{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_66585/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_66585","id":"gutenberg_66585","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66585","summary":null,"tags":["Arthur, King -- Legends","Arthurian romances -- Adaptations","Category: British Literature","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Folklore -- England","Knights and knighthood -- Folklore"],"text":"THE BOY'S KING ARTHUR\n\n                      SIR THOMAS MALORY'S HISTORY\n                                  OF\n            KING ARTHUR AND HIS KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE\n\n                            EDITED FOR BOYS\n                                  BY\n                             SIDNEY LANIER\n\n                      ILLUSTRATED BY N. C. WYETH\n\n                _Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons_\n\n                               NEW YORK\n                        CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS\n                                 1929\n\n                          COPYRIGHT, 1880, BY\n                        CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS\n\n                       COPYRIGHT, 1908, 1922, BY\n                            MARY DAY LANIER\n\n                          COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY\n                        CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS\n\n                Printed in the United States of America\n\n    In this edition of Mr. Lanier's classic \"Boy's King Arthur\"\n    omission has been made of some minor passages and introductory\n    matter--all the greater tales, those of Arthur, Launcelot, Tristram,\n    Gareth, Galahad, Percival, and the Holy Grail, being retained.\n\n\n\n\n                               CONTENTS\n\n\n                   BOOK I.   OF KING ARTHUR\n\n                   BOOK II.  OF SIR LAUNCELOT DU LAKE\n\n                   BOOK III. OF SIR GARETH OF ORKNEY\n\n                   BOOK IV.  OF SIR TRISTRAM\n\n                   BOOK V.   OF SIR GALAHAD AND SIR PERCIVAL, AND THE\n                             QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL\n\n                   BOOK VI.  OF THE FAIR MAID OF ASTOLAT\n\n                   BOOK VII. OF THE DEATH OF ARTHUR\n\n\n\n\n                             ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\nAnd when they came to the sword that the hand held, King Arthur took it\nup\n\n\"I am Sir Launcelot du Lake, King Ban's son of Benwick, and knight of\nthe Round Table\"\n\nAnd lived by fruit and such as he might get\n\nThe lady Lyoness ... had the dwarf in examination\n\n\"They fought with him on foot more than three hours, both before him\nand behind him\"\n\nKing Mark slew the noble knight Sir Tristram as he sat harping before\nhis lady la Belle Isolde\n\nSir Mador's spear brake all to pieces, but the other's spear held\n\nHe rode his way with the queen unto Joyous Gard\n\nThen Sir Launcelot saw her visage, but he wept not greatly, but sighed\n\n\n\n\n                                BOOK I\n\n                            OF KING ARTHUR\n\n\nIt befell in the days of the noble Utherpendragon, when he was King of\nEngland, [that there was born to him a son who in after time was King\nArthur. Howbeit the boy knew not he was the king's son. For when he was\nbut a babe] the king commanded two knights and two ladies to take the\nchild bound in rich cloth of gold, \"and deliver him to what poor man\nyou meet at the postern gate of the castle.\" So the child was delivered\nunto Merlin, and so he bare it forth unto Sir Ector, and made an holy\nman to christen him, and named him Arthur; and so Sir Ector's wife\nnourished him. Then within two years King Uther fell sick of a great\nmalady; [and thereof he died]. Then stood the realm in great [danger] a\nlong while, for every lord made him strong, and many weened [_thought_]\nto have been king. [And so, by Merlin's counsel, all the lords of\nEngland came together in the greatest church of London on Christmas\nmorn before it was day, to see if God would not show by some miracle\nwho should be king.] And when the first mass was done there was seen\nin the church-yard, against the high altar, a great stone four-square,\nlike to a marble stone, and in the midst thereof was an anvil of steel,\na foot of height, and therein stuck a fair sword naked by the point,\nand letters of gold were written about the sword that said thus:\nWHO SO PULLETH OUT THIS SWORD OF THIS STONE AND ANVIL, IS RIGHTWISE\nKING BORN OF ENGLAND.\n\nSo when all the masses were done, all the [lords] went for to behold\nthe stone and the sword. And when they saw the scripture, some assayed\n[_tried_] such as would have been king. But none might stir the sword\nnor move it.\n\n\"He is not yet here,\" said the archbishop, \"that shall achieve the\nsword, but doubt not God will make him to be known. But this is my\ncounsel,\" said the archbishop, \"that we let purvey [_provide_] ten\nknights, men of good fame, and they to keep this sword.\"\n\nAnd upon New Year's day the barons let make a tournament for to keep\nthe lords together, for the archbishop trusted that God would make\nhim known that should win the sword. So upon New Year's day when the\nservice was done the barons rode to the field.\n\nAnd so it happened that Sir Ector rode to the jousts, and with him rode\nSir Kay, his son, and young Arthur that was his nourished brother.\n[But Sir] Kay had lost his sword, for he had left it at his father's\nlodging, and so he prayed young Arthur to ride for his sword. \"I will\nwith a good will,\" said Arthur, and rode fast after the sword; and when\nhe came home, the lady and all were gone out to see the jousting. Then\nwas Arthur wroth, and said to himself, \"I will ride to the church-yard\nand take the sword with me that sticketh in the stone, for my brother\nSir Kay shall not be without a sword this day.\" And so when he came to\nthe church-yard Arthur alighted, and tied his horse to the stile, and\nso went to the tent, and found no knights there, for they were all at\nthe jousting; and so he handled the sword by the handles, and lightly\nand fiercely he pulled it out of the stone, and took his horse and rode\nhis way till he came to his brother Sir Kay, and delivered him the\nsword. And as soon as Sir Kay saw the sword, he wist [_knew_] well that\nit was the sword of the stone, and so he rode to his father, Sir Ector,\nand said: \"Sir, lo here is the sword of the stone; wherefore I must be\nking of this land.\" When Sir Ector beheld the sword, he returned again\nand came to the church, and there they alighted, all three, and went\ninto the church, and anon he made Sir Kay to swear upon a book how he\ncame to that sword.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Kay, \"by my brother Arthur, for he brought it to me.\"\n\n\"How gate [_got_] you this sword?\" said Sir Ector to Arthur.\n\n\"Sir, I will tell you. When I came home for my brother's sword, I found\nnobody at home for to deliver me his sword, and so I thought my brother\nSir Kay should not be swordless, and so I came thither eagerly and\npulled it out of the stone without any pain.\"\n\n\"Found ye any knights about this sword?\" said Sir Ector.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Arthur.\n\n\"Now,\" said Sir Ector to Arthur, \"I understand that you must be king of\nthis land.\"\n\n\"Wherefore I?\" said Arthur.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Ector, \"for there should never man have drawn out this\nsword but 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.\"\n\n\"That is no mastery,\" said Arthur; and so he put it in the stone.\nTherewith Sir Ector assayed to pull out the sword, and failed.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Now 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.\n\n\"I will well,\" said Arthur, and pulled it out easily. And therewithal\nSir Ector kneeled down to the earth, and Sir Kay.\n\n\"Alas,\" said Arthur, \"mine own dear father and brother, why kneel ye to\nme?\"\n\n\"Nay, nay, my lord Arthur, it is not so: I was never your father nor\nof your blood, but I wote [_know_] well ye are of an higher blood than\nI weened [_thought_] ye were.\" And then Sir Ector told him all. Then\nArthur made great moan when he understood that Sir Ector was not his\nfather.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Ector unto Arthur, \"will ye be my good and gracious lord\nwhen ye are king?\"\n\n\"Else were I to blame,\" said Arthur, \"for ye are the man in the world\nthat I am most beholding [_obliged_] to, and my good lady and mother\nyour wife, that as well as her own hath fostered and kept me. And if\never it be God's will that I be king, as ye say, ye shall desire of me\nwhat I may do, and I shall not fail you.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Ector, \"I will ask no more of you but that you will\nmake my son, your fostered brother Sir Kay seneschal of all your\nlands.\"\n\n\"That shall be done, sir,\" said Arthur, \"and more by the faith of my\nbody; and never man shall have that office but he while that he and I\nlive.\"\n\nTherewithal they went unto the archbishop, and told him how the sword\nwas achieved, and by whom. And upon the twelfth day all the barons\ncame thither for to assay to take the sword. But there afore them all,\nthere might none take it out but only Arthur; wherefore there were many\ngreat lords wroth, and said, \"It was great shame unto them all and the\nrealm to be governed with a boy of no high blood born.\" And so they\nfell out at that time, that it was put off till Candlemas, and then all\nthe barons should meet there again. But always the ten knights were\nordained for to watch the sword both day and night; and so they set a\npavilion over the stone and the sword, and five always watched. And at\nCandlemas many more great lords came thither for to have won the sword,\nbut none of them might prevail. And right as Arthur did at Christmas he\ndid at Candlemas, and pulled out the sword easily, whereof the barons\nwere sore aggrieved, and put it in delay till the high feast of Easter.\nAnd as Arthur sped afore, so did he at Easter; and yet there were some\nof the great lords had indignation that Arthur should be their king,\nand put it off in delay till the feast of Pentecost.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd at the feast of Pentecost all manner of men assayed to pull at the\nsword that would assay, and none might prevail; but Arthur pulled it\nout afore all the lords and commons that were there, wherefore all the\ncommons cried at once: \"We will have Arthur unto our king; we will\nput him no more in delay; for we all see that it is God's will that he\nshall be our king, and who that holdeth against it we will slay him.\"\nAnd therewithal they kneeled down all at once, both rich and poor, and\ncried Arthur mercy, because they had delayed him so long. And Arthur\nforgave it them, and took the sword between both his hands, and offered\nit upon the altar where the archbishop was, and so was he made knight\nof[1] the best man that was there. And so anon was the coronation made,\nand there was he sworn to the lords and commons for to be a true king,\nto stand with true justice from thenceforth all the days of this life.\nAlso then he made all lords that held of the crown to come in, and to\ndo service as they ought to do. And many complaints were made unto King\nArthur of great wrongs that were done since the death of King Uther, of\nmany lands that were bereaved of lords, knights, ladies and gentlemen.\nWherefore King Arthur made the lands to be given again unto them that\nowned them. When this was done that the king had stablished all the\ncountries about London, then he let make Sir Kay seneschal of England;\nand Sir Baudwin of Britain was made constable; and Sir Ulfius was made\nchamberlain; and Sir Brasias was made warden to wait upon the north\nfrom Trent forwards, for it was that time for the most part enemy to\nthe king.\n\n[Footnote 1: \"Of\" was often used for the modern _by_ in Sir Thomas\nMalory's time, and is still so used upon occasion. \"Made knight of the\nbest man\" thus means _made knight by the best man_.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen on a day there came into the court a squire on horseback, leading\na knight before him wounded to the death, and told him there was a\nknight in the forest that had reared up a pavilion by a well [_spring_]\nside, \"and hath slain my master, a good knight, and his name was Miles;\nwherefore I beseech you that my master may be buried, and that some\ngood knight may revenge my master's death.\" Then was in the court great\nnoise of the knight's death, and every man said his advice. Then came\nGriflet, that was but a squire, and he was but young, of the age of\nKing Arthur, so he besought the king, for all his service that he had\ndone, to give him the order of knighthood.\n\n\"Thou art full young and tender of age,\" said King Arthur, \"for to take\nso high an order upon thee.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Griflet, \"I beseech you to make me a knight.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Merlin, \"it were pity to leese [_lose_] Griflet, for he\nwill be a passing good man when he cometh to age, abiding with you the\nterm of his life; and if he adventure his body with yonder knight at\nthe fountain, he shall be in great peril if[2] ever he come again, for\nhe is one of the best knights of the world, and the strongest man of\narms.\"\n\n[Footnote 2: \"If\" here means _whether_. \"In great peril if ever he come\nagain,\" _in great danger of never getting back_.]\n\n\"Well,\" said King Arthur. So, at the desire of Griflet, the king made\nhim knight.\n\n\"Now,\" said King Arthur to Sir Griflet, \"sithen [_since_] that I have\nmade thee knight, thou must grant me a gift.\"\n\n\"What ye will, my lord,\" said Sir Griflet.\n\n\"Thou shalt promise me, by the faith of thy body, that when thou hast\njousted with the knight at the fountain, whether it fall [_happen_]\nthat ye be on foot or on horseback, that in the same manner ye shall\ncome again unto me without any question or making any more debate.\"\n\n\"I will promise you,\" said Griflet, \"as ye desire.\" Then Sir Griflet\ntook his horse in great haste, and dressed his shield, and took a great\nspear in his hand, and so he rode a great gallop till he came to the\nfountain, and thereby he saw a rich pavilion, and thereby under a cloth\nstood a fair horse well saddled and bridled, and on a tree a shield\nof divers colors, and a great spear. Then Sir Griflet smote upon the\nshield with the end of his spear, that the shield fell down to the\nground.\n\nWith that came the knight out of the pavilion, and said, \"Fair knight,\nwhy smote ye down my shield?\"\n\n\"For I will joust with you,\" said Sir Griflet.\n\n\"It were better ye did not,\" said the knight, \"for ye are but young and\nlate made knight, and your might is nothing to mine.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said Sir Griflet, \"I will joust with you.\"\n\n\"That is me loth,\" said the knight, \"but sith [_since_] I must needs, I\nwill dress me thereto; but of whence be ye?\" said the knight.\n\n\"Sir, I am of King Arthur's court.\" So they ran together that Sir\nGriflet's spear all to-shivered [_shivered all to pieces_], and\ntherewithal he smote Sir Griflet through the shield and the left side,\nand brake the spear, that the truncheon stuck in his body, that horse\nand knight fell down.\n\nWhen the knight saw him lie so on the ground he alighted, and was\npassing heavy, for he wend [_weened_] he had slain him, and then he\nunlaced his helm and got him wind, and so with the truncheon he set\nhim on his horse, and betook him to God, and said he had a mighty\nheart, and if he might live he would prove a passing good knight. And\nso Sir Griflet rode to the court, whereas great moan was made for him.\nBut through good leeches [_surgeons_] he was healed and his life saved.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd King Arthur was passing wroth for the hurt of Sir Griflet. And\nby and by he commanded a man of his chamber that his best horse and\narmor \"be without the city or [_before_] to-morrow day.\" Right so in\nthe morning he met with his man and his horse, and so mounted up and\ndressed his shield, and took his spear, and bade his chamberlain tarry\nthere till he came again. And so King Arthur rode but a soft pace till\nit was day, and then was he ware of three churls which chased Merlin,\nand would have slain him. Then King Arthur rode unto them a good pace,\nand cried to them: \"Flee, churls.\" Then were they afraid when they saw\na knight, and fled away. \"O Merlin,\" said King Arthur, \"here hadst thou\nbeen slain for[3] all thy craft, had I not been.\"\n\n[Footnote 3: \"For\" here means _in spite of_; as still used, in certain\nphrases.]\n\n\"Nay,\" said Merlin, \"not so, for I could save myself if I would, and\nthou art more near thy death than I am, for thou goest towards thy\ndeath, and[4] God be not thy friend.\"\n\n[Footnote 4: \"And\" means _if_, here. In later times it becomes\ncontracted into \"an,\" when used in this sense.]\n\nSo, as they went thus talking, they came to the fountain, and the rich\npavilion by it. Then King Arthur was ware where a knight sat all armed\nin a chair. \"Sir knight,\" said King Arthur, \"for what cause abidest\nthou here? That there may no knight ride this way but if he do joust\nwith thee?\" said the king. \"I rede [_advise_] thee leave that custom,\"\nsaid King Arthur.\n\n\"This custom,\" said the knight, \"have I used and will use, maugre [_in\nspite of_] who saith nay; and who is grieved with my custom, let him\namend it that will.\"\n\n\"I will amend it,\" said King Arthur.\n\n\"And I shall defend it,\" said the knight. Anon he took his horse, and\ndressed his shield, and took a spear, and they met so hard either on\nother's shield, that they all to-shivered [_shivered all to pieces_]\ntheir spears. Therewith King Arthur drew his sword. \"Nay, not so,\" said\nthe knight, \"it is fairer that we twain run more together with sharp\nspears.\"\n\n\"I will well,\" said King Arthur, \"and [_if_] I had any mo [_more_]\nspears.\"\n\n\"I have spears enough,\" said the knight. So there came a squire, and\nbrought two good spears, and King Arthur took one and he another. So\nthey spurred their horses, and came together with all their mights,\nthat either brake their spears to their hands. Then Arthur set hand\non his sword. \"Nay,\" said the knight, \"ye shall do better; ye are a\npassing good jouster as ever I met withal, and for the love of the high\norder of knighthood let us joust once again.\"\n\n\"I assent me,\" said King Arthur. Anon there were brought two great\nspears, and every knight gat a spear, and therewith they ran together\nthat Arthur's 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\nwill assay thee, Sir knight, on foot, for I have lost the honor on\nhorseback.\"\n\n\"I will be on horseback,\" said the knight. Then was Arthur wroth, and\ndressed his shield towards him with his sword drawn. When the knight\nsaw that, he alight, for him thought no worship to have a knight at\nsuch avail, he to be on horseback, and he on foot, and so he alight and\ndressed his shield unto Arthur. And there began a strong battle with\nmany great strokes, and so hewed with their swords that the cantels\n[_pieces, of armor or of flesh_] flew in the fields, and much blood\nthey bled both, that all the place there as they fought was over-bled\nwith blood, and thus they fought long, and rested them, and then they\nwent to the battle again, and so hurtled together like two rams that\neither fell to the earth. So at the last they smote together, that both\ntheir swords met even together. But the sword of the knight smote King\nArthur's sword in two pieces, wherefore he was heavy. Then said the\nknight unto Arthur, \"Thou art in my danger whether me list to save thee\nor slay thee, and but thou yield thee as overcome and recreant thou\nshalt die.\"\n\n\"As for death,\" said King Arthur, \"welcome be it when it cometh, but\nas to yield me to thee as recreant, I had liever die than to be so\nshamed.\" And there withal the king leapt unto Pellinore, and took him\nby the middle, and threw him down, and raced[5] off his helm. When the\nknight felt that, he was adread, for he was a passing big man of might,\nand anon he brought King Arthur under him, and raced off his helm, and\nwould have smitten off his head.\n\n[Footnote 5: \"Raced\" off: _violently tore off_.]\n\nTherewithal came Merlin, and said: \"Knight, hold thy hand, for and\n[_if_] thou slay that knight, thou puttest this realm in the greatest\ndamage that ever realm was in, for this knight is a man of more worship\nthan thou wottest of.\"\n\n\"Why, who is he?\" said the knight.\n\n\"It is King Arthur.\"\n\nThen would he have slain him for dread of his wrath, and heaved up his\nsword, and therewith Merlin cast an enchantment on the knight, that he\nfell to the earth in a great sleep. Then Merlin took up King Arthur,\nand rode forth upon the knight's horse. \"Alas,\" said King Arthur, \"what\nhast thou done, Merlin? hast thou slain this good knight by thy crafts?\nThere lived not so worshipful a knight as he was; I had liever than the\nstint [_loss_] of my land a year, that he were on[6] live.\"\n\n[Footnote 6: \"On live\": old form of _alive_.]\n\n\"Care ye not,\" said Merlin, \"for he is wholer than ye, for he is but\non[7] sleep, and will awake within three hours. I told you,\" said\nMerlin, \"what a knight he was; here had ye been slain had I not been.\nAlso, there liveth not a better knight than he is, and he shall do you\nhereafter right good service, and his name is Pellinore, and he shall\nhave two sons, that shall be passing good men.\"\n\n[Footnote 7: \"On sleep,\" _asleep_: as just above \"on live,\" _alive_.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nRight so the king and he departed, and went unto an hermit that was a\ngood man and a great leech. So the hermit searched all his wounds and\ngave him good salves; and the king was there three days, and then were\nhis wounds well amended that he might ride and go. So Merlin and he\ndeparted, and as they rode, Arthur said, \"I have no sword.\"\n\n\"No force,\"[8] said Merlin, \"hereby is a sword that shall be yours, and\n[_if_] I may.\" So they rode till they came to a lake, which was a fair\nwater and a broad, and in the middest of the lake King Arthur was ware\nof an arm clothed in white samite, that held a fair sword in the hand.\n\"Lo,\" said Merlin, \"yonder is that sword that I spake of.\" With that\nthey saw a damsel going upon the lake.\n\n[Footnote 8: \"No force,\" _no matter_.]\n\n\"What damsel is that?\" said Arthur.\n\n\"That is the Lady of the Lake,\" said Merlin; \"and this damsel will come\nto you anon, and then speak ye fair to her that she will give you that\nsword.\" Anon withal came the damsel unto Arthur and saluted him, and he\nher again.\n\n\"Damsel,\" said Arthur, \"what sword is that, that yonder the arm holdeth\nabove the water? I would it were mine, for I have no sword.\"\n\n\"Sir king,\" said the damsel, \"that sword is mine, and if ye will give\nme a gift when I ask it you, ye shall have it.\"\n\n\"By my faith,\" said Arthur, \"I will give you what gift ye will ask.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the damsel, \"go ye into yonder barge and row yourself to\nthe sword, and take it and the scabbard with you, and I will ask my\ngift when I see my time.\"\n\nSo King Arthur and Merlin alighted and tied their horses to two trees,\nand so they went into the ship, and when they came to the sword that\nthe hand held, King Arthur took it up by the handles, and took it with\nhim. And the arm and the hand went under the water; and so they came\nunto the land and rode forth. And then King Arthur saw a rich pavilion:\n\"What signifieth yonder pavilion?\"\n\n[Illustration: _And when they came to the sword that the hand held,\nKing Arthur took it up_]\n\n\"It is the knight's pavilion,\" said Merlin, \"that ye fought with last,\nSir Pellinore, but he is out, he is not there; he hath ado with a\nknight of yours, that hight [_was named_] Egglame, and they have fought\ntogether, but at the last Egglame fled, and else he had been dead, and\nhe hath chased him to Caerleon, and we shall anon meet with him in the\nhigh way.\"\n\n\"It is well said,\" quoth King Arthur, \"now have I a sword, and now will\nI wage battle with him and be avenged on him.\"\n\n\"Sir, ye shall not do so,\" said Merlin, \"for the knight is weary of\nfighting and chasing, so that ye shall have no worship to have ado with\nhim; also he will not lightly be matched of one knight living; and\ntherefore my counsel is that ye let him pass, for he shall do you good\nservice in short time, and his sons after his days. Also ye shall see\nthat day in short space, that ye shall be right glad to give him your\nsister to wife.\"\n\n\"When I see him,\" said King Arthur, \"I will do as ye advise me.\"\n\nThen King Arthur looked upon the sword and liked it passing well.\n\n\"Whether liketh you better,\" said Merlin, \"the sword or the scabbard?\"\n\n\"Me liketh better the sword,\" said King Arthur.\n\n\"Ye are more unwise,\" said Merlin, \"for the scabbard is worth ten of\nthe sword, for while ye have the scabbard upon you ye shall leese\n[_lose_] no blood be ye never so sore wounded, therefore keep well the\nscabbard alway with you.\"\n\nSo they rode on to Caerleon, and by the way they met with Sir\nPellinore. But Merlin had done such a craft that Pellinore saw not\nArthur, and so he passed by without any words.\n\n\"I marvel,\" said the king, \"that the knight would not speak.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Merlin, \"he saw you not, for and [_if_] he had seen you he\nhad not lightly departed.\"\n\nSo they came unto Caerleon, whereof the knights were passing glad; and\nwhen they heard of his adventures, they marvelled that he would jeopard\nhis person so alone. But all men of worship said it was merry to be\nunder such a chieftain that would put his person in adventure as other\npoor knights did.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt befell on a time that King Arthur said to Merlin: \"My barons will\nlet me have no rest, but needs they will have that I take a wife, and I\nwill none take but by thy counsel and by thine advice.\"\n\n\"It is well done,\" said Merlin, \"that ye take a wife, for a man of your\nbounty and nobleness should not be without a wife. Now is there any\nfair lady that ye love better than another?\"\n\n\"Yea,\" said King Arthur, \"I love Guenever, the king's daughter\nLeodegrance[9] of the land of Cameliard, which Leodegrance holdeth in\nhis house the Table Round that ye told he had of my father Uther. And\nthis damsel is the most gentlest and fairest lady that I know living,\nor yet that ever I could find.\"\n\n[Footnote 9: \"The king's daughter Leodegrance,\" _King Leodegrance's\ndaughter_.]\n\nAnd Merlin went forth to King Leodegrance of Cameliard, and told him\nof the desire of the king, that he would have to his wife Guenever his\ndaughter.\n\n\"That is to me,\" said King Leodegrance, \"the best tidings that ever I\nheard, that so worthy a king of prowess and of nobleness will wed my\ndaughter. And as for my lands I will give him, wished I that it might\nplease him, but he hath lands enough, he needeth none; but I shall\nsend him a gift that shall please him much more, for I shall give him\nthe Table Round, the which Utherpendragon gave me; and when it is full\ncomplete, there is an hundred knights and fifty, and as for an hundred\ngood knights I have myself, but I lack fifty, for so many have been\nslain in my days.\"\n\nAnd so King Leodegrance delivered his daughter Guenever unto Merlin,\nand the Table Round with the hundred knights; and so they rode freshly\nwith great royalty, what by water and what by land, till they came that\nnight unto London.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhen King Arthur heard of the coming of Guenever and the hundred\nknights with the Table Round, he made great joy for their coming, and\nsaid openly, \"This fair lady is passing welcome to me, for I loved\nher long, and therefore there is nothing so pleasing to me. And these\nknights with the Round Table please me more than right great riches.\"\n\nThen in all haste the king did ordain for the marriage and the\ncoronation in the most honorablest wise that could be devised.\n\n\"Now Merlin,\" said King Arthur, \"go thou and espy me in all this land\nfifty knights which be of most prowess and worship.\"\n\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 [_seats_] with great\nroyalty and devotion, and there set the eight and twenty knights in\ntheir sieges.\n\nAnd when this was done Merlin said, \"Fair sirs, ye must all arise and\ncome to King Arthur for to do him homage; he will have the better will\nto maintain you.\"\n\nAnd so they arose and did their homage. And when they were gone Merlin\nfound in every siege letters of gold that told the knights' names that\nhad sitten therein. But two sieges were void.\n\n\"What is the cause,\" said King Arthur, \"that there be two places void\nin the sieges?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Merlin, \"there shall no man sit in those places but they\nthat shall be of most worship. But in the Siege Perilous there shall no\nman sit therein but one, and if there be any so hardy to do it he shall\nbe destroyed, and he that shall sit there shall have no fellow.\"\n\nAnd therewith Merlin took King Pellinore by the hand, and, in the\none hand next the two sieges and the Siege Perilous, he said in open\naudience, \"This is your place, and best ye be worthy to sit therein of\nany that is here.\"\n\n\n\n\n                                BOOK II\n\n                       OF SIR LAUNCELOT DU LAKE\n\n\nAnon after that the noble and worthy King Arthur was come from Rome\ninto England, all the knights of the Round Table resorted unto the\nking, and made many jousts and tournaments, and some there were that\nwere good knights, which increased so in arms and worship that they\npassed all their fellows in prowess and noble deeds, and that was well\nproved on many, but especially it was proved on Sir Launcelot du Lake.\nFor in all tournaments and jousts and deeds of arms, both for life and\ndeath, he passed all knights, and at no time he was never overcome, but\nit were by treason or enchantment. Wherefore Queen Guenever had him in\ngreat favor above all other knights, and certainly he loved the queen\nagain above all other ladies and damsels all the days of his life, and\nfor her he did many great deeds of arms, and saved her from the fire\nthrough his noble chivalry. Thus Sir Launcelot rested him a long while\nwith play and game; and then he thought to prove himself in strange\nadventures. Then he bade his brother Sir Lionel to make him ready, \"for\nwe two will seek adventures.\"\n\nSo they mounted upon their horses armed at all points, and rode into\na deep forest; and after they came into a great plain, and then the\nweather was hot about noon, and Sir Launcelot had great list [_desire_]\nto sleep.\n\nThen Sir Lionel espied a great apple tree that stood by an hedge, and\nsaid: \"Brother, yonder is a fair shadow, there may we rest us and our\nhorses.\"\n\n\"It is well said, fair brother,\" said Sir Launcelot; \"for of all this\nseven year I was not so sleepy as I am now.\"\n\nAnd so they there alighted and tied their horses under sundry trees,\nand so Sir Launcelot laid him down under an apple tree, and his helm\nhe laid under his head. And Sir Lionel waked while he slept. So Sir\nLauncelot was asleep passing fast. And in the mean while there came\nthree knights riding, as fast fleeing as ever they might ride. And\nthere followed them three but one knight. And when Sir Lionel saw\nhim, him thought he saw never so great a knight nor so well faring a\nman, neither so well apparelled unto all rights. So within a while\nthis strong knight had overtaken one of these knights, and there he\nsmote him to the cold earth that he lay still. And then he rode unto\nthe second knight, and smote him so that man and horse fell down. And\nthen straight to the third knight he rode, and he smote him behind his\nhorse's tail a spear's length. And then he alighted down, and reined\nhis horse on the bridle, and bound all the three knights fast with\nthe reins of their own bridles. When Sir Lionel saw him do thus, he\nthought to assay him, and made him ready, and stilly and privily he\ntook his horse, and thought not for to awake Sir Launcelot. And when\nhe was mounted upon his horse he overtook this strong knight and bade\nhim turn: and the other smote Sir Lionel so hard that horse and man\nhe bare to the earth, and so he alighted down and bound him fast, and\nthrew him overthwart his own horse, and so he served them all four, and\nrode with them away to his own castle. And when he came there, he made\nunarm them, and beat them with thorns all naked, and after put them in\na deep prison where there were many more knights that made great dolor.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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,\n\"knowest thou in this country any adventures that be here nigh hand?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the forester, \"this country know I well, and hereby within\nthis mile is a strong manor, and well diked, 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 basin of copper and laton [_brass_], and strike upon that basin\nwith the butt of thy spear thrice, and soon after thou shalt hear new\ntidings, and else hast thou the fairest grace that many a year had ever\nknight that passed through this forest.\"\n\n\"Gramercy,\" [_thanks_] said Sir Ector, and departed and came to the\ntree, and saw many fair shields, and among them he saw his brother's\nshield, Sir Lionel, and many more that he knew that were his fellows\nof the Round Table, the which grieved his heart, and he promised to\nrevenge his brother. Then anon Sir Ector beat on the basin as he were\nwood [_crazy_], and then he gave his horse drink at the ford: and\nthere came a knight behind him and bade him come out of the water and\nmake him ready; and Sir Ector anon turned him shortly, and in fewter\ncast[10] his spear, and smote the other knight a great buffet that his\nhorse turned twice about.\n\n[Footnote 10: \"In fewter cast his spear,\" _in rest placed his spear_.]\n\n\"This was well done,\" said the strong knight, \"and knightly thou hast\nstricken me:\" and therewith he rushed his horse on Sir Ector and caught\nhim under his right arm, and bare him clean out of the saddle, and rode\nwith him away into his own hall, and threw him down in the midst of the\nfloor. The name of this knight was Sir Turquine. Then he said unto Sir\nEctor, \"For thou hast done this day more unto me than any knight did\nthese twelve years, now will I grant thee thy life, so thou wilt be\nsworn to be my prisoner all thy life-days.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Sir Ector, \"that will I never promise thee, but that I will\ndo mine advantage.\"\n\n\"That me repenteth,\" said Sir Turquine.\n\nAnd then he made to unarm him, and beat him with thorns all naked,\nand after put him down in a deep dungeon, where he knew many of his\nfellows. But when Sir Ector saw Sir Lionel, then made he great sorrow.\n\n\"Alas, brother,\" said Sir Ector, \"where is my brother Sir Launcelot?\"\n\n\"Fair brother, I left him on sleep when that I from him went, under an\napple tree, and what is become of him I cannot tell you.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said the knights, \"but Sir Launcelot help us we may never be\ndelivered, for we know now no knight that is able to match our master\nTurquine.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNow leave we these knights prisoners, and speak we of Sir Launcelot\ndu Lake 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 squares, betwixt them and the sun, and\nthe queens 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.\n\n\"We shall not strive,\" said Morgan le Fay that was King Arthur's\nsister; \"I shall put an enchantment upon him that he shall not awake in\nsix hours, and then I will lead him away unto my castle, and when he is\nsurely within my hold I shall take the enchantment from him, and then\nlet him choose which of us he will have for his love.\"\n\nSo this enchantment was cast upon Sir Launcelot, and then they laid\nhim upon his shield, and bare him so on horseback betwixt two knights,\nand brought him unto the castle Chariot, and there they laid him in a\nchamber cold, and at night they sent unto him a fair damsel with his\nsupper ready dight. By that the enchantment was past, and when she came\nshe saluted him, and asked him what cheer?\n\n\"I cannot say, fair damsel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for I wot not how I\ncame into this castle but it be by an enchantment.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"ye must make good cheer, and if ye be such a knight\nas is said ye be, I shall tell you more to-morn [_to-morrow_] by prime\n[_the first hour_] of the day.\"\n\n\"Gramercy, fair damsel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"of your good will I\nrequire you.\"\n\nAnd so she departed. And there he lay all that night without comfort of\nanybody.\n\nAnd on the morn early came these four queens, passingly well beseen,\nall they bidding him good morn, and he them again.\n\n\"Sir knight,\" the four queens said, \"thou must understand thou art\nour prisoner, and we here know thee well, that thou art Sir Launcelot\ndu Lake, King Ban's son. And truly we understand your worthiness that\nthou art the noblest knight living; and therefore thee behoveth now\nto choose one of us four. I am the Queen Morgan le Fay, Queen of the\nland of Gore, and here is the Queen of Northgalis, and the Queen of\nEastland, and the Queen of the Out Isles; now choose ye one of us which\nthou wilt have to thy love, for thou mayst not choose or else in this\nprison to die.\"\n\n\"This is an hard case,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that either I must die\nor else choose one of you, yet had I liever to die in this prison\nwith worship, than to have one of you to my love maugre my head. And\ntherefore ye be answered, for I will have none of you, for ye be false\nenchantresses.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the queens, \"is this your answer, that you will refuse us?\"\n\n\"Yea, upon my life,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"refused ye be of me.\"\n\nSo they departed, and left him there alone that made great sorrow.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nRight so at noon came the damsel to him, and brought him his dinner,\nand asked him what cheer.\n\n\"Truly, fair damsel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"in all my life-days never so\nill.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"that me repenteth; but and ye will be ruled by me,\nI shall help you out of this distress, and ye shall have no shame nor\nvillany, so that ye hold me a promise.\"\n\n\"Fair damsel, that I will grant you, and sore I am afeared of these\nqueen's witches, for they have destroyed many a good knight.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"that is sooth, and for the renown and bounty they\nhear of you, they would have your love, and, sir, they say that your\nname is Sir Launcelot du Lake, the flower of all the knights that been\nliving, and they been passing wroth with you that ye have refused them;\nbut, sir, and ye would promise me for to help my father on Tuesday\nnext coming, that hath made a tournament between him and the King of\nNorthgalis; for the Tuesday last past my father lost the field through\nthree knights of King Arthur's court, and if ye will be there upon\nTuesday next coming and help my father, to-morrow or [_ere_] prime, by\nthe grace of God, I shall deliver you clean.\"\n\n\"Fair maiden,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"tell me what is your father's name,\nand then shall I give you an answer.\"\n\n\"Sir knight,\" said the damsel, \"my father is King Bagdemagus, that was\nfoully rebuked at the last tournament.\"\n\n\"I know your father well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for a noble king and a\ngood knight, and by the faith of my body, ye shall have my body ready\nto do your father and you service at that day.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the damsel, \"gramercy, and to-morrow await that ye be ready\nbetimes, and I shall deliver you; and take you your armor and your\nhorse, shield, and spear; and hereby within these ten miles is an abbey\nof white monks, and there I pray you to abide, and thither shall I\nbring my father unto you.\"\n\n\"All this shall be done,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"as I am a true knight.\"\n\nAnd so she departed, and came on the morrow early and found him ready.\nThen she brought him out of twelve locks, and brought him unto his\narmor. And when he was all armed and arrayed, she brought him unto his\nown horse, and lightly he saddled him, and took a great spear in his\nhand, and so rode forth, and said, \"Fair damsel, I shall not fail you,\nby the grace of God.\"\n\nAnd so he rode into a great forest all that day, and in no wise could\nhe find any highway, and so the night fell on him, and then was he ware\nin a slade [_glade_] of a pavilion of red sendall.[11] \"By my faith,\"\nsaid Sir Launcelot, \"in that pavilion will I lodge all this night.\"\nAnd so there he alighted down, and tied his horse to the pavilion, and\nthere he unarmed him, and found there a rich bed and laid him therein,\nand anon he fell on sleep.\n\n[Footnote 11: \"Sendall,\" _a kind of silk_.]\n\nSo thus within a while the night passed and the day appeared, and then\nSir Launcelot armed him and mounted upon his horse, and took his leave,\nand they showed him the way towards the abbey, and thither they rode\nwithin the space of two hours.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAs soon as Sir Launcelot came within the abbey yard, King Bagdemagus'\ndaughter heard a great horse go on the pavement. And then she arose and\nwent unto a window, and there she saw that it was Sir Launcelot, and\nanon she made men hastily to go to him, which took his horse and led\nhim into a stable, and himself was led into a fair chamber, and there\nhe unarmed him, and the lady sent to him a long gown, and anon she\ncame herself. And then she made Sir Launcelot passing good cheer, and\nshe said he was the knight in the world that was most welcome to her.\nThen she in all the haste sent for her father King Bagdemagus, that was\nwithin twelve miles of that abbey, and before even he came with a fair\nfellowship of knights with him. And when the king was alighted from\nhis horse, he went straight unto Sir Launcelot's chamber, and there\nfound his daughter, and then the king embraced Sir Launcelot in his\narms, and either made other good cheer. Anon Sir Launcelot made his\ncomplaint unto the king how he was betrayed, and how his brother Sir\nLionel was departed from him he wist not whither, and how his daughter\nhad delivered him out of prison, \"wherefore I shall while I live do her\nservice and all her friends and kindred.\"\n\n\"Then am I sure of your help,\" said the king, \"now on Tuesday next\ncoming?\"\n\n\"Ye, sir,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I shall not fail you, for so have I\npromised unto my lady, your daughter. As I hear say that the tournament\nshall be within this three mile of this abbey, ye shall send unto\nme three knights of yours such as ye trust, and look that the three\nknights have all white shields, and I also, and no painture on the\nshields, and we four will come out of a little wood in the midst of\nboth parties, and we shall fall in the front of our enemies and grieve\nthem that we may; and thus shall I not be known what knight I am.\" So\nthey took their rest that night, and this was on the Sunday. And so the\nking departed, and sent unto Sir Launcelot three knights, with the four\nwhite shields.\n\nAnd on the Tuesday they lodged them in a little leaved wood beside\nwhere the tournament should be. And there were scaffolds that lords\nand 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 [_placed\nin rest_] their spears, and came together with a great dash, and\nthere were slain of knights, at the first encounter, twelve of King\nBagdemagus' party, and six of the King of Northgalis' party, and King\nBagdemagus' party was far set aback.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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.\n\n\"Yonder is a shrewd guest,\" said Sir Mador de la Porte, \"therefore have\nhere once at him.\"\n\nSo they encountered, and Sir Launcelot bare him down horse and man, so\nthat his shoulder went out of joint.\n\n\"Now befalleth it to me to joust,\" said Mordred, \"for Sir Mador hath a\nsore fall.\"\n\nSir Launcelot was ware of him, and gat a great spear in his hand, and\nmet 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\nflew over his horse's tail, that his helm went into the earth a foot\nand more, that nigh his neck was broken, and there he lay long in a\nswoon. Then came in Sir Gahalantine with a spear, and Launcelot against\nhim, with all their strength that they might drive, that both their\nspears to-brast [_burst to pieces_] even to their hands, and then they\nflung out with their swords, and gave many a grim stroke. Then was Sir\nLauncelot wroth out of measure, and then he smote Sir Gahalantine on\nthe helm, that his nose burst out on blood, and ears and mouth both,\nand therewith his head hung low. And therewith his horse ran away with\nhim, and he fell down to the earth.\n\nAnon therewithal Sir Launcelot gat a great spear in his hand, and, or\n[_ere_] ever that great spear brake, he bare down to the earth sixteen\nknights, some horse and man, and some the man and not the horse, and\nthere was none but that he hit surely. He bare none arms [_no device\nto be known by_] that day. And then he gat another great spear, and\nsmote down twelve knights, and the most part of them never throve\nafter. And then the knights of the King of Northgalis would joust no\nmore, and there the prize was given unto King Bagdemagus. So either\nparty departed unto his own place, and Sir Launcelot rode forth with\nKing Bagdemagus unto his castle, and there he had passing good cheer\nboth with the king and with his daughter, and they proffered him great\ngifts. And on the morn he took his leave, and told King Bagdemagus that\nhe would go and seek his brother Sir Lionel, that went from him when\nthat he slept. So he took his horse, and betaught [_commended_] them\nall to God. And there he said unto the king's daughter, \"If ye have\nneed any time of my service, I pray you let me have knowledge, and I\nshall not fail you, as I am a 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.\n\n\"Fair damsel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"know ye in this country any\nadventures?\"\n\n\"Sir knight,\" said that damsel, \"here are adventures near hand, and\n[_if_] thou durst prove them.\"\n\n\"Why should I not prove adventures?\" said Sir Launcelot; \"for that\ncause came I hither.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said she, \"thou seemest well to be a good knight, and if thou\ndare meet with a good knight, I shall bring thee where is the best\nknight and the mightiest that ever thou foundest, so thou wilt tell me\nwhat is thy name, and what knight thou art.\"\n\n\"Damsel, as for to tell thee my name, I take no great force: truly, my\nname is Sir Launcelot du Lake.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"_I am Sir Launcelot du Lake, King Ban's son of Benwick,\nand knight of the Round Table_\"]\n\n\"Sir, thou beseemest well, here be adventures by that fall for thee,\nfor hereby dwelleth a knight that will not be overmatched for no man\nthat I know, unless ye overmatch him, and his name is Sir Turquine.\nAnd, as I understand, he hath in his prison of Arthur's court good\nknights threescore and four that he hath won with his own hands. But\nwhen ye have done that day's work ye shall promise me as ye are a true\nknight for to go with me, and to help me and other damsels that are\ndistressed daily with a false knight.\"\n\n\"All your intent, damsel, and desire I will fulfil, so ye will bring me\nunto this knight.\"\n\n\"Now, fair knight, come on your way.\"\n\nAnd so she brought him unto the ford, and unto the tree where hung the\nbasin. So Sir Launcelot let his horse drink, and then he beat on the\nbasin with the butt of his spear so hard with all his might till the\nbottom fell out, and long he did so, but he saw nothing. Then he rode\nalong the gates of that manor nigh half an hour. And then was he ware\nof a great knight that drove an horse afore him, and overthwart the\nhorse there lay an armed knight bound. And ever as they came near and\nnear, Sir Launcelot thought he should know him; then Sir Launcelot was\nware that it was Sir Gaheris, Gawaine's brother, a knight of the Table\nRound.\n\n\"Now, fair damsel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I see yonder cometh a knight\nfast 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\nI shall deliver all the prisoners that he hath out of danger, for I am\nsure that he hath two brethren of mine prisoners with him.\"\n\nBy that time that either had seen other they gripped their spears unto\nthem.\n\n\"Now, fair knight,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"put that wounded knight off\nthe horse, and let him rest awhile, and let us two prove our strengths.\nFor as it is informed me, thou doest and hast done great despite and\nshame unto knights of the Round Table, and therefore now defend thee.\"\n\n\"And [_if_] thou be of the Table Round,\" said Turquine, \"I defy thee\nand all thy fellowship.\"\n\n\"That is overmuch said,\" said Sir Launcelot.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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' backs brast under\nthem, and the knights were both astonied, and as soon as they might\navoid their horses they took their shields afore them, and drew out\ntheir swords, and came together eagerly, and either gave other many\nstrong strokes, for there might neither shields nor harness hold their\nstrokes. And so within a while they had both grimly wounds, and bled\npassing grievously. Thus they fared two hours or more, trasing and\nrasing [_feinting and thrusting_] either other where they might hit\nany bare place. Then at the last they were breathless both, and stood\nleaning on their swords.\n\n\"Now, fellow,\" said Sir Turquine, \"hold thy hand awhile, and tell me\nwhat I shall ask thee.\"\n\n\"Say on.\"\n\nThen Turquine said, \"Thou art the biggest man that ever I met withal,\nand the best breathed, and like one knight that I hate above all other\nknights; so be it that thou be not he I will lightly accord with thee,\nand for thy love I will deliver all the prisoners that I have, that is\nthreescore and four, so thou wilt tell me thy name. And thou and I will\nbe fellows together, and never to fail the while that I live.\"\n\n\"It is well said,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"but since it is so that I may\nhave thy friendship, what knight is he that thou so hatest above all\nother?\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Sir Turquine, \"his name is Launcelot du Lake, for he slew\nmy brother Sir Carados at the Dolorous Tower, which was one of the best\nknights then living, and therefore him I except of all knights, for\nand [_if_] I may once meet with him, that one of us shall make an end\nof another, and do that I make a vow. And for Sir Launcelot's sake I\nhave slain an hundred good knights, and as many I have utterly maimed,\nthat never after they might help themselves, and many have died in my\nprison, and yet I have threescore and four, and all shall be delivered,\nso that thou wilt tell me thy name, and so it be that thou be not Sir\nLauncelot.\"\n\n\"Now see I well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that such a man I might be I\nmight have peace, and such a man I might be there should be between\nus two mortal war; and now, sir knight, at thy request, I will that\nthou wit and know that I am Sir Launcelot du Lake, King Ban's son of\nBenwick, and knight of the Round Table. And now I defy thee do thy\nbest.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Sir Turquine, \"Launcelot, thou art unto me most welcome, as\never was any knight, for we shall never depart till the one of us be\ndead.\"\n\nAnd then hurtled they together as two wild bulls, rashing and lashing\nwith their shields and swords, that sometime they fell both on their\nnoses. Thus they fought still two hours and more, and never would rest,\nand Sir Turquine gave Sir Launcelot many wounds that all the ground\nthere as they fought was all besprinkled with blood.\n\nThen at last Sir Turquine waxed very faint, and gave somewhat back, and\nbare his shield full low for weariness. That soon espied Sir Launcelot,\nand then leaped upon him fiercely as a lion, and got him by the banner\nof his helmet, and so he plucked him down on his knees, and anon he\nrased [_tore off_] his helm, and then he smote his neck asunder.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSo on the third day he rode over a long bridge, and there started\nupon him suddenly a passing foul churl, and he smote his horse on the\nnose that he turned about, and asked him why he rode over that bridge\nwithout his license.\n\n\"Why should I not ride this way?\" said Sir Launcelot. \"I may not ride\nbeside.\"\n\n\"Thou shalt not choose,\" said the churl, and lashed at him with a great\nclub shod with iron. Then Sir Launcelot drew a sword, and put the\nstroke aback, and clave his head unto the breast. At the end of the\nbridge was a fair village, and all the people men and women cried on\nSir Launcelot, and said, \"A worse deed didst thou never for thyself,\nfor thou hast slain the chief porter of our castle.\"\n\nSir Launcelot let them say what they would, and straight he went into\nthe castle; and when he came into the castle he alighted, and tied his\nhorse to a ring on the wall; and there he saw a fair green court, and\nthither he dressed himself, for there him thought was a fair place to\nfight in. So he looked about, and saw much people in doors and windows,\nthat said, \"Fair knight, thou art unhappy.\"\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 [_crazy_], for fear of the horrible strokes,\nand Sir Launcelot after him with all his might, and smote him on the\nshoulder, and clave him to the middle. Then Sir Launcelot went into the\nhall, and there came afore him threescore ladies and damsels, and all\nkneeled unto him, and thanked God and him of their deliverance.\n\n\"For, sir,\" said they, \"the most part of us have been here this seven\nyear their prisoners, and we have worked all manner of silk works for\nour meat, and we are all great gentlewomen born, and blessed be the\ntime, knight, that ever thou wert born; for thou hast done the most\nworship that ever did knight in the world, that will we bear record,\nand we all pray you to tell us your name, that we may tell our friends\nwho delivered us out of prison.\"\n\n\"Fair damsels,\" he said, \"my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake.\"\n\n\"Ah, sir,\" said they all, \"well mayest thou be he, for else save\nyourself, as we deemed, there might never knight have the better of\nthese two giants, for many fair knights have assayed it, and here have\nended, and many times have we wished after you, and these two giants\ndread never knight but you.\"\n\n\"Now may ye say,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"unto your friends, how and who\nhath delivered you, and greet them all from me, and if that I come\nin any of your marches [_boundaries_] show me such cheer as ye have\ncause; and what treasure that there is in this castle I give it you for\na reward for your grievance: and the lord that is the owner of this\ncastle I would that he received it as is right.\"\n\n\"Fair sir,\" said they, \"the name of this castle is Tintagil and a duke\nowned it some time that had wedded fair Igraine, and after wedded her\nUtherpendragon.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I understand to whom this castle\nbelongeth.\"\n\nAnd so he departed from them and betaught [_commended_] them unto God.\nAnd then 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 curtilage [_enclosure_], and therein he found an old gentlewoman\nthat lodged him with a good will, and there he had good cheer for him\nand his horse. And when time was, his host brought him into a fair\ngarret over the gate to his bed. There Sir Launcelot unarmed him, and\nset his harness by him, and went to bed, and anon he fell on sleep.\nSo soon after there came one on horseback, and knocked at the gate in\ngreat haste. And when Sir Launcelot heard this he arose up, and looked\nout at the window, and saw by the moonlight three knights came riding\nafter one man, and all three lashed on him at once with swords, and\nthat one knight turned on them knightly again and defended him.\n\n\"Truly,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"yonder one knight shall I help, for it\nwere shame for me to see three knights on one, and if he be slain I am\npartner of his death.