let me have the battle, for ye\nhave need to be reposed. Sir Palamides knew Sir Launcelot well, and so\ndid Sir Tristram. But because Sir Launcelot was a far hardier knight\nthan himself therefore he was glad, and suffered Sir Launcelot to fight\nwith Sir Tristram. For well wist he that Sir Launcelot knew not Sir\nTristram, and there he hoped that Sir Launcelot should beat or shame\nSir Tristram, whereof Sir Palamides was full fain. And so Sir Launcelot\ngave Sir Tristram many sad strokes, but Sir Launcelot knew not Sir\nTristram, but Sir Tristram knew well Sir Launcelot. And thus they\nfought long together, that La Beale Isoud was well out of her mind for\nsorrow. Then Sir Dinadan told Sir Gareth how that knight in the black\nharness was Sir Tristram, and this is Launcelot that fighteth with him,\nthat must needs have the better of him, for Sir Tristram hath had too\nmuch travail this day. Then let us smite him down, said Sir Gareth. So\nit is better that we do, said Sir Dinadan, than Sir Tristram be shamed.\nFor yonder hoveth the strong knight with the silver shield to fall upon\nSir Tristram if need be. Then forthwithal Gareth rushed upon Sir\nLauncelot, and gave him a great stroke upon his helm so hard that he\nwas astonied. And then came Sir Dinadan with a spear, and he smote Sir\nLauncelot such a buffet that horse and all fell to the earth. Alas,\nsaid Sir Tristram to Sir Gareth and Sir Dinadan, fie for shame, why did\nye smite down so good a knight as he is, and namely when I had ado with\nhim? Now ye do yourself great shame, and him no dis-worship: for I held\nhim reasonable hot though ye had not holpen me. Then came Sir Palamides\nthat was disguised, and smote down Sir Dinadan from his horse. Then Sir\nLauncelot, because Sir Dinadan had smitten him aforehand, then Sir\nLauncelot assailed Sir Dinadan passing sore, and Sir Dinadan defended\nhim mightily. But well understood Sir Tristram that Sir Dinadan might\nnot endure Sir Launcelot, wherefore Sir Tristram was sorry. Then came\nSir Palamides fresh upon Sir Tristram. And when Sir Tristram saw him\ncome, he thought to deliver him at once, because that he would help Sir\nDinadan, because he stood in great peril with Sir Launcelot. Then Sir\nTristram hurtled unto Sir Palamides, and gave him a great buffet, and\nthen Sir Tristram gat Sir Palamides, and pulled him down underneath\nhim. And so fell Sir Tristram with him, and Sir Tristram lept up\nlightly, and left Sir Palamides, and went betwixt Sir Launcelot and\nDinadan, and then they began to do battle together. Right so Sir\nDinadan gat Sir Tristram\u2019s horse, and said on high, that Sir Launcelot\nmight hear it, My lord Sir Tristram, take your horse. And when Sir\nLauncelot heard him name Sir Tristram, Alas, said Sir Launcelot, what\nhave I done? I am dishonoured. Ah, my lord Sir Tristram, said\nLauncelot, why were ye disguised? ye have put yourself in great peril\nthis day. But, I pray you, noble knight, to pardon me, for and I had\nknown you we had not done this battle. Sir, said Sir Tristram, this is\nnot the first kindness ye shewed me. So they were both horsed again.\nThen all the people on the one side gave Sir Launcelot the honour and\nthe degree, and on the other side all the people gave to the noble\nknight Sir Tristram the honour and the degree. But Launcelot said nay\nthereto:\u2014For I am not worthy to have this honour, for I will report me\nunto all knights that Sir Tristram hath been longer in the field than\nI, and he hath smitten down many more knights this day than I have\ndone; and therefore I will give Sir Tristram my voice and my name, and\nso I pray all my lords and fellows so to do. Then there was the whole\nvoice of dukes and earls, barons and knights, that Sir Tristram this\nday is proved the best knight.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXVII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram departed with La Beale Isoud, and how Palamides\n followed and excused him._\n\nThen they blew unto lodging, and queen Isoud was led unto her\npavilions. But wit you well she was wroth out of measure with Sir\nPalamides, for she saw all his treason from the beginning to the\nending. And all this while neither Sir Tristram, neither Sir Gareth,\nnor Dinadan, knew not of the treason of Sir Palamides. But afterward ye\nshall hear that there befel the greatest debate betwixt Sir Tristram\nand Sir Palamides that might be. So when the tournament was done, Sir\nTristram, Gareth, and Dinadan rode with La Beale Isoud to these\npavilions. And ever Sir Palamides rode with them in their company\ndisguised as he was. But when Sir Tristram had espied him, that he was\nthe same knight with the shield of silver that held him so hot that\nday, Sir knight, said Sir Tristram, wit you well here is none that hath\nneed of your fellowship, and therefore I pray you depart from us. Sir\nPalamides answered again, as though he had not known Sir Tristram, Wit\nye well, sir knight, from this fellowship will I never depart, for one\nof the best knights of the world commanded me to be in this company,\nand till he discharge me of my service I will not be discharged. By\nthat Sir Tristram knew that it was Sir Palamides. Ah Sir Palamides,\nsaid the noble knight Sir Tristram, are ye such a knight? Ye have been\nnamed wrong, for ye have long been called a gentle knight, and as this\nday ye have shewed me great ungentleness, for ye had almost brought me\nunto my death. But as for you I suppose I should have done well enough,\nbut Sir Launcelot with you was overmuch, for I know no knight living\nbut Sir Launcelot is over good for him, and he will do his uttermost.\nAlas, said Sir Palamides, are ye my lord Sir Tristram? Yea, sir, and\nthat ye know well enough. By my knighthood, said Palamides, until now I\nknew you not, for I wend that ye had been the king of Ireland, for well\nI wot that ye bare his arms. His arms I bare, said Sir Tristram, and\nthat will I stand by, for I won them once in a field of a full noble\nknight, his name was Sir Marhaus, and with great pain I won that\nknight, for there was none other recover, but Sir Marhaus died through\nfalse leeches, and yet was he never yielden to me. Sir, said Palamides,\nI wend ye had been turned upon Sir Launcelot\u2019s party, and that caused\nme to turn. Ye say well, said Sir Tristram, and so I take you, and I\nforgive you. So then they rode into their pavilions, and when they were\nalight they unarmed them, and washed their faces and hands, and so went\nto meat, and were set at their table. But when Isoud saw Sir Palamides\nshe changed then her colours, and for wrath she might not speak. Anon\nSir Tristram espied her countenance, and said, Madam, for what cause\nmake ye us such cheer? we have been sore travailed this day. Mine own\nlord, said La Beale Isoud, be ye not displeased with me, for I may none\notherwise do, for I saw this day how ye were betrayed, and nigh brought\nto your death. Truly, sir, I saw every deal, how, and in what wise; and\ntherefore, sir, how should I suffer in your presence such a felon and\ntraitor as Sir Palamides. For I saw him with mine eyes how he beheld\nyou when ye went out of the field. For ever he hoved still upon his\nhorse till he saw you come in againward. And then forthwithal I saw him\nride to the hurt knight, and change harness with him, and then straight\nI saw him how he rode into the field. And anon as he had found you he\nencountered with you, and thus wilfully Sir Palamides did battle with\nyou, and as for him, sir, I was not greatly afeard, but I dread sore\nLauncelot, that knew you not. Madam, said Palamides, ye may say what so\nye will, I may not contrary you, but by my knighthood I knew not Sir\nTristram. Sir Palamides, said Sir Tristram, I will take your excuse,\nbut well I wot ye spared me but little, but all is pardoned on my part.\nThen La Beale Isoud held down her head, and said no more at that time.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXVIII.\n\n_How king Arthur and Sir Launcelot came into their pavilions as they\n sat at supper; and of Palamides._\n\nAnd therewithal two knights armed came unto the pavilion, and there\nthey alight both, and came in armed at all pieces. Fair knights, said\nSir Tristram, ye are to blame to come thus armed at all pieces upon me\nwhile we are at our meat. If ye would anything, when we were in the\nfield there might ye have eased your hearts. Not so, said the one of\nthose knights, we come not for that intent; but wit ye well, Sir\nTristram, we be come hither as your friends. And I am come here, said\nthe one, for to see you, and this knight is come for to see La Beale\nIsoud. Then, said Sir Tristram, I require you do off your helms, that I\nmay see you. That will we do at your desire, said the knights. And when\ntheir helms were off, Sir Tristram thought he should know them. Then\nsaid Sir Dinadan privily unto Sir Tristram, Sir, that is Sir Launcelot\ndu Lake that spake unto you first, and the other is my lord king\nArthur. Then said Sir Tristram unto La Beale Isoud, Madam, arise, for\nhere is my lord king Arthur. Then the king and the queen kissed, and\nSir Launcelot and Sir Tristram braced either other in arms, and then\nthere was joy without measure, and at the request of La Beale Isoud\nking Arthur and Launcelot were unarmed. And then there was merry\ntalking.\n\nMadam, said Sir Arthur, it is many a day sithen that I have desired to\nsee you. For ye have been praised so far, and now I dare say ye are the\nfairest that ever I saw; and Sir Tristram is as fair and as good a\nknight as any that I know, therefore me beseemeth ye are well beset\ntogether. Sir, I thank you, said the noble knight Sir Tristram, and\nIsoud; of your great goodness and largesse ye are peerless. Thus they\ntalked of many things, and of all the whole justs. But for what cause,\nsaid king Arthur, were ye, Sir Tristram, against us? Ye are a knight of\nthe Table Round; of right ye should have been with us. Sir, said Sir\nTristram, here is Dinadan and Sir Gareth your own nephew caused me to\nbe against you. My lord Arthur, said Gareth, I may well bear the blame,\nbut it were Sir Tristram\u2019s own deeds. That may I repent, said Sir\nDinadan, for this unhappy Sir Tristram brought us to this tournament,\nand many great buffets he caused us to have. Then the king and\nLauncelot laughed that they might not sit. What knight was that, said\nArthur, that held you so short, this with the shield of silver? Sir,\nsaid Sir Tristram, here he sitteth at this board. What, said Arthur,\nwas it Sir Palamides? Wit ye well it was he, said La Beale Isoud.\nTruly, said Arthur, that was unknightly done of you of so good a\nknight, for I have heard many people call you a courteous knight. Sir,\nsaid Palamides I knew not Sir Tristram, for he was so disguised. Truly,\nsaid Launcelot, it may well be, for I knew not Sir Tristram, but I\nmarvel why ye turned on our party. That was done for the same cause,\nsaid Launcelot. As for that, said Sir Tristram, I have pardoned him,\nand I would be right loth to leave his fellowship, for I love right\nwell his company. So they left off, and talked of other things. And in\nthe evening king Arthur and Sir Launcelot departed unto their lodging.\nBut wit ye well Sir Palamides had envy heartily, for all that night he\nhad never rest in his bed, but wailed and wept out of measure. So on\nthe morn Sir Tristram, Gareth, and Dinadan arose early, and then they\nwent unto Sir Palamides\u2019 chamber, and there they found him fast on\nsleep, for he had all night watched. And it was seen upon his cheeks\nthat he had wept full sore. Say nothing, said Sir Tristram, for I am\nsure he hath taken anger and sorrow for the rebuke that I gave to him,\nand La Beale Isoud.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXIX.\n\n_How Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides did the next day, and how king\n Arthur was unhorsed._\n\nThen Sir Tristram let call Sir Palamides, and bade him make him ready,\nfor it was time to go to the field. When they were ready they were\narmed and clothed all in red, both Isoud and all they. And so they led\nher passing freshly through the field, into the priory where was her\nlodging. And then they heard three blasts blow, and every king and\nknight dressed him unto the field; and the first that was ready to just\nwas Sir Palamides and Sir Kainus le Strange, a knight of the Table\nRound. And so they two encountered together, but Sir Palamides smote\nSir Kainus so hard, that he smote him quite over his horse croup: and\nforth withal Sir Palamides smote down another knight, and brake then\nhis spear, and pulled out his sword and did wonderly well. And then the\nnoise began greatly upon Sir Palamides. Lo, said king Arthur, yonder\nPalamides beginneth to play his pageant. Truly, said Arthur, he is a\npassing good knight. And right as they stood talking thus, in came Sir\nTristram as thunder, and he encountered Sir Kay the seneschal, and\nthere he smote him down quite from his horse, and with that same spear\nSir Tristram smote down three knights more; and then he pulled out his\nsword and did marvellously. Then the noise and cry changed from Sir\nPalamides and turned to Sir Tristram, and all the people cried, O\nTristram! O Tristram! And then was Sir Palamides clean forgotten. How\nnow, said Launcelot unto Arthur, yonder rideth a knight that playeth\nhis pageants. Truly, said Arthur to Launcelot, ye shall see this day\nthat yonder two knights shall here do this day wonders. Sir, said\nLauncelot, the one knight waiteth upon the other, and enforceth himself\nthrough envy to pass the noble knight Sir Tristram, and he knoweth not\nof the privy envy the which Sir Palamides hath to him. For all that the\nnoble Sir Tristram doth is through clean knighthood. And then Sir\nGareth and Dinadan did wonderly great deeds of arms as two noble\nknights, so that king Arthur spake of them great honour and worship;\nand the kings and knights of Sir Tristram\u2019s side did passing well, and\nheld them truly together. Then Sir Arthur and Sir Launcelot took their\nhorses and dressed them, and gat into the thickest of the press. And\nthere Sir Tristram unknowing smote down king Arthur, and then Sir\nLauncelot would have rescued him, but there were so many upon Sir\nLauncelot that they pulled him down from his horse. And then the king\nof Ireland and the king of Scots, with their knights, did their pain to\ntake king Arthur and Sir Launcelot prisoner. When Sir Launcelot heard\nthem say so, he fared as it had been an hungry lion, for he fared so\nthat no knight durst nigh him. Then came Sir Ector de Maris, and he\nbare a spear against Sir Palamides, and brake it upon him all to\nshivers. And then Sir Ector came again, and gave Sir Palamides such a\ndash with a sword that he stooped down upon his saddle-bow. And forth\nwithal Sir Ector pulled down Sir Palamides under his feet. And then Sir\nEctor de Maris gat Sir Launcelot du Lake an horse, and brought it to\nhim, and bad him mount upon him. But Sir Palamides lept afore, and gat\nthe horse by the bridle, and lept into the saddle. Truly, said\nLauncelot, ye are better worthy to have that horse than I. Then Sir\nEctor brought Sir Launcelot another horse. Gramercy, said Launcelot\nunto his brother. And so when he was horsed again, with one spear he\nsmote down four knights. And then Sir Launcelot brought to king Arthur\none of the best of the four horses. Then Sir Launcelot with king Arthur\nand a few of his knights of Sir Launcelot\u2019s kin, did marvellous deeds;\nfor that time, as the book recordeth, Sir Launcelot smote down and\npulled down thirty knights. Notwithstanding, the other part held them\nso fast together that king Arthur and his knights were overmatched. And\nwhen Sir Tristram saw that, what labour king Arthur and his knights, in\nespecial the noble deeds that Sir Launcelot did with his own hands, he\nmarvelled greatly.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXX.\n\n_How Sir Tristram turned to king Arthur\u2019s side, and how Sir Palamides\n would not._\n\nThen Sir Tristram called unto him Sir Palamides, Sir Gareth, and Sir\nDinadan, and said thus to them, My fair fellows, wit ye well that I\nwill turn unto king Arthur\u2019s party, for I saw never so few men do so\nwell, and it will be shame unto us knights that be of the Round Table\nto see our lord king Arthur, and that noble knight Sir Launcelot, to be\ndishonoured. It will be well done, said Sir Gareth and Sir Dinadan. Do\nyour best, said Palamides, for I will not change my party that I came\nin withal. That is for my sake, said Sir Tristram: speed you well in\nyour journey. And so departed Sir Palamides from them. Then Sir\nTristram, Sir Gareth, and Sir Dinadan, turned with Sir Launcelot. And\nthen Sir Launcelot smote down the king of Ireland quite from his horse;\nand so Sir Launcelot smote down the king of Scots, and the king of\nWales. And then Sir Arthur ran unto Sir Palamides, and smote him quite\nfrom his horse. And then Sir Tristram bare down all that he met. Sir\nGareth and Sir Dinadan did there as noble knights. Then all the parties\nbegan to flee. Alas, said Palamides, that ever I should see this day,\nfor now have I lost all the worship that I wan. And then Sir Palamides\nwent his way wailing, and so withdrew him till he came to a well, and\nthere he put his horse from him, and did off his armour, and wailed and\nwept like as he had been a wood man.\n\nThen many knights gave the prize to Sir Tristram, and there were many\nthat gave the prize unto Sir Launcelot. Fair lords, said Sir Tristram,\nI thank you of the honour ye would give me, but I pray you heartily\nthat ye would give your voice to Sir Launcelot, for by my faith, said\nSir Tristram, I will give Sir Launcelot my voice. But Sir Launcelot\nwould not have it. And so the prize was given betwixt them both. Then\nevery man rode to his lodging. And Sir Bleoberis and Sir Ector rode\nwith Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud unto her pavilions. Then as Sir\nPalamides was at the well, wailing and weeping, there came by him\nfleeing the king of Wales, and of Scotland, and they saw Sir Palamides\nin that rage. Alas, said they, that so noble a man as ye be should be\nin this array. And then those kings gat Sir Palamides\u2019 horse again, and\nmade him to arm him and mount upon his horse, and so he rode with them,\nmaking great dole. So when Sir Palamides came nigh the pavilions there\nas Sir Tristram and La Beale Isoud were in, then Sir Palamides prayed\nthe two kings to abide him there the while that he spake with Sir\nTristram. And when he came to the port of the pavilions, Sir Palamides\nsaid on high, Where art thou, Sir Tristram de Liones? Sir, said\nDinadan, that is Palamides. What, Sir Palamides, will ye not come in\nhere among us? Fie on thee traitor, said Sir Palamides, for wit you\nwell, and it were daylight as it is night, I would slay thee with mine\nown hands. And if ever I may get thee, said Palamides, thou shalt die\nfor this day\u2019s deed. Sir Palamides, said Sir Tristram, ye blame me with\nwrong, for had ye done as I did ye had won worship. But since ye give\nme so large warning I shall be well ware of you. Fie on thee traitor,\nsaid Palamides, and therewith departed. Then on the morn Sir Tristram,\nBleoberis, and Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Gareth, Sir Dinadan, what by\nwater and what by land, they brought La Beale Isoud unto Joyous Gard,\nand there reposed them a seven night, and made all the mirths and\ndisports that they could devise. And king Arthur and his knights drew\nunto Camelot, and Sir Palamides rode with the two kings; and ever he\nmade the greatest dole that any man could think. For he was not all\nonly so dolorous for the departing from La Beale Isoud, but he was a\npart as sorrowful to depart from the fellowship of Sir Tristram, for\nSir Tristram was so kind and so gentle that when Sir Palamides\nremembered him thereof he might never be merry.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXXI.\n\n_How Sir Bleoberis and Sir Ector reported to queen Guenever of the\n beauty of La Beale Isoud._\n\nSo at the seven night\u2019s end Sir Bleoberis and Sir Ector departed from\nSir Tristram and from the queen, and these two good knights had great\ngifts, and Sir Gareth and Sir Dinadan abode with Sir Tristram. And when\nSir Bleoberis and Sir Ector were come there as the queen Guenever was\nlodged in a castle by the sea side, and through the grace of God the\nqueen was recovered from her malady, then she asked the two knights\nfrom whence they came. They said they came from Sir Tristram and from\nLa Beale Isoud. How doth Sir Tristram, said the queen, and La Beale\nIsoud? Truly, said those two knights, he doth as a noble knight should\ndo, and as for the queen Isoud, she is peerless of all ladies; for to\nspeak of her beauty, bounty, and mirth, and of her goodness, we saw\nnever her match as far as we have ridden and gone. Oh mercy, said queen\nGuenever, so saith all the people that have seen her and spoken with\nher. Would that I had part of her conditions. And it is misfortuned me\nof my sickness while that tournament endured; and, as I suppose, I\nshall never see in all my life such an assembly of knights and ladies\nas ye have done. Then the knights told her how Sir Palamides wan the\ndegree at the first day with great noblesse; and the second day Sir\nTristram wan the degree; and the third day Sir Launcelot wan the\ndegree. Well, said queen Guenever, who did best all these three days?\nTruly, said these knights, Sir Launcelot and Sir Tristram had least\ndishonour. And wit ye well Sir Palamides did passing well and mightily,\nbut he turned against the party that he came in withal, and that caused\nhim to lose a great part of his worship, for it seemed that Sir\nPalamides is passing envious. Then shall he never win worship, said\nqueen Guenever, for, and it happeth an envious man once to win worship,\nhe shall be dishonoured twice therefore. And for this cause all men of\nworship hate an envious man, and will shew him no favour. And he that\nis courteous, kind, and gentle, hath favour in every place.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXXII.\n\n_How Sir Palamides complained by a well, and how Epinogris came and\n found him, and of their both sorrows._\n\nNow leave we of this matter, and speak we of Sir Palamides that rode\nand lodged him with the two kings, whereof the kings were heavy. Then\nthe king of Ireland sent a man of his to Sir Palamides, and gave him a\ngreat courser. And the king of Scotland gave him great gifts, and fain\nthey would have had Sir Palamides to have abiden with them, but in no\nwise he would abide, and so he departed and rode as adventures would\nguide him, till it was nigh noon. And then in a forest by a well Sir\nPalamides saw where lay a fair wounded knight, and his horse bound by\nhim, and that knight made the greatest dole that ever he heard man\nmake, for ever he wept and sighed as though he would die. Then Sir\nPalamides rode near him, and saluted him mildly and said, Fair knight,\nwhy wail ye so? let me lie down and wail with you, for doubt ye not I\nam much more heavier than ye are; for I dare say, said Palamides, that\nmy sorrow is an hundred fold more than yours is, and therefore let us\ncomplain either to other. First, said the wounded knight, I require you\ntell me your name, for and thou be none of the noble knights of the\nRound Table thou shalt never know my name, whatsoever come of me. Fair\nknight, said Palamides, such as I am, be it better or be it worse, wit\nthou well that my name is Sir Palamides, son and heir unto king\nAstlabor, and Sir Safere and Sir Segwarides are my two brethren, and\nwit thou well as for myself I was never christened, but my two brethren\nare truly christened. Oh noble knight, said that knight, well is me\nthat I have met with you, and wit ye well my name is Epinogris, the\nking\u2019s son of Northumberland. Now sit down, said Epinogris, and let us\neither complain to other. Then Sir Palamides began his complaint. Now\nshall I tell you, said Palamides, what woe I endure. I love the fairest\nqueen and lady that ever bare life, and wit ye well her name is La\nBeale Isoud, king Mark\u2019s wife of Cornwall. That is great folly, said\nSir Epinogris, for to love queen Isoud, for one of the best knights of\nthe world loveth her, that is Sir Tristram de Liones. That is truth,\nsaid Palamides, for no man knoweth that matter better than I do, for I\nhave been in Sir Tristram\u2019s fellowship this month, and with La Beale\nIsoud together; and alas, said Palamides, unhappy man that I am, now\nhave I lost the fellowship of Sir Tristram for ever, and the love of La\nBeale Isoud for ever, and I am never like to see her more, and Sir\nTristram and I be either to other mortal enemies. Well, said Epinogris,\nsith that ye loved La Beale Isoud, loved she you ever again, by\nanything that ye could think or wit? Nay, by my knighthood, said\nPalamides, I never espied that ever she loved me more than all the\nworld. But the last day she gave me the greatest rebuke that ever I\nhad, the which shall never go from my heart, and yet I well deserved\nthat rebuke, for I had not done knightly, and therefore I have lost the\nlove of her and of Sir Tristram for ever. And I have many times\nenforced myself to do many deeds for La Beale Isoud\u2019s sake, and she was\nthe causer of my worship winning. Alas, said Sir Palamides, now have I\nlost all the worship that ever I wan, for never shall me befal such\nprowess as I had in the fellowship of Sir Tristram.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXXIII.\n\n_How Sir Palamides brought to Sir Epinogris his lady; and how Sir\n Palamides and Sir Safere were assailed._\n\nNay, nay, said Epinogris, your sorrow is but a jest to my sorrow, for I\nrejoiced my lady and wan her with my hands, and lost her again, alas\nthat day. Thus first I wan her, said Epinogris: my lady was an earl\u2019s\ndaughter, and as the earl and two knights came from the tournament of\nLonazep, for her sake I set upon this earl and on his two knights, my\nlady there being present, and so by fortune there I slew the earl and\none of the knights, and the other knight fled, and so I had my lady.\nAnd on the morn, as she and I reposed us at this well side, there came\nthere to me an errant knight, his name was Sir Helior le Preuse, an\nhardy knight; and this Sir Helior challenged me to fight for my lady.\nAnd then we went to battle, first upon horse and after on foot. But at\nthe last Sir Helior wounded me so that he left me for dead, and so he\ntook my lady with him. And thus my sorrow is more than yours, for I\nhave rejoiced, and ye rejoiced never. That is truth, said Sir\nPalamides, but sith I can never recover myself, I shall promise you, if\nI can meet with Sir Helior I shall get you your lady again, or else he\nshall beat me. Then Sir Palamides made Sir Epinogris to take his horse,\nand so they rode to an hermitage, and there Sir Epinogris rested him.\nAnd in the mean while Sir Palamides walked privily out, to rest him\nunder the leaves; and there beside he saw a knight come riding with a\nshield that he had seen Sir Ector de Maris bear aforehand, and there\ncame after him a ten knights, and so these ten knights hoved under the\nleaves for heat. And anon after there came a knight, with a green\nshield and therein a white lion, leading a lady upon a palfrey. Then\nthis knight with the green shield, that seemed to be master of the ten\nknights, he rode fiercely after Sir Helior; for it was he that hurt Sir\nEpinogris. And when he came nigh Sir Helior he bad him defend his lady.\nI will defend her, said Helior, unto my power. And so they ran together\nso mightily that either of these two knights smote other down, horse\nand all, to the earth, and then they wan up lightly and drew their\nswords and their shields, and lashed together mightily more than an\nhour. All this Sir Palamides saw and beheld, but ever at the last the\nknight with Sir Ector\u2019s shield was bigger, and at the last this knight\nsmote Sir Helior down, and then that knight unlaced his helm, to have\nstricken off his head. And then he cried mercy, and prayed him to save\nhis life, and bad him take his lady.\n\nThen Sir Palamides dressed him up, because he wist well that that same\nlady was Epinogris\u2019 lady, and he promised him to help him. Then Sir\nPalamides went straight to that lady, and took her by the hand, and\nasked her whether she knew a knight that hight Epinogris. Alas, she\nsaid, that ever he knew me, or I him, for I have for his sake lost my\nworship, and also his life grieveth me most of all. Not so, lady, said\nPalamides, come on with me, for here is Epinogris in this hermitage.\nAh, well is me, said the lady, and he be on live. Whither wilt thou\nwith that lady? said the knight with Sir Ector\u2019s shield. I will do with\nher what me list, said Palamides. Wit you well, said that knight, thou\nspeakest over large, though thou seemest me to have at advantage,\nbecause thou sawest me do battle but late. Thou weenest, sir knight, to\nhave that lady away from me so lightly; nay, think it never not, and\nthou were as good a knight as is Sir Launcelot, or as is Sir Tristram,\nor Sir Palamides, but thou shalt win her dearer than ever did I. And so\nthey went unto battle upon foot, and there they gave many sad strokes,\nand either wounded other passing sore; and thus they fought still more\nthan an hour. Then Sir Palamides had marvel what knight he might be\nthat was so strong and so well breathed during, and thus said\nPalamides: Knight, I require thee tell me thy name. Wit thou well, said\nthat knight, I dare tell thee my name, so that thou wilt tell me thy\nname. I will, said Palamides. Truly, said that knight, my name is\nSafere, son of king Astlabor, and Sir Palamides and Sir Segwarides are\nmy brethren. Now, and wit thou well my name is Sir Palamides. Then Sir\nSafere kneeled down upon his knees, and prayed him of mercy; and then\nthey unlaced their helms, and either kissed other weeping. And in the\nmean while Sir Epinogris arose out of his bed, and heard them by the\nstrokes, and so he armed him to help Sir Palamides if need were.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXXIV.\n\n_How Sir Palamides and Sir Safere conducted Sir Epinogris to his\n castle, and of other adventures._\n\nThen Sir Palamides took the lady by the hand and brought her to Sir\nEpinogris, and there was great joy betwixt them, for either swooned for\njoy. When they were met,\u2014Fair knight and lady, said Sir Safere, it\nwere pity to depart you, Heaven send you joy either of other. Gramercy,\ngentle knight, said Epinogris, and much more thank be to my lord Sir\nPalamides, that thus hath through his prowess made me to get my lady.\nThen Sir Epinogris required Sir Palamides and Sir Safere his brother to\nride with them unto his castle, for the safeguard of his person. Sir,\nsaid Palamides, we will be ready to conduct you, because that ye are\nsore wounded. And so was Epinogris and his lady horsed, and his lady\nbehind him, upon a soft ambler.\n\nAnd then they rode unto his castle, where they had great cheer, and joy\nas great as ever Sir Palamides and Sir Safere ever had in their life\ndays. So on the morn Sir Safere and Sir Palamides departed, and rode as\nfortune led them: and so they rode all that day until afternoon. And at\nthe last they heard a great weeping and a great noise down in a manor.\nSir, said then Sir Safere, let us wit what noise this is. I will well,\nsaid Sir Palamides. And so they rode forth till that they came to a\nfair gate of a manor, and there sat an old man saying his prayers and\nbeads. Then Sir Palamides and Sir Safere alight, and left their horses,\nand went within the gates, and there they saw full many goodly men\nweeping. Fair sirs, said Sir Palamides, wherefore weep ye, and make\nthis sorrow? Anon one of the knights of the castle beheld Sir Palamides\nand knew him, and then went to his fellows and said, Fair fellows, wit\nye well all, we have in this castle the same knight that slew our lord\nat Lonazep, for I know him well, it is Sir Palamides. Then they went\nunto harness all that might bear harness, some on horseback and some on\nfoot, to the number of threescore. And when they were ready, they came\nfreshly upon Sir Palamides and upon Sir Safere with a great noise, and\nsaid thus, Keep thee, Sir Palamides, for thou art known, and by right\nthou must be dead, for thou hast slain our lord, and therefore, wit ye\nwell, we will slay thee, therefore defend thee. Then Sir Palamides and\nSir Safere the one set his back to other, and gave many great strokes,\nand took many great strokes; and thus they fought with a twenty knights\nand forty gentlemen and yeomen, nigh two hours. But at the last, though\nthey were loth, Sir Palamides and Sir Safere were taken and yielden,\nand put in a strong prison. And within three days twelve knights passed\nupon them, and they found Sir Palamides guilty, and Sir Safere not\nguilty, of their lord\u2019s death. And when Sir Safere should be delivered,\nthere was great dole betwixt Sir Palamides and him, and many piteous\ncomplaints that Sir Safere made at his departing, that there is no\nmaker can rehearse the tenth part. Fair brother, said Palamides, let be\nthy dolour and thy sorrow: and if I be ordained to die a shameful\ndeath, welcome be it; but and I had wist of this death that I am doomed\nunto, I should never have been yielden. So Sir Safere departed from his\nbrother with the greatest dolour and sorrow that ever made knight. And\non the morn they of the castle ordained twelve knights to ride with Sir\nPalamides unto the father of the same knight that Sir Palamides slew;\nand so they bound his legs under an old steed\u2019s belly. And then they\nrode with Sir Palamides unto a castle by the sea side, that hight\nPelownes, and there Sir Palamides should have justice: thus was their\nordinance. And so they rode with Sir Palamides fast by the castle of\nJoyous Gard; and as they passed by that castle, there came riding out\nof that castle by them one that knew Sir Palamides; and when that\nknight saw Sir Palamides bounden upon a crooked courser, the knight\nasked Sir Palamides for what cause he was led so. Ah, my fair fellow\nand knight, said Palamides, I ride toward my death, for the slaying of\na knight at a tournament of Lonazep; and if I had not departed from my\nlord Sir Tristram, as I ought not to have done, now might I have been\nsure to have had my life saved. But I pray you, sir knight, recommand\nme unto my lord Sir Tristam, and unto my lady queen Isoud, and say to\nthem, if ever I trespassed to them I ask them forgiveness. And also, I\nbeseech you, recommand me unto my lord king Arthur, and unto all the\nfellowship of the Round Table, unto my power. Then that knight wept for\npity of Sir Palamides; and therewithal he rode unto Joyous Gard as fast\nas his horse might run. And lightly that knight descended down off his\nhorse, and went unto Sir Tristram, and there he told him all as ye have\nheard: and ever the knight wept as he had been mad.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXXV.\n\n_How Sir Tristram made him ready to rescue Sir Palamides, but Sir\n Launcelot rescued him or he came._\n\nWhen Sir Tristram heard how Sir Palamides went to his death, he was\nheavy to hear that, and said, Howbeit that I am wrath with Sir\nPalamides, yet will not I suffer him to die so shameful a death, for he\nis a full noble knight. And then anon Sir Tristram was armed, and took\nhis horse, and two squires with him, and rode a great pace toward the\ncastle of Pelownes, where Sir Palamides was judged to death. And these\ntwelve knights that led Sir Palamides passed by a well whereas Sir\nLauncelot was, which was alight there, and had tied his horse to a\ntree, and taken off his helm to drink of that well; and when he saw\nthese knights, Sir Launcelot put on his helm, and suffered them to pass\nby him. And then was he ware of Sir Palamides bounden, and led\nshamefully to his death. Oh, mercy, said Launcelot, what misadventure\nis befallen him, that he is thus led toward his death? Forsooth, said\nLauncelot, it were shame to me to suffer this noble knight so to die\nand I might help him, therefore I will help him whatsoever come of it,\nor else I shall die for Sir Palamides\u2019 sake. And then Sir Launcelot\nmounted upon his horse, and gat his spear in his hand, and rode after\nthe twelve knights that led Sir Palamides. Fair knights, said Sir\nLauncelot, whither lead ye that knight? it beseemeth him full ill to\nride bounden. Then these twelve knights suddenly turned their horses,\nand said to Sir Launcelot, Sir knight, we counsel thee not to meddle\nwith this knight, for he hath deserved death, and unto death he is\njudged. That me repenteth, said Launcelot, that I may not ransom him\nwith fairness, for he is over good a knight to die such a shameful\ndeath. And therefore, fair knights, said Sir Launcelot, keep you as\nwell as ye can, for I will rescue that knight, or die for it. Then they\nbegan to dress their spears, and Sir Launcelot smote the foremost down,\nhorse and man; and so he served three more with one spear, and then\nthat spear brake; and therewithal Sir Launcelot drew his sword, and\nthen he smote on the right hand and on the left hand: then within\nawhile he left none of those twelve knights but he had laid them to the\nearth, and the most part of them were sore wounded. And then Sir\nLauncelot took the best horse that he found, and loosed Sir Palamides,\nand set him upon that horse, and so they returned again unto Joyous\nGard. And then was Sir Palamides ware of Sir Tristram how he came\nriding; and when Sir Launcelot saw him he knew him right well; but Sir\nTristram knew not him, because Sir Launcelot had on his shoulder a\ngolden shield. So Sir Launcelot made him ready to just with Sir\nTristram, that Sir Tristram should not wend that he were Sir Launcelot.\nThen Sir Palamides cried on loud unto Sir Tristram, O my lord, I\nrequire you just not with this knight, for this good knight hath saved\nme from my death. When Sir Tristram heard him say so, he came a soft\ntrotting pace toward them. And then Sir Palamides said, My lord Sir\nTristram, much am I beholding unto you of your great goodness that\nwould proffer your noble body to rescue me undeserved, for I have\ngreatly offended you. Notwithstanding, said Sir Palamides, here met we\nwith this noble knight, that worshipfully and manly rescued me from\ntwelve knights, and smote them down all, and wounded them sore.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXXVI.\n\n_How Sir Tristram and Sir Launcelot, with Palamides, came to Joyous\n Gard; and of Palamides and Sir Tristram._\n\nFair knight, said Sir Tristram unto Sir Launcelot, of whence be ye? I\nam a knight errant, said Sir Launcelot, that rideth to seek many\nadventures. What is your name? said Sir Tristram. Sir, at this time I\nwill not tell you. Then Sir Launcelot said unto Sir Tristram and to\nPalamides, Now either of you are met together, I will depart from you.\nNot so, said Sir Tristram, I pray you of knighthood to ride with me\nunto my castle. Wit you well, said Sir Launcelot, I may not ride with\nyou, for I have many deeds to do in other places, that at this time I\nmay not abide with you. Truly, said Sir Tristram, I require you, as ye\nbe a true knight to the order of knighthood, play you with me this\nnight. Then Sir Tristram had a grant of Sir Launcelot: howbeit, though\nhe had not desired him he would have ridden with them, or soon would\ncome after them; for Sir Launcelot came for none other cause into that\ncountry but for to see Sir Tristram. And when they were come within\nJoyous Gard they alight, and their horses were led into a stable, and\nthen they unarmed them. And when Sir Launcelot was unhelmed, Sir\nTristram and Sir Palamides knew him. Then Sir Tristram took Sir\nLauncelot in arms, and so did La Beale Isoud; and Sir Palamides kneeled\ndown upon his knees and thanked Sir Launcelot. When Sir Launcelot saw\nSir Palamides kneel, he lightly took him up, and said thus; Wit thou\nwell, Sir Palamides, I, and any knight in this land of worship, ought\nof very right succour and rescue so noble a knight as ye are proved and\nrenowned throughout all this realm, endlong and overthwart. And then\nwas there joy among them; and the oftener that Sir Palamides saw La\nBeale Isoud, the heavier he waxed day by day. Then Sir Launcelot within\nthree or four days departed; and with him rode Sir Ector de Maris: and\nDinadan and Sir Palamides were there left with Sir Tristram a two\nmonths and more. But ever Sir Palamides faded and mourned, that all men\nhad marvel wherefore he faded so away. So upon a day, in the dawning\nSir Palamides went into the forest by himself alone, and there he found\na well, and then he looked into the well, and in the water he saw his\nown visage, how he was disturbed and defaded, nothing like that he was.\nWhat may this mean? said Sir Palamides. And thus he said to himself:\nAh, Palamides, Palamides, why art thou diffaded, thou that was wont be\ncalled one of the fairest knights of the world? I will no more lead\nthis life, for I love that I may never get nor recover. And therewithal\nhe laid him down by the well. And then he began to make a rhyme of La\nBeale Isoud and him. And in the meanwhile Sir Tristram was that same\nday ridden into the forest to chase the hart of greese. But Sir\nTristram would not ride on hunting never more unarmed because of Sir\nBreuse Sance Pit\u00e9. And so as Sir Tristram rode into that forest up and\ndown, he heard one sing marvellously loud; and that was Sir Palamides,\nthat lay by the well. And then Sir Tristram rode softly thither, for he\ndeemed there was some knight errant that was at the well.\n\nAnd when Sir Tristram came nigh him, he descended down from his horse,\nand tied his horse fast till a tree, and then he came near him on foot.\nAnd anon he was ware where lay Sir Palamides by the well, and sang loud\nand merrily. And ever the complaints were of that noble queen La Beale\nIsoud, the which was marvellously and wonderfully well said, and full\ndolefully and piteously made. And all the whole song the noble knight\nSir Tristram heard from the beginning to the ending, the which grieved\nand troubled him sore. But then at the last, when Sir Tristram had\nheard all Sir Palamides\u2019 complaints, he was wroth out of measure, and\nthought for to slay him there as he lay. Then Sir Tristram remembered\nhimself that Sir Palamides was unarmed, and of the noble name that Sir\nPalamides had, and the noble name that himself had, and then he made a\nrestraint of his anger, and so he went unto Sir Palamides a soft pace,\nand said, Sir Palamides, I have heard your complaint, and of thy\ntreason that thou hast owed me so long. And wit thou well therefore\nthou shalt die. And if it were not for shame of knighthood thou\nshouldest not escape my hands, for now I know well thou hast awaited me\nwith treason. Tell me, said Sir Tristram, how thou wilt acquit thee.\nSir, said Palamides, thus I will acquit me:\u2014as for queen La Beale\nIsoud, ye shall wit well that I love her above all other ladies of the\nworld; and well I wot it shall befal me as for her love as befel to the\nnoble knight Sir Kehidius, that died for the love of La Beale Isoud;\nand now, Sir Tristram, I will that ye wit that I have loved La Beale\nIsoud many a day, and she hath been the causer of my worship. And else\nI had been the most simplest knight in the world. For by her, and\nbecause of her, I have won the worship that I have: for when I\nremembered me of La Beale Isoud, I wan the worship wheresoever I came,\nfor the most part; and yet had I never reward nor bounty of her the\ndays of my life, and yet have I been her knight guerdonless; and\ntherefore Sir Tristram, as for any death I dread not, for I had as lief\ndie as to live. And if I were armed as thou art, I should lightly do\nbattle with thee. Well have ye uttered your treason, said Tristram. I\nhave done to you no treason, said Sir Palamides, for love is free for\nall men, and though I have loved your lady she is my lady as well as\nyours: howbeit I have wrong if any wrong be, for ye rejoice her, and\nhave her love, and so had I never, nor never am like to have. And yet\nshall I love her to the uttermost days of my life as well as ye.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXXVII.\n\n_How there was a day set between Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides for to\n fight, and how Sir Tristram was hurt._\n\nThen, said Sir Tristram, I will fight with you unto the uttermost. I\ngrant, said Palamides, for in a better quarrel keep I never to fight,\nfor, and I die of your hands, of a better knight\u2019s hands may I not be\nslain. And sithen I understand that I shall never rejoice La Beale\nIsoud, I have as good will to die as to live. Then set ye a day, said\nSir Tristram, that we shall do battle. This day fifteen days, said\nPalamides, will I meet with you here by, in the meadow under Joyous\nGard. Fie for shame, said Sir Tristram, will ye set so long day? let us\nfight to-morn. Not so, said Palamides, for I am meagre, and have been\nlong sick for the love of La Beale Isoud, and therefore I will repose\nme till I have my strength again. So then Sir Tristram and Sir\nPalamides promised faithfully to meet at the well that day fifteen\ndays. I am remembered, said Sir Tristram to Palamides, that ye brake me\nonce a promise when that I rescued you from Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9 and nine\nknights, and then ye promised me to meet at the peron and the grave\nbeside Camelot, whereas at that time ye failed of your promise. Wit you\nwell, said Palamides unto Sir Tristram, I was at that day in prison, so\nthat I might not hold my promise. Truly, said Sir Tristram, and ye had\nholden your promise, this work had not been here now at this time.\nRight so departed Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides. And so Sir Palamides\ntook his horse and his harness, and he rode unto king Arthur\u2019s court,\nand there Sir Palamides gat him four knights and four serjeants of\narms, and so he returned againward unto Joyous Gard. And in the mean\nwhile Sir Tristram chased and hunted at all manner of venery, and about\nthree days afore the battle should be, as Sir Tristram chased an hart,\nthere was an archer shot at the hart, and by misfortune he smote Sir\nTristram in the thick of the thigh, and the arrow slew Sir Tristram\u2019s\nhorse, and hurt him. When Sir Tristram was so hurt, he was passing\nheavy, and wit ye well he bled sore. And then he took another horse,\nand rode unto Joyous Gard with great heaviness, more for the promise he\nhad made with Sir Palamides, as to do battle with him within three days\nafter, than for any hurt of his thigh. Wherefore there was neither man\nnor woman that could cheer him with anything that they could make to\nhim, neither queen La Beale Isoud, for ever he deemed that Sir\nPalamides had smitten him so that he should not be able to do battle\nwith him at the day set.\n\n\n CHAP. LXXXVIII.\n\n_How Sir Palamides kept his day to have foughten, but Sir Tristram\n might not come; and other things._\n\nBut in no wise there was no knight about Sir Tristram that would\nbelieve that ever Sir Palamides would hurt Sir Tristram, neither by his\nown hands nor by none other consenting. Then when the fifteenth day was\ncome, Sir Palamides came to the well with four knights with him of\nArthur\u2019s court, and three serjeants of arms. And for this intent Sir\nPalamides brought the knights with him and the serjeants of arms, for\nthey should bear record of the battle betwixt Sir Tristram and Sir\nPalamides. And the one serjeant brought in his helm, the other his\nspear, the third his sword. So thus Sir Palamides came into the field,\nand there he abode nigh two hours. And then he sent a squire unto Sir\nTristram, and desired him to come into the field to hold his promise.\nWhen the squire was come to Joyous Gard, anon as Sir Tristram heard of\nhis coming, he let command that the squire should come to his presence\nthere as he lay in his bed. My lord Sir Tristram, said Palamides\u2019\nsquire, wit you well, my lord Palamides abideth you in the field, and\nhe would wit whether ye would do battle or not. Ah, my fair brother,\nsaid Sir Tristram, wit thou well that I am right heavy for these\ntidings, therefore tell Sir Palamides and I were well at ease I would\nnot lie here, nor he should have no need to send for me, and I might\neither ride or go: and for thou shalt say that I am no liar\u2014Sir\nTristram shewed him his thigh, that the wound was six inches deep:\u2014And\nnow thou hast seen my hurt, tell thy lord that this is no feigned\nmatter; and tell him that I had lever than all the gold of king Arthur\nthat I were whole: and tell Palamides, as soon as I am whole I shall\nseek him endlong and overthwart, and that I promise you as I am true\nknight: and if ever I may meet with him he shall have battle of me his\nfill. And with this the squire departed. And when Sir Palamides wist\nthat Tristram was hurt, he was glad, and said, Now I am sure I shall\nhave no shame, for I wot well I should have had hard handling of him,\nand by likely I must needs have had the worse. For he is the hardest\nknight in battle that now is living except Sir Launcelot. And then\ndeparted Sir Palamides where as fortune led him. And within a month Sir\nTristram was whole of his hurt. And then he took his horse, and rode\nfrom country to country, and all strange adventures he achieved\nwheresoever he rode, and always he enquired for Sir Palamides, but of\nall that quarter of summer Sir Tristram could never meet with Sir\nPalamides. But thus as Sir Tristram sought and enquired after Sir\nPalamides, Sir Tristram achieved many great battles, wherethrough all\nthe noise fell to Sir Tristram, and it ceased of Sir Launcelot; and\ntherefore Sir Launcelot\u2019s brethren and his kinsmen would have slain Sir\nTristram, because of his fame. But when Sir Launcelot wist how his\nkinsmen were set, he said to them openly, Wit you well, that and the\nenvy of you all be so hardy to wait upon my lord Sir Tristram with any\nhurt, shame, or villainy, as I am true knight I shall slay the best of\nyou with mine own hands. Alas, fie for shame, should ye for his noble\ndeeds await upon him to slay him. Jesu defend, said Launcelot, that\never any noble knight as Sir Tristram is should be destroyed with\ntreason. Of this noise and fame sprang into Cornwall, and among them of\nLiones, whereof they were passing glad and made great joy. And then\nthey of Liones sent letters unto Sir Tristram of recommendation, and\nmany great gifts to maintain Sir Tristram\u2019s estate. And ever between\nSir Tristram resorted unto Joyous Gard, where as La Beale Isoud was,\nthat loved him as her life.\n\n Here endeth the tenthe book which is of syr Tristram.\n\n And here foloweth the Enleuenth book whiche is of sir launcelot.\n\n\n\n\n The Eleventh Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot rode on his adventure, and how he holpe a dolorous\n lady from her pain, and how that he fought with a dragon._\n\nNow leave we Sir Tristram de Liones, and speak we of Sir Launcelot du\nLake, and Sir Galahad, Sir Launcelot\u2019s son, how he was born, and in\nwhat manner, as the book of French rehearseth. Afore the time that Sir\nGalahad was born, there came in an hermit unto king Arthur, upon\nWhitsunday, as the knights sat at the Table Round. And when the hermit\nsaw the siege perilous, he asked the king and all the knights why that\nsiege was void. Sir Arthur and all the knights answered, There shall\nnever none sit in that siege but one, but if he be destroyed. Then,\nsaid the hermit, wot ye what is he? Nay, said Arthur and all the\nknights, we wot not who is he that shall sit therein. Then wot I, said\nthe hermit, for he that shall sit there is unborn, and this same year\nhe shall be born that shall sit there in that siege perilous, and he\nshall win the Sangreal. When this hermit had made this mention he\ndeparted from the court of king Arthur. And then after this feast Sir\nLauncelot rode on his adventures, till on a time by adventure he passed\nover the bridge of Corbin, and there he saw the fairest tower that ever\nhe saw, and thereunder was a fair town full of people, and all the\npeople, men and women, cried at once. Welcome Sir Launcelot du Lake,\nthe flower of all knighthood, for by thee all we shall be holpen out of\ndanger. What mean ye, said Sir Launcelot, that ye cry so upon me? Ah,\nfair knight, said they all, here is within this tower a dolorous lady\nthat hath been there in pains many winters: for ever she boileth in\nscalding water. And but late, said all the people, Sir Gawaine was\nhere, and he might not help her, and so he left her in pain. So may I,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, leave her in pain as well as Sir Gawaine did. Nay,\nsaid the people, we know well that it is Sir Launcelot that shall\ndeliver her. Well, said Launcelot, then show me what I shall do. Then\nthey brought Sir Launcelot into the tower. And when he came to the\nchamber there as this lady was, the doors of iron unlocked and\nunbolted. And so Sir Launcelot went into the chamber that was as hot as\nany stew, and there Sir Launcelot took the fairest lady by the hand\nthat ever he saw, and she was naked as a needle, and by enchantment\nqueen Morgan le Fay and the queen of Northgalis had put her there in\nthat pains because she was called the fairest lady of that country. And\nthere she had been five years, and never might she be delivered out of\nher great pains unto the time the best knight of the world had taken\nher by the hand. Then the people brought her clothes. And when she was\narrayed, Sir Launcelot thought she was the fairest lady of the world,\nbut if it were queen Guenever. Then this lady said to Sir Launcelot,\nSir, if it please you will ye go with me hereby into a chapel that we\nmay give loving and thanking to God? Madam, said Sir Launcelot, cometh\non with me, I will go with you. So when they came there, and gave\nthankings to God, all the people, both learned and lay, gave thankings\nunto God and him, and said, Sir knight, since ye have delivered this\nlady, ye shall deliver us from a serpent that is here in a tomb. Then\nSir Launcelot took his shield, and said, Bring me thither, and what I\nmay do unto the pleasure of God and you, I will do. So when Sir\nLauncelot came thither, he saw written upon the tomb letters of gold\nthat said thus: Here shall come a libbard of king\u2019s blood and he shall\nslay this serpent, and this libbard shall engender a lion in this\nforeign country, the which lion shall pass all other knights. So then\nSir Launcelot lift up the tomb, and there came out an horrible and a\nfiendly dragon spitting fire out of his mouth. Then Sir Launcelot drew\nout his sword and fought with the dragon long, and at last with great\npain Sir Launcelot slew that dragon. Therewithal came king Pelles, the\ngood and noble knight, and saluted Sir Launcelot, and he him again.\nFair knight, said the king, what is your name? I require you of your\nknighthood tell me.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot came to Pelles, and of the Sangreal, and of Elaine,\n king Pelles\u2019 daughter._\n\nSir, said Launcelot, wit you well my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake. And\nmy name is, said the king, Pelles, king of the foreign country, and\ncousin nigh unto Joseph of Arimathie. And then either of them made much\nof other, and so they went into the castle to take their repast. And\nanon there came in a dove at a window, and in her mouth there seemed a\nlittle censer of gold. And therewithal there was such a savour as all\nthe spicery of the world had been there. And forthwithal there was upon\nthe table all manner of meats and drinks that they could think upon. So\ncame in a damsel passing fair and young, and she bare a vessel of gold\nbetwixt her hands, and thereto the king kneeled devoutly, and said his\nprayers, and so did all that were there. Then said Sir Launcelot, What\nmay this mean? This is, said the king, the richest thing that any man\nhath living. And when this thing goeth about, the Round Table shall be\nbroken. And wit thou well, said the king, this is the holy Sancgreal\nthat ye have here seen. So the king and Sir Launcelot led their life\nthe most part of that day. And fain would king Pelles have found the\nmean to have had Sir Launcelot to love his daughter fair Elaine, and\nfor this intent: the king knew well that Sir Launcelot should have a\nchild by his daughter, the which should be named Sir Galahad, the good\nknight, by whom all the foreign country should be brought out of\ndanger, and by him the holy Graale should be achieved. Then came forth\na lady that hight dame Brisen, and she said unto the king, Sir, wit ye\nwell, Sir Launcelot loveth no lady in the world but all only queen\nGuenever, and therefore work ye by counsel, and I shall make him to see\nyour daughter Elaine, and he shall not wit but that he seeth queen\nGuenever. Oh, fair lady, dame Brisen, said the king, hope ye to bring\nthis about? Sir, said she, upon pain of my life let me deal. For this\nBrisen was one of the greatest enchantresses that was that time in the\nworld living.\n\nThen anon by dame Brisen\u2019s wit she made one to come to Sir Launcelot\nthat he knew well. And this man brought him a ring from queen Guenever\nlike as it had come from her, and such one as she was wont for the most\npart to wear. And when Sir Launcelot saw that token, wit ye well he was\nnever so fain. Where is my lady? said Sir Launcelot. She is in the\ncastle of Case, said the messager, but five mile hence. Then Sir\nLauncelot thought to be there the same night. And then this Brisen, by\nthe commandment of king Pelles, let send Elaine to this castle with\ntwenty-five knights unto the castle of Case. Then Sir Launcelot rode\nunto that castle, and there anon he was received worshipfully with such\npeople to his seeming as were about queen Guenever. So when Sir\nLauncelot was alight, then dame Brisen brought him a cup full of wine,\nand as soon as he had drank that wine he was so assotted that he wend\nthat maiden Elaine had been queen Guenever. Wit ye well that Sir\nLauncelot was glad, and so was that lady Elaine, for well she knew that\nof them should be born Sir Galahad, that should prove the best knight\nof the world. And then Sir Launcelot remembered him, and he arose up\nand went to the window.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot was displeased when he knew that he had been\n deceived, and how Galahad was born._\n\nAnd anon as he had unshut the window, the enchantment was gone, then he\nknew himself that he had been deceived. Alas, said he, that I have\nlived so long; now am I shamed. So then he gat his sword in his hand,\nand said, Thou traitress, who art thou? thou shalt die right here of my\nhands. Then this fair lady, Elaine, kneeled down afore Sir Launcelot\nand said, Fair courteous knight, come of king\u2019s blood, I require you\nhave mercy upon me; and as thou art renowned the most noble knight of\nthe world, slay me not, for I shall have a son by thee that shall be\nthe most noblest knight of the world. Ah, false traitress, said Sir\nLauncelot, why hast thou betrayed me? Anon tell me what thou art. Sir,\nshe said, I am Elaine, the daughter of king Pelles. Well, said Sir\nLauncelot, I will forgive you this deed. And therewith he took her up\nin his arms and kissed her, for she was as fair a lady, and thereto\nyoung, and as wise as any was that time living. Truly, said Sir\nLauncelot, I may not blame this to you, but her that made this\nenchantment upon me, as between you and me; and I may find her, that\nsame lady Brisen, she shall lose her head for witchcraft, for there was\nnever knight deceived so as I am. And so Sir Launcelot armed him, and\ntook his leave mildly at that lady, young Elaine, and so he departed.\nThen she said, My lord Sir Launcelot, I beseech you see me as soon as\nyou may, for I have obeyed me unto the prophecy that my father told me,\nand by his commandment to fulfil this prophecy I have given the\ngreatest riches and the fairest flower that ever I had, and that is my\nmaiden love and faith, and therefore, gentle knight, owe me your good\nwill. And so Sir Launcelot arrayed him, and was armed, and took his\nleave mildly of that young lady Elaine, and so he departed, and rode\ntill he came to the castle of Corbin where her father was. And as soon\nas her time came she was delivered of a fair child, and they christened\nhim Galahad. And wit ye well that child was well kept and well\nnourished, and he was named Galahad, because Sir Launcelot was so named\nat the fontain stone; and after that, the Lady of the lake confirmed\nhim Sir Launcelot du Lake. Then after this lady was delivered and\nchurched there came a knight unto her, his name was Sir Bromel la\nPleche, the which was a great lord, and he had loved that lady long,\nand he evermore desired her to wed her, and so by no means she could\nput him off, till on a day she said to Sir Bromel, Wit thou well, sir\nknight, I will not love you, for my love is set upon the best knight of\nthe world. Who is he? said Sir Bromel. Sir, said she, it is Sir\nLauncelot du Lake that I love, and none other, and therefore woo me no\nlonger. Ye say well, said Sir Bromel, and since ye have told me so\nmuch, ye shall have but little joy of Sir Launcelot, for I shall slay\nhim wheresoever I meet him. Sir, said the lady Elaine, do to him no\ntreason. Wit ye well, my lady, said Bromel, and I promise you this\ntwelvemonth I shall keep the bridge of Corbin for Sir Launcelot\u2019s sake,\nthat he shall neither come nor go unto you but I shall meet with him.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How Sir Bors came to dame Elaine, and saw Galahad, and how he was fed\n with the Sangreal._\n\nThen, as it befel by fortune and adventure, Sir Bors de Ganis, that was\nnephew unto Sir Launcelot, came over that bridge, and there Sir Bromel\nand Sir Bors justed, and Sir Bors smote Sir Bromel such a buffet that\nhe bare him over his horse croup. And then Sir Bromel, as an hardy\nknight, pulled out his sword and dressed his shield, to do battle with\nSir Bors. And then Sir Bors alight and avoided his horse, and there\nthey dashed together many sad strokes, and long thus they fought, till\nat the last Sir Bromel was laid to the earth, and there Sir Bors began\nto unlace his helm to slay him. Then Sir Bromel cried Sir Bors\u2019 mercy,\nand yielded him. Upon this covenant thou shalt have thy life, said Sir\nBors, so thou go unto Sir Launcelot upon Whitsunday that next cometh,\nand yield thee unto him as knight recreant. I will do it, said Sir\nBromel: and that he sware upon the cross of the sword, and so he let\nhim depart. And Sir Bors rode unto king Pelles that was within Corbin.\nAnd when the king and Elaine his daughter wist that Sir Bors was nephew\nunto Sir Launcelot, they made him great cheer. Then said dame Elaine,\nWe marvel where Sir Launcelot is, for he came never here but once.\nMarvel not, said Sir Bors, for this half year he hath been in prison\nwith queen Morgan le Fay, king Arthur\u2019s sister. Alas, said dame Elaine,\nthat me repenteth. And ever Sir Bors beheld that child in her arms, and\never him seemed it was passing like Sir Launcelot. Truly, said dame\nElaine, wit ye well this is his child. Then Sir Bors wept for joy, and\nhe prayed to God it might prove as good a knight as his father was. And\nso came in a white dove, and she bare a little censer of gold in her\nmouth, and there was all manner of meats and drinks, and a maiden bare\nthat Sancgreal, and she said openly, Wit you well Sir Bors that this\nchild is Galahad, that shall sit in the siege perilous, and achieve the\nSancgreal, and he shall be much better than ever was Sir Launcelot du\nLake, that is his own father. And then they kneeled down and made their\ndevotions, and there was such a savour as all the spicery in the world\nhad been there. And when the dove took her flight, the maiden vanished\nwith the Sancgreal as she came. Sir, said Sir Bors unto king Pelles,\nthis castle may be named the castle adventurous, for here be many\nstrange adventures. That is soth, said the king. For well may this\nplace be called the adventurous place, for there come but few knights\nhere that go away with any worship; be he never so strong, here he may\nbe proved, and but late Sir Gawaine the good knight gat but little\nworship here. For I let you wit, said king Pelles, here shall no knight\nwin no worship but if he be of worship himself, and of good living, and\nthat loveth God, and dreadeth God, and else he getteth no worship here,\nbe he never so hardy. That is a wonderful thing, said Sir Bors. What ye\nmean in this country I wot not, for ye have many strange adventures,\nand therefore I will lie in this castle this night. Ye shall not do so,\nsaid king Pelles, by my counsel, for it is hard and ye escape without a\nshame. I shall take the adventure that will befal me, said Sir Bors.\nThen I counsel you, said the king, to be confessed clean. As for that,\nsaid Sir Bors, I will be shriven with a good will. So Sir Bors was\nconfessed, and for all women Sir Bors was a virgin, save for one, that\nwas the daughter of king Brangoris, and their child hight Helin, and\nsave for her Sir Bors was a pure maiden. And so he was led unto bed in\na fair large chamber, and many doors were shut about the chamber. When\nSir Bors espied all those doors, he avoided all the people, for he\nmight have nobody with him; but in no wise Sir Bors would unarm him,\nbut so he laid him down upon the bed. And right so he saw come in a\nlight that he might well see a spear great and long, that came straight\nupon him pointling, and to Sir Bors seemed that the head of the spear\nburnt like a taper. And anon, or Sir Bors wist, the spear head smote\nhim into the shoulder an hand breadth in deepness, and that wound\ngrieved Sir Bors passing sore. And then he laid him down again for\npain, and anon therewithal came a knight armed with his shield on his\nshoulder, and his sword in his hand, and he bad Sir Bors, Arise sir\nknight, and fight with me. I am sore hurt, he said, but yet I shall not\nfail thee. And then Sir Bors start up and dressed his shield, and then\nthey lashed together mightily a great while. And at the last Sir Bors\nbare him backward, until that he came unto a chamber door, and there\nthat knight went into that chamber, and rested him a great while. And\nwhen he had reposed him he came out freshly again, and began new battle\nwith Sir Bors mightily and strongly.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How Sir Bors made Sir Pedivere to yield him, and of marvellous\n adventures that he had, and how he achieved them._\n\nThen Sir Bors thought he should no more go into that chamber to rest\nhim, and so Sir Bors dressed him betwixt the knight and that chamber\ndoor, and there Sir Bors smote him down, and then that knight yielded\nhim. What is your name? said Sir Bors. Sir, said he, my name is\nPedivere of the Straight Marches. So Sir Bors made him to swear at\nWhitsunday next coming to be at the court of king Arthur and yield him\nthere as a prisoner, as an overcome knight by the hands of Sir Bors. So\nthus departed Sir Pedivere of the Straight Marches. And then Sir Bors\nlaid him down to rest, and then he heard and felt much noise in that\nchamber; and then Sir Bors espied that there came in, he wist not\nwhether at the doors or windows, shot of arrows and of quarels, so\nthick that he marvelled, and many fell upon him and hurt him in the\nbare places. And then Sir Bors was ware where came in an hideous lion;\nso Sir Bors dressed him unto the lion, and anon the lion bereft him of\nhis shield, and with his sword Sir Bors smote off the lion\u2019s head.\n\nRight so Sir Bors forthwithal saw a dragon in the court, passing\nhorrible, and there seemed letters of gold written in his forehead; and\nSir Bors thought that the letters made a signification of king Arthur.\nRight so there came an horrible libard and an old, and there they\nfought long, and did great battle together. And at the last the dragon\nspit out of his mouth as it had been an hundred dragons, and lightly\nall the small dragons slew the old dragon, and tare him all to pieces.\nAnon withal there came an old man into the hall, and he sat him down in\na fair chair, and there seemed to be two adders about his neck, and\nthen the old man had an harp, and there he sang an old song, how Joseph\nof Aramathie came into this land. Then when he had sung, the old man\nbad Sir Bors\u2014Go from thence, for here shall ye have no more\nadventures, and full worshipfully have ye done, and better shall ye do\nhereafter. And then Sir Bors seemed that there came the whitest dove\nwith a little golden censer in her mouth; and anon therewithal the\ntempest ceased and passed that afore was marvellous to hear. So was all\nthat court full of good savours. Then Sir Bors saw four children\nbearing four fair tapers, and an old man in the midst of the children\nwith a censer in his one hand, and a spear in his other hand, and that\nspear was called the spear of vengeance.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How Sir Bors departed; and how Sir Launcelot was rebuked of queen\n Guenever, and of his excuse._\n\nNow, said that old man to Sir Bors, go ye to your cousin Sir Launcelot,\nand tell him of this adventure, the which had been most convenient for\nhim of all earthly knights, but sin is so foul in him he may not\nachieve such holy deeds; for, had not been his sin, he had passed all\nthe knights that ever were in his days. And tell thou Sir Launcelot, of\nall worldly adventures he passeth in manhood and prowess all other, but\nin these spiritual matters he shall have many his better. And then Sir\nBors saw four gentlewomen coming by him poorly beseen, and he saw where\nthat they entered into a chamber where was great light, as it were a\nsummer light, and the women kneeled down afore an altar of silver with\nfour pillars, and as it had been a bishop kneeled down afore that table\nof silver. And as Sir Bors looked over his head, he saw a sword like\nsilver, naked, hoving over his head, and the clearness thereof smote so\nin his eyes that at that time Sir Bors was blind, and there he heard a\nvoice that said, Go hence, thou Sir Bors, for as yet thou art not\nworthy for to be in this place. And then he went backward to his bed\ntill on the morn. And on the morn king Pelles made great joy of Sir\nBors, and then he departed and rode to Camelot, and there he found Sir\nLauncelot du Lake, and told him of the adventures he had seen with king\nPelles at Corbin. So the noise sprang in king Arthur\u2019s court that Sir\nLauncelot had a child by Elaine, the daughter of king Pelles, wherefore\nqueen Guenever was wroth and gave many rebukes to Sir Launcelot, and\ncalled him false knight. And then Sir Launcelot told the queen all, and\nhow he was made to meet her by enchantment, in likeness of the queen.\nSo the queen held Sir Launcelot excused. And, as the book saith, king\nArthur had been in France, and had made war upon the mighty king\nClaudas, and had won much of his lands; and when the king was come\nagain he let cry a great feast, that all lords and ladies of all\nEngland should be there, but if it were such as were rebellious against\nhim.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How dame Elaine, Galahad\u2019s mother, came in great estate unto Camelot,\n and how Sir Launcelot behaved him there._\n\nAnd when dame Elaine, the daughter of king Pelles, heard of this feast,\nshe went to her father, and required him that he would give her leave\nto ride to that feast. The king answered, I will well ye go thither;\nbut in any wise, as ye love me and will have my blessing, that ye be\nwell beseen in the richest wise; and look that ye spare not for no\ncost; ask, and ye shall have all that you needeth. Then, by the advice\nof dame Brisen her maiden, all thing was apparelled unto the purpose,\nand there was never no lady more richlier beseen. So she rode with\ntwenty knights and ten ladies and gentlewomen to the number of an\nhundred horses. And when she came to Camelot, king Arthur and queen\nGuenever said, and all the knights, that dame Elaine was the fairest\nand the best beseen lady that ever was seen in that court.\n\nAnd anon as king Arthur wist that she was come, he met her and saluted\nher, and so did the most part of all the knights of the Round Table,\nboth Sir Tristram, Sir Bleoberis, and Sir Gawaine, and many more that I\nwill not rehearse. But when Sir Launcelot saw her he was so ashamed,\nand that because he drew his sword on her, that he would not salute her\nnor speak to her, and yet Sir Launcelot thought she was the fairest\nwoman that ever he saw in his life days. But when dame Elaine saw Sir\nLauncelot that would not speak to her, she was so heavy that she wend\nher heart would have to-brast. For wit ye well, out of measure she\nloved him. And then Elaine said unto her woman dame Brisen, The\nunkindness of Sir Launcelot slayeth me near. Ah peace, madam, said dame\nBrisen, I will undertake that he shall come to you, and ye would hold\nyou still. That were me lever, said dame Elaine, than all the gold that\nis above the earth. Let me deal, said dame Brisen. So when Elaine was\nbrought unto queen Guenever, either made other good cheer by\ncountenance, but nothing with hearts. But all men and women spake of\nthe beauty of dame Elaine, and of her great riches. Then the queen\ncommanded that dame Elaine should sleep in a chamber nigh unto her\nchamber, and all under one roof. And so it was done as the queen had\ncommanded. Then the queen sent for Sir Launcelot, and bid him come to\nher, or else, I am sure, said the queen, that ye will go to your lady,\ndame Elaine, by whom ye had Galahad. Ah, madam, said Sir Launcelot,\nnever say ye so; for that was against my will. Then, said the queen,\nlook that ye come to me when I send for you. Madam, said Sir Launcelot,\nI shall not fail you, but I shall be ready at your commandment. This\nbargain was soon done and made between them, but dame Brisen knew it by\nher crafts, and told it to her lady dame Elaine. Alas, said she, how\nshall I do. Let me deal, said dame Brisen, for I shall bring him by the\nhand, even to you, and he shall ween that I am queen Guenever\u2019s\nmessager. Now well is me, said dame Elaine, for all the world I love\nnot so much as I do Sir Launcelot.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How dame Brisen by enchantment brought Sir Launcelot to dame Elaine,\n and how queen Guenever rebuked him._\n\nSo then dame Brisen came to Sir Launcelot and said, Sir Launcelot du\nLake, my lady queen Guenever awaiteth upon you. O my fair lady, said\nSir Launcelot, I am ready to go with you where ye will have me. So Sir\nLauncelot took his sword in his hand, and then dame Brisen took him by\nthe finger and led him unto her lady, dame Elaine; and then she\ndeparted and left them together. Wit ye well the lady was glad, and so\nwas Sir Launcelot, for he wend that it was the queen. Then queen\nGuenever sent one of her women unto Sir Launcelot; and when she came\nthere, she found Sir Launcelot was away: so she came to the queen and\ntold her all. Alas, said the queen, where is that false knight become?\nThen the queen was nigh out of her wit, and then she writhed and\nweltered as a mad woman; and at the last the queen met with Sir\nLauncelot, and thus she said, False traitor knight that thou art, look\nthou never abide in my court, and not so hardy, thou false traitor\nknight that thou art, that ever thou come in my sight. Alas, said Sir\nLauncelot: and therewith he took such an heartly sorrow at her words\nthat he fell down to the floor in a swoon. And therewithal queen\nGuenever departed. And when Sir Launcelot awoke of his swoon he lept\nout at a bay window into a garden, and there with thorns he was all\nto-scratched in his visage and his body, and so he ran forth he wist\nnot whither, and was wild wood as ever was man; and so he ran two year,\nand never man might have grace to know him.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How dame Elaine was commanded by queen Guenever to avoid the court,\n and how Sir Launcelot became mad._\n\nNow turn we unto queen Guenever and to the fair lady Elaine. When dame\nElaine heard the queen so to rebuke Sir Launcelot, and also she saw how\nhe swooned, and how he lept out at a bay window, then she said unto\nqueen Guenever, Madam, ye are greatly to blame for Sir Launcelot, for\nnow ye have lost him; for I saw and heard by his countenance that he is\nmad for ever. Alas, madam, ye do great sin, and to yourself great\ndishonour, for ye have a lord of your own, and therefore it is your\npart to love him; for there is no queen in this world hath such another\nking as ye have. And if ye were not, I might have the love of my lord\nSir Launcelot; and cause I have to love him, for I am his, and by him I\nhave borne a fair son, and his name is Galahad, and he shall be in his\ntime the best knight of the world. Dame Elaine, said the queen, I\ncharge you and command you to avoid my court; and for the love ye owe\nunto Sir Launcelot discover not his counsel, for and ye do it will be\nhis death. As for that, said dame Elaine, I dare undertake he is marred\nfor ever, and that have ye made, for ye nor I are like to rejoice him;\nfor he made the most piteous groans when he lept out at yonder bay\nwindow that ever I heard man make. Alas! said fair Elaine, and alas!\nsaid the queen Guenever, for now I wot well we have lost him for ever.\nSo on the morn dame Elaine took her leave to depart, and she would no\nlonger abide. Then king Arthur brought her on her way with more than an\nhundred knights through a forest. And by the way she told Sir Bors de\nGanis all how it betid, and how Sir Launcelot lept out at a bay window\naraged out of his wit. Alas, said Sir Bors, where is my lord Sir\nLauncelot become? Sir, said Elaine, I wot never. Alas, said Sir Bors,\nbetwixt you both ye have destroyed that good knight. As for me, said\ndame Elaine, I said never nor did never thing that should in any wise\ndisplease him; but with the rebuke that queen Guenever gave him I saw\nhim swoon to the earth; and when he awoke he took his sword in his\nhand, and lept out at a window, with the grisliest groan that ever I\nheard man make. Now farewell, dame Elaine, said Sir Bors, and hold my\nlord Arthur with a tale as long as ye can, for I will turn again unto\nqueen Guenever and give her a heat: and I require you as ever ye will\nhave my service, make good watch, and espy if ever ye may see my lord\nSir Launcelot. Truly, said fair Elaine, I shall do all that I may do,\nfor as fain would I know and wit where he is become as you or any of\nhis kin, or queen Guenever, and cause great enough have I thereto as\nwell as any other. And wit ye well, said fair Elaine to Sir Bors, I\nwould lose my life for him rather than he should be hurt: but alas, I\ncast me never for to see him; and the chief causer of this is dame\nGuenever. Madam, said dame Brisen, the which had made the enchantment\nbefore betwixt Sir Launcelot and her, I pray you heartily let Sir Bors\ndepart and hie him with all his might, as fast as he may, to seek Sir\nLauncelot. For I warn you he is clean out of his mind, and yet he shall\nbe well holpen, and but by miracle. Then wept dame Elaine, and so did\nSir Bors de Ganis, and so they departed; and Sir Bors rode straight\nunto queen Guenever, and when she saw Sir Bors she wept as she were\nwood. Fie on your weeping, said Sir Bors, for ye weep never but when\nthere is no boot. Alas, said Sir Bors, that ever Sir Launcelot\u2019s kin\nsaw you. For now have ye lost the best knight of our blood, and he that\nwas all our leader and our succour. And I dare say and make it good,\nthat all kings, christian nor heathen, may not find such a knight, for\nto speak of his nobleness and courtesy with his beauty and his\ngentleness. Alas, said Sir Bors, what shall we do that be of his blood?\nAlas, said Ector de Maris. Alas, said Lionel.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_What sorrow queen Guenever made for Sir Launcelot, and how he was\n sought by knights of his kin._\n\nAnd when the queen heard them say so, she fell to the earth in a dead\nswoon. And then Sir Bors took her up, and roused her, and when she was\nawaked she kneeled afore the three knights, and held up both her hands,\nand besought them to seek him, and spare not for no goods but that he\nbe founden, for I wot he is out of his mind. And Sir Bors, Sir Ector,\nand Sir Lionel departed from the queen, for they might not abide no\nlonger for sorrow. And then the queen sent them treasure enough for\ntheir expenses, and so they took their horses and their armour, and\ndeparted. And then they rode from country to country, in forests and in\nwildernesses and in wastes, and ever they laid watch as well both at\nforests and at all manner of men as they rode, to hearken and enquire\nafter him, as he that was a naked man in his shirt, with a sword in his\nhand. And thus they rode nigh a quarter of a year, endlong and\noverthwart, in many places, forests and wildernesses, and ofttimes were\nevil lodged for his sake, and yet for all their labour and seeking\ncould they never hear word of him. And wit you well these three knights\nwere passing sorry. Then at the last Sir Bors and his fellows met with\na knight, that hight Sir Melion de Tartare. Now, fair knight, said Sir\nBors, whither be ye away? for they knew either other aforetime. Sir,\nsaid Sir Melion, I am in the way toward the court of king Arthur. Then\nwe pray you, said Sir Bors, that ye will tell my lord Arthur, and my\nlady queen Guenever, and all the fellowship of the Round Table, that we\ncannot in no wise hear tell where Sir Launcelot is become. Then Sir\nMelion departed from them, and said that he would tell the king and the\nqueen and all the fellowship of the Round Table, as they had desired\nhim. So when Sir Melion came to the court of king Arthur, he told the\nking and the queen and all the fellowship of the Round Table, what Sir\nBors had said of Sir Launcelot. Then Sir Gawaine, Sir Uwaine, Sir\nSagramor le Desirous, Sir Aglovale, and Sir Percivale de Galis, took\nupon them by the great desire of king Arthur, and in especial by the\nqueen, to seek throughout all England, Wales, and Scotland, to find Sir\nLauncelot. And with them rode eighteen knights more to bear them\nfellowship. And wit ye well they lacked no manner of spending: and so\nwere they three and twenty knights.\n\nNow turn we to Sir Launcelot, and speak we of his care and woe and what\npain he there endured, for cold, hunger, and thirst he had plenty. And\nthus as these noble knights rode together, they by one assent departed,\nand then they rode by two, by three, and by four, and by five; and ever\nthey assigned where they should meet. And so Sir Aglovale and Sir\nPercivale rode together unto their mother that was a queen in those\ndays. And when she saw her two sons, for joy she wept tenderly. And\nthen she said, Ah, my dear sons, when your father was slain he left me\nfour sons, of the which now be twain slain; and for the death of my\nnoble son Sir Lamorak shall my heart never be glad. And then she\nkneeled down upon her knees tofore Aglovale and Sir Percivale, and\nbesought them to abide at home with her. Ah, sweet mother, said Sir\nPercivale, we may not; for we be come of king\u2019s blood of both parties,\nand therefore, mother, it is our kind to haunt arms and noble deeds.\nAlas, my sweet sons, then she said, for your sakes I shall lose my\nliking and joy, and then wind and weather I may not endure, what for\nthe death of your father king Pellinore, that was shamefully slain by\nthe hands of Sir Gawaine and his brother Sir Gaheris, and they slew him\nnot manly, but by treason. Ah, my dear sons, this is a piteous\ncomplaint for me of your father\u2019s death, considering also the death of\nSir Lamorak, that of knighthood had but few fellows. Now, my dear sons,\nhave this in your mind. Then there was but weeping and sobbing in the\ncourt when they should depart, and she fell in swooning in midst of the\ncourt.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How a servant of Sir Aglovale\u2019s was slain, and what vengeance Sir\n Aglovale and Sir Percivale did therefore._\n\nAnd when she was awaked she sent a squire after them with spending\nenough. And so when the squire had overtaken them, they would not\nsuffer him to ride with them, but sent him home again to comfort their\nmother, praying her meekly of her blessing. And so this squire was\nbenighted, and by misfortune he happened to come unto a castle where\ndwelled a baron. And so when the squire was come into the castle, the\nlord asked him from whence he came, and whom he served? My lord, said\nthe squire, I serve a good knight that is called Sir Aglovale. The\nsquire said it to good intent, weening unto him to have been more\nforborne for Sir Aglovale\u2019s sake than if he had said he had served the\nqueen, Aglovale\u2019s mother. Well, my fellow, said the lord of that\ncastle, for Sir Aglovale\u2019s sake thou shalt have evil lodging, for\nAglovale slew my brother, and therefore thou shalt die on part of\npayment. And then that lord commanded his men to have him away, and so\npulled him out of the castle, and there they slew him without mercy.\nRight so on the morn came Sir Aglovale and Sir Percivale riding by a\nchurch-yard, where men and women were busy, and beheld the dead squire,\nand they thought to bury him. What is there, said Sir Aglovale, that ye\nbehold so fast? A good man start forth and said, Fair knight, here\nlieth a squire slain shamefully this night. How was he slain, fair\nfellow? said Sir Aglovale. My fair sir, said the man, the lord of this\ncastle lodged this squire this night, and because he said he was\nservant unto a good knight that is with king Arthur, his name is Sir\nAglovale, therefore the lord commanded to slay him, and for this cause\nis he slain. Gramercy, said Sir Aglovale, and ye shall see his death\nrevenged lightly, for I am that same knight for whom this squire was\nslain. Then Sir Aglovale called unto him Sir Percivale, and bad him\nalight lightly, and so they alight both, and betook their horses to\ntheir men, and so they went on foot into the castle. And all so soon as\nthey were within the castle gate Sir Aglovale bad the porter, Go thou\nunto thy lord and tell him that I am Sir Aglovale, for whom this squire\nwas slain this night. Anon the porter told this to his lord, whose name\nwas Goodewin: anon he armed him, and then he came into the court and\nsaid, Which of you is Sir Aglovale? Here I am, said Aglovale: for what\ncause slewest thou this night my mother\u2019s squire? I slew him, said Sir\nGoodewin, because of thee; for thou slewest my brother Sir Gawdelin. As\nfor thy brother, said Sir Aglovale, I avow it, I slew him, for he was a\nfalse knight and a betrayer of ladies and of good knights; and for the\ndeath of my squire thou shalt die. I defy thee, said Sir Goodewin. Then\nthey lashed together as eagerly as it had been two lions: and Sir\nPercivale he fought with all the remnant that would fight. And within a\nwhile Sir Percivale had slain all that would withstand him; for Sir\nPercivale dealt so his strokes that were so rude that there durst no\nman abide him. And within a while Sir Aglovale had Sir Goodewin at the\nearth, and there he unlaced his helm and strake off his head. And then\nthey departed and took their horses. And then they let carry the dead\nsquire unto a priory, and there they interred him.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How Sir Percivale departed secretly from his brother, and how he\n loosed a knight bound with a chain, and of other things._\n\nAnd when this was done, they rode into many countries, ever enquiring\nafter Sir Launcelot, but never they could hear of him. And at the last\nthey came to a castle that hight Cardican, and there Sir Percivale and\nSir Aglovale were lodged together, and privily about midnight Sir\nPercivale came to Aglovale\u2019s squire, and said, Arise and make thee\nready, for ye and I will ride away secretly. Sir, said the squire, I\nwould full fain ride with you where ye would have me, but, and my lord\nyour brother take me, he will slay me. As for that care thou not, for I\nshall be thy warrant. And so Sir Percivale rode till it was afternoon,\nand then he came upon a bridge of stone, and there he found a knight\nthat was bounden with a chain fast about the waist unto a pillar of\nstone. O fair knight, said that bounden knight, I require thee loose me\nof my bonds. What knight are ye? said Sir Percivale, and for what cause\nare ye so bounden? Sir, I shall tell you, said that knight; I am a\nknight of the Table Round, and my name is Sir Persides, and thus by\nadventure I came this way, and here I lodged in this castle at the\nbridge foot, and therein dwelleth an uncourteous lady, and because she\nproffered me to be her paramour and I refused her, she set her men upon\nme suddenly or ever I might come to my weapon, and thus they bound me,\nand here I wot well I shall die, but if some man of worship break my\nbands. Be ye of good cheer, said Sir Percivale, and because ye are a\nknight of the Round Table as well as I, I trust to God to break your\nbands. And therewith Sir Percivale drew out his sword, and strake at\nthe chain with such a might that he cut a-two the chain, and through\nSir Persides\u2019 hauberk, and hurt him a little. Truly, said Sir Persides,\nthat was a mighty stroke as ever I felt one, for had not the chain\nbeen, ye had slain me. And therewithal Sir Persides saw a knight coming\nout of the castle all that ever he might flying. Beware Sir, said Sir\nPersides, yonder cometh a man that will have ado with you. Let him\ncome, said Sir Percivale, and so he met with that knight in the midst\nof the bridge, and Sir Percivale gave him such a buffet that he smote\nhim quite from his horse, and over a part of the bridge, that had not\nbeen a little vessel under the bridge that knight had been drowned. And\nthen Sir Percivale took the knight\u2019s horse, and made Sir Persides to\nmount upon him, and so they rode unto the castle, and bad the lady\ndeliver Sir Persides\u2019 servants, or else he would slay all that ever he\nfound. And so for fear she delivered them all. Then was Sir Percivale\nware of a lady that stood in that tower. Ah, madam, said Sir Percivale,\nwhat use and custom is that in a lady to destroy good knights but if\nthey will be your paramour? forsooth this is a shameful custom of a\nlady. And if I had not a great matter in my hand, I should foredo your\nevil customs. And so Sir Persides brought Sir Percivale unto his own\ncastle, and there he made him great cheer all that night. And on the\nmorn, when Sir Percivale had heard mass and broken his fast, he bad Sir\nPersides, Ride unto king Arthur, and tell the king how that ye met with\nme, and tell my brother Sir Aglovale how I rescued you, and bid him\nseek not after me, for I am in the quest to seek Sir Launcelot du Lake.\nAnd though he seek me he shall not find me, and tell him I will never\nsee him, nor the court, till I have found Sir Launcelot. Also tell Sir\nKay the seneschal, and to Sir Mordred, that I trust to God to be of as\ngreat worthiness as either of them. For tell them I shall never forget\ntheir mocks and scorns that they did to me that day that I was made\nknight. And tell them I will never see that court till men speak more\nworship of me than ever men did of any of them both. And so Sir\nPersides departed from Sir Percivale, and then he rode unto king\nArthur, and told there of Sir Percivale. And when Sir Aglovale heard\nhim speak of his brother Sir Percivale, he said, He departed from me\nunkindly. Sir, said Sir Persides, on my life he shall prove a noble\nknight as any now is living. And when he saw Sir Kay and Sir Mordred,\nSir Persides said thus: My fair lords both, Sir Percivale greeteth you\nwell both, and he sent you word by me that he trusteth to God or ever\nhe come to the court again to be of as great nobleness as ever were ye\nboth, and more men to speak of his nobleness than ever they did you. It\nmay well be, said Sir Kay and Sir Mordred, but at that time when he was\nmade knight he was full unlikely to prove a good knight. As for that,\nsaid king Arthur, he must needs prove a good knight, for his father and\nhis brethren were noble knights.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_How Sir Percivale met with Sir Ector, and how they fought long, and\n each had almost slain other._\n\nAnd now will we turn unto Sir Percivale that rode long, and in a forest\nhe met a knight with a broken shield and a broken helm, and as soon as\neither saw other readily, they made them ready to just, and so hurtled\ntogether with all the might of their horses, and met together so hard\nthat Sir Percivale was smitten to the earth. And then Sir Percivale\narose lightly and cast his shield on his shoulder and drew his sword,\nand bad the other knight alight, and do we battle to the uttermost.\nWill ye more? said that knight, and therewith he alight and put his\nhorse from him, and then they came together an easy pace, and there\nthey lashed together with noble swords, and sometime they stroke, and\nsometime they foined, and either gave other many great wounds. Thus\nthey fought near half a day, and never rested but right little, and\nthere was none of them both that had less wounds than fifteen, and they\nbled so much that it was marvel they stood on their feet. But this\nknight that fought with Sir Percivale was a proved knight and a wise\nfighting knight, and Sir Percivale was young and strong, not knowing in\nfighting as the other was. Then Sir Percivale spake first, and said,\nSir knight, hold thy hand a while still, for we have foughten for a\nsimple matter and quarrel over long, and therefore I require thee tell\nme thy name, for I was never or this time matched. Truly, said that\nknight, and never or this time was there never knight that wounded me\nso sore as thou hast done, and yet have I foughten in many battles; and\nnow shalt thou wit that I am a knight of the Table Round, and my name\nis Sir Ector de Maris, brother unto the good knight Sir Launcelot du\nLake. Alas, said Sir Percivale, and my name is Sir Percivale de Galis,\nthat hath made my quest to seek Sir Launcelot; now I am siker that I\nshall never finish my quest, for ye have slain me with your hands. It\nis not so, said Sir Ector, for I am slain by your hands, and may not\nlive; therefore I require you, said Sir Ector unto Sir Percivale, ride\nye hereby to a priory, and bring me a priest that I may receive my\nSaviour, for I may not live. And when ye come to the court of king\nArthur, tell not my brother Sir Launcelot how that ye slew me, for then\nhe would be your mortal enemy; but ye may say that I was slain in my\nquest as I sought him. Alas, said Sir Percivale, ye say that thing that\nnever will be, for I am so faint for bleeding that I may scarcely\nstand; how should I then take my horse?