\"\n\nAnd therewith he took his harness and went out at a window by a sheet\ndown to the four knights, and then Sir Launcelot said on high [_in a\nloud voice_], \"Turn you knights unto me, and leave your fighting with\nthat knight.\"\n\nAnd then they all three left Sir Kay, and turned unto Sir Launcelot,\nand there began great battle, for they alighted all three, and struck\nmany great strokes at Sir Launcelot, and assailed him on every side.\nThen Sir Kay dressed him for to have holpen Sir Launcelot.\n\n\"Nay, sir,\" said he, \"I will none of your help, therefore as ye will\nhave my help let me alone with them.\"\n\nSir Kay for the pleasure of the knight suffered him to do his will,\nand so stood aside. And then anon within six strokes Sir Launcelot had\nstricken them to the earth.\n\nAnd then they all three cried, \"Sir knight, we yield us unto you as man\nof might matchless.\"\n\n\"As to that,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I will not take your yielding unto\nme, but so that ye yield you unto Sir Kay the seneschal; on that\ncovenant I will save your lives and else not.\"\n\n\"Fair knight,\" said they, \"that were we loath to do; for as for Sir Kay\nwe chased him hither, and had overcome him had not ye been; therefore\nto yield us unto him it were no reason.\"\n\n\"Well, as to that,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"advise you well, for ye may\nchoose whether ye will die or live, for and [_if_] ye be yielden it\nshall be unto Sir Kay.\"\n\n\"Fair knight,\" then they said, \"in saving our lives we will do as thou\ncommandest us.\"\n\n\"Then shall ye,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"on Whitsunday next coming go\nunto the court of King Arthur, and there shall ye yield you unto Queen\nGuenever, and put you all three in her grace and mercy, and say that\nSir Kay sent you thither to be her prisoners.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" they said, \"it shall be done by the faith of our bodies, and we\nbe living.\"\n\nAnd there they swore, every knight upon his sword. And so Sir Launcelot\nsuffered them so to depart. And then Sir Launcelot knocked at the gate\nwith the pommel of his sword, and with that came his host, and in they\nentered, Sir Kay and he.\n\n\"Sir,\" said his host, \"I wend ye had been in your bed.\"\n\n\"So I was,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"but I arose and leaped out at my\nwindow for to help an old fellow of mine.\"\n\nAnd so when they came nigh the light Sir Kay knew well that it was Sir\nLauncelot, and therewith he kneeled down and thanked him of all his\nkindness that he hath holpen him twice from the death.\n\n\"Sir,\" 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.\"\n\nSo when Sir Kay was unarmed he asked after meat, so there was meat\nfetched him, and he ate strongly. And when he had supped they went\nto their beds, and were lodged together in one bed. On the morn Sir\nLauncelot arose early, and left Sir Kay sleeping: and Sir Launcelot\ntook Sir Kay's armor and his shield and armed him: and so he went to\nthe stable and took his horse, and took his leave of his host, and so\nhe departed. Then soon after arose Sir Kay and missed Sir Launcelot:\nand then he espied that he had his armor and his horse.\n\n\"Now, by my faith, I know well that he will grieve some of King\nArthur's court: for on him knights will be bold, and deem that it is I,\nand that will beguile them; and because of his armor and shield, I am\nsure that I shall ride in peace.\" And then soon after departed Sir Kay,\nand thanked his host.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNow let us speak of Sir Launcelot, that rode a great while in a deep\nforest, where he saw a black brachet [_small hound_], seeking in\nmanner as it had been in the fealty [_track_] of an hurt deer, and\ntherewith he rode after the brachet; and he saw lie on the ground a\nlarge fealty of blood, and then Sir Launcelot rode after, and ever\nthe brachet looked behind her. And so she went through a great marish\n[_marsh_], and ever Sir Launcelot followed; and then was he ware of\nan old manor, and thither ran the brachet, and so over the bridge.\nSo Sir Launcelot rode over the bridge, that was old and feeble. And\nwhen he came into the midst of a great hall, there saw he lie a dead\nknight, that was a seemly man, and that brachet licked his wounds. And\ntherewith came out a lady weeping and wringing her hands, and she said,\n\"O knight, too much sorrow hast thou brought me.\"\n\n\"Why say ye so?\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I did never this knight no harm,\nfor hither by track of blood this brachet brought me; and therefore,\nfair lady, be not displeased with me, for I am full sore aggrieved of\nyour grievance.\"\n\n\"Truly, sir,\" she said, \"I trow it be not ye that have slain my\nhusband, for he that did that deed is sore wounded, and he is never\nlikely to recover, that shall I ensure him.\"\n\n\"What was your husband's name?\" said Sir Launcelot.\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"his name was called Sir Gilbert, one of the best\nknights of the world, and he that hath slain him I know not his name.\"\n\n\"Now God send you better comfort,\" said Sir Launcelot.\n\nAnd so he departed and went into the forest again, and there he met\nwith a damsel, the which knew him well, and she said aloud, \"Well be\nye found, my lord; and now I require thee on thy knighthood help my\nbrother that is sore wounded, and never stinteth bleeding, for this\nday fought he with Sir Gilbert and slew him in plain battle, and there\nwas my brother sore wounded, and there is a lady a sorceress that\ndwelleth in a castle here beside, and this day she told me my brother's\nwounds should never be whole till I could find a knight that would go\ninto the Chapel Perilous, and there he should find a sword and a bloody\ncloth that the wounded knight was lapped in, and a piece of that cloth\nand sword should heal my brother's wounds, so that his wounds were\nsearched [_touched_] with the sword and the cloth.\"\n\n\"This is a marvellous thing,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"but what is your\nbrother's name?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"his name is Sir Meliot de Logres.\"\n\n\"That me repenteth,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for he is a fellow of the\nTable Round, and to his help I will do my power.\"\n\n\"Then, sir,\" said she, \"follow even this highway, and it will bring you\nunto the 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\nRight so Sir Launcelot departed, and when he came unto the Chapel\nPerilous he alighted down, and tied his horse to a little gate. And as\nsoon as he was within the church-yard he saw on the front of the chapel\nmany fair rich shields turned up so down [_upside down_], and many of\nthe shields Sir Launcelot had seen knights bear beforehand. With that\nhe saw by him stand there thirty great knights, more by a yard than\nany man that ever he had seen, and all those grinned and gnashed at\nSir Launcelot. And when he saw their countenance he dread him sore,\nand so put his shield afore him, and took his sword in his hand ready\nunto battle; and they were all armed in black harness, ready with their\nshields and their swords drawn. And when Sir Launcelot would have gone\nthroughout them, they scattered on every side of him, and gave him the\nway, and therewith he waxed all bold and entered into the chapel, and\nthen he saw no light but a dim lamp burning, and then was he ware of a\ncorpse covered with a cloth of silk. Then Sir Launcelot stooped down\nand cut a piece away of that cloth, and then it fared under him as\nthe earth had quaked a little; therewithal he feared. And then he saw\na fair sword lie by the dead knight, and that he gat in his hand and\nhied him out of the chapel. Anon as ever he was in the chapel-yard all\nthe knights spake to him with a grimly voice, and said, \"Knight, Sir\nLauncelot, lay that sword from thee, or else thou shalt die.\"\n\n\"Whether I live or die,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"will no great word get it\nagain, therefore fight for it and ye list.\"\n\nThen right so he passed throughout them, and beyond the chapel-yard\nthere met him a fair damsel, and said, \"Sir Launcelot, leave that sword\nbehind thee, or thou wilt die for it.\"\n\n\"I leave it not,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for no entreaties.\"\n\n\"No,\" said she, \"and thou didst leave that sword, Queen Guenever should\nye never see.\"\n\n\"Then were I a fool and I would leave this sword,\" said Launcelot.\n\n\"Now, gentle knight,\" said the damsel, \"I require thee to kiss me but\nonce.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that God me forbid.\"\n\n\"Well, sir,\" said she, \"and thou hadst kissed me thy life-days had\nbeen done, but now alas,\" she said, \"I have lost all my labor, for I\nordained this chapel for thy sake. And, Sir Launcelot, now I tell thee,\nI have loved thee this seven year. But since I may not have [thee]\nalive, I had kept no more joy in this world but to have [thee] dead.\nThen would I have balmed [thee] and preserved [thee], and so have kept\n[thee] my life-days, and daily I should have kissed thee.\"\n\n\"Ye say well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"God preserve me from your subtle\ncrafts.\"\n\nAnd therewithal he took his horse and so departed from her. And when\nSir Launcelot was departed she took such sorrow that she died within a\nfourteen night [_fortnight_], and her name was Hellawes the sorceress,\nlady of the castle Nigramous. Anon Sir Launcelot met with the damsel,\nSir Meliot's 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\nme!\" Anon Sir Launcelot leaped unto him, and touched his wounds with\nSir Gilbert's sword, and then he wiped his wounds with a part of the\nbloody cloth that Sir Gilbert was wrapped in, and anon a wholer man\nin his life was he never. And then there was great joy between them,\nand they made Sir Launcelot all the cheer that they might, and so on\nthe morn Sir Launcelot took his leave, and bade Sir Meliot hie him\nto the court of my lord Arthur, \"for it draweth nigh to the feast of\nPentecost, and there, by the grace of God, ye shall find me.\" And\ntherewith they departed.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSir Launcelot came home two days afore the feast of Pentecost. And\nKing Arthur and all the court were full glad of his coming. And when\nSir Gawaine, Sir Ewaine, Sir Sagramor, and Sir Ector de Maris saw Sir\nLauncelot in Sir Kay's armor, then they wist well it was he that smote\nthem down all with one spear. Then there was laughing and smiling among\nthem. And ever now and then came all the knights home that Sir Turquine\nhad taken prisoners, and they all honored and worshipped Sir Launcelot.\nWhen Sir Gaheris heard them speak, he said: \"I saw all the battle, from\nthe beginning to the ending.\"\n\nAnd there he told King Arthur all how it was, and how Sir Turquine was\nthe strongest knight that ever he saw except Sir Launcelot; there were\nmany knights bare him record, nigh threescore. Then Sir Kay told the\nking how Sir Launcelot had rescued him when he was in danger to have\nbeen slain, and how \"he made the knights to yield them to me, and not\nto him.\" And there they were, all three, and bare record. \"And,\" said\nSir Kay, \"because Sir Launcelot took my harness, and left me his, I\nrode in good peace, and no man would have to do with me.\" Then anon\ntherewithal came the three knights that fought with Sir Launcelot at\nthe long bridge, and there they yielded them unto Sir Kay, and Sir Kay\nforsook them, and said he fought never with them; \"but I shall ease\nyour hearts,\" said Sir Kay, \"yonder is Sir Launcelot that overcame\nyou.\" When they understood that, they were glad. And then Sir Meliot\nde Logres came home, and told King Arthur how Sir Launcelot had saved\nhim from the death. And all his deeds were known, how four queens,\nsorceresses, had him in prison, and how he was delivered by King\nBagdemagus' daughter. Also there were told all the great deeds of arms\nthat Sir Launcelot did betwixt the two kings, that is to say, the King\nof Northgalis and King Bagdemagus. All the truth Sir Gahalatine did\ntell, and Sir Mador de la Porte, and Sir Mordred, for they were at that\nsame tournament. Then came in the lady that knew Sir Launcelot when\nthat he wounded Sir Belleus at the pavilion. And there at the request\nof Sir Launcelot, Sir Belleus was made knight of the Round Table.\n\nAnd so at that time Sir Launcelot had the greatest name of any knight\nof the world, and most he was honored of high and low.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[On a day, that might be a matter of two years before that feast of\nPentecost whereof it will be told in the Book of Sir Tristram, it\nhappened that Queen Guenever was angered with Sir Launcelot, yet truly\nfor no fault of his, but only because a certain enchantress had wrought\nthat Sir Launcelot seemed to have shamed his knighthood.\n\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,\nlook thou never abide in my court, and not so hardy, thou false traitor\nknight that thou art, that ever thou come in my sight.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Launcelot: and therewith he took such an heartly\nsorrow at her words that he fell down to the floor in a swoon. And\ntherewithal Queen Guenever departed. And when Sir Launcelot awoke of\nhis swoon he leaped out at a bay window into a garden, and there with\nthorns he was all to-scratched in his visage and his body, and so he\nran forth he wist not whither, and was wild wood [_insane_] as ever was\nman.\n\n\"Wit ye well,\" said dame Elaine[12] to Sir Bors, \"I would lose my life\nfor him rather than he should be hurt; but alas, I cast me never for to\nsee him; and the chief causer of this is dame Guenever.\"\n\n[Footnote 12: This is not Elaine, the maid of Astolat--whom we shall\nmeet hereafter--but another Elaine.]\n\n\"Madam,\" said dame Brisen, the which had made the enchantment before\nbetwixt 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.\"\n\nThen wept dame Elaine, and so did Sir Bors de Ganis, and so they\ndeparted; and Sir Bors rode straight unto Queen Guenever, and when she\nsaw Sir Bors she wept as she were wood.\n\n\"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's\nkin saw you. For now have ye lost the best knight of our blood, and\nhe that was all our leader and our succor. And I dare say and make\nit good, that all kings, Christian nor heathen, may not find such a\nknight, for to speak of his nobleness and courtesy with his beauty and\nhis gentleness. Alas,\" said Sir Bors, \"what shall we do that be of his\nblood?\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Ector de Maris.\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Lionel.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd when the queen heard them say so, she fell to the ground in a\ndeadly sound [_swoon_]; and then Sir Bors took her, and [roused] her,\nand when she was come to herself again she kneeled afore the three\nknights, and held up both her hands, and besought them to seek him, and\nnot to spare for no goods but that he be found, \"for I wot well he is\nout of his mind.\" And Sir Bors, Sir Ector, Sir Lionel, departed from\nthe queen, for they might not abide no longer for sorrow: and then the\nqueen sent them treasure enough for their expenses, and so they took\ntheir horses and their armor, and departed. And then they rode from\ncountry to country, in forests and in wildernesses and in wastes, and\never they laid watch as well both at forests and at all manner of men\nas they rode, to hearken and to inquire after him, as he that was a\nnaked man in his shirt, with a sword in his hand. And thus they rode\nwell nigh a quarter of a year, endlong and overthwart,[13] in many\nplaces, forests and wildernesses, and oftentimes were evil lodged for\nhis sake, and yet for all their labor and seeking could they never hear\nword of him. And wit ye well these three knights were passing sorry.\n\n[Footnote 13: \"Endlong and overthwart,\" _lengthways and erossways_ of\nthe land.]\n\nThen Sir Gawaine, Sir Uwaine, Sir Sagramor le Desirous, Sir Agloval,\nand Sir Percival de Galis, took upon them by the great desire of King\nArthur, and in especial by the queen, to seek throughout all England,\nWales, and Scotland, to find Sir Launcelot. And with them rode eighteen\nknights more to bear them fellowship. And wit ye well they lacked no\nmanner of spending: and so were they three and twenty knights.\n\nAnd thus as these noble knights rode together, they by one assent\ndeparted, and then they rode by two, by three, and by four, and by\nfive; and ever they assigned where they should meet.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd now leave we a little of Sir Ector and Sir Percival, and speak we\nof Sir Launcelot, that suffered and endured many sharp showers, which\never ran wild wood, from place to place, and lived by fruit and such\nas he might get, and drank water, two years; and other clothing had he\nbut little, save his shirt and his breeches. And thus, as Sir Launcelot\nwandered here and there, he came into a fair meadow where he found a\npavilion, and there upon a tree hung a white shield and two swords\nhung thereby, and two spears there leaned against a tree; and when Sir\nLauncelot saw the swords, anon he leaped to the one sword, and took it\nin his hand, and drew it out, and then he lashed at the shield that all\nthe meadow rang of the dints that he gave with such a noise as ten\nknights had fought together. Then there came forth a dwarf, and leaped\nunto Sir Launcelot, and would have had the sword out of his hand;\nand then Sir Launcelot took him by both the shoulders and threw him\nto the ground upon his neck, that he had almost broken his neck; and\ntherewithal the dwarf cried for help. Then came forth a likely knight,\nand well apparelled in scarlet, furred with miniver. And anon as he saw\nSir Launcelot, he deemed that he should be out of his wit: and then\nhe said with fair speech, \"Good man, lay down that sword, for, as me\nseemeth, thou hast more need of sleep, and of warm clothes, than to\nwield that sword.\"\n\n[Illustration: _And lived by fruit and such as he might get_]\n\n\"As for that,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"come not too nigh; for, and thou\ndo, wit thou well I will slay thee.\"\n\nAnd when the knight of the pavilion saw that, he started backward\nwithin the pavilion. And then the dwarf armed him lightly, and so the\nknight thought by force and might to take the sword from Sir Launcelot,\nand so he came stepping out, and when Sir Launcelot saw him come so\nall armed with his sword in his hand, then Sir Launcelot flew to him\nwith such a might and hit him upon the helm such a buffet that the\nstroke troubled his brains, and therewith the sword brake in three. And\nthe knight fell to the earth as he had been dead, the blood bursting\nout of his mouth, nose, and ears. And then Sir Launcelot ran into the\npavilion, and rushed even into the warm bed.\n\nThen the knight awaked out of his swoon, and looked up weakly with his\neyes, and then he asked where was that mad man that had given him such\na buffet? \"for such a buffet had I never of man's hand.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the dwarf, \"it is not worship to hurt him, for he is a man\nout of his wit, and doubt ye not he hath been a man of great worship,\nand for some heartly sorrow that he hath taken he is fallen mad; and\nme seemeth he resembleth much unto Sir Launcelot; for him I saw at the\ngreat tournament beside Lonazep.\"\n\n\"Jesu defend,\" said that knight, \"that ever that noble knight Sir\nLauncelot should be in such a plight. But whatsoever he be, harm will I\nnone do him.\"\n\nAnd this knight's name was Sir Bliant. Then he said unto the dwarf,\n\"Go thou in all haste on horseback unto my brother Sir Seliaunt, that\nis at the Castle Blanche, and tell him of mine adventure, and bid him\nbring with him an horse-litter and then will we bear this knight unto\nmy castle.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSo the dwarf rode fast, and came again, and brought Sir Seliaunt\nwith him, and six men with an horse-litter; and so they took up the\nfeather-bed with Sir Launcelot, and so carried all with them to the\nCastle Blanche, and he never wakened until 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 Sir Launcelot was there more than a year and a half.\n\nThen upon a day this lord of that castle, Sir Bliant, took his arms on\nhorseback with a spear to seek adventures, and as he rode in a forest\nthere met him two knights adventurous; the one was Sir Breuse sans\nPitie, and his brother Sir Bertlot. And these two ran both at once\nupon Sir Bliant, and brake both their spears upon his body, and then\nthey drew out their swords and made a great battle and fought long\ntogether; but at the last Sir Bliant was sore wounded, and felt himself\nfaint, and then he fled on horseback towards his castle. And as they\ncame hurling under the castle, where Sir Launcelot lay in a window and\nsaw two knights laid upon Sir Bliant with their swords, and when Sir\nLauncelot saw that, yet as wood [_crazy_] as he was, he was sorry for\nhis lord Sir Bliant; and then Sir Launcelot brake his chains from his\nlegs.\n\nAnd so Sir Launcelot ran out at a postern, and there he met with the\ntwo knights that chased Sir Bliant, and there he pulled down Bertlot\nwith his bare hands from his horse, and therewithal he writhed his\nsword out of his hands, and so he leaped unto Sir Breuse, and gave him\nsuch a buffet upon the head that he tumbled backward over his horse's\ncrupper. And when Sir Bertlot saw his brother have such a fall, he gat\na spear in his hand, and would have run Sir Launcelot through. That saw\nSir Bliant, and struck off the hand of Sir Bertlot; and then Sir Breuse\nand Sir Bertlot gat their horses and fled away. When Sir Seliaunt came,\nand saw what Sir Launcelot had done for his brother, then he thanked\nGod, and so did his brother, that ever they did him any good. But when\nSir Bliant saw that Sir Launcelot was hurt with the breaking of his\nchains, then he was sorry that he had bound him. \"Bind him no more,\"\nsaid Sir Seliaunt, \"for he is happy and gracious.\" Then they made great\njoy of Sir Launcelot, and they bound him no more; and so he abode\nthere half a year and more. And in a morning early Sir Launcelot was\nware where came a great boar, with many hounds nigh him; but the boar\nwas so big that there might no hounds tear him, and the hunters came\nafter blowing their horns both on horseback and on foot; and at the\nlast Sir Launcelot was ware where one of them alighted and tied his\nhorse to a tree, and leaned his spear against the tree.\n\nSo came Sir Launcelot and found the horse bound to a tree, and a\nspear leaning against a tree, and a sword tied unto the saddle-bow.\nAnd then Sir Launcelot leaped into the saddle, and gat that spear in\nhis hand, and then he rode after the boar; and then Sir Launcelot was\nware where the boar set his back to a tree, fast by an hermitage. Then\nSir Launcelot ran at the boar with his spear. And therewith the boar\nturned him nimbly, and rove [_gashed_] out the lungs and the heart of\nthe horse, so that Sir Launcelot fell to the earth, and or ever Sir\nLauncelot might get from the horse, the boar rove him on the brawn of\nthe thigh, up to the hough bone. And then Sir Launcelot was wroth,\nand up he gat upon his feet, and drew his sword, and he smote off the\nboar's head at one stroke. And therewithal came out the hermit, and\nsaw him have such a wound; then the hermit came to Sir Launcelot and\nbemoaned him, and would have had him home unto his hermitage. But when\nSir Launcelot heard him speak, he was so wroth with his wound that he\nran upon the hermit to have slain him, and the hermit ran away, and\nwhen Sir Launcelot might not overget him he threw his sword after him,\nfor Sir Launcelot might go no farther for bleeding. Then the hermit\nturned again, and asked Sir Launcelot how he was hurt.\n\n\"Fellow,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"this boar hath bitten me sore.\"\n\n\"Then come with me,\" said the hermit, \"and I shall heal you.\"\n\n\"Go thy way,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"and deal not with me.\"\n\nThen the hermit ran his way, and there he met with a good knight with\nmany men.\n\n\"Sir,\" said the hermit, \"here is fast by my place the goodliest man\nthat ever I saw, and he is sore wounded with a boar, and yet he hath\nslain the boar. But well I wot and he be not holpen, that goodly man\nshall die of that wound, and that were great pity.\"\n\nThen that knight, at the desire of the hermit, gat a cart, and in that\ncart that knight put the boar and Sir Launcelot, for Sir Launcelot\nwas so feeble that they might right easily deal with him. And so\nSir Launcelot was brought unto the hermitage, and there the hermit\nhealed him of his wound. But the hermit might not find Sir Launcelot's\nsustenance, and so he impaired and waxed feeble, both of his body and\nof his wit, for the default of his sustenance, and waxed more wood than\nhe was aforehand. And then, upon a day, Sir Launcelot ran his way into\nthe forest; and by adventure came into the city of Corbin, where dame\nElaine was.\n\nAnd so when he was entered into the town, he ran through the town\nto the castle; and then all the young men of the city ran after Sir\nLauncelot, and there they threw turfs at him, and gave him many sad\nstrokes; and as Sir Launcelot might reach any of them, he threw them\nso that they would never more come in his hands, for of some he brake\ntheir legs, and some their arms, and so fled into the castle. And then\ncame out knights and squires for to rescue Sir Launcelot, and when\nthey 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, they\nall deemed that he had been a man of worship. And then they ordained\nclothes unto 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 were few or none that would bring meat to his hands.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSo it befell that King Pelles had a nephew whose name was Castor, and\nhe desired of the king his uncle for to be made knight; and so at\nthe request of this Castor, the king made him knight at the feast of\nCandlemas. And when Castor was made knight, that same day he gave many\ngowns; and so Sir Castor sent for the fool, that was Sir Launcelot, and\nwhen [Sir Launcelot] saw his time, he went into the garden and there\nlaid him down by a well and slept. And in the afternoon dame Elaine and\nher maidens went into the garden for to play them; and as they roamed\nup and down, one of dame Elaine's maidens espied where lay a goodly man\nby the well sleeping, and anon showed him to dame Elaine.\n\n\"Peace,\" said dame Elaine, \"and say no word.\"\n\nAnd then she brought dame Elaine where he lay. And when that she\nbeheld him, anon she fell in remembrance of him, and knew him verily\nfor Sir Launcelot, and therewithal she fell on weeping so heartily that\nshe sank even to the earth. And when she had thus wept a great while,\nthen she arose and called her maidens, and said she was sick. And so\nshe went out of the garden, and she went straight to her father, and\nthere she took him apart by himself, and then she said, \"O father, now\nhave I need of your help, and but if that ye help me, farewell my good\ndays for ever.\"\n\n\"What is that, daughter?\" said King Pelles.\n\n\"Sir,\" she said, \"thus is it: in your garden I went for to sport, and\nthere by the well I found Sir Launcelot du Lake sleeping.\"\n\n\"I may not believe that,\" said King Pelles.\n\n\"Sir,\" she said, \"truly he is there, and me seemeth he should be\ndistract out of his wit.\"\n\n\"Then hold you still,\" said the king, \"and let me deal.\"\n\nThen the king called to him such as he most trusted, four persons, and\ndame Elaine his daughter. And when they came to the well and beheld Sir\nLauncelot, anon dame Brisen knew him.\n\n\"Sir,\" said dame Brisen, \"we must be wise how we deal with him, for\nthis knight is out of his mind, and if we awake him rudely, what he\nwill do we all know not. But ye shall abide, and I shall throw such an\nenchantment upon him that he shall not awake within the space of an\nhour.\"\n\nAnd so she did. Then within a little while after King Pelles commanded\nthat all people should avoid [_leave_], that none should be in that\nway there as the king would come. And so when this was done, these four\nmen and these ladies laid hand on Sir Launcelot. And so they bare him\ninto a tower, and so into the chamber where as was the [Holy Grail],\nand by force Sir Launcelot was laid by that holy vessel; and then there\ncame an holy man and uncovered the vessel, and so by miracle, and by\nvirtue of that holy vessel, Sir Launcelot was all healed and recovered.\nAnd when he was awaked, he groaned, and sighed sore, and complained\ngreatly that he was passing sore.\n\nAnd when Sir Launcelot saw King Pelles and dame Elaine, he waxed\nashamed, and thus he said, \"O good Lord Jesu, how came I here? for\nGod's sake, my lord, let me wit how I came here.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said dame Elaine, \"into this country ye came like a mad man all\nout of your wit, and here ye have been kept as a fool, and no creature\nhere knew what ye were till that by fortune a maid of mine brought\nme unto you where as ye lay sleeping by a well side, and anon as I\nverily beheld you I knew you; and then I told my father, and so ye were\nbrought before this holy vessel, and by the virtue of it thus were ye\nhealed.\"\n\n\"O Jesu, mercy!\" said Sir Launcelot, \"if this be sooth, how many be\nthere that know of my woodness?\"\n\n\"So God me help,\" said dame Elaine, \"no moe [_more_] but my father and\nI and dame Brisen.\"\n\n\"Now for Christ's love,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"keep it secret, and let\nno man know it in the world, for I am sore ashamed that I have been\nthus miscarried, for I am banished out of the country of Logris for\never, that is for to say the country of England.\"\n\nAnd so Sir Launcelot lay more than a fortnight, or ever that he might\nstir for soreness.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd then after this King Pelles with ten knights, and dame Elaine and\ntwenty ladies, rode unto the castle of Bliant, that stood in an island\nenclosed in iron, with a fair water, deep and large. And when they\nwere there Sir Launcelot let call it the Joyous Isle, and there was he\ncalled none otherwise but Le Chevalier Mal Fait, _the knight that hath\ntrespassed_. Then Sir Launcelot let make him a shield all of sable, and\na queen crowned in the midst all of silver, and a knight, clean armed,\nkneeling before her; and every day once, for any mirths that all the\nladies might make him, he would once every day look towards the realm\nof Logris where King Arthur and Queen Guenever were, and then would\nhe fall upon weeping as though his heart should to-brast [_burst to\npieces_]. So it fell that time that Sir Launcelot heard of a jousting\nfast by his castle, within three leagues. Then he called unto him a\ndwarf, and he bade him go unto that jousting, \"and, or ever the knights\ndepart, look thou make there a cry in the hearing of all the knights,\nthat there is one knight in the Joyous Isle, that is the castle Bliant,\nand say that his name is Le Chevalier Mal Fait, that will joust against\nknights that will come; and who that putteth that knight to the worst\nshall have a fair maid and a gerfalcon.\"\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's days\none knight that did so much deeds of arms as Sir Launcelot did three\ndays together. For he had the better of all the five hundred knights,\nand there was not one slain of them. And after that Sir Launcelot made\nthem all a great feast. And in the meanwhile came Sir Percival de Galis\nand Sir Ector de Maris under that castle that was called the Joyous\nIsle. And as they beheld that gay castle they would have gone to that\ncastle, but they might not for the broad water, and bridge could they\nfind none. Then they saw on the other side a lady with a sperhawk in\nher hand, and Sir Percival called unto her, and asked that lady who was\nin that castle.\n\n\"Fair knight,\" she said, \"here within this castle is the fairest lady\nin this land, and her name is Elaine. Also we have in this castle the\nfairest knight and the mightiest man that is, I dare say, living, and\nhe calleth himself Le Chevalier Mal Fait.\"\n\n\"How came he into these marches?\" said Sir Percival.\n\n\"Truly,\" said the damsel, \"he came into this country like a mad man,\nwith dogs and boys chasing him through the city of Corbin; and by the\nHoly Grail he was brought into his wit again, but he will not do battle\nwith no knight but by underne [_nine in the morning_] or by noon. And\nif ye list to come into the castle, ye must ride unto the farther side\nof the castle, and there shall ye find a vessel that will bear you and\nyour horse.\"\n\nThen they departed and came unto the vessel. And then Sir Percival\nalighted and said unto Sir Ector de Maris, \"Ye shall abide me here,\nuntil I know what manner of knight he is, for it were a great shame\nunto us, inasmuch as he is but one knight, and we should both do battle\nwith him.\"\n\n\"Do as ye list,\" said Sir Ector de Maris, \"here shall I abide you until\nthat I hear of you again.\"\n\nThen Sir Percival passed the water; and when he came unto the castle\ngate, he said to the porter, \"Go thou unto the good knight within the\ncastle, and tell him that here is come an errant knight to joust with\nhim.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the porter, \"ride ye within the castle, and there shall ye\nfind a common place for jousting, that lords and ladies may behold you.\"\n\nSo anon as Sir Launcelot had warning, he was soon ready. And there Sir\nPercival and Sir Launcelot encountered with such a might, and their\nspears were so rude, that both the horses and the knights fell to the\nground. And then they avoided their horses, and drew out their swords,\nand hewed away cantels [_pieces_] of their shields, and hurled together\nwith their shields like two wild boars, and either wounded other\npassing sore. And at the last Sir Percival spake first, when they had\nfought more than two hours.\n\n\"Fair knight,\" said Sir Percival, \"I require thee tell me thy name, for\nI met never with such a knight as ye are.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"my name is Le Chevalier Mal Fait. Now tell\nme your name,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I require you, as ye are a gentle\nknight.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Sir Percival, \"my name is Sir Percival de Galis, which is\nbrother unto the good knight Sir Lamorak de Galis, and King Pellinore\nwas our father, and Sir Agloval is my brother.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Launcelot, \"what have I done, to fight with you that\nare a knight of the Round Table, that some time was your fellow in King\nArthur's court?\"\n\nAnd therewithal Sir Launcelot kneeled down upon his knees, and threw\naway his shield and his sword from him. When Sir Percival saw him do\nso, he marvelled what he meant. And then thus he said, \"Sir knight,\nwhatsoever thou be, I require thee upon the high order of knighthood,\ntell me thy true name.\"\n\nThen he said, \"Truly my name is Sir Launcelot du Lake, King Ban's son\nof Benoy.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Percival, \"what have I done! I was sent by the queen\nfor to seek you, and so I have sought you nigh this two year; and\nyonder is Sir Ector de Maris your brother abideth me on the other side\nof the yonder water. Now I pray you forgive me mine offence that I have\nhere done.\"\n\n\"It is soon forgiven,\" said Sir Launcelot.\n\nThen Sir Percival sent for Sir Ector de Maris. And when Sir Launcelot\nhad a sight of him, he ran unto him and took him in his arms, and then\nSir Ector kneeled down and either wept upon other, that all had pity\nto behold them. Then came dame Elaine, and she there made them great\ncheer as might lie in her power; and there she told Sir Ector and Sir\nPercival how and in what manner Sir Launcelot came into that country,\nand how he was healed. And there it was known how long Sir Launcelot\nwas with Sir Bliant and with Sir Seliaunt, and how he first met with\nthem, and how he departed from them because of a boar; and how the\nhermit healed Sir Launcelot of his great wound, and how that he came to\nCorbin.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Ector, \"I am your own brother, and ye are the man in\nthe world that I love most, and, if I understood that it were your\ndisworship, ye may right well understand that I would never counsel\nyou thereto; but King Arthur and all his knights, and in especial\nQueen Guenever, made such dole and sorrow that it was marvel to hear\nand see. And ye must remember the great worship and renown that ye be\nof, how that ye have been more spoken of than any other knight that\nis now living, for there is none that beareth the name now but ye and\nSir Tristram. Therefore, brother,\" said Sir Ector, \"make you ready to\nride unto the court with us, and I dare well say there was never knight\nbetter welcome unto the court than ye. And I wot well and can make it\ngood,\" said Sir Ector, \"it hath cost my lady the queen twenty thousand\npound the seeking of you.\"\n\n\"Well, brother,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I will do after your counsel and\nride with you.\"\n\nSo then they took their horses, and made them ready, and took their\nleave of King Pelles and of dame Elaine; and when Sir Launcelot should\ndepart, dame Elaine made great sorrow.\n\nThen they departed, and within five days' journey they came to Camelot,\nwhich is called, in English, Winchester. And when Sir Launcelot was\ncome among them, the king and all the knights made great joy of him;\nand there Sir Percival de Galis and Sir Ector de Maris began to tell\nof all the adventures, how Sir Launcelot had been out of his mind all\nthe time of his absence, how he called himself Le Chevalier Mal Fait,\nas much as to say the knight that had trespassed, and in three days Sir\nLauncelot smote down five hundred knights. And ever as Sir Ector and\nSir Percival told these tales of Sir Launcelot, Queen Guenever wept as\nshe would have died; then afterward the queen made great joy.\n\n\"O Jesu!\" said King Arthur, \"I marvel for what cause ye, Sir Launcelot,\nwent out of your mind?\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"if I did any folly, I have found that I\nsought.\"\n\nAnd so the king held him still, and spake no more; but all Sir\nLauncelot's kin knew for whom he went out of his mind. And then there\nwere great feasts made and great joy, and many great lords and ladies,\nwhen they heard that Sir Launcelot was come to the court again, made\ngreat joy.\n\n\n\n\n                               BOOK III\n\n                        OF SIR GARETH OF ORKNEY\n\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 King-Kenadon, upon\nthe sands that marched [_bordered_] nigh Wales. So ever the king had a\ncustom that at the feast of Pentecost, in especial afore other feasts\nin the year, he would not go that day to meat until he had heard or\nseen of a great marvel. And for that custom all manner of strange\nadventures came before Arthur as at that feast before all other feasts.\nAnd so Sir Gawaine, a little tofore noon of the day of Pentecost,\nespied at a window three men upon horseback and a dwarf on foot. And so\nthe three men alighted, and the dwarf kept their horses, and one of the\nthree men was higher than the other twain by a foot and a half. Then\nSir Gawaine went unto the king and said, \"Sir, go to your meat, for\nhere at hand come strange adventures.\"\n\nSo Arthur went unto his meat with many other kings. And there were\nall the knights of the Round Table, save those that were prisoners or\nslain at a rencounter. Then at the high feast evermore they should\nbe fulfilled the whole number of an hundred and fifty, for then was\nthe Round Table fully accomplished. Right so came into the hall two\nmen well beseen and richly, and upon their shoulders there leaned the\ngoodliest young man and the fairest that ever they all saw, and he\nwas large and long, and broad in the shoulders, and well visaged, and\nthe fairest and the largest handed that ever man saw, but he fared as\nthough he might not go nor bear himself but if he leaned upon their\nshoulders. Anon as Arthur saw him, there was made peace [_silence_]\nand room, and right so they went with him unto the high dais, without\nsaying of any words. Then this big 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\nyou to give me three gifts, and they shall not be unreasonably asked,\nbut that ye may worshipfully and honorably grant them me, and to you\nno great hurt nor loss. And as for the first gift I will ask now, and\nthe other two gifts I will ask this day twelvemonth wheresoever ye hold\nyour high feast.\"\n\n\"Now ask,\" said Arthur, \"and ye shall have your asking.\"\n\n\"Now, sir, this is my petition for this feast, that ye will give me\nmeat and drink sufficiently for this twelvemonth, and at that day I\nwill ask mine other two gifts.\"\n\n\"My fair son,\" said Arthur, \"ask better, I counsel thee, for this is\nbut a simple asking, for my heart giveth me to thee greatly that thou\nart come of men of worship, and greatly my conceit faileth me but thou\nshalt prove a man of right great worship.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said he, \"thereof be as it may, I have asked that I will ask.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the king, \"ye shall have meat and drink enough, I never\ndefended that none, neither my friend nor my foe. But what is thy name\nI would wit?\"\n\n\"I cannot tell you,\" said he.\n\n\"That is marvel,\" said the king, \"that thou knowest not thy name, and\nthou art the goodliest young man that ever I saw.\"\n\nThen the king betook him to Sir Kay, the steward, and charged him that\nhe should give him of all manner of meats and drinks of the best, and\nalso that he had all manner of finding as though he were a lord's son.\n\n\"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,\nfor and he had come of gentlemen he would have asked of you horse and\narmor, 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 Fairhands, and\ninto the kitchen I shall bring him, and there he shall have fat browis\n[_broth_] every day, that he shall be as fat by the twelvemonth's end\nas a pork hog.\"\n\nRight so the two men departed, and left him to Sir Kay, that scorned\nhim and mocked him.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThereat was Sir Gawaine wroth, and in especial Sir Launcelot bade Sir\nKay leave his mocking, \"for I dare lay my head he shall prove a man of\ngreat worship.\"\n\n\"Let be,\" said Sir Kay, \"it may not be, by no reason, for as he is, so\nhath he asked.\"\n\n\"Beware,\" said Sir Launcelot; \"so ye gave the good knight Brewnor, Sir\nDinadan's brother, a name, and ye called him La Cote Mal Taile, and\nthat turned you to anger afterward.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said Sir Kay, \"this shall never prove none such; for\nSir Brewnor desired ever worship, and this desireth bread and drink,\nand broth; upon pain of my life he was fostered up in some abbey, and,\nhowsoever it was, they failed meat and drink, and so hither he is come\nfor his sustenance.\"\n\nAnd so Sir Kay bade get him a place and sit down to meat, so Beaumains\nwent to the hall door, and set him down among boys and lads, and there\nhe eat sadly. And then Sir Launcelot after meat bade him come to his\nchamber, and there he should have meat and drink enough. And so did\nSir 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\nSir Launcelot did was of his great gentleness and courtesy. So thus he\nwas put into the kitchen, and lay nightly as the boys of the kitchen\ndid. And so he endured all that twelvemonth, and never displeased\nman nor child, but always he was meek and mild. But ever when he saw\nany jousting of knights, that would he see and he might. And ever\nSir Launcelot would give him gold to spend, and clothes, and so did\nSir Gawaine. And where were any masteries done thereat would he be,\nand there might none cast the bar or stone to him by two yards. Then\nwould Sir Kay say, \"How like you my boy of the kitchen?\" So it passed\non till the feast of Pentecost, and at that time the king held it at\nCaerleon, in the most royallest wise that might be, like as yearly\nhe did. But the king would eat no meat on the Whitsunday till he had\nheard of some adventure. And then came there a squire to the king, and\nsaid, \"Sir, ye may go to your meat, for here cometh a damsel with some\nstrange adventure.\" Then was the king glad, and set him down. Right so\nthere came in a damsel, and saluted the king, and prayed him for succor.\n\n\"For whom?\" said the king: \"what is the adventure?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"I have a lady of great worship and renown, and she is\nbesieged with a tyrant, so that she may not go out of her castle, and\nbecause that here in your court are called the noblest knights of the\nworld, I come unto you and pray you for succor.\"\n\n\"What call ye your lady, and where dwelleth she, and who is he and what\nis his name that hath besieged her?\"\n\n\"Sir king,\" said she, \"as for my lady's name, that shall not be known\nfor me as at this time; but I let you wit she is a lady of great\nworship, and of great lands. And as for the tyrant that besiegeth her\nand destroyeth her land, he is called the Red Knight of the Red Lawns.\"\n\n\"I know him not,\" said the king.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"I know him well, for he is one of the\nperilous knights of the world; men say that he hath seven men's\nstrength, and from him I escaped once full hard with my life.\"\n\n\"Fair damsel,\" said the king, \"there be knights here that would do\ntheir power to rescue your lady, but because ye will not tell her name\nnor where she dwelleth, therefore none of my knights that be here now\nshall go with you by my will.\"\n\n\"Then must I speak further,\" said the damsel.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen with these words came before the king Beaumains, while the damsel\nwas there; and thus he said: \"Sir king, God thank you, I have been this\ntwelve months in your kitchen, and have had my full sustenance, and now\nI will ask my two gifts that be behind.\"\n\n\"Ask upon my peril,\" said the king.\n\n\"Sir, these shall be my two gifts: first, that ye will grant me to have\nthis adventure of the damsel, for it belongeth to me.\"\n\n\"Thou shalt have it,\" said the king; \"I grant it thee.\"\n\n\"Then, sir, this is now the other gift: that ye shall bid Sir Launcelot\ndu Lake to make me a knight, for of him I will be made knight, and else\nof none; and when I am passed, I pray you let him ride after me, and\nmake me knight when I require him.\"\n\n\"All this shall be done,\" said the king.\n\n\"Fie on thee,\" said the damsel; \"shall I have none but one that is your\nkitchen page?\"\n\nThen was she wroth, and took her horse and departed. And with that\nthere came one to Beaumains, and told him that his horse and armor\nwas come for him, and there was a dwarf come with all things that him\nneeded in the richest manner. Thereat all the court had much marvel\nfrom whence came all that gear. So when he was armed, there was none\nbut few so goodly a man as he was. And right so he came into the hall,\nand took his leave of King Arthur and of Sir Gawaine, and of Sir\nLauncelot, and prayed him that he would hie after him; and so departed\nand rode after the damsel.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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 openly in the hall: \"I will ride after my boy of the kitchen, for\nto wit [_know_] whether he will know me for his better.\"\n\nSir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine said, \"Yet abide at home.\"\n\nSo Sir Kay made him ready, and took his horse and his spear, and rode\nafter him. And right as Beaumains overtook the damsel, right so came\nSir Kay, and said, \"Beaumains, what sir, know ye not me?\"\n\nThen he turned his horse, and knew it was Sir Kay, that had done him\nall the despite as ye have heard afore.\n\n\"Yea,\" said Beaumains, \"I know you for an ungentle knight of the court,\nand therefore beware of me.\"\n\nTherewith Sir Kay put his spear in the rest and ran straight upon him,\nand Beaumains came as fast upon him with his sword in his hand; and so\nhe put away his spear with his sword, and with a foin [_feint_] thrust\nhim through the side, that Sir Kay fell down as he had been dead, and\nhe alighted down and took Sir Kay's shield and his spear, and started\nupon his own horse, and rode his way. All that saw Sir Launcelot, and\nso did the damsel. And then he bade his dwarf start upon Sir Kay's\nhorse, and so he did. By that Sir Launcelot was come. Then he proffered\nSir Launcelot to joust, and either made them ready, and came together\nso fiercely that either bare down other to the earth, and sore were\nthey bruised. Then Sir Launcelot arose and helped him from his horse.\nAnd then Beaumains threw his shield from him, and proffered to fight\nwith Sir Launcelot on foot, and so they rushed together like boars,\ntracing, racing, and foining, to the mountenance [_amount_] of an hour,\nand Sir Launcelot felt him so big that he marvelled of his strength,\nfor he fought more like a giant than a knight, and that his fighting\nwas durable and passing perilous. For Sir Launcelot had so much ado\nwith him that he dreaded himself to be shamed, and said, \"Beaumains,\nfight not so sore, your quarrel and mine is not so great but we may\nleave off.\"\n\n\"Truly, that is truth,\" said Beaumains, \"but it doth me good to feel\nyour might, and yet, my lord, I showed not the uttermost.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for I promise you by the faith of my body\nI had as much to do as I might to save myself from you unshamed, and\ntherefore have ye no doubt of none earthly knight.\"\n\n\"Hope ye so that I may any while stand a proved knight?\" said Beaumains.\n\n\"Yea,\" said Launcelot, \"do ye as ye have done, and I shall be your\nwarrant.\"\n\n\"Then, I pray you,\" said Beaumains, \"give me the order of knighthood.\"\n\n\"Then must ye tell me your name,\" said Launcelot, \"and of what kin ye\nbe born.\"\n\n\"Sir, so that ye will not discover me I shall,\" said Beaumains.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"and that I promise you by the faith of my\nbody, until it be openly known.\"\n\n\"Then, Sir,\" he said, \"my name is Gareth, and brother unto Sir Gawaine,\nof father and mother.\"\n\n\"Ah! Sir,\" said Launcelot, \"I am more gladder of you than I was, for\never me thought ye should be of great blood, and that ye came not to\nthe court neither for meat nor for drink.\"\n\nAnd then Sir Launcelot gave him the order of knighthood. And then Sir\nGareth prayed him for to depart, and let him go. So Sir Launcelot\ndeparted from him and came to Sir Kay, and made him to be borne home\nupon his shield, and so he was healed hard with the life, and all men\nscorned Sir Kay, and in especial Sir Gawaine and Sir Launcelot said it\nwas not his part to rebuke [any] young man, for full little knew he of\nwhat birth he is come, and for what cause he came to this court. And so\nwe leave off Sir Kay and turn we unto Beaumains. When he had overtaken\nthe damsel anon she said, \"What dost thou here? thou stinkest all of\nthe kitchen, thy clothes be foul of the grease and tallow that thou\ngainedst in King Arthur's kitchen; weenest thou,\" said she, \"that I\nallow thee for yonder knight that thou killedst? Nay truly, for thou\nslewest him unhappily and cowardly, therefore return again, kitchen\npage. I know thee well, for Sir Kay named thee Beaumains. What art thou\nbut a turner of broaches and a washer of dishes!\"\n\n\"Damsel,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"say to me what ye list, I will not go\nfrom you whatsoever ye say, for I have undertaken of King Arthur for to\nachieve your adventure, and I shall finish it to the end, or I shall\ndie therefor.\"\n\n\"Fie on thee, kitchen knave. Wilt thou finish mine adventure? thou\nshalt anon be met withal, that thou wouldest not, for all the broth\nthat ever thou suppest, once look him in the face.\"\n\n\"I shall assay,\" said Beaumains. So as they thus rode in the wood,\nthere came a man flying all that he might.\n\n\"Whither wilt thou?\" said Beaumains.\n\n\"O lord,\" said he, \"help me, for hereby in a slade are six thieves\nwhich have taken my lord and bound him, and I am afraid lest they will\nslay him.\"\n\n\"Bring me thither,\" said Sir Beaumains.\n\nAnd so they rode together till they came there as the knight was bound;\nand then he rode unto the thieves, and struck one at the first stroke\nto death, and then another, and at the third stroke he slew the third\nthief; and then the other three fled, and he rode after and overtook\nthem, and then those three thieves turned again and hard assailed Sir\nBeaumains; but at the last he slew them; and then returned and unbound\nthe knight. And the knight thanked him, and prayed him to ride with him\nto his castle there a little beside, and he should worshipfully reward\nhim for his good deeds.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"I will no reward have; I was this day made\nknight of the noble Sir Launcelot, and therefore I will have no reward,\nbut God reward me. And also I must follow this damsel.\"\n\nAnd when he came nigh her, she bade him ride from her, \"for thou\nsmellest all of the kitchen. Weenest thou that I have joy of thee? for\nall this deed that thou hast done is but mishappened thee. But thou\nshalt see a sight that shall make thee to turn again, and that lightly.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Then all the next day] this Beaumains rode with that lady till\neven-song time, and ever she chid him and would not rest. And then they\ncame to a black lawn, and there was a black hawthorn, and thereon hung\na black banner, and on the other side there hung a black shield, and by\nit stood a black spear and a long, and a great black horse covered with\nsilk, and a black stone fast by it.\n\nThere sat a knight all armed in black harness, and his name was the\nKnight of the Black Lawns. When the damsel saw the black knight, she\nbade Sir Beaumains flee down the valley, for his horse was not saddled.\n\n\"I thank you,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"for always ye will have me a\ncoward.\"\n\nWith that the black knight came to the damsel, and said, \"Fair damsel,\nhave ye brought this knight from King Arthur's court to be your\nchampion?\"\n\n\"Nay, fair knight,\" said she, \"this is but a kitchen knave, that hath\nbeen fed in King Arthur's kitchen for alms.\"\n\n\"Wherefore cometh he in such array?\" said the knight: \"it is great\nshame that he beareth you company.\"\n\n\"Sir, I cannot be delivered of him,\" said the damsel, \"for with me he\nrideth maugre [_in spite of_] mine head; would to God ye would put him\nfrom me, or else to slay him if ye may, for he is an unhappy knave, and\nunhappy hath he done to-day through misadventure; for I saw him slay\ntwo knights at the passage of the water, and other deeds he did before\nright marvellous, and all through unhappiness.\"\n\n\"That marvelleth me,\" said the black knight, \"that any man the which is\nof worship will have to do with him.\"\n\n\"Sir, they know him not,\" said the damsel, \"and because he rideth with\nme they think he is some man of worship born.\"\n\n\"That may be,\" said the black knight, \"howbeit, as ye say that he be\nno man of worship, he is a full likely person, and full like to be a\nstrong man; but thus much shall I grant you,\" said the black knight,\n\"I shall put him down upon his feet, and his horse and his harness he\nshall leave with me, for it were shame to me to do him any more harm.\"\n\nWhen Sir Beaumains heard him say thus, he said, \"Sir knight, thou art\nfull liberal of my horse and my harness. I let thee wit it cost thee\nnought, and whether it liketh thee or not this lawn will I pass, maugre\nthine head, and horse nor harness gettest thou none of me, but if thou\nwin them with thy hands; and therefore let see what thou canst do.\"\n\n\"Sayst thou that?\" said the black knight, \"now yield thy lady from\nthee, for it beseemeth never a kitchen page to ride with such a lady.\"\n\n\"Thou liest,\" said Beaumains, \"I am a gentleman born, and of more high\nlineage than thou, and that will I prove on thy body.\"\n\nThen in great wrath they departed with their horses, and came together\nas it had been the thunder; and the black knight's spear brake, and\nBeaumains thrust him through both his sides, and therewith his spear\nbrake, and the truncheon left still in his side. But nevertheless the\nblack knight drew his sword, and smote many eager strokes and of great\nmight, and hurt Beaumains full sore. But at the last the black knight\nwithin an hour and a half he fell down off his horse in a swoon, and\nthere he died. And then Beaumains saw him so well horsed and armed,\nthen he alighted down, and armed him in his armor, and so took his\nhorse, and rode after the damsel. When she saw him come nigh, she\nsaid, \"Away, kitchen knave, out of the wind, for the smell of thy foul\nclothes grieveth me. Alas,\" she said, \"that ever such a knave as thou\nart should by mishap slay so good a knight as thou hast done, but all\nthis is thine unhappiness. But hereby is one shall pay thee all thy\npayment, and therefore yet I counsel thee, flee.\"\n\n\"It may happen me,\" said Beaumains, \"to be beaten or slain, but I warn\nyou, fair damsel, I will not flee away for him, nor leave your company\nfor all that ye can say; for ever ye say that they slay me or beat\nme, but how soever it happeneth I escape, and they lie on the ground,\nand therefore it were as good for you to hold you still, than thus to\nrebuke me all day, for away will I not till I feel the uttermost of\nthis journey, or else I will be slain or truly beaten; therefore ride\non your way, for follow you I will, whatsoever happen.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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 of her, \"Is that my brother, the black knight, that ye\nhave brought with you?\"\n\n\"Nay, nay,\" said she, \"this unhappy kitchen knave hath slain your\nbrother through unhappiness.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said the green knight, \"that is great pity that so noble a\nknight as he was should so unhappily be slain, and namely of a knave's\nhand, as ye say he is. Ah, traitor!\" said the green knight, \"thou shalt\ndie for slaying of my brother; he was a full noble knight, and his name\nwas Sir Periard.\"\n\n\"I defy thee,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"for I let thee to wit I slew him\nknightly, and not shamefully.\"\n\nTherewithal the green knight rode unto an horn that was green, and it\nhung upon a thorn, and there he blew three deadly notes, and there came\nthree damsels that lightly armed him. And then took he a great horse,\nand a green shield and a green spear. And then they ran together with\nall their mights, and brake their spears unto their hands. And then\nthey drew their swords, and gave many sad strokes, and either of them\nwounded other full ill. And at the last at an overthwart Beaumains'\nhorse struck the green knight's horse upon the side [that] he fell\nto the earth. And then the green knight avoided his horse lightly,\nand dressed him upon foot. That saw Beaumains, and therewithal he\nalighted, and they rushed together like two mighty champions a long\nwhile, and sore they bled both. With that came the damsel and said, \"My\nlord the green knight, why for shame stand ye so long fighting with the\nkitchen knave? Alas, it is shame that ever ye were made knight, to see\nsuch a lad match such a knight as the weed overgrew the corn.\"\n\nTherewith the green knight was ashamed, and therewithal he gave a great\nstroke of might, and clave his shield through. When Beaumains saw his\nshield cloven asunder he was a little ashamed of that stroke, and of\nher language; and then he gave him such a buffet upon the helm that he\nfell on his knees; and so suddenly Beaumains pulled him upon the ground\ngrovelling. And then the green knight cried him mercy, and yielded him\nunto Sir Beaumains, and prayed him to slay him not.\n\n\"All is in vain,\" said Beaumains, \"for thou shalt die, but if this\ndamsel that came with me pray me to save thy life.\"\n\nAnd therewithal he unlaced his helm, like as he would slay him.\n\n\"Fie upon thee, false kitchen page, I will never pray thee to save his\nlife, for I never will be so much in thy danger.\"\n\n\"Then shall he die,\" said Beaumains.\n\n\"Not so hardy, thou foul knave,\" said the damsel, \"that thou slay him.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said the green knight, \"suffer me not to die, for a fair word\nmay save my life. O fair knight,\" said the green knight, \"save my life,\nand I will forgive the death of my brother, and for ever to become thy\nman, and thirty knights that hold of me for ever shall do you service.\"\n\nSaid the damsel, \"That such a kitchen knave should have thee and thirty\nknights' service!\"\n\n\"Sir knight,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"all this availeth not, but if my\ndamsel speak with me for thy life.\"\n\nAnd therewithal he made resemblance to slay him.\n\n\"Let be,\" said the damsel, \"thou knave, slay him not, for if thou do,\nthou shalt repent it.\"\n\n\"Damsel,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"your charge is to me a pleasure, and at\nyour commandment his life shall be saved, and else not.\"\n\nThen he said, \"Sir knight with the green arms, I release thee quit\n[_acquitted_] at this damsel's request, for I will not make her wroth,\nI will fulfil all that she chargeth me.\"\n\nAnd then the green knight kneeled down and did him homage with his\nsword.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd always the damsel rebuked Sir Beaumains. And so that night they\nwent unto rest, and all that night the green knight commanded thirty\nknights privily to watch Beaumains, for to keep him from all treason.\nAnd so on the morn they all arose, and heard their mass and brake their\nfast, and then they took their horses and rode on their way, and the\ngreen knight conveyed them through the forest, and there the green\nknight said, \"My lord Beaumains, I and these thirty knights shall be\nalway at your summons, both early and late, at your calling, and where\nthat ever ye will send us.\"\n\n\"It is well said,\" said Beaumains; \"when that I call upon you ye must\nyield you unto King Arthur and all your knights.\"\n\n\"If that ye so command us, we shall be ready at all times,\" said the\ngreen knight.\n\n\"Fie, fie upon thee,\" said the damsel, \"that any good knights should be\nobedient unto a kitchen knave.\"\n\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!\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Damsel,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"ye are uncourteous so to rebuke me\nas ye do, for meseemeth I have done you great service, and ever ye\nthreaten me for I shall be beaten with knights that we meet, but ever\nfor all your boast they lie in the dust or in the mire, and therefore\nI pray you rebuke me no more; and when ye see me beaten or yielden as\nrecreant, then may ye bid me go from you shamefully, but first I let\nyou wit I will not depart from you, for I were worse than a fool and I\nwould depart from you all the while that I win worship.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said she, \"right soon there shall meet a knight shall pay thee\nall thy wages, for he is the most man of worship of the world, except\nKing Arthur.\"\n\n\"I will well,\" said Beaumains; \"the more he is of worship the more\nshall be my worship to have ado with him.\"\n\nThen anon they were ware where was before them a city rich and fair.\nAnd betwixt them and the city a mile and a half there was a fair meadow\nthat seemed new mown, and therein were many pavilions fair to behold.\n\n\"Lo,\" said the damsel, \"yonder is a lord that owneth yonder city, and\nhis custom is when the weather is fair to lie in this meadow to joust\nand tourney; and ever there be about him five hundred knights and\ngentlemen of arms, and there be all manner of games that any gentleman\ncan devise.\"\n\n\"That goodly lord,\" said Beaumains, \"would I fain see.\"\n\n\"Thou shalt see him time enough,\" said the damsel.\n\nAnd so as she rode near she espied the pavilion where he was.\n\n\"Lo,\" said she, \"seest thou yonder pavilion, that is all of the color\nof Inde, and all manner of thing that there is about, men and women,\nand horses trapped, shields and spears, all of the color of Inde, and\nhis name is Sir Persant of Inde, the most lordliest knight that ever\nthou lookedst on.\"\n\n\"It may well be,\" said Beaumains, \"but be he never so stout a knight,\nin this field I shall abide till that I see him under his shield.\"\n\n\"Ah, fool,\" said she, \"thou wert better flee betimes.\"\n\n\"Why,\" said Beaumains, \"and he be such a knight as ye make him, he will\nnot set upon me with all his men, or with his five hundred knights. For\nand there come no more but one at once, I shall him not fail whilst my\nlife lasteth.\"\n\n\"Fie, fie,\" said the damsel, \"that ever such a dirty knave should blow\nsuch a boast.\"\n\n\"Damsel,\" he said, \"ye are to blame so to rebuke me, for I had liever\ndo five battles than so to be rebuked; let him come, and then let him\ndo his worst.\"\n\n\"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.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"be it as it may; for since I am\ncome so nigh this knight I will prove his might or [_ere_] I depart\nfrom him, and else I shall be shamed and [_if_] I now withdraw me\nfrom him. And therefore, damsel, have ye no doubt by the grace of God\nI shall so deal with this knight, that within two hours after noon I\nshall deliver him, and then shall we come to the siege by daylight.\"\n\n\"Oh, mercy, marvel have I,\" said the damsel, \"what manner a man ye be,\nfor it may never be otherwise but that ye be come of a noble blood, for\nso foul and shamefully did never woman rule a knight as I have done\nyou, and ever courteously ye have suffered me, and that came never but\nof a gentle blood.\"\n\n\"Damsel,\" said Beaumains, \"a knight may little do that may not\nsuffer a damsel; for whatsoever ye said unto me I took none heed to\nyour words, for the more ye said the more ye angered me, and my wrath\nI wreaked upon them that I had ado withal. And therefore all the\nmissaying that ye missayed me furthered me in my battle, and caused\nme to think to show and prove myself at the end what I was; for\nperadventure though I had meat in King Arthur's kitchen, yet I might\nhave had meat enough in other places; but all that I did for to prove\nmy friends; and whether I be a gentleman born or no, fair damsel, I\nhave done you gentleman's service, and peradventure better service yet\nwill I do you or [_before_] I depart from you.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said she, \"fair Beaumains, forgive me all that I have missaid\nand misdone against you.\"\n\n\"With all my heart,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"I forgive it you, for ye did\nnothing but as ye ought to do, for all your evil words pleased me; and,\ndamsel,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"sith [_since_] it liketh you to speak\nthus fair to me, wit ye well it gladdeth greatly mine heart; and now\nmeseemeth there is no knight living but I am able enough for him.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWith this Sir Persant of Inde had espied them, as they hoved\n[_hovered_] in the field, and knightly he sent to them to know whether\nhe came in war or in peace.\n\n\"Say unto thy lord,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"I take no force,[14] but\nwhether as him list[15] himself.\"\n\n[Footnote 14: \"I take no force,\" _I care not_.]\n\n[Footnote 15: \"Him list,\" _he wishes, he pleases_.]\n\nSo the messenger went again unto Sir Persant, and told him all his\nanswer.\n\n\"Well,\" said he, \"then will I have ado with him to the uttermost;\" and\nso he purveyed him [_prepared himself_], and rode against him. And when\nSir Beaumains saw him, he made him ready, and there they met with all\nthe might that their horses might run, and brake their spears either\nin three pieces, and their horses rashed so together that both their\nhorses fell dead to the earth; and lightly they avoided their horses,\nand put their shields before them, and drew their swords, and gave each\nother many great strokes, that sometime they so hurled together that\nthey fell both grovelling on the ground. Thus they fought two hours and\nmore, that their shields and their hauberks were all forhewen [_hewn to\npieces_] and in many places they were sore wounded. So at the last Sir\nBeaumains smote him through the cost [_rib part_] of the body, and then\nhe retrayed him [_drew back_] here and there, and knightly maintained\nhis battle long time. And at the last Sir Beaumains smote Sir Persant\non the helm that he fell grovelling to the earth, and then he leaped\noverthwart [_across_] upon him, and unlaced his helm for to have slain\nhim. Then Sir Persant yielded him, and asked him mercy. With that came\nthe damsel and prayed him to save his life.\n\n\"I will well,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"for it were pity that this noble\nknight should die.\"\n\n\"Gramercy,\" said Sir Persant, \"gentle knight and damsel, for certainly\nnow I know well it was you that slew the black knight my brother at the\nblackthorn; he was a full noble knight, his name was Sir Periard. Also\nI am sure that ye are he that won mine other brother the green knight:\nhis name was Sir Pertolope. Also ye won the red knight, my brother, Sir\nPerimones. And now, sir, sith ye have won these knights, this shall I\ndo for to please you: ye shall have homage and fealty of me, and an\nhundred knights to be always at your command, to go and ride where ye\nwill command us.\"\n\nAnd so they went unto Sir Persant's pavilion, and there he drank wine\nand eat spices. And afterward Sir Persant made him to rest upon a bed\ntill it was supper time, and after supper to bed again. And so we leave\nhim there till on the morrow.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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 shamefully nigh forty knights with rich arms. Then Sir Beaumains\nabated his countenance, and said, \"What thing meaneth this?\"\n\n\"Fair sir,\" saith the damsel, \"abate not your cheer for all this sight,\nfor ye must encourage yourself, or else ye be all shent [_ruined_], for\nall these knights came hither unto this siege to rescue my sister dame\nLyoness, and when the red knight of the red lawns had overcome them,\nhe put them to this shameful death, without mercy and pity, and in the\nsame wise he will serve you, but if ye quit [_acquit_] you the better.\"\n\n\"Now Jesu defend me,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"from such a villanous death\nand shenship [_disgrace_] of arms! for rather than thus I should fare\nwithal, I would rather be slain manfully in plain battle.\"\n\n\"So were ye better,\" said the damsel, \"trust not in him, for in him\nis no courtesy, but all goeth to the death or shameful murder, and\nthat is great pity, for he is a full likely man and well made of body,\nand a full noble knight of prowess, and a lord of great lands and\npossessions.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"he may well be a good knight, but he\nuseth shameful customs, and it is great marvel that he endureth so\nlong, that none of the noble knights of my lord King Arthur's court\nhave not dealt with him.\"\n\nAnd then they rode unto the ditches, and saw them double ditched with\nfull strong walls, and there were lodged many great estates and lords\nnigh the walls, and there was great noise of minstrels, and the sea\nbeat upon the one side of the walls, where as were many ships and\nmariners' noise with hale and how.[16] And also there was fast by a\nsycamore tree, and thereon hung an horn, the greatest that ever they\nsaw, of an elephant's bone.\n\n[Footnote 16: \"Hale and how,\" _haul and ho_: the sailors' cries in\nhoisting away, &c.]\n\n\"And this knight of the red lawns hath hanged it up there, that if\nthere come any errant knight, he must blow that horn, and then will\nhe make him ready, and come to him to do battle. But sir, I pray you,\"\nsaid the damsel Linet, \"blow ye not the horn till it be high noon, for\nnow it is about prime, and now increaseth his might, that, as men say,\nhe hath seven men's strength.\"\n\n\"Ah, fie for shame, fair damsel, say ye never so more to me, for, and\nhe were as good a knight as ever was, I shall never fail him in his\nmost might, for either I will win worship worshipfully, or die knightly\nin the field.\"\n\nAnd therewith he spurred his horse straight to the sycamore tree\nand blew the horn so eagerly that all the siege and the castle rang\nthereof. And then there leaped our knights out of their tents and\npavilions, and they within the castle looked over the walls and out at\nwindows. Then the red knight of the red lawns armed him hastily, and\ntwo barons set on his spurs upon his heels, and all was blood-red, his\narmor, spear, and shield. And an earl buckled his helm upon his head,\nand then they brought him a red spear and a red steed, and so he rode\ninto a little vale under the castle, that all that were in the castle\nand at the siege might behold the battle.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Sir,\" 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 Lyoness.\"\n\n\"Where?\" said Beaumains.\n\n\"Yonder,\" said the damsel, and pointed with her finger.\n\n\"That is truth,\" said Beaumains. \"She seemeth afar the fairest lady\nthat ever I looked upon, and truly,\" he said, \"I ask no better quarrel\nthan now for to do battle, for truly she shall be my lady, and for her\nI will fight.\"\n\nAnd ever he looked up to the window with glad countenance. And the lady\nLyoness made courtesy to him down to the earth, with holding up both\nher hands. With that the red knight of the red lawns called to Sir\nBeaumains, \"Leave, sir knight, thy looking, and behold me, I counsel\nthee, for I warn thee well she is my lady, and for her I have done many\nstrong battles.\"\n\n\"If thou have so done,\" said Beaumains, \"meseemeth it was but waste\nlabor, for she loveth none of thy fellowship, and thou to love that\nloveth not thee, is a great folly. For if I understood that she were\nnot glad of my coming, I would be advised or I did battle for her,\nbut I understand by the besieging of this castle she may forbear thy\ncompany. And therefore wit thou well, thou red knight of the red lawns,\nI love her and will rescue her, or else die in the quarrel.\"\n\n\"Sayest thou that?\" said the red knight; \"me seemeth thou ought of\nreason to beware by yonder knights that thou sawest hang upon yonder\ngreat elms.\"\n\n\"Fie, fie, for shame,\" said Sir Beaumains, \"that ever thou shouldest\nsay or do so evil and such shamefulness, for in that thou shamest\nthyself and the order of knighthood, and thou mayst be sure there will\nno lady love thee that knoweth thy detestable customs. And now thou\nweenest [_thinkest_] that the sight of these hanged knights should fear\n[_scare_] me and make me aghast, nay truly not so, that shameful sight\ncauseth me to have courage and hardiness against thee, more than I\nwould have had against thee and if thou be a well ruled knight.\"\n\n\"Make thee ready,\" said the red knight of the red lawns, \"and talk no\nlonger with me.\"\n\nThen Sir Beaumains bade the damsel go from him, and then they put their\nspears in their rests, and came together with all the might they had,\nand either smote other in the midst of their shields, that the paytrels\n[_breast-plates_], surcingles, and cruppers burst, and fell both to\nthe ground with the reins of their bridles in their hands, and so they\nlay a great while sore astonied, and all they that were in the castle\nand at the siege wend [_thought_] their necks had been broken, and\nthen many a stranger and other said that the strange knight was a big\nman and a noble jouster, \"for or [_ere_] now we saw never no knight\nmatch the red knight of the red lawns;\" thus they said both within the\ncastle and without. Then they lightly avoided their horses and put\ntheir shields afore them, and drew their swords and ran together like\ntwo fierce lions, and either gave other such buffets upon their helms\nthat they reeled both backward two strides; and then they recovered\nboth, and hewed great pieces from their harness and their shields that\na great part fell in the fields.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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 [_feinting_], as\ntwo boars. And at some time they took their run as it had been two\nrams, and hurtled together that sometimes they fell grovelling to the\nearth; and at some time they were so amazed that either took other's\nsword instead of his own.\n\nThus they endured till even-song time [_vespers_], that there was\nnone that beheld them might know whether was like to win the battle;\nand their armor was so far hewn that men might see their naked sides,\nand in other places they were naked, but ever the naked places they\ndid defend. And the red knight was a wily knight of war, and his wily\nfighting taught Sir Beaumains to be wise; but he abought [_paid for_]\nit full sore ere he did espy his fighting. And thus by assent of them\nboth, they granted either other to rest; and so they set them down upon\ntwo mole-hills there beside the fighting place, and either of them\nunlaced his helm, and took the cold wind, for either of their pages was\nfast by them, to come when they called to unlace their harness and to\nset it on again at their command. And then when Sir Beaumains' helm was\noff, he looked up unto the window, and there he saw the fair lady dame\nLyoness. And she made to him such countenance that his heart was light\nand joyful. And therewith he started up suddenly, and bade the red\nknight make him ready to do the battle to the uttermost.\n\n\"I will well,\" said the red knight.\n\nAnd then they laced up their helms, and their pages avoided [_got out\nof the way_], and they stepped together and fought freshly. But the red\nknight of the red lawns awaited him, and at an overthwart [_crosswise_]\nsmote him within the hand, that his sword fell out of his hand; and\nyet he gave him another buffet on the helm that he fell grovelling to\nthe earth, and the red knight fell over him for to hold him down.\n\nThen cried the maiden Linet on high, \"O Sir Beaumains, where is thy\ncourage become! Alas, my lady my sister beholdeth thee, and she sobbeth\nand weepeth, that maketh mine heart heavy.\"\n\nWhen Sir Beaumains heard her say so, he started up with a great might\nand gat him upon his feet, and lightly he leaped 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.\"\n\nThen Sir Beaumains bethought him upon the knights that he had made to\nbe hanged shamefully, and then he said, \"I may not with my worship\nsave thy life, for the shameful deaths thou hast caused many full good\nknights to die.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the red knight of the red lawns, \"hold your hand, and ye\nshall know the causes why I put them to so shameful a death.\"\n\n\"Say on,\" said Sir Beaumains.\n\n\"Sir, I loved once a lady, a fair damsel, and she had her brother\nslain, and she said it was Sir Launcelot du Lake, or else Sir Gawaine,\nand she prayed me as that I loved her heartily that I would make her a\npromise by the faith of my knighthood for to labor daily in arms until\nI met with one of them, and all that I might overcome I should put\nthem unto a villanous death; and this is the cause that I have put all\nthese knights to death, and so I ensured her to do all the villany unto\nKing Arthur's knights, and that I should take vengeance upon all these\nknights. And, sir, now I will thee tell that every day my strength\nincreaseth till noon, and all this time have I seven men's strength.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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\ntake homage and fealty, and let him hold his lands of you, than for to\nslay him: by his death ye shall have none advantage, and his misdeeds\nthat be done may not be undone; and therefore he shall make amends to\nall parties, and we all will become your men, and do you homage and\nfealty.\"\n\n\"Fair lords,\" said Beaumains, \"wit you well I am full loth to slay\nthis knight, nevertheless he hath done passing ill and shamefully. But\ninsomuch all that he did was at a lady's 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 [_acquit_] him, I will well;\nwith this that he make her amends of all the trespass he hath done\nagainst her and her lands. And also, when that is done, that ye go unto\nthe court of King Arthur, and there that ye ask Sir Launcelot mercy,\nand Sir Gawaine, for the evil will ye have had against them.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the red knight of the red lawns, \"all this will I do as ye\ncommand, and certain assurance and sureties ye shall have.\"\n\nAnd so then when the assurance was made, he made his homage and fealty,\nand all those earls and barons with him. And then the maiden Linet came\nto Sir Beaumains and unarmed him, and searched his wounds, and stinted\nhis blood, and in likewise she did to the red knight of the red lawns.\nAnd so they sojourned ten days in their tents. And the red knight made\nhis lords and servants to do all the pleasure that they might unto Sir\nBeaumains.\n\nAnd within a while after, the red knight of the red lawns went unto the\ncastle and put him in the lady Lyoness' grace, and so she received him\nupon sufficient sureties, and all her hurts were well restored of all\nthat she could complain. And then he departed and went unto the court\nof King Arthur, and there openly the red knight of the red lawns put\nhim in the mercy of Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine, and there he told\nopenly how he was overcome, and by whom, and also he told of all the\nbattles, from the beginning to the ending.\n\n\"Jesus, mercy,\" said King Arthur and Sir Gawaine, \"we marvel much of\nwhat blood he is come, for he is a full noble knight.\"\n\n\"Have ye no marvel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for ye shall right well\nwit that he is come of a full noble blood, and, as for his might and\nhardiness, there be but few now living that is so mighty as he is and\nso noble of prowess.\"\n\n\"It seemeth by you,\" said King Arthur, \"that ye know his name, and from\nwhence he is come, and of what blood he is.\"\n\n\"I suppose I do so,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"or else I would not have\ngiven him the order of knighthood; but he gave me at that time such\ncharge that I should never discover him until he required me, or else\nit be known openly by some other.\"\n\nNow return we unto Sir Beaumains, which desired of the damsel Linet\nthat he might see her sister his lady.\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"I would fain ye saw her.\"\n\nThen Sir Beaumains armed him at all points, and took his horse and his\nspear, and rode straight to the castle. And when he came to the gate,\nhe found there many men armed, that pulled up the drawbridge and drew\nthe port close. Then marvelled he why they would not suffer him to\nenter in. And then he looked up to the window, and there he saw the\nfair lady dame Lyoness, that said on high: \"Go thy way, Sir Beaumains,\nfor as yet thou shalt not wholly have my love, until the time thou be\ncalled one of the number of the worthy knights; and therefore go and\nlabor in arms worshipfully these twelve months, and then ye shall hear\nnew tidings; and perd\u00c3\u00a9 [_per dieu, truly_] a twelvemonth will be soon\ngone, and trust you me, fair knight, I shall be true unto you, and\nshall never betray you, but unto my death I shall love you and none\nother.\"\n\nAnd therewithal she turned her from the window. And Sir Beaumains rode\naway from the castle in making great moan and sorrow; and so he rode\nhere and there, and wist not whither he rode, till it was dark night;\nand then it happened him to come to a poor man's house, and there he\nwas harbored all that night. But Sir Beaumains could have no rest, but\nwallowed and writhed for the love of the lady of the castle. And so on\nthe morrow he took his horse and his armor, and rode till it was noon;\nand then he came unto a broad water, and thereby was a great lodge,\nand there he alighted to sleep, and laid his head upon his shield, and\nbetook his horse to the dwarf, and commanded him to watch all night.\n\nNow turn we to the lady of the castle, that thought much upon Sir\nBeaumains; and then she called unto her Sir Gringamor her brother, and\nprayed him in all manner, as he loved her heartily, that he would ride\nafter Sir Beaumains, \"and ever have him in a wait [_look after him_]\ntill that ye may find him sleeping, for I am sure in his heaviness he\nwill alight down in some place and lie down to sleep, and therefore\nhave your watch upon him, and, in the priviest wise [_softest way_]\nthat ye can, take his dwarf from him, and go your way with him as fast\nas ever ye may or Sir Beaumains awake; for my sister Linet hath showed\nme that the dwarf can tell of what kindred he is come, and what his\nright name is; and in the meanwhile I and my sister will ride to your\ncastle to await when ye shall bring with you this dwarf, and then when\nye have brought him to your castle, I will have him in examination\nmyself; unto the time I know what his right name is, and of what\nkindred he is come, shall I never be merry at my heart.\"\n\n\"Sister,\" said Sir Gringamor, \"all this shall be done after your\nintent.\" And so he rode all the other day and the night till that he\nfound Sir Beaumains lying by a water, and his head upon his shield,\nfor to sleep. And then when he saw Sir Beaumains fast on sleep, he\ncame stilly stalking behind the dwarf, and plucked him fast under his\narm, and so he rode away with him as fast as ever he might unto his\nown castle. But ever as he rode with the dwarf towards his castle, he\ncried unto his lord and prayed him of help. And therewith awoke Sir\nBeaumains, and up he leaped lightly, and saw where Sir Gringamor rode\nhis way with the dwarf, and so Sir Gringamor rode out of his sight.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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 he\ntook the next [_nearest_] way in that woodness [_madness_] that many\ntimes he was like to perish. [And so he came following his dwarf to Sir\nGringamor's castle. But aforetime the lady Lyoness had come and had\nthe dwarf in examination; and the dwarf had told the lady how that Sir\nBeaumains was the son of a king, and how his mother was sister to King\nArthur, and how his right name was Sir Gareth of Orkney.]\n\n[Illustration: _The lady Lyoness ... had the dwarf in examination_]\n\nAnd as they sat thus talking, there came Sir Beaumains at the gate\nwith an angry countenance, and his sword drawn in his hand, and cried\naloud that all the castle might hear it, saying, \"Thou traitor, Sir\nGringamor, deliver me my dwarf again, or by the faith that I owe to the\norder of knighthood, I shall do thee all the harm that I can.\"\n\nThen Sir Gringamor looked out at a window, and said, \"Sir Gareth of\nOrkney, leave thy boasting words, for thou gettest not thy dwarf again.\"\n\n\"Thou coward knight,\" said Sir Gareth, \"bring him with thee, and come\nand do battle with me, and win him, and take him.\"\n\n\"So will I do,\" said Sir Gringamor, \"and me list [_if it please me_],\nbut for all thy great words thou gettest him not.\"\n\n\"Ah, fair brother,\" said dame Lyoness, \"I would he had his dwarf again,\nfor I would not he were wroth, for now he hath told me all my desire\nI will no longer keep the dwarf. And also, brother, he hath done much\nfor me, and delivered me from the red knight of the red lawns, and\ntherefore, brother, I owe him my service afore all knights living; and\nwit ye well I love him above all other knights, and full fain would I\nspeak with him, but in no wise I would he wist what I were, but that I\nwere another strange lady.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Gringamor, \"sith [_since_] that I know your will, I\nwill now obey unto him.\"\n\nAnd therewithal he went down unto Sir Gareth, and said, \"Sir, I cry you\nmercy, and all that I have misdone against your person I will amend it\nat your own will, and therefore I pray you that you will alight, and\ntake such cheer as I can make you here in this castle.\"\n\n\"Shall I then have my dwarf again?\" said Sir Gareth.\n\n\"Yea, sir, and all the pleasure that I can make you, for as soon as\nyour dwarf told me what ye were and of what blood that ye are come,\nand what noble deeds ye have done in these marches [_borders_], then I\nrepent me of my deeds.\"\n\nAnd then Sir Gareth alighted down from his horse, and therewith came\nhis dwarf and took his horse.\n\n\"O my fellow,\" said Sir Gareth, \"I have had many evil adventures for\nthy sake.\"\n\nAnd so Sir Gringamor took him by the hand, and led him into the hall,\nand there was Sir Gringamor's wife.\n\nAnd then there came forth into the hall dame Lyoness arrayed like a\nprincess, and there she made him passing good cheer, and he her again.\nAnd they had goodly language and lovely countenance together. And Sir\nGareth many times thought in himself, \"Would to God that the lady of\nthe Castle Perilous were so fair as she is!\" There were all manner of\ngames and plays, both of dancing and leaping; and ever the more Sir\nGareth beheld the lady, the more he loved her, and so he burned in love\nthat he was past himself in his understanding. And forth towards night\nthey went to supper, and Sir Gareth might not eat, for his love was\nso hot that he wist not where he was. All these looks Sir Gringamor\nespied, and after supper he called his sister dame Lyoness unto a\nchamber, and said: \"Fair sister, I have well espied your countenance\nbetween you and this knight, and I will, sister, that ye wit that he is\na full noble knight, and if ye can make him to abide here, I will do to\nhim all the pleasure that I can, for and ye were better than ye be, ye\nwere well bestowed upon him.\"\n\n\"Fair brother,\" said dame Lyoness, \"I understand well that the knight\nis good, and come he is of a noble house; notwithstanding I will assay\nhim better, for he hath had great labor for my love, and hath passed\nmany a dangerous passage.\"\n\nRight so Sir Gringamor went unto Sir Gareth, and said: \"Sir, make ye\ngood cheer; for wist [know] ye well that she loveth you as well as ye\ndo her, and better if better may be.\"\n\n\"And I wist that,\" said Sir Gareth, \"there lived not a gladder man than\nI would be.\"\n\n\"Upon my worship,\" said Sir Gringamor, \"trust unto my promise; and as\nlong as it liketh you ye shall sojourn with me, and this lady shall be\nwith us daily and nightly to make you all the cheer that she can.\"\n\n\"I will well,\" said Sir Gareth, \"for I have promised to be nigh this\ncountry this twelvemonth. And well I am sure King Arthur and other\nnoble knights will find me where that I am within this twelvemonth. For\nI shall be sought and found, if that I be on live.\"\n\nAnd then the noble knight Sir Gareth went unto the dame Lyoness, which\nhe then much loved, and kissed her many times, and either made great\njoy of other. And there she promised him her love, certainly to love\nhim and none other the days of her life. Then this lady, dame Lyoness,\nby the assent of her brother, told Sir Gareth all the truth what she\nwas, and how she was the same lady that he did battle for, and how she\nwas lady of the Castle Perilous. And there she told him how she caused\nher brother to take away his dwarf, \"For this cause, to know the\ncertainty what was your name, and of what kin ye were come.\"\n\nAnd then she let fetch before him Linet the damsel, which had ridden\nwith him many dreary ways. Then was Sir Gareth more gladder than he was\ntofore. And then they troth plight[17] each other to love, and never to\nfail while their life lasted.\n\n[Footnote 17: \"Troth,\" _truth_, and \"plight,\" _wove_: \"troth plight,\"\n_wove their truth together_.]\n\n\n\n\n                                BOOK IV\n\n                            OF SIR TRISTRAM\n\n\nThere was a knight that hight Meliodas, and he was lord and king of the\ncountry of Lyonesse, and this King Meliodas was as likely a man as any\nwas at that time living. And by fortune he wedded King Mark's sister of\nCornwall, whose name was Elizabeth, and she was a right fair lady and a\ngood.\n\n[And it befell on a day that a certain enchantress wrought as he rode\non hunting, for he was a great hunter, and made him chase an hart by\nhimself till that he came to an old castle, and there she took him\nprisoner. Now when Queen Elizabeth missed her husband King Meliodas,\nshe was nigh out of her wit; and she took a gentlewoman with her and\nran far into the forest and took such cold that she might not recover.\nAnd when she saw] that the deep draughts of death took her, that needs\nshe must die and depart out of this world [and] there was none other\nboot [_aid, or hope_], she made great moan and sorrow, and said unto\nher gentlewoman: \"When ye see my lord King Meliodas, recommend me unto\nhim, and tell him what pains I endure for his love, and how I must die\nhere for his sake, and for default of good help, and let him wit that\nI am full sorry to depart out of this world from him, therefore pray\nhim to be good friend unto my soul. And I charge thee, gentlewoman,\nthat thou beseech my lord King Meliodas, that when my son shall\nbe christened let him be named Tristram, that is as much to say as\nsorrowful birth.\"\n\nAnd therewithal this Queen Elizabeth gave up her ghost, and died in the\nsame place. Then the gentlewoman laid her under the shadow of a great\ntree.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[And it so happened that after seven years King Meliodas took him a\nsecond wife, and wedded King Howell's daughter of Brittany. And the new\nqueen was jealous of young Tristram in the behalf of her own children,\nand put poison for Tristram to drink. But by strange hap her own son\ndrank the poison and died. Then again she put poison in some drink for\nTristram; and] by fortune the King Meliodas her husband found the piece\n[_cup_] with the wine whereas the poison was in, and he, that was most\nthirsty, took the piece for to drink thereof, and as he would have\ndrunken thereof the queen espied him, and then she ran unto him and\npulled the piece from him suddenly. The king marvelled why she did so,\nand remembered him how her son was suddenly slain with poison. And then\nhe took her by the hand, and thus said to her: \"Thou false traitress,\nthou shalt tell me what manner of drink this is, or else I shall slay\nthee.\" And therewith he pulled out his sword, and swore a great oath\nthat he would slay her but if she told him truth.\n\n\"Ah! mercy, my lord,\" said she, \"and I shall tell you all.\"\n\nAnd then she told him why that she would have slain Tristram, because\nher children should rejoice the land.\n\n\"Well,\" said King Meliodas, \"therefore shall ye have the law.\"\n\nAnd so she was damned [_condemned_] by the assent of the barons to be\nburnt; and then there was made a great fire, and right as she was at\nthe fire for to take her execution, young Tristram kneeled down before\nKing Meliodas, his father, and besought him to give him a boon.\n\n\"I will well,\" said the king.\n\nThen said young Tristram, \"Give me the life of your queen, my\nstepmother.\"\n\n\"That is unrightfully asked,\" said his father, King Meliodas, \"for she\nwould have slain thee with that poison and she might have had her will,\nand for thy sake most is my cause that she should die.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" 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 liketh your highness to grant me my boon, for God's love\nI pray you hold your promise.\"\n\n\"Sith it is so,\" said the king, \"I will that ye have her life and give\nher to you, and go ye to the fire and take her, and do with her what ye\nwill.\"\n\nSo young Tristram went to the fire, and, by the command of the king,\ndelivered her from the death.\n\nAnd by the good means of young Tristram he made the king and her accord.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd then [King Meliodas] let ordain a gentleman that was well learned\nand taught; his name was Gouvernail; and 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\nhe well could speak the language, and had learned all that he might\nlearn in that country, then he came home to his father King Meliodas\nagain. And so Tristram learned to be an harper passing all other,\nthat there was none such called in no country, and so in harping and\non instruments of music he applied him in his youth for to learn. And\nafter as he grew in might and strength he laboured ever in hunting and\nin hawking, so that never gentleman more, that ever we heard tell of.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen it befell that King Anguish of Ireland sent to King Mark of\nCornwall for his truage [_tribute_], which Cornwall had paid many\nwinters afore time, and all that time King Mark was behind of the\ntruage for seven years. And King Mark and his barons gave unto the\nmessenger of Ireland this answer, and said that they would none pay,\nand bade the messenger go unto his King Anguish and tell him, \"that we\nwill pay him no truage; but tell your lord, and he will always have\ntruage of us of Cornwall, bid him send a trusty knight of his land\nthat will fight for his right, and we shall find another to defend our\nright.\" With this answer the messenger departed into Ireland. And when\nKing Anguish understood the answer of the messenger, he was wondrous\nwroth; and then he called unto him Sir Marhaus the good knight that was\nnobly proved, and a knight of the Round Table. And this Sir Marhaus was\nbrother unto the Queen of Ireland. Then the king [prayed Sir Marhaus\nthat he would go and fight for his truage of Cornwall].\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Marhaus, \"wit [_know_] ye well that I shall not be loth\nto do battle in the right of you and your land with the best knight of\nthe Round Table, for I know what their deeds be, and for to increase my\nworship [_worth-ship_] I will right gladly go to this journey for our\nright.\"\n\nSo in all haste there was made purveyance for Sir Marhaus, and so he\ndeparted out of Ireland, and arrived up in Cornwall, even fast by the\ncastle of Tintagil. And when King Mark understood that he was there\narrived to fight for Ireland, then made King Mark great sorrow. For\nthey knew no knight that durst have ado with him. For at that time Sir\nMarhaus was called one of the famousest and renowned knights of the\nworld.\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. Then they of Cornwall\nlet make cries in every place, that what knight would fight for to save\nthe truage 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. Then there were some other barons that counselled\nthe king not to do so, and said that it was labour in vain, because Sir\nMarhaus was a knight of the Round Table, therefore any of them will be\nloth to have ado with other. So the king and all his barons assented\nthat it was no boot [_help_] to seek any knight of the Round Table.\nWhen young Tristram heard of this he was wroth and sore ashamed that\nthere durst no knight in Cornwall have ado with Sir Marhaus of Ireland.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTherewithal Sir Tristram went unto his father King Meliodas, and asked\nhim counsel what was best to do for to recover the country of Cornwall\nfor truage. \"For as me seemeth,\" said Sir Tristram, \"it were shame that\nSir Marhaus, the queen's brother of Ireland, should go away, unless\nthat he were not fought withal.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said King Meliodas, \"wit ye well, my son Tristram, that\nSir Marhaus is called one of the best knights of the world, and knight\nof the Round Table, and therefore I know no knight in this country that\nis able to match with him.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Tristram, \"that I am not made knight, and if Sir\nMarhaus should thus depart into Ireland, God let me never have worship;\nand I were made knight I should match him; and sir,\" said Sir Tristram,\n\"I pray you to give me leave to ride unto mine uncle King Mark, and so\nye be not displeased, of King Mark will I be made knight.\"\n\n\"I will well,\" said King Meliodas, \"that ye be ruled as your courage\nwill rule you.\"\n\nAnd then Sir Tristram thanked his father much, and so made him ready\nto ride into Cornwall. And in the mean while there came a messenger\nwith letters of love from the daughter of King Faramon of France, unto\nSir Tristram, that were full piteous letters, and in them were written\nmany complaints of love. But Sir Tristram had no joy of her letters,\nnor regard unto her. Also she sent him a little brachet [_hunting\nhound_] that was passing fair. But when the king's daughter understood\nthat Tristram would not love her, she died for sorrow. So this young\nSir Tristram rode unto his uncle King Mark of Cornwall. And when he\ncame there he heard say that there would no knight fight with Sir\nMarhaus. Then went Sir Tristram unto his uncle and said,--\n\n\"Sir, if ye will give me the order of knighthood I will do battle with\nSir Marhaus.\"\n\n\"What are ye?\" said the king, \"and from whence be ye come?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Tristram, \"I come from King Meliodas that wedded your\nsister, and a gentleman wit ye well I am.\"\n\nKing Mark beheld Sir Tristram, and saw that he was but a young man of\nage, but he was passingly well made and big.\n\n\"Fair sir,\" said the king, \"what is your name, and where were ye born?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said he again, \"my name is Tristram, and in the country of\nLyonesse was I born.\"\n\n\"Ye say well,\" said the king, \"and if ye will do this battle I shall\nmake you knight.\"\n\n\"Therefore I come to you,\" said Sir Tristram, \"and for none other\ncause.\"\n\nBut then King Mark made him knight. And therewithal anon as he had made\nhim knight, he sent a messenger unto Sir Marhaus with letters that said\nthat he had found a young knight ready for to take the battle to the\nuttermost.\n\n\"It may well be,\" said Sir Marhaus; \"but tell unto King Mark that I\nwill not fight with no knight but if he be of blood royal, that is to\nsay either king's son or queen's son, born of a prince or princess.\"\n\nWhen King Mark understood that, he sent for Sir Tristram de Lyonesse,\nand told him what was the answer of Sir Marhaus. Then said Sir\nTristram,--\n\n\"Since he sayeth so, let him wit that I am come of father's side and\nmother's side of as noble blood as he is. For, sir, now shall ye know\nthat I am King Meliodas' son, born of your own sister dame Elizabeth,\nthat died in the forest in the birth of me.\"\n\n\"Yea!\" said King Mark, \"ye are welcome fair nephew to me.\"\n\nThen in all the haste the king let horse Sir Tristram and arm him in\nthe best manner that might be had or gotten for gold or silver. And\nthen King Mark sent unto Sir Marhaus, and did him to wit [_let him\nknow_] that a better born man than he was himself should fight with\nhim, and his name is Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, [son of] King Meliodas,\nand born of King Mark's sister. Then was Sir Marhaus glad and blithe\nthat he should fight with such a gentleman. And so by the assent of\nKing Mark and Sir Marhaus they let ordain that they should fight within\nan island nigh Sir Marhaus' ships; and so was young Sir Tristram put\ninto a little vessel, both his horse and he, and all that to him\nbelonged both for his body and for his horse, so that Sir Tristram\nlacked no manner thing. And when King Mark and his barons of Cornwall\nbeheld how young Sir Tristram departed with such a carriage [_that is,\ncarrying himself so bravely_] to fight for the right of Cornwall, wit\nye well there was neither man nor woman of worship but they wept for to\nsee so young a knight jeopard himself for their right.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFor to make short this tale, that when Sir Tristram was arrived within\nthe island, then he looked to the further side, and there he saw at an\nanchor six ships nigh to the land, and under the shadow of the ships,\nupon the land, there hoved [_hovered_] the noble knight Sir Marhaus of\nIreland. And then Sir Tristram commanded his servant Gouvernail for to\nbring his horse to the land, and dress his harness at all manner of\nrights. And when he had so done, he mounted upon his horse. And when\nhe was in his saddle well apparelled, and his shield dressed upon his\nshoulder, Sir Tristram asked Gouvernail, \"Where is this knight that I\nshall have to do withal?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said his servant Gouvernail, \"see ye him not? I wend ye had seen\nhim, yonder he hoveth under the shadow of his ships upon horseback, and\nhis spear in his hand, and his shield upon his shoulder.\"\n\n\"It is truth,\" said Sir Tristram, \"now I see him well enough.\"\n\nAnd then he commanded his servant Gouvernail to go again unto his\nvessel, and commend him \"unto mine uncle King Mark, and pray him that\nif I be slain in this battle, for to bury my body as him seemeth\nbest, and, as for me, let him wit that I will never yield me for no\ncowardice, and if I be slain and flee not, then have they lost no\ntruage for me. And if so be that I flee or yield me as recreant, bid\nmine uncle never bury me in Christian burials. And upon my life,\" said\nSir Tristram to Gouvernail, \"come thou not nigh this island till thou\nsee me overcome or slain, or else that I win yonder knight.\"\n\nAnd so either departed from other weeping.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd then Sir Marhaus perceived Sir Tristram, and thus said unto him:\n\"Young knight Sir Tristram, what doest thou here? Me sore repenteth of\nthy courage, for wit thou well I have matched with the best knights of\nthe world, and therefore by my counsel return again to thy ship.\"\n\n\"Fair knight and well proved knight,\" said Sir Tristram, \"thou shalt\nwell wit that I may not forsake thee in this quarrel, for I am for\nthy sake made knight, and thou shalt well wit that I am a king's son\nborn, and such promise have I made at mine uncle's request and mine own\nseeking, that I shall fight with thee unto the uttermost, to deliver\nCornwall from the old truage. Also wit ye well, Sir Marhaus, that\nfor ye are called one of the best renowned knights of the world, and\nbecause of that noise and fame that ye have, it will do me good to\nhave to do with you, for never yet sith [_since_] that I was born of\nmy mother was I proved with a good knight, and also sith I have taken\nthe high order of knighthood this day, I am right well pleased that I\nmay have to do with so good a knight as ye are. And now wit ye well,\nSir Marhaus of Ireland, that I cast me to win worship on thy body, I\ntrust to God I shall be worshipfully proved upon thy body and for to\ndeliver the country of Cornwall forever from all manner of truage from\nIreland.\"\n\nAnd when the good knight Sir Marhaus had heard him say what him list,\nthen said he thus again: \"Fair knight, sith it is so that thou castest\nthee to win worship on me, I let thee wit that no worship maist thou\nleese [_lose_] by me, if thou mayst stand me three strokes, for I let\nyou wit that for my noble deeds, proved and seen, King Arthur made me\nknight of the Table Round.\" Then they began to feuter [_place in rest_]\ntheir spears, and they met so fiercely together that they smote either\nother down both horse and all. But Sir Marhaus smote Sir Tristram\na great wound in the side with his spear, and then they avoided\ntheir horses, and pulled out their swords, and threw their shields\nafore them, and then they lashed together as men than were wild and\ncourageous. And when they had stricken so together long, then they left\ntheir strokes, and foined [_thrust, in feinting_]; and when they saw\nthat that might not prevail them, then they hurtled together like rams\nto bear either other down. Thus they fought still more than half a day,\nand either were wounded passing sore, that the blood ran down freshly\nfrom them upon the ground. By then Sir Tristram waxed more fresher than\nSir Marhaus, and better winded and bigger, and with a mighty stroke he\nsmote Sir Marhaus upon the helm such a buffet, that it went through his\nhelm, and through the coif of steel, and through the brain-pan, and the\nsword stuck so fast in the helm and in his brain-pan that Sir Tristram\npulled thrice at his sword or ever he might pull it out from his head,\nand there Marhaus fell down on his knees, [and a piece of] the edge of\nTristram's sword [was] left in his brain-pan. And suddenly Sir Marhaus\nrose grovelling, and threw his sword and his shield from him, and\nso ran to his ships and fled his way, and Sir Tristram had ever his\nshield and his sword. And when Sir Tristram saw Sir Marhaus withdraw\nhim, he said, \"Ah, sir knight of the Round Table, why withdrawest thou\nthee; thou doest thyself and thy kin great shame, for I am but a young\nknight, or now I was never proved, and rather than I should withdraw\nme from thee, I had rather be hewn in an hundred pieces.\" Sir Marhaus\nanswered no word, but went his way sore groaning.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnon Sir Marhaus and his fellowship departed into Ireland. And as\nsoon as he came to the king his brother he let search his wounds. And\nwhen his head was searched, a piece of Sir Tristram's sword was found\ntherein, and might never be had out of his head for no surgeons, and so\nhe died of Sir Tristram's 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, and\nwhen he was come to the land, King Mark took him in both his arms, and\nthe king and Sir Dinas the seneschal led Sir Tristram into the castle\nof Tintagil, and then were his wounds searched in the best manner, and\nlaid in bed. And when King Mark saw all his wounds, he wept right\nheartily, and so did all his lords.\n\n\"So God me help,\" said King Mark, \"I would not for all my lands that my\nnephew died.\"\n\nSo Sir Tristram lay there a month and more, and was like to have died\nof the stroke that Sir Marhaus had given him first with his spear. For,\nas the French book saith, that spear's head was envenomed, that Sir\nTristram might not be whole thereof. Then was King Mark and all his\nbarons passing heavy, for they deemed none other but that Sir Tristram\nshould not recover. So the king let send after all manner of leeches\nand surgeons, both men and women, and there was none that would warrant\nhim his life. Then came there a lady, which was a full wise lady, and\nshe said plainly unto King Mark and unto Sir Tristram and unto all the\nbarons, that he should never be whole, but if Sir Tristram went into\nthe same country that the venom came from, and in that country should\nhe be holpen or else never. When King Mark had well heard what the\nlady said, forthwith he let purvey for Sir Tristram a fair vessel, and\nwell victualled it, and therein was put Sir Tristram and Gouvernail\nwith him, and Sir Tristram took his harp with him, and so he was put\nto sea, for to sail into Ireland, and so by good fortune he arrived up\ninto Ireland even fast by a castle where the king and the queen were,\nand at his arriving he sat and harped in his bed a merry lay, such one\nhad they never heard in Ireland afore that time. And when it was told\nthe king and the queen of such a knight that was such a harper, anon\nthe king sent for him, and let search his wound, and then he asked him\nwhat was his name. He answered and said,\n\n\"I am of the country of Lyonesse, and my name is Tramtrist, [and I\nhave] been wounded in a battle as I fought for a lady's right.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said King Anguish, \"ye shall have all the help in this land\nthat ye may have here. But I let you wit in Cornwall I had a great loss\nas ever had king, for there I lost the best knight of the world, his\nname was Marhaus, a full noble knight, and knight of the Table Round;\"\nand there he told Sir Tristram wherefore Sir Marhaus was slain. Sir\nTristram made semblant [_like_] as he had been sorry, and better knew\nhe how it was than the king.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen the king for great favour made Tramtrist to be put in his\ndaughter's ward and keeping, because she was a noble surgeon. And\nwhen she had searched his wound, she found in the bottom of his wound\nthat there was poison, and within a little while she healed him, and\ntherefore Tramtrist cast great love to la Belle Isolde, for she was\nat that time the fairest lady of the world, and then Sir Tramtrist\n[taught] her to harp, and she began to have a great fantasy unto Sir\nTramtrist. And at that time Sir Palamides, that was a Saracen, was in\nthat country, and was well cherished both of the king and the queen,\nand he proffered her many great gifts, for he loved her passing well.\nAnd all that espied right well Sir Tramtrist, and full well he knew Sir\nPalamides for a noble knight and a mighty man.\n\nThus was there great envy between Sir Tramtrist and Sir Palamides.\nThen it befell that King Anguish let cry a great joust and a great\ntournament for a lady which was called the lady of the lawns, and she\nwas nigh cousin unto the king, and what man that should win her should\nwed her three days after, and have all her lands. This cry was made in\nEngland, Wales, and Scotland, and also in France and in Britain. It\nbefell upon a day la Belle Isolde came to Sir Tramtrist and told him of\nthis tournament.\n\n\"Ah! Tramtrist,\" said la Belle Isolde, \"why will ye not have to do at\nthat tournament? well I wot Sir Palamides will be there and do what he\nmay, and therefore, Sir Tramtrist, I pray you to be there, for else Sir\nPalamides is like to win the degree.\"\n\n\"Madam,\" said Sir Tramtrist, \"as for that he may do so, for he is a\nproved knight, and I am but a young knight and late made, and the\nfirst battle that I did it mishapped me to be sore wounded as ye see.