\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How by miracle they were both made whole, by the coming of the holy\n vessel of Sangreal._\n\nThen they made both great dole out of measure. This will not avail,\nsaid Percivale. And then he kneeled down and made his prayer devoutly\nunto Almighty Jesu; for he was one of the best knights of the world\nthat at that time was, in whom the very faith stood most in. Right so\nthere came by, the holy vessel of the Sancgreal with all manner of\nsweetness and savour, but they could not readily see who that bare that\nvessel, but Sir Percivale had a glimmering of the vessel, and of the\nmaiden that bare it, for he was a perfect clean maiden. And forthwithal\nthey both were as whole of hide and limb as ever they were in their\nlife days; then they gave thankings to God with great mildness. O Jesu!\nsaid Sir Percivale, what may this mean that we be thus healed, and\nright now we were at the point of dying? I wot full well, said Sir\nEctor, what it is. It is an holy vessel that is borne by a maiden, and\ntherein is a part of the holy blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, blessed\nmight He be! but it may not be seen, said Sir Ector, but if it be by a\nperfect man. Truly, said Sir Percivale, I saw a damsel, as me thought,\nall in white, with a vessel in both her hands, and forthwithal I was\nwhole. So then they took their horses and their harness, and amended\ntheir harness as well as they might that was broken, and so they\nmounted upon their horses and rode talking together. And there Sir\nEctor de Maris told Sir Percivale how he had sought his brother Sir\nLauncelot long, and never could hear witting of him:\u2014In many strange\nadventures have I been in this quest. And so either told other of their\nadventures.\n\n Here endeth the enleuenth booke. And here foloweth the twelfth book.\n\n\n\n\n The Twelfth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot in his madness took a sword and fought with a\n knight, and after lept into a bed._\n\nAnd now leave we of a while of Sir Ector and of Sir Percivale, and\nspeak we of Sir Launcelot, that suffered and endured many sharp\nshowers, that ever ran wild wood from place to place, and lived by\nfruit and such as he might get, and drank water two year, and other\nclothing had he but little but his shirt and his breeches. Thus as Sir\nLauncelot wandered here and there, he came in a fair meadow where he\nfound a pavilion, and there by upon a tree there hung a white shield,\nand two swords hung thereby, and two spears leaned there by a tree. And\nwhen Sir Launcelot saw the swords, anon he lept to the one sword, and\ntook it in his hand and drew it out. And then he lashed at the shield\nthat all the meadow rang of the dints, that he gave such a noise as ten\nknights had foughten together. Then came forth a dwarf and lept unto\nSir Launcelot, and would have had the sword out of his hand, and then\nSir Launcelot took him by the both shoulders, and threw him to the\nground upon his neck, that he had almost broken his neck, and\ntherewithal the dwarf cried, Help. Then came forth a likely knight, and\nwell apparelled in scarlet furred with meniver. And anon as he saw Sir\nLauncelot, he deemed that he should be out of his wit: and then he said\nwith fair speech, Good man, lay down that sword, for, as me seemeth,\nthou hast more need of sleep, and of warm clothes, than to wield that\nsword. As for that, said Sir Launcelot, come not too nigh; for, and\nthou do, wit thou well I will slay thee. And when the knight of the\npavilion saw that, he start backward within the pavilion. And then the\ndwarf armed him lightly, and so the knight thought by force and might\nto take the sword from Sir Launcelot, and so he came stepping out, and\nwhen Sir Launcelot saw him come so all armed with his sword in his\nhand, then Sir Launcelot flew to him with such a might, and hit him\nupon the helm such a buffet that the stroke troubled his brains, and\ntherewith the sword brake in three. And the knight fell to the earth as\nhe had been dead, the blood blasting out of his mouth, the nose, and\nthe ears. And then Sir Launcelot ran into the pavilion, and rushed even\ninto the warm bed: and there was a lady in that bed, and she gat her\nsmock, and ran out of the pavilion. And when she saw her lord lie on\nthe ground like to be dead, then she cried and wept as she had been\nmad. Then with her noise the knight awaked out of his swoon, and looked\nup weakly with his eyes, and then he asked her where was that mad man\nthat had given him such a buffet? for such a buffet had I never of\nman\u2019s hand. Sir, said the dwarf, it is not worship to hurt him, for he\nis a man out of his wit, and doubt ye not he hath been a man of great\nworship, and for some heartly sorrow that he hath taken he is fallen\nmad: and me seemeth, said the dwarf, he resembleth much unto Sir\nLauncelot; for him I saw at the great tournament beside Lonazep. Jesu\ndefend, said that knight, that ever that noble knight Sir Launcelot\nshould be in such a plight. But whatsoever he be, said that knight,\nharm will I none do him. And this knight\u2019s name was Bliant. Then he\nsaid unto the dwarf. Go thou fast on horseback unto my brother Sir\nSelivant, that is at the Castle Blank, and tell him of mine adventure,\nand bid him bring with him an horse-litter, and then will we bear this\nknight unto my castle.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot was carried in a horse-litter, and how Sir Launcelot\n rescued Sir Bliant his host._\n\nSo the dwarf rode fast, and he came again and brought Sir Selivant with\nhim, and six men with an horse-litter. And so they took up the\nfeather-bed with Sir Launcelot, and so carried all away with them unto\nthe Castle Blank, and he never awaked till he was within the castle.\nAnd then they bound his hands and his feet, and gave him good meats and\ngood drinks, and brought him again to his strength and his fairness,\nbut in his wit they could not bring him again, nor to know himself.\nThus was Sir Launcelot there more than a year and an half, honestly\narrayed, and fair fared withal. Then upon a day this lord of that\ncastle, Sir Bliant, took his arms on horseback with a spear to seek\nadventures. And as he rode in a forest there met him two knights\nadventurous. The one was Breuse Sance Pit\u00e9, and his brother, Sir\nBertelot, and these two ran both at once upon Sir Bliant, and brake\ntheir spears upon his body. And then they drew out swords, and made\ngreat battle, and fought long together. But at the last Sir Bliant was\nsore wounded, and felt himself faint, and then he fled on horseback\ntoward his castle. And they came hurling under the castle where as Sir\nLauncelot lay in a window, and saw how two knights laid upon Sir Bliant\nwith their swords. And when Sir Launcelot saw that, yet as wood as he\nwas, he was sorry for his lord Sir Bliant. And then Sir Launcelot brake\nhis chains from his legs and off his arms, and in the breaking he hurt\nhis hands sore: and so Sir Launcelot ran out at a postern, and there he\nmet with the two knights that chased Sir Bliant, and there he pulled\ndown Sir Bertelot with his bare hands from his horse, and therewithal\nhe wrothe his sword out of his hands, and so he lept unto Sir Breuse,\nand gave him such a buffet upon the head that he tumbled backward over\nhis horse croup. And when Sir Bertelot saw there his brother have such\na fall, he gat a spear in his hand, and would have run Sir Launcelot\nthrough. That saw Sir Bliant, and strake off the hand of Sir Bertelot:\nand then Sir Breuse and Sir Bertelot gat their horses and fled away.\nWhen Sir Selivant came, and saw what Sir Launcelot had done for his\nbrother, then he thanked God, and so did his brother, that ever they\ndid him any good. But when Sir Bliant saw that Sir Launcelot was hurt\nwith the breaking of his irons, then was he heavy that ever he bound\nhim. Bind him no more, said Sir Selivant, for he is happy and gracious.\nThen they made great joy of Sir Launcelot, and they bound him no more.\nAnd so he abode there an half year and more. And on the morn early, Sir\nLauncelot was ware where came a great boar with many hounds nigh him.\nBut the boar was so big there might no hounds tear him, and the hunters\ncame after blowing their horns, both on horseback and on foot: and then\nSir Launcelot was ware where one alight, and tied his horse to a tree,\nand leaned his spear against the tree.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot fought against a boar and slew him, and how he was\n hurt, and brought unto an hermitage._\n\nSo came Sir Launcelot, and found the horse bounden till a tree, and a\nspear leaning against a tree, and a sword tied to the saddle bow. And\nthen Sir Launcelot lept into the saddle, and gat that spear in his\nhand, and then he rode after the boar. And then Sir Launcelot was ware\nwhere the boar set his back to a tree, fast by an hermitage. Then Sir\nLauncelot ran at the boar with his spear. And therewith the boar turned\nhim nimbly, and rove out the lungs and the heart of the horse, so that\nLauncelot fell to the earth, and or ever Sir Launcelot might get from\nthe horse, the boar rove him on the brawn of the thigh, up to the hough\nbone. And then Sir Launcelot was wroth, and up he gat upon his feet,\nand drew his sword, and he smote off the boar\u2019s head at one stroke. And\ntherewithal came out the hermit, and saw him have such a wound: then\nthe hermit came to Sir Launcelot and bemoaned him, and would have had\nhim home unto his hermitage. But when Sir Launcelot heard him speak, he\nwas so wroth with his wound that he ran upon the hermit to have slain\nhim, and the hermit ran away, and when Sir Launcelot might not overget\nhim he threw his sword after him, for Sir Launcelot might go no farther\nfor bleeding. Then the hermit turned again, and asked Sir Launcelot how\nhe was hurt. Fellow, said Sir Launcelot, this boar hath bitten me sore.\nThen come with me, said the hermit, and I shall heal you. Go thy way,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, and deal not with me. Then the hermit ran his way,\nand there he met with a good knight with many men. Sir, said the\nhermit, here is fast by my place the goodliest man that ever I saw, and\nhe is sore wounded with a boar, and yet he hath slain the boar. But\nwell I wot, said the hermit, and he be not holpen, that goodly man\nshall die of that wound, and that were great pity. Then that knight, at\nthe desire of the hermit, gat a cart, and in that cart that knight put\nthe boar and Sir Launcelot, for Sir Launcelot was so feeble that they\nmight right easily deal with him. And so Sir Launcelot was brought unto\nthe hermitage, and there the hermit healed him of his wound. But the\nhermit might not find Sir Launcelot\u2019s sustenance, and so he impaired\nand waxed feeble, both of his body and of his wit, for the default of\nhis sustenance: he waxed more wooder than he was aforehand. And then,\nupon a day. Sir Launcelot ran his way into the forest, and by adventure\nhe came to the city of Corbin where dame Elaine was, that bare Galahad,\nSir Launcelot\u2019s son. And so when he was entered into the town, he ran\nthrough the town to the castle, and then all the young men of that city\nran after Sir Launcelot, and there they threw turves at him, and gave\nhim many sad strokes. And ever as Sir Launcelot might overreach any of\nthem he threw them, so that they would never come in his hands no more,\nfor of some he brake the legs and arms, and so fled into the castle,\nand then came out knights and squires and rescued Sir Launcelot. And\nwhen they beheld him, and looked upon his person, they thought they saw\nnever so goodly a man. And when they saw so many wounds upon him, all\nthey deemed that he had been a man of worship. And then they ordained\nhim clothes to his body, and straw underneath him, and a little house.\nAnd then every day they would throw him meat, and set him drink, but\nthere was but few would bring meat to his hands.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot was known by dame Elaine, and was borne into a\n chamber, and after healed by the Sangreal._\n\nSo it befel, that king Pelles had a nephew, his name was Castor, and so\nhe desired of the king to be made knight, and so at the request of this\nCastor, the king made him knight at the feast of Candlemas. And when\nSir Castor was made knight, that same day he gave many gowns. And then\nSir Castor sent for the fool, that was Sir Launcelot. And when he was\ncome afore Sir Castor, he gave Sir Launcelot a robe of scarlet and all\nthat belonged unto him. And when Sir Launcelot was so arrayed like a\nknight, he was the seemliest man in all the court, and none so well\nmade. So when he saw his time he went into the garden, and there Sir\nLauncelot laid him down by a well and slept. And so at afternoon, dame\nElaine and her maidens came into the garden to play them, and as they\nroamed up and down, one of dame Elaine\u2019s maidens espied where lay a\ngoodly man by the well sleeping, and anon shewed him to dame Elaine.\nPeace, said dame Elaine, and say no word; and then she brought dame\nElaine where he lay. And when that she beheld him, anon she fell in\nremembrance of him, and knew him verily for Sir Launcelot, and\ntherewithal she fell on weeping so heartily that she sank even to the\nearth. And when she had thus wept a great while, then she arose and\ncalled her maidens, and said she was sick. And so she went out of the\ngarden, and she went straight to her father, and there she took him\napart by herself, and then she said, Oh father, now have I need of your\nhelp, and but if that ye help me, farewell my good days for ever. What\nis that, daughter? said king Pelles. Sir, she said, thus is it: in your\ngarden I went for to sport, and there by the well I found Sir Launcelot\ndu Lake sleeping. I may not believe that, said king Pelles. Sir, she\nsaid, truly he is there, and me seemeth he should be distract out of\nhis wit. Then hold you still, said the king, and let me deal. Then the\nking called to him such as he most trusted, a four persons, and dame\nElaine his daughter. And when they came to the well and beheld Sir\nLauncelot, anon dame Brisen knew him. Sir, said dame Brisen, we must be\nwise how we deal with him, for this knight is out of his mind, and if\nwe awake him rudely, what he will do we all know not. But ye shall\nabide, and I shall throw such an enchantment upon him that he shall not\nawake within the space of an hour; and so she did. Then within a little\nwhile after king Pelles commanded that all people should avoid, that\nnone should be in that way there as the king would come. And so when\nthis was done, these four men and these ladies laid hand on Sir\nLauncelot. And so they bare him into a tower, and so into a chamber\nwhere was the holy vessel of the Sancgreal, and by force Sir Launcelot\nwas laid by that holy vessel, and there came a holy man and uncovered\nthat vessel, and so by miracle, and by virtue of that holy vessel, Sir\nLauncelot was healed and recovered. And when that he was awaked he\ngroaned and sighed, and complained greatly that he was passing sore.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot, after that he was whole and had his mind, he was\n ashamed, and how that Elaine desired a castle for him._\n\nAnd when Sir Launcelot saw king Pelles and Elaine he waxed ashamed, and\nsaid thus: Oh Lord Jesu, how came I here? For God\u2019s sake, my lord, let\nme wit how I came here? Sir, said dame Elaine, into this country ye\ncame like a mad man clean out of your wit. And here have ye been kept\nas a fool, and no creature here knew what ye were, until by fortune a\nmaiden of mine brought me unto you, where as ye lay sleeping by a well,\nand anon, as I verily beheld you, I knew you. And then I told my\nfather, and so were ye brought afore this holy vessel, and by the\nvirtue of it thus were ye healed. O, said Sir Launcelot, if this be\nsooth, how many there be that know of my woodness. Truly, said Elaine,\nno more but my father and I and dame Brisen. Now, I pray you, said Sir\nLauncelot, keep it in counsel, and let no man know it in the world, for\nI am sore ashamed that I have been thus miscarried, for I am banished\nout of the country of Logris for ever, that is for to say, the country\nof England. And so Sir Launcelot lay more than a fortnight, or ever\nthat he might stir for soreness. And then upon a day he said unto dame\nElaine these words: Lady Elaine, for your sake I have had much travel,\ncare, and anguish, it needeth not to rehearse it, ye know how.\nNotwithstanding I know well I have done foul to you, when that I drew\nmy sword to you, for to have slain you. And all was the cause that ye\nand dame Brisen deceived me. That is truth, said dame Elaine. Now will\nye for my love, said Sir Launcelot, go unto your father, and get me a\nplace of him wherein I may dwell: for in the court of king Arthur may I\nnever come. Sir, said dame Elaine, I will live and die with you, and\nonly for your sake, and if my life might not avail you, and my death\nmight avail you, wit ye well I would die for your sake. And I will go\nto my father, and I am sure there is nothing that I can desire of him\nbut I shall have it. And where ye be, my lord Sir Launcelot, doubt ye\nnot but I will be with you with all the service that I may do. So\nforthwithal she went to her father, and said, Sir, my lord Sir\nLauncelot desireth to be here by you in some castle of yours. Well,\ndaughter, said the king, sith it is his desire to abide in these\nmarches, he shall be in the castle of Bliant, and there shall ye be\nwith him, and twenty of the fairest ladies that be in this country, and\nthey shall all be of the great blood; and ye shall have ten knights\nwith you. For, daughter, I will that ye wit we all be honoured by the\nblood of Sir Launcelot.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot came into the Joyous Isle, and there he named\n himself Le Chevaler Mal Fet._\n\nThen went dame Elaine unto Sir Launcelot, and told him all how her\nfather had devised for him and her. Then came the knight Sir Castor,\nthat was nephew unto king Pelles, unto Sir Launcelot, and asked him\nwhat was his name? Sir, said Sir Launcelot, my name is Le Chevaler Mal\nFet, that is to say, the knight that hath trespassed. Sir, said Sir\nCastor, it may well be so, but ever me seemeth your name should be Sir\nLauncelot du Lake, for or now I have seen you. Sir, said Launcelot, ye\nare not as a gentle knight: I put case my name were Sir Launcelot, and\nthat it list me not to discover my name; what should it grieve you here\nto keep my counsel, and ye not hurt thereby? But wit thou well, and\never it lie in my power I shall grieve you, and that I promise you\ntruly. Then Sir Castor kneeled down and besought Sir Launcelot of\nmercy:\u2014For I shall never utter what ye be while that ye be in these\nparts. Then Sir Launcelot pardoned him. And then after this king Pelles\nwith ten knights, and dame Elaine and twenty ladies, rode unto the\ncastle of Bliant, that stood in an island enclosed in iron, with a fair\nwater, deep and large. And when they were there Sir Launcelot let call\nit the Joyous Isle, and there was he called none otherwise but Le\nChevaler Mal Fet, the knight that hath trespassed. Then Sir Launcelot\nlet make him a shield all of sable, and a queen crowned in the midst\nall of silver, and a knight, clean armed, kneeling before her; and\nevery day once, for any mirths that all the ladies might make him, he\nwould once every day look towards the realm of Logris where king Arthur\nand queen Guenever were. And then would he fall upon a weeping as\nthough his heart should to-brast. So it fell that time that Sir\nLauncelot heard of a justing fast by his castle, within three leagues.\nThen he called unto him a dwarf, and he bade him go unto that justing,\nand, or ever the knights depart, look thou make there a cry in the\nhearing of all the knights, that there is one knight in the Joyous\nIsle, that is the castle Bliant, and say that his name is Le Chevaler\nMal Fet, that will just against knights that will come; and who that\nputteth that knight to the worse shall have a fair maid and a jerfalcon.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_Of a great tourneying in the Joyous Isle, and how Sir Percivale and\n Sir Ector came thither, and Sir Percivale fought with him._\n\nSo when this cry was made, unto Joyous Isle drew knights to the number\nof five hundred. And wit ye well there was never seen in Arthur\u2019s days\none knight that did so much deeds of arms as Sir Launcelot did three\ndays together. For, as the book maketh truly mention, he had the better\nof all the five hundred knights, and there was not one slain of them.\nAnd after that Sir Launcelot made them all a great feast. And in the\nmeanwhile came Sir Percivale de Galis and Sir Ector de Maris under that\ncastle that was called the Joyous Isle. And as they beheld that gay\ncastle they would have gone to that castle, but they might not for the\nbroad water, and bridge could they find none. Then they saw on the\nother side a lady with a sperhawk in her hand, and Sir Percivale called\nunto her, and asked that lady who was in that castle. Fair knight, she\nsaid, here within this castle is the fairest lady in this land, and her\nname is Elaine. Also we have in this castle the fairest knight and the\nmightiest man that is, I dare say, living, and he calleth himself Le\nChevaler Mal Fet. How came he into these marches? said Sir Percivale.\nTruly, said the damsel, he came into this country like a mad man, with\ndogs and boys chasing him through the city of Corbin; and by the holy\nvessel of the Sancgreal he was brought into his wit again, but he will\nnot do battle with no knight but by undorne or by noon. And if ye list\nto come into the castle, said the lady, ye must ride unto the further\nside of the castle, and there shall ye find a vessel that will bear you\nand your horse. Then they departed and came unto the vessel. And then\nSir Percivale alight, and said to Sir Ector de Maris, Ye shall abide me\nhere until that I wit what manner a knight he is. For it were shame\nunto us, inasmuch as he is but one knight, and we should both do battle\nwith him. Do ye as ye list, said Sir Ector de Maris, and here I shall\nabide you until that I hear of you. Then passed Sir Percivale the\nwater. And when he came to the castle-gate, he bad the porter, Go thou\nto the good knight within the castle, and tell him here is come an\nerrant knight to just with him. Sir, said the porter, ride ye within\nthe castle, and there is a common place for justing, that lords and\nladies may behold you. So anon as Sir Launcelot had warning, he was\nsoon ready; and there Sir Percivale and Sir Launcelot encountered with\nsuch a might, and their spears were so rude, that both the horses and\nthe knights fell to the earth. Then they avoided their horses and flang\nout noble swords, and hewed away cantels of their shields, and hurtled\ntogether with their shields like two boars, and either wounded other\npassing sore. At the last Sir Percivale spake first, when they had\nfoughten there more than two hours. Fair knight, said Sir Percivale, I\nrequire thee tell me thy name, for I met never with such a knight. Sir,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, my name is Le Chevaler Mal Fet: now tell me your\nname, said Sir Launcelot, I require you gentle knight. Truly, said Sir\nPercivale, my name is Sir Percivale de Galis, that was brother unto the\ngood knight Sir Lamorak de Galis, and king Pellinore was our father,\nand Sir Aglovale is my brother. Alas, said Sir Launcelot, what have I\ndone to fight with you that art a knight of the Table Round, that\nsometime was your fellow!\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How each of them knew other, and of their great courtesy. And how his\n brother Sir Ector came unto him, and of their joy._\n\nAnd therewithal Sir Launcelot kneeled down upon his knees, and threw\naway his shield and his sword from him. When Sir Percivale saw him do\nso, he marvelled what he meaned. And then thus he said, Sir knight,\nwhatsoever thou be, I require thee upon the high order of knighthood\ntell me thy true name. Then he said, Truly my name is Sir Launcelot du\nLake, king Ban\u2019s son of Benoy. Alas, said Sir Percivale, what have I\ndone! I was sent by the queen for to seek you, and so I have sought you\nnigh this two year; and yonder is Sir Ector de Maris your brother\nabideth me on the other side of the yonder water. Now, said Sir\nPercivale, I pray you forgive me mine offence that I have here done. It\nis soon forgiven, said Sir Launcelot. Then Sir Percivale sent for Sir\nEctor de Maris. And when Sir Launcelot had a sight of him, he ran unto\nhim and took him in his arms, and then Sir Ector kneeled down and\neither wept upon other, that all had pity to behold them. Then came\ndame Elaine, and she there made them great cheer as might lie in her\npower; and there she told Sir Ector and Sir Percivale how and in what\nmanner Sir Launcelot came into that country, and how he was healed. And\nthere it was known how long Sir Launcelot was with Sir Bliant and with\nSir Selivant, and how he first met with them, and how he departed from\nthem because of a boar; and how the hermit healed Sir Launcelot of his\ngreat wound, and how that he came to Corbin.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How Sir Bors and Sir Lionel came to king Brandegore, and how Sir Bors\n took his son Helin le Blank, and of Sir Launcelot._\n\nNow leave we Sir Launcelot in the Joyous Isle with the lady dame\nElaine, and Sir Percivale and Sir Ector playing with them, and turn we\nto Sir Bors de Ganis and Sir Lionel, that had sought Sir Launcelot nigh\nby the space of two years, and never could they hear of him. And as\nthey thus rode by adventure, they came to the house of Brandegore, and\nthere Sir Bors was well known, for he had a child of the king\u2019s\ndaughter fifteen years before, and his name was Helin le Blank. And\nwhen Sir Bors saw that child it liked him passing well. And so those\nknights had good cheer of the king Brandegore. And on the morn Sir Bors\ncame afore king Brandegore, and said, Here is my son Helin le Blank,\nthat as it is said he is my son; and since it is so, I will that ye wit\nI will have him with me unto the court of king Arthur. Sir, said the\nking, ye may well take him with you, but he is over tender of age. As\nfor that, said Sir Bors, I will have him with me, and bring him to the\nhouse of most worship of the world. So when Sir Bors should depart,\nthere was made great sorrow for the departing of Helin le Blank, and\ngreat weeping was there made. But Sir Bors and Sir Lionel departed. And\nwithin a while they came to Camelot, where was king Arthur. And when\nking Arthur understood that Helin le Blank was Sir Bors\u2019 son, and\nnephew unto king Brandegore, then king Arthur let him make knight of\nthe Round Table; and so he proved a good knight and an adventurous.\n\nNow will we turn to our matter of Sir Launcelot. It befel upon a day\nSir Ector and Sir Percivale came to Sir Launcelot and asked him what he\nwould do, and whether he would go with them unto king Arthur or not?\nNay, said Sir Launcelot, that may not be by no mean; for I was so\nentreated at the court that I cast me never to come there more. Sir,\nsaid Sir Ector, I am your brother, and ye are the man in the world that\nI love most, and if I understood that it were your disworship, ye may\nunderstand I would never counsel you thereto; but king Arthur and all\nhis knights, and in especial queen Guenever, made such dole and sorrow\nthat it was marvel to hear and see. And ye must remember the great\nworship and renown that ye be of, how that ye have been more spoken of\nthan any other knight that is now living; for there is none that\nbeareth the name now but ye and Sir Tristram; therefore, brother, said\nSir Ector, make you ready to ride to the court with us, and I dare say\nthere was never knight better welcome to the court than ye: and I wot\nwell, and can make it good, said Sir Ector, it hath cost my lady the\nqueen twenty thousand pound the seeking of you. Well, brother, said Sir\nLauncelot, I will do after your counsel, and ride with you. So then\nthey took their horses, and made them ready, and took their leave at\nking Pelles and at dame Elaine. And when Sir Launcelot should depart,\ndame Elaine made great sorrow. My lord Sir Launcelot, said dame Elaine,\nat this same feast of Pentecost shall your son and mine, Galahad, be\nmade knight, for he is fully now fifteen winter old. Do as ye list,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, God give him grace to prove a good knight. As for\nthat, said dame Elaine, I doubt not he shall prove the best man of his\nkin, except one. Then shall he be a man good enough, said Sir Launcelot.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot with Sir Percivale and Sir Ector came to the court,\n and of the great joy of him._\n\nThen they departed, and within five days\u2019 journey they came to Camelot,\nthat is called in English, Winchester. And when Sir Launcelot was come\namong them, the king and all the knights made great joy of him. And\nthere Sir Percivale de Galis and Sir Ector de Maris began and told the\nwhole adventures, that Sir Launcelot had been out of his mind the time\nof his absence, how he called himself Le Chevaler Mal Fet, the knight\nthat had trespassed, and in three days Sir Launcelot smote down five\nhundred knights. And ever, as Sir Ector and Sir Percivale told these\ntales of Sir Launcelot, queen Guenever wept as she should have died.\nThen the queen made great cheer. Truly, said king Arthur, I marvel for\nwhat cause ye Sir Launcelot went out of your mind? I and many others\ndeem it was for the love of fair Elaine, the daughter of king Pelles,\nby whom ye are noised that ye have a child, and his name is Galahad;\nand men say he shall do marvels. My lord, said Sir Launcelot, if I did\nany folly, I have that I sought. And therewithal the king spake no\nmore; but all Sir Launcelot\u2019s kin knew for whom he went out of his\nmind. And then there were great feasts made and great joy. And many\ngreat lords and ladies, when they heard that Sir Launcelot was come to\nthe court again, they made great joy.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How La Beale Isoud counselled Sir Tristram to go unto the court to the\n great feast of Pentecost._\n\nNow will we leave of this matter, and speak we of Sir Tristram and of\nSir Palamides, that was the Saracen unchristened. When Sir Tristram was\ncome home unto Joyous Gard from his adventures, all this while that Sir\nLauncelot was thus missed two year and more, Sir Tristram bare the\nrenown through all the realm of Logris, and many strange adventures\nbefel him, and full well and manly and worshipfully he brought them to\nan end. So when he was come home, La Beale Isoud told him of the great\nfeast that should be at Pentecost next following; and there she told\nhim how Sir Launcelot had been missed two years, and all that while he\nhad been out of his mind, and how he was holpen by the holy vessel the\nSancgreal. Alas, said Sir Tristram, that caused some debate betwixt him\nand queen Guenever. Sir, said dame Isoud, I know it all, for queen\nGuenever sent me a letter, in the which she wrote me all how it was,\nfor to require you to seek him; and now, blessed be God, said La Beale\nIsoud, he is whole and sound, and come again to the court. Thereof am I\nglad, said Sir Tristram, and now shall ye and I make us ready, for both\nye and I will be at the feast. Sir, said Isoud, and it please you I\nwill not be there, for through me ye be marked of many good knights,\nand that causeth you to have much more labour for my sake than needeth\nyou. Then will I not be there, said Sir Tristram, but if ye be there.\nNot so, said La Beale Isoud, for then shall I be spoken of shame among\nall queens and ladies of estate, for ye that are called one of the\nnoblest knights of the world, and ye a knight of the Round Table, how\nmay ye be missed at that feast? What shall be said among all\nknights?\u2014See how Sir Tristram hunteth, and hawketh, and cowereth\nwithin a castle with his lady, and forsaketh your worship. Alas, shall\nsome say, it is pity that ever he was made knight, or that ever he\nshould have the love of a lady. Also what shall queens and ladies say\nof me?\u2014It is pity that I have my life, that I will hold so noble a\nknight as ye are from his worship. Truly, said Sir Tristram unto La\nBeale Isoud, it is passing well said of you, and nobly counselled, and\nnow I well understand that ye love me; and like as ye have counselled\nme, I will do a part thereafter. But there shall no man nor child ride\nwith me, but myself. And so will I ride on Tuesday next coming, and no\nmore harness of war but my spear and my sword.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How Sir Tristram departed unarmed, and met with Sir Palamides, and how\n they smote each other, and how Sir Palamides forbare him._\n\nAnd so when the day came, Sir Tristram took his leave at La Beale\nIsoud; and she sent with him four knights, and within half a mile he\nsent them again: and within a mile after Sir Tristram saw afore him\nwhere Sir Palamides had stricken down a knight, and almost wounded him\nto the death. Then Sir Tristram repented him that he was not armed, and\nthen he hoved still. With that Sir Palamides knew Sir Tristram, and\ncried on high, Sir Tristram, now be we met, for or we depart we will\nredress our old sores! As for that, said Sir Tristram, there was never\nyet Christian man that might make his boast that ever I fled from him;\nand wit ye well Sir Palamides, thou that art a Saracen shall never make\nthy boast that Sir Tristram de Liones shall flee from thee. And\ntherewith Sir Tristram made his horse to run, and with all his might he\ncame straight upon Sir Palamides, and brast his spear upon him in an\nhundred pieces. And forthwithal Sir Tristram drew his sword. And then\nhe turned his horse and struck at Palamides six great strokes upon his\nhelm, and then Sir Palamides stood still and beheld Sir Tristram, and\nmarvelled of his woodness and of his folly. And then Sir Palamides said\nto himself, And Sir Tristram were armed it were hard to cease him of\nthis battle, and if I turn again and slay him I am shamed wheresoever\nthat I go. Then Sir Tristram spake, and said, Thou coward knight, what\ncastest thou to do? why wilt thou not do battle with me, for have thou\nno doubt I shall endure all thy malice. Ah, Sir Tristram, said Sir\nPalamides, full well thou wotest I may not fight with thee for shame,\nfor thou art here naked, and I am armed, and if I slay thee dishonour\nshall be mine. And well thou wotest, said Sir Palamides to Sir\nTristram, I know thy strength and thy hardiness to endure against a\ngood knight. That is truth, said Sir Tristram, I understand thy\nvaliantness well. Ye say well, said Sir Palamides, now I require you\ntell me a question that I shall say to you. Tell me what it is, said\nSir Tristram, and I shall answer you the truth. I put the case, said\nSir Palamides, that ye were armed at all rights as well as I am, and I\nnaked as ye be, what would ye do to me now by your true knighthood? Ah,\nsaid Sir Tristram, now I understand thee well, Sir Palamides, for now\nmust I say my own judgment, and, as God me bless, that I shall say\nshall not be said for no fear that I have of thee. But this is all;\nwit, Sir Palamides, as at this time thou shouldest depart from me, for\nI would not have ado with thee. No more will I, said Sir Palamides, and\ntherefore ride forth on thy way. As for that I may choose, said Sir\nTristram, either to ride or to abide. But Sir Palamides, said Sir\nTristram, I marvel of one thing, that thou that art so good a knight,\nthat thou wilt not be christened, and thy brother Sir Safere hath been\nchristened many a day.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_How that Sir Tristram gat him harness of a knight which was hurt, and\n how he overthrew Sir Palamides._\n\nAs for that, said Sir Palamides, I may not yet be christened, for one\navow that I have made many years agone; howbeit in my heart I believe\nin Jesus Christ and his mild mother Mary; but I have but one battle to\ndo, and when that is done I will be baptised with a good will. By my\nhead, said Sir Tristram, as for one battle thou shalt not seek it no\nlonger. For God defend, said Sir Tristram, that through my default thou\nshouldest longer live thus a Saracen. For yonder is a knight that ye,\nSir Palamides, have hurt and smitten down; now help me that I were\narmed in his armour, and I shall soon fulfil thine avows. As ye will,\nsaid Sir Palamides, so it shall be. So they rode unto that knight that\nsat upon a bank, and then Sir Tristram saluted him, and he weakly\nsaluted him again. Sir knight, said Sir Tristram, I require you tell me\nyour right name. Sir, he said, my name is Sir Galleron of Galway, and\nknight of the Table Round. Truly, said Sir Tristram, I am right heavy\nof your hurts: but this is all, I must pray you to lend me all your\nwhole armour, for ye see I am unarmed, and I must do battle with this\nknight. Sir, said the hurt knight, ye shall have it with a good will;\nbut ye must beware, for I warn you that knight is wight. Sir, said\nGalleron, I pray you tell me your name, and what is that knight\u2019s name\nthat hath beaten me. Sir, as for my name, it is Sir Tristram de Liones,\nand as for the knight\u2019s name that hath hurt you, it is Sir Palamides,\nbrother unto the good knight Sir Safere, and yet is Sir Palamides\nunchristened. Alas, said Sir Galleron, that is pity that so good a\nknight and so noble a man of arms should be unchristened. Truly, said\nSir Tristram, either he shall slay me, or I him, but that he shall be\nchristened or ever we depart in sunder. My lord Sir Tristram, said Sir\nGalleron, your renown and worship is well known through many realms,\nand God save you this day from shenship and shame. Then Sir Tristram\nunarmed Galleron, the which was a noble knight and had done many deeds\nof arms, and he was a large knight of flesh and bone. And when he was\nunarmed he stood upon his feet, for he was bruised in the back with a\nspear; yet, so as Sir Galleron might, he armed Sir Tristram. And then\nSir Tristram mounted upon his own horse, and in his hand he gat Sir\nGalleron\u2019s spear. And therewithal Sir Palamides was ready, and so they\ncame hurtling together, and either smote other in the midst of their\nshields, and therewithal Sir Palamides\u2019 spear brake, and Sir Tristram\nsmote down the horse; and then Sir Palamides, as soon as he might,\navoided his horse, and dressed his shield, and pulled out his sword.\nThat saw Sir Tristram, and therewith he alight, and tied his horse to a\ntree.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides fought long together, and after\n accorded; and how Sir Tristram made him to be christened._\n\nAnd then they came together as two wild boars, lashing together,\ntracing and traversing as noble men that oft had been well proved in\nbattle; but ever Sir Palamides dread the might of Sir Tristram, and\ntherefore he suffered him to breathe him. Thus they fought more than\ntwo hours; and often Sir Tristram smote such strokes at Sir Palamides\nthat he made him to kneel; and Sir Palamides brake and cut away many\npieces of Sir Tristram\u2019s shield, and then Sir Palamides wounded Sir\nTristram, for he was a well fighting man. Then Sir Tristram was wood\nwrath out of measure, and rashed upon Sir Palamides with such a might\nthat Sir Palamides fell groveling to the earth, and therewithal he\nleapt up lightly upon his feet, and then Sir Tristram wounded Sir\nPalamides sore through the shoulder. And ever Sir Tristram fought still\nin like hard, and Sir Palamides failed not, but gave him many sad\nstrokes. And at the last Sir Tristram doubled his strokes, and by\nfortune Sir Tristram smote Sir Palamides\u2019 sword out of his hand, and if\nSir Palamides had stooped for his sword, he had been slain. Then\nPalamides stood still and beheld his sword with a sorrowful heart. How\nnow, said Sir Tristram unto Palamides, now have I thee at advantage as\nthou hadst me this day, but it shall never be said in no court, nor\namong good knights, that Sir Tristram shall slay any knight that is\nweaponless, and therefore take thou thy sword, and let us make an end\nof this battle. As for to do this battle, said Palamides, I dare right\nwell end it; but I have no great lust to fight no more, and for this\ncause, said Palamides, mine offence to you is not so great but that we\nmay be friends. All that I have offended is and was for the love of La\nBeale Isoud. And as for her, I dare say she is peerless above all other\nladies, and also I proffered her never no dishonour; and by her I have\ngotten the most part of my worship, and sithen I offended never as to\nher own person. And as for the offence that I have done, it was against\nyour own person, and for that offence ye have given me this day many\nsad strokes, and some I have given you again; and now I dare say I felt\nnever man of your might, nor so well breathed, but if it were Sir\nLauncelot du Lake. Wherefore I require you, my lord, forgive me all\nthat I have offended unto you. And this same day have me to the next\nchurch, and first let me be clean confessed, and after see you now that\nI be truly baptized. And then will we all ride together unto the court\nof Arthur, that we be there at the high feast. Now take your horse,\nsaid Sir Tristram, and as ye say, so it shall be; and all your evil\nwill God forgive it you, and I do. And here, within this mile, is the\nsuffragan of Carlisle, that shall give you the sacrament of baptism.\nThen they took their horses, and Sir Galleron rode with them. And when\nthey came to the suffragan Sir Tristram told him their desire. Then the\nsuffragan let fill a great vessel with water. And when he had hallowed\nit, he then confessed clean Sir Palamides, and Sir Tristram and Sir\nGalleron were his godfathers. And then soon after they departed, riding\ntowards Camelot, where king Arthur and queen Guenever was, and for the\nmost part all the knights of the Round Table. And so the king and all\nthe court were glad that Sir Palamides was christened. And at the same\nfeast in came Galahad and sat in the Siege Perilous.\n\nAnd so therewithal departed and dissevered all the knights of the Round\nTable. And Sir Tristram returned again unto Joyous Gard, and Sir\nPalamides followed the questing beast.\n\nHere endeth the second book of syr Tristram that was drawen oute of\n Frensshe in to Englysshe.\n\nBut here is no rehersal of the thyrd book. And here foloweth the noble\n tale of the Sancgreal that called is the hooly vessel and the\n sygnefycacyon of the blessid blood of our lord Jhesu Cryste, blessid\n mote it be, the which was brought in to this land by Joseph of\n Armathye, therefor on al synful souls blessid lord haue thou mercy.\n\n Explicit liber xii. Et incipit Decimustercius.\n\n\n\n\n The Thirteenth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How at the Vigil of the feast of Pentecost entered into the hall,\n before king Arthur, a damsel, and desired Sir Launcelot for to come\n and dub a knight, and how he went with her._\n\nAt the vigil of Pentecost, when all the fellowship of the Round Table\nwere comen unto Camelot, and there heard their service, and the tables\nwere set ready to the meat, right so entered into the hall a full fair\ngentlewoman on horseback, that had ridden full fast, for her horse was\nall besweat. Then she there alight, and came before the king, and\nsaluted him; and then he said, Damsel, God thee bless! Sir, said she, I\npray you say me where Sir Launcelot is? Yonder ye may see him, said the\nking. Then she went unto Launcelot and said, Sir Launcelot, I salute\nyou on king Pelles\u2019 behalf, and I require you come on with me hereby\ninto a forest. Then Sir Launcelot asked her with whom she dwelled? I\ndwell, said she, with king Pelles. What will ye with me? said Sir\nLauncelot. Ye shall know, said she, when ye come thither. Well, said\nhe, I will gladly go with you. So Sir Launcelot bade his squire saddle\nhis horse and bring his arms; and in all haste he did his commandment.\nThen came the queen unto Launcelot and said, Will ye leave us at this\nhigh feast? Madam, said the gentlewoman, wit ye well he shall be with\nyou to-morrow by dinner-time. If I wist, said the queen, that he should\nnot be with us here to-morn, he should not go with you by my good will.\n\nRight so departed Sir Launcelot with the gentlewoman, and rode until\nthat he came into a forest, and into a great valley, where they saw an\nabbey of nuns; and there was a squire ready, and opened the gates; and\nso they entered, and descended off their horses, and there came a fair\nfellowship about Sir Launcelot and welcomed him, and were passing glad\nof his coming. And then they led him into the Abbess\u2019s chamber, and\nunarmed him, and right so he was ware upon a bed lying two of his\ncousins, Sir Bors and Sir Lionel, and then he waked them, and when they\nsaw him they made great joy. Sir, said Sir Bors unto Sir Launcelot,\nwhat adventure hath brought thee hither, for we wend to-morrow to have\nfound you at Camelot? Truly, said Sir Launcelot, a gentlewoman brought\nme hither, but I know not the cause. In the meanwhile, as they thus\nstood talking together, there came twelve nuns which brought with them\nGalahad, the which was passing fair and well made, that unneth in the\nworld men might not find his match; and all those ladies wept. Sir,\nsaid the ladies, we bring you here this child, the which we have\nnourished, and we pray you to make him a knight; for of a more worthier\nman\u2019s hand may he not receive the order of knighthood. Sir Launcelot\nbeheld that young squire, and saw him seemly and demure as a dove, with\nall manner of good features, that he wend of his age never to have seen\nso fair a man of form. Then said Sir Launcelot, Cometh this desire of\nhimself? He and all they said, Yea. Then shall he, said Sir Launcelot,\nreceive the high order of knighthood as to-morrow at the reverence of\nthe high feast. That night Sir Launcelot had passing good cheer, and on\nthe morn at the hour of prime, at Galahad\u2019s desire, he made him knight,\nand said, God make him a good man, For beauty faileth you not as any\nthat liveth.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How the letters were found written in the siege perilous, and of the\n marvellous adventure of the sword in a stone._\n\nNow, fair sir, said Sir Launcelot, will ye come with me unto the court\nof king Arthur? Nay, said he, I will not go with you as at this time.\nThen he departed from them and took his two cousins with him, and so\nthey came unto Camelot by the hour of undorne on Whitsunday. By that\ntime the king and the queen were gone to the minster to hear their\nservice: then the king and the queen were passing glad of Sir Bors and\nSir Lionel, and so was all the fellowship. So when the king and all the\nknights were come from service, the barons espied in the sieges of the\nRound Table, all about written with gold letters. Here ought to sit he,\nand he ought to sit here. And thus they went so long until that they\ncame to the siege perilous, where they found letters newly written of\ngold, that said: Four hundred winters and fifty-four accomplished after\nthe passion of our Lord Jesu Christ ought this siege to be fulfilled.\nThen all they said, This is a marvellous thing, and an adventurous. In\nthe name of God, said Sir Launcelot; and then he accounted the term of\nthe writing, from the birth of our Lord unto that day. It seemeth me,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, this siege ought to be fulfilled this same day, for\nthis is the Feast of Pentecost after the four hundred and four and\nfifty year; and if it would please all parties, I would none of these\nletters were seen this day, till he be come that ought to achieve this\nadventure. Then made they to ordain a cloth of silk for to cover these\nletters in the siege perilous. Then the king bad haste unto dinner.\nSir, said Sir Kay the steward, if ye go now unto your meat, ye shall\nbreak your old custom of your court. For ye have not used on this day\nto sit at your meat or that ye have seen some adventure. Ye say sooth,\nsaid the king, but I had so great joy of Sir Launcelot and of his\ncousins, which be come to the court whole and sound, that I bethought\nme not of my old custom. So as they stood speaking, in came a squire,\nand said unto the king, Sir, I bring unto you marvellous tidings. What\nbe they? said the king. Sir, there is here beneath at the river a great\nstone, which I saw fleet above the water, and therein saw I sticking a\nsword. The king said, I will see that marvel. So all the knights went\nwith him, and when they came unto the river, they found there a stone\nfleeting, as it were of red marble, and therein stack a fair and a rich\nsword, and in the pomell thereof were precious stones, wrought with\nsubtil letters of gold. Then the barons read the letters, which said in\nthis wise: Never shall man take me hence but only he by whose side I\nought to hang, and he shall be the best knight of the world. When the\nking had seen these letters, he said unto Sir Launcelot, Fair sir, this\nsword ought to be yours, for I am sure ye be the best knight of the\nworld. Then Sir Launcelot answered full soberly: Certes, sir, it is not\nmy sword: also, sir, wit ye well I have no hardiness to set my hand to,\nfor it longed not to hang by my side. Also who that assayeth to take\nthat sword, and faileth of it, he shall receive a wound by that sword,\nthat he shall not be whole long after. And I will that ye wit that this\nsame day will the adventures of the Sancgreal, that is called the holy\nvessel, begin.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How Sir Gawaine assayed to draw out the sword, and how an old man\n brought in Galahad._\n\nNow, fair nephew, said the king unto Sir Gawaine, assay ye for my love.\nSir, he said, save your good grace, I shall not do that. Sir, said the\nking, assay to take the sword, and at my commandment. Sir, said\nGawaine, your commandment I will obey. And therewith he took up the\nsword by the handles, but he might not stir it. I thank you, said the\nking to Sir Gawaine. My lord Sir Gawaine, said Sir Launcelot, now wit\nye well, this sword shall touch you so sore that ye shall will ye had\nnever set your hand thereto, for the best castle of this realm. Sir, he\nsaid, I might not withsay mine uncle\u2019s will and commandment. But when\nthe king heard this, he repented it much, and said unto Sir Percivale\nthat he should assay for his love. And he said, Gladly, for to bear Sir\nGawaine fellowship. And therewith he set his hand on the sword, and\ndrew it strongly, but he might not move it. Then were there more that\ndurst be so hardy to set their hands thereto. Now may ye go to your\ndinner, said Sir Kay unto the king, for a marvellous adventure have ye\nseen. So the king and all went unto the court, and every knight knew\nhis own place, and set him therein, and young men that were knights\nserved them. So when they were served, and all sieges fulfilled, save\nonly the siege perilous, anon there befell a marvellous adventure, that\nall the doors and the windows of the place shut by themself. Not for\nthen the hall was not greatly darkened, and therewith they abashed both\none and other. Then king Arthur spake first, and said, Fair fellows and\nlords, we have seen this day marvels, but or night I suppose we shall\nsee greater marvels. In the mean while came in a good old man, and an\nancient, clothed all in white, and there was no knight knew from whence\nhe came. And with him he brought a young knight, both on foot, in red\narms, without sword or shield, save a scabbard hanging by his side. And\nthese words he said, Peace be with you, fair lords. Then the old man\nsaid unto Arthur, Sir, I bring here a young knight the which is of\nking\u2019s lineage, and of the kindred of Joseph of Arimathie, whereby the\nmarvels of this court and of strange realms shall be fully accomplished.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How the old man brought Galahad to the siege perilous and set him\n therein, and how all the knights marvelled._\n\nThe king was right glad of his words, and said unto the good man, Sir,\nye be right welcome, and the young knight with you. Then the old man\nmade the young man to unarm him; and he was in a coat of red sendel,\nand bare a mantle upon his shoulder that was furred with ermine, and\nput that upon him. And the old knight said unto the young knight, Sir,\nfollow me. And anon he led him unto the siege perilous, where beside\nsat Sir Launcelot, and the good man lift up the cloth, and found there\nletters that said thus: This is the siege of Galahad the haut prince.\nSir, said the old knight, wit ye well that place is yours. And then he\nset him down surely in that siege. And then he said to the old man,\nSir, ye may now go your way, for well have ye done that ye were\ncommanded to do. And recommend me unto my grandsire king Pelles, and\nunto my lord Petchere, and say them on my behalf, I shall come and see\nthem as soon as ever I may. So the good man departed, and there met him\ntwenty noble squires, and so took their horses and went their way. Then\nall the knights of the Table Round marvelled them greatly of Sir\nGalahad, that he durst sit there in that siege perilous, and was so\ntender of age, and wist not from whence he came, but all only by God,\nand said, This is he by whom the Sancgreal shall be achieved, for there\nsat never none but he, but he were mischieved. Then Sir Launcelot\nbeheld his son, and had great joy of him. Then Sir Bors told his\nfellows, Upon pain of my life this young knight shall come unto great\nworship. This noise was great in all the court, so that it came to the\nqueen. Then she had marvel what knight it might be that durst adventure\nhim to sit in the siege perilous. Many said unto the queen, he\nresembled much unto Sir Launcelot. I may well suppose, said the queen,\nthat he is son of Sir Launcelot and king Pelles\u2019 daughter, and his name\nis Galahad. I would fain see him, said the queen, for he must needs be\na noble man, for so is his father; I report me unto all the Table\nRound. So when the meat was done, that the king and all were risen, the\nking went unto the siege perilous, and lift up the cloth, and found\nthere the name of Galahad, and then he shewed it unto Sir Gawaine, and\nsaid, Fair nephew, now have we among us Sir Galahad the good knight,\nthat shall worship us all, and upon pain of my life he shall achieve\nthe Sancgreal, right so as Sir Launcelot hath done us to understand.\nThen came king Arthur unto Galahad, and said, Sir, ye be welcome, for\nye shall move many good knights to the quest of the Sancgreal, and ye\nshall achieve that never knights might bring to an end. Then the king\ntook him by the hand, and went down from the palace to shew Galahad the\nadventures of the stone.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How king Arthur shewed the stone, hoving on the water, to Galahad, and\n how he drew out the sword._\n\nThe queen heard thereof, and came after with many ladies, and shewed\nthem the stone where it hoved on the water. Sir, said the king unto Sir\nGalahad, here is a great marvel as ever I saw, and right good knights\nhave assayed and failed. Sir, said Galahad, that is no marvel, for this\nadventure is not theirs, but mine, and for the surety of this sword I\nbrought none with me; for here by my side hangeth the scabbard. And\nanon he laid his hand on the sword, and lightly drew it out of the\nstone, and put it in the sheath and said unto the king, Now it goeth\nbetter than it did aforehand. Sir, said the king, a shield God shall\nsend you. Now have I, said Sir Galahad, that sword that sometime was\nthe good knight\u2019s Balin le Savage, and he was a passing good man of his\nhands. And with this sword he slew his brother Balan, and that was\ngreat pity, for he was a good knight, and either slew other through a\ndolorous stroke that Balan gave unto my grandfather king Pelles, the\nwhich is not yet whole, nor not shall be till I heal him. Therewith the\nking and all espied where came riding down the river a lady on a white\npalfrey toward them. Then she saluted the king and the queen, and asked\nif that Sir Launcelot was there? And then he answered himself, I am\nhere, fair lady. Then she said, all with weeping, How your great doing\nis changed sith this day in the morn. Damsel, why say ye so? said\nLauncelot. I say you sooth, said the damsel, for ye were this day the\nbest knight of the world, but who should say so now should be a liar,\nfor there is now one better than ye. And well it is proved by the\nadventures of the sword whereto ye durst not set your hand, and that is\nthe change and leaving of your name; wherefore I make unto you a\nremembrance, that ye shall not ween from henceforth that ye be the best\nknight of the world. As touching unto that, said Launcelot, I know well\nI was never the best. Yes, said the damsel, that were ye, and are yet\nof any sinful man of the world. And sir king, Nacien the hermit sendeth\nthee word, that thee shall befall the greatest worship that ever befell\nking in Britain; and I say you wherefore, for this day the Sancgreal\nshall appear in thy house, and feed thee and all thy fellowship of the\nRound Table. So she departed and went that same way that she came.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How King Arthur had all the knights together, for to just in the\n meadow beside Camelot or they departed._\n\nNow, said the king, I am sure at this quest of the Sancgreal shall all\nye of the Table Round depart, and never shall I see you again whole\ntogether, therefore I will see you all whole together in the meadow of\nCamelot, to just and to tourney, that after your death men may speak of\nit, that such good knights were wholly together such a day. As unto\nthat counsel, and at the king\u2019s request, they accorded all, and took on\ntheir harness that longed unto justing. But all this moving of the king\nwas for this intent, for to see Galahad proved, for the king deemed he\nshould not lightly come again unto the court after his departing. So\nwere they assembled in the meadow, both more and less. Then Sir\nGalahad, by the prayer of the king and the queen, did upon him a noble\njesserance, and also he did on his helm, but shield would he take none\nfor no prayer of the king. And then Sir Gawaine and other knights\nprayed him to take a spear. Right so he did; and the queen was in a\ntower with all her ladies for to behold that tournament. Then Sir\nGalahad dressed him in the midst of the meadow, and began to break\nspears marvellously, that all men had wonder of him, for he there\nsurmounted all other knights, for within a while he had thrown down\nmany good knights of the Table Round save twain, that was Sir Launcelot\nand Sir Percivale.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How the queen desired to see Galahad, and how after all the knights\n were replenished with the holy Sangreal, and how they avowed the\n enquest of the same._\n\nThen the king, at the queen\u2019s request, made him to alight and to unlace\nhis helm, that the queen might see him in the visage. And when she\nbeheld him she said, Soothly, I dare well say that Sir Launcelot is his\nfather, for never two men resembled more in likeness, therefore it is\nno marvel though he be of great prowess. So a lady that stood by the\nqueen said, Madam, ought he of right to be so good a knight? Yea,\nforsooth, said the queen, for he is of all parties come of the best\nknights of the world, and of the highest lineage; for Sir Launcelot is\ncome but of the eighth degree from our Lord Jesu Christ, and Sir\nGalahad is of the ninth degree from our Lord Jesu Christ; therefore I\ndare say they be the greatest gentlemen of the world. And then the king\nand all estates went home unto Camelot, and so went to evensong to the\ngreat minster. And so after upon that to supper, and every knight sat\nin his own place as they were toforehand. Then anon they heard cracking\nand crying of thunder, that them thought the place should all to-drive.\nIn the midst of this blast entered a sun-beam more clearer by seven\ntimes than ever they saw day, and all they were alighted of the grace\nof the Holy Ghost. Then began every knight to behold other, and either\nsaw other by their seeming fairer than ever they saw afore. Not for\nthen there was no knight might speak one word a great while, and so\nthey looked every man on other, as they had been dumb. Then there\nentered into the hall the holy Graile covered with white samite, but\nthere was none might see it, nor who bare it. And there was all the\nhall full filled with good odours, and every knight had such meats and\ndrinks as he best loved in this world: and when the holy Graile had\nbeen borne through the hall, then the holy vessel departed suddenly,\nthat they wist not where it became. Then had they all breath to speak.\nAnd then the king yielded thankings unto God of his good grace that he\nhad sent them. Certes, said the king, we ought to thank our Lord Jesu\ngreatly, for that he hath shewed us this day at the reverence of this\nhigh feast of Pentecost. Now, said Sir Gawaine, we have been served\nthis day of what meats and drinks we thought on, but one thing beguiled\nus, we might not see the holy Graile, it was so preciously covered;\nwherefore I will make here avow, that to-morn, without longer abiding,\nI shall labour in the quest of the Sancgreal, that I shall hold me out\na twelvemonth and a day, or more if need be, and never shall I return\nagain unto the court till I have seen it more openly than it hath been\nseen here: and if I may not speed, I shall return again as he that may\nnot be against the will of our Lord Jesu Christ. When they of the Table\nRound heard Sir Gawaine say so, they arose up the most party, and made\nsuch avows as Sir Gawaine had made.\n\nAnon as king Arthur heard this he was greatly displeased, for he wist\nwell that they might not againsay their avows. Alas! said king Arthur\nunto Sir Gawaine, ye have nigh slain me with the avow and promise that\nye have made. For through you ye have bereft me of the fairest\nfellowship and the truest of knighthood that ever were seen together in\nany realm of the world. For when they depart from hence, I am sure they\nall shall never meet more in this world, for they shall die many in the\nquest. And so it forethinketh me a little, for I have loved them as\nwell as my life, wherefore it shall grieve me right sore the\ndepartition of this fellowship. For I have had an old custom to have\nthem in my fellowship.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How great sorrow was made of the king and the queen and ladies for the\n departing of the knights, and how they departed._\n\nAnd therewith the tears filled in his eyes. And then he said, Gawaine,\nGawaine, ye have set me in great sorrow. For I have great doubt that my\ntrue fellowship shall never meet here more again. Ah, said Sir\nLauncelot, comfort yourself, for it shall be unto us as a great honour,\nand much more than if we died in any other places, for of death we be\nsure. Ah Launcelot, said the king, the great love that I have had unto\nyou all the days of my life maketh me to say such doleful words; for\nnever christian king had never so many worthy men at this table as I\nhave had this day at the Round Table, and that is my great sorrow. When\nthe queen, ladies, and gentlewomen wist these tidings, they had such\nsorrow and heaviness that there might no tongue tell it, for those\nknights had holden them in honour and charity. But among all other\nqueen Guenever made great sorrow. I marvel, said she, my lord would\nsuffer them to depart from him. Thus was all the court troubled, for\nthe love of the departition of those knights. And many of those ladies\nthat loved knights would have gone with their lovers; and so had they\ndone, had not an old knight come among them in religious clothing, and\nthen he spake all on high and said, Fair lords which have sworn in the\nquest of the Sancgreal, thus sendeth you Nacien the hermit word, that\nnone in this quest lead lady nor gentlewoman with him, for it is not to\ndo in so high a service as they labour in, for I warn you plain, he\nthat is not clean of his sins he shall not see the mysteries of our\nLord Jesu Christ; and for this cause they left these ladies and\ngentlewomen. After this the queen came unto Galahad, and asked him of\nwhence he was, and of what country? He told her of whence he was. And\nson unto Sir Launcelot, she said he was: as to that he said neither yea\nnor nay. Truly, said the queen, of your father ye need not to shame\nyou, for he is the goodliest knight and of the best men of the world\ncome, and of the stock, of all parties, of kings. Wherefore ye ought of\nright to be of your deeds a passing good man, and certainly, she said,\nye resemble him much. Then Sir Galahad was a little ashamed, and said,\nMadam, sith ye know in certain, wherefore do ye ask it me? for he that\nis my father shall be known openly, and all betimes. And then they went\nto rest them. And in the honour of the highness of Galahad he was led\ninto king Arthur\u2019s chamber, and there rested in his own bed. And as\nsoon as it was day the king arose, for he had no rest of all that night\nfor sorrow. Then he went unto Gawaine and to Sir Launcelot, that were\narisen for to hear mass. And then the king again said, Ah Gawaine,\nGawaine, ye have betrayed me. For never shall my court be amended by\nyou, but ye will never be sorry for me, as I am for you. And therewith\nthe tears began to run down by his visage. And therewith the king said,\nAh knight, Sir Launcelot, I require thee thou counsel me, for I would\nthat this quest were undone, and it might be. Sir, said Sir Launcelot,\nye saw yesterday so many worthy knights that then were sworn, that they\nmay not leave it in no manner of wise. That wot I well, said the king,\nbut it shall so heavy me at their departing, that I wot well there\nshall no manner of joy remedy me. And then the king and the queen went\nunto the minster. So anon Launcelot and Gawaine commanded their men to\nbring their arms. And when they all were armed, save their shields and\ntheir helms, then they came to their fellowship, which all were ready\nin the same wise for to go to the minster to hear their service.\n\nThen after the service was done, the king would wit how many had taken\nthe quest of the holy Graile, and to account them he prayed them all.\nThen found they by tale an hundred and fifty, and all were knights of\nthe Round Table. And then they put on their helms, and departed, and\nrecommanded them all wholly unto the queen, and there was weeping and\ngreat sorrow. Then the queen departed into her chamber so that no man\nshould perceive her great sorrows. When Sir Launcelot missed the queen\nhe went into her chamber, and when she saw him she cried aloud, O, Sir\nLauncelot, ye have betrayed me and put me to death, for to leave thus\nmy lord. Ah, madam, said Sir Launcelot, I pray you be not displeased,\nfor I shall come again as soon as I may with my worship. Alas, said\nshe, that ever I saw you! but He that suffered death upon the cross for\nall mankind, be to your good conduct and safety, and all the whole\nfellowship. Right so departed Sir Launcelot, and found his fellowship\nthat abode his coming. And so they mounted upon their horses, and rode\nthrough the streets of Camelot, and there was weeping of the rich and\npoor, and the king turned away, and might not speak for weeping. So\nwithin a while they came to a city and a castle that hight Vagon: there\nthey entered into the castle, and the lord of that castle was an old\nman that hight Vagon, and he was a good man of his living, and set open\nthe gates, and made them all the good cheer that he might. And so on\nthe morrow they were all accorded that they should depart every each\nfrom other. And then they departed on the morrow with weeping and\nmourning cheer, and every knight took the way that him best liked.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How Galahad gat him a shield, and how they sped that presumed to take\n down the said shield._\n\nNow rideth Sir Galahad yet without shield, and so he rode four days\nwithout any adventure. And at the fourth day after even-song he came to\na white abbey, and there he was received with great reverence, and led\nto a chamber, and then he was unarmed, and then was he ware of two\nknights of the Round Table, one was king Bagdemagus, and that other was\nSir Uwaine. And when they saw him they went unto him and made of him\ngreat solace, and so they went to supper. Sirs, said Sir Galahad, what\nadventure brought you hither? Sir, said they, it is told us that within\nthis place is a shield that no man may bear about his neck but that if\nhe be mischieved or dead within three days, or else maimed for ever.\nAh, sir, said king Bagdemagus, I shall bear it to-morrow for to assay\nthis strange adventure. In the name of God, said Sir Galahad. Sir, said\nBagdemagus, and I may not achieve the adventure of this shield ye shall\ntake it upon you, for I am sure ye shall not fail. Sir, said Galahad, I\nagree right well thereto, for I have no shield. So on the morn they\narose and heard mass. Then king Bagdemagus asked where the adventurous\nshield was. Anon a monk led him behind an altar where the shield hung\nas white as any snow, but in the midst was a red cross. Sir, said the\nmonk, this shield ought not to be hanged about no knight\u2019s neck, but he\nbe the worthiest knight of the world, and therefore I counsel you\nknights to be well advised. Well, said king Bagdemagus, I wot well that\nI am not the best knight of the world, but yet shall I assay to bear\nit. And so he bare it out of the monastery; and then he said unto Sir\nGalahad, If it will please you, I pray you abide here still, till ye\nknow how I shall speed. I shall abide you here, said Galahad. Then king\nBagdemagus took with him a squire, the which should bring tidings unto\nSir Galahad how he sped. Then when they had ridden a two mile, and came\nin a fair valley afore an hermitage, then they saw a goodly knight come\nfrom that part in white armour, horse and all, and he came as fast as\nhis horse might run with his spear in the rest, and king Bagdemagus\ndressed his spear against him, and brake it upon the white knight; but\nthe other struck him so hard that he brake the mails, and thrust him\nthrough the right shoulder, for the shield covered him not as at that\ntime, and so he bare him from his horse, and therewith he alighted and\ntook the white shield from him, saying, Knight, thou hast done thyself\ngreat folly, for this shield ought not to be borne but by him that\nshall have no peer that liveth. And then he came to king Bagdemagus\u2019s\nsquire and said, Bear this shield unto the good knight Sir Galahad,\nthat thou left in the abbey, and greet him well from me. Sir, said the\nsquire, what is your name? Take thou no heed of my name, said the\nknight, for it is not for thee to know, nor for none earthly man. Now,\nfair sir, said the squire, at the reverence of Jesu Christ tell me for\nwhat cause this shield may not be borne, but if the bearer thereof be\nmischieved. Now, sith thou hast conjured me so, said the knight, this\nshield behoveth to no man but unto Galahad. And the squire went unto\nBagdemagus and asked him whether he were sore wounded or not? Yea\nforsooth, said he, I shall escape hard from the death. Then he fetched\nhis horse, and brought him with great pain unto an abbey. Then was he\ntaken down softly, and unarmed, and laid in a bed, and there was looked\nto his wounds. And, as the book telleth, he lay there long, and escaped\nhard with the life.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How Galahad departed with the shield. And how king Evelake had\n received the shield of Joseph of Aramathie._\n\nSir Galahad, said the squire, that knight that wounded Bagdemagus\nsendeth you greeting, and bad that ye should bear this shield, where\nthrough great adventures should befall. Now blessed be God and fortune,\nsaid Sir Galahad. And then he asked his arms, and mounted upon his\nhorse, and hung the white shield about his neck, and commended them\nunto God. And Sir Uwaine said he would bear him fellowship if it\npleased him. Sir, said Galahad, that may ye not, for I must go alone,\nsave this squire shall bear me fellowship: and so departed Uwaine. Then\nwithin a while came Galahad there as the white knight abode him by the\nhermitage, and every each saluted other courteously. Sir, said Galahad,\nby this shield been many marvels fallen. Sir, said the knight, it\nbefell after the passion of our Lord Jesu Christ thirty-two year, that\nJoseph of Armathie, the gentle knight the which took down our Lord off\nthe holy cross, at that time he departed from Jerusalem with a great\nparty of his kindred with him. And so he laboured till that they came\nto a city that hight Sarras. And at that same hour that Joseph came to\nSarras, there was a king that hight Evelake, that had great war against\nthe Saracens, and in especially against one Saracen, the which was the\nking Evelake\u2019s cousin, a rich king and a mighty, which marched nigh\nthis land, and his name was called Tolleme la Feintes. So on a day this\ntwo met to do battle. Then Joseph, the son of Joseph of Armathie, went\nto king Evelake, and told him he should be discomfit and slain, but if\nhe left his belief of the old law, and believed upon the new law. And\nthen there he shewed him the right belief of the Holy Trinity, to the\nwhich he agreed unto with all his heart, and there this shield was made\nfor king Evelake, in the name of Him that died upon the cross. And then\nthrough his good belief he had the better of king Tolleme. For when\nEvelake was in the battle, there was a cloth set afore the shield, and\nwhen he was in the greatest peril he let put away the cloth, and then\nhis enemies saw a figure of a man on the cross, where through they all\nwere discomfit. And so it befell that a man of king Evelake\u2019s was\nsmitten his hand off, and bare that hand in his other hand. And Joseph\ncalled that man unto him, and bad him, Go with good devotion, touch the\ncross. And as soon as that man had touched the cross with his hand, it\nwas as whole as ever it was tofore. Then soon after there fell a great\nmarvel, that the cross of the shield at one time vanished away, that no\nman wist where it became. And then king Evelake was baptised, and for\nthe most part all the people of that city. So soon after Joseph would\ndepart, and king Evelake would go with him, whether he would or nould.\nAnd so by fortune they came into this land, that at that time was\ncalled Great Britain. And there they found a great felon paynim, that\nput Joseph into prison. And so by fortune tidings came unto a worthy\nman that hight Mondrames, and he assembled all his people, for the\ngreat renown he had heard of Joseph, and so he came into the land of\nGreat Britain, and disherited this felon paynim and consumed him, and\ntherewith delivered Joseph out of prison. And after that all the people\nwere turned to the christian faith.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How Joseph made a cross on the white shield with his blood, and how\n Galahad was by a monk brought to a tomb._\n\nNot long after that Joseph was laid in his deadly bed. And when king\nEvelake saw that, he made much sorrow, and said, For thy love I have\nleft my country, and sith ye shall depart out of this world leave me\nsome token of yours, that I may think on you. Joseph said, that will I\ndo full gladly. Now bring me your shield that I took you when ye went\ninto battle against king Tolleme. Then Joseph bled sore at the nose\nthat he might not by no means be staunched. And there upon that shield\nhe made a cross of his own blood. Now may ye see a remembrance that I\nlove you, for ye shall never see this shield but ye shall think on me,\nand it shall be always as fresh as it is now; and never shall no man\nbear this shield about his neck but he shall repent it, unto the time\nthat Galahad the good knight bear it, and the last of my lineage shall\nhave it about his neck, that shall do many marvellous deeds. Now, said\nking Evelake, where shall I put this shield, that this worthy knight\nmay have it? Ye shall leave it there as Nacien the hermit shall be put\nafter his death. For thither shall that good knight come the fifteenth\nday after that he shall receive the order of knighthood. And so that\nday that they set is this time that ye have his shield. And in the same\nabbey lieth Nacien the hermit. And then the white knight vanished away.\nAnon, as the squire had heard these words, he alight off his hackney,\nand kneeled down at Galahad\u2019s feet, and prayed him that he might go\nwith him till he had made him knight.\u2014If I would not refuse you?\u2014Then\nwill ye make me a knight, said the squire, and that order, by the grace\nof God, shall be well set in me. So Sir Galahad granted him, and turned\nagain unto the abbey there they came from. And there men made great joy\nof Sir Galahad. And anon as he was alight, there was a monk brought him\nunto a tomb in a church-yard, where that was such a noise that who that\nheard it should verily nigh be mad or lose his strength. And, sir, they\nsaid, we deem it is a fiend.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_Of the marvel that Sir Galahad saw and heard in the tomb, and how he\n made Melias knight._\n\nNow lead me thither, said Galahad. And so they did, all armed save his\nhelm. Now, said the good man, go to the tomb and lift it up. So he did,\nand heard a great noise, and piteously he said that all men might hear\nit. Sir Galahad, the servant of Jesu Christ, come thou not nigh me, for\nthou shalt make me go again there where I have been so long. But\nGalahad was nothing afraid, but lift up the stone, and there came out\nso foul a smoke, and after he saw the foulest figure leap thereout that\never he saw in the likeness of a man; and then he blessed him, and wist\nwell it was a fiend. Then heard he a voice say, Galahad, I see there\nenviron about thee so many angels that my power may not dare thee.\nRight so Sir Galahad saw a body all armed lie in that tomb, and beside\nhim a sword. Now, fair brother, said Galahad, let us remove this body,\nfor it is not worthy to lie in this church-yard, for he was a false\nChristian man. And therewith they all departed and went to the abbey.\nAnd anon as he was unarmed, a good man came and set him down by him,\nand said, Sir, I shall tell you what betokeneth all that ye saw in the\ntomb: For that covered body betokeneth the duresse of the world, and\nthe great sin that our Lord found in the world, for there was such\nwretchedness that the father loved not the son, nor the son loved not\nthe father, and that was one of the causes that our Lord took flesh and\nblood of a clean maiden; for our sins were so great at that time that\nwell nigh all was wickedness. Truly, said Galahad, I believe you right\nwell. So Sir Galahad rested him there that night. And upon the morn he\nmade the squire knight, and asked him his name, and of what kindred he\nwas come. Sir, said he, men call me Melias de Lile, and I am the son of\nthe king of Denmark. Now, fair sir, said Galahad, sith ye be come of\nkings and queens, now look that knighthood be well set in you, for ye\nought to be a mirror unto all chivalry. Sir, said Melias, ye say sooth.\nBut, sir, sithen ye have made me a knight, ye must of right grant me my\nfirst desire that is reasonable. Ye say sooth, said Galahad. Then\nMelias said, that ye will suffer me to ride with you in this quest of\nthe Sancgreal till that some adventure depart us.\u2014I grant you, sir.\nThen men brought Sir Melias his armour, and his spear, and his horse;\nand so Sir Galahad and he rode forth all that week ere they found any\nadventure. And then upon a Monday, in the morning, as they were\ndeparted from an abbey, they came to a cross which departed two ways;\nand in that cross were letters written, that said thus: Now ye knights\nerrant, the which goeth to seek knights adventurous, see here two ways;\nthat one way defendeth thee that thou ne go that way, for he shall not\ngo out of the way again, but if he be a good man and a worthy knight;\nand if thou go on the left hand, thou shalt not there lightly win\nprowess, for thou shalt in this way be soon assayed. Sir, said Melias\nto Galahad, if it like you to suffer me to take the way on the left\nhand, tell me, for there I shall well prove my strength. It were\nbetter, said Galahad, ye rode not that way, for I deem I should better\nescape in that way than ye.\u2014Nay, my lord, I pray you let me have that\nadventure.\u2014Take it, in God\u2019s name, said Galahad.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_Of the adventure that Melias had, and how Galahad revenged him, and\n how Melias was carried into an abbey._\n\nAnd then rode Melias into an old forest, and therein he rode two days\nand more. And then he came into a fair meadow, and there was a fair\nlodge of boughs. And then he espied in that lodge a chair, wherein was\na crown of gold subtily wrought. Also there was clothes covered upon\nthe earth, and many delicious meats were set thereon. Sir Melias beheld\nthis adventure, and thought it marvellous, but he had no hunger, but of\nthe crown of gold he took much keep, and therewith he stooped down, and\ntook it up, and rode his way with it. And anon he saw a knight came\nriding after him that said, Knight, set down that crown which is not\nyours, and therefore defend you. Then Sir Melias blessed him, and said,\nFair Lord of heaven, help and save thy new-made knight. And then they\nlet their horses run as fast as they might, so that the other knight\nsmote Sir Melias through hauberk and through the left side, that he\nfell to the earth nigh dead. And then he took the crown and went his\nway, and Sir Melias lay still and had no power to stir. In the\nmeanwhile by fortune there came Sir Galahad and found him there in\nperil of death. And then he said, Ah, Melias, who hath wounded you?\ntherefore it had been better to have ridden that other way. And when\nSir Melias heard him speak, Sir, he said, for God\u2019s love let me not die\nin this forest, but bear me unto the abbey here beside, that I may be\nconfessed and have my rites. It shall be done, said Galahad, but where\nis he that hath wounded you? With that Sir Galahad heard in the leaves\ncry on high, Knight, keep thee from me! Ah sir, said Melias, beware,\nfor that is he that hath slain me. Sir Galahad answered, Sir knight,\ncome on your peril. Then either dressed to other, and came together as\nfast as their horses might run; and Galahad smote him so that his spear\nwent through his shoulder, and smote him down off his horse, and in the\nfalling Galahad\u2019s spear brake. With that came out another knight out of\nthe leaves and brake a spear upon Galahad, or ever he might turn him.\nThen Galahad drew out his sword and smote off the left arm of him, so\nthat it fell to the earth. And then he fled, and Sir Galahad sued fast\nafter him. And then he turned again unto Sir Melias, and there he\nalight and dressed him softly on his horse tofore him, for the\ntruncheon of his spear was in his body, and Sir Galahad start up behind\nhim, and held him in his arms, and so brought him to the abbey, and\nthere unarmed him and brought him to his chamber. And then he asked his\nSaviour. And when he had received Him he said unto Sir Galahad, Sir,\nlet death come when it pleaseth him. And therewith he drew out the\ntruncheon of the spear out of his body: and then he swooned. Then came\nthere an old monk, which sometime had been a knight, and beheld Sir\nMelias. And anon he ransacked him, and then he said unto Sir Galahad, I\nshall heal him of this wound, by the grace of God, within the term of\nseven weeks. Then was Sir Galahad glad, and unarmed him, and said he\nwould abide there three days. And then he asked Sir Melias how it stood\nwith him. Then he said, he was turned unto helping, God be thanked.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How Sir Galahad departed, and how he was commanded to go to the castle\n of maidens to destroy the wicked custom._\n\nNow will I depart, said Galahad, for I have much on hand, for many good\nknights be full busy about it, and this knight and I were in the same\nquest of the Sancgreal. Sir, said a good man, for his sin he was thus\nwounded: and I marvel, said the good man, how ye durst take upon you so\nrich a thing as the high order of knighthood without clean confession,\nand that was the cause ye were bitterly wounded. For the way on the\nright hand betokeneth the high way of our Lord Jesu Christ, and the way\nof a true good liver. And the other way betokeneth the way of sinners\nand of misbelievers. And when the devil saw your pride and presumption\nfor to take you in the quest of the holy Sancgreal, that made you to be\noverthrown, for it may not be achieved but by virtuous living. Also,\nthe writing on the cross was a signification of heavenly deeds, and of\nknightly deeds in God\u2019s works, and no knightly deeds in worldly works;\nand pride is head of all deadly sins, that caused this knight to depart\nfrom Sir Galahad: and where thou tookest the crown of gold thou\nsinnedst in covetise and in theft. All this were no knightly deeds. And\nthis Galahad the holy knight, the which fought with the two knights,\nthe two knights signify the two deadly sins which were wholly in this\nknight Sir Melias, and they might not withstand you, for ye are without\ndeadly sin. Now departed Galahad from thence, and betaught them all\nunto God. Sir Melias said, My lord Galahad, as soon as I may ride I\nshall seek you. God send you health, said Galahad; and so took his\nhorse and departed and rode many journeys forward and backward, as\nadventure would lead him. And at the last it happened him to depart\nfrom a place or a castle, the which was named Abblasoure, and he had\nheard no mass, the which he was wont ever to hear or that he departed\nout of any castle or place, and kept that for a custom. Then Sir\nGalahad came unto a mountain, where he found an old chapel, and found\nthere nobody, for all all was desolate, and there he kneeled tofore the\naltar, and besought God of wholesome counsel. So, as he prayed, he\nheard a voice that said, Go thou now, thou adventurous knight, to the\nCastle of Maidens, and there do thou away the wicked customs.\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n_How Sir Galahad fought with the knights of the castle, and destroyed\n the wicked custom._\n\nWhen Sir Galahad heard this he thanked God, and took his horse, and he\nhad not ridden but half a mile, he saw in a valley afore him a strong\ncastle with deep ditches, and there ran beside it a fair river, that\nhight Severn, and there he met with a man of great age, and either\nsaluted other, and Galahad asked him the castle\u2019s name? Fair sir, said\nhe, it is the Castle of Maidens. That is a cursed castle, said Galahad,\nand all they that be conversant therein; for all pity is out thereof,\nand all hardiness and mischief is therein.\u2014Therefore I counsel you,\nsir knight, to turn again. Sir, said Galahad, wit you well I shall not\nturn again. Then looked Sir Galahad on his arms that nothing failed\nhim, and then he put his shield afore him, and anon there met him seven\nfair maidens, the which said unto him, Sir knight, ye ride here in a\ngreat folly, for ye have the water to pass over. Why should I not pass\nthe water? said Galahad. So rode he away from them, and met with a\nsquire that said, Knight, those knights in the castle defy you, and\nforbid you, ye go no further till that they wit what ye would. Fair\nsir, said Galahad, I come for to destroy the wicked custom of this\ncastle.\u2014Sir, and ye will abide by that, ye shall have enough to\ndo.\u2014Go you now, said Galahad, and haste my needs. Then the squire\nentered into the castle. And anon after there came out of the castle\nseven knights, and all were brethren. And when they saw Galahad, they\ncried, Knight, keep thee, for we assure thee nothing but death. Why,\nsaid Galahad, will ye all have ado with me at once? Yea, said they,\nthereto mayest thou trust. Then Galahad put forth his spear, and smote\nthe foremost to the earth, that near he brake his neck. And therewith\nall the other smote him on his shield great strokes, so that their\nspears brake. Then Sir Galahad drew out his sword, and set upon them so\nhard that it was marvel to see it, and so, through great force, he made\nthem to forsake the field; and Galahad chased them till they entered\ninto the castle, and so passed through the castle at another gate. And\nthere met Sir Galahad an old man, clothed in religious clothing, and\nsaid, Sir, have here the keys of this castle. Then Sir Galahad opened\nthe gates, and saw so much people in the streets that he might not\nnumber them, and all said, Sir, ye be welcome, for long have we abiden\nhere our deliverance. Then came to him a gentlewoman, and said, These\nknights be fled, but they will come again this night, and here to begin\nagain their evil custom. What will ye that I shall do? said Galahad.\nSir, said the gentlewoman, that ye send after all the knights hither\nthat hold their lands of this castle, and make them to swear for to use\nthe customs that were used heretofore of old time. I will well, said\nGalahad. And there she brought him an horn of ivory, bounden with gold\nrichly, and said, Sir, blow this horn, which will be heard two mile\nabout this castle. When Sir Galahad had blown the horn he set him down\nupon a bed. Then came a priest unto Galahad, and said, Sir, it is past\na seven year agone that these seven brethren came into this castle, and\nharboured with the lord of this castle, that hight the duke Lianour,\nand he was lord of all this country. And when they espied the duke\u2019s\ndaughter that was a full fair woman, then by their false covin they\nmade debate betwixt themselves, and the duke of his goodness would have\ndeparted them; and there they slew him and his eldest son. And then\nthey took the maiden, and the treasure of the castle. And then by great\nforce they held all the knights of this castle against their will under\ntheir obeisance, and in great servage and truage, robbing and pilling\nthe poor common people of all that they had. So it happened on a day\nthe duke\u2019s daughter said, Ye have done unto me great wrong to slay mine\nown father and my brother, and thus to hold our lands: not for then,\nshe said, ye shall not hold this castle for many years, for by one\nknight ye shall be overcome. Thus she prophesied seven years agone.\nWell, said the seven knights, sithen ye say so, there shall never lady\nnor knight pass this castle, but they shall abide maugre their heads,\nor die therefore, till that knight be come by whom we shall lose this\ncastle. And therefore it is called the Maidens\u2019 Castle, for they have\ndevoured many maidens. Now, said Sir Galahad, is she here for whom this\ncastle was lost? Nay, said the priest, she was dead within these three\nnights after that she was thus enforced; and sithen have they kept her\nyounger sister, which endureth great pains with many other ladies. By\nthis were the knights of the country come. And then he made them do\nhomage and fealty to the duke\u2019s daughter, and set them in great ease of\nheart. And in the morn there came one to Galahad, and told him how that\nGawaine, Gareth, and Uwaine had slain the seven brethren. I suppose\nwell, said Sir Galahad: and took his armour and his horse and commended\nthem unto God.\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n_How Sir Gawaine came to the Abbey for to follow Galahad, and how he\n was shriven to a Hermit._\n\nNow, saith the tale, after Sir Gawaine departed, he rode many journeys\nboth toward and froward. And at the last he came to the abbey where Sir\nGalahad had the white shield. And there Sir Gawaine learned the way to\nsue after Sir Galahad, and so he rode to the abbey where Melias lay\nsick, and there Sir Melias told Sir Gawaine of the marvellous adventure\nthat Sir Galahad did. Certes, said Sir Gawaine, I am not happy that I\ntook not the way that he went; for, and I may meet with him, I will not\ndepart from him lightly, for all marvellous adventures Sir Galahad\nachieveth. Sir, said one of the monks, he will not of your fellowship.\nWhy? said Sir Gawaine. Sir, said he, for ye be wicked and sinful, and\nhe is full blessed.\n\nRight as they thus stood talking together, there came in riding Sir\nGareth. And then they made joy either of other. And on the morn they\nheard mass, and so departed. And by the way they met with Sir Uwaine\nles Avoutres. And there Sir Uwaine told Sir Gawaine how he had met with\nnone adventure sith he departed from the court. Nor we, said Sir\nGawaine. And either promised other of those three knights not to depart\nwhile that they were in that quest, but if fortune caused it. So they\ndeparted and rode by fortune till that they came by the Castle of\nMaidens. And there the seven brethren espied the three knights, and\nsaid, Sithen we be banished by one knight from this castle, we shall\ndestroy all the knights of king Arthur\u2019s that we may overcome, for the\nlove of Sir Galahad. And therewith the seven knights set upon the three\nknights: and by fortune Sir Gawaine slew one of the brethren, and each\none of his fellows slew another, and so slew the remnant. And then they\ntook the way under the castle; and there they lost the way that Sir\nGalahad rode, and there every each of them departed from other, and Sir\nGawaine rode till he came to an hermitage, and there he found the good\nman saying his evensong of Our Lady. And there Sir Gawaine asked\nharbour for charity, and the good man granted it him gladly. Then the\ngood man asked him what he was? Sir, he said, I am a knight of king\nArthur\u2019s, that am in the quest of the Sancgreal, and my name is Sir\nGawaine. Sir, said the good man, I would wit how it standeth betwixt\nGod and you? Sir, said Sir Gawaine, I will with a good will shew you my\nlife, if it please you. And there he told the hermit how a monk of an\nabbey called me wicked knight. He might well say it, said the hermit,\nfor when ye were first made knight, ye should have taken you to\nknightly deeds and virtuous living, and ye have done the contrary, for\nye have lived mischievously many winters, and Sir Galahad is a maid,\nand sinned never, and that is the cause he shall achieve where he goeth\nthat ye nor none such shall not attain, nor none in your fellowship;\nfor ye have used the most untruest life that ever I heard knight live.