\nBut and I wist [_if I knew_] that ye would be my better lady, at that\ntournament I will be, so that ye will keep my counsel, and let no\ncreature have knowledge that I shall joust but yourself, and such as\nye will to keep your counsel; my poor person shall I jeopard there for\nyour sake, that peradventure Sir Palamides shall know when that I come.\"\n\n\"Thereto,\" said la Belle Isolde, \"do your best, and as I can,\" said la\nBelle Isolde, \"I shall purvey horse and armor for you at my devise.\"\n\n\"As ye will so be it,\" said Sir Tramtrist, \"I will be at your\ncommandment.\"\n\nSo at the day of jousts there came Sir Palamides with a black shield,\nand he overthrew many knights, that all the people had marvel of him.\nFor he put to the worse Sir Gawaine, Gaheris, Agravaine, Bagdemagus,\nKay, Dodinas le Savage, Sagramor le Desirous, Gumret le Petit, and\nGriflet le Fise de Dieu. All these the first day Sir Palamides strake\ndown to the earth. And then all manner of knights were adread of Sir\nPalamides, and many called him the knight with the black shield. So\nthat day Sir Palamides had great worship. Then came King Anguish unto\nTramtrist and asked him why he would not joust.\n\n\"Sir,\" said he, \"I was but late hurt, and as yet I dare not adventure\nme.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd so on the morn Sir Palamides made him ready to come into the field\nas he did the first day. And there he smote down the king with the\nhundred knights, and the King of Scotland. Then had la Belle Isolde\nordained and well arrayed Sir Tramtrist in white horse and harness.\nAnd right so she let put him out at a privy postern, and so he came\ninto the field as it had been a bright angel. And anon Sir Palamides\nespied him, and therewith he feutered [_laid in rest_] a spear unto Sir\nTramtrist, and he again unto him. And there Sir Tristram smote down Sir\nPalamides unto the earth. And then there was a great noise of people:\nsome said Sir Palamides had a fall, some said the knight with the black\nshield had a fall. And wit you well la Belle Isolde was passing glad.\nAnd then Sir Gawaine and his fellows nine had marvel what knight it\nmight be that had smitten down Sir Palamides. Then would there none\njoust with Tramtrist, but all that were there forsook him, most and\nleast. And when Sir Palamides had received this fall, wit ye well he\nwas sore ashamed; and as privily as he might he withdrew him out of\nthe field. All that espied Sir Tristram, and lightly he rode after Sir\nPalamides, and overtook him, and bade him turn, for better he would\nassay him or ever he departed. Then Sir Palamides turned him, and\neither lashed at other with their swords. But at the first stroke Sir\nTristram smote down Palamides, and gave him such a stroke upon the head\nthat he fell to the earth. So then Tristram bade yield him and do his\ncommandment, or else he would slay him. And when Sir Palamides beheld\nhis countenance, he dread sore his buffets, so that he granted him all\nhis asking.\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram unto him, \"this shall be your charge. First,\nupon pain of your life, that ye forsake my lady la Belle Isolde, and in\nno manner of wise that ye draw unto her, and also these twelve months\nand a day that ye bear none armor nor in like wise no harness of war.\nNow promise me this, or here shalt thou die.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Palamides, \"now am I for ever shamed.\"\n\nAnd then he swore as Sir Tristram had commanded him. Then for great\ndespite and anger, Sir Palamides cut off his harness and threw it away.\n\nAnd then Sir Tristram rode privily unto the postern where la Belle\nIsolde kept him, and then she made him good cheer, and thanked God of\nhis good speed.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThus was Sir Tramtrist long there well cherished with the king and\nqueen and namely [_likewise_] with la Belle Isolde. So upon a day the\nqueen and la Belle Isolde made a bayne [_bath_] for Sir Tramtrist, and\nwhen he was in his bayne, the queen and her daughter la Belle Isolde\nroamed up and down in the chamber, and there whiles Gouvernail and\nHebes attended upon Tramtrist, and the queen beheld his sword whereas\nit lay upon his bed. And then by unhap the queen drew out his sword\nand beheld it a long while, and both they thought it a passing fair\nsword, but within a foot and an half of the point there was a great\npiece broken out of the edge. And when the queen espied that gap in\nthe sword, she remembered of a piece of a sword that was found in the\nbrain-pan of the good knight Sir Marhaus that was her brother.\n\n\"Alas!\" said she then to her daughter la Belle Isolde. \"This is the\nsame traitorous knight that slew my brother thine uncle.\"\n\nWhen la Belle Isolde heard her say so, she was then passing sore\nabashed, for she loved Sir Tramtrist passingly well, and right well she\nknew the cruelness of her mother the queen. And so anon therewith the\nqueen went in all the haste that she might unto her own chamber, and\nthen she sought in a coffer that she had, and there she found and took\nout the piece of the sword that was taken out of her brother's head Sir\nMarhaus, after that he was dead. And then anon she ran with the same\npiece of iron unto Sir Tramtrist's sword which lay upon the bed, and\nso when she put the same piece of steel and iron unto the same sword,\nit was then as fit as ever it might be when it was first new broken.\nAnd so forthwith the queen caught that sword fiercely in her hand, and\nwith all her might she ran straight unto Tramtrist where he sat in a\nbayne, and there she had run him through had not Sir Hebes gotten her\nin his arms and pulled the sword from her, and else she had thrust him\nthrough. When she was thus letted of her evil will, she ran to King\nAnguish her husband, and fell on her knees before him, saying, \"Oh, my\nlord and husband, here have ye in your house that traitor knight that\nslew my brother and your servant, that noble knight Sir Marhaus.\"\n\n\"Who is that,\" said King Anguish, \"and where is he?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"it is Sir Tramtrist, the same knight that my daughter\nhath healed.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said King Anguish, \"therefore am I right neavy, for he is a\nfull noble knight as ever I saw in field, but I charge you,\" said the\nking to the queen, \"that ye have not to do with this knight, but let me\ndeal with him.\"\n\nThen the king went into the chamber to Sir Tramtrist, that then was\ngone unto his chamber, and then the king found him all armed, ready\nto mount upon his horse. And when the king saw him all ready armed to\nmount on horseback, the king said, \"Nay, Tramtrist, it will not avail\nthee to compare against me. But thus much will I do for my worship,\nand for thy love: in so much as thou art within this court, it were no\nworship for me to slay thee, therefore upon this condition I will give\nthee leave to depart from this court in safety, so that thou wilt tell\nme who is thy father, and what is thy name, and if thou slew my brother\nSir Marhaus.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Tristram, \"now shall I tell you all the truth; my\nfather's name is Meliodas, King of Lyonesse, and my mother hight\nElizabeth, that was sister unto King Mark of Cornwall, and my mother\ndied of me in the forest, and because thereof she commanded or she died\nthat when I were christened that they should name me Tristram, and\nbecause I would not be known in this country, I turned my name, and let\ncall me Tramtrist; and for the truage of Cornwall, I fought for mine\nuncle's sake, and for the right of Cornwall that ye had possessed many\nyears. And wit ye well,\" said Tristram unto the king, \"I did the battle\nfor the love of mine uncle King Mark, and for the love of the country\nof Cornwall, and for to increase mine honor. For that same day that I\nfought with Sir Marhaus I was made knight, and never or then did I know\nbattle with no knight, and from me he went alive, and left his shield\nand his sword behind.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said the king, \"I may not say but ye did as a knight should,\nand it was your part to do for your quarrel, and to increase your\nworship as a knight should; howbeit I may not maintain you in this\ncountry with my worship, unless that I should displease my barons, and\nmy wife, and her kin.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Tristram, \"I thank you of your good lordship that I have\nhad with you here, and the great goodness my lady your daughter hath\nshowed me, and therefore,\" said Sir Tristram, \"it may so happen that ye\nshall win more by my life than by my death, for in the parts of England\nit may happen I may do you service at some season that ye shall be glad\nthat ever ye showed me your good lordship. With more I promise you as I\nam true knight, that in all places I shall be my lady your daughter's\nservant and knight in right and in wrong, and I shall never fail her to\ndo as much as a knight may do. Also I beseech your good grace that I\nmay take my leave at my lady your daughter, and at all the barons and\nknights.\"\n\n\"I will well,\" said the king.\n\nThen Sir Tristram went unto la Belle Isolde, and took his leave of her.\nAnd then he told her all, what he was, and how he had changed his name\nbecause he would not be known, and how a lady told him that he should\nnever be whole till he came into this country where the poison was\nmade: \"Wherethrough I was near my death, had not your ladyship been.\"\n\n\"Oh, gentle knight,\" said la Belle Isolde, \"full woe am I of thy\ndeparting, for I saw never man that I owed so good will to.\" And\ntherewithal she wept heartily.\n\n\"Madam,\" said Sir Tristram, \"ye shall understand that my name is Sir\nTristram de Lyonesse, and I promise you faithfully that I shall be all\nthe days of my life your knight.\"\n\n\"Sir, gramercy,\" said la Belle Isolde, \"and there again I promise you\nthat I shall not be married of this seven year but if it be by your\nassent, and to whom ye will I shall be married, him shall I have, if he\nwill have me, if ye will consent.\"\n\nAnd then Sir Tristram gave her a ring, and she gave him another, and\ntherewith he departed from her, leaving her making full great moan and\nlamentation, and he went straight unto the court among all the barons,\nand there he took his leave of most and least, and openly among them\nall he said: \"Fair lords, now it is so that I must depart from hence,\nif there be any man here that I have offended unto, or that any man\nbe with me grieved, let him complain here before me or I depart from\nhence, and I shall amend it unto my power. And if there be any that\nwill proffer me wrong, or to say of me wrong or shame behind my back,\nsay it now or never, and here is my body to make it good, body against\nbody.\"\n\nAnd all they stood still, there was not one that would say one word,\nyet were there some knights which were of the queen's blood and of Sir\nMarhaus' blood, but they would not meddle with him.\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 and in\nhis prosperity, there came tidings that Sir Tristram was arrived and\nwhole of his wound, whereof King Mark was passing glad, and so were\nall the barons. 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 unto Sir Tristram. So then by the license [leave]\nof King Meliodas his father, he returned again unto the court of King\nMark, and there he lived in great joy long time, until at the last\nthere befell a jealousy and an unkindness between King Mark and Sir\nTristram.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen King Mark cast always in his heart how he might destroy Sir\nTristram. And then he imagined in himself to send Sir Tristram\ninto Ireland for la Belle Isolde. For Sir Tristram had so praised\nher beauty and her goodness that King Mark said he would wed her,\nwhereupon he prayed Sir Tristram to take his way into Ireland for him\non message. And all this was done to the intent to slay Sir Tristram.\nNotwithstanding, Sir Tristram would not refuse the message for no\ndanger nor peril that might fall for the pleasure of his uncle, but to\ngo he made him ready in the most goodliest wise that might be devised.\nSo Sir Tristram departed and took the sea with all his fellowship. And\nanon as he was in the broad sea, a tempest took him and his fellowship\nand drove them back into the coast of England, and there they arrived\nfast by Camelot, and full fain they were to take the land. And when\nthey were landed Sir Tristram set up his pavilion upon the land of\nCamelot, and there he let hang his shield upon the pavilion.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen when Sir Tristram was in his rich pavilion, Gouvernail his man\ncame and told him how King Anguish of Ireland was come there, and how\nhe was put in great distress; and there Gouvernail told to Sir Tristram\nhow King Anguish of Ireland was summoned and accused of murder.\n\n\"So God me help,\" 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 King Arthur's court dare do no battle with Sir Blamor de\nGanis; and for to win the love of the King of Ireland, I shall take the\nbattle upon me; and therefore, Gouvernail, I charge thee to bring me to\nthe king.\"\n\nAnd so Gouvernail went unto King Anguish of Ireland, and saluted him\nfair. The king welcomed him, and asked him what he would.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Gouvernail, \"here is a knight near hand which desireth to\nspeak with you; and he bade me say that he would do you service.\"\n\n\"What knight is he?\" said the king.\n\n\"Sir,\" said he, \"it is Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, that for the good\ngrace that ye showed unto him in your land, he will reward you in this\ncountry.\"\n\n\"Come on, good fellow,\" said the king, \"with me, and show me Sir\nTristram.\"\n\nSo the king took a little hackney and a little company with him, until\nhe came unto Sir Tristram's pavilion. And when Sir Tristram saw King\nAnguish, he ran unto him, and would have holden his stirrup. But anon\nthe king leapt lightly from his horse, and either halsed [_embraced_]\nother in their arms.\n\n\"My gracious lord,\" said Sir Tristram, \"gramercy of your great goodness\nthat ye showed to me in your marches and lands. And at that time I\npromised you to do you service and ever it lay in my power.\"\n\n\"Ah, worshipful knight,\" said the king unto Sir Tristram, \"now have I\ngreat need of you; for never had I so great need of no knight's help.\"\n\n\"How so, my good lord?\" said Sir Tristram.\n\n\"I shall tell you,\" said King Anguish; \"I am summoned and appealed\nfrom my country for the death of a knight that was kin unto the good\nknight Sir Launcelot, wherefore Sir Blamor de Ganis, brother to Sir\nBleoberis, hath appealed me to fight with him, other [_or else_] to\nfind a knight in my stead. And well I wot,\" said the king, \"these that\nare come of King Ban's blood, as Sir Launcelot and these other, are\npassing good knights, and hard men for to win in battle as any that I\nknow now living.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Tristram, \"for the good lordship ye showed me in\nIreland, and for my lady your daughter's sake, la Belle Isolde, I\nwill take the battle for you upon this condition that ye shall grant\nme two things: that one is, that ye shall swear to me that ye are in\nthe right, that ye were never consenting to the knight's death; sir,\nthen,\" said Sir Tristram, \"when that I have done this battle, if God\ngive me grace that I speed, that ye shall give me a reward, what thing\nreasonable that I will ask of you.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said the king, \"ye shall have whatsoever ye will ask.\"\n\n\"It is well said,\" said Sir Tristram.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen were the lists made ready, and Sir Tristram and Sir Blamor de\nGanis, in the presence of the kings, judges, and knights, feutered\n[_laid in rest_] their spears and came together as it had been thunder,\nand there Sir Tristram through great might smote down Sir Blamor and\nhis horse to the earth. Then anon Sir Blamor avoided his horse, and\npulled out his sword and threw his shield afore him, and bade Sir\nTristram alight; \"for though an horse hath failed me, I trust the earth\nwill not fail me.\"\n\nAnd then Sir Tristram alighted and dressed him unto battle, and there\nthey lashed together strongly as racing and tracing, foining and\ndashing many sad strokes, that the kings and knights had great wonder\nthat they might stand, for ever they fought like two wild men, so\nthat there were never knights seen fight more fiercely than they did;\nfor Sir Blamor was so hasty that he would have no rest, that all men\nwondered that they had breath to stand on their feet; all the place\nwas bloody that they fought in. And at the last Sir Tristram smote Sir\nBlamor such a buffet upon the helm that he fell down upon his side, and\nSir Tristram stood and beheld him.\n\nThen when Sir Blamor might speak, he said thus:--\n\n\"Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, I require thee, as thou art a noble knight,\nand the best knight that ever I found, that thou wilt slay me out of\nhand [_straightway_], for I had liever 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 [_of\nsurrender_]; and therefore, if thou dare slay me, slay me, I require\nthee.\"\n\nAnd when Sir Tristram heard him say so knightly, he wist not what to\ndo with him. And then Sir Tristram started aback and went to the kings\nwhich were judges; and there he kneeled down before them, and besought\nthem for their worship, and for King Arthur and Sir Launcelot's sake,\nthat they would take this matter in their hands:\n\n\"For, fair lords,\" said Sir Tristram, \"it were shame and pity that this\nnoble knight that yonder lieth should be slain, for ye may well hear\nthat shamed he will not be, and I pray to God that he never be slain\nnor shamed for me. And as for the king for whom I do this battle, I\nshall require him, as I am his true champion and true knight in this\nfield, that he will have mercy upon this good knight.\"\n\n\"So God me help,\" said King Anguish to Sir Tristram, \"I will be ruled\nfor your sake as ye will have me. For I know you for my true knight,\nand therefore I will heartily pray the kings that be here as judges for\nto take it into their hands.\"\n\nAnd then the kings which were judges called Sir Bleoberis unto them and\ndemanded his advice.\n\n\"My lord,\" said Sir Bleoberis, \"though that my brother be beaten and\nboth the worse through might of arms, I dare well say though Sir\nTristram hath beaten his body he hath not beaten his heart; I thank\nGod he is not shamed this day. And rather than he should be shamed, I\nrequire you,\" said Sir Bleoberis, \"let Sir Tristram slay him out of\nhand [_immediately_].\"\n\n\"It shall not be so,\" said the kings, \"for his adverse party, both the\nking and the champion, hath pity of Sir Blamor's knighthood.\"\n\n\"My lords,\" said Sir Bleoberis, \"I will right well as ye will.\"\n\nThen the kings called to them the King of Ireland, and found him good\nand treatable [_willing to agree_]. And then by all their advices Sir\nTristram and Sir Bleoberis took up Sir Blamor. And the two brethren\nwere accorded with King Anguish; and kissed each other and were made\nfriends for ever. And then Sir Blamor and Sir Tristram kissed each\nother, and then the two brethren made their oaths that they would\nnever fight with Sir Tristram. And Sir Tristram made the same oath.\nAnd for that gentle battle all the blood of Sir Launcelot loved Sir\nTristram for ever more. Then King Anguish and Sir Tristram took their\nleave and sailed into Ireland with great joy and nobleness. So when\nthey were in Ireland, the king let make it be known throughout all the\nland how and in what manner Sir Tristram had done for him. And then the\nqueen and all the estates that were there made as much of him as ever\nthey might make; but the joy that la Belle Isolde made of Sir Tristram,\nthat might no tongue tell, for of men living she loved him most.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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 fail.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Tristram, \"now is it time, this is all that I will\ndesire, that ye will give me la Belle Isolde, your daughter, not for\nmyself, but for mine uncle King Mark, that shall have her to wife, for\nso have I promised him.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said the king, \"I had liever than all the land that I have ye\nwould wed her yourself.\"\n\n\"Sir, and I did, then were I shamed for ever in this world, and false\nof my promise. Therefore,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I pray you hold your\npromise that ye promised me, for this is my desire, that ye will give\nme la Belle Isolde to go with me into Cornwall, for to be wedded to\nKing Mark mine uncle.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said King Anguish, \"ye shall have her with you, to do\nwith her what it please you, that is for to say if that ye list to wed\nher yourself, that is to me lievest, and if ye will give her unto King\nMark your uncle, that is in your choice.\"\n\nSo to make a short conclusion, la Belle Isolde was made ready to go\nwith Sir Tristram, and dame Bragwaine went with her for her chief\ngentlewoman, with many other.\n\nAnd anon they were richly wedded with great nobleness. But ever Sir\nTristram and la Belle Isolde loved ever together.\n\nThen was there great jousts and great tourneying, and many lords and\nladies were at that feast, and Sir Tristram was most praised of all\nother.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Then, as time passed by, Sir Tristram grieved sorely in his heart that\nla Belle Isolde was wedded to King Mark, till that he became as a wood\nman, and mounted his horse and rode forth into the forest away from\nTintagil. So Sir Palamides sent a damsel to inquire after Sir Tristram.]\n\nAnd she went to the lady of [a certain] castle, and told her of the\nmisadventure of Sir Tristram.\n\n\"Alas,\" said the lady of that castle, \"where is my lord Sir Tristram?\"\n\n\"Right here by your castle,\" said the damsel.\n\n\"In good time,\" said the lady, \"is he so nigh me: he shall have meat\nand drink of the best, and a harp I have of his whereupon he taught\nme,--for of goodly harping he beareth the prize in the world.\"\n\nSo this lady and the damsel brought him meat and drink, but he eat\nlittle thereof. Then upon a night he put his horse from him, and\nthen he unlaced his armor, and then Sir Tristram would go into the\nwilderness, and burst down the trees and boughs; and otherwhile, when\nhe found the harp that the lady sent him, then would he harp and play\nthereupon and weep together. And sometime when Sir Tristram was in the\nwood, that the lady wist not where he was, then would she sit her down\nand play upon that harp; then would Sir Tristram come to that harp and\nhearken thereto, and sometime he would harp himself. Thus he there\nendured a quarter of a year. Then at the last he ran his way, and she\nwist not where he was become. And then was he naked, and waxed lean\nand poor of flesh, and so he fell into the fellowship of herdmen and\nshepherds, and daily they would give him of their meat and drink. And\nwhen he did any shrewd deed they would beat him with rods, and so they\nclipped him with shears and made him like a fool.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd upon a day Sir Dagonet, King Arthur's fool, came into Cornwall,\nwith two squires with him, and as they rode through the forest they\ncame by a fair well where Sir Tristram was wont to be, and the weather\nwas hot, and they alighted to drink of that well, and in the meanwhile\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 here an half year naked, and would never come in town nor\nvillage.\n\nAnd there was a giant in that country that hight Tauleas, and for\nfear of Sir Tristram more than seven years he durst not much go out at\nlarge, but for the most part he kept him in a sure castle of his own.\nAnd so this Sir Tauleas heard tell that Sir Tristram was dead by the\nnoise of the court of King Mark, and then Sir Tauleas went daily at\nlarge. And so it happened upon a day he came to the herdmen wandering\nand lingering, and there he set him down to rest among them. The\nmeanwhile there came a knight of Cornwall that led a lady with him,\nand his name was Sir Dinant. And when the giant saw him, he went from\nthe herdmen and hid him under a tree. And so the knight came to the\nwell, and there he alighted to rest him. And as soon as he was from his\nhorse, the giant Sir Tauleas came between the knight and his horse, and\nleaped upon him. So forthwith he rode unto Sir Dinant, and took him by\nthe collar, and drew him before him on his horse, and there would have\nstricken off his head. Then the herdmen said unto Sir Tristram, \"Help\nyonder knight.\"\n\n\"Help ye him,\" said Sir Tristram.\n\n\"We dare not,\" said the herdmen.\n\nThen Sir Tristram was ware of the sword of the knight where it lay, and\nthither he ran and took up the sword, and smote off Sir Tauleas' head,\nand so went his way to the herdmen again.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen the knight took up the giant's 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.\n\n\"Where had ye this adventure?\" said King Mark.\n\n\"Forsooth,\" said Sir Dinant, \"at the fair fountain in your forest,\nwhere many adventurous knights meet, and there is the mad man.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said King Mark, \"I will see that mad man.\"\n\nSo within a day or two King Mark commanded his knights and his hunters\nthat they should be ready on the morrow for to hunt. And on the morrow\nhe went unto the forest. And when the king came to the well, he found\nthere lying by that well a fair naked man, and a sword by him. Then the\nking blew and screked [_called shrilly_] and therewith his knights came\nto him. And then the king commanded his knights to take that naked man\nwith fairness, \"and bring him to my castle.\" So they did softly and\nfair, and cast mantles upon Sir Tristram, and so led him unto Tintagil;\nand there they bathed him and washed him, and gave him hot suppings,\ntill they had brought him well to his remembrance. But all this while\nthere was no creature that knew Sir Tristram, nor what man he was. So\nit fell upon a day that the queen la Belle Isolde heard of such a man\nthat ran naked in the forest, and how the king had brought him home\nto the court. Then la Belle Isolde called unto her dame Bragwaine,\nand said, \"Come on with me, for we will go see this man that my lord\nbrought from the forest the last day.\"\n\nSo they passed forth, and asked where was the sick man. And then a\nsquire told the queen that he was in the garden taking his rest,\nand reposing him against the sun. So when the queen looked upon Sir\nTristram she was not remembered of [_did not remember_] him. But\never she said unto dame Bragwaine, \"Me seemeth I should have seen him\nheretofore in many places.\"\n\nBut as soon as Sir Tristram saw her he knew her well enough, and then\nhe turned away his visage and wept. Then the queen had always a little\nbrachet with her, that Sir Tristram gave her the first time that ever\nshe came into Cornwall, and never would that brachet depart from her,\nbut if Sir Tristram was nigh there as was la Belle Isolde; and this\nbrachet was sent from the king's daughter of France unto Sir Tristram\nfor great love. And anon as this little brachet felt a savor of Sir\nTristram, she leaped upon him, and licked his learis [_cheeks_] and his\nears, and then she whined and quested, and she smelled at his feet and\nat his hands, and on all parts of his body that she might come to.\n\n\"Ah, my lady,\" said dame Bragwaine unto la Belle Isolde, \"alas, alas!\"\nsaid she, \"I see it is mine own lord Sir Tristram.\"\n\nAnd thereupon Isolde fell down in a sowne [_swoon_], and so lay a great\nwhile; and when she might speak, she said: \"My lord Sir Tristram,\nblessed be God ye have your life, and now I am sure ye shall be\ndiscovered by this little brachet, for she will never leave you; and\nalso I am sure that as soon as my lord King Mark shall know you, he\nwill banish you out of the country of Cornwall, or else he will destroy\nyou. For God's sake, mine own lord, grant King Mark his will, and then\ndraw you unto the court of King Arthur, for there are ye beloved.\"\n\nThen la Belle Isolde departed, but the brachet would not from him. And\ntherewith came King Mark, and the brachet set upon him, and bayed at\nthem all. And therewith Sir Andret spake and said: \"Sir, this is Sir\nTristram, I see by the brachet.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the king, \"I cannot suppose that it is he.\"\n\nSo the king asked him upon his faith what he was, and what was his name.\n\n\"So God help,\" said he, \"my name is Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, and now\nye may do with me what ye list.\"\n\nAnd so, by the advice of them all, Sir Tristram was banished out of the\ncountry of Cornwall for ten year, and thereupon he took his oath.\n\nAnd then were many barons brought him into his ship. And when Sir\nTristram was in the ship, he said thus: \"Greet well King Mark and all\nmine enemies, and tell them I will come again when I may. And well I\nam rewarded for the fighting with Sir Marhaus, and delivering all the\ncountry from servage [_subjection_]. And well I am rewarded for the\nfetching and costs of la Belle Isolde out of Ireland, and the danger\nthat I was in first and last, and by the way coming home what danger I\nhad to bring again Queen Isolde from the castle. And well I am rewarded\nwhen I fought with Sir Bleoberis for Sir Segwarides' wife. And well am\nI rewarded when I fought with Sir Blamor de Ganis for King Anguish,\nfather unto la Belle Isolde. And well am I rewarded when I smote down\nthe good knight Sir Lamorak de Galis at King Mark's request. And well\nam I rewarded when I fought with the king with the hundred knights,\nand the 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 moe deeds have I\ndone for him, and now have I my guerdon. And tell the King Mark that\nmany noble knights of the Round Table have spared the barons of this\ncountry for my sake. Also I am not well rewarded when I fought with\nthe good knight Sir Palamides, and rescued Queen Isolde from him. And\nat that time King Mark said before all his barons I should have been\nbetter rewarded.\" And therewith he took the sea.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[In those days was holden a great tournament at the Castle of Maidens,\nand thereto came Sir Tristram, for King Arthur was there, with his\nknights, and a goodly press of other kings, lords and ladies. And Sir\nTristram let make him a black shield, and therewith was he ever to be\nknown in the midst of the knights. And Sir Tristram overthrew eleven\nknights of Sir Launcelot's kin in one day, and jousted with King Arthur\nand with Sir Launcelot in such wise that all men wondered. And at the\nlast Sir Tristram was sore wounded, and rode away into a forest. But\nSir Launcelot held away the stour [_fight_] like as a man enraged that\ntook no heed to himself.] And because Sir Launcelot was the last in\nthe field the prize was given him. But Sir Launcelot would neither for\nking, queen, nor knight have the prize; but when the cry was cried\nthrough the field, \"Sir Launcelot. Sir Launcelot, hath won the field\nthis day!\" Sir Launcelot let make another cry contrary to that cry:\n\"Sir Tristram hath won the field, for he began first, and last he hath\nendured, and so hath he done the first day, the second, and the third\nday.\"\n\n[And so King Arthur and Sir Launcelot and more knights rode forth for\nto find Sir Tristram. And after many adventures it happened that Sir\nLauncelot passed by the tomb of Sir Lanceor (him that was slain by\nBalin) and his lady Colombe. And by that same tomb came Sir Tristram:\nand neither knew the other, but Sir Tristram weened it to have been\nSir Palamides. Then they two fought, and each wounded other wonderly\nsore, that the blood ran out upon the grass. And thus they fought the\nspace of four hours. And at the last either knew other. Then cried Sir\nLauncelot,] \"Oh, what adventure is befallen me!\"\n\nAnd therewith Sir Launcelot kneeled down and yielded him up his\nsword. And therewithal Sir Tristram kneeled adown, and yielded him up\nhis sword. And so either gave other the degree. And then they both\nforthwithal went to the stone, and set them down upen it, and took off\ntheir helms to cool them, and either kissed other an hundred times. And\nthen anon after they took their helms and rode to Camelot. And there\nthey met with Sir Gawaine and with Sir Gaheris that had made promise\nto Arthur never to come again to the court till they had brought Sir\nTristram with them.\n\nThen King Arthur took Sir Tristram by the hand, and led him unto the\nRound Table. Then came Queen Guenever, and many ladies with her, and\nall these ladies said, all with one voice, \"Welcome, Sir Tristram;\"\n\"welcome,\" said the damsels; \"welcome,\" said the knights; \"welcome,\"\nsaid King Arthur, \"for one of the best knights and gentlest of the\nworld, and knight of the most worship; for of all manner of hunting\nthou bearest the prize, and of all measures of blowing thou art the\nbeginner, 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 King Arthur, \"ye are right heartily welcome unto\nthis court. And also I pray you,\" said King Arthur, \"grant me a boon.\"\n\n\"It shall be at your commandment,\" said Sir Tristram.\n\n\"Well,\" said King Arthur, \"I will desire of you that ye will abide in\nmy court.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Tristram, \"thereto am I loth, for I have to do in many\ncountries.\"\n\n\"Not so,\" said King Arthur, \"ye have promised it me, ye may not say\nnay.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I will as ye will.\"\n\nThen went King Arthur unto the sieges about the Round Table, and looked\nin every siege which were void that lacked knights. And the king then\nsaw in the siege of Marhaus letters that said:--\n\n\"This is the siege of the noblest knight Sir Tristram.\"\n\nAnd then King Arthur made Sir Tristram knight of the Round Table, with\ngreat nobleness and great feast as might be thought.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen King Mark had great despite of the renown of Sir Tristram. So\nhe sent on his part men to espy what deeds he did. And when the\nmessengers were come home, they told the truth as they heard, that he\npassed all other knights but if it were the noble knight Sir Launcelot.\nThen in great despite he took with him two good knights and two\nsquires, and disguised himself, and took his way into England, to the\nintent to slay him.\n\n[And it happened that Sir Dinadan met King Mark, and began to mock\nhim for a Cornish knight of no worship. And] 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 Ozanna le Cure Hardy; the fourth was Uwaine\nles Adventurous; 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 joust with\none of them.\n\n\"Lo,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"yonder are knights errant that will joust with\nus.\"\n\n\"God forbid,\" said King Mark, \"for they be six, and we but two.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"let us not spare, for I will assay\nthe foremost.\"\n\nAnd therewith he made him ready. When King Mark saw him do so, as fast\nas Sir Dinadan rode toward them King Mark rode from them with all his\nmenial company. So when Sir Dinadan saw King Mark was gone, he set the\nspear out of the rest, and threw his shield upon his back, and came\nriding to the fellowship of the Table Round. And anon Sir Uwaine knew\nSir Dinadan, and welcomed him, and so did all his fellowship.\n\n\"What knight is that,\" said Sir Brandiles, \"that so suddenly departed\nfrom you, and rode over yonder field?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said he, \"it was a knight of Cornwall, and the most horrible\ncoward that ever bestrode horse.\"\n\n\"What is his name?\" said all the knights.\n\n\"I wot not,\" said Sir Dinadan.\n\nSaid Sir Griflet, \"Here have I brought Sir Dagonet, King Arthur's fool,\nthat is the best fellow and the merriest in the world.\"\n\n[Then said Sir Mordred,] \"Put my shield and my harness upon Sir\nDagonet, and let him set upon the Cornish knight.\"\n\n\"That shall be done,\" said Sir Dagonet, \"by my faith.\"\n\nThen anon was Dagonet armed in Mordred's harness and his shield, and he\nwas set on a great horse and a spear in his hand.\n\n\"Now,\" said Dagonet, \"show me the knight, and I trow I shall bear him\ndown.\"\n\nSo all these knights rode to a woodside, and abode till King Mark came\nby the way. Then they put forth Sir Dagonet, and he came on all the\nwhile his horse might run, straight upon King Mark. And when he came\nnigh King Mark, he cried as he were wood, and said, \"Keep thee, knight\nof Cornwall, for I will slay thee.\"\n\nAnon as King Mark beheld his shield he said to himself, \"Yonder is Sir\nLauncelot: alas, now am I destroyed.\"\n\nAnd therewithal he made his horse to run as fast as it might through\nthick and thin. And ever Sir Dagonet followed King Mark crying and\nrating him as a wood man through a great forest. When Sir Uwaine and\nSir Brandiles saw Dagonet so chase King Mark, they laughed all as they\nwere wood. And then they took their horses and rode after to see how\nSir Dagonet sped. For they would not for no good that Sir Dagonet were\nhurt, for King Arthur loved him passing well, and made him knight with\nhis own hands.\n\nWhen Sir Uwaine and Sir Brandiles with his fellows came to the court of\nKing Arthur, they told the king, Sir Launcelot, and Sir Tristram how\nSir Dagonet the fool chased King Mark through the forest. There was\ngreat laughing and jesting at King Mark and at Sir Dagonet.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nKing Arthur on a day said unto King Mark,--\n\n\"Sir, I pray you to give me a gift that I shall ask you.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said King Mark, \"I will give you whatsoever ye desire, and it be\nin my power.\"\n\n\"Sir, gramercy,\" said King Arthur, \"this I will ask you, that ye be a\ngood lord unto Sir Tristram, for he is a man of great honor; and that\nye will take him with you into Cornwall, and let him see his friends,\nand there cherish him for my sake.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said King Mark, \"I promise you by the faith of my body, and by\nthe faith I owe to God and to you, I shall worship him for your sake in\nall that I can or may.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Arthur, \"and I will forgive you all the evil will that\never I owed you, and so be that ye swear that upon a book afore me.\"\n\n\"With a good will,\" said King Mark.\n\nAnd so 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\nit proved after, for he put Sir Tristram in prison, and cowardly\nwould have slain him. Then soon after King Mark took his leave to\nride into Cornwall, and Sir Tristram made him ready to ride with him,\nwherefore the most part of the Round Table were wroth and heavy; and\nin especial Sir Launcelot, and Sir Lamorak, and Sir Dinadan were wroth\nout of measure. For well they wist King Mark would slay or destroy Sir\nTristram.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Tristram, that, as he rode on hunting, he met with\nSir Dinadan, that was come into that country for to seek Sir Tristram.\nThen Sir Dinadan told Sir Tristram his name, but Sir Tristram would not\ntell his name; wherefor Sir Dinadan was wroth.\n\n\"For such a foolish knight as ye are,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"I saw but\nlate to-day lying by a well, and he fared as he had slept, and there\nhe lay like a fool grinning and would not speak, and his shield lay by\nhim, and his horse stood by him, and well I wot he was a lover.\"\n\n\"Ah, fair sir,\" said Sir Tristram, \"are ye not a lover?\"\n\n\"Marry, fie upon that craft,\" said Sir Dinadan.\n\n\"That is evil said,\" quoth Sir Tristram, \"for a knight may never be of\nprowess, but if he be a lover.\"\n\n\"It is well said,\" quoth Sir Dinadan; \"now tell me your name, sith ye\nbe a lover, or else I shall do battle with you.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said Sir Tristram, \"it is no reason to fight with me but\nI tell you my name; as for that, my name shall ye not know as at this\ntime.\"\n\n\"Fie for shame,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"art thou a knight and darest not\ntell me thy name? therefore I will fight with thee.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I will be advised, for I will not\nfight but if me list; and if I do battle,\" said Sir Tristram, \"ye are\nnot able for to withstand me.\"\n\n\"Fie on thee, coward,\" said Sir Dinadan.\n\nAnd thus as they still hoved, they saw a knight come riding against\nthem.\n\n\"Lo,\" said Sir Tristram, \"see where cometh a knight riding that will\njoust with you.\"\n\nAnon, as Sir Dinadan beheld him, he said, \"It is the same doting knight\nthat I saw lie by the well neither sleeping nor waking.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I know that knight full well with the\ncovered shield of azure; he is the king's son of Northumberland, his\nname is Epinegris, and he is as great a lover as I know, and he loveth\nthe king's daughter of Wales, a full fair lady. And now I suppose,\"\nsaid Sir Tristram, \"and ye require him he will joust with you; and then\nshall ye prove whether a lover be a better knight or ye that will not\nlove no lady.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"now shalt thou see what I shall do.\"\n\nTherewithal Sir Dinadan spake on high and said, \"Sir knight, make thee\nready to joust with me, for it is the custom of errant knights one to\njoust with the other.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Epinegris, \"is it the rule of you errant knights for to\nmake a knight to joust will he or nill?\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said Dinadan, \"make thee ready, for here is for me.\"\n\nAnd therewithal they spurred their horses, and met together so hard\nthat Epinegris smote down Sir Dinadan. Then Sir Tristram rode to Sir\nDinadan, and said, \"How now? me seemeth the lover hath right well sped.\"\n\n\"Fie upon thee, coward,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"and if thou be any good\nknight, now revenge my shame.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I will not joust as at this time, but take\nyour horse and let us go from hence.\"\n\n\"God defend me,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"from thy fellowship, for I never\nsped well sith I met with thee.\"\n\nAnd so they departed.\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"peradventure I could tell you tidings of\nSir Tristram.\"\n\n\"God defend me,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"from thy fellowship, for Sir\nTristram were much the worse and he were in thy company.\"\n\nAnd then they departed.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Tristram, \"yet it may happen that I shall meet with you\nin other places.\"\n\nAnd so Sir Tristram rode unto Joyous Gard, and there heard in that town\ngreat noise and cry.\n\n\"What meaneth this noise?\" said Sir Tristram.\n\n\"Sir,\" said they, \"here is a knight of this castle which hath been long\namong us, and right now he is slain with two knights, and for none\nother cause but that our knight said that Sir Launcelot was a better\nknight than was Sir Gawaine.\"\n\n\"That was but a simple cause,\" said Sir Tristram, \"to slay a good\nknight because he said well by his master.\"\n\n\"That is but a little remedy unto us,\" said the men of the town; \"for\nif Sir Launcelot had been here, soon we should have been revenged upon\nthose false knights.\"\n\nWhen Sir Tristram heard them say so, incontinent he sent for his shield\nand for his spear, and lightly within a little while he had overtaken\nthem, and bade them turn and amend that they had misdone.\n\n\"What amends wouldst thou have?\" said that one knight.\n\nAnd therewith they took their course, and either met other so hard,\nthat Sir Tristram smote down that knight over his horse's crupper. Then\nthe other knight dressed him unto Sir Tristram, and in the same wise as\nhe served the first knight, so he served him. And then they gat them\nupon their feet as well as they might, and dressed their shields and\ntheir swords to do their battle unto the uttermost.\n\n\"Knights,\" said Sir Tristram, \"ye shall tell me of whence ye are and\nwhat be your names.\"\n\n\"Wit thou well, sir knight,\" said they, \"we fear us not to tell thee\nour names, for my name is Sir Agravaine, and my name is Gaheris,\nbrethren unto the good knight Sir Gawaine, and we be nephews unto King\nArthur.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"for King Arthur's sake I shall let you pass\nas at this time. But it is shame,\" said Sir Tristram, \"that Sir Gawaine\nand ye that be come of so great a blood, that ye four brethren are so\nnamed as ye be. For ye be called the greatest destroyers and murderers\nof good knights that be now in this realm; for it is but as I heard\nsay, that Sir Gawaine and ye slew among you a better knight than ever\nye were, that was the noble knight Sir Lamorak de Galis; and it had\npleased God,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I would I had been by Sir Lamorak at\nhis death.\"\n\n\"Then shouldest thou have gone the same way,\" said Sir Gaheris.\n\n\"Fair knight,\" said Sir Tristram, \"there must have been many more\nknights than ye are.\"\n\nAnd therewithal Sir Tristram departed from them towards Joyous Gard.\nAnd when he was departed they took their horses, and the one said\nto the other, \"We will overtake him and be revenged upon him in the\ndespite of Sir Lamorak.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSo when they had overtaken Sir Tristram, Sir Agravaine bade him, \"Turn,\ntraitor knight.\"\n\n\"That is evil said,\" said Sir Tristram; and therewith he pulled out\nhis sword, and smote Sir Agravaine such a buffet upon the helm that he\ntumbled down off his horse in a swoon, and he had a grievous wound. And\nthen he turned to Gaheris, and Sir Tristram smote his sword and his\nhelm together with such a might that Gaheris fell out of his saddle;\nand so Sir Tristram rode unto Joyous Gard, and there he alighted and\nunarmed him. So Sir Tristram told la Belle Isolde of all his adventure\nas ye have heard tofore. And when she heard him tell of Sir Dinadan,\n\"Sir,\" she said, \"is not that he that made the song by King Mark?\"\n\n\"That 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.\"\n\n\"Alas, sir,\" said she, \"why brought ye not him with you?\"\n\n\"Have ye no care,\" said Sir Tristram, \"for he rideth to seek me in this\ncountry, and therefore he will not away till he have met with me.\"\n\nAnd there Sir Tristram told la Belle Isolde how Sir Dinadan held\nagainst all lovers. Right so there came in a varlet and told Sir\nTristram how there was come an errant knight into the town with such\ncolors upon his shield.\n\n\"That is Sir Dinadan,\" said Sir Tristram. \"Wit ye what ye shall do?\"\nsaid Sir Tristram; \"send ye for him, my lady Isolde, and I will not be\nseen, and ye shall hear the merriest knight that ever ye spake withal,\nand the maddest talker, and I pray you heartily that ye make him good\ncheer.\"\n\nThen anon la Belle Isolde sent into the town, and prayed Sir Dinadan\nthat he would come into the castle and rest him there with a lady.\n\n\"With a good will,\" said Sir Dinadan; and so he mounted upon his horse,\nand rode into the castle; and there he alighted, and was unarmed and\nbrought into the castle. Anon la Belle Isolde came unto him, and either\nsaluted other. Then she asked him of whence he was.\n\n\"Madam,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"I am of King Arthur's court, and knight of\nthe Round Table, and my name is Sir Dinadan.\"\n\n\"What do ye in this country?\" said la Belle Isolde.\n\n\"Madam,\" said he, \"I seek the noble knight Sir Tristram, for it was\ntold me that he was in this country.\"\n\n\"It may well be,\" said la Belle Isolde, \"but I am not ware of him.\"\n\n\"Madam,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"I marvel of Sir Tristram and moe other\nlovers, what aileth them to be so mad and so assotted upon women.\"\n\n\"Why,\" said la Belle Isolde, \"are ye a knight and be ye no lover? it is\na shame unto you; wherefore ye may not be called a good knight, but if\nthat ye make a quarrel for a lady.\"\n\n\"God defend me,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"for the joy of love is too short,\nand the sorrow and what cometh thereof endureth over long.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said la Belle Isolde, \"say ye not so, for here fast by was the\ngood knight Sir Bleoberis, which fought with three knights at once for\na damsel's sake, and he won her before the King of Northumberland.\"\n\n\"It was so,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"for I know him well for a good knight\nand a noble, and come of noble blood; for all be noble knights of whom\nhe is come of, that is Sir Launcelot du Lake.\"\n\n\"Now I pray you,\" said la Belle Isolde, \"tell me will ye fight for my\nlove with three knights that did me great wrong? and insomuch as ye be\na knight of King Arthur's court, I require you to do battle for me.\"\n\nThen Sir Dinadan said, \"I shall say unto you, ye are as fair a lady as\never I saw any, and much fairer than is my lady Queen Guenever; but wit\nye well at one word that I will not fight for you with three knights,\nJesu defend me.\"\n\nThen Isolde laughed, and had good game at him. So he had all the cheer\nthat she might make him; and there he lay all that night. And on the\nmorn early Sir Tristram armed him, and la Belle Isolde gave him a good\nhelm; and then he promised her that he would meet with Sir Dinadan, and\nthey two would ride together unto Lonazep, where the tournament should\nbe, \"and there shall I make ready for you, where ye shall see the\ntournament.\" Then departed Sir Tristram with two squires that bare his\nshield and his spears that were great and long.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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.\n\n\"Ah,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"art thou that coward knight that I met with\nyesterday, keep thee, for thou shalt joust with me, maugre thy head.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"and I am loth to joust.\"\n\nAnd so they let their horses run, and Sir Tristram missed of him a\npurpose, and Sir Dinadan brake a spear upon Sir Tristram; and therewith\nSir Dinadan dressed himself to draw out his sword.\n\n\"Not so,\" said Sir Tristram, \"why are ye so wroth? I will not fight.\"\n\n\"Fie on thee, coward,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"thou shamest all knights.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I care not, for I will wait upon you\nand be under your protection, for because ye are so good a knight ye\nmay save me.\"\n\n\"The devil deliver me of thee,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"for thou art as\ngoodly a man of arms and of thy person as ever I saw, and the most\ncoward that ever I saw. What wilt thou do with those great spears that\nthou carriest with thee?\"\n\n\"I shall give them,\" said Sir Tristram, \"to some good knight when I\ncome to the tournament; and if I see you do best I shall give them to\nyou.\"\n\nSo thus as they rode talking they saw where came an errant knight afore\nthem dressing him for to joust.\n\n\"Lo,\" said Sir Tristram, \"yonder is one will joust; now dress thee to\nhim.\"\n\n\"Ah! shame betide thee!\" said Sir Dinadan.\n\n\"Nay, not so,\" said Sir Tristram, \"for that knight seemeth a shrew.\"\n\n\"Then shall I,\" said Sir Dinadan.\n\nAnd so they dressed their shields and their spears, and they met\ntogether so hard that the other knight smote down Sir Dinadan from his\nhorse.\n\n\"Lo,\" said Sir Tristram, \"it had been better that ye had left.\"\n\n\"Fie on thee, coward!\" said Sir Dinadan.\n\nThen Sir Dinadan started up, and gat his sword in his hand, and\nproffered to do battle on foot.\n\n\"Whether in love or in wrath?\" said the other knight.\n\n\"Let us do battle in love,\" said Sir Dinadan.\n\n\"What is your name?\" said that knight, \"I pray you tell me.\"\n\n\"Wit ye well my name is Sir Dinadan.\"\n\n\"Ah, Sir Dinadan,\" said that knight, \"and my name is Sir Gareth, the\nyoungest brother unto Sir Gawaine.\"\n\nThen either made of other great joy, for this Sir Gareth was the best\nknight of all those brethren, and he proved a full good knight. Then\nthey took their horses, and there they spake of Sir Tristram, how he\nwas such a coward. And every word Sir Tristram heard, and laughed them\nto scorn. Then were they ware where there came a knight before them\nwell horsed and well armed.\n\n\"Fair knights,\" said Sir Tristram, \"look between you who shall joust\nwith yonder knight, for I warn you I will not have to do with him.\"\n\n\"Then shall I,\" said Sir Gareth.\n\nAnd so they encountered together, and there that knight smote down Sir\nGareth over his horse's crupper.\n\n\"How now?\" said Sir Tristram unto Sir Dinadan, \"dress thee now, and\nrevenge the good knight Sir Gareth.\"\n\n\"That shall I not,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"for he hath stricken down a much\nbigger knight than I am.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said Sir Tristram, \"now Sir Dinadan, I see and perceive full well\nthat your heart faileth you, therefore now shall ye see what I shall\ndo.\"\n\nAnd then Sir Tristram hurled unto that knight, and smote him quite from\nhis horse. And when Sir Dinadan saw that, he marvelled greatly, and\nthen he deemed in himself that it was Sir Tristram. Then this knight\nthat was on foot pulled out his sword to do battle.\n\n\"What is your name?\" said Sir Tristram.\n\n\"Wit ye well,\" said the knight, \"my name is Sir Palamides.\"\n\n\"What knight hate ye most?\" said Sir Tristram.\n\n\"Sir knight,\" said he, \"I hate Sir Tristram to the death, for and I may\nmeet with him the one of us shall die.\"\n\n\"Ye say well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"and wit ye well that I am Sir\nTristram de Lyonesse, and now do your worst.\"\n\nWhen Sir Palamides heard him say so he was astonished, and then he\nsaid thus, \"I pray you, Sir Tristram, forgive me all mine evil will,\nand if I live I shall do you service above all other knights that be\nliving, and there as I have owed you evil will me sore repenteth. I\nwot not what aileth me, for me seemeth that ye are a good knight, and\nnone other knight that named himself a good knight should not hate you;\ntherefore I require you, Sir Tristram, take no displeasure at mine\nunkind words.\"\n\n\"Sir Palamides,\" said Sir Tristram, \"ye say well, and well I wot ye are\na good knight, for I have seen you proved, and many great enterprises\nhave ye taken upon you, and well achieved them; therefore,\" said Sir\nTristram, \"and ye have any evil will to me, now may ye right it, for I\nam ready at your hand.\"\n\n\"Not so, my lord Sir Tristram; I will do you knightly service in all\nthings as ye will command.\"\n\n\"And right so I will take you,\" said Sir Tristram.\n\nAnd so they rode forth on their ways, talking of many things.\n\n\"Oh my lord Sir Tristram,\" said Dinadan, \"foul have ye mocked me, for\ntruly I came into this country for your sake, and by the advice of\nmy lord Sir Launcelot, and yet would not Sir Launcelot tell me the\ncertainty of you, where I should find you.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Sir Tristram, \"Sir Launcelot wist well where I was, for I\nabode within his own castle.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThus they rode until they were ware of the Castle of Lonazep, and then\nwere they ware of four hundred tents and pavilions, and marvellous\ngreat ordinance. \"So God me help,\" said Sir Tristram, \"yonder I see the\ngreatest ordinance that ever I saw.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Palamides, \"me seemeth there was as great an ordinance\nat the Castle of Maidens upon the rock, where ye won the prize, for I\nsaw myself where ye forjousted thirty knights.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"and in Surluse, at that tournament that Sir\nGalahalt of the long isles made, the which lasted seven days, was as\ngreat a gathering as is here, for there were many nations.\"\n\n\"Who was the best?\" said Sir Tristram.\n\n\"Sir, it was Sir Launcelot du Lake, and the noble knight Sir Lamorak de\nGalis; Sir Launcelot won the degree.\"\n\n\"I doubt not,\" said Sir Tristram, \"but he won the degree, so that\nhe had not been overmatched with many knights. And of the death of\nSir Lamorak,\" said Sir Tristram, \"it was over great pity, for I dare\nsay that he was the cleanest mighted man, and the best winded of his\nage that was on live, for I knew him that he was the biggest knight\nthat ever I met withal, but if it were Sir Launcelot. Alas!\" said Sir\nTristram, \"full woe is me of his death, and, if they were all the\ncousins of my lord King Arthur that slew him, they should die for it,\nand all those that were consenting to his death. And for such things,\"\nsaid Sir Tristram, \"I fear to draw unto the court of my lord King\nArthur. I will that ye wit it,\" said Sir Tristram to Sir Gareth.\n\n\"Sir, I blame you not,\" said Sir Gareth, \"for well I understand the\nvengeance of my brethren Sir Gawaine, Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, and\nSir Mordred; but for me,\" said Gareth, \"I meddle not of their matters,\ntherefore there is none of them that loveth me, and, for I understand\nthey be murderers of good knights, I left their company, and would God\nI had been by,\" said Sir Gareth, \"when the noble knight Sir Lamorak was\nslain.\"\n\n\"Now as Jesu be my help,\" said Sir Tristram, \"it is well said of you,\nfor I had liever than all the gold between this and Rome I had been\nthere.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Sir Palamides, \"I would I had been there, and yet I had\nnever the degree at no jousts there as he was, but he put me to the\nworse 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 all the days of my\nlife. And when the degree was given him by my lord King Arthur, Sir\nGawaine and his three brethren, Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, and Sir\nMordred, set upon Sir Lamorak in a privy place, and there they slew his\nhorse, and so they fought with him on foot more than three hours, both\nbefore him and behind him. And Sir Mordred gave him his death wound\nbehind him at his back, and all to-hewed him; for one of his squires\ntold me that saw it.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"_They fought with him on foot more than three hours,\nboth before him and behind him_\"]\n\n\"Fie upon treason,\" said Sir Tristram, \"for it killeth my heart to hear\nthis tale.\"\n\n\"So doth it mine,\" said Sir Gareth; \"brethren as they be mine, I shall\nnever love them nor draw me to their fellowship for that deed.\"\n\n\"Now speak we of other deeds,\" said Sir Palamides, \"and let him be, for\nhis life ye may not get again.\"\n\n\"That is the more pity,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"for Sir Gawaine and his\nbrethren (except you, Sir Gareth) hate all the good knights of the\nRound Table for the most part; for well I wot, and they might privily,\nthey hate my lord Sir Launcelot and all his kin, and great privy\ndespite they have at him, and that is my lord Sir Launcelot well ware\nof, and that causeth him to have the good knights of his kindred about\nhim.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Sir,\" said Palamides, \"let us leave off this matter, and let us see\nhow we shall do at this tournament. By mine advice,\" said Palamides,\n\"let us four hold together against all that will come.\"\n\n\"Not by my counsel,\" said Sir Tristram, \"for I see by their pavilions\nthere will be four hundred knights, and doubt ye not,\" said Sir\nTristram, \"but there will be many good knights, and be a man never\nso valiant nor so big yet he may be overmatched. And so I have seen\nknights done many times: and when they wend best to have won worship\nthey lost it. For manhood is not worth but if it be meddled [_mingled_]\nwith wisdom: and as for me,\" said Sir Tristram, \"it may happen I shall\nkeep mine own head as well as another.\"\n\nSo thus they rode until that they came to Humber bank, where they heard\na cry and a doleful noise. Then were they ware in the wind where came\na rich vessel covered over with red silk, and the vessel landed fast\nby them. Therewith Sir Tristram alighted and his knights. And so Sir\nTristram went afore and entered into that vessel. And when he came\nwithin, he saw a fair bed richly covered, and thereupon lay a dead\nseemly knight, all armed, save the head was all bebled, with deadly\nwounds upon him: the which seemed to be a passing good knight.\n\n\"How may this be,\" said Sir Tristram, \"that this knight is thus slain?\"\nThen Sir Tristram was ware of a letter in the dead knight's hand.\n\"Master mariners,\" said Sir Tristram, \"what meaneth that letter?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said they, \"in that letter ye shall hear and know how he was\nslain, and for what cause, and what was his name; but, sir,\" said the\nmariners, \"wit ye well that no man shall take that letter and read it\nbut if he be a good knight, and that he will faithfully promise to\nrevenge his death, else shall there no knight see that letter open.\"\n\n\"Wit ye well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"that some of us may revenge his\ndeath as well as others; and if it be as ye say it shall be revenged.\"\nAnd therewith Sir Tristram took the letter out of the knight's hand,\nand it said thus: \"Hermance, king and lord of the Red City, I send\nto all knights errant recommendation, and unto you, noble knights of\nKing Arthur's court, I beseech them all among them to find one knight\nthat will fight for my sake with two brethren, that I brought up of\nnought, and feloniously and traitorously they have slain me, wherefore\nI beseech one good knight to revenge my death; and he that revengeth my\ndeath I will that he have my Red City and all my castles.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" 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.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Sir Tristram, \"here is a piteous case, and full fain I\nwould take this enterprise upon me, but I have made such a promise that\nneeds I must be at this great tournament or else I am shamed. For well\nI wot for my sake in especial my lord Arthur let make this jousts and\ntournament in this country; and well I wot that many worshipful people\nwill be there at that tournament for to see me. Therefore I fear me to\ntake this enterprise upon me, that I shall not come again betimes to\nthis jousts.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Palamides, \"I pray you give me this enterprise, and ye\nshall see me achieve it worshipfully, or else I shall die in this\nquarrel.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"and this enterprise I give you, with this\nthat ye be with me at this tournament, that shall be as at this day\nseven night.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Palamides, \"I promise you that I shall be with you by that\nday if I be unslain or unmaimed.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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 along 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.\n\n\"Fair knights,\" said that knight, \"I pray you insomuch as ye be knights\nerrant, that ye will come and see my castle, and take such as ye find\nthere; I pray you heartily.\"\n\nAnd so they rode with him into his castle; and there they were brought\nto the hall, that was well apparelled, and so they were unarmed and set\nat a board. And when this knight saw Sir Tristram, anon he knew him;\nand then this knight waxed pale and wroth at Sir Tristram. When Sir\nTristram saw his host make such cheer, he marvelled greatly, and said,\n\"Sir mine host, what cheer make ye?\"\n\n\"Wit thou well,\" said he, \"I fare much the worse for thee; for I know\nthee well, Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, thou slewest my brother, and\ntherefore I give thee summons that I will slay thee and I may get thee\nat large.\"\n\n\"Sir knight,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I am not advised that ever I slew\nany brother of yours; and if ye say that I did it, I will make you\namends unto my power.\"\n\n\"I will none of your amends,\" said the knight, \"but keep thee from me.\"\n\nSo when he had dined, Sir Tristram asked his arms and departed; and so\nthey rode forth on their way. And within a little while Sir Dinadan saw\nwhere came a knight riding all armed and well horsed without shield.\n\n\"Sir Tristram,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"take heed to yourself, for I\nundertake that yonder cometh your host that will have to do with you.\"\n\n\"Let him come,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I shall abide him as well as I may.\"\n\nAnon that knight when he came nigh Sir Tristram he cried to him, and\nbade him abide and keep him well. So they hurled together, but Sir\nTristram smote the other knight so sore that he bare him to the ground.\nAnd that knight arose lightly, and took his horse again, and so rode\nfiercely to Sir Tristram, and smote him twice full hard upon the helm.\n\"Sir knight,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I pray you to leave off and smite me\nno more, for I would be loth to deal with you and I might choose, for\nI have your meat and your drink within my body.\" For all that he would\nnot leave; and then Sir Tristram gave him such a buffet upon the helm\nthat he tumbled upside down from his horse, that the blood brast out at\nthe ventails of his helm; and there he lay still likely to have died.\nThen Sir Tristram said, \"Me repenteth sore of this buffet that I smote\nso sore, for, as I suppose, he is dead.\"\n\nAnd so they departed and rode forth on their way. So they had not\nridden but a while but they saw coming against them two full likely\nknights, well armed and horsed, and goodly servants about them. The\none was called the king with the hundred knights, and that other was\nSir Segwarides, which were renowned two noble knights. So as they\ncame either by other, the king looked upon Sir Dinadan, which at that\ntime had Sir Tristram's helm upon his shoulder, which helm the king\nhad seen before with the Queen of Northwales, and that helm the Queen\nof Northwales had given unto la Belle Isolde, and the Queen la Belle\nIsolde gave it unto Sir Tristram.\n\n\"Sir knight,\" said [the king], \"where had ye that helm?\"\n\n\"What would ye?\" said Sir Dinadan.\n\n\"For I will have ado with thee,\" said the king, \"for the love of her\nthat owned that helm, and therefore keep you.\"\n\nSo they departed and came together with all the mights of their horses;\nand there the king with the hundred knights smote Sir Dinadan, horse\nand all, to the earth; and then he commanded his servant, \"Go and take\nthou his helm off, and keep it.\"\n\nSo the varlet went to unbuckle his helm.\n\n\"What helm? What wilt thou do?\" said Sir Tristram; \"leave that helm.\"\n\n\"To what intent,\" said the king, \"will ye, sir knight, meddle with that\nhelm?\"\n\n\"Wit you well,\" said Sir Tristram, \"that helm shall not depart from me,\nor it be dearer bought.\"\n\n\"Then make you ready,\" said [the king] unto Sir Tristram.\n\nSo they hurtled together, and there Sir Tristram smote him down over\nhis horse's tail. And then the king arose lightly, and gat his horse\nlightly again, and then he struck fiercely at Sir Tristram many great\nstrokes. And then Sir Tristram gave [the king] such a buffet upon the\nhelm that he fell down over his horse, sore stunned.\n\n\"Lo,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"that helm is unhappy to us twain, for I had a\nfall for it, and now, sir king, have ye another fall.\"\n\nThen Segwarides asked, \"Who shall joust with me?\"\n\n\"I pray thee,\" said Sir Gareth unto Dinadan, \"let me have this jousts.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Dinadan, \"I pray you take it as for me.\"\n\n\"That is no reason,\" said Tristram, \"for this jousts should be yours.\"\n\n\"At a word,\" said Sir Dinadan, \"I will not thereof.\"\n\nThen Gareth dressed him to Sir Segwarides, and there Sir Segwarides\nsmote Sir Gareth and his horse to the earth.\n\n\"Now,\" said Sir Tristram to Dinadan, \"joust with yonder knight.\"\n\n\"I will not thereof,\" said Dinadan.\n\n\"Then will I,\" said Sir Tristram.\n\nAnd then Sir Tristram ran to him and gave him a fall, and so they left\nthem on foot. And Sir Tristram rode unto Joyous Gard, and there Sir\nGareth would not of his courtesy have gone into the castle, but Sir\nTristram would not suffer him to depart; and so they alighted, and\nunarmed them, and had there great cheer. But when Sir Dinadan came\nafore la Belle Isolde, he cursed the time that ever he bare the helm of\nSir Tristram, and there he told her how Sir Tristram had mocked him.\nThen was there good laughing and sport at Sir Dinadan, that they wist\nnot what to do to keep them from laughing.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNow will we leave them merry within Joyous Gard, and speak we of Sir\nPalamides. Then Sir Palamides sailed even along Humber unto the coast\nof the sea, where was a fair castle, and at that time it was early in\nthe morning afore day. Then the mariners went unto Sir Palamides, that\nwas fast on sleep: \"Sir knight,\" said the mariners, \"ye must arise, for\nhere is a castle into the which ye must go.\"\n\n\"I assent me thereto,\" said Sir Palamides.\n\nAnd therewithal he arrived; and then he blew his horn, the which the\nmariners had given him. And when they that were within the castle heard\nthat horn, they put forth many knights, and there they stood upon the\nwalls and said with one voice, \"Welcome be ye to this castle.\" And then\nit waxed clear day, and Sir Palamides entered into the castle. And\nwithin a while he was served with many divers meats. Then Sir Palamides\nheard about him much weeping and great dole. \"What may this mean?\" said\nSir Palamides: \"I love not to hear such a sorrow, and fain I would know\nwhat it meaneth.\"\n\nThen there came afore him one whose name was Sir Ebel, that said thus,\n\"Wit 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's court, and all jousting,\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\nand estates 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.\"\n\n\"Tell me,\" said Palamides, \"in what manner was your lord slain, and by\nwhom?\"\n\n\"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\nnone other 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's\nblood, and departed from him unto their own livelihood. Then when these\ntwo traitors understood that they had driven all the lords of his\nblood from him, they were not pleased with that rule, but then they\nthought to have more, as ever it is an old saw, Give a churl rule, and\nthereby he will not be sufficed; for whatsoever he be that is ruled\nby a villain born, and the lord of the soil to be a gentleman born,\nthe same villain shall destroy all the gentlemen about him; therefore\nall estates and lords beware whom ye take about you. And if ye be a\nknight of King Arthur's court, remember this tale, for this is the end\nand conclusion. My lord and king rode unto the forest by the advice of\nthese false traitors, and there he chased at the red deer, all armed\nof all pieces, full like a good knight; and so for labor he waxed dry,\nand then he alighted and drank at a well. And when he was alighted,\nby the assent of these two false traitors, the one that hight Helius\nsuddenly smote our king through the body with a spear, and so they left\nhim there; and when they were departed, then by fortune I came unto\nthe well and found my lord and king wounded unto the death; and when\nI heard his complaint, I let bring him to the water side, and in that\nsame ship I put him alive. And when my lord King Hermance was in that\nvessel, he required me for the true faith that I owed unto him for to\nwrite a letter in this manner:--\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"'Recommending unto King Arthur and unto all the knights errant,\nbeseeching them all in so much as I, King Hermance, King of the Red\nCity, thus am slain by felony and treason, through two knights of mine\nown, and of mine own bringing up and of mine own making, that some\nworshipful knight will revenge my death, in so much as I have been ever\nto my power well willing unto King Arthur's court; and who that will\nadventure his life with these two traitors for my sake in one battle,\nI, King Hermance, King of the Red City, freely give all my lands and\ntenements that ever I possessed in all my life.' This letter,\" said\nSir Ebel, \"I wrote by my lord's commandment, and then he received his\nMaker [_took the Holy Communion_]. And when he was dead, he commanded\nme, or ever he were cold, to put this letter fast in his hand; and then\nhe commanded me to put forth that same vessel down Humber, and I should\ngive these mariners in commandment never to stint until that they came\nunto Logris, where all the noble knights shall assemble at this time,\n'and there shall some good knight have pity on me to revenge my death,\nfor there was never king nor lord falselier ne traitorlier slain than I\nam here to my death.'\"\n\nThus was the complaint of our king Hermance.\n\n\"Now,\" said Sir Ebel, \"ye know all how our lord was betrayed, we\nrequire you for God's 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.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Sir Palamides, \"it grieveth my heart for to hear you tell\nthis doleful tale. And to say the truth, I saw the same letter that ye\nspeak of; and one of the best knights on the earth read that letter\nto me, and by his commandment I came hither to revenge your king's\ndeath; and therefore have done, and let me wit where I shall find those\ntraitors, for I shall never be at ease in my heart till that I be in\nhands with them.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Ebel, \"then take your ship again, and that ship must\nbring you unto the Delectable Isle, fast by the Red City, and we in\nthis castle shall pray for you and abide your again-coming; for this\nsame castle, and ye speed well, must needs be yours; for our king\nHermance let make this castle for the love of the two traitors, and so\nwe kept it with strong hand, and therefore full sore are we threated.\"\n\n\"Wot ye what ye shall do,\" said Sir Palamides; \"whatsoever come of me,\nlook ye keep well this castle. For, and it misfortune me so to be slain\nin this quest, I am sure there will come one of the best knights of the\nworld for to revenge my death, and that is Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, or\nelse Sir Launcelot du Lake.\"\n\nThen Sir Palamides departed from that castle. And as he came nigh unto\nthe city, there came out of a ship a goodly knight all armed against\nhim, with his shield upon his shoulder, and his hand upon his sword;\nand anon as he came nigh Sir Palamides, he said, \"Sir knight, what seek\nye here in this country? leave this quest, for it is mine, and mine it\nwas or it was yours, and therefore I will have it.\"\n\n\"Sir knight,\" said Sir Palamides, \"it may well be that this quest\nwas yours or it was mine, but when the letter was taken out of the\ndead king's hand, at that time by likelihood there was no knight had\nundertaken to revenge the death of King Hermance; and so at that time I\npromised to revenge his death, and so I shall, or else I am shamed.\"\n\n\"Ye say well,\" said the knight, \"but wit ye well then will I fight\nwith you, and he that is the better knight of us both let him take the\nbattle in hand.\"\n\n\"I assent me,\" said Sir Palamides.\n\nAnd then they dressed their shields, and drew out their swords, and\nlashed together many a sad stroke, as men of might, and thus they\nfought more than an hour. And at the last Sir Palamides waxed big and\nbetter winded, so that then he smote that knight such a stroke that he\nmade him to kneel upon both his knees. Then that knight spoke on high\nand said, \"Gentle knight, hold thy hand.\"\n\nSir Palamides was courteous and withdrew his hand.\n\nThen this knight said, \"Wit ye well, sir knight, that ye be better\nworthy to have this battle than I, and I require thee of thy knighthood\nto tell me thy name.\"\n\n\"Sir, my name is Sir Palamides, a knight of King Arthur's court and of\nthe Round Table, that hither am come to revenge the death of this dead\nking.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Ah, well be ye found,\" said the knight unto Sir Palamides, \"for of all\nknights that be now living (except three) I had lievest have you. The\nfirst is Sir Launcelot du Lake, the second is Sir Tristram de Lyonesse,\nand the third Sir Lamorak de Galis; and I am brother unto King Hermance\nthat is dead, and my name is Sir Hermind.\"\n\n\"It is well said,\" quoth Sir Palamides, \"and ye shall see how I shall\nspeed; and if I be there slain, go ye unto my lord Sir Launcelot or\nunto my lord Sir Tristram, and pray them to revenge my death, for as\nfor Sir Lamorak, him shall ye never see in this world.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said Sir Hermind, \"how may that be?\"\n\n\"He is slain,\" said Sir Palamides, \"by Sir Gawaine and his brethren.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Hermind, \"there was not one for one that slew him.\"\n\n\"That is truth,\" said Sir Palamides, \"for they were four dangerous\nknights that slew him, as Sir Gawaine, Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, and\nSir Mordred; but Sir Gareth, the fifth brother, was away, the best\nknight of them all.\"\n\nAnd so Sir Palamides told Hermind all the manner, and how they slew\nSir Lamorak 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's brother, he arrived up at the Red City, and there\nhe told them how there was come a knight of King Arthur's to avenge\nKing Hermance's death; and his name is Sir Palamides the good knight.\nThen all the city made great joy. For mickle had they heard of Sir\nPalamides, and of his noble prowess. So let they ordain a messenger and\nsent unto the two brethren, and bade them to make them ready, for there\nwas a knight come that would fight with them both. So the messenger\nwent unto them where they were at a castle there beside. And there he\ntold them how there was a knight come of King Arthur's court to fight\nwith them both at once.\n\n\"He is welcome,\" said they. \"But tell us, we pray you, if it be Sir\nLauncelot, or any of his blood.\"\n\n\"He is none of that blood,\" said the messenger.\n\n\"Then we care the less,\" said the two brethren, \"for with none of the\nblood of Sir Launcelot we keep not to have to do withal.\"\n\n\"Wit ye well,\" said the messenger, \"that his name is Sir Palamides,\nthe which is not yet christened, a noble knight.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said they, \"and if he be now unchristened, he shall never be\nchristened.\"\n\nSo they appointed for to be at the city within two days. And when Sir\nPalamides was come unto the city, they made passing great joy of him.\nAnd when they beheld him, [they] saw that he was well made, cleanly and\nbigly, and unmaimed of his limbs, and neither too young nor too old,\nand so all the people praised him; and though he was not christened,\nyet he believed in the best manner, and was faithful and true of his\npromise, and also well conditioned; and because he made his avow never\nto take full christendom unto the time that he had done seven battles\nwithin the lists.\n\nSo within the third day there came to this city these two brethren, the\none hight Sir Helius, and that other hight Sir Helake, the which were\nmen of great prowess, howbeit they were false and full of treason, and\nbut poor men born, yet were they noble knights of their hands.\n\nAnd with them they brought forty knights, to the intent they should\nbe big enough for the Red City. Thus came the two brethren with great\nbobance [_boasting_] and pride, for they had put the Red City in fear\nand damage. Then they were brought into the lists; and Sir Palamides\ncame into the place, and thus he said, \"Be ye the two brethren, Sir\nHelius and Sir Helake, that slew your king and lord Sir Hermance by\nfelony and treason, for whom I am come hither for to revenge his\ndeath?\"\n\n\"Wit thou well,\" said Sir Helius and Sir Helake, \"that we are the same\nknights that slew King Hermance. And wit thou well, Sir Palamides,\nSaracen, that we shall handle thee so or thou depart that thou shalt\nwish that thou werest christened.\"\n\n\"It may well be,\" said Sir Palamides, \"for yet I would not die or I\nwere christened, and yet so am I not afeared of you both, but I trust\nto God that I shall die a better Christian man than any of you both;\nand doubt ye not,\" said Sir Palamides, \"either ye or I shall be left\ndead in this place.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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 helped after, and so they fell both to the earth, but\nanon Sir Helius started up lightly, and there he smote Sir Palamides\na mighty stroke upon the helm, so that he kneeled upon his own knee.\nThen they lashed together many sad strokes, and traced and traversed,\nnow backward, now sideling, hurtling together like two boars, and that\nsame time they fell both grovelling to the earth. Thus they fought\nstill without 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 a sorrowful dole; and that\nother party made great joy. \"Alas,\" said the men of the city, \"that\nthis noble knight should thus be slain for our king's sake!\"\n\nAnd as they were thus weeping and crying [for] Sir Palamides that had\nendured well an hundred strokes, that it was wonder that he stood upon\nhis feet, at the last Sir Palamides beheld as well as he might the\ncommon people how they wept for him. And then he said unto himself,\n\"Ah, fie for shame, Sir Palamides, wherefore hangest thou thy head so\nlow?\" And therewith he bare up his shield, and looked Sir Helius in\nthe visage, and smote him a great stroke upon the helm, and after that\nanother, and another. And then he smote Sir Helius with such a might,\nthat he fell upon the ground grovelling; and then he started lightly\nto him, and rashed off his helm from his head, and there he smote him\nsuch a buffet that he departed his head from the body. And then were\nthe people of the city the joyfullest people that might be. So they\nbrought him unto his lodging with great solemnity, and there all the\npeople became his men; and then Sir Palamides prayed them all for to\ntake heed unto the lordship of King Hermance. \"For, fair sirs, wit\nye well, I may not at this time abide with you, for I must in all the\nhaste be with my lord King Arthur at the Castle of Lonazep, which I\nhave promised.\"\n\nSo then were the people full heavy of 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 at that time he would abide; and so\nSir Palamides departed. And then he came unto the castle whereas Sir\nEbel was lieutenant; and when they that were in the castle knew how Sir\nPalamides had sped, there was a joyful meyny [_household_]. And Sir\nPalamides departed, and came to the Castle of Lonazep. And when he wist\nthat Sir Tristram was not there, he took his way unto Humber, and came\nunto Joyous Gard, whereas Sir Tristram was and la Belle Isolde. So it\nhad been commanded that what knight errant came within the Joyous Gard,\nas in the town, that they should warn Sir Tristram. So there came a man\nof the town, and told Sir Tristram how there was a knight in the town,\na passing goodly man.\n\n\"What manner of man is he?\" said Sir Tristram, \"and what sign beareth\nhe?\"\n\nSo the man told Sir Tristram all the tokens of him.\n\n\"That is Palamides,\" said Dinadan.\n\n\"It may well be,\" said Sir Tristram: \"go ye to him,\" said Sir Tristram\nunto Dinadan.\n\nSo Dinadan went unto Sir Palamides, and there either made of other\ngreat joy, and so they lay together that night, and on the morn early\ncame Sir Tristram and Sir Gareth, and took them in their beds, and so\nthey arose and brake their fast.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[And so, having done many great deeds of arms, after many days it\nhappened that Sir Tristram rode forth for to rescue Sir Palamides, but\nSir Launcelot, in disguise, had already rescued him or [_before_] that\nSir Tristram could come. And then Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides went\nwith the unknown knight to his castle, which was Sir Launcelot's castle\nof Joyous Gard.]\n\nAnd when they were come within Joyous Gard, they alighted, and their\nhorses were led into a stable, and then they unarmed them. And when\nSir Launcelot had put off his helm, Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides\nknew him. Then Sir Tristram took Sir Launcelot in his arms; and Sir\nPalamides kneeled down upon his knees and thanked Sir Launcelot. When\nSir Launcelot saw Sir Palamides kneel, he lightly took him up, and\nsaid,--\n\n\"Wit thou well, Sir Palamides, I and any knight in this land of worship\nought of very right succor and rescue so noble a knight as ye are\nproved and renowned throughout all this realm, endlong and overthwart.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot within three or four days departed; and with him\nrode Sir Ector de Maris; and Dinadan and Sir Palamides were there\nleft with Sir Tristram a two months and more. But ever Sir Palamides\nfaded and mourned, that all men had marvel wherefore he faded so away.\nSo upon a day, in the dawning Sir Palamides went into the forest by\nhimself alone, and there he found a well. And therewithal he laid him\ndown by the well. And then he began to make a rhyme of la Belle Isolde\nand him. And in the meanwhile Sir Tristram was that same day ridden\ninto the forest to chase the hart of greese [_the fat hart_]. And so\nas Sir Tristram rode into that forest up and down, he heard one sing\nmarvellously loud; and that was Sir Palamides, that lay by the well.\nAnd then Sir Tristram rode softly thither, for he deemed there was some\nknight 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 to a tree, and then he came near him on foot.\nAnd anon he was ware where lay Sir Palamides by the well. And ever\nthe complaints were of that noble queen la Belle Isolde, the which\nwas marvellously and wonderfully well made and full dolefully and\npiteously. And all the whole song the noble knight Sir Tristram heard\nfrom the beginning to the ending, the which grieved and troubled him\nsore. But then at last, when Sir Tristram had heard all Sir Palamides'\ncomplaints, he was wroth out of measure, and thought for to slay\nhim there as he lay. Then Sir Tristram remembered himself that Sir\nPalamides was unarmed, and of the noble name that Sir Palamides had,\nand the noble name that himself had, and then he made a restraint of\nhis anger, and so he went unto Sir Palamides a soft pace, and said,--\n\n\"Sir Palamides, I have heard your complaint, and of thy treason that\nthou hast owed me so long. And wit thou well therefore thou shalt die.\nAnd if it were not for shame of knighthood thou shouldest not escape my\nhands, for now I know well thou hast awaited me with treason. Tell me,\"\nsaid Sir Tristram, \"how thou wilt acquit thee.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Palamides, \"thus I will acquit me: as for queen la Belle\nIsolde, ye shall wit well that I love her above all other ladies of\nthe world; and well I wot it shall befall me as for her love as befell\nto the noble knight Sir Kehidius, that died for the love of la Belle\nIsolde; and now, Sir Tristram, I will that ye wit that I have loved la\nBelle Isolde many a day, and she hath been the causer of my worship.\nAnd else I had been the most simplest knight in the world. For by\nher, and because of her, I have won the worship that I have: for when\nI remembered me of la Belle Isolde, I won the worship wheresoever I\ncame, for the most part; and yet had I never reward nor bounty of her\nthe days 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\nlief die as to live. And if I were armed as thou art, I should lightly\ndo battle with thee.\"\n\n\"Well have ye uttered your treason,\" said Sir Tristram.\n\n\"I have done to you no treason,\" said Sir Palamides, \"for love is free\nfor all men, and though I have loved your lady she is my lady as well\nas yours; and yet shall I love her to the uttermost days of my life as\nwell as ye.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Then,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I will fight with you unto the uttermost.\"\n\n\"I grant,\" said Sir Palamides, \"for in a better quarrel keep I never\nto fight, for and I die of your hands, of a better knight's hands may\nI not be slain. And sithen [_since_] I understand that I shall never\nrejoice the queen la Belle Isolde, I have as good a will to die as to\nlive.\"\n\n\"Then set ye a day of battle,\" said Sir Tristram.\n\n\"This day fifteen days,\" said Sir Palamides, \"will I meet with you\nhereby in the meadow under Joyous Gard.\"\n\n\"Fie for shame!\" said Sir Tristram, \"will ye set so long a day? let us\nfight to-morrow.\"\n\n\"Not so,\" said Sir Palamides, \"for I am feeble and lean, and have been\nlong sick for the love of la Belle Isolde, and therefore I will rest me\ntill that I have my strength again.\"\n\nSo then Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides promised faithfully to meet at\nthe well as that day fifteen days.\n\nRight so departed Sir Tristram and Sir Palamides; and so Sir Palamides\ntook his horse and his harness, and rode unto King Arthur's court, and\nthere Sir Palamides gat him four knights and three sergeants of arms;\nand so he returned again towards Joyous Gard. And in the meanwhile Sir\nTristram chased and hunted at all manner of venery [_game_]; and about\na three days afore that the battle should be, as Sir Tristram chased an\nhart, there was an archer shot at the hart, and by misfortune he smote\nSir Tristram in the thickest of the thigh and wounded him right sore,\nand the arrow slew Sir Tristram's horse; and when Sir Tristram was so\nsore hurt, he was passing heavy, and wit ye well he bled sore. And\nthen he took another horse, and rode unto Joyous Gard with full great\nheaviness.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen when the fifteenth day was come, Sir Palamides came to the well\nwith four knights with him of King Arthur's court, and three sergeants\nof arms. And the one sergeant brought his helm, the other his spear,\nand the third his sword. So Sir Palamides came into the field, and\nthere he abode nigh two hours, and then he sent a squire unto Sir\nTristram, and desired him to come into the field for to hold his\npromise. When the squire was come to Joyous Gard, and that Sir Tristram\nheard of his coming, he commanded that the squire should come to his\npresence there as he lay in his bed.\n\n\"My lord Sir Tristram,\" said Palamides' squire, \"wit you well, my lord\nPalamides abideth you in the field, and he would wit whether ye would\ndo battle or not.\"\n\n\"Ah, my fair brother,\" said Sir Tristram, \"wit thou well that I am\nright heavy for these tidings, therefore tell Sir Palamides and I were\nwell at ease I would not lie here, nor he should have no need to send\nfor me, and I might either ride or go: and for thou shalt say that I\nam no liar,\" Sir Tristram showed him his thigh, that the wound was six\ninches deep:--\"and now thou hast seen my hurt, tell thy lord that this\nis no feigned matter; and tell him that I had liever than all the gold\nof King Arthur that I were whole; and tell Sir Palamides, as soon as I\nam whole I shall seek him endlong and overthwart, and that I promise\nyou as I am true knight; and if ever I may meet with him he shall have\nbattle of me his fill.\"\n\nAnd with this the squire departed. And then departed Sir Palamides\nwhere as fortune led him. And within a month Sir Tristram was whole of\nhis hurt. And then he took his horse, and rode from country to country,\nand all strange adventures he achieved wheresoever he rode, and always\nhe inquired for Sir Palamides.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[When Sir Tristram was returned, he heard how there should be a great\nfeast at King Arthur's court on the Pentecost next following. And so\nwhen that day was nigh Sir Tristram set forth unarmed towards Camelot.]\n\nAnd within a mile after, Sir Tristram saw before him where Sir\nPalamides had stricken down a knight, and had almost wounded him to\ndeath. Then Sir Tristram repented him that he was not armed, and then\nhe hoved still. With that Sir Palamides knew Sir Tristram, and cried on\nhigh: \"Sir Tristram, now be we met, for or we depart we will redress\nour old sores.\"\n\n\"As for that,\" said Sir Tristram, \"there was never yet Christian man\nthat might make his boast that ever I fled from him, and wit thou well,\nSir Palamides, thou that art a Saracen shall never make thy boast that\nSir Tristram de Lyonesse shall flee from thee.\"\n\nAnd therewithal Sir Tristram made his horse to run with all his might,\ncame he straight upon Sir Palamides, and brake his spear upon him in\nan hundred pieces, and forthwith Sir Tristram drew his sword, and then\nhe turned his horse and struck at Sir Palamides six great strokes upon\nhis helm. And then Sir Palamides stood still, and beheld Sir Tristram,\nand marvelled of his woodness and of his great folly; and then Sir\nPalamides said to himself, \"And Sir Tristram were armed it were hard to\ncease him of this battle, and if I turn again and slay him I am shamed\nwheresoever that I go.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram spake and said, \"Thou coward knight, what castest\nthou to do? why wilt thou not do battle with me, for have thou no doubt\nI shall endure all thy malice.\"\n\n\"Ah, Sir Tristram,\" said Sir Palamides, \"full well thou wottest I may\nnot fight with thee for shame, for thou art here naked, and I am\narmed, and if I slay thee dishonor shall be mine. And well thou wottest\nI know thy strength and thy hardiness to endure against a good knight.\"\n\n\"That is truth,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I understand thy valiantness well.\"\n\n\"Ye say well,\" said Sir Palamides, \"now I require you tell me a\nquestion that I shall say to you.\"\n\n\"Tell me what it is,\" said Sir Tristram, \"and I shall answer you the\ntruth.\"\n\n\"I put the case,\" said Sir Palamides, \"that ye were armed at all rights\nas well as I am, and I naked as ye be, what would ye do to me now by\nyour true knighthood?\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Sir Tristram, \"now I understand thee well, Sir Palamides,\nfor now must I say my own judgment, and, as God me bless, that I shall\nsay shall 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.\"\n\n\"No more will I,\" said Sir Palamides, \"and therefore ride forth on thy\nway.\"\n\n\"As for that I may choose,\" said Sir Tristram, \"either to ride or to\nabide. But Sir Palamides,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I marvel of one thing,\nthat thou that art so good a knight, that thou will not be christened,\nand thy brother Sir Safere hath been christened many a day.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"As 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 baptized with a good will.\"\n\n\"By my head,\" said Sir Tristram, \"as for one battle thou shalt not\nseek it no longer. For God defend,\" said Sir Tristram, \"that through\nmy default thou shouldest longer live thus a Saracen. For yonder is a\nknight that ye, Sir Palamides, have hurt and smitten down; now help me\nthat I were armed in his armor, and I shall soon fulfil thine avows.\"\n\n\"As ye will,\" said Sir Palamides, \"so it shall be.\"\n\nSo they rode unto that knight that sat upon a bank, and then Sir\nTristram saluted him, and he weakly saluted him again.\n\n\"Sir knight,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I require you tell me your right\nname.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" he said, \"my name is Sir Galleron of Galway, and knight of the\nTable Round.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Sir Tristram, \"I am right heavy of your hurts: but this\nis all, I must pray you to lend me all your whole armor, for ye see I\nam unarmed, and I must do battle with this knight.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the hurt knight, \"ye shall have it with a good will; but ye\nmust beware, for I warn you that knight is wight [_strong_]. Sir,\" said\nGalleron, \"I pray you tell me your name, and what is that knight's name\nthat hath beaten me.\"\n\n\"Sir, as for my name, it is Sir Tristram de Lyonesse, and as for the\nknight's name that hath hurt you, it is Sir Palamides, brother unto the\ngood knight Sir Safere, and yet is Sir Palamides unchristened.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said Sir Galleron, \"that is pity that so good a knight and so\nnoble a man of arms should be unchristened.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Sir Tristram, \"either he shall slay me, or I him, but\nthat he shall be christened or ever we depart in sunder.\"\n\n\"My lord Sir Tristram,\" said Sir Galleron, \"your renown and worship is\nwell known through many realms and God save you this day from shame.\"\n\nThen Sir Tristram unarmed Galleron, the which was a noble knight and\nhad done many deeds of arms, and he was a large knight of flesh and\nbone. And when he was unarmed he stood upon his feet, for he was\nbruised in the back with a spear; yet, so as Sir Galleron might,\nhe armed Sir Tristram. And then Sir Tristram mounted upon his own\nhorse, and in his hand he gat Sir Galleron's spear. And therewithal\nSir Palamides was ready, and so they came hurtling together, and\neither smote other in the midst of their shields, and therewithal Sir\nPalamides' spear brake, and Sir Tristram smote down the horse; and then\nSir Palamides, as soon as he might, avoided his horse, and dressed his\nshield, and pulled out his sword. That saw Sir Tristram, and therewith\nhe alighted, and tied his horse to a tree.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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 dreaded 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's 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 grovelling 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\nstill in like hard, and Sir Palamides failed not, but gave him many\nsad strokes. And at the last Sir Tristram doubled his strokes, and by\nfortune Sir Tristram smote Sir Palamides' sword out of his hand, and if\nSir Palamides had stooped for his sword, he had been slain. Then Sir\nPalamides stood still and beheld his sword with a sorrowful heart.\n\n\"How now,\" said Sir Tristram unto Sir Palamides, \"now have I thee at\nadvantage as thou hadst me this day, but it shall never be said in no\ncourt, nor among good knights, that Sir Tristram shall slay any knight\nthat is weaponless, and therefore take thou thy sword, and let us make\nan end of this battle.\"\n\n\"As for to do this battle,\" said Sir Palamides, \"I dare right well end\nit; but I have no great lust to fight no more, and for this cause, mine\noffence to you is not so great but that we may be friends. All that I\nhave offended is and was for the love of la Belle Isolde. And as for\nher, I dare say she is peerless above all other ladies, and also I\nproffered her never no dishonor; and by her I have gotten the most part\nof my worship, and sithen I offended never as to her own person. And\nas for the offence that I have done, it was against your own person,\nand for that offence ye have given me this day many sad strokes, and\nsome I have given you again; and now I dare say I felt never man of\nyour might, nor so well breathed, but if it were Sir Launcelot du Lake.\nWherefore I require you, my lord, forgive me all that I have offended\nunto you. And this same day have me to the next church, and first let\nme be clean confessed, and after see you now that I be truly baptized.\nAnd then will we all ride together unto the court of Arthur, that we be\nthere at the high feast.\"\n\n\"Now take your horse,\" said Sir Tristram, \"and as ye say, so it shall\nbe; and all your evil will God forgive it you, and I do. And here,\nwithin this mile, is the suffragan of Carlisle, that shall give you the\nsacrament of baptism.\"\n\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 god-fathers. And then soon after they departed,\nriding towards Camelot, where King Arthur and Queen Guenever was, and\nfor the most part all the knights of the Round Table. And so the king\nand all the court were glad that Sir Palamides was christened. And Sir\nTristram returned again towards Joyous Gard.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[And so, after years, and many mighty deeds of arms, the] traitor King\nMark slew the noble knight Sir Tristram as he sat harping before his\nlady la Belle Isolde, with a trenchant glaive; for whose death was much\nbewailing of every knight in Arthur's days. And la Belle Isolde died\nswooning upon the corpse of Sir Tristram, whereof was great pity. And\nall that were with King Mark consenting to the death of Sir Tristram\nwere slain.\n\n[Illustration: _King Mark slew the noble knight Sir Tristram as he sat\nharping before his lady la Belle Isolde_]\n\n\n\n\n                                BOOK V\n\n    OF SIR GALAHAD AND SIR PERCIVAL AND THE QUEST OF THE HOLY GRAIL\n\n\nAt the vigil of Pentecost, when all the fellowship of the Round Table\nwere come unto Camelot, and there they all heard their service, and\nall the tables were covered, ready to set thereon the meat, right\nso entered into the hall a full fair gentlewoman on horseback, that\nhad ridden full fast, for her horse was all to-besweat; [and she\nbesought Sir Launcelot that he would come forth with her into the\nforest for to dub a knight.] Right so departed Sir Launcelot with the\ngentlewoman, and rode till they came into a forest, and into a great\nvalley, where he saw an abbey of nuns; and there was a squire ready to\nopen the gates. And so there came in twelve nuns, which brought with\nthem Galahad, the which was passing fair and well made, that unneth\n[_hardly_] men in the world might not find his match; and all those\nladies wept.\n\n\"Sir,\" said the ladies, \"we bring here this child, the which we have\nnourished, and we pray you for to make him a knight; for of a more\nworthier man's hand may he not receive the order of knighthood.\"\n\nSir Launcelot beheld that young squire, and saw he was seemly and\ndemure as a dove, with all manner of good features, that he wend of\nhis age never to have seen so fair a man of form.\n\nThen said Sir Launcelot, \"Cometh this desire of himself?\"\n\nHe and all they said, \"Yea.\"\n\n\"Then shall he,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"receive the high order of\nknighthood as to-morrow at the reverence of the high feast.\"\n\nThat night Sir Launcelot had passing good cheer, and on the morrow\nat the hour of prime, at Galahad's desire, he made him knight; and\nsaid, \"God make him a good man, for beauty faileth him not as any that\nliveth.\"\n\nSo when the king and all the knights were come from service, the barons\nespied in the sieges of the Round Table, all about written with gold\nletters: \"Here ought to sit\" he, and he \"ought to sit here.\" And thus\nthey went so long until that they came to the Siege Perilous, where\nthey found letters newly written of gold, that said: \"Four hundred\nwinters and fifty-four accomplished after the passion of our Lord Jesu\nChrist ought this siege to be fulfilled.\"\n\nThen all they said, \"This is a marvellous thing, and an adventurous.\"\n\n\"In the name of God,\" said Sir Launcelot; and then he accounted the\nterm of the writing, from the birth of our Lord unto that day.\n\n\"It seemeth me,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"this siege ought to be fulfilled\nthis same day, for this is the feast of Pentecost after the four\nhundred and four and fifty year; and if it would please all parties, I\nwould none of these letters were seen this day, till he be come that\nought to achieve this adventure.\"\n\nThen made they to ordain a cloth of silk for to cover these letters in\nthe Siege Perilous. Then the king bade haste unto dinner.\n\n\"Sir,\" 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.\"\n\n\"Ye say sooth,\" said the king, \"but I had so great joy of Sir Launcelot\nand of his cousins, which be come to the court whole and sound, that I\nbethought me not of my old custom.\"\n\nSo as they stood speaking, in came a squire, and said unto the king,\n\"Sir, I bring unto you marvellous tidings.\"\n\n\"What be they?\" said the king.\n\n\"Sir, there is here beneath at the river a great stone, which I saw\nfleet [_float_] above the water, and therein saw I sticking a sword.\"\n\nThe king said, \"I will see that marvel.\"\n\nSo all the knights went with him, and when they came unto the river,\nthey found there a stone fleeting, as it were of red marble, and\ntherein stuck a fair and a rich sword, and in the pommel thereof were\nprecious stones, wrought with subtle letters of gold. Then the barons\nread the letters, which said in this wise: \"Never shall man take me\nhence, but only he by whom I ought to hang, and he shall be the best\nknight of the world.\"\n\nWhen the king had seen these letters, he said unto Sir\n\nLauncelot, \"Fair sir, this sword ought to be yours, for I am sure that\nye be the best knight of the world.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot answered soberly, \"Certainly, sir, it is not my\nsword. Also, sir, wit ye well I have no hardiness to set my hand to it,\nfor it belongeth not to hang by my side. Also, who assayeth for 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\nSo when they were served, and all the sieges fulfilled save only the\nSiege Perilous, anon there befell a marvellous adventure, that all\nthe doors and the windows of the palace shut by themselves, but for\nall that the hall was not greatly darked, and therewith they were all\nabashed both one and other. Then King Arthur spake first, and said,\n\"Fair fellows and lords, we have seen this day marvels, but or night I\nsuppose we shall see greater marvels.\"\n\nIn the meanwhile came in a good old man and an ancient, clothed all\nin white; and there was no knight that knew from whence he came. And\nwith him he brought a young knight, both on foot, in red arms, without\nsword or shield, save a scabbard hanging by his side; and these words\nhe said, \"Peace be with you, fair lords.\" Then the old man said unto\nKing Arthur, \"Sir, I bring you here a young knight that is of king's\nlineage, and of the kindred of Joseph of Arimathea, whereby the marvels\nof this court and of strange realms shall be fully accomplished.\"\n\nThe king was right glad of his words, and said unto the good man, \"Sir,\nye be right heartily welcome, and the young knight with you.\"\n\nThen the old man made the young knight to unarm him; and he was in\na coat of red sendall, and bare a mantle upon his shoulder that was\nfurred with fine ermines, and put that upon him. And the old man said\nunto the young knight, \"Sir, follow after.\"\n\nAnd anon he led him unto the Siege Perilous, where beside sat Sir\nLauncelot; and the good man lifted up the cloth, and found there\nletters that said thus: \"This is the siege of Galahad the haut [_high_]\nprince.\"\n\nThen all 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.\n\nThen came King Arthur unto Sir Galahad, and said, \"Sir, ye be welcome,\nfor ye shall move many good knights unto the quest of the Sancgreal,\nand ye shall achieve that never knight might bring to an end.\"\n\nThen the king took him by the hand, and went down from the palace to\nshow Sir Galahad the adventure of the stone.\n\nThe queen heard thereof, and came after with many ladies, and showed\nthem the stone where it hoved on the water. \"Sir,\" said the king unto\nSir Galahad, \"here is a great marvel as ever I saw, and right good\nknights have assayed and failed.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Galahad, \"that is no marvel, for this adventure is not\ntheirs, but mine, and for the surety of this sword I brought none with\nme; for here by my side hangeth the scabbard.\"\n\nAnd anon 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.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the king, \"a shield God shall send you.\"\n\n\"Now have I,\" said Sir Galahad, \"that sword that sometime was the good\nknight's Balin le Savage, and he was a passing good man of his hands.\nAnd with this sword he slew his brother Balan, and that was great pity,\nfor he was a good knight, and either slew other through a dolorous\nstroke that Balan gave unto my grandfather King Pelles, the which is\nnot yet whole, nor not shall be till I heal him.\"\n\nTherewith the king and all espied where came riding down the river a\nlady on a white palfrey towards them. Then she saluted the king and the\nqueen, and asked if that Sir Launcelot was there? And then he answered\nhimself, \"I am here, fair lady.\"\n\nThen she said, all with weeping, \"How your great doing is changed sith\nthis day in the morn.\"\n\n\"Damsel, why say ye so?\" said Launcelot.\n\n\"I say you sooth,\" said the damsel, \"for ye were this day the best\nknight 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\nis in remembrance, that ye shall not ween from henceforth that ye be\nthe best knight of the world.\"\n\n\"As touching that,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I know well I was never the\nbest.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the damsel, \"that were ye, and yet are of any sinful man\nof the world; and, sir king, Nacien the hermit sendeth thee word that\nto thee shall befall the greatest worship that ever befell king in\nBritain, and I shall tell you wherefore, for this day the Sancgreal\nappeared in this thy house, and fed thee and all thy fellowship of the\nRound Table.\"\n\nAnd so the damsel took her leave, and departed the same way that she\ncame.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen the king [caused that Queen Guenever should see Sir Galahad] in\nthe visage; and when she beheld him she said, \"Soothly I dare well say\nthat he is Sir Launcelot's son, for never two men resembled more in\nlikeness, therefore it is no marvel though he be of great prowess.\"\n\nSo a lady that stood by the queen said: \"Madam, for God's sake, ought\nhe of right to be so good a knight?\"\n\n\"Yea, forsooth,\" said the queen, \"for he is of all parties come of\nthe best knights of the world, and of the highest lineage, for Sir\nLauncelot is come but of the eighth degree from our Lord Jesu Christ,\nand Sir Galahad is of the ninth degree from our Lord Jesu Christ,\ntherefore I dare well say that they be the greatest gentlemen of all\nthe world.\"\n\nAnd then the king and all the estates went home unto Camelot, and so\nwent to even-song to the great minster; and so after that they went to\nsupper, and every knight sat in their place as they were beforehand.\nThen anon they heard cracking and crying of thunder, that them thought\nthe place should all to-rive [_burst_]; in the midst of the blast\nentered a sunbeam more clear by seven times than ever they saw day,\nand all they were alighted of the grace of the Holy Ghost. Then began\nevery knight to behold other, and either saw other by their seeming\nfairer than ever they saw afore, [and] there was no knight that might\nspeak one word a great while, and so they looked every man on other,\nas they had been dumb. Then there entered into the hall the Holy Grail\ncovered with white samite, but there was none might see it, nor who\nbare it. And there was all the hall full filled with good odors, and\nevery knight had such meats and drinks as he best loved in this world;\nand when the Holy Grail had been borne through the hall, then the holy\nvessel departed suddenly, that they wist not where it became. Then had\nthey all breath to speak. And then the king yielded thankings unto God\nof His good grace that He had sent them.\n\n\"Now,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"we have been served this day of what meats\nand drinks we thought on, but one thing beguiled us, we might not see\nthe Holy Grail, it was so preciously covered: wherefore I will make\nhere avow, that to-morn, without longer abiding, I shall labor in the\nquest of the Sancgreal, that I shall hold me out a twelvemonth and a\nday, or more if need be, and never shall I return again unto the court\ntill I have seen it more openly than it hath been seen here: and if I\nmay not speed, I shall return again as he that may not be against the\nwill of our Lord Jesu Christ.\"\n\nWhen they of the Table Round heard Sir Gawaine say so, they arose up\nthe most part, and made such 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 gainsay their avows.\n\n\"Alas!\" said King Arthur unto Sir Gawaine, \"ye have nigh slain me with\nthe avow and promise that ye have made. For through you ye have bereft\nme of the fairest fellowship and the truest of knighthood that ever\nwere seen together in any realm of the world. For when they depart from\nhence, I am sure they all shall never meet more in this world, for they\nshall die many in the quest. And so it forethinketh [_repenteth_] me a\nlittle, for I have loved them as well as my life, wherefore it shall\ngrieve me right sore the departing of this fellowship. For I have had\nan old custom to have them in my fellowship.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd therewith the tears fell into his eyes, and he said: \"Sir Gawaine,\nSir Gawaine, ye have set me in great sorrow, for I have great doubt\nthat my true fellowship shall never meet more here again.\"\n\nWhen the queen, ladies, and gentlewomen wist these tidings, they had\nsuch sorrow and heaviness that no tongue might tell it, for those\nknights had holden them in honor and charity, but among all other,\nQueen Guenever made great sorrow. \"I marvel,\" said she, \"my lord will\nsuffer them to depart from him.\" Thus was all the court troubled,\nbecause those knights should depart.\n\nAfter this the queen came unto Sir Galahad, and asked him of whence he\nwas, and of what country; he told her of whence he was, and son unto\nSir Launcelot she said he was.