\nFor, certes, had ye not been so wicked as ye are, never had the seven\nbrethren been slain by you and your two fellows. For Sir Galahad,\nhimself alone, beat them all seven the day before, but his living is\nsuch he shall slay no man lightly. Also I may say you, the Castle of\nMaidens betokeneth the good souls that were in prison afore the\nIncarnation of Jesu Christ. And the seven knights betoken the seven\ndeadly sins that reigned that time in the world. And I may liken the\ngood Galahad unto the Son of the High Father, that light within a maid,\nand bought all the souls out of thrall: so did Sir Galahad deliver all\nthe maidens out of the woful castle. Now, Sir Gawaine, said the good\nman, thou must do penance for thy sin.\u2014Sir, what penance shall I\ndo?\u2014Such as I will give, said the good man. Nay, said Sir Gawaine, I\nmay do no penance; for we knights adventurous often suffer great woe\nand pain. Well, said the good man, and then he held his peace. And on\nthe morn Sir Gawaine departed from the hermit, and betaught him unto\nGod. And by adventure he met with Sir Aglovale and Sir Griflet, two\nknights of the Table Round. And they two rode four days without finding\nof any adventure, and at the fifth day they departed. And every each\nheld as fell them by adventure.\n\nHere leaveth the tale of Sir Gawaine and his fellows, and speak we of\nSir Galahad.\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n_How Sir Galahad met with Sir Launcelot and with Sir Percivale, and\n smote them down, and departed from them._\n\nSo when Sir Galahad was departed from the Castle of Maidens, he rode\ntill he came to a waste forest, and there he met with Sir Launcelot and\nSir Percivale, but they knew him not, for he was new disguised. Right\nso, Sir Launcelot his father dressed his spear, and brake it upon Sir\nGalahad, and Sir Galahad smote him so again, that he smote down horse\nand man. And then he drew his sword, and dressed him unto Sir\nPercivale, and smote him so on the helm that it rove to the coif of\nsteel, and had not the sword swerved Sir Percivale had been slain, and\nwith the stroke he fell out of his saddle. This justs was done tofore\nthe hermitage where a recluse dwelled. And when she saw Sir Galahad\nride, she said, God be with thee, best knight of the world. Ah certes,\nsaid she all aloud, that Launcelot and Percivale might hear it, and\nyonder two knights had known thee as well as I do, they would not have\nencountered with thee. When Sir Galahad heard her say so he was sore\nadread to be known: therewith he smote his horse with his spurs, and\nrode a great pace froward them. Then perceived they both that he was\nGalahad, and up they gat on their horses, and rode fast after him, but\nin a while he was out of their sight. And then they turned again with\nheavy cheer. Let us spere some tidings, said Percivale, at yonder\nrecluse. Do as ye list, said Sir Launcelot. When Sir Percivale came to\nthe recluse, she knew him well enough, and Sir Launcelot both. But Sir\nLauncelot rode overthwart and endlong in a wild forest, and held no\npath, but as wild adventure led him. And at the last he came to a stony\ncross, which departed two ways in waste land, and by the cross was a\nstone that was of marble, but it was so dark that Sir Launcelot might\nnot wit what it was. Then Sir Launcelot looked by him, and saw an old\nchapel, and there he wend to have found people. And Sir Launcelot tied\nhis horse till a tree, and there he did off his shield, and hung it\nupon a tree. And then he went to the chapel door, and found it waste\nand broken. And within he found a fair altar full richly arrayed with\ncloth of clean silk, and there stood a fair clean candlestick which\nbare six great candles, and the candlestick was of silver. And when Sir\nLauncelot saw this light, he had great will for to enter into the\nchapel, but he could find no place where he might enter: then was he\npassing heavy and dismayed. Then he returned and came to his horse, and\ndid off his saddle and bridle, and let him pasture; and unlaced his\nhelm, and ungirded his sword, and laid him down to sleep upon his\nshield tofore the cross.\n\n\n CHAP. XVIII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot, half sleeping and half waking, saw a sick man borne\n in a litter, and how he was healed with the Sangreal._\n\nAnd so he fell on sleep, and half waking and half sleeping he saw come\nby him two palfreys all fair and white, the which bare a litter,\ntherein lying a sick knight. And when he was nigh the cross, he there\nabode still. All this Sir Launcelot saw and beheld, for he slept not\nverily; and he heard him say, Oh, sweet Lord, when shall this sorrow\nleave me? and when shall the holy vessel come by me where through I\nshall be blessed? For I have endured thus long for little trespass. A\nfull great while complained the knight thus, and always Sir Launcelot\nheard it. With that Sir Launcelot saw the candlestick with the six\ntapers come before the cross, and he saw nobody that brought it. Also\nthere came a table of silver, and the holy vessel of the Sancgreal,\nwhich Sir Launcelot had seen aforetime in king Peschour\u2019s house. And\ntherewith the sick knight set him up, and held up both his hands, and\nsaid, Fair sweet Lord, which is here within this holy vessel, take heed\nunto me, that I may be whole of this malady. And therewith on his hands\nand on his knees he went so nigh that he touched the holy vessel, and\nkissed it, and anon he was whole, and then he said, Lord God I thank\nthee, for I am healed of this sickness. So when the holy vessel had\nbeen there a great while it went unto the chapel, with the chandelier\nand the light, so that Launcelot wist not where it was become, for he\nwas overtaken with sin that he had no power to arise against the holy\nvessel; wherefore after that many men said of him shame, but he took\nrepentance after that. Then the sick knight dressed him up, and kissed\nthe cross. Anon his squire brought him his arms, and asked his lord how\nhe did? Certes, said he, I thank God right well, through the holy\nvessel I am healed. But I have great marvel of this sleeping knight,\nthat had no power to awake when this holy vessel was brought hither. I\ndare right well say, said the squire, that he dwelleth in some deadly\nsin, whereof he was never confessed. By my faith, said the knight,\nwhatsoever he be he is unhappy, for as I deem he is of the fellowship\nof the Round Table, the which is entered into the quest of the\nSancgreal. Sir, said the squire, here I have brought you all your arms,\nsave your helm and your sword, and therefore by my assent now may ye\ntake this knight\u2019s helm and his sword. And so he did. And when he was\nclean armed he took Sir Launcelot\u2019s horse, for he was better than his\nown: and so departed they from the cross.\n\n\n CHAP. XIX.\n\n_How a voice spake to Sir Launcelot, and how he found his horse and his\n helm borne away, and after went afoot._\n\nThen anon Sir Launcelot waked, and set him up, and bethought him what\nhe had seen there, and whether it were dreams or not. Right so heard he\na voice that said, Sir Launcelot, more harder than is the stone, and\nmore bitter than is the wood, and more naked and barer than is the leaf\nof the fig-tree, therefore go thou from hence and withdraw thee from\nthis holy place. And when Sir Launcelot heard this he was passing\nheavy, and wist not what to do, and so departed, sore weeping, and\ncursed the time that he was born. For then he deemed never to have had\nworship more. For those words went to his heart, till that he knew\nwherefore he was called so. Then Sir Launcelot went to the cross, and\nfound his helm, his sword, and his horse, taken away. And then he\ncalled himself a very wretch, and most unhappy of all knights: and\nthere he said, My sin and my wickedness have brought me unto great\ndishonour. For when I sought worldly adventures for worldly desires I\never achieved them, and had the better in every place, and never was I\ndiscomfit in no quarrel, were it right or wrong. And now I take upon me\nthe adventures of holy things, and now I see and understand that mine\nold sin hindereth me, and shameth me, so that I had no power to stir\nnor to speak when the holy blood appeared afore me. So thus he sorrowed\ntill it was day, and heard the fowls sing: then somewhat he was\ncomforted. But when Sir Launcelot missed his horse and his harness,\nthen he wist well God was displeased with him. Then he departed from\nthe cross on foot into a forest. And so by prime he came to an high\nhill, and found an hermitage, and an hermit therein, which was going\nunto mass. And then Launcelot kneeled down and cried on our Lord mercy\nfor his wicked works. So when mass was done, Launcelot called him, and\nprayed him for charity for to hear his life. With a good will, said the\ngood man. Sir, said he, be ye of king Arthur\u2019s court, and of the\nfellowship of the Round Table? Yea forsooth, and my name is Sir\nLauncelot du Lake, that hath been right well said of, and now my good\nfortune is changed, for I am the most wretch of the world. The hermit\nbeheld him, and had marvel how he was so abashed. Sir, said the hermit,\nye ought to thank God more than any knight living; for He hath caused\nyou to have more worldly worship than any knight that now liveth. And\nfor your presumption to take upon you in deadly sin for to be in His\npresence, where His flesh and His blood was, that caused you ye might\nnot see it with worldly eyes, for He will not appear where such sinners\nbe, but if it be unto their great hurt, and unto their great shame. And\nthere is no knight living now that ought to give God so great thanks as\nye; for He hath given you beauty, seemliness, and great strength, above\nall other knights, and therefore ye are the more beholding unto God\nthan any other man to love Him and dread Him; for your strength and\nmanhood will little avail you and God be against you.\n\n\n CHAP. XX.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot was shriven, and what sorrow he made; and of the\n good ensamples which were shewed him._\n\nThen Sir Launcelot wept with heavy cheer, and said, Now I know well ye\nsay me sooth. Sir, said the good man, hide none old sin from me. Truly,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, that were me full loth to discover. For this\nfourteen years I never discovered one thing that I have used, and that\nmay I now blame my shame and my misadventure. And then he told there\nthat good man all his life, and how he had loved a queen unmeasurably,\nand out of measure long;\u2014and all my great deeds of arms that I have\ndone, I did the most part for the queen\u2019s sake, and for her sake would\nI do battle were it right or wrong, and never did I battle all only for\nGod\u2019s sake, but for to win worship, and to cause me to be the better\nbeloved, and little or nought I thanked God of it. Then Sir Launcelot\nsaid, I pray you counsel me. I will counsel you, said the hermit, if ye\nwill ensure me that ye will never come in that queen\u2019s fellowship, as\nmuch as ye may forbear. And then Sir Launcelot promised him he would\nnot, by the faith of his body. Look that your heart and your mouth\naccord, said the good man, and I shall ensure you ye shall have more\nworship than ever ye had. Holy father, said Sir Launcelot, I marvel of\nthe voice that said to me marvellous words, as ye have heard\ntoforehand. Have ye no marvel, said the good man, thereof; for it\nseemeth well God loveth you; for men may understand a stone is hard of\nkind, and namely one more than another, and that is to understand by\nthee Sir Launcelot, for thou wilt not leave thy sin for no goodness\nthat God hath sent thee, therefore thou art more than any stone, and\nnever wouldest thou be made soft nor by water nor by fire, and that is,\nthe heat of the Holy Ghost may not enter in thee. Now take heed; in all\nthe world men shall not find one knight to whom our Lord hath given so\nmuch of grace as He hath given you: for He hath given you fairness with\nseemliness: He hath given thee wit, discretion to know good from evil:\nHe hath given thee prowess and hardiness; and given thee to work so\nlargely that thou hast had at all days the better wheresoever thou\ncamest. And now our Lord will suffer thee no longer, but that thou\nshalt know Him, whether thou wilt or nilt. And why the voice called\nthee bitterer than wood, for where overmuch sin dwelleth, there may be\nbut little sweetness, wherefore thou art likened to an old rotten tree.\nNow have I shewed thee why thou art harder than the stone, and bitterer\nthan the tree. Now shall I shew thee why thou art more naked and barer\nthan the fig-tree. It befell that our Lord on Palm-Sunday preached in\nJerusalem, and there He found in the people that all hardness was\nharboured in them, and there He found in all the town not one that\nwould harbour Him. And then He went without the town, and found in the\nmidst of the way a fig-tree, the which was right fair and well\ngarnished of leaves, but fruit had it none. Then our Lord cursed the\ntree that bare no fruit; that betokeneth the fig-tree unto Jerusalem,\nthat had leaves and no fruit. So thou, Sir Launcelot, when the holy\nGraile was brought afore thee, He found in thee no fruit, nor good\nthought nor good will, and defouled with lechery. Certes, said Sir\nLauncelot, all that ye have said is true, and from henceforward I cast\nme by the grace of God never to be so wicked as I have been, but as to\nfollow knighthood, and to do feats of arms. Then the good man enjoined\nSir Launcelot such penance as he might do, and to sue knighthood, and\nso he assoiled him and prayed Sir Launcelot to abide with him all that\nday. I will well, said Sir Launcelot, for I have neither helm, nor\nhorse, nor sword. As for that, said the good man, I shall help you or\nto-morn at even of an horse, and all that longeth unto you. And then\nSir Launcelot repented him greatly.\n\n Here leueth of the history of syr launcelot. And here foloweth of syr\n Percyuale de galys which is the xiiii. book.\n\n\n\n\n The Fourteenth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How Sir Percivale came to a recluse, and asked counsel; and how she\n told him that she was his aunt._\n\nNow saith the tale, that when Sir Launcelot was ridden after Sir\nGalahad, the which had all these adventures above said, Sir Percivale\nturned again unto the recluse, where he deemed to have tidings of that\nknight that Launcelot followed. And so he kneeled at her window, and\nthe recluse opened it, and asked Sir Percivale what he would? Madam, he\nsaid, I am a knight of king Arthur\u2019s court, and my name is Sir\nPercivale de Galis. When the recluse heard his name, she had great joy\nof him, for mickle she had loved him tofore any other knight, for she\nought to do so, for she was his aunt. And then she commanded the gates\nto be opened, and there he had all the cheer that she might make him,\nand all that was in her power was at his commandment. So, on the morn,\nSir Percivale went to the recluse, and asked her if she knew that\nknight with the white shield? Sir, said she, why would ye wit? Truly,\nmadam, said Sir Percivale, I shall never be well at ease till that I\nknow of that knight\u2019s fellowship, and that I may fight with him, for I\nmay not leave him so lightly, for I have the shame yet. Ah, Percivale,\nsaid she, would ye fight with him? I see well ye have great will to be\nslain as your father was, through outrageousness. Madam, said Sir\nPercivale, it seemeth by your words that ye know me? Yea, said she, I\nwell ought to know you, for I am your aunt, although I be in a priory\nplace. For some called me sometime the queen of the Waste Lands, and I\nwas called the queen of most riches in the world; and it pleased me\nnever my riches so much as doth my poverty. Then Sir Percivale wept for\nvery pity, when he knew it was his aunt. Ah, fair nephew, said she,\nwhen heard ye tidings of your mother? Truly, said he, I heard none of\nher, but I dream of her much in my sleep, and therefore I wot not\nwhether she be dead or on live. Certes, fair nephew, said she, your\nmother is dead; for after your departing from her, she took such a\nsorrow that anon after she was confessed she died. Now God have mercy\non her soul, said Sir Percivale, it sore forethinketh me; but all we\nmust change the life. Now fair aunt, tell me what is the knight? I deem\nit be he that bare the red arms on Whitsunday. Wit you well, said she,\nthat this is he, for otherwise ought he not to do, but to go in red\narms, and that same knight hath no peer, for he worketh all by miracle,\nand he shall never be overcome of no earthly man\u2019s hand.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How Merlin likened the Round Table to the world, and how the knights\n that should achieve the Sangreal should be known._\n\nAlso Merlin made the Round Table in tokening of the roundness of the\nworld, for by the Round Table is the world signified by right. For all\nthe world, Christian and heathen, repair unto the Round Table, and when\nthey are chosen to be of the fellowship of the Round Table, they think\nthem more blessed, and more in worship, than if they had gotten half\nthe world; and ye have seen that they have lost their fathers and their\nmothers, and all their kin, and their wives and their children, for to\nbe of your fellowship. It is well seen by you; for since ye departed\nfrom your mother ye would never see her, ye found such a fellowship at\nthe Round Table. When Merlin had ordained the Round Table, he said, by\nthem which should be fellows of the Round Table the truth of the\nSancgreal should be well known. And men asked him how men might know\nthem that should best do, and to achieve the Sancgreal? then he said\nthere should be three white bulls that should achieve it, and the two\nshould be maidens, and the third should be chaste. And that one of the\nthree should pass his father as much as the lion passeth the libard,\nboth of strength and hardiness. They that heard Merlin say so, said\nthus unto Merlin: Sithen there shall be such a knight, thou shouldst\nordain by thy crafts a siege that no man should sit in it but he all\nonly that shall pass all other knights. Then Merlin answered that he\nwould do so. And then he made the siege perilous, in the which Galahad\nsat in at his meat on Whitsunday last past. Now madam, said Sir\nPercivale, so much have I heard of you, that by my good will I will\nnever have ado with Sir Galahad, but by way of kindness. And for God\u2019s\nlove, fair aunt, can ye teach me some way where I may find him, for\nmuch would I love the fellowship of him? Fair nephew, said she, ye must\nride unto a castle the which is called Goothe, where he hath a cousin\ngerman, and there may ye be lodged this night. And as he teacheth you,\nsue after as fast as ye can, and if he can tell you no tidings of him,\nride straight unto the castle of Carbonek, where the maimed king is\nthere lying, for there shall ye hear true tidings of him.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How Sir Percivale came into a monastery, where he found king Evelake,\n which was an old man._\n\nThen departed Sir Percivale from his aunt, either making great sorrow.\nAnd so he rode till evensong time. And then he heard a clock smite. And\nthen he was ware of a house closed well with walls and deep ditches,\nand there he knocked at the gate, and was let in, and he alight, and\nwas led unto a chamber, and soon he was unarmed. And there he had right\ngood cheer all that night, and on the morn he heard his mass, and in\nthe monastery he found a priest ready at the altar. And on the right\nside he saw a pew closed with iron, and behind the altar he saw a rich\nbed and a fair, as of cloth of silk and gold. Then Sir Percivale espied\nthat therein was a man or a woman, for the visage was covered. Then he\nleft off his looking, and heard his service. And when it came to the\nsacring, he that lay within that perclose dressed him up, and uncovered\nhis head, and then him beseemed a passing old man, and he had a crown\nof gold upon his head, and his shoulders were naked and uncovered unto\nhis middle. And then Sir Percivale espied his body was full of great\nwounds, both on the shoulders, arms, and visage. And ever he held up\nhis hands unto our Lord\u2019s body, and cried, Fair sweet Father Jesu\nChrist, forget not me, and so he lay down, but always he was in his\nprayers and orisons: and him seemed to be of the age of three hundred\nwinter. And when the mass was done, the priest took our Lord\u2019s body and\nbare it to the sick king. And when he had used it, he did off his\ncrown, and commanded the crown to be set on the altar. Then Sir\nPercivale asked one of the brethren what he was. Sir, said the good\nman, ye have heard much of Joseph of Armathie, how he was sent by Jesu\nChrist into this land, for to teach and preach the holy christian\nfaith, and therefore he suffered many persecutions, the which the\nenemies of Christ did unto him. And in the city of Sarras he converted\na king whose name was Evelake. And so this king came with Joseph into\nthis land: and always he was busy to be there as the Sancgreal was, and\non a time he nighed it so nigh that our Lord was displeased with him,\nbut ever he followed it more and more, till God struck him almost\nblind. Then this king cried mercy, and said, Fair Lord, let me never\ndie till the good knight of my blood of the ninth degree be come, that\nI may see him openly that he shall achieve the Sancgreal, that I may\nkiss him.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How Sir Percivale saw many men of arms, bearing a dead knight, and how\n he fought against them._\n\nWhen the king thus had made his prayers, he heard a voice that said,\nHeard be thy prayers, for thou shalt not die till he have kissed thee:\nand when that knight shall come, the clearness of your eyes shall come\nagain, and thou shalt see openly, and thy wounds shall be healed, and\nerst shall they never close. And this befell of king Evelake: and this\nsame king hath lived this three hundred winters this holy life. And men\nsay the knight is in the court that shall heal him. Sir, said the good\nman, I pray you tell me what knight that ye be, and if ye be of king\nArthur\u2019s court and of the Table Round? Yea, forsooth, said he, and my\nname is Sir Percivale de Galis. And when the good man understood his\nname, he made great joy of him. And then Sir Percivale departed, and\nrode till the hour of noon. And he met in a valley about twenty men of\narms, which bear in a bier a knight deadly slain. And when they saw Sir\nPercivale, they asked him of whence he was? and he answered, Of the\ncourt of king Arthur. Then they cried all at once, Slay him. Then Sir\nPercivale smote the first to the earth, and his horse upon him. And\nthen seven of the knights smote upon his shield all at once, and the\nremnant slew his horse, so that he fell to the earth. So had they slain\nhim or taken him, had not the good knight Sir Galahad, with the red\narms, come there by adventure into those parts. And when he saw all\nthose knights upon one knight, he cried, Save me that knight\u2019s life.\nAnd then he dressed him toward the twenty men of arms as fast as his\nhorse might drive, with his spear in the rest, and smote the foremost\nhorse and man to the earth. And when his spear was broken he set his\nhand to his sword, and smote on the right hand and on the left hand,\nthat it was marvel to see. And at every stroke he smote one down, or\nput him to a rebuke, so that they would fight no more, but fled to a\nthick forest, and Sir Galahad followed them. And when Sir Percivale saw\nhim chase them so, he made great sorrow that his horse was away. And\nthen he wist well it was Sir Galahad. And then he cried aloud, Ah fair\nknight, abide and suffer me to do thankings unto thee, for much have ye\ndone for me! But ever Sir Galahad rode so fast, that at the last he\npassed out of his sight. And as fast as Sir Percivale might he went\nafter him on foot, crying. And then he met with a yeoman riding upon an\nhackney, the which led in his hand a great black steed, blacker than\nany bear. Ah fair friend, said Sir Percivale, as ever I may do for you,\nand to be your true knight in the first place ye will require me, that\nye will lend me that black steed, that I might overtake a knight, the\nwhich rideth afore me. Sir knight, said the yeoman, I pray you hold me\nexcused of that, for that I may not do. For wit ye well, the horse is\nsuch a man\u2019s horse, that, and I lent it you or any other man, that he\nwould slay me. Alas, said Sir Percivale, I had never so great sorrow as\nI have had for losing of yonder knight. Sir, said the yeoman, I am\nright heavy for you, for a good horse would beseem you well, but I dare\nnot deliver you this horse, but if ye would take him from me. That will\nI not do, said Sir Percivale. And so they departed, and Sir Percivale\nsat him down under a tree, and made sorrow out of measure. And as he\nwas there, there came a knight riding on the horse that the yeoman led,\nand he was clean armed.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How a yeoman desired him to get again an horse, and how Sir\n Percivale\u2019s hackney was slain, and how he gat an horse._\n\nAnd anon the yeoman came pricking after as fast as ever he might, and\nasked Sir Percivale if he saw any knight riding on his black steed? Yea\nsir, forsooth, said he, why ask ye me that? Ah, sir, that steed he hath\ntaken from me with strength, wherefore my lord will slay me in what\nplace he findeth me. Well, said Sir Percivale, what wouldest thou that\nI did? thou seest well that I am on foot, but and I had a good horse I\nshould bring him soon again. Sir, said the yeoman, take mine hackney\nand do the best ye can, and I shall follow you on foot, to wit how that\nye shall speed. Then Sir Percivale alight upon that hackney, and rode\nas fast as he might. And at the last he saw that knight. And then he\ncried, Knight, turn again; and he turned, and set his spear against Sir\nPercivale, and he smote the hackney in the midst of the breast, that he\nfell down dead to the earth, and there he had a great fall, and the\nother rode his way. And then Sir Percivale was wood wroth, and cried,\nAbide, wicked knight, coward and false-hearted knight, turn again and\nfight with me on foot. But he answered not, but past on his way. When\nSir Percivale saw he would not turn, he cast away his helm and sword,\nand said, Now am I a very wretch, cursed, and most unhappy above all\nother knights. So in this sorrow he abode all that day till it was\nnight, and then he was faint, and laid him down and slept till it was\nmidnight. And then he awaked, and saw afore him a woman which said unto\nhim right fiercely, Sir Percivale, what doest thou here? He answered\nand said, I do neither good nor great ill. If thou wilt ensure me, said\nshe, that thou wilt fulfil my will when I summon thee, I shall lend\nthee mine own horse, which shall bear thee whither thou wilt. Sir\nPercivale was glad of her proffer, and ensured her to fulfil all her\ndesire.\u2014Then abide me here, and I shall go fetch you an horse. And so\nshe came soon again, and brought an horse with her that was inly black.\nWhen Sir Percivale beheld that horse, he marvelled that it was so great\nand so well apparelled: and not for then he was so hardy, and he lept\nupon him, and took none heed of himself. And so anon as he was upon him\nhe thrust to him with his spurs, and so rode by a forest, and the moon\nshone clear. And within an hour and less, he bare him four days\u2019\njourney thence, till he came to a rough water the which roared, and his\nhorse would have borne him into it.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_Of the great danger that Sir Percivale was in by his horse, and how he\n saw a serpent and a lion fight._\n\nAnd when Sir Percivale came nigh the brim, and saw the water so\nboisterous, he doubted to overpass it. And then he made a sign of the\ncross in his forehead. When the fiend felt him so charged, he shook off\nSir Percivale, and he went into the water, crying and roaring, making\ngreat sorrow; and it seemed unto him that the water burnt. Then Sir\nPercivale perceived it was a fiend, the which would have brought him\nunto his perdition. Then he commended himself unto God, and prayed our\nLord to keep him from all such temptations. And so he prayed all that\nnight, till on the morn that it was day. Then he saw that he was in a\nwild mountain the which was closed with the sea nigh all about, that he\nmight see no land about him which might relieve him, but wild beasts.\nAnd then he went into a valley, and there he saw a young serpent bring\na young lion by the neck, and so he came by Sir Percivale. With that\ncame a great lion crying and roaring after the serpent. And as fast as\nSir Percivale saw this, he marvelled, and hied him thither, but anon\nthe lion had overtaken the serpent, and began battle with him. And then\nSir Percivale thought to help the lion, for he was the more natural\nbeast of the two; and therewith he drew his sword, and set his shield\nafore him, and there gave the serpent such a buffet that he had a\ndeadly wound. When the lion saw that, he made no resemblant to fight\nwith him, but made him all the cheer that a beast might make a man.\nThen Sir Percivale perceived that, and cast down his shield, which was\nbroken, and then he did off his helm for to gather wind, for he was\ngreatly enchafed with the serpent. And the lion went alway about him\nfawning as a spaniel. And then he stroked him on the neck and on the\nshoulders. And then he thanked God of the fellowship of that beast. And\nabout noon, the lion took his little whelp, and trussed him, and bare\nhim there he came from. Then was Sir Percivale alone. And as the tale\ntelleth, he was one of the men of the world at that time that most\nbelieved in our Lord Jesu Christ. For in these days there were few\nfolks that believed in God perfectly. For in those days the son spared\nnot the father no more than a stranger. And so Sir Percivale comforted\nhimself in our Lord Jesu, and besought God that no temptation should\nbring him out of God\u2019s service, but to endure as his true champion.\nThus when Sir Percivale had prayed, he saw the lion come toward him,\nand then he couched down at his feet. And so all that night the lion\nand he slept together: and when Sir Percivale slept he dreamed a\nmarvellous dream, that there two ladies met with him, and that one sat\nupon a lion, and that other sat upon a serpent, and that one of them\nwas young, and the other was old, and the youngest him thought said,\nSir Percivale, my lord saluteth thee, and sendeth thee word that thou\narray thee and make thee ready, for to-morn thou must fight with the\nstrongest champion of the world. And if thou be overcome, thou shalt\nnot be quit for losing of any of thy members, but thou shalt be shamed\nfor ever to the world\u2019s end. And then he asked her what was her lord.\nAnd she said, the greatest lord of all the world. And so she departed\nsuddenly, that he wist not where.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_Of the vision that Sir Percivale saw, and how his vision was\n expounded, and of his lion._\n\nThen came forth the other lady that rode upon the serpent, and she\nsaid, Sir Percivale, I complain me of you that ye have done unto me,\nand have not offended unto you. Certes, madam, said he, unto you nor no\nlady I never offended. Yes, said she, I shall tell you why. I have\nnourished in this place a great while a serpent, which served me a\ngreat while, and yesterday ye slew him as he gat his prey. Say me for\nwhat cause ye slew him, for the lion was not yours? Madam, said Sir\nPercivale, I know well the lion was not mine, but I did it, for the\nlion is of a more gentler nature than the serpent, and therefore I slew\nhim; me seemeth I did not amiss against you. Madam, said he, what would\nye that I did? I would, said she, for the amends of my beast that ye\nbecome my man. And then he answered, That will I not grant you. No,\nsaid she, truly ye were never but my servant, since ye received the\nhomage of our Lord Jesu Christ. Therefore I ensure you in what place I\nmay find you without keeping, I shall take you as he that sometime was\nmy man. And so she departed from Sir Percivale, and left him sleeping,\nthe which was sore travailed of his vision. And on the morn he rose and\nblessed him, and he was passing feeble. Then was Sir Percivale ware in\nthe sea, and saw a ship come sailing toward him, and Sir Percivale went\nunto the ship, and found it covered within and without with white\nsamite. And at the board stood an old man clothed in a surplice in\nlikeness of a priest. Sir, said Sir Percivale, ye be welcome. God keep\nyou, said the good man. Sir, said the old man, of whence be ye? Sir,\nsaid Sir Percivale, I am of king Arthur\u2019s court, and a knight of the\nTable Round, the which am in the quest of the Sancgreal, and here I am\nin great duresse, and never like to escape out of this wilderness.\nDoubt not, said the good man, and ye be so true a knight as the order\nof chivalry requireth, and of heart as ye ought to be, ye should not\ndoubt that none enemy should slay you. What are ye? said Sir Percivale.\nSir, said the old man, I am of a strange country, and hither I come to\ncomfort you. Sir, said Sir Percivale, what signifieth my dream that I\ndreamed this night? And there he told him altogether. She which rode\nupon the lion, said the good man, betokeneth the new law of holy\nChurch, that is to understand faith, good hope, belief, and baptism.\nFor she seemed younger than the other, it is great reason, for she was\nborn in the resurrection and the passion of our Lord Jesu Christ. And\nfor great love she came to thee, to warn thee of thy great battle that\nshall befall thee. With whom, said Sir Percivale, shall I fight? With\nthe most champion of the world, said the old man, for, as the lady\nsaid, but if thou quit thee well, thou shalt not be quit by losing of\none member, but thou shalt be shamed to the world\u2019s end. And she that\nrode upon the serpent signifieth the old law, and that serpent\nbetokeneth a fiend. And why she blamed thee that thou slewest her\nservant, it betokeneth nothing: the serpent that thou slewest\nbetokeneth the devil that thou rodest upon to the rock, and when thou\nmadest a sign of the cross, there thou slewest him, and put away his\npower. And when she asked thee amends and to become her man, and thou\nsaidest thou wouldest not, that was to make thee to believe on her and\nleave thy baptism. So he commanded Sir Percivale to depart. And so he\nlept over the board, and the ship and all went away he wist not\nwhither. Then he went up unto the rock and found the lion, which alway\nkept him fellowship, and he stroked him upon the back, and had great\njoy of him.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How Sir Percivale saw a ship coming to him-ward, and how the lady of\n the ship told him of her disheritance._\n\nBy that Sir Percivale had abiden there till midday he saw a ship come\nrowing in the sea as all the wind of the world had driven it. And so it\ndrove under that rock. And when Sir Percivale saw this, he hied him\nthither, and found the ship covered with silk more blacker than any\nbier, and therein was a gentlewoman of great beauty, and she was\nclothed richly that none might be better. And when she saw Sir\nPercivale, she said, Who brought you in this wilderness where ye be\nnever like to pass hence? for ye shall die here for hunger and\nmischief. Damsel, said Sir Percivale, I serve the best man of the\nworld, and in his service he will not suffer me to die, for who that\nknocketh shall enter, and who that asketh shall have, and who that\nseeketh him, he hideth him not. But then she said, Sir Percivale wot ye\nwhat I am? Yea, said he. Now who taught you my name? said she. Now,\nsaid Sir Percivale, I know you better than ye ween. And I came out of\nthe waste forest, where I found the red knight with the white shield,\nsaid the damsel. Ah damsel, said he, with that knight would I meet\npassing fain. Sir, said she, and ye will ensure me, by the faith that\nye owe unto knighthood, that ye shall do my will what time I summon\nyou, I shall bring you unto that knight. Yea, said he, I shall promise\nyou to fulfil your desire. Well, said she, now shall I tell you, I saw\nhim in the forest chasing two knights to a water, the which is called\nMortaise, and he drove them into that water for dread of death, and the\ntwo knights passed over, and the red knight passed after, and there his\nhorse was drenched, and he through great strength escaped unto the\nland. Thus she told him, and Sir Percivale was passing glad thereof.\nThen she asked him if he had eaten any meat late? Nay madam, truly I\nate no meat nigh these three days, but late here I spake with a good\nman that fed me with his good words and holy, and refreshed me greatly.\nAh, sir knight, said she, that same man is an enchanter, and a\nmultiplier of words. For, and ye believe him, ye shall plainly be\nshamed, and die in this rock for pure hunger, and be eaten with wild\nbeasts, and ye be a young man and a goodly knight, and I shall help you\nand ye will. What are ye? said Sir Percivale, that proffereth me thus\ngreat kindness. I am, said she, a gentlewoman that am disherited, which\nwas sometime the richest woman of the world. Damsel, said Sir\nPercivale, who hath disherited you, for I have great pity of you? Sir,\nsaid she, I dwelled with the greatest man of the world, and he made me\nso fair and so clear that there was none like me, and of that great\nbeauty I had a little pride, more than I ought to have had. Also, I\nsaid a word that pleased him not. And then he would not suffer me to be\nany longer in his company, and so drove me from mine heritage, and so\ndisherited me, and he had never pity of me nor of none of my council,\nnor of my court. And sithen, sir knight, it hath befallen me so, and\nthrough me and mine I have taken from him many of his men, and made\nthem to become my men. For they ask never nothing of me but I give it\nthem, that and much more. Thus I and all my servants war against him\nnight and day. Therefore I know now no good knight, nor no good man,\nbut I get them on my side and I may. And for that I know that thou art\na good knight, I beseech you to help me. And for ye be a fellow of the\nRound Table, wherefore ye ought not to fail no gentlewoman which is\ndisherited, and she besought you of help.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How Sir Percivale promised her help, and how he required her of love,\n and how he was saved from the fiend._\n\nThen Sir Percivale promised her all the help that he might. And then\nshe thanked him. And at that time the weather was hot, and then she\ncalled unto her a gentlewoman, and bad her bring forth a pavilion; and\nso she did, and pight it upon the gravel. Sir, said she, now may ye\nrest you in this heat of the day. Then he thanked her, and she put off\nhis helm and his shield, and there he slept a great while. And then he\nawoke, and asked her if she had any meat, and she said, Yea, also ye\nshall have enough; and so there was set enough upon the table, and\nthereon so much that he had marvel for there was all manner of meats\nthat he could think on. Also he drank there the strongest wine that\never he drank, him thought, and therewith he was a little heated more\nthan he ought to be. With that he beheld the gentlewoman, and him\nthought that she was the fairest creature that ever he saw. And then\nSir Percivale proffered her love, and prayed her that she would be his.\nThen she refused him in a manner when he required her, for the cause he\nshould be the more ardent on her, and ever he ceased not to pray her of\nlove. And when she saw him well enchafed, then she said, Sir Percivale,\nwit ye well, I shall not fulfil your will, but if ye swear from\nhenceforth ye shall be my true servant, and to do nothing but that I\nshall command you: will ye ensure me this as ye be a true knight? Yea,\nsaid he, fair lady, by the faith of my body. Well, said she, now shall\nye do with me whatso it please you, and now wit ye well that ye are the\nknight in the world that I have most desire to. And then Sir Percivale\ncame near to her, to proffer her love, and by adventure and grace he\nsaw his sword lie upon the ground all naked, in whose pommel was a red\ncross, and the sign of the crucifix therein, and bethought him on his\nknighthood, and his promise made toforehand unto the good man. Then he\nmade the sign of the cross in his forehead, and therewith the pavilion\nturned up so down, and then it changed unto a smoke and a black cloud,\nand then he was adread, and cried aloud,\u2014\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How Sir Percivale for penance rove himself through the thigh; and how\n she was known for the devil._\n\nFair sweet Father, Jesu Christ, ne let me not be shamed, the which was\nnear lost had not thy good grace been! And then he looked into a ship,\nand saw her enter therein, which said, Sir Percivale, ye have betrayed\nme. And so she went with the wind roaring and yelling, that it seemed\nthat all the water burnt after her. Then Sir Percivale made great\nsorrow, and drew his sword unto him, saying, Sithen my flesh will be my\nmaster, I shall punish it. And therewith he rove himself through the\nthigh, that the blood start about him, and said, O good Lord, take this\nin recompensation of that I have done against thee my Lord. So then he\nclothed him and armed him, and called himself a wretch, saying, How\nnigh was I lost, and to have lost that I should never have gotten\nagain, that was my virginity, for that may never be recovered after it\nis once lost. And then he stopped his bleeding wound with a piece of\nhis shirt. Thus as he made his moan, he saw the same ship come from the\nOrient that the good man was in the day before: and the noble knight\nwas ashamed with himself, and therewith he fell in a swoon. And when he\nawoke he went unto him weakly, and there he saluted this good man. And\nthen he asked Sir Percivale, How hast thou done sith I departed? Sir,\nsaid he, here was a gentlewoman, and led me into deadly sin: and there\nhe told him altogether. Knew ye not the maid? said the good man. Sir,\nsaid he, nay: but well I wot the fiend sent her hither to shame me. Oh,\ngood knight, said he, thou art a fool, for that gentlewoman was the\nmaster fiend of hell, the which hath power above all devils, and that\nwas the old lady that thou sawest in thy vision riding on the serpent.\nThen he told Sir Percivale how our Lord Jesu Christ beat him out of\nheaven for his sin, the which was the most brightest angel of heaven,\nand therefore he lost his heritage, and that was the champion that thou\nfoughtest withal, the which had overcome thee, had not the grace of God\nbeen: now beware, Sir Percivale, and take this for an ensample. And\nthen the good man vanished away. Then Sir Percivale took his arms, and\nentered into the ship, and so departed from thence.\n\nHere endeth the fourtenthe booke, whiche is of syr percyual. And here\n foloweth of syre launcelot whiche is the fyftenth book.\n\n\n\n\n The Fifteenth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot came into a chapel, where he found dead, in a white\n shirt, a man of religion of an hundred winter old._\n\nWhen the hermit had kept Sir Launcelot three days, the hermit gat him\nan horse, an helm, and a sword. And then he departed about the hour of\nnoon. And then he saw a little house, and when he came near he saw a\nchapel, and there beside he saw an old man that was clothed all in\nwhite full richly, and then Sir Launcelot said, God save you. God keep\nyou, said the good man, and make you a good knight. Then Sir Launcelot\nalight, and entered into the chapel, and there he saw an old man dead,\nin a white shirt of passing fine cloth. Sir, said the good man, this\nman that is dead ought not to be in such clothing as ye see him in, for\nin that he brake the oath of his order. For he hath been more than an\nhundred winters a man of a religion. And then the good man and Sir\nLauncelot went into the chapel, and the good man took a stole about his\nneck, and a book, and then he conjured on that book, and with that they\nsaw in an hideous figure and an horrible, that there was no man so\nhard-hearted nor so hard but he should have been afeard. Then said the\nfiend, Thou hast travailed me greatly, now tell me what thou wilt with\nme? I will, said the good man, that thou tell me how my fellow became\ndead, and whether he be saved or damned? Then he said with a horrible\nvoice, He is not lost, but saved. How may that be? said the good man;\nit seemed to me that he lived not well, for he brake his order for to\nwear a shirt, where he ought to wear none: and who that trespasseth\nagainst our order doth not well. Not so, said the fiend, this man that\nlieth here dead was come of a great lineage. And there was a lord that\nhight the earl de Vale, that held great war against this man\u2019s nephew,\nthe which hight Aguarus. And so this Aguarus saw the earl was bigger\nthan he, then he went for to take counsel of his uncle, the which lieth\nhere dead as ye may see. And then he asked leave, and went out of his\nhermitage for to maintain his nephew against the mighty earl. And so it\nhapped that this man that lieth here dead did so much by his wisdom and\nhardiness that the earl was taken, and three of his lords, by force of\nthis dead man.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_Of a dead man, how men would have hewen him, and it would not be, and\n how Sir Launcelot took the hair of the dead man._\n\nThen was there peace betwixt the earl and this Aguarus, and great\nsurety that the earl should never war against him. Then this dead man\nthat here lieth came to this hermitage again, and then the earl made\ntwo of his nephews for to be avenged upon this man. So they came on a\nday, and found this dead man at the sacring of his mass, and they abode\nhim till he had said mass. And then they set upon him and drew out\nswords to have slain him. But there would no sword bite on him, more\nthan upon a gad of steel, for the high Lord which he served he him\npreserved. Then made they a great fire, and did off all his cloathes\nand the hair off his back; and then this dead man hermit said unto\nthem, Ween ye to burn me? It shall not lie in your power, nor to perish\nme as much as a thread, and there were any on my body. No! said one of\nthem, it shall be assayed. And then they despoiled him, and put upon\nhim this shirt, and cast him in a fire, and there he lay all that night\ntill it was day, in that fire, and was not dead. And so in the morn I\ncame and found him dead, but I found neither thread nor skin perished;\nand so took him out of the fire with great fear, and laid him here as\nye may see. And now may ye suffer me to go my way, for I have said you\nthe truth. And then he departed with a great tempest. Then was the good\nman and Sir Launcelot more gladder than they were tofore. And then Sir\nLauncelot dwelled with that good man that night. Sir, said the good\nman, be ye not Sir Launcelot du Lake? Yea, sir, said he. What seek ye\nin this country? Sir, said Sir Launcelot, I go to seek the adventures\nof the Sancgreal. Well, said he, seek it ye may well, but though it\nwere here ye shall have no power to see it, no more than a blind man\nshould see a bright sword, and that is long on your sin, and else ye\nwere more abler than any man living. And then Sir Launcelot began to\nweep. Then said the good man, Were ye confessed sith ye entered into\nthe quest of the Sancgreal? Yea, sir, said Sir Launcelot. Then upon the\nmorn, when the good man had sung his mass, then they buried the dead\nman. Then Sir Launcelot said, Father, what shall I do? Now, said the\ngood man, I require you take this hair that was this holy man\u2019s, and\nput it next thy skin, and it shall prevail thee greatly. Sir, and I\nwill do it, said Sir Launcelot. Also I charge you that ye eat no flesh\nas long as ye be in the quest of the Sancgreal, nor ye shall drink no\nwine, and that ye hear mass daily and ye may do it. So he took the hair\nand put it upon him, and so departed at evensong time. And so rode he\ninto a forest, and there he met with a gentlewoman riding upon a white\npalfrey, and then she asked him, Sir knight, whither ride ye? Certes\ndamsel, said Launcelot, I wot not whither I ride, but as fortune\nleadeth me. Ah, Sir Launcelot, said she, I wot what adventure ye seek,\nfor ye were aforetime nearer than ye be now, and yet shall ye see it\nmore openly than ever ye did, and that shall ye understand in short\ntime. Then Sir Launcelot asked her where he might be harboured that\nnight? Ye shall not find this day nor night, but to-morn ye shall find\nharbour good, and ease of that ye be in doubt of. And then he commended\nher unto God. Then he rode till that he came to a cross, and took that\nfor his host as for that night.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_Of a vision that Sir Launcelot had, and how he told it to an hermit,\n and desired counsel of him._\n\nAnd so he put his horse to pasture, and did off his helm and his\nshield, and made his prayers unto the cross that he never fall in\ndeadly sin again. And so he laid him down to sleep. And anon as he was\nasleep it befell him there a vision, that there came a man afore him\nall by compass of stars, and that man had a crown of gold on his head,\nand that man led in his fellowship seven kings and two knights. And all\nthese worshipped the cross, kneeling upon their knees, holding up their\nhands towards the heaven; and all they said, Fair sweet Father of\nheaven, come and visit us, and yield unto us every each as we have\ndeserved. Then looked Launcelot up to the heaven, and him seemed the\nclouds did open, and an old man came down with a company of angels, and\nalight among them, and gave unto every each his blessing, and called\nthem his servants, and good and true knights. And when this old man had\nsaid thus, he came to one of those knights and said, I have lost all\nthat I have set in thee, for thou hast ruled thee against me as a\nwarrior, and used wrong wars with vain glory, more for the pleasure of\nthe world than to please me, therefore thou shalt be confounded without\nthou yield me my treasure. All this vision saw Sir Launcelot at the\ncross. And on the morn he took his horse and rode till mid day, and\nthere, by adventure, he met with the same knight that took his horse,\nhis helm, and his sword, when he slept when the Sancgreal appeared\nafore the cross. When Sir Launcelot saw him he saluted him not fair,\nbut cried on high, Knight, keep thee, for thou hast done to me great\nunkindness. And then they put afore them their spears, and Sir\nLauncelot came so fiercely upon him that he smote him and his horse\ndown to the earth, that he had nigh broken his neck. Then Sir Launcelot\ntook the knight\u2019s horse, that was his own aforehand, and descended from\nthe horse he sat upon, and tied the knight\u2019s own horse to a tree, that\nhe might find that horse when that he was arisen.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot rode till night, and by adventure he met an hermit,\nand each of them saluted other, and there he rested with that good man\nall night, and gave his horse such as he might get. Then said the good\nman unto Launcelot, Of whence be ye? Sir, said he, I am of Arthur\u2019s\ncourt, and my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake, that am in the quest of\nthe Sancgreal. And therefore I pray you to counsel me of a vision, the\nwhich I had at the cross. And so he told him all.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How the hermit expounded to Sir Launcelot his vision, and told him\n that Sir Galahad was his son._\n\nLo, Sir Launcelot, said the good man, there thou mightest understand\nthe high lineage that thou art come of, and thy vision betokeneth:\nAfter the passion of Jesu Christ forty years, Joseph of Aramathie\npreached the victory of king Evelake, that he had in the battles the\nbetter of his enemies. And of the seven kings and the two knights: the\nfirst of them is called Nappus, an holy man; and the second hight\nNacien, in remembrance of his grandsire, and in him dwelled our Lord\nJesu Christ; and the third was called Hellias le Grose; and the fourth\nhight Lisais; and the fifth hight Jonas, he departed out of his country\nand went into Wales, and took the daughter of Manuel, whereby he had\nthe land of Gaul, and he came to dwell in this country, and of him came\nking Launcelot thy grandsire, which there wedded the king\u2019s daughter of\nIreland, and he was as worthy a man as thou art, and of him came king\nBan thy father, the which was the last of the seven kings. And by thee,\nSir Launcelot, it signifieth that the angels said thou were none of the\nseven fellowships. And the last was the ninth knight, he was signified\nto a lion, for he should pass all manner of earthly knights, that is\nSir Galahad, the which thou gat of king Pelles\u2019 daughter, and thou\nought to thank God more than any other man living; for of a sinner\nearthly thou hast no peer as in knighthood, nor never shall be. But\nlittle thank hast thou given to God for all the great virtues that God\nhath lent thee.\n\nSir, said Launcelot, ye say that that good knight is my son. That\noughtest thou to know, and no man better, said the good man, for by the\ndaughter of king Pelles thou hadst Galahad, and that was he that at the\nfeast of Pentecost sat in the siege perilous, and therefore make thou\nit known openly that he is thy son, for that will be your worship and\nhonour, and to all thy kindred. And I counsel you in no place press not\nupon him to have ado with him. Well, said Launcelot, me seemeth that\ngood knight should pray for me unto the high Father that I fall not to\nsin again. Trust thou well, said the good man, thou farest much the\nbetter for his prayer; but the son shall not bear the wickedness of the\nfather, nor the father shall not bear the wickedness of the son, but\nevery each shall bear his own burthen; and therefore beseek thou only\nGod, and he will help thee in all thy needs. And then Sir Launcelot and\nhe went to supper, and so laid him to rest, and the hair pricked so Sir\nLauncelot\u2019s skin, which grieved him full sore, but he took it meekly,\nand suffered the pain. And so on the morn he heard his mass, and took\nhis arms, and so took his leave.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot justed with many knights, and how he was taken._\n\nAnd then he mounted upon his horse and rode into a forest, and held no\nhighway. And as he looked afore him he saw a fair plain, and beside\nthat a fair castle, and afore the castle were many pavilions of silk\nand of divers hue. And him seemed that he saw there five hundred\nknights riding on horseback, and there were two parties; they that were\nof the castle were all on black horses, and their trappings black. And\nthey that were without were all on white horses and trappings: and\nevery each hurtled to other, that it marvelled Sir Launcelot. And at\nthe last him thought they of the castle were put to the worse. Then\nthought Sir Launcelot for to help there the weaker party, in increasing\nof his chivalry. And so Sir Launcelot thrust in among the party of the\ncastle, and smote down a knight, horse and man, to the earth. And then\nhe rashed here and there, and did marvellous deeds of arms. And then he\ndrew out his sword and strake many knights to the earth, so that all\nthose that saw him marvelled that ever one knight might do so great\ndeeds of arms. But always the white knights held them nigh about Sir\nLauncelot, for to tire him and wind him.\n\nBut at the last, as a man may not ever endure, Sir Launcelot waxed so\nfaint of fighting and travailing, and was so weary of his great deeds,\nthat he might not lift up his arms for to give one stroke, so that he\nwend never to have borne arms: and then they all took him and led him\naway into a forest, and there made him to alight and to rest him. And\nthen all the fellowship of the castle were overcome for the default of\nhim, and then they said all unto Sir Launcelot, Blessed be God that ye\nbe now of our fellowship, for we shall hold you in our prison. And so\nthey left him with few words. And then Sir Launcelot made great\nsorrow,\u2014For never or now was I never at tournament nor justs but I had\nthe best, and now I am shamed. And then he said, Now I am sure that I\nam more sinfuller than ever I was. Thus he rode sorrowing, and half a\nday was he out of despair, till that he came into a deep valley, and\nwhen Sir Launcelot saw he might not ride up into the mountain, he there\nalight under an apple-tree, and there he left his helm and his shield,\nand put his horse unto pasture. And then he laid him down to sleep. And\nthen him thought there came an old man afore him, the which said, Ah,\nLauncelot, of evil faith and poor belief, wherefore is thy will turned\nso lightly towards thy deadly sin? And when he had said thus he\nvanished away, and Launcelot wist not where he was become. Then he took\nhis horse, and armed him. And as he rode by the way he saw a chapel,\nwhere was a recluse, which had a window that she might see up to the\naltar. And all aloud she called Launcelot, for that he seemed a knight\nerrant. And then he came, and she asked him what he was, and of what\nplace, and where about he went to seek.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot told his vision unto a woman, and how she expounded\n it to him._\n\nAnd then he told her altogether word by word, and the truth how it\nbefel him at the tournament. And after told her his vision, that he had\nhad that night in his sleep, and prayed her to tell him what it might\nmean, for he was not well content with it. Ah, Launcelot, said she, as\nlong as ye were knight of earthly knighthood, ye were the most\nmarvellous man of the world, and most adventurous. Now, said the lady,\nsince ye be set among the knights of heavenly adventures, if adventure\nfell the contrary at that tournament, have thou no marvel; for that\ntournament yesterday was but a tokening of our Lord. And not for then\nthere was none enchantment, for they at the tournament were earthly\nknights. The tournament was a token for to see who should have most\nknights, either Eliazar the son of king Pelles, or Argustus the son of\nking Harlon; but Eliazar was all clothed in white, and Argustus was\ncovered in black, the which were come. All what this betokeneth I shall\ntell you. The day of Pentecost, when king Arthur held his court, it\nbefell that earthly kings and knights took a tournament together, that\nis to say, the quest of the Sancgreal. The earthly knights were they,\nthe which were clothed all in black, and the covering betokeneth the\nsins whereof they be not confessed. And they with the covering of white\nbetokeneth virginity, and they that chosen chastity. And thus was the\nquest begun in them. Then thou beheld the sinners and the good men, and\nwhen thou sawest the sinners overcome, thou inclinedst to that party,\nfor boasting and pride of the world, and all that must be left in that\nquest. For in this quest thou shalt have many fellows and thy betters,\nfor thou art so feeble of evil trust and good belief, this made it when\nthou were there where they took thee, and led thee into the forest. And\nanon there appeared the Sancgreal unto the white knights, but thou was\nso feeble of good belief and faith, that thou might not abide it, for\nall the teaching of the good man, but anon thou turnedst unto the\nsinners; and that caused thy misadventure, that thou shouldest know\ngood from evil and vain glory of the world, the which is not worth a\npear. And for great pride thou madest great sorrow that thou hadst not\novercome all the white knights with the covering of white, by whom was\nbetokened virginity and chastity, and therefore God was wroth with you,\nfor God loveth no such deeds in this quest; and this vision signifieth\nthat thou were of evil faith and of poor belief, the which will make\nthee to fall into the deep pit of hell, if thou keep thee not. Now have\nI warned thee of thy vain glory and of thy pride, that thou hast many\ntimes erred against thy Maker. Beware of everlasting pain, for of all\nearthly knights I have most pity of thee, for I know well thou hast not\nthy peer of any earthly sinful man. And so she commanded Sir Launcelot\nto dinner; and after dinner he took his horse and commended her to God,\nand so rode into a deep valley, and there he saw a river and an high\nmountain. And through the water he must needs pass, the which was\nhideous; and then in the name of God he took it with good heart. And\nwhen he came over he saw an armed knight, horse and man black as any\nbear: without any word he smote Sir Launcelot\u2019s horse to the earth, and\nso he passed on: he wist not where he was become. And then he took his\nhelm and his shield, and thanked God of his adventure.\n\nHere leueth of the story of syr launcelot. And speke we of sir Gawayne,\n the whiche is the xvi. book.\n\n\n\n\n The Sixteenth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How Sir Gawaine was nigh weary of the quest of the Sangreal, and of\n his marvellous dream._\n\nWhen Sir Gawaine was departed from his fellowship, he rode long without\nany adventure. For he found not the tenth part of adventure as he was\nwont to do. For Sir Gawaine rode from Whitsunday unto Michaelmas, and\nfound none adventure that pleased him. So on a day it befell Gawaine\nmet with Sir Ector de Maris, and either made great joy of other, that\nit were marvel to tell. And so they told every each other, and\ncomplained them greatly that they could find none adventure.\n\nTruly, said Sir Gawaine unto Sir Ector, I am nigh weary of this quest,\nand loth I am to follow further in strange countries. One thing\nmarvelleth me, said Sir Ector, I have met with twenty knights, fellows\nof mine, and all they complain as I do. I marvel, said Sir Gawaine,\nwhere that Sir Launcelot your brother is. Truly, said Sir Ector, I\ncannot hear of him, nor of Sir Galahad, Percivale, nor Sir Bors. Let\nthem be, said Sir Gawaine, for they four have no peers. And if one\nthing were not in Sir Launcelot, he had no fellow of none earthly man;\nbut he is as we be, but if he took more pain upon him. But and these\nfour be met together, they will be loth that any man meet with them;\nfor, and they fail of the Sancgreal, it is in waste of all the remnant\nto recover it. Thus as Ector and Gawaine rode more than eight days. And\non a Saturday they found an old chapel, the which was wasted that there\nseemed no man thither repaired, and there they alight, and set their\nspears at the door, and in they entered into the chapel, and there made\ntheir orisons a great while, and then set them down in the sieges of\nthe chapel. And as they spake of one thing and other, for heaviness\nthey fell on sleep, and there befell them both marvellous adventures.\nSir Gawaine him seemed he came into a meadow full of herbs and flowers.\nAnd there he saw a rack of bulls an hundred and fifty, that were proud\nand black, save three of them were all white, and one had a black spot,\nand the other two were so fair and so white that they might be no\nwhiter. And these three bulls which were so fair were tied with two\nstrong cords. And the remnant of the bulls said among them, Go we hence\nto seek better pasture. And so some went, and some came again; but they\nwere so lean that they might not stand upright; and of the bulls that\nwere so white, that one came again, and no more. But when this white\nbull was come again among these other, there arose up a great cry for\nlack of wind that failed them; and so they departed, one here and\nanother there. This vision befell Sir Gawaine that night.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_Of the vision of Sir Ector, and how he justed with Sir Uwaine les\n Avoutres, his sworn brother._\n\nBut to Sir Ector de Maris befell another vision, the contrary. For it\nseemed him that his brother Sir Launcelot and he alight out of a chair\nand lept upon two horses, and the one said to the other, Go we seek\nthat we shall not find. And him thought that a man beat Sir Launcelot\nand despoiled him, and clothed him in another array, the which was all\nfull of knots, and set him upon an ass. And so he rode till he came to\nthe fairest well that ever he saw, and Sir Launcelot alight, and would\nhave drunk of that well. And when he stooped to drink of the water, the\nwater sank from him. And when Sir Launcelot saw that, he turned and\nwent thither as the head came from. And in the meanwhile he trowed that\nhimself and Sir Ector rode till that they came to a rich man\u2019s house,\nwhere there was a wedding. And there he saw a king, the which said, Sir\nknight, here is no place for you: and then he turned again unto the\nchair that he came from. Thus within a while both Gawaine and Ector\nawaked, and either told other of their vision, the which marvelled them\ngreatly. Truly, said Ector, I shall never be merry till I hear tidings\nof my brother Launcelot.\n\nNow as they sat thus talking, they saw an hand shewing unto the elbow,\nand was covered with red samite, and upon that hung a bridle not rich,\nand held within the fist a great candle which burnt right clear, and so\npassed afore them, and entered into the chapel, and then vanished away,\nand they wist not where. And anon came down a voice which said, Knights\nfull of evil faith and poor belief, these two things have failed you,\nand therefore ye may not come to the adventures of the Sancgreal. Then\nfirst spake Gawaine and said, Ector, have ye heard these words? Yea\ntruly, said Sir Ector, I heard all. Now go we, said Sir Ector, unto\nsome hermit that will tell us of our vision, for it seemeth me we\nlabour all in vain. And so they departed and rode into a valley, and\nthere met with a squire which rode on an hackney, and they saluted him\nfair. Sir, said Gawaine, can thou teach us to any hermit? Here is one\nin a little mountain, said the squire, but it is so rough that there\nmay no horse go thither; and therefore ye must go on foot: there shall\nye find a poor house, and there is Nacien the hermit, which is the\nholiest man in this country. And so they departed either from other.\nAnd then in a valley they met with a knight all armed, which proffered\nthem to just as far as he saw them. Truly, said Sir Gawaine, sith I\ndeparted from Camelot there was none proffered me to just but once. And\nnow, sir, said Ector, let me just with him. Nay, said Gawaine, ye shall\nnot, but if I be beaten, it shall not forthink me then if ye go after\nme. And then either enbraced other to just, and came together as fast\nas their horses might run, and brast their shields and the mails, and\nthe one more than the other: and Gawaine was wounded in the left side,\nbut the other knight was smitten through the breast, and the spear came\nout on the other side, and so they fell both out of their saddles, and\nin the falling they brake both their spears. Anon Gawaine arose, and\nset his hand to his sword, and cast his shield afore him. But all for\nnought was it, for the knight had no power to arise against him. Then\nsaid Gawaine, Ye must yield you as an overcome man, or else I may slay\nyou. Ah, sir knight, said he, I am but dead; for God\u2019s sake, and of\nyour gentleness, lead me here unto an abbey, that I may receive my\nCreator. Sir, said Gawaine, I know no house of religion hereby. Sir,\nsaid the knight, set me on an horse tofore you, and I shall teach you.\nGawaine set him up in the saddle, and he lept up behind him for to\nsustain him, and so came to an abbey, where they were well received;\nand anon he was unarmed, and received his Creator. Then he prayed\nGawaine to draw the truncheon of the spear out of his body. Then\nGawaine asked him what he was, that knew him not? I am, said he, of\nking Arthur\u2019s court, and was a fellow of the Round Table, and we were\nbrethren sworn together, and now, Sir Gawaine, thou hast slain me, and\nmy name is Uwaine les Avoutres, that sometime was son unto king Uriens,\nand was in the quest of the Sancgreal; and now forgive it thee God, for\nit shall ever be said that the one sworn brother hath slain the other.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How Sir Gawaine and Sir Ector came to an hermitage to be confessed,\n and how they told to the hermit their visions._\n\nAlas, said Sir Gawaine, that ever this misadventure is befallen me. No\nforce, said Uwaine, sith I shall die this death, of a much more\nworshipfuller man\u2019s hands might I not die; but when ye come to the\ncourt, recommand me unto my lord king Arthur, and all those that be\nleft onlive, and for old brotherhood think on me. Then began Gawaine to\nweep, and Ector also. And then Uwaine himself, and Sir Gawaine, drew\nout the truncheon of the spear; and anon departed the soul from the\nbody. Then Sir Gawaine and Sir Ector buried him, as men ought to bury a\nking\u2019s son, and made written upon his name, and by whom he was slain.\n\nThen departed Gawaine and Ector, as heavy as they might for their\nmisadventure; and so rode till that they came unto the rough mountain,\nand there they tied their horses, and went on foot to the hermitage.\nAnd when they were come up, they saw a poor house, and beside the\nchapel a little courtlage, where Nacien the hermit gathered worts, as\nhe which had tasted none other meat of a great while. And when he saw\nthe errant knights, he came toward them and saluted them, and they him\nagain. Fair lords, said he, what adventure brought you hither? Sir,\nsaid Gawaine, to speak with you, for to be confessed. Sir, said the\nhermit, I am ready. Then they told him so much that he wist well what\nthey were, and then he thought to counsel them if he might. Then began\nGawaine first, and told him of his vision that he had had in the\nchapel: and Ector told him all as it is afore rehearsed. Sir, said the\nhermit unto Sir Gawaine, the fair meadow and the rack therein ought to\nbe understood the Round Table, and by the meadow ought to be understood\nhumility and patience, those be the things which be always green and\nquick; for men may no time overcome humility and patience, therefore\nwas the Round Table founded, and the chivalry hath been at all times,\nso by the fraternity which was there that she might not be overcome.\nFor men said she was founded in patience and in humility. At the rack\nate an hundred and fifty bulls, but they ate not in the meadow, for\ntheir hearts should be set in humility and patience, and the bulls were\nproud and black, save only three. By the bulls is to understand the\nfellowship of the Round Table, which for their sin and their wickedness\nbe black. Blackness is to say without good or virtuous works. And the\nthree bulls which were white, save only one which was spotted;\u2014the two\nwhite betoken Sir Galahad and Sir Percivale, for they be maidens clean\nand without spot; and the third that had a spot signifieth Sir Bors de\nGanis, which trespassed but once in his virginity, but since he kept\nhimself so well in chastity that all is forgiven him, and his misdeeds.\nAnd why those three were tied by the necks, they be three knights in\nvirginity and chastity, and there is no pride smitten in them. And the\nblack bulls which said, Go we hence, they were those which at\nPentecost, at the high feast, took upon them to go in the quest of the\nSancgreal without confession: they might not enter in the meadow of\nhumility and patience. And therefore they returned into waste\ncountries, that signifieth death, for there shall die many of them:\nevery each of them shall slay other for sin, and they that shall escape\nshall be so lean that it shall be marvel to see them. And of the three\nbulls without spot, the one shall come again, and the other two never.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How the hermit expounded their vision._\n\nThen spake Nacien unto Ector. Sooth it is that Launcelot and ye came\ndown of one chair: the chair betokeneth mastership and lordship, which\nye came down from. But ye two knights, said the hermit, ye go to seek\nthat ye shall never find, that is the Sancgreal. For it is the secret\nthing of our Lord Jesu Christ. What is to mean, that Sir Launcelot fell\ndown off his horse:\u2014he hath left pride, and taken him to humility, for\nhe hath cried mercy loud for his sin, and sore repented him, and our\nLord hath clothed him in His clothing, which is full of knots, that is\nthe hair which he weareth daily. And the ass that he rode upon is a\nbeast of humility. For God would not ride upon no steed, nor upon no\npalfrey. So in ensample that an ass betokeneth meekness, that thou\nsawest Sir Launcelot ride on in thy sleep: and the well where as the\nwater sank from him when he should have taken thereof, and when he saw\nhe might not have it, he returned thither from whence he came, for the\nwell betokeneth the high grace of God, the more men desire it to take\nit, the more shall be their desire. So when he came nigh the Sancgreal,\nhe meeked him that he held him not a man worthy to be so nigh the holy\nvessel, for he had been so defouled in deadly sin by the space of many\nyears, yet when he kneeled to drink of the well, there he saw great\nprovidence of the Sancgreal. And for he had served so long the devil,\nhe shall have vengeance four and twenty days long, for that he hath\nbeen the devil\u2019s servant four and twenty years. And then soon after he\nshall return unto Camelot out of this country, and he shall say a part\nof such things as he hath found.\n\nNow will I tell you what betokeneth the hand with the candle and the\nbridle; that is to understand the Holy Ghost, where charity is ever,\nand the bridle signifieth abstinence. For when she is bridled in\nChristian man\u2019s heart, she holdeth him so short that he falleth not in\ndeadly sin. And the candle which sheweth clearness and sight,\nsignifieth the right way of Jesu Christ. And when he went, and said,\nKnights of poor faith and of wicked belief,\u2014these three things failed,\ncharity, abstinence, and truth, therefore ye may not attain that high\nadventure of the Sancgreal.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_Of the good counsel that the hermit gave to him._\n\nCertes, said Gawaine, soothly have ye said, that I see it openly. Now I\npray you, good man and holy father, tell me why we met not with so many\nadventures as we were wont to do, and commonly have the better. I shall\ntell you gladly, said the good man: The adventure of the Sancgreal,\nwhich ye and many other have undertaken the quest of it, and find it\nnot, the cause is, for it appeareth not to sinners. Wherefore marvel\nnot though ye fail thereof, and many other. For ye be an untrue knight,\nand a great murderer, and to good men signifieth other things than\nmurder. For I dare say, as sinful as Sir Launcelot hath been, sith that\nhe went into the quest of the Sancgreal he slew never man, nor nought\nshall till that he come unto Camelot again. For he hath taken upon him\nfor to forsake sin. And were not that he is not stable, but by his\nthought he is likely to turn again, he should be next to achieve it,\nsave Galahad his son. But God knoweth his thought, and his\nunstableness, and yet shall he die right an holy man; and no doubt he\nhath no fellow of no earthly sinful man. Sir, said Gawaine, it seemeth\nme by your words, that for our sins it will not avail us to travail in\nthis quest. Truly, said the good man, there be an hundred such as ye\nbe, that never shall prevail but to have shame. And when they had heard\nthese voices, they commanded him unto God.\n\nThen the good man called Gawaine, and said, It is long time passed sith\nthat ye were made knight, and never since thou servedst thy Maker, and\nnow thou art so old a tree, that in thee there is neither life nor\nfruit; wherefore bethink thee that thou yield unto our Lord the bare\nrind, sith the fiend hath the leaves and the fruit. Sir, said Gawaine,\nand I had leisure I would speak with you, but my fellow here, Sir\nEctor, is gone, and abideth me yonder beneath the hill. Well, said the\ngood man, thou were better to be counselled. Then departed Gawaine, and\ncame to Ector, and so took their horses, and rode till they came to a\nfoster\u2019s house which harboured them right well. And on the morn they\ndeparted from their host, and rode long or they could find any\nadventure.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How Sir Bors met with an hermit, and how he was confessed to him, and\n of his penance enjoined to him._\n\nWhen Bors was departed from Camelot, he met with a religious man riding\non an ass, and Sir Bors saluted him. Anon the good man knew him that he\nwas one of the knights errant that was in the quest of the Sancgreal.\nWhat are ye? said the good man. Sir, said he, I am a knight that fain\nwould be counselled in the quest of the Sancgreal: for he shall have\nmuch earthly worship that may bring it to an end. Certes, said the good\nman, that is sooth, for he shall be the best knight of the world, and\nthe fairest of all the fellowship. But wit you well, there shall none\nattain it but by cleanness, that is, pure confession. So rode they\ntogether till that they came to an hermitage. And there he prayed Bors\nto dwell all that night with him: and so he alight, and put away his\narmour, and prayed him that he might be confessed; and so they went\ninto the chapel, and there he was clean confessed: and they eat bread,\nand drank water, together. Now, said the good man, I pray thee that\nthou eat none other, till that thou sit at the table where the\nSancgreal shall be. Sir, said he, I agree me thereto; but how wit ye\nthat I shall sit there? Yes, said the good man, that know I, but there\nshall be but few of your fellows with you. All is welcome, said Sir\nBors, that God sendeth me. Also, said the good man, instead of a shirt,\nand in sign of chastisement, ye shall wear a garment; thereof I pray\nyou do off all your clothes and your shirt, and so he did. And then he\ntook him a scarlet coat, so that should be instead of his shirt, till\nhe had fulfilled the quest of the Sancgreal. And the good man found him\nin so marvellous a life, and so stable, that he marvelled, and felt\nthat he was never corrupt in fleshly lusts, but in one time that he\nbegat Elian le Blank. Then he armed him, and took his leave, and so\ndeparted. And so a little from thence he looked up into a tree, and\nthere he saw a passing great bird upon an old tree, and it was passing\ndry, without leaves, and the bird sat above, and had birds, the which\nwere dead for hunger. So smote he himself with his beak, the which was\ngreat and sharp. And so the great bird bled till that he died among his\nbirds. And the young birds took the life by the blood of the great\nbird. When Bors saw this, he wist well it was great tokening. For when\nhe saw the great bird arose not, then he took his horse and went his\nway. So by evensong, by adventure he came to a strong tower, and an\nhigh, and there was he lodged gladly.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How Sir Bors was lodged with a lady, and how he took on him for to\n fight against a champion for her land._\n\nAnd when he was unarmed, they led him into an high tower, where was a\nlady, young, lusty, and fair. And she received him with great joy, and\nmade him to sit down by her, and so was he set to sup with flesh and\nmany dainties. And when Sir Bors saw that, he bethought him on his\npenance, and bad a squire to bring him water. And so he brought him,\nand he made sops therein, and ate them. Ah, said the lady, I trow ye\nlike not my meat. Yes, truly, said Sir Bors, God thank you madam, but I\nmay eat none other meat this day. Then she spake no more as at that\ntime, for she was loth to displease him.\n\nThen after supper they spake of one thing and other. With that there\ncame a squire, and said, Madam, ye must purvey you to-morn for a\nchampion, for else your sister will have this castle, and also your\nlands, except ye can find a knight that will fight to-morn in your\nquarrel against Pridam le Noire. Then she made sorrow, and said, Ah\nLord God, wherefore granted ye to hold my land, whereof I should now be\ndisherited without reason and right. And when Sir Bors had heard her\nsay thus, he said, I shall comfort you. Sir, said she, I shall tell\nyou, there was here a king that hight Aniause, which held all this land\nin his keeping. So it mishapped he loved a gentlewoman, a great deal\nelder than I. So took he her all this land to her keeping, and all his\nmen to govern, and she brought up many evil customs, whereby she put to\ndeath a great part of his kinsmen. And when he saw that, he let chase\nher out of this land, and betook it me, and all this land in my charge:\nbut anon, as that worthy king was dead, this other lady began to war\nupon me, and hath destroyed many of my men, and turned them against me,\nthat I have well nigh no man left me, and I have nought else but this\nhigh tower that she left me. And yet she hath promised me to have this\ntower, without I can find a knight to fight with her champion. Now tell\nme, said Sir Bors, what is that Pridam le Noire? Sir, said she, he is\nthe most doubted man of this land.\u2014Now may ye send her word that ye\nhave found a knight that shall fight with that Pridam le Noire in God\u2019s\nquarrel and yours. Then that lady was not a little glad, and sent word\nthat she was provided. And that night Sir Bors had good cheer, but in\nno bed he would come, but laid him on the floor, nor never would do\notherwise till that he had met with the quest of Sancgreal.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_Of a vision which Sir Bors had that night, and how he fought and\n overcame his adversary._\n\nAnd anon as he was asleep, him befell a vision, that there came to him\ntwo birds, the one as white as a swan, and the other was marvellous\nblack, but it was not so great as the other, but in the likeness of a\nraven. Then the white bird came to him, and said, And thou wouldst give\nme meat and serve me, I should give thee all the riches of the world,\nand I shall make thee as fair and as white as I am. So the white bird\ndeparted, and there came the black bird to him, and said, And thou wilt\nserve me to-morrow, and have me in no despite, though I be black, for\nwit thou well that more availeth my blackness, than the other\u2019s\nwhiteness. And then he departed. And he had another vision: him thought\nthat he came to a great place, which seemed a chapel, and there he\nfound a chair set on the left side, which was worm-eaten and feeble.\nAnd on the right hand were two flowers like a lily, and the one would\nhave taken the other\u2019s whiteness, but a good man parted them, that the\none touched not the other, and then out of every flower came out many\nflowers, and fruit great plenty. Then him thought the good man said,\nShould not he do great folly, that would let these two flowers perish\nfor to succour the rotten tree, that it fell not to the earth? Sir,\nsaid he, it seemeth me that this wood might not avail. Now keep thee,\nsaid the good man, that thou never see such adventure befall thee. Then\nhe awaked and made a sign of the cross in the midst of the forehead,\nand so rose and clothed him, and there came the lady of the place, and\nshe saluted him, and he her again, and so went to a chapel, and heard\ntheir service. And there came a company of knights that the lady had\nsent for, to lead Sir Bors unto battle. Then asked he his arms. And\nwhen he was armed, she prayed him to take a little morsel to dine. Nay,\nmadam, said he, that shall I not do, till I have done my battle, by the\ngrace of God. And so he lept upon his horse, and departed all the\nknights and men with him. And as soon as these two ladies met together,\nshe which Bors should fight for, complained her, and said, Madam, ye\nhave done me wrong to bereave me of my lands that king Aniause gave me,\nand full loth I am there should be any battle. Ye shall not choose,\nsaid the other lady, or else your knight withdraw him. Then there was\nthe cry made, which party had the better of those two knights, that\nthis lady should enjoy all the land. Now departed the one knight here,\nand the other there. Then they came together with such force that they\npierced their shields and their hauberks, and the spears flew in\npieces, and they wounded either other sore. Then hurtled they together\nso that they fell both to the earth, and their horses betwixt their\nlegs. And anon they arose, and set hands to their swords, and smote\neach one other upon the heads, that they made great wounds and deep,\nthat the blood went out of their bodies. For there found Sir Bors\ngreater defence in that knight more than he wend. For that Pridam was a\npassing good knight, and he wounded Sir Bors full evil, and he him\nagain. But ever this Sir Pridam held the stour in like hard. That\nperceived Sir Bors, and suffered him till he was nigh attaint, and then\nhe ran upon him more and more, and the other went back for dread of\ndeath. So in his withdrawing he fell upright, and Sir Bors drew his\nhelm so strongly that he rent it from his head, and gave him great\nstrokes with the flat of his sword upon the visage, and bade him yield\nhim, or he should slay him. Then he cried him mercy, and said, Fair\nknight, for God\u2019s love slay me not, and I shall ensure thee never to\nwar against thy lady, but be alway toward her. Then Bors let him be.\nThen the old lady fled with all her knights.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How the lady was restored to her lands by the battle of Sir Bors, and\n of his departing, and how he met Sir Lionel taken and beaten with\n thorns, and also of a maid which should have been dishonoured._\n\nSo then came Bors to all those that held lands of his lady, and said he\nshould destroy them but if they did such service unto her as belonged\nto their lands. So they did their homage, and they that would not were\nchased out of their lands. Then befell that young lady to come to her\nestate again, by the mighty prowess of Sir Bors de Ganis. So when all\nthe country was well set in peace, then Sir Bors took his leave and\ndeparted, and she thanked him greatly, and would have given him great\nriches, but he refused it. Then he rode all that day till night, and\ncame to an harbour, to a lady which knew him well enough, and made of\nhim great joy. Upon the morn, as soon as the day appeared, Bors\ndeparted from thence, and so rode into a forest unto the hour of\nmid-day, and there befell him a marvellous adventure. So he met at the\ndeparting of the two ways two knights, that led Lionel his brother all\nnaked, bounden upon a strong hackney, and his hands bounden tofore his\nbreast: and every each of them held in his hand thorns, wherewith they\nwent beating him so sore that the blood trailed down more than in an\nhundred places of his body, so that he was all blood tofore and behind,\nbut he said never a word, as he which was great of heart; he suffered\nall that ever they did to him as though he had felt none anguish. Anon\nSir Bors dressed him to rescue him that was his brother: and so he\nlooked upon the other side of him, and saw a knight which brought a\nfair gentlewoman, and would have set her in the thickest place of the\nforest, for to have been the more surer out of the way from them that\nsought him. And she, which was nothing assured, cried with an high\nvoice, Saint Mary, succour your maid!\n\nAnd anon she espied where Sir Bors came riding. And when she came nigh\nhim, she deemed him a knight of the Round Table, whereof she hoped to\nhave some comfort; and then she conjured him, by the faith that he owed\nunto Him in whose service thou art entered in, and for the faith ye owe\nunto the high order of knighthood, and for the noble king Arthur\u2019s\nsake, that I suppose that made thee knight, that thou help me, and\nsuffer me not to be shamed of this knight!\n\nWhen Bors heard her say thus, he had so much sorrow there he nist not\nwhat to do. For if I let my brother be in adventure he must be slain,\nand that would I not for all the earth. And if I help not the maid, she\nis shamed for ever, and also she shall lose her honour, the which she\nshall never get again. Then lift he up his eyes, and said weeping, Fair\nsweet Lord Jesu Christ, whose liege man I am, keep Lionel my brother,\nthat these knights slay him not; and for pity of you, and for Mary\u2019s\nsake, I shall succour this maid.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How Sir Bors left to rescue his brother, and rescued the damsel; and\n how it was told him that Lionel was dead._\n\nThen dressed he him unto the knight the which had the gentlewoman, and\nthen he cried, Sir knight, let your hand off that maiden, or ye be but\ndead. And then he set down the maiden and was armed at all pieces, save\nhe lacked his spear. Then he dressed his shield, and drew out his\nsword, and Bors smote him so hard that it went through his shield and\nhaberjon on the left shoulder; and through great strength he beat him\ndown to the earth; and at the pulling out of Bors\u2019 spear there he\nswooned.\n\nThen came Bors to the maid, and said, How seemeth it you? Of this\nknight ye be delivered at this time. Now Sir, said she, I pray you lead\nme there as this knight had me.\u2014So shall I do gladly: and took the\nhorse of the wounded knight, and set the gentlewoman upon him, and so\nbrought her as she desired. Sir knight, said she, ye have better sped\nthan ye weened, for if ye had not saved me five hundred men should have\ndied for it.\u2014What knight was he that had you in the forest?\u2014By my\nfaith, said she, he is my cousin. So wot I never with what craft the\nfiend enchafed him, for yesterday he took me from my father privily;\nfor I nor none of my father\u2019s men mistrusted him not. And if he had\nshamed me, he should have died for the sin, and his body shamed and\ndishonoured for ever. Thus as she stood talking with him, there came\ntwelve knights seeking after her, and anon she told them all how Bors\nhad delivered her; then they made great joy, and besought him to come\nto her father, a great lord, and he should be right welcome. Truly,\nsaid Bors, that may not be at this time, for I have a great adventure\nto do in this country. So he commended them unto God, and departed.\nThen Sir Bors rode after Lionel his brother by the trace of their\nhorses. Thus he rode seeking a great while. Then he overtook a man\nclothed in a religious clothing, and rode on a strong black horse,\nblacker than a bery, and said, Sir knight, what seek you? Sir, said he,\nI seek my brother, that I saw within a while beaten with two knights.\nAh Bors, discomfort you not, nor fall into no vain hope, for I shall\ntell you tidings such as they be; for truly he is dead. Then shewed he\nhim a new slain body, lying in a bush, and it seemed him well that it\nwas the body of Lionel. And then he made such a sorrow that he fell to\nthe earth all in a swoon, and lay a great while there. And when he came\nto himself he said, Fair brother, sith the company of you and me is\nparted, shall I never have joy in my heart; and now He which I have\ntaken unto my Master, He be my help. And when he had said thus, he took\nhis body lightly in his arms, and put it upon the bow of his saddle.\nAnd then he said to the man, Canst thou tell me unto some chapel, where\nthat I may bury this body? Come on, said he, here is one fast by. And\nso long they rode till they saw a fair tower, and afore it there seemed\nan old feeble chapel. And then they alight both, and put him into a\ntomb of marble.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How Sir Bors told his dream to a priest which he had dreamed, and of\n the counsel that the priest gave to him._\n\nNow leave we him here, said the good man, and go we to harbour till\nto-morrow, we will come here again to do him service. Sir, said Bors,\nbe ye a priest? Yea, forsooth, said he.\u2014Then I pray you tell me a\ndream that befell to me the last night.\u2014Say on, said he. Then he began\nso much to tell him of the great bird in the forest: and after told him\nof his birds, one white, another black; and of the rotten tree, and of\nthe white flowers. Sir, said the priest, I shall tell you a part now,\nand the other deal to-morrow. The white fowl betokeneth a gentlewoman,\nfair and rich, which loveth thee, and hath loved thee long; and if thou\nrefuse her love, she shall go die anon, if thou have no pity on her.\nThat signifieth the great bird, the which shall make thee for to refuse\nher. Now, for no fear nor for no dread that thou hast of God, thou\nshalt not refuse her, but thou wouldest not do it for to be holden\nchaste, for to conquer the praise of the vain-glory of the world; for\nthat shall befall thee now, and thou refuse her, that Launcelot, the\ngood knight thy cousin, shall die. And therefore men shall now say that\nthou art a manslayer, both of thy brother Sir Lionel, and of thy cousin\nSir Launcelot du Lake, the which thou mightest have saved and rescued\nfull easily. But thou weenedst to rescue a maid, which pertained\nnothing to thee. Now look thou whether it had been greater harm of thy\nbrother\u2019s death, or else to have suffered her for to have lost her\nhonour. Then asked he him, Hast thou heard the tokens of thy dream, the\nwhich I have told to you? Yea forsooth, said Sir Bors, all your\nexposition and declaring of my dream I have well understood and heard.