\n\nAnd then they went to rest them; and in the honor of the highness of\nSir Galahad he was led into King Arthur's chamber, and there he rested\nhim in his own bed; and as soon as it was daylight the king arose, for\nhe had taken no rest of all that night for sorrow.\n\nSo anon Sir Launcelot and Sir Gawaine commanded their men to bring\ntheir arms; and when they [were all armed, then the king would know\nhow many they were, and they found by tale [_count_] that they were an\nhundred and fifty, and all knights of the Round Table.]\n\nAnd so they mounted their horses, and rode through the streets of\nCamelot, and there was weeping of the rich and poor, and the king\nturned away and might not speak for weeping.\n\nSo within a while they came to a city and a castle that hight [_was\nnamed_] Vagon; there they entered into the castle, and the lord of that\ncastle was an old man that hight Vagon, and he was a good man of his\nliving, and set open the gates, and made them all the good cheer that\nhe might.\n\nAnd then they departed on the morrow with weeping and mourning cheer,\nand every knight took the way that him best liked.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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\nto a white abbey, and there he was received with great reverence, and\nled to a chamber; and there 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.\n\n\"Sirs,\" said Sir Galahad, \"what adventure brought you hither?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said they, \"it is told us that within this place is a shield\nthat no man may bear about his neck but if that he be mischieved or\ndead within three days, or else maimed forever.\"\n\n\"Ah, sir,\" said King Bagdemagus, \"I shall bear it to-morrow for to\nassay this strange adventure.\"\n\n\"In the name of God,\" said Sir Galahad.\n\n\"Sir,\" said King Bagdemagus, \"and I may not achieve the adventure of\nthis shield, ye shall take it upon you, for I am sure ye shall not\nfail.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Galahad, \"I agree right well thereto, for I have no\nshield.\"\n\nSo on the morrow they arose and heard mass. Then King Bagdemagus asked\nwhere the adventurous shield was; anon a monk led him behind an altar,\nwhere the shield hung as white as any snow, but in the midst was a red\ncross.\n\n\"Sir,\" said the monk, \"this shield ought not to be hanged about no\nknight's neck, but he be the worthiest knight of the world, and\ntherefore I counsel you knights to be well advised.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said King Bagdemagus, \"I wot well that I am not the best knight\nof the world, but yet shall I assay to bear it.\"\n\nAnd 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.\"\n\n\"I shall abide you here,\" said Galahad.\n\nThen King Bagdemagus took with him a squire, the which should bring\ntidings unto Sir Galahad how he sped. Then when they had ridden a two\nmile, and came in a fair valley afore an hermitage, then they saw a\ngoodly knight come from that part in white armor, horse and all, and\nhe came as fast as his horse might run with his spear in the rest, and\nKing Bagdemagus dressed his spear against him, and brake it upon the\nwhite knight; but the other struck him so hard that he brake the mails,\nand thrust him through the right shoulder, for the shield covered him\nnot as at that time, and so he bare him from his horse, and therewith\nhe alighted and took the white shield from him, saying, \"Knight, thou\nhast done thyself great folly, for this shield ought not to be borne\nbut by him that shall have no peer that liveth.\"\n\nAnd then he came to King Bagdemagus' squire and said, \"Bear this shield\nunto the good knight Sir Galahad, that thou left in the abbey, and\ngreet him well from me.\"\n\nAnd the squire went unto Bagdemagus and asked him whether he were sore\nwounded or not?\n\n\"Yea, forsooth,\" said he, \"I shall escape hard from the death.\"\n\nThen he fetched his horse, and brought him with great pain unto an\nabbey. Then was he taken down softly, and unarmed, and laid in a bed,\nand there was looked to his wounds. And he lay there long, and escaped\nhard with the life.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Sir Galahad,\" said the squire, \"that knight that wounded Bagdemagus\nsendeth you greeting, and bade that ye should bear this shield,\nwherethrough great adventures should befall.\"\n\n\"Now blessed be God and fortune,\" said Sir Galahad.\n\nAnd then he asked his arms, and mounted upon his horse, and hung the\nwhite shield about his neck, and commended them unto God. And Sir\nUwaine said he would bear him fellowship, if it pleased him.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Galahad, \"that may ye not, for I must go alone, save\nthis squire that shall bear me fellowship.\" And so departed Sir Uwaine.\n\nThen within a while came Sir Galahad there as the white knight abode\nhim by the hermitage, and every each saluted other courteously.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Galahad, \"by this shield been fall many marvels.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the knight, \"it befell, after the passion of our Lord\nJesu Christ thirty year, that Joseph of Arimathea, the gentle knight\nthat took down our Lord from the cross, at that time he departed from\nJerusalem with a great part of his kindred with him, and so they\nlabored till they came to a city that hight Sarras. And at that same\nhour that Joseph came unto Sarras, there was a king that hight Evelake,\nthat had great war against the Saracens, and in especial against one\nSaracen, the which was King Evelake's cousin, a rich king and a mighty,\nthe which marched nigh this land, and his name was called Tollome le\nFeintes. So upon a day these two met to do battle. Then Joseph, the\nson of Joseph of Arimathea, went unto King Evelake, and told him that\nhe would be discomfited and slain but if he left his believe of the\nold law and believe upon the new law. And then he showed him the right\nbelieve of the Holy Trinity, the which he agreed with all his heart,\nand there this shield was made for King Evelake, in the name of Him\nthat died upon the cross; and then through his good believe he had the\nbetter of King Tollome. For when King Evelake was in the battle, there\nwas a cloth set afore the shield, and when he was in the greatest peril\nhe let put away the cloth, and then anon his enemies saw a figure of\na man upon the cross, wherethrough they were discomfited. And so it\nbefell that a man of King Evelake's had his hand smitten off, and bare\nhis hand in his other hand, and Joseph called that man unto him, and\nbade him go with good devotion and touch the cross; and as soon as that\nman had touched the cross with his hand it was as whole as ever it was\nbefore. Not long after that, Joseph was laid in his death bed, and when\nKing Evelake saw that, he made great sorrow, and said: 'For thy love I\nhave left my country, and sith [_since_] thou shalt out of this world,\nleave me some token that I may think on thee.' 'That will I do right\ngladly,' said Joseph. 'Now bring me the shield that I took you when ye\nwent into the battle against King Tollome.' Then Joseph bled sore that\nhe might not by no means be stanched, and there upon that same shield\nhe made a cross of his own blood. 'Now ye shall never see this shield\nbut that ye shall think on me, and it shall be always as fresh as it\nis now, and never shall no man bear this shield about his neck but he\nshall repent it, unto the time that Galahad the good knight bear it,\nand the last of my lineage shall have it about his neck, that shall do\nmany marvellous deeds.' 'Now,' said King Evelake, 'where shall I put\nthis shield, that this worthy knight may have it?' 'Ye shall leave it\nthere as Nacien the hermit shall be put after his death. For thither\nshall that good knight come the fifteenth day after that he shall\nreceive the order of knighthood. And so that day that they set is this\ntime that ye have his shield. And in the same abbey lieth Nacien the\nhermit.'\"\n\nAnd then the white knight vanished away. Anon, as the squire had heard\nthese words, he alighted off his hackney, and kneeled down at Galahad's\nfeet, and prayed him that he might go with him till he had made him\nknight. So Sir Galahad granted him, and turned again unto the abbey\nthere they came from. And there men made great joy of Sir Galahad.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen as Sir Galahad heard this, he thanked God, and took his horse,\nand he had not ridden but half a mile, he saw in a valley before him\na strong castle with deep ditches, and there ran beside a fair river,\nthe which hight Sevarne; and there he met with a man of great age, and\neither saluted other, and Sir Galahad asked him what was the castle's\nname.\n\n\"Fair sir,\" said he, \"it is the Castle of Maidens.\"\n\n\"That is a cursed castle,\" said Sir Galahad, \"and all they that been\nconversant therein, for all pity is out thereof, and all hardiness and\nmischief is therein.\"\n\n\"Therefore I counsel you, sir knight,\" said the old man, \"to return\nagain.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Galahad, \"wit ye well I shall not return again.\"\n\nThen looked Sir Galahad on his armor that nothing failed him, and then\nhe put his shield afore him; and anon there met him seven maidens, that\nsaid unto him, \"Sir knight, ye ride here in a great folly, for ye have\nthe waters for to pass over.\"\n\n\"Why should I not pass the water?\" said Sir Galahad.\n\nSo rode he away from them, and met with a squire that said, \"Knight,\nthose knights in the castle defy you, and forbid you ye go no further\ntill that they wit what ye would.\"\n\n\"Fair sir,\" said Galahad, \"I come for to destroy the wicked custom of\nthis castle.\"\n\n\"Sir, and ye will abide by that, ye shall have enough to do.\"\n\n\"Go you now,\" said Galahad, \"and haste my needs.\"\n\nThen the squire entered into the castle. And anon after there came out\nof the castle seven knights, and all were brethren. And when they saw\nGalahad, they cried, \"Knight, keep thee, for we assure thee nothing but\ndeath.\"\n\n\"Why,\" said Galahad, \"will ye all have ado with me at once?\"\n\n\"Yea,\" said they, \"thereto mayest thou trust.\"\n\nThen Galahad put forth his spear, and smote the foremost to the earth,\nthat near he brake his neck. And therewith all the other smote him on\nhis shield great strokes, so that their spears brake. Then Sir Galahad\ndrew out his sword, and set upon them so hard that it was marvel to see\nit, and so, through great force, he made them to forsake the field; and\nGalahad chased them till they entered into the castle, and so passed\nthrough the castle at another gate. And there met Sir Galahad an old\nman clothed in religious clothing, and said, \"Sir, have here the keys\nof this castle.\"\n\nThen Sir Galahad opened the gates, and saw so much people in the\nstreets that he might not number them, and all said, \"Sir, ye be\nwelcome, for long have we abiden here our deliverance.\"\n\nThen came to him a gentlewoman, and said, \"These knights be fled, but\nthey will come again this night, and here to begin again their evil\ncustom.\"\n\n\"What will ye that I shall do?\" said Galahad.\n\n\"Sir,\" 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.\"\n\n\"I will well,\" said Galahad.\n\nAnd there she brought him an horn of ivory, bounden with gold, and\nsaid, \"Sir, blow ye this horn, which will be heard two mile about this\ncastle.\"\n\nAnd when Sir Galahad had blown the horn, he set him down upon a bed.\nThen came there a priest unto Sir Galahad, and said, \"Sir, it is\npast a seven year that these seven brethren came into this castle,\nand herborowed [_harbored_] with the lord of this castle, which hight\nthe duke Lianour; and he was lord of all this country. And so when\nthey espied the duke's daughter that was a fair woman, then by their\nfalse covin [_conspiracy_] 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\nunder their obeisance, and in great servage and truage, robbing and\npulling [_pillaging_] the poor common people of all that they had. So\nit happened upon a day that the duke's daughter said, 'Ye have done\nto me great wrong to slay mine own father and my brother, and thus\nto hold our lands; not for then,' said she, 'ye shall not hold this\ncastle for many years; for by one knight ye shall be overcome.' Thus\nshe prophesied seven year before. 'Well,' said the seven knights,\n'sithence [_since_] ye say so, there shall never lady nor knight pass\nthis castle, but they shall abide mauger [_spite of_] their heads, or\ndie therefore, till that knight be come by whom we shall leese [_lose_]\nthis castle.' And therefore it is called the maidens' castle, for they\nhave devoured many maidens.\"\n\n\"Now,\" said Sir Galahad, \"is she here for whom this castle was lost.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the priest, \"she died within three nights after, and\nsithence have they kept her young sister, which endureth great pain,\nwith moe other ladies.\"\n\nBy this were the knights of the country come. And then he made them do\nhomage and fealty to the duke's daughter, and set them in great ease\nof heart. And in the morn there came one to Galahad, and told him how\nthat Gawaine, Gareth, and Uwaine had slain the seven brethren.\n\n\"I suppose well,\" said Sir Galahad: and took his armor and his horse,\nand commended them unto God.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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 Percival, 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 Percival,\nand smote him so on the helm that it rove to the coif of steel, and had\nnot the sword swerved Sir Percival had been slain, and with the stroke\nhe fell out of his saddle. This joust was done before the hermitage\nwhere a recluse dwelled. And when she saw Sir Galahad ride, she said,\n\"God be with thee, best knight of the world. Ah, certes,\" said she\nall aloud, that Launcelot and Percival might hear it, \"and yonder two\nknights had known thee as well as I do, they would not have encountered\nwith thee.\"\n\nWhen Sir Galahad heard her say so he was sore adread to be known:\ntherewith he smote his horse with his spurs, and then rode a great pace\nfroward them. Then perceived they both that he was Galahad, and up they\ngat on their horses, and rode fast after him, but in a while he was out\nof their sight.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Then it fell that Sir Percival's horse was slain; and he gat him a\nhackney from a yeoman that he met, and the hackney was slain. Then\nSir Percival cast away his helm and sword, and said, \"Now am I a very\nwretch, cursed, and most unhappy above all other knights.\"]\n\nSo in this sorrow he abode all that day, till it was night, and then he\nwas faint, and laid him down and slept till it was midnight. And then\nhe awaked, and saw afore him a woman which said unto him, \"Abide me\nhere, and I shall go fetch you an horse.\"\n\nAnd so she came soon again, and brought an horse with her that was\nblack. When Sir Percival beheld that horse, he marvelled that it was so\ngreat and so well apparelled; and for then he was so hardy, he leaped\nupon him, and took none heed of himself. And so anon as he was upon\nhim he thrust to him with his spurs, and so rode by a forest, and the\nmoon shone clear. And within an hour and less, he bare him four days'\njourney thence, till he came to a rough water the which roared, and his\nhorse would have borne him into it.\n\nAnd when Sir Percival came nigh the brim, and saw the water so\nboisterous, he doubted to overpass it. And then he made the sign of the\ncross in his forehead. When the fiend felt him so charged, he shook off\nSir Percival, and he went into the water, crying and roaring, making\ngreat sorrow; and it seemed unto him that the water burnt. Then Sir\nPercival perceived it was a fiend, the which would have brought him\nunto his perdition.\n\nAnd so he prayed all that night, till on the morn that it was day. Then\nhe saw that he was in a wild mountain the which was closed with the sea\nnigh all about, that he might see no land about him which might relieve\nhim, but wild beasts. And then he went into a valley, and there he\nsaw a young serpent bring a young lion by the neck, and so he came by\nSir Percival. With that came a great lion crying and roaring after the\nserpent. And as fast as Sir Percival saw this, he marvelled, and hied\nhim thither, but anon the lion had overtaken the serpent, and began\nbattle with him. And then Sir Percival thought to help the lion, for he\nwas the more natural beast of the two; and therewith he drew his sword,\nand set his shield afore him, and there gave the serpent such a buffet\nthat he had a deadly wound. When the lion saw that, he made no semblant\nto fight with him, but made him all the cheer that a beast might make a\nman. Then Sir Percival perceived that, and cast down his shield, which\nwas broken, 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 Percival alone.\n\nThus when Sir Percival had prayed, he saw the lion come towards him,\nand then he couched down at his feet. And so all that night the lion\nand he slept together; and when Sir Percival 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,\n\"Sir Percival, my lord saluteth thee, and sendeth thee word that thou\narray thee and make thee ready, for to-morrow thou must fight with the\nstrongest champion of the world.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Then, after many great deeds, it befell on a certain day that as the\ngood knight Galahad rode, he was met by a damsel on a palfrey, and\nshe led him towards the sea. And so at the seaside they found a ship\nwherein they entered, and Sir Bors and Sir Percival being in that ship\ngreeted them with joy.]\n\nBy then the ship went from the land of Logris, and by adventure it\narrived up betwixt two rocks passing great and marvellous, but there\nthey might not land, for there was a swallow of the sea, save there was\nanother ship, and upon it they might go without danger.\n\n\"Go we thither,\" said the gentlewoman, \"and there shall we see\nadventures, for so is our Lord's will.\"\n\nAnd when they came thither, they found the ship rich enough, but they\nfound 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:--\n\n\"Thou man which shall enter into this ship, beware thou be in steadfast\nbelief, for I am faith, and therefore beware how thou enterest, for and\nthou fail I shall not help thee.\"\n\nThen said the gentlewoman, \"Percival, wot ye what I am?\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" said he, \"not to my witting.\"\n\n\"Wit ye well,\" said she, \"I am thy sister, that am daughter of King\nPellinore, and therefore wit ye well that ye are the man in the world\nthat I most love; and if ye be not in perfect belief, enter not in no\nmanner of wise, for then should ye perish in the ship, for it is so\nperfect it will suffer no sin in it.\"\n\nAnd when Sir Percival knew that she was his sister, he was inwardly\nglad, and said, \"Fair sister, I shall enter therein, for if I be a\nmiss-creature or an untrue knight, there shall I perish.\"\n\nIn the meanwhile Sir Galahad blessed him, and entered therein, and then\nnext the gentlewoman, and then Sir Bors and Sir Percival. And when they\nwere therein, they found it so marvellous fair and rich, that they had\ngreat marvel thereof. And in the midst of the ship was a fair bed, and\nSir Galahad went thereto, and found there a crown of silk, and at the\nfeet was a sword rich and fair, and it was drawn out of the sheath half\na foot and more, and the sword was of divers fashions, and the pommel\nwas of stone, and there was in him all manner of colors that any man\nmight find, and every each of the colors had divers virtues, and the\nscales of the haft were of two ribs of divers beasts. The one beast was\na serpent, which was conversant in Calidone, and is called the serpent\nof the fiend. And the bone of him is of such a virtue, that there is\nno hand 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.\nAnd as for this sword there shall never man begripe it at the handle\nbut one, but he shall pass all other.\n\n\"In the name of God,\" said Sir Percival, \"I shall essay to handle it.\"\n\nSo he set his hand to the sword, but he might not begripe it.\n\n\"By my faith,\" said he, \"now have I failed.\"\n\nSir Bors set his hand thereto and failed. Then Sir Galahad beheld the\nsword, and saw the letters like blood, that said, \"Let see who shall\nassay to draw me out of my sheath, but if he be more hardier than\nother, and who that draweth me, wit ye well that he shall never fail of\nshame of his body, or to be wounded to the death.\"\n\n\"By my faith,\" said Galahad, \"I would draw this sword out of the\nsheath, but the offending is so great that I shall not set my hand\nthereto.\"\n\n\"Now sir,\" said the gentlewoman, \"wit ye well that the drawing of this\nsword is forbidden to all men, save all only unto you. Also this ship\narrived in the realm of Logris [_England_], and that time was deadly\nwar between King Labor, which was father unto the maimed king, and King\nHurlame, which was a Saracen. But then was he newly christened, so that\nmen held him afterwards one of the wittiest men of the world. And so\nupon a day it befell that King Labor and King Hurlame had assembled\ntheir folk upon the sea, where this ship was arrived, and there King\nHurlame was discomfit, and his men slain, and he was afeared to be\ndead, and fled to his ship, and there found this sword, and drew\nit, and came out and found King Labor, the man in the world of all\nChristendom in whom was then the greatest faith. And when King Hurlame\nsaw King Labor, he dressed this sword, and smote him upon the helm\nso hard, that he clave him and his horse to the earth with the first\nstroke of his sword. And it was in the realm of Logris; and so befell\ngreat pestilence and great harm to both realms. For sith increased\ncorn nor grass, nor well nigh no fruit, nor in the water was no fish,\nwherefore men call it the lands of the two marches, the waste land for\nthe dolorous stroke. And when King Hurlame saw that this sword was so\nkerving [_sharp_], he returned again to fetch the scabbard, and so came\ninto this ship, and entered and put the sword into the scabbard; and as\nsoon as he had done so, he fell down dead before the bed. Thus was the\nsword proved, that none that drew it but he were dead or maimed.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"there was a king that hight Pelles the Maimed King.\nAnd while he might ride, he supported much Christendom, and holy\nChurch. So upon a day he hunted in a wood of his which lasted unto the\nsea, and at the last he lost his hounds and his knights, save only one;\nand there he and his knight went till that they came toward Ireland,\nand there he found the ship. And when he saw the letters and understood\nthem, yet he entered, for he was right perfect of his life; but his\nknight had none hardiness to enter, and there found he this sword,\nand drew it out as much as ye may see. So therewith entered a spear,\nwherewith he was smitten through both the thighs, and never sith might\nhe be healed, nor nought shall, tofore we come to him. Thus, said she,\nwas King Pelles, your grandsire, maimed for his hardiness.\"\n\n\"In the name of God, damsel,\" said Galahad.\n\nSo they went toward the bed to behold all about it, and above the head\nthere hung two swords. Also there were two spindles which were as white\nas any snow, and other that were as red as blood, and other above green\nas any emerald: of these three colors were the spindles, and of natural\ncolor within, and without any painting.\n\n\"These spindles,\" said the damsel, \"were when sinful Eve came to\ngather fruit, for which Adam and she were put out of paradise, she\ntook with her the bough on which the apple hung. Then perceived she\nthat the branch was fair and green, and she remembered her the loss\nwhich came from the tree, then she thought to keep the branch as long\nas she might; and because she had no coffer to keep it in, she put it\ninto the ground. So by the will of our Lord the branch grew to a great\ntree within a little while, and was as white as any snow, branches,\nboughs, and leaves, that it was a token a maid planted it. And anon\nthe tree, that was white, became as green as any grass, and all that\ncame of it. And so it befell many days after, under the same tree, Cain\nslew his brother Abel, whereof befell full great marvel; for anon as\nAbel had received the death under the green tree, it lost the green\ncolor and became red, and that was in tokening of the blood; and anon\nall the plants died thereof, but the tree grew and waxed marvellous\nfair, and it was the fairest tree and the most delectable that any\nman might behold: and so died the plants that grew out of it before\nthe time that Abel was slain under it. So long endured the tree till\nthat Solomon, King David's son, reigned and held the land after his\nfather. This Solomon was wise and knew the virtues of stones and of\ntrees, and so he knew the course of the stars, and many other things.\nThis King Solomon had an evil wife, wherethrough he wend that there\nhad never been no good woman; and so he despised them in his books. So\na voice answered him once, 'Solomon, if heaviness come unto a man by\na woman, 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 showed 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 [pure man] of your blood, and he\nshall be as good a knight as Duke Josua thy brother-in-law.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n'Now 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\nknow it at some season, and so she waited her time, and asked of him\nthe cause of his studying, and there he told her altogether how the\nvoice told him. 'Well,' said she, 'I shall let make a ship of the best\nwood and most durable that men may find.' So Solomon sent for all\nthe carpenters of the land and the best. And when they had made the\nship, the lady said to Solomon, 'Sir,' said she, 'since it is so that\nthis knight ought to pass all other knights of chivalry which have\nbeen tofore him, and shall come after him, moreover I shall tell you,'\nsaid she, 'ye shall go into our Lord's temple, whereas is King David's\nsword, your father, the which is the marvellousest and sharpest that\never was taken in any knight's hand. Therefore take that, and take off\nthe pommel, and thereto make ye a pommel of precious stones, that it be\nso subtilly made that no man perceive it but that they be all one. And\nafter make there an hilt so marvellously and wonderly that no man may\nknow it; and after make a marvellous sheath; and when you have made all\nthis, I shall let make a girdle thereto, such as shall please you.' All\nthis King Solomon let make as she devised, both the ship and all the\nremnant. And when the ship was ready in the sea for to sail, the lady\nlet make a great bed and marvellous rich, and set her upon the bed's\nhead covered with silk, and laid the sword at the bed's feet; and the\ngirdles were of hemp. And therewith was the king angry. 'Sir, wit ye\nwell,' said she, 'that I have none so high a thing that were worthy to\nsustain so big a sword, and a maid shall bring other knights thereto,\nbut I wot not when it shall be, nor what time.' And there she let make\na covering to the ship, of cloth of silk that shall never rot for no\nmanner of weather. Yet went that lady and made a carpenter to come to\nthat tree which Abel was slain under. 'Now,' said she, 'carve me out\nof this tree as much wood as will make me a spindle.' 'Ah! madam,'\nsaid the carpenter, 'this is the tree the which our first mother\nplanted.' 'Do it,' said she, 'or else I shall destroy thee.' Anon, as\nthe carpenter began to work, there came out drops of blood, and then\nwould he have left, but she would not suffer him. And so he took away\nas much wood as might well make a spindle; and so she made him to take\nas much of the green tree and of the white tree. And when these three\nspindles were shapen, she made them to be fastened on the bed. When\nSolomon saw this he said to his wife, 'Ye have done marvellously, for\nthough all the world were here now, they could not tell wherefore all\nthis was made, but our Lord himself, and thou that hast done it wottest\nnot what it shall betoken.' 'Now let it be,' said she, 'for ye shall\nhear tidings sooner than ye ween.'\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThat night lay King Solomon before the ship with a small fellowship.\nAnd when King Solomon was on sleep, him thought there came from heaven\na great company of angels, and alighted into the ship and took water\nwhich was brought by an angel in a vessel of silver, and besprent\n[_besprinkled_] all the ship; and after he came to the sword, and drew\nletters on the hilt. And after went to the ship's board, and wrote\nthere other letters, which said: 'Thou man that wilt enter within me,\nbeware that thou be full within the faith, for I ne [_not_] am but\nfaith and belief.' When Solomon espied these letters he was abashed, so\nthat he durst not enter, and so drew him aback, and the ship was anon\nshoven in the sea, and he went so fast that he lost sight of him within\na little while. And then a little voice said, 'Solomon, the last\nknight of thy lineage shall rest in this bed.' Then went Solomon and\nawaked his wife and told her of the adventures of the ship.\n\nNow a great while the three fellows [_Galahad, and his two friends_]\nbeheld the bed and the three spindles. Then they were at certain that\nthey were of natural colors, without painting. Then they lifted up a\ncloth which was above the ground, and there they found a rich purse by\nseeming. And Percival took it, and found therein a writ, and so he read\nit, and devised the manner of the spindles, and of the ship, whence it\ncame, and by whom it was made.\n\n\"Now,\" said Galahad, \"where shall we find the gentlewoman that shall\nmake new girdles to the sword?\"\n\n\"Fair sir,\" said Percival's sister, \"dismay you not, for by the leave\nof God I shall let make a girdle to the sword, such one as shall belong\nthereto.\"\n\nAnd then she opened a box, and took out girdles which were seemly\nwrought with golden threads, and thereupon were set full of precious\nstones, and a rich buckle of gold.\n\n\"Lo, lords,\" said the gentlewoman, \"here is a girdle that ought to be\nset about the sword; and wit ye well that the greatest part of this\ngirdle was made of my hair, the which I loved full well while I was\na woman of the world; but as soon as I wist that this adventure was\nordained me, I clipped off my hair, and made this girdle in the name of\nGod.\"\n\n\"Ye are well found,\" said Sir Bors, \"for truly ye have put us out of a\ngreat pain, wherein we should have entered ne had your teaching been.\"\n\nThen went the gentlewoman and set it upon the girdle of the sword.\n\n\"Now,\" said the three fellows, \"what is the right name of the sword,\nand what shall we call it?\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said she, \"the name of the sword is the Sword with the Strange\nGirdles, and the scabbard, Mover of Blood; for no man that hath blood\nin him shall never see the one part of the scabbard which was made of\nthe tree of life.\"\n\nThen they said unto Sir Galahad, \"In the name of Jesu Christ, we pray\nyou that ye gird you with this sword, which hath been so much desired\nin the realm of Logris.\"\n\n\"Now let me begin,\" said Sir Galahad, \"to grip this sword for to give\nyou courage; but wot ye well that it belongeth no more to me than it\ndoth to you.\"\n\nAnd then he gripped about it with his fingers a great deal, and then\nshe girded him about the middle with the sword.\n\n\"Now reck I not though I die, for now I hold me one of the blessed\nmaidens of the world, which hath made thee the worthiest knight of the\nworld.\"\n\n\"Fair damsel,\" said Sir Galahad, \"ye have done so much that I shall be\nyour knight all the days of my life.\"\n\nThen they went from that ship, and went into the other ship; and anon\nthe wind drove them into the sea a great pace, but they had no victual.\nBut it happened that they came on the morrow to a castle which men\ncall Courteloise that was in the marches of Scotland. And when they\nhad passed the port, the gentlewoman said, \"Lords, here be men arriven\nthat, and they wist that ye were of King Arthur's court, ye should be\nassailed anon.\"\n\n\"Damsel,\" said Galahad, \"he that cast us out of the rock shall deliver\nus from them.\"\n\n[And it happened after that Sir Percival's sister of her own wish died\nfor the healing of a certain lady, and the lady was healed. Then, as\nshe had desired beforehand, Sir Percival laid her in a barge and]\ncovered it with silk; and the wind arose and drove the barge from land,\nand all knights beheld it till it was out of their sight.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhen Sir Launcelot was come to the water of Mortaise, he was in great\nperil, and so he laid him down and slept, and took his adventure that\nGod would send him. So when he was asleep, there came a vision unto\nhim, and said, \"Launcelot, arise up and take thine armor, and enter\ninto the first ship that thou shalt find.\"\n\nAnd when he had heard these words, he started up, and saw a great\nclearness about him; and then he lifted up his hand and blessed him,\nand so took his armor, and made him ready. And by adventure he came by\na strand, and found a ship the which was without sail or oars; and as\nsoon as he was within the ship, there he felt the most sweetest savor\nthat ever he felt, and he was fulfilled with all things that he thought\non or desired. And so in this joy he lay him down on the ship-board,\nand slept till daylight. And when he awoke, he found there a fair bed,\nand therein lying a gentlewoman dead, the which was Sir Percival's\nsister. And as Sir Launcelot beheld her, he espied in her right hand\na writing, the which he read, wherein he found all the adventures as\nye have heard before, and of what lineage she was come. So with this\ngentlewoman Sir Launcelot was a month and more.\n\nSo upon a night he went to play him by the water's side, for he was\nsomewhat weary of the ship, and then he listened, and heard an horse\ncome, and one riding upon him. And when he came nigh he seemed a\nknight. And so he let him pass, and went there as the ship was, and\nthere he alighted, and took the saddle and the bridle and put the horse\nfrom him, and went into the ship. And then Launcelot dressed unto him\nand said, \"Ye be welcome.\"\n\nAnd he answered and saluted him again, and asked him, \"What is your\nname? for much my heart giveth unto you.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said he, \"my name is Launcelot du Lake.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said he, \"then be ye welcome, for ye were the beginner of me in\nthis world.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said he, \"are ye Galahad?\"\n\n\"Yea forsooth,\" said he.\n\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,\nand many a friendly word spoken between, as kind [_nature_] would,\nthe which is no need here to be rehearsed. And there every each told\nother of their adventures and marvels that were befallen to them in\nmany journeys, sith that they departed from the court. Anon as Galahad\nsaw the gentlewoman dead in the bed, he knew her well enough, and told\ngreat worship of her, and that she was the best maid living, and it was\ngreat pity of her death. But when Launcelot heard how the marvellous\nsword was gotten, and who made it, and all the marvels rehearsed\nafore, then he prayed Galahad his son that he would show him the sword,\nand so he did. And anon he kissed the pommel, and the hilts, and the\nscabbard.\n\n\"Truly,\" said Launcelot, \"never erst knew I of so high adventures\ndone, and so marvellous and strange.\" So dwelled Launcelot and Galahad\nwithin that ship half a year, and served God daily and nightly with\nall their power. And often they arrived in isles far from folk, where\nthere repaired none but wild beasts; and there they found many strange\nadventures and perilous, which they brought to an end.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Then on a certain day, a knight in white called to Sir Galahad from\nthe shore to leave that ship and fare on his quest, and Sir Galahad\ndeparted from his father Sir Launcelot, and rode off upon the shore.\nBut Sir Launcelot drove a month through the sea, ever praying for news\nof the Sancgreal.]\n\nSo it befell on a night, at midnight he arrived afore a castle, on the\nback side, which was rich and fair. And there was a postern opened\ntowards the sea, and was open without any keeping, save two lions kept\nthe entry; and the moon shone clear. Anon Sir Launcelot heard a voice\nthat said, \"Launcelot, go out of this ship, and enter into the castle,\nwhere thou shalt see a great part of thy desire.\" Then he ran to his\narms, and so armed him, and so he went to the gate, and saw the lions.\nThen set he hand to his sword, and drew it. Then there came a dwarf\nsuddenly, and smote him on the arm so sore that the sword fell out of\nhis hand. Then took he again his sword, and put it up in his sheath,\nand make a cross in his forehead, and came to the lions, and they made\nsemblant to do him harm. Notwithstanding he passed by them without\nhurt, and entered into the castle to the chief fortress, and there were\nthey all at rest. Then Launcelot entered in so armed, for he found\nno gate nor door but it was open. And at the last he found a chamber\nwhereof the door was shut, and he set his hand thereto to have opened\nit, but he might not.\n\nThen he enforced him mickle [_much_] to undo the door. Then he\nlistened, and heard a voice which sang so sweetly that it seemed none\nearthly thing. Then Sir Launcelot kneeled down before the chamber,\nfor well wist he that there was the Sancgreal within that chamber.\nThen said he, \"Fair sweet Father Jesu Christ, if ever I did thing that\npleased the Lord, for thy pity have me not in despite for my sins done\naforetime, and that thou show me something of that I seek!\"\n\nAnd with that he saw the chamber door open, and there came out a great\nclearness, that the house was as bright as all the torches of the world\nhad been there. So came he to the chamber door, and would have entered.\nAnd anon a voice said to him, \"Flee, Launcelot, and enter not, for thou\noughtest not to do it: and if thou enter thou shalt forthink it.\" Then\nhe withdrew him aback right heavy. Then looked he up in the midst of\nthe chamber, and saw a table of silver, and the holy vessel covered\nwith red samite, and many angels about it.\n\nRight soon he entered into the chamber, and came towards the table\nof silver; and, when he came nigh, he felt a breath, that him thought\nwas entermedled [_mingled_] with fire, which smote him so sore in the\nvisage, that him thought it all to-burnt his visage, and therewith he\nfell to the ground, and had no power to arise. Then felt he many hands\nabout him, which took him up, and bare him out of the chamber without\nany amending of his sowne [_swoon_], and left him there seeming dead\nto all the people. So on the morrow, when it was fair daylight, they\nwithin were arisen, and found Sir Launcelot lying before the chamber\ndoor: all they marvelled how he came in. And so they took him by every\npart of the body, and bare him into a chamber, and laid him in a rich\nbed far from all folk.\n\n[Thus lay Sir Launcelot twenty-four days and nights, like as it were a\npunishment for the twenty-four years that he had been a sinner. And at\nthe last he recovered himself.]\n\nSo Sir Launcelot departed, and took his armor, and said that he would\ngo see the realm of Logris, \"which I have not seen in a twelvemonth.\"\nAnd therewith he [took his leave and] rode through many realms. And\nhe turned unto Camelot, where he found King Arthur and the queen. But\nmany of the knights of the Round Table were slain and destroyed, more\nthan half. And so three were come home, Ector, Gawaine, and Lionel, and\nmany other that need not to be rehearsed. And all the court was passing\nglad of 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, Percival, and Bors, which that he knew by the letter of the\ndead damsel, and as Galahad had told him.\n\n\"Now, God would,\" said the king, \"that they were all three here.\"\n\n\"That shall never be,\" said Launcelot, \"for two of them shall ye never\nsee, but one of them shall come again.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Now Sir Galahad rode many journeys in vain, and afterward, meeting\nwith Sir Bors and Sir Percival, they knew many wonders and adventures;\ntill on a certain day they came down into a ship, and in the midst\nthereof they found a table of silver and the Holy Grail all covered\nwith white samite. And the Holy Grail wrought many miracles, comforting\nthem in prison, feeding them, and healing the sick. And it befell that\nthe Paynim king who had cast them in prison died, and the people by one\naccord chose Sir Galahad to be king, and he reigned there a year. And\non a certain morning Sir Galahad, having risen early, and come unto the\npalace, saw before him the Holy Grail, and a man kneeling, and about\nhim a great fellowship of angels. Then Sir Galahad knew that his hour\nwas come. And he] went to Sir Percival, and kissed him and commended\nhim to God; and he went to Sir Bors, and kissed him and commended him\nto God, and said, \"Fair lord, salute me to my lord Sir Launcelot, my\nfather.\"\n\nAnd therewith he kneeled down before the table and made his prayers;\nand then suddenly his soul departed, and a great multitude of angels\nbare his soul up to heaven. Also the two fellows saw come from heaven\nan hand, but they saw not the body; and then it came to the [Holy\nGrail] and took it, and the spear, and so bare it to heaven.\n\nSince was there never man so hardy to say that he had seen the Holy\nGrail.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[Then after a year and two months, Sir Percival, having lived a holy\nlife in a hermitage, departed away from this world. And having buried\nhim by his sister and Sir Galahad, Sir Bors entered into a ship and\ncame at last to Logris, and rode fast to Camelot where King Arthur was.\nAnd there was great joy made of him, for they weened he had been dead.]\n\nAnd anon Sir Bors said to Sir Launcelot, \"Galahad, your own son saluted\nyou by me, and after you King Arthur, and all the court, and so did Sir\nPercival: for I buried them with mine own hands in the city of Sarras.\nAlso, Sir Launcelot, Galahad prayeth you to remember of this uncertain\nworld, as ye behight him when ye were together more than half a year.\"\n\n\"This is true,\" said Launcelot; \"now I trust to God his prayer shall\navail me.\"\n\nThen Launcelot took Sir Bors in his arms, and said, \"Gentle cousin, ye\nare right welcome to me, and all that ever I may do for you and for\nyours, ye shall find my poor body ready at all times whiles the spirit\nis in it, and that I promise you faithfully, and never to fail. And wit\nye well, gentle cousin Sir Bors, that ye and I will never depart in\nsunder whilst our lives may last.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said he, \"I will as ye will.\"\n\n\n\n\n                                BOOK VI\n\n                      OF THE FAIR MAID OF ASTOLAT\n\n\nSO after the quest of the Sanc Greal was fulfilled, and all knights\nthat were left on live were come again to the Table Round, then was\nthere great joy, and in especial King Arthur and Queen Guenever made\ngreat joy of the remnant that were come home.\n\nAnd then the queen let make a dinner in London unto the knights of the\nRound Table. All at that dinner she had Sir Gawaine and his brethren,\nthat is to say, Sir Agravaine, Sir Gaheris, Sir Gareth, and Sir\nMordred. 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 Mal Taile,\nSir Persant, Sir Ironside, Sir Brandiles, Sir Kay le Seneschal, Sir\nMador de la Porte, Sir Patrice, a knight of Ireland, [Sir] Aliduke, 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, and there was made a great feast of all manner of dainties. But\nSir Gawaine had a custom that he used daily at dinner and at supper,\nthat he loved well all manner of fruit, and in especial apples and\npears. And therefore whosoever dined or feasted Sir Gawaine would\ncommonly purvey for good fruit for him; and so did the queen for to\nplease Sir Gawaine, she let purvey for him of all manner of fruit, for\nSir Gawaine was a passing hot knight of nature. And this Pinel hated\nSir Gawaine because of his kinsman Sir Lamorak de Galis, and therefore\nfor pure envy and hate Sir Pinel enpoisoned certain apples, for to\nenpoison Sir Gawaine. And so this was well unto the end of the meat;\nand so it befell by misfortune a good knight named Patrice, cousin\nunto Sir Mador de la Porte, to take a poisoned apple. And when he had\neaten it he swelled so till he burst, and there Sir Patrice fell down\nsuddenly dead among them. Then every knight leaped from the board\nashamed and enraged for wrath, nigh out of their wits. For they wist\nnot what to say: considering Queen Guenever made the feast and dinner,\nthey all had suspicion unto her.\n\n\"My lady, the queen,\" said Gawaine, \"wit ye well, madam, that this\ndinner was made for me: for all folks that know my conditions\nunderstand that I love well fruit; and now I see well I had near been\nslain; therefore, madam, I dread lest ye will be shamed.\"\n\nThen the queen stood still, and was sore abashed, that she wist not\nwhat to say.\n\n\"This shall not so be ended,\" said Sir Mador de la Porte, \"for here\nhave I lost a full noble knight of my blood, and therefore upon this\nshame and despite I will be revenged to the uttermost.\"\n\nAnd thereupon Sir Mador appealed Queen Guenever of the death of\nhis cousin Sir Patrice.[18] Then stood they all still, that none of\nthem would speak a word against him, for they had a great suspection\n[_suspicion_] unto Queen Guenever, because she let make the dinner. And\nthe queen was so sore abashed that she could none otherwise do but wept\nso heartily that she fell in a swoon. With this noise and sudden cry\ncame unto them King Arthur, and marvelled greatly what it might be; and\nwhen he wist of their trouble, and the sudden death of that good knight\nSir Patrice, he was a passing heavy man.\n\n[Footnote 18: We have here the beginning of that series of quarrels\nwhich presently arrays Sir Gawaine and King Arthur (who with many\nprotests allows himself to be guided by Sir Gawaine) on one side,\nagainst Queen Guenever and Sir Launcelot (who has taken the queen's\npart) on the other, and which ends with the great battle in which\nArthur is slain and the Round Table broken up for ever.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd ever Sir Mador stood still before King Arthur, and ever he appealed\nQueen Guenever of treason; for the custom was such at that time that\nall manner of shameful death was called treason.\n\n\"Fair lords,\" said King Arthur, \"me repenteth sore of this trouble, but\nthe cause is so we may not have to do in this matter, for I must be\na rightful judge, and that repenteth me that I may not do battle for\nmy wife, for, as I deem, this deed came never of her; and therefore I\nsuppose we shall not all be destitute, but that some good knight shall\nput his body in jeopardy for my queen rather than she should be brent\n[_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 the day of battle, and she shall purvey her of some good\nknight which shall answer you, or else it were to me great shame, and\nunto all my court.\"\n\n\"My gracious lord,\" said Sir Mador, \"ye must hold me excused, for\nthough ye be our king, in that degree ye are but a knight as we are,\nand ye are sworn unto knighthood as well as we, and therefore I pray\nyou that ye will not be displeased; for there is none of the twenty\nknights that were bidden for to come unto this dinner, but all they\nhave great suspection unto the queen. What say you all, my lords?\" said\nSir Mador.\n\nThen they answered by and by, and said they could not excuse the queen,\nfor why she made the dinner, and either it must come by her or by her\nservants.\n\n\"Alas,\" said the queen, \"I made this dinner for a good intent, and\nnever for none evil; so Almighty God help me in my right.\"\n\n\"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.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the king, \"I give the day this day fifteen days, that thou\nbe ready armed on horseback in the meadow beside Westminster. And if it\nso fall that there be any knight to encounter with you, there mayest\nthou do the best, and God speed the right. And if it so fall that there\nbe no knight at that day, then must my queen be burnt, and there shall\nshe be ready to have her judgment.\"\n\n\"I am answered,\" said Sir Mador; and every knight went where it liked\nhim.\n\nSo when the king and queen were together, the king asked the queen how\nthis case befell?\n\nThe queen answered, \"So God me help, I wot not how, nor in what manner.\"\n\n\"Where is Sir Launcelot?\" said King Arthur, \"and he were here, he would\nnot grudge to do battle for you.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the queen, \"I wot not where he is, but his brother and his\nkinsmen deem that he is not within this realm.\"\n\n[For, within a little while before, it happened on a day that Queen\nGuenever was displeased with Sir Launcelot and forbade him the court,\nand that Sir Launcelot full sadly left the court and departed into his\ncountry and dwelt with the hermit Sir Brasias.]\n\n\"That me repenteth,\" said King Arthur, \"for and he were here he would\nsoon stint this strife. Then I will counsel you,\" said the king, \"that\nye go unto Sir Bors, and pray him to do that battle for you for Sir\nLauncelot's sake, and upon my life he will not refuse you; for right\nwell I perceive that none of all these twenty knights that were with\nyou in fellowship at your dinner will do battle for you: [which would\nbe] great slander for you in this court.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said the queen, \"I cannot do withal; but now I miss Sir\nLauncelot, for, and he were here, he would put me full soon unto my\nheart's ease.\"\n\n\"Now go your way,\" said the king unto the queen, \"and require Sir Bors\nto do battle for you for Sir Launcelot's sake.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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 succor.\n\n\"Madam,\" said he, \"what would ye that I do? for I may not with my\nworship have to do in this matter, because I was at that same dinner,\nfor dread that any of those knights would have me in suspection; also,\nmadam,\" said Sir Bors, \"now miss ye Sir Launcelot, for he would not\nhave failed you, neither in right nor yet in wrong, as ye have well\nproved when ye have been in danger, and now have ye driven him out\nof this country, by whom ye and we all were daily worshipped.[19]\nTherefore, madam, I greatly marvel me how ye dare for shame require me\nto do any thing for you, in so much as ye have chased him out of your\ncountry by whom we were borne up and honored.\"\n\n[Footnote 19: \"Worshipped\" _made of worth, honored_.]\n\n\"Alas! fair knight,\" said the queen, \"I put me wholly in your grace,\nand all that is done amiss I will amend as ye will counsel me.\"\n\nAnd therewith she kneeled down upon both her knees, and besought Sir\nBors to have mercy upon her, \"or I shall have a shameful death, and\nthereto I never offended.\"\n\nRight so came King Arthur, and found the queen kneeling afore Sir\nBors. Then Sir Bors pulled her up, and said, \"Madam, ye do to me great\ndishonor.\"\n\n\"Ah, gentle knight,\" said the king, \"have mercy upon my queen,\ncourteous knight, for I am now in certain she is untruly defamed. And\ntherefore, courteous knight,\" said the king, \"promise her to do battle\nfor her: I require you, for the love of Sir Launcelot.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said Sir Bors, \"ye require me the greatest thing that any\nman may require me; and wit ye well, if I grant to do battle for\nthe queen I shall wrath many of my fellowship of the Table Round;\nbut as for that,\" said Bors, \"I will grant my lord, for my lord Sir\nLauncelot's sake, and for your sake, I will at that day be the queen's\nchampion, unless that there come by adventure a better knight than I am\nto do battle for her.\"\n\n\"Will ye promise me this,\" said the king, \"by your faith?\"\n\n\"Yea sir,\" said Sir Bors, \"of that will I not fail you, nor her both,\nbut if that there come a better knight than I am, and then shall he\nhave the battle.\"\n\nThen was the king and the queen passing glad, and so departed, and\nthanked him heartily. So then Sir Bors departed secretly upon a day,\nand rode unto Sir Launcelot, there as he was with the hermit Sir\nBrasias, and told him of all their adventure.\n\n\"Ah,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"this is come happily as I would have it,\nand therefore I pray you make you ready to do battle, but look that ye\ntarry till ye see me come, as long as ye may. For I am sure Mador is\nan hot knight, when he is enchafed, for the more ye suffer him, the\nhastier will he be to battle.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Bors, \"let me deal with him; doubt ye not ye shall have\nall your will.\"\n\nThen departed Sir Bors from him, and came to the court again. Then\nwas it noised in all the court that Sir Bors should do battle for the\nqueen: wherefore many knights were displeased with him, that he would\ntake upon him to do battle in the queen's quarrel, for there were but\nfew knights in the court but they deemed the queen was in the wrong,\nand that 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.\"\n\nMany answered him again: \"As for our most noble King Arthur, we love\nhim and honor him as well as ye do; but as for Queen Guenever, we love\nher not, for because she is a destroyer of good knights.\"\n\n\"Fair lords,\" said Sir Bors, \"me seemeth ye say not as ye should say,\nfor never yet in all my days knew I nor heard say that ever she was\na destroyer of any good knight; but at all times, as far as I ever\ncould know, she was always a maintainer of good knights, and alway she\nhath been large and free of her goods to all good knights, and the\nmost bounteous lady of her gifts and her good grace that ever I saw\nor heard speak of; and therefore it were great shame,\" said Sir Bors,\n\"unto us all to our most noble king's wife, if we suffer her to be\nshamefully slain. And wit ye well,\" said Sir Bors, \"I will not suffer\nit, for I dare say so much, the queen is not guilty of Sir Patrice's\ndeath, for she ought [_owed_] him never none evil will, nor none of the\ntwenty-four knights that were at that dinner; for I dare well say that\nit was for good love she had us to dinner, and not for no mal engine\n[_bad design_], and that I doubt not shall be proved hereafter, for,\nhowsoever the game goeth, there was treason among some of us.\"\n\nThen some said to Sir Bors, \"We may well believe your words.\"\n\nAnd so some of them were well pleased, and some were not pleased.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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.\n\n\"Truly, madam,\" said he, \"I am disposed in likewise as I promised you,\n[and I will not] fail you, unless by adventure there come a better\nknight than I to do battle for you; then, madam, I am discharged of my\npromise.\"\n\nThen the queen went unto the king, and told him the answer of Sir Bors.\n\n\"Have ye no doubt,\" said the king, \"of Sir Bors, for I call him now one\nof the best knights of the world, and the most profitable man.\"\n\nAnd thus it passed on until the morn. And the king and the queen, and\nall manner of knights that were there at that time, drew them unto the\nmeadow beside Westminster, where the battle should be. And so when the\nking was come with the queen, and many knights of the Round Table, then\nthe queen was put there in the constable's ward, and a great fire made\nabout an iron stake, that, and Sir Mador de la Porte had the better,\nshe should be burnt. Such custom was used in those days, that neither\nfor favor, neither for love, nor affinity, there should be none other\nbut righteous judgment, as well upon a king as upon a knight, and as\nwell upon a queen as upon another poor lady. So in this meanwhile\ncame in Sir Mador de la Porte, and took his oath before the king, That\nthe queen did this treason unto his cousin Sir Patrice, and unto his\noath he would prove it with his body, hand for hand, who that would\nsay the contrary. Right so came in Sir Bors, and said, that as for\nQueen Guenever, she is in the right, \"and that will I make good with my\nhands, that she is not culpable of this treason that is put upon her.\"\n\n\"Then make thee ready,\" said Sir Mador, \"and we shall prove whether\nthou be in the right or I.\"\n\n\"Sir Mador,\" said Sir Bors, \"wit thou well I know you for a good\nknight: but I trust unto almighty God I shall be able to withstand\nyour malice: but thus much have I promised my lord King Arthur, and\nmy lady the queen, that I shall do battle for her in this case to\nthe uttermost, unless that there come a better knight than I am, and\ndischarge me.\"\n\n\"Is that all?\" said Sir Mador; \"either come thou off, and do battle\nwith me, or else say nay.\"\n\n\"Take your horse,\" said Sir Bors, \"and, as I suppose, ye shall not\ntarry long but that ye shall be answered.