\nThen said the man in this black clothing, Then is it in thy default if\nSir Launcelot thy cousin die. Sir, said Bors, that were me loth; for\nwit ye well there is nothing in the world but I had lever do it than to\nsee my lord Sir Launcelot du Lake to die in my default. Choose ye now\nthe one or the other, said the good man. And then he led Sir Bors into\nan high tower, and there he found knights and ladies. Those ladies said\nhe was welcome, and so they unarmed him. And when he was in his\ndoublet, men brought him a mantle furred with ermine, and put it about\nhim, and then they made him such cheer that he had forgotten all his\nsorrow and anguish, and only set his heart in these delights and\ndainties, and took no more thought for his brother Sir Lionel, neither\nof Sir Launcelot du Lake his cousin. And anon came out of a chamber to\nhim the fairest lady that ever he saw, and more richer beseen than ever\nhe saw queen Guenever, or any other estate. Lo! said they, Sir Bors,\nhere is the lady unto whom we all owe our service, and I trow she be\nthe richest lady, and the fairest of all the world, and the which\nloveth you best above all other knights, for she will have no knight\nbut you. And when he understood that language, he was abashed. Not for\nthen she saluted him, and he her; and then they sat down together, and\nspake of many things, insomuch that she besought him to be her love,\nfor she had loved him above all earthly men, and she should make him\nricher than ever was man of his age. When Sir Bors understood her words\nhe was right evil at ease, which in no manner would not break chastity,\nso wist not he how to answer her.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How the devil in a woman\u2019s likeness would have tempted Sir Bors, and\n how by God\u2019s grace he escaped._\n\nAlas! said she, Bors, shall ye not do my will? Madam, said Sir Bors,\nthere is no lady in this world whose will I will fulfil as of this\nthing, for my brother lieth dead which was slain right late. Ah, Bors,\nsaid she, I have loved you long for the great beauty I have seen in\nyou, and great hardiness I have heard of you, that needs ye must give\nme your love, and, therefore, I pray you grant it me. Truly, said he, I\nshall not do it in no manner of wise. Then she made him such sorrow as\nthough she would have died. Well, Bors, said she, unto this have ye\nbrought me nigh to mine end. And therewith she took him by the hand,\nand bade him behold her,\u2014And ye shall see how I shall die for your\nlove. Ah, said then he, that shall I never see. Then she departed, and\nwent up into a high battlement, and led with her twelve gentlewomen:\nand when they were above, one of the gentlewomen cried and said, Ah,\nSir Bors, gentle knight, have mercy on us all, and suffer my lady to\nhave her will: and if ye do not, we must suffer death with our lady,\nfor to fall down off this high tower. And if ye suffer us thus to die\nfor so little a thing, all ladies and gentlewomen will say of you\ndishonour. Then looked he upward: they seemed all ladies of great\nestate and richly and well beseen. Then had he of them great pity: not\nfor that he was un-counselled within himself, that lever he had they\nall had lost their souls than he is: and with that they fell adown all\nat once unto the earth. And when he saw that, he was all abashed, and\nhad thereof great marvel. With that he blessed his body and his visage;\nand anon he heard a great noise and a great cry, as though all the\nfiends of hell had been about him, and therewith he saw neither tower,\nne lady, ne gentlewoman, nor no chapel where he brought his brother to.\nThen held he up both his hands to the heaven, and said, Fair Father\nGod, I am grievously escaped. And then he took his arms and his horse,\nand rode on his way. Then he heard a clock smite on his right hand, and\nthither he came to an abbey on his right hand, closed with high walls,\nand there was let in. Then they supposed that he was one of the quest\nof the Sancgreal. So they led him into a chamber, and unarmed him.\nSirs, said Sir Bors, if there be any holy man in this house, I pray you\nlet me speak with him. Then one of them led him unto the abbot, which\nwas in a chapel. And then Sir Bors saluted him, and he him again. Sir,\nsaid Bors, I am a knight errant, and told him all the adventure which\nhe had seen. Sir knight, said the abbot, I wot not what ye be, for I\nwend never that a knight of your age might have been so strong in the\ngrace of our Lord Jesu Christ. Not for then ye shall go unto your rest,\nfor I will not counsel you this day, it is too late, and to-morrow I\nshall counsel you as I can.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_Of the holy communication of an abbot to Sir Bors, and how the abbot\n counselled him._\n\nAnd that night was Sir Bors served richly, and on the morn early he\nheard mass, and the abbot came to him and bad him good morrow, and Bors\nto him again. And then he told him he was a fellow of the quest of the\nSancgreal, and how he had charge of the holy man to eat bread and\nwater. Then [said the abbot] our Lord Jesu Christ shewed Him unto you,\nin the likeness of a soul that suffered great anguish for us since He\nwas put upon the cross, and bled His heart blood for mankind: there was\nthe token and the likeness of the Sancgreal that appeared afore you,\nfor the blood that the great fowl bled revived the chickens from death\nto life. And by the bare tree is betokened the world, which is naked\nand without fruit, but if it come of our Lord. Also the lady for whom\nye fought for, and king Aniause, which was lord there tofore,\nbetokeneth Jesu Christ, which is the King of the world; and that ye\nfought with the champion for the lady, this it betokeneth: for when ye\ntook the battle for the lady, by her ye shall understand the new law of\nJesu Christ and holy Church; and by the other lady ye shall understand\nthe old law and the fiend, which all day warreth against holy Church,\ntherefore ye did your battle with right. For ye be Jesu Christ\u2019s\nknights, therefore ye ought to be defenders of holy Church. And by the\nblack bird might ye understand the holy Church, which saith I am black,\nbut he is fair. And by the white bird might men understand the fiend.\nAnd I shall tell you how the swan is white without forth, and black\nwithin; it is hypocrisy which is without yellow or pale, and seemeth\nwithout forth the servants of Jesu Christ, but they be within so\nhorrible of filth and sin, and beguile the world evil. Also when the\nfiend appeared to thee in likeness of a man of religion, and blamed\nthee that thou left thy brother for a lady, so led thee where thou\nseemed thy brother was slain, but he is yet on live, and all was for to\nput thee in error, and bring thee unto vain hope and lechery, for he\nknew thou were tender hearted, and all was for thou shouldest not find\nthe blessed adventure of the Sancgreal. And the third fowl betokeneth\nthe strong battle against the fair ladies which were all devils. Also\nthe dry tree, and the white lily:\u2014the dry tree betokeneth thy brother\nSir Lionel, which is dry without virtue, and therefore many men ought\nto call him the rotten tree, and the worm-eaten tree, for he is a\nmurderer and doth contrary to the order of knighthood. And the two\nwhite flowers signify two maidens, the one is a knight which was\nwounded the other day, and the other is the gentlewoman which ye\nrescued; and why the other flower drew nigh the other, that was the\nknight which would have dishonoured her, and himself both. And, Sir\nBors, ye had been a great fool, and in great peril, to have seen those\ntwo flowers perish for to succour the rotten tree, for and they had\nsinned together they had been damned: and for that ye rescued them\nboth, men might call you a very knight and servant of Jesu Christ.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How Sir Bors met with his brother Sir Lionel, and how Sir Lionel would\n have slain Sir Bors._\n\nThen went Sir Bors from thence, and commended the abbot unto God. And\nthen he rode all that day, and harboured with an old lady. And on the\nmorn he rode to a castle in a valley, and there he met with a yeoman\ngoing a great pace toward a forest. Say me, said Sir Bors, canst thou\ntell me of any adventure? Sir, said he, here shall be under this castle\na great and a marvellous tournament. Of what folks shall it be? said\nSir Bors. The earl of Plains (said he) shall be on the one party, and\nthe lady\u2019s nephew of Hervin on the other party. Then Bors thought to be\nthere, if he might meet with his brother Sir Lionel, or any other of\nhis fellowship which were in the quest of the Sancgreal. And then he\nturned to an hermitage that was in the entry of the forest. And when he\nwas come thither, he found there Sir Lionel his brother, which sat all\narmed at the entry of the chapel door, for to abide there harbour till\non the morn that the tournament shall be. And when Sir Bors saw him he\nhad great joy of him, that was it marvel to tell of his joy. And then\nhe alight off his horse and said, Fair sweet brother, when came ye\nhither? Anon as Sir Lionel saw him he said, Ah Bors, ye may not make\nnone avaunt, but, as for you, I might have been slain; when ye saw two\nknights leading me away, beating me, ye left me to succour a\ngentlewoman, and suffered me in peril of death: for never erst ne did\nno brother to another so great an untruth. And for that misdeed now I\nensure you but death, for well have ye deserved it; therefore keep thee\nfrom henceforward, and that shall ye find as soon as I am armed. When\nSir Bors understood his brother\u2019s wrath, he kneeled down to the earth,\nand cried him mercy, holding up both his hands, and prayed him to\nforgive him his evil will. Nay, said Lionel, that shall never be, and I\nmay have the higher hand, that I make mine avow to God: thou shalt have\ndeath for it, for it were pity ye lived any longer. Right so he went\nin, and took his harness, and mounted upon his horse, and came tofore\nhim and said, Bors, keep thee from me, for I shall do to thee as I\nwould to a felon or a traitor, for ye be the untruest knight that ever\ncame out of so worthy an house as was king Bors de Ganis, which was our\nfather; therefore start upon thy horse, and so shall ye be most at your\nadvantage. And but if ye will, I will run upon thee there as ye stand\nupon foot, and so the shame shall be mine and the harm yours; but of\nthat shame reck I nought. When Sir Bors saw that he must fight with his\nbrother or else to die, he nist not what to do. Then his heart\ncounselled him not thereto, in as much as Lionel was born or he,\nwherefore he ought to bear him reverence; yet kneeled he down afore\nLionel\u2019s horse feet, and said, Fair sweet brother, have mercy upon me\nand slay me not, and have in remembrance the great love which ought to\nbe between us twain. What Sir Bors said to Lionel he recked not, for\nthe fiend had brought him in such a will that he should slay him. Then\nwhen Lionel saw he would none other, and that he would not have risen\nto give him battle, he rushed over him, so that he smote Bors with his\nhorse feet upward to the earth, and hurt him so sore that he swooned of\ndistress, the which he felt in himself to have died without confession.\nSo when Lionel saw this, he alight off his horse, to have smitten off\nhis head. And so he took him by the helm, and would have rent it from\nhis head. Then came the hermit running unto him, which was a good man\nand of great age, and well had he heard all the words that were between\nthem, and so fell down upon Sir Bors.\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n_How Sir Colgrevance fought against Sir Lionel for to save Sir Bors,\n and how the hermit was slain._\n\nThen he said to Lionel, Ah, gentle knight, have mercy upon me and on\nthy brother, for if thou slay him thou shalt be dead of sin, and that\nwere sorrowful; for he is one of the worthiest knights of the world,\nand of the best conditions. So God me help, said Lionel, Sir priest,\nbut if ye flee from him I shall slay you, and he shall never the sooner\nbe quit. Certes, said the good man, I had lever ye slay me than him,\nfor my death shall not be great harm, not half so much as of his. Well,\nsaid Lionel, I am agreed; and set his hand to his sword, and smote him\nso hard that his head went backward. Not for that he restrained him of\nhis evil will, but took his brother by the helm, and unlaced it to have\nstricken off his head, and had slain him without fail, but so it\nhapped, Colgrevance, a fellow of the Round Table, came at that time\nthither, as our Lord\u2019s will was. And when he saw the good man slain, he\nmarvelled much what it might be. And then he beheld Lionel would have\nslain his brother, and knew Sir Bors which he loved right well. Then\nstart he down and took Lionel by the shoulders, and drew him strongly\naback from Bors, and said, Lionel, will ye slay your brother, the\nworthiest knight of the world one? and that should no good man suffer.\nWhy, said Sir Lionel, will ye let me? therefore if ye intermit you in\nthis, I shall slay you, and him after. Why, said Colgrevance, is this\nsooth, that ye will slay him? Slay him will I, said he, who so say the\ncontrary; for he hath done so much against me that he hath well\ndeserved it; and so ran upon him, and would have smitten him through\nthe head; and Sir Colgrevance ran betwixt them and said, And ye be so\nhardy to do so mote, we two shall meddle together. When Lionel\nunderstood his words, he took his shield afore him, and asked him what\nhe was; and he told him Colgrevance, one of his fellows. Then Lionel\ndefied him, and gave him a great stroke through the helm. Then he drew\nhis sword, for he was a passing good knight, and defended him right\nmanfully. So long endured the battle that Sir Bors rose up all\nanguishly, and beheld Sir Colgrevance, the good knight, fight with his\nbrother for his quarrel. Then was he full sorry and heavy, and thought,\nif Colgrevance slew him that was his brother he should never have joy,\nand if his brother slew Colgrevance the shame should ever be his. Then\nwould he have risen to have departed them but he had not so much might\nto stand on foot: so he abode him so long till Colgrevance had the\nworse, for Sir Lionel was of great chivalry and right hardy, for he had\npierced the hauberk and the helm, that he abode but death. For he had\nlost much of his blood, that it was marvel that he might stand upright.\nThen beheld he Sir Bors, which sat dressing him upward, and said, Ah\nBors, why come ye not to cast me out of peril of death, wherein I have\nput me to succour you, which were right now nigh the death? Certes,\nsaid Lionel, that shall not avail you, for none of you shall bear\nother\u2019s warrant, but that ye shall die both of my hand. When Bors heard\nthat, he did so much he rose and put on his helm. Then perceived he\nfirst the hermit priest which was slain, then made he a marvellous\nsorrow upon him.\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n_How Sir Lionel slew Sir Colgrevance, and how after he would have slain\n Sir Bors._\n\nThen oft Colgrevance cried upon Sir Bors, Why will ye let me die here\nfor your sake? if it please you that I die for you the death, it will\nplease me the better for to save a worthy man. With that word Sir\nLionel smote off the helm from his head. Then Colgrevance saw that he\nmight not escape; then he said, Fair sweet Jesu, that I have misdone\nhave mercy upon my soul; for such sorrow that my heart suffereth for\ngoodness, and for alms deed that I would have done here, be to me\naligement of penance unto my soul\u2019s health. At these words Lionel smote\nhim so sore that he bare him to the earth. So when he had slain\nColgrevance, he ran upon his brother as a fiendly man, and gave him\nsuch a stroke that he made him stoop; and he, that was full of\nhumility, prayed him, for God\u2019s love to leave this battle: For and it\nbefell, fair brother, that I slew you, or ye me, we should be dead of\nthat sin. Never God me help but if I have on you mercy, and I may have\nthe better hand. Then drew Bors his sword, all weeping, and said, Fair\nbrother, God knoweth mine intent. Ah, fair brother, ye have done full\nevil this day to slay such an holy priest, the which never trespassed.\nAlso ye have slain a gentle knight, and one of our fellows. And well\nwot ye that I am not afeard of you greatly, but I dread the wrath of\nGod; and this is an unkindly war, therefore God shew miracle upon us\nboth. Now God have mercy upon me, though I defend my life against my\nbrother. With that Bors lift up his hand, and would have smitten his\nbrother.\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n_How there came a voice which charged Sir Bors to touch not him, and of\n a cloud that came between them._\n\nAnd then he heard a voice that said, Flee, Bors, and touch him not, or\nelse thou shalt slay him. Right so alight a cloud betwixt them in\nlikeness of a fire, and a marvellous flame, that both their two shields\nburnt. Then were they sore afraid, that they fell both to the earth,\nand lay there a great while in a swoon. And when they came to\nthemselves, Bors saw that his brother had no harm: then he held up both\nhis hands, for he dread God had taken vengeance upon him. With that he\nheard a voice say, Bors, go hence and bear thy brother no longer\nfellowship, but take thy way anon right to the sea, for Sir Percivale\nabideth thee there. Then he said to his brother, Fair sweet brother,\nforgive me, for God\u2019s love, all that I have trespassed unto you. Then\nhe answered, God forgive it thee, and I do gladly. So Sir Bors departed\nfrom him, and rode the next way to the sea. And at the last, by fortune\nhe came to an abbey which was nigh the sea. That night Bors rested him\nthere, and in his sleep there came a voice to him, and bad him go to\nthe sea; then he start up, and made a sign of the cross in the midst of\nhis forehead, and took his harness, and made ready his horse, and\nmounted upon him. And at a broken wall he rode out, and rode so long\ntill that he came to the sea. And on the strand he found a ship covered\nall with white samite. And he alight, and betook him to Jesu Christ.\nAnd as soon as he entered into the ship, the ship departed into the\nsea, and went so fast that him seemed the ship went flying, but it was\nsoon dark, so that he might know no man, and so he slept till it was\nday. Then he awaked, and saw in the midst of the ship a knight lie, all\narmed save his helm. Then knew he that it was Sir Percivale of Wales,\nand then he made of him right great joy. But Sir Percivale was abashed\nof him, and he asked him what he was. Ah, fair sir, said Bors, know ye\nme not? Certes, said he, I marvel how ye came hither, but if our Lord\nbrought you hither himself: then Sir Bors smiled, and did off his helm.\nThen Percivale knew him, and either made great joy of other, that it\nwas marvel to hear. Then Bors told him how he came into the ship, and\nby whose admonishment. And either told other of their temptations, as\nye have heard toforehand. So went they downward in the sea, one while\nbackward another while forward, and every each comforted other, and oft\nwere in their prayers. Then said Sir Percivale, We lack nothing but\nGalahad the good knight.\n\n And thus endeth the syxteenth book whiche is of syre Gawayne, Ector de\n marys, and syre Bors de ganys and sir percyual.\n\n And here foloweth the seuententh book which is of the noble knyghte\n syre Galahad.\n\n\n\n\n The Seventeenth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How Sir Galahad fought at a tournament, and how he was known of Sir\n Gawaine and Sir Ector de Maris._\n\nNow saith this story, when Galahad had rescued Percivale from the\ntwenty knights, he rode then into a vast forest, wherein he rode many\njourneys, and he found many adventures, the which he brought to an end,\nwhereof the story maketh here no mention. Then he took his way to the\nsea on a day, and it befell as he passed by a castle where was a wonder\ntournament, but they without had done so much that they within were put\nto the worse, yet were they within good knights enough. When Galahad\nsaw that those within were at so great a mischief that men slew them at\nthe entry of the castle, then he thought to help them, and put a spear\nforth, and smote the first that he fell to the earth, and the spear\nbrake to pieces. Then he drew his sword, and smote there as they were\nthickest, and so he did wonderful deeds of arms, that all they\nmarvelled. Then it happed that Gawaine and Sir Ector de Maris were with\nthe knights without; but when they espied the white shield with the red\ncross, the one said to the other, Yonder is the good knight Sir Galahad\nthe haut prince: now he should be a great fool which should meet with\nhim to fight. So by adventure he came by Sir Gawaine, and he smote him\nso hard that he clave his helm, and the coif of iron unto his head, so\nthat Gawaine fell to the earth: but the stroke was so great, that it\nslanted down to the earth, and carved the horse shoulder in two. When\nEctor saw Gawaine down, he drew him aside, and thought it no wisdom for\nto abide him, and also for natural love, that he was his uncle. Thus\nthrough his great hardiness he beat aback all the knights without. And\nthen they within came out and chased them all about. But when Galahad\nsaw there would none turn again, he stole away privily, so that none\nwist where he was become. Now by my head, said Gawaine to Ector, now\nare the wonders true that were said of Launcelot du Lake, that the\nsword which stuck in the stone should give me such a buffet that I\nwould not have it for the best castle in this world, and soothly now it\nis proved true, for never before had I such a stroke of man\u2019s hand.\nSir, said Ector, me seemeth your quest is done. And yours is not done,\nsaid Gawaine, but mine is done; I shall seek no further. Then Gawaine\nwas borne into a castle, and unarmed him, and laid him in a rich bed,\nand a leech found that he might live, and to be whole within a month.\nThus Gawaine and Ector abode together. For Sir Ector would not away\ntill Gawaine were whole. And the good knight Galahad rode so long till\nhe came that night to the castle of Carboneck; and it befell him thus\nthat he was benighted in an hermitage. So the good man was fain when he\nsaw he was a knight errant. Then when they were at rest, there came a\ngentlewoman knocking at the door, and called Galahad, and so the good\nman came to the door to wit what she would. Then she called the hermit,\nSir Ulfin, I am a gentlewoman that would speak with the knight that is\nwith you. Then the good man awaked Galahad, and bad him arise, and\nspeak with a gentlewoman that seemeth hath great need of you. Then\nGalahad went to her, and asked her what she would. Galahad, said she, I\nwill that ye arm you, and mount upon your horse, and follow me, for I\nshall shew you within these three days the highest adventure that ever\nany knight saw. Anon Galahad armed him, and took his horse and\ncommended him to God, and bad the gentlewoman go, and he would follow\nthere as she liked.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How Sir Galahad rode with a damsel, and came to the ship whereas Sir\n Bors and Sir Percivale were in._\n\nSo she rode as fast as her palfrey might bear her, till that she came\nto the sea the which was called Collibe. And at the night they came\nunto a castle in a valley, was closed with a running water, and with\nstrong walls and high. And so she entered into the castle with Galahad,\nand there had he great cheer, for the lady of that castle was the\ndamsel\u2019s lady. So when he was unarmed, then said the damsel, Madam,\nshall we abide here all this day? Nay, said she, but till he hath\ndined, and till he hath slept a little. So he eat and slept a while,\ntill that the maid called him, and armed him by torchlight. And when\nthe maid was horsed, and he both, the lady took Galahad a fair child\nand rich, and so they departed from the castle, till they came to the\nsea-side, and there they found the ship where Bors and Percivale were\nin, the which cried on the ship\u2019s board, Sir Galahad, ye be welcome, we\nhave abiden you long. And when he heard them, he asked them what they\nwere. Sir, said she, leave your horse here, and I shall leave mine; and\ntook their saddles and their bridles with them, and made a cross on\nthem, and so entered into the ship. And the two knights received them\nboth with great joy, and every each knew other. And so the wind arose,\nand drove them through the sea in a marvellous place. And within a\nwhile it dawned. Then did Galahad off his helm and his sword, and asked\nof his fellows from whence came that fair ship. Truly, said they, ye\nwot as well as we, but of God\u2019s grace. And then they told every each to\nother of all their hard adventures, and of their great temptation.\nTruly, said Galahad, ye are much bounden to God, for ye have escaped\ngreat adventures: and had not the gentlewoman been I had not come here;\nfor as for you, I wend never to have found you in these strange\ncountries. Ah, Galahad, said Bors, if Launcelot your father were here\nthen were we well at ease, for then me seemeth we failed nothing. That\nmay not be, said Galahad, but if it please our Lord. By then the ship\nwent from the land of Logris, and by adventure it arrived up betwixt\ntwo rocks passing great and marvellous, but there they might not land,\nfor there was a swallow of the sea, save there was another ship, and\nupon it they might go without danger. Go we thither, said the\ngentlewoman, and there shall we see adventures, for so is our Lord\u2019s\nwill. And when they came thither, they found the ship rich enough, but\nthey found neither man nor woman therein. But they found in the end of\nthe ship two fair letters written, which said a dreadful word and a\nmarvellous:\u2014Thou man which shall enter into this ship, beware thou be\nin steadfast belief, for I am Faith; and therefore beware how thou\nenterest, for and thou fail I shall not help thee. Then said the\ngentlewoman, Percivale, wot ye what I am? Certes, said he, nay, to my\nwitting. Wit you well, said she, that I am thy sister, which am\ndaughter of king Pellinore. And therefore wit ye well ye are the man in\nthe world that I most love. And if ye be not in perfect belief of Jesu\nChrist, enter not in no manner of wise, for then should ye perish in\nthe ship, for he is so perfect he will suffer no sin in him. When\nPercivale understood that she was his very sister, he was inwardly\nglad, and said, Fair sister, I shall enter therein, for if I be a\nmis-creature, or an untrue knight, there shall I perish.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How Sir Galahad entered into the ship, and of a fair bed therein, with\n other marvellous things, and of a sword._\n\nIn the mean while Galahad blessed him and entered therein, and then\nnext the gentlewoman, and then Sir Bors and Sir Percivale. And when\nthey were therein, it was so marvellous fair and rich that they\nmarvelled. And in the midst of the ship was a fair bed, and Sir Galahad\nwent thereto, and found there a crown of silk. And at the feet was a\nsword rich and fair, and it was drawn out of the sheath half a foot and\nmore, and the sword was of divers fashions, and the pommel was of\nstone, and there was in him all manner of colours that any man might\nfind, and every each of the colours had divers virtues, and the scales\nof the haft were of two ribs of divers beasts. The one beast was a\nserpent, which was conversant in Calidone, and is called the serpent of\nthe fiend. And the bone of him is of such a virtue, that there is no\nhand that handleth him shall never be weary nor hurt: and the other\nbeast is a fish, which is not right great, and haunteth the flood of\nEufrates; and that fish is called Ertanax, and his bones be of such a\nmanner of kind, that who that handleth them shall have so much will\nthat he shall never be weary, and he shall not think on joy nor sorrow\nthat he hath had, but only that thing that he beholdeth before him. And\nas for this sword there shall never man begripe it at the handle but\none, but he shall pass all other. In the name of God, said Percivale, I\nshall essay to handle it. So he set his hand to the sword, but he might\nnot begripe it. By my faith, said he, now have I failed. Bors set his\nhand thereto and failed. Then Galahad beheld the sword, and saw the\nletters like blood, that said, Let see who shall assay to draw me out\nof my sheath, but if he be more hardier than other, and who that\ndraweth me, wit ye well that he shall never fail of shame of his body,\nor to be wounded to the death. By my faith, said Galahad, I would draw\nthis sword out of the sheath, but the offending is so great, that I\nshall not set my hand thereto. Now sir, said the gentlewoman, wit ye\nwell that the drawing of this sword is forbidden to all men, save all\nonly unto you. Also this ship arrived in the realm of Logris, and that\ntime was deadly war between king Labor, which was father unto the\nmaimed king, and king Hurlame, which was a Saracen. But then was he\nnewly christened, so that men held him afterwards one of the wittiest\nmen of the world. And so upon a day it befell that king Labor and king\nHurlame had assembled their folk upon the sea, where this ship was\narrived, and there king Hurlame was discomfit, and his men slain, and\nhe was afeard to be dead, and fled to his ship, and there found this\nsword, and drew it, and came out and found king Labor, the man in the\nworld of all Christendom in whom was then the greatest faith. And when\nking Hurlame saw king Labor, he dressed this sword, and smote him upon\nthe helm so hard, that he clave him and his horse to the earth with the\nfirst stroke of his sword. And it was in the realm of Logris; and so\nbefell great pestilence and great harm to both realms. For sithen\nincreased neither corn nor grass, nor well nigh no fruit, nor in the\nwater was no fish, wherefore men call it the lands of the two marches,\nthe waste land, for that dolorous stroke. And when king Hurlame saw\nthis sword so carving, he turned again to fetch the scabbard: and so\ncame into this ship, and entered, and put up the sword in the sheath.\nAnd as soon as he had done it, he fell down dead afore the bed. Thus\nwas the sword proved, that none ne drew it but he were dead or maimed.\nSo lay he there till a maiden came into the ship, and cast him out, for\nthere was no man so hardy of the world to enter into that ship for the\ndefence.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_Of the marvels of the sword and of the scabbard._\n\nAnd then beheld they the scabbard; it seemed to be of a serpent\u2019s skin.\nAnd thereon were letters of gold and silver. And the girdle was but\npoorly to come to, and not able to sustain such a rich sword, and the\nletters said: He which shall wield me, ought to be more harder than any\nother, if he bear me as truly as I ought to be borne. For the body of\nhim which I ought to hang by, he shall not be shamed in no place while\nhe is gird with this girdle, nor never none be so hardy to do away this\ngirdle for it ought not to be done away, but by the hands of a maid,\nand that she be a king\u2019s daughter, and queen\u2019s, and she must be a maid\nall the days of her life, both in will and in deed; and if she break\nher virginity, she shall die the most villainous death that ever did\nany woman. Sir, said Percivale, turn this sword, that we may see what\nis on the other side. And it was red as blood, with black letters as\nany coal, which said, He that shall praise me most, most shall he find\nme to blame at a great need, and to whom I should be most debonair\nshall I be most felon, and that shall be at one time. Fair brother,\nsaid she to Percivale, it befell about a forty year after the passion\nof Jesu Christ, that Nacien, the brother-in-law of king Mordrains, was\nborne into a town more than fourteen days\u2019 journey from his country, by\nthe commandment of our Lord, into an isle, into the parts of the west,\nthat men call the Isle of Turnance. So befell it that he found this\nship at the entry of a rock, and he found the bed, and this sword, as\nwe have heard now. Not for then he had not so much hardiness to draw\nit: and there he dwelled an eight days, and at the ninth day there fell\na great wind which departed him out of the isle, and brought him to\nanother isle by a rock, and there he found the greatest giant that ever\nman might see. Therewith came that horrible giant to slay him, and then\nhe looked about him, and might not fly, and he had nothing to defend\nhim with. So he ran to his sword, and when he saw it naked he praised\nit much, and then he shook it, and therewith he brake it in the midst.\nAh, said Nacien, the thing I most praised ought I now most to blame.\nAnd therewith he threw the pieces of his sword over his bed. And after\nhe lept over the board to fight with the giant, and slew him. And anon\nhe entered into the ship again, and the wind arose, and drove him\nthrough the sea, that by adventure he came to another ship where king\nMordrains was, which had been tempted full evil with a fiend in the\nport of perilous rock. And when that one saw the other they made great\njoy of other, and either told other of their adventure, and how the\nsword failed him at his most need. When Mordrains saw the sword he\npraised it much,\u2014but the breaking was not to do but by wickedness of\nthyselfward, for thou art in some sin:\u2014and there he took the sword,\nand set the pieces together, and they soldered as fair as ever they\nwere tofore; and there he put the sword in the sheath, and laid it down\non the bed. Then heard they a voice that said, Go out of this ship a\nlittle while, and enter into the other, for dread ye fall in deadly\nsin; for, and ye be found in deadly sin, ye may not escape but perish.\nAnd so they went into the other ship. And as Nacien went over the\nboard, he was smitten with a sword on the right foot, that he fell down\nnoseling to the ship\u2019s board, and therewith he said, O God, how am I\nhurt. And then there came a voice and said, Take thou that for thy\nforfeit that thou didst in drawing of this sword, therefore thou\nreceivest a wound, for thou were never worthy to handle it, as the\nwriting maketh mention. In the name of God, said Galahad, ye are right\nwise of these works.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How king Pelles was smitten through both thighs because he drew the\n sword, and other marvellous histories._\n\nSir, said she, there was a king that hight Pelles the maimed king. And\nwhile he might ride, he supported much Christendom, and holy Church. So\nupon a day he hunted in a wood of his which lasted unto the sea, and at\nthe last he lost his hounds and his knights, save only one: and there\nhe and his knight went till that they came toward Ireland, and there he\nfound the ship. And when he saw the letters and understood them, yet he\nentered, for he was right perfect of his life: but his knight had none\nhardiness to enter, and there found he this sword, and drew it out as\nmuch as ye may see. So therewith entered a spear, wherewith he was\nsmitten him through both the thighs, and never sith might he be healed,\nnor nought shall tofore we come to him. Thus, said she, was king\nPelles, your grandsire, maimed for his hardiness. In the name of God,\ndamsel, said Galahad. So they went toward the bed to behold all about\nit, and above the head there hung two swords. Also there were two\nspindles which were as white as any snow, and other that were as red as\nblood, and other above green as any emerald: of these three colours\nwere the spindles, and of natural colour within, and without any\npainting. These spindles, said the damsel, were when sinful Eve came to\ngather fruit, for which Adam and she were put out of paradise, she took\nwith her the bough on which the apple hung on. Then perceived she that\nthe branch was fair and green, and she remembered her the loss which\ncame from the tree. Then she thought to keep the branch as long as she\nmight. And for she had no coffer to keep it in, she put it in the\nearth. So by the will of our Lord the branch grew to a great tree\nwithin a little while, and was as white as any snow, branches, boughs,\nand leaves, that was a token a maiden planted it. But after the tree\nwhich was white became green as any grass, and all that came out of it.\nAnd in the same time there was Abel begotten; thus was the tree long of\ngreen colour. And so it befell many days after, under the same tree\nCain slew Abel, whereof befell great marvel. For anon as Abel had\nreceived the death under the green tree, it lost the green colour and\nbecame red, and that was in tokening of the blood. And anon all the\nplants died thereof, but the tree grew and waxed marvellously fair, and\nit was the fairest tree and the most delectable that any man might\nbehold and see, and so died the plants that grew out of it tofore the\ntime that Abel was slain under it. So long endured the tree till that\nSolomon king David\u2019s son reigned, and held the land after his father.\nThis Solomon was wise, and knew all the virtues of stones and trees,\nand so he knew the course of the stars, and many other diverse things.\n\nThis Solomon had an evil wife, where through he wend that there had\nnever been no good woman, and so he despised them in his books. So\nanswered a voice him once, Solomon, if heaviness come to a man by a\nwoman, ne reck thou never. For yet shall there come a woman whereof\nthere shall come greater joy unto man an hundred times more than this\nheaviness giveth sorrow, and that woman shall be born of thy lineage.\nThen when Solomon heard these words, he held himself but a fool, and\nthe truth he perceived by old books. Also the Holy Ghost shewed him the\ncoming of the glorious Virgin Mary. Then asked he of the voice if it\nshould be in the end of his lineage. Nay, said the voice, but there\nshall come a man which shall be a maid, and the last of your blood, and\nhe shall be as good a knight as duke Josua thy brother-in-law.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How Solomon took David\u2019s sword by the counsel of his wife, and of\n other matters marvellous._\n\nNow have I certified thee of that thou stoodst in doubt. Then was\nSolomon glad that there should come any such of his lineage, but ever\nhe marvelled and studied who that should be, and what his name might\nbe. His wife perceived that he studied, and thought that she would know\nit at some season, and so she waited her time, and asked of him the\ncause of his studying, and there he told her altogether how the voice\ntold him. Well, said she, I shall let make a ship of the best wood and\nmost durable that men may find. So Solomon sent for all the carpenters\nof the land and the best. And when they had made the ship, the lady\nsaid to Solomon, Sir, said she, since it is so that this knight ought\nto pass all other knights of chivalry which have been tofore him, and\nshall come after him, moreover I shall tell you, said she, ye shall go\ninto our Lord\u2019s temple, whereas is king David\u2019s sword, your father, the\nwhich is the marvellousest and sharpest that ever was taken in any\nknight\u2019s hand. Therefore take that, and take off the pommel, and\nthereto make ye a pommel of precious stones, that it be so subtilly\nmade that no man perceive it but that they be all one. And after make\nthere an hilt so marvellously and wonderly that no man may know it. And\nafter make a marvellous sheath. And when ye have made all this, I shall\nlet make a girdle thereto, such as shall please me. All this king\nSolomon did let make as she devised, both the ship and all the remnant.\nAnd when the ship was ready in the sea to sail, the lady let make a\ngreat bed, and marvellous rich, and set her upon the bed\u2019s head covered\nwith silk, and laid the sword at the feet, and the girdles were of\nhemp, and therewith the king was angry. Sir, wit ye well, said she,\nthat I have none so high a thing which were worthy to sustain so high a\nsword, and a maid shall bring other knights thereto, but I wot not when\nit shall be, nor what time. And there she let make a covering to the\nship, of cloth of silk that should never rot for no manner of weather.\nYet went that lady, and made a carpenter to come to the tree which Abel\nwas slain under. Now, said she, carve me out of this tree as much wood\nas will make me a spindle. Ah, madam, said he, this is the tree the\nwhich our first mother planted. Do it, said she, or else I shall\ndestroy thee. Anon as he began to work there came out drops of blood,\nand then would he have left, but she would not suffer him, and so he\ntook away as much wood as might make a spindle, and so she made him to\ntake as much of the green tree, and of the white tree. And when these\nthree spindles were shapen, she made them to be fastened upon the\nceiling of the bed. When Solomon saw this, he said to his wife, Ye have\ndone marvellously, for though all the world were here right now, they\ncould not devise wherefore all this was made, but our Lord himself, and\nthou that hast done it wotest not what it shall betoken. Now let it be,\nsaid she, for ye shall hear tidings sooner than ye ween.\n\nNow shall ye hear a wonderful tale of king Solomon and his wife.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_A wonderful tale of king Solomon and his wife._\n\nThat night lay Solomon before the ship with little fellowship. And when\nhe was on sleep, him thought there came from heaven a great company of\nangels, and alight into the ship, and took water which was brought by\nan angel in a vessel of silver, and sprinkled all the ship. And after\nhe came to the sword and drew letters on the hilt. And after went to\nthe ship\u2019s board, and wrote there other letters, which said: Thou man\nthat wilt enter within me, beware that thou be full within the faith,\nfor I ne am but faith and belief. When Solomon espied these letters he\nwas abashed, so that he durst not enter, and so drew him aback, and the\nship was anon shoven in the sea, and he went so fast that he lost sight\nof him within a little while. And then a little voice said, Solomon,\nthe last knight of thy lineage shall rest in this bed. Then went\nSolomon and awaked his wife, and told her of the adventures of the ship.\n\nNow saith the history, that a great while the three fellows beheld the\nbed and the three spindles. Then they were at certain that they were of\nnatural colours, without painting. Then they lift up a cloth which was\nabove the ground, and there they found a rich purse by seeming. And\nPercivale took it, and found therein a writ, and so he read it, and\ndevised the manner of the spindles, and of the ship, whence it came,\nand by whom it was made. Now, said Galahad, where shall we find the\ngentlewoman that shall make new girdles to the sword. Fair sir, said\nPercivale\u2019s sister, dismay you not, for by the leave of God I shall let\nmake a girdle to the sword, such one as shall belong thereto. And then\nshe opened a box, and took out girdles which were seemly wrought with\ngolden threads, and upon that were set full precious stones, and a rich\nbuckle of gold. Lo lords, said she, here is a girdle that ought to be\nset about the sword. And wit ye well the greatest part of this girdle\nwas made of my hair, which I loved well while that I was a woman of the\nworld. But as soon as I wist that this adventure was ordained me, I\nclipped off my hair and made this girdle in the name of God. Ye be well\nfound, said Sir Bors, for certes you have put us out of great pain,\nwherein we should have entered ne had your tidings been. Then went the\ngentlewoman and set it on the girdle of the sword. Now, said the\nfellowship, what is the name of the sword, and what shall we call it?\nTruly, said she, the name of the sword is, the sword with the strange\ngirdles, and the sheath, mover of blood; for no man that hath blood in\nhim shall never see the one part of the sheath which was made of the\ntree of life. Then they said to Galahad, In the name of Jesu Christ,\nand pray you that ye gird you with this sword, which hath been desired\nso much in the realm of Logris. Now let me begin, said Galahad, to\ngripe this sword for to give you courage: but wit ye well it belongeth\nno more to me then it doth to you. And then he griped about it with his\nfingers a great deal. And then she girt him about the middle with the\nsword:\u2014Now reck I not though I die, for now I hold me one of the\nblessed maidens of the world, which hath made the worthiest knight of\nthe world. Damsel, said Galahad, ye have done so much that I shall be\nyour knight all the days of my life. Then they went from that ship, and\nwent to the other. And anon the wind drove them into the sea a great\npace, but they had no victual: but it befell that they came on the morn\nto a castle that men call Carteloise, that was in the marches of\nScotland. And when they had passed the port, the gentlewoman said,\nLords, here be men arriven that, and they wist that ye were of king\nArthur\u2019s court, ye should be assailed anon. Damsel, said Galahad, he\nthat cast us out of the rock shall deliver us from them.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How Galahad and his fellows came to a castle, and how they were fought\n withal, and how they slew their adversaries, and other matters._\n\nSo it befell, as they spake thus there came a squire by them, and asked\nwhat they were. And they said they were of king Arthur\u2019s house. Is that\nsooth? said he. Now by my head, said he, ye be ill arrayed; and then\nturned he again unto the cliff fortress. And within a while they heard\na horn blow. Then a gentlewoman came to them, and asked them of whence\nthey were, and they told her. Fair lords, said she, for God\u2019s love turn\nagain if ye may, for ye be come unto your death. Nay, they said, we\nwill not turn again, for He shall help us in whose service we be\nentered in. Then as they stood talking, there came knights well armed,\nand bad them yield them, or else to die. That yielding, said they,\nshall be noyous to you; and therewith they let their horses run, and\nSir Percivale smote the foremost to the earth, and took his horse and\nmounted thereupon, and the same did Galahad. Also Sir Bors served\nanother so. For they had no horses in that country, for they left their\nhorses when they took their ship in other countries. And so when they\nwere horsed then began they to set upon them. And they of the castle\nfled into the strong fortress, and the three knights after them, into\nthe castle, and so alight on foot, and with their swords slew them\ndown, and gat into the hall. Then when they beheld the great multitude\nof people they had slain, they held themselves great sinners. Certes,\nsaid Bors, I ween and God had loved them that we should not have had\npower to have slain them thus but they have done so much against our\nLord that he will not suffer them to reign no longer. Say ye not so,\nsaid Galahad, for if they misdid against God the vengeance is not ours,\nbut to Him which hath power thereof. So came there out of a chamber a\ngood man which was a priest, and bear God\u2019s body in a cup. And when he\nsaw them which lay dead in the hall, he was all abashed. And Galahad\ndid off his helm and kneeled down, and so did his two fellows. Sir,\nsaid they, have ye no dread of us, for we be of king Arthur\u2019s court.\nThen asked the good man how they were slain so suddenly; and they told\nit him. Truly, said the good man, and ye might live as long as the\nworld might endure, never might ye have done so great an alms-deed as\nthis. Sir, said Galahad, I repent me much, inasmuch as they were\nchristened. Nay, repent you not, said he, for they were not christened,\nand I shall tell you how that I wot of this castle. Here was lord earl\nHernox not but one year, and he had three sons good knights of arms,\nand a daughter the fairest gentlewoman that men knew. So those three\nknights loved their sister so sore that they burnt in love, and so they\ndishonoured her, maugre her head. And for she cried to her father, they\nslew her, and took their father and put him in prison, and wounded him\nnigh to the death, but a cousin of hers rescued him. And then did they\ngreat untruth: they slew clerks and priests, and made beat down\nchapels, that our Lord\u2019s service might not be served nor said; and this\nsame day their father sent to me for to be confessed and houseled, but\nsuch shame had never man as I had this day with the three brethren: but\nthe earl bad me suffer, for he said they should not long endure, for\nthree servants of our Lord should destroy them: and now it is brought\nto an end. And by this ye may wit that our Lord is not displeased with\nyour deeds. Certes, said Galahad, and it had not pleased our Lord,\nnever should we have slain so many men in so little a while. And then\nthey brought the earl Hernox out of prison into the midst of the hall,\nthat knew Galahad anon, and yet he saw him never afore but by\nrevelation of our Lord.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How the three knights, with Percivale\u2019s sister, came into the waste\n forest, and of an hart and four lions and other things._\n\nThen began he to weep right tenderly, and said, Long have I abiden your\ncoming, but for God\u2019s love hold me in your arms, that my soul may\ndepart out of my body in so good a man\u2019s arms as ye be. Gladly, said\nGalahad. And then one said on high that all heard, Galahad, well hast\nthou avenged me on God\u2019s enemies. Now behoveth thee to go to the maimed\nking as soon as thou mayest, for he shall receive by thee health which\nhe hath abiden so long. And therewith the soul departed from the body.\nAnd Galahad made him to be buried as he ought to be.\n\nRight so departed the three knights, and Percivale\u2019s sister with them.\nAnd so they came into a waste forest, and there they saw afore them a\nwhite hart, which four lions led. Then they took them to assent for to\nfollow after, for to know whither they repaired; and so they rode\nafter, a great pace, till that they came to a valley, and thereby was\nan hermitage where a good man dwelled; and the hart and the lions\nentered also. So when they saw all this, they turned to the chapel, and\nsaw the good man in a religious weed, and in the armour of our Lord,\nfor he would sing mass of the Holy Ghost, and so they entered in and\nheard mass. And at the secrets of the mass, they three saw the hart\nbecome a man, the which marvelled them, and set him upon the altar in a\nrich siege, and saw the four lions were changed, the one to the form of\na man, the other to the form of a lion, and the third to an eagle, and\nthe fourth was changed unto an ox. Then took they their siege where the\nhart sat, and went out through a glass window, and there was nothing\nperished nor broken, and they heard a voice say, In such a manner\nentered the son of God in the womb of a maid, Mary. And when they heard\nthese words, they fell down to the earth, and were astonied, and\ntherewith was a great clearness. And when they were come to themselves\nagain, they went to the good man, and prayed him that he would say them\ntruth. What thing have ye seen? said he: and they told him all that\nthey had seen. Ah, lords, said he, ye be welcome, now wot I well ye be\nthe good knights the which shall bring the Sancgreal to an end; for ye\nbe they unto whom our Lord shall shew great secrets. And well ought our\nLord be signified to an hart; for the hart when he is old he waxeth\nyoung again in his white skin: right so cometh again our Lord from\ndeath to life, for he lost earthly flesh, that was the deadly flesh\nwhich he had taken in the womb of the blessed virgin Mary; and for that\ncause appeared our Lord as a while hart without spot. And the four that\nwere with him is to understand the four evangelists, which set in\nwriting a part of Jesu Christ\u2019s deeds that he did some time when he was\namong you an earthly man. For wit ye well never erst might no knight\nknow the truth, for, ofttimes or this, our Lord shewed him unto good\nmen and unto good knights in likeness of an hart. But I suppose from\nhenceforth ye shall see no more. And then they joyed much, and dwelled\nthere all that day. And upon the morrow, when they had heard mass they\ndeparted, and commended the good man to God. And so they came to a\ncastle, and passed by. So there came a knight armed after them, and\nsaid, Lords, hark what I shall say to you.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How they were desired of a strange custom, the which they would not\n obey; and how they fought and slew many knights._\n\nThis gentlewoman that ye lead with you is a maid? Sir, said she, a maid\nI am. Then he took her by the bridle and said, By the holy cross ye\nshall not escape me tofore ye have yielden the custom of this castle.\nLet her go, said Percivale; ye be not wise, for a maid in what place\nshe cometh is free. So in the meanwhile there came out a ten or twelve\nknights armed, out of the castle, and with them came gentlewomen which\nheld a dish of silver, and then they said, This gentlewoman must yield\nus the custom of this castle. Sir, said a knight, what maid passeth\nhereby shall give this dish full of blood of her right arm. Blame have\nye, said Galahad, that brought up such customs, and I ensure you of\nthis gentlewoman ye shall fail while that I live. Truly, said Sir\nPercivale, I had lever be slain. And I also, said Sir Bors. By my\ntruth, said the knight, then shall ye die, for ye may not endure\nagainst us, though ye were the best knights of the world. Then let them\nrun each to other, and the three fellows beat the ten knights, and then\nset their hands to their swords, and beat them down and slew them. Then\nthere came out of the castle well a threescore knights armed. Fair\nlords, said the three fellows, have mercy upon yourselves, and have not\nado with us. Nay, fair lords, said the knights of the castle, we\ncounsel you to withdraw you, for ye are the best knights of the world,\nand therefore do no more, for ye have done enough. We will let you go\nwith this harm, but we must needs have the custom. Certes, said\nGalahad, for nought speak ye. Well, said they, will ye die? We be not\nyet come thereto, said Galahad. Then began they to meddle together, and\nGalahad drew his sword with the strange girdles, and smote on the right\nhand and on the left hand, and slew what that ever abode him, and did\nsuch marvels that there was none that saw him but they wend he had been\nnone earthly man but a monster. And his two fellows halp him passing\nwell, and so they held the journey every each in like hard, till it was\nnight. Then must they needs part. So came a good knight and said to the\nthree fellows, If ye will come in to night, and take such harbour as\nhere is, ye shall be right welcome, and we shall ensure you by the\nfaith of our bodies, as we are true knights, to leave you in such\nestate to-morrow as we find you, without any falsehood. And as soon as\nye know of the custom we dare say ye will accord. Therefore, for God\u2019s\nlove, said the gentlewoman, go thither, and spare not for me. Go we,\nsaid Galahad, and so they entered into the castle. And when they were\nalight, they made great joy of them. So within a while the three\nknights asked the custom of the castle, and wherefore it was. What it\nis, said they, we will say you sooth.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How Sir Percivale\u2019s sister bled a dish full of blood for to heal a\n lady; wherefore she died; and how that the body was put in a ship._\n\nThere is in this castle a gentlewoman which we and this castle is hers,\nand many other. So it befell many years agone there fell upon her a\nmalady. And when she had lain a great while, she fell into a measle,\nand of no leech she could have no remedy. But at the last an old man\nsaid, and she might have a dish full of blood of a maid and a clean\nvirgin in will and in work, and a king\u2019s daughter, that blood should be\nher health, and for to anoint her withal: and for this thing was this\ncustom made. Now, said Percivale\u2019s sister, Fair knights, I see well\nthat this gentlewoman is but dead. Certes, said Galahad, and if ye\nbleed so much, ye may die. Truly, said she, and I die for to heal her,\nI shall get me great worship and soul\u2019s health, and worship to my\nlineage, and better is one harm than twain. And therefore there shall\nbe no more battle, but to-morn I shall yield you your custom of this\ncastle. And then there was great joy, more than there was tofore. For\nelse had there been mortal war upon the morn; notwithstanding she would\nnone other, whether they would or nold. That night were the three\nfellows eased with the best, and on the morn they heard mass, and Sir\nPercivale\u2019s sister bad bring forth the sick lady. So she was, the which\nwas evil at ease. Then said she, Who shall let me blood? So one came\nforth and let her blood, and she bled so much that the dish was full.\nThen she lift up her hand and blessed her. And then she said to the\nlady, Madam, I am come to the death, for to make you whole; for God\u2019s\nlove pray for me. With that she fell in a swoon. Then Galahad and his\ntwo fellows start up to her, and lift her up, and stanched her, but she\nhad bled so much that she might not live. Then she said, when she was\nawaked, Fair brother Percivale, I die for the healing of this lady. So\nI require you that ye bury not me in this country, but as soon as I am\ndead put me in a boat at the next haven, and let me go as adventure\nwill lead me; and as soon as ye three come to the city of Sarras, there\nto achieve the holy Graile, ye shall find me under a tower arrived, and\nthere bury me in the spiritual place, for I say you so much, there\nGalahad shall be buried, and ye also, in the same place. Then Percivale\nunderstood these words, and granted it her, weeping. And then said a\nvoice, Lords and fellows, to-morrow at the hour of prime ye three shall\ndepart every each from other, till the adventure bring you to the\nmaimed king. Then asked she her Saviour, and as soon as she had\nreceived him the soul departed from the body. So the same day was the\nlady healed, when she was anointed withal. Then Sir Percivale made a\nletter of all that she had holpen them as in strange adventures, and\nput it in her right hand, and so laid her in a barge, and covered it\nwith black silk; and so the wind arose, and drove the barge from the\nland, and all knights beheld it, till it was out of their sight.\n\nThen they drew all to the castle, and so forthwith there fell a sudden\ntempest, and a thunder, lightning, and rain, as all the earth would\nhave broken. So half the castle turned up so down. So it passed\nevensong or the tempest was ceased. Then they saw afore them a knight\narmed and wounded hard in the body and in the head, that said, Oh God,\nsuccour me, for now it is need! After this knight came another knight\nand a dwarf which cried to them afar, Stand, ye may not escape. Then\nthe wounded knight held up his hands to God, that he should not die in\nsuch tribulation. Truly, said Galahad, I shall succour him for His sake\nthat he calleth upon. Sir, said Bors, I shall do it, for it is not for\nyou, for he is but one knight. Sir, said he, I grant. So Sir Bors took\nhis horse, and commended him to God, and rode after to rescue the\nwounded knight.\n\nNow turn we to the two fellows.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How Galahad and Percivale found in a castle many tombs of maidens that\n had bled to death._\n\nNow saith the story that all night Galahad and Percivale were in a\nchapel in their prayers, for to save Sir Bors. So on the morrow they\ndressed them in their harness toward the castle, to wit what was fallen\nof them therein. And when they came there, they found neither man nor\nwoman that he ne was dead by the vengeance of our Lord. With that they\nheard a voice that said, This vengeance is for blood shedding of\nmaidens. Also they found at the end of the chapel a churchyard, and\ntherein might they see a threescore fair tombs, and that place was so\nfair and so delectable that it seemed them there had been none tempest.\nFor there lay the bodies of all the good maidens which were martyred\nfor the sick lady\u2019s sake. Also they found the names of every each, and\nof what blood they were come, and all were of kings\u2019 blood, and twelve\nof them were kings\u2019 daughters. Then they departed, and went into a\nforest. Now, said Percivale unto Galahad, we must depart; so pray we\nour Lord that we may meet together in short time. Then they did off\ntheir helms, and kissed together, and wept at their departing.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot entered into the ship where Sir Percivale\u2019s sister\n lay dead; and how he met with Sir Galahad his son._\n\nNow saith the history, that when Launcelot was come to the water of\nMortoise, as it is rehearsed before, he was in great peril, and so he\nlaid him down and slept, and took the adventure that God would send him.\n\nSo when he was asleep, there came a vision unto him and said,\nLauncelot, arise up, and take thine armour, and enter into the first\nship that thou shalt find. And when he had heard these words, he start\nup and saw great clearness about him. And then he lift up his hand and\nblessed him, and so took his arms, and made him ready; and so by\nadventure he came by a strand, and found a ship, the which was without\nsail or oar. And as soon as he was within the ship, there he felt the\nmost sweetness that ever he felt; and he was fulfilled with all thing\nthat he thought on or desired. Then said he, Fair sweet Father Jesu\nChrist, I wot not in what joy I am, for this joy passeth all earthly\njoys that ever I was in. And so in this joy he laid him down to the\nship\u2019s board, and slept till day. And when he awoke, he found there a\nfair bed, and therein lying a gentlewoman dead, the which was Sir\nPercivale\u2019s sister. And as Launcelot devised her, he espied in her\nright hand a writ, the which he read, the which told him all the\nadventures that ye have heard tofore, and of what lineage she was come.\nSo with this gentlewoman Sir Launcelot was a month and more. If ye\nwould ask how he lived, He that fed the people of Israel with manna in\nthe desert, so was he fed. For every day, when he had said his prayers,\nhe was sustained with the grace of the Holy Ghost. So on a night he\nwent to play him by the water side, for he was somewhat weary of the\nship. And then he listened, and heard an horse come, and one riding\nupon him. And when he came nigh he seemed a knight. And so he let him\npass, and went there as the ship was, and there he alight, and took the\nsaddle and the bridle and put the horse from him, and went into the\nship. And then Launcelot dressed unto him and said, Ye be welcome. And\nhe answered and saluted him again, and asked him, What is your name?\nfor much my heart giveth unto you. Truly, said he, my name is Launcelot\ndu Lake. Sir, said he, then be ye welcome, for ye were the beginner of\nme in this world. Ah, said he, are ye Galahad? Yea forsooth, said he.\nAnd so he kneeled down and asked him his blessing, and after took off\nhis helm and kissed him. And there was great joy between them, for\nthere is no tongue can tell the joy that they made either of other, and\nmany a friendly word spoken between, as kind would, the which is no\nneed here to be rehearsed. And there every each told other of their\nadventures and marvels that were befallen to them in many journeys,\nsith that they departed from the court. Anon as Galahad saw the\ngentlewoman dead in the bed, he knew her well enough, and told great\nworship of her, and that she was the best maid living, and it was great\npity of her death. But when Launcelot heard how the marvellous sword\nwas gotten, and who made it, and all the marvels rehearsed afore, then\nhe prayed Galahad his son that he would shew him the sword, and so he\ndid. And anon he kissed the pommel, and the hilts, and the scabbard.\nTruly, said Launcelot, never erst knew I of so high adventures done,\nand so marvellous and strange. So dwelled Launcelot and Galahad within\nthat ship half a year, and served God daily and nightly with all their\npower. And often they arrived in isles far from folk, where there\nrepaired none but wild beasts; and there they found many strange\nadventures and perilous, which they brought to an end. But because the\nadventures were with wild beasts, and not in the quest of the\nSancgreal, therefore the tale maketh here no mention thereof, for it\nwould be too long to tell of all those adventures that befell them.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How a knight brought unto Sir Galahad an horse, and bad him come from\n his father Sir Launcelot._\n\nSo after, on a Monday, it befell that they arrived in the edge of a\nforest, tofore a cross, and then saw they a knight, armed all in white,\nand was richly horsed, and led in his right hand a white horse. And so\nhe came to the ship, and saluted the two knights on the high Lord\u2019s\nbehalf, and said, Galahad, sir, ye have been long enough with your\nfather, come out of the ship, and start upon this horse, and go where\nthe adventures shall lead thee in the quest of the Sancgreal. Then he\nwent to his father, and kissed him sweetly, and said, Fair sweet\nfather, I wot not when I shall see you more, till I see the body of\nJesu Christ. I pray you, said Launcelot, pray ye to the high Father\nthat He hold me in his service. And so he took his horse; and there\nthey heard a voice, that said, Think for to do well, for the one shall\nnever see the other before the dreadful day of doom. Now, son Galahad,\nsaid Launcelot, since we shall depart, and never see other, I pray to\nthe high Father to preserve both me and you both. Sir, said Galahad, no\nprayer availeth so much as yours. And therewith Galahad entered into\nthe forest. And the wind arose, and drove Launcelot more than a month\nthroughout the sea, where he slept but little, but prayed to God that\nhe might see some tidings of the Sancgreal. So it befell on a night, at\nmidnight he arrived afore a castle, on the back side, which was rich\nand fair. And there was a postern opened towards the sea, and was open\nwithout any keeping, save two lions kept the entry; and the moon shone\nclear. Anon Sir Launcelot heard a voice that said, Launcelot, go out of\nthis ship, and enter into the castle, where thou shalt see a great part\nof thy desire. Then he ran to his arms, and so armed him, and so he\nwent to the gate, and saw the lions. Then set he hand to his sword, and\ndrew it. Then there came a dwarf suddenly, and smote him on the arm so\nsore that the sword fell out of his hand. Then heard he a voice say, Oh\nman of evil faith and poor belief, wherefore trowest thou more on thy\nharness than in thy Maker? for He might more avail thee than thine\narmour, in whose service thou art set. Then said Launcelot, Fair Father\nJesu Christ, I thank thee of thy great mercy, that thou reprovest me of\nmy misdeed. Now see I well that ye hold me for your servant. Then took\nhe again his sword, and put it up in his sheath, and made a cross in\nhis forehead, and came to the lions, and they made semblant to do him\nharm. Notwithstanding he passed by them without hurt, and entered into\nthe castle to the chief fortress, and there were they all at rest. Then\nLauncelot entered in so armed, for he found no gate nor door but it was\nopen. And at the last he found a chamber whereof the door was shut, and\nhe set his hand thereto to have opened it, but he might not.\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot was tofore the door of the chamber wherein the holy\n Sancgreal was._\n\nThen he enforced him mickle to undo the door. Then he listened, and\nheard a voice which sang so sweetly that it seemed none earthly thing;\nand him thought the voice said, Joy and honour be to the Father of\nHeaven! Then Launcelot kneeled down tofore the chamber, for well wist\nhe that there was the Sancgreal within that chamber. Then said he, Fair\nsweet Father Jesu Christ, if ever I did thing that pleased the Lord,\nfor thy pity have me not in despite for my sins done aforetime, and\nthat thou shew me something of that I seek! And with that he saw the\nchamber door open, and there came out a great clearness, that the house\nwas as bright as all the torches of the world had been there. So came\nhe to the chamber door, and would have entered. And anon a voice said\nto him, Flee Launcelot, and enter not, for thou oughtest not to do it:\nand if thou enter thou shalt forthink it. Then he withdrew him aback\nright heavy. Then looked he up in the midst of the chamber, and saw a\ntable of silver, and the holy vessel covered with red samite, and many\nangels about it, whereof one held a candle of wax burning, and the\nother held a cross, and the ornaments of an altar. And before the holy\nvessel he saw a good man clothed as a priest, and it seemed that he was\nat the sacring of the mass. And it seemed to Launcelot that above the\npriest\u2019s hands there were three men, whereof the two put the youngest\nby likeness between the priest\u2019s hands, and so he lift it up right\nhigh, and it seemed to shew so to the people. And then Launcelot\nmarvelled not a little, for him thought that the priest was so greatly\ncharged of the figure, that him seemed that he should fall to the\nearth. And when he saw none about him that would help him, then came he\nto the door a great pace, and said, Fair Father Jesu Christ, ne take it\nfor no sin though I help the good man, which hath great need of help.\nRight so entered he into the chamber, and came toward the table of\nsilver; and when he came nigh he felt a breath that him thought it was\nintermeddled with fire, which smote him so sore in the visage that him\nthought it burnt his visage; and therewith he fell to the earth, and\nhad no power to arise, as he that was so araged that had lost the power\nof his body, and his hearing, and his saying. Then felt he many hands\nabout him, which took him up and bare him out of the chamber door,\nwithout any amending of his swoon, and left him there seeming dead to\nall people. So upon the morrow, when it was fair day, they within were\narisen, and found Launcelot lying afore the chamber door. All they\nmarvelled how that he came in. And so they looked upon him, and felt\nhis pulse, to wit whether there were any life in him; and so they found\nlife in him, but he might neither stand, nor stir no member that he\nhad; and so they took him by every part of the body, and bare him into\na chamber, and laid him in a rich bed, far from all folk, and so he lay\nfour days. Then the one said he was on live, and the other said nay. In\nthe name of God, said an old man, for I do you verily to wit he is not\ndead, but he is so full of life as the mightiest of you all, and\ntherefore I counsel you that he be well kept till God send him life\nagain.\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot had lain fourteen days and as many nights as a dead\n man, and other divers matters._\n\nIn such manner they kept Launcelot four and twenty days, and also many\nnights, that ever he lay still as a dead man; and at the twenty-fifth\nday befell him after midday that he opened his eyes. And when he saw\nfolk he made great sorrow and said, Why have ye awaked me? for I was\nmore at ease than I am now. Oh Jesu Christ, who might be so blessed\nthat might see openly thy great marvels of secretness there where no\nsinner may be. What have ye seen? said they about him. I have seen,\nsaid he, so great marvels that no tongue may tell, and more than any\nheart can think, and had not my son been here afore me I had seen much\nmore. Then they told him how he had lain there four and twenty days and\nnights. Then him thought it was punishment for the twenty-four years\nthat he had been a sinner, wherefore our Lord put him in penance four\nand twenty days and nights. Then looked Sir Launcelot before him, and\nsaw the hair which he had borne nigh a year, for that he forethought\nhim right much that he had broken his promise unto the hermit, which he\nhad avowed to do. Then they asked him how it stood with him. Forsooth,\nsaid he, I am whole of body, thanked be our Lord; therefore, sirs, for\nGod\u2019s love tell me where that I am? Then said they all that he was in\nthe castle of Carbonek. Therewith came a gentlewoman, and brought him a\nshirt of small linen cloth, but he changed not there, but took the hair\nto him again. Sir, said they, the quest of the Sancgreal is achieved\nright now in you, that never shall ye see of the Sancgreal no more than\nye have seen. Now I thank God, said Launcelot, of His great mercy, of\nthat I have seen, for it sufficeth me, for, as I suppose, no man in\nthis world hath lived better than I have done to achieve that I have\ndone. And therewith he took the hair, and clothed him in it, and above\nthat he put a linen shirt, and after a robe of scarlet, fresh and new.\nAnd when he was so arrayed, they marvelled all, for they knew him that\nhe was Launcelot, the good knight. And then they said all, O my lord\nSir Launcelot, be that ye? And he said, Truly I am he. Then came word\nto king Pelles, that the knight that had lain so long dead was Sir\nLauncelot; then was the king right glad, and went to see him. And when\nLauncelot saw him come, he dressed him against him, and there made the\nking great joy of him. And there the king told him tidings, that his\nfair daughter was dead. Then Launcelot was right heavy of it, and said,\nSir, me forthinketh the death of your daughter, for she was a full fair\nlady, fresh and young. And well I wot she bare the best knight that is\nnow on earth, or that ever was since God was born. So the king held him\nthere four days. And on the morrow he took his leave at king Pelles,\nand at all the fellowship that were there, and thanked them of the\ngreat labour. Right so as they sat at dinner in the chief hall, then\nwas it so befallen that the Sancgreal had fulfilled the tables with all\nmanner of meats that any heart might think. So as they sat, they saw\nall the doors and windows of the place were shut without man\u2019s hand,\nwhereof they were all abashed, and none wist what to do. And then it\nhapped suddenly a knight came to the chief door, and knocked, and\ncried, Undo the door; but they would not. And ever he cried, Undo, but\nthey would not. And at the last it annoyed them so much, that the king\nhimself arose, and came to a window where the knight called. Then he\nsaid, Sir knight, ye shall not enter at this time, while the Sancgreal\nis here, and therefore go into another. For certes ye be none of the\nknights of the quest, but one of them which hath served the fiend, and\nhast left the service of our Lord. And he was passing wroth at the\nking\u2019s words. Sir knight, said the king, sin ye would so fain enter,\nsay me of what country ye be? Sir, said he, I am of the realm of\nLogris, and my name is Ector de Maris, and brother unto my lord Sir\nLauncelot. Truly, said the king, me forthinketh of that I have said,\nfor your brother is here within. And when Ector de Maris understood\nthat his brother was there, for he was the man in the world that he\nmost dread and loved, and then he said, Alas, now doubleth my sorrow\nand shame, full truly said the good man of the hill unto Gawaine and to\nme of our dreams. Then went he out of the court as fast as his courser\nmight run, and so through out the castle.\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot returned towards Logris, and of other adventures\n which he saw in the way._\n\nThen king Pelles came to Sir Launcelot, and told him tidings of his\nbrother, whereof he was sorry that he wist not what to do. So Sir\nLauncelot departed, and took his armour, and said that he would go see\nthe realm of Logris\u2014which I have not seen in a twelvemonth. And\ntherewith commended the king to God, and so rode through many realms.\nAnd at the last he came to a white abbey, and there they made him that\nnight great cheer. And on the morn he arose and heard mass, and afore\nan altar he found a rich tomb which was newly made, and then he took\nheed, and saw the sides written with letters of gold, which said, Here\nlieth king Bagdemagus of Gore, the which king Arthur\u2019s nephew\nslew:\u2014and named him Sir Gawaine. Then was not he a little sorry, for\nLauncelot loved him much more than any other, and had it been any other\nthan Gawaine he should not have escaped from death to life:\u2014said to\nhimself, Alas, this is a great hurt to king Arthur\u2019s court, the loss of\nsuch a man. And then he departed, and came to the abbey where Galahad\ndid the adventure of the tombs, and wan the white shield with the red\ncross, and there had he great cheer all that night. And on the morn he\nturned unto Camelot, where he found king Arthur and the queen. But many\nof the knights of the Round Table were slain and destroyed, more than\nhalf. And so three were come home, Ector, Gawaine, and Lionel, and many\nother that need not to be rehearsed. And all the court was passing glad\nof Sir Launcelot; and the king asked him many tidings of his son\nGalahad. And there Launcelot told the king of his adventures that had\nbefallen him since he departed. And also he told him of the adventures\nof Galahad, Percivale, and Bors, which that he knew by the letter of\nthe dead damsel, and as Galahad had told him. Now, God would, said the\nking, that they were all three here. That shall never be, said\nLauncelot, for two of them shall ye never see, but one of them shall\ncome again.\n\nNow leave we this story, and speak we of Galahad.\n\n\n CHAP. XVIII.\n\n_How Galahad came to king Mordrains, and of other matters and\n adventures._\n\nNow saith the story that Galahad rode many journeys in vain. And at the\nlast he came to the abbey where king Mordrains was, and when he heard\nthat, he thought he would abide to see him. And upon the morn, when he\nhad heard mass, Galahad came unto king Mordrains, and anon the king saw\nhim, the which had lain blind of long time. And then he dressed him\nagainst him, and said, Galahad, the servant of Jesu Christ, whose\ncoming I have abiden so long, now embrace me, and let me rest on thy\nbreast, so that I may rest between thine arms, for thou art a clean\nvirgin above all knights, as the flower of the lily, in whom virginity\nis signified, and thou art the rose, the which is the flower of all\ngood virtue, and in colour of fire. For the fire of the Holy Ghost is\ntaken so in thee, that my flesh, which was all dead of oldness, is\nbecome young again. When Galahad heard his words, then he embraced him\nand all his body. Then said he, Fair Lord Jesu Christ, now I have my\nwill, now I require thee in this point that I am in, thou come and\nvisit me. And anon our Lord heard his prayer. Therewith the soul\ndeparted from the body. And then Galahad put him in the earth as a king\nought to be: and so departed, and came into a perilous forest, where he\nfound the well the which boiled with great waves, as the tale telleth\ntofore. And as soon as Galahad set his hand thereto it ceased, so that\nit burnt no more, and the heat departed: for that it burnt it was a\nsign of lust; but that heat might not abide his pure virginity. And\nthis was taken in the country for a miracle, and so ever after was it\ncalled Galahad\u2019s well. Then by adventure he came into the country of\nGore, and into the abbey where Sir Launcelot had been toforehand, and\nfound the tomb of king Bagdemagus (but was founder thereof Joseph of\nArmathie\u2019s son) and the tomb of Simeon where Launcelot had failed. Then\nhe looked into a croft under the minster, and there he saw a tomb which\nburnt full marvellously. Then asked he the brethren what it was? Sir,\nsaid they, a marvellous adventure that may not be brought unto none\nend, but by him that passeth of bounty and of knighthood all them of\nthe Round Table. I would, said Galahad, that ye would lead me thereto.\nGladly, said they: and so led him till a cave; and he went down upon\nsteps and came nigh the tomb, and then the flaming failed and the fire\nstaunched, the which many a day had been great. Then came there a voice\nthat said, Much are ye beholden to thank our Lord, the which hath given\nyou a good hour, that ye may draw out the souls of earthly pain, and to\nput them into the joys of paradise. I am of your kindred, the which\nhave dwelled in this heat this three hundred winter and four and fifty,\nto be purged of the sin that I did against Joseph of Armathie. Then\nGalahad took the body in his arms, and bear it into the minster. And\nthat night lay Galahad in the abbey: and on the morn he gave him\nservice, and put him in the earth, afore the high altar.\n\n\n CHAP. XIX.\n\n_How Sir Percivale and Sir Bors met with Sir Galahad, and how they came\n to the castle of Carbonek, and other matters._\n\nSo departed he from thence, and commended the brethren to God. And so\nhe rode five days till that he came to the maimed king, and ever\nfollowed Percivale the five days, asking where he had been, and so one\ntold him how the adventures of Logris were achieved. So on a day it\nbefell that they came out of a great forest, and there they met at\ntravers with Sir Bors, the which rode alone. It is no need to tell if\nthey were glad, and them he saluted, and they yielded him honour and\ngood adventure; and every each told other. Then said Bors, It is more\nthan a year and a half that I ne lay ten times where men dwelled, but\nin wild forests and in mountains, but God was ever my comfort.\n\nThen rode they a great while till that they came to the castle of\nCarbonek. And when they were entered within the castle king Pelles knew\nthem. Then there was great joy, for they wist well by their coming that\nthey had fulfilled the quest of the Sancgreal. Then Eliazar, king\nPelles\u2019 son, brought afore them the broken sword wherewith Joseph was\nstricken through the thigh. Then Bors set his hand thereto, if he might\nhave soldered it again, but it would not be. Then he took it to\nPercivale, but he had no more power thereto than he. Now have ye it\nagain, said Percivale to Galahad, for and it be ever achieved by one\nbodily man, ye must do it. And then took he the pieces and set them\ntogether, and they seemed that they had never been broken, and as well\nas it had been first forged. And when they within espied that the\nadventure of the sword was achieved, then they gave the sword to Bors,\nfor it might not be better set, for he was a good knight, and a worthy\nman. And a little afore even the sword arose great and marvellous, and\nwas full of great heat, that many men fell for dread. And anon alight a\nvoice among them, and said, They that ought not to sit at the table of\nJesu Christ arise, for now shall very knights be fed. So they went\nthence all save king Pelles and Eliazar his son, the which were holy\nmen, and a maid which was his niece. And so these three fellows and\nthey three were there; no more. Anon they saw knights all armed come in\nat the hall door, and did off their helms and their arms, and said unto\nGalahad, Sir, we have hied right much for to be with you at this table,\nwhere the holy meat shall be parted. Then said he, Ye be welcome: but\nof whence be ye? So three of them said they were of Gaul, and other\nthree said they were of Ireland, and the other three said they were of\nDenmark. So as they sat thus, there came out a bed of tree of a\nchamber, the which four gentlewomen brought, and in the bed lay a good\nman sick, and a crown of gold upon his head; and there in the midst of\nthe place they set him down, and went again their way. Then he lift up\nhis head and said, Galahad, knight, ye be welcome, for much have I\ndesired your coming, for in such pain and in such anguish I have been\nlong. But now I trust to God the term is come that my pain shall be\nallayed, that I shall pass out of this world, so as it was promised me\nlong ago. Therewith a voice said, There be two among you that be not in\nthe quest of the Sancgreal, and therefore depart ye.\n\n\n CHAP. XX.\n\n_How Galahad and his fellows were fed of the holy Sangreal, and how our\n Lord appeared to them, and other things._\n\nThen king Pelles and his son departed. And therewithal beseemed them\nthat there came a man and four angels from heaven, clothed in likeness\nof a bishop, and had a cross in his hand, and these four angels bare\nhim up in a chair, and set him down before the table of silver\nwhereupon the Sancgreal was, and it seemed that he had in midst of his\nforehead letters that said, See ye here Joseph the first bishop of\nChristendom, the same which our Lord succoured in the city of Sarras,\nin the spiritual place. Then the knights marvelled, for that bishop was\ndead more than three hundred year tofore. Oh knights, said he, marvel\nnot, for I was sometime an earthly man. With that they heard the\nchamber door open, and there they saw angels, and two bare candles of\nwax, and the third a towel, and the fourth a spear which bled\nmarvellously, that three drops fell within a box which he held with his\nother hand. And they set the candles upon the table, and the third the\ntowel upon the vessel, and the fourth the holy spear even upright upon\nthe vessel. And then the bishop made semblant as though he would have\ngone to the sacring of the mass. And then he took an ubbly, which was\nmade in likeness of bread; and at the lifting up there came a figure in\nlikeness of a child, and the visage was as red and as bright as any\nfire, and smote himself into the bread, so that they all saw it, that\nthe bread was formed of a fleshly man, and then he put it into the holy\nvessel again. And then he did that longed to a priest to do to a mass.\nAnd then he went to Galahad and kissed him, and bad him go and kiss his\nfellows, and so he did anon. Now, said he, servants of Jesu Christ, ye\nshall be fed afore this table with sweet meats, that never knights\ntasted. And when he had said, he vanished away; and they set them at\nthe table in great dread, and made their prayers. Then looked they, and\nsaw a man come out of the holy vessel, that had all the signs of the\npassion of Jesu Christ, bleeding all openly, and said, My knights and\nmy servants and my true children, which be come out of deadly life into\nspiritual life, I will now no longer hide me from you, but ye shall see\nnow a part of my secrets and of my hid things: now hold and receive the\nhigh meat which ye have so much desired. Then took he himself the holy\nvessel, and came to Galahad, and he kneeled down and there he received\nhis Saviour, and after him so received all his fellows; and they\nthought it so sweet that it was marvellous to tell. Then said he to\nGalahad, Son, wotest thou what I hold betwixt my hands? Nay, said he,\nbut if ye will tell me. This is, said he, the holy dish wherein I ate\nthe lamb on Sher-thursday. And now hast thou seen that thou most\ndesiredst to see, but yet hast thou not seen it so openly as thou shalt\nsee it in the city of Sarras, in the spiritual place. Therefore thou\nmust go hence, and bear with thee this holy vessel, for this night it\nshall depart from the realm of Logris, that it shall never be seen more\nhere, and wotest thou wherefore? for he is not served nor worshipped to\nhis right, by them of this land, for they be turned to evil living,\ntherefore I shall disherit them of the honour which I have done them.\nAnd therefore go ye three to-morrow unto the sea, where ye shall find\nyour ship ready, and with you take the sword with the strange girdles,\nand no more with you, but Sir Percivale and Sir Bors. Also I will that\nye take with you of the blood of this spear, for to anoint the maimed\nking, both his legs and all his body, and he shall have his health.\nSir, said Galahad, why shall not these other fellows go with us?\u2014For\nthis cause, for right as I departed mine apostles, one here and another\nthere, so I will that ye depart. And two of you shall die in my\nservice, but one of you shall come again, and tell tidings. Then gave\nhe them his blessing and vanished away.\n\n\n CHAP. XXI.\n\n_How Galahad anointed with the blood of the spear the maimed king, and\n other adventures._\n\nAnd Galahad went anon to the spear which lay upon the table, and\ntouched the blood with his fingers, and came after to the maimed king,\nand anointed his legs. And therewith he clothed him anon, and start\nupon his feet out of his bed as an whole man, and thanked our Lord that\nhe had healed him. And that was not to the world-ward, for anon he\nyield him to a place of religion of white monks, and was a full holy\nman. That same night, about midnight came a voice among them, which\nsaid, My sons and not my chieftains, my friends and not my warriors, go\nye hence, where ye hope best to do, and as I bad you.\u2014Ah, thanked be\nthou, Lord, that thou wilt vouchsafe to call us thy sinners. Now may we\nwell prove that we have not lost our pains.\n\nAnd anon in all haste they took their harness and departed. But the\nthree knights of Gaul, one of them hight Claudine, king Claudas\u2019 son,\nand the other two were great gentlemen. Then prayed Galahad to every\neach of them, that if they come to king Arthur\u2019s court, that they\nshould salute my lord Sir Launcelot my father, and of them of the Round\nTable, and prayed them if that they came on that part that they should\nnot forget it. Right so departed Galahad, Percivale, and Bors with him.\nAnd so they rode three days, and then they came to a rivage, and found\nthe ship whereof the tale speaketh of tofore. And when they came to the\nboard, they found in the midst the table of silver which they had left\nwith the maimed king, and the Sancgreal, which was covered with red\nsamite. Then were they glad to have such things in their fellowship,\nand so they entered, and made great reverence thereto, and Galahad fell\nin his prayer long time to our Lord, that, at what time he asked, that\nhe should pass out of this world: so much he prayed, till a voice said\nto him, Galahad, thou shalt have thy request, and when thou askest the\ndeath of thy body thou shalt have it, and then shalt thou find the life\nof the soul. Percivale heard this, and prayed him of fellowship that\nwas between them, to tell him wherefore he asked such things. That\nshall I tell you, said Galahad: the other day when we saw a part of the\nadventures of the Sancgreal, I was in such a joy of heart that I trow\nnever man was that was earthly, and therefore I wot well when my body\nis dead my soul shall be in great joy to see the blessed Trinity every\nday, and the majesty of our Lord Jesu Christ. So long were they in the\nship that they said to Galahad, Sir, in this bed ought ye to lie, for\nso saith the scripture. And so he laid him down and slept a great\nwhile. And when he awaked he looked afore him, and saw the city of\nSarras. And as they would have landed, they saw the ship wherein\nPercivale had put his sister in. Truly, said Percivale, in the name of\nGod, well hath my sister holden us covenant. Then took they out of the\nship the table of silver, and he took it to Percivale and to Bors to go\ntofore, and Galahad came behind, and right so they went to the city,\nand at the gate of the city they saw an old man crooked. Then Galahad\ncalled him, and bad him help to bear this heavy thing. Truly, said the\nold man, it is ten year ago that I might not go but with crutches. Care\nthou not, said Galahad, and arise up and shew thy good will. And so he\nassayed, and found himself as whole as ever he was. Then ran he to the\ntable, and took one part against Galahad. And anon arose there great\nnoise in the city, that a cripple was made whole by knights marvellous\nthat entered into the city. Then anon after, the three knights went to\nthe water, and brought up into the palace Percivale\u2019s sister, and\nburied her as richly as a king\u2019s daughter ought to be. And when the\nking of the city, which was cleped Estorause, saw the fellowship, he\nasked them of whence they were, and what thing it was that they had\nbrought upon the table of silver. And they told him the truth of the\nSancgreal, and the power which that God had set there. Then the king\nwas a tyrant, and was come of the line of paynims, and took them, and\nput them in prison in a deep hole.\n\n\n CHAP. XXII.\n\n_How they were fed with the Sangreal while they were in prison, and how\n Galahad was made king._\n\nBut as soon as they were there, our Lord sent them the Sancgreal,\nthrough whose grace they were alway fulfilled while that they were in\nprison. So at the year\u2019s end it befell that this king Estorause lay\nsick, and felt that he should die. Then he sent for the three knights,\nand they came afore him, and he cried them mercy of that he had done to\nthem, and they forgave it him goodly, and he died anon. When the king\nwas dead, all the city was dismayed, and wist not who might be their\nking. Right so as they were in counsel, there came a voice among them,\nand bad them choose the youngest knight of them three to be their king,\nfor he shall well maintain you and all yours. So they made Galahad king\nby all the assent of the whole city, and else they would have slain\nhim. And when he was come to behold the land, he let make about the\ntable of silver a chest of gold and of precious stones that covered the\nholy vessel, and every day early the three fellows would come afore it\nand make their prayers. Now at the year\u2019s end, and the self day after\nGalahad had borne the crown of gold, he arose up early, and his\nfellows, and came to the palace, and saw tofore them the holy vessel,\nand a man kneeling on his knees, in likeness of a bishop, that had\nabout him a great fellowship of angels, as it had been Jesu Christ\nhimself. And then he arose and began a mass of Our Lady. And when he\ncame to the sacrament of the mass, and had done, anon he called\nGalahad, and said to him, Come forth, the servant of Jesu Christ, and\nthou shalt see that thou hast much desired to see. And then he began to\ntremble right hard, when the deadly flesh began to behold the spiritual\nthings. Then he held up his hands toward heaven, and said, Lord, I\nthank thee, for now I see that that hath been my desire many a day.\nNow, blessed Lord, would I not longer live, if it might please thee\nLord. And therewith the good man took our Lord\u2019s body betwixt his\nhands, and proffered it to Galahad, and he received it right gladly and\nmeekly. Now, wotest thou what I am? said the good man. Nay, said\nGalahad.\u2014I am Joseph of Armathie, which our Lord hath sent here to\nthee to bear thee fellowship. And wotest thou wherefore that he hath\nsent me more than any other? For thou hast resembled me in two things,\nin that thou hast seen the marvels of the Sancgreal, and in that thou\nhast been a clean maiden, as I have been and am. And when he had said\nthese words, Galahad went to Percivale and kissed him, and commanded\nhim to God. And so he went to Sir Bors and kissed him, and commanded\nhim to God, and said, Fair lord, salute me to my lord Sir Launcelot, my\nfather, and as soon as ye see him bid him remember of this unstable\nworld. And therewith he kneeled down tofore the table and made his\nprayers, and then suddenly his soul departed to Jesu Christ, and a\ngreat multitude of angels bare his soul up to heaven, that the two\nfellows might well behold it. Also the two fellows saw come from heaven\nan hand, but they saw not the body; and then it came right to the\nvessel, and took it and the spear, and so bare it up to heaven. Sithen\nwas there never man so hardy to say that he had seen the Sancgreal.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIII.\n\n_Of the sorrow that Percivale and Bors made when Galahad was dead; and\n of Percivale how he died, and other matters._\n\nWhen Percivale and Bors saw Galahad dead, they made as much sorrow as\never did two men: and if they had not been good men they might lightly\nhave fallen in despair. And the people of the country and of the city\nwere right heavy. And then he was buried. And as soon as he was buried,\nSir Percivale yielded him to an hermitage out of the city, and took a\nreligious clothing; and Bors was alway with him, but never changed he\nhis secular clothing, for that he purposed him to go again into the\nrealm of Logris. Thus a year and two months lived Sir Percivale in the\nhermitage a full holy life, and then passed out of this world. And Bors\nlet bury him by his sister and by Galahad in the spiritualties. When\nBors saw that he was in so far countries as in the parts of Babylon, he\ndeparted from Sarras, and armed him, and came to the sea, and entered\ninto a ship, and so it befell him in good adventure he came into the\nrealm of Logris. And he rode so fast till he came to Camelot where the\nking was. And then was there great joy made of him in the court, for\nthey wend all he had been dead, forasmuch as he had been so long out of\nthe country. And when they had eaten, the king made great clerks to\ncome afore him, that they should chronicle of the high adventures of\nthe good knights. When Bors had told him of the adventures of the\nSancgreal, such as had befallen him and his three fellows, that was\nLauncelot, Percivale, Galahad and himself. There Launcelot told the\nadventures of the Sancgreal that he had seen. All this was made in\ngreat books, and put in almeries at Salisbury. And anon Sir Bors said\nto Sir Launcelot, Galahad your own son saluted you by me, and after you\nking Arthur, and all the court, and so did Sir Percivale: for I buried\nthem with mine own hands in the city of Sarras. Also, Sir Launcelot,\nGalahad prayeth you to remember of this uncertain world, as ye behight\nhim when ye were together more than half a year. This is true, said\nLauncelot; now I trust to God his prayer shall avail me. Then Launcelot\ntook Sir Bors in his arms, and said, Gentle cousin, ye are right\nwelcome to me, and all that ever I may do for you and for yours, ye\nshall find my poor body ready at all times whiles the spirit is in it,\nand that I promise you faithfully, and never to fail. And wit ye well,\ngentle cousin Sir Bors, that ye and I will never depart in sunder\nwhilst our lives may last. Sir, said he, I will as ye will.\n\nThus endeth thistory of the Sancgreal that was breuely drawen oute of\n Frensshe in to Englysshe, the whiche is a story cronycled for one of\n the truest and the holyest that is in thys world, the which is the\n xvii book.\n\n And here foloweth the eyghtenth book.\n\n\n\n\n The Eighteenth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_Of the joy of king Arthur and the queen had of the achievement of the\n Sangreal; and how Launcelot fell to his old love again._\n\nSo after the quest of the Sancgreal was fulfilled, and all knights that\nwere left on live were come again unto the Table Round, as the book of\nthe Sancgreal maketh mention, then was there great joy in the court,\nand in especial king Arthur and queen Guenever made great joy of the\nremnant that were come home, and passing glad was the king and the\nqueen of Sir Launcelot and of Sir Bors. For they had been passing long\naway in the quest of the Sancgreal. Then, as the book saith, Sir\nLauncelot began to resort unto queen Guenever again, and forgat the\npromise and the perfection that he made in the quest. For, as the book\nsaith, had not Sir Launcelot been in his privy thoughts and in his mind\nso set inwardly to the queen, as he was in seeming outward to God,\nthere had no knight passed him in the quest of the Sancgreal: but ever\nhis thoughts were privily on the queen, and so they loved together more\nhotter than they did toforehand, that many in the court spake of it,\nand in especial Sir Agravaine, Sir Gawaine\u2019s brother, for he was ever\nopen mouthed. So befell that Sir Launcelot had many resorts of ladies\nand damsels, that daily resorted unto him, that besought him to be\ntheir champion. And in all such matters of right Sir Launcelot appealed\nhim daily to do for the pleasure of our Lord Jesu Christ. And ever as\nmuch as he might he withdrew him from the company and fellowship of\nqueen Guenever, for to eschew the slander and noise: wherefore the\nqueen waxed wroth with Sir Launcelot, and upon a day she called Sir\nLauncelot unto her chamber, and said thus: Sir Launcelot, I see and\nfeel daily that thy love beginneth to slake, for thou hast no joy to be\nin my presence, but ever thou art out of this court, and quarrels and\nmatters thou hast now adays for ladies and gentlewomen, more than ever\nthou were wont to have aforehand. Ah, madam, said Launcelot, in this ye\nmust hold me excused for divers causes. One is, I was but late in the\nquest of the Sancgreal, and I thank God, of his great mercy, and never\nof my deserving, that I saw in that my quest as much as ever saw any\nsinful man, and so was it told me. And if I had not had my privy\nthoughts to return to your love again as I do, I had seen as great\nmysteries as ever saw my son Galahad, or Percivale, or Sir Bors, and\ntherefore, madam, I was but late in that quest. Wit ye well, madam, it\nmay not be yet lightly forgotten the high service in whom I did my\ndiligent labour. Also, madam, wit ye well that there be many men speak\nof our love in this court, and have you and me greatly in a wait, as\nSir Agravaine, and Sir Mordred: and, madam, wit ye well, I dread them\nmore for your sake than for any fear that I have of them myself, for I\nmay happen to escape and rid myself in a great need, where ye must\nabide all that will be said unto you. And then if that ye fall in any\ndistress through wilful folly, then is there none other remedy or help\nbut by me and my blood. And wit ye well, madam, the boldness of you and\nme will bring us to great shame and slander, and that were me loth to\nsee you dishonoured. And that is the cause that I take upon me more for\nto do for damsels and maidens than ever I did tofore, that men should\nunderstand my joy and my delight is my pleasure to have ado for damsels\nand maidens.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How the queen commanded Sir Launcelot to avoid the court, and of the\n sorrow that Launcelot made._\n\nAll this while the queen stood still, and let Sir Launcelot say what he\nwould. And when he had all said, she brast out on weeping, and so she\nsobbed and wept a great while: and when she might speak, she said,\nLauncelot, now I well understand that thou art a false recreant knight,\nand lovest and holdest other ladies, and by me thou hast disdain and\nscorn. For wit thou well, she said, now I understand thy falsehood, and\ntherefore shall I never love thee no more, and never be thou so hardy\nto come in my sight; and right here I discharge thee this court, that\nthou never come within it, and I forfend thee my fellowship, and upon\npain of thy head that thou see me no more. Right so Sir Launcelot\ndeparted with great heaviness, that hardly he might sustain himself for\ngreat dole making. Then he called Sir Bors, Sir Ector de Maris, and Sir\nLionel, and told them how the queen had forfend him the court, and so\nhe was in will to depart into his own country. Fair sir, said Sir Bors\nde Ganis, ye shall not depart out of this land by mine advice; ye must\nremember in what honour ye are renowned, and called the noblest knight\nof the world, and many great matters ye have in hand, and women in\ntheir hastiness will do oftimes that sore repenteth them, and therefore\nby mine advice ye shall take your horse, and ride to the good hermitage\nhere beside Windsor, that sometime was a good knight, his name is Sir\nBrasias, and there shall ye abide till I send you word of better\ntidings. Brother, said Sir Launcelot, wit ye well I am full loth to\ndepart out of this realm, but the queen hath defended me so highly that\nme seemeth she will never be my good lady as she hath been. Say ye\nnever so, said Sir Bors, for many times or this time she hath been\nwroth with you, and after it she was the first that repented it. Ye say\nwell, said Launcelot, for now will I do by your counsel, and take mine\nhorse and my harness, and ride to the hermit Sir Brasias, and there\nwill I repose me until I hear some manner of tidings from you. But,\nfair brother, I pray you get me the love of my lady queen Guenever, and\nye may. Sir, said Sir Bors, ye need not to move me of such matters, for\nwell ye wot I will do what I may to please you. And then the noble\nknight Sir Launcelot departed with right heavy cheer, suddenly, that\nnone earthly creature wist of him, nor where he was become, but Sir\nBors. So when Sir Launcelot was departed, the queen made no manner of\nsorrow in shewing, to none of his blood, nor to none other: but, wit ye\nwell, inwardly, as the book saith, she took great thought, but she bare\nit out with a proud countenance, as though she felt nothing nor danger.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How at a dinner that the queen made there was a knight poisoned, which\n Sir Mador laid on the queen._\n\nAnd then the queen let make a privy dinner in London unto the knights\nof the Round Table. And all was for to show outward that she had as\ngreat joy in all other knights of the Table Round as she had in Sir\nLauncelot. All only at that dinner she had Sir Gawaine and his\nbrethren, that is to say, Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, Sir Gareth, and\nSir Mordred. Also there was Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Blamor de Ganis, Sir\nBleoberis de Ganis, Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir\nLionel, Sir Palamides, Sir Safere his brother, Sir La Cote Male Taile,\nSir Persant, Sir Ironside, Sir Brandiles, Sir Kay le Seneschal, Sir\nMador de la Porte, Sir Patrise, a knight of Ireland, Aliduk, Sir\nAstomore, and Sir Pinel le Savage, the which was cousin to Sir Lamorak\nde Galis, the good knight that Sir Gawaine and his brethren slew by\ntreason. And so these four and twenty knights should dine with the\nqueen in a privy place by themselves, and there was made a great feast\nof all manner of dainties. But Sir Gawaine had a custom that he used\ndaily at dinner and at supper, that he loved well all manner of fruit,\nand in especial apples and pears. And therefore, whosoever dined or\nfeasted Sir Gawaine would commonly purvey for good fruit for him; and\nso did the queen for to please Sir Gawaine, she let purvey for him of\nall manner of fruit, for Sir Gawaine was a passing hot knight of\nnature. And this Pinel hated Sir Gawaine because of his kinsman Sir\nLamorak de Galis, and therefore for pure envy and hate Sir Pinel\nenpoisoned certain apples, for to enpoison Sir Gawaine. And so this was\nwell unto the end of the meat: and so it befell by misfortune a good\nknight named Patrise, cousin unto Sir Mador de la Porte, to take a\npoisoned apple. And when he had eaten it he swelled so till he brast,\nand there Sir Patrise fell down suddenly dead among them. Then every\nknight lept from the board ashamed and araged for wrath, nigh out of\ntheir wits. For they wist not what to say: considering queen Guenever\nmade the feast and dinner, they all had suspicion unto her. My lady,\nthe queen, said Gawaine, wit ye well, madam, that this dinner was made\nfor me: for all folks that know my conditions understand that I love\nwell fruit, and now I see well I had near been slain; therefore, madam,\nI dread lest ye will be shamed. Then the queen stood still, and was\nsore abashed, that he nist not what to say. This shall not so be ended,\nsaid Sir Mador de la Porte, for here have I lost a full noble knight of\nmy blood, and therefore upon this shame and despite I will be revenged\nto the utterance. And there openly Sir Mador appealed the queen of the\ndeath of his cousin Sir Patrise. Then stood they all still, that none\nof them would speak a word against him. For they had a great suspicion\nunto the queen because she let make that dinner. And the queen was so\nabashed that she could none other ways do but wept so heartily that she\nfell in a swoon. With this noise and cry came to them king Arthur. And\nwhen he wist of that trouble, he was a passing heavy man.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How Sir Mador appeached the queen of treason, and there was no knight\n would fight for her at the first time._\n\nAnd ever Sir Mador stood still afore the king, and ever he appealed the\nqueen of treason: for the custom was such that time that all manner of\nshameful death was called treason. Fair lords, said king Arthur, me\nrepenteth of this trouble, but the case is so I may not have ado in\nthis matter, for I must be a rightful judge, and that repenteth me that\nI may not do battle for my wife: for, as I deem, this deed came never\nby her, and therefore I suppose she shall not be all distained, but\nthat some good knight shall put his body in jeopardy, rather than she\nshall be burnt in a wrong quarrel. And therefore, Sir Mador, be not so\nhasty, for it may happen she shall not be all friendless, and therefore\ndesire thou thy day of battle, and she shall purvey her of some good\nknight that shall answer you, or else it were to me great shame, and to\nall my court. My gracious lord, said Sir Mador, ye must hold me\nexcused, for though ye be our king in that degree, ye are but a knight\nas we are, and ye are sworn unto knighthood as well as we, and\ntherefore I beseech you that ye be not displeased. For there is none of\nthe four and twenty knights that were bidden to this dinner but all\nthey have great suspicion unto the queen. What say ye all, my lords?\nsaid Sir Mador. Then they answered by and by that they could not excuse\nthe queen, for why she made the dinner, and either it must come by her\nor by her servants. Alas, said the queen, I made this dinner for a good\nintent, and never for none evil; so Almighty God help me in my right as\nI was never purposed to do such evil deeds, and that I report me unto\nGod. My lord the king, said Sir Mador, I require you, as ye be a\nrighteous king, give me a day that I may have justice. Well, said the\nking, I give the day this day fifteen days, that thou be ready armed on\nhorseback in the meadow beside Westminster. And if it so fall that\nthere be any knight to encounter with you, there mayest thou do the\nbest, and God speed the right. And if it so fall that there be no\nknight at that day, then must my queen be burnt, and there shall she be\nready to have her judgment. I am answered, said Sir Mador; and every\nknight went where it liked him. So when the king and the queen were\ntogether, the king asked the queen how this case befell? The queen\nanswered, So God me help I wot not how, nor in what manner. Where is\nSir Launcelot? said king Arthur, and he were here, he would not grudge\nto do battle for you. Sir, said the queen, I wot not where he is, but\nhis brother and his kinsmen deem that he is not within this realm. That\nme repenteth, said king Arthur, for and he were here he would soon\nstint this strife. Then I will counsel you, said the king, and unto Sir\nBors\u2014That ye will do battle for her for Sir Launcelot\u2019s sake,\u2014and\nupon my life he will not refuse you. For well I see, said the king,\nthat none of these four and twenty knights that were with you at your\ndinner, where Sir Patrise was slain, will do battle for you, nor none\nof them will say well of you, and that shall be great slander for you\nin this court. Alas, said the queen, and I may not do withal, but now I\nmiss Sir Launcelot, for and he were here he would put me soon to my\nheart\u2019s ease. What aileth you, said the king, ye cannot keep Sir\nLauncelot on your side? For, wit ye well, said the king, who that hath\nSir Launcelot upon his party hath the most man of worship in the world\nupon his side. Now go your way, said the king unto the queen, and\nrequire Sir Bors to do battle for you for Sir Launcelot\u2019s sake.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How the queen required Sir Bors to fight for her, and how he granted\n upon condition; and how he warned Sir Launcelot thereof._\n\nSo the queen departed from the king, and sent for Sir Bors into her\nchamber. And when he was come, she besought him of succour. Madam, said\nhe, what would ye that I did, for I may not with my worship have ado in\nthis matter, because I was at the same dinner, for dread that any of\nthose knights would have me in suspicion. Also madam, said Sir Bors,\nnow miss ye Sir Launcelot, for he would not have failed you neither in\nright nor in wrong, as ye have well proved when ye have been in danger,\nand now ye have driven him out of this country, by whom ye and all we\nwere daily worshipped by. Therefore, madam, I marvel me how ye dare for\nshame require me to do any thing for you, in so much ye have chased him\nout of your country, by whom we were borne up and honoured. Alas, fair\nknight, said the queen, I put me wholly in your grace, and all that is\ndone amiss I will amend as ye will counsel me. And therewith she\nkneeled down upon both her knees, and besought Sir Bors to have mercy\nupon her,\u2014or I shall have a shameful death, and thereto I never\noffended. Right so came king Arthur, and found the queen kneeling afore\nSir Bors. Then Sir Bors pulled her up, and said, Madam, ye do to me\ngreat dishonour. Ah, gentle knight, said the king, have mercy upon my\nqueen, courteous knight, for I am now in certain she is untruly\ndefamed. And therefore, courteous knight, said the king, promise her to\ndo battle for her: I require you, for the love of Sir Launcelot. My\nlord, said Sir Bors, ye require me the greatest thing that any man may\nrequire me; and wit ye well, if I grant to do battle for the queen I\nshall wrath many of my fellowship of the Table Round; but as for that,\nsaid Bors, I will grant my lord, for my lord Sir Launcelot\u2019s sake, and\nfor your sake, I will at that day be the queen\u2019s champion, unless that\nthere come by adventure a better knight than I am to do battle for her.\nWill ye promise me this, said the king, by your faith? Yea sir, said\nSir Bors, of that will I not fail you, nor her both, but if that there\ncome a better knight than I am, and then shall he have the battle. Then\nwas the king and the queen passing glad, and so departed, and thanked\nhim heartily. So then Sir Bors departed secretly upon a day, and rode\nunto Sir Launcelot, there as he was with the hermit Sir Brasias, and\ntold him of all their adventure. Ah, said Sir Launcelot, this is come\nhappily as I would have it, and therefore I pray you make you ready to\ndo battle, but look that ye tarry till ye see me come, as long as ye\nmay. For I am sure Mador is an hot knight, when he is enchafed, for the\nmore ye suffer him, the hastier will he be to battle. Sir, said Bors,\nlet me deal with him; doubt ye not ye shall have all your will. Then\ndeparted Sir Bors from him, and came to the court again. Then was it\nnoised in all the court that Sir Bors should do battle for the queen:\nwherefore many knights were displeased with him, that he would take\nupon him to do battle in the queen\u2019s quarrel, for there were but few\nknights in the court but they deemed the queen was in the wrong, and\nthat she had done that treason. So Sir Bors answered thus unto his\nfellows of the Table Round: Wit ye well, my fair lords, it were shame\nto us all, and we suffered to see the most noble queen of the world to\nbe shamed openly, considering her lord and our lord is the man of most\nworship in the world, and most christened, and he hath ever worshipped\nus all, in all places. Many answered him again:\u2014As for our most noble\nking Arthur, we love him and honour him as well as ye do; but as for\nqueen Guenever we love her not, because she is a destroyer of good\nknights. Fair lords, said Sir Bors, me seemeth ye say not as ye should\nsay, for never yet in my days knew I never, nor heard say, that ever\nshe was a destroyer of any good knight: but at all times, as far as I\never could know, she was always a maintainer of good knights, and\nalways she hath been large and free of her goods to all good knights,\nand the most bounteous lady of her gifts and her good grace that ever I\nsaw or heard speak of. And therefore it were shame, said Sir Bors, to\nus all to our most noble king\u2019s wife, and we suffered her to be\nshamefully slain. And wit ye well, said Sir Bors, I will not suffer it,\nfor I dare say so much, the queen is not guilty of Sir Patrise\u2019s death,\nfor she owed him never none ill will, nor none of the four and twenty\nknights that were at that dinner; for I dare say for good love she bad\nus to dinner, and not for no mal-engine; and that I doubt not shall be\nproved hereafter: for howsoever the game goeth, there was treason among\nus. Then some said to Sir Bors, We may well believe your words. And so\nsome of them were well pleased, and some were not so.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How at the day Sir Bors made him ready for to fight for the queen; and\n when he should fight how another discharged him._\n\nThe day came on fast until the even that the battle should be. Then the\nqueen sent for Sir Bors, and asked him how he was disposed. Truly\nmadam, said he, I am disposed in likewise as I promised you; that is\nfor to say, I shall not fail you, unless by adventure there come a\nbetter knight than I am, to do the battle for you: then, madam, am I\ndischarged of my promise. Will ye, said the queen, that I tell my lord\nArthur thus? Do as it shall please you, madam. Then the queen went unto\nthe king, and told him the answer of Sir Bors. Have ye no doubt, said\nthe king, of Sir Bors, for I call him now one of the best knights of\nthe world, and the most profitablest man. And thus it past on until the\nmorn. And the king and the queen, and all manner of knights that were\nthere at that time, drew them unto the meadow beside Westminster, where\nthe battle should be. And so when the king was come with the queen, and\nmany knights of the Round Table, then the queen was put there in the\nconstable\u2019s ward, and a great fire made about an iron stake, that, and\nSir Mador de la Porte had the better, she should be burnt. Such custom\nwas used in those days, that neither for favour, neither for love, nor\naffinity, there should be none other but righteous judgment, as well\nupon a king as upon a knight, and as well upon a queen as upon another\npoor lady. So in this meanwhile came in Sir Mador de la Porte, and took\nhis oath afore the king, That the queen did this treason until his\ncousin Sir Patrise, and unto his oath he would prove it with his body,\nhand for hand, who that would say the contrary. Right so came in Sir\nBors de Ganis, and said, that as for queen Guenever, she is in the\nright, and that will I make good with my hands, that she is not\nculpable of this treason that is put upon her. Then make thee ready,\nsaid Sir Mador, and we shall prove whether thou be in the right or I.\nSir Mador, said Sir Bors, wit thou well I know you for a good knight:\nnot for then I shall not fear so greatly, but I trust to God I shall be\nable to withstand your malice: but thus much have I promised my lord\nArthur, and my lady the queen, that I shall do battle for her in this\ncase to the uttermost, unless that there come a better knight than I\nam, and discharge me. Is that all, said Sir Mador, either come thou off\nand do battle with me, or else say nay. Take your horse, said Sir Bors,\nand, as I suppose, ye shall not tarry long, but ye shall be answered.\nThen either departed to their tents, and made them ready to horseback\nas they thought best. And anon Sir Mador came into the field with his\nshield on his shoulder, and his spear in his hand. And so rode about\nthe place, crying unto king Arthur, Bid your champion come forth and he\ndare! Then was Sir Bors ashamed, and took his horse and came to the\nlists\u2019 end. And then was he ware where came from a wood there fast by a\nknight, all armed upon a white horse, with a strange shield of strange\narms, and he came riding all that he might run. And so he came to Sir\nBors, and said, Fair knight, I pray you be not displeased, for here\nmust a better knight than ye are have this battle; therefore I pray you\nwithdraw you. For wit ye well I have had this day a right great\njourney, and this battle ought to be mine, and so I promised you when I\nspake with you last, and with all my heart I thank you of your good\nwill. Then Sir Bors rode unto king Arthur, and told him how there was a\nknight come that would have the battle for to fight for the queen. What\nknight is he? said the king. I wot not, said Sir Bors, but such\ncovenant he made with me to be here this day. Now my lord, said Sir\nBors, here am I discharged.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot fought against Sir Mador for the queen, and how he\n overcame Sir Mador and discharged the queen._\n\nThen the king called to that knight, and asked him if he would fight\nfor the queen. Then he answered to the king, Therefore came I hither,\nand therefore, Sir king, he said, tarry me no longer, for I may not\ntarry. For anon as I have finished this battle I must depart hence, for\nI have ado many matters elsewhere. For wit you well, said that knight,\nthis is dishonour to you all knights of the Round Table, to see and\nknow so noble a lady, and so courteous a queen, as queen Guenever is,\nthus to be rebuked and shamed amongst you. Then they all marvelled what\nknight that might be that so took the battle upon him, for there was\nnot one that knew him, but if it were Sir Bors. Then said Sir Mador de\nla Porte unto the king, Now let me wit with whom I shall have ado\nwithal. And then they rode to the lists\u2019 end, and there they couched\ntheir spears, and ran together with all their mights. And Sir Mador\u2019s\nspear brake all to pieces, but the other\u2019s spear held, and bare Sir\nMador\u2019s horse and all backward to the earth a great fall. But mightily\nand suddenly he avoided his horse, and put his shield afore him, and\nthen drew his sword, and bad the other knight alight and do battle with\nhim on foot. Then that knight descended from his horse lightly like a\nvaliant man, and put his shield afore him, and drew his sword, and so\nthey came eagerly unto battle, and either gave other many great\nstrokes, tracing and traversing, rasing and foining, and hurtling\ntogether with their swords, as it were wild boars. Thus were they\nfighting nigh an hour, for this Sir Mador was a strong knight, and\nmightily proved in many strong battles. But at last this knight smote\nSir Mador groveling upon the earth, and the knight stept near him to\nhave pulled Sir Mador flatling upon the ground; and therewith suddenly\nSir Mador arose, and in his rising he smote that knight through the\nthick of the thighs, that the blood ran out fiercely. And when he felt\nhimself so wounded, and saw his blood, he let him arise upon his feet;\nand then he gave him such a buffet upon the helm that he fell to the\nearth flatling, and therewith he strode to him for to have pulled off\nhis helm off his head. And then Sir Mador prayed that knight to save\nhis life, and so he yielded him as overcome, and released the queen of\nhis quarrel. I will not grant thee thy life, said that knight, only\nthat thou freely release the queen for ever, and that no mention be\nmade upon Sir Patrise\u2019s tomb that ever queen Guenever consented to that\ntreason. All this shall be done, said Sir Mador, I clearly discharge my\nquarrel for ever. Then the knights parters of the lists took up Sir\nMador and led him to his tent. And the other knight went straight to\nthe stair foot where sat king Arthur, and by that time was the queen\ncome to the king, and either kissed other heartily. And when the king\nsaw that knight, he stooped down to him and thanked him, and in\nlikewise did the queen: and the king prayed him to put off his helmet,\nand to repose him, and to take a sop of wine, and then he put off his\nhelm to drink, and then every knight knew him that it was Sir Launcelot\ndu Lake. Anon as the king wist that, he took the queen in his hand, and\nwent unto Sir Launcelot, and said, Sir, grant mercy of your great\ntravail that ye have had this day for me and for my queen. My lord,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, wit ye well I ought of right ever to be in your\nquarrel, and in my lady the queen\u2019s quarrel to do battle, for ye are\nthe man that gave me the high honour of knighthood, and that day my\nlady your queen did me great worship, and else I had been shamed; for\nthat same day ye made me knight through my hastiness I lost my sword,\nand my lady your queen found it, and lapped it in her train, and gave\nme my sword when I had need thereto, and else had I been shamed among\nall knights. And therefore, my lord Arthur, I promised her at that day\never to be her knight in right or in wrong. Grant mercy, said king\nArthur, for this journey, and wit ye well, said the king, I shall\nacquit your goodness. And ever the queen beheld Sir Launcelot, and wept\nso tenderly that she sank almost to the ground for sorrow that he had\ndone to her so great goodness, where she shewed him great unkindness.\nThen the knights of his blood drew unto him, and there either of them\nmade great joy of other. And so came all the knights of the Table Round\nthat were there at that time, and welcomed him. And then Sir Mador was\nhad to leech-craft, and Sir Launcelot was healed of his wound. And then\nthere was made great joy and mirths in that court.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How the truth was known by the maiden of the lake, and of divers other\n matters._\n\nAnd so it befell that the damsel of the lake, her name was Nimue, the\nwhich wedded the good knight Sir Pelleas, and so she came to the court,\nfor ever she did great goodness unto king Arthur, and to all his\nknights, through her sorcery and enchantments. And so when she heard\nhow the queen was an angered for the death of Sir Patrise, then she\ntold it openly that she was never guilty, and there she disclosed by\nwhom it was done, and named him Sir Pinel, and for what cause he did\nit. There it was openly disclosed, and so the queen was excused, and\nthe knight Pinel fled into his country. Then was it openly known that\nSir Pinel enpoisoned the apples at the feast, to that intent to have\ndestroyed Sir Gawaine, because Sir Gawaine and his brethren destroyed\nSir Lamorak de Galis, to the which Sir Pinel was cousin unto. Then was\nSir Patrise buried in the church of Westminster, in a tomb, and\nthereupon was written, Here lieth Sir Patrise of Ireland, slain by Sir\nPinel le Savage, that enpoisoned apples to have slain Sir Gawaine, and\nby misfortune Sir Patrise eat one of those apples, and then suddenly he\nbrast. Also there was written upon the tomb, that queen Guenever was\nappealed of treason of the death of Sir Patrise by Sir Mador de la\nPorte, and there was made mention how Sir Launcelot fought with him for\nqueen Guenever, and overcame him in plain battle. All this was written\nupon the tomb of Sir Patrise, in excusing of the queen. And then Sir\nMador sued daily and long to have the queen\u2019s good grace. And so by the\nmeans of Sir Launcelot he caused him to stand in the queen\u2019s grace, and\nall was forgiven. Thus it passed forth till our Lady day, Assumption.\nWithin a fifteen days of that feast the king let cry a great justs and\na tournament that should be at that day at Camelot, that is Winchester.\nAnd the king let cry that he and the king of Scots would just against\nall that would come against them. And when this cry was made, thither\ncame many knights. So there came thither the king of Northgalis, and\nking Anguish of Ireland, and the king with the hundred knights, and Sir\nGalahalt the haut prince, and the king of Northumberland, and many\nother noble dukes and earls of divers countries. So king Arthur made\nhim ready to depart to these justs, and would have had the queen with\nhim: but at that time she would not, she said, for she was sick and\nmight not ride at that time. That me repenteth, said the king, for this\nseven year ye saw not such a fellowship together, except at Whitsuntide\nwhen Galahad departed from the court. Truly, said the queen to the\nking, ye must hold me excused. I may not be there, and that me\nrepenteth. And many deemed the queen would not be there because of Sir\nLauncelot du Lake, for Sir Launcelot would not ride with the king; for\nhe said that he was not whole of the wound the which Sir Mador had\ngiven him. Wherefore the king was heavy and passing wroth, and so he\ndeparted towards Winchester with his fellowship. And so by the way the\nking lodged in a town called Astolat, that is now in English called\nGilford, and there the king lay in the castle. So when the king was\ndeparted, the queen called Sir Launcelot unto her, and said, Sir\nLauncelot ye are greatly to blame, thus to hold you behind my lord:\nwhat trow ye, what will your enemies and mine say and deem? nought else\nbut see how Sir Launcelot holdeth him ever behind the king, and so doth\nthe queen, for that they would be together; and thus will they say,\nsaid the queen to Sir Launcelot, have ye no doubt thereof.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot rode to Astolat, and received a sleeve to bear upon\n his helm at the request of a maid._\n\nMadam, said Sir Launcelot, I allow your wit, it is of late come sin ye\nwere wise, and therefore, madam, as at this time I will be ruled by\nyour counsel, and this night I will take my rest, and to-morrow by time\nwill take my way toward Winchester. But wit you well, said Sir\nLauncelot to the queen, that at that justs I will be against the king\nand all his fellowship. Ye may there do as ye list, said the queen, but\nby my counsel ye shall not be against your king and your fellowship,\nfor therein be full many hardy knights of your blood, as ye wot well\nenough, it needeth not to rehearse them. Madam, said Sir Launcelot, I\npray you that ye be not displeased with me, for I will take the\nadventure that God will send me. And so upon the morn early Sir\nLauncelot heard mass, and brake his fast, and so took his leave of the\nqueen, and departed. And then he rode so much until he came to Astolat,\nthat is Gilford; and there it happed him in the eventide he came to an\nold baron\u2019s place, that hight Sir Bernard of Astolat. And as Sir\nLauncelot entered into his lodging, king Arthur espied him as he did\nwalk in a garden beside the castle, how he took his lodging, and knew\nhim full well. It is well, said king Arthur unto the knights that were\nwith him in that garden beside the castle, I have now espied one knight\nthat will play his play at the justs to the which we be gone toward, I\nundertake he will do marvels. Who is that, we pray you tell us, said\nmany knights that were there at that time. Ye shall not wit for me,\nsaid the king, at this time. And so the king smiled, and went to his\nlodging. So when Sir Launcelot was in his lodging, and unarmed him in\nhis chamber, the old baron and hermit came unto him, making his\nreverence, and welcomed him in the best manner; but the old knight knew\nnot Sir Launcelot. Fair sir, said Sir Launcelot to his host, I would\npray you to lend me a shield that were not openly known, for mine is\nwell known. Sir, said his host, ye shall have your desire, for me\nseemeth ye be one of the likeliest knights of the world, and therefore\nI shall shew you friendship. Sir, wit you well I have two sons which\nwere but late made knights, and the eldest hight Sir Tirre, and he was\nhurt that same day that he was made knight, that he may not ride, and\nhis shield ye shall have, for that is not known, I dare say, but here\nand in no place else. And my youngest son hight Sir Lavaine, and if it\nplease you he shall ride with you unto that justs, and he is of his age\nstrong and wight. For much my heart giveth unto you that ye should be a\nnoble knight, therefore, I pray you tell me your name, said Sir\nBernard. As for that, said Sir Launcelot, ye must hold me excused as at\nthis time, and if God give me grace to speed well at the justs I shall\ncome again and tell you. But I pray you, said Sir Launcelot, in any\nwise let me have your son Sir Lavaine with me, and that I may have his\nbrother\u2019s shield. Also this shall be done, said Sir Bernard.\n\nThis old baron had a daughter that time that was called that time the\nfair maid of Astolat. And ever she beheld Sir Launcelot wonderfully.\nAnd, as the book saith, she cast such a love unto Sir Launcelot that\nshe could never withdraw her love, wherefore she died; and her name was\nElaine le Blank. So thus as she came to and fro, she was so hot in her\nlove that she besought Sir Launcelot to wear upon him at the justs a\ntoken of hers. Fair damsel, said Sir Launcelot, and if I grant you\nthat, ye may say I do more for your love than ever I did for lady or\ndamsel. Then he remembered him that he would go to the justs disguised,\nand for because he had never afore that time borne no manner of token\nof no damsel, then he bethought him that he would bear one of her, that\nnone of his blood thereby might know him. And then he said, Fair\nmaiden, I will grant you to wear a token of yours upon my helmet, and\ntherefore what it is shew it me. Sir, she said, it is a red sleeve of\nmine, of scarlet well embroidered with great pearls. And so she brought\nit him. So Sir Launcelot received it and said, Never did I erst so much\nfor no damsel. And then Sir Launcelot betook the fair maiden his shield\nin keeping, and prayed her to keep that until that he came again. And\nso that night he had merry rest and great cheer. For ever the damsel\nElaine was about Sir Launcelot, all the while she might be suffered.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How the tourney began at Winchester, and what knights were at the\n justs, and other things._\n\nSo upon a day on the morn, king Arthur and all his knights departed;\nfor their king had tarried there three days to abide his noble knights.\nAnd so when the king was riden, Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine made them\nready for to ride, and either of them had white shields, and the red\nsleeve Sir Launcelot let carry with him. And so they took their leave\nat Sir Bernard the old baron, and at his daughter the fair maiden of\nAstolat. And then they rode so long till they came to Camelot, that\ntime called Winchester. And there was great press of kings, dukes,\nearls, and barons, and many noble knights. But there Sir Launcelot was\nlodged privily, by the means of Sir Lavaine, with a rich burgess, that\nno man in that town was ware what they were. And so they sojourned\nthere till our Lady day, Assumption, as the great feast should be. So\nthen trumpets blew unto the field, and king Arthur was set on high upon\na scaffold, to behold who did best. But, as the French book saith, king\nArthur would not suffer Sir Gawaine to go from him, for never had Sir\nGawaine the better and Sir Launcelot were in the field; and many times\nwas Sir Gawaine rebuked when Launcelot came into any justs disguised.\nThen some of the kings, as king Anguish of Ireland and the king of\nScotland, were that time turned upon the side of king Arthur. And then\non the other party was the king of Northgalis, and the king with the\nhundred knights, and the king of Northumberland, and Sir Galahalt the\nhaut prince. But these three kings and this duke were passing weak to\nhold against king Arthur\u2019s party: for with him were the noblest knights\nof the world. So then they withdrew them either party from other, and\nevery man made him ready in his best manner to do what he might. Then\nSir Launcelot made him ready, and put the red sleeve upon his head, and\nfastened it fast; and so Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine departed out of\nWinchester privily, and rode until a little leaved wood, behind the\nparty that held against king Arthur\u2019s party, and there they held them\nstill till the parties smote together. And then came in the king of\nScots and the king of Ireland on Arthur\u2019s party: and against them came\nthe king of Northumberland; and the king with the hundred knights smote\ndown the king of Northumberland, and the king with the hundred knights\nsmote down king Anguish of Ireland. Then Sir Palamides, that was on\nArthur\u2019s party, encountered with Sir Galahalt, and either of them smote\ndown other, and either party halp their lords on horseback again. So\nthere began a strong assail upon both parties. And then there came in\nSir Brandiles, Sir Sagramor le Desirous, Sir Dodinas le Savage, Sir Kay\nle Seneschal, Sir Griflet le Fise de Dieu, Sir Mordred, Sir Meliot de\nLogris, Sir Ozanna le Cure Hardy, Sir Safere, Sir Epinogris, and Sir\nGalleron of Galway. All these fifteen knights were knights of the Table\nRound. So these with more others came in together, and beat on back the\nking of Northumberland, and the king of North Wales. When Sir Launcelot\nsaw this, as he hoved in a little leaved wood, then he said unto Sir\nLavaine, See yonder is a company of good knights, and they hold them\ntogether as boars that were chafed with dogs. That is truth, said Sir\nLavaine.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine entered in the field against them of\n king Arthur\u2019s court, and how Launcelot was hurt._\n\nNow, said Sir Launcelot, and ye will help me a little, ye shall see\nyonder fellowship which chaseth now these men in our side, that they\nshall go as fast backward as they went forward. Sir, spare not, said\nSir Lavaine, for I shall do what I may. Then Sir Launcelot and Sir\nLavaine came in at the thickest of the press, and there Sir Launcelot\nsmote down Sir Brandiles, Sir Sagramor. Sir Dodinas, Sir Kay, Sir\nGriflet, and all this he did with one spear. And Sir Lavaine smote down\nSir Lucan le Buttelere, and Sir Bedivere. And then Sir Launcelot gat\nanother spear, and there he smote down Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, and\nSir Mordred, and Sir Meliot de Logris. And Sir Lavaine smote down\nOzanna le Cure Hardy: and then Sir Launcelot drew his sword, and there\nhe smote on the right hand and on the left hand, and by great force he\nunhorsed Sir Safere, Sir Epinogris, and Sir Galleron. And then the\nknights of the Table Round withdrew them aback, after they had gotten\ntheir horses as well as they might. O mercy, said Sir Gawaine, what\nknight is yonder, that doth so marvellous deeds of arms in that field?\nI wot what he is, said king Arthur. But as at this time I will not name\nhim. Sir, said Sir Gawaine, I would say it were Sir Launcelot, by his\nriding and his buffets that I see him deal: but ever me seemeth it\nshould not be he, for that he beareth the red sleeve upon his head, for\nI wist him never bear token, at no justs, of lady nor gentlewoman. Let\nhim be said king Arthur, he will be better known and do more or ever he\ndepart. Then the party that were against king Arthur were well\ncomforted, and then they held them together, that beforehand were sore\nrebuked. Then Sir Bors, Sir Ector de Maris, and Sir Lionel, called unto\nthem the knights of their blood, as Sir Blamor de Ganis, Sir Bleoberis,\nSir Aliduke, Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Bellangere le Beuse, so\nthese nine knights of Sir Launcelot\u2019s kin thrust in mightily, for they\nwere all noble knights. And they, of great hate and despite that they\nhad unto him, thought to rebuke that noble knight Sir Launcelot, and\nSir Lavaine, for they knew them not. And so they came hurtling\ntogether, and smote down many knights of Northgalis and of\nNorthumberland. And when Sir Launcelot saw them fare so, he gat a spear\nin his hand, and there encountered with him all at once Sir Bors, Sir\nEctor, and Sir Lionel, and all they three smote him at once with their\nspears. And with force of themselves they smote Sir Launcelot\u2019s horse\nto the earth. And by misfortune Sir Bors smote Sir Launcelot through\nthe shield into the side, and the spear brake, and the head left still\nin his side. When Sir Lavaine saw his master lie on the ground, he ran\nto the king of Scots, and smote him to the earth, and by great force he\ntook his horse and brought him to Sir Launcelot, and maugre them all he\nmade him to mount upon that horse. And then Launcelot gat a spear in\nhis hand, and there he smote Sir Bors horse and man to the earth, in\nthe same wise he served Sir Ector and Sir Lionel, and Sir Lavaine smote\ndown Sir Blamor de Ganis. And then Sir Launcelot drew his sword, for he\nfelt himself so sore and hurt that he wend there to have had his death.\nAnd then he smote Sir Bleoberis such a buffet on the helmet that he\nfell down to the earth in a swoon. And in the same wise he served Sir\nAliduke and Sir Galihud. And Sir Lavaine smote down Sir Bellangere,\nthat was the son of Alisander le Orphelin. And by this was Sir Bors\nhorsed, and then he came with Sir Ector and Sir Lionel, and all they\nthree smote with swords upon Sir Launcelot\u2019s helmet. And when he felt\ntheir buffets, and his wound the which was so grievous, then he thought\nto do what he might while he might endure; and then he gave Sir Bors\nsuch a buffet that he made him bow his head passing low, and\ntherewithal he rased off his helm, and might have slain him, and so\npulled him down. And in the same wise he served Sir Ector and Sir\nLionel. For, as the book saith, he might have slain them, but when he\nsaw their visages his heart might not serve him thereto, but left them\nthere.\n\nAnd then afterward he hurled in the thickest press of them all, and did\nthere the marvellousest deeds of arms that ever man saw or heard speak\nof; and ever Sir Lavaine the good knight with him. And there Sir\nLauncelot with his sword smote and pulled down, as the French book\nmaketh mention, more than thirty knights, and the most party were of\nthe Table Round. And Sir Lavaine did full well that day, for he smote\ndown ten knights of the Table Round.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine departed out of the field, and in\n what jeopardy Launcelot was._\n\nMercy, said Sir Gawaine to Arthur, I marvel what knight that he is with\nthe red sleeve. Sir, said king Arthur, he will be known or he depart.\nAnd then the king blew unto lodging, and the prize was given by heralds\nunto the knight with the white shield, that bare the red sleeve. Then\ncame the king with the hundred knights, the king of Northgalis, and the\nking of Northumberland, and Sir Galahalt the haut prince, and said unto\nSir Launcelot, Fair knight, God thee bless, for much have ye done this\nday for us, therefore we pray you that ye will come with us, that ye\nmay receive the honour and the prize as ye have worshipfully deserved\nit. My fair lords, said Sir Launcelot, wit you well, if I have deserved\nthank I have sore bought it, and that me repenteth, for I am like never\nto escape with my life, therefore, fair lords, I pray you that ye will\nsuffer me to depart where me liketh, for I am sore hurt. I take none\nforce of none honour, for I had lever to repose me than to be lord of\nall the world. And therewithal he groaned piteously, and rode a great\ngallop away-ward from them, until he came under a wood\u2019s side; and when\nhe saw that he was from the field nigh a mile, that he was sure he\nmight not be seen, then he said with an high voice, O gentle knight Sir\nLavaine, help me that this truncheon were out of my side, for it\nsticketh so sore that it nigh slayeth me. O mine own lord, said Sir\nLavaine, I would fain do that might please you, but I dread me sore,\nand I draw out the truncheon, that ye shall be in peril of death. I\ncharge you, said Sir Launcelot, as ye love me draw it out. And\ntherewithal he descended from his horse, and right so did Sir Lavaine,\nand forthwith Sir Lavaine drew the truncheon out of his side. And he\ngave a great shriek, and a marvellous grisly groan, and his blood brast\nout nigh a pint at once, that at last he sank down, and so swooned pale\nand deadly. Alas, said Sir Lavaine, what shall I do? And then he turned\nSir Launcelot into the wind, but so he lay there nigh half an hour as\nhe had been dead. And so at the last Sir Launcelot cast up his eyes,\nand said, O Lavaine, help me that I were on my horse, for here is fast\nby within this two mile a gentle hermit, that sometime was a full noble\nknight and a great lord of possessions: and for great goodness he hath\ntaken him to wilful poverty, and forsaken many lands, and his name is\nSir Baudewin of Brittany, and he is a full noble surgeon, and a good\nleech. Now let see, help me up that I were there. For ever my heart\ngiveth me that I shall never die of my cousin-german\u2019s hands. And then\nwith great pain Sir Lavaine halp him upon his horse; and then they rode\na great gallop together, and ever Sir Launcelot bled that it ran down\nto the earth. And so by fortune they came to that hermitage, which was\nunder a wood, and a great cliff on the other side, and a fair water\nrunning under it. And then Sir Lavaine beat on the gate with the butt\nof his spear, and cried fast, Let in for Jesu\u2019s sake. And there came a\nfair child to them, and asked them what they would? Fair son, said Sir\nLavaine, go and pray thy lord the hermit for God\u2019s sake to let in here\na knight that is full sore wounded, and this day tell thy lord that I\nsaw him do more deeds of arms than ever I heard say that any man did.\nSo the child went in lightly, and then he brought the hermit, the which\nwas a passing good man. So when Sir Lavaine saw him, he prayed him for\nGod\u2019s sake of succour. What knight is he? said the hermit, is he of the\nhouse of king Arthur or not? I wot not, said Sir Lavaine, what is he,\nnor what is his name, but well I wot I saw him do marvellously this\nday, as of deeds of arms. On whose party was he? said the hermit. Sir,\nsaid Sir Lavaine, he was this day against king Arthur, and there he wan\nthe prize of all the knights of the Round Table. I have seen the day,\nsaid the hermit, I would have loved him the worse because he was\nagainst my lord king Arthur, for sometime I was one of the fellowship\nof the Round Table, but I thank God now I am otherwise disposed. But\nwhere is he? let me see him. Then Sir Lavaine brought the hermit to him.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_How Launcelot was brought to an hermit for to be healed of his wound,\n and of other matters._\n\nAnd when the hermit beheld him as he sat leaning upon his saddle-bow,\never bleeding piteously, and ever the knight hermit thought that he\nshould know him, but he could not bring him to knowledge, because he\nwas so pale for bleeding. What knight are ye? said the hermit, and\nwhere were ye born? My fair lord, said Sir Launcelot, I am a stranger,\nand a knight adventurous that laboureth throughout many realms for to\nwin worship. Then the hermit advised him better, and saw by a wound on\nhis cheek that he was Sir Launcelot. Alas, said the hermit, mine own\nlord, why hide you your name from me: forsooth I ought to know you of\nright, for ye are the most noblest knight of the world; for well I know\nyou for Sir Launcelot. Sir, said he, sith ye know me, help me and ye\nmay, for God\u2019s sake; for I would be out of this pain at once, either to\ndeath or to life. Have ye no doubt, said the hermit, ye shall live and\nfare right well. And so the hermit called to him two of his servants,\nand so he and his servants bare him into the hermitage, and lightly\nunarmed him and laid him in his bed. And then anon the hermit stanched\nhis blood, and made him to drink good wine, so that Sir Launcelot was\nwell refreshed, and knew himself. For in those days it was not the\nguise of hermits as is now adays. For there were none hermits in those\ndays but that they had been men of worship and of prowess, and those\nhermits held great household, and refreshed people that were in\ndistress.\n\nNow turn we unto king Arthur, and leave we Sir Launcelot in the\nhermitage. So when the kings were come together on both parties, and\nthe great feast should be holden, king Arthur asked the king of\nNorthgalis and their fellowship where was that knight that bare the red\nsleeve:\u2014Bring him before me, that he may have his laud and honour and\nthe prize, as it is right. Then spake Sir Galahalt the haut prince and\nthe king with the hundred knights: We suppose that knight is\nmischieved, and that he is never like to see you, nor none of us all,\nand that is the greatest pity that ever we wist of any knight. Alas,\nsaid Arthur, how may this be? is he so hurt? What is his name? said\nking Arthur. Truly, said they all, we know not his name, nor from\nwhence he came, nor whither he would. Alas, said the king, these be to\nme the worst tidings that came to me this seven year: for I would not\nfor all the lands I hold, to know and wit it were so that that noble\nknight were slain. Know ye him? said they all. As for that, said\nArthur, whether I know him or know him not, ye shall not know for me\nwhat man he is, but Almighty Jesu send me good tidings of him. And so\nsaid they all. By my head, said Sir Gawaine, if it be so, that the good\nknight be so sore hurt, it is great damage and pity to all this land,\nfor he is one of the noblest knights that ever I saw in a field handle\na spear or a sword. And if he may be found I shall find him, for I am\nsure he is not far from this town. Bear you well, said king Arthur, and\nye may find him, unless that he be in such a plight that he may not\nhold himself. Jesu defend, said Sir Gawaine, but wit I shall what he\nis, and I may find him. Right so, Sir Gawaine took a squire with him,\nupon hackneys, and rode all about Camelot within six or seven miles.\nBut so he came again, and could hear no word of him.\n\nThen within two days king Arthur and all the fellowship returned unto\nLondon again. And so as they rode by the way, it happed Sir Gawaine at\nAstolat to lodge with Sir Bernard, there as was Sir Launcelot lodged.\nAnd so as Sir Gawaine was in his chamber to repose him, Sir Bernard the\nold baron came unto him, and his daughter Elaine, for to cheer him, and\nto ask him what tidings, and who did best at that tournament of\nWinchester. Truly, said Sir Gawaine, there were two knights that bare\ntwo white shields; but the one of them bare a red sleeve upon his head,\nand certainly he was one of the best knights that ever I saw just in\nfield. For I dare say, said Sir Gawaine, that one knight with the red\nsleeve smote down forty valiant knights of the Table Round, and his\nfellow did right well and worshipfully. Now blessed be God, said the\nfair maiden of Astolat, that that knight sped so well, for he is the\nman in the world that I first loved, and truly he shall be the last\nthat ever I shall love. Now fair maid, said Sir Gawaine, is that good\nknight your love? Certainly, sir, said she, wit ye well he is my love.\nThen know ye his name, said Sir Gawaine. Nay, truly, said the damsel, I\nknow not his name, nor from whence he cometh, but to say that I love\nhim, I promise you and God that I love him. How had ye knowledge of him\nfirst? said Sir Gawaine.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How Sir Gawaine was lodged with the lord of Astolat, and there had\n knowledge that it was Sir Launcelot that bare the red sleeve._\n\nThen she told him as ye have heard tofore, and how her father betook\nhim her brother to do him service, and how her father lent him her\nbrother Sir Tirre\u2019s shield,\u2014And here with me he left his own shield.\nFor what cause did he so? said Sir Gawaine. For this cause, said the\ndamsel, for his shield was too well known among many noble knights. Ah,\nfair damsel, said Sir Gawaine, please it you let me have a sight of\nthat shield. Sir, said she, it is in my chamber covered with a case,\nand if ye will come with me, ye shall see it. Not so, said Sir Bernard,\ntill his daughter let send for it. So when the shield was come, Sir\nGawaine took off the case: and when he beheld that shield, he knew anon\nthat it was Sir Launcelot\u2019s shield, and his own arms. Ah, mercy, said\nSir Gawaine, now is my heart more heavier then ever it was tofore. Why?\nsaid Elaine. For I have great cause, said Sir Gawaine: is that knight\nthat owneth this shield your love? Yea truly, said she, my love he is,\nGod would I were his love. Truly, said Sir Gawaine, fair damsel, ye\nhave right, for, and he be your love, ye love the most honourable\nknight of the world, and the man of most worship. So me thought ever,\nsaid the damsel, for never, or that time, for no knight that ever I saw\nloved I never none erst. God grant, said Sir Gawaine, that either of\nyou may rejoice other, but that is in a great adventure. But truly,\nsaid Sir Gawaine unto the damsel, ye may say ye have a fair grace, for\nwhy, I have known that noble knight this four and twenty year, and\nnever or that day I nor none other knight, I dare make it good, saw nor\nheard say that ever he bare token or sign of no lady, gentlewoman, nor\nmaiden, at no justs nor tournament. And therefore, fair maiden, said\nSir Gawaine, ye are much beholden to him to give him thanks. But I\ndread me, said Sir Gawaine, that ye shall never see him in this world,\nand that is great pity that ever was of earthly knight. Alas, said she,\nhow may this be? Is he slain? I say not so, said Sir Gawaine, but wit\nye well, he is grievously wounded, by all manner of signs, and by men\u2019s\nsight more likely to be dead then to be on live; and wit ye well he is\nthe noble knight Sir Launcelot, for by this shield I know him. Alas,\nsaid the fair maiden of Astolat, how may this be, and what was his\nhurt? Truly, said Sir Gawaine, the man in the world that loved him best\nhurt him so, and I dare say, said Sir Gawaine, and that knight that\nhurt him knew the very certainty that he had hurt Sir Launcelot, it\nwould be the most sorrow that ever came to his heart. Now, fair father,\nsaid then Elaine, I require you give me leave to ride and to seek him,\nor else I wot well I shall go out of my mind, for I shall never stint\ntill that I find him and my brother Sir Lavaine. Do as it liketh you,\nsaid her father, for me right sore repenteth of the hurt of that noble\nknight. Right so the maid made her ready, and before Sir Gawaine making\ngreat dole. Then on the morn Sir Gawaine came to king Arthur, and told\nhim how he had found Sir Launcelot\u2019s shield in the keeping of the fair\nmaiden of Astolat. All that knew I aforehand, said king Arthur, and\nthat caused me I would not suffer you to have ado at the great justs:\nfor I espied, said king Arthur, when he came in till his lodging, full\nlate in the evening in Astolat. But marvel have I, said Arthur, that\never he would bear any sign of any damsel: for, or now, I never heard\nsay nor knew that ever he bare any token of none earthly woman. By my\nhead, said Sir Gawaine, the fair maiden of Astolat loveth him\nmarvellously well; what it meaneth I cannot say; and she is ridden\nafter to seek him. So the king and all came to London, and there Sir\nGawaine openly disclosed to all the court that it was Sir Launcelot\nthat justed best.\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n_Of the sorrow that Sir Bors had for the hurt of Launcelot; and of the\n anger that the queen had because Launcelot bore the sleeve._\n\nAnd when Sir Bors heard that, wit ye well he was a heavy man, and so\nwere all his kinsmen. But when queen Guenever wist that Sir Launcelot\nbare the red sleeve of the fair maiden of Astolat, she was nigh out of\nher mind for wrath. And then she sent for Sir Bors de Ganis in all the\nhaste that might be. So when Sir Bors was come tofore the queen, then\nshe said, Ah, Sir Bors, have ye heard say how falsely Sir Launcelot\nhath betrayed me? Alas, madam, said Sir Bors, I am afraid he hath\nbetrayed himself, and us all. No force, said the queen, though he be\ndestroyed, for he is a false traitor knight. Madam, said Sir Bors, I\npray you say ye not so, for wit you well I may not hear such language\nof him. Why, Sir Bors, said she, should I not call him traitor, when he\nbare the red sleeve upon his head at Winchester, at the great justs?\nMadam, said Sir Bors, that sleeve-bearing repenteth me sore, but I dare\nsay he did it to none evil intent, but for this cause he bare the red\nsleeve, that none of his blood should know him; for, or then, we nor\nnone of us all never knew that ever he bare token or sign of maid,\nlady, ne gentlewoman. Fie on him, said the queen, yet for all his pride\nand boasting, there ye proved yourself his better. Nay, madam, say ye\nnever more so, for he beat me and my fellows, and might have slain us,\nand he had would. Fie on him, said the queen, for I heard Sir Gawaine\nsay before my lord Arthur, that it were marvel to tell the great love\nthat is between the fair maiden of Astolat and him. Madam, said Sir\nBors, I may not warn Sir Gawaine to say what it pleased him: but I dare\nsay as for my lord Sir Launcelot, that he loveth no lady, gentlewoman,\nnor maid, but all he loveth in like much, and therefore, madam, said\nSir Bors, ye may say what ye will, but wit ye well I will haste me to\nseek him, and find him wheresoever he be, and God send me good tidings\nof him. And so leave we them there, and speak we of Sir Launcelot, that\nlay in great peril.\n\nSo as fair Elaine came to Winchester, she sought there all about, and\nby fortune Sir Lavaine was ridden to play him, to enchafe his horse.\nAnd anon as Elaine saw him she knew him, and then she cried onloud\nuntil him. And when he heard her, anon he came to her; and then she\nasked her brother, How did my lord, Sir Launcelot? Who told you,\nsister, that my lord\u2019s name was Sir Launcelot? Then she told him how\nSir Gawaine by his shield knew him. So they rode together till that\nthey came to the hermitage, and anon she alight. So Sir Lavaine brought\nher in to Sir Launcelot. And when she saw him lie so sick and pale in\nhis bed, she might not speak, but suddenly she fell to the earth down\nsuddenly in a swoon, and there she lay a great while. And when she was\nrelieved she sighed, and said, My lord Sir Launcelot, alas, why be ye\nin this plight? and then she swooned again. And then Sir Launcelot\nprayed Sir Lavaine to take her up,\u2014And bring her to me. And when she\ncame to herself, Sir Launcelot kissed her, and said, Fair maiden, why\nfare ye thus? Ye put me to pain; wherefore make ye no more such cheer,\nfor, and ye be come to comfort me, ye be right welcome, and of this\nlittle hurt that I have, I shall be right hastily whole, by the grace\nof God. But I marvel, said Sir Launcelot, who told you my name. Then\nthe fair maiden told him all how Sir Gawaine was lodged with her\nfather,\u2014And there by your shield he discovered your name. Alas, said\nSir Launcelot, that me repenteth, that my name is known, for I am sure\nit will turn unto anger. And then Sir Launcelot compassed in his mind\nthat Sir Gawaine would tell queen Guenever how he bare the red sleeve,\nand for whom, that he wist well would turn unto great anger. So this\nmaiden, Elaine, never went from Sir Launcelot, but watched him day and\nnight, and did such attendance to him that the French book saith there\nwas never woman did more kindlier for man than she. Then Sir Launcelot\nprayed Sir Lavaine to make espies in Winchester for Sir Bors if he came\nthere, and told him by what tokens he should know him, by a wound in\nhis forehead: For well I am sure, said Sir Launcelot, that Sir Bors\nwill seek me, for he is the same good knight that hurt me.\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n_How Sir Bors sought Launcelot and found him in the hermitage, and of\n the lamentation between them._\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Bors de Ganis, that came unto Winchester to seek\nafter his cousin, Sir Launcelot; and so when he came to Winchester,\nanon there were men that Sir Lavaine had made to lie in a watch for\nsuch a man; and anon Sir Lavaine had warning; and then Sir Lavaine came\nto Winchester, and found Sir Bors, and there he told him what he was,\nand with whom he was, and what was his name. Now, fair knight, said Sir\nBors, I require you that ye will bring me to my lord Sir Launcelot.\nSir, said Sir Lavaine, take your horse, and within this hour ye shall\nsee him. And so they departed, and came to the hermitage.\n\nAnd when Sir Bors saw Sir Launcelot lie in his bed, pale and\ndiscoloured, anon Sir Bors lost his countenance, and for kindness and\npity he might not speak, but wept tenderly a great while. And then when\nhe might speak he said thus: O my lord Sir Launcelot, God you bless,\nand send you hasty recovery; and full heavy am I of my misfortune and\nof mine unhappiness, for now I may call myself unhappy, and I dread me\nthat God is greatly displeased with me, that he would suffer me to have\nsuch a shame for to hurt you, that are all our leader and all our\nworship, and therefore I call myself unhappy. Alas, that ever such a\ncaitiff knight as I am should have power by unhappiness to hurt the\nmost noblest knight of the world. Where I so shamefully set upon you\nand overcharged you, and where ye might have slain me, ye saved me, and\nso did not I: for I, and your blood, did to you our utterance. I\nmarvel, said Sir Bors, that my heart or my blood would serve me,\nwherefore my lord Sir Launcelot, I ask your mercy. Fair cousin, said\nSir Launcelot, ye be right welcome, and wit ye well overmuch ye say for\nto please me, the which pleaseth me not; for why? I have the same\nsought, for I would with pride have overcome you all, and there in my\npride I was near slain, and that was in mine own default, for I might\nhave given you warning of my being there. And then had I had no hurt;\nfor it is an old said saw, there is hard battle there as kin and\nfriends do battle either against other; there may be no mercy, but\nmortal war. Therefore, fair cousin, said Sir Launcelot, let this speech\noverpass, and all shall be welcome that God sendeth; and let us leave\noff this matter, and let us speak of some rejoicing: for this that is\ndone may not be undone, and let us find a remedy how soon that I may be\nwhole. Then Sir Bors leaned upon his bed\u2019s side, and told Sir Launcelot\nhow the queen was passing wroth with him, because he ware the red\nsleeve at the great justs. And there Sir Bors told him all how Sir\nGawaine discovered it by your shield that ye left with the fair maiden\nof Astolat. Then is the queen wroth, said Sir Launcelot, and therefore\nam I right heavy, for I deserved no wrath, for all that I did was\nbecause that I would not be known. Right so excused I you, said Sir\nBors, but all was in vain, for she said more largely to me than I to\nyou now. But is this she, said Sir Bors, that is so busy about you,\nthat men call the fair maiden of Astolat? She it is, said Sir\nLauncelot, that by no means I cannot put from me. Why should ye put her\nfrom you? said Sir Bors, she is a passing fair damsel, and a well\nbeseen and well taught; and God would, fair cousin, said Sir Bors, that\nye could love her, but as to that I may not, nor I dare not, counsel\nyou. But I see well, said Sir Bors, by her diligence about you, that\nshe loveth you entirely. That me repenteth, said Sir Launcelot. Sir,\nsaid Sir Bors, she is not the first that hath lost her pain upon you,\nand that is the more pity. And so they talked of many more things. And\nso within three days or four, Sir Launcelot was big and strong again.\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot armed him to assay if he might bear arms, and how\n his wound burst out again._\n\nThen Sir Bors told Sir Launcelot how there was sworn a great tournament\nand justs betwixt king Arthur and the king of Northgalis, that should\nbe on Allhallowmass day, beside Winchester. Is that truth? said Sir\nLauncelot, then shall ye abide with me still a little while, until that\nI be whole, for I feel myself right big and strong. Blessed be God,\nsaid Sir Bors. Then were they there nigh a month together; and ever\nthis maiden Elaine did ever her diligent labour, night and day, unto\nSir Launcelot, that there was never child nor wife more meeker to\nfather and husband, than was that fair maiden of Astolat. Wherefore Sir\nBors was greatly pleased with her. So upon a day, by the assent of Sir\nLauncelot, Sir Bors and Sir Lavaine they made the hermit to seek in\nwoods for divers herbs. And so Sir Launcelot made fair Elaine to gather\nherbs for him, to make him a bath. In the mean while, Sir Launcelot\nmade him to arm him at all pieces, and there he thought to assay his\narmour and his spear, for his hurt or not. And so when he was upon his\nhorse, he stirred him fiercely, and the horse was passing lusty and\nfresh, because he was not laboured a month before. And then Sir\nLauncelot couched that spear in the rest: that courser lept mightily\nwhen he felt the spurs; and he that was upon him, the which was the\nnoblest horse of the world, strained him mightily and stably, and kept\nstill the spear in the rest. And therewith Sir Launcelot strained\nhimself so straitly, with so great force, to get the horse forward,\nthat the bottom of the wound brast, both within and without, and\ntherewithal the blood came out so fiercely that he felt himself so\nfeeble that he might not sit upon his horse. And then Sir Launcelot\ncried unto Sir Bors, Ah, Sir Bors, and Sir Lavaine, help, for I am come\nto mine end. And therewith he fell down on the one side to the earth,\nlike a dead corpse. And then Sir Bors and Sir Lavaine came to him, with\nsorrow making out of measure. And so by fortune the maiden Elaine heard\ntheir mourning, and then she came thither. And when she found Sir\nLauncelot there armed in that place, she cried and wept as she had been\nwood, and then she kissed him, and did what she might to awake him. And\nthen she rebuked her brother and Sir Bors, and called them false\ntraitors, why they would take him out of his bed; then she cried, and\nsaid she would appeal them of his death. With this came the holy\nhermit, Sir Baudewin of Britanny; and when he found Sir Launcelot in\nthat plight he said but little, but wit ye well he was wroth; and then\nhe bade them, Let us have him in. And so they all bare him unto the\nhermitage, and unarmed him, and laid him in his bed, and evermore his\nwound bled piteously, but he stirred no limb of him. Then the knight\nhermit put a thing in his nose, and a little deal of water in his\nmouth, and then Sir Launcelot waked of his swoon, and then the hermit\nstanched his bleeding. And when he might speak, he asked Sir Launcelot\nwhy he put his life in jeopardy. Sir, said Sir Launcelot, because I\nwend I had been strong, and also Sir Bors told me that there should be\nat Allhallowmass a great justs betwixt king Arthur and the king of\nNorthgalis, and therefore I thought to assay it myself, whether I might\nbe there or not. Ah, Sir Launcelot, said the hermit, your heart and\nyour courage will never be done until your last day, but ye shall do\nnow by my counsel; let Sir Bors depart from you, and let him do at that\ntournament what he may, and by the grace of God, said the knight\nhermit, by that the tournament be done, and ye come hither again, Sir\nLauncelot shall be as whole as ye, so that he will be governed by me.\n\n\n CHAP. XVIII.\n\n_How Sir Bors returned and told tidings of Sir Launcelot, and of the\n tourney, and to whom the prize was given._\n\nThen Sir Bors made him ready to depart from Sir Launcelot; and then Sir\nLauncelot said, Fair cousin, Sir Bors, recommend me unto all them unto\nwhom me ought to recommend me unto, and I pray you enforce yourself at\nthat justs, that ye may be best, for my love, and here shall I abide\nyou, at the mercy of God, till ye come again. And so Sir Bors departed,\nand came to the court of king Arthur, and told them in what place he\nhad left Sir Launcelot. That me repenteth, said the king, but sin he\nshall have his life, we may all thank God. And there Sir Bors told the\nqueen in what jeopardy Sir Launcelot was, when he would essay his\nhorse: and all that he did, madam, was for the love of you, because he\nwould have been at this tournament. Fie on him, recreant knight, said\nthe queen, for wit ye well I am right sorry and he shall have his life.\nHis life shall he have, said Sir Bors, and who that would otherwise,\nexcept you, madam, we that be of his blood should help to short their\nlives. But, madam, said Sir Bors, ye have been oft-times displeased\nwith my lord Sir Launcelot, but at all times at the end ye find him a\ntrue knight. And so he departed. And then every knight of the Round\nTable that was there present at that time, made them ready to be at\nthat justs at Allhallowmass. And thither drew many knights of divers\ncountries. And as Allhallowmass drew near, thither came the king of\nNorthgalis, and the king with the hundred knights, and Sir Galahalt the\nhaut prince of Surluse, and thither came king Anguish of Ireland, and\nthe king of Scots. So these three kings came on king Arthur\u2019s party.\nAnd so that day Sir Gawaine did great deeds of arms, and began first,\nand the heralds numbered that Sir Gawaine smote down twenty knights.\nThen Sir Bors de Ganis came in the same time, and he was numbered that\nhe smote down twenty knights. And therefore the prize was given betwixt\nthem both, for they began first, and the longest endured.\n\nAlso Sir Gareth, as the book saith, did that day great deeds of arms,\nfor he smote down, and pulled down, thirty knights. But when he had\ndone these deeds he tarried not, but so departed, and therefore he lost\nhis prize. And Sir Palamides did great deeds of arms that day, for he\nsmote down twenty knights, but he departed suddenly; and men deemed Sir\nGareth and he rode together to some manner adventure. So when this\ntournament was done, Sir Bors departed, and rode till he came to Sir\nLauncelot his cousin, and then he found him walking on his feet, and\nthere either made great joy of other. And so Sir Bors told Sir\nLauncelot of all the justs, like as ye have heard. I marvel, said Sir\nLauncelot, that Sir Gareth, when he had done such deeds of arms, that\nhe would not tarry. Thereof we marvelled all, said Sir Bors, for, but\nif it were you, or Sir Tristram, or Sir Lamorak de Galis, I saw never\nknight bear down so many in so little a while as did Sir Gareth. And\nanon as he was gone, he wist not where. By my head, said Sir Launcelot,\nhe is a noble knight, and a mighty man, and well breathed; and if he\nwere well assayed, said Sir Launcelot, I would deem he were good enough\nfor any man that beareth the life; and he is a gentle knight,\ncourteous, true, and bounteous, meek and mild, and in him is no manner\nof mal-engine, but plain, faithful, and true. So then they made them\nready to depart from the hermit. And so upon a morn they took their\nhorses, and Elaine le Blank with them; and when they came to Astolat,\nthere they were well lodged, and had great cheer of Sir Bernard the old\nbaron, and of Sir Tirre his son. And so upon the morn, when Sir\nLauncelot should depart, fair Elaine brought her father with her, and\nSir Tirre and Sir Lavaine, and thus she said:\n\n\n CHAP. XIX.\n\n_Of the great lamentation of the fair maid of Astolat when Launcelot\n should depart, and how she died for his love._\n\nMy lord Sir Launcelot, now I see ye will depart, now, fair knight and\ncourteous knight, have mercy upon me, and suffer me not to die for thy\nlove. What would ye that I did? said Sir Launcelot. I would have you to\nmy husband, said Elaine. Fair damsel, I thank you, said Sir Launcelot,\nbut truly, said he, I cast me never to be wedded man. Then, fair\nknight, said she, will ye be my love? Jesu defend me, said Sir\nLauncelot, for then I rewarded to your father and your brother full\nevil for their great goodness. Alas, said she, then must I die for your\nlove. Ye shall not so, said Sir Launcelot, for wit ye well, fair\nmaiden, I might have been married and I had would, but I never applied\nme to be married yet. But because, fair damsel, that ye love me as ye\nsay ye do, I will, for your good will and kindness, shew you some\ngoodness, and that is this; that wheresoever ye will beset your heart\nupon some good knight that will wed you, I shall give you together a\nthousand pound yearly, to you and to your heirs. Thus much will I give\nyou, fair madam, for your kindness, and always while I live to be your\nown knight. Of all this, said the maiden, I will none, for, but if ye\nwill wed me, or else be my lover, wit you well, Sir Launcelot, my good\ndays are done. Fair damsel, said Sir Launcelot, of these two things ye\nmust pardon me. Then she shrieked shrilly, and fell down in a swoon;\nand then women bare her into her chamber, and there she made overmuch\nsorrow. And then Sir Launcelot would depart; and there he asked Sir\nLavaine what he would do. What should I do, said Sir Lavaine, but\nfollow you, but if ye drive me from you, or command me to go from you?\nThen came Sir Bernard to Sir Launcelot, and said to him, I cannot see\nbut that my daughter Elaine will die for your sake. I may not do\nwithal, said Sir Launcelot, for that me sore repenteth; for I report me\nto yourself that my proffer is fair, and me repenteth, said Sir\nLauncelot, that she loveth me as she doth: I was never the causer of\nit, for I report me to your son, I early nor late proffered her bounty\nnor fair behests; and as for me, said Sir Launcelot, I dare do all that\na good knight should do, that she is a true maiden, both for deed and\nfor will; and I am right heavy of her distress, for she is a full fair\nmaiden, good, and gentle, and well taught. Father, said Sir Lavaine, I\ndare make good she is pure and good as my lord Sir Launcelot hath said;\nbut she doth as I do, for since I first saw my lord Sir Launcelot I\ncould never depart from him, nor nought I will and I may follow him.\nThen Sir Launcelot took his leave, and so they departed, and came unto\nWinchester. And when Arthur wist that Sir Launcelot was come, whole and\nsound, the king made great joy of him, and so did Sir Gawaine, and all\nthe knights of the Round Table except Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred.\nAlso queen Guenever was wood wroth with Sir Launcelot, and would by no\nmeans speak with him, but estranged herself from him, and Sir Launcelot\nmade all the means that he might to speak with the queen, but it would\nnot be.\n\nNow speak we of the fair maiden of Astolat, that made such sorrow day\nand night, that she never slept, eat, nor drank; and ever she made her\ncomplaint unto Sir Launcelot. So when she had thus endured a ten days,\nthat she feebled so that she must needs pass out of this world, then\nshe shrived her clean, and received her Creator. And ever she\ncomplained still upon Sir Launcelot. Then her ghostly father bade her\nleave such thoughts. Then she said, Why should I leave such thoughts?\nam I not an earthly woman? and all the while the breath is in my body I\nmay complain me, for my belief is I do none offence though I love an\nearthly man, and I take God to my record I never loved none but Sir\nLauncelot du Lake, nor never shall; and a pure maiden I am for him and\nfor all other. And since it is the sufferance of God that I shall die\nfor the love of so noble a knight, I beseech the High Father of heaven\nto have mercy upon my soul, and upon mine innumerable pains that I\nsuffered may be allegiance of part of my sins. For sweet Lord Jesu,\nsaid the fair maiden, I take thee to record, on thee I was never great\noffender against thy laws, but that I loved this noble knight Sir\nLauncelot out of measure, and of myself, good Lord, I might not\nwithstand the fervent love wherefore I have my death. And then she\ncalled her father Sir Bernard, and her brother Sir Tirre, and heartily\nshe prayed her father that her brother might write a letter like as she\ndid endite it; and so her father granted her. And when the letter was\nwritten word by word like as she devised, then she prayed her father\nthat she might be watched until she were dead,\u2014And while my body is\nhot, let this letter be put in my right hand, and my hand bound fast\nwith the letter until that I be cold, and let me be put in a fair bed,\nwith all the richest clothes that I have about me, and so let my bed,\nand all my richest clothes, be laid with me in a chariot unto the next\nplace where Thames is, and there let me be put within a barget, and but\none man with me, such as ye trust to steer me thither, and that my\nbarget be covered with black samite, over and over. Thus, father, I\nbeseech you, let it be done. So her father granted it her faithfully,\nall things should be done like as she had devised. Then her father and\nher brother made great dole, for, when this was done, anon she died.\nAnd so when she was dead, the corpse, and the bed, all was led the next\nway unto Thames, and there a man, and the corpse, and all, were put\ninto Thames, and so the man steered the barget unto Westminster, and\nthere he rowed a great while to and fro or any espied it.\n\n\n CHAP. XX.\n\n_How the corpse of the maid of Astolat arrived tofore king Arthur, and\n of the burying, and how Sir Launcelot offered the mass-penny._\n\nSo by fortune king Arthur and the queen Guenever were speaking together\nat a window; and so as they looked into Thames, they espied this black\nbarget, and had marvel what it meant. Then the king called Sir Kay, and\nshewed it him. Sir, said Sir Kay, wit you well there is some new\ntidings. Go thither, said the king to Sir Kay, and take with you Sir\nBrandiles and Agravaine, and bring me ready word what is there. Then\nthese three knights departed, and came to the barget, and went in; and\nthere they found the fairest corpse lying in a rich bed, and a poor man\nsitting in the barget\u2019s end, and no word would he speak. So these three\nknights returned unto the king again, and told him what they found.\nThat fair corpse will I see, said the king. And so then the king took\nthe queen by the hand and went thither. Then the king made the barget\nto be holden fast; and then the king and the queen entered, with\ncertain knights with them. And there he saw the fairest woman lie in a\nrich bed, covered unto her middle with many rich clothes, and all was\nof cloth of gold, and she lay as though she had smiled. Then the queen\nespied a letter in her right hand, and told it to the king. Then the\nking took it, and said, Now I am sure this letter will tell what she\nwas, and why she is come hither. Then the king and the queen went out\nof the barget, and so commanded a certain man to wait upon the barget.\nAnd so when the king was come within his chamber, he called many\nknights about him, and said that he would wit openly what was written\nwithin that letter. Then the king brake it, and made a clerk to read\nit; and this was the intent of the letter:\u2014Most noble knight, Sir\nLauncelot, now hath death made us two at debate for your love; I was\nyour lover, that men called the fair maiden of Astolat; therefore unto\nall ladies I make my moan; yet pray for my soul, and bury me at the\nleast, and offer ye my mass-penny. This is my last request. And a clean\nmaiden I died, I take God to witness. Pray for my soul, Sir Launcelot,\nas thou art peerless.\u2014This was all the substance in the letter. And\nwhen it was read, the king, the queen, and all the knights wept for\npity of the doleful complaints. Then was Sir Launcelot sent for. And\nwhen he was come, king Arthur made the letter to be read to him; and\nwhen Sir Launcelot heard it word by word, he said, My lord Arthur, wit\nye well I am right heavy of the death of this fair damsel. God knoweth\nI was never causer of her death by my willing, and that will I report\nme to her own brother; here he is, Sir Lavaine. I will not say nay,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, but that she was both fair and good, and much I was\nbeholden unto her, but she loved me out of measure. Ye might have\nshewed her, said the queen, some bounty and gentleness, that might have\npreserved her life. Madam, said Sir Launcelot, she would none other way\nbe answered, but that she would be my wife, or else my love, and of\nthese two I would not grant her; but I proffered her, for her good love\nthat she shewed me, a thousand pound yearly to her and to her heirs,\nand to wed any manner knight that she could find best to love in her\nheart. For, madam, said Sir Launcelot, I love not to be constrained to\nlove; for love must arise of the heart, and not by no constraint. That\nis truth, said the king, and many knights: love is free in himself, and\nnever will be bounden; for where he is bounden he loseth himself. Then\nsaid the king unto Sir Launcelot, It will be your worship that ye\noversee that she be interred worshipfully. Sir, said Sir Launcelot,\nthat shall be done as I can best devise. And so many knights went\nthither to behold that fair maiden. And so upon the morn she was\ninterred richly, and Sir Launcelot offered her mass-penny, and all the\nknights of the Table Round that were there at that time offered with\nSir Launcelot. And then the poor man went again with the barget. Then\nthe queen sent for Sir Launcelot, and prayed him of mercy, for why she\nhad been wroth with him causeless. This is not the first time, said Sir\nLauncelot, that ye have been displeased with me causeless; but, madam,\never I must suffer you, but what sorrow I endure I take no force. So\nthis passed on all that winter, with all manner of hunting and hawking,\nand justs and tourneys were many betwixt many great lords; and ever in\nall places Sir Lavaine gat great worship, so that he was nobly renowned\namong many knights of the Table Round.\n\n\n CHAP. XXI.\n\n_Of great justs done all a Christmas, and of a great justs and tourney\n ordained by king Arthur, and of Sir Launcelot._\n\nThus it passed on till Christmas, and every day there was justs made\nfor a diamond, who that justed best should have a diamond. But Sir\nLauncelot would not just, but if it were at a great justs cried. But\nSir Lavaine justed there all that Christmas passing well, and best was\npraised; for there were but few that did so well. Wherefore all manner\nof knights deemed that Sir Lavaine should be made knight of the Round\nTable at the next feast of Pentecost. So at after Christmas king Arthur\nlet call unto him many knights, and there they advised together to make\na party and a great tournament and justs. And the king of Northgalis\nsaid to Arthur he would have on his party king Anguish of Ireland, and\nthe king with the hundred knights, and the king of Northumberland, and\nSir Galahalt the haut prince; and so these four kings and this mighty\nduke took party against king Arthur and the knights of the Table Round.\nAnd the cry was made that the day of the justs should be beside\nWestminster on Candlemas day, whereof many knights were glad, and made\nthem ready to be at that justs in the freshest manner. Then queen\nGuenever sent for Sir Launcelot, and said thus: I warn you that ye ride\nno more in no justs nor tournaments, but that your kinsmen may know\nyou. And at these justs that shall be, ye shall have of me a sleeve of\ngold; and I pray you, for my sake, enforce yourself there that men may\nspeak of you worship. But I charge you as ye will have my love, that ye\nwarn your kinsmen that ye will bear that day the sleeve of gold upon\nyour helmet. Madam, said Sir Launcelot, it shall be done. And so either\nmade great joy of other. And when Sir Launcelot saw his time, he told\nSir Bors that he would depart, and have no more with him but Sir\nLavaine, unto the good hermit that dwelled in the forest of Windsor,\nhis name was Sir Brastias, and there he thought to repose him, and to\ntake all the rest that he might, because he would be fresh at that day\nof justs. So Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine departed, that no creature\nwist where he was become, but the noble men of his blood. And when he\nwas come to the hermitage, wit you well he had good cheer. And so daily\nSir Launcelot would go to a well fast by the hermitage, and there he\nwould lie down, and see the well spring and bubble, and sometime he\nslept there. So at that time there was a lady dwelled in that forest,\nand she was a great huntress, and daily she used to hunt, and always\nshe bare her bow with her; and no men went never with her, but always\nwomen, and they were shooters, and could well kill a deer, both at the\nstalk and at the trest; and they daily bare bows and arrows, horns and\nwood-knives, and many good dogs they had, both for the string and for a\nbait. So it happed that this lady, the huntress, had baited her dogs\nfor the bow at a barren hind, and so this barren hind took her flight\nover heaths and woods, and ever this lady and part of her gentlewomen\ncoasted the hind, and checked it by the noise of the hounds, to have\nmet with the hind at some water. And so it happed the hind came to the\nwell whereas Sir Launcelot was sleeping and slumbering. And so when the\nhind came to the well, for heat she went to soil, and there she lay a\ngreat while; and the dogs came fast after, and umbecast about, for she\nhad lost the very perfect track of the hind. Right so, there came that\nlady the huntress, that knew by the dog that she had that the hind was\nat the soil in that well. And there she came stiffly, and found the\nhind, and she put a broad arrow in her bow, and shot at the hind, and\novershot the hind, and so, by misfortune, the arrow smote Sir Launcelot\nin the thick of the thigh, over the barbs. When Sir Launcelot felt\nhimself so hurt, he hurled up woodly, and saw the lady that had smitten\nhim. And when he saw she was a woman, he said thus, Lady, or damsel,\nwhat that thou be, in an evil time bare ye a bow, the devil made you a\nshooter.\n\n\n CHAP. XXII.\n\n_How Launcelot after that he was hurt of a gentlewoman came to an\n hermit, and of other matters._\n\nNow mercy, fair sir, said the lady, I am a gentlewoman that useth here\nin this forest hunting, and truly I saw you not, but as here was a\nbarren hind at the soil in this well, and I wend to have done well, but\nmy hand swerved. Alas, said Sir Launcelot, ye have mischieved me. And\nso the lady departed, and Sir Launcelot, as well as he might, pulled\nout the arrow, and the head abode still in his thigh; and so he went\nweakly to the hermitage, evermore bleeding as he went. And when Sir\nLavaine and the hermit espied that Sir Launcelot was hurt, wit you well\nthey were passing heavy: but Sir Lavaine nor the hermit wist not how he\nwas hurt, nor by whom. And then they were wroth out of measure. Then\nwith great pain the hermit gat out the arrow\u2019s head out of Sir\nLauncelot\u2019s thigh, and much of his blood he shed, and the wound was\npassing sore, and unhappily smitten; for it was in such a place that he\nmight not sit in no saddle. Ah, mercy, said Sir Launcelot, I call\nmyself the most unhappiest man that liveth; for ever when I would\nfainest have worship, there befalleth me ever some unhappy thing. Now,\nso heaven me help, I shall be in the field upon Candlemas day at the\njusts, whatsoever fall of it. So all that might be gotten to heal Sir\nLauncelot was had. So when the day was come, Sir Launcelot let devise\nthat he was arrayed, and Sir Lavaine, and their horses, as though they\nhad been Saracens. And so they departed, and came nigh to the field.\nThe king of Northgalis with an hundred knights with him, and the king\nof Northumberland brought with him an hundred good knights, and king\nAnguish of Ireland brought with him an hundred good knights ready to\njust, and Sir Galahalt the haut prince brought with him an hundred good\nknights, and the king with the hundred knights brought with him as\nmany; and all these were proved good knights. Then came in king\nArthur\u2019s party, and there came in the king of Scots with an hundred\nknights, and king Uriens of Gore brought with him an hundred good\nknights, and king Howel of Britanny brought with him an hundred\nknights. And Chalance of Clarance brought with him an hundred knights,\nand king Arthur himself came into the field with two hundred knights,\nand the most part were knights of the Table Round that were proved\nnoble knights. And there were old knights set in scaffolds, for to\njudge with the queen who did best.