\"\n\nThen either departed to their tents, and made them ready to mount upon\nhorseback as they thought best. And anon Sir Mador de la Porte came\ninto the field with his shield on his shoulder, and a spear in his\nhand; and so rode about the place, crying unto King Arthur, \"Bid your\nchampion come forth, and he dare.\"\n\nThen was Sir Bors ashamed, and took his horse, and came to the lists'\nend. And then was he ware where as came out of a wood, there fast by,\na knight all armed at all points upon a white horse, with a strange\nshield, and of strange arms; and he came riding all that he might run;\nand so he came to Sir Bors, and said, \"Fair knight, I pray you be not\ndispleased, for here must a better knight than ye are have this battle;\ntherefore I pray you to withdraw you, for I would ye knew I have had\nthis day a right great journey, and this battle ought to be mine, and\nso I promised you when I spake with you last, and with all my heart I\nthank you of your good will.\"\n\nThen 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.\n\n\"What knight is he?\" said the king.\n\n\"I wot not,\" said Sir Bors, \"but such covenant he made with me to be\nhere this day. Now my lord,\" said Sir Bors, \"here am I discharged.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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,\n\"this is dishonor 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 thus\nto be rebuked and shamed amongst you.\"\n\nThen they all marvelled what knight that might be that so took the\nbattle upon him, for there was not one that knew him, but if it were\nSir Bors. Then said Sir Mador de la Porte unto the king, \"Now let me\nwit with whom I shall have ado withal.\"\n\nAnd then they rode to the lists' end, and there they couched their\nspears, and ran together with all their mights. And Sir Mador's spear\nbrake all to pieces, but the other's spear held, and bare Sir Mador's\nhorse and all backward to the earth a great fall. But mightily and\nsuddenly he avoided his horse, and put his shield afore him, and then\ndrew his sword, and bade the other knight alight and do battle with\nhim on foot. Then that knight descended from his horse lightly like\na valiant man, and put his shield afore him, and drew his sword, and\nso they came eagerly unto battle, and either gave other many great\nstrokes, tracing and traversing, raising 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 grovelling upon the earth, and the knight stepped 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.\n\n[Illustration: _Sir Mador's spear brake all to pieces, but the other's\nspear held_]\n\n\"I will not grant thee thy life,\" said that knight, \"only that thou\nfreely release the queen forever, and that no mention be made upon Sir\nPatrice's tomb that ever Queen Guenever consented to that treason.\"\n\n\"All this shall be done,\" said Sir Mador, \"I clearly discharge my\nquarrel forever.\"\n\nThen the knights parters of the lists [_knights who parted the\ncombatants_] took up Sir Mador and led him to his tent, and the other\nknight went straight to the stair foot whereas King Arthur sat, and by\nthat time was the queen come unto the king, and either kissed other\nlovingly. And when the king saw that knight, he stooped down unto him\nand thanked him, and in likewise did the queen. And then the king\nprayed him to put off his helm and to rest him, and to take a sop of\nwine; and then he put off his helm to drink, and then every knight knew\nthat he was the noble knight Sir Launcelot. As soon as the king wist\nthat, he took the queen by the hand, and went unto Sir Launcelot, and\nsaid, \"Gramercy of your great travel that ye have had this day for me\nand for my queen.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"wit ye well that I ought of right\never to be in your quarrel, and in my lady the queen's quarrel, to do\nbattle, for ye are the man that gave me the high order of knighthood,\nand that day my lady your queen did me great worship, or else I had\nbeen shamed. For that same day ye made me knight, through my hastiness\nI lost my sword, and my lady your queen found it, and lapped it in her\ntrain, and gave me my sword when I had need thereof, or else had I\nbeen shamed among all knights. And therefore, my lord King Arthur, I\npromised her at that day ever to be her knight in right or in wrong.\"\n\n\"Gramercy,\" said King Arthur, \"for this journey; and wit you well,\"\nsaid King Arthur, \"I shall acquit you of [_repay you for_] your\ngoodness.\"\n\nAnd ever the queen beheld Sir Launcelot, and wept so tenderly that she\nsank almost down upon the ground for sorrow, that he had done to her so\ngreat goodness, whereas she had showed him great unkindness. Then the\nknights of his blood drew unto him, and there either of them made great\njoy of other; and so came all the knights of the Round Table that were\nthere at that time, and he welcomed them. And then Sir Mador was had to\nleechcraft [_surgery_]; and Sir Launcelot was healed of his wound. And\nthen was there made great joy and mirth in the court.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd so it befell that the damsel of the lake, which was called Nimue,\nthe which wedded the good knight Sir Pelleas, and so she came to the\ncourt, for 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 [endangered] for the death of Sir Patrice, 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 Sir Pinel fled into his country. Then was it openly known\nthat Sir Pinel empoisoned the apples of the feast, to the intent to\nhave destroyed Sir Gawaine, because Sir Gawaine and his brethren\ndestroyed Sir Lamorak de Galis, whom Sir Pinel was cousin unto.\n\nAnd then Sir Mador sued daily and long to have the queen's good grace;\nand so, by the means of Sir Launcelot, he caused him to stand in the\nqueen's grace, and all was forgiven. Thus it passed forth until our\nLady Day the Assumption; within fifteen days of that feast King [Arthur\nlet cry a great tournament] at Camelot, that is, Winchester, [where]\nhe and the King of Scotland would joust against all that would come\nagainst them. And when this cry was made, thither came many knights. So\nthere came thither the King of Northgalis, and King Anguish of Ireland,\nand the king with the hundred knights, and Sir Galahalt the haut\nprince, and the King of Northumberland, and many other noble dukes and\nearls of divers countries. So King Arthur made him ready to depart to\nthese jousts, and would have had the queen with him; but at that time\nshe would not, she said, for she was sick and might not ride at that\ntime.\n\n\"That me repenteth,\" said the king, \"for this seven year ye saw not\nsuch a fellowship together, except at Whitsuntide when Galahad departed\nfrom the court.\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said the queen to the king, \"ye must hold me excused: I may\nnot be there, and that me repenteth.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd so upon the morn early Sir Launcelot heard mass, and brake his\nfast, and so took his leave of the queen, and departed. And then he\nrode so much until he came to Astolat, that is Gilford; and there it\nhapped him in the eventide he came to an old baron's place, that hight\nSir Bernard of Astolat. And as Sir Launcelot entered into his lodging,\nKing Arthur espied him as he did walk in a garden beside the castle,\nhow he took his lodging, and knew him full well.\n\n\"It is well,\" said King Arthur unto the knights that were with him\nin that garden beside the castle, \"I have now espied one knight that\nwill play his play at the jousts to the which we be gone towards, I\nundertake he will do marvels.\"\n\n\"Who is that, we pray you tell us,\" said many knights that were there\nat that time.\n\n\"Ye shall not wit for me,\" said the king, \"at this time.\"\n\nAnd so the king smiled, and went to his lodging. So when Sir Launcelot\nwas in his lodging, and unarmed him in his chamber, the old baron came\nunto him, making his reverence, and welcomed him in the best manner;\nbut the old knight knew not Sir Launcelot.\n\n\"Fair sir,\" said Sir Launcelot to his host, \"I would pray you to lend\nme a shield that were not openly known, for mine is well known.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said his host, \"ye shall have your desire, for me seemeth ye\nbe one of the likeliest knights of the world, and therefore I shall\nshow you friendship. Sir, wit ye well I have two sons which were but\nlate made knights, and the eldest hight Sir Tirre, and he was hurt the\nsame day that he was made knight, that he may not ride, and his shield\nye shall have, for that is not known, I dare say, but here, and in no\nplace else. And my youngest son hight Sir Lavaine, and if it please you\nhe shall ride with you unto those jousts; and he is of his age strong\nand mighty, for much my heart giveth unto you that ye should be a noble\nknight, therefore I beseech you tell me your name,\" said Sir Bernard.\n\n\"As for that,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"ye must hold me excused as at this\ntime, and if God give me grace to speed well at the jousts, I shall\ncome again and tell you; but I pray you heartily,\" said Sir Launcelot,\n\"in any wise let me have your son Sir Lavaine with me, and that I may\nhave his brother's shield.\"\n\n\"Also this shall be done,\" said Sir Bernard.\n\nThis old baron had a daughter that time that was called the fair maid\nof Astolat, and ever she beheld Sir Launcelot wonderfully; and she cast\nsuch a love unto Sir Launcelot that she could not withdraw her love,\nwherefore she died; and her name was Elaine la Blanche. So thus as she\ncame to and fro, she besought Sir Launcelot to wear upon him at the\njousts a token of hers.\n\n\"Fair damsel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"and if I grant you that, ye may say\nI do more for your love than ever I did for lady or damsel.\"\n\nThen he remembered him that he would ride unto the jousts disguised,\nand for because he had never before that time borne no manner of token\nof no damsel, then he bethought him that he would bear one of hers,\nthat none of his blood thereby might know him. And then he said, \"Fair\ndamsel, I will grant you to wear a token of yours upon my helmet, and\ntherefore what it is show me.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"it is a red sleeve of mine, of scarlet well\nembroidered with great pearls.\"\n\nAnd so she brought it him. So Sir Launcelot received it, and said,\n\"Never or this time did I so much for no damsel.\"\n\nAnd then Sir Launcelot betook [_gave_] the fair damsel his shield in\nkeeping, and prayed her to keep it until he came again. And so that\nnight he had merry rest and great cheer; for ever the fair damsel\nElaine was about Sir Launcelot all the while that she might be suffered.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSo upon a day in the morning, King Arthur and all his knights departed,\nfor the king had tarried there three days to abide his knights. And so\nwhen the king was ridden, Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine made them ready\nfor to ride, and either of them had white shields, and the red sleeve\nSir Launcelot let carry with him. And so they took their leave of Sir\nBernard the old baron, and of his daughter the fair maid of Astolat.\nAnd then they rode so long till that they came to Camelot, which now\nis called Winchester. And there was great press of knights, dukes,\nearls, and barons, and many noble knights; but there was Sir Launcelot\nprivily lodged 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 the Assumption, as the great feast should be.\nSo then trumpets began to blow unto the field, and King Arthur was\nset on high upon a scaffold to behold who did best. But King Arthur\nwould not suffer Sir Gawaine to go from him, for never had Sir Gawaine\nthe better if Sir Launcelot were in the field. And many times was Sir\nGawaine rebuked when Sir Launcelot came to any jousts disguised. Then\nsome of the kings, as King Anguish of Ireland and the King of Scotland,\nwere at that time turned upon King Arthur's side. And then upon the\nother side was the King of Northgalis, and the king with the hundred\nknights, and the King of Northumberland, and Sir Galahalt the haut\nprince. But these three kings and this one duke were passing weak to\nhold against King Arthur's 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\nof Winchester privily, and rode until [_unto_] a little leaved wood,\nbehind the party that held against King Arthur's party, and there they\nheld them still till the parties smote together. And then came in the\nKing of Scots and the King of Ireland on Arthur's party; and against\nthem came the King of Northumberland; and the king with the hundred\nknights smote down the King of Northumberland, and also the king with\nthe hundred knights smote down King Anguish of Ireland. Then Sir\nPalamides, that was on Arthur's party, encountered with Sir Galahalt,\nand either of them smote down other, and either party holp their lords\non horseback again. So there began a strong assail upon both parties.\nAnd then there came in Sir Brandiles, Sir Sagramor le Desirous, Sir\nDodinas le Savage, Sir Kay le Seneschal, Sir Griflet le Fise de Dieu,\nSir Mordred, Sir Meliot de Logris, Sir Ozanna le Cure Hardy, Sir\nSafere, Sir Epinegris, and Sir Galleron of Galway. All these fifteen\nknights were knights of the Table Round. So these with more others came\nin together, and beat back the King of Northumberland, and the King\nof North Wales. When Sir Launcelot saw this, as he hoved in a little\nleaved wood, then he said unto Sir Lavaine, \"See yonder is a company\nof good knights, and they hold them together as boars that were chafed\nwith dogs.\"\n\n\"That is truth,\" said Sir Lavaine.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Now,\" 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.\"\n\n\"Sir, spare not,\" said Sir Lavaine, \"for I shall do what I may.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot and Sir Lavaine came in at the thickest of the\npress, and there Sir Launcelot smote down Sir Brandiles, Sir Sagramor,\nSir Dodinas, Sir Kay, Sir Griflet, and all this he did with one spear.\nAnd Sir Lavaine smote down Sir Lucan le Butler, and Sir Bedivere. And\nthen Sir Launcelot gat another spear, and there he smote down Sir\nAgravaine, Sir Gaheris, and Sir Mordred, and Sir Meliot de Logris. And\nSir Lavaine smote down Ozanna le Cure Hardy: and then Sir Launcelot\ndrew his sword, and there he smote on the right hand and on the left\nhand, and by great force he unhorsed Sir Safere, Sir Epinegris, and Sir\nGalleron. And then the knights of the Table Round withdrew them aback,\nafter they had gotten their horses as well as they might.\n\n\"Oh, mercy,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"what knight is yonder, that doth so\nmarvellous deeds of arms in that field?\"\n\n\"I wot what he is,\" said King Arthur, \"but as at this time I will not\nname him.\"\n\n\"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 be not he, for that he beareth the red sleeve upon his head, for\nI wist him never bear token, at no jousts, of lady nor gentlewoman.\"\n\n\"Let him be,\" said King Arthur, \"he will be better known and do more or\never he depart.\"\n\nThen the party that were against King Arthur were well comforted, and\nthen they held them together, that beforehand were sore rebuked. Then\nSir Bors, Sir Ector de Maris, and Sir Lionel, called unto them the\nknights of their blood, as Sir Blamor de Ganis, Sir Bleoberis, Sir\nAliduke, Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Bellangere le Beuse, so these\nnine knights of Sir Launcelot's kin thrust in mightily, for they were\nall noble knights. And they, of great hate and despite that they had\nunto him, thought to rebuke that noble knight Sir Launcelot, and Sir\nLavaine, for they knew them not. And so they came hurtling together,\nand smote down many knights of Northgalis and of Northumberland. And\nwhen Sir Launcelot saw them fare so, he gat a spear in his hand, and\nthere encountered with them all at once; Sir Bors, Sir Ector de Maris,\nand Sir Lionel smote him all at once with their spears.\n\nAnd with force of themselves they smote Sir Launcelot's horse unto the\nground; and by misfortune Sir Bors smote Sir Launcelot through the\nshield into the side, and the spear brake, and the head abode still\nin the side. When Sir Lavaine saw his master lie upon the ground, he\nran to the King of Scotland and smote him to the ground, and by great\nforce he took his horse and brought him to Sir Launcelot, and mauger\n[_in spite of_] them all he made him to mount upon that horse. And\nthen Sir Launcelot gat him a great spear in his hand, and there he\nsmote Sir Bors both horse and man to the ground; and in the same wise\nhe served Sir Ector and Sir Lionel; and Sir Lavaine smote down Sir\nBlamor de Ganis. And then Sir Launcelot began to draw his sword, for he\nfelt himself so sore hurt, that he wend there to have had his death;\nand then he smote Sir Bleoberis such a buffet upon the helm that he\nfell down to the ground 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 Sir Alisander Lorphelin. And by that time Sir Bors\nwas horsed; and then he came with Sir Ector and Sir Lionel, and they\nthree smote with their swords upon Sir Launcelot's helmet; and when\nhe felt their buffets, and his wound that was so grievous, then he\nthought to do what he might whiles he might endure; and then he gave\nSir Bors such a buffet that he made him to bow his head passing low;\nand therewithal he razed off his helm, and might have slain him, and so\npulled him down. And in the same manner of wise he served Sir Ector and\nSir Lionel, for he might have slain them. But when he saw their visages\nhis heart might not serve him thereto, but left them there lying. And\nthen after he hurled in among the thickest press of them all, and did\nthere marvellous deeds of arms that ever any man saw or heard speak\nof. And alway the good knight Sir Lavaine was with him; and there Sir\nLauncelot with his sword smote and pulled down moe [_more_] than thirty\nknights, and the most part were of the Round Table. And Sir Lavaine\ndid full well that day, for he smote down ten knights of the Round\nTable.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Ah mercy, Jesu,\" said Sir Gawaine unto King Arthur, \"I marvel what\nknight he is with the red sleeve.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said King Arthur, \"he will be known or he depart.\"\n\nAnd then the king let blow unto lodging, and the prize was given by\nheralds to the knight with the white shield and that bare the red\nsleeve. Then came the king with the hundred knights, the King of\nNorthgalis, and the King of Northumberland, and Sir Galahalt the haut\nprince, and said unto Sir Launcelot, \"Fair knight, God thee bless, for\nmuch have ye done this day for us, therefore we pray you that ye will\ncome with us that ye may receive the honor and the prize, as ye have\nworshipfully deserved it.\"\n\n\"My fair lords,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"wit ye well, if I have deserved\nthanks, I have sore bought it, for I am like never to escape with my\nlife; therefore I pray you that ye will suffer me to depart where me\nliketh, for I am sore hurt; I had liever [_rather_] to rest me than\nto be lord of all the world.\" And therewith he groaned piteously, and\nrode a great gallop away from them until he came to a wood side, and\nwhen he saw that he was from the field nigh a mile, that he was sure\nhe might not be seen, then said he with a high voice, \"O gentle knight\nSir Lavaine, help me that this truncheon were out of my side, for it\nsticketh so sore that it nigh slayeth me.\"\n\n\"O mine own lord,\" said Sir Lavaine, \"I would fain do that might\nplease you, but I dread me sore, and I draw out the truncheon, that ye\nshall be in peril of death.\"\n\n\"I charge you,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"as ye love me draw it out.\"\n\nAnd therewithal he descended from his horse, and right so did Sir\nLavaine, and forthwith Sir Lavaine drew the truncheon out of his side.\nAnd he gave a great shriek, and a marvellous grisly groan, and his\nblood brast [_burst_] out nigh a pint at once, that at last he sank\ndown, and so swooned pale and deadly.\n\n\"Alas,\" said Sir Lavaine, \"what shall I do?\"\n\nAnd then he turned Sir Launcelot into the wind, but so he lay there\nnigh half an hour as he had been dead. And so at the last Sir Launcelot\ncast up his eyes, and said, \"O Lavaine, help me that I were on my\nhorse, for here is fast by within this two mile a gentle hermit, that\nsometime was a full noble knight and a great lord of possessions; and\nfor great goodness he hath taken him to wilful poverty, and forsaken\nmany lands, and his name is Sir Baldwin of Brittany, and he is a\nfull noble surgeon, and a good leech. Now let see, help me up that I\nwere there. For ever my heart giveth me that I shall never die of my\ncousin-german's hands.\"\n\nAnd then with great pain Sir Lavaine holp him upon his horse; and then\nthey rode a great gallop together, and ever Sir Launcelot bled that it\nran down to the earth. And so by fortune they came to that hermitage,\nwhich was under a wood, and a great cliff on the other side, and a fair\nwater running under it. And then Sir Lavaine beat on the gate with the\nbutt of his spear, and cried fast, \"Let in, for Jesu's sake.\"\n\nAnd there came a fair child to them, and asked them what they would?\n\n\"Fair son,\" said Sir Lavaine, \"go and pray thy lord the hermit for\nGod's sake to let in here a knight that is full sore wounded, and this\nday tell thy lord that I saw him do more deeds of arms than ever I\nheard say that any man did.\"\n\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's sake of succor.\n\n\"What knight is he?\" said the hermit, \"is he of the house of King\nArthur or not?\"\n\n\"I wot not,\" said Sir Lavaine, \"what is he, nor what is his name, but\nwell I wot I saw him do marvellously this day, as of deeds of arms.\"\n\n\"On whose party was he?\" said the hermit.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Lavaine, \"he was this day against King Arthur, and\nthere he won the prize of all the knights of the Round Table.\"\n\n\"I have seen the day,\" said the hermit, \"I would have loved him the\nworse because he was against my lord King Arthur, for sometime I was\none of the fellowship of the Round Table, but I thank God now I am\notherwise disposed. But where is he? let me see him.\"\n\nThen Sir Lavaine brought the hermit to him.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd when the hermit beheld him as he sat leaning upon his saddle-bow,\never bleeding piteously, [then] alway the knight hermit thought that\nhe should know him, but he could not bring him to knowledge, because he\nwas so pale for bleeding.\n\n\"What knight are ye,\" said the hermit, \"and where were ye born??\n\n\"Fair lord,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I am a stranger and a knight\nadventurous, that laboreth throughout many realms for to win worship.\"\n\nThen the hermit advised him better [_looked more closely_], and saw by\na wound on the cheek that he was Sir Launcelot.\n\n\"Alas!\" said the hermit, \"mine own lord, why hide ye your name from me?\nforsooth I ought to know you of right, for ye are the most noble knight\nof the world, for well I know you for Sir Launcelot.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said he, \"sith ye know me, help me, and [_if_] ye may, for\nChrist's sake, for I would be out of this pain at once, either to death\nor to life.\"\n\n\"Have ye no doubt,\" said the hermit, \"ye shall live and fare right\nwell.\"\n\nAnd so the hermit called to him two of his servants; and so he and his\nservants bare him into the hermitage, and lightly unarmed him, and laid\nhim in his bed. And then anon the hermit stanched the blood; and then\nhe made him to drink good wine; so by that Sir Launcelot was right well\nrefreshed, and came to himself again. For in those days it was not the\nguise of hermits as it now is in these days, for there were no hermits\nin those days but that they had been men of worship and of prowess, and\nthose hermits held great households, and refreshed people that were in\ndistress.\n\nNow turn we unto King Arthur, and leave we Sir Launcelot in the\nhermitage.\n\nSo when the kings were come together on both parties, and the great\nfeast should be holden, King Arthur asked the King of Northgalis and\ntheir fellowship where was that knight that bare the red sleeve: \"Bring\nhim before me, that he may have his laud and honor and the prize, as it\nis right.\"\n\nThen spake Sir Galahalt the haut prince and the king with the hundred\nknights: \"We suppose that knight is mischieved, and that he is never\nlike to see you, nor none of us all, and that is the greatest pity that\never we wist of any knight.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said King Arthur, \"how may this be? is he so hurt? What is his\nname?\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said they all, \"we know not his name, nor from whence he came,\nnor whither he would.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said the king, \"these be to me the worst tidings that came to\nme this seven year: for I would not for all the lands I hold, to know\nand wit it were so that that noble knight were slain.\"\n\n\"Know ye him?\" said they all.\n\n\"As for that,\" said King Arthur, \"whether I know him or know him not,\nye shall not know for me what man he is, but Almighty Jesu send me good\ntidings of him.\"\n\nAnd so said they all.\n\n\"By my head,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"if it be so, that the good knight be\nso sore hurt, it is great damage and pity to all this land, for he is\none of the noblest knights that ever I saw in a field handle a spear\nor a sword; and if he may be found, I shall find him, for I am sure\nthat he is not far from this town.\"\n\n\"Bear you well,\" said King Arthur, \"that ye may find him, without that\nhe be in such a plight that he may not bestir himself.\"\n\n\"Jesu defend,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"but I shall know what he is and if I\nmay find him.\"\n\nRight so Sir Gawaine took a squire with him, and rode upon two hackneys\nall about Camelot within six or seven mile; but as he went so he came\nagain, and could hear no word of him. Then within two days King Arthur\nand all the fellowship returned to London again; and so as they rode by\nthe way, it happened Sir Gawaine at Astolat to lodge with Sir Bernard,\nwhereas Sir Launcelot was lodged. And so as Sir Gawaine was in his\nchamber for to take his rest, Sir Bernard the old baron came to him,\nand also his fair daughter Elaine, for to cheer him, and to ask him\nwhat tidings he knew, and who did best at the tournament at Winchester.\n\n\"So God help me,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"there were two knights which 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 joust in\nfield; for I dare make it good,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"that one knight\nwith the red sleeve smote down forty valiant knights of the Round\nTable, and his fellow did right well and right worshipfully.\"\n\n\"Now blessed be God,\" said the fair maid of Astolat, \"that the good\nknight sped so well, for he is the man in the world the which I first\nloved, and truly he shall be the last man that ever after I shall love.\"\n\n\"Now, fair maid,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"is that good knight your love?\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" said she; \"wit ye well he is my love.\"\n\n\"Then know ye his name?\" said Sir Gawaine.\n\n\"Nay, truly,\" said the maid, \"I know not his name, nor from whence he\ncame; but to say that I love him, I promise God and you that I love\nhim.\"\n\n\"How had ye knowledge of him first?\" said Sir Gawaine.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen she told him as ye have heard before, and how her father betook\n[_intrusted_] him her brother to do him service, and how her father\nlent him her brother Sir Tirre's shield, \"and here with me he left his\nown shield.\"\n\n\"For what cause did he so?\" said Sir Gawaine.\n\n\"For this cause,\" said the damsel, \"for his shield was too well known\namong many noble knights.\"\n\n\"Ah, fair damsel,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"please it you let me have a sight\nof that shield.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"it is in my chamber covered with a case, and if it\nwill please you to come in with me ye shall see it.\"\n\n\"Not so,\" said Sir Bernard unto his daughter; \"let send for it.\"\n\nSo when the shield was come, Sir Gawaine took off the case, and when he\nbeheld that shield he knew anon that it was Sir Launcelot's shield, and\nhis own arms.\n\n\"Ah Jesu, mercy!\" said Sir Gawaine, \"now is my heart more heavier than\never it was before.\"\n\n\"Why?\" said the damsel Elaine.\n\n\"For I have a great cause,\" said Sir Gawaine; \"is that knight that\noweth that shield your love?\"\n\n\"Yea, truly,\" said she, \"my love he is, God would that I were his love.\"\n\n\"So God me speed,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"fair damsel, ye love the most\nhonorable knight of the world, and the man of most worship.\"\n\n\"So me thought ever,\" said the damsel, \"for never or that time for no\nknight that ever I saw loved I never none erst.\"\n\n\"God grant,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"that either of you may rejoice other,\nbut that is in a great adventure; but truly,\" said Sir Gawaine unto the\ndamsel, \"ye may say ye have a fair grace, for why I have known that\nnoble knight this fourteen years, and never or that day I or none other\nknight, I dare make it good, saw nor heard that ever he bare token or\nsign of no lady, gentlewoman, nor maid, at no jousts nor tournament;\nand therefore, fair maid,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"ye are much beholden to\ngive him thanks; but I dread me,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"ye shall never\nsee him in this world, and that is great pity as ever was of earthly\nknight.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said she, \"how may this be? is he slain?\"\n\n\"I say not so,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"but wit ye well that he is\ngrievously wounded by all manner of signs, and by men's sight more\nlikelier to be dead than to be alive, and wit ye well he is the noble\nknight Sir Launcelot, for by his shield I know him.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said the fair maid Elaine, \"how may it be? what was his hurt?\"\n\n\"Truly,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"the man in the world that loveth him best\nhurt him so; and I dare say, and that knight that hurt him knew the\nvery certainty that he had hurt Sir Launcelot, it would be the most\nsorrow that ever came to his heart.\"\n\n\"Now, fair father,\" said then Elaine, \"I require you give me leave to\nride and to seek him, or else I wot well I shall go out of my mind, for\nI shall never stint [_stop_] till that I find him and my brother Sir\nLavaine.\"\n\n\"Do as it liketh you,\" said her father, \"for me right sore repenteth of\nthe hurt of that noble knight.\"\n\nSo the king and all came to London, and there Sir Gawaine openly\ndisclosed to all the court that it was Sir Launcelot that jousted best.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSo as the fair maid Elaine came to Winchester, she sought there all\nabout, and by fortune Sir Lavaine was ridden to play him and to enchafe\nhis horse. And anon, as fair Elaine saw him, she knew him, and then she\ncried aloud unto him; and when he heard her, anon he came unto her. And\nthen she asked her brother, \"How fareth my lord Sir Launcelot?\"\n\n\"Who told you, sister, that my lord's name was Sir Launcelot?\"\n\nThen she told him how Sir Gawaine by his shield knew him. So they rode\ntogether till they came unto the hermitage, and anon she alighted; so\nSir Lavaine brought her unto Sir Launcelot. And when she saw him lie so\nsick and pale in his bed, she might not speak, but suddenly she fell\nunto the ground in a swoon, and there she lay a great while. And when\nshe was relieved, she sighed and said, \"My lord Sir Launcelot, alas!\nwhy go ye in this plight?\" and then she swooned again. And then Sir\nLauncelot prayed Sir Lavaine to take her up and to bring her to him.\nAnd when she came to herself, Sir Launcelot kissed her, and said, \"Fair\nmaiden, why fare ye thus? Ye put me to pain; wherefore make ye no more\nsuch cheer for, and ye be come to comfort me, ye be right welcome, and\nof this little hurt that I have, I shall be right hastily whole, by the\ngrace of God. But I marvel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"who told you my name.\"\n\nThen the fair maiden told him all how Sir Gawaine was lodged with her\nfather. \"And there by your shield he discovered your name.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that me repenteth, that my name is known,\nfor I am sure it will turn unto anger.\"\n\nSo this maiden, Elaine, never went from Sir Launcelot, but watched him\nday and night and did such attendance to him that there was never woman\ndid more kindlier for man than she did. Then Sir Launcelot prayed Sir\nLavaine to make espies in Winchester for Sir Bors if he came there, and\ntold him by what token he should know him by a wound in his forehead.\n\n\"For well I am sure,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that Sir Bors will seek me,\nfor he is the good knight that hurt me.\"\n\nNow turn we unto Sir Bors de Ganis, that came to Winchester to seek\nafter his cousin Sir Launcelot. And so when he came to Winchester, anon\nthere were men that Sir Lavaine had made to lie in watch for such a\nman, and anon Sir Lavaine had warning thereof. And then Sir Lavaine\ncame to Winchester and found Sir Bors. And so they departed, and came\nunto the hermitage where Sir Launcelot was; and when Sir Bors saw Sir\nLauncelot lie in his bed all pale and discolored, anon Sir Bors lost\nhis countenance, and for kindness and for pity he might not speak, but\nwept full tenderly a great while. And then when he might speak, he said\nunto him thus, \"Alas! that ever such a caitiff knight as I am should\nhave power by unhappiness to hurt the most noblest knight of the world.\nWhere I so shamefully set upon you and overcharged you, and where ye\nmight have slain me, ye saved me, and so did not I: for I, and your\nblood, did to you our uttermost I marvel that my heart or my blood\nwould serve me, wherefore, my lord Sir Launcelot, I ask your mercy.\"\n\n\"Fair cousin,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I would with pride have overcome\nyou all, and there in my pride I was near slain, and that was in mine\nown default, for I might have given you warning of my being there.\nTherefore, fair cousin,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"let this speech overpass,\nand all shall be welcome that God sendeth; and let us leave off this\nmatter, and let us speak of some rejoicing; for this that is done may\nnot be undone, and let us find a remedy how soon that I may be whole.\"\n\nAnd so upon a day they took their horses and took Elaine la Blanche\nwith them; and when they came to Astolat, there they were well lodged\nand had great cheer of Sir Bernard the old baron and of Sir Tirre his\nson. And so on the morrow, when Sir Launcelot should depart, fair\nElaine brought her father with her and her two brethren Sir Tirre and\nSir Lavaine, and thus she said:\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"My lord Sir Launcelot, now I see that ye will depart; fair and\ncourteous knight, have mercy upon me, and suffer me not to die for your\nlove.\"\n\n\"What would ye that I did?\" said Sir Launcelot.\n\n\"I would have you unto my husband,\" said the maid Elaine.\n\n\"Fair damsel, I thank you,\" said Sir Launcelot; \"but certainly,\" said\nhe, \"I cast me never to be married.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said she, \"then must I needs die for your love.\"\n\n\"Ye shall not,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for wit ye well, fair damsel, that\nI might have been married and I had would, but I never applied me to be\nmarried; but because, fair damsel, that ye will love me as ye say ye\ndo, I will, for your good love and kindness, show you some goodness,\nand that is this: that wheresoever ye will set your heart upon some\ngood knight that will wed you, I shall give you together a thousand\npound yearly to you and to your heirs; thus much will I give you, fair\nmaid, for your kindness, and alway while I live to be your own knight.\"\n\n\"Of all this,\" said the damsel, \"I will none, for, but if you will wed\nme, wit you well, Sir Launcelot, my good days are done.\"\n\n\"Fair damsel,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"of [this] ye must pardon me.\"\n\nThen she shrieked shrilly, and fell down in a swoon; and then women\nbare her into her chamber, and there she made overmuch sorrow. And then\nSir Launcelot would depart; and there he asked Sir Lavaine what he\nwould do.\n\n\"What should I do,\" said Sir Lavaine, \"but follow you, but if ye drive\nme from you, or command me to go from you?\"\n\nThen came Sir Bernard to Sir Launcelot, and said to him, \"I cannot see\nbut that my daughter Elaine will die for your sake.\"\n\n\"I may not do withal,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for that me sore repenteth;\nfor I report me to yourself that my proffer is fair, and me repenteth,\"\nsaid Sir Launcelot, \"that she loveth me as she doth: I was never the\ncauser of it, for I report me to your son, I early nor late proffered\nher bounty nor fair behests; and I am right heavy of her distress, for\nshe is a full fair maiden, good, and gentle, and well taught.\"\n\n\"Father,\" said Sir Lavaine, \"she doth as I do, for since I first saw my\nlord Sir Launcelot I could never depart from him, nor nought I will and\nI may follow him.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot took his leave, and so they departed, and came\nunto Winchester. And when King Arthur wist that Sir Launcelot was\ncome, whole and sound, the king made great joy of him, and so did Sir\nGawaine, and all the knights of the Round Table except Sir Agravaine\nand Sir Mordred.\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\nher complaint unto Sir Launcelot. So when she had thus endured a ten\ndays, that she feebled so that she must needs pass out of this world,\nthen she shrived her clean, and received her Creator [_took the Holy\nCommunion_]. Then her ghostly father bade her leave such thoughts.\nThen she said, \"Why should I leave such thoughts? am I not an earthly\nwoman? and all the while the breath is in my body I may complain me,\nfor my belief is I do none offence though I love an earthly man, and I\ntake God to my record I never loved none but Sir Launcelot du Lake, nor\nnever shall. For our sweet Saviour Jesu Christ,\" said the maiden, \"I\ntake thee to record I was never greater offender against thy laws but\nthat I loved this noble knight Sir Launcelot out of all measure, and of\nmyself, good Lord, I might not withstand the fervent love wherefore I\nhave my death.\"\n\nAnd then she called her father Sir Bernard, and her brother Sir Tirre,\nand heartily she prayed her father that her brother might write a\nletter like as she would indite it. And so her father granted her. And\nwhen the letter was written word by word like as she had devised, then\nshe prayed her father that she might be watched until she were dead,\n\"And while my body is whole, let this letter be put into my right hand,\nand my hand bound fast with the letter until that I be cold, and let me\nbe put in a fair bed with all the richest clothes that I have about me,\nand so let my bed and all my rich clothes be laid with me in a chariot\nto the next place whereas the Thames is, and there let me be put in a\nbarge, and but one man with me, such as ye trust, to steer me thither,\nand that my barge be covered with black samite over and over. Thus,\nfather, I beseech you let me be done.\"\n\nSo her father granted her faithfully that all this thing should be done\nlike as she had devised. Then her father and her brother made great\ndole, for, when this was done, anon she died. And so when she was dead,\nthe corpse and the bed and all was led the next day unto the Thames,\nand there a man and the corpse and all were put in a barge on the\nThames, and so the man steered the barge to Westminster, and there he\nrowed a great while to and fro or any man espied it.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSo by fortune King Arthur and Queen Guenever were speaking together at\na window; and so as they looked into the Thames, they espied the black\nbarge, and had marvel what it might mean.\n\nThen the king called Sir Kay, and showed him it.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Kay, \"wit ye well that there is some new tidings.\"\n\n\"Go ye thither,\" said the king unto Sir Kay, \"and take with you Sir\nBrandiles and Sir Agravaine, and bring me ready word what is there.\"\n\nThen these three knights departed, and came to the barge, and went in;\nand there they found the fairest corpse lying in a rich bed that ever\nthey saw, and a poor man sitting in the end of the barge, and no word\nwould he speak. So these three knights returned unto the king again,\nand told him what they had found.\n\n\"That fair corpse will I see,\" said King Arthur.\n\nAnd then the king took the queen by the hand and went thither. Then the\nking made the barge to be holden fast; and then the king and the queen\nwent in, with certain knights with them, and there they saw a fair\ngentlewoman lying in a rich bed, covered unto her middle with many rich\nclothes, and all was of cloth of gold; and she lay as though she had\nsmiled. Then the queen espied the letter in the right hand, and told\nthe king thereof. Then the king took it in his hand, and said, \"Now I\nam sure this letter will tell what she was, and why she is come hither.\"\n\nThen the king and the queen went out of the barge; and the king\ncommanded certain men to wait upon the barge; and so when the king was\ncome within his chamber, he called many knights about him, and said\nthat he would wit openly what was written within that letter. Then the\nking brake it, and made a clerk to read it; and this was the intent of\nthe letter: \"Most noble knight, Sir Launcelot, now hath death made us\ntwo at debate for your love; I was your lover, that men called the fair\nmaid of Astolat; therefore unto all ladies I make my moan; yet pray for\nmy soul, and bury me at the least, and offer ye my mass-penny. This is\nmy last request. Pray for my soul, Sir Launcelot, as thou art a knight\npeerless.\"\n\nThis was all the substance in the letter. And when it was read, the\nking, the queen, and all the knights wept for pity of the doleful\ncomplaints. Then was Sir Launcelot sent for. And when he was come, King\nArthur made the letter to be read to him; and when Sir Launcelot heard\nit word by word, he said, \"My lord Arthur, wit ye well I am right heavy\nof the death of this fair damsel. God knoweth I was never causer of her\ndeath by my willing, and that will I report me to her own brother;\nhere he is, Sir Lavaine. I will not say nay, but that she was both fair\nand good, and much I was beholden unto her, but she loved me out of\nmeasure.\"\n\n\"Ye might have showed her,\" said the queen, \"some bounty and\ngentleness, that might have preserved her life.\"\n\n\"Madam,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"she would none other way be answered, but\nthat she would be my wife, and of [this] I would not grant her; but I\nproffered her, for her good love that she showed me, a thousand pound\nyearly to her and to her heirs, and to wed any manner knight that she\ncould find best to love in her heart. For, madam,\" said Sir Launcelot,\n\"I love not to be constrained to love; for love must arise of the\nheart, and not by no constraint.\"\n\n\"That is truth,\" said the king, and many knights: \"love is free in\nhimself, and never will be bounden; for where he is bounden he looseth\nhimself.\"\n\nThen said the king unto Sir Launcelot, \"It will be your worship that ye\noversee that she be buried worshipfully.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that shall be done as I can best devise.\"\n\nAnd so many knights went thither to behold the fair dead maid. And\non the morrow she was richly buried; and Sir Launcelot offered her\nmass-penny, and all the knights of the Round Table that were there at\nthat time offered with Sir Launcelot. And then when all was done, the\npoor man went again with the barge.\n\n\n\n\n                               BOOK VII\n\n                      OF THE DEATH OF ARTHUR[20]\n\n[Footnote 20: This event--the death of King Arthur--gave name to the\nwhole series of stories with some of the old editors: Caxton, for\nexample, the first printer of Sir Thomas Malory's book, issued it under\nthe title \"La Mort Darthur,\" that is, _la mort_ (French, _the death_)\n_d'Arthur_ (_of Arthur_).]\n\n\n[But ever in these days the enemies of Sir Launcelot and of Queen\nGuenever lay in wait to do them harm, in especial Sir Mordred and Sir\nAgravaine. So it befell that the queen was again appealed of treason\nand was condemned to the fire, while Sir Launcelot was away. But when\nSir Launcelot heard thereof, he came suddenly with his kindred and\nattacked them that guarded about the queen whereas she stood at the\nstake about to be burnt.]\n\nThen was there spurring and plucking up of horses and right so they\ncame to the fire, and who that stood against them there they were\nslain, there might none withstand Sir Launcelot. And in this rashing\nand hurling, as Sir Launcelot thrang [_rushed_] here and there, it\nmishappened him to slay Sir Gaheris and the noble knight Sir Gareth,\nfor they were unarmed and unaware; for Sir Launcelot smote Sir Gareth\nand Sir Gaheris upon the brain-pans, wherethrough they were both slain\nin the field; howbeit in very truth Sir Launcelot saw them not, and\nso were they found dead among the thickest of the press. Then when\nSir Launcelot had thus done, and had put them to flight all they\nthat would withstand him, then he rode straight unto Queen Guenever,\nand made a kirtle and a gown to be cast upon her, and then he made\nher to be set behind him, and prayed her to be of good cheer. Wit you\nwell that the queen was glad when she escaped from death; and then\nshe thanked God and Sir Launcelot. And so he rode his way with the\nqueen unto Joyous Gard, and there he kept her as a noble knight should\ndo, and many great lords and some kings sent Sir Launcelot many good\nknights; and many noble knights drew unto Sir Launcelot. When this was\nknown openly, that King Arthur and Sir Launcelot were at debate, many\nknights were glad of their debate, and many knights were sorry of their\ndebate.\n\n[Illustration: _He rode his way with the queen unto Joyous Gard_]\n\n[Then King Arthur made moan out of measure, for he knew that the Round\nTable was foredoomed and that great wars must come of these matters.]\n\n\"And now I dare say,\" said the king, \"that there was never Christian\nking that held such a fellowship together. Alas! that ever Sir\nLauncelot and I should be at debate. Ah! Agravaine, Agravaine,\" said\nthe king, \"Jesu forgive it thy soul! for thine evil will that thou and\nthy brother Sir Mordred had unto Sir Launcelot hath caused all this\nsorrow.\"\n\nAnd ever among these complaints King Arthur wept and swooned. Then\nthere came one unto Sir Gawaine, and told him how the queen was led\naway with Sir Launcelot, and nigh twenty-four knights slain.\n\n\"Truly,\" said the man, \"your two brethren, Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris,\nbe slain.\"\n\n\"Who slew [them]?\" said Sir Gawaine.\n\n\"Sir,\" said the man, \"Sir Launcelot slew them both.\"\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Gawaine, \"now is all my joy gone.\"\n\nAnd then he fell down in a swoon, and long he lay there as he had\nbeen dead; and then when he arose out of his swoon, he cried out so\nruefully, and said, \"Alas!\" And right so Sir Gawaine ran unto the king,\ncrying and weeping: \"Oh! King Arthur mine uncle, my good brother Sir\nGaheris is slain, and my brother Sir Gareth also, the which were two\nnoble knights.\"\n\n\"I know not how it was,\" said the king, \"but so it is said, Sir\nLauncelot slew them both in the thickest of the press, and knew them\nnot.\"\n\n[Then fell Sir Gawaine into bitter hatred against Sir Launcelot and\nnever stinted therein till the day of his death.]\n\n\"My most gracious lord and my uncle,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"wit you well\nthat now I shall make you a promise, the which I shall hold by my\nknighthood, that from this day I shall never fail Sir Launcelot, until\nthe one of us hath slain the other; and therefore I require you, my\nlord and my king, dress you unto the war, for wit you well I shall be\nrevenged upon Sir Launcelot. For I promise unto God,\" said Sir Gawaine,\n\"for the death of my brother Sir Gareth I shall seek Sir Launcelot\nthroughout seven kings' realms but I shall slay him, or else he shall\nslay me.\"\n\n\"Ye shall not need to seek him so far,\" said the king, \"for, as I hear\nsay, Sir Launcelot will abide me and you in the Joyous Gard, and much\npeople draweth unto him as I hear say.\"\n\nThen came King Arthur and Sir Gawaine with an huge host, and laid a\nsiege about Joyous Gard, both at the town and at the castle; and there\nthey made full strong war on both parties. But in no wise Sir Launcelot\nwould not ride out nor go out of the castle of a long time, neither he\nwould suffer none of his good knights to issue out, neither none of the\ntown nor of the castle, until fifteen weeks were past.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSo it befell on a day in harvest that Sir Launcelot looked over the\nwalls and spake on high to King Arthur and Sir Gawaine: \"My lords both,\nwit ye well it is in vain that ye labor at this siege, for here win ye\nno worship but dishonor.\"\n\n\"Come forth,\" said King Arthur unto Sir Launcelot, \"and thou darest,\nand I promise thee I shall meet thee in the midst of the field.\"\n\n\"God defend me,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that ever I should encounter with\nthe most noble king that made me knight.\"\n\n\"Fie upon thy fair language,\" said the king, \"for wit you well, and\ntrust it, I am thy mortal foe, and ever will to my death day, for thou\nhast slain my good knights and full noble men of my blood, that I shall\nnever recover again: also thou hast dishonored my queen, and holden her\nmany winters, and like a traitor taken her from me by force.\"\n\n\"My most noble lord and king,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"ye may say what ye\nwill, for ye wot well with yourself I will not strive, but there as ye\nsay I have slain your good knights, I wot well that I have done so, and\nthat me sore repenteth, but I was enforced to do battle with them, in\nsaving of my life, or else I must have suffered them to have slain me.\nAnd as for my lady Queen Guenever, ofttimes, my lord, ye have consented\nthat she should be burnt and destroyed in your heat, and then it\nfortuned me to do battle for her, and or I departed from her adversary\nthey confessed their untruth, and she full worshipfully excused. And\nat such times, my lord Arthur,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"ye loved me, and\nthanked me when I saved your queen from the fire, and then ye promised\nme for ever to be my good lord, and now me thinketh ye reward me full\nill. For sithence I have done battles for your queen in other quarrels\nthan in mine own, me seemeth now I had more right to do battle for her\nin a right quarrel. And therefore my good and gracious lord,\" said Sir\nLauncelot, \"take your queen unto your good grace, for she is both fair,\ntrue, and good.\"\n\n\"Fie on thee, false recreant knight,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"I let thee to\nwit that my lord mine uncle King Arthur shall have his queen and thee\nmaugre [_in spite of_] thy visage, and slay you both whereas it shall\nplease him.\"\n\n\"It may well be,\" said Sir Launcelot; \"but wit ye well, my lord Sir\nGawaine, and me list to come out of this castle, ye should win me and\nthe queen more harder than ever ye won a strong battle.\"\n\n\"Fie upon thy proud words,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"as for my lady the\nqueen, I will never say of her shame. Ah! thou false recreant knight,\"\nsaid Sir Gawaine, \"what cause hadst thou to slay my good brother Sir\nGareth, that loved thee more than all thy kin? Alas! thou madest him\nknight with thine own hands, why slewest thou him that loved thee so\nwell?\"\n\n\"For to excuse me,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"it helpeth me not. But, by\nJesu,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"and by the faith that I owe unto the high\norder of knighthood, I should with as good a will have slain my nephew\nSir Bors de Ganis at that time. But alas! that ever I was so unhappy,\"\nsaid Sir Launcelot, \"that I had not seen Sir Gareth and Sir Gaheris.\"\n\n\"Thou liest, false recreant knight,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"thou slewest\nhim in despite of me, and therefore wit thou well that I shall make war\nunto thee all the while that I may live.\"\n\n\"That me sore repenteth,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for well I understand\nthat it helpeth me not to seek for none accordment whiles that ye, Sir\nGawaine, are so mischievously set; and if ye were not, I would not\ndoubt to have the good grace of my lord King Arthur.\"\n\n[Then Sir Launcelot's kinsmen besought him that he would go out and do\nbattle for the slanders that Sir Gawaine and his knights did put upon\nhim.]\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for to ride out of this castle and do\nbattle, I am full loth to do it.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot spake on high unto King Arthur and Sir Gawaine:\n\"My lords, I require you and beseech you, sith I am thus required and\nconjured to ride into the field, that neither you, my lord King Arthur,\nnor you, Sir Gawaine, come not into the field.\"\n\n\"What shall we do then?\" said Sir Gawaine; \"is not this the king's\nquarrel with thee to fight? and it is my quarrel to fight with thee,\nSir Launcelot, because of the death of my brother Sir Gareth.\"\n\n\"Then must I needs unto battle,\" said Sir Launcelot.\n\nAnd always Sir Launcelot charged all his knights in any wise to save\nKing Arthur and Sir Gawaine.\n\nAnd on the morrow at underne [_nine o'clock_] King Arthur was ready in\nthe field with three great hosts. And then Sir Launcelot's fellowship\ncame out at three gates in full good array, and Sir Lionel came in the\nforemost battle, and Sir Launcelot came in the middle battle, and Sir\nBors came out at the third gate.\n\n[Then was there spurring and thrusting and many strokes.]\n\nAnd ever King Arthur was nigh about Sir Launcelot to have slain him,\nand Sir Launcelot suffered him, and would not strike again. So Sir Bors\nencountered with King Arthur, and there with a spear Sir Bors smote him\ndown; and so he alighted and drew his sword, and said to Sir Launcelot,\n\"Shall I make an end of this war?\" and that he meant to have slain King\nArthur.\n\n\"Not so hardy,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"upon pain of thy head, that thou\ntouch him no more: for I will never see that most noble king, that made\nme knight, neither slain ne shamed.\"\n\nAnd therewithal Sir Launcelot alighted off his horse, and took up the\nking and horsed him again, and said thus, \"My lord Arthur, for God's\nlove stint this strife.\"\n\nAnd when King Arthur was again on horseback, he looked upon Sir\nLauncelot, and then the tears burst out of his eyes thinking on the\ngreat courtesy that was in Sir Launcelot more than in any other man.\nAnd therewith the king rode forth his way, and might no longer behold\nhim, and said to himself, \"Alas! that ever this war began.\" And then\neither parties of the battles withdrew them for to rest them, and\nburied the dead bodies, and to the wounded men they laid soft salves;\nand thus they endured that night till on the morrow. And on the morrow,\nby underne, they made them ready to do battle, and then Sir Bors\nled them forward. So on the morrow came Sir Gawaine as grim as any\nbear, with a spear in his hand. And when Sir Bors saw him [they rode\nfuriously together and either gave the other a great wound]. 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 both\nholpen.\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I have no heart to fight against my lord\nKing Arthur; for always me seemeth I do not as I ought to do.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said Sir Palamides, \"though ye spare them all this day, they\nwill never con you thank; and if they may get you at any vantage, ye\nare but dead.