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot behaved him at the justs, and other men also._\n\nThen they blew to the field, and there the king of Northgalis\nencountered with the king of Scots, and there the king of Scots had a\nfall, and the king of Ireland smote down king Uriens, and the king of\nNorthumberland smote down king Howel of Britanny, and Sir Galahalt, the\nhaut prince, smote down Chalance of Clarance. And then king Arthur was\nwood wroth, and ran to the king with the hundred knights, and there\nking Arthur smote him down, and after with that same spear king Arthur\nsmote down three other knights. And then when his spear was broken king\nArthur did passing well. And so therewithal came in Sir Gawaine, and\nSir Gaheris, Sir Agravaine, and Sir Mordred, and there every each of\nthem smote down a knight, and Sir Gawaine smote down four knights. And\nthen there began a strong meddle, for then there came in the knights of\nLauncelot\u2019s blood, and Sir Gareth and Sir Palamides with them, and many\nknights of the Table Round, and they began to hold the four kings and\nthe mighty duke so hard that they were discomfit, but this duke\nGalahalt the haut prince was a noble knight, and by his mighty prowess\nof arms he held the knights of the Table Round straight enough. All\nthis doing saw Sir Launcelot, and then he came into the field with Sir\nLavaine, as it had been thunder. And then anon Sir Bors and the knights\nof his blood espied Sir Launcelot, and said to them all, I warn you\nbeware of him with the sleeve of gold upon his head, for he is himself\nSir Launcelot du Lake. And for great goodness Sir Bors warned Sir\nGareth. I am well apayed, said Sir Gareth, that I may know him. But who\nis he, said they all, that rideth with him in the same array? That is\nthe good and gentle knight Sir Lavaine, said Sir Bors. So Sir Launcelot\nencountered with Sir Gawaine, and there by force Sir Launcelot smote\ndown Sir Gawaine and his horse to the earth, and so he smote down Sir\nAgravaine and Sir Gaheris, and also he smote down Sir Mordred, and all\nthis was with one spear. Then Sir Lavaine met with Sir Palamides, and\neither met other so hard and so fiercely that both their horses fell to\nthe earth. And then were they horsed again, and then met Sir Launcelot\nwith Sir Palamides, and there Sir Palamides had a fall. And so Sir\nLauncelot, or ever he stint, as fast as he might get spears, he smote\ndown thirty knights, and the most part of them were knights of the\nTable Round. And ever the knights of his blood withdrew them, and made\nthem ado in other places where Sir Launcelot came not; and then king\nArthur was wroth when he saw Sir Launcelot do such deeds, and then the\nking called unto him Sir Gawaine, Sir Mordred, Sir Kay, Sir Griflet,\nSir Lucan the butler, Sir Bedivere, Sir Palamides, and Safere his\nbrother; and so the king with these nine knights made them ready to set\nupon Sir Launcelot and upon Sir Lavaine. All this espied Sir Bors and\nSir Gareth. Now I dread me sore, said Sir Bors, that my lord Sir\nLauncelot will be hard matched. By my head, said Sir Gareth, I will\nride unto my lord Sir Launcelot for to help him, fall of him what may,\nfor he is the same man that made me knight. Ye shall not so, said Sir\nBors, by my counsel, unless that ye were disguised. Ye shall see me\ndisguised, said Sir Gareth: and therewithal he espied a Welsh knight\nwhere he was to repose himself, and he was sore hurt afore by Sir\nGawaine, and to him Sir Gareth rode, and prayed him of his knighthood\nto lend him his shield for his. I will well, said the Welsh knight. And\nwhen Sir Gareth had his shield, the book saith, it was green, with a\nmaiden that seemed in it. Then Sir Gareth came driving to Sir Launcelot\nall that he might, and said, Knight, keep thyself, for yonder cometh\nking Arthur with nine noble knights with him to put you to a rebuke,\nand so I am come to bear you fellowship for old love ye have shewed me.\nGramercy, said Sir Launcelot. Sir, said Sir Gareth, encounter ye with\nSir Gawaine, and I shall encounter with Sir Palamides, and let Sir\nLavaine match with the noble king Arthur. And when we have delivered\nthem, let us three hold us sadly together. Then came king Arthur with\nhis nine knights with him, and Sir Launcelot encountered with Sir\nGawaine, and gave him such a buffet that the bow of his saddle brast,\nand Sir Gawaine fell to the earth. Then Sir Gareth encountered with the\ngood knight Sir Palamides, and he gave him such a buffet that both his\nhorse and he dashed to the earth. Then encountered king Arthur with Sir\nLavaine, and there either of them smote other to the earth, horse and\nall, that they lay a great while. Then Sir Launcelot smote down Sir\nAgravaine, and Sir Gaheris, and Sir Mordred. And Sir Gareth smote down\nSir Kay, Sir Safere, and Sir Griflet. And then Sir Lavaine was horsed\nagain, and he smote down Sir Lucan the butler, and Sir Bedivere, and\nthen there began great throng of good knights. Then Sir Launcelot\nhurtled here and there, and rased and pulled off helms, so that at that\ntime there might none sit him a buffet with spear nor with sword. And\nSir Gareth did such deeds of arms that all men wondered what knight he\nwas with the green shield; for he smote down that day and pulled down\nmore than thirty knights. And, as the French book saith, Sir Launcelot\nmarvelled, when he beheld Sir Gareth do such deeds, what knight he\nmight be: and Sir Lavaine pulled down and smote down twenty knights.\nAlso Sir Launcelot knew not Sir Gareth, for, and Sir Tristram de Liones\nor Sir Lamorak de Galis had been alive, Sir Launcelot would have deemed\nhe had been one of them twain. So ever as Sir Launcelot, Sir Gareth,\nSir Lavaine, fought, and on the one side Sir Bors, Sir Ector de Maris,\nSir Lionel, Sir Lamorak de Galis, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Galihud, Sir\nGalihodin, Sir Pelleas, and with more other of king Ban\u2019s blood, fought\nupon another party, and held the king with the hundred knights, and\nalso the king of Northumberland, right straight.\n\n\n CHAP. XXIV.\n\n_How king Arthur marvelled much of the justing in the field, and how he\n rode and found Sir Launcelot._\n\nSo this tournament and this justs dured long, till it was near night,\nfor the knights of the Round Table relieved ever unto king Arthur; for\nthe king was wroth out of measure that he and his knights might not\nprevail that day. Then Sir Gawaine said to the king, I marvel where all\nthis day Sir Bors de Ganis and his fellowship of Sir Launcelot\u2019s blood\nbe. I marvel all this day they be not about you. It is for some cause,\nsaid Sir Gawaine. By my head, said Sir Kay, Sir Bors is yonder all this\nday upon the right hand of this field, and there he and his blood done\nmore worshipfully than we do. It may well be, said Sir Gawaine, but I\ndread me ever of guile, for on pain of my life, said Sir Gawaine, this\nknight with the red sleeve of gold is himself Sir Launcelot, I see well\nby his riding and by his great strokes, and the other knight in the\nsame colour is the good young knight Sir Lavaine. Also that knight with\nthe green shield is my brother Sir Gareth, and yet he hath disguised\nhimself, for no man shall never make him be against Sir Launcelot,\nbecause he made him knight. By my head, said Arthur, nephew, I believe\nyou, therefore tell me now what is your best counsel? Sir, said Sir\nGawaine, ye shall have my counsel. Let blow unto lodging, for, and he\nbe Sir Launcelot du Lake, and my brother Sir Gareth with him, with the\nhelp of that good young knight Sir Lavaine, trust me truly it will be\nno boot to strive with them, but if we should fall ten or twelve upon\none knight, and that were no worship, but shame. Ye say truth, said the\nking, and for to say sooth, said the king, it were shame to us, so many\nas we be, to set upon them any more. For wit ye well, said the king,\nthey be three good knights, and namely that knight with the sleeve of\ngold. So then they blew unto lodging; but forthwithal king Arthur let\nsend unto the four kings, and to the mighty duke, and prayed them that\nthe knight with the sleeve of gold depart not from them, but that the\nking may speak with him. Then forthwithal king Arthur alight, and\nunarmed him, and took a little hackney, and rode after Sir Launcelot,\nfor ever he had a spy upon him; and so he found him among the four\nkings and the duke, and there the king prayed them all unto supper. And\nthey said they would with good will. And so when they were unarmed,\nthen king Arthur knew Sir Launcelot, Sir Lavaine, and Sir Gareth. Ah\nSir Launcelot, said king Arthur, this day ye have heated me and my\nknights. So they went unto Arthur\u2019s lodging all together, and there was\na great feast and great revel, and the prize was given unto Sir\nLauncelot, and by heralds they named him that he had smitten down fifty\nknights, and Sir Gareth five and thirty, and Sir Lavaine four and\ntwenty knights. Then Sir Launcelot told the king and the queen how the\nlady huntress shot him in the forest of Windsor in the thigh with a\nbroad arrow, and how the wound thereof was that time six inches deep,\nand in like long. Also Arthur blamed Sir Gareth, because he left his\nfellowship and held with Sir Launcelot. My lord, said Sir Gareth, he\nmade me a knight, and when I saw him so hard bestad, me thought it was\nmy worship to help him, for I saw him do so much, and so many noble\nknights against him. And when I understood that he was Sir Launcelot du\nLake I shamed to see so many knights against him alone. Truly, said\nking Arthur unto Sir Gareth, ye say well, and worshipfully have ye\ndone, and to yourself great worship, and all the days of my life, said\nking Arthur unto Sir Gareth, wit you well I shall love you and trust\nyou the more better. For ever, said Arthur, it is a worshipful knight\u2019s\ndeed to help another worshipful knight when he seeth him in a great\ndanger, for ever a worshipful man will be loth to see a worshipful\nshamed, and he that is of no worship, and fareth with cowardice, never\nshall he shew gentleness, nor no manner of goodness, where he seeth a\nman in any danger, for then ever will a coward shew no mercy, and\nalways a good man will do ever to another man as he would be done to\nhimself. So then there were great feasts unto kings and dukes; and\nrevel, game, and play, and all manner of nobleness was used; and he\nthat was courteous, true, and faithful to his friend, was that time\ncherished.\n\n\n CHAP. XXV.\n\n_How true love is likened to summer._\n\nAnd thus it passed on from Candlemas until after Easter, that the month\nof May was come, when every lusty heart beginneth to blossom and to\nbring forth fruit; for like as herbs and trees bring forth fruit and\nflourish in May, in likewise every lusty heart, that is in any manner a\nlover, springeth and flourisheth in lusty deeds. For it giveth unto all\nlovers courage, that lusty month of May, in some thing to constrain him\nto some manner of thing, more in that month than in any other month,\nfor divers causes. For then all herbs and trees renew a man and woman,\nand in likewise lovers call again to their mind old gentleness and old\nservice, and many kind deeds that were forgotten by negligence. For\nlike as winter rasure doth always arase and deface green summer, so\nfareth it by unstable love in man and woman. For in many persons there\nis no stability, for we may see all day, for a little blast of winter\u2019s\nrasure, anon we shall deface and lay apart true love for little or\nnought, that cost much thing. This is no wisdom nor stability, but it\nis feebleness of nature and great disworship whosoever useth this.\nTherefore, like as May month flowereth and flourisheth in many gardens,\nso in likewise let every man of worship flourish his heart in this\nworld, first unto God, and next unto the joy of them that he promised\nhis faith unto, for there was never worshipful man nor worshipful\nwoman, but they loved one better than another: and worship in arms may\nnever be foiled, but first reserve the honour to God, and secondly the\nquarrel must come of thy lady: and such love I call virtuous love. But\nnow-a-days men cannot love seven night but they must have all their\ndesires, that love may not endure by reason; for where they be soon\naccorded, and hasty heat, soon it cooleth. Right so fareth love\nnow-a-days; soon hot, soon cold. This is no stability, but the old love\nwas not so. Men and women could love together seven years, and no\nwanton lusts were between them, and then was love truth and\nfaithfulness. And lo in likewise was used love in king Arthur\u2019s days.\nWherefore I liken love now-a-days unto summer and winter. For like as\nthe one is hot and the other cold, so fareth love now-a-days. Therefore\nall ye that be lovers call unto your remembrance the month of May, like\nas did queen Guenever. For whom I make here a little mention, that\nwhile she lived she was a true lover, and therefore she had a good end.\n\n Explicit liber Octodecimus. And here foloweth liber xix.\n\n\n\n\n The Nineteenth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How queen Guenever rode on Maying with certain knights of the Round\n Table and clad all in green._\n\nSo it befell in the month of May, queen Guenever called unto her\nknights of the Table Round, and she gave them warning that early upon\nthe morrow she would ride on maying into woods and fields beside\nWestminster.\u2014And I warn you that there be none of you but that he be\nwell horsed, and that ye all be clothed in green, either in silk,\neither in cloth, and I shall bring with me ten ladies, and every knight\nshall have a lady behind him, and every knight shall have a squire and\ntwo yeomen, and I will that ye all be well horsed. So they made them\nready in the freshest manner, and these were the names of the knights:\nSir Kay the seneschal, Sir Agravaine, Sir Brandiles, Sir Sagramor le\nDesirous, Sir Dodinas le Savage, Sir Ozanna le Cure Hardy, Sir Ladinas\nof the Forest Savage, Sir Persant of Inde, Sir Ironside that was called\nthe knight of the red lawns, and Sir Pelleas the lover, and these ten\nknights made them ready in the freshest manner to ride with the queen.\nAnd so upon the morn they took their horses, with the queen, and rode\non maying in woods and meadows, as it pleased them, in great joy and\ndelights: for the queen had cast to have been again with king Arthur at\nthe furthest by ten of the clock, and so was that time her purpose.\nThen there was a knight, that hight Meliagrance, and he was son unto\nking Bagdemagus, and this knight had at that time a castle, of the gift\nof king Arthur, within seven mile of Westminster; and this knight Sir\nMeliagrance loved passing well queen Guenever, and so had he done long\nand many years. And the book saith he had lain in a wait for to steal\naway the queen, but evermore he forbare for because of Sir Launcelot,\nfor in no wise he would meddle with the queen, and Sir Launcelot were\nin her company, or else and he were near hand her. And that time was\nsuch a custom the queen rode never without a great fellowship of men of\narms about her; and they were many good knights, and the most part were\nyoung men that would have worship, and they were called the queen\u2019s\nknights, and never in no battle, tournament, nor justs, they bare none\nof them no manner of knowledging of their own arms, but plain white\nshields, and thereby they were called the queen\u2019s knights. And then\nwhen it happed any of them to be of great worship by his noble deeds,\nthen at the next feast of Pentecost, if there were any slain or dead,\nas there was no year that there failed but some were dead, then was\nthere chosen in his stead that was dead the most men of worship that\nwere called the queen\u2019s knights. And thus they came up all first, or\nthey were renowned men of worship, both Sir Launcelot and all the\nremnant of them. But this knight, Sir Meliagrance, had espied the queen\nwell and her purpose, and how Sir Launcelot was not with her, and how\nshe had no men of arms with her but the ten noble knights all arrayed\nin green for maying. Then he provided him a twenty men of arms and an\nhundred archers, for to destroy the queen and her knights, for he\nthought that time was the best season to take the queen.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How Sir Meliagraunce took the queen and all her knights, which were\n sore hurt in fighting._\n\nSo as the queen had mayed and all her knights, all were bedashed with\nherbs, mosses, and flowers, in the best manner and freshest. Right so\ncame out of a wood Sir Meliagrance with an eight score men well\nharnessed, as they should fight in a battle of arrest, and bad the\nqueen and her knights abide, for maugre their heads they should abide.\nTraitor knight, said queen Guenever, what castest thou for to do? Wilt\nthou shame thyself? Bethink thee how thou art a king\u2019s son, and knight\nof the Table Round, and thou to be about to dishonour the noble king\nthat made thee knight: thou shamest all knighthood and thyself, and me,\nI let thee wit, shalt thou never shame, for I had lever cut my throat\nin twain than thou shouldest dishonour me. As for all this language,\nsaid Sir Meliagrance, be it as it may, for wit you well, madam, I have\nloved you many a year, and never or now could I get you at such an\nadvantage as I do now, and therefore I will take you as I find you.\nThen spake all the ten noble knights at once, and said, Sir\nMeliagrance, wit thou well ye are about to jeopard your worship to\ndishonour, and also ye cast to jeopard our persons; howbeit we be\nunarmed, ye have us at a great avail, for it seemeth by you that ye\nhave laid watch upon us, but rather then ye should put the queen to\nshame, and us all, we had as lief to depart from our lives, for and if\nwe other ways did we were shamed for ever. Then Sir Meliagrance said,\nDress you as well as ye can, and keep the queen. Then the ten knights\nof the Table Round drew their swords, and the other let run at them\nwith their spears, and the ten knights manly abode them, and smote away\ntheir spears, that no spear did them none harm. Then they lashed\ntogether with swords, and anon Sir Kay, Sir Sagramor, Sir Agravaine,\nSir Dodinas, Sir Ladinas, and Sir Ozanna, were smitten to the earth\nwith grimly wounds. Then Sir Brandiles, and Sir Persant, Sir Ironside,\nSir Pelleas, fought long, and they were sore wounded: for these ten\nknights, or ever they were laid to the ground, slew forty men of the\nboldest and the best of them. So when the queen saw her knights thus\ndolefully wounded, and needs must be slain at the last, then for pity\nand sorrow she cried, Sir Meliagrance, slay not my noble knights, and I\nwill go with thee upon this covenant, that thou save them, and suffer\nthem not to be no more hurt, with this, that they be led with me\nwheresoever thou leadest me; for I will rather slay myself than I will\ngo with thee, unless that these my noble knights may be in my presence.\nMadam, said Meliagrance, for your sake they shall be led with you into\nmine own castle, with that ye will be ruled and ride with me. Then the\nqueen prayed the four knights to leave their fighting, and she and they\nwould not part. Madam, said Sir Pelleas, we will do as ye do, for as\nfor me I take no force of my life nor death. For, as the French book\nsaith, Sir Pelleas gave such buffets there that none armour might hold\nhim.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot had word how the queen was taken, and how Sir\n Meliagraunce laid a bushment for Launcelot._\n\nThen by the queen\u2019s commandment they left battle, and dressed the\nwounded knights on horseback, some sitting, some overthwart their\nhorses, that it was pity to behold them. And then Sir Meliagrance\ncharged the queen and all her knights that none of all her fellowship\nshould depart from her; for full sore he drad Sir Launcelot du Lake,\nlest he should have any knowledging. All this espied the queen, and\nprivily she called unto her a child of her chamber, that was swiftly\nhorsed, to whom she said, Go thou, when thou seest thy time, and bear\nthis ring unto Sir Launcelot du Lake, and pray him as he loveth me,\nthat he will see me, and rescue me if ever he will have joy of me; and\nspare thou not thy horse, said the queen, neither for water, neither\nfor land. So the child espied his time, and lightly he took his horse\nwith the spurs, and departed as fast as he might. And when Sir\nMeliagrance saw him so flee, he understood that it was by the queen\u2019s\ncommandment for to warn Sir Launcelot. Then they that were best horsed\nchased him, and shot at him, but from them all the child went suddenly;\nand then Sir Meliagrance said unto the queen, Madam, ye are about to\nbetray me, but I shall ordain for Sir Launcelot that he shall not come\nlightly at you. And then he rode with her and they all to his castle in\nall the haste that he might. And by the way Sir Meliagrance laid in an\nenbushment the best archers that he might get in his country, to the\nnumber of a thirty, to await upon Sir Launcelot, charging them that if\nthey saw such a manner of knight come by the way upon a white horse,\nthat in any wise they slay his horse, but in no manner of wise have not\nado with him bodily, for he is over hard to be overcome. So this was\ndone, and they were come to his castle, but in no wise the queen would\nnever let none of the ten knights and her ladies out of her sight, but\nalways they were in her presence, for the book saith Sir Meliagrance\ndurst make no masteries for dread of Sir Launcelot, in so much he\ndeemed that he had warning. So when the child was departed from the\nfellowship of Sir Meliagrance, within awhile he came to Westminster.\nAnd anon he found Sir Launcelot. And when he had told his message, and\ndelivered him the queen\u2019s ring, Alas, said Sir Launcelot, now am I\nshamed for ever, unless that I may rescue that noble lady from\ndishonour. Then eagerly he asked his armour, and ever the child told\nSir Launcelot how the ten knights fought marvellously, and how Sir\nPelleas, and Sir Ironside, and Sir Brandiles, and Sir Persant of Inde,\nfought strongly, but namely Sir Pelleas, there might none withstand\nhim, and how they all fought till at the last they were laid to the\nearth, and then the queen made appointment for to save their lives, and\ngo with Sir Meliagrance. Alas, said Sir Launcelot, that most noble\nlady, that she should be so destroyed! I had lever, said Sir Launcelot,\nthan all France that I had been there well armed. So when Sir Launcelot\nwas armed and upon his horse, he prayed the child of the queen\u2019s\nchamber to warn Sir Lavaine how suddenly he was departed, and for what\ncause,\u2014And pray him, as he loveth me, that he will hie him after me,\nand that he stint not until he come to the castle where Sir Meliagrance\nabideth or dwelleth, for there, said Sir Launcelot, shall he hear of me\nand I am a man living, and rescue the queen and the ten knights the\nwhich he traitorously hath taken, and that shall I prove upon his head,\nand all them that hold with him.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot\u2019s horse was slain, and how Sir Launcelot rode in a\n cart for to rescue the queen._\n\nThen Sir Launcelot rode as fast as he might, and the book saith he took\nthe water at Westminster bridge, and made his horse to swim over Thames\nto Lambeth. And then within a while he came to the place there as the\nten knights had fought with Sir Meliagrance, and then Sir Launcelot\nfollowed that track until that he came to a wood, and there was a\nstrait way, and there the thirty archers bad Sir Launcelot turn again,\nand follow no longer that track. What commandment have ye thereto, said\nSir Launcelot, to cause me, that am a knight of the Round Table, to\nleave my right way? This way shalt thou leave, or else thou shalt go it\non thy foot, for wit thou well thy horse shall be slain. That is little\nmastery, said Sir Launcelot, to slay my horse, but as for myself, when\nmy horse is slain, I give right nought for you, not and ye were five\nhundred more. So then they shot Sir Launcelot\u2019s horse, and smote him\nwith many arrows. And then Sir Launcelot avoided his horse, and went on\nfoot: but there were so many ditches and hedges betwixt them and him,\nthat he might not meddle with none of them. Alas, for shame, said\nLauncelot, that ever one knight should betray another knight, but it is\nan old saw, A good man is never in danger but when he is in the danger\nof a coward. Then Sir Launcelot went a while, and then he was foul\ncumbered of his armour, his shield, and his spear, and all that longed\nunto him. Wit ye well he was full sore annoyed, and full loth he was to\nleave any thing that longed unto him, for he drad sore the treason of\nSir Meliagrance. And then by fortune there came by a chariot, that came\nthither for to fetch wood. Say me, carter, said Sir Launcelot, what\nshall I give thee for to suffer me to leap into thy chariot, and that\nthou bring me unto a castle within this two mile? Thou shalt not come\nwithin my chariot, said the carter, for I am sent for to fetch wood for\nmy lord Sir Meliagrance.\u2014With him would I speak.\u2014Thou shalt not go\nwith me, said the carter. Then Sir Launcelot lept to him, and gave him\nsuch a buffet that he fell to the earth stark dead. Then the other\ncarter his fellow was afeard, and wend to have gone the same way, and\nthen he cried, Fair lord, save my life, and I shall bring you where you\nwill. Then I charge thee, said Sir Launcelot, that thou drive me and\nthis chariot, even unto Sir Meliagrance\u2019s gate. Leap up into the\nchariot, said the carter, and ye shall be there anon. So the carter\ndrove on a great wallop, and Sir Launcelot\u2019s horse followed the\nchariot, with more than a forty arrows broad and rough in him: and more\nthan an hour and an half dame Guenever was in a bay window with her\nladies, and espied an armed knight standing in a chariot. See madam,\nsaid a lady, where rideth in a chariot a goodly armed knight, I suppose\nhe rideth unto hanging. Where? said the queen. Then she espied by his\nshield that he was there himself Sir Launcelot du Lake. And then she\nwas ware where came his horse ever after that chariot, and ever he trod\nhis entrails and his paunch under his feet. Alas, said the queen, now I\nsee well and prove that well is him that hath a trusty friend. Ha, a,\nmost noble knight, I see well thou art hard bestad when thou ridest in\na chariot. Then she rebuked that lady that likened Sir Launcelot to\nride in a chariot to hanging. It was foul mouthed, said the queen, and\nevil likened, so for to liken the most noble knight of the world unto\nsuch a shameful death. O Jesu defend him and keep him, said the queen,\nfrom all mischievous end! By this was Sir Launcelot come to the gates\nof that castle, and there he descended down, and cried, that all the\ncastle rang of it, Where art thou, false traitor Sir Meliagrance, and\nknight of the Table Round? Now come forth here thou traitor knight,\nthou and thy fellowship with thee: for here I am, Sir Launcelot du\nLake, that shall fight with you. And therewithal he bare the gate wide\nopen upon the porter, and smote him under his ear with his gauntlet\nthat his neck brast in sunder.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How Sir Meliagraunce required forgiveness of the queen, and how she\n appeased Sir Launcelot, and other matters._\n\nWhen Sir Meliagrance heard that Sir Launcelot was there, he ran unto\nqueen Guenever, and fell upon his knee, and said, Mercy, madam, now I\nput me wholly into your grace. What aileth you now? said queen\nGuenever. Forsooth I might well wit some good knight would revenge me,\nthough my lord Arthur wist not of this your work. Madam, said Sir\nMeliagrance, all this that is amiss on my part shall be amended right\nas yourself will devise, and wholly I put me in your grace. What would\nye that I did? said the queen. I would no more, said Meliagrance, but\nthat ye would take all in your own hands, and that ye will rule my lord\nSir Launcelot, and such cheer as may be made him in this poor castle ye\nand he shall have until to-morn, and then may ye and all they return\nunto Westminster, and my body and all that I have I shall put in your\nrule. Ye say well, said the queen, and better is peace than ever war,\nand the less noise the more is my worship. Then the queen and her\nladies went down unto the knight Sir Launcelot, that stood wroth out of\nmeasure in the inner court, to abide battle; and ever he bade\u2014Thou\ntraitor knight, come forth! Then the queen came to him and said, Sir\nLauncelot, why be ye so moved? Ha, madam, said Sir Launcelot, why ask\nye me that question? me seemeth, said Sir Launcelot, ye ought to be\nmore wroth than I am, for ye have the hurt and the dishonour. For wit\nye well, madam, my hurt is but little, for the killing of a mare\u2019s son;\nbut the despite grieveth me much more than all my hurt. Truly, said the\nqueen, ye say truth, but heartily I thank you, said the queen, but ye\nmust come in with me peaceably, for all thing is put in my hand, and\nall that is evil shall be for the best, for the knight full sore\nrepenteth him of the misadventure that is befallen him. Madam, said Sir\nLauncelot, sith it is so that ye are accorded with him, as for me I may\nnot be against it, howbeit Sir Meliagrance hath done full shamefully to\nme, and cowardly. Ah, madam, and I had wist ye would have been so soon\naccorded with him, I would not have made such haste unto you. Why say\nye so? said the queen, do ye forthink yourself of your good deeds? Wit\nyou well, said the queen, I accorded never unto him for favour nor love\nthat I had unto him, but for to lay down every shameful noise. Madam,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, ye understand full well I was never willing nor\nglad of shameful slander, nor noise; and there is neither king, queen,\nnor knight, that beareth the life, except my lord king Arthur, and you,\nmadam, that should let me, but I should make Sir Meliagrance\u2019s heart\nfull cold or ever I departed from hence. That I wot well, said the\nqueen, but what will ye more? ye shall have all thing ruled as ye list\nto have it. Madam, said Sir Launcelot, so ye be pleased I care not, as\nfor my part ye shall soon please. Right so the queen took Sir Launcelot\nby the bare hand, for he had put off his gauntlet, and so she went with\nhim till her chamber; and then she commanded him to be unarmed, and\nthen Sir Launcelot asked where the ten knights were that were wounded\nsore. So she shewed them unto Sir Launcelot, and there they made great\njoy of the coming of him, and Sir Launcelot made great dole of their\nhurts, and bewailed them greatly; and there Sir Launcelot told them how\ncowardly and traitorly Meliagrance set archers to slay his horse, and\nhow he was fain to put himself in a chariot. Thus they complained every\neach to other, and full fain they would have been revenged, but they\npeaced themself because of the queen. Then, as the French book saith,\nSir Launcelot was called many a day after, Le Chevaler du Chariot, and\ndid many deeds, and great adventures he had. And so leave we of this\ntale, Le Chevaler du Chariot, and turn we to this tale.\n\nSo Sir Launcelot had great cheer with the queen, and then Sir Launcelot\nmade a promise with the queen, that the same night Sir Launcelot should\ncome to a window outward toward a garden, and that window was y-barred\nwith iron; and there Sir Launcelot promised to meet her when all folks\nwere on sleep. So then came Sir Lavaine, driving to the gates, crying,\nWhere is my lord Sir Launcelot du Lake? Then was he sent for, and when\nSir Lavaine saw Sir Launcelot, he said: My lord, I found well how ye\nwere hard bestad, for I have found your horse, that was slain with\narrows. As for that, said Sir Launcelot, I pray you Sir Lavaine speak\nye of other matters, and let ye this pass, and we shall right it\nanother time, when we best may.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot came in the night to the queen, and how Sir\n Meliagraunce appeached the queen of treason._\n\nThen the knights that were hurt were searched, and soft salves were\nlaid to their wounds, and so it passed on till supper time; and all the\ncheer that might be made them there was done unto the queen and all her\nknights. Then when season was they went unto their chambers. But in no\nwise the queen would not suffer the wounded knights to be from her, but\nthat they were laid within draughts by her chamber, upon beds and\npillows, that she herself might see to them, that they wanted nothing.\nSo when Launcelot was in his chamber that was assigned unto him, he\ncalled unto Sir Lavaine, and told him that he must go speak with his\nlady, dame Guenever. Sir, said Sir Lavaine, let me go with you, and it\nplease you, for I dread me sore of the treason of Sir Meliagrance. Nay,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, I thank you, but I will have nobody with me. Then\nSir Launcelot took his sword in his hand, and privily went unto a place\nwhereas he had espied a ladder toforehand, and that he took under his\narm and bare it through the garden, and set it up to the window. And\nthere anon the queen was ready to meet him. And then they made either\nto other their complaints of many divers things. And then Sir Launcelot\nwished that he might have come in to her. Wit ye well, said the queen,\nI would as fain as ye that ye might come in to me. Would ye, madam,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, with your heart that I were with you? Yea truly,\nsaid the queen. Now shall I prove my might, said Sir Launcelot, for\nyour love. And then he set his hands upon the bars of iron, and pulled\nat them with such a might that he brast them clean out of the stone\nwalls. And therewithal one of the bars of iron cut the brawn of his\nhands throughout to the bone, and then he lept into the chamber to the\nqueen. Make ye no noise, said the queen, for my wounded knights lie\nhere fast by me. And when he saw his time that he might tarry no\nlonger, he took his leave and departed at the window, and put it\ntogether as well as he might again, and so departed unto his own\nchamber; and there he told Sir Lavaine how he was hurt; then Sir\nLavaine dressed his hand, and staunched it, and put upon it a glove,\nthat it should not be espied. And so the queen lay long in her bed,\nuntil it was nine of the clock. Then Sir Meliagrance went to the\nqueen\u2019s chamber, and found her ladies there ready clothed. Mercy, said\nSir Meliagrance, what aileth you, madam, that ye sleep thus long? And\nthen was he ware of the blood of Sir Launcelot\u2019s hurt hand. And when\nSir Meliagrance espied that blood, then he deemed in himself that she\nwas false unto the king, and that it was the blood of some of the\nwounded knights. Ah, madam, said Sir Meliagrance, now I have founden\nyou a false traitress unto my lord Arthur; for now I prove well it was\nnot for nought that ye laid these wounded knights within the bounds of\nyour chamber: therefore I will call you of treason before my lord king\nArthur, and now I have proved you, madam, with a shameful deed, and\nthat they be all false, or some of them, I will make good, for a\nwounded knight hath been here. That is false, said the queen, and that\nI will report me to them all. Then when the ten knights heard Sir\nMeliagrance\u2019s words, they spake all in one voice and said unto Sir\nMeliagrance, Thou sayest falsely, and wrongfully puttest upon us such a\ndeed, and that we will make good any of us, choose which thou list of\nus, when we are whole of our wounds. Ye shall not, said Sir\nMeliagrance, away with your proud language, for here ye may all see\nthat a wounded knight hath been here. Then were they all ashamed when\nthey saw that blood, and wit you well Sir Meliagrance was passing glad\nthat he had the queen at such an advantage, for he deemed by that to\nhide his treason. So with this rumour came in Sir Launcelot, and found\nthem all at a great array.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot answered for the queen, and waged battle against Sir\n Meliagraunce. And how Sir Launcelot was taken in a trap._\n\nWhat array is this? said Sir Launcelot. Then Sir Meliagrance told him\nwhat he had found, and shewed him the blood. Truly, said Sir Launcelot,\nye did not your part nor knightly toward the queen, and therefore have\nye done unworshipfully and shamefully to yourself. I wot not what ye\nmean, said Sir Meliagrance, but well I am sure there hath been one of\nher wounded knights here, and therefore I will prove with my hands that\nshe is a traitress unto my lord Arthur. Beware what ye do, said Sir\nLauncelot, for and ye say so, and that ye will prove it, it will be\ntaken at your hands. My lord Sir Launcelot, said Sir Meliagrance, I\nrede you beware what ye do, for though ye are never so good a knight,\nas ye wot well that ye are renowned the best knight of the world, yet\nshould ye be advised to do battle in a wrong quarrel, for God will have\na stroke in every battle. As for that, said Sir Launcelot, God is to be\ndread. But as to that I say nay plainly, that this night none of these\nten wounded knights was here with my lady queen Guenever, and that will\nI prove with my hands, that ye say untruly in that now. Hold, said Sir\nMeliagrance, here is my glove, that she is traitress unto my lord king\nArthur, and that one of the wounded knights was here. And I receive\nyour glove, said Sir Launcelot. And so they were sealed with their\nsignets, and delivered unto the ten knights. At what day shall we do\nbattle together? said Sir Launcelot. This day eight days, said Sir\nMeliagrance, in the field beside Westminster. I am agreed, said Sir\nLauncelot. But now, said Sir Meliagrance, sithen it is that we must\nfight together, I beseech you, as ye are a noble knight, await me with\nno treason, nor none villainy the meanwhile, nor none for you. So God\nme help, said Sir Launcelot, ye shall right well wit I was never of no\nsuch conditions, for I report me to all knights that ever have known\nme, I fared never with no treason, nor I loved never the fellowship of\nno man that fared with treason. Then let us go to dinner, said\nMeliagrance, and after dinner ye and the queen and ye may ride all to\nWestminster. I will well, said Sir Launcelot. And Sir Meliagrance said\nto Sir Launcelot, Pleaseth it you to see the eftures of this castle?\nWith a good will, said Sir Launcelot. And then they went together from\nchamber to chamber, for Sir Launcelot dread no perils. For ever a man\nof worship and of prowess dreadeth least always perils: for they ween\nevery man be as they be. But ever he that fareth with treason putteth\noft a man in great danger. So it befell upon Sir Launcelot that no\nperil dread. As he went with Sir Meliagrance, he trod on a trap, and\nthe board rolled, and therewith Sir Launcelot fell down more than ten\nfathom into a cave full of straw. And then Sir Meliagrance departed,\nand made no fare as that he nist where he was. And when Sir Launcelot\nwas thus missed, they marvelled where he was become. And then queen\nGuenever and many of them deemed that he was departed as he was wont to\ndo, suddenly. For Sir Meliagrance made suddenly to put away on side Sir\nLavaine\u2019s horse, that they might all understand that Sir Launcelot was\ndeparted suddenly. So it past on till after dinner, and then Sir\nLavaine would not stint until that he ordained litters for the wounded\nknights, that they might be laid in them, and so with the queen and\nthem all, both ladies and gentlewomen and other, went unto Westminster,\nand there the knights told king Arthur how Meliagrance had appealed the\nqueen of high treason, and how Sir Launcelot had received the glove of\nhim, and this day eight days they shall do battle afore you. By my\nhead, said king Arthur, I am afeard Sir Meliagrance hath taken upon him\na great charge. But where is Sir Launcelot? said the king. Sir, said\nthey all, we wot not where he is, but we deem he is ridden to some\nadventures, as he is ofttimes wont to do, for he hath Sir Lavaine\u2019s\nhorse. Let him be, said the king, he will be founden, but if he be\ntrapped with some treason.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot was delivered out of prison by a lady, and took a\n white courser, and came for to keep his day._\n\nSo leave we Sir Launcelot, lying within that cave in great pain, and\nevery day there came a lady and brought him his meat and his drink, and\nwooed him to love her. And ever the noble knight Sir Launcelot said her\nnay. Sir Launcelot, said she, ye are not wise, for ye may never out of\nthis prison but if ye have my help, and also your lady queen Guenever\nshall be burnt in your default, unless that ye be there at the day of\nbattle. God defend, said Sir Launcelot, that she should be burnt in my\ndefault: and if it be so, said Sir Launcelot, that I may not be there,\nit shall be well understood both at the king and at the queen, and with\nall men of worship, that I am dead, sick, or in prison. For all men\nthat know me will say for me that I am in some evil case, and I be not\nthere that day, and well I wot there is some good knight, either of my\nblood, or some other that loveth me, that will take my quarrel in hand:\nand, therefore, said Sir Launcelot, wit ye well ye shall not fear me.\nAnd if there were no more women in all this land but you, I would not\nsay otherwise. Then art thou shamed, said the lady, and destroyed for\never. As for world\u2019s shame, Jesu defend me; and as for my distress, it\nis welcome, whatsoever it be that God sendeth me. So she came to him\nthe same day that the battle should be, and said, Sir Launcelot, me\nthinketh ye are too hard-hearted, but wouldest thou but kiss me once I\nshould deliver thee and thine armour, and the best horse that is within\nSir Meliagrance\u2019s stable. As for to kiss you, said Sir Launcelot, I may\ndo that, and lose no worship, and wit ye well, and I understood there\nwere any disworship for to kiss you, I would not do it. Then he kissed\nher, and then she gat him and brought him to his armour. And when he\nwas armed, she brought him to a stable, where stood twelve good\ncoursers, and bad him choose the best. Then Sir Launcelot looked upon a\nwhite courser, the which liked him best, and anon he commanded the\nkeepers fast to saddle him with the best saddle of war that there was,\nand so it was done as he bade. Then gat he his spear in his hand, and\nhis sword by his side, and commanded the lady unto God, and said, Lady,\nfor this good deed I shall do you service if ever it be in my power.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot came the same time that Sir Meliagraunce abode him\n in the field, and dressed him to battle._\n\nNow leave we Sir Launcelot gallop all that he might, and speak we of\nqueen Guenever that was brought to a fire to be burnt, for Sir\nMeliagrance was sure, him thought, that Sir Launcelot should not be at\nthat battle, therefore he ever cried upon king Arthur to do him\njustice, or else bring forth Sir Launcelot du Lake. Then was the king\nand all the court full sore abashed and shamed that the queen should be\nburnt in the default of Sir Launcelot. My lord Arthur, said Sir\nLavaine, ye may understand that it is not well with my lord Sir\nLauncelot, for and he were on live, so that he be not sick or in\nprison, wit ye well he would be here, for never heard ye that ever he\nfailed his part for whom he should do battle for. And therefore, said\nSir Lavaine, my lord king Arthur, I beseech you give me licence to do\nbattle here this day for my lord and master, and for to save my lady\nthe queen. Gramercy, gentle knight, Sir Lavaine, said king Arthur, for\nI dare say all that Sir Meliagrance putteth upon my lady the queen is\nwrong, for I have spoken with all the ten wounded knights, and there is\nnot one of them, and he were whole and able to do battle, but he would\nprove upon Sir Meliagrance\u2019s body that it is false that he putteth upon\nmy queen. So shall I, said Sir Lavaine, in the defence of my lord Sir\nLauncelot, and ye will give me leave. Now I give you leave, said king\nArthur, and do your best, for I dare well say there is some treason\ndone to Sir Launcelot. Then was Sir Lavaine horsed, and suddenly at the\nlist\u2019s end he rode to perform this battle. And right as the heralds\nshould cry Lesses les aler, right so came in Sir Launcelot driving with\nall the force of his horse. And then Arthur cried, Ho! and Abide! Then\nwas Sir Launcelot called on horseback tofore king Arthur, and there he\ntold openly tofore the king and all, how Sir Meliagrance had served him\nfirst and last. And when the king and the queen and all the lords knew\nof the treason of Sir Meliagrance, they were all ashamed on his behalf.\nThen was queen Guenever sent for, and set by the king in great trust of\nher champion. And then there was no more else to say, but Sir Launcelot\nand Sir Meliagrance dressed them unto battle, and took their spears,\nand so they came together as thunder, and there Sir Launcelot bare him\ndown quite over his horse croup. And then Sir Launcelot alight, and\ndressed his shield on his shoulder with his sword in his hand, and Sir\nMeliagrance in the same wise dressed him unto him, and there they smote\nmany great strokes together, and at the last Sir Launcelot smote him\nsuch a buffet upon the helmet, that he fell on the one side to the\nearth, and then he cried upon him aloud, Most noble knight, Sir\nLauncelot du Lake, save my life, for I yield me unto you, and I beseech\nyou, as ye be a knight and fellow of the Table Round, slay me not, for\nI yield me as overcomen, and whether I shall live or die I put me in\nthe king\u2019s hands and yours. Then Sir Launcelot wist not what to do, for\nhe had lever than all the good of the world he might have been revenged\nupon Sir Meliagrance; and Sir Launcelot looked toward queen Guenever if\nhe might espy by any sign or countenance what she would have done. And\nthen the queen wagged her head upon Sir Launcelot, as though she would\nsay slay him. Full well knew Sir Launcelot by the wagging of her head\nthat she would have had him dead: then Sir Launcelot bad him rise for\nshame, and perform that battle to the utterance. Nay, said Sir\nMeliagrance, I will never arise until ye take me as yielden and\nrecreant. I shall proffer you large proffers, said Sir Launcelot, that\nis to say, I shall unarm my head and my left quarter of my body, all\nthat may be unarmed, and let bind my left hand behind me, so that it\nshall not help me, and right so I shall do battle with you. Then Sir\nMeliagrance start up upon his legs, and said on high, My lord Arthur,\ntake heed to this proffer, for I will take it, and let him be disarmed\nand bounden according to his proffer. What say ye, said king Arthur\nunto Sir Launcelot, will ye abide by your proffer? Yea, my lord, said\nSir Launcelot, I will never go from that I have once said. Then the\nknights parters of the field disarmed Sir Launcelot, first his head,\nand sithen his left arm and his left side, and they bound his left arm\nbehind his back, without shield or anything, and then they were put\ntogether. Wit you well there was many a lady and knight marvelled that\nSir Launcelot would jeopardy himself in such wise. Then Sir Meliagrance\ncame with his sword all on high, and Sir Launcelot shewed him openly\nhis bare head and the bare left side. And when he wend to have smitten\nhim upon the bare head, then lightly he avoided the left leg and the\nleft side, and put his right hand and his sword to that stroke, and so\nput it on side with great sleight, and then with great force Sir\nLauncelot smote him on the helmet such a buffet that the stroke carved\nthe head in two parts. Then there was no more to do but he was drawn\nout of the field. And at the great instance of the knights of the Table\nRound the king suffered him to be interred, and the mention made upon\nhim who slew him, and for what cause he was slain. And then the king\nand the queen made more of Sir Launcelot, and more he was cherished,\nthan ever he was aforehand.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How Sir Urre came into Arthur\u2019s court for to be healed of his wounds,\n and how king Arthur would begin to handle him._\n\nThen, as the French book maketh mention, there was a good knight in the\nland of Hungary, his name was Sir Urre, and he was an adventurous\nknight, and in all places where he might hear of any deeds of worship,\nthere would he be. So it happened in Spain there was an earl\u2019s son, his\nname was Alphegus, and at a great tournament in Spain this Sir Urre,\nknight of Hungary, and Sir Alphegus of Spain, encountered together for\nvery envy, and so either undertook other to the utterance, and by\nfortune Sir Urre slew Sir Alphegus, the earl\u2019s son of Spain. But this\nknight that was slain had given Sir Urre, or ever he was slain, seven\ngreat wounds, three on the head, and four on his body and upon his left\nhand. And this Sir Alphegus had a mother, the which was a great\nsorceress, and she, for the despite of her son\u2019s death, wrought by her\nsubtile crafts that Sir Urre should never be whole, but ever his wounds\nshould one time fester and another time bleed, so that he should never\nbe whole, until the best knight of the world had searched his wounds,\nand thus she made her avaunt, where through it was known that Sir Urre\nshould never be whole. Then his mother let make an horse-litter, and\nput him therein under two palfreys, and then she took Sir Urre\u2019s sister\nwith him, a full fair damsel, whose name was Felelolie, and then she\ntook a page with him to keep their horses, and so they led Sir Urre\nthrough many countries. For, as the French book saith, she led him so\nseven year through all lands christened, and never she could find no\nknight that might ease her son. So she came into Scotland, and into the\nlands of England, and by fortune she came nigh the feast of Pentecost\nuntil Arthur\u2019s court, that at that time was holden at Carlisle. And\nwhen she came there, then she made it openly to be known how that she\nwas come into that land for to heal her son.\n\nThen king Arthur let call the lady, and asked her the cause why she\nbrought that hurt knight into that land. My most noble king, said that\nlady, wit you well I brought him hither for to be healed of his wounds,\nthat of all this seven year he might not be whole. And then she told\nthe king where he was wounded, and of whom, and how his mother had\ndiscovered in her pride how she had wrought that by enchantment, so\nthat he should never be whole until the best knight of the world had\nsearched his wounds:\u2014And so I have passed through all the lands\nchristened to have him healed, except this land: and if I fail to heal\nhim here in this land, I will never take more pain upon me, and that is\npity, for he was a good knight, and of great nobleness. What is his\nname? said Arthur. My good and gracious lord, she said, his name is Sir\nUrre of the Mount. In good time, said the king, and sith ye are come\ninto this land ye are right welcome. And wit you well here shall your\nson be healed, and ever any christian man may heal him. And for to give\nall other men of worship courage I myself will assay to handle your\nson, and so shall all the kings, dukes, and earls that be here present\nwith me at this time; thereto will I command them, and well I wot they\nshall obey and do after my commandment. And wit you well, said king\nArthur unto Urre\u2019s sister, I shall begin to handle him and search unto\nmy power, not presuming upon me that I am so worthy to heal your son by\nmy deeds, but I will encourage other men of worship to do as I will do.\nAnd then the king commanded all the kings, dukes, and earls, and all\nnoble knights of the Round Table that were there that time present, to\ncome into the meadow of Carlisle. And so at that time there were but an\nhundred and ten of the Round Table, for forty knights were that time\naway. And so here we must begin at king Arthur, as is kindly to begin\nat him that was the most man of worship that was christened at that\ntime.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How king Arthur handled Sir Urre, and after him many other knights of\n the Round Table._\n\nThen king Arthur looked upon Sir Urre, and the king thought he was a\nfull likely man when he was whole. And king Arthur made him to be taken\ndown off the litter, and laid him upon the earth, and there was laid a\ncushion of gold that he should kneel upon. And then Arthur said, Noble\nfair knight, me repenteth of thy hurt, and for to courage all other\nnoble knights I will pray thee softly to suffer me to handle your\nwounds. Most noble christened king, said Urre, do as ye list, for I am\nat the mercy of God, and at your commandment. So then Arthur softly\nhandled him, and then some of his wounds renewed upon bleeding. Then\nthe king Clariance of Northumberland searched, and it would not be. And\nthen Sir Barant le Apres, that was called the king with the hundred\nknights, he assayed, and failed; and so did king Urience, of the land\nof Gore. So did king Anguissance of Ireland; so did king Nentres of\nGarloth; so did king Carados of Scotland; so did the duke Galahalt, the\nhaut prince; so did Constantine, that was Sir Carados\u2019s son, of\nCornwall; so did duke Chalance of Clarance; so did the earl Ulbause; so\ndid the earl Lambaile; so did the earl Aristause. Then came in Sir\nGawaine, with his three sons, Sir Gingalin, Sir Florence, and Sir\nLovel; these two were begotten upon Sir Brandiles\u2019s sister; and all\nthey failed. Then came in Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, Sir Mordred, and\nthe good knight Sir Gareth, which was of very knighthood worth all the\nbrethren. So came knights of Launcelot\u2019s kin, but Sir Launcelot was not\nthat time in the court, for he was that time upon his adventures. Then\nSir Lionel, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Blamor de Ganis,\nSir Bleoberis de Ganis, Sir Gahalantine, Sir Galihodin, Sir Menadeuke,\nSir Villiars the valiant, Sir Hebes le Renoumes. All these were of Sir\nLauncelot\u2019s kin, and all they failed. Then came in Sir Sagramor le\nDesirous, Sir Dodinas le Savage, Sir Dinadan, Sir Bruin le Noire, that\nSir Kay named la Cote Male Taile, and Sir Kay the seneschal, Sir Kay de\nStranges, Sir Meliot de Logris, Sir Petipase of Winchelsea, Sir\nGalleron of Galway, Sir Melion of the mountain, Sir Cardok, Sir Uwaine\nles Avoutres, and Sir Ozanna le Cure Hardy. Then came in Sir Astamore,\nand Sir Gromere, Grummor\u2019s son, Sir Crosselme, Sir Servause le Breuse,\nthat was called a passing strong knight. For, as the book saith, the\nchief Lady of the lake feasted this Sir Launcelot, and Sir Servause le\nBreuse, and when she had feasted them both at sundry times, she prayed\nthem to give her a boon, and they granted it her, and then she prayed\nSir Servause that he would promise her never to do battle against Sir\nLauncelot du Lake; and in the same wise she prayed Sir Launcelot never\nto do battle against Sir Servause; and so either promised her. For the\nFrench book saith that Sir Servause had never courage nor lust to do\nbattle against no man, but if it were against giants, and against\ndragons, and wild beasts. So we pass unto them that, at the king\u2019s\nrequest, made them all that were there at that high feast, as of the\nknights of the Table Round, for to search Sir Urre: to that intent the\nking did it, to wit which was the noblest knight among them.\n\nThen there came Sir Aglovale, Sir Durnore, Sir Tor, and king Pellinore\nbegat them all, first, Sir Tor, Sir Aglovale, Sir Durnore, Sir Lamorak,\nthe most noblest knight, one that ever was in Arthur\u2019s days as for a\nworldly knight, and Sir Percivale that was peerless, except Sir\nGalahad, in holy deeds, but they died in the quest of the Sancgreal.\nThen came Sir Griflet le Fise de Dieu, Sir Luca the botteler, Sir\nBedivere his brother, Sir Brandiles, Sir Constantine, Sir Cador\u2019s son\nof Cornwall, that was king after Arthur\u2019s days, and Sir Clegis, Sir\nSadok, Sir Dinas le seneschal of Cornwall, Sir Fergus, Sir Driant, Sir\nLambegus, Sir Clarrus of Cleremont, Sir Cloddrus, Sir Hectimere, Sir\nEdward of Carnarvan, Sir Dinas, Sir Priamus, that was christened by Sir\nTristram the noble knight, and these three were brethren; Sir Hellaine\nle Blank, that was son unto Sir Bors and king Brandegoris\u2019s daughter,\nand Sir Brian de Listinoise; Sir Gautere, Sir Reynold, Sir Gillemere,\nwere three brethren that Sir Launcelot won upon a bridge in Sir Kay\u2019s\narms. Sir Guiart le Petite, Sir Bellangere le Beuse, that was son to\nthe good knight Sir Alisander le Orphelin, that was slain by the\ntreason of king Mark. Also that traitor king slew the noble knight Sir\nTristram, as he sat harping afore his lady La Beale Isoud, with a\ntrenchant glaive, for whose death was much bewailing of every knight\nthat ever were in Arthur\u2019s days: there were never none so bewailed as\nwas Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorak, for they were traitorously slain, Sir\nTristram by king Mark, and Sir Lamorak by Sir Gawaine and his brethren.\nAnd this Sir Bellangere revenged the death of his father Alisander, and\nSir Tristram, slew king Mark, and La Beale Isoud died, swooning upon\nthe cross of Sir Tristram, whereof was great pity. And all that were\nwith king Mark, that were consenting to the death of Sir Tristram, were\nslain, as Sir Andred, and many other. Then came Sir Hebes, Sir\nMorganore, Sir Sentraile, Sir Suppinabiles, Sir Bellangere le Orgulous,\nthat the good knight Sir Lamorak wan in plain battle; Sir Nerovens, and\nSir Plenorius, two good knights that Sir Launcelot wan; Sir Darras, Sir\nHarry le Fise Lake, Sir Erminide, brother to king Hermance for whom Sir\nPalamides fought at the red city with two brethren; and Sir Selises of\nthe dolorous tower, Sir Edward of Orkney, and Sir Ironside, that was\ncalled the noble knight of the red lawns, that Sir Gareth wan for the\nlove of dame Liones; Sir Arrok de Grevant, Sir Degrane Sance Vilany,\nthat fought with the giant of the black lowe; Sir Epinogris, that was\nthe king\u2019s son of Northumberland; Sir Pelleas, that loved the lady\nEttard, and he had died for her love, had not been one of the ladies of\nthe lake, her name was dame Nimue, and she wedded Sir Pelleas, and she\nsaved him that he was never slain, and he was a full noble knight; and\nSir Lamiel of Cardiff, that was a great lover; Sir Plaine de Force, Sir\nMeleaus de Lile, Sir Bobart le Cure Hardy, that was king Arthur\u2019s son,\nSir Mador de la Porte, Sir Colgrevance, Sir Hervise de la Forest\nSavage, Sir Marrok, the good knight that was betrayed with his wife,\nfor she made him seven year a werwolf; Sir Persant, Sir Pertilope his\nbrother, that was called the green knight, and Sir Perimones, brother\nto them both, that was called the red knight, that Sir Gareth wan when\nhe was called Beaumains. All these hundred knights and ten searched Sir\nUrre\u2019s wounds, by the commandment of king Arthur.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot was commanded by Arthur to handle his wounds, and\n anon he was all whole, and how they thanked God._\n\nMercy, said king Arthur, where is Sir Launcelot du Lake, that he is not\nhere at this time? Thus as they stood and spake of many things, there\nwas espied Sir Launcelot, that came riding toward them, and told the\nking. Peace, said the king, let no manner thing be said until he be\ncome to us. So when Sir Launcelot espied king Arthur he descended from\nhis horse, and came to the king, and saluted him, and them all. Anon as\nthe maid, Sir Urre\u2019s sister, saw Sir Launcelot, she ran to her brother\nthere as he lay in his litter, and said, Brother, here is come a knight\nthat my heart giveth greatly unto. Fair sister, said Sir Urre, so doth\nmy heart light against him, and certainly I hope now to be healed, for\nmy heart giveth unto him more than to all these that have searched me.\nThen said king Arthur unto Sir Launcelot, Ye must do as we have done;\nand told Sir Launcelot what they had done, and shewed him them all that\nhad searched him. Heaven defend me, said Sir Launcelot, when so many\nkings and knights have assayed and failed, that I should presume upon\nme to achieve that all ye my lords might not achieve. Ye shall not\nchoose, said king Arthur, for I will command you for to do as we all\nhave done. My most renowned lord, said Sir Launcelot, ye know well I\ndare not nor may not disobey your commandment, but and I might or\ndurst, wit you well I would not take upon me to touch that wounded\nknight, to that intent that I should pass all other knights; heaven\ndefend me from that shame. Ye take it wrong, said king Arthur, ye shall\nnot do it for no presumption, but for to bear us fellowship, insomuch\nye be a fellow of the Table Round, and wit you well, said king Arthur,\nand ye prevail not and heal him, I dare say there is no knight in this\nland may heal him, and therefore I pray you do as we have done. And\nthen all the kings and knights for the most part prayed Sir Launcelot\nto search him, and then the wounded knight Sir Urre set him up weakly,\nand prayed Sir Launcelot heartily, saying, Courteous knight, I require\nthee for God\u2019s sake heal my wounds, for me thinketh, ever sithen ye\ncame here my wounds grieve me not. Ah my fair lord, said Sir Launcelot,\nJesu would that I might help you, I shame me sore that I should be thus\nrebuked, for never was I able in worthiness to do so high a thing. Then\nSir Launcelot kneeled down by the wounded knight, saying, My lord\nArthur, I must do your commandment, the which is sore against my heart.\nAnd then he held up his hands, and looked into the east, saying\nsecretly unto himself, Thou blessed Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I\nbeseech thee of thy mercy, that my simple worship and honesty be saved,\nand thou, blessed Trinity, thou mayest give power to heal this sick\nknight, by thy great virtue and grace of thee, but, good Lord, never of\nmyself. And then Sir Launcelot prayed Sir Urre to let him see his head;\nand then, devoutly kneeling, he ransacked the three wounds, that they\nbled a little, and forthwith all the wounds fair healed, and seemed as\nthey had been whole a seven year. And in likewise he searched his body\nof other three wounds, and they healed in likewise. And then the last\nof all he searched the which was in his hand, and, anon, it healed\nfair. Then king Arthur, and all the kings and knights, kneeled down,\nand gave thanks and lovings unto God, and to his blessed mother, and\never Sir Launcelot wept as he had been a child that had been beaten.\nThen king Arthur let array priests and clerks in the most devoutest\nmanner, to bring in Sir Urre within Carlisle, with singing and loving\nto God. And when this was done, the king let clothe him in the richest\nmanner that could be thought; and then were but few better made knights\nin all the court, for he was passingly well made and bigly: and Arthur\nasked Sir Urre how he felt himself. My good lord, he said, I felt\nmyself never so lusty. Will ye just, and do deeds of arms? said king\nArthur. Sir, said Sir Urre, and I had all that longed unto justs, I\nwould soon be ready.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_How there was a party made of an hundred knights against an hundred\n knights, and of other matters._\n\nThen king Arthur made a party of hundred knights to be against an\nhundred knights. And so, upon the morn, they justed for a diamond; but\nthere justed none of the dangerous knights; and so, for to shorten this\ntale, Sir Urre and Sir Lavaine justed best that day, for there was none\nof them but he overthrew and pulled down thirty knights; and then, by\nthe assent of all the kings and lords, Sir Urre and Sir Lavaine were\nmade knights of the Table Round. And Sir Lavaine cast his love to dame\nFelelolie, Sir Urre\u2019s sister, and then they were wedded together with\ngreat joy, and king Arthur gave to every each of them a barony of\nlands. And this Sir Urre would never go from Sir Launcelot, but he, and\nSir Lavaine, awaited evermore upon him; and they were in all the court\naccounted for good knights, and full desirous in arms; and many noble\ndeeds they did, for they would have no rest, but ever sought\nadventures. Thus they lived in the court, with great nobleness and joy,\nlong time. But every night and day Sir Agravaine, Sir Gawaine\u2019s\nbrother, awaited queen Guenever and Sir Launcelot du Lake, to put them\nto a rebuke and shame. And so leave I here of this tale, and overskip\ngreat books of Sir Launcelot du Lake, what great adventures he did when\nhe was called Le Chevaler du Chariot. For, as the French book saith,\nbecause of despite that knights and ladies called him the knight that\nrode in the chariot, as he were judged to the gallows; therefore, in\ndespite of all them that named him so, he was carried in a chariot a\ntwelve month, for but little after that he had slain Sir Meliagrance in\nthe queen\u2019s quarrel, he never in a twelve month came on horseback. And,\nas the French book saith, he did that twelve month more than forty\nbattles. And because I have lost the very matter of Le Chevaler du\nChariot, I depart from the tale of Sir Launcelot, and here I go unto\nthe Morte of king Arthur, and that caused Sir Agravaine.\n\n Explicit liber xix.\n\n And here after foloweth the moost pytous history of the morte of\n kynge Arthur, the whiche is the xx. book.\n\n\n\n\n The Twentieth Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred were busy upon Sir Gawaine for to\n disclose the love between Sir Launcelot and queen Guenever._\n\nIn May, when every lusty heart flourisheth and burgeneth; for as the\nseason is lusty to behold and comfortable, so man and woman rejoice and\ngladden of summer coming with his fresh flowers: for winter, with his\nrough winds and blasts, causeth a lusty man and woman to cower and sit\nfast by the fire. So in this season, as in the month of May, it befell\na great anger and unhap that stinted not till the flower of chivalry of\nall the world was destroyed and slain: and all was long upon two\nunhappy knights, the which were named Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred\nthat were brethren unto Sir Gawaine. For this Sir Agravaine and Sir\nMordred had ever a privy hate unto the queen dame Guenever, and to Sir\nLauncelot, and daily and nightly they ever watched upon Sir Launcelot.\nSo it mis-happed Sir Gawaine and all his brethren were in king Arthur\u2019s\nchamber, and then Sir Agravaine said thus openly, and not in no\ncounsel, that many knights might hear it, I marvel that we all be not\nashamed both to see and to know how Sir Launcelot goeth with the queen,\nand all we know it so, and it is shamefully suffered of us all, that we\nall should suffer so noble a king as king Arthur is so to be shamed.\nThen spake Sir Gawaine, and said, Brother, Sir Agravaine, I pray you,\nand charge you, move no such matters no more afore me; for wit ye well,\nsaid Sir Gawaine, I will not be of your counsel. Truly, said Sir\nGaheris and Sir Gareth, we will not be knowing, brother Agravaine, of\nyour deeds. Then will I, said Sir Mordred. I believe well that, said\nSir Gawaine, for ever, unto all unhappiness, brother Sir Mordred,\nthereto will ye grant, and I would that ye left all this, and made you\nnot so busy, for I know, said Sir Gawaine, what will fall of it. Fall\nof it what fall may, said Sir Agravaine, I will disclose it to the\nking. Not by my counsel, said Sir Gawaine, for and there rise war and\nwrake betwixt Sir Launcelot and us, wit you well, brother, there will\nmany kings and great lords hold with Sir Launcelot. Also, brother Sir\nAgravaine, said Sir Gawaine, ye must remember how ofttimes Sir\nLauncelot hath rescued the king and the queen, and the best of us all\nhad been full cold at the heart-root, had not Sir Launcelot been better\nthan we; and that hath he proved himself full oft. And as for my part,\nsaid Sir Gawaine, I will never be against Sir Launcelot, for one day\u2019s\ndeed, when he rescued me from king Carados of the dolorous tower, and\nslew him, and saved my life. Also, brother Sir Agravaine, and Sir\nMordred, in likewise Sir Launcelot rescued you both, and three-score\nand two, from Sir Turquin. Me thinketh, brother, such kind deeds and\nkindness should be remembered. Do as ye list, said Sir Agravaine, for I\nwill hide it no longer. With these words came to them king Arthur. Now,\nbrother, stint your noise, said Sir Gawaine. We will not, said Sir\nAgravaine and Sir Mordred. Will ye so? said Sir Gawaine, then God speed\nyou, for I will not hear your tales, nor be of your counsel. No more\nwill I, said Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris, for we will never say evil by\nthat man: for because, said Sir Gareth, Sir Launcelot made me knight,\nby no manner ought I to say ill of him. And therewithal they three\ndeparted, making great dole. Alas, said Sir Gawaine and Sir Gareth, now\nis this realm wholly mischieved, and the noble fellowship of the Round\nTable shall be dispersed. So they departed.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How Sir Agravaine disclosed their love to king Arthur, and how king\n Arthur gave them licence to take him._\n\nAnd then Sir Arthur asked them what noise they made. My lord, said\nAgravaine, I shall tell you that I may keep no longer. Here is I and my\nbrother, Sir Mordred, brake unto my brother Sir Gawaine, Sir Gaheris,\nand to Sir Gareth, how this we know all, that Sir Launcelot holdeth\nyour queen, and hath done long, and we be your sister\u2019s sons, and we\nmay suffer it no longer; and all we wot that ye should be above Sir\nLauncelot, and ye are the king that made him knight, and, therefore, we\nwill prove it that he is a traitor to your person. If it be so, said\nSir Arthur, wit you well he is none other, but I would be loth to begin\nsuch a thing, but I might have proofs upon it; for Sir Launcelot is an\nhardy knight, and all ye know he is the best knight among us all, and,\nbut if he be taken with the deed, he will fight with him that bringeth\nup the noise, and I know no knight that is able to match him.\nTherefore, and it be sooth as ye say, I would he were taken with the\ndeed. For, as the French book saith, the king was full loth thereto,\nthat any noise should be upon Sir Launcelot and his queen; for the king\nhad a deeming, but he would not hear of it, for Sir Launcelot had done\nso much for him and for the queen so many times, that, wit ye well, the\nking loved him passingly well. My lord, said Sir Agravaine, ye shall\nride to-morrow on hunting, and doubt ye not, Sir Launcelot will not go\nwith you. Then when it draweth toward night, ye may send the queen word\nthat ye will lie out all that night, and so may ye send for your cooks;\nand then, upon pain of death, we shall take him with the queen, and\neither we shall bring him to you dead or quick. I will well, said the\nking, then I counsel you, said the king, take with you sure fellowship.\nSir, said Agravaine, my brother, Sir Mordred, and I will take with us\ntwelve knights of the Round Table. Beware, said king Arthur, for I warn\nyou ye shall find him wight. Let us deal, said Sir Agravaine and Sir\nMordred. So on the morn, king Arthur rode on hunting, and sent word to\nthe queen that he would be out all that night. Then Sir Agravaine and\nSir Mordred gat to them twelve knights, and did themselves in a\nchamber, in the castle of Carlisle, and these were their names: Sir\nColgrevance, Sir Mador de la Porte, Sir Gingaline, Sir Meliot de\nLogris, Sir Petipase of Winchelsea, Sir Galleron of Galway, Sir Melion\nof the mountain, Sir Astamore, Sir Gromore Somir Joure, Sir Curselaine,\nSir Florence, Sir Lovel. So these twelve knights were with Sir Mordred\nand Sir Agravaine. And all they were of Scotland, either of Sir\nGawaine\u2019s kin, either well willers to his brethren. So when the night\ncame, Sir Launcelot told Sir Bors how he would go that night, and speak\nwith the queen. Sir, said Sir Bors, ye shall not go this night, by my\ncounsel. Why? said Sir Launcelot. Sir, said Sir Bors, I dread me ever\nof Sir Agravaine, that waiteth you daily, to do you shame, and us all,\nand never gave my heart against no going that ever ye went to the\nqueen, so much as now, for I mistrust that the king is out this night\nfrom the queen, because, peradventure, he hath lain some watch for you\nand the queen, and therefore I dread me sore of treason. Have ye no\ndread, said Sir Launcelot, for I shall go, and come again, and make no\ntarrying. Sir, said Sir Bors, that me sore repenteth, for I dread me\nsore that your going out this night shall wrath us all. Fair nephew,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, I marvel me much why ye say thus, sithen the queen\nhath sent for me, and wit ye well that I will not be so much a coward,\nbut she shall understand I will see her good grace. God speed you well,\nsaid Sir Bors, and send you sound and safe again.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot was espied in the queen\u2019s chamber, and how Sir\n Agravaine and Sir Mordred came with twelve knights to slay him._\n\nSo Sir Launcelot departed, and took his sword under his arm, and so in\nhis mantle that noble knight put himself in great jeopardy, and so he\npassed till he came to the queen\u2019s chamber. And then, as the French\nbook saith, there came Sir Agravaine, and Sir Mordred, with twelve\nknights with them of the Round Table, and they said with crying voice,\nTraitor knight, Sir Launcelot du Lake, now art thou taken. And thus\nthey cried with a loud voice that all the court might hear it: and they\nall fourteen were armed at all points as they should fight in a battle.\nAlas, said queen Guenever, now are we mischieved both. Madam, said Sir\nLauncelot, is there here any armour within your chamber that I might\ncover my poor body withal, and if there be any, give it me, and I shall\nsoon stint their malice. Truly, said the queen, I have none armour,\nshield, sword, nor spear, wherefore I dread me sore our long love is\ncome to a mischievous end; for, I hear by their noise, there be many\nnoble knights, and well I wot they be surely armed, against them ye may\nmake no resistance; wherefore ye are likely to be slain, and then shall\nI be burnt. For, and ye might escape them, said the queen, I would not\ndoubt but that ye would rescue me in what danger that ever I stood in.\nAlas, said Sir Launcelot, in all my life was I never bested that I\nshould be thus shamefully slain for lack of mine armour. But ever in\none Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred cried, Traitor knight, come out of\nthe queen\u2019s chamber, for wit thou well thou art so beset that thou\nshalt not escape. Oh mercy, said Sir Launcelot, this shameful cry and\nnoise I may not suffer, for better were death at once, than thus to\nendure this pain. Then he took the queen in his arms, and kissed her,\nand said, Most noble christian queen, I beseech you, as ye have ever\nbeen my special good lady, and I at all times your true poor knight\nunto my power, and as I never failed you in right nor in wrong, since\nthe first day that king Arthur made me knight, that ye will pray for my\nsoul if that I here be slain. For well I am well assured that Sir Bors\nmy nephew and all the remnant of my kin, with Sir Lavaine and Sir Urre,\nthat they will not fail you to rescue you from the fire, and therefore,\nmine own lady, recomfort yourself whatsoever come of me, that ye go\nwith Sir Bors my nephew, and Sir Urre, and they all will do you all the\npleasure that they can or may, that ye shall live like a queen upon my\nlands. Nay, Launcelot, said the queen, wit thou well I will never live\nafter thy days, but, and thou be slain, I will take my death as meekly\nfor Jesu Christ\u2019s sake, as ever did any Christian queen. Well, madam,\nsaid Launcelot, sith it is so that the day is come that our love must\ndepart, wit you well I shall sell my life as dear as I may, and a\nthousand fold, said Sir Launcelot, I am more heavier for you than for\nmyself. And now I had lever than to be lord of all Christendom, that I\nhad sure armour upon me, that men might speak of my deeds or ever I\nwere slain. Truly, said the queen, I would and it might please God that\nthey would take me and slay me, and suffer you to escape. That shall\nnever be, said Sir Launcelot. God defend me from such a shame, but Jesu\nbe thou my shield and mine armour.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot slew Sir Colgrevance, and armed him in his harness,\n and after slew Sir Agravaine and twelve of his fellows._\n\nAnd therewith Sir Launcelot wrapped his mantle about his arm well and\nsurely; and by then they had gotten a great form out of the hall, and\ntherewithal they rashed at the door. Fair lords, said Sir Launcelot,\nleave your noise and your rashing, and I shall set open this door, and\nthen may ye do with me what it liketh you. Come off then, said they\nall, and do it, for it availeth thee not to strive against us all, and\ntherefore let us into this chamber, and we shall save thy life until\nthou come to king Arthur. Then Launcelot unbarred the door, and with\nhis left hand he held it open a little so that but one man might come\nin at once. And so anon, there came striding a good knight, a much man\nand large, and his name was Colgrevance of Gore, and he with a sword\nstrake at Sir Launcelot mightily, and he put aside the stroke, and gave\nhim such a buffet upon the helmet that he fell groveling dead within\nthe chamber door, and then Sir Launcelot with great might drew that\ndead knight within the chamber door; and then Sir Launcelot with the\nhelp of the queen and her ladies was lightly armed in Sir Colgrevance\u2019s\narmour. And ever stood Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred, crying, Traitor\nknight, come out of the queen\u2019s chamber. Leave your noise, said Sir\nLauncelot unto Sir Agravaine, for wit ye well, Sir Agravaine, ye shall\nnot prison me this night, and therefore and ye do by my counsel, go ye\nall from this chamber door, and make not such crying and such manner of\nslander as ye do, for I promise you by my knighthood, and ye will\ndepart and make no more noise, I shall as to-morn appear before you\nall, before the king, and then let it be seen which of you all, and\neither else ye all, will accuse me of treason, and there I shall answer\nyou as a knight should, that hither I came to the queen for no manner\nof mal-engine, and that will I prove and make it good upon you with\nmine hands. Fie on thee traitor, said Sir Agravaine and Sir Mordred, we\nwill have thee, maugre thy head, and slay thee if we list, for we let\nthee wit, we have the choice of king Arthur, to save thee or to slay\nthee. Ah sirs, said Sir Launcelot, is there none other grace with you?\nthen keep yourself. So then Sir Launcelot set all open the chamber\ndoor, and mightily and knightly he strode in amongst them, and anon at\nthe first buffet he slew Sir Agravaine, and twelve of his fellows\nwithin a little while after he laid them cold to the earth, for there\nwas none of the twelve that might stand Sir Launcelot one buffet. Also\nSir Launcelot wounded Sir Mordred, and he fled with all his might. And\nthen Sir Launcelot returned again unto the queen, and said, Madam, now\nwit you well all our true love is brought to an end, for now will king\nArthur ever be my foe, and therefore, madam, and it like you that I may\nhave you with me, I shall save you from all manner adventures\ndangerous. That is not best, said the queen, me seemeth now ye have\ndone so much harm, it will be best ye hold you still with this. And if\nye see that as to-morn they will put me unto the death, then may ye\nrescue me as ye think best. I will well, said Sir Launcelot, for have\nye no doubt while I am living I shall rescue you. And then he kissed\nher, and either gave other a ring, and so there he left the queen and\nwent until his lodging.\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot came to Sir Bors and told him how he had sped, and\n in what adventure he had been, and how he escaped._\n\nWhen Sir Bors saw Sir Launcelot, he was never so glad of his home\ncoming as he was then. Mercy, said Sir Launcelot, why be ye all armed?\nWhat meaneth this? Sir, said Sir Bors, after that ye were departed from\nus, we all that be of your blood, and your well willers, were so\ntroubled, that some of us lept out of our beds naked, and some in their\ndreams caught naked swords in their hands, therefore, said Sir Bors, we\ndeem there is some great strife at hand; and then we all deemed that ye\nwere betrapped with some treason, and therefore we made us thus ready,\nwhat need that ever ye were in. My fair nephew, said Sir Launcelot unto\nSir Bors, now shall ye wit all, that this night I was more harder\nbested than ever I was in my life, and yet I escaped. And so he told\nthem all how, and in what manner, as ye have heard tofore. And\ntherefore my fellows, said Sir Launcelot, I pray you all that ye will\nbe of good heart in what need soever I stand, for now is war come to us\nall. Sir, said Sir Bors, all is welcome that God sendeth us, and we\nhave had much weal with you and much worship, and therefore we will\ntake the woe with you as we have taken the weal. And therefore they\nsaid all, there were many good knights, Look ye take no discomfort, for\nthere nis no band of knights under heaven but that we shall be able to\ngrieve them as much as they may us. And therefore discomfort not\nyourself by no manner, and ye shall gather together that we love, and\nthat loveth us, and what that ye will have done shall be done. And\ntherefore, Sir Launcelot, said they, we will take the woe with the\nweal. Gramercy, said Sir Launcelot, of your good comfort, for in my\ngreat distress, my fair nephew, ye comfort me greatly, and much I am\nbeholden unto you. But this, my fair nephew, I would that ye did in all\nhaste that ye may, or it be forth-days, that ye will look in their\nlodging that been lodged here nigh about the king, which will hold with\nme, and which will not, for now I would know which were my friends from\nmy foes. Sir, said Sir Bors, I shall do my pain, and, or it be seven of\nthe clock, I shall wit of such as ye have said before, who will hold\nwith you.\n\nThen Sir Bors called unto him Sir Lionel, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir\nBlamor de Ganis, Sir Bleoberis de Ganis, Sir Gahalantine, Sir\nGalihodin, Sir Galihud, Sir Menadeuke, with Sir Villiers the Valiant,\nSir Hebes le Renoumes, Sir Lavaine, Sir Urre of Hungary, Sir Nerouneus,\nSir Plenorius: these two knights Sir Launcelot made, and the one he wan\nupon a bridge, and therefore they would never be against him. And Sir\nHarry le Fise du Lake and Sir Selises of the dolorous tower, and Sir\nMelias de Lile, and Sir Bellangere le Beuse, which was Sir Alisaunder\u2019s\nle Orphelin\u2019s son, because his mother, dame Alis le Beale Pilgrim, and\nshe was kin unto Sir Launcelot, and he held with him. So there came Sir\nPalamides, and Sir Safere his brother, to hold with Sir Launcelot, and\nSir Clegis of Sadok, and Sir Dinas, Sir Clarius of Cleremont. So these\ntwo and twenty knights drew them together; and by then they were armed\non horseback, and promised Sir Launcelot to do what he would. Then\nthere fell to them, what of Northgalis and of Cornwall, for Sir\nLamorak\u2019s sake and for Sir Tristram\u2019s sake, to the number of a\nfourscore knights.\n\nMy lords, said Sir Launcelot, wit you well I have been, ever since I\ncame into this country, well willed unto my lord king Arthur, and unto\nmy lady queen Guenever, unto my power, and this night, because my lady\nthe queen sent for me to speak with her, I suppose it was made by\ntreason, howbeit I dare largely excuse her person, notwithstanding I\nwas there by a forecast nigh slain, but, as God provided me, I escaped\nall their malice and treason. And then that noble knight, Sir\nLauncelot, told them all how he was hard bested in the queen\u2019s chamber,\nand how and in what manner he escaped from them. And therefore, said\nSir Launcelot, wit you well, my fair lords, I am sure there nis but war\nunto me and mine. And for because I have slain this night these\nknights, I wot well as is Sir Agravaine Sir Gawaine\u2019s brother, and at\nthe least twelve of his fellows, for this cause now I am sure of mortal\nwar, for these knights were sent and ordained by king Arthur to betray\nme, and therefore the king will in this heat and malice judge the queen\nto the fire, and that may I not suffer, that she should be burnt for my\nsake. For, and I may be heard and suffered, and so taken, I will fight\nfor the queen, that she is a true lady unto her lord. But the king in\nhis heat I dread me will not take me as I ought to be taken.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_Of the counsel and advice which was taken by Sir Launcelot and by his\n friends for to save the queen._\n\nMy lord Sir Launcelot, said Sir Bors, by mine advice ye shall take the\nwoe with the weal, and take it in patience, and thank God of it. And\nsithen it is fallen as it is, I counsel you keep yourself, for, and ye\nwill yourself, there is no fellowship of knights christened that shall\ndo you wrong. Also I will counsel you, my lord Sir Launcelot, that and\nmy lady queen Guenever be in distress, insomuch as she is in pain for\nyour sake, that ye knightly rescue her: and ye did other ways, all the\nworld will speak of you shame to the world\u2019s end, insomuch as ye were\ntaken with her, whether ye did right or wrong. It is now your part to\nhold with the queen, that she be not slain and put to a mischievous\ndeath, for, and she so die, the shame shall be yours. Jesu defend me\nfrom shame, said Sir Launcelot, and keep and save my lady the queen\nfrom villainy and shameful death, and that she never be destroyed in my\ndefault: wherefore, my fair lords, my kin and my friends, what will ye\ndo? Then they said all, We will do as ye will do. I put this to you,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, that if my lord Arthur by evil counsel will to-morn\nin his heat put my lady the queen to the fire, there to be burnt,\u2014now,\nI pray you, counsel me what is best to do? Then they said all at once\nwith one voice, Sir, us thinketh best, that ye knightly rescue the\nqueen; insomuch as she shall be burnt, it is for your sake, and it is\nto suppose, and ye might be handled, ye should have the same death, or\na more shamefuller death; and, sir, we say all, that ye have many times\nrescued her from death for other men\u2019s quarrels, us seemeth it is more\nyour worship that ye rescue the queen from this peril, insomuch she\nhath it for your sake.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot stood still, and said, My fair lords, wit you well,\nI would be loth to do that thing that should dishonour you or my blood,\nand wit you well, I would be loth that my lady the queen should die a\nshameful death, but and it be so that ye will counsel me to rescue her,\nI must do much harm or I rescue her, and peradventure I shall there\ndestroy some of my best friends, that should much repent me: and\nperadventure there be some, and they could well bring it about, or\ndisobey my lord king Arthur, they would soon come to me, the which I\nwere loth to hurt: and if so be that I rescue her, where shall I keep\nher? That shall be the least care of us all, said Sir Bors: how did the\nnoble knight Sir Tristram by your good will? Kept not he with him La\nBeale Isoud near three year in Joyous Gard, the which was done by your\nelders\u2019 device, and that same place is your own, and in likewise may ye\ndo, and ye list, and take the queen lightly away, if it so be the king\nwill judge her to be burnt, and in Joyous Gard ye may keep her long\nenough, until the heat of the king be past. And then shall ye bring\nagain the queen to the king with great worship, and then, peradventure,\nye shall have thank for her bringing home, and love and thank where\nother shall have maugre. That is hard to do, said Sir Launcelot, for by\nSir Tristram I may have a warning. For when by means of treaties Sir\nTristram brought again La Beale Isoud unto king Mark from Joyous Gard,\nlook what befell on the end, how shamefully that false traitor king\nMark slew him as he sat harping afore his lady La Beale Isoud, with a\ngrounden glaive he thrust him in behind to the heart. It grieveth me,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, to speak of his death, for all the world may not\nfind such a knight. All this is truth, said Sir Bors, but there is one\nthing shall courage you and us all: ye know well that king Arthur and\nking Mark were never like of conditions, for there was never yet man\nthat could prove king Arthur untrue of his promise. So, to make short\ntale, they were all consented that for better or for worse, if so were\nthat the queen were on that morn brought to the fire, shortly they all\nwould rescue her. And so by the advice of Sir Launcelot they put them\nall in an enbushment in a wood as nigh Carlisle as they might. And\nthere they abode still to wit what the king would do.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_How Sir Mordred rode hastily to the king to tell him of the affray and\n death of Sir Agravaine and the other knights._\n\nNow turn we again unto Sir Mordred, that when he was escaped from the\nnoble knight Sir Launcelot, he anon gat his horse and mounted upon him,\nand rode unto king Arthur, sore wounded and smitten, and all for-bled.\nAnd there he told the king all how it was, and how they were all slain\nsave himself all only. Mercy, how may this be, said the king; took ye\nhim in the queen\u2019s chamber? Yea, truly, said Sir Mordred, there we\nfound him unarmed, and there he slew Colgrevance, and armed him in his\narmour. And all this he told the king, from the beginning to the\nending. Ah, mercy, said the king, he is a marvellous knight of prowess.\nAlas, me sore repenteth, said the king, that ever Sir Launcelot should\nbe against me. Now I am sure the noble fellowship of the Round Table is\nbroken for ever, for with him will many a noble knight hold: and now it\nis fallen so, said the king, that I may not with my worship but the\nqueen must suffer the death. So then there was made great ordinance in\nthis heat, that the queen must be judged to the death. And the law was\nsuch in those days, that whatsoever they were, of what estate or\ndegree, if they were found guilty of treason, there should be none\nother remedy but death, and either the men or the taking with the deed\nshould be causer of their hasty judgment. And right so was it ordained\nfor queen Guenever, because Sir Mordred was escaped sore wounded, and\nthe death of thirteen knights of the Round Table:\u2014these proofs and\nexperiences caused king Arthur to command the queen to the fire, there\nto be burnt. Then spake Sir Gawaine and said: My lord Arthur, I would\ncounsel you not to be over hasty, but that ye would put it in respite,\nthis judgment of my lady the queen, for many causes. One it is, though\nit were so that Sir Launcelot were found in the queen\u2019s chamber, yet it\nmight be that he came thither for none evil, for ye know, my lord, said\nSir Gawaine, that the queen is much beholden unto Sir Launcelot, more\nthan unto any other knight, for oft-times he hath saved her life, and\ndone battle for her when all the court refused the queen, and,\nperadventure, she sent for him for goodness and for none evil, to\nreward him for his good deeds that he had done to her in time past.\nAnd, peradventure, my lady the queen sent for him to that intent that\nSir Launcelot should come to her good grace privily and secretly,\nweening to her that it was best so to do, in eschewing and dreading of\nslander. For oft-times we do many things that we ween it be for the\nbest, and yet, peradventure, it turneth to the worst. For I dare say,\nsaid Sir Gawaine, that my lady your queen is to you both good and true.\nAnd as for Sir Launcelot, said Sir Gawaine, I dare say he will make it\ngood upon any knight living that will put upon himself villainy or\nshame, and in likewise he will make good for my lady dame Guenever.\nThat I believe well, said king Arthur, but I will not that way with Sir\nLauncelot, for he trusteth so much upon his hands and his might that he\ndoubteth no man, and therefore for my queen he shall never fight more,\nfor she shall have the law. And if I may get Sir Launcelot, wit ye well\nhe shall have a shameful death. Jesu defend, said Sir Gawaine, that I\nmay never see it. Why say ye so? said king Arthur, for sooth ye have no\ncause to love Sir Launcelot, for this night last past he slew your\nbrother Sir Agravaine, a full good knight, and also almost he had slain\nyour other brother Sir Mordred; and also there he slew thirteen noble\nknights; and also, Sir Gawaine, remember ye he slew two sons of yours,\nSir Florence and Sir Lovel. My lord, said Sir Gawaine, of all this I\nhave knowledge, of whose deaths I repent me sore, but insomuch I gave\nthem warning, and told my brethren and my sons aforehand, what would\nfall in the end, insomuch they would not do by my counsel I will not\nmeddle me thereof, nor revenge me nothing of their deaths, for I told\nthem it was no bote to strive with Sir Launcelot; howbeit I am sorry of\nthe death of my brethren and of my sons, for they are the causers of\ntheir own death. For oft-times I warned my brother Sir Agravaine, and I\ntold him the perils the which be now fallen.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot and his kinsmen rescued the queen from the fire, and\n how he slew many knights._\n\nThen said the noble king Arthur to Sir Gawaine, Dear nephew, I pray you\nmake you ready in your best armour, with your brethren Sir Gaheris and\nSir Gareth, to bring my queen to the fire, there to have her judgment,\nand receive the death. Nay, my most noble lord, said Sir Gawaine, that\nwill I never do, for, wit you well, I will never be in that place where\nso noble a queen as is my lady dame Guenever shall take a shameful end.\nFor wit you well, said Sir Gawaine, my heart will never serve me to see\nher die, and it shall never be said that even I was of your counsel of\nher death. Then, said the king to Sir Gawaine, suffer your brothers Sir\nGaheris and Sir Gareth to be there. My lord, said Sir Gawaine, wit you\nwell they will be loth to be there present, because of many adventures\nthe which be like there to fall, but they are young and full unable to\nsay you nay. Then spake Sir Gaheris and the good knight Sir Gareth unto\nSir Arthur, Sir, ye may well command us to be there, but wit you well\nit shall be sore against our will; but and we be there by your strait\ncommandment, ye shall plainly hold us there excused, we will be there\nin peaceable wise, and bear none harness of war upon us. In the name of\nGod, said the king, then make you ready, for she shall soon have her\njudgment anon. Alas, said Sir Gawaine, that ever I should endure to see\nthis woefull day. So Sir Gawaine turned him, and wept heartily, and so\nhe went into his chamber, and then the queen was led forth without\nCarlisle, and there she was despoiled into her smock. And so then her\nghostly father was brought to her, to be shriven of her misdeeds. Then\nwas there weeping, and wailing, and wringing of hands, of many lords\nand ladies. But there were but few in comparison that would bear any\narmour for to strength the death of the queen. Then was there one that\nSir Launcelot had sent unto that place for to espy what time the queen\nshould go unto her death. And anon, as he saw the queen despoiled into\nher smock, and so shriven, then he gave Sir Launcelot warning. Then was\nthere but spurring and plucking up of horses, and right so they came to\nthe fire, and who that stood against them, there they were slain, there\nmight none withstand Sir Launcelot, so all that bare arms and withstood\nthem, there were they slain\u2014full many a noble knight. For there was\nslain Sir Belias le Orgulous, Sir Segwarides, Sir Griflet, Sir\nBrandiles, Sir Aglovale, Sir Tor, Sir Gauter, Sir Gillimer, Sir\nReynold\u2019s three brethren, Sir Damas, Sir Priamus, Sir Kay the stranger,\nSir Driant, Sir Lambegus, Sir Herminde, Sir Pertilope, Sir Perimones,\ntwo brethren, that were called the green knight and the red knight. And\nso in this rashing and hurling as Sir Launcelot thrang here and there,\nit mishapped him to slay Gaheris and Sir Gareth, the noble knight, for\nthey were unarmed and unaware, for, as the French book saith, Sir\nLauncelot smote Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris upon the brain pans, where\nthrough they were slain in the field, howbeit in very truth Sir\nLauncelot saw them not, and so were they found dead among the thickest\nof the press. Then when Sir Launcelot had thus done and slain, and put\nto flight all that would withstand him, then he rode straight unto dame\nGuenever, and made a kirtle and a gown to be cast upon her, and then he\nmade her to be set behind him, and prayed her to be of good cheer. Wit\nyou well the queen was glad that she was escaped from the death, and\nthen she thanked God and Sir Launcelot. And so he rode his way with the\nqueen, as the French book saith, unto Joyous Gard, and there he kept\nher as a noble knight should do, and many great lords and some kings\nsent Sir Launcelot many good knights, and many noble knights drew unto\nSir Launcelot. When this was known openly, that king Arthur and Sir\nLauncelot were at debate, and many were full heavy of their debate.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_Of the sorrow and lamentation of king Arthur for the death of his\n nephews and other good knights, and also for the queen his wife._\n\nSo turn we again unto king Arthur, that when it was told him how, and\nin what manner of wise the queen was taken away from the fire, and when\nhe heard of the death of his noble knights, and in especial for Sir\nGaheris\u2019 and Sir Gareth\u2019s death, then the king swooned for pure sorrow.\nAnd when he awoke of his swoon, then he said, Alas that ever I bare\ncrown upon my head, for now have I lost the fairest fellowship of noble\nknights that ever held Christian king together. Alas, my good knights\nbe slain away from me, now within these two days I have lost forty\nknights, and also the noble fellowship of Sir Launcelot and his blood,\nfor now I may never hold them together no more with my worship. Alas,\nthat ever this war began. Now, fair fellows, said the king, I charge\nyou that no man tell Sir Gawaine of the death of his two brethren, for\nI am sure, said the king, when Sir Gawaine heareth tell that Sir Gareth\nis dead, he will go nigh out of his mind. Mercy, said the king, why\nslew he Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris! for I dare say as for Sir Gareth he\nloved Sir Launcelot above all men earthly. That is truth, said some\nknights, but they were slain in the hurtling, as Sir Launcelot thrang\nin the thick of the press, and as they were unarmed he smote them, and\nwist not whom that he smote, and so unhappily they were slain. The\ndeath of them, said Arthur, will cause the greatest mortal war that\never was. I am sure, wist Sir Gawaine that Sir Gareth were slain, I\nshould never have rest of him till I had destroyed Sir Launcelot\u2019s kin\nand himself both, or else he to destroy me; and therefore, said the\nking, wit you well my heart was never so heavy as it is now, and much\nmore I am sorrier for my good knights\u2019 loss, than for the loss of my\nfair queen, for queens I might have enow, but such a fellowship of good\nknights shall never be together in no company; and now I dare say, said\nking Arthur, that there was never Christian king held such a fellowship\ntogether, and alas that ever Sir Launcelot and I should be at debate.\nAh, Agravaine, Agravaine, said the king, Jesu forgive it thy soul, for\nthine evil will, that thou and thy brother Sir Mordred haddest unto Sir\nLauncelot, hath caused all this sorrow. And ever among these complaints\nthe king wept and swooned.\n\nThen there came one unto Sir Gawaine, and told him how the queen was\nled away with Sir Launcelot, and nigh a twentyfour knights slain. O\nJesu defend my brethren, said Sir Gawaine, for full well wist I that\nSir Launcelot would rescue her, or else he would die in that field; and\nto say the truth he had not been a man of worship, had he not rescued\nthe queen that day, in so much she should have been burnt for his sake:\nand as in that, said Sir Gawaine, he hath done but knightly, and as I\nwould have done myself, and I had stood in like case. But where are my\nbrethren? said Sir Gawaine, I marvel I hear not of them. Truly, said\nthat man, Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris be slain. Jesu defend, said Sir\nGawaine, for all the world I would not that they were slain, and in\nespecial my good brother Sir Gareth. Sir, said the man, he is slain,\nand that is great pity. Who slew him? said Sir Gawaine. Sir, said the\nman, Launcelot slew them both. That may I not believe, said Sir\nGawaine, that he slew my brother Sir Gareth, for I dare say my brother\nGareth loved him better than me and all his brethren, and the king\nboth. Also I dare say, and Sir Launcelot had desired my brother Sir\nGareth with him, he would have been with him against the king and us\nall, and therefore I may never believe that Sir Launcelot slew my\nbrother. Sir, said this man, it is noised that he slew him.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How king Arthur at the request of Sir Gawaine concluded to make war\n against Sir Launcelot, and laid siege to his castle called Joyous\n Gard._\n\nAlas, said Sir Gawaine, now is my joy gone. And then he fell down and\nswooned, and long he lay there as he had been dead. And then when he\narose of his swoon, he cried out sorrowfully and said, Alas! And right\nso Sir Gawaine ran to the king crying and weeping, O king Arthur, mine\nuncle, my good brother Sir Gareth is slain, and so is my brother Sir\nGaheris, the which were two noble knights. Then the king wept and he\nboth, and so they fell on swooning. And when they were revived, then\nspake Sir Gawaine, Sir, I will go see my brother Sir Gareth. Ye may not\nsee him, said the king, for I caused him to be interred, and Sir\nGaheris both; for I well understood that ye would make over much\nsorrow, and the sight of Sir Gareth should have caused your double\nsorrow. Alas, my lord, said Sir Gawaine, how slew he my brother Sir\nGareth? mine own good lord, I pray you tell me. Truly, said the king, I\nshall tell you as it is told me, Sir Launcelot slew him and Sir Gaheris\nboth. Alas, said Sir Gawaine, they bare none arms against him, neither\nof them both. I wot not how it was, said the king, but, as it is said,\nSir Launcelot slew them both in the thickest of the press, and knew\nthem not; and therefore let us shape a remedy for to revenge their\ndeaths. My king, my lord, and mine uncle, said Sir Gawaine, wit you\nwell, now I shall make you a promise that I shall hold by my\nknighthood, that from this day I shall never fail Sir Launcelot, until\nthe one of us have slain the other: and therefore I require you, my\nlord and king, dress you to the war, for wit you well I will be\nrevenged upon Sir Launcelot, and therefore, as ye will have my service\nand my love, now haste you thereto, and assay your friends. For I\npromise unto God, said Sir Gawaine, for the death of my brother Sir\nGareth I shall seek Sir Launcelot throughout seven kings\u2019 realms but I\nshall slay him, or else he shall slay me. Ye shall not need to seek him\nso far, said the king, for, as I hear say, Sir Launcelot will abide me\nand you in the Joyous Gard, and much people draweth unto him as I hear\nsay. That may I believe, said Sir Gawaine, but my lord, he said, assay\nyour friends, and I will assay mine. It shall be done, said the king,\nand, as I suppose, I shall be big enough to draw him out of the biggest\ntower of his castle. So then the king sent letters and writs throughout\nall England, both in the length and the breadth, for to assummon all\nhis knights. And so unto Arthur drew many knights, dukes, and earls, so\nthat he had a great host. And when they were assembled, the king\ninformed them all how Sir Launcelot had bereft him his queen. Then the\nking and all his host made them ready to lay siege about Sir Launcelot,\nwhere he lay within Joyous Gard. Thereof heard Sir Launcelot, and\npurveyed him of many good knights, for with him held many knights, and\nsome for his own sake, and some for the queen\u2019s sake. Thus they were on\nboth parties well furnished and garnished of all manner of things that\nlonged to the war. But king Arthur\u2019s host was so big that Sir Launcelot\nwould not abide him in the field, for he was full loth to do battle\nagainst the king; but Sir Launcelot drew him to his strong castle with\nall manner of victual, and as many noble men as he might suffice within\nthe town and the castle. Then came king Arthur with Sir Gawaine, with\nan huge host, and laid a siege all about Joyous Gard, both at the town\nand at the castle, and there they made strong war on both parties. But\nin no wise Sir Launcelot would ride out nor go out of his castle of\nlong time, neither he would none of his good knights to issue out,\nneither none of the town nor of the castle, until fifteen weeks were\npast.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_Of the communication between king Arthur and Sir Launcelot, and how\n king Arthur reproved him._\n\nThen it befell upon a day in harvest time, Sir Launcelot looked over\nthe walls, and spake on high unto king Arthur and Sir Gawaine, My lords\nboth, wit ye well all is in vain that ye make at this siege, for here\nwin ye no worship, but maugre and dishonour, for and it list me to come\nmyself out, and my good knights, I should full soon make an end of this\nwar. Come forth, said Arthur unto Launcelot, and thou darest, and I\npromise thee I shall meet thee in midst of the field. God defend me,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, that ever I should encounter with the most noble\nking that made me knight. Fie upon thy fair language, said the king,\nfor wit you well, and trust it, I am thy mortal foe, and ever will to\nmy death day, for thou hast slain my good knights and full noble men of\nmy blood, that I shall never recover again: also thou hast dishonoured\nmy queen, and holden her many winters, and sithen like a traitor taken\nher from me by force. My most noble lord and king, said Sir Launcelot,\nye may say what ye will, for ye wot well with yourself I will not\nstrive, but there as ye say I have slain your good knights, I wot well\nthat I have done so, and that me sore repenteth, but I was enforced to\ndo battle with them, in saving of my life, or else I must have suffered\nthem to have slain me. And as for my lady queen Guenever, except your\nperson of your highness, and my lord Sir Gawaine, there is no knight\nunder heaven that dare make it good upon me, that ever I was traitor\nunto your person. And where it pleaseth you to say that I have holden\nmy lady your queen years and winters, unto that I shall make a large\nanswer, and prove it upon any knight that beareth the life, except your\nperson and Sir Gawaine, that my lady queen Guenever is a true lady unto\nyour person, as any is living unto her lord, and that will I make good\nwith my hands; howbeit, it hath liked her good grace to have me in\ncharity, and to cherish me more than any other knight, and unto my\npower I again have deserved her love, for oft-times, my lord, ye have\nconsented that she should be burnt and destroyed in your heat, and then\nit fortuned me to do battle for her, and or I departed from her\nadversary they confessed their untruth, and she full worshipfully\nexcused. And at such times, my lord Arthur, said Sir Launcelot, ye\nloved me, and thanked me when I saved your queen from the fire, and\nthen ye promised me for ever to be my good lord, and now me thinketh ye\nreward me full ill for my good service; and, my good lord, me seemeth I\nhad lost a great part of my worship in my knighthood, and I had\nsuffered my lady your queen to have been burnt, and insomuch she should\nhave been burnt for my sake. For sithen I have done battles for your\nqueen in other quarrels than in mine own, me seemeth now I had more\nright to do battle for her in right quarrel, and therefore my good and\ngracious lord, said Sir Launcelot, take your queen unto your good\ngrace, for she is both fair, true, and good. Fie on thee, false\nrecreant knight, said Sir Gawaine, I let thee wit my lord mine uncle\nking Arthur shall have his queen and thee, maugre thy visage, and slay\nyou both whether it please him. It may well be, said Sir Launcelot, but\nwit ye well, my lord Sir Gawaine, and me list to come out of this\ncastle, ye should win me and the queen more harder than ever ye wan a\nstrong battle. Fie on thy proud words, said Sir Gawaine; as for my lady\nthe queen, I will never say of her shame, but thou false and recreant\nknight, said Sir Gawaine, what cause hadst thou to slay my good brother\nSir Gareth, that loved thee more than all my kin? Alas, thou madest him\nknight with thine own hands; why slewest thou him that loved thee so\nwell? For to excuse me, said Sir Launcelot, it helpeth me not, but by\nthe faith that I owe to the high order of knighthood, I should with as\ngood will have slain my nephew Sir Bors de Ganis at that time: but\nalas, that ever I was so unhappy, said Launcelot, that I had not seen\nSir Gareth and Sir Gaheris. Thou liest, recreant knight, said Sir\nGawaine, thou slewest him in despite of me: and therefore wit thou well\nI shall make war to thee, and all the while that I may live. That me\nrepenteth, said Sir Launcelot, for well I understand it helpeth me not\nto seek none accordment, while ye Sir Gawaine are so mischievously set.\nAnd if ye were not, I would not doubt to have the good grace of my lord\nArthur. I believe it well, false recreant knight, said Sir Gawaine, for\nthou hast many long days overled me, and us all, and destroyed many of\nour good knights. Ye say as it pleaseth you, said Sir Launcelot, and\nyet may it never be said on me and openly proved, that ever I before\ncast of treason, slew no good knight, as, my lord Sir Gawaine, ye have\ndone. And so did I never, but in my defence, that I was driven thereto,\nin saving of my life. Ah, false knight, said Sir Gawaine, that thou\nmeanest by Sir Lamorak: wit thou well I slew him. Ye slew him not\nyourself, said Sir Launcelot, it had been over much on hand for you to\nhave slain him, for he was one of the best knights christened of his\nage, and it was great pity of his death.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How the cousins and kinsmen of Sir Launcelot excited him to go out to\n battle, and how they made them ready._\n\nWell, well, said Sir Gawaine to Sir Launcelot, sithen thou upbraidest\nme of Sir Lamorak, wit thou well I shall never leave thee till I have\nthee at such avail that thou shalt not escape my hands. I trust you\nwell enough, said Sir Launcelot, and ye may get me I shall get but\nlittle mercy. But, as the French book saith, the noble king Arthur\nwould have taken his queen again, and have been accorded with Sir\nLauncelot, but Sir Gawaine would not suffer him by no manner of mean.\nAnd then Sir Gawaine made many men to blow upon Sir Launcelot, and all\nat once they called him False recreant knight! Then when Sir Bors de\nGanis, Sir Ector de Maris, and Sir Lionel heard this outcry, they\ncalled to them Sir Palamides, Sir Safere\u2019s brother, and Sir Lavaine,\nwith many more of their blood, and all they went unto Sir Launcelot,\nand said thus, My lord Sir Launcelot, wit ye well we have great scorn\nof the great rebukes that we heard Gawaine say to you; wherefore we\npray you and charge you, as ye will have our service, keep us no longer\nwithin these walls, for wit you well, plainly, we will ride into the\nfield, and do battle with them. For ye fare as a man that were afeard,\nand for all your fair speech it will not avail you. For wit you well,\nSir Gawaine will not suffer you to be accorded with king Arthur: and\ntherefore fight for your life, and your right, and ye dare. Alas, said\nSir Launcelot, for to ride out of this castle and to do battle, I am\nfull loth. Then Sir Launcelot spake on high unto Sir Arthur and Sir\nGawaine, My lords, I require you and beseech you, sithen that I am thus\nrequired and conjured to ride into the field, that neither you my lord\nking Arthur, nor you Sir Gawaine, come not into the field. What shall\nwe do then? said Sir Gawaine, is this the king\u2019s quarrel with thee to\nfight? and it is my quarrel to fight with thee Sir Launcelot, because\nof the death of my brother Sir Gareth. Then must I needs unto battle,\nsaid Sir Launcelot; now wit you well, my lord Arthur, and Sir Gawaine,\nye will repent it whensoever I do battle with you. And so then they\ndeparted either from other, and then either party made them ready on\nthe morn for to do battle, and great purveyance was made on both sides.\nAnd Sir Gawaine let purvey many knights for to wait upon Sir Launcelot\nfor to overset him, and to slay him. And on the morn at undorne Sir\nArthur was ready in the field with three great hosts, and then Sir\nLauncelot\u2019s fellowship came out at three gates, in a full good array.\nAnd Sir Lionel came in the foremost battle, and Sir Launcelot came in\nthe middle, and Sir Bors came out at the third gate. Thus they came in\norder and rule as full noble knights. And always Sir Launcelot charged\nall his knights in any wise to save king Arthur and Sir Gawaine.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_How Sir Gawaine justed and smote down Sir Lionel, and how Sir\n Launcelot horsed king Arthur._\n\nThen came forth Sir Gawaine from the king\u2019s host, and he came before\nand proffered to just, and Sir Lionel was a fierce knight, and lightly\nhe encountered with Sir Gawaine, and there Sir Gawaine smote Sir Lionel\nthroughout the body, that he dashed to the earth like as he had been\ndead. And then Sir Ector de Maris and other more bare him into the\ncastle. Then began a great stoure, and much people was slain, and ever\nSir Launcelot did what he might to save the people on king Arthur\u2019s\nparty. For Sir Palamides, and Sir Bors, and Sir Safere overthrew many\nknights, for they were deadly knights, and Sir Blamor de Ganis, and Sir\nBleoberis de Ganis, with Sir Bellangere le Beuse, these six knights did\nmuch harm. And ever king Arthur was nigh about Sir Launcelot to have\nslain him, and Sir Launcelot suffered him, and would not strike again.\nSo Sir Bors encountered with king Arthur, and there with a spear Sir\nBors smote him down; and so he alight and drew his sword, and said to\nSir Launcelot, Shall I make an end of this war? and that he meant to\nhave slain king Arthur. Not so hardy, said Sir Launcelot, upon pain of\nthy head, that thou touch him no more: for I will never see that most\nnoble king, that made me knight, neither slain ne shamed. And\ntherewithal Sir Launcelot alight off his horse, and took up the king,\nand horsed him again, and said thus, My lord Arthur, for God\u2019s love\nstint this strife, for ye get here no worship and I would do mine\nutterance, but always I forbear you, and ye, nor none of yours,\nforbeareth me: my lord remember what I have done in many places, and\nnow I am evil rewarded.\n\nThen when king Arthur was on horseback, he looked upon Sir Launcelot,\nand then the tears brast out of his eyes, thinking on the great\ncourtesy that was in Sir Launcelot, more than in any other man. And\ntherewith the king rode his way, and might no longer behold him, and\nsaid, Alas, that ever this war began! And then either parties of the\nbattles withdrew them to repose them, and buried the dead, and to the\nwounded men they laid soft salves, and thus they endured that night\ntill on the morn, and on the morn by undorne they made them ready to do\nbattle. And then Sir Bors led the forward. So upon the morn there came\nSir Gawaine as brim as any boar, with a great spear in his hand, and\nwhen Sir Bors saw him, he thought to revenge his brother Sir Lionel of\nthe despite that Sir Gawaine did him the other day. And so they that\nknew either other feutered their spears, and with all their mights of\ntheir horses and themselves they met together so felonously that either\nbare other through, and so they fell both to the earth; and then the\nbattles joined, and there was much slaughter on both parties. Then Sir\nLauncelot rescued Sir Bors, and sent him into the castle. But neither\nSir Gawaine nor Sir Bors died not of their wounds; for they were all\nholpen. Then Sir Lavaine and Sir Urre prayed Sir Launcelot to do his\npain, and fight as they had done:\u2014For we see ye forbear and spare, and\nthat doth much harm, therefore we pray you spare not your enemies no\nmore than they do you. Alas, said Sir Launcelot, I have no heart to\nfight against my lord Arthur, for ever me seemeth I do not as I ought\nto do. My lord, said Sir Palamides, though ye spare them all this day\nthey will never give you thank; and if they may get you at avail ye are\nbut dead. So then Sir Launcelot understood that they said him truth,\nand then he strained himself more than he did aforehand, and because\nhis nephew Sir Bors was sore wounded. And then within a little while,\nby even-song time, Sir Launcelot and his party better stood, for their\nhorses went in blood past the fetlocks, there was so much people slain.\nAnd then, for pity, Sir Launcelot withheld his knights, and suffered\nking Arthur\u2019s party for to withdraw them on side. And then Sir\nLauncelot\u2019s party withdrew them into his castle, and either party\nburied the dead bodies and put salve unto the wounded men. So when Sir\nGawaine was hurt, they on king Arthur\u2019s party were not so orgulous as\nthey were toforehand to do battle. Of this war was noised through all\nChristendom, and at the last it was noised afore the Pope; and he\nconsidering the great goodness of king Arthur and of Sir Launcelot,\nthat was called the most noblest knights of the world, wherefore the\nPope called unto him a noble clerk, that at that time was there\npresent,\u2014the French book saith it was the bishop of Rochester\u2014and the\nPope gave him bulls under lead unto king Arthur of England, charging\nhim upon pain of interdicting of all England, that he take his queen\ndame Guenever unto him again, and accord with Sir Launcelot.\n\n\n CHAP. XIV.\n\n_How the pope sent down his bulls to make peace, and how Sir Launcelot\n brought the queen to king Arthur._\n\nSo when this bishop was come to Carlisle he shewed the king these\nbulls. And when the king understood these bulls, he nist what to do:\nfull fain he would have been accorded with Sir Launcelot, but Sir\nGawaine would not suffer him; but as for to have the queen, thereto he\nagreed. But in no wise Sir Gawaine would not suffer the king to accord\nwith Sir Launcelot, but as for the queen he consented. And then the\nbishop had of the king his great seal, and his assurance, as he was a\ntrue anointed king, that Sir Launcelot should come safe and go safe,\nand that the queen should not be spoken unto, of the king, nor of none\nother, for no thing done afore time past. And of all these appointments\nthe bishop brought with him sure assurance and writing, to shew Sir\nLauncelot. So when the bishop was come to Joyous Gard, there he shewed\nSir Launcelot how the Pope had written to Arthur and unto him, and\nthere he told him the perils if he withheld the queen from the king. It\nwas never in my thought, said Launcelot, to withhold the queen from my\nlord Arthur; but in so much she should have been dead for my sake, me\nseemeth it was my part to save her life, and put her from that danger\ntill better recover might come. And now I thank God, said Sir\nLauncelot, that the Pope hath made her peace; for God knoweth, said Sir\nLauncelot, I will be a thousand fold more gladder to bring her again\nthan ever I was of her taking away,\u2014with this, I may be sure to come\nsafe and go safe, and that the queen shall have her liberty as she had\nbefore, and never for no thing that hath been surmised afore this time,\nshe never from this day stand in no peril; for else, said Sir\nLauncelot, I dare adventure me to keep her from an harder shower than\never I kept her. It shall not need you, said the bishop, to dread so\nmuch: for wit you well the Pope must be obeyed; and it were not the\nPope\u2019s worship nor my poor honesty to wit you distressed, neither the\nqueen, neither in peril nor shamed. And then he shewed Sir Launcelot\nall his writing, both from the Pope and from king Arthur. This is sure\nenough, said Sir Launcelot, for full well I dare trust my lord\u2019s own\nwriting and his seal, for he was never shamed of his promise.\n\nTherefore, said Sir Launcelot unto the bishop, ye shall ride unto the\nking afore, and recommand me unto his good grace, and let him have\nknowledging that this same day eight days, by the grace of God, I\nmyself shall bring my lady queen Guenever unto him. And then say ye\nunto my most redoubted king, that I will say largely for the queen,\nthat I shall none except for dread, nor fear, but the king himself, and\nmy lord Sir Gawaine, and that is more for the king\u2019s love than for\nhimself. So the bishop departed, and came to the king at Carlisle, and\ntold him all how Sir Launcelot answered him: and then the tears brast\nout of the king\u2019s eyes. Then Sir Launcelot purveyed him an hundred\nknights, and all were clothed in green velvet, and their horses trapped\nto their heels, and every knight held a branch of olive in his hand in\ntokening of peace, and the queen had four and twenty gentlewomen\nfollowing her in the same wise, and Sir Launcelot had twelve coursers\nfollowing him, and on every courser sat a young gentleman, and all they\nwere arrayed in green velvet, with sarpis of gold about their quarters,\nand the horse trapped in the same wise down to the heels with many\nouches, set with stones and pearls in gold, to the number of a\nthousand; and she and Sir Launcelot were clothed in white cloth of gold\ntissue, and right so as ye have heard, as the French book maketh\nmention, he rode with the queen from Joyous Gard to Carlisle, and so\nSir Launcelot rode throughout Carlisle, and so in the castle, that all\nmen might behold and wit you well there was many a weeping eye. And\nthen Sir Launcelot himself alight, and avoided his horse, and took the\nqueen, and so led her where king Arthur was in his seat, and Sir\nGawaine sat afore him, and many other great lords. So when Sir\nLauncelot saw the king and Sir Gawaine, then he led the queen by the\narm, and then he kneeled down, and the queen both. Wit you well, then\nwas there many bold knights there with king Arthur that wept as\ntenderly as though they had seen all their kin afore them. So the king\nsat still, and said no word. And when Sir Launcelot saw his\ncountenance, he arose and pulled up the queen with him, and thus he\nspake full knightly:\u2014\n\n\n CHAP. XV.\n\n_Of the deliverance of the queen to the king by Sir Launcelot, and what\n language Sir Gawaine had to Sir Launcelot._\n\nMy most redoubted king, ye shall understand, by the Pope\u2019s commandment,\nand yours, I have brought to you my lady the queen, as right requireth;\nand if there be any knight, of whatsoever degree that he be, except\nyour person, that will say or dare say but that she is true to you, I\nhere myself, Sir Launcelot du Lake, will make it good upon his body\nthat she is a true lady unto you: but liars ye have listened, and that\nhas caused debate betwixt you and me. For time hath been, my lord\nArthur, that ye have been greatly pleased with me, when I did battle\nfor my lady your queen; and full well ye know my most noble king, that\nshe hath been put to great wrong or this time, and sithen it pleased\nyou at many times that I should fight for her, me seemeth, my good\nlord, I had more cause to rescue her from the fire, insomuch she should\nhave been burnt for my sake. For they that told you those tales were\nliars, and so it fell upon them. For, by likelihood, had not the might\nof God been with me, I might never have endured fourteen knights, and\nthey armed and afore purposed, and I unarmed and not purposed; for I\nwas sent for unto my lady your queen, I wot not for what cause, but I\nwas not so soon within the chamber door, but anon Sir Agravaine and Sir\nMordred called me traitor and recreant knight. They called thee right,\nsaid Sir Gawaine. My lord Sir Gawaine, said Sir Launcelot, in their\nquarrel they proved themselves not in the right. Well, well, Sir\nLauncelot, said king Arthur, I have given thee no cause to do to me as\nthou hast done, for I have worshipped thee and thine more than any of\nall my knights. My good lord, said Sir Launcelot, so ye be not\ndispleased, ye shall understand I and mine have done you oft better\nservice than any other knights have done in many divers places; and\nwhere ye have been full hard bested divers times, I have myself rescued\nyou from many dangers, and ever unto my power I was glad to please you,\nand my lord Sir Gawaine both, in justs and tournaments, and in battles\nset, both on horseback and on foot, I have often rescued you, and my\nlord Sir Gawaine, and many more of your knights in many divers places.\nFor now I will make avaunt, said Sir Launcelot, I will that ye all wit\nthat yet I found never no manner of knight, but that I was over-hard\nfor him, and I had done my utterance, thanked be God; howbeit I have\nbeen matched with good knights, as Sir Tristram and Sir Lamorak, but\never I had a favour unto them, and a deeming what they were; and I take\nGod to record, said Sir Launcelot, I never was wroth nor greatly heavy\nwith no good knight, and I saw him busy about to win worship: and full\nglad I was ever when I found any knight that might endure me on\nhorseback and on foot. Howbeit, Sir Carados of the dolorous tower was a\nfull noble knight, and a passing strong man, and that wot ye, my lord\nSir Gawaine; for he might well be called a noble knight, when he by\nfine force pulled you out of your saddle, and bound you overthwart\nafore him to his saddle bow; and there, my lord Sir Gawaine, I rescued\nyou, and slew him afore your sight. Also I found his brother, Sir\nTurquin, in like wise leading Sir Gaheris your brother bounden afore\nhim, and there I rescued your brother, and slew that Sir Turquin, and\ndelivered threescore and four of my lord Arthur\u2019s knights out of his\nprison. And now I dare say, said Sir Launcelot, I met never with so\nstrong knights, nor so well fighting, as was Sir Carados and Sir\nTurquin, for I fought with them to the uttermost; and therefore, said\nSir Launcelot unto Sir Gawaine, me seemeth ye ought of right for to\nremember this: for and I might have your good will, I would trust to\nGod to have my lord Arthur\u2019s good grace.\n\n\n CHAP. XVI.\n\n_Of the communication between Sir Gawaine and Sir Launcelot, with much\n other language._\n\nThe king may do as he will, said Sir Gawaine, but wit thou well, Sir\nLauncelot, thou and I shall never be accorded while we live, for thou\nhast slain three of my brethren, and twain of them ye slew traitorly\nand piteously, for they bare none harness against thee, nor none would\nbear. God would they had been armed, said Sir Launcelot, for then had\nthey been on live. And wit ye well, Sir Gawaine, as for Sir Gareth, I\nlove none of my kinsmen so much as I did him, and ever while I live,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, I will bewail Sir Gareth\u2019s death, not all only for\nthe great fear that I have of you, but many causes causen me to be\nsorrowful. One is, for I made him knight; another is, I wot well he\nloved me above all other knights; and the third is, he was passing\nnoble, true, courteous, and gentle, and well conditioned; the fourth\nis, I wist well, anon as I heard that Sir Gareth was dead, I should\nnever after have your love, but everlasting war betwixt us; and also I\nwist well that ye would cause my noble lord Arthur for ever to be my\nmortal foe, and as Jesu be my help, said Sir Launcelot, I slew never\nSir Gareth nor Sir Gaheris by my will, but alas, that ever they were\nunarmed that unhappy day. But thus much I shall offer me, said Sir\nLauncelot, if it may please the king\u2019s good grace, and you, my lord Sir\nGawaine: I shall first begin at Sandwich, and there I shall go in my\nshirt, barefoot, and at every ten miles end I will found, and cause to\nmake an house of religion, of what order that ye will assign me, with\nan whole convent to sing and read day and night in especial for Sir\nGareth\u2019s sake and Sir Gaheris. And this shall I perform from Sandwich\nunto Carlisle; and every house shall have sufficient livelihood, and\nthis shall I perform while I have any livelihood in Christendom, and\nthere is none of all these religious places, but they shall be\nperformed, furnished and garnished in all things as an holy place ought\nto be, I promise you faithfully. And this, Sir Gawaine, me thinketh\nwere more fairer, holier, and more better to their souls, than ye my\nmost noble king, and you, Sir Gawaine, to war upon me, for thereby\nshall ye get none avail. Then all knights and ladies that were there\nwept as they were mad, and the tears fell on king Arthur\u2019s cheeks. Sir\nLauncelot, said Sir Gawaine, I have right well heard thy speech, and\nthy great proffers, but wit thou well, let the king do as it pleaseth\nhim, I will never forgive my brothers\u2019 death, and in especial the death\nof my brother Sir Gareth: and if mine uncle, king Arthur, will accord\nwith thee, he shall lose my service: for wit thou well, thou art both\nfalse to the king and to me. Sir, said Sir Launcelot, he beareth not\nthe life that may make that good, and if that ye, Sir Gawaine, will\ncharge me with so high a thing, ye must pardon me, for then needs must\nI answer you. Nay, said Sir Gawaine, we are past that at this time, and\nthat caused the Pope, for he hath charged mine uncle the king, that he\nshall take his queen again, and to accord with thee, Sir Launcelot, as\nfor this season, and therefore thou shalt go safe, as thou camest. But\nin this land thou shalt not abide past fifteen days, such summons I\ngive you;\u2014so the king and we were consented and accorded, or thou\ncamest hither; and else, said Sir Gawaine, wit thou well, that thou\nshouldest not have come here, but if it were maugre thy head. And if it\nwere not for the Pope\u2019s commandment, said Sir Gawaine, I should do\nbattle with mine own body against thy body, and prove it upon thee that\nthou hast been both false unto mine uncle king Arthur, and to me both,\nand that shall I prove upon thy body when thou art departed from hence,\nwheresoever I find thee.\n\n\n CHAP. XVII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot departed from the king and from Joyous Gard over\n seaward, and what knights went with him._\n\nThen Sir Launcelot sighed, and therewith the tears fell on his cheeks,\nand then he said thus: Alas, most noble christian realm, whom I have\nloved above all other realms, and in thee have I gotten a great part of\nmy worship, and now I shall depart in this wise. Truly me repenteth\nthat ever I came in this realm that should be thus shamefully banished,\nundeserved and causeless. But fortune is so variant, and the wheel so\nmovable, there is no constant abiding, and that may be proved by many\nold chronicles of noble Hector, and Troilus, and Alisander the mighty\nconqueror, and many other more. When they were most in their royalty,\nthey alight lowest; and so fareth by me, said Sir Launcelot, for in\nthis realm I had worship, and by me and mine all the whole Round Table\nhath been increased more in worship by me and my blood than by any\nother. And therefore wit thou well, Sir Gawaine, I may live upon my\nlands as well as any knight that here is. And if ye, most redoubted\nking, will come upon my lands with Sir Gawaine, to war upon me, I must\nendure you as well as I may. But as to you, Sir Gawaine, if that ye\ncome there, I pray you charge me not with treason nor felony, for, and\nye do, I must answer you. Do thou thy best, said Sir Gawaine, therefore\nhie thee fast that thou were gone, and wit thou well we shall soon come\nafter, and break the strongest castle that thou hast upon thy head.\nThat shall not need, said Sir Launcelot, for and I were as orgulous set\nas ye are, wit ye well I should meet with you in midst of the field.\nMake thou no more language, said Sir Gawaine, but deliver the queen\nfrom thee, and pike thee lightly out of this court. Well, said Sir\nLauncelot, and I had wist of this short coming, I would have advised me\ntwice or that I had come hither; for and the queen had been so dear to\nme as ye noise her, I durst have kept her from the fellowship of the\nbest knights under heaven. And then Sir Launcelot said unto Guenever,\nin hearing of the king and them all, Madam, now I must depart from you\nand this noble fellowship for ever; and sithen it is so, I beseech you\nto pray for me, and say me well, and if ye be hard bestad by any false\ntongues, lightly, my lady, let send me word, and if any knight\u2019s hands\nmay deliver you by battle, I shall deliver you. And therewithal Sir\nLauncelot kissed the queen, and then he said all openly, Now let see\nwhat he be in this place, that dare say the queen is not true unto my\nlord Arthur: let see who will speak, and he dare speak. And therewith\nhe brought the queen to the king, and then Sir Launcelot took his leave\nand departed; and there was neither king, duke ne earl, baron ne\nknight, lady nor gentlewoman, but all they wept as people out of their\nmind, except Sir Gawaine; and when the noble Sir Launcelot took his\nhorse, to ride out of Carlisle, there was sobbing and weeping for pure\ndole of his departing; and so he took his way unto Joyous Gard, and\nthen ever after he called it the Dolorous Gard. And thus departed Sir\nLauncelot from the court for ever. And so when he came to Joyous Gard,\nhe called his fellowship unto him, and asked them what they would do.\nThen they answered all wholly together with one voice, they would as he\nwould do. My fair fellows, said Sir Launcelot, I must depart out of\nthis most noble realm, and now I shall depart it grieveth me sore, for\nI shall depart with no worship. For a banished man departed never out\nof no realm with no worship, and that is my heaviness, for ever I fear\nafter my days that they shall chronicle upon me that I was banished out\nof this land; and else, my fair lords, be ye sure, and I had not dread\nshame, my lady queen Guenever and I should never have departed. Then\nspake many noble knights, as Sir Palamides, Sir Safir his brother, and\nSir Bellangere le Beuse, and Sir Urre with Sir Lavaine, with many\nother, Sir, and ye be so disposed to abide in this country, we will\nnever fail you; and if ye list not to abide in this land, there is none\nof the good knights that here be will fail you, for many causes. One\nis, all we that be not of your blood shall never be welcome to the\ncourt. And sithen it liked us to take a part with you in your distress\nand heaviness in this realm, wit you well it shall like us as well to\ngo in other countries with you, and there to take such part as ye do.\nMy fair lords, said Sir Launcelot, I well understand you, and, as I\ncan, thank you: and ye shall understand such livelihood as I am born\nunto I shall depart with you, in this manner of wise, that is for to\nsay, I shall depart all my livelihood and all my lands freely among\nyou, and I myself will have as little as any of you, for have I\nsufficient that may long to my person, I will ask none other rich\narray; and I trust to God to maintain you on my lands as well as ever\nwere maintained any knights. Then spake all the knights at once, He\nhave shame that will leave you; for we all understand in this realm\nwill be now no quiet, but ever strife and debate, now the fellowship of\nthe Round Table is broken; for by the noble fellowship of the Round\nTable was king Arthur upborne, and by their nobleness the king and all\nhis realm was in quiet and in rest. And a great part, they said all,\nwas because of your nobleness.\n\n\n CHAP. XVIII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot passed over the sea, and how he made great lords of\n the knights that went with him._\n\nTruly, said Sir Launcelot, I thank you all of your good saying,\nhowbeit, I wot well, in me was not all the stability of this realm. But\nin that I might I did my devoir, and well, I am sure, I knew many\nrebellions in my days that by me were appeased; and I trow we all shall\nhear of them in short space, and that me sore repenteth. For ever I\ndread me, said Sir Launcelot, that Sir Mordred will make trouble, for\nhe is passing envious, and applieth him to trouble. So they were\naccorded to go with Sir Launcelot to his lands. And to make short tale,\nthey trussed, and paid all that would ask them. And wholly an hundred\nknights departed with Sir Launcelot at once, and made their avows they\nwould never leave him for weal nor for woe; and so they shipped at\nCardiff, and sailed unto Benwick: some men call it Bayonne, and some\nmen call it Beaume, where the wine of Beaume is. But to say the sooth,\nSir Launcelot and his nephews were lords of all France, and of all the\nlands that longed unto France, he and his kindred rejoiced it all\nthrough Sir Launcelot\u2019s noble prowess. And then Sir Launcelot stuffed\nand furnished and garnished all his noble towns and castles. Then all\nthe people of those lands came unto Sir Launcelot on foot and hands.\nAnd so when he had established all these countries, he shortly called a\nparliament; and there he crowned Sir Lionel king of France; and Sir\nBors he crowned him king of all king Claudas\u2019 lands; and Sir Ector de\nMaris, that was Sir Launcelot\u2019s youngest brother, he crowned him king\nof Benwick, and also king of all Guienne, that was Sir Launcelot\u2019s own\nland. And he made Sir Ector prince of them all, and thus he departed.\nThen Sir Launcelot advanced all his noble knights, and first he\nadvanced them of his blood; that was Sir Blamor he made him duke of\nLimosin in Guienne, and Sir Bleoberis he made him duke of Poictiers,\nand Sir Gahalantin he made him duke of Querne, and Sir Galihodin he\nmade him duke of Sentonge, and Sir Galihud he made him earl of Perigot,\nand Sir Menadeuke he made him earl of Roerge, and Sir Villiers the\nvaliant he made him earl of Bearn, and Sir Hebes le Renoumes he made\nhim earl of Comange, and Sir Lavaine he made him earl of Arminak, and\nSir Urre he made him earl of Estrake, and Sir Neroneus he made him earl\nof Pardiak, and Sir Plenorius he made him earl of Foise, and Sir\nSelises of the dolorous tower he made him earl of Masauke, and sir\nMelias de Lile he made him earl of Tursauk, and Sir Bellangere le Bewse\nhe made him earl of the Landes, and Sir Palamides he made him duke of\nthe Provence, and Sir Safir he made him duke of Langedok, and Sir\nClegis he gave him the earldom of Agente, and Sir Sadok he gave him the\nearldom of Surlat, and Sir Dinas le seneschal he made him duke of\nAnjou, and Sir Clarrus he made him duke of Normandy. Thus Sir Launcelot\nrewarded his noble knights, and many more, that me seemeth it were too\nlong to rehearse.\n\n\n CHAP. XIX.\n\n_How king Arthur and Sir Gawaine made a great host ready to go over sea\n to make war on Sir Launcelot._\n\nSo leave we Sir Launcelot in his lands, and his noble knights with him,\nand return we again unto king Arthur and to Sir Gawaine, that made a\ngreat host ready, to the number of threescore thousand, and all thing\nwas made ready for their shipping to pass over the sea; and so they\nshipped at Cardiff. And there king Arthur made Sir Mordred chief ruler\nof all England, and also he put queen Guenever under his governance;\nbecause Sir Mordred was king Arthur\u2019s son, he gave him the rule of his\nland, and of his wife, and so king Arthur passed over the sea and\nlanded upon Sir Launcelot\u2019s lands, and there he burnt and wasted,\nthrough the vengeance of Sir Gawaine, all that they might overrun. When\nthis word came to Sir Launcelot, that king Arthur and Sir Gawaine were\nlanded upon his lands, and made a full destruction and waste, then\nspake Sir Bors and said, My lord Sir Launcelot, it is shame that we\nsuffer them thus to ride over our lands, for wit you well, suffer ye\nthem as long as ye will, they will do you no favour, and they may\nhandle you. Then said Sir Lionel, that was ware and wise, My lord Sir\nLauncelot, I will give you this counsel, let us keep our strong walled\ntowns until they have hunger and cold, and blow on their nails, and\nthen let us freshly set upon them, and shred them down as sheep in a\nfield, that aliens may take ensample for ever how they land upon our\nlands. Then spake king Bagdemagus to Sir Launcelot, Sir, your courtesy\nwill shend us all, and thy courtesy hath waked all this sorrow: for,\nand they thus over our lands ride, they shall by process bring us all\nto nought, whilst we thus in holes us hide. Then said Sir Galihud unto\nSir Launcelot, Sir, here be knights come of kings\u2019 blood that will not\nlong droop, and they are within these walls, therefore give us leave,\nlike as we be knights, to meet them in the field, and we shall slay\nthem, that they shall curse the time that ever they came into this\ncountry. Then spake seven brethren of North Wales, and they were seven\nnoble knights, a man might seek in seven lands or he might find such\nseven knights: then they all said at once, Sir Launcelot, let us out\nride with Sir Galihud, for we be never wont to cower in castles nor in\nnoble towns. Then spake Sir Launcelot, that was master and governor of\nthem all, My fair lords, wit you well I am full loth to ride out with\nmy knights, for shedding of christian blood; and yet my lands I\nunderstand be full bare to sustain any host a while, for the mighty\nwars that whilom made king Claudus upon this country, upon my father\nking Ban, and on mine uncle king Bors; howbeit we will as at this time\nkeep our strong walls, and I shall send a messager unto my lord Arthur,\na treaty for to take, for better is peace than always war. So Sir\nLauncelot sent forth a damsel, and a dwarf with her, requiring king\nArthur to leave his warring upon his lands, and so she start upon a\npalfrey, and the dwarf ran by her side. And when she came to the\npavilion of king Arthur, there she alight, and there met her a gentle\nknight Sir Lucan the butler, and said, Fair damsel, come ye from Sir\nLauncelot du Lake? Yea, sir, she said, therefore I come hither to speak\nwith my lord the king. Alas, said Sir Lucan, my lord Arthur would love\nLauncelot, but Sir Gawaine will not suffer him. And then he said, I\npray to God, damsel, ye may speed well, for all we that be about the\nking would that Sir Launcelot did best of any knight living. And so\nwith this Lucan led the damsel unto the king, where he sat with Sir\nGawaine for to hear what she would say. So when she had told her tale,\nthe water ran out of the king\u2019s eyes, and all the lords were full glad\nfor to advise the king as to be accorded with Sir Launcelot, save all\nonly Sir Gawaine, and he said, My lord, mine uncle, what will ye do?\nwill ye now turn again, now ye are past thus far upon this journey? all\nthe world will speak of you villainy. Nay, said Arthur, wit thou well,\nSir Gawaine, I will do as ye will advise me; and yet me seemeth, said\nArthur, his fair proffers were not good to be refused: but sithen I am\ncomen so far upon this journey, I will that ye give the damsel her\nanswer, for I may not speak to her for pity, for her proffers be so\nlarge.\n\n\n CHAP. XX.\n\n_What message Sir Gawaine sent to Sir Launcelot, and king Arthur laid\n siege to Benwick, and other matters._\n\nThen Sir Gawaine said to the damsel thus: Damsel, say ye to Sir\nLauncelot, that it is waste labour, now to sue to mine uncle. For tell\nhim, and he would have made any labour for peace, he should have made\nit or this time: for tell him now it is too late. And say, that I, Sir\nGawaine, so send him word, that I promise him, by the faith I owe unto\nGod, and to knighthood, I shall never leave him till he have slain me,\nor I him. So the damsel wept and departed, and there were many weeping\neyes: and so Sir Lucan brought the damsel to her palfrey, and so she\ncame to Sir Launcelot, where he was among all his knights; and when Sir\nLauncelot had heard this answer, then the tears ran down by his cheeks.\nAnd then his noble knights strode about him, and said, Sir Launcelot,\nwherefore make ye such cheer: think what ye are, and what men we are,\nand let us noble knights match them in midst of the field. That may be\nlightly done, said Sir Launcelot, but I was never so loth to do battle,\nand therefore, I pray you, fair sirs, as ye love me, be ruled as I will\nhave you, for I will always flee that noble king that made me knight.\nAnd when I may no farther, I must needs defend me, and that will be\nmore worship for me, and us all, than to compare with that noble king\nwhom we have all served. Then they held their language, and as that\nnight they took their rest. And upon the morn, early, in the dawning of\nthe day, as knights looked out, they saw the city of Benwick besieged\nround about, and fast they began to set up ladders. And then they\ndefied them out of the town, and beat them from the walls mightily.\nThen came forth Sir Gawaine, well armed, upon a stiff steed, and he\ncame before the chief gate with his spear in his hand, crying, Sir\nLauncelot, where art thou, is there none of you proud knights dare\nbreak a spear with me? Then Sir Bors made him ready, and came forth out\nof the town, and there Sir Gawaine encountered with Sir Bors; and at\nthat time he smote Sir Bors down from his horse, and almost he had\nslain him, and so Sir Bors was rescued, and borne into the town. Then\ncame forth Sir Lionel, brother to Sir Bors, and thought to revenge him,\nand either feutred their spears, and ran together, and there they met\nspitefully, but Sir Gawaine had such grace that he smote Sir Lionel\ndown, and wounded him there passing sore, and then Sir Lionel was\nrescued, and borne into the town. And this Sir Gawaine came every day,\nand he failed not, but that he smote down one knight or other. So thus\nthey endured half a year, and much slaughter was of people on both\nparties. Then it befell upon a day, Sir Gawaine came before the gates\narmed at all pieces, on a noble horse, with a great spear in his hand,\nand then he cried with a loud voice, Where art thou now, thou false\ntraitor. Sir Launcelot? Why hidest thou thyself within holes and walls\nlike a coward? Look out now, thou false traitor knight, and here I\nshall revenge upon thy body the death of my three brethren. All this\nlanguage heard Sir Launcelot every deal, and his kin and his knights\ndrew about him, and all they said at once to Sir Launcelot, Sir\nLauncelot, now must ye defend you like a knight, or else ye be shamed\nfor ever: for now ye be called upon treason, it is time for you to\nstir, for ye have slept over long, and suffered over much. So God me\nhelp, said Sir Launcelot, I am right heavy of Sir Gawaine\u2019s words, for\nnow he charged me with a great charge; and therefore I wot it as well\nas ye, that I must defend me, or else to be recreant. Then Sir\nLauncelot bade saddle his strongest horse, and bad let fetch his arms,\nand bring all unto the gate of the tower. And then Sir Launcelot spake\non high unto king Arthur, and said, My lord Arthur, and noble king that\nmade me knight, wit you well I am right heavy for your sake, that ye\nthus sue upon me, and always I forbear you, for, and I would have been\nvengeable, I might have met you in midst of the field, and there to\nhave made your boldest knights full tame: and now I have forborne half\na year, and suffered you and Sir Gawaine to do what ye would do, and\nnow I may endure it no longer, now must I needs defend myself, insomuch\nSir Gawaine hath appealed me of treason,\u2014the which is greatly against\nmy will, that ever I should fight against any of your blood; but now I\nmay not forsake it, I am driven thereto as a beast till a bay. Then Sir\nGawaine said, Sir Launcelot, and thou darest do battle, leave thy\nbabbling and come off, and let us ease our hearts. Then Sir Launcelot\narmed him lightly, and mounted upon his horse. And either of the\nknights gat great spears in their hands, and the host without stood\nstill all apart, and the noble knights came out of the city by a great\nnumber, insomuch that when Arthur saw the number of men and knights he\nmarvelled, and said to himself, Alas, that ever Sir Launcelot was\nagainst me, for now I see he hath forborne me. And so the covenant was\nmade, there should no man nigh them, nor deal with them, till the one\nwere dead or yielden.\n\n\n CHAP. XXI.\n\n_How Sir Gawaine and Sir Launcelot did battle together, and how Sir\n Gawaine was overthrown and hurt._\n\nThen Sir Gawaine and Sir Launcelot departed a great way in sunder, and\nthen they came together with all their horses\u2019 might as they might run,\nand either smote other in midst of their shields, but the knights were\nso strong, and their spears so big, that their horses might not endure\ntheir buffets, and so the horses fell to the earth. And then they\navoided their horses, and dressed their shields afore them. Then they\nstood together, and gave many sad strokes on divers places of their\nbodies, that the blood brast out on many sides and places. Then had Sir\nGawaine such a grace and gift that an holy man had given to him, that\nevery day in the year, from underne till high noon, his might increased\nthose three hours, as much as thrice his strength, and that caused Sir\nGawaine to win great honour. And for his sake king Arthur made an\nordinance that all manner of battles for any quarrels that should be\ndone before king Arthur, should begin at underne, and all was done for\nSir Gawaine\u2019s love, that by likelihood if that Sir Gawaine were on the\none part he should have the better in battle, while his strength\nendured three hours, but there were but few knights that time living\nthat knew this advantage that Sir Gawaine had, but king Arthur all\nonly. Thus Sir Launcelot fought with Sir Gawaine, and when Sir\nLauncelot felt his might evermore increase, Sir Launcelot wondered, and\ndread him sore to be shamed. For, as the French book saith, Sir\nLauncelot wend, when he felt Sir Gawaine double his strength, that he\nhad been a fiend and no earthly man, wherefore Sir Launcelot traced and\ntraversed, and covered himself with his shield, and kept his might and\nhis braid during three hours: and that while Sir Gawaine gave him many\nsad brunts and many sad strokes, that all the knights that beheld Sir\nLauncelot marvelled how he might endure him, but full little understood\nthey that travail that Sir Launcelot had for to endure him. And then\nwhen it was past noon, Sir Gawaine had no more but his own might. Then\nSir Launcelot felt him so come down; then he stretched him up, and\nstood near Sir Gawaine, and said thus, My lord Sir Gawaine, now I feel\nye have done, now my lord Sir Gawaine I must do my part, for many great\nand grievous strokes I have endured you this day with great pain. Then\nSir Launcelot doubled his strokes, and gave Sir Gawaine such a buffet\non the helmet, that he fell down on his side, and Sir Launcelot\nwithdrew him from him. Why withdrawest thou thee? said Sir Gawaine; now\nturn again, false traitor knight, and slay me; for and thou leave me\nthus, when I am whole I shall do battle with thee again.\u2014I shall\nendure you, sir, by God\u2019s grace, but wit thou well, Sir Gawaine, I will\nnever smite a felled knight. And so Sir Launcelot went into the city,\nand Sir Gawaine was borne into one of king Arthur\u2019s pavilions, and\nleeches were brought to him, and searched and salved with soft\nointments. And then Sir Launcelot said, Now have good day, my lord the\nking, for, wit you well, ye win no worship at these walls; and if I\nwould my knights out bring, there should many a man die. Therefore, my\nlord Arthur, remember you of old kindness, and however I fare Jesu be\nyour guide in all places.\n\n\n CHAP. XXII.\n\n_Of the sorrow that king Arthur made for the war, and of another battle\n where also Sir Gawaine had the worse._\n\nAlas, said the king, that ever this unhappy war was begun, for ever Sir\nLauncelot forbeareth me in all places, and in likewise my kin, and that\nis seen well this day by my nephew Sir Gawaine. Then king Arthur fell\nsick for sorrow of Sir Gawaine, that he was sore hurt, and because of\nthe war betwixt him and Sir Launcelot. So then they on king Arthur\u2019s\nparty kept the siege with little war withoutforth, and they withinforth\nkept their walls, and defended them when need was. Thus Sir Gawaine lay\nsick about three weeks in his tents, with all manner of leech-craft\nthat might be had: and as soon as Sir Gawaine might go and ride, he\narmed him at all points, and start upon a courser, and gat a spear in\nhis hand, and so he came riding afore the chief gate of Benwick, and\nthere he cried on high, Where art thou, Sir Launcelot? come forth thou\nfalse traitor knight, and recreant, for I am here, Sir Gawaine, will\nprove this that I say on thee. All this language Sir Launcelot heard,\nand then he said thus, Sir Gawaine, me repenteth of your foul saying,\nthat ye will not cease of your language, for you wot well, Sir Gawaine,\nI know your might, and all that ye may do, and well ye wot, Sir\nGawaine, ye may not greatly hurt me. Come down, traitor knight, said\nhe, and make it good the contrary with thy hands; for it mishapped me\nthe last battle to be hurt of thy hands, therefore, wit thou well, that\nI am come this day to make amends, for I ween this day to lay thee as\nlow as thou laidest me. Defend me, said Sir Launcelot, that ever I be\nso far in your danger as ye have been in mine, for then my days were\ndone. But Sir Gawaine, said Sir Launcelot, ye shall not think that I\ntarry long, but sithen that ye so unknightly call me of treason, ye\nshall have both your hands full of me. And then Sir Launcelot armed him\nat all points, and mounted upon his horse, and gat a great spear in his\nhand, and rode out at the gate. And both the hosts were assembled, of\nthem without, and of them within, and stood in array full manly. And\nboth parties were charged to hold them still, to see and behold the\nbattle of these two noble knights. And then they laid their spears in\ntheir rests, and they came together as thunder. And Sir Gawaine brake\nhis spear upon Sir Launcelot in an hundred pieces unto his hand, and\nSir Launcelot smote him with a greater might, that Sir Gawaine\u2019s horse\nfeet raised, and so the horse and he fell to the earth. Then Sir\nGawaine deliverly avoided his horse, and put his shield afore him, and\neagerly drew his sword, and bad Sir Launcelot, Alight, traitor knight,\nfor if this mare\u2019s son hath failed me, wit thou well a king\u2019s son and a\nqueen\u2019s son shall not fail thee.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot avoided his horse, and dressed his shield afore him,\nand drew his sword, and so stood they together, and gave many sad\nstrokes, that all men on both parties had thereof passing great wonder.\nBut when Sir Launcelot felt Sir Gawaine\u2019s might so marvellously\nincrease, he then withheld his courage and his wind, and kept himself\nwonder covert of his might, and under his shield he traced and\ntraversed here and there, to break Sir Gawaine\u2019s strokes and his\ncourage; and Sir Gawaine enforced himself with all his might and power\nto destroy Sir Launcelot, for, as the French book saith, ever as Sir\nGawaine\u2019s might increased, right so increased his wind and his evil\nwill. Thus Sir Gawaine did great pain unto Sir Launcelot three hours,\nthat he had great pain for to defend him. And when the three hours were\npassed, that Sir Launcelot felt that Sir Gawaine was come to his own\nproper strength, then Sir Launcelot said unto Sir Gawaine, Now have I\nproved you twice, that ye are a full dangerous knight, and a wonderful\nman of your might, and many wonderful deeds have you done in your days:\nfor by your might increasing you have deceived many a full noble and\nvaliant knight; and now I feel that ye have done your mighty deeds. Now\nwit you well I must do my deeds. And then Sir Launcelot stood near Sir\nGawaine, and then Sir Launcelot doubled his strokes, and Sir Gawaine\ndefended him mightily. But nevertheless Sir Launcelot smote such a\nstroke upon Sir Gawaine\u2019s helm, and upon the old wound, that Sir\nGawaine sinked down upon his one side in a swoon. And anon as he did\nawake, he waved and foined at Sir Launcelot as he lay, and said,\nTraitor knight, wit thou well I am not yet slain: come thou near me,\nand perform this battle unto the uttermost. I will no more do than I\nhave done, said Sir Launcelot; for when I see you on foot I will do\nbattle upon you all the while I see you stand on your feet; but for to\nsmite a wounded man, that may not stand, God defend me from such a\nshame. And then he turned him and went his way toward the city, and Sir\nGawaine evermore calling him traitor knight, and said, Wit thou well,\nSir Launcelot, when I am whole, I shall do battle with thee again; for\nI shall never leave thee till that one of us be slain. Thus as this\nsiege endured, and as Sir Gawaine lay sick near a month, and when he\nwas well recovered, and ready within three days to do battle again with\nSir Launcelot, right so came tidings unto Arthur from England, that\nmade king Arthur and all his host to remove.\n\n Here foloweth the xxi book.\n\n\n\n\n The Twenty-first Book.\n\n\n CHAP. I.\n\n_How Sir Mordred presumed and took on him to be king of England, and\n would have married the queen, his uncle\u2019s wife._\n\nAs Sir Mordred was ruler of all England, he did do make letters as\nthough that they came from beyond the sea, and the letters specified\nthat king Arthur was slain in battle with Sir Launcelot. Wherefore Sir\nMordred made a Parliament, and called the lords together, and there he\nmade them to choose him king, and so was he crowned at Canterbury, and\nheld a feast there fifteen days, and afterward he drew him unto\nWinchester, and there he took the queen Guenever, and said plainly,\nthat he would wed her which was his uncle\u2019s wife, and his father\u2019s\nwife. And so he made ready for the feast, and a day prefixed that they\nshould be wedded; wherefore queen Guenever was passing heavy. But she\ndurst not discover her heart, but spake fair, and agreed to Sir\nMordred\u2019s will. Then she desired of Sir Mordred for to go to London, to\nbuy all manner of things that longed unto the wedding. And because of\nher fair speech Sir Mordred trusted her well enough, and gave her leave\nto go. And so when she came to London, she took the tower of London,\nand suddenly, in all haste possible, she stuffed it with all manner of\nvictual, and well garnished it with men, and so kept it. Then when Sir\nMordred wist and understood how he was beguiled, he was passing wroth\nout of measure. And a short tale for to make, he went and laid a mighty\nsiege about the tower of London, and made many great assaults thereat,\nand threw many great engines unto them, and shot great guns. But all\nmight not prevail Sir Mordred, for queen Guenever would never, for fair\nspeech nor for foul, would never trust to come in his hands again. And\nthen came the bishop of Canterbury, the which was a noble clerk and an\nholy man, and thus he said to Sir Mordred: Sir, what will ye do, will\nye first displease God, and sithen shame yourself and all knighthood?\nIs not king Arthur your uncle, no further but your mother\u2019s brother,\nand are ye not his son, therefore how may ye wed your father\u2019s wife?\nSir, said the noble clerk, leave this opinion, or else I shall curse\nyou with book, and bell, and candle. Do thou thy worst, said Sir\nMordred, wit thou well I shall defy thee. Sir, said the bishop, and wit\nyou well I shall not fear me to do that me ought to do. Also where ye\nnoise where my lord Arthur is slain, and that is not so, and therefore\nye will make a foul work in this land. Peace, thou false priest, said\nSir Mordred, for, and thou chafe me any more, I shall make strike off\nthy head. So the bishop departed, and did the curse in the most\norgulous wise that might be done. And then Sir Mordred sought the\nbishop of Canterbury for to have slain him. Then the bishop fled, and\ntook part of his goods with him, and went nigh unto Glastonbury, and\nthere he was as priest hermit in a chapel, and lived in poverty and in\nholy prayers: for well he understood that mischievous war was at hand.\nThen Sir Mordred sought on queen Guenever by letters and sondes, and by\nfair means and foul means, for to have her to come out of the tower of\nLondon, but all this availed not, for she answered him shortly, openly\nand privily, that she had lever slay herself than to be married with\nhim. Then came word to Sir Mordred that king Arthur had raised the\nsiege from Sir Launcelot, and he was coming homeward with a great host,\nto be avenged upon Sir Mordred. Wherefore Sir Mordred made write writs\nto all the barony of this land, and much people drew to him. For then\nwas the common voice among them, that with Arthur was none other life\nbut war and strife, and with Sir Mordred was great joy and bliss. Thus\nwas Sir Arthur depraved and evil said of. And many there were that king\nArthur had made up of nought, and given them lands, might not then say\nof him a good word.\n\nLo ye, all Englishmen, see ye not what a mischief here was, for he that\nwas the most king and knight of the world, and most loved the\nfellowship of noble knights, and by him they were all upholden. Now\nmight not these Englishmen hold us content with him. Lo, thus was the\nold custom and usage of this land. And also men say, that we of this\nland have not yet lost nor forgotten that custom and usage. Alas, this\nis a great default of all Englishmen, for there may no thing please us\nno term. And so fared the people at that time; they were better pleased\nwith Sir Mordred than they were with king Arthur, and much people drew\nunto Sir Mordred, and said they would abide with him for better and for\nworse. And so Sir Mordred drew with a great host to Dover, for there he\nheard say that Sir Arthur would arrive, and so he thought to beat his\nown father from his lands. And the most party of all England held with\nSir Mordred, the people were so new fangle.\n\n\n CHAP. II.\n\n_How after that king Arthur had tidings he returned and came to Dover,\n where Sir Mordred met him to let his landing, and of the death of Sir\n Gawaine._\n\nAnd so as Sir Mordred was at Dover with his host, there came king\nArthur with a great navy of ships, galleys, and carracks. And there was\nSir Mordred ready awaiting upon his landage, to let his own father to\nland upon the land that he was king over. Then there was launching of\ngreat boats and small, and full of noble men of arms, and there was\nmuch slaughter of gentle knights, and many a full bold baron was laid\nfull low on both parties. But king Arthur was so courageous, that there\nmight no manner of knights let him to land, and his knights fiercely\nfollowed him. And so they landed, maugre Sir Mordred and all his power,\nand put Sir Mordred aback, that he fled and all his people. So when\nthis battle was done, king Arthur let bury his people that were dead,\nand then was the noble knight Sir Gawaine found in a great boat lying\nmore than half dead. When Sir Arthur wist that Sir Gawaine was laid so\nlow, he went unto him, and there the king made sorrow out of measure,\nand took Sir Gawaine in his arms, and thrice he there swooned. And when\nhe awaked he said, Alas, Sir Gawaine, my sister\u2019s son, here now thou\nliest, the man in the world that I loved most, and now is my joy gone:\nfor now, my nephew Sir Gawaine, I will discover me unto your person; in\nSir Launcelot and you I most had my joy, and mine affiance, and now\nhave I lost my joy of you both, wherefore all mine earthly joy is gone\nfrom me. Mine uncle king Arthur, said Sir Gawaine, wit you well, my\ndeath day is come, and all is through mine own hastiness and\nwilfulness, for I am smitten upon the old wound the which Sir Launcelot\ngave me, on the which I feel well I must die, and had Sir Launcelot\nbeen with you as he was, this unhappy war had never begun, and of all\nthis am I causer, for Sir Launcelot and his blood through their prowess\nheld all your cankered enemies in subjection and danger: and now, said\nSir Gawaine, ye shall miss Sir Launcelot. But, alas, I would not accord\nwith him, and therefore, said Sir Gawaine, I pray you, fair uncle, that\nI may have paper, pen, and ink, that I may write to Sir Launcelot a\nschedule with mine own hands. And then when paper and ink was brought,\nthen Gawaine was set up weakly by king Arthur, for he was shriven a\nlittle tofore, and then he wrote thus, as the French book maketh\nmention,\u2014Unto Sir Launcelot, flower of all noble knights that ever I\nheard of, or saw by my days, I Sir Gawaine, king Lot\u2019s son, of Orkney,\nsister\u2019s son unto the noble king Arthur, send thee greeting, and let\nthee have knowledge, that the tenth day of May I was smitten upon the\nold wound that thou gavest me afore the city of Benwick, and through\nthe same wound that thou gavest me I am come to my death-day. And I\nwill that all the world wit that I, Sir Gawaine, knight of the Table\nRound, sought my death, and not through thy deserving, but it was mine\nown seeking, wherefore I beseech thee, Sir Launcelot, to return again\nunto this realm, and see my tomb, and pray some prayer, more or less,\nfor my soul. And this same day that I wrote this schedule, I was hurt\nto the death in the same wound, the which I had of thy hand, Sir\nLauncelot. For of a more nobler man might I not be slain. Also, Sir\nLauncelot, for all the love that ever was betwixt us, make no tarrying,\nbut come over the sea in all haste, that thou mayest with thy noble\nknights rescue that noble king that made thee knight, that is my lord\nArthur, for he is full straitly bestad with a false traitor, that is my\nhalf brother Sir Mordred, and he hath let crown him king, and would\nhave wedded my lady queen Guenever, and so had he done, had she not put\nherself in the tower of London. And so the tenth day of May last past,\nmy lord Arthur and we all landed upon them at Dover, and there we put\nthat false traitor Sir Mordred to flight, and there it misfortuned me\nto be stricken upon thy stroke, and at the date of this letter was\nwritten but two hours and an half afore my death, written with mine own\nhand, and so subscribed with part of my heart\u2019s blood. And I require\nthee, most famous knight of the world, that thou wilt see my tomb.\u2014And\nthen Sir Gawaine wept, and king Arthur wept, and then they swooned\nboth. And when they awaked both, the king made Sir Gawaine to receive\nhis Saviour. And then Sir Gawaine prayed the king to send for Sir\nLauncelot, and to cherish him above all other knights. And so at the\nhour of noon, Sir Gawaine yielded up the spirit. And then the king let\ninter him in a chapel within Dover castle; and there yet all men may\nsee the skull of him, and the same wound is seen that Sir Launcelot\ngave him in battle. Then was it told king Arthur that Sir Mordred had\npitched a new field upon Barham Down. And upon the morn the king rode\nthither to him, and there was a great battle betwixt them, and much\npeople were slain on both parties. But at the last Sir Arthur\u2019s party\nstood best, and Sir Mordred and his party fled unto Canterbury.\n\n\n CHAP. III.\n\n_How after Sir Gawaine\u2019s ghost appeared to king Arthur, and warned him\n that he should not fight that day._\n\nAnd then the king let search all the towns for his knights that were\nslain, and interred them; and salved them with soft salves that so sore\nwere wounded. Then much people drew unto king Arthur. And then they\nsaid that Sir Mordred warred upon king Arthur with wrong. And then king\nArthur drew him with his host down by the sea side, westward toward\nSalisbury, and there was a day assigned between king Arthur and Sir\nMordred, and they should meet upon a down beside Salisbury, and not far\nfrom the sea side, and this day was assigned on a Monday after Trinity\nSunday, whereof king Arthur was passing glad, that he might be avenged\nupon Sir Mordred. Then Sir Mordred araised much people about London,\nfor they of Kent, Southsex, and Surrey, Estsex, and Southfolk, and of\nNorthfolk, held the most party with Sir Mordred, and many a full noble\nknight drew unto Sir Mordred and to the king; but they that loved Sir\nLauncelot drew unto Sir Mordred. So upon Trinity Sunday at night king\nArthur dreamed a wonderful dream, and that was this, that him seemed he\nsat upon a chaflet in a chair, and the chair was fast to a wheel, and\nthereupon sat king Arthur in the richest cloth of gold that might be\nmade: and the king thought there was under him, far from him, an\nhideous deep black water, and therein were all manner of serpents, and\nworms, and wild beasts, fowl and horrible: and suddenly the king\nthought the wheel turned up so down, and he fell among the serpents,\nand every beast took him by a limb. And then the king cried as he lay\nin his bed and slept, Help! And then knights, squires, and yeomen\nawaked the king; and then he was so amazed that he wist not where he\nwas. And then he fell on slumbering again, not sleeping nor thoroughly\nwaking. So the king seemed verily that there came Sir Gawaine unto him\nwith a number of fair ladies with him. And when king Arthur saw him,\nthen he said, Welcome, my sister\u2019s son, I wend thou hadst been dead,\nand now I see thee on live, much am I beholding unto Almighty Jesu. Oh,\nfair nephew, and my sister\u2019s son, what be these ladies that hither be\ncome with you? Sir, said Sir Gawaine, all these be ladies for whom I\nhave foughten when I was man living: and all these are those that I did\nbattle for in righteous quarrel. And God hath given them that grace at\ntheir great prayer, because I did battle for them, that they should\nbring me hither unto you, thus much had God given me leave, for to warn\nyou of your death; for and ye fight as to-morn with Sir Mordred, as ye\nboth have assigned, doubt ye not ye must be slain, and the most part of\nyour people on both parties. And for the great grace and goodness that\nAlmighty Jesu hath unto you, and for pity of you and many more other\ngood men there shall be slain, God hath sent me to you, of his special\ngrace, to give you warning, that in no wise ye do battle as to-morn,\nbut that ye take a treaty for a month day; and proffer you largely, so\nas to-morn to be put in a delay. For within a month shall come Sir\nLauncelot, with all his noble knights, and rescue you worshipfully, and\nslay Sir Mordred and all that ever will hold with him. Then Sir Gawaine\nand all the ladies vanished. And anon the king called upon his knights,\nsquires, and yeomen, and charged them wightly to fetch his noble lords\nand wise bishops unto him. And when they were come, the king told them\nhis vision, what Sir Gawaine had told him, and warned him that if he\nfought on the morn he should be slain. Then the king commanded Sir\nLucan de butlere, and his brother Sir Bedivere, with two bishops with\nthem, and charged them in any wise and they might take a treaty for a\nmonth day with Sir Mordred;\u2014And spare not, proffer him lands and\ngoods, as much as ye think best. So then they departed, and came to Sir\nMordred, where he had a grim host of an hundred thousand men. And there\nthey intreated Sir Mordred long time, and at the last Sir Mordred was\nagreed for to have Cornwall and Kent, by king Arthur\u2019s days:\u2014after,\nall England, after the days of king Arthur.\n\n\n CHAP. IV.\n\n_How by misadventure of an adder the battle began, where Mordred was\n slain, and Arthur hurt to the death._\n\nThen were they condescended that king Arthur and Sir Mordred should\nmeet betwixt both their hosts, and every each of them should bring\nfourteen persons. And they came with this word unto king Arthur. Then\nsaid he, I am glad that this is done. And so he went into the field.\nAnd when Arthur should depart, he warned all his host that and they see\nany sword drawn, Look ye come on fiercely, and slay that traitor Sir\nMordred, for I in no wise trust him. In like wise Sir Mordred warned\nhis host that,\u2014And ye see any sword drawn, look that ye come on\nfiercely, and so slay all that ever before you standeth: for in no wise\nI will not trust for this treaty: for I know well my father will be\navenged upon me. And so they met as their pointment was, and so they\nwere agreed and accorded thoroughly: and wine was fetched, and they\ndrank. Right so came an adder out of a little heath bush, and it stung\na knight on the foot. And when the knight felt him stungen, he looked\ndown and saw the adder, and then he drew his sword to slay the adder,\nand thought of none other harm. And when the host on both parties saw\nthat sword drawn, then they blew beames, trumpets, and horns, and\nshouted grimly. And so both hosts dressed them together. And king\nArthur took his horse, and said, Alas this unhappy day, and so rode to\nhis party: and Sir Mordred in likewise. And never was there seen a more\ndolefuller battle in no christian land. For there was but rushing and\nriding, foining and striking, and many a grim word was there spoken\neither to other, and many a deadly stroke. But ever king Arthur rode\nthroughout the battle of Sir Mordred many times, and did full nobly as\na noble king should; and at all times he fainted never. And Sir Mordred\nthat day put him in devoir, and in great peril. And thus they fought\nall the long day, and never stinted, till the noble knights were laid\nto the cold ground, and ever they fought still, till it was near night,\nand by that time was there an hundred thousand laid dead upon the down.\nThen was Arthur wroth out of measure, when he saw his people so slain\nfrom him. Then the king looked about him, and then was he ware of all\nhis host, and of all his good knights, were left no more on live but\ntwo knights, that was Sir Lucan de butlere, and his brother Sir\nBedivere: and they full were sore wounded. Jesu mercy, said the king,\nwhere are all my noble knights becomen. Alas that ever I should see\nthis doleful day. For now, said Arthur, I am come to mine end. But\nwould to God that I wist where were that traitor Sir Mordred, that hath\ncaused all this mischief. Then was king Arthur ware where Sir Mordred\nleaned upon his sword among a great heap of dead men. Now give me my\nspear, said Arthur unto Sir Lucan, for yonder I have espied the traitor\nthat all this woe hath wrought. Sir, let him be, said Sir Lucan, for he\nis unhappy: and if ye pass this unhappy day, ye shall be right well\nrevenged upon him. Good lord, remember ye of your night\u2019s dream, and\nwhat the spirit of Sir Gawaine told you this night, yet God of his\ngreat goodness hath preserved you hitherto. Therefore, for God\u2019s sake,\nmy lord, leave off by this. For blessed be God ye have won the field:\nfor here we be three on live, and with Sir Mordred is none on live. And\nif ye leave off now, this wicked day of destiny is past. Tide me death,\nbetide me life, saith the king, now I see him yonder alone, he shall\nnever escape mine hands, for at a better avail shall I never have him.\nGod speed you well, said Sir Bedivere. Then the king gat his spear in\nboth his hands, and ran toward Sir Mordred, crying, Traitor, now is thy\ndeath day come. And when Sir Mordred heard Sir Arthur, he ran until him\nwith his sword drawn in his hand. And then king Arthur smote Sir\nMordred under the shield, with a foin of his spear throughout the body\nmore than a fathom. And when Sir Mordred felt that he had his death\u2019s\nwound, he thrust himself, with the might that he had, up to the bur of\nking Arthur\u2019s spear. And right so he smote his father Arthur with his\nsword holden in both his hands, on the side of the head, that the sword\npierced the helmet and the brain-pan, and therewithal Sir Mordred fell\nstark dead to the earth. And the noble Arthur fell in a swoon to the\nearth, and there he swooned oft-times. And Sir Lucan de butlere and Sir\nBedivere oft-times heaved him up, and so weakly they led him betwixt\nthem both to a little chapel not far from the sea side. And when the\nking was there, he thought him well eased. Then heard they people cry\nin the field. Now go thou, Sir Lucan, said the king, and do me to wit\nwhat betokens that noise in the field. So Sir Lucan departed, for he\nwas grievously wounded in many places. And so as he went, he saw and\nhearkened by the moon-light, how the pillers and robbers were come into\nthe field to pill and to rob many a full noble knight of broaches and\nbeads, of many a good ring, and of many a rich jewel; and who that were\nnot dead all out, there they slew them for their harness and their\nriches. When Sir Lucan understood this work, he came to the king as\nsoon as he might, and told him all what he had heard and seen.\nTherefore by mine advice, said Sir Lucan, it is best that we bring you\nto some town. I would it were so, said the king,\u2014\n\n\n CHAP. V.\n\n_How king Arthur commanded to cast his sword Excalibur into the water,\n and how he was delivered to ladies in a barge._\n\nBut I may not stand, my head works so. Ah, Sir Launcelot, said king\nArthur, this day have I sore missed thee. Alas, that ever I was against\nthee, for now have I my death, whereof Sir Gawaine me warned in my\ndream. Then Sir Lucan took up the king the one part, and Sir Bedivere\nthe other part, and in the lifting, the king swooned, and Sir Lucan\nfell in a swoon with the lift, that the part of his bowels fell out of\nhis body, and therewith the noble knight\u2019s heart brast. And when king\nArthur came to himself again, he beheld Sir Lucan how he lay foaming at\nthe mouth, and part of his bowels lay at his feet. Alas, said the king,\nthis is unto me a full heavy sight to see this noble duke so die for my\nsake, for he would have holpen me that had more need of help than I.\nAlas, he would not complain him, his heart was so set to help me. Now\nJesu have mercy upon his soul. Then Sir Bedivere wept for the death of\nhis brother. Leave this mourning and weeping, said the king, for all\nthis will not avail me: for, wit thou well, and I might live myself the\ndeath of Sir Lucan would grieve me evermore; but my time hieth fast,\nsaid the king. Therefore, said Arthur, take thou Excalibur, my good\nsword, and go with it to yonder water side, and when thou comest there,\nI charge thee throw my sword in that water, and come again, and tell me\nwhat thou there seest. My lord, said Bedivere, your commandment shall\nbe done, and lightly bring you word again. So Sir Bedivere departed,\nand by the way he beheld that noble sword, that the pommel and haft\nwere all of precious stones, and then he said to himself, If I throw\nthis rich sword in the water, thereof shall never come good, but harm\nand loss. And then Sir Bedivere hid Excalibur under a tree. And as soon\nas he might he came again unto the king, and said he had been at the\nwater, and had thrown the sword into the water. What sawest thou there?\nsaid the king. Sir, he said, I saw nothing but waves and winds. That is\nuntruly said of thee, said the king; therefore go thou lightly again,\nand do my command as thou art to me lief and dear, spare not, but throw\nit in. Then Sir Bedivere returned again, and took the sword in his\nhand; and then him thought sin and shame to throw away that noble\nsword; and so eft he hid the sword, and returned again, and told to the\nking that he had been at the water, and done his commandment. What saw\nthou there? said the king. Sir, he said, I saw nothing but the waters\nwap and the waves wan. Ah traitor, untrue, said king Arthur, now hast\nthou betrayed me twice. Who would have wend that thou that hast been to\nme so lief and dear, and thou art named a noble knight, and would\nbetray me for the riches of the sword. But now go again lightly, for\nthy long tarrying putteth me in great jeopardy of my life, for I have\ntaken cold. And but if thou do now as I bid thee, if ever I may see\nthee, I shall slay thee with mine own hands, for thou wouldest for my\nrich sword see me dead. Then Sir Bedivere departed, and went to the\nsword, and lightly took it up, and went to the water side, and there he\nbound the girdle about the hilts, and then he threw the sword as far\ninto the water as he might, and there came an arm and an hand above the\nwater, and met it, and caught it, and so shook it thrice and\nbrandished, and then vanished away the hand with the sword in the\nwater. So Sir Bedivere came again to the king, and told him what he\nsaw. Alas, said the king, help me hence, for I dread me I have tarried\nover long. Then Sir Bedivere took the king upon his back, and so went\nwith him to that water side. And when they were at the water side, even\nfast by the bank hoved a little barge, with many fair ladies in it, and\namong them all was a queen, and all they had black hoods, and all they\nwept and shrieked when they saw king Arthur. Now put me into the barge,\nsaid the king: and so he did softly. And there received him three\nqueens with great mourning, and so they set him down, and in one of\ntheir laps king Arthur laid his head, and then that queen said, Ah,\ndear brother, why have ye tarried so long from me? Alas, this wound on\nyour head hath caught over much cold. And so then they rowed from the\nland; and Sir Bedivere beheld all those ladies go from him. Then Sir\nBedivere cried, Ah, my lord Arthur, what shall become of me now ye go\nfrom me, and leave me here alone among mine enemies. Comfort thyself,\nsaid the king, and do as well as thou mayest, for in me is no trust for\nto trust in. For I will into the vale of Avilion, to heal me of my\ngrievous wound. And if thou hear never more of me, pray for my soul.\nBut ever the queens and the ladies wept and shrieked, that it was pity\nto hear. And as soon as Sir Bedivere had lost the sight of the barge,\nhe wept and wailed, and so took the forest, and so he went all that\nnight, and in the morning he was ware betwixt two holts hoar of a\nchapel and an hermitage.\n\n\n CHAP. VI.\n\n_How Sir Bedivere found him on the morrow dead in an hermitage, and how\n he abode there with the hermit._\n\nThen was Sir Bedivere glad, and thither he went; and when he came into\nthe chapel, he saw where lay an hermit groveling on all four, there\nfast by a tomb was new graven. When the hermit saw Sir Bedivere, he\nknew him well, for he was but a little before bishop of Canterbury,\nthat Sir Mordred banished. Sir, said Sir Bedivere, what man is there\ninterred that ye pray so fast for? Fair son, said the hermit, I wot not\nverily, but by deeming. But this night, at midnight, here came a number\nof ladies, and brought hither a dead corpse, and prayed me to bury him;\nand here they offered an hundred tapers, and gave me an hundred\nbesants. Alas, said Sir Bedivere, that was my lord king Arthur, that\nhere lieth buried in this chapel! Then Sir Bedivere swooned, and when\nhe awoke he prayed the hermit he might abide with him still there, to\nlive with fasting and prayers. For from hence will I never go, said Sir\nBedivere, by my will, but all the days of my life here to pray for my\nlord Arthur. Ye are welcome to me, said the hermit, for I know you\nbetter than ye ween that I do. Ye are the bold Bedivere, and the full\nnoble duke Sir Lucan de butlere was your brother. Then Sir Bedivere\ntold the hermit all as ye have heard tofore. So there bode Sir Bedivere\nwith the hermit, that was tofore bishop of Canterbury, and there Sir\nBedivere put upon him poor clothes, and served the hermit full lowly in\nfasting and in prayers.\n\nThus of Arthur I find never more written in books that be authorized,\nnor more of the certainty of his death heard I never tell, but thus was\nhe led away in a ship wherein were three queens; that one was king\nArthur\u2019s sister queen Morgan le Fay; the other was the queen of\nNorthgalis; the third was the queen of the Waste Lands. Also there was\nNimue, the chief Lady of the lake, that had wedded Pelleas the good\nknight; and this lady had done much for king Arthur; for she would\nnever suffer Sir Pelleas to be in no place where he should be in danger\nof his life, and so he lived to the uttermost of his days with her in\ngreat rest. More of the death of king Arthur could I never find, but\nthat ladies brought him to his burials; and such one was buried there,\nthat the hermit bare witness that some time was bishop of Canterbury,\nbut yet the hermit knew not in certain that he was verily the body of\nking Arthur;\u2014for this tale Sir Bedivere, knight of the Round Table,\nmade it to be written.\n\n\n CHAP. VII.\n\n_Of the opinion of some men of the death of king Arthur; and how queen\n Guenever made her a nun in Almesbury._\n\nYet some men yet say in many parts of England that king Arthur is not\ndead, but had by the will of our Lord Jesu in another place. And men\nsay that he shall come again, and he shall win the holy cross. I will\nnot say it shall be so, but rather I will say, here in this world he\nchanged his life. But many men say that there is written upon his tomb\nthis verse,\n\n =Hic iacet Arthurus Rex quondam Rex que futurus.=\n\nThus leave I here Sir Bedivere with the hermit, that dwelled that time\nin a chapel beside Glastonbury, and there was his hermitage. And so\nthey lived in their prayers and fastings and great abstinence. And when\nqueen Guenever understood that king Arthur was slain, and all the noble\nknights, Sir Mordred and all the remnant, then the queen stole away,\nand five ladies with her, and so she went to Almesbury, and there she\nlet make herself a nun, and wore white clothes and black, and great\npenance she took, as ever did sinful lady in this land, and never\ncreature could make her merry, but lived in fasting, prayers, and\nalms-deeds, that all manner of people marvelled how virtuously she was\nchanged. Now leave we queen Guenever in Almesbury a nun in white\nclothes and black, and there she was abbess and ruler, as reason would;\nand turn we from her, and speak we of Sir Launcelot du Lake.\n\n\n CHAP. VIII.\n\n_How when Sir Launcelot heard of the death of king Arthur, and of Sir\n Gawaine, and other matters, he came into England._\n\nAnd when he heard in his country that Sir Mordred was crowned king in\nEngland, and made war against king Arthur his own father, and would let\nhim to land in his own land; also it was told Sir Launcelot how that\nSir Mordred had laid siege about the tower of London, because the queen\nwould not wed him; then was Sir Launcelot wroth out of measure, and\nsaid to his kinsmen, Alas, that double traitor Sir Mordred, now me\nrepenteth that ever he escaped my hands, for much shame hath he done\nunto my lord Arthur. For all I feel by the doleful letter that my lord\nGawaine sent me, on whose soul Jesu have mercy, that my lord Arthur is\nright hard bested. Alas, said Sir Launcelot, that ever I should live to\nhear that most noble king, that made me knight, thus to be overset with\nhis subject in his own realm. And this doleful letter that my lord Sir\nGawaine hath sent me afore his death, praying me to see his tomb, wit\nyou well his doleful words shall never go from mine heart. For he was a\nfull noble knight as ever was born, and in an unhappy hour was I born,\nthat ever I should have that unhap to slay first Sir Gawaine, Sir\nGaheris the good knight, and mine own friend Sir Gareth, that full\nnoble knight. Alas, I may say I am unhappy, said Sir Launcelot, that\never I should do thus unhappily; and, alas, yet might I never have hap\nto slay that traitor Sir Mordred. Leave your complaints, said Sir Bors,\nand first revenge you of the death of Sir Gawaine, and it will be well\ndone that ye see Sir Gawaine\u2019s tomb, and secondly that ye revenge my\nlord Arthur and my lady queen Guenever. I thank you, said Sir\nLauncelot, for ever ye will my worship. Then they made them ready in\nall the haste that might be, with ships and galleys with Sir Launcelot\nand his host, to pass into England. And so he passed over the sea till\nhe came to Dover: and there he landed with seven kings, and the number\nwas hideous to behold. Then Sir Launcelot enquired of men of Dover\nwhere was king Arthur become? Then the people told him how that he was\nslain, and Sir Mordred and an hundred thousand died on a day, and how\nSir Mordred gave king Arthur there the first battle at his landing, and\nthere was good Sir Gawaine slain, and on the morn Sir Mordred fought\nwith the king upon Barham Down, and there the king put Sir Mordred to\nthe worse. Alas, said Sir Launcelot, this is the heaviest tidings that\never came to me. Now, fair sirs, said Sir Launcelot, shew me the tomb\nof Sir Gawaine. And then certain people of the town brought him into\nthe castle of Dover, and showed him the tomb. Then Sir Launcelot\nkneeled down and wept and prayed heartily for his soul. And that night\nhe made a dole, and all they that would come had as much flesh, fish,\nwine, and ale, and every man and woman had twelve pence, come who\nwould. Thus with his own hand dealt he his money in a mourning gown;\nand ever he wept, and prayed them to pray for the soul of Sir Gawaine.\nAnd on the morn all the priests and clerks that might be gotten in the\ncountry were there, and sung mass of Requiem. And there offered first\nSir Launcelot and he offered an hundred pound, and then the seven kings\noffered forty pound a piece, and also there was a thousand knights, and\neach of them offered a pound, and the offering dured from morn till\nnight. And Sir Launcelot lay two nights on his tomb in prayers and in\nweeping. Then on the third day Sir Launcelot called the kings, dukes,\nearls, barons and knights, and said thus: My fair lords, I thank you\nall of your coming into this country with me; but we come too late, and\nthat shall repent me while I live, but against death may no man rebel.\nBut sithen it is so, said Sir Launcelot, I will myself ride and seek my\nlady queen Guenever, for as I hear say, she hath great pain and much\ndisease, and I heard say that she is fled into the west country,\ntherefore ye all that abide me here, and but if I come again within\nfifteen days, then take your ships, and your fellowship, and depart\ninto your country. For I will do as I say to you.\n\n\n CHAP. IX.