\"\n\nSo then Sir Launcelot understood well that they told him truth, and\nthen he strained himself more. And then within a little while, by\neven-song time, Sir Launcelot and his party better stood, for their\nhorses went in blood past the fetlocks, there was so much people\nslain. And then, for pity, Sir Launcelot withheld his knights, and\nsuffered King Arthur's party for to withdraw them one side. And then\nSir Launcelot's 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's party were not so orgulous\n[_arrogantly eager_] as they were beforehand to do battle. Of this war\nwas noised through all christendom, and at the last it was noised afore\nthe Pope; and he considering the great goodness of King Arthur [let\nsend letters to Sir Launcelot how that he should bring the queen back\nto King Arthur. And so, when King Arthur had carried his host back to\nhis own country, came Sir Launcelot to King Arthur's court and gave him\nagain his queen].\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n[And then while Sir Launcelot was at court he strove hard to be\naccorded with Sir Gawaine, for he bore no malice neither to Sir Gawaine\nnor to King Arthur. But Sir Gawaine would not be accorded, and ever let\nKing Arthur from being accorded, that would right gladly have received\nagain his old faithful knight, Sir Launcelot. And ever more bitter grew\nSir Gawaine: till at the last he said to Sir Launcelot:] \"In this land\nthou shalt not abide past fifteen days, such warning I give thee. So\nthe king and we were consented and accorded or thou camest hither; and\nelse,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"wit thou well that thou shouldst not have\ncome hither, but if it were maugre thy head. And if that it were not\nfor the Pope's commandment, I should do battle with my body against thy\nbody, and prove it unto thee that thou hast been false unto mine uncle\nKing Arthur and to me both, and that shall I prove upon thy body when\nthou art departed from hence, wheresoever I find thee.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot sighed, and therewith the tears fell on his cheeks,\nand then he said these words: \"Alas! most noble Christian realm,\nwhom I have loved above all other realms, and in thee have I gotten\na great part of my worship, and now I shall depart in this wise.\nTruly me repenteth that ever I came into this realm, that should be\nthus shamefully banished undeserved and causeless. But fortune is so\nvariable and the wheel so mutable, there is no constant abiding, and\nthat may be proved by many old chronicles of noble Hector, and Troilus,\nand Alisander the mighty conqueror, and many other moe [_more_]; when\nthey were most in their royalty, they alighted lowest. And so fareth\nby me,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for in this realm I have had worship, and\nby me and mine all the whole Round Table hath been increased, more in\nworship by me and my blood than by any other. And therefore wit you\nwell, Sir Gawaine, I may live as well upon my lands as any knight that\nis here. And if ye, my most renowned king, will come upon my lands with\nyour nephew Sir Gawaine for to war upon me, I must endure you as well\nas I may; but as for you Sir Gawaine, if that ye come there, I pray you\ncharge me not with treason nor felony, for, and ye do, I must answer\nyou.\"\n\n\"Do thou thy best,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"therefore hie thee fast that\nthou were gone, and wit thou well we shall soon come after, and break\nthe strongest castle that thou hast upon thy head.\"\n\n\"That shall not need,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"for and I were as orgulous\nset as ye are, wit ye well I should meet with you in midst of the\nfield.\"\n\n\"Make thou no more language,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"but deliver the queen\nfrom thee, and pike thee lightly out of this court.\"\n\nAnd then Sir Launcelot said unto Queen Guenever, in hearing of the\nking and them all, \"Madam, now I must depart from you and this noble\nfellowship for ever; and sithen it is so, I beseech you to pray for\nme, and say me well, and if ye be hard bestead by any false tongues,\nlightly, my lady, let send me word, and if any knight's hands may\ndeliver you by battle, I shall deliver you.\"\n\nAnd therewithal Sir Launcelot kissed the queen, and then he said all\nopenly, \"Now let see what he be in this place, that dare say the queen\nis not true unto my lord Arthur: let see who will speak, and he dare\nspeak.\"\n\nAnd therewith he brought the queen to the king, and then Sir Launcelot\ntook his leave and departed; and there was neither king, duke ne earl,\nbaron ne knight, lady nor gentlewoman, but all they wept as people out\nof their mind, except Sir Gawaine; and when the noble Sir Launcelot\ntook his horse, to ride out of Carlisle, there was sobbing and weeping\nfor pure dole of his departing; and so he took his way unto Joyous\nGard. And afterwards he called it Dolorous Gard. And thus Sir Launcelot\ndeparted from the court for ever.\n\nSo leave we Sir Launcelot in his lands, and his noble knights with\nhim, and return we again unto King Arthur and Sir Gawaine, that made a\ngreat host ready, to the number of threescore thousand, and all thing\nwas ready for their shipping to pass over the sea. And so they shipped\nat Cardiff. And there King Arthur made Sir Mordred chief ruler of all\nEngland; and also he put Queen Guenever under his governance. And so\nKing Arthur passed over the sea, and landed upon Sir Launcelot's land,\nand there he burnt and wasted, through the vengeance of Sir Gawaine,\nall that they might overrun.\n\nThen spake King Bagdemagus unto Sir Launcelot, \"Sir, your courtesy will\nshend [_ruin_] us all, and your courtesy hath caused all this sorrow;\nfor and they thus override our lands, they shall by process of time\nbring us all to nought, whilst we thus hide us in holes.\"\n\nThen said the good knight Sir Galihud to Sir Launcelot, \"Sir, here be\nknights come of kings' blood, that will not long droop and they were\nwithout the walls; therefore give us leave, as we are knights, to meet\nthem in the field, and we shall slay them, that they shall curse the\ntime that ever they came into this country.\"\n\nThen spake the seven brethren of North Wales, and they were seven noble\nknights as a man might seek in seven kings' lands, or he might find\nsuch seven knights, then they spake all with one voice, \"Sir Launcelot,\nfor Christ's sake let us ride out with Sir Galihud, for we been never\nwont to cower in castles nor in towns.\"\n\nThen speake Sir Launcelot, which was master and governor of them all,\n\"My fair lords, howbeit we will as at this time keep our strong walls,\nand I shall send a messenger unto my lord King Arthur, desiring him to\ntake a treaty; for better is peace than always war.\"\n\nSo Sir Launcelot sent forth a damsel and a dwarf with her, requiring\nKing Arthur to leave his war upon his lands. And so she started upon a\npalfrey, and the dwarf ran by her side.\n\n[But Sir Gawaine would have no peace nor treaties, and sent vile\nmessages back to Sir Launcelot, and presently led the host to Sir\nLauncelot's castle.]\n\nSo thus they endured well half a year, and much slaughter of people\nthere was on both parties. Then it befell upon a day that Sir Gawaine\ncame before the gates armed at all pieces upon a great courser, with a\ngreat spear in his hand; and then he cried with a loud voice, \"Where\nart thou now, thou false traitor Sir Launcelot? why dost thou hide\nthyself within holes and walls like a coward? look out now, thou false\ntraitor knight, and here I shall revenge upon thy body the death of my\nthree brethren.\"\n\nAll this language heard Sir Launcelot, and his kin every deal; and\nthen his knights drew about him, and they said all at once unto Sir\nLauncelot, \"Sir Launcelot, now ye must defend you like a knight, or\nelse ye be shamed for ever; for now ye be called upon treason, it is\ntime for you to stir, for ye have slept over long, and suffered over\nmuch.\"\n\n\"So God me help,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I am right heavy of Sir\nGawaine's words, for now he chargeth me with a great charge; and\ntherefore I wot it as well as ye that I must defend me, or else to be a\nrecreant knight.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot commanded to saddle his strongest horse, and bade\nfetch his armor, and bring all unto the gate of the tower. And then Sir\nLauncelot spake on high unto King Arthur, and said, \"My lord and noble\nking which made me knight, wit you well that I am right heavy for your\nsake, that ye thus sue upon me, and always I forbare you; for, and I\nwould have been revengeable, I might have met you in the midst of the\nfield, and there to have made your boldest knights full tame; and now I\nhave forborne you half a year, and have suffered you and Sir Gawaine to\ndo what ye would, and now I may endure it no longer; now must I needs\ndefend myself, in so much as Sir Gawaine hath appealed me of treason,\nthe which is greatly against my will, that ever I should fight against\nany of your blood; but now I may not forsake it, I am driven thereto as\na beast to a bay.\"\n\nAnd so the covenant was made, there should no man nigh them, nor deal\nwith them, till the one were dead or yielden.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen Sir Gawaine and Sir Launcelot departed a great way in sunder, and\nthen they came together with all their horses' might as they might\nrun, and either smote other in midst of their shields, but the knights\nwere so strong, and their spears so big, that their horses might not\nendure their buffets, and so the horses fell to the earth. And then\nthey avoided their horses, and dressed their shields afore them. Then\nthey stood together, and gave many sad strokes on divers places of\ntheir bodies, that the blood brast out on many sides and places. Then\nhad Sir Gawaine such a grace and gift that an holy man had given to\nhim, that every day in the year, from underne till high noon, his might\nincreased those three hours as much as thrice his strength, and that\ncaused Sir Gawaine to win great honor. [And] there were but few knights\nthat time living that knew this advantage that Sir Gawaine had, but\nKing Arthur all only. Thus Sir Launcelot fought with Sir Gawaine, and\nwhen Sir Launcelot felt his might evermore increase, Sir Launcelot\nwondered, and dread him sore to be shamed. For Sir Launcelot wend,\nwhen he felt Sir Gawaine double his strength, that he had been a fiend\nand no earthly man, wherefore Sir Launcelot traced and traversed,\nand covered himself with his shield, and kept his might during three\nhours: and that while Sir Gawaine gave him many sad brunts and many sad\nstrokes, that all the knights that beheld Sir Launcelot marvelled how\nhe might endure him, but full little understood they that travail that\nSir Launcelot had for to endure him. And then when it was past noon,\nSir Gawaine had no more but his own might. Then Sir Launcelot felt him\nso come down; then he stretched him up, and stood near Sir Gawaine, and\nsaid thus, \"My lord Sir Gawaine, now I feel ye have done, now my lord\nSir Gawaine, I must do my part, for many great and grievous strokes I\nhave endured you this day with great pain.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot doubled his strokes, and gave Sir Gawaine such a\nbuffet on the helmet, that he fell down on his side, and Sir Launcelot\nwithdrew him from him.\n\n\"Why withdrawest thou thee?\" said Sir Gawaine; \"now turn again, false\ntraitor knight, and slay me; for and thou leave me thus, when I am\nwhole I shall do battle with thee again.\"\n\n\"Sir, I shall endure you by the grace of God,\" said Sir Launcelot; \"but\nwit you well, Sir Gawaine, I will never smite a felled knight.\"\n\nAnd so Sir Launcelot went into the city, and Sir Gawaine was borne into\none of King Arthur's pavilions; and anon there was leeches brought to\nhim, which searched his wound, and salved it with soft ointments. And\nthen Sir Launcelot said, \"Now have good day, my lord the king, for wit\nye well ye shall win no worship at these walls; and if I would bring\nout my knights, there should many a man die. Therefore, my lord King\nArthur, remember you of old kindness, and howsoever I fare, Jesu be\nyour guide in all places.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"Alas,\" said the king, \"that ever this unhappy war was begun, for ever\nSir Launcelot forbeareth me in all places, and in likewise my kin, and\nthat is seen well this day by my nephew Sir Gawaine.\"\n\nThen King Arthur fell sick for sorrow of Sir Gawaine, that he was sore\nhurt, and because of the war betwixt him and Sir Launcelot. So then\nthey on King Arthur's party kept the siege with little war and small\nforce, and they within kept their walls, and defended them when need\nwas. Thus Sir Gawaine lay sick about three weeks in his tents, with\nall manner of leechcraft that might be had; and as soon as Sir Gawaine\nmight go and ride, he armed him at all points, and started upon a\ncourser, and gat a spear in his hand, and so he came riding afore the\nchief gate of Benwick, and there he cried on high, \"Where art thou, Sir\nLauncelot? come forth, thou false traitor knight, and recreant, for I\nam here, Sir Gawaine, will prove this that I say on thee.\"\n\nAll this language Sir Launcelot heard, and then he said thus, \"Sir\nGawaine, me repenteth of your foul saying, that ye will not cease of\nyour language, for wit ye well, Sir Gawaine, I know your might, and all\nthat ye may do, and well ye wot, Sir Gawaine, ye may not greatly hurt\nme.\"\n\n\"Come down, traitor knight,\" said he, \"and make it good the contrary\nwith thy hands; for it mishapped me the last battle to be hurt of thy\nhands, therefore wit thou well, that I am come this day to make amends,\nfor I ween this day to lay thee as low as thou laidest me.\"\n\n\"Defend me,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"that ever I be so far in your danger\nas ye have been in mine, for then my days were done. But Sir Gawaine,\"\nsaid Sir Launcelot, \"ye shall not think that I tarry long; but sithence\nthat ye so unknightly call me of treason, ye shall have both your hands\nfull of me.\"\n\nAnd then Sir Launcelot armed him at all points, and mounted upon his\nhorse, and gat him a great spear in his hand, and rode out at the\ngate. And both the hosts were assembled of them without and of them\nwithin, and stood in array full manly; and both parties were charged\nfor to hold them still to see and behold the battle of these two noble\nknights. And then they laid their spears in their rests, and they ran\ntogether as thunder. And Sir Gawaine brake his spear upon Sir Launcelot\nin an hundred pieces unto his hand. And Sir Launcelot smote him with a\ngreater might, that Sir Gawaine's horse's feet raised, and so the horse\nand he fell to the earth. Then Sir Gawaine full quickly avoided his\nhorse, and put his shield before him, and eagerly drew his sword, and\nbade Sir Launcelot \"alight, traitor knight! for though this mare's son\nhath failed me, wit thou well that a king's son and a queen's son shall\nnot fail thee.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot avoided his horse, and dressed his shield before\nhim, and drew his sword. And so they stood together and gave many\nsad strokes, that all men on both parties had thereof passing great\nwonder. But when Sir Launcelot felt Sir Gawaine's might so marvellously\nincreased, he then withheld his courage and his wind, and kept himself\nwondrous covert of his might, and under his shield he traced and\ntraversed here and there for to break Sir Gawaine's strokes and his\ncourage. And Sir Gawaine enforced him with all his might and power to\ndestroy Sir Launcelot, for ever as Sir Gawaine's might increased, right\nso increased his wind and his evil will. Thus Sir Gawaine did great\npain unto Sir Launcelot three hours continually, that Sir Launcelot\nhad great pain to defend himself. And after that the three hours were\npassed, then Sir Launcelot felt verily that Sir Gawaine was come to his\nown proper might and strength, and that his great power was done. Then\nSir Launcelot said unto Sir Gawaine, \"Now have I well proved you twice,\nthat ye are a full dangerous knight, and a wonderful man of your might,\nand many wonderful deeds have you done in your days: for by your might\nincreasing you have deceived many a full noble and valiant knight; and\nnow I feel that ye have done your mighty deeds. Now wit you well I must\ndo my deeds.\"\n\nAnd then Sir Launcelot stood near Sir Gawaine, and then Sir Launcelot\ndoubled his strokes, and Sir Gawaine defended him mightily. But\nnevertheless Sir Launcelot smote such a stroke upon Sir Gawaine's helm,\nand upon the old wound, that Sir Gawaine sank down upon his one side in\na swoon. And anon as he was awake, he waved and foined at Sir Launcelot\nas he lay, and said, \"Traitor knight, wit thou well I am not yet\nslain: come thou near me, and perform this battle unto the uttermost.\"\n\n\"I will no more do than I have done,\" said Sir Launcelot; \"for when I\nsee you on foot I will do battle upon you all the while I see you stand\non your feet; but for to smite a wounded man that may not stand, God\ndefend me from such a shame.\"\n\nAnd then he turned him and went his way towards 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.\"\n\nThus as this siege endured, and as Sir Gawaine lay sick near a month,\nand when he was well recovered and ready within three days to do battle\nagain with Sir Launcelot, right so came tidings unto King Arthur from\nEngland, that made King Arthur and all his host to remove.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAs Sir Mordred was ruler of all England, he caused letters to be made\nas though 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\nhe made them to choose him king. And so he was crowned at Canterbury,\nand held a feast there fifteen days. And afterwards he drew him to\nWinchester, and there he took Queen Guenever, and said plainly that he\nwould wed her which was his uncle's wife; and so he made ready for the\nfeast, and a day prefixed that they should be wedded. Wherefore Queen\nGuenever was passing heavy; but she durst not discover her heart, but\nspake fair and agreed to Sir Mordred's will. Then she desired of Sir\nMordred for to go to London for to buy all manner thing that belonged\nunto the wedding; and because of her fair speech, Sir Mordred trusted\nher well enough, and gave her leave to go. And when she came to London,\nshe took the Tower of London, and suddenly in all haste possible she\nstuffed it with all manner of victual and well filled it with men, and\nso kept it. Then when Sir Mordred wist how he was beguiled, he was\npassing wroth out of measure. And, a short tale for to make, he went\nand laid a mighty siege about the Tower of London, and made many great\nassaults thereat, and threw many great engines unto them, and shot\ngreat guns. But all might not prevail Sir Mordred, for Queen Guenever\nwould never for fair speech nor for foul trust to come in his hands\nagain. And then came the bishop of Canterbury, the which was a noble\nclerk and an holy man, and thus he said to Sir Mordred: \"Sir, what will\nye do, will ye first displease God, and sithen shame yourself and all\nknighthood? Is not King Arthur your uncle, no further but your mother's\nbrother? Leave this opinion, or else I shall curse you with book, and\nbell, and candle.\"\n\n\"Do thou thy worst,\" said Sir Mordred, \"wit thou well I shall defy\nthee.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the bishop, \"and wit you well I shall not fear me to do\nthat me ought to do. Also where ye noise where my lord Arthur is slain,\nand that is not so, and therefore ye will make a foul work in this\nland.\"\n\n\"Peace, thou false priest,\" said Sir Mordred, \"for, and thou chafe me\nany more, I shall make strike off thy head.\"\n\nSo the bishop departed, and did the curse in the most orgulous\nwise that might be done. And then Sir Mordred sought the bishop of\nCanterbury for to have slain him. Then the bishop fled, and took part\nof his goods with him, and went nigh unto Glastonbury, and there he was\nas priest hermit in a chapel, and lived in poverty and in holy prayers:\nfor well he understood that mischievous war was at hand. Then Sir\nMordred sought on Queen Guenever by letters and by fair means and foul\nmeans, for to have her to come out of the Tower of London, but all this\navailed not, for she answered him shortly, openly and privily, that she\nhad liever slay herself than to be married with him. Then came word to\nSir Mordred that King Arthur had raised the siege from Sir Launcelot,\nand that he was coming homeward with a great host, for to be avenged\nupon Sir Mordred. Wherefore Sir Mordred made to write letters unto all\nthe barony of this land, and much people drew unto him; for then was\nthe common voice among them, that with King Arthur was none other life\nbut war and strife, and with Sir Mordred was great joy and bliss. Thus\nwas King Arthur depraved and evil said of, and many there were that\nKing Arthur had made up of nought, and had given them lands, might not\nsay of him then a good word.\n\nLo, we all Englishmen see what a mischief here was; for he that was the\nnoblest king and knight of the world, and most loved the fellowship of\nnoble knights and men of worship, and by him they were all upholden,\nnow might not we Englishmen hold us content with him. Lo, this was the\nold custom and usage of this land. And also men say that we of this\nland have not yet lost nor forgotten the custom and usage. Alas! alas!\nthis is a great default of us Englishmen, for there may nothing please\nus no term. And so fared the people at that time. For they were better\npleased with Sir Mordred than they were with King Arthur, and much\npeople drew unto Sir Mordred, and said they would abide with him for\nbetter and for worse. And so Sir Mordred drew with a great host towards\nDover, for there he heard say that King Arthur would arrive. And the\nmost part of all England held with Sir Mordred, the people were so\nnew-fangled.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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 landing, to let [_hinder_] his own\n[uncle] to land upon the land that he was king over. Then there was\nlaunching of great boats and small, and full of noble men of arms, and\nthere was much slaughter of gentle knights, and many a full bold baron\nwas laid full low on both parties. But King Arthur was so courageous,\nthat there might no manner of knights let him to land, and his knights\nfiercely followed him. And so they landed, maugre Sir Mordred and all\nhis power, and put Sir Mordred aback, that he fled and all his people.\nSo when this battle was done, King Arthur let bury his people that were\ndead, and then was the noble knight Sir Gawaine found in a great boat\nlying more than half dead. When Sir Arthur wist that Sir Gawaine was\nlaid so low, he went unto him, and there the king made sorrow out of\nmeasure, and took Sir Gawaine in his arms, and thrice he there swooned.\nAnd when he awaked he said, \"Alas, Sir Gawaine, my sister's son, here\nnow thou liest, the man in the world that I loved most, and now is my\njoy gone: for now, my nephew Sir Gawaine, I will discover me unto your\nperson; in Sir Launcelot and you I most had my joy, and mine affiance,\nand now have I lost my joy of you both, wherefore all mine earthly joy\nis gone from me.\"\n\n\"Mine uncle King Arthur,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"wit you well, my death day\nis come, and all is through mine own hastiness and wilfulness, for I\nam smitten upon the old wound the which Sir Launcelot gave me, on the\nwhich I feel well I must die, and had Sir Launcelot been with you as\nhe was, this unhappy war had never begun, and of all this am I causer,\nfor Sir Launcelot and his blood through their prowess held all your\ncankered enemies in subjection and danger: and now,\" said Sir Gawaine,\n\"ye shall miss Sir Launcelot. But, alas, I would not accord with him,\nand therefore,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"I pray you, fair uncle, that I may\nhave paper, pen, and ink, that I may write unto Sir Launcelot a letter\nwith mine own hands.\"\n\nAnd when paper and ink was brought, Sir Gawaine was set up weakly by\nKing Arthur, for he had been shriven a little before; and he wrote thus\nunto Sir Launcelot: \"Flower of all noble knights that ever I heard of\nor saw in my days; I, Sir Gawaine, King Lot's son of Orkney, sister's\nson unto the noble King Arthur, send unto thee greeting, and let thee\nhave knowledge, that the tenth day of May I was smitten upon the old\nwound which thou gavest me before the city of Benwick, and through the\nsame wound that thou gavest me I am come unto my death day, and I will\nthat all the world wit that I Sir Gawaine, knight of the Round Table,\nsought my death, and not through thy deserving, but it was mine own\nseeking; wherefore I beseech thee, Sir Launcelot, for to return again\nunto this realm and see my tomb, and pray some prayer more or less for\nmy soul. Also, Sir Launcelot, for all the love that ever was between\nus, make no tarrying, but come over the sea in all the haste that thou\nmayest with thy noble knights, and rescue that noble king that made\nthee knight, that is my lord and uncle King Arthur, for he is full\nstraitly bestood [_sore beset_] with a false traitor, which is my half\nbrother Sir Mordred, and he hath let crown himself king, and he would\nhave wedded my lady Queen Guenever, and so had he done, if she had not\nput herself in the Tower of London. And so the tenth day of May last\npast, my lord and uncle King Arthur and we all landed upon them at\nDover, and there we put that false traitor Sir Mordred to flight. And\nthere it misfortuned me for to be stricken upon thy stroke. And at the\ndate of this letter was written but two hours and half before my death,\nwritten with mine own hand, and so subscribed with part of my heart's\nblood. And I require thee, most famous knight of all the world, that\nthou wilt see my tomb.\"\n\nAnd then Sir Gawaine wept, and King Arthur wept. And the king made Sir\nGawaine to receive his Saviour. And then Sir Gawaine prayed the king\nto send for Sir Launcelot, and to cherish him above all other knights.\nAnd so at the hour of noon, Sir Gawaine yielded up the spirit. And\nthen the king let inter him in a chapel within Dover Castle; and there\nyet all men may see the skull of him, and the same wound is seen that\nSir Launcelot gave him in battle. Then was it told King Arthur that\nSir Mordred had pitched a new field upon Barendoune [_Barham Down_].\nAnd upon the morn the king rode thither to him, and there was a great\nbattle betwixt them, and much people were slain on both parties. But at\nthe last King Arthur's party stood best, and Sir Mordred and his party\nfled into Canterbury.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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\nsore were wounded. Then much people drew unto King Arthur. And then\nthey said that Sir Mordred warred upon King Arthur wrongfully. And\nthen King Arthur drew him with his host down by the sea side, westward\nunto Salisbury, and there was a day assigned between King Arthur and\nSir Mordred, that they should meet upon a down beside Salisbury, and\nnot far from the sea side, and this day was assigned on a Monday after\nTrinity Sunday, whereof King Arthur was passing glad, that he might be\navenged upon Sir Mordred. Then Sir Mordred raised much people about\nLondon, for they of Kent, Southsex [_Sussex_], and Southery [_Surrey_],\nEstsex [_Essex_], and Southfolk [_Suffolk_], and of Northfolk\n[_Norfolk_], held the most party with Sir Mordred, and many a full\nnoble knight drew unto Sir Mordred and to the king; but they that loved\nSir Launcelot drew unto Sir Mordred.\n\nSo upon Trinity Sunday at night King Arthur dreamed a wonderful dream,\nand that was this, that him seemed he sat in a chair, and the chair was\nfast unto a wheel, and thereupon sat King Arthur in the richest cloth\nof gold that might be made. And the king thought there was under him,\nfar from him, a hideous and a deep black water, and therein was all\nmanner of serpents and worms, and wild beasts foul and horrible; and\nsuddenly the king thought that the wheel turned upside down, and that\nhe fell among the serpents and wild beasts, and every beast took him by\na limb; and then the king cried, as he lay in his bed and slept, \"Help!\"\n\nAnd then knights, squires, and yeomen awaked the king; and then he\nwas so amazed that he wist not where he was; and then he fell in a\nslumbering again, not sleeping nor thoroughly waking. So King Arthur\nthought that there came Sir Gawaine unto him verily, with a number\nof fair ladies with him; and so when King Arthur saw him, he said,\n\"Welcome, my sister's son, I wend thou hadst been dead, and now I see\nthee alive, much am I beholden unto almighty Jesu; oh, fair nephew and\nmy sister's son, what be these ladies that be come hither with you?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Gawaine, \"all these be the ladies for whom I have\nfought when I was man living: and all these are those that I did battle\nfor in righteous quarrel. And God hath given them that grace at their\ngreat prayer, because I did battle for them, that they should bring\nme hither unto you for to warn you of your death; for and ye fight as\nto-morrow with Sir Mordred, as ye both have assigned, doubt ye not ye\nmust be slain, and the most part of your people on both parties. For\nwithin a month shall come Sir Launcelot, with all his noble knights,\nand rescue you worshipfully, and slay Sir Mordred and all that ever\nwill hold with him.\" Then Sir Gawaine and all the ladies vanished.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSo then were they condescended that King Arthur and Sir Mordred should\nmeet between both their hosts, and every each of them should bring\nfourteen persons. And they came with this word unto King Arthur, and\nthen said he, \"I am glad that this is done.\" And so he went into the\nfields; and when King Arthur should depart, he warned all his host\nthat, and they saw any sword drawn, \"look that ye come on fiercely, and\nslay that traitor Sir Mordred, for I in no wise trust him.\"\n\nIn like wise Sir Mordred did warn his host that \"if ye see any manner\nof sword drawn, look that ye come on fiercely, and so slay all that\never standeth before you, for in no wise I will not trust for this\ntreatise, for I know well that my [uncle] will be avenged upon me.\"\n\nAnd so they met as their appointment was, and were agreed and accorded\nthoroughly, and wine was fet [_fetched_] and they drank. Right so came\nan adder out of a little heath bush, and it stung a knight on the foot;\nand when the knight felt him stung, he looked down and saw the adder,\nand then he drew his sword to slay the adder, and thought of none\nother harm. And when the hosts on both parties saw that sword drawn,\nthey blew trumpets and horns, and shouted grimly. And so both hosts\ndressed them together, and King Arthur took his horse, and said, \"Alas,\nthis unhappy day!\" and so rode he to his party. And so Sir Mordred\ndid in like wise; and never was there seen a more dolefuller battle\nin no Christian land, for there was but rashing and riding, foining\nand striking, and many a grim word was there spoken either to other,\nand many a deadly stroke. And ever they fought still till it was nigh\nnight, and by that time was there an hundred thousand laid dead upon\nthe down. Then was King Arthur wroth out of measure, when he saw his\npeople so slain from him. Then the king looked about him, and then was\nhe ware that of all his host, and of all his good knights, were left\nno more alive but two knights, that was Sir Lucan the Butler and Sir\nBedivere his brother, and they were right sore wounded.\n\n\"Jesu mercy!\" said King Arthur, \"where are all my noble knights become?\nAlas! that ever I should see this doleful day; for now,\" said King\nArthur, \"I am come unto mine end; but would to God that I wist where\nthat traitor Sir Mordred is, which hath caused all this mischief.\"\n\nThen was King Arthur ware where Sir Mordred leaned upon his sword among\na great heap of dead men.\n\n\"Now give me my spear,\" said King Arthur to Sir Lucan, \"for yonder I\nhave espied the traitor which hath wrought all this woe.\"\n\n\"Sir, let him be,\" said Sir Lucan, \"for he is unhappy; and if ye\npass this unhappy day ye shall be right well revenged upon him. My\ngood lord, remember well your dream that ye had this night, and what\nthe spirit of Sir Gawaine told you this night; yet God of his great\ngoodness hath preserved you hitherto, therefore, for God's sake, my\nlord, leave off by this, for blessed be God ye have won the field; for\nhere we be three on live, and with Sir Mordred is none alive. And if ye\nleave off now, this wicked day of destiny is done.\"\n\n\"Betide me death, betide me life,\" said the king, \"now I see him yonder\nalone he shall never escape my hands, for at a better vantage shall I\nnever have him.\"\n\n\"God speed you well,\" said Sir Bedivere.\n\nThen the king gat his spear in both his hands, and ran towards Sir\nMordred, crying, \"Traitor, now is thy death day come.\"\n\nAnd when Sir Mordred heard King Arthur, he ran unto him with his sword\ndrawn in his hand. And then King Arthur smote Sir Mordred under the\nshield with a foin of his spear throughout the body more than a fathom.\nAnd when Sir Mordred felt that he had his death's wound, he thrust\nhimself, with the might that he had, up to the bur of King Arthur's\nspear. And right so he smote [the king] with his sword holden in both\nhis hands, on the side of the head, that the sword pierced the helmet\nand the brain-pan. And therewithal Sir Mordred fell stark dead to the\nearth. And the noble Arthur fell in a swoon to the earth, and there he\nswooned ofttimes. And Sir Lucan the Butler and Sir Bedivere ofttimes\nheaved him up, and so weakly they led him betwixt them both to a little\nchapel not far from the sea side. And when the king was there, he\nthought him well eased. Then heard they people cry in the field.\n\n\"Now go thou, Sir Lucan,\" said the king, \"and do me to wit what\nbetokens that noise in the field.\"\n\nSo Sir Lucan departed, and he was grievously wounded in many places.\nAnd so as he went, he saw and hearkened by the moonlight, how the\npillers [_pillagers_] and robbers were come into the field to pill and\nto rob many a full noble knight of broaches and beads, of many a good\nring, and of many a rich jewel; and who that were not dead all out\n[_entirely_], there they slew them for their harness and their riches.\nWhen Sir Lucan understood this work, he came to the king as soon as he\nmight, and told him all what he had heard and seen.\n\n\"Therefore by mine advice,\" said Sir Lucan, \"it is best that we bring\nyou to some town.\"\n\n\"I would it were so,\" said the king.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"But I may not stand. Ah, Sir Launcelot,\" said King Arthur, \"this day\nhave I sore missed thee. Alas, that ever I was against thee, for now\nhave I my death, whereof Sir Gawaine me warned in my dream.\"\n\nThen Sir Lucan took up the king the one part, and Sir Bedivere the\nother part, and in the lifting, the king swooned, and Sir Lucan fell in\na swoon with the lift, and therewith the noble knight's heart brast.\nAnd when King Arthur came to himself again, he beheld Sir Lucan how he\nlay foaming at the mouth.\n\n\"Alas,\" said the king, \"this is unto me a full heavy sight to see this\nnoble duke so die for my sake, for he would have holpen me, that had\nmore need of help than I. Alas, he would not complain him, his heart\nwas so set to help me. Now Jesu have mercy upon his soul.\"\n\nThen Sir Bedivere wept for the death of his brother.\n\n\"Leave this mourning and weeping,\" said the king, \"for all this will\nnot avail me: for, wit thou well, and I might live myself the death\nof Sir Lucan would grieve me evermore; but my time hieth fast,\" said\nthe king. \"Therefore,\" said King 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 shalt see there.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" said Sir Bedivere, \"your command shall be done, and lightly\nbring you word again.\"\n\nAnd so Sir Bedivere departed; and by the way he beheld that noble sword\nwhere the pommel and the haft were all of precious stones, and then he\nsaid to himself, \"If I throw this rich sword into the water, thereof\nshall never come good, but harm and loss.\"\n\nAnd then Sir Bedivere hid Excalibur under a tree, and as soon as he\nmight he came again unto King Arthur, and said he had been at the\nwater, and had thrown the sword into the water.\n\n\"What sawest thou there?\" said the king.\n\n\"Sir,\" said he, \"I saw nothing but waves and wind.\"\n\n\"That is untruly said of thee,\" said King Arthur, \"therefore go thou\nlightly and do my command, as thou art to me lief [_beloved_] and dear;\nspare not, but throw it in.\"\n\nThen Sir Bedivere returned again, and took the sword in his hand; and\nthen him thought it sin and shame to throw away that noble sword. And\nso he hid the sword, and returned again and told to the king that he\nhad been at the water and done his command.\n\n\"What saw ye there?\" said the king.\n\n\"Sir,\" said he, \"I saw nothing but the water wap and waves wane.\"[21]\n\n[Footnote 21: \"Water wap and waves wane,\" _water lap and waves ebb_.]\n\n\"Ah, traitor untrue!\" said King Arthur, \"now hast thou betrayed me two\ntimes. Who would have wend that thou that hast been unto me so self\n[_loved like myself_] and dear, and thou art named a noble knight, and\nwouldest betray me for the rich 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 as I command thee, and if ever I may see\nthee, I shall slay thee with my own hands, for thou wouldst for my rich\nsword see me dead.\"\n\nThen Sir Bedivere departed, and went to the sword, and lightly took it\nup, and went to the water's side; and there he bound the girdle about\nthe hilts, and then he threw the sword into the water as far as he\nmight; and there came an arm and an hand above the water, and met it\nand caught it, and so shook it thrice and brandished.\n\nAnd then the hand vanished away with the sword in the water. So Sir\nBedivere came again to the king, and told him what he had seen.\n\n\"Alas!\" said the king, \"help me from hence, for I dread me I have\ntarried over long.\"\n\nThen Sir Bedivere took King Arthur upon his back, and so went with him\nto the water's side. And when they were at the water's side, even fast\nby 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 they wept\nand shrieked when they saw King Arthur.\n\n\"Now put me into the barge,\" said the king; and so he did softly; and\nthere received him three queens with great mourning, and so these three\nqueens [whereof one was King Arthur's sister Morgan le Fay, the other\nwas the queen of Northgalis, and the third was the queen of the waste\nlands] set them down, and in one of their laps King Arthur laid his\nhead. And then that queen said, \"Ah! dear brother, why have ye tarried\nso long from me? Alas! this wound on your head hath taken overmuch\ncold.\"\n\nAnd so then they rowed from the land, and Sir Bedivere beheld all those\nladies go from him; then Sir Bedivere cried, \"Ah! my lord Arthur, what\nshall become of me now ye go from me, and leave me here alone among\nmine enemies?\"\n\n\"Comfort thyself,\" said King Arthur, \"and do as well as thou mayest,\nfor in me is no trust for to trust in; for I will into the vale of\nAvalon for to heal me of my grievous wound; and if thou never hear more\nof me, pray for my soul.\"\n\nBut evermore the queens and the ladies wept and shrieked that it was\npity for to hear them. And as soon as Sir Bedivere had lost the sight\nof the barge, he wept and wailed, and so took the forest; and so he\nwent all the night, and in the morning he was ware between two hills of\na chapel and an hermitage.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen was Sir Bedivere glad, and thither he went; and when he came into\nthe chapel, he saw where lay an hermit grovelling upon all four there\nfast by a tomb newly graven. When the hermit saw Sir Bedivere, he knew\nhim well, for he was, but a little before, [the] bishop of Canterbury\nthat Sir Mordred banished away.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Sir Bedivere, \"what man is there that ye pray so fast for?\"\n\n\"Fair son,\" said the hermit, \"I wot not verily, but by deeming, but\nthis night, at midnight, here came a great number of ladies, and\nbrought hither a dead corpse, and prayed me to bury him; and here they\noffered an hundred tapers and gave me an hundred besants.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said Sir Bedivere, \"that was my lord King Arthur, that here\nlieth buried in this chapel!\"\n\nThen Sir Bedivere swooned, and when he awoke he prayed the hermit he\nmight abide with him still there, to live with fasting and prayers.\n\"For from hence will I never go,\" said Sir Bedivere, \"by my will, but\nall the days of my life here to pray for my lord Arthur.\"\n\n\"Ye are welcome to me,\" said the hermit, \"for I know you better than ye\nween that I do. Ye are the bold Bedivere, and the full noble duke Sir\nLucan the Butler was your brother.\"\n\nThen Sir Bedivere told the hermit all as ye have heard before. So there\nbode Sir Bedivere with the hermit, and there Sir Bedivere put upon\nhim poor clothes, and served the hermit full lowly in fasting and in\nprayers. And when the Queen Guenever understood that King Arthur was\nslain, and all the noble knights, Sir Mordred and all the remnant, then\nthe queen stole away, and five ladies with her, and so she went to\nAlmesbury, and there she let make herself a nun and wore white clothes\nand black. And great penance she took as ever did sinful lady in this\nland; and never creature could make her merry, but lived in fastings,\nprayers, and alms deeds, that all manner of people marvelled how\nvirtuously she was changed. Now leave we Queen Guenever in Almsbury,\nthat was a nun in white clothes and black; and there she was abbess\nand ruler, as reason would. And turn we from her, and speak we of Sir\nLauncelot du Lake.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd when he heard in his country that Sir Mordred was crowned king\nin England, and made war against King Arthur, and would not let him\nto land in his own land; also it was told Sir Launcelot how that Sir\nMordred had laid siege about the Tower of London, because the queen\nwould not wed him; then was Sir Launcelot wondrous wroth.\n\nThen they made them ready in all the haste that might be, with ships\nand galleys, with Sir Launcelot and his host for to pass into England.\nAnd so he passed over the sea, and arrived at Dover, and there he\nlanded with seven kings, and their number was hideous to behold. Then\nSir Launcelot inquired of the men of Dover where King Arthur was become.\n\nThen the people told him how that he was slain, with Sir Mordred, and\nan hundred thousand died upon a day, and how Sir Mordred gave King\nArthur there the first battle at his landing, and there was the good\nknight Sir Gawaine slain; and on the morrow Sir Mordred fought with\nKing Arthur upon Barendoune, and there King Arthur put Sir Mordred to\nthe worst.\n\n\"Alas!\" said Sir Launcelot, \"this is the heaviest tidings that ever\ncame to me. Now fair sirs,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"I beseech you show me\nthe tomb of Sir Gawaine.\"\n\nAnd then certain people of the town brought him to the castle of Dover,\nand showed him the tomb of Sir Gawaine. Then Sir Launcelot kneeled\ndown, and wept, and prayed full heartily for his soul. And that night\nhe made a dole, and all they that would come had as much flesh and\nfish, wine and ale, as they might eat and drink, and every man and\nwoman had twelve pence, come who would.\n\nThen on the third day Sir Launcelot called to the kings, dukes, earls,\nand barons, and said thus: \"My fair lords, I thank you all of your\ncoming into this country with me. But we come too late, and that shall\nrepent me while I live. But sithen it is so, I will myself ride and\nseek my lady Queen Guenever, for as I hear say she hath great pain and\nmuch disease, and I heard say that she is fled into the west country,\ntherefore ye all abide me here, and but if I come within fifteen days,\nthen take your ships and your fellowship, and depart into your country.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\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.\"\n\n\"Be as be may,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"keep you still here, for I will\nforth on my journey, and no man nor child shall go with me.\"\n\nSo it was no boot to strive, but he departed and rode westerly, and\nthere he sought a seven or eight days, and at the last he came unto\na nunnery. And then was Queen Guenever ware of Sir Launcelot as she\nwalked in the cloister; and when she saw him there, she swooned three\ntimes, that all the ladies and gentlewomen had work enough for to\nhold the queen up. So when she might speak, she called ladies and\ngentlewomen unto her, and said, \"Ye marvel, fair ladies, why I make\nthis cheer. Truly,\" said she, \"it is for the sight of yonder knight\nwhich yonder standeth; wherefore I pray you all to call him unto me.\"\nAnd when Sir Launcelot was brought unto her, then she said: \"Sir\nLauncelot, I require thee and beseech thee heartily, for all the love\nthat ever was between us two, that thou never look me more in the\nvisage. And furthermore I command thee on God's behalf right straitly,\nthat thou forsake my company, and that unto thy kingdom shortly thou\nreturn again, and keep well thy realm from war and wreck. For as well\nas I have loved thee, Sir Launcelot, now mine heart will not once serve\nme to see thee. Therefore, Sir Launcelot, go thou unto thy realm, and\nthere take thee a wife, and live with her in joy and bliss. And I\nbeseech you heartily, pray for me unto our Lord God, that I may amend\nmy misliving.\"\n\n\"Now, sweet madam,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"would ye that I should now\nreturn again into my country, and there to wed a lady? Nay, madam, wit\nyou well that shall I never do: but the same destiny that ye have taken\nyou to, I will take me unto, for to please Jesu, and ever for you I\ncast me specially to pray. And if I had found you now so disposed, I\nhad cast me to have had you into mine own realm.\"\n\n[Then] there was lamentation as they had been stung by spears, and the\nladies bare the queen to her chamber.\n\nAnd Sir Launcelot took his horse and rode all that day and all that\nnight in a forest, weeping. And at last he was ware of a hermitage and\na chapel between two cliffs, and then he heard a little bell ring to\nmass.\n\n[And it was here that the bishop and Sir Bedivere had served God\ntogether; and they knew Sir Launcelot, and told him all, and his heart\nwas nearly brast for sorrow. And Sir Launcelot threw abroad his armor,\nand was shriven, and took the habit upon him, and abode at that chapel.\n\nAnd there came Sir Bors, who had gone forth for to seek Sir Launcelot.\nAnd Sir Bors took the habit upon him. And within half a year there was\nalso come] Sir Galihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Villiers, Sir\nClarrus, and Sir Gahalantine. So these seven knights abode there still.\nAnd when they saw that Sir Launcelot had taken him unto such perfection\nthey had not list [_desire_] to depart, but took such an habit as he\nhad, and their horses went where they would.\n\nThus they endured in great penance six years, and then Sir Launcelot\ntook the habit of priesthood, and twelve months he sung the mass. [And\nhe used] such abstinence that he waxed full lean. And thus upon a night\nthere came a vision to Sir Launcelot, and charged him, in remission of\nhis sins, to haste him unto Almesbury, \"And by then thou come there,\nthou shalt find Queen Guenever dead: and therefore take thy fellows\nwith thee, and purvey them of an horse-bier, and fetch thou the corpse\nof her, and bury her by her husband the noble King Arthur.\" So this\nvision came to Launcelot thrice in one night.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen Sir Launcelot rose up or day, and told the hermit.\n\n\"It were well done,\" said the hermit, \"that ye made you ready, and that\nyou disobey not the vision.\"\n\nThen Sir Launcelot took his seven fellows with him, and on foot they\nwent from Glastonbury to Almesbury, the which is little more than\nthirty miles. And thither they came within two days, for they were weak\nand feeble to go. And when Sir Launcelot was come to Almesbury, within\nthe nunnery, Queen Guenever died but half an hour before.\n\nThen Sir Launcelot saw her visage, but he wept not greatly, but sighed;\nand so he did all the observance of the mass himself, both the dirige\n[_dirge_] at night and the mass on the morrow.\n\n[Illustration: _Then Sir Launcelot saw her visage, but he wept not\ngreatly, but sighed_]\n\n[And so with many holy rites, Queen Guenever was wrapped thirty-fold\nin cloth of Rheims, and put in a web of lead, and after in a coffin of\nmarble. And when she was put in the earth Sir Launcelot swooned.]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThen Sir Launcelot never after eat but little meat, nor drank, till\nhe was dead; for then he sickened more and more, and dried and dwined\n[_dwindled_] away; for the bishop nor none of his fellows might not\nmake him to eat, and little he drank; for evermore day and night he\nprayed, but sometime he slumbered a broken sleep, and ever he was\nlying grovelling on the tomb of King Arthur and Queen Guenever. And\nthere was no comfort that the bishop, nor Sir Bors, nor none of his\nfellows could make him, it availed nothing.\n\nOh, ye mighty and pompous lords, shining in the glory transitory of\nthis unstable life, as in reigning over great realms and mighty great\ncountries, fortified with strong castles and towers, edified with\nmany a rich city; ye also, ye fierce and mighty knights, so valiant\nin adventurous deeds of arms; behold, behold, see how this mighty\nconqueror King Arthur, whom in his human life all the world doubted\n[_praised_], see also the noble Queen Guenever, which sometime sat\nin her chair adorned with gold, pearls, and precious stones, now lie\nfull low in obscure fosse or pit, covered with clods of earth and\nclay; behold also this mighty champion Sir Launcelot, peerless of all\nknighthood, see now how he lieth grovelling upon the cold mould, now\nbeing so feeble and faint that sometime was so terrible. How and in\nwhat manner ought ye to be so desirous of worldly honor so dangerous!\nTherefore me thinketh this present book is right necessary often to\nbe read, for in it shall ye find the most gracious, knightly, and\nvirtuous war of the most noble knights of the world, whereby they gat\npraising continually. Also me seemeth, by the oft reading thereof,\nye shall greatly desire to accustom yourself in following of those\ngracious knightly deeds, that is to say, to dread God, and to love\nrighteousness, faithfully and courageously to serve your sovereign\nprince; and the more that God hath given you the triumphal honor, the\nmeeker ye ought to be, ever fearing the unstableness of this deceitful\nworld. And so I pass over and turn again unto my matter.\n\nSo within six weeks after Sir Launcelot fell sick, and lay in his bed;\nand then he sent for the bishop that there was hermit, and all his true\nfellows. Then Sir Launcelot said with dreary steeven [_voice_], \"Sir\nbishop, I pray you give to me all my rights that longeth to a Christian\nman.\"\n\n\"It shall not need you,\" said the hermit and all his fellows, \"it is\nbut heaviness of your blood: ye shall be well amended by the grace of\nGod to-morn.\"\n\n\"My fair lords,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"wit you well, my careful body\nwill into the earth. I have warning more than now I will say, therefore\ngive me my rights.\"\n\nSo when he had all that a Christian man ought to have, he prayed the\nbishop that his fellows might bear his body unto Joyous Gard.\n\n\"Howbeit,\" said Sir Launcelot, \"me repenteth sore, but I made mine avow\nsometime that in Joyous Gard I would be buried, and because of breaking\nof mine avow, I pray you all lead me thither.\"\n\nThen there was weeping and wringing of hands among all his fellows. So\nat the season of night they went all to their beds, for they lay all in\none chamber. So after midnight against day, the bishop that was hermit,\nas he lay in his bed asleep, he fell on a great laughter; and therewith\nthe fellowship awoke, and came unto the bishop, and asked him what he\nailed.\n\n\"Ah, Jesu, mercy,\" said the bishop, \"why did you awake me? I was never\nin all my life so merry and well at ease.\"\n\n\"Why, wherefore?\" said Sir Bors.\n\n\"Truly,\" said the bishop, \"here was Sir Launcelot with me, with more\nangels than ever I saw men upon one day; and I saw the angels heave up\nSir Launcelot towards heaven; and the gates of heaven opened against\nhim.\"\n\n\"It is but dretching [_fantasy_] of swevens [_dreams_],\" said Sir Bors;\n\"for I doubt not Sir Launcelot aileth nothing but good.\"\n\n\"It may well be,\" said the bishop. \"Go to his bed, and then shall ye\nprove the sooth.\"\n\nSo when Sir Bors and his fellows came to his bed, they found him stark\ndead, and he lay as he had smiled, and the sweetest savor about him\nthat ever they smelled. Then was there weeping and wringing of hands,\nand the greatest dole they made that ever made men. And on the morrow\nthe bishop sung his mass of requiem; and after the bishop and all\nthose nine knights put Sir Launcelot in the same horse-bier that Queen\nGuenever was laid in before that she was buried.\n\nAnd so the bishop and they all together went with the corpse of Sir\nLauncelot daily till they came unto Joyous Gard, and ever they had an\nhundred torches burning about him.\n\nAnd so within fifteen days they came to Joyous Gard; and there they\nlaid his corpse in the body of the choir, and sung and read many\npsalters and prayers over him and about him; and ever his visage was\nlaid open and naked, that all folk might behold him, for such was the\ncustom in those days that all men of worship should so lie with open\nvisage till that they were buried. And right thus as they were at their\nservice, there came Sir Ector de Maris, that had sought seven year all\nEngland, Scotland, and Wales, seeking his brother Sir Launcelot.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd when Sir Ector de Maris heard such noise and light in the choir of\nJoyous Gard, he alighted, and put his horse away from him, and came\ninto the choir; and there he saw men sing and weep. And all they knew\nSir Ector, but he knew not them. Then went Sir Bors unto Sir Ector, and\ntold him how there lay his brother Sir Launcelot dead. And then Sir\nEctor threw his shield, sword, and helm from him; and when he beheld\nSir Launcelot's visage he fell down in a swoon. And when he awaked it\nwere hard any tongue to tell the doleful complaints that he made for\nhis brother.\n\n\"Ah, Sir Launcelot,\" he said, \"thou were head of all Christian knights;\nand now I dare say,\" said Sir Ector, \"that Sir Launcelot, there thou\nliest, thou were never matched of none earthly knight's hands; and thou\nwere the courtliest knight that ever bare shield; and thou were the\ntruest friend to thy lover that ever bestrode horse; and thou were the\ntruest lover, of a sinful man, that ever loved woman; and thou were the\nkindest man that ever struck with sword; and thou were the goodliest\nperson that ever came among press [_crowd_] of knights; and thou were\nthe meekest man and the gentlest that ever ate in hall among ladies;\nand thou were the sternest knight to thy mortal foe that ever put spear\nin the rest.\"\n\nThen there was weeping and dolor out of measure.\n\nThus they kept Sir Launcelot's corpse above the ground fifteen days,\nand then they buried it with great devotion. And then at leisure they\nwent all with the bishop of Canterbury to his hermitage, and there\nthey were together more than a month. Then Sir Constantine, that was\nSir Cador's son, of Cornwall, was chosen king of England; and he was a\nfull noble knight, and worshipfully he ruled this realm. And then this\nKing Constantine sent for the bishop of Canterbury, for he heard say\nwhere he was; and so he was restored unto his bishopric, and left that\nhermitage; and Sir Bedivere was there ever still hermit to his life's\nend. Then Sir Bors de Ganis, Sir Ector de Maris, Sir Gahalantine, Sir\nGalihud, Sir Galihodin, Sir Blamor, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Villiers le\nValiant, Sir Clarrus of Claremount, all these knights drew them to\ntheir countries, howbeit King Constantine would have had them with him,\nbut they would not abide in this realm; and there they lived in their\ncountries as holy men.\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. Also, here is the end of the death of\nKing Arthur. I pray you all, gentlemen and gentlewomen, that read this\nbook of King Arthur and his knights from the beginning to the ending,\npray for me while I am alive, that God send me good deliverance.\n\nAnd when I am dead, I pray you all pray for my soul. For this book was\nfinished the ninth year of the reign of King Edward the Fourth, by Sir\nThomas Maleor [_Malory_] knight, as Jesu help me for his great might,\nas he is the servant of Jesu both day and night.","title":"The Boy's King Arthur: Sir Thomas Malory's History of King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":88420}