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot departed to seek the queen Guenever, and how he\n found her at Almesbury._\n\nThen came Sir Bors de Ganis, and said, My lord Sir Launcelot, what\nthink ye for to do, now to ride in this realm? wit thou well ye shall\nfind few friends. Be as be may, said Sir Launcelot, keep you still\nhere, for I will forth on my journey, and no man nor child shall go\nwith me. So it was no boot to strive, but he departed and rode\nwesterly, and there he sought a seven or eight days, and at the last he\ncame to a nunnery, and then was queen Guenever ware of Sir Launcelot as\nhe walked in the cloister, and when she saw him there she swooned\nthrice, that all the ladies and gentlewomen had work enough to hold the\nqueen up. So when she might speak, she called ladies and gentlewomen to\nher, and said, Ye marvel, fair ladies, why I make this fare. Truly, she\nsaid, it is for the sight of yonder knight that yonder standeth:\nwherefore, I pray you all, call him to me. When Sir Launcelot was\nbrought to her, then she said to all the ladies, Through this man and\nme hath all this war been wrought, and the death of the most noblest\nknights of the world; for through our love that we have loved together\nis my most noble lord slain. Therefore, Sir Launcelot, wit thou well I\nam set in such a plight to get my soul\u2019s health; and yet I trust,\nthrough God\u2019s grace, that after my death to have a sight of the blessed\nface of Christ, and at doomsday to sit on his right side, for as sinful\nas ever I was are saints in heaven. Therefore, Sir Launcelot, I require\nthee and beseech thee heartily, for all the love that ever was betwixt\nus, that thou never see me more in the visage; and I command thee on\nGod\u2019s behalf, that thou forsake my company, and to thy kingdom thou\nturn again and keep well thy realm from war and wrack. For as well as I\nhave loved thee, mine heart will not serve me to see thee; for through\nthee and me is the flower of kings and knights destroyed. Therefore,\nSir Launcelot, go to thy realm, and there take thee a wife, and live\nwith her with joy and bliss, and I pray thee heartily pray for me to\nour Lord, that I may amend my mis-living. Now, sweet madam, said Sir\nLauncelot, would ye that I should return again unto my country, and\nthere to wed a lady? Nay, madam, wit you well that shall I never do:\nfor I shall never be so false to you of that I have promised, but the\nsame destiny that ye have taken you to, I will take me unto, for to\nplease Jesu, and ever for you I cast me specially to pray. If thou wilt\ndo so, said the queen, hold thy promise; but I may never believe but\nthat thou wilt turn to the world again. Well, madam, said he, ye say as\npleaseth you, yet wist you me never false of my promise, and God defend\nbut I should forsake the world as ye have done. For in the quest of the\nSancgreal I had forsaken the vanities of the world, had not your lord\nbeen. And if I had done so at that time with my heart, will, and\nthought, I had passed all the knights that were in the Sancgreal,\nexcept Sir Galahad my son. And therefore, lady, sithen ye have taken\nyou to perfection, I must needs take me to perfection of right. For I\ntake record of God, in you I have had mine earthly joy. And if I had\nfound you now so disposed, I had cast me to have had you into mine own\nrealm.\n\n\n CHAP. X.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot came to the hermitage where the archbishop of\n Canterbury was, and how he took the habit on him._\n\nBut sithen I find you thus disposed, I insure you faithfully I will\never take me to penance, and pray while my life lasteth, if that I may\nfind any hermit either grey or white that will receive me. Wherefore,\nmadam, I pray you kiss me, and never no more. Nay, said the queen, that\nshall I never do, but abstain you from such works. And they departed.\nBut there was never so hard an hearted man, but he would have wept to\nsee the dolour that they made. For there was lamentation as they had\nbeen stung with spears, and many times they swooned. And the ladies\nbare the queen to her chamber, and Sir Launcelot awoke, and went and\ntook his horse, and rode all that day and all that night in a forest,\nweeping. And at the last he was ware of an hermitage and a chapel stood\nbetwixt two cliffs, and then he heard a little bell ring to mass, and\nthither he rode and alight, and tied his horse to the gate, and heard\nmass. And he that sang mass was the bishop of Canterbury. Both the\nbishop and Sir Bedivere knew Sir Launcelot, and they spake together\nafter mass. But when Sir Bedivere had told his tale all whole, Sir\nLauncelot\u2019s heart almost brast for sorrow, and Sir Launcelot threw his\narms abroad, and said, Alas, who may trust this world! And then he\nkneeled down on his knees, and prayed the Bishop to shrive him and\nassoil him. And then he besought the bishop that he might be his\nbrother. Then the bishop said, I will gladly: and there he put an habit\nupon Sir Launcelot, and there he served God day and night with prayers\nand fastings.\n\nThus the great host abode at Dover. And then Sir Lionel took fifteen\nlords with him, and rode to London to seek Sir Launcelot. And there Sir\nLionel was slain and many of his lords. Then Sir Bors de Ganis made the\ngreat host for to go home again. And Sir Bors, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir\nBlamor, Sir Bleoberis, with more other of Sir Launcelot\u2019s kin, look on\nthem to ride all England overthwart and endlong, to seek Sir Launcelot.\nSo Sir Bors by fortune rode so long till he came to the same chapel\nwhere Sir Launcelot was. And so Sir Bors heard a little bell knell that\nrang to mass, and there he alight, and heard mass. And when mass was\ndone, the bishop, Sir Launcelot, and Sir Bedivere came to Sir Bors. And\nwhen Sir Bors saw Sir Launcelot in that manner clothing, then he prayed\nthe bishop that he might be in the same suit. And so there was an habit\nput upon him, and there he lived in prayers and fasting. And within\nhalf a year there was come Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Blamor, Sir\nBleoberis, Sir Williars, Sir Clarrus, and Sir Gahalantine. So all these\nseven noble knights there abode still. And when they saw Sir Launcelot\nhad taken him unto such perfection, they had no list to depart, but\ntook such an habit as he had. Thus they endured in great penance six\nyear, and then Sir Launcelot took the habit of priesthood, and a\ntwelvemonth he sang mass. And there was none of these other knights but\nthey read in books, and holp to sing mass, and rang bells, and did\nbodily all manner of service. And so their horses went where they\nwould, for they took no regard of no worldly riches. For when they saw\nSir Launcelot endure such penance, in prayers and fasting, they took no\nforce what pain they endured, for to see the noblest knight of the\nworld take such abstinence, that he waxed full lean. And thus upon a\nnight there came a vision to Sir Launcelot, and charged him, in\nremission of his sins, to haste him unto Almesbury,\u2014And by then thou\ncome there, thou shalt find queen Guenever dead: and therefore take thy\nfellows with thee, and purvey them of an horse bier, and fetch thou the\ncorpse of her, and bury her by her husband the noble king Arthur. So\nthis vision came to Launcelot thrice in one night.\n\n\n CHAP. XI.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot went with his seven fellows to Almesbury, and found\n there queen Guenever dead, whom they brought to Glastonbury._\n\nThen Sir Launcelot rose up or day, and told the hermit. It were well\ndone, said the hermit, that ye made you ready, and that ye disobey not\nthe vision. Then Sir Launcelot took his seven fellows with him, and on\nfoot they went from Glastonbury to Almesbury, the which is little more\nthan thirty miles. And thither they came within two days, for they were\nweak and feeble to go. And when Sir Launcelot was come to Almesbury,\nwithin the nunnery, queen Guenever died but half an hour before. And\nthe ladies told Sir Launcelot that queen Guenever told them all, or she\npassed, that Sir Launcelot had been priest near a twelvemonth,\u2014And\nhither he cometh as fast as he may to fetch my corpse: and beside my\nlord king Arthur he shall bury me. Wherefore the queen said in hearing\nof them all, I beseech Almighty God that I may never have power to see\nSir Launcelot with my worldly eyes. And thus, said all the ladies, was\never her prayer these two days, till she was dead. Then Sir Launcelot\nsaw her visage, but he wept not greatly, but sighed. And so he did all\nthe observance of the service himself, both the Dirige, and on the morn\nhe sang mass. And there was ordained an horse bier; and so with an\nhundred torches ever burning about the corpse of the queen, and ever\nSir Launcelot with his eight fellows went about the horse bier singing\nand reading many an holy orison, and frankincense upon the corpse\nincensed. Thus Sir Launcelot and his eight fellows went on foot from\nAlmesbury unto Glastonbury; and when they were come to the chapel and\nthe hermitage, there she had a Dirige with great devotion. And on the\nmorn the hermit, that sometime was bishop of Canterbury, sang the mass\nof Requiem with great devotion: and Sir Launcelot was the first that\noffered, and then all his eight fellows. And then she was wrapped in\ncered cloth of Raines, from the top to the toe in thirty fold, and\nafter she was put in a web of lead, and then in a coffin of marble. And\nwhen she was put in the earth, Sir Launcelot swooned, and lay long\nstill, while the hermit came out and awaked him, and said, Ye be to\nblame, for ye displease God with such manner of sorrow making. Truly,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, I trust I do not displease God, for He knoweth mine\nintent, for my sorrow was not, nor is not, for any rejoicing of sin,\nbut my sorrow may never have end. For when I remember of her beauty,\nand of her noblesse, that was both with her king and with her; so when\nI saw his corpse and her corpse so lie together, truly mine heart would\nnot serve to sustain my careful body. Also when I remember me, how by\nmy default, mine orgule, and my pride, that they were both laid full\nlow, that were peerless that ever was living of Christian people, wit\nyou well, said Sir Launcelot, this remembered, of their kindness and\nmine unkindness, sank so to my heart, that I might not sustain myself.\nSo the French book maketh mention.\n\n\n CHAP. XII.\n\n_How Sir Launcelot began to sicken, and after died, whose body was\n borne to Joyous Gard for to be buried._\n\nThen Sir Launcelot never after eat but little meat, nor drank, till he\nwas dead; for then he sickened more and more, and dried and dwined\naway; for the bishop nor none of his fellows might not make him to eat,\nand little he drank, that he was waxen by a cubit shorter than he was,\nthat the people could not know him; for evermore day and night he\nprayed, but sometime he slumbered a broken sleep, and ever he was lying\ngroveling on the tomb of king Arthur and queen Guenever. And there was\nno comfort that the bishop, nor Sir Bors, nor none of his fellows could\nmake him, it availed not. So within six weeks after, Sir Launcelot fell\nsick, and lay in his bed; and then he sent for the bishop that there\nwas hermit, and all his true fellows. Then Sir Launcelot said with\ndreary voice, Sir bishop, I pray you give to me all my rights that\nlongeth to a Christian man. It shall not need you, said the hermit and\nall his fellows, it is but heaviness of your blood: ye shall be well\namended by the grace of God to-morn. My fair lords, said Sir Launcelot,\nwit you well, my careful body will into the earth. I have warning more\nthen now I will say, therefore give me my rights. So when he was\nhouseled and eneled, and had all that a Christian man ought to have, he\nprayed the bishop that his fellows might bear his body to Joyous Gard.\nSome men say it was Anwick, and some men say it was Bamborow. Howbeit,\nsaid Sir Launcelot, me repenteth sore, but I made mine avow sometime\nthat in Joyous Gard I would be buried, and because of breaking of mine\navow, I pray you all lead me thither. Then there was weeping and\nwringing of hands among his fellows. So at a season of the night they\nwent all to their beds, for they all lay in one chamber. And so after\nmidnight, against day, the bishop that was hermit, as he lay in his bed\nasleep, he fell upon a great laughter: and therewith all the fellowship\nawoke, and came unto the bishop, and asked him what he ailed. Alas,\nsaid the bishop, why did ye awake me, I was never in all my life so\nmerry and so well at ease. Wherefore? said Sir Bors. Truly, said the\nbishop, here was Sir Launcelot with me, with more angels than ever I\nsaw men upon one day; and I saw the angels heave Sir Launcelot unto\nheaven, and the gates of heaven opened against him. It is but the\nvexing of dreams, said Sir Bors, for I doubt not Sir Launcelot aileth\nnothing but good. It may well be, said the bishop, go ye to his bed,\nand then shall ye prove the sooth. So when Sir Bors and his fellows\ncame to his bed they found him stark dead, and he lay as he had smiled,\nand the sweetest savour about him that ever they felt. Then was there\nweeping and wringing of hands, and the greatest dole they made that\never made men. And on the morn the bishop did his mass of Requiem; and\nafter the bishop and all the nine knights put Sir Launcelot in the same\nhorse bier that queen Guenever was laid in tofore that she was buried:\nand so the bishop and they altogether went with the corpse of Sir\nLauncelot daily, till they came to Joyous Gard, and ever they had an\nhundred torches burning about him; and so within fifteen days they came\nto Joyous Gard. And there they laid his corpse in the body of the\nquire, and sang and read many psalters and prayers over him and about\nhim; and ever his visage was laid open and naked, that all folk might\nbehold him; for such was the custom in those days, that all men of\nworship should so lie with open visage till that they were buried. And\nright thus as they were at their service, there came Sir Ector de\nMaris, that had seven year sought all England, Scotland, and Wales,\nseeking his brother Sir Launcelot.\n\n\n CHAP. XIII.\n\n_How Sir Ector found Sir Launcelot his brother dead. And how\n Constantine reigned next after Arthur, and of the end of this book._\n\nAnd when Sir Ector heard such noise and light in the quire of Joyous\nGard, he alight and put his horse from him, and came into the quire,\nand there he saw men sing and weep. And all they knew Sir Ector, but he\nknew not them. Then went Sir Bors unto Sir Ector, and told him how\nthere lay his brother Sir Launcelot dead. And then Sir Ector threw his\nshield, sword, and helm from him; and when he beheld Sir Launcelot\u2019s\nvisage he fell down in a swoon. And when he awaked it were hard any\ntongue to tell the doleful complaints that he made for his brother. Ah,\nLauncelot, he said, thou were head of all Christian knights; and now I\ndare say, said Sir Ector, thou Sir Launcelot, there thou liest, that\nthou were never matched of earthly knight\u2019s hand; and thou were the\ncourtiest knight that ever bare shield; and thou were the truest friend\nto thy lover that ever bestrode horse; and thou were the truest lover\nof a sinful man that ever loved woman; and thou were the kindest man\nthat ever strake with sword; and thou were the goodliest person ever\ncame among press of knights; and thou was the meekest man and the\ngentlest that ever ate in hall among ladies; and thou were the sternest\nknight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear in the rest.\n\nThen there was weeping and dolour out of measure. Thus they kept Sir\nLauncelot\u2019s corpse on loft fifteen days, and then they buried it with\ngreat devotion. And then at leisure they went all with the bishop of\nCanterbury to his hermitage, and there they were together more than a\nmonth. Then Sir Constantine, that was Sir Cador\u2019s son, of Cornwall, was\nchosen king of England; and he was a full noble knight, and\nworshipfully he ruled this realm. And then this king Constantine sent\nfor the bishop of Canterbury, for he heard say where he was; and so he\nwas restored unto his bishopric, and left that hermitage; and Sir\nBedivere was there ever still hermit to his life\u2019s end. Then Sir Bors\nde Ganis, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Gahalantine, Sir Galihud, Sir\nGalihodin, Sir Blamor, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Williars le Valiant, Sir\nClarrus of Cleremont; all these knights drew them to their countries.\nHowbeit king Constantine would have had them with him, but they would\nnot abide in this realm; and there they lived in their countries as\nholy men. And some English books make mention that they went never out\nof England after the death of Sir Launcelot, but that was but favour of\nmakers. For the French book maketh mention, and is authorised, that Sir\nBors, Sir Ector, Sir Blamor, and Sir Bleoberis, went into the holy\nland, there as Jesu Christ was quick and dead, and anon as they had\nstablished their lands; for the book saith so Sir Launcelot commanded\nthem for to do, or ever he passed out of this world. And these four\nknights did many battles upon the miscreants or Turks. And there they\ndied upon a Good Friday, for God\u2019s sake.\n\nHere is the end of the whole book of king Arthur, and of his noble\nknights of the Round Table, that when they were whole together there\nwas ever an hundred and forty. And here is the end of the Death of\nArthur. I pray you all gentlemen and gentlewomen that read this book of\nArthur and his knights from the beginning to the ending, pray for me\nwhile I am on live that God send me good deliverance, and when I am\ndead, I pray you all pray for my soul; for this book was ended the\nninth year of the reign of king Edward the Fourth by Sir Thomas\nMaleore, knight, as Jesu help him for his great might, as he is the\nservant of Jesu both day and night.\n\n\u00b6 Thus endeth thys noble and Ioyous book entytled le morte Darthur /\nNotwithstondyng it treateth of the byrth / lyf / and actes of the sayd\nkynge Arthur / of his noble knyghtes of the rounde table / theyr\nmeruayllous enquestes and aduentures / thachyeuyng of the sangreal / &\nin thende the dolourous deth & departyng out of thys world of them al /\nWhiche book was reduced in to englysshe by syr Thomas Malory knyght as\nafore is sayd / and by me deuyded in to xxi bookes chapytred and\nenprynted / and fynysshed in thabbey westmestre the last day of Iuyl\nthe yere of our lord M/CCCC/lxxx/V/\n\n \u00b6 Caxton me fieri fecit.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n NOTE A.\n\n _See Introduction, page xxxii. note 1_.\n\n\n\u2018Oh ye mighty and pompous lords, shining in the glory transitory of\nthis unstable life, as in reigning over realms great, and mighty\ncountries, fortified with strong castles and towers, edified with many\na rich city. Ye also, ye fierce and mighty chivalers, so valiant in\nadventurous deeds of arms, behold, behold, see how this mighty\nconqueror Arthur, whom in his human life all the world doubted\u2014ye\nalso, the noble queen Guenever, that sometime sat in her chair adorned\nwith gold, pearls, and precious stones, now lie full low in obscure\nfoss or pit covered with clods of earth and clay. Behold also this\nmighty champion Launcelot, peerless of knighthood, see now how he lieth\ngroveling on the cold mould, now being so feeble and faint that\nsometime was so terrible, how and in what manner ought ye to be so\ndesirous of the mundane honour so dangerous. Therefore me thinketh this\npresent book called La Morte Darthur is right necessary often to be\nread, for in it shall ye find the gracious, knightly, and virtuous war\nof most noble knights of the world, whereby they gat praising\ncontinual. Also me seemeth by the oft reading thereof ye shall greatly\ndesire to accustom yourself in following of those gracious knightly\ndeeds, that is to say, to dread God, and to love rightwiseness,\nfaithfully and courageously to serve your sovereign prince. And the\nmore that God hath given you the triumphal honour the meeker ye ought\nto be, ever fearing the unstableness of this deceivable world. And so I\npass over, and turn again to my matter.\u2019\n\n\n NOTE B.\n\n _See Introduction, page xxxiv. note 3._\n\nFor those who may care to see more of the manner in which the text of\nthe interpolated passages has been formed, I give the following\nspecimens in detail.\n\nThe first is from the beginning of the 11th Chapter of Book XXI.\n\n\n CAXTON.\n\n \u2018Than syr Launcelot rose vp or day/& tolde the heremyte/It were wel\n done sayd the heremyte that ye made you redy/& that ye dyshobeye\n not the auysyon/Than syr Launcelot toke his vii felowes with hym/&\n on fote they yede from glastynburye to almysburye the whyche is\n lytel more than xxx myle/& thyder they came within two dayes for\n they were wayke and feble to goo/& whan syr Launcelot was come to\n almysburye within the Nunerye quene gweneuer deyed but halfe an\n oure afore/and the ladyes tolde syr Launcelot that quene Gueneuer\n tolde hem al or she passyd/that syr Launcelot had been preest nere\n a twelue monthe/& hyder he cometh as faste as he may to fetch my\n cors/& besyde my lord kyng Arthur he shal berye me/\u2019\n\n\n WYNKYN DE WORDE, 1498.\n\n \u2018Thenne syre Launcelot rose vp or day. And tolde the heremyte. It\n were well doon sayd the heremyte/that ye made ye redy/and that ye\n dysobeye not the aduysyon. Then\u0113 syr Launcelot toke his .vij.\n felowes w^t hym/& on fote they yede from Glastynbury to Almesbury.\n the whyche is lytyl more than .xxx. myle. And thyder they came\n wythin two dayes for they were weyke & feble to go. And whan syr\n Launcelot was come to Almesbury wythin the Nunnery/quene Gweneuer\n deyed but halfe an houre afore/And the ladyes tolde syr\n Launcelot/that quene Gweneuer tolde them all or she passyd/that syr\n Launcelot had be preest nere a twelue month and hither he cometh as\n fast as he may/to fetche my corps. And besyde my lorde kyng\n Arthur/he shal bury me.\u2019\n\n\n UPCOTT.\n\n \u2018Than syr Launcelot rose vp or it was day, and tolde the heremyte\n therof. It were well done sayd the heremyte that ye made you redy,\n and that ye dysobeye not thys aduysyon. The[=n]e syr Launcelot toke\n his .vii felawes with hym, & on foote they yede from Glastynbury to\n Almesbury, the whyche is lytyl more than xxx myle. And thyder they\n came wythin two dayes for they were weyke and feble to go. And whan\n syr Launcelot was come to Almesbury wythin the Nonnery, quene\n Gweneuer deyed but halfe an houre afore. And the ladyes tolde syre\n Launcelot that quene Gueneuer tolde them all or she passyd, that\n syr Launcelot had been preest nere a twelue moneth, and hither he\n cometh as faste as he may for to fetche my corps. And besyde my\n lorde kynge Arthur he shal burye me.\u2019\n\nThe last lines of the same Chapter are as follows:\u2014\n\n\n CAXTON.\n\n \u2018For whan I remembre of hir beaulte and of hir noblesse that was\n bothe with hyr king & with hyr/So whan I sawe his corps and hir\n corps so lye togyders/truly myn herte wold not serue to susteyne my\n careful body/Also whan I rem\u0113bre me how by my defaut & myn orgule\n and my pryde/that they were bothe layed ful lowe that were pereles\n that euer was lyuyng of cristen people, wyt you wel sayd syr\n Launcelot/this remembred of there kyndnes and myn vnkyndnes sanke\n so to myn herte that I mi\u021dt not susteyne myself so the frensshe\n book maketh mencyon.\u2019\n\n\n UPCOTT.\n\n(Who follows Wynkyn de Worde exactly, except in the spelling, and in\nthe insertion of \u2018me\u2019 after \u2018wold not serue.\u2019)\n\n \u2018For whan I remembre _& calle to mynde_ her beaute, _bountee &_\n noblesse, that was _as wel_ wyth her kyng _my lord Arthur_ as wyth\n her. _And also_ whanne I saw _the corses of that noble kinge &\n noble quene_ so lye to gyder _in that colde graue made of erthe,\n that somtyme were so hyghly sette in moost honourable places_,\n truly myn herte wolde not serue _me_ to susteyne my _wretchyd &_\n carefull body. Also whan I remembre me how by my defawte myn\n orgulyte and my pride, that they were both layed full lowe whyche\n were pereles that euer were lyuenge of crysten peple, wyte yow wel\n sayd syr Launcelot, this remembred, of ther kyndnesse & _of_ myn\n vnkyndnesse, sanke _and enprest_ soo _in_ to my herte that _all my\n natural strengthe fayled me, so that_ I myghte not susteyne my\n selfe. Soo the frensshe boke makyth mencyon.\u2019\n\nThe several colophons are as follows:\u2014\n\n\n CAXTON.\n\n \u2018Thus endeth thys noble and Ioyous book entytled le morte\n Darthur/Notwithstondyng it treateth of the byrth/lyf/and actes of\n the sayd kynge Arthur/of his noble knyghtes of the rounde\n table/theyr meruayllous enquestes and aduentures/thachyeuyng of the\n sangreal/& in thende the dolourous deth & departyng out of thys\n world of them al/Whiche book was reduced in to englysshe by syr\n Thomas Malory knyght as afore is sayd/and by me deuyded in to xxi\n bookes chapytred and enprynted/and fynysshed in thabbey westmestre\n the last day of Iuyl the yere of our lord M/CCCC/lxxx/V/ Caxton me\n fieri fecit.\u2019/\n\n\n WYNKYN DE WORDE, 1498.\n\n \u2018Thus endyth this noble and Ioyous boke entytled Le morte dathur.\n Notwythstondyng it treateth of the byrth lyf & actes of the sayd\n kynge Arthur of his noble knyghtes of the rounde table. theyr\n merueyllous enquestes & aduentures. thachyeuynge of the Sancgreall.\n And in the ende the dolorous deth. & depaytynge out of this worlde\n of them al. Whyche boke was reduced in to Englysshe by the well\n dysposyd knyghte afore namyd. And deuyde[d] into .xxi. bokes\n chapitred. & enprynt[ed] fyrst by Wylliam Caxton/on who[se] soule\n god haue mercy. And newel[ye] prynted. and chapitres of the sam[e\n ru-]brisshed at Westmestre, by Wynk[yn de] Worde y^e yere of our\n lord. M.C[CCC].lxxxxviij. and ended the .xxv [daye of] Marche. the\n same yere.\u2019\n\n\n AMES.\n\n \u2018Thus endeth this noble and joyous boke, entytled La morte\n d\u2019Arthur. Notwithstondyng it treateth of the byrth, lyf, and actes\n of the sayd Kynge Arthur, of his noble knyghts of the rounde table,\n theyr merueylous enquestes and aduentures, thacheuynge of the\n Sancgreal and in the ende the dolourous deth and depaytynge out of\n this worlde of them al; whyche boke was reduced into Englysshe by\n syr Thomas Malory, Knight, as afore is sayd, and by me devyded into\n xxi. bookes, chapitred and enprynted, and fynisshed in thabbey,\n Westmestre, the last day of Juyl, the yere of our Lord MCCCCLXXXV.\n Caxton me fieri fecit.\u2019\n\n\n HARLEIAN CATALOGUE.\n\n \u2018The Byrth, Lyf, and Actes of Kyng Arthur; of his noble Knyghtes of\n the Rounde Table, theyr marvayllous Enquestes and Adventures; the\n Achyeviyng of the Sang real; and in the end le Morte d\u2019Arthur, with\n the dolourous Deth and Departyng out of thys world of them Al.\n Whiche Book was reduced to the Englysshe, by Syr Thomas Malory\n Knyght, and by me (_W. Caxton_) devyded into 21 bookes, chaptyred\n and emprynted, and fynyshed in th\u2019 Abbey Westmestre, the last day\n of July, the yere of our Lord 1485.\u2019\n\n\n UPCOTT.\n\n \u2018Thus endeth this noble & joyous booke entytled _La_ Mort _dathur_.\n Notwythstanding it treateth of the byrth, lyf & actes of the sayd\n Kynge Arthur, _&_ of his noble knyghtes of the Rounde Table, theyr\n marueyllous Enquestes & aduentures, thacheyuyng of the _Sang real_,\n and in the ende _le Morte darthur with_ the dolourous deth and\n departyng out of thys worlde of them al. Whiche booke was reduced\n in to Englysshe by Syr Thomas Malory knyght _as afore is sayd_, and\n by me deuyded in to xxi bookes chaptyred and emprynted and\n fynysshed in thabbey Westmestre the last day of July the yere of\n our lord MCCCCLXXXV. _Caxton me fieri fecit._\u2019\n\nOn a comparison of these colophons we see that the article _La_ is only\nin Ames: the spelling of _dathur_ is peculiar to Wynkyn de Worde, who\nhas it also in another passage; the words _le Morte darthur with_ are\nin the Harleian Catalogue only: _as afore is said_ is in neither of\nthese, but it is in Ames: the peculiar mode of writing _Sang real_[47],\nand the spelling of _chaptyred_, _emprynted_, _July_, are those of the\nHarleian Catalogue: the _&_ introduced after _Arthur_ in the second\nline is only in Upcott. _Caxton me fieri fecit_ is in Ames, but not in\nthe Harleian Catalogue.\n\nWhen I say in Ames or the Harleian Catalogue only, it will be\nunderstood that I include with the colophon of the former its\nmodernised copy in Dibdin; and with that of the latter its copies in\nHerbert and the Biographia Britannica; the references to all which I\nhave given in the passage of the Introduction to which this is a Note.\nThe first words of the colophon are omitted in the Harleian Catalogue,\nwhich gives it as the title of the book, as do the Biographia\nBritannica and Herbert. The framer of the Catalogue probably quotes\ndirectly, though inaccurately, from the Harleian (now the Osterley)\nMorte Darthur: and Ames must have made his extract independently from\nthe same volume. Dibdin attributes both the Harleian Catalogue and the\narticle in the Biographia Britannica to Oldys.\n\n-----\n\nFootnote 1:\n\n \u2018A braver soldier never couched lance,\n A gentler heart did never sway in court.\u2019\n\n First part of _Henry VI._ iii. 2.\n\nFootnote 2:\n\n _Le Morte Darthur_, edited from the Harleian MS. 2252, in the British\n Museum, by F. T. Furnivall, 1864.\n\nFootnote 3:\n\n The council of devils seems to have suggested that in _Paradise Lost_.\n\nFootnote 4:\n\n Geoffrey of Monmouth afterwards Bishop of St. Asaph wrote, or as he\n tells us, translated from a work in the British tongue his _Historiae\n Brithonum_ early in the 12th century.\n\nFootnote 5:\n\n Itinerary, ii. pp. 38, 39; Hearne, 1711.\n\nFootnote 6:\n\n Somersetshire Illustrated, by John Strachey, MS. 1736.\n\nFootnote 7:\n\n Polyolbion, 3rd Song.\n\nFootnote 8:\n\n Camelot: a Lecture delivered in 1889 by the Rev. J. H. Bennett. See\n also Proceedings of the Somersetshire Arch\u00e6ological Society, 1890.\n\nFootnote 9:\n\n _Gervasii Tilburiensis Otia Imperialia_, Decisio ii. cap. xii, de\n Insulis Mediterranei, in vol. I of \u2018Scriptores Rerum Brunsvicensium\n Illustrationi inservientes: Cura G. G. Leibnitzii, Hanov. MDCCVII.\u2019\n Gervase of Tilbury wrote about the beginning of the thirteenth\n century. He was at the Peace of Venice in 1177 A. D.; was Chancellor\n and Marshall of the kingdom of Arles about the year 1200; and died in\n 1235.\n\nFootnote 10:\n\n \u2018Renaissance in Italy,\u2019 by J. A. Symonds, iv. 17.\n\nFootnote 11:\n\n The passage, which also recounts the names of Ewaine, Gawaine, and\n Launcelot du Lac, is found in a charming episode in \u2018The Complaynt of\n Scotland\u2019 (written in 1548, and edited in 1801 by G. J. Leyden), in\n which the author tells how he went into the country to refresh his\n weary mind and body, and there fell in with a party of shepherds and\n shepherds\u2019 wives and servants, who amused themselves with telling a\n number of stories, classical and romantic, of which he gives the\n names. It is a prose idyll, which reminds us of the Canterbury Tales,\n and the Vision of Piers Plowman, in the love of nature and the love\n of story-telling which it displays. Here, and in the passage from\n Gervase, I quote from the originals; but my attention was first\n directed to these by Sir George Webb Dasent\u2019s quotations in his\n \u2018Popular Tales from the Norse,\u2019 p. xxix.\n\nFootnote 12:\n\n Roquefort, Glossaire de Langue Romane, art. \u2018Graal:\u2019 where are also\n given the original passages from the first three romances named in\n the text.\n\nFootnote 13:\n\n _Caffari Annales Genuenses_ in Muratori\u2019s _Italicarum Rerum\n Scriptores_, Tom. VI: Bent\u2019s _Genoa_; and Dunlop\u2019s _History of\n Fiction_, edited by H. Wilson, Vol. I, Supplementary Note on the\n Sangreal.\n\nFootnote 14:\n\n \u2018Pall Mall Gazette\u2019 of June 23, 1868.\n\nFootnote 15:\n\n \u2018The Schoolmaster,\u2019 by Roger Ascham; Book I. The Schoolmaster was\n published by his widow, in 1570.\n\nFootnote 16:\n\n \u2018Oh, may my lot grant such a friend who knows\n The art to crown with bays a poet\u2019s brows,\n If ever in the coming time my lay\n Our native kings shall call again to-day,\n Shall call up Arthur, even in worlds below\n Preparing wars against the heathen foe;\n Or tell of that great fellowship renown\u2019d\n The high-souled heroes of the Table Round,\n And break, if God his present aid affords,\n The Saxons\u2019 serried bands with British swords.\u2019\n\n It is curious to note that Milton with all his learning should, like\n Malory and Caxton, have spoken of the Britons as English, and the\n Saxons as foreigners\u2014a popular misuse of names which still makes the\n Lowland Scotch complain if they are called English instead of\n British, though they are in fact more English than the English in\n language and in blood.\n\nFootnote 17:\n\n \u2018There be 2 Lordshipps lyenge not very far from _Ripon_ ... _Malory_\n hath _Hutton Coniers_. Thes Lands cam to their Aunciters by two\n Dowghtars, Heirs generall of that _Coniers_. _Malory_ hath another\n place caullyd _Highe Studly_, a litle from Fountaines.\u2019 Leland\u2019s\n Itinerary, viii. 2. p. 55. Hearne, 1712.\n\nFootnote 18:\n\n These two dates are obligingly given me by G. W. Tomlinson, Esq.,\n Secretary of the Yorkshire Arch\u00e6ological Society.\n\nFootnote 19:\n\n Noble\u2019s Spanish Armada List, 1886, p. 42.\n\nFootnote 20:\n\n Brown\u2019s Genesis of the United States, 1890. Vol. I, p. 211; Vol. II,\n p. 940.\n\nFootnote 21:\n\n Burton\u2019s Description of Leicestershire, pp. 140, 262.\n\nFootnote 22:\n\n Kirby\u2019s Register of the Wardens, Fellows, and Scholars of Winchester,\n 1888, quoted by Mr. L. Johnson in the Academy, September 20th, 1890.\n\nFootnote 23:\n\n Le Morte Darthur, edited by H. Oskar Sommer, Ph.D. Vol. III, p. 335.\n\nFootnote 24:\n\n \u2018The Biography and Typography of William Caxton, England\u2019s First\n Printer,\u2019 by William Blades, 8vo, 1877, p. 22. In this, and in his\n larger work, \u2018Life and Typography of William Caxton, England\u2019s First\n Printer,\u2019 2 vols. 4to, 1861-1863, Mr. Blades has given a very learned\n and complete history of Caxton and his times so far as they relate to\n him.\n\nFootnote 25:\n\n \u2018like a circle in the water,\n Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself\n Till by broad spreading it do reach the bank.\u2019\n\n See First part of King Henry VI, i. 2, and the Variorum notes thereon.\n\nFootnote 26:\n\n Englishmen, who feel shame and sorrow for the loss of the only\n perfect first copy of our National Epic, may yet be glad to know it\n has an honoured place with our worthier kinsfolk across the Atlantic,\n in the rich library and museum of Mr. and Mrs. Abby Pope:\n\n \u2018And, so sepulchred, in such pomp doth lie,\n That kings, for such a tomb, would wish to die.\u2019\n\nFootnote 27:\n\n Dibdin\u2019s Typographical Antiquities, 1810, vol. i, pp. 242, 254.\n\nFootnote 28:\n\n Dibdin\u2019s Supplement to the Bibliotheca Spenceriana, vol. ii. p. 213;\n or \u00c6des Althorpian\u00e6, vol. vi. p. 213. I would here express my thanks\n to Earl Spencer for sending to the British Museum for my use his\n Caxton, and his unique copy of Wynkyn de Worde\u2019s first edition of\n Morte Darthur, as also for favouring me with details of information\n respecting the former; and to the Earl of Jersey for permitting me to\n examine his Caxton at Osterley.\n\nFootnote 29:\n\n \u2018Caxton followed the usage of the scribes in this particular; for,\n with one exception only, and at the very end of his career, where the\n title of the book is printed alone in the centre of the first page,\n his books appear without any title page whatever. Wynkyn de Worde\n adopted the use of title-pages immediately after the death of his\n master.\u2019 Biography and Typography of William Caxton, England\u2019s first\n printer, p. 45. By William Blades, 1877.\n\nFootnote 30:\n\n As the passage is worth preserving I have given it at the end of the\n volume, Note A, p. 488.\n\nFootnote 31:\n\n Vol. i, p. xxviii.\n\nFootnote 32:\n\n Ibid. p. lviii.\n\nFootnote 33:\n\n The pages are vol. i, p. 167, line 18, to p. 169, line 17; p. 275,\n third line from bottom, to p. 279, line 5 from bottom; vol. ii, p.\n 202, line 13, to p. 204, line 14; p. 446, line 5, to end of 455.\n\nFootnote 34:\n\n An account of these interpolations was given by me in the Athen\u00e6um of\n Sept. 7 and Dec. 10, 1867, and Feb. 10, 1868.\n\nFootnote 35:\n\n Typographical Antiquities, by Ames and Herbert, 1785, vol. i, p. 61;\n Ibid. enlarged by Dibdin, 1810, vol. i, p. 253. The \u2018Additions\u2019 are\n at the end of vol. iii. of Herbert\u2019s edition.\n\nFootnote 36:\n\n Catalogus Bibl. Harleian\u00e6, 1744, vol. iii, no. 372.\n\nFootnote 37:\n\n See note B at the end of the volume, p. 488.\n\nFootnote 38:\n\n Even the learned M.M. Gaston Paris and Ulrich, say, in reference to\n editions of Le Morte Darthur, \u2018La plus commode \u00e0 lire, parce que le\n langage y est discr\u00e8tement rajeuni, est l\u2019\u00e9dition donn\u00e9e chez\n Macmillan en 1868 par Sir Edw. Strachey.\u2019\n\nFootnote 39:\n\n Sybel\u2019s History of the Crusades, English Translation, p. 11.\n\nFootnote 40:\n\n For this distinction I am indebted to my friend the late Rev. F. D.\n Maurice, whose genius lights up every subject it approaches.\n\nFootnote 41:\n\n Valiant.\n\nFootnote 42:\n\n Having gone to find adventures in Prussia with the Teutonic knights\n who carried on war with the still Pagan Lithuania, he had been often\n placed at the head of the table above the like adventurers from other\n nations, in compliment to his especial merit.\n\nFootnote 43:\n\n Ridden in arms.\n\nFootnote 44:\n\n Praise.\n\nFootnote 45:\n\n It appears from Morte Arthur, p. 474, that London was the proper\n place to go to, \u2018to buy all manner of things that longed unto a\n wedding.\u2019\n\nFootnote 46:\n\n For facts my principal authorities\u2014whose words I have frequently\n availed myself of\u2014are Mills\u2019s History of Chivalry, which alone\n almost exhausts the subject; Gibbon\u2019s Decline and Fall of the Roman\n Empire; Godwin\u2019s Life of Chaucer; Scott\u2019s Essay on Chivalry; Lord\n Berner\u2019s Froissart; and Southey\u2019s Introduction to Amadis of Gaul.\n\nFootnote 47:\n\n The division of the word indicates that the writer adopts the\n plausible notion that Sangreal means Real (or Royal) Blood; and no\n doubt in ancient as well as modern times the spelling and sound would\n suggest this meaning: but Roquefort shows clearly that the other is\n the proper explanation, both in etymology and (so to speak)\n historically. And Helinand, a monk of Fromont (A.D. 717), gives the\n Latin _Gradale_, which supplies the link between _Graal_ and _Crater_\n from which Roquefort derives the former. Helinand\u2019s words are,\u2014\u2018Hoc\n tempore, in Britannia, cuidam eremitae monstrata est mirabilis\n quaedam visio per angelum de sancto Josepho decurione nobili qui\n corpus Domini deposuit de cruce, et de catino illo vel paropside in\n quo Dominus coenavit cum discipulis suis; de qua ab eodem eremita\n descripta est historia quae dicitur _de Gradal_. _Gradalis_ autem vel\n _Gradale_ dicitur Gallic\u00e8 scutella lata et aliquantulum profunda in\n qua pretiosae dapes, cum suo jure, divitibus solent apponi, et\n dicitur nomine _Graal_.... Hanc historiam latine scriptam invenire\n non potui, sed tantum Gallic\u00e8 scripta habetur a quibusdam proceribus,\n nec facile ut aiunt tota inveniri potest.\u2019 Helinandi Historia, quoted\n in L\u2019Essai Historique et Literaire sur l\u2019Abbaye de F\u00e9camp par Leroux\n de Lincy, Rouen, 1840.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n GLOSSARY AND INDEX.\n\n\n\n\nThe following Index includes a Glossary of words now obsolete, or used\nwith new meanings. Those proper names which in the text are spelt in\nmore than one way, or have different epithets, are repeated in each of\nsuch forms, but without cross references. These have not been thought\nnecessary, as their absence can hardly lead to mistake as to the\nidentity of the names.\n\n\n Abbey of La Beale Adventure, 77.\n\n Abblasoure, place of, 359.\n\n Abel, 395, 396.\n\n Abelleus, 71.\n\n Ablamor of the Marsh, 68.\n\n Accolon of Gaul, Sir, 57;\n hunts with Arthur, 79;\n finds himself by a deep well, 80;\n gets Excalibur and nearly kills Arthur, 82;\n dies, 84;\n 86.\n\n Adam, 395.\n\n Adder stings and produces a war, 478.\n\n Adtherp, Sir, 186, 187.\n\n Affrike, 100.\n\n Africa, 108.\n\n Agente, earldom of, 469.\n\n Aglavale, Sir, 259.\n\n Aglovale, Sir, 152, 281, 333, 362, 448;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Agravaine, Sir, 42, 56, 139, 150, 152;\n marries, 160;\n 169, 248, 250, 261, 279, 290;\n is open mouthed, 412;\n 421, 431, 434, 438, 448, 450;\n accuses Sir Launcelot and Guenever, 451;\n tries to capture Sir Launcelot and is slain, 454.\n\n Aguarus, 373.\n\n Agwisance of Ireland, king, 35, 36, 152, 154.\n\n Alakuke, lord, 104.\n\n Albans, St., 28.\n\n Alexander, 108.\n\n Alexandria, 108.\n\n Alice La Beale Pilgrim, 273.\n\n Aliduke, Sir, 118, 413, 421.\n\n Aligement, alleviation, 390.\n\n Alis le Beale Pilgrim, dame, 455.\n\n Alisander le Orphelin, 268, 270, 273, 422, 448.\n\n Alisander the mighty conqueror, 467.\n\n Alisandrie, country of, 100.\n\n Allardin of the Isles, 67.\n\n Allegiance, alleviation, 43.\n\n Allein, 246.\n\n Allhallowmas, 29, 33.\n\n Almain, 100, 106, 107.\n\n Almerie, cupboard, 411.\n\n Almesbury, 481, 484. See Introduction, p. xviii.\n\n Alphegus, Sir, 446.\n\n Alther, of us all, 84.\n\n Amant, 245, 251.\n\n Ambage, country of, 100.\n\n Ambler, 263.\n\n And, if, 142.\n\n Andred, Sir, 188, 190, 213, 264, 449.\n\n Andret, Sir, 174.\n\n Andrew, Sir, 232.\n\n Anglides (prince Boudwin\u2019s wife), 267.\n\n Anguish of Ireland, king, 164, 168, 171, 177, 179, 181, 184, 419, 434.\n\n Anguish of Scotland, king, 99.\n\n Anguissance of Ireland, king, 448.\n\n Aniause, king, 382, 383, 387.\n\n Anjou, duke of, 469.\n\n Annecians, 40.\n\n Annowre (a sorceress), 209.\n\n Ansirus, duke (the pilgrim), 273.\n\n Antemes, 41.\n\n Anwick, 486.\n\n Arabe, mount of, 103.\n\n Arabie, 100.\n\n Arbray, castle of, 283.\n\n Archade, 277.\n\n Archbishop of Canterbury, 28, 30.\n\n Aretted, reckoned, 1.\n\n Arguis, Sir, 264.\n\n Argustus, 377.\n\n Aries (the cowherd), 65.\n\n Aries le Vaysher, 248.\n\n Aristance, Sir, 282.\n\n Aristause, earl, 448.\n\n Arminak, earl of, 469.\n\n Arnold de Breusse, 139, 149.\n\n Arnold, Sir, 152.\n\n Arrage, country of, 100.\n\n Arrok de Grevant, Sir, 449.\n\n Arrouse, earl, 277.\n\n Arroy, country and forest of, 89.\n\n Arthur is born, 27;\n pulls the sword out of the stone, 29;\n made king, 30;\n fights, 32;\n 35, 36, 39;\n falls in love, 41;\n first sees Guenever, 41;\n dreams a dream, 42;\n wants the quest, 43;\n is made known to Igraine, 44;\n fights, 46;\n gets a sword, 47;\n 53;\n fights Nero, 56;\n is sick, 57;\n loves Guenever, 64;\n marries, 66;\n 74;\n is warned by Merlin to keep his sword and scabbard, 75;\n fights with five kings, 77;\n rides his horse to death, 79;\n finds himself in prison, 79;\n fights Sir Accolon, and is nearly killed, 81;\n goes to an abbey and recovers, 84;\n follows his sister for the scabbard, 86;\n 95;\n Roman Emperor sends to him for tribute, 98;\n his splendour, 100;\n ordains two governors to act while he goes to war with the Emperor\n of Rome, 101;\n dreams of an encounter between a boar and a dragon, _ib._;\n giant crushes his ribs, 103;\n embraces his knights after battle, 105;\n crowned at Rome by the Pope, 110;\n 116, 120, 127, 133, 135, 137, 139, 145, 148;\n holds a tournament at Avilion, 152;\n 156, 161, 167, 177, 187, 196;\n justs with Sir Lamorak, 208;\n cuts off the head of the Lady, 210;\n 223;\n fights, 226;\n 228, 236;\n fights Sir Tristram, 238;\n 243, 251, 256, 262, 274, 279;\n cries a just, 286;\n is at Lonazep, 303;\n justs with Sir Dinadan, 305;\n visits Sir Tristram, 315;\n 330;\n Sir Launcelot returns to him, 344;\n sees marvels, 350;\n glad to see the remnant of his knights, 411;\n 415;\n holds a tourney at Winchester, 420;\n 425;\n justs, 434;\n 449;\n hears the charge against Guenever, 452;\n faints, 459;\n lays siege to Joyous Gard, 461;\n goes to war with Sir Launcelot, 470;\n his life is war and strife, 475;\n returns to Dover and fights, 476;\n has a dream, 477;\n kills Sir Mordred, 479;\n received by three queens in a barge, 480.\n\n Arundel, castle of, 268.\n\n Asia, 100.\n\n Assoil, absolve, 365.\n\n Assotted, besotted, doting, 75, 274.\n\n Astamore, Sir, 448, 452.\n\n Astlabor, king, 318, 320.\n\n Astolat (town of Gilford), 419.\n\n Astomore, Sir, 413.\n\n Astonied, stunned, 117, 123.\n\n Attaint, fatigued, exhausted, 384.\n\n Avail, lower, 110.\n\n Avaunt, boast, 447.\n\n Avelion, Avelon, the Isle of Apples, on which Glastonbury stood, 49.\n\n Aventer, couch spear, 62.\n\n Avilion, Isle of, 151, 152;\n vale of, 480.\n\n Avoid quit leave, 103.\n\n Awk, backward, 182.\n\n\n Babylon, 410.\n\n Bachelors, knights, 37.\n\n Bagdemagus, king, 78, 114, 116, 128, 152, 169, 275;\n nearly killed, 355;\n 405, 470.\n\n Balan, 42, 53, 57;\n is slain, 62.\n\n Balin le Savage, 42, 49, 52, 57;\n slays Garlon, 59;\n is slain, 62;\n 351.\n\n Bamborow, 486.\n\n Ban of Benwick, king, 32, 38, 41, 75, 224.\n\n Bandes, king, 279.\n\n Baptism, 280.\n\n Barant le Apres, Sir, called king with the hundred knights, 448.\n\n Barbers, 107.\n\n Barbican, 103;\n an outwork to defend the gate of a castle, 156.\n\n Barflete (in Flanders), 101.\n\n Barget, a little barge, 431.\n\n Barham Down, near Canterbury, 477.\n Mr. Wright says it is the site of an Anglo-Saxon cemetery, which,\n no doubt, suggested that a battle had been fought there.\n\n Baronage, 265.\n\n Barony, 96, 450.\n\n Basdemegus, 57.\n\n Battle, 264.\n\n Battles, armies, battalions, 105, 265.\n\n Baudwin of Britain, Sir, 30, 31, 101;\n is a surgeon, 423;\n 428.\n\n Bayonne, 469.\n\n Beale Isould, 101.\n\n Beale-Valet, castle of, 262.\n\n Beame, trumpet, 478.\n\n Bearn, earl of, 469.\n\n Beaumains (Fair-hands), 129;\n is called a kitchen-boy, 135;\n 140;\n beats the red knight of the red lawns, 143;\n 148.\n\n Beaume (Bayonne), 469.\n\n Bedegraine, forest of, 34;\n castle of, 35;\n 41;\n battle of, 42.\n\n Bedivere, Sir, 102, 103, 152, 421, 434, 448, 478;\n throws Excalibur into the water, 480;\n finds where Arthur is buried, 481;\n meets with Sir Launcelot, 484;\n is an hermit, 487.\n\n Bee, ring, bracelet, or other ornament, 159.\n\n Behest, promise, 209.\n\n Behight, promise, 411.\n\n Behote, promise, 168.\n\n Belias le Orgulous, Sir, is slain, 459.\n\n Belinus, king of Britain, 99.\n\n Bellangere (a constable), 268.\n\n Bellangere le Orgulous, Sir, 449.\n\n Bellaus, 40.\n\n Bellengerus le Beuse, 274, 421, 448, 455, 468.\n\n Belleus, Sir, 115;\n wounded by Launcelot, 115;\n 128.\n\n Belliance le Orgulous, Sir, 198.\n\n Bellias of Flanders, 37.\n\n Bendelaine, Sir, 157.\n\n Benoye, country of, 274, 343.\n\n Benwick,\n city of, 33;\n 34, 41;\n land of, 75;\n some call it Bayonne, 469;\n 471.\n\n Berel, Sir, 104.\n\n Berluse, Sir, 247.\n\n Bernard of Astolat, Sir, 419, 420, 429.\n\n Berrant le Apres, king, 295.\n\n Bersules, Sir, 245, 251.\n\n Bertelot, Sir, 338.\n\n Bery, apparently meant for Bere, bier, or bear, 385.\n\n Besaunt, a gold coin first coined at Byzantium, 95, 481.\n\n Beseen, adorned, clothed, 51.\n\n Bestad, Bested, beset, 476.\n\n Betaught, recommended, 359.\n\n Betid, happened, was; or, beat, 141, 332.\n\n Bishop, the first, 407.\n\n Black, all, 133.\n\n Blamore de Ganis, Sir, 139, 173, 176, 179, 224, 230, 277, 413, 421,\n 448;\n made a duke, 469;\n 484.\n\n Bleise, 41.\n\n Bleoberis de Ganis, Sir, 38, 139, 154, 173, 175, 177, 179, 199, 208,\n 223, 231, 275, 278, 287, 317, 413, 421, 435, 448;\n made a duke, 469;\n 484.\n\n Bliant, Sir, 338;\n castle of, 341.\n\n Bloias de la Flandres, 37.\n\n Blois de la Case, 40.\n\n Board, deck, 370.\n\n Bobart le Cure Hardy, Sir, Arthur\u2019s son, 449.\n\n Bole, trunk of a tree, 126.\n\n Book, swear upon a, 230, 259.\n\n Boot, help, 162.\n\n Borre, 41.\n\n Bors de Ganis, Sir, 89, 103, 105, 139, 152, 154, 218, 230, 328;\n sees a dragon, 330;\n 333, 343, 381;\n joins in the quest, 383;\n 387, 390, 392, 397, 401, 407;\n has his adventures chronicled, 411;\n 413, 421;\n finds Sir Launcelot ill, 427;\n 435, 448;\n is crowned, 469;\n 482.\n\n Bors of Gaul, king, 32, 38, 41.\n\n Boudwin, Sir, 267.\n\n Brabant, 107.\n\n Brachet, a small scenting dog, 66, 70, 79, 123, 165, 215.\n\n Bragwaine, dame, 181, 185, 191, 205, 215, 220, 225, 230.\n\n Braid, hastiness, 472.\n\n Brain-pan, 167, 184.\n\n Brandegore, king, 343.\n\n Brandegoris of Stranggore, king, 35, 56.\n\n Brandel, Sir, 118.\n\n Brandiles, Sir, 152, 205, 209, 248, 250, 256, 413, 421, 431, 438, 448;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Brasias, Sir, 413;\n a hermit, 415.\n\n Brast, brake, 117.\n\n Brastias, Sir, 26, 27, 28, 30, 33, 36, 433.\n\n Brawn, muscular part of the hand, palm, 443.\n\n Brenius, king of Britain, 99.\n\n Breunor, Sir, 181.\n\n Breuse Saunce Pit\u00e9, Sir, 178, 201, 220, 230, 235, 239, 261, 270, 277,\n 287, 301, 339.\n\n Brewnor le Noire, Sir, 129, 197;\n is La Cote Male Taile, 205.\n\n Brian de Listinoise, Sir, 118, 448.\n\n Brian of the Forest, 67.\n\n Brian of the Isles, 73, 152, 202, 205.\n\n Briant, 37.\n\n Briant de la Forest Savage, 40.\n\n Briant of North Wales, Sir, 222.\n\n Bridge, of iron and steel, 63.\n\n Brim, furious, 464.\n\n Brisen, dame, 327, 328, 331, 340.\n\n Britain, 106;\n Petit, 237;\n Great, 356;\n people Christianized, _ib._\n\n Britany, country of, 102;\n duchess of, _ib._, 151;\n 161, 168, 191, 205.\n\n Britons, 38;\n full of pride and boast, 103;\n 105.\n\n Broche, split, pierce, 39.\n\n Bromel la Pleche, Sir, 328.\n\n Browis, broth, pottage, 129.\n\n Bruin, le Noire, Sir, 448.\n\n Buffet, blow, 72, 73, 82.\n\n Bulls from the Pope, 464.\n\n Bur, an iron ring on the spear, to prevent the hand slipping, 479.\n\n Burbling, bubbling, 240.\n\n Burgen, bud, blossom, 451.\n\n Burgoyne, 100, 103.\n\n Bushment, surprise party (embushment, 34), 103, 110.\n\n\n Cador of Cornwall, Sir, 99, 104.\n\n Cain, 395.\n\n Calabre, country of, 100.\n\n Caliburn (one of the strongest of Pavie), 104.\n\n Calidone, 393.\n\n Cambenet, duke of, 35, 38.\n\n Cambines, duke, 282.\n\n Cameliard, country of, 41, 64, 270.\n\n Camelot, see Introduction, p. xvi., 49, 53, 56, 63, 66, 68, 70, 73,\n 75, 77, 79, 84, 98, 177, 203;\n river of, 239;\n 242, 246, 251, 253, 257, 261, 317, 330, 344, 348, 352, 381, 405, 411,\n 418.\n\n Candlemas, 30.\n\n Canterbury, bishop of, 65;\n Mordred crowned here, 474;\n bishop of, defies Mordred, 475;\n 477;\n buries Arthur, 481;\n bishop of, 484;\n 485, 487.\n\n Capadoce, country of, 100.\n\n Carados, king of, 31, 35, 37, 38.\n\n Carados, Sir, 92, 118, 152, 177, 179, 184, 204, 219, 224, 226, 270,\n 448.\n\n Carados of Scotland, king, 448.\n\n Carbonek, castle of, 366, 392, 404, 407.\n\n Car de Gomeret, 270.\n\n Cardican, castle of, 335.\n\n Cardiff, captain of, 107;\n place, 209;\n take ship at, 469;\n 470.\n\n Cardoile, 76.\n\n Cardoile, the Anglo-Norman form of Carlisle, 76.\n See Introduction, p. xv.\n\n Cardok, Sir, 448.\n\n Cardol, 33.\n\n Carlion, see Introduction, p. xv., 30, 35, 42, 43, 48, 130, 148, 262.\n\n Carlisle, 347, 447, 450, 458, 464, 467.\n\n Carrack, ship, 476.\n\n Carteloise, castle of, 397.\n\n Case, castle of, 327.\n\n Cast, a portion or set of loaves baked together, 140.\n\n Castle Blank, 338.\n\n Castor, Sir, 340.\n\n Cateland, country of, 100.\n\n Caulas, 40.\n\n Caxton\u2019s preface, 1.\n\n Cayer, 100.\n\n Cered, waxed, 485.\n\n Chafe, heat, 106.\n\n Chaflet, platform, 477.\n\n Chaleins of Clarance, duke, 277, 281, 434, 448.\n\n Champayne, 103.\n\n Chariot, castle, 113.\n\n Chestelaine, Sir, 109.\n\n Child, squire, or young knight, 109, 392.\n\n Chivalry, flower of, 76.\n\n Christ, Lord Jesus, 60, 352, 394.\n\n Christendom, 75, 83, 87, 99, 299, 395, 464.\n\n Christmas, 28.\n\n Church, 28, 395.\n\n Churl, peasant, boor, 120.\n\n Clariance de la Forest Savage, 36.\n\n Clariance of Northumberland, king, 35, 36, 448.\n\n Clarisin, the countess, 110.\n\n Clarrus of Cleremont, Sir, 448, 455, 469, 484, 487.\n\n Claudas, king, 32, 34, 41, 75, 100, 330, 470.\n\n Claudine, 409.\n\n Clegis, Sir, 107, 448.\n\n Clegis of Sadok, Sir, 455, 469.\n\n Cleped, called, 409.\n\n Cleremond, Sir, 107.\n\n Cloddrus, Sir, 448.\n\n Cloth of gold, 33.\n\n Coasted, kept at the side, in a parallel course, 433.\n\n Cogge, cock, i.e. cock-boat, 101.\n\n Cognisance, badge, mark of distinction, 241, 302.\n\n Colgrevance, Sir, 218, 389, 449, 452.\n\n Colgrevaunce de Gorre, Sir, 40.\n\n Collibe, sea of, 392.\n\n Cologne, 100.\n\n Colombe, 54, 243.\n\n Comange, earl of, 469.\n\n Commonalty, 228.\n\n Commons, 30, 81;\n children of, 102.\n\n Constantine, son of queen Heleine, 99;\n country of, 102.\n\n Constantine, Sir (Sir Cador\u2019s son).\n Arthur wishes him to be his heir, 101, 448;\n was chosen king after Arthur, 487.\n\n Corbin,\n bridge of, 326;\n 330;\n city of, 340.\n\n Corneus, duke, 33.\n\n Cornwall, 25, 49, 75, 96, 151, 161, 163, 165, 174, 177, 181, 193,\n 205, 232, 249, 259, 262, 266, 268, 286, 478.\n\n Coronation, 30.\n\n Corsabrin, Sir, 279.\n\n Courtelage, court-yard, or garden, 94, 121, 379.\n\n Covin, deceit, plot, 360.\n\n Cradelmas, king, 35, 37.\n\n Cradelment of North Wales, king, 37.\n\n Croft, vault, 406.\n\n Crosselme, Sir, 448.\n\n Curselaine, Sir, 452.\n\n Cyprus, 100.\n\n\n Daffish, foolish, 236.\n\n Dagonet, Sir (Arthur\u2019s fool), 199, 212, 249, 256.\n\n Dalan, 261.\n\n Damas, Sir, 79, 81, 459.\n\n Damaske, country of, 100.\n\n Damiete, 100.\n\n Daname, Sir, 230.\n\n Darras, Sir, 229, 230, 449.\n\n David, 395.\n\n Debate, strife, 459.\n\n Debonair, courteous, 394.\n\n Defoil, trample under foot, overcome, 200.\n\n Degrane, Sance Vilany, Sir, 449.\n\n Delectable Isle, 297.\n\n Deliverly, actively, 473.\n\n Denmark, king of, 76, 357.\n\n Depart, part, 483.\n\n De Vance, lady, 55.\n\n Devise, look carefully at, 402.\n\n Devoir, knightly duty, 149, 469.\n\n Diamond, justed for daily, 432.\n\n Dight, dressed, 79.\n\n Dinadan, Sir, 129, 152, 216, 227, 246, 253, 257, 261, 276, 280;\n forced into woman\u2019s garment, 282;\n best jester, 290;\n 317, 448.\n\n Dinant, Sir, 214.\n\n Dinas, Sir, 153, 167, 188, 215, 232, 263, 268;\n rises against king Mark, 284;\n 448, 455, 469.\n\n Disworship, disgrace, 67.\n\n Dodinas le Savage, Sir, 96, 154, 169, 175, 228, 241, 302, 421, 438,\n 448.\n\n Dole, grief, 45.\n\n Dolphine, 108.\n\n Dornar, Sir, 259.\n\n Dornard, Sir, 281.\n\n Dover, 34, 110, 475;\n castle, 477, 482, 484.\n\n Dragon (description of), 101;\n spitting fire, 326.\n\n Draughts, apparently recesses parted off from the main room, 442.\n\n Dress, turn towards, address, 402.\n\n Driant, Sir, 188, 218, 448;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Dromon, a vessel of war, 101.\n\n Duresse, bondage, 357.\n\n Durnore, Sir, 448.\n\n Dutchmen, duke of, 109.\n\n Dwarf, attendant, 53, 69, 80, 90.\n\n Dwine, dwindle, 485.\n\n\n Easter, 30.\n\n Eastland, queen of, 113.\n\n Ebel, Sir, 296, 300.\n\n Ector, Sir,\n takes charge of the infant Arthur, 27;\n 44.\n\n Ector de Maris, Sir, 112, 118, 123, 127, 139, 152, 177, 210, 224, 230,\n 237, 258, 275, 278, 287, 316, 333;\n is healed by the Sancgreal, 337;\n 342, 377, 405, 412, 421, 435, 448;\n is crowned, 469;\n 484;\n finds Sir Launcelot dead, 486.\n\n Edward of Carnarvan, Sir, 448.\n\n Edward of Orkney, Sir, 304, 449.\n\n Edward of the Red Castle, Sir, 96.\n\n Edward the Fourth, 487.\n\n Eft, again, 480.\n\n Eftures, passages, 444.\n\n Egglame, 47.\n\n Egypt, 100;\n king of, 106.\n\n Elaine (king Ban\u2019s wife), 75.\n\n Elaine (king Nentres\u2019 wife), 27.\n\n Elaine (king Pelles\u2019 daughter), 327;\n sees Sir Launcelot mad, 340;\n 344, 375;\n is dead, 405.\n\n Elaine le Blank, 420;\n seeks Sir Launcelot, 425;\n dies for Sir Launcelot and is put in a barget, 431;\n the letter is taken from her dead hand, 432.\n\n Elamie, country of, 100.\n\n Eleine, slew herself, 74.\n\n Elian le Blank, 382.\n\n Elias, Sir (a captain), 263, 264;\n fights Sir Tristram, 266.\n\n Elias de Gomeret, 270.\n\n Eliazar, 377, 407.\n\n Eliot (an harper), 263, 267.\n\n Elis la Noire, 277.\n\n Elise, Sir, 279.\n\n Elizabeth, queen, 161, 165.\n\n Emerause, 40.\n\n Enchafe, heat, 372.\n\n Enchantress, 327.\n\n Eneled, anointed (with extreme unction), 486.\n\n England, 27, 31, 49, 97, 111, 151, 168, 177, 191, 283, 330, 333, 341,\n 447;\n writs sent, 461;\n 464.\n\n Englishmen, 475.\n\n Epinegris, 289.\n\n Epinogrus, Sir, 152, 301, 318, 421, 449.\n\n Erminide, Sir, 449.\n\n Erst, before, 254.\n\n Ertaine, country of, 100.\n\n Ertanax (a fish), 393.\n\n Estates, 87, 228, 281.\n\n Estorause, king, 409.\n\n Estrake, earl of, 469.\n\n Estsex, Essex, 477.\n\n Ethelwold, Sir, 109.\n\n Ethiope, king of, 106.\n\n Ettard, 91, 94.\n\n Eufrates, flood of, 393.\n\n Euphrates, river of, 100.\n\n Europe, 100.\n\n Eustace of Cambenet, duke, 36.\n\n Evangelists, 26, 74, 399.\n\n Eve, 395.\n\n Evelake, king, 356, 357, 367, 375.\n\n Ewaine le Blanchemains, Sir, 27, 57.\n\n Excalibur (Cut-steel), 32, 51, 57;\n sent to Sir Accolon, 80;\n 81, 105;\n is thrown into the water, 479.\n\n\n Faramon of France, king, 165.\n\n Feldenak, Sir, 104.\n\n Felelolie, dame, 447, 450.\n\n Fellowship, 177, 178, 191, 258, 459.\n\n Felot of Langduk, Sir, 70.\n\n Felot of Listinoise, Sir, 96.\n\n Ferant of Spain, Sir, 109.\n\n Fergus, earl, 95, 212.\n\n Fergus, Sir, 262, 268, 448.\n\n Fewter, put spear in the rest, 107.\n\n Fiend, comes out of a tomb, 357, 369;\n chief one, 372.\n\n Fig tree cursed by our Lord, 365.\n\n Flacket, flask, 181.\n\n Flanders, 100, 107.\n\n Flannedrius, 40.\n\n Florence, Sir, 107, 109, 448, 452.\n\n Floridas, Sir, 109, 110.\n\n Floris, Sir, 110.\n\n Foining, push in fencing, 131, 136, 142.\n\n Foise, earl of, 469.\n\n Footmen, 34, 39.\n\n Fordo, undo, 74.\n\n Forthdays, late in the day, 455.\n\n Forthink, grieve, 379;\n repent, 74.\n\n Foster, forester, 381.\n\n Four Stones, castle of, 53.\n\n France, 32, 100, 102;\n marshal of, 103;\n 161, 163, 168, 330;\n lords of, 469.\n\n Frol of the Out Isles, Sir, 195.\n\n\n Gad, spike or knob of iron or steel, 373.\n\n Gahalantine, Sir, 448;\n made a duke, 469;\n 484.\n\n Gahalatine, Sir, 115, 116, 128.\n\n Gaheris, Sir, 42, 56, 66, 87, 117, 127, 139, 150, 152, 160, 169, 197,\n 213, 223, 227, 231, 260, 277, 279, 281, 290, 334, 413, 421, 434,\n 448;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Gainest, readiest, 145.\n\n Gainus, Sir, 103.\n\n Galacie, country of, 100.\n\n Galagars, Sir, chosen a knight of the Table Round, 78.\n\n Galahad, Sir, 60, 63, 75, 183, 325;\n is born, 328;\n is made a knight, 349;\n sits in the siege perilous, 350;\n his lineage, 352;\n takes the white shield, 355;\n attacks the Castle of Maidens, 360;\n strikes down his father, 362;\n 375, 381, 397;\n meets Sir Launcelot on board ship, 402;\n goes in quest of the Sancgreal, 402;\n dies, 410.\n\n Galahalt, Sir, 257, 274;\n hates fish, 281;\n of the Long Isles, 293;\n 419, 424, 434, 448.\n\n Galahault, Sir, 152.\n\n Galapas (a giant), 105.\n\n Galardoun, 241.\n\n Galatine (Sir Gawaine\u2019s good sword), 104, 107.\n\n Galihodin, Sir, 152, 154, 282, 301, 413, 421, 435, 448;\n is made a duke, 469;\n 484.\n\n Galihud, Sir, 152, 154, 230, 413, 421, 435;\n made an earl, 469;\n 484.\n\n Galind, Sir, 118.\n\n Galiodin, 230.\n\n Galleron of Galway, Sir, 246, 421, 448.\n\n Ganis, abbey and castle of, 231.\n\n Garaunt, 270.\n\n Gareth of Orkney, Sir (Beaumains), 42;\n 56, 131, 145, 150, 152, 158, 292, 296, 303, 317, 361, 413;\n smites down thirty knights, 435;\n 448;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Garlon, 58.\n\n Garlot, land of, 27.\n\n Garnish of the Mount, 60.\n\n Gaul, 34, 375.\n\n Gaunter, Sir, 122, 152.\n\n Gautere, Sir, 448;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Gawaine, Sir, 27, 35.\n\n Gawaine, Sir, (Arthur\u2019s nephew), 42, 56, 58, 63;\n Arthur promises to make him a knight, 65;\n follows the hart, 67;\n kills a lady, 69;\n 75, 77;\n chosen a knight of the Table Round, 78;\n fights Sir Marhaus, 88;\n 91, 95, 96;\n smites off Sir Gainus\u2019 head, 103;\n 107;\n fights with Sir Priamus, 108;\n 116, 123, 125, 128, 139, 145, 149, 152, 154, 158, 169, 184, 196, 219,\n 229;\n is beaten by Sir Lamorak, 258;\n 261, 279, 288, 302, 326, 333;\n tries to pull the sword out, 350;\n takes up the quest of the holy Graile, 353;\n 361, 377, 405, 413, 434, 448;\n asks Arthur not to be hasty in burning Guenever, 457;\n loses his brothers, 460;\n will not forgive Sir Launcelot, 467;\n fights, 473;\n writes to Sir Launcelot, and dies, 476.\n\n Gawdelin, Sir, 334.\n\n Genoese warriors, 100.\n\n Gerfalcon, the finest kind of hawk, 96.\n\n Gerin, Sir, 280.\n\n Gerine le Grose, 272.\n\n Germany, 106.\n\n Gest, deed, story, 123.\n\n Gherard, Sir, 109.\n\n Gherard de Breusse, 139, 149.\n\n Ghost, Holy, 352, 364, 381, 395.\n\n Giant of St. Michael\u2019s Mount; sits at supper gnawing a man\u2019s limbs,\n twelve children are being broached on spits, 102;\n is killed by Arthur, 103.\n\n Gilbert, Sir, 124, 125.\n\n Gilford, 419.\n\n Gillemere, Sir, 448;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Gilmere, Sir, 122.\n\n Gingalin, Sir, 211, 448, 452.\n\n Gisarm, two-edged battle-axe, 96.\n\n Glaive, a long blade at the end of a lance, a sword, 70.\n\n Glasting, 287. See Questing.\n\n Glastonbury, 475, 481, 484. See Introduction, p. xviii.\n\n Glatisant (the questing beast), 207, 250, 256, 286, 299;\n is followed by Sir Palamides, 348.\n\n Gobbets, lumps, 148.\n\n God, 326.\n\n Godard, garrison of, 108.\n\n Godelake, Sir, 152.\n\n Goneries, Sir, 275.\n\n Goodewin, Sir, 334.\n\n Goothe, castle of, 366.\n\n Gore, land of, 27, 35, 86, 113, 152, 285, 406.\n\n Gouvernail (Sir Tristram\u2019s tutor), 163, 166, 174, 178, 187, 190, 205,\n 220, 241.\n\n Graale, holy, 327;\n its entrance into the hall, 352;\n 401.\n See Sangreal.\n\n Gracian, 34.\n\n Graciens le Castlein, 40.\n\n Gramercy (written Grant mercy, 418);\n great thanks, 71.\n\n Grastian, 34.\n\n Gratian, 41.\n\n Gree, degree, prize, 220.\n\n Greece, Hart of, a fat deer, 323.\n\n Greece, 100.\n\n Griflet, Sir, 33, 36.\n\n Griflet, le Fise de Dieu, Sir, 40, 45, 76;\n is chosen a knight of the Table Round, 78;\n 169, 249, 303, 362, 421, 435, 448;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Gringamore, Sir, 144, 147, 151.\n\n Grip, earl, 191.\n\n Gromere, Sir, 448.\n\n Gromore Somir Joure, Sir, 452.\n\n Grummore Grummursum, Sir, 152.\n\n Guenever, 41, 64;\n is married, 66;\n 74;\n goes with Arthur to battle, 76;\n 85;\n left in care of two governors by Arthur, 101;\n 102;\n meets Arthur at Sandwich, 111;\n 113, 119, 121, 122, 125, 127, 153, 187, 192, 197, 207, 225, 236, 253,\n 262, 274, 278;\n falls with laughter, 282;\n 285, 318, 327, 330;\n is angry with Sir Launcelot, 332;\n spends \u00a320,000 to find Sir Launcelot, 344;\n sorrows over the separation of the Round Table Knights, 353;\n complains to Sir Launcelot, 412;\n is suspected of poisoning, 413;\n the trial, 416;\n is angry, 426;\n was a true lover, 437;\n goes a-Maying, 437;\n is captured, 438;\n rescued by Sir Launcelot, 441;\n sees Sir Launcelot at night, 443;\n wants her accuser killed, 446;\n is watched, 450;\n led out for judgment, 458;\n rescued by Sir Launcelot, 459;\n is given back to Arthur, 468;\n Sir Mordred tries to wed her, 474;\n makes herself a nun, 481;\n is found by Sir Launcelot in a nunnery, 483;\n dies and is buried, 485.\n\n Guerdonless, without reward, 323.\n\n Guiart le Petite, Sir, 448.\n\n Guienne, king of, 469.\n\n Gumret le Petit, 169.\n\n Guy, Sir, 270.\n\n Guynas de Bloy, 40.\n\n Gwenbaus, 34.\n\n Gwimiart de Bloi, 36.\n\n Gwinas, Sir, 37.\n\n\n Haberjon, see Hauberk. When the \u2018chausses\u2019 or mail leggings were\n united with the Hauberk the whole was called an Haberjon, 385.\n\n Hackneys, 34, 178, 229.\n\n Hair, hair-shirt, 373.\n\n Hale and how! pull ho! the cry of sailors, 141.\n\n Halp, Holp, helped, 95.\n\n Halse, embrace, 178.\n\n Handfast, betrothed, 272.\n\n Handsel, payment, earnest-money, 174.\n\n Hard Rock, castle of, 235.\n\n Harlon, king, 377.\n\n Harness, armour, 111.\n\n Harnessed, furnished, set, 189.\n\n Harry le Fise Lake, Sir, 287, 449, 455.\n\n Harsouse le Berbuse, 273.\n\n Hart, white, 66, 399.\n\n Harvis de les Marches, 273.\n\n Hauberk, coat or frock of mail, made of plates or chain-links sewn\n upon leather, 39.\n\n Haut, high, noble, 183.\n\n Hebes le Renoumes, Sir, 169, 448, 455, 469.\n\n Hectimere, Sir, 448.\n\n Hector, 108, 467.\n\n Helake, Sir, 299.\n\n Heleine, queen, 99.\n\n Helin le Blank, 343, 344.\n\n Helior le Preuse, Sir, 319.\n\n Helius, Sir, murders King Hermance, 297, 299.\n\n Hellaine le Blank, Sir, 448.\n\n Hellawes (the sorceress), 125.\n\n Hellias le Grose, 375.\n\n Hemison, Sir, 236;\n dies, 237.\n\n Herawd, lord, 104.\n\n Herb, holy, 78.\n\n Heringdale, lord, 104.\n\n Herlews le Berbeus, 58.\n\n Hermance of the Red City, king, 294, 297, 449.\n\n Hermel, duke, 60.\n\n Hermind, Sir, 298;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Hermits, who they were, 424.\n\n Hermonil, country of, 100.\n\n Hernox, earl, 398.\n\n Hervin, 388.\n\n Hervis de Revel, Sir, 56;\n chosen a knight of the Table Round, 78.\n\n Hervise de la Forest Savage, Sir, 449.\n\n Hew de la Montaine, 222.\n\n Hewgon, Sir, 273.\n\n Hight, was called, 25.\n\n Ho! halt! the word for stopping a tournament, 40, 278.\n\n Holt, a hill with a grove on it, 480.\n The \u2018two holts hoar\u2019 are described as \u2018two cliffs,\u2019 484;\n 107.\n\n Holts, 107.\n\n Hontzlake of Wentland, 72.\n\n Horse-litter, 27, 55, 272.\n\n Houselled, To be, to receive the sacrament, 260.\n\n Hove, hover, stand, 97.\n\n Howell, Sir, Duke of Brittany (Arthur\u2019s cousin), 102, 162, 191, 195,\n 434.\n\n Hue of the Red Castle, Sir, 96.\n\n Humber, 76, 77;\n bank, 294;\n 297.\n\n Hungary, land of, 446.\n\n Huntress, shoots Sir Launcelot, 433, 436.\n\n Hurlame, king, 393.\n\n Hurtle, dash, 138.\n\n\n Ider, Sir, 99.\n\n Idres of Cornwall, king, 35, 36, 38, 42.\n\n Idrus, Sir, 104.\n\n Igraine, 25, 26, 27, 28, 31, 42, 43, 120.\n\n Inde, 100.\n\n Inde, dark blue, 38, 137.\n\n Intermeddle, intermix, 404.\n\n Ireland, 31, 48;\n king of, 76;\n 95, 106, 151, 161;\n queen of, 164;\n 166, 168;\n king accused of treason, 177;\n 179, 246, 286.\n\n Ironside, Sir (the red knight of the red lawns), 149, 151;\n is made a knight of the Table Round, 160;\n 413, 438, 449.\n\n Isle of Longtainse, king of the, 76.\n\n Isoud la Blanche Mains, 191, 194, 237.\n\n Israel, people of, 402.\n\n Italy, 100.\n\n\n Jagent, castle of, 246.\n\n Jerusalem, 273, 284, 365.\n\n Jesseraunt, a sort of cuirass, of back and breast plates, 31.\n\n Jesus, 28.\n\n Jonas, 375.\n\n Jordanus, Sir, 26, (Jordans) 27.\n\n Joseph of Arimathea, 60, 326, 350, 356, 375, 406.\n\n Joshua, duke, 108, 396.\n\n Journey, day\u2019s work, 268.\n\n Joyous Gard, castle of, 177, 285, 301, 317, 321, 325, 345, 456;\n Guenever is taken to, 459;\n is besieged, 461;\n now Dolorous Gard, 468;\n some say it was Anwick, and some Bamborow, 486.\n See Introduction, p. xviii.\n\n Joyous Isle, 342.\n\n Jubance (a giant), 109.\n\n Judgment, alike for rich and poor, 416.\n\n Julius Cesar, 98.\n\n\n Kainus le Strange, Sir, 315.\n\n Kay, Sir, 29, 30, 34, 36, 56;\n kills two kings, 77;\n is chosen a knight of the Table Round, 78;\n smites off the giant\u2019s head, 103;\n 105, 118;\n life saved by Sir Launcelot, 121;\n 123, 127, 129, 131, 152, 169, 205, 209, 219, 232, 243, 316, 336, 349,\n 413, 421, 431, 448.\n\n Kay de Stranges, Sir, 448;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Kehydius, Sir (king Howel\u2019s son), 191, 192, 194, 205, 211.\n\n Kent, 477, 478.\n\n King, 30, 233.\n\n Kink-Kenadon, castle of, 128, 159.\n\n Knave, 108.\n\n Knight (how made), 65;\n errant, 84;\n 89, 94, 147, 206, 233, 280.\n\n\n La Beale Isoud, 168, 170, 179, 184, 186, 190, 192, 205, 211, 215,\n 225, 232, 236, 251, 253, 262, 266, 268;\n loses Sir Tristram, 283;\n leaves her husband, 285;\n jokes Sir Dinadan, 290;\n 304;\n calls Sir Palamides a felon, 314;\n 325, 345, 449.\n\n La Beale Regard, castle of, 272.\n\n La Cote Male Taile, 129, 152, 154;\n the evil-shapen coat, 197;\n 203;\n marries, 205;\n 413.\n\n Labor, king, 393.\n\n Ladinas, 34.\n\n Ladinas de la Rouse, 40.\n\n Ladinas of the Forest Savage, Sir, 438.\n\n Ladyday, 269.\n\n Lake, king of the, 78.\n\n Lake, lady of the, 47, 51;\n buried, 52;\n 78, 210, 448.\n\n Lambaile, earl of, 282, 448.\n\n Lambegus, Sir, 186, 187, 190, 448;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Lambeth, 440.\n\n Lamerake of Wales, 47.\n\n Lamiel of Cardiff, Sir, 449.\n\n Lamorak de Galis, Sir, 135, 139, 140, 152, 160, 188, 190, 192, 194,\n 197, 206, 226, 245;\n fights Sir Palamides, 256;\n justs, 258;\n 278, 288;\n how he was murdered, 293;\n 334, 413, 435, 448.\n\n Lanceor, Sir, 52, 54, 242.\n\n Landes, earl of the, 469.\n\n Langedok, duke of, 469.\n\n Lardans, 37.\n\n Largesse, bounty, 308.\n\n Laton, a mixed metal, like brass, 57.\n\n Launcelot de Lake, Sir, 54, 63, 64, 75, 89, 98, 99, 101, 104;\n is the first knight, 111;\n seeks Sir Lionel, 116;\n fights Sir Turquine, 117;\n slays two giants, 120;\n overthrows four knights, 123;\n climbs a tree for a falcon, 126;\n 129, 135, 139, 149, 152, 161, 164, 170, 176, 184, 197, 201, 208, 222;\n justs with Sir Tristram, 227;\n 230, 237, 243;\n fetches king Mark, 252;\n 258, 270, 274, 278;\n justs with Sir Tristram, 305;\n 313;\n is pulled from his horse, 316;\n 325;\n sees Elaine 327;\n ran mad two years, 332;\n healed by Sancgreal, 340;\n returns to Arthur\u2019s court, 344;\n not the best knight, 352;\n his lineage, 352;\n is felled by his son, 362;\n hindered by his sin from doing holy things, 363;\n seeks the adventures of the Sancgreal, 374;\n meets his son on board ship, 402;\n 411;\n is forbidden the court by Guenever, 412;\n fights for the queen, 417;\n watched day and night by Elaine, 426;\n is like a corpse, 428;\n buries Elaine, and is in the queen\u2019s favour again, 432;\n smites down fifty knights, 435;\n goes to Guenever\u2019s relief, 440;\n falls into a trap, 444;\n slays Sir Meliagrance, 446;\n heals Sir Urre, 450;\n found in the queen\u2019s chamber, 453;\n fights against Arthur and takes his queen, 459;\n is besieged, 461;\n pleads his cause before Arthur, 465;\n goes to France, and rewards his fellowship, 469;\n fights with Sir Gawaine, 473;\n returns to England, and finds Guenever in a nunnery, 482;\n buries Guenever, and why he faints, 485;\n his character, 486;\n is buried, 487.\n\n Laurel, dame, 160.\n\n Lavaine, Sir, 420, 430;\n smites Arthur to the earth, 435;\n 443;\n made a knight of the Table Round, 450;\n 455, 468, 469.\n\n Lawn, an open space in a forest, 90.\n\n Lay, a song, 263.\n\n Lazar-cote, a hut for keeping lepers in, 190.\n\n Le Chevaler du Chariot, 442, 450.\n\n Le Chevaler Mal Fet, 341, 344.\n\n Leach, physician, surgeon, 45, 283, 400.\n\n Leodegrance of Cameliard, king, 41, 42, 64.\n\n Leomie, Sir (king), 105.\n\n Lesses les aler, herald\u2019s cry, 445.\n\n Let to, hinder from, 476.\n\n Letters, 32.\n\n Lever, rather, 102.\n\n Lianour, duke, 360.\n\n Libbard, leopard, 207.\n\n Lief, dear, 480.\n\n Lile of Avelion, 49, 52.\n\n Limosin, duke of, 469.\n\n Linet, 139, 140, 143, 145, 151, 158;\n marries Sir Gaheris, 160.\n\n Lion, 37, 197, 326, 369.\n\n Lionel, Sir, 103, 111, 115, 118, 152, 230, 333, 343;\n said to be dead, 385;\n rides over Sir Bors, 388;\n cloud separates, 390;\n 405, 412, 421, 435, 448;\n is crowned, 469;\n is slain, 484.\n\n Liones, 139, 141, 145, 147, 150, 152;\n marries Sir Gareth, 160.\n\n Liones,\n country of, 162;\n 165;\n castle of, 283.\n\n Liones, sometimes said to be a supposed tract of country called\n Lionesse, between the Land\u2019s End and the Scilly Isles, now\n submerged. But more probably St. Pol de Leon in Brittany is meant.\n\n Lionors, 41.\n\n Lionses, 33, 38.\n\n Lionses of Payarne, 41.\n\n Lisais, 375.\n\n Listinoise, country of, 286;\n king of, 302.\n\n Little Britain, king of, 99;\n realm of, 100.\n\n Logris, realm of, 194, 213, 231, 285, 297, 341, 392, 393, 405, 408.\n Loegria, Saxon Britain.\n\n Lombardy,\n warriors of, 100;\n 107;\n lords of, 108.\n\n Lonazep, castle of, 286, 293, 301.\n\n London, 28, 30, 33, 49, 64, 413;\n Arthur returns to, 424;\n tower of, besieged, 475, 477.\n\n Longius, 60.\n\n Loraine, 107;\n duke of, 108;\n duchy of, 110.\n\n Loraine le Savage, 74.\n\n Lords, 30.\n\n Lot,\n king of Lothian and of Orkney, 27;\n 31, 35, 36, 37, 40, 56, 58, 139.\n\n Loth, hateful, 179.\n\n Lotless, without a share, 242.\n\n Love, as it is and was, 437.\n\n Lovel, Sir, 448, 452.\n\n Lowe, hillock or tumulus, 449.\n\n Lubber, clumsy fellow, 132.\n\n Luca the botteler, Sir, 448, 470, 478;\n dies, 479.\n\n Lucan (the butler), Sir, 230, 435.\n\n Lucanere de Buttelere, Sir, 310, 421.\n\n Lucas, Sir, 33, 36.\n\n Lucius, emperor,\n sends to Arthur for truage, 98;\n 100;\n goes to war with Arthur, 103;\n is killed by Arthur, 106.\n\n Lyly, king of, 104.\n\n\n Maccab\u00e6us, 108.\n\n Macedone, 100.\n\n Madok de la Montaine, Sir, 222.\n\n Mador de la Porte, Sir, 115, 116, 128, 278, 413;\n accuses the queen of poisoning, 414;\n fights with Sir Launcelot, 417;\n 449, 452.\n\n Magons, traitors of, 283.\n\n Magouns, castle of, 268.\n\n Maidens, castle of, 219, 225, 228, 293, 359.\n\n Maker, author, poet, 487.\n\n Mal-ease, bad plight, 196.\n\n Maledisant, damsel, 199;\n called Bienpensant, 203;\n called Beauvivante, 205.\n\n Malegrine, Sir, 152.\n\n Mal-engine, evil design, 416.\n\n Maleore, Sir Thomas, 487.\n\n Malgrine, Sir, 153, 270.\n\n Manassen, 86.\n\n Manna, 402.\n\n Mantle, richest (burns the wearer), 87.\n\n Manuel, 375.\n\n Marches, 42.\n\n Margawse, 27.\n\n Marhalt, king of Ireland, 302.\n\n Marhaus, Sir, 88;\n fights the duke and his six sons, 95;\n kills the giant Taulurd, 96;\n is killed, 98;\n 105, 118, 164;\n is beaten by Sir Tristram, 166;\n 179.\n\n Mariet de la Roche, 40.\n\n Mark, a king of Cornwall, 54, 101, 161, 164, 167, 173, 181, 184, 187,\n 190, 194, 213, 231, 246;\n runs away, 249;\n 252, 256;\n is called king Fox, 262;\n murders his brother, 268;\n plans Sir Tristram\u2019s death, 283;\n is put in prison, 285;\n 449.\n\n Marrok, Sir, 105, 449.\n\n Marsil, king, 277.\n\n Mary, Saint, 384, 396, 399.\n\n Masauke, earl of, 469.\n\n Mass-penny, sum of money offered, 432.\n\n Masteries, 129.\n\n Matchcold, having holes within the parapet of the walls for pouring\n stones or molten lead through, 135.\n\n Matto le Breune, Sir, 213.\n\n Maugre, in spite of, 72;\n misfortune, 461.\n\n Maurel, Sir, 105.\n\n May,\n when every lusty heart blossoms, 437;\n 451, 476.\n\n May-day, 48.\n\n Measle, disease, 400.\n\n Meddle, mix, 294.\n\n Meleaus, de Lile, Sir, 449.\n\n Meliaganus, Sir, 152.\n\n Meliagaunce, Sir (Bagdemagus\u2019s son), 207, 275;\n loves Guenever, 438;\n fights for her, 439;\n accuses her of treason, 443.\n\n Meliagrance, Sir, is smitten by Sir Launcelot, 446.\n\n Melias de Lile, Sir, 357, 359, 455, 469.\n\n Meliganus, 154.\n\n Meliodas, king of Liones, 161, 165, 172.\n\n Melion de Tartare, Sir, 333.\n\n Melion of the mountain, Sir, 448, 452.\n\n Meliot, castle of, 57.\n\n Meliot de Logres, Sir, 124, 128, 152, 421, 448, 452.\n\n Meliot of Logurs, Sir, 73.\n\n Melot de la Roche, 36.\n\n Menaduke, Sir, 448, 455;\n made an earl, 469.\n\n Meniver, 338.\n\n Merlin, 26;\n met by Ulfius, _ib._;\n sees Uther, _ib._, 27;\n comes to Carlion, 31;\n 34, 36, 38, 40, 42, 43, 46, 49, 52, 54;\n deceives king Lot, 56;\n 63;\n warns Arthur of Guenever, 64;\n 74;\n falls in a dotage on Nimue, 75;\n a devil\u2019s son, _ib._;\n is found under a stone, 78;\n 85, 162, 242, 299;\n made the Round Table in tokening of the roundness of the world, 366.\n\n Mickle, much, 26.\n\n Milan, 110.\n\n Miles, 44, 74.\n\n Minster, 349.\n\n Minstrel, 267.\n\n Miscreant, misbeliever, 487.\n\n Moises land, marquis of, 109.\n\n Mondrames, 356.\n\n Mordrains, king, 394, 406.\n\n Mordred, Sir, 49, 57, 115, 116, 128, 199, 229, 248, 261, 274, 279,\n 336, 412, 421, 435, 448;\n takes Arthur sad news, 457;\n will make trouble, 469;\n has the rule of Arthur\u2019s land, 470;\n usurps England, and tries to wed Guenever, 474;\n is beaten by Arthur, 476;\n is killed, 479.\n\n Morgan le Fay (Arthur\u2019s sister), 27, 44, 57, 78, 80, 83;\n wishes to slay her husband, 85;\n shapes herself, horse and man, unto a stone, 86;\n 113, 189, 193, 220, 235, 237, 263, 270, 326, 328;\n takes Arthur, 481.\n\n Morganore, king, 38, 449.\n\n Morganore, Sir, 37, 177.\n\n Morgawse, queen (Arthur\u2019s sister), 56, 139;\n the fairest, 208.\n\n Morians, 40.\n\n Moris, Sir, 105.\n\n Moris de la Roche, 37.\n\n Morris, forest of, 232.\n\n Mortaise,\n water of, 149;\n 371, 401.\n\n Mountenance, extent, 131, 256.\n\n\n Nabon le Noire, Sir, 192.\n\n Nacien (the hermit), 352;\n says how the quest should be made, 353;\n 375;\n interprets dreams, 380;\n 394.\n\n Nanowne le Petite, Sir, 192.\n\n Nappus, 375.\n\n Naram, 48.\n\n Nauntes, city of, 42.\n\n Navy, 101, 267, 475.\n\n Ne, nor, 99.\n\n Nentres, of Garlot, king, 27, 31, 35, 36, 42, 448.\n\n Nero, 42, 55.\n\n Neroreneus, Sir, 455, 469.\n\n Nerovens de Lile, Sir, 201, 202, 449.\n\n Nigramous, lady of the castle, 125.\n\n Nigromancy, 27.\n\n Nimue, 73;\n Merlin falls in a dotage on, 75;\n 94, 210, 418, 449, 481.\n\n Nobley, splendour, 244.\n\n Normandy, duke of, 469.\n\n Northfolk, 477.\n\n Northgalis, queen of, 113;\n king of, 114;\n 116, 125, 128, 219, 222, 228, 270, 275, 277, 305;\n queen of, 326;\n king of, 419;\n 428, 434;\n queen of, 481.\n\n Northumberland, 41, 50, 51, 63, 152, 286;\n king of, 420;\n 434.\n\n Noseling, on his nose, 395.\n\n Noyous, injurious, 398.\n\n Nunnery, 27, 185.\n\n Nuns, 84, 85, 348.\n\n\n Ontzlake, Sir, 79, 81.\n\n Orgule, pride, 485.\n\n Orgulous, haughty, 475.\n\n Orgulous, castle, 199.\n\n Orkney, queen of, 150, 151, 153, 158.\n\n Osanna, Sir, 96.\n\n Ossaise of Surluse, Sir, 281.\n\n Ouche, jewelled ornament, 465.\n\n Out Isles, queen of, 113.\n\n Overthwart, across, 134, 143.\n\n Ozana le Cure Hardy, Sir, 248, 250, 421, 438, 484.\n\n\n Pageant, 316.\n\n Palamides the Saracen, Sir, 43, 139, 152, 168, 179, 185, 199, 207,\n 225, 227, 234, 240;\n follows the questing beast, 250;\n 253, 256, 275, 287;\n hates Sir Tristram, 292;\n slays two knights, 299;\n 304;\n justs with Sir Ector, 305;\n is a traitor, 312;\n his woe, 318;\n sees his faded visage in a well, 323;\n 345, 413, 421, 434, 455, 468;\n made a duke, 469.\n\n Paltock (paletot), a coat with sleeves, 108.\n\n Pampoille, country of, 100.\n\n Paradise, 108, 395.\n\n Pardiak, earl of, 469.\n\n Paris, 104, 105, 108.\n\n Parliament is called, 469, 474.\n\n Pase, earl of, 272.\n\n Passe-Brewel (Tristram\u2019s horse), 220.\n\n Patrise, Sir,\n is poisoned, 413;\n 418.\n\n Pavia, 110.\n\n Payarne, country of, 33.\n\n Paynim, 231, 280, 356.\n\n Pedivere, Sir,\n cuts his wife\u2019s head off, 127;\n 329.\n\n Pellam of Listengise, king, 59, 63.\n\n Pellandris, 204.\n\n Pelleas, Sir, 89;\n smites down ten knights, 90;\n 98, 122, 418, 435, 438, 449.\n\n Pelles, king, 326, 330, 351, 375, 395, 404, 407.\n\n Pellinore, king, 43, 46, 48, 56, 66, 72, 75;\n sent for by Arthur to go with him to fight, 76;\n 193, 218, 256, 334, 393.\n\n Pellogris, 204.\n\n Pellounes, Sir, 221.\n\n Pelownes, castle of, 321.\n\n Pelowres, Pillers, men who fight for pillage, 281.\n\n Pendragon, castle of, 201, 202.\n\n Pensel, small flag, 280.\n\n Pentecost, 30;\n feast of, 97;\n 98, 125, 128, 148, 345;\n feast of, and holy graile, 353;\n 432.\n\n Percard, Sir, 134;\n the black knight, 138;\n 149.\n\n Perch, pierce, 184.\n\n Percivale de Galis, Sir, 47, 139, 152, 259;\n seeks Sir Tristram, 284;\n 287, 333;\n prays, 337;\n 342, 350, 362;\n comes to a recluse, 365;\n one of the men that most believed in Christ, 369;\n punishes his own flesh, 372;\n 393, 398;\n lays his dead sister in a barge, 401;\n dies, 410;\n 448.\n\n Perclose, enclosure, 367.\n\n Perdy (per Dieu), truly, 144, 155.\n\n Perigot (peregrine), a kind of falcon, 125.\n\n Perigot, earl of, 469.\n\n Perimones, Sir (the red knight), 138, 148, 153, 160, 449;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Perin de la Montaine, 273.\n\n Perin de Mountbeliard, 58.\n\n Peris de Forest Savage, Sir, 119.\n\n Peron, tombstone, 239.\n\n Persant of Inde, Sir, 137, 139, 140, 148, 151, 153, 160, 413, 438,\n 449.\n\n Persides de Bloise, Sir, 221, 226, 228;\n bound to a stone, 335.\n\n Pertilope, Sir, 449, 459.\n\n Pertolepe, Sir (the green knight), 138, 148, 160.\n\n Peschour, king, 363.\n\n Petchere, lord, 351.\n\n Petersaint, land of, 110.\n\n Petipase of Winchelsea, Sir, 70, 152, 448.\n\n Phariance, Sir, 33, 38, 41.\n\n Phelot, Sir, 125.\n\n Pight, pitched, 25.\n\n Pike, take away, 237, 468.\n\n Piller, plunderer, 479.\n\n Pillounes, 204.\n\n Pinel, 36.\n\n Pinel le Savage, Sir, tries to poison Sir Gawaine, 413;\n flies, 418.\n\n Placidas, Sir, 34.\n\n Plaine de Amoure, Sir, 203.\n\n Plaine de Force, Sir, 203, 449.\n\n Plains, earl of, 388.\n\n Pleasance, land of, 110.\n\n Plenorius, Sir, 203, 205, 449, 455, 469.\n\n Pluere, castle of (weeping castle), 181.\n\n Plump, clump of trees, 40.\n\n Poictiers, duke of, 469.\n\n Pointment, appointment, 478.\n\n Pomitain, island of, 277.\n\n Pope of Rome, 127, 284;\n threatens Arthur, 464.\n\n Portingale, country of, 100.\n\n Potestate, 106.\n\n Pounce, country, 100.\n\n Priamus, Sir, 108;\n is christened, and made a knight of the Table Round, 110;\n 448;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Pricker, light rider, 108.\n\n Pricking, riding, 368.\n\n Pridam le Noire, 382, 383.\n\n Prise, the note blown on the death of the stag, 79.\n\n Prisoner, 231.\n\n Provence, duke of the, 469.\n\n Prowess, 78, 79, 82, 104.\n\n Pursuivants, messengers, 219.\n\n Purvey, provide, 28, 49.\n\n\n Quarel, a bolt from a crossbow, 330.\n\n Querne, duke of, 469.\n\n Quest, 43, 75, 196, 198, 230, 286.\n\n Questing, baying, giving tongue as hounds do, 43, 207, 250.\n\n\n Rack of bulls, herd, 378.\n\n Raines, a town in Brittany, famous for fine cloth, 485.\n\n Ransack, examine, 104.\n\n Rash, tear off (arracher), 118.\n Also rush.\n\n Rasure, cutting wind, 437.\n\n Raynold, Sir, 122.\n\n Rechate, recal, 286.\n\n Recreant, 82, 83.\n\n Red Castle, 96.\n Powys Castle, so called in Welsh.\n\n Red City, 296, 298.\n\n Rede, counsel, 157, 443.\n\n Reynold, Sir, 448.\n\n Rience of North Wales, king, 41, 42. See Ryons.\n\n Rivage, shore, 409.\n\n Roche-dure, 237.\n\n Rochester, bishop of, 464.\n\n Rock, lady of the, 96.\n\n Roerge, earl of, 469.\n\n Romans, 99;\n fight with the Britons, 104.\n\n Rome, 111, 127, 161.\n\n Rome, emperor of, 45, 98.\n\n Rome, growl, roar, 101.\n\n Roted, practised, 271.\n\n Rounspik, a branch with other branches growing out of it, 126.\n\n Rowse, duke de la, 156, 160.\n\n Ryons, king, 48, 52;\n brought to Arthur, 55.\n See Rience.\n\n\n Sacring, consecrating, 367.\n\n Sad, heavy: Sadly, steadily, 435.\n\n Sadok, Sir, 152, 268, 283, 304, 448, 469.\n\n Safere, Sir, 152, 253, 256, 270, 278, 320, 413, 421, 435, 455, 468.\n\n Sagramore le Desirous, Sir, 96, 123, 127, 152, 169, 174, 176, 219,\n 226, 241, 273, 302, 333, 399, 421, 438, 448.\n\n Sagwarides, Sir, 152, 172, 192, 194, 253, 295;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Saint Michael\u2019s mount, a famous place of pilgrimage in Normandy, 102.\n\n Saint Stephen\u2019s, church of, 56, 66.\n\n Salisbury, 57, 411, 477.\n\n Samite, rich silk sometimes interwoven with gold or silver, 370.\n\n Sanam, earl, 41.\n\n Sandwich, 100, 101, 111, 467.\n\n Sangreal\n (Sancgreal, the holy greal, graale, or grail. See Introduction, p.\n xviii.), 57, 58;\n quest of, 60;\n book of, 63;\n adventures of, 64;\n 78, 98;\n quest of, 262;\n 326;\n is seen, 327;\n 329;\n what it is, 337;\n 340;\n Sir Galahad is to achieve it, 351;\n 361, 363, 366, 370, 379;\n appears not to sinners, 381;\n 403, 407, 409, 411;\n quest of, 483;\n its etymology, 491.\n\n Saracens, 40, 42 (or infidels), 100;\n 104, 106;\n of Southland, 108;\n 187, 267, 279, 284, 356.\n\n Sarpi, girdle, 465.\n\n Sarras,\n city of, 356;\n 367, 401, 407;\n the spiritual place, 408.\n\n Sasere, Sir, 139.\n\n Sauseise, 275.\n\n Scaffolds, 116, 136, 278.\n\n Schedule, letter, 476.\n\n Scotland, 30;\n king of, 31;\n 49, 97, 151;\n king of, 152;\n 168, 285, 333, 397;\n king of, 420;\n 447.\n\n Scots, king of, 177, 434.\n\n Scout-watch, 35.\n\n Search, examine by a surgeon, 167.\n\n Selises, 303.\n\n Selises, Sir, 449, 455, 469.\n\n Selivant, Sir, 338, 339.\n\n Semound the Valiant, 276.\n\n Sendal, cloth of, a thin silk, 106, 114.\n\n Seneschal, the chief officer, whether of the household or of the\n dominions of a sovereign, 29, 232.\n\n Sentonge, duke of, 469.\n\n Sentraile, Sir, 449.\n\n Sentraille de Lushon, Sir, 190.\n\n Servage, Isle of, 192, 194.\n\n Servause le Breuse, Sir, 448.\n\n Sessoin (perhaps Soissons), Saxony, 263;\n people, 264;\n Sessoyne, land of, 105.\n\n Severn, river, 359.\n\n Sewer, the officer who set on the dishes and tasted them, 160.\n\n Shaftmon, a measure from the top of the extended thumb to the other\n end of the fist or palm, about six inches, 147.\n\n Shawe, thicket, 233.\n\n Shend, damage, 470.\n\n Shenship, 346.\n\n Shent, confounded, disgraced, 141.\n\n Sherwood, forest of, 41.\n\n Shield, 236, 237.\n\n Ship, 79.\n\n Shrew, rascal, scamp, 280.\n\n Shrewd, evil, 217.\n\n Siege Perilous, 66, 326;\n sat in by Galahad, 348;\n 349;\n taken by Sir Galahad, 350;\n 366.\n\n Siege, seat, 65, 78, 137.\n\n Simeon, 406.\n\n Sith, since, 361.\n\n Sithen, since, 118.\n\n Slade, 132.\n\n Slake, ditch, ravine, 114.\n\n Soil, To go to, hunting term for taking to the water, 433.\n\n Soleise, king of, 76.\n\n Solomon, 395, 397.\n\n Sondes, sendings, messages, 475.\n\n Sorceress, 447.\n\n Sorhaute, 42.\n\n Sorlouse of the Forest, 67.\n\n Soul, how it left the body, 280.\n\n Southfolk, 477.\n\n South Marches, duke of, 95.\n\n Southsex, 268, 477.\n\n Sowdan of Surrey, 106.\n\n Spain, 446.\n\n Spaniards, 100.\n\n Spere, ask, 362.\n\n Spolute, 110.\n\n Stalk, a hunting term, 433.\n\n Stole, part of a priest\u2019s dress, worn round the neck, 373.\n\n Stonied, stunned, 132.\n\n Stour, battle, 383, 463.\n\n Straight Marches, king of the, 307.\n\n Straked, blew a horn, 215.\n\n Sue, follow, 361.\n\n Suffragan, 347.\n\n Supper, 79.\n\n Suppinabiles, Sir, 191, 449.\n\n Suppings, 215.\n\n Surgeons, 106, 167.\n\n Surlat, earldom of, 469.\n\n Surluse, country of, 203, 234, 274, 280, 286, 293, 302.\n\n Surrey, 477.\n\n Surrie, country of, 100.\n\n Sword, 28, 29;\n in the red stone, 349;\n 393.\n\n Swough, sound, 100.\n\n\n Table Round, 30, 41, 64, 66, 77, 78, 95, 98, 100, 101, 106, 109, 111,\n 112, 115, 117, 118;\n one hundred and fifty the complement of, 128;\n 149, 152, 154, 158, 164, 173, 195, 202;\n feast of, 241;\n 258, 282, 287, 304, 315;\n is to be broken, 327;\n 350;\n Arthur\u2019s fear of, 353;\n is entered into the quest, 363;\n 389;\n more than half the knights are slain, 405;\n the remnant meets again, 411;\n 423, 434, 438;\n the knights\u2019 names, 448;\n fellowship of the, broken for ever, 457;\n 469, 487.\n\n Taches, qualities, disposition, 163.\n\n Tallages, taxes, 99.\n\n Tarce, country of, 100.\n\n Taulas, 96.\n\n Tauleas (a giant), 214.\n\n Taulurd (a giant), 96.\n\n Teen, grief, 107.\n\n Terrabil, castle of, 25, 26, 53, 56.\n\n Thames, river, 431, 440.\n\n Thrall, 361.\n\n Thring, push, press, 459.\n\n Thrull, pierce, 200.\n\n Tintagil,\n duke of, 25;\n 26;\n castle of (a castle in Cornwall, the ruins of which still exist),\n 26;\n 120, 164, 167, 172, 213, 233, 262, 283.\n\n Tirre, Sir, 420, 425, 430.\n\n To brast, To-shiver, &c., break to pieces, 331.\n\n Tolleme la Feintes, king, 356.\n\n Tor (the cowherd\u2019s son), 65, 69, 75;\n is chosen a knight of the Table Round, 78;\n 152;\n (called) Sir Tor le Fise de Vayshoure, 209;\n 259, 448;\n is slain, 459.\n\n Tor le Fise Aries, Sir, 247.\n\n Tournament, 153, 168, 223, 283, 385, 434.\n\n Trasing and rasing, dodging and striking, 117.\n\n Travers, At, coming across them, 407.\n\n Treason, 177;\n what it included, 414;\n its punishment, 457.\n\n Tremble, port of, 110.\n\n Trent, 30, 35.\n\n Trest, 433;\n a term of hunting, the technical meaning of which I cannot find:\n but the word is in Romance the participle of Trere, tirer,\n trahere.\n\n Trian, Sir, 246.\n\n Trinity, Holy, 356, 409.\n\n Tristram de Liones, Sir, 54, 89, 96;\n kills Sir Marhaus, 98;\n 101, 122, 135, 139, 152, 160;\n why he was so named, 162;\n book of, 163;\n overcomes Sir Marhaus, 166;\n calls himself Tramtrist, 168;\n 171, 175, 178;\n kills Sir Brunor and his lady, 183;\n 187, 190;\n marries, 191;\n 194, 205, 209;\n goes mad, 212;\n recounts his adventures, 216;\n is a devil and no man, 224;\n justs with Sir Launcelot, 227;\n is imprisoned, 231;\n 234, 238, 244, 252, 258;\n at Tintagil, 264;\n fights Sir Elias, 266;\n attempt to kill, 283;\n is the best chaser and horn-blower: all good terms of venery and\n hunting came from, 286, 291;\n sees the dead knight with a letter, 294;\n justs at Lonazep, 304;\n Sir Palamides envies, 313;\n smites down Arthur, 316;\n has a wound six inches deep, 325;\n 345, 448.\n\n Troilus, 467.\n\n Truage, tribute, 98.\n\n Truss, take up, pack up, make ready, 369, 469.\n\n Turkey, country of, 100.\n\n Turks, 487.\n\n Turnance, Isle of, 394.\n\n Turquine, Sir, 112;\n is killed by Sir Launcelot, 118;\n 127, 152.\n\n Tursauk, earl of, 469.\n\n Tuscany, warriors of, 100;\n country of, 107;\n 110.\n\n\n Ubbley, sacramental bread, 408.\n\n Ulbause, earl, 448.\n\n Ulbawes of Surluse, earl, 281.\n\n Ulfin, Sir, 392.\n\n Ulfius, Sir,\n seeks Merlin, 26;\n 28, 30, 33, 36, 44.\n\n Umbecast, cast about, 433.\n\n Umberere, the part of the helmet which shaded the eyes, 197.\n\n Underne, Undorne, nine in the morning, 144, 463.\n\n Unhappy, causing ill luck, 479.\n\n Unnethe, scarcely, 92.\n\n Unwimple, to uncover, to show, 273.\n\n Unwrast, untwisted, unbound, 190.\n\n Urbine, city of, 110.\n\n Urein, 310.\n\n Urience of the land of Gore, king, 448.\n\n Uriens, king (Arthur\u2019s brother-in-law), 27, 31, 35, 37, 42, 57;\n chosen a knight of the Table Round, 78;\n 79;\n his wife wants to kill him, 85;\n 87, 152, 379, 434.\n\n Urre, Sir, 446;\n made a knight of the Table Round, 450;\n 455, 468, 469.\n\n Utas, eighth day of a festival, 100.\n\n Utas of Hilary, 100.\n\n Uther Pendragon, sends for Tintagil, lays siege to Terrabil, 25;\n sees Merlin, 26;\n marries Igraine, 27;\n dies, 28;\n 30, 31, 43, 44, 64, 121.\n\n Utterance, uttermost (outrance), 199.\n\n Uwaine le Blanchemains, Sir (king Uriens\u2019 son), 85;\n suspected and sent from court 87;\n fights Sir Marhaus, 88;\n smites thirty knights, 96;\n 97, 99, 123, 127, 152, 230, 232, 238, 248, 256, 279, 302, 333, 355.\n\n Uwaine les Adventurous, 248.\n\n Uwaine les Avoutres, Sir, 152, 361, 379, 448.\n\n\n Vagon, castle of, lord of, 354.\n\n Vains, 273.\n\n Vale, earl de, 373.\n\n Vale, king of the, 76.\n\n Varlet, servant, 290.\n\n Vawse, lady de, 95.\n\n Venery, hunting, 163.\n\n Ventails, breathing holes, 295.\n\n Vermins, 286.\n\n Vicecount, vale of, 110.\n\n Villiars, Sir, 448, 455, 469.\n\n Viterbe, 110.\n\n\n Wade, 135.\n\n Waits, watchmen, 156.\n\n Wales, 27, 30, 31, 49, 76;\n king of, 77;\n march of, 96;\n 97;\n west, 99;\n 128, 161, 168, 192, 194, 205, 209, 219, 262, 284, 286, 333, 375.\n\n Wallop, gallop, 45, 72.\n\n Wandesborow, 40;\n castle of, 42.\n\n Wap, strike, move quickly, 480. Mr. Tennyson renders \u2018Wap and wan\u2019 by\n \u2018lapping on the crag.\u2019\n\n Warison, reward, 216.\n\n Waste Lands, queen of the, 365;\n takes Arthur, 481.\n\n Web of lead, a thin sheet of, 485.\n\n Weeds, dress, 308, 399.\n\n Weld, possess, 151.\n\n Well, Galahad\u2019s, 406.\n\n Wend, thought, 97.\n\n Werwolf, a man turned into a wolf by magic, 449.\n\n Westminster, 414, 416;\n church of, 418;\n 431, 437;\n bridge, 440;\n 444.\n\n Wight, active, brave, 135, 200.\n\n Williars le Valiant, Sir, 484, 487.\n\n Winchester\n (_i. e._ Camelot), 63;\n 127, 344, 418, 427, 474.\n\n Windesan, city of, 42.\n\n Windsor, 412;\n forest of, 433.\n\n Wisshard, Sir, 107, 108.\n\n Witch, 31.\n\n Witchcraft, 51.\n\n Wood, mad, 332.\n\n Worship, honour, 197, 415.\n\n Worts, herbs, 379.\n\n Wrake, wrack, destruction, 451.\n\n\n York, parliament held at, 100.\n\n Yule, Christmas, 108.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n Transcriber's Notes\n\n\n When italics were used in the original book, the corresponding text\n has been surrounded by _underscores_. Superscripted letters have been\n preceded by ^, and the letter n with a macron above it has been\n represented as [=n].\n\n Some presumed printer's errors have been corrected, including\n normalizing punctuation. Unusual spellings and alternate spellings\n were preserved as printed, except where noted below. The variable\n spelling of proper names is addressed by the editor in the\n introduction (here) and in the preamble to the Index and Glossary\n (here). Therefore, in the few cases that a correction has been made\n to a proper name, the rationale for that correction has been\n provided. Corrections are listed below with the printed text (top)\n and corrected text (bottom):\n\n love for her whom he does not know to he his sister (p. xi)\n love for her whom he does not know to be his sister\n\n mediaeval (p. xiv)\n medi\u00e6val\n\n Marte phalanges. (p. xxv)\n Marte phalanges.\u2019\n\n matters, came into England. (p. 23)\n matters, he came into England.\n\n Now turn me unto Sir Launcelot (p. 127)\n Now turn we unto Sir Launcelot\n\n said sir Tristram (p. 178)\n said Sir Tristram\n\n wheresover (p. 207)\n wheresoever\n\n Paymin (p. 280)\n Paynim\n\n (based on 10 occurrences of p/Paynim(s) and on the fact that the\n alternate spelling would significantly change the pronunciation)\n\n seige (p. 326)\n siege\n\n Launclot (p. 364)\n Launcelot\n\n (based on 2447 occurrences of Launcelot and only one occurrence of\n Launclot)\n\n Pertipole (Index)\n Pertilope\n\n Servause le Breuse (Index)\n Servause le Bruese\n\n (both of the above alternate spellings occur only in the Index)\n\n Duplicate words were removed in the following sentences (the\n duplicated word was always found at the end of one line and at the\n beginning of the next line):\n\n p. 316 and gat the the horse\n\n p. 392 for for so is our Lord\u2019s will.\n\n p. 413 Porte, to to take a poisoned apple.\n\n p. 448 Sir Tristram the the noble knight\n\n The last three chapters of Book Four were renumbered to match the\n Table of Contents.","title":"Le Morte Darthur: Sir Thomas Malory's Book of King Arthur and his Noble; Knights of the